#which is an exception because i usually rest one day after finishing a piece | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mrwavellswaps · 2 years

Text

Anxious for Change

Mike had been living his best life. He was in great shape, had been apart of the police force for two years, had a ton of great friends and coworkers. It all seemed great. Well except for one thing. Sure Mike had an incredible body but he’d always dreamed of what it’d be like to become more of a chubby bear. There were many times where he’d considered changing up his lifestyle and packing on some extra weight to get the body he dreamt of having… but his insecurities always stopped him. He believed that if he lost his fit, athletic body that he’d be judged for it. Especially since the majority of his friends were all fitness freaks like he seemed to be. He worried they’d just start to view him as lazy and maybe even see him as being less then they are. Of course a lot of this might’ve just been in Mikes head. Perhaps his friends wouldn’t care one bit about what he did to his body and would support him anyway… but the insecure thoughts still lingered regardless.

Because of this Mike projected his desire onto his new boyfriend Jim in a way. Jim was chubby bear/cub type and whenever Mike would look at him, he’d imagine what it’d be like to be that same size.

While Mike retained a healthy diet to keep his lean, muscular frame, Jim would eat pretty much whatever he wanted. Of course Mike saw how easy it’d be to join in and eat the same takeouts and fast food that Jim loved until he too started to become a bear. But again, he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. He was a prisoner to his own insecurities.

One evening the pair were sat at the table eating dinner as usual by now. Jim had ordered himself some fast food like usual while Mike had cooked himself some chicken and rice with eggs on the side and a glass of orange juice to wash it down.

“Hey babe. Do you *chew* ever wonder what it’d be like *gulp* if we had each overs bodies?” Jim asked as he wolfed down a burger. Of course Mike was take off guard by the question. Did Jim know about his desire? No surely not right? It was just a dumb question for fun.

“Oh… uhh yeah I guess so. I think that’d be pretty… wild I suppose.” Mike replied, trying to stay casual as he scooped up the rest of his rice.

“Same here. It’d be so weird having to wear each over clothes and shit.” Jim laughed. “Since I know for a fact you’d be swamped in most of mine and I’d rip most of yours normally.” He patted his belly before taking a swig of his drink. “You know what we should try that.”

“Try what?”

“Wear each overs clothes. Could be fun! Don’t worry, I’ll be extra careful with yours.” Jim winked

Mike hesitated for a second. It felt like this all came out of nowhere. Yet at the same time the idea of wearing those huge clothes and imagining he could fill them out was such a hot vision. “You know what sure. How’s about we finish dinner then head up stairs. We can wear each-overs work clothes… why not” Mike smirked.

As one could imagine the pair finished up their food pretty fast. They gave it a bit of time to settle before venturing upstairs into the bedroom. Excitedly they both began stripping off piece by piece, checking each over out in the process. Once they were both nude at last, they exchanged clothes. Mike handing over his black police gear while Jim tossed over the surprisingly clean clothes he’d worn on the construction site that day.

Mike pulled on Jim’s underwear and jeans first. They’d fit Jim snuggly but on Mike’s frame they barely held up even after Mike put the belt on nice and tight. Though looking over he saw Jim wasn’t doing much better as he was struggling to pull those police pants over his thick ass. Despite that he was trying surprisingly hard to do so until they finally slipped over. Next Mike plunged himself into the tee which was still damp with Jim’s sweat which, just as he expected, swamped him. Looking over he noticed Jim had somehow managed to pull on the police shirt though it was skin tight and his belly was protruding out the bottom. After that Mike even went as far as to slip on Jim’s fluorescent jacket while laughing at how even that was massively oversized. Lastly they started to pull on each overs socks. One thing Mike had first noticed when he first met Jim aside from his bearish body was how huge his feet were and that was even more apparent now seeing how baggy Jim’s socks felt on his feet whereas Mikes socks looked closer to ankle socks on Jim’s feet.

In all honesty, they both looked silly. Mike was barely able to keep Jim’s clothes on while it was miracle Jim hadn’t tore any of Mike’s clothes in that whole process. But despite that Mike couldn’t deny how hot this was. Wearing his boyfriends huge clothes. Watching his boyfriends huge stomach and ass press tightly against his clothes. Maybe he could convince Jim to do some kind of kinky role play where they pretend they’re in each overs bodies to spice things up.

“Fuck yessss I can’t wait…” Jim muttered to himself.

“Huh? Can’t wait for wh-aaaoooohhhh” Mike began to groan as a hot sensation swiftly began building in his stomach before spreading out across his body. “Oooooahhh-whats-Ahhoooooahh-happening?!-Ooooooohh” He managed to say between moans. Jim didn’t reply. Instead he too started to moan. It seemed like he was experiencing the same as whatever Mike was currently going through. Except… he was grinning?

Mike’s attention soon returned to his own body as all of sudden he felt bloated beyond belief. It was as if he’d just scarfed down an entire buffet at once. Then as if on cue his stomach practically exploded outwards in an almost cartoonish fashion. Long gone we’re the abs he’d worked to maintain as a large soft belly now rested in their place, filling out Jim’s shirt nicely. Before he even had time to process, the same bloating sensation filled his arms, legs, ass and pretty much every part of his body. But it was all too much. Mike’s eyes started to flutter, losing consciousness but before he blacked out he glanced back at Jim stood across the room, still smiling away as his body got leaner and leaner, the clothes Mike had given not looking so tight anymore. The last thing he saw was the way Jim’s facial features started to twist and alter but he couldn’t make out the result before everything faded to black.

Only about 20 minutes or so had passed by the time Mike awoke. Immediately he noticed that not only was he alone in the bedroom but the body he adorned was most certainly not his own. Slowly he sat up, with a bit of effort, and was bewildered to feel a huge gut rolling as he did. It was bizarre but somehow he now filled out all of Jim’s clothes perfectly. The jeans, the socks, the tee. All of it hugged his body just right. The belt buckle even burst due to what must’ve been pressure after how tight Mike had done it up before. What the fuck was going on?!

The perplexed man pulled himself up off the floor to inspect himself properly. His arms looked much bigger beefier than before with a mix of fat and muscle while his legs were now gigantic monsters with thighs that permanently stuck together due to the sheer mass. Naturally the very first thing he did was pull up Jim’s shirt and of course he saw none other than a big hairy belly. But not just any hairy belly. Sure it looked different from this angle but it he was certain it was Jim’s belly! But how?!

Mike couldn’t help but rub and even pat it a little in wonder, feeling himself get a bit of a hard on in the process. But even that felt different. Just then, using his bigger meatier hands, Mike undid the zipper on Jim’s jeans before whipping out his cock. Only it wasn’t his cock. It was a lot thicker than his but a fair bit shorter as well. Just. Like. Jim’s… It even had the exact curvature that Jim’s cock had!

By now Mike had started to connect the dots but at the same time he just couldn’t believe it. After all it was an insane thought but everything was pointing to him somehow… becoming Jim!? His hands darted up towards his face. He still had a beard but it felt different from before yet also familiar at the same time. What caught his attention more though was how pudgy his face felt. All his features just felt wrong like they weren’t in the right places anymore. He needed a mirror!

Dashing into the bathroom, while almost stumbling a few times due to his new weight, Mike couldn’t help but let out a gasp as he saw the face staring back at him. Jim. It was Jim’s face. But not just his face, it was Jim’s entire body mimicking his every move! Shell shocked would be an understatement right now. Mike physically couldn’t speak out of pure disbelief but if he could he was sure the voice he would hear would be that of his boyfriend.

After the initial shock had worn off, Mike couldn’t help but inspect himself further. Poking at his face, pinching his arms, probing his stomach. On one hand he should be freaking out but on the other he couldn’t help but start to feel horny. He loved his boyfriends body so much because he’d always wished he had the courage to give in a have a body like that for himself… and now he did. He flexed his beefy arms a little before turning around to see the thick ass he’d ogled so many times pressed against Jim’s jeans. Almost every part of his mind was telling him to rip off those jeans and start exploring but he was hit with a sudden realisation. If he now looked like Jim then what about the real Jim? Infact where was Jim!?

Mike burst out of the bathroom and stomped down the stairs fully expecting to have to hunt Jim down but it seems he didn’t have to. Sat on the living room couch was a man that looked identical to Mike’s real body… with his cock out. His doppelgänger looked up with a dumb grin as he continued stroking his shaft.

“J…Jim? Is that you?”

“Of course babe! Though I guess you could start calling me Mike now heheh” Jim joked

“W-what the fuck happened? Why am I you? Why are you me? A-a-and why are you so damn calm about this?!?!” Mike spiralled in a panic. Seeing this Jim hopped up from the couch, still amused at how light he felt, before placing a hand on Mike’s shoulder.

“Because I did this.” Jim admitted with a calming smile. Mike’s face contorted with confusion, not being able to speak as he waited for an explanation. “I went into this magic shop where the clerk sold me a special little potion. All we had to do was consume it, wear each overs clothes and bam, total switcheroo!”

“B-but when did-“

“I slipped some into your orange juice earlier when you weren’t looking.”

Mike didn’t know what to say. Why? Why would Jim do this? Why would he steal his body? Part of him wanted to sucker punch the other man but he just couldn’t. The idea of hitting his own face was just… off putting.

“You’ve gotta go back and get more! We can’t just become each over Jim!”

“Why not? We’ve been dating almost a year now. We know enough about each over. Plus the shop clerk also said we’d gradually gain some of the memories of our new forms. Besides, I see the way you look at me sometimes. Especially when we eat together, the way you always look at the food I eat. And the way you always grab and worship my stomach during sex. You wanted to have a body like mine right?” Jim deduced before grabbing hold of Mike’s gut and shaking it a little. Once again Mike was lost for words but the twitching bulge in his jeans was all the answer Jim needed. “Look, I got a second vial of the potion as well so if you don’t like this we can always swap back later. Just try it for a day or two and see how you feel babe.”

Mike wasn’t sure how he felt about all this. He was horny sure but the idea of him not only having to live Jim’s life but Jim living his as well just seemed weird… but maybe not in a bad way. He’d always said how he’d liked to have worked construction had his police job not worked out since building was always something he’d found oddly interesting. Jim on the other hand had frequently mentioned how he’d have loved to know what being an officer was like. Before his train of thought could travel any further though, Mike felt one of his former hands slide down the back of his jeans before squeezing his bigger, furry ass cheeks.

“And you can’t tell me you’ve never wondered what it’d be like to fuck yourself. I know I have.” Jim murmured though he barely had time to finish the sentence before Mike pressed his pudgy face against Jim’s.

The couple made out for a few hot minutes, groping at the bodies they used to own before Mike broke them apart. “Fine, we can do a trial run, but you should’ve told me about this first…”

“I know I’m sorry babe… I was just so excited and acted a little irrationally.” Jim slowly began to pull Mike’s jeans down until his ass and very excited cock were exposed. “But hey I’m certain we’re going to have lots of fun” He stated with a grin before turning his old body around and pushing him down against the couch, getting a good view of his thick former ass.

Mike grunted in pleasure as Jim shoved his face between the colossal cheeks. No wonder Mike always loved eating his ass out before sex, it tasted so fucking great and the feeling of having his face smushed between those giant cheeks was nothing short of euphoric. Fuck he was so glad Mike was kinda on board with this. In all honesty, what Jim did wasn’t a lapse in judgment at all. He wanted Mike’s body. Sure Mike was his boyfriend and he loved him but Jim had always felt such a deep, jealous desire towards Mike’s fit, lean body. The fact of the matter was Jim never intended to swap back. Ever. You see Jim had lied about having a potion to switch back. In fact the one they’d taken was a temporary switch that would undo itself after 48 hours… unless of course they fulfilled a certain condition. To fill each over with their seed. Once that was done, it was completely permanent with no way of undoing it.

“Fuuuuuuuuck my ass feels incredible!” Jim stated as he gradually pressed his new cock between those furry cheeks and into the hole. “Or should I say your ass now hahah!”

Mike couldn’t deny how amazing it felt on his end. Having the cock he used to own shoved up inside his new hole was a feeling like no other. Part of him was starting to think that maybe this was a good idea after all. He’d always envied Jim’s pudgy body and now he had it all for himself. Just feeling all the pudge jiggle as he was rammed into felt amazing, especially the way his belly wobbled. This was what he’d always wanted but was too afraid to have. During this Mike was surprised just how into this Jim was getting. He was really giving his ass a pounding, not that Mike was complaining at this point. The real icing on the cake however was when they flipped over so Mike was on his back. With a smirk Jim began caressing Mike’s thick hairy tits before pinching at his nipples. The feeling was electric! Mike’s old nipples never felt like that. Sensitive beyond belief. Now he understood why Jim had always told him to play with his nipples during foreplay.

“Yeeaaahh I knew you’d like that.” Jim guffawed upon seeing Mike’s face contort in pleasure. “I only realised just how sensitive my old nipples were when I got this body and started to touch yours and realised they didn’t feel nearly as euphoric. Thankfully the rest of your sexy body more than makes up for that though.”

Jim continues to pound into Mike with a certain eagerness that Mike had never really seen from his boyfriend before. He was certainly enjoying though. And even throughout getting his ass pounded by his own cock, Mike couldn’t help but still feel up his own body. Grabbing at his belly and arms, squeezing his chest and of course pinching at his nipples whenever Jim wasn’t already doing it. At one point Jim even stopped fucking just to bend down and suck on them. Mike found himself groaning out and holding his former face against his furry tits while his cock throbbed and leaked. It was official. This was some of the best sex he’d ever had!

The two fucked it so many different positions. Some where Mike was even pressed against the floor or the wall while getting drilled but they ended in the same position they started in. On the couch with Mike laid face down, ass up while Jim was getting ready to explode. He sped up in pace, now so eager to finish inside Mike. He began to shout and curse as his balls clenched before…

“OOOOH YEAH FUUUUUCK!” Jim bellowed, his cock unloading a huge nut and creaming his former ass. “Take it! Take it all!” Little did Mike know that Jim wasn’t just referring to the cum but for him to take Jim’s body as well.

Mike was pleasantly surprised afterwards however as almost immediately after pulling out, Jim was already putting his own ass on display for Mike while pretty much begging to fucked. Mike was more than willing to oblige, pumping his fatter dick and lubing it up with spit and precum. He shoved two of his thick sausage fingers inside the hole first, exploring it a little in bewilderment before pushing the fat tip of his member inside. It was a little tight but Mike had taken Jim’s cock enough times in the past to be able to slip right in.

Everything about this felt foreign to Mike. Using a new dick to fuck with felt so oddly different and feeling his new body weight shift and jiggle with each thrust was such a bizarre sensation but it was one he enjoyed throughly. Not to mention how much stronger he felt now. All this size came with enough strength to be able to pick up and move his former body into whatever position he liked. Before long Mike was stood up holding Jim in his arms of whom had his legs wrapped around Mike’s large waist as he bounced up and down on Mike’s member. It made him feel dominant in a whole new way he never could’ve experienced before.

However due to all the nipple and prostate stimulation from beforehand, Mike was swiftly getting ready to blow. They found themselves back on the sofa once again with Jim’s legs up in the air while Mike pumped at an ever increasing pace.

“Fuuuck… fuuckkk I’m… gonna cum…” Mike was just able to grunt out between thrusts.

Hearing those words was like magic to Jim’s ears. Immediately he wrapped his legs around Mike’s waist, pulling him in close. “Yess! Yess cum inside me! Fuck yeah give me your fuckin body!” Jim blurted out

“Fuu-…W-what? What do y-ooooooahhhh” Mike was stopped short as Jim lunged forwards and grabbed both of Mike’s nipples, squeezing and twisting them causing the other man to go into a frenzy.

“Just cum you giant bastard!”

On cue Mike’s jaw goes slack for a moment, letting out a deep satisfied groan as his new bear nut rose through his cock before erupting in a massive flow of thick cum that filled Jim’s hole to the brim. Both men had a look of blissful accomplishment plastered across their faces but for totally different reasons. With that however, Mike collapses on top of Jim after pulling out, totally exhausted and sweaty. Jim didn’t mind though. If anything he welcomed the feeling of being pinned under his old body while taking in his former sweaty scent. Fuck it smelt even better from the outside. But more importantly he was just happy that now, no matter what, he got to keep Mike’s lean athletic body.

- 1 week later -

Jim had just finished preparing his balanced dinner for the evening after recording all the calories. By the time he sat down at the table though, Mike was already digging into the takeout he’d ordered. Jim smiled seeing how happy and content Mike was. Just a week ago they’d been in the opposite positions but since they switched things couldn’t have been better for the couple.

The couple first days were a tad awkward. Since they hadn’t fully gained the necessary memories yet Mike was getting quite a few odd looks around the construction site. Jim on the other hand had not choice but to use up some of his sick days since he couldn’t risk doing police work without the proper knowledge. However by about day 3 the new memories had sunk in and the pair were able to perfectly slip into their new lives. Jim was quick to get along with his new partner on the job and it didn’t take long for Mike to get in on all the banter with his new tradie buddies. Soon enough nobody would ever be able to tell that they’d been living the opposite life up until a week ago.

Jim of course was more than happy with his new body. It was first time in his life he’d ever had abs, not to mention proper muscled pecs. Everything about him felt so lean and compact. He was faster, had way more stamina and was incredibly flexible. All of which was a dream come true. Before he’d have never have been able to get himself into this kind of shape but with Mike’s discipline instilled within, he was have no problem maintaining a healthy, balanced diet and keeping up with a consistent work out schedule. Now that he’d experienced what it was like to be as fit as this, there was no way he’d ever want to return to his old body.

Mike was having a similar experience but on the other end of the spectrum. For him it was the first time he’d had a gut that sometimes blocked his view as well as big squishy fur tits. Every inch of his body felt so hefty which in turn made him feel stronger. Stronger than he’d ever been before. And he loved it! Sure he might not even had the same stamina and flexibility but who needs any of that anyway when you’ve got such a hot pudgy body to enjoy 24/7! Plus eating was just so easy now because he could eat whatever the hell he wanted. Pizza, Burgers, Fries, Chips, Chocolate, Muffins. All of which he would’ve seen as taboo before unless he had a rare cheat day. Swiftly Mike was falling deeper and deeper in love with his new bearish body.

“Mmmhmm… this stuff is soooo good babe. I can’t believe how much I’ve been missing out on all these years.” Mike said between mouthfuls of Chinese food. He’d been ordering something different to try almost every night so far.

“Haha well don’t tempt me. Gotta keep in top shape for the job.”

Mike chuckled “Honestly I was a little annoyed when you first pulled this whole switching thing on me but this last week has been one of the happiest of my life.” he admitted. “You know I always envied your body. Huge and chubby to just the right degree. Fuck I wanted to have this so badly but I was too scared… but look at me now!” He pulled up his shirt, patting and rubbing his big furry gut with pride.

“What I’m trying to say is Thank you… and if you really want I wouldn’t mind staying this way. You know… for good.”

Jim had to do his best to keep a straight face as Mike still believed this was reservable. Instead he simply replied saying that he would love that and that he’d throughly enjoyed his time in Mike’s form as well. “Well then, if that’s the case, then should we start getting used to calling each over by our new names for real now Jim.”

Hearing his boyfriend call him by that name made the new Jim’s fat cock immediately spring up in his pants. “I think you’re right, Mike.”

With that the interesting couple finished their meals after fully embracing their new identities. The new Mike would sleep soundly knowing he tricked his boyfriend into thinking the permanent swap was his own idea and could continue to pound the new Jim’s ass almost every night. Besides this was the best ending for both of them. They both got the bodies they desired and were an even happier couple than before.

This story was actually meant to be up a couple days ago as it was only supposed to be a short 1K word story but I ended up getting quite carried away. Regardless I hope you all enjoy!

#magic #male body swap #male body theft #male transformation #permanent #weight gain #bear #hairy #identity theft #cop #tradie

454 notes · View notes

ronearoundblindly · 2 years

Text

Eighty-Third Time's the Charm (3)

CEO!Steve x assistant!Reader

Balance (see previous or series)

Summary: At Steve's suggestion, you get an assistant of your own...right before a huge event.

Warnings: light angst, some language, miscommunication, possibly poor editing WC 2.3k

Topaz is a very nice lady and all, but what the fuck is she doing at American Capsules?!

Ok, well, Topaz is…not exactly nice. She’s got an attitude that could drown fish in the sea and a resting face that could curdle milk. She is, however, magnificently efficient. After only a week, you’ve grown so fond of her thick Kiwi accent barking at you to go home or go out to drinks that you find your cheeks hurting from smiling.

The thing you don’t understand though: does Steve think you can’t handle this job on your own anymore? You’ve been fine for three whole years without help. Yes, the company has grown consistently in that time, but a point of pride for you has been setting up most departments to run steady and necessary communications through you (and between themselves) to minimize Steve’s time dealing with minor fires instead of the big-picture stuff. This was done on purpose. In theory, you’ve got less impending work to do day-to-day now than you did when you started.

So why, why, is Topaz here?!

You talk poor Pepper’s ear off about it in the dressing room of an extremely fancy designer boutique while trying on potential dresses for an upcoming fundraiser hosted by Stark.

“I don’t think you need to worry about it so much,” Pep offers, smoothing the slinky blue gown over her hips. “Maybe he really is just trying to lessen your burden.”

“Why is Rogers suddenly thinking of my burden? That might have been helpful that spring he decided all transport would be carbon neutral within sixty days before pissing off the Bermuda with Stark—ugh, I’m not sure about this one,” you sigh, pulling the heavy velvet curtain back. “I look like I’m naked.”

Pep’s face lights up. “Buy it,” she says immediately and flatly, “because if you don’t I’m buying it for you.” She straightens her posture and smiles. “It’s on Tony’s account, for my birthday he missed.”

“No, that’s not necessary. It’s just…”

One shade away from your skin tone? Too booby? The most flattering thing you’ve ever seen on your body? Yeah, it is. That’s the magic of this silky cut and draping.

Pepper cocks an eyebrow. “Yes,” she mutters, “you’ll need some jewelry, too.”

It’s one afternoon when you’ve had to put out more fires than usual and Topaz is pressing for an explanation of what’s happening that you snap.

“It will take longer to tell you than to just do it. Please, give me a second.”

Your assistant is insistent though. “Well, how the hell am I supposed to take over for ya if you won’t let me learn,” Topaz complains between phone calls.

Your eyes go wide, and your jaw drops.

Whipping around in your chair, you stomp to Steve’s office without a second thought and throw open the door.

“You’re fucking replacing me,” you scream at the startled man sitting atop the edge of his desk.

He stands at attention so fast that his pant leg gets caught on the corner, and he grabs at the run while you close more distance.

“I work for you twenty-four-seven for like one thousand days, and this is how you repay me? You make me train my own replacement?” You’re so stunned and enraged that your arms go up, indicating every piece of art on the walls, every bit of furniture, all of it which you chose for him. “Steve, I have done EVERYTHING for you except get your dick wet, but god knows, that’s what you have Stark for. You asshole!”

Then you get in his face. “I understand that you think you are some high and mighty, super-savvy business man who can do no wrong because money is the root of all power or some bullshit, but this—“ you poke your finger into the chest of his impeccably tailored suit “—is a shitty thing to do.”

Lowly, after the adrenaline ebbs over the cliff edge, you finish, “I thought you were better than this.”

Steve stands dumb-founded before reaching out a hand, but it’s not towards you.

“I’mma call you back, ma.”

“You do that, dear,” Sarah Rogers chirps with what might be the faintest chuckle before Steve cuts off the line.

His eyes remain fixed on yours while his head turns. “Topaz,” he calls, “could you shut the door, please.”

“What an excellent idea, sir,” the woman drawls, with heavy judgment, before obliging.

Steve blinks for the first time since you barged in and offers you a seat. You staunchly refuse.

He starts with your name—your first name—and suddenly you’re sure this is it; you’re about to be fired from the first job you’ve ever actually loved. Maybe you should sit down, but your legs won’t move.

“So I hate to admit that this…wasn’t my idea, but the plan was to—ok, Tony let slip the other day that he plans to name Ms. Potts his CEO.”

You make a questioning face and scowl. “Good for her. What, so you planned to pimp me out as his assistant, too?”

“Oh my god—“ Steve rushes forward to grasp your shoulders before thinking better of it and dropping his hands to his pockets “—no. NO. No, I just didn’t want to make it seem like I stole his—right, no, I was hoping that once Topaz is trained and can take over for you that you’d be my co-CEO.”

“What the hell.”

It’s not a question because there’s too much blood rushing to your face to comprehend any answer given.

“See, it’s just now occurring to me that this looks bad, and that’s probably why I should always run ideas by you first.” Steve runs his hand through his hair nervously. “So if you think about it, this kinda proves my point, and uh, even though I’m gonna need to explain that to my mother, I feel pretty confident in the plan still.”

What the hell. Your brain can’t process both the flattery and the mortification at the same time, and you collapse into one of the ergonomic leather chairs facing Steve’s desk, mouth agape for who knows how long before finally responding.

“I see.”

Yeah, that’s all you’ve got.

“Right, well—“ he takes up residence in the other chair and leans forward as close as he can “—I know that the workload for your current position means you don’t get to see your family very often, and I’ll understand if you’d just like to stay at this level with Topaz to help out. That’s fine. That’ll work, too, but you step in and help with my actually job so much that the title might not be much of a difference in what you already do…

“You still with me over there?”

“What? Yes.” You’d zoned out looking through the windows in disbelief. “I…I’ll need to think about it.”

“Of course,” Steve says, standing and fixing his jacket. “I—I didn’t mean to upset you. I thought—“

“Thank you, sir,” you breathe, making a b-line for the door as quickly as possible, unable to meet his eye. “I’m going to step away for lunch for a minute, but—“ get out, get out, get out “—Topaz will—“ get out right now “—be here.”

You just barely glance back as you slide back over the threshold. Steve stands with the smallest, fondest smile on his face.

Get the fuck out right now. Go, go, go.

“Sir,” you nod one last time and watch his smile grow. You smile, too, but only on the other side of the door.

You still haven’t decided what to do by the time Topaz is ready for a test run. At Steve’s suggestion, you take a few days off to visit your parents, and if anything is truly needed, Topaz can get in touch.

“A dry run, if you will,” Steve said, “plus I know where to find you in case of real emergency.”

It’s dumb that you thought about him showing up on your parents’ doorstep your whole plane ride there, right? It’s awful that you eagerly anticipated texts from either of them, isn’t it? It’s sad that you pictured drunk-Steve, curled up like he was on your hotel bed, more than once in your childhood home, maybe?

Yes, but that doesn’t stop you. In fact, you don’t receive a single text, email, or voicemail from your boss the entire trip except one message after you land in New York again.

S. Rogers: see you at the gala. Topaz and I did great!

So your triumphant return (and Topaz’s magnificent success) culminates in Stark’s fundraiser. Pepper shares her town car to the venue with you. She’s just come from having a stylist do her hair and makeup, a special treat for herself, and she did offer to have you join. You weren’t prepared for all the fuss. It made things feel too important when you are essentially a wallflower for an event with actual celebrities and rich people—very rich people.

Exiting your apartment, you felt nice, but when you see all the perfectly coifed patrons on the actual red carpet, you deflate.

“Mind if I go around the back, Pep?”

She’d disappointed, of course, but she would never want to make you more uncomfortable. Before you wisk yourself away with your silky train behind you, she is sure to mention that your dress really is gorgeous and you wear it like a champ.

“Just know you’re a natural,” she whispers, grasping your hand gently over your bejeweled clutch.

She’s so genuine it makes you blush. See, now, she will make a great CEO.

“Meet you inside,” you wink.

A lot of the banquet and catering staff for these events work with both Stark Industries and American Capsule regularly, so you walk by many familiar faces and receive a gentle chorus of hellos to “Señorita Cappy.” You smile shyly and feel just as on-display as you would with the press outside. You can’t remember the last time you showed this much skin.

The service elevator is packed with waiters, but everyone smiles at each other. There’s a moment of camaraderie, a fortifying breath before every single person including you has to put on a performance.

The staff motion for you to exit first, but you blame your dress and say you’ll wait till last. They don’t argue—bless them—because you need the few extra seconds to be ready.

You missed work the last few days. You missed the rush and the routine and the challenge and the chaos. You missed…

Nope. Just take a deep breath. Step out. Drop the train of fabric and walk.

You think back to how you looked in the mirror at the boutique when you first tried this on, conjuring up that confidence without a reflection around you. Doesn’t hold all that well, so you pop into the ladies’ room to pat some cold water on your flushed chest. Then you can see. Then you can smile. Your hair and makeup look just how you wanted, and if you’d gone to a professional, it may have looked too overdone for the simplicity of the rest. Delicate, single-strand gold earrings frame a bare neckline, and since you don’t have rings to wear, Pepper suggested a thin, golden charm bracelet.

Maybe you should have chosen differently. Sometimes, when you turn your head too far to the side, an earring tickles across your collarbone, reminding you that there’s just these three millimeter straps holding the whole getup.

Too late now. Don’t sweat. Ugh.

You slurp some cool water from your cupped palm and blot your lipstick once more.

Go time, damn it. You think of your dad cheering his favorite sports team, hearing his ‘go get ‘em, tiger’ loudly in your mind. That makes you excited. You’ve got this.

You plaster on a soft smile to walk by the main elevators where a thin sea of guests pool. You get a few glances and nods. You’ve been in meetings with about a quarter of the men here, and they seem to notice that.

Your neck tenses absently as you round the corner into the solid wood ballroom, and there’s no buffer. Steve Rogers is just right in front of you. He’s all you can see. Even with the nearly fifty feet between you two, you’re sure there wasn’t a second that his eyes weren’t already on you.

He stands shoulder to shoulder with Tony by the bar, lips parted but unmoving as Stark rambles and sips his scotch.

You can’t even see the blue of his eyes. You’re pinned in place.

He mouths—well, he probably says it but you can’t hear—an ‘excuse me’ to Tony and makes his way towards you, a pristine velvet tux jacket stretched across his frame like a sin.

You grin at his approach. You couldn’t stop if you tried, but it catches across his face, too.

When he’s close, Steve swings his arm out.

“You look—“

Oh god, this must be the most inappropriately scandalous dress. You shouldn’t have listened to Pepper. She can pull this off. You’ve never tried. Why would you pick today to test it out?

“—spectacular,” Steve finishes, dragging his gaze all the way to the floor before closing the last few feet between you. His hand snakes a few gentle inches across your barely covered waist to draw himself near. He kisses your cheek. “Just marvelous, doll.” He pulls back and with less than an ounce of pressure against his fingers, he holds you in suspense.

“Welcome home.”

Well f*** me, gang. This is gonna be a lot longer than three parts, and I've decided as a series, it will be called "It Had to Be You." Damn if I'm not loving the shit outta these two though.

[Next Part] Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi

dividers by @firefly-graphics

#steve rogers fic #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #steve x you #series #it had to be you #captain america x reader #captain america fanfiction #modern au #ceo!steve rogers #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x f!reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x reader fluff #assistant!reader

252 notes · View notes

erzbethluna · 1 year

Text

Six Sentences Sunday (except is an art process)

Well, hello there, beautiful creatures! :D thank you so much for the wonderful tags!!! they mean a lot for meeee!! I haven't posted in a bit, doing a master is a bit stressful. But! I'm always lurking around and seeing as much as I can the amazing things you all are creating!! As you might know, I'm right now doing lots of fan work for my amazing and beautiful friends @confused-bi-queer and @hushed-chorus, which stories are very close to my heart <3

This time, I would like to share my art process. It is a contrast between the traditional art, and the digital one. Each process is different with each person. When you want to represent something someone else created, it is important to get as many insights and feedback from them, and know the source material. Previous: The Talk ™ First and foremost, you need to talk with the author. Maybe if you are doing fanart, is not that needed. But when you are doing a collab, it is important to be in the same channel as the author, and have a brainstorming about the ideas, vision or insights they might have. Contrasting ideas, situations, deciding which illustrations are more viable, scheduling the releasing, etc. all those topics are important! Feel free to suggest creative adjustments, might or might not work for the author, but is worth the shot. A creative idea is never a wasted one ;) once you have decided, then is time for: 1. Sketching

The sketching part is very important! You layout your scene for the first time! start deciding where light and dark will be, the color palette, the feeling you want to evoke, and work with the expressions the characters will have. It doesn't need to be perfect to be a good sketch! It needs to evoke the idea! This stage is the same in both traditional and digital, at least for me. I always start on paper :) I show my sketches to the author, and we fangirl together ;) then (after maybe some adjustments, maybe a whole new sketch) they approve the idea! Is time for: 2. Lineart

Lineart is different for traditional and digital, but not really. For traditional, I first decide which kind of medium I will use. This will be crucial for the materials I will procure myself with. This time I went for watercolor with a bit of mixed media, so I needed a paper strong enough for the watercolor to behave. Then, I chose the liners, which are waterproof and light fast. I line with 0.5, 1.0, 4.0 and some edged broader pens meant for calligraphy. In digital, I work with a Wacom bamboo and Photoshop, and I use some hard brushes with pressure sensitiveness activated. You can customize your brushes, or use packs available on the internet. The wonders of digital are that you can make as many mistakes as you want, and you can always go back. I usually paint my lineart in the darkest shade I will use in the whole illustration, but never black. When you are happy with your lineart, then is time for:

3. Colours!!

The fun part! The one I enjoy (and suffer) the most!! Color. I love painting, but both traditional and digital can be as demanding as you wish! In traditional, you have to be more careful with the mediums. Watercolor is such a wonderful and nightmare way of expression, because you can't really control it. You have to be ok not being in that control, understand how it behaves, and work fast. I always end up adding acrylics for color enhancing, lights, and specific details I want to represent. Let your work rest, I can have a finished piece in two hours, or in three days. In digital, unhinge. Unhinge my child, have fun! You can correct, filter, move values and start again as much as you want!! There are so many brushes, so many filters, so many textures, the whole color palette light allows! Have fun! But two important things I always do: make a folder for each character. Don't be me some years ago, when I used to paint everything in a single layer, or not name any of them. Order is important when you want to correct things. Also, I encourage you to limit your color palette, this way the whole illustration makes sense. I always do something I call 'The ambience layer', where I put a layer over the lineart and everything, and I add lights, shadows, textures, etc. not specific of any object but of the whole scene. And I always add filters and color correction and tweak the values here and there. Great! Now you have a: 4. Finished piece

You have finally finished! Make sure you sign your pieces, and you give them digital treatment if you are going to publish them on the internet. Always work with RGB values, and export for web :) always send your advances to your authors, and send the finished piece via e-mail, so it doesn't lose quality. - - - - - - So yeah, this is basically the whole process :D soon I will share a different process with different versions of the art involved. Would you like me to create a guide with export values and formats and all that jazz? I hope you enjoy this! :D Please check the fics these pieces (and many more) were made for: The Rise and Fall of Us and What Remains After the Storm. I tag: @hushed-chorus @confused-bi-queer @kohatenz @artsyunderstudy @moodandmist @mostlymaudlin @palimpsessed @henreyettah @aristocratic-otter @cynopoe @bookish-bogwitch @cutestkilla @wellbelesbian @skeedelvee @cattocavo @krisrix @johnwgrey @asticou @takitalks @ionlydrinkhotwater @dragoneggos @ic3-que3n @castawaypitch @ileadacharmedlife @stitchyqueer @facewithoutheart @fatalfangirl @thehoneyedhufflepuff @aroace-genderfluid-sheep @bazzybelle @basiltonbutliketheherb @nausikaaa

#art #art process #six sentences sunday #fanart #fic fanart #snowbaz #simon snow #simon snow salisbury #tyrannus basilton grimm pitch #basilton pitch #traditional art #digital illustration #art based on fic #carryon #carry on #carry on rainbow rowell #co/ws/awtwb

43 notes · View notes

lavellenchanted · 2 years

Text

Personal Effects

Steggy Week 2022, Day 3: Headcanons and Meta ↳ A headcanon for post-Endgame

The box sits at the back of Peggy’s wardrobe.

It’s been there for years, moved with her between apartments and houses, plain cardboard with a thin layer of dust on the lid and a blouse that’s fallen of its hanger draped across it and almost obscuring the neatly typed label stuck to the side, that reads, Personal effects of Cptn S. G. Rogers.

It is, like many things in Peggy’s life, a secret.

At the end of the war it had seemed as if anything related to Captain America, anything that might even have retained half a fingerprint, had been scrupulously collected by grey, angular men indistinguishable from one another in their identical suits and taken to some undisclosed location – all of it was packed up and removed from the SSR base, presumably to be pored over for any tiny particle of DNA that might help the government recreate Project Rebirth.

All of it, except one small box that Chester Phillips had brought to her the day the men in suits first arrived and that she had managed, by some small miracle, to spirit out of the base and hide among her own things.

Most of the time it remains undisturbed, apart from when the occasional pair of shoes are stored on top of it. It usually only ever comes out once a year, its contents lifted out one by one and tenderly examined, a quiet ritual to mark an anniversary few others ever think about.

Until the day she’s finally able to return it to its rightful owner.

It’s a few weeks after Steve shows up on her doorstep, when they’re sat at the kitchen table discussing paperwork and false identities and who, or if, they’re going to tell that he’s return when he makes an offhand comment about at least there isn’t the complication of having to reclaim any belongings. He clearly expects Peggy to laugh and blinks in surprise when instead she sits bolt upright before dashing upstairs.

When she returns and places the box down in front of him, his mouth falls opens.

“Are these . . .?”

“Your things.” She nods. “It’s all I managed to save after – well. After. I didn’t even think about it before now but what you said – I thought you might like to have these back, at least.”

His hands shake a little as he lifts off lid and looks to see what’s inside, small pieces of his past that he never expected to see again.

There’s his ration book, worn around the edges, most of the stamps torn out, kept because his name and signature still legible on the front in his clear, neat handwriting. Several loose sheets of paper with half-finished sketches drawn in idle moments. One of them – his cheeks flush red when he sees it – is of Peggy, her face in three-quarter profile, unaware that she was being observed, the pencil strokes soft and drawn with obvious care.

Beneath the sketches are his old watch – a cheap, second-hand thing bought when he was a teenager. It’s long since stopped working, but he takes a moment to marvel at the worn line in the leather strap where he used to have to fasten it so tightly to stop it falling away from his wrist.

A dog-eared copy of The Invisible Man, which he’d been halfway through reading before his last mission. There’s an irony there, given the uncertainty of his own status now, but he doesn’t delve too deeply as he flicks through and finds the ration coupon he’d been using as a bookmark before setting it aside.

There’s a pocket knife, that he thinks was given to him as a present by a neighbour when he was small; it had been replaced by standard military-issue equipment when he was on duty but he couldn’t bring himself to get rid of it entirely and so stowed it away with the rest of his belongings.

And finally – a wallet. Old leather that was beginning to fall to pieces even back that, with a couple of dollar bills still inside, but far more important is the small, black-and-white photograph tucked behind them.

It shows a young woman seated in a chair, a man stood behind it with a hand on her shoulder. She wears a simple, long-sleeves white blouse and ankle length dark skirt, with what looks like sensible boots beneath it. Her hair is pinned back from her face and it’s difficult to be sure of the colour when everything is shades of grey, but it appears blonde. She’s smiling, her right arm held up across her chest so she can hold the man’s hand. He’s in an army uniform, tall and broad-shouldered, hair a few shades darker than the woman’s. He’s looking down at her rather than at the camera, a softness in his expression visible even small and at a distance.

Steve looks at it for several moments before turning it over to see the date written on the back in his mother’s looping cursive: 23 January 1918.

Peggy watches the mingling of joy and grief on his face, and reaches out to place a comforting hand on his shoulder, unconsciously mimicking the pose in the photograph.

“Your parents?”

“Yeah.” His voice cracks a little and he clears his throat before continuing. “It’s only picture I ever had of the two of them together. Dad went back to the front a couple days after this was taken, and it was a month or so later that he died.”

Sorry doesn’t seem nearly enough, especially it only takes the barest calculation to know that Steve’s mother must have just found out she was pregnant around the time this photo was taken.

“You look like him,” Peggy says instead, running her hand up the back of his neck to stroke comfortingly through his hair. “But I can see your mother in you as well.”

“Mom always said I reminded her of him. I liked that, to feel like he was still a part of me even though I never knew him.” Steve absently rubs his thumb over their faces. “One of the more difficult things about being in the future was that I didn’t have anything of them. Sometimes I felt like I was forgetting what they looked like.”

For a moment a frown clouds his face, but then it clears and he looks up at her with a smile.

“Thank you for saving it.”

“I’m just glad you have it back, my darling.” Peggy leans down and brushes a tender kiss across his mouth. “I think I might have a frame somewhere that can fit it – we can put it out on display. Let me check.”

While she disappears from the kitchen to search, Steve turns back to his old wallet and rummages inside again before pulling out one more item – a small, squared silver key.

He grins briefly before slipping it into his pocket. Peggy doesn’t need to know about this, not just yet. Not until he’s had a chance to visit the bank and see if the safe deposit box he left behind is still there, along with the most precious thing he owned before enlisting.

It might be a while yet, but he wants the first time Peggy sees his mother’s engagement ring to be when he’s asking her to marry him.

#steggy #steggyweek22 #steggy week #steggy week 2022 #steve x peggy #steve rogers #peggy carter #otp: the right partner #my fic #please forgive any typos I dashed this off in like two hours

105 notes · View notes

playedwright · 2 years

Note

buddie + “you’re crushing my hand” from the nightmare prompt?

one hundred years later i finished this sorry anon</3 (prompt from this list) read it on ao3

The worst one in a long time happens the night before he's due to start back up at the 118.

In a few hours, when Eddie thinks about it, that fact won't surprise him. But he wakes up gasping for air and digging his fingers into the blankets, half expecting to find mud caked under his nails and filling his throat, and in the moment all Eddie can think is these aren't supposed to keep happening.

He's in therapy now. Most days he's okay with it.

Other times he wakes up at four in the morning with the lingering sensation of the earth crushing his chest.

"Eddie?" comes a voice from the dark next to him, and it should startle him, maybe, except it's a voice he knows better than his own. A presence he'd find comfort in anywhere.

"Sorry," Eddie murmurs. He scrubs at his eyes and is unsurprised to find wetness on his cheeks. "Just. Nightmare. You know."

Buck props himself up, still-half asleep and rumpled-looking even in the low light. He peers at Eddie curiously. There's a soft downturn to the corner of his mouth that, more often than not these days, Eddie wants to press his thumb against. "You wanna talk about it?"

"Go back to sleep," Eddie says, a bit too sharp. Guilt rattles around inside him like the world's most fucked up pinball machine. It's not Buck's fault, after all, that he got woken up by Eddie's nightmare. It's not Buck's fault that he's a good person who, above all else, lives and breathes to help people. "Shit, sorry, I'm sorry."

"Hey," Buck whispers, voice quiet in the moonlight. He reaches a hand out blindly and doesn't stop until Eddie gives in and twines their fingers together.

Buck has been officially single for sixteen days and a handful of hours - not that Eddie's been counting, or anything - but he's been staying at the Diaz house for a few days longer than that. And he is beautiful, all the time, really, but especially bathed in the scant light illuminating Eddie's room, and especially with sleep-lines on his cheek and ruffled hair. Sometimes Eddie thinks that even if they could spend the rest of their lives together, it wouldn't be long enough for him to memorize every which way Evan Buckley can be beautiful.

"You're crushing my hand," Buck says lightly, and there's a teasing lilt to his voice but Eddie still burns with embarrassment anyway when he realizes he'd lost himself in thought while still holding onto Buck. "Hey, no, none of that. Hold on as tight as you need, alright? Just. Let me help, if this is how I can help."

"You always help," Eddie mutters, without thinking, but he relaxes his hand in Buck's and lets himself continue to be held.

It isn't the most comfortable - Buck still propped up on his free elbow and Eddie sitting up and curled in on himself as tight as he can go, but Buck doesn't let go. Eddie focuses on matching his breathing to Buck's and tries to control the fluttering in his chest when he realizes Buck knows what he's doing because their breaths begin to square out.

"Do you remember," Buck starts, and he swipes the pad of his thumb along Eddie's knuckle. "Do you remember the last time you held my hand like this?"

Eddie blinks slowly. "What?"

"Tight, like this," Buck explains. There's a smile in his voice that Eddie would kill to see. "It was, uh. Years ago. When the ladder truck crushed my leg and you wouldn't let go of my hand to go try and lift the truck with everyone else.

Jesus, Eddie thinks. His throat goes tight. "I didn't know if you remembered much about that night."

"Pieces," Buck murmurs with a shrug. "Most of it usually from nightmares. Then, uh. The last time I held your hand this tight is when. When, um."

"When you pulled me under the truck the day I got shot," Eddie realizes. It comes back to him like muscle memory; a sensation he'd forgotten until the exact moment Buck squeezed his hand that tight again. "Right?"

Buck can't hide the surprise in his voice when he says, "I can't believe you remember that."

"You saved me," Eddie breathes out. "You kidding? How could I possibly forget that? I remember all of it. Hell, look around you. These walls have been literally patched up by your hands, because you pulled me out of the wreckage. You carried me to safety. Your hands kept my blood in my body. Evan. Baby. You're always saving me."

"Eddie," Buck says, helpless.

Eddie squeezes his eyes shut. Its four am, and in a few hours he will clock into work as a firefighter-paramedic for the first time in six months, and in all the scenarios he imagined this he never thought it would happen like this. Still, he thinks, there's a chance to do it right.

Now more than ever, Eddie wants the chance. He maybe even thinks he deserves the chance.

"I'm not going to say it tonight," Eddie tells him, and Buck makes a sound at the back of his throat. "Because I don't want there to be any confusion when I do. I don't want there to be any implication that I'm saying it because you have saved my life more than I can count. And because when I say it, I want you to know that I mean it without conditions. I mean it without having to justify it. But I'm going to say it. Because it's true."

Buck lets out a wet laugh. "When?" he asks, because he's an asshole and Eddie is so, so in love with him that it consumes him. That it paints the walls of this bedroom, so painstakingly and lovingly repaired by Buck's hands. Eddie shoves at Buck's shoulder until he's laying flat in the bed again, no longer propped up by his elbow, and Buck tugs on their still-intertwined hands until Eddie's laying down beside him, too. Then, inexplicably, his face softens. He brushes a knuckle along the edge of Eddie's jaw, tilting his head just enough to press a gentle kiss to the bridge of Eddie's nose. He whispers, "Go back to sleep, Eddie."

"You go to sleep."

"Honey," Buck sighs, exasperated, and the pet name falls from his tongue sticky and sweet. Eddie closes his eyes again and lets himself begin to drift. "Go back to sleep, so that in the morning, I can tell you first."

Eddie had woken up with the feeling of the world collapsing on his chest - but he falls back asleep with his hand curled around Buck's, and all he can feel is the sunrise breaking through the dawn and reminding him he can breathe.

#buddie #911 fox #buddie fic #anon #answered #my writing #wrote this kind of lowkey in a rush but it's fine we move #ANYWAYS i kind of went sideways w the prompt but hopefully anon u enjoy it regardless :')

75 notes · View notes

summeresque0 · 2 years

Text

Decolorize Chapter 1

Pairing: Kazuha/Heizou Word Count: 3.6k Synopsis: Heizou can see ghosts. He’s lived a relatively uneventful life despite this because he’s kept it a secret, but one day, his entire life is turned upside down when he encounters a creature unlike all the ghosts he’s seen, and Kazuha, the shinigami tasked with killing this creature. ao3: Read here on ao3! Check out some fanart/a mini comic I made based on this story here!

Heizou can see ghosts. He has always seen ghosts. Or spirits. Or whatever the translucent beings are that are oftentimes not even human shaped. No one else seems to be able to see them, so Heizou never mentions them to others. Heizou tries to avoid them at all cost because once one of the spirits realizes he can see them, they usually pester him to no end.

Which is exactly what happens that evening as Heizou is walking home from school after having missed his bus. The ghost of a little girl follows him closely, glancing back over her shoulder several times before she clings to him, her small fingers curling into his uniform jacket.

“Didn’t I tell you to leave me alone?” Heizou snaps once they’ve reached the block his house is on. This ghost has been following him around for several days now, and her persistence is beginning to get on Heizou’s nerves.

“N-No, it’s here…” the girl mumbles softly, her voice wavering with fear. “It almost got me yesterday… I’m scared…”

Heizou lets out an exasperated sigh.

“Look, I don’t know what it is, but I haven’t seen anything around here any bigger than you lately, so—”

A thunderous roar interrupts Heizou and makes the girl cry out. She crouches down on the ground and covers her head with her trembling arms. Heizou frowns, turning toward the direction the sound had come from. One glance around the block at the rest of the passersby lets him know that he and the ghost girl are the only ones who heard the noise.

The ground shakes and the roar is heard again, but this time, it’s much closer. Heizou takes a few steps backward as a shadow is cast over the block. He looks up to see an enormous creature peering around the building beside him, and the ground shakes again as it takes a lumbering step forward to reveal the rest of its body. Heizou thinks it kind of looks like an ugly hybrid between one of those bulb spiders from his Spyro game and a lopsided praying mantis. Except this thing is gray with insectile eyes that gleam red and it stands taller than the ten story building beside it.

“Holy shit,” Heizou breathes, right before he’s knocked backward when the creature swings one of its legs toward him. He hits the concrete hard and rolls to a stop a few feet away. With a groan, he pushes himself up so he’s sitting up, feeling as if he’s broken at least three bones. He looks up and his eyes widen as he watches the huge creature loom over the ghost of the little girl, who’s still crouched down on the sidewalk with her eyes screwed shut and her head shielded by her arms. Heizou opens his mouth to warn her, to tell her to run, but before any sound can come out, the creature snaps its head forward and rips off the upper half of the girl’s body. A sickening crunching sound resounds in the air as the creature chews. Heizou stays still, watching in horror, his body not wanting to cooperate as his brain tells him to run, to move, to hide.

The creature finishes off its meal, and all Heizou can look at is the smear of blood on the concrete where the girl was cowering. Small pieces of bone and flesh litter the area around the blood stain. He feels sick, but he can’t make himself look away, not even when the creature turns its attention to him.

Suddenly, a loud screech pierces the air. It breaks Heizou out of whatever spell held him still, and he looks up as he scrambles backward, skinning his palms on the concrete. Heizou looks up to see what diverted the creature’s attention. Someone wearing loose black and white clothing and wooden sandals jumps down from one of the nearby buildings with the largest sword Heizou’s ever seen and slashes at one of the creature’s legs. He looks to be around Heizou’s age, and has with white hair and a streak of red tied in a ponytail. He turns around to look at Heizou, and his expression is one of absolute surprise when he sees Heizou staring back at him.

“You can see me? The hollow? But you’re human—"

That one second the boy is distracted, the creature—the hollow—surges forward, digging the sharp end of one of its legs into his side. Heizou yells to try and warn the boy, but it’s too late. The creature lifts its leg and it's dripping with blood. Heizou can see a gaping wound in the boy’s side, the blood that pours out soaking into the dark fabric of his robes.

“Go! Run!” the boy yells, and Heizou falters for a moment. This stranger came out of nowhere to help him. Doesn’t he have a duty to try to do the same in return? Heizou takes in the scene before him and knows for a fact that he’d be absolutely useless here, so he runs toward his house without looking back, hoping that the boy will be alright.

It’s already dark by the time Heizou slams his front door shut and leans back against it, breathing heavily. He’s not sure what he just saw, but he decides that the strange white haired boy with the strange clothes and the huge sword can handle it, so he takes a few deep breaths and toes his shoes off before heading upstairs to his room. All the lights are off throughout the entire house, so he figures his father must not be home from work yet, and his younger brother went to bed early. Heizou’s legs shake as he gets to the second floor. He decides he’ll just take a shower and go to bed early too. He can copy Xiao’s math homework tomorrow morning before class.

Heizou steps into his room and reaches for the switch to turn his light on when the glass of one of his windows shatters. Heizou lifts his arms to shield his face from the flying shards of glass, wincing as he feels a few piercing his skin. When he lowers his arms, he sees the boy he had just left behind bleeding on the street now hunched over bleeding all over the carpet on his bedroom floor. And his window is broken too.

“What the hell?!” Heizou exclaims as he wildly gestures to the boy, then his window. “You just broke in through my window! What the hell! Who the hell are you?!”

“I’m a shinigami.”

Heizou’s eyebrows raise a fraction. “Right.”

The shinigami rolls his eyes and winces as he rearranges himself into a more comfortable position with his back against the wall. He frowns as he looks himself over and seems to notice for the first time the torn, bloody fabric of his robes and the open wounds all over his body. He mutters so softly that Heizou would’ve been convinced he was talking to himself if he didn’t hear what the other was saying.

“I’m in charge of granting safe passage for all the souls still lingering here to Soul Society, and if they turn into something as ugly as that…” The shinigami points his thumb behind him toward the window. “Then I kill it. I just saved your ass, so be grateful.”

Heizou gives him a look of disbelief. “Right, of course you are. But you broke my window, so you better be paying for—”

Heizou gets interrupted a second time that day by the same thunderous roar. Something huge and sharp and white smashes through the wall right next to the white haired boy, then recedes, leaving a huge hole. The creature’s caught up to them, and it’s using its legs to try and break in. It leans down until Heizou can see one enormous, shiny red eye looking at him through the new hole in his wall, and then it lets out a deafening shriek.

The shinigami scrambles away from the window toward Heizou and collapses when he’s a few feet away. Heizou rushes over to him and kneels beside him, placing two fingers at the base of the shinigami’s throat, just to make sure he’s still alive.

“Damn, I’m not dead,” the shinigami manages to croak out as he weakly pushes Heizou’s hand aside. “But at this rate, you definitely will be! It’s following you!”

Heizou frowns at these words and wants to argue, but the shinigami continues before he gets the chance to.

“I’m bleeding too much and all I’ll be good for is getting myself eaten. And then it’ll eat you too. And your whole family. If you want to save them, you’ll have to do what I tell you to.”

Heizou continues to frown as he processes this information while the shinigami stands up on shaky legs. He then picks up his sword and points it at Heizou’s chest. Heizou goes still when he feels the very sharp tip pressing into his skin as he inhales.

“What are you—”

“Shut up,” the boy interrupts. Heizou would’ve been offended if he didn’t see the desperate look on the boy’s face. “Look, I can’t fight that thing in my state, but you… you can borrow half my power, and you can kill that thing. It’s a temporary thing, of course. But I’m going to have to stab you first.”

Heizou’s about to take the sword and stab the shinigami after hearing something so stupid, but then the creature roars and his entire house shakes so hard Heizou is afraid it'll collapse. Heizou weighs his choices in his mind. His brother’s in the other room and he needs to keep him safe. Right now, he doesn’t have the ability to even scratch the hollow. So Heizou looks the shinigami straight in the eye.

“Alright, shinigami.”

“My name’s not shinigami. It’s Kaedehara Kazuha.”

Heizou nods. “Shikanoin Heizou. Now, let’s do this."

“Okay, so I’ve never actually done this. But it’s supposed to work… in theory,” Kazuha mumbles.

“Are you serious?” Heizou asks incredulously.

Kazuha shrugs and winces when the movement makes a fresh spurt of blood come out of his wound. Heizou can see the blade of the sword quivering in the shinigami’s unsteady hands, and he swallows thickly. This isn’t going to end well. But it seems like he has no other choice, so he takes a hold of the hilt of the sword, his own fingers closing around Kazuha’s, and drives the blade into his chest, ignoring the shinigami’s yelp of surprise.

And it hurts like a bitch.

————

Heizou can only describe what happens next as an out of body experience. He feels stupid using that description because he’s standing there, his clothes now replaced with black and white ones similar to Kazuha’s and laying at his feet is…him. His body, but in his regular clothes. It’s a literal out of body experience.

In his hand he holds a sword, shorter than Kazuha’s but wider, and Heizou wants to say heavier, because he feels like he’s doing a whole arm workout holding the thing up.

Kazuha’s eyes widen in shock as he stares at Heizou. “Wait, you took it all–”

Heizou doesn’t have time to properly panic about his body lying beside him or question Kazuha about what it is he took because the creature lifts one of its legs and drives it down with the intent of probably murdering him. Using instincts he didn’t even know he had, Heizou manages to lift the huge sword so the creature’s leg hits the blade instead. Heizou is pushed back several feet, but he plants his feet onto the carpet and stands his ground. When he can feel the hollow trying to draw its leg back, Heizou grunts, lifting the heavy sword up and bringing it down on the creature’s leg. Heizou can feel the blade sink into the hollow and feels a surge of satisfaction. He makes sure to pull the sword back right before the creature pulls its leg away.

Heizou’s body is shaking and he can’t hold the sword still, but he’s sure it's from the adrenaline rush of actually being able to hurt that monstrous thing. Heizou feels the ground shake as the hollow shifts, and then he sees it lower its head. Heizou freezes when its gleaming, red eye is right in front of him, but then acts quickly to drive his blade right into it. He king of wants to cry when black liquid gushes out onto his sword and his clothes.

The hollow lets out a piercing shriek and thrashes its legs right through the wall, taking down the entire thing and a part of the ceiling as well. It manages to catch Heizou off guard, who’s thrown back from the impact. His head hits the side of his night table, making his vision blur. He hears the clatter of his sword hitting the floor somewhere nearby, but it’s out of reach, and the hollow is getting ready to strike again.

Heizou’s eyes burn as the tears form. His entire body hurts and he might have a concussion. He doesn’t think he has the strength to get up. His sword is too far away for him to reach. He’s going to die. And then this thing is going to kill his brother, and his dad when he gets home. Kazuha’s going to bleed out if the thing doesn’t kill him first. They’re all going to die, and it’s because Heizou got knocked around a little and couldn’t make himself get back up. Weak. So weak.

“Heizou!”

Heizou blinks when he hears Kazuha yell his name, and feels something hit his hand. He looks down and, even through his tears blurring his vision, recognizes his sword, which Kazuha just kicked over to him. He’s not sure where it comes from, but he feels a sudden burst of energy and he yells as he grabs the hilt and leaps to his feet. Heizou can see the hollow’s ugly head and the leg that it brings down to attack him. Heizou takes a few steps and then leaps into the air with his sword raised high, ready to send the creature down to hell when it’s suddenly knocked sideways and topples over.

Heizou’s eyes widen. “What–”

Heizou lands unceremoniously on all fours right at the edge of his bedroom floor where his wall was ripped off and almost falls outside. He looks up to see another shinigami, his black and white robes billowing in the wind, and wings keeping him afloat in the night sky. When the shinigami looks down at Heizou, he sees twin braids framing his face, and a sword in his hand that’s glowing bright blue.

This new shinigami barely spares Heizou a glance before returning his attention to the hollow, which has gotten up and is now scuttling down the street.

Heizou looks over at Kazuha and sees his eyes closed. There’s a moment of panic until he sees the shinigami’s chest rising and falling slowly. Not dead. Good. He returns his attention to the flying shinigami and the hollow. He watches in fascination as the shinigami swings his sword from his spot in the air, and it looks like glowing, translucent blades rapidly fly out of his sword and attack the creature, which shrieks in pain. The shinigami with the braids then dives down at the creature to deliver the finishing blow. The shinigami’s blade slices clean through the creature, cutting it in half. Then, there’s a blinding light that makes Heizou turn away, but it’s gone in a few seconds. When Heizou looks back, he sees, to his surprise, the spirit of an old woman who looks frightened and confused.

The shinigami slowly floats to the ground and says something to the spirit that Heizou can’t hear, and the woman begins to sob as she slowly fades away.

Heizou slumps back against the wall and lets himself slide down to the ground, his hand holding onto the hilt of his sword and using it as support. He swears he’s never felt this exhausted in his life, not even after that one time he spent almost 4 hours at the gym, working out nonstop. He glances around at the damage and sighs. There are huge holes in two of the walls of his room, and one wall is completely missing, along with a large portion of his roof. Most of the furniture is pretty much totaled, but the house is still standing, and he’s alive, he thinks.

He looks at his body, laying on the floor beside his bed, and then down at himself, at the black and white garment that had just appeared when he got stabbed. He’s positive he must be dreaming.

Heizou hears footsteps approaching him and a shadow falls over him when the figure in front of him blocks the moonlight. He looks up to see the shinigami who had defeated the hollow–the spirit of the old woman. Upon closer inspection, he can see that this shinigami looks rather young. He has boyish features that make him look a few years younger than Heizou himself, with bright eyes. His wings are gone and his sword is sheathed.

This shinigami peers down at him curiously before crouching down in front of him so they are more or less at eye level.

“You’re a special one, huh,” he says, his voice soft, like the tinkling of bells.

Heizou doesn’t know what he means, so he shrugs.

“I mean,” the young shinigami says, “you survived. This entire thing. But you’re still a human, and with no training on top of that… You’re special!”

Heizou receives a smile that shines brighter than the sun and seems to light up the dark room.

“Yeah, I guess…”

“I’m Venti, by the way. Thanks for taking care of Kazuha.”

Venti stands up in one fluid motion and pivots on the heel of his foot to turn away from Heizou. He walks over to Kazuha and hoists the unconscious shinigami onto his shoulders. Heizou vision begins to glow black at the edges and it takes his utmost concentration to stay awake. He hears noises of things being rearranged, he thinks one is Venti picking up Kazuha’s sword. And then there’s silence. No noise at all but the wind whistling to make its presence known throughout his house.

Heizou lets exhaustion take over and closes his eyes, deciding to deal with all this the next morning. It’s all probably a dream anyway so he’ll just wake up and everything will be back to normal.

—————

When Heizou wakes up and rubs his eyes to clear his blurry vision, the first thing he sees is his digital clock, reading the time that his first period class begins at. He starts to recall everything that happened and wonders if it was all a dream. He sits up quickly and sees sunlight streaming in through the holes in his walls and his broken window and squints. Someone started fixing his missing wall and ceiling. There are wooden boards haphazardly nailed there. He throws the covers off, ignoring how they slide off his bed onto the floor, and runs out of his room. He checks his father’s and brother’s rooms, but both are empty. He then runs downstairs and comes to halt when he sees his family in the kitchen, his father making breakfast and his brother sitting at the kitchen table doing his homework, so normally, as if nothing happened.

Then he hears them speaking.

“Yeah, that motorcycle accident, it was terrible,” his brother says as he scribbles something down on a worksheet. “The way the guy just hit the fire hydrant and bounced off and smashed against Heizou’s window. Couple feet to the left and it might’ve been my room”

What.

“Right,” his father agrees. “This is why you shouldn’t speed, kids. Good thing Heizou wasn’t harmed. Oh! Son, you’re up! I made breakfast. I started fixing your room already. It’ll take a few days but it’ll be in tip top shape before you know it—”

Heizou’s mind is spinning. He’s sure he just heard a story almost as ridiculous as Kazuha’s ridiculously large sword. Or is he the ridiculous one? Surely an automobile crash is more plausible than… turning into a shinigami and fighting for his life against evil, dead, mutated spirits.

He doesn’t hear his father calling his name until he’s already said it a few times. “Heizou? Whoo, earth to Heizou!”

Heizou blinks. “Sorry. Yeah, dad?”

“Hurry up and get ready for school. You’re already late!”

Heizou doesn’t know what to make of this entire situation, so he decides he’ll just continue about his day normally and try to figure things out afterward. His father doesn’t let him skip school even when he’s coughing up his lungs when he gets sick, so of course their house being destroyed would be no exception.

His thoughts are a whirlwind as he gets ready in record time and takes brisk steps toward the bus stop. Heizou misses the bus. As expected on a day when he’s in a rush. He ends up running to school and up the stairs to his classroom, slamming the door open and leaning against the doorframe as he pants heavily. He looks up, an apology ready for his teacher, but it gets stuck in his throat. Because there, standing in the front of the class beside his teacher and being introduced as new students, are the two shinigami he met the previous night. Their billowing robes are gone, replaced with school uniforms. They no longer look intimidating, just like any other high school student.

So it all happened. It wasn’t a freak motorcycle accident. It wasn’t just a bad dream. And now…

Heizou stands there gaping. The universe is playing a joke on him. That can be the only explanation. He’s sure of this, even more so when Kazuha turns to him and winks while Venti waves.

12 notes · View notes

alto-tenure · 1 year

Text

PL Minigame Review

So with the polls I've made pitting the PL minigames against one another, I wanted to (re)visit them, take a look at them again, and decide whether I actually like them or not. Some of them I completed, some of them I only did a few levels of. This doesn't include LMJ because I don't have it.

Curious Village

Inn:

Some of the additions are a little unintuitive -- for instance, the Baron's statue being in Layton's room doesn't make as much sense to me, since he calls it "a bit unnerving". But it's a solid game, and I love the bits of information you get from it about Layton and Luke. Luke taking violin lessons, for instance! It's not my personal favorite, but I've never been fond of house arranging games. I played whichever Animal Crossing was the Wii one back in the day (New Leaf, I think?) and I spent more time walking around town interacting with the NPCs than doing stuff in my house. It's not my style, but still a lot of fun.

Painting:

A fun little jigsaw puzzle! I enjoyed putting it together a lot. And it's a nice picture once you finish. This is my personal favorite, but it has some sentimental value for me.

Gizmos:

Hardly a puzzle at all. You just collect the pieces and the game arranges them for you. It's my least favorite of the three because it feels like you don't have to do anything for it (and you...really don't?)

Diabolical/Pandora's Box

Camera:

I really like putting together the camera parts. Can you tell I like jigsaw puzzles?

The spot the difference parts, however...those were really hard, even knowing the locations of the hint coins in most of the locations because I put together the camera after I had beat the game for the first time. I would have put it together earlier if it weren't for the fact that I had pretty much every piece in place except for the small one, which I had rotated the wrong way by 180 degrees. Whoops. I like spot the differences, but the ones in this game were really hard.

Hamster:

I ragequit this one on the last level because of this

Do you understand my pain.

This was a fun minigame, but it starts the trend of Professor Layton minigames where you have to make something walk around/drive around, and I don't like the rest of these kinds of minigames. The first few puzzles were fun, but I went back to do the last one, and it really wasn't that frustrating, I just needed to take a step back. Ragequitting is not usually my style, but for a minigame, it was fine.

I didn't know it would sniff out hint coins! This game gives you a lot of help finding hint coins between this and the camera, more than any other game besides Professor Layton vs Phoenix Wright which straight-up highlights which points of investigation are hint coins lmao

The hamster's voice is a little grating, but it's not a deal-breaker for me.

I named the hamster “Nobody”, btw

All in all, I think it's the most fun of this style of game (which also includes the toy car, train, and robot).

Tea Set:

I like this game! It’s my favorite of the three in this game, at least. I’ve talked a lot about the talks you have with the NPCs. While I did look up the recipes, once I had all the recipes looked up, I knew which tea each NPC wanted pretty much right away. They’re not subtle. I like that it lets you get to know Folsense and its residents more. While I understand that some people like poisoning Layton and Luke...that is not the appeal of it for me.

Unwound/Lost Future

Toy Car:

Yeah, I didn’t really play this one after getting it. I think it has some charm to it, though. I like that Don Paolo’s vehicle is also there. It’s funny.

Parrot:

I like this one a lot. It hits the sweet spot between “interacting with others” and fun physics puzzles. I know some people might find the rope bouncing bullshit/annoying, but rope go “boing”

I named the parrot “Sayuri”, which is a reference to Ace Attorney’s parrot (Polly is named Sayuri in Japanese) and I was not expecting it to come up in-game so much and I started to regret my choice later on. And also I didn’t realize the parrot was a he/him when I named him so now he’s a guy named after a female parrot. It’s fine it’s whatever I did the same thing to the rabbit

Picture Book:

Now this one, this one is fun to make mistakes on. At least in this one I don’t cause anyone health issues, since it’s just a book.

Spectre's Call/Last Specter

Toy Train:

The 3D animation has some nice charm to it. The puzzles are fine I guess. I don’t have very much to say about this one.

Fish:

Maybe I’m just bad at puzzles, but this was really hard for me. I don’t like blaming stuff like this on aphantasia because it doesn’t really require you to be able to visualize, but it sure would help if I could. The time limits are short, but I like that it lets you experiment and see what happens. What helped me was usually running the course once without any bubbles, and then going back and adding bubbles once I figured out how the fish traveled. I named my fish Ocean, or something else water-related.

Puppet Theater:

This is the only one that I actually finished during my initial playthrough of the game. I thought it was pretty fun! The stories were neat, even if it was rather easy, since I only played it after I had gotten all of the actions.

Mouse Alley:

I did not play this during my playthrough of Spectre’s Call, but I did get the requisite mouse badges -- I only played it after making the poll for the prequels. I really like it! It’s a lot of fun to catch mice. Though I do have to wonder...would it be possible to use a TAS to get the maximum score of 999,999,999? Why is the maximum score just under a billion?

Miracle Mask

Toy Robot:

This was a weird one. I like it? I had more fun with it than expected. I didn’t like the final boss, though.

Rabbit Show:

My rabbit is named Minuki, which is Trucy Wright's Japanese given name! And then the rabbit turned out to be a he/him. Oh well. Gender isn't real anyways

This one is fun, but I liked teaching the rabbit tricks more than I liked doing the shows.

One-Stop Shop:

My personal favorite! The puzzles are entertaining and I like watching the customers sweep through and go “oops I bought too much”. Rich people lol but as long as I’m scamming them...

Horseback Riding:

I struggled with this until I remembered that my laptop has a touchscreen because it’s new (I’ve only had it for a few months) and that made playing this much easier. I like the additions to it so that it has a purpose (collect all the flags) instead of chasing down the Masked Gentleman as it appears at the beginning of the game. However, I find it extremely ironic because the policeman who gives us access to the game complements the player’s riding skills from the beginning of the game, and I cannot tell you how crappy I was

Azran Legacy

Dress Up:

A fun game that lets you interact with characters. I used to be really fond of those Fashion Show minigames on Friv, so, y'know

Why are all the outfits so ugly. I try to make an outfit that actually looks coordinated but noooo they want something worse. Prima's is the only acceptable one. Then again, she is an in-universe fashion forward girl...

Brenda's is also fun, though her fashion taste is meh. ily straight people

Nutty Roller:

I had a lot of trouble figuring this one out. It's very unintuitive to me. I felt bad when I saw it at 0% on the poll for a long time, but...I just don't understand it.

Bloom Burst:

I've always enjoyed these kinds of puzzles, and the spin it adds by having the mushrooms is cool. I'm not always the greatest at this game, but it sure is a lot of fun.

Adventure Hunt:

This would be more fun if I had played PL while it was in its prime. Then again, I was 10 years old in 2014, and I probably would not have been able to beat the game at 10 years old, even if I did have a 3DS to play it on. Scavenger hunts are fun! It would be more fun if I could play challenges made by other people. As it is, the most worthwhile thing from this minigame IMO are the tickets for the San Grio hotel, which net you some cameos from NPCs in the original trilogy.

Conclusion

The minigames are fun, but after Diabolical Box they started going downhill in my opinion. I like the inclusion of the “bonus” minigames in the prequels; in my opinion they’re better than the trunk minigames and thoroughly underrated. Yes, Adventure Hunt is also accessed through the trunk, but there isn’t any graphic specific to it inside the trunk, it’s just a little unlabeled bubble.

Now, go vote!

Best prequel (trunk) minigame

Best originals minigame

Best LMJ/non-trunk minigame

#professor layton

2 notes · View notes

tammulberry · 1 month

Text

Conundrum: The Groupie Menace (Flash Fiction)

I can't believe this is going to be the first original flash fiction piece I'll be sharing online but whoop dee doo, let's go

Years of the Yapping™ started in 2022 finished in 2024

RATING: GG for Goodness Gracious WORD COUNT: 1.4k+

Giggles.

Hikaru could hear the faint sound of it every time he was on school grounds. Every moment of every day. At first, he didn't pay attention to it. He knew that there were people that admired him. After all, being the captain of the basketball team came with a boost in popularity. That, and his stellar looks. Poetic girls that confessed to him usually said that his name was chosen by the heavens. Whatever the hell that meant.

It wasn’t uncommon for him to receive a pile of love letters on his desk or whenever he opened his locker. Sometimes, there were chocolates and other gifts. Then, there were the slightly rarer occasions of an undergrad bowing her head in embarrassment as she poured out her heart to him. Those were all pretty normal encounters except for a mutant girl that pulled out her own beating heart to offer him.

“I love you so much, it’s like my heart burst out of my chest. Can I have yours?” The mutant girl said with blue lips and pale skin.

“No! Put it back in!” He would tell her frantically, as she fainted on the spot.

Luckily, mutant girl never came back to haunt his dreams. She probably never will come back after that stunt, he thought. So everything went back to normal. He was admired, he basked in the glory of it all and he managed to get away with being an irritable jerk to his teammates.

Until his friend Clayton placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey,” the clay boy started. “We need to talk. Meet me at the place with the really good pizza after school. It’s really important,” he emphasized with wide eyes and walked away casually. Hikaru raised his eyebrow and assumed that Clayton was being the drama queen he always was.

"Dude!” Hikaru called out and Clayton turned around and he acted like everything went slow-mo.

“If it's so important then why don't you just say it?" He asked with a hint of annoyance. It wasn't hard to piss Hikaru off and Clayton got on his nerves the best.

"Because…" Clayton began. He looked around and Hikaru frowned as he followed his friend's eyes. What's his problem? "We should be alone."

And so the guy strutted away to the other side of the building.

Hikaru scoffed. “I was kinda hungry anyway," he said as rolled his eyes and walked back to his classroom on the other side.

***

On Fridays, the basketball team had no practice to compensate for the intensive training on Saturdays. As Hikaru packed his bags, he started to hear a faint conversation.

"Hey, why don't you just go talk to him already?"

"Yeah, you've made it this far. C'mon, you don't need to be so nervous since we're here!"

"And if he rejects you, which he probably will, then at least it won't suck as much."

Hikaru could see them in the sea of people. It’s not like they were being very quiet anyway. They were probably a year below him.

Just some groupies, he thought. He checked his watch to see that it was already 4:30 pm. It was time to have that talk with Clayton. Well, a talk with Clayton was usually just Clayton ranting.

"Hey Hikaru, wanna walk with us to the entrance?" The vice captain, Kevin and the rest of his team waved at him to join them.

"Yeah sure," he agreed and so he continued his walk from the classroom all the way down the stairs, no one around.

Just then…

Giggles.

Hikaru turned around quickly to see that no one was there. Hikaru thought he was going insane. Was it just him or could he still hear the groupies that ogled him from the second floor?

He didn't hear the girl with the crush on him talk yet but when he glanced back, he could hear the faint sound of, "See, he stared at us!"

It's called glancing but whatever, girl. Hikaru did a double take and took note of short auburn hair and blue eyes. Just in case they were ACTUALLY following him.

“He stared again! He’s so into you!” The other delusional groupie squealed.

Hikaru normally walked with confidence in his step but this time, he felt uneasy as he tried to tune the groupies out and listen to his teammates talk about the good life.

His phone vibrated in his pocket and he received a text message from Clayton.

CLAYTON: Where are you, babe?? I already ordered for us!

Hikaru had to stop himself from laughing at his friend’s statement. Yes, Clayton was weird. Yes, Clayton was flirty. And yes, Clayton liked to pretend he was in love with Hikaru. But that was normal, right? That was just the mark of a dramatic guy, right? Him being extra bold lately didn’t mean anything more. Right?

Snapped out of his spiraling thoughts, Hikaru stopped walking. The rest of his team followed suit and glanced back.

"Uh, hey. I'm gonna go to the pizzeria. Clayton called me and said it was important."

Kevin and the rest of the team exchanged glances.

“Hey, why are you guys doing that?” Hikaru asked sternly but Kevin dodged the question.

"Sucks but 'kay, see you tomorrow, bro." The varsity team left him in the corridor to go to the court.

And now he was all alone. He didn't mind it, really. But right now, he could really use some company. As he walked the dimly lit corridor, his sharp ears heard the shuffling of feet, and he turned around to see the same groupies. The moment she noticed he stared, she hid her face and her group snickered.

At least she wasn’t a mutant girl that tried to pull her heart out. That was enough reassurance for him at the moment.

Hikaru finally arrived at the pizzeria.

It was an expensive place, packed to the brim with big families. Big in more ways than one.

Weirdly enough, it was empty now. The uneasiness had yet to subside.

“Hika!” Clayton waved at him from the other side of the pizzeria. Now, Hikaru’s uneasiness threatened to give him an ulcer as he tried to maintain his confidence.

“So why did you want to talk to me?” Hikaru said as he sat down.

“C’mon, no hello or thank you for the food ordered?” Clayton chuckled lowly and true enough, Hikaru’s favorite pizza and wing combo was in front of him.

Hikaru had it in him to smirk and fist bump Clayton. “Okay, man, thanks for the food.”

***

Hikaru had enough.

He didn’t have a lot of patience to begin with but Clayton was really testing it right now. 30 minutes had passed and all the guy did was jump from one topic to the next. And none of those topics had anything to do with what he really wanted to say. Clayton was clearly stalling.

“Dude, lemme stop you there. I don’t need to know about how you accidentally stepped on an ant on the way to the vet, okay?” That shut Clayton up and Hikaru sighed. If what he’s suspecting is really true...

“Look, I’m gonna be straightforward with you. Are you being extra weird because you’re planning to confess?” Clayton looked at him like he had two heads.

“What? No, you dumbass!” Clayton exclaimed and Hikaru didn’t know if he was relieved or offended. “The reason I called you to talk was because there’s a creepy girl that’s stalking you! That’s why I needed to tell you alone!”

“Wait, what? That’s what you wanted to say all this time?!” Hikaru bit back with frustration, exasperation and a mix of embarrassment.

Unable to process anything, Hikaru’s eyes widened in panic as he saw a familiar girl holding up a black bag. “Wait, Clayton! Behind you!”

The girl tried to engulf Clayton in it but Hikaru was able to drag his friend behind him which angered the girl.

He was able to look at her clearly now and he fumed. Auburn hair and blue eyes. It was the delusional girl following him all day...

“Who the hell are you? What do you want?” Hikaru’s voice boomed throughout the pizzeria. The staff and the other customers all rushed to the scene. “We’re gonna take you down, 2 vs. 1. Right, bud—?”

“That’s not the same girl, Hikaru! I’m sorry! I didn’t have a choice!” Clayton was on the ground restrained by another girl.

“What are you talking about?!” Hikaru yelled and he heard a sinister giggle come out of the auburn haired girl. Just then, she unzipped the back of her head and the muck of the disguise fell on the floor.

“I’m sorry, Hikaru...” said the girl. “I really did love you, y’know?”

END.

youtube

#original story #writers on tumblr #my writing #delulu #crush #groupie #misconceptions #cliffhanger #confession #flash fiction #short story #my ocs #original character #Youtube

1 note · View note

loveforpreserumsteve · 6 months

Text

Love Grows (demon!Bucky and pre-serum!Steve omegaverse au)

SALT, HE FOUND, even a few grains of it, made food inedible. "That's perfectly normal," Dr. Pierce said on his fourth visit. "When your body needs it, the aversion will disappear. Meanwhile, obviously, no salt. Trust your aversions the same as you do your cravings."

Steve didn't have any cravings though. His appetite, in fact, had shrunk. A small glass of orange juice and a slice of dry toast for breakfast – that he usually vomited up soon after – some unsalted crackers for lunch, and steamed vegetables and a piece of rare meat for dinner. His routine was very solid from his day to day. Even when it came to Peggy bringing over her vitamin-enriched shakes that were watery, cold, and sour.

"What's in it?" Steve asked.

"Snips and snails and puppy-dogs' tails," Peggy said, smiling.

Steve chuckled. "That's fine. But what if we want a girl?"

"Do you?"

Steve shrugged, "I'll be happy with whatever they are."

"Well there you are."

Finishing the drink, Steve said, "No, really, what's in it?"

"Milk, a banana, some spices and herbs..."

"Terrigen root?"

"Some of that," Peggy confirmed, "Some of other things too."

Peggy brought the drink every day in the same cup, a large one with tiny red stars, and sat at the kitchen table while Steve drained it. Steve supposed that the drink wasn't so bad when he got some company while he drank it. Because, as it turned out, Hodge was spending his days filming commercials, auditioning, and going to callbacks.

Normally, Steve wouldn't have had an issue with Hodge being busy with work. But it seemed as though ever since he became pregnant, he'd been clingy and lonely. Which had never been who Steve had been. Not even when he was a loner in school who had more bullies than friends. Steve had always been very independent and enjoyed his alone time.

Except for now.

Because, now, Steve wasn't dealing with his own loneliness but also Hodge's. Loneliness that gunked up the bond and left Steve feeling cold.

One day, Steve got into a conversation while waiting for the elevator with Mrs. 12B, herself, Laura Barton. The end of it was a brunch invitation for Hodge and him for the following Sunday, but Hodge vetoed the idea when Steve told him of it.

"I'll be shooting the Old Spice commercial," Hodge reminded. Then, he teased, "Got pregnancy brain already? I thought you'd start forgetting further along."

Shrugging, Steve leaned against the doorframe as he watched Hodge shave the shadow of stubble on his face. "I just thought it'd be fun, y'know?"

"Well," Hodge sighed, rinsing the razor, "Even if I wasn't working, I'd need a day to rest. I've just been so busy that I could really use a break."

"Right, I know," Steve assured. Worrying his lower lip, he repeated, "I just thought it'd be fun."

A few nights later, Hodge had broken a dinner and theater double date they had made a few weeks earlier with Sam and Riley. Sam playfully made a big fuss about them canceling, but it still nagged at Steve and made him feel guilty. Not only for canceling, but for not having anything interesting to put in his next show. He was tempted to tell Sam to just forget it all. Steve even thought about calling the gallery owner, Thor. Of course, he didn't, but it was close.

But what got to Steve the most was when Hodge kept putting off dinner with the Erskines. Sure, the older couple knew that they were busy, yet, it got to Steve. Made him emotional. Maybe it was the hormones from the baby, but it still made him cry as he texted the old man. After all, he and his wife were like family to Steve. Especially with his real family being out of state.

And then the pain started. It started off small and subtle. A cramp here, an ache there. At first, Steve assumed that it was just gas. However, he quickly grew alarmed when a sharp, stabbing sensation pierced through his abdomen one morning.

It was enough to thoroughly frighten him as he doubled over in his pain. Reaching for his phone, he instantly dialed Dr. Pierce's office's number. The older alpha immediately wanted to see him, so Steve made his way to his office. He was still wearing his flannel pajama pants and one of Hodge's old, faded sweatshirts, not caring one bit what people thought of him. Hell, he could barely walk upright, what did he care if people took notice of what he was wearing and whether he was presentable, his baby could be in harm!

"You'll be fine," Dr. Pierce assessed after examining him. Helping him sit up, the older man assured, "It's just some normal expansion of your pelvis to better fit the baby. No need to worry."

Sighing in relief, Steve admitted, "I was afraid it might be ectopic or something."

"Ectopic?" Dr. Pierce quirked a brow. "I thought you weren't going to google symptoms."

"I couldn't help it," Steve tried to reason. "I've never felt anything like this before."

"Well, that's because you've never been pregnant before," Dr. Pierce smirked. "But remember not to do it anymore. It'll only worry you."

"I know," Steve sighed. Holding his abdomen as though he could protect his baby this way, he promised, "I won't."

"Now, I'll see you next week," Dr. Pierce decided, walking him out to the receptionist. Before Steve could get scheduled, the older alpha assured, "The pain will go away in two days."

Unfortunately, the pain didn't go away in two days. In fact they were worse and grew worse still, as if barbed wire was wrapped around his uterus and no matter how he moved, those little spurs tugged and stabbed at everything surrounding it. There would be pain for hour after hour, and then a few minutes of relative painlessness that was only the pain gathering itself for a new assault. Tylenol did little good for him and he was afraid of taking too many. Sleep, when it finally came, brought awful, terrible dreams in which he was ripped apart from the inside out by his baby chewing their way out of his womb, or him being torn apart by dozens of cannibal babies with stormy eyes and dimpled chins.

"This happens sometimes," Dr. Pierce said a few appointments later. "It'll stop any day now. Are you sure you haven't been lying about your age? Usually it's the older patients with less flexible joints who have this sort of difficulty."

At home, Peggy sat with him and said, "You poor thing. I can't even imagine. But don't fret, dear, an omega who used to live in 7F had exactly the same kind of pains, and so did two other beta women I know of. And all of their deliveries were easy and went off without a hitch, and they all had healthy babies."

"Thanks," Steve said, but his face grew pinched and wan and shadowed. He looked awful, he knew that he did. Even though Hodge and the Sousas insisted otherwise. Even with the great Angie Martinelli complimented him of his glow despite her not knowing he was expecting.

All the while, a twin lasso tightened around his heart the way that the barbed wire did to his uterus. And he couldn't help but wonder where Bucky was and what he was doing. He wanted to be around the alpha while also not wanting to be around him. After all, he didn't want anyone to see him in this state. Especially not Bucky.

0 notes

anthonysstupiddailyblog · 1 year

Text

Anthony’s Stupid Daily Blog (242): Sun 13th Nov 2022

In the motorbike ride to work today I yawned and my jaw locked up. To passers by I must have looked like the little girl from The Ring had killed me while I was riding the bike. This hasn’t happened in quite a while and I thought I was passed it so I was a bit pissed off that it had happened again. I had to pull over and click my jaw back into place. After I sorted myself out I resumed the journey to work and cursed the fact that this hadn’t happened while o was working for TSB. If I showed up to work at a call centre with lockjaw then they would have had to send me home for the rest of the day. However lockjaw is fuck all use to someone who works in a warehouse. Hell, they probably would have told me to get the fuck to work and to use my open mouth to store my scanning device.

I was pleased to learn that Jerry Sadowitz apparently almost sold out his Hammersmith Apollo gig the other night. I was gutted that I couldn’t go (but in hindsight happy that in didn’t book the trip because it turns out I was contracted to do compulsory overtime in the run up to Christmas). It was absolute bullshit that Jerry had his Edinburgh show cancelled so I’m glad that after all that he will have gotten a decent payday for this show and apparently the other dates on the tour sold out as now people were more aware of the man who brands himself “the world’s most offensive comedian”. As much as Jerry complains about his lack of success I think even he realizes that he can’t be successful or else his act wouldn’t work. You can’t make derogatory jokes about minorities if you are a multimillionaire living in a mansion (unless you’re Dave Chappell but he’s the exception that proves the rule). Sadowitz gets away with the hideous things he says in his act because he (or at least his stage persona) is at the bottom rung of the societal ladder and so any time he insults someone it’s always punching up.

I messaged the organisers of The Sitcommission if the competition was coming back and they told me that it was opening for entrants in January. I’m going to spend the next month rewriting the script I wrote last year but got sidetracked and didn’t finish it. In order to get the script into the first draft stage I followed Graham Linehan’s advice of writing lots of funny ideas on cards then trying to find patterns in all the different ideas and eventually form a plot. Since then I read a piece of advice from legendary (and possibly fictional) Simpsons writer Jon Swartzwelder who says that the best way to write a script is to write the first draft in one day. This draft will be shit but then the next day you go back and fix it, trying to make each line just a little bit funnier. I was really fucking proud of myself for actually managing to finish the first and then second draft of my script and just by comparing it to the shitty scripts I wrote for the competition before I can tell that this advice has really helped. The unfortunate thing is that for this competition you’re encouraged to submit “Episode One” or your show rather than a “pilot episode”. The reason for this (which is apparently common practice in the comedy industry) is that a pilot episode is spent introducing characters and detailing what the the show about and will contain the most exposition of any episode. Commissioners don’t want these scripts because all the other scripts aren’t going to be like this and they want examples of what a typical episode of your show will look like. The script I’ve written is very much a pilot episode because when I started I didn’t know what it was going to be and I discovered the premise as I wrote it. This means I’m going to have to write an entire episode from scratch but hopefully Linehan and Swartzwelder’s advice will prove invaluable. I’m not expecting to win the competition because the standard is usually quite high and I’m not a professional comedy writer. However with this competition which is judged by actual comedy writers you can request feedback on your script even if it isn’t selected for the final stage. All I’m really hoping for is that the judges think that my sitcom “has potential” or “isn’t shit”.

0 notes

britishchick09 · 2 years

Text

this day in rewrite history - may 21st

the roses on christine’s dress are completed... and an eristine date begins! ;D

Half an hour later, Meg and Erik’s eyes were glued to Christine’s sewing needle (Erik’s eyes drifted to Christine herself every once in a while).

“There it is,” Erik whispered. “The final flower.”

Meg gasped. “This is it, this is it!”

She leaned close to Christine as Erik said, “Move the mirror forward.”

A few moments later, Christine felt something hit her back and another brush her cheek.

“I’d like a little space, please.” she said.

Meg moved back and used her hand to move the mirror, but it fell against the wall! She quickly adjusted it before sitting by Christine, who was concentrated on sewing.

“There,” Christine said a few moments later. “The roses project is finished! Finally!”

Meg and Erik cheered as Christine set the needle down.

“This calls for a celebration.” Erik said, giving a wink to Christine.

She rested her head against the mirror with a tired sigh.

“And a nap!” she added wearily.

...

Christine knocked on Erik’s door at exactly seven o’clock that night. Just as she moved her fist away, she heard the first slow notes of a familiar song. She pressed her ear to the door, being met with silence. She made her second knock louder than the first.

Then she heard a clatter! The sound startled her and she jumped back.

“Erik!” Christine exclaimed once the door opened. “What happened?”

“Hello, Christine. U- Um…” Erik looked down at his hands, which were being wiped with a dish towel. “N- No- Nothing’s happening. E- Except for you coming inside.” He stepped aside to let Christine walk into the house. “Take a seat by the table. I thought things would be ready, but I’m sure you don’t mind waiting a bit.”

“I don’t.” Christine replied.

The velvet chair had been moved to face the table, which was now beside the window. A lavender candle decorated the table’s center.

“Oh, how nice!” Christine exclaimed, making herself comfortable in the chair before breathing in the candle’s calming scent. “Ah, this is just what I need after these past few days.”

“You definitely deserve it,” Erik agreed. “Do you like the piano candles? I- I usually don’t light them because there’s sheet music around.”

There were two candlestick holders on both sides of the piano’s front panel, which was usually covered by music. The panel’s flower decorations had a golden glow because of the candles.

“It’s beautiful,” Christine said with a smile. “That reminds me… what song were you playing earlier? I heard it just before that loud noise.”

Erik looked slightly surprised as he went to the kitchen doorway. “O- Oh, I was just… practicing.”

“Practicing what?”

“A- A- A song. One that you can’t hear yet,” Erik said, looking at the clock on the wall before disappearing into the kitchen for a few moments. “I- It’s nearly done.” “Is it something that I can’t know of yet?”

Erik nodded and watched a bit of wax drip from into a piano candle holder. He looked at Christine as he said, “U- Um, would you like some water? The thing you can’t know about yet will be hot, but there won’t be any ice to cool it down.” “That’s fine.”

Erik returned to the kitchen, emerging with a smile on his face. “It’s done!”

He set the water on the table and it nearly knocked into the lavender candle. Christine moved the candle aside as Erik brought out a wide bowl.

“I, uh, I made some soup,” Erik said. “It’s supposed to be chicken with noodle, but I don’t have chicken or those special noodles, so it’s more like, um… carrot spaghetti soup.”

Christine smiled as the bowl was set on the table. “To tell the truth, I don’t care for pieces of chicken in soup. When I was sick as a girl, I’d always hide them in my napkin! But I love carrots. And spaghetti is so unique!”

Erik smiled back. “I hope you like it.”

Christine looked down at the bowl. “I think I’d like it more if I could eat it.” Erik suddenly realized that Christine didn’t have a spoon and chuckled sheepishly. He grabbed one from the kitchen and dragged the piano seat over to the table, giving the spoon and a napkin to Christine once he sat down.

Christine admired the floral pattern on the spoon’s handle before taking a bite of soup. “Mmm, this is delicious! Definitely worth the wait.”

“It is, isn’t it? Is the spaghetti alright?”

Christine nodded. “I can barely tell the difference between this and regular noodles.”

“Good! I was worried that you wouldn’t like it because of how… how unusual it is.”

“I don’t dislike something because it’s different.” Christine said, giving Erik a small smile.

She continued to eat her special soup for a couple minutes. All Erik did was watch her.

“Are you going to have any?” Christine asked.

“No.” Erik said, smiling as he set his elbow on the table and rested his hand on his cheek. Christine frowned as she sipped at her water. Despite Erik’s placid expression, the air felt awkward for her.

“You know a thing or two about masks, don’t you?” she asked, making the tension fade away.

Erik shrugged. “Maybe. Why do you ask?” “I was wondering if I could borrow one of yours for the masquerade.”

Erik gasped as if Christine had said the most offensive thing in the world. “You want one of my masks? But this is a masquerade!”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Masquerade masks are for very special occasions! You can’t just take one of mine and call it a day. Sure, they’re nice, but they’re terribly plain. And a masquerade mask only covers around your eyes, not your nose or forehead. It’s called a domino mask. You’d look boring and silly with one of mine on.”

Christine took a bite of soup before saying, “What do you think it should look like?”

Erik put a finger along his mouth and looked down at the table in thought. “Obviously, it needs to be pink to match your dress. Maybe have a little rose on the side and green trim. A lot of people put their masks on sticks instead of wearing one. They think it’s ‘more comfortable’ or whatever,” He scoffed with a roll of his eyes. “Yeah, right. There are plenty of comfortable masks out there. Case in point…” He pointed to his mask. “Holding up some pathetic little stick every once in a while isn’t cutting it. The point of a mask is to conceal your identity- to mask it, I should say. It’s not some silly decoration!”

Christine giggled, hiding her laugh with her napkin

“What?”

“I didn’t expect you to get so worked up!” “When you know a thing or two about masks and wear one nearly every second of your life, you tend to develop strong opinions on them. Since you’re not a stupid slave of fashion, you’ll use a ribbon to keep the mask securely on your face. I use black so it blends in with my hair-”

“So that’s how your mask stays on!”

Erik chuckled. “Exactly. I don’t think pale yellow ribbons exist, so you’ll have to go with light pink or white. It’s always good to match your hair even if it’s not exact. I- I can sketch out some designs if you want.”

“I’d like that,” Christine took another bite of soup. “What were you sketching the day we went to the music museum for the first time?”

“Oh, just… things around the house. I like drawing from time to time. I’m not the best artist visually, but it keeps me busy. Would you, um… like to see some?” Christine nodded. “I’d love to!”

Erik went to the drawers and pulled out a stack of paper. One of them slipped to the floor. Christine caught a flash of red and black before Erik hurriedly picked it up. He returned to the table with a piece of paper.

“These are some recent ones.” he said, showing Christine a drawing of a red rose and a sketch of a man and a woman.

“That rose is lovely!” Christine said. “Who is the couple?”

Erik looked at the sketch with a sad smile. “My parents. You talking about your father brought back a lot of memories of them. I figured I should get a visual representation down since I don’t have a photograph like you and… well, they’re bound to fade from my memory eventually. I’ve never drawn people before and it was hard to picture them after so long-”

“I think you captured them perfectly. I can see you in both of them, especially your mother.”

“She was my favorite parent. She was sweet and gentle just like you. Of course, my father was kind as well. He taught me the card trick that Meg loves so much. And he was always telling stories of the past.” “Sounds like someone I know!”

Erik laughed, making Christine’s heart warm. “I always loved hearing his stories. My mother’s, too. For my fifth birthday, I asked them for two kisses- one for now and one to save. I…” He suddenly turned morose and looked down at the sketch. “I never received them.”

“How terrible.” Christine said softly.

“It was. I did receive a new mask, though. One made of silk instead of rags. And even though I was greatly disappointed about the kisses, that didn’t diminish my love for them. I’ve never stopped loving them. I don’t think I ever will,” He looked at Christine. “What did you get from your parents?”

“Well…” Christine took another bite of soup. “I got my love of music and most of my looks from Papa. My mother died not long after I was born, but Papa said her hair was just like mine, only it was a darker shade of blonde,” She paused and sipped at her water. “And we have the same smile.”

“She must have been very beautiful. I know you are.”

Christine looked at Erik in surprise and his face turned pink underneath his mask.

“U- Um… Why don’t I play some songs while you finish your soup?” he offered. “I wouldn’t want it to get cold because of all our talking.”

He put the drawing away before moving the piano seat back to its proper place and played a slower version of Rage Over a Lost Penny. Christine ate her soup, tapping her feet to the beat of the song. She finished eating just as the song ended.

“That was perfect timing!” she noted with a laugh.

Erik turned around. “Oh, you’re done. Perfect timing indeed!”

#i love the eristine scene in this! :D #especially erik's mask rant ;)#this day in rewrite history #poto rewritten

0 notes

lamm97russo · 2 years

Text

hermes pochette kelly 11

Hermes Kelly Cut Price 2021 The different Kelly clutch is the Kelly Cut, and in my eyes, that is the extra elegant edgier older sister to the Kelly Pochette. It has the identical short deal with, however is longer and thinner. It measures approximately 31 cm in length, thirteen cm in top, and a pair of.5 cm in width. As a few of you might know, my Rose Jaipur epsom GHW Kelly Cut is the latest addition to my clutch/bag assortment, and clearly the type which took me the longest to search out in my actual specs . This clutch fits less than the Pochette, and about the same quantity of things as what can match within the Medor 23 cm. Here, we current all you need to find out about Birkin leathers and hides. The Kelly bag is trapezoidal with a handle, onto which, from 1960, they added a detachable strap, allowing for the bag to be carried by hand or on the shoulder. It closes using two exterior buckles and a padlock. It is supplied with a strong leather lining, in addition to four studs mounted to the base, permitting it to be rested on the ground. Its unparalleled quality requires the same craftsman to work on the bag for eighteen to twenty-four hours. When stacking up the hierarchy of Hermès purses, the pinnacle of luxury is the baggage affixed with Diamond hardware. This one is crafted of Rose Azalée Epsom Leather with Palladium Hardware. The excellent working of Hermes Handbags brings high finish charming for individuals who have it. Each product of Hermes Kelly Pochette Bag In Blue Glacier Epsom Leather is the end result of passionate design, distinctive fashion and nice consideration to every small detail. replica hermes kelly pochette Replicating the original Kelly Hermès to perfection, the Pochette is usually considered as a mini bag somewhat than simply a clutch. Whichever view you are taking, the type and adaptability of the Kelly Clutch has made it a favorite amongst collectors and the social elite. To provide you with a more accurate and comprehensive understanding of the merchandise you want, every piece of our merchandise are one hundred pc actual type of high-resolution digital pictures of introduction. Hermès uses the most expensive alligator in the world, the skins don’t have small holes on the scales, as you see with inexpensive alternate options. This is barely more costly than crocodile pores and skin, of which the company prefers the niloticus and porosus species (they don’t fool with Caiman croc or any lesser crocodiles). The bag owns extraordinarily modern design, each stitching thread stands out on the extraordinarily beautiful and delicate leather surface. Honoring heritage brands and lengthening the lifecycle of luxurious objects. On an Hermès Kelly bag, the zipper pull will all the time lie parallel to the tooth and mustn't dangle vertically into the pocket. The tab will be a folded piece of leather, reduce right into a diamond shape in the identical material and shade because the bag. Hermès is known for hand-producing each and every one of their bags to this present day. That’s another thing about an Hermès Kelly bag — it must be entirely symmetrical. If there’s a certain stitching technique on one facet and it’s doubled up at the ends there, it should replicate on the opposite side as well. A bag with handmade high quality doesn't make my job tougher, because there may be nonetheless is a degree of perfection that hand stitching has to satisfy. About eight or 9 days from the day of order until supply. There isn't any need to worry about after-sales issues. The hardware is in exceptional condition with minimal signs of use. The interior is in exceptional condition with minimal signs of use. Images are of the actual item and are an accurate representation of condition. This makes the bag completely versatile and it is usually what I use to run round with little kids , go to movies/dinners, and for cocktail parties that are not completely dressy. My Kelly 25 is the retourne style and in Togo leather, so it is not a very dressy trying one and it holds a lot. The Medor is an old-school Hermès clutch which is perennially edgy and fashionable. The design is a direct echo of the Collier de Chien bracelet, with its distinctive spiked closure. The interior has a flat pocket on the again facet. Chevre is a supple goat skin while taurillon clemence is delicate and durable bull leather-based. Many individuals favor the 2 being crafted into Birkin baggage. Each season, Hermes launched new kinds in exotics to attract their clients. wikipedia handbags Lizard and ostrich are sometimes used to make Kelly bags. Thank You for sharing this Informative Blog.I hope that you'll share more blog in Future. As you would possibly be trend lover so i wish to share you this superior website “Lingwuasia” the place you will get Beautiful Hand-crafted Leather Handbags In Different Styles And Hues. Hermès makes use of an agate stone to shine its crocodile and alligator skins to a shine. They don’t glaze their skins as other manufacturers do, so your bag won’t peel or crack as easily. With use, the shine will boring, creating a pleasant patina.

#kelly pochette #hermes kelly pochette #mini kelly pochette #kelly pochette bag

0 notes

prettierthanurbf · 3 years

Text

So What?

Y/n walked down the halls to find her best friend, getting the overwhelming feeling she’d be stuck walking into class alone, when she finally bumped into someone she knew. “Oh, great.” She mumbled irritably.

He turned around with a grin. “Well, hello, y/n.”

She rolled her eyes at his cocky grin. “Where’s your brother?”

The question just made his grin grow wider, making your patience even thinner. “Wouldn’t you like to know.” He teased.

She let her eyes wander around the halls to avoid eye contact when her eyes landed on him, sighing in relief, she pushed past his brother and hurried off to Tom. “Hey.” She said happily.

He looked up from his book. “Nice of you to wake up early for once.” He teased.

She laughed. “My parents are going to cut me off if I miss school to sleep in.” She explained.

He looked over her head, his eyes stopping on something that made his eyebrows furrow. “Mattheo’s staring at you again.” He whispered.

She quickly spun around to meet Mattheo’s eyes, turning back around so quick she almost fell over.

Tom helped her stand. “You alright?” He asked concerned.

She put a hand to her head. “I swear if he hexed me I’ll burn the little bastard.”

Tom chuckled. “Now I might just help you with that.”

Before y/n could say anything else, the teacher opened the doors for everyone in the class to walk in.

The whole class was a blur, mostly because y/n was asleep through half of it and hurrying to copy off of To ‘a notes during the other half, paying no attention to the teacher whatsoever.

Tom had to talk to one of his teachers before the next class started, which left y/n waiting outside on a bench alone with a book until class started.

Mattheo, who had grown bored of his friend group, walked off to bug y/n, sliding onto the bench and taking the spot a little too close to y/n.

She didn’t glance up from her book or move. “What?” She asked calmly.

He raised a brow. “No snarky comment? Hm.” He hummed. “Are you feeling alright?”

She rolled her eyes. “What do you want, Mattheo?”

“Ah, there’s the tone I was looking for.” He grinned. “What’re you reading?”

She clicked her tongue. “You could check the cover, you know.”

He shrugged. “It would sound so much better coming from your lips than mine.”

She shut her book, her finger holding the page she was on, snapping her head to look at him. “What do you want, Mattheo?” She repeated, this time a little less calm.

He smirked. “Maybe I want to help with your anger issues.”

“Maybe you should work on yours first.” She said back.

He laughed. “We could work on it together.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’d rather burn. Over and over. For eternity.”

He shrugged. “I could make it worth your while.”

She raised a brow. “What’s your angle, Riddle?”

He looked away with a small grin. “There’s no angle. I just think we could help each other out.”

“Have fun finding someone for that because I’m not your girl.” She slipped a small piece of paper into her book before getting up.

“But you could be.” Mattheo mumbled, but y/n had already walked off with all her things.

His shoulders slumped. “Great.”

Tom walked over to him laughing. “Did you seriously think whatever you were planning would work?”

Mattheo scowled at his brother. “It’s not like you’ve tried getting with her. Why is she so difficult.”

“She’s not into like that.” Tom said in a ‘duh’ tone.

Mattheo scoffed. “All the girls are into me like that.”

Tom shook his head and laughed a little more. “Not the one you like like that.”

He rolled his eyes. “I don’t like her like that, Tommy.”

“Then stop going after her, because I swear on my life and hers I will make yours a living hell if you break her heart or mess around with her for kicks. Got it?” Tom said sternly.

Mattheo put his hands up, a familiar teasing grin growing on his face. “It’s not that deep, brother.” And with that he walked off, another grinning glance at Tom before going straight ahead to see if he could find y/n.

He didn’t see her until school was over, when the clouds were making weird shapes up and the colors were changing from the sun going down, the black lake always looked prettiest at this time of day, which is why Mattheo chose to walk alongside it, also in hopes he’d find a weird creature in the water and draw it.

He came across y/n when he was walking back to the school, she was laying on her back, her head rested on her book bag, with a different book in her hands than she was reading hours prior. He walked over to her confidently.

“Hey, gorgeous.”

She sighed. “What?”

He sat down beside her. “So this is what you do after school?”

She rolled her eyes. “Quidditch practice was canceled today.”

He nodded. “Totally forgot you were on the team.”

She glanced at him. “Is there any reason you’re here or what?”

He shrugged. “Just wanted to know how you were doing.”

She pulled a piece of paper put of her robe, handing it to Mattheo without looking away from her book. “You read that and tell me how you think I’m feeling.”

His eyes scanned over the paper. “An animagus? Seriously?”

She shrugged. “Now I’ve got to wait for my uncle Newt to come down here and talk to me about everything.”

Mattheo handed the paper back. “So you can’t go home?”

She shook her head. “Apparently my brothers tore up the place pretty bad and they’re trying to get it under control.”

“So why don’t you just stay with me and Tom?”

She snorted. “Because it’s you and Tom. I swear both of you don’t know how to not argue, especially when you’re trying to do something ‘important’.”

Matthe scoffed. “We do not!”

She raised a brow. “So we’re just gonna play that game now?”

He shrugged. “I mean…”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re an idiot if you think you don’t argue with your brother a lot.”

“Just stay with us.” It came out more as a plead than a suggestion, which was not Mattheo’s intention at all.

Y/n laughed. “Beg me.” She joked.

He rolled his eyes. “Oh, ha ha, very funny.” He said sarcastically. “Just stay with us.”

She glanced at him from her book. “If I do will you go away?”

“Maybe.” He said.

She shrugged. “Fine. Just let your brother know so it’s not a surprise or anything.”

“Okay.” Mattheo got up. “Did you finish the other book?” He asked, stopping himself from running off to find his brother so he could talk to y/n some more.

She looked up at him. “Yes. I had most of my classes to read through it.”

“How long have you had this one?”

“Since lunch. Why?”

He grinned. “No reason, no reason.”

“Why?” She repeated, this time sternly.

Mattheo looked down at her. “You’ll find out.” He winked at her before running off to find Tom.

When Spring break rolled around, y/n, Tom, and Mattheo went to Tom and Mattheo’s mansion they inherited when their dad mysteriously passed away.

Y/n explored a little since it was a bit of an upgrade from where the Riddle brothers were staying when she last stayed with them.

She stepped into a dark ish bedroom with lots of books. She walked over to the blinds and pushed them open so she could get a better look in the room.

“I usually like the curtains closed.” Mattheo said, scaring the shit out of y/n.

She turned to him with a hand over her heart. “Warn a girl next time, Mattheo!”

He laughed. “Sorry, sorry.”

She continued to look around. “You know, your room is the darkest one in this whole house. And the most gloomy.” Her eyes landed on the bookshelves. “Except for the books. They’re gorgeous.”

He chuckled. “You can go ahead and take some if you want. I’ve read all of them so I don’t really care.”

She raised a brow before laughing. “You’ve read all these? Like actually, actually? You’re not screwing with me?”

He shook his head. “Is that a surprise?”

“Yes! In all the time I’ve known you, I’ve never seen you open a book.”

“You don’t spend any time in the library.” He stated. “That’s where I am during my free time.”

“When you’re not walking around the lake.” She said.

He laughed. “You stalking me?”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself, Mattheo. I’ve seen you walking around like a loner because I spend most of my time by the lake. It’s where some of the hot guys at our school swim so it’s a pretty good view.”

Mattheo clenched his jaw before letting out a forced laugh. “I forgot you like staring at strangers who are half naked.”

She shrugged. “If they’re hot, they’re hot. I gotta stare.”

“You’re not like… staring at them like that, are you?” He laughed. “Cause that would be weird.”

“Oh, like how you look at me?” She said, raising a brow as a grin pulled at her lips.

He chuckled. “Now, darling, I think you’re just seeing things.”

“Oh?” She asked, walking over to him. “So if I were to take my sweater off you’d keep looking at my eyes?”

He laughed awkwardly. “Well, I think a lot of people would look, honestly…”

She raised a brow. “If your brother was changing you’d look at his chest?”

He rolled his eyes. “No. Obviously not.”

She nodded. “But you’d have a problem looking in my eyes instead of at my chest?”

“Well you’re not my sister so I can look.”

“Well now you just sound like a creep.” Y/n teased.

Mattheo scowled. “Well now you’re not being fair.”

“Oh no?” She grinned, unzipping her hoodie and sliding it off her arms. “My eyes are up here, Mattheo.”

“Screw this.” Mattheo mumbled annoyed. He cupped y/n’s face gently before pulling her in and pressing his lips against hers.

She pulled away for air after what felt like a short time period. “You do that to all the girls who try to take their sweater off?” She asked dumbfounded.

He shook his head and laughed, his hands still cupping her face. “You’re so blind sometimes, y/n.”

She raised a brow. “And you’re not?”

His eyebrows furrowed. “No?”

“You sound unsure.” She teased. “But you are.”

He rolled his eyes, pulling his hands away. “You are more than I am.”

“I’ve been in love with you since I met you.” She said quietly. “And you never noticed.”

He grinned. “So the flirting was getting to you?” He teased.

“I’ll cut your throat.” She said quickly.

He chuckled. “I’ll take my chances.” He pulled her in for another kiss, pulling away when he heard footsteps getting closer to his room.

She quickly pulled back and stood by the bookshelf, getting a book off the shelf quickly. “What’s this one about?” She asked calmly.

Matthe cleared his throat. “Uh, uhm… werewolves.” He said after clearing his throat.

Tom knocked on the door frame. “Hey, there’s hot water on the stove right now. I’ve got to stop by the market to get some more stuff for dinner. I’ll be back in an hour or so.”

Mattheo grinned at y/n as Tom walked off to get his shoes on and leave for the market.

#mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #hogwarts #tom riddle #riddle #fanfic #mattheo x y/n #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #slytherin #deatheater #hufflepuff #ravenclaw #gryffindor #xochmagoch #the power she holds #original series

1K notes · View notes

pippytmi · 3 years

Note

Roommates au, enemies to lovers, “you confuse me.” Supercorp obvs

“You’re a fucking liar.”

This is—objectively speaking—not the worst greeting Kara has ever received from her roommate, and so she takes it in stride. “Uh, hello to you…too,” Kara says slowly, silently running through a list of everything she could have done wrong to warrant such strong words.

But Lena does not offer any explanation; in fact, when she spots Kara in the doorway, she sends her a nasty glare as if Kara has said something wrong. “Don’t pretend you’re a saint in this matter, Lex,” Lena hisses, and only then does Kara notice the cell phone in Lena’s hands. “If I have to go and clean up your mess again…”

So it’s one of those days. Kara wisely shuts the door quietly behind her, and sneaks into the kitchen as Lena takes her argument into her room.

There is a list of chores pinned to the fridge—four black X’s cross out Lena’s, and Kara’s are underlined twice. They have a code, so as to avoid speaking to each other; X’s mean done, underlined means Kara you're a slob and a pain in the ass to live with. (All verbatim, by the way.)

The dishes, however, are not on Kara’s agenda at the moment. She instead takes the expensive whiskey hidden under the sink (that belongs to Alex, not that she has noticed it’s missing), and pours it into a glass with some ice. Then she whips out the ingredients for a stir fry, complete with every vegetable she had been saving for the potluck at work this weekend.

It is an unspoken rule that Lena will shut herself off into her room after this phone call is over. She does that every time her brother calls (and on occasion her mother), and Kara has picked up enough information about her roommate to know Lena will appreciate a hard drink and some food. She hasn’t said so or anything, but every time Kara knocks three times on the door and leaves a plate outside, it will re-emerge an hour later completely empty.

Lena’s voice grows louder despite the distance, and Kara turns on the stereo out of respect for her roommate's privacy. Lena hates the stereo and all it stands for; she argues it is outdated, and they have numerous pieces of technology that are less bulky and fully able to connect to radio stations. But Kara keeps it around anyway, because she still likes buying CD’s (and maybe to bother Lena, which is a bonus).

Blink-182 is playing on that alternative station Alex likes. Kara cranks it up as she cooks, singing under her breath as she sautes bell peppers and onions, ignoring the rumble of her stomach and the tight belt of her work pants still digging into her hips. “Say it ain’t so, I will not go,” she practically yells, poking her head into the fridge for the tofu that Lena always keeps. Kara personally won’t touch the stuff, but Lena is trying to eat less meat. It cuts up easily enough, even though Kara isn’t sure what the proper technique is.

She leaves the finished plate and drink outside after it’s done, rapping on Lena’s door in tune with The White Stripes’ “Seven Nation Army,” and then finally has some dinner herself. Since the tofu is unappetizing, Kara stores the rest of the stir fry in a container for Lena to take for lunch, and opts for a sandwich. She eats while scrolling through her notifications (she owes Nia twenty bucks, and so far Nia has been clogging up her phone with Venmo requests all well over $500), and keeps the radio on just for background noise.

That’s probably why she doesn’t even notice when Lena approaches; Kara has barely begun to type a text to Nia swearing to bring some cash next time she visits when a sharp voice declares,

“You confuse me.”

Which. Is not at all what Kara expected from her usually empty kitchen. And, caught exceptionally off guard, she nearly falls off her chair. “What the—Lena,” she sputters, righting herself. Unfortunately, the crust of her sandwich is a casualty of the surprise, and she watches as it crumples devastatingly on the floor.

Lena is not half as concerned about the fate of her dinner, and she stalks forward to jab a finger at Kara’s chest. “You confuse me,” she repeats.

Kara blinks. Then blinks again. “Um, okay,” she says. “…why?”

A strange, strangled noise rises from Lena’s mouth, and she appears angrier than Kara has ever seen. (Well, except for that one time that Kara did laundry and flooded the apartment laundromat, which had other pissed off tenants leaving mean messages for two weeks straight). “Because,” angrier-than-usual Lena says, “you do shit like cook food for me and don’t even say anything.”

“What do you want me to say?” Kara frowns, not sure where this conversation is going. “If you want I can start saying ‘Hey Lena, I made dinner’ every time.”

“You and I don’t do dinner,” Lena says, and it sounds like an accusation. “Every time I get off the phone, you decide to leave food outside my door. Why? What on Earth compels you to do that?”

“Because you’re always upset afterwards,” Kara says slowly. “And I thought you could use some cheering up, or at least a drink.”

“Whiskey,” Lena notes. “It’s always whiskey. And it’s never a cheap brand.”

“Well, yeah,” Kara says, gesturing pointedly to Lena’s designer work clothes (that she never seems to be without; Kara’s not sure Lena even owns pajamas). “You would probably accuse me of poisoning you if I gave you anything less.”

Lena narrows her eyes. “You don’t owe me anything,” she says. “So whatever this is, you can stop it.”

“What do you mean, ‘whatever this is’?” Kara repeats incredulously. “I’m just being nice!”

“I never asked you to be ‘nice’!”

Kara exhales, and reminds herself that it is illegal to strangle people. Especially since she is Lena’s roommate, and will therefore be suspect #1. Kara has never been a violent person, but her roommate just manages to test her limits.

“Look,” Kara says patiently, “I give you my sister’s whiskey, and she doesn’t care because she is trying to give up drinking. And I’m not a frequent cook or anything, but I can still throw together a plate because I know you don’t cook at all. That’s it! I don’t have a hidden agenda, or some secret plot here. I’m just being friendly.”

“We are not friends, Kara Danvers,” Lena says. “And I know exactly what this is, even if you refuse to acknowledge it.”

God, what an insufferable—“Okay, know-it-all,” Kara says, instead of the ruder words echoing through her head. “What am I doing?”

Lena’s jaw clenches noticeably. “You pity me,” she accuses. “You look down at my relationship with my family, and—and I don’t want your sympathy, or your stupid food, anymore.”

“If you wanted me to back off, that’s fine,” Kara says, holding her hands up in mock surrender. “But I don’t pity you, or feel sorry for you. Heck, with your track record, I’d feel more sympathy for your family. They seem to be on the other end of some nasty phone calls.”

Lena’s expression darkens. “You don’t know my family.”

“I don’t know you very well, either,” Kara retorts, and she turns back to her phone where three new Venmo requests are waiting (two of them well in the thousands range; Nia must think she’s hilarious). “Message received, okay? I’ll leave you alone.”

At first, Kara assumes that's the end of it—assumes that Lena is going to stalk off, and leave a strongly worded post-it on the fridge later that night for Kara to wake up to. That has always been how their relationship works; they fight, reiterate how much they hate living together, and go right back to ignoring each other.

But Lena doesn't walk away. Instead she sighs, and at that unexpected sound Kara looks up just in time to catch Lena frowning. “I—” Lena begins, and then she pauses uncomfortably before getting the words out. “I'm...sorry. I have been having the worst day, and it’s—it’s rude of me to take it out on you.”

“Okay,” says Kara dumbly, because she’s not sure what to respond. Lena never apologizes. Ever. It’s about as rare as, well, Kara actually doing her chores on time. “Thanks?”

Lena bites her lip, glances away. “You’re welcome,” she says stiffly. And this time she leaves—leaves, and abandons the plate of food Kara left her on the edge of the table.

Kara looks down at her phone. There are ten texts waiting from Nia, and about double that of Venmo requests. But she can’t shake the feeling that she is forgetting something, and it’s more than a twenty dollar bill. “Wait,” she blurts out, “Lena. What—what does that mean? You were an asshole to me, and I was an asshole right back, so why are you apologizing?”

“Well, you are more than welcome to apologize too,” Lena says, pausing in the kitchen doorway. She has a quizzical expression on her face, a kind of raw confusion that Kara has never seen before. Without the sharp clenched jaw and the angry eyes, she’s…just a girl. A girl, with a nervous tic of wringing her fingers together. A girl, despite her guarded nature, who is gazing right back at Kara as if she has no right to.

“Do you want me to apologize to you?”

A beat. “Not really,” Lena says. “I don’t—want that. You’re right, you don’t know me. Or my family. We’re nothing to each other, and I can’t expect you to know how complicated my relationship with them is.”

“Still,” Kara says, and she scratches the back of her neck absentmindedly at the sudden flush of guilt that overtakes her. “I am sorry. It was rude of me to, um, say that. Like if your family is a bunch of serial killers, who am I to say you’re worse than that?”

Lena scrunches her nose in a manner that is sort of cute. “Serial killers? Really?”

Kara shrugs—aiming for casual—and really that just looks like attempting nonchalance when suddenly she’s consumed with thoughts about how pretty her roommate is. “Like you said,” she says, “I don’t know your family.”

And, surprisingly, all Lena does is smile. A real smile, the kind that Kara has never witnessed, barely soft and just kind enough. “They’re not,” she says, and unnecessarily clarifies, “serial killers.”

“That you know of,” Kara points out, and Lena’s cautious smile becomes something fuller. That is the only thing that gives Kara the courage to add, “So, now that we have covered the whole you’re not your family thing, are you really not going to have dinner? I cooked tofu for you and everything!”

“You didn’t have to,” Lena argues, because she is defensive to a fault. But she falters immediately after, and sighs again, albeit in a more mellowed tone. “What I meant to say is, I really don’t need you to keep cooking for me. I’m fine.”

“Well what if I want to cook for you?” Kara says, and that is her own fault: she is ready to argue to protect her (noble) intentions. “We don’t have to be friends, if it terrifies you that much—”

“It does not terrify me—”

“—but we can be friendly,” Kara offers, and it’s a testament to her newfound appreciation for her roommate that she manages to even make a sentence. “If you want.”

Lena tilts her head, considering, and this time when she smiles it is curious. “If you knew what I wanted, Kara Danvers,” she says, “your delicate sensibilities would blush to their roots.” And with that odd goodbye, she eventually takes her leave; however, she does take the plate of stir fry with her, so Kara guesses that means they’re on their way to being friendly, if anything.

#remember when quarantine started & i asked for prompts?#yeah u read that right a whole ass year ago?#well. uh. so this is embarrassing but-#supercorp #supergirl #i need a fic tag #proudlyunicorn

2K notes · View notes

ahundredtimesover · 3 years

Text

Inevitable (03) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader (ft. ot6)

Genre/Tags: exes au, parents au, baseball player!JK; angst, fluff, smut (18+)

Series Warnings: foul language, alcohol consumption, minor character death, explicit sexual content in future chapters (oral, unprotected/protected sex but be safe please!)

Chapter Word count: 7.7k

Summary: You convinced Jungkook to break up years ago so he could pursue his lifelong baseball dream. Now he’s back home, staring at you, and the little boy next to you who looks unmistakably like him.

A/N: I do love me some angst but I enjoy writing soft moments just as much. I hope you enjoy this one, too! Thank you for the appreciation for this story :) Also, you can message me if you want to be part of the taglist (or if I missed tagging you)!

Series Masterlist || Previous || Next

The place that Jungkook chose is a little French cafe that has a light and airy feel to it, and you think it’ll help Jungwon feel a little less intimated. There also aren’t many people around, which is surprising for a Saturday brunch hour.

You make out the table far back, by the glass window where you can see the flowers outside. Next to Jungkook is Jin, then Namjoon and Ara. The empty seats reserved for you and Jungwon are those in front of Jungkook and beside him.

You approach them, with everyone except for Jungkook - who just nods at you - standing up to give you a hug, with Jin spending more time than usual. With everything that’s happened, you didn’t realize how much you’ve missed your friends, too. They were collaterals of this whole ordeal; now you’re glad that you feel like starting over with them as well.

Jungwon stands behind you, arms wrapped around your waist when Jin comes close. He’s an unfamiliar face so it’s natural for the little one to be shy and hide behind you, like what he usually does, but he loosens up when you talk to him and make him feel comfortable, so you excuse yourself because you want him to feel comfortable around Jungkook.

You find an empty chair by the wall and sit Jungwon there.

“Hey sweetcheeks, we’re going to meet some of Mama’s friends, okay? They’re new people but they’re very kind and funny,” you say, kneeling down in front of him.

You get the brown backpack he’s wearing and take out his stuffed elephant, one of his many playmates that he likes to bring around. You place Mr. Choochoo in his arms, explain to him what you’ll do and that he can have some sweets later.

“Okay, Mama. I want some cookies,” he says in his tiny voice.

You tell him you’ll order some and pinch his cheeks, then you kiss his forehead, causing him to giggle, and you kiss him some more because you know this also makes him feel relaxed.

Jungkook watches from afar, the pang on his chest reminding him of the time lost, and he wonders if he’ll ever be like that with his own son. Jungwon is at a critical stage where trust is being developed, and Jungkook wants to be someone whom his son can trust.

The feeling in his chest grows as you approach them again. You give him a smile and help seat Jungwon next to his father.

“You remember the other day when you broke your airplane? Someone fixed it for you, right?” You ask.

Jungwon nods, eyes still focused on you.

“Good, because he’s here. Look,” you say, pointing to Jungkook. “He’s the kind man who helped you.”

Jungwon turns and looks at Jungkook, who returns his curious gaze with a grin. The little one is probably familiarizing himself with the man in front of him, as he nods and shyly smiles.

“Hi, buddy. I’m Jungkook,” he says and waves. “What’s your name?”

“Jungwon,” he whispers.

“How old are you?”

He responds by raising his hand to show four fingers.

“And when’s your birthday?”

“July 6!” Right as he answers, it registers to him, causing him to beam, the kind that reaches his cheeks and Jungkook’s heart is soaring. And just like that, the pang in his chest is gone.

You mirror Jungwon’s smile, knowing that’s enough of an icebreaker. He’s a sensitive kid who remembers kindness, and that day at the grocery, he saw it in Jungkook. You could chalk it up to some father-son connection if you like, but you also know that Jungwon tends to gravitate towards other gentle people, too.

The brunch goes surprisingly well, with Namjoon directing the conversations, knowing that it would still take some time to really settle into what was once familiar.

Days like this used to be a weekly engagement filled with jokes and unfiltered comments and hand holding between you and Jungkook, but everyone seems to be careful, reserved, almost unsure, like the glass will break at any wrong move.

Perhaps you’re all just giving this time for both father and son to be familiar and comfortable with each other. You know it will take a while but it’s something you don’t mind at all.

Jin is talking about his recent trip to Japan and his new ideas for another restaurant and you’re engrossed in his stories, until soft laughter catches your attention.

You turn to Jungwon, who’s laughing at Jungkook as he uses the macarons for eyes and makes weird faces, the latter pulling the sweets apart into smaller pieces and giving them to Jungwon who easily chews them. He offers Jungkook pieces of his cookies too, who dramatically devours them.

“My cookies!” Jungwon giggles.

You soften at the sight and excuse yourself before tears pour out and you will yourself to get it together in the washroom. You knew it was going to be a heartwarming proper meeting of the two but you weren’t ready for that kind of moment.

For all his shyness, Jungwon seems to be really comfortable with Jungkook, who’s doing so well, too, letting your child take the lead, not forcing anything, and being his usual sweet self.

Soon enough, brunch is over and you inform them of having to leave right away to make it to Jungwon’s dentist appointment in time. You place him in the car seat and turn to Jungkook, who’s now able to properly look at you, probably for the first time this whole day.

He opens his mouth to say something but his eyes lock in on your neck instead, a familiar piece of jewelry gracing the delicate feature. He stills and you’re confused, until you realize he’s looking at the necklace you’re wearing, the one with the moon and stars that he’d given you on your first year anniversary.

He told you that it was because you light his darkest nights and you squirmed at the cheesiness, smacking his arm and threatening him of getting rid of it if he ever spewed disgusting shit like that again. He loved that reaction, but deep down, you both knew that he was telling the truth.

It was that piece of him you could keep to yourself, one you didn’t have to share nor explain to anyone else. Out of everything you kept of your time together, the necklace was the only thing that didn’t make you break down every time.

You keep your thoughts at bay then nod at him and ask him what he meant to say.

“I’d really like to do this more,” he utters, eyes on your face now. “And not just on weekends. Whenever we can work out a schedule, that would be great. I mean, he and I have so much to—“

“Of course, Jungkook,” you cut him off, knowing he meant to say that there’s so much time to make up for and you don’t want today’s meeting to end on that note. “Let’s work something out, I’m sure Jungwon would love that, too.”

You exchange numbers, as well as awkward smiles, like you’re some teenagers saying goodbye on their first date. It’s a little refreshing though - way better than the last time when he was shouting and crying in front of you.

Any passerby may think it’s the makings of a romantic relationship, but if they only knew. You loved this man, and quite frankly, you’re unsure if you ever stopped.

“I’ll see you again, yeah?” You finally say.

“Okay then. I’ll see you.”

It’s not lost on you and Jungkook that you’re both on very unfamiliar territory.

During your time together, you’d had moments wherein you weren’t particularly fond of each other or weren’t in the mood yet had been comfortable in the silence. The tension was never overwhelming and you just let the moment pass until all was good again.

The longest fight you had lasted for 3 days. Yoongi called for a celebratory dinner over his song making it to the top of the charts and you were ignoring Jungkook, who sat next to you talking to your other friends.

It was an hour later when he eventually pulled you in a hug, and whispered that he missed you and won’t be drinking banana milk for a whole week as punishment for accidentally deleting your entire midterm paper. You caved in then, laughed and deemed it punishment enough, and spent the rest of the night working on said paper in your dorm, a behaved Jungkook playing mobile games next to you.

When it came to both of you, no silence was too loud, no conversation was ever unwanted, and no moment was ever too tense and uncomfortable.

Except for that time in your apartment.

And maybe now, when you’re both seated in front of each other, Jungwon to your left and of all times, decided that he just has to finish coloring the butterfly from his art class. There are two seats that have been empty the past 15 minutes, and you and Jungkook have been engulfed in the most awkward silence there is, even with the background chatter of the restaurant you’re in.

Days after the brunch and official meet up almost two weeks ago, Jungkook had asked to grab dinner - you picked up Jungwon from daycare after you were off at 6PM and headed to the restaurant with Taehyung in tow, only to find Jimin accompanying his best friend. Two days later, the same thing happened, only with Namjoon and Jin that time.

The Sunday after that, you had both Namjoon and Taehyung with you - because your brother wouldn’t confirm immediately and you needed a backup - as you and Jungwon walked to the park, only to find Jin and Jimin there as well. Everyone, of course, burst out laughing but neither you nor Jungkook found it funny.

“What are we, your chaperones?” Jin had asked then, laughing at the whole situation upon realizing what you and Jungkook had both been up to, calling up friends to join you on the weekly father-and-son dates. “You’re both adults who can very well manage conversations, don’t you think?” Jin continued.

You and Jungkook had shyly stolen glances at each other, nervous to be caught looking at the other’s reaction, because Jin had been right. You can only wonder what Jungkook's reasons are but you were calling them up to accompany you because you don’t actually know how to carry a conversation with Jungkook anymore.

You don’t know what to say that isn’t an apology, you’re nervous to talk about Jungwon and make Jungkook feel bad again for how much he’s missed out on, and you can’t really talk about yourself because this isn’t about you - it’s about your son and the relationship he needs to develop with his father.

Never mind the feeling of longing, of the curiosity over what made Jungkook come home, of the interest in his life in the US and how he’s been doing.

Never mind that you want to hug him because everything has been overwhelming and Jungkook always knew how to make you feel better with his hugs and caresses. You don’t have that right anymore, you think. You don’t have the right to ask about his life after you broke his heart, you don’t have the right to miss him, nor to get to know him all over again.

You need your brother and your best friend not just to carry conversations but also as support when you feel weak, as you observe Jungwon be so natural around his father.

Jungkook had only introduced himself by his name but Jungwon had taken to calling him Cookie Monster since their moment during that first brunch. No uncle, no anything, and you hope it stays that way.

Jungkook had also been bringing different brands of chocolate milk and you’d overheard him describe the taste and texture like a 4 year old would understand, and Jungwon had been asking you to buy each brand that Jungkook had introduced.

You'd heard him ask your son about his favorite animals, what he likes to eat when he’s sad or happy, and what his favorite bedtime stories are. You’d felt your heart balloon in size at this, how careful and thoughtful Jungkook still is, how gentle and caring, and how careful, seeing as he stops himself from ruffling Jungwon’s hair or engulfing him in a hug.

You felt like crying when you’d seen your son answer every question with enthusiasm then ask Jungkook the same things, too, and even more when he finishes coloring and tugs Jungkook to ask if he likes it.

It’s those moments that break and hold you up at the same time. It hurts to be reminded of what you deprived them of but it’s also comforting to see how natural everything has been for them.

Jungwon is shy but gravitates towards those he connects with, that he feels comfortable around, people who are like him. It’s why he’s very fond of Taehyung, and why he runs to Namjoon to be carried on his shoulder or to be tossed in the air because your brother may be serious yet clumsy but he’s careful and gentle when it comes to your son.

You used to think that if you hadn’t been a single parent, Jungwon wouldn’t be as close to you, seeing your lack of gentleness. You’d only learned to be so because you’d treated him like a fragile being, out of the fear of what would’ve happened if the fetal distress wasn’t detected as early as it was. If anything, your son has taught you to be more tender, affectionate, more loving.

You cried so many nights in the room you shared with him, and you wanted to believe that his lack of crying as an infant was because he was giving you the time and space for it, that it was okay. He was quiet, barely caused trouble, and you also believed it was his way of telling you that you can depend on him not to make things too hard, too. You’d held him so tightly every night as he grew older, and he learned to do the same.

In the moments that he'd caught you breaking down because of work or other things, he’d climb on your lap and hug and kiss you until you stopped crying. Like that one time when you randomly went on social media and saw the engagement rumors between Jungkook and Korean-American model-actress Maia Park. It was two years ago. It’s what also convinced you to finally, finally let Jungkook go and move on.

Jungwon hugged you until he fell asleep, and you hugged him even tighter, as the hope of you three being a complete family died that day. Since then, you’d stopped checking social media and stopped religiously following the Dodgers’ games, only using them as background noise since Jungwon somehow found throwing and hitting balls amusing. Like father, like son, you used to think.

You don’t realize you’d reminisced again until your phone beeps, the same time as Jungkook’s does. You’ve been in this restaurant for over 15 minutes and your friends are never late.

“Jimin says that he was asked to stay for costume fitting,” Jungkook says, reading the text message.

“Taehyung says that he tripped on a block and ended up splashing the entire paint can he was holding on his wall and it looks like the shape of a pretty tree and now he’s filled with inspiration and wants to repaint it,” you say in one breath, causing Jungkook to laugh at your deep exhale after.

“Hmm, very original,” he says.

“Very Taehyung, you mean. At least Jimin’s excuse is more believable,” you answer back.

“Well, they pulled the stops tonight, didn’t they? Reminds me of that time when Yoongi treated all of us because his song topped the charts. He said that he actually just had a minimal role and that wasn’t a cause for a celebration,” Jungkook shrugs. “You’d been mad at me for days and I kept complaining so they admitted setting it up so we could see each other.”

“Are you serious? All this time? I was so proud of Yoongi for that, kept bragging to my friends that he was big time because of that song,” you laugh, willing your heart to not go overboard with its beating because the most that Jungkook has spoken to you when he wasn’t angry, it’s to recall a memory of you together.

“Well, they tricked us then but they’re very transparent right now.”

You laugh again and you pinch yourself for overreacting to not-so-funny statements. You hate that even after all this time, Jungkook still makes you feel giddy. Now, there’s just an added desire for him to pay attention, for you to impress him, a complete opposite of how you started years ago.

It’s silent for a while, and you and Jungkook turn to Jungwon at the same time, probably thinking the same thing that the kid will be your distraction but his eyes have been focused on the butterfly, and he’s not budging. Not even when you ask how he’s doing because he just replies with a hum and you know that’s code for don’t disturb me, I’m busy.

“We should order,” Jungkook finally says, and it takes another couple of minutes before you both decide on what you’ll have.

With no other source of distraction, Jungkook settles on making the first move.

“So… how are things? How’s work?” He asks, sipping on his glass of water like it’s the tastiest thing in the world.

“Good. I, uhm, work for an events management company so we do parties, fundraisers, bazaars, things like that. It’s a lot of work but my boss is very kind and lets me take some days off to compensate for working on weekends and stuff,” you respond, willing yourself to be more comfortable.

“Oh, so it’s not the marketing firm anymore, that’s great. Namjoon said you worked over 12 hours then and I can’t imagine how tiring that must be.”

“You talked to my brother… about me?” You ask, trying not to read into it much. You assumed they only talked about meeting Jungwon, but Namjoon never mentioned anything more and you wonder why.

“Yeah, I just, uh…” Jungkook stammers, trying to come up with an excuse but he knows you’ll see right through him.

“I just asked how things were for you during uh, the pregnancy, and after.”

“Why?”

“I just wanted to know if there were any issues with Jungwon’s birth, you know? Wanted to know if he got everything he needed…”

You wince at the insinuation that you wouldn’t make sure that Jungwon would get everything he needed and Jungkook picks up on this and tries to save himself before it’s too late, before you think he’s an asshole for making such an assumption.

“I mean, of course he did. Not that I don’t think you didn’t make sure he got the best of everything.”

“I tried my best, Jungkook, and you’ve spent time with Jungwon. He’s doing well, I’d like to think that has much to do with how I raised him,” you say, your tone a mix of sadness and anger. You never had to defend yourself for how you raised your child, especially not to his father. But you also can’t blame Jungkook, especially when you’re the one who didn’t make him a part of your son’s life.

“I know, he’s such a smart and kind child. I didn’t mean to imply that you didn’t do your best. That came out wrong, I’m sorry,” he says, and you believe him. “I guess I just wanted to ask if there was anything lacking or that needed extra attention so I’d know what to compensate for, like medical bills or vitamins or other things?”

He’s right, and it makes sense. It definitely has nothing to do with him asking how you were doing, how the pregnancy and the aftermath was like for you.

“What about school? Other activities like sports or art clubs? Maybe he’s into music, we can enroll him in—”

“Jungkook…”

“Please don’t tell me not to help financially because you know I will. Not just because I’m obligated to but because I want to,” he sighs.

“Yeah, I guess we need to talk about that…” You say nervously.

“I can cover everything he needs. Does he need to switch to a better school? He’ll be in primary school next year, right? Are there other toys he wants? Maybe I can—“

“I’m doing perfectly fine in providing those, Jungkook. He doesn’t need ‘more’ or ‘better.’”

“I’m not saying you aren’t, I’m just saying I can help so that…”

He holds your gaze, knowing he can’t make you feel like he’s antagonizing you. When he asked Namjoon what you went through, he admits he wanted to feel some form of pity, as if to mask or replace the overwhelming feeling of pain and anger. Anything would’ve been better than those.

After that, the feeling turned to sadness, to helplessness, like defeat, knowing there was nothing he could’ve done to make it easier for you, to make you understand that you didn’t have to do it all by yourself just because you made a decision all on your own.

Having spent even just a short amount of time with Jungwon, he knows that his son was very much loved, was given all the best things in the world and that’s because of you - you who refused to give him less, you who worked so hard and gave everything you could, running on the sheer amount of love you have for your child even if things were difficult. Jungkook doesn’t want you to feel alone, especially in providing for Jungwon.

What Namjoon said hit him, how you only ever asked help if it was about your son, but never when it was about you. Jungkook knows you still wouldn’t, so he’ll make sure to ease the financial burden, the worry, the stress, the amount of time you spend taking care of your child that’s taken away from the time you spend taking care of yourself.

Because he’s noticed - he’s noticed the bags under your eyes, the slight shaking of your hands that’s probably from the excessive amount of caffeine intake, your work phone that constantly buzzes even when you’re off the clock, your consumption of sodas that signifies your heightened stress.

There’s a droopiness to your face, a mark of tiredness that’s laid permanent residence in your whole being. He doesn’t even wanna ask when the last time you had proper rest was.

“I’m saying I can and want to help so you can have time for yourself, too,” he continues. “So you won’t feel the need to clock in extra hours or take extra jobs, so you can have actual time of not worrying about anything. I mean, kids can sense if their parents are stressed and they can acquire that...”

Your eyes widen at his statement again, causing him to pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration because he’s really not saying this the way he wants to, but then he also doesn’t know how to tell you these things without him sounding like he believes you’re not good enough for Jungwon. Because you are, more than he can imagine.

“I’m terrible at this,” Jungkook says.

But you laugh. You laugh because he looks stressed and worried over what he’s telling you but you get him. Mad as he was a few weeks ago, you know he’d never harbor such terrible feelings towards you to the point of doubting your capabilities as a mother.

You wish he means more, though, but you settle for this. He will help in all ways he can because he doesn’t want you to be too stressed out. Jungwon is at the age where he can pick these things up; your habits are things he can acquire and you don’t want that.

“It’s okay, I understand,” you smile, and it’s the softest one you’ve given Jungkook since he’s arrived.

“Jungwon will be starting primary school next year so there’s this kindergarten I saw; they balance the learning with the arts really well and they do a lot of field trips and I think it’s a good transition to first grade.”

“That sounds really good. So that’s where you plan to enroll him this fall?”

“Yeah. It’s private though, and it’s affiliated with the primary school I was hoping to enroll him in next year, that’s also private. I was gonna get a loan from the bank and—”

“I’ll take care of it, don’t worry. I can take care of his fees in kindergarten and daycare too, if you don’t mind.”

“That’s too much, Jungkook.”

“It’s not. You’ve worked too hard the past 5 years. You can take care of the other essentials because you know him best. Let me take care of the others, and vitamins too and check ups and stuff. Please.”

He’s insistent and you know he won’t budge. You also know it’s his right and obligation to do all this.

“Okay, then. Whatever I save can go to his college fund.”

“Which I’ll also be contributing to…”

“Yes, that’s correct,” you smile.

The food arrives and the silence isn’t as suffocating. It’s a first step, deciding on the financial aspect of raising your child. You know there are many others, but there’s definitely one very important one to discuss.

Jungkook clears his throat and peeks at Jungwon who’s busy with his stew, mindless of the others around him, with you constantly wiping his cheeks and reminding him to drink his water. You turn to Jungkook with a curious gaze.

“When can we uh, tell him about me?”

Of course. When will you tell your son that Cookie Monster is actually his father?

“Oh, uhm. Well. He’s definitely comfortable around you already. But I think it’ll take some more time. I don’t wanna rush him because it’s big news since it’s just been me and his uncle Taehyung and uncle Namjoon for a long time and…”

“No one else?”

“What do you mean, no one else? I mean of course there’s Jimin but they don’t see each other as much and…”

“You know what I mean,” he says softly, as if he doesn’t want to directly say it.

“Oh. Uhm. Well, I dated someone before but like, it wasn’t—“

“Did he want to be Jungwon’s father? Did Jungwon like him?”

“I don’t introduce men I go out with to Jungwon, Jungkook. I mean, the men know I have a son but I never introduce them.”

“Why not?”

“Why do you need to ask? It’s only you. It’s always just gonna be you.”

“Has he asked about… me?”

“Just twice. He’s curious but he doesn’t dwell on it.”

Jungkook just nods, taking everything in.

“I always planned on telling you, Jungkook. I hope you know that. I just needed the right time, and I had to figure it out especially after your en…” You pause, hoping not to open this can of worms because things are already going well.

“My what?”

“Your supposed engagement with…”

“Those were rumors, ___. We were never engaged, never planned on it,” he corrects.

“So you two aren’t…?”

“We broke up over a year ago.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding in.

“Relieved?” He smirks.

“Just thought that, you know, Jungwon will have another mother and he’ll call her like, Mommy or Mother or something and she might be more fun and gorgeous and—“

“Hey,” Jungkook interrupts your rambling. He chooses not to comment on your now glassy eyes, which stare at his hand that’s found itself on top of yours. He immediately removes it and calls for you to look at him.

“That’s not happening, okay? And if I did marry someone else, that woman will just be a stepmother by name. You’re Jungwon’s mother, the only one. No one will be more fun and gorgeous in his eyes, you got that?”

“Yeah,” you mumble. “Thank you.”

You decide to dial it back before your thoughts go elsewhere. “But going back to your question, let’s play it by ear, is that okay? He’s very attentive so he’ll maybe ask more about you one day. I also don’t want to rush him.”

“Sure, I mean. I don’t wanna scare him away too. We’ve been making progress.”

“I know! He’s very natural around you.”

“Doesn’t mind me when he’s coloring or eating, though,” Jungkook pouts.

“You’re not alone in that,” you laugh. “This one time, he was coloring this picture of a unicorn and I was trying to get his attention because it had been a long day and I wanted a hug and he shushed me and told me to be quiet. Like, this little kid really shushed me, huh?”

“Is he really as sweet as we believe him to be?” Jungkook laughs.

“Actually, when he was finished, he went to my lap and hugged and kissed me, told me not to be sad anymore.”

“Okay I’ll never doubt him again,” he smiles.

“And then there was one time, I baked muffins and I asked him to try so he was nibbling the edges, then the crown. And he was taking his time! And I kept asking if it was good and he was just humming until there was just the center left that had some chocolate custard and he ate it in one bite and was just smiling at me then…”

You pause at Jungkook’s longing smile, the kind where he’s happy but also wishes he’d been there.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t…”

“No, no. Please. I wanna hear these stories. Don’t hold back. Don’t mind how I react,” Jungkook explains. “At least I won’t have to imagine how he was like growing up.”

Your heart warms at this, at the shift from the angry man the other week to one who’s now softening at the stories of your son, something that’s making you feel a hundred times better.

Jungkook meant it when he said that he just wants to focus on what happens next. He’s spent so many sleepless nights thinking about the night of the break up, what went wrong, how different things would be, all the what if’s in your relationship, and in his relationship with his son.

He has let himself feel all the negative emotions towards you and he didn’t like it, didn’t like that he could feel all that for the woman who’d been his world, his light, the love of his life. He doesn’t want to focus anymore on the time lost but on the time he can make up for, for the time that he now has.

You indulge him, tell him stories about Jungwon, how he was a little late with talking and used to write letters from right to left, how you worried about this but how it was easily addressed, being that Ara is a developmental pediatrician and had taught you different practices to ensure his speech and cognitive skills are in tune with his developmental stage.

You talk about his first steps, his first trip to the park, and how he’s afraid of the water - just like his mother, Jungkook says. You talk about how he likes fish so much so he doesn’t eat them, but that he loves vegetables and would only throw tantrums if he doesn’t get to eat sweets.

And you talk about how respectful he is, charming in his own shy and soft ways but a fighter all the same, how he’s very smart and can do many things on his own.

“He really took the best parts of us, don’t you think?” Jungkook says, as he looks at Jungwon who’s coloring a ladybug this time. “Strong and independent like you, charming and cute like me?”

You burst into laughter. “You think those are your best qualities?” You ask.

“I mean there’s more and I could definitely list them all now but also, look at him! He’s so adorable, and he got that from me!”

“He is, and he did get that from you, I won’t lie,” you say, something that you always thought about, how the universe was cruel and wonderful at the same time for gifting you a child who looks just like the man you loved with all your heart, who reminded you everyday of what you lost and of, ironically, what you still had.

“He has your lips, though, and those scrunched eyebrows when he’s focused,” he points out, and he says it with so much affection. “I’m sure there’s more he got from you and I can't wait to discover them all.”

“Me, too, Jungkook. Me too,” you say, ignoring the thrumming of your heart.

It’s Jungwon’s yawn that forces you and Jungkook out of your bubble again, not realizing the time that’s passed. You’re glad you had an early clock out today so at least it’s not yet too late and the little one can make it to bed on time.

The dinner ends and Jungkook walks you and a sleepy Jungwon to your car, the silence a welcome one this time.

“So, I have a busy rest of the week so uhm, can we meet on Saturday? There’s a park with this cool playground near my apartment; I think Jungwon will like it there. We can have lunch after,” Jungkook says as you close the backseat door.

“Of course! Just text me the address and the time and we’ll be there,” you respond, liking this new dynamic between the both of you, texting each other on when and where to meet, freed up schedules and all.

You both stand there awkwardly though, unsure how exactly to end the night, given that your friends had ditched you both. Your phones beeping saves you this time.

“How was it?” You and Jungkook say at the same time.

“They’re not even being subtle about it,” he laughs.

“I bet they’re actually together right now, thinking of the best time to message,” you say.

“Probably not expecting we’d go on this long, too,” he mumbles, peering up to look at you with that shy smile of his, and you hope there’s no physical manifestation of how flushed you are right now.

“It was a good night. Thank you, Jungkook.”

“Thanks, too. So, uh, I’ll go ahead,” he says, then nods and turns away. It was a good night, and it was the first time that he felt comfortable, light. Like things were okay, like things are really going to get better.

His mind goes back to weeks ago at your apartment - how he acted, the anger seeping through him, and how you looked - tears falling helplessly down your cheeks, a sight he’s never seen before, and one he doesn’t want to see again. He couldn’t hold you then, he didn’t have the mind nor the heart to. He’s not sure if he’s ready now, so he settles with words instead.

“___,” he calls out.

You turn around, not really expecting anything else, and for a moment, your heart stops beating.

He walks towards you with a shy look on his face, although his eyes avoid yours.

“I just, uh. I just wanted to apologize for that day at your apartment when I—“

“Jungkook, you don’t have to—“

“Just let me, please,” he interjects you this time, his voice soft, and a long breath escapes him. “I’m sorry.”

“I won’t accept it. You shouldn’t be sorry for the things you said because they’re what you felt. They’re warranted and—“

“Then I’m sorry for how I said them. That’s, that’s not who I am. You didn’t deserve that,” he stammers.

“I did,” you respond, and there’s a pang in his chest at your resigned tone. “And it’s okay. I would’ve reacted the same way.”

“I know I’ll never truly understand why, but it doesn’t mean that I don’t appreciate everything you’ve done for him.”

“He might’ve been unplanned but it doesn’t mean he’s a mistake. He’s the best thing that ever happened to me,” you say, meeting his eyes.

It’s a moment you share that needs no words, and Jungkook nods and leaves it at that because deep in his heart, he knows that Jungwon is the best thing that’s ever happened to him, too.

“Text me when you get home, okay?” He says.

You mumble an okay and head out, forcing yourself to stop smiling like an idiot the whole drive back home.

[To: Jungkook] We’re home. Thank you again.

[From: Jungkook] Alright! I had a really good time tonight. Sleep well, you two. Good night :)

And with that, you don’t stop smiling like an idiot until you fall asleep.

You trip over trains and dolls on the floor, hastily putting them in the box that houses most of Jungwon’s toys. You place all the laundry in the washing machine, quickly fix your bed, and remove the clutter on the coffee table.

By some not-so-great turn of events, you had a client schedule a 2PM meeting on a Saturday that you couldn’t turn down, which meant that you then had to meet your team at 11AM to prepare.

You’re glad that Jungkook didn’t make a fuss about it when you called him in the morning, saying that you can’t make it to the park like you agreed to do. You trust him dearly but it’s still too early in the getting-to-know-you stage, so you’re not sure how Jungwon will take it if he spends the day with Jungkook without you. You expected him to reschedule but said his Sunday is full and asked if he could just go to your place instead.

“He and I can just play or watch cartoons, is that okay? I was really hoping to spend today with him but if it’s too much, that’s fine,” Jungkook said over the phone.

You didn’t have the heart to turn him down so you agreed.

You tried to do whatever cleaning up you can manage because you didn’t want him to judge you for still being a little messy and you wanted everything organized while you focused on your meetings.

With Jungwon bathed and with snacks placed on the table, you think you’re ready for your guest, who should be arriving right about now.

The doorbell rings and it’s a familiar sight, but a welcome one. You lead Jungkook in, tell him it’s just a humble one-bedroom apartment and he waves you off. He settles the lunch he bought on the table - noodles and seafood pancakes, Jungwon’s favorites, you'd mentioned.

“He’s in the room, I’ll go get him,” you say, and walk the several steps to your bedroom.

Jungkook looks around and takes it in. He was too angry the last time he was here so he didn’t pay much attention. It’s pretty clean, he thinks, and laughs at the thought that you probably did a quick clean up before he arrived since you’re not usually this organized. Or maybe that’s changed with you too, as with other things.

“Hey, buddy,” Jungkook greets. He kneels and tells Jungwon that they’ll be spending time today while Mama works and Jungwon says he’s excited. He leads Jungkook to your not-so-grand living room and takes out some dinosaurs from one box, mumbling about them being in trouble, then opens another one.

“Then Ironman saves them all!” Jungwon announces.

The look on Jungkook’s face is unrivaled, the kind you secretly have been hoping for, hence why you deliberately kept this from him; you wanted Jungwon to be the one to reveal his undying love for the superhero. You’re surprised he’s never mentioned it before, but you also think that he wanted to show-off his toy collection first.

“You’ve been holding out on me!” Jungkook tells you. “He… We… We both believe in Ironman supremacy, ___. He’s really my—”

You nudge his shoulder before he prematurely reveals the truth, and you laugh at his expression and his wide eyes as he goes through the Ironman box because of course it has its own, as all the toys are delicately placed inside.

Jungkook is in awe but really, it’s not much. They’re all just different versions of the same dolls and cars. You’ve tried to limit this because Jungwon will outgrow them at one point, but thinking about Jungkook’s continued love for the superhero, you think Jungwon actually might not.

The two get in their groove immediately and sit side-by-side, Jungwon introducing each of his toys because each Ironman has a different name. Jungkook indulges him and starts making sounds and Jungwon joins him until it’s just a chorus of pppshssss and bangbangbang and pfffffftpboom and you can’t help but laugh along.

Taehyung always deemed those superhero movies to be too loud so he wasn’t into the toys either, and Namjoon would always end up explaining the science and ethics of superpowers as if his nephew is one of his college students, so for Jungwon to have someone who just gets him, even if it’s just about making sounds and making Ironman toys fly and protect the dinosaurs from a meteor, you’re happy that the little one is happy.

You leave them for a while and set the table, asking them over to eat with neither one standing up.

“Kids,” you call their attention, hands on your waist now. “Can we have lunch now please before Mama has to get ready for work?”

This feels so domestic and so real. You miss the way Jungkook’s lips form into a smile as you refer to yourself in third person and sound as if you’re reprimanding them. Since Jungkook has found out about Jungwon, he never imagined he’d actually get to experience this.

You clear your throat and it’s a sign for Jungkook that he has to follow, as the adult, so he gets the little one’s attention and brings all the toys on the table to join you three as you eat.

It’s hilarious as they both converse with their toys and essentially leave you out but you let them, choosing instead to bask in this scene and the joy painted on both their faces. You wish this moment together wouldn’t end, though, but you also know that may be too much to ask. Jungkook is here to get to know your son, and that’s that.

You let them settle in the living room as you go from one meeting to another, stealing glances every once in a while just so you’ll have another memory of them bonding seared in your brain, for times when you need to feel better, when you want to feel happy.

The rest of the afternoon goes that way. They go from saving the dinosaurs, to watching cartoons, then playing with blocks, earning them scowls and laughter every time those tip over and crash, creating loud sounds and distracting your work. But you smile immediately at their panicked and guilty faces, until they proceed to do the same thing.

It’s around 5PM when you finish, exhaustion creeping up on you. Jungwon surprisingly still has energy, but you see him forcing it because he wants to keep playing.

“Let’s go for an early dinner, yeah? I can order some pizza then you two can start preparing for bed,” Jungkook offers.

You mindlessly nod from the dining table as you put away your laptop and notebook. “That sounds good, Jungkook. Thank you,” you respond.

“And maybe you can take a nap first while we wait. I’ll help him clean up the mess, too.”

You smile at this. Despite everything, he’s still the same thoughtful and considerate man you met all those years ago. You nod and head to them, kneeling in front of Jungwon who’s now sitting so closely to Jungkook.

“Hey, sweetcheeks. Mama’s tired so I’ll just get some rest, okay? You’ll be fine with Cookie Monster over here?” You ask.

“Yes, Mama,” he says, and proceeds to hug you and kiss your nose.

“Okay, love you my little bug,” you say, and head to your room for a quick nap, not before you call out that Jungwon only eats cheese pizza.

It’s the knock on your bedroom door that wakes you, signaling that the food has arrived.

You head to the dining room, still clad in your leggings and pink sweatshirt, and Jungkook does a double take at your sleepy eyes, scrunched up nose, and messy hair. You’re still so adorable after a nap, but he shakes off the thought before you catch him with a silly smile on his face.

It’s Jungwon’s elephant and tiger stuffed toys having dinner with you this time, and unlike earlier in the day, there’s less theatrics and you all settle on small conversations, definitely tired but satisfied.

Jungwon is busy munching on the cheese and the soft parts of the dough, Jungkook is watching him in amusement, and you’re watching Jungkook in awe, thinking of how he pulled through today, coming over to make sure that he got to spend it with his son, taking care of everything like the food and cleaning up because you were too busy and too tired to do so, even if you know he’s had a tiring week too.

You never doubted his desire to get to know Jungwon but his patience and attention to everything have really surprised you. He listens carefully to the little one, asks what he thinks and feels, lets him lead and decide games and shows to watch, and talks to him like an adult. You wonder if he’d asked Taehyung or Namjoon for tips or he’d done some reading. But regardless, you appreciate it so much. You might not have had the start you wanted but it’s definitely going the way you want it to.

And as Jungkook giggles and wipes the cheese off Jungwon’s face, as he fills his glass with water and asks if he wants more, you see the affection on Jungkook’s whole being, you see the care and the warmth. You see the love.

It’s familiar; it’s similar to how he used to look at you. And it’s this moment that you wish that he learns to look at you that way again.

Series Masterlist || Previous || Next

- Taglist: @fluffyjoons @jwlmnbt @koremis @mrcleanheichou @kooafraid @purplepommy @btstannies @jeonwiixard @songshin @joondala @hobiade @di0rgguk @fan-atic-blog–c @yn-the-reader @spicybangtanwings @njkbangtan @jeoncookie-bts @miniaturecloud @revehosh @preciouschimine @sherlynxx @dimreads @mwitsmejk @craftymoonchaos @queenmasterxx @ungodlyjoon @kookiesbaby02 @yiyi4657 @crewzie-chan @wearenot7withu @evafrechette @gamerkooks @iwanttohitmyself @sugaslittlekookies @kmadelin @mal99 @daobofs @petuliii @purplepebbles @she-is-dreaming @jungkooksseuphoria @seventeenis-thedream @namucries @ellesalazar @imluckybitches @tinyhoagiepartylover @busansonenonly

#jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #jungkook fanfiction #parents au #exes au #baseball player jk #inevitable #series

2K notes · View notes

nsheetee · 3 years

Text

109 Steps To You

this is a part of the “almost” collaboration hosted by @hyucksie

Pairing: Haechan x Reader Genre: romance, fluff, angst, mature content, soulmate!AU, college!AU Length: 19k Summary: Everyone is born with two marks on their body: one that is identical to your soulmate’s, and one that is identical to the person who will cause you immense pain. No one knows which mark means what until they live out their life and meet the people destined to bring them love and hurt. However, you were only born with one mark. Out of all the places you thought you would meet the person with the mark identical to yours, you never thought it would be on your first day of college. Warnings/Details: female reader, mentions of other nct members (and yuqi from g-idle), explicit sex (unprotected + the consequences that come with it), mentions of a dysfunctional family, swearing

— read epilogue here

a/n: if you’re a minor: beware! there is explicit and mature content in this fic.

“I want to thank you guys, again, for helping me out today.” You shyly announce to the table, swirling your spoon through your froyo and glancing back and forth between the other people sitting before you.

“Oh, it’s no problem, we weren’t doing anything today anyway.” Xiaojun softly knocks his elbow into yours, sending a reassuring smile your way. If it wasn’t for Xiaojun, an old childhood friend, you weren’t sure how moving into your dorm room and getting settled into campus would’ve gone; you would probably still be a mess right now.

“He’s right. Plus, I really wanted to meet the girl Jun kept raving about, he wouldn’t stop talking about how much we would like you-” Mark’s comment is quickly cut off, a thud under the table and a pained look on Mark’s face giving away that Xiaojun just kicked him.

“I just hope I lived up to the hype.” You laugh at their antics.

“Oh, definitely,” Yuqi quickly buts in before Mark can retaliate back at Xiaojun, “And I live a few floors below you, so just let me know if you need anything at all.” She adds on, her warm deposition and all around friendliness from today making you let out a small sigh of relief, some stress falling off your shoulders when you realize just how many people around you are here to help you out.

“I appreciate it so much, really.” You lean away from Xiaojun and Mark, closer to Yuqi and Lucas who are sitting on the other side of the table, “By the way, I love your guys’ marks. They look so good on both of you.”

At your comment, Lucas puts down his phone and gently grabs Yuqi’s hand, their matching chamomile flower marks touching as their fingers intertwine. You almost didn’t notice their matching marks earlier today when they were helping you set up your dorm room, but when you did, you couldn’t help but stop what you were doing and stare at their hands. Such a simple mark has never looked so pretty to you, maybe it’s because Lucas and Yuqi made such a good pair that their fated marks looked so right for them.

“I still wish I got a cool dragon mark down my back, but I’ll let Jun be the one to deal with that in this life.” Lucas smirks at Xiaojun, who just rolls his eyes at Lucas’ fake jealousy. “Yours looks good, too.” He finishes and glances down at your left hand. There, a dragonfly mark stains your skin, the long tail trailing over your thumb and the wings spreading out over the back of your hand and your wrist.

“Thank you.” Your reply is genuine, however you can’t help but remember the solemn fact that surrounds your mark, your voice inadvertently dipping down as your eyes trace over the wings of your dragonfly.

“So, what kind of classes are you taking this semester?” Xiaojun changes the subject, no doubt hearing the lament in your voice.

“Oh, just some required classes. Nothing for my major, really, except Intro to Ethics for my humanities credit.” You reply as casually as you can to bring the mood at the table back up, but your comment makes Yuqi gasp and all four pairs of eyes at the table turn to you. You slouch in your seat at their sudden attention on you.

“Why would you do that to yourself?”

“What is wrong with you?”

“Do you know your advisor's email? Let’s send them a message right now to get you out-”

“Stop.” You shake your head, laughing a bit at the overreaction from your new friends, “What’s wrong with Ethics?”

“It’s in the Hauss building.” Xiaojun says as if you should already know what that means. You roll your lips in and shake your head; you do not know what that means at all.

“It’s the building all the way on top of the big hill on the west side of campus, by the auditorium.” Xiaojun explains more.

“They only teach three classes over there: Ethics and Music Theory 3 and 4.” Mark sets down his melted froyo, not realizing he has some sticking to his upper lip.

“I’m failing to see what’s so horrible about that?”

“When Xiaojun says it’s a big hill, he means it’s a really big hill-”

“Didn’t someone count the steps once and it came out to be, like, close to 100?” Lucas asks, one hand still tangled with Yuqi’s and the other now rapidly slurping his triple chocolate froyo.

“That was me, and it’s 109 steps.” Mark shutters, “I took Music Theory 3 last year and I ended up skipping half of the time because I couldn’t find the energy to climb up and down those steps three times a week.”

“Why 109? Aren’t groups of steps usually in even numbers? That’s not very architecturally smart.” Yuqi purses her lips and her eyebrows screw together.

“Screw architecture. Are you telling me I’ll have to climb up and down 109 stairs three times a week just to go to Ethics?” You can already feel a headache growing at the back of your head when you think about the complications of dealing with this big staircase. You needed that class for your major, and you thought it was going to be a class that you could pass with flying colors, but it seems like it might just be a nuisance to you more than an easy A.

“Talk to your advisor. Try to drop out and take a different class. Trust me, 109 steps don’t seem like much until you actually have to climb them.” Mark gives you his piece of advice, sticking his spoon filled with froyo into his mouth and then immediately scrunching his eyes and mumbling about brain freeze.

You’ll have to send an e-mail to your advisor real quick, but for your first day of classes tomorrow, you’ll just have to deal with those 109 steps.

The walk to your ethics class the next morning is very calming, the university’s nice landscaping and the warm weather calming your nerves down for your first day of classes. When you round the corner of the stonewall you had been following, you’re met with the infamous set of steps.

You have to crane your neck to look up at the top of the staircase, your jaw slightly dropping at how steep of a hill the stairs were built on. There are other students around you walking up and down the staircase, their headphones shoved in their ears and their heads down as they make the climb to and from class.

The stonewall you had been following all the way here continues up the staircase on your right and on the left is a thick wall of trees, their branches hanging over the stairs and giving protection from the sunlight to the students below. You begin to count every step on your way up; four regular steps, the fifth one a bit longer than the rest, and then repeat. It’s not that you don’t trust Mark’s words when he said there’s 109 steps, you just want to count for yourself.

You hear some rowdy boys coming down the stairs, but the noise is not enough to pull your head up from the ground or to stop you from counting, until you’re forcefully pushed into the stone wall on your right. Breathing in through your teeth sharply, your left hand clutches your collarbones where the pain is the worst.

“Oh, my god. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to push you.” The guy laughs through his words, a high-pitched and almost squeaky laugh, making him sound not as sincere as he probably meant to be. When you turn to face him, the first thing you notice are his eyes. Chocolate colored and almond shaped, some laugh lines showing from the remnants of his shenanigans with his friends.

Looking back, you realize you fell in love with his eyes first. How they don’t hold back from showing any emotion, and the mischievousness they hold no matter what.

Even when his smile falls, his face looks pretty; long hair hanging down over his forehead and ears, and plump lips spreading into an ‘o’ shape as he looks at your dragonfly. Every line and detail is just the same as his own, as if fate spent a little more time with you two to make sure you know you’re each other’s soulmate the moment you meet.

“Your mark…” The man points at your hand, and that’s when you realize who you’ve just met. His brilliant eyes fill with excitement and he starts to breath harder, taking a step back from sheer surprise that you’re here. His soulmate. His one and only for the rest of this life.

However it all fades away the moment you drop your hand from your collarbones, stepping past him to continue up the staircase.

“Next time, watch where you’re going.” The first words you ever say to him are filled with so much indifference that Haechan can only follow your back with his eyes, his jaw slack and his hand still reaching out for you.

“Hey, wait-” Haechan is about to run after you, but he’s held back by Renjun, his best friend and the one who pushed Haechan into you in the first place.

“Was that-” Renjun begins, holding onto his friend’s elbow as he also watches you walk up the rest of the 109 steps.

“Yeah… Why did she ignore me like that? She saw that I have the same mark. We’re soulmates!” Haechan almost cries out in confusion, his heart and mind in a mess. Can you blame him? He’s been waiting to meet his soulmate since he knew what the dragonfly on his hand meant. Haechan has never been a patient person, and even waiting several years for you to come to him was testing him. Now that you’re here, he isn’t going to let you go easily.

As Haechan begins to walk back up the staircase to follow you, not caring about his Literature class in 15 minutes, Renjun’s grip on him tightens and pulls him back.

“You can’t just go harass her about this.”

“I’m not going to harass her. I just want to talk.” Haechan tries to pull out of Renjun’s grip again, but the little man has the sturdiness of a boulder and pulls his friend back.

“Maybe she doesn’t want a soulmate?” Renjun and Haechan stop their tug of war at Jaemin’s words. He had been leaning against the handrail by the trees the whole time while watching the scene unfold in front of him, his arms crossed over his chest and his baseball cap covering his eyes. “It’s not that uncommon these days.”

Haechan and Renjun let go of each other at their friend’s words. Jaemin sends them a bitter smile and all three of them recall the incident that happened last year when Jaemin met his own soulmate:

A rejection.

Jaemin took it hard; if it hadn’t been for his best friends, he doesn’t know where he would be in life right now. Jaemin can’t help but let the memories surface as he continues to walk down the stairs, slower than before, his head bowed and his hands shoved into his pant pockets. Renjun sends Haechan a look that tells him to not push the situation further, following Jaemin down the stairs.

Haechan sends your retreating figure one last look, watching you reach the top of the staircase and walk into the Hauss building. He retreats and follows his friends dejectedly, the promise of you showing up on this staircase at the same time on Wednesday being the only thing that lets his legs follow his friends down the stairs.

“Hey, ___, come in.” Mark smiles brightly when he recognizes you at the door, stepping aside to let you into the dorm room. “Xiaojun is in the shower still… Will you be okay by yourself if I leave?” He looks unsure as you set your backpack down on Xiaojun’s desk chair.

“Oh, I’ll be fine. You do whatever you need to.” You state and then plop down onto your friend’s bed. You hear Mark laugh and say something about how all the first years look tired at the end of their first day and then leaves the room, shutting the door behind him. You lay sprawled out on the bed, the only sounds surrounding you is the water from the shower and the ticking of the analog clock on the wall.

Even though the whole ordeal happened several hours ago, you haven’t been able to get the moment you met your soulmate out of your mind. It was almost impossible for you to turn around and walk away. Even now, your feet still itch to go back to that staircase and find the sweet looking guy who you no doubt left confused.

However, you can’t do that— you won’t let yourself do that. And that’s partially why you’re in Xiaojun’s dorm room after your last class today: so that he can knock some sense into you.

The shower turns off and a few moments later, the bathroom door opens and Xiaojun steps out. He has a towel wrapped around his waist and a smaller one on his shoulders to catch the droplets from his hair; when he sees you laying on his bed, he jumps in fright.

“Good, God,” He sighs and clutches his bare chest with one hand, the other protectively going to the towel around his waist. “Can you say something the next time you come over? I almost had a heart attack because of you.” He walks over to his closet on the other side of the room, rummaging through some clothes as you sit up.

“Sorry, I thought you heard the door open…” You trail off, getting distracted by Xiaojun’s mark. The dragon on his back is huge, taking up most of the area and spreading to his shoulders and upper arms, too. However, that’s not the mark that caught your attention. Right on his ankle sits a three-leaf clover, so small and such a stark difference from the monster drawn on his back.

You’re pulled away from your thoughts when Xiaojun turns around and walks back into the bathroom, this time leaving the door open, “So, how was your first day?”

“Oh, well, it was okay…” You trail off, speaking a bit louder so that he could hear you from the other room. You stand up and start pacing in the space between Mark’s and Xiaojun’s beds, a nervous habit of yours.

“But? I know there’s a ‘but’ somewhere.” Xiaojun replies.

“Well, something happened…” You trail off, not sure how to make the words leave your mouth yet.

“What is it?” You swallow at the question, your throat dry and hands clammy. You must’ve been taking a long time to answer because Xiaojun walks out of the bathroom, now fully clothed, and stares at your pacing form. “What’s wrong, ___.”

“I met him.” You say simply, hoping Xiaojun gets what you mean, but he doesn’t. You sigh and sink down to the floor slowly, catching yourself on Xiaojun’s bed. The action makes his eyes widen in fear and he crosses the room in a few short strides, kneeling down next to you and searching your eyes for the answer.

“What? What is it?”

“The person with the same mark as me. I met him.”

“... Oh.”

Xiaojun slowly slides down onto his butt in front of you, folding his legs. He’s not sure what to say, or how to comfort you in anyway. He didn’t expect to be the only person around that you trust when something like this happens. He sees the lost look in your eyes and slides towards you to pull you into a hug.

Unlike Xiaojun, and most people in the world, you do not have two marks.

Xiaojun’s dragon and clover match with two different people in this world; one who will be his soulmate and the other who will bring him immense pain. Everyone has two marks— except you; it even states it on your birth certificate, your parents can testify that they’ve never seen a second mark on you, just the lonely dragonfly that spreads its wings over your left hand.

When you were younger, you were curious about what it meant to only have one mark. The people around you always had two marks, the people on the TV shows you liked to watch always had two marks, even anatomy books have depictions of humans with two marks. Why were you different? What did it mean?

After gathering up the guts to type the question into the Google search engine, you found your answers, and it changed your thoughts on your one and only mark forever. The people in the world who only had one mark testified to the same story online: the person who’s mark matched theirs were both their soulmate and the person who hurt them the most.

After learning about that, you promised yourself that if you ever met the person with the same mark as you, you would not meddle with them in any way if they were only destined to bring you pain in the end.

If you knew jumping off a bridge would definitely kill you, you wouldn’t jump, right?

Xiaojun is the only person, other than your parents, who knows about the situation. Which is why when he hugs you, you lean into him and accept his comfort.

“Tell me what you’re thinking about. You must have so many questions.” He mumbles into your hair.

“Not questions. I’m just curious about what I am to him.” You reply, whispering into Xiaojun’s shoulder.

“About what you are to him?”

“I know he’ll be the person I’m meant to love the most, and also the person who will hurt me the most. But am I the one that’s supposed to love him or the one that’s supposed to hurt him?”

“Lots of people say that they can feel it when they meet. Like Lucas, he said he instantly knew Yuqi was supposed to be his soulmate.” Xiaojun thinks back to all the people who have told him the exact same thing, even his parents.

“The guy… he kept calling me his soulmate. He sounded so sure about it, too.” You lean away from Xiaojun to look into his big and curious eyes.

“What about you? What did you feel?” He asks.

“It felt… like I left a part of myself with him.” Xiaojun’s eyes widened at that, “Is that crazy? I was only around him for a minute, maybe less, and I can’t stop thinking about how I never wanted to leave. It was so hard to walk away from him..” You trail off, feeling tears suddenly gather at the edges of your eyes.

“Xiaojun…” The edge in your voice makes him grab a hold on your hands, “I don’t want him to hurt me. I’m not ready for it.”

“Hey, hey…” Xiaojun squeezes your hands before gently guiding your face to his, meeting his eyes with your own, “He’ll hurt you eventually, yeah, but he’ll also be the person who is supposed to love you unconditionally. The person who is going to know you so well, better than yourself. Maybe you should see where he takes you in life? Destiny still wanted you to meet each other no matter what the end game is going to be… Are you really going to tell fate to fuck off?”

“Can’t I?” Your response makes Xiaojun laugh, which he apologises for laughing in a serious situation right after, but the mood is already broken and you laugh at yourself a bit as well.

“C’mon, let’s order something to eat and get your mind off of this, even if it’s just for a few hours.” Xiaojun pulls you off of the floor and reaches for his phone, trying to find the phone number to his favorite delivery place.

You sit on his bed once again, your hands limp in your lap and so much appreciation for Xiaojun in your chest. You probably would’ve gone insane if he wasn’t here for you. His suggestion on giving the guy you met today a chance plays like a record in your head, but the record scratches when you remember the promise you made to yourself a long time ago.

Don’t mess with him. He will only bring you pain in the end.

On Wednesday, Haechan is the first one out of his seat in his Music Theory 3 class, not even waiting for the slow Renjun and even slower Jaemin before sprinting out of the classroom and outside, waiting at the top of the staircase for your figure to appear at the bottom.

Students float up and down the stairs, but he doesn’t see you anywhere amongst them. Eventually, Renjun and Jaemin catch up to him, standing behind him and also staring down the long staircase.

“C’mon, Haechan, we need to go to our next class.” Renjun is the first one to step down, followed by Jaemin. Haechan takes a good look at everyone’s faces on his way down, getting some weird looks sent his way for staring, but he doesn’t care.

“Haechan.” Jaemin suddenly calls out, making his friend turn suddenly to look at him. Jaemin only nods his head to the bottom of the stairs where you just turned the corner. Despite his hurry from before, Haechan stops at the sight of you. His usual confidence is lost when he sees you climb the stairs. Now, he’s not sure if he should approach you.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Renjun nudges Haechan, but the younger only turns around to look at his friend.

“I don’t know what to say to her. What do I say to make her see I’m her soulmate?” Haechan asks, helplessness seeping into his words.

Renjun rolls his eyes; whenever his best friend needs to be the usual confident man he is, that’s when the confidence is most likely to drain out of him. Renjun shakes Haechan’s shoulders with a tight grip on his jacket, making some more people send the two of them some weird looks.

“She’s your soulmate, right? Fate already gave you everything you need to know about how to talk to her.” Renjun then pushes his friend towards your direction, “But for the love of god, don’t harass her.” Renjun ends with a pointed look and continues walking with Jaemin down the stairs.

Haechan slowly makes his way to you, crossing over to the middle of the staircase and stopping you in your tracks. You look up to inspect who it is that just stopped in front of you, and your surprise fades when you realize it’s the same guy from Monday.

“Hi.” He says simply. You only nod your head, lips pursed, and then move around him to continue walking to class.

“Wait…” Haechan calls after you, but you don’t stop this time. So Haechan keeps walking after you, only one step behind, “I’m not sure if you’re aware, but you’re my soulmate. I’ve been waiting for you for so long—” You sharply turn to face him, making Haechan cut off and tilt his head up to look at you.

“How do you know I’m your soulmate? What if I’m not?” You ask. Haechan shakes his head softly at that, his golden hair moving over his sun-kissed skin as he does.

“That’s not possible.”

“How do you know?” You ask. Haechan loves how curiosity burns in your eyes. He takes longer than normal to speak only so that he can look over your features and memorize them to the best of his ability. Last night, he tried to recall your face but the image came out so blurry since he only saw you for a moment on Monday. He wants to clearly remember what you look like.

“How about I take you somewhere, and then I’ll tell you?” The proposition stuns you, and your burning curiosity makes you want to say yes. However, going anywhere with him would be breaking your promise to yourself, so you decide to forget it.

“Nevermind…” You mumble, turning around to walk up the stairs again.

“You seem like you really want to know how I’m sure we’re soulmates… Aren’t you curious?” Haechan asks, making you stop in your tracks again. This man has only known you for a day, only talked to you for a few moments, yet he already knows how to get you to do something. “I promise I won’t hurt you, and I’m not lying either.”

You take a moment to think about the proposition. You’re really curious about how he’s so sure that you’re soulmates. Sure, you know you’re soulmates, but why is he so sure you aren’t the person who’s supposed to hurt him? You consider taking up the offer, but can you stay strong to your own promise while being close to him?

Curiosity wins, and you turn back around to face him, nodding and making him smile widely. There’s that crinkle in his eyes again, that sparkle against the sun that makes saying yes to him so much more worth it.

“My friends call me Haechan, but you can call me Donghyuck. That’s my real name.” He sticks out his hand for you to shake. You once heard that physical touch brings soulmates together quicker; you’re not sure if that’s true, but you don’t want to test it.

“I’m ___.” You nod at him and grip onto your backpack straps instead of accepting his handshake.

“Haechan, hurry up or we’ll be late!” You both hear Renjun shout out from the bottom of the stairs, “And on our second day, too.” You hear him groan.

“Okay, ___, I’ll see you here at 7pm tomorrow night.” Haechan turns around to run back to his friends, sending you one last wave goodbye and almost tripping down the stairs as he does.

You take a deep breath and turn around to walk up the rest of the steps. You’re unsure if you did the right thing by agreeing to see him tomorrow night, but the deed is now done, and you can only wait for Donghyuck to quench your curiosity.

As promised, you meet Donghyuck at 7 o’clock sharp the next day. He’s already waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs.

“So, where are you taking me?” You ask after saying your hello’s.

“It’s a surprise.” He smiles and nods his head to make you follow him. He leads you through parts of campus you haven’t seen yet, the buildings looking older and older the further down the path you walk. Soon, Donghyuck takes a sharp turn into what looks like the middle of the forest but is really just a small, hidden extension of the trail.

Under a canopy of tall trees that wave with the wind to you and Donghyuck, there is a skinny trail that leads to glimmering water. It draws you in, your curiosity struck and your feet now moving on their own accord. Bushes tickle your ankles and the smell of some sort of flower you cannot identify floods your senses, but you can only keep walking towards the sparkling water.

The scene in front of you takes your breath away, a crisp gasp that you have no control over leaves your lips. The pond before you is big, stretching further than what you can see. The water is blue and the setting sun’s light reflects off of it to create rippling sparkles. There are some lily pads floating around, their flowers gone due to the temperature dropping recently.

You didn’t even notice that you stopped walking, your eyes wide as you take in the scenery before you. You almost forget who you’re with and why you came, but Donghyuck doesn’t let that happen. You snap out of it when he continues to walk along the trail that leads around the pond. You walk alongside Donghyuck, a few feet away with your hands awkwardly tucked into your pockets.

“C’mon, let’s sit.” He motions to a weeping willow tree. It’s tall and the branches sway pleasantly in the wind, completely unaware and indifferent to the years of history in the area. Underneath the tree is a sturdy bench, you sit on the left side while Donghyuck sits on the right side. Then, you both take a few moments to stare at the mesmerizing water that led you all the way to this seemingly magical place.

“Why did you bring me here?” You ask after a bit.

“Do you not like it?” Donghyuck asks back.

“No.” You quickly reply, looking over his side profile before turning back to the water, “I’m just curious.”

“Something in me knew you would like this place, that’s all.” Donghyuck replies while trying to hide his proud smile, looking down at the grass. “You’re curious about a lot of things, huh?”

“Yeah, I can’t help it. There’s just so much I want to know.” It’s easy to talk to him, a bit too easy. You have to keep reminding yourself that you’re supposed to have your guard up in front of him, but it’s proving harder than you thought it would be.

“Like how I’m sure that you’re my soulmate and not the person who is supposed to hurt me?” Donghyuck leans his weight away from you, his eyebrow cocked in a question. You nod your head lightly, playing with your hands on your lap.

“It’s because I’ve already met the person who’s supposed to bring me pain. I’ve already been hurt.” At his words, surprise fills you up and you turn your head to look him straight in the eye.

For some reason, you always thought that when people meet the person who brings them the largest amount of pain to their life, they couldn’t be the same ever again. How does one get hurt so badly, and still live on?

There are so many ways to hurt someone. Some people become bankrupt, some people lose all of their belongings, some people are even physically hurt by the person who has the same mark as them. How does a person go through any of that and still be themselves afterwards? More importantly, how did Donghyuck go through immense pain and still be able to smile at you like he is right here, right now?

“Here.” He begins to explain, pushing his pants around until you can see his second mark through one of the holes in his jeans, a sunflower on his knee, “My dad had the same mark as me.”

“Your…. Dad?” You ask, still confused.

“Mhmm,” He nods, now tracing the petals of the sunflower mark absentmindedly, “My parents immediately knew something was wrong when I was born. Why would a son and dad have the same mark? When I was growing up, he worked a lot, so I spent lots of time with my mom and grew closer to her. I don’t remember much from that time, but I do remember we were happy. We didn’t have a lot, but we had each other; that kind of feeling.” He looks over at you to see if you’re keeping up with the story. To Donghyuck’s surprise, you already have tears lining your eyes.

“Then one day, Dad comes home and tells us he lost his job. I remember my parents fought a lot the few weeks after that happened, mostly about how to raise me if they had no income. Dad would go out and look for work, but always came back with no luck. So eventually, my mom started working. For a while, the reason we could keep living was because of her.” Donghyuck swallows and pauses for a moment before continuing.

“And then one night, dad came home and told us he gambled. Everything, he gambled everything away. Even the little that we had, it wasn’t ours anymore. That night, my dad told me I was a mistake. My parents never meant to have me, and he said…” Donghyuck purses his lips for a moment. It had been a while since he thought about this. The scar on his heart still hurts when he picks at it. “... He said that he wished I had never been born. Then, we wouldn’t have been in that mess.”

“How old were you?” You speak up after a moment.

“Seven? Or eight.” He nods and sniffs his nose, looking down at his knee. The whole day, Donghyuck was preparing himself to tell you this story. He felt that the only way to get close to you was to open up like this first, to show you that he isn’t someone scary or bad. To Donghyuck’s surprise, telling this story hurts less now than it did earlier in this life. Maybe that means time is working, and his heart is being mended bit by bit.

Donghyuck leans his elbows against his knees, looking at the water once again while waiting for you to say anything. Are you still curious? What do you think of him now?

He was in no way prepared to feel your arms wrap around his waist in a hug, your head resting against his shoulder and your chest pressed against his side. He freezes for a moment, and then melts into your embrace completely. He’s overcome with lovesick softness for you, lightly griping the part of your arm that’s across his chest as his head turns to the side to press a kiss to the top of your head. It’s so quick that you don’t even have time to move away or to react. You just let it happen, as it’s supposed to be.

“You said that something in you knew I would like this place,” You mumble against him. He hears your voice straining with emotion, “Well, something in me knows that you need this right now.”

You and Donghyuck sit there until the sparkling water is no longer fueled by the sun’s light, but by the moon’s. It seems as though now you’ve touched Donghyuck, you never wanted to stop. You’re almost one hundred percent sure that it’s because of the soulmate bond, and a part of you nags at yourself for already chipping away at the promise you made to yourself when you were younger.

However, younger you never knew what it would be like to have a person sit in front of you and share a part of his past with you in an act of confidence and security. Your younger self never knew what it would be like to feel the same pain as someone else, and the pull you felt to touch him after sensing that physical affection would help ease that pain away.

Your younger self had no idea it was this easy to fall into a person, especially when you know they’ll catch you.

“God, I’m so sick and tired of Accounting. ___, I’m quitting school.” Xiaojun gravely tells you, his eyes not wavering from his computer screen.

“Shut up and do your homework, Jun.” You mumble, your eyes not leaving your own computer screen as you type up your Ethics essay. Three weeks into school and you’re already fully emerged in your classes. The newness of college has faded and now it’s time to start the next four years of studying endlessly for the future.

“Are you guys… okay? You haven’t moved over there in a few hours.” Mark asks from the other side of the room where he’s doing his own homework. He eyes you and your best friend from where you’re sitting on his bed, “Are you even comfortable?”

You and Xiaojun are sharing a blanket, he’s leaning against his headboard and you’re leaning against the wall. Your legs are thrown over his and several textbooks are scattered over the blanket. You’re not even sure which of these books are yours or his, or which papers laying in messy stacks belong to who.

“Yeah, I think we’re okay. We’ve been studying like this since high school.” Xiaojun answers, his fingers moving along his keyboard at the same time. You nod at Mark and he shakes his head, not understanding you two but accepting the answer.

You’re over at the guys’ dorm room enough that Mark is not surprised to see you here anymore, hanging out with Xiaojun or waiting for him to come back from class. It’s not that you don’t like your own dorm room, but it’s always so quiet in there since your roommate always studies at the library. You only hear her come into the room late at night when you’re on the verge of sleep, and when she leaves early in the morning before your alarm rings. Weekends are the same. You don’t really care, but you’ve started to hate the quiet, so you’re glad that Mark and Xiaojun don’t mind you chilling here.

“Argh,” Mark yawns and stretches after a few minutes, throwing his computer to the side and standing up, “I’m getting some snacks from the vending machine. You guys want anything?”

After you and Xiaojun answer with simultaneous shakes of your heads, which creeps Mark out, he leaves the room to get food. The room is silent for a few more moments until Xiaojun angles the lid of his laptop down to look at you.

“So… How’s the guy?”

“What guy?” You ask, still preoccupied with your essay.

“Your soulmate, ___, what other guy is there?” Xiaojun answers exasperatedly, “You never told me his name, so I don’t know what to call him. Actually, I haven’t heard you talk about him since the first day of classes. I was hoping you’d tell me what happened with him, but I guess I have to go digging up your dirt myself.” He rolls his eyes.

“His name is Haechan.” You answer, moving your computer to the side, “And I haven’t said anything to you about him because… I haven’t seen him in weeks.” You admit quietly.

“Huh? Didn’t you say you were meeting up so he could tell you why he’s sure you’re his soulmate?” You nod your head at the question, “So, what happened after that?”

“Well… I kinda, maybe, sort of…. have been avoiding him.” You answer quietly, stealing a glance at your best friend to see him staring at you blankly. When he sighs and reaches for his pillow, your eyes widen and you hold up your hands in front of you, spewing pleas and ‘wait’s. Xiaojun doesn’t care, though, flinging his pillow from behind him and into your face.

“Ow?” You whine after the pillow makes contact with your head and forces you to turn to face the other way, “Was that necessary?” You rub your nose, the part of your face that hurts worse from his attack. You’re used to Xiaojun doing this to you whenever you did something that both of you know you shouldn’t have so that you can “get some sense knocked into you, hopefully.”

“You’re so dumb. So, so dumb. Why would you avoid him.” It’s not a question, more of a confused statement to the general air. “You realize people would kill to meet their soulmate, right? People would do anything to be in your position, but you just hide away?”

“People would do anything to meet their soulmate, but people would also do anything to stay away from the person who shares their other mark.” You retaliate, “You don’t understand. To me, Haechan is both of those people.”

“There you go again, worrying about the future when you’re not even sure about what is going to happen. When will you stop worrying about something you can’t control and start thinking about today?” Xiaojun sounds so tired talking about this topic, a conversation you’ve had many times in your friendship. You wonder if he’s so tired of it, why he keeps bringing it up himself.

Before you can answer, the door to the room opens and Mark walks in, several snacks in his arms, “Hey, everyone, I hope it’s okay I brought a friend. He’s in the same major as me, just a year younger—”

“___?” Mark stops talking when his friend speaks, surprised that he already knows one of the people in the room. Your eyes widen, jaw slackening as you’re unable to even let out a peep from your mouth.

“You know each other?” Mark asks, looking between his two friends.

“Yeah, you could say I know my soulmate.” Donghyuck replies, making both Xiaojun and Mark’s eyes widen. You suddenly realize the situation you’re in: under a blanket with Xiaojun, your pajamas on, and your soulmate in front of you after you ghosted him for weeks. For the first time in a while, your eyes meet.

Donghyuck is mad. You can tell by how his fists are clenched and his jaw is tightened. Slowly getting out of the bed, you try to form some words, but Donghyuck snaps and walks over to you quickly. Grabbing your hand, he pulls you out of the room and down the hallway until you get to the lounge area. When you reach the empty room, that’s when you come to your senses.

“Donghyuck,” You pull your arm out of his, making him turn to face you, “I’m not even wearing shoes.” You hiss, pointing down to your feet as if to prove some point.

“What was all that?” He disregards your comment and hisses back at you, stepping closer so that you’re barely a few inches apart. “You were under a blanket. With some guy. Don’t you feel wrong doing that?” He asks, his hands now on his hips. You feel slightly like you’re being lectured to.

“That guy is my best friend.” You spit out.

“So, do you go around and do that to all of your guy friends?” Donghyuck chuckles vehemently, you can tell he’s angry and jealous, and that those emotions are clouding his brain at the moment. That doesn’t mean his words don’t hurt, though.

“Xiaojun and I have been best friends since we were in diapers. I’ve known you for three weeks, barely. I’m more comfortable around him than I am with you. You think just because I’m your soulmate, I’ll automatically trust you and we’ll all of a sudden be a happy couple? It doesn’t work like that, Donghyuck. I don’t even know you.” You can tell you hurt him by your last words because he turns silent, his shoulders slouching and his anger subsiding.

You can tell you hurt him, hard, because you feel the hurt, too.

It makes you realize how scary the bond between soulmates is. Even though you and Donghyuck haven’t spent that much time together to strengthen your bond, it’s still strong enough to allow you to feel his emotions. It makes you wonder if Donghyuck will be able to feel your pain in the future when he hurts you, like he’s destined to.

“Have you even tried to get to know me? You’ve been avoiding me ever since I took you to the pond.” At his comment, you fold your arms over your chest and look away, not ready to answer that question.

“I’m… just scared, is all.” You manage to reply. Although not the complete truth, it’s not a total lie. Donghyuck completely softens at your words, his close proximity to you feels less threatening and turns into something more gentle. His hand softly slips into yours, but this time with a lighter touch than before.

“You don’t have to be scared, not around me. I’m new to this too, so I don’t know how it all works yet, but this is something we can figure out together. That’s what we were fated to do.” Donghyuck can feel his words pulling you closer to him, he can feel you on the edge and he’s ready to catch you with his arms wide open.

But in the last second, you take a step back and slip your hand out of his, making his drop limply to his sides. You send him a look, something he can’t read, and then turn around and walk back to the dorm he pulled you out of.

He almost had you, almost.

When midterms come around, you use your upcoming tests and projects as a way to dive deep into your work so that you don’t have to think about Donghyuck. It’s a good plan overall, however your friends quickly start worrying for you and your health. Staying up late several nights in a row and not even being able to remember when the last time you ate is where Xiaojun pulled the plug on your bad studying habits. He confiscated your backpack and dropped you off in front of your dorm building with the promise that you’ll have all of your things back tomorrow morning only if you rest for tonight.

On your way to the elevator, you run into Yuqi, both of your facial expressions brightening when you recognize each other.

“Oh, ___, Hi!” You stop in the middle of the hallway to greet her, a smile pulling at your lips due to her bright hello. “How are you?”

“Midterms are kicking my ass, but other than that I’m fine.” She laughs at your answer, throwing her head back and letting her new short hair ruffle her shoulders.

“I wish I could tell you it gets better, but that would be a lie.” You nod your head in solemn understanding, “Listen, I can’t talk for long since I have a night class, but promise to text me when things slow down, yeah?”

“Of course, I promise.” You nod, just the thought of spending some time with a good friend already pushes away your stress. You wave bye to Yuqi as she begins to turn around but after a loud “oh!” leaves her lips, she turns back to face you.

“Your roommate, her name is Mya, right?” At her random question, you tilt your head in confusion, “She has really long, black hair and big glasses, right? I think I saw her when I was helping you move in?”

“Yeah, that’s her.” You nod, “Why?”

“She found her soulmate today.” You would’ve been more interested in the news if you knew Mya beyond when she goes to class and when she gets back to the dorm, but you feign surprise and nod your head absentmindedly.

“Lucas managed to get a video. It was a whole performance in the quad today, you’d think someone was getting married. I’ll send it to you later.” And with that, she says her last goodbye and runs off. You slowly turn and continue walking in a slow pace up to your dorm room, taking the stairs just so you can have some time to think and be away from people you could potentially run into if you use the elevator.

You’re genuinely happy for Mya, even if you barely know a single thing about her. However, something about a person close to you finding their soulmate makes you sad, considering the situation with your own soulmate. You can’t help but feel a little jealous that there are people who can meet their soulmate and fall into each other’s lives easily.

In times like these, you crave for Donghyuck.

You crave his touch and his words, you crave that comfortable feeling of belonging somewhere you get when he’s around. It’s insane that you haven’t spent much time together, yet you can yearn for someone to the extent that it hurts. It’s been like this ever since Donghyuck pulled you out of Xiaojun’s dorm and you rejected him.

Turning away from him all those weeks ago still haunts you. When you’re struggling to fall asleep, your mind goes to that night. When you let your mind wander, it wanders to that night. You constantly think about stepping away from him, but you’re not sure if you keep remembering the moment out of guilt or shame. One of the questions you keep asking yourself is if you did the right thing. You still do not have an answer.

When you walk into your dorm room, you kick off your shoes and turn on your bedside lamp, falling onto your bed with a deep sigh. You close your eyes for a second, but the peace and quiet of your room is ruined when your phone dings with a notification.

Yuqi’s message pops up, and when you swipe your phone open you can see she sent a video. You click on it and turn the volume up. This was no doubt taken earlier today in the quad, the sun shining and lots of professors and students walking in the background. Under the huge clock tower stand two people, one of them holding a large bouquet of roses. When the clock strikes noon, the bells on top of the tower begin to ring a familiar melody that can be heard all over your big campus. You see the exchange of the bouquet and the two people hug, and then applause rises from the people walking by. You smile when you hear Lucas’ whooping and hollering from behind the phone.

You’ve heard about the tradition of soulmates meeting under the clock tower at your university. Yuqi told you about it when she was giving you a tour around campus at the beginning of the semester. You remember her telling you that it’s really romantic, probably due to the history of so many people getting together in the exact same spot.

Although the idea is rather plain, you do feel your heart strings tug at the beautiful display, glad you could see something like this through a video. Then, as the camera gets closer to the couple, your smile fades and you pause the video, zooming in to get a better view. Mya is no doubt the one who received the flowers, but you can’t help but furrow your eyebrows as you recognize her soulmate.

It’s one of Donghyuck’s friends.

Not the quiet one with black hair that hangs around on the outside of their group, but the shorter one who seemed to simultaneously love and hate Donghyuck, or at least that’s what you gathered from seeing him a few times.

After the realization, you drop your phone to the side and stare up at your ceiling in defeat. Is this fate? If you didn’t meet Donghyuck on those steps two months ago, would you eventually meet him through your roommate and her soulmate? Or is this all just one big coincidence?

In this world, coincidences are harder to find than the work of fate.

Your train of thought is quickly cut off by the opening on the door, you quickly sit up to watch a huge red bouquet of flowers enter the room, followed by your roommate. You’ve only seen her face a few times this semester, but never have her features looked so bright and happy. She also looks startled when she notices you’re in the room, but her happiness doesn’t fade.

“Oh? You’re here?” She asks.

“I could ask you the same thing.” You both chuckle awkwardly, “Congrats, by the way. For finding your soulmate.” You motion to the flowers in her hand.

“Thank you! To be honest, Renjun wasn’t at all what I expected in a soulmate, but I think I love him already.” The sweetness drips from her eyes and words, and you nod and smile, remembering that Donghyuck’s friend’s name is Renjun. Her phone begins to ring and she shuffles the flowers in her hand to look at the screen, “Oh, it’s him.”

She answers the call, speaking quietly as she walks over to her side of the room. You weigh out the options of sneaking out of your dorm and finding a place to chill until your roommate falls asleep. You're not sure if you can talk to her about soulmate stuff and keep up this happy look on your face.

However, all thoughts of those plans leave your mind when Mya turns to you and holds out the phone, “It’s for you?” She says it more like a question, but you’re sure you’re the one who’s more confused.

“Hello?” You ask into the phone, awkwardly looking around the room.

“___? Oh, thank god. It’s Renjun, Haechan’s friend. I need your help.” He talks quickly and shallowly, like he’s out of breath and currently moving somewhere.

“How did you know I’m Mya’s roommate?” You ask, disregarding his cry for help.

“It’s a long story, I promise I’ll explain later, but can you please come to the auditorium? The back entrance.” You hear more voices in the background of the call, but you can’t make out what they're saying. One of them is definitely Donghyuck.

“What’s going on?” At the sound of your soulmate’s unique tenor, you suddenly become more aware of what might be happening. Is Donghyuck safe? Did he get in trouble?

“Donghyuck drank too much and he won’t go home, he keeps asking for you.” At that, you hand the phone back to Mya, who takes it from you with an unsure look. By the time Mya says her worried goodbyes and hangs up, she turns back to an empty dorm room, your phone snatched from your bed and your scattered shoes gone.

You must’ve made it to the auditorium in record time, not even the climb up the 109 steps could slow you down. When you reach the auditorium, you can hear Donghyuck and his friends conversing loudly and you follow their voices, which eventually leads you to the dingy backside of the auditorium. Donghyuck is sitting on the ground with the hood of his coat pulled up and covering his eye sight, arms crossed over his chest and his lips in a pout. His two friends, Renjun and the black-haired kid, stand above him. The quiet one is shivering in his spot while Renjun practically yells at Donghyuck on the ground, who doesn’t seem to be moving any time soon.

“Hi, ___.” The quiet one notices you first and then all three guys turn to look at you.

“___…” Donghyuck whines out your name and tries to stand up but Renjun gently pushes him back down.

“What happened?” You ask, sniffing your nose when the harsh, cold air nips at it.

“He said he wanted to unwind before his midterms tomorrow but then he went out and had some drinks, a few too many as you can see.” Renjun explains, “We followed him here, he said he won’t go anywhere unless it’s with you.”

“It’s strange. Haechan is a good drinker, I didn’t think he would get drunk so quickly… Oh, I’m Jaemin, by the way.” He introduces himself with a bright smile, as if you weren’t just discussing the drunken state of his friend.

“I’m Renjun, I called you earlier. I promise I have a good explanation for how I know you’re Mya’s roommate, I just don’t think right now is the best time to talk about it.” Renjun explains, his hands pointing towards Donghyuck.

“Right, about him… I think you guys should leave.” Both sober men widen their eyes, looking at each other and then back at you.

“Are you sure you want to handle this yourself? He looks small, but Haechan is kind of heavy.” Jaemin warns.

“Hey!” Donghyuck speaks up, but even his verbalization sounds slurred. When he points an accusing finger at Jaemin, he sways and misses Jaemin’s figure by a whole foot, “Don’t say that kind of stuff to my girlfriend.”

At his use of the word, Jaemin and Renjun stand straight with awkwardness and you sigh, white puffs of air leaving your mouth, “Yeah, you guys should go.”

Renjun and Jaemin give you an unsure look, but turn around and leave the area anyway. Renjun sends one last look over his shoulder with a wave of his hand. You look at Donghyuck after they turn the corner, kicking his shoe gently.

“Hey, get up. How much did you drink?” You’re not actually curious about how much alcohol he consumed, you just want to know if he can even respond to simple questions.

“Babe!” He exclaims when he looks up, “Oh, not much. I could go for another round right now, actually.” His words slur together and he sways in his sitting position against the brick wall of the auditorium.

“You’re not going for another round, you’re going home. C’mon.” You grab onto the sleeve of his puffer jacket, pulling him up so that he’s standing. He immediately falls onto you, his arms around your waist and his legs spread wide so that his head is hidden in your neck.

“Hyuck, you have to walk. Get up.” You pull him up once again, putting one of his arms around your shoulders and giving him more support around his waist. Slowly, you begin to walk away from the auditorium with Donghyuck’s drunk mumbling filling the cool air. His legs barely work underneath him, and he turns his head and leans into your ear every once in a while to sing some random lyric that pops into his mind at that second, like a small concert that he allows only you to hear.

Once you reach the top of the staircase, you stop and take a long look down to the bottom, “Why did you have to come all the way up here? How are we getting down the stairs?” If you start to climb down, Donghyuck could fall and hurt himself. You’re not that strong to begin with and your shoulders are already feeling sore from carrying most of Donghyuck’s weight.

“We can ride this.” He giggles and breaks away from you, one of his legs swinging over the handrail so that he’s straddling it.

“No, no, no.” You pull him off, but his shoe gets caught against the rail and he comes falling down onto you, both of you landing on the top step of the staircase. You wince in pain at how your back hits the concrete, but you don’t think about it much as you push Donghyuck off of you and into the space next to you on the top stair.

“Oh, no. Are we stuck up here?” He asks as you brush your hands together to get rid of the little pieces of concrete in your skin.

“Yes, and it’s all your fault. What are you gonna do about it?” You reply, so sarcastically that even Donghyuck’s drunk brain registers the joke. Your heart almost leaps out of your throat when he grabs your hands and pulls you closer to him, gently picking out each little ball of cement in your palms.

“I’m sorry I keep hurting you.” He apologizes. This close, you can smell the alcohol in his breath, mixed with his shampoo and cologne. He smells warm in this cold weather, and you feel like falling into him and drinking up his scent, not even minding the alcohol stench.

“Keep hurting me?” You ask.

“Yeah, that must be why you don’t want to be with me. I have to be doing something wrong for you to hate me.” He sighs, sniffling and enclosing your hands in his, his glassy eyes looking up at you and his long hair hangs down over his forehead and tickles his eyelashes. “I’m a bad soulmate.”

The way he says it makes your heart break. It makes you feel regret 1000 times worse than what you’ve been feeling these past few weeks; as if all of the worry and sadness hit you all at once, you feel like crying.

Isn’t he supposed to be the one who hurts you? Why does it feel like you’re the only one doing the hurting?

“You’re not a bad soulmate,” It’s not Donghyuck’s fault that he got stuck with you, or that things will turn out the way that they’re destined to, “And I don’t hate you.”

“You don’t?” He looks up into the night sky and sways a bit as he thinks, “Then why won’t you be with me? Hm?” He tilts his head, his lips pouting as he thinks. You desperately want to find an answer that’ll soothe him, but nothing you can come up with will give you that result, the truth included.

“It’s complicated…” You trail off, and your answer makes Donghyuck snort.

“How? I’m your soulmate, you’re mine. What else matters?” He laughs incredulously.

“What if you’re not just my soulmate?” You ask him, surprising yourself with how easily you can ask the question, probably because the influence of alcohol over him has you more at ease, “What if something happens in the future? I’m just… looking out for me, and for you.” You explain, trying to sound as vague as possible.

When you glance at Donghyuck, he looks dead serious. You think that maybe he has suddenly sobered up with how deep and calculating his eyes look. One of his hands tighten around yours while the other slowly raises to your hair, pacing himself along the way, and pausing before he touches you. When you don’t stop him, he gently caresses your hair and moves it away from your face, his nimble fingers sliding to your jaw. He moves your face so that your eyes meet his.

“I know I’m drunk, but I can make this promise again when I’m sober. I’ll make this promise every single day for the rest of my life, only if it means you can be there with me to fulfill it.” The severeness in his tone is like a wake up call about how serious this is for him.

“What promise?” You whisper back.

“It’s not just a ‘you’ or just a ‘me’ now. It’s an ‘us.’ And I will do everything I can to not hurt us.”

He says it with so much conviction that you somehow believe him. You finally fall into him and rest your tired head on his shoulder as he welcomes you into his warm arms. Maybe it’s foolish of you to think you two can go against fate’s words, but with him by your side, you feel like you can conquer the whole universe.

“Stop smiling like that, you’re making it very obvious that you got laid for the first time.” Donghyuck peers over his laptop screen to Renjun, where he has had a permanent smile on his face ever since he, Donghyuck, and Jaemin met up today to study in the lounge center of their dorm building.

“You know, Haechan, I’m not even mad at that. It’s more than what I can say to you.” Renjun tries to hide his widening smile while looking down at his own laptop, but that paired with Jaemin’s quiet laughter leaves Donghyuck bitter. “Didn’t you and ___ make up?” Renjun asks.

“They were fighting? I thought they just weren’t talking to each other?” Jaemin asks.

“Isn’t that fighting?”

“Kids.” Haechan cuts them off, “Not that it’s any of your business, but we were not fighting and we did make up.”

“That makes no sense.” Jaemin mutters and squints his eyes at Donghyuck.

“I’m older than you.” Renjun retaliates, but Donghyuck pretends like he doesn’t hear.

“We’re just… taking it slow.” Donghyuck ends his explanation with a firm nod of his head, and Renjun shuts his laptop and turns to his friend.

“Can you take it slow during the Fair this weekend? I’m planning to go with Mya and accidentally bought two pairs of tickets. I’ll give you the other pair.” Renjun leans into his friend’s side and wiggles his eyebrows.

“At what cost?” Haechan leans in as well and raises an eyebrow.

“Help me with my English project.”

“No way,” Haechan leans back and focuses on his own laptop screen again, “I haven’t even started mine, I don’t have time to help you with yours.”

“Please,” Renjun draws out the word, grabbing Donghyuck’s sleeve and tugging at it so hard that he can’t properly type, “I suck at English, and unfortunately it’s the only thing that you’re better at than me.”

“The only thing?” Donghyuck glares at Renjun. “Now I’m definitely not helping you.” When Renjun whines at that Donghyuck gets a devilish idea, and it shows by the smirk on his face, “... Unless, you’d like to show us how you really need help.”

At Donghyuck’s proposition, he leans back in his chair with his arms folded across his chest while Jaemin mirrors his actions, his own goofy smile on his face as he waits for Renjun to either accept or deny the proposition, but he hopes he’ll accept it.

Renjun looks between his two friends and sighs, dropping his head down as he mentally prepares himself. When he lifts his head, he looks at Donghyuck with his lips pursed, his pointer finger over them and makes a “kyu” sound that is way higher than his original speaking voice. Jaemin and Haechan immediately burst into as quiet of laughter as they can, Jaemin reaching over the table to poke Renjun’s cheek at his cuteness.

“I never said to act cute, I just wanted you to say please again.” Donghyuck jokes through his snickering, and Renjun immediately stands up from his chair to take a fistful of Haechan’s jacket and pull back his other fist, all cuteness gone from his facial features in a split second.

“Okay, okay, sorry, sorry.” Haechan tries to pull away, his voice rising as Renjun holds onto his jacket tighter and threateningly leans in.

“Hey, quiet down.” Someone whisper-shouts from a few tables away, and it makes Renjun let go of Donghyuck and slowly sit back down. “This isn’t even a library, why are they shushing me.” He grumbles.

“You guys have fun on your date,” Jaemin sighs as he begins to put away his things, satisfied with the study session and with his friends' mischief, “I would go too, but I don’t feel like being a fifth wheel.”

Once your classes end on the day of the Fair, you and your roommate meet up with Donghyuck and Renjun outside of the Fair grounds. You and Donghyuck walk side by side, a bit behind the other couple as they lead the way, practically in their own little bubble. Your hands are shoved in your pockets to keep them from turning numb from the cold and you try to shove your head as far into your jacket as you can to keep your face and neck protected from the wind. Other than the chilly weather, it’s a perfect day for a Fair.

You don’t seem to notice Donghyuck’s predicament right beside you; he’s trying to find a way to hold your hand, but you don’t move them out of your pockets. Actually, Donghyuck is sure you’re doing this on purpose, since he has been trying to touch you the moment you met up with him tonight.

“So, what do you wanna ride first?” He asks you. After looking around the area, your eyes land on a tea cup ride, where the large cups move in circles and also spin in their spots.

“That.” You point to it. Before you can move, Donghyuck latches into your hand that was pointing into the air and pulls you to the ride, a smug smile on his face at how he succeeded in finally sharing some skin to skin contact.

The ride was, to say the least, nauseating. Not that it was disgusting, but Donghyuck wouldn’t stop spinning your individual cup around in fast circles, and you were so sure that you would fling off any second due to the strong velocity those tiny cups have when they go at full speed. However, walking off of the ride with wobbly legs and not being able to see straight was funnier than you thought it would be.

Donghyuck was actually still pretty dizzy when he tried to win a stuffed octopus for you with a dart game. However, he ended up losing $15 while trying to win the game, and you’re sure he would’ve spent more if you didn’t pull him away. After eating some good food and refilling your energy, the sun begins to set on the horizon in a colorful display of red, orange and pink, and people start to make their way to the ferris wheel.

“C’mon,” You hear Mya say from behind you, “We need to get in line first or else we’ll be waiting for half of the night.” She pulls Renjun by his sleeve and passes you and Donghyuck, practically running to the end of the growing line for the Ferris Wheel. When you see where she’s running to, you stop in your tracks which in turn makes Donghyuck stop. Your intertwined fingers pull you back to each other as he looks at you with a puzzled look.

“I’m… not good with heights.” You confess and look towards the top of the ferris wheel, shivering just at the thought of going that far up into the sky in a metal contraption, “Or small spaces…” You add on.

“That’s okay,” Donghyuck gently reassures, smiling lightly at your sudden timidness about your fears. Honestly, he’s just happy you now trust him a bit more to even tell him what you’re afraid of. “We don’t have to go. We can do something else.”

“Like what?” You ask. Donghyuck purses his lips and looks around, until a set of stairs on the edge of the fairgrounds catches his eye.

“I know a place where we can still get a good view of the sunset without going too far up.” He replies and tugs you along with him towards the set of stairs. They lead down to the park that’s nestled in the middle of your University, which eventually leads to a pedestrian bridge that crosses over a river that runs through your town.

The river isn’t that big, nor is the bridge, but it’s big enough to have your head tilting up in wonder as you gaze at the lights adorning the sides of it, lighting up not only the bridge itself by the sky as well. You’ve seen this bridge from your dorm room, but you’ve never once stood on it, and it looks remarkable from this close up.

Donghyuck continues to lead you over the pedestrian bridge onto the other side, where an outdoor museum that was constructed by art students a few years ago holds several different abstract paintings. His hand in yours, which has been it’s resting place all night, keeps yours warm. You try not to think about how your hands fit into each other like the gears of a hand-crafted watch. The lines on your palms connect with the lines on his; it’s painfully obvious he was made for you and you were made for him.

When you reach the end of the outdoor museum, you turn west and face the sunset just as it’s setting over the skyline. Even though some tall buildings obstruct the view, the colors of the sky stretch overhead and make both you and Donghyuck stand still and appreciate the artwork in the sky.

“You like these kinds of things, huh? Sunsets, and ponds, and that kind of stuff?” He suddenly asks, not talking his eyes off of the sky. You, however, turn to look at him. He has his eyes screwed as he tries to look at the sunset, obviously not liking the bright sunlight.

“You don’t?” You ask back.

“I think... there are more enjoyable things.” Donghyuck takes a while to make up his mind about what he wants, obviously trying not to make the things you enjoy sound bad to him.

“Then we should go.” You turn around, but he pulls you back to your original spot.

“We walked all this way, we’re watching this sunset even if my feet freeze to the ground.” He tightens his grip on your hand and speaks through his teeth, making you sputter out a laugh and hit his shoulder with your own lightly.

“Sometimes, I wonder why fate put us together.” You ask, watching as the sun moves bit by bit, leaving behind trails of light and the beginnings of stars and the vast universe on the other side of the sky. “We’re different. I don’t know about you, but you are not who I imagined my soulmate would be.” You speak truthfully.

Even though there are some strings attached to Donghyuck’s relationship with you, it didn’t stop you from thinking about what kind of person he’d be— what kind of person fate would pick to be your perfect fit. Maybe they would have some sort of major flaw, like an anger problem or a lack of common sense. Maybe they would be an alcoholic or someone who commits crimes.

When it came to your soulmate, you always thought of something bad considering that they were also going to hurt you in some way. You never thought that your soulmate would be someone as unique and fun as Donghyuck. Fate made it way too easy to be with him, and you’re not sure whether to feel bitter or thankful.

“Well,” He blows some air through his nose, “You’re exactly what I thought my soulmate would be like” Your heart jumps into your throat and beats irregularly when Donghyuck says that, struck with the feeling of surprise once again.

“Mark tells me you’re smart and get good grades, and I know it was you who ordered that soup for me the morning after you took me home when I got drunk. Not to mention, you went out when it was dark to take me home in the first place.” Donghyuck explains, his hand that’s still interlocked with yours waving around as he does so, “You’re willing to help others, you have a good head on your shoulders, and not to mention you guard your heart to the very end.”

“Guarding my heart… That’s an admirable quality? If I remember correctly, it caused you some pain in the past few months.” By now, the last rays of the sun are disappearing over the horizon and night begins to blanket the sky. You turn to your soulmate when he takes more than a moment to answer, watching the way his face reacts to the thoughts turning in his head.

“Yeah, it is a great quality. I think if you completely trusted me the moment you saw me on those stairs, we wouldn’t end up here now. You wouldn’t be the perfect fit for me if you loved me so easily.” He turns to you, a teasing smile playing on his lips. Your interlocked fingers are basically frozen together at this point and maybe your feet really have stuck to the ground, but his words warm you up from the inside out.

“I think I would’ve fallen in love with you even if we weren’t destined to be together.”

Somehow, he manages to remind you of one very important fact that you’ve set aside since the moment you met him. You’ve always put the fact that he’s supposed to hurt you first, and the fact that he’s your soulmate second. However, he is a human and so are you, and you’re both given the opportunity to love one another wholly and truly. People die to have this type of moment. People live their whole lives without experiencing this type of emotion.

It’s time to remember that Donghyuck is your soulmate, first and foremost. He is deserving of love, and you’re now willing to give it to him.

When you pull Donghyuck into you, he feels like it may be a hallucination. Surely your lips can’t be that close to his own. But when he smells the cinnamon on your lips from that churro you had and your fingers sliding up his arm to grip his jacket, he becomes scared that this might actually be a hallucination.

You slowly lean in, almost painfully slow, but Donghyuck doesn’t dare rush you. When your lips do meet, both of you feel complete. The feeling of finishing a lifetime’s worth of work with one gentle kiss is the most delicious feeling ever, different from anything that either of you have ever experienced.

It’s slow and careful, but passionate and full of true love. No matter what happens in the future, it will always be your memory to savor and remember for the rest of your lives.

“___!” You hear Mark’s voice from your right, turning your head quickly to see him stick his hand up in the air and begin to make his way through the throngs of people between you two. You move towards him, attempting to meet in the middle, but somehow he ends up behind you, and you laugh as you attempt to meet again.

“Hey, Mark,” You look over him, noting how well he manages to pull off the choir robe that everyone else seems to look like a sack of potatoes in, “I didn’t know your concerts could get this packed. You guys could start your own group and make it big.” You look around while adjusting the flowers in your hand so they don’t get squished against your chest.

“Nah, it’s mostly just families that come to these concerts. Since there are a lot of vocal majors, there are a lot of families that show up.” He explains.

“So, what does that make me?” You joke, but Mark doesn’t seem to get it and tilts his head to the side.

“You’re Donghyuck’s girlfriend. That makes you family, right?” At the mention of your relationship, you glance down at the flowers in your hand, the flowers that are meant for the aforementioned boy. You nod, mumbling something like a ‘I guess’ before Mark looks down at his watch and sucks a breath through his teeth.

“Okay, I have to go warm up. Make sure you get a seat in the middle, that’s where it sounds best.” He gives you a quick wave as he walks away, and you manage to send one back. Before you know it, the doors to the auditorium open and people flood in to grab the best seat they can.

You barely manage to snag a seat in the middle, an older lady to your right and a grandpa to your left who seem to be unrelated and didn’t mind you sitting between them. You shrug off your coat as you look around, feeling anxiety build up in your chest. You know you don’t have anything to be anxious for, so you deduct that it’s probably Donghyuck.

He invited you to the concert today. For him, it’s part of his final grade for his vocal class and for you, it’s a chance to see him sing on stage. Strangely, he has talked about how much he loves to perform but never wants to sing in front of you. When he told you he auditioned for a solo in one of the songs, and ended up getting the part, you knew you absolutely had to come today.

Pulling out your phone, you send Donghyuck a text saying that you’re seated and that you wish him to break a leg. You see the read receipt pop up next to your text, and although he doesn’t text anything back, the anxious feeling in your chest subsides and you smile to yourself.

“Those are pretty flowers.” Turning your head to the lady on your right, you glance down at the bouquet of black-eyed susans on your lap.

“Oh, thank you.” You put your phone on silent and slip it into your pocket.

“They’re my mom’s favorite.” Your attention turns to a kid who sits on the other side of the woman. He can’t be any older than ten, and his feet don’t touch the ground as he swings them back and forth and looks up at his mother.

“Oh?” You ask, turning back to the older woman, “Would you like some?”

The woman seems to be stunned by your question, obviously not expecting you to hand over flowers at such a comment from her son. She looks almost flustered as she shakes her head at you.

“No, it’s okay. I bet those are for someone special?” She asks while nodding towards the stage.

“They’re for my… boyfriend.” You mumble, still not used to the words leaving your tongue, even though it has been more than a few weeks now.

“Then you should save them for him.” She nods and you smile back.

“But I want one.” The woman’s son pouts, and the mother nudges her foot against his leg. You laugh a bit, using your right hand to hold down the bouquet and your left to pull out a flower. Carefully, you hand it over to the little boy and he grasps it, his pout turning into a smile while he sings a ‘thank you’ and counts the petals on the flower.

The woman gives you a nod, and you all turn to face forward where the students are beginning to walk onto the stage.

The concert went well; you weren’t familiar with any of the pieces of music the choir performed, and many of them were in different languages, but you still enjoyed the performance by the many music students from your university. You managed to catch sight of Donghyuck fairly quickly, and Mark was just a few rows behind him.

Donghyuck’s solo fit his voice perfectly. Maybe you’re biased, but you think no one would be able to match his tone and technique to fit the song as perfectly as he did. Since it was the first time you heard him sing, you were a bit taken back by how amazing his voice sounds and how much control he has of it. It didn’t look like he struggled to hit the notes, and he looked like he was in his element on stage.

After the concert, you wait on the staircase outside of the auditorium building where you agreed to meet up with Donghyuck. You roll on your feet, jumping up and down slightly to keep warm. You clutch the flowers to you, scared that the cold weather might cause them to bend and begin to wilt quicker.

“Oh, it’s the flower lady!” You hear a familiar voice call out, and you turn your head to see the little boy and his mom from earlier… walking with Donghyuck? He has his choir robe hanging from one arm and his other hand intertwined with the little kid.

“Do you guys know each other?” Donghyuck asks, looking between the three of you with confusion.

“We happened to sit next to each other during the concert.” The woman explains, a grin growing on her face as she looks between you two. “This is your soulmate.” She doesn’t say it like a question, she says it plainly and nods her head in content.

“I’m sorry, did you already know who I was when we met?” You ask her.

“No, until I saw the mark on your left hand. I would recognize my own son’s mark anywhere.” Son? This is Donghyuck’s mother?! Your eyebrows must be up to your hairline and you think your mouth might be open, but you can only focus on remembering every little thing you said to her before the concert started to recall if you said anything dumb.

“Let me introduce you properly. This is ___, my soulmate and my girlfriend. ___, this is my mom, Sara, and my half-brother, Hyunjin.” Donghyuck gently takes your elbow and pulls you closer to him.

“It’s nice to meet you.” You politely greet them as if it’s the first time ever.

“Well, I like her. She gave me a flower.” Hyunjin exclaims.

“Back off, she’s mine.” Donghyuck jokes with the kid. “Thank you guys for coming today, by the way.” He continues, “I appreciate my favorite people being here for my first college performance.”

Donghyuck goes to hug his mom as she sets a kiss to his cheek that makes him cringe away slightly. However, you’re still struck to your spot from being included into Donghyuck’s group of favorite people. There’s a warm feeling in your chest at being included into something so special so early on in your relationship. There’s also some anxiety that comes with it, since promises that are made too early hurt the most, but you push the feeling away and soak in Donghyuck’s unconditional love.

After you all bid farewell to each other, and Sara and Hyunjin leave, you turn to Donghyuck with a deadpan expression, “You didn’t tell me I’d be meeting your family today.”

“Would you believe me when I say that I forgot they were coming?” He asks and you roll your eyes, not believing his words at all.

“These are for you.” You push the flowers into his chest and dig your hands into your pockets so that they can finally get warm, “Your solo was… interesting to listen to.” You say with annoyance dripping from every word.

“Thank you,” He replies cutely, not affected by your irritation. You roll your eyes again, but a smile tugs at your lips as well. “What kind of flowers are these? I don’t think I’ve ever seen them?” He asks while digging his nose into the bouquet.

“Black-eyed susans.” You reply, and Donghyuck gives you a weird look.

“That’s such a random flower.”

“They attract dragonflies.” You explain, nudging his side with your elbow. When you glance over to him, he has a smile playing on his lips.

“Should I be giving these to you, then?” He hands them over, but you push them back at him.

“No way. I’m already attracted to you.” You state, turning around to walk back down the staircase. When you don’t hear any footsteps following you, you turn around to find Donghyuck kneeling over with the flowers clutched close to him.

“Are you okay?” Alarm rises in your chest, especially when he shakes his head at your question.

“No, you just made my heart beat really fast and I’m afraid I’m gonna have a heart attack.” You would roll your eyes again, but you’re afraid they might roll out of your head at this point. You climb back up the stairs and yank on his sleeve jacket to make him walk alongside you.

“___, feel my heart. I swear it’s going to beat out of my chest.”

“Shut up, Donghyuck.”

“No, seriously, I think we should go to the hospital.”

“Shut up.”

In the morning, Donghyuck loves to wake up next to you. He has always been a spread-out type of sleeper; arms to the side, legs open, laying diagonally across the bed. Once you two moved out of your dorms and moved into an apartment together during your second year of college, Donghyuck’s way of sleeping changed dramatically.

Now, he can’t help but snuggle in, wrap his arms around you, tangle his legs in with yours, and do everything he can to sleep as close as he can to you. Maybe that’s why he suddenly woke up. The absence of you next to him made him shuffle awake, missing the frame of your body next to his like how it usually fits.

He groggily opens his eyes and immediately shivers, catching the open windows in the bedroom letting in fresh, cool, morning air. Donghyuck shivers once again, blindly reaching for the blanket and wrapping it around his head and shoulders, then making his way out of the bedroom in search of you.

He checks the kitchen, but you’re not there. Then he goes to the living room, and he sees your figure outside on the balcony, the curtains that are supposed to be hanging up in your bedroom moving with the wind as they hang next to you. He tightens the blanket around him and opens the glass door. Even though you definitely heard him come outside, you don’t turn around. You have a cup of something warm next to you and you’re leaning against the balcony while staring out into the city skyline, watching the sun rise into the sky to welcome the new day.

“Good morning.” Donghyuck mumbles as softly as he can. When you mumble back a reply, he opens the front of the blanket so he can swallow you into his embrace. His chin rests on your shoulder and tries to guess exactly what you’re looking at, but when he lifts his head to look at your face, your eyes are closed.

“So, do you want to tell me why our curtains are out here and not on our windows like they should be?” He rests his head against yours, also closing his eyes.

“I woke up and suddenly felt the urge to clean them, I don’t know.” You laugh a bit, making both of you move with the movement of your chest. Donghyuck smiles at your reason; one of the things he learned about you when you moved in together is that your work ethic comes in random bursts of energy, rather than carefully planned out schedules to follow. You always have a small goal for every day, and sometimes you don’t even know what it is until it randomly pops into your head. Although he doesn’t really understand how you’re able to work like that, he loves this little quirk anyway.

“Did I wake you up?” You whisper and nudge your head into Donghyuck’s, nuzzling back into him when a particularly strong gust of wind blows over the balcony.

“Not technically, no. You not being next to me woke me up.” He replies.

“Well, I’m here now. How about we sleep some more?” You ask, leaning back against him and looking at his face.

“Best thing I’ve heard today.” He sighs. Without letting you out of his blanket trap, he walks you both back into the apartment and into your bedroom, both of you beginning to giggle at one point when you almost trip over the blanket and crash into the ground.

Thankfully, you both made it back safely to the bed, falling into the soft mattress. Immediately, Donghyuck gathers you in his arms and cuddles you to him, almost like he’s latching onto you. You wrap your arms around him slowly and lean into his shoulder, placing a kiss against his collarbone. You were going to stop there, but when he lets out a whimper at the small press of your lips to his skin, you continue moving up his neck.

When you reach the space underneath his ear, he twitches at how you suck on the sensitive skin, not expecting you to pay closer attention there. His hand slides over your back, between your shoulder blades, and back down, pressing you to him as he caresses you and silently hopes you don’t stop what you’ve started.

You don’t seem to have any intention to do that when you lean back, looking up at Donghyuck’s big, round eyes as they stare down hazily at you and quickly connecting your lips. He kisses back slowly, as if taking his sweet, sweet time in loving you.

“I thought we were supposed to sleep?” You ask between kisses.

“We can sleep later…” He trails off, grabbing your hand and pulling you on top of him so that you’re straddling his hips. “... If you’re really tired we don’t have to.” He suddenly pulls away, his hand comfortably resting over your waist.

“No way. It’s too late for that.” You answer, pulling your shirt over your head and tossing it to the other side of the bed. A chill runs through you at the cold temperature in the room, goosebumps forming over your arms and your nipples hardening. Donghyuck wraps his arms around your middle and presses a kiss in the valley of your chest, moving over until he reaches your left nipple and taking it into his mouth.

Biting your lip, your hands find his hair and tug on the long strands. Donghyuck’s hands squeeze your sides and his fingers draw random, little lines over your bare skin as he sucks and plays with your nipples, switching between each one.

“Hyuck…” You whine, giving a particularly sharp tug to his hair when he bites down onto your right nipple. “Please…” You trail off.

“Hmm? Please what? What do you want.” He leans back and looks up at you. You comb your fingers through his hair, pushing it back away from his face and behind his ears. His eyes are clouded and hooded over by the thoughts of you that are speeding through his mind.

“Please, make love to me.” You say it shyly, your eyes looking over his face but not meeting his own. He can’t help but smile at your timidness. You act like it’s the first time those words came out of your mouth. He can’t help but find it endearing how you ask him to make love to you every single time you find yourselves in this position.

“Of course, anything for you.” He connects your lips again, keeping the slow and steady pace from before. He shifts around as he moves his boxers away. Breaking the kiss, you move his hands away and pump his shaft, glancing up at him as he leans back with his weight on his hands and his head leaning back.

He lets out whines every time you twist your wrist, and you almost want to take a moment and stay this way, loving the sounds coming from Donghyuck’s mouth and how he looks as he pants beneath you. However, the tension growing between your legs makes you stop and sit up, pulling off your own pajama bottoms and underwear, throwing them somewhere along with your shirt.

Donghyuck grips your hips with one hand, the other pressing his middle finger to your slick folds, watching you squirm from above as he slides his finger through slowly.

“Just— Can you just do something already?” You almost whine out, grabbing onto his arm hard enough that you leave crescent moons in his skin.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, yes, I’m sure.” With your permission, Donghyuck positions himself at your entrance and slowly brings your hips down, watching your reaction throughout it all. The way your jaw slacks and drops open to the way you swallow when your hips meet with his, closing your eyes in pleasure at how he manages to fit inside you so perfectly. When everyone says your soulmate is made specifically for you, they really do mean in every way possible.

You sit like that for a moment, before opening your eyes and looking at your lover. He helps you move your hips up and back down, you let out a gsap at the sparks that fly up your spine. Your hips start to move in unison, yours grinding down and his moving up to meet yours in a steady rhythm, like a dance to music only you two can hear.

Your nails hurt when they move over his shoulders and chest, leaving temporary marks, but Donghyuck doesn’t mind. Actually, he loves it when you tug on his hair and scratch up his back, his whines turning into full out groans when you lean in and attach your lips to the side of his neck, pressing hot kisses down to his collarbone and biting down gently in the same place this whole situation started.

“H-Hyuck, I—” Before you know it, you’re so close to your orgasm, it’s basically right in front of you to reach out and accept.

“I know, baby, I know. You can come, I got you.” He answers back messily, using the last of his energy to keep your hips in place and drive himself into you. You let out a shriek at the sudden pleasure, only a few more deep thrusts into your hole and you’re falling over him as your orgasm spreads to every crevice of your body.

Donghyuck loves the way your muscles seize and flutter around him, making him pant and his thrusts become sloppy as he comes as well, his warm seed filling you up as he rides through his high. You both fall into the mattress below, you on top of Donghyuck, too tired to roll over and opting to just rest on his sweaty chest.

“I think that was way better than sleeping.” He says, his chest rumbling underneath you as he speaks.

“What a good way to tire ourselves out.” You yawn.

In the last few moments before your tired bodies fall asleep, you find Donghyuck’s hand and intertwine your fingers together, happily and contently falling asleep with the fresh air coming through the window and the sunlight now fully streaming into the room.

In the late summer before your and Donghyuck’s last year of university, you attend a wedding. Not just any wedding: Yuqi and Lucas’ wedding.

Although the ceremony is held outside, there’s a nice breeze that keeps the guests from getting too hot and sweaty in the summer sun. The whole wedding is held in a botanical garden and the place is decorated in white and purple, lilacs and daisies filling vases everywhere you go and freshening the air with their scent.

You and Donghyuck walk into the room inside the administrative building that’s designated for the bride. Yuqi is there, her face shining brightly with happiness and a glow that can’t be stolen from her today.

When you walk in, you let out a sound of delight at how pretty your college friend looks in her wedding dress, taking note of the chamomile flowers that adorn her hairpiece.

“Ah, I can’t believe you’re here.” She all but shrieks, embracing you tightly with her small bouquet still in her hands. After she gives Donghyuck a small, welcoming hug, she backs away to look at both of you.

“You look amazing today, I can’t believe you’re actually getting married. Congratulations.” You say sincerely.

“I can’t believe it either, actually. I feel like we’ve been planning this for forever, and now the day is finally here.” She recalls, a blissful look in her eyes even though you’re aware of how much stress she has had during the past few months over this one day.

“Are you nervous?” Donghyuck asks and you nudge his side and send him a look for asking a question like that.

“No, I’m not,” Yuqi laughs, “I feel one hundred percent happy. Like I’m starting the next part of my life with the one I love.”

“I’m glad you can spend the rest of your life with your soulmate, you’re definitely luckier than most.” You muse, and she suddenly softens her expression and takes your hand in hers, gently holding onto you.

“I’m not marrying my soulmate. I’m marrying the one I love. It just happens to be the same person.”

After bidding your farewells and good lucks, you and Donghyuck walk out of the room and head to where the ceremony will be held. He pulls out of sunglasses, propping them on the edge of his nose, and then grabbing your hand and strolling through the exhibits on the way to the ceremony grounds.

Yuqi’s words ring in your head throughout the peaceful walk, specifically how happy she looked to be marrying the one she loves. Somehow, you never thought about separating soulmate from lover; those two people have always been one in your head. You always thought that there can’t be a soulmate without a lover, and there can’t be a lover without a soulmate.

But the moment with Yuqi reminded you of the first time Donghyuck properly confessed to you, the words you can still hear floating through your head whenever your mind wanders off and thinks about him.

“I think I would’ve fallen in love with you even if we weren’t destined to be together.”

Maybe Donghyuck has been wiser than you this whole time. Not that you’d ever admit that to his face, unless you’d like to hear about it at least three times a week for the rest of your life.

Every memory— every year that has passed by with Donghyuck has only grown the idea of soulmate and lover further apart in your mind, and it took the matrimony of your close friends to realize it. You don’t think it’s a bad thing; in fact, you’re lucky that you can call your lover and your soulmate the same person.

You feel something tugging at your hand, and when you look over at your lover, he looks at you expectedly.

“Huh?” You say, dumbfounded since you’ve been in your own little world for who knows how long. Donghyuck laughs, bending over a bit at the funny, bewildered look on your face before straightening up and looking over to you again.

“I said, what colors should we do for our wedding? I personally think I look good in red, but I’m sure we can figure out something less contrasting.” He explains nonchalantly, you realize he’s kicking a random pebble around as you walk. Looking around, confused out of your mind, you turn back to him.

“Are we getting married?”

“Well, yeah,” He does something between a laugh and a scoff before leaning next to you, a serious look that permeates through the shade of his sunglasses, “You do want to marry me, right?”

Your brain is in a complete fritz. If you had a whole day to think about this you could maybe make up a sentence that resembles a sophisticated answer, but you can only shrug.

“Uh, yeah, I guess.”

“You guess?” Donghyuck stops walking, “I just asked you if you want to get married, and you reply with ‘uh, yeah, I guess.’” He mocks your tone and it makes you roll your eyes at him.

“This is the first time we’ve ever talked about this and I got nervous.” You explain, making him relax and stand in front of you with his hands leisurely resting in his pockets. “Of course, someday I would like to marry you. I guess you’re… tolerable.” Donghyuck pushes you away from him and quickly walks down the path, twice as fast as he was walking before. You laugh and follow him, running slightly to catch up.

“Excuse me, Miss, would you like to leave a wish for the happy couple?” A sudden voice stops you, making you turn back around. A man stands with a camera, looking at you expectedly.

“Uh, how?” You look from the camera and back up to him.

“I’ll take your picture. You can write a wish on it and hang it up over there.” He points to the dozens of polaroids already hung up a few feet away, random people posing in the photographs with different color writing on every picture.

“Let’s do it.” Donghyuck comes up behind you, no doubt catching the last part of what the photographer said and pushing you lightly over to where there’s better lighting while taking off his sunglasses and tucking them into his shirt. The photographer asks you to pose, and you and Donghyuck smile for the camera, your eyes slightly shut due to the sun beating down on top of you.

“Great, how about one more for yourselves?” The photographer asks as he waits for the photograph to develop and you agree. This time, Donghyuck wraps an arm around you and pulls you closer so that your back is against his chest. You feel him rest his cheek on your head and drape his other arm around your front. You grab onto his forearm, not knowing what to do with your hands, and then suddenly the picture is taken and the photographer hands over both of the developed photos.

You take the second picture out of Donghyuck’s hands, not being able to look away. The sun seems to hit both of you just right, and the slight candidness of the photo adds another layer of reality to the picture. Donghyuck has a small smile while his cheek is slightly squished against your head, but he still looks as handsome as ever.

“What wish should we leave them?” He asks, picking up a golden sharpie from the table nearby, somehow already having his sunglasses back on.

“Maybe just… Congratulations on getting married?” You suggest.

“And a million other people will have the same thing. We need to be memorable.” He stresses and taps the end of the sharpie against his head. “What do you wish for Lucas and Yuqi?”

“I wish…” You think about it for a moment, “For them to have a lifetime of memories that they can share until the very end.” You nod.

“Oh?” Donghyuck looks at you, “When did you become a poet?” He asks as he writes that down at the bottom of the first picture.

“I’ve always been like this. I’m glad you just now figured it out.” You reply sarcastically, to which Donghyuck replies back with his own sarcastic laugh. He hangs up your picture close to where Mark and Xiaojun hung up their’s, and then turns back around.

“Alright, let’s get this show on the road.” He pushes up his sunglasses with his ring finger and thumb, walking with swagger towards the ceremony and grabbing your hand while he’s passing by.

“If you’re going to be like this at our wedding, maybe I’ll have to change my mind…”

For one today being one of the most awaited days of your life, it started out pretty regularly.

You wake up from the ringing of your alarm, get ready, and go to your classes for the day. You had breakfast before you left, and lunch right before your last class of the day. Even work was boring as usual, but nothing beat going to the store afterwards.

When you got to the aisle filled with shoes, you were first puzzled by how many options there are. So many colors and styles, you didn’t expect to be so overwhelmed and accidentally spent almost an hour just looking at every individual pair. This had to be perfect. This was going to be a memory that you thought about for the rest of your life.

You call Donghyuck when you approach your front door, he answers almost immediately.

“Hey, love, what’s up?” He yawns through the words, and you can’t help but smile as you look down at the bag in your hands.

“Oh, I was just wondering when you’ll be home.” You open the front door and shut it behind you, taking off your shoes.

“I’m right outside of our building. Did you just get home?” He asks, no doubt hearing the front door from your side of the line.

“I’ll talk to you when you get up here then, see you.” You send a kiss through the phone and abruptly end the call. If Donghyuck is right outside of the building he’ll be up to your apartment in just a few minutes.

You drop the rest of your things down at the front door and hurry into the kitchen, setting down the small white bag with a lace bow on top in the middle of the kitchen table, clearing the table of anything else. You slide into a seat at the table, fixing your clothes nervously as you hear the front door open. Not even a few seconds later, Donghyuck walks into the kitchen, his eyes moving from you to the white bag and back to you.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, dead serious. Your nerves and anxiety, and maybe even some fear, must be strong enough for him to feel. You shake your head and pat the chair next to you. Donghyuck takes a seat, he came through the door so quickly that he didn’t even take his shoes or his jacket off yet.

“Open the bag.” You can’t help the excited smile and small clap of your hands as he reaches out and holds the bag. He gives you a quizzical look, but you only nod to encourage him.

Donghyuck unties the lace ribbon, looking down into the bag for a few moments. You can’t read his face and you can’t feel any emotions from him, and your anxiety grows tenfold. He reaches in and pulls out the little shoes, a light blue color with white stitching. They’re so small, they can sit in Donghuck’s hand perfectly.

“What are these?” He asks, still looking at the shoes in his hand.

“Well, they’re shoes… For babies. For our baby.”

At your reply, he does nothing. He doesn’t react at all, which only worsens your nerves and makes your leg twitch up and down as you wait for him to say something. He swallows and sets the shoes on the table, still looking at then with a blank expression.

“You’re pregnant?”

“Yeah…” You reply, reaching out to put a hand over Donghyuck’s, “Say something.”

“I’m not sure what to say, this is very… sudden.” He tilts his head. Your stomach drops at the lack of emotion in his voice. You aren’t sure what you were expecting, but it was not this stoic expression in his face. Whatever traces of a smile that you had on your lips vanishes and you grip his hand tighter.

“I know this is not what we had planned. I know this is kind of… not good timing, since we’re still in school and not married, yet. But this is what fate had planned for us, I guess?” You’re not sure if you’re trying to console him or convince him, but the icky feeling in your stomach tells you Donghyuck’s reaction to the situation is not good.

“Yeah, fate did us real good.” Donghyuck replies sarcastically and you drop your hands from his, resting them in your lap. You can see the tears forming in his eyes even when he tries to look away from you, and you can feel the fear that’s boiling and overflowing inside him.

“I know you’re scared, I’m scared too. But we can get through this to—” You’re suddenly cut off by Donghyuck standing up abruptly.

“I’m not scared. I’m worried.” He rubs his face with his hands. “I’m worried that I won’t be able to support this kid. I’m worried I won’t be able to be here for you through it all. I’m so worried I’m going to end up like my father that I feel like it’s going to eat me alive.” He runs his hands through his hair, pulling his head back as he looks at the ceiling and paces around the kitchen.

“I never knew your father, but from what you told me, you’re nothing like him.” You stand up too, your legs feeling like jello.

“No, you don’t understand. What if I say something wrong and ruin this kid’s life like my father did to me? What if I can’t find a job after we graduate? Are you going to support all three of us? I can’t let you live like my mom did, it was too hard to watch back then and it’ll be even harder to watch now.” He suddenly stops, not giving you a chance to speak as he looks from you, to the little shoes, and back to you. “I can’t.”

“You… can’t what?” There’s panic rising in your voice as he shakes his head and backs away.

“I can’t be here, not around you or this baby. I won’t be a good father.” He turns and walks out of the kitchen, leaving you standing dumbfounded with tears brimming in your eyes. You move to the front door, watching at Donghyuck’s shaking hands pick up his keys and wallet.

“Are you leaving me? Right now?” He doesn’t look at you and he doesn’t answer, opening the door, “Wait!” You cry out. He stops, his shoulders tense and his hand clenching the doorknob.

“What about that promise you made me? Huh? You said that it’s not just a ‘you’ or a ‘me’ now. It’s an ‘us.’ You said you’ll do everything you can to not hurt us.” You ask, recalling the promise Donghyuck made back when you two were young college students, and a promise he has repeated and vowed to you over and over again every time your relationship got into a rough patch.

“I think… that what I’m doing is what’s best for us. It’ll be better if I wasn’t here. ___...” He looks back at your teary eyed figure with one last look of regret, “I love you. I’m so sorry.” And with that, he closes the door, leaving you all alone in your cold and dark apartment.

You jumped off of the bridge. You jumped off a while ago, actually, but the fall took longer than you expected. You thought Donghyuck would be there to catch you at the bottom, but he’s nowhere to be seen now. The fall was peaceful and enjoyable, a soft limbo between making the hardest decision in your life and the ultimate consequence of that decision. The fall was long and made you feel faux comfort, so when you reached the very end, it ended up hurting a lot worse. You knew jumping off of a bridge would kill you, so why did you jump?

You’re not sure how long you stand by the front door, but it’s long enough that the sun sets outside and the room turns dark. You stare at the door, waiting for Donghyuck to come back. You wait for the door to open and for him to run through, hugging you and whispering that he’ll be here for you. You can only walk up to the door and slide down onto your knees, your forehead pressed against the cool wood as you wait.

Tears run down your cheeks silently, your eyes red and your head hurts. You keep your forehead pressed against the door for the whole night, waiting for him to come back. You wait, and wait, and wait. Donghyuck never comes back.

Your heart rips open from pain, it feels like it’s bleeding onto the floor in front of you. Your mind is numb from any other emotion, your body is cold from sitting on the floor, but you can’t get yourself to stand up. That’s when you realize, this is it. This is how Donghyuck hurts you.

What a sick and twisted way for fate to finally serve up her plan. You almost forgot who Donghyuck is supposed to be; the one who loves you, and the one who hurts you the most.

— read epilogue here

2K notes · View notes