#Any story that touches on the idea of finding joy for the future hits a sensitive spot to me

[maramirror11]

Neon Wings

These are just my thoughts on this AMAZING series and I don't have someone to dump this so here we go.

Spoiler warning for both The Neon Barbarian and Neon Wings.

I've never done this and English grammar isn't my strong point.

I wasn't expecting a sequel for TNB. But the world was too interesting to not make more. So, I was surprised that NW went in a different direction. It's Raven's story and it SHOWS.

I love how the audience is able to witness Raven's past and compare it with the present.

I enjoy making the backstories of Listeners based on the little information we have. However, it feels different to just hear about their past from BE THERE to understand what they went through.

Because for me the two series are one big story. Of course, you can see one and not the other. Still, it hits different when you see both.

I like the idea of Crow not going back. It'll defeat the purpose of the story. (Don't get me wrong I LOVE CROW, I MISS HIM). Yet, if he comes back, it'll be awkward since Raven is different. Time has moved on and he will be stuck in the past again.

For me, Raven changes from being someone open to knowing new people to becoming this person with emotional walls. In both she's still kind and a badass, but it's different.

It took her TWO days to give Ivan the pie unlike with Crow that it took a few hours to invite him to her house.

One of my favorite parts of this series were the moments Raven had a panic attack. Sure, almost every video has loud banging or shooting noises.

But with these ones, you can FEEL how UNCOMFORTABLE she is. How there is nowhere to run, no way to get the sound quiet down. How the sirens and shooting noises never left her head as she just stayed there, incapable to do something.

The way music is used is another favorite part. Out of Touch means so much for her, both good and bad. I forgot the music was playing WHILE Crow was being shot.

That's why in her nightmare, after Ivan gets shot, it sounds a distorted version. It's the story repenting itself all over again.

Just for her to claim the song while they fight against Luke. Love the detail. The final song Chicago was *chef kiss*. It's a new song for a new life and it fits PERFECTLY.

ALSO, THE FIGHTING AND SOLO SCENES OMGGG. You KNOW what Raven does and what they do to her, from hand to hand combat to guns.

Also, there are many scenes where she doesn't interact with anyone and still understand what happened. Like when she goes back home from the incident and just drops to her couch/bed.

Lemme talk about Ivan. I was surprised with Ivan's attitude. He is always calm and never actually cursed. I thought that his reaction to Raven's old job was something he was OK with but couldn't participate.

He's so kind with everyone and his struggle NOT TO drop facts about the things he likes is relatable. HE'S SO AFFECTIONATE WITH RAVEN AND PALOMA, I LOVE HIM.

At the end, he curses and gives effective strategies to kill the other mercenaries. On top of that, he ended up shooting someone, so I think I didn’t give Ivan enough credit.

The fact that he has a kind heart, doesn't mean he's not brave enough to protect the ones he cares about. They became The Power Couple. Relationship Goals indeed.

It was a hard task to give Raven another love interest since Crow is so loved by the fans. And I admit it was handled very well. For both Crow and Michelle.

I appreciate how Michelle is not a competition. For me, she had the right to be upset at the beginning. It was a dangerous and new situation. She just wanted to protect her family.

Probably Ivan talked to her and explained the situation better, since Michelle doesn't blame Raven again at the end.

My question right now is, WHY Raven took Ivan with her??? He can't run and doesn't have that much experience in combat.

Maybe they felt safe with each other. I mean, Raven IS a mercenary and fought 3 armed guys alone. Also, why was she so open to listen to Luke? He knows most about Para M and would benefit from her death. I still need to give it more thought.

There are still some things that kept me thinking about the other stuff that weren't shown. One is that Danny is never brought up again. I understand that she was not as important as Crow in the story but STILL.

She died saving her identity from Louis and now Raven takes care of her cat. I just wonder if Danny was for Raven, another victim of the circumstances or they were friends.

Also, the disaster that created the super genits (i'm sorry if I wrote it wrong) is never brought up again. But I think it's because it takes place far away from the original incident. Something that is never stated as well, are Danny and Crow buried somewhere?.

Lastly, I always keep this writing advice in mind. Characters of a story can't be the same at the beginning and at the end. The scene that brought me that thought was when Raven got shot. I'm pretty sure she couldn't hear Crow's words before this moment.

Seeing him one last time and being in the situation she wanted for so long, it shows how much she grew. Raven from the beginning would've accepted to die.

But she couldn't, there was something worth living for. Raven had her closure with her past and now it's ready for the future. IT MADE ME EMOTIONAL 😭.

Now Raven can live her life again the way she wants. She leaves her old name and life behind. Not seeing the next sunrise but to enjoy it as well.

It's like those stories even if you get spoilers, it's not the same as experience it.

That's all.

[drchucktingle]

mr. dr. chuck, i'm a few months ago i told a doc of mine that i believe i'm on the spectrum (after yeeeears of considering all the reasons why i thought so) and she agreed with me. then i came to some conclusions about members of my family. then i started melting down and haven't really recovered.

i'm in my 30's, but my life feels like it's been the mistake-addled 24th year for over a decade. people, choices, wants, they feel like things that were silly blips and not of much substance. i'm tired and my body hurts, so it feels harder to get to things i need. doctors don't seem like they can be trusted because of all the other ways i show up in the world.

i'm worried about my life and my future, and it feels like my magic is gone (or that i can't touch it right now). do you have any words of wisdom for someone who found out this really big thing about themselves kind of late?

thank you.

hello buckaroo thank you for writing. first of all i will say MOST IMPORTANT thing to remember is that it is okay and valid to FEEL the way that you feel. your reaction to this news or any news really is not wrong. that does not mean you cant wish for another reaction or WORK TOWARDS another reaction, but in grand cosmic sense this is just your way. YOUR TROT IS VALID and we all have our own unique way. sometimes that path is an easy path with sunny days and smiles and a glorious view, and sometimes it is through the darkness of shadows or crawling through the old bog. we can PREFER one path over the other, but neither is WRONG.

when giving advice old chuck tries to not PROJECT what i think YOU should do because that is not really the point. this is your trot to trot and i do not think it is my place to act like some authority of your way. what chuck can do is tell you MY story of diagnosis and how it made ME feel and maybe you can take little pieces of that for yourself.

chuck learned of way on autism spectrum when i was in early twenties by doctor who said 'yes this is your way'. when i learned of my spectrum way my reaction was: wow this is very very cool i am so lucky because all of my heroes are autistic and now i am in this RADICAL CLUB. we are special and unique and DANG what a treat wish i could have a membership card in my wallet to show all my buds.

now obviously this is not everyones reaction, but as starting off point i wonder what it would have meant to my future if the news would have HIT ME IN A BAD WAY. if i would have felt let a dang robot alien who didnt belong. maybe id be swimmin through the bog ever since.

thing is I LIKE ROBOT ALIENS they are very cool. doctor did not MAKE me different, i was different already, our talks just popped a nice little name on it for me to take or leave. i took the name proudly because DATA from stars trek (certified robot alien) is exactly how i already felt and dang what a cool character and dang what a great life. so was DAVID BYRNE. so was every cool buckaroo artist that i liked. cowboys are OUTSIDER HEROES and that is how my autism makes me feel.

so like i said, i do not know about YOUR way, but MY WAY of hearing this news was heaps of joy and excitement. i will also say that it is very DIFFICULT to find this reaction later if your first leap is feeling in a sad way about it. so maybe if you want to trot back in your mind to those first few steps it would be helpful. maybe mentally trot to where you were pushed off a dang cliff and think "well was i pushed off a cliff or was i just told 'hey bud youve been floating this whole time?"'

because if youve been floating then DANG thats a lot of power. thats not falling. you can float up, you can float down, you can float side to side.

the next thing i will say AS AND ARTIST is that years of toiling and feeling aimless are NEVER actually aimless when it comes to creation. and to LIVE in a human body is to be an artist, because you are CONSTANTLY CREATING the future. when i am writing and i dont have an idea for my next book that can be frustrating, but it is also PART of the process. if i walk to the store to rustle up my mind, or wander around the park, or spend a whole WEEK feeling weird because of writers block THAT IS ALL PART OF MAKING GREAT ART. that is not wasted time. in other words, your years of toiling are not wasted time, that is just the process we all have when we are creating a future masterpiece.

[greentrickster]

Canceling Internal Cringe Culture to Start Writing

Okay, I just got asked on AO3 about how to start writing in the face of cringe culture, especially the internalized sort, and I have a feeling this might be applicable to more than one person. So I’m gonna share what I told them with all of you as well! Here it goes:

Hmmm, this one's actually a little hard? Just because I've been writing for over twenty years now, and when I started, cringe culture just... high-key didn't exist. Neither did AO3. Tumblr was Right Out.

All that said... hmm... well first? Instead of using any sort of app or program, get a notebook - whatever floats your boat (I like to use ones with nice pictures on the front, but my sister uses those little pocket-sized ones) - and write in that instead. Even if you're not used to writing like that, give it a try anyway, because writing in a book makes it private, makes it personal, makes it just for you. And if it's just for you, then who cares if it's cringe? It's for you, no one else, and it's makes you happy, which is much more important! I like to use pens with green ink in my writing books. It sparks joy and adds an extra layer of good to the process. It may be slower, but it’s also an activity and movement that’s completely disconnected from all the nonsense on the internet, which can hopefully make it easier to ignore all that.

(If the page looks too big and blank and intimidating, I suggest adding stickers or a silly sketch or something. You can write around them, it’s fine.)

Just as important? Love what you're writing. This isn't 'content' or a product, this is a story or a poem or a memory. This is something you're writing down because you want to remember it. So love it. Indulge yourself, then indulge yourself more. Put everything you want to see into this, because you're also sitting in the audience, a very eager audience member and- hey, what do you know? The audience-member-who-is-you also just happens to be an up-and-coming new producer, everything they touch has been a hit so far, and they're taking an interest in your work. They think there could be something special there, that you, yes you, could be the next big thing. So be super sure to cater directly to this audience-member-who-is-also-you, it could lead places in the future.

Another thing that I find surprisingly helpful? The concept that there are no original ideas left in the world. A lot of creatives find this one super demoralizing or depressing, but I find it encouraging. Because it means, if I've had an idea, then someone else has had it, too. And that someone else probably wants to see it, even if they've made their own version of the idea. Heck, there could be a lot of someones! And they're cheering for you, so go for it!

And finally, the hardest part... you have to make a choice. Which do you care about more: listening to the part that cringes or writing? You can't care about both equally. You just can't. Writing is a lot of fun, but, like any creative form, it's also a lot of work. I didn't sit down and start writing at my current skill level, this is the result of two decades of practice, polishing, and honing my abilities. Looking back, the amount of work I put into all this is kind of staggering. But I didn't do it because 'I have to' or 'it's necessary.' I did it because I love writing, because I knew I could get better and I wanted to. And yeah, sometimes that involved doing stuff that was scary. There will always be aspects of it that are scary. I still get scared when I introduce certain new aspects to this fic, or enter new fandoms, or try something different. Writing can be hard and scary, that's just part of it. But the idea of not writing... that's so much worse.

You're starting in a really rough time for beginner creatives. Cringe culture, purity culture, cancel culture... all disgusting trends that need to end yesterday, if not sooner. It can be hard and scary to try because of all that. So step away from all that, take a chance somewhere private and safe that's just for you, and be brave. Choose to please yourself before anyone else. Love your stories, your characters, and the part of you that loves them, and take that first step. The best time to start a new project was probably yesterday, but the second best time to start one is always now. ;)

[ledenews]

Santorine: You've Been Changed!

It’s graduation time! It's that time of the year when young men and women upend what they have known for the past four years, leaving friends and familiar surroundings behind and step into an unfamiliar, yet exciting future. The past pulls hard on all of us, but the future is full of new friends, new experiences and really cool projects to be part of. So here are my musings and thoughts for this weekend’s graduates, in no particular order. You’re in the people business! There are 8,760 hours in a year, and you’ll likely spend more than half of them with people. People like you. People unlike you. Find joy in them. Remember that people like to work with people they like. Smile, dammit. Walking back to the car after a middle school chorale concert the other night, and all we saw were frowns. I prefer smiling and laughing. Most people do. If you didn’t grow up with a tradition of charity, now is the time to get one. It does not need to be financial in nature. Your time is valuable. Priceless, actually. Get with it, and be part of it. You’ll meet really amazing people there, and you’ll make a difference. Have two books that you’re reading at all times. It’s a lifelong commitment. One that you enjoy, and that could be a novel or for a hobby. The other is for your vocation at the time. Interesting people never, ever stop learning. Accept that organizations call forth the worst in human nature and be liberated by that knowledge. All organizations - your work, your church - all of them. Emphasis on being liberated. Endeavor to change what you can, and deal with what you can’t. Mistakes are OK. If you’re not making them, you’re not doing anything. Keep you and yours on top of a financial cushion. It’s that important. Seek out worthy allies and earn their allegiance. You are truly the average of the five people you spend the most time with. Choose well and carefully. There are 24 hours in a day. You get 8 for work, 8 for play and 8 for sleep and meals. Not a bad deal when you think about it. No, you can’t get by on 4 hours of sleep. Sooner or later it’s going to catch up with you. One of the greatest gifts I give myself is no alarm clock, and I had to retire to get to that. I wake up naturally about 7 hours after my head hits the pillow. For parts of my life it was 8 hours, others 6, but never less. It’s good. Refuse to be ordinary - pursue excellence and kill it. Own stuff. Don’t let it own or define you. Ever. Touch “communities” Your church community? Your hobby community? Your charity community? Join up with like-minded people. Like school, all of them are a place to learn without repercussions. You’ll provide value, and the value you receive is the soft stuff that surrounds the hard stuff. We multiply our effectiveness by working together with others. Don’t be judgmental. You have two ears and one mouth. Do twice as much listening. People don’t care about how much you know, until the know how much you care. If not you, who? If not now, when? Learn to tell stories well. Your stories. Look at any prospective spouses parents. Realize you’re going to get a bigger part of how they act than you ever expected. People can change themselves. You can’t change them. What you think you want to do might not be what you want to do. Some of the most interesting people I know didn’t know what they wanted to be when they were 40. They figured it out by doing things. Almost always, the easy thing to do is the wrong thing to do. Develop your sense of humor. I’ve covered a lot of ideas here, and they are not necessarily connected. Consider a few. Or more than a few of them. They will make a difference for you. Go forth. There are no wrong decisions regardless of what your aunt tells you.  No timetable, either. You don’t need to own a home by the time you’re 25. New cars are overrated. You do need to be creating a vibrant, interesting you. Only YOU can do that. There are decades of an amazing journey ahead of you. Take joy in all you do, be well and have fun. Graduation is a demarcation point, but more importantly, crossing that line is the start of something wondrous and new. But if there is one on this list that will do the most to effect your life, get some sleep. Graduates - You got this. Read the full article

[yurimother]

The Best Yuri of 2020

2020 was hell in every way, and many of us are looking forward to new possibilities and advances in 2021. However, the year brought us many small moments and gifts worth celebrating. Among these, the explosive growth and change within the Yuri genre are among the most precious and most outstanding achievements. This second century of Yuri opened with a bang, as phenomenal new works, creators, and moments made their mark and helped change the future genre.

This annual list is a celebration of just a handful of the fantastic titles, people, and events in Yuri. There are likely some even greater ones that did not make the list because there is so much content in both English and Japanese that even I cannot keep up. However, among the troves of treasure, these titles stood out as shining examples of Yuri excellence. Some were released this year, others were recently adapted into English, and still, others are established titles that rose to prominence to dominate the conversation and my mind this year, but every one of them is worthy of being on this list and in your heart.

Here is the Best Yuri of 2020!

15: The Curse of Kudan Remastered

Japanese Yuri visual novel developers show no sign of slowing down as they continue to push to new heights and try new ideas. These are the same amazing people who brought us the delightful educational Yuri game The Expression Amrilato and the hilarious and surprisingly queer OshiRabu: Waifus Over Husbando’s. However, this most recent release, The Curse of Kudan Remastered, is their best work yet. Released near Halloween, this game brings a new edge of dark mystery and the occult to Yuri audiences worldwide.

The Curse of Kudan is available on MangaGamer, JAST USA, Denpasoft, and Sekai Project.

14: Adachi and Shimamura

English audiences were finally treated this year to Hitoma Iruma’s long-running and wildly successful Yuri light novel series, Adachi and Shimamura. Although the story struggles to gain traction, dedicated readers’ have their patience rewarded with a sweet tale full of gay pining. Alternatively, you can jump into its stellar anime adaptation, with gorgeous visuals and realized characters you will actually be willing to put up with the annoying Yashiro just to see where the title characters go. The series shows no sign of slowing down either, as the manga adaptation is coming to Western audiences next year.

Adachi and Shimamura is available to stream on Funimation. The light novel series is published by Seven Seas - https://amzn.to/3rTSZTK

Honorable Mention: Happy Go Lucky Days

The OVA adaptation of Fragtime got most of the attention this year. Still, director Takuya Satou and Pony Canyon also gave us this much-overlooked “love is love” anthology movie based on Takako Shimura’s manga (Sweet Blue Flowers, Wandering Son). The first short in the film, “Happy,” is easily the best Yuri anime of the year. It follows the beautiful yet realistic queer love story of two women hooking up at a mutual ex-girlfriend’s wedding, only for the relationship to blossom and warm viewers’ hearts. Sadly, while stylized, the budget demanded the animation cut a few too many corners. Additionally, the subsequent stories are at best tedious and at worst alarmingly problematic, which is why Happy Go Lucky Days only gets an honorable mention.

The OVA is streaming on HIDIVE

13: Mieri Hiranishi

The Yuri scene has many colorful creators with a breadth of different ideas and stories in the genre, yet few have provided as much humor and joy as Mieri. This talented creator spectacularly tumbled into the scene with her manga essay The Moment I Realized I Wasn’t Straight, which embodies the brutal honesty and realism of Nagata Kabi and matches it with exaggerated hilarity. She continues to chronicle her painful struggles of being a butch girl in love with butch girls in the monthly series The Girl that Can’t Get a Girlfriend. Alternatively, you can follow her on Twitter for just as much heart and laughter.

Read The Girl that Can’t get a Girlfriend on Tapas and Webtoon.

12: My Next Life as a Villainess: All Routes Lead to Doom!

My Next Life as a Villainess has what can only be described as volcanic bisexual energy. Every character protagonist Catarina Claes encounters is entirely enthralled by her. Of course, she is far too preoccupied with her quest to avoid doom flags and change her ultimate fate to notice any romantic interest. The series is rewarding and well structured, as views are just as focused on how Catarina plans to avoid certain doom as they are with the various romantic misses her band of companions cooks up. While the “friendship ending” did not capitalize on its Yuri potential, it was perhaps the most satisfying possibility for this crazy harem, at least until season two comes out, which looks, unfortunately, to be significantly less queer.

My Next Life as a Villainess is streaming on Crunchyroll

11: Love Me for Who I Am

Kata Konayama’s manga series is less Yuri than a general LGBT work, but it has a lesbian character and explores her identity and struggles in great detail. Few titles before have captured the exciting and nervous waves of emotions that young people feel as they explore gender and sexual identities and try to find themselves. This heartfelt and extremely queer series rubberbands between cute moe dress up to tragic and gripping backstory, keeping readers on their toes the whole time.

Love me for Who I Am is published by Seven Seas - https://amzn.to/3rTSZTK

10: A Summer’s End – Hong Kong 1986

Oracle and Bone’s debut visual novel, A Summer’s End, is set in a vibrant and electric 1980’s Hong Kong. Drawing inspiration from classic Asian cinema, music, and fashion. The worlds of Michelle, a young office worker, and a free-spirited woman named Same collide. The two struggle to comprehend and accept each other’s feelings just as they struggle against society’s expectations and prejudices. An incredibly thoughtful and touching adventure, the creators incorporated vital contemporary elements include Asian LGBTQ rights and growing political unrest in Hong Kong, into this illustrious game.

The visual novel is available on Steam.

Honorable Mention: Goodbye, My Rose Garden

In the same vein as A Summer’s End, Goodbye, My Rose Garden is a beautiful period piece that incorporates LGBT views into its shattering narrative. The story follows a bright-eyed immigrant, Hanako, wanting to make a new life in England as an author at the dawn of the twentieth century. She takes a job as a maid to noblewoman Alice, but their relationship takes a turn when Alice asks Hanako to kill her. This poignant tale is beautiful and an honest depiction of love and its conflict with responsibility and society.

Goodbye, My Rose Garden is published by Seven Seas Entertainment - https://amzn.to/3hFSyaG

9: Shio Usui

Usui’s hit Shaikaijin Yuri manga Doughnuts Under a Crescent Moon could easily take this spot even though it is not even out in English until February 2021. The manga is already making waves and receiving constant praise. The characters and their journey to discover love and self-acceptance are as charming as they are relatable and grounded. However, it is the creator, Usui, who really deserves acclaim. Not just for their work on Doughnuts, but having a second serialized story, Onna Tomodachi to Kekkon Shitemita, in monthly Yuri magazine Comic Yuri Hime simultaneously. It is even more remarkable when you consider these two iconic stories are Usui’s first long-running works, as they only contributed one-shots before.

8: Bloom Into You: Regarding Saeki Sayaka

Bloom Into You is possibly the most iconic Yuri series in the past decade, and while the manga deserves its own place on this list, the best thing to come out of the series as a whole is easily the light novels. This trilogy by Adachi and Shimamura creator Hitoma Iruma dives deep into supporting cast member Sayaka. Readers are treated to a delightful journey as she discovers her sexuality, experiences heartbreak, and finally finds herself breaking free and falling in love. With the help of gorgeous illustrations by Nakatani Nio herself, Iruma masterfully captures Sayaka’s unique voice and emotions in this wonderful series. Whether a fan of the originals or not, every Yurijin must check out Regarding Saeki Sayaka.

The light novel series is published by Seven Seas - https://amzn.to/3hFSyaG

7: Our Teachers are Dating

The best a Yuri can get. This workplace romance follows two teachers at the start of a new relationship taking nervous yet enthusiastic first steps, including saying I love you, going on their first date, and even sleeping together. It is so heartfelt and salacious that readers will squeal the whole time. Additionally, our heroines are supported in their relationship by everyone they know, their students, colleagues, and even the principal. It is a perfect world for these two lovebirds! Our Teachers are Dating would easily be number one or two in any other year, but the competition is fierce in 2020. So even though this is only number seven, it is still a master class Yuri manga.

The manga is published by Seven Seas Entertainment - https://amzn.to/38XY3O9

6: Amongst Us

Who would have thought that a comedy alternative universe story spinoff of a fantasy action series would be the single best Yuri webcomic this year? Shilin’s astounding artwork illustrations the hilarious and irresistible journey of girlfriends Blackbird and Veloce. These two eccentric young women get into all kinds of everyday mischief that bounces between tender and touching romance, completely outrageous comedy, and downright thirst-inducing sorcery. Seriously, you should buy the first volume for Veloce’s back muscles alone. The storyline skips between time, but both their established relationship and their meeting as teenagers are adorkable and captivating.

Amongst Us is available online free on Webtoon and the comic’s website. The first volume is in paperback on Shilin’s site.

Honorable Mention: Éclair

There are a lot of Yuri anthologies out there, and they have done some beautiful things. Many focus on themes like Syrup. Others collect a series of stories by an author into one bound work. However, out of all of them, Éclair is the most successful. ASCII Media Works took some of the genre’s most extraordinary creators and let them do whatever they wanted, and the results are spectacular. The incredible talent behind Éclair somehow packs a full volume’s worth of story and character into just a few pages with every chapter. While the first volume came overseas a few years ago, Yen Press gave Yurijin a gift this year by releasing the entire rest of the series in which readers can get lost.

The anthology series is published by Yen Press - https://amzn.to/38XY3O9

5: I’m in Love with the Villainess

A small trend of isekai Yuri with villainesses emerged recently, and I honestly had few hopes of I’m in Love with the Villainess. The series is pretty popular, but I often find that this does not denote quality, and with isekai having some institutional issues, I suspected this would fall flat. Then the volume three cover showcased an incredible accomplishment, allowing for a lesbian relationship to blossom into a family with children, and it blew me away. Finally, I read volume one and realized that the series has incredible character, some of the best world-building I have ever seen in a light novel, thoughtful discussions of inequality and societal issues, and most impressively, open and frank discussion of queer identity and life Yuri has ever seen! This one is something special.

The series is published by Seven Seas Entertainment - https://amzn.to/3nedvdZ

4: The Last of Us Part II

Yes, I know this one is not Yuri and that a portion of the population despises this game and will likely be exceptionally angry at me for including it. However, I maintain that it was an incredibly challenging masterpiece. Naughty Dog did not take the easy route out and delivered one of the most devastating media experiences I have ever seen. As I said in my article about the game, playing it changed me, and it sticks with me to this day. The Last of Us Part II earns its spot on this list because it pushed boundaries more with LGBTQ inclusion than any other AAA game. From brave inclusion of LGBTQ themes to queer characters and storylines at its center, the game changes gaming and it will never go back.

The Last of Us Part II is available on PlayStation 4

3: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power

She-Ra feels like the culmination of all the LGBTQ progress western cartoons have made over the past few years. From The Legend of Korra to Steven Universe, young people are finally seeing more LGBTQ people represented on the small screen. This epic fantasy concluded with an amazing and powerful lesbian romance, delivering on its queer promise and revolutionized representation in a trope-defying crescendo.

She-Ra and the Princesses of Power is streaming on Netflix

2:  The Conditions of Paradise

The greatest single Yuri work of all in 2020 was the English release of Akiko Morishima’s breakthrough manga, The Conditions of Paradise. Initially released in 2007, this anthology detailed the love between adult women. It was in every way a manga ahead of its time, and seeing it finally get a small piece of the recognition it deserves overseas is a true gift. The fact that we can own this legendary piece of Yuri history and Morishima’s other anthologies is nothing short of a blessing from the Yuri goddess.

The Conditions of Paradise is published by Seven Seas Entertainment - https://amzn.to/38bh4xq

Honorable Mention: Otherside Picnic

This eerie sci-fi horror series combines the best of pulse-pounding thrillers, complex and intelligent hard science fiction, and exciting Yuri romance. Author Iori Miyazawa spends as much time crafting a well-paced and intriguing narrative about a mysterious world where occult creatures roam as he does establishing two believable and grounded heroes in Sorawo and Toriko. The romance between the two may be slow to start, but their chemistry is undeniable and as the stakes and story build, so too does their relationship. Not only are the light novels incredible, but the series’ manga adaptation is coming soon to the West as well as an upcoming TV anime in early 2021.

Otherside Picnic is streaming on Funimation. The light novels are published by J-Novel Club - https://amzn.to/3niiv1g

1. Yuri subgenres

For a long time, Yuri was not a genre of its own, but elements of romances or bonds between women found in other works. Now, thanks to an increasing library of works, the advent of social media, and a wider audience, Yuri is a genre on its own, with many creators telling different stories in different styles. However, 2020 saw the continued emergence of something extraordinary, subgenres. Yuri is now so vast, we can actually categorize the works within. Depending on their characters, like classic schoolgirl romances or spicy shakaijin office affairs, their world, such as fantasy or isekai series and thrilling science fiction adventures, and even other elements within. One of my personal favorites is the feminist Yuri that emerges from titles like Sexiled, where women celebrate the accomplishments of other women and dismantle power structures stacked against them. Now, no matter what kind of Yurijin you are, there is something for you to love.

I am happy to leave 2020 behind, but I bring with me a renewed love and admiration for Yuri. 2021 looks to be a somehow even better year for the genre, and I am thrilled to experience every minute of it that I can. Yuri has transformed into something far greater than I ever thought it would be, and let us all enjoy its evolution and expansion together in 2021.

[alluringjae]

it’s a royal order - jjh

⤑ summary: one of your royal campaigns became a success, and your bodyguard jaehyun was there to see it all happen. it’s only fair to celebrate, right?

⤑ pairing: jaehyun x female reader

⤑ word count: 2k

⤑ genre: fluff, suggestive (dirty talk, jaehyun got a daddy kink, superiority complex!!), implied smut | bodyguard!jaehyun, princess!reader, slight enemies to lovers!au, modern royal!au (where south korea remains under monarchial power)

⤑ warnings: mentions of alcohol, drugs, family problems and therapy, explicit language

⤑ playlist: lows by pink sweat$ | céline by gallant | i put a spell on you by iza | nasty by ariana grande | dance for you by beyonce | body by sinead harnett

⤑ author’s note: this is definitely less emotional than all i do is wait! i got this idea from a show i really enjoyed before it got cancelled named the royals. specifically, i really liked the story of eleanor and jasper, which is the whole princess x bodyguard dynamic. the pining and tension, ugh! if you know this show or not, it doesn’t matter. anyways, thank you for the 30+ followers and 200 notes on aidiw! enjoy!

i need holy water because of this piece.

⤑ credits to jeongjaehyuns for the gif above uwu

⤑  leave me some feedback, constructive criticism or hellos!

“On behalf of the royal family, I would like to extend my utmost support for the Anti-School Violence campaign for all students to have a safer and more meaningful learning environment.” You proudly announced to the board of officials alongside other influential individuals in Korean society.

Being the only princess in the current royal line may have its pressures, but holding a strong, direct impact for a brighter future for the people motivated you to take advantage of your platform for the better. As the image of pure innocence and revamped women empowerment, you aimed to accomplish all the things your mother wished she could before her untimely death alongside your personal aspirations.

Expressing genuine joy with the campaign, with a tinge of desire to annoy the old-fashioned and closeminded officials, your prying eyes were more enamored by a certain man in the back clapping by the ballroom doors. You can’t help but act flustered whenever he witnessed you in a state of success and satisfaction.

This man went by the name Jeong Jaehyun, your trusted bodyguard since you were in your early twenties. 3 years later, he still stuck by your side and helped you endure all the darkness as a royal.

Back then, you went through a rebellious phase that was ruining the image of your family. Clubbing almost every night, drugs, skipping school, you even managed to get all assigned bodyguards to quit! The media ate up all your tricks, turning them into scandals. That was the plan, of course. You desired your own freedom from all the royal obligations because you didn’t ask to be born into that lifestyle. To all of your peers who wished to be in your footsteps, you would’ve impulsively passed your title to them. There’s so much deception that lies behind the glitz and glam of it all.

This unexpected change in your former untainted attitude came to the point that your father, the king himself, stepped in and personally assigned one of his men to get you in check. He figured that appointing a guard nearest your age may lessen the tension and mend you back together.

In the start, you absolutely despised him. There was no way to fool him when you were up to no good. He easily found your alcohol and drug stash which he disposed of on the spot and stood by your bedroom door every night so you wouldn’t sneak out past curfew (which your father also strictly implemented).

One big turning point in your relationship was when he rushed you to the royal hospital when you drank a cocktail that went unnoticeably spiked. To think that this was a typical social gathering with other royals and officials, you’re a constant target to many. You didn’t wake up for a few days, and the entire time, Jaehyun willingly stood by your bedside and outside your hospital room.

Since that and more instances your father insisted you get involved in royal affairs, you softened up. As cliché as it was, the more time spent with him, the more you knew about him and vice versa. He was the one that got you to fully open up about your grief towards your late mother, encouraging you to seek help. Turns out you weren’t as different as you thought despite your differing ranks in society when he also had a void for a missing parent. In his case, it was his father, who ditched his family for his mistress. Silently, you helped each other recover from your traumas alongside therapy. From dreading his presence, you started treating him more casually. Your father’s tactic of assigning a bodyguard around your age admittedly worked.

Oh, how time flies.

This campaign was the last thing on your weekend agenda, so you had the entire late afternoon and evening to yourself. Bowing one last time to the audience, you stepped down from the platform and accepted the soft hand of your bodyguard, who quickly made his way to you despite the flashing cameras. It was something he got used to as it is part of the job.

Once he successfully ushered you out of the ballroom, his hand still held yours. Nothing new, except this event was quite public and you didn’t want anyone to get any wrong ideas. Strolling down one of the many hallways in the palace became a pastime for the both of you, where no one can catch you. It was a safe haven within the destructive life of the Park kingdom.

“You did phenomenal as I expected, your highness.” Jaehyun complimented, recalling your panic the night before as the stage fright hit strong when you were reciting your speech to him over and over again.

“We are in private, Jaehyun. Must you really use those formalities with me?” You taunted, bobbing your head sideways mockingly. With him could you felt like a normal young adult, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. Jaehyun loved being frisky with you, catching you get irked up. And he was up to do it again.

“Hmm last time we strolled these halls, Yuta caught us making out after a successful meeting with the Prime Minister.”

You gasped at his statement, conscious of whoever may be in the vicinity. But before you could refute, your hand that was interlocked with his were mightily slammed against the white wall. You lost your breath for a moment, his warm body closely on yours. His free hand freely roamed up and down your covered waist. His lips were dangerously near your neck, where you’re sensitive. Your hips naturally grinded against him to release the pent-up tension.

“Something tells me you want to do it again, princess?” Now he’s just using your title as a pet name, but you couldn’t complain. It just hits differently when the situation was set up like this.

“I deserve it, don’t I? Got a lot of those hell-driven officials on my side for this round.” You raised both your brows cockily, licking your lips.

“Hell yeah, you do.” Finally, he rids of the tension and plants open kisses on your bare neck. Your throaty moans were uncontrollable, and you could care less.

“My princess,”

Kiss.

“So intelligent,”

Kiss.

“So benevolent,”

Kiss.

“So helpful,”

Kiss.

“But,” He changed his pace and direction, swollen lips near your ear.

“But?” You question naïvely. He scoffed, smirking at your antics of playing dumb.

“But a total slut for her bodyguard.” He dominantly planted his lips against yours, one of his veiny hands gripping on your waist and the other by the arch of your butt. He was hungry, needy even. Due to your shared schedules, it’s been a constant struggle to have proper alone time from the snooping eyes of Korean society. After all, it wasn’t in the norm for a princess to fall deep for her bodyguard. Nor were you sure you would be accepted by anyone. Yuta, the bodyguard of your oldest brother, the crowned prince Jinyoung, finding the both of you at that time was a total shock but didn’t care either.

All that mattered was that your feelings towards each other are real and strong. Accepted or not, you had each other.

All this lust put you in a daze, wanting much more than another smooch fest in the hallway. Tugging on his belt, he squeezed your butt tightly. You emitted a moan, which allowed his tongue access. No way could you keep your hands to yourself, touching his upper body and the flexing of his abdominal muscles from his button-up. You felt his now hard member poking through.

Analyzing your area, you were on the other side of the palace. Farther to your bedroom where numerous rendezvouses were made, one kink you’ve considered in the past amplified your mind. Considering this area was also the king’s side, and he was abroad for royal affairs, this was your chance.

“I have an idea, my love. You up for it?” You rose a brow at your lover, challenging him. Not one to overpower this man in bed, but always suggesting a way on how to spice it up.

“And what exactly does your feral brain want to do with me, princess?” His finger lifted your chin so you meet eye to eye. You can just see the fire still burning, and oh how you were ready to intensify it.

“The main ballroom, where my father and late mother’s throne rest, are a few doors away.” Your fingers signal him to lower his stance as his tall height was difficult to reach. With a sneaky smirk,

“Let me ride you in the king’s throne, my love.” Your lips brushed over his and sucked his bottom lip, tugging him by his belt. He groaned, squeezing your butt. “It’s a royal order.”  

“Nasty, your highness. Insanely nasty, you are.” His hands hoisted your waist, boosting you up in his arms. You gasped with profanities, ravenously cut off by his lips again. His nails digging deep in your bare thighs, your legs naturally linked themselves around his torso while your arms passionately intertwined his broad neck.

In between kisses, he carried you to the said main ballroom. One of your wildest imaginations, just a second away. This room remained to be the only place without any guards stationed technological advancements or updated interior designs to preserve its traditional beauty. Dated as far as the 19th century, only special events were held and the highest of the high were allowed inside. Spacious, surrounded by gold linings majestic paintings of angels from above with a huge crystal chandelier right above the center. Right ahead, the original thrones that your ancestors, grandparents, and parents sat on when they were throned in its pure glory.

Pushing your lover on the king’s throne, the gold sun-like rays plastered behind the headrest, he cockily leaned back and manspread his legs for comfort. He rubbed his hands before patting his thigh, waiting for your submission. But you weren’t going to give in just yet.

Not when you prepared a mini-show just for him underneath your designer silk dress.

Jaehyun’s solemn eyes marveled over your gorgeous figure as you stripped down one strap after the other. Due to its silk fabric, it effortlessly dropped down to your figure to reveal a new set of black lace lingerie from your previous trip to Paris. Ages ago, Jaehyun unhesitatingly ripped your favorite ones during his birthday, so you decided to get a mature version of it. A version where your bra lifted your breasts more and undies hiked up to your waist to elongate your legs. Only for the eyes of yourself and the man in front of you, establishing that you were a powerful woman who can be absolutely anyone she can be. Princess, a normal young adult, or his slut, it’s up to you how you see yourself.

Jaehyun mumbled all the profanities he could think of at the moment. Looking like a divine angel when the sun from outside shuns behind you, his slacks tightening so much more than a while ago.

“All this for me?” He ogled shamelessly, undoing the buttons of his dress shirt and untying his necktie. “What did I do to deserve such regal treatment?”

You sneered at his comment, stepping out your dress in your heels and stationing right in front of his luring lap. “You’ve always been there for me, thick and thin. I think you deserve a reward, don’t you think?”

Lowering yourself to straddle him, his breath hissed when your damp core collided with his crotch. Distracted and caught in your trap, “I don’t think you answered my question, my love.”

Rather than a verbal response, he roughly pulled you back in for a kiss. His hands scattered to explore from your back down to your waist. Your hands messily ran through his hair, tugging on some when your body got too sensitive to his wild touches. The thrilling sounds of the two of you drowning in your fiery romance bounced throughout the ballroom, not minding if anyone passed by the hallways outside. It was a private room after all, and whatever happens here, stays here.

Rolling on his crotch while his lips trailed down to your collarbones, the quick snap of your bra wires echoed. The tight lift lessened as Jaehyun’s fingers dropped the straps, unveiling your bare chest covered in his marks.

“Enough playing, princess. Let daddy have some real fun with you.”

[soobmint]

voices | choi beomgyu [f] soulmates! au, 14.2k words

s u m m a r y : after seeing your soulmate for the first time (whether in passing or by actually meeting them), you are able to hear their voice in your head—but only when they are singing. you have never been very interested in finding love, and choi beomgyu has lost all interest in singing. what happens when the two of you begin to change one another’s minds about the things you wish to avoid more than anything else?

c o n t e n t s : soulmates au, strangers to sorta enemies to lovers, guitarist! gyu, freckle gyu, college au, yeonjun is your best friend, gyu is a brat but a cute brat, very fluffy, a tiny bit of light angst

t a g l i s t : @hyuckworld @chanluster @honeyju​ @magicalstellar @yeonjuniper​ (if you’d like to be added to the taglist for future oneshots, please let me know!)

n o t e : this was requested by my dear friend alice, and i hope i did the request justice! the lyrics used in the oneshot are from genius’ english translation of “runaway.” i hope you guys enjoy the oneshot, and do kindly leave a like, comment, or reblog if you enjoyed it! that would mean the world!

YOU MET CHOI BEOMGYU THE DAY YOU SWORE TO NEVER FALL IN LOVE.

 As dramatic as it sounded, the day hadn’t been quite so terrible. You were sitting cross-legged in the floor of one of the many practice rooms in your university’s music department with a bag of popcorn in your lap, your head leaned back against the wall as you stifled back a yawn. Your best friend, Yeonjun, was going on and on about his most recent breakup, but the story was so similar to all the other breakups he had gone through in the past two years that you were having a difficult time staying focused. The afternoon sunlight trickled in through the windows, reflecting off the symbols of the drum set that rested in the far corner. You scooted to the side a bit so that the light wouldn’t shine in your eyes anymore as Yeonjun paced back and forth in front of you.

 “And then she just stopped talking to me,” He said, running his hands through his hair. “Out of nowhere too! Things had been going so well, but then it was weird. Next thing I know, she’s breaking up with me—get this—over text.”

 You tossed a piece of popcorn into your mouth. “Tragic.”

 “I know you’re being sarcastic, but yes, it was tragic.” He finally stopped pacing and collapsed to the ground beside of you, leaning his head against your shoulder. “Love is so hard. You meet someone, you think it’s going to work and that you’ll spend a long, happy life together. Next thing you know, you’re single and stuck with your best friend in a stinky music room, waiting for some club meeting to start—or whatever it is we’re in here for.”

 “We’re here because we are in charge of organizing the music and theater departments’ performance at the open house next month,” You corrected, flicking his forehead. “And didn’t you only date this girl for like, a week?”

 He sighed, sitting up to glare at you. “Love knows not the boundaries of time, my dear friend. You’ll understand once you find it for yourself.”

 “Calm down, Shakespeare. I am not falling in love.”

 “Unfortunately for you, I don’t think you have any control over that,” He said with a teasing smile. “But why wouldn’t you want to?”

 You scoffed, turning to stare at him. “Well, for starters, you haven’t exactly given me a good idea of what ‘love’ is supposed to be, seeing as you’re crying about another ‘true-love-gone-wrong’ every three weeks. Why on earth would I want that for myself?”

 “Hey, love is different for everyone,” He said. “Just because my love life is vibrant and exciting and full of various names and faces doesn’t mean the same will happen for you.”

 “How do you predict my love life will go, then?”

 He hummed, tapping his finger against his chin in thought. “Well, you’re pretty boring, so you’ll probably be the kind of person that waits until they find their soulmate, then you’ll settle down and live a long, safe and uneventful life with them.”

 “Shut up,” you said as you shoved him, but you couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled out of you. “I think my soulmate is out of the question, though.”

 Yeonjun frowned. “You still haven’t heard him since back then?”

 You sighed, shaking your head as you leaned back against the wall. “Not a thing.”

 It was quiet then as the two of you thought about what this meant. It wasn’t the first time you had been faced with the reality of your situation, but it still felt like a punch to the stomach every time.

 In a world where people waited years, decades even, to hear the voice of their soulmate singing in their head, you had been considered extremely lucky to have heard the gentle voice of a boy in your mind at the age of thirteen. You knew that you had to have met him somewhere—at least in passing—in order to hear him, but you had no clue who he was.

 Yet, in a way, it felt like you did. He sang often—so often you wondered if singing was as necessary as breathing to him. It wasn’t a bother to you though; in fact, it was quite the opposite. The songs he sang always told a story; some spoke of love and joy, others off loss and heartache. You felt like each song he sang held a piece of him, and that piece was something that was shared just between the two of you.

 Until his voice was gone.

 It was rare for him to go a day without singing. Yet suddenly, in your sophomore year of college, days and weeks went by without a single note, and you had yet to hear his voice since.

 Your soulmate had stopped singing, and it was difficult to not imagine that the worst had happened.

 Yeonjun must have noticed the solemn look that came over your face, because he leaned over and gave your shoulder a squeeze. “Don’t be so gloomy,” he said. “He could still be out there.”

 You smiled the best you could, although the pit in your stomach remained. “Yeah, I guess he could.” You tossed the popcorn to Yeonjun and stood to your feet, wiping the crumbs from your hands. “Wait here, okay? The other guy that’s supposed to be helping us is—” You paused to glance at the time on your phone, “—ten minutes late. I’m gonna make sure he knows where to come or see if he’s lost or something.”

 Yeonjun nodded, helping himself to what was left of your snack. “Who is the other guy, anyway?”

 You sighed, picking up the piece of paper that the department head gave to you when she asked you to organize the showcase, claiming that it would be a great deal of experience for you to acquire in your senior year of university.

 You were mostly doing it for the extra credit points.

 You began to read the names of the seniors that were in charge of organizing the project listed at the top of the paper. “From the drama department, Choi Yeonjun and Kang Taehyun.”

 “Taehyun had an appointment,” Yeonjun said through a mouthful of popcorn. “He’ll be here tomorrow.”

 You nodded, tracing your finger along the page, stopping beneath the next pair of names. “From the music department, Y/N and Choi Beomgyu.” You looked up from the paper, tapping your forefinger against your chin. “Choi Beomgyu? Do you know him?”

 Yeonjun pondered for a moment before snapping his fingers. “Ah—that guy!” You weren’t surprised; Yeonjun seemed to know everyone in the performing arts programs at your school. “He’s one of the top guitar students, if I’m remembering correctly. Have you not heard of him?”

 You shook your head, looking back down at his name. Choi Beomgyu. It did sound familiar, but no images or information came along with the words printed on the page. It was nothing more than a tugging feeling in your stomach that made you feel like you knew him from somewhere.

 You began walking towards the door, still staring down at the paper. Just as the tips of your fingers brushed across the metal handle, the door swung open, and you barely had time to glance up and see a head of fluffy black hair and big brown eyes before the door crashed into your forehead so hard you fell backwards to the tile floor.

 With a hiss, you brought your hand up to your forehead, relieved to find a lack of blood there. Your eyes were blurred with tears, but through the fog you were able to see the same round doe eyes you had caught a glimpse of before you hit the ground.

 “Are you okay?” It was a guy’s voice, clear and ringing in your ears. You rubbed your eyes to clear some of the moisture and were then able to get a better look at the boy in front of you. Curly black bangs hung over his brows, brushing just over the tops of his wide chocolate eyes. His sun-kissed skin was sprinkled with a light spatter of freckles across his nose and lightly flushed cheeks.

 You blinked several times before responding. “Y-yeah, I’m okay.” You accepted his hand when he offered to help you stand back up, and soon, you were on your feet once more.

 “Sorry about that,” he said, brushing a hand through his already tousled hair. He leaned forward a bit, tapping his finger against your forehead. “Just got a tiny bump, though. You’ll be okay.”

 You backed away from his touch, but he didn’t seem to notice as he had caught sight of Yeonjun. Your best friend was quite literally on the edge of his seat, perched on the ledge of the desk while shoveling the last crumbs of popcorn into his mouth as if this were some movie unfolding before his eyes. If you had been close enough, you would have hit him.

 “Yeonjun?” Door Boy’s face lit up, and he strode over to give your pink-haired friend a high five. “I haven’t seen you in ages!”

 “Hey, man,” Yeonjun said with a grin, ruffling Door Boy’s curly hair with his fingers. “I know, it’s been way too long.”

 “I’m sorry, who’s this?” You asked, still a bit dazed from your unexpected collision with the door.

 Yeonjun looked back at you, gesturing to the newcomer. “Oh, this is—”

 “Choi Beomgyu,” he finished the introduction himself, giving you an overdramatic bow as he said his name. “And you must be Y/N?”

 Things were beginning to click together in your head: Door Boy was Choi Beomgyu. In other words, Door Boy was your assigned partner—the one you would be spending the next four weeks trying to plan a performance with.

 For some reason, the fact that you had met one another by him slamming a door into your face didn’t leave the best feeling in your chest.

 “I look forward to working with you, Y/N.” He gave you a big, lopsided grin, one that any other person would likely find heartwarming.

 You forced a smile in return, rubbing your hand across the bump on your forehead. “Same here, Choi Beomgyu.”

 -

 PERHAPS IT HAD A BIT TO DO WITH HOW POORLY YOUR FIRST MEETING WENT, BUT SOMETHING ABOUT BEOMGYU REALLY GOT UNDER YOUR SKIN.

 The day after you had first met one another, Yeonjun had asked everyone to meet up in the coffee shop inside the campus library. This time, Taehyun from the drama department was also able to be there. You had gotten to know him pretty well over the past four years because of how close he and Yeonjun had become, so the three of you hung out often.

 In fact, for the first fifteen minutes of the meeting, it was just the three of you sitting there. You pushed your tongue against the inside of your cheek in agitation before taking another sip of your coffee. “Does this Beomgyu guy have a thing for being late?”

 “Relax, Y/N,” Yeonjun said absently from across the table, his attention focused primarily on his cell phone screen. “Not everyone’s a time freak like you.”

 “Time freak—What does that even mean?” You crumpled up the wrapper from Taehyun’s straw and threw it at Yeonjun. “Unlike you, I actually care about getting these extra credit points and would like to organize this event properly.”

 “Hey! I care!” Yeonjun placed a hand over his heart, as though he had been wounded.

 You and Taehyun exchanged a side glance with one another, eyebrows raised.

“Stop looking at each other like that! I do care!”

 Before the point could be argued any further, a messy-haired boy crashed into the seat beside of you, out of breath, his backpack falling from his shoulder and onto the ground from the impact. You stared at him for a moment before realizing that it was Beomgyu.

 “Sorry—I’m late,” he said in between deep breaths. “On my way here—saw one of the campus cats—got distracted.”

 You stared at him again, almost laughing at how ridiculous of an excuse that was. However, considering what little you knew of Beomgyu, the thought of him being fifteen minutes late to a meeting because he got distracted by a cat didn’t seem all that unlikely. With a sigh, you slid a blank piece of notebook paper towards him and set a pen on top of it. “It’s all good. Mind taking notes?”

 He nodded—a bit too enthusiastically, if you were to say so yourself. “Sure. Can I grab a coffee real quick?”

 You were about to suggest that he should wait until after the meeting, since the three of you had been there for such a long time already, but Taehyun chimed in before you could say anything with, “Of course. We’ve got nowhere else to be.”

 It took everything within you to not roll your eyes. You were usually on the same page as Taehyun, but of course, this situation had to be an exception, because Choi Beomgyu was there.

 The slacker was rummaging around his backpack, searching for something. He pouted, looking up from his bag. “I forgot my wallet.”

 “No worries! Y/N doesn’t eat breakfast, so she always has an extra swipe on her meal card,” Yeonjun said from across the table. Your mouth fell open, eyes wide as saucers. “I’m sure she wouldn��t mind letting you use it. Right, Y/N?”

 You weren’t quite sure that you did want Beomgyu to use your meal card, but what kind of jerk would you be if you said no? With gritted teeth and a glare at your best friend, you fished your meal card out of your wallet and placed it into Beomgyu’s open palm.

 The pout left his lips instantly, a big grin taking its place. “Thanks. I’ll return the favor sometime soon.”

 Doubt it, you thought, watching him rush towards the counter to order. You’ll probably forget you said that by the time you get your drink.

 Soon he was back at the table, caramel latte in hand, your meal card back in your possession. You cleared your throat, shifting in your seat. “If everyone’s ready, we can go ahead and get started. I met with my professor yesterday—she’s also the head of the classical music department. She’s technically our ‘overseer,’ but all the responsibility of planning the performance is on us. We’ll only have about forty minutes total to showcase the drama and music departments, so we need to choose our sets wisely.”

 “Yeonjun and I were talking a bit about this earlier,” Taehyun said. “We’ve been preparing for our winter show since the beginning of the summer, so we figured we could just perform a scene from the play.”

 You nodded, liking the idea. “That sounds perfect. What’s the play?”

 “A Midsummer Night’s Dream.”

 “Right, I knew that. Could you guys work on finding a scene around ten or fifteen minutes long to perform for the open house, then?”

 Yeonjun and Taehyun both nodded. You smiled, glad that you were finally starting to get some things together for the event.

 When you glanced at Beomgyu to make sure he had written that down, the smile left as quickly as it had come when you saw that he was doodling tiny flowers and hearts all over the page rather than taking notes.

 He must have felt your eyes on him, because he glanced up and caught your gaze. Seemingly unbothered, he simply smiled and said, “Don’t worry. I was just about to write it down.”

 Your fingers itched to reach over and take the pen and paper from him so you could just do it yourself, but you kept your composure. “Beomgyu. Any ideas for what the music department could do?”

 He finished writing down Drama Department—Scene from “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” before looking at you again. He shrugged, another nonchalant smile spreading across his face. “Not really. I’m down for whatever it is you decide to do.”

 “Wow, helpful. Truly.” Your eyes went wide when you realized you had said those words out loud after Yeonjun and Taehyun began to snicker beside you. Your face flushed with embarrassment, but Beomgyu seemed unphased, that careless lopsided grin of his still on full display.

 You sighed, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear. “Well, I was thinking about having the orchestra do a piece, and then having one of the student bands do a piece. That way we have something classical and something more contemporary. Thoughts?”

 “I think that’s a good idea,” Taehyun said. “If we do our scene first, the orchestra could kind of act as a bridge between Shakespeare and more modern art.”

 “I agree,” Yeonjun said. “And since Y/N is in the orchestra, she can get in touch with the director and have them prepare something. Oh, and Beomgyu!” The curly-haired boy looked up from his doodling when his name was called. “You know a few different bands, right? Think you could piece together a group of performers?”

 “Definitely,” Beomgyu said. When he noticed your eyes on him, he quickly scribbled down Orchestra—Y/N. Band—Beomgyu Me.

 “Well, since we all have our first tasks, I guess that’s all for today.” You were happy that the meeting was over; you were ready to get back to your dorm so you could get to work and actually get things done.

 “Wait!” Beomgyu said as you stood up, slinging your bag over your shoulder.

 Now you have something to say. You raised a brow at him expectantly.

 “We should exchange phone numbers, right?” He smiled, standing up and holding his phone out towards you. “I have the others’ numbers, but I figure I should be able to contact my partner from the music department.”

 You hesitated, but knew there was no logical reason why you shouldn’t give him your number. You were going to be working together for the next several weeks, after all.

 After putting your number in, he took his phone back and grinned at you again, eyes scrunching up into crescent moons. “Perfect! I’ll try not to bother you too much, but I make no promises.” He reached forward and ruffled your hair, and you were too caught off guard by the sudden touch to back away, or to even react at all. He then waved at all three of you, throwing his backpack over his shoulder. “See you guys tomorrow then.” He turned towards you again, throwing you a casual wink that still managed to have you flustered. “I’ll be in touch, partner.”

 You turned to watch him leave, face warm as you brushed through your hair with your fingers, trying to undo the damage your “partner” had done.

 Something told you that he wouldn’t be keeping his promise about trying not to bother you anytime soon.

 -

 OVER THE NEXT FEW WEEKS, BEOMGYU PROVED HIMSELF TO BE ONE OF THE MOST BOTHERSOME PEOPLE YOU HAD COME ACROSS IN A LONG, LONG TIME.

 The worst part was the fact that he didn’t do anything blatantly wrong. He did everything he was asked to do when it came to preparing for the showcase. The first week of work consisted of the two of you gathering all the students who would be participating in the performances, along with Yeonjun and Taehyun preparing those from the drama department. Beomgyu performed all of his tasks just as he was asked to do, so it wasn’t as if he was bothering you by being unhelpful.

 It was just something about the way he held himself that seemed to get under your skin for no apparent reason.

 For the past week, your “partner” had basically been a tagalong—he would stand beside of you and do what he was asked without contributing much to the creative process of planning. You found it hard to criticize him up front, as he just did as he was told.

 However, that was all he did. When the four of you would all sit down together to discuss plans or ideas, Beomgyu’s role never changed: he would sit beside all of you, jot down anything you told him to in his nearly-full composition notebook, and crack an occasional joke that would always send Yeonjun and Taehyun into fits of laughter, but only earned a stiff, forced smile from you.

 You were starting to wonder why your professor had assigned him to your team. After all, putting on this open house was your last shot at making a lasting impression on the higher ups in your department. Everything needed to be perfect; mediocracy was not an option.

 In other words, Choi Beomgyu needed to step up his game, and he needed to do it quickly.

 You thought about this on the day of your first rehearsal, where all of the students who would be participating in the performances had gathered in the main auditorium of the music building.

 Drama students were scattered in all directions, occupying the space around them with dramatic line readings and critiques for their classmates as they practiced their roles. Yeonjun and Taehyun were busy taking charge of the drama students, making sure everything was running smoothly amongst them. You watched as Kai, one of the freshman students Yeonjun had taken under his wing, followed your friends around like a baby penguin waddling after its parents, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

 Music students were spread across the stage, the orchestra setting up instruments and covering stands with sheets filled by notes and lyrics while the band tuned their guitars and plugged up their mics. Soobin, a tall, blue-haired student from the same year as you, waved at you from stage with his mic in hand. You waved back, happy that you had been able to snag him as the main vocalist for the band’s performance—his voice was angelic, able to captivate any listener.

 “Hey.” You turned at the sound of the voice you had begun to grow quite accustomed to, whether that was for better or for worse. Beomgyu was standing beside of you, brushing a hand through the curly black bangs that hung just above his eyes. The tip of his nose was flushed pink, a sign that he had likely just been out in the biting cold that had begun to creep up as fall quickly approached. He had his backpack slung over one shoulder and his guitar case held in one hand.

 “Running a little late, aren’t we?” You asked, glancing at the time on your phone with no attempt at hiding your frown. “Is this going to be a trend with you, Choi Beomgyu?”

 He laughed, nudging his shoulder against yours. You wanted to be more irritated with him than you were, but he had the kind of laugh that put everyone around him at ease; the kind of laugh that filled one’s chest with warmth, as if you had been directly touched by a ray of sunlight reaching down from the sky.

 So you settled with being only slightly irritated, pursing your lips to keep your expression in check as he responded with, “What fun would it be if everyone was on time?”

 “It’s not about fun, it’s about making sure this whole thing runs smoothly,” you said as you turned to face him. “Speaking of which, since you didn’t have any suggestions, I went ahead and helped the band choose a setlist. They’ll only have time for two songs, but the ones I picked are really diverse and should be—”

 “Ah!” He cut you off, snapping his fingers in front of your face, causing you to flinch back in surprise. “I knew there was something I forgot to tell you.”

 “What?”

 He rubbed the back of his neck, grinning as he shifted a bit closer to you. You could smell his cologne—a misty citrus scent that was so light you could barely tell it was there. “Well, it’s kind of embarrassing, but the professor actually wanted the band to perform one of the songs I wrote. If that’s okay with you, of course—you’re the boss, after all.”

 “You—you write songs?” You asked, trying not to get irritated at the sudden disruption of what you had planned. He had been complacent this entire time, so of course, the time he actually had something to contribute, he would be messing up what you had already set in place.

 “Well, if it’s a suggestion from the professor, I can’t just deny you permission, can I?” You said with a forced laugh. “Do you have the—”

 “Sheet music?” He finished your sentence, shaking a stack of papers in front of you. “Right here, partner. Want me to go tell the band?”

 You sighed, crossing your arms over your chest. “Sure. Just tell them to switch the second song I had picked out with this one.”

 He smiled at you again, ruffling your hair with the same hand he held the papers in. “You’re a saint. I’ll talk to you in a bit then?”

 You had no time to respond before he was setting off towards the stage to talk to the band, papers and guitar in hand. You huffed through pursed lips, mumbling under your breath as you tried to put your hair back in place.

 “What was that all about?” You dropped your hands to your sides when Yeonjun approached you, eyebrow quirked. Half of his cotton-candy colored hair was pulled into a ponytail, and he had on a pair of big round glasses with what you knew to be fake lenses—a fashion statement rather than a necessity.

 “I don’t think Beomgyu knows much about personal boundaries or personal responsibility,” you mumbled, allowing Yeonjun to come up and finish fixing your hair with his fingers. “He decided to just now tell me that our professor wanted the band to use one of his songs in the performance.”

 “What’s wrong with that?”

 “Nothing’s wrong with it, I just—” You hesitated, unsure of how to respond without sounding like a jerk. “I just wish he would have told me about it sooner. That’s all.”

 “Y/N, you need to cut the guy some slack,” Yeonjun said, stepping back once he was finished fixing up your hair. “You act as though you have a personal vendetta against him or something.”

 “I do not,” You argued, feeling you defenses flare up at his words. “Why would you say that?”

 “I don’t know, maybe because every time he walks in the room you start to grimace, and every time he talks to you I can literally feel the amount of energy it takes for you to not roll your eyes.”

 “You’re exaggerating.”

 “If you say so.” He put his hand on your shoulder, giving you a stern look that did, in fact, make you roll your eyes. “Give him a chance, Y/N. You may end up liking him more than you’d expect.”

 You scoffed as your best friend walked away from you, returning to work on his previous tasks with Taehyun. A vendetta? Was it really that obvious to the people around you that Beomgyu got under your skin?

 Perhaps Yeonjun was right—you did have a tendency to be extra sensitive when it came to your academic responsibilities. Maybe you were being too hard on Beomgyu; his goal was the same as yours, even if his methods differed drastically from yours.

 You looked up to the stage to see Beomgyu laughing as he said something to Soobin, the rest of the band analyzing the sheets of music in their hands—Beomgyu’s song, if you had to guess. His skin glowed like honey beneath the stage lights, and you noticed that when he laughed, he laughed with his entire body; his eyes disappeared into crescents, his shoulders shook, he clapped his hands together and even stomped his feet a bit. You smiled slightly at the sight, before a pang of guilt hit you.

 He did seem like a nice guy. It was time you gave him a chance to be seen as such in your eyes.

 -

 ANY PATIENCE YOU HAD DESPERATELY TRIED TO HOLD WITH BEOMGYU WAS WEARING THIN, AND IT HAD ONLY BEEN AN HOUR SINCE YOU DECIDED TO GIVE HIM A CHANCE.

 You had both stayed behind with Yeonjun and Taehyun to clean up the auditorium after the practice. “I think that we’re done, don’t you?” You asked everyone after picking up a few discarded sheets of paper left behind by the drama students.

 “Almost,” Beomgyu said from the stage. You looked up at him to see him pointing at two large music stands left behind by the orchestra. “Someone left these behind.”

 “Can’t we just leave them there?” Yeonjun asked.

 Taehyun shook his head. “No, we were given specific instructions to not leave anything behind.” He glanced at his phone. “They’re about to close the building for the night, so we should hurry and put them up.”

 “I know which room they came from, so I can take them back,” Beomgyu offered.

 “They’re pretty heavy, Beomgyu. Are you sure you can carry them on your own?” Taehyun asked.

 “Yeah, it’s fine—”

 “No, no, someone should definitely help you. You have to carry your guitar too,” Yeonjun interjected, a mischievous glint in your eyes that sent sirens blaring in your head. The feelings of disdain only grew when Yeonjun made eye contact with you directly, seeming to give you a sweet smile, but you knew the expression was laced with ulterior motives. “Y/N, why don’t you carry one while Beomgyu carries the other?”

 You wanted to smack him, but that wouldn’t have been a good look for you, considering that everyone already thought you hated Beomgyu anyways. You glanced up at him on the stage to see that he had already picked one of the stands up, his guitar in the other hand.  He gave you a big grin, eyes sparkling like freshly fallen snow. “What do you say, partner? Care to give me a hand?”

 You pushed your tongue against the inside of your cheek, knowing that there was no way you were getting out of this one. “Sure,” You said through your teeth, glaring daggers at Yeonjun before making your way up the steps to the stage. The music stand wasn’t too heavy, so you almost dared to ask Beomgyu to try carrying them both in one hand, but decided against it.

 “We’ll go ahead and leave then,” Yeonjun said, throwing a taunting wink your way. “You two have fun.”

 You hate to bite your tongue to keep from cursing at him as Yeonjun and Taehyun left the auditorium, leaving you alone with Beomgyu for the first time. You glanced his way, noticing that he already had his eyes on you. Instead of averting his gaze when yours met his, he just smiled wider, gesturing towards the door with his head. “Shall we?”

 You forced another smile. “Lead the way, partner.”

 You followed him out the doors and up the stairs to the first floor, where the orchestra’s practice room was located. You were very familiar with the area, being a violinist yourself. When the two of you reached the room, you rushed forward to open the door, as Beomgyu’s hands were full. He thanked you and stepped inside first, and you followed suit, letting the heavy door swing shut behind you.

 “Where should we set them?” He asked.

 You nodded to the far corner of the room. “Over there.”

 The two of you set the stands down, and you instantly turned back towards the door, ready to get back to your dorm for some alone time after such a taxing day.

 “In a rush?” Beomgyu asked from behind you.

 You turned to look over your shoulder at him as your hand grasped the doorknob. “Nah, just tired. Aren’t you?”

 He shrugged, shifting his guitar case from one hand to the other. “Not really.”

 “Lucky you,” You mumbled, turning back towards the door. “Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow—”

 You stopped mid-sentence, heart dropping to your toes. When you tried to turn the knob, it wouldn’t move. After a moment of shock, you tried again, and then again, violently shaking the knob, trying to get the door to open.

 “No, no, no,” You said, shaking the handle desperately. “Come on, this can’t be happening!”

 “What is it?” Beomgyu asked, setting his guitar on the floor before rushing to your side.

 “The door won’t open.” You shook the knob more frantically than ever, the entire door shaking from the force.

 “Woah, easy there, partner,” Beomgyu said, gently placing his hand on your arm. “Why don’t you let me try to—”

 “What exactly do you think you’re going to be able to do differently?” You snapped, snatching your arm away from him. His mouth hung open, eyes wide with what you assumed to be shock. “We’re stuck in here, Beomgyu. We’re stuck, and we’re not going to get out for god knows how long, and with you as my ‘partner,’ I’m one hundred percent certain we’re not going to be able to find a way out of here on our own.”

 You could tell that your words struck a nerve with him by the way his shoulders tensed and how his eyes went narrow. Looking back, you wished you could reel the words back in, but they had already done their damage.

 “Why do you hate me so much?” He asked, his voice low and thick with irritation.

 It was your turn to be shocked. “What?”

 “I said, why do you hate me so much?”

 You blinked rapidly, feeling exposed and vulnerable now that he was confronting you. “I don’t—I don’t hate you, Beomgyu.”

 He scoffed, pulling his bottom lip under his teeth. “Come on, I’m not that much of an idiot. This entire time, from the moment we first met, you’ve been cold and snippy with me. You can barely hide how much you dislike me with your facial expressions. I thought maybe we just got off on the wrong foot, so I’ve been brushing it off and treating you kindly. But you still treat me like I’m some annoying fly that you can’t quite get rid of, and I want to know why.”

 “That’s not—I don’t hate you,” You repeated, jumbling your words together as you struggled to figure out what to say.

 “Well, what’s the issue then?”

 “You don’t take anything seriously!” Your voice wasn’t quite a shout, but it was almost there. Beomgyu took a step back, arms dropping to his sides.

 “You’re treating this entire thing like it’s an elementary school play,” You continued, your voice getting louder and your words coming out more and more rushed the more you spoke. “You don’t contribute in the meetings, you show up late, and you barely do the things I ask you to do. I understand it may not be anything special to you, but this is my last chance to do something memorable here. I’m graduating in the spring, and up until this point, I’ve been nothing but another violinist tossed in the orchestra. I don’t stand out to my professors, or to scouts, to anyone.”

 Hot tears began to well in the corners of your eyes as thoughts of your mother surfaced. Every word she had ever said about your pursuit of music being a waste of time, of how little a chance you had of making it, how your only hope was to stand out in the department, which, of course, she highly doubted you would be capable of doing.

 “I have to do this, and I have to do it right.” Your voice wavered as you swiped at your cheeks, where a few tears had fallen. “If I don’t, then I’ll—I’ll—”

 “Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Beomgyu’s voice was gentle, in stark contrast to the razor-sharp tone he had held just seconds before. You looked at him through your teary eyes to see that his own eyes were wide, this time with concern rather than anger. “You don’t have to explain, I understand, okay? I’m sorry, Y/N.”

 You sniffed, more tears gliding down your cheeks as you did so. “What?”

 “I’m sorry,” He repeated, looking as though he were about to start crying himself. “I had no idea that’s how I was coming across. I’m really, really sorry.”

 You stared at him, dumbfounded. How were you supposed to respond to that? The last thing you expected to hear from him was an apology, especially since, now that you had yelled at him, you realized how unfair you were being towards him. You shook your head, wiping furiously at your eyes. “No, you don’t have to apologize Beomgyu. I should be apologizing—I’m the one being irrational, not to mention I’m also the one that locked us in here—”

 “How about we just call it even then, hm?” He cut you off, looking around before he spotted a box of tissues on the front desk. He grabbed one and made his way back over to you, gently wiping the tears from your face, being careful to not touch you directly. “We’ve both apologized for something that the other person doesn’t think requires an apology. The grounds are neutral now.”

 You laughed, gently taking the tissue from his hand so you could wipe your eyes on your own. He stepped back when you did so, smiling nervously at your sudden laughter.

 “Thank you, Beomgyu,” You said quietly, wadding the tissue up in your hand.

 He rubbed the back of his neck, rocking back and forth on his feet. “No need to thank me, Y/N.” He paused, seeming to be in deep thought. It was quiet for a moment before he stuck his hand out towards you, expression cautiously hopeful. “Now that we both understand each other a little better, do you think we could start over?”

 You smiled, wrapping your hand around his to give it a firm shake. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

 -

 THE WORLD ALWAYS SEEMED COLDER WHEN YOU WERE ALONE.

 Of course, it could have felt cold because you were alone in a hotel parking lot, sitting on the cool pavement in the late hours of the night. You hadn’t brought a jacket with you, and your dress was sleeveless and made of thin fabric that didn’t do much to protect you from the wind that sent strands of hair flying across your face.

 However, you were certain that if your mother or father had been sitting beside of you that early winter’s night, you would barely even notice the bite of the wind or the goosebumps that prickled up all over your bare arms. Even the stars had denied you their company; the sky was pitch black, void of any trace of light.

 Lower lip trembling, you sighed as you kept your gaze on the sky above, thinking that maybe, if you kept looking, you’d find a single star shining amidst the darkness. Tears filled your eyes, but you wiped them away before they could fall.

 “You’re a strong girl, Y/N,” Your mother would say if she were to catch you crying. “Strong girls don’t cry, do they?”

 “No,” You whispered, even though she wasn’t there to hear you. “Strong girls don’t cry.”

 “What do you mean?”

 You jumped at the sudden voice, placing your hand over your heart before you turned your head to see a boy sitting on the pavement beside you. He had curly black hair that stuck out from beneath a beanie, covering the top of his eyes, and a big jacket on over his clothes. He seemed to be the same age as you, but of course, you couldn’t be sure.

 “W-what?” You spoke through shaking lips, pulling your arms around yourself in an attempt to stay warm.

 “You said that strong girls don’t cry,” He said, eyeing you with curiosity. “What do you mean by that?”

 “Oh,” you whispered, looking down at your shoes—a pair of black flats with scuff marks all over the toes. “It’s nothing— just something my mom says.”

 He hummed, leaning back on the palms of his hands. “Well, I think she’s wrong. Everyone cries, even the strongest people alive. If someone tells you they don’t cry, then they’re lying.” He turned towards you, a big grin on his face. “You don’t seem like a liar to me.”

 You sniffled, wiping your hand across your cheeks to catch the few tears that had managed to slip down. “Thanks, I think.”

 “It was definitely meant as a compliment.” He sat up straight then, narrowing his eyes at you. You shrunk back a bit, shoulders shaking as the wind only seemed to get stronger by the second.

 A moment later, he was sitting right beside of you, so close that his arm brushed against yours as he slipped his coat off, revealing an oversized hoodie beneath it. He wrapped the coat around your shoulders, and zipped it up, trapping your arms inside. He smiled again and sat back, but he was still close to you, so close that your shoulders were pressed together and his pinky was resting on top of yours.

 Eyes wide, you slowly shook your head and slipped your arms through the sleeves so you could reach the zipper. “No, I’m okay—”

 “Hey, keep it on, please,” He interrupted, placing his hand on top of yours to stop you from unzipping the coat. “It’s freezing out here, and you don’t even have any sleeves.”

 You hesitated, not wanting to be a bother to this unexpectedly kind stranger, but you would have been lying if you had said that the cold wasn’t starting to bother you. Not wanting your lips to turn blue, you nodded, pulling your arms back into the coat to keep them extra warm.

 “Thank you,” you said quietly. “What are you doing out here, by the way?”

 “Me? Oh, I was just sneaking out to the indoor pool.” He pointed over his shoulder at the building with a large dome roof made of glass. “My parents are already asleep and didn’t notice me leave. You?”

 “Ah, well, my family is staying here for the night. My parents and I are going out for dinner to celebrate my birthday.”

 “It’s your birthday?” He asked, eyes growing wide. You nodded sheepishly and his smile grew bigger before he reached over to ruffle your hair with his hand. “Happy birthday!”

 You giggled, smoothing your hair back down when he pulled his hand away. Your eyes met his, which seemed to sparkle with the light of billions of galaxies, paired perfectly with his beaming smile, and you realized that maybe you didn’t need the stars that night after all, because he alone shined brightly enough.

 He looked around then, eyebrows furrowed. “But, where are your parents? Shouldn’t you guys get going before all the restaurants close?”

 Your smile faded just as quickly as it had appeared. You swallowed, your eyes drifting towards a car that sat a few yards away from the two of you. The car was running and the lights inside were on, casting a yellow glow onto the two occupants seated in the front: your parents. Although you couldn’t hear what they were saying, you knew that they were yelling by the way they pointed their fingers at each other, and by the expressions on their faces, and the intensity with which their lips were moving.

 The boy followed your gaze, his mouth parting slightly in surprise when he caught sight of your parents in the heat of their dispute. He glanced sideways at you before moving to sit in front of you, blocking your view of your parents.

 “Why don’t you sneak to the pool with me?” He asked.

 You shook your head immediately, a slight smile returning to your face. It was clear that he was trying to distract you, and you were grateful. That didn’t mean you were willing to sneak away from your parents, especially when the tension among your family was already sky high.

 “Why not?” He whined, sticking his bottom lip out in a pout.

 “Because I’m not supposed to move from this spot,” You said.

 “And I wasn’t supposed to leave my hotel room, yet here I am.” He shrugged nonchalantly, brushing his bangs out of his eyes only for them to fall right back into place. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

 There were a lot of really terrible things that could happen as a result of you sneaking away to go night swimming with a boy you didn’t know while your parents fought in the middle of a hotel parking lot. You could probably list ten off the top of your head. However, when you looked into the starry eyes of the boy in front of you, his lips spread in an encouraging grin that made you feel warm inside despite the cold, you hesitated.

 What was the worst thing that could happen? The list seemed to be erased from your head as quickly as it appeared.

 He tilted his head to the side, a playful glint sparkling in his eyes. He stood up and stretched his hand out to you, his fingers trembling from the cold.

 “Should we run away?”

 Your fingers twitched, urging to reach out touch his own. You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to find the balance between being rational and following where your heart was leading. These two things did not seem to be lining up.

 Before you could do anything, however, you heard a car door slamming shut. You jumped to your feet just in time to see your mother stepping away from the vehicle before your father drove off, leaving her alone in the parking lot. Eyes wide with worry, you watched as your mother brushed her hand across her cheeks before taking a deep breath and making her way towards you.

 “Y/N,” she said when she reached you, not even glancing at the boy beside of you as she took your face in her hands. “Your dad is going to come pick us up in the morning. How about we just have a girl’s night to celebrate your birthday instead?”

 With your heart dropping to your toes, you felt the tears welling in your eyes once again, but you refused to let them fall. You smiled and nodded, wrapping your hand around your mother’s. “Yeah. That sounds fine.”

 You turned towards the boy to see that his face was full of concern. Forcing the best smile you could, you unzipped his coat and slipped it off your shoulders before placing it back in his outstretched hands.

 “Thank you,” you said quietly. Before he could say anything back, you had turned away and began walking back towards the entrance, arm-in-arm with your mother.

 “I was thinking we could order a pizza and rent your favorite movies,” she said, straining to keep the emotion out of your voice. “I’ll order the food once we get back to the room, okay?”

 You nodded slowly, halting your footsteps just before the automatic doors that led inside.

 But when you turned your head to catch one last look at the boy who shined brighter than the stars, he was already gone.

 -

 IN THE HAZY PLACE BETWEEN SLEEPING AND WAKING, YOU COULD HAVE SWORN YOU HEARD HIM SINGING.

 With your eyes still closed, the sound rang through your head, clear as day. It was comforting, as if you had heard it before. Yet it wasn’t a sound that only echoed around you. This voice, so gentle and sweet that it seemed to drip with sugar and honey, filled all of your senses to the brim. You weren’t just hearing it, you were feeling it.

 “In moments like those, when tears fill your eyes, hold my hand tight. Should we run away?”

 You sighed, swept away by the sound and the words that the voice sang. You felt as though you had heard it before, but you couldn’t quite think of where. Snuggling closer to whatever it was that you were leaning against, you allowed the faintest of smiles to trace its way across your lips.

 The singing stopped. “Y/N?”

 “Hmm?” You pressed your face closer against the warmth you were leaning into, frowning at the sudden absence of the soothing voice.

 “Are you awake?”

 “Yeah,” you mumbled, slowly forcing your eyes open.

 You weren’t quite sure where exactly you expected to be when you opened your eyes, but it definitely was not on the floor of the orchestra practice room with your head in Choi Beomgyu’s lap. Beomgyu was smiling down at you, black curls hanging over his eyes, freckles illuminated by the faint moonlight that spilled through the windows.

 You sat up quickly, trying to fix your messy hair as you felt your face grow warm. You didn’t remember falling asleep, but you were incredibly embarrassed that you had.

 “How—how long was I asleep?” You asked, your voice hoarse.

 “Just an hour or so. I think you got so stressed out after trying to call so many people that you just passed out,” Beomgyu said. He reached his hands toward you and helped you straighten up your hair, which only served to make your face even warmer than before.

 “Sorry,” you said, gesturing to his lap. “For . . . that.”

 He waved his hand at you before folding his hands behind his head. “Don’t apologize. Seems like you needed the sleep—you were dreaming pretty intensely.”

 “I was? Did I say anything weird in my sleep? What did I say? Was it embarrassing?” You grabbed his sleeve, eyes wide as you bombarded him with questions.

 He laughed, shaking his head in reassurance. “Don’t worry, it was nothing embarrassing. But you were talking.”

 “What did I say?”

 “Hmm, something about it being your birthday?” He placed a finger against his chin, eyes narrowed. “I’m not sure exactly what else. It was all kinda random.”

 You squeezed your eyes shut, biting the inside of your cheek as you let go of his sleeve. You remembered every bit of the dream you had—well, it wasn’t really a dream as much as it was a memory. It was embarrassing to think that Beomgyu had heard any part of the memory, but you tried not to think about it too much.

 “Beomgyu,” You said, opening your eyes once more to look at him. “Were you singing just now? Before I woke up?”

 He didn’t say anything at first, his expression blank. Then, he smiled, nudging your shoulder with his. “Of course not—you know I don’t sing. Why?”

 “Actually, for the record, I did not know that,” You corrected. “And I don’t know, I just .  . . thought I heard someone.”

 “Maybe it was your soulmate,” Beomgyu said, moving his eyebrows up and down.

 You sighed, looking down at your feet. “I wish it was. I haven’t heard from him in two years.”

 The smile fell from Beomgyu’s face right away. “Ah, sorry, I didn’t know.”

 “It’s okay, you don’t have to apologize.”

 “Do you . . . know what happened to him?”

 You shook your head, staring at the moon through the window. “No. I don’t even know who he was.”

 “Hey, why are you speaking in the past tense?” He turned towards you and grabbed your shoulders, forcing you to face him. “Think positively, Y/N. He could still be out there. When did you first hear him?”

 “When I was thirteen,” You answered. “But he stopped singing two years ago.”

 “And you haven’t heard anything since then?”

 You hesitated, thinking back over the past two years and all the sleepless nights you had spent waiting and hoping to hear any trace of a note ringing in your ears, the faintest hint of a voice. Sometimes, when you were just about to close your eyes, you would’ve sworn that you could hear his voice for the briefest of moments before you drifted off, but you would always blame it on being sleep deprived.

 “No,” you said quietly. “I haven’t heard anything. He used to sing all the time, too. I would wake up to the sound of his voice, and it would carry me throughout each and every day. I know it sounds weird to say this about someone I don’t remember meeting, but I felt . . . connected to him, if that makes sense?”

 Beomgyu didn’t say anything, so you continued. “He’s actually the reason why I picked up the violin. I got so used to his voice, I would go around humming all day. I guess my mom got tired of hearing me, because soon after I started hearing him, my mom signed me up for violin lessons. And, well, now I’m here.”

 You looked over to see Beomgyu smiling softly, but his eyes didn’t meet yours. “Do you have any idea of who it might be?”

 You were quiet for a moment. The image of the boy from the hotel parking lot with his star-struck eyes and diamond smile came to your mind, as always.

 “No. But I have someone I hope it is.”

 You looked over at him again, and this time, his eyes met yours. The silvery light of the moon highlighted the right side of his face and the bridge of his nose, casting a stark shadow across the other side. He was neither smiling nor frowning as his eyes searched yours. What exactly he was looking for you couldn’t be sure of, however, you liked the eye contact well enough to let it go on for a moment longer before you cleared your throat, looking back towards the window.

 “Did you try calling Yeonjun again?”

 “Yep. No answer.”

 “Taehyun?”

 “Nothing.”

 “The professor?”

 “Didn’t pick up—I left a message though.”

 You sighed, allowing the back of your head to hit the wall behind you. “We’ll be stuck here all night at this rate.”

 “Well, now that you’ve had a little nap, we may as well use this time to be productive,” Beomgyu said, standing to his feet and stretching his arms above his head as he did so.

 You crossed your arms, raising a brow as you watched him pull his guitar out of the case. “What’s this? Choi Beomgyu taking initiative?”

 “Hey, we said we were starting over.”

 You laughed as he sat on the edge of the desk in front of where you were sitting on the floor. He pulled the strap over his shoulder and began tuning his guitar by ear, something you always struggled to do with your violin.

 “What are you doing?” You asked.

 He strummed through all the strings, nodding when he was satisfied with the sounds. Glancing down at you, he smiled. “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m going to show you the song I wrote.”

 Interest piqued, you sat up straighter and smiled back at him. “I was hoping that’s what you’d say.”

 He laughed, adjusting his position on the desk before his fingers found their place on the neck of the guitar. You listened attentively as he began to pick the first notes, watching the way his fingers moved deliberately across the frets, yet, his movements never lost their grace. At first, he kept his eyes focused on his hands. But as the song went on, his eyes slowly closed, and he played without seeing, relying solely on the sound of the notes he was creating and the feeling of the strings that pressed into his calloused fingertips.

 Awestruck would have been an understatement for the way you felt as you watched him play. The way he became one with the sounds he created, the way his wrist twisted to strum and how his fingertips slid across the length of the instrument as if it was the very thing they had been created to do. You were hypnotized, allowing the music to seep into your heart and make it thump against your chest like a caged bird begging to be set free.

 If you had to put a word to how he looked in that moment, “beautiful” was the closest you would be able to get.

 He opened his eyes as he strummed the last note, a gentle grin on his lips. You noticed how his eyes sparkled in the darkness, despite his back being towards the moonlight rather than his face.

 “What do you think?” He asked, his voice sounding sharp as it pierced through the thick silence that had settled over the room.

 “It was—”

 “It was real pretty, kid.”

 You yelped in surprise at the sudden voice, jumping up to your feet as Beomgyu practically fell off the desk, nearly dropping his guitar in the process. You helped steady him, and together, you looked towards the door to see that it was wide open, fluorescent light from the hallway spilling into the room as the janitor stood in the entry way, arms crossed over his chest as he blew a bubble with the gum in his mouth.

 “If you’re done serenading your girlfriend, would you mind leaving so I can clean up and go home? This building closed an hour ago, but if you both leave now I’ll keep quiet.”

 Your cheeks went hot, and you struggled to form words as Beomgyu scrambled to put his guitar back in its case. “Girl—girlfriend? No, we’re not—I mean, I’m not his—we just got stuck and—”

 “Thank you, sir. We’re really sorry.” Beomgyu cut you off as he picked up his guitar case with one hand and wrapped his free arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. You gasped, but were too stunned to do anything but follow Beomgyu’s lead as he pulled you out of the room.

 “What was that about?” You asked once the two of you had safely made it out of the building. “You were not serenading me.”

 Beomgyu shrugged, letting his arm fall from your shoulders. Your mouth fell open at his lack of a denial. “Choi Beomgyu! Stop messing around.”

 “Who said I was messing around?” He teased, winking at you as he began to walk towards his dorm building, which was on the other side of campus from yours.

 You scoffed but said nothing as you watched his back while he walked away from you, trying to piece together what had just happened.

 “See you tomorrow, Y/N!” He shouted, turning around as he walked so he could wave goodbye.

 You gave him a weak-hearted wave in return, pressing your hands against your flushed cheeks as you slowly began to tread back to your own dorm room.

 How strange it was that just that morning, you would have given almost anything to avoid seeing Beomgyu.

 But now, you found yourself counting down the minutes left until the next day so you could see him again.

 -

 WHEN YOU GOT BACK TO YOUR DORM FROM REHEARSAL THE NEXT EVENING, YOU HAD A TEXT.

 Beomgyu: I know we said we were starting over, but I can’t forget that I still owe you a coffee. Meet me at the library in 15?

 You felt like an idiot, but you couldn’t stop the grin from taking over your face. Slipping your shoes back on, you typed out a quick reply before slipping out the door.

 You: Make it 5. I’ll be waiting.

 When you arrived at the library, you were surprised to see that Beomgyu was already there. The line for coffee was very short, as most students had settled into their dorms for the night. Only a few stray overachievers and those that were desperately trying to cram for exams were there, and Beomgyu had claimed a place in line amongst them. He held his guitar in one hand, as per usual, and you wondered if there would ever come a time in which you would see him without it.

 “How is it that you demanded to meet me ten minutes earlier than I planned, and I still got here before you?” He asked once you had reached him.

 “First of all, I did not demand anything from you,” You said, pushing your fist against his shoulder. “Secondly, that is so unfair, because you know that your dorm is way closer to the library than mine is.”

 “Sounds like an excuse to me, but okay. Ah, it’s our turn.” He placed his hand on the small of your back and pulled you closer to the counter. Your stomach flipped, but for some reason, you didn’t mind.

 After the two of had gotten your coffees, Beomgyu told you to follow him up the stairs. You expected to stop at the second floor, but to your surprise, he kept leading you. He took you through a door in the back that you didn’t even know existed, where there was another flight of stairs. At the end of these stairs was another door. You stepped outside and found yourself on the rooftop, with a great view of the campus below.

 “Are you sure we’re allowed to be up here?” You asked.

 “Well, no. But I’ve come up here a lot and never gotten in trouble, so what’s the harm?”

 “That does not make me feel any better.”

 “Come on, Y/N.” He took your hand in his and brought you over to the wide ledge, big enough for the two of you to sit on without the fear of falling off. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

 You paused, eyes growing wide. He stared back at you as he hoisted himself up on the ledge. He took a sip of his coffee before asking, “Why are you staring at me like that?”

 You shook your head, setting your coffee beside of him before bringing yourself up to sit on the ledge yourself.

 “Nothing,” You said. “You just reminded me of someone.”

 “Ah.” He stared at you for a moment longer before he slipped his jacket off and wrapped it around your shoulders. You opened your mouth to protest, but he placed his finger against your parted lips, which was more than enough to shut you up.

 “Just accept an act of kindness, would you?” He said, zipping his jacket up over you. You watched him as he did so, noticing the way his chocolate eyes sparkled in the midst of the cloudy night.

 You swallowed, averting your gaze. “Thank you.”

 “You’re very welcome. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

 It was quiet then, but not in an uncomfortable way. You enjoyed sitting beside of him in the silence, watching the lights of campus below you, feeling the warmth from his jacket spread over your chilled skin.

 “Actually, Y/N, there’s something that’s been bothering me,” Beomgyu said, breaking the silence.

 You turned to face him, curious. “What is it?”

 For the first time since you had met him, Beomgyu looked nervous. He picked at the skin around his nails, doing everything he could to keep his eyes from meeting yours.

 “Remember how you asked me if I sang? When we were locked in the orchestra room?” His voice was a bit quieter than it had been before.

 “Yeah, you said you didn’t.”

 “Right. Well, that—that was a lie,” He blurted, seeming to regret his words the second they had left his mouth. “Well, not a blatant lie, because I don’t sing anymore. But I used to.”

 You were a bit confused, but seeing how nervous he was, you decided not to ask him why he would lie about such a seemingly trivial topic.

 “What made you stop?” You asked carefully, not wanting to upset him.

 He hesitated, wringing his hands together. After taking a deep breath, he spoke again.

 “My father and I used to sing together,” He began. “I taught myself how to play the guitar, but he was the one who taught me how to sing. He loved to sing, more than anything else, and he always told me that I had a brilliant voice. He said it would be a shame to keep such a voice to myself.”

 He smiled fondly as he spoke of his father, and you couldn’t help but smile as well. The joy slowly faded from his expression, however, as he began to speak again.

 “I lost him two years ago,” He said quietly, voice thick with emotions that caused your heart to clench. “He was in a bad car accident. I was doing really well here, in vocals and guitar. But when I lost him, I just . . . I couldn’t sing anymore. I tried, I really did. I just couldn’t do it.”

 “Oh, Beomgyu,” You whispered, gently placing your hand over his trembling one.

 “It’s pathetic, isn’t it?” He sniffed, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. “Singing was the one thing he wanted me to do, and now that he’s gone, I’m failing at it.”

 “No, Beomgyu,” You said, your voice firm as you squeezed his hand. “It’s not pathetic at all. You’re doing the best you can, and you’re still here. And most importantly, you tried. That’s what matters.”

 He brought his eyes back to yours then, glistening with moisture in the moonless, starless night. He smiled at you then, and you smiled back.

 “Y/N.”

 “Hm?”

 “Have I told you yet that you’re really, really beautiful?”

 Your breath caught in your throat, and you froze, feeling the blood rush to your cheeks. You were frozen for a moment before you scoffed, pulling your hand away from his and tucking it into your lap.

 “I thought you were going to start being more serious,” You mumbled, refusing to look at him. “Stop messing around.”

 Then, he moved closer to you, placing one arm behind you while he brought the other to rest against your cheek, gently turning your face towards his. He leaned in, so close that his breath brushed against your skin. He smelled of citrus and vanilla, and you found yourself leaning closer to him.

 He glanced at your lips, then met your eyes once again.

 “What makes you think I’m not being serious?”

 His lips were soft when they pressed against yours, and it felt as though your heart would burst right out of your chest. You allowed your eyes to fall shut as he gently moved his mouth against yours, slowly tucking a piece of hair behind your ear as he did so, before allowing his fingers to gently trace their way along your cheek, then your jaw, until he rested his hand against your neck, pulling you a tiny bit closer to him.

 He broke the kiss for a fleeting moment, just to open his eyes so he could look into yours. You liked the flecks of light that beamed in his irises, as though his eyes were made of starlight. He smiled, allowing his nose to brush against yours as his eyes moved back down to your lips. Once again, he closed the distance between you, capturing your lips with his for the second time. He tasted like coffee and cheap cherry chap-stick—and odd combination, but you didn’t mind as you brought your arms around his neck and shifted closer to him, twisting your head to the side as you moved your lips in time with his.

 The moment was unexpected, to say the least. But perhaps that was what made it feel that much more magical.

 At least, it was magical until you felt scalding hot liquid splash all over the side of your leg, seeping through the fabric of your jeans to burn your skin.

 You gasped against Beomgyu’s lips before pulling away, staring wide eyed at your jeans that were now stained with coffee. Your cup, which had been sitting between the two of you, was now knocked on its side, the contents drained.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, Y/N,” Beomgyu said frantically. His lips were shining from the aftermath of your kiss, his freckled cheeks and nose red as a cherry. He gently pressed his hands against your leg, pulling them back when you winced from the impact. “Oh god—I’m sorry, I forgot that it was there and I was leaning in and I knocked it over and—”

 You laughed at how flustered he had become, amused by this side of him that you hadn’t seen before. You grabbed his face and pulled him towards you, pressing your lips against his in a swift kiss, effectively shutting him up.

 “It’s okay, Beomgyu,” You said once you pulled away, letting your hands fall from his face. “I guess you just owe me another coffee.”

 The goofy lopsided grin you had grown accustomed to took place of the frightened expression he had worn just moments before. He hopped off the ledge, extending his hand towards you to help you down.

 “Come on, partner. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

 -

 IT WAS THE DAY OF THE OPEN HOUSE, AND YOU WERE SLIGHTLY UNNERVED BY HOW WELL THINGS WERE GOING.

 You had hoped that everything would go smoothly. The past few weeks, you had spent all your time and energy making sure that the event would be as close to perfect as possible.

 Well, you had also spent a bit of time with Beomgyu, but only when you had the time to spare, of course.

 The performers were all setting up; the drama department was working on setting up the stage props, as they would be going first, and they were busy rehearsing with the orchestra for how they could effectively move the props to make room for the instruments in a timely fashion. Yeonjun was rushing about, directing them with the grace and efficiency only he could pull off.

 Everything was going perfectly. You should have just been happy about that, but for some reason, it felt as though you were just waiting for something to go terribly wrong.

 “Y/N.” You turned at the sound of Beomgyu’s voice, smiling as he walked towards you. He was dressed in a white button up shirt that he tucked into a pair of black jeans. His sleeves were pushed up a bit, exposing his forearms.

 “Everything okay?” You asked once he had reached you. You glanced at the members of the band, who were talking in hushed voices right behind Beomgyu. Your eyes narrowed when you noticed that something was amiss. “Where’s Soobin? Is he on his way?”

 Beomgyu sighed, running a hand through his already messy curls. “That’s what I was coming to talk to you about. He’s sick—he won’t be able to make it. I just got a text from him.”

 You blinked slowly, trying to process what you had just been told. Soobin was the main vocalist for the band. Without him, or someone to fill his position, there would be no performance.

 You quickly walked over to the band, desperately trying to think of something to fix the situation, and Beomgyu was following right behind you.

 “Can any of you do lead vocals in Soobin’s place?” You asked.

 “No,” the main guitarist said, looking just as stressed out as you were. “We’d have to change the entire key for it to fit my range, and even if we had time to do that—which we don’t—we wouldn’t have any backup vocals.”

 You pinched the bridge of your nose, squeezing your eyes shut. “There’s got to be something we can do to replace him. We can’t just take the band performance out.”

 “How about Beomgyu?”

 Your eyes flew open at the sound of Yeonjun’s voice, and you whirled around to see him standing behind you.

“When did you get there?” You asked.

 “A minute or so ago,” He said, striding forward so that he stood on the other side of you. “But seriously, everyone knows Beomgyu can sing. He used to do it all the time. Why not have him take Soobin’s place?”

 “It would make sense,” the guitarist said, his face lighting up with a glint of hope. “He’s been here for all the practices—I mean, he even wrote the song!”

 You turned your eyes towards Beomgyu, worry overtaking you in an instant when you saw his expression. All the color had drained from his face, his lips pulled between his teeth. His hands were trembling, and he refused to meet your gaze.

 “Beomgyu,” You said quietly, taking his shaky hand in your steady one. “You don’t have to. We can figure something else out—”

 “I’ll think about it,” He said, eyes finally finding yours. He did his best to force a smile, but it was so strained, your worry only grew at the sight. “Just . . . can you give me a little while?”

 You nodded, squeezing his hand. “Of course.”

 He slipped away from you then, disappearing behind the stage. Your eyes followed him until you couldn’t see him any longer, worry creasing your brows.

 “What was that about?” Yeonjun asked, stepping a bit closer to you. “I understand not wanting to force anyone to do something last minute, but we don’t really have many options.”

 “There’s more to it than that,” You said quietly. “Just trust me, okay? And if he says he can’t do it, he can’t. We are not going to force him to do this.”

 Yeonjun still looked confused, but he simply shrugged. “Whatever you say, captain. But just so you know, if he can’t do it, you’re gonna be the one singing in Soobin’s place. And trust me, no one wants to hear that.”

 You fought the urge to flip him off as he walked away, wondering why on earth you still kept him around as your best friend.

 The rest of the preparations went on, and soon, the audience had begun to fill the auditorium. You hadn’t seen Beomgyu since that moment during rehearsals, and you were beginning to grow worried.

 You stood in the right wing of the stage as the show began with the drama department. You tried to focus on the performance—it was amazing, of course, especially since Yeonjun played a lead role in the scene they had chosen. Everyone knew he was an amazing actor. However, rather than being able to enjoy the show, you could only think about where Beomgyu was and wonder if he was doing alright, your stomach twisting itself into knots as the seconds ticked by.

 By the time the drama students were finished, the audience standing to clap for their flawless performance, you had bitten your nails down to nubs as you grew increasingly worried. Yeonjun rushed over to you when he left the stage, smiling widely as he stretched his arms out to his sides. “How’d we do?”

 “Hm?” You snapped out of your daze, shaking your head as you gave him two thumbs up. “Oh—wonderful. You guys were great. Hey, will you make sure everything goes well with the orchestra? I have to go find Beomgyu.”

 “Well why don’t you stay here and I’ll go find him—”

 “Nope, I’ve got it! Thanks best friend, you’re the greatest!” You gave him a quick hug before he could say anything else, quickly rushing out of the auditorium. You made your way down a few hallways, taking a couple of turns until you had reached one of the dressing rooms. You knew this was where Beomgyu had been getting ready because his guitar case was propped against the wall outside of it, so you hoped he was still inside.

 You knocked on the door. “Beomgyu? Are you in there?”

 It was silent, but you heard someone sniffle from behind the door. You sighed, leaning against the wood. “You don’t have to say anything, okay? But just hear me out.”

 There was no response, but you could have sworn you felt someone leaning against the door from the other side.

 “I know you may feel like you have to pressure yourself to do this, but you don’t,” You said gently. “Nobody is going to be disappointed if you can’t get up there to sing. Not me, not Yeonjun, not the band.”

 You paused, biting your lip before you continued. “Your father wouldn’t be upset either, Beomgyu. The fact that you’re willing to even think about doing something this hard just to help out shows just how great of a person you are. He would be so, so proud of you. I’m proud of you, too. Whether or not you get up there and sing tonight, I’m proud of you. Okay?”

 You stayed there, waiting in silence for a moment longer before you pushed away from the door, walking back towards the auditorium.

 The orchestra was almost finished with their set by the time you returned to the wing. Yeonjun and the band were waiting with anticipation when you returned, eyes wide and searching behind you, probably hoping that Beomgyu was close behind.

 “Is he coming?” Yeonjun asked.

 You sighed, shaking your head slowly. “I don’t think so. We’ll just have to call off the band’s performance, but it’ll be okay—”

 “That won’t be necessary.”

 You turned at the sound of Beomgyu’s voice, unable to help the big smile that overtook your face. You hurried towards him, grabbing both his hands in your own.

 “Are you sure?” You asked. “You know you don’t have to—”

 “I know I don’t,” he said with a smile. “But I want to.”

 He leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss against your forehead. “Thank you. For everything.”

 He went up to talk to the band after that, leaving you a blushing mess. The orchestra had just finished their set and were busy making way for the band. Yeonjun walked to your side as Beomgyu and the rest of the band took their places on the stage.

 “Did he just kiss you?” Your best friend asked. For some reason, he didn’t sound surprised.

 Dumbfounded, you brought your hand to your forehead and nodded, unable to speak. Yeonjun laughed at you, causing you to snap out of your daze so you could punch him lightly in the shoulder.

 Once the band had finished getting ready, Beomgyu cleared his throat, tapping the mic before leaning forward to speak into it.

 “Hello everyone, thanks for coming out tonight. My name is Choi Beomgyu, and these lovely people surrounding me are some of the many talented musicians in our music department.” He paused when the audience clapped, waiting until the applause died down before he spoke again. “To wrap up this showcase, we’ll be performing a song I wrote myself. I wrote this about someone I met a long, long time ago.”

 He turned his head to the side then, making eye contact with you from the stage. He smiled, not taking his gaze away from yours. He looked heavenly in the light cast from the spotlight, strands of his black hair seeming to turn silver beneath the glow, his golden skin shining brighter than ever. You were sure that if you were close enough, you would see the star-like sparkles in his eyes that you had grown to adore.

 “I hope she remembers me, even after all this time.”

 “Is he talking about you?” Yeonjun whispered into your ear, noticing the direction of Beomgyu’s stare. “You guys just met like, a month ago.”

 You were just as confused as your best friend, so in response, you simply shrugged, unsure of what was going on. He was definitely talking to you, but you had no idea what he was referring to.

 “I hope she remembers me, even after all this time.”

 You racked your brain, trying desperately to think of what he could mean. Had you met him before? Did he remember you from somewhere, from a memory that had somehow slipped your mind?

 The music began to play, and you took a step closer to the stage, eyes narrowed, ready to focus on the lyrics, wanting more than anything to remember what Beomgyu was talking about.

 “In moments like those, when tears fill your eyes, hold my hand tight. Should we run away?”

 Your eyes went wide. You stumbled back, reaching up to hold your head in your hands.

 “Y/N?” Yeonjun’s voice was distant, overpowered by the sound of the honey sweet voice that filled the air. “Y/N, what’s wrong?”

 You gasped, hands tangling in your hair as the singing continued.

 “Be my forever, call my name. Run away, run away, run away with me.”

 Your head was ringing. Not only were these words the same ones you had heard in your head the night you were locked in the classroom with Beomgyu, but the voice—Beomgyu’s voice—was the same one you had heard day and night while growing up.

 It was your soulmates voice.

 You knew it was, not just because of the lyrics or the familiarity of the voice. You knew it was your soulmate because you didn’t just hear the words and the notes of the song, you felt them. Every inch of your being felt as though it had been struck by lightning. The voice filled up all of your senses, overpowering you in the most beautiful way imaginable.

 But it was too much. His voice coming through the loudspeakers paired with it ringing inside your head built up so much pressure that it caused your vision to blur. You quickly stumbled out of the auditorium, fumbling your way through the front doors that led outside.

 You sat down on the pavement, taking deep breaths as your mind began to calm down. No longer overwhelmed by all that was going on around you, you closed your eyes, listening to Beomgyu’s voice as it filled your mind.

 “Don’t wanna stay, now we can go. Take me now to the magic named ‘us.’”

 With those words, the voice died down, and you were surrounded by silence.

 You simply sat there for several moments, your eyes remaining closed as you tried to understand everything that had just happened to you.

 Beomgyu was your soulmate.

 Beomgyu was your soulmate, and he was alive.

 Bit by bit, you started to piece things together. The night of your thirteenth birthday, the day before you heard his voice for the first time. You had met the boy with sparkling eyes and a lopsided grin in the hotel parking lot. He had offered you his coat, and then his hand.

 “I hope she remembers me,” Beomgyu had said.

 You smiled to yourself, placing your hand over your heart as it beat fiercely against your chest.

 “Yes, Beomgyu. I do remember you.”

 “Y/N!”

 Your eyes flew open at the sound of the door being thrown open behind you. You turned to see Beomgyu barreling towards you, practically collapsing to the ground in front of you. He took your face in his hands, eyes frantically searching yours.

 “Are you okay?” He asked, his fingers gently running along the length of your cheeks.

 You nodded, smiling even though tears began to pool in your eyes. “Beomgyu,” You said quietly, lifting your hands to hold his wrists. “You knew, didn’t you?”

 “Knew what?”

 “That you’re my soulmate.”

 He paused, the worry in his face slowly being replaced by a wide, sparkling smile.

 “So you finally figured it out, huh?” He said, brushing a strand of your hair back behind your ear. “If you didn’t figure it out after tonight, I wasn’t sure how else I was supposed to show you.”

 You laughed, a tear slipping down your cheek as you tightened your grip on his wrists. His expression changed once again, brows knit with concern. “Are—are you crying? What’s wrong?”

 “No, nothing, it’s fine,” You assured him, resting your forehead against his. “I’m just happy. I’m so, so happy, Beomgyu.”

 He sighed with relief, wrapping his arms around you in a hug, pulling you snugly into his chest. His chin rested on top of your head as you slipped your arms around his middle, pulling him even closer than he already was.

 “I was a little worried that you’d be disappointed when you found out it was me,” He said with a light laugh.

 You shook your head against his chest, snuggling even closer to him. “Of course not. You’re exactly who I hoped it would be, Choi Beomgyu.”

 The two of you stayed like that for a bit longer before Beomgyu pulled away and stood up in front of you.

 The boy with stars for eyes and a smile that outshone the moon stretched his hand out towards you, fingers shaking from the cold, cheeks flushed from your embrace.

 “Should we run away?” He asked.

 This time, you placed your hand in his and let him pull you to your feet.

[knjsnoona]

Restoration

genre: smut || slice of life pairing: jin x reader word Count: 10.1k rating: 18+ warnings: language, light dom!jin, explicit sexual descriptions, choking, fingering summary: Return to your childhood hone with your partner, Jin only to discover how much it’s changed. project: this part of the bcc summer games event~ it’s was for the image prompt which is the one under the name of the fic in the banner lol this was meant to be short, but then i included this whole first half smh credits: a HUGE thank you goes to my amazing beta reader @destructiveasparagus​ ! helped me find where my weaknesses lie and super incredibly helpful in how to learn from my mistakes! thank you so so much! i hope to improve with my future works!

It had been a long time since you’d been to your hometown, so long you barely recognized it as you drove in with your fiancé. Streets you once ran around on as a child—knowing each backstreet like the back of your hand—now seemed like the paths of a maze; roads that stirred distant memories of laughter and joy. 

Eyes catching new shops where your favorite childhood hangouts once stood, a dull ache laced with both nostalgia and discomfort begins to stir within you. It seems the town had decided to be more modern… more suburban you guessed. It kind of made you sad if you were honest with yourself. You were expecting to return to the home you once loved, and to be bathed in the memories of each corner, shop, and alley.

Becoming more frustrated with each new sight you didn’t recognize, you sink into your seat releasing a sigh. Crossing your arms loosely over your chest, you look down at your knees. Chewing the inside of your cheek, you pondered what your neighborhood would look like. You hoped against hope that at least that small corner of your memories wouldn’t be betrayed. 

“You okay?”

Catching your attention, you look to the side at your fiancé who had turned to look at you as he made a stop at a red light. His handsome features twisted into concern, which brought a small smile to your lips. Softly nodding, you try to assuage his worries.

“I’m fine, Seokjin. Just realizing how long it’s been since I was home is all,” melancholy weaving into your voice, gaze forlornly sweeping out the windows of the vehicle again. 

“Changed that much, huh?” eyes still on you, every so often shuffling to make sure the street light hadn’t changed yet. 

You nod, watching as a couple of teenage girls walk with some name brand iced coffees in their hands, eyes glued to their phones, as they giggled about something mundane. Feeling like a creep for staring, you shake your head and look back at the man by your side. “It’s definitely changed.... too much.”

God, you’d never identified with a boomer harder than you did at this very moment. Words of when I was kid at the tip of your tongue, wanting to rant about all the things you remembered as a kid and how it had been ruined now. You’d never regretted leaving home before, not until this moment. All of your treasured spots, destroyed by gentrification. How depressing. 

But then you look at what you had gained from your departure from home and you realize how silly you’re being. You had found tons of struggle out in the world on your own. Learned what it was like to truly live in a woman’s world; having to work twice as hard for half the pay of a man; earning the way you had to always be cautious and on the lookout for dangers that lurked around every corner when the sun went down; learned how to pick yourself back up and work harder, when you were passed up on a promotion in favor of the manager’s son. 

But you made it through every obstacle. You were a fighter, and never shied away from fighting to get what you wanted. To deal with the dangers of walking around at night, you took self defense classes. You quit the job that underpaid you. And when the manager at that other job finally offered you that promotion, you gave them your two weeks. You decided to take a position at a startup company that saw your worth, valued your opinions and took your ideas into consideration. A company where you were promoted and given more power to help it grow. It had grown into a multimillion-dollar business. Whose technology had been implemented in every hospital in the country. And the genius behind its creation and production sat by your side.

Kim Seokjin had been a godsend. You’d bumped into him one night at a bar after a particularly rough day of work. You had dropped into the seat beside him, not sparing a single glance his way as you ordered a beer. Shoulders slumping, you rubbed at your eyes in frustration pushing your tears back in. Noticing your distress, he reached out to you. He asked after your well being, taking you by surprise. Cautiously you spoke to him that night, only to be pleasantly surprised by his kind nature. While sharing the struggles of your days with each other, he brought up his start up and how he was looking to fill the position. Handing you a card before you both parted ways, he offered you a position without even knowing your qualifications. 

Long story short, you took the position, worked your way up and fell in love with the company's CEO. Of course, there were those that always felt the need to fill the office with unnecessary drama. Hushed whispers in the break rooms, and muttered words across the cubicles of how you had slept your way to the top. But you shrugged them all off, no water off a duck’s back right? Besides, how do you sleep your way to the top of a tiny startup? There was no top or bottom. The tomfoolery of the envious, honestly.

The car jerking into motion brings you back to the present. Blinking the memories of the past decade or so out of the way. Vision returning to your present day home town, suddenly not so bothered by the changes. Your home had grown up and adapted, just as you had. That thought alone brings a smile to your face. A hand slipping over your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze, making you completely beam as you take Jin's hand in your own ringed hand. Placing a soft kiss on the back of his hand, as you hold it tenderly in your lap, his quiet laugh filling the space in the car as you continued on your way.

Some ten minutes later, you pull up the front of your childhood home; warmth filling your chest as you notice how little it’s changed. Aside from a few cosmetic changes it was still the same. And there they were, all the memories rushing in at once. The feelings you had been anticipating finally hit you. Now you felt like you were truly home as you were surrounded by all the wonderful memories of your childhood. 

A gentle hand on your lower back brings you back, you smile up at Jin who stands by your side. A reassuring smile adorns his plush lips, as he rubs small circles on your back in a show of support and affection.

“You ready?”

Taking one large lung full of air, you hold it for a couple beats before deflating and nodding up at him. The steadying warmth of his hand on your lower back fills you with all the confidence you needed as you made your way up the stone patch. 

Worries of how your family would react to you being back niggling the back of your mind. You tried to keep in touch as much as you could but there were times it was almost impossible due to financial stability or work load. Damn, a small bit of guilt began to bloom in your chest. So you stand frozen, finger just a few inches from the doorbell. Maybe you should’ve called before showing up. 

Sensing your internal struggle, Jin wraps his arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his side. Plush lips press to the crown of your head leaving a quick kiss. “Everything’s going to be fine, babe,” he whispers into your hair. 

“How do you know? I mean- I’ve been gone so long… they have to be angry with me. What if they think I don't care?” you fret, teeth gnawing at the inside of your bottom lip, hands twisting into the hem of your shirt, wrinkling the smooth fabric in the anxiety. 

Chuckling softly, the arm around you turns you to face the tall male. Eyes roam your face, a warmth in them that always somehow seem to soothe your nerves. And sooth they did as you could feel your worries begin to ebb away. 

“Hey, none of that,” he chastises, as he presses his hand lightly to your jaw, thumb tugging your bottom lip down. “You’re going to chew yourself raw. And we don’t want that. I don’t want you hurting yourself.” He places a gentle kiss on your lips as if to soothe away any stinging there.

Your lips can’t help but spread into a smile at how he was being such a mother hen. He was always like this, not just with you but with his employees as well. It’s what made him such a good boss, and an even better partner. Lady luck was feeling extremely generous the day she led you to Jin in that quaint bar.

Returning your smile, he quickly places multiple kisses around your face—on your nose, your cheeks, and your forehead. Arms wrapping around your waist to hold you close, as you giggle at the onslaught of kisses he bestowed you with. The sound of his mirth joining yours, pulling back to hold your cheeks gently. Eyes looking into your own as he assures you, “Everything is going to be fine, so stop stressing for once. We’re here to relax okay?”

Sighing, you nod with a smile still perched on your face. “You’re the best, you know that?”

“Of course, I am. And the most handsome!” all the confidence in the world seeping out of his words, smugness painting over his pretty features. 

You scoff playfully, smacking his arm. “And yet you like claiming you’re humble,” shaking your head you turn back to the door and ring the doorbell without hesitation. 

“Well, I’m not bragging if it’s a fact,” comes his witty retort which has your eyes rolling. This was nothing new with him, the man knew he was good looking. I mean you’d have to be blind to not think so as well. But you know, can’t let his ego inflate too big. 

“I don’t know… I've seen better looking,” you shrug nonchalantly as you press the doorbell again, hoping someone was actually home. Yeah, you definitely should’ve called ahead. 

“What? Where? Who is he!? Wait, are you talking about that kid in marketing? What’s his name?” he instantly barrages you with a succession of questions, jealousy bleeding into his tone. “That pretty boy with the deep voice! You-”

He’s suddenly cut off by the jingling of a handle and the lock being turned, as the door swings open. Your mother stands before you, surprise marring her features. Features that remained the same after all these years, a few wrinkles showing her age joined the painting that was your mother’s face. You’d pictured—imagined—scenarios of seeing her again, of how it would go but the feelings you felt now were far more intense than anything your mind could conjure up. . 

You were sure the shock she wore was mirrored by you, as you stood there taking the other in. Your heart hammered away at your chest, pumping emotions into every vein throughout your body until it began to leak out of your eyes. As the first drop made it’s journey down your cheek, you stepped forward prompting your mother to mirror your actions, crashing into each other's arms. You didn’t realize you could miss someone so much and up until that point had been unaware that you had missed being held in the arms of your mother.

You could feel her tears seep through the shirt on your shoulder, happy greetings and words blubbered in excitement. Laughing you pull back enough to look at her, a watery smile greeting you. 

“I’ve missed you, Momma,” your voice trembling with the emotions overtaking you. 

“I’ve missed you too, sweet pea. I’m so happy to see you safe and healthy. I was worried you weren’t eating well this whole time. I know how you can get, you get too involved in what you’re working on and forget to eat,” your mother rambles on, word vomit just pouring out of her. All the words she hasn’t been able to share with you now fill the space between you. As a teenager you would’ve been annoyed, but now as a grown adult you were endeared by her light nagging. 

“She still does that,” Jin's voice catching both of your attention. “Not eat, I mean.”

You turn to him, a self-satisfied smile on his lips, and an incredulous look on yours. Wow, not even two minutes, and he was already selling you out to your mother. You shake your head at him, eyes trying to signal for him to stop. He simply chuckles back.

“Oh is that right?” Your mother gives you a look, before looking back at your handsome partner. “And who might this be?” Eyebrows raise in question to you. 

“Oh! I’m so sorry. Momma, this is my, um, fiancé, Kim Seokjin. Jin this is my mother,” you awkwardly introduce them. Biting the corner of your lip as you look at your mother out of the corner of your eye. 

She looks at you, surprised at your engaged status, which you hadn’t had the chance to bring up during the brief, rare calls home. You can see the message hidden in her eyes, we’ll talk about this later, before turning to Jin. “It's a pleasure to finally meet you. My, you’re a handsome one.”

You close your eyes and internally groan before turning to Jin pointing a cocky smile your way. He sure was annoying when he was proven right. Gloating prick.

He gives you a quick eyebrow wiggle before turning to smile at your mother. “You’re too kind, really,” acting embarrassed, as he rubs the back of his neck and bows in gratitude once more.

“Oh! And he’s modest!” your mothers cheers delightedly.

Wow, he pulled the fake modesty card. You shake your head at him as you quietly scoff, lips almost quirked in a smile, as he winks at you. He was something else. But he was your something else. He was worth it. Headaches, terrible jokes and all.

“So… is anyone else home?” you questioned, curious as to whether your father, or if any of your siblings, were around. You weren’t sure if they’d be as welcoming as your mother, but her warmth and acceptance of you returning gave you the confidence to continue forward. 

Your mother nods at you excitedly, wrapping an arm around yours and moving you towards the door. Jin follows behind amused as your mother explains how one of your aunts was visiting with her family, and how a couple of your siblings were in town. She went a mile a minute, spewing out even the latest family gossip—your father’s brother had cheated on his wife, your cousin had come out of the closet after being caught mid act (“What a scandalous event that was!”) and even how your mother’s eldest sister had beat breast cancer. 

You sighed happily as you let your mother lead the way, Jin flanking behind you. Man it felt good to be home.

“We got incredibly lucky,” you said loudly, as you placed a small pile of folded clothes in a drawer. Pacing back over to the suitcase on the bed, pulling out your underwear to place in the same drawer to one side. 

“What?” Jin called from the room over. 

“I said we got lucky!” you replied, voice louder than before.

“Lucky?”

“Yeah. We‘re lucky they didn’t charge a cancellation fee at the hotel.” 

Your mother, after making the rounds with the family, had insisted you stay in your old room. You were surprised that it had remained as you had left it. You were sure it would’ve been turned into a home gym by now, or a man cave for your brother that was still home. The fact that it was still intact, filled you with emotion. Your mother must have held out hope you’d come back, so when she insisted you agreed, unable to deny her request.

Of course there was the task of cancelling your hotel reservation, which everyone knows last minute cancellations come with some hefty cancellation fees. You felt bad as you had dialed the number on your cell, but Jin assured you it was fine and was worth it if you were happy. 

As Jin worked on unloading the luggage, you spoke with the concierge who upon looking up the reservation, gifted you with the surprise of not incurring a late fee. You had been surprised and tried to verify the cancellation policy to which the male on the other end confirmed there would be no charge and wished you a pleasant day. You returned the sentiment as you hung up and looked at your partner in mild stupor before relaying the information to which he raised his eyebrows and shrugged, bringing in the rest of your belongings. 

“You're still stuck on that?” he points out, humor ringing in his voice. 

“Well, isn’t it a bit surprising to you?” you huff, cheeks puffing a bit in a pout. 

“I guess…” he trails off momentarily. You could hear the gears turning before he returned with, “Maybe it’s because they saw who I was.”

“What? Why would that matter?” You had a feeling you knew where this was going, and could already feel your eyes preemptively rolling.

“Because, I’m the youngest, most handsome CEO in the nation.” A wheezing laugh following his words, almost sounding like windshield wipers.

Your eyes roll so hard, you see the back of your skull, and into an alternate universe. Why did you put up with him again? And as the sound of a door opening fills the space, you remember one of the reasons as he walks through the door. Towel wrapped loosely around his hips, muscles flexing as he rubbed his hair dry with another towel, he stood in all his glory. Your eyes chase drops of water running down his wet skin, swallowing hard where they disappear into the material knotted around his narrow hips. 

“Sweetheart, you’re making me blush with all the ogling,” he chuckles smugly. “I get it though.”

You snap out of your daze, eyes narrowing at his cocky face in annoyance. Shaking your head, you choose to ignore him—turning back to your bag, grabbing some of your toiletries to place on the dresser. Distracted by your task you don’t notice Jin walk up behind you, until you’re tugged back into his wet torso. 

“You know,” he mutters into your ear, “I haven’t forgotten that little quip from earlier.” One of his large hands slides up your body, finding its home wrapped around your jaw. He tilts your head back into his shoulder, his other arm wrapping around your waist to pull you further into his form. “You think that kid in the office is better looking than me.”

You take a few calming breaths, body becoming alert with excitement as Jin invades your space. Every word and touch begins to stir desire within you.

“I never said that. You assumed… you know what they say about when you assume,” you can’t help but gibe, lips tugging up in a smirk.

A growl rumbles through you as the grip on your jaw tightens slightly. “Don't be a smart ass… I’ve seen the way you look at him, when you think no one is aware. I’m not an idiot.” 

You chuckle, unable to help yourself. His jealous words turn you on more than they should. 

“I can’t help it if he’s pretty to look at,” you state complacently.

“Pretty?” he chuckles at your audacity, grip tightening slightly around your jaw. Swinging your jaw away from the direction of his face, the feel of his lips brushing the shell of your ear makes you shiver. “You do look at him. Tell me, do you fantasize about him?”

Your eyes shut, the warmth of his breath traveling through your trapped body; an aching starting to pulse between your thighs. Hands moving back to rest on his towel covered thighs to help maintain balance, but more importantly to assist in feeling grounded.

“You do, don't you…?” His nose nuzzles at your ear, lips pressing behind your ear. “Is that why you stare? Because you imagine what it would be like to have him inside you?” the arm wrapped around your waist loosens, hand traveling south to the apex of your thighs. 

You bite your lip, unable to answer his questions. His touch leaves trails of flames wherever they roam, burning any words from you. His words are simmering your blood. 

“Is your silence an admission?” he says with a slight edge to his voice. “You imagine him sliding into you? Taking you? As if you're his?” His grip on your jaw moves to your throat, fingers wrapping deliciously around the smooth muscle and flesh. 

“You’ll never be his,” he hisses. The hand between your thighs grips your core tightly, a whine escaping your lips at the slight pain and pleasure. “This,” grip tightening for emphasis, “is mine! Your cunt belongs to me. My cock will be the only one to ever claim it,” Jin growls into your ear, hips pressing his hard member into your ass. 

Fuck, that was enough to ruin your underwear. His words release the floodgates, slick escaping your lower lips to soak your panties. The growl rumbling against your back, and vibrating in your ear has your mind blanking for a moment, thighs clenching involuntarily around his wrist.

“Turned on by that?” he crows, self gratification filling every word. “Do you like hearing me claim you? The affirmation that no other man will ever ruin this pretty pussy like me?”

Your breath hitches, a strong pulse running through your body like seismic activity relaying that an eruption is imminent. With the way Jin is rutting into your back, hand gently petting your mound, it was only a matter of time before he had you bursting in ecstasy. 

His lips lightly trail up and down the shell of your ear, removing his hand from your throat to grip at your jaw and tilt your face up at him. Faces so close, your noses brush, breaths intermingling. He pulls back his head, looking down at you as the corner of his lip lifts in smirk just as he shoves his other hand under the band of your underwear. Long, warm fingers softly run over your lips, massaging gentle circles into them. 

Licking his luscious lips, he hisses when one his fingers swipes between your lips. “Fuck,” he groans, biting his thick lip. “You’re this wet from a few words... '' A finger swirling around your opening, spreading your juices. The digit slides up to your sensitive nub, giving it the same attention. Pressing down with a bit of pressure, rolling it around making you arch your back, eyes clenching. 

You feel Jin nudge your nose with his own, brushing his lips against yours. Eyes fluttering open, they meet his dark eyes, completely blow black from his arousal. Pink muscle slipping from his lips, sliding across yours teasingly while his hips slowly press against yours to get a bit of relief as your hands grip the towel resting over his flexing thighs. Your lips part, inviting his devilish tongue in, the prelude of you parting your legs for his length. 

Taking the invitation, Jin shoves his tongue into your awaiting mouth. The moist muscle wrestling with yours as you kiss each other desperately. Both of you beyond the point of slow and steady when he shoves two digits into your core, his mouth trapping the groan he rips out of you. With no patience, the digits set a steady pace as his palm presses into your clit. Your hips buck at the sudden onslaught of stimulation. Your lips crash against each other like waves, teeth clacking as you try to get closer. 

He pulls back from the kiss provoking a whine from you. His jaw clenches as his fingers fuck into your hole, scissoring your walls, preparing you for him. You press your ass into him, feeling how hard he is, your walls quiver around his fingers. 

“No more,” you moan quietly. 

“What’s wrong, baby? Too much?” he lazily grins down at you, grinding the palm of his palm down on your nub.

Your eyebrows pinch at the stimulation, lips parting without a sound escaping before you’re able to gather your senses again. “No… no more foreplay.” Your lusty gaze meets his, your chest heaving as you try to even it out. “I want you inside me now,” reaffirming how it was only him you wanted. 

He pulls you into a hard kiss, pulling his hand out of your pants. Releasing your jaw, he yanks your pants and underwear down your thighs. Lifting your legs to kick them off, he rotates your bodies to walk you back into the bed, nearly ripping your shirt off you. You almost fall as your legs hit the bed, ripping his lips from yours. You both gasp for air as you stare at each other for a moment. 

His hand slides into your hair, scratching soothingly at your scalp before gripping it in a firm hold. Turning your face to the side, he leans in, licking a stripe up your neck to your ear. He takes the lobe of your ear between his teeth teasingly tugging it. Pressing a kiss to the shell of your ear, he nuzzles the hair behind it, breath tickling your ear pleasurably.

“Turn around. I want you bent over this bed, with your ass in the air for me. I want to see how your cunt weeps for me.” 

His words strike a hard cord within you, goosebumps appearing all over your flesh. You bite your lip, turning your body away from him and move into position. Feeling it wasn’t enough, he uses the grip on your strands to push you down further into the comforter, back completely arched now. 

Strands slipping between his fingers as he removes his hand, the other palms your ass cheek, pulling it to the side to look at your core. The groan that leaves him makes you clench. 

“Look how pretty… so wet and inviting. Look how your hole clenches, begging for my dick.” His other hand grabs onto the opposite cheek, pulling it away to open you even more to him. Pressing his hips to yours, he slots his length against your soaked lips. Slowly rubbing his member up and down, lubricating himself with your slick.

Every word makes you clench, the desire raging inside you growing desperate for him to fill you. Every throb of the thick shaft almost makes you delirious. 

Eyes previously squeezed shut flutter open, as your hands grip the comforter. A childish print catches your attention, suddenly the realization hits you. You’re back at your childhood home, in a house full of relatives. You weren’t alone in this house, and they weren’t asleep. Now that you had awareness, you could hear them beyond the door chattering. You had let lust get away with you. 

“Jin wait…” you hiss.

He stops all movement, one of hands gently petting your lower back. “Did I hurt you? Are you okay?” worry slipping into his words.

“No no. You didn’t hurt me. I just… I realized we’re not alone. We can’t do this here. My family is right out there,” you explain in a loud whisper, trying to look at him over your shoulder.

Silence reigns for a moment.

“So?” Jin's single word pierces the quiet.

“What?” you question, baffled by his nonchalance.

“What does that matter?” He shifts before pressing against you, the head of his cock prodding at your bud. He leans over your back, hands resting on your hips. “It doesn’t bother me, and it never has to you either. You never complain when I fuck you in my office, surrounded by all of our coworkers... our employees.” 

You swallow hard.

“In fact, you love initiating it. Teasing me in front of them, riling me up.” His hips thrust, length slipping between your lower lips, cushioned comfortably between them.

“T-that’s different.” you try to argue, but his throbbing manhood against you makes it hard. “Thi-this is my family… who I haven't seen in a long time. I can’t h-have them thinking badly of me.”

He’s quiet but for a minute before wrapping a hand around your mouth. “Then you better keep quiet,” is the quick warning he hisses in your ear as he pushes his length into you.

His hand traps the sound of your yelp. Your walls stretch deliciously but sting at his abrupt intrusion as he buries himself completely. He doesn’t move, allowing you to adjust, placing gentle kisses over your shoulder. His hand massages circles into your hip. 

Unable to verbally notify him it was okay to move, you opt for using your hips as you push back against him. Getting the hint, his hips pull back slowly before pushing back in at the same agonizingly passive pace. Lips still pressing kisses to your soft skin, hips lazily snapping into you . 

You whine, wanting more. 

“Needy already,” he chuckles and places one last kiss to your flesh before standing to his full height. Both hands now resting on your hips, pulling you back so he can grind himself inside your spongy walls. “Remember, not a sound. Your family is out there.”

What a jackass, you can’t help but think as you glare back at him, that damn cocky smile on his lips. You open your mouth to retort but it quickly snaps shut as he pulls back and snaps back in. The action was so hard, you almost thought he’d speared straight into your stomach. 

He slides out slowly again before plunging roughly back in. Filling you so completely, each hard impale burning pleasurably. Hands sliding to push your cheeks apart, he watches himself disappear between your folds as he sets a steady pace. 

The sound of your sex gushing with each probe of his shaft makes you grow wetter. Slick running down the inside of your thighs, as he pushes it out of you, clit pulsing with each invasion. 

It isn’t long before he angles his hips, in search of that spot he enjoys so much. It’s with one particular push that he finds it, as you lifted onto your toes and arched your back signaling him. A whine trapped behind teeth that bite down hard on your lips as he hits it again is all the confirmation he needs.

He sets about burrowing into you, head meeting that patch of spongy tissue over and over;building an inferno in the pit of your stomach with each visit. Your legs begin to tremble as you part your lips. 

“H-harder, please,” you quietly moan, almost breathless, trying to keep your volume down. 

“Whatever my baby wants, she gets.” His thrusts turn piercing. Hips smacking into yours hard, hands gripping you bruisingly hard. Over the smacks of your hips that filled the room, you can hear him groan softly with each shove. It made you clench around him, causing his hips to stutter briefly before returning to their bruising pace.

“Your pussy is so hot and wet. You're soaking my thighs baby,” he groans out, smacking into you harder. “Squeezing me so tight, begging me to fuck you harder.” 

A smack to your behind pulls a yelp from you. Panicking, you bring a hand to cover your mouth, hoping no one heard that. Worry niggling at you again before it’s promptly fucked right out of you by Jin's hips speeding up their brutal pace. 

“I wish I could hear you baby,” he rasps, sounding just as breathless as you are. “I want to hear you moan for me… begging to cum… I want to hear you scream my name.”

You feel the bed dip beside you, as he places a foot down. Elevating his leg, he creates a new angle to spear your core. Hands finding purchase above your hips, he anchors his hold, hips pulled back. 

“Remember… we don't want to get found out.”

With those words he pushes into you quickly and roughly. Each thrust drags you to and fro on the bed, rubbing your nipples raw against the material. His hips unrelenting in their assault of you. Pistoning deep, making sure to brush your g-spot with each insertion. 

His actions have you crying into the comforter, as it catches and cushions your cries, groans and mantras of his name. Hands clenching the material so tight, your fingers were going numb. You wanted to fuck back into him, but his tight grip on you and his brutal pace allowed no room to. 

“Fuck your so good to me. Your pussy is so perfect. So tight and warm. And it's. Only. Mine.” Accentuating each word with a sharp thrust. Laying his full claim to your core.

Fingers wrapping in your tangled strands, he guides you to stand, back leaning against his chest as the other hand grips your throat, fingers pressing down on your pressure points. The pressure fueling the fire of your impending orgasm, as the new angle only adds fuel to the already roaring wildfire. 

“Who does your cunt belong to?” he growls into your ear.

You hardly breath, nevermind gracing him with an answer. But as he adds pressure to your throat, you gasp out, “You.”

“That’s right,” he moans, self-satisfied, slowing his pace to grind into you slow and deep. “Mine. Only mine to ruin. Only mine to paint with my cum.” 

His words hit you hard, as you clench hard around him, groaning in sync with him as waves pulse through you. You were so close, you knew he could tell as the fingers previously tangled in your hair, now pressed circles into the bundle of nerves buried in your folds. 

You throw your head back, gasps of air leaving your parted lips. Your nails dig into the sweaty flesh of his thighs, hips bucking back into his. You try your hardest to not be too loud, as your face twists into nothing but pure pleasure. 

You were so close, so close you were quietly pleading Jin to cum. His name becomes a prayer on your lips, that fuels his own need. The sound of his name desperately falling from your lips makes him almost feral in the way he fucks you. Plunging into you so hard and fast, that the unmistakable sounds of flesh slapping flesh could be heard through the room, the sound accompanied by the filthy sounds of your dripping arousal. 

A guttural moan leaves your lips, as he pinches your bud, which he promptly cuts off by slotting his mouth over yours. Kissing you greedly, wanting to swallow every wanton sound.

The next moment, a fire spreads through your veins, as your whole body seizes at the arrival of your orgasm. Loud moans of pleasure, swallowed as promised by Jin's mouth as he kisses you sloppily. Your hips buck into his digits as they continue to stimulate your nub. 

Jin’s hips continue to push through your ever tightening walls and begin to stutter in their assault, just before he pushes deep inside as you feel him paint your walls. Now it’s your turn to ingest all the sounds of his orgasm. The hand around your throat tightens, making you light headed with pleasure, as his other hand over stimulates your nub, thighs tightening to stop him. 

Milking himself dry, he soon slows down and comes to a complete stop. Pulling your lips apart, a string of saliva keeps your bruised lips connected. The grip around your hips sustains your standing position, as your legs feel weak post orgasm. 

Jin’s ever softening length, slips out of you making you both shiver. Gentle as he could be, he guides you to take a seat on the bed. 

“Are you okay? Did I hurt you at all?” He looks you over, checking for any bruises from his manhandling.

This is what made him such an amazing lover. How caring he is about his partner after making love to them. It was always so fascinating to see him turn from domineering to self-effacing. Always taking care to ask how you felt after, soothing any places he may have gone too far and holding you gently in his arms. 

It simply warms your heart, as you smile up at his broad shouldered form standing before you. Placing a hand over the one he’d placed on your cheek and giving it a reassuring squeeze, you say, “I’m fine, Jin. I always am when I'm with you,” 

He beams down at you just before he places a kiss lovingly on your forehead. Thumb caressing your cheek, resting his forehead against yours. A warmth radiating from his eyes as he traps you in his gaze. 

“I love you.”

Your heart skips a beat at the words said so simply, stomach a buzz with a storm of bees. You would never tire of hearing him say them to you, always feeling like the first time he’d confessed the depth of his feelings. 

“I love you more,” you return, biting your lip giddily. 

A smile reaches his eyes, as he grins widely. His cheeks puff up, giving him the look of an adorable squirrel storing acorns. His lips press to yours, no movement necessary. Just a simple press, feeling more intimate than what you had previously been engaged in. 

He pulls back with a questioning look in his eyes, when he feels you shiver, almost spilling from his lips before you speak.

“Sorry, um just felt it slipping out of me,” you murmur, embarrassed, eyes not meeting his.

He chuckles, wide shoulders shaking in his mirth. Kissing you again he mutters, “You’re so cute sometimes.” 

Slipping an arm around your back and one beneath your knees, he lifts you effortlessly. You wrap your arms around his neck, looking at him in confusion. He ignores your inquisitive eyes, making his way to the door he’d left not long before that led to your en suite bathroom.

“I think we should take a shower.”

“You just had a shower.”

“Yes, but after working up a sweat I need another, and together we can help preserve water.”

You roll your eyes, skeptical of him. “Sure, but no funny business!”

“No promises.”

You disappear into the bathroom with you protesting and Jin laughing.

You had been back home for a couple of days, and it had been enjoyable to say the least. Getting settled in, introducing Jin to more of your family that stopped by when they heard about your return, catching up with the extended family, and even some of your friends who still lived in town. 

Jin seemed happy to be able to relax, your family welcoming him completely. He had admitted to you how much he appreciated being welcomed with open arms. He loved how large your family was, and the affection they shared so easily, compared to his small family of just his parents and himself. 

You knew he also loved that they ate up his terrible jokes like hotcakes. Not to mention how your mother seemed to love cooking him meals, always blushing when he praised the meals and asking for seconds. It was also obvious how much your family stroked his ego when they complimented his looks. You knew this would be bad once the time came for you to go back to your shared home, ego so inflated you weren’t sure you’d be able to fit in the car with him. But you’d be lying if you said you weren’t content at how things had turned out. 

You had only gone out once since arriving, taking a stroll through the new town center, hands held in his as he listened attentively to you recount tales of your childhood. Every so often you’d stop and point out a location, describing what once took up residence in the spot of a newly erected business or apartment complex. You had stayed out till the sun had begun to make its descent, ice creams in hand as you walked back to your home.

It was that same evening upon returning home to have dinner with your family—filling your family in on your adventures—that your mother informed you about the state of your favorite place growing up. Feeling your heart drop, as she described it in more detail. When you had made your way to your room afterwards, Jin had stopped you and asked you if you wanted to visit the location. After hearing your mother’s disheartening news you weren’t sure, but Jin simply encouraged you to go see it with your own eyes.

That’s how you now found yourself tripping over a root as you trekked through the small forest not far from your parent’s home. A large hand steadying you before you eat dirt, you murmur a thank you before continuing on your way. It’s not long before you reach a clearing, that only cements your mother’s words as true. Your sad eyes survey the once beautiful lake, now nothing but a public garbage disposal. The water was murky, filled with so much debris and garbage it looked like sludge. The land surrounding the water was no better. The once pristine swimming hole was now a small landfill. 

Placing a hand on your shoulder, you feel Jin give you a comforting squeeze. You rest your hand over his, intertwining your fingers, you sigh defeatedly, turning to bury your face in his chest. Wrapping his arms around you, he kisses the crown of your head and lays his cheek on it. The two of you bathe in the silence, all signs of forest life now muted in the wake of the destruction of their home. You doubted anyone even still lived here, the land so completely uninhabitable. 

“This place used to be so beautiful,” you muse dejectedly, laying your cheek over his heart. “So full of life…”

Jin glides his fingers through your hair, listening closely.

“As a kid, I used to think this was the secret home of a fairy kingdom. Where a kind prince ruled over his subjects with a gentle fist. Adding color, and brilliance to nature here. At least, that’s the story my mother would tell,” you regale him, hands clutching his thin shirt. 

“When she would bring my siblings and I here, and the water shimmered so beautifully, she’d say it was the fairy prince welcoming us to play in his kingdom. And when we’d visit in the evening once the sun had dipped down, balls of blinking lights dancing through the cool air, she’d say they were the fairies dancing in glee at our visit.”

You could feel tears form behind your lash line, tilting your head up as to not let them fall. You feel childish speaking of fairy tales to your fiancé, growing upset to the point you’re about to cry over it. Yet you couldn’t help yourself. This place was such a large part of your childhood, and if you were honest with yourself, it was the place you had been most anxious to visit. To see it destroyed to this degree broke your heart. 

Sensing the dive in your emotions, Jin pulls back, taking your face in his hands, eyes roaming over your face in sympathy. “Don’t cry, sweetheart. Maybe we can do something.”

You tilt your head, wondering what he could mean. Blinking up at him, wet lashes sticking together. “What do you mean?” 

Placidly smiling down at you, his thumb wipes away the stray tears beneath your eyes. “I don’t know, maybe we could try to clean up. Try to restore it to its former glory,” he shrugs, shoving his hands in his pockets, eyes sweeping the clearing. 

You stupidly blink at him, mouth slightly ajar. Your heart begins to swell with so much affection that it feels as if it could pop out of your chest. The waterworks come back full force, lips trembling with emotion. 

Noticing your silence he glances back to you, eyes widening with panic, hands hovering in front of him in uncertainty. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong? Was it something I said?” 

Shaking your head, you throw your arms around him. Burrowing your face into his neck, standing on your tiptoes. “I love you so much,” you tearfully declare. 

He returns your hold, lifting you up, an affectionate smile pulling at his plump lips. “What’s all this for, you big softie?” he teasingly murmurs.

“I just… I just feel so lucky to be with you.” You can’t help the emotions pouring out of you, unable to keep them inside when it comes to him. You weren’t sure what you had done in this life to deserve him, but you swore to whatever entity was out there that you would prove yourself worthy of him. For all the days you were gifted with being by his side, you would be the best partner possible. 

“Well you are pretty blessed to look upon this handsome face every day.” 

You smack his arm, body shaking with restrained laughter. “You’re incorrigible!” you exclaim, barely containing the joy glowing on your face. 

Windshield wiper screeches fill the air, as he backs away from you rubbing at the spot you’d hit. His laugh was something uniquely him that always called attention. No matter whether you found it odd, or not, it always made you join him. It was a trait you found completely endearing.

Your laughs begin to quiet, a few residual chuckles escaping you. You look at each other, affection and mirth mirroring one another. 

“Did you really mean it?”

He hums questioningly, raising his brows.

“About trying to clean up here?” 

“Of course, I do,” he nods. “We’ve still got a few more days left here. We can go buy industrial trash bags, maybe some equipment to help us pick up the garbage, and we’ll definitely need some protection,” he continues to list off.

A smile growing on your own lips, you hug his arm, squirming against him excitedly. “Okay! Let’s do it!”

“Yeah?” he questions, amused at your behavior. You nod enthusiastically and chuckle, beginning to walk off. “Well, what are we waiting for? No time like the present right?”

You agree, a pep to your step excitedly discussing the possibility of hopefully saving a part of your childhood.

“It’s so hot!” you whine, stretching your aching back as you wipe the sweat from your forehead. You roll your neck, trying to loosen your tense muscles from being hunched over with the trash pick-up stick. 

Since your first visit to the Fae Kingdom, which you had taken to calling it affectionately, you had spent the last few days clearing the area around the body of sludge. It was hard labor and the two of you always arrived home sorely exhausted, passing out as soon as your bodies hit the bed. On a couple of occasions, your siblings joined you carrying some of the workload. 

Thanks to their help and the determination to see things through, you were actually able to now see the floor of the hidden glade. There wasn’t much trash left, so you were currently taking care of what was left while Jin was using a pool skimmer to collect the junk in the lake. 

It was a particularly sunny, and humid day. The air felt incredibly thick with moisture, making it a bit harder to breathe. Not to mention how you were sweating buckets. You had both shed some layers, hating how uncomfortable it felt to have the fabric sticking to your skin. 

After complaining about the heat, you toss your stick on the ground, making your way over to a small blanket you laid out to take breaks. Lowering onto your knees, you grab a bottle of water and take a generous gulp. The cool liquid soothes your rising body temperature. Capping the bottle, you roll it on your forehead, trying to cool yourself down. 

Rolling back on your knees, you land with a soft thud on your behind, enjoying the shade the tall trees provided. Taking a deep breath, you release it slowly before choking on it. Coughing violently, as your eyes almost bug out of your head. 

Standing about ten feet in front of you, by the edge of the water was a broad shouldered god. Muscles flexing beneath lightly sun kissed skin, beads of sweat rolling down his back, burly arms bulging with each bend as he lifts the skimmer out of the water. 

How in the hell was this herculean man real? 

You sigh in awe, before looking up, hands clasped together as you whisper a thank you up above. 

“What are you doing?”

You jump as his voice breaks the quiet atmosphere. Your eyes hastily fall on him as you reply in a high pitch, “Nothing!” Your cheeks begin to warm, staining with embarrassment.

His brows pinch, not fully believing you. Shaking his head, he turns to shake the skimmer into a large black bag. Setting it to the side, he swipes sweat off his brow. He turns and makes his way to you, pulling the work gloves off his large hands, stuffing them in the back pocket of his dark jeans. Coming to a stop at the edge of the blanket, he crouches down reaching his hand out for a drink. 

Leaning back, you pull a cool bottle out of the cooler and hand it to him. You watch as he takes a large swig, before swiftly emptying the rest over his head. Brushing his hair back, his dark eyes rest on you. One corner of his plush lips pulls up at the unhidden admiration on your face. 

“Come here.” He crooks a finger, signalling you closer. 

You blink, lifting up and shuffling on your knees over to him. His hand locks behind your neck pulling you in to steal a kiss, lips brushing yours affectionately. One of your hands finds purchase on a burly shoulder to steady yourself. He pulls back, placing a succession of quick pecks over your pouting lips, pulling giggles out of you.

“I’m sorry. I suddenly realized I hadn't kissed the most beautiful woman today. It had to be quickly amended.”

A large grin breaks over your face at his cheesy words. 

“You’re such a charmer, Mr. Kim.”

His eyes flash, tongue swiping over his thick lower lip. “Am I? Does that mean I can charm you out of these?” he teases, fingers tugging at your shorts. 

You swallow hard, painfully aware of the  warm thrum between your thighs. Biting your lip, a protest on the tip of your tongue threatens to expose the unabashed yearning of your heat.

Before you can utter a word, his lips are yours again. The hand behind your neck pulls you closer as he leans over you. A hand on your waist guides you to lie on the blanketed ground, his knee nudging your legs apart to settle between them comfortably. He kisses you languishly, hand releasing your soft strands and sliding to your cheek as he rests his weight on the arm placed by your head. Hips grinding in lazy circles against your mound, drawing a quiet moan. 

Suffice to say all thoughts of the heat are replaced by a different kind of heat as your hands slide up the plane of muscles you had been admiring not long ago. You feel every flex of his back as his hips continue their languorous movements. You bend your knees, widening the space for him invitingly. 

It’s as his hand descends to take hold of your left breast that you hear something in the distance. You ignore it thinking maybe it was a rustling branch or bush. Giving your breast a squeeze, Jin spreads even more heat to your core, and just as you’re about to groan your breath hitches as the sounds are closer this time. 

“Jin! Sis! Are you guys here?”

Your eyes bug open, staring into Jin's equally stunned gaze before you both spring apart. A tangle of limbs, wrestling to separate from each other. It’s when you’re finally sitting in your own personal spaces that you notice a hitch in your situation. Jin’s erection was pitching a lovely tent in his semi loose jeans. His hands covered it, a pained look on his face as he cursed. Hearing the crunch of leaves close by springs you into action just as your siblings walk out of the tree line. 

“Oh there you guys are,” the oldest declares, pointing you out to the others.

You smile over at them innocently from your position between Jin's legs, back resting against his naked chest, his arms resting around your waist. You both wave at them, thanking powers at be for the humidity today helping to disguise your flushed skin. 

“Oh, hey! We didn’t know you guys were coming by today.” Jin greets nonchalantly, raising an arm to wave at them.

“Well,” the youngest speaks up this time, hand rubbing the back of their neck, ”we weren’t going to but when we realized what the weather was like out, we couldn’t let you guys deal with it all alone.”

You can’t help but smile at them in appreciation. “Thank you guys, you really didn’t have to.”

“This is our waterhole, we have to help too,” your middle sibling declares, pounding a fist into their chest dramatically. 

You roll your eyes as they grin at you.

“Well let’s get to it, fam!” cheers the youngest.

“We’ll join you in a moment, just taking a short break,” you inform them.

“No worries, take your time. This heat is no joke.” They wave you off as they set up their equipment and bags.

You realise a sigh, reiterating your thanks as they go about cleaning. You watch them a moment before twisting your head to the side. “You wanna get a hold on yourself now?” you hiss over your shoulder. Jin’s prominent erection poking at your back, showing no signs of deflating any time soon. 

He wraps his arms around you pulling closer. “I can’t help it, not when that perfect ass keeps pushing back on me.” he whispers into your ear. “And did you know your shoulders turn me on too? They’re so perfect for grabbing onto when I fuck into you from be-”

A yelp of pain gets your sibling’s attention, heads swiveling to look over you guys. Jin folded over, hand clutching at his right side where you’d elbowed him. 

“He’s got a stitch in his side from cleaning out the lake. Sorry to scare you guys,” you give as an explanation, waving off their concerned gazes. Feeling bad, your oldest sibling decides to take over lake duty, telling you guys to take your time resting. 

You nod gratefully, before turning your attention back to the frustratingly handsome man behind you. “Get a hold of yourself! Or you won’t be touching me for the next week!”

He looks at you in indignation, sputtering to find a response. “You can’t do that! We leave in a few days! We can finally go back to loud unfiltered sex!” 

You twist around and smack a hand over his mouth. “I’m not kidding! Get it together, my siblings are here,” your eyes blazing with intent. 

He removes your hand as he clears his throat. A playful glint in his eyes before he opens his obnoxious mouth. “You know you’re hot when you’re angry?” he manages before breaking out into his signature high pitched laugh. 

Face flushing in annoyance, you smack his bare arm. “Fine! Good luck hiding it on your own!” you fume, leaning forward to push yourself up. 

You don’t get far, as he cages you quickly with his arms, pulling you back against him, a panicked no permeating the humid air. You huff, as you feel the wind almost knock out of you at the force he uses to pull you back into place. 

“Well are you gonna behave?” an unsaid ultimatum weaved into the question.

“Ah! It’s not my fault you’re so attractive! How can you blame me like this!” he continues to whine, like a petulant child not allowed to play with their favorite toy. 

The pair of you continue to bicker, as your siblings slave away in restoring the clearing. It’s not long before they grow hot, exhausted by the muggy air engulfing them. Their patience and kindness waning, complaints for you both to hurry and join them—which you promptly do, with bottles of water in hand to help them cool down. Your small group makes quick work of the left over trash, as Jin takes care of what’s left in the lake. 

The sun was just beginning it’s descent, stars just barely dotting across the darkening sky, when your small rag tag group finally finished; spent bodies leaning on each other, as weary eyes surveyed your hard work. It wasn’t what it once was, but it looked damn well on its way there and you couldn’t help the happy tears that brimmed your waterline. The arm around your shoulder gives you a quick squeeze, Jin's voice filling the air thanking everyone for their hard work.

The evening chill that cools your sweat soaked layers has the small group shivering. Giving the place one last sweep, you all agree to high tail it back for much needed showers and rest. 

Tomorrow would be your last full day there and you wanted to make sure of one last thing. You would be trying to find a way to purify the lake water. You had been doing research and had read about techniques aiming to bring a lake back to or closer to man-made undisturbed conditions. You had found a lake restoration company not far outside of the town. Jin had already agreed to accompany you, willing to help in any way possible as you brought it up before going to bed that night. You had happily accepted, beholden by the revival of the Fae Kingdom.

The night was comfortably warm, filled with happy chatter in the beautiful glade. Fairy lights lit the area in a soft glow as many visitors sat around the lake, eating meals they had just pulled off grills or brought with them from home. Small clusters of families or couples relaxed after a day of fun and thrills. 

Somewhere someone had brought a speaker, a soft pop melody permeating the air, as you quietly sing along to it, swaying in your fiance’s arms, his own angelic voice serenading you. Your family surrounded you, their loud boisterous laughs bringing you joy and comfort. 

It had been a year since your visit, a year of the lake restoration working its magic. A year of love and care for the watering hole, which was almost a mirror of its former glory. Beautiful shades of green once more filling in patches of the ground, all the colors of the rainbow blooming, giving the space vibrance and life. There were signs of life all around you as creatures began to inhabit the area once more. 

But the most amazing part is being able to witness the breathtaking globes of light that dance before your eyes. Soft, blinking lights that waltz around, unbothered by the visitors. The fairies had returned, they had come back home to their kingdom. 

“They’re happy.”

“Huh,” you ask dumbly, breaking out of your reverie.

“The fairies, they’re happy to see you,” he voices.

A tender smile rests on his lips when you turn to him. He remembered. The childish story you had told him. And it’s in that moment, with blinking lights reflecting around him that you come to a realization. 

“You’re the fairy prince. Well, you’re my real fairy prince,” you admit quietly.

He looks down at you, eyes searching yours before placing a kiss on the tip of your nose and pulling your back flush against him.

“I guess that makes you the future princess of the Fae Kingdom.”

You cling to his arms happily, taking in the gorgeous scenery before you. 

“Besides, it only makes sense that someone as good looking as me is royalty.”

“And there goes the moment,” you grumble as you leave the safe space of his arms to join your family in their merriment. 

“Hey! You know it’s true!” he exclaims, chasing after you, accompanied by a squeaking laugh.

[loverholland]

sunrise. pp x reader

summary: y/n finally arrived back in new york after a year in cali. not only does she find that her little corner of the world is disappearing, but that he little crush just so happened to not have disappeared. word count: ~1,900 warnings: none that I can think of. a/n: i hope you like this. this has been in my drafts since 2019 i think.

✨☁️💭🪴🪐🧋🛼🎐

Y/N’s hand touched the railing of Peter’s balcony. It was a simple apartment, one that she would expect for him to have. It was a small, one bedroom and one bath apartment that sometimes had hot water and sometimes had mice, but nonetheless, Y/N loved it. It was the first time she had ever seen his apartment other than in FaceTime, which were far and few between. He had such a perfect view of Queen’s where the tree’s sang beautiful songs and the bird’s would join in with harmonies. It reminded her of those times when she would go to Aunt May’s apartment and sit on the fire escape. She missed the yellow chipped paint and the abundance of plants. It was small and minimal but it was home. Pictures would line the walls and almost every surface that she could fill - many of them were Peter and her or Peter and his parents, but when he began bringing home Ned and Y/N, the pictures became more inclusive of their friendship.

Y/N always brought a Kodak camera everywhere. Those pictures felt the most authentic. The most real, so those were the ones she gave Aunt May. Every Christmas, every birthday, were just months worth of pictures that she could put anywhere she imagined.

Everything felt so normal, but they weren’t. Of course, they weren’t. Washington Heights experienced a blackout, one that hadn’t hit for ages. Everything was going away from her in so little time. Nail Venom was moving, shops are closing down, people are leaving. Her humble abode is leaving and it was getting close to her parent’s closing up their ?? and leaving Washington Heights for good. Leaving what she knew for good.

“Y/N?” Peter yawned. She turned her head to look at him in all of his glory. He jue woke up but he looked so stunning in the rising rays and he looked like a Renaissance painting. His curls were much messier than they were last night and his beautiful chocolate brown eyes looked like the perfect coffee that she would get back at UCLA. He was shirtless and only wore a pair of gray sweatpants and my Gods he was made right out by the Gods themselves.

“I’m here.” She whispered before turning her head back to the world in front of her. Not wanting to give it up for just a moment longer. They had practiced some Spanish, drunkenly, she must add. He was good at it, not that she would ever tell him that. Never would she imagine giving him such a big head like that.

“Are you ready to try again?” Y/N asked, implying to the previous Spanish lesson. It was so early, but she felt so at peace. The corners of her lips rising a bit more when Peter answered:

“I think I’m ready.”

“Okay,” Y/N paused, turning to leverage herself on the railing, pushing back for a moment, a wide smile spreading across her face as she looked at Peter. “Let’s go.” There was a moment as she thought of what to say. Something that he knew? Give him something hard. A curse word? She would laugh if given the chance but then the idea of her home. En Washington Heights. Her esquina was slowly leaving this earth for good, only few being able to tell the story of Washington Heights.

“Esquina?”

“Corner.” Peter answered correctly, a short lived smile creeping towards the corners of his lips. He knew he was right.

“Tienda?”

“Store.”

“Bombilla?”

“Lightbulb!”

“Too easy” she thought to herself. She turned her head to look over the horizon. The world was wonderful with how the sky was painted orange and pinks. The moon was still out, it was beautiful. And not only that but this world had Peter, the most wonderful man she had ever been lucky to know. Well, shit. Maybe not wonderful.

Last night was a lot. The lights were brighter then than any light now. The screams of joy and laughing from everyone around her, we're nothing like her experience. A drunken Peter was angry that Y/N’s father didn’t accept their relationship. He was so angry and the way he threatened his internship at Stark Industries (not that papi would get anywhere). The world felt like it was ending and it kind of did. All of Washington Heights suddenly became dark, a forgotten and hidden place in the world. The once joyful noise turned into horror and fear, everything quickly declining. And then she was alone.

In the middle of chaos, she was alone.

But now, here she is on Peter’s fire escape. The beautiful and peaceful world going on around her. Sure, it was hot. But the world was so much better. The people were quiet and asleep while the sunshine danced along the buildings. Animal’s running the streets freely before everyone woke up. Everything was right.

“You’re sure?” Y/N questioned after a moment of reminiscing. She gave him a smile after biting her bottom lip for a moment. He was right and she knew it but she just wanted to see if he was confident in himself and his answers. He hadn’t taken Spanish since high school and he claimed that he forgot a majority of it, but she always questioned it but never pushed him to speak in her native language with her.

Peter paused and pushed himself off the brick wall, taking a step towards her. His eyes searched for a reason to stop, but he couldn’t find one. Hell, he wouldn’t be able to ever find one. “I’m sure.”

“Three out of three, you did alright.” Y/N pushed herself off the railing and took a step towards Peter, her head tilting back to look up at him. She couldn’t help but be infatuated with Peter. She had only been back for a few days and all of the past feelings came flowing back. She spent so long believing that she would never be good enough for Peter that she just hid the idea of ever being with him or him sharing the same feelings. Oh, how she was wrong.

“Well teach me a little more…” he trailed, his hand going to touch Y/N’s cheek. He didn’t immediately touch her however, he wanted some form of consent and when Y/N leaned her face to touch his hand, he took that as an ‘okay’ before brushing her cheek with his thumb.

“Calor?”

“Heat.”

“Anoche?” Y/N raised her eyebrows.

“Last night.”

“Dolor.

“Pain?”

“That’s right.” She confirmed, eyebrows knitting together. She lifted her right hand and laid it on Peter’s chest, staring at it as the words left her lips like endless lullabies. Not taking any longer to think of what to say, she knew what needed to be said for both of them. “Llámame?”

“Call me.”

“Ámame”

“Love me.”

A breath escaped Y/N’s lips. They felt so close yet so far away from one another. Her eyes lifted away from being set on her hand on Peter’s chest to look at his beautiful, comforting eyes. “Perhaps I do-”

“Well, how do you say “kiss me”?”

“Besame.”

“And how do you say “hold me”?”

“Abrázame.” Y/N inevitably whispered, the words all making the flutter in her chest more intense. Her eyes were filled with so much joy yet so much anxiety at the same time. “Al amanezer. At sunrise.” [need to look up]

“Anything can help at sunrise.”

Y/N looked up at Peter’s eyes, she just wanted to kiss him right then and there. They held eye contact for a moment before her eyes dropped to his lips, leaning in a bit closer. She could feel how clammy her own hands were. She hated the feeling of it, but she knew this could dictate so much more especially considering her future. This action could change so much between them and she wasn’t sure if she was ready for it. But maybe she should just dive in head first. Her heart thumped against her chest, eyes closing for a moment as her lips parted, allowing air to escape and to his Peter’s lips.

“What will he say?” Peter pulled back, removing his hand from her cheek and dropping it down to his side, fiddling with the pocket that was hanging out of the sweats.

What a dramatic ass.

“Que dirá?”

“When he sees me around you?” He asked, eyebrows knitting together with concern. Y/N understood exactly how he felt. The fear of losing one another to her father. Losing this connection again. Y/N always believed that the time wasn’t right and that if it were destined to be, it would be.

“How do you say “Promise me?”” Peter asked, quieter than before. His forehead was pressed against hers, eyes closed as they took in the moment, hands briefly touching as a spark traced up their arms.

“Prometeme.”

“Promise me you’ll stay beyond the sunrise and that we won’t care what anyone has to say -”

“Beyond the sunrise.” Y/N cut off Peter. Their eyes met, searching for an invitation to kiss one another. The world seemed to stop at this moment. The trees' sweet songs slowed down as Peter leaned into the small space between he and Y/N. The birds stopped their harmonies and the cars stopped the melodies, it felt like the perfect interlude to any great story.

And then it just happened. Peters hand cupped her cheek like an angel cupping a baby for the first time. He softly guided her lips to his; it felt so soft and secure. His lips touched hers and in the moment she swore she was infinite. She was so alive and free in this moment. His lips melded with her like a beautiful piano melody being played. Everything that she could ever love and more was right here. Her heart pounded to the thought of him. To the action that was being played out.

Never in her wildest dream did she think she'd be kissing Peter Parker. During the sunrise. In Queens. She always thought that maybe one day, when they're older and they finally come to the conclusion, or maybe her accepting it more than she did before. She wasn't too sure how it would happen, but this was never the plan.

As quickly as it started, it ended. Peter pulled away, breathless

“Promise me you’ll stay.” Peter whispered against her lips as he pulled back. There was a moment of hesitation. Stay… how? With him? In New York? She wasn’t too sure what he meant, but those were the words she’s always wanted to speak to him. Just the act was something she thought about many times in high school. She had told herself that if she didn’t go to UCLA she would finally man up and tell Peter about her little crush and go to a school in NYC. But then she left.

“I’ll stay.” Y/N promised, her fingers interlinking with Peter’s. The pad of his thumb rubbing across the top of her hands. A promise that she would swear to fulfill. If not for her, then for him. She couldn’t imagine the world that he has around him but that world would be her’s. He would become her world in such a short amount of time.

Beyond the sunrise.

[misssunflowersandsangria]

Sparks

Ahh! Happy Birthday Shikamaru! This story has nothing to do with his birthday but here's something cute and fluffy like a yummy birthday cake.

Summary:  After a less than memorable first date with Temari, Shikamaru is determined to make the next one better.

*

**

Sparks

**

Chouji and Ino were surprised walking into the dimly lit room with the curtains pulled tightly closed.  A half eaten meal left on the table. This didn’t look like the living space of someone who just had a date with the love of their life. 

“Hey Shikamaru.” 

“You okay?”  Chouji poked at the lump on the bed and said shinobi sat up to brush a hand through his unruly hair. 

“I’m fine.”  They looked thoroughly unconvinced. Shikamaru should have known that they’d be showing up after he kept avoiding seeing them. 

“So…uhm how was your date with Temari?” 

Their friend groaned into the hands that were covering his face. “It was a disaster.”

“Really?”

“From where we were it seemed like you two were hitting it off.”  The utterly smitten look on his face was a surprising sight to see.

He bit back an annoyed statement about them snooping to sigh.

“The date was fine. We talked, the food was good but it just didn’t seem like a date would feel like I guess.  It was just like… a dinner between friends.  We’ve been friends for so long that I don’t know that we know how to be any more than that.”

“Is that what you want? Just to be friends with Temari?”

He’d contemplated that question since their date but kept coming up with the same answer. “No, I like her. I wouldn’t have asked her out otherwise. I just don’t know if she feels the same way and I worry that after our date she might think that all I’m interested in is being friends.”

“How did the night end?” He was annoyed knowing that Ino was fishing for information.

“Why? Was your date with Sai any better?”. He bit back as their dates had occurred around the same time. 

She threw her hair back with a smug smile. “It was perfect. He gave me a bouquet of flowers. He was sweet and charming all night. And the kiss at the end of the night was just incredible.”  

Even socially stunted Sai knew how to have a better first date than him.  This was all so unfamiliar and new.  He didn’t thrive in unfamiliar places and having to navigate relationships and feelings was challenging.  

The tense look across Shikamaru’s face halted Ino’s daydream. 

“How did the night end?” Ino asked again carefully. 

“Well we were standing outside her door for a while. She was playing with her keys so it seemed like she wanted to go inside.   It was starting to feel awkward so I shook her hand and said good night.”

“You shook her hand?”  Even Chouji was shocked. 

“What was I supposed to do?”

“Kiss her you idiot. She was clearly waiting for something.”

He blushed at the thought. “What if she didn’t want to kiss me?”

“Does Temari seem like the type to just let someone kiss her. She would have made it painfully obvious if she didn’t.”

“Fuck.”  He groaned and laid back in bed. He prayed that he hadn’t messed up his one opportunity. 

“So what do I do now?”  Chouji and Ino couldn’t help but be a little amused.  Shikamaru was their resident genius, smart and shrewd.  Having him ask for their advice must have been humbling. 

“Ask her out again, be really honest about how you feel and this time kiss her.” 

*

**

Once his teammates left, Shikamaru made his way to the inn where Temari was staying. He wanted to ask her out again and was sure that this time things would be different. If he was lucky she’d agree and perhaps this time their night would end differently. 

“Shikamaru?”  Temari was surprised to find him a nervous wreck at her door. 

Shikamaru saw her and his rational plan to talk about their relationship and it’s possible future came crashing down. He quickly prayed that his teammate's advice was correct and pulled Temari into a kiss. 

He felt her tense before she melted into him. Her arms crossed behind his head. Soft and warm her lips fit so perfectly against his. 

He took a quick breath once their lips parted. His hands were firmly around her waist never wanting to let go.

“Tem-“ 

“More…kiss me more…”. Her breathless whimper propelled him forward. 

His hand moved to cradle the back of her head as he pushed her against the door. His weight heavy against her.  Lips hungry. Needy.  His rough hands moved wherever they could to feel warm skin against his finger tips. 

He’d always known that Temari was incredible. Strong, lean body with sun rayed hair. And teal eyes that were so unique and her own. 

Her lips though were his weakness. The way that they’d quirk up into that smug smirk. But sometimes soften into that sweet smile only he knew. Right now firmly pressed against his own he was left undone. 

He’d been worried after their first date that perhaps that spark wasn't there to push them beyond friendship. He was so happy that he’d been wrong. 

She pulled herself closer to him and yet it didn’t feel like enough. She knew it never would be. 

Her heavy pants sang in his ears but her soft whimpers wordlessly asking him to keep kissing her was making him dizzy. 

It was a state of weightlessness, disorienting but free that he’d gladly stay in. 

*

**

Later, they sat together and he held her perched on his lap. He preferred to spend the night using his mouth for other things but he wanted to clear the air.  It wasn’t easy but he told her what he thought about their first date and some insecurities that he had. It was awkward and embarrassing but honesty was what they’d built their friendship on. 

“I was worried that I’d bored you, or maybe you thought it was just a normal friendly dinner.  Perhaps I should have made it much more elaborate just so you really knew how I felt. 

Temari paused to stare at him intently. He tried to keep his eyes on hers but they inevitably drifted to stare at her lips. They quirked into a sweet grin. 

“I look at it differently. I think that it’s something that I’ve learned from you. There can be a lot of joy in everyday life. Cloud watching, deer keeping, lazy, familiar, quiet moments. So yes, perhaps there will be parts of our relationships that seem normal or routine but in some ways I like it. Because you’re my safe place, my stability. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”  Her hand affectionately brushed through his hair.  Love shining in her deep eyes.  

“It’s you.”

He was surprised by her response even though he shouldn’t have been. Their lives had always been marred by a touch of chaos and uncertainty.  He’d gladly be her anchor.

.“Tem…”. He pulled her in tight kissing her surely and soundly. 

“Life together with you will always be an incredible adventure. As long as it’s you and me in the end.” 

She relaxed into him and his view of their future did sound incredible. 

“They were right by the way. I really did want you to kiss me that night.”  She admitted with a blush. She’d never been more annoyed at the supposed genius. 

“I’ll never make that same mistake again.”  And he sealed that promise with a kiss.

*

**

My deers! How have you been? I miss you all. I hope that you enjoyed this little story from me. It was inspired by something that I think I read somewhere about Temari and Shika's first date.

I have so many WIP/ideas but I'm terribly unmotivated to write. This story has been sitting in my folder for months now so I decided to clean it up for Shika's birthday. Okay, babes please continue to take care of yourselves. I love you all!

[jimlingss]

Moirai [7]

Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 [Finale]

➜ Words: 6.6k

➜ Genres: 60% Fluff, 40% Angst, Isekai!AU

➜ Summary: Death is supposed to be the end. Or at least that's what you assumed when you're hit by a TRUCK. But the moment you open your eyes again, instead of being sent to the afterlife, you've become a baby. And not just any baby. You're the female villain of a video game.

         ❇ Royal Romances Chapter 3 -Prince Route- ❇   The darkness is pitch black. It’s heavy. Comforting. Eerie. All at the same time.   Anastasia lurks within the shadows, looking both ways with a flickering oil lamp carried in hand. She darts her head down the long corridor and when there isn’t a soul in sight, she sneaks past the archway before pressing her palm against a stone brick behind a marble pillar. There’s a shift, gears spinning and the wall pulls back and to the side, tucking itself in.   She enters through the hidden passageway and the wall seals itself shut again as it never opened.   The cobblestone spiral stairs are dusty and dank without a single window. She cringes and bats her hand in front of her nose, damning him for choosing such an awful place to meet. Who knows what’s down here!   Ugh. A bastard son born will be a bastard life lived.    No amount of effort can make someone noble if they weren’t already born with it. She doesn’t know why she was expecting that man to be dignified.   “I didn’t think you would come so soon.”   The King’s bastard son stands at the landing of the stairs. The spiral staircase seems to descend further behind him, but she isn’t curious to where it leads.   “Hmph.” She turns away, lamp still in hand, and she pulls her shawl closer to her. “I already made up my mind. I want to get rid of that orphan whore, so I’ll do whatever it takes. She dares to try to seduce my fiancé when she doesn’t even know her place.”   The corner of Taehyung’s thin lips curl. “Then by all means, I’ll erase that problem for you.”   The Duke’s daughter turns and her eyes glimmer with intrigue.   The man reaches into the sleeve of his cloak and hands her a tiny vial of green liquid. An emerald jewel on the cap shimmers against the dim candlelight that casts their ominous shadows on the walls.   “It’s poison. One drop in the Empress’ tea cup and you can frame her for it. That’s all it’ll take.”   Anastasia smirks, a rush of air leaving her nose in satisfaction. It might be easier just to dip the tip of a dagger in and stab that wrench with it, but framing her would make Jungkook lose his trust in the girl. He wouldn’t look at her twice. And she’d be executed without the real perpetrator ever being implicated in the crime.   She takes the vial, holding onto it carefully. Yet her eyes flicker up to Taehyung’s. “What’s in it for you?”   “All I want is the empire’s wealth.”   ….. .. .            ❇ Royal Romances Chapter 7 -Prince Route- ❇   Punishment does not come in the form of her stripped title or even her head rolling away from her neck. Punishment arrives in the darkened loneliness. That loss of sanity that whisper she has failed to capture the attention of the only person she ever loved. That she failed to make him love her.   Everything she did, it drove him away.   Every act of love placed distance between them.   Everything.   Liberation comes back with the music of trumpets muffled by the stone walls. “What’s going on?” her voice is hoarse through her parched throat. The servant screams when her arm reaches past the bars to tug on the girl’s dress. Her eyes are bleary as she looks up at the girl. “Why is it so noisy?”   “T-The civil war’s over.” The girl backs away and the celebrations become more distinct with the realization. “The villain is dead.”   The girl withdraws into the cell and cackles rip through her lungs, resounding across the empty chambers. The servant scurries away as the knight huffs out through his nose and shakes his head. But it’s the best news she’s received since she’s been stowed away.    That bastard son — Taehyung.    He was a liar. He tried to kill her beloved Jungkook. He dared to try and replace him. But no amount of effort can make someone noble if they weren’t already born with it.    A bastard son born will be a bastard life lived.    She may have been condemned as his accomplice — she may have been used as his pawn, too blinded by her own affections to realize. But she is mad with joy that she will not die alone.    She can only hope he died a cruel and painful death.   Anastasia cackles again.

You gasp.   Your entire body jolts and you tear yourself up into an upright position. The covers pool in your lap, your white nightgown stuck to your back slick with cold sweat. You press your palm on your forehead, focusing on studying your heaving breath. It was just a nightmare.   Or rather, it was scenes from the original game. The way it was supposed to be.   It felt so real. As if you were Anastasia and those choices and decisions were the ones you made.   The door opens and the maid entering is startled to see you already awake. “Good morning, my lady. It’s still quite early….”   There’s no way you can return to sleep after that. “Today’s a busy day so I’ll get ready now.”   The maid nods and follows after you to the vanity. “Lady Devon has a lilac gown prepared for you today, my lady. The late Queen wore the same colour during the inauguration of the last Head Priestess.”   “Shouldn’t everyone wear it then?”   “Of course not.” The young servant smiles as she runs the brush through your hair. “Only the future queen should.”   Pft. Yeah right. It’s a ridiculous idea that you would ever be queen. Anastasia never had the chance in any route or lifetime and you doubt you will either.   But rather than changing the dress like you normally would, your hand tightens in your lap.   “Bring it to me then.”   As the future Crown Princess, you’re dolled up by several maids. Your tutor paces back and forth, commanding the flurry around you on each of their actions, from a strand of your hair out of place to a loose thread sticking out. Your cheeks are powdered in a soft pink and your lips are painted in the same cherry blossom shade. You feel like a Barbie being dressed up and not in a good way. But thankfully, the dress is simple for the occasion and your hair is plainly clipped back on both sides.    It isn’t a ball after all where people are going to be flaunting themselves. The next two days marks the inauguration of the new priestess. It’ll be a day of celebration and then a day of solemn prayer and song at the empire’s largest cathedral.   Aka, it’s going to be boring as hell.   Once you’re free from outstretched hands touching your body and making sure you’re a photoshopped version of yourself without the photoshop, you head to the gardens for a breath of air. And also to escape Lady Devon’s lectures of how you should ideally behave.   But by now, you already know what she wants to say.   Don’t chew with your mouth open. Keep your back straight. Don’t back talk to your elders. Most importantly, don’t speak to Tae—   “Anastasia!”   The corner of your mouth tugs. “Lucy.”   You shouldn’t be so happy to see the heroine of this story. Not when her existence naturally opposes yours and you purely forged a friendship for your own self-preservation.   But somewhere along the way, you found that she’s the only female who doesn’t look at you any differently. She doesn’t smile just to make you happy. She doesn’t call you just because she has something to gain. Unlike so many others, you know she has no intention of using you.   The girl doesn’t have ulterior motives. Unlike you.   “Good morning.”   “Morning.” You meet her between the bushes of peonies on the cobblestone path. “What are you doing here so early? The play doesn’t start for another three hours.”    “I didn’t want to be late, but I guess I came earlier than expected.” Her smile is sheepish and she lifts her arm, a single white lily held in her fingertips. “I saw this on my way here. I heard it was lucky to have white lilies on the day of the Head Priestess’ inauguration ceremony, so…”   You take her gift. “Thank you.”   The petals are delicate and the fragrance is subtle enough that you lift it to tickle your nose. It’s then and there, while you’re twirling the stem with your fingertips, that you notice a gaze upon you.   By sheer coincidence and coincidence only, it seems like Taehyung was seeking refuge in his corner of the garden again and ran into you. The corner of his mouth lifts, distance kept yet he’s somehow close. You can’t pretend that he’s not there.   Your eyes have locked together.   Immediately, you grab Lucy’s hand and turn to her. “You have no one to accompany you to the Eastern Cathedral tomorrow, right?”   “Uh…”   Before she can answer, you take her to the dark-haired man and smile cordially at him. “Good morning, Your Highness.”   “Anastas—”   “This is Lucienne from the House of Liza.” You drag the girl to your side and she murmurs a timid greeting to him. “I’m sure the two of you must’ve met each other a few times. She has no one to accompany her tomorrow.”   “Anastasia.” Lucy shifts to you. She’s visibly uncomfortable, her brows knitted together, fingers rubbing the skirt of her dress. “It’s quite alright, I don’t need anyone to—”   “Nonsense,” you interject with another friendly smile. “It must be lonely to go by yourself. I’ll be busy with Prince Jungkook. It’s important that you get to know others as well. You shouldn’t latch onto the Prince all the time.”    She’s visibly taken aback at your insinuation. It’s not like you want to be so blunt, but there has to be no room for refusal. This is the only way.   It’s no longer about trying to avoid the three of them. It’s no longer about bringing Lucy and Jungkook together and remaining on the sidelines. If you want to save Taehyung too, you need to use the only person who can do so.   You’ll find other ways to save yourself.   But Taehyung needs her.   “I…”   Your voice remains firm. “You should go with Taehyung.”    Lucy is the heroine of this game. It’s possible that they can end up together instead. She can comfort Taehyung, change his mind about revenge, ease his suffering, rid his grief. She’s the only one who can clear the darkness stowed inside of him.   They don’t know it, but you do.   You push her towards him. The girl stumbles from the loss of her footing and he steadies her by her shoulders.   “S-Sorry!”   “It’s fine,” he brushes off quickly and then turns his head, eyes boring holes in you. “What are you doing?”   Taehyung holds his gaze, searching your impassive expression and the corners of your mouth pulls stiffly. “I’m just joining two people who I think really suit each other. Oh, look at the time! I should leave before I’m late for my morning greeting to my fiancée. I’ll leave the both of you to it then.”   You curtsy hastily and spin around to walk away.   But Taehyung is three steps ahead of you.   His strides are long and he overtakes you easily, stopping your form far away enough that it’s out of Lucy’s earshot. He grabs your arm, pulls you back and stares deeply into your eyes. His frown deepens.   “Is this because of what I did that night of the feast?” he asks in a quiet murmur that makes you swallow hard. You don’t want to be reminded of that. Not now. Not when you’re trying to pay back the favour of saving your life by saving his. “Anastasia, I meant everything I said that night. I meant everything that I was about to do—”   You interrupt him, not wanting to hear anymore of it. It shouldn’t be this hard.   “It’s not that.” You stare directly into his pupils, unwavering in your gaze. “I have to go now.”   You brush past him and don’t glance over your shoulder, even when the temptation is overwhelming.   It really shouldn’t be this hard. You know the future. You know what’s entailed in their destiny.   But why does it seem like you’re making all the wrong choices.   //   Your knuckles rap against the surface. There’s a muffled ‘come in’ and you open the door.   Jungkook is getting ready in front of the mirror. His cape is being pinned perfectly on his back, navy blue jacket with ribbons and golden buttons making him look like the picture perfect prince of every Disney movie. It’s no wonder all the ladies constantly swoon when he passes.   To you, he’s always been that doe-eyed boy afraid of ladybugs. But marrying him wouldn’t be so bad. You’re sure it would be a good marriage. At least one full of respect and mutual understanding.   It would be better than half the marriages in the twenty-first century that ends in divorce.   Jungkook looks at your reflection in the mirror. “Anastasia. What brings you here?”   “I have matters to discuss, Prince Jungkook.”   “Very well.” He looks to the attendants beside him. “Please bring in refreshments.”   “There’s no need.” You quickly stop them and the man in front of you turns, visibly surprised at your rejection of sweets and tea. It’s the main reason why you come to visit each other after all. “This’ll be quick.”   They bow their heads and the doors shut a moment later, giving you and Jungkook privacy.   He pinches the hem of his sleeve. “Did you get in trouble with your tutors again?”   “Jungkook.” Your voice is solemn, your expression even more serious. He looks up and the corner of his mouth falls into a straight line. He follows you to the sofa and sits across from you.   “What’s the matter?” He’s frowning, worried about your changed demeanor.   You take a deep breath, bracing yourself. “We should solidify our engagement as soon as possible.”   Jungkook’s eyes widen. “W...what? Why so sudden?”    “Is it?”   “You’ve never been interested in being queen before.” His eyes narrow in on you and his brows furrow more. “Is this about the Duke and Duchess? Are they rushing you?”   “No.” You shake your head. “This is about me. It’s about us.”   “But this isn’t like you, Anna.”   “Why is it so surprising?!” Your voice is pitched and instead of anger, frantic desperation seeps in. You don’t know why everyone has to make it so difficult for you. “We’ve been engaged since our childhood! It’s only natural to move ahead. Who else are you supposed to marry—?!”   As the words come out of your mouth, it slaps you right back in the face: you’re falling into the same pattern as Anastasia.   Demanding the prince to marry you. Being blunt. Curt. Upset.   It’s so easy. It was as if your entire life was set up to be the villainess.   Oh god. You don’t know what to do. You don’t know what the answer is. You don’t know what choice to make to wind down the best path—   “Anna!” Jungkook calls you for the fifth time in the midst of your meltdown.   You lift your head to find him sitting beside you, his hands firmly squeezing your shoulders. He’s asking you if you’re alright, if you need a healer or some rest to clear your mind. He’s saying how the two of you can talk about this later. But you don’t want later. It’s always been later.   Making choices now for later.   Making plans now for later.   Everything you’ve done is for later down the line and you wonder if you’ll ever be able to reap the benefits or find the happiness you were so desperate to have when you died the first time.   Now. You want someone to shoulder your burdens with right now.   “Jungkook, what if….what if I told you I was from another world and I know the future of this world?”   “What?”   You swallow hard and meet Jungkook’s doe eyes. He searches your visage, unable to comprehend where this is coming from, where you’re going with this. “What if...the only way to save Taehyung is through Lucy? The only way is if they fall in love and she saves him.”   He’s completely lost on that. “Taehyung? What does he need saving from? Who told you he needs to fall in love with her? What?”   Your mouth opens, but you don’t know where to start, how to explain, if he would even believe you in the end. “You just need to trust me, Jungkook. I know things you don’t.”   “I...don’t understand what you’re talking about.” There’s a simmering pause between the pair of you and Jungkook looks carefully at your profile. Then his lips part to speak forbidden words— “Are you in love with Taehyung?”   It’s your turn to be confused. Befuddled. Taken aback.   And Jungkook must read the expression on his face, since he replaces your speechlessness with his own voice. “Otherwise, why would you care so much about him? You’ve never brought anyone up to me before. Not even your own parents, Anna, and I know they make things difficult for you. I’ve never seen you care about anyone else more than you care about yourself.”   You rise to your feet in an instant and turn your back on the man.   “That’s impossible. It’s impossible.”   “Why? I thought you always told me it was okay if we ended up falling in love with other peopl—”   “I said it was okay if you did. Not me.” You don’t get such a privilege. Jungkook is the protagonist, the hero. No matter what route it is, which way the story goes, he always wins. He will always live. But you will either die or be casted away. “It’s different.”   Jungkook has nothing to risk. You have everything.   “Anastasia.”   “Don’t change the subject. I came to tell you that we should move ahead with the engagement. There is no reason you should refuse, Jungkook.”    You turn and leave the room, ending the conversation there.   He doesn’t know. He makes it sound easy. But you can never be with Taehyung.   The Crown Prince’s fiancée and the bastard son. What a pair that would be.   As long as you’re living in this world, in this society, any relationship deeper than an acquaintanceship would bring disaster. It’s not as simple as falling in love, calling off the engagement, eloping together far away. This isn’t a fairy tale. This isn’t a romance narrative.   It’s life. A society that scrutinizes and shames. A culture that slanders names with scandals.   The Devereux house will fail anyway and you don’t care about soiling your reputation and being outcasted. But the King would deem it treasonous. The royal family’s reputation would be marred and ruined, and he would never accept that. He was already unhappy when Taehyung danced with you at the debutante ball, when Taehyung handed you the Hunt’s prize, when Taehyung rescued you from being kidnapped. And you cannot risk your life and Taehyung’s like that any more than you already have.   Jungkook is terribly naive if he thinks it could ever work.   //   The royal court is lively with warm drums and bright flutes that echo throughout the capital.   Famous minstrels and troubadours across the empire have come to perform for the King, having made their way through the streets in the morning for the commoners as well. He smiles in approval from his throne, the middle-aged priestess to be coordinated tomorrow seated beside him and the pair look to be enjoying the show.   Your parents are no exceptions either, seemingly relishing in the festivities. They’ve brought Edith and Joan in tow as part of their entourage, faces you never thought you’d miss. The former nods her head at you in silent greeting and the latter smiles, but you don’t get a chance to speak to either of them. Not when your parents have kept their distance.   It seems like the last incident has made them rethink their involvement in your affairs. And for that, you’re glad you’ve been granted a little more freedom.   Marquess, earls, counts, viscountess and barons seated around speak to one another in between performing acts, sipping on their wine as the afternoon sets into evening. Once in a while, laughter sparks through the courtyard and thunderous applause succeed performances.   But unlike them, you can’t enjoy it.   In spite of sitting next to Jungkook and visibly smiling, the space in-between the pair of you is tense and stiff. Lucy sits a few rows down from where she is beside her father and you can tell she’s uncomfortable with what happened earlier by her expression that never seems to ease.   All of it would be easy to ignore. If not for Taehyung’s gaze.   He’s standing in the corner against the stone walls that line the courtyard, inconspicuous but not to you. A glance at a crowd and you could still pick him out in an instant. But he doesn’t watch the play, doesn’t watch the musical performances or the acrobatics twisting around. He looks at you. As if that alone could figure out your intentions, like he could deduct what’s in your mind.   You don’t spare him a peek. Even when it’s difficult to resist.   You avoid him until the very end.   //   The moon is full, a perfectly round sphere that’s golden. Like a firefly amidst the blanket of stars. It isn’t brighter than the sun, but not any less beautiful.   Taehyung stares up at the horizon and then his eyes stray to marble railings. He floats up to your balcony and his feet touch against the white, stone flooring. He won’t let you run away.   The room is dark, but he makes out a lump in the bed that’s turning and twisting. Taehyung knocks against the glass door and the figure freezes before it moves a moment later.   Within a minute, the door opens and you emerge into the golden moonlight. “Taehyung? What are you doing here? You’re not allowed to be here,” you whisper harshly, looking both ways of the castle grounds while tugging the white, laced shawl around your shoulders closer.   “I had to come see you,” Taehyung gazes into your eyes tenderly and he leans down to capture your hand gently in his. The skirt of your nightgown flutters in the warm breeze. “I know there’s something wrong. Did Jungkook do something? Did he say something?”   You shake your head.   “Then why push me away?”   You turn from him, ripping your hand away from his grasps. “I don’t know what you mean.”   Taehyung grabs your arm and your head whirls back to him, eyes connecting. “You know exactly what I mean.”   “I’m engaged.”   “To a person you don’t even love.”   Your eyes widen and your brows furrow. “You don’t know that.”   “I love you.”    It’s a bold confession spoken from his lips, his deep timbre that doesn’t lack any sincerity.    An earnest proclamation that has your heart stuttering in your chest, your breath hitching in your throat. Your heartbeat is thunderous in your ears and something stirs in the pit of your stomach at the sorrowful expression Taehyung looks at you with. He murmurs, “I was going to take that secret to the grave, but I can’t stand by and watch you like this. I love you. Be with me.”    Be with me.   A three word plea. Whispered secretly on a full-moon night. An affection full of warmth that you never had the privilege of receiving before in your past life or this life. Until now.   You never thought it would be like all those cheesy movies — Love Actually, Pride and Prejudice, the Notebook. But nope. They’re right. When you hear a love confession, when you hear someone say ‘I love you’ and ‘be with me’, it really does make you overwhelmingly happy.    It makes you want to cry. It makes you want to hug him, kiss him, throw your arms around him and scream ‘yes’. It makes you imagine the rest of your life, growing old with someone you love.   But you stagger away from Taehyung. No.   No. It can’t be. He can’t love you. No.   You aren’t Juliet. Elizabeth Bennet. Allie.   This isn’t your love story. You aren’t the main character. And this most certainly won’t have a happy ending.    Taehyung was never supposed to love Anastasia.    This is a mistake. An accident. Repercussions to your actions.   “Don’t mistake sympathy for feelings of love.” You surprise yourself at how stern your voice sounds, never once wavering. You suppose years of growing up in the Devereux household and being put under rigorous training allowed you to control your exterior well. “I don’t love you. You don’t love me, Taehyung.”   “You’re wrong.” He steps forward, closing the distance, as firm as you are. “I’ll even fight for the throne if you want. I’ll fight Jungkook if that’s what it takes for you to be by my side—”   “No!”    The scream echoes in your own ears, loud and shrill enough to bring alarm. “Please. Don’t. Don’t.”   It’s then and there, in the throes of his reckless promises, it slams into you — the realization of how desperately you don’t want to see Taehyung die.   You don’t want to witness his tragic ending. And you don’t want him to do it for you.   Taehyung’s expression is crumpled in anguish and his arm lifts, hand extending. The pad of his thumb tenderly wipes away the tear that’s streaked down your cheek. The corner of his mouth upturns, but the sorrowful smile never reaches his eyes. “Do you hate the idea of being with me that much that you’re crying?”   “No...Taehyung…”   He withdraws. “I’m sorry.”   Taehyung gazes at you and then he shuts his eyes, falling backwards off the balcony. You cry out in absolute terror and your legs lurch forward towards the railings. Your arms snap out to grab him, but your fists merely catch the passing wind.   He’s vanished into thin air, leaving nothing but traces of magic in the air.   You collapse onto the floor, grasping at the banister as sobs wreck through your body. “T-That’s...not...i-it—”   The matter of life or death should be simple. The choices should be easy. But you don’t know why each path you choose has its own tragedy, why happiness never seems to come.   Why can’t you control your own destiny?

A wheeze tears from the bastard son’s mouth.   His ruined hands are wrapped around his silver staff until his bloodied knuckles have morphed white. But it’s his leverage, keeping him standing on his shaking legs. He may have lost but he refuses to collapse until his last breath has been taken. His pride won’t allow him otherwise.   “Why?”   He lifts his head and locks eyes with the impassive Prince, dignified and noble. A hero to all. A brother who he never deemed as a brother. Only in blood and never truly in name.    “Why did you do this?”   The corner of Taehyung’s mouth curls. Even on the battlefield when they are both armoured and armed with weapons — in the moment of death — Jungkook is as oblivious and ignorant as when he was a mere child.    Taehyung spares a thought as to what it feels like to be that naive. He concludes it is a privilege.   “W-hy….d..o...you...think?”   The Forgotten Prince’s feet sinks into the mountain of brittle bones. He had to bring the dead back to life through necromancy to build an army for this war. No one would fight on his side after all. No one’s ever wanted to fight on his side.   But even so, he was never able to bring himself to revive his mother.   But it’s foolish he didn’t. She may have just been a marionette doll with tangled strings, a simple outer shell of a real human being, but he regrets not doing it. He should’ve.   Even if it was just to see her for a moment.   But it is a regret too late. He has another wish he wants to achieve in these last moments.   Taehyung chokes out that girl’s name.    He didn’t know he would have feelings for her. He was simply intrigued. Anything that belonged to his brother was always something worth envy. And he wasn’t wrong. She was a pawn on the opponent’s side who turned out to be more valuable than the queen.   “P-Please….” Blood curdles at the back of his throat, thickening his words into pathetic sputters. “Let me...see her….on.e….las...t….tim..e…”   “I’ll never let you see her.”    The Prince’s hands tighten on the handle and he rips the sword out of his abdomen in a single motion. The sound of silver cuts sharply through the air and Taehyung drops to his bruised knees. His own blood has splattered across his visage, scarlet drenched on ashy skin.   The Prince stands tall, the very furrow of his brows jarring against the cold, cordial expression he maintains. It’s an expression of contempt, of hatred and indifference. His shadow looms over him, the status he was born with intrinsic in his sheer presence.    “All...I...ever..wanted….was to be you. To be...powerful...to have everything you have.”    The Forgotten Prince rests against his staff and shuts his eyes. He ponders for a mere moment if he will be able to see his mother after this. But if there is such a thing as an afterlife, it’s still unlikely that fate would grant him such peace and refuge.   “I...d..idn’t...want….to...be...aban..doned…”   The remnants of magic surges through his veins and with a weak flick of his wrist, Taehyung’s last magic summons the girl who had occupied his thoughts. She appears in front of him, manifesting with his spell, and she screams.   Jungkook calls out to her and they embrace. He holds her, covering her body with his arm.   The two of them look down at Taehyung in fear and disdain.    But her vicinity is enough for him. He wonders when he became this pathetic. Or if he was always this way as their villain.   Taehyung chokes on the blood curdling at the back of his throat, but his lips upturn into a smile.    He mouths her name and dies at their feet.   ….   Anastasia.   You wake up with a gasp tearing from your chest. Your breath heaves out of you and tears coat your cheeks and the pillow beneath your head. Most of all, your chest fucking hurts like your heart’s about to burst. So you call for a maid at the top of your lungs and within seconds, someone scatters in.   “My lady?”    “Water,” you croak and she nods.   A glass is presented in front of you within moments and you down the entire thing, able to calm yourself down once you’ve finished. The maid notices your sweaty form and asks if you would like to change clothes, but you wave her off and she leaves.   Your worst fear came to life in a nightmare.   Instead of calling the heroine’s name, Taehyung called yours.   //   The ceremony at the Eastern Cathedral is exactly like all other events and celebrations in the castle.   Boring. Tedious. Like sitting in a lecture hall with the most unenthused professor droning on about the art of paint drying. Except you have to slap a friendly smile on you, sit straight, make small talk and pretend you’re intently listening. You wish cardboard cutouts were a thing, so you could just slap a picture of yourself in your seat instead of having to deal with it.   But the entire ordeal keeps your mind from wandering about last night.    There’s something about pretending that you’re fine that makes you feel fine after a while. Like you’ve tricked your own self into being okay.   You’re even anxious once it’s over. Once the quiet has settled back in.   Many of the guests leave, viscounts and countesses bidding their farewells from the cathedral and getting into their carriages. After you’ve sent off Lady Devon and you’re free of her scrutiny, you quickly turn around to find Jungkook and get out of here.   The last thing you want is to run into Taehyung right now. You don’t know if you’ll be able to manage your reactions, control your expressions.   But on your way back, your attention is taken by an elderly priestess dressed in white robes with a cane, hobbling around. Her hands are outstretched and she bats the air. She’s blind.   “Excuse me, do you need help?”   “Oh, yes, please, that would be wonderful.” She smiles and the tens of wrinkles on her face crease. The old lady reminds you of your grandma and the corner of your mouth quirks. You take her hand and place it on your arm, guiding her. “I’m usually not so clumsy but I lost my way and had to re-orientate myself. You can just bring me into the side house, it should be on the West side of the cathedral grounds.”   You look around and spot it around the building. “It’s this way.”   “Are you here for the ceremony?”   “Yes, I am.”   “How nice, Emelisse will make a fine Head Priestess. Her holy magic is quite powerful.”   You hum and get to the smaller building within two minutes. The doors are already open, so you peek inside to see if anyone’s there to take the old lady, but there’s no one. “We’re here.”   The Priestess reaches out and grabs the door frame. She smiles and gets up the steps herself, but not before turning around. “Thank you. Not many people would personally aid me in this day and age, and for that I’m thankful.”   “It’s not a problem.”   It’s been a long time since you’ve been able to speak so casually to someone. But it’s relaxing to forget about your titles. You don’t have to be the Crown Prince’s Fiancée. The future Queen. Or the heir of the Devereux house.   You’re just Anastasia. Y/N. A mix of both that makes you you.   “Would you be willing to hear an old secret in exchange for helping me?”   “Uhhhhh…..” You glance over your shoulder. There’s no palace guards or Jungkook in sight.   You really don’t want to stick around for too long. But you remember your grandma got pretty lonely towards the end of her life and was willing to talk to door-to-door salesmen for a good hour or two until they wanted to run away and blacklist the house from their list. Bless her heart.   You decide to indulge the old woman, so you go along with it. “Sure.”   “I once knew a woman, a kind but poor woman. She was with child,” her voice croaks and you lean in closer, realizing it’s juicy gossip and it sparks intrigue. “The father of that unborn child wasn’t very happy to know that child was coming into existence, so she, worried, came to see her fortune and her child’s on the eve of the Solar Festival.”   The old Priestess holds the handle of her cane with both hands, placed in the middle of her body. She faces the sky, enjoying the warmth of the sun on her skin as she continues the story.   “She came to this cathedral and they told her about doom and her child’s inevitable doom. Desperate and heartbroken, she begged to find a way to deviate from such a fate. She wanted to do anything she could to change the predetermined destiny of her unborn child.”   Your brows furrow. You begin to wonder why she’s telling you this. “And?”   “She did a ritual of dark magic to search for a soul that would protect her son.” The old woman shakes her head. “She defied the laws of destiny itself without knowing the pain it would cause.”   “But through sheer will, she broke it!” The Priestess smiles, her voice having been a murmur drawing you in. “She found a fitting soul and that soul was sent to another dimension before this one to learn about what was to come, so that they could protect her son.”   You stagger back. Breath caught in your throat. Blood draining from your face.   There’s no way. It can’t be.   But everything aligns. It matches perfectly.   “W-What happened next?”   The woman hums a low note and you realize too late that she’s the former Head Priestess, the one who had just stepped down. “I’m not quite sure what the ending to that story is since that soul wrapped in dark magic is standing right in front of me.”   The former Head Priestess smiles gently and turns around, entering inside her abode. She leaves you standing rooted to the ground on your own as it dawns upon you —   It was all on purpose.   Being reborn into this world. Having memories of your past life. Being burdened with the knowledge of what fates there are, what the future holds. All along, it was to serve your purpose: to protect Taehyung.   Your destiny was entangled with him even before this lifetime.    But you’ve already failed. You let his mother die. And now his own time is running out.   You turn around. The urge to see him overwhelms your very being. You have to tell him how you really feel. You’re not just Anastasia. You’re Y/N. And you won’t allow the original storyline to confine your choices anymore.   None of this was an accident. You weren’t messing anything up. None of your actions, your feelings or his are wrong. Nothing was a mistake. You’ll find a way to save Taehyung, to be with him.    You have to.   In the south courtyard of the cathedral, by sheer coincidence and coincidence only, you see him there. Of all the places of these vast grounds where he could be, you still found him.   “Taehyung!”   You call out to him and he turns at the sound of your voice. But then your smile falls. Your feet slow. By coincidence, an arrow soars towards him, slicing through the air.   You shout at the top of your lungs and Taehung whips his head around. The tip of the arrow freezes an inch away from his nose and clatters to the ground through his magic. But then five more arrows splits the sky and flies towards him. Taehyung dodges, stops another, but one catches him in the arm.   He sharply inhales.    A scream of his name tears from your throat.   Taehyung winces and rips the shaft of the arrow out of his skin. He looks at the tip before throwing it away. He can feel the poison spreading in his veins, bleeding inside of his body. It inhibits his magic and before he can yell at you to get away, another arrow spirals in the horizon.   He shuts his eyes. Taehyung feels an impact. But the pain never comes.   His eyes shoot open, brows knitting together and his mouth draws open when he sees you.    Your arms have wrapped around his body in a warm embrace, shielding him away, protecting him like you were meant to. The end of the arrow has pierced into your shoulder.    But you can’t feel it.   Taehyung shouts your name and you collapse. He holds your body in his arms, cradling your head against his shoulder as he screams from the pit of his stomach for help. And you watch him through foggy eyes, a smile gracing your lips.   You’re glad he’s not hurt.   Your hand slowly lifts to caress his cheek and he looks at you.   “I….fi..nally came….on time, Tae...hyung.”

[kaimelia]

Here Alone

a/n: hi! this is awfully sad and for that, I apologize...but I really enjoyed writing this and I hope you like reading it!

-----------------

Amelia woke up with a feeling. Some sort of pit in her stomach, a feeling that she didn't want to get out of bed so she could avoid something.

She rolled over and pulled the comforter over her head, groaning loudly when her husband pushed open the door with a mug of her favorite tea in hand. Link had smiled and chuckled at her when she told him and grabbed her hand, pulling her into a sitting position and kissing her lips. He persuaded her to leave the bed and led her into the kitchen, where Scout was happily eating blueberry pancakes and their daughter twirling around in her favorite purple sundress. Amelia left in a hurry with Charlotte in her arms, quickly kissing her husband goodbye. She changed into scrubs to find a note from Link in her locker, "You're amazing. You're going to rock this surgery. I love you," he had written, a messy scrawl on one of the note papers they'd stick in Scout's lunch box. She grinned and placed it in her purse, locking it away in her cubby.

-----------------

Surgery was going well until the nurses started to whisper among themselves. The pit in Amelia's stomach from the morning returned, and she asked if they had anything to share. Silence filled the O.R., and Amelia shook her head, attempting to ignore it. She sighed audibly after finishing the ten-hour surgery, grateful her patient had made it through without any real complications, ready to find her husband and convince him into giving her a foot massage and to order takeout for dinner. The grin on her face fell once she walked into the scrub room to see Jo nervously wringing her fingers. "What happened?" Amelia asked, hiding her shaking hands under the stream of water in the sink.

"It's Link."

-----------------

She felt like she was moving in slow motion. People walked in and out of the attendings' lounge, some acknowledging her and others not. Meredith walked in and wrapped her arm around Amelia. "He'll be okay," she whispered, hugging her sister tightly.

"I had a feeling when I woke up. That something bad would happen today, but Link told me everything would be fine," the neurosurgeon laughed out, tears welling in her eyes the more she spoke. "Everything's not fine."

-----------------

She knew it before anyone said it. Owen walked into the lounge; his hands clasped together politely. "We did everything we could," he began but stopped as soon as Amelia let out a loud sob. Her hand moved to cover her open mouth, her chin quivering and her body falling forward before Meredith reached an arm under her and pulled her up. She had no idea how much time passed until the other surgeons left in a blur of colors and absurdly loud noise and until Maggie ran into the lounge, joining her sisters in a hug.

"Amelia, you should go say goodbye," Maggie whispered, brushing her sister's hair down in delicate patterns with her hand. "You can go see him."

"I don't think I can," she cried, standing up suddenly to run to the toilet. The sounds of heaving filled the small bathroom, and Meredith cringed, grabbing Amelia's hair back.

"We'll come with you. You'll regret it if you don't go to see him," Meredith helped her to stand, steadying her with a strong arm around her waist. They slowly trudged through the hospital's hallways and past the O.R. board, causing Amelia to let out another sob as she recognized the place they met.

Her feet stopped in the scrub room as she glanced through the glass pane, seeing the sheet covering the figure of the man she loved. Her hand reached for the chain around her neck, pulling her wedding band out and fiddling with it. Maggie placed a hand on her back, helping to push her towards the bed. "We'll be right here, Amelia," she comforted, watching as Amelia walked into the room.

The neurosurgeon sat down, pulling a stool over to the side of the bed. She grasped the edge of the sheet covering the body and slowly lifted it to reveal a familiar face missing the childish grin she'd loved for so long. A sob choked in her throat, and she gasped loudly, covering her heart with her hand as the other brushed through his long blonde hair he'd meant to get cut. "Link," she whispered, tracing her fingers down the side of his face, under his jawline, and back up to his eyelids. She yearned to see his blue eyes and the life they always held; the joy, calm, and the future she'd always looked into. "Oh my god," she wailed, a tear dripping onto the sheet covering his chest. Amelia laid her head down gently, sobbing as her ears searched for the beating of his heart fell asleep to each night, only to hear nothing, now.

-----------------

She woke up in a hospital room, cringing at the loud beeping of a heart monitor beside her. Her eyes fell to the weight against her arm, seeing her daughter curled into her body, contently making the soft snores she always did. "Hey," Meredith whispered, standing up from the couch in the dark room. "You passed out. Fell to the ground, and Maggie and I had to bring you here." She reached out for Amelia's hand and held it. "Koracick is gonna come by and give you a neuro check; you hit your head when you fell."

"Is it real?" Meredith raised her eyebrows in question. "Is he really gone?" She nodded, holding her sister's hand tighter as she cried.

"I'm so sorry, Amelia." The little girl's head lifted up at the sound of her mother's sobs, and Amelia looked to Meredith as if to ask if Charlotte knew. Meredith shook her head.

"Mommy?" Charlotte asked. "Why are you crying?" Amelia reached out to brush a stray piece of her daughter's blonde hair back, running her hand down the french braid Link had made for her this morning. She bit her lip as her fingers touched the pink rubber band holding the braid together, knowing that Link's hands had touched the same band just hours earlier.

He'd learned to braid as soon as they found out they were having a baby girl, practicing on almost any woman who would let him touch her hair. Soon, everyone in their family circle was wearing braids and paging Link whenever they wanted their hair braided to fit under a scrub cap.

"Mommy's just not feeling very well right now, Char," Meredith interrupted, dropping Amelia's hand and pulling her from her thoughts. "Let's get you back to daycare, okay?" The mother watched as her daughter waved goodbye, whispering a soft "Bye, mommy," before she was carried out of the room. Her gaze drifted to her hand, which had subconsciously grabbed her necklace and had been toying with her ring for some time, something she often did when she felt anxious. She unclipped the chain, holding it out in front of her eyes. Her eyes traced the engraved letters on the inside of the band, reading, "Till death do us part," a line they had chosen almost jokingly when picking out rings. She had made a sarcastic comment about how he likely wouldn't have to put up with her forever, as everyone around her died. Link had grinned and embraced her, whispering into her ear, "Till death do us part." Now, the line and memory felt like some twisted irony.

Amelia dropped the chain onto the table beside her and turned over, her body leaning backward as if she was expecting Link's firm chest to be behind her to lay against. She let out a shaky breath, adjusting the pillow under her head and closing her eyes tightly. "This is just a nightmare," she whispered. "Just a nightmare."

-----------------

People passed in and out of the hospital room, yet Amelia just stared blankly at the hospital wall. Teddy had visited and told her something about her own husband, who died under similar circumstances. Tom had stopped in to examine her, and she silently complied, not even hearing what he said after. Jo came in and sobbed out some story about when Link was planning to propose, which Amelia assumed was meant to comfort her, but she couldn't process what Jo was saying. Even Nico came by and dropped Link's wedding band on the table next to Amelia's necklace, letting her know that he had retrieved it for her before they took his body away. She appreciated it; he didn't try to tell her everything would be okay, give her some bittersweet story about Link, or mutter that he was sorry for her loss. "Can you stay?" She asked Nico as he moved to leave. "Just sit in here with me for a bit," her chin quivered, and Nico proceeded to sit on the couch. "How long has it been?"

"Seven hours and thirty-four minutes," he responded, the number coming out immediately. "I don't know what to do with myself. I feel like I'm sleepwalking." Amelia nodded her head in agreement, the tiniest smile creeping onto her lips.

"How long do you think I'm allowed to stay in this room and hide from everything?" Nico leaned forward, resting his elbows on his legs. "I'm just hoping that Meredith and Maggie are handling the kids. Not really being a good mother right now," she confessed, wiping her watery eyes.

"You get as long as you need. I'm sure they've got it figured out."

"I'm dreading seeing them. As terrible as that sounds," she shook her head. "Scout looks just like him. I already sobbed when I saw Charlotte's hair because he braided it this morning."

"Do they know yet?"

"No, I think Meredith is waiting for me to tell them." Amelia took a shaky breath. "I don't think I can do it. Raise them alone."

"You're not alone, Amelia." Her name sounded odd coming from his mouth; he'd almost exclusively referred to her as 'Shepherd' prior to this moment. She almost laughed at the sound of it. "I know we haven't ever been close or anything, but whatever I can do," he whispered.

"Thank you." She held her hand out, and Nico took it, letting his tears fall after she squeezed his hand lightly. "Thank you," she sniffled, beginning to cry again.

-----------------

Meredith pushed open the door and pulled the key out, holding it open for Amelia. The brunette gasped at the sight of their home, a nearly spotless house that definitely didn't look like that the day before. She assumed someone had stopped by and picked up as a courtesy, leaving a pile of his belongings on the table in the dining room. She walked towards the table and picked up his I.D. badge, staring at the photo from the past year.

Bailey had insisted on new badge photos for everyone after seeing quite a few images that no longer resembled the badge's owner, complaining about how nothing ever ran smoothly in the hospital. The day of the pictures was on Charlotte's third birthday, the same time that she had a stomach bug. They'd almost missed the takes and didn't have time to change out of their clothes. Amelia knew that right out of the view of the camera was a trace of vomit that had left everyone cringing. She smiled and set it down, her fingers trailing over the stitching of the bag she'd teased him for, calling it his man-purse. Her hands trembled as she lifted up one of his scrub caps, bringing it to her chest and exhaling out a sob.

"I can take care of all of this," Meredith whispered, placing a hand on Amelia's shoulder. "You should go talk to the kids." Amelia shook her head quickly.

"I can't do it, Mer."

"They need to hear it from you." She embraced Amelia before pointing towards the staircase that led to the children's rooms. The mother bit her lip and reached out for the railing, steadying herself on it. She saw them both sitting on Scout's bed, Charlotte holding her stuffed cat as Scout read her a chapter of one of his favorite books. Amelia paused in the doorway and simply observed them for a moment, not wanting to disrupt the peace she witnessed while simultaneously staring at her son's face, admiring his father's resemblance among his features. But she knew she had to tell them.

"Hey, guys," she greeted, walking into the room. Both of the children's faces lit up at the sight of their mother, and they jumped forward into her arms, relaying how much they had missed her. She felt a pang of guilt even though she had only stayed overnight at the hospital. "There's something I need to tell you guys," her voice sank, holding their hands. "Yesterday, after Daddy dropped you off at school," she looked at Scout, "there was a really bad accident. A car hit him, and Daddy got hurt."

"Can we bring him donuts?" Scout asked hopefully, knowing that was the family's go-to solution for any problem that occurred. Amelia bit her lips and shook her head as tears fell from her eyes.

"No, because Daddy got hurt really bad. And the doctors tried to make him better, but they couldn't save him." Scout and Charlotte were both silent as their mother burst into sobs. "But even if he's not here, I know that Daddy is watching over us and making sure that we're okay right now," she whispered, gripping their tiny hands tighter.

"Daddy died?" Scout asked, his voice shaking. Amelia moved her hand to cup his cheek and nodded sadly, brushing away a tear with her thumb.

"Yes, Daddy died yesterday." She pulled them both into a tight hug, the sounds of crying filling the room. "I'm so sorry," she whispered.

-----------------

Amelia stared blankly at the ceiling above her. The funeral was nice enough; everyone gave their condolences and apologized as if they could have done anything to prevent it. She'd barely retained anything that was said. The image of his body in the casket kept replaying in her mind, her daughter's cries sounding over and over again, and Scout's soft whisper to his father, asking him to come back home, all breaking her heart into tiny pieces. She turned her head to the empty space next to her, the indent of his head on the pillow he'd kept for far too long still visibly present. She shut her eyes tightly and tried to imagine him next to her, his bright smile and joyful eyes greeting her when she woke up, their kids joining them for morning cuddles before Link finally convinced everyone it was time to get ready.

She grasped at the chain around her neck, to which she had added Link's ring. It'd taken awfully long for some of their friends and family to leave after the service, but Meredith had been kind enough to usher everyone out once a few hours had passed. Amelia made a mental note to thank Meredith as soon as she could think straight.

Eventually, Amelia gathered the energy to get out of bed. She unzipped the back of her black dress, taking it off and throwing it on the floor in a moment of anger. It was one she had purchased years ago and never intended to use as a funeral dress. It came with a blue cardigan that had perfectly matched the blue tie Link wore to their coworker's wedding, and she didn't even end up wearing the actual dress to the wedding. She'd shoved the dress into a box in her closet, and she guessed that Meredith had dug it out sometime over the past few days. Her hands pulled Link's pajama drawer open, lifting up a pair of his flannel pajama pants and holding them up to her nose, and taking a deep breath. They smelled like him. The fabric was damp a moment later, and she realized she had been crying.

Maggie and Winston were in the kitchen, and Amelia could smell something sweet as she walked out, careful not to trip over the long pant legs of Link's clothes. Maggie looked surprised to see her sister come out of the bedroom and greeted her softly. "Hey," she whispered, pulling Amelia into a hug. "We're making cupcakes for the kids." Maggie glanced up and down, noting Amelia's attire. She smiled sympathetically.

"Where did Mer go?"

"She and Zola went to pick something up. They'll be back soon," Winston spoke, pouring batter into a pan. "Can I ask how you're feeling?" Amelia shrugged.

"Best I can be feeling right now." She sat down at the island, resting her head on her hands. "I don't know what to do, now." Maggie occupied the seat next to her.

"We're taking it one step at a time."

-----------------

They were never the people to purchase extravagant bouquets of flowers. So, she didn't feel like it was right to bring flowers to his grave and instead settled on the grass with a plastic container holding a donut. She figured if he was somehow watching or haunting her, he'd appreciate seeing her continue something that had become a tradition for them. "Hey," she tried, her voice wavering. Amelia felt uncomfortable as she spoke into the air, suddenly paranoid that someone was listening and judging her. She let out a breath. "I brought a donut. At first, I thought I'd get one for you and put it down, but then that just seemed like a bad idea and would probably attract some wild animals," she laughed, pulling her knees up to her chest.

"I miss you. And I know that's incredibly generic and probably meaningless, but I miss you. The longer it is, the more I remember little things that make me miss you and places in my life where there's now a hole." Her fingers drummed against the lid of the plastic box. "It's been a week. Which isn't really a long period of time when you put it in perspective, but this has probably been the longest week of my life," she confessed, glancing at the headstone. It was simple and awfully plain, but Amelia had a particular sort of admiration for it. The words, 'Husband, Father, Son,' were etched into the stone; the three words she knew had all been sources of pride for Link.

"I can't stay for too long. Partly because I'll end up sobbing if I do," she laughed, "but we also told Scout we'd get him ice cream. Maggie took him and Char to the playground nearby." Amelia had laughed when she first heard about the playground a block away from the cemetery, but now she understood the purpose of it. "Maggie and Winston keep looking at me like I'm going to fall apart. Which probably isn't too far off, but it makes me feel like a deer in headlights." She pulled the necklace out from under her shirt. "Meredith understands. She knows when to give me space and when I need a hug. I just wish you were here. It sounds ridiculous, but grieving your death would be so much easier with you by my side." She laughed at what she said a second later, shaking her head. "I mean like, you always know how to comfort me. Or, you always knew," she corrected. Amelia opened the container holding the glazed donut she'd purchased and lifted it to her mouth.

"I honestly haven't had much of an appetite. The one thing I've been wanting more than anything is to drink. But, I won't. I made Mer take all of the alcohol out of the house just to be safe," she brushed a piece of hair back and paused before continuing. "We had cupcakes yesterday, but then I remembered that you were buried in the ground a few hours later, and I ended up puking everywhere." She turned the donut in her hand. "Don't worry, Meredith made me take a pregnancy test. It was kind of funny, actually. She held back my hair while I was puking and then told me how she blamed her nausea on her grief when she was pregnant with Ellis. I made her go out and buy a bunch of tests, even those ones that can tell like a few days after conception—all negative. I'll probably take a few more in a week because now I'm super paranoid. I don't think I could go through a pregnancy without you here," she whispered, looking at the shine of the glaze on the donut.

"I'm gonna eat it, now. And you don't get to judge me," she spoke before shoving the whole donut in her mouth, quickly wiping away a bit of glaze left around her mouth. She giggled as she chewed, soon unable to discern if the sounds she was making were laughs or cries.

"I'm mad at you for dying. I'm really pissed off," she whimpered out, now realizing that she was crying. "But I'm glad I got to love you. And, I'm going to keep loving you, so if you're out there, you have to make sure to stay by me." Her phone buzzed beside her with a text from Maggie informing her that they were walking back. Amelia sighed. "Remember after Meredith woke up from COVID forever ago, and she told us all about the dead people she saw and how they were watching over her and could kind of push her to do something?" She paused as if waiting for a nod or hum from him. "You should figure out how to do that, or whatever. And maybe I'll know."

-----------------

Scout's birthday came sooner than Amelia could process. Thankfully, Meredith had reminded her and taken her to the mall to get presents a few days before. "Link wanted to get him a guitar for his birthday," she'd whispered as they walked past a music store. "I don't know anything about guitars." Meredith took her hand as tears fell down her sister's face and smiled at her.

"We'll go ask someone. I'm pretty sure he'll need a little guitar. That's a thing, right?" The worker directed them towards a wall of guitars, and Amelia was immediately overwhelmed. There were so many different choices, and she had no idea what she was looking for. Her eyes fell on a light brown guitar. There was nothing extraordinary about it, but it was like a magnet, and before she knew it, she was walking over to the guitar. She pulled it off the wall and smiled as if the feeling of it was right.

"This one," she murmured, bringing it over to the counter.

"Why?"

"Link told me to get this one. He did the dead person shove type of thing," she grinned confidently, forgetting the wave of grief she felt earlier.

-----------------

It just so happened that Scout's birthday fell on the one-month anniversary of Link's death. Amelia mused about how it was a good distraction, but it seemed to bite her in the ass that same night. Scout had a party with his friends, and the house was filled with happy children, occupying Amelia for a few hours. They'd made a tradition of having a smaller event after whatever birthday party was happening, just their family in Seattle.

"Okay, this one is from Auntie Mer," Amelia handed him a box, reaching over the mountain of torn wrapping paper in the living room. He opened it to pull out a stuffed bear, and Amelia's heart fell.

"It's a Daddy bear!" Scout shouted, holding it up in the air. The bear was wearing a bear-sized Mariners t-shirt and had one of Link's scrub caps tied tightly around its' soft head. Amelia choked out a sob at the sight, and Meredith wrapped her arms around Amelia from behind.

"I hope it's okay that I took one of the scrub caps; I just wanted Scout to have something," Meredith whispered over the sound of their family laughing, holding onto her sister tightly as she cried. Scout looked over at them, and concern flooded his features once he noticed his mother's upset.

"Momma," he spoke, walking over to her. "You can hold Daddy bear." Amelia pulled her son into her arms tightly.

"We made one for your Mommy too," Meredith added, pulling out another box. "It doesn't have a scrub cap, but I know you have a few." She opened the box and held out an identical bear. "And one for Charlotte. Everyone gets a Daddy bear." Amelia took the bear and brought it into her hug with Scout, holding her arm out for Charlotte to join. It soon turned into a family hug, with everyone in the room piling together and the neurosurgeon's sobs soon turning into laughs. After the moment passed, everyone pulled away, and Amelia was left to hug her bear.

"I have a bottle of his cologne in the room; we can make them smell like him," Amelia suggested while holding the stuffed animal close to her chest. She felt a gust of air brush up her arm in the way Link would comfort her so often, rubbing his fingers lightly up and down her skin to ground her. "You're gonna make me go insane imagining things," she whispered into the bear's head, still gripping it closely. "I love you."

-----------------

She sipped her mug of tea, pulling a blanket over her lap as a breeze hit. Charlotte was lying against her chest, her blonde hair flying in front of her face with her arms attempting to swat it away. "Here," Amelia spoke, placing her mug down. "I'll put it up."

"Braids!" Amelia grinned at her daughter's request, beginning to gather the mess of hair on the girl's head. Scout was sitting on the porch floorboards, strumming some non-sensical tune on his guitar with a binder of music in front of him.

8 months after her husband's death, and Amelia still wouldn't say that she was okay. And, she was beginning to learn that it's okay to not be okay. It was moments like this where part of her just wanted to cry at the thought of him missing them, seeing their son learn to play the guitar as their daughter begged for the braids he always put in her hair. Each holiday, birthday, anniversary, and memorable moment caused floods of grief to pass over the mother.

She finished braiding and tied a yellow rubber band around the girl's hair, pulling Charlotte into a tight hug and ignoring the blur of her vision as tears pooled in the corners of her eyes. Link had always told her how their daughter was exactly like her, but over the past few months, Amelia had noticed how much she resembled her father. Sure, Charlotte definitely looked the same as Amelia did when she was young, but she had her father's dirty blonde hair and his endlessly caring personality.

Charlotte laid her head back against her mother's body. "I miss Daddy," she whispered, her tiny blue eyes watching Scout adjust his fingers in concentration. Amelia kissed her daughter's head.

"I miss Daddy, too, Char."

-----------------

One year. One year ago, Amelia woke up with a feeling. Something that told her not to get out of bed or go to work, a sense that she ignored. She often wondered what would've happened had she stayed at home that day, convinced Link to join her in bed and call their son out sick from school to spend the day as a family. She learned not to let that guilt overcome her. Amelia flipped over in bed to the space her husband once slept in, the indent of his head on the pillow no longer visible. Over time, she'd felt herself losing small pieces of him, something she knew was inevitable but knowing that didn't make it sting any less.

"Momma," the door pushed open, and Charlotte walked through, her teddy bear under her arm. "Cuddles?" Amelia grinned widely and held the blanket open for the girl to join her. Another part of Link she saw in their daughter, her ability to tell when her mother needed her.

The door opened again shortly after, and Scout walked through. He eagerly jumped up onto the bed and rolled onto the other side of his mother, settling under her arm. "Do I have to go to school today?"

"Nope. I already called them and told them you would both be out today," she responded, placing a kiss on the top of her son's head. "I thought that we could spend the day cuddling together and watching movies." Scout sat up quickly.

"We're gonna watch Cars!" The mother watched as her son scrambled out of bed and ran into the hallway quickly. She turned her gaze to her daughter.

"Let's go cuddle on the couch and watch Netflix. I'll tell Scout to let you pick the next movie," Amelia grinned, scooping the girl up into her arms.

"My Daddy bear!" Charlotte pointed down and the bear on the bed. The mother tilted her downwards so she could reach it. "Daddy bear has to come with."

"Of course," Amelia smiled, carrying her daughter into the living room and tossing her on the couch. The three of them settled under a pile of blankets, their eyes all gravitating to the screen in front of them, but Amelia wasn't sure if any of them were truly paying attention. She glanced down at her daughter, who was holding her bear tightly against her chest. Her eyes drifted to the mantle below the T.V., scanning the rows of mismatched frames and photos of their family over the past years.

"Are you thinking about Daddy?" Scout asked, following his mother's gaze. She looked down and him and smiled sadly, nodding her head.

"Of course. It's hard not to think about him today," she kissed the boy's head and pulled him closer.

"I think that Daddy is taking care of us. Like how Auntie Mer said that Uncle Derek would watch us," Scout whispered, fiddling with a loose strand on the blanket.

"I think so too, Scout." The boy sighed and snuggled down further into the couch.

-----------------

Hours passed, and the kids were sprawled across the couch, sleeping contently as Scout mumbled quietly in his sleep. Amelia carefully removed herself to not disturb them, taking her empty mug to the sink and rinsing it out. Her fingers drummed against the edge of the sink, and she looked out of the small window above the counters. The sun was unusually bright for a day in March, causing the silver jewelry on her neck to reflect the light onto the wall. She smiled and reached down, pulling the chain out.

She imagined him standing behind her, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist and his head resting on her shoulder. He'd brush back the strand of hair framing her face and whisper into her ear how he loved her.

Amelia opened the window and smiled at the gust of wind that came through, sending goosebumps up her arms. "I miss you," she whispered, tracing her fingers up her arm to her shoulder.

Another gust of wind brushed up her arm, and she grinned to herself. "You're gonna make me go insane," a laugh fell from her mouth.

"Mommy?" She turned to see Scout rubbing his eyes tiredly and kneeled to his level. "I need a hug," Scout confessed, walking into his mother's arms.

"What's wrong?"

"I miss Daddy." She embraced him tighter and sighed.

"Daddy's here with us. Always."

[hetalia-has-a-secretary]

how would the allies react to their autistic s/o having a special interest on their country's history?(:

Awe- okay this is just a cute ask in general! I think they'd all be pretty flattered if anyone, regardless of their health or state of being, would love it! Like, that's a LOT of stuff to remember! At some points they're like "OH YEAH! That happened!" Also, there is a couple articles about autism and the special interests they can have and how they can use it to their advantages!

Allies with an autistic S/O with special interest in the countries history!

America:

He's pretty flattered! I mean- look at all the heroic stuff he's done!

He has SO MANY history books and his S/O has an infinite library card.

Like it doesn't matter the questions his S/O has either.

He really loves talking about his history. Especially because there was so much trial and error.

It's also very interesting to hear Alfred's own opinions of his own history. Like, he was there. He knows exactly how to describe the very smell of George Washington! (Which was not cherries!)

He'd even let them see some of the weapons, or antics he owns from throughout the year!

If they need space though, they shouldn't be afraid to ask him. He gets it.

He will also be totally cool with helping them find ways to help incorporate it into their day if it helps! Audio books are nice, he might even parade around in an old outfit, making jokes about how the clothes still fit.

England:

He's very glad to be of any form of assistance!

No matter how well, or how much information you retain he's very impressed! Let alone flattered!

This also makes him feel a little more self love as well.

If they're that interested and actually enjoy his history, why shouldn't he?

Will ask his S/O if they'd be interested in a trip to a museum. But don't be surprised if he points out any inaccuracies or misconceptions.

He just wants his beloved to know the truth. Even if it's a touchy subject.

Maybe they'll be interested in some history classes? If not that's cool too! He has book. And I mean a whole library at his home so- yeah.

If his S/O needs a way to use their interest to help get through the day england can teach them how to do things the old fashion way. Kind of like experiencing history first hand!

France:

He has the definition of an ego boost. He already really loves his country and is more than happy to (romanticize the crap out of) teach or show his S/O some of the most famous places in France!

They could literally ask him what France's National bird is (A Gallic Rooster, apperantly?) And he'd go on a 15 minute play by play of why, when, how, and where!

Do not worry, let him get his fancy performance out of his system and he'll start acting a little calmer. Unless you like seeing a sparkling France dance around!

His pride and joy though, really is the architecture and clothing throughout the years.

Would also LOVE to read to you any books you can't read since most of his stuff is in french!

Be prepared for some funny translations though!

Let's be honest, seeing France parade around and dance with a broom stick while he talks about art is probably the best way to get through a rough day. He probably doesn't mind helping his S/O keep focus so long he gets to show off...

China:

They've literally hit the jackpot when it comes to someone who likes to ramble about his culture and history, cause MAN does he have a lot of it!

He's literally just a walking librarian, and probably remembers most, if not all of his past.

Will but you books and stuff on his history for gifts, and will even get them pretty oriental looking shelving.

Careful, he can be a gift giver, no matter the price.

Once bought them a tea set that was so old it came with a certificate of authenticity, and a booklet of information.

He will also show them some stuff from his personal collection as well! Don't worry about accidentally breaking the stuff he hands them either- he wouldn't let anyone, not even himself, touch the stuff he doesn't want to risk breaking anyway.

They can look at those, just no touching.

His house is literally a museum. Just point out an object and ask. He'll have a nice history lesson to share with them, and it makes him feel important.

Since his house is pretty old fashion, he can find hundreds of ways to help get through the day if his S/O needs it. Would literally dress up for them, and let them wear his clothes if it makes them happy.

Russia:

Confused TM

You wanted to know more about him???

Literally just, why?

Once he sees how eager his S/O when learning anything about Russia's past he gets a weird fuzzy feeling inside. He's not use to it, and doesn't really like it so his sunflower is probably going to have to avoid the topic until he's ready.

That might take a minimum of a month, but if his S/O is careful and starts out with small things like, how vodka was made, or the history of the sunflowers, they can coax it out of him a little at a time.

Once he realizes they have no I'll intentions, and are genuinely courious that fuzzy feeling comes back, but this time he can enjoy it.

He's surprisingly really good at making his history entertaining. Though his S/O needs to prepare themselves for goosebumps Because Russia has a niche for story telling, and that includes the pitch and tone in his voice.

Like, letting him teach you about his history is like watching a well thought out play!

For Russia, this is not only a bonding experience, but a really good way to practice his social skills, and he wouldn't want to practice with anyone else but S/O!

It might be a struggle, but Russia would probably be the only who wouldn't want to incorporate much of his history into their daily routines. He's more concerned with it scaring them off... But audio books are an option!

Okay! I had like, 3 paragraphs worth of a rant, but I figured I'd just site the articles I read that helped me with this. So if anyone has any better ideas for some of the Headcannons (preferably if you're autistic and see any inconsistency or have a better idea in general) let me know, because I want my Headcannons to work, but I want them to be accurate as well! Same thing goes for if I have a site noted, and the organization is no good, let me know! I want to learn these things for future references! I did like these two because get the views of parents/researchers/ and people with Autism.

https://sparkforautism.org/special-interests-in-autism/

https://www.autismparentingmagazine.com/autism-children-special-interests/

[peachiikawa]

Caged Bird | Prince!Oikawa Tooru x Reader

a/n: if you know anything about fairytales then you might realize that the reader has the flute of the pied piper, though modified for the story. been watching a lot of once upon a time and got the idea from the neverland arc. hope you enjoy!

word count: 1.9k

genre: fantasy, romance

trigger warnings: reader gets hurt a bit but nothing graphic

summary: oikawa has always lived a lonesome life in the cage that is his castle. one day he sneaks out and a beautiful melody leads him to you, a traveling musician. oikawa is about to find out that his luck is going to change for the better.

oikawa gazed out over the town from his balcony

he let out a long sigh as he grew bored from his studies

“why the long face trashykawa?”

his bestfriend and knight walked up next to him and leaned against the railing

“oh you know, just bored of being in this castle. theres a whole town of people out there and im stuck in here. gets tiring after a while”

iwaizumi listened to his friend and nodded along to what he was saying

“then sneak out for a day”

oikawas eyes widened

“youd help me sneak out?”

“only if you come back by sundown”

so oikawa grabbed his cloak and thanks to iwas help got out of the castle

despite being born and raised in this town oikawa had no idea where he was

and after about ten minutes he was completely and utterly lost

until he heard the faint sound of a flute

he followed the sound until he ended up in the mostly cleared out town square where he saw you playing a small wooden flute for those who were present, though you had no audience

everyone walked past you as if you were invisible like you werent playing such a beautiful song

he approached you slowly and listened until you finished your performance

“that was really good”

you looked up at him and smiled

“always a pleasure to play for those who need it”

the bright smile on your face felt warm and inviting

like he was meant to be here

“would you like to take a seat next to me?”

you gestured to the spot next to you and he gladly took it

“so...whats your story”

hes hesitant to answer your question

“ill tell you mine if you tell me yours”

you set your flute down in your bag next to you

“well first of all my names y/n and my life is nothing too interesting. im a traveling performer and play my flute as a way to pass time and help those who need it. always come across the most interesting people this way”

traveling. thats something oikawa could only dream of

“so cmon now tell me about you”

he peaked at you through his hood

“ok but dont make a big commotion..im oikawa tooru”

you laughed a bit

“thats funny you share the same name as the prince”

you stopped laughing when you saw the serious look in his eyes

“oh..oh! im so sorry for being so rude!”

you started to scramble around when he grabbed your wrists to stop your movements

“shh yes im the prince but stop flailing people are starting to look”

once you had calmed down he went on

“ive been confined to my castle my whole life and stuck to certain rules i have to follow. it seems like even if i catch a break something else comes along. i have to stay this perfect image because im the prince and it just gets so lonely. its as if im a bird trapped in a cage and theres no way out”

ah so there it is

the reason he could hear your flute

you picked a flower that was growing next to you and placed it in his hair as you spoke

“im sorry your lifes been like that but oikawa, if i may be so bold, even a caged bird will become wise enough to break free. the dream of flying is too great to resist”

Once you had properly placed the flower you smiled at him before standing up from your spot and grabbing your bag

you then held your hand out to him

but he couldnt gather his thoughts

you were so bright it was almost blinding

“now cmon! lets go have some fun!”

he looked at the hand held out to him

and with a leap of faith, he took it

he was going to get out of this cage, this perpetual cycle

and finally add some meaning to his life

day after day you two spent your time together

oikawas days that were once filled with hollow words and empty actions were now filled with happiness

filled with you

and everyday slowly but surely he was falling for you

passing glances turned into prolonged gazes

his heart could no longer stay still around you

you became the key to his happiness

but for now...he had to be content with just being next to you

it would be too selfish otherwise

to ask you to stay with him here in the kingdom...he could never trap you like that

“so what are we doing today y/n?”

you were strolling through the town on a quiet sunday afternoon like you had the last few sundays

“how about we go to the bakery? theyre usually busy but since its sunday i bet its not as packed and then i want to take you somewhere”

he was curious as to what you had in store but decided against asking questions

so you two got some baked goods and headed out towards the woods

“cmon we’re almost there”

you pushed some branches and shrubs out of the way

and one eventually hit him in the face

“watch it y/n! i keep getting wacked by you”

you just chuckled a bit which oikawa had found adorable in itself

it made his heart slow just hearing it

“just come on!”

eventually you two made it to a clearing over a beautiful lake

he didnt know that there was something like this so close by

he was absolutely amazed by it

“take a seat oikawa! we can rest and eat here!”

this moment was just too perfect to him

with you here he felt as if nothing bad could happen

that if he only could see your smile everything would be alright

being content with just being at your side...was no longer and option

he knew that if he wanted this he needed to take his chance

“y/n”

your eyes were full of life and he couldnt help but feel so happy next to you

and before he knew it he was closing the gap between the two of you with a hand gently cradling your cheek

but right before you two could kiss you were ripped away from him

“dont you dare touch the prince commoner!”

oikawa frantically looked around as many of his guards came out of the brush

“get your hands off of them!”

you were pressed to the ground and the sight almost broke his heart

“sorry your highness but we’re under strict orders to bring you back and throw whoever was seducing you to leave the castle into the dungeon”

the guard that had been on you lifted you up like you were a sack and bound you by rope

you gave oikawa a final smile before you were taken away even though you were so banged up that it made him want to puke

he was speechless

this is what he was talking about

being so controlled and monitored made him feel so small and helpless

and he absolutely abhorred it

“your highness your mother is waiting for you in the throne room”

oikawa was beyond upset

this isnt how he wants to live

“mother how could you throw the only good thing in my life away!”

his mother sneered at his words

“only good thing? what need to you have for that filthy peasant! and how dare you cast me aside as if i hadnt given you everything you own, everything you are is because of me! i will not allow for any of this nonsense! now go wash up. and dont you dare ever leave the castle again and i forbid you from seeing that nasty peasant again. wasting your time with such a person...”

he gritted his teeth and was about turn to leave

his emotions were running too high

he wasnt himself and he knew it

but even so...he wont allow it to end like this

he was going to end it on his terms

“no”

“what did you say?”

he stood his ground

“i said no mother. im going to live the way i want and with who i want. ill gladly give up my title because frankly, i never wanted it in the first place. and dont you ever call y/n filthy or nasty again. their so incredibly kind and full of joy and laughter. i can only hope to be like that one day. so ive decided that im leaving. with y/n.”

as soon as the doors shut behind him he let out the breath he didnt even know he was holding

but it also felt as if there was a giant weight off of him now

“im coming y/n dont you worry”

it had been a couple hours since you were brought to your cell

you didnt have any major injuries, just a few cuts and scratches from when you were body slammed to the ground

“do you mind if i play?”

you pulled out your flute and the guard nodded

“thank you!”

you started playing and filled the cell you were in with a relaxing tune

“why do you play if it doesnt make noise?”

you stopped and looked at the spiky haired man who stood outside your cell

“it takes a certain person to appreciate its music”

he just looked at you as if you were crazy

but you continued anyways

until you heard frantic running coming from down the hall

“iwa you gotta let them out”

oikawa was panting trying to catch his breath

“dude no offense but your mom would kill me and you if i just let them out”

oikawa grabbed the key from iwaizumis waist before he even realized what had happened

“dont worry about it iwa. and dont worry about me. today i start my new life. it was good knowing you buddy”

they gripped hands the way they always had. A solemn but knowing look was shared between them

“if i had known me letting you leave the castle one time would lead to this...i would have done it a lot sooner. good luck out there bud”

oikawa quickly turned to you and helped you off of the ground

“you ready to run?”

he cupped your cheek and ran his thumb over one of the small cuts

hed be sure to treat that later

you nodded and leaned into his hand

“are you sure this is what you want?”

you were happy to leave with him

its more than you could ever ask for

“y/n youre the only person thats made me feel free. and by doing this i will be.”

you two finally got to share the kiss you had been deprived of and not only was it full of love but also full of hope for your future

“then lets go”

and you two sprinted off to your next adventure together

the flute you possessed was one he could no longer hear the sound of after that day

for it was enchanted, only to be be heard by those who were lost and lonely

with you he was neither anymore

and he couldnt be any happier than living out the rest of his days with you as a free man, a bird outside of its cage

[tessiete]

hi ive read like all your stuff about korkie is a kenobi in the span of about three days and i'm so EMOTIONAL?? it makes such narrative sense - star wars is a story about fathers and sons and what happens when mothers are lost and in eternal spring, when obi wan doesn't reject korkie, and korkie doesn't reject obi wan, and they love each other and accept each other despite the gaping hole that satine left in their relationship it like heals and breaks that cycle of little blonde boys being 1/

of little blonde boys being left in the desert without their mothers and with father figures who don't quite accept the responsibility of being a father to all of their detriments! it lets padme live, and it lets luke escape, and it lets everyone who wants to heal and work towards a better future. anyway, this is some Good Fucking Food and thank u for writing it. if you're still open to prompts i would really like to see some kryze-kenobi family bonding. just the three of them happy and together 

AH! This has been sitting so beautifully, and lovingly in my inbox for ages now, and I do apologise, but I just - I saw fluff and I panicked. I PANICKED!!!

And, as you can probably see, wrote reams of whump and h/c instead. But I tried.

Anyway, there is so much I want to say about this - I’m going to have to bookmark this whole thing just so I can come back again and again to your generous words. Thank you! I do have such a fondness for Eternal Spring, and whether or not it began as a joke, I am SO attached to the idea of Korkie as a Kenobi, the idea that blood isn’t always bad, that healing can happen, that good people make mistakes, that forgiveness IS an option - and I love how that aligns with the Pacifism of Satine’s New Mandalorians. I wish we had more of it (that insistent, unrelenting kindness and compassion) in SW, and Korkie is my little effort at that.

RANTING ASIDE, I hope you find and enjoy this little bit of fluff for the Kenobi-Kryzes. MUCH LOVE.

AND BY THE HAND LED

It was not Life Day. It was not Holyrod week, and Belli’s birthday had been a full ten month ago. Yet still, on this day, Kirokicek Kryze woke with the sun, and raced to his window where he could see the Sundari dockyard in the distance. 

Personal shuttles buzzed to and fro. Docking tugs hauled heavy freighters into place. Long, thin vactrains hurtled passengers from one platform to the next, or further on into the heart of the city. A few large ferries which had found mooring overnight made their ponderous voyage upwards, headed for the small opening at the apex of the Sundari dome. They were bound for transports anchored in wet space, the people aboard away for deep space travel to distant stars. 

Korkie watched as one neared the aperture, then, with incredible steadiness of hand, cleared the narrow gap with ease. He let go his breath, but his eyes remained fixed upon the opening. He was not much concerned with the ships that left, but instead found great interest in those ferries which were currently arriving.

They took turns - one in, one out - and with every exchange, Korkie felt as though the city was making room for a very special guest. One who loomed larger than life in his young consciousness, and one who occupied more and more space in his heart the closer he came.

Bebu was coming home.

A knock at his door was not enough to tear his attention from the spectacle outside, but he shuffled over to make room for his mother beside him at the window.

“Good morning, cyar'ika,” she said, pressing a kiss to his hair. “And what has got you up so early?”

She still wore her nightclothes beneath a fine gown of pressed velvet. Korkie leaned back into her embrace, stroking the soft fabric, and letting the warm, sweet smell of sleep wash over him.

“I’m watching the dockyards,” he said. “Look! Do you think that one of them has Bebu on it?”

Satine let her chin rest on the crown of his head, and followed his gaze to the sky.

“Perhaps,” she allowed. “Are you excited for your Bebu to come home?”

Korkie turned, trying to get a glimpse of her expression which could only be as teasing as his own was incredulous. She smiled.

“Excited, Belli?” he asked. “I am so, so, superlatively excited!”

“My,” she said, her face transforming to one of awe. “That is quite a superlative word you have discovered. Is it new?”

Korkie nodded. “I am saving it for Bebu, for our collection. Do you think he shall like it?”

“I think he shall be quite impressed, dinui.”

“I have another, but I always say it wrong, so I think I shall write it down, instead.”

“That is very wise,” she said. “For then there is no chance of misunderstanding, and then your father can teach you to speak it correctly.”

Korkie grinned, and squeezed her hand, so glad to be in such perfect accord. 

“That was exactly my plan, Belli!”

“Te jatne mind jo'lekir ti ast,” she said, laughing. “Now come.”

“Are we going to the docks?”

“Not yet,” she said. “First meal first, I think, and then we shall see.”

She stood from her place behind Korkie, and smoothed her skirts. The early morning sun fell kindly over her face, so that it lit her eyes from behind, like the facet of some bright gem. She held out her hand to him.

“But Belli -!”

“Is that fussing I hear coming out of your mouth?” she asked, the perfect image of confusion.

“No,” he conceded, hanging his head in defeat.

“I thought not,” she said. “Not my Korkie. Besides, we must first ensure that we are properly fed, and tidied before we appear at the docks. We cannot have our tummies grumbling and complaining while we are at the height of a superlative joy, now can we?”

“That would be rather distracting,” he allowed.

“And what would your father think if you showed up all bleary eyed, and sleep tousled? He’d hardly recognise you!”

“That’s not true,” protested Korkie. “He’d think me a ‘devoted legislator’. He said so last time.”

Satine cocked her head, a smirk curling in the corner of her mouth, and pinned just there, until such a time as she could give it to the owner of those borrowed words. 

“Well, cyare, I cannot think he meant it as a compliment,” she said, wiggling her fingers temptingly. “Now come - to firsts.

In the kitchens, his mother suggested they arrange a menu, scrounged from the conservator and pantry, while the staff set about preparing for the rest of their day.

“No need to bother anyone too much when it’s just us, right?” She placed a stool in front of an out of the way countertop, and held his hand while Korkie made a great leap to stand atop it. “Now, what are we hungry for?”

“Isbeans, and egg!” he cried. “With fresh muja juice!”

“Muja juice!” she echoed in surprise. “My, but we’re feeling quite indulgent today!”

“Well, it is a special occasion!” he said.

“Of course, you’re right. Muja juice it is. Anything else, ad’ika?”

He thought for a moment, but knowing how easily she had acceded to his first request, he concluded it most reasonable to forward several more.

“Perhaps some toast,” he said. “And flatcakes. And melon squares with black fire jelly? And then some moof milk and summerberries because they’ll go bad if we don’t eat them. With sucre crystals on the top. And maybe - only because Bebu says it’s healthy - a cup of kava. But just one, or I’ll be up all night.”

She crouched down to meet him, mischief sparkling in her eyes and not a word of protest at his requests. Instead, her tone was conspiratorial, as though they were together in some great game of hide and hunt. 

“Let’s brew a whole pot,” she said. “So that we may share it.”

He laughed in delight. Satine pulled down a tin of weava flour, and let him sprinkle the surface while she portioned out another measure into a shallow bowl for flatcakes. Under her careful eye, he cracked a tip-yip egg, and tipped in some sucre. She worked the mixture into a sticky dough, and portioned out small spheres for Korkie to press out upon the counter. Cook A’den looked on skeptically, but when his stack of raw discs began to pile up, she stepped in with a sigh, and a fond smile and lifted him on her hip while she fried them over a nano-cooker. 

As he worked, Satine gathered the berries and the milk, and a little pot of sucre. Helping hands piled plates high with toast, and ulik butter. Isbeans and hard boiled eggs followed, kept warm beneath heated domes. A whole pitcher of ice cold muja juice was produced from the conservator, and a fresh pot of kava was left to steep with wide, green leaves still in it. There was so much food that, in the end, a small cart was required to bear the fruits of their labours, while Korkie added the final touch of perfectly browned flatcakes.

Normally, they would eat their firsts in the family dining hall, but Satine insisted that she could not possibly do so while still dressed in her nightclothes.

“And scandalise the whole parliament? I think not, my very shocking dinui. No, it’s best we take everything back to my rooms, and eat there where no one will think us as uncivilised as we appear.”

So with many thanks to A’den, and her workers, Korkie followed his mother down the glistening marbloid halls with their wide windows. The sun was nearly all the way up, and the traffic in the sky had only increased since Korkie last looked. He was hit with the sudden realisation that perhaps many ferries had come and gone in his absence, and any one of them might contain his father. He raced to the window to check.

“Come along, Korkie,” said Satine. “Soon. I promise.”

Torn between food and the possibility that his father was waiting for him even now, Korkie gave into the demands of his hunger, and followed his mother down the hall.

They stopped outside her door, the cart pushed just off to the side. Satine looked at him appraisingly, smoothing one hand over his determinedly erstwhile hair.

“Oh dear,” she said, straightening his synfleece robe, as he reached for the cart to steal a summerberry from the pile. “You do look a sight. But I suppose it cannot be helped.”

She gave him a fond caress, her thumb tracing the swell of his little cheek with such reverence, and care that Korkie nearly felt guilty for snatching the fruit. But she smiled as he swallowed, and he supposed it must just have been one of those strange things buirs did from time to time, where they mixed up joy and sorrow and said nothing about it.

“I shall comb my hair later, Belli,” he offered. That seemed to do the trick, for she laughed, and stood, and gave his hand a brief squeeze.

“I will remember you said that,” she said. “Now, be a good boy and get the door for your Belli, would you?”

She returned to the cart, as he wiped his hands down the length of his robe, and reached for the palmpad. The door chimed, and slid aside with the barest sigh of air. Inside, Korkie could see that the curtains had been pulled back, and the room was flooded blue and gold with the oncoming day. Playful shadows danced across the floor where hanging tassels toyed with the sun. The carpet glistened like thick grass, lush and crowned in dew. A small table with three chairs sat to one side, and an old cloak lay thrown across it. There were boots, too large for his mother to wear, a belt too wide to be hers, and there, in the bed, swaddled in silkweed sheets and haloed by the sun, was Obi-Wan Kenobi, hovering on the edge of waking.

“Bebu!” Korkie shouted.

At his cry, Obi-Wan opened his eyes, and smiled, catching his son as raced across the floor and leapt upon the bed in a single motion. 

“Ah, ner wer'ika! Ni mirdir tion'tuur gar ru'kel olaror. Bic cuyir ori'udes tion'tuur gar cuyir dar.”

“Bebu!” Korkie cried again, laughing and wriggling with joy. His father lifted him over his head, holding him aloft as he made his cursory examination.

“Korkicek!” he groaned, as his strength gave out and Korkie tumbled atop his father’s chest in a tangle of limbs and blankets. “You must be very much grown since I last saw you, for you are getting too heavy for me!”

“No, I’m not, Bebu,” he said. “I’ve only grown two centimeteres since you were gone, and Belli says that’s only because I’m on a spurt.”

“Only two centimeters?” Obi-Wan demands. “Dear me, that’s not very much at all. I shall expect more diligence in your efforts at stretching if we are to make any serious headway in this matter.”

Korkie giggled. “Don’t be silly, Bebu,” he said. “I cannot stretch myself bigger. It takes time.”

“And heavy reading,” Obi-Wan agreed gravely.

“And good eating,” Satine added from behind them. She’d set the table in their distraction. Obi-Wan’s cloak now hung respectably from a hook by the fresher blind, and three plates sat waiting to be filled. The isbeans steamed, their skin crackling and blackened. The flatcakes dripped with galek syrup and butter. The summerberries shone plump and delectable in their precarious pyramid. The black fire jellies jiggled, and the muja juice sparkled.

“Is that fresh kava I smell?” asked Obi-Wan. 

“It is!” said Korkie. “And all sorts of things which Belli and I made! I suppose it’s a lucky thing we made so much extra, for now you can share it with us.”

“A lucky thing, indeed,” Obi-Wan agreed. He looked at Satine with such adoration that the smirk she had pinned up earlier unfurled completely and crossed her face in a radiant smile. 

“Come, Bebu,” said Korkie, taking his father’s hand in his. “Enough lazing about in bed. Let’s eat, or the kava will get cold.”

“Quite right,” Obi-Wan agreed, standing as Korkie slid to his feet beside him, and tugged him over to where Satine was waiting. “We can’t have that.”

“And you may have my cup as well,” added Korkie, magnanimously, “As it is truly a rotten drink, even if you say it is healthy. But since it is such a special day, I don’t think I should be forced to have it, anyway.”

“He drives a hard bargain, your son,” said Obi-Wan, leaning in to beg a small kiss.

“Ah, but of course,” said Satine, quick to grant his request. “He gets that from you, cyare.”

--

“Ah, ner wer'ika! Ni mirdir tion'tuur gar ru'kel olaror. Bic cuyir ori'udes tion'tuur gar cuyir dar.” - Ah, my little terror! I was wondering when you might show up. It has been far too quiet without you.

“Te jatne mind jo'lekir ti ast” - The best mind agrees with itself. (read: Great minds think alike.)

ad’ika, dinui, cyare - little one, gift, beloved.

[bisexualbuck]

My 911 Fic Writing Masterlist

(Last edited May 28th 2021)

I’ve finally decided to do a masterpost of all my writing for the show 911 which is the fandom I’ve written the most for. There are 33 fics in this post, holy crap.

(If anyone is interested, I’ve also written for Star Trek AOS, Leverage, the MCU, among many other fandoms.)

As a general note, I’ll say most of my fics have Buddie elements and I also try to have at least one Firefam moment. Also, please check each fic’s warnings.

This is going to be long so most of it will be under a read more.

Last thing, please! If you like any of these stories, please consider leaving a comment and reblogging this post.

Multi Chapter

Reaching In The Dark | 38.7k

It all started innocent enough but Buck can no longer deny it.

He has a stalker.

Someone so obsessed with him that they would spend hours and hours following him, unnoticed, taking pictures of him, taking notes of his habits.

But life has been so good lately, and Buck doesn’t want to worry anyone. So he tells no one about it, he can deal with it on his own.

Leave My Body | 23k

"Do you want to see how it could have been? You are so sure you've been a burden on everyone you've ever met, but I can show you the truth."

.

Buck dies but it's not the end.

(Inspired by the movie It's a Wonderful Life)

Encore | 20.1k

“I’m going insane.”

“Did something happen?”

A dark, bitter laugh bubbles out of Buck – a mockery of joy.

“Everything keeps happening, and it’s still the same fucking day. It’s always the same and every time it’s different and I can’t do anything.”

.

Or

Buck keeps reliving the same day, over and over again.

Hurt/Comfort

Death, Be Not Proud | 10.1k

There are moments barge loudly into your life and, even as you’re going through them, you know they will change everything.

There are other moments that happen quietly, unnoticed, and it’s only afterwards that you know, looking back, that they have changed your life.

When the 118 is called to a decrepit house, they don’t think much of it.

Yet this will change their lives forever.

Silent Storm | 4.4k

Buck wakes up in the hospital.

Except he can't move. He can't speak.

But he can hear everything.

Dying Of The Light | 4.1k

If Purgatory was a place on Earth, it would be a hospital waiting room.

Or

Buck is in a coma, brain-dead - or so that's what the doctors say anyway.

(Silent Storm told from the Firefam's POV)

No Kingdom To Come | 8k

Days pass, then weeks that soon turn into months. Buck doesn’t call, he doesn’t text.

They don’t even know if he is still alive.

Maddie files a missing person’s report. Athena checks for any mention of his name anywhere in the country.

Nothing pops up, no one calls.

Buck is gone.

The Courage To Heal | 1.4k

He remembers her perfume. Thick, flowery – it makes him retch.

Why does he remember her perfume? Every time he smells anything like it, he wants to throw up, he wants to rush in the shower and try to wash away the stink of it.

Why can’t he move on?

He’s had sex with countless people over the years, especially back in his Buck 1.0 days, so why does that encounter remain? Why does it make him sick?

Why does he feel so ashamed?

.

Buck opens up about Dr Wells, the therapist from season 1.

The Loneliness Never Left Me | 2k

“Buck is afraid he is gonna end up like Red, without friends, without family. He thinks the job is the only thing he’ll ever have and that he’ll always be alone.”

Silence falls around them, heavy and suffocating.

“We need to show him that he’s got us."

“Not show him,” Chim says. “Tell him.”

Forever Day | 2k

The man pulls a gun out.

He aims it at Buck’s head.

“If you take another step I will blast your brains on the ground."

Hollow | ~300

Bobby on the day of his late wife and kids’ deaths, with Athena by his side.

Those Days | ~600

A look into Eddie and Christopher having a bad day made better by having each other.

Little Hope | ~500

A moment of support between two friends, Karen and Eddie, as Hen lays unconscious in a hospital bed.

Firefam Feels

Alone Again | 1.2k

Post S04E04

After standing up for himself to his parents, Buck feels hollow.

He isn't sure how he finds himself at Athena and Bobby's home, but maybe that's exactly where he needs to be.

Make It Three | 3.2k

It takes him twenty full minutes to realize what he has said, and then it hits him like a goddamn freight train.

Oh no. Oh no.

Buck just hung up on the phone on Athena Grant telling her that he loved her like he’s been doing it every day of his life.

Oh no.

.

Or

Buck slips up and tells Athena he loves her. He has a bit of a freak out.

Words Unsaid | 2.2k

“What’s going on?” Bobby and Buck say in unison.

“You two,” Athena announces, “are going to talk things out.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Buck says, like a liar. “Everything is fine.”

.

Buck overhears Bobby say that he's not his kid. He doesn't take it very well.

Lay You Down | 2k

Buck is sick and can't be left alone in his feverish state, but everyone is working.

Everyone but Athena.

That Which We Carry | 2.1k

Bobby stops in his tracks.

Buck is sitting on the ground, next to his own car, his keys and phone forgotten next to him. His breathing is loud and short and he has his head in his hands so that his face is hidden.

He’s having a panic attack.

To Be Loved, To Belong | 3.1k

5 times Buck almost tells his family what they mean to him.

+1 time he does.

Buried | 2.3k

It’s supposed to be a simple call.

Of course, everything goes wrong.

Just As It Was | 2.3k

After the lawsuit, Buck overworks himself trying to prove his worth to the team.

One day, he pushes too far.

Sunlight | ~500

The Buckley siblings have a bet about what Maddie and Chim’s kid’s first word will be.

Family Matters | ~500

A look into the future at Bobby’s retirement party.

Humor & Fluff

Freedom In Love | 1.1k

“You can’t keep ignoring this,” Maddie says – again.

She says it a lot. His answer is pretty much always the same.

“Actually, I can. And I think I will. This is working great for me so far. It’s like Schrödinger’s confession, if I don’t say anything, Eddie can’t reject me.”

Green Heart | 3k

Buck starts seeing a man.

Eddie worries he is being a bigot, because the idea of Buck kissing another man makes him want to punch someone.

What else could it be?

The Most Perfect Moment | 1.7k

After Shannon, Eddie never thought that he would ever want to get married again.

Yet, a little red box lays in his pocket until the perfect moment to propose comes around.He has been carrying it for weeks now, waiting.

He wants his proposal to be perfect because he knows that this is the last time he will ever be asking this question. Buck is it for him. There will never be anyone else.

Blame It On Chimney | 1k

“So anyway, that’s how Chimney saw me full-on naked.”

Eddie chokes on his beer.

How It Looks | ~400

Someone is back to haunt Chim. Well, not exactly someone. Hen is tired.

The Rest Of Our Lives | ~500

One night, one conversation that changes everything between Buck and Eddie.

Tumblr Prompts

lover, be good to me | 7.1k

This is a collection of unrelated prompts first posted on my tumblr.

(Summary of each story in the first chapter's notes)

Eddie touching Buck’s birthmark | ~300

Eddie in a relationship is a clingy Eddie | ~200

Halloween at the station | ~500

Buck & Maddie being their cute selves |  ~400

Misc.

from the bottom i come running | 3.7k

Co-written with the endlessly talented ksmalltalk / @letitialewiss​

Crossover with Lone Star.

Just a soccer match for charity and two men cheering on their boyfriends.

Wait, no. Eddie and Buck are not dating, no matter what Chim and Hen can say.

Or

In the stands, Eddie befriends TK whose boyfriend is playing alongside Buck. Out on the pitch, Buck and Carlos are a force to be reckoned with.

Oh, and someone gets hurt.

safe inside | 5.6k

Co-written with the biggest-brained and most talented chasingobligion / @starlightbuck​

World-famous actor TK Strand and his bodyguard Carlos find themselves seeking shelter from fans and paparazzi in a bakery Carlos knows very well.

Or

Baking leads to a few life changes.

Breathe You In | 2k

Eddie can’t stop staring.

This selfie is going to be the death of him.Buck is shirtless, and giving the camera an intense look that leaves Eddie panting.

Or

Buck sends a picture that tips their relationship into something new.