#I get that it's summer and it's hot at night but she's sleeping at 2am or later and neither my sister or me can sleep if she doesn't

[dragoninahumancostume]

I hate it when it's like 2am and I get a wave of one of the feelings on the sad spectrum and my chest starts to hurt

[kiachiako]

stars, moons, & other celestial bodies | j.jh

pairing | jaehyun x female!reader

synopsis | With your fizzy drinks and vinyls in tow, you’re determined to make the most of your summer before the start of your first year at university. Everything’s seemingly perfect; humid afternoons with your closest friends, late-night mixers at your local alumnis' estates, and sleeping in to ungodly hours. What you didn’t predict, however, was your brother making the early trip home to surprise you with a certain someone — namely, his best friend since childhood — following closely behind. His unexpected appearance throws you off, and suddenly, your summer is filled to the brim with his presence. You’re finally able to taste the idea of mature love, but is it really all that it’s made out to be?

content | brother!taeyong, retro-themed au, angst, fluff, coming of age, language warning, suggestive, mentions and consumption of alcohol/drugs

wc | 26.7k

song | delicate — taylor swift

a/n | for @hyuckmov and @rrxnjun, who kept me sane while writing this monster :D

...

The first week of summer before your freshman year of university is defined by sticky ‘n sweet cherry cola, rides around the abandoned carousel with your friends, and “borrowing” quarters out of your brother’s Cadillac to insert into the jukebox of the local diner; break has been this way since as long as you could remember. It's a familiar itinerary, one that plays back routinely every school break.

You’ve grown up without even realizing, your teenage days spent juggling academic work and getting into stupid situations with Mark and Chaewon trickling down to a close. This conclusion really hit you during an epiphany on a sweltering night after high school graduation. 

It occurred in the midst of humid sepia air, the three of you still in your graduation caps and gowns as your bodies lay splayed across the asphalt leading down to your street. With the absence of cars coming down the wide road, it was perfectly rational to lay side by side in the middle of the cul-de-sac. The ground was simply the best place to ponder your thoughts and get lost in swirling memories now that university lay too close on the horizon; the sheer size of the sky seemed to mock your trio as you watched the clouds roll on by in their mismatched shapes and harrowing wisps. 

A cigar — one comically too big for his face — hung between Mark’s fingers as he pushed his body to flop over your arm, the thing no doubt “borrowed” from the bottom of his father’s office drawer.

“Thank the Lord I’ll never have to see you bitches again,” he had sighed in pretend relief, blowing a tunnel of smoke into the side of your face as you pushed his warm skin off of yours. Chaewon snorted from beside you.

“Please, as if you’ll last a day without us at uni,” she retorted, rolling over onto her stomach and pulling a face at Mark’s teasing words. “I can’t even count the amount of times I’ve saved your life over this past month alone.”

“Yeah?” Mark grinned, supporting his upper body with his forearms as he turned to look at her over your relaxed figure. “Enlighten me.” She subsequently raised her eyebrows at him.

“Might I remind you of the time you got stuck at the drive-through cinema at 2am because you had locked yourself out of your car? And guess whose asses had to haul yours back home two hours away,” Chaewon pointed an accusing finger at Mark, her tone joking as she glared at said boy. He opened his mouth to say something but she held up a finger to her mouth in a shushing motion, stopping him. “And. Let’s not forget last week,” Mark furrowed his eyebrows, as if trying to recall which out of all the dumb decisions he had made was about to be relived, “when Kang Yujin pushed up on you during that one house party, you got a hard on from just that, and we had to cover for you-”

Mark shot up abruptly, leaning over you to slap a hand over Chaewon’s mouth before rushing to defend himself.

“But she was so hot, Chae, you wouldn’t understand,” he whined at her, frowning at you to do something and sympathize with him. It was expected by now, the regular petty and half-assed arguments making your friendship that much stronger.

As they continued bickering back and forth, you couldn’t help but let your mind drift away back into the clouds, the setting sun soaking them with a blazing, burnt umber. You would be going to college soon, and that meant no Mark, no Chaewon, and no parents to keep you sane. It was strange to imagine not spending every waking moment with your two best friends, and even stranger to think that going to different schools would mean no more daily drama fill-ins and midnight convenience store runs.

But after all, you had done it once, and you hoped you could do it again.

When your older brother Taeyong left for university a few years ago, it had practically shattered you. Sure, you found him incredibly annoying at times (still do) and had a constant vendetta against the man, but when the moment came to hug him goodbye, you just couldn’t bring yourself to let go. He had shown you the ins and outs of adolescence and given you the attention you craved when your parents couldn’t. He taught you how to take care of yourself, how to look in the mirror and recognize your worth, how to know your own limits, and how to realize that high school boys weren’t shit. He was always the first to get to the hospital when you had gotten hurt at school, and most important of all, he was with you throughout the highs and lows growing up.

If Taeyong leaving home had taught you anything, it was that time moves too fast — and it’ll only move faster as you get older. You know that your life is about to enter Round 2, and this time without anyone to hold your hand as you enter an unfamiliar place with unfamiliar people.

But it’s not over just yet.

Your best friends would never let that happen, and you recognize this now as your golden trio sits in your town’s local record shop, with ceiling fans whirring above you as the cool storefront protects you from the blazing summer heat.

It’s after-hours but the sun still burns bright into the late afternoon. You recline in the cashier chair as Chaewon flips the 'open' sign closed and makes her way back to you and Mark, the latter sitting against the wall with a variety of bottles surrounding him on the checkered floor. 

He’s in an odd position, and you just know his mother would flip if she saw him with this much alcohol on a wednesday afternoon (at least it’s not a Sunday after mass, but she definitely doesn’t need to know that he’s been there, done that already). Mark tests out new concoctions every week, using the record store as his work space; the owner’s never in town and barely any customers come in to buy records these days, so there’s no one to stop him. Chaewon raises her eyebrows as she eyes the newest addition to his special menu.

“I’m not even gonna ask,” you say as he swirls the amber liquid around in a clean whisky bottle. Mark whistles at his creation, impressed, before holding it up to you and shaking it tauntingly. It smells slightly floral, the sharp flavors of absinthe and cognac making your nose scrunch.

“You’re just mad that your mixes don’t hit as hard as mine, baby.” With another swirl, he lifts the drink up to his mouth to taste. “And because you so nicely asked,” Mark smirks at you, “it’s Peychaud’s Bitters, cognac, syrup, and anise, and I give you my permission to borrow the recipe to impress your future uni friends. You’re welcome.” You shove Mark’s shoulder with your palm as he laughs at your baffled expression, body shaking with amusement while he sips away at his newest pride. 

It’s only when Chaewon reaches over to steal the bottle away from him that your phone starts ringing, startling all three of you as the name of your older brother flashes across the screen. Mark looks at you inquisitively, but you just shrug in response and press the receive button.

“Tae?” you inquire, surprised at the sudden call. “Everything okay?”

He hums at the end of the line. 

“More than okay. Guess whose plans just changed and is actually coming home today for break,” he reveals right away, and you know he’s smiling by the way his tone of voice is lilted in true Taeyong fashion.

“No fucking way,” you breathe out, eyes widening. Taeyong’s back? “Today, right now? For the entire summer? You’re actually lying- wait wait I’m coming home right now. Wait. Wait for me.”

“‘Wait wait wait,’ I’m not going anywhere sis,” he grins as he mocks you, noises of shuffling sounding out over your phone speaker. “Mom’s gonna pick me up from the airport in 30, I think. See you then?”

“Lee Taeyong! How could you not tell me,” you frown into the receiver, “I need at least three business days to prepare before seeing your face.”

“Oh, shut up would you. I have literal voicemail receipts of you crying about how much you miss me,” Taeyong retorts, topping your sarcasm. 

You sigh, rubbing your temple when you realize that Taeyong’s never gonna let your sad-drunk voicemails go. “Fine, but you better spend every single day with me.”

Taeyong protests jokingly before giving in, promising you that he’ll make up for the time you’ve missed together. With a little, love you, and more of his usual unsolicited comments, the two of you say your quick goodbyes and you turn back to your waiting friends. 

“Damn, Taeyong’s really back?” Mark looks at you in awe, his eyes shining with admiration. “He never stays for long, that’s crazy. You gotta let me come over at least once,” he pleads, hands grabbing yours. You know that your best friend looks up to your brother a ton, so you nod at him. “Sick, imma finally be able to talk music with him.”

“Wait, if Taeyong’s coming home for the entire summer,” Chaewon pauses, a knowing smile growing on her face as you groan, knowing exactly what she’s about to say next, “that means a certain Jeong Jaehyun will probably be following him back as well. And likely other kids in their year too from SNU… holy shit, the parties are gonna be literally insane this summer.” She throws her head back in elation as the realization strikes the three of you at once.

“You’re so right,” Mark covers his mouth to hide the smug grin taking over his face. He makes a heart with his hands as he observes you. “I can’t believe that I forgot Miss Y/N over here had the biggest crush on Jaehyun in high school.” You hit him on the chest in response as he absolutely loses it over your misfortune. 

“Lovergirl,” he sing-songs, adding fuel to the fire while you shove your face into your palms. Your cheeks warm on their own when your mind flash-backs to your second year of high school, your insufferable crush on your brother’s best friend surfacing memories that you had buried after they both had graduated two years ago.

“I’m leaving,” you mumble into your hands, “all you two do is make me suffer.” 

Chaewon grins at you before pulling your figure into a tight hug, tugging Mark in too by his shirt to join your little group. 

“It’s out of love,” she giggles before kissing your cheek with an exaggerated muah. Turning slowly towards Mark, he lets out a, “nope nope nope,” before scrambling away from Chaewon’s outstretched arms.

Smiling at their antics, you collect your few belongings and tuck some new records under your arm before heading out of the shop. Saluting your friends goodbye and opening the front door, you cringe at the wave of heat that seeps into the cool space. 

“Say hi to Taeyong for me, Y/N! We’ll lock up for today,” Chaewon calls out from behind the counter, sending you an air kiss when you step out into your town’s center square.

The streets buzz with life as you make the quick walk back to your house. With a brilliant sunset soaking the streets in tangerine tones and a line of quaint shops’ wind chimes fluttering beside you, you can’t bring yourself to care about the heat. The alleys you stroll down are comfy, lined with the latest pastel DeLoreans and colorful paper garlands tied along their telephone lines. It’s a complete memory lane, and your comfy suburb — filled with traditional gaewa roofs and terracotta neutrals, clay-red stained roads and gated hanoks — hold a familiarity that no other could replace. It’s the more cramped side of town, and you might envy Taeyong’s thrilling city life that you see through his social media, but nothing will ever beat home.

Your lace camisole sticks to your skin with fervor as you finally get to your own address, letting out a sigh of relief when cool shade encompasses you in the juniper-tinted light of the mudroom. Setting your brand-new records onto the kitchen floor, their faded titles peeking over thin paper sheaths, you make yourself comfortable on the floor as you hum to yourself. The house is quiet.

You put one of the new records into your player before your gaze drifts over to a stack of pictures on the tabletop, filtered evenly between stray letters and tacky postcards that your older brother has always had a knack for. 

In addition to texting and calling home every month, Taeyong made it a habit a few years ago to send you the little magazine cut-outs and mini posters that he sees on his escapades, trinkets that remind him of you. Your little kitchen-counter-collection has thinned out in the past months as your brother got increasingly busier with school and his modeling jobs, barely coming home for a few days before rushing back for castings and elite functions. Nonetheless, a little orange package addressed to you would appear at your doorstep with each change of the seasons, tinged with your brother’s cologne and topped with his messy handwriting.

Just as you place the needle on a shiny black record with Missy Elliot’s face plastered across its front, you hear the front door creak open before noises of rolling luggage and playful shouting fill the house's interior. 

“Mom, I’m not ten anymore,” you hear Taeyong whine in the higher-pitched voice he reserves solely for family, the telltale sign of his embarrassment, “I can carry my backpack myself. Promise.”

You can imagine the scene before you even see it: your brother looking away to the window as he tries to fight the smile creeping on his face, your mother on her tip-toes as she musses with her son’s hair even though he’s a head taller, and of course, your father leaning against the door with a content grin as his watches his wife’s face light up with happiness that the family is together again.

When you hear their footsteps near your seated figure on the kitchen floor, you feel your brother’s presence before you even see him. 

Taeyong stops a few paces away from you, dropping his bag carelessly on the ground before standing with his arms outstretched and eyebrows raised. With his messy hair and airport clothes still hanging off his shoulders, your brother looks like a favorite uncle at holiday dinners when he hasn’t seen his favorite niece and nephew all year.

“Aren’t you gonna come say hi to your best friend before you abandon me for your vinyls again,” he teases before crossing the threshold in three steps and embracing you fully. “It’s been a while, hmm rockstar?” 

You hum at the familiar term of endearment, sinking into his figure as your brother rocks you back and forth. You look up at him, his face looking more mature and sharp than when you saw him last.

“You gotta catch me up on that crazy life of yours, yeah? We have all summer.”

Nodding contently, you follow your brother and parents into the dining room for dinner before settling back into the feeling of having four people at home again. Just like the old days, before Taeyong left, where your worries were limited and you allowed yourself to be childish.

…

If anything makes you glad you’re alive, it’s being able to wake up at 2pm in the afternoon on a Thursday and feeling you just gained ten years. It’s truly a blessing, and if you were a bit more religious, you’d be thanking God right now for no school and black-out curtains.

Quickly getting ready, you give one last glance at yourself in the mirror before rushing downstairs to see if anyone’s home still. To your surprise, you catch Taeyong right as he’s opening the door to the basement. 

“So she’s alive,” he calls out with an approving nod, surprised that you actually managed to wake up before the sun sets once again. You roll your eyes as you pull cereal in front of you on the kitchen table. The two of you are back to your old ways in a matter of hours, making fun of each other at every chance you get.

“It’s not my fault you don’t know how to enjoy life, Tae,” you shrug, grabbing leftovers from the fridge. He simply tsks at you before walking over to affectionately ruffle your hair, drawing a complaint from you about messing it up.

“Anyway, some of my old friends are coming over today to catch up. We’re probably gonna be downstairs for a while so just let them in the front when they come,” your brother relays, moving back towards the basement when you throw up an okay sign. He gives you a knowing look. “You’re always welcome to join, you know. They all love you.”

You crinkle your nose at the idea. Sure, you’re pretty familiar with most of Taeyong’s high school friends, but you really aren’t too keen on the idea of spending your afternoon with a bunch of older boys when you could be hanging out with Mark and Chaewon.

“I’m okay. You guys have fun, though.”

Resuming your attention on your food, you open the front door a couple times over the next hour for said boys. Their features chiseled, styles changed, and voices a bit deeper, they’re all caught by surprise when you open the door for them (Yuta’s inability to recognise you at all really takes the cake). You suppose that a lot can change in two years.

After the seventh ring of the doorbell, you sigh in exasperation before making your way to the front once again. You grumble under your breath before opening the door, the bitter expression wiping right off your face when you see the two figures in front of you.

“Johnny!”

“Y/N,” the familiar boy exclaims, his towering stature enveloping you in a warm hug before pulling back and examining your growth. “Look who’s all pretty and grown! You look so much like Taeyong now that it’s scary,” he beams at you while turning your face side to side with his hands, and you can’t help but return it. If anyone was as much of an older brother figure as your real one was, it would be Johnny. 

“Hey,” a voice sounds out besides him after a few moments of Johnny’s compliments, startling you, and your eyes finally flick over to the subject of your teenage years’ daydreams. Your heart floods with a jittery feeling when he reaches out to give you a hug. “It’s nice to see you again, Y/N.” 

Jeong Jaehyun hasn’t changed a bit since you last saw him at your brother’s graduation. 

His hair is a bit longer now, dark brown curls shimmering gold in the sunlight and his ears now adorned with more silver studs and rings. But the sun-kissed freckles dusting his nose, the deep-set dimples, the starry eyes — they’re exactly the same as you remember.

He’s still breathtaking.

Johnny bursts your little moment as he grabs your arm to lead you back into your house, pulling both you and Jaehyun along with him to the basement entrance. 

Even though you’re painfully aware of your fingers nervously playing with the bracelets on your wrist, it’s true that these boys practically watched you grow up. Even when you look at a certain brown-eyed boy, your whole world feels like it's stopping. Even when your stupid childhood crush on your brother’s best friend was supposed to be gone by now. You know them, and they know you.

After Johnny and Jaehyun disappear down the stairs with a small goodbye and the invitation to join them once again, you head back up to your own room, collapsing onto your bed and staring up at the glow-in-the-dark stars plastered across your ceiling. 

You remember your brother and Jaehyun setting them up for you many years ago, their young figures using your bed as leverage to stick them on when you were still too short to reach. You had handed each star carefully to the boys, making sure the adhesive side was up before telling them where to place each one. They waited patiently for you to give them every star until the whole box was empty, the three of you high fiving before you had thanked them enthusiastically. Taeyong had simply pinched your cheek and said, “anything for my baby sister,” before pulling Jaehyun away to play another video game in the living room. 

Taeyong was a kind older brother, never complaining when your mother told him to bring you with him and his friends on their little adventures. Occasionally he found you annoying, but his friends never minded your presence, so he couldn’t find a reason to either. You were integrated into their daily outings, the boys taking turns talking and playing games with you as the days progressed.

You think your liking to Jaehyun started then: when your young mind easily confused admiration with puppy love. Your brother’s friends were the nicest boys you had met, certainly nicer than the boys in your class at school. Jaehyun specifically always made sure you were comfortable, making silly faces at you when your eyes met across the room and remembering to bring you snacks from across the street when he got some for his best friend. He was perfect in your eyes.

When you started hanging out more with your own friends as you got older, things never really changed regarding your feelings for the boy. Your secret crush was still as prominent as ever, eyes following his mess of hair whenever he passed you in the hallway at school; it didn’t help that his name was passed around no matter what year you were. Jaehyun this and Jaehyun that, you were definitely not the only girl whose heartbeat stopped whenever he looked their way. He was polite, confident, and undeniably charming, your school’s beloved basketball team captain and a favorite of teachers: the kind of boy everyone wanted to be out of envy, but couldn’t. He was truly untouchable. Your classmates would stare at you in awe when he waved at you through the classroom entrance, telling you how lucky you were that your brother and his group were so cool and how you had guys like Jaehyun over all the time. 

But it wasn’t like it was any different at home, where he would smile at you just the same as you worked on your homework in the kitchen before retreating back into the basement with Taeyong. 

Even though fifteen year-old you thought your feelings were pretty damn strong at that time, the age gap felt a bit too gaping where kids two years older felt worlds away. By seventeen, they were already off driving and taking weekend trips, your brother’s license making leeway for nights when he and his friends wouldn’t return until sunrise. It felt a little bit like you had been left behind, and yeah, it sucked, but you decided right then and there that you could have fun without them. Taeyong’s friends weren’t necessarily yours in the first place, and you came to the realization that it might have been strange for you to be so close with them at an older age anyway.

If you were sad about not seeing Jaehyun in particular too much anymore, you tried not to show it. Your best friends — Mark and Chaewon — had always known, teasing you relentlessly when the older boy was around, but the idea of him was only a lingering thought at the back of your mind when he graduated. Your ears still perked up hearing his name in passing, but you had your own problems to consume your thoughts and started getting into a new genre of trouble with your friends; the idea of Jaehyun was supposed to be dead and buried six feet under.

So then why was he plaguing your mind like this after years of successfully not thinking about him?

You groan and throw an arm over your face.

Shit.

…

“My little film-maker,” a voice pops up from above you, the grinning face of your brother accompanying it as he surprises you into oblivion. You make a face up at him and offer a reluctant little wave before returning back to your camcorder, zooming in on Chaewon beside you.

You’re on the asphalt outside your house again. The air’s cooler today, a gray sheet of clouds blocking any of the sun’s rays from reaching your golden trio. With your head on Mark’s legs, he strums his guitar gently as Chaewon hums along to the familiar tunes. Her hands are busy on their own, one arm out while her other uses markers to draw a garden into her skin with washed-out blues and oranges. 

You turn the camera around to point at Taeyong, the said boy poking his tongue out before plopping down beside Mark.

“I feel like I always find you guys on the ground,” he mutters, observing the way Mark strums his instrument with care and experience. Your friend looks a little intimidated with the proximity of Taeyong leaning towards him, but he plays on nevertheless.

You shrug. “It’s more comfortable.”

“And we’re a little closer to Hell down here,” Chaewon adds on with a grin, pausing from her flesh-art to look up at Taeyong. “We’ll all be heading there soon anyway.”

“Smart girl,” he laughs out, throwing his head back to stare into the sky. He stays there for a good moment before jumping back up onto his feet and twirling a shiny set of car keys around his fingers. “Anyway, I’m afraid I’ll have to steal Y/N for a bit,” your brother fakes a trail of tears down his cheek with his fist. “Don’t miss her too much.”

“Never,” Mark smirks at you, reaching out to pat your arm affectionately when you let out an offended, Oscar worthy sob at his words. 

“Don’t have more fun with him than you do with us, babe,” she calls out as Taeyong drags you off. You salute her back before she turns back to her painting.

Stumbling behind your brother to catch up with his long strides, your eyebrows raise when you catch sight of his infamous red Cadillac parked down the winding road. You grip on tighter to your camcorder before jogging up to the passenger side, ready to swing your legs over the side of the convertible. 

“Not so fast,” Taeyong calls out, amused, as he strolls up casually to the driver's side. “We’re picking up some of the guys and Johnny already called shotgun yesterday. Take it up with him, rockstar.”

You splutter indignantly before crossing to the backseat with a huff, sinking into the car’s tan, leather seats and crossing your arms. “Not fair, Tae,” you complain at him before he starts the engine, starting off in the direction of an area you’ve never been before. “Where are we even going?”

He doesn’t answer.

Soon enough, three more bodies crowd into your brother’s car after dropping by Jungwoo’s condo, the boy squishing into the back with you as Jaehyun of all people slides into the seat on the other side of you. They offer smiles and quick greetings to you before the car takes off once again. 

His proximity hits you far harder than Jungwoo’s, and you know exactly why. You keep your head tilted away from him as you try to focus on Johnny in the front seat, who’s passionately retelling an encounter he had at the supermarket this morning. It’s incredibly hard when Jaehyun moves and his thigh touches yours, fifteen year-old you coming back to life within you and screaming all sorts of insane things at your brain. You can physically feel his warmth radiating off his skin. 

“—so we both reach out at the same time, and luckily, I snatch the crate right before her hands do. But,” Johnny pauses to look through the rearview mirror for dramatic effect, his shades glinting as the Cadillac speeds through dusty roads. “You won’t believe who those hands belonged to.”

He stills with the skill of an A-list actor, reaching up to pluck the sunnies off his face and stare right into Jaehyun’s eyes through the silver glass.

“Lim Saemi.”

Everybody has a different reaction to the name-drop, with Jungwoo and Taeyong’s gasp and your muffled noise ringing out as your eyes widen in the slightest. You try to glance at Jaehyun subtly, and his face doesn’t flicker a bit from its usual stoic expression, but you can feel him tense up next to you before relaxing a few seconds later. He appears seemingly unphased, and if you had not been watching carefully from out of the corner of your eye you would have fallen for it.

You know better, though.

“Oh? Is she back home for the summer too?” Jaehyun throws out casually, tucking his chin in his hand as he looks out through the wind. 

“Wait Jae… you didn’t know? I thought if anyone would know first, it would be you,” Jungwoo leans back, surprised at this new development. “Even I knew, and everyone knows I don’t catch onto shit.”

“It’s whatever,” Jaehyun mumbles, deflecting the weird looks he receives. He ends the conversation with two words, and the car falls into silence with the only noises being those from tires against gravel. You glance at him before staring straight forward through the dash.

You know Lim Saemi.

Who doesn’t, in all honesty. Saemi is Saemi, and you’d be the weird one if you hadn’t heard her name at least once throughout your school years. She was like straight out of a Dior catalog. With as much impact as your older brother and his posse had left, she was everything all the girls in your year wanted to be: too pretty to be unnecessarily shallow, too smart to use her looks irrationally. 

You remember Lim Saemi.

She’s two years older, like Taeyong and Jaehyun and Johnny. She was the girl who was occasionally over at your house during parties when your brother would force you upstairs, her bleached hair and delicate features drawing in everyone immediately. You remember watching from the top of the stairwell as her figure still captured attention in the darkness of winter’s pitch black nights. From your outside point of view, it was like she was the center of a spindling web that stretched throughout the bottom floor of your house; people just couldn’t help but be lured to her.

You wanted to be Lim Saemi.

Just for one day. You needed to know what it felt like to be the center of a certain boy’s affections, even though she attracted every other person’s along the way as well. She was a different type of suburban it-girl, one that everyone was sure would get snatched up into the celebrity world sooner or later with the way she carried herself.

You knew that Jaehyun and Saemi had always been “just friends” — or at least that was what they told everyone — but you could tell he had liked her throughout their high school years. How could you not, especially when you looked at him the same way he looked at her. Back then, it was more curiosity about their complicated relationship than hate fueled jealousy for you. You still couldn’t help but imagine him treating you with the affection he did with her; even as a teenager, you understood why. And ironically, as you sit in the backseat of your brother’s car with the very boy right beside you, the bubbling feeling of envy is uncomfortable in your gut.

Shaking your head out of your retrospective thoughts, you look around in confusion when the convertible starts to slow on a thinning road, towering evergreens blocking the sky from view.

Leading the car through another winding path, it emerges on the other side within acres of grassy fields and wildflower paths that circles a grandiose, central estate home. Marble blocks stretch across its stone ledges like ivy — an intimidating facade if you’ve ever seen one. Taeyong looks at you through the rearview mirror. His eyes crease in pride when he sees the wonder in yours, enraptured by the sight before you. 

“Remember when Johnny said that he’d always wanted to go to a local car show?” your brother starts, grinning at his friend beside him. “Well, yours truly saw an ad at the record shop yesterday for one just outside of town. Someone compliment me, I feel like I just made all of our afternoons a thousand times better.”

“This is actually insane, Yong,” Jungwoo breathes out, eyes widening at the unfamiliar setting. 

Retro cars of all brands and models are parked across an acre, their shiny coats glinting in the sun as masses of people linger near and talk amongst themselves. The white pillars of whoever’s home is hosting the car show serves as a gathering place for lovers to mingle, precariously held champagne flutes an ironic contrast to the grit and dirt of the event itself.

Johnny lets out a low whistle before resting his weight on the center console and lowering his sunglasses, observing the scene. 

“This is exactly my type of place. Old, rich people and hot girls.” 

“Oh my god, Johnny,” you laugh out, not at all surprised that those words came from his mouth. 

You tear your gaze away from the outside view to look at Jaehyun after hearing his embarrassed groan at Johnny’s words. To your surprise, he’s already looking at you. With his piercing gaze on your face, you look away, flustered, playing it off with a small cough.

Taeyong parks his timeless Cadillac besides others of the same nature before leaving to roam around with Johnny and Jungwoo, buzzing with excitement. It’s no surprise that they make their way over to the group of girls huddled around a vintage truck model first, their giggles ringing out across the field as they throw sly glances to the boys headed their way. You catch sight of your brother leaning towards one in particular before deciding you’ve seen enough and turning to explore by yourself.

Thrilled to be left to your own devices, you follow your own little path off to the side towards a pastel-colored Corvette that had caught your eye earlier. Circling it for a few minutes and capturing it slowly through the lens of your camcorder, you smile happily to yourself while replaying the footage in the shade of a lonely willow tree. The cool breeze brings tangs of clementines and vanilla — from where, you don’t know — as well as the unmistakable scent of petrol and cigarettes as it picks up pieces of your hair before rustling the leaves of the willow.

“Can I see?” a familiar voice startles you. You look up to see Jaehyun’s lean figure making his way over to your crouched one, gesturing to your open camera with his head tilted. “If you’re comfortable, of course,” he adds, the corners of his lips quirking up. Mouth agape slightly for a few seconds, you shake yourself out of your momentary funk and nod, thrilled at his interest.

“The colors show up really well with this lighting, especially ‘cuz I just changed my saturation settings,” you mumble, stopping yourself when you realize he probably doesn’t care that much. Tucking your knees to your chest, you wait nervously as you hand the device to him.

You think your heartbeat just about stops when he replies with a “that’s so cool” under his breath.

Jaehyun holds the camera carefully to his chest before sitting down beside you, leaning against the tree trunk before flipping through your gallery. He takes his time watching every little video clip and picture, giving you a little noise of approval every few clicks. 

You’re caught off guard when he sighs and puts the camcorder back in your lap, turning to you with the most serious expression you’ve ever seen grace his features. 

“Y/N, you seriously might be better at this shit than the literal mixed media majors at my uni,” he deadpans. Taken aback, you can’t stop the rosy warmth that creeps up your cheeks. “I’m being so for real right now. Don’t ever stop.”

You pause.

“Do you know how reassuring that is to hear, especially from you?” you say with sincerity, holding eye contact with him.

“Hmm? Really, me?”

“Yeah. It feels like I’m doing something right, like I’m not wasting my time on a fruitless hobby.” Confessing one of your biggest fears to someone who’s familiar to you but not, close to you but not — now that’s probably one of the craziest things you’ve done this week, and you do a whole lot of crazy things in a week.

Jaehyun’s expression changes with your words. He doesn’t reply for a while, just seeming to take in the world around him with only his eyes. Looking from the drooping branches of the willow to its dirt-ingrained roots, his face is cast downwards with a faint, melancholic smile.

Now the mood is ruined, you think to yourself, bitter. Why do I always do this?

Before you can change the subject and move on from your awkward burt-out, he clears his throat. 

“You know, I admire you a lot Y/N. You and Taeyong,” he starts, the slim chain around his neck glittering in the afternoon sun when he turns back to you. “Both of you have always been unafraid to pursue the arts, even though I know how your strict parents are about future careers and all that. I wish I had the courage to just… do what I like instead of being a pushover with my dad. Maybe I would be doing music with your brother instead of barely living day by day in pre-med.”

His usual confident eyes are tinged with regret and a little vulnerability as he ruffles his hair in the wind. You tilt your head at him, trying to come up with comforting words when you aren’t so sure if you’re qualified to give him advice in the first place.

“Well… I admire you a lot, Jaehyun. You’ve always been that one person who consistently looks like they have their life in check, someone who’s able to put their all in everything that they do. It’s really a quality to be proud of,” you say to him honestly. “I think you’ll do well wherever you end up. So don’t worry too much, okay?”

The boy stares at you like no one’s ever said that to him, and no one has; even if this might be a passing comment for you, it’s something that he feels relief to finally hear.

“Thanks.” He says it so quietly that you almost miss it, but you can hear the gratefulness in his voice nevertheless. You both look away for a few seconds when a brilliant yellow bird flutters past the two of you, settling on the ground in front to peck at a white speck in the soil. “Pretty,” he mumbles under his breath, blinking at the animal.

And with that, Jaehyun shakes his head a bit before resuming back to his relaxed demeanor. He lets out a breath of air and runs his tongue over his teeth. 

“Sorry for getting so deep all of a sudden,” he apologies, sheepishly rubbing his neck as you let out a little laugh.

“No, it’s nice to hear that the Valentine Boy has troubles too,” you tease lightly, recalling the God-like aura he used to carry 24/7 when you were younger and the nick-name that followed him around as a result. Jaehyun visibly cringes at your words, no doubt getting high school flashbacks.

“Not that,” he replies, embarrassed. “Anyway, I feel like I haven’t gotten the chance yet to ask you how you’ve been these past few years.” You glance up at him in surprise. He sounds strangely sincere for someone you weren’t that close with out of your brother’s friends, and the confusion must show on your face because he finds it in himself to clarify. “Oh come on, Y/N. I feel like we’ve known each other since forever but I’ve missed a crucial part of your growing up. You’re like a whole different person now.”

“I’d hope so,” you lament, fiddling with your camcorder. “I’ve gone through too much shit to be the same as sixteen-year old me.” Jaehyun laughs out loud at your answer, knowing exactly how you feel as someone who was once a fresh, high school graduate.

“Yeah? Well it seems like just yesterday when you were complaining about being bored after school from not having enough homework—” he stumbles over his words when you push his body with a light shove, the boy barely able to get breaths in with how much he’s laughing at your past cluelessness of how hard high school would really be.

“None of you guys warned me about the horror of calculus, so that is not my fault Jaehyun,” you pout, shaking your head at him.

“So it’s my fault?” he smiles, questioning your statement.

“Yes.” A lie.

“And I’m the reason why you almost failed second semester math?”

“Yes.” Another lie. Wait. “What— how do you even know about that?” You demand, incredulous. Jaehyun just raises his eyebrows and hides his growing grin behind his hand. “Fucking Lee Taeyong.”

He looks overjoyed at your seething, playfully poking out his bottom lip in a mock-frown before getting up and dusting off his pants. Offering a hand to you, Jaehyun uses his strength to pull you to your feet; you’re hyper-aware of the warmth of his palm as your hands linger for a millisecond before he pulls away. 

I’m so screwed, you think to yourself, blinking at the sky with fervor. Shaking your head, you tuck your hand to your side and try not to think of his skin on yours.

“They’re finally done flirting,” he notes with a hum, making an acute observation as you both spy the three other boys heading back to the car, their reluctant forms obvious when you see one girl hold up her hands in a ‘call me’ sign.

Smirking, you skip ahead of Jaehyun before turning back and waving your wallet at him.

“25000 won that we’ll see one of those girls walk out of Tae’s room tomorrow morning,” you chant as Jaehyun jogs to catch up with you. Chuckling, he pushes your wallet away.

“Nah, that man doesn’t give a fuck about the time of day. 25000 that she’s gonna be at your house in twenty,” he counters, snorting when you gag at the thought.

You can’t help but light up at his content face; this feels like this is the first time you’ve ever had a real, honest to goodness, conversation with him as a young adult.

And you’re in trouble, because you think you like it more than you should.

…

“I did it,” Chaewon confesses over the phone, the sound of a knife against a chopping board from her end revealing her current position.

“What,” you inquire, “you finally passed your license test?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Never.” You flash a wicked grin at the sheet music in your hands, shuffling through the never-ending leaflets. 

When Taeyong had said he’d pay you to organize his papers, you clearly weren’t thinking straight enough to be saying yes to this hell. He’s been out for an hour already and not even a third of the pile is sorted through. You slump forward on the couch and shake out your tired hands, groaning when your knuckle hits the coffee table with a painful thump.

“For your information, I don’t need to drive. Hot girls take public transportation,” she retorts with a humph.

“Can’t argue with you there, passenger princess.”

“Oh please, I can literally feel the sarcasm dripping from your voice.”

You laugh, a “you know me, Chae” accompanying the sound ringing out through your empty house. Gathering Taeyong’s work into your arms and dumping the rest on the table, you slide onto the carpeted ground with a sigh. Your bones are overly sore from sitting for too long and the couches seams have made painful, little white imprints on your thighs. With a click of your tongue, you inwardly curse your brother for offering such good deals to a minimum wage paid, about-to-be uni kid, or else you wouldn't be spending a perfectly good Saturday afternoon on whatever this is.

“So,” you prompt, “what did you do this time.”

“Ha,” Chaewon starts.

“I’m scared.”

“Ran into Jaehyun today.”

“Aaand that’s my cue to hang up now,” you sing, slipping the phone between your shoulder and ear, the warm device tucked neatly in the crevice of your neck before you hear the sound of your doorbell ringing out. 

“Wait—”

“Hold on for a sec, Chae. Someone’s at the door.” 

You will yourself to get up from the carpet before making your way over to the front of the house, preparing yourself for a blast of hot summer air to hit you. The silver knob twists under your hand as you swing the door open slowly, expecting the mailman or a delivery on your front porch. Certainly not—

“—Hey.”

Your eyes flick up in surprise.

“Oh shit,” Chaewon whispers over the phone. “That’s not who I think it is, right?”

It’s been a week since you last saw Jaehyun face to face, and your conflicted inner thoughts have been battling in your conscience for the entirety of it. Well, this isn’t great.

“Hi Jaehyun,” you manage to sound out, mentally chastising yourself for sounding so nervous.

“And that’s my cue to hang up now,” the voice at the other end of your call snickers, the long beep of it ending blaring into your ear. 

Your arm drops to your side, phone in hand, as you stare pointedly at Chaewon’s contact info lighting up the screen, her eyes mocking you through her profile picture. Jaehyun lifts an eyebrow as he looks between your phone and your face, seemingly questioning if you’re currently busy through his eyes alone.

“Umm…” your gaze flits around in flusteration, looking just about anywhere but him. “Taeyong’s not home right now, if that’s why you’re here.”

“Oh? Do you know when he’ll be back?” he asks, relaxed as he leans his body against the doorframe.

“He’s picking up stuff from Johnny’s across town, so like,” you glance up at the clock, “an hour? I could uh… call you when he gets back if you want.”

Jaehyun simply pokes his tongue into his cheek in contemplation before tucking his hands into his pockets.

“Nah, it’s okay. I’ll just stay.” With a small smile, he adds on, “if you're okay with that, of course.”

You peer past him to see his shiny black Mustang sitting in front of your house, before returning to your original position and shrugging at the foyer. Losing your shyness momentarily as you let out a puff of air, you follow Jaehyun in before deciding to answer.

“My company is a blessing in itself, isn’t it,” you think out loud, displaying a cheeky smile when Jaehyun turns around to playfully scoff at you.

“Now that’s a sure thing, Y/N.” 

The boy seats himself on one of the kitchen barstools and places his chin in his hand, leaning over the counter to stare at you as you busy yourself with the fridge.

In all honesty, you weren’t prepared to see him again. He’s already been occupying your mind a little too much for your liking during this past week, the idea of his return to your life teetering you on the edge of insanity. You didn’t know high school crushes hit that hard two years later, and it certainly doesn’t help that his golden skin and constellation of tawny freckles have made an almost daily appearance in the Lee household — just like the old times.

“I think we still have that special glass-bottled lemonade from the farmer’s market last weekend, unless,” you pause, sifting through the multitude of items in the ice box. “Yup. Nevermind. Taeyong finished all of them.”

Jaehyun snorts, already familiar with his best friend’s midnight tendencies of clearing out the fridge whenever, wherever.

“We also have water? And um… milk. And Vodka.”

“This sounds like Yuta’s fridge, and that thought alone is like, genuinely terrifying,” Jaehyun observes from behind you. You shake your head, recalling the first time you saw the said boy’s freezer stash of condiments and liquor at a house party a few years ago. Only condiments and liquor.

“Oh! And cold noodles,” you hold up the container with a little shake. “I remember you liking my mom’s version of them,” you mumble quietly, willing yourself to turn around when the cold air from the fridge starts to sting your eyes.

Jaehyun observes you curiously, a question at the tip of his tongue. You remember?

He stops himself from blurting it out when you seat yourself across from him and push the container towards his direction.

“You practically live here anyway. Help yourself,” you say a bit louder, embarrassed about the fact that you remember such a miniscule detail about him.

You squint at the countertop — which you honestly wish would swallow you whole — as Jaehyun moves around you to pour himself a glass of water. His muscles strain against his loose t-shirt as he moves around your kitchen with familiarity, and you turn away with wide eyes when you realize you’ve spaced out while staring at his back.

It’s a situation that younger you would have never imagined; you had simply never been left in a room with him alone. Your brother and his other friends were always there, a subtle reminder of the distance between you two and the fact that he was probably still worlds away.

But you’re an adult now, and it’d be a lie if you said that you don’t want Jaehyun to notice you in that way.

Feelings are too complicated to think about sober. You grimace to yourself, pressing two fingers against your temple as you lean your cheek against the cool, hard marble of the countertop.

“Y/N?” you lift your head up at your name, flinching back in surprise when Jaehyun’s face appears at the edge of your vision, his figure buzzing with excitement as he gapes at you. “This is yours, right?”

Your eyes drift to the black canisters in his palm. My film.

“Oh yeah— wait. I forgot to develop those ones,” you make your way over and take the undeveloped film rolls into your hands, the boy observing you with wide eyes.

“That’s sick. Do you develop them yourself?” 

“Hm? Nah, I bring them to the camera store downtown. Left them in the fridge to preserve for a while so they should be good to go now.”

It’s only when you look up from the canisters that you spy his expression, the pure giddiness painted on his features catching you off guard. Jaehyun’s body language tells you that he is unnervingly thrilled about his new discovery.

“You were never into this kind of stuff when Taeyong and I were still here in high school,” he brings up slowly, letting the words sit on his tongue before following you when you head towards the stairs. “If I had known…” he trails off, pursing his lips to the side so that his notorious dimples show.

You peer at him over your nose bridge curiously. If he had known, he would've what?

Jaehyun pokes his tongue into his cheek and furrows his brows, thinking about the times when he was over at your house after school and you would be nowhere to be seen. Is the dark room where you were, or were you out taking pictures at the rink and shooting short films with your friends? Maybe at the park with your old camcorder and skateboard? The fact that he never knew about so many of your hobbies is almost troubling considering how long he’s known you, and it makes him shift in place. He supposes he never really took the time to know his best friend’s little sister, but looking at you as you stare back, you’re so much more than that. 

Had you always shared so much in common?

“Well, imma go upstairs and watch a movie,” you resume your climb before pointing upward. “You can come up until Tae comes home, if you want?”

The boy glances at the door momentarily, contemplating how Taeyong would react if he found him in his sister’s room. Would he kill me? Maybe.

He shrugs. Fuck it, I could totally beat him in a fight, Jaehyun reasons, smiling to himself. He doesn’t know how he reached that conclusion, but he thinks he’s joking. Mostly.

“The real question is, what’re we watching? If it’s some romcom shit I’m leaving,” Jaehyun raises a challenging brow with his smirk as he follows you nonetheless, hand following yours dangerously close on the wooden handrail.

“Not my problem you’ve got no taste.”

“Oh please,” he rolls his eyes, pushing his body into view as you push open your bedroom door, “I might actually die if I see DiCaprio’s face one more time, and you can’t tell me it’s not you that has all of his movies in the living room cabinet, ‘cause they’re definitely not your brother’s.”

“That seems a bit of a personal issue between you and him, Jaehyun,” you let out a laugh with your words. Turning around to flick on the light switch, you’re met with his face closer than it was before. “What.”

“What?” he repeats, almost mockingly. “Oh, sweetheart. You think this face isn’t DiCaprio level?”

Your face heats up without your consent, flustered at the sudden proximity and the fact that you most definitely think Jaehyun’s better than all of your favorite actors combined. You would never admit that to him for the life of you, though.

You swallow before pushing him lightly, making your way into the center of your bedroom.

“Admit it,” he sings, not giving up as he relentlessly parks himself in front of you with his legs set further apart so that he can look at you at eye level. “I bet even Ji Chang-wook’s got nothing on me.”

“Woah woah woah,” you gasp in offense, throwing a hand up to your chest. “Now that’s crossing the line, buddy. Ji Chang-wook’s got something on everybody.”

“I bet,” Jaehyun drawls out sarcastically, eyes flipping to the ceiling ludicrously slow. He seems to glitch for a few seconds, mouth open but no words coming out. “Especially with the way his face is plastered… on… your ceiling? You fall asleep to that?”

Your eyes widen when you have the sudden realization that Jeong Jaehyun is in your room, in your personal space, looking at your things. And that most certainly includes the poster of Ji Chang-wook next to the plastic stars above your bed, glassy, plastic-y eyes staring down at your ruffley bed sheets and everything. In your defense, it was the result of a lost dare — but he doesn’t know that. Wow, you think to yourself, regretting all of your life decisions, I’m just so good at first impressions.

“Yes,” you give up somewhat dejectedly, offering him a (hopefully) confident smile before pulling a projector from under your bed and setting it up on your bedside table.

Jaehyun just shrugs and seats himself on your bed, muttering a little “cute” that you miss before observing as you give the machine a few good slaps so it’ll turn on. Settling against the wall, he lets his eyes flutter over your decor and multitude of things plastered across every inch of your space. If anything, the way your room’s changed since the last time he was in it gives him an outlook into your life that he wouldn't have known otherwise. 

From the blockbuster movie ads on your door to the unfiltered sunlight reflecting off your mirror, the shoelaces tied around your closet door to the origami threaded around your ceiling fan, he feels like he’s falling. Maybe, just maybe, he even finds a bit of himself in the painted shoe boxes shoved under your desk and your circular record shelf. Even the stars he and Taeyong stuck on years ago are still there too. He recognizes bits and pieces here and there, but thrown together in one place, a cohesive picture forms in front of him. It’s suffocating — in a good way — as if he’s been thrown into the unknown and is hit with a new side of you at full force; everything, everywhere, all at once.

“Ha!” you exclaim, holding out a fist for Jaehyun to bump when your projector flickers on. With a bright grin, you flop onto the bed beside him and wait for the whirring of the projector to start with a hollow click.

The beginning few seconds of the film you’ve chosen roll onto your makeshift movie screen, a white sheet hanging by its threads from your vanity, as the bright images light up your figures with a burning white.

Jaehyun figures out what you’ve done just as a familiar face blurs into view, the moving calligraphy of The Great Gatsby scrawled across your bedroom wall while you poke out your tongue at him, high off of the mere fact that you’ve gotten your way. You hear him let out a defeated sigh from beside you, his knee hitting yours as he settles into your comforter nevertheless.

“Sharp as hell, aren’t you. I should’ve known DiCaprio would show up in my sight sooner or later.”

…

Summer tastes like melted sugar crystals in cherry garcia  — or rather, summer tastes like Mark Lee’s Strawberry-Rouge Extravaganza, the latest, state-of-the-art item on his Record Shop menu. When you ask why the random French is thrown in there, he defends himself adamantly, claiming that his three years of secondary French language classes have practically made him a local.

“It’s like a metaphor for saying, ‘I love you,’” Mark claims with sass, even though you don’t make the connection (“That’s not what a metaphor is…?” you mumble quizzically under your breath). He ignores the weird look you throw at him and goes back to his mixing on the counter of the cashier station. “And it feels like a warm hug, because what better to express that than sparkly, drunk goodness.”

“Wow,” Chaewon deadpans, not even looking up from her nails that she’s painting right next to him. The mix of nail polish and liquor makes you scrunch your nose as you organize the main display, a rotating shelf that headlines Blondie. “You should be a poet. You have such a way with words.”

“I don’t need your negativity in my life, girly.” You almost choke on air when you hear a sharp snap of Chae’s gum in retaliation, her icy glare making Mark wilt under her gaze. 

Their intense, non-verbal argument is saved by the dinging of a customer opening the door to the shop. You whip around to greet them only for your words to die right in your throat. Two silhouettes step in, their tall stature and familiar features blocking the sun from shining through the entranceway.

“…Jaehyun, Jungwoo! How are you guys?” Mark offers when he sees you fall silent.

The two greet happily right back, sliding past you to pat him on the back and exchange handshakes. Jaehyun lingers by your side for a little, holding his fist out for you to tap like you did just the other day in your room.

“We knew we’d find you guys in here,” Jungwoo laments, looking around the shelves before his eyes land on Mark’s… setup. You have to admit, this one looks a bit more pleasant than his past drink recipes, and you can tell that Jungwoo agrees wholeheartedly. His hand lingers on a bottle of sparkling vanilla wine as Mark slices red fruit ardently with a plastic, cafeteria knife. A paper cup holds the rest of his special ingredients: rock candy on wooden sticks, shattered candy hearts, and star-shaped ice cubes. You’d be lying if you didn’t admit that it looked delicious, like something you would order at a beach-side bar. 

Jungwoo seems to find the situation amusing, a trio of barely-adults passing slow, withering days in their own little makeshift paradise. Leaning against the countertop like he’s on the cover of Parisian Vogue, he nicks his baseball cap up a bit higher to look into the three of yours’ eyes better.

“Johnny’s throwing a party.”

That’s all anyone needs to say before Chaewon’s attention is snagged, her eyes gaining an undeniable gleam.

“We’re going,” she speaks for everyone in the room, especially looking you square in the eyes as if saying, you’re not escaping this time, young lady.

“Mhm,” Jaehyun confirms, a hand rubbing at his pulse as he swings an arm over Jungwoo’s shoulders. “A fancy mixer, kinda, the day after tomorrow. We’ll have all the booze, so the only thing you need to bring is yourself.”

“And,” the latter chimes in, “it’s at Johnny’s countryside estate, so y’all can do whatever illegal shit you kids get yourself into without worrying about anything.”

Chaewon lets out a small scoff at his words, mumbling a “we still do here it anyway” under her breath and throwing a knowing look at the alcohol in front of Mark that’s very blatantly in every passerby’s sight.

As Jungwoo relays more information about the plans to them at the front of the shop, Jaehyun turns to follow your path as you diligently place records back in their places in the depths of the store. 

“Do you wear silver or gold?” 

You jump at his appearance out of nowhere, glancing at him with a certain hesitation at his question. Your confusion as to how this topic appeared so suddenly is painted blatantly across your face as you close the last turntable with a click. 

“Why?” You pause. “But both. Depends on my mood.”

“Because this is yours now.”

He reaches into his jeans’ front pocket, pulling out something in his fist before reaching for your hand and dropping a small, plastic ring in the middle of it. 

It’s neon orange and ugly as hell, like something you would find stuck to gum on the underbelly of a school desk. But hey, who are you to complain when Jaehyun looks so pleased at himself as he looks between your face and the ring, trying to gauge your reaction to his surprise gift. And, you’re definitely not complaining when it’s a gift from Jaehyun himself.

“Thank you…? Also,” you squint, picking up the ring to slide onto your pointer finger, “this isn’t silver or gold.” He shrugs half heartedly.

“Sucks to suck.”

You kick the tip of his Converse as he laughs with his whole body, the boy’s deep voice filling the small space. 

“It’s from the coin toy machine outside,” he explains. With a broad grin, he pulls his other hand from out of his pocket and waves it in your face. The whole rainbow has found its home on his fingers, all silly swirls and squiggles of nylon with glued on googly-eyes half falling off.

It’s the pure childish elation you share which makes you unknowingly sink deeper and deeper into the ocean that is Jeong Jaehyun, and you would have felt the metaphorical gasps of air your lungs so desperately need if not for the momentary distractions he provides. 

You suppose all of this is your own doing anyway. 

…

It feels as though Autumn has made a reverse pit-stop in the middle of summer. 

If not obvious by the way the seasonal trees are drooping with a sudden dewy chill, it’s the sudden absence of people in general that serves as a telltale sign. There’s almost no cars on the road, fewer students out and about, and less frequent public transportation. 

The last one in particular really speaks to Jaehyun.

Scrunching his nose at the crisp air, he exits the hole-in-the-wall café he usually frequents when he’s bored, the biting coldness of a mid-August day unfamiliar to him. The boy spent almost the entire day inside; switching between staring at the weather app on his computer and deleting emails from his overflowing inbox for two hours wasn’t the way he thought he’d spend the afternoon, but alas, waiting that long at the crumbling bus stop wasn’t ideal either. He much prefers being warm, caffeinated, and pretending to read a scientific journal than freezing his ass off on a metal bench. 

Anyone would think the same, Jaehyun shrugs to himself… at least until he starts nearing said bench.

Jaehyun stops mid-step when he spots something strange, side-eyeing the undeniably familiar blob crouching at the bus stop approaching on the right.

Why? Well, it's swathed in an oversized hoodie, has a keychain-ful backpack hanging low on its shoulders, and is suspiciously Y/N-shaped.

And if that doesn’t tell him anything, well, the way your eyes go comically wide when you turn to the right and coincidentally meet gazes with Jeong Jaehyun of all people definitely does. It’s the way he’s standing there like a runway model with his hood over his head, dimples on full show as he raises his eyebrows at you and his expensive-looking leather bag hanging off of one shoulder that almost causes you to fall over. Luckily, you pull yourself together before something embarrassing happens, like losing your balance and crashing into the road (not that it’s happened before, of course…). You’re well aware that you tend to get distracted easily, and you’re definitely in trouble because that man is one hell of a distraction.

Getting up quickly and dusting the invisible dust off your legs, you offer him an embarrassed wave as he approaches you.

“How long have you been sitting there? It’s fucking cold outside,” Jaehyun calls out, concerned, glancing down at your skirt and the way you hide your hands in your hoodie sleeves. Sidling up next to you, he bounces on the balls of his feet a little before stuffing his own hands in his pockets.

“It’s okay,” you smile down at the way your shoes match next to his on the sidewalk, “I’m used to the bipolar weather. Plus, it’s not that cold when you’ve got these!” Tucking your lip between your teeth, you rustle around in your sweater-paws before popping out your hands proudly in front of you. Nestled in your palms are old hand warmers, their heat fading but worth their purpose nonetheless.

“Only you would have hand warmers in stock during the middle of summer, Y/N,” he shakes his head in disbelief, but the smile threatening to take over his face makes his eyes crinkle up in amusement.

“Mhm,” you say, distracted as you see the bus pull up to the sidewalk from down the road, “I’ve got a whole box in my backpack. Who knows, maybe an ice storm will hit one day and I’ll be the only one with hands while everyone else’s freeze off.” 

He pauses in place, speechless at your comment. You simply shrug at him, as if saying that’s the way life goes, before nodding to the bus driver and climbing up the vehicle’s steps. “Don’t worry, I’d share mine with you.”

Jaehyun lets out a breath in disbelief. 

Your attitude is truly refreshing, and he can’t even begin to describe what a breath of clean air it is to talk to you everyday; he’s used to girls coming up to him with hidden intent, their eyes tinged with lust as they disguise their interest with false pretenses and flowery words. Flattery is what it began with, but after years of receiving nothing from their end while he found himself aimlessly hoping for someone genuine and it was disappointing that he couldn’t find even one. He’d wish they would just treat him normally and act like themselves, a person not afraid to be genuine with him and let their inner child show. 

It’s as he observes the way you hum as you climb up and give a playful salute to the driver that he realizes you’re the perfect balance of both, the maturity in you shining admirably at the times when it is needed while never acting like something you’re not.

Jaehyun blinks at your figure before tugging on your arm to move around you, swiping his bus pass twice before you can even register what’s happened. He lets a smug grin take over his face before pulling you to the back of the bus and plopping down beside you.

“Thank you for paying for me,” you tilt your head at him, tucking your card back into your pocket. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to, though.”

You give him a grateful smile before remembering something that you had meant to show him, pulling out the walkman you found in your grandmother’s cellar yesterday from your backpack, a dusty old thing that still works perfectly fine. Looping its built-in headphones around your neck, you tilt the player towards him before offering him the small device. Turning it around in his hands, he gapes in undeniable awe as he taps the plastic cover with intrigue. 

You knew he’d like it.

“I haven’t seen one of these in so long. Whose grave did you raid to get this, the hell?”

“Found it yesterday in my grandparent's cellar, and before Taeyong got his hands on it. I thought that you’d find it interesting so I was planning on showing you later this week, but hey, look who I happened to run into today.”

He simply shakes his head before bringing the machine up to his eyes and popping open its cover, a finger coming up to trace the dust out of the inside of it.

“Do you have a cassette to put in it or…?” he begins, looking up at you. You shake your head. “We can go to the vintage shop downtown later to get you some, if you want.”

“Really? You’ll go with me?”

“Yeah, Y/N. You’ve always got the coolest things to play around with, and we can go shove this in Yong’s face too. He’s gonna be so jealous.”

“You just wanna annoy my brother,” you snort, nudging his arm.

“You’ve got me there.” He holds up his hands in mock surrender before poking his tongue inside his cheek, eyebrows furrowing in thought. “Or… I could make you a personalized mixtape?” Your jaw drops comically, no words coming out of your mouth as you just stare at him.

“Are you being serious right now?”

“So, so serious.”

“If you did, I would actually lose my mind,” you finally close your mouth in amazement. “You’d probably be my favorite person ever.”

“Well, then that would be well worth it. I’ll work on it when I’m back in the studio at uni,” Jaehyun smiles genuinely, handing you your walkman back before swinging his leather bag back onto his shoulder as the bus pulls to a halt. With a parting pat on your shoulder, he mouths a goodbye before descending the aisle.

“This is my stop. See you at the party, Y/N.”

… 

When you had received the call on a quiet Saturday afternoon from Mark that he and Chaewon would be leaving earlier to help set up for Johnny’s weekend party — the one that Jungwoo and Jaehyun had only told you about just a few days prior — the possibility of not having a ride to bring you hadn’t even struck yet. You were too busy thanking your friends that they had granted you two more hours for an afternoon nap, and an extra 60 minutes to get ready; a truly ideal day in your opinion. 

It’s only when you’ve given yourself a final look in the mirror, admiring the new dress that you’ve donned at the last minute, do you hear the undeniable honk of a car outside. Brushing aside the curtains and trying to get your eyes to focus in the dark, you make a noise of panic when you spy Jaehyun’s car outside your house. 

What’s he doing here?

You'd spent far more time with Jaehyun in the past few days than you have in your entire lifetime, running small errands with him when Taeyong's not there and browsing through retro stores in nearby towns for old cassettes. With every hour more spent together, it felt like you were getting closer to knowing his feelings, and that in itself excited you to no end. He'd end every drive together with a knowing look and some sort of physical touch, and each goodbye left you in anticipation for the next time you'd see him.

Sprinting down the stairs and grabbing your shoes as fast as you can, you rush out into the street where the Mustang’s tinted windows prevent any passerby from making out any faces from the outside. 

As you approach the driver’s side, the window rolls down to reveal the owner of the car. 

“Hey,” Jaehyun grins at you, his pupils dilated and the faint smell of smoke lingering on his breath. 

It feels like forever since you’ve seen him, even if it’s only been a few hours since you last saw each other. You can feel your head fog up when you fully take in his appearance; with his hair slicked back and his button-up undone to reveal sharp collarbones and a dangling, silver cross, he looks godly as the moonlight basks him in a paper-white glow. 

“Chaewon and Mark had to stay later to help set up more and Taeyong’s been pregaming since six, so he sent me to pick you up. You can get in the back.”

You hum in understanding before climbing into the backseat, tucking your hands under your thighs before looking up at the front of the car. 

Your heart drops. 

“Hi,” the girl in the shotgun seat lilts, her bleached hair falling into wavy ringlets against Jaehyun’s leather seats. “Y/N, right? I remember you! You’re Yongie’s baby sis.”

You itch to fill the silence that follows, even though you assume she would have no trouble clearing it with her well-known, extroverted dynamic. There’s an unnamed tension in the car between the two people in the front seat, and it’s so intense that you could cut it with a knife.

You take shallow breaths, not sure what to make of your position. I’m sitting in a car with my crush and his former situationship— holy. How did we get to this point? She’s literally—

“—Lim Sae-mi,” you attempt to give her a genuine smile, flashing your teeth in what you pray isn’t an awkward expression. 

Saemi simply twinkles in the rear view mirror, her delicately painted lips stretching up before she twists around to observe you. 

“You do remember me! Look at how pretty you are too,” she exclaims, reaching back to pat down a strand of your hair, her voice laced with sticky sweetness. “You could be a model, just like Yongie. And your hair is so healthy, I’m jealous. Isn’t her hair so so nice, Jae?”

Jaehyun snaps to attention at the mention of his name, seeming to be in some sort of haze with the way he looks like he’s holding his breath for as long as humanly possible. 

“Yeah.” You find yourself wilting in the slightest at his monotone voice. Looking out the window as he starts driving towards the outskirts of town, you try not to let yourself be too disappointed at the way he loses such distinctive qualities when around the girl sitting next to him. 

Jaehyun freezes up when Saemi turns to him all doe-eyed, flashbacks flitting through his mind of the days when he’d anticipate the moments he’d see her again when they were younger. Strangely enough, the effect that she used to have on him — palpitating heart, nervous ticks, rosy cheeks, uncanny attraction — seems to have dissipated. Now, highschool-Jaehyun seems so far away, and their memories even further.

What’s changed?

“Um,” you start as you watch suburban lights zoom by less and less frequently, your brain working just as fast to eliminate some of the weird, awkward tension happening in the car. You don’t really know enough to make conclusions, but something must have happened in the past for them to react to each other like this. “How’s SNU? Do you guys run into each other often on campus?”

Jaehyun chuckles lowly, a tinge of uncertainty lining his tone as he waits for Saemi to answer your question. 

“Right, you’re going to uni next year right? Hmm… we don’t really see each other on campus at all, now that I think about it,” she simpers, frowning at the road in front of her before brightening up in less than a second. “But that's because Jae’s so busy, preparing to be a future doctor and all. He was always the smartest one out of all of us.”

You watch as he falls silent, knuckles tightening on the steering wheel as his jaw clenches ever so slightly.

“Hey, we should catch up sometime Jae,” she adds on with a tone like she doesn’t really mean it before turning her gaze to him, tacking on a noise of agreement with herself as if she's already decided that they will. 

She knows they won’t.

You watch their eyes meet briefly before Jaehyun breaks it to turn the steering wheel left onto a never-ending stretch of a lone, empty road.

Saemi’s a hard person to figure out. You know that she’s charming when she wants to be and firm when she needs to be, but you also know from Taeyong that she has a personality she can flip on and off like a switch; it’s almost as if mind games with the people around her are amusing, and it’s up to the other person to figure out what her true intentions are. It’s understandable why so many people find her alluring. 

Glancing up at the back of her head once more, you observe as she leans back with a faint frown before swallowing something in her hand that looks like a bottled shot. She looks uncomfortable as she shifts in her seat every few minutes, and you’re not sure if she’s more put off by the alcohol or by Jaehyun. Your guess would be the latter, even if her voice makes it seem like she’s the most confident person in the world.

You don’t even attempt to start another conversation, instead opting to roll down the window so that you can watch empty land flash by, an occasional plant breaking the smooth ground. The car picks up speed on its own with no other vehicle in sight, the only light coming from the rising crescent moon and a solo gas station situated further down the road.

The three of you perk up as you approach the oil refill and the only other car at the station, a big pick-up with dressed-up figures leaning out of its windows and sitting around the back cargo bed. You assume they’re heading to the same place you are with the way they all shout at each other as they pass a dark bottle back and forth. A boy gets out of the driver’s seat to walk over to Jaehyun’s car and lean through Saemi’s side of the window, shades pushed up into his hair and beads and cuban links dangling out of his shirt. You don’t recognize him, but you’re not surprised when Johnny knows just about every young person in the world.

“Jaehyun, man! And Saemi, damn, I haven’t seen you guys in a while. Headed to Johnny’s?” he exclaims with a loud voice and wide smile, reaching in to pat a long-lost friend on the shoulder. Just like that, the extroverted Jaehyun and Saemi are back, conversing with him as if their awkward energy and off demeanors didn’t just dictate the ride over. 

The guy notices you in the back when your eyes meet accidentally, both of you taken aback.

“And who might this be?” He smirks at you, gaze never leaving yours as he directs the question to the other two in the car. You smile back just to be friendly, but with the way he’s staring at you, you’re not sure if that’s the right way to go about things.

“Lee Taeyong’s sister,” Jaehyun speaks up, glimpsing back at you with an unreadable look. A look of recognition flashes over the stranger’s face as his mouth opens in surprise.

“So this is the sister. Shit, is that why I’ve never seen her around?”

“Yeah.” There’s a bitter undertone to his voice, expression faltering before he raises his eyebrows with a smile. “And that’s why she’s off limits, man. I know that look all too well.”

You look at your brother’s friend in question, leaning forward, but Jaehyun doesn’t even glance at you. Both of you know that Taeyong isn’t really the overly protective type, so why would he say that? Maybe he knows that this guy is bad news, so he’s warning me. You nod to yourself, satisfied with your quick thinking. That sounds about right.

You’re about to offer a comment yourself, but you’re stopped by a—

“Lim Saemi! No fucking way, is that really you?” another shrill voice calls from across the expanse of the gas station, a former classmate stalking across the black cement in teetering heels as she waves dramatically at the girl in front of you. “It is you! I can’t believe we ran into you like this, you gotta join the party truck now!”

Saemi seems to recognize her, waving dramatically out the window to her friend. In a matter of seconds, the girl has pulled her out of Jaehyun’s car as she laughs at her friend’s antics of tugging on her wrist to string her along, drunk. Saemi throws you and Jaehyun a look that seems to say everything and nothing at the same time; if you were to interpret it in your own language, it would spell out: So sorry I’m ditching you guys! I love both of you to pieces but I’d honestly rather drink bleach than get back in that car. Hope you understand. Muah.

And with that, you watch Saemi switch cars in a matter of moments. The boy follows them back to their chaotic ride to Johnny’s after waving goodbye at Jaehyun, who’s watching them without any emotion bleeding through his stoic face. You can’t even begin to guess what's going through his mind as his eyes flick back to his dashboard, spaced out.

You pause.

“...and then there were two.”

Biting your bottom lip when you realize you mumbled that out loud, and you’ve genuinely never wanted to be six feet under more because the man hasn’t even said a word since she left you two.

Jaehyun freezes at your voice, almost as if he forgot you were in the car. Letting out an airy laugh after a moment, your shoulders relax when you sense that his weird, Saemi-caused demeanor has faded with her sudden absence.

“Wanna move to the front? It’s lonely up here.” You perk up at his belated response, excitedly getting out of the back to slide into the shotgun seat at his invitation. The man next to you seems to visibly relax, stomach releasing and shoulders drooping with less tension as he starts the car and turns back onto the stretch of empty road. 

The silence doesn’t bother you this time when Saemi’s absent; it’s pleasant and full, as if both of you needed this momentary break from nonstop life to collect yourself. Staring at the dust picking up along the wheels while the needle on the speedometer rises up and up, you find the scene before you therapeutic in unexplainable ways.

Jaehyun feels the same, his eyes spacey as one hand rests languidly on the steering wheel with ingrained muscle memory. The vehicle coasts past blank acres and rolling hills, the burning moon engaging in hide-and-seek as it appears and disappears behind their peaks. He doesn’t even feel the need to turn up the stereo as he usually does when your audible, light breaths are sufficient enough. It’s comforting in ways he didn’t know he needed.

You recognize how close you are to Johnny’s estate when you see the road before you thin into dirt and pebbles, a grandiose silver gate barely visible in the far distance. Behind the gate is the unmistakable gleam of polished stone, no doubt the road that leads up to the party and an onslaught of cars. If you concentrate hard enough, your mind can even conjure up the deep bass of the music that the host prefers at his mixers, their heavy resonance flowing through the thick soil to the bottom of Jaehyun’s car and all the way up to the soles of your feet.

You’re just about to point your strange observance out when Jaehyun makes a sudden swerve, pulling off to an edge of mangled weeds and tree roots, the car rolling to a shuttering stop just before a barren field of dead plants. Your body lurches forward a bit with the movement, the boy apologizing profusely when he sees you adjust your seatbelt with confusion written all over your expression.

“Fuck, sorry sorry sorry,” he mumbles, moving his hand in front of you as if you could fall out of your seat at any minute. “I just… the stars are stunning right now, we gotta stop for a sec. You don’t mind if we…”

He trails off, distracted, as he pulls the car door open hastily, rushing out to take in the night sky in its full glory. It’s as if he doesn’t move fast enough, the stars will pull a disappearing stunt on him.

It’s endearing to see Jaehyun like this, a smile subconsciously finding its way onto your face when you spot him bouncing on the balls of his feet lightly. His eyes are completely enamored with the sight above him, neck craned up at an odd angle to see everything; from the way his fingers dig into his palms in excitement to the cold flush on his cheeks from the biting evening chill, it’s like he doesn’t know what to do with himself when encountering such a beautiful product of mother nature. 

The thought of Johnny’s party evaporates from both of your minds as you find yourself mirroring Jaehyun’s position. 

After a few minutes of stillness, he looks at you with the very stars from the sky in his eyes.

“Can we stay here for a bit?”

He beams at your “of course” before hoisting himself onto the cool hood of his Mustang and offering a hand out for you to grab. Pulling you up onto the spot beside him with a huff, he pulls your wrist to shift your body closer to his before smiling contently to himself. 

You try not to let your mind spiral at his warm touch, instead focusing your attention on the blanket of constellations that greet you from the inky stretch of night sky. The cold metal of the hood cools your burning skin as your legs stretch out in front of you, skin ghastly as your arms support your weight from behind you.

When he hears your faint intake of breath, Jaehyun allows his eyes to leave the pretty view above him to the pretty view beside him for a few seconds, letting them linger on your side profile as you stare up in awe. They fall from the slope of your nose to the open curve of your lips, circling around your neck and raking over the ornate gems decorating your skin. You’re breathtaking in 1001 ways, and it’s such a pressing realization that he blinks away in shock when your gaze suddenly meets his. 

“Do you do this often?”

“When I need to get away for a bit. All of my best ideas come to me at night, I think. There’s just something about darkness and non-artificial light which is curiously inspiring.”

You nod, leaning back on the windshield and resting your head against its glass. Nighttime lets you think in the abstract, where the shadows don’t take shape and remind you to think in a direct and methodical way. 

“I get that,” you empathize. “After Taeyong left, I used to climb onto my roof after dark and just sit there alone for hours. I wouldn’t know how much time had passed until I got back into my room, and to be honest, that was my favorite time of the day. It took my mind off things, even if it was only for a few hours.”

“You know, Yong and I used to do that when we were younger. You were too little to remember I think, but we’d go up after your parents fell asleep and throw basketballs down the side of your house to see how far they would bounce up… we probably hit your window too a few times. Only a few.”

“That was you?” you jut, incredulous.

“Oh, so she does remember,” Jaehyun laughs under his breath, playfully avoiding eye contact when you scoff at your brother and his' antics. “Anyway, I wanna go up there again someday.”

“Our roof? I’ll bring you.”

Jaehyun turns to face you.

“Promise? I’m counting on it, Lee.”

You don’t hide your bashful smile this time, looking away when the boy flashes his dimples at you. Your insides flood with warmth as you secretly bring the back of your hand up to feel your cheek, scared of its betrayal of your feelings. 

Jaehyun sighs, content, after a few moments, his neck lolling at the joint to stargaze once again. He feels entirely relaxed at this moment; there’s nothing that Mother Nature can’t fix. 

“History revolved around looking at the stars and just talking, you know? I wish I could stay here forever and never grow up.” 

You tilt your head curiously.

“Why, you don’t like being an adult?”

“Not that,” he shakes his head. “It’s more of, I pretend to be collected and mature and all-knowing, but the feeling of having no control over life magnifies as I get older. My head and heart haven’t grown up fast enough to catch up.”

“Jaehyun.”

“Hm?”

“You don’t ever have to pretend. It’s… it’s okay to not know what you’re doing or what the future looks like, and it’s okay to let yourself go at times too. Being an adult doesn’t mean always knowing the right things to do or figuring out every little detail right now,” your words stumble a bit as they spill out, but he seems to catch onto every word perfectly. “I’m scared too, so it’s kinda ironic that I’m giving you this advice when I can’t follow it myself.”

“We can trade words of wisdom,” Jaehyun offers more lightheartedly. “It’s so much easier to give advice to other people than to yourself.” You can’t think of a better way to phrase it than that. 

“And I think simply moving forward with what you can muster is the best we can do,” you add on. Jaehyun just stares at you as you talk, chin in his palm as he takes in your advice with sincerity. “Things will just come and go naturally as we go on.”

“You’re right. Time tells, Y/N. And frankly, you’re so much more mature than me.”

“Me?” You frown, surprised at the fact that he thinks you are. “That’s so strange to hear, because I feel like I’ll never be independent in the way that you and Tae are. Even though we’re not that far apart in age, I’ve always thought you guys were from a different galaxy, like fear wasn’t a word in your dictionary and maturity has always just come naturally.”

“It’s all in the way we carry ourselves, but maturity itself doesn’t come from this,” Jaehyun waves his hand around to outline your body in an imaginary circle, “but from this.” You watch as he taps a purposeful finger against your temple. “And you have more of it than anyone my age. You have a mind that people would die for, and I think that’s something to be very proud of.”

The wind whistles soundly as the two of you take in the world with new perspectives, sitting up a little straighter and legs just barely touching as he moves closer without even noticing. You don’t say anything for a while, and you don’t need to. He recognizes how you need a few minutes to let his words soak in, and that’s what makes you so you. Jaehyun knows you won’t just take his words on a whim and forget them ten minutes later; you’re the kind of person that internalizes everything he says with genuine feeling and gratefulness, and that quality is what makes you, in his opinion, celestial. 

“You always know just what to say,” you finally whisper, and he almost doesn’t catch it.

You receive no reply except for the most adoring look in his eyes as he smiles fondly at you. The breeze blows wisps of your hair around your face, and Jaehyun can’t help it when he reaches out to tuck a stray strand behind your ear. His fingers linger — longingly, if you dare say — before he makes himself pull away.

You’re scared to let yourself believe that you might have a chance this time; everything floods back and hits your heart at full power, and you think that your newfound connection you’ve found with the boy over this summer has trumped all of your past memories. Your feelings are fragile, and the way he looks at you is terrifying. He makes your heart race violently; your feelings from when you were fifteen don’t even compare.

“It’s too chilly for a summer month,” he speaks up suddenly, rubbing his arms and trying to lighten the mood. You shake your mind out of its storm of complicated emotions before offering a small smile back.

“Always speaking the truth, aren’t you?” You tease, playing with the hem of your short dress. Jaehyun makes a noise of agreement before a boyish grin stretches across his face. 

“Yeah, which is why Leonardo DiCaprio is not—”

“—UH,” You stop him mid sentence, shushing him. “Let’s not finish that sentence.”

“—peak acting which is why—”

“La la la lala,” you sing, covering your ears with your hands childishly and squinting so that you don’t have to see Jaehyun raising an eyebrow at you, amused. “I can’t hear youu.”

“I take back the part about you being more mature than me.” Only one boy is capable of making your moods flip like this, and he’s sitting right next to you as your laughs ring out in tandem through the night. 

Eventually, after a few more back-and-forths under the dark sky, Jaehyun takes it upon himself to teach you some astronomical terms. You doubt you’ll remember them, but he promises he’ll make it easy for you to hold in your mental library.

“You need to be prepared,” he stresses, “if you’re gonna come with me next time.”

“Next time… stargazing?”

“Yup,” he answers matter-of-factly. “Let’s see… there’s a triangle of importance in my opinion. The true triune, holy grail of astronomy.”

You watch him sink into his element, musing upon the milky way above.

“Stars,” he air-traces the Orion constellation slowly. “Moons,” he continues, moving his arm in front of you to point at the claw of the silver crescent moon. Jaehyun lets his hand fall, the tip of his finger grazing your skin in the slightest as it hovers in front of your heart. “And celestial bodies.” 

…

You mentally prepare yourself to get an earful from Chaewon as the drive up to Johnny’s resumes…

…two hours late.

In your defense, it wasn’t completely your fault. Jaehyun says you can blame it on him when she throws her fit at you being late — and boy, do you know she will — but you also know that when you recount what happened to cause your tardiness, she’ll excuse it. Partially. Maybe even throw in a sushi dinner and smoke sesh, then all of your sins would be forgiven in her book.

You try to distract yourself from Jaehyun’s sweet actions just a few minutes earlier by thinking about where you might find Chaewon and Mark when you get there; maybe the drink-stocked kitchen, where Mark will surely be… or outside, where people like Chaewon usually go with their ziploc bags and scratched-up lighters.

Where would Jaehyun go?

You groan inwardly when you catch your brain drifting to the idea of the man next to you once again, said man driving with a dopey expression on his face as Johnny’s estate comes into full view. You can’t tell if it’s because of a well-needed down-time with the stars (and time with you, if you dare to think optimistically) or because it looks like there’s strobe lights flashing out of every window of the ground floor—

“—holy shit, they really went all out,” Jaehyun gapes, hands slacking on the steering wheel as you both take in the scene before you. “Johnny’s fucking insane. Maybe even like, should-be-checked-into-a-facility insane.”

Your eyes widen as the building unfurls itself before you, a mansion so grand that it’s comparable to Gatsby’s in every way. It’s got a certain vintage charm to it, something you assume Johnny’s parents built in homage to their roots with veiny, marbled stairs and towering Roman columns. The chaos that’s happening in and around the home itself, however, is a different story. You can see the drunk bodies already as they move around to invisible music, and waves of people climb spiral staircases up to the upper levels as they fumble drinks around. Silhouettes of the party-goers are littered across the vast, arched windows, stone trims decorating their sills with impeccable detail; the estate is truly a needle that shines brilliantly in a haystack of country homes, the nearest house being a whole 20 minute drive away. You’d been to his countryside home only once with Taeyong when you were younger, but seeing it in all its glory during the nighttime is a whole different experience.

“Nah,” you grin when he puts the car into park behind a train of assorted automobiles that cover the driveway. “He's that special kind of chaebol-insane. I propose not eating the rich, because what would the world be without Johnny Suh.”

Jaehyun simply chuckles lightly before getting out of the car and walking around to your side, opening the door before helping you out. You’d be lying if you said that the butterflies in your stomach didn’t just seize at his actions.

But nothing good lasts forever.

Just as soon as the butterflies come, they die off when you notice the immediate, uncanny switch in Jaehyun’s disposition.

You’re not sure if it’s the deafening bass-boosted music flooding into the air or the multitude of bodies in front of the house alone as the two of you approach the open door, but he seems to be pushed into a different element the closer you get. You recognize it as the one that you’d only heard of in high school, the one who frequented house parties on school nights with your brother, the one who shone in a room full of people, the infamous heartbreaker Jaehyun.

You can see the shift in his eyes, the way his pupils dilate slowly as they gain that undeniable gleam. You can feel his muscles lose a tension you didn’t even know was there, especially when he swings his arm around your shoulders casually, letting his hand rest against your collarbone. You can hear the calls of his wicked name already from both females and males alike, their shouts pulling him away from you as multiple people are drawn to him right away.

You recognize a few of them, hometown names that make their presence known as they clap Jaehyun on the back and reach out for intoxicated hugs. It’s also now that you realize the sheer amount that the boy you practically grew up with — the very one who spent his school day afternoons playing in your living room — changes when with other people. His popularity was never a mystery to you, but seeing it in person like this… he acts like he’s finally at home. A true socialite who flourishes when surrounded by people.

And you would never hold that against anyone, except until—

“Hey, Y/N, I’ll catch up with you later, okay? Promise.”

Ah.

His voice rings out flippant and unfamiliar, arm slipping from your shoulders like deadweight, and his fingers don’t linger on your skin longingly this time. Without looking back, he’s swept away by a myriad of high school friends as they drag him off to only God knows where. They hand him drinks and jostle around with each other between heated bodies, his silver rings glinting under the lights as he throws his head back for a bitter shot.

You watch as their forms retreat into the depths of the party until the shadows swallow him up and your eyes can’t follow him anymore. 

Left to hover awkwardly by yourself at the door of Johnny’s house with no drink in hand and a bewildered twist in your expression, suddenly, all the moments that have led up to now feel like a fever dream. Everything just happened so fast. One minute he’s next to you, and you’re sure you’ve fallen again. Hard. And the next moment he’s gone with the wind, like a figment of a dream flickering in and out of consciousness. Sure, you hadn’t expected to spend the whole night with him, but you thought that after your many little talks he would want to stay with you a little longer than three seconds.

At least he promised to find you later, but you’re still left feeling unsure about where you stand with him in contrast to the bubbling feeling of affection you had felt earlier in the night. The way he acts is giving you emotional whiplash.

I have to find Chaewon and Mark, you think to yourself suddenly, trying to shake your head of Jaehyun-related thoughts. The way he’s plagued your thoughts far too many times these past few months terrifies you, and it feels like you’ve lost your mind for real this time. You’re charged with a new determination to not think about the boy until he comes back to you himself. It’s not worth ruining your night over maybe’s.

Weaving through sweaty figures and waving instinctually at the people who happen to recognize you, you find yourself in a sort of trance as you strain to catch a glimpse of one of your friends. The bass-boosted music fills your ears with a heavy buzz as you make your way through what feels like hundreds of people.

A cold hand abruptly reaches out to grasp your wrist when you approach the closed off kitchen, causing you to cautiously glance back at its owner with your other arm ready to push them off.

“Babe, what are you doing here all alone?”

You jump slightly before giving him a childish slap on his arm as a grinning Mark reaches out to embrace you, and the strong smell of twisted tea pungent on his breath. His hand comes up to tuck your head into his neck familiarly, an old habit from when you were young that tends to come out in his drunk endeavors.

“You scared me,” you mumble into his shirt, voice muffled by the fabric. “I was trying to find you, but there’s literally thirty million people in this damn house.”

Feigning hurt, Mark pulls away to put a hand to his heart. “You can’t recognize me from a house away?” His sarcasm makes you squint at him, your hand reaching out to tug him along with you.

“No, Mark. I actually can’t recognize you from a house away,” you bite back, mumbling an extra, “surprisingly too, because I could probably hear your loud-ass laugh from another country if I really wanted to.”

“Literally shut up.”

“Never. Come find Chaewon with me?”

“I-” Mark sighs, giving in to your pleading eyes. What can he say, he has a self-destructive soft spot for his best friend. “Fine. But only if you get her to play one of the drinking games with me, ‘cause you never want to,” he tsks. You offer him an innocent smile before turning towards the back balcony. Gripping Mark’s arm tightly as the two of you make your way through clusters of people, you glance back every so often to make sure he’s still with you. You don’t want to be left alone again.

Again. Like Jaehyun just did when he said he wanted to spend time with me…

He seems to sense your uneasiness when you pause for a moment to look down, the fluorescent lights that lead to the back glass doors making your eyes sting as your fingers tighten their grip on his wrist. 

“Hey hey hey,” the boy pauses to move in front of you with worry creasing his brows. “You good?”

You blink away from him, mumbling an unsure “yeah,” before clearing your throat. “Yeah, I’m okay. Just got dizzy for a sec.”

Mark puts his hands on your shoulders carefully, eyes scanning the way your face looks more apprehensive than usual and your head isn’t held just as high as the Y/N he knows would. He’s had almost his entire life to study your moods and the rises and falls of your expressions, and he knows that something heavy is bothering you to the point where you’re letting him see it bleed through your normal, carefree facade. It’s something serious, and he also knows you’re not gonna tell him until you’re ready.

So for now, he simply smooths down any invisible tensions in your arms and straightens your posture for you like he would in your younger school days, gentle and nimble fingers adjusting the straps of your dress like a parent figure would. 

“I like this number on you. You should wear it more often.” 

“Thank you,” you smile gratefully at him, forcing your feet to move forward once again. It's not unusual for Mark to compliment you, but it feels particularly comforting tonight after so much of your confidence in yourself has been built up and torn down in a matter of hours.

You don’t let your gaze take in anyone except a potential Chaewon as the two of you finally make it outside, scared of potentially seeing someone you don’t want to see. Out of the corner of your eye, Mark gestures animatedly to the lit up garden, far fewer people mingling in its flowering, winding paths than inside. 

“Oh! Chaewon’s right there,” he pushes you lightly in her direction, a poised figure leaning, relaxed, on one of the ivy-slinked marble balconies. “I’m not gonna go far, but I’ll get some drinks from the kitchen for us and be right back, okay? I won’t leave you guys for long.” You’re silent for a moment.

“I’m sorry.” 

“Why are you sorry, Y/N? You’ve done nothing wrong, but whoever or whatever’s bothering you should feel ashamed for making you apologize for nothing,” he chastises immediately, indignant towards the fact he has an inkling of who’s made you feel this way. It pains him to see his best friend hurt silently.

You nod before he gives you one last pat and nudges you in the direction of Chaewon. She turns on her heel just as Mark leaves, face lighting up when she spots your form heading in her direction.

“Took you long enough!” She calls out over with a hand reaching out for you, her other occupied by a flute of some mysterious fizzy liquid. “I’ve been waiting so that we can try the colorful shots in Johnny’s fridge together. I know you secretly like those.”

You snap yourself out of your thoughts before managing a grateful smile as she pulls you into a side hug. “Sorry, the uh… drive took longer than anticipated,” you mumble, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. 

“Who’d you come with again? I feel so bad that we couldn’t pick you up, but the setup literally took the living energy out of me.”

You bite your lip nervously, eyes flicking to the night sky in reassurance.

“I came with— I came with Jaehyun,” you spit out quietly, already predicting her reaction in your head. 

“Damn, for real? I told your brother to call one of your other friends, but this is so much better. Did you guys get time to talk or what?” Chaewon lifts her drink to her lips as she waits with wide eyes, anticipating an answer that you know you can’t give her. If anyone has always rooted for the possibility of him liking you back, it’s her. 

“I don’t know,” you finally whisper, giving up as you tug your fingers through your hair. “It’s just… he’s a confusing person. Like yeah, we talked, but I can’t figure him out at all. He goes back and forth from being the closest I’ve ever felt to a boy to an almost distant stranger in a matter of seconds.”

Your friend’s face falls at your words, clearly noting how much you’re beginning to get stressed out over him. It kills her to see anything but a smile on your face, and the fact that it’s because of someone who you’ve pined over for so long is detrimental to watch. 

“Y/N…” 

“It’s fine. I’m making a big deal out of nothing, probably.” Your voice cracks slightly in the middle of the sentence, but you mask it with a quiet laugh. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a real chance with him to begin with, so try not to expect much.” Chaewon’s bitter smile reflects her inner confliction as she reaches out to take your hand in hers.

“Stop, don’t think like that,” she mutters. 

“But don’t worry, there’s still,” you whisper, putting your pointer finger and thumb up to approximate the size of the tiny moon in the sky above you, “a little hope. There’s always been.”

You nod to yourself, almost like a subtle reassurance. You’ve always had faith and confidence in your own feelings, and a little hope has never killed you. If anything, it’s brought you closer to Jaehyun than you’ve ever been, and getting to know him in ways that you were never able to has been a silver lining in itself. Just maybe… deep down, not in the way you know you wish you had.

“I love how you’re always been so sure of what you want,” Chaewon confesses. It’s both a blessing and a curse. “But tonight’s about having fun, okay? No use wasting time on a boy that can’t get his own shit straight.”

With a giggle, she pulls you towards the house once again. “I want to see you get wasted. His name is not allowed as far as I’m concerned.”

“Jaehyun’s name…?” 

“Who?”

You shake your head with a smile as she feigns confusion with an innocent expression. I don’t deserve my friends, you think to yourself, heart warming at how much they try to make you feel better.

“Come on, Y/N. Look around at all the people,” she laughs out in the tone of a true socialite as she tugs you towards where most of the partygoers are congregated, littered across every corner with their short dresses and sweaty skin. Noticing that your mouth is still tinged with a hint of apprehensiveness, she stops in her tracks and turns to you. “You’re telling me that you’re gonna let him do this to you? This night is for us, not waiting for a stupid boy that’s had the chance of a decade to love on you, pretty girl.”

She fiddles with your dress and smoothing down its invisible wrinkles as you nod along with her, mind willing itself to focus on yourself and your friends instead of—

Right. He doesn’t exist right now.

“And you look so good right now that anyone would be stupid not to feel lucky for having your attention,” she affirms, shiny hair tumbling under fluorescent lights as she beams at you. You can’t help but wrap your arms around her, the comfort of her mere presence and consoling words making your heart burn. 

“Love you, Chae. I think we should just date instead,” you mumble into her shoulder, her signature, bright laughter ringing out at your words. 

Her eyes brighten even more when she spots Mark appearing back behind you with entire bottles of liquor in his hands.

“Where the hell did you get those, my god,” she ooh and aah’s at him as your face lights up at the appearance of the boy.

“Johnny’s hidden stash in one of the guest bedrooms. He thinks he’s slick,” he snorts, putting a finger up in a shushing motion when Chaewon gasps dramatically. When you giggle at your best friend’s antics, he turns to look at you with a hint of worry on his face. 

You seem to have cheered up a bit since he left you to get drinks, but he also knows how good at hiding your true feelings you are. From poker faces to fake laughs, you’ve got it all under your belt. He just wishes you would just let go sometimes, but it’s understandable when he thinks about you as a person. It’s simply in your nature to be selfless, and ever since the two of you were young, you’ve never been one to bother anyone with your own worries. No wonder he’s worried as you crinkle your eyes in elation at him, a complete 180 from five minutes ago.

Glancing at Chaewon, she nods at him discreetly, seemingly having a conversation with just their eyes. You’re okay now.

Letting out a short breath of relief, Mark loops his arm with yours before pulling you into the lion’s den of a party haven. 

“Let’s get fucked up, hmm?”

…

You don’t know how much time has passed as you trudge through the garden with your heels in one hand, Chaewon’s fingers laced with yours in the other. 

You’re sure it’s been at least three hours since you arrived. No, two. Maybe four?

To be honest, time isn’t even a concept in your book as you swing your arm with your friend’s, a drunken-dopey smile on your face as you relish the feeling of the dirt and grass against your bare skin. 

Maybe you would’ve known when Mark had handed you the first shot, eyes flicking absentmindedly to the mounted clock in Johnny’s spacious living room — but you hadn’t cared enough then to figure out the numbers and read the time properly. In fact, you don’t think you were even thinking about anything except getting a bit of alcohol in your system. Forgetting was the first thing on your mind.

And boy, did everything spiral from there.

You recall vague bits here and there, from getting too close with familiar faces to being handed funky glasses with sparkly liquids. It was all a blur of overdue laughter and shots after shots, and you have to admit, completely letting loose for the first time in a while felt numbing in the most beautiful way.

You remember Mark drunkenly laying his head down in your lap at one point, tapping the hard liquor in your solo cup and mumbling a happy, “water fountain?” up at you. You weren’t seeing double just yet, but you certainly weren’t thinking straight enough either to comprehend his words fully. So, with absolutely no hesitation and a tipsy giggle, you poured the rest of the contents in your cup into his open mouth as carefully as you could (read: not careful at all). He had sat up with a cheeky smile, wiping the surprisingly dark, bloodred liquid from his bottom lip before it dribbled down and stained his skin.

Everything after that moment felt muggy, like a heavy blanket was wrapped around your head and knotted twice around your neck. You suppose that the alcohol added up at some point, pushing you past the point of clarity.

And suddenly now, you’re here. In the grass with Chaewon, doing only God knows what in a freezing night chill with your short dress and absence of a cozy summer jacket. You don’t even know how you got outside in the first place.

The cold air is good for you, however, as you can feel the blurriness start to fade away bit by bit. You’re not stumbling around as much anymore, but your grip on your friend’s hand is as tight as ever as you make your way through pretty flower bushes and onto a stone path.

“Oh no, someone dropped their phone,” Chaewon laments with exaggerated sadness — no doubt the alcohol talking — before leaning down to pick up the shiny device. Dusting it off with her fingers, she traces a frowny face into its glass, causing it to suddenly turn on.

“Jesus,” you squint into its blinding screen, mentally cursing the person who had the brightness turned all the way up and causing tiny white dots to appear in your vision. “What time is it?”

“You have eyes, look yourself,” Chaewon turns her head towards you dramatically, words slightly slurred as she throws you an unimpressed look. “But it’s 2:43 am. I can’t believe we’re still conscious.”

You groan, rubbing lightly at your eye before she’s talking again, swaying slightly as she speaks. Letting your gaze wander, you let yourself linger on the few people either passed out on messy lawn chairs or calling their friends for late night rides. Some are standing around like you and Chae, heads hanging down and clearly not in their best condition. There’s people with their arms thrown over the shoulders of their friends too, providing obvious support for their less coherent counterparts.

A couple half hidden behind the edge of the balcony catches your eye, your muggy mind inwardly gushing at how cute they are. You want a relationship like that. Their figures are hidden by the shadows of the house, but you can still see how the boy holds her forearm with care as he leans against the stones with her, head tilted impossibly close to the girl’s to display his full attention on whatever she’s telling him through her hushed whispers. 

“—it’s okay ‘cause we’re sleeping over at Johnny’s tonight anyway. And, he has like a thousand guest bedrooms so we can choose any one of them—”

The couple lean into the wall more, the light repositioning as they shift their bodies closer, obviously very comfortable with each other. The girl moves further into the light, shiny hair catching onto the glow as she turns in place. He chases her movements, following her into the beam of the balcony lights as their faces are lit up under the sudden absence of shade.

You breathe out.

No way.

“—and I’ve always wanted to stay at Johnny’s and experience that rich kid life, you know? I wonder what it’s like to—”

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck.

You think that your heartbeat physically stops as you take in the scene before you. Like a thin arrow slicing right through the flesh and tissue of your heart, and it’s violently humbling. Bruising, even.

Stop.

There’s Saemi. And there’s Jeong Jaehyun too in all his glory, looking at her with the stars glittering in his eyes as she tilts her head up towards him.

Your mind goes blank.

“Hey, Y/N, I’ll catch up with you later, okay? Promise.”

That was what, four hours ago?

Ha.

You sober up immediately, like your head has just just been ruthlessly plunged into a bucket of ice cold water. Like God himself is telling you to face the fucking music and come back down to reality. And if you concentrate hard enough, you can even hear your soul shattering, its pieces clattering down and settling at the bottom of your stomach because you actually feel like you might throw up.

I should’ve known, is the phrase that repeats like a mantra in your head, manically getting louder and louder as you blink in pain. Your eyes refuse to leave them for some reason, watching the way his hand comes up to rest on the junction between her neck and shoulder with a delicate touch.

A bitter taste floods your mouth. You feel like you’re playing a one-sided game of push and pull, and it’s worn you out; it’s not disappointment, or even jealousy that fills your body, but fatigue. It’s tiring to let yourself hope, and then get let down time after time and you feel stupid. Disgusted at yourself, even, for attempting to appeal to a boy who had never given you the time of day in the past even though everyone was aware of how blatantly obvious your crush on him was.

You’ve always prided yourself on how true to your own character you are, but in this moment, you feel like a child watching real adults in the real world. Two years' age difference isn’t much in retrospect, but at this moment, Lim Saemi seems like a whole generation above you. Her maturity shines through every part of her — from her gait to the way she dresses to the way she leans into Jaehyun — and you can’t help but let your worst insecurity get to you as they get impossibly closer.

It hurts, because he’s not even mine.

“Y/N, are you listening?”

You don’t answer.

And when the soft plush of his lips come down to place a gentle kiss against her forehead, you decide that you’ve seen enough.

…

Your mouth feels like paper, your head feels like it’s about to split open, and you feel like shit.

Blearily blinking one eye open and then immediately shutting it after getting a glimpse of an unfamiliar ceiling, you groan out loud before stuffing your face into your arm.

Somehow, the little bit of willpower left in you forces your body to get off of the bed you’re on, stumble through the darkness (you think you accidentally trip over a stray body on the ground too), and feel your way to the hallway. Your brain has completely shut off, but you’re also fucking parched and nothing will get in the way of you and water right now.

Your feet miraculously lead you to the empty expanse of Johnny’s kitchen, little sunlight reaching its pristine tiles at such an early hour. Glancing at the red clock numbers on the oven, you blanch when it displays a mocking 6:04am. You’re lucky that your hangovers don’t hit too hard. Pouring yourself a glass of water, you can finally swallow and lean back against the counter in relief as you take a deep breath.

And that’s when it hits you. That’s when everything hits you.

You almost choke on your water as your mind pulls last night from the depths of its sleepiness, from the drinking to the unwanted feelings to the sensation of blacking out. You remember it all.

Taeyong taking a body shot in front of you (scarred). Johnny making out with one of your close school friends in front of you (scarred x2). Mark handing you drink after drink. Chaewon leading you into the garden for fresh air. And… and seeing the boy you like with a girl you thought he had nothing to do with anymore.

Like a floodgate of torturous memories, your mind automatically replays every little interaction without warning as you throw your head back against a cabinet in regret. It’s as if you have no control over what you get reminded of and what you don’t, because of course, the first thing that flashes before you is the feeling you felt when you saw Jeong Jaehyun in the courtyard. 

His arm wrapped around the shoulder of Saemi’s as your best friend desperately vied for your attention, the girl finally following your line of sight to eventually see the scene you were watching in chilling silence. And Chaewon had noticed it all, from the way he smiled down at her to the very moment he looked up in your direction.

“Y/N…” she had whispered, the pity clear in her tone. You’d turned your head away quickly, not wanting her to see the tears gathering on your lash-line, but she couldn’t help but notice the way you reached up to wipe them away. Your body had gone into autodrive, quickly moving to the side to get away from the two as fast as you could. Chaewon reached out for you before turning back to glare at Jaehyun, surprised to see him already staring right at you.

He seemed unfairly distraught and guilty in her eyes, his gaze conflicted as his hands fell from Saemi’s face in a flash and hovered in the air in shock. A few seconds later and he snapped out of it, leaving her standing alone and rushing over in your direction, seemingly trying to reach you before you got lost in the mass of people inside the mansion. 

As he passed Chaewon’s lingering form, her hand flew out to latch onto his shoulder. 

Shaking her head at him — as if saying, you lost your chance ages ago — it was then that she truly felt awful about the inner turmoil her best friend was constantly subjected to when liking a boy like that. 

Wincing, you press a cheek to the cold marble countertop of the kitchen as all of your thoughts flitter through your consciousness at once. You wish the dull throbbing in your head would stop, and even thinking about it makes you shift uncomfortably in place, itching to just get outside and clear your mind with fresh air.

Fuck it, you decide, no one’s awake anyway. I need to get away, even if it's only for a few moments.

Pushing your hair out of your face, you finish your water before heading out. There’s an unusual smell of artificial roses as you move through the hallways and descend the grand staircase; it’s eerie to walk in a silent house, all of the hallways dark and stoic. Johnny’s mansion looks like a mini natural disaster with the way decorations and bottles are strewn across its marble floors, almost like savages making use of a castle. It’s like a presentation of physical evidence of what took place last night.

Finally making it outside into the crisp morning air, you relish in the chirping of the songbirds and empty expanse of a dew-tipped garden. Taking a deep breath, you shiver slightly before heading down a small hill behind the garden. You recall there being a lake behind the property that Taeyong and Johnny used to bring you to when you were younger, one with a small dock that retreated far enough into the water that you could be alone without having the urge to constantly look towards the house again.

You don’t expect anyone to be awake — or even outside — this early, but it comes as a surprise when you almost trip over a figure sitting on the bottom-most stone step. Putting a hand to your heart, your eyes widen as they turn to look up at you.

“Oh… hi. I didn’t expect anyone would be awake this early.”

“Yeah, I just needed some fresh air,” you say, nervously playing with the hem of your shirt. “So I’m going down to the dock…”

“Ah. I see… um. You- you wouldn’t mind if I joined you, right?”

…

Life is funny sometimes.

As you swing your legs gently above the light waves, you can’t help but think about the irony of the situation you’re in. You bite your lip before turning to the person next to you, their knees pulled up to their chest as they stare out into the water. 

“Saemi…”

The girl turns to you, a hesitant smile on her face as she reaches out for your hand.

Lim Saemi takes your fingers between hers before letting out a deep sigh, the talkative persona she normally holds, gone, as she looks between each of your eyes. The hesitance between the two of you is awkward in a way. You’ve never had a full conversation with her and you’ve always assumed things about her based off of others’ recountings, but she couldn’t be more different now. 

The little imaginary devil on your shoulder shakes her pitchfork at you, as if saying, “you should be hating her, remember?” 

You look down to hide your slight frown.

“I think we have a lot to talk about,” she starts, voice tentative and slow as she purses her lips in contemplation. You still. Nodding your head, you let her move closer to you on the wooden planks of the dock before she makes eye contact with you again.

“You know, sometimes it scares me how alike you and Taeyong look. It’s like staring into a mirror image, and I feel like I see memories in you that I associate with your brother.” 

You cock your head at her words. “...we’re pretty similar people too, I think,” you whisper back, an automatic smile reaching your face as your mind finds its own way to him.

“I think so too,” she grins. “Actually, Taeyong and I have been friends for a long time, and he’s always speaked of you so fondly that I couldn’t help but anticipate meeting you. I would see glimpses of you here and there, and he would constantly mention his baby sister and how much he worried about her. He was the best older brother, and anyone could see it.” She pauses, taking in a deep breath. “Yet he treats his friends the very same way, with the same adoration and care. It doesn’t matter how much Taeyong will grow in the future with his escalating popularity and growing talent in music, he’ll always have the kindest soul in my eyes. I’m genuinely so thankful for him, Y/N.”

To hear someone speak about your brother like that triggers an emotion in you that you didn’t even know you had, gaze curious as you wait for her to continue.

“I don’t really know how to start this conversation to be honest, but- I bet you know how hard high school is.” You nod, grimacing at all of the particular more negative memories you have. “You’re balancing on that fine line between feeling too adult to be in school and feeling too childish to live your own life yet, and I, for one, most definitely didn’t know how to deal with such a sudden change in my social and academic surroundings. I think I changed physically a lot then, too. My face, my body, everything. I started morphing into someone that I couldn’t recognize in the mirror, and I came to the realization that boys liked me first for my appearance, not my personality. And… and you know what I regret the most? I learned how to use my body as a weapon.”

“I learned how to change the way I talk, how to talk to boys so that I could get them to do what I want, and suddenly, everything changed even faster. People flocked to me, which is what I had always secretly wanted, but the person that they wanted wasn’t me. I had flown a bit too close to the sun and now I was stuck with this facade that I couldn’t get rid of. It was never just ‘Saemi,’ I was always simply the object of their desires, something to be acquired. And I had brought it upon myself.”

Recalling the Saemi you knew and recognized in high school, you have a bit more of an understanding of her now. She held up a front in order to protect herself, and as a result, she lost touch with her own self. Your heart hurts for her as you hesitate to reach out and offer comfort. 

“Your brother was the first one who understood me right away. We met in detention during our second to last year, and he saw right through me in the first ten minutes. Sat me down in the teacher’s empty chair and told me that I was a bitch for breaking one of his friend’s hearts.” She closes her eyes as she recalls that very afternoon. “Taeyong gave it to me plain and straight that day: I shouldn’t have promised false love to so many boys if I wasn’t planning to give it in the first place. Your brother may have been a player too, but the boundaries he always set with his girls made him a thousand times better than I was.”

You place your hand on hers, Saemi giving you a grateful smile in return. 

“I thought hard about myself and my decisions after that, and I decided that if I wanted to enjoy the last years of my secondary schooling, I needed to take back control of my own actions. After I apologized to his friend, he offered me genuine friendship in the weeks following, one without the jealousy and lust that I was always caught up in before. I had always been surrounded with so much toxicity, and he was able to pull me out of it so easily that I finally felt seen for the first time.” 

She pauses, glancing at you briefly before staring up at the sky. 

“That was also… the first time I met Jaehyun.”

You shift, staring down at your shoe laces as they sway lightly with the wind. 

Ah, you smile sadly to yourself. We’ve gotten to this part of the story.

“Your brother brought me along with him one day to one of his parties, and I had truly never been enamored with a boy that quickly before.”

You can tell that Saemi’s choosing her words carefully with you, and they hit a lot harder when you relate to what she’s saying. You’re certainly no stranger to his charm.

“We started talking that night and Jaehyun had somehow broken down all of the walls I had carefully built up within the first month of knowing each other. It was new for me. My personal mantra had always followed the lines of, ‘if they like what they see and feel, I might as well use it to my advantage.’ But it was different with him. I didn’t want us to be a one time thing, and I certainly did not want him to think of me as something who couldn’t do that kind of serious relationship shit. I wanted him to like me so badly without thinking about if I had genuine feelings towards him in the first place.”

She takes another deep breath, as if she’s collecting her thoughts, before leaning forward with an airy laugh and sadness clear in her eyes. 

“Have you ever mistaken love for dependency, Y/N?” 

Have you? 

You think back to all the people you’ve liked throughout your teenage years, ranging from hallway crushes to… well- Jaehyun. Your pupils dart to the water as you think about the idea of depending on a person. Do I depend on the people I like, or do I know when to distance myself?

You shake your head. 

“Jaehyun and I… we jumped into everything too quickly. It wasn’t even a right person, wrong time situation; we simply weren’t ready. We tried putting our all into this lone spark that we felt without stepping back and really looking at our relationship.” She stops to observe the rising sun above the lake, its golden reflection casting a healthy glow on her skin. Saemi’s beautiful like this, her feelings bare and raw before you as she lays out her emotions so vulnerably. 

“I guess I never really loved Jaehyun in the way he loved me. He was looking for something tender and real, and younger me was not in the capacity to give that to him. I tried to convince myself every single fucking day that I liked him in that way, but even I knew deep down that my I would never convince myself. I still had this lingering, detrimental mentality of seeing boys as something I could win over, and my fascination with him intertwined with that in ugly ways.”

Saemi’s face falls a little before she takes both of your hands in hers, eyes sincere as she peers at you. 

“The reason I’m telling you all this is because… I saw you,” she whispers carefully, watching your reaction. “Last night. When Jaehyun and I were together in the garden… I saw you watching before you walked away.”

Your heart drops as you look down at her hands holding yours so carefully, her pretty fingers encompassing your wrist as you unwillingly recall the worst emotions you had felt in a while. 

She saw. 

You only manage to get out a small, “oh,” before she squeezes your hand reassuringly. 

“Hey hey hey, look at me,” she leans down slightly to put herself at eye level with you. The edges of her lips quirk up in the slightest, her hair falling elegantly against her face as the wind picks it up and puts it back down again. “I don’t want you to misunderstand. Why? Because all those years ago, Jaehyun misunderstood, and I misunderstood, and it was all of these assumptions and forced feelings that drove our relationship to its grave. We were shit at communicating with each other properly, and that eventually hurt both of us too deeply to heal the right way.”

You nod at her hesitantly, taking in what she’s saying with a newfound understanding. Saemi sighs before smiling again at you. 

“I’ve hurt a lot of people in the past,” she says, forlorn, her eyes crinkled as she sniffs in the cold of the morning. “And I never got the chance to apologize to them properly. But last night, I finally worked up the confidence to revisit our high school days with Jaehyun.” She stops, leaning back onto the dock with her hands behind her. Her eyes close as she soaks in the morning sun, and you can’t help but mirror the position as your heart warms for her. “We finally got our much needed closure last night, and I was feeling a bit down afterwards so he was simply comforting me. And I won’t weigh you down with all the nitty gritty details, but we were able to see our ending all the way through without letting our emotions get in the way.”

You can’t help but reach out and hug the girl, your arms wrapping comfortably around her shoulders to express your awe and gratitude. With a little noise of surprise, Saemi pauses for a few seconds before embracing you back. Everything makes more sense now, and you can’t help but feel a little ashamed for jumping to conclusions so easily. 

“I’m so grateful that you shared all that with me,” you mumble into her shirt, her chuckle ringing out into the lake as she rubs your back like an older sister would. 

“Of course. If anyone deserved to hear all of this, it would be you.”

“Why?”

Saemi snorts, pulling back from your hug before lifting an eyebrow at you. 

“Oh please, Y/N, you should see Jaehyun from everyone else’s eyes. We can all see the way he looks at you.” Your mouth drops open slightly, tilting your head in confusion. 

“He looks at me a certain way?”

“God, I have never met two more stupid people in my lifetime,” she groans, bringing her fingers up to her temple. “And I say this lovingly, of course.”

With a fond look on her face, she nudges your shoulder. “But I’m really glad Jaehyun has someone like you.”

You bashfully look down at the water, a rosy blush creeping up your cheeks at her words. You were never 100% sure of where you stood with him, but that familiar feeling of hope has started to creep up once again. Could I go through that again, though? That same push and pull?

Seeming to sense your sudden aversion, Saemi loops her arm through yours in one smooth motion and sets your hand in her lap.

“Hey. Promise me you’ll go talk to him?”

You hesitate to reply, mouth dry as you think about everything she’s poured out to you. You think about your own feelings, and you think about the possibility of having something more with Jaehyun. You think about his history with Saemi, and how this issue of communication has ruined your confidence so many times. But what is it all worth if you don’t try?

With a slow nod, you offer her a reassuring smile before dusting off your clothes and standing up. “Promise.”

Saemi grins at you.

“That’s my girl.”

“Jaehyun?” she asks, putting a hand out on his arm as he looks behind her, distressed. She’s never seen him like this, a nervous jitter in his hands as his eyes dart around at the scene behind them.

Turning around, she just manages to catch a glimpse of a girl rushing towards the back of the house, her head downturned but not masking the obvious face of discomfort in her features. Her friend turns around to glare at them before following close after.

“Fuck,” he breathes out, chewing on his lip as he hesitates to run after your escaping form. “I fucked up so bad, Saemi.” Running a hand through his hair in frustration, he lets out a noise of exasperation as he watches you get farther and farther away. 

“What?”

“She’s leaving, Saemi. What do I do, what do I do,” he mumbles under his breath. “I just know she’s gonna think I hurt her on purpose. I always fuck it up somehow.”

“Woah, let’s breathe first,” she holds him steady at the shoulders, grip strong as she turns his body to face hers. “Breathe slowly.”

After a few panicked breaths, he looks back at her and attempts to inhale at a slower pace. A few seconds pass and he’s calmed down already, but a worried crease still flits across his features nonetheless.

“Listen to me, Jaehyun. Don’t leave her in the dark.”

His body loses tension bit by bit as he nods back a little, a heavy look in his eyes.

“We both know how that feels, better than anyone.”

…

Twenty-three missed calls.

That’s how many you’ve accumulated over one day.

You do the math on your bedroom ceiling as you lay splayed out on the mattress like a starfish. Each glow-in-the-dark, plastic star represents a missed call, and they swim across your vision as you point up at them with your hand to count them. 

There’s seven from Mark, another seven from Chaewon, four from Taeyong, one from Johnny, and the remaining four? Mentally moving the glowing stars across the solar system of the ceiling, you pick four of the brightest glowing stars before keeping them hidden in a little group at the corner of your eye.

4 missed calls from Jeong Jaehyun, your phone reads from beside you on the mattress, the screen habitually lighting up throughout the day.

Your hand itches to grab it and just call him like you so desperately want to, but you exercise self-restraint as you roll over and stuff your face into your pillow. It’s unfairly hot tonight — the sticky, humid type —  and being surrounded by all of your fluffy blankets and pillows does nothing to help your condition, but you don’t want to move out of your room. Letting out a muffled scream into the fabric, you groan to yourself when you realize that all of the problems floating around in your head won’t just magically disappear.

A normal Sunday would have gone like this: waking up mid afternoon with an abnormally large appetite, eating the entire contents of your kitchen to your heart’s content, and then going back to bed. Unfortunately, today was a bit different.

For the entire day, you’ve been busy. Busy thinking.

You had quickly left Johnny’s estate after your talk with Saemi early in the morning, borrowing one of Johnny’s cars from his garage and leaving him a little note that you’d return it soon (to be honest, you doubt that he’ll even notice). You’ve been in your room ever since. 

With your eyes trained out the window, your record player ran through entire sets of albums as you lay on your bed in contemplation for the entirety of the afternoon. The fan in your room barely kept you cool as it picked up the fabric of your sundress every few minutes, marking another block of time that had gone by without you getting up and doing something about your position. 

You let out a humph before throwing an arm over your eyes and retreating back into deep thought.

I’ve been distancing myself from him the entire day, and that’s the opposite of what I want to do, right? I’m turning into exactly what Saemi warned me not to.

Biting your lip, you turn your body over to stare at your motionless phone. But what should I do?

In a single impulsive movement, you reach out to grab the device before you can change your mind. Your fingers lead you to your contacts before your brain can catch up.

You can’t even fully register what you’ve just done, but Jaehyun’s name flashing across your screen certainly makes it all very much real, your phone waiting for him to pick up on the other side of the line. Your face gets hotter and hotter as the seconds tick on, the beeping of a no-caller reply heightening your nerves.

Finally, with a little click from your hand, he picks up. Your eyes widen. You really didn’t really think this through; now you had to actually talk to him.

“Hey,” Jaehyun sounds out, his voice breathless. “I- are you okay?”

“Yeah.” At least I think I am, you add on to yourself, grimacing. “Um… are you free today?”

“Am- am I free today? Yes! I mean yes, yes I’m free today.” 

You can’t help but smile at the way he trips over his words a bit, his nervousness bleeding over your speaker. 

“Well then, rooftop at mine at 10?”

“For real?” Jaehyun exclaims, checking the time on his alarm clock. That’s in twenty minutes. “Wait, I’ll be there. I promise.”

And with that, the two of you hang up with a million unspoken words and unfinished sentences. You let out the breath you were holding in, because you genuinely thought you would pass out when you heard Jaehyun’s voice again after finding out all that you did. Throwing yourself against your bed, you let yourself indulge in your feeling of hope again.

“He’ll be here,” you sigh in happiness to yourself. You relax into your pillows before springing up immediately, a look of horror taking over your face. “Oh my god, he’ll be here.”

Rushing around your room with a newfound energy, you make sure you don’t look like you just rolled out of bed (although you technically did just roll out of bed, but he doesn’t have to know that) before unlatching the window of your bedroom and carefully climbing out onto your roof.

It’s well past dusk now, and the sky is abnormally clear with not a single cloud in sight. The moon shines brilliantly in its place as it casts an eerie glow on the panels you’re sitting on, their bumpy texture making it seem like the material is constantly shifting. 

You let yourself go for a moment, resting your head in the palms of your heads before staring out at the roofs of your city. They create a complex, urban terrain: a mix of timely balconies and rooftop gardens, orange lanterns and fairy lights alike. 

The beeping of a car horn brings you out of your daze. Peering down into the street below you, a familiar, classy black car is visible through all of the telephone lines. 

Okay Y/N, deep breaths. 

Jaehyun gets out of the front seat, immediately looking up in hopes of catching a glimpse of you before you notice he’s there. However, when his eyes follow the length of your house up, he finds that you’re already staring at him with an unreadable expression. 

He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this nervous in his life. With cold hands, he lifts himself onto the electrical box beside your house before climbing up onto the slope of the roof, climbing over to you with an uneasy smile on his face. 

“Hey.”

You tuck your chin into your arms, leaning forward to look at him curiously. “You could’ve taken the window, you know, but that works too.”

“What’s life without any risks, hm?”

As he settles himself, you can’t help but think that there’s a double lining to his words. “That’s the most Jaehyun-esque thing I’ve ever heard.”

His laugh warms your heart in a way you didn't know it could.

The first few moments are quiet, just two pairs of eyes looking up at the stars before Jaehyun breaks the silence with a small cough. 

“We got lucky, there’s no clouds tonight. Pure stars.” You look over in his general direction, his gaze not even directed towards the sky anymore. 

He pauses, so you turn and happen to meet eyes at the same time. Both of you open your mouths to talk, prompted by the invisible tension between you. 

“Let me just say that—“ 

“I just wanted to tell you—“ he starts at the same time you do, eyes widening when you both go quiet once again. “You go first.” Giving him a grateful smile, you think a bit about how to express yourself before twisting your body completely so that you’re facing him. 

“I just wanted to apologize first,” you start, holding up a hand when Jaehyun starts to protest. “Wait. I really want to tell you this before I get too nervous to.”

“I know everyone was worried when I went kinda off the grid this morning, but I needed some time alone with my thoughts. I shouldn't have ignored you like that, especially when things seemed so off between us. This is really hard to say to your face but,” you glance away from him as he waits patiently for you, “I always feel this rush of different emotions whenever I’m around you. And sometimes it’s confusing, but other times—“ stopping to exhale, you notice Jaehyun’s grin from the corner of your eye. 

“Hey, why are you laughing? I’m trying to be serious right now,” you whine. He simply puts his hand up to his mouth to hide the elated expression on his face. 

“You’re just too cute, that’s all,” he replies adoringly, his eyes creasing behind his hand. 

“I can’t take this,” you mutter in embarrassment, stuffing your face into your arm to hide the blush of your cheeks. “See! Stuff like that. You make me experience, like, thirty different emotions at once.”

He simply giggles at you, throwing out a little “my bad,” but he doesn’t sound very sorry at all. You nudge him in the arm.

“Sorry sorry, Y/N. Wait, I’ll be serious now.”

Both of you taking deep breaths, you put your hand up to your heart to calm its erratic beating as Jaehyun composes his expression back to normal. 

“I really wanted to apologize too.”

You glance at him in surprise as the words leave his mouth, sincere and heavy. 

“I’ve been pretty shitty to you, and I recognize how confusing it must have been for you to watch me constantly go back and forth between different personas. Honestly, being back home forced me to face the people here, and suddenly I was thrown into this internal conflict between my high school life and my present self. That’s still no excuse for how many mixed signals I gave you these past few months, but I want you to know that it was never my intention to hurt you.”

Reaching out to brush a small leaf off your shoulder, his hand trails down your arm until he’s taken your hand in his. You can tell how much he means it by the way he’s looking at you — like you hold the entire galaxy in your eyes. You think that you finally see a replication of how you look at him yourself; after all, it’s being reflected back to you right now. 

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“I hope you can tell, but I really like you,” he whispers, bringing your hand up to his chest. He wants you to feel how much his nerves are racing just as fast as yours. 

You think that your heart just about stops. You’ve dreamt of this moment since you were younger, and now that it’s finally coming to life, it’s unreal to think that he feels the same.

“I think you know how I feel,” you reply back quietly, looking down at your hands entwined with his. 

“Say it?” he asks with a pleading face, the corners of his lips quirking up when you roll your eyes. 

“Jeong Jaehyun, do you really think I believe that you didn’t know that I’ve liked you ever since we were kids?” Shaking his head innocently at your suspicion, he pouts in a manner that’s very unlike him. 

“Fine,” you give up, unable to hide the smile creeping up on your face. “I like you Jaehyun, I like you so much that you don’t even know how happy I am right now.”

“Oh, I know. Come here,” he scoots over before tapping the side of his shoulder with his finger. Not getting the memo, you tilt your head inquisitively before he reaches over himself and puts your head on his shoulder himself. If your heart was skipping beats before, it’s probably failing to beat at all now. 

“I want you to trust me,” he murmurs under his breath, his grip tightening on your hand. “I know I don’t have the best track record right now, but I’ll prove to you how much I like you.”

You furrow your brows in confusion. “You don’t have to prove anything…“ You wholeheartedly believe and trust in his feelings, but with the way he’s looking at you right now, you decide to humor him and raise an eyebrow prompting him to go on. 

“Wait, you’ll do anything?” You ask, looking up at the stars to hide your telling grin. 

“Anything. Even suffer through another one of those awful DiCaprio movies.”

“Suffer?” you exclaim, your head lifting off of his shoulder with his words. 

“Shit- no no not suffer. Who said suffer? You must’ve misheard me, I most definitely said enjoy.”

“You’re on thin ice, Jeong.”

He snorts at your threatening expression, an arm snaking behind you to wrap around your waist protectively. 

Turning his head to look down at you, you’re met with his nose almost touching yours. You can see every eyelash, every freckle adorning his skin as neither of you make the motion to move away. 

Jaehyun loses his breath at the sight of you so close. He keeps his teasing eyes on yours before taking that extra step forward to bump your noses together. Glancing down at your lips, he steadies himself so that his voice can sound as confident as he envisions it in his head. 

“Can I kiss you?”

“Please, Jaehyun.”

With your consent, he pulls you forward by the waist before slotting your lips together carefully. You’re not sure if it’s the pressure at which he’s holding you, or the fact that you’ve waited for this moment for almost your entire youth, but kissing Jaehyun is glorious. 

He moves a hand up to cup the back of your neck before pushing forward impossibly closer, tucking your hair behind your ear in one smooth motion as his mouth moves in tandem with yours. 

You make a noise of surprise when he takes your bottom lip between his teeth, giving you a little nip before licking over the skin carefully. The passion and lust that seeps through his tongue is made clear as the minutes pass, and your reactions only spur him on.

Th mix of his skin on yours burning its way across your body and the delicacy at which he touches you makes your heart alight for a completely different reason. Threading your fingers through his hair, you're delighted to find that that particular motion makes him shudder under your hands, and kiss you more like his life depends on it.

After a while of marking each other's skin and exchanging sweet nothings between his kisses, you tap his chest to pull apart for air, your breathless mien making him grin smugly. 

“I’m that good, huh?”

“Shut up, Jaehyun.”

…

The rings on your fingers clink with his as you hand him a metal camping cup, its silver surface hot to the touch even at night. Glancing up at Jaehyun, you laugh when you catch his skeptical expression. 

“The hell is this…” he asks in borderline horror as the liquid in his cup sloshes around. 

“Mark’s gonna love hearing that,” you remark, putting your own cup to your lips as you bring your knees to your chest.

It’s the most comfortable when you’re with Jaehyun like this, sitting on the hood of his car in the dead of the night to stargaze into the early hours of the morning. 

It’s been a few weeks since that night on the rooftop, and you’ve never felt more alive. From long drives with Taeyong to mini adventures with Mark, and from jukebox diners with Chaewon and constellation hunting with Jaehyun, you finally feel at home in a place you’re about to leave. University is close on the horizon, but that doesn’t mean you can’t spend your last free evenings with the people you love the most. 

“Is this your recipe?” Jaehyun asks, pulling up your legs so that they rest over his lap. You shake your head with a cheeky smile. 

“Stole it,” you whisper, scrunching your nose at the distinct smell. 

“And what did Mark’s creative ass come up with this time,” he laments back, taking your cup to compare it with his in confusion. 

“Our cups hold the same exact thing, Jaehyun. I didn’t secretly poison your drink if that’s what you’re thinking, and I know you are.” You take back your cup before taking another sip and taking a little piece of paper out of your pocket to read from. “But anyway, it's ‘orange liquor, orange juice, lime juice, maple syrup, sliced jalapeño, and agave blanco sugar in the rim.’ You can steal the recipe too, but don't tell him that I gave it to you. He’d murder me.”

“Mm,” he muses, nuzzling into your neck. “I wouldn’t want my girlfriend dead.”

You freeze in mid-air, mind turning the title over and over again in your head. “Girlfriend?”

Jaehyun sits up immediately, looking at you with the most mortified expression on his face. “Fuck, I never asked you to be my girlfriend, did I?”

With a small giggle at his antics, you simply lean against him and pat his arm in consolation. “It’s okay, I don’t need a label to know how you feel about me.” Jaehyun hums contently before suddenly wrapping his arms around you, your delighted shriek ringing out as he pulls you down with him and falls back against the metal roof of the car. 

“Can we just stay like this forever?” 

You sigh in satisfaction as your body follows the rises and falls of his chest. The stars above seem to blink happily at the two of you as they make their way across the sky, the little, twinkling lights of overpassing planes highlighting their presence.

Intertwining your fingers with his, he gently kisses the side of your face before closing his eyes.

Even if the two of you hadn’t realized it yet, it had always been like this: two childish souls crafting the idea of mature love. Two blooming young adults, with fizzing feelings and cherry picked lips, daring to love one another like the grownups in black and white colored movies.

Your summers are defined by sticky ‘n sweet cherry cola, rides around the abandoned carousel with your friends, and “borrowing” quarters out of your brother’s Cadillac to insert into the jukebox of the local diner. They’re tinged with the taste of Mark’s special drinks and Chaewon’s sweet words, with Taeyong’s cheery voice ringing out throughout your house and your parents’ weekly sitcom reruns. And most of all, summers are made of Jaehyun’s lavender cologne and the way he holds you close when you need it the most.

“Don’t be surprised if the moon calls you by name, Y/N, because I tell her about you all the time.”

…

<3 you can find their character profiles HERE.

[ for Y/N, mark, chaewon, jaehyun, taeyong, and saemi ]

…

xoxo

2023 © kiachiako | all rights reserved.

[fragilecapric0rnn]

“it’s okay, i couldn’t sleep anyway” for the prompt thing!! (-patheticgirlsteve)

OKAY SO this prompt is from a prompt list I rb'd in December (wowza!) and I found the writing for this prompt half finished in my WIPs folder today and decided to finish it!

This ficlet is also a look into the in-progress When Harry Met Sally-inspired AU/canon divergence fic. I've been sitting on both that fic and this snippet for far too long and have been itching to share something. So, here's the something!

(something set in the late summer of '98, in a city that doesn't bode well during heat waves)

It’s an unusually hot night in Steve’s apartment. 

It's going to be an unusually hot week in the city, actually.

Steve has gotten used to the temperate San Francisco weather in the 11 years he's been a resident. But after 11 years, he's still surprised at the random bursts of heat that creep in during these last few weeks of August. Just in time for him and his students to sit inside the toaster oven that is his classroom during the first week of school.

Thankfully, it's not a school night. The last week of his summer vacation, and he's spent most of the daylight hours dangling half of his body out of the screen-less street-facing window in his apartment, praying a breeze would whip past him. (It didn't).

After an hour of tossing and turning in bed, in nothing but a pair of boxers, the open window providing no relief, the air stale and hot and a bit sticky, he decided to move to the living room, where he will still be suffering, but at least there's a TV out there.

A movie he remembers seeing with Robin in the theater during their Oakland days is playing as soon as he flicks on the TV, reminding him of how long it's been since they've lived together, let alone in that first apartment in Oakland. Freshly 20 and 21, figuring out how to live on their own, thousands of miles from everyone and everything they knew. Figuring out how to deal with the calmness of it all.

Remembers talking about the movie again in '92, and being annoyed with all of his friends (Eddie and Nancy) who thought that Lloyd and Diane broke up in London. Wonders if they're still as cynical about love today as they were back then.

As he's counting the years back in his head, the phone rings, pulling him out of his thoughts.

“Hel-lo?” He answers, remembering that it is 2am in the middle of the word, dragging it into two syllables to make it seem like he's shocked that someone is calling him.

“What the hell are you doing awake at this hour?” Eddie quips, Steve reflexively rolls his eyes, at both the tone of his voice and the question itself.

“How do you know that you didn’t just interrupt my much needed beauty sleep?” He scoffs, flicking his head like he would if Eddie were sitting right here on the couch with him. Eddie must pick up on it, chuckling over the phone, a similar sound to the one he made when he was sitting on this couch hours ago, suffering with Steve in his apartment.

Now there's something twenty-one year old Steve would be shocked to learn. That him and Eddie became friends, at all.

“I can hear the TV.” Steve hums in response, turns the volume down a notch or two. “But, here’s a courtesy ‘I’m sorry’ for the late night call.”  

“It’s okay. I couldn’t sleep anyway.” Steve sighs as the slightest breeze rolls through the open window. He's a much better sleeper than twenty-one year old Steve, but due to recent life-changing events and this damn heat-wave, a late-night phone call with Eddie is almost routine at this point

“I miss Evie’s apartment. She had AC.” Eddie says, casually. Steve still doesn't get how he can talk about her so casually. How he can just bring her up like it's nothing. If he even thinks about -

“I still can’t believe you got your heartbroken by a trust fund baby.” He says, cutting off his own thought.

“I’m more heartbroken about that AC unit right now,” still casual, as if he is actually heartbroken about an AC and not a person.

“What’re you watching?” He asks.

“Say Anything.” 

“Channel?”

“12.” 

The scene where Lloyd is talking to Diane’s father on the prison yard. It makes him think of Eddie on the other line, sitting in his unintentional bachelor pad a few blocks away from his own. The thought must’ve made Eddie’s ears burn. 

“That’s not what visitation is actually like, ya know?” His voice is soft.

“Oh yeah?” Steve says, wanting to encourage but not pry.

“Yeah. It’s indoors, at tables, cold and gray. Feels dirty and sterile at the same time.” Eddie says.

“I always thought it happened between a plane of glass, with a telephone on either side of the glass.” Steve offers, giving him an out, a chance to change the subject if he wants to bow out.

“That’s what it’s like in county jail. Prison’s different.” Steve hums again, knows there’s no need to respond with anything else. Steve doesn’t need to ask him how he knows all of this. He knows that Eddie doesn’t expect him to ask. That’s the thing, about old friends, about them, about their whole gang. There are certain things they’ll always know about each other. 

His mind drifts to a little Eddie and a younger Wayne, walking into a room just like Eddie had described, going through the motions. It pulls at his chest a little. 

“Do you still think they broke up in London?” Steve tests.

“I don’t think they broke up in London?” Eddie says, a tad defensive. 

“Yes you do, or you did.” He remembers the conversation, he knows Eddie must remember the conversation.

“When did I say that?” 

“In San Diego, we had a whole thing about it, the five of us.” The drunk and loud debate was held stuffed into a diner booth in San Diego. Before you left.

Eddie pauses.

“I did say that, didn’t I?” 

“You sure did.” 

“Well, to answer your question, no. I don't think so. I think that they’re two weirdos who were meant for each other.” Eddie says, Steve sinks further into the couch, holds the phone up with his shoulder.

“That's exactly what I said then.” 

"Well, I think it now."

"Me too." It comes out softer than he expected. Suddenly thankful that this conversation is happening over the phone, so he can scrunch the feeling away from his face, take a deep breath and shake the feeling that just washed over his body.

“I know a thing or two about weirdos who’re meant for each other.” Eddie says playfully, that tone he uses when he's half-joking, but half-serious. Steve feels something bubble in the very depths of his stomach. 

“Oh yeah? Who?” 

“You and Robin.” Pop. He lets out a deep breath.

“Ha ha.” Steve says, toning up the sarcasm.

“Max and Lucas, Joyce and Jim, the entire gang who’s bonded by the terrors of the 80s and government NDA’s.” Steve’s laugh barks out of him, he can’t hide how surprised he is at these words coming out of Eddie’s mouth. 

“What? What’s so funny?” 

“Nothing, it’s just…” He trails off, trying to choose his next words carefully. “Not used to you talking about the past. Hasn’t really been your thing.” His mind drifts momentarily to San Diego again. Watching him hail that cab. Running away. 

“There's a lotta things that I used to do, or not do.” There’s a pause. Either of them could say something, there’s something dangling in the air between them, between their two phone lines, filling the space between their two apartments. Just as Steve opens his mouth to say something, cut the tension, snatch the feeling out of the air, Eddie beats him to it.

[x22bby]

OC Questionnaire

Thanks for the tag @smallsimmer + @pleaseputnamehere I've always wanted to do these ! You guys are the sweetest ♡

Name: Dilan Sage Kaiser

Nickname: Growing up being called Sage by her late father. She doesn't like it so much anymore since his passing.. unless you're really special.

Gender: Female

Star sign: Scorpio

Height: 5'11 She likes the fact she can stand over most of you.

Orientation: Bisexual

Nationality/Ethnicity: Turkish/German

Favorite Fruit: Blueberries (of course with honey and sugar on them)

Favorite Season: Summer, mainly for the sunsets and late nights of heat

Favorite Flower: Black Dahlia's - She loves the beauty of it and the dark hues vary so much to each petal.

Favorite Scent: Amber Vanilla

Coffee, Tea, or Hot Chocolate: Black Tea with INSANE amounts of sugar and cream... Coffee is how she survives at this point..

Average Hours of Sleep: 2-6 hours Dilan is always making music or writing.. usually late nights of depression and regrets fill her mind.

Dogs or Cats: Cats considering she was bitten by a dog as a kid.. she never let go of that grudge tbh

Dream Trip: Mostly she dreams of going alone to the dark forests of Sweden.. Just to wake in the fog of the hills.

Number of Blankets: So. Many. Furry. Blankets... It's an ungodly amount..

Random Fact: She hides the fact she feels fear for her future because of Death. She expresses this through her music she writes, which she also keeps to herself. Ever since the death of her father who she was so close to, she doesn't think she can even make it. She fears someone getting closer to her just to end up losing her.. she doesn't want to inflict this pain on someone else so she isolates. During this isolation she writes and makes music.. pacing the floor for hours at night thinking and thinking. She tries holding it together being the tough friend, unphased by anything. She hopes one day she can release music that really shares how she feels about her mental state without judgement from her family or friends.

I tag : @crsentfairy @sourlemonsimblr @rollo-rolls I know I'm forgetting probably but know ily! Anyone that wants to join feel free to do so and tag me (:

(I was about to do this last night at 2am then I past out mid way lmfao)

[fullofgutsndopamine]

Flowers In The Passenger Seat (Taken Out Of Context)

or: part of the big brother!hasan universe

or or: talking hasan off the ledge when anxiety is bad

“i’m afraid i’m going to ruin her life,” he whispers, his voice is tight and his forehead pressed against yours, “Fuck it up instead of make it better.”

tw/cursing, mention of anxiety, mention of past physical abuse (not graphic, but talks about scars), toxic masculinity, catholic guilt, implied verbal/physical abuse

series master list here

(not required reading, but you might enjoy it if you like this)

hasan comes out, in his true form, between 2am-5am.

his voice is deep with sleep, borders on slurring, heavy eye kids from a double shift at the shop, grease stains that never come out of his hands, night classes finished (“makin a better life for us, sunshine’” he’ll insist to his tiny shadow clinging to his belt loops as he picks her up from the library, running to keep up with his long strides.)

she’s too young to understand what a better life could possibly be, especially because she thinks this is the better life, by hasan's side, but she nods and repeats it back, (“a better life!” she’ll giggle to his side, her tiny fingernails dig into his denim, too thin for the cold winter, but he’d rather spend the money on her, even if it goes into new school uniform shirts she needs or holy fuck she needs new shoes already?!)

“Hasan-“ sleep finds you, easily. especially with him curled into your side, his head buried deep into the crook of your neck, imagines he’s sticking his head into the sand, a: la la la as he ignores all the real life problems he has. because with you, the real life problems aren’t nearly as bad.

he talks first.

“i’m afraid i’m going to ruin her life,” he whispers, his voice is tight and his forehead pressed against yours, “Fuck it up instead of make it better.”

“Hasan,” you sigh, turning over to face him, to put your finger under his chin, make him look at you, his eyes are misty and his face has tear streaks on it, like he was torturing himself before he finally spoke, bared his bones to you. “You’re doing good, what’s this about?” you whisper, press his forehead against yours.

“What if i fuck her up?” he whimpers. “Like our parents fucked me up-“

“hasan, you aren’t a fuck up-“

he doesn’t talk about the past much. prefers to leave it in the past. little bits come out; talks about his childhood with this hard look on his face his “before Amelie” times and “after Amelie” times, he’ll say, “when things got better. Made sense.”

you’ve seen the scars that liter his body, curve and twist in every angle on his back, white with age; only making an appearance as he mows the lawn in the hot summer, or when the boss is out of the shop and he’s working on a car by himself- “less people,” he mutter, before his eyes get dark, “less questions.”

He’s crying now, into your shoulder blade, like when he was a kid and buried his head into his mothers apron strings, hiding himself, always trying to make himself smaller, even then-because making yourself smaller meant less problems, less eyes on you-

“hasan,” you hush him gently, the pad of your thumb goes over his cheek, wiping away the tears gently, “you are doing amazing-“

“you have to say that” he sniffles his voice muffled from inside your shoulder blade.

“hasan,” you sigh, “I don’t have to say shit. Amelie adores you. she talks about you non stop.”

silence. only his sniffling is heard.

“Just cause she’s talkin’ ‘bout me doesn’t mean i’m doin’ good.” he finally settles on.

hasan is stubborn. probably the most stubborn person you’ve ever met.

and he isn’t the perfect guardian. even he knows that. there’s nights he has to take deep breaths, remind himself that she doesn’t get it, when she stomps her tiny foot at him, jabs her finger into his leg, “I hate you.” she’ll declare.

and even though it’s coming from a five year old-it still fucking hurts, right?

“You don’t mean it.” he’ll insist. swallowing hard to get rid of the tears that threaten to fall in front of her.

“Yeah!” she’ll say again, “you’re the reason mama and pa are gone!”

and she doesn’t get it.

she’s young. too young to understand the truth behind what happened, it being for the best, only knows secondhand stories.

“You made Pa leave!” she’ll say again, and on those days, the worst days, he doesn’t even think about doing what happened to him, stuck black and blue sobbing into a corner for hours on end, alone. (“be a man, for once in your pathetic fucking life, hasan.”)

“You don’t mean it, sunshine.” he’ll say again, his voice is low, raspy.

“Yeah-huh!” shell insist, her face bright red as fat tears fall down. “and-“

and before she can say it again, he brings her closer. a tight hug, squeezes her tight against his belly-

“hasan, no.” she’ll try again, but he’s already on his knees in front of her, like he’s begging for forgiveness from her, like all those years in church until his knees were bloody and scarred-

he doesn’t listen. Grabs her closer, squeezes her tighter. doesn’t let go. never let’s go.

Blows raspberries on her neck and cheeks, her belly, until she’s finally laughing, the words she said to him earlier gone.

he’s stubborn. almost as stubborn as she is.

You groan, but take his hair into your hands, gently pulling at his hair, tiny little fistfuls, the only way sleep can find him some days, and instantly, a sigh comes out of him, like some pressure was released from him.

“She talks about you,” you say gently, “like you put the stars in the sky. it’s annoying. and endearing-“

he huffs, opens his mouth and he’s about to interrupt him but you continue first-

“And last week?” you continue, “when she had that night terror? what happened?”

and you pause, making him finish, his voice defeated because he knows you’re right, knows your the voice of reason, won’t stop until he talks-

“I just went to check on her-“ he says, his voice gruff.

“hasan you shot out of bed,” you sigh, “Like, my eyes weren’t even all the way open and you were sliding across the floor to her. had her calmed down in the time it took me to walk across the floor.”

“That’s what big brothers do.” he says gently, remembers his mama bringing her home, a small bundle of blankets that cooed at him the second she looked at him, his mother crouched down next to hasan, holding the bundle up in the air, her voice goes through his head: “This is your sister, hasan. You take care of her. That’s what big brothers do.”

time has passed. time made him rough around the edges, wouldn’t fit in the same hole he did when he was younger, when everything was still good and his Pa had a job and a reason to get out of the house-

time passed. he’s rougher around the edges, thought it would be him and Amelie against the world, terrified that the world would make her rough, make her hate everything -make him hate her-the idea keeps him up most nights.

“Exactly,” you pull him down to earth gently, “And you’re doing amazing. Seriously, she turned out great and that’s because of you, hasan.”

he sniffles.

a small voice in his doorway, hard to see, only an outline, holds a stuffed bunny but the ear, is practically falling off, patches on top of patches that sapnap has had to sew, then sew again in the dark of the night, poking his finger and cursing under his breath as the needle stabs at him. (“Carrots,” He’d say, the first day he presented her with him after her first top real nightmare, “kept me safe and now he’ll do the same for you.”)

“hasan?” the voice calls gently, is quiet, timid.

“Sunshine’?” Hasan scoots up on his elbows until he’s sitting up in bed, “It’s late, what’re you doin’ up?”

“Can’t sleep,” She whimpers, “The wind is too loud.”

he laughs, some ease to it.

“C’mon, sunshine’,” he says, turns over to turn the bedside light on, “There’s a spot for ya right here.”

and she giggles, runs full speed to the side of the bed until he smiles, leans down and picks her up by her armpits and sets her in the middle of you and him.

she immediately curls into his neck, his fingers laced around yours and he brings your hand to his mouth to kiss the top of it.

“Story, hasan.” Amelie giggles into his side and because you love to tease him too, you gasp:

“Yeah, hasan! story.”

he rolls his eyes, “I ain’t much of a storyteller.” he’ll say every-time, his face pink, like he’ll be able to get out of it.

“C’mon,” Amelie will prod at him, “Story, hasan.”

and he’ll sigh, like he doesn’t love it.

“Alright,” he’ll sigh, plays with the ends of your hair gently, his kid in his side, her bony knees in his side, “fine. Close your eyes. “

and you’ll both obey, even though he wasn’t talking to you; gives a messy kiss to Amelie’s forehead, “Let’s see,” he sighs, “Okay. Once upon a time-“

and you settle in, because he doesn’t tell stories often, so you’ll indulge yourself into this, let his voice lull you to sleep, the way his voice goes up and down with the stories, with new plot hooks and when a new character comes in, they get a distinct voice.

you her and hasan, “the way it should be.” he’d smile as he drives his truck to work in the morning, a prayer to get it to start, chugs loudly around to drop you off at work, Amelie to your side, him down the road at the shop.

because this is his little family. made it himself, found it himself.

[caterpillarinacave]

I love Charlotte and Henry and they're super underrated. And I would VERY MUCH like to hear the headcanons whirring about in your brain.

Oh well buckle up cause literally all I think about is head cannons. Like, you know how cells replace themselves every few years? Mine have replaced themselves with head cannons. *Sorry it took me a hot moment to answer this ask, I was busy howling into my pillow whenever I tried to articulate thoughts.*

First of all, they’re very cuddly. They basically sleep on top of each other (Charlotte hasn’t needed a pillow in decades). Henry cant sleep well without Charlotte in his arms and Charlotte can’t sleep well anywhere other than Henry’s arms so it works out. Plus, they both do that thing where they jerk awake like the world is ending and scare the shit out of each other, so sleeping in a hug that basically pins them both down saves some energy at 2am. Henry’s perpetually cold and sleeps under like, four blankets, so Charlotte just wears summer nightgowns all year and wraps herself around Henry like a koala.

Naturally there’s an angsty side to the incessant cuddling because that’s just the way I role.

Charlotte sleeps with her head on Henry’s chest so she can always feel him breathing because, by the angel, she remembers when he wasn’t. She sleeps with a hand on his pulse point because she wakes up in the middle of the night and she’s still half asleep they might as well be on the floor in that mountain and she might as well still be desperately swearing she didn’t imagine his heartbeat.

While on the topic of soul crushing feelings of guilt, y’all remember from Clockwork Angel that Henry was the one who told Mortmain what a Pyxis was? And he wanted Charlotte to tell the clave that and she wouldn’t because “they already treat him so badly”? Because I do. And so does Henry.

(I’ve got a whole WIP that I love very dearly about this head cannon and this chess game hehe) There’s one random old tutor who goes to the London institute once a month-ish, basically to hand out a few weeks of homework to any shadow hunters who don’t have their own tutors. Most shadow hunters who live in a more rural area show up a few times a year so the clave knows they’re alive and at least somewhat literate. Charlotte attends them every month since, you know, she lives there, but Henry lives somewhere around Yorkshire so he shows up every few months. The professor is kind of a dick ngl. He doesn’t help Charlotte with any school why would a woman need to be so well educated? “Go on find a husband and stop worrying you’re pretty little head” sort of shit. Henry drives him insane because he’s a) some random kid who’s smarter than him and b) didn’t use any of the professors materials to get that smart. Professor Douche is constantly trying to get him to be wrong about something, or at least flustered about something and he doesnt ever do either of those things, and even more aggravating he refuses to get upset. (He honestly just assumed the professor wasn’t that smart.)

Charlotte’s a really good student of course, but she’s having a shit time with some mathematics and the professor absolutely refuses to help her with it. Eventually she asks Henry if he wouldn’t mind helping her with it, which he’s happy to do (once he figures out that’s what shes actually asking lol.)

Charlotte is incredibly distracted the entire time by Henry’s freckles (and eyes. And hands. And the way his hair curls on the nape of his neck. And the spots of gold and green in his hazel eyes that flashed as bright as the sun when the light catches them. And-), but they get through it in an hour or two which leaves them alone in a deserted wing of the institute. They end up playing a game chess. Charlottes a decent player and thought since Henry had never showed any interest in chess it would be a probably be an evenly matched game. She didn’t know what hit her. He beat her in like, eight minutes, eighty percent of which were spent on the last two moves by Charlotte who, upon realizing she was fucked, spent five minutes staring at the board trying to figure out when he even started beating her. She was sitting there having a whole crisis, (she’d been distracted by a man who probably doesn’t like her, and certainly doesn’t think much of her now after a pathetic loss like that and now she’ll have to sit hear and wallow in failure-) just preparing for him to start that whole smug gloating thing men do when they win and Henry you know. Didn’t. He just put the pieces away and thanked her for the game, in that very genuine way, with the gloomy London evening light casting a depressing shadow across the room, a shadow that he stood out against all gentle, kind, bright and brimming with a sort of barely contained passion. If Charlotte had ever doubted that shadow hunters had come from straight angels then sitting there, looking at a boy stained in soot, who she loved more than anything else to walk the earth, she would never doubt it again.

(It wasn’t until after Henry won and noticed Charlotte hadn’t said anything in a while that he remember people don’t like losing. Honestly he was playing just to be around her and he would have thrown the game if he could conceptualize how to do that on the fly. They spent like five minutes in autistic silence waiting for the other to stand up and declare newfound hatred.)

In true British fashion the a modern tea bag would kill them both.

When they were both 13 or 14 Charlotte mentioned she was dreading winter because it’s so bleak and dark (and her mom had died a few winters before, though she didn’t drop that in casual conversation). Anyways, come winter Henry brought her a marigold preserved in something like resin. She kept it in her jewelry box for years and after they got married she found out he had literally dozens of them. Whenever he came across a particularly bright flower he preserved it and set it aside. He was never quite brave enough to give them to her pre-TID, but he now leaves them for her when she’s particularly sad or stressed. She keeps them all in a drawer- they fit together like little tiles, and still look as fresh as they would had they just been plucked from the ground.

Somewhat surprisingly Henry doesn’t really lose stuff, with the singular exception being his own medical equipment. He’s lost the leg braces he wears every single day of his life before. Charlotte’s not usually speechless but she wasn’t sure what to say to that one.

Henry gave Charlotte a watch with a hands and numbers that can glow the same way a modern day one would. It’s absolutely beautiful, durable and accurate, even if Henry set himself on fire at least four times making it. (They can say with confidence that that watch is fireproof)

—-

Honestly, I could go on and on, then on some more, but technically I’m supposed to be writing a paper on gut micro biomes that’s due tomorrow, so I figured I’d cut myself of. In conclusion, I love them dearly, they love each-other dearly, they deserve the world, all I can think about is them, and the world can pry them out of my cold dead hands.

[roberrtphilip]

okay i really need to go to bed so last question that is related: what are the sleeping headcanons !!! light/heavy sleeper, pre-sleep rituals/routines, insomnia, dreams, talking in sleep, etc. give me the cozy snuggly tea

(pre-sofia, (and post-her being a babbie) because of course a little Princess is gonna affect the sleeping vibes quite drastically, lmaooo)

God, a train could crash through their house, and Robert would sleep right through it. He is such a heavy sleeper, and it absolutely amazes Giselle. She timed him once on how long it took him to finally hear his alarm... thirty minutes !!!

The only sound that wakes that man up is his babies crying, he is very aware of when his daughters need him, and will always wake right up. Which surprised Giselle, but she was very thankful, because she's a very light sleeper, so she thought she'd be spending most nights either caring for Sofia herself, or pushing Robert until he finally woke up.

Giselle also struggles with falling asleep. Her mind is so active, and she can't ever seem to shut it off. She spends hours just lying in bed either staring at the ceiling, or watching Robert sleep. It's also not uncommon for her to wake him up and ask random questions that float through her head, or sometimes she'll do it just because she misses him and wants someone to talk to. Robert was very confused about this at first, and wasn't... thrilled about being woken up at 2AM just to be asked "why do you not like snow?" but now he's very used to it and will nod along with whatever it is she's saying. His eyes are usually closed, but he is listening !! It's also hard for her to go back to sleep once she's woken up, and she's usually up very early. She likes being awake at the crack of dawn for many reasons, but one is that she hopes if she's up earlier, and does several things throughout the day, she'll be tired and actually sleep later. It doesn't always work, but she keeps doing it anyway.

They also both can't sleep unless they're touching each other in some way. Usually they fall asleep facing each other, arms wrapped around the other, and their limbs are all tangled up. Even when they're fast asleep, they cling. I headcanon Giselle is a very warm (almost too warm at times) person, and during summer, Robert is struggling bc all she wants to do is cuddle, but she's too hot. And one summer, their AC broke, and Robert woke up drenched in sweat, and tried to get Giselle to stop clinging to him, but no matter how much he pushed her away, she'd just roll right back over and grab him. He ended up having to sleep on the couch that night bc it was just too hot ☹️ but he's used to her body heat now, and will suffer if he has to bc he doesn't like sleeping alone.

For Morgan, as a baby she hardly, if ever cried. She was so quiet, and it really surprised Robert bc he was fully expecting to deal with a ton of sleepless nights, and headaches. And there was some of that right after his divorce, but it didn't last long, thankfully. She was a pretty heavy sleeper, and still is, though not nearly as bad as Robert. I also headcanon that, if Morgan woke up in the middle of the night, instead of crying for his attention, she'd just stare at him. Robert woke up several times to her just 👁️👄👁️ through her crib, and he'd be like "God, Morgan... I am begging you, please start crying... I can't keep waking up to your big ol' eyes just staring at me."

Sofia, omg, Sofia as a baby was the complete opposite of Morgan. She was so loud, and every little sound would wake her up. She was also always wide awake at night, and slept through (most of) the day. Her being a night owl didn't surprise them, really, because she always kicked Giselle the most at night, but it didn't stop them from feeling overwhelmed. And the only way to get her to stop crying was to hold her. The second they'd put her back down, she'd start crying again. And they love holding their baby, of course, they never want to put her down, but it definitely effected their own sleep schedules. But, as Sofia grows up, she inherits Robert's heavy sleeping, and just like him, could sleep through a train crash. Giselle & Robert spend like ten/fifteen minutes waking her up for school, and she's always so grumpy in the morning.

Oh, and night routines !! Giselle started doing a nightly skincare routine, and begged Robert to join her. At first, he did it just to make her happy, but then he started to realize his skin looked amazing and he was like "wait... you're onto something with this skincare crap" and now they do a lil routine together every night. Giselle would 100% have a headband like this (x) or this (x), and Robert would have this one (x) because it's so silly & stupid and he certainly cannot just have a basic one, not on Giselle's watch !!

[sometimes-surveys]

21.

Do you ever just feel like you need to be alone for some reason? - Oh yes, I not only love to be alone, I need to be alone sometimes. I'm super grateful that I have a partner that understands that, because in the past, it was seen as me being distant and a bitch. But, I'm an introvert 100% and get exhausted by socializing and/or constantly being around people.

When was the last time you wore something totally inappropriate for the weather? Does this happen often? - Never. Ever since I was a child, my dad would have the weather channel on while my mom would be picking out or ironing my school clothes. I've always been one to check the weather before getting dressed since then. I guess the closest I get to not dressing well, is if I go to a show in winter and don’t wear anything to keep myself warm while outside. That’s only because inside, in the crowd it gets hot.

The last time you went out of the house, where were you going and what did you do? - I was going to my parents' house. I'm glad I wore dressier clothes, because usually I go over in just a graphic t-shirt and some form of pull on pants (leggings, joggers, etc), but my mom wanted to go out and shop and have lunch. So I did that, and when we came back, we all watched a movie and just sat around and talked until my husband came to get me.

When was the last time someone cancelled plans on you? Were you annoyed? - I have no friends to cancel on me, haha. And when I did, honestly I was the person that flaked on plans.

Do you have a friend that has a tendency to “dump” you whenever they get a new partner? - I did, which honestly hurt my feelings because when it was me with a new partner, I made sure she was included with just about everything we did. Because with me, if you're dating me, you're practically dating my best friend, too. Like, it's a package deal.  But now I have no friends so I don't have to worry about that.

Would you ever want to go on vacation with just one of your parents? - Absolutely! I would love to go on vacation with my dad and do cool new things, like eating at foreign food restaurants, visit museums, and nature explorations. Stuff that my mom isn't into and would never do on a family vacation. And with her, it would be cool to have a relaxing "girls’ weekend" situation where we just veg out, shop, and treat ourselves.

In summer, do you prefer to wear dresses or shorts and tops? Or maybe something else? - Dresses, but I love wearing dresses all year round.

Has someone ever tried to start an argument with you over Facebook? What happened? - I don't have Facebook.

Have you ever had an unusual type of milk (eg. oat, rice, almond)? - I have to say, those aren't unusual anymore, but yes. I use almond milk, and I've tried oat milk and didn't like it. It tasted too close to cow's milk which grosses me out...which is stupid, I know, because I eat cheese and whatnot. 

If you could experience life as a Disney princess for a week, which princess would you pick and why? - Tiana, because she's the best and I wouldn't have to act too princess proper. I'd want to be a wild one, and like, pie people in the face...but with huge beignets covered in powdered sugar, haha. I wouldn't really, but can you imagine?

How many cans of soda would you say you drink in a week, if any at all? - I don't really drink soda. I'd say I drink maybe three sodas a month, and that's just because if my husband and I go out to eat, I'll sometimes order one. But usually, I just drink water.

When you’re at home, do you spend most of your time in your room? - Nah, I spend most of the time in the living room.

If you like to sleep in late, have your parents ever told you off for doing so? - I don't live with my parents, but when I was in school, my mom used to get on my case about it. We had to be at school by 7:15am...and I was an insomniac. I'd finally fall asleep around like 2am most nights and had to be up by like 6:15am to get ready for school. It was rough.

How much stuff do you take with you when you go on vacation for a week? - Too much! I'm am very guilty of overpacking for trips, but I'd rather have it and not need it, than need it and not have it.

How old is your oldest living relative? - I have a grandaunt that's 90, maybe even 91 now.

Do you know anyone who is an alcoholic? How has that affected you? - I think my husband's friend might be one, because he apparently drinks at least a dozen beers a night. But also, and it's my biggest fear, that my brother could be one. It's affecting me because my family has already been through this with my dad (who has been sober for eight years, I think, this November) and it just sucks because we've talked about it, and he says he'll switch things up and that he doesn't even really drink during the weekdays, but then I'll hear something different from my mom.

Could you willingly live on a vegan diet? - I have before for 2.5 years, I could do it again. I'm about 80% vegan, right now. But I couldn't hack it 100% because I'm weak for certain foods and honestly I was kind of miserable.

If you’re a fan of Harry Potter, are you sad that there’ll never be another book or movie? - Not a fan. I don't hate it or anything, I just never got into it like a lot of people did.

If you’re an only child, do you wish you had siblings? If you have siblings, do you get along? - I have two older brothers and an older sister (that's really my half sister) and we all get along. There were definitely times where my brothers and I didn't, though, and I've only been around my sister a handful of times because she lives in New York.

How long have you had the shirt you’re wearing? - For a couple months, and it's a kaftan. Comfiest thing I own and I'm always wearing it, haha.

What happened last time you got drunk? - My husband and I were watching Thirteen Ghosts, then ended up singing karaoke together.

When’s the last time you straightened your hair? - Thursday.

Do you bite your toe nails? - Ew, no.

Last thing you said out loud? - "Snakes" because I'm stupid and was pretending that my braid was a snake and tickled my husband's arm with it.

Last time you laughed your head off? - Probably yesterday. I went to my parents' house and  every time I go over there, my brother and I cut up.

What do you want right this second? - I don't know, nothing I guess.

How are you sitting? - Criss-cross applesauce on the couch with my laptop in my lap.

Your mood? - I'm sad, not as sad as I was earlier because I'm just trying to get my mind off things with this survey, and I'm listening to music. My cousin is sick in the hospital, and my mom gave me good news about him earlier, but he still isn't in the clear yet.

Did you sleep alone last night? - No.

Do you plan on sleeping in tomorrow? - Yes, we typically stay up pretty late on Saturdays and wake up late on Sundays.

Do you find piercings attractive? - I do.

What were you doing last night at midnight? - Sleeping or getting ready to fall asleep.

Will you have sexual intercourse within the next two weeks? - Maybe.

How many cigarettes have you smoked today? - None. I don't smoke cigarettes.

Do you have a hard time admitting you’re wrong? - Sure, doesn't everybody? But I mean...I'm also never wrong, haha.

Do you like potato chips? - I do. I actually bought some today, but we typically never have them in the house. I've just been craving barbecue flavored stuff.

Do you give out second chances way too easily? - I have in the past. Not anymore.

[passingideasofaredballoon]

Hey. It’s super late, but I need to write this down to get it out of my brain.

I’ve been really conflicted on which residence to choose. I know, I know. You’re like, “it isn’t that hard”. But I’m still up thinking about it. And I looked inward and had a really soul searching think. My indecisiveness goes deeper than you know, and I need to ask for some help. That’s my way of promising I’m not being dramatic about choosing a residence for the sake of being dramatic!

So, there are two residences im still choosing between. Currently I’m set to be in Douglas. Yesterday I frantically emailed to be switched into La Citadelle. Here’s the profiles, from the internet.

Douglas hall - shared bathrooms, tiny room. Far from campus, up a big icy hill in the winter. No air conditioning. Scholarship student first choice. Hogwarts. Dark and cramped. Everyone there loves it. Finds a family. Common rooms occupied with people and fun at all times. Weekly more chill parties. Good memories for life. Basically an adventure in a building that looks like Hogwarts for half but an army bunker for the other.

La citadelle - hotel style, single room with a washroom to myself. Big airy spaces. Light with huge windows. Right in downtown, getting to campus is a quick walk. Antisocial. For kids who can afford it, who have been said to be douchey and mean (but not always). At least, the least friendly of every residence. Few parties, if ever. Few organized residence activities. People left there comfortable, but with fewer friends.

Here’s the thing. Douglas Hall is exactly who I wish I was, and feel like I could be if I was allowed to be myself. Sure, there are some problems, but that girl I could be doesn’t break a sweat. She’s a problem solver, that one. No air conditioning? She buys a big fan until it stops being hot, and that happens soon since school does start in the fall. Big scary hill? She doesn’t care. She walks it energetically every day. Hell, she’s even that cool gal that buys a cheap bike and whips around the city with her full backpack. As the author, I know this about her because I can imagine her doing it in a second. NOT because I’m romanticizing her life in any way, or thinking of who she’s “supposed” to be. Her tiny room is decorated with bright warm lights and the coolest posters. It’s dirty? Well, her space is clean and that’s all that matters to her. Cause she’s not scared of sharing a bathroom with random guys. She can shower the fastest you’ve ever seen, cause she doesn’t really do anything with her hair anyway. She’s never stressed barfed at 2am in her life, so she doesn’t care how close the bathroom is anyway. She made friends with all the cool smart scholarship students she’s not intimidated by in the slightest. In the winter, they walk up and down the icy hill together and complain about it, lovingly. They hang out working on school, hitting the social scene on Friday nights, because they’re in the residence that has no one left alone on a Friday night. Because comfort is a second thought to her, when there’s life to be experienced. Everything that’s sub-par only adds to the wicked funny stories she’ll tell later on. Because she has many of those.

So I chose that residence. I chose that one, okay! That’s why. I want to live there and be that person.

But there’s where my indecisiveness starts.

Here is a secret that isn’t a secret. I was very sad this winter, and last winter too. And very very sad, last summer. I didn’t have the support to deal with it, but I’ll tell you what I had. I had a lot of damn quiet and a lot of damn space, so I used it. I know I took care of myself well, and I learned what worked best to get myself through. And a lot of the stuff was stupid, I’ll admit.

I know that whenever I’m overwhelmed - warm shower. A long one. Right away. I go make myself a warm drink or a coffee. I make sure I’m the right temperature so I can get 9 hours of sleep, or it gets scarier and so much worse without the sleep. I make sure I have a window big enough to let light in by opening the curtains. Exercise is weird. Sometimes it helps to walk but sometimes I’m so strange that moving gives me pins and needles in my brain. When I’m defeated or brain dead from doing so much work I can’t see, I lay on the floor. I take comfort in knowing my bathroom is right next to me. I stress barf. I’m used to over controlling the comforting conditions of my life so I can function and meet what is demanded from me.

So when I walked into Douglas Hall and stepped into my tiny room, the thing that made me panic most was realizing I didn’t have room to lie on the floor. I felt the “uh oh, what have I done” close in on me immediately. And the dark hallway and tiny windows? The fear of what would happen if I ended up feeling the way I have before, every year, and had none of my usual comforts to fall back on. Cause it really is scary and dark in there. And I mean, cold sweat, stress barf panic that for some reason I’m still feeling.

I was logical. I read reviews and Reddit pages and people ADORE Douglas hall when it’s lived in. It’s the experience of a lifetime for most that lived there. But even in the best case scenario, when the Douglas halls are cleaned up and lively with 170 students who put up banners, decorate their common rooms, hang string and Christmas lights and make it feel like a bright and warm home, the comforting things I may need won’t be there.

I panicked and sent the email to change residences because I pictured myself worst case scenario. I can’t throw myself into the fire when there’s a place I’m guaranteed to have the comforts I’ve always used. I promise, it’s not some spoiled luxury obsessed reason where I’m scared of not having my own tv. I just panic at the thought of being worse and feeling worse than I have in the past without a space to feel comfortable, at home, and fully able to take care of myself.

So here’s the question. Where do I go?

Am I being horrible to myself by forcing myself into a new situation that scares me to barf panic, when a safer and guaranteed comfortable option exists?

Or is it worst to deny the opportunity to have a better time (arguably the life I’ve felt I’ve missed for years) just because I’m too scared to try?

Would pushing myself into a situation where I had to be the person I wanted to be, actually be helping me become that person?

Would I give up my dream of living in literal hogwarts? For a warm shower when I need one?Will I regret that, a stupid but massive thing, for the rest of my time here? Will I be sad that I yet again missed out on cool friends and times I could have had?

I know I’m overthinking it. But this is my life and I actually get to make this decision for myself, and I don’t want to screw it up. I don’t want to put myself in any position where I feel bad, whether it’s from being uncomfortable or feeling guilty.

I genuinely don’t know what to do.

Please, could you give some advice? Let me know what you think?

Thanks,

Secret worried author

P.S the creepy guy worries me little, as I will stand out much less against 170 other kids. I’d avoid him. I’d carry pepper spray and a spiked baseball bat. It would be okay, I promise

[erensmommy]

stepdad!eren

i randomly got this idea while taking my dog outside don’t ask lol.

i wrote this at like 2am so sorry for any errors.

mentions of: stepdad!eren, stepcest¿, spanking, cream pie, slight oral sex, male receiving, slight female masturbation

stepdad!eren who meets your mom at a local bar in town. them immediately hitting it off going on dates and what not. she introduces him to you for the first time bringing him to your shared home. when he meets you he isn’t sure if he wants you or your mom.

stepdad!eren watches you closely as you move around the house in those skimpy shorts you recently bought at the mall.

stepdad!eren helps you with your homework after school in the living room. your mom looks at you two together with a smile but little does she know eren is whispering all types of dirty things in your ear.

“get this one right and i won’t have to bend you over and spank that pretty little ass of yours yeah?”

stepdad!eren who makes you wash his car for him on a hot summer day only for you to resort in wearing a tight bikini as you do. he watches you bend over his hood with the sponge in your hand and your breast moving against the car as you scrub back and forth. he even makes you go over it one more time just to make sure it’s spotless ;)

stepdad!eren listens to you talk on the phone late at night about how you wish you had someone to bend you over the kitchen counter. he couldn’t help but get a hard on while pressing his ear to your door listening to you whine about getting fucked.

stepdad!eren who can’t even fuck his fist without thinking about how bad he wants it to be your tight pussy. he’s grunting as he lays sprawled out on your moms bed pushing his hips into his fist achingly wishing you were on top of him as he tells you how good your doing.

“fuck look at you riding my cock so well who knew you would be such a slut. fucking your stepdad in your moms bed you dirty girl”

stepdad!eren who “accidentally” walks in on your pushing a vibrator against your clit. he can’t help but stand there and watch your face contort with pleasure. his pants tightening harder than before as you look him in the eyes smirking at him as you push the toy inside your tight hole.

stepdad!eren ends up fucking you on your bed face down ass up as he pounds his hips into yours. he leans back a little to watch you pussy swallow his thick girth like it’s nothing.

“your taking me so well if only you could see how pretty your pussy looks wrapped around me”

stepdad!eren who comes down stairs the next morning giving your mom a kiss as he gets his coffee acting as if he didn’t fuck you into a oblivion last night.

stepdad!eren who replies with “she behaved just fine last night” grinning at you from across the dinner table when your mother ask how you behaved while she was gone.

stepdad!eren whose cock is being shoved down your throat while your mom is sleeping on the couch next to you while watching a movie. eren tells you to keep it down as he pulls himself out of your mouth tapping his tip against your tongue before slipping himself back in.

“shhh baby keep quiet okay..now let’s fill that pretty mouth back up”

stepdad!eren who cums in your pussy and makes you hold it in while he spanks you for getting a F on your test. then watches you push it out all on his fingers only for him to shove them in your mouth.

stepdad!eren who’s fucking you on the kitchen counter not even noticing that your mom is standing in the door way with a shocked expression. what could she say...her daughter just really loves her new dad.

[wetforbritishactors123]

Omg I just read lovestruck teenagers. Please do a part 2 with a happy ending 😩✋🏻 only if you’d like, ofc

Sure thing! So I wrote this at 2am-4am and I have pretty weird ideas when during these hours, so there may be some random things in this part 2 as well as spelling errors.

But I am to believe it came out decently.

Part One is located here

So here it is

I'll Love You Forever (Draco Malfoy X Reader)

Sort of Angst in the beginning but it turns into a happy ending

Warnings: Embarrassing mother

Word Count: 2300+ words

Bold = Flashbacks

................................

You were a wreck, your eyes were puffy and red, your cheeks were tear-stained and you had dark circles under your eyes. You were still trying to get over your relationship with him, your first love. You’re only love, you thought. You shook your head, you’ll find someone else, you tried to convince yourself.

You looked at the large window of your bedroom and saw some birds sitting in a tree, the tree Draco would climb in order to sneak into your bedroom when you two were together. You closed your eyes and let the tears cascade down your face.

It was a late night of the summer before your 4th year and you were sketching away in the sketchbook that your boyfriend had given you for your birthday. You were drawing a picture of both him and you getting married. You may be young but you loved him and wanted to be with him forever. You heard something knock on the large window of your window, so you put down your sketchbook and got off your bed before walking towards your window, you carefully opened the curtains and were met with your boyfriend sitting on the large branch of the tree outside your window. You quickly opened your window, “Draco! What are you doing here?” You whispered at him.

“I came to see you obviously.” He said with a large grin on his face, you stared at him. You were so young and hopelessly in love with him.

“Well are you gonna let me in or????” He asked.

“Oh yeah!” You said as you snapped out of your loving trance before you helped him through your window.

You two stayed up late that night, talking and sneaking small pecks on the lips. As you grew tired you both went to your bed and snuggled, you both drifting away into a comfortable sleep.

He left early that morning, before your mother would come to wake you up. As he left your missed the heat he carried with him.

You still loved him and you hated it. Even though you promised him you’ll love him forever, you were loyal to the promise you made him and you hated it.

If things were different, you’d still be together.

It’s been over a month since you two split up, you thought it’d be easier this way. But you were wrong. Your heart ached for his love, your skin craved his touch, and your lips missed the way his tongue would dance across your bottom lip.

You were returning to Hogwarts in less than a week and you were worried. You were scared of how things would be, without Draco being yours. But was he yours in the first place?, you thought. When you both were still together at Hogwarts, you barely saw him during school hours. You’d have to sneak out of your dorms and meet in secret locations just to snog or have a simple conversation. And when you would steal a glance towards him in the Great Hall, Pansy and Astoria would hit on him and he wouldn’t even try not to flirt back. Secret relationship or not, he still had a girlfriend.

You turned away from the window and headed towards your closet being obligated because you were going to Diagon Alley so you had to change out of your Scooby-Doo pajama bottoms and Metallica T-shirt, you sighed as your fingers trailed down the clothes hanging on the hangers. Your fingers abruptly stopped as you reached the thin material of a dress. More specifically the dress you wore on your first date with him.

You were a nervous wreck, it was a warm summer evening and you were gifted with a date of the one and only Draco Malfoy. You were anxious, he asked you out and you were absolutely scared that this was some prank as you were a half-blood hufflepuff. But you had the biggest crush on the blonde slytherin.

Draco saw you as you paced up and the small path of the small park, he smiled at the sight of you. To him, you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. You were wearing a knee-length flowy red dress that was decorated in yellow and orange flowers, your hair was curled at the ends, you finished the look off with white sandals. You looked gorgeous.

The young Malfoy walked up to you, “Hello Y/N, you look really pretty.”

You looked at him with your mouth hanging open, was Draco Malfoy complimenting you? You thought in disbelief.

“You look pretty too,” You said without thinking while blushing,”No not pretty...I’m not saying that you don’t look good, because believe me you always look good..Hot even...Shit...I mean that you look the male version of pretty...What’s the word?.....Oh yeah Handsome!” You rambled before looking down at your feet blushing red in embarrassment.

Draco smiled as you rambled, he thought it was cute. “I’m sorry for my rambling.” You said still looking at your feet.

“No need to apologize, it was cute.” He said as he grabbed your hand, you looked up at him with wide eyes as he slid his hand into yours before leading you down the small park path.

You didn’t mean for these new tears to stream down your red puffy cheeks, you quickly collapsed to your knees as you sobbed. Your mother was down cooking breakfast downstairs and all she could hear was your muffled cries through the ceiling, your mother quickly shut off the stove and moved the eggs onto a different burner, before heading up to your room.

Your mother entered your room and found you in your closet, your arms were wrapped around your knees as your head rested in between them. Your mother rushed over to you as she heard your muffled cries, she enveloped you into a warm embrace. She ran her fingers through your hair as she rubbed small circles on your back. “Shhh, it’s okay, let it out.”

You sobbed into her chest as she cradled you back and forth, “It hurts, mom, it hurts!” You sobbed. Your mother was the only one who knew of your secret relationship with the young Malfoy. She was accepting of it, she understood. “I know, it’s supposed to hurt.” She said as she planted a kiss against your forehead.

After an hour of you sobbing, your tears had ended, and you sat in a comfortable silence with your mother. “Do you want to talk about it?” You mom asked. You nodded silently.

You let out a sigh as you began to tell her,”Every single day I’m reminded of him, the sun reminds me of how he rubbed sun lotion on my back one time at the beach, or whenever I see that tree outside my window, it reminds me of all the times he sneak in my room-”

“He did what now?!” Your mom interrupted.

“Mom it’s not important, it’s not gonna happen again and besides that we never got intimate, we only would talk and cuddle.” You said, dismissing your mother’s thoughts from her head.

“So can you tell me why you're crying in your closet?” Your mom asked.

“I saw that,” you said as you pointed to the dress,”I wore that on my first date with Draco it brought up some memories.”

Your mom rubbed your back, “It seems like you're not over him.”

You let out a sad laugh,”I’m not and I hate it. I am still in love with him and it hurts knowing that even if we were still together, we wouldn’t last.”

“And why not?” Your mother asked.

You let out a sharp breath,”Isn’t it obvious?” You asked,”Society. Who would ever accept a Pure-blood Slytherin and a Half-Blood hufflepuff?”

“I accepted you both,” Your mother said.

“You had to, you're my mother. You're not today’s society! Today’s society is so uptight and ruthless, they’d ruin you in a moment’s time!” You exclaimed.

Your mother turned to look at you, she grabbed a hold of your shoulders and looked directly in your eyes. “Fuck Society.” She started, your eyes widened as you heard her swear, “Since when did you become one to listen to the rules? This society needs a challenge, you need to challenge them. You need to show them that you’re in charge, show what you want. Do what you want. Fuck Society, you are Y/N L/N, and you are in love and you won’t let anything get your way.” Your mom always had a way with pep talks.

You sniffed, your eyes couldn’t help but water at your mother’s words. “Thank you mom, I’ll keep that in mind next time.”

Your mom looked at you as if you grew two heads,”What do you mean ‘next time’?!”

“My next relationship, I knows it gonna take a while to get over Draco but when I do-”

“NUH UH!” Your mother interrupted you,”You are in love with Draco, you never stopped loving him! You are gonna go up to him and take what you want!”

“A large gallon of chocolate ice cream?” You joked. Your mom gave you an unamused look.

“Okay, Okay” You said,”I’ll tell him when we go back to Hogwarts.”

Your mom stood up,”No you don’t young lady, you going to tell him today.”

“What do you mean?” You asked as you got up from the carpeted flooring of your closet.

“You are gonna tell him today, at Diagon Alley.” Your mother replied.

“Mom, we don’t even know if he’d be there?” In the process of talking you had a thought that seemed so your mother,”Mom, don’t tell me you’ve been stalking the Malfoys”

Your mom laughed and you really thought she wasn’t stalking the Malfoys until she opened her mouth,”A great witch never tells her secrets.” And it was enough for you to facepalm. Your mother was much worse than a teenage fangirl stalking a celebrity they were so in love with.

“Now here’s the plan, you go get all dolled up as I finish up breakfast and go get something quickly.” She ordered. You nodded and went into your bathroom to take a shower as your mother went downstairs to finish up breakfast as well as gather her equipment. As you got out of the shower you quickly changed into a low-cut blue shirt paired with a pair of ripped jeans. You quickly braided your hair and put some makeup on to cover your eye bags.

You ran downstairs and found some scrambled eggs and bacon set in front of your seat, you quickly ate as your mother walked into the kitchen. “Careful there Y/N, we don’t want you to choke on it,” she warned before she opened up her mouth again,”That’s what she said.”

You snorted at your mother’s joke, she was something that you couldn’t explain. You quickly ate your breakfast and met your mother by the door. “You ready, hun?” Your mother asked. You nodded and you both arraparted at Diagon Alley. The place was packed full of people and you began to lose hope in finding him, your Draco.

“Mom, we’ll never find him with this many people here!” You complained. Your mom smiled wickedly before reaching into her purse before pulling out a sling-shot and a bag of small rocks. “Mom, what are you doing?” You asked. She held the sling-shot towards you. “I present to you, The Malfoy Finder 2000!” Your mom exclaimed as she put a rock and began to aim the slingshot at a blonde.

“Mom, no!” You hissed but it was too late, the rock was already flying towards the blonde, it hit them directly in the middle of the back of the head. They groaned in pain, “Nope, not a Malfoy.” She declared before aiming the slingshot towards another blonde and hit them in the back of the head as well. “My father will hear about this, whoever threw a rock at me!” He yelled.

“Found him!” Your mother chirped with a giddy grin as she turned to you,”Now go kiss your man, but no groping.”

You took a deep breath and jogged towards the love of your life, “Draco!” You called as you ran towards him. He turned to you and his mouth dropped. He looked rough, bags under his eyes, his cheeks were stained with the leftover trail of tears. You ran up to him and grabbed him by the collar of his expensive suit and pulled him into a passionate kiss.

“WOOOO! THAT’S MY GIRL!” Your mother cheered, causing you two to pull apart from your kiss. As pulled apart, you shot a glare towards your mother. She just shrugged and replied with,”What? Can a mother not fangirl?!” You laughed at her antics, you sure did love your mother.

“Y/N, I thought we were over.” Draco said, sadly.

“We were, but then I realized I was in love with you. I couldn’t give you up, you’re the best goddamn thing that has ever happened to me”, You started as your eyes started to brim with tears,”Everyday I was reminded of you, the sun, the tree outside of my window, and even the dress from our first date. I thought that if we’d split up, it’d be easier. But I was wrong. I broke up with you because I was scared of society, but my mother helped me realize that society is just one fucked up dick. I shouldn’t be afraid of what society thinks, I shouldn’t let society get to my head. What I’m trying to say is I’m sorry and I love you. I hope you can forgive me.”

You stood there for what seemed like hours as you waited for Draco to respond. “Draco?” You asked in a small voice, afraid of rejection. As you called out his name Draco came to his senses and smashed his lips against yours. Your mother had tears running down her face as she saw her baby girl kiss the man she loved.

Draco pulled away from the kiss and looked at you with his loving eyes as he whispered those 4 little words that made your heart soar, “I’ll love you forever, Y/N.”

.........

Requests are open

[fa-by]

Hi, Faby I'm finally free of homework. I loved your theory on all these years. I laughed at the memes. many CS say we have a version of Camila with all these years, but we don't have a similar version of Lauren but at the time that Camila and Lauren weren't together (after Camila left the group) Lauren kept thinking about Camila because she kept writing songs based on her relationship with Camila like all night. Can you make a song analysis of all night?

Hello to you, dear @camilalauren0327 👋🏼😄 I'm glad you're free from your homework 💪🏼 I'm also glad that you loved my interpretation and that you laughed at the GIFs.

So. About All Night, I can tell you it's track n° 11 of Steve Aoki's Neon Future IIIalbum. Both Laur and Steve loved the time spent together in the studio, and Steve totally loved working with her: “She’s got so many ideas and the problem is, they’re all good. She’s very meticulous. The attention to detail Lauren has is something I don’t find in many people. She’s very attentive to the detail. She’s got those ears, she’s got the sensibility and the vision, and I’m just totally inspired to be in the studio with her”.

As for the lyrics, were already there, but Laur rewrote them and wrote the bridge from scratch. Vocally speaking, she did all the backgrounds and vocally self-produced. So the vocal production? It's hers. It was her. Yeah. She's thattalented, and people still sleep on her. But anyway. Let's move on to my interpretation now, shall we?

Verse 1:

“My heart beats a little faster

When our eyes meet, in the middle of a crowded room”

Typical reaction of when we meet someone we like. You know? Heart beating fast as Laur says, along with butterflies in the stomach, cheeks blushing, palms sweating, adrenaline, dry mouth, palpitations, hot flashes, etc., etc.

“In knee deep, testing waters”

What does ‘in knee deep’ make us understand? That it wasn't an ordinary person that she just liked, but that it was a person that she really liked very much. *cough Mila*

“I've got a feeling, and I don't know what to do”

Why? Because she knew it was different and contrary to the past, she didn't know how to act.

Chorus:

“You got me paralyzed, and I think I like it”

As I think you know, ‘paralyzed’ in this case is intended as being blocked by a strong emotion (such as amazement). Mila got her paralyzed. Their situation and feelings were so strong, so deep/in knee-deep, that Laur was petrified by it. But despite this, as I said before, this was different. Unlike anything she'd ever felt before. And she liked it.

“Caught me by surprise, I'm not usually like this, no”

It caught her by surprise because she didn't expect it. And we know why she wasn't usually like that. Because she'd been in denial all her life. Because she'd always fought against these feelings.

“Got me paralyzed, don't think I can help it”

She couldn't. Even if she tried, she couldn't. She couldn't help herself.

“Why's it feel so right?”

Why did what she was taught to be wrong made her feel so good/right? Because it was. It was in general, but it was even more so with her. With Mila.

Post-Chorus:

“Let's keep this going all night

Going all night

Going all night

Going all night”

Freedom. Without thinking of tomorrow. Tomorrow's tomorrow.

Verse 2:

“The crowd fades, tunnel vision

In a daze, and the only thing I feel is you”

Because she was the only important thing. The only thing that mattered. All the rest? They were just surroundings.

“In perfect, syncopation”

Syncopation can be a rhythm, a passage, or a dance step. Syncopation in music occurs when a rhythm is unexpected and is played off-beat. It's like, an oscillation in a soft and not stiff way. It's an imbalance and prolongation of a note in the middle that creates an effect of, precisely, oscillation. Flamenco is the simplest first example that comes to mind for both musical rhythm and danced rhythm, but syncopation is used in many music styles. From the classical music of Mozart and Beethoven, to the ragtime ancestor of jazz, jazz itself, rock, metal, reggae, hip-hop, pop, house, salsa, etc.

To give you a practical example to help you understand better, count 5, 6, 7, 8 out loud three times in a row. From the fourth time, keep counting out loud and, at the same time, use the palm of your hand or the clenched fist on a surface to hear the rhythm yourself and understand how stable it is. Do this three times or even more until it’s natural for you to keep up the pace without having to keep counting 5, 6, 7, 8 out loud. Once you've done that, keep counting mentally and hit/tap 5 a little bit harder with a little pause, and then just 7, 8. It would be like: 5, no hit/tap, 7, 8.

FIIIVE, seven, eight - FIIIVE, seven, eight - FIIIVE, seven, eight.

You can slow down or speed up as you like, and this, dear @camilalauren0327 and babies, is an example of syncopation. If you guys want, to listen and understand better, I also found this for you: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z-H6oXpF-tw.

But anyway. What's my point? Why explain all this to you? Because for many composers and producers, syncopation is a vital element because it helps them tie the rhythm and the melody of a song together. The use of syncopation in music in general, but more precisely in a song, makes the track different and even unique at times.

And now that you know this, Lauren did or didn't use a beautiful metaphor with a simple one-word to describe her and Mila? *she was so phenomenal and romantic 😍*

“Face to face, tell me do you feel it too?”

Sounds weird that Laur was wondering, right? Well, it actually isn't because this song is about the moment in the timeline they were in the Like Friends Dosituation. Laur was still in denial and therefore they didn't speak. She didn't know if Mila still wanted her or not, and most likely, it was just before Mila started her relationship with the mystery girl because it coincides with Lauren finally accepting herself and her feelings for her.

Chorus:

“You got me paralyzed, and I think I like it

Caught me by surprise, I'm not usually like this, no

Got me paralyzed, don't think I can fight this

Why's it feel so right?”

The difference between the first chorus and this, is the ‘don't think I can fight this’ here. As I said before and as we know, Laur had been in denial all her life and she’d always fought against these feelings, but this time it was different. Thiswas different because Camila was different. Hell, Lauren herself was different. The environment she was in was different. Different especially from home and from what she was used to there. Her feelings were different. More powerful. Nothing like the crushes she'd had on other girls in the past, and she knew, because she knew, that she was going to lose this fight. Here, or rather at the time at that moment, she was simply admitting it to herself.

Bridge:

“But maybe I should wait

Let it fall into place

'Cause I keep going over

The things that could come from me feeling this way (Way)”

She was having second thoughts here. Her fear took over. Fear is the most powerful tool in the world. It makes you do unimaginable things and it makes you not do what you really want.

“And I don't wanna play (I don't wanna play)

This emotional game (This emotional game)

But when you pull me closer

I cannot deny that I want you to stay”

BUT, she finally gave in. She overcame her fear by finally admitting to herself that she wanted her, and not just physically. The ‘stay’ is tricky because if it's read just like that, it only means a physical action, but for Camren? It means so much more. An example that comes to mind now is the ‘It's almost 2AM and I can't ask you to stay’ that we find in Feel It Twice. For them, the ‘stay’ is not just a physical action. It's deeper. It means staying with each other. It means staying/being together.

After the bridge, we have the post-bridge and then the chorus again (in which that raspy, mature high-note occurs on the “I cannot deny this love”, which honestly leaves me dead every time) which I've already explained, so that's it, dear @camilalauren0327. All Night is a song about Laur's acceptance of her feelings for Mila.

I hope you liked it, and, I don't know where you live, but I hope you're having a wonderful summer or a beginning of winter. Sending you a hug 🤗

For you guys, on the other hand, I hope you too are having a wonderful summer or a beginning of winter wherever you live 😊 I'll try to keep answering your asks whenever possible until I get home in September (damn places with no connection and only one wi-fi).

Always remember to be kind, to others and to yourselves. Be a good example. Be patient. Be safe and take care of yourselves. Don't let our ship sink. Keep shipping them, but please respectfully 🙏🏼 Sending you virtual love and hugs 🤗🤗🤗 I love you, babies. Always with love, F ❤️

[pridewon]

@heartsfine​ said: chiyo finds herself sluggishly stumbling into the miyas' kitchen for some water at almost two in the morning. atsumu's already there at the kitchen sink, looking just as sleepy with a glass in hand. she doesn't say a word but stands beside him, loops an arm through his, and leans into his side. he's warm. " 'tsumu, " she murmurs. " y've got a big ol' cowlick on the side of your head. " does she also try to steal his water? yes, she does.

How long has he been standing there, absent-mindedly staring through the window witht the soft ticking of a clock for only company? Probably too long, sleepy fox that he is, hooded eyes just barely able to stay open (it’s a miracle that he hasn’t dropped his glass already). Child of Hyôgo that he might be, hot summer nights always give him and his sleep schedule a hard time - thank god the holiday allows him to be a zombie without severe repercussions. And he can’t even bother Osamu about it - leave it to his twin to sleep like a log through almost anything, lucky bastard. 

“Hm?” Like a fox startled awake, he almost perks up, blinking as he looks down at his childhood friend, her arm looped into his, her weight against him like a comforting presence - it is a hot summer night, and now there’s the warmth of two bodies in the room, that’s why his heart just fluttered a little bit. Yep. Just that. Nothing else. Shut up, Samu. There are things that shouldn’t be said, things that shouldn’t be felt - and as long as he pretends those feelings don’t exist, in his book, it is exactly that. Nothing needs to change. It is a cowardly behaviour, perhaps; well, guess what. He’ll take cowardice over losing Chiyo because he was dumb enough to fall for her. 

If only, though. If only she could make his perfect plan of denial just a tad easier.

“An’ y’ve got a big ol’ mop on yers, smartypants.” He mumbles back. Ah crap. Is it suspicious, that he leans into this brief moment of respite; that he lets his head tilt until his cheek rests upon the soft cushion of her hair? “Chi - oi.” Wowowowow -- did Chiyo just try to mellow him out just to steal his water? Now that’s plain cruelty right here and there. “Oh, I see. Playin’ it cute and smooth before dealin’ the fatal blow - ain’tcha a clever one.” Kansai drawl rolls on his tongue and seeps through husky, sleepy voice; sure, he could be nice and grant her her request, especially at 2am... but she started it. Mercilessly, without taking his eyes off her, or his arm from hers, he lifts the glass up in the air. “You want it? Come up an’ get it.”

[crimsonwolfie]

Best Mistake Part 2 — Hamish Duke x Reader

Requested by @shania122600 and many more!

Prompt: The Reader (a Succubus) returns for her love, Hamish Duke, for one steamy night ;)

I haven’t proofread this as it’s 2am and i knew y’all wanted this, i kept you waiting long enough (really sorry!!) but i hope this makes up for it 🥺👉🏼👈🏼

Warnings: smut and fluff :)

Word count: 3.639

Masterlist

Best Mistake Part 1

Tossing and turning, Hamish Duke kicks his legs out from under the duvet cover. Sweat beads drip from his forehead as his grey T-shirt sticks to his hot, sweaty body. Murmuring and groaning, he fidgets from side to side, clearly in and out of sleep.

The window is opened slightly, letting the white netted curtains to dance delicately in the breeze of the wind. Hamish stirs as the breeze hits his scorching hot skin, invigorating him. His lashes flutter as his eyes open gently, squinting as the moonlight shines a beam so bright onto his face. The covers are a heap and the air is thick, muggy with heat...evocation. Hamish sits up with one hand holding his head, rubbing his eyes, whilst leaning on the other hand that holds his weight.

The room is cold against his skin as shivers run up and down his spine like a marathon. He sighs, looking around the almost empty room that surrounds him. The room has an antique tone to it; walls painted an off-white with a singular wall painted a brewing crimson colour, with an unusual tile bordering of moons, stars and other symbols of some sort lining the top of the walls. A window, rectangle and fairly big, is seen beside Hamish. With nothing but the bed, a small wardrobe, a thin nightstand and an armchair in the corner (which is covered in clothes), the room seems fairly new...cosy. It’s minimal, but just right.

Although it’s summer, there’s still a bitter coldness in the air. Not just in temperature, but in ambience. An indescribable coldness that’s descended from somewhere unknown, somewhere utterly dark and unwelcoming.

Hamish wipes his forehead of sweat, pushing his ever-growing hair out of his eyes as it sweeps back effortlessly. His crystal eyes gleam in the moonlight as his skin reflects like milk off a silver tray. His palms are sweaty mom’s spaghetti haha as he grips on the bedsheet, arching his back as he stretches.

He stays still for a second, in a sort of sleepy daze, eyes fixated on the foot of his bed. Head tilting, he quickly snaps out the trance and reaches his arm to his bedside table, picking up his phone. The screen lights up full beam, causing Hamish to squint his eyes in instant regret as he scrambles to lower the brightness.

3:29am

“Great” Hamish mumbles with a croaky voice, laced with exhaustion. He sighs loudly, flopping back onto the bed, his head compressed in the pillows. This is the second week of restless nights he’d had - and they’re getting worse each night. At first, it was only a couple of broken sleeps...you know...nothing too dramatic. Then, it developed into vivid dreams which startle him and disturb him. Now...he hasn’t slept in a week, in order to avoid... them. His body wants to, so badly...but his mind isn’t having it. And it shows. Deep, dark bags surround the sockets of his eyes as his body grows weaker and feeble. His skin loses it’s glow and his mind is scattered. Everyone who sees him notices how much he’s let himself go, and they worry about him. Hell...he’s worried about himself.

Hamish throws his hands on his face, rubbing at his eyes hard, in an attempt to exhaust himself out. He kicks the covers off himself completely, revealing his loose knee-length shorts and bare feet. His mind wanders occasionally wanders to dark places from time to time, however lately it’s been happening a lot more. And every time, it’s the same place. A dark, painful place that he wishes to forget only for the reason that it brings him sadness, a nostalgia that he cannot get back. And what is that memory that his mind wanders to? Well, Y/N of course.

The truth is...every time he’d fall alseep, he’d dream of her. Vivid, realistic dreams of touching her, kissing her, being with her. Any other person would die for dreams like these with the person they loved, but Hamish...he didn’t. For him, it was a constant reminder that he’d lost another love that fulfilled his soul. It reminded him that he would never see her again, and he couldn’t handle that heartbreak.

He would reminisce about when he met Y/N, the Succubus, for the first time. Her beauty, elegance, poise, that mischievous glint in her eye which Hamish couldn’t tell if he was turned on by it...or threatened by it. He was infatuated by her, as if she held his soul in the cage of her heart.

It’s been 3 months since he’d last seen her. 3 months which felt like 3 years. Before he met her, he felt a hole in his soul. Ever since Cassie’s end, he’d never experienced something so true to ‘love at first sight’, he’d never believed he’d be truly happy again, or that he’d ever fall in love again...that was...until he met her. It was short, too short, but it gave him that electrifying feeling of wholesomeness again. Of happiness, love, euphoria. In those moments they had together, it was like he’d been hit by a century’s worth of feelings that he had lost. Both him and Tundra felt it...and she did too.

A single tear trickles down his pale, cold cheek at the memory of her. Lips quivering slightly, he bites down on his lower lip, scrunching his eyes shut tightly. He sits up gently, walking over to the open window for some air.

There’s something about nighttime that is so soothingly calm to him, almost as if he’s free. The silence that echoes around the clearing, the darkness dimly lit by the stars in the sky, the bitter sweet breeze smacking your rosy hot cheeks with an immense feeling of coolness.

Hamish rushes towards the window in desperation as if he cannot breathe, before inhaling deeply, releasing a hot breath into the night air. His head is stuck outside the window as his forearms lean against the windowsill. That familiar scent of fresh grass and slightly damp air surround him, leaving him feeling relaxed and at ease, until he feels the panic and sorrow leave slowly.

Part of him wishes his memories of her would disappear, so he can feel normal again...feel human. Although, part of him wishes they’d stay. Because she made him feel human. She made him feel alive, in ways he never thought possible.

He stares up to the moon, smiling softly.

“Hey, Y/N,” he begins with a voice barely above a whisper, “i miss you. And i know you probably can’t hear me, or see me for that matter...but you’ve messed with my head.” He grins, cheekiness glowing across his face. “I wish you were here, you know that. Well..i- i hope you’d know that...a..anyway”

He brings his hands to his face, cupping it whilst leaning on his elbows. “I think...i love you. And that scares me...really. Because the last woman i loved left me, and i....you know what nevermind. Anyway i uh...i guess i’m just saying hi, and that i miss you...” he looks down, a sad smile across his lips, but sadness painted across his expression. “Yeah...i really miss you.” he sighs “but please...Can you just let me slee-“

“-Only if i’m next to you”

Hamish’s eyes widen at the voice from behind him, as his body whips round and jaw drops at the sight in front of him. His eyes light up, his heartbeat quickens and races rapidly. His body shakes...is he hallucinating? Is this what happens when someone hasn’t slept for a week?

From out of the shadows, Y/N appears. Her beauty as astonishing as ever and her pace is slow, gentle. The gentle breeze pushes her hair from her shoulders as it flows through effortlessly. Hamish is frozen, he wants to touch you to make sure you’re real...but he can’t move.

You smile sweetly, lips berry red and cheeks lightly blushed pink. You take in the view in front of you as you slowly take a step closer to him, your sweet scent knocking him back to reality.

“Y/N...i...how are you here?” His voice cracks mid sentence, his arm barely lifted from the side of his chest. You laugh softly at his astonishment, thinking of how cute he was and how deeply you missed his face.

“Hey, cutie” you sigh, “i missed you, too.”

“I...” he begins, only to stop and rush his hands towards you, gripping you tightly as he lifts you up in the air for a hug, your legs wrapped around his torso and hands around his neck. You smile into his neck as his familiar scent of coconuts and musk fill your senses. He squeezes your body against his, almost as if he’s scared to let go again. Not again. Not ever again.

“How are you here?” His eyes are glossy with emotion and his voice is wobbly. His hands cup your face, as his thumbs rub against the sides of your cheeks softly. Your big Y/E/C orbs locked with his own, softness and comfort hidden deep within each other’s eyes.

“I made my way back to you, like i told you i would” you smile, bringing your hands to his own, which cup your face still, intertwining your fingers into his.

“But i...i thought you had to be summoned?”

“No, well...yeah,” you whisper “but i sort of made a deal with these dumb ass kids...they give me my freedom in exchange for A+ in all their classes-“ you roll your eyes playfully

“That’s not that bad!” Hamish interupts, his face blushing at your touch and his smile bright.

“-for the rest of their time at Belgrave.” you finish, nodding your head down at Hamish, who understands what you’re about to say next.

“Oh...i see...so you...exp..?” He hints, squinting as he looks for confirmation in your expressions

“...i gave them 3 weeks before they’ll be expelled” you smirk, head up whilst looking directly at Hamish’s eyes.

Hamish smirks back, knowing your mischievous side when it comes to making deals...you are a demon at the end of the day!

“They should have known better” he quietly murmurs with a smirk planted across his face. “Well, i’m glad they gave you your freedom. Very, very glad.”

With that, Hamish strokes your face as he brings his fingers to your shoulders, then to your arm. Electrifying shocks run through your body as butterflies roam freely in your stomach at his touch alone. Blood rushes to your cheeks, heating them up with a perfectly pretty pink shade. From the window behind Hamish, a breeze gusts through the room, sending your hair flying back effortlessly. You lean your forehead on Hamish’s, as he leans down slightly to reach you. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull him down and place your lips on his. Passion, lust, desperation and pleasure coat the kiss as the world comes to a stop. Euphoria explodes in your mind as his soft, luscious lips compliment your own perfectly. Ham gets deeper into the kiss, slipping his tongue in between your mouth whilst gripping your waist and pushing it harder into his own body, completely breaking any distance between you both. His hands roam your curves and every part of your body, pushing your head deeper into the kiss. Lightly, you bite onto his lip which causes him to smirk into the kiss, moaning ever so quietly.

“You know that turns me on,” Hamish whispers in a husky tone, a light growl evident in the back of his throat.

“That’s my intention...” you hum on his lips.

Your hands leave his neck and lead to his hair, gently pulling every time the butterflies invade your stomach. Even as a succubus, you’ve never felt this turned on by anyone. And THAT is saying something...

“We have-“ he stutters out of breath in between your kisses, “-have to be quiet-“ your hands roam down to the rim of his shirt, causing Hamish to get a little too excited, “-others are here.” He takes a deep gasp of breath whilst looking up to the ceiling, then looking you up and down.

“Then we’ll be quiet.” A devilish smirk appears on your face, as you lock eyes with Hamish, then look down to his lips...faces barely apart.

Hamish bites his lip, attacking your face once again. Only this time, he pushes you to the wall, pressing your back into it as his body presses into your front. You moan in euphoria with your arms up above your head, hands and fingers intertwined with Hamish’s as he breaks the kiss, leaving a trail of hot and wet kisses on your neck. As he brings his hands down, he knocks one of your horns gently...to which startles him,

“Shit, I’m so sorry” he apologises, concern on his face as his brows and eyes crinkle in fears of him hurting you. Sweetly, you laugh whilst shaking your head and drawing over his features with the tip of your finger,

“Hey, it’s okay,” you reply sympathetically, tone soft and delicate, “you could never hurt me.”

Hamish takes a moment to soak in your beauty in front of him; the way your dark, bold wings form the most magnificent silhouette, how your clothes hug your perfect figure and curves irresistibly, the way your wide Y/E/C doe eyes captivate his soul in the way that he forgets how to breathe, your smile...so bright, contagious and exquisite. With skin as soft as the clouds above and lips as dreamy as sunsets in the heavens, you couldn’t have been more perfect to him.

“You’re so beautiful,” Hamish mouths into your skin, causing shivers to run through your body, “i never want to let you out of my sight again”

“Then don’t let me go”

“You can count on it, darling.” He brings his head back up to face you, mischief and adoration in his orbs. He stands there sandwiching you between the wall for a long few seconds, staring deep into your own eyes.

“Hey, carry on kissing me!” You huff, desperation lacing your voice.

“I can do one better” he pipes up confidently, as he begins to untie your blood red, laced top...slipping his fingers smoothly under the straps, letting them fall off your soft, delicate shoulders. As a sudden urge impulses you, you rip his top completely in half, revealing his toned chest. A low growl escapes his throat as he throws his lips back onto yours, fingers working tirelessly at the straps on your top, whilst yours work at his sweat-shorts. You throw your head to the side whilst soaking in the allure and pleasure before you. Before you know it, Hamish removes your top, leaving you in your bra and tight leggings. He picks you up, letting you wrap your legs around his torso as he carries you to the end of his bed...his lips never leaving yours.

Hamish lets you down gently, being careful to not hurt your wings, as he continues to undress you...you vice versa.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He whispers for consent, being the true gentleman he is.

“Of course. I want everything with you” you chirp “do you want it?”

“Why wouldn’t i?! You’re everything to me,” his smile speaks a thousand more words, but right now...you want nothing more than for no words. Just action. Smiling back, you wrap your hands around his neck, before snapping out of the moment,

“okay now carry on. Please.” You beg, pulling him forward from his neck. He crashes his body on yours after removing his sweat shorts impatiently. Skin to skin contact sends waves of pure electric through both your veins as hormones and pleasure flying through the roof. Your skin burns under his as he buries his head in between your shoulder, whilst slowly but firmly thrusting in. His hands search the bed for yours, intertwining as soon as he finds them. With your legs wrapped around his torso, you push yourself closer to his body, deepening the feeling inside you as simultaneous moans can be beard from the both of you, complete euphoria filling your senses.

A single beam of moonlight illuminates the room directly on Hamish’s face, allowing you to admire everything about him; the way his dimples show when he’s either concentrating or happy, how his cheeks are chiseled and his jawline is sharper than thousands of knives put together. His perfect skin complexion soft to the fingertips and his ocean eyes full of hope and life...and how his irises have a black lining around them, which follows the legend of how if one has a black line around their eyes...then they have a soul. Sure you’ve had your fair share of experience, of lust and hopeless devotion...but It’s little things like this that make you realise that love can be real...and that Hamish has truly captured your heart. Succubus’ are notorious for their seduction and willingness to draw emotion to their pray, without having to actually experience any their-self. However...every succubus has their one love, their power source for love, their anchor. Hamish is yours, and it took you until this long to realise.

Squirming under his weight, you bring your mind back to the present. His breath is rigid and his skin is sticky with sweat. Swiftly, you bring your hands to his hair and roughly tug at it, causing Ham to push himself deeper into you. You moan in satisfaction as you crash your mouth onto his with sloppy, wet kisses. Hamish returns your kisses with equal passion, occasionally biting your lip and tugging it with a small amount of force, leaving you to scratch at his back with your nails. As soon as you do so, Hamish’s claws make a quick appearance, gliding over your skin before he shakes it off and yearns control again. Due to your abilities of super strength, you manage to slip from under Hamish’s weight and flip your positions, so he’s now under your weight as you cradle his body with yours on top. It takes him a hot minute to notice, but when he does...he just get even more turned on.

You start to move your hips lightly forwards and backwards, leaving Hamish to squirm under you before moving in synchronisation to your movements. Easing into it, you both move in a delicate and ever so tender fashion, more intimate than sexual.

Hamish’s large hands position themselves on your hips, his thumbs drawing little circles around your skin as his grip tightens, meaning only one thing.

As you begin to feel the hot sweat on your body, you start to slow down, legs shaking upon reaching your climax, Hamish too. You take a deep breath and flop in his chest, your forehead on top of his. With your eyes closed, you think to yourself ‘i have never felt more alive than when i’m with him’ whilst Hamish tenderly kisses both your eyelids in pure devotion. You look up to him, forehead still resting on his, and smile. You lean forward and leave a final kiss on his perky lips before climbing off and lying on the bed, wrapping the sheets around your naked body.

The silence in the room is interrupted with the sound of rapid heartbeats and heavy breathing. Hamish turns to face you with his hands stretched out to rub your skin and one arm holding his head up.

“That was...amazing,” he kisses your nose “you’re amazing”

“I love you” you suddenly blurt out, almost as if it felt natural to say. After realising what you said, your eyes widen and cheeks blush immensely...instantly thinking you’d moved too fast

“I...i mean i uh...i” you stutter trying to save yourself, until realising that you can’t save yourself from something like that. ‘Nice one, Y/N’ you curse to yourself

“Hey, it’s okay” Hamish reassures you, his forefinger drawing small circles on your skin as his other hand runs through your hair

“I love you too, Y/N”

Your heart stops beating all of a sudden. Did he just say he loves you? You’ve never heard that before. You’ve never had someone love you - YOU before. In your eyes, you weren’t worthy of love. That you weren’t worthy of...him.

“I love you and i want to spend every night falling asleep by your side and every morning waking up to your face as the first thing i see when i open my eyes. I don’t care about realm rules or anything like that...all i care about is you.” His face is inches away from you at this point.

You’re left speechless at his declaration, but your eyes say everything you can’t say. Tears begin to drop from your eyes as your lips curl into a heartwarming smile. You pull Hamish into your face, kissing him passionately and intensely.

“No one’s ever made me feel the way you make me feel” you hush, your voice wobbly with emotion. “Thank you for being everything i wanted” Hamish grabs your hand in his, bringing your body into his for a warm snuggle. He brings the covers over you both as you nestle your face into the crook of his neck, your cheek flushed against his skin.

“So urm...was it just like how you dreamt?” You mutter curiously

“Yeah it was act...” his smile drops suddenly in confusion “...how did you know i had dreams of you...of this?”

You laugh playfully as you bring your hands to your face, covering your blushing cheeks from the man beside you “i maaayy have caused you to have those dreams...” you trail off, leaving Hamish to figure it out for himself

“You did dream-walking on me!” He gasps, eyes widening in surprise

“Hey!” You shush him with a finger to his lips “i couldn’t let you forget me could i?!”

I don’t know if i’ll write any more smut as it just felt ✨dirty✨ writing this idk, i have much respect to those who are able to write it 😂 let me know what you thought of this!

[hellolonelytorment]

Traitor theory( warring manga spoilers)

Ok so I know I’m late getting on the band wagon for the traitor theory but this like piped in my head at like 2am so I’m writing it down. I have seen a bunch of theories bouncing around and I’m going to write my own first things first I don’t think the traitor is reporting to Shigarki I think there reporting to All for one. While that’s said I can elite the traitor with this photo

Ok so this photo is when kirishaim and todoroki revel there’s a tracker. Now the tracker plays a big part but first let me tell you who I’m remitting right of the bat.

Kirishima

We saw Kirishima backstory witch is him mostly having confidence issues but that a Problem for another day. Anyways back to the point it Doesn’t make because when would he have time to Join the villains we’re shown he debating his choice on going to U.A until he sees the video of crimson riot. If he was working with the league he would have gone to U.A very quickly because it’s his mission. He also was the one to suggest the idea of rescuing bakugo if he was sort of the rogue it would be a hug no.Hence why I don’t think it’s Kirishima.

Momo

Momo is another character who could not be a traitor. One Momo is the one who made the tracker to but on the numuo (did I spell that right?) the league mission is to capture bakugo it wouldn’t make sense for them to try a trap witch doesn’t make sense with kidnapping bakugo its also just two risky to try. Momo also told all night about the tracker witch she could have like not done at all. Second Momo was a part of the bakugo rescue squad she goes with them so I’m emitting her right of the

Midoriya/ Bakugo

I shouldn’t need to explain this he’s the main character it would make like no sense what so ever. Bakugo was kidnapped by the league and he has a very passionient goal of becoming number one he also a big part of the series so doubt he’s the traitor it would also make no sense.

Todoroki

Ahh daddy issues a point of todoroki arc along with mommy issues and now evil dead brothers.

Todoroki seems to really hate his father after everything he was put through (he has a right to) if he really wanted to get back at his father he could become a spy but it doesn’t add up with todoroki arc and we saw glimpses of his backstory witch give him a Motive but he seem like he just wants to suppress his father and he helps save all might from the nomad adding on to that he threatens the thugs on what there plan to do for all might. Why would he do that if he was a traitor? Todoroki was also let of the bakugo rescue mission witch cancels him out.

Iida

He was part of the bakugo rescue mission witch elements him as well. Iida also went after stain after hurting his brother it’s said that stain and the league were kinda working together but not really. Why would iida go after someone he supposed to be working with it doesn’t add up. Iida also has A very strong sense of right and wrong and seems to stick by that but sometimes his heart speaks kinder then his head. But I’m eliminating him.

Aoyama

He’s not the traitor. I’m gonna flat out sat that. But I do thing Aoyama has a faint idea who the traitor is. He a loner and he wasn’t in the cafeteria when the press stormed in it even go into leangth that he sits alone and eats alone. So I definitely think Aoyama who sitting and eating lunch might have got a glimpse of the traitor. So i don’t think it Aoyama but I do think he knows who the traitor is. aoyama saved Tokoyami and tried to save bakugo by blasting compress in the face. He could have by all means stayed hidden in the bush and no one would have thought he was there it would have been perfect. But instead he risked it all to save Tokoyami and bakugo so he been eliminated.

Tokoyami

He is seen in this photo and he could be a candidate for a traitor but if you have read the manga you would non about his rescue for hawks witch he got like a leg burned badly or something. So I’m crossing him off the list for that incident and also the USJ and the training camp were he lost control of dark shadow.

Mineta

Yeah no, he more used as comic relief more then anything so I doubt he would be a traitor. It also wouldn’t effect anyone.

Thirteen

She was part of the USJ attack and helped defend the kids and was All most killed by Kurogiri again if she the traitor it wouldn’t make sense for her to be almost killed or try to save the students as she did. She also would know that all might wouldn’t be there She also is a very Minor character her traitor revealed wouldn’t impact the adicance.

Aizawa

I don’t know why I have to explain this but here we go. The dude littelry almost died like he had his elbow decayed away around it and ugh. His quirk was also damaged witch makes it weaker. Like why would you try to kill your spy and damage your quirk. Also did I mention he almost died (manga spoilers he not the traitor)

Midnight

Same as thirteen she a minor character and if you have read the manga you would know she not doing to hot. Midnight also didn’t know the location of the summer camp. (Manga spoilers in recent arc she mostly kicked the bucket so yeah)

President Mic

Hes a well liked side character and it would be a twist if he was a traitor but to me it doesn’t make any sense he also doesn’t know were the summer camp was I believe. I know because he mentioned the traitor that makes him suspicious but why would he draw supisciom to himself. Also due to vigilantes and what was reviled in that I’m crossing mic out.

All might

The league what the dude dead. Why work for the people who want you dead? It makes no sense

Class 1B

None of them are the traitor I have heard the theory of monamo being the traitor but I don’t think that would be likely.

Ok so now who are possibly here’s who we eliminated so far.

Ok so know I’m going into possibilities but who most likely isn’t and how I’m going to decide this is by recent events in the manga also this photo from above.

This is the moment when the tracker is reviled to the class and what there plan is to rescue bakugo. Right off the bat who do we not see.. jirou, hakgure, Momo. We already eliminated Momo so we’ll go on to who the possibility are but not likely.

Sero/Sato/ojiro/Kuoda

I’m grouping these four together for one reason we do t really know anything about them and neither really dose the audience say any of these four were the traitor it would not be a big emotional impact on us so there all eliminated.

Uraraka

I heard a theory going around we’re uraraka could be a traitor and I honestly think it’s a possible and it would make sense.

I don’t think she the traitor for one reason her parents. Ok so here me out Uraraka whole thing is she wants to help her parents live an easy life. She becomes a hero for the money is her reasoning. And I guess you could say uraraka could be bribed with money to go on the villains side but honestly that doesn’t seem like something she would do. Her fight with toga during the training camp also made me think she couldn’t be a traitor. And maybe reasoning for uraraka are weird here but let me explain. Toga took uraraka blood. Witch is weird in my opinion. If there on the same side why would toga take her blood? Simple no reason uraraka would most likely give toga her blood if needed. So I know that’s not sound reasoning but it just stuck out to me. Agina with manga spoilers there was a sense in the manga were it was pretty much just uraraka and toga fighting no one around.

Asui

I know people think she could be the traitor but I just don’t see it. Shigarki almost killed her and if Aizawa hadn’t stop his quirk she would be a pile of ashes. Now I mentioned before that the traitor reports to all for one but not Shigarki but I do believe Shigarki has a faint idea on who the traitor is. And Audi seems to be smart enough to to know once he tried to kill her that she would back away from it.

Mina

Ok so Mina is in this photo and she knows about this tracker and she close friends with bakugo. We get to know a little bit about her through Kirishima POV when she stoops a bunch of bully’s and saves her friend from a villain. Honestly that’s the only evidence I could find on her there nothing really for or against her.

Kaminari

I personally don’t think he a traitor but there is evidence on both ways. But due to recent manga events (he’s not dead but like savoy injured) I do not think he’s the traitor and it just doesn’t make sense to me why kamianri would be the traitor though we do know very little about him so I guess it possibly but I dont think it him. He might have been the traitor and later quit being the traitor.

Hagkure

She also not in this photo. I know what your going to say she the invisible girl she could sneak around. Ok but here me out the traitor had to know about the tracker. Why? All for one was prepare for the hero’s when they attacked the warehouse and as I mentioned above the traitor report to all for one not Shigarki. Hagkure was also nocked out by mustered gas she could not have know about the tracker.

Jirou

She was also nocked out by Musters gas so she could not have know about the tracker so she couldn’t be the traitor we also see her parents who are both musicians I belive. So she in the clear

So we narrowed it down so who do we have left???

Shoji

Ok so here me out I can explain. He’s the one I think is the traitor why? Simple he already serves to be the traitor the guy who wrote bnha mentioned he had a shoji arc planed out. But that’s not enough evidence so here the evidence my sleep deprived brain gather

Makes sure he's not in detention for summer camp so he can make things run smoothly. Funnily EXACTLY in the middle of the class as far as grades, not the best and not the worst. Perfect to stay out of notice.

He wasting seen at the hot springs in this sense could be making a phone call to someone.

Ok so here where it gets tricky he was injured during the summer camp. I don’t think the league members know who the traitor is. Why? In case they get kidnapped they won’t give up the information.

So moon fish could have attacked them without looking suspicious. in regards to dark shadows when Tokoyami lost control he was just standing there until he ran into Midoriya.

Also Think about it, what else was shouji doing? He knew that he could move dark shadow with sound so why wasn't he moving darks shadow away from base camp, we can see from the map that shouji was actually moving dark shadow CLOSER to the epicentre.

Also How the fuck did he not hear Tokoyami and bakugo being kidnapped?? This guy could hear bare feet on give flours up!!

When mr compress loses Tokoyami and backugo, shouji could have grabbed both, he has multiple arms, he could have easily grabbed them both. He only grabbed Tokoyami (who wasn’t even the main focus of the mission) giving him the perfect allaby as someone that tried to save them and managed rescue someone while letting their TRUE objective be taken.Another thing Shoji room is bare in case he needs to get up at a moments notice.

Quirk

His quirk allows him heightened hearing, can easily overhear light footsteps through multiple walls and floors as show in the training exercise. This means he could easily eavesdrop on teachers and all might from rooms away.

Also what’s under his mask (maybe he’s all for ones secret love child or something and that’s why he wears a mask!!!)

My biggest evidence

This poem is where shojii got his name from its a poem and re read the lines “beware the man you think you know” sounds suspicious huh.

This is my evidence that shoji octopus dude is the UA traitor and before you say the guy who wrote my hero academia forgot the traitor I would like to say this man had literally planned out everything so no.

[missorgana]

lucky accidents

pairing: geralt/jaskier

fandom: the witcher (tv)

rating: teen and up

word count: 2408

warning: swearing, alcohol

summary: Jaskier's dog runs away. He might have to sneak into a random house to get her. Needless to say, it's going to be an interesting night. (modern au, teacher jaskier, single dad geralt)

(a ridiculous meet-cute(slash ugly??) and geraskier being chaotic as a very late birthday present for the queen Sabrina / @poirot my love!!! really really hope you like this fic babeee 💖 and thank you my ride or die Cat / @inafaithforgotten for beta reading for me, saved my ass once more MWAH 💕✨ enjoy!!)

read on ao3

Out of all the ridiculously stupid and awfully humiliating things Jaskier’s done in his life, this has got to take the cake.

Granted it isn’t completely his fault. Promise.

It’s rather Buttercup’s fault, his darling beloved cocker spaniel, who’s decided to pay a visit to a random house’s garden, and house, right in the middle of their perfectly fine 2am walk, thank you very much.

Curse her loveable face. He supposes she gets her curiosity and recklessness from himself, really.

And in the end, what can Jaskier do other than try to find a way in?

It’s taken him three months to get her rid of that habit of eating just about everything dropped on the floor (his local vet probably hates him), so he’d be damned if he’s gonna lose his baby to a stranger.

Maybe he’s way past sleep deprived right now. Maybe he’s had a couple of rums in his coffee. Maybe he has no fucking idea what he’s doing.

But, oh, what a perfect time for an adventure!

Okay, if he was in his right state of mind at this point, he’d probably stopped in his tracks and realised there’s a perfectly sensible way of solving this problem, involving a fucking door bell.

Alas, as mentioned earlier,  embarrassing.

Whether it’s the daunting scenario of disturbing someone’s beauty sleep or the judgement a stranger might lay upon him from having a dog who doesn’t listen to him that scares him the most, Jaskier isn’t really sure.

So, here he is.

It took a little less than an hour for him to decide his plan of action, after about ten minutes of frantic searching, ten minutes of dawning realisation, and the rest a frantic panic staring at the god forsaken house.

Ultimately, Jaskier climbs over what he assumes is the gate to the backyard. Remember, definitely not sober right now.

It’s moments like these that leave him wondering how he ever landed his teaching job, but he  prays  to whatever gods might be up there that this doesn’t end up with him losing it. He’s too fucking passionate about that school and those kids to let it go.

But fuck! He wants his dog back!

Jaskier lands in the backyard, right to his assumption, and well, now that he’s officially trespassing on private property, he can’t really chicken out. 

Luckily, a window is propped open for his convenience. It’s an extremely hot summer night, as the last two weeks proved, so he’s in no way surprised.

And a plastic chair and table-set to jump from, wonderful!

Don’t think about the illegality of all this too much. Jaskier’s trying his best.

At least, he proves that to himself climbing in, surprising himself in how quiet he can be. Even dodging a potted plant on the window sill, he sets his foot on wooden floor, huh, those years of ballet did pay off after all.

And, yes, he took his shoes off beforehand, duh, he’s not an idiot.

But soon enough, well… uh, let’s say that’s as far as Jaskier’s plan went. Now he’s officially  breaking into a home , and he’s standing as if glued in place, staring at the living room that looks stuck in a forgotten century.

Focus!

He ponders on calling her name, or rather, whispering, but Buttercup’s familiar, frantic running footsteps get ahead of him.

“Buttercup!” he whispers, willing his voice as stern as possible for the troublemaker, “Come on, girl!”

Shakes are heard, more padding of feet, and his baby comes running along from what looks like the kitchen. He’s, like, 50% sure, it’s dark and the rum is making the world a little crooked.

Thank heavens she hasn’t broken anything.

And thank heavens he’s in time to shush her before the inevitable bark comes. She looks so clueless, but so happy with her big twinkling eyes, it’s a bit annoying.

She’s in deep,  deep  trouble for this. Can’t get out of this that easy. Nope.

Jaskier’s gonna scold her anyway, but right now, relief washes over him more than anything else. Entry succeeded, goal obtained, now it’s time for his exit.

To be honest, not really something he planned, either. But surely the way in works the other way around too, right?

See, that’s the funny thing, because it’s not his happy pup smashing anything in her spontaneous adventure, no, it’s when he heads back for the window the crash happens. Or, well, he thinks it’s the way for the window, the general direction at least, but Jaskier’s hip meets with a table, and he’s pretty sure a lamp’s involved in the fall.

That really hurt, thanks for asking.

But instead of fleeing the scene even faster, like any sensible person would do, he’s frozen half-standing, half-leaning against the windowsill, as light switches on in a room down the hall, and a voice calls, “Dad?”

Shit . Why is Jaskier drunk doing this? Why is he doing this at all?

Buttercup tilts her head at him and he’s none the wiser. He really does try to move, but then she’s running off  again  and he can’t even get to chase after her before a high pitched scream meets his eardrums.

He’s caught. 

Yep, he’s so caught, because he’s an idiot who didn’t jump out the window when he should, and soon enough he’s being hit over the head with a slipper. Best night ever.

Jaskier becomes a bit of a flailing mess of limbs, attempting to dodge without much success while Buttercup starts barking excitedly somewhere in the other room. He even throws out a couple of “Ow!”s, because, seriously, that slipper hurts, what the fuck?

He can’t exactly blame his attacker, of course. In fact, very much the reaction he’d have himself. Still, he’s rather glad the hits come to a halt when the room is suddenly illuminated, the lamp he pushed over staring at him in offense.

The gruff voice from the hallway surprises him, when it says, “Princess?”

However, he’s a little more than shocked right now, because once Jaskier blinks himself to clear vision, he sees a young girl in front of him he in no way expected to meet today. Tonight. Whatever.

Ciri, one of his students, is clutching a blue slipper, used as a weapon only seconds ago, to her chest while staring at him with teacup wide eyes.

Well, this just got a hell of a lot more embarrassing.

And when Jaskier averts his eyes from the blonde girl, a giant blonde man who he can only assume is Ciri’s father, with arms that he’s pretty sure could snap him in half like a twig, is staring with a similar shocked expression, face twisted to a frown.

Why, oh, why in the name of all that is sacred and good, is the first thought jumping into Jaskier’s mind how he’d let those arms do  all sorts of things  to him.

You absolute goddamn clown. His brain’s too busy scolding him to say anything, but turns out he doesn’t need to since his pup jumps his student happily, because she doesn’t understand the situation at all and just found new friends in her post-midnight scavenger hunt.

He thinks he might’ve hit a new low at this point.

However, Ciri frees him of her father’s scrutinizing eyes for a minute, as she giggles in excitement, and now looks up at Jaskier with such a huge grin her cheeks are bound to hurt, “Mr. Jaskier!”

Okay. Okay, out of all the homes he could’ve possibly intruded in, this definitely isn’t a worse case scenario. Luck, maybe?

Not that he feels particularly lucky looking back at the man watching the scene, looking rather, uh, furious, which is understandable.

“You know this man?” he questions his daughter before Jaskier even gets time to consider his options, and the young girl looks back with an eager nod.

He himself is pretty much frozen in place.

Kind of fearing the brick wall of a man will murder him on the spot if he even moves an inch. Practically already killing him with his eyes only. Embarrassingly enough, he finds that even more attractive. Think with your  head , idiot.

Meanwhile, Ciri’s face is painted with brief confusion, “My music teacher, dad! Didn’t you listen when I told you? Mr. Jaskier’s classes are my favorite.”

The girl seats herself on the floor and scratches Buttercup behind the ears, who seems to finally have used up all her energy for the day.

Ciri maintains her excitement, though, while looking painfully disappointed at her father. The man instantly reacts, it seems, because the glare vanishes into thin air, his stance less volatile, his expression almost… soft? 

That word doesn’t exactly fit the blonde man, but it makes Jaskier feel a lot of ways. Man, is he drunk or just horny at this point?

“Of course I did.” his student’s father tells her, still eyeing him warily while apologising, “That doesn’t explain what your teacher is doing in our house, princess. At night.”

Jaskier wants to fucking die.

He tries to stammer something out, it takes, uh, a while, only landing on, “My dog.”

The blonde man frowns again.

Ciri still has zero judgement in her eyes, God bless her, and he laughs nervously in the attempt to elaborate, “Buttercup here, she, uh, ran away from me. In here. Didn’t wanna wake ya. Sorry.”

And Jaskier shakes his head at himself like it’s second nature. Well, sort of is. If you knew all the stupid shit he accidently gets himself into, you wouldn’t be surprised.

Luckily, his (favorite) student just giggles when Buttercup licks her hand, and her father seems degrees less inclined to call the cops, so that’s good. Ciri even asks him if she can give the pup a treat, and Jaskier can’t exactly say no to that, can he?

Buttercup’s clearly in love with her now, it’s adorable.

Which is why it makes him feel like a bit of an asshole when he clears his throat and tells the duo it’s probably time for him to make his exit. Ciri’s heart might as well have just shattered in pieces in front of him.

But he’s just still pretty terrified of her father’s rather menacing figure. Note to self to not be present at that parent-teacher conference.

The eye candy, though.

Focus  on not getting arrested, Jaskier!

Ultimately, she looks to her dad and stands up hesitantly, her and the pup looking at each other like they’re being torn apart for eternity, and then directs her pleading eyes back to him, “Could I walk her sometime, Mr. Jaskier?  Please ?”

His student drags out the word almost to the point where she loses her breath, and Jaskier can’t help his chuckle. Thankfully, her dad gives him a look of approval.

“Sure thing, kid.”

In return, he gets his second scare of the day when Ciri screeches again, only for a few seconds when she probably remembers it’s the dead of the night, and jumps for a hug. Bless her heart, but he can’t help still feeling utterly embarrassed. 

Jaskier pats her back before she lets go and her father ushers her to her room, and the yell “Goodnight!” is way too endearing, although it was most likely more directed to his pup than himself, fair enough.

Well, then. He finds himself standing around awkwardly, nervously still not moving until said giant of a man crosses his arms and gets Jaskier out of his own head.

“Ah, well, that’ll be my leave then.” he says, looking everywhere else than the person in front of him, scratching his neck.

It’s almost obvious he’s getting a cold shoulder until the deep voice speaks again, “Make sure to use the door this time.”

Yup, he deserves that.

To be honest, Jaskier can’t quite believe he’s… uh, survived this. Better not jinx it, though.

“I, sir, uh,” he starts, holding out a hand for Buttercup to follow along, “I cannot stress how sorry I am for this. Seriously. If you tell my superiors about this, I’ll understand, uhm, I guess I just want to let you know I thoroughly enjoyed teaching your daughter.”

And the blonde is frighteningly silent once more, though he lifts one eyebrow, whatever the hell that means.

At last, a sigh.

“Well, I hope you’ll continue.” are the words coming next, shocking enough, Jaskier almost thinks he’s sound-hallucinating, or something, “Apology accepted. Nobody’s hurt, and Cirilla seems to like you quite a lot.”

He honestly can’t help but smile, in relief more than anything else. Buttercup barks once, and the man glances down. “And your dog, too.”

Is- is that a smile? Jaskier can’t really tell, because it looks oddly out of place with, well, everything else about him. Not that he doesn’t like what he’s seeing.

The not-so-scary-anymore man even opens the door for him, gosh, he does like his men with good manners!

Maybe, possibly, he really needs to sober up. Or eat something, now that he thinks about it.

“Then, adieu!” he offers with a little flourish of his hand, but while the pup’s already running eagerly out into the rose bushes, the blonde man stops him in his tracks with, “I suppose you’d like my number.”

There’s that familiar awkwardness again! Jaskier realises this when all he can do is gape like a moron, but honestly, those might be the most surprising out of this whole evening. That says a lot.

He finds himself stammering, “Uhm, uh, pardon?”

The giant’s already writing it down on a fucking post-it note. “So you don’t have to use the window when Ciri’s going to walk her new friend over there.”

Jaskier blinks, “Ah!” Of course, what else? He’s bordering on a thin line to delusion, truly, “Obviously.”

“Obviously.” he repeats back, and Jaskier pockets the note hilariously quickly himself.

Good, good, don’t humiliate yourself even more now. He guesses he can be thankful he’s just sober enough to not try one of those… horrendous pick-up lines of his. 

Guess the eye candy will be enough.

He gives the blonde a nod at last, taking his final leave after a way too strange night, but not before the man forms that almost-smile,  pretty sure it’s a smile, again (good God, did he just check out his ass, or has Jaskier officially lost it?) and says, “Name’s Geralt, by the way.”

Jaskier nearly chokes on his own breath.