#I know what he would have done where he could be independent or need support

[border-collie]

I get pushed out of windows and keep landing on my feet, but I wish life would stop pushing me out if windows

[houdikoo]

Lacrimosa

You never expected your apathetic husband to suddenly die. Even tho you never loved him enough to care, the general public made sure to make your widow life harder. With no interest in love, all you wanted was to finally be independent. Until you met a certain count, who just couldn't seem to leave you alone.

𝙋𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: Vampire!Jungkook x widow!Hesperia(OC)

𝙂𝙚𝙣𝙧𝙚: Victorian era au, vampire au, angst, fluff, slow burn(Ig?)

𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: (Unimportant) character death, mourning, ignorant OC, toxic social expectations, stigma & discrimination, blood, financial struggles, false murder accusations, manhandling, simp jk, vampire jk(that needs to be a warning).

Note: This is random idea which came to me. It's kinda inspired by Anna Karenina, like the time period and the style. I haven't written anything(like ffs) for quite some time, so kindly don't mind any errors T-T

The delightful cool air entered my lungs, as I stepped down the carriage. Warm yellow lights shunned from the now bustling mansion in front of me.

The trembling pain in my temples grew, giving me a sign of what was to come. It has namly been 2 months since the death of my "dear husband".

It would be lying if I said I wasn't tearful, on the contrary, I was saddened by the problems he left me to deal with it.

The enormous layers of my black mourning dress swayed in the light breeze as I moved thru the doors, stepping into the lightened ballroom.

Numerous of familiar and unfamiliar faces turned towards me. Coming here today, I clearly knew what I was putting myself thru. The so called "appropriate" mourning period; which included no social events, wasn't even half done.

Most women I have known, tended to mourn to at least a year, if not longer. Me coming here, so early will be seen as "disrespectful" to many, but I could care less.

As he, was nobody to mourn over. A man with his ego and lust had no place in my heart. I ought to at least wear black, as to respect the death.

By now, the stares turned away. Turning into whispers and careless giggles. I strodd towards the small corner where the white wine was served in dazzling glasses.

From the corner of my eyes, I saw my lovely sister, Annemarie, stepping closer towards me with a sincere yet confused glance. Sighing, I picked up a glass and took a sip, patiently waiting for the interrogation.

"Hespe! Why have you come here?" her voice calm as ever, yet I sensed the anxiety in her voice from a mile away. I answered nothing, giving her my smile and continued to sip on my wine.

"I know you never cared for that man, but he was still your husband, you ought to at least think of the consequences" she grabbed a hold of my sleeve fixing it slightly as it got wrinkled.

"And you also know, that I don't care even if they throw me on the street for me so called ignorance"

An audible sigh was passed thru the air, and I could only chuckle at the way my sister turned away from me to look at the staring strangers.

"Well, isn't it Lady Selwyn… oh excuse me I meant Lady Dosett"

The sleek smirk painted his face, contrast to his actions as he bowed down in front us. Lord whitmore was never a "pitiful" type. His words striking venom everytime he speaks.

He also took the pleasure of degrading every pitiful women in his are. Who else would have been a better target, then a newly widow like myself.

"Pleasure to see you again, Lord whitmore" I crossed my arm over my waist, turning towards the middle aged man. Clearly he hoped for a better reaction, as his displease was showing slightly thru his happy faced.

"I would say the same, but I would be lying if I said wasn't surprised to see" His stare tighten and his smirk returned. I dug my nails into my arm, it was clear where this was going.

"After all it has been only 2 months since Lord Selwyn's death"

I looked at my sister, seeing her side eye him and tightening her jaw. She might not support my ignorant choices, but she wouldn't let anyone disrespect me.

I just look back at him, giving him back the sly smile. "I'm well aware of that, but I can't quit see how my husbands death should affect my social life"

He moved back, his posture launched, clearly he wasn't expect me to actually say this. He seemed to think, as he grasped a glass of wine, stirring and sipping quietly.

I looked away, staring into the distance. Taking a sip from my glass, calming myself down. He will leave sooner or later.

I watched the over the top dressed figures, coming down the grand red carpeted stairs. Which were mostly used by high class figures, trying to appear dramatic or more "important" to the rest.

Among those figures I caught a red like flare. I searched for the source, and that's when I come to contact with red eyes boring back at mine.

They appeared brown, but a hint of red was reflected on the side. I was a bit dazed, looking to see who this individual was who bestod such unique, or rather weird beauty.

To my unhappiness, my thoughts were interrupted as Lord whitmore coughed, rather intentionally loud. I twisted my head to the side staring into him.

" I guess it makes sense, since you didn't really seem to care for the lords death" His gaze being not so friendly anymore, like he was challenging me for a imaginary duel.

"Almost like the news pleased you…"

I held my breath, but continued to look at him with a blank stare. I see, he couldn't make me ashamed, so he decided to implant the idea that I was behind my husbands death.

"Hope you didn't take it the wrong way, I'm not accusing you of anything dear" The words flow out like posing, and that sanistic smile came back. I held still, keeping my gaze on him.

He poured the last drops of his wine, putting the glass on a random tray. My sister fluffed her skirt, and grabbed me by my elbow.

"I would be carefull with such accusations. We shall get going, the dance is about to start" she spoke it softly, but you could hear the slight anger in her voice.

Lord whitmore let out a chuckle and stroked his chin in amusement. "Oh dance, right, well I'm looking forward to see both on the dance floor", he smiled and bowed down while staring straight at me.

The word "both" being emphasized more then the rest. Clearly he wasn't expecting anyone to ask me. Who would even want to dance with a widow like me, right?

I decided to keep quite and just nod to his words. Anna tighten her grip on my elbow, and guided me away from Lord whitmore.

"Lady Dosett, I'm waiting for an invite to the vigils"

I stopped and turned towards him. The vigils, I almost forgot. One of the traditions of mourning, inviting people over to "pray" for the death. I needed to throw one whatever I liked it or not, just to show respect.

"Of course, I make sure to send an invitation soon, Lord whitmore" I answered with a quick smile at the end, before turning around.

We continued on our way towards one of the doors, dividing the two huge ballrooms. We stood side by side, until the extravagant music started playing.

Within a few seconds people already moved towards the middle, starting to move along with the violin and organ sounds. I loved the ball before.

The warm atmosphere and the dancing figures, along with the smell of faint lavender and the not so lovely scent of sweat throughout the last hours.

Sadly, things changed after my wedding. There was no more excitement, with a man standing right beside, gripping my waist tight enough to make me stiff up.

My husband never loved, he called it being possessive over his "belongings". Another one of his disgusting fantasize. Now that he was gone, I could enjoy those things again.

To an extant. A widow was free, free from her family who wanted nothing to do with her, and her death husbands side who felt like a burden was taken away from them.

On the other hand, the society wouldn't leave me alone. Everyone would know me as a widow. According to most, I was doomed. No man would marry me now. Apparently, I crossed the right age for marriage and now I was "used".

I saw a few young man stare at my sister. Of course, she was young and pretty, everyone was interested in her. In this day and age, for a woman beauty and youth was her only weapon.

All she needed was to get herself a rich husband, give him a son, and she would be left alone be hima and free to do most of what she wanted.

That's how it worked, for us. I all I hoped was that she would end up with someone who respected her. Because there is no way to find love with those men.

I looked at Anna, seeing her give a shy smile towards one of the man's way. Giving her a teasing smile, I looked back at the man.

Count Ashcroft, was indeed a handsome fellow. Out of all the young men his age, he seemed least of a jerk. I looked towards my sister, pushing her forwards towards him.

She gave me a frightened look, but shaked my head giving her a genuine smile. I guess she got the clue, as she smiled and speed walked over to the man.

I was left standing alone, in the crowded room. A few giggles and glaces here and there, but I tried not to be distracted. I focused on the view in front of me.

I wandered back to my youth, the time when dreams of a life full love were still alive. I looked forward to the day I met the one for me, but it never came.

All the man around me were nothing but scoundrels. Their words full of empty promises. They say they love, but the only thing they do is their freedom of doing whatever they please.

As of now the turned more calm with elegant flute in the background, leading the flow. I felt footsteps behind coming closer. I shrugged it of thinking it was someone random walking by.

Sudden, lt the air felt colder than before. It wasn't comfortable rather soothing for my nerves. I heard a short and quite inhale from behind.

Goose bumps ran down my spine, as I stood there awaiting the unknown. I thought it might have been on of those young girls who came to give me fake pity while making fun of my now vulnerability.

"Dance with me"

A smooth like ocean waves voice said softly behind me. I chuckled lightly to myself. Well, this wasn't what I was expecting. It wasn't even a question, rather sounding like a demand.

I turned around, expecting to see a possibly underage lad who decided act cool be dancing with an elder women.

To my surprise, there stood a shallow man, black striped suit with pearly white shirt underneat.

His short hair slicked on the sides, as some strands framed his sculpted face. I moved higher, seeing the familiar red flare in his eyes.

His face was determined with no sign of nervousness. "That's not so gentleman way to ask a lady for a dance" I kept my face straight, focusing my gaze on his reaction.

Was this another one of those pranks pulled by the bachelors when they are so drunk they can't remember their name?

"Excuse my actions, I must have forgot myself while being unconsciously blinded" he spoke taking a step closer to me. I furrowed my eyebrows, crossing my hands as I stared at him.

"Blinded by what possibly?" The question lingered in the air, as he raised his hand laying if flat for me. "None other than your beauty, my lady".

I giggled, it was long since I heard such words from a man. I put my hand on his, as he raised it towards his mouth before planting a tender kiss on my knuckles.

"I rather be called by my name, Hesperia Dosett" He slowly put my hand down, but i felt his grip linger on my wrist before letting go.

"A pleasure to meet you, lady dosett. The name is Jungkook Everhart"

I thought a bit, trying to remember if I heard this name before. That's when I remembered a month before my husbands death, a man of the name count everhart took over a large state of land from my husband, leaving him grief over it with bottles of rum for the continuing 3 days.

"I must say, my eagerness is striding me wild, my lady" his voice taking an impatient tone, but still holding that charming note.

I let a audible sigh, thinking it thru before answering. "It's a dance you wanted, alright then" with that said he wasted no time putting his hand around my waist while softly leading me to the dance floor.

I felt shivers down my spine, as his cold fingers touched me thru the dress. He spun me slightly to stand in front of him as we got into position, and the music started.

I would describe this moment as peaceful. At one point it felt like there were only two of us. I saw and felt only him, the deep brown eyes staring at me with intensity and the mouth which opened a bit every once in a while.

This man was a beauty, maybe if I met him before, I wouldn't hesitate in being his partner. Although knowing the situation now, this would end up being a one time thing.

A simple dance, maybe a kiss if we get this far. His eyes made my want to stay, keep swinging and swaying till the morning.

He had the soft yet calm look on him, something I haven't seen that often. It didn't felt lustfull, but admiring?

The dance ended before I even knew it. I looked still dazed from the moment we had. I saw people staring at me, judgingly. My sister, standing amongst the crowd, stared at me confused.

That's when I realized that I was doing. Being called an ignorant wife was one thing, but getting the title of a "bed warmer" would definitely get me on a bad side.

I looked at him, holding myself from wanting to stay. "It was pleasure, but now I must be on my way" I stepped back holding up the corner of my dress.

He didn't let go of me and moved down to hold onto my wrist softly as he leaned in and whispered in my ear.

"This won't be a one time thing, meet me in the abandoned opera house tomorrow at 10pm. I wanna show my type of romance away from those cunning eyes"

I licked my lips, unsure of what to say. I didn't waste no time and turned around walking towards the exit. I stepped into the chilling air, I wasn't expecting leaving this place with shy smile on my face…

The doors of the old abandoned opera house as I stepped in, making sure to close the doors behind before anyone could see me. This place was restricted to norms, so anyone coming in here could be immediately evicted.

I glanced thru the spaces room with dirty swept red curtains hanging heavily around the stage. The dust lifted up, when I walked closer to the stage.

I questioned my arrival here, I couldn't believe a simple few minute accountant with a unknown man, made me travel to such pace at near midnight.

I sighed putting the strands which fell in front of my face, behind my ear. I stiffed as I heard slight movement somewhere above me.

I hesitated, but nevertheless looked up towards the small balcony just beside the stage.

There, in front of the washed up curtains, a well known figure sat on the railing looking at me with a delight expression.

"I didn't expect that you would come" his grin was big enough for me to see from below here, not to mention the view of his shiny pecks was almost to clear for my purity.

"Maybe I shouldn't have. Who knows, maybe you take innocent girls her to murder them" my voice flew out as a flock of wasps, even though I didn't necessarily feel threatened, I needed to make sure he knew that I wasn't some naivy girl.

On the contrary, coming here was the most naivy move I could have made. But something about him, made me invested.

He giggled heartly at my words, as reached his hand to grab the hanging rope beside him. "Well, I'm glad you gave me the benefit of a doubt".

He stood up pulling the rope closer to his body, before putting the tight clothed leg around it. I raised my eyebrow staring at him closely.

"Are you trying to impressive me by acting like a pirate?" I asked, even tho the motive was clear. He was indeed, going to swing with the rope down to me.

"It's the fastest way down, don't wanna walk down all those stairs"

I chuckled lightly, wondering why he got up there in the first place. He swung forward sending his body to slowly glide down the rope, landing a few steps away from me.

I turned towards him, crossing my arms. "So? Did I come here just to see this, or is there something more you got to offer" the question lingered in the air, as he didn't answer and instead chose to walk closer towards me.

He stepped right in front of me, a thin layer of air being the only thing between us. He was mesmerizing to say the least. The way his hair fall down like oceans waves down the sandy beach.

And the glittery red sparkle in his eyes, and his stare, oh the shivers were real. A thin smile spread over his lips, as he took my hand gently.

He grabbed the rope hanging close by, before staring at me with a wide mischievous grin. "Ready to fly?" his question made me glance at him confused.

His arms, tho they looked masculine enough, I had doubts if he could hold me. He seemed to notice me concern, as he put his arm around my waist, before almost roughly, pulling me towards.

A small gasp left my mouth from the impact. I looked up at him, my fingers clenching his white ruffled collar. I felt a chuckle escape his mouth as stared down at me.

"Only a fool, would drop a girl like you"

The next second, he tucked the rope down, sending us both high up. He used his body and swinged down towards the broken stage. I set my foot down, still clasping his shirt tight in my grasp.

My eyes which I closed a second after being in the air, opened and stared back at the man who looked at me alluringly.

He moved back, letting go as I unclasped my grasp. He tucked his knee back and slightly down, crossing his one arm in front.

He kept his gaze stuck at me, as bend over. "Can I have this dance, my lady?". His words send shivers down my spine, as if that sentence was the scariest of this night.

I felt my cheeks flush, but confusion rose within me. We did just dance last night. Even so, I put my hand forward, letting him take my hand softly. He pulled me closer, almost as close as we were a second ago.

As we got in the correct position, with him holding my waist and hand tightly to the point of blood stop, and me resting my hand on his shoulder. We swinged around the stage, at one point I heard the music from last night in my head.

The notes struck my heart, as my eyes turned tired and glossy. Last night felt intimidating, while this feels soothing. I was away from the eyes of the judgeful people around me.

I thought I enjoyed it, but now I think I just hoped I did. I stared at Jungkook, who closed his eyes as he swayed to the non existing music.

He must have felt my stare, cus he opened his eyes and looked at me. His stare turned soft, almost admiring. His lips parted and slow calm puffs left his mouth.

This felt stupid, we met barely a day ago. Dancing like two strangers at a party. And now I was standing questioning my feelings. I felt attracted to him, in a weird way.

"Last night, wasn't our first ecounter"

His words left his mouth like a calm whisper. My curiosity rose, I never remembered meeting him before. Even tho I heard of his name from my ex husband.

"A year ago, I saw you at your engagement party. And from that moment on, you become someone special to me" He spoke in his deeper tone, and his eyes turned sharper.

He stopped swaying, as his arm moved from my hand towards the back of my neck. "I watched you silently for the past year. Waiting for my time, even tho I believed it would never come".

His face leaned closer, the hand gently grabbed my neck. I let a desperate sigh, I never felt so needy for a connection before know. His words flew past me, I only focused on the fact that he waited for me, for almost a year.

Inside me, I felt he was speaking the truth. His heart did desire me, and only me. He must have felt my anxiety, as his lips met mine. The slow and tender kiss, left me feeling thirty.

He once again stared at me, but this time his eyes sparkled red. My heartbeat stopped as I thought back to a rumour I heard months ago.

A man of the name Jungkook Everhart, possessed red gleaming eyes which both scared and enchanted. Pale skin, which glittered in warm sunlight. It all made sense now, he was a vampire ladies and gentlemen.

That voice range in my head, as I continued to stare at his eyes. He leaned closer, I thought he was gonna kiss me again, but no.

He went passed my lips towards the nape of my neck. His cold breath, fammed my skin as I felt goosebumps form over my whole neck.

I felt two sharp points, grazing my skin. Before I heard his low voice call out my name, trying to grasp my attention. "Hesperia, oh my dear Hesp…".

His voice shivered, like if holding himself back. His arms stroke my waist softly enough to make me melt. "I knew you were gonna be mine, and now… I'll make sure to never leave you alone in despair".

He puffed out, my lips felt dry and my hands held tightly on his arm, almost digging my fingers thru his skin. Before the sharp pain of sharp like dagger teeth sinked in my flesh, he spoke again with honeyed voice, causing my heart to swell with admiration.

"I love you, my dearest…"

[ecoamerica]

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[idkwhatimdoinghere1655]

What Was I Made For? - Charles Leclerc

<word count - 1251>

Another day: done. Another day that had felt like it had been wasted doing your ever so boring job while you watched pedestrians walk in and out, smiling as their carefree hours whizzed by. 

You served coffee after coffee, frappe after frappe, and each one took you an inch closer to insanity. As soon as the clock struck five, you threw your apron into your locker and traded it for your jacket. 

Just as you were about to slip out of the employees only back exit, you heard your boss collaring your name. You were just going to pretend you couldn't hear and leave anyway, but there was no ignoring her when she tapped you on the shoulder.

"Y/N, I'm going to need you to put in a few extra hours next week since we're pretty short on staff and we've been really busy lately," she smiled, and the urge to punch her in the face had never been stronger. The last thing you wanted was to put in more hours of your life doing the least rewarding job you had ever had. 

"Do I get paid any extra or anything?" you asked. You only did the job for the money, since you liked to have some independence from Charles. As expected, he had offered to support your life since he made more than enough, but you wanted to do something with your life. But this wasn't it.

"Sorry honey, the best I can do is more coffee coupons," she chirped, and you wondered how she was always so cheerful and happy. It was almost envious. Well, it would be if it wasn't so damn infuriating and irritating. 

"Just send me through the hours," you tutted, not wasting anymore time in that god forsaken coffee shop than you had to. Walking back home, you couldn't help but frown at all of the people around you, enjoying what they did for a living. 

They were all making names for themselves, leading fulfilling lives and living their dreams. And then there was you, serving coffees just finding a way to spend time. 

What were you doing with your life? Who were you supposed to be? Why did you have to live through groundhog day every day?

As per usual, you walked past the art gallery, boasting creativity and colour, and the jewellery stores with glittering pieces that you wished you had made. Just so someone would recognize something you had done. 

Finally, you arrived at the safe haven that was the apartment you shared with Charles. He wasn't back yet, since he had gone for dinner with some friends for the evening.

You got yourself comfortable, taking a shower and snuggling up on the couch. As you watched a movie, you couldn't help but feel saddened by the actor's success.

They were household names, doing what they loved for a living. And there you were. Sat on your couch counting the hours away.

You just wished you could have been like them - even if just a little bit. Hell, you just wanted to be someone. You just wanted be something.

These thoughts rushed through your head for a while, so much to the point where you failed to notice the movie had ended and you were staring at a blank screen with watery eyes.

You also failed to notice the front door opening and closing as a tear of disdain and jealousy rolled down your cheek. "Hey, amor. How are you?" Charles asked, but you couldn't snap out of your darkened haze.

"Y/N? Are you alright?" He asked again, placing a hand on your shoulder and shaking you slightly.

"What am I doing with my life?" You asked, your eyes still glued to the black screen. You didn't hesitate to ask, there was no point. "What?" he asked, clearly not understanding the question.

"Who am I?" you asked, and Charles just looked at you, trying to figure out what you were asking. This was so out of the blue since you were normally a happy, cheerful kind of person.  "Exactly, I'm no one," you said, leaning forward and resting your elbows on your knees after he didn't respond.

"I just serve shitty coffee to shitty people and that is my life," you continued, the frustration building as you spoke. "Nobody knows who I am and nobody cares," you rambled, shrugging his hand away.

"Baby, you know that's not true," he said, struggling to come up with something to help you snap out of the stupor. He wondered how long you had felt like this for it to all come out so suddenly and strongly. "There's no point in trying that, Charles. I know it is,"

"I used to be untouchable," you sighed, thinking back to when you met Charles and what had lead up to it. You had worked your ass off like you had through your whole life. You tried hard in school and did everything you could to contribute to your community and others around you. 

"I used to be amazing, and now look at me," you babbled. You were living your dream, but you left your job to move to Monaco with Charles. "I threw it all away," you whispered, not wanting Charles to think it was his fault in the slightest. 

"But you are amazing," he tried to console, his heart breaking to hear you talk about yourself like this. "Not anymore," you said, thinking about what you could have been. Long distance could have worked and maybe you'd be happy right now.

"You can be whatever you want to be, you know that right?" he asked, not realising what he had set himself up for. "I'm not talented enough to be a singer, I'm not pretty enough to be a model, I'm not charismatic enough to be a talk show host, I'm not driven enough to have my dream be my job like you,"

"Everyone already has their lives planned out and are making leaps and bounds towards their end goal, and then there's me. Wasting my time and wallowing in my own self pity," you sighed, and Charles was wracking his brains for something that might help.

"You're still young, baby, you have loads of time to figure it out. And once you do, you have more than enough to get yourself there because you can do anything you put your mind to," he tried to reassure, mentally cursing at himself for how cheesy that sounded.

He hated that you had this opinion of yourself. To him, it didn't matter if you were the most talented, the prettiest, the most charismatic. It just mattered that you were you and he loved you for that. 

"But everyone else has it figured out. Everyone is already someone. You're Charles Leclerc, the face of Ferrari, the man from Monaco, hero to children across the globe. You have a purpose.  And what about me? Well that's exactly it, I'm just me," 

"There's no such thing as 'just me'. You are hard-working beyond belief, you take pride in your job, you care about other people, you're the love of my life. Surely that's enough?" he desperately tried to claw you back out of the slump, but his sweet words couldn't shield the darkness this time.

"Maybe it isn't, not anymore," you mumbled, standing from the couch and shutting yourself in the bedroom, leaving Charles sat on the couch by himself, gobsmacked. He didn't know how to help you realise how brilliant you really were, but you didn't really know either.  

A/N - I went to see Barbie the other night, and this song just destroyed me. I guess it just made me think about things, y'know? If anyone has any requests, feel free to submit them, I adore writing them!

|masterlist|

[applejuicefruit]

hiiii! i love your stories and your page. you bring me so much joy❤️ i would love to request reader spoiling her boyfriend kylian. shes a regular working lady so she saves for months so she can do something nice, intimate and yet a little expensive. he’s so touched

hii, thank you so much for your kind words, i hope you like it ✨

kylian mbappe x reader

Die for you

You never had an expensive life. You grew up in an average family, like most of the people did. You hardly enjoyed any vacation when you were a kid because your family couldn’t afford it but you never really cared that much. You were happy with the little things you had. You were grateful your family made you understand the value of life and hard work, how to be independent from anyone else, to work hard for everything you wanted. You worked in a little book shop for years now, it was a normal job for a normal person and you liked it that way. The money you earned, it was your money, the gratitude you had over that job and the fact that you were making it all by yourself made you proud and happy.

Everything changed when you met Kylian Mbappè. Never in a million years you ever thought of becoming the girlfriend of the most famous football player here in Paris, but here you were.

You both decided to keep your relationship private from the public eye. Kylian didn’t want to put you under any stress, knowing how stressful it can be being followed home by fans and paparazzi and he didn’t want that for you. On the other hand, you wanted to keep it private because you didn’t want anything related to fame and success. A lot of people seek that. Not you.

You loved your work, you loved your life and you wouldn’t changed it for anything else.

Kylian’s lifestyle was lavish.

Luxurious penthouses.

Luxurious hotel rooms.

Fancy restaurants.

Expensive cars that he didn’t even drive.

Designer clothes.

Nothing you were familiar with.

He wanted to spoil you. He loved spoiling you.

The first time you used to date he would always bring you roses and expensive chocolate boxes. He then started buying you jewellery and designer clothes to match his. It’s not that you weren’t grateful, you loved everything he did for you but you had no idea how to pay him back. You weren’t as rich as him. You wanted to make something nice for him once in a while too.

When you told him about your concern he shoved it away with saying how he loved you and the love you had for him was everything he needed from you. The support you gave him during his matches were his anchor. But you couldn’t stop thinking that it was the bare minimum and that you wanted to do more.

So you started saving some money because you wanted to surprise him.

There was a new fancy restaurant in town that Kylian had been dying to try but it was always booked and he never had the chance to make a reservation for you two so when you saw the opportunity you took it.

You saved for weeks just for being able to afford a dinner over there but you wanted to make Kylian happy.

You also bought it a silver bracelet, similar to the one he got you a few months ago so you could have a matching bracelet.

“Are you ready mon amour?” you called him from the bedroom. He was taking hours to get ready.

“One second, I’m done” he said, fixing his jacket and his tie.

He was perfect.

“You like what you see?” he teased you.

“Oh shut up” you smiled “we better go or we’re gonna be late” you said grabbing your very expensive dior purse - the one he got you for your two months anniversary.

“Can you tell me where we are going?” he said once you started driving.

“You’ll see…” you smiled.

You will always remember the face he made when you parked in front of the famous restaurant.

“How…how? What?” he said, too stunned to speak.

You giggled at his reaction.

“Surprise!” you said, both exiting the car.

He was shocked, surprised, but shocked.

“We have a table, let’s go” you said grabbing his hand and leading him inside.

You were both surprised by the majestic entrance the restaurant had. The crystal chandelier and the black piano in the middle of the room. Everything screamed fancy and even if you were a bit out of your comfort zone, you wanted to see Kylian happy and that, was making him more than happy.

“This is incredible” he whispered in your ear and you smiled.

You both got seated next to an incredible fountain that made everything more romantic. A light and scented candle was lighting up the round table you were on.

“I don’t know what to say mon ange” he said grabbing your hands.

You smiled.

“Just enjoy the night…I wanted to make something special for you” you said truthfully and his smiled soften.

“You’re amazing…” he kissed the palm of your hands.

“I know…”you joked “by the way…I have something for you” you said giving him a cute black box.

When he opened it he couldn’t believe his eyes.

“I love it y/n…it’s beautiful, like the one you have” he said admiring the silver bracelet.

“I know…I wanted us to have a matching bracelet” you shyly said.

“Thank you mon amour…I love it so much” he kissed your hands once again.

You both enjoyed the night, eating the delicious food the restaurant served and talking about your days non stop. When it was time to pay the bill, Kylian, of course, offered to pay but you stopped him.

“This is my way to show you how much I love and care for you Kyky” you said before paying for the both of you “you always do so much for me and for once I wanted to do something for you too…” you said, smiling at him.

“You know I would die for you if you asked me to, right?” he said looking straight into your eyes.

“I’ll keep that in mind” you joked.

“Thank you” he kissed your cheek once you were both leaving the restaurant “thank you for this amazing night and for being the most incredible woman I’ve ever met in my life” he said turning you around and grabbing your waist “I love you so much” he said before leaning on for a kiss. It was a soft kiss, full of love and passion, showing how much you loved each other.

“Let me take you home so I can show you how much I love you uh?” he whispered in your ear and you were already too lost in what he was saying to think straight so you let him do anything he w

[sweatervest-obsessed]

Salvia Splendens Means Forever Mine - Part 2

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

WC: 4.1k

TW: Mentions of past trauma and the episode Revelations, mentions of drug use, emotional exhaustion, blood, vomit, drinking, People hunting People, injury, swearing

A/N: idk why but this one was so difficult to write, but that means a part 3 so I can resolve the issues in the way I want to, and not be pissed with the middle bits. Also it's literaLLY been over a week, so sorry for the lack of Spencer content. I just completed my last first week of college so that was crazy.

Part 1

There was something that Spencer was not telling you. After an extremely emotional reunion that involved tears, and a hug that lasted for over two consecutive minutes, Spencer apologized to you. He said he was sorry. Now what for, you couldn’t possibly imagine then. But now? 

You were given seven days of paid recovery to help Spencer cope with the traumas he had endured. Spencer was given as much time as he needed. You managed to fuck around with the schedule, so that way you only worked Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays for three weeks, giving you ample time to spend with Spencer, while also providing him with space of his own to cope. He was an independent creature, so him needing a day to recover on his own made sense to you. But when he told you he was ready to come back to the BAU, you hesitated. 

You’re not stupid. Your PhD alone could counter that fact. But the profiling skills you had sharpened over the past two years were certainly a help. But you didn’t need to profile Doctor Spencer Reid in order to tell him that going back this soon was not the best idea. 

And he argued with you—yelled at you. The two of you had spats, and a couple arguments here and there, but nothing like this. He claimed you didn’t know him; that you didn’t have his best interests at heart. 

“It’s like you only care about what’s good for me and bad for me whenever it’s convenient for you.” 

Your jaw had dropped. You wanted to cry, but you were more so offended at the fact that Spencer had the audacity to claim you put yourself first. But you knew that wasn’t your Spencer, he was coping with trauma, and you were trying to care for him, support him.

“Spencer. You need to take more time and reall–”

“I’m done listening to someone who didn’t even show up to save me from digging my own fucking grave.” 

You ended up working that Thursday, going back to full time, leaving him to his own devices. Was it a little selfish of you to not speak to him and leave him to his own devices while he was coping with unspeakable traumas? Sure. But when Spencer spat that at you, pettiness took over, deciding that clearly he didn’t want to speak to you, so you wouldn’t.

When he came back, it was wrong. Something was wrong. Spencer was despondent, distant, not actually talking to you for days on end unless he had to. He would snap at people, specifically Emily and you. He would disappear for a couple of minutes at a time, appearing moments later when someone asked where he was. 

Which brought you to your conclusion, Spencer was hiding something from you. You knew, okay well you didn’t know per se, but you assumed he wasn’t cheating on you—you hoped he wasn’t cheating on you. You couldn’t blame him if he was, I mean seeking comfort when he needed it, and clearly whatever you were doing was just not enough. But you were hoping that he wasn’t sleeping around. The alternatives weren’t better, providing you with absolutely no comfort.

Your hypothesis led you to Hotch’s office. You knocked on the door, pushing the door in slightly, since it was already opened. You closed the door behind you once Hotch had given you the okay, the head nod of approval. 

He motioned for you to sit down in the chair across from him, which you did. Hotch always let you speak first, knowing you didn’t need the go ahead. It was something you appreciated about him. One day you would have to tell him how much you appreciated it. 

“I think Spencer is using.” It was blunt. It was emotionless. Not exactly what Hotch was expecting from you, especially since he watched as you held a broken Spencer in your arms right after they brought him to you covered in dirt, limping, injured, but alive. 

He nodded, and picked up his phone, calling Gideon into his office. Hotch had his own theories, his own thoughts on the matter, and so did Gideon. 

Once Gideon had sat on the arm of the chair next to you, you continued. 

“You don’t need me to tell a room full of profilers that clearly something is wrong with him. He’s despondent, he’s had moments where he’s an extreme aggressor, he’s been losing weight, he has the lines around his eyes—do I need to go on or did I just confirm your theories?” 

Gideon and Hotch looked at one another before Hotch spoke. “We were hoping you’d actually say he was just coping poorly, not with drugs.” 

You sighed and shook your head. “Hotch, I‘ve been at Emily’s the past couple of nights since we….had an argument.” Causing you to scoff and fiddle with the necklace along your neck. “But he’s definitely using, probably dilaudid since that’s probably what Tobias was using to subdue him.” 

“Have you confronted him about it?” 

“Have you?” You shot back a little meaner than you meant, but the sentiment still stood. 

“Well, what do we want to do about it?”  Gideon looked between the three of you, and before someone could come up with an answer, JJ had knocked on the door. “We have a cas—oh! Sorry. Sorry. We um. We have a case.” 

“We’ll be there in a moment. Thank you JJ.” Hotch nodded at her, as she exited, closing the door behind her. “We’ll discuss this later.” 

You nodded and stood up, exiting the office. You felt the eyes of the bullpen on you. But you just walked towards the round room, not a word to anyone. Your gaze shifted to Spencer, who was looking directly at you, brow creased, worry lines on full display. You eyed him up and down, a subtle challenge on your part, but nothing else as you left the room. 

“Pretty boy’s in trouble…” Derek smirked slightly, nudging Reid with his shoulder. But Reid just shot him a look before getting up and walking towards where you were. 

None of them had really seen you act like this. Something was wrong, and everyone knew it. You hadn’t had flowers on your desk for almost a week, there was no humming from your lips, and you were out the door right as the clock hit 5, not saying your usual goodbyes. 

Right as Spencer sat down in his usual seat, he went to speak, your name on his lips, everyone else entered. Another case, another excuse for you to not talk directly to him for the next thirty minutes. 

People were hunting people.

You, like most other public school kids in America, had read Richard Connell’s The Most Dangerous Game, leaving you scared and questioning the real morals of humanity, only slightly boosting your own ego thinking of all the ways you could survive. Most kids had not taken the short story as an instruction manual, but apparently these two brothers did. 

The past few days apart have taken a toll on Spencer. He didn’t mean to push you away, except that he did, and the more guilty he had felt about it, the worse he felt. You were kind, and brilliant, and so caring, and pushing you away was the easiest answer. He didn’t mean to say that to you. He knew why you were told to stay back at the house, knowing you could have lost your job–but he wondered why you didn’t fight for him, he would’ve fought tooth and nail to be the first one to get to you, so why didn’t you?

But when you volunteered first to go into the woods where you could get shot through the heart with an arrow instead of checking the boy’s family home, he knew he was fucked, and some sick and twisted part of him thought he deserved it. 

You were just sick and tired of not being treated properly. You missed him, you really did. But if he was going to keep acting like this, if he was going to keep using, then he needed to make the executive decision about you both. It fucking killed you, but god damn if you weren’t the stubborn type. Spencer was just not used to being on the receiving end of it. 

When Spencer had heard that both of the brothers had been killed, he was relieved, regardless of the trail of bodies left behind, because you were still okay. Even if you didn’t want anything to do with him anymore, you deserved better.

Hotch had followed your wishes, and gave you a separate hotel room, letting the team know that this really was a breaking point for you. When the whole team, sans you, returned to the police station, his blood pressure rose and it took everything in his power to remain calm, only being able to focus once Hotch had mentioned you wanted to go shower and change your clothes—you had received the heavy end of blood on your clothes, graciously donated by the eldest of the two brothers. 

Reid nodded, excusing himself. What if you were hurt and you didn’t even tell him, or anyone for that matter. What if you were just bleeding out on the floor of your shower, in a hotel room, all alone? The spiraling didn’t stop until he found himself at your hotel room door, unable to knock.

You had quickly made your way back to your hotel room, not wanting to deal with the attention you might have received for the gash in your arm. The blood blended nicely with the rest of the blood that had seeped into your once blue shirt, so no one was any wiser. The shower you had taken had helped a little bit, but now you had a major cut down the side of your inner arm, and bandaging it was good enough, for now. 

The bed was not comfortable enough for your liking, but it was good enough to lay on and stare at the ceiling, questioning all of the choices you had made up until this moment. Ignoring the pain in your arm, you just laid there. 

You were exhausted. Your relationship was exhausting. Your whole life was exhausting, and honestly, it would just be better if you took a moment to fall asleep and then just never wake up. 

But life had other plans. 

Spencer finally knocked on your door.  

You knew it was Spencer by the way he knocked. Short, quick, but in the same pattern he always had. 

“It’s unlocked.” You yelled, not moving to stand up from your location on the bed. It was unlocked because you wanted him knew he would show up. An aerial view might have rivaled Fuseli’s Nightmare, but instead of the luscious red drapes and printed silks, you were in a mediocre hotel room bed. The damp hair, the wounded arm, the distressed sheets framing your carelessly tossed body–it was the definition of a modern renaissance painting. 

Spencer slowly came into the room and closed the door behind him. 

“Spencer. What can I help you with?” You didn’t even look over at him, voice flat. 

“You didn’t come back to the station s-so I wanted to c-check in on you…”

“I’m fine.”

“Your arm–”

“--Is fine.” Your voice was sharp, cutting him off. 

“Are you–’

“Sure? Yes.”

“You haven’t been home in a couple of days…”

You scoffed as he said the word home. You knew he was standing near the edge of the bed, willing you to look at him. You felt him standing there, you heard the desperation in his voice. 

“What did I say?” 

“Spencer. I’d really rather not dance around whatever it is that’s been going on with you because I’d hope that you’d love me more than that, and if not, then at least you would have respected me enough.” You went to sit up, but winced as you put pressure on your arm. You should be glaring at him, and your face was definitely communicating that, but your eyes were soft and caring, like they always had been. You could never hate him, but you definitely required an apology for his previous behavior. 

He sighed and rubbed the palms of his hands in his eyes. “It’s complicated y/n.” 

“Enlighten me then.” You sat all the way up, hands clasped together, in your lap. “Please, tell me what is so complicated.”

“What were you doing in Hotch’s office before this whole case started.” He blurted out, hands fidgeting, eyes looking into yours. 

“Why do you want to know?” 

“Because if you said something—anything to Hotch about the whole coping thing, I could lose my job.” 

“Is there a reason your coping would make you lose your job?” 

Spencer’s face twisted into something unrecognizable. His hand started twitching, he started to itch his arm. 

“You’re surrounded by profilers Spencer. And we know you’re hiding something. I know you’re hiding something. And I wish you—god Spencer you just pushed me away and I wish you would Fucking talk to me instead of the fact that you’re clearly coping in an unhealthy way—when’s the last time you actually slept? More than thirty minutes?” 

Spencer licked his lips, staying silent. 

You scoffed. “That’s what I thought.” You stood up, almost toe to toe with Spencer. God you missed him. Your body almost started to lean into his, wanting to kiss him, wanting to hold him, but you just walked around him, careful not to let him touch you at all. You grabbed your coat and wallet, and slammed the hotel room door shut. 

Derek had just opened his door, leather jacket on, sunglasses on his head. “You look like you need a drink sweetheart.” 

“You should be a profiler.” You snorted, pulling your coat on. 

“Your arm–” 

“--Is fine. Jesus Christ.” You started to walk but stopped and turned around, eyebrows raised. “Are you going to join me or what Morgan.” 

Derek gave you a mini salute and followed you as you walked down the stairs. 

You two ended up in some local townie bar, opposite sides of the booth. You had ordered a shot of tequila before getting something you can slowly sip on. 

“Wanna talk about it?” 

You rolled your eyes and took a sip before sighing. “He hasn’t spoken to me one on one in a week, and the first thing he said to me was asking if my talk with Hotch before this case was about him. Not how are you, not even an ‘I miss you’, he just pointed out that I haven’t been home like no shit Sherlock, I know I haven’t been home.” 

Derek nodded and took a sip of his drink. 

“I just—honestly, can we talk about anything else right now? I really don’t want to think about it right now.” 

Derek smiled at you, putting his beer down. “So JJ is one hundred percent seeing that detective from New Orleans.” 

You laughed and nodded. “Acting as if we can’t hear her when she takes phone calls from him. It’s ridiculous..”

Derek was a godsend. He had seen you in the hallway, slamming the door, and knew you had needed someone to go out drinking with. He distracted you, pulling topics out of his ass just to help you keep your mind off of Reid. He even helped you walk back, not that you were blackout, but walking in a straight line was not your strong suit at the moment. Once he had made sure you had made it into your room, and we’re settled on the bed, he knocked on Spencer’s door. 

Reid opened the door, slightly confused as to why Morgan was knocking on his door at 2 am. “Yeah?” 

“Fix this. Whatever it is that’s going on…” Derek felt bad for Reid, he really did, but he was not about to condone whatever shitty behavior Reid was on right now. “I’ll see you in the morning, pretty boy.” And with that, Derek placed your room key in Spencer’s hand, and then went into his own room.

Spencer stared at the key, not really sure what to do, but eventually he found himself opening your door, and called out your name. 

You were draped dramatically over the toilet, a renaissance painting if you would. You let out a groan, regretting the last two shots of….something you don’t really remember. You heard Spencer toe off his shoes and make his way into the bathroom. 

“Oh honey…” he whispered, sitting down next to you. 

“I’m so mad at you.” You whispered into the toilet, clearly too drunk to let your filter cover anything you felt. “Like.” You hiccuped and groaned. “You called me a whore in front of all my friends, knowing it wasssn’t true..and then after a week of me”–another hiccup and groan again– “helping you and holding you….you push me away like you don’t even love me.” 

If Spencer could see your face, your eyes would have melted him on the spot. But he didn’t need to see your eyes to hear your voice crack. 

“I’m sorry sweetheart.” He whispered, hesitantly putting a hand on your back, rubbing his thumb up and down.  

“That feels good but I’m still mad.” You grumbled. After a quick inhale, “No.” 

“No, what?” 

“No, I'm gonna throw up. Fuck. Oh god I hate it Spence it tastes so gross. No no no.” You mumbled, sitting up on your knees, forehead on your arms as you coughed into the toilet. 

Spencer sat up with you, kissing the back of your head, fully rubbing your back. “It’s okay baby, it’s okay. Let it out.” 

“Shut up. No.” You mumbled, the pet name making your head even more dizzy than before. “I refuse to vomit.”

You kept coughing, doing your best to not vomit, really really trying so hard. 

Spencer cooed your name. “The sooner you throw up, the better you’ll feel.” 

“That sounds like a lie the government made up.” You grumbled into the toilet.

Spencer laughed at you, still rubbing your back. 

“God you probably think I’m so fucking ugly.” 

Spencer shook his head, forgetting you couldn’t see him. “No. No. I promise baby. I still think you’re the prettiest FBI agent on the planet.” 

“Is there some CIA agent I need to worry about?” You joked before shaking your head. “Don’t look at me Spence. I’m gonna vomit and it’s gonna be so ugly and you’ll never ever want to kiss me ever again.” 

“Okay well that’s not true.” 

“Promise me you want, wait no, won't watch.” You mumbled, your breaths becoming shorter. 

“I promise, I promise.” He rubbed your back as you vomited, absolutely breaking his promise, making sure you didn’t choke or pass out or worse. 

Once it was over you let out a groan. “Mother fucking Christ. My mouth tastes so bad.” 

Spencer flushed the toilet for you and handed you some toilet paper for you to wipe your mouth with. “Thank you.” 

Spencer kissed your head again. 

“I’m sorry I haven’t been home.” You mumbled, resting your head on your arms, face in the toilet bowl again. “It just feels like you didn’t want me home.” You whispered, and if not for the echo of the toilet bowl, Spencer was almost certain he wouldn’t have heard you. 

“I always want you home.” He kissed your head, reaching for one of your hands to make you look at him, causing you to tilt your head, still laying your head on your arms. 

“Full disclosure?”

Spencer nodded at you, kissing your hand. 

“No Spence, I need to hear you say it.” 

“Full disclosure.” 

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on or are you going to make me make you admit to me what’s been happening.” You sighed. 

Spencer looked down, fiddling with your hand, staying silent. 

“I did talk to Hotch about you.” 

He looked up at you, eyes mixed with emotions flashing between hurt, shame, embarrassment, but you saw a moment of relief, an exhale, somewhere in there. 

“He and Gideon have their own theories about it, Spence but ...whatever it is, I want you to come to me, I want you to talk to me about it. I’m only going to leave if you push me away.” 

“When Tobias would, uh, appear…” you nodded, letting him continue. “He would uh, he would…” 

“Dilaudid?”. 

Spencer nodded. 

“You know you’re—please hold.” You mumbled, and you started coughing again. 

“What did Morgan give you, my god.” He mumbled. 

“I drank of my own accord thank you very much.” You grumbled, not exactly thrilled at your predicament either. 

Spencer pursed his lips. 

Tobais Hankel had a gun to his head, ready to end his life, and all Spencer could think about was you. Your face, your hair, your hands, your lips, you. In his last moment, he didn’t want to see Hankel, he wanted to see you. 

But then he saw the flashlights, heard the rustling, and you were coming to him. God he couldn’t wait to be in your arms, he couldn't wait to sleep in your arms. 

He quickly overcame Tobais, snatching the gun from him, and eventually shooting him. He heard Hotch’s voice, he heard the running, he heard Tobais as he died in front of him, but he couldn’t hear you. 

The team helped him up, helped him walk away, but why weren’t you with them? The cars were empty, no one inside of them. The only answer he had received from hotch was that you had been ordered to stay behind but why didn’t you fight for him? 

Only when the car pulled up to the police station did he watch as you shoved your way through the doors and some officers, eyes scanning quickly across the three black SUVs, not knowing which one he was in. 

Your hand never left your neck, breathing quickly, analyzing all of the faces that came out of the cars, watching and hoping they would have him. He watched as you became more and more anxious, not seeing his face. 

Suddenly, Gideon opened the door for him, and helped him out the car. Blood stained his pants, dirt covered half of his body, and he was sure he smelt like fish guts and death, but the way you whispered “oh thank god” when you saw him, made him feel a million times lighter. 

Your arms were around his torso right as he heard the car door slam shut, causing him to jump at the contact and the noise. He felt the tears coming to his eyes, and your tears on his chest. 

“I watched you-you…” You whispered, holding him tighter, as if letting him go meant he would disappear forever. 

“I know, I know. I lo–”

“Spencer?” Your eyes were scanning his face. “You went quiet on me.” 

His eyes snapped back to you, feeling the cool tile beneath his hand as he exhaled. “Sorry. Just…thinking.”

“That’s never been too hard for you before.” You snorted, giggling at how absolutely hysterical you were. 

Spencer rolled his eyes. “Thanks sweetheart.” 

“You’re so welcome Spence.” 

He watched as your eyes started to close, body slumping as you struggled to stay conscious. 

“Let’s get you to be yeah?” 

You mumbled something he would only assume was “no” and peeled your head off of the toilet anyways. 

Getting you to abandon the toilet and back into your bed was one of the hardest things Spencer Reid has ever accomplished. The bed was way too warm, and not as cool as the tile floor, causing you to mumble profanities at him the whole time, fighting against his help. You also were starting to doze off, meaning Spencer couldn’t fully walk you to bed, causing you to grumble even more at the fact that you had to be standing, and moving. 

Once you were horizontal on the correct surface, Spencer went to speak to you, but you were no longer conscious, drifting off to sleep the second your head hit the pillow. 

He kissed your forehead, and headed towards the door, a smile on his face as he heard you mumble those three little words. 

“I love you too.” He whispered back, turning off the lights and closing the door behind him. 

Maybe all of this wasn’t irrevocably damaged, maybe he wasn’t irrevocably damaged, and maybe, he could fix this. 

Next Part

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

A/N: no one has ever wanted to be tagged in my work before so I’m HONORED. Im absolutely willing to add more people to be tagged in this mini series if anyone else wants to be! but this is for you girl boss &lt;3

@raely-study

[snowyh2o]

Look, all I’m saying is that if Alastor was really just after manipulating Charlie like putty in his hands, he could’ve done so much more during their walk to Cannibal Town than just stand there bored. Instead of trying to break up Charlie’s relationship with Vaggie and paint himself as the “only voice of reason”, he takes her to Rosie to get her issues sorted and cleans his monocle.

Yeah sure, part of that is because has no interest in someone else’s love life but also. It’s not that hard to pretend to be interested? Offer some affirming hums here and there. Say something like “oh I completely understand where you’re coming from, Charlie. Why if she was lying about something as big as this, what else could she be hiding from you?”. Play into her insecurities, drive a wedge between Charlie and her biggest support. And even if it goes nowhere, and they mend their relationship, it’s not like Alastor wouldn’t be saying anything Charlie isn’t already subconsciously thinking. He could even play it off as “concerned friend”! There’s no reason not to have said something, if that was ever his goal in the first place.

Instead he indirectly helps Charlie work through her conflicting emotions and mends their relationship by way of introducing her to Rosie, someone Alastor must know is big on romance and offers phenomenal relationship advice if only through second hand exposure of having known her for so long.

Just like how Alastor doesn’t need her soul, Alastor doesn’t need “complete control over Charlie’s actions”, he doesn’t want a doll to puppet around, or to have her emotionally vulnerable and isolated. What he needs is Charlie to be supported, stable, and capable of making her own decisions, acting independently, and standing up against those that would oppress her. A mindless doll who can’t act on her own is worthless to Alastor.

Alastor says “[Charlie’s] filled with potential that I could guide”. And while he says it in a sinister way, while he’s clearly scheming something, I think he’s being honest about wanting to be the one to help Charlie reach her full potential. Whatever that potential may be, and why he wants to achieve it remains to be seen.

(But assuming Lillith is the one holding his leash, and he’s hoping Charlie will be the one to break it, then he’d need Charlie to be capable of standing on her own against her own mom, the person she’s closest to and has looked up to her whole life. She might have to do that regardless, considering where the season ended.)

[ecoamerica]

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

[celluloidbroomcloset]

(Final part, I swear. Others are here, in order: Part I, Part II, Part III.)

Izzy only rarely interacts with Ed after the murder, and there's good reason for that. They ultimately cannot exist in the same space; there is too much underlying toxicity, too much co-dependence, and too much physical and emotional pain. But Izzy does interact with Stede, in ways that would have been impossible in Season 1.

Like the crew, Stede is the one to make overtures, and I do agree with other commenters that his attention to Izzy, while not condescending, is more about Izzy's needs than his own. Their first major interaction post-Ed's resurrection is when Stede tells him that "Blackbeard said you taught him everything he knows." We know that Stede doesn't call Ed "Blackbeard," but that Izzy has previously been adamant that he "serves Blackbeard." Just as he does with the rest of the crew, Stede wants to draw Izzy out by meeting where he needs to be met. Izzy isn't going to respond to Stede saying that he finds value in Izzy's skills, but he will respond to the idea that Blackbeard has said they're valuable.

Stede's entire ethos, as I remarked, is about supporting others for who they are and who they want to be, not about putting them into a category that he, or anyone else, defines. Izzy is going to be Izzy, and Stede shows that he values Izzy's abilities - all the things, in fact, that make him who he is, now that he has started to shed the toxic masculinity that shrouded him. Stede looks to Izzy for approval in firing a gun and using a sword, he proudly notes that he "did a punch!" These are of value to Stede too - they are enabling him to become more of the man that he wants to be, for himself and for Ed. (There's a lot to be said about Stede's morphing relationship to his own masculinity, but in Season 2 he's fully integrating elements of piracy with his own softness and gentleness, not remaining static but also not trying to become someone he isn't, at least until "Man on Fire.")

Stede's tacit acceptance of Izzy as a member of the crew, in a way that he was never a member in Season 1, is part of what helps Izzy open up more. He's able to spend time with Stede outside of Ed. He stops seeing Stede's fluid and softer masculinity as shameful and begins to see it as positive and even powerful, something that makes Ed happy and that Izzy himself could actually learn from.

Izzy has lived for Ed to the exclusion of all other people, including himself, and that kind of co-dependence is always going to become toxic. It should be noted that Stede himself is not living for Ed; his existence is not about reinforcing Ed's identity or Ed's desires, he does not define himself based on Ed (honestly, there's a whole developmental arc with that going on too, but I'm not going into that here). Izzy has done exactly that, and it has harmed them both - it is a toxic relationship because Izzy quite literally can't exist outside of Blackbeard, as he himself admits in his final scene.

Izzy's final and most meaningful externalization of his identity, independent of Ed, is Calypso's birthday. Again, it should be noted that a good bit of this arc involves "acceptable" external presentations of masculinity. If Stede's outward presentation was repellent to Izzy in Season 1, he's beginning to see its value in Season 2 - Stede has survived, he's crafted a family for himself out of love and acceptance, he's found love with a man he cares for. Ed himself, Izzy's admitted "other half," has found safety and healing in Stede and in the entire ethos of the Revenge, which has now twice saved his life. Toxic masculinity is a threat to health and survival.

Izzy admits to being curious about Wee John is doing when he's dressing as Calypso, prompting Wee John to go into his discussion of a "look." I do think it's important that this discussion has nothing to do with Ed or how Izzy wants to look to Ed himself. It's about Izzy slowly discovering the options he has for self-presentation, irrespective of his sexual identity, and asking for help in doing so from another queer man.

Izzy's drag look allows him to integrate his queerness, and the softer masculine ideal presented initially by Stede and embodied by the rest of the crew, with the rest of his persona. He still wears his regular outfit, with some accents including a flower, but Wee John has done his makeup, including eyeliner, blush, and lipstick. Izzy embraces this externalization of his masculinity and his queerness, and just as importantly, it is embraced by the crew. No one laughs at him or mocks him. His moment of discomfort at his entrance soon gives way to joy. Stede starts smiling, Fang applauds, and Ed raises his glass. The crew dances; Stede and Ed are even about to, as the song crescendos and Izzy lets go of his toxicity. It is a moment of release; Izzy smiles, he laughs, he becomes the center of attention not just of one man but of an entire group of people who have embraced him and helped him to become "the new unicorn." Izzy's masculinity is not in question; he can wear makeup if he wants to, he can dress as he wants to, he can sing if he wants to, and he will not be judged, shamed, or rejected. It does not make him less of a man.

It is important as well that this episode leads into Stede and Ed's first time having sex, and that this scene occurs in tandem with Izzy singing "La Vie en Rose." Izzy, who in "Art of Fuckery" is so horrified at the idea of Ed being penetrated by a foppish man, provides the soundtrack for their love. He'll later joke about it, both in the morning after and with Ed at the Republic of Pirates: "You know what I did this morning, bright and early?" "Made your boyfriend blush?" No longer are words like "boyfriend" to be spat out with venom, and no longer is penetration violent, denigrating, or shameful ("It's good to see that it's not only the ship that has been well and truly...docked."). He encourages Ed to let go of his leathers, if it makes him happy, much as Izzy himself let go of his toxicity. Izzy has also stops basing his existence on Ed's. He empathizes with Stede, admitting that he now understands why their relationship works and that it is worth fighting for.

In the end, it is a remarkable arc, treated with sensitivity and complexity, that neither excuses Izzy nor shames him. He does need someone to live for and die for, but it can't be a single person - it is really about piracy itself, for the crew to live on, for the spirit to survive against all odds. Izzy is still a pirate; it is still integral to his identity and it's the reason why his death, while not unavoidable, is a natural outcome for his character. His life has been about piracy, and he finds his acceptance in the love of the crew. Where Prince Ricky wants Izzy to turn on them, Izzy proclaims that he'll happily die for them. They might outlive Izzy's body, but he ensures that their - and his - spirit will "last throughout your entire fucking empire."

[hjemne]

I could go on for years and years about Knives in Trimax, but THIS makes me physically unwell. Knives was the one who was constantly worrying that humans weren't going to accept him or Vash, and he was the one who first raised the question of becoming friends with humans, not Vash. When he asks Conrad (the second human he's ever met) what he thinks of him and Vash, there is a genuine fear of being rejected and is so relieved by Conrad's answer he cries. Knives is the sensitive, emotional child who needs the support of Vash, Rem and other humans to feel like he has a place in the world.

Conrad says if they can love someone with their whole heart, they'll be able to work and live together, but then what happens immediately after?

Knives and Vash discover Tesla. She is the only other Independent like them, and humans treated her like a science specimen and experimented on her body fell apart and she died horribly. Knives is 1 year old, and he's having to process THIS, knowing he can no longer trust any adult around him. Knives - again, remember he's the sensitive one - faints and Vash says he wishes he had also been able to cut himself off from the agony of the realisation too.

I absolutely adore that bottom panel of Knives' hope that they can coexist being stripped away. The boy he was just is not compatible with the world he finds himself in and this is the foundation of his adult self we see throughout the rest of Trimax.

With Knives unconscious, the focus then shifts to Vash who has the chance to confront Rem. It's incredibly significant that Knives is not part of that conversation and never lets himself be emotionally vulnerable around Rem again to have a similar talk with her where he might have been able to process his feelings like Vash did.

Vash actually tries to stab himself with a knife (and there's metaphors in that for someone else to unpack) and Rem prevents him, injuring herself in the process. Vash then turns against Rem and tries to kill her, severely wounding her and saying he won't shed a single tear for her before suddenly becoming overwhelmed by remorse and rushing to save her. Vash, who had been refusing food, then finally starts to eat as Rem tells him he's got a blank ticket to the future and not to throw his life away because there are good people out there. Only after Rem and Vash have come to this truce / understanding does Knives wake up.

He has realised that Rem not only knew about Tesla, not only kept her a secret, but was also involved in her abuse. He goes from having a heart absolutely bursting with love and hope, to learning that even the person he loved was capable of unspeakable violence against his kind. His childhood, his dreams, his support is all taken from him, and when Vash seems to forgive and forget, he's also cut off from the one person who could fully understand him. He either genuinely forgets or (what I think is more likely) pretends to have no memory of the discovery. This is where Knives is separated from both Vash and humans, and this is the point where he starts on his path of no return.

KNIVES was the one who loved humans, who was deeply deeply upset at the thought of not being accepted by them. When he finds Tesla, he realises he and Vash can never be fully accepted or fully safe, and his actions are driven from this (justified) fear of what people will do to him if they find him. But he knows he is stronger and smarter than humans, he knows that he has the power and ability to protect himself, Vash and future Independents from suffering Tesla's fate. Knives was and is right about humans posing an existential threat to Plants, both dependent and independent, and his decision to crash the ships was not done out of malice but terror. Knives NEVER took the first shot. If Tesla hadn't been murdered, I really, really doubt he would have turned out the way he did.

[lostdreamr-blog1]

Outrun the Future - G.Cleven Ch 4

Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3

Ch 4

The group was quickly hauled off into interrogation, leaving little to no time to process what happened. It was the same routine with every mission, never deviating no matter the number of remaining pilots. Marley learned early on that she needed to turn off her emotions until after all the facts were given. There was no time for tears in the middle of a war.

The interrogation room was built for teams of men. With the B-17’s holding 10 crew members, the tables had enough seats to accommodate them. So, when each P-51 pilot went to their own table, it showed the others how small they appeared. They often overlooked the fragileness fighter pilots can be when their planes prove to be some of the more superior ones in the sky. But seeing the individual pilots surrounded by no one but themselves, pity almost seemed to be thrown at them.

Bucky stood with his back against the wall, near the table his sister was at. None of them knew what their mission was, but clearly something went wrong for three pilots to not return. He needed to know why for a few reasons. One, to relay to the boys’ changes from the enemy that could impact their future missions. And two, to know how bad it is when his sister gets sent off. The constant battle between Major and brother was soon becoming an issue.

He stayed close by as she started recalling the details of the mission, providing support while staying out of her way. She had made it clear this morning when leaving without informing him, that she was her own person who didn’t need the support of her brother to get through tough situations. But he planned to be there in case the independence faltered.

Listening to the way Marley talked, it worried him with how different she was. Gone was the cheerful and free-spirited sister he had grown up with. In her place was a level-headed soldier who could recite facts about a mission that got three of her teammates taken or killed.

Before he could dwell on the change too long, she was done with her part of the interrogation and stood up to leave. If she was surprised to see her brother standing close enough to hear, she didn’t show it. Instead, she had schooled her face into a look of indifference. Something that was bound to haunt her brother in his sleep.

Buck had waited for the Egan siblings outside, wanting to see for himself how the two of them were. Marley was the first one he saw step out of interrogation and the blank look on her face didn’t tell him too much. He had only known her for a short time and while she seemed to be a carbon copy of John. He wasn’t sure how she handled stress. Bucky threw jokes around and shots back, not wanting to feel anything. The nights starting to get more frequent where he had to help his friend back to their bunk safely.

But Marley at this moment looked void of any emotion. The tears from earlier were long gone and in their place was a face that wasn’t going to falter.

Bucky stepped out close behind his sister, running a hand through his hair. Buck could easily see how much that situation got to him and wondered how bad it was.

“You okay, Marley?” Buck asked her while keeping his eyes on his friend. She nodded her head at him while Bucky shook his. He had a feeling things would play out like this, he just wasn’t sure what to do about it.

“Why don’t we get you somethin’ to eat? Let you settle back down from this mornings run.” Buck kept his tone light, not trying to seem like he was forcing the idea on her. He learned with Bucky that the second you demand something, he will do everything in his power to do the opposite. And if had to bet, Marley was going to be the same.

“I think I’m going to take a shower and get out of this flight gear before I do anything.” Buck looked to her brother to see how he would react to that answer, but he didn’t say a word.

The two men walked her back to her bunk, no one saying a thing. Marley was trying her absolute hardest to not have a second breakdown. Especially since her brother now knew exactly what went on up there. Bucky knew if he opened his mouth, he would be yelling at her for a number of different things. The main one was for joining the damn war as a pilot. And Buck was in foreign territory, not knowing what toes he could step on if he led the conversation. So, the trio remained silent.

Once they arrived at their destination, Marley gave them a slight nod in thanks. Buck looked to his friend and saw he was going to let her walk in there without a single word. He sighed and said, “We will be down at the mess hall if you want to join us after.” His words stopped her for a second, hand hovering over the doorknob. “Thanks.” It was a quiet reply, but words were clearly the goal with the Egan siblings. Buck offered a small smile and turned back to Bucky after she shut the door.

“How bad?” The two started walking to the mess hall, now having to set up camp there for at least an hour. They weren’t sure if the younger Egan would show up, but they wanted to give her a chance.

Bucky ran a hand over his face, “There were more enemy fighters this time which makes me nervous for when we go back up. Seems like they are pulling more of their resources to the air. Something we need to start planning for.”

Buck slowly nodded his head at the answer Major Egan gave. While he had only gone on one mission so far, he got a good look at how bad things could get. Or so he thought. “And Marley?” He needed the brother answer as well.

“I don’t know, Buck. The way she just turned things off was concerning. It was like my sister was shoved into some far away corner and was replaced by a soldier. And I know what you’re going to say. That we are all soldiers. But that wasn’t Marley in there. It-it was like a shell of her. And I feel like the longer she is out here, the more that shell is going to take over.” Bucky shook his head, recalling what happened in there.

Buck wasn’t sure what to say to that. He knew this was Marley’s 9th mission and that this isn’t the first time she’s lost people. This was a fraction of the losses compared to what she told him that night. If she was able to bounce back to her normal self after that, he wasn’t concerned. Honestly, he hoped he could do the same once he starts headed up there more.  But her brother didn’t know that.

***

Marley walked into her bunk area; thankful the girls were working. She needed time to process what happened without the worry of someone seeing her. Grabbing a clean uniform, she walked to the showers and started trying to scrub away the losses from today.

The mission was supposed to be simple. A short flight to France to provide support to a small group of bombers. The target wasn’t even high profile, but more of an inconvenience for the enemy. So, when double the amount of Luftwaffe fighter planes headed towards them, they knew the stakes had been raised.

In all honesty, only having three of their planes shot down was a bigger win than they wanted to let on. Even half of the B-17’s was still standing when they got out of enemy territory. But losses still hurt, and the war seemed to be evolving at a rapid pace. She just hoped the US could keep up before too many of them were lost.

The water from the shower soon ran cold, signaling that it was time to get out. One of the main things she missed from back home was long, hot showers. The ones that make it feel like your skin was borderline burning. The water at base never seemed to get above lukewarm.

Marley knew she needed to put on a brave face for her brother. The way he acted walking her to her bunk highlighted the fact that her not being okay will affect him more than her. So, she looked herself in the mirror and nodded her head. I can do this. A small mission never hurt anyone. Well… it hurt three people. She shook her head, not the damn point. We are fine and there is zero reason to act otherwise.

She made sure to repeat those thoughts as she got dressed and headed to the mess hall to meet up with her brother and Buck. Those thoughts started to deviate as the thought of the blonde pilot was brought up. How he managed to become best friends with her brother still confused her. The man was quiet, observant, and calmer than most. All things opposite of John.

But even with him trying to remain a shadow, he still caught her eye. He was confident, he was caring, and he was bound to be trouble.

Marley had made herself promise to not fall for any man during the war. After the carnage of the first mission she went on, it was a wakeup call she needed. Getting close to people out here was dangerous, not knowing if they would make it back.

But when she walked through the doors of the mess hall and was greeted with a gruff “hey doll. I saved you some food.” She knew that promise was going to be broken.

A/N: Thank you so so much for reading! As always, my tags and inbox is always open for you :)

-C

Tags: @probabydeadbynow

[inchidentally]

https://x.com/safeforlando/status/1750936311563723024?s=20

I don't need to add anything. The best driver duo on the grid without a doubt <3

you're so right to say there's nothing more to say, anon. and yet ! lol

(behind a cut so no one can think I'm literally reporting facts here or that I'm living and dying by my own weird and pointless takes I'm just enjoying over-analyzing for fun)

(I am fully switching off RPF/narrative here)

so temporarily switching off friendships or any kinds of ships and focusing solely on driver partnerships, I love how certain Lando's always been about what Oscar has done for his (Lando's) performance. I think this is where age and generation play some part bc Carlos and Daniel are both firmly in the same age group and separated from Lando to a certain degree bc of that. they both viewed Lando as a little brother type of teammate and their careers were never perceived by themselves as especially tied to McLaren or to Lando. they'd both kind of become the lone wolf type by then which is honestly how most drivers have to be. (even moreso in the Max/RB dominance era)

whereas Lando isn't just toeing the line by saying he's a big team player, he adores working in groups in absolutely every area of his professional life and even having hobbies that put him with a minimum of 3-4 people. he also needs to feel the safety of a support network to be at his best. he's the very opposite of a lone wolf. hell, he literally said 'it took an actual village to raise me'.

he very intentionally developed the shared interests with Carlos and Daniel to create those kinds of bonds and familiarity (that's The Lando Effect). and while it's too much of a leap to say for sure, I think it's likely - at least at the start - that Lando felt like they might each have been his teammate for longer than they were. either way, the shared hobbies and friendly bonding didn't really translate to his time time spent with them in team meetings, speaking to the engineers or in development back at the factory. Lando has said he and Carlos were on completely different planes of experience and ability and Carlos was one foot out the door after what, the first year? and well, we know the lack of synchronicity between Lando and Daniel as drivers that started to set in not long after that first season together.

so when it was announced Lando's next teammate would be a rookie and also younger than him, he didn't really hide that the swapped dynamic worried him - even if he was half-joking. and then Oscar being so quiet and independent a person definitely threw him. he even describes their pre-season interactions as friendly but only really having time to say a few words. Oscar had his own work cut out as a rookie (and as we found out, wanting to prove himself most to the engineers and folks at MTC) and Lando already had a full life running alongside his racing career.

and it sounds all projection-y and armchair psychology to say this but genuinely it's clear to state that unlike the usual PR push that a lot of new teammates partake in, Oscar's been notably disinterested in any of that - not even just overplaying a friendship or a bromance with Lando for the sake of the cameras. that's an especially unusual choice for someone who could really have used the Lando Effect boost to his own image after contractgate with Alpine and the hoards of Ricciardo fans/McLaren fans ready to hate someone they saw as a snake or a pretender (usually both). especially considering Oscar pre-F1 was extremely active on social media and had his own viral moments and a much more colorful, fun personality than what he's allowed F1 fans to see so far - it was a pretty deliberate choice to not carry that over right away to selling the partnership with Lando.

we might be able to glean through the murk of Netflix's highly questionable editing of this upcoming season of DTS how much was really going on behind the scenes between Lando and Oscar around this time. but it really seemed like Oscar was more focused on letting his loyalty to the team and his own driving do all the talking (and Mark Webber often said as much). when you compare a lot of those early Lando and Oscar videos and challenges to his Prema ones, he's so unusually quiet and reserved. so he had absolutely no interest in trying to sell himself as a persona or a character to F1 fans. he was perfectly sweet and polite! and boy, did Lando enjoy having someone with endless patience for him lol.

but it's very marked how, despite whatever was or wasn't developing between them as teammates, Lando has consistently always said the same as he has here about Oscar being so talented and giving Lando that "push" and how "you hate and you like it" bc it made him (Lando) take his own driving to the next level. that healthy competition and 'wow, this guy is bringing it' seemed to strike him immediately. Lando can't lie for shit so if he'd found Oscar to be a crappy teammate in any way there's no way he'd be able to choke out any praise for him even for the sake of the team alsgfljasgfa.

and I liked that here in I think March? he said how he planned to get Oscar into all his own hobbies and bring him out of his shell, but apart from one last minute invite to golf that never really happened. we know they spent a fair amount of down time together but it was always mentioned in passing rather than posting about it online or having anyone film it (that we know of yet). the reason I like it is because Lando went on to say how Oscar has reminded him by example to "keep calm and be yourself". and in this interview he'd said how he considers himself and Oscar to be pretty similar people in terms of their approach to their F1 careers. so instead of them bonding through hobbies and interests or both of them being chatterboxes, I think they bonded (if that's the word?) over not being stereotypical extroverted drivers in terms of their personalities and also that they've so adamantly never wanted to have driver in-fighting make life harder for their teams (and themselves). plenty of guys from F2 and F3 can attest to that for Oscar and of course there's The Lando Effect as far as Lando's concerned.

you could almost say they both needed to be teamed up with the other bc for all that Oscar projects Just a Guy, he also finds himself incredibly awkward when it comes to everything about his job outside of racing the car or talking about the car. Lando's just as much the same but he's learned to charm his way through it. he's still awkward as hell even in Quadrant promo videos and he's been doing those regularly for years now, and with all his friends there! they're both enough off-center that they either need an extroverted teammate to lean on or in their current situation, someone who can sympathize.

which I think considering how much loyalty to the team and a sense of 'home' and consistency are for Lando, it makes all kinds of sense that Oscar was the teammate to show up and really form that partnership that he considers to be 'the strongest' on the grid.

they're the same generation, have the same ethos when it comes to their racing careers and Oscar not only went through a court case to get to McLaren he then extended his contract to 2026 the second McLaren made the offer. Lando's got stability as well as a serious challenge from Oscar. he's more poised than ever for that win(s). and now I just hope he listens to Oscar in other ways like not self-flagellating in front of the cameras so much and focusing on where he has done well.

[cccccasperghost]

I don't think people are talking enough about Linc's current relationship with his father. As someone who has a very strained relationship with my parents I find it very... relatable? Obviously I'm not the only one with this kind of relationship with their parents, I mean this is the dndads fandom its kind of a requirement but I did want to say something about it.

Now obviously my mother and father weren't killing people on the low, but for many people as children we think of our parents as heroes, people who know everything and will do anything for us until obviously later when we grow to teenage years and develop a sense independence we realize that our parents are flawed, and in some cases not the best of people.

In Linc's case he followed most of this, the parental hero phase, then when the whole disappearance of his father happened he developed this off kind of parentification role. The "I need to find my dad" to "I need to save my dad" then the whole scene where Grant talked about how awful of a person he was and Linc should leave him to die making Linc comfort him. After Linc learned about Grants real job, what he really does for a job at D.A.D.D.Y.S he pretends to be fine with it, continuing to protect and care for his father but after the murder of Terry, when Lincoln saw the murder, what his father had done and was doing for years going passed his life span he snapped.

After that point Linc had, like most of us, this breaking point, a realization of "Oh, this guy is fucked up, like genuinely in the head, and he's my father." and like all of us know this can break us. Going from my parent is amazing, to my parent is not the person I thought they were. It rattles you, even if your parent isn't a crazed murderer on one side of themselves and a wonderful parent on the other.

This rebellion isn't a shock to me, it may have seemed abrupt but if you listen closely to the conversations between Grant and Lincoln you notice the hints of this build of this disconnect between father and son to stranger to stranger.

Now i'm not saying Grant is a horrible person, far from it. He's developed this liking to killing after a deep trauma from childhood to the point where he didn't think he could feel without it. As well as he's up to this point he's been incredibly loving and maybe went overkill with carefulness, but to say he hasn't passed down trauma to his own kid is also not true. Like Linc said, Grant chose to be a father knowing what kind of person he was, what line of work he did, what his son would have to go through. No amount of protectiveness could change the fact that he knew all of this and still when through with an adoption.

No amount of carefulness makes that right.

This is a kind of dynamic I'm sure we can all relate to. The mentally putting your parent on a pedestal, to trying to support or fix them or the relationship, (sometimes) the fear, then the breaking point. No matter what kind of parental dynamic you have, the enmeshed parent, the absent parent, the narcissistic parent.

This feeling of if you can't fix your parent then it's your fault. That you're the problem if you try to express something isn't right. That's why I feel so connected to Lincoln these past couple episodes, and I don't think I'm the only one in that.

[soraviie]

Hmmm I have an idea for MTL: MTL feel left out/upset if you do something without him / without telling him - nothing bad, just like, eg. at 2pm in the afternoon while he's at work you randomly decide to shave your head or get a puppy and don't tell him til he gets home (who would think of it as a fun surprise, who'd be 'you could have warned me, you know I don't like surprises', and who would be like 'why didn't you tell me you wanted to do this, we could have done it together').

JIMIN — perhaps a predictable one but you can't tell me who wouldn't. Probably wold be standing in a doorway, tapping his foot and sulking.

"What part about we're a couple, do you not understand?"

"It's not even that seriou—"

"I am you. You are me. Understood?"

His eyebrows come to knit together in order to portray a nearly unified line of discontent as his cheeks expand in an insulted pout.

"Yes, sir," with a sigh, you relent.

NAMJOON? — I don't know why but I'd feel like if it's a decision that would impact his life, no matter how inadvertently he'd like to know. If it's would be like what kind of dress you should buy or whether to get a new DLC for your favourite game, he wouldn't care but he would care— ok, lemme just explain. I feel like if you lived separate he wouldn't be as upset. Show him your new dog?

"Oh, you've got a pet...You sure you have the time to take care of them?"

Shave your head? Sure, he'd do a spit take and stammer throughout it but he'd be chill.

"O-oh, you're- you're...without hair! That's...I mean you look great!"

"Joon, you don't have to fake it."

But if you'd live together, I feel like he'd get more upset? In a way, merging your lives together means you debate things more. I don't think Namjoon really likes surprises at home, 'cause it's supposed to be his steady rock and you along with it, so he wouldn't appreciate not having a conversation even if it's a passing one.

TAEHYUNG — I feel like he'd be on the fence about this. Depends largely on what the surprise is and truthfully what his mood is that day. If it'd be a new haircut, he'd hype you up but if it'd be like "let's fly out to meet my parents" he'd sit there like:

"Yeeeeyy, how great." For large things, like changing apartment interior, going away for a couple days, travelling or changing jobs he'd be a bit sulky but largely he'd just hype you up.

JIN — would tease you about doing something, especially, if you'd buzzy your hair (he'd be such a meanie about it T-T calling you egghead for days) but he wouldn't prohibit you from doing so. As long as you don't leave home, come or go somewhere in the middle of the night (I feel like that'd be a rule for both of you. Sort of like "you can go wherever you want just tell me where and when are you coming back") he's okay with it. He might pretend to be disapproving of a pet at first but he'd totally be like that one "dad and the dog" meme.

HOSEOK — our king of green flags. Would actually love if you'd be that kind of person who could go along your wishes and not need to consult anyone about it. I feel like he'd like a certain degree of mutual independence. Yes, you're together and you love each other very much but you've got your own lives and sometimes one just has to do what they feel like it that day. Regardless, he would wholly support you and be a phenomenal hype man, well, until it's a thing that ends up with you getting hurt, he's not fond of that.

JUNGKOOK — You'd place him higher wouldn't you? But...Jungkook is spontaneous himself. If he wants to shave off his eyebrows at 2:30 in the morning, he will so in that way he sort of can't really get mad at you for doing the same thing. Without a single thought in his head, he would say yes if you asked to join. Help you dye your hair in the sink? Sure. Go out and eat some ice cream and children's playground? Sounds good but if you want to do it alone, he doesn't put much fuss. Though obviously he doesn't like you going around at night.

"I got hungry and you were still at work," you weakly defend, twirling your thumbs. Seeing the number of phone calls, reaching double digits, you felt a sickly feeling fester in the pit of your stomach. And yes, it also just could be that 24/7 shop hot dog but coming home to a genuinely distraught Jungkook pacing around the room, certainly did not help.

He heaves a pinched sigh, the space between his eyebrows etched with deep wrinkles.

"I'm not mad at you," he says, both hands on his hips. "But...world is dangerous. You know that, right?"

"Of course, I do."

"Just...just take Bam with you if you go out."

YOONGI — It's not that he doesn't care, he does! but it's still your life. So as long as you don't force him into plans, you answer all of his calls and don't literally leave the country, he's okay with supporting you from the side. He trusts your judgement, in that way. Even if you would change your job , he wouldn't make a scene. At most his eyes would widen, for example, if you visit his studio with an impromptu tattoo all over the arm.

If he thinks something is not a good look but you're beaming with all the world's joy, at most he'd just drawl cautiously:

"Are you...ssuuuureeeee about that?"

"Yeah," you grin broadly at him and a part of him melts as you do. "Isn't it great?"

"Sure, of course," he's quick to agree, nodding along with the lies. "It's your life. Do what makes you happy."

© soraviie, 2023

[heavyhitterheaux]

Hair Love

AN: cutesy Urban fluff for all my Urban heauxs ❤️

Synopsis: You and Urban's daughter was now ten years old and wants mommy to teach her how to braid. What better way to do it then letting her practice on her daddy.

Pairing: Husband!Urban Wyatt x Wife!Reader

Please do not repost my content anywhere

"You plan on letting her WHAT?"

"Let her practice on you. She wants to learn how to braid."

"Uhh, do I get a say in this?"

"No, not really, no."

Happy wife, happy life and Urban knew better than to say no to you concerning anything. Especially when it came to the well-being of your daughter.

“Why can’t she practice on you?”

“I know your slow ass did not just ask me that when I literally have knotless braids in my head already.”

“She’s about to tear my hair out.”

“Will you stop being so dramatic? I’ll make sure she leaves you with at least something.”

“The things you do for your daughter, I swear. You both are probably going to be styling wigs next and use me as a mannequin.”

“That actually isn’t a bad idea. She wants to be a cosmetologist so she has to start somewhere.”

“Yeah, but not on me!”

“Lux! Come here baby. Daddy said he doesn’t mind and you can practice on him.” You said calling out for her and suddenly Urban’s eyes went wide.

You both deciding on her name was a no brainer once you came across Lux. It means light and she was the light of both of your lives. You felt that it was something unique and different which would allow for her to stand out. 

“Daddy did not say that!”

“Shut up Urb. You need to be supportive right now. You know how sensitive she is.”

Your daughter had always been very shy which is the complete opposite of both of her parents personalities. She had plenty of friends, was into art and rather spend her time in a museum than on her phone which you both were thankful for. She had recently approached you about wanting to learn how to braid hair since she was getting to the age where she wanted more independence.

I mean double digits is a big deal.

You promised to block out time for her this weekend so that you could begin to teach her and hopefully one day with practice she’ll be able to eventually do her own hair without needing any help from you.

“Coming, mom!”

You then turned to your husband who had a sour look on his face and his arms crossed.

“Fix your face before she comes in here.”

Once Lux came into view she had nothing but a smile on her face with her arms full of hair products to use on Urban. You can tell he was holding back a groan when he saw how many things she had.

“Okay, little one. We probably don’t need all of this for daddy’s hair since his is a little bit different than ours.” You said while going through the pile that she neatly placed on the table.

“Okay, I brought some bows too just in case to make sure the ends will stay.”

She held up the pink bows and all you could do was stifle a laugh while Urban sat there awaiting to be tortured.

“Thanks for letting me practice on you, daddy.”

“Anything for my baby girl. Just... try to leave me with some hair when you’re done, okay?”

Lux let out a small laugh and nodded before picking up the comb to get ready to start.

“Okay, first things first. You have to learn how to part. Now it doesn’t have to be perfect and it’s not going to be since it’s your first time. I’ll do it first and then let you try. But, we need the other comb since it will get it straighter.”

Lux was mentally taking notes as she watched you begin to start parting Urban’s hair. You wanted to take a decent amount so that her braids wouldn’t end up being small.

“Did you see what I did? Do you think you’re ready to try the next one?”

She nodded her head yes and eagerly took the comb from you as you moved to the side.

“Shit! I mean ow!”

“Oh, did I pull too hard? I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, baby girl. Keep going.” Urban responded while eyeing you and you made a mental note in your mind to make this up to him later. 

You let her try and do it without stepping in to help her and you can admit she wasn’t doing a bad job so far.

“Okay, finished.”

You went over to inspect her work and even though the part wasn’t as straight as yours was, it wasn’t half-bad for someone who is only ten.

“Not too bad, peanut. Now, some people braid overhand and some do underhand. Typically overhand is the easiest so that’s the one that we’ll do, but I can do both. I’ll do the first one and then let you do the second.”

Lux was intrigued as she watched you braid Urban’s hair. He had let you braid it plenty of times before so you didn’t see what the big deal was when you first told him that Lux was going to practice on him.

Once you got to the end of the braid, Lux handed you a pink bow which you tied onto the end to keep it from coming undone.

This was going to look so cute when it was finished. Pink bows and all. 

Lux inspected your braid before she picked up the next section of Urban’s hair. She made three small sections and then started.

You and Urban didn’t want to break her concentration so you both stayed quiet.

Once she got to the end of the braid you handed her a pink bow and she quickly fastened it.

She took a step back to admire her work.

“Look mom! It doesn’t look as good as yours, but I finished it!”

It definitely didn’t look as good as yours, but you didn’t expect it to. You admit it was little lumpy and even a little lopsided, but she did it. 

“It looks good, peanut! With a little more practice, you’ll be braiding daddy’s hair all the time in no time without my help.”

“Whaa..” Urban began to say but you pinched him in order for him to keep quiet.

“Now, we have to do the rest, how about it?”

“I have at least ten pink bows left.”

----

There was a knock at the door and Urban quickly went to answer it since he was the only one downstairs.

He opened the door to be met with his best friend who looked at his hair and was trying not to laugh.

“Don’t even say it.”

“What happened?” Jack asked as he stepped through the threshold and into the foyer. 

“Lux and Y/N happened.”

Lux having heard her favorite uncle’s voice quickly took the steps two at a time to greet him.

“Uncle Jack! I did daddy’s hair! Do you like it?”

“Hey peanut and yeah it looks good. The pink bows were a nice touch. Was that your idea?” He replied while bringing her in for a hug.

“Mommy helped me and yes! And she said soon I’ll be able to do his hair all by myself.”

“Did she now? You did a good job. I might have to hire you to do my hair when I go on tour.”

Lux let out a laugh and then suddenly got a serious look on her face while holding out her hand. 

“How much are you going to pay me?”

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[gatorlovebot]

Our chronic pain brain cells are sooo communicating rn. Ghost gets chronic pain the most out of everyone in 141. They’re all supportive, but ghost is the only one who gets it. Soap sometimes forgets about our limitations in his excitement (but he always always makes sure to reassure us and feels guilty. He ends up making a note on his phone that has what triggers us, what we can’t do no matter what pain level were at, and the things that helps us, and he screenshots it to make it his phone background). Gaz is trying his best, and he does good because he definitely has issues from hanging from a fucking helicopter, but it’s different, and talks to Price and Ghost for advice on how to help better, and does research online too. Price is caregiver (cough cough daddy) and has done all the research ever and has his own experience with aches and pains, but sometimes goes a lil too far and makes you feel weak or like a burden, and there needs to be a conversation. Ghost is just perfect. He knows chronic pain, knows the desire for help but also independence, and knows you. Best lover boy in the world.

I want all of them rn, they could put my icy hot patches on for me since I can never get them to stick properly on my own 🥺

🐶

i was hoping writing about chronic pain reader would bring you back to me 🥰

simon is the best lover boy and i will take no questions!! he just knows you. he doesn’t need to have notes and lists on his phone, he doesn’t need to have all your meds on standby, he never feels the need to do things for you, because he knows that you know your body. you’ve both with pain for years and he’s not going to try to undermine you by thinking he knows best.

ALSO since i wrote that post i have not been able to stop thinking about puppy simon trying to help you through a pain flare up.

maybe you came home from a long day and you didn’t really communicate with him how you were feeling, instead just focusing all your energy on getting yourself home. you breathe a sigh of relief when you finally get your key in the door, but then your face drops at the sight of simon sitting on the floor, waiting for you with his collar on.

any other day you would have dropped down to your knees to give him kisses and love after a long day a part, but all you wanted when you came home was for him to help you take off your coat and boots. you struggle with them on your own, huffing at him when he tries grab at your jacket sleeve with his teeth. you feel awful snapping at him, at the way his brows furrow in confusion, and then shame.

once you finally get yourself settled he tugs on your shirt sleeve towards the kitchen, reminding you that not only do you have to feed yourself but now you have to feed him. you try not to cry on the spot. but by the grace of god he has something cooking in the oven already, timer going with a little note on the counter that he must have written before he slipped into puppy space, his scrawl informing you that all you had to do was take the pan out of the oven when the timer dings. this time you do cry, and do your best to bend down to cover his nose in kisses, he luckily meets you halfway.

with a few minutes left on the timer he next takes you to your bedroom where he has loose, comfy clothes laid out on your bed to change into. he sits and watches you patiently, a noise of concern leaving his lips whenever a noise of pain left your’s. but deep down he knew that getting changed was something you could do on your own despite your condition, so he just sat and waited until you were done.

dinner was a breeze and one less thing for you to worry about in your state, serving up plates for the both of you and parking yourselves on the couch so you could rest your tired and sore body. simon stayed close the rest of the night, using his knuckles to dip into the painful spots of your lower back <3

[ilovesjamesbb]

Please Don't Leave Me (Pt. 23)

Bucky x Reader

“What were you thinking!” Bucky yelled across the room to me as I sat on the couch with an icepack on my forehead. 

“We don’t do these things alone, y/n” Steve said. He sat on a chair across from me and he gave me the disappointed dad look. 

“Really, Rogers? You don’t want to go there with me.” I said throwing the ice pack on the couch. 

“You don’t get to defend yourself. You lost that right the moment you lied to us.” Bucky said. 

“Lie to you? When did I do that? You all want to act high and mighty but you have all done the same thing!” I looked at Nat this time. Hoping she would tell them where to shove it. 

“I agree with them, y/n. I’m all for independence but what you did was reckless and stupid.” She sat backwards on a chair next to Steve. 

“We are a team. We do things as a team.” Steve got up from his chair and Bucky moved to look out the window. 

“I know that but this. Wasn’t. About. You. This wasn't a team thing, this was a me thing. It’s my mess and I am gonna fix it.” I punctuated my words trying to send the message. 

“Was.” Bucky spoke up. 

“What?” 

“Past tense. I “was” gonna fix it not I “am” because you sure as hell aren’t gonna pull that shit again.” I don’t think I’ve ever seen Bucky this angry. He was dark and scary and not in a way that intrigued me. 

“Okay, let’s leave the lovers quarrel for later. What I want to know is what you think you were going to get out of this?” Tony poured himself a drink. I didn’t answer and he moved to sit next to me on the couch. He cocked his head to the side. 

“We’ve been looking for weeks, how did you manage to find him?” He was almost a little annoyed that I found him first. 

“I needed help from an old friend.” I left Jamie’s relation to Christian out of it. I knew they wouldn’t understand. 

“That dead guy?” Tony asked. I picked my head up quickly to meet his eyes. The mention of Jamie’s death sparked something in me.

“Where is he?” 

“His body? City morgue is my guess.” Tony said taking a sip of his drink. I stood up and started to walk out. I needed to go now. If what Christian said was true then Jamie wasn’t dead. Sam caught my arm. 

“Where are you going?” 

“Out.” I looked as his arm as if telling him to let go. ‘

“What did we just talk about, y/n” Steve said. 

“I’m going to the city morgue, Steven.” Sam let me go and everyone stood up. 

“To the city morgue then.” Sam said. They started to follow and I turned around. Bucky went to follow with the same angry look on his face.

“Fine. Bruce. You can come.” Bruce looked surprised and Bucky looked shocked but his face returned to the same angry look. 

“Uh um yeah. Yes. Let me grab my things.” He stuttered and I nodded. 

“I’m sorry. I really am. It won't happen again.” I told the rest of the team as I walked out and headed toward the parking garage. 

Banner and I made it to the morgue and checked in with the mortician who told us we could say our goodbyes and to tell him when we were done. I didn’t look under the sheet yet. I was waiting for him to wake up or something. 

“So, y/n. Why did you choose me to come with you? I mean I’m glad I’m here to support you and all but I’m not going to lie I was a little shocked.” He awkwardly put his hands in his pockets. 

“I thought you might be able to help.” I looked at him and he gave me a questioning look. 

“You’re a man of science right? Listen. This is gonna sound crazy but Jamie isn’t dead.” I lifted the sheet and revealed Jamie’s face. Banner walked to the side of the table and inspected his body. 

“What do you mean?” He adjusts his glasses. 

“Check for rigor mortis, Bruce.” I was hoping what Christian said was true. I didn’t want this to be the end. He lifted his arm and touched his neck. His eyes shot to mine. 

“There isn’t any. Y/n what's going on.” He backed away from the table. 

“Something happened when I went to find Chrisitan. He said HYDRA “enhanced” him somehow.” I walked to the other side of the table to stand in front of him. 

“Enhanced him, how?”

“Christian is a vampire.” I let out. 

“He said that if someone dies with vampire blood in their system they will come back as one. He spiked all of the champagne with his blood and then he snapped Jamie's neck. I think… I think Jamie is a vampire or at least he will be.” I was unsure of the whole situation myself. For all I know Christian could have been lying but my gut was telling me he wasn’t.  Bruce put his hand on the side of his head. I could tell he was freaking out. 

“No, no. no. This is insane. Y/n I don’t think I should be here.” I out my hand on his. 

“Bruce. I chose you for a reason. Don’t freak out on me.” I smiled. All of a sudden Jamie gasped and he shot up. I jumped. 

“Jamie!” I moved to him. He looked at me and put his hand at the back of his neck. 

“Y/n. Thank god you’re alright. What happened?” His eyebrows scrunched together. How was I supposed to tell him he was dead.

“This is going to sound crazy. I need you to be calm.” I put my hand on his. 

“What is it? You’re scaring me.” 

“You’re dead, Jamie.” He scoffed as if he didn’t believe me and then he looked around the room. It was clean, white, and sterile. It looked exactly as a morgue should be. 

“Christian killed me.” He put his hand to his neck.

“He snapped my neck. How am I alive?” I looked at Bruce. I didn’t know what to say. How do you tell someone there a vampire?

“Hi, Mr. Valentino. I’m Bruce Banner.” He stuck out his hand. Jamie met it. 

“I know.” 

“I don’t know exactly what is true and what it is now but y/n told me that Christian was enhanced. Somehow blood brought you back to life. Well not life but brought you back. May I?” He gestured to his hand and Jamie nodded. Bruce felt a pulse and touched his skin. Everything seemed normal. There were no signs of death. 

“You’re a vampire or you will be. I don’t know.” I put my hands through my hair. 

“What? What does that mean?” Jamie was a lot calmer than I thought he would be. 

“Let’s get out of here. There is an exit to the left of the mortician's office. We can talk about all of this when we get back.” Bruce said to both of us. 

“Where are we going?” Jamie asked. 

“Stark Tower.”

[brighteststar707]

Lollipop 🍭 for Saeyoung (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)⁠❤

She/her pronouns. Maybe like mc falls for him not expecting much back but then with time realizes that he might have feelings for her too? I think this would be fun to see in the post SE timeline when Saeyoung can take time falling in love. And MC wasn't pushy or invasive in his route, she was understanding! She helped Saeyoung bring Saeran back and kept supporting him any way she could during Saeran's recovery. As she spends more time with Saeyoung she realizes that she has genuine feelings for him and she notices that he might be feeling the same way. This might be a bit too much backstory for a drabble 😅 do feel free to add or change anything you like! I'm excited to read it ♥️♥️ congrats again for 300 followers!🥳💕💕

Lucy! Thank you for your patience!

This request was a lot of fun to write, though it did take me some time to figure out how best to frame it. Don't apologise for the extra backstory, I love hearing about the ideas you have in mind!

The concept of Saeyoung and his MC falling for each other slowly after the events of his route is one I really enjoy. It's probably a lot healthier than what happens in the route. He needs his time to come to terms with everything else before ever considering love.

I took most of your prompt and changed the perspective a bit, so it's Saeyoung realizing his feelings after everything is said and done. I hope you enjoy <3

✧ Lollipop ~ Having a crush

Today’s outing takes a detour to a little coffee shop. After a few hours of walking around the park and exploring different shops, they’d both like a break. It’s an unremarkable building, the kind of place that’s easy to miss if you’re not paying attention but surprisingly, the inside is warm and welcoming, like a little hideaway from the streets outside. Saeyoung likes it from the moment they enter. How she ever found this place, he doesn’t know.

They pick a good variety of pastries from the case to go with their drinks – they’ve never been the type to do half-measures – and then settle into a booth by the window. He sits opposite her, and the table is small enough that his legs risk bumping into hers. He tucks them under his chair instead.

Since the twins' lives had settled into a new sort of normal in the bunker, Saeyoung had found himself with a lot more free time on his hands. Saeran did not need him in the ways he once did (in fact, his independence is key to his recovery). The agency had imploded and his father had finally been served justice. He wasn’t sure what was left for him to do except stare at the walls of his office. He had never had any ambitions beyond the life he had been previously living. They were never allowed.  

She had caught him in the middle of a crisis where he had spent weeks closed up indoors panicking about the openness of his future. She encouraged him to come outside with her, it had been so long since they had last seen each other, after all. They went for a walk around the empty land surrounding where he lived, talked about life, the little things, and then later the big scary things. 

This gesture of hers had awoken in him a feverish desire to catch up on everything at once, the life he had been missing all this time. They immediately started making plans for when to meet up next, where to go and what to do.

No two outings so far have been the same. Sometimes, they just pick random exits off the highway to go exploring. Other times, they went to the cinema or a museum. The RFA joined them sometimes, like the time they managed to convince Jumin to hold a game night at his penthouse (those shiny new consoles were just begging to be used) and the time they all went together to watch Zen perform in his latest show. Saeran even agreed to join once or twice, like when they got ice cream at the park or when they went to go visit an art gallery. A lot of the time, though, it was just the two of them.

They didn't mind it that way. It was no secret that they had always been closer than the others. Even from the beginning, when they were just strangers in a chatroom, they managed to still joke around in ways the others didn’t understand. There was an understanding between them, a product of their personalities and the things they had been through, that would be difficult to replicate with anyone else.

Even now, as they sit in the café sipping their drinks, the silence is comfortable. He can read the expression on her face as she watches the people walk by from the quirk in her eyebrows and the slight smile that curves the corners of her mouth.

She catches him watching her, though, and quickly locks her eyes on his.

She flashes him a cheeky smile and says, “Something catch your eye?” and his stomach does somersaults. Did she always look like that?

Despite all the time they had spent together, both before Mint Eye and after, sometimes it felt like he was still just noticing things about her he probably should have noticed before this. The smell of her shampoo when she got into his car earlier today. Her arm brushing against his when reaching for a book on a shelf next to him. The proximity of their knees under the table.

If he looks visibly flustered, she doesn't let on. She instead replaces her question with another one. She asks him about how life is going in the bunker. How he is coping, how Saeran is coping.

He tells her that he is looking at houses, that he's trying to find the best way to broach the idea of moving to Saeran. How to involve him in the process, so he has a say in where they end up living. He tells her that it's getting easier on most days to talk to each other.

He doesn't give her the half-answers he's used to giving. How could he? She has seen him in his entirety, at his worst as well as his best. It's no use lying to her even if he wanted to; she has been involved with their reuniting and recovery since day one.

She is the reason he survived the whole ordeal at all. When he was falling to pieces at the apartment, she was the one who brought him food, who didn't try to pry. She stubbornly refused to let him punish himself for things that weren't his fault. Then, when it was time for him to go and rescue Saeran, she agreed to go with him without question.

He remembers waking up at the hospital and finding her curled up asleep on a very uncomfortable looking chair. She hadn’t left, even after they got rescued. No, she remained until he was discharged, bringing with her well-wishes from the others and news on Saeran’s recovery. She is the one who broke the news to him about V and who let him air out his frustrations as well as his grief.

When he was finally discharged, she promised him that she was just a call away. He thanked her (he will likely never stop thanking her) but promised himself that he would not burden her with any more of his troubles.

He went on to focus on Saeran’s care. It was worse than he could have imagined, to see his brother in that state. The anger, he could take. He deserved it. But the emptiness, the apathy he saw from the person he once knew to be so joyful scared him like nothing else. He could rescue Saeran from Rika and the drugs she put him under. He could not force him to keep living if he didn't wan to, however.

That’s how he ended up calling her again. From then on, she often accompanied him to hospital visits. She’d wait for him in the waiting room every time he went in, and on days when he couldn’t, she would go in instead. Afterwards, she’d encourage him to talk about the things on his mind. She was the first person to hear about his plan to break Saeran out of the hospital.

He allowed himself to accept help from her and offered her the same support in return. On more than one occasion he stayed on the phone with her till she fell asleep because memories of the basement cell and gunshots and screams were keeping her up. He understood that some things she’d never be able to explain to anyone else.

As he rebuilt his life, she was an essential part of it. He survived because of her friendship and promise that he would never be alone if he didn't want to be.

The time passes quickly as they share pastries and discuss the pros and cons of the different types of houses he is considering. He isn’t sure when their adventures became more about seeing her than doing whatever activity they had planned. When he started calling her just to ask her what she was doing and to hear the sound of her voice on the other side. He is already dreading dropping her off at home later and returning to the bunker by himself. Without her, things feel off-kilter.

There is a small voice telling him that he knows what he's feeling. That he had felt it once before, in a time when she was just a grainy figure on CCTV footage and a voice over the phone. The spark of something that had been stifled by everything that came after.

He leans forward to show her a listing on his phone, and their legs bump under the table. It doesn't look like she notices but he can feel his heart racing. He must say something funny, because she tips her head back to laugh and the sunlight catches on her hair.

And then all the pieces slot together like the world's most obvious puzzle and he is left dumbfounded by his own obliviousness.

Before he can process his realization, before he can try and figure out what it means, the words tumble out of his mouth.

"I love you."

There it was, out on the table with whatever was left of the pastries.

She immediately straightens up and looks at him with wide eyes.

"What did you say?"

Is he imagining things, or does she sound flustered?

"I... love you." He says it slower this time and it sounds almost inadequate.

"Oh."

He's not imagining things. She fiddles with her sleeves and looks down at the table as if it'd be able to hide the smile that's slowly growing on her (definitely blushing) cheeks. Before he can think of something (anything) else to say, she takes a breath and looks at him. She's smiling shyly, it's a look he has never seen on her before.

"That makes me so happy, Saeyoung."

"Does that mean..."

Her smile widens and she nods. "Me too."

"What- why didn't you say anything?"

"I didn't want to dump my feelings on you after everything. I thought it would ruin things."

"As if you could ruin anything."

They hold eye contact for a second before they both burst into a fit of giggles out of relief and the absurdity of it all.

He reaches for her hand across the table. Their legs bump and cross under the table, and he doesn't mind how much the contact makes his heart race. In fact, he relishes it. He wonders what it would feel like if she were closer, whether it would simply stop beating all together. He can't remember the last time someone was this close to him.

They have spent the last few months catching up on life he has missed. As he squeezes her hand between both of his and digests the certainty of their confessions, he realises that this is only the beginning.