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unpredictable-probabilities · 4 months

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A Star's Respite

Part 1 of The Home That Waits Outside the Spotlight

Summary:

After not being able to see his dear sister for a long time, actor Morpheus Evermoore decides to defy his superiors' stifling schedule and leave to attend her birthday.

Meanwhile, times have fallen hard on The White Horse pub due to competition from new businesses. Owner Hob Gadling contemplates on closing it down, thinking it unlikely that a solution would present itself anytime soon.

Word Count: 11,799

Notes (more at the end):

For Dreamling Week Day 6: Monochromatic

[Read on AO3]

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Morpheus made his way to his trailer as the film crew began packing up the equipment. They had just wrapped up the last day of filming for his latest movie, and he was sincerely hoping he would get at least a few minutes of peace. And possibly lunch. It was almost noon, but they’d been so busy that he hadn’t had a chance to eat breakfast apart from the singular chocolate chip cookie that his assistant Matthew managed to shove into his hand a few minutes before filming.

He went into his trailer and closed the door behind him, taking his phone from the dresser and sitting on the small couch. He unbuttoned the front of his tuxedo and tried to settle down as best he could.

Usually he changed out of his film clothes immediately, in order to not risk damage on any properties of the costume department, but he owned this particular ensemble, and he had more pressing matters to attend to.

He unlocked his phone and viewed the notifications.

As he had expected, there was a message from his little sister. They had been having a conversation earlier before it was interrupted by his work schedule.

He opened the message.

Blysse: It’s okay if you really can’t come to my birthday. I understand. We’ll just see each other next time you’re not busy 💖

Morpheus sighed and ran a hand down his face. Ever since his career picked up a few years ago, he had missed so many important events in her life; school plays, ballet recitals, and most recently, birthdays.

Blysse never complained, which made it worse, somehow. Morpheus hated seeing how sad her eyes looked whenever he had to tell her on video call that he wouldn’t be able to make it home on time. He would rather her get angry with him if it meant she would not be so upset after.

Morpheus checked his schedule on his phone for what felt like the hundredth time this week. Blysse’s 18th birthday party would be on Sunday, three days from now. With the filming finished today and nothing else lined up for this week, he should have some time to himself. He already brought it up to his manager, but Mr. Fry didn’t want him leaving the city, insisting that he should start preparing for the press tour that would start in three weeks. There was a photoshoot on Monday too, and Mr. Fry didn’t want him to leave on Sunday and risk being unable to attend it.

Erasmus Fry had always been his manager, and he didn’t want to seem ungrateful by arguing about the schedules. Yet there was an ugly feeling in the pit of his stomach whenever he would remember that he hadn’t seen Blysse in nearly a year now.

His phone lit up with a notification. He opened it to see a message from Blysse.

Blysse: I made this for your birthday last year, it was supposed to be a surprise but you weren’t able to come home. Be here on your birthday this year so I can give it to you! ^_^

The attached photo was a painting of him, a rendition of his movie poster from his very first film, but Blysse had done it in her unique style using vibrant colours that seemed to leap off the canvas.

Morpheus bit the inside of his cheek to quell the emotions rising within him. Truly, Blysse deserved all the love and care in the world. He only wished he could give her even a fraction of it.

He looked at his schedule again and at Blysse’s messages. A determined frown creased his forehead and his mouth set into a hard line.

He slightly opened his trailer door and looked around outside. The film crew was halfway done with packing up, and Mr. Fry was nowhere to be seen.

He quickly grabbed his wallet and keys on the dresser, securing them in his pockets. He sent a quick text to Blysse:

Morpheus: I shall be there for your birthday.

He turned off his phone, slipped out of his trailer, and closed the door behind him.

He casually walked to the far side of the trailer to hide him from view of the film crew, and sprinted towards the direction of the main road.

***

Hob set down the mug on the rack after he finished polishing it. He picked up a second mug and started the process all over again. The White Horse wouldn’t be open for another two hours, and none of his staff are here yet, but he needed something to do. The pub hadn’t been doing so well recently, with new competition popping up all over the place and that mall that just opened down the next block. He was still able to pay the electric bill and rent for the building, but he wasn’t so confident about next month. He had enough saved up that he’d be able to move to some other, smaller place, and he could always go back to teaching, but he was worried about the staff. As the owner of the pub, he felt that he should be able to do more for the people who relied on him.

That was why he had gone here, behind the bar, cleaning dishware that didn’t need cleaning. He had to think of a way to promote the pub somehow. They still had loyal customers, so he knew that the quality of their food or service hadn’t gone down. The problem was visibility; it was difficult to gain new customers when most people don’t even know about the pub.

He didn’t want his staff to be suddenly out of jobs, and he had to come up with something soon. It wasn’t like the solution to all his problems would just barge through the front door.

A sudden sound startled Hob out of his thoughts.

He looked over and saw that someone was prying open the sliding window on the far wall. He tensed at the possibility of a burglary, but who would rob a place at high noon?

The slender figure slipped in through the window and slammed it shut, crouching low on the floor and peeking out the window.

By this point Hob noticed that it was a man, too finely dressed to be a burglar of any sort. His tuxedo alone probably cost more than Hob’s rent.

A group of men in black uniforms ran past, and the tuxedoed man ducked quickly out of sight. He heaved a sigh of relief and sat back against the wall.

He met Hob’s gaze, and his eyes widened.

Hob probably didn’t look any different; he almost dropped the mug when he recognized the man sitting on his floor.

Oh my god.

“I apologise.” The man quickly stood up and walked over to the bar. “I did not mean to break into your establishment. I was just…” he cast a worried glance over his shoulder towards the window before looking at Hob again. “May I stay for a few minutes? I promise not to get in the way.”

Hob had just been staring wide-eyed the entire time, his brain still catching up to the fact that a movie star had just climbed in through his window. There was no mistaking that deep voice; Hob had seen a few films of Dream Evermoore and this was definitely him. And okay, maybe he had seen a bit more than a few films. Maybe he had seen all of them. But who’s counting?

“Um…” Hob finally found his voice. His wits were slowly returning to him, and he realised how worried Dream looked. The man’s eyes looked strained, and his fingers were tapping nervously on the bar. “Are you alright? Are you in danger?” Hob glanced at the window, but fortunately no one else was approaching. Was Dream being mugged?

Dream blinked at him, blue eyes bright with surprise. “I… I am alright, yes. Thank you. No danger. Apart from possibly being caught and reprimanded by my employers for sneaking out,” he gave a small smile. “May I sit?” he pointed to a barstool.

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” Hob said quickly, putting the mug away and clearing the counter of coasters and menus. He had so many questions, but he held himself back. Seeing Dream so distressed felt wrong, somehow, and he didn’t want to cause such a worried look on his face again. “Can I… get you anything? Coffee? Some bread?” He wasn't sure what the proper etiquette was for hosting an impromptu visit from a celebrity. A gorgeous celebrity he had admired for years. Sitting two feet away from him. God have mercy.

“Thank you, but you do not need to prepare anything. I would not like to impose any more than I already have.”

A rumble that suspiciously sounded like it came from Dream’s stomach interrupted before Hob could say anything.

Dream closed his eyes momentarily, his cheekbones going pink, and Hob had to bite back a smile that would have looked impossibly fond.

“Well, I haven’t had lunch yet, and I was just about to make something, anyway. Care to join me?” Hob asked, trying to keep his tone casual. He had no idea what celebrities like Dream liked to eat for lunch, but he had a feeling that Dream didn’t want to be treated like a celebrity right now.

Dream pursed his lips before nodding slowly. “You are kind. I will pay for the meal.”

“Nah, it's fine. I'm the one who offered it. Just wait here, it'll be ready in about 15 minutes. And the pub doesn't open until 2 PM, so no one will see you,” Hob reassured him. He turned to go to the kitchen.

“May I help?”

Hob turned back to see that Dream was standing again.

“I do not feel comfortable doing nothing while you prepare something for me, especially since you would not allow me to pay for it. I wish to help in the kitchen, if that's all right.”

“Oh, um…” Hob suddenly wondered if the kitchen looked neat enough for visitors. They always kept it clean, of course, but the idea of having Dream in it was making him feel a tad self-conscious. “Are you sure?”

Dream nodded. “I know how to cook, and I will not get in the way.”

There it was again. Why did Dream always assume that he would be seen as getting in the way? Hob might have expected the opposite for someone of his status. He pushed down his curiosity and smiled.

“Sure, come on,” Hob waved Dream over to join him in the kitchen.

Dream was quiet and just stood patiently by the counter as Hob prepared the steaks and got the potatoes from the pantry, but he was looking around the kitchen with such curiosity and wonder in his eyes that made Hob smile.

Hob had been working in this kitchen for three years, and he realised he might be taking it for granted. But seeing Dream react to it now—subtle though it was—made Hob see the place again like he did the first time, with pride and appreciation of the fact that he was able to make his dream business a reality.

“When’s the last time you ate?” Hob asked to make conversation as he laid out the ingredients. “Did you come from set?” he nodded to Dream’ tuxedo. Now that he was calmer, he recognized it from the trailer of Dream’s latest movie.

Dream nodded. “There is catering provided for lunch, but I left right after we filmed the last scene.”

“Wait, did you run all the way here?” Hob frowned. “On an empty stomach?”

“It is only four blocks away.”

Hob had no idea they were filming so near his place. But more importantly, “You had breakfast, right?”

Dream blinked. “There was a chocolate chip cookie.”

Hob raised his eyebrows in disbelief. “Oh my god. Start chopping these, we gotta get some food in you quick.” He passed the bowl of potatoes over to Dream.

“I assure you, I’m all right,” Dream took the bowl with an amused smile. “It is hardly the first time I had worked for hours without eating.” He began to peel the potatoes.

Hob raised an eyebrow. “You realise that’s worse, right? Is that why you’re so thin?” He put the steaks on the pan and began basting them with butter and seasonings.

Dream’s smile turned fond. “It never seemed to be a problem. My employers actually seem to prefer that I am this slender; they said it is more appealing to the audience.”

Hob suddenly remembered his students at the high school he worked at before, how there was bullying about weight, and how fights and mental breakdowns occurred because of it.

Hob had to bite back a few choice words he wanted to say about those employers. Sure, he had always thought Dream looked beautiful, but he would never choose him being thin over him actually eating properly. And who decided anyway that being thin was the only way to be beautiful?

He let out a breath to calm himself and flipped the steaks in the pan. “Well, you don’t have to worry about any of that here. You’re appealing to me either way,” he winked, trying to lighten the mood.

Dream chuckled and glanced down for a second, and Hob immediately wanted to hear that sound from him again.

“You are kind,” Dream said as he set the potatoes to boil. “Do you always treat your trespassers this way?”

“You’re the only trespasser I’ve encountered so far,” Hob turned off the stove and transferred the steaks onto a plate. “And it’s really no problem, I do run a food business.”

“And yet you will not let me pay for the meal,” Dream arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow.

“You’re helping cook it,” Hob pointed out. “That’s the payment.”

Dream smiled in fond amusement again and didn’t say anything more. He removed his jacket and hung it on a hook before rolling up his sleeves. “I gather that the cheese and seasonings you brought out are for the potatoes? I saw the baked potato option on your menu earlier. I would like to start the process, if you would permit me to use your oven.”

“Um…” Hob was too busy trying not to stare at Dream’s toned forearms to process the words immediately. “Yeah, go ahead.”

So Dream attended to the potatoes while Hob chopped the vegetables to go with it. They worked well together, and Hob was glad to see that Dream visibly became more comfortable around him as they cooked. His shoulders relaxed and his smiles came a bit more easily.

Soon enough, they had placed all their food on one of the tables in the pub. Hob set up the plates and prepared a glass of lemon soda for each of them. He had briefly considered serving wine but he didn’t want to risk Dream getting the wrong idea.

“What time do you need to start preparing to open?” Dream asked as he cut a piece of steak. “I would not want to overstay.”

“We got more than an hour left, don’t worry. And we can cook more food if you’re still hungry after that,” Hob said sincerely.

Dream took a bite of the steak and his face lit up. “You are a good cook. This is perhaps one of the best steaks I have ever tasted.”

Hob chuckled and glanced down, his face warming. “Thanks, but you’re probably just really hungry.”

Dream smiled, then he seemed to realise something. “I don't even know your name yet. I apologise. At first I did not think it would be polite to ask for it after I had trespassed into your property, and afterwards it had slipped my mind.”

“Oh! Yeah, that’s fine, it slipped my mind, too.” Hob smiled and reached out a hand. “Robert Gadling. But my friends call me Hob.”

Dream shook his hand firmly. “A pleasure to meet you, Robert. I’m guessing you already know who I am, based on our conversations earlier,” he said playfully before retracting his hand.

“I do, yeah. And I said my friends call me Hob,” Hob raised an eyebrow.

Dream blinked. “Yes, I understood you.”

Hob just kept staring at him, barely able to suppress a fond smile.

Dream’s eyes widened a fraction. “You… see me as your friend?”

“Yeah? If that’s okay…?” Hob smiled sheepishly.

A soft smile slowly appeared on Dream’s face, and the room became brighter. “It is. In that case, you may call me Morpheus, if you wish. Dream is merely my screenname.”

Hob froze for a second, his fork halfway to his mouth. Did Dream—Morpheus—really just give him his real name? He was a private person, and as far as Hob knew, no one referred to Morpheus by that name, not even hardcore fans on the internet.

Hob snapped his mouth shut and nodded, setting his fork back down. “I’m glad to have you here. Morpheus.” He smiled.

Morpheus opened his mouth to reply, but his eyes grew wide as he looked at something behind Hob.

Hob turned and saw three of his staff coming in through the door. They were having a conversation and laughing, and hadn’t seen either of them yet.

“I must go,” Morpheus said suddenly, standing up.

Hob stood up and grabbed Morpheus’ arm without thinking, then pulled him along behind the bar and back into the kitchen.

“There’s a fire exit through here but… will you be okay?” Hob asked. He didn’t know what Morpheus was running away from, and it didn’t feel like his business to ask.

Morpheus pursed his lips and looked reluctantly at the sign that said FIRE EXIT.

Hob remembered how worried he had seemed earlier, the tension in his shoulders as if he was scared that Hob was going to kick him out.

“You can hide in my flat upstairs,” Hob heard himself say.

“What?” Morpheus said in surprise.

“Just until you feel that it’s safe to leave,” Hob hurriedly added.

“Boss? Are you in here?” Lou’s voice came through the open kitchen door around the corner. “Should we clear your plates?”

Hob met Morpheus’ eyes, and Morpheus nodded quickly.

Hob pulled Morpheus silently out through the fire exit—belatedly realising he had never let go of his arm—and led him up the stairs to his flat.

He fished his keys out of his pocket and quickly opened the door.

“You can stay here for now,” he said as they went in and he closed the door behind them.

He turned around and was suddenly greeted by the state of his living room.

Books and magazines cluttered the coffee table among an empty teacup and sandwich wrappers, the potted plant near the window was turned over on its side, and enough clothes were strewn on the couch to dress a family of four.

“I am so sorry—” Hob hurried to the couch and began gathering items of clothing in his arms. “Took these out of the dryer this morning, been meaning to fold them tonight.”

He carried the bundle of clothes to his room and tossed them unceremoniously on the bed. Then he ran back to the living room and righted the potted plant; he had knocked it over on his way out of the door that morning, and he had been so worried about next month’s rent that he just vaguely made a mental note to straighten things up when he got home.

He went to tidy up the coffee table—

“Hob.”

He instinctively glanced up at the sound of that voice saying his name.

Morpheus had a small smile on his face. “It’s alright. Your home is lovely. You have your work to attend to, and your employees will be wondering why you disappeared halfway through a meal.”

“Right,” Hob nodded and ran a hand through his hair to calm down. “Have a seat, and help yourself to anything in my fridge. I’ll pack up the rest of our lunch and bring it up here.”

“You don’t need to go to such trouble. I’ll be okay just resting here for a while.”

“It’s no trouble, Morpheus. We cooked it so you could eat, right? I’ll be right back.” Hob went out the door before Morpheus could protest further.

***

True to his word, Hob had packed up their lunch and brought it to his home. They finished their meal together and Hob said he told his employees that he had a friend over, hence the dining set up for two people, so Morpheus didn’t have to worry about anyone knowing he was there.

Afterwards, Hob left to help at the pub, but not before quickly scrawling his phone number on the notepad on the counter. “In case you need anything,” he had said.

Morpheus still wasn’t entirely certain why the man was so kind to him, especially after he had broken into his establishment. Hob did not even ask why he was running away, and yet he trusted him enough to leave him alone here in his home.

No matter, he would find a way to repay Robert Gadling for all his help. For now, there were other matters that needed attending.

He sat on Hob’s couch and took his phone out of his pocket, turning it on and bracing himself for the barrage of texts and voicemails that were sure to flood his notifications.

There were several messages of varying politeness asking him where he was and when he was coming back, and a few threats from Mr. Fry saying that if he didn’t come back immediately he would lose his job. Morpheus read all of them with relative indifference, having expected the messages already. He didn’t reply to anyone apart from Matthew.

Morpheus: I am well. I will be coming back on Monday at the studio in time for the photoshoot.

Then he opened the text that he was truly looking forward to seeing.

Blysse: 😯 Really? What happened? They let you take days off?

Morpheus: I will tell you the details when we see each other.

Blysse: ‘Kay! Thank youuu! I’m so excited to see you again! 💞💞💞

Morpheus smiled, he could almost see the twinkle in his sister’s eyes.

Morpheus: I very much look forward to seeing you again as well 🖤🤍

A new notification popped up, and he opened it.

Matthew: You got it, sir. You’re out of the city now, right? Mr. Fry coordinated with the rest of the team and they’re basically combing the area looking for you.

Morpheus sighed. A few people were aware of his reasons for asking Mr. Fry to let him leave for the weekend, but only Matthew seemed to really understand why it was so important to him. Morpheus was glad to have at least one person he could wholeheartedly trust at his work.

Morpheus: Thank you for letting me know, Matthew.

Morpheus put his phone down and leaned his head back against the couch. He might need a bit more help from his new friend.

***

Hob removed his apron and hung it on the hook in the kitchen. Now that his shift was done, he wondered what he should make for dinner. He didn’t want to take any of the ingredients from the pub while there were still customers coming in, and lately he didn’t have the energy to cook for himself so he wasn’t sure what ingredients he still had at his flat. Maybe he would just order takeout again.

He leaned against the counter and checked his phone. Still no texts from Morpheus. Hob had been half-expecting to get a message saying that Morpheus was leaving already, but there was nothing. He couldn’t text Morpheus because he didn’t know his number, and earlier he wasn’t sure if he should ask.

“Boss, don’t forget your jacket,” Merv’s voice made him look up.

“That’s not mine,” Hob said without thinking, seeing Morpheus’ jacket on the hook.

Lou walked by bringing in a tray of dishes to the sink. “Maybe it belongs to his friend from earlier,” she said cheekily.

“Oh, is that friend coming back, then?” Merv asked, with the less-than-subtle implication of Can we meet him?

“I’ll see you all tomorrow,” Hob said good-naturedly and took the jacket before going out the fire exit.

Maybe Morpheus did leave already but just didn’t let him know, that was always possible. He had his jacket, though. Would Morpheus come back for it? Probably not, but Hob wanted to hope he would.

He reached the top of the stairs and tried the handle on his door. Locked. Morpheus really must have left and locked it behind him.

Hob sighed as he took his key out and unlocked it, trying not to be too disappointed.

He stepped into his flat and froze as the smell of something cooking reached him. Then he noticed that his coffee table had been cleared of clutter, the books and magazines neatly stacked beside each other. Even the bits of soil that had spilled from the overturned potted plant earlier were gone now.

In a daze, he closed the door behind him and walked towards the kitchen.

The unwashed dishes that he’d left in the sink this morning were now clean and placed in the drying rack, and he didn’t know what Morpheus was cooking at his stove but it smelled delicious.

Morpheus turned at the sound of his footsteps. “Hob. Good evening. You’re just in time for dinner.” He turned off the stove and transferred the contents of the skillet onto a plate. “I hope you don’t mind. You did say I could help myself to anything in your fridge,” he gave a small smile.

Hob saw that Morpheus had cooked buttered salmon with sautéed cauliflower and roasted peanuts, all lined up on the counter now.

“You cooked for me?” Hob immediately wanted to kick himself after saying the words. Obviously Morpheus had cooked for himself, and Hob just happened to arrive when it was done.

“Yes,” Morpheus nodded. “It’s the least I could do after all your help today. Though if you’ve eaten already it’s alright, I can eat by myself and refrigerate the leftovers.”

“No, I haven’t had dinner yet.” Hob’s mind was still recovering from the whiplash of thinking Morpheus had gone and then seeing him having cooked for the both of them. “Oh, you left your jacket in the pub,” he held it out.

“Ah, that’s right. Thank you.” Morpheus took the jacket from him, causing their fingers to brush, and Hob wondered if the rest of his hand was just as soft.

“Shall I take these plates to the table, then?” Hob asked, a little louder than what was probably necessary.

“Let me help. I shall just hang my jacket on your coat rack.”

They set the table for their dinner, in a manner that was so similar to how they set up lunch just a few hours earlier, and Hob couldn’t help but feel that it was so domestic. How had his day turned out like this?

“You didn’t have to clean up, you know,” Hob said as they ate. “I’d say you didn’t have to cook either, but I’m not complaining about these,” he gestured to the food. The salmon was so soft it nearly melted in his mouth, and the vegetables were crisp.

The corners of Morpheus’ mouth lifted. “It’s alright, I did not have much else to do, anyway. And… I have one more favour to ask of you.” He glanced down, then looked up in hesitation at Hob through his eyelashes.

Hob found himself looking back in anticipation. He didn’t know what he was expecting—or hoping for—but he seemed unable to look away from those blue eyes.

“My assistant had texted me that my employers are actively looking for me; it would be more difficult for me to leave the city now. Would you perhaps be able to help me find accommodations for the night? I am not very familiar with the area, and I would prefer someplace where they would not easily find me.”

“Oh, well…” Hob frowned thoughtfully. He knew several inns that were a short drive away, but he wasn’t sure whether any of them would be inconspicuous enough. “What if…” he tapped his fork nervously on his plate. “What if you stay here? There’s a spare toothbrush in the bathroom.”

“What?” Morpheus looked taken aback. “You don’t even know why I want to hide from my employers. How could you trust me to sleep under the same roof as you?”

Hob raised an eyebrow. “If you wanted to steal from me for whatever reason, you’ve had hours of opportunity already. If you wanted to harm me, you could have ambushed me when I came in or poisoned this dinner. I have no reason to think you’re dangerous.”

Morpheus blinked, then shook his head fondly. “How do you know I have not poisoned your food? Perhaps it is a slow-acting poison.”

“Just to keep me alive long enough to compliment your cooking?” Hob ate a mouthful of vegetables.

Morpheus chuckled. “I suppose, if I am to stay here, then I must tell you why I am hiding from them.”

Hob shook his head. “No, you don’t have to do that. It’s your personal business, really.” He didn’t want Morpheus to feel like he had to keep paying for his stay.

Morpheus looked thoughtful for a while. “I would like to talk about it. To a friend.” He met Hob’s eyes.

Hob felt a certain warmth in his chest at that look, and he smiled. “Then yeah, I’d love to listen.”

So Hob did. There was a gleam in Morpheus’ eyes while he talked about his two sisters who lived together, one older than him and the other one younger, though he was evidently upset that he wasn’t able to spend more time with them.

“I have no other obligations at work until Monday,” Morpheus added, somewhat defensively, after telling Hob how his bodyguards spotted him before he got too far from the set and chased him for four blocks before he decided to hide in The White Horse in a panic.

Hob leaned back in his chair as he took all that in. He had employees too, but he couldn’t imagine controlling their lives like that.

“Your manager,” Hob said carefully, not wanting to offend Morpheus. “Erasmus Fry? Has he always been like that?”

Morpheus nodded. “Yes. He was also the one who insisted that I have bodyguards. He had said it was for my sake, but as of late I have begun to wonder if he just wanted me to be watched at all times.” His voice had gone a little quieter, but he must have noticed Hob’s worried face because he put on a smile, though his eyes looked tired. “I will bring the plates to the sink.” He stood up and began stacking them.

“Hey, you cooked,” Hob reminded him, carefully taking the small stack of plates. “That means I clean. Feel free to use the shower in the meantime. I’ll lend you some clothes.” At Morpheus’ surprised look, he added. “You really wanna sleep in the same clothes you wore to work and your impromptu jogging?”

Morpheus pursed his lips. “I suppose not. Very well.”

Hob got some grey sweatpants and a brown sweater from his room and handed them to Morpheus, then went ahead and washed the dishes.

It had been quite a long day. When he woke up this morning and decided to spend some time in the pub by himself, he hadn’t been expecting for any of this to happen. It was strange; he knew Morpheus was a celebrity, had watched his movies for years, but when they were spending time together, it was almost like he forgot that Morpheus was an actor. They were just two friends having a meal, talking about their families.

“Where is your laundry area? I would like to wash my clothes.” Morpheus’ voice took him out of his musings.

“Oh, it’s just over…” Hob trailed off after he turned and saw Morpheus.

His damp ruffled hair was sticking up in places and falling across his forehead, giving his face a much softer look.

And then the sweater.

Hob had chosen that sweater to lend him because it was one of his most comfortable ones. He hadn’t considered the fact that because it had always been loose on him, it would be even more so on Morpheus.

Hob could see his collarbones, and the barest glimpse of his shoulders as the wide neckline hung loosely around him. The sleeves reached down to cover half of his hands.

Hob thought for a second that he had swallowed his own tongue. But he cleared his throat and forced himself to speak. “It’s just over there, through that door,” he gestured to the back of the kitchen.

Morpheus nodded. “Thank you.” Then he disappeared to the laundry area.

Hob took a shaky breath and leaned against the sink. He had invited Morpheus to stay the entire night. Wearing his clothes. Looking like that.

God give me strength.

***

“You sure you don’t want the bed?” Hob said as he placed a pillow and blankets on the couch. “I don’t mind sleeping on the couch. I’m the one who suggested you stay here instead of a fancy hotel, after all.”

Morpheus shook his head. “You have already been exceedingly hospitable, Hob. I will not take your bed from you. Thank you for these.”

“No problem, let me know if you need anything else. And um…” Hob shifted on his feet. “Say goodbye to me, before you leave? Just so I know you're alright and you didn't get kidnapped from my flat by your manager or something.”

Morpheus smiled. “Of course, and I will make certain that you will not get in trouble for harbouring a fugitive.”

Hob chuckled. “Alright, then. Good night, Morpheus. It was really nice meeting you.”

“And I thank you for today, Hob. I have enjoyed your company. Good night.”

Hob smiled and headed to his room.

***

Hob had no idea how long he had been staring at the ceiling, his mind too restless for sleep. He had never expected to meet Morpheus Evermoore, let alone befriend him. He was already lucky to have spent as much time with him as he had. And yet, he couldn't help but feel that it was too soon for Morpheus to leave tomorrow.

It wasn't just because Hob enjoyed his company—although he very much did—but also because Morpheus looked like he needed more rest. He seemed tired already after dinner, and given what Hob knew of his less-than-ideal eating habits because of work, Hob wouldn't be surprised if he didn't regularly get proper sleep either.

Hob sighed. He shouldn't get too invested in someone who he might never even see again, even though Morpheus had called him a friend. If Morpheus was so busy that he hardly found time for his little sister whom he clearly adored, then what more for someone he only knew for half a day?

Hob turned over to his side and closed his eyes, willing himself to fall asleep.

It must have worked somehow, because the next thing he knew, sunlight was streaming in through his curtains.

He got up blearily and rubbed the sleepiness from his eyes. He was halfway to his door when he remembered he had a guest.

He immediately went to the living room to check on him, partly because he wasn’t entirely sure that yesterday wasn’t just a dream.

There he was, bundled up under the blanket, hair falling softly across on the pillow.

Hob felt himself smile. Morpheus looked so relaxed, no crease on his forehead as he slept soundly on the couch. Hob wished Morpheus could have more rest days like that.

He quietly went back to his room and got dressed for the day. He knew from checking the kitchen last night that he didn’t have much food anymore, and it was time to buy ingredients. He supposed he could order takeout for their breakfast, but he didn’t think Morpheus got to eat home-cooked meals often, and he could at least cook him some good food before he had to leave today.

The thought of him leaving made Hob’s heart sink, but he pushed down those emotions and just focused on making a mental shopping list.

He went back to the living room, making sure not to wake Morpheus. He got a notepad and pen from the counter and taped a note to the front door.

Went to buy food for breakfast. Be back in a tick.

Hob.

The shop was just around the corner, hopefully he would be back before Morpheus even woke up. He went out the door and locked it behind him, not wanting to leave a sleeping Morpheus to possibly be burgled.

He got to the shop early enough that he was able to buy what he needed without having to deal with crowds or long lines at the register. He checked his watch and was glad to see that he would have time to cook breakfast and eat with Morpheus before he had to go down to the pub.

“Sir! Excuse me!” A woman wearing a grey business jacket with her hair in a bun ran up to him. “Do you live around here? Do you work at The White Horse?”

Hob glanced at the ID hanging around her neck bearing the logo of a local news program. “Did something happen?”

“Some sources say that Dream Evermoore was spotted here early afternoon yesterday. Did you happen to see him? There are rumours that he ran away from set after their last day of filming.” The woman brought out a small notebook and pen.

Hob couldn’t contain the surprised look on his face, so he decided to go along with it. “Oh wow, Dream Evermoore was here? I did hear some people at the pub talking about how they saw someone who looked like him at the bus station. I thought they were just having a laugh, but maybe it was really him, huh?”

The woman nodded as she quickly scribbled down notes. “Bus station. Thank you, sir. Call us if you see him around,” she handed him a card. “We might film an interview in the future.”

Hob took the card and smiled politely.

As the woman walked away, Hob paid more attention to his surroundings. Other reporters and paparazzis were definitely all over the block in disguises of varying subtlety. There were even a few of the uniformed men that Hob saw through the window chasing Morpheus yesterday.

He made his way up the steps to his flat, resisting the urge to run. He unlocked his door and quickly stepped in, locking it again behind him.

“Hob?” Morpheus’ voice sounded concerned. “Are you alright?”

Hob turned to see him on the couch folding the blankets. “Yeah, I’m fine, just…” he opened the curtain a tiny bit and peeked out the window. “Yup, they’re still there. See for yourself.”

Morpheus frowned and went to look through the small gap in the curtain, his arm almost pressing against Hob’s. “I see. My assistant Matthew was correct. I saw his message when I woke up; apparently Mr. Fry believes I am still in the area, and has ordered my guards to look for me. I would not be surprised if he was the one who tipped off the media as well.”

Hob sighed and turned to look at Morpheus. “I’m sorry—” Morpheus’ face was inches away from his. Morpheus was still looking out the window, but Hob’s nose would touch his cheekbone if Hob only leaned a bit forward.

Hob looked down to avert his gaze but then his eyes landed on Morpheus’ bare shoulder, visible because of the sweater that had slipped down even lower. The slope of his neck was more noticeable too, fair and smooth skin all the way down to his collarbones.

Hob quickly stepped away and began walking to the kitchen. “Any chance they won’t be there anymore after we eat breakfast?”

Morpheus followed him and shook his head. “It is unlikely. I would have to find a way to get past them, and then find accommodations where they would not think to look for me.” He leaned back against the counter with his arms crossed, a frown forming between his eyebrows.

Something ached in Hob’s chest at the sight. All the stress that had seeped out of Morpheus since yesterday seemed to be coming back.

“How about— And tell me if you’re uncomfortable with this in any way…” Hob kept his eyes on the slices of bread that he was preparing to toast. “How about you stay here until Sunday morning, and I’ll give you a lift to the next city so you can get to your sister’s birthday?” His hands felt suddenly cold, but he was glad that they were working well enough to spread butter on the bread.

“You would do that for me?” Morpheus said in surprise.

“Yeah, I mean, you’re already here, so…” Hob lets out a nervous laugh. “Sorry, I’m explaining it badly. I just meant…” he looked at Morpheus to hopefully force himself to find the right words, but Morpheus’ soft smile just disarms him further.

“I understand what you mean, Hob. Don’t worry. Admittedly I… I feel comfortable. With you.” He glanced down, his eyelashes catching the light. “Last night was the best sleep I’ve had in a long time, knowing that I didn’t have to worry about anything in the morning.”

Hob just stared and smiled for a few seconds before realising he should say something. “I’m glad to hear that, Morpheus. You’ll always have a safe space here. So, you agree with my plan…?”

Morpheus met his eyes and nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of his own lips. “Indeed I do. Although, I might need to buy some clothes.”

“I can go down to the shop later. They’ve got slippers and underwear and soaps, but not really sets of clothes. You can keep borrowing mine, though, if that’s okay…?” Hob asked hesitantly as he put the slices of bread in the toaster.

Morpheus’ eyebrows lifted.

“Or— Or— I can go to the mall down the next block,” Hob stammered. “They’ve got a department store and—”

“Hob.” Morpheus was smiling in amusement, then his expression changed into a more somber one. “I do wish you would not be so nervous around me. Have I done anything to make you feel that way?”

“No, no,” Hob hurriedly said. “It’s just…” he sighed. “I’ve watched all of your movies. I’ve admired you for years. And now I just don’t wanna come across as creepy. I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable, Morpheus.”

“You have not caused me discomfort in our entire time together, Hob,” Morpheus said, and there seemed to be a hint of sadness in his eyes. “And I suppose I understand better now. Why you are helping me. I thank you for appreciating my work.”

“Woah, wait,” Hob stepped closer to him. “To clarify, I’m not just helping you because you’re a famous actor, okay? You walked into my pub looking scared, of course I wanted to help.”

“I broke into your pub.”

“Because your manager’s practically holding you hostage,” Hob pointed out. “Morpheus, you deserve better than how he’s treating you. And I really hope you get out of that situation when you return to work. There’s gotta be a long line of managers wanting to work for you, right?” Hob hadn’t meant to be so blunt, but as soon as he said out loud that Morpheus had looked scared, it all came rushing out. He didn’t want to think of Morpheus looking like that the entire time he was at work.

Morpheus nodded and gave a small smile. “I did not want to seem ungrateful by replacing him, but you are right. It is time he realises that he cannot control my life nearly as much as he wishes to. Thank you, Hob.” He chuckled. “I did not think I looked quite so frightened yesterday. That must have been unsettling to see from someone who just appeared in your pub.”

“Not really. You also looking devastatingly gorgeous sort of balanced it all out,” Hob said to lighten the mood.

Morpheus looked at him in surprise and didn’t say anything.

“What?” Hob raised an eyebrow. “You have no idea how handsome you look?”

Morpheus blinked. “It is quite flattering to hear from one such as you. I would imagine you have some rather high standards. Considering what you see in the mirror every day.”

Now it was Hob’s turn to gape at him in surprise. Morpheus was looking at him with a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, and eyes shining with something that dangerously looked like banked intent—

DING!

Hob startled and stepped away. “That’d be the toast,” he blurted out, turning around to carefully place the hot slices of bread on a plate, feeling his face warm. “I’ll just fry some eggs and bacon, and breakfast will be ready in a few minutes.”

“Shall I make us some orange juice, then? I saw a juicer in your pantry last night.”

“Sure, go ahead,” Hob said, still keeping his back turned. He wasn’t sure if Morpheus had been joking, but the look in Morpheus’ eyes seemed all too real, and the fire it lit in Hob’s gut was definitely real. And it was all a lot to deal with before coffee. He didn’t want to risk misreading things and doing something stupid.

Fortunately, breakfast went by pretty smoothly. They talked like usual, and Hob felt more relaxed now that Morpheus had said he never felt any discomfort around him. Hob did feel maybe very slightly disappointed that Morpheus hadn’t made any similar remarks or advances like he did earlier, but eventually he managed to brush it off and just decided to enjoy Morpheus’ company while he was still here.

Before he went down to the pub, Hob reminded Morpheus that he had free reign of the kitchen, as well as the telly and any of the books.

Hob ate his lunch at the pub like usual, and packed up some food to bring Morpheus, just in case he hadn’t cooked anything for himself yet.

“Oh, thank you,” Morpheus said when Hob brought him the barbecued lamb with chips on the side. He took the paper bag and frowned. “This is a lot. Have you eaten yet?” he glanced at Hob.

Hob opened his mouth to reply. “No,” he heard himself say. “No, uh, not yet.”

Morpheus smiled. “Then you can share this with me. Come on.” He led the way to the dining table and began setting up the food.

Hob followed, grateful that he didn’t eat a lot for lunch a few minutes ago.

“I’ll be going to the shop later to get your supplies,” Hob said as they ate. “Do you have any allergies to certain soaps?”

Morpheus shook his head. “Anything will do.”

“Any preferences for clothes, then? I can hand them to you before I head out so you can shower if you like.” Hob remembered something. “Oh, you usually wear black and white for your interviews and events. Was that your choice or is it more of a branding thing?”

Morpheus smiled. “It is my choice, yes. I’ve always leaned towards monochromatic colours ever since I was young, and fortunately I was allowed to continue that. They even decided to incorporate it in some of the roles I play, like the mainly blue colour scheme of that prince character two years ago, and the tuxedo in this latest film.”

Hob nodded. “I think I’ve got some black and white clothes you can borrow, yeah.”

Morpheus tilted his head slightly. “You would accommodate even that? You are very kind to me, Hob Gadling.”

“Or maybe you just look really good in those colours and I like seeing you in them,” Hob teased.

Morpheus chuckled. “Then I am fortunate that you look good in any colour, and I am allowed to enjoy the view frequently.”

Hob looked down at his chips to hopefully hide the flush on his cheeks. “Do you have to one-up me everytime?”

Morpheus laughed a bit louder this time, and Hob had to look up again in order to not miss it.

“Oh, speaking of the shop.” Morpheus stood up and got something from the counter before returning to his seat. “I will give you some cash for the supplies. I’d hand you my debit card but my name’s on it and I’d rather not drag you into this whole manhunt for me.” He took a few bills out of his wallet and held them out to Hob.

“No, that’s not necessary,” Hob said, not making a move to take them. “I offered to help, remember?”

Morpheus shook his head. “You are already feeding and housing me for free. Surely I can pay for a few socks?”

“You can, but you don’t have to.”

“Hob Gadling, take these or I will leave.”

Hob was taken aback for a moment, but he narrowed his eyes. “You’re bluffing.”

A smile of amusement appeared on Morpheus’ lips. “Yes, I am. Take the cash, anyway?” He tilted his head slightly to the side and batted his eyelashes.

Hob took the money with a playful huff. “That’s unfair. You’re using your looks to get what you want.”

“Did you not do the same when you asked me to stay here?”

“What? I thought you said it was my kindness that got you to stay!”

“It is several things.”

They both laughed, and their borderline flirty banter came up again a few times throughout the entire meal, and Hob was glad to see that they were both perfectly comfortable with it.

***

“I do not remember why I ever liked this game,” Morpheus said jokingly as Hob’s knight took his bishop.

After they had finished dinner and prepared for bed, he had spotted a small magnetic chessboard among the books on Hob’s shelf. He made a passing remark about how he used to play chess with his two sisters when they were children, but had not had the chance to do so again in recent years.

Hob asked if he wanted to play now, and that was how they ended up on the couch with the chessboard between them. Hob was in a light green shirt and blue sweatpants, while Morpheus was wearing a black shirt with a white-and-grey checkered pyjama bottoms.

“You don’t?” Hob said in an equally playful tone. “Well I’m having a lot of fun for some reason.”

“Could the reason be because you are eviscerating my team with yours?” Morpheus arched an eyebrow.

Hob grinned. “I would have thought you’d be amazing at chess, seeing as it’s monochromatic.”

Morpheus shook his head fondly. “Your mind’s logic continues to fascinate me.”

Hob chuckled and proceeded to be merciless in how he took over the board. Morpheus stared at him at every chance he could. Hob had a certain warmth to him that Morpheus had not seen in anyone else, and everytime he smiled it was like the sun coming out from behind the clouds.

He knew that Hob recognized him when their eyes first met, and Morpheus had just been hoping that he wouldn’t call the police on him for breaking and entering.

When it didn’t seem like Hob was going to do any of the sort, Morpheus expected the usual reactions of people running into him: asking for autographs, selfies, or a blurted out, Oh my god, you’re Dream Evermoore!

But Hob’s first reaction was to ask if he was alright, which admittedly took him off-guard. He told himself it was an understandable reaction if Hob had seen him being chased, but then Hob offered to cook for him, and didn’t ask any questions about his new film even when Hob voiced out recognizing his tuxedo as coming from set.

Hob clarifying this morning about his reasons for helping Morpheus was honestly sweet of him, and Morpheus could not help the remark he had made about Hob being handsome. It was a sincere remark, one that he had worried might have been an overstep based on how Hob seemed to keep his back turned on him afterwards, and so he was relieved when Hob continued such banter during lunch.

Their chess game ended soon enough, with Hob as the unsurprising victor. They put away the board and decided to watch some cooking shows, at Hob’s recommendation. Morpheus had learned to cook for himself as soon as he was living alone for his work, but his skills were nowhere near what the contestants on the show were displaying, and he was fascinated to be learning a lot.

As the evening grew later, Morpheus’ eyelids grew heavier, and he found himself leaning against Hob’s shoulder.

He immediately sat up straight as soon as he realised it. “Sorry,” he rubbed his eyes. “I did not mean to use you as a pillow.”

“I didn’t really mind, you can keep doing that while we watch. Unless you want me to turn off the telly instead?” Hob reached for the remote on the armrest.

Morpheus considered it. “No, I would like to keep watching. You are certain I can lean on you?”

Hob gave a soft smile. “‘Course. Anytime.”

Morpheus lay back on his shoulder, shifting into a more comfortable position. He thought he heard Hob’s breath hitch, but his mind was too sleepy to be sure, and he trusted that Hob would voice out any discomfort if there were any.

The cooking show went on, and Morpheus vaguely remembered wanting to cook some of those dishes for Hob before sleep overtook him.

***

Hob woke up to what sounded like an ad for a vacuum cleaner. He blinked himself awake and squinted in confusion at the telly. He must have fallen asleep on the couch, his muscles stiff from sitting all night.

Then something shifted beside him, and he looked to see that Morpheus was sound asleep on his shoulder.

Hob was tempted to nuzzle into the soft hair tickling his cheek and inhale, but he wouldn’t know how to explain himself if it woke Morpheus.

Another, louder commercial blared from the telly, and Morpheus flinched awake. Hob reached for the remote and lowered the volume.

“Were we here all night?” Morpheus asked sleepily. “Did I keep you here? I’m sorry, you should have woken me,” he stifled a yawn with his hand.

“Nah, I didn’t even realise I’d fallen asleep,” Hob said, which was true. Morpheus snuggling against him kept his heart rate up for a while, but eventually he relaxed into it and apparently fell asleep. He stood up and stretched his stiff muscles a bit. “Breakfast?”

Morpheus nodded. “Please.” He lay back down on the couch and curled up, his eyes closed again.

Hob smiled at the sight before heading to the kitchen.

***

They were lounging on the couch again after their nightly routines, and Hob suggested another game of chess, which Morpheus wrinkled his nose at and politely declined.

Hob flipped through the channels, looking for something they could watch. He didn’t want to go to sleep yet, knowing this would be their last night together. He eventually landed on one that usually streamed reruns of films.

“Oh look, it’s you,” Hob said to Morpheus as the character of The Sandman appeared on the screen. “This was about three years ago, right?”

Morpheus nodded. “The fantasy genre was quite popular at the time, and the writing team suggested I play my namesake from the myths.”

“Now that I think about it, I don’t think I’ve ever watched this movie properly. I was just starting the pub when it came out, so I didn’t have time to go to the cinema. One of my buddies held a watch party when it was released for a limited time on streaming sites, but I was only able to stay around for the first half.”

“We could watch it now,” Morpheus offered.

“Really?” Hob said in mild surprise. “It wouldn’t be weird?”

Morpheus smiled and shook his head. “Not at all, don’t worry. Besides, I rarely get the chance to see my own work for myself. I should like to know if I did any good.”

“I can guarantee that you did good in the first half.”

Morpheus chuckled. He looked so comfortable and at home, leaning back on the couch wearing a black hoodie and white sweatpants. Hob almost just stared at him instead of watching the movie.

Morpheus got up to make some popcorn, insisting that Hob stay on the couch instead of helping him in any way.

And so they watched the movie together with a bowl of fresh popcorn between them and some cans of soda.

“That was not half bad,” Morpheus said as the credits rolled.

“Are you kidding?” Hob turned to him. “It was incredible! I can’t believe I hadn’t seen this sooner.”

Morpheus smiled and glanced down for a moment. “I’m afraid you might be biased, my friend.”

“No way.” Hob put the empty popcorn bowl on the coffee table and brushed off any crumbs from the couch. “It’s one of your most popular films, right? So clearly I’m not the only one who thinks it’s great.”

Morpheus smiled at him. “Thank you. And it was indeed quite fun making it.”

“I bet. And how did you do the voice? Was that like, special effects or something?”

“The voice?” Morpheus tilted his head in confusion.

“The Sandman voice. How was it done?”

“Oh. That was just my voice, there were no special effects necessary.”

“Wow. Can you still do it?”

Morpheus fixed him with a gaze much like The Sandman’s, and Hob could almost imagine his eyes being all black and dotted with stars. “You are asking if I can still speak like The Sandman?”

It instantly dawned on Hob just what he had gotten himself into, and he couldn’t look away as Morpheus practically crawled across the small gap between them on the couch.

“Would you like to know if I can see your daydreams, Hob Gadling?”

Hob felt the armrest behind him and realised he had been leaning back, and now Morpheus was looming over him.

He swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry.

“Perhaps we have already met. In your dreams. But men forget in waking hours.” Morpheus’ voice was quiet, his nose almost touching Hob’s.

“Morpheus…” Hob managed. He could feel that his face was flushed, and it was difficult to string together a sentence with Morpheus looking at him with flames behind his eyes, his breath warm on Hob’s face.

Some hesitance appeared on Morpheus’ features, and he pulled back slightly. “Am I causing you discomfort? Tell me and I shall stop.”

“No,” Hob gripped the front of the hoodie, so tightly his knuckles paled. “Don’t,” his voice came out a whisper, and he met Morpheus’ gaze, showing with his eyes what he couldn’t articulate with his words.

Morpheus’ breath hitched, and he descended on Hob, capturing his lips.

Hob’s hands went up to Morpheus’ hair, and he groaned at how impossibly soft it felt. Morpheus put more of his weight against him, and Hob arched into the touch. He angled their mouths to deepen the kiss, and Morpheus welcomed Hob’s tongue with his own.

Hob sighed at the sensation of the heat in Morpheus’ mouth, tasting of buttered popcorn and the comforts of home. Hob could have spent the entire night like that, being pressed into his couch by Morpheus with their tongues gliding against each other.

They parted only enough to catch their breaths, their foreheads pressed together.

“Do you…” Hob’s voice sounded hoarse to his own ears. “Wanna sleep in my bed tonight? We don’t have to do anything, we can literally just sleep. Before I drive you out of the city tomorrow…?”

Morpheus smiled down at him, and any embarrassment that Hob might have felt in that question dissipated in the face of that brightness. “That sounds lovely.”

So they did just that, though they continued to make out for a good long while before literally just sleeping in each other’s arms. Hob had no complaints.

***

“I have a press tour coming up, for the new film. And I will be busy for around two months. But afterwards… might I be able to visit your pub again?” Morpheus asked as they drove out of the mall parking lot.

The crowd of people looking for Morpheus had fortunately lessened enough that they were able to get into Hob’s car and have a quick shopping trip at the department store to buy Morpheus some clothes for his sister’s party.

“Of course,” Hob said, then he remembered something. “But, ah… The pub might not be there anymore at that time, and I might be living somewhere else. But we can definitely still see each other, I’ll text you my new address.”

They had cuddled for a while before breakfast, and shared a few soft kisses after, but neither of them had brought up any labels of sorts for what they might be now, and Hob was happy to know that Morpheus still wanted to see him in the future. Morpheus even gave his number to Hob without Hob having to ask.

“Hold on,” Morpheus frowned. “You’re shutting down The White Horse? Why?”

Hob’s fingers drummed nervously on the steering wheel, it was something he avoided discussing even with his other friends, as it made him feel like too much of a failure. “It’s… well, it’s not making enough money. I might not be able to make next month’s rent for the building, and I’d have no choice but to close down the pub and move somewhere cheaper.”

“You brought me food from your pub for three days,” Morpheus sounded horrified. “For free! Hob, why didn’t you say anything? I could have paid for all of those—”

“Hey, hey, now, none of that,” Hob chided him. “Like I said, I offered to help, remember? And calm down, love, it’s not like you’ve driven me to homelessness. I’ve made arrangements with my staff, I’ll be helping them find other jobs before I close down the pub. And I can get back to teaching again while I figure stuff out.”

Morpheus was silent for a while, and Hob’s eyes were on the road so he wasn’t sure what Morpheus looked like, but when he spoke again he was much calmer.

“You told me that it was your dream to own a pub. Am I remembering correctly?”

“Yeah, but, you know…” Hob shrugged, though he felt touched that Morpheus remembered him mentioning that in passing during dinner. “It’s just how it is, sometimes.”

“What seems to be the problem? Your food is excellent, and I like to believe the service is commendable as well.”

“Too much competition,” Hob said, unable to keep the tiredness from his voice. “I mean, I’ll still do what I can, but there’s lots of new restaurants in the area now, and then there’s the mall. It might be better if I just focus on finding new jobs for the staff.”

“So the main issue is visibility, yes? You need to be known by potentially new customers?”

“Yeah, that’s what I’ll be working on when I get back home.”

“I see.” Morpheus pulled out his phone and began typing. “I don’t suppose you have any objections if I post on my social media pages that I’ve had a good dining experience at The White Horse and tag its location?”

“What?” Hob looked over in surprise at Morpheus before turning his eyes back on the road again. “Morpheus, you don’t have to do that. You don’t owe me anything, really.”

“I am aware. I simply want to help out a friend. We are… friends, yes?”

There was a hesitation in Morpheus’ voice, and Hob couldn’t tell if it was because he wanted Hob to say that they were more than that, or if he was hoping that Hob would take the hint that they were just friends from now on.

“If that’s what you want,” Hob said and gave him a smile, figuring it was a safe enough answer.

“What I want is to be an investor of The White Horse. Once I get a new manager, they will be in contact with you about the details while I am on the press tour.”

“What?” Hob said incredulously as they stopped at a traffic light. He turned to look at Morpheus. “That’s— Isn’t that too much? You don’t need to do all of that.”

“I have some very fond memories of the place, and I’m afraid I have grown quite attached to it,” Morpheus smiled. “You have my word that I will back out at any point once you feel that it can stand on its own again, and you will remain the sole owner.”

“That’s not even what I’m thinking about! Morpheus, are you sure you really wanna do that? Not just because you feel like you have to return the favour or…?”

Morpheus reached over and placed his hand on Hob’s. “You are dear to me, Hob. That is why I care about your happiness. And I meant what I said about the place holding fond memories for me. Will you allow me to help?” he held up his phone to show Hob what he had planned on posting.

There were a few pictures of The White Horse from the internet, Hob recognized them as the few they had uploaded as ads. And Morpheus had captioned them by saying that the food and service were excellent, and he would definitely come back from time to time.

“You haven’t posted it yet…?”

“I will not do so without your agreement,” Morpheus brushed his thumb across the back of Hob’s hand.

Hob was almost overwhelmed by the absolute care that Morpheus put towards his feelings, and he had to take a breath before he could speak again. He nodded, “Yeah. Yeah, okay. Go ahead.”

Morpheus smiled and let go of Hob’s hand as the traffic light changed and they had to move again.

They spent the rest of the short ride in comfortable silence, with Morpheus tapping away on his phone.

A few minutes later, they arrived at what looked like a fancy restaurant, complete with a garden and a fountain in the middle of it.

“Is this the place?” Hob said as they parked.

“Yes,” Morpheus nodded. “We used to go here often as children, and my sister wanted to celebrate her birthday here.”

They got out of the car, and Hob walked Morpheus to the entrance.

“I guess this is it, then?” Hob tried to sound casual, but even he could feel that his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Thank you for everything, Hob Gadling,” Morpheus held his gaze. “Truly, you have been a wonderful companion in our short time together.”

“I could say the same thing about you. I’m glad you chose my place to break into.”

They chuckled, and then there was nothing more to say. They stared at each other, neither one willing to be the first to leave.

Hob steeled his nerves and moved towards Morpheus’ lips—

“Morpheus! You’re really here!”

Hob flinched away and saw a young woman in a beautiful dress run out of the doors to embrace Morpheus.

“Blysse,” Morpheus returned the gesture. “You have grown so tall now. Any more and we would be of the same height.”

Blysse laughed and pulled away from the hug.

“This is my friend, Robert,” Morpheus smiled at him. “He has been very kind to me. I might not have been able to be here without his help.”

“Don’t say that,” Hob returned the smile, then looked at Morpheus’ sister. “Your brother really wanted to be here, I’m sure he would have found a way no matter what.”

“Thank you so much, Mr. Robert!” Blysse beamed at him. “Would you like to stay for the party?”

“Oh, really? I’m not sure I’m following the dress code,” he chuckled, looking at the siblings’ formal outfits.

“I have some spare clothes in your car, you can borrow some,” Morpheus said.

“Great!” Blysse smiled. “I’ll see you both inside! I’ll tell Tia you’re here!” she said to Morpheus before running back inside.

“Morpheus,” Hob said uncertainly. “I know you borrowed my clothes, but I’m not sure it could go the other way around.” His shoulders alone are significantly broader.

Morpheus smiled playfully. “I think you’ll find that there is at least one suit in your car that is your exact size.”

Hob looked at him in surprise. “You set me up,” he said accusingly, but he was already smiling.

“Perhaps.” Morpheus’ eyes were twinkling. “And I believe we were interrupted earlier.” He stepped forward and pressed their lips together, his hands holding Hob’s face.

Hob held Morpheus’ waist, their kiss soft and lingering with the barest brush of their tongues.

“Hob,” Morpheus said quietly, still holding Hob’s face. “You have truly been a beautiful presence in my life, and I will not ask you to wait for me—”

“I will,” Hob said, meeting Morpheus’ gaze. “I’ll wait anyway.”

Morpheus looked at him with something like awe before kissing him again. “I think you better get dressed now before we get too distracted to attend the party.”

Hob chuckled. “Good point.”

They got the suit from the car and headed inside to the bathrooms.

“Since I will be an investor for your establishment, it only makes sense that we would be in constant communication with each other.”

“I thought you said your new manager will contact me?” Hob raised an eyebrow playfully.

“They will, but I like to be hands-on about my interests,” Morpheus said pointedly.

They reached the bathrooms and Morpheus stopped just outside.

“You’re not coming in with me?” Hob teased. “I wouldn’t mind you being ‘hands-on’ in there.”

“Believe me when I say that if I go in with you, I will not be helping you put on any clothes,” Morpheus said evenly, a smile playing on his lips.

Hob chuckled and went inside.

He took a good look at the suit for the first time, smiling as he saw the colours.

Monochromatic black and white. He would match with Morpheus.

---

Notes:

This got away from me in so many places and grew to be about three times longer than I initially thought it would be, so I finished it a bit late 😅 I really like how it turned out, though 🖤

Thank you so much to @patchyegg87 for all the help in brainstorming and beta-reading, and for keeping me motivated throughout this whole thing especially when I was doubting whether I could still finish it~

And thank you all for reading! I hope you liked it! ^_^

Feel free to let me know your thoughts in the comments!

---

Part 2 ->

(Dreamling Week Masterpost)

(Masterlist)

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valorant-drabbles · 5 months

Note

Hi! can i request head-cannons with female valorant agent’s in a soulmate au?

Hello, I'm more than happy to deliver some headcanons!

Valorant Female Agents

Soulmate AU

Sage [Colourblind]:

Despite seeing the world through a monochromatic lens, Sage always managed to find the beauty in everything surrounding her. Although she seemed unbothered by the lack of colour in her life, she did find herself yearning for the one to which her soul was bound. Not only do she could see the vast shades of colours that the world had to offer, but so she could be united with her other half. She was a firm believer in soulmates, and knew her’s would be delivered to her one day.

When the day does come, it’s unexpected, and comes in the form of a new agent. But it doesn’t happen immediately. After all, it’s rather rude to randomly try and touch somebody out of the blue, even if it was to find her soulmate. So she always treated the agents around her with the utmost respect for their boundaries. After all, some people were afraid to see colour. Others were scared their soulmate was working within the Protocol, their lives constantly in danger.

And though the risk of death is always part of the job, it never scared Sage. Somehow she just knew her soulmate was careful, and wouldn’t fall before their proper time.

Anyways. The day she sees colour, the first thing she sees is the beautiful colour of her partner’s eyes. She was simply attending to a wound they’d gotten during training; nothing major. Just a gash. For the first time, her ever-still hands slipped and her finger gently grazed the other agent’s arm.

Instinctively, her eyes shot up to meet with the agents, about to apologize profusely- only to be met with… absolutely stunning colours. Everywhere. But the most beautiful colours were those worn by her beloved.

After that, everything felt perfect to Sage. Sure, she could be a tad overprotective of her love, but it was to be expected, being soulmates with the medic of the team.

She would make sure every date was in beautiful locations full of colour. A field of flowers for a picnic, or even an evening watching fireworks. She makes the most of their shared newfound vision, and treasures it. Even if she went colourblind again someday, she wouldn’t be disappointed. She’d seen the colours the world had to offer- and she’d always remember how gorgeous her beloved’s palette always was.

Skye [Hanahaki Disease]:

She never imagined she’d get caught in such a situation. Where she was coughing up flower petals, of which made no sense to her. Sure, she was the ‘nature girl’, but in no way were her powers producing flora from her throat!

In a way, her Hanahaki disease is actually a result of her anxiety over her intense romantic feelings towards her crush. She usually didn’t care much for relationships in such a sense… moreso in a way that she didn’t pursue them. It wasn’t something she needed in order to be happy.

At least that’s what she thought. But then, somebody… truly fascinating joined Valorant’s Protocol. And she was stricken with affection, as corny as it sounded. And at first, she’d resent the feelings. Thinking they were a distraction, or just a weird chemical imbalance making her not think straight.

It would become more apparently over time that it was, in fact, romantic interest. And the interest would grow by the day.

By the first month is when she started coughing up flower petals, colours oddly reminiscent of her crush. And despite consulting with Sage regarding her symptoms, they found no way to stop it. The best she could do is keep it hidden from the other agents as best she could.

But a day would come where she wasn’t careful enough. And she’d cough up petals right in front of the one person she dreaded seeing her in such a state.

Luckily, the agent was familiar with the disease Skye had unknowingly given herself. They helped explain the disease to her, and emphasized that expressing her feelings would help the petals fade… assuming the other person felt the same. If not, well… heartache would also be a good cure. Though not ideal.

That would be the moment Skye would cave. She was sick of flower petals everywhere, and would rather stop the pain. Even if it meant heartbreak. So in the moment, she’d confess her feelings.

Her soulmate would be incredibly surprised… yet relieved, as they pulled out some petals from their back pocket, colours matching those of Skye’s aesthetic.

That day would be the last day either of them coughed up any petals.

Skye did her best to make up for lost time, taking her soulmate out on walks along nice nature trails, camping in the wilderness… and perhaps once the trauma of the flower petals subsided, someplace nice and floral.

Although she wouldn’t spoil her soulmate too much, she’d carve little animals out of wood for them, eventually building a collection that laid on their windowsill within their bedroom.

And of course, fresh flora every day.

Astra [Tattoos]:

She always knew she would find her soulmate; writing in the stars never lie, she’d claim, whenever one of her relationships ended. After all, what is a soulmate but a best friend, who would always be by your side, no matter what? The fact she hadn’t been romantically with anybody who fit that bill simply meant she hadn’t found her soulmate. Simple as that.

And when she found them, she was overjoyed, truly. They both had q similar constellation tattoo on their wrists, and when the two held hands, the tattoos lined up to form a heart. Astra is obsessed with seeing the full heart, so is constantly holding hands with her soulmate as often as possible.

She is a little overbearing at first, honestly. The excitement of this moment makes her a little suffocating within the first two weeks. But one conversation about boundaries later, and she’s much more reigned in. But this doesn’t mean she still won’t spoil her soulmate. Baked goods, flowers, plushies, movies… anything her soulmate wants? They shall have. Immediately. She keeps a list of all the things they enjoy when mentioned in passing. She never wants to forget a potential gift.

And you bet she’d make a huge deal out of any milestone. A small celebration every month they’re together, until the 1 year mark. Birthday party with the rest of the HQ, and a more private and intimate anniversary celebration. Truly, she couldn’t imagine herself any happier.

Fade [Lies]:

Everybody lies. That’s just obvious. But she just wished her lies weren’t constantly being broadcasted to the one person who’d judge her severely for it.

With each lie that left her lips, it would find itself scrawled across her soulmate’s arm, and vice versa. Though her soulmate rarely lied, it seemed, as she hardly found writing on her own arm. And whenever she did, it was hardly anything worth scoffing at. Nor was it anything she’d be able to decipher as a clue to their identity.

Fade becomes much quieter when she is in a position where she has to lie about Valorant. Mentioning military secrets in a lie for some poor bystander to come across, and potentially be put in danger by… how was she expected to get information in these situations? When she might be putting her future lover at risk?

As if Fade didn’t already lack enough sleep, she was often restless, staring at the ceiling. Constantly thinking of ways to reword certain lies to be more cryptic, if only for the sake of her partner. She’d write them down in a journal, and memorize them best she could.

Maybe it ended up being rather useless in the end. After all, her soulmate ended up joining the team after a year of herself joining.

Suffice to say, it was a huge relief. Not only that her soulmate was alive, well, and… loved her? But also that she didn’t have to make stupid half-lies and give herself a headache with careful wording.

Now she could tell Cypher she hated his cooking without risk of her soulmate finding her heartless. Moroccan food was great, she just… had too much pride to praise the bastard.

Thankfully for Fade, she found herself actually sleeping much better than she had in over a decade. Her soulmate’s presence bringing a warmth to her, and a calming energy to her heart and mind.

Although she wasn’t much of a romantic, Fade would make an effort for her partner. Bringing them flowers, listening to music, spending simple time together. She often refers to her partner as her ‘dream catcher’, as she is often without nightmares when sleeping by their side, and has pleasant dreams once in awhile as a result.

Neon [Timer]:

Every timer is different. And that’s what terrified Neon. The count-down on her wrist that decreased each second of the day. The time she’d been watching since it appeared years ago

Some timers run out when two soulmates finally unite. It’s a waiting game, and that’s all.

But for some people, when their timer run out… it’s because their soulmate has passed.

God, Neon’s heart ached every time she thought of the possibility. The chance that her timer was counting down the seconds until her soulmate died… and she hadn’t met them yet, so there was no telling which it’d be.

Day by day, her days usually went by slowly. Since she was always running about, trying to get things done as fast as possible- if not only for her own fun. But some days went by even slower when she happened to look at her timer too long.

Impatient hardly seemed like the appropriate word to describe her. She was desperate. She needed to know if her soulmate was going to be okay. Would she be able to save them? Or would they be doomed to die before she meets them?!..

Or maybe everything will be normal. They meet one day, and the timer stops.

But knowing Neon’s own life, she doubted it would be so simple.

And yet, how overjoyed she was the day she did find her soulmate. Safe and sound, and just as the timer had run out. The numbers fading from her wrist, soon replaced with the date of that day. The day they united. Forever ingrained on her and her partner’s wrists.

With the pressure of a constant timer gone from her life, Neon finally felt like she could take life slow. And oddly enough… she wanted to take it slow, despite her speed and energy. Each moment she had with her soulmate, she cherished. As if there was a chance it wouldn’t last.

She would make the absolute most of her time with them. Neon would set up dates frequently, making sure they were creative and each different from the last. Something memorable.

She’s utterly in love with her partner, and would jump up in a second to fetch them something if they needed it. Without a second thought, nor groan (unless she was just woken up).

For their 3rd Year Anniversary, Neon gifts her partner a scrapbook. Filled with pictures she’d taken of them on dates, on missions, in passing… along with some sweet messages, and reciting fun missions they’d accomplished by each other’s side.

She makes it a tri-annual anniversary gift, so every three years they’d have a large book of memories to look back on.

And it gives her more comfort in knowing she has all the time in the world with her soulmate.

Deadlock [Matching Injuries]:

Since the day she lost her arm, Deadlock was convinced her soulmate would hate her. After all, who would want to spend the rest of their life with the same person who’s the reason you lost your arm? The thought that she’d put her partner through such pain due to a mission gone awry… It was too much to bear. It was at that point she gave up looking for her soulmate, knowing there was no happiness meant for them down that path. The path she’d already destroyed with her recklessness.

And yet… she found them anyways. Though they didn’t have any augmented replacement for their arm, and despite the pain Deadlock thought they’d always be in…

Her soulmate was always smiling. The loss of their arm not a hindrance, nor a common thought on their mind. The only thing that seemed to matter to them was Deadlock… having found her. To be united after so long.

Deadlock was… shocked to say the least. Knowing her soulmate held no resentment towards her for the loss of their arm. But this didn’t mean she was without guilt. After speaking with Killjoy and Chamber, she convinced the two agents to aid her in her newest project; creating an arm suitable for her soulmate. It wouldn’t be fit for combat like her own, unless her soulmate wanted such a thing. After all, having a weapon glued to their body might not be desirable.

It takes Deadlock about two months before she stops apologizing consistently to her soulmate. Two months of counselling with Sage about her guilt, and two months of loving reassurance from her beloved. Though she becomes an unstoppable force when her soulmate is in danger, and is willing to do near anything to protect them. They become her new reason to fight.

In hopes that after the war ends, that perhaps she can live a quiet, safe life with her soulmate.

———————————

Author’s Note

I hit a bit of a rough patch while writing this and struggled to find inspiration to continue- so I’m posting this as it is! If people really want the other half of the female agents, I’ll do it!

#valorant fanfiction #valorant #valorant deadlock #valorant headcanons #valorant astra #Valorant sage #Valorant fade #Valorant Skye #Valorant neon

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hanisdaisys · 1 year

Text

The colours of you- S.JY

Pairing: Sim Jaeyun! X Reader!

Informations: A spin off of Filipino movie " Love is color blind"

Warning: death of character

Summary: When an embarrassing story turns into a sweet melody. You and Jake were just students when it all happened, and that explains why it was destined to end. Years later you face him again to start over again, will it be a good idea? Is this the same old sim jaeyun you remember?

Word count: ~2.7k

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Colours. Everything revolves around colours. The sun is yellow, the grass is green and the sky is blue. From dark red to bright blue, colours consist of our everyday life. But it’s hard to fill in the pages when the outline is the same shade as the pens. Jake swore he tried. But he was colorblind, unable to distinguish between different hues. Even when he tried to fill in the pages with different shades, he would often mistake one colour for another. When he picked up a red pencil and called it green when he didn’t see what everyone else saw. “Hey Jake can you pass me the yellow pen,” his friend asked. Jake didn’t see yellow, he saw different shades of gray.

PRESS ON KEEP READING

The world felt dull to him, almost monochromatic. Gray was the only colour he could see, which made everything look even more depressing. There was still warmth in gray. But it’s saddening. When you open your eyes to a dark room, it looks ten times darker. You can’t see the beauty of colours. But he wasn’t always colour-blind. Both his parents were artists and he loved painting with them. The last Color he had seen was red. When he got so angry at his mom he did notice the truck rushing in their direction. Fortunately, he survived, but his mother didn’t...His karma? Losing sense is colours. His dad had left him early on, and now, he was all alone. He couldn’t tell between the sun and the sky anymore. Everything was just gray. He refused to let anyone know. It was embarrassing enough to be known as an orphan.

When you showed up in his life years ago, you were an embarrassing teen. You moved to a new school, in a foreign country you had never seen. You were just erasing the board as people started laughing. “Look at her pants!”. Great what an amazing day to wear white. Everyone just laughed at you as you locked eyes with Jake. He just stared at your pants and he said “A new shade of red”… What the actual hell? You ran out of the class, tears flowing. He followed shortly behind, offering his jacket to cover the stain. “Hey I’m sorry for what happened back there… I just love painting and that’s the first time I saw this shade of red,” he said rubbing the back of his nape. You looked at him again, noticing his plump lips, blonde hair, and beautiful eyes. He had you captivated. “Oh no worries” you mentioned before walking away.

Well, now you kept seeing him everywhere. Posters of his soccer games, of course, he had to be the main player. Damn him and his sexy face. You’d go to his every match. Staring at him as he ran across the field. And oh, of course, he had to be part of the violin team. Just like a pied piper, charming you with his instruments. But you were just a watcher, you’d never been close to him. Just far admirer. That was until the last year of school. Your school had organized a dance party for couples. Little did you know, Jake was making a painting of you with the prettiest Colors to ask you out. But of course, he hadn’t finished in time. He was late and Jay had already asked you out, you agreed. If you couldn’t get Jake maybe his friend was good enough. The whole night you wished Jake’s hands were holding you instead of Jay's. You didn’t enjoy the night and went home. Crying in the rain, in a bright purple dress.

Jake was stopping by the convenience store when he noticed you crying on the street. Where was Jay? And how dare he let you leave this way. He came up to you and brought you home. The rain wasn’t stopping anytime soon so you invited him into your room. “Sorry, it's messy..” You mentioned, sniffling while picking out some clothes for him. “ These are my brothers.. hopefully they’ll fit,” you said staring into his eyes as you passed him a sweatpants and a white shirt. He nodded while you continued your phrase “I'll go change in the bathroom, you can stay here..” He had already finished changing and you were still in the bathroom. He decided to look around when he spotted a picture of you and your friends back in the US. While grabbing the photo, he accidentally dropped the picture you had beside... It fell to the floor while he looked up the see the huge letters written in red. You walked into the room and screamed. “WHAT HAPPENED OMG” You quickly used your body to cover up the words on the wall... “Jake and Y/N forever together… interesting” he moved you aside as he kept staring at the wall.

“You know I was going to ask you to prom” he stared into your eyes “but that bastard Jay beat me to it” You were shocked. “ I wanted to paint the picture of you in the flower field, but I was missing my carnation pink paint… and by the time I bought it Jay had already asked you.” He told you holding your hands “I like you” you blurted out “Well me too..” he confessed. And that’s when your journey had begun. He’d take you out on picnic dates, showing you the prettiest Colors he had ever seen. He took you to see his mom, of course, he liked painting because of her… their house was full of Colors and painting supplies. You were together for years, an inseparable couple. That was until your family fell into debt, and you had to go back to America to help out your dad with the family business. Lots of tears and sadness were shared. Jake knew he had to put on a smile on his face if it meant he could see you happy. And so he did. You left.

Years later you found yourself back in Korea. You had missed your childhood here, with Jake. Your sister begged you to let go of him and focus on work. After all, he has cut you off and completely ghosted you. Yet his face still showed up when you’d go to sleep. You’d be lying if you said you had gotten over him. But you were ready to start again. To find him. You walked through your old school, looking at the mural he had painted, The trophies he had obtained and the soft gentle music he had created. He was everywhere. You take the bus home, the same one you used to take after school. Arriving at your small cozy house. You stepped into your old room, seeing the red words still engraved into the walls. This didn’t age well. As much as your sister wished you forget his ass, she'd rather see you happy than sad. So she helped you find where he worked.

When you walked into the tattoo shop, you were shocked he didn’t open a painting business. Yet when you saw his tattoos spread across his body, it all added up. The bright Colors engraved into his skin. He looked like art. “Welcome-“ he stopped when his eyes met yours. “Jake…” you said walking up to him. “I need to leave..” he said packing his essentials and leaving the room. You followed shortly behind getting into the taxi with him. The taxi driver was confused on you had randomly entered the taxi. yet he just shrugged it off and started driving to jakes destination. “you can't be here, and I’m going to tattoo a client!” He said. “It’s okay, I won't say a word” he rolled his eyes at you. The ride to the hotel was quiet. You stayed in the room as the client walked in. “Good evening ma'am! My name is Jake and I’ll be tattooing you” he said giving instructions to the woman for her to sit down. While he started working you two were arguing over the fact that he had left you hanging while you waited for him to call back.

“oh come on Jake! you could've left me a message! yet im here following you like a crazy lady on my first night back” you argued. His eyes were glued to the lady's skin, tattooing a beautiful tiger lily. “I'm sorry to interrupt your lover's quarrel but could you fill in the tattoo with some orange?” the lady asked. Jake looked around in his colours…. Putting your anger aside, you noticed he was confused. he couldn't tell them apart. They were all different shades of gray. “Ma'am your butt looks gorgeous without colour! Don't add anything to it” you said looking at her. “Really? okay ill keep it simple” she said going back to her phone. Jake finally let out the breath he didn't know he was holding.

When the client had left the room was quiet. “thank you..” he said. “what?” “I said thank you..” He repeated. You nodded sitting on the bed beside him. “when you left Korea, I stayed to look over my mom... We got into an argument one day-“ he said. “you don't need to continue Jake, take your time. You said rubbing his back “No I need to tell someone. I was driving when she started crying. She said I reminded her of my dad. I got mad, my dad left us. He was a horrible man. We started arguing. I hadn't noticed the truck speeding our way and we got hit… I survived and lost all sense of colours,y/n, my world is black and white... But my mom, she fought, she tried but she didn't make it..” he was smiling but you noticed the tears falling down his face. “Oh, Jake… im so sorry. I couldn't help being mad at you but it all makes sense. You lost both the things you loved in one day… It must've been hard. I'm sorry Jake” You said hugging him. “no y/n it's not your fault at all” You smiled at him while he packed up his bags.

“So where do you live now?” You asked following him. “I live a few minutes from here if you don’t mind coming with me,” he said putting his bag onto his back.

You nodded and followed him through the narrow alley. The wind was blowing softly and you noticed how much he had grown. His height, his hair, his body… he was completely different. When you arrived you noticed the building looked quite expensive. “Jake…” you said. “It’s not much but you know I try my best,” he said saying hello to the bodyguard and swiping his card. When you got into his apartment, it felt cozy. “Sorry if it’s messy!” He said picking up a few cans of beer that were on his coffee table. “Hey, Jake can I know where the bathroom is? I just need to go real quick” you said looking around. “Yeah it’s right down the hallway, second door to your left” You nodded again and walked as the lights opened. Something caught your attention on the walls. Pictures. Pictures of his mom, pictures of his art and mostly pictures of your first date. You slowly passed your hand over it. “It was beautiful wasn’t it” You jumped a little looking back at him. “Yeah, it was nice, Jake.” You said smiling

“Didn’t you need to use the bathroom?” He said clearing his throat “Oh? yeah!” You rushed off entering the small room. What will you tell him???? Without knowing it, you spent a few minutes in their pacing around. Suddenly you heard a small knock “Hey you okay in there?” He asked. “Yeah give me a second I’ll be right out!” You pretended to flush the toilet, washed your hands and exited the room.

“So how were the states,” Jake asked. “It was good, there weren’t many companies interested in what I wanted to give… I came back here because I didn’t want dads business to fail.” You said, playing with your hands. “Hey it’s okay, don’t worry, you know even I wasn’t able to succeed….” Jake mentioned looking down at his legs. “My dads paying for this room here, I just need to work and give him back some money once in a while… even if he left us, he still takes care of me from away… he got a call the other day asking to finish my mom's paintings…. I wanted to decline because I can’t see Colors but they’re offering so much money Y/N and I don’t think I can reject that…” Jake added. You nodded listening to him. “I can help you, you know? You’re the reason my childhood was so good Jake. When I went to America I couldn’t stop thinking about you. You never left my mind, and now I don’t want to make the same mistake. I’ll stay and help you” you told him caressing his hands. He gave you a genuine smile while you talked the night away.

For the next few months, you tried helping Jake regain confidence in his work. You’d bring him outside on trips to make him realize that maybe colours do look different. Even if he could only see gray, he was able to start noticing the difference between colours and complete them. His Sun turned yellow, his sky turned blue and his flowers turned a beautiful array of colours. He was so happy that you had accompanied him throughout this journey, taking him back to the world of colours. He was so great full for you and you were happy to just help him out.

When it came to D-Day, helping him out to complete his mom's work, you stayed by his side the whole time. Letting him know what colours he was using and letting him know if it made sense. He added new meanings to the paintings that not even his mom noticed. He tried to honour every little stroke to his dear mom. Once the painting was completed he was in awe. He couldn’t believe that after years of setting this aside, he was able to finally complete it. You were so proud of him for doing this. When the photographers arrived at the exhibition, everyone praised him for his work. He was able to complete a whole painting without even being able to see colours… While you were admiring the work, Jake came running to you.

“Hey, I have something for you!” He said. He takes your hand and began pulling you outside. “Close your eyes!!” He sounded too excited so you trusted him and closed your eyes. “Open them!” He said. When you opened your eyes you saw the most beautiful thing. There were a bunch of paintings and pictures of you guys together. You began walking down the alley of pictures, admiring each and every photo. “It’s beautiful Jake… I don’t know what to say..” you said. Jake just smiled and followed you while you walked. At the end of the walkway, you started noticing a few rose petals and candles lit. A beautiful picnic was set up for you two. “Jake thank you so much… I’m not sure how to react. This is the most beautiful thing ever” you said tears falling out of your eyes. Jake wiped them as he began talking “Look, my love, thank you so much for being here the past few months. My mom's project, you were the reason I was able to complete it. You were the reason I continued working every day to see progress. Ever since we were kids, you were always my reason why. And even if I left you alone for weeks and months, you still came back to me to treat me the same. I’m not sure what I would’ve done without you. I love you, Y/N… thank you this is all because of you..” he looked at you again “Can I?” He asked as you nodded. His lips touched yours as you smiled.. whispering against each other's lips soft words of love … “I love you more than I loved colours”.

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not-poignant · 2 years

Note

hi! i'm a really big fan of yours and i want to thank you so much for sharing your talent with us. i was also so pleasantly surprised when i found out you did some of the really wonderful art for juliet marillier's books? which is so insane to think about because it's like two worlds colliding! would you ever talk about how that came about?

Hi anon!

So, Juliet Marillier got in touch with me, because she'd seen some of my animal artwork, and asked if I could do a hedgehog based cover for Prickle Moon, an acclaimed and award-winning anthology of really awesome short stories, being published by Ticonderoga (whose owners I know and who are also lovely people, and who I've also been published through re: short stories), the owners of Ticonderoga gave Juliet Marillier control over who she picked for the cover art, which is very rare! She was really polite and lovely, and we organised to meet in person because she only lives about 25 minutes from me.

I went to her house and we hung out and talked about many things, I met her lovely rescue dogs (she tends to rescue small elderly dogs, and gives them so much enrichment and love and care), and I showed her some of my original sketches and thoughts re: colour schemes, she picked what she liked and I got started.

After that, the cover was approved, we did a book signing together at Swancon one year (both of us signing the same anthology, which was amazing for me, because that was my first time signing anything), and then a short time later I joined a writer's group that she was a member of, along with many other published speculative fiction authors. We were all a part of Write Club for many years, but it sadly disbanded at the beginning of 2020. Though we still have a small chat group for the core members.

Juliet Marillier is a lovely person, an amazing writer, and she's also a member of the same spiritual group I am (the Order of Bards, Ovates and Druids - OBOD). You'd never guess from meeting her that she's one of the most acclaimed women fantasy writers of the last few decades, or that she's travelled the world doing book signings etc. She's very humble, wry, funny, caring, and a little shy in social settings. I feel very fortunate and humbled that I got to spend time with her, and every time I see or think of hedgehogs I will forever think of Juliet Marillier. :)

Here's the full cover. It was done entirely in ink, watercolour pencil, and coloured pencil. I gave her the original artwork once it was done.

And here's some of my original sketches that I did, that I showed her at her home (including an illustration of different monochromatic colour palettes, Juliet chose purple/violet):

So yeah!

Tbh long before I wrote fanfiction and did things the way I do them now re: writing, I was actually a professional artist and award-winning author doing quite 'Serious' writing etc. I don't work as a professional artist anymore, but I do still sell some of my art and sometimes share it here. I've done a couple of other book and magazine covers over the years, and an internal illustration for the World Fantasy Award winning She Walks in Shadows anthology edited by the amazing Silvia Moreno-Garcia.

I've had some very cool experiences through my writing and my art, but being in a writer's group with Juliet Marillier and many other very excellent writers is definitely a highlight. :D

#asks and answers #my art #stuff i do as #pia ravenari #juliet marillier #prickle moon #juliet's writing is incredible #her personality matches #i really miss Write Club #but covid and some of the times of the sessions made it really hard #still for a while there #it was a lovely group where we all got a lot done #and chatted in a university cafe afterwards

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cloudninetonine · 2 years

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One down, two to go! So not gonna lie, I went really hard in the meaning and visual storytelling lol. For general vibes, I did keep it somewhat based on the original design I made (Sprite looks so different from that picture now), and the clothing that's of Calatia origin is made to look super different to Hyrule's for a specific reason I'll get into later. I kept his gorgeous hair from the animated series because that is the one good decision made from the original source material. Prime 80s shit right there.

The first outfit is what he'd have worn working on the farm in Calatia. The second is the travelling outfit/tunic given to him by his grandfather. The third outfit is like a mix of guard attire but also dressed as if he were a noble guest.

The outfits that come from Calatia are colourful, loose-fitting, and comfortable. Courage is always dressed in reds and blues as well as greens and Calatia has a love of tassels and practical outfits that look fashionable. I had to admit, I took inspiration from Twilight Princess and Ordon Village for the first outfit. Notice how there's a ton of different colours and values in those outfits too - he's all over the place in his farming outfit because he emotionally was. When he became a traveller, the values and colours look far neater and cleaner because he's more comfortable in himself and his purpose. He's also got a power bracelet because he feels he's got power - also because it's pretty handy to have when just wandering about and fighting shit.

The third royal outfit is one he gains once become the Triforce of Wisdom's guard. Everything about it is a turn-around of his Calatian outfit and not just because he's now in a different country with different culture and fashion - it all hints back to his emotions in a way. Hyrule's clothing from the castle is all form-fitting and extravagant, but the colours are monochromatic and duller than Calatia's and the most natural thing on his outfit - the roses in his hair - are the most saturated thing in his outfit. It's like he's only seen for his heroic duties, and all the orange from his other outfits are hidden behind this facade, even his sash is held back by the two belts he wears. The corset offers a similar reason so I put it in the outfit. Not to mention the cage the castle wants him to keep Sprite in, though he never puts her in unless she's in or causing danger. It sometimes feels more like it's a symbol than anything useful. All of it causes some form of difficulty to his ability to fight - the corset, the tight clothing, the boots - and yet he's expected to be the best warrior in the kingdom.

I like the imagine that Wisdom gave Courage the roses and he fashioned them in a way that is reminiscent of the flowers on Sprite's headpiece. I'm not gonna lie, I did kinda style Calatia's outfits to suit this kind of interpretation because I barely modified the original apart from a few colouration changes and the sleeves. The outfits are very much of the idea that Courage was somewhat pressured into his role (because I know I'd feel really pressured after what happened) and that the incompetency of King Harkinian from the animated series carried over - and also the truth that noble life in castles are ruthless as fuck. Borrowed the idea that some of the royalty would view Courage as a street rat for not coming from at least Castle Town or some other form of nobility from Koridai's lore to help it I guess. Castles want to keep up appearances and all that.

I AM SLACK-JAWED, IN AWE, ABSOLUTELY FROTHING RUSS THIS IS BEAUTIFUL!!! THE DETAIL YOU'VE PUT INTO THE OUTFITS TOO IS JUST SO AMAZING!!

Literally all these outfits are amazing, I cannot pick a favourite I just love them too much I seriously cannot wait for Kori's or Sprite's designs I know they're gonna be fantastic!

#cloud answers

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weclassybouquetfun · 2 years

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The End is the Beginning is the End. We put the Golden Globes back in the doghouse and look forward to the last batch of awards shows to close out the film awards season. The SAG awards nominations were announced today, the BAFTAs will be announced on Jan. 19th and the Oscars on Jan. 24th so there will be more fashion to look forward to. I hope those red carpet looks will be more impressive than the Golden Globes.

Donald Glover in Saint Laurent *Best dressed man of the night. No competition. Suave, sexy, love the moustache. The entire look is gold.

Diego Calva in Gucci *Second favourite male look of the night. I adore it! It has a retro vibe which is fitting as he's the star of BABYLON. Love the cut and colour. He looks amazing.

Laverne Cox in John Galliano *I was saying during last year's award season how former awards staples Marchesa (Georgina Chapman, former wife of Harvey Weinstein) and John Galliano will never seemingly be embraced again, and while it is not a new design as Galliano is still in Designer Jail, Cox reached back in the vault for this vintage Galliano gown and it's the best she's ever looked. She looks sensational.

Lily James in Versace *One thing Lily James is going to do besides have an affair with her costar, is look great on the red carpet.

Angela Bassett in Pamella Roland. *Love this quasi nod to Old Hollywood look. Very glam.

Barry Keoghan in Louis Vuitton *I'm torn about the neckerchief/bow tie gone wrong, so it must mean in my heart of hearts that I like it. The look gives me Guy-Running-From-the-Garda-Runs-Into-Costume-Shop-And-Puts-On-Bullfighter-Costume.

Rihanna in Schiaparelli Couture.

*Bad Girl Ri-Ri didn't walk the red carpet and could, seemingly, be seen exiting the event early after congratulating her competition, MM Keeravani whose "Naatu, Naatu" won.

MORE FASHION

Billy Porter in Christian Siriano

Ayo Edebiri in Rosie Assoulin *Now she knows those gloves are a mistake. It's like when Andre Leon Talley (RIP) dressed Jennifer Hudson the year she won her Oscar and gave her a great dress with pockets (yes) but put her in a bolero (no).

Letitia Wright in Prada

Ana de Armas in Louis Vuitton

Newly married Anya Taylor Joy in Dior

Jenna Ortega in Gucci *That's too much dress. In consideration of her height everything should have been shorter - hem, sleeves. It would have been even better to modify it to a sleeveless dress. Her hair colour looks great with the dress, though.

Jeremy Pope

Jessica Chastain in Oscar de la Renta *This dress is like the film THE GOOD NURSE. Good, but basic.

Eddie Redmayne in Valentino *He's looking as if he just caught his reflection and wondered WTF his stylist was on to put that on him. The flower should be burned and it would have been nice if he had on black shoes to not look so monochromatic and the pants are too long. The only brown clothes he needs to be in is Thom Browne.

Niecy Nash in Dolce & Gabbana *People should just embrace capes and go. This puffy floor length wrap nonsense is for the birds. The plum-colour dress is gorgeous and the wrap just distracts.

Margot Robbie in Chanel *Please get this woman a better stylist. Someone adventurous; someone to take her out her comfort zone. Nice dress, but underwhelming.

Sheryl Lee Ralph in Aliette. *My favourite female look of the night. Colourful, hair fits the look.

Britt Lower in Bach Mai

Bailey Bass (AVATAR: THE WAY OF WATER and the fantastic INTERVIEW WITH THE VAMPIRE (AMC+) in Dior *It's a great dress for sure - though I wish it was either an empire waist or it was a two-piece with the top being a corset, but barring that, I wish she would have gone with how her hair is in IWTV. If she wore her naturally curly hair it would look so great framing her face.

Viola Davis in Jason Wu

Michelle Yeoh in Armani Prive *Exquisite.

Salma Hayek in Gucci *Of all the Gucci designs at her disposal she went with this??? I have seen her in some insanely incredible Gucci designs over the years so the fact that she wore something so relatively matronly offends me.

Michelle Williams in Gucci *Oh jayzus. What a disaster. It's THE SON of dresses.

Pregnant Claire Danes in Giambattista Valli *I'm guessing she left the house forgetting that she was wrapped up in her quilt.

Andrew Garfield in Zegna *Love the colour. I'm disappointed because I mistook the overly long psudeo-tie for a sash and thought there was some creative flair to the look. No such luck.

Tyler James Williams in Amiri *He gets 10 points for not being boring. Do I love that he looks like he just come out of the rain (and considering it's been storming here for two days, maybe he did), but I love the wide legs trousers and jacket.

Emma D'Arcy in Acne Studios

Michaela Jae Rodriguez in Balmain

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iphisesque · 1 year

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omg i love your "jjk as a horror movie" edit! how did you make it? it looks amazing 😍

thank you dear! it was something of a repetitive process, but the hardest part was really choosing the pictures: i made a list of jjk iconography i wanted to incorporate and other imagery that i thought would look cool, then went hunting for the pictures themselves, which proved to be a challenge. the fetuses in particular were a struggle, as most props looked way too fake and most medical pictures were understandably not aesthetic (i eventually resorted to the fetuses in the intro of american horror story); the torii gate was a cool abandoned urbex picture i had seen on reddit, the wolf was a stock photo of a dog, the prison realm was a fanmade prop, the crow was a screenshot from the live action jjk volume 23 trailer, and after trying several hand pictures including gojo's domain expansion gesture i decided to resort to a painting i found of a hand on a shoulder. in this stage i had to give up on some ideas too, such as a sukuna finger (no good pictures of severed mummified fingers, smh) or a sokushinbutsu, or some others that would be colour-reliant like blood or kenjaku's scars, since i had decided to make it black and white and not have to deal with the colouring.

i then proceeded to make all the images look coherent and cohesive: i set all my canvases to a uniform 4:3 size and resized the pictures accordingly (sometimes fiddling with the backgrounds to expand them), i adjusted the lights and shadows, the exposure the levels and the contrast and then turned them monochromatic, and afterwards i added the effects on top like grain and interference and scanlines and bloom and glamour (i use pixlr to edit). i then created a transparent layer with the top and bottom bars, sized them so the image left visible would be an appropriate 16:9, and pasted it to every picture; i played with the idea of adding subtitles like i did in my nge edit, but eventually dismissed it.

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house-of-slayterr · 2 years

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Doe Eyes That Don’t Blink:

@myers-meadow-selfship @vincent-sinclair-deserved-better

Blinky’s POV:

Things have been pretty boring around here lately. People just weren’t getting lost in Texas like they used to. I kicked my feet on the stool I sat upon. Dad had trusted me to watch the gas station today. I never called him that to his face, but he was the closet thing I ever had to one. One more hour and I could head home for the night.

I was more than happy to get out of this boring outfit. I had to look presentable when I was out in public. Unassuming and inviting, that was my role to play. And I didn’t mind it, it was fun sometimes. I made a b-line for my bedroom and quickly shut the door, stripping out of my work attire. I slipped into some mismatched stripy tights, and a black skirt that say a few inches above my knees. I threw on my favourite turtleneck jumper, and took my hair out of its clip. Letting my curls fall wildly above my shoulders.

I was feeling very monochromatic today, the bright colours being too much at the moment. I grabbed my makeup bag off the counter and went to walk over to Baby’s room to see if she was home yet. She loved helping me with my makeup. And I like it cause she always called me cute after and booped my nose. Baby loved cute things. She got all giddy and jumpy whenever she saw them. But I was stopped in my tracks when I noticed Otis’ bedroom door open.

I knew I shouldn’t go inside, but curiosity got the better of me. He never left his door open, not even when he was in his room. I pushed the door open a little and gasped at the sight before me. There was a woman strapped tightly to a chair with a gag in her mouth. She seemed to be sleeping, but even a sleep she was beautiful. Prettier than anyone who’d come by here in a long time. I see why Otis kept her hiding all to himself.

I skipped over to her, inspecting her closer. She didn’t looked to banged up, so it didn’t look like he planned to kill this one. Otis wasn’t very gentle with his toys, but I suppose none of us were. Mama didn’t raise us that way. I’d only been here a little over a year, yet her teachings rubbed off on me. I gentle moved a lock of hair out of her face, and moved my hands down to pull the gag from her mouth. She looked much more relaxed without that stupid thing in.

I sat down on her lap and gently shook her shoulder to wake her. She would be much more fun if she was awake. I gave her a second to accumulate to her surroundings. I remember how confused I was when I first woke up in this place. But it’s as evident she’d already been tired out. I could see the signs of struggle around her wrists, which meant Otis had been keeping her a secret for some time now. Damn Bastard, hogging her all to himself. Rude.

Her eyes widened when she looked at me, and I sent her a wicked smile. Damn those eyes, they were so much prettier when she was awake, when they were open. I found myself getting lost in them, and I should feel her heart beat rise as he pulse point was on my shoulder. I took a strand of her hair and twirled it in my fingers. She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out. I giggled softly.

“You’re pretty, you know that Doe Eyes?” I asked.

Her face flushed.

“What did you just call me?” She asked softly.

Fear was apparent in her voice and it was adorable. That someone like her could be sacred of little old me. I mean I was like half her size. Otis was always telling me I was too short for my own good. Couldn’t reach anything without his help. But secretly he liked getting my cereal box off the top shelf for me. And I would never tell him I kept climbing onto the counter to put it there. He likes to feel useful.

“Doe Eyes, that’s you’re name now silly.”

She looked confused.

“My names Manon…” she mumbled.

Oh, how pretty. It wasn’t a name I’d ever heard before and I loved it. It suited her, but so did Doe Eyes. I let out a frustrated huff.

“Bu-but you can call me Doe Eyes if you want.” She quickly responded.

“Yay!” I said.

“Umm, why are you sitting on me?” She asked.

Sure does ask a lot of questions. I like her, she seems smart. I grinned at her.

“I couldn’t resist, you’re legs looked so soft, perfect for sitting on. And I was right, you’re perfect for cuddling.” I smiled.

Her cheeks got even more flushed if that was possible.

“Who are you?”

“Well you can call me Blinky, everyone around here does.” I said proudly.

“Do you live here.”

I nodded enthusiastically.

“I- I didn’t know they had kids here.” She seemed sad about that.

“Well I’m not really a kid, not anymore I guess. I’m 18, I just look small.”

“Oh.” Was all she said.

A frown didn’t look good on here, not all all. But I knew just how to fix it. I hopped up off her lap and ran to the bed to grab my makeup bag. She watched me carefully, probably thinking I had something in this bag to hurt her. Poor thing.

“What are you doing?” She asked.

“I’m gonna make you look pretty. You’re started to get dark circles and it’s beneath you. Jesus, how long has he been keeping you in here?” I shook my head.

Maybe I shouldn’t have woken her, she really looked like she needed the sleep. If she was my pet I would treat her so much better than my brother was treating her now. I’d have to talk to him about that. I sat back down on her lap, going to work on her makeup. I was thinking something bold, yet simple. Maybe 60’s glam would look good. The blue eye shadow would certainly make her eyes pop. She let me work in silence, but it was comfortable. Maybe I’d answered all the questions she had.

I’d barely finished one eye before she shifted uncomfortable. I frowned.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to move.”

“No, no, you’re fine pretty girl. This old chair can’t be too comfortable for you yeah? Wait right here.”

It was a silly thing to say, she was literally tied to chair, she couldn’t go anywhere. I went back to my room and grabbed the switch blade Tony had gotten me for my birthday. It was a rose gold tinted blade with a pretty purple handle. And it was my favourite. I also grabbed my face paint pallet. I skipped back to the room, Otis wouldn’t be home for at least another half hour. Mama sent him to the store to get food for us.

Her eyes were trained on me from the moment I came back into the room. I approached her, flipping my blade and she flinched, closing her eyes.

“I’m not gonna hurt ya.” I said.

She slowly peeled her eyes back open and watched as I cut the rope. Before she could try anything though, I pushed a hand against her chest keeping her put.

“You try to run or hurt me, and I will though.” I warned.

She swallowed thickly and nodded. I smiled, pulling her up from the chair and letting her stretch a little.

“Good.”

I led her over to the softer bed, and sat her down.

“Now sit still.” I giggled.

After about twenty minutes I grew bored of the plainness of the look. I reached for my face paint pallet and tapped the brush against my chin. She seemed so sad to be here, and an idea hit me. I gently held her face in my hands, turning her back toward me and sticking my tongue out in concentration. I kicked my feet as I painted a little tear drop under her eye.

I heard foot steps approach and looked up to see Otis standing in the door way. I smiled wildly at him.

“Otis, Look!”

I hopped down off the bed and gestured to her in a ‘taa daa’ fashion. Smilingly fondly as Otis moved around to admire my handwork. Otis raised a brow at me.

“I like her, she has pretty doe eyes, perhaps we can keep ‘er a little longer?” I batted my eyelashes at him.

He glared down at me, mumbling nasty things under his breath. I didn’t break eye contact however and he finally shrugged, just leaving his room. Maybe I overstepped. She was his after all. But I shrugged it off, turning back to her.

“That wasn’t a no.” I smiled.

“He seems upset.”

I laughed, throwing my head back.

“That’s just his face little peach, don’t worry. He likes ya, else you’d already be mine.” I said simply.

She looked confused at that. But it was the truth, Otis always gave me his dead things to play with. Baby too, they were nice to me like that.

“You seem too happy for a place like this.” She said.

I turned back away from the window to look at her.

“You’ll get used to it.” I shrugged.

I watched her fidget with the chafing and rope burn at her wrists and quickly crossed the room to stop her.

“Don’t, you’ll just make it worse.”

I leaned down and gave a gentle kiss on both her wrist.

“Better?” I smiled up at her.

She smiled softly back at me, and nodded.

“Thanks kid. For being nice to me.”

“Is there any other way to be?” I asked.

She shook her head, her hair falling in her face again.

“I guess not.”

She let out a squeak when I pulled her off the bed. Her legs shaking slightly from the lack of use.

“Come on, I didn’t get you all dolled up for myself. Baby is gonna love this.”

I dragged her down the hall, watching her stumble as she tried to keep up with me. My legs might be short, but I was fast. I dragged her into Baby’s room. Baby was tearing through her room like a tornado.

“What ya looking for?” I asked.

“My damn CD!” She spit, not looking at me.

“Your AC/DC one? You left it by the muffins in the cupboard earlier. I didn’t move it in case you remembered it was there and couldn’t find it again.”

She finally turned to look our way, and froze.

“Shit Blinky, nice work.” She complemented.

I did a fake over dramatic bow. My eyes drifted to the water bottle on her dresser and her eyes followed. She walked over, tossing it to me. I cracked it open and handed it to Miss Manon.

“Your lips were so dry I had to add three layers of gloss.” I said simply. “You watched me open it, it ain’t poisoned.”

She greedily chugged the water down, and I pat her back.

“Careful now, don’t want you to choke. Then we couldn’t have any fun.”

She sheepishly handed me the empty bottle and I tossed it in the trash in the corner.

“Otis let you out?” Baby asked her.

She stumbled over her words, still trying to figure out the right thing to say. The right way to respond to essentially being kidnapped. Which I understood, I was in her shoes once.

“Your gonna like it here, promise.”

I said as I flopped down on baby’s bed. Baby chuckled at my antics.

“Kids right ya know. You still have yer head don’t ya?”

I laughed at the look on her face, flailing wildly on the bed as I cackled. She looked like a deer in the headlights. She needed to learn to relax a little. Which gave me an idea, I crawled over to Baby’s bedside drawer and started digging around.

“Hey! Get yer filthy hands out of there!”

She ran over to try to stop me.

“Christ baby, I don’t care that you got your vibrator in here. I’m just looking for your good stuff.” I said.

She rolled her eyes, reaching to the back of the drawer and pulling out a blunt. She handed it over to me and slammed the door shut. I reached down my shirt and pulled an old lighter out of my sports bra, lighting the smoke. I took a long hit of it and giggled passing it over to Baby. Doe Eyes stood awkwardly in the centre of the room watching us. Baby took a hit before extending it to her.

“Oh, I don’t smoke.” She said.

Baby laughed something fierce.

“I wasn’t asking cupcake.”

She pat the bed next to us. Manon was quick to cross the room and sit. So obedient this one.

“It will make you feel better.”

I looked up at her from my spot on the bed.

“Cross my heart, hope to die, stick a cupcake in my eye.”

I held my hand up in a ‘scouts honour’ kind of way. She shakily took the blunt from Baby and took a hit, coughing after. I giggled once more, and Baby followed. It was cute.

“Yeah, first time stings a little.” Baby explained. “Just relax, you’re in good hands here. Looks like Blinky’s taken a liking to ya. They ain’t gonna let anyone hurt ya.”

I watched with glee as she took another hit, smother this time, and relaxed a little.

“That’s the spirit Doe Eyes. Welcome to the family.” I beamed.

It be nice to have another girl around here, Mama wasn’t much for fun. Loved her to death though. And if Otis tried to hurt Doe Eyes, he’d have to answer to me.

An: I wanted to play on what Meadow wrote and write Blinky’s pov of them meeting. Add a bit more atmosphere to the vibe. I hope you like it 🥰 it’s a little short but I’m tired 😭 I gotta sleep finally.

#doe eyes driftwood #doe eyes #firefly au #mama firefly #baby firefly #firefly family #otis driftwood #house of 1000 corpses au #house of 1000 corpses #self insert #blinky #Blinky firefly

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unit3-fmp · 8 months

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Queen Charlotte

My Favourite Costumes...

This costume worn by the older Queen Charlotte featuring this incredible lilac colour and pearl bodice is such a beautiful and detailed design that really caught my eye due to that amazing and detailed stomacher and petticoat. The beading, embroidery and appliqué used to create that extravagant design forms such an imaginative and detailed piece especially in comparison to the costuming of the older Lady Danbury and now Lady Violet Bridgerton. Furthermore, complimenting such a detailed base the lilac outer part in which is a much more simpler design featuring a solid colour however still have this texture and detailing with the inclusion of large frills down the front and mesh sleeves adds another layer creating this depth and enhanced silhouette to the design.

This design unlike many others features this peplum like jacket over the top, cinched at the waist and enhanced by these puff frills on the sleeves and large collar. As said by Princess Augusta European gowns feature a lot of "the fuss and the frills" in comparison to English gowns which are much simpler stating the gown she is wearing above is too busy for her taste however I really love the over all look of this design and how all the aspects fit together so nicely and ultimately draw your eyes to that beautiful bodice embellished with sapphires. Furthermore, I think the slightly simpler skirt contrasts so perfectly with the detailed top and the little detail of the belt matching the skirt just shows the amount of thought and care that went into the making of all the garments for the show.

The Gown shown above is much more simpler than the others we've seen due to its monochromatic colour scheme and exclusion of a stomacher however I love this jacket-like look the structured bodice creates with the v shaped bottom and decorated hem down the centre creating a very sophisticated yet playful element on the gown. In addition, layered, frilled sleeves further add this texture attached to the garment with the same trimming as seen around the neck really tying the design together further emphasised by the slightly textured main fabric adding this bit of detail and subtle flair.

This design consisting of a blue and pink colour palette and an array of floral appliqués covering the stomacher. Frills are placed around the front hems of the gown creating this elegant and unique design in which I really like. In addition to this as shown above, a gorgeous matching cloak is paired with the exquisite gown, made from a base of pink, the same as the dress and lined with the blue all pulled together by the floral embellishments at the top latching together to hold the cloak in place really tying the entire garment together further adding to the cohesive and quite magical element. I love this entire design, from the 3D floral appliqué to the simplistic petticoat as it forms this really eye catching and intricate design further featuring a slight sparkle in the bodice adding to its incredible number of little details fully bringing this design together.

This design unlike many others features a tiered train creating this more textured and layered look enhanced by the two decorate swirls at the front of the gown attaching to hem and neckline forming this delicate flow throughout the dress. In addition to this we see from the clip above the incredible movement and delicate flow of the tiered sleeves adding so much character and shape to the garment further enhancing this refinement and elegance of the period. I really like the new silhouette the tiered fabric creates and how the added fabric in the sleeves pairs with this texture so nicely. Furthermore, the addition of those simplistic pink frills at the neckline matching with that of the sleeves adds this simple yet intricate little detail adding to the depth of this garment and all from the period.

Although this is not one singular dress, this style consisting of a rounded square neck featuring a bow and triangular cloak like style line revealing a matching stomacher and petticoat. I really like the silhouette and look this creates adapting to many of the other bodice structures we see. The addition of frills and the bow really enhance this design, showing a more modernised element along with a younger feel as is seen by one of our younger characters young Violet Ledger.

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theroyalsims · 2 years

Photo

ANYA AND INGRID MAKE JOINT OUTING TO BRINDLETON ORTHOPAEDIC HOSPITAL

This is giving us some major flashbacks! Today, Their Royal Highnesses The Crown Princess and Princess Ingrid paid a visit to the Brindleton Orthopaedic Hospital to hand over brand new wheelchairs, courtesy of Princess Ingrid’s initiative, “The Wheelchair Project.”

The Princess first launched the project back in her teens, when she raised enough funds to purchase and donate wheelchairs for patients who are unable to afford their own. During its first year, 500 wheelchairs were donated to five hospitals.

(Above: Anya and Ingrid were welcomed with pretty pink posies, and were given a tour around the hospital.)

The Wheelchair Project has since developed into a full-on program, and just last year, it gave away over 15,000 free wheelchairs not only in Brindleton, but also in some of the most impoverished areas abroad.

Princess Ingrid is credited as the mastermind and heart of the program, while The Crown Princess offers her support by way of her own charity, The Crown Princess’ Fund. The two have worked seamlessly together through the years, and today’s outing is more proof of the fantastic duo’s solid teamwork.

(Above: Ingrid chats with Dr. Herb Bellowes, head of the Paediatric Orthopaedics department.)

At the hospital, TRH were met with Hospital Chief Dr. Aniyah Edouare, as well as Drs. Catherine Nickes and Herb Bellowes. The Crown Princess and Princess Ingrid were shown around the hospital, which prides itself as one of the top-ranked orthopaedic and physical therapy centres in the world.

Their Royal Highnesses looked beautiful in their respective ensembles, with both donning sleeveless outfits. The Crown Princess went with a sleek and polished monochromatic look for the visit, wearing a grey, belted vest and suit combo. HRH amped up her ensemble with a pair of black sky-high heels, and a matching black clutch.

(Above: Royal Sisters Stun - Anya and Ingrid looked great in their outfits!)

Princess Ingrid, meanwhile, didn’t shy away from colour, unlike her big sister. HRH wore a fully-embroidered blue dress for the visit, which she accessorised with nude heels and a small nude clutch.

The joint royal hospital visit is Princess Ingrid’s first outing since it was revealed last week that Caspian Ruiz, HRH’s now ex-boyfriend, cheated on her and impregnated HRH’s former roommate, Abigail Nochtrunne.

The Princess has remained tight-lipped on the matter, but all traces of Ruiz and Nochtrunne have been removed from HRH’s social media account. Sources close to the Princess, however, reveal that she’s more upset that she lets on:

“She’s heartbroken, devastated, and horrified by this entire affair. I think she’s mourning the loss of her friendship with Abigail more than her relationship with Caspian. She loved and treated Abigail like a sister. She knows her parents and Abigail’s even been to the palace for dinner a handful of times. Ingrid can’t fathom how she could betray her like that.

And then of course, there’s Caspian. She’s just so disappointed by the fact that he wasn’t even man enough to confront her about it and deal with the issue like adults. She can’t believe she was too dumb to see that her best friend and boyfriend were both lying to her and making a fool out of her.

But Ingrid is just hoping that all the noise surrounding the two cheaters just fade into the background. Instead, she’s focusing on what’s important now: her work, her causes, her charities. For her, there’s nothing to forgive because Abigail and Caspian no longer exist for her. Ingrid is incredibly sweet and is probably the kindest person out there, but if you cross her, if you betray her, there’s no going back, there are no second chances. For her, trust is sacred, and once lost, it cannot be regained. Once bitten, twice shy.”

(Above: Scowl for the Cameras! - Abigail scowls at the paparazzi as she head out to her car after a shopping spree at a high-end shop.)

While Caspian has yet to resurface following his engagement was announced (sources say he has left the country for a ‘break,’ weeks before the announcement was published), Abigail was photographed out shopping yesterday. Flaunting her bourgeoning baby bump and her three-stone ring, Princess Ingrid’s ex-roommate and best friend scowled at the paparazzi. Ever since the engagement was made public and considering her ties with Princess Ingrid, Abigail (and Caspian, really) has received a ton of negative press and attention, especially on social media. In fact, her family, the Nochturnnes, has issued a formal notice, threatening people with legal action should they continue to “harass and cause stress to an innocent, pregnant woman.”

(Above: Abigail flaunted her baby bump in a green dress. She also showed off her new bling - her three-stone engagement ring.)

Look, while we agree that one should not in any way harass someone else, let alone a pregnant woman, we can’t help but raise our eyebrows over the “innocent” part? Sure, Caspian is largely to blame for this whole ordeal because he couldn’t stay loyal and keep his little ding-dong in his pants, but one has to realise that it takes two to tango: Abigail is *just* as guilty. But hey, that’s just our two cents!

#ts4 #theroyalsims #ts4 story #ts4 legacy #simblr #ts4 royals #ts4 royalty #ts4 royal family #ts4 royal story #ts4 royal legacy #ingrid #anya #mystory

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harrysmimi · 2 years

Text

Periwinkle Chp 3

Monochrome

More of my work | series Master list

Harry Just did what YN suggested him to. He spent his day all by himself. Went to get a coffee very early in the morning after a long run. He read the entire book his sister got for him when she visited. He baked amazing Brownies and saved some for YN as a thank you for such an amazing idea. Ordered take out, did a face mask and gave himself a nice manicure. Went to get his tattoo done.

For the first time he didn't had to make any compromise. He ordered what he truly wanted to eat which he hardly ever got to when he's out with his friends, or when he used to take his ex-girlfriend out on dates. She had many allergies so he had to make sure not to order something which have something she is allergic to knowing she'd definitely want to share with him. He felt no shame in embracing himself with carrying out a ritual of skin care routine, and painting his nails. In fact it was one of YN's suggestions.

His day was made even better when YN had texted him suggesting that they should do something tomorrow. He wanted to see her today, he's had enough time to himself he thought and lured her into considering a little picnic to which she agreed. Surprisingly. She was just excited to show off her new hair colour and hair do.

He made sure to put the container of brownies he saved for her in his tote before heading out. He had reached before her (about ten minutes before) and saved a spot at the park near a tree under a shade. He saw YN running her way towards him with a box from some bakery, her usual carry on backpack jumping up and down with each of her rushed steps. She was spot on, on time.

How is she so punctual?

She looked amazing with her a Slightly darker shade of Usual Periwinkle hair like she said, a classic Periwinkle sun dress on her gracefully falling over all the curves of her form. White Vans with ankle length Periwinkle lacy socks.

He was in love with her monochromatic look she have going on.

Pair of black priscription glasses was just a break from all Periwinkle look. Her full front fringes made her look like a new person. Harry couldn't help but stare at her in awe, like a love sick puppy as she jogged her way to him. The hem of her dress ended just above her knees, flowing with her moments. She is a lot shorter when she's not wearing her usual healed boots.

Harry crashed back down on the earth when she finally plopped down next to him on the picnic rug.

"Yo dude, how was your day?" She asked, panting from running a long way, "you couldn't find a place at the far corner of the park?"

"I'm sorry, it's all busy by that side," he pointed to where she came from, "and my day was amazing."

"Are you like going through your goth phase or something?" She pointed out his all black look. Plus his black manicure. Plus she was confused seeing how he's not boiling up wearing all black - black button down, black skinny jeans, brown beat up Chelsea boots - in middle of summer.

"No," he laughed, "but you seem to be in your flower fairy phase."

She gasped, "is it that obvious? It means it's working then." She flipped her hair all sassy. "Anyway, I've got some amazing cheesecakes and some amazing fruity drinks Sandy's husband came by today and brought his new recipes for me to try out and give my honest review thought I'd share with you!"

"Calm down mate, how many cups of coffee did you had today?" He chuckled hearing her rant in one single breath, "and I made brownies today, saved some for you!"

"Aw!" She cooed. "And I drink tea darling."

"Let's eat these before they like melt or something," she set the box down it had four different samples of cheesecakes.

They sat there under the tree chatting, Harry talked about his last semester, that he was going to be graduating early, and the book he read today and how amazing his sister is for recommending the book to him as it was a great experience to reas it. She really preferred to listen him talk about himself than talk about her own traumatic childhood. Usually because people get defensive over when she jokes about it when in fact that's her way of not thinking much about it and just live her life.

"How did your mum reacted to your tattoo?" She asked.

"She said it looks amazing," he smiled. "You should definitely read that book, it's amazing."

"I don't like to read," she shook her head, "I'll see if I can find the audio book version of it. Your sister seems like a cool person."

"She is amazing!" He bragged, "don't you have any siblings?"

"I do, I've got four half younger siblings. They're set of twins, brothers are three and sisters are one and half." She explained.

"Aw they must be handful then."

"I don't know, I don't talk to my mother now so I don't get to see them. But I can imagine them making constant ruckus." She shrugged.

"You miss her?" He asked, "I mean your mum?"

"No, not at all." She scoffed, "we like never had a good relationship."

"You never talk about yourself, it's always me ranting about shit," late but at least he realised.

"Meh, I've got nothing interesting to share. I'm like the most boring person I know." She smiled sheepishly.

He looked extra adorable with the confused look in his eyes. His skin looked extra taken care of today, thanks to his at home spa session. His eyes have taken over more of a bluer hue under sunlight. He looked well rested and comfy. He was now taking pictures of the sunset. The lips balm which he just reapplied looked like a gloss over his plush lips. It was a bad idea to even think of wanting to kiss him again, especially when she's very sober.

"Have I got something on m'face?" He asked noticing her staring at him with almost a gaze of kitten.

"Nothing," she shook her head looking away from him immediately. Harry was quick to notice the flush on her face.

"Why is that dog running towards us?" She asked, almost terrified. Harry looked behind him to see an adorable German Shepherd puppy running towards them. "Oh fuck no!" She exclaimed getting up immediately ready to run.

"What's wrong it's adorable," Harry looked back and forth between the girl and the puppy.

"It's everything but adorable, ahh!" She squealed taking quick steps back as the puppy kept approaching her. "Just fucking hold it!"

"It's not going to do anything," Harry sighed getting up to rush after the girl being chased by a puppy.

"Chase stop!" A high pitched voice called after the dog. It was quite a view but he noticed how tensed YN's body language was.

"Who's dog is that?" She asked.

"YN I need you to stop running," he was quick to get a hold on the puppy. "Oh hello!" He cooed petting the dog.

"Thank you for catching him," the little girl said, she looked to be about seven years old dressed in a very similar dress to YN.

"Your welcome," he smiled.

"Can you please help me put this on?" She handed him a pink leash, he helped her to put it on, "his name is Chase. He's our new puppy, daddy surprised me on my birthday a week ago, it's his first time out as his doctor said he couldn't go out just yet but we got bring him out today, he's adorable, isn't he?" She ranted.

"He is very adorable," Harry smiled, "here."

She took the leash in her hand, "thank you."

"I'm so sorry about that," it a man who looked to be the little girl's dad.

"It's, it's okay!" YN sighed taking in heavy breaths. He looked a bit taken back to see YN but he left immediately. Harry bursted out laughing, he found her adorable in the moment.

"It's not funny," she huffed stomping her way back to where their stuff was.

"It was funny how you squealed and found that adorable little thing scary," he chuckled following her back to their spot. She glared at him. "Ahh!" he squealed himself running when she started chasing him.

"Stop mocking me!" She threatened.

"You look that that puppy," he commented, jogging as she sprinted after him. But she gave up, sighing she walked back. "Hey, I'm sorry!"

"You're very fucking annoying," She sighed clearly annoyed.

"I didn't know you are that scares of dogs, I'm sorry," he felt bad.

"Oh shit, Sherlock!"

"Come on, I apologise," he huffed in defeat.

"It's okay," she said. She almost lost her balance when he tackled her with a bear hug from behind.

"But you gotta admit Chase was Adorable!"

"Pfft! I don't like dogs!" She rolled her eyes, staying still thinking he'd leave her alone, but in reality she didn't wanted him to leave.

"How can you not?"

"You were not attacked a scary, not vaccinated and hormonal German Shepherd when you were eight years old and had to get ten shots right in your bum after plus four stitches on the wound." She ranted.

"Oh-" what his first reaction, "oh! I didn't know I'm sorry!"

"It's okay now if you leave me I'd like to eat my brownies?" She requested.

"Oh yes, yes sure," he left her, they were both sat back on their picnic spot. "Do you like it? Made it from scratch!" He bragged seeing her take a bite from the brownies he made.

"It's okay, okay," she hummed, "just kidding. It's amazing!" She chuckled seeing his upset face. That was her way of getting back at him for making fun of her being scared of that puppy.

"You meanie!" He pouted.

"Thanks," she smiled.

"It wasn't a compliment."

"It's about perspective," she countered.

"You're weird."

She just chuckled. Harry just sat there admiring the view - wink wink - whilst YN updated her own Instagram stories with little pictures of cheesecakes and Harry's made from scratch brownies, which were absolutely delicious.

There was a turmoil of emotions going back and forth between his heart and brain. Almost a war of it's own. Now his relationship with ex wasn't really going well for the last couple of months before he ended things. Why is he feeling guilty for liking someone else and letting his feelings grow for them? He is definitely very sure over his ex already, he has been even before she became an ex.

Maybe because YN isn't interested in him. He wouldn't want to come out as try hard kinda guy. At least he can try and convey his feelings? That will not ruin their friendship right? Like they literally slept together not even a day ago!

Come on Harry man the fuck up! It was his inner voice screaming at him.

"Can I tell you something?" He asked.

"What is it?" She asked keeping her phone aside.

"I'll take that 'cause if you hit me it will cut open my head!" He took the glass bottle of strawberry milkshake (which also was given by Sandy's husband in exchange of feedback) away from her.

"What?" She laughed.

"I don't know how you will react to what I'm gonna say," he shrugged.

"Right but I will never hit you with a glass bottle of strawberry milkshake. And that too on your head!" She almost died laughing. "But anyway, what is it?"

"I don't know how to really say it," he looked down sheepishly, folding his legs under his thighs and sitting in a meditation position. He caught her staring at him intently which made it worse to actually say what he wants to, he is nervous.

"Hey are you okay?" She asked, sounding very concerned.

"Yeah, yeah, I am totally okay." He was quick to assure her, "I'm gonna say it as I can't find another way to say so. I, I really like you."

YN knew there was more to what he had to say. She had all the time in thi world, for him, so she just let him finish. He talks real slow and she already have ten questions in her mind.

"I, I have actually for a little while. It was just a little infatuation at first, but ummm, it grew on me day by day." He explained, "I was also sorting out my feelings and emotions. I don't know after night before I just really can't just think of anything. I'm sorry, it's okay if you don't feel the same way. I just want to get this out and regret later not telling you."

"Who told you I don't feel the same way?" She asked, "but before I just want to ask, why did you really breakup with your girlfriend?"

"Because she cheated on me," he answered, "are we really going to talk about this now?" He felt a little upset that he was here confessing his feelings for her and she is asking about his ex. His feelings matter, but so does hers so he didn't felt the need to react to it just yet. At least not before hearing why she asked that.

"Yes, you were with her for a year Harry, it's not easy to move on. I know everyone is different, I am not saying you can't move on this quickly. I just don't want to - I don't know how to say it. I just don't want more things on my plate now, I have enough." She explained, "I am not going to deny now that we are talking about this. I've liked you for a long time, I didn't know you were dating someone. Just you know? I told you already!"

Is it bad that she is putting herself first? She never know what is going to happen in future, they both would obviously want more if this conversation went the other way. Why is she feeling bad? She wouldn't want whoever this ex of his is to come running back to him and him dumping her for this person.

She had a fear of losing people close to her and she had been staying away from dating all together just focusing on herself for now. Having her little (not to little) one sided crush on him was just enough for her.

"And I really don't know where you wanna go from here," she added.

"I don't know either," he shrugged. "Do you wanna grab breakfast tomorrow?"

"I've got a few appointments tomorrow," her voice sounded sad, "but we can go for dinner if you're free."

"Mhmm, that would be good," he agreed. They both got to wrapping up their picnic set up and collecting their trash.

"Yeah?" She smiled, "dress a little fancy you're going to love this place!"

"Where are we going?" He asked.

"I'll keep it a surprise," she said, and proud yet smug smile on her face.

"Sure," he didn't know what else to say.

Harry walked YN to her car, he tried to be smarty pants and dig out where they are going for dinner the next day, but she is smarter than him and she never gave into his little play of words.

"I know what you're doing, Harry quit it," she rolled her eyes throwing her bag into the back seat of her car and shutting the door. He just laughed.

"Hey before you go," his hand went to stop on top of hers on the door of driver seat of her car, "I know this is confusing, for me it is, but I get it where you're coming from and I just need you to trust me, alright?"

"Mhmm!" She nodded.

"Drive home safe, okay," he wasn't asking her, he was telling her.

"Yeah," YN nodded again.

She lost it completely when he leaned in and pressed a longing, soft kiss on her forehead which lingered moments after he pulled away. He smiled at her before he walked over to his own car.

God she felt her soul leave her body!

Just as she got into her car finally being able to gather herself, her phone started ringing.

Harry was able to glance at her as he drove past, he saw her squealing and jumping whilst on a call. She is adorably weird sometimes.

......................................................................

It was 8.30 in the morning when his phone went off with a spam of texts before he got a call. He was still half asleep but the call was from YN.

"Ello?" He said.

"Get your ass out of your bed and meet in thirty by the Starbucks!" She ordered.

"What? Why?" He sighed.

"Come on dude, I need you help it's urgent!" She whined.

"Fine, but which Starbucks?" He asked.

"The one down the street!" She exclaimed.

"Okay, okay!" He was already pushing himself out of his comfy bed.

"By thirty, I mean thirty minutes sharp!" She said before she hung up. He is going to need to hurry the fuck up.

Harry took the quickest and coldest shower, changed, fixed his hair, put on his moisturiser and sunscreen (it is very essential!) before he headed out. He chose to walk as it was just five minutes away for him, also he reckoned YN might be getting her own car. By the time he reached to the Starbucks he saw her already coming out of the store with two cups of coffee.

"Hi," she greeted him with the biggest smile on her face.

"Hey, good morning," he was quick to collect her in a warm hug.

"Good morning," she handed him a cup of coffee. It was a plain black coffee with no sugar, no milk for him. "We're going to go pick someone!" She announced as they both got in her car.

"Who?" He buckled his seat belt.

"Gus, my fur child," she shared.

"You're getting a dog?" He acted surprised.

"Oh fuck no!" She sighed, "he is a baby cat. Five months old from Manchester."

"Oh, I'm from Manchester," Harry grinned.

"I know, he's like the cutest and cuddliest thing ever," she ranted about this new kitten, "I wasn't going to have him for next three days but his breeder informed that he can fly in today. So we're going to go pick him up now!"

"You're taking be along just 'cause you think I might know Gus?" He asked jokingly.

"Basically, yeah," she nodded.

She even showed him pictures of Gus when they stopped at a red light. Harry would agree he's like a little cotton ball with big blue eyes.

"Why are you getting a cat all of sudden?" He asked.

"It's not something impulsive. I was a six month long process and three month long wait." She said, "I did not wanted to get a pet just yet but my therapist adviced me to get one. Like an Emotional support animal. So yeah, I really thought about it."

"You go to therapy?" He asked.

"Yeah, since I was 15," she shrugged, seemed to be very comfortable about it.

Soon they picked up the kitten from the airport. Harry was swooned by the little moving ball of fur. Now he understood why YN gave up her appointments to someone else for the day. He wanted to get him out of the carrier then and there and play with him. But he had to wait until they het to her place.

Harry decided to drive. Gus was very calm and silent all the way back to his new home.

"My sister used to go to therapy too," Harry shared.

"Hope she is doing fine now. It really does help alot," YN smiled.

"She's doing amazing actually," he said proudly. "Do you mind me asking if it is helping you?"

"Of course not. It is helping, a little at a time. I just have an hour and half long sessions twice a week." She shared, "there is a lot to get over you know. But I've finally found a therapist who I click with, it is so fucking annoying to repeat the same shit over and over again to every new therapist!" She groaned making him chuckle.

"You never tell me about me about yourself, you've got an hour," he said taking a look at the GPS.

"Do you really want to hear my sap, tragic and horrid story?" She chuckled, not believing he actually is interested in hearing her story.

"Yes, I do. And I'll decide if it's a sap, tragic and horrid story as you put it." He assured her, his classic smirk plastered over his face.

"You're annoying," she rolled her eyes. He knows that look does things to her by now. "I don't know if you'll believe me but, it's your choice if you wanna or not wanna I really don't mind."

"I was born in California to my excuse of a witch mother. I was around two and half years old by the time when she like took me back to India and put me in an orphanage." She started, "she, she was an addict but have been clean for about seven-ish years. She obviously did not wanted me, nor did she tell anything to my grandma. I don't know how she like kept a whole ass human she pushed out a secret from her own mother. But I was adopted. By adopted parents like put me into this bording school facility thing when I was four. It was like a horrible, horrible place!"

"Turned out they didn't wanted me either 'cause they were finally able to have a kid of their own, they didn't had to pay for me it was a sketchy place. They claimed to be run by the government but it's not the truth. I was there for like ten years. Before like my grandma found out. Because that woman was now clean, sober, was married to this rich Mexican dude she met on fucking tinder and was trying for kids. That how my grandma found out about it."

"She said she was drunk and high ass off, didn't know she was pregnant, doesn't know who my dad is. Even the speculate ones didn't wanted to be involved in anything, not even getting the tests done. My mother— oh I hate to call her that— was just 19, was there to get her law degree. She like put up with me with me for about two years before she shipped me off to India where she could really just easily put me up for adoption. And that was that." She ended her story taking in a long breath.

Harry seemed to be listening to her very carefully. He was so surprised she did not stutter, nor did she get teary eyed whilst talking about it. He knows there is more to the story.

"I'm sorry you had to go through all that," he said, "and I believe you."

"It's not your fault, you don't have to feel sorry about that," she smiled.

"Didn't the bording school try to contact your orphanage?" He asked.

"They never," she shook her head, "they never tried. I doubt they wanted to. And like I was very notorious for trying to escape that hell. It was like a prison basically. We were allowed to walk out on the pavement for just an hour a day. Got to go to bed at twelve, were woken up by five, had to do our own laundry by hand. Clean up the place because, well we lived there. Had to put up with prick guards to always tried to assualt the kids there. Turned out it was like a huge human trafficking thing in disguise and I was like very hard to be sold 'cause like I wiggled through tiny spaces and they couldn't drug us as those would kill the kids sometimes and they'd be in loss."

"This one time I like was so fucking close to escaping when I was like eight, I could fit through the railings of surrounding the building," she chuckled, "a huge german shepherd was released onto me, who was not given any vet care and was very fucking hormonal. Hence why I'm scared those fuckers. I get goose bumps talking about it. That place is shut down though, my grandparents made sure to sue them."

"I don't know what to say," he couldn't believe her.

"You don't have to, it's quite traumatic I know," she shrugged, "I've accepted it and moving past it now. I don't usually like to talk about it though."

"I understand why now, it's okay," he said, "you're very brave to be smiling through telling your story darling. I'm very proud of you."

"Thank you," she looked at bim with a soft gaze. She has never been told that except for her grandma. "I don't like to cry, makes me feel all sorts of weird."

"It isn't, and it shouldn't be."

"I know, but why waste my precious tears on something I can't change?" She shrugged.

"I like the way you think," he smiled.

"Thank you, thank you!" She bowed in courtesy. Gus meowed loudly in the background.

All day till early evening they both spent playing with Gus and getting familiar with him. Harry needed to go see his friends from college before they both went out for dinner.

"Hey, I've got to go." Harry said, "going to see Niall and Louis after a long time. So see you in evening, yeah?"

"Yeah," she nodded and walked him to the door.

"And..." He stopped, "can I kiss you before I go?"

"You want to?" She was a little surprised and tried hide the ten back flips and then eleven front flips her tummy did right then and there.

"Mhmm," he nodded.

"Then you can kiss me." She shrugged. Harry just took half a step closer to her leaning down he planted a soft kiss on the full of her mouth. His touch was so soft and tender it almost made her go weak in her knees.

"Have fun with, Gus." He whispered before another kiss was pressed on her eyebrows before he slipped out the door. She shut the door behind her.

"Ah! Gus, this guy gonna be the death of me," she sighed a whined, sliding down the door on the floor. Gus was quick to hop his way towards her and hop on her lap for sleepy cuddles.

She was falling really quick and deep for this guy!

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #x reader #harry styles fic #harry styles x y/n #boyfriendrry #boyfriend!harry

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hereisleo · 3 years

Text

w/ s.mg + reader

g/ hospital!au: angst, hurt/comfort, friendship, slice of life

w.c/ 1.6k

a.n/ inspired by ‘hospital playlist’, i originally wanted to post this on mingi’s birthday but decided to save the angst for a different time. i also didn’t finished it on time.

t.w/ character death

“I make paper hearts because I want and will keep on loving. This body might wither but I don’t want my love to go with it.”

Song Mingi, third in the line on the heart transplant waitlist, always surprises you. Third might not seem bad for many but within the healthcare system, there are more patients needing transplants than there are donors. The third could be fatal, so does the second and first. Simply with the state of preserving organs before its expiration time of mere hours, it could go to a different centre first.

The colour of a heart is red, the anatomically correct one that is. To Mingi, pink is a heart colour. All the origami hearts in the mason jar, a little bit fuller every time you see it, are a pretty shade of cherry blossom. You see him during your break when you’re not busy, he is often accompanied by his parents during early visiting hours and his friends in the evening hours.

You should have been in the night shift room, napping in the top bunk, close to the ceiling where you bump your head on every waking time. Yet here you are folding paper cranes next to Mingi who is folding paper hearts. Colourful cranes because he never uses any other colour when making his hearts. He scribbles a wish onto the papers before folding them, keeping a tight lip whenever you ask what he wishes for because it won’t come true if he says it out loud.

“How often do you make them, Mingi?”

His hands have long stopped moving and you are on your twelfth cranes. Before Mingi is discharged you want to make a thousand cranes. Doctors don’t believe in superstition or myth like such but it’s a charming thing. You hope to make one wish for Mingi and you’re halfway there. Thirty-three cranes a day, more the following day if you don’t meet your quota. You don’t know where this newfound passion is burning from mayhaps Mingi’s habit rubs off on you. His to remain loving and you to remain hopeful. Something controllable in the constant of uncontrollable.

“Two per hour. I make more in the morning to catch up on the hours I’m asleep.”

No wonder the jar fills up so fast. 48 hearts a day. If only they have that many donors. A life for a life, a recycle or living beyond death in another person, from the brain dead to the living, humans are fascinating. ‘We’ll do our best.’ ‘We don’t know yet.’ Because truly there are many unexpected variables. There are many miracles and losses in a hospital.

You smile, reaching for another paper, Mingi slides the stack towards you with a grin. You’re both the same. He fondly shoo you out to get your sleep after the thirty-third cranes of the night are threaded through the strings. The bunch hangs by his window, bringing much colour to his room instead of the fake plants.

Exactly eight hundred cranes later, Mingi starts to look thinner but his smile is still radiant as ever. You start to worry, there’s no change on the list. His friends and family are still desperately hopeful yet so are you. ‘We still have time.’ How much time does Mingi have?

“Don’t get too attached.”

You close the door of room four silently, nodding at the blue scrubs clad man waiting outside. The nurse accompanying him looks appalled at the blunt words but you know he means well. Mingi is not giving up and neither is the doctor in front of you, you too are far from giving up. Even if hoping hurts, you keep on hoping. There’s no other way other than to stay strong.

Mingi’s laughter reaches you as he greets the new guest, the nurse bowing slightly before disappearing behind the door. You walk out of the VIP ward with a lighter heart. His words ringing in your mind as clear as the blue sky outside.

He has a hand over his chest, feeling his heart beating with the assistance of the VAD machine. The jar of paper hearts is almost full, the lid is never screwed on.

“Don’t you think it’s amazing? You can be hooked up to a VAD or ECMO to help the heart pump blood. Cardiopulmonary bypass to artificially keep the body alive while the heart is temporarily stopped. Modern medicine has come a long way.”

He folds another pink heart, taking his time and you observe his hands, soft golden skin from being kissed by the sun and long fingers that bends gracefully. You diligently watch how he folds his paper heart. He holds it up between his fingers and against the light, he peers into it with searching eyes. The same gaze pierces through you almost as if he’s looking at your soul. He probably is.

“Metaphorically, it can be broken many times and it will still beat. Mended and stitched together with time, a salve of healing words and acceptance. It always seems to know when something is starting and when it’s ending. Terrifyingly brilliant.”

Mingi isn’t in his room when you loop through the final crane. The only pink crane in the bunch. He pouted when you asked for a leaf of pink paper but gave it to you nonetheless with a bright grin. One thousand cranes for one wish. You know your wish for him at that moment but you didn’t tell him.

You sit on his made bed, staring out of the window. The sky is painted in many different shades, only a few visible to human eyes. Other than blues and oranges, the sky is overtaken by a gentle pink. Heart coloured. You glance at the jar of paper hearts, full to the rim and still not closed. You smile, knowing Mingi he would say, ‘let the love overflow!’ You continue to watch the sun slowly sinking beyond the horizon, lighting the other half of the works while yours turn dark. When the light disappears, your phone rings. Your heart knows before your mind does.

“Get your suit.”

Amongst the sea of black and white, Mingi’s soft smile shines the brightest and unmoving. His eyes were in permanent soft crescents, still twinkling even in monochrome. A pile of white chrysanthemums lay unobtrusively around the photo frame. When the rest of the hospital staff, families and friends have left to a different room for their bereavement meal, you stay behind to bask in the comfortable silence between you and Mingi.

You sit down in front of the long table with flowers. Pulling out a heart coloured origami, his smile seems to brighten slightly though it is all in your mind. Your fingers mimic his movements, folding them into what he folds diligently. A heart. You place them on the table. You don’t know if your heart feels heavy or light. It might not feel like anything at all. You’ve braced it for this moment.

“You should eat, he told me to make sure you eat. He got your favourite.”

You think Mingi just smiled. You look up to one of his closest colleagues, he is looking straight at the monochromatic photo with a slight frown. Mingi is a vibrant person after all. He holds a fist out, he nods toward the photo. From Mingi.

A pink paper heart lands on your palm. A gift that keeps on giving. You can only chuckle at the ‘open my heart’ scribbled neatly on it. You unfold it gently, his handwriting speaking to you with the deep voice you can hear in your mind.

‘Hello! Knock knock! Can I come inside your heart? Now you have my heart in your hand. I don’t want you to be sad! I went happily under much loving care and precious time. I don’t have any regrets even though I wrote my will at such a young age, it’s still a blessing to be able to write one. I have a selfish request to ask of you, it’s mentioned on the other paper too… Will you take my position as the chief of cardiothoracic surgery? You have every reason to turn it down, I will respect your decision. This is burdensome but I now live through you. Thank you for housing me within your hopeful heart even when you know how it would end. Your heart is strong! Keep on loving for me!’

“It was a match, the donor’s heart. But due to complications during the procurement, it had to go to a different centre. I suppose he wants to love with his own heart till the very end…”

You nod, eyes blurring momentarily before you blink the haze away. There are many unexpected variables in a hospital. Even if the margin of human error is minimised to its barest existence, life and death will always be out of human control.

“He left the jar for you.”

Of course, he would and you can’t help but laugh, out of the sheer preparation and endless thoughtfulness Mingi put forth.

‘Everyone always thought of what they have achieved so far and what they want to or will leave behind, I’m lucky enough to be able to think of that. Don’t be sad for me. Don’t grief for me for too long. Let there be more hearts to open in your good days than in bad. The sun will always shine again just like how the heart will warm and beat once more.’

Standing up, the dizziness almost makes you think Mingi’s eyes are twinkling. The unmoving gentle smile somehow warms you. One thousand cranes for one wish. Your wish for Mingi has been granted. To keep on loving.

41 notes · View notes

hyucks-archive · 4 years

Text

september 19.

word count: 7,342

genre: fluff

member(s): the one and only lee donghyuck

warning(s): it’s a sort of feel good fic, so unrealism™

author’s note: @haeloce has spoken - ask & you shall be given! this post is dedicated to you my love, thank you for always supporting my works

September 19, 2017.

You look up at the azure sky, the gentle autumn breeze causing your baby hairs to tickle at your face. You close your eyes, breathing in the fresh scent of what you imagine to be of wilting leaves and fresh pumpkins. You shove your hands into the pockets of your block-coloured cardigan; while most prefer to stick to the monochromatic nude colour scheme in the autumn, you like to do the exact opposite. Summer is your season for monochromes, while autumn is your season for colour. There’s just something about contrasting the seasons that you’ve always loved to do.

Pulling out the ticket from your jean pocket, you hold it up against the backdrop – you smile, tilting your head to the side, eyes going back and forth between the photograph printed on the ticket, and the actual, three-dimensional scene in front of you.

“Looks even better than in the picture,” you murmur to yourself, shoulders dropping in satisfaction. You bring your hand down, allowing yourself to really take in the entirety of the one place you’ve hoped to visit for more than half of your life – the Nami Island. It first became popular because it was the filming site for Winter Sonata, but that’s not the reason you’ve always wanted to come. It’s the actual view that you’ve always been drawn to; the tree-lined roads, and the maple and gingko trees that would turn golden red and bright yellow in the fall. Autumn has always been your favourite season, but you’ve never really been able to really drown yourself in the things that are said to define autumn as a season.

You’ve always wanted to visit. But you’ve always only wanted to visit on a September 19th.

Why?

Because you first discovered the existence of Nami Island back in 2008, on September 19. You’re usually not one to care for such things, but when you have close to nothing to really look forward to in life, visiting Nami Island on a future September 19 became the only thing you looked forward to. Yet, it took you a good nine years to get here, because every September 19, you were never able to take an off day from your job at the café.

This year, however, you finally managed to. Granted, you only managed to, because you decided to stop being a beta, and start being an alpha. In other words, you submitted your application for an off day back in January, at the start of the year. It’s only because autumn is the busiest season for the café though. Autumn is the time where everyone rushes in for the pumpkin-flavoured drinks and treats. Autumn is also somehow the season that’s the most associated with coffee.

Placing the ticket in your wallet, you slide your wallet back into your bag, finally ready to begin your exploration of the beautiful island.

As you walk, you’re warmed by the site of numerous families and lovers, who scramble about, trying to get the most scenic shots of the island. There are two toddlers who are fascinated by the squirrel that dashed across the pathway, and another three toddlers who are busy picking at the fallen, dead leaves, while their parents attempt to buy steamed buns as a treat. Further in, there’s a waft of coffee, a scent that is all too familiar to you. You look towards the somewhat populated, hanok-looking café.

The atmosphere is so different from the café you work at. Here, it’s tranquil, there’s beautiful scenery to motivate you, and there’s zero signs of the hustle and bustle of city life (which is something you seriously detest). There aren’t business people who rush in for an americano before zooming out of the door, and there aren’t students who hog the seats to mug for their exams (although, you’ve been guilty of that at some point in your life). It’s just people who are here to really take in the flavour of the coffee, and to appreciate everything about the island.

You decide to buy a cup of tea to-go, just to support the business.

With the warm beverage in hand, you continue to venture further into the island, eventually arriving at a water body at the end of the trail. You look around, scanning the area. It’s even more peaceful here than it was back at the heart of the island; there’s barely anyone here.

You spot a boulder under the tree, so you decide that it’s a sign for you to take a seat, to enjoy your off day, sipping on your cup of tea, while listening to the soft, gentle sounds from the water. You really like this. For more than half of your life, you’ve spent it being overwhelmed by crowds, working ‘till your arms and legs go sore, trying to “get ahead” of everyone else. You’ve always quite liked the feeling of sinking in work, especially labour work, because it takes your mind off of every other thing that went on in your life.

Now that you’re older, and your body isn’t as lively and healthy as it used to be, you’re beginning to learn the importance of taking breaks. Sadly, it’s a little too late. The reputation that you’ve established in the café that you’ve been working at all along, is one of the ‘perfect-worker-who-never-ever-takes-a-day-off-even-when-sick”. You have this whole thing about not disappointing people that’s going on as well.

Sometimes you really hate yourself for it. You scoff – who are you kidding? You always hate yourself for it.

Even the thought of it makes your nose sting and your lips quiver. You blink fast; it’s a technique you’ve come to master, and it works absolutely amazingly when you’re trying to hold back your tears. Not everybody can do this, so you consider it a pretty big talent.

You hear the sound of dead leaves cracking, so you turn your head to the side, where the sound had come from, only to be greeted by a gigantic brown bear, that’s holding a tray of tiny cups, that you assume to be samples from whatever store this bear’s a mascot of. You notice the sunflower that’s pinned to the bear’s chest, reading the text out loud, “Smile! It’s a beary sunny day!”

You break out into a smile, murmuring, “Not the first time I’ve heard that one.”

The bear holds out a tiny cup, allowing you to take a peek at the brown liquid that fills it. “Is this coffee?” you ask, looking up at the face of the bear. It shakes its head, pulling out a card that he had hidden beneath the tray. He passes it to you.

“Try our brand new bear liquid! Contains everything bear-friendly.” You raise a brow, looking back up at the bear, “You know that doesn’t sound very appetising, right? No one’s going to want to drink,” you hold up both hands, gesturing inverted commas as you say, “bear liquid.”

There’s a hint of a shrug from the bear, before it reaches behind itself, bringing out a mini sunflower badge. It holds the sunflower badge out in front of you, gesturing for you to take it. “You guys give sunflower badges for free?” you ask, bringing the badge up close to inspect it. “That’s kind of a good marketing idea, actually,” you say, spotting the name of the café printed at the bottom of the badge. “But it doesn’t seem very cost-efficient,” you continue, poking the needle of the pin through your cardigan, hooking it back in, securing the pin on your left chest.

“Thank you,” you say, patting the bear on its shoulder, “You’re doing a beary good job.”

The bear holds out a thumbs up, turning around to take its leave.

You watch the retreating figure of the bear, wondering how tiring it must be for the person that’s inside the gigantic bear suit. Luckily, it’s autumn, which means cool weather, but it also makes you think about how tiring it must be for the bear in the summer. Getting up onto your two feet, you smile to yourself, “Well, I have nothing to do,” you whisper, allowing the curiosity to take over you as you leap forward, taking hurried footsteps until you spot the bear a short distance ahead of you. “I guess you’ll be my entertainment for the day,” you conclude, grinning widely.

You continue to follow behind the bear, taking cover behind trees whenever it gets stopped by a bunch of kids and their parents who wants a photo with it. It continues to give out the bear liquid, but you also notice that even though it has interacted with more than 50 different people, it hasn’t given out another sunflower badge. You wonder if it’s because it isn’t allowed to give out too many of those, which, obviously, would make sense. Then again, what makes you legible for the sunflower badge, and not the rest?

The thought swims around in your head as you continue to trail behind the brown mascot, the tiny cups of bear liquid slowly reducing in quantity.

You stare at the teddy bear sunflowers that decorate the exterior of the café. “Oh, that makes sense,” you think aloud, finally understanding why the mascot of the café is a big brown bear, along with the sunflower. You take a seat on a wooden bench, crossing a leg over the other, sipping on the tea that’s now cold.

Finally, the bear finishes giving out the samples of bear liquid. You watch as it poses with different children who are so amazed by the big, live-sized, animate bear. You take another big gulp of tea; it must be tiring, not only does it have to wear that heavy, stuffy bear suit, it also has to continuously entertain the tourists that come by every day. Because you’re so engrossed in your own thoughts, you fail to notice that the bear has spotted you. It wonders why you’re here.

“Oh, gosh,” you gasp, body tensing up for a split second. The bear is now suddenly in front of you.

“Hello,” you greet, smiling. The bear bows its head. There’s a pause, then you decide to break the silence with, “Do you talk?”

The bear gestures at its wrist, before folding an arm, resting its chin in its paw, tilting its head to the side questioningly. “You want to know the time?” you gather from its gestures. It nods its head, so you check your watch. “It’s seven thirty-two PM,” you inform. The bear claps its paws excitedly, and you react with a confused smile.

“I can talk now,” he speaks, sitting himself down beside you. “Don’t you have to work?” you ask.

“It’s two minutes past my shift,” he replies.

“Cool,” you say. You lick your lips, pursing them, then deciding that you should ask the question that would get you the answer you’ve been wanting to know. “Hey, can I ask you something?” you start. The bear turns to look at you, “You followed me all the way here just to ask me something?”

“Well, kind of,” you say, “Technically, I derived the question after following you.”

“So you admit you were following me?”

“I didn’t deny it to begin with,” you state nonchalantly. You can hear the bear smirk under his bear head. “You’re honest, I like that,” he says.

“Thanks,” you reply.

“Go ahead,” he cues.

“Why’d you give me a sunflower badge, but not anyone else? I thought this was part of your café’s marketing.” You point at the sunflower that’s still pinned to your cardigan. You hear the bear chuckle under its mask, its body folding forwards as he does so, a sign of amusement. “I gave it to you because I thought you might need it,” he explains, almost matter-of-factly.

You’re slightly stunned by his reply. You think back to the situation earlier – you were busy dwelling in the thoughts that make you feel sad, that by the end of it, you were blinking away tears. Just how much of that did the bear see? You’re uncomfortable just by the thought of it; it doesn’t feel right at all knowing that someone might’ve caught a glimpse of your weakness. You don’t want that. You don’t think you can live knowing that someone potentially saw you struggling.

“But don’t worry,” he begins, as though reading your mind, “I’ve already forgotten everything.”

“That doesn’t really reassure me,” you say, eyeline falling to the ground. The bear leans his body forward, mirroring your position. “It’s human,” he says. Your eyes travel up to look at his bear face. “I get really frustrated sometimes, too. But I don’t go all the way to an offshore island to release the stress,” he pokes, eliciting a small smile from you.

“I didn’t come here specifically to destress,” you share, “I came because I’ve been meaning to come for nine years already. I just only found the chance to now,” you finish.

The bear looks at you through its mesh eyes. When he first spotted you back by the water body, he saw the way your brows knitted, the way your lips quivered, and the way you were quick to blink away your tears. He felt bad for imposing on a moment that seemed so private, but he would feel twice as bad if he had just walked away, pretending like he didn’t see what happened. So he decided to build up the courage to go up to you – it worked out really well that he’s in the bear suit. In fact, it’s working out even better now, because he can stare at you, and you wouldn’t even know. He can sit beside you, talk to you like it’s nothing to him, because all you see, is a big, brown bear.

Still, he can’t deny the slight fluttering in his heart. It’s cliché, and it’s definitely not right. But he can’t deny, that he’s attracted to you. It’s superficial, he knows. But he’s also only going to be able to see you today, and today only. After which, you’d return to the mainland, while he’d remain here, continuing his job as a mascot of the café.

He likes the way you’re smiling fondly, just at the thought of being able to finally visit the island you’ve been longing to visit.

“Do you like the island?” he asks, mentally slapping himself for not being able to come up with a better question.

“Of course,” you say, beaming. “It’s everything I imagined. And,” you pause, “I got to meet a really friendly bear, too.”

His heart does another thing at your declaration. It’s foolish, he’s well aware. But again, tonight’s his only chance to experience this. Then, you’d be gone, and he’d be back to his regular daily routine.

“Do you live on Nami island?” you ask.

“I don’t. I take the first ferry here every morning, and the last ferry back every night. The pay is good, so I don’t mind the tedious travelling,” he shares. “Wouldn’t you rather just live on this island?” you question. “Do you know how expensive that is?” he replies.

You shrug, “Wouldn’t your total expenses spent on travelling equate to renting a place here?”

“I travel for free,” he says, “The boss pays for that. I bring in customers by wagging my bear butt, so it’s a fair exchange.”

You laugh, amused by the way the bear phrases its words.

“Must be nice,” you say.

“What about you? You look like a student, so I’m assuming you work part-time?”

The bear notes the smile you force out. He can see the slight bitterness peeking from your eyes. He mentally slaps himself a second time – he must’ve said something wrong.

“I’m actually taking a gap year right now,” you share, “So I’m working full time, to save up for school.”

He understands now. It’s odd, to say the least. He feels a form of connection with you, even though he knows this’ll never come to fruition. Still, even if it’s just for tonight, he’d like to be able to just talk about what he’s been bottling up for the last few years with someone. Even better, that this someone is someone he mildly feels attracted to, and whom will go back to being a stranger after the conversation.

“Somehow, you’ll feel that whatever you make, it’s never enough,” he begins, turning his bear face away. You wait for him to continue.

“No matter how much I earn, it’s not enough. I was once naïve enough to think that I’d be able to eventually fund myself to do the things I want to do, but as I’m ageing, I’m starting to understand that that’s not possible. It’s all fiction. Fantasy. It’s all what I conjure up in my head.”

Your shoulders sink upon hearing what he has to say. Why does it seem to hit the exact points? Why do you seem to be able to relate to his plight? In other words, there are other people out there, dealing with the exact same things as you?

“Don’t say that,” you manage out, trying to think as positively as possible for the both of you. “Money doesn’t buy happiness.”

The bear turns to face you, tone serious as he says, “Yeah, money doesn’t buy happiness. But money buys you the things that make you happy.”

You feel a sting in your heart. You’ve always tried to psycho yourself into believing that what you’re going through isn’t so bad. That you’d still be able to be happy, because money doesn’t buy anyone happiness. Because of that, you’d always feel guilty for not being able to find contentment in your situation. You thought it just meant you’re greedy.

You realise now, it doesn’t.

You try your best to paint on a smile. But the bear knows well enough that it’s all pretence. He wishes you didn’t have to try so hard to be okay. At least, not in front of him.

“Who knows where we’d be a year from now? We might even be doing the things we like,” you say, feigning a tone of excitement.

“We wouldn’t know where each other is a year from now,” the bear says.

“Will you still be working here, a year from now?” you ask.

“I’ve been here for six years now.”

“It must’ve been cute, to be able to see a bear mascot getting taller every year,” you comment, lightening the mood. You can hear the bear smile, which makes you smile in return. The bear’s heart does another flip.

“Anyway,” you say, “How about I see you, a year from now, right here?”

The bear’s breath stops for a moment – are you for real?

“Really?” he asks. You nod your head. “Really.”

“Okay,” he agrees, though you can’t see the goofy grin on his face.

“What’s your name?” you ask, only realising now that you’ve basically revealed just about everything about yourself to him, excluding your name, yet you don’t even know what he looks like under that bear mask.

“Donghyuck. Lee Donghyuck.”

“Donghyuck,” you repeat after him, smiling, “Nice name,” you say, telling him your name in exchange. “So Donghyuck,” you say, getting up from the bench. “A year from now, I hope I can walk away with my memory of you, not being a bear.”

Donghyuck chuckles, agreeing.

“See you in a year, y/n.”

September 19, 2018.

You hold the bag of carp bread to your chest, your heart filled with excitement. You’ve practically anticipated for the entire of 2018, for the 19th of September to come. It’s interesting how just one conversation, of course, filled with mutual understanding and relatability, had created such a connection between you and Donghyuck.

There hasn’t been a day where you didn’t find yourself thinking about Donghyuck. You’d wonder if he had earned enough to do something he likes. You’d wonder if he’s staying adequately hydrated despite the scorching sun. You’d even wonder, if he still remembers his promise with you. A part of you is obviously afraid that after making a trip down to Nami island, that the boy in the bear suit would’ve completely forgotten about you. A part of you is afraid that when you greet him with a smile, he’d look at you with confused eyes, questioning how you know of him.

Then again, an even bigger part of you is simply hopping around in absolute joy at the mere thought of being able to reunite with a friend. You’ve never been able to meet anyone that could relate to you, the way Donghyuck can.

Upon arrival on the island, you rush off the ferry, immediately heading towards the café he works at. It’s close to 5PM in the evening. You were held up at work, because your boss had insisted that you at least take the morning shift, which made you jittery the whole day because you weren’t sure if you’d be able to make it. Luckily, it wasn’t that busy today, so you were even let off ten minutes prior to the end of your shift.

Just as the café comes into view, you spot the giant bear hobbling about, playing around with the group of kids. You immediately break out into a bright smile, a sense of relief washing over you. At the very least, he’s still here, like he said he’d be.

You bring up the bag of carp bread – will Donghyuck like this?

Donghyuck smiles at the adorable children who are rushing to cuddle him. He isn’t sure of the exact time, but he can tell that more than half of the day has gone by, and there is still no sign of you. He’s beginning to think that maybe he shouldn’t have been so naïve in the first place, gullible enough to think that a random stranger would actually come all the way back to the island just to meet with him again.

Heck, he’s in a bear suit. Nobody’s ever going to like a person that’s in a bear suit.

“Look here,” a mother coos, holding up her camera. Donghyuck bends down beside the child, holding him close as the mother begins to snap numerous shots of her baby son. “Thank you,” the mother says, reaching for her child as she presses a loving kiss to his forehead, gushing as she whispers praises to her little boy. Donghyuck has a pursed smile on his face; must be nice for that kid.

Donghyuck isn’t given the chance to dwell on the topic because a rush of kids come by, screaming and yelling excitedly at the sight of the bear. He joins in, chasing the kids around, and that is when he spots the one person he’s been waiting for (a whole year).

You’re standing there, a bag in hand. He isn’t even able to control the smile that spreads across his face.

“Hey!” a child shouts, tugging at Donghyuck’s bear leg.

You bring the bag of carp bread back to your side, smiling widely as you make your way towards the bear. As though working in your favour, the kids begin to clear just as you approach your friend. You give a small wave, your heartbeat picking pace in fear that he might not remember you. Just as quickly, though, your heartbeat slows when he returns the wave. He points at the wooden bench that you were seated on a year ago, and you get what he’s trying to say immediately.

You head over to the bench first, taking a seat as Donghyuck poses for a few more pictures with different children.

Once he’s done, he jogs over, stopping a small distance in front of you.

“Look what I brought!” you say excitedly, waving the bag in the air. “It’s carp bread, because bears eat fish,” you giggle. You thought you were really witty to have thought of such an idea.

Donghyuck chuckles. Now it’s his turn to feel nervous, because he’s going to have to remove his bear suit to reveal himself, like he promised.

“Are you going to change out of that?” you ask, looking on with anticipation.

“I’ll be right back,” he says.

You wait patiently for the boy to return. He does, within five minutes. He tries to soothe his hair down as he approaches you, moistening his lips with his saliva, tugging at the end of his hoodie to make sure he looks decently presentable.

You look up, meeting eyes with a tanned skin, lean-looking boy, who is making his way towards you. You raise both brows – is that Donghyuck?

Sure enough, the boy stops just in front of you, scratching the back of his head in an attempt to let out his nerves. He smiles shyly, formally introducing, “Hi. I’m the boy in the bear suit.”

Your encouraging smile calms Donghyuck’s active nerves. He looks at you in the eyes, the same feeling of attraction he had felt a year ago, still evidently present a year later. He wonders if you feel it too.

“You know, you kind of look like a bear,” you comment, eyeing Donghyuck up and down. He rolls his eyes in response, scrunching his nose, “I don’t.”

“Here,” you say, holding out the bag of carp bread. “Eat your fish.”

Donghyuck scoffs, feigning offence, before taking the bag from you, and taking a seat on the bench, gesturing for you to sit beside him. He brings out a carp bread, splitting it down the middle. He hands you a half, and you take it graciously, biting a chunk off. “So how has your year been?” you start off, still in a little bit of disbelief that this is how Lee Donghyuck looks like.

For a whole year, the only image you’ve had of him, was the brown bear suit, with the sunflower badge. Even when you tried to imagine what he looks like under the mask; you’ve never came to the visual image of the being before you. He’s good looking, obviously, and by that, you mean that he’s way better looking than you had imagined him to be. There’s something that’s just really cute about his small little button nose, his doe eyes, and his round face.

“What you said was true,” he says, swallowing. “2017-me would’ve never been able to guess where I’d be a year later,” he continues, “I’m learning how to dance.”

You smile in pleasure, “I’m so happy to hear that.”

Donghyuck returns the smile. “What did you do for the past year?”

“I saved,” you say, smiling proudly. “I saved enough for now, so if I keep the momentum going, I’d have enough for university, too.”

“Then I guess it’s mandatory for me to tell you that you’re doing a great job,” he commends.

You feel something stirring in your heart. You’ve never been told that before. It feels funny, now that you’ve heard it. Donghyuck notices the change in your expression, and somehow, he knows the reason why.

“You can always come to me to brag and show off,” he says, tone gentle and encouraging. “I’ll always tell you how you’re doing a good job.”

You look at Donghyuck, meeting his eyes. He’s sending you signals of comfort through his gaze, and you’re receiving them well. Somehow, it’s only the second time you’re having a conversation with him, and it’s the first where you’re looking at the actual him. Yet, it feels as though he’s impacted your life even more than the people who’ve been in it for way more than he has.

“Want to know a secret?” you ask. Donghyuck nods his head.

“Back when I was younger, I was walking beside a classmate in school. We were about to go down the stairs, but she tripped on her own shoelace. She rolled down the stairs, and laid unconscious,” you recall, letting out a deep sigh at the end. Donghyuck looks at you with a brow raised, “And?” he prompts, urging you to continue.

“You’d think my first reaction would be pure concern for that classmate,” you say, focusing on the dead leaves that decorate the ground. You kick at a maple leaf, “But it wasn’t. When I saw the way everyone rushed forward, all attention on her, I thought to myself, ‘why wasn’t I the one who rolled down the stairs?’,” you take a pause, turning to read Donghyuck’s expression. He doesn’t seem to have any real thoughts about what you said.

“Twisted, right?” you end off with a pursed smile.

“No,” he states, taking another bite of his carp bread, completely unfazed.

“No?” you repeat.

“No,” he reiterates.

“Why not?” you question.

“Because,” he says, “It’s not abnormal to think that way.”

“You don’t have to side with me just because we are friends, you know?”

“I’m not. I just think that it isn’t crazy weird why you thought that way.” He says, shrugging his shoulders. “It’s kind of like how it is in my dance class. There’s this guy, his name is Jisung. He’s younger by two years, but his talent is more than double of mine. He gets a lot of love and attention for being the youngest of the team, and for being the talent that he is. Sometimes, when I see the way he gets praised for executing a move really well, I’d think to myself, ‘why wasn’t I the one being praised? I thought I did the move pretty well’.”

You chuckle at his kind attempt to try to make it seem as though what you had thought at the time was normal, though the circumstances are obviously far from being similar. Donghyuck is sweet, to say the least.

“I’m sure you dance well,” you say, eyeing his long legs, “You look like you’d dance well,” you correct.

“I’m serious about what I said though,” he says, reverting the topic, referring to how he’d be willing to listen to you brag any time.

“I might just take you up on the offer,” you reply, “As long as it remains valid, for a long, long time.”

“Are you trying to tell me to stay in contact with you?” he questions.

“You mean you didn’t intend to?” you raise a brow.

“You’d know where to find me when you need me, but I can’t say the same for myself for when I want to see you,” Donghyuck says, looking at you expectantly. Can you take that as a confession? Did he just say that he wants to see you?

Then again, so what if it is a confession?

You’re well aware of how you feel about the boy. You know that there’s a connection. You know that sparks are flying. You know. You know it all too well. But how can you be sure that Donghyuck is meant to be something more? You met him under circumstances that most wouldn’t even consider normal, and it’s barely the second time you’re talking to him. How can you be so sure, that he’s supposed to mean something more to you? How can you be sure that you’re only feeling this way, that you’re only feeling the butterflies and the somersaults inside you, because you’re truly attracted to him, and not because of how he makes you feel?

He makes you feel understood. That’s unfamiliar to you.

“Please,” you begin, in an attempt to try to brush off what he had said. “I kind of like that we see each other once a year.”

Donghyuck feels a light sting in his heart. “Why?” he asks.

“It makes our friendship special. How many people can say that they know of someone, who becomes their friend, on only one day out of the entire year?”

Donghyuck fakes a smile, “So you’ll be back in a year?”

“Yes.”

Donghyuck nods his head. Maybe he should just be happy that this means he’ll get to see you, at least another time, a year from now.

He shouldn’t be too greedy, right?

September 19, 2019.

It’s the third time that you’re going to be meeting Donghyuck. You’re starting to kind of understand what people mean by ‘distance makes the heart grow fonder’. Oddly enough, in the past year, Donghyuck wasn’t just a passing thought like he was in 2018. This year, he was quite a prominent thought. Sometimes, you’d even have sleepless nights, spent tossing and turning, just thinking about him. You’ve even gotten the urge to just go online to search for him, but there are so many Lee Donghyucks in the world, that you weren’t sure if you’d be able to find the exact one. It would also be a breach of your friendship terms, since the both of you are supposed to only rekindle every September 19th.

Today, you managed to take the full day off. You check your watch – it’s 10:47AM. Why have you arrived at Nami island at such an early hour? Knowing fully well that Donghyuck has a shift to fulfil?

Simple.

You miss him. A lot more than you’d like to admit.

Sounds silly, you’re obviously aware. How can you develop feelings for someone that you only see once a year, and that you barely know?

You’d like to think it’s just because of how curious you are as a person, which results in constantly being curious about Donghyuck. But again, that’s just you trying to talk yourself into denial. No matter what you say, you can’t deny that you’ve debated over fifty times about coming to Nami island before the 19th of September, knowing fully well, that he’d be here.

But every time you were about to purchase the ferry ticket, you’d stop yourself.

A year may have gone by, but the same worry still remains.

How can you be sure, that his presence in your life, is meant to be something more?

“Hey!”

Your attention snaps up to the familiar voice, the voice you’ve only been able to think of for the past year.

“Donghyuck?” you murmur. He isn’t in his bear suit today.

He dons a bright smile, jogging over towards you. “We must have more telepathy than we’re aware of,” he comments, chuckling to himself. You can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips as you ask, “You’re not working today?”

“I took the day off,” he says. “I didn’t think you’d actually come this early, though.”

“And what if I didn’t?”

“I would’ve sat at that wooden bench until you showed up.”

His non-hesitance as he said that elicits a feeling of warmth to spread through your entire body. Donghyuck really makes you feel things, huh?

“You’d do that?” you ask, just so you can hear it loud and clear. Donghyuck smiles, nodding his head. “You would’ve done the same. Otherwise, what did you intend to do while waiting for me to end my shift if I were working today?”

Your smile only widens.

“What do you have planned for the day?” you ask.

“Nothing,” he replies.

“Shall we find somewhere to sit and eat then?” you suggest.

So five hours later, you’re seated opposite Donghyuck, empty plates and half-empty cups between the both of you. He has his arms propped on the table, listening intently to whatever you had to say. Conversation is easy when it comes to Donghyuck. He shows you that he’s listening. He makes sure to pay attention to what you say.

You feel the connection growing by the minute.

“That doesn’t justify why you’ve never dated anyone before,” he says, shaking his head disapprovingly as he takes a sip of his drink.

“Says you,” you retort, “But I’m sure if I showed my co-worker a picture of you, she’d go crazy.”

Donghyuck chuckles, “You’re exaggerating.”

“I’m not!” you defend, trying to put on the most serious expression you can possibly make. “She’s cute too. Come to think of it, she’s totally your type.”

Donghyuck furrows his brows. “What makes you think I’m into cute?”

You smile, rolling your eyes. “Okay, then what is your type?”

“Shouldn’t you know best?”

Silence.

Donghyuck’s just staring into your eyes.

Your heart is thumping so hard, so fast, you’re starting to lose feeling in your hands and legs.

You let out an awkward laugh – there’s no denying it this time. It’s definitely a confession.

“Very funny,” you say, trying to change the topic. “I have to leave already, I’m working a full-day shift tomorrow and I’m in charge of opening,” you say, getting up from your seat. Donghyuck follows after, allowing you to lead the way out of the eatery.

“Hey,” Donghyuck calls, taking your wrist in his warm hold, turning you around to face him. “Don’t you think it’s about time to tell me where you work? Or where I can locate you? Or your number, at the very least?”

You’re looking into Donghyuck’s eyes, and you can see the sincerity. Like him, you want this to be something more. But you can’t just turn a blind eye and rid the fact that you’re just not sure of what might happen in the future, and that’s what scares you. You don’t want to commit to something, at the expense of knowing all too well, that you might get hurt. What if Donghyuck was never meant to be a part of your life? You’ve seen it in the movies – when you let someone in, and they weren’t supposed to be in to begin with, it only ends in tears and sorrow.

“Look, Donghyuck,” you begin, trying your best to think of a way to get your point across accurately.

“What makes you so sure that we’re meant to be something more?” you ask.

Donghyuck’s brow twitches, a sign that he’s taken aback by your question.

“See? You don’t know it yourself. What if we commit, and it just bites us in the back?”

Donghyuck runs a hand through his hair, “How would you know that?” he counters, “What if it doesn’t?”

The both of you just stand there, looking into each other’s eyes, trying to find the answer you’re both looking for.

“I believe in fate,” you say, breaking the eye contact. “On September 19, a year from now, I’ll be working at the café,” you continue, eyes finding its way to meet Donghyuck’s once more. “It’s located in Seoul. If, on that day, on the 19th of September, 2020, you’re able to somehow find me, I’ll take it as the sign that you and I are meant to be something more.”

Donghyuck furrows his brows at your proposition, “But Seoul is so big, how am I supposed to-”

“If you can’t find me, it just means that’s the end of our connection,” you cut in. “And you can’t cheat. You can only start looking on September 19.”

Donghyuck thinks it’s the end. He doesn’t think it’s possible. But if he wants this enough, he’s going to have to try.

“Promise?” you ask, putting out your pinkie finger.

“I promise,” he says, hooking his finger with yours, pressing your thumbs together.

What’s going to happen a year from now?

September 19, 2020.

“Here you go, enjoy your drink,” you greet, passing the iced americano to the man in the suit. He tilts his head in gratitude, before scurrying out the door. You take a moment to stare at the door, it’s going to be afternoon soon, and there’s still no sign of Donghyuck. You wonder if he’s even taken up the challenge, and is actually going about Seoul right now.

“Why do you keep staring at the door today? Are you waiting for someone?” Eunha, your co-worker, asks. You shake your head, shrugging, “I just can’t wait to knock off, that’s all,” you lie. Eunha furrows her brows teasingly, leaning in close as she says, “Please, I’ve worked with you for years now. That isn’t your ‘I-can’t-wait-to-knock-off’ look,” she says, pulling back.

You roll your eyes, hitting her on the arm lightly, before re-busying yourself with preparing the orders of the customers.

Another few hours go by, and now, the sun is beginning to set.

“You’re staring at the door again,” Eunha lilts, a teasing smile on her face as she sips at her coffee. “Stop, I’m really just excited to knock off soon,” you say.

“If you want to knock off so bad, you can knock off now,” she says, placing her coffee down on the counter. “I’m cool with closing on my own tonight.” She blinks her big eyes a few times, smiling teasingly, knowing that you’d deny her offer.

“I can’t do that to you,” you say, laughing awkwardly, “Think about all the times you sacrificed your nights staying with me for closing. I ought to return the favour.”

“Ought?” Eunha repeats, giggling to herself. “You’re definitely hiding something.”

You roll your eyes, moving on to do the dishes to avoid slipping up any further.

Donghyuck sighs, coming out of the eighth café he’s looked into today. As expected, this is basically mission impossible. How is he supposed to be able to find you, when you didn’t even bother with giving him any clue aside from that it’s located in Seoul?

He looks around, trying to spot any other cafés that might be in the area, before he’d move on to the next.

There’s still a good few hours before the end of September 19.

He might still have a chance.

You bite down on your lip. It’s five minutes to closing.

“I guess we weren’t meant to be,” you murmur, eyes refusing to leave the doors.

“Whoever it is you’re waiting for, they’ll show up,” Eunha chimes in, continuing to wipe down the counter.

“What makes you so sure?” you ask.

“Because it’s my first time seeing you anticipate something like that,” she says. Eunha might not be someone you contact outside of work, so it’s easy to forget how well she knows you. But Eunha is right. You've never anticipated anything this much.

“I hope you’re right,” you say, pursing your lips.

You didn’t know it a year ago when you made the proposition, but you know it now.

You really want to see Lee Donghyuck walking through those doors.

But as the time slowly dwindles away, you can’t be sure that it isn’t just your own wishful thinking.

Donghyuck kicks at the pavement, running a hand through his hair. The day is almost over, and still, no luck. He has been to eighteen different cafés already, and there’s just no sign of you.

If only he didn’t have to work the morning shift, then he’d have more time to actually look in more cafés.

He stops a short distance in front of the nineteenth café. He isn’t usually one to believe in anything like fate, but he’s desperate at this point. He looks to the sky, clasping his hands together, “Please. Make 19 our special number. Please let y/n be in this café.”

Taking in a deep breath, Donghyuck walks forward, towards the café.

Eunha checks the time, then looks over at you. You're sitting there, dazed, expression blank. She purses her lips in sympathy, calling out, “Do you want me to lock the doors or wait another f-”

Eunha is cut off when the bell chimes. You immediately turn towards the entrance of the café.

It's Donghyuck.

Oh gosh, it's actually Donghyuck.

Donghyuck makes eye contact with you. A sense of accomplishment and warmth overwhelms him. You feel your nose stinging, and your heart swelling.

“Sorry, we’re cl-”

You don’t know what comes over you, but you run forward. You throw yourself into Donghyuck’s arms, hugging him tight.

“Okay then, I’ll be over there,” Eunha says, excusing herself.

You pull away.

“You found me,” you sniff, grinning wide.

“I promised I would,” Donghyuck replies, reflecting your expression.

“I guess we are really meant for something more,” you mumble, taking in the moment.

“So,” Donghyuck says, holding out his phone. “Can I finally have your number?”

#nct scenarios #haechan scenarios #haechan fluff #haechan #nct fluff #nct imagines #haechan imagines #nct #nct dream #nct 127 #nct haechan #fic #fic: september 19

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