#Museum life chose us | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hoseoksluna · 4 months

Text

BERRIES | jjk ft. jhs

pairing: ex-boyfriend!jungkook x oc (feat. hobi)

genre: angst, tiny fluff, itty bitty smut

word count: 6.0k

summary: your ex-boyfriend shouldn't have this much influence over you when you have a new man, should he?

playlist: berries / pinterest board: berries

warnings: depression, daddy issues, use of titles, oc has dirty thoughts about hobi (do we blame her? no, we do not), slowburn, implied sex, dd/lg, soft argument

note: this took every last bit of my strength, so i had to split it up. i'm sorry if this is a piece of absolute shit, but as you all know work this week squeezed everything out of me and i'm so exhausted that i'm not even sure if this is worth posting. i struggled a lot with this fic, rewrote it multiple times, and i'm so very happy that it's finished. i hope you all enjoy the start of a new series, this time a slowburn that will have more parts, more depth and everything. and surprise! it features hobi, my beautiful husband. it was my first time writing about him and he's missing so terribly from my soul that it was one of the reasons why i struggled so much. i wish it weren't like this for my first time with him, but oh well. i hope you, guys, enjoy. please, let me know what you think. <3

The satiny material of your cream-colored dress must be the one and the same that these sculptures had worn centuries ago. You can almost imagine the softness kissing your fingerprint instead of the cool stone as you graze your touch against each and every immortalized angel of loveliness. You’re stirred by a sense of poignancy—that you’re alive and they’re not and yet you believe that as you stare at them, feel what they’ve been through the more you study their eternal expressions, they stare right back with their eternally tender eyes, see right through you, through your heart, know its contents. You wish you were in their place instead; you’re sure they would’ve handled your cursed life better than you can.

Or you wish you were as stony as them.

But you’re an opulent fountain of emotions that are anything but gentle.

This thought distracts your attention from the way your feet ache in the boots you chose to wear to impress your date. Thigh high, with black knee socks underneath to keep you warm from the cruel breath of autumn. Hoseok is carrying your trenchcoat as you’re adventuring on your own in this art museum and that’s the only sliver of kindness he’s shown you this very morning.

The only compliment you’ve received from him was a nonverbal one. An up and down look with a smirk creeping in when he picked you up at your apartment. No hug, no caress. You felt so small—and awkward a little bit, comparison rushing in. Not in the form of a wave of the sea, but in the form of a snake, its thick body tightening around your throat. An ouroboros, which made you regret going out on a date so soon.

It hasn’t even been a month since you’ve become a single girl again, learning how to walk in this new, harsh reality, your legs wobbly, weak and too, too heavy. And the lack of comfortable physical contact made you see your ex-boyfriend before your own eyes, the memory of how he acted at the beginning of your first date. The way he picked you up into his arms due to his excitement of being with you and carried you inside his car. He put on your seatbelt for you. Drove carefully. Held your hand as he led you to the restaurant he picked for you. Even during the walk after while you talked about the stars and you couldn’t help but tell him that his eyes were filled with them.

Hoseok did neither of those things. He had asked you where you wanted to go and you’ve wanted to visit the museum for quite a while, so you suggested it. He had agreed, no sort of enthusiasm evident in his voice muffled by the phone call. And you’ve barely exchanged a few words during the half an hour of your time spent here, let alone led an entire conversation. You should’ve heeded the warning when it was right in front of you.

Hoseok is certainly not of the artistic kind.

Looks quite bored as you turn your head to look at him, your coat dangling from his arm so terribly devastatingly. And when you focus your gaze to your right, where a dark wine-tinged room, with golden frames of paintings, awaits you and where you’ve longed to go the moment you stepped a foot inside this grand building, a distaste pools on your tongue, your former aesthetic elation ruined.

You’re surprised he didn’t stand you up.

You don’t even want to take pictures. As a matter of fact, you want to go home. But you can’t. Can’t ravage your only possibility and means of forgetting the person you still love. Can’t really encourage Hoseok to leave your life, not when you’re the type of person that doesn’t find love upon every corner you turn to.

This is your only chance. And he’s the only man you’ll conceivably have in your life for quite some time.

You walk up to him and take your coat from his arm. His eyes deepen on you, in fact they haven’t strayed from you during the entire half an hour—and that bothers you. If your ex-boyfriend were here, he’d share the beauty with you. Make you laugh so hard that the sound would echo around the vast room. Perhaps give life to the sculptures and they would laugh along, too.

Your heart hangs heavy in your chest, sinks ever so slowly and you can’t bear it. You need to leave. Take this date elsewhere, hope for betterment to grace you—to have but a fragment of pity for you.

“You hungry?” you ask, softly, willing your voice to be smooth and not divulge the brassy storm of your emotions to him. Hoseok doesn’t know anything about you. Doesn’t know that you yearn for another person to be standing in his place. “Did you have breakfast?”

Hoseok needed the date to be in the early hours. Said he had a meeting in the afternoon. Would be working on a project with his colleagues until the late hours. You didn’t mind, not really, in fact it animated you—brought briskness into the sadness of your headspace, knowing it was rainy and cloudy outside. Perfect weather for the influence of the arts. That is, until you realized that it was a grave mistake to take a businessman to a museum; that you dragged a heathen to a church.

Hoseok shifts his weight on each foot, his shoulders swaying with the movement, and he licks his lip, bringing your attention to them. Small, but full—you wonder what they would feel like against yours. Wonder if he’d be gentle with you or violent. If he’d stroke your hair or grip it; fondle the ribbon you’re wearing in a half up do or untie it, entirely. Use it for another means like your ex-boyfriend invariably did.

Your distaste grows, but not for Hoseok. It grows like poison ivy for yourself and your tendency to compare him with someone he doesn’t deserve to be juxtaposed with.

Guilt blossoms in your sternum, the leaves of that poison ivy. Pretty to the eye, but deadly for the body. Just like you. You’re too baneful for such a pretty man like Hoseok. You’d do well to respect his boundaries and abstain from physical contact, prevent red rashes from marring his skin.

“I haven’t eaten yet,” Hoseok says, just as softly, rubbing the nape of his neck, the black cloth of his dress shirt taut over his arms—a pretty sight, one that could be hanging in the wine-tinged room for generations to gawk upon. “Truth be told, I was too nervous.”

A brief smile adorns his slender face and you melt, the poison ivy scratching you raw. Your heart picks up its rhythm, flattery clothing it in a protective layer and you pout, your hand itching to graze his forearm. But a hidden fight rises in you, an army of darkness ready with their bows, their arrows shooting thoughts into your brain about how little you’re worthy of such kindness and favor.

Though when Hoseok blushes upon seeing your tender expression, it gives you some sort of strength to stand tall against those demons. Despite the fact you don’t understand it, you don’t question it either and you cling to it, sensing its freedom speaking to you in a foreign language. A yearning forms in you, one you haven’t yet had the possibility of meeting. A yearning to learn its syntax and vocabulary. And when you give in to it, the poison ivy in you lessens.

This is good.

You reciprocate his smile and you coo. Find it the easiest thing in the world. And because you’re so grateful for what he’s unwittingly done for you, you decide to share your truth with him as well.

“Let’s go eat, then.” Your eyes crinkle and you’d bet light flickers in them, for your whole body does, you sense it. A warm light enlarges on its axis, taking a hold of the heaviness you felt. “There’s no need to be nervous. It’s what I told myself when I was getting ready. My stomach hurt and believe it or not when I told myself these words, it stopped.”

Hoseok chuckles, his arm slapping back to his side, but you notice that it trembles. You’re so touched by it that you become angry at yourself, self-hatred clashing with that warmth. You misinterpreted him so unfairly and what’s more, you wallowed in your brokenness and your heartbreak, when Hoseok had been nervous and timid the whole time, which now sheds light on his lack of closeness with you.

You’re despicable. And the awareness of it transforms into that snake tightening around your throat again. Only this time, you welcome it. Long for it to take your life. It’s the least you deserve.

But you’re not letting yourself loll in the bed of your horrendous emotions. No, you lift your hand and you caress his arm, the one that quakes. And amidst the sepulchral attention of the sculptures, you’re a witness to that trembling’s halt, to Hoseok’s visible tranquility, and you want to weep.

You know if you were to gaze at the eternal angels of beauty, you’d see stony tears appear on their ivory cheeks, too.

“I’m sorry,” Hoseok mumbles and you curl your brows in confusion, not knowing what he’s apologizing for. Hoseok opens his mouth again to speak, but he pauses, sloshing the words in his mouth. You feel so bad that a craving to better yourself overcomes your entire being. “I’m sorry for being such a buzzkill. If you wanna explore this place more, we can. I saw you looking at the room with the paintings.”

He tilts his head in the direction of the aforementioned room, but you care very little about it as of now. You’d much rather take this elsewhere and get to know him better, so you don’t make the mistake of distorting him again. You’re not very keen on forcing a heathen to pray, either, however you do appreciate his willingness and attentiveness. Carry those things into your jarred heart, fold them inside its chambers, the edge pieces to the puzzle of his personality.

“Don’t worry,” you murmur, taking it one step further and hooking your arm around his. Hoseok sighs, his shyness slowly breaking apart as he clasps his hand over yours and if you could dissolve any more, now would be the perfect time for it. His hold is strong and steady—and it creates something stable within you, an orchard of fruit trees, pink and green, and bushes of berries, a safe place you want to rest in; lay down your brokenness and woes in. “You’re good. No need to apologize.”

His blush deepens at the reassurance and he smiles, softly, running his thumb over your knuckles. And the gratefulness you feel due to the fact he’s touching you, it is the rain that freshens up the apples and cherries hanging on the twigs of those trees, guiding it into full bloom. You focus on it—focus on the thick, cottony material of his dress shirt as you rub his forearm in response. You want to acknowledge yourself with the unspoken parts of him like these, remember them, allow them to heal you and crack the plaster over your heart.

And there you hear it. The crumble as Hoseok leans in and presses a chaste peck onto your cheek, lingering there for a second more, inhaling your sandalwood scent. And his smile widens as he looks down on you at such close proximity, erasing your touch-starvation once and for all. It’s your turn to blush now and you feel an inkling to shy away from his gaze, but you stifle it back. Curl your mouth in a smile—your heart thumping louder amidst the orchard now that it has more space to function in.

“No, I really want to apologize. It’s been too long since I’ve been on a date and you’re so stunning that I’ve forgotten my game, so I can’t help but to be nervous. I don’t know how to act around you,” he says, mutedly, punctuating his sentence with a breathy laugh, glimmering eyes flicking to the lining of your silky neckline just below your collarbones, tracing the miniature cherub hung up on your dainty necklace plated in gold, motionless against your dress. Your own heart grows wings and momentum in its place, fluttering in haste to move closer to him. He bores his gaze back into yours, letting it stay there. “Art isn’t really my thing, but you look like you belong here. Look like all those angels around.” He nods at your necklace. “And like that angel, too. Can I take a picture of you?”

You’re so taken aback that you don’t have time to respond. Pulling out his phone from the pocket of his dress pants, he withdraws from you and gently ushers you in the direction of the closest angel, your trenchcoat slung over his arm again, vibrating with life. He positions you how he likes—right in front of the immense sculpture, your head turned slightly to the side so the wisps of your white ribbon in your hair can be seen. His touch grounds you, tells your bloodstream, your organs that everything is okay, repeats it a little louder to your headspace—all before war could be declared with you.

Hoseok, the prince of peace.

The prince that crouches to the dirty floor so the vastness of the angel’s wings can fit in the shot. Yours, too. You think you’ve grown a pair of your own, alongside your heart, now that your shared honesty brought you closer.

You struggle to hold back your sob, to stop the corners of your mouth from rounding, your chin from quivering—all because the lightness that you sense wrapping over your heart is one you haven’t felt in a really long time. You feel taken care of, feel like you can depend on him, and while you can’t explain why you feel that way, you consider that such an immense blessing, regardless. So much that your eyes wet for the camera, but you don’t mind. Let that be captured in the memory—the mending that occurred. And let that be safe with him.

You smile and the flash goes off, which causes you to burst into giggles, your liquid softness forgotten, and run to him, your palm covering his phone camera so nobody sees his defiance. You look around to make sure no employee is in sight before you face him, cheeks warm, heart warm, wings warm, body warm. Hoseok quirks a brow, confused, gaping up at you from his position, and you take a deep breath to halt another inrush of laughter.

“You can’t take pictures with flash here. They’ll throw us out,” you whisper-shout, your giggles escaping your tightened mouth. His own forms into an ‘O’, fingers clicking on his screen, presumably turning off the automatic flash.

“I didn’t know,” he whisper-shouts back, mouth stretched in a lopsided grin. “I haven’t been here since I was a kid.” You shake your head, shoulders still shaking with the last of your giggles. He probably didn’t have a phone back then, which makes it even funnier. He inspects his settings again to make sure it’s all good before his hand finds your thigh and pushes you back. “Okay, I turned it off. Go back to the angel.”

It’s your whole body that flutters now, not just your heart, both pairs of wings unfurling, and when you retrace your steps, you still feel the heat of his touch—half on the fabric of your dress, half on your bare skin. And as you smile more naturally for the picture this time, greed kisses your core. A greed for more of his touch; on the same place as well as elsewhere.

A twinkle of where he could possibly touch you flashes before your eyes and it’s all your focal point consists of when you turn your head to your former position the way he wanted it and he praises you for it: “Good, good.”

Your muscles clench as you imagine his hand going underneath the fabric, exploring what’s hidden in there for him. The words of praise he would utter at the discovery of your private flesh. Your ears must be red. Such a twist of events you didn’t expect. A meek form of demureness creeps in, enveloping you in a feminine sensuality and you’ve missed feeling this way. Missed feeling pretty and alluring for yourself first, then for a man second. Missed being the center of your attention like this, of someone else’s as well.

You’ve always loved it. Perhaps due to the fact that you very seldom have it—so when it does come, it changes your life and you attach your being to it.

You didn’t anticipate going home with Hoseok, especially not on the first date. But because you’re being fed, you don’t really care about being proper. You want to go home with him and so you simply shall.

Can’t let the opportunity run away from you.

And so you arch your back a little bit more, look up at the angel and give her your silent thanks, your hair flowing around your form when you flick your gaze back to Hoseok to see him concentrated on the task, his smooth features gravely serious. Your stomach flips.

“Now from the back,” he instructs without lifting his eyes off of the screen of his phone. “Just like you were.”

A breath lodges in your throat, the double meaning burning the poison ivy down to ashes and you swallow it, let your stomach acid consume it until there’s nothing left of it, until all that your body carries is nothing but the lightness and the seductiveness that Hoseok gracefully gave you, the comfortable heft of the wings that grew because of him.

It’s those things that drive forth your following words with the world’s ease, unabashedly.

“You want it from the back?”

Hoseok’s mouth parts and the look he exchanges with you should chill your blood, but it doesn’t. If anything, it boils it. The heat that wafts off it pools in your core before ascending to your imaginary wings, leaving them dripping with sweat and the dew of titillation. Hoseok’s eyes narrow, shadowed by the furrow of his brows, encouraging it all the more.

There is it—the heady energy shift, permeated with the sweetest of berry juices, stemming from lust, from the orchard he planted in you. Strengthening your allure, steeling you from head to toe. You submit to it; kneel into it, notionally. Your elation raises from the dead—and you grin.

“Behave.”

A pulse in your private parts. The lengthening of your expression of delight. Your wings, your muscles clench and the same winged creatures soar to your heart from your stomach, squeezing the beating flesh. You swivel on your heels, the hem of your dress rippling, exposing more of your tender skin, the ribbon in your hair following suit.

Hoseok sucks in a breath. Your cheeks ache from the joy’s strain and it is utterly exhilarating to you.

“Yes, sir.”

Hoseok coos his approval and you can’t take it anymore. You let him take a few more pictures as you move around, dancing in your own way, running your fingers through your hair, trying to distract yourself from the throbbing between your legs, but to no avail. And when you sigh and face him head-on, Hoseok is already on his feet, walking towards you with a reappearing lopsided grin that forces the butterflies gnawing at your heart to go absolutely rampant.

You’re done for. You need to take him home. You’re not even curious about how the pictures came out—you can always look at them later.

Hoseok seems to know about your neediness because when he crosses the distance, he cups your chin. Makes you look up at him. And his smirk deepens while your heart increases in size, wings flitting at the special attention.

“Such a pretty girl,” he murmurs, caressing your skin with his thumb. Your eyes round and the heat you feel is sweltering underneath your clothes. All the more reason for him to take them off. “The pictures are great. Wanna see?”

Biting your lip, you shake your head, briefly. “What I want is to make you breakfast,” you say, mirroring his tone, hoping he gets the hint.

Hoseok waggles your chin, humming. “Oh, yeah?”

Fuck. If his scolding already didn’t make you submissive, then his response and his actions have. You wet your mouth, teeth instinctively sinking back in, and only nod. Hoseok opens your coat and covers your shoulders in its warmth, pressing the cotton twill fabric against your sternum.

“Thank you, sir.”

A fond sound pours out of him and the fact that he likes to be called by that title heightens the pulse between your legs. “Let’s go.”

He leads you towards the exit with a hand on the small of your back and you’re so happy to be touched at last that with a final look at the angels, you send out your silent love and goodbye to them, thank them one last time for the kindness you received because of them, one that you so ferociously sought after and longed for.

They seem to bow to you, happy to be of service, and you smile so profoundly that you feel as though nothing could stain your joy and mar it all over again. They wouldn’t allow that to happen—and a tendril of hope burst open within you like sunlight tearing through clouds, one that is suffused with the notion that Hoseok would stand in the way, side by side with those sculptures, too.

And he does when you swivel your head back and catch a glance of someone you know.

A piercing on the side of his brow, unchanged from the last time you saw him. Round eyes, murky. Ashen complexion that used to bloom with vibrant tints. Full, soft-toned mouth, ever so stuck in that pout, one you used to kiss until it bruised.

Your bloodstream doesn’t cease its flow. Not until you notice the person beside him.

A girl with an aura so cataclysmic that it forces you to stop dead in your tracks. An August night storm personified, obnoxiously sweet-smelling of the past summer that you spent with her companion. The hollow, funereal scent of a meadow doused in petrichor—she walks with it, her hands intertwined before her in a clasp.

You wished for him to be in Hoseok’s place so ardently that he appeared. And now that you contemplate him, the lack of distance between him and the girl, it makes you regret that you ever did.

Because, unknowingly, it drenched you in gasoline and his presence is a lighter, hers the hand that has flicked it to life and now serenely holds it against your skin, waiting until the flames, little by little, devour you whole.

And the job is finished when both of their heads whirl, meeting your livid stare.

And Jungkook, too, stops dead in his tracks.

“Do you know him?” Hoseok asks and you find it strange that you can hear him when all you can see is red.

And the red fades into the matching black shirt that Jungkook is wearing, into his bluntly pained mien; into the strands of his date’s short hair and her scrunched up brows as she regards you with a strong aversion that makes you scoff. And the same red weakens when Hoseok turns your attention to him by playing with the ends of your ribbon, grazing them before twirling them around his finger.

A breath of fresh air, he is.

You don’t know what to say. Don’t know whether to tell him the truth or come up with something that won’t devastate what you have currently going on with him. But if you lie to him, you’ll stumble into a dead end you’d much rather stay clear of. You’d see it before your eyes once you do take him home and it would ruin the newness he brought up with you, preventing it from taking root in you.

Devastation awaits you in either case. Both you and Hoseok.

Cursed, your life is. Doomed, absolutely fucking doomed.

What would the angels do in your place?

Seeking their wisdom behind you, it is not in them that you find your answer, but in the passing pair dressed in black, making their way over to the dark-wined room. He’s pretending he didn’t see you at all, walking away from you without saying a word, despite the fact you broke up on good terms.

You worshiped him in this very building almost on your knees and he dismissed you as if you meant nothing to him, caring for the feelings of his date, instead.

Peculiarly, the sentiments Hoseok installed in you, both of the passionate and the soft kind, turn that fire blue and it becomes the driving force that guides you to act without a single thought spared.

“Yeah, I do know him. Do you mind if I quickly say hi to him?”

The corner of Hoseok’s mouth curls and he caresses your hair down your back one last time. “Go, I’ll get the car ready.”

Such a confident, strong man, broken out of the confines of his former timidness. Not possessive, nor insecure—letting you do what you want. Respectful of your personal life that doesn’t include him just yet. And for that very reason it will—as soon as you’re done putting out that fire in you.

It’s not only you that has gone through a change upon this hour and it strikes your awe, enough for you to lean in and peck his cheek, just like he did to you.

Hoseok makes a sound of endearment, pivots on his feet to leave you to it, but you grab a hold of his hand. Have a need to say something to him.

His brows rise at the attention and you brush your hand across his knuckles, mimicking his previous actions, having learned them, intimately.

“Thank you, Hoseok. Really,” you say with a smile that could magnetically pull the sunlight out of its hiding place behind the clouds and bathe this bizarre room in light. You squeeze his hand.

A swirl of shyness flushes his face in rose pink and he shakes his head. “No need to thank me,” he assures, reciprocating the smile. “And call me Hobi. You can save Hoseok for later.”

Your jaw falls open and Hoseok chuckles, warmly, deepening the pulse between your legs until a wet spot adorns your panties beneath your dress, one that you look forward to showing him at the aforementioned time.

He pivots again and you watch his tall, lean figure leave. Back muscles clothed in black, straining against the fabric. He must’ve undergone his military service.

A beautiful man. You can’t wait to taste him. Taste that manliness.

Loosening a breath, you turn around to search for your ex-boyfriend. And much to your dismay, he’s appreciating the angel sculpture—the very one and only Hoseok took your pictures with. Fire licks at your every nerve ending, but then you notice that his date is nowhere in sight.

A perfect opportunity to do what you want to do.

Pulling out your phone out of your little purse, you look for his name in the history of your calls and tap on it, placing the device against your ear, your hoop earrings clashing against the screen. You watch him palm his pocket as the vibration disturbs his aesthetic pleasure and he casts a long glance at your name filling up his screen. Doesn’t comb his gaze through his surroundings. No, he seems to be transfixed by the twist of events and when he swipes his finger to accept the call, his stare begins to dig a hole into the dirty, marble floor.

Doesn’t say anything.

You scoff, fury grazing your fire. “You’re pretending not to know me? That’s low.” His pout rounds and the tip of his shoe traces the edges of the ruination he’s caused. Remains silent. “Who’s your little girlfriend? I thought you’d introduce me. Where is she, anyways?”

It’s him who scoffs now and he flicks his gaze towards the face of the angel. It’s like he’s staring right at you. “You shouldn’t be doing this, little one.”

The too familiar pet name brings agony to your heart and you would break had Hoseok not given you his strength, if the dependability of him waiting for you outside wasn’t real. And the allure and the lightness in you, perhaps the very love of the sculptures encompassing you—all of those things only vivify your solidity. You have no reason to break, you’re safe.

“Well, I think you should be a good Daddy and meet me right there in the red room,” you seethe, glad for the anger to be lingering in you, for the utterance of the title leaving you unscathed. You’re just giving him a taste of his own poison, nothing else.

Jungkook runs a hand through his hair and sighs, clenching his jaw. “Don’t call me that.”

You chuckle, enlivened by the provocation. “I can do whatever I want. Besides, you started it.”

He grits his teeth. “Not when you’re talking to me, you can’t.”

Your fire rises in overwhelming waves, your curt response ready on your tongue, but Jungkook hangs up, making you shut your mouth, instantly.

You hate him for that; hate him with the entirety of your being.

What has happened to your friendship? To the sweet, weeping Jungkook who broke up with you because he didn’t want to cause you any more pain with the state of his mental health, who has been dealing with depression for so long that he’s reached a point of no return, a lightless room with no windows, where all he saw was you, and he didn’t want you to be a victim of such unhealthy attachment. So he bid you goodbye, hugged you until you couldn’t breathe and let you go.

Three weeks ago.

You haven’t seen him or heard from him since until now. Until you’ve found someone else and moved on with your life. That’s just your luck.

And now the person you’re gazing at, it’s not the same one that wept against your chest. Yes, he might have been strict with you during intimate times, teased you with his fatherliness during the day even—but that invariably was imbued with the mellowness of love.

Try as you may while his words ring in your headspace, you cannot unearth any trace of that same mellowness in it. Only bitterness, coldness and a profound darkness.

Jungkook pockets his phone and, leaving both of his hands there, sunk deeply, he walks over to the wine-tinged room, his frown obscuring the place in gloom. Murky clouds, personified. A perfect match to the storm of his companion. Bile lodges inside your throat.

You follow after him, your feet aching terribly in your boots, but it serves as some kind of alleviation to the tautness of your emotions, of your confusion, disgust and offence. Makes you feel better—because once you see Jungkook ogling a certain painting of a woman beaming at him softly, dressed in flowers, blues and greens as the redness akin to your fire burns in her background, the agony tries to slither its way inside your heart, but fails.

You’re a locked orchard.

Jungkook senses your presence and he swivels, biting the inside of his cheek, pierced brow quirking. There’s a strain to his shoulders and his Adam’s apple bobbles as he takes in your appearance. The creaminess of your short, silky dress, the darker shade of the same color of your trenchcoat slung loosely over your shoulders, exposing your brown, leather, high-heeled boots, your matching purse clutched in both of your hands as you strut towards him. Calm, all of a sudden. It does nothing to you, nothing whatsoever—your heart momentarily attached to Hoseok.

“I thought you’d already left,” he murmurs, tipping up his chin. Begins to sway back and forth on the balls of his feet, the carmine hues of the room swathing him in a deeper shade of darkness. “Isn’t your boyfriend waiting for you?”

You don’t bother to correct him. It’s none of his business who Hobi is to you, not when he treated you like a stranger.

“We were about to leave, but then I saw your actions,” you say, quite monotonously, your calmness as disturbing as it is triumphant. You yourself even wonder at it. “What the fuck was that?”

A smirk. “Glad to know I still have some kind of effect on you.”

You scrunch up your brows, distaste once again pooling in your mouth. “Trust me, I would’ve done this with anyone I know. You’re not special.”

His smirk widens. “So, you’re not jealous?” He rubs the side of his jaw, staring at you, intently, and disgust comes over you like a splash of a wave, soaking you in cold sweat.

He did it for that very reason—to make you jealous. Walked right past you, just to get a rise out of you. As much as you loved him half an hour ago, that affection turns into dust within you, sprinkling the fruit trees and the berry brushes with its gray smithereens, poisoning them.

Ouroboros, all over again. Full circle. Anger covers your disgust.

A voice echoes within the room. Airy and light, as feminine as it is otherworldly, and you know, without a doubt, who it belongs to. It doesn’t suit her, not in the slightest.

“There you are,” your ex-boyfriend’s companion trails off, the clapping of her flat shoes halting. “Who are you?”

You only turn your head to the side, signaling to her that you’ve heard her question, because you fix your stare back at Jungkook as you answer it. “It’s not something you should trouble yourself with. Can you give us a minute?”

You don’t hear any movement, so she must be stubbornly staying where she is. All right, she can join the conversation for all you care.

When you turn your head back around, you catch stars oozing from Jungkook’s eyes, a conveyance of adornment painting his face in gentle colors that could never be associated with this room. There it is, the face you know, so resplendent of the one you last saw. And it grazes your anger, whispers to it that it was a mistake, a game of pretense, because you’re reverently acknowledged with his soul—you know who he is. While it may explain his fucked-up behavior, you don’t soften. Not at the hint of familiarity. Not even at the hushed hint of your deduction telling you that the reason why he unmasked himself was because you chose him and didn’t run away when his companion spoiled your short time together.

You don’t soften because you simply don’t want to.

You don’t want to give in to any means of getting close to him.

The chapter is finished. You shouldn’t have called him. You should’ve left with Hobi.

You don’t wish to keep him waiting long, nor do you wish to keep sprawling in your mistake. You pivot, ready to leave, but Jungkook captures your hand. Desirousness palpitates in his eyes as if he, too, needed to tell you something of urgency.

You’ll hear him out, but that’s the end of it.

“Can I see you later?” he asks, pupils growing in size until they absorb his chocolate irises, his grip over your hand tight and heated. A wind blows in your orchard, sweeping away all the darkened smithereens left by the bane, freshening you up.

You don’t really think that’s a good idea.

“I won’t have time for you later, I’ll be with Hoseok.”

To Hobi, you won’t lie, but the same can’t be applied to Jungkook.

His breath hitches in his throat, disappointment weighing him down, the thought of you being intimate with someone who is not him causing his posture to slouch even more.

But he surprises you with the words he says next.

“I’ll wait, then. Let me know when you’re alone.”

And you surprise yourself even more when you nod, turning on your heel and scurrying off to meet Hobi outside.

𓂃 ౨ৎ LOVE-KISSED BABIES: @tkslovechild, @jjk7k, @parkinglot-nights, @bethvar, @Sexytholland, @yoongibaybee, @crystaleah.

BACK to masterlist

287 notes · View notes

cutielando · 4 months

Text

we can’t be friends, part 2 | l.n.

synopsis: in which Lando is conflicted

part 1

my masterlist

Lando had never before considered himself a “lucky” man. He was always of the belief that things just kind of…happened.

But when he saw you in the paddock on that one particular day, after months of being away from you and only watching you from afar, he thanked his lucky stars.

That was part of the reason why he couldn’t resist coming up to you, introducing himself with only one thought in mind: I need to get her back.

You hadn’t known why the feeling of his hand in yours felt familiar when you shook his hand, why the tone of his voice made tingles arise on your delicate skin, or why his smile and dimple seemed like something you had seen before, seemingly in another life.

Something in your gut was telling you that you had met him sometime before, but you just couldn’t figure out where you knew him from.

Which Lando was grateful for.

He had realized he hadn’t been a good boyfriend to you before, he could see his mistakes and what he should improve now. He knew what he had to do.

After the fateful meeting in the paddock, you started bumping into him more and more.

At the grocery store in Monaco, at the museum where you were strolling with your sister, at the hair salon, at the nail salon, he seemed to be everywhere.

You didn’t think anything about it at first, telling yourself that Monaco was a very small place and coincidences were bound to happen.

But you gradually began to feel like it was not the case, and you settled for confronting him to get to the bottom of the problem.

“You’re following me” you had caught him yet again, seemingly trailing around the flower shop where you usually spend your mornings.

Lando’s eyes widened, his mouth opening and closing before he settled for shaking his head.

“Bumping into me once or twice is a normal coincidence, but you’re everywhere I go. I turn around and you’re there, like a ghost. Can you please tell me what’s going on? You’re starting to creep me out” you said, making sure to keep your distance from him.

Lando’s heart began hammering in his chest, panic quickly settling in his body.

This was not how it was supposed to go down. You were meant to find it cute, endearing even, but he couldn’t have you thinking that he was a weirdo, not when he was desperately trying to make you fall in love with him once again.

How was he supposed to win you back if you thought he was a total creep?

“I’m not trying to be creepy, I promise. I just didn’t know how to approach you without being awkward” he tried to explain, realizing he sounded even more like a creep.

You cocked an eyebrow. “And you figured following me around was the solution?” you had to admit that seeing him flustered and trying to explain himself was becoming funny to you, any trace of annoyance long gone.

You couldn’t describe the feelings you had whenever you were around Lando. There was a foreign sense of familiarity every time you would talk to him and whenever you would be near him. Like your body was already used to being around him.

“No, no. God, this is so not how I wanted this to go down” he murmured the last part to himself, but you heard him nonetheless.

“Look, as much as I might find this stalking of yours kinda cute in some twisted way, what’s really going on here?” you asked, crossing your arms one on top of the other.

He sighed, hanging his head low. Should he just be honest about why he was following you? Tell you about everything you had done so much just to forget? Should he just lie and truly start from scratch?

There were so many questions clouding his judgment, dozens of ideas and excuses floating around in his brain.

But in the end, he decided that wiping the slate clean was his best bet. You would never agree to go out with him if he even mentioned how your previous relationship had ended, that he had hurt you so much that you chose to completely forget everything about him and your relationship.

He didn’t want to risk a new beginning by plaguing it with events from the past.

“Okay. Truth is, I really like you, and I wanted to ask you out but couldn’t seem to find the words to do it. You’re gorgeous and kind and nice and I didn’t think you would want to go out with me, given what the internet has been saying about me” he confessed, scratching the back of his head in fear of what your reaction would be.

Once upon a time, he could read you like the back of his hand, knowing your every little tic and every tell. He knew every single thing there was to know about you, but as you stood there in front of him, he felt like he didn’t know you.

Even while you smiled at him with that same smile he had come to love over time, you were not the person he had left behind. You were someone else entirely, only the memory of you hiding behind your eyes. But was it wrong that it intrigued him? That it made him want to get to know you again so badly?

Maybe. But he didn’t want to resist it any longer.

Finally looking up at your eyes, his heart skipped a beat when he noticed the smile he loved vibrantly shining on your face, a sense of familiarity filling his chest.

“I don’t care what the internet says about you, I want to get to know the real you. People can have their opinions of you, I want to have my own” you said, stepping closer to him.

Lando felt like he couldn’t breathe. Having you so close to him after so much time apart made him want to lose his composure and just kiss the life out of you, but he couldn’t.

No, he wanted to do it right. He couldn’t afford to mess it up again.

“What are you saying?” he asked, wanting to make sure he wouldn’t misinterpret anything.

“I’m saying that you should give me your number” you said, trying to suppress the smile that was inching towards your lips.

You didn’t know why you were acting like this. Accepting to go on a date with a guy that basically followed you around, asking him for his number? You were never that irresponsible when it came to dating, so why was he so different right now?

You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but there was something deep within you which was screaming at you to trust him. There was that sense of comfort that you felt whenever you were around him ever since the two of you bumped into each other, but you didn’t know where it was coming from. How could you feel so at ease with someone you had just met?

It was weird, definitely worrisome if you were being truthful with yourself. But then again, what harm could it do?

Lando had never taken out his phone as fast as he did in that moment, almost dropping it in the process, which made you laugh a little.

Seeing him so flustered made him blush, almost embarrassed that he couldn’t keep his act together.

He gave you the phone in the end, and you put in your number and the name y/n💕, giving him the phone back and leaving, kissing his cheek as you passed by him.

Lando felt like he was dreaming as he felt your lips touch his skin, however briefly the contact had been. And unbeknownst to you, you were biting your lip and blushing as you walked away from him, eagerly waiting to get a text from him.

And thankfully, it was merely an hour later when your phone dinged, and the butterflies started acting up once again.

♡♡♡♡♡

The moment of your first date with Lando had arrived after texting back and forth for a couple of days, and it was safe to say that the both of you were freaking out.

You, on one hand, were freaking out because it felt like you hadn’t been this excited about going on a date in forever. Lando, on the other hand, was freaking out over wanting to make sure he didn’t screw things up the second time around.

The nerves that he felt as he waited in front of your apartment building were nothing like he ever felt before. He hadn’t even been this nervous when you two went out the first time all those years back. But as he stood there, flowers in hand and yet another gift in his pocket, he couldn’t stop fidgeting.

That was until you finally appeared, dressed in his favorite dress of yours, sandals and curly hair, smiling from ear to ear when you saw him waiting for you.

“Sorry I’m late, couldn’t decide what to wear. Have you been waiting long?

Lando’s brain froze for a split second. Had he been waiting there so long that he didn’t even notice you had been late? Taking a quick peek at the watch resting on his left wrist, he realized he had been standing in front of your building for more than 20 minutes.

“Um, no. Just got here like 5 minutes ago” he lied, content when he saw the relieved smile you gave him. “These are for you” he said, holding out the flowers towards you.

You took the bouquet from him, blushing once you noticed that he had bought you your favorite flowers.

“How did you know these are my favorites?” you asked, bringing the flowers up to your nose and inhaling the sweet aroma.

He shrugged, and left it at that. He couldn’t really tell you how he knew they were your favorite, so he figured he shouldn’t say anything else.

The night went by beautifully, the conversation flowing as if you had known each other your whole lives. The laughter you shared was natural, you felt so at ease while talking to him.

As the end of the night grew closer, you were walking hand-in-hand through the quiet streets of Monaco, a comfortable silence between the two of you. You had never felt at ease with anyone else in your entire life, yet here you were, feeling more at home with Lando than any other person in your life besides your family.

“Thank you for tonight” you said, smiling sadly once you arrived in front of your building.

Lando smiled, stepping closer to you.

“It was my pleasure” he whispered, the distance between the two of you almost non-existent.

He looked you in the eyes as if he was asking for permission, and the second you nodded he leaned in and kissed you with everything that he had, making your knees go weak and almost buckle.

You quickly wrapped your arms around his neck and started playing with the hair at the back of his head, almost accidentally letting out a moan at how good his lips felt on yours. Every inch of your body was on fire, your senses tingling as you got lost in the feeling of Lando.

Lando, on the other hand, felt a mixture of emotions. Even though he had been waiting for this moment for so many months, he felt guilty. There he was, using the fact that you had no memory of your past relationship to win you back. Was he being selfish?

Should he tell you the truth about the past?

comments and re-blogs help us grow!

much appreciated!!

REQUEST HERE

328 notes · View notes

stuckytoyoulikeglue · 1 year

Text

Random thought, bit of a reach, could interpret it platonically, I chose not to:

According to Sebastian Stan, Bucky's backpack in Civil War contains his notebooks of memories, so I think we can reasonably assume that they're all carefully tucked away in there, ready to be grabbed at a moment's notice...

Well, all except for the one Steve finds on top of the fridge.

Only, it's been two years since the helicarriers, and that notebook is in pretty good condition, so either it's fairly new or it's hardly ever touched. Given the fact that it's out, rather than safely hidden away with the others, it makes it far more likely that it's new, probably the one that he's currently writing in, but then... How did the flyer (from what I'm 99% sure is the Smithsonian's Cap exhibit, given that we know Bucky went to see it and he even refers to it later in the scene) end up in there?

Either Bucky only recently picked it up (unlikely, since he's presumably been in Romania, or at the very least, far away from the US, for some time) or he's moved it from notebook to notebook as he fills each one, probably looking at it almost every day, since he's bookmarked the fucking page... And yet he's able to look Steve in the eye and tell him, while Steve is holding a lovingly preserved two year old picture of his own damn face, that he 'read about him in a museum' and 'didn't know' why he pulled him from the river.

I mean, the audacity!

Even if he still hasn't worked out exactly what Steve is to him, he clearly knows that he's someone important and not just because of the things he read in the museum. Because they don't explain the way his chest feels when he looks at the picture. Or why he feels the need to keep looking at the picture. Why he's moved it from notebook to notebook for two whole years. Why he's bookmarked the page, even though the flyer is slightly too big and pokes out the bottom anyway, so it essentially bookmarks itself...

But sure, Buck, you haven't got a clue why you went against everything you thought you knew and saved your boyfriend's life.

Sure.

#bucky barnes #steve rogers #captain america #winter soldier #stucky #in this essay i will

776 notes · View notes

coffee-seedy · 7 months

Text

Valentine's day

Genshin

Day 2: Dan Heng, Gepard, Jingyuan

a/n: istg seedy school is crazy for expelling her just because she's always sick, so im off tumblr for over one week to take care her problem. (Genshin valentine part 2 will be come soon-)

Dan heng

this man is too busy with his book to notice you, even though he is actually currently thinking about a valentine's gift for you. when he was in xianzhou luofu later he would go to scalegorge waterscape to look for something there, the last time he was there after fighting phantylia, he found a beautiful stone that could be used to make rings or necklaces.

so in the end he will go to xianzhou luofu again to pick up the stone, even though he doesn't want to set his foot down there he is forced to do it for you, and only you of course. while on the other hand, you trying to get his attention and are confused because this man has been daydreaming for a long time, what is he even thinking?

valentine's day was approaching and dan heng still hadn't found the stone he was looking for, despair overwhelmed him before finally finding the stone near one of vidyahara's eggs, it's not near but its a bit under the eggs. he had to be careful not to crack the egg or worse, break it and become a sunny side up egg.

slowly but surely he was able to remove the stone safely without the eggs breaking. finally, he took the stone back to the astral express so he could finally shape it into a ring, was he going to propose to you? still not sure, what is clear is that he wants this gift to be the most valuable of all, in other word yes he wants to propose to you.

because he can't make a ring, he commissions someone to do it for him and will pay a lot of credit, the person who made the ring for dan heng agreed and started giving a lot of examples of what the ring will look like. dan heng chose the shape for a long time and finally found the right shape that suits you, the person understood and started working on the project.

day after day passed until valentine finally came, dan heng had gotten the ring and didn't forget to put it in a safe place. while you were wrapping a book you found in belobog and also xianzhou luofu for dan heng. the two of you promised to meet at aurum alley in the afternoon, when you got together you immediately spent time walking around and eating. until finally at the end of the date, dan heng suddenly stopped in his tracks and started looking at you, you who saw him suddenly stop out of nowhere confused about what was happening.

slowly he began to kneel and took out the ring box… “[Name] you are the most precious person in my life, I am kneeling here wanting to ask you something… will you marry me?” you immediately fell silent, not knowing what to answer, tears slowly started to flow from your eyes, making dan heng panic and start to stand up to wipe your tears.

he might not get your answer yet, but he knows what your answer is…

Gepard Landau

captain of silvermane guards and noble from landau family, how lucky of you can get his heart. you and gepard have been dating for a long time, or more precisely three years, but your relationship is very special, even though he is always busy with work, of course he makes time to celebrate valentine's day with you.

this year is like the previous year, but what's different is that gepard is confused about what to buy you, even though you always say it doesn't need to be extravagant, he still insists on giving you the best.

he went to Serval to ask for suggestions for your valentine gift, “oh you gepard, buy them a plushie and a novel. try it, it will work!” he was a bit hesitant and suspicious... but this was his sister, of course her advice was always good, so he did it even though he didn't know what plushies and novels you liked.

when valentine's day arrived, the two of you made an appointment to meet in front of the belobog museum building in the afternoon. so you take the time to get ready and also decorate the valentine's chocolate that you made, when you arrive in front of the Belobog Museum, you don't find Gepard anywhere, maybe he's on his way here.

and of course you were right, you saw him running towards you in his formal clothes and not his silvermane guard armor. it's very strange to see him dressed formally at a simple date like this, but this is what you like about him. he looks out of breath from running out of nowhere so you give him time to normalize his breathing.

when his breathing was stabilise, you first sat near the museum fountain, there you took out chocolate from your bag and gave it to him. "Happy Valentine's Day Gepard," you said to the man and handed him the chocolate, gepard was only silent for a moment before accepting the chocolate from you. when it was gepard's turn to give the gift, he realized... he had left his gift at home.

wow gepard, you are embarrassing yourself in front of your future wife.

Jing Yuan (ft. Yanqing)

The dozing general always has a trick up his sleeve they say, as his wife the facts are true. you don't know what your husband has planned or surprises he makes for Valentine's every year, but that's what you like about your husband in general.

today is valentine's day, and your husband chose to take a day off just for yourself, and yanqing out of nowhere took a day off too... how strange. they both never take a day off on the same day, but you don't care and still spend your time with your little family. the only strange thing is that yanqing is a bit clingier than usual but you don't really mind.

at afternoon, yanqing invites you to go out for a walk, of course, as a good mother to him, you agree without thinking twice. you didn't forget to tell jing yuan that you and yanqing would be out until evening and he just agreed, usually he would grab your waist and tell you to stay.

You didn't really care and left. about walking until eight in the evening, because Yanqing pulled you to the food stalls in Aurum Alley and also to the sword shop. All these activities drain a lot of your energy, so when you two get home, yanqing immediately falls asleep leaving you in the kitchen to store the food you brought. when on the way to your bedroom you see lots of rose petals on the floor leading to your room, when you open the door to your room you find your husband sitting on the bed with only his bathrobe, and what's worse, the top part is wide open shows quite a tempting sight for anyone who sees it.

oh, so this is what the dozing general is planning.

a/n: this should be come out last week, but ye-

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #jing yuan x reader #dan heng x reader #gepard x reader #hsr x you #hsr x reader #female reader #jing yuan #dan heng #gepard landau #honkai star rail x you

241 notes · View notes

am-i-the-asshole-official · 7 months

Note

Am I the Asshole for taking my SIL to an anime convention?

My (42M) SIL (29F) has autism and was living with my MIL until she suddenly passed away from heart failure back in 2022. My wife (40F) and I both knew SIL likes to cosplay and go to conventions. Figuring that’s something she and MIL did together, I decided to tell her I want to take her to an anime convention the following year. We chose one that worked out for all of us, timeline wise, along with the costs of transportation, hotel, etc.

Now, this may be a controversial opinion, but I hate anime; nearly all of it is hypersexualized (aside from one, which I’ll get into in a moment). It makes me cringe that my oldest daughter (13F) loves anime, and that that’s all she ever wants to watch. Personally, I feel she’s getting too old for cartoons, but since I also have two younger children, I let it slide.

Prior to actually leaving for con, SIL had sent emails of videos and blogs all about attending anime conventions. Clearly eager to prepare us. She also had outbursts over all sorts of things and lashed out at us on multiple occasions; her emails were often filled with negativity, and simmering rage. In between all of this, we had her relocate to an apartment closer to us.

Anyway, SIL, my daughter, and I go to the airport, we get to the hotel and check-in. We explored the city for a few hours. Now, before all of this, SIL claims she has a “low heat tolerance”, and complained the entire time whenever we walked from Point A to Point B; yes, the city the con was at has good transit and yes I insisted we walk anyway. It’s good exercise! This led to her throwing a fit when we reached a museum I really wanted to check out. We took an Uber back to the hotel and I don’t hear from her again until the next day when we met up to have lunch.

She’s cosplaying a character I don’t recognize and doesn’t tell me anything about them when I asked; it was clearly supposed to be a boy character, though.

Next day, I got a text from SIL; she unexpectedly got her period. Great. Since she asked, I run and get her some pads, only to have to wait an hour in line. Also great. She’s cosplaying another character I don’t recognize. Some magical creature or a doll of some kind. Anyway, us three go into one of the viewing rooms to screen this anime SIL was insistent on showing us. Some Sherlock thing. My daughter likes it, and I’ll admit, I enjoyed it too; I think it is very kid friendly.

Last day, once again, I don’t see or hear from SIL until we meet up in the hotel lobby waiting for our ride to the airport. Seems she had a good time though. She was dressed as one of the kids from that hero anime my daughter likes. She also bought my daughter an axolotl plush (her favorite animal). Going through security was hell; SIL had the nerve to have an attitude the whole time (again later claiming she was overheated and cranky from her period). After we got home she claimed she was never traveling anywhere with me again.

In the days following, she returned the luggage my wife had leant her, having booby trapped it with a photo with the glass broken. Then informs me that her account was overdrawn (I would have gladly paid for more than I did, if she hadn’t been so bitchy).

When we went to her apartment to discuss this, she made the same claims: that she was tired and cranky from the heat, made worse from her period, that I was stressing her out half the time, but that she was grateful despite that because when her mom died, anime conventions were the first thing she was ready to give up.

She also claimed the photo she broke was taken the same year she first attempted to take her own life, and that triggered a panic attack on top of the meltdown she had after returning home.

And the kicker: apparently her mother barely spent any time at conventions, and only sometimes tagged along because she “wanted a vacation”.

Now she claims that I -I repeat I- ruined that Sherlock anime for her. And now is planning to attend a few more cons…Alone.

So what say you? Am I the Asshole?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole #suicide cw

245 notes · View notes

pascalcampion · 1 year

Text

Auguste Renoir

1841-1919

I’d be curious to ask Renoir if he thought he mastered what he did. I love his work.yet, I see unresolved areas in his paintings. Some paintings are tighter, others are looser. art books would say he chose to paint this way. I believed that. I believed that artist needed to be kung fu masters of the brush, that they had a ten step plan for every dab. But now I realize Renoir, Monet, Degas, all of them were much more like any of us. They tried, they experimented. They flubbed their eyes and redid them. They worked fast to stop them from overthinking. They were impatient at times . They wandered and lost themselves and came back. Like a lot of us, they were passionate about their explorations. They were probably proud of some of their work and disdainful of others. And these also hang in museums. Renoir, out of all the Impressionists, holds a special place in my life. I was a kid then and interested in comics. My step Dad, Guy ( another great unsung hero I should make a post about) suggested I look at classic paintings, work on drawing crowds. That’s life he would say. Pointing at this weird drawing of a bunch of people hanging around, dancing. I remember looking at this painting with my ten year old eyes and mind and noticing the complete absence of muscles, capes, drama and word balloons. I instantly classified it as poorly drawn art.

I'm older, slower now but wiser. Looking back, I see richness reached through effort. An effort Renoir wasn’t always capable of doing.

I am not even sure he knew where he was going before he got there and eventually, wasn’t able to make that journey.

He turned toward the nudes he would do toward the later part of his life, but the curious, deliberate energy powering his use of color, tangraming them into fields of flowers, boaters on an island or dappled lit ladies was gone.

I like thinking of Renoir this way because I understand the master we see only appeared in moments. Every one of us is a Renoir in a way. We work with abandon hoping to get somewhere.

When we do, we are proud but not happy because our happiness comes from the doing, not the result.

#AugusteRenoir

AugusteRenoir

469 notes · View notes

thriftedtchotchkes · 1 year

Text

one more cup of coffee

pairing: joel miller x reader

word count: 850

a/n: pure, falling in love fluff based on the 8bitfiction quote "your color is everywhere"

You never noticed it before today, but now it’s everywhere. It’s in the coffee he drinks in the mornings, sewn into his fall jacket and winter coat, and stained onto his guitars and wood carvings. You can even see its richness in his hair and eyes.

The color brown is everywhere. It’s his color. You’re constantly surrounded by him whether he’s with you or not, and the thought is so comforting.

Joel doesn’t have a favorite color—you’ve asked him before and the answer is always the same—but if he did, you think it would be brown. It has the potential to be so many things: warm and deep, yet dark, and so full of life. Just like him.

They say when you fall in love, it’s something you just know in your heart is true, but they never say when you know. If it’s sudden or something that builds over time until you can’t ignore it anymore.

Maybe it’s different for everyone, but you’re discovering that it’s possible to wake up on an unassuming Monday and realize how much you love the color brown. And the man it reminds you of.

You always thought it would be some big revelation that changes everything, but here you are sitting at the kitchen table, sipping your coffee out of Joel’s favorite owl mug, feeling exactly the same. It’s how every morning goes and how they’ve gone every day for years. It’s your routine.

You hear floorboards creaking above you, and then there he is: right on cue. Walking down your brown, carpeted stairs in his brown suede coat, looking at you sleepily with the fondest look in his brown eyes. You watch him over the rim of his mug and he chuckles, shaking his head as he makes his way into the kitchen.

“There’s about a dozen mugs in this house and that’s the one ya chose, huh?” he says, voice still thick with sleep, as if that’s anything new. Your next sip is an extra loud slurp, and you let out a satisfied haah for good measure.

“I dunno what to tell you. Coffee just tastes better out of this one,” you shrug, and he rolls his eyes good-naturedly, opening the cabinet to find something else to drink out of. “You drink yours too fast, anyway. It’d be wasted on you.”

Scoffing, he picks one with the phases of the moon printed on it that you’re pretty sure he found in a museum nearby. It’s Ellie’s favorite, but you both know she never eats breakfast and hates coffee, so he can get away with using it.

“Not my fault I got places to be,” he looks at you pointedly. The moka pot on the stove starts to boil, and he waits for it to fill up before pouring himself a cup and sitting at the table across from you. “Still don’t know why ya got up so damn early when your shift doesn’t start for another two hours.”

“Maybe I just like seeing you off in the morning. Ever thought of that?” He eyes you skeptically. You lean forward in your chair, resting your arms on the table with a grin. “Or maybe I just wanted the mug.”

Obviously, it’s not just the mug and Joel’s well aware of that. You can tell by the way he’s looking at you right now with adoration and a hint of wonder in his eyes. It must be mirrored in your own, and now you’re wondering if he notices anything different about you today. If he realizes what you suddenly woke up knowing with absolute clarity.

“Well, you’re gettin’ both this mornin’. Lucky you,” he says, giving you a small smile. And he’s right, you are so, so lucky.

“Yeah, lucky me,” you nod, disappointment blooming in your chest as he takes the final sip of his coffee and gets up to put his cup in the sink. He returns to where you’re sitting to press a soft kiss against your forehead.

“Gotta go, sweetheart. I’ll see ya for dinner,” he murmurs into your hair before turning to leave. You reach out to grab the sleeve of his coat before he can get too far.

“Hey,” you start, heart beating a little faster in your chest, and he looks down at you curiously. You know you’ll see him again later, but you need him to hear it before he goes. It’s not that you’re expecting him to say it back or suddenly feel the same way you do, but you just…you want him to know.

“You know I love you, right?”

His gaze softens and, this time, he leans down to kiss your lips. You close your eyes and sigh into him, tasting coffee and toothpaste as his tongue brushes fleetingly against yours, and when you open them, all you can see is brown.

He pulls away just enough to rest his forehead on yours, those warm brown eyes looking at you as if for the first time and, yet, the same way they always have.

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #joel miller #joel miller fluff

640 notes · View notes

just-a-ghost00 · 2 months

Text

💌Someone wants to reach out!

Trigger warning : this reading mentions the passing of beings and other sensitive subjects. It is way heavier than I intended and I want to make sure that you know what you get yourself into. If you are underage, refrain from reading this post. If you know that you are sensitive to such subjects, refrain from reading as well, as a security measure.

As this is going to be a very detailed reading, I only put two options to choose from. To help you identify if you picked the right group, I will use some letters to try to get keywords as confirmation signs. In this reading, we are first going to try to identify who is trying to reach out to you. Then, we will find out what they wish to say to you. At the end of your reading, you will get a short advice from your guides. For this PAC I will be using letters, the White Numen tarot and the Threads of fate oracle, as well as some self made tissue box messages.

Group 1

Note from reader : As I was doing the last adjustments of your reading, I looked up at the sky through my window and looked at the clouds. That might be something the person we're talking about used to do a lot. In the shape of the clouds I saw many N and a few A. Those might be significant initials.

Letters : M F T I U A S N E M R S C V U Keywords : Mass, rain, Insta, star, rats, Cain, museum, amuse, Muse, cinema, mics, revue (French for magazine), fame, Reita, Sumire, saint, Cirus, Marcus, Mars, trains, Venus, arts, man, versus, Mantis, fumer (French for smoking), fast, cars, music, rants, Francis, frantic, France, matsuri (Japanese for festival), mister fun, musc, sister, fan, Ventura, Messi, faint, vain, veins, Traum (German for dream), stairs, Uranus, Saturn, Vermin, races, fire, Aries, Uranium, Taurus

Who is trying to reach out?

Okay I know this is going to sound crazy but I picked up on Moonbin. I can't explain why as I didn't know him very well. But I thought of him as soon as I wrote that channeled message you are gonna read in the next section. Aside from that, I can definitely tell that whoever is trying to reach out to you has passed on. This person was full of life and ideas, there were many things they wanted to say and do but they didn't get the chance to give life to all their dreams. They were young. Very young. This person wanted to fight the darkness and be a ray of hope in a world of doom. They had great ambitions and though they were battling their own demons, they truly believed in good and wanted to be good. They believed that they could weave their destiny as they wanted and that they could change the world if they tried real hard. They wanted to leave a positive impact around them. Heal the world. I'm also picking up on Michael Jackson energy. Maybe you or this person was a Michael Jackson fan. They may have been misunderstood by people around them when they were living. Maybe they were made fun of as a child because of their peculiar personality and talents. Maybe this person saw or did things that people didn't believe in or were afraid of. They were the first in their family to be like that. Maybe they were the first to be queer or the first that had a special talent that was deemed out of the ordinary. Could have been an artistic talent but also something related to the unseen. Maybe they could sense ghosts or they had downloads about specific events. They could have been the first to break from the family patterns and traditions. Like maybe in this person's family people were carpenters or automobile constructors from father to son and they chose to be an artist instead. I'm drawn to the snake on the Weaver card. Maybe snakes were important to this person. Like it is a symbol that represents them or this could be their chinese zodiac sign. Years of the snake are 1905, 1917, 1929, 1941, 1953, 1965, 1977, 1989, 2001 or 2013 and the next one will be 2025. But more than zodiac, I feel like they related to snakes in the sense that these animals are often feared and viewed as negative when they are neither good nor bad. They hold the potential for both and will only be "bad" if you threaten them. The reason I got drawn to the snake is because I know of an artist that passed on whose clothing brand logo was a snake. If any of you are familiar with The GazettE, I'm talking about Reita and his brand SNAKEDLOWS. Especially the one with the Ouroboros that was used in 2022. If you don't resonate with any of these artists, this could have been a family member, whether you knew them during their lifetime or not.

What they want to say to you :

"Dear love, I cannot stress enough how much I love you. You lit up my life in so many ways. I can never thank you enough for the support and love you have given me over the years. I owe so much to you. I was able to live a good life because of you. Please allow me to return the favor by being your n° 1 fan from now on <3 Fighting!"

Complementary info - The wildling, take risk, the pillar, connect to heart, The Void, 7 of pentacles, 7 of swords, page of cups rx, 3 of wands rx, King of pentacles

They are trapped in a state of limbo and they want to connect with you to be free. But they also want to help you set yourself free from patterns and obligations that you don't resonate with anymore. You are lying to yourself about the state you are in. You keep working and working without taking into account how you feel. Your life has become more of a routine and less of an adventure. You closed your heart to favor your mind. It's like you no longer marvel at life and try to run from your truth. They want to connect with you because they don't want you to do the same mistakes as them and ignore the signs that you are not okay. They want to help you ground yourself into an environment and a state of being that is healthy. Behind the Void hides Get curious. Behind the king of pentacles hides the knight of cups. They want you to be curious about love again. To open your heart again. To fight for your happiness because they don't want you to know the same fate as them. It's like they're saying "there are things I wish I knew sooner because if I'd known them maybe I wouldn't have had as hard of a time as I did". "If I'd known, I'd have told people how I felt. Maybe I would have been saved from my own sorrow. I don't want you to drown in your feelings like I did". There's a theme of mental health issues, suicidal tendencies and/or abuse from close circle like family members, friends. It's like this person in their life time chose to prioritize their job and the well being of others to the detriment of their own health and emotional security. They withheld information, pretended that they were fine when they were not. They hid behind their success and their career and most likely worked themselves until it was too much for them to handle.

Advice from your guides - 3 of swords, the world, The Pillar, Ask Body

Don't isolate yourself and remain in your anger or sadness. Speak up to somebody, reach out, open your heart to the world. There are other people who share your pain and doubts, who will be able to relate to what you go through and help you on your journey. Strengthen your body but also pay attention to the signs it is sending you. If you feel unusual pain, pay attention to it. Your third eye is opening. You are becoming more sensitive to spirit and other's emotions. So make sure you build strong enough walls to protect yourself from spiritual attacks. Ask your guides for help if you feel like you can't rely on anyone. Spend time in contemplation and prayer. The spirit of the cheetah is here to remind you that it's important to save your energy and only spend it for what matters. You need to find your center back instead of dispersing your energy in many projects at a time. "It is not unusual for the Cheetah Spirit Animal to come as a guide and support for people who have intense feelings. If you are empathetic, Cheetah reminds you it’s okay and healthy to cry. It releases all the excess input bumping around in your aura while cleansing and decreasing stress. Pause for a moment. Cry and then give yourself something wonderful afterward." You are asked to slow down and take time to let your emotions be expressed instead of repressing them. [Source : what is my spiritanimal]

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Group 2

Letters : D R A A E T U E E O O Q A U E Keywords : tour, route, area, Qatar, road, dare, tear, deer, dear, rate, root, tora (Japanese for tiger), rat, door, eau (French for water)

Who is trying to reach out?

I get two possibilities for this group. Some of you could have a passed on ancestor / parent trying to contact you. For others, this person is living but you are not in contact with them at the moment. In both cases, I get this feeling of communication being blocked. It's as if you refuse to be in contact with them or you delay the moments when you are in contact with them. No matter the situation, you are taking refuge in your work as a way to avoid them. This person could be a soulmate and/or someone from your childhood. I get the feeling of a dynamic between someone that is quite old and someone that is quite young. Like a clash of generations. This is just one example between many but think of a parent and their child or a mentor and their protégé. This person could have had a higher status than yours. Aside from the careers mentioned by the tissue box messages I also sense law enforcement, military, politics. Positions of authority in general. It's like you've created a bubble around you and you stay in that bubble. No matter how hard this person is trying to reach out, their attempts are cut short by the distance between you. It's like you voluntarily keep them at bay. I feel a lot of sadness and worry coming from them. It feels like they're afraid that they can't help you. They can sense that something is troubling you and they wish to help you in any way they can but you refuse their help. They feel lonely and left out. It saddens them to see that you don't seem to trust them as much as you used to. They understand and recognize your need for space and independance, your passion and goals, your personal legend. But they also wish that you would let them be a part of it, let them in into your world and give them the opportunity to contribute to it even just a little. More than anything they want to reconnect with you and go back to lighter and innocent moments, where you share memories and try to build a future together. This doesn't have to be a romantic thing. Actually I feel more of a parental vibe than a romantic one. But of course it's going to vary depending on people so for some it could be a romantic partner that is/was very protective of you and kind of acted as a parental figure.

What they want to say to you :

"My child, you need not to cry. Our fate isn't one to worry about. I cry for all of you who are here on Earth, who do not know the taste of true love. I cry for my brothers and sisters who still have to fight the same battles, though I've fought them before. I wish I could heal the world. I wish I could heal you too. <3"

Complementary info - Underworld, Seeker rx, Paradox, The Revolutionary, knight of pentacles, 3 of pentacles, knight of pentacles, Judgement

They wish that instead of giving a lot of attention to others you would allow yourself to receive help and attention from them. That you would stop keeping them at bay and let them show you a new perspective, a different way of doing things. That you would let them pave the way a little more for you and shed light onto other paths, other skills, other people that could be helpful. They want to find a common ground with you and create something stable, fruitful. They want to team up with you in order to restore balance in your life. If some of you are facing legal matters or have been wronged, they want to help you get retribution. They wish you wouldn't be so hard on yourself and stop fighting your battles alone. It's like they're saying "it doesn't have to be just you against the whole world, you don't even have to fight if you don't want to ; if you truly want it, let me stand by your side". For a lot of you this concerns your career or your studies. They wish that you would share your load with them. They wish that you would come to them for advice instead of trying to save them the worry because they're going to worry anyway so they might as well worry with you. They wish that you wouldn't be so harsh on them and judge them so harshly. You underestimate this person's ability to understand you. They wish to say "I've been there to and I know how you feel". They want to let you know that you are not alone, they fully support you in your decisions and choices. They're ready to fight for and with you. All they need is your command. They're saying "tell me what you need and I'll be getting it for you, tell me your fears and I'll send them away". Just one word from you and they will serve justice. There's also a theme about prayer, similarily to group 1. I heard "God is mighty and if you ask you shall receive". I know religion is a touchy subject so I don't want to force beliefs on anyone but if that is something you resonate with then they encourage you to keep going and turn to God for help.

Advice from your guides - Death, Versatility rx, page of cups, 4 of swords

They want you to take rest and do things that you enjoy. You may want to get your health checked. Put an end to connections and habits that are detrimental to you.

#just-a-ghost #pick a card #pac reading #spiritual pac #love pac #tarot reading #oracle cards

107 notes · View notes