#There I can drop some hints about Bill's true age that are hidden behind the 'Oh that's only because he looks like Dipper' excuse :3

[astro-b-o-y-d]

Chapter 4 is taking much longer than anticipated to edit (literally spent the whole day on it and I'm only halfway done), but I'm still halfway done with it!! And I'll see if I can't hammer away at it tomorrow as well.

[lynenspray]

alleyway sunsets

irwens x lynenspray collaboration

seungwan drags them far enough into the alley to muffle the street noise before backing her against the wall, hands steady at her hips. the whole while, there’s a mischievous smile dancing across her face. “you have to stay quiet, seul.”

(wenseul, cunnilingus, semi-public sex)

— 

europe is a dream. 

seulgi loves it. there’s just something about the cobblestone streets, the glowing shop lights, the warm and welcoming atmosphere of being in a new place with the one person she would promise a lifetime and several more with.

she sighs as the sea breeze from the bay caresses her face and lifts up the ends of her hair. seungwan had the right idea to suggest they take a trip to this island; this is the perfect vacation. instead of their schedules being filled to the brim with countless mind-numbing tasks for work, the couple instead had hours and hours together to visit museums, taste the exotic food, and best of all, drink to their hearts’ content. 

“i love it here,” seulgi admits after taking another sip of their delicious red wine. “especially the museum. the black figures juxtaposed with the bright backgrounds are just… jaw-dropping—they’re so different to witness in person. you can really tell the age of the artifacts once up close, all that history.”

seungwan smiles and leans against her side. “yeah?”

“yeah!” seulgi exclaims. “not to mention that those marked the beginning of when their narrative scenes started, so they also tell a story both in religious and daily contexts, and, uh,” she feels her cheeks burn from embarrassment when seungwan keeps her eyes focused entirely on her, an unreadable expression on her face. “am i boring you? i’m sorry—i’m literally just repeating what the museum guide said, too,” she worries with a frown. “i should stop—”

but seungwan interrupts her by snaking an arm around her waist, over her thick overcoat. “what? why on earth would you stop? i love listening to you ramble,” seungwan replies, eyes shaping into crescents as she smiles at her. she smiles at seulgi like she could offer the world in her hands “i think your rambling could actually give me a run for my money, paired up against mine.”

“i don’t think i could ramble that much,” seulgi disagrees, teasing seungwan right back as the younger woman laughs her large, hearty laugh. the kind that made one of her eyes wink close. seulgi will never get enough of that. “no one can beat you at that,” she hums, tucking a few loose strands of the smaller woman’s hair away from her slowly reddening cheeks.

“that was mean,” seungwan scrunches her nose. “but also very true. touché.” she then grins, raising her glass to clink against seulgi’s before sipping from it, seulgi eyeing the slow bob of her girlfriend’s throat and staring at the moisture left on her lips afterwards. “and for what it’s worth,” seungwan’s voice drops to a whisper, startling seulgi as she leans in closer, so close that their noses are almost touching. “i love it here too.”

maybe it’s the alcohol, or maybe it’s the fact that they were on holiday in europe. maybe it’s just the fact that seungwan is here with her in one of the most beautiful countries in the world. seulgi thinks any and every country is beautiful with seungwan by her side.

it makes seulgi really, really want to kiss seungwan. by the looks of it and how seungwan’s cheeks are turning rosy and how her eyes are locked in on seulgi’s lips, it seems like she does too. all they have to do is lean forward, tilt their heads, close their eyes and—

“another bottle?”

seulgi quickly jerks away, almost tripping over herself if that was even possible while being seated, and awkwardly laughs in front of the smiling waiter. seungwan just pouts. 

the expression on the waiter’s face lacks judgement, but their eyes do have a knowing glint in them as they gesture to the empty wine bottle on the couple’s table. “shall i?” they ask, the hint of an accent tinting their words.

seungwan takes a look at seulgi, then their half empty glasses, and then decides for them. “this is enough, thank you. in fact,” she says, and seulgi melts at seungwan’s perfect english and the way her arm around her waist tightens. “we’ll take the bill.”

“of course.”

the waiter leaves, but now seulgi is conscious of the hustle and bustle of the people around them, also partaking in late evening drinks after a hot summer day. the city is old and worn in a homey sense and romantic in every way, along every street—seulgi doesn’t blame herself at all for wanting to inch closer to her lover. she wants to feel their sides press together, to have seungwan’s leg over one of her thighs and hold her down, to have seungwan’s fingers card through her hair.

it isn’t because of the alcohol, and it isn’t because of the town set aglow. it’s purely seungwan, and seulgi wants her. she feels the heat of a blush light up her cheeks when seungwan notices the hitch in her breath, holds back a whimper when seungwan’s pupils are blown black and shining as they zero in on her, bites her lip when seungwan leans in close to whisper, “i want to—”

“we hope you had a good evening with us.”

seulgi hides her snort behind a hand when seungwan yelps and hisses out a curse in surprise before she turns to the person to blame; the waiter is back with their bill and looks too amused to be sorry for disrupting their time together. “right, thank you,” seungwan responds before placing cash on the tray, telling them to “keep the change, please,” as the waiter takes their leave and finally leaves them alone. hopefully.

and then seulgi just finds herself staring at seungwan. there’s a slight furrow on her brow when she turns back to the older woman, but it smooths out almost immediately when they find themselves lost in each other again.

“you were saying something?”

seungwan blinks, and seulgi watches the flutter of her eyelashes like it happened in slow motion. it seems like anything seungwan did seemed to catch her attention. 

“before the waiter came and, uh,” seulgi bites back a laugh at seungwan’s slowly growing pout. “—ah, you were telling me something. what did you want, wan-ah?” the taller woman asks, almost breathless from the way the lights shone against seungwan’s eyes and lit up her face.

“you.”

“you want to—me? what?” seulgi teases further, her grin widening when the tips of seungwan’s ears start to pink. “what do you want to do to me, wan-ah? tell me,” she whispers once she’s close enough.

seungwan looks around and is decent enough to notice the children around that could possibly hear their conversation. “i uh, i want to…” she trails off, looking for the words, harshly sucking in a breath when seulgi breathes against an ear and nips at it. “i want to—love—you. can we get out of here?” she barely finishes her sentence before grabbing her glass and chugging the rest of her wine, seulgi following suit. she would follow seungwan anywhere.

they leave their outdoor table with a last smile to the waiter and eventually proceed to walk along the paved road arm-in-arm, seungwan pulling her along slowly at first until her pace quickens, becoming hurried, almost carrying seulgi along with her.

“wannie?” seulgi questions, the frantic stride seungwan set almost unbecoming of her gentle girlfriend. seungwan’s head whips from side to side every few seconds, eyeing the buildings around them, yet the only things seulgi takes note of are the salty sea breeze and the warmth of seungwan beside her. the smaller woman’s next statement knocks some sense into her, however, and the heat pooling in her belly comes alive once again.

“i won’t make it as far as our room. i want to kiss you senseless, i need to have you right now.”

seulgi would have said something else, but instead her mouth snaps shut at the image. of seungwan taking her, right here, against a corner of one of the historic buildings, her hands all over her, her weight pressing against her, seulgi’s limbs becoming useless as her body completely surrenders to the whims of the other woman. 

“here, quickly,” seungwan whispers, inciting a giggle from seulgi. it feels like they’re teenagers again, with their fingers intertwined as they run through the corridors and sneak secret kisses between them sitting under the bleachers. 

“this will do,” the smaller woman decides as they come across a tiny, empty alley that’s hidden from view. the cobblestone path continues inwards, but that’s all that can be seen from where they stand, and unlike other alleys that were wide and commonly used, this was narrow and clean. 

seungwan drags them far enough into the alley to muffle the street noise before backing her against the wall, hands steady at her hips. the whole while, there’s a mischievous smile dancing across her face. 

seulgi can’t help giggling, her arms automatically coming up to wrap around seungwan’s neck and pull her in closer. in the dimness of the evening shadows, she can only make out seungwan’s rose-tinted cheeks and darkening eyes before her own slip close as seungwan presses their lips together. 

the kiss is slow, simmering with the heat of their bodies and the pleasant buzz humming beneath their skin. seulgi tilts her head, sighs, lets seungwan deepen the kiss as she’s pressed further into the wall. somewhere in the midst of it all, she feels seungwan wedge her thigh into the space between her own, and a soft moan slips from her mouth that seungwan is quick to swallow up. 

of course, seungwan knows too easily how to unravel her: the evidence is in how steadily seungwan builds her up, stoking the fire burning inside her until seulgi is practically quivering with need. when her girlfriend keeps her pinned down with her own body and grinds her thigh up into her core, hands deftly sliding up her shirt to cup and squeeze her breasts, seulgi can do nothing but gasp and whine into her mouth, senses entirely overwhelmed.

she isn’t sure where to focus her attention, and she knows seungwan is aware of what she’s doing, of the effect she has on seulgi—there’s a little, telling smile that remains on her lips as seulgi clutches desperately onto her shoulders, legs trembling and almost unable to hold herself up on her own. 

“you have to stay quiet, seul,” seungwan whispers softly, sweetly, lips brushing against seulgi’s. she presses their foreheads together as seulgi pants hot puffs of air between them, though it’s hardly a given reprieve. 

seulgi can feel fingers teasingly circling her nipples over her bra before kneading them firmly, and she keens, chest arching forward into seungwan, who is pressed right up against her. 

her reaction, if anything, only seems to encourage seungwan rather than dissuade her. “can you do that for me, baby?”

for a moment, seulgi finds herself unable to answer, too focused on trying to muffle her whimpers as seungwan’s thigh rocks into her, the friction sending sparks through her veins. a light nip to her earlobe jolts her back to attention then, and she manages to stutter out a shaky “yes.” 

a pleased hum leaves seungwan’s lips. she gives seulgi an affectionate kiss on the nose before finally stepping back, allowing her a moment to try to collect the frazzled bits of her remaining thoughts. 

in dazed confusion, seulgi can only emit a soft noise at the lost contact, but then her throat dries as seungwan sinks to her knees, gazing up at her with dark, suggestive eyes. she whimpers as seungwan’s thumbs press down along the junction between her pelvis and inner thighs, as they slowly spread her apart.

desperately, seulgi grabs at her shoulders. “w-wannie, wait,” she manages to gasp out, and seungwan instantly stills, looking up at her in concern.

“is something wrong? do you want me to stop?” seungwan asks worriedly. 

"no!" she quickly responds, only for the rest of the words to get stuck in her throat. seungwan gives her a confused look, but she remains as patient as ever, infinitely attentive and understanding. 

still unable to formulate words and entirely too captivated by the tender expression on her girlfriend’s face to even try, seulgi simply begins to shrug out of her overcoat and slide it off. understanding dawns on seungwan then, and she gives her an amused but fond smile, taking it from her hands and carefully placing it by seulgi's feet. 

"it’s going to get dirty, you know,” she murmurs as she kneels down onto the fabric, hands settling once more against seulgi’s thighs. 

the touch seems to burn through her jeans as heat coils low in her belly once again, but seulgi only laughs breathlessly. “i don’t mind, i just don’t want you to hurt yourself.” 

seungwan softens immediately. before seulgi has time to react, she feels her thighs being nudged apart by seungwan’s insistent fingers, and a small gasp escapes her. “thank you, seul,” seungwan says gently, a coy smile slowly curving along her lips. “now let’s continue where we left off, yeah?” she leans forward to plant a kiss on her inner thigh. 

“wannie,” seulgi begins weakly, but seungwan just softly hushes her this time. her hand trails up to cup seulgi between her legs, giving her a firm squeeze that has seulgi buckling over with a groan. another hand comes up to pin her hips back, keeping her both from either bucking forward or falling over.

“unbuckle your belt, baby,” seungwan purrs, her eyes never leaving her. sweat drips down seulgi’s forehead as she struggles to comprehend through the heady feeling fogging up her head, but then seungwan gives her another squeeze, and it spurs her forward as she lets out a strangled gasp.

slowly, obedient as always, seulgi begins to undo her belt with shaking fingers. she feels the hand between her legs start to massage her then, fingers digging in through the fabric of her jeans, and seulgi clamps down hard on her lower lip, poorly muffling her whines as shocks of pleasure wrack through her. her thighs tremble from how helpless she feels, completely at the mercy of seungwan’s every titillating touch.

“unzip too, seul, i want these off,” seungwan says lightly, thumb tapping against her jeans, right above her clit. there’s a pleased look on her face as she carefully gauges seulgi’s expression, taking in the way her eyes squeeze shut at her words. 

seulgi complies, of course, fingers dragging down the front of her pants to unbutton and unfasten her jeans. seungwan doesn’t stop kneading her core the entire time, and it leaves seulgi feeling utterly wrecked by the time she manages to completely undo her pants, flushed and quivering. she manages to tug the fabric down at last, but only until just past her hips, before seungwan takes pity on her and helps pull them down to her lower thighs. 

cooing softly, seungwan presses her palm up against the front of her panties, which are damp and sticky with her arousal. the teasing pressure causes seulgi to jerk forward instinctively, sucking in a breath as the tips of her ears redden. “good girl, seulgi-yah,” she hears seungwan murmur. 

almost immediately, her knees go weak as she lets out a gasping whimper. they nearly buckle under herself if not for seungwan’s knowing grip at her hips, keeping her pinned back against the wall just in time. 

seungwan chuckles quietly. “i’ve got you, baby, i’m here,” she soothes, tracing along sharp, narrow hip bones. seulgi shudders with every brush of her hands, shivers still tingling along her spine. she’s panting heavily, feeling all of a sudden too weak, too sensitive. her body is overheating, every nerve inside her on fire.

when seungwan runs her fingers along the fabric covering her underside, seulgi mewls. she doesn’t realize she’s biting her knuckles to muffle herself until she hears seungwan let out a soft coo.

“that’s it, seul.” fingers hook beneath the band of her underwear, slowly beginning to tug them down. “not too loud, or i’ll have to stop. you don’t want that, right?”

coolness kisses along her folds as they’re exposed to the evening air, causing seulgi to suck in a breath. frantically, she shakes her head. there’s a beat of silence, one with still anticipation, before hands settle along her inner thighs and she feels hot air washing over her core, quickly replacing the chill that had begun to set into her skin. the contrast is startling, unexpected; the slightest whimper slips past her lips.

“i think i’ve teased you enough. you’re soaking, baby,” seungwan murmurs. she’s so close that seulgi feels the words against her more than hears them. before she has the time to flush in reaction, a hot, wet tongue slides against her heat, licking up slowly, tantalizingly.

a strangled moan tears itself from seulgi’s mouth, just barely covered by the back of her own hand. she only has a second to recover her bearings before seungwan’s tongue presses up between her legs again, lapping steadily, hungrily at her dripping core. sparks go off behind her eyes as she feels herself getting wetter, the muscles in her abdomen clenching. biting back a breathless whine, seulgi shoots her free hand out to brace herself against the wall, against the sudden onslaught of sensations.

she has no idea whether or not she’s successfully quelling her noises; each wash of seungwan’s tongue over her center, every teasing dip of it into her entrance leaves her reeling, desperately empty and begging for more.

seungwan, who has kneeled between her legs on countless occasions, knows seulgi like the back of her own hand. by now seulgi understands that every move her girlfriend makes against her for her pleasure, every thrust of her tongue and her fingers is deliberate. she could make seulgi scream if she wanted to. and if the mood and the setting were different, she has no doubt that seungwan absolutely would. 

the fact that seungwan isn’t is just because she knows how to show mercy; even with her on her knees, they are both markedly aware of who exactly is in control.

and so seulgi is left to do her best to muffle herself with her own hand, whining quietly and bucking helplessly into seungwan’s mouth, into the relentless thrust of her tongue inside her. fingers scrambling for purchase against the wall, whitened knuckles bitten between her teeth. seulgi pants, feels seungwan lick hotly into her, nose nudging against her sensitive clit. her head knocks backward, eyelashes fluttering wetly. 

the heat coils, builds inside her, mixes with the sweat trickling down the back of her neck. she sees the sun dipping out of sight, a sliver of light disappearing in the vision of her closed eyes, before seungwan’s tongue presses deep into her one last time and seulgi cums hard with a breathless moan. 

her every limb is still tingling as seulgi floats down from a moment of pure-white pleasure; faintly, she’s aware of seungwan still lapping against her, licking up her slick and oversensitive folds as if to not waste a single drop of her release. she whimpers uselessly, at the mercy of the aftershocks prickling up her thighs as seungwan attentively cleans her up. 

“w-wannie,” seulgi stutters weakly between gasping breaths, finally mustering the strength to open her eyes. her girlfriend is looking up at her with a satisfied set to her expression, and seulgi knows she must have watched every single second as seulgi fell apart against her mouth. the thought has seulgi biting her lip, tampering down a sudden ebb of want that pulses through her.

with a final little kiss to her clit that has seulgi jerking forward, seungwan carefully rises to her feet, the same smile that had started all of this once again adorning her face. seulgi can only stare back, still and breathless, as seungwan cups her face, slowly drawing her into a kiss.

of course, as their mouths curve against one another, as seungwan hums pleasantly into her, seulgi can taste herself on seungwan’s lips. it mixes in with the sweetness of seungwan, with the wine that lingers from earlier evening. all of it combined causes seulgi to groan quietly into the mouth joined against hers, hands trembling as they settle around seungwan’s hips. 

when they part, even in the space of a breath between them seulgi can see a gleam in seungwan’s eyes saying they haven’t finished yet. the thumb that glides along her lower lip, dipping into her mouth to trace the ridges of her teeth, only confirms it; a low gasp escapes from her mouth before her lips obediently close around seungwan’s finger, suckling lightly. and she watches as seungwan’s gaze begins to darken once more.

“you were so good for me, staying all quiet when i told you to, weren’t you, baby?” seungwan murmurs, grasping seulgi by the hip, pressing her thumb in deeper. 

seulgi groans around the intrusion, nostrils flaring sharply. she feels seungwan’s body heat bear down on her as she’s pinned against the wall, stomach to stomach with her girlfriend. the brush of fabric against her inner thigh reminds her suddenly of how naked her legs still are, of the thigh easing in between her own to keep them spread apart. the fingers trailing along her pelvis, dangerously near her center, only makes her tremble even more in anticipation.

“such a good girl,” seungwan continues softly, smiling knowingly when a deep flush blossoms across seulgi’s cheeks. her eyes all of a sudden feel watery, and the faint arousal that had been lingering between her legs promptly comes roaring back in full force. “i should give you a reward for being so well-behaved, right, seul?”

seulgi whimpers, nodding timidly around seungwan’s finger. she feels so weak, knees shaky all over again. in the end, her greatest weakness has always been seungwan’s words, seungwan’s praise. knowing she’s been good for her girlfriend, that she’s made her happy—it makes seulgi feel incredibly good too. incredibly proud. happy on a level she sometimes can’t even comprehend.

the palm that cups her center drags seulgi back to the present, and she moans softly, eyelids fluttering, as seungwan gives her a teasing squeeze. “that’s it, baby, come back to me,” seungwan coaxes, beginning to stroke her dampened folds. “you’re doing so well. always so wet and ready for me, hmm? always eager to please, always easy to be pleased. obedient. such a good girl.” 

seulgi mewls desperately, flushed and heated as she rocks into seungwan’s hand. her breath feels caught in her throat, stuck somewhere in her lungs as she gasps and whines around seungwan’s thumb. 

seungwan always knows how good seulgi wants to be. and she’s always telling seulgi how good she is. her words anchor seulgi down, lets her fall into the secure grasp of her girlfriend, who cares for her with such deep-seated sincerity. 

fingers sink into her, long and reaching as they quickly fill her up. seulgi pants out a whimper, spine arching and chest pressing forward, hands trembling as she clutches onto seungwan’s back. when seungwan leans in, the praise comes in whispers, soothing words breathed out against the shell of her ear. 

“look at you, baby, so pretty and full for me. dripping, stretching open for my fingers.” seungwan’s hand pistons in and out of her, smooth and steady, unrelenting. seulgi chokes on a moan, feeling a finger rubbing firmly against her clit. “you like that, don’t you, seul? of course you do, darling. always so good for me.”

for the second time, the muscles in her stomach tighten, and the heat inside her builds up into a roaring flame beneath her skin. a breathless groan leaves her every time seungwan’s fingers slide back into her, and something like stars flash across her vision at the pressure against her sensitive nub. seungwan’s words, her touches, the physical weight of her body holding seulgi down and into submission—it has her shaking on the edge of a cliff, desperate, wanting and waiting— 

seungwan presses into her with one final thrust, fingers curling as she brings her lips to the corner of seulgi’s mouth. “go on, baby,” she coos gently, finally. “let go for me.” 

eyes clenched shut, seulgi tips over, and the waves crash into her as she falls apart in seungwan’s arms with a shuddery, high-pitched cry. 

when her legs finally give out and she buckles forward into seungwan, an arm instantly wraps around and steadies her. seulgi can only pant hotly into seungwan’s shoulder, shuddering with every shallow thrust of the fingers inside her as she rides out her release. 

her every nerve feels overloaded with sensation, electricity tingling up and down her spine. seungwan coos, gently pats her back. “i have you, seul. i’m right here.” 

seulgi can only whimper as she feels seungwan’s fingers leave her. but she stays limp in her grasp, chest heaving for breath. faintly, she’s aware of her underwear being pulled back up her hips and then her pants soon after; the click of her belt buckle follows a few moments later, along with seungwan's shifting to pick her overcoat off the floor.

a soft kiss is pressed to the side of head, and seulgi blearily tilts her face back to look up at seungwan’s beaming smile. “how do you feel?” she asks gently, curling a stray hair behind seulgi’s ear.

“really good,” seulgi whispers with a happy sigh, returning seungwan’s hug. she finally has enough strength in her legs to hold herself up again, and she takes the opportunity to straighten up and then nuzzle her nose against seungwan’s. the movement elicits a faint laugh from the younger woman, and seulgi feels her heart soar. “do you want . . . your turn now?”

seungwan only snorts. “there’s no rush,” she replies. “we can continue this later.” she leans back in seulgi’s arms to begin patting down her hair, straightening her collar and softly caressing her face. “besides, it’s already dark out, seul.”

seulgi answers with a hum as seungwan steps away; the chilly air hits her all at once as soon as she leaves her side. the absence of seungwan’s heat makes seulgi even more conscious of how it felt to have seungwan in her arms, pressed up against her. she wants more of her. and seungwan doesn’t deny her when she invades her lover’s space again for another kiss, and then another, and then another.

“not here, love,” seungwan cuts her off with a giggle. when seulgi leans back the moonlight curves over seungwan’s features in a way that makes her glow. “we have a warm bed waiting for us. yeah?” seungwan gives a final kiss before stepping back out into the street with seulgi by her arm.

a soft bed. dim lights. seungwan’s moans echoing throughout the room.

“seul? hey—!” seungwan laughs now that it’s seulgi’s turn to tug her along, weaving in between the crowd, excited to get her alone and have her way with her now.

[sumeshi-t]

hinata shoyou x reader | hanahaki x reincarnation au; a chaotic mix of fluff, crack, and angst.

song: lifetime by ben&ben

a/n: a three-part fic because i didn’t want it to get too long in one post. this is my first time working on an au and hinata so i hope i did him justice. beta-ed by @taeiliee ​ iloveyou mom always <3

i. 》 ii. 》 iii.

*:･ﾟ✧ "Tangled with another's eyes–nevermind, you were never mine," ✧･ﾟ: *

Your fingers drummed against the table, eyes intent on the ginger sat before you. “So, what do you say?”

He looks away, avoiding your gaze, fidgeting in his seat. Hinata Shoyou wasn’t sure why he was feeling nervous under your gaze, especially when you were the one basically asking him for a favor, “B-But, why should we date? I know I wasn’t… meant to see that, and I swear, y/n-san, I would never tell Kenma! We can just end it at… that,”

When you don't respond, Hinata decides to raise his eyes to look at you—your face looks solemn, and somehow… something about it, something about you just draws him in. This time, you were the one staring outside the glass wall of the antique cafe. His heartbeat quickened, breath getting caught in his throat—

‘...beautiful,’ was the only word he could find to describe that moment, even if your eyes had a faraway look in them. Hinata knew your true wish was that this never had happened, and that you were talking to Kenma instead.

If only he never went back to the restroom.

You tried not to heave a sigh at your impulsive and brash decision, and at his innocent question. But what can you do when your life's on the line? Ten years left in your life may seem like a long time but, “It’s not enough. Please, Hinata-san.”

You had the sudden urge to cough, and, upon doing so, Hinata could only watch as your pale hands covered your mouth, and the sound of coins dropping to the floor entered his ears. There was a bit of blood that ran down your nose, and he immediately reached for a table napkin. More than guilt, it was worry that bubbled from his chest. 

Even if you had explained it—this sickness—that you had, he still found it ridiculous.

You saw nothing but the disbelief in his eyes, desperate to get a grasp at this uncanny reality.

You saw yourself in them, in his constricted pupils and lids widened—reminded of the first time you discovered that you were sick with a rare disease you thought only exists in fiction.

The Hanahaki Disease, a disease acquired from garnering an unrequited love, was something that no medical doctor could cure nor control—anthosectomy, the surgical removal of flowers, was nothing but a temporary solution.

One must be loved in return to be free from it. 

Apparently in your case, the disease has “mutated”. That instead of flowers or petals blooming from your lungs, money would begin to collect in them, beginning from coins and eventually into large bills as it grew worse over time.

You only discovered this fact just two, about three weeks ago, during breakfast, after a lone coin dropped into your cup of coffee, mocking you as it floated; the aftertaste of iron and aluminum on your tongue. 

“Our family inheritance… came from their chest—even your mother’s.” your father muttered regrettably, with a hint of disgust, back turned to you in the study. 

“I didn’t expect for you to catch the disease this early, and you’re doing so well with your current business projects,” he heaves a sigh, fingers grazing through the spines of the books, before pulling a velvet-covered hardcover, worn out from time.

“How long… has this been going on, dad? Is this some sick family tradition?! So… does this mean…?” you couldn’t even say the words—you haven’t even confessed and yet, having this disease only meant that Kozume Kenma didn’t feel the same way you did.

Finally, your father sits before you, sliding the title-less book towards you. He explains further that you read its contents—the ancestral diary—about the history and the findings made by your predecessors.

He calls for your name softly when your wide eyes never left the book in your hands. He looks over you sympathetically, “I thought that by hiding this from you, I was protecting you from harm.” Your father’s eyes squinted, wanting to reach out to you but his conscience telling him he failed you as a parent was stronger.

“But y/n, don’t give up… don’t be like them, like me,” your father says this with blood dripping from the corner of his lips, before clutching his chest, spitting bills of varying amounts out his mouth. 

“I never thought ten years would pass by so quickly,”

You look at him, mortified at his pallid face, standing up in worry, going to his side. “Who…?”

With a weak smile on his lips, your father utters your mother’s name, voice just above a whisper, tender and soft at hearing her name come from his own lips.

“And I don’t regret it. Loving her is the best decision I’ve made, even if she didn’t want it.”

You spent the next week with him, until he breathed his last, inevitably leaving you to face this battle of love and pain on your own.

As if everybody’s expectations from you weren’t high enough already, now that you were alone, it skyrocketed through the roof. Even as you knelt before the portrait of your father, refusing to talk to anyone on the first day of his wake.

You heard their whispers, you knew their motives—nobody really cared about the life of a rich man, they only cared about the man’s riches. You shut down any and all talks about businesses to potential or lifelong business partners; the least they could do was respect you and let you mourn.

On the third and last night of the wake, someone unexpected came to pay his respects.

“Kenma…?”

“Hello, y/n. I…” he looks away shyly, a few strands of hair falling to cover a portion of his face. “I’m sorry,” he finally managed to squeak out. His hand reached out to you, holding a tiny plastic bag filled with your favorite snacks, all over a black-white envelope.

Seeing Kozume Kenma in a formal suit, bun loosely tied by his nape, awkwardly scratching his cheek; you could feel the ice in your heart being slowly thawed by the scene before you. You would’ve finally smiled; you would’ve pulled him in just so you could cry out into his chest.

But you felt suffocated, and the slap of this impossible reality you couldn’t dodge stung against your bare and open heart, pulling you back and keeping you rooted in your place.

You knew his apologies were meant for condolences—but your father wasn’t the only one who died. You mourned for your own demise, wishing you could bury these hidden feelings along with his ashes and leave everything behind to start anew.

But secrets turn into regrets, and buried feelings would only grow.

Your fingers brushed against his skin as you took the plastic bag in your hands, the sensation sending sparks to your nerves. You didn’t hear yourself mutter your gratitude, only the sound of Kenma’s soft gasp. The back of his hand wiped the tear stains off your cheek, “How long have you been holding back, y/n?”

‘A long time, Kenma,’ you wished to answer, but you knew you or your words didn’t matter to him as much as you’d have liked to. Even through the tears that blurred your vision, the love in your eyes for him was clear.

Kenma awkwardly pulled you close, a hand behind your head to press your face against his chest, while his other arm remained by his side. His actions strongly reflected how he felt nothing more for you than just a friend and a board director—he didn’t even choose to hug you.

But the unheard truth didn’t stop you.

Behind the lids of your eyes, you saw little moments of joy you had shared with Kenma—maybe it all began with an inevitable meeting in your office, unlike the usual video conferences he would attend. Working with someone your age with the same prospects and visions was rare for you in the world of business—you mused, this feeling was mutual.

Then the meetings became less about business, and more for just the heck of it.

You daydreamed about him, seeing his smile from the corner of your eyes when you were alone. His intelligence was a given, so maybe it was his soft-spoken, honest nature; or the way he was athletic even if he stayed in his house majority of the time.

That was the tip of the iceberg.

Because really, it was more of feeling so at peace when you were with him. You couldn’t hold back being yourself when you were with Kozume Kenma because despite hiding behind several secret doors you’ve put up all your life, the scrutiny of his sharp, cat-like eyes opened each of them, finding you over and over.

You didn’t want to lose that sense of familiarity. So, you chose to ignore the signs that you were indeed falling for him. And by doing so, your life was now reduced to a mere ten more years, caught at crossroads, burdened with making the decision between continuing your family’s horrible legacy or carving out your own place in his heart and have him learn to love you.

The words of your father echoed in your head.

And it bounced off your lips, “Kenma… please stay, just a bit longer,”

“Kenma, are you he—oh?”

Hinata Shoyou peeks from behind the corner, checking if he didn’t get lost in your family’s large home. His presence made you shy away from Kenma, clearing your throat before the ginger-haired man was introduced to you.

He offered you the brightest smile you’ve ever seen, fitting for the shade of his hair and contrasting the dark hues of his clothes. “Kenma and I go way back, he actually sponsors me!” his cheeks were dusted pink, both embarrassed and excited. “Now I play for a team in Division 1,”

‘Ah, he’s that kind of person,’ was your initial thought. Hinata Shoyou seemed so easy to read, pure and unadulterated intentions out in the open for everyone to see. What’s fascinating was that he makes it seem so easy to not let that be a vulnerability.

Spending a few hours with someone whose energy was bigger than him—cliché as it sounds, but it was akin to standing beneath the rays of the sun. Hinata Shoyou radiates warmth upon your frozen heart, even if for just a moment.

It was a different kind of peace. And you looked forward to seeing more of his large smiles.

Just… not this soon.

Maybe it was fate playing tricks on you. The timing was quite impeccable.

Kenma went ahead first, Hinata had to go to the restroom. Soon as you stood up to see him out, you cough, coins falling to the floor. One of them finds its way towards Hinata, rolling and stopping when it hits his foot.

“Oh? Lucky!” he picks it up, hears more coins hitting the floor that he has to look for the source. Hinata sees your back hunched over, money around your feet. As he was approaching you, he said sheepishly, “y/n-san, is this yours? I was about to take it—!”

“y-y/n…y/n-san… are you… okay?”

Hinata flinched as you glared at him, voice seething, words through gritted teeth. “Don’t you dare tell Kenma.”

Hinata nods once, pocketing the coin he had in his hand on instinct, before scurrying away.

You let the incident pass, as you had the cremation and burial to worry about in the meantime. But a few days after, all it takes you is a phone call to Kenma and a few texts to Hinata—which leads you to the present wherein you and the athlete agree to meet at a café.

“Now that you know, here’s the deal I’m offering you, Hinata-san. I’ll sponsor you in exchange for your silence. And…” you take a sip from your coffee, watching him from over the rim of the cup. Hinata was uneasy, confused, and shocked at the illness you had. It was as if he were in a volleyball game, forced to take in so many things at once.

“Hinata-san, go out with me. Let’s date. What do you say?”

“E-Eh…?! B-But, why should we date? I know I wasn’t… meant to see that, and I swear, y/n-san, I would never tell Kenma! We can just end it at… that,”

“It’s not enough. Please, Hinata-san.”

Hinata stood quickly, contemplating just how he was going to help. He has to bite the cheeks of his mouth, looking over you with worry as hundred and five hundred yen coins spilled from you. You felt his hands slightly shaking when he gave you the table napkin, and in return you motion for him to take a drink so he could calm down.

“Sorry about that—so, do you agree to be my boyfriend? If you need time to think of a response, I can give you two days, because I have to go in a few minutes,” you say this, looking at your wristwatch while slowly gathering your things.

“y/n-san,” Hinata began, still standing by your side, looking down to meet your gaze. “I… I agree. Because I want to help you in any way I can, just to give back, with how generous you are and… because you don’t deserve this. But why does it have to be me?”

His words struck something within you, but then your own sorrows blocked him out. “Your timing was just perfectly terrible. I’m sorry for dragging you into my problems, Hinata-san.”

Hinata felt his pulse quicken at how you looked up at him from beneath your lashes. His unease somehow was replaced by something. But your next words broke his trance, “There is only one condition that you have to follow,”

With a smile that never reached your eyes, Hinata feels his own heart break at how you were like a broken porcelain doll, red lips moving so easily to convey words, convey the one law you’ve forced him to follow and would eventually break—

“Never fall in love with me.”

cheese cult: @akaashichigo @drainedjaz @haikkeiji @annalyn-annalyn @sosugasweet @cali-writes-sometimes @simping4ratsumu @shishinoya @ushiwakaa @akaashit-baeji @kxgeyamasmilk @agaassi ​ @hanibuni ​ @cupofkenma ​ @kawanisshi ​ @milkandc00kiez ​ @thiccbokuto ​ @shinsukestan ​ @sufiawrites ​ @wakaitoshi ​ @skyguy-peach ​ @fern-writes-ig ​ @briswriting ​ @kawaiikraykray ​ @bubbleteaa ​ @miyuswriting ​ @raevaioli ​ @ouikarwa ​ @hakueishirei ​ @pineapplekween ​ @estherwritess ​ @keiji-n ​ @achoohq ​ @badlywritten-hq ​ @mochibeaa @oinkanna ​ @chxrry-wxne ​ @spudicide ​ @airybby ​ @asranomical ​ @karmasuna ​ @nekoglasses ​

gen. taglist: @yams046 ​ 

[michelles-garden-of-evil]

Episode 6 Review, Part I: Dream a Little Dream of Me

{ YouTube: 1 | 2 | 3 }

{ Synopses: Debby Graham | Bryan Gruszka }

{ Screencaps }

Even though this is one of my favorite episodes, it’s taken me a while to get motivated to write this. I don’t want to get into detail about my personal life because it’s irrelevant to this blog, but last week was very busy and hectic. With the holidays coming up, things are also likely to get really wild really soon, so odds are I will be progressing even more slowly through this show. Yes, this is going to be another two-parter and yes, in the second part, I plan on doing another deep dive into the contents of the flashback.

We start out with Jean Paul bitching again at the portrait because, at the end of Episode 5, he finally figured out that making a deal with the Devil was a bad idea. Shortly after Raxl has had a chance to air her grievances towards Jacques as well, they meet up in the crypt downstairs. There she tells him of Dr. Menkin’s death, including Jacques’ explanation that Menkin was drunk. “Dr. Menkin never drank,” he says, and she responds, “Yes, I know. But you told me yourself that he had been drunk.”

In this shot, you can clearly see a camera on the right-hand side of the screen.

Considering that she knows that Jacques likes possessing him, one can safely conclude that she is feigning ignorance. After some exposition for the new viewers about the conjure doll and the silver pin, Raxl gives some new background information about Jacques’ crimes:

Raxl: “Three hundred years ago, Jacques Eloi des Mondes ceased to care for his wife and she was dead. After that, her younger sister, then she was dead. There is a sister of your wife under this roof. Is she younger than my mistress?”

Jean Paul: “Yes.”

Raxl: “Then get her out of here before she is dead! Please, M’sieu! It is all we can do! We must fight!”

Jean Paul: “Against whom? A man of three hundred years ago?”

Raxl: “The Devil is eternal!”

Really, Jean Paul? You need to be reminded whom you’re fighting against? You need to be reminded that Jacques Eloi des Mondes is a threat and possibly the Devil himself? Look, I know that you were born sometime in the mid- to late 1930s and grew up in a world where most people didn’t believe in the supernatural and viewed voodoo and similar religions as superstition, but the spirit of Jacques has already started messing with your life! He’s possessed you! He’s killed Dr. Menkin! He talks to you all the time through his portrait! He even changes your clothes sometimes and gets you drunk while he’s in your body! And besides, I’m going to assume that Jean Paul was raised some variety of Christian, so most likely he already believed in the Devil before the beginning of the show. I could see him being skeptical if Raxl one day decided to proselytize to him about the Great Serpent, but, in this case, he just has no excuse for not believing her.

Jacques poncily inspecting Jean Paul’s fingernails right after possessing him. I suspect that many real-life 17th-century fops liked making this sort of gesture.

Anyway, Jacques possesses him and tells her to go away, then reveals while talking to the cryocapsule that he has no intention on reviving Erica until after he’s had his fun. I’m sure that this is not surprising, because why should he want to return to Hell when he can stay on Earth for the time being and wreak havoc on the residents of Maljardin?

In the Great Hall, Jean Paul--who is himself once again--meets up with Alison. She can’t sleep because she is still trying to recover from the shock of Erica’s death and can’t accept that Jean Paul has frozen her with the intent to bring her back to life. He starts to comfort her, but then...well...I think you can guess what happens next...

As of this episode, Colin Fox hasn’t yet mastered the sexy evil smirk, but he is still hot as Hell.

If you guessed “Jacques possesses him again,” you’re right! The early episodes get predictable quickly, and, although I have no evidence to support it, I suspect that was one of the things Robert Costello* criticized about the show when he became producer. But predictable doesn’t always mean boring, and the sequence coming up is an interesting one.

Jacques dropping a hint about his true identity to Alison, who--fortunately for him--refuses to believe that Jean Paul is possessed. Note that the portrait is still visible in the background. Continuity error or inconsistency?

While pretending to be Jean Paul, Jacques gives Alison a history lesson on himself in the third person: “Jacques was a very active man. He was a chevalier, he was renowned of royalty and he was a scholar, an engineer, a navigator, an explorer, and a free-looter. He was the beginning of the family's true wealth. Legend has it that in the coral caves beneath the island of Maljardin, he buried a king’s ransom, which still lies hidden. To tell you the truth, I’m a secret admirer of his.”

So many BISSITS!

Alison is intrigued, but still not convinced that Jacques was a good person (perhaps the “free-looter” bit tipped her off?), and is still worried about him. “You do identify with him,” she says. “He frightens me.” To reassure her, Jacques goes on to draw some comparisons between himself and Jean Paul, taking the opportunity to try to seduce her:

Jacques: “Look at our history. He had a wife that he adored who died, as I did. He brought her to this château, as I brought Erica. He lost a princess, a woman he loved.”

Alison: “As you lost Erica.”

Jacques: “Well, you could say the connection has a ring of witchcraft about it--but only in theory, of course.”

Alison: “That’s a comfort.”

Jacques: “But I will add one more thing. Jacques’ wife had a sister. And her name was Rahua.”

Alison: *falling under Jacques’ spell* “Rahua? A pretty name.”

Jacques: “The name of a goddess. And her hair was like ripened wheat. Her skin was as white as goat's milk and as soft to the touch as the morning mist on the water of the lakes.”

Alison: “Sounds lovely. So real. You describe her almost as though you knew her.”

Jacques: “History to me is real and so romantic in spite of the tragedy.”

A man after my own heart.

Alison interrupts Jacques’ attempted seduction to ask about the death of Jacques’ wife. “Huaco was her name,” he responds. “They climbed to the headland alone to watch the sunset. They didn't realize that the terrible force of the trade winds would be a danger to them, the terrible force at the cliff edge. And when they reached there, Jacques Eloi’s cries of warning were drowned out by the wind that plucked her from the cliff heights and threw her into the sea like a rag doll.”

Soon after, the conversation shifts to Jean Paul’s plans to revive Erica, but Alison doesn’t want to hear about it. Then the handsome devil decides to drop another hint:

Cue another flashback in the form of a dream that Jacques gives Alison about Rahua. I will write about the flashback in more detail in my next post, so I will just summarize it for now. Huaco has just given birth to Jacques’ son and leaves dinner early to see him, but her sister Rahua (who, like Alison, is played by Dawn Greenhalgh) stays behind. Jacques kisses and tries to seduce her, but she is reluctant to accept his advances because she is his wife’s sister. To persuade her, he says, “The right [to happiness] belongs to those who take it,” and they kiss. It’s a great scene, if slightly reminiscent of a cheesy bodice-ripper in its execution--but, frankly, if someone were to write a cheesy bodice-ripper starring Jacques, I would probably love it. I’m a big believer in the Reader’s Bill of Rights; I am under no obligation to defend my tastes.

I know that Jacques is evil and likely planning on eventually killing her, but I want to be Alison in this scene. Why aren’t men my age this dashing?

Alison is distressed by the dream, crying “no” in her sleep, which makes me wonder if we the audience are missing part of it. Or does the thought of a romance between her and her brother-in-law distress her that much? When she wakes up, Jacques--who has been by her side the whole time probably implanting the dream into her head--pretends to comfort her (see above). Then he says his, echoing his line from the dream:

Yes, Jacques, I’d love to.

After she leaves, Jacques monologues to the audience about being the Devil, looking devilishly hot while doing so and flashing that gorgeous grin some more. (I will post separately, because this post is already a mile long.) By the end of the episode, the crew still hasn’t noticed the continuity error/inconsistency from earlier, and rolls the ending credits over the still-visible portrait of Jacques:

Stay tuned for an in-depth look at the first flashback about Jacques and Rahua, including my thoughts on the costumes. I can’t promise it’ll be finished this week, but I will try. Until next time...pleasant...dreams?

Notes

* Yes, the same Robert Costello who produced Dark Shadows left DS to work on this. So did two early DS writers, Ron Sproat and Joe Caldwell, who wrote some of the early Desmond Hall episodes. I will write more about them when they become relevant.

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