#and if that statement is true then that means that you've made someone's world before and cant even fathom how grateful they are

[dustyforeskin]

"the universe is cruel and uncaring" cool story bro, go watch a documentary about the resilience of humans and animals and watch your heart grow three times its size

[goodluckclove]

I've been meaning to say something. (100 follower hot take)

Hey! Thanks for stopping by. I hope you've had a nice day. Why don't you rest with me for a while? I made some chocolate chip cookies - with shortening instead of butter, so they're very soft and very chocolatey. I made way too many and they aren't my wife's favorite, so I could use some help in eating them.

You're probably a writer, right? Or maybe you think about how you could be. Browse the tags here, or on other social media platforms. Maybe you used to write stories as a kid. I bet those were fun. Teachers might've thought they were impressive, or they dissected them line by line until the words didn't make sense in your head anymore. Either way, if you're here you're probably here for a reason.

(rant alert)

I dipped a toe in online writing communities on and off. My last attempt was forty-five minutes scrolling through the writing hashtag on Youtube Shorts (so TikTok, I guess? I don't know). I didn't like it. I really didn't. The thing that sticks out the strongest in my mind is one particular video where a woman claims that every story needs a second act plot twist.

Huh? Every story? All of them? Why? Since when? Who are you? What qualifications do you have to make a statement like that?

That's the common thread that makes a lot of writing spaces very uncomfortable for me. Successful writers are really only successful in their genre and for the given moment, so they don't have that much objective authority in the craft. And yet I see a lot of people deciding the things that you can't do in writing. Or the things you have to do, and how you have to do them. It was so much of Writeblr at first glance that I almost dipped out once again. I didn't, though, and I'm glad I didn't because now I get to watch some of the next great storytellers from across the world grow and examine and forge their way forward.

No one can teach you how to write. No, that's not true. Teachers teach literacy. Handwriting. Typing maybe - do schools still teach typing? Let me try saying it in a different way - no one, not one single person on this goddamned planet, has the right to tell you how to make a story.

I was supposed to get my MFA in creative writing before my first breakdown. My uncle stayed in the program I was meant to be in, and a few years after I dropped out he graduated. Recently I had the thought to look up his thesis novella, and as I searched I found myself regretting my decision to leave school. If I stayed and got to develop my writing in an actual class, with other writers and a knowledgeable professor, how much further along would I be than where I am right now?

It was bad. His novella was terrible. It was so bad I had a small existential crisis for, like, three days. He spent so much money on years and years of professional education and came out with a truly soulless story that read as if you prompted an AI to write the next Great American Novel. So if you think you need a writing degree to be a legitimate author, it could help connections-wise, but it ultimately won't be the thing that does the work for you.

Not all advice I see online on writing is bad. I find the people who are able to capture the "I" statements of therapy and phrase advice as things that have worked for them, or things that they personally enjoy, to be fine. Some writing advice can spark inspiration.

But if someone is the type of person to boil every story down to troupes and cliches, and then immediately say that every story that uses the trait they don't like is automatically bad for everyone? I'm dropping the kindness for a second - that's trash. That's a trash take and I see far too many writers use it as a reason to stop before they begin.

I don't like whump. I say my reasons in previous posts if you go back through my blog. But you will never hear me say that any story with whump in it is bad, because I don't know that. You might prove me wrong. I am an adult human being and I have the humility to admit that I can like something I didn't expect to. I genuinely enjoy the direction of The Human Centipede (only the first one) and if you cringed just now that probably means you haven't seen it.

There are so many types of books and movies and plays and comics out there. To enjoy a specific genre is fine, to ignore the existence of everything else is a really, really, really odd thing to do. Maybe someone will hate your story because they think everything should be Neil Gaiman, and therefore have no way to understand your epistolary high-Western. You are not the wrong end of that situation just for existing.

And at there is a definite threshold on how many writing tips you can gather before they stop being useful. If you find them interesting, that's one thing. That's fine. But if the culture of creativity online has made you feel like you need to educate yourself on every possible angle before you can write a story, you are actively harming yourself.

Imagine taking the level of structure you put on yourself in that way and putting it on children playing pretend in the backyard. Oh, Susie, don't you know that it's overdone for your Kitsune have dead parents? Xyler, shouldn't you ask someone else before you decide how Spiderman would react to this? It would make no sense and they do not need it. Kids will make a whole world out of nothing and it's the most fucked thing in my heart that at some point they get access to Reddit and dipshits start insisting that's wrong.

They aren't wrong and you aren't either. Your favorite creative influencer can't tell you your story, strangers on the internet can't tell you your story, your teachers and loved ones can't tell you your story. They can influence it, but they can't write it honestly the way you can.

You do that. That's the thing you do.

Man that makes me upset. I can't tell you how to make a story, either. If anyone sends me asks for writing advice the most I'll do is say what I've done before hopping into your DMs and starting a direct conversation. it's so personal to each individual artist, and I'd like to think that the people selling these classes and software and promoting these platforms haven't thought about that before. Otherwise it does feel manipulative. If you have a willingness to practice and imagine and really experiment with the possibilities, you are ready to write your story.

And if it doesn't work? Try again. That's what you do.

Stephen King has written roughly a thousand books and maybe five of them have decent endings. He is unimaginably successful.

I'm rambling now. I think I got that out of my system. I was really worried to say this out of fear of being too weird or somehow reverse-gatekeeping so hard that it circles back into also being a bad thing. I've just spoken to a lot of people who I still think of throughout my day, and I truly ache for them to get past the fear of creation. Because it's worth it. It's worth it and it's fun, even when it's messy and you're tired.

Let it Be just came on. Beatles. I haven't listened to The Beatles in a long time. Feels a little apropos.

I love you, reader. Reader, Writer, Colleague. Take care of yourself. Especially the little you, still sitting there in the backyard of your soul, bathing in the sun with their bare feet in the damp earth.

Consider joining them, maybe.

[7ndipity]

Army of One

Jin x Reader

Summary: You've struggled with depression for a long time, but Jin will never let you fight on you own...

Warnings: angst, depression, mentions of scars but nothing detailed, not proofread

A/N: This is kinda messy, but I’ve been going through some stuff and just wanted to get some of it out, and decided to share it on the chance that maybe it’ll make someone else feel a little better or comforted too. It’s loosely inspired by my favorite Coldplay song of the same title. Love y’all💜

Masterlist

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

It was well past midnight, everything washed in grey-blue light, the only sounds that permeated the space around you was the distant white-noise of the traffic outside and the faint sound of your own breathing.

“Hey.” His voice was so soft you could almost miss it, not wanting to disturb the peace around you.

“Hey.”

“What’re you doing up?” He asked.

You shrugged.

“Couldn’t sleep.” You kept your eyes fixed on the window in front of you.

The view over the city had been one of your favorite parts about this place when you’d first moved here, able to sit and watch thousands of tiny lights flicker through the streets below, each one its own tiny universe.

He sat down next to you, careful not to disturb you. “You wanna talk about it?” He asked, already knowing the likely answer.

“Not really.”

He nodded. He knew you weren’t always comfortable sharing what was going on in your mind. He was the same way, it was part of what had made him feel so at ease with you early on, the two of you understood what it meant to communicate without speaking, through half-smiles and quiet hums of acknowledgement. It was for this same reason that you had also made it easy for him to open up, to let the mask fall and show his vulnerable sides.

You had given him a safe place to show his true self, but he noticed that you held back from doing the same, at least in full.

You had told him a bit about your struggles, about the shadows that haunted you, clinging and lurking close, no matter how hard you tried to ignore their cold, clammy grip, waiting to pull you down at the first sign of weakness, but you had tried to protect him from the worst of it. You hadn’t wanted him to know about the days when they won, when you could barely drag yourself from your bed, when everything seemed to fade out as if viewed through fogged glass, close enough to see and hear, but never able to make full contact, the warmth never able to sink in.

The first few times it happened you had tried to hide it, saying you just weren’t feeling well or that you were busy or whatever else was fague enough to sound convincing, at least to you, but Jin was far from clueless.

He’d noticed how tired you were sometimes, the distant look in your eyes, but he hadn’t wanted to pressure you to talk about things you weren’t ready to share yet, you’d only been dating a few months after all, but after your third day of single sentence texts, he couldn’t take it anymore. He’d shown up at your door with food and an overnight bag and the statement that he refused to leave you to suffer on your own.

A statement that had turned into a promise.

“The flowers have started to bloom.” Your voice almost startled him, pulling him from his thoughts.

“I noticed.” He said, watching you attentively.

“It’s spring.”

It’s a simple statement, but Jin understood its underlying meaning. Another winter passed, another year survived.

His hand came to rest over yours where it brushed over the faded marks of the past, reminders of the storms you weathered before and survived.

You’d been through enough autumns, waiting to wither away like the leaves around you, that you had started to believe that they didn’t faze you anymore, until you noticed the tremble in your hands as he held you, reminding you that you were still very much connected to this world.

Do you ever regret it?” You stared down at your intertwined hands, the way his fit so neatly over your own.

“Never.” He said without a moment’s hesitation, with a certainty that you feel reverberate in your chest.

“Even when I’m like this?”

“Especially when you're like this.” He said, leaning closer to lend you some of his warmth.

“Why?”

“Because, you’re worth fighting for.”

“I don’t feel like it.”

“You are to me.”

You still struggled to believe it, but that was his truth. If he could, he would go into battle for you, fight till his hands were ragged and bloodied to protect you from the things that hurt you, from the thoughts that ambushed you and tried to lure you away in the middle of the night.

But he knew he couldn’t fight this battle for you, not entirely, but he did the best he could to help you, to arm yourself against the darkness. He gave you his time, his strength, his patience, his love. He would give you everything he could think of, until he feels you revive, until you win.

“Thank you.” He said softly, bringing his face to rest against the juncture between your neck and shoulder, breathing you in.

“For what?” You ask, staring out at the ocean of lights spread below you.

“For staying, even when it was hard." He said. "For fighting for yourself, and for us.”

You said nothing, squeezing his hand as the tears you’ve been fighting back finally began to slip down your face.

He pulled you closer, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek as he wiped your face.

“You’re gonna be okay.”

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho @a-gayish-unicorn @dfqcsqueen @mother2monsters

[naomi-nana]

🍓 :: traitors

a/n : it has been long since I last write any fanfics here lmaoo but anyw who cares pls pls pls i know this is cringe pls dont hate me for this snmahsjahshs

SUMMARRY dazai hates traitors, yet somehow ended up becoming one.

dazai x fem!reader

warnings: gun(obv), mentions of blood, killing, mafias and stuff related to it.

HUGEE THANK YOU FOR 25 FOLLOWERS!<3

"Dazai-san, i think that's enough. that filthy traitor is already dead." dazai stopped firing the gun he was holding, and looked at the woman beside him.

"[Name]-san, traitors are supposed to be killed, tortured, and died in a brutal way since they have betrayed us the mafias and themselves." the woman then perked up when dazai finishes his sentence.

"themselves? how so?"

"when joining the mafia, i'm pretty sure you know that you are making a promise to the boss and the port mafia itself. which means they are betraying their own promises by trying to leave the mafia, which is a stupid attempt."

"I remember, someone who said the exact same thing to me 10 years ago. though they ended up leaving me alone." said the woman beside him.

"Well, maybe this world has other plans for me and you. All we could do is just to follow them, we can't reject or change fates, right?"

"that's...unusual for you to say. i thought you were just someone with a handsome face who is obsessed with dying." said the woman smiling at him.

Dazai blushed slightly at her statement, "I mean the obsessed with dying one is true though." The woman laughed at his words, followed by dazai.

.

.

For Dazai, that night was probably the night where he felt most alive. Accompanied with his partner in crimes. that was a really great day for him. Maybe, he thought, one day he would want to just live peacefully with his partner. Not as a friend, or work partner, but as his wife.

...

or so he thought.

.

.

"Dazai-san, why..are you doing this? You told me yourself, you despise traitors the most, right?.." dazai looked back at the helpless woman behind him with cold eyes.

"[Name]-san, people can change. People can come and go. And you can't change it, after all, the world has plans for us all." Dazai walked away from the woman who is on the verge of death.

"I'm sorry. Maybe we will meet in another life where you don't have to suffer for my doings."

hello, author here! i apologize if anyone has already made the same exact fanfic before me. i probably do not know of it. if you've made the same exact fanfic as mine, please dm me if you want me to take it down.

© property of naomi-nana, do not plagiarize.

[snifflesthemouse]

Final Post before I go... to remind some of you exactly who this author is...

I am a recovering addict who has almost a decade clean and serene. I know, without a doubt, I am a HORRIBLE wretched human being. I lived with a narcissistic murder/psychopath before prison, and then I lived with all kinds of them IN PRISON. I walked past meaner, more dangerous people to go poop or shower than anyone behind a screen here. I have lived life. I'm nowhere near a narcissist. You have no idea who I actually am, you only see what I construct for you to see to protect my own identity.

Saying I am a narc because people are having trouble following my very long, drawn out posts is stupid. Clarification isn't indicative of being a narc. So literally every single YT channel or anyone wanting to find a different medium for further clarification is a narc then? I think not. I think most of you pick up words and repeat them without thinking of the true connotation of the word's meaning

Really, right now, I am just thinking out loud to myself about why I am attracting dumb people here all of a sudden.

Calling me names, calling any person like me names, only makes me laugh. It's cute to me. When people call me names or say things like they have some authority... it only shows me their water levels... and boy the drought is upon us!

When you've spent the first two decades of your life conning people and putting thousands of dollars up your nose or in a vein, you get to know people. Truly see the worst society has to offer. My cellie in prison stabbed her best friend 72 times. 72. We ate lunch every day together. She was a narc.

OH, FYI... A water level is someone's mental capacity in the con world. I embrace critically thinking people who can form a thought and express it without being like me deep down inside. If you are NOT like me, you are a good person. I am not a good person. DUH.

Deep down inside, I want to show my true colors. I want to be nasty. I want to skulldrag people sometimes. I don't though, because the old ways bring back the old me. I've worked too hard in the real world and I know my real world worth.

I don't owe anything to anyone. I try to be nice and not read the comments, or even my messages. But eff all that.

If you think for one second I am not aware of how terrible a person I was, you are stupid. I know better than you all could ever...

If you feel the need to say something rude, think twice. Please. I won't be held responsible for what comes off my keyboard next if you bring it to me first.

Let's just say I've said it all about myself at least 10x as bad before and 10x worse. I've said it MANY TIMES BEFORE but it seems people are too lazy to get a clue before commenting anymore.

I DON'T WANT YOU CRAPPY READERS AS BAD AS YOU CRAPPY READERS DON'T WANT THIS CRAPPY WRITER. So GTFOH.

That is all, folks.

Well, not really... Truth is I write things, I post them and walk off and live. I took my drug addiction and turned it into an empire where I am retired. I don't make money here. I've never once received shit, even though people quote my work all the fucking time. Funny. What's even funnier is how you can post real shit with real proof and people still be like "WhAt DoEs It MeAn?!?" They believe dumb shit about fucking reptiles but not common sense logic or real proof. I don't want fucking morons around me or on my page. If that statement bothers you... go ahead and block me. I don't block people because I don't ever read anything from hardly anyone else. I read a few blogs I Know and trust. But that's it.

I used to care that this blog was growing. That it had thousands of followers. That I still to this day haven't been able to follow everyone back because of the limits daily. I used to think being nice and just ignoring the rude people was the thing to do, because hey at least they read and you made them think... that's all an author wants. Readers to think... harder, differently, whatever. JUST FUCKING THINK.

SO yeah... do with that what you will. Because this author will continue to do whatever the fuck this mouse wants. This mouse isn't like some Yter or some blogger begging for cuppas and tips. I got cash, and I got ass. I don't get shit for shit. It is my hobby. I'd get it if one of yall paid a motherfucking bill sometime. I might listen. But I do bad all by myself.

DONE

[walker-extended-universe]

Do I?

My WIndy submission for Walkerverse Hiatus Creations

Week 2- Favorite Ship

If you've been following my blog at all since Walker: Independence aired, you should know that Hoyt/Lucia is my ride or die for this show. I love both of these darlings and I think they make an excellent pairing despite Hoyt's missteps in their relationship. In 1x07, it looked like Hoyt was going to be making an effort to be more stable and supportive of Lucia and her mother, and I hope that holds true for the rest of this season.

In the meantime, I've written a little drabble. It's sort of missing scene, sort of wishlist. Enjoy!

Title: Do I?

Summary: Following Francis Reyes' death, Hoyt has a question for Lucia.

“Will you marry me?”

Lucia froze, hands hovering over the sudsy water as her brain tried to process what her ears had just heard. It couldn’t be. Hoyt wasn’t that kind of man, as much as she might have wanted him to be. There was no way he’d just propose like that…. Would he? “I…. What?”

“I haven’t talked to your Mom yet because I wanted to talk it over with you first,” he said, walking over and resting his hands on her waist. He leaned in and rested his chin on her shoulder, his lips brushing her cheek as he continued. “I wanted to make sure you knew I wasn’t just asking you because of everything that happened. I mean, that’s all related to the timing of it but I really do want this. I want to marry you. I want to be your husband. I want to spend the rest of my life taking care of you. I want you to know you can trust me to be here for you. I want to have kids with you and be the father I never had. I want this with you more than anything else in the world. So: will you marry me?”

“Hoyt…” Lucia wasn’t sure how to respond. She’d wanted to hear him ask her that for so long…. But was this really the way she wanted it to happen? Even if Hoyt said it wasn’t just because of the situation her family was in, she knew he would never have proposed otherwise. And as much as she might have wanted to hear it before, did she really want to accept it now?

Or did she even have a choice? She knew Papa left the land to her and her mother but it’s not like they could run the ranch alone. There were horses and cattle to care for, fences to mend, hands to pay, not to mention upkeep on the house. It was a job for more than two people, especially when they were grieving. Having someone like Hoyt around would be a big help, especially when it came to the business side of things.

And maybe she really did want this. For all of Hoyt’s flaws, she’d never loved anyone other than him. Calian was nice, as were many other ranch bos, but Hoyt had always had a way of making her feel alive, like she could do anything, like she didn’t just have to bend to her parents’ will. He had a fire in him, a wild spirit like a horse that not even her father could tame. That was what made him so special to her. But would it be right to tie him down like this? 

“I don’t need an answer right now,” he said gently. “I know there’s a lot going on. But I want to be here for you, to help you and your mama out. I just want you to know my help isn’t a temporary thing. I’m in this for the long haul, however you’ll have me.”

Lucia sighed and turned around in Hoyt’s arms, settling her hands on his shoulders. She needed to say something but she didn’t know how to put all her stampeding thoughts into coherent statements. “Hoyt… I… I don’t know. I want….” She sighed and laid her head against his chest.

“I know. I know.” Hoyt wrapped her in a hug, one hand coming up to stroke her hair. “Just think about it. And whatever your answer is, I’m not going anywhere.”

Lucia melted against him, taking the comfort while she still had the chance. There was so much to do still. There was a funeral to arrange. She needed to contact their family outside of Independence. She needed to settle payments for the ranch hands. She needed to check the ranch inventory. She needed to check on her mother. They needed to decide what to do with Papa’s things. But all those tasks, important as they were, seemed small and distant in Hoyt’s arms. If only she could stay there forever…..

[thevintageleather]

Vintage Leather Jacket: Timeless Style or Pre-Loved Puzzle?

The coolness factor of a leather jacket is undeniable. It's a wardrobe staple that screams confidence and individuality. But when it comes to vintage leather jackets, things get a bit more interesting. These jackets aren't just about looking good; they carry a story, a whisper of the past.

But before you dive headfirst into the world of pre-loved leather,  understanding the difference between a "genuine" leather jacket and a vintage bomber jacket is key.

Genuine Leather vs. Vintage Bomber: Decoding the Labels

Let's break it down. "Genuine leather" simply refers to the material – the jacket is made from real animal hide. This doesn't necessarily guarantee top quality, as "genuine" can encompass various leather grades with varying levels of durability and texture.

A vintage bomber jacket, on the other hand, is a specific style of leather jacket.  Think classic "Top Gun" vibes – fitted silhouette, ribbed cuffs and waistband, and a zippered front.  These jackets originated as military apparel for pilots, designed for warmth and functionality.  While many vintage bombers are indeed made of genuine leather, not all leather jackets qualify as vintage bombers.

So, what makes a vintage leather jacket special?

Here's the magic of vintage that goes way beyond just looking effortlessly cool:

Uniqueness: Each jacket whispers a story. Imagine the person who wore it before you – the concerts they rocked, the road trips they embarked on, the memories they made. Vintage jackets aren't churned out by factories in mass quantities. They're individual pieces, each with its own wear pattern and character.  This means you're far less likely to see someone else sporting the exact same jacket, making it a true conversation starter.

Quality Built to Last:  Leather, like a fine wine, gets better with age. Vintage jackets were often crafted from superior quality leather compared to some modern counterparts. This translates to a more durable, thicker material that feels luxurious and molds to your body over time.  The natural imperfections, like slight variations in color or texture, aren't flaws – they're badges of authenticity, adding a touch of rugged charm.

Sustainable Style Statement:  Fast fashion is a major contributor to textile waste.  By choosing pre-loved clothing, you're making a conscious decision to be more eco-friendly. You're giving a perfectly good jacket a second life, reducing the demand for new leather production and its environmental impact. It's a win-win for your wardrobe and the planet!

A Touch of History:  Vintage leather jackets can be a tangible connection to the past.  Imagine owning a jacket that might have been worn during a specific era – a piece of clothing that could have witnessed historical events or cultural movements. It adds a layer of depth and intrigue to your outfit, making it more than just a jacket – it's a conversation starter.

Investment Piece:  High-quality vintage leather jackets can appreciate in value over time, especially rare styles or ones from iconic brands.  So, not only are you getting a unique and stylish piece, but you might also be making a wise investment.

The Hunt for the Perfect Vintage Leather Jacket: Your Treasure Map

Congratulations! You've decided to join the ranks of the cool and embrace the timeless style of a vintage leather jacket. But where do you even begin your search for this coveted piece? Fear not, fashion adventurer – here's your detailed treasure map to unearth the perfect vintage leather jacket:

Thrift Stores and Vintage Shops:  Consider these your personal style El Dorados! Thrift stores and dedicated vintage shops are the holy grail for vintage finds. Be prepared to spend some quality time sifting through racks, but the reward is unmatched – a one-of-a-kind jacket at a fraction of the price. Here's the bonus tip: thrift stores often rotate their stock, so if you strike out on your first visit, don't be discouraged! Make it a regular haunt and eventually, your perfect leather treasure will reveal itself.

Become a Vintage Online Sleuth:  The internet offers a vast treasure trove of vintage clothing stores and platforms like Etsy. Here, you can browse a wider selection from the comfort of your couch, filtering by size, style, and even brand. However, unlike the thrill of the hunt in a physical store, online buying requires a bit more detective work.  Always check seller reviews to ensure their reputation. Don't hesitate to ask detailed questions about the jacket's condition – get photos of any imperfections or areas of wear. Remember, measuring is key! Most online stores will have sizing charts, but if unsure,  measure a well-fitting jacket you already own to ensure a good fit when your vintage find arrives.

Unlocking Hidden Gems: Estate Sales and Garage Sales:  Estate sales and garage sales hold a special charm for the vintage enthusiast. You never know what hidden treasures you might unearth!  These sales often have dedicated sections for clothing, and with a little patience and a keen eye, you might just stumble upon a perfectly preserved vintage leather jacket waiting to be rediscovered.  Pro tip: arrive early at estate sales, as the best finds tend to go quickly.

Beyond the Map: Expanding Your Search Radius:  Don't limit yourself to the options listed above! Broaden your search by reaching out to friends and family who might have vintage pieces they'd be willing to part with.  Social media groups or forums dedicated to vintage fashion can also be a goldmine for leads. Remember, sometimes the best finds come from unexpected places!

Beyond the Look: Sizing Up Your Vintage Find - A Vintage Leather Jacket's Report Card

You've unearthed a potential treasure – a vintage leather jacket that catches your eye. But before you fall head over heels for its style, there's some crucial detective work to be done. Here's how to give your vintage find a thorough examination and ensure it becomes a cherished addition to your wardrobe, not a regrettable impulse buy:

Condition Check: Examining the Leather's Story

Treat your vintage leather jacket like a historical artifact – a piece with a past.  While minor imperfections add character, extensive wear and tear can significantly impact its lifespan and functionality. Here's what to scrutinize:

Rips and Tears:  Small nicks or scrapes can tell a story, but avoid jackets with gaping holes or tears that compromise the leather's integrity. Repairs are possible, but depending on the size and location, they can be costly and affect the overall look.

Zipper Blues:  A functional zipper is essential. Check if the zipper glides smoothly and all the teeth are intact.  Replacing a broken zipper can be tricky and expensive, so a malfunctioning one might be a dealbreaker.

Button Bonanza:  Make sure all the buttons are securely fastened and none are missing.  Missing buttons can be replaced, but finding a perfect match might be a challenge, especially for older or unique styles.

Lining Check-Up:  The jacket's lining offers valuable clues about its age and overall condition. Look for rips, tears, or excessive wear.  A ripped lining can be repaired, but extensive damage might indicate the jacket has reached the end of its lifespan.

Fit for a King (or Queen): The Vintage Sizing Puzzle

Vintage clothing can be a delightful adventure, but sizing can be a tricky business.  Unlike modern labels with standardized sizing, vintage sizes might not directly translate. Here's how to ensure your jacket fits like a dream:

Embrace the Try-On:  Whenever possible, try on the jacket before you buy it. This is the best way to assess the fit and comfort level.  Ideally, the jacket should allow for layering without feeling too restrictive, and the sleeves should reach your wrists comfortably.

Measure Up:  If a try-on isn't possible, grab your measuring tape and become a vintage sizing detective.  Most online retailers will have sizing charts for their vintage items.  Measure a well-fitting jacket you already own (chest, shoulders, length) and compare those measurements to the provided size chart to estimate how the vintage jacket will fit.

The Leather Lowdown: Feeling the Material's Story

Real leather has a distinct look and feel. It should be soft and supple, with a natural grain (the surface texture). Here's how to spot the difference between genuine leather and its less durable cousin:

The Touch Test: Gently pinch the leather. Real leather should wrinkle slightly and then bounce back. Faux leather might feel stiff or have a plasticky texture.

The Sniff Test: Give the jacket a good sniff. Genuine leather has a pleasant, earthy smell. Faux leather might have a chemical odor.

Beyond the Basics: A Keen Eye for Vintage Details

While condition, fit, and material are crucial, there's more to consider when evaluating a vintage leather jacket. Here are some additional details that can add value and character to your find:

Hardware: Look for buckles, zippers, and buttons that complement the jacket's style and age. Unique or branded hardware can add a touch of history and value.

Stitching: Inspect the stitching throughout the jacket. Neat and even stitching indicates quality craftsmanship.

Patches or Embellishments: Patches or embellishments can tell a story about the jacket's past owner or a certain era. See them as conversation starters, not necessarily flaws. In conclusion, a vintage leather jacket is more than just clothing; it's a piece with a history, a conversation starter, and potentially a wise investment. With the right know-how and a little detective work, you can find the perfect pre-loved leather jacket to add timeless style and a touch of individuality to your wardrobe.

[saviorfoxowlis]

N:Era: Where We Lie Finale Part 8: Piece of Cake

A box sat between Cyras and Daybreak, attached to them with nodes and modules. Everyone stared at the stage, as Cyras explained, "So here are the rules: If you tell a lie, you get shocked with a million volts."

Daybreak shrugged and said, "Oh, I am insanely truthful."

"Great, let's begin," Cyras said. "Since I challenged, I'll go first. Tell me, why did you make this machine?"

Daybreak said, "Well that's hardly a true or false question. Ahem, I mostly made this machine because I thought this would benefit the kingdom. The empire really." Smirking, he kept measured breaths. Practicing meditation hid his lies as truths.

"Now your turn, Cyras. Why don't you explain why you faced me in this game?"

"Because you're a liar who's scamming people."

Daybreak blinked at how blatant she was. "I'm not a liar..."

Cyras asked, "So Daybreak, how about you tell me what makes this machine accurate?"

"The machine goes based on biometrics, such as heart rate, sweat, and nervousness."

"So someone could be nervous and this would still trigger the machine even if they weren't lying. Or vice versa."

"You only get one question," Daybreak said.

"That wasn't a question; that was a statement," Cyras said, saying a semicolon for authoritative effect.

"Okay, well here's my question, is this true that you're a Wilder?"

"Yes."

"So maybe someone like you shouldn't expect that you would know how a machine like this works when you barely know how any technology works."

"I don't need to know how to operate technology when I know Orch who can work a videotape," Cyras said, as Orch carted in a television.

Daybreak's eye ridges furrowed as Orch came with a tape, which he inserted through a slot. He pressed play but said, "Oh right," and he pressed the rewind button.

A couple of wolves looked at their watches.

Orch pressed play.

"I don't care if a bunch of morons are getting scammed. This is me getting back at everyone in the world who has spat on me. Engineers like me, tech developers, creators, are the future. The rest of you are simply nipping at my heels. Yes, the lie detectors are faker than a politician's promise, but you better believe I would rip off everyone here a dozen times if that means progress. You can refuse to join me, but think of that as your loss."

Cyras ripped off her nodes before winking at him. "Gotcha."

Daybreak began ripping off the nodes, trying to escape a million volts. "You turned on me, Orch!"

"I mean, there's a security camera in the shop," Orch said with a shrug.

Lightning was instantaneous. "I haven't been shocked yet." Daybreak thought he was safe until he saw the sparking fur of Empress Owlis.

"Goodbye, Daybreak," Owlis said.

A bolt of divine lightning rained down. The screaming began as the audience, even Orch, glared. However, after the first few flashes, Orch raised an eye ridge, and his mouth went slightly agape in increasing horror. Lilu and Rosod held out longer but soon became just as shocked. Not as literally.

At the last flash, Cyras said, "Wow, that burnt smell makes me think of barbecue. Let's get going for some of them meats!"

The audience kept murmuring.

Cyras rolled her eyes and stood at the podium. "Excuse me, I have something to say."

Silence fell.

"I know a lot of you are afraid of the events you've seen transpire today and you don't know who you can trust. You were given objectivity where there was none, light where there was only dark. However, no one can tell you the truth.

"Whether you know this or not, you're all big fat liars. You lie all the time. I have a friend who is telling me all these Owlis stories, I have one friend who said her mom called her fat, and her mom says 'oh I approached her peacefully' when we all know you didn't."

Jazmyn and Lilu's eyes bulged.

"I have one friend who faked a field trip permission slip."

Rosod's parents glared at her as she said, "Oh, thanks Cyras."

"Even if I showed you a recording, you would all have different interpretations of those events. We omit stuff when we tell stories from our perspectives. Maybe my friend's mother isn't being mean, maybe she just raised her voice instead of yelled. There is no objectivity, besides the fact that I am objectively disgusted by your objectively horrible dresses. Stop dressing up and stop trusting in technology blindly and act like you have some DOGDANG sense!"

Cyras dropped the microphone for effect. However, the crackling fray startled her, shot her fur up in different directions and she bolted away.

Owlis got in Cyras' way, but she jumped at her. A coywolf in the audience shot mocha-colored waves at the younger fox.

Owlis still scooped her up, slam on tailbone. Cyras dropped on her back, but despite her legs shooting out like lightning bolts, she got slapped away. A punch flew but got knocked back with a headbutt.

Cyras twisted back onto her feet and Owlis jumped up for the arm drag out of instinct.

But the smaller fox hadn't come at her, so Owlis stumbled over herself, as Cyras jumped on the back of her skull. The strategy throughout the game was double-pronged: Cyras had been getting her to expect a particular sequence of events, only that they would get quicker, then the girl threw a curveball of the script.

Owlis ate grass and spat out some lawn.

"So looks like I really am two steps ahead." Ah, so that's why she went with those lyrics.

"Good work, Cyras," Owlis said. "Admittedly, you finally caught me off-guard, with the help of your criminal friend over there." She pointed over at a coywolf who was slinking through the crowd without avail.

Ahmond said, "Oh no."

***

Ahmond approached the giant door of Owlis' palace, and Maypol opened the door. As the heavy wooden oak shifted away, Ahmond saw the terminal of despair, the heaviest of horrors. A room that was mostly purple walls and furniture, with marble windowsills. In fact, the curtains fluttered against the windows which shone the light in.

She saw the bed and saw the weapon—the heavy wooden paddle.

"Owlis, we can talk about this. We're actually getting more money tomorrow and I don't think we should do this-"

"You smashed my guard's face in and nearly knocked out her tooth, you scammed me, and you stole from me. You stole from my people," Owlis said as she leered at her. "So no, you're not getting away."

At the first recognizable sign of retreat, Owlis prevented her scampering by lifting Ahmond up and slamming her on the floor. Dazed, Ahmond staggered and stumbled, until Owlis threw her over the very soft bed.

Actually, this was pretty nice and the linens smelled like roses.

Owlis bit down on the paddle, and stood on her hind legs. Ahmond tensed up in preparation.

"You know," Owlis said, taking some time for a stroll. "I remember my first spanking, so I've seen this type of fear before. My mother was quite the woman, and there was a lot of whining and screaming, as whack after whack fell, like cannons going off. After an apology, I finally put the paddle away."

Ahmond screwed her eyes shut and tried avoiding the attention of the furious Maypol in the corner.

Owlis stretched out, and Ahmond could hear the wind and felt something brush near her rear fur.

"Just taking a quick practice stroke. Usually, I'm not the one performing these, but you've definitely made a little special exception for yourself. Okay, I think now we're ready."

Maypol bit down on Ahmond's tail and yanked up while keeping a paw on the backs of her shoulders.

Owlis stood as tall as she could, paddle in her mouth then swung as true as she could, as quick.

The slap resounded as did a yelp.

However, Ahmond felt no pain as she heard the paddle fall with a thud, as Maypol stood over Owlis.

"Are you okay, Imperial Majesty!?" Maypol asked. Ahmond turned her head enough she could see the bright red bruise on the side of Owlis' face. The paddle bounced off.

Ahmond blushed, horrified at how she hurt the Empress.

"GET OUT OF HERE!" Owlis shouted at Ahmond.

Ahmond ducked and rushed out the doors.

Owlis' face softened as Lilu came out from underneath the bed. She exploded with laughter. "Now she will learn way better than saying I'm fat."

"That was morally wrong," Owlis said. "However, that was hilarious. Now I need my money."

Lilu rolled her eyes and slapped the cash on her paw with authority.

"Also need some more for the fact she uppercut my guard and cleaned her clock so well the fourteenth hour was shining."

"Yeah, of course," Lilu said.

"I must say, the toy was quite accurate."

Lilu nodded. "Yeah- wait, the toy that Ahmond mentioned with the little yellow marks, that is real?"

"I anticipated all of you would be causing problems so I made sure I got some practice out of the way first," Owlis said. "Also I could always sell them if you ever become villains, so others can whack you in effigy. Anyway, I hope your mother has gotten over herself."

"I, uh, yeah, so I'm leaving now."

Owlis said, "Please make sure you send Cyras up."

After Lilu exited, Cyras entered Owlis' lair before saying, "So... Guess I saved the day."

"Indeed you did, Cyras. Sometimes bureaucracy gets in the way of justice, which isn't something I like admitting."

Cyras shrugged. "I think the speech I gave startled everyone and now they're more uneasy than before. In some way, I feel like I hurt them and I wonder whether we should leave others in ignorance or knowledge." She saw streamers falling, outside the window.

"Cyras, I thought of you as amoral. I didn't think you have a sense of moral compunctions or right or wrong, just survival. Yet, you are honest," Owlis said as she came by her side, standing over her. "You clear the way in the dark. Well, perhaps you're deceptive when you would really rather want something." She gave a slight grin.

"I don't like the idea of others not knowing the truth, but what's the point in clearing the way if I don't bring hope or happiness?"

"Birds can't fly in cages," Owlis told her.

"I'd like some birds, like cluck-clucks," Cyras said.

"Oh yes, that just made me realize that your credit card is being very misused in a very unpleasant way. So let me see that."

Cyras said, "Totally understandable." She handed the plastic card over as Owlis ripped the card up. The red fox turned away when Owlis put a paw on her shoulders.

"Oh, I hope you don't think you're getting away with helping Ahmond throughout the entire debacle."

Cyras took a step back while Owlis took a step forward. "Time for your birthday spanks."

***

The girls met again on Tritos 22, one day after Cyras' birthday. All sat at their favorite log at Summer's Meadow, however, Cyras limped slightly.

"So how is everyone?" Cyras asked.

Rosod said, "Grounded. Until my parents can't remember why I was grounded in the first place."

Ahmond said, "Uh, well, hurting."

Lilu shook her head at Cyras. "Just gazing in your eyes, my lovely."

Ahmond noted, "Smooth."

Cyras said, "Anyway, so we caused civil unrest, fried a lizard, and finished a mission of Team N:Era. Hopefully, we get paid because Owlis ripped up my credit card."

"Wait, yeah, we should have been paid," Ahmond said, "that would have been lovely two weeks ago."

"Can we all appreciate the fact that none of this would have happened without Ahmond," Lilu said.

Rosod nodded. "Yes, she's the root of all evil."

"Yup," Cyras said with a nod.

"I am not the root of all evil!" Ahmond said as she rested her cheek on her paw. Gazing over at Lilu, she mumbled, "Sorry."

"Huh?"

"I'm sorry for calling you fat, Lilu," Ahmond said.

"What's bringing this up?"

"I uh, well." Ahmond wasn't mentioning her backstage pass in the palace which ended with her backstage area. "I think I should have apologized earlier. Also, I think being a pudgy puppy can be a good thing, in some cases, even if society doesn't quite agree with us."

Lilu raised a brow. "In that case, you'll be partaking in the cake." She pulled up a pink box and opened up, revealing a green cake.

Cyras' eyes lit up as she read the letters, which were, in perfect bright red cursive, "Happy Birthday Cyras Sumhyr." Little frosting clumps were every couple of inches apart. Even better, the smell of ginger arose.

As Cyras' eyes met Lilu, Lilu told her, "Happy birthday, Cyras."

"I don't know what to say," Cyras said, as she reclined back.

"I know your birthday didn't go exactly how you wanted, so I may have arranged for a party just amongst us," Lilu said with a shrug.

Ahmond said, "I am amazed, Lilu. You've never been this thoughtful with me."

Rosod said, "Or me, and I've known you longer."

"Well you two should be better," Lilu said, but quickly got a lick from Cyras, on her nose.

Everyone settled down as they began singing, however, Cyras began eating. Lilu smiled gently.

Ahmond's Theme: I Am a Castle

If you lean on me

You'll see a world you couldn't see.

You who bear a crown

I stand a castle in your ground

Build and Fortify

Legacy of my family.

All I was promised

The world belonged to the meek

Cast out for the sun

A wave of coffee adrenalized the weak

I am the thunder,

Voice of lightning's wrath and rage

I am the cold wind

the whisper of the winter's sage.

If you lean on me

You'll see a world you couldn't see.

You who bear a crown

I stand a castle in your ground

Build and Fortify

Legacy of my family.

[laxuscouldnever]

Stiles Stilinski x Wheelchair!Reader

Stiles slowly made his way down the hospital halls. His boyfriend, Y/N had gotten into a pretty serious... "car"accident and had been hospitalized for a couple days. Stiles had been away for about a week, so this was the first time he was able to visit Y/N.

Room 238, room 238, Stiles repeated in his head. Every number he looked at made him more and more anxious about what he would find once he got to Y/N's room. 

Stiles stopped walking as he reached the room. The door was closed and the blinds in the window were down. If he wanted to see what was inside, he would have to go in. Stiles reached for the door handle and let it rest there for a moment. Did he really want to know how bad it was? What if Y/N had lost a limb? Or maybe had burns somewhere on his body?

Stiles took a deep breath and slowly turned the handle.

A nurse was helping Y/N into a wheelchair. The noise of the door opening caught the attention of both Y/N and the nurse. 

"Hey..." Stiles said shyly. Y/N gave him a soft smile.

Y/N had really missed Stiles. He felt a little guilty because he hadn't contacted Stiles since he woke up and knowing his boyfriend, he knew that Stiles was worrying as much as he could. 

"I'll leave you two alone," the nurse said and left. 

"How are you feeling?" Stiles asked nervously. 

"My head doesn't hurt as much as before, so that's a plus. They want me to stay in this wheelchair for 3 weeks until my legs are ready for physical therapy," Y/N explained.

Stiles sighed, relieved that the wheelchair wasn't a permanent thing.

"So, I doubt a car accident is what actually happened knowing what goes on around here. What actually happened?" Stiles asked.

"Werewolf, obviously. I went out for a jog and he attacked me. He crushed my legs. I think he was gonna kill me, but a group of guys found me before he did. I didn't recognize him either," Y/N said. 

"Don't worry, I'll call Scott and make sure that bastard has his legs removed." Y/N giggled.

"You're so cute when you try to be scary." Stiles felt his face heat up. 

"H-Hey! I'm scary. Just because I'm not a werewolf doesn't mean I'm not scary," Stiles said, crossing his arms. 

"You know, I feel kind of guilty," Y/N said, changing the mood.

"Why's that?" Stiles said, his voice softening immediately. 

"Well...I-I don't know. I wish I would've been able to take care of myself so I wouldn't have to worry everyone when I get hurt. And now for 3 weeks, and possibly even more, I'm gonna be so high maintenance. It makes me feel...pathetic," Y/N said, his voice faltering every once in a while.

Stiles stood there in silence, in complete shock that the person he loved more than anything was feeling bad for something he couldn't control. He didn't know what to say to make Y/N feel better.

"Sorry, that totally brought down the mood. I shouldn't have said anything." Y/N quickly took back his statement and tried to push it away. 

"Please don't feel like that. It's not your fault that you got attacked. How were suppose to take care of something like that? Werewolves are strong. You're human. No one expects you to be as strong as someone like Scott or Derek. Don't think you're pathetic just because you can't fight off a werewolf of all things."

Y/N didn't respond. He had went so long thinking the opposite. He wanted to believe Stiles, he really did, but something in him was telling him that it wasn't true. 

"You're smart, way smarter than most people. You've helped everyone so many times, in the human world and the werewolf world. You are so much more than you think and I won't give up until you believe that as much as everyone else does." Stiles knelt down in front of Y/N and grabbed his hand. 

"I love you, Y/N. Never forget that." Stiles leaned over and placed a soft, slow kiss on Y/N's lips. Y/N reciprocated it immediately. 

"I love you, too, Stiles," Y/N said once they pulled away. Stiles gave Y/N a soft smile and stood up. 

"Now, everyone is waiting for you at my house, so we're gonna go there and have a good time. Movies, food, you name it." Stiles took a hold of the handles on the back of the wheelchair and began pushing Y/N through the halls. 

"How fast do you think I can run while pushing you?" Stiles leaned down and whispered in Y/N's.

"Don't even think about it, Stilinski," Y/N warned. Stiles chuckled. 

"Alright, alright. But once you're out of this thing, I'm taking it for a spin myself."

[beels-burger-babe]

Familial Attachments

***Awwwww, I'm so happy that you're enjoying my blog! This request warms my heart and I am WEAK for soft big brother Lucifer. I hope you enjoy @lorkai! - B*** Summary: MC keeps favouring Lucifer. It baffles the other brothers. Lucifer is intrigued by the behaviour and slowly begins to open up to them.

No one really noticed it when you first arrived. You were new to the Devildom, and so much was foreign and scary around you. So you following orders without question and lingering near Lucifer, the strongest of the demons living with you, could've been passed off as a survival technique. But after a few months of you staying in the House of Lamentation, Lucifer thought the initial fear would wear off, and yet you still continued to follow him around like a little duckling. Still, Lucifer hadn't really clued in that there was perhaps sentiment behind your behaviour until he had walked in on a discussion between you, Mammon, Beelzebub and Leviathan. He had approached your bedroom door and raised his fist to knock when he heard Mammon's annoyingly loud voice. "I'm just sayin'! There ain't no reason for you go followin' mean old Lucifer around like that! He's old. He complains a lot. He never has any fun. You should be spendin' time with me! I'm supposed to be your protector ya know!" Lucifer huffed in annoyance and was about to barge in when he heard your giggle. "I'm hanging out with you now, aren't I?" "I don't know MC. I can't believe I'm saying this, but Mammon has a point." Levi pipped in. At this point, Lucifer cracked open the door and peeked inside. You were sitting in Beel's lap as he munched away on a bowl of popcorn. Mammon was standing, punching harshly onto the buttons of the remote he was holding, while Levi sat playing with the ease and skill of the pro-gamer that he was. He didn't even look away from the screen as he spoke to you. Lucifer made a mental note to talk to him about conversation manners. Leviathan continued. "You're always hanging around Lucifer. You only spend time with us if we specifically ask you to, or if we arrange it ahead of time," Levi shifted uncomfortably as he pressed a button on his remote; Mammon cursed as a result. "I-I-Is he your favourite or something?" Lucifer couldn't help but perk at the question. He wasn't aware that you were spending particularly more time with him than the others. Sure, he noticed that you would listen to him much better than any of his brothers ever did (and that alone made him warm up to you), and you always seemed to smile when he was around. But he thought that was just the kind of person you were; happy and compliant. Much to his, and everyone in the room's, surprise, you nodded. "I guess he is." Chaos erupted inside the room.

Beel dropped his popcorn. Levi sputtered and actually looked away from the game to gape at you. Mammon threw his remote and whipped around to face you. "WHAT?!?! You mean you prefer that old bat to the GREAT MAMMON?!?!" to Mammon's defence, he looked genuinely hurt by the confession. "But I'm your first! I thought we were pals, MC?!" Levi tensed and sniffed before turning back at the game. "I'm not that surprised really. Makes sense that you wouldn't l-like a slimy gross otaku like me." Beel remained frozen and quiet. A frown etched on his face as his hands tightened around you. Your eyes widened at everyone's reactions. "Woah, woah, woah! Who said anything about not liking you guys? I love hanging out with you three, and I do see you as my friends," you looked directly at Levi. "Otaku or not. I treasure my time with you." Levi pouted and refused to look at you. "Then what does Lucifer have that we don't? Why does he get the title of your favourite?" Lucifer was shocked to see your expression soften as you smiled gently at just the thought. "He reminds me of my big brother in the human realm," everyone went quiet and looked at you. "I-It was hard being ripped away from everything I knew and be forced to live in a world that I didn't even know existed. When I saw Lucifer and got to know him a bit, I noticed how much he acted like my brother. It was comforting to have just that little bit of familiarity amongst all the chaos of the Devildom, you know?" The eldest brother's heart warmed at the statement. It stroked his pride in the best way possible. He loved his brothers, but none of them were very affectionate with one another with the exception of the twins. To hear that someone cared about him and saw him as an older brother was...touching. His younger brothers seemed to agree as, with a little irritation, they settled back down into their game. Forgetting what he came for, Lucifer smiled and went back to his office. Since that day, he was notably kinder and more vulnerable with you. If you saw him as an older brother then he was determined to be the best older brother you could ask for. He gave you a pat on the shoulder or ruffled your hair every time he saw you. He always made sure to congratulate or acknowledge your accomplishments, no matter how small they were. He asked you how your day was and allowed you to come to him with any troubles (which he would promptly take care of the moment you left the room). Every night he would invite you into his office for some tea and a round of chess before bed. It felt like in no time, he had begun to see you as a little sibling just as much as you saw him as an older brother. Lucifer did his best not to let his brothers catch on to how soft he was around you. He tried to compensate by teasing you a little more whenever they were around. Or pretend that he was taking you into his office to scold you when he really was going to look you over and make sure you weren't hurt in the most recent incident. The result was an endless amount of taunts and ridicule from his brothers on how he was a better sibling to you than he was them (which was mostly true), that you had thawed his ancient icy heart (which he would never admit), and that he couldn't say no to you (which he tried to prove wrong but inevitably failed, much to his embarrassment). Still, the bond between you two was one that was strong and pure. When it was finally time for you to go back to the human realm, you were in tears and refused to let go of Lucifer. Lucifer held onto you tightly. It was obvious to everyone there that he was just as reluctant to let you leave. "You have to go know MC. Your real big brother is up there worried about you, I'm sure," his voice was steady and firm. He refused to cry; no matter how badly his heart ached at that moment. You sniffled and buried your face deeper into his chest. "I know. But you've become just as much a brother to me as him, a-a-and I don't want to leave you. What if I never get to see you again?" Lucifer inhaled sharply at the thought.

He looked over at Diavolo. Something in his eyes must have given away the hurt and inner turmoil he was feeling, for Diavolo's eyes widened in shock before he smiled softly at his friend. "You may take your D.D.D. with you, MC, to stay in contact with the brothers. Perhaps, on occasion, we can also organize visits. This will not be goodbye forever." Lucifer chuckled as you held him tighter and ran a hand through your hair. "See? You'll see me and everyone else again. But for now, it's time for you to return home." You shakily nodded and reluctantly pulled away from his arms; Lucifer felt his chest tighten as coldness filled the warmth where you once stood. Still, he refused to cry or show vulnerability. He would not become a blubbering mess like Mammon. He was better than that. He clenched his fists as you went around giving everyone final hugs goodbye. He held his breath as you picked up the bag the two of you had put together full of keepsakes from the Devildom. You took a step towards the portal. "MC, wait!" Lucifer rushed towards you, damning his own pride and reputation to hell, as he pulled you into one final tight hug and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. He held you there; closing his eyes and allowing himself to pretend for just a moment that he didn't have to let you go. He felt a tear roll down his cheek. "I love you, MC. I will miss having you here." Suddenly you were sobbing again. The two of you held each other for several minutes, as Diavolo had Barbartos escort the others out to give the two of you some privacy. Finally, he let you go, and within a second you were gone and back to your true family. Lucifer went home, and sat in his office, wondering what you were doing with your real big brother and if you were as happy up there as you were with him. ***HOW THE FUCK DID I MAKE THIS ANGST AND END UP CRYING WELL WRITING I AM SO SORRY I SERIOUSLY MEANT FOR THIS BE FLUFF GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!! *Wipes tears* Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this no matter how accidentally painful it was. Thank you for the lovely request @lorkai! I was touched by how personal it was!***

[ialwaysknewyouwerepunk]

fine line - a close reading

gonna cry bc i’m at the end, gonna cry bc it’s fine line.

(x x x)

want to give the same disclaimer as with lights up: this song is so layered, so multi-faceted, that i could never hope to give an exhaustive analysis. due to its vagueness and openness for interpretation, i assume that everyone, just like me, has their own ideas about it and has attached importance to it in ways that no one else’s words can or should alter. this song means the world to me for reasons that aren’t necessarily in this post, and that’s how it is with art that touches us deeply. i’ve tried my best to pull it apart, lay it bare, spread it open, if you will, so it’s almost as free as it can be for you all to form your own opinion on it. in the synthesis i will make my own conclusions, but feel free to ignore that if yours are totally different. i’m just one set of brain and heart taking in fine line and projecting whatever i think is right onto it. alright, let’s go

fine line, track 12

sung in falsetto

live version at the form: first verse not sung in falsetto - after first chorus goes into falsetto - like “thinking of her” has summoned her

live version at the form: first verse not sung in falsetto - after first chorus goes into falsetto - like “thinking of her” has summoned her

Put a price on emotion

pouring emotions into the art you create: how much is genuine / how much do you show - line between being authentic to your audience and giving away too much, wanting to keep things to yourself and not feeling truthful with what you’ve written

exploits of the industry: lay your soul bare - or the exact opposite, some pretend emotion - to score that hit

I'm looking for something to buy

cynical. emotions aren’t genuine, right? where can i go buy some?

～ lights up themes. fake life, industry, being a sell-out

You've got my devotion

But man, I can hate you sometimes

“you” = career, music, Harry Styles™. devoted to the craft, to the job, all the ups and downs of it, despite the hardships it brings 

“man” is deliberate: can be seen as an offhand interjection, like “man, that’s rough”, but nothing is casually placed in this song. “man” is: The Man, the heads in the industry, the people pulling the strings. The man in Harry, the man he’s been in the media all these years, the part he’s played/had to play, the man that’s in him

⟶ “hate you”: hate for industry shit, self-hate created by having to play pretend (～ only angel analysis, the persona of the Bukowski womaniser)

“sometimes” - it’s not fucked up all the time

“you” could also be a lover, but the sudden “hate” there then would be for that person, which is absent in any other song about them, doesn’t make any sense

I don't want to fight you

And I don't want to sleep in the dirt

like there’s a choice to me made, but he doesn’t want to make it: either I fight this “you” or I sleep in the dirt

“you” as the industry: if he doesn’t fight them, he might end up being a beggar, lose all his self-worth bc he gave in to everything they asked/told him to do

“you” as himself: fight your instincts, part of who you are/the persona. if he doesn’t fight to figure himself out, though, he fears he’ll also lose

“sleep in the dirt” as a sense of rejection, as well

We'll get the drinks in

So I'll get to thinking of her

drinks to cope - falling, only angel, from the dining table - or to be braver and confront emotions better - tbsl

who is “we”? who is “her”?

narrative of “you” as “lover” further disproven: if “I” and the lover get together over drinks and “I” starts thinking of “her”?

⟷ “her” could be the lover, but then who is “you”? the industry? some other person, besides that lover, harry is devoted to? multiple lovers, all of a sudden? no.

⟶ “I” and “you” are all harry, that get to thinking of “her” because she is in daydreams with him. the narrative that harry is fighting a part of him, the persona he has (had) to play bc of industry limits, makes most sense. that persona is within him now, and part of his work, but all of him, “we”, is begging to come into the light - of which she is a huge part

We'll be a fine line

balancing act. let everything coexist but pay attention that those lines don’t get crossed the wrong way. what we are, what i am, is a fine line between what makes us go under and what lets us thrive

we will be: determination to fulfil this prophecy, statement of fact “we always will be”

“we’ll be a fine line”: other way of interpreting it is that on both sides of that line is what entails “we”, all that is harry. what merges on that fine line is where it’s just right, when harry is fully himself in every way

“fine line” can also be an echo of criticism, bigotry, in the style of: it’s a fine line between being simply flamboyant and queer, between dressing like that and people thinking you’re a transvestite or summat (cause we wouldn’t want that, now, would we) - “we’ll be a fine line” could be owning all of it. putting himself in the middle of all those messy lines, as someone queer without a category

Test of my patience

patience with himself - kindness to self - took a long time to figure shit out and it was a challenge

waiting for change: industry and its allowances/openness

There's things that we'll never know

my favorite line

“we” = harry / harry and company / us in general, all of us listening 

～ tpwk “i don’t need all the answers”: deep sense of acceptance

peace to be found in accepting this!!

You sunshine, you temptress

“sunshine” - as in all the love songs (blue skies, sunflowers, summer days…): lover - possible that there are multiple “you”s in this song?

sunshine could ofc also be directed at the temptress, still

female “temptress” - “i’ll get to thinking of her” - she - it’s tempting for harry to think of her all the time, to lose himself in the “her” in him

other interpretation for “temptress”: woman he knows with negative influence in his life - resemblance to woman “you flower, you feast”, so echo of Bukowski ～ only angel, kiwi (my sunshine, my love, who is involved with this temptress…)

My hand’s at risk, I fold

⟷ tpwk “dropping into the deep end”

not showing his cards just yet / forfeits

anxious to show all of him, to take the chance, with all the risks and consequences involved

Crisp trepidation

I’ll try to shake this soon

nervousness, anxiety - about (not) taking (enough) chances, (not) laying himself bare (release of the album that reveals much more than before)

“crisp” fresh, this feeling is unfamiliar - change is coming “soon”

sense of agency: I can get rid of this feeling by my own volition and make these changes - hesitant, insecure: “try”

wants to be braver. he’s not going back, but still needs to calmly coax himself further and further into the light, out into the open (“we’ll be alright”)

Spreading you open

Is the only way of knowing you

(can anyone else hear “spread thin” like a whisper under “spreading”? or am i imagining things.)

“you” is back - the only way of knowing “you” is to spread them open - the physical

to spread someone open - very literal, don’t need to paint the picture, or to lay bare, to lay it all out 

⟶ “you” as himself - the only way of knowing who i am is by doing this: writing this album, performing these songs, letting others listen in and form their own interpretations, let this world grow where i’m laid bare and OPEN and exist as this person who has issues, who is angry, who doesn’t know who he is a lot of the time, but is still so happy to be here - let it spread and let it all circle back to me so i can grow deeper into myself

We'll be a fine line

We'll be alright

“we” = h & self, h & lover, h & fans

collectiveness from tpwk

(notes on a piano sounding like drops, like he’s emerged from the water and dripping dry)

SYNTHESIS

Everything about this song is plural. Personal pronouns are all over the place. I, you, her, we. The sound is incredibly layered, with Harry’s own voice echoing through its verses like he’s singing to himself in an empty cave. Meanings can be attached to every word like it’s a wax tablet used too many times. What Harry has said in interviews for once holds pretty true to the actual meaning, in my opinion. 

“It felt like it described to me the process of making it and how the album felt in terms of the different kinds of songs on it.” (Capital FM)

This can mean a lot of things, and I think it means all of the things, of course. It means Fine Line is a summary of all of his emotions he visited on the album, of the things he’s laid bare. And it means that the actual process was also described, as one that can be frustrating and challenging, with added industry shit. 

Harry has expressed straightforward gratefulness to his label for "leaving (him) alone” while making the album and that speaks volumes. This time, he had the chance to make his art without the constant interference of a label, which meant he could weave in criticism as well. “Put a price on emotion” is first and foremost a critique on the industry. It’s the first line of the song, setting the tone for the interpretation of this song is about the risks I took while making this album. It involves criticism on an industry that creates such an atmosphere that only a certain type of music and artist breaks through or can be successful, that limits people in their personal expression. Convinces them that it’s better that way. That it’s better to hide who they love because the general public won’t accept them. That it’s better to create a song about a fake emotion than be honest. Harry loves writing songs and being on stage, but it’s taken a while for him to be fully comfortable there as a solo artist and bloom into the person that could make Fine Line. He loves his career, but it’s also limited his freedom in ways beyond our comprehension, and it’s exploited him to the point where he didn’t know who he was, in ways that have clearly taken a toll on his mental wellbeing. To a point where he finishes this album reassuring himself, most of all, that everything will be alright.

That process of making Fine Line obviously includes Harry confronting emotions he hadn’t before. He has stated that he experienced the highest highs and the lowest lows while making it. There are things he hates, he was fighting but doesn’t want to (anymore), uncertainties he was trying to figure out but had to accept he couldn’t, risks he still doesn’t know he can take without shaking. At the centre of it all is this sense of “knowing you.” The different personal pronouns in the song paint a fractured picture, which is ultimately deliberate. That the “you” Harry is devoted to and can hate sometimes doesn’t line up with “her,” that the end focus does seem to be this “you” that is mentioned in the same breath as “man” and “temptress,” forming the “we” together with “I”. 

After having songs like Lights Up, She, Falling and even TPWK, one of the central themes on the album has undoubtedly been self-discovery, in all its pain and glory. There are no female pronouns on the album besides, obviously, in She, and then here, in Fine Line. She is about a man living with a woman “just in his head”, who “sleeps in his bed while he plays pretend.” It is very clearly a trans narrative, the story of someone struggling to put into words what they’re experiencing in terms of gender. To a point that they fantasise about running away. Fine Line brings the ideas of knowing what it all means, which Lights Up kicks off (“do you know who you are?”), Falling deepens (“what am I now?”) and Treat People With Kindness turns on its head (“I don’t need all the answers”), together. Harry is still doubtful, and the questions asked earlier in the album haven’t disappeared, but he has accepted that “some things we’ll never know.” His aim, however, is still “knowing you.” 

To have Fine Line, as the summary of these emotions of self-growth and self-discovery, echo that one female pronoun, speaks volumes. It is a direct reference to She, to that story about gender. “Her” in this song refers to “she (who) lives in daydreams with (him).” The one who still only fully comes out when they’ve had a drink. The one he’s still working to include in who he is, as he tries to figure out who he is, all of it. The song where he sings in falsetto, just like on Fine Line. Of which he sang the first verse an octave lower live at the forum, switching between those voices, those perspectives. That’s also why “you” in this song is also Harry to me. We get this fractured sense of self, this “I” and “you” conversing over a drink, this “you” Harry is devoted to and wants to figure out. “You” and “I” form “we” and all of them are Harry. The lines are blurry on purpose, there is no way to figure out where “you” ends and “I” begins. 

“You sunshine, you temptress” is the most enigmatic line in that respect, and to me blurs those lines even more between the pronouns. “You” is suddenly also identified by a female noun. And no this isn’t about some kind of love triangle. “Sunshine” aligns with all the odes to his lover in the rest of the album. So what does that mean? That there are multiple “you”s in this song, meaning that Harry is addressing both his lover and a temptress? So “her” he’ll get to thinking of, the only other female pronoun used in the song, is identified as a temptress, but tempting to do what? To take risks? And no I won’t forget the “man, I can hate you sometimes,” where "man” is not a casual interjection but an identifier of “you.” 

Or is it an echo of “the light” from Golden’s “bring me back to the light” and Light’s Up’s “step into the light”? So that the “sunshine” symbolises being in the clear, being out of the darkness running through his heart, the darkness caused by not knowing who you are. “You sunshine,” you beacon of light. “You temptress,” risk-taker and source of anxiety. You, one I need to spread open to figure out, to know about, source of happiness and despair, one I’m devoted to but also hate. You, man, you, temptress. You there, in the mirror looking back at me. 

All of you, and myself included, we’ll be a fine line. And we’ll be alright.

This song is about all of that. The self in art, the self on its own, the other, the journey, the chances, the fears, the passion. Hope. Reassurance. Confidence. And, most importantly, that everything will be alright in the end.

x

read all my lyric analyses here

[dreamescapeswriting]

The Coordinates Of My Heart ~ JJK [Request]

WORD COUNT: 2.4K

GENRE: Angst, fluffy ending, established relationship

PAIRING: Jungkook x fem!reader

It was no secret that Jungkook had tattoos all over his body, everyone had seen them by now but not every single tattoo that covered him. There was one very secret tattoo that nobody except for you and Jungkook knew about...Well, you, Jungkook and his ex-girlfriend that was. It was only a small tattoo on his left peck but it was one of the biggest mistakes Jungkook had ever made in his life, the whole time he was getting his collection of tattoos he swore he would never have someone's name tattooed onto his body and yet there it sat. Black ink across his peck with her name in cursive writing with a small heart attached at the end, "SeoJun" The tattoo bothered you a lot but you would never let that show in front of Jungkook. You'd been dating for almost three years now so you never brought it up except for the first time he showed you. He wanted you to know that she meant nothing to him anymore but that it was there and something he had to deal with. 

It was still a crushing feeling to see another girls name tattooed on his body and him always saying that he would never do it again, never tattoo a name across him anywhere on his body. You knew he was thinking rationally but there was a part of you inside that cried out to know why he wouldn't put your name on himself instead but the other part of you thought rationally. He probably didn't want to chance it by getting your name tattooed anywhere on himself and having the relationship fall through. 

"Baby I'm so tired," Jungkook groaned that morning as he walked down the stairs to you in the living room he was shirtless and wearing a pair of shorts, you were trying to convince him to go swimming with you. It was his week off from the studio, he took it off to spend time with you but for the last six days he'd done nothing but lay in bed gaming or go out to dinner with his friends, or hang out with the boys. 

"I'm only asking for this one thing baby...Please! I don't want to go alone." You giggled to him as you tugged on his hands trying to convince him to go with you, he looked at you tiredly as he shook his head.

"I'm busy today," He mumbled as he took his arm out of your grasp, ignoring the look of confusion written across your face as he walked into the kitchen. Jungkook hadn't told you he'd made plans with anyone which was why you'd woken him up in the first place if you'd have known he was busy you would have left him. Following after him, you went into the kitchen and he began to make himself something to eat,

"Busy with what? We haven't hung out all week, you said you took the week off to spend time with me." You uttered you knew it probably sounded as though you were being childish but right now you didn't care, you'd missed your boyfriend and this week it felt like you saw him less than you did when he was actually working. 

"I actually said I took the week off to relax, so far I haven't done any of that." He grumbled as he began pouring himself a bowl of cereal, not meeting your eyes as he spoke. Rolling your eyes at him you shook your head, 

"You've relaxed plenty, all you've done is game and sleep...As well as go to lunch, or spent time with friends...W-What if we went for walk instead? Namjoon said he found this really cute hiking trail..." You trailed off when you realised Jungkook was more interested in the phone that was sitting in his hand than he was in listening to you talk to him. The thought of him ignoring you was heartbreaking enough, you began to overthink everything, maybe he was getting bored of being with you...

"But of course, I wouldn't want to take you away from what is really important." You grumbled to him referring to the phone before storming out of the kitchen and into the living room to grab your swimming bag to go alone since he wasn't that bothered about you anymore.

"Are you upset because I won't hang out with you?! We don't have to be around each other 24/7 Y/n." He followed you into the living room staring into your eyes as he waited for you to say something back to him. He didn't mean for it to come out as harsh as the way it was.

"No, but it would be nice if my own boyfriend wanted to do something with me. Watch a movie, go for a walk, order food. All you've been bothered about is gaming or hanging with the guys, we haven't done anything this week." He rolled his eyes at you before going back into the kitchen without another word in your direction. You knew it wasn't supposed to start a fight but there was a part inside of you that wanted answers from him. 

"Tell me I'm wrong then. Tell me one time this week you've even wanted or offered to hang out with me." You stated as you walked back into the kitchen, he put his bowl down into the sink shaking his head at you. 

"I've been busy. I'm doing stuff all week, I don't need you jumping down my neck-" He stopped talking when his phone began to ring on the table in front of him for a second you could have sworn a panicked look spread across his face. Out of habit your eyes glanced down to see who it was but as soon as you saw the name you wish you hadn't. SEOJUN. Was written across the screen in big bold writing with a broken heart beside her name just like the tattoo Jungkook had only the heart was broken. 

"W-Why is she calling you?" Instead of answering you Jungkook just turned the phone over so you couldn't see it and shook his head at the question. 

"Jungkook..." You whispered feeling insecure at the thought of him starting to see her again, it wasn't that you didn't trust him. It was Seojun that you didn't trust. She was manipulative and cunning. She always got whatever it was she wanted if she used the right way on Jungkook it was like she had a spell on him.

"Y/n it's not what it looks like, she's just started to say sorry to me that's all. She wants to make up for all the awful things that happened, she opened up her new shop so I've been going to help-" The look on your face made Jungkook stop talking instantly and he knew he fucked up, it was a look of sadness and anger as you realised he'd been spending all of his time with her. 

"S-So you've been spending time with her? On your week off..." He nodded his head slowly not wanting to lie to you about where he had been anymore, 

"Because I knew if I told you, you would be upset-" He tried to rationalise it but you cut him off,

"Of course I would! You've been spending all of your free time with your ex-girlfriend and lying to me about it!" You yelled out as you stared down at his phone, it was starting to ring again but you both ignored it this time letting it go to voicemail.

"I was just helping out with her shop, she's straightened herself out." You scoffed at the thought of it all and the phone began to ring again, it was clear she wasn't going to quit calling him until he finally answered her call. 

"So she's trying to get back with you?" You questioned as you stared at him folding your arms over your chest,

"No! She's trying to say sorry..." You rolled your eyes at the statement, at how naive he was being about all of it and began walking away from him not wanting to listen to this.

"Am I not allowed, friends?!" He snapped at you making you turn to face him you were angrier now at the fact that he was making it seem like you were forcing him not to talk to her, 

"You can be friends with whoever you want...B-But didn't you think about how this would make me feel? Seeing her again? When she's literally tattooed across your chest?!" He heard the crack in your voice as you stormed out of the door, leaving him alone in the world of his own thoughts. He knew how much the tattoo hurt you even if you refused to show him that sometimes, he groaned picking up his phone to her. 

"I'll be running late today, come by about 2 pm? The place will be empty and it'll be just me and you, like old times." He sighed as he heard her voice down the other side of the phone, 

"We should stop, she's suspicious..." He whispered to Seojun as he walked out of the kitchen and towards the front door, you were sitting in the car so he walked up the stairs to talk. 

You whimpered as you got into your car, starting up the engine and driving off towards the pool. You didn't even need to go, you just had to be out of the house for a while to let your brain cool down from what was happening, you were probably just overreacting to it all. 

When you came in after swimming the house was empty, all of the lights were off so you knew Jungkook must have been out or up in bed asleep but it was only 7 pm so that was unlikely true. You dropped your keys down in the small bowl by the front door and kicked off your shoes wanting nothing more than to snuggle up beside Jungkook and say sorry for that morning but he wasn't there so you went for the next best thing. Having a shower and curling up in one of his shirts while you waited for him to come home, you'd left him some texts but if he was still upset about this morning you doubted he would answer you. 

As you walked into the kitchen you saw a note on the door, 

Went out to think. Don't wait up. Love you. x x x JJK x x x You smiled halfheartedly as you read the note from him to you and screwed it up before putting it into the bin. All you had to do was remind yourself that Jungkook loved you, he would never do anything to hurt you.

Later that night Jungkook pulled up outside the house and saw your car, 

"I'll call you later, Y/n's home so I'm going to talk to her if she's awake," Jungkook said to Seojun who hummed before hanging upon him. He shut the door carefully and headed up to the front door, it was almost 12 pm so you were most likely asleep in bed but when he walked into the living room you were out cold on the sofa. Draped in one of his jumpers and a pair of shorts with a blanket around you, the TV was playing to itself all of their Bangtan bombs and he smiled to himself. At least you weren't too angry at him to fall asleep to his voice, he turned off the TV and headed into the kitchen. 

A small hissing noise made you wake up when you heard small grunts of pain, 

"Guk?" You moaned out as you rubbed your eyes, the kitchen light was on and the moaning was coming from there. Terror ripped through you at the thought of him and someone else being in there together but Jungkook would never do that...Would he? Slowly sliding off the sofa you tip-toed into the kitchen to see Jungkook with his back to you, he was hissing as he pulled something off his chest, 

"Kookie? What's going on?" Jungkook jumped as your voice suddenly filled the air, he turned to face you and you saw what he was struggling to do. There was fresh clingfilm wrapped around his chest along with some pads, 

"Jungkook?" You frowned walking further into the kitchen as you helped him take off the cling film, 

"I did something." He mumbled as he took your hands into his own to stop you from removing the rest of it all, 

"We have to talk..." You stared into his eyes waiting for him to continue and he looked down, 

"I know how much the tattooed bothered you without you saying anything...That's the reason I've been seeing Seojun so much, she runs her own tattoo parlour instead of working for other people now..." You remembered him telling you once that she worked as a tattooist in someone else's shop, 

"S-So you went to her to get a tattoo done? Why didn't you tell me?" He let go of your wrists and allowed you to keep unwrapping the clingfilm until it got to the end and the flower could be seen, 

"Because we were working on something I couldn't tell you about," Sitting on his left peck, covering the entire muscle was a huge tattoo of your birth flower. Tears began to well up in your eyes as you stared at the masterpiece, 

"The best part." He whispered as he took your hand carefully and lead it over to the middle of his chest, written in small black in were some coordinates. 

"Do you know what that is?" You stared at them with a frown on your face shaking your head at him trying to work it out, 

"It's the coordinates of where I first told you that I loved you," You stared at the coordinates before wrapping your arms around the back of his neck and dragging him into a passionate kiss. Tugging him closer to you until he hissed out in pain, 

"S-Sorry, the tattoo is sore." He chuckled as you looked at it again, 

"Where's your cream? I'll apply it and then we can go to bed?" You questioned as he nodded at you, telling you where the cream he used for all his tattoo's was kept and went to sit on the sofa for you. Smiling happily as he waited for you to come back to him.

Tagline: @lyoongx​ @mitzwinchester​ @fan-ati--c​ @rjsmochii​ @kneel-begyourpardon​ @taestannie​ @bisexualmess007​ @innersooya​ @sw33tnight​ @jin-from-the-block​ @sweeneyblue1​

[xpeachesncream]

restart | four

[ SEQUEL TO PERFECTLY WRONG ] | [ series masterlist ]

summary: as you and taehyung start to build your life together post graduation, things become more complicated than what you expected it to be. while taehyung struggles with his inner demons, you’ve become the sole supporter, the pillar, juggling different jobs to keep you two afloat. your love for each other has been put to the test as your relationship continues to face hurdles - hurdles that have you questioning whether or not your relationship will make it through.

pairing: reader x fiancé!kth

genre: post grad au, established relationship au | fluff, angst, smut

words: 4.8k

warnings: cussing/mature language, jealousy, lots of insecurities and overthinking, angst, crying, bar scene, alcohol consumption, flashback scene in the middle of the chapter, a lil sprinkle of fluff, implied sexual content, bickering/arguments

note: honestly, this was ALSO not supposed to get this long but like… 🙃 here we are lol

tags: @enchantaeduniverse​ @thedarkwinterrose​ @sapphirejeon​ @jwlmnbt​ @bluesharksandfish​ @ra-mun-e @brightcolorsoffendme​ @jungcrookthecookbook​ @sunniejinnie​ (please message me if you would like to be added to the taglist!)

"Okay, I think that's it." You said, hands on your hips as you and Jungkook walked through your door for the final time.

"What are you selling, the world?" He huffs and puffs.

"For someone who works out often, you complain a lot." He rolls his eyes playfully.

"Where's Tae?"

"Sleeping still." He nods.

"Oh, okay. Ready to go then?" You nodded silently as you grabbed your bag to hitch a ride to the café with Jungkook since he was working today. He starts to talk about the girl who works with you two and how he thinks she's a little cutiepie. He has such a silly crush on her that his cheeks are lightly rose tinted every time he talks about certain encounters they've had. You're happy to see him happy, and you tell him to keep pursuing it since she's a super sweet girl. However, part of you is sad solely because you couldn't say you were 100% happy at this moment. You wish you were, but these problems were hindering you from feeling complete. You just wanted to get past this page in the book.

As soon as you both get to the cafe, you start unloading his trunk and getting everything inside. Jungkook claims he has the last two bags covered, so you walk to the back and take breather just to gather yourself before setting up. But you truly didn't expect to lose it right then and there.

"Okay! I got all the— Y/N?" Jungkook instantly worries when he sees you crying into your hands in the backroom and hurries over to you. "Hey, woah. What's going on?" He gets in front of you, gently trying to pry your hands off of your face.

"Fuck, I'm sorry." You continue to cry as he successfully removes your hands from your face.

"Sorry for what? What's going on?" He wipes your tears with his sweater and lifts your chin to look at you in the eye.

"Nothing."

"The day barely started and you're already crying in the backroom." He says softly. "Don't try and lie to me."

"I just don't know what's going on between me and Tae and it's stressing me out."

"What's going on? Same stuff?" You nod, tears still streaming down your cheeks. You tell him about how he had been super weird about taking Jimin's help and how you both got into a huge argument about it. Then, you told him how last night ended [sparing your poor bestfriend the details] and how you couldn't help but feel used because he simply dismissed you, which is very unlike Taehyung when it comes to arguments and disagreements. "I'm sorry, Y/N. I know he's going through a rough time, but Tae also needs to respect you and look at you as his partner, not someone who's also attacking him or against him. Do you want me to talk to him?"

"No." Simply, no. Because you never get your friends involved like that. You just don't, no matter how much they wanna help. "He looks at me like I am, especially after this whole Jimin thing. I don't wanna say it's stupid because I don't wanna discredit his feelings, but god. Like, should I just do this on my own? Tell Jimin to forget it?"

"No." Jungkook shakes his head. "You're already getting a good start on your goals, Y/N. Don't let that go because of everything going on. Give him some time and space."

"I have been. For awhile now." You sat, feeling completely defeated already, tears still coming down your cheeks.

"Here, I'll go set up and I can take over the table for a bit. I'll ask Isabella if she can cover for a quick second." He stands in front of you, hands out to help support you as if you had lost your footing.

"No, I'll be fine—"

"Y/N, just sit. Okay?" He gives off a small sigh. "Just sit for a second and let yourself take a breather." He gently sits you down and makes sure you don't get up by slowly backing away from you.

"Kook, this isn't Marco Polo."

"I'm just trying to make sure you don't run off because you're stubborn!"

"Hey!" Isabella comes running in, a little confused as to what's happening.

"Hey, can you cover me at the front for a bit?" Jungkook stands back upright in a normal position to ask her sweetly, hands tucked behind his back as he bounced on his feet. This boy.

"Yeah, of course Jungkook." She blushes.

"Thanks. I'll be right back." He gives you a quick look before dashing off. You lay your head onto your arms as they rest on the table, a small headache forming at the center of your forehead.

"You okay, Y/N?" Isabella asks softly as she puts her things away.

"Yeah, sorry. Just a really weird day yesterday."

"I'm sorry." You feel her hand caress your back. "Let me know if you need anything, okay?" She says before shuffling herself out of the room. To be honest, you had no idea what was going on with you, and why you were feeling this way. You were just so sick and tired. Sick and tired of being sick and tired.

This was slowly taking a toll on you, and you weren't even sure if Taehyung realized what he was doing was hurting you in the process.

He can't say he does.

Tae set the weights down back onto the rack aggressively before sitting on the bench, watching Jimin finish his set. They had been working out after lunch, Jimin calling him shortly after Taehyung had fully woken up.

"Are you gonna go to the café after this?" Tae shrugged.

"I don't know, Y/N said she didn't need help and wouldn't be there all day."

"You won't even visit for a bit?" Jimin asks. Usually Tae was rushing to get back to you, but he knew everything that had been going on had been affecting your relationship to an extent.

"We'll see."

"You two coming to the bars tonight then?"

"What are we celebrating again?"

"Nothing. Just getting together like old times. I told Kook, Hobi and Yoongi. They're down." Tae nodded.

"Joon, too?"

"Joon, too."

"Me and Y/N will probably go but I don't think we'll stay long. She has to do that thing at the school—" He scratched his head. "The thing— the exhibit and talking to incoming art students or whatever." Jimin chuckled at how Tae couldn't get his words out.

"It's not whatever."

"You know that's not what I mean." Tae rolled his eyes at him, annoyed all over again at how Jimin had been kissing your ass lately. Cause fuck, the way Jimin had been painting himself as a knight in shining armor, an angel even, was pissing him the fuck off. It made him feel like he wasn't doing enough to support you, or like you couldn't turn to him for help. He hated that feeling, even though he had been rude as hell and showing it in a different way.

"That's fine. Just come out and hang out for a bit." Jimin sighed as he sat on the bench next to him, drinking some water before placing the bottle back down on the ground. "You two doing okay?"

"Yeah, what makes you think we aren't?" Tae asks, getting defensive. Jimin quickly eyes him, reading his body language. He knew Taehyung so well - so fucking well that he knew almost immediately when things were taking a toll on him. Things liiiike.. his parents. As a prime example. Jimin knew Taehyung and his parents obviously didn't have the best relationship, and he knew he took things to heart whenever his father got on him about stupid shit [just like he did over that dinner]. Taehyung wasn't one to show emotion much; he liked showing people he was mentally tough and that he could handle whatever came his way. For the most part, it was true. But, Jimin and Namjoon also knew he wasn't always like that, especially when it came to things that mattered the most to him - his family and you. Taehyung hated to admit it but his family's opinion of him was important no matter what. He was hard on himself because he wanted them to be proud. He wanted to actually feel like he had been doing something good for once. He was still longing for that feeling no matter what he said or did. It was a never-ending battle; like a plot with no happy ending in sight.

"I'm just asking." Jimin threw up his hands, showing that he wasn't suggesting anything behind the harmless question.

"We're fine. I know she's been stressed lately because of work and her art."

"Mmm."

"It's funny." Taehyung chuckles at himself.

"What's funny?" Jimin laughed a bit, confused.

"I didn't expect to be caught up in her like this. After Hana, messing around with all these girls. She's my fucking fiancé."

"Yeah and you better not fuck that up." Jimin stands to gather his things.

"You sound like my dad." Tae jokes, even though he was pretty offended.

"I'm sorry, didn't mean to." Jimin instantly apologizes, knowing everyone had been walking on eggshells around Taehyung lately. "She's a good girl, you've got it good."

Taehyung softly smiles at the thought of you, but he wasn't gonna lie, he was hurt by Jimin's statement. Call him sensitive or whatever, but he wasn't feeling the fact that people were constantly looking at him as a fuck up and hinting at it. It seemed to be a reoccurring theme lately. "You ready?" Tae sighs before grabbing his stuff. They get into his car, departing from the gym to make their way to Jimin's so he can get dropped off before Tae heads home. Taehyung replays yesterday's events in his head, which instantly irks him all over again. But, he has such a soft spot for you that he feels terrible for having been too harsh about it. He was still upset, and he wasn't gonna let up on his feelings. But he knew he should have been better about how he approached it. He knew better than that. He's learned to do better.

➤ FLASHBACK

Taehyung excitedly parks his car at the café to surprise you for your pop up today. He had been working endlessly to finish off finals strongly, and he had been so busy that he hadn't really gotten a chance to help you or support you. He felt terrible about it because you were his babygirl and he wanted nothing but to spoil you for all the hardwork you've been putting in.

He creeps up behind you, bouquet of flowers hidden behind his back. "Excuse me, miss." He says lowly near your ear.

"Holy fuck!" You say as he startles you. "Babe, what the hell! Don't do that!" He laughs.

"What's cookin', goodlookin'?" He wiggles his eyebrows, making you chuckle. "These are for you." He smiles toothlessly as he hands you the pretty bouquet. "And your favorite!" He hands you a Mcflurry cup.

You squeal. "Oreo Mcflurry! Aw, thank you baby." You place a quick kiss on his lips. "But don't ever scare me like that!" You playfully hit his chest, causing him to erupt in laughter.

"You should've seen your face."

"Ha-ha, very funny." You rolled your eyes, causing him to pinch your cheeks.

"How's it going?"

"Welp, I'm almost out for the day." You giggle. "I, uh, may have underestimated." You look down at his hoodie, realizing it was one of the hoodies you had made for a previous collection you sold at Jin's. "Waaaow, cute sweater, who made it?"

"Mm, I don't know if you know her. Her name's Y/N."

"Uh huh?" You nod, hand on your hip, waiting to hear more.

"She stands about this tall." He lowers himself close to the ground, causing you to laugh. "Cute, right? She's beautiful, incredibly smart and sexy. Brilliant visual designer and illustrator. Packed with hella attitude." He pretends to ponder on his thoughts. "I could go on about her, really. She's one of a kind."

"Cute. She must feel lucky." You smile.

"I know, I'd feel lucky if I knew me too." You roll your eyes and playfully hit him. "Ah, I'm kidding." He pulls you into a hug. "I keep this sweater in my trunk."

"Oh, so you keep it in your trunk just for emergency wear?" You sarcastically ask as he holds you from behind.

"Yeah, and cause it's the only sweater I'd choose to wear out of the hundreds I own." You smile up at him. "Mhm, not gonna try and win that one." He places a big, sloppy kiss on your cheek before pulling away. "Show me. How can I help my pretty baby today?"

➤ END FLASHBACK

"Hey, I can't stay out late tonight because of the event tomorrow."

"Yeah, I know." Taehyung says softly.

"Please don't drink too much."

"I wooooooon't." He whines with a small sigh, also slightly offended at that statement. He didn't know what it was, maybe it was the fact that his own father painted him in such a negative light that everything seemed off to him lately. Like people were just out to get him or constantly looking down at him and his actions. A personal attack at who he was. It was slowly piling up for him and he wasn't sure how much more of it he could take.

You prepared a quick dinner while he hopped in the shower. You set his plate aside before taking a look at the mail that had come in today.

Bills, bills and more bills.

You sighed to yourself as it felt like you had just paid things off, but clearly not. Moving into Taehyung's wasn't the greatest idea, being that his space was much more expensive than yours. But, he did have the space you needed for your work. There was money left, but you knew it wouldn't last forever. You hated tapping into your savings and whipping out your credit cards because you wanted to keep yourself clean as much as possible. However, that was proven difficult as of late. It was a sacrifice, especially since Taehyung had cut off his mother's help. Taehyung's pride was such a curse sometimes.

You shook your head, already finalizing the fact that you would deal with it later. You had began to set your things aside for the new student event tomorrow morning. You figured you'd get there early to set up and make your table at neat and cute, so you didnt have to worry much about it right now.

Taehyung comes out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist, hair slicked back and wet. You turn to face him, your eyes wandering down to his chest and bottom area. God, why was he so beautiful? It wasn't fair. You loved him so much that you could crumble even being upset. He talks a whole lot about you being the death of him, when really, this man is going to be the death of you. Truly. There's no debate about it.

Getting to the bar, you both immediately spot your friends in the corner, a huge tower of beer decorating the center of the table. Jimin is the first to stand, coming towards you two with a huge smile on his face.

"Friends!" Jimin yells. "Drink!" He says, holding up two shot glasses.

"Fuck, man." Taehyung says taking the glass. "We just got here."

"So! Y/N needs to be home early remember?" He watches wide-eyed as you two take the shot and make sour faces at each other.

"Okay, I'm good." You say, being that you were the DD tonight. Taehyung could enjoy himself if he wanted to [to an extent], but you definitely needed to be in tip top shape to be a good role model to those incoming art students tomorrow.

Throughout the night, the bar starts to get packed from end to end, you and your friends staying at the table and keeping to yourselves. You could tell Taehyung was crossing the line of pretty fucking drunk, which somewhat bothered you. You literally just told him to take it easy tonight - just for one night - so you could do what you need to do tomorrow.

"Hey." Jimin comes next to you, swinging his arm over your shoulder like he always does. "One more shot?" You give him a toothless smile. Ugh, why the hell not? Your man was drunk, and Jimin had only been helpful lately. You could at least return the favor by taking a shot with him.

"What are we drinking to?"

"You." He smiles. "Your shop. Your art. It'll only go up from here, yeah?" He rose his shot glass up before clinking it against yours and taking it to the neck.

"Mkay, that does it for me." You chuckle. "Thanks for the shot."

"No problem. You doing okay?"

"Yeah, I'm good." You looked at your watch. "Should probably get out of here soon, but Tae looks like he's enjoying himself. I don't wanna drag him out of here."

"We can just bring him home." You shake your head worriedly.

"I don't wanna leave without him." Jimin chuckles and looks over at Taehyung.

"He'll be okay and you'll be just fine tomorrow. Besides, you can make up all the bullshit in the world to tell the incoming students, they'll believe it either way."

"That's mean." You chuckle.

"Come. Let's dance!" Jimin says, leading the way to the empty space near the table. Everyone gets up to dance, Taehyung slipping himself behind you, whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

"Can I at least get one minute with my lady without Jimin interrupting?" He says in your ear.

"Taehyung." You flatly say, looking back at him.

"That's your mad face." He holds you tightly from behind as he sways you from side to side.

"I'm not mad."

"Mhm." He kisses the back of your head. "Why don't you have fun with me for a little? We'll go home after this." You couldn't even stay mad at him, with that fucking frustratingly handsome face of his. He was definitely drunk though, you could smell the whiskey lingering on his breath as he danced with you for a bit. You let him be, just so you wouldn't trigger anything within drunk Taehyung. Everyone around you was having a good time, the feeling of nostalgia hitting you pretty hard. You missed the days where you could get together and go to parties after a long week of school. Or, when you would tease the fuck out of Taehyung as his fuckbuddy during parties, or at the clubs. You know, before graduation and responsibilities happened.

But as one hour turned into two, and two turned into three, you found yourself getting restless. It was nearing 2AM and you had to be at the school by 8am - even earlier just to set your table up. You made your way to the bathroom, hoping Tae would get the point and start getting himself ready to leave.

Right.

Once you were out the bathroom, he'd realize you had been gone for a little and start saying his goodbye's. He'd realize time got to the best of him. Right?

"It's a fucking good time tonight!" Jimin tells Namjoon, laughing with him as he watches Joon act a fool with his dance moves.

"I'm sure it is, since you've been in Y/N's space the entire night." Taehyung says it jokingly, but he doesn't realize it only comes off that way in his head. Jimin furrows his brows at him, his high quickly dying with Taehyung's unnecessary comment.

"Don't start with all that. Not tonight. Everyone's having a good time--"

"Or what, Jimin?" Taehyung chuckles like the petty ass he can be. "You know it's true. Don't you think it's a little disrespectful to be crossing boundaries?"

"Hey, let's step back for a bit." Jungkook lightly tugs on Taehyung's arm as he hears the conversation going south quickly. But Taehyung breaks from his grip, stepping forward towards Jimin.

"You really think I would do that to you?"

"Haven't you already? Swinging your arms around her and shit, being all angelic--"

"Tae, come on. That's enough. Don't." Namjoon steps in the middle. "Let's go outside to get some air."

"You really wanna make me look that bad in front of my own girl?" Jimin lightly pushes him away, Taehyung getting too into his space.

"Enough." Namjoon shakes his head, aggressively stepping in the way to create distance. Taehyung shakes his head and walks off, the rest of the group watching as he walks. You finish off in the bathroom, assuming Tae was already getting ready to go. However, you realize your assumption of leaving by the time you're back is absolutely incorrect because when you get to the table, Taehyung is nowhere to be seen.

"Where's Tae?" Kook looks at you frazzled, before his eyes begin to pan the room again.

"Look, don't freak out, but him and Jimin just got into it and he walked off."

"What the hell do you mean they got into it and he walked off?"

"It's nothing, Tae is just drunk—" Kook squeezes your wrist and shakes his head.

"No, it's not just nothing because you and I both know how he's been feeling lately." You run your hand through your hair. "What did he say?"

"He just got into it about Jimin getting close to you lately, and how he felt like he was disrespecting boundaries." You sigh heavily.

"Fuck."

"We have an issue." Namjoon comes back from out of the blue. "He's not around."

"What do you mean?! Where did he go?" You run your hand through your hair.

"Okay, let's not panic." Jungkook tries to relax you. "Let me go check the bathrooms." Namjoon nods as he continues to look around the room.

"Please? We should get home." He nods to you before he's off to check for Tae in the bathroom. You stand near the table awkwardly, worry filling you quickly the more time passes.

"Hey, you okay? What can I do?" Hobi squeezes your arm, his face flushed with a red tint from how tipsy he is. You give him a small, reassuring smile and nod to try and keep calm.

"I honestly don't know anymore, but I'll be good. I think. We're just gonna look for him and head home."

"Is Kookie looking in the bathroom?" You nod. At this point, you catch a glimpse of Jungkook coming back alone.

"Jungkook?"

"I'm sorry, I couldn't find him in there. I swear I tried."

"So, where the hell is he?" Jungkook shrugs.

"Lets check around again. I won't leave until we find him."

"Have you tried to call him?" You had already beaten Yoongi's question, calling Taehyung's phone only to see his phone vibrating and ringing on the fucking table. "Hm, okay. Maybe not."

"Fuck." You snatch Taehyung's phone from the table. "Is he serious right now? It's about to be 2:30AM. How the fuck can he get lost at this time?"

"Y/N just go home, we'll find him and bring him home." Jimin says, coming back from roaming around the place.

"No, I'm not leaving here without him."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean for this to happen." He says, looking at you in the eye. Although he was pretty fucking pissed, he couldn't help but worry about him either. No matter what, that was still his bestfriend. He didn't want anything to happen to him.

"It's not your fault."

"We need to check around the neighborhood." Jungkook suddenly comes back and grabs your arm. You follow him, Yoongi, Hobi, Namjoon and Jimin outside of the bar, the cold hitting your skin harshly.

"Let's split." Namjoon says. Jimin and Hobi split, Namjoon and Yoongi sticking together to go down a different path. You kept yourself close to Jungkook, knowing there were all sorts of drunk ass men out at this hour and you weren't helping wearing a tiny ass skirt and a deep cut shirt.

"Cutiepie, let me come holla!" A dude yells as he tries to swing his arm around your waist. Jungkook easily pushes him off, glaring at him.

"Back the fuck up." He spits out, your bestfriend coming to your rescue amongst the sea of men you're encountering on the sidewalk right now. He throws his jacket over your shoulders, hoping to shield you from them and the cold. "Your outfit." Jungkook frowns, a little worried.

"I mean, I didn't expect to lose Tae tonight." Once you had gotten to a quieter part of the street, you come from behind to walk beside him. "Where the hell could he have gone?" You whine. You're more worried for his safety and wellbeing right now more than anything and all you wanted to do was find him and bring him home, even though you were slightly worrying about yourself and how things would go tomorrow. You could give him an earful later. It could wait.

"He couldn't have gone far." You both continue down the street, heading towards your car, hoping he may be around the area. Jimin calls to check in, saying him and Hobi hadn't caught sight of him yet, and the same thing goes for Yoongi and Joon. You almost want to cry when you don't see Taehyung near your car, but Jungkook ends up walking further down towards the park near your parking spot. "Y/N! Here!" He calls out, running towards an individual slumped over on their knees on a bench. "Taehyungie?" Jungkook sits next to him and shakes him a bit.

"Shit dude, I just kept walking then I suddenly had no idea where I was at." He drunkily says as you sit next to him and sigh heavily.

"No one said you had to do that, Tae."

"I just needed some air."

"Yeah and look where that got you, it's close to 3AM." You respond, irritated.

"Y/N." Jungkook says softly, shaking his head at you as if he were signaling for you to quit with your attitude. "Let's go back to the car." Jungkook watches him stand up and wobble a bit, but eases up when he realizes Taehyung is capable of walking himself to the car. You three get back safely, letting the others know that you had found him before driving Jungkook back towards the club so he can meet with everyone else. You quickly thank him for his support before driving off to head home.

The car is incredibly cold, and silent.

"Love, I'm sorry. I just needed air and got lost." He breaks the silence.

"I see that." You say softly as you drive home, keeping your eyes glued to the road in front of you.

3:23AM.

"Please don't be mad." He gives your thigh gentle squeeze. "I just got a little into my head tonight." You sighed, gently removing his hand from your thigh.

"Taehyung, I'm your fiancé, I'm doing this with you and only you. Do you even understand how worried I was? You just walked off, without your phone. Without saying anything to me. Just cause you got in your head for no reason."

"I'm sorry." He repeats at a whisper. You don't say anything else for the rest of the drive home. You silently park the car and head to the apartment, Taehyung sluggishly following behind you. He knows you're bothered, knowing it's closing to 3:30AM and you had an early morning. Honestly, he didn't realize how drunk he was until he had gotten himself into that argument with Jimin then got lost, especially without his phone. The fact that he had made you worry and stress like that made him feel terrible, especially after these past few days. You could have easily left, but you didn't leave without him even if it was this late. He instantly just wanted to cuddle you and tell you how sorry he was.

You quietly get ready for bed and line your things up by the door, just so it would be an easy quick and grab as you head out in the morning. You slip yourself into the sheets, Taehyung following shortly after he gets himself ready for bed. He shuts off all the lights and grabs himself a water bottle to sit by his nightstand before slipping in next to you.

"I love you." He whispers against your ear, wrapping his arms around you. But you don't respond. He peeks over to see your eyes shut, silently sighing to himself as he nuzzled his head against the nape of your neck. He knows you aren't fast asleep yet, and it hurts him that you hadn't said it back. You both just knew exactly how to love each other well, but also push each other's buttons. But, maybe, it was true - he was just fucking up left and right lately. Enough for you to go to bed without saying 'I love you' back.

undefined

'cause baby if i find a way, i'm sure of it, this love won't stray; just give me a chance to say i love you, and i need you. now are you here to stay, or fade away like every other day? you're the reason that i lie awake

track two: 3AM - finding hope

[miwtze]

distance (ushijima wakatoshi x reader)

cw: depression, intrusive thoughts, ushi might be ooc idk 

wc: 1.9k of utter dogshit i HATE this 

distance wasn’t uncommon between you and ushijima. you knew ushijima had to focus on volleyball and he knew you had times where you were unable to attend to yourself much less him. maybe that’s why you two have lasted as long as you did, you weren’t suited for love but neither was he, so you thought that maybe you guys would have a chance. he called mutual respect, and while that might be true to some extent, to you it just felt like he settled with you for convenience. you weren’t stupid. you knew that like everyone else in this world, ushijima craved affection but that was the extent of his relationship. you believed he did not need to love you. in fact he probably couldn’t. you were not loveable. how could another love a person so void of life; of course they couldn’t. you loved him but he didn't love you. you thought maybe that was enough for you, but as a human you’re selfish. you want your own form of comfort and if that means ending things with ushijima after six years of dating then so be it. as your gentle fingers continue to thread bead after bead through the wire, you wonder if your relationship between you and ushijima would snap like the thin wire in between your finger. you’re pulled from your thoughts when you hear the front door open. when ushijima pops his head out of the hall way and into the living room you greet him.

“hey, welcome back.” ushijima looks as beat up as you feel; sunken in eyes and dried sweat on his forehead. “i didn’t think you’d be back so soon, do you want me to make dinner while you shower?”

“hello.” he looks down at the beads in your hands, frowning. he knows they’re the same kind you had strung together for him when you confessed to him at 18, the same one he adorns on his wrist like an olympic medal. “did you do anything all day except play with beads?” he didn’t mean to come off like that, he wanted to talk but he didn’t know how to go about it. his indifference only made the statement come off worse, he knew this, but he couldn’t bring himself to speak up. ushijima was tired, no he was exhausted. he wanted to help you but he couldn’t cross the distance to meet you. not when your empty eyes are waiting for him on the other side.

“so no dinner then.” you want him to object. you want him to tell you that he wants to eat dinner with you, to talk to you. you want something, anything. you want ushijima wakatoshi to love you because you don’t want to leave.

“yeah no dinner tonight.”

“c’mon we haven’t hung out in forever. let’s go out and drink, it’s fine if you start crying. we all miss you,” your friend begs on the other end of the line. “i’ll come get you at six, yeah? yeah?” you smile, it felt nice knowing your presence was wanted even if it was for a little bit.

“yeah i’ll be ready at six.” you hear your friend excitedly end the call as you flop onto the bed. you need to go out. you knew it wasn’t good for you to stay inside and mope about how unloved you were. you knew you had to try just a little more, just for yourself. the little steps you had been making the couple years like cleaning your clothes, eating , going to classes, doing the works seemed completely mundane but it helped you help yourself. if nothing else you wanted to try and cross the distance yourself, maybe with ushijima on the other side maybe not.

by the time six rolls around you’ve showered and dressed up to the nines. you’ve never felt as pretty as you did in that moment and you think it has something to do with wanting to be better and much less the wings on your eyelids. as you fall into your friend’s car you’re greeted with two more of your friends and a bottle of alcohol. we’re pre-gaming before we drink some more at ayasski’s, they explain. giggling you join them getting inebriated and melting into the arms of your friends. as the night gets longer, your friends gently probe you about ushijima knowing you well enough to know something wasn’t okay.

“i think it’s kind of stupid to be in a relationship where someone can’t love you,” you giggle the blush reaching up to your cheeks. “i love him so, so, so much so i have to break up with him. i know he’s not happy with me.” you friends wrap their arms around you, booing.

“it’s his loss there’s literally no reason to not be happy with you,” you friend shouted, you could disagree ten times over. the hope that blossomed in your chest earlier today’s as completely shot down when you realized you weren’t a person meant to get better. you tossed another shot back. “but he seemed really happy when we saw you two at your graduation last year.”

“it’s been a year. what does it even matter, we got together to party not talk about my problems,” you laugh pulling them from the kitchen into the living room. you spend the night talking catching up, telling them about your first year at the company you work for, how much you missed them, about how much you missed ushijima (you couldn’t help it you were tipsy). you realize how much you've missed talking to someone about trivial matters. you missed having no distance with people. how did things get so far away with ushijima you wonder.

at some point you black out and when you finally come around you’re tucked into your friend’s bed sandwiched between your friends. you gently untangle yourself from them and wash up in the bathroom. the cold water pulling you from your drowsiness and straight into the deep end of the nastiest hangover you’ve probably ever had. “wake up losers, i'm making breakfast for our nasty ass hangovers,” you yawn as you make your way out of the bedroom. your friends shuffle around groaning telling you to shut up and we’ll be there in a bit. shuffling around the kitchen you begin making pancakes and as you wait for the batter to cook you pick up your phone. your stomach drops when you realize you have three missed calls and a couple texts from ushijima. you forgot to tell him you were going out, you honestly didn’t think he would care.

[wakatoshi ♡]

8:18 pm | I’m going to be home late today. Don’t worry about dinner.

8:18 pm | I’ll make something when I get home.

it’s not lost on you that he texted you he wouldn’t be home at an angel number. the universe was playing its jokes on you but you can’t seem to find the humor.

[wakatoshi ♡]

11:24 pm | Did you go out?

11:36 pm | When will you be home?

12:01 am | Please be quiet when you return home. Goodnight.

you laugh at his punctualness, identifiable even through text. as your friends file in and fill themselves up, you head out beginning your trek home. by the time you get home your feet hurt almost as much as your head. you bend over to free your feet from the shackles of your stupid fucking heels. “objectively i would’ve looked just as pretty with a pair of flats,” you grumble rubbing the budding blisters on your feet.

“you’re pretty in general so i doubt your attractiveness changes depending on what footwear you wear.” you snap your head up, blinking owlishly at ushijima. he places his hand out in front of you waiting for you to take it. when you do, he pulls you up and into his arms carrying you into the room. you really don’t know how to react, especially with your brain pounding for a whole new reason. cautiously, you turn your head to look up at ushijima as he sets you down, leaning up to place a kiss on his chin. you wait for a reaction, a response, anything you can get but all he does is turn around and walk out. it was as if he tied the beaded bracelet on your wrist just to yank it off.

you can’t help but sob into a pillow, what else were you supposed to do. you built yourself up to leave him only to be broken down by the tiniest bit of affection. ushijima had his hands around your throat and you couldn’t get it off you no matter what you did. you loved him so much, you couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t love you back. your throat constricted, your sobs got heavy. you froze when you heard the bedroom door open. you could’ve sworn you’ve been crying for ages but only a couple minutes had passed. you held your breath as ushijima sat next to you, running his fingers through your hair. your heart beat pitifully and tears began to spill through your eyelashes again. you’re so fucking stupid, berating yourself never once allowing yourself to consider the feelings ushijima tried to awkwardly convey to you. “what happened? did something happen when you went out?” you sob louder. how could he be so unaware. “it was me wasn’t it.” you froze. “i actually would like to talk about this so when you’re calmer, may we?” you whisper out a simple yes in return feeling the nasty rope of anxiety tie knots in your stomach.

your thoughts spiraled, what did he want to talk about, did he really not love you, were you really just a small rock in the middle of his garden, were you something much more disgusting to him. he pulls you out of your thoughts just as quickly as he dropped you in them. quite literally. he pulls you onto his lap tucking your head into his chest and wraps his arm around your waist, playing with your hair once again. you two stay like that for what feels like decades. you can’t remember the last time you felt like he wanted to be around you, much less a time where he held you. gentle you pull away from his chest to face your unnerving anxieties.

“h-hey,” you whisper gently. you don’t miss the way his eyes soften at your voice. he doesn’t know how long it’s been since he’s heard your voice for something other than small talk. he missed your warmth, your voice, he missed you. so much. ushijima wanted to do better for you. when you seem to gain your resolve you finally give voice to the anxieties that planted it’s nasty seed in your thoughts. “have you ever loved me?” before you can get a response you continue, “i know i’m not lovable but are you with me for convenience. do you just deal with me? do i burden you with-”

“i am absolutely enthralled by you but i have no clue how to go about it.” he takes your face in the palm of his hands, brushing your tears away. “i want to try and do better. our distance is growing and i don’t like it at all. i understand we don’t have the most convenient relationship but i don’t want to end it because you mean so much to me.”

“i don’t want to end it either. i know it’s hard. i know it is, but you really think we could do it?” he smiles at you and it was as if a wall was broken down, not a big one but one that you had set up so you wouldn’t acknowledge ushijima or his feelings towards you.

“i know we can.”

[delacyrose224]

Long Story Short

-Pairing: guitarist!Jin x reader (named)

-Premise: You've been hurt in past relationships, but there's a goofy guitarist that seems to be passing every test you throw at him. Now what?

-Genre: rock band!AU, fluff with a sprinkle of angst (as always)

-Warnings: cursing, douchebag Namjoon, shirtless Seokjin (which always deserves a warning for heart health)

-Word Count: 4.8k

-Author's Note: This is conclusion to the evermore trilogy/Gold Rush universe. Based off of 'long story short' by Taylor Swift, but once again, you don't need to know the song to enjoy!

*Bzzt bzzt*

You hear the buzzing of your phone from across the room where you’re curled up in a blanket watching tv. Who the heck is calling you on a Saturday morning at 10am? You fling the blanket off yourself and pad over to your bag, fumbling through its contents until you find your phone, angrily screaming your ringtone even louder as you remove it from its hiding place.

Incoming Call: Jin

Uhh...okay. You’d gone out on a date with him a few days ago, and last night you and your best friend had hung out with him and his band. That didn’t explain him calling and interrupting your me time on Saturday morning.

“...hello?”

“Margot?” Jin sounds far away from the receiver for some reason.

“...live and in person. Well, not in person. You know what I mean. What’s up?” you reply, not knowing where this is all going.

“Can’t I call a pretty girl on a Saturday morning because I miss her?” Jin retorts, still sounding far away from the phone. Good thing he’s not here to see the flush creeping onto your cheeks.

“You can, but you literally just saw me last night. Like 12 hours ago, less even. Why do you sound like you’re calling from outer space?”

“You’re on speaker...I guess I should have started the conversation with that bit of information. I’m making the boys brunch because I’m apparently the only one who can cook around here,” you can almost see how hard Jin is rolling his eyes at this statement.

“Hi Jungkook! Hi Yoongi!” you raise your voice to make sure you’re heard in their apartment.

“...hey.” you hear Yoongi close by, followed by Jungkook yelling across the room. “Hey M!! Jin won’t shut up about you, I think he might be in loooooove,” he singsongs.

“And that’s enough of that,” Jin swiftly turns off speakerphone and you can hear him much more clearly all of a sudden.

“Is it true? Are you in loooooove with me?” you mimic Jungkook’s voice.

“Have I ever told you how pretty your singing voice is?” Jin deflects smoothly. You’re so taken aback by the response, you don’t know what to say next.

“As I see I have made you speechless-I tend to have that effect on women-and men, actually...the world is just stunned by my beauty, honestly. No one is immune,” he derails quickly from wherever he was originally going with his sentence, and you giggle.

“Jinnie-you called me at 10am on a Saturday morning, because why…?” you steer the conversation back to where it needs to go.

“Ah yes...I called because I wanted to see if you wanted to cash in on that second date I promised you earlier this week tonight?” he questions.

“I think I would like that,” you smile, remembering your first date three days ago. He had taken you to dinner at a hole in the wall diner where he seemed to know all the elderly waitresses by name, and after the two of you had gone to a drive-in movie.

“Great. I’ll swing by your apartment to pick you up at 7, if that’s okay?” he sounds a little unsure of himself, unusual for him.

“Sounds perfect. Is there anything specific I should wear?”

“Just something casual, nothing fancy. I’ll see you then, pretty girl.”

“See you...oh, and Jinnie?” He hums in response.

“I missed you too,” you smile.

--------------------------------------------------

You flop back down on the couch after hanging up with a smile on your face. Jin’s very sweet, and not quite what you expected. He’s the lead guitarist for the band Gold Rush, who you’ve been a fan of for about half a year. You’d happened to catch them as the opening act for another band you’d gone to see, and immediately had fallen in love with their music. It didn’t hurt that all the band members were cute either...you’d only seen them that one time as an opener, until you’d seen a flier for a show of theirs at The Dynasty, a small local bar. You’d immediately decided to drag your best friend to see them, making it a game with yourself to try and get Jin’s attention, and to your surprise, it had worked. He and the drummer, Jungkook, had asked the two of you to hang out after the show. After grabbing food, Jin had asked for your number and taken you out on a date the next day, eagerly promising you a second the following weekend.

If you were being honest with yourself, Jin fell into the trap of being your ‘type’. He was in a band, could sing and play guitar, and had healthy (bordering on sometimes too much) self-esteem. He reminded you of your ex, Namjoon. Also in a band, also a lead guitarist, also could be full of himself. All Jin was missing was an undercut and a few scattered tattoos. You supposed Jungkook had enough for the two of them combined.

You sigh deeply as you wrap yourself back into your blanket. Namjoon had destroyed you when it came to relationships in some ways, even though he had started off as a rebound from another toxic relationship. He had fallen into all the stereotypical ‘guy in a band’ tropes: his needs were more important than yours, he had cheated on you multiple times with groupies, and he gaslit you when you tried to talk through what was going on. You had put up with his shit for far too long, until your best friend had opened your eyes to how different you’d become. Quiet, less likely to speak your mind, and even less willing to be social. Once you’d left him, you’d felt a giant weight lifted off your shoulders, but it had made you extremely wary of relationships.

Jin was cute, and you didn’t see the harm in a couple of dates. He was funny and talented, and he hadn’t pissed you off yet, which was a win in your book. There’s no way he was actually interested in a real relationship...he was clearly a flirt, as you’d witnessed the night you met when he gave you his guitar pick, and he was too busy. He was in a band that was trying to break into the larger music scene in your city. You’d both have your fun, and move on with your lives.

Right?

--------------------------------------------------

You busy yourself the rest of the day by completing household chores. By the time you’re getting ready for your date, you’ve managed to vacuum, do several loads of laundry, wash the dishes in your sink, and rearrange your bookshelf in your bedroom. You hop in the shower at 5:30, and contemplate your outfit choice while washing your hair. A sundress should work...it’s been warm outside lately, but it’s still cute while being casual. You’ll wear sneakers with it just in case you end up walking somewhere.

You throw on said sundress and sneakers after toweling off, and decide you’ll go for fun accessories-specifically a pair of dinosaur earrings and a crossbody bag in a bright shade of pink, swiping on a lipstick to match. You smile in approval at yourself in the mirror just as you hear a soft knock at the door.

You step into your living room, opening the door to see Jin looking rather nervous. “Hey handsome,” you grin. He’s wearing a pair of dark wash ripped jeans with a lavender hoodie that’s a little too big on him. Cute.

“Hey you...you look nice,” he returns your smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “You ready to go?”

“Yep! Where are we going?” you ask as you grab your keys and shut the door, making sure it’s locked behind you.

“Well, I figured we could start with a walk through the park. It’s still light out for a little while, but we might be able to catch the sunset...there’s also a great ice cream stand off one of the trails, so if you want to, we can grab some. After, I figured we could come back to your place and watch a movie, your pick, obviously. Does that sound okay?” he glances over at you as you both take the stairs down to the ground floor of your apartment building, opening the door for you as you reach the outside.

“Hmm…” you pretend to think as you turn to walk the two blocks to the park. Jin’s eyebrows raise, as he quickly jumps to conclusions-that the park was the worst idea you’d ever heard.

“I think it’s perfect. I’ll race you to the park, loser buys the other ice cream!!” You laugh and sprint off in the direction of the park, silently thanking yourself for wearing sneakers.

“You little...oh, come on!” Jin starts running as well, his long legs giving him an advantage as his wide strides let him catch up to you quicker than you thought. You’re neck and neck for most of the second block, sweat starting to form on both your brows.

“You’re...not...beating...me!” You huff, nimbly dodging around a pedestrian walking their dog.

“Oh...really?” Jin breathes out harshly, leaping over someone’s spilled smoothie in the middle of the sidewalk. You can both see the entrance to the park, it should only take a minute more to get there...suddenly, Jin puts on a burst of speed, sprinting his way to the entrance before you can even say anything in protest.

You arrive a few seconds later, huffing and puffing as you place your hands on your knees, trying to catch your breath.

“I believe you were saying something about me not beating you? What was that?” Jin is beaming, his eyes glinting mischievously as he looks down at you.

You still can’t manage to catch your breath enough for a response, so you settle instead for glaring daggers up at him.

“C’mon, loser. I promised you a leisurely walk, so let’s go...even though you already took us both for a run no one asked for,” Jin chuckles, grabbing your hand as you stand up and interlocking your fingers.

Your face warms, and not just from the sprinting. You’re surprised that Jin isn’t annoyed with you for pulling the stunt you just did...it wasn’t like you planned it exactly, but it worked well as a sort of test to see exactly how much nonsense Jin would put up with. So far, more than you thought he would. You smile to yourself.

“What’re you grinning about now? If it’s another race, I give up, you win!” Jin exclaims loudly, drawing stares from several passersby on the trail you’ve chosen.

“Shhh…” you shush him, trying to place a finger in front of his lips. He playfully bites at it before kissing it quickly. Your eyes widen. “People are staring,” you half-whisper, slightly embarrassed.

“...and? Let them stare. I’m on a date with a pretty girl, and I don’t care if the world knows! Isn’t Margot wonderful?!” he raises his voice for the last bit, that mischievous glint back in his eyes. The warmth from earlier returns, creeping even further up your face. You must be entirely red by now by the levels of heat you feel like you’re radiating. Jin takes advantage of your flustered state by taking your other hand and pulling you close. He wraps both arms tightly around you and buries his face in your hair, kissing you lightly on the top of the head. You pull away, eyes widened in wonderment at his actions. Who is this guy? You can’t quite figure him out.

“What? You’re pretty, I’m lucky you’re on a date with me, and I’m an affectionate guy. Sometimes. Well, maybe only with you. But only if you’re okay with it…” Jin rambles. His ears look close to emitting steam with how red they’re turning...you’re glad you’re not the only one being thrown off your game with how this date is going. It’s endearing how he switches so easily between being confident and shy depending on your reactions to him.

“C’mon, Jinnie...I think I owe you some ice cream, right?” you smile as you reach for his hand, leading him further along the trail you were walking along.

You walk along quietly for a bit, the silence only broken when Jin coos over dogs as you pass them. It warms your heart to see just how kind and soft he truly is...not what you expected from your previous experiences with a certain lead guitarist.

As you round a bend in the trail, Jin picks up the pace significantly, forcing you to speed walk to catch up. “Hey, where’s the fire?” you question, legs starting to burn as you attempt to keep pace.

“Huh? Oh sorry, the ice cream stand is just up here, I got excited.” He gestures ahead of the two of you with your intertwined hands. Sure enough, there’s a small ice cream stand a few paces away.

As you walk up, you see that the stand is manned by a kindly looking old woman who looks like she could be your grandmother. “Oh, you two are such a cute couple! How long have you been dating?” she asks.

“Oh, um...this is only our second date,” you answer, feeling slightly awkward.

“Could’ve fooled me! He looks at you like you hung the stars in the sky. What can I get you?” Jin coughs suddenly at the old woman’s observation, his ears reddening for the second time that night.

You look over to the menu propped up on the counter of the stand.

Vanilla

Chocolate

Strawberry

Mint Chocolate Chip

Cookies and Cream

“What do you say, Jinnie? Strawberry? Mint Chocolate Chip?”

“If I wanted to have mint flavored anything, I would have just brought my toothpaste with me...mint chocolate chip? How can you think so lowly of me?” he pouts at you, supremely offended that you even suggested such a thing.

“Okayyyyy...didn’t realize you were so picky about ice cream flavors. What do you want, then?” you roll your eyes at him, but not without grinning.

“I’ll take a vanilla cone, thankyouverymuch,” he replies grinning back at you.

“One vanilla cone, and one cookies and cream cone.” You hand the woman cash and she begins to fill your order. Soon after she is handing you both ice cream encased in freshly made waffle cones. You both thank her and continue your walk along the trail. You bite into the top of your ice cream, relishing the coolness in the warm evening that surrounds you.

“...you bite ice cream?” Jin is staring at you open-mouthed in horror.

“Yes? If I just licked it, it would all melt before I could eat it. Don’t judge me!” you glare over at Jin.

“Oh too late for that, sweetheart. First you asked if I wanted mint chocolate chip ice cream, and now I find out you bite your ice cream? What are you, a serial killer?” he raises an eyebrow at you questioningly.

“Wouldn’t you love to know?” you turn menacingly towards him, brandishing your cone like a weapon. “They call me...The Ice Cold Killer. Beware!”

“Ooo, I’m scared. Someone help me,” Jin chuckles, his empty hand raised in surrender as he takes a lick of his ice cream.

“You should be scared, handsome,” you continue walking towards him, raising your cone ever so slightly with each step.

“...what are you doing? Oh no, you don’t!” Just as you go to smush your cone into his face, he grabs both of your wrists. “I think not,” he grins, lowering your hands to the level of your waist.

“Boo, you’re no fun,” you pout, looking up at Jin. When he’s this close, it seems like he’s towering over you...and as you make eye contact, you notice his attention keeps flickering between your eyes and your lips.

“Oh, I can be lots of fun,” he whispers lowly as he leans in closer to you, so close you can feel his breath on your lips. Just as his lips start to ghost over your own, someone clears their throat behind you. You both spring apart, whipping around to see who’s interrupted you.

Tall, dressed in all black, tattoos scattered across both arms. A sneer on his face as he takes he two of you in with his gaze.

Namjoon.

-------------------------------------------

“Well, well, well...how’s it going, Margot? How’d you end up in the middle of the park with this loser?” Namjoon asks. You have no clue why he’s here, and it feels like you’re suddenly trapped in a nightmare. Jin looks confused, glancing between the two of you, trying to figure out how you’re connected.

“Don’t think too hard, lover boy. I can see the steam coming out from your ears with how hard you’re thinking about this-Margot and I used to date.” Namjoon provides, still with that same smirk on his face. Jin’s eyes widen in understanding, but then narrow again as he processes the way he’s being talked to.

“It’s Seokjin, actually. What are you doing here, Kim? Didn’t Gold Rush beat your stupid band in our last exhibition?” Jin spits out harshly.

Namjoon doesn’t deign to give him a response, instead turning back to you. “Margot, really...this is who you went to after me? You know he has no talent, right? Yoongi writes all their songs, and Jungkook is the visual draw for their band. I expected better of you…” he chuckles. “But maybe not...you never did know what was best for you. You let me walk all over you, didn’t you?” he smirks.

Jin moves to reply, but you’re faster. “Yes, I did let you walk all over me and treat me like shit for entirely too long, Namjoon. Thank goodness I had people in my life that cared enough about me to open my eyes to how much of a giant ASSHOLE you were...and Jin? Jin has more talent in his pinky than you’ll have your whole career-I would know because I spent entirely too long going to your boring shows. Jin has treated me better in two dates than you ever have! And how’s this for knowing what’s best for me?”

You stride forward, ice cream cone in hand, until you’re directly in front of Namjoon. Eyes wild, you lift your cone and smash it into his chest. Cookie bits and ice cream smear into his shirt as your waffle cone shatters into pieces on the ground.

“You bitch!” Namjoon roars, rearing back, looking for all the world like he’s about to slap you. Before he can get very far, a large hand wraps tightly around his wrist.

“Leave. Now.” Jin is glaring darkly at Namjoon from behind you. As Namjoon starts to speak, Jin tightens his grip. “I said...leave.”

Namjoon jerks his hand out of Jin’s grip and rubs his wrist where the other man’s hand was. “Fine. You two deserve each other,” he glares as he marches away.

Once Namjoon is out of sight, Jin immediately turns to you. “Margot, are you okay?” he rests his hands on your shoulders, looking into your eyes.

You’re frozen in place, still shocked at everything that just happened.

“...I just smashed an ice cream cone on Kim Namjoon…” you utter softly.

“Yes, you did. And it was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, if I’m being honest.” Jin rubs the back of his neck sheepishly with one hand, chuckling.

His comment brings you back into the moment. “Everything that just happened, and that’s all you can think of?” you ask him in disbelief.

“Not all!” Jin retorts. “I have a lot of thoughts right now: 1. How did the two of you ever date? 2. Why am I not surprised that he’s a giant asshole? He always is the worst any time we play shows at the same venue. 3. Yeah, my third thought is that you standing your ground and giving him what he deserves is hot, so sue me.”

You laugh. “Three thoughts isn’t a lot of thoughts, but yes, we did date a while, biggest mistake of my life. I fell for the tortured, tattooed lead guitarist thing.”

“Should I get tattoos then? I mean, I thought I was handsome enough as is, but if this,” he gestures at himself, “isn’t enough, then I’m happy to oblige. Your name in a heart with an arrow through it? A skull with a snake around it? You say the word, beautiful, I’ll do it.” he smirks playfully at you.

“Be careful what you wish for, or you’ll end up with a tattoo on your ass,” you giggle as you elbow him.

His eyes widen in momentary fear. “I’m kidding, silly. Let’s go back to my place and watch a movie.”

The two of you walk hand in hand through the rest of the park, Jin passing you his ice cream cone to share since yours ended up destroyed.

“I guess you really are The Ice Cold Killer...of ice cream cones, that is,” he remarks as you walk through the exit and head back to your apartment.

“I told you you should be scared.”

--------------------------------------------------

You both sink down into your couch once you arrive at your apartment, Jin placing a blanket over the two of you.

“So, what’s the feature presentation this evening?” he queries, putting an arm around your shoulders.

“Moulin Rouge!” you happily reply to his chagrin.

“...isn’t that a musical?” he asks, to which you nod in the affirmative.

“Is that a problem?” You knew that musicals were another one of your tests for the guys you dated. You did honestly enjoy them, but you needed to know if the men you dated would put up with them.

“Nope. I mean, I don’t think I would pick one, but I said it’s your choice. Plus, you’re the one who destroyed a douchebag tonight, so your pick is definitely earned.” He settles back into the couch as the movie starts to play, and you place your head on his shoulder. It fits perfectly into the crook of his neck, and the smell of his laundry detergent mixed with the park you just walked through is extremely comforting. So comforting in fact, you can feel your eyelids getting heavy about a third of the way through the movie.

The lack of background noise is what slowly wakes you up...the movie must be over. When did you fall asleep? You lift your head off of Jin’s shoulder, only to see he has remnants of tears on his face.

“Jinnie? What’s wrong?”

“Oh, you’re awake,” he says, quickly swiping at his face to remove any lingering evidence of his tears. “I...I cried at the end of the movie, that’s all. Satine died! Musicals are supposed to be happy-I’m appalled!”

Your heart feels like it’s blooming with all the warmth that’s spreading through your chest as you look at the man beside you. As you begin to say something in response, your eyes catch the digital clock blinking from your microwave across the room. 12:30AM.

“Oh, it’s late...do you want to stay over so you don’t have to go across town at this time? The busses stop running soon anyway.” Jin’s eyes grow wide at your question.

“N-Not like that! I meant to sleep, just sleep. Only if you want to!” You bury your face in your hands in embarrassment.

Jin reaches out and removes your hands from your face, tilting your chin up with his finger so you make eye contact with him.

“I’d love to,” he smiles softly at you, his hand remaining on your chin, pulling you slowly closer to him as he moves closer to you as well. Your faces are inches apart again, his breath ghosting over your lips.

“Is this okay?” he breathes.

You grab the sides of his face in response, crushing your lips to his. He is impossibly soft, and warm. His hands wrap around your back again, tenderly bringing you as close as he can to himself. He’s holding you as if you are tethering him to Earth, like you are what hung the stars in the sky. You sigh into the kiss, and he takes that as a cue to deepen the kiss further. He’s more insistent, holding you tighter. Before it can get too heated, you break apart for air.

“Sorry I got a little carried away,” he chuckles, gently pushing a strand of your hair behind your ear. You laugh as you clearly get a look at his face.

“What?” he pouts at you.

“Come here.” You stand up, pulling him with you to the bathroom attached to your bedroom. You flip the light on, positioning him in front of the mirror. As both of your eyes adjust to the extra light, his widen impossibly-he’s got pink lipstick messily smeared around his mouth from kissing you.

“So much for world wide handsome, huh?” you laugh.

He turns towards you. “I’ll have you know, I am handsome no matter what I look like!” he huffs indignantly. Nevertheless, he turns the faucet on and starts to wipe away the makeup.

You leave him to get ready for bed in the bathroom while you trudge to your closet to find something to change into, settling for an oversized tee with shorts. As you close the door behind you, Jin leaves the bathroom in only his boxers. Your eyes become wide as saucers as you notice his lack of clothing in addition to how in shape he is.

“Oh, um...sorry, I usually just sleep in these. I can put my shirt back on if I need to?” he questions shyly.

“No, you’re fine, I just don’t normally have half naked men walking around my apartment,” you laugh quietly.

Jin climbs into your bed and starts to scroll through his phone as you head into the bathroom to finish getting ready for bed yourself. You climb in beside him ten minutes later, turning your lamp off and staring up at the ceiling...you’re not sure exactly how this is supposed to go. You’re not in a relationship, but you’re in the same bed, and he had seen you completely lose your cool on your ex. What was even appropriate in this situation?

After what feels like an indeterminate amount of silence, Jin speaks into the dark.

“So...what exactly happened with you and Namjoon?” he sounds nervous, his voice much quieter than normal.

You sigh. “We met after one of his shows. He was charming at first, but then he started making everything about him and his band. Then he cheated on me. Three times. Gaslit me when I tried to talk to him about it. Long story short, it was a bad time,” you grimace, even though you know Jin can’t see you.

“...come here.”

You’re surprised that this is his response, but you comply by scooting next to him. He wraps an arm around you and squeezes tightly.

“You know I would never do any of those things, right?” He looks down at you with such warmth in his eyes, you can’t help but fold even further into him, your head on his bare chest.

“...I know,” you whisper, body still tense from talking about your ex. Jin traces shapes onto your back, helping you slow your breathing and relax.

Just as you’re about to fall asleep, Jin’s voice vibrates through his chest beneath you.

“I can’t believe my girlfriend is The Ice Cold Killer…” His own statement amuses him so much, his squeaky windshield wiper laugh makes an appearance.

“Hey! Who said anything about me being your girlfriend?” You prop yourself up enough to look him in the eyes.

“Oh please, if you thought after tonight I wouldn’t try to take you off the market, you are sorely mistaken...you’re perfect, pretty lady.” He smiles at you, faltering once he sees you raise your eyebrows at him.

“...only if you want to be my girlfriend, of course,” he adds softly.

You narrow your eyes at him. “I’m not perfect,” you state simply, lowering yourself back down onto his chest. Namjoon had made sure you knew that much.

“You’re perfect to me.” Jin leans down to place a tender kiss on top of your head.

You look back up at him. “You know you’re going to have to be one of my henchmen now, right? The Ice Cold Killer can’t do everything on her own.”

“Oh, I know. I plan on starting henchman duties in the morning when I make us pancakes, love.” Jin smiles softly down at you as you attempt to snuggle even closer.

It’s only the second date...but Jin feels like home. Maybe you’ll survive this relationship after all.

[hughiecampbelle]

Being Pollys Long Lost Child Would Include: (Part #1)

Showing up the Small Heath with nothing but a suitcase and a vague idea of where to go

You actually run into your cousins/brother before you even know who they are on the way there

Breaking through their group right down the middle, unaware of who the Peaky Blinders are

A few yell or tease, but you don't care, not when it's this important

Telling Michael to fuck off when he makes a comment about how rude you are, unaware he's actually your brother

Still, you won't let those assholes ruin your big day

Staring down the front door

What does someone say in a situation like this?

Sorry I didn't visit sooner, I never knew you existed? Did you ever give up a child so many years ago looks like you? Do you have any kids?

You barely knocked twice before the door swung open

You weren't sure who to picture. . . . the woman all those people described seemed like a million women. . . Sometimes she was a mastermind, other times a drunk, she could be feared or admired, smart or stupid. . .

Instead all you saw were her big brown eyes and look of distrust

"Yes?"

"Are you, uh. . . did you. . . I'm y/n, I think you might be my mother."

The statement comes out stuttered and flunky, but it's strikes her none of the less, leaving her quiet for a moment

Anna was dead, Michael had come home, but they never found her baby

She couldn't let herself get her hopes up, knowing anyone could have set you up to this now that business was growing and so was their list of enemies, but she couldn't deny you if it really was true

Against her own judgement, she let's you in before anyone sees you

She knew she shouldn't have, but when you're sitting there, before her, she can picture all the times you were a baby

How your features matched, though of course that had been a long time ago, maybe she was just making it up to match for her own good

She thought about you every day, about the life you could have lead, the person you would have become, it made her sad, but hopeful, the same way she felt when she thought about Anna

You let her look, and after a while, she spoke up

"What did you say your name was?"

It's not the name her baby had, but you were so young, she figured they could have renamed you the way Michael's parents had

You found yourself telling her everything, talking before you could stop yourself or even realize what you were saying, wanting to unveil something that would convince her you were hers

From your parents, to your siblings, your grades in school and all the detentions you'd gotten, the friends you made and the hobbies you had

You never told anyone about all the times you felt different, strange, like you didn't quite fit in, and yet you were telling a complete stranger all of it and more

It wasn't until you mentioned your baby blanket, the one you'd actually brought with you, did it catch her attention

That was one thing your parents neglected to change

Polly was the one to sew the holes in it, passing it down from your siblings to you, she recognized her own stitching

Suddenly you're in her arms, being called another name

You found her, you found your mother

If Polly could have kept you for herself, she would have, knowing the kind of world you were walking into, the dangers you would face by associating yourself with her

In return, she tells you about your brother and sister, stories about you as a baby, memories coming back before she can stop them

The time your sister dressed you up and pretended you were one of her dolls, when your brother thought he could trade you in for a puppy

Like Michael, you're thrown into the family before you know what's going on

The boys burst through the door, all of them talking at once, interrupting your time together

"What are you doing here?" You question, recognizing Michael

"Me? Who the fuck are you?" The two of you look to your mother and Polly knows, just by your fighting, you're her baby

Being introduced to an army of relatives all at once

Your cousins are welcoming, friendly, the oldest ones laughing, teasing about how chubby you were as a baby

Your attitude towards your brother doesn't change, he's a pain in the ass already, but you'd never had an older sibling before, you figured he wasn't the worst of the worst, right?

Besides, you barely know one another, you hope it'll get better the more you get to know one another

It doesn't take her long to explain the business

You're curious, and observant, two things that work in your favor and against your mothers

You're not naive either

Sure, you didn't grow up with any of this, and though your parents tried to shelter you, you always knew where to find trouble

The way they cling to one another, how the crowds disperse, the mere mention of your family name, the gleam from their caps, this was not the kind of business one would brag about being part of, at least not in the company of others

You weren't stupid

Still, Polly tries to keep you away, at a distance, as do the rest of your family

You're still a kid in their eyes, but you make that pretty hard

It becomes clear what your parents were trying to hide from you, protect you from, but you weren't scared like they were, you were fascinated

It also becomes clear how easy you fit into it all, becoming a shadow to your mother, your brother, anyone who will let you follow and watch until you show them just how much you've learned

This lifestyle was dangerous and addictive, and like the rest of your family, you understand the appeal, much to your mother's dismay

Eventually she lets you in, let's you practice shooting a gun with your brother, go to the bar with your cousins, sit in on family meetings

Her one rule is that you are never, under any circumstances, alone

You take to the lifestyle quite easy despite her fears

The feeling you've always had where you never could quite fit in with your family, your siblings, even the kids around you, it all went away

Being paired up with Finn a lot since you two are the youngest

You don't mind all the time though

He teaches you a lot of tricks with his brothers, the other blinders, ways to get people to listen to what he has to say, share all their secrets

You prove yourself not only worthy of the Gray name, but also your place in the business as well

You don't quite idolize Thomas as much as your brother does, and when you can't bite your tongue any longer, it can get you into trouble

Luckily, your mother is always ready to stick up for you

She catches herself calling you by the name she gave you, and though you're not quite ready to take it, you know she means well

"Fuck off, Michael."

"I'm telling mum you said that."

"Snitch."

Fighting with your brother becomes normal, not all out of hatred anymore, but a constant, dull annoyance

You begin to find your place here, in the job, the family, everything

Part of you hates to admit that you don't miss who you used to be, who you thought you were going to be

Your parents knew you were smart, but they always assumed you'd live a life like theirs, one of safety, predictability, a life that was boring

Here, you had a life of excitement, danger, one that kept you on your toes, where moving up in the world was something to work towards, not just dream of

Polly knew what you were leaving behind, and she wouldn't have stopped you or blamed you if you decided to turn back, but it was the happiest day of her life when you knocked on that door

You were giving her the second chance she always wanted

Your parents, on the other hand, are anything but happy

You call home a few times, assuring them you miss them, you're thinking of them, you might visit, and that you're happier than ever, but your parents know something is up

Word spreads quick in a small place like yours

Rumor spread you'd run off with a secret partner, skipped town after getting into trouble again, joined the circus

The more time that passed, the crazier they became

But your parents knew

They should have suspected you were lying from the beginning, that you were after the one thing you' d always asked about, that you figured out all along what they'd kept secret. . . . .

Now they regretted not seeing it before

It takes a little while for them to figure out where you went, where Polly ended up, but they found you again, and they were coming to bring you home once and for all

A/N: Ahhh okay I know I kinda left it on a cliffhanger!!! I hope this part was as good as the first!!! There might be a third idk yet :P