#every single song is just so <3<3 ''If i could be a constellation'' is just THE best. every song on the album is good.

[snowflop]

I forgot YouTube has a recap feature, yippee! I love music :)

[getosprettyboy]

Let Me Into Your Heart

Pairing : Remus Lupin x reader

Tags : nothing but fluff, drunk guy tries to get handsy.

Summary : Remus has been ignoring you for a while and you are going to find out why.

A/N : Sorry I deleted this, it didn't feel cute enough.

Dividers by cafekitsune.

It’s been 3 weeks and Remus has been ignoring you with all his might. It is extremely frustrating for you to deal with him like this.

First, it started with him not replying to you back a greeting you sent towards him. Then he would sit far away from you in the great hall and now whenever he sees you he runs towards the other direction. When you try to confront him he comes up with an excuse of how he is late for a class or something.

So you started sending him letters, and he replied to none of them. It was infuriating.

You almost gave up on him but then you remembered the memorable and fun times with him and how much you loved those moments together.

Like that one time in the common room…

❦

It was just the two of you in the common room with a vinyl record player playing some David Bowie songs to which you would occasionally bob your head while tracing the scars on his arms.

Suddenly you looked at Remus. The way his face would shine from the fire and how beautiful his scars looked on him. He isn’t fond of his scars and hates them but you think his scars form a beautiful pattern like constellations.

Remus saw you looking at him and spoke, careful not to break the peaceful atmosphere.

“What?”

“You have a pretty face Lupin.”

Remus flushed at your compliment and tried hiding his blush by deflecting the compliment.

“There is nothing really special about it.”

“There is. You have scars which I could trace to form constellations on and eyes as deep as the ocean and I fear if I look too deep into your eyes I might drown in them and might never be able to come back for air and that will be fine because I would rather die in those pools of water then never see your face again.

Remus just looked at you lovingly and asked, “Why do you like my scars so much?”

“Because they are a part of you and I love each and every single part of you Remus, even the ones you would call ugly. I will love them forever and always.”

“You’re acting like you’re in love with me,” Remus said half-jokingly.

“Maybe I am.”

Remus choked on the air with wide eyes.

“I’m joking silly,” You said as you lightly shoved him.

Remus nervously chuckled. It’s not like he is in love with you.

“Are you in love with me?” You asked with mischief glinting in your eyes.

“Who would fall in love with you?” Remus retorted.

“Oh my gosh, Remus, Shut up!” You said as you punched him in the arm.

“Ow.”

“It was well deserved.”

“Indeed.”

You both laughed at each other's antics when suddenly you stood up.

“Oh my gosh! Remus, Starman!!!”

Remus listened to the music carefully and you were right Starman by David Bowie was playing on the vinyl player.

You increased the volume and started singing the lyrics.

There’s a Starman

waiting in the sky

He’d like to come and meet us but he thinks he’d blow our minds

There’s a Starman

waiting in the sky

He’s told us not to blow it cus he knows it’s all worthwhile he told me

Let the children lose it

Let the children use it

Let all the children boogie

You stretched out your hand towards him and asked, “Remus John Lupin, may I please have this dance with you?”

“No.”

“Oh, come on now,” You whined.

“I don’t dance.”

“Oh yes, you do!”

You pulled him up and held both of his hands and swayed to the music.

Don't tell your poppa or he’ll get us locked up in fright

There’s a Starman

waiting in the sky

He’d like to come and meet us but he thinks he’d blow our minds

There’s a Starman

waiting in the sky

He’s told us not to blow it cus he knows it’s all worthwhile he told me

You both screamed the song at the top of your lungs. You both had never felt more alive.

❦

That was your favourite memory with him, unfortunately, that was the last conversation you had with him because, from the next day forwards, he ignored you and didn’t even give you a reason for it.

You have been trying to talk to him but he wouldn’t listen to you.

A few days later your birthday arrived and you were a pretty popular person because of your good looks and good grades. You were also very nice so people liked you and knew you. So it was no surprise when more than the people you invited came to your birthday party. Even Remus came. You did give him an invite through James but you didn’t think he would actually show up.

You were greeting your multitude of guests when you saw Remus approaching you.

“Happy birthday Y/N,” Remus said handing you your gift.

“Thank you, Remus, how are you?” You asked.

“I’m good, you?”

“I’m great."

"Are you sure because you haven’t been talking to-”

“I think I heard Sirius calling me, I gotta go bye.” He quickly said running away from you.

You saw him rushing into the crowd of people to get away from you and it hurt to know that he didn’t want to be in our company.

“Enjoy the party.” You murmured with a frown.

❦

Remus pushed towards the crowd of people and saw Sirius flirting with a girl with long brown hair but suddenly a girl came out of nowhere and started shouting at them. The angry asked Sirius something to which Sirius with wide eyes shook his head and she took the other girl’s arm and dragged her off somewhere.

Remus then approached Sirius.

“What was that all about?” Remus asked.

“The angry girl was the girl’s girlfriend,” Sirius replied.

“You really are a homewrecker.”

“I didn’t know!!! What about you?!”

“What about me?”

“Did you tell Y/N how you feel about her?”

“What are you talking about.”

“Moony, I see how you look at her, in fact, we all do.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“Oh my- Just take this.” He hands Remus a shot of fire whiskey. “And don’t come back until you confess to her.”

Remus looked at him dully.

“Come on, Moony you can do it.”

“Fine.” Remus drank the shot and walked to where he last saw you.

He wasn’t actually going to confess to you, he was going back to his room and was going to read a nice book and go to sleep. If he wanted to confess to you he would’ve probably done it at the beginning of the semester but the fear of rejection took over. That’s why he has been ignoring you. He thinks if he stays away from you for a while he will lose feeling for you, which is unfortunately not working.

As he was heading to the boy's dormitory he saw a guy leaning on you a little too close while you were looking uncomfortable. His hand was slowly snaking around your waist as he got closer. You put a hand between your faces and said no but the guy wouldn't budge and kept getting close to you.

Remus saw red. He walked long paces towards you both and as you saw him relief washed over you.

“Hey, hands off her,” Remus said as he pushed the guy extra hard just so he could come to his senses. He looked very drunk and could barely stand up.

“Move. I and the pretty lady were having a conversation over here.” He slurred his words together.

“I don’t think so. So I’ll ask you politely, kindly fuck off."

Remus took your arm and led you to a more secluded place with the music echoing through the walls.

You sat down on the floor with your hands hugging your knees with later Remus following you and sitting beside you.

“Are you ok?” Remus asked.

“Why do you suddenly care?” You asked back.

“I've always cared for you Y/N,” Remus replied.

“Then why have you been ignoring me?” You retorted.

“I have my reasons.”

“What are they?’

“I can't tell you that.”

“Remus please tell me I want to know if you still even want to be my friend!”

“I do want to be your friend, I really do.”

“Then what is it? you won't talk to me, you won't reply to my letters what is it just tell me!”

“I-”

“Just spit it out!!”

“Because I like you. I really really like you.”

Silence.

He shouldn’t have said it. Remus really shouldn’t have said it. It was all Sirius’ fault for giving him the liquid courage and making him confess to you. Oh how he hated himself right now, now all he did was wait for you to laugh and make fun of him.

“Are you kidding me?! Are you stupid or something? why didn't you tell me?”

“So I wouldn't get rejected,” Remus replied quietly.

“Are you dense or something you fucking idiot?!”

“If you do not like me just tell me why you have to yell?” Remus replied a bit annoyed by your tone.

“I like you too you daft giraffe.”

“That's new, wait what?” Remus looked at you surprised.

“I've been giving you hints since the start of the semester. I've been flirting with you, I’ve been gifting you stuff, I've been sitting next to you at every chance I got I even shared my goddamn food with you!”

“I thought you were being friendly.”

“You bloody twat.” You shouted at him as you hit him on his arm.

“Ow.”

“It was well deserved.”

"Indeed."

“So.. you wanna kiss,” Remus asked with a warm smile on his face.

“Is that really a question?"

You grabbed his collar and pulled him in for the kiss. It was a sweet and sensual kiss with no hurry in it. You both savoured the kiss like it was your last. As soon as you both pulled away from the kiss, you laughed at him.

“What?” He asked smiling at you.

“You’re really dumb you know that.”

“That’s why you love me.”

“Oh, shut up.”

[immortalbutterflycos]

I've come to realize something important in writing. (specifically in my personal experience)

(TLDR; I have ADHD and writing is hard even though I'm still doing it every single day. Make it make sense.)

If you have a story in your head that means a lot to you, and you need to take more time to develop and fully flesh it out before posting it, that's totally okay! In fact, in my experience, it has the potential to make the story better over time, really forming it into what you imagine it to be.

Here's an example because I just typed a lot of words and right now I can't seem to process whether they make sense or not.

I have a fanfic that I've been working on for a year now. (For the Marauders fandom if y'all are curious)

It's one that I haven't talked about much because every time I do, I end up losing the motivation to write. This is what happened to another one of my fics for the Haikyuu fandom. (well that and the Marauders.. yeah they fucked me up in the best way and Freckles and Constellations has really suffered because of it smh)

So the reason why this fic is taking so long is because it is such a specific AU that I'm out here trying to meld magic systems, and I've got like EIGHT MAIN CHARACTERS to write backstories for to fit this AU while also being true to them and even though I know the basic plot, there are just so many little details and aspects that will make this fic what I desperately need it to be.

And no one knows just how intricate it is or how important it is to me. Which is totally fine. I don't even know if people are going to read it when I finally manage to post it. This fic is purely self-indulgent.

let me just break down for you what I have prepared for this already:

countless drabbles and scenes and plans written on the backs of receipts and on bits of scrap paper

a 3" 3-ring binder that I've been trying to organize it all in

a google doc titled "TAoRfOL Doc Masterlist" that has links to every single doc I have for this one fic. (it's dated back to March of last year and as of this month has 93 total links. Only 5 of those are reference links.)

notes and ideas i have written in my phone to transfer into docs so I can add them to the masterlist

Hero Forge digital models of those 8 main characters because I wanted to see what their group would look like outside of my imagination

Multiple Spotify playlists dedicated to this fic and the characters which I listen to every single day. (currently @ 494 songs)

And you know what? I just recently, at 6 am this morning, finally figured out the solution to a fucking plot hole I could not work around.

Basically what I'm saying is that I needed all of this time. Every single day I see things and get inspiration. Every day I learn new things and fix errors in my own plans.

As much as I crave the validation and recognition for all of my hard work on this project, I know that If I had just bit the bullet and posted the first chapter without having done all of this research and all of this planning, then it would not have lived up to the story I have in my head.

I admire people who can just write without all of the added steps and in some cases, I can do that. I haven't been able to in a while (which is why that Valentine's Day microfic was actually really big for me to have posted) but that's just how my brain works.

I needed all of my experiences and all of my daily thoughts and all of my collective playlists for this fic to be able to write the story I intended and that is exactly what I'm going to do.

(though if I'm being honest, this timeline is rough. I really want to just write and post this first chapter so so so bad. ToT)

[thebestofoneshots]

hi lilly!! how u doing?? i just wanted to say that i really admire all of ur work, like, its really amazing, interesting and well written, i genuinely get excited every time a new chapter drops out, its lovely to see all the dedication and love u put into it 💗

p.s would u mind sharing some writing tips? im really struggling with an artistic block n none of the shit i write convince me. hope u have a great day ^^ !!!

Hey darling! I'm doing good, a little behind on my writing schedule since I've been a little busy with work and life but good nonetheless.

I too get excited when a new chapter drops bc it means I'll get to see your comments and nothing makes me happier I swear! It's my favourite part of the week <3

In regards of your artistic block, have you tried reading a bit more of things you like? I find reading stuff I like can inspire me to do my own thing, be it a twist on a prompt, or a new prompt altogether.

On that same line, songs can be a great muse for inspiration, I mean, Point of Know Return (Fic planned after GC) came from a song from the same name. Animal and Temporary High will be fics for Marauderween that were also loosely inspired by these songs. Sometimes you can inspire yourself to create art by using other forms of art as muses.

Now, that's in regards to getting started, now in regards to becoming better, there are only two ways in which you can do that (and they're linked to each other).

First of all, you have to read a lot. It doesn't matter if you're reading classics, best sellers, webtoons or even fanfics. Just make sure whatever it is you are reading, has words and or phrases that you think are interesting.

Some of the best ways to describe people's reactions, I have learned from fanfiction, so trust me on this one, as long as you aspire to be like the writer you're reading, you're on a good path.

And the second one, writing. This one might be cliché: "If you wanna be a writer, write," said every single writer ever. But there is a reason for this: the only way to improve is to practice.

And I KNOW writing for the sake of it can be exhausting, especially when you start setting yourself time minimus or word minimus and such, but trust me IT IS WORTH IT!

Some of the best stuff I've written for GC (not all of it) have come from moments in which I wasn't quite feeling "it" but I forced myself to continue writing because I knew I had to post (Now be careful with the "forcing" part, you do not want to overexert yourself, but you do want to put in a bit of effort).

So yeah, it really does narrow down into reading and writing is the way to go (alternatively, you could also find movies with the vibe you're going for and watch those, I mean I went straight to watch Dreamers when I knew I wanted to write a trhouple so...).

Now I'm no expert, but I hope this helps you with that pesky writer's block, sending you all the love xx

Read Gilded Constellations

[barnesafterglow]

it's hard to believe that it's been an entire year since i posted my very first fic on this account. it feels like so much longer and at the same time like no time has passed at all. despite all the ups and downs that i've had on here, with my writing and otherwise, i am so so grateful for this community and all the friends i've made on here.

i'm big on celebrating, so i thought i could do a little sleepover in honor of my one year anniversary! since tomorrow (july 14th) is my official post date, i won't be answering asks until then, but feel free to start sending them as soon as you want! i'll keep answering asks all weekend, until sunday july 17th. i will be out of town all weekend, so these will likely be answered later in the evening in bulk rather than through out the day, but i will get to all of them!!

thank you so much to everyone who has ever supported me on here, your encouragement and comments are the reason i'm still around. thank you @pellucid-constellations for being my best friend in the whole world. if tumblr brought me anything, i'm so glad it was you. and another special thanks to @itistimeforusalltodecidewhoweare, not only for helping me so much with this sleepover, but being my constant hype woman and spring board for ideas, even when i don't think i deserve it. i could type out paragraphs for every single one of you but i really think i would cry, so i'll leave it at those two

so without further ado, here's the setup of the sleepover:

- you don’t have to be following me to participate and feel free to send as many asks as you like!!

📰 local news: i'll put my everyday playlist on shuffle and rec you a song!

📰 international news: send me any recommendations you have for tv shows, movies, books, songs, etc!

📰 entertainment: any of your typical sleepover games! (fmk, would you rather, top 5 or anything else you can think of!)

📰 society pages: send me any cast your mutuals (or share some hot gossip ;)

📰 comic strips: send me a song, aesthetic, or prompt + a character (or not!) and i'll make a lil moodboard based on it

📰 sports: send me a description of yourself/a fun fact + a fandom (marvel or stranger things) and i'll ship you with a character!

📰 advice column: anonymously (or not) send me any burning questions you have about love, life, etc (do not take anything i say seriously, please)

📰 classifieds: recommend some of your own fics or just some fics you love! i read everything from marvel to stranger things to star wars to harry potter, so pretty much anything is fair game if you wanna shout yourself or someone else out!

📰 letter to the editor: ask me any questions you have about fics i've written, any WIPs, writing in general, or just any questions you may have about me as a person!

no pressure tagging some mutuals <3

@sweetdreamsbuck @sweetascanbee @foreverindreamlandd @spidderboy @fandoms-writings @writing-for-marvel @softlysteven @lilacletter @treatbuckywkisses @smokeinherperfume @abovethesmokestacks @aphrogeneias @jadedvibes @atlaese @bemine-bucky @inklore @majestyeverlasting @asgardwinter @bubblebuckys

[maybe-your-left]

BITCH PICTURE THIS.

Young Jedi Benji baby and you, always sneaking off and hiding your relationship. There’s sexual tension every time you sneak away to smooch. Any hidden place, sneaking into each other’s rooms after dark. Just think - HEAVY PETTING.

Do with this information what you will👀

did i write this to set up for a commander-ren canonverse fic?

yes.

do i have time to add another fic to my agenda?

no.

am i going to do it anyway?

yes.

enjoy :)

______

High Chosen

jedi Ben Solo x jedi Female Reader

kylo ren x female reader

some music for the mood: https://youtu.be/pbyC8wYyoBs

—

There are moments. 

Moments, where everything is at peace. When you can sit down and breathe for the very first time, and clear every thought inside your brain. As it bounced around your skull, not punishing it for being there. 

Just acknowledging and moving along. 

Master Luke loves these moments. 

Sends you to different areas of the island, to soak up the sun, breathe in the sea air. Listen to a porg chirp at its family, where you can feel the universe become whole. 

There is no darkness, no voices, no threats or danger, there is only you. 

He tells you about it every morning when you rise with the sun and join on the morning hike. Bracing yourself against the harsh elements of the world around you, unable to ask for help. Jedis are not supposed to need it-no attachments-be free from the bonds of humanity. 

But when you sit, on your slab of rock, smoothed from months of perching upon it. You don’t feel the connection with nature or hear the songs of birds or the cries of people who need your help. 

You see a single image, a bright light. The sun, eclipsed by a shadow, standing tall, carved out by ages before it. Knowing of the heritage on its broad shoulders, every day it gets closer and closer until you can see its fingertips almost touch… 

“That’ll be all for today, young padawans,” Master luke’s voice breaks the connection, sending a sharp pain to throb at the base of your skull. Only soothed by the touch of another-forbidden. 

You slowly stand, brushing off the dust that accumulated while you were meditating. Seeing the others groaning, a few laughing how their backs hurt from sitting so straight. 

Years ago, you would’ve agreed, the rigidness of the body has to be as dedicated as the mind. When you aren’t committed, nothing will change. 

But that was before. 

Before him. 

“Join me.” 

“Please.” 

—— 3 years ago ——- 

“Ben!” 

You squealed from the shores, ripping off your outer layers so you could run into the ocean. Giggling as the winds whipped your hair away from your face, freezing from head to toe as you stepped into the sharp sea. 

There was nothing like it, every Sunday you would run down the edge of the island. Almost falling on your face down the cliff, plummet to your doom. But you’d catch yourself, on something each time. Brought to you by your noble friend, caretaker, Ben. 

He had explained to you a thousand times before how you should be careful. Not run away from the group, even if it was the jedis rest day, you had to wake up!

You squealed from the waves, arms flailing in the salty air at the beach where Ben stood. Arms crossed and a scowl on his face, there were days where it would fade. 

Maybe even a dimple of a smile would appear, watching the waves crash over you before rushing to the shoreline. Desperate to catch your breath before staring at the sun rising, “Brisk today, isn’t it?” 

And Ben would always nod, and say, “Just like before.” 

But this morning he changed the routine, stripping on the beach, down to his tunic, you stared with wide eyes as the wraps on his forearms were bared to you and all the gods above. 

You’d never seen him without layers of beige you all were forced to wear, unable to see the pale flesh that lived beneath. Littered with constellations of freckles and moles, you stood solid against the current whipping around your shoulders. 

Feeling the force thrum through the air as he approached. Ben's jaw was clenched tight, glaring at the sky as you would usually. 

“Why do you do this!?” 

You stared at his throat bob as he hissed out pained breath after breath, no longer feeling the chill nip of the wintery waves but a warmth in your cheeks. 

Spreading down your chest, and deep into your soul. 

Your voice was small, barely a whisper over the ocean who demanded to be heard. 

“It reminds me that I’m alive.“ 

——— 

Every week, Ben joins you in the waves. 

Shows you new tricks, recently he’s been throwing balls of water at the back of your head. When you whine about not wanting to get your face wet, the showers were sparse and the ocean wasn’t as cleansing as one would imagine. 

You were hiding behind a large boulder, waiting in the waves for Ben to rush out and find you. Mind focused on creating a wave to finally knock him over so you could win your little game, be on top for once! 

Ben was silent, slowly moving. You could practically see it, the water lapping across his abdomen. Turning red from the piercing cold of the waves-but he never shivered. Or complained after the first time, so neither did you, instead engulfed by his presence. 

You scrunched into yourself more, seeing his hand reach out past the boulder. 

Reaching towards the dark gray abyss of clouds that Master Luke had warned was coming. To hide in your huts until it was safe, there was no changing mother nature's course. 

You watch carefully, feeling the force flow through his legs. Grounded at the bottom and up towards his finger tips. Crackling with life, how you wished you were as strong as him. 

But no one would surpass Ben-he was born to be great. 

You wanted to reach out, maybe feel some of the power he exuded when suddenly the sky cracked. Ben's hand shot towards you in a rush of rain and waves over taking your feeble form. 

You were sure you blacked out, only seeing the same image over and over again. 

A cold layer of snow, blanketing something dark and red, gasping in sharp breaths while the liquid stained whoever’s soul was laid to waste there… 

“We have to hurry,” Ben's voice cut through your fogged psyche. He fumbled with your clothes, trying and failing to wrap you in your lavender robes before giving up and hauling you in his arms. 

You stared out at the sea, watching the swirling vortex of rain contort into a face. Riddled with scars and screaming for whoever could hear. 

And the sharp pain was back, as Ben kicked through the small door of your hut. 

Laying you down on your cot, you finally focused on him. His face scrunched in fear, scared, blinking wildly while he tried to brush the bits of sand and sea that stuck. 

You tried to speak, overcome with the emotion of seeing him. Needing him-after so long of being friends you felt something different. That you couldn’t ever be without, and you lunged. 

Wet hands clasping onto his shivering jaw, succumbing to the most human of urges as your lips met. 

Ben froze. 

You squeezed your eyes shut, not wanting to see him reject you, claiming that the jedi are not allowed this mortal feeling. They are above it-you couldn’t let it sway you to the darkness inside. 

But instead of the lecture you were sure to hear, he melted. 

A soft moan slipping through his lips as they pressed hungrily to your own. You pushed your fingers through his sandy hair, creating two knots to grab onto while your tongues licked for entrance. 

He tasted divine, like pure sin and absolution mixed into one. You felt truly at peace, scratching your nails against his scalp until he collapsed on top of you. 

Two bodies shivering from the cold, Ben leaned on his forearm, looking into your eyes for a brief moment before kissing you once again. 

You pressed your chest into his, nipples tightening through the damp fabric that separates you. His muscles tightening under the light scrape, you gasped into his mouth, “Oh, please.” 

The words barely tumbled out before you realized, a whine falling as he pulled away. Hands clasped to his own face as he stared into the lamp by your bedside. 

“No-no-no-no!” 

You watched him pace the room, talking to himself in low tones. Almost wrestling with a demon, you could feel the air charge around you, as deadly as the storm outside as it raged on inside you both. You rushed to him, without thinking you grabbed his arms. 

“It’s okay! Ben,” you gasped before you were zapped with a sharp pain. Cowering against the sidewall of your hut, cradling your hands to your chest. 

Ben blinked for a moment, both of you registering what he had done. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, shaking his hands to rid them of the poison that flowed, you watched him re approach your bedside. Leaned on his palms, “I didn’t-I didn’t mean to. It's just-we aren’t supposed to.” 

“I know,” you squeaked, trembling as you watched his pointer finger move to touch the tips of your shaking feet. The sharp pain lighter now, like a soft ember glowing in a fire. 

You looked down together, seeing his large palm engulf your ankle. Tugging you from the dark corner and flat on your back, Ben swallowed, “I should go, I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

Leaving you, with only a chaste kiss on the lips that tingle throughout the storm. 

——- 

You thought about that moment over and over, turning it in your mind while you tried to sleep. 

Days went by, and no change in your routine, it was like it never happened to him. Still brooding and silent during your hikes across the mountains, through the dark waves of the island. In meditation sessions, you watched him floating above everyone else, unable to take your eyes off his scrunched face. 

But something was different, you could feel it. 

A string tied the two of you together, from the place where your chests had lightly touched, you caressed your sternum at night. Under the dim glow of the fire, you pressed into the contusion of skin and bone and took a deep breath. 

Seeing it again, that scene in the forest. 

Snowflakes cascading down, hitting your frostbitten face. You hummed as you felt it melt on your skin, blinking awake to the sight of a body laying on the ground. Shivering, hulking, a mass of muscle shrouded by darkness. 

A trail led your footsteps towards the beast, breathing rasping against the fallen snow. 

You reached out, feeling the force flow through the bond. Eternally tethered now to this thing. 

Kylo? 

Your voice whispered the word, rolled it along your tongue. Oh-yes, it tasted decadent, just like Ben's fleeting kisses. You licked your lips, moaning a little as you approached the being once more, the pain in your chest rising and rising until you were in front of it. 

You could almost see its face… 

“What are you doing?” 

Ben's words ripped you from your vision, shooting off your cot gasping for air. Like you were pulled from the dark waters at the shores of your hut. You clutched your chest, trying to keep your modesty, you’d been laying in the nude. 

Caressing your chest by yourself wasn’t something he needed to witness, draping your tunic from your waist over your heaving breasts. 

“What?” 

He moved into the dim light, the door to your hut closed behind him. Shrugging as he sat down on your cot, creaking under his weight, “What were you doing? I could hear you mumbling something?” 

Confusion painted your brow, how could he have heard you? His hut was the farthest away from yours, unless he was… “Were you spying on me, Ben?” 

His cheeks flushed, jackpot. 

“You were!” 

You squealed, leaning into his side playfully to jostle him from another mood. 

“I wasn’t-I just heard you and it seemed like you were in pain.” 

“I’m okay,” you whispered, rubbing the spot on your chest that soothed with his touch. You nuzzled your cheek into his rough shoulder. Fabric scraping only a little, it felt good to touch him again. 

Ben's cheek fell to the top of your head, a heavy sigh followed before he placed a tentative hand on your back. Bareskin under his thumb, slipping it a few times under the top hem, so soft and smooth. 

“I’m worried about us.” 

You stiffened, mind beginning to race, “Did you-you didn’t tell Luke about our…kiss?” 

His exhale took much too long, you shifted. Ready to hear his lecture, or for your mentor to burst through the door and rip you away from Ben. To never see the man next to you again, you weren’t worthy… not of a jedi or even be a jedi yourself. 

What if you were taken away? Would the pain worsen? Would the bond sever? Would you never feel this way again, only to be in deep pain through the end of days? 

“I feel it too,” Ben whispered, slipping his hand to one of your own. Unclutching it from your dressing, he brought it to his chest, “Right here.” Tapping against the sternum with your fingers folded together between his own. 

“What does it mean?” 

He kept your fingers between his own, letting the hands sag like his shoulders. You studied his profile, blinking slowly while he stared off at the powdery ground of your hut. Your swallow loud enough for your collective ears to pop, you were about to speak when his voice caught you off guard. 

“It can’t be good.” 

It was like he was speaking to himself, shaking his head before looking back at your face. You blinked with him, eyes snapping towards his rosy lips, and suddenly he was on top of you. Pressing your mouths together in a  desperate passion that caught you off guard, arms slung around his neck while his tongue quested inside you. 

Tangling in a duel, you moaned into him. Relaxing under the pressure as more of him joined your limbs on the cot, pressing your bodies together. Ben's hands came to rest on your cheeks, moving down to wrap dangerously around your throat. 

Snapping tight around the column, you felt the shaking and sweating from his palms mixing with your slickening skin. Tight-you gasped for breath, kiss bitten lips stringing together with some saliva that snapped onto your chins. You glanced down, your tunic pulled enough to expose your naked skin. 

Stiff peaks rubbing against the stringy fabric of his own, Ben looked down. Keeping his hands around your throat, he cleared his, “Oh.” 

“Ben,” you whispered, hands coming up to paw at his shoulders. 

Unknown if they were to help him get off you, fix the mistake of your nudity, or to disrobe him. 

Ben quickly sat up on his knees, thighs between your spread ones. Hands like lightning towards the sash across his chest, it shrugged forward as he divested himself. Throwing it off to the dusty floor in a poof of air. Naked skin, you'd seen it before at the shoreline, but it was so different… 

Bruised. 

Your brow furrowed, reaching out to touch the largest, “Ben, where-how did you get these?” 

“It doesn’t matter.” 

His hands landed on your shoulders, thumbs rubbing the skin once, twice, three times before moving to join at your sternum. 

Pressing at the center, “I feel you, right here.” 

You nodded, sliding your palms up the length of his arms until you mirrored his movements. Tapping the bone under your fingertips, “It usually aches.” 

“But does it now?” 

“No.” 

A deep breath. 

“Never when I’m with you.” 

Ben smirked a little, barely a movement of his lips before he moved his palms to touch the bounty of your body. Holding your breasts delicately, rolling them under his hand. You sighed in pleasure, you’d touched yourself like this in the past, just to know what it would feel like if the moment ever came. To feel the flesh bounce under another's touch-electric. 

His thumbs came down over the stiff budding of your nipples, pinching softly. 

“Oh.” 

Ben nodded, “Do you like that?” 

You mirrored his nod, letting your hands fall away from his shoulders and bounce on the bedding around your head. Lifting your chest into his touch while he pet and pinched every inch of your flesh exposed to him until he made his way to where your sheet was wrapped around your hips. 

Wiggling his fingertips between the fabric and your bareskin, you glanced towards one another. The question floating around between the both, you felt a strong pull emanate from the center of your chest. Beating harder and harder as he tugged on the fabric until it came loose from your cocoon. “Ben,” you were breathless, watching him as the ache increased. “Ben, we shouldn’t-”

“Doesn’t it hurt?” he asked without looking at you, just pulling the fabric from your center that was opening for his hungry eyes, “We could make each other feel better, like this.” 

Your head pounded with the millions of reasons as to why it was a bad idea, forbidden for you to have such a relationship. But your heart, it was beating for every touch he was giving you. Ache soothed by the balmy touch of his palms against your sensitive inner thighs. 

Angled for him to touch and play with, you gasped as his fingers found your center. Playing with the skin of your outer lips, his own opened in awe of your form. Your eyes rolled back as he touched more, rubbing his thumbs up and down on the skin as it grew slick and dewy from your core, hot to the touch. 

You gasped as his hot breath hit you, snapping down to see his face inches away. Eyes wide and bouncing around his skull while he leaned in, moaning as his hot tongue flicked out for the first taste. 

The noise that fell out of your was foreign, not a cry or a sob. But a squeak as he repeated it again and again, Ben buried his nose against your mound, blissfully taking in your essence as more dripped out from your candy center. 

Soon you were riding his face, chasing your release as he ground down. Hands roaming your body before him, squeezing and smacking at your breasts in his hold. Grasping at his silky hair between your legs while your thighs shook from the pure pleasure he was rocking you towards. 

“Be quiet,” he mumbled into your skin, kissing your innermost thigh with slippery lips, “We can’t be found.” 

“No,” you agreed, eyes squeezed shut as you urged him with your hips to continue. You were so close to something big, cresting over the edge of the hill you tried to climb every day with no one by your side. But Ben was taking you there, hand in hand, with his flickering tongue dancing between your folds and smacking inside your entrance. 

Fluttering inside you, scooping out the wetness that smeared across his chin. Oh, you cooed just as the snap in your chest seemed to break. The damp between your legs grew as your legs shook again and Ben's hand smacked around your mouth right as you were to let out a blood curdling scream into the dim light of your hut. 

Panting against his skin, you watched as he released your core, wiping his mouth against your sheet before pulling away from you. Standing in the center of your room, hands on his hips and chest breathing in deeply. 

You laid against your pillow, studying his face flash through a range of emotions before closing his eyes and exhaling through his nose. 

“I shouldn’t have done that.” 

“Ben,” you reached out towards him, hand trembling as your chest began to ache more and more the further away he stepped. “Its fine-” 

“You’re making me feel things that I know I’m not supposed to.” 

You stopped, leaning back with your hands in your lap while his eyes met yours. Different, they were different now. Rimmed with tints of gold rather than the usual blackness you could drown in, bright. 

“I have to go.” 

—------

The sky is on fire. 

Everything around you billows with smoke and ash, falling on your untainted shoulders as you run from the temple. 

Screams ringing in your ears, loud enough for you to know you’ll never live another day without remembering the pained cries. You stood in the center of the temple square, or what was left of it as the alarms rang around you. 

Staring at the flames that licked every corner of it, your friends were all trapped inside. You couldn’t get to them, forced to watch everything you’d help build burn to the ground before your very eyes. 

Your chest ached, oh, it ached as you stumbled over pieces of rubble towards the hills in the distance. You needed to get out of there, but you couldn’t bring yourself to move. Not until you knew, knew that he was safe. 

Ben had to be safe-he had to be. 

Tears streamed your cheeks as you thought of the immense pain never going away, tethering you and him together. Only to be soothed by the other touch-you had to find him. 

Your bare feet stung as you climbed over a fallen pillar, charred from whatever caused the mayhem to ensue. The staircase towards the heart of the temple littered with bodies that you didn’t know were dead or alive, you didn’t stop to check as the smoke became thicker and thicker. 

Coating your throat like his hands had before. 

“Ben!” you screamed out, met with nothing but the sound of the wind whipping through the skies, the sea raging on behind you. 

“Ben! Ben-please!” 

You scrambled up the stairs, running now, determined to find him. Throwing rocks and other debris out of the way with the force and your bare hands, every blank stare met with the cold realization that it wasn’t him. 

Where? 

Where could he be? 

You looked around as you made it to the center, flames all around the hall while you coughed and choked on your very last breaths. 

This was it, you’d never see him again. 

Your eyes grew tired, blinking slowly as the poison made its way into your lungs. A sound echoing around your skull as you took in the last image of your temple, footsteps approached you. 

A figure, shrouded in black, darkness coming to meet you firsthand. Devoid of all light as you scanned up the body, until it stopped at their face. 

Half covered by an unknown shadow, a gloved hand reached out for you to take. 

“Join me, please.”

And as the words rolled off their tongue, you recognized the face of your dear friend. 

“Ben?” 

_____

we love villain origin stories

<3

[boggleoflight]

Share 5 songs that remind me of my WIP/characters:

Tagged by the ever-wonderful @lookbluesoup, thank you again!! :3

I would do this with both F'yllis and F'ystran but unfortunately, poor Ystran's playlist is still very much a work in progress, so we'll stick to Yllis for now!

New Constellations - Ryn Weaver - F'yllis began her journey grieving for what had once been a confidence in her understanding of the world. She has always been curious and restless, with a lot of wanderlust, and with the Calamity throwing everything off-kilter, she knew her stationary life could no longer continue. This is what I consider her true theme song. "And those dizzy stargazers who dreamed of the black / Kept their heads in the clouds, and they never looked back / They kept wandering and never did they look down."

Funeral Bell - PHILDEL - F'yllis holds onto her grief, loss, and guilt very firmly, and it can follow her if she doesn't take the time to cope and unpack it. It can also compound on her thoughts on her own mortality, which are complicated and difficult for her to untangle. "Shadow in black, you are grim from your reaping / Oh, can't you spare just a day for the weeping?"

Blood Upon The Snow - Hozier - For those moments in her journey when she feels particularly heavy and everything feels cruelly inevitable, and she feels in those rare moments the sting of doubt setting in. "I've walked the earth and there are so few here that know / How dark the night and just how cold the wind can blow"

New River - The Oh Hellos - She grows and changes a lot over the course of her journey and through her traumas. Not always in good ways or ways she would have liked, and that's something she ends up having to learn to cope with, but she eventually comes to appreciate the shapes that she has taken and even look forward to the ways she might change in the future. "And though the eons may pass as slow as the sands of an hourglass / Every grain that we've counted / Claims that even the mountains can change"

Two - Sleeping at Last - Very much indicative of her relationship with G'raha (both perspectives), but also just her mindset in general. She would do anything to do good by him and even the world at large, often to her own detriment. It takes a lot of love for her to start caring about herself. "Like a force to be reckoned with / A mighty ocean or a gentle kiss / I will love you with every single thing I have"

This ended up taking WAY longer than I expected. And once again, I'm not sure everyone hasn't already been tagged so please go ahead and do it if you haven't yet! I'd love to see more music!

[buck-yyyy]

omg you changed ur url i thought someone else named bucky had fallen onto my dash

3 and 10 for the byler asks if you wanna

teeheehee my plan WORKED i have fooled you ALL (there was no plan i just missed my old username lmao)

3. favorite headcanon?

i don’t know how popular this one is, because i’ve only ever seen it in my own works, but i LOVE the idea of will being a huge astronomy nerd. give me byler laying on their backs on the roof of someone’s house while will points out every single constellation, i need it NOW

10. THE byler song (will)

boys don’t cry. hands down. it’s been my favorite since june (but also if i could tell her from DEH is so byler coded omg)

[scarlettriot]

Stood Up

Pairing: Sero/F!Reader

Summary: When you find your dating making out with someone else at a Halloween party, Hanta swoops in and reclaims your evening, rekindling an old flame.

Contains: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Demisexual Reader, Astronomy/Greek Lore Nerd Sero, Old flame

Warnings: 18+ Below the cut, Minors DNI! Swearing, Demi Problems, Praise/Smidge of Degradation, Name-calling (slut & whore), Pet names (Love, good girl, pretty girl), Car Sex, F Masturbation, Oral M Receiving (Road Head) I think that's everything

A/N: This took me much longer than I expected. It's also my first time writing Sero. Given the season, I decided to add a touch of Halloween and costumes to this one.

If you'd like to read other's in the Stood Up series, here are the links:

Stood Up - Bakugo - WC 3,502

Stood Up - Kirishima - WC 3,612

Stood Up - Kaminari - WC 2,461

Word Count Starting Below: 3,494

Denki Kaminari's annual Halloween bash was in full swing by the time Hanta had arrived. He'd come straight from patrol, wrapping himself up in his own tape making a half assed mummy costume for himself. Not like anyone would notice with the flashing colored lights, loud music, and abundance of liquor.

However, Hanta didn't even make it up to the double glass front doors of Denki's home. Not before doing a double take at the very familiar pirate that ran by him.

"Y/N?" You stopped allowing him the chance to catch up to you, "Holy shit, it is you, when the hell did you get back?"

Three years you'd been gone, working in America. Time differences and busy schedules made it so the two of you barely kept in touch. It was a shame, Hanta thought, considering how close the two of you used to be.

"I- uh- just a few weeks now. I heard you were helping out with the disaster relief after that storm."

It had to be his eyes playing tricks on him, the funny colors of the dancing lights were what made your cheeks look wet, right? Those couldn't have been tears.

"I was, yeah, but I got back yesterday. I didn't know-"

"Get the hell outta here!" His head snapped back towards the front of the house, just in time to see Eijiro, dressed in an impressive werewolf costume, literally throw someone out of the party. The guy drunkenly stumbled off, Eijiro walking over towards where Hanta was standing with you. "Y/N, you good?"

You nodded while Hanta tried to piece together what'd happened. "Sorry, it took me a second to find the bastard. Do ya wanna come back in? I'll make sure he leaves."

"No, Eijiro, thanks though. I'm just gonna head home."

The wolfman frowned but understood. "We'll have a smaller party for ya! Just the gang as a welcome home! You know Denki will look for any excuse to throw a party." He turned his gaze on Hanta. "A mummy, really?"

"You've been a damn werewolf for the last two years! You don't get to give me crap."

Eijiro poked the fuzzy pointed red ears carefully set into his spiky hair. "Mina and I worked real hard on this costume... seemed like a waste to only wear it once."

"We both know you haven't just worn those once, big man."

That got a chuckle out of you while all Eijiro could do was shrug and try to hide a shit-eating grin.

He asked you again if you'd like to stay and once more you said you were going to just head home. It was when you specifically said you were going to be walking home that Hanta spoke up offering to drive you back to your home since it was Halloween and people were creeps.

You were a damn pro hero but he still didn't feel right about just letting you walk home alone.

When you agreed he told Eijiro he'd be back soon and walked over with you to his car.

>>><<<

A part of you missed the old station wagon Hanta used to drive, not that this BMW he now drove wasn't absolutely amazing, you just sort of missed the comfort of the old car.

He waited until he'd reached the end of Denki's long, winding driveway to finally speak. "So, you wanna tell me what happened back there, or am I just supposed to pretend like Kiri didn't kick someone out on your behalf?"

"You could probably just ask Kiri and he'd tell you."

"I could, but, I'd like to hear it from you."

You knew you could tell him, there was nothing you couldn't tell Hanta. There was once a time when the man knew every single detail about your life. Sure, time and distance had put a strain on that relationship but you were back now. There was no reason why you couldn't at least start rebuilding what you and Hanta once had.

"Y/N, if you don't wanna say anything-"

"I was just casually seeing this guy. You know me and dating, how we don't always work out." You said abruptly and he quit talking, "And so, we weren't like official but we said we'd go to this party together. Well, I got here and went looking for him and found him making out with one of Hawks' sidekicks. I got a little upset when he noticed me and, well, he just said he found someone better."

Hanta actually stopped the car, pulled off to the side of the road, threw it in park, and looked right at you because he knew what found someone better meant exactly. You'd used those words in high school when that guy from Shiketsu that you'd been seeing got pissed off that you wouldn't put out and ended it with you. You went to his dorm crying because he 'found someone better', is what you told him. It took him a few hours to get the truth out of you.

You'd always been the kind of person to love with your entire heart but sexually, you'd confessed that you felt different from all the other kids your age back then. Not having the same urges and desires that everyone else seemed stricken with.

"Hanta, it's fine, really. Kiri heard the whole thing and, well, you saw what happened."

"Doesn't make it right! So, you went on a couple dates with a guy, that doesn't mean he just gets to expect you to put out for him! Even if you weren't demi, no one gets to just assume they deserve sex."

His lips were pressed in a narrow line, nostrils flared once in annoyance. He was usually so calm and laid back that you thought it rather cute when he got overprotective. "It's alright, Hants, really."

He still gave you a look that said he disagreed but then shook his head, dropping the subject for now at least.

"Still like those late-night drives?"

"I love them."

"Good."

Hanta waited for a car to pass and whipped the car in the other direction.

It wasn't long before he had the windows rolled down, conversations filling in the blanks of lost time, in between belting out choruses of your favorite songs. Minutes slipped by the further he drove, you lost track of both time and kilometers, letting him tell you all about the ridiculous antics the group had been up to.

Eventually, you caught the scent of salty air and even in the dark, you had a pretty good idea where Hanta was going. He followed a winding road, making two left turns and then a right leaving you on a stretch of road that paralleled the ocean.

You let your head fall against the seat, eyes falling shut and inhaling that wonderful smell you missed so much. Hanta had just one hand lazily on the wheel, his elbow resting out the open window, a relaxed smile was illuminated in soft orange lights off his dash.

You let your head roll onto his shoulder, not as easily done without the bench seat in his station wagon but it worked nonetheless. "Thanks."

His free hand came to rest on your knee, "Anytime."

He turned the wheel, pulling over and parking in front of a small beach access that you guys had found at 3 in the morning five years prior. Hanta kicked off his shoes, leaving them in the car to avoid them being sand-filled and you did the same with the knee-high boots purely because you longed to feel the sand between your toes.

The wooden planks were worn, parts buried beneath the sand until eventually, none remained. Breaking waves flooded your ears and you made a run for them! Before you could reach the lapping water though, tape had wound around your middle and yanked you backward.

"Not happening!" Hanta said firmly. "Last time I let you talk me into late-night swimming we didn't have a change of clothes either and we both got so sick! I think I might have actually died without Bakugo's soup!"

You chuckled, remembering being nineteen and curled up with Hanta on the sofa in the living room of the apartment you all shared for nearly a week. The sniffles didn't cease for almost three weeks.

"Okay, okay, no swimming." You flopped back down into the sand, his tape still attached meaning the cellophane hero was pulled down with you. "Tell me about the stars then, Hants. Who's out tonight?"

Astronomy was a hobby of Hanta's you learned about after moving into the dorms your first year. It wasn't uncommon to find him out on the roof most nights, laying on his back and looking up into the clear night sky littered with twinkling stars, usually with a joint pressed between his lips. It became almost a habit for him to grab you on his way up, pulling you along because you were more than happy listening to him tell you about each constellation and the stories behind them.

It was around this time of year, in your final year of high school; somewhere between him recalling the greek mythos of Aries and Sagittarius that you noticed your heart beating a little faster. You realized something had shifted between the two of you, and, holy shit, was this what it felt like to have a crush! When the hell did that happen?

You'd entrusted everything to Hanta back then, and now, laying in the sand shoulder to shoulder while he talked about Draco, that familiar feeling stirred again. You remembered what it was supposed to be like when you weren't forcing it for some random guy. How simple it was supposed to be.

You inclined on an elbow and he stopped mid-sentence. "Eh, everything alright?" You nodded but he looked anything but convinced, mirroring your position and asking you again.

It was easy for you to lean forward, to brush your lips against his for the first time in three years. And, when you pulled away, he looked about as shocked as he had the night you'd done it when you were eighteen.

"You- you still like me?"

When you left for America, you'd both agreed to put a pause on your sort of relationship. Free to date and screw whomever you pleased because three years was a long time and it just seemed like a fair decision to make. The realization that he might now have someone else special in his life dawned on you...

"Yeah but I totally understand if things are different now and I shoulda asked- oof!"

He kissed you so hard you toppled back into the sand, quick pecks, one right after another, ending them with a long one that nearly left you breathless.

"I didn't know how to bring it up. I didn't want to make you feel awkward about things or make you think I expected something. I thought that maybe since we didn't talk for a while your feelings might have changed."

"I can say with confidence they haven't."

"Thank fuck." He groaned and captured your lips in another searing kiss.

It was easy to lift his shirt off, the shreds of tape that remained were now covered with gritty sand that clung to your fingers as you traced the chest and torso you knew so well. Gliding over defined muscles, lingering on old scars and mapping out new ones he'd collected in your time apart.

His own hands were busy flicking open the brass fastenings of your corset, huffing about it being so much more difficult to get to your chest and something about it being very unfair.

By the time he'd undone the last one, bright headlights shown across the beach. "Shit."

Giggling ensued from the walkway and you both sighed, at least it wasn't the police or a hero patrol. Hanta gathered his shirt and ran back to his car with his hand in yours.

"I thought our days of being caught were over."

"At least it wasn't Mr. Aizawa this time."

A chill ran down your spine remembering the night and the lecture you'd received when your teacher had caught Hanta sneaking out of your room early one morning.

"So, uh, do you still plan on going to Denki's party?" You asked innocently enough but Hanta knew you far too well.

"I think I'm gonna miss it this year." His hand found a home on your upper thigh. "Apparently, you and I have a lot of catching up to do. Lost time to make up for and all that."

"Too bad you don't have that old station wagon anymore. If you did, we wouldn't have to wait to get back."

Dark eyes glanced over at you not so subtly parting your legs.

"I dunno. It's not too often I travel in the backseat of my own car but I've been told it's pretty roomy. Lots of legroom."

Your hand ran over your legs, dipping down to lightly brush your more sensitive parts, thankful you opted for the thin pair of black leggings rather than the dark skinny jeans. Your fingers danced again and this time you let a soft moan pass your lips. "Eyes on the road, Hants."

"That's a little hard to do when I've got you spread out in the passenger's seat." He grabbed your free hand and pressed it against the bulge in his pants. "You've got me distracted, filthy little woman."

You appreciated him testing the waters, a subtle way of checking if you liked those nicknames he used only in private with you, giving you a chance to protest if your likes had changed. They were one's that only felt right coming from him and you were eager to hear more.

Forgoing your own high, you leaned over the center console as best you could, undoing his belt first, followed quickly by his zipper letting his strained cock be free.

His grip tightened on your leg when you kissed the tip of him. "Just like old times, huh?"

A chuckle turned quickly into a moan, taking him in your mouth, pushing yourself further on his cock, fighting your gag reflex to get him down your throat. Hanta reclined his seat further, giving you more room to work with.

Your legs clenched tighter with every groan you pulled from him, wiggling your hips in the seat, letting a hand fall back between your own legs. There was an attempt of a moan around his cock when his fingers coiled in your hair. "Such a good slut. Keep fuckin' goin'." He let you continue at your own speed, needing to focus as best he could on the road rather than what you were doing but, damn, you were making that increasingly difficult.

He wasn't stopping you though. He rarely did. You'd sucked him off on countless drives before and only stopped when- "That's it." He lifted you off him by your hair at the same time he pulled off the road. There was a convenient turn-off, hidden by overgrown brush you noticed before he shut off the headlights.

Hanta took you by the chin, smearing drool. "Backseat, pretty girl." He reached into the glove box and pulled out a foil wrapper, "What do you say we test out that legroom?"

He wait to watch your smile grow wide before crawling into the back because he had to be the first to go if this had any chance of working. Once situated, pants under his thighs, he patted his lap for you to climb over.

You slid easily onto his lap, hands traveling up and over his shoulders, kissing hard while you rocked your hips against impossibly hard length.

There was so much comfort in the familiarity of him. It wasn't awkward to fall back into rhythm with Hanta, to remember that he loved the feeling of your nails dragging down his chest. And he was just as eager to get your shirt off, reach your breasts he'd missed so much, and get his tongue on your nipples.

Your head tipped backward, loving the pace he set, hips bouncing creating the perfect tug on your nipples between his teeth.

"Love, if I promise to buy you a new pair, can I rip these damn leggings? They're just so thin and-"

"Please." Your breathy moan had him smirking and with a single grunt the leggings were ruined, cool air from the vents had only a moment to touch your bare ass before Hanta's hands reclaimed it.

There was no way he hadn't felt your arousal before ripping your clothes off, you soaked through your panties and leggings, you knew that, but that didn't stop him from commenting on how soaked you were now on his fingers. "Want me inside you, whore? I think you do."

You nodded with a whimper and he slipped a finger in. "Hants, noo- I- I want your cock, please."

"You're gonna take my fingers like a good little slut first." You clenched at the words falling from his mouth. "So fuckin' tight you can barely take a finger. How'm I supposed to fit in here if you can even take a single finger? Need you to loosen up, alright." He pushed another finger in, scissoring the two inside you.

"This gonna make you cum? You need this bad, don't you? Tell me. Tell me how bad you need to cum."

"I want it. Please, please, I need it. I'm so close," You babbled and ripped the foil open with his teeth, rolling it with one hand on his cock. In an instant, his fingers had been replaced with this dick. Sticky fingers on your ass helping you ease down on him with a hiss.

"Fuck," Hanta let out a throaty chuckle, "You still fuckin' feel the absolute best." He dropped a kiss between your breasts, letting you adjust to his girth. "Perfect. Good girl. Such a fuckin' good little slut."

He wasn't about to last long. Not once you started bouncing up and down on him, your tits right in front of his face.

"Couldn't even wait for me to get you home, had to fucking tease me in the damn car." He held onto the fat of your ass, pulling you along him and slamming you down hard.

"Kinda pathetic how desperate you are. Fuck. Kinda hot too."

When the top of your head bumped the roof of the car, he scooted lower, trying to give you as much room to ride him however you pleased.

"What do you need? You wanna cum, don't you, pretty girl, what do you need?"

"Faster, faster please."

Hanta shifted even lower, making you grab onto the two headrests while he thrust his hips up into you at a rapid speed. His thumb on your clit was the additional stimulation you needed to fall over the edge. Nails clawing at the black leather as he continued to moan below you now chasing his own release.

You stayed poised above him, using every last bit of strength to stay upright until his mouth was rambling and his cock pulsed inside of you. Fingers bruising your skin before holding your pelvis snuggly against his.

He was bent in a way that looked entirely uncomfortable and yet he still smiled so widely. Reaching up to brush hair out of your eyes, "You okay?"

"Perfects, Hants. A little sore but I'm sure you are too." He moved off his lap, letting him slip out of you with a groan, "Is your neck gonna be okay?"

"I'll be fine. Having you back, love, is more than worth a little bit of a neck cramp."

As he tied a knot in the condom, depositing it into a plastic bag he had tucked away under his seat, Hanta raised a brow, "Love, really, are you alright? Please, tell me if I hurt you at all."

"No! I'm good, why?"

"You're sitting silly."

You were sitting a little odd, perched on your knees rather than sitting on your ass because the leather was chilly and you told Hanta as much making him laugh. "Wait, I think I can help." He leaned back to the front of the car, flicking a button making it glow. Once he tucked himself back in his pants he hopped out of the car and you could see him rummaging in his trunk through the rear window.

"I keep forgetting to take this out from our camping trip a couple months ago. Guess it turned out to be a good thing." He laid the blanket down over the passenger's seat, declaring that should help a bit.

You wrapped the now toasty warm blanket around your bottom half while Hanta drove back towards the city, your head on his shoulder, his hand on your thigh.

"So, shopping tomorrow? I believe I owe you a pair of leggings..."

"It's a date."

[batlingsstuff]

|| DREAM SMP HEADCANONS ||

✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

hello! this is my first time doing headcanons, and i just want to clarify some things:

sadly, i won't be doing requests because i'm busy af with school and i dont want to dissapoint anyone, but you can drop some suggestions and i would think about it! it would be really nice :)

also i won't be writing romantic headcanons for minors or those who are uncomfortable with it, but i can do platonic headcanons for them! ^^

i won't be doing nsfw headcanons either, because i'm uncomfy with sexualizing real people and just writing nsfw in general :)

also, please tell me if someone is uncomfortable with fanfics and/or headcanons and i will erase that part as fast as possible, thanks for passing by! - batling

✦ means platonic

✦ characters : ranboo, tubbo, tommy, philza, techno and jschlatt

♥ means romantic

♥ characters: quackity, wilbur, nihachu, dream, george, sapnap, eret, karl, fundy and bbh

keywords:

(y/n) : your name

(n/n) : nickname

(p/p) : pizza place

✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

“As he read, I fell in love the way you fall asleep: slowly, and then all at once.” – John Green

┌────── ⋆⋅✦⋅⋆ ──────┐

SLEEPOVERS

---

GENDER NEUTRAL

└────── ⋆⋅✦⋅⋆ ──────┘

♥ Quackity

oh boy

i just have two words for this one: pure chaos

he will punch you with a pillow if you try to sleep

and you will be MAD at this

grabbing a pillow and hitting him RIGHT IN THE FACE with all your strenght

he'll probably fake cry about it, saying that you hurt him

after a while of pillow fighting, you guys got tired and plopped into the bed, snuggling into eachother and just enyoing the comfortable silence before drifting to sleep

♥ Wilbur

you two will probably blast hamilton and scream the lyrics till the neighbours wake up and you get angry knocks at your door

and you will laugh at that, lowering the speaker's volume and telling him to lower his voice aswell to avoid your neighbours calling the police

then you'll eat snacks and talk about anything that pops into your mind, laughing at the most silly jokes

he will sing sweet songs to you, making you fall asleep to his calming voice

summary: fluff

♥ Nihachu

you and her will bake pastries at a very late hour

she REALLY enjoys baking with you bc she thinks it's a great way to spend time with you

all this girl wants is to spend her time by your side, doing particularlly anything like streaming, baking, playing games and going outside for a walk and/or shopping

once you finished baking, she will kiss your cheek multiple times. that's her way to tell you that you did a great job :)

you'll spend the rest of the night cuddling, eating your pastries and watching some random movie, commenting about how bad it is and laughing

♥ Dream

bruh

this bitch will speedrun the sleepover

is it possible to speedrun a sleepover? maybe

you'll spend the rest of the night probably playing uncharted 3: drake's deception in his old ps3

after a while, you guys got bored from uncharted and went to his pc to play amnesia: the dark descent

there are 2 options:

you will be scared as fuck and will avoid looking at the screen when you think something bad will happen or when some body will come out from a drawer

or you will be totally chill with it, laughing hard when clay pisses his pants for real when he encounters the gatherer

you named the gatherer 'bob' :)

♥ George

he'll take you to the rooftop

and pushes you so you fall to your death

i mean

he gets blankets and pillows so you can stargaze together

he'll teach you the constelations while pointing them, excited about every single one of them

"look (y/n), that's the ursa major!"

he'll have hot chocolate prepared too, so you don't get cold while stargazing

you try your best to not fall asleep on the rooftop

but eventually fail

when he notices you're asleep, he stops talking about the constellations and carries you to your bedroom, giving you a goodnight kiss and leaving you in your bed so you can have a peaceful rest

♥ Sapnap

hey mamas

i don't know what sapnap will do in a sleepover so i will just improvise B)

you will watch anime together

not any kind of anime, like that romance-comedy bullcrap

no fuck that

you will watch the classy angsty anime like madoka magica

WATCH IT IF YOU HAVEN'T ALREADY

you will fucking cry because of literally anything that happens to the characters

"(y/n) why are you crying it's just a show"

'IT'S NOT ANY SHOW SAPNAP IT'S FUCKING MADOKA MAGICA OF COURSE I'M GOING TO CRY'

the last chapter made you fucking cry harder

AUTHOR HERE I WAS CRYING SO MUCH WHEN IT ENDED

yeah you will basically watch anime with him, cry about it and he will comfort you and bring you a glass of water so you don't have a terrible headache after it

I KNOW THIS HEADCANON SUCKED I'M SO SORRY

♥ Eret

KINGG <3

you two will plan a picnic in your yard

yes your yard

he'll bring a ton of snacks and you'll buy a few drinks

you two spend the rest of the picnic talking about your future and enjoying the snacks

then, he'll make you stand up and will teach you how to dance tango

and of course you will mess everything up

and you even stomped on his feet accidentally, making him wimper

but he brushed off the pain and laughed at your concerned face

after calming down his laughter, he gave you a passionate kiss and hugged you tightly

i love eret ok

♥ Karl Jacobs

this man.

this man is the definition of sweet

you'll spend the night cuddling and making cute pet names for eachother

he will definetely give you a great back massage if you're stressed

then he'll start writing love letters full of things he adore of you

and you'll do the same for him

after that, you will share your letters and just snuggle and smile at the sweet things you guys wrote for eachother

he will deffo shower you with kisses when he finishes reading your letter, telling you that you're the nicest person on earth

and that he loves you so so much

♥ Fundy

i'm a huge fundy simp ok

he will bring his piano to your house and you guys will compose a melody together

he will let you sit on his lap while you play the piano/keyboard with him

fundy will basically teach you how to play basic piano songs

you asked him if you guys could play megalovania together

he said no :(

but still you got to play nice songs together without messing up

and when you got the hang of it, he snuggled his face in your neck and kissed you there genly

and when you got tired, he started playing very calming songs and you fell asleep in his lap, snuggling into his chest

he gently carried to your room and will sleep beside you putting a fair distance so you can have a comfortable sleep!

♥ BadBoyHalo

bbh supremacy

he will get rat ready so you can snuggle with her too :)

you guys will mainly play with rat and talk about life in general

he will call you tons of cute pet names

ofc he will call you muffin it's bbh who we're talking about

he will talk about how bad he wants to spend the rest of his life with you

after a while, he will take you to his kitchen and start making muffins together

he will guide you on how to bake 'em though

you guys had a great time making muffins and cuddling with him and rat :)

══════ ∘◦❀◦∘ ══════

✦ Ranboo

tall mf gives the best piggy back rides

when he gets to your house there is a 100% chance he will bump his head on the door frame

and there is a 100% chance you will make fun of him because of that

"(y/n) please stop laughing my head hurts :("

you'll give him some ice to put on his head while you two play minecraft on your ps4

you will bring snacks too and ask him if his head is better

"yeah, thank you (n/n)"

he will pull you in a hug so you can be comfy together while you play good ol' minecraft

because ranboo surely doesn't play anything besides fucking minecraft

stfu that video of him playing spooky's jump scare mansion doesn't exist

✦ Tubbo

SWEET BE BOYY <3

he will gift you a bee plushie

expect a lot of (FRIENDLY) hugs from him

like fundy, you guys will play piano together

you guys are most likely to prank call some random numbers AND your friends

and you accidentally called some random pizza place

"hello! this is (p/p), may i take your order?"

you were nervous and didn't know what to say

UNTIL YOU CAME UP WITH A GREAT IDEA

"hello? are you there?"

'hi yes, i would like to order 7 extra large pepperoni pizzas to (tommy's adress).'

"oh- okay! uhm- they will arrive in a few hours. are you okay with that?"

'yes ma'am, thank you.'

when you ended the call, you couldn't help but burst out laughing, knowing that tommy will be so mad at you guys-

✦ Tommy

like quackity, PURE. CHAOS.

you guys will obviously stream your sleepover

doing a q&a stream :)

tubbo and wilbur will probably crash your stream and start spamming things like 'MEETUP??' and 'DIDN'T GET AN INVITE'

you guys laughed and added them to the call

"WHY THE FUCK DIDN'T YOU GUYS INVITE ME?" wilbur shouted

'i'm sorry willlll'

you kept playing minecraft with wilbur, tubbo and quackity too since he crashed your stream like an hour later

after the stream, you got up and plopped on the mattress that was on the floor

"tired?"

'yeah'

"okay, good night big (initial)"

✦ Philza

POG

YEAHHH SLEEPOVER WITH THE MINECRAFT GOD

AND KRISTIN'S THERE TOO :)))

and oh god you ADORE kristin

i'm pretty sure she's a total sweetheart

it would be like having a sleepover with your parents

only that it's less boring

you guys will watch a movie together, you will be in one side of the couch eating snacks while phil and kristin are in the other cuddling

you'll eventually bug them about it

after the movie, you fell asleep early and philza noticed, talking to kristin about it too

and wrapped a blanket around you so that you get a good rest :)

✦ Technoblade

mr. blood god teaches you the arts of the CRAFT.

yeah i mean it's techno what else does he play besides minecraft

he will play bedwars w/ u, teaching you how to pvp

"bro you kinda suck tbh"

'stfu techno'

he will comment about how bad you are, but tries to help you get better anyways

and when you do a very poggers gamer move, he praises you

and when he praises you you're all :)))

after awhile, he gets tired from watching you play minecraft and suggest watching anime

fucking weeb

i mean

uh

other thing you guys do together in a sleepover is playing and commenting about pokemon

if you don't like pokemon get tf out of here /J

i was joking please don't leave i respect your tastes

✦ Jschlatt

ooooh boy

get ready for a session of wii training

that's all you guys will do

play wii sports and some other shit like wii music

he will laugh his ass of if you fall while playing wii fit

but he will eventually help you bc outside his funny and shouty persona, he's a really chill guy and a really nice person!

seriously like have you ever seen a theweeklyslap video?

well expect hearing amazing pep talks from him

bc this man is a legend and knows his way to words and is very good at comforting people :)

sometimes you'll rant to him about anything that's happening in your life, and he will listen to you and give you really helpful advice

and you appreciate him so much for that

✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

TYSM FOR READING GUYS, i appreciate it if you made it this far :)

i hope you guys really enjoyed these headcanons, it's my first time doing them and aa i'm a bit nervous about posting this but i'll be fine ig

also i'm sorry if there's a grammatical error, english is not my native language and i'm still learning it :) have a nice day/night, drink water and don't fuck up your sleeping schedule!!

[cleverestclogs]

Canis Major. | Sirius Black

Sirius Black x fem!reader (0.8k words)

Warnings; none :)

Summary; Sirius and y/n enjoy a cozy night under the stars (very fluffy!)

<3

The wind was oddly warm tonight, blowing on the skin of the girl who was sitting under the loan willow tree besides the black lake. Y/n settled further into the bark, ignoring the few stick that were pressing against her back. It was a beautiful night, with the stars gleaming brighter than they did in summer. She was peering up, trying desperately to find name and trace constellations to quiz Sirius on when she returned to his dorm

A cozy feeling settled in her stomach at the thought of him, his pale arms and soft skin was enough to make her daydreams for hours on end. Her fingers grazed the pages of the book in her lap, smoothing over to the next page

She was utterly and completely whipped.

The harsh crunching of leaves filled her ears and her cheeks began to warm. She knew who it was, so she focused on her book once more, a smile tugging on her lips.

“Merlin, be any louder Bigfoot?” She murmured, flipping another page

A scoff escaped his lips, his steps becoming louder to fuel her annoyance “says the woman the same size as a pixie”

“If you were any more annoying I might just consider pushing you into the lake” y/n lifted her head, pointing towards the body of water and looking up at Sirius. He was still in his uniform, the sleeves rolled up and the first two buttons undone. She scanned his body for a few moments more before looking into his grey eyes

“I dare you” he grinned, bending down on his knees to her level and reaching to tuck a stray braid behind her ears.

“I’ve been looking for you, I had to escape my dorm. James came in offering to cook for me” he shivered, his lips turning into a wide smile

“He could be worse-”

“-Remus had salmonella for a week after he baked him those raspberry slices”

She opened her mouth to retaliate, but the only thing that escaped her lips was a chesty laugh. His eyes drifted to the tree, then back to her. He gestured a forward motion with his hands but she looked at him with confusion

“Move forward” he rested on his knees, the soft wind blowing through his hair and rippling his button down

“Why?” She teased

“Can you quit being so skeptical? I’m not going to kill you”

“Debatable” she rocked her head, moving forward and watching as Sirius slid down the tree gracefully, planting himself behind her. They adjusted against each other, finding the perfect position where they both had a perfect view of the lake and sky in front of them

“Is this okay?” He placed his head on top of hers, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his hands on her legs “I was cold”

She settled further into him, closing her book and setting it to the side. He brought one knee up, which y/n rested her elbow on

“You have the temperature tolerance of a toddler” she retorted and Sirius chuckled, the vibrations hitting her back

“At least I don’t come crawling into your bed when the air conditioning is too high” he stooped down to her ear, whispering soft words. Her body reacted, goosebumps rising up her neck

“The girls sleep at sub-zero temperature!” She bumped his knee, giggling and looking up at the stars once again

Sirius hummed quietly, a song that she heard playing at a common room party the week before. Her fingers found his bare arm, tracing little circles and running up and down his hand

“Do you see that constellation?” he pointed towards the sky, intertwining his free hand with hers. He traced out a constellation in the shape of a uneven rectangle, with small tails that came out on each side to form small shapes. She knew what he was pointing out, she had focused her eyes on it countless times

She chuckled, low enough for only her to hear. She really did love it when he showed her constellations, he sounded so proud and accomplished

“It’s called Canis Major, but the brightest star is Sirius” he pressed a kiss to the top of her head “I like to name all the other little stars after my friends. James is next to Lily and Remus is across from Peter… but that one”

He pointed to the small star that was positioned closest to Sirius, glimmering and flickering at a steady pace “that one is you”

“I’ve never really enjoyed my family being named after every single star and constellation in the sky, I felt trapped everywhere. I couldn’t even find peace looking up at night — so I made sure that my little constellation was completely mine, with my best friends completing me”

She let out a soft breath, twisting her head and planting a kiss on his lips. He reciprocated, smiling against her lips and pulling away to pepper kisses against her cheeks

“I really love you, Sirius” she ran a finger through his hair

“I really love you too”

[sachifukyo]

Hi, can you do black pink as Greek goddesses??

YESSSS. Thanks for the request✨

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BlackPink as Greek Goddesses

(🖤) . ( M a s t e r l i s t )

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Jisoo: Athena

Goddess of wisdom, knowledge and strategy

> She owns an enormous library, filled with books that contains all the knowledge you could thing of

> She is not possessive over her books, any human can read as much as they want, as long as the might need

> She kept an eye on you, surprised on how often you visit her library, attracted to the way you study them from early morning to very late night. She offered you to stay the nights in her palace if you want, or take the books with you.

>She began to share her favorite books with you, and you showed her some movies

>Expect a lot of reading dates, with coffee, tea, candles and cookies

> She teaches you a lot of interesting things all the time, she finds cute your surprised reaction to new things

> conversations with her under the moonlight, about philosophy, astrology, ethics, anything, are another fucking level

Rosé: Aphrodite

Goddess of love and beauty

> The girl that gives roses to everyone that crosses her way. Contagious smile, pretty laugh that brights everyone's mood

>The best one giving love advice, and a great listener

>Her touch can calm broken hearts, her voice can give hope to hopeless hearts, and her intentions to help are too pure to be real

>She encourages you to love yourself as much as she loves you

> She works really hard to make you fall for her more everyday, and she does. She sings for you, send you a lot of love letters, writes you songs, takes you to nice places to make picnics. She really knows how to treat you

> And I hope you do the same for her. Please give her roses, and hold her hand first, try to write her some poems even if your not good at it. She will keep it all like precious treasure

> Expect a lot of gifts, cute names and cuddles. She will always support you and help you in any way you might need. She just wants to see your perfect smile and be the reason of it 🥺

Lisa: Selene

Goddess of the moon, stars and night sky

> She... Is brighter than the moon, she loves to sleep on it and place the stars on her hair

> Creates songs with constellations, waiting for some human to discover the way they sound... But no one has

> So she showed you how to read the stars as music tabs, so you can play them on a piano, while she guides you with her singing voice

>Why you? Well, she noticed that you like to connect the stars with your finger... And also thinks you are hot (YOU ARE)

>A lot of dancing under the moonlight is happening

>Now she comes to knock on your window every night, to fly you to the moon,and show you how spring looks like on Jupiter and mars (wink wink)

> Places starts on your hair, and hold your hands so you can both jump on the clouds.

> After that, she takes you back home, back to your bed, giving a kiss on your forehead and winking at you before leaving your room closing the window

Jennie: Hebe

Goddess of youth, joy and beauty

> She really adores the human world. Is the best place to live the youth

>constantly scapes the Olympus to pretend she is a normal young girl from your city

> Whenever you take her out to a any place, she falls more for you. Take her to the cinema, to a concert, to parties, to restaurants, karaoke. She will enjoy it all and her presence makes everything more fun and enjoyable

>You never feel tired around her, makes you feel full of energy, full of life

>Yoga together <3

> She really wants to put a spell on you, so you never get older, she wants you by her side forever, and she is so scared of loosing you, she wants to stay young together forever

> But she loves you a lot, and respects your life cycle, the best she can do is to make you enjoy every single second you are alive, even if is not by her side

[anachronisticcrab]

Solangelo Headcanons

So I’ve got a lot of these cause I’m such a simp for Nico and Will (feel free to ask me about any other Headcanons on either character, cause I’ve got LOTS)

They’re both massive nerds, but neither of them really like the same kind of things

Like, Will is more of a Star Wars and Star Trek fan, he loves Harry Potter more than life itself, and reads medical textbooks and animal books for fun

But Nico is such a linguistics and mythology nerd, we all know he loves Pokémon and DND, and he’s really into classic literature and art

They both spend 90% of their dates geeking out over their interests, and even when they talk about something the other doesn’t understand, they’re super supportive and sweet cause they’re both cute geeks

As much as they aren’t interested in the same things for the most part, they do have a few interests in common (pirates, astronomy, Dreamworks and Disney animated movies, The Princess Bride, Lord of the Rings, music, marvel and DC)

They absolutely have movie marathon dates. It’s their favourite thing. Their favourite movie series’ are Pirates of the Caribbean, Night at the Museum, and The Lord of the Rings/ The Hobbit

Nico loves watching Star Wars with Will because Will mumbled the lines along with the characters and does little lightsaber noises along with it and he’s so cute

Will likes watching movie adaptions of classic lit with Nico because he points out everything that’s different from the books, why the movies are bad, and insists on pausing it to go on rants about everything they got wrong. Will fucking loves it

They both have tattoos. Will’s got the sun over his chest, and a small semi colon on his left wrist next to a treble clef. Nico’s got a semicolon on his right wrist next to a bass clef

Will loves Halloween, and Nico could take it or leave it (he never did anything for it because he grew up in Italy), but Nico does couples costumes because Will looks at him with puppy dog eyes and Nico’s helpless

They’ve gone as Jed and Octavian from Night at the Museum; Buzz Lightyear and Woody; those two crazy pirates from Pirates of the Caribbean (the one with the wooden eye who dressed up in drag, and the short one who got upset over parlay); 1930’s mobsters; Adam and Barbara Maitland from Beetlejuice; Han Solo and Luke Skywalker

They actually talk to Mr. D, and that’s why they’re his favourite— they play poker with him, they talk to him, they treat him like anyone else and he lives them for it

Will loves every single one of Nico’s siblings (Rachel, Hazel, Reyna, Meg, Jason, Connor, Travis, Percy, Tyson, Estelle, Chiara, Piper, etc). They share ridiculous Nico stories and plan pranks on him— they all adore Will

Will’s siblings and friends lowkey love Nico more than Will. He brings them McDonalds, teases Will and makes Will blush, attempts archery to try to bond with them (he really tries, but he’s just really awful), he tells Will’s little siblings bedtime stories. Nico’s just really awkward, and he really tries, and they all love him. Of course, Cecil, Lou Ellen, Austin, and Kayla bug Nico a lot because he’s so awkward, but the truth is they really, really, really like him

Will is horrible at music. Like, truly horrible at anything to do with music. But he has an encyclopedic knowledge of music from over the last 200 years, and randomly quotes lyrics and talks about musical theory all day long

In contrast, Nico is amazing at playing piano and guitar, plus he enjoys playing the drums. He’s really musically talented, but knows nothing about the theory behind it or about the artists. Whenever Nico tries to learn a new song, Will nerds out over the musician/background of the song/cool lyrical devices that make it an amazing song. Nico frickin loves it

Nico loves cooking, while Will can’t cook for his life. Like someone get this boy some help, he almost burnt down his mom’s house while microwaving popcorn. They agreed that Nico would cook and Nico would clean

Nico can’t drive for shit. I mean, cars don’t exist in the city where he grew up (there’s not enough room for vehicles on the few roads in Venice), and even if there were, he’s Italian and gay (sorry about the stereotypes there, but I really can’t see Nico being a good driver). Will drives them everywhere or gets Jules-Albert to drive them, and hides Nico’s drivers license to ‘protect the public from his menace of a boyfriend’

You know how I mentioned the no vehicles in Venice thing? Yeah, no bikes are in the city either. Will taught Nico to ride a bike after the Giants War (before they started dating). Hazel took videos and pictures cause Nico was freaking out over it and yelling at Will not to let him die

Will finds animals on the street and adopts them. Nico begrudgingly helps Will to take care of the animals until they find good homes for them (mostly from people in New Rome)

Unfortunately, Will gets attached to them, and now they have 5 cats, 2 dogs, 3 snakes, 4 lizards, and a blue Jay

They’re both really grumpy in the morning. If you wake either of them up, they will probably bite your hand off

They like going on runs a lot? They’ll go on jogs once a day if possible, and they’ll chat or share earbuds while doing so

They go on dates on canoe lake a lot. They like to have races on the canoes, and to just float out away from everyone else (they totally don’t joke about being pirates or pretend to be pirates while on the lake, that’d be ridiculous and childish)

When Will’s been in the infirmary for too long, Nico walks in and throws a Kit Kat at his head, and then drags him out of the infirmary (sometimes by his ear, sometimes by his hand, depending on how long Will’s been in there for or how annoyed Nico is that day)

Nico’s teaching Will how to speak Venetian (he sucks at it, but Nico appreciates the effort)

Nico takes a long time to get used to PDA, and even after they’ve been dating for years, Nico’s really only comfortable with holding hands and hugs (plus cheek kisses or quick pecks) in public. Will’s fine with it, and he didn’t stop smiling for three days after Nico first pecked him on the cheek in public

International dates! Paris, Venice, Milan, Madrid, Banff, Athens, Cairo, Tokyo, Sydney, Ho Chi Minh, everywhere! They love travelling!

They have a lot of conversations where they tell the other how amazing they are (since they’re both pretty self-deprecating, and they think the world of the other, it ends up with them just going ‘shut up you’re beautiful, why do you put up with me’ for hours on end)

Dates on roofs! Nico and Will point out constellations at night and cloud watch during the day. They have picnics on the roof of the Big House, and the Hades and Apollo cabins all the time

They buy each other Funko Pop figures for birthdays, Christmas, and basically anytime they want to get each other a gift

[wincore]

act iii, incomplete | ten

pairing: ten x reader

summary: it’s the same vivid dream every time — you, a feline constellation that keeps smiling at you and a boy who won’t ever forgive you. autumn, spring and everything in between come to save part of that but the truth is this: no amount of time spent at your small town theatre with your once best friend is going to speak the words for you.

alternatively, 

best friends aren’t meant to be lovers and ten, despite the millions of roles he’s played, keeps trying for the one role he won’t ever get.

genre: childhood best friends to lovers, slight theatre au, reincarnation themes, fluff, angst

warnings: alcohol consumption, mentions of injuries, mentions of death

words: 23.9k

a/n: hello i’m so glad i actually completed this !!!!! i’ve never written something like this before !!! also longest fic let’s gooo ahaha special thank you to miss cat for reading this and making it at least infinity times better i am in indebted to u <3. playlist here.

part of the almost collab by @hyucksie !! (thank you for hosting this, it was lovely to be a part!!)

ACT I: HOMESICK

act i scene i. 

For the first time in years, you hold your breath at the local theatre, the walls more and more debilitated each year. It’s the only place, perhaps, that is so vibrant in its dull shades. The key is memories. Memories keep you alive in a way death and life and sickness cannot interfere. 

A single drum beat resounds through the theatre. A second one follows before a tune from a flute sets the mood. A voice speaks out, that of a woman, and it strikes you as somewhat sad. In that moment, you believe Ten would have pointed out to you that she is meant to do that, she is meant to play the part of someone sad. The curtains stare at you as undulating as a calm sea of red and you hold your breath. 

This is a modern play and you’ve only kept up with them for the sake of watching Ten play a part in them. As for other plays, high school Shakespeare was the most formidable text you’ve ever read and you’d rather not fight for your life again.

“Has the world ever seen a woman’s love unrivalled?”

A projector displays a flower, peonies, on the curtains.

“She once fell sick, dreaming of a lover; and once sick, she grew worse. Love is not love at its fullest if one is not willing to die for it.”

You don’t think that’s quite right. The curtains are drawn right then, their velvet sheen accentuated under the bright theatre lights and two characters appear on stage. 

Your first thought is that he’s grown far too much. The second is that he hasn’t changed much. Ten stands in the character of a play you haven’t finished reading yet, in clothes that accentuate his dancer’s figure and with the look of someone that isn’t him. You had tried to read  the play earlier but you might have gotten a little too excited to complete it. 

You bounce your legs in anticipation, the music and his voice fading out—it’s not like you can focus much with the high school kids giggling and making out in the seats right behind yours. You could always make a scene but it’s not like you to steal the spotlight away from your dearest friend. Besides, you need to reiterate through the list of things you have to help him catch up on since he’s been gone. Ten wouldn’t want to miss out on some spicy gossip. You chuckle to yourself, pressing your palms to your cheeks to cool yourself. 

Ten likes overwhelming responses. You like to be overwhelming. You’re the perfect pair. 

The play ends in a way you can’t tell if it was a tragedy or a comedy. You could have if you paid more attention but this isn’t literature class. You can do whatever you want now and you’re a little preoccupied with your own thoughts. Ten. Your best friend is back from Broadway after a year of barely talking. You can’t wait to hear the stories.

You get up as soon as the lights are on but when no one else does, you sit back down. The curtains part now and the cast comes on for their final bow. You shift around to see if Ten is looking at you, the older people beside you grunting in annoyance and muttering something about the youth. He’s not but Sicheng is and when you send a wink his way, he shakes his head.

You pout at the lack of attention but it’s time to make your way backstage now. The crowd is exiting and you need to get there before Ten leaves. 

Once outside, you make a beeline to the back of the theatre building and mess up Sicheng’s hair as he leaves for home. 

“He’s inside,” he informs curtly and makes as much distance possible between the two of you.

“Oh, don’t be shy, Sicheng,” you coo to annoy him. “You performed so well. Not as good as Ten though.”

Sicheng rolls his eyes. “Were you even paying attention?”

You cross your arms and push him onto his track. He shrugs and you watch his figure disappear behind the corner before taking a deep breath. With anticipation, comes a little unrestrained droplet of anxiety. You shouldn’t be worried, you tell yourself. This is Ten, after all.

The crows sing a song to themselves under the purple evening sun and you feel annoyed at the sound. It’s a song for ghosts. You hate the sound of it. 

You rub your temples, trying to hush away the headache. You can’t wait to see Ten.

You swing the door open in an attempt to sneak up on him. However, you take a few moments to see him barefaced, the stage makeup washed off and a red undertone running through his nose and cheeks. That dark mop of hair sticks out every which way, and no attempt has been made to rectify it. It was once your job, actually. He rubs at his sleepy eyes, a yawn escaping his lips as he stuff his belongings into a worn-out satchel bag. You gave it to him when you skipped prom night. You smile. 

“Ten!” you yell at the top of your lungs. You’ve missed him so much—an old greeting should warm him up. This town started feeling more like home once you heard the news Ten’s back.

He looks at you so cold that you stop dead in your tracks. You freeze up, the words suddenly collapsing into themselves like wilting flowers. You don’t recognize Ten all of a sudden. He wears a deep frown and empty eyes, something you cannot understand no matter what angle you look from. Everything’s changed now, hasn’t it? You truly understand what that means when you meet his eyes.

“Ten,” you repeat at a more respectable volume. “Hey. I… I missed—”

“Hey,” he responds a little too quickly. Eyes less sharp than usual, he averts his gaze. “I- I need to get home early.”

Ten grabs his bag and leaves the room, his shoulder brushing against yours. You stand there for a few extra moments, breaths shallow and quiet. When you regain the sound of your heartbeat, you leave the practice room, throat dry and a frustrated sigh on your lips. Consequences, every time it’s the consequences biting back.

The crows’ song goes unheard.

act i scene ii.

“So… you want me to get Ten to talk to you?” 

Sicheng looks at you in disbelief, the ice cream in his hand starting to melt. You’ve never met anyone who enjoys ice cream in mid-autumn as much as he does. Sore throats are foreign to him.

You nod, crossing your arms. “I don’t know why he’s avoiding me.”

Sicheng scoffs, choking on the ice cream and taking a few moments to regain his composure. 

“Thanks,” he says when you rub his back in pity. “But… you really don’t know why he’s avoiding you?”

You shake your head. It’s a lie. But the only thing you can think of is the summer he left, when he confessed his feelings and you rejected him after a few seconds of contemplation. You had good reason. You just can’t tell him that. You’re still young and there’s so much to look forward to.

"You obviously have feelings for him!"

"Yeah, anger! Why would he just ignore me like that? We've been friends for, uh…"

"Stop counting, you suck at math."

You punch his shoulder and his ice cream almost falls off. He looks at you with a glare so strong, you have to take a step back.

“Sorry,” you mumble. “I thought we were like any other pair of best friends.”

Sicheng snorts. “Yeah, best friends in love with each other. Didn't you suggest getting married once?”

“As a joke,” you interject, feeling heat on your cheeks. “Actually, do you know how useful a marriage of convenience is? It's got convenience in the name. Think of all the tax benefits.”

Sicheng rolls his eyes. “The way you looked at each other wasn’t a joke—you know what? I’m not going to be the supporting act to your whole romance charade. You figure this out.”

You pout. “So you’re saying you won’t help?”

He shrugs. “Maybe. You won’t know if I did.”

You furrow your eyebrows, groaning in exasperation. This was supposed to be a happy reunion and yet, you’re here moping to a theatre kid, hoping he helps you. You expected Ten to not take it well but right now, you wish you weren’t so blunt. You could have said it nicer.

You’re joking, right? Haha, nice one. Best friends don't fall in love.

Oh, this is all your fault. You knew him better than anyone else. You should’ve known the consequences too—you could scream right now. In your defense, you thought college made him lose a few brain cells. You still have to make it right. 

“Fine. Whatever you might do, better do it soon.”

Sicheng shrugs, turning back to his ice cream and browsing lazily through one of the magazines. He’s supposed to be watching the store—he gets paid for it but he couldn’t care less about this place. Sicheng is something of a theatrical actor too, traveling around and performing with his theatre group. He never cared for Broadway as much as Ten did.

However, you’re all here now. This autumn is going to be spent with your best friends no matter the cost. You smile as you think of the time you and Ten surprised Sicheng with a whole bag of ice cream and he cried although most of it ended up melting. Sicheng raises an eyebrow at your expression but doesn't question.

“There’s a reunion party by the woods,” he announces. “Next week. Saturday. You have to make up before that. You know they’re going to be brutal.”

You shudder. Your classmates certainly won’t let go of the idea of your relationship with Ten. Teasing aside, they’re going to be making either one of you uncomfortable. All your excitement drains itself. Your shoulders slump and you think that perhaps, asking for forgiveness would be a better out. You recover quickly though. This has to work out, Ten has to be your best friend again—what choice do you have? You missed him and you’re going to let him know.

//

The first attempt begins right in the evening. Sicheng texts Ten after his shift, asking him to get some snacks. Lucky for you, you work at the local snack store, also called the convenience store. There’s nowhere better to get snacks. There’s also nowhere else to get snacks.

You stand behind the counter, fiddling with the drawstrings of your hoodie while your eyes trail to the hands of the clock on the wall. Sicheng texted him half an hour ago. Ten might not be the most punctual but you know he listens to Sicheng, even if it’s reluctantly.

Your impatience gets the better of you and you leave the counter to peer out the glass door. Unfortunately, someone pushes open the door right then and you clutch your nose, eyes watering at the painful impact. 

Ten looks petrified for a moment before turning around and leaving. You furrow your eyebrows, tears brimming from the pain in your nose and mixing into the exasperation from getting so bluntly ignored. Come on, Ten. You curse on your way back to the lonely counter. There goes the only thing you were looking forward to this evening. Sicheng walks in a while later, a sour look on his face.

“He actually gave me a mouthful,” he mutters angrily. “Can you believe that? Me. Who’s listened to all his lovesick ramblings about y—theatre.” 

You slump onto the counter further, the bright orange background of the store more headache-inducing than optimistic. 

“God, this is so much more difficult than I expected.”

“What happened between the two of you anyway? I thought you promised to call him every day.”

“I tried, okay? He wouldn’t pick up.”

Sicheng raises an eyebrow. “Woah. Haven’t heard about that one.”

He places the single pack of Lays onto the counter. You get up to pull the chocolate ice cream from the cooler.

“Don’t bother. It’s so depressing getting shut out like this.”

Sicheng mutters something under his breath you don’t quite catch. It’s his complaining voice though, so you don’t question him. 

“He’s going to be at the Bridge tomorrow,” Sicheng notifies. “Something about getting fresh early morning air. Now, there’s no way you can run into him and call it coincidence. So don’t do that.”

You cross your arms. “So what do you suggest I do?”

“I mean, if you’re accompanying Mr. Yang to the dahlia fields for flower shop business… that’s a different story.”

Your eyes brighten and you sit up. “You’re a genius!”

“I’ve been telling you guys since—”

You hug him and he chokes, almost dropping the Lays pack. The door opens and you hurriedly wave at Yangyang, who’s here for the next shift before running out the door in a hurricane of bad decisions and good intentions.

“I hate being the middleman,” Sicheng mutters to Yangyang who offers him a pitiful look. The evening returns to its pink skies and you race your feelings to your destination.

//

“Mr. Yang,” you whine. “You don’t need a single dahlia? I’m offering to help.”

The older man scratches his spotless white beard and looks at you in confusion. “I gathered a whole cartload just three days ago. There’s no way I need more. You know this place—no one buys flowers anymore.”

“I’ll buy them! A whole cartload.”

“And where will you get the money, child?”

“Uh.”

Mr. Yang shakes his head at your immaturity. “If you’re so eager, get me some chrysanthemums from Mrs. Leong’s sh—”

“No. It has to be from the other side of the Bridge,” you interject. 

Mr. Yang is further perplexed but you’re glad he doesn’t ask further. Having to explain your love and friendship troubles to a senior citizen has never been an ideal situation. You make a face at the thought.

“Alright,” he says and takes a few moments to ponder. “You want an errand to run, right? Could you get me some sunflower seeds from Goodwin Park?”

“That far?”

He sighs. “Do you want to go or not?”

You nod reluctantly, checking your phone to see the time. It’s early as fuck and the only person you’d wake up this early for doesn’t even know you’re doing all this.

“It’s to feed the birds, isn’t it?” You raise an eyebrow. 

Mr Yang nods.

“You know, you don’t have to do all that to get Mrs. Leong to notice you.” You offer him a cheeky grin.

“I’m assuming it’s also a person you’re doing all of this for,” he hums in reply.  

You drop your grin and take the errand money, heat rising in your cheeks. Exiting quickly, you check the time again. Ten better not have left early.

Shortcuts are better when there’s someone with you, you decide. You have gained around five long scratches at five different places on your body trying to best the hill beside Maple Street in order to get to the Bridge faster. If Ten were here, he'd laugh at you for being so graceless. 

The Bridge is empty when you arrive and you sigh deeply. You’re not sure if you’re early or he’s late or you’re astronomically late. The grass is still a golden green in colour, for autumn never truly comes in when you’re expecting it. The little stream below the Bridge is almost dried up but the wooden structure stays. You remember Sicheng broke his leg once, trying to catch Ten’s family cat pawing at fish in the stream when it used to be fuller.

You greet Mr. Santello at his garden and buy the sunflower seeds. Your errand is complete but the rising agitation in your chest makes you kick a rock on the way back to the Bridge. This side of the town is bleak except for the garden and the only fun you’ve had here is when a beehive dropped on Yukhei’s head (he poked at it himself with no provocation from your side whatsoever). The scenery is much prettier with someone to appreciate it. You, on the other hand, cannot wait to leave this town. You walk back with certain memories playing in your head, the smell of nostalgia rising with the sun. You’ve always hated early mornings; but you did have fun in them when you had to wake up for school trips. You hold your breath, stopping right before the beginning of the Bridge.

Ten leans against the wooden rails of the Bridge, Starmill Bridge, with eyes gently closed and white earphones plugged in. You smile to yourself. When the sunlight draws across his cheeks, he seems brighter than golden skies and softer than late afternoon clouds. You see the boy from your childhood, messy unbrushed hair and his favourite grey sweater. He’s so full of colour. You wouldn’t mind staring at him for as long as you can.

You take a step and your hoodie catches onto a stray nail, making you stumble onto the wooden floor of the Bridge. You look at your scattered boxes of sunflower seeds with horror but not before finding Ten plucking out his earphone to look at you. He’s so pretty even in a daze.

“Hi?” you offer. “I was on an errand, promise. Not stalking you and trying to get you to talk to me or anything. Hah.”

Ten shakes his head at you and quietly stares for a few more moments.

“I don’t want to talk to you right now,” he answers finally. “Stop trying.”

You look at him with a flickering guilt though you’re not sure why. He sighs and walks toward you, frowning. He takes out the cloth of your hoodie stuck in the nail with tentative care. Gathering the boxes of sunflower seeds scattered on the floor, he glances at you once before getting up.

You grab his hand before he can walk away again. 

“Ten,” you say, your voice coming off more pitiful than you would like. 

He turns back at you with lips pursed and a sorrowful look in his eyes. 

“Sorry,” he whispers. “I need to work some things out.”

Ten leaves you hanging for a third time in your life and you pull yourself together enough to stand up. You can’t imagine—you don’t want to imagine how much longer this’ll go on. Ten used to be an amenable boy; it shouldn’t be taking this long.

Somewhere the wind comes tumbling in, whispering the words that everything has changed and everything is still changing.

//

The third and last attempt is outside his house. Ten’s mother is bound to notice you at some point, right? Considering you’re camping out like a homeless man from the nearby gas station, that is. You hope she’s out for grocery shopping and you can just pretend you were on your way home and ‘accidentally’ bumped into her. Being the kind soul she is, she’s going to invite you to dinner since it’s late already. And where else can you spend your time while she cooks but in Ten’s room? It’s perfect and there’s no way he can avoid this.

“(name)!” Ten’s sister yells in glee. 

“Tern!” You smile at her.

“Mom’s sending me for grocery shopping. Do you wanna come help?”

You want to go inside the house but patience is quite possibly a virtue. You haven’t tried it out yet. 

“Sure.” You grin. “I’ve got time to kill.”

So, you are aware that Ten’s sister tends to shoot off at the mouth with the right person but you somehow cannot get her to talk about Ten. Apart from his life in New York, that is, which you had hoped to hear from him. 

“So… how come you’re not in our house already? No offense, it’s just you and Ten… you know.” She looks at you with an inquisitive quirk of her eyebrow. 

Ten must be a really good actor. Not like you ever doubted him but for his sister to be so blissfully unaware, he must have put on quite the show. Either that, or he really has forgotten you. You try not to feed fire to that thought.

“Uh, you know, been busy with the snack shack. We’re redecorating. Mr. Kim is going to boil me alive if I slack off.”

She giggles at your expression. “I heard it from Yangyang. He said the redecorations are ugly though.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Ten let you talk to Yangyang? A boy?”

She crosses her arms with a disbelieving laugh. “He can’t tell me how to live. Besides, he doesn’t care.”

You laugh. “Right. You have no idea how overprotective he can actually be. Older brother instincts or whatever.”

She suppresses a laugh. “And you must be facing the boyfriend instincts.”

You stammer out a response but it doesn’t make any sense. It’s alright to get laughed at, you suppose, if Tern is in fits beside you.

The rest of the conversation is about things less important. It would be rude to not engage though so you talk with enthusiasm all the way back. Part of you sees Ten in his sister. How terrible of you to see someone else in a person right beside you.

“(name)!” 

Ten’s mother looks pleasantly surprised. 

“Good evening, ma’am!” You curtsy in an exaggerated manner, and she laughs, patting your arm. 

“How come it took you so long to visit? You hardly ever came over these few years, and I’m a little upset about that by the way, but I thought for sure, you’d be in the house the day Ten came back.”

You scratch the back of your head sheepishly. “You know. Work and stuff. Mr Kim is redecorating the store.”

She exhales in annoyance. “Is that man exploiting you children again?”

“I’m—uh… I’m an adult—”

“Hush,” she instructs, voice strict and you zip your mouth immediately. Never question a mother’s statement.

“Ten’s in his room, by the way. Should I call him?” she asks, after a minute of complaining about Mr. Kim, which you would have loved to join but there are other matters at hand. She has all the gossip in town and yet, she’s somehow blissfully unaware of the silence between her son and his best friend. Are you not as important? It makes you pout but you quickly neutralize your expression.

“Ten!” she shouts when you don’t respond, a little lost in your own thoughts.

“Uh—oh no, you don’t have to do that!” you say quickly. “I’ll just go to his room.”

You hurry up the stairs, just in time for Ten to open his bedroom door and jump back in fright.

“Oh my fucking god,” he mutters, like the soul has been kicked straight out of his body. In any other situation, you would’ve loved to give him a scare.

You walk into the bedroom and lock the door behind you. 

“Ten. We need to talk.”

“I don’t wanna talk,” he says, furrowing his eyebrows. You notice the change in his features—his hair has grown out, his face is more chiseled and he has an angry quirk to his brows. “I told you I need some space. You never know how to listen, fuck.”

His voice is a low whisper, in the short space between you. You don’t move from your spot, with your back against the wall and feet nervous. You shift from foot to foot and look him in the eye before looking away. You’ve never felt this way around him. You’ve never actually pissed him off this bad. You don’t know what to do.

“Just leave. God. I can’t believe you think you can just walk in!”

You frown at his words. “Ten. I just wanted to talk to you again. We’re friends—”

“How does it matter if we are? Everything’s changed. This whole place has changed. I’ve changed.” 

“But… that doesn’t mean we have to pretend we’re strangers—”

“Leave. Please.”

His voice is so low and odd that you don’t recognize it anymore. You sigh. You can’t convince him when he’s so defensive. You open the door to his bedroom to find Ten’s mom and sister in the hallway trying very hard to pretend they weren’t eavesdropping. You offer them a sad smile and thank his mother for the dinner before taking your leave. You feel too ridiculous to cry.

How do people put in all that effort in romantic comedies? You don't even know where to start. Maybe you should follow the King's advice from Alice in Wonderland. 

Begin at the beginning and go on until you come to the end; then stop.

No. No, you can't be thinking of ending scenes right now. There's a much bigger problem at hand. Saturday. You better brace yourself for the unpredictability of former prom queens and class presidents, and the predictability of this small town that never changes. 

act i scene iii.

High school reunion parties here aren’t exactly mawkish affairs. There’s alcohol, people who are meant to be adults but haven’t quite grown into it yet, the looming woods, and more alcohol. There's no room for sentimentalism when your former classmates, seniors and juniors—those who could be here, at least—are back together and it feels like nothing has changed at all. However, college-age boys always pose problems. 

“Look, if Johnny can do it, so can I,” Yukhei tells you. 

Johnny smacks his shoulder encouragingly, and a few of your friends giggle at the two lanky men, looking like they’ve discovered something priceless beside the campfire light.

“This beer tastes like crap,” you mutter before returning to a regular volume. “But go ahead and try chugging two bottles in under a minute if you want.”

Your backhanded statement backfires almost immediately because he does exactly as you said. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you try not to peek at Ten, sitting beside Johnny and looking rather sleepy. It’s the bedhead, you think to yourself. It’s cute.

“Alright, who’s next?” Yukhei asks, voice booming enthusiastically. 

Yeri sighs beside you, tired from the late night and not so much from the alcohol. Speaking of which, the alcohol table is somehow still stocked and Sicheng stands beside it, looking sour from being forced into guard duty. 

“Tell him to pipe down,” Yeri mutters, pressing her forehead against your shoulder and you look at her apologetically. 

“(name) hasn’t answered anything yet!” Sooyoung pipes up and you shoot her a look she ignores. “Neither has Ten, by the way.”

A bunch of “ooh”s pass through the crowd of roughly twenty people, and you would bury your face in your hands were it not for that stubborn pride of yours. 

Truth or dare is quite possibly the worst game in the history of mankind. Ten looks somewhat flustered under the attention but he just sighs. 

“Get it over with.” He looks at Yukhei expectantly.

“Kiss (name)!”

Your heart drops and you glare at Yukhei. You should have expected it. There is no one more unimaginative than drunk boys. His cheeks are flushed when he grins at you, encouraging you with a thumbs up gesture. 

“He doesn’t have to do that.” You cross your arms. “Consent is important even in fun and games.”

The sentence is so didactic of you but you hope the seriousness in your voice makes him back off.

“But you guys are, like, in love with each other,” Yangyang blurts before covering mouth as if he said something scandalous.

A bunch of chuckles follow, though Johnny shows some concern towards Ten. You remember why you hate high school reunions now. Apart from the fact that almost everyone gets to tell their stories of big cities and big dreams they get to live in, everyone turns into a child again when at a reunion. Perhaps it’s the burst of memories or the vivid glow of old connections returning but you can’t stand childishness. Even if you’re the one to act like a child sometimes.

“I’m gonna go drink,” you say. “That’s the punishment, right? I’m not playing anymore.”

Yukhei groans. “Come on, (name). You wouldn’t be such a bore.”

“I would,” you snap and get up from your seat, Yeri muttering in annoyance before leaning onto Sooyoung’s shoulder.

Ten is glowing in the cheeks, you find when you look at him. He meets your eyes once and looks away, playing with his fingers. 

You pour yourself some beer into a cup and lift it up to show to Yukhei before striding off to a place farther than the warmth of people and the campfire. The giant log is a nice enough seat by the edge of the woods. It is cold and mossy though, and you hug yourself, sticking your hands into the pockets of your cardigan.

The sound of footsteps over dried leaves catch your attention and you look up. Ten takes a seat beside you in silence. You move the cup of beer so that it doesn’t spill from any sudden movement. It’s quiet for even longer, your pulse the only rhythm to follow.

"Ten." You smile, looking away from him and into the ceaseless stretch of woods. He hums in response, as though a habit yet to get rid of. It makes you bite down your lip to prevent the smile from turning into something sadder.

You miss him. You miss the years you spent with him. You're drawn into him, into something old, familiar and safe. 

No one can save you when you’re homesick. 

However, you do not give up easily. What is broken can be mended with enough love and care.

Ten sighs, taking the cup from you right before it touches your lips. "Don't drink that. You hate the taste and it makes you go crazy."

You pout, but can't really find something snarky enough to say. Not when he looks like that—with dry, still-red lips and tired, apologetic eyes.

“Your forehead is so oily,” you mutter.

Ten looks at you, furrowing his eyebrows. He proceeds to hesitantly wipe at his forehead with the sleeve of his sweatshirt before shaking himself out of it. Instead he just glares at you.

“It’s not oilier than your nose,” he shoots, annoyed. 

“At least my nose isn’t titan-sized.”

“My nose is perfect. Do you- do you know how many people fall in love with my perfect nose every day?”

You laugh, covering your face. His features soften and he returns his gaze to the comfort of the endless forest. It does have an end, at the fences by the railway tracks but in believing that something can be infinite, you find comfort. 

"New York treated you well. Too well. But then again, you were always a narcissist."

You smile smugly at him and he gives you an unamused look.

"I'm… I'm glad we're talking," you offer after a few moments of unacknowledged silence.

He tenses ever so slightly, running a hand through his already messy hair and looks at you. He looks away again as if in an internal debate.

“You rejected me, (name),” he says, exasperated. “How do I recover from that? Don’t answer. It was so embarrassing.”

You close your mouth. If only you could tell him the truth. You had to reject him or your sentimental boy would never leave for acting opportunities. He doesn’t have to know that. You’re fine with loving him quietly. You’re fine with loving him quietly.

But the truth is, it’s too scary to think about. You’ve been refusing to look at your feelings for a long time now. It’s only a cliche; it doesn't happen in real life. You’re too good of friends to be in love. Isn’t that right? It certainly couldn't have been you to fall in love with Ten. There were a million other people to do that in your stead. You feel shy all of a sudden.

“That was pretty embarrassing,” you mumble, pressing down your smile and he rolls his eyes.

After a few moments in silence, a sigh escapes his lips. “I’ve had enough time for closure though. I can’t believe I actually said that. Oh, the over-sentimentalism. Yikes.”

He makes a disgusted face.

You giggle. “I can’t believe it either. You do look cute blushing, by the way. You find any lover in the big, scary city? Any rebound?” 

Ten rolls his eyes. “Too busy. And are you going to tease me forever about this thing?”

You laugh. “That’s the Ten I know. You’re always working. Sometimes you should have fun.” 

“I have plenty of fun. You’re the one that used to cry at birthday parties.”

“I was six years old and it was one time, holy shit.”

The two of you break into laughter. The cold makes you draw nearer to him.

“Hey, wanna go to the mall this weekend?” you suggest.

“Wait, it’s still there? Wasn’t it supposed to get knocked down?”

“Yeah but the townsfolk didn’t want that so they delayed it. There’s, like, barely any employees though. It’s like a ghost mansion at night.”

Ten makes a face. “The afternoons there were so bright, like, there was so much sunlight, remember? I remember you always drinking my banana milk at the food plaza.”

You laugh. “I miss skipping class to go there. Now there aren’t any classes to skip.”

“Oh my god, remember when Mr. Wilson actually caught us?”

You laugh louder. “We had to pretend we weren’t his students. Which was futile acting because he knows every student.” 

Ten sighs. 

“I missed you. God, I’m so fucking sorry—I was in over my head. I thought I ruined everything.”

“Hey.” You scoot closer, wrapping your arms around him. “I missed you too. Besides, it’s not you if you’re not being a bit of a drama queen.”

Ten elbows you in the side at the comment and you yelp, moving away and glaring at him in response. 

“Just because I’m in theatre doesn’t mean I’m a drama queen.” He mocks the tone of your voice and you giggle.

“So any special Broadway stories you have in mind? I wanna hear something funny.” You rest your head on his shoulder comfortably.

"Well, one time this actress' dress caught on fire—"

"That's not funny, that's horrifying."

Ten purses his lips. “Okay. Uh… I got told to fuck off by an eighty year old man in drag after I threw raw steak at his window?”

You snort, eyes widening and Ten throws up his hands in exasperation. "How is that remotely funny?"

"I'm pretty sure that's as funny as it gets with you."

"I can't believe you're pretending I didn't carry our sense of humour on my back for all of middle school and high school."

“I missed you," you say quietly, and he flusters, scratching the back of his head awkwardly.

"Really? You're not just saying that?"

You sigh, inching closer. "Yes. I did miss you, you know? I called."

"And I didn't pick up. I know. I'm sorry."

"I think you've apologized to me more times now than you have in our first twenty years of friendship."

Ten rolls his eyes. "And I mean it. It's not the 'sorry I ate your cookies' apology."

"I fucking knew you were the one eating stuff from my bag back in high school."

Ten presses his lips, making a zipping motion and you push him in exasperation. The two of you laugh, loud and clear, before Johnny's voice comes in, telling the two of you to "stop fooling around near the woods" and that it's "unhygienic".

Seasons change but people don't. You walk home with Ten for the first time in a year and suddenly, you’re in love with the idea that things can just lie in complete peace once they fall back into what was always meant to be. Perhaps it’s the writer’s utopia, but you think it’s much more meaningful this way. Ten's hoodie smells just like home.

prologue.

It was a sunlit morning when you first met Ten, but it was only a sunlit morning. There were no birds chirping or faceless adults on that sidewalk or even your friends because you don’t recall them. You recall a child with two very important teeth missing and your sudden urge to run to his side. You’d pulled his cheek with a huge grin on your face because, and you still stand by this, they were too cute and plump and red to resist.

You were three and a half years old when you met Ten and you parted when you were twenty. One year later, you're back to linking arms, joking about each other and talking about life as though it's a passing stream. 

You were six years old when you cried at Ten's birthday party because no one was talking to him. It gave you an evening's worth of attention and a huge smile on Ten's face. You still think kids are mean as hell but they care for things like they have never cared before. 

You were eleven years old when you started to lose a little bit of touch with yourself. You talked less, you looked at people more. Ten's face was still the most comforting out of all. He said he liked to listen no matter how annoying you sound. Somehow, by the time sixth grade was over, when you were almost twelve—you talked at least twice as much. 

You were fourteen years old when you dated a boy out of curiosity and left on an awkward note when he moved away. You weren't sad for some reason. The idea of life passing meaninglessly by was engraved into you, like the waves that carve the beach. Ten was distant the whole time, with a scowl and more sarcastic remarks than usual, only warming up when you showed up at his door with a homemade cake. It tasted horrible and had the texture of a mossy pebble but you laughed over it anyway. Suddenly, life wasn't meandering but a river full of vigor in spring, beside a garden of fresh crested irises. 

You were sixteen when you were pushed to audition in a play by your best friend. The play was about life and death and love, and it didn’t make sense to you the way it did to him. You had good fun backstage with the costumes and the makeup, and it was all that mattered to you. However, some part of you didn't like it, hated it even when he kissed the female lead of the play with eyes full of adoration. You looked on as Villager B and you hated every part of it.

When you were eighteen turning nineteen, you decided to save up for college. It would take time—years perhaps but you would get there. You would get an apartment with Ten in New York City or any city full of bustling, busy life and you would tend to your rooftop garden. Small town dreams, however, die and they die and they’re buried in unloved, unplanted soil. 

You finally understood what your tenth grade English teacher meant when she said everything is theatre. 

The night he left, you had a nightmare. It was a play and you were the protagonist. You couldn’t make it in time for the night of the performance, anxious and afraid as you arrived. You’d been replaced. You hated to see him on stage with someone else. You hated it. You hated it. You hated it so much. 

Of course, you knew it would be a showstopper the moment that fight broke out between you and your replacement. You were cruel in that dream—almost as if you were someone else. But you felt comfortable in that skin, like you were meant to play that part after all. As if you were the villain all along and not the sweetheart of the show. You felt comfortable and it scared you so much that you woke in cold sweat and cried for an hour straight.

It hurt how lonely you felt. It hurt without Ten and you hate that you let him go. Something took shape inside the cavity of your chest, the shape of a weed sprouting in the pulsing garden of life—you won’t make the same mistake again. You’re going to hold on with all your might, till your hands ache and till your heart has had enough. 

ACT II: YOUTH 

 act ii scene i.

“Have you ever actually shoplifted in your life?”

“Oh, shut up.”

Ten tries to suppress his smile and fails, moving so that his back covers you from view instead. A conversation about New York subways led to a conversation about anarchy which led to… this. You’ve been trying to swipe the butterfly pin from the display for the past half an hour. You weren’t actually going to steal it—you just need to prove you can.

The mall is always eerily empty. It shouldn’t be this big of a hassle. Ah yes, apart from the fact that the souvenir shop has stationed the most number of employees for some goddamn reason. You’re not even sure why it’s there; a souvenir shop for your town might as well be a forgotten relic.

“What? No,” he says quickly. “I’m not doing that. Causing trouble is your thing.”

You snort. “Right. Because everything we got into trouble for was done completely by me.”

“That’s actually true.”

You elbow him, giving him your most offended look.

“You can’t be serious about never causing trouble. You broke Mrs. Leung’s famous ruler, remember? And you always stole your mom’s Halloween cupcakes. Those were for all of the theatre crew, by the way.”

“That doesn’t sound right, darling.”

When you look up at him with eyebrows furrowed in annoyance, you find him smiling in somewhat tranquil thought. It has been rather long. 

“Yeah, I helped you way too much,” you respond, distastefully. 

The two of you straighten at the cashier’s call. Responding that everything’s fine, Ten turns to you with a pointed look.

“If you’re going to do it, better do it before she gets suspicious.”

The hint in his eyes reminds you that he is indeed the devil you know, and you quickly pocket the little butterfly hairpin. This is not ethical in any way and even so, you feel the childish exhilaration. This is to prove a point to your dear friend.

“See?” you whisper to him, exiting the shop. “I could totally pull this off.”

“Not if I start screaming ‘thief!’”

“Did you ever get to play a villain at Broadway? It’s closest to your personality,” you jab.

He sends you a sardonic smile before sticking his tongue out. You should always beware a childish man and his childish smile. You never know if he’ll take you seriously. Ten is the absolute worst and you love him all the more for it.

“Are you actually not gonna pay for it?” he asks, tilting his head. 

“And let all those proceeds go to our corrupt overlord mayor? Nuh-uh.”

Ten laughs. “We should go vandalize his campaign posters again.”

The mayor has had, you don’t know how many, little scandals accusing him of embezzlement and every time, he’s escaped easy as pie. All the things you can do with money and you decide to hoard more money; you will never understand people like him. Besides, you won’t have to worry about that any time soon.

“See? You’re the troublemaker. I can’t even vandalize good enough.”

“It’s not my fault you have zero artistic talent.”

You place your hands on your hips. “I’m sorry? I’m pretty sure I taught you how to paint.”

Ten rolls his eyes, a sneaky smile on his lips. “Yeah. You taught the whole class how to paint when you smacked Mr. Cheng with that paintbrush.”

You can’t help the laugh that comes to you, despite trying your best to hold a serious expression.

“You’re a disaster,” he adds, staring incredulously at your fit of laughter. 

You look at him and start laughing again.

“Oh my god, what’s so funny? I wasn’t even trying to be funny.”

“Okay, emo boy,” you say, finally straightening and messing his hair.

“I was going to get a haircut.”

“Don’t. You look pretty.”

Ten hums, raising an eyebrow. “But I wanna look hot.”

“That’s going to take a lot of effort.”

Ten grabs you in a chokehold, messing your hair with his hands in the most obnoxious way possible. Finally able to loosen his grip on you, you look at him with your most fearsome glare. He has to stop treating you so gracelessly.

It’s not unusual for him to behave this way; in fact, you welcome it when he’s warm and much lovelier than the usual. But something feels amiss, something dangerous like the passage of time. 

“Ten?”

“Yes?”

“I thought you’d be talking much more about New York instead of our boring old town.”

He hums, eyes scanning the vicinity of the mall’s first floor. There’s an ice cream shop opposite to the souvenir shop, unvisited due its lack of variety in flavours, and a spacious marble floor with most of the shops closed for renovation. The other two floors are closed off completely but you’re sure that with enough effort, you could sneak in. The glass ceiling at the centre allows for sunlight to wash in as gentle waves, settling on your heads like golden crowns. There are little potted plants lining the walls to make the mall space look less dilapidated but it gives off the same effect as that of something abandoned, left alone and waiting. 

“You want me to brag about it?” He addresses you with a slightly cocky grin.

You roll your eyes. “Never mind.”

The mayor wanted to turn this place into some sort of religious campus but you detest the idea of that man getting his way. He’s the very same man to reprimand little girls for their outfits and to say “dancing is not manly” so you do owe his nauseating sexism for your distaste for him. That, and he has absolutely no sense of aesthetics. You would die before you let him remove the gardens or the livelier buildings blessed with the only colours you can bear to look at. 

“Hey, (name)?”

“Yeah?”

“I think Angry Cashier is making her way towards you.”

You snap your head to the souvenir shop and the cashier is indeed eyeing you suspiciously. You reach to pat your pocket but you’re stopped by Ten.

“You are, by far, the stupidest thief I’ve ever known.”

You puff your cheeks in annoyance, crossing your arms instead. Just when you think the cashier is going to call you out, the two of you sprint over to the mall exit with a plausible enough speed.

“We didn’t have to run, you know?” Ten complains as soon as you’re out and a street or two away. 

“What’s the fun in committing a crime if we don’t get to run?”

“I don’t know, it could be a brain exercise—oh wait. You don’t have one.”

You stick your tongue out at him, walking faster to get away from him.

“Hey!”

He jogs up to you, eyebrows furrowed and ready to spit some sass at you, no doubt.

“I thought you’d be more athletic. Dancing and all.”

“Yeah, no.”

You fix the hair in front of his eyes as he leans over on his knees, a look in his eyes as though caught off guard. They’re a lovely shade of honey, his eyes. They look at you with emotions you can't quite fathom and with the innocence of a love borne between friends who have been forced to endure the mediocrity of this town together. It’s a good reason, you believe, to be friends. Friends are meant to help each other, to save each other and to be there at the lowest. You can check all the boxes. It might have been a while but you’re friends and friends that grow up together stay together. The idea is naive but you cannot possibly look into a future without Ten. There must be a reason behind everything that is given to you. Even right now, as the silence starts to nip at you, you believe you were meant to make full circle. Fate is a funny thing and you wouldn’t believe in it ever, even for a surprise twenty dollar bill vending machine miracle, but it’s comforting enough to let settle on the two of you. 

The lead actors go hand in hand.

“Are you going to keep staring at me? I know I’m tragically beautiful—”

“No, you’re beautifully tragic. Your face, that is.”

“I stopped listening after beautiful, so I believe you agreed with me there.”

You roll your eyes. 

“You and your unyielding confidence can go fuck itself. I’ve seen you cry over a cat movie.”

Ten sputters out a response. “But- but Garfield saved that dog despite every fiber of his being telling him not to. He could’ve lived a happy, peaceful life but he saved him. How is that not incredibly touching?”

“You’re weird. Garfield’s cute though.”

“Like me.”

You wrinkle your nose. “What are we, twelve?”

“I was having my rebellious punk phase then, so no. I would never have said that when I was twelve.”

You laugh. “God, you looked so funny back then.”

“I thought we agreed to not bring up stuff from our teenage years.”

You press your lips together in an attempt to stop the laugh but a tiny giggle comes out anyway. The sun is going to set in an hour. You better make use of your time.

“Ready to go vandalize some posters?” you ask, grinning.

“You know what? I have a better idea. We should go pick some flowers.”

You blink at him. “That’s not remotely punk or rebellious.”

“Shh. You like picking flowers. Remember how we used to joke you should be hired at weddings instead of the flower girls?”

You make a face. “Why on earth would I fling flowers in the air at weddings? That’s not even a respectable job.”

“It suits you.”

“We should be kinder to our arboreal friends.” You cross your arms. “I’d rather tend to a garden than pick flowers for stupid occasions.”

“Tree-hugger.”

You pull up your middle finger and he laughs, fixing his hair right back into the messy waves.

“Why do you hate weddings?” he asks all of a sudden.

“Oh, you know. Icky stuff.”

“No one’s having sex at the wedding.”

“That’s not what I meant by icky stuff. It’s that gross feeling in the air. What’s it called?”

“Love?”

“Please, there’s hardly any love at weddings. It’s all pretend.”

Ten rolls his eyes, chuckling. “You think all the brides and bridegrooms in the world are pretending at their own weddings?”

“If you say it like that…” You grumble. “I don’t believe you need to celebrate love, that’s all. It’s always there, you know?”

You look up to see Ten pressing his fist to his mouth to keep himself from laughing and scoff in disbelief.

“What’s so funny? Seriously, stop laughing—oh for fuck’s sake.”

Soon enough, Ten is crouching by the sidewalk in a fit of laughter which causes a hot flush rising over your neck. You weren’t trying to be cheesy. Now, your best friend is hellbent on making you feel embarrassed. 

“It wasn’t that cringe. Come on. Get up, asshole.”

“You were- you were just so—” He takes a moment to catch his breath, a few short laughs erupting from him nonetheless. “You looked so serious when you said that.”

Your face is hot enough for you to look away now. “Whatever,” you mumble.

“It was cute. You looked really cute,” he continues, somewhat sobered up. “And brave. You always say things with so much confidence that it’s brave. I’m glad you are the way you are.”

You look at him, slightly dazed before your cheeks puff up to prevent yourself from laughing.

“I regret saying that. You are the big, hideous regret of my life.”

“I thought I was cute?” Your snickers turn into laughter again.

“Fuck off.”

“Thanks, Ten. You’re really good to me.”

Ten shakes his head before walking away, leaving you to call after him in phrases of ‘wait up!’ and ‘when did you get so fast?’ as you try to catch up. You sometimes wonder if he likes being chased. You reach the busiest crossing in this town, with about four cars waiting at the stop sign. You’re not sure why anyone follows the traffic rules if there isn’t even any traffic.

Looking up, you gasp at the moon peeking over a still young sky. You're suddenly reminded of those afternoon naps you had in Ten’s room, the both of you fascinated by the idea of waking up and seeing the sky a whole different colour. The idea that time changes everything was still fresh in your minds then, the impact gentle if not loving. It’s quite late you found that time can steal just as much as it gives.

“Remember when we dyed your hair red?”

“I will, and I shit you not, physically assault you for saying anything about that.”

You laugh at the memory of his awkward hairdo. “No, the other time. When we were seventeen.”

“Oh yeah, I received like eight love letters for that.”

“No, you didn’t.”

He did look pretty, and just in time for Valentine’s day’s theme of red roses and nauseating pink hearts.

“I have proof.” Ten leans his elbow against the street lamp, missing it completely and stumbling backwards till he regains his balance. He gives you an impish smile, running a hand through his hair and breathing out. 

You roll your eyes, ignoring his words. “I think we never took pictures of that.”

“So… what are you suggesting?”

“One good picture,” you answer, pulling out your phone and taking a picture of him off guard. Looking at it, you pout. It’s so unfair that he gets to look nice even in a hazy evening picture. 

Ten rolls his eyes, snatching your phone. “Let me show you how to take good pictures. Not whatever crap you have going on.”

You cross your arms, huffing but agree nonetheless when he forces you to pose by the street light. He blabbers on something about composition and colours that goes straight over your head but you can’t deny that the picture came out ridiculously well. You might have to change all your socials with a new profile picture.

“See? You can thank me with a kiss,” he says, a cheeky smile across his face.

You press your lips to his cheek in a swift motion, a smack sound resounding from it. It was uncalled for, you think, because Ten freezes for a few seconds in an uncharacteristic manner. He shakes his head, a scream dying in his throat before turning to you with the most scandalized look.

“Oh my god, what did you do that for?” he says, rubbing at his cheek in a teasing manner.

You wrap your arms around him, furthering his protests although he ends up smiling wide. “You asked for it, honey.”

“Nicknames are my thing. Stop trying to copy me, it’s embarrassing.”

"Okay, now let's take a picture together," you suggest pulling him closer.

He clicks his tongue and takes the phone from you, and when his hand rests upon the small of your back, you try to freeze up. His face is near yours, not unlike the usual but you feel your heartbeat hike up. It's a strange feeling.

"Now, can we go home?" Ten asks, handing you your phone. "I can't believe your background is rilakkuma."

"I'll change it," you respond, voice strangely quiet. You're only half smiling but Ten's smile is full and bright, eyes honey-pure. "To us."

Ten hums in satisfaction and offers his hand like a gentleman from another century, something you tend to exaggerate and you take it with a laugh. The two of you walk with entangled arms and playful skips over the pavement, getting the same old looks from passersby as you did as children and teenagers. The traffic lights glow a gentle hue below the mature blue evening sky, fading easily. You realize as gently as waves lapping at the shore that you missed Ten so bad it still hurts in the hole he left. 

act ii scene ii.

Any weekend in a boring little town of flowers starts with the news of parties. It used to be Johnny sending invites but now it’s mostly just Yukhei calling people for impromptu college parties. Now, you are aware that college parties are horrendous in every shape and form; you are also aware that the two hour car ride to the city college isn’t safe. But it’s easy to ignore hackneyed advice to stay away from parties and alcohol and weed when you’re young and have a ridiculously large group of friends.

The drive isn’t the worst part. At least the drive to the party isn’t; the drive back is usually too hazed to be memorable. Sicheng’s driving this time and with a lot of grumbling but he gets enough pitiful pats to the back and cheek to stop it. Ten has his feet up on the dashboard, having called shotgun before you by one fucking second. You’re stuck with Sooyoung and Johnny in the backseat, sandwiched uncomfortably at that, but you lean forward enough to nag Ten the whole time.

“(name),” Sooyoung calls in a sing-song voice. “Your overly affectionate looks for Ten are showing and it’s not even eleven yet.”

You furrow your eyebrows, stammering out a response and regretting it immediately. “You’re- You’ve been teasing me about this forever.”

“No, she’s right,” Johnny joins in. “Come on, there isn’t even alcohol involved. Yet.”

You roll your eyes, shrinking into yourself as the two of them laugh on either side of you. Sicheng says something along the lines of ‘nauseating’ and ‘idiotic’ but he gets an elbow jab from Ten.

“I’m driving,” he hisses.

“Into every sidewalk we come across?” Ten shoots back.

Another bout of laughter rings through, and this time you can smile too. It’s not that you’re particularly bothered by the teasing; it’s just uncharted territories you have no desire to chart. You always thought you’d meet Prince Charming on a balcony in a summer evening, and this is optional, but it should happen with ‘Love Story’ by Taylor Swift playing in the background. It’s quite inane to assume it would be your best friend, whom you have spent countless summer evenings listening to old Taylor Swift songs with.

Before you were aware of college house parties, you thought things like these would be more of a less-people-more-booze sort of situation. Turns out, the alcohol to people ratio is nearly the same. Stumbling out of the entrance to the frat house, Yukhei greets the lot of you with a dazed smile before promptly throwing up into the bushes. Rolling your eyes, you pat his back while Sooyoung gets some water from her purse.

“How many drinks was it this time, Yukhei?” Ten teases. “Half? Three-quarters? No wait, that’s a stretch.”

“Very funny,” Yukhei mutters, somehow still upbeat despite his continuous retching. “I bet you’d be drunk after a shot of whatever the hell I had too.”

Adjusting his jacket, Ten narrows his eyes at Yukhei with an incredulous look. “Okay, you’re on. Let’s go.”

Sicheng raises his hands alarmed, but Ten has disappeared into the swarms of people before any sound can leave him.

“He was supposed to drive on the way back,” Sicheng complains. He opens his mouth in sudden realization and then turns to you. You look from him to Johnny and Sooyoung who share a look and walk briskly into the party with a thumbs-up gesture.

“Oh. Oh no,” you say.

“No, yes,” Sicheng responds.

You shake your head and laugh before sprinting inside, Sicheng’s yells of protest fading out.

Yukhei wasn’t kidding when he said his frat hosts the craziest parties. There’s far too many people here, at least far too many for Ten to have fun. You like the energy of the crowd though, all in their own zones and dancing to old party pop songs. The smell of alcohol hits you so strong at first that you have to take a breather in the little garden space they have. It’s more of an overgrown shrubbery instead of a garden but any green will do. Walking back in, you feel much more comfortable when you take a shot of vodka from a girl passed out on the couch. Laughing, you look around for familiar faces. Parties, however, are not the place to look for faces at all. You think you just spotted a fur neck warmer tied around a dude’s waist while he performs some Neanderthal variant of belly dancing.

You bump into a guy of fairly tall stature, a polite apology tumbling from his lips.

Furrowing your eyebrows, you chuckle in amusement. “You’re not a party kind of guy, are you?”

He stares at you with a placid expression, intrigued. “And how would you know?”

“First, you’re not drunk. Two, you look grossed out by those dudes on the bar table. Three, you’re making conversation with me instead of dancing.”

“So you’re saying I can’t make conversation and dance at the same time.”

“I’m sorry, Mister, but you look like you’d rather not dance at all.”

He laughs. “That’s your way of saying I have a stick up my ass, isn’t it?”

You shrug, giving him your friendliest smile. “I prefer talking to drinking too. What’s your name? I need to know the name of the only sober guy in here.”

“Doyoung,” he answers. “Something tells me you’re not going to give me the same pleasure of knowing your name.”

You smile, pressing your index finger to your lips. “Names at parties are better left unknown.”

Something about him is inherently attractive, and you find yourself drawing nearer. Perhaps you could have a more fun night this way. “It’s much more fun to guess. Now, I’m guessing your party-loving best friend dragged you in here so you could get laid.”

He sighs, smiling at you. “I’m actually part of the frat.”

You gasp, hand covering your mouth. “No way.”

“Someone sober has to oversee whatever the hell’s going on here.” He shrugs. “Now, and this isn’t a guess, but you’re not from our college.”

“Nope. I’m from that little flower town nearby.” 

“Ah, I heard there’s a lovely dahlia field there.”

You nod. “And me. Just as lovely.”

You bite your tongue. That was certainly not sexy enough flirting. Ten has been rubbing off on you with his lame comebacks. Doyoung, however, laughs really loud at that. He must have a worse sense of humour than you thought.

You turn sharply at the sound of your name. Ten seems to be waving at you from a table of beer pong, looking rather distressed. You wave back with a bothered look on your face, aggressively signaling for him to handle his shit alone. He pouts and signals more desperately for you to come. Sighing, you turn to Doyoung.

“Sorry,” you say. “My friend seems to be in a pinch. Either that or he’s attention starved again in a record time of eight minutes.”

Doyoung laughs. “I liked talking to you.”

“I liked talking to you too, plot twist.”

“Is that what you’re calling me now?” Doyoung smiles at you. "Ah, I tend to forget but someone always comes along and shows me how friendships are made."

With one last smile, you leave him and walk halfway through to Ten before realizing you forgot to ask for Doyoung’s number. It’s too late to turn back now for the crowd blocks your version and you begrudgingly make your way to Ten. So much for your fun night.

“What was so important that you had to pull me away from the only attractive dude in this party?” you say, crossing your arms.

“Who, Doyoung?” he asks. “I’m at least six times hotter. And anyway, help me win this.”

You roll your eyes. If Ten knows Doyoung, you can somehow finagle your way into getting his number.

“I suck at this game,” Ten mutters. “How the hell is it supposed to hit its mark when the cup is so far away?”

“You have shitty aim,” you say, taking the ping pong ball and throwing it right into the cup. Smirking at the dude who’s already wasted on the other side, you turn back to Ten.

“That’s how you play.”

“Maybe you just have magic hands. Kiss my balls for good luck—wait, fuck, I didn’t mean that.”

You throw your head back and laugh at the disgusted look on his face. Sometimes Ten forgets to think before he opens his mouth and it might be surprising, but he does think before most things he says. He’s always been careful in the subtlest ways.

“I hate this game,” Ten says after missing the cup again. 

“Let me teach you,” you say, moving behind him and taking his hand holding the ball. He stiffens before letting you guide the angle of projection as you throw. It lands right in despite the wobbly beginning and you grin at him.

“I’m so done with this party,” he whispers, hands on his hips and stretching much like a cat after a nap.

You giggle. “I didn’t drink enough to forget everything that’s ever hurt me though.”

“You’re hurt?” he asks, before clearing his throat. “If you wanna stay, I’ll stay too.”

“I’m not a child, you know?” you say, smiling incredulously. “I don’t need you babysitting me.”

“I don’t need you talking to any more Doyoungs. You know his body count?”

“That guy?” you ask, jaw dropping.

“It’s not that much actually,” Ten continues, smiling deviously. “More than what you expect from a guy in law though. You can shut your jaw.”

You huff. “How do you know though? Did you sleep with him?”

Ten wrinkles his nose. “I would rather eat your baking than sleep with him.”

“Hey.”

Right then, the two of you are approached by a now-sober Yukhei. He must have vomited enough alcohol out of his system by now. Johnny stays beside him with mild worry across his features. Sicheng on the other hand looks like his social battery has drained out already.

“It’s time for a drinking game!” Yukhei tells the two of you. “With the… uh… not so drunk people.”

“So just the five of us? Where’s Sooyoung?”

“Doting over Yeri,” Johnny answers.

“Ah.”

“Let’s play something if you guys actually want me to stay and not die of boredom,” Sicheng mumbles in annoyance.

"Truth or drink?" Yukhei suggests. 

"Hell no," you mutter. "I've had enough of that."

"What, no dare this time," he insists with a wide smile and arms outstretched.

You hum. "What are you curious about anyway? I know you wanna know something."

Yukhei scratches the back of his head before glancing at Ten. "Well… have you two ever… I don't know, experimented with each other? Like you're best friends, right, so no hard feelings."

Ten furrows his brows, a gaze that's somewhere between a glare and a confused look.

"Experiment…?" He asks, almost afraid to.

"In bed," says Yukhei bluntly.

Ten turns a few shades darker in the face, noticeable even under the multi-colored party lights. You, on the other hand, pray your stunned expression isn't mistaken for the embarrassment you feel. You're not sure why the feeling arises.

"(Name) wishes," Ten jokes, playing it off.

You roll your eyes. "You wish, asshole."

Yukhei pulls a face and raises a hand to interrupt. "Please don't start another lover's quarrel."

Sicheng snickers at the side, although you thought he wasn't listening. How on earth does this joke not get old to them?

"Anyway, my question is answered," Yukhei says. "Best friends who are in love with each other cannot sleep together but friends who are not… they can right?"

Sicheng hums in response, a teasing smile already on his lips. Ten groans and places his hand to the back of Sicheng's neck, almost threatening.

"What would you know about sex, Sicheng?" He bickers. "You're like virgin supreme."

You narrow your eyes. "And what would you know?"

Ten opens his mouth then closes it promptly. Sicheng and Yukhei on the other hand break into laughter, mentioning something about digging graves before taking their leave from the two of you. You really don't think either of them should be drinking—considering Yukhei's a lightweight and Sicheng is supposed to drive.

Ten smacks the back of your head and you yelp, smacking his shoulder as hard as you can.

"I was trying to help us there," he complains. "You're so unfun."

You mimic his statement and he tries to pinch you in the cheeks, which you expertly avoid.

"So tell me," you say. "Have you or have you not had sex?"

Ten sighs. "Okay, yeah fine. Guilty. Whatever."

"What happened to no flings in New York?"

"Didn't feel like telling you."

"Oh, I'm so hurt."

The two of you look at each other and burst into laughter, easy to forget the scores of people around you in the moment. 

“So you definitely had a few flings in New York,” you say, crossing your arms with a smug smile.

“Like three, yeah,” he answers, shaking his head. “What does it matter?”

Some part of you is satisfied with the way he doesn’t look too interested. It’s the ridiculous part of you. The clementine light over his features make them seem even gentler than usual and you smile, pressing the back of your hand to his cheek.

“Wha—”

“Mhm. Your cheeks are so warm.”

“Oh, so now I’m your personal heater.”

Ten places his hand over yours and your heartbeat hikes, and so easily too when he looks at you with his honey eyes.

“You know what, you’re right. This party’s getting boring.” You look around, as though pretending will help you any better. But then again if Shakespeare was onto something and all the world's a stage, then you never stop pretending, right?

Ten looks at you for a suggestion and the moment pauses, contemplation on both of your faces. 

“Let’s just get Sicheng to drive us back,” you say finally. It’s not like you can stray too far for fear of Sicheng leaving behind the two of you (he’s done that before).

Sicheng jumps at the idea of going back and all of you have to participate in dragging drunk Sooyoung into the car and away from a slightly worn out Yeri. Thanking you and fixing her disheveled hair, she walks back into her own corner to what seems to be aggressively coding on her laptop and flipping the finger to any dude who approaches her. When work calls, you simply cannot hang up.

You and Ten are forced to sit together in the backseat now for Johnny sits shotgun, massaging his forehead from whatever hellsent concoction he made for himself and his friends. The drive is mostly quiet and you lay your head on Ten’s shoulder while Sooyoung snores beside you. It’s quiet like the laps of water between ripples. It feels so secure to stay like this, like the world cannot interrupt. You’ve missed your best friend. You’ve missed him so much.

You and Ten part ways with the others at the crossing and you don’t skip over the path as you used to, with the jovial youth you contained then. No, your steps are slower and perhaps more mature but still in pace with Ten’s just as ever. A cat waits by the entrance to your door, the same calico that has won over your mother’s heart and now waits patiently for treats. In a way, you kept feeding it because you thought of Ten whenever you did.

It seems these days, the only way to get kisses from Ten is to be a cat. He pets the cat with tender strokes and presses his face to its forehead with no fear of cat-borne diseases. 

“Hey, Ten. What about me?” You pucker your lips at him and he presses his palm to your lips instead, snickering.

In these short moments, moments that barely last, do you feel the three years he’s been gone. It’s funny how people change and never realize they do. It’s funny how you’re in awe of every person he becomes.

“I missed your rooftop the most in New York,” Ten says. 

You chuckle. “You hid there when your mom was mad at you.”

“Do you know how many slippers your rooftop has saved me from? I think your rooftop is more of a best friend to me than you are.”

You place your hand over your heart in mock hurt and he shakes his head, grinning.

“Well, let’s prove I’m more worthy of the best friend title then,” you say, grabbing his hand, the skin so soft to you, and dragging him into your house in quiet tiptoes. You remember coming up here back when you pretended to be pirates, when you acted out Shakespeare and when you wanted to forget the world, the terrible, cruel world you found yourself hating often. This is your hiding spot, a safe place. Ten makes it more so. 

Lying down against the rooftop, you trace the sky from star to star. The good thing about small, dimly lit towns is the clear view of the stars. So far from troubles, it must be easy to play the audience. 

“That looks a little like Felis,” Ten says, taking your hand and tracing a particular arrangement of the stars.

“Is that a… cat?”

“Yeah. It’s not a constellation anymore,” he tells you. “But I like to think it is.”

“I wish things never end too,” you mumble. “Like Brooklyn Nine-Nine. Or that new Taylor Swift song. I wish some things went on forever.”

Ten laughs airily. “I wish too.”

You turn to look at him. The curve of his nose is pretty as ever, eyelashes hanging close to the skin of his cheeks as he breathes with eyes closed. There’s a significant number of words you haven’t exchanged yet. There’s so many words you’re holding back.

“You seem tired,” you note.

He hums in response.

“Was New York that hard?”

He opens his eyes to look at you. “A little… tiring, yes.”

“Well, I’m glad you can rest now.” You smile and he returns it. 

“I’ve been running for so long and telling myself I’m still dancing,” he says, a sigh escaping afterwards. “I don’t even know where I am anymore.”

“You’re with me,” you respond. “Right here. On my rooftop.”

“Watching the stars again,” he completes, laughing aloud. “God, I wish we were kids again. All I cared about were the flavour of my cereal and how many constellations I could memorize.”

“The stars don’t give a shit about you, Ten,” you tease, repeating the line you used to tell him.

“The stars might not give a shit about us,” he agrees, “But that’s why I’d like to watch them a little longer.” 

“Me too,” you say softly.

You take a deep breath and let it out. These are the moments between the bloom of a flower and when it is picked. These moments are serene and warm and gentle, however ephemeral they may be. These are the moments between the flapping of a butterfly's wings—times when you and Ten fell asleep in detention in fifth grade for something that was very much your fault, or when he pets your head with the biggest grin after pissing you off on purpose or the proximity of the baby blue sky after your latest shopping mall mischief. But the flower will be picked someday. To live is to live in fear, and no matter how you try to buzz out the idea of it, it will come and it will prove itself.

“Sometimes I wish I were an angrier person,” you say quietly.

“What for?”

“They just seem so much more driven.”

“You’re driven enough. I think you do everything right already.”

“Working at plant nurseries, maybe. I’m not even a good enough cashier.”

“Flowers suit you.”

“You know, I could spend my life picking flowers and arranging them if I could,” you say, sitting up. “Everything moves so fast that the garden’s gone by the time I get to smell the flowers. You get me?”

“Yeah,” he replies. “I wish time could stop. Sometimes it does. When I’m on stage.”

“What’s that like?”

“It’s very beautiful,” he whispers, eyes fixed on you.

It's quiet, the sounds of the night filling the space between you and him.

"You know, in dance," he starts, "the most powerful thing you can be is still. It's also the most difficult."

You hum in response. "I find it easy to be still with you though. It's like I don't have to perform anymore, you know?"

Ten laughs. "I know. I wish I could say that about my ambitions."

You place your palms against his cheeks, holding his face gently. You're not sure if it's because you're a little tipsy or Ten's lips that are driving you crazy, but you smile wide.

"You are like a flower," you begin rather wisely. "And spring hasn't arrived yet."

Ten blinks before snorting and then laughing like you just said the stupidest thing ever. 

The downside to getting along like a house on fire is that the house is still on fire and you don’t know what to do about it. Your heart is burning and you want to tell him the words you’re holding back. But if they escape your mouth, the wind might carry it away and leave you with a heavy response. You can’t say anything yet. Not until you’ve mustered enough courage to leave this town behind with him. Not until you have enough financial confidence to fall in love.

“Hey, Ten.”

“Hm? Don’t ask me something stupid and ruin the night.”

You giggle. “Will you stay with me wherever I am?”

“A little overdue but yes, until death do us part.” 

The two of you laugh, shoulders shaking and eyes brimming with an unsaid emotion. This is how you fall in love. You fall in love like flowers blossoming and withering, like you have only each other to withstand the test of time. 

“Should we dance?” Ten offers. “This time, maybe you’ll finally learn to not step on my feet.”

“That just makes me want to step on your feet more.”

It's so easy to fall in love that you fall asleep to the feeling—like the nights after you watched cartoons well past bedtime and thought that Ten was the prettiest boy you'd ever seen, after reading illicit internet horror stories in seventh grade that only made you huddle closer, after creating a pillow fort in the name of memories the night of your graduation when you couldn't say out loud that Ten really is the prettiest boy you know. The feeling slips in like you slip on your night clothes and you forget they were ever off at all. Comfort is a fleeting thing but in that moment, it felt forever.

act ii scene iii.

Halloween is undoubtedly the greatest time to spend with friends. There’s spooky stories shared, an abundance of favourite candies and if you happen to be friends with theatre kids, there’s most certainly a fun play going on. The crisp autumn air is vaguely nostalgic, brimming with memories in this town. 

Evening creeps in and once you’re done with the day’s chores, you get dressed with such speed that your mother has to convince you to slow down. It’s like you’re a kid again, and you'd like to enjoy this morsel of your childhood before you're forced to grow up.

Greeting Ten’s mother as you rush into the house, you run up the stairs and into Ten’s room, opening the door with a loud bang. Somehow, Ten’s scream is louder than that. He’s wearing a towel around his waist (only a towel), hands covering his chest with a horrified look on his face.

"Stop screaming," you say, hands on your hips. "We've seen each other naked, what's the big deal? Actually, do that pitch again, you sound like Meryl Streep from Mamma Mia."

Ten chokes, covering his mouth with his knuckles while he coughs.

"We were like four and a half! How does that count?"

You giggle, turning around. "Change. Quick."

"I mean, you can see if you like, darling," he calls, liltingly. "I know you can't resist me. Ugh. Can't stand all this pining from a friend."

You make a gagging sound and he laughs. It seems like he’s gotten over the initial shock of you barging in. The sound of the wardrobe opening and Ten shuffling through clothes follows. You are glad, however, that he can't see the look on your face. You must be looking ridiculous. You wonder if he can see how tense your shoulders and torso are. This is not the way you wanted to start the evening. Can he tell apart the distinct nervousness in your voice? It's suddenly difficult to play it cool. And isn't playing it cool something you do in front of a crush?

You catch a glimpse of his naked back and it makes you shake your head violently to get rid of the thought. How ridiculous. You can’t be lovers yet.

“Alright, you can turn around. What the fuck are you even supposed to be?”

"Say hello to the wicked witch of the West!" You exclaim, grinning ear to ear when you jump around.

"Oh, you don't have to dress up for that."

Your smile turns into a pout and you pull hard at his still-soft cheeks. He lets out a pained whine, grabbing your wrists and gently tugging them off. His skin turns red easily, however, and you're left with an image of rosy-cheeked Ten just like when you first met.

“You’re a demon spawn,” he hisses, rubbing his sore cheek. 

“No, that’s definitely your thing. Can’t borrow that,” you say, crossing your arms and smiling smugly. “Why aren’t you dressed as one? Actually, why aren’t you dressed as anything?”

Ten shrugs. “I have to wear some ridiculous ghost outfit for the play so I decided I’d rather play the part of a sexy pirate ghost.”

You snort, looking at the half-buttoned white shirt tucked neatly into black trousers. “You? A ghost? A poltergeist is the word you’re looking for.”

Ten rolls his eyes. “If I were a ghost, I’d definitely haunt you for the rest of your life.”

“Okay, ghost boy, let’s get going.” You loop your arms through his and pull him out, leaving in just as much a whirlwind as you walked in. You do walk back in though—to stuff a few of the cookies Ten’s mom baked in your mouth and walk right out with a muffled ‘thank you’ and your hand still around Ten’s wrist.

Arriving at the theatre, Ten catches his breath though he tries to not look worn out before squinting and making a show of searching for something.

“What are you looking for?” You ask, furrowing your eyebrows.

“The train you thought we were going to miss.”

You stick your tongue out and finally let go of his hand. He pulls it to himself, rubbing at his wrist with an exaggerated look of pain. 

“Oh, it’s still intact. Thought I’d have to bid farewell to my dreams of being a professional calligrapher.”

“Eat ink, Ten.”

“Ooh, it’s the rare PG-13 (name). Nice.”

A loud bang emanates from the back entrance, Sicheng looking like a rather mortified Count Dracula (which is strange because Dracula is immortal, right?) with fake blood splattered across his jaw and two little fangs poking out. Ten no wastes no time in complimenting them, making Sicheng rather flustered.

“It was bad enough having to listen to your flirting through the door,” Sicheng mutters. “Get in. Quick. Sooyoung pulled out and we need someone to fill in.”

Your eyes light up and Sicheng is about to deny your wishes when Ten intervenes.

“(name). You get to play a slightly deranged witch with a most definitely existing bloodlust. You in?”

“You bet I am! I was born ready. Except in sixth grade when I had that meh phase and I wasn’t born ready. Then I was born ready again!”

Sicheng makes a face. “Yeah sure, just get in.”

“Aren’t you glad I’m dressed for the occasion?”

“Not really, no.”

Ten whistles when he walks in. “How much fake blood did you guys get?”

“Enough to re-enact Red Wedding from Game of Thrones,” Johnny answers from a corner, in a costume which you can’t tell if it’s a werewolf or just a fursuit. You can never seem to guess when it comes to Johnny.

Ten laughs before turning to you, the sound tuning out. “I have never watched Game of Thrones.”

You pat his shoulder, laughing. In the next moment, Sicheng pushes a script towards you, expecting you to actually read.

“Sicheng, you know I’m going to improvise.”

Sicheng groans. “Shakespeare was right. Hell is empty and all the demons are here.”

Throwing a pointed glare at you when he says the word ‘demons’, he crosses his arms. It’s easy to convince him though—he’s quite amenable when he’s stressed out about details and both you and Ten know he just needs some reassurance and good, gentle shove.

You and Ten sit on either side of him on a really, really worn out couch that you’re not sure can hold the weight of the three of you.

Sicheng holds up his hands in both of your faces before you can open your mouth.

“I feel like the child of a really immature couple who is forced to grow up at a tender age because his parents are so immature.”

“Uh,” Ten starts. “That’s very specific.”

“The character I’m playing has daddy issues,” Sicheng responds casually, and a little out of it. “Actually he’s got mommy issues too. Why am I playing an eight year old?”

“Because children are crap at acting,” Ten answers and you reach your arm to smack the back of his head.

“What? Ow, that hurt.”

“Sicheng, it’s our stupid Halloween play. We do it to have fun,” you say, placing your hand 

“You going all motherly is freaking me out,” Sicheng says, wide eyes staring at you.

“You’re right,” you say, dramatically sighing. “Motherhood changed me. I can’t do evil black magic anymore. Aha! That’s a good dialogue, isn’t it?”

“Harrowing, actually, but I guess that’s what you’re going for.”

You and Ten share a fond smile, laughing to yourselves till Joohyun calls you and gives you basic stage direction. She’s almost never home except for Halloween and it makes the holiday even more exceptional.

“Ready, Wicked Witch of the West?” Ten nudges you before he has to go on stage. 

“Wait, is that actually my character?”

“No. No, it isn’t. For the love of cats—the animal, not the musical—please just keep speaking and make it worse on stage. I need a recording to laugh at.”

You roll your eyes and push him on. He looks so at peace there, the conversation from that night coursing in remembrance. It’s like everything is still, the lack of motion driving him to move. 

You never understand it yourself, however, when you’re on stage. You blabber like an idiot, as Ten says, and the audience laughs and that is it. You don’t experience what he does and it sometimes drives you a little crazy. Of course, you adding a pregnancy narrative to your witch does throw the rest of the cast for a loop but they handle it well. You just have to make sure you run as fast as you can from Joohyun after the play is done.

“Good job there,” Ten snickers after you duck behind a curtain as Joohyun passes by with furrowed brows and a frown. 

“I know right? I’m literally Oscar-worthy,” you whisper-yell and Ten shakes his head.

“Come on.” This time his hand grips your wrist. “I know the best way to sneak out of this theatre.”

Taking a flight of stairs that you were previously unaware of, you plunge into the darkness of what seems to be an attic. Ten turns on the flashlight of his phone and you yelp, the lighting not helping his already spooky makeup. He laughs before navigating through a bunch of boxes. 

“I heard they used to use this room as an execution chamber,” Ten whispers.

“They did not. Get the fuck out of here.”

“Okay fine. I did cry here though after reading an internet article about ill-fated lovers in ancient Asia.”

“Ugh. Truly horrifying.”

“Yeah, yeah. Emotions terrify you.”

“They do not.”

Ten stops walking.

“Oh yeah? Got any proof?”

You stop yourself before you can do something embarrassing. The first thought that came to you was to kiss the smug look off his face and it does terrify you. The bastard is right. 

“I… cried at your birthday party.”

“You were six. Everyone cries when they’re six.”

“Alright, fine. I cried after you left.”

The silence makes you look up and for once, you don’t really want Ten to be so speechless. You punch his shoulder lightly.

“I missed you a lot,” you say quietly. “Is that so surprising?”

He opens his mouth but no sound comes out. 

“Hello? Anyone inside?” You knock at his forehead before holding his face between your face. “You’re shivering. It’s pretty cold here.”

“I’m not cold,” he says quickly, the red rising in his face.

“Of course, you’re cold. Your cheeks are aflame, that’s how cold it is.”

Ten shuts off the flashlight and you scream at the abrupt darkness.

“It’s not from the cold,” he mumbles.

Now left with only Ten’s warm hand around your wrist, you let him guide through wherever the hell it is you are before emerging onto the second floor of 1075 Building. 

“What the hell?” You gasp. “Why wasn’t I aware there was a secret passage here? Is this what archaeologists feel like? ”

Ten smiles, in some sort of victory. “You don’t know a lot of things.”

You walk into the empty room, or rather wiggle in through the window—this building used to be some sort of housing apartment before being torn down halfway for renovation. Some ghost stories spooked the workers too much to continue. However, having been here long enough, you know that the only thing haunting this place is the abundance of cats. In fact, you can see a few eyeing the two of you from the other windowsills. The room is fairly well-lit and maintained so you guess the renovation will start again soon.

“You got us pizza?” you exclaim at the pizza boxes and cans of cola resting over a little picnic blanket.

“Yes, I did. Wait, crap, I forgot the candy.”

“Nah, that’s okay.” You show him the Reese’s peanut butter cups and Snickers you had pocketed from some unsuspecting children. They get way too many anyway. This is completely morally justified—you’re doing this to save them from cavities and poor health.

“I can’t believe you’d ever want to escape a theatre,” you say before humming at how good the pizza tastes. Pizza is always better when you’re having it someplace you’re not supposed to be in.

“Sometimes, it’s suffocating.” He finally bites into his pizza, an unreadable look over him. You don’t like it. Shifting closer so that your knees touch, you lean in a little.

“Oh, really? After all that talk about how beautiful it is.”

“It is. It just wears me out sometimes. Like you.”

Ten flushes red immediately. “I didn’t mean it—I, I… uh.”

“Aw, you think I’m beautiful.”

“Gah, I knew you’d say that.”

There’s a pause. 

“I got kicked out, actually,” he says quietly.

“What?”

“I had some disagreements with the writers and… and here I am.”

You look at him in stunned silence. “They did fucking what? I’m going to kill them.”

“No, (name). I was at fault. I overstepped. I guess city air made me a little greedy.”

“You were always greedy though.”

“If that’s your example of sympathy, you are horrible at it. Never try again.”

“Well.” You smile reassuringly. “You’re quite beautiful on stage. Too. Like me, as you said.”

“I’m a performer,” he says, a hint of satisfaction in his voice when he leans in. “You can’t beat me at that.” 

“Then put on a show for me, darling.” You raise an eyebrow, a cocky smile over your lips.

Ten’s cheeks colour. It’s silent for a few moments and you take notice of the lack of distance between your noses, your lips. He seems to lose touch with reality when he gently cups your cheeks and presses his lips to yours. A soft gasp escapes you, not quite ready for the contact.

Ten pulls apart immediately, a look of horror in his eyes.

“I- I’m sorry… I got caught in the—I’m sorry.”

He gets up abruptly and you still sit there in shock. When your senses are back, the room is empty and you hug yourself, feeling colder. God, you’re an idiot. For the first time in your life, you’ve come to your senses and you decide to let the only person you’ve loved walk out the door.

Your texts to him that night aren’t even left on read but you know he’s read the notifications. He always does when he’s avoiding someone. You feel the weight slithering in, pinning you down and making it hard to sleep that night. You have so many things you want to say to him and this time, you’re ready. Even if fate doesn’t let you, you will speak the lines you should have chosen much earlier.

act ii scene iv.

You don’t have anyone to show it to but the news broke you.

The idea of him keeping it all to himself, bearing burdens that are better shared makes your heart collapse its walls into itself. You’re supposed to be there. You were supposed to be there from every pitfall to the top of the world. You were supposed to be at every stage, at every afterparty and for every bout of performance high. You didn’t mean to leave the seat empty.

You were supposed to be there at every rejection and every failure, making fun of all the troubles. 

You get a text from Ten two mornings later to meet up at the new cafe everyone’s been talking about. It takes you the rest of the morning to practise what you’ll say, what you won’t and how you’ll say it. You’ve never done this much for actual plays. But you’re not acting—you just need the words to come out right.

The wall of the cafe is covered in ivy, but you cannot waste time admiring it. Your nerves have the best of you. You stop at the entrance, backtracking to say your entire speech in your head once again. The most important friendship of your life depends on this stupid monologue you came up with a night before in front of the mirror.

“(name).” 

You jump, finding Ten behind you. His nose is a little red from the cold but he looks fine apart from that. You can’t believe you’re early. This might be the first time in your life and you breathe out, slightly more confident.

“Can you… uh, not block the door?”

“Right. Sorry.”

The two of you walk in, a nervous tremble over your fingers but you clasp your hands together tight. He still remembers your favourite drink and you take a moment to try and understand why it’s surprising at all. You wish he never left.

“Ten,” you begin. “If you want to talk about that kiss—”

“Stop. I’m sorry. That was so out of line.” He lets out a distressed sigh, leaning back in the chair. 

“It’s not as bad as you’re making it out to be,” you say quickly. That was not in the speech.

He sits up. “I… Am I taking things too seriously? You’ve been my longest friend, (name). You should tell me.”

You frown. “I didn’t mean it in a harsh way. You just think it’s bad because you kissed your best friend and—”

“No. What do you think?”

You gulp.

“See, (name)? I lied because it fucking hurts right now. I don’t want to play this part.”

“No, Ten. I wanted to tell you. I wanted to tell you so many things but there’s the city, your job—oh. I- I don’t mean to bring it up if the wound is still fresh. Ten—”

“You don’t understand,” he cuts. “You’ve always been happy here. You’re happy wherever.  I’m not… like… that.”

There’s a pause. You pull your jacket closer, the temperature dropping despite the smell of warm baked goods and hit coffee.

“I thought you knew me,” you whisper coldly. 

Ten looks away. “I don’t. I don’t know. I don’t know anything about you. I don’t know anything about anything.” 

You breathe sharply. “Ten, I know the city was tough but it’s all you ever wanted.”

“I don’t know what I want,” he whispers. “I don’t know where I belong and- and it just keeps getting harder.”

Your eyes soften. “At least, you were there at Broadway. You took the first step and maybe… maybe you can make a priority list, you know? Work things out.”

“(name), stop. You keep trying to cheer me up in the wrong way.” He dips his face into his palms, rubbing at it and sighing.

You purse your lips. This conversation is going nowhere and you’re holding onto the last shred of your empathy. You just want him back with you.

“You got to go out there, Ten. You went to college, you went to New York. You got to go out there and live your dreams, for whatever it was worth, while I’m stuck in this nothing town. Forever.”

“That’s… that’s not true,” he says, voice breaking. “You were saving up for college. We would live in the same city, in the same apartment with the cats and the hot pink curtains and a coffee maker—oh god, I’ve ruined it.”

It’s painful. You don’t know what to say. If this were a movie, the beautiful, romantic kind, you’d be confessing your long-kept feelings. But you don’t know. You don’t know anything about anything. It’s been a year and he’s changed in a way you don’t know and you can’t throw it onto him like this. This isn’t a movie, and you don’t have a script. Your practised words are forgotten as soon as they reach the tip of your tongue. 

People change, and you’re holding onto someone he’s already buried. He’s not in love with you; teenage love is shaky, wobbly at the foundation. He misses the years, not you. You’ve known him your whole life and yet a year’s difference makes you see things differently. You were lonely without him. You were lonely when you had to keep yourself from calling him, when you finally decided to stop sending daily texts, when you couldn’t find the same comfort in any of your other friends. You hurt him and now, you have to face it.

You pick wilting flowers at an overgrown garden. 

No, even if it isn’t you, you want him. You want him and him only, the years be damned. The past pales in comparison to what is now.

“I’m in love with you,” you blurt. “I was just shocked last night because I didn’t think you were in love with me.”

“You’re not in love with me,” he counters. “You’ve been in love with so many people but none of them were me.”

“You. It’s you—oh my god, it was always you.”

Ten glances at his untouched cup, yet undecided on what to do with his fingers when they stop tapping against the bright red plastic table abruptly.

“So what? So what if it was me? I don’t know what it’s like to play that part.”

You breathe out. There’s a silence between the two of you, one which you remember hanging stars upon. Now it's quiet in a way that has nothing to do with astronomy, or art, or music or anything, really. It’s empty. Like every other silence.

“I loved you,” you whisper in an attempt that is more delirious than for closure. “Do you really not know what that’s like?”

Ten shakes his head. “I… I don’t.”

The memories of him smiling under the sun, only memories keep your tears from brimming up. There was meant to be closure. There was meant to be an explanation. You were supposed to be closing that door you opened into each other. Ten looks at your shaking hands and for a moment, you think he might even reach out and warm them up with his sunlit ones. You press them to your face and breathe into them.

“You brought me all the way here to lie to me?”

Ten furrows his eyebrows.

“I’m not lying—I can’t care about you. You know that, right? I’ll ruin your life. Like I’ve ruined mine.”

You laugh, partly in exasperation and partly as an attempt to alleviate the pain in your chest. 

“You’re my boy. I know you better than anything else I know.”

“Don’t- Don’t do that. Don’t make me want something more.”

"Why would you kiss me?" You bite down your lip to stop yourself from crying.

Ten seems at a loss for words, looking at you with parted lips and guilty eyes. 

"I love you. I'm sorry."

With your eyes downcast, you take a shaky breath. It's now or never. Never, never, never. The word chimes like wedding bells and you think for a moment, to lie. If you pretend, if you act, you'll live it out. He cannot stay and you cannot leave. What a ridiculous pair you are.

You squeeze your eyes shut, get up and lean over the table to place a kiss against Ten's mouth. You pull away with reluctance, looking at the quiet surprise in his eyes.

"I'm sorry," you whisper. "I got… I got caught in the moment."

Ten stares at you soundlessly, mouth moving and yet no words come out. Instead, he runs his fingers through your hair before placing his hand on your cheek and leans in again. There's a red flush over his cheeks and it makes you feel at ease.

"I didn't want to hold you back," you say after parting. "Or at least, that's what I told myself. But this year without you has been so painful."

Ten doesn't say anything.

"I… I didn't know what I felt and- and I was so scared… I didn't mean to hurt you. I hate that I did."

“I was afraid,” he says, breathing out like he was holding it in. “I was so afraid you wouldn’t care if I came back.” 

Time treats everything poorly. This time, you’ll try your best to win against it. Ten breaks into a wide, relieved smile and you laugh, rubbing at the tears that collected. God, you were so afraid you wouldn't ever be able to talk to each other anymore. Every room you’ve been in without Ten has been so empty that you had stopped opening doors at all. The coffee is hot and tastes better than ever.

//

You dream of something as ridiculous as the love you feel for Ten. 

There's a cat in the sky, made of stars and with a booming, deep voice—and you, you are little and insignificant on a forgotten rooftop. It is serene, in quiet contemplation, and you are looking at it like a neglected child at its mother. You ask something without words and it responds without words. 

All of sudden, the image disappears and you find yourself in a garden, picking flowers. The clothes you wear are not yours, the face you wear is not yours. But Ten, you'd recognise him anywhere, any time, in another lifetime.

You could see the clear distinction between the two of you however. You wore robes of royalty, the auspicious gold embroidery glistening, and he, that of a performing artist in quiet sage green. The blue irises that grew around you paid no heed to your colours and you had the thought that you should be like them. Vivid, smiling and never alone.

Ten greets you with a smile first and then stretches out his arms. You run to him, with enough force to knock the two of you onto the soft, grassy ground. No one will find the two of you here, in this flower bed. You remember thinking that royalty puts on just as much a show as theatre actors.

You didn't have to remember all of it to know that the story was a tragedy, carefully crafted by divine writers and painters. It was cruel, as is every writer's hand. You see him last under a beautiful sunset before an execution, the words ‘please’ on his lips and no hint of resentment in his smile. It was unlike him. It was so unlike him. 

You hug yourself. He shouldn’t have forgiven you so easily. It takes you a few moments to come back to your senses; this is not you. That person in your dreams wasn’t you—why did you have to feel all that pain? That person in your dream watched their lover die—no, let their lover die as though discarding a messed up sketch. Cruel. It was so cruel. 

The burning idea sprouts in your mind that it was the original script. That perhaps you were cruel and he was not and it’s been that way since forever. That if you don’t do something about it, you’ll be the villain once more. It's as scary to be young as it is lively—and not for once, did you ever think that villains were children too.

ACT III: HAPPINESS 

 act iii scene i.

If the world were to end tomorrow, Ten would spend tonight dancing with you. He says it so easily that you forget to tease him about it.

“Not like that,” he instructs, eyebrows furrowed. “Do this.”

“I am doing this.” You huff, crossing your arms.

“No, you’re not—holy shit, your arms are made of lead.”

You punch him in the shoulder and he stumbles, losing his balance. He sits down on his bed, leaning back on his arms and laughs. You join him and sit down on the fuzzy rug. He gets off immediately to sit beside you.

“I mean, you’re not that bad,” he says with a shrug.

You mimic his statement, rolling your eyes and he attacks your side with an unannounced bout of tickling. The last time you did this, you were a foot shorter and no high school dating rumours were flying around. The last time you did this, you didn’t end up kissing, limbs entangled with each other. December feels like June.

Ten pulls away from you, hovering over to kiss you once again before kissing turns into giggling which turns into laughter.

“I like this," you say quietly.

"Kissing me?" He asks with a sly grin.

"It's actually a little disappointing. Thought you'd be a ten at kissing."

"Atrocious. Disgusting. Vile. Never say that to me again."

You stick your tongue out at him and he does the same, the afternoon torpor settling in heavy as you cuddle into each other. It’s nostalgic almost but at the same time, so very new. You want to talk to him for hours and hours but when the hours end, it never feels enough. An ending is what you despise. Your thoughts meander.

“I had a nightmare,” you confess suddenly.

There’s a very brief pause. Before Ten even says anything, his arms reach out, pulling you into him. It’s warm and you smile.

“Was it your own face you saw?”

“Fuck you. You ruined the moment.”

“We were having a moment?”

You elbow him in the gut and he lets out a grunt of pain, the two of you moving away from each other just to glare. Ten caves first, sliding closer to you and placing his palm against your cheek.

“Can we resume our moment?” he asks, eyes crinkling when he smiles.

You press your forehead to his, your breathing in perfect coordination. This feels easy. This feels right. You pull away and look at him, the silence encasing your moment with him.

“I saw you in it. I… I lost you in it.” You bite your lower lip, avoiding his gaze.

“Hey. It was just a bad dream. I’m right here.” Ten draws closer, his breath mingling with yours and the warmth seeps into you just enough to forget the cold night. 

“You know what would cheer me up from a nightmare?” You nudge him.

“If you say visiting the graveyard—god, fuck, you’re gonna say visiting the graveyard. My suggestion is that you see a therapist.”

“I would if I had the money,” you retort.

Ten shrugs before furrowing his eyebrows. “Are we actually going to the graveyard? You know there are like graves there.”

“That’s… why it’s called a graveyard.”

“Don’t get smart with me, you failed seventh grade English.”

“You failed sixth grade math, Ten. Sixth grade. They teach you like fractions and shit then.”

“Do I look like I need to add three-fourths and one-eighths ever in my life?”

You shake your head before getting up with a burst of energy, and pick up your jacket from his bed. 

“Let’s go! Let’s go!” You start to chant at Ten until he reluctantly gets up. The sun is quite far from setting down yet and everyone knows the perfect time to visit a grave is twilight. Maybe the stone will give your life enough perspective to ease your anxious thoughts.

//

The town cemetery is located by the bed of dahlias which have withered in the seasonal cycle of life and death. There’s a light breeze and your jacket is just enough to withstand it. The sky is orange and pink and the graveyard doesn’t seem as looming as it does in the dead of night (which you know because you’ve visited at two in the morning on a stupid bet with Johnny and somehow Ten was the one scared shitless). You’ve heard stories of the soldiers who were buried here, the women who led the first revolution and everyone else who never got to grace history books. You’ve never enjoyed history much but you can’t gainsay that it puts everything into perspective.

Nothing else matters at the wedding altar and at the grave. 

Ten makes a face at the iron gates of the cemetery. “Okay. We’ve had our adventure. Can we please go get our evening snacks?”

“I love it when you’re antsy, Ten.”

He gives you a sardonic smile. “And I like it better when we’re in my bedroom.”

You gasp dramatically, placing your hand in front of your mouth lightly. “That’s quite scandalous of you, good sir.”

He smiles, eyes crinkling. “I consider myself something of a modern man, you see?”

You skip over the steps to the gates and do a curtsy before gesturing to the entrance. He complies with a sigh of reluctance and lets you take his hand as you pull him in. 

A loud voice startles the two of you and Ten smacks his mouth before he can scream and embarrass himself.

“What business do you have here, trespassers?” The voice echoes through the graveyard.

You look around at the trees and squint at what seems to be some children wearing masks and giggling to themselves. You roll your eyes. Johnny told you some of the town kids were mucking about near the graveyard to spook passersby. 

“You really should get back home for dinner, kids,” you say, crossing your arms.

“Silence, trespasser! You will answer our questions to pass.”

Ten bites back a laugh. “Alright, kids. Shoot.”

“Are the two of you criminals married?”

Ten wrinkles his nose. “Do we look that old?”

“Okay! Next question. Did the two of you ever… do it?”

“What?” you ask, tilting your head. 

Ten groans. “You can say sex, you know? Don’t be pussies.”

You elbow him in the side and he yelps. 

“Those are kids,” you whisper.

“I think they’re old enough if they’re asking,” he whispers back.

“No,” you answer the same time he answers “Yes”.

“What?” You look at him in surprise. 

He shrugs, somewhat guilty. “New York,” he responds in a meek voice. “You know?”

You snicker before it turns to laughter. “Why do you look like that? It’s not a crime to have sex—how the fuck did you even get some though?”

“It’s called having sex appeal. Ever heard of it?”

You roll your eyes, opening your mouth to say something when one of the kids clears his throat.

“Okay! You may pass.”

You furrow your eyebrows. “You really just the wanted to ask us about sex, didn’t you?”

“Let’s go, boys!” The kid declares before stopping abruptly. “And girl.”

A group of kids emerges from behind the trees and flock to a hole in the stone wall, laughing amongst themselves as they run out.

“Wow. Kids these days, huh?” Ten says.

“When we were their age, we convinced Yukhei to poke a beehive.”

“Okay, we were asshole kids but no one ever really told us bees were deadly.”

You walk further into the graveyard, beelining towards the same graves you visit often. They’re unnamed but they died sometime in the nineteenth century. Time passes in a way that is hard to comprehend—all these people and stories are never remembered and time is the only witness. Perspective is a luxury to those who have the time to look.

“Why do you like coming here?” Ten asks quietly, eyeing the gravestones with an unreadable look in his eyes.

“For perspective,” you answer truthfully.

He hums, a somewhat understanding note in his voice.

“They only lived for twenty-four years,” you note.

“The world ends too soon sometimes.”

“Kind of sucks.”

“Really sucks.”

The wind is cold when it passes the two of you by. Ten shivers and zips his jacket before checking up on you, fixing your jacket to cover you better.

“When I leave this place, I hope I have a nice farewell,” you whisper.

Ten raises his eyebrow. “Don’t you want it to be an awful, everyone’s-crying sort of affair?”

“No,” you respond, giving him a confused look.

“I want at least one person to be crying,” he replies, shoving his hands into his pockets. 

“That’s kind of—wait a minute.” You glare at him. “You don’t have to use that against me. I wasn’t crying crying.”

“I’m not! I mean it. Like, I want to mean something to someone.”

You draw near enough to link your arms, sighing at the warmth emanating.

“And you’re lying. I know you sobbed right into the pillow like a dramatic ass Disney princess.”

“You’re the one with a flair for drama.” You chuckle.

Ten makes a reluctant sound of agreement, crossing his arms. As he looks at the graves, there’s an expression on his face you can’t quite fathom. It could be mourning—but the graves are nameless, or it could be pity—but he believes that pity is not a positive emotion to feel. You want to ask but something keeps you from it. Something tells you that the answer won’t be pleasant for either of you.

“I hope I cry too,” he whispers. “When I leave and the curtain falls and the world ends.”

You look at him, pondering.

“When I leave,” he begins again, “I want it to hurt. When everything changes, I want it to hurt bad. Then I know it meant something.”

You slip your hand into his and squeeze. “If it means anything, you know I’ll cry if you leave.”

Ten laughs. “Yeah. So when you cried, was it the ugly snot cry or the silently sobbing kind of cry?”

“Fuck off.”

He opens his mouth to retort but gets a full kiss on the mouth instead, good enough to make him forget it. It’s a nice thing to get used to. If time permits, you could do everything together forever.

You return at twilight, grabbing some snacks and arguing whose Netflix account to use and the sun sets before you come to an agreement but it’s not winter anymore inside his room. In fact, it doesn’t feel like winter at all till you look outside and see the naked trees and darker skies, and you remember when you decided last year that you don’t like winter. 

Before you can have a change of heart, you turn to him with sparkling eyes.

He smiles before you even say anything, reading your face as easily as the back of his hand. “You have good news? Or, like, a gift?” Chuckling in breaks, he runs his fingers through your hair.

“I just wanted to talk about our future.”

“Hm?” He seems a little surprised.

“I’m sure we’ll work something out for the both of us. I have faith in you. And in us.”

Ten’s smile falters but he doesn’t let it fall. “I’m glad you do.”

His ringtone startles the two of you just as you lean in, Ten muttering curses at the device. Pausing for a bit when he takes out his phone, he signals you that he needs a minute and leaves you alone in his room. 

Nothing much has changed. There's his cluttered ash wood desk with sketchbooks of varying sizes and colours, shelves with small plushies and, you notice carefully, the butterfly pin you stole. Beside it is the panda soft toy you had found at the side of the road walking back from school and felt so bad, you had "adopted" it. You let out a chuckle.

“Ten?” you call, holding the little panda soft toy.

Ten paces outside his room, speaking in a hush. His features are tense, shoulders stiff and eyes focused when he talks to the caller. Noticing you, his eyes soften for a bit and he makes his way towards you.

“I’ll- I’ll talk to you later,” he speaks sharply into the phone.

“Who’s that?” you ask, walking up to him.

“Sicheng,” he replies briskly.

“Oh.” You remember the doll in your hand and pick it up to show him. “Remember how we got this?”

He smiles but something is amiss in his eyes. “Of course I remember.”

Whatever it is, it must not be important. After all, he’s your best friend and best friends tell each other everything. Morning will come and everything will be alright.

//

The night is cold and the moon is missing. The clothes you wear are not your own once again. This dream begins when the sun has just set and you can taste bitter defeat, but of what battle you don’t know yet. 

All you know is that there is a war and you are caught in the crossfire. It hurts; you can’t feel your limbs anymore and another injury won’t matter anymore. Maybe this is the only life you won in.

No one dies in a way that matters. No one dies for anything at all. It just happens and that is a truth lying within the reach of the universe. Yet then again, when you find your last breath escaping you as you hold hands with the love of your life, you think there must be some meaning to it. You’re only twenty-four and you will be buried in a nameless grave for a war that was the fault of neither of you. 

It dawns on you the moment you wake up, brushing away the tears on your cheeks. The universe is forgetting you, and the universe is being forgotten, until there is nothing left to be remembered.

All you can think then is that you will miss Ten in the next life, and in the next and the next. 

act iii scene ii.

Ten has to tell you. He knows. He knows how the story ends. 

But he’s afraid. He didn’t know how long he’d been walking facing forward till he’d turned around just to find you gone. New York was fun and he made new friends but it’s difficult to be anywhere without you. You’ve been attached at the hip for so long, it’s become strange to be apart.

Ten thinks about the call. The director was very particular about his role and chances come by as rare as diamonds. Ten breathes out heavy in annoyance, covering his eyes with his forearm. He loves sunny winter mornings and this is the worst one he’s ever experienced. He can hear his mom cooking downstairs, the sound soothing and he groans, running his fingers through his hair. 

He should tell you. He knows he should tell you. But fear never walks in on stage with full gusto, it creeps in, slithers in till he feels a shadow behind him on stage and suddenly, he can’t see the lights anymore. Ten is afraid. He is afraid of losing his sense of self to the millions of people he’s played, and to your vibrant world of flowers and colours. You are always front stage centre. You are at the bottom of everything and he can’t let himself fall deep enough. He’s not enough.

Ten turns to face the collection of DVDs on his shelf, untouched since he'd left. What did he start performing for again? Was it the time you and him pretended to be pirates in his room, his bed your gallant ship, or the time he watched his first movie on a sweltering hot summer day, or the time he sang to you the first time (it was a birthday song remix, made by Ten himself). Surely, it was for something beautiful and not for something like greed. At that time, he thought that maybe if he stole enough lives and stuffed it into the gaping hole, it would sate his envy of the people around him. The bright vibrant colours, he made his own and yet still, he feels like a thief with his nimble feet and a stash of paint bottles in his arms. He's not satisfied at all.

It was a sunlit morning and Ten thought to himself, wouldn’t it be nice if he could paint with all the colours of the rainbow? You, who are so full of vibrance, couldn’t understand this epiphany of his.

"You keep getting on my nerves," he mutters in this empty room of his. "Everything you do gets on my nerves."

Ten decides that he’ll tell you this evening. After all, best friends tell each other everything. The theatre means the world to him but the whole world is out there, ready to be his stage. Eventually, this loneliness will turn into a performance and he’ll be grasping at identities trying to find familiarity. He will take his masks off over and over again, and he knows he’ll still be wearing one. He wants to greet you with his real face.

The world spins at the rate of a thousand miles an hour. It never stops, and that must mean everyone on it can’t stop either. 

//

The crows are singing a song, or talking amongst themselves. You can never know. The song is dyed red as the evening, and with a splash of purple. It’s the season to miss flowers and warm hands and the sweet taste of ice cream. You don't know why but the "let's go to the gardens" text from Ten gave you the most awful feeling, much like the morning after your nightmares.

“I have to go back to New York.”

You look up at Ten from the park bench beside the dahlia fields. The flowers are asleep, not in bloom until next autumn. 

“What?”

“I got a call… from someone I know.”

Your first reaction is to smile wide and jump up. “That’s great! You’re not jobless anymore.” You laugh.

But then the corner of your lips twitch and your smile drops. The word ‘goodbye’ hangs at the tip of your tongue and you look at him, slightly perplexed. Ten, who looks at you with so much kindness, will never understand this envy of yours.

“When… when do you come back?”

“I don’t- I don’t know. It depends on how well I do.”

You laugh despite the heavy feeling settling in your chest. “That- Let’s hope your acting is shitty then, hm?”

Ten frowns. “This isn't a joke. For once in your life, can you look at me with sincerity?”

You grit your teeth at his words. 

“I’m trying to lighten the mood, god dammit,” you murmur bitterly.

“And I’m saying you don’t have to.”

There’s something looming over the top of your heads, something eerie like a clock that never stops ticking or a clock that never ticks.

“Can I kiss you?” you ask, surrender in your voice already. 

If you kiss him where you hurt him, will everything be alright? Can you grow the flowers he likes over his scars? Flowers… flowers—which were his favourite again? Irises or daisies? It must have been the prior; you’ve glanced over a hundred times at the endless fields of sleeping blue irises in his sketchbook. And yet, you doubt. Were those flowers chrysanthemums? You’re grasping onto memories and your knuckles are starting to hurt.

Ten looks at you with a gaze that is of the past. He looks at you like he’s mourning, like he’s keeping something grave from you. So you lean in, your lips brushing against his before you can kiss him fully. You want to feel him and for him to feel you, the idea of a relationship foreign and close to you as ever. Even so, you feel like a ghost as you run your fingertips over his skin and through his hair. He knows how to kiss you, how to hold you—and he’s known you for years.

Ten pulls apart for a few moments, breaths weaving into each other. It’s only five centimeters between your lips but it’s still five centimetres. You don’t know if you were meant to be apart or if you were not. The show must go on.

You brush the hair from his face, a lingering smile on your face from the kiss and the way his features align so perfectly. It’s easier to avoid his gaze that way. 

“I’m tired,” he whispers. “I’m so tired. I feel like my skin is losing its grip on my bones. Everything’s falling apart.”

You hum, choking up at the sound of his voice. Soft and yet, so heavy.

He takes a sharp, shaky breath. “I don’t want to go.” 

Forever is the sweetest lie you’ve told each other. 

“You’re going to go,” you pronounce the words into realization. “You’re going to go away again. And I’m going to be right here.”

Your broken heart is making it much more difficult than it should be.

“Don’t go,” you whisper hoarsely. Maybe if this time you didn’t lie. Maybe you’ll be his number one, his lead finally. 

His breathing gets erratic, and he takes a step back to cover his face with his flushed hands. It’s painful to watch him this way and you want to take your words back. But you knew. You knew what the words would result in, what the words would grow into. You feel cruel.

“I… I can’t give up,” he says finally, “I can’t- I can’t. I’m sorry, oh god. Why can’t you come with me? Why do I have to go back alone?”

You swallow, your eyes downcast. 

“I’m not going to wait,” you say finally. “We should… we should stop now. It’s been long enough for us to go our own ways.”

Ten doesn’t move, at a loss for words.

“You… I'm sorry,” he says, choking on his own words. 

Your lips tremble and you wipe at your eyes. He cups your face, thumbs swiping away the tears before you can muster enough strength to push him away. You’re a complete mess, in a way you haven’t been before. Even now, he’s the only one you can face.

“We’re not,” you say, regaining some control over your tongue, “We’re not supposed to be like this. Do you think we would even be friends if we didn’t grow up here together?”

“What- What does that matter?” He furrows his eyebrows, drawing nearer.

“I’m saying that everything could just be a coincidence and maybe… maybe things should just end sometimes.”

You just want to kiss him, in the way a romantic story ends in a sweet kiss and it’s a happy ending.

“You don’t mean that,” he whispers. “But if you want distance, I’m giving you thousands of miles of it.”

You clench your jaw. “Don’t blame me for pushing you away.”

Ten throws up his arms in exasperation. “I’m not blaming—why are you so defensive all of a sudden?”

“You made me that way,” you answer, pitch low. Your throat hurts. 

Ten looks at you with disappointment in his eyes, baby pink lips in a frown you hate. "I'm sorry. I have to leave."

You nod and let the words 'see you tomorrow' slip the same time 'goodbye' slips his. He turns his back and walks forwards as he always has, and you look in from the same place as you always have. 

Eventually, you get the energy to go home. You greet your colourful room with the same look you always have before something catches your eye. The colour of your room mostly comes from the polaroids stuck to your wall—you and Ten at your high school graduation dancing to Nicki Minaj, Yukhei and you looking done holding the caricatures Ten painted of you, Sicheng and Ten and you after your first theatre performance together. There are so many smiles that you end laughing, a little crazy with the sound. Perhaps spring isn't as far as you think it is. Perhaps you will be okay.

Everything has an end. You know that. It hurts so fucking bad.

Ten was right. Because it hurts this bad, you know it meant something now. It meant the whole world to you. Winter tumbles upon you at full force even as you hold autumn dearly in your arms.

//

This time, you close your eyes to find yourself in a field of dahlias. The dream is meandering with colours and sounds so quiet that you feel like you’re stuck in time. Then a loud vibration resounds throughout the field; it is not a field at all. 

You are sitting atop a bed of stars, in the belly of something much larger than you are. There is a place in the universe for everyone but you cannot find yourself in it. 

So you sit at the places you’ve always known, at gardens and children’s parks, waiting till your hair turns grey and your skin starts to wrinkle. Time flows around you, faster with each second but you sit so still that you're not breathing anymore. You're so jealous of those who move, dance and play. Does it have to be this painful? You don't want to be all these people in your dreams. You want to paint your own mask.

The world is so busy and you are completely still. You think of sunshine in New York and how he must be loving it and for a moment, your plastered lips quirk upward. 

When you wake up, Ten is on a flight to New York with a text that reads: "I'll come back. I promise." The sunset after a farewell—even you understand the beauty of it and so, you watch him chase his dreams into the sunset.

act iii scene iii.

You know an ending scene when you see one. It’s the only scene you didn’t end up sleeping through. But this doesn’t feel like one, no matter how deep the despair runs through you. This third act love was never supposed to work out and yet, something is amiss.

Ten doesn’t come back even when the billboards proudly show his face and he’s the star of the show. In your opinion, he always has been. But people get comfortable in the present, sink their feet into it, and when they do, they forget the past. 

The world spins at a thousand miles per hour but nothing seems to move for you. Everything stops and life goes on.

epilogue.

Your youth starts to run out.

Sorrow grows into anger, then into resentment. You’re not sure what you hate so desperately but you hate it nonetheless. You’re pissed and you don’t know what to do with yourself except wake up shaking and wanting to shout and cry at the world. You were supposed to have Ten by your side even then. Even when you’re against the world, he was supposed to be there. Now you’re all alone in a world that’s crashing and burning, in a world of your own making and in a world that is no longer in the palm of your hand.

You wish you were an angrier person, you wish you could curse and scream and fight as easily as they do in movies. At least he didn't make a villain out of you when he left first. 

You don’t really have nightmares anymore though. When you have nothing to lose, you start to fear less. You tend to a little garden of your own making after Mr. Yang passes away. There’s a quiet funeral and a will written with your name on it. You did spend most of your time there after Ten left. It’s your flower shop now and you can tend to whichever flowers you want to keep alive.

Sometime in your late twenties, you get a call from an old friend. You meet Doyoung at a coffee shop near the college he went to, and he tells you he got your number from Yukhei that night you met. He says he’s glad your number hasn’t changed in all these years—he found it going through his contacts. You find it cute the way he becomes flustered when trying to explain himself. He’s a lawyer now, finished all those tough years to complete his dreams.

It makes you smile. You think that dreams shouldn’t be kept in a bottle but your shelves are full.

You go on dates at the cutest new cafes and the most ambient restaurants, sometimes to amusement parks so you can laugh at his fear of scary rides. It feels like having a friend once again and you cheer up for the better. 

But Doyoung doesn’t understand history the way you do. He doesn’t understand a lot of things—but it’s not something you expect anyway. He’s rich and he doesn’t know what small towns are like. You think you can be in love again. He proposes to you on a yacht and you nod, paralyzed from your fear of the ocean. Your parents are so happy for you that for a brief time, you feel happy too in the shadow of their joy.

You don’t visit your hometown anymore after the wedding. You don’t visit theatres at all.

Sometimes you remember the night at the rooftop after the party with Ten and smile. But it was one night, one thing you did in a lifetime of nights and things you did. It dawns on you just then that loneliness makes you fragile, fragile enough to push people away instead.

Every time you close your eyes, you’re still dancing with him on the rooftop below the stars that are yet to fade from your memory. You now pick wilting flowers at a wilted garden.

“A play?” you ask, confounded. Doyoung has never been one for theatre.

"Your mom said you liked theatre," Doyoung answers, eyes inquisitive.

"Did she now?"

He smiles. "If you've grown out of it—"

"No. No, I've always wanted to watch a show on Broadway."

"That's settled then."

You start to understand the meaning of this place to Ten. You haven't called him in years and you didn't keep in touch after the first year. Life was as busy for him as it was still for you and you understand some of it now. After all, who would ever want to leave this place?

Being a part of the audience runs a chill up your back, with certain memories drawing to the surface of your thoughts as you sink into the seat. It's a popular musical but you can't say you've ever heard of it. Time runs differently in your little bubble. 

It hurts just about as much as you expect it to. Watching Ten on stage hurts so bad you almost look away. The nostalgia scratches at your throat, filling your head with memories you shouldn't be entertaining anymore. You should've kept in touch. You should've done something. You were friends before everything else.

All you want from him now is forgiveness. You’re fine with loving him quietly. You’re fine with loving him quietly. You’re fine with—

You start to cry before you can do anything about it. Doyoung doesn’t notice beside you, dozed off already to the soft orchestral music.

You must seem delirious, mourning as though you’ve buried a loved one. With a shaky breath, you force yourself to look. It is the tombstone of your childhood love that stands on stage. You were rash. You were so, so young and rash. Your lips tremble again and you cry, chest rising and falling as you remember something so forgotten that it seems a dream, something so warm that’s now six feet under in the cold ground. You mourn.

But he seems happy—and that's all you ever really cared about. That's all you should have cared about.

The play ends on a wonderful musical note and you find yourself in better composure. Shaking Doyoung awake by the shoulder, you look at him expectantly. He seems partly embarrassed to have dozed off and partly apologetic.

"You want to meet Ten?" Doyoung asks quietly.

You blink in surprise.

"You grew up in the same town, right?"

"Yeah… Yeah, we did."

Doyoung smiles. "We went to college at the same place."

"Oh, I know. Most everyone from my town goes to college there actually."

Doyoung hums. 

"He invited me, actually," he says after a while.

"Oh."

It hurts only a little that he didn't invite you first. Did all those years mean nothing beyond a little romance? If you were years younger, you could be chiding him for it. If he were years younger, he would greet you with a Cheshire cat smile.

Backstage smells of sweat. A little perfume and powder but mostly sweat. You know that already. It's just that even the backstage here is grand. 

Ten looks as pretty as ever, even with half the makeup off his face. He looks as pretty as billboard posters, where he was meant to be, and in smiling Instagram posts and articles about how perfect his smile is. He's pretty but in a different sort of way.

Ten doesn't seem surprised. In fact, he greets the two of you with a poster smile. 

"Doyoung," he says first. "(Name). I hope, no wait. You guys better have liked that."

Doyoung laughs. "You'll bully me into liking it even if I didn't."

Ten rolls his eyes. "Law makes you so boring. Or maybe you were always boring."

Doyoung sighs, shaking his head. "Not everyone wants to be the life of the party. There's quite a bunch of wild stories about you on the internet."

Ten snorts. "I don't know why but you saying 'the internet' makes you sound thirty years older."

"There's no arguing with you, is there?"

"Learnt from the best."

You clear your throat. "If the two of you are done with your homoerotic banter…"

Doyoung chokes the same time Ten makes a gagging sound. What the two of them have in common is that they easily become flustered around you.

"I'm going to go wash my face." Doyoung excuses himself, exiting the backstage. 

In any other time or place, it would be fine being just the two of you.

"Ten," you acknowledge. "You look good."

"I always do."

You roll your eyes. "You don't have to mask everything with humour."

"Like you did?"

You fall silent.

“Does it hurt?” you ask.

“It does,” he whispers before raising his voice something more audible. “When I look at your—our old pictures, it does.”

"You've kept them?"

"Of course."

You look at your feet. The reality settles. You’re not going back to the way things were. You’re married to another man. Ten’s not in love with you anymore. If you had taken the step forward back then, if you had kissed him before he took that step back—would things have turned out differently? 

The stars will now gaze at lonely rooftops and empty flower gardens—an audience you never wished to entertain. But now, you're glad to have been part of his play, part of the play you made together.

“Are you happy these days?” he asks. There is no malice, no resentment in his voice.

“Almost,” you answer. “There’s just one thing missing.”

To ask for forgiveness does not mean erasure. You can't move on by letting it go and pretending it was never in the palm of your hand.

“I’m sorry it wasn’t me,” you say quietly, rubbing your forearm.

Ten smiles. “We were a little confused, I think. We wanted to be loved, appreciated and found the easiest way.”

You smile back. “Yeah. It was always easiest with you.”

Ten pauses, looking around with a familiar feline look in his eyes before whispering, “So, Doyoung? Really?”

You straighten, crossing your arms. “He’s really nice. And he’s always asking me how I am, what I ate, and he buys me all the soft toys I want. And he’s a better kisser, by the way.”

Ten places a hand over his heart in mock indignation. “Now, we both know that’s not true.”

You roll your eyes before a short giggle turns into chuckling into laughter, and the two of you find yourself with smiling eyes, the look of childhood on your faces and memories unkempt. 

It is better to grieve than to never have loved anyone enough to. 

It doesn’t hurt anymore but maybe it stopped hurting a long time ago. But it meant something to you, meant so much to you and that's all that makes sense now.

notes.

the words to the play at the beginning of act i scene i is taken from tang xianzu’s preface to his own play, the peony pavilion, however they are not exact quotations. the graveyard scene and the “when everything is gone, i want it to hurt” dialogue are inspired by indie game night in the woods by infinite fall studio and i love that game pls check it out if you have the time and money!!

[milk-and-violets]

What’s your favorite tohs song ?

Oh, the fatal question! I could not tell you, but I can say my top from each album, and why a few oddballs may have been my favorites at certain times.

Eponymous Album: I think I underrate this album so much, and honestly going back and thinking about these songs has me longing to go listen to the live versions again. Honestly, out of all the albums, this one was the hardest for me to pick my favorite, and it kinda ties between "Lay Me Down," and "Cold is the Night," and the only reason "Trees" isn't also vying with them is because I just want there to be more of it.

The fact that "Second Child, Restless Child" echoes concepts in "Lay Me Down" hits me every single time and I love it so much for that reason alone. It speaks to my experience as a curious, energetic child stuck in church when I was little, and the feeling of being driven away from a place because you deeply believe the word isn't how people around you say it is?? Slaps. (I may or may not be having full song analysis thoughts about that now, h e l p)

As for "Cold is the Night," see: take away this apathy / and bury it before it buries me. Need I say more? The lyrics in that one are also just. Hauntingly evocative. They feel like a lullaby sung by a knowing older self to a younger one. Or vice versa? Just thinking about "bitter is the thought of all that time / spent searching for something I'll never find" and *reminiscing on loss of faith noises*

Through the Deep, Dark Valley (TTDDV): I love so many of the songs in this album, obviously. Mostly the first 3 and the last 4. However, I can say that (partially due to my love of niche live performances) my true fave is the combo set of "The Truth Is a Cave" running into "Valley (Reprise)." Nothing like it. Sublime. Heart-threatening. Makes you wanna jump off of something like a big box speaker and throw a tambourine straight at someone's head.

Dear Wormwood: This album deserves the hype it gets, really and truly. If I want to go really nostalgic, I can listen to it all through and have the full experience of human emotion. However, the two songs from it that Really captured my heart are "This Will End" and "Thus Always to Tyrants."

"This Will End" is just.... I don't cry a lot. Almost never. But I would happy cry if I got to see that song played live. I know it. "Thus Always to Tyrants" is the song that makes me channel Maggie's Pickathon energy and dance barefoot on any available surface.

Notos: (my beloved) "Constellations" was the song that Got Me Into The Oh Hellos. I owe that song my life. That at "On the Mountain Tall." I was having a relapse into LOTR phase and I think I listened to those two songs almost exclusively for at least a week. They were my favorite songs for a solid month.

Eurus: Eurus, from Eurus. The OG. The song that got me Really into the Oh Hellos. That made me stop and go: oh Word? Passerine gets a shoutout for being my blog title and also for the METAPHOR??? Like Maggie and Tyler did Not mince words and I love them forever for that. They really said we're gonna roast prosperity gospel & harmful theology and we will take no prisoners.

Boreas: Like the above, Boreas, from Boreas. But only for the period of time before the rest of the album came out. This song gets a shoutout for being my Most Listened To Song from 2020 even though it came out like halfway through the year. I listened to that song non-stop for like three days, and then burned myself out enough that I couldn't listen to it again for about a month and half. The other song I really love from that album is "Cold," which I went feral enough over that I wrote my first lyrics analysis post about it! (Lapis Lazuli slaps too, but everyone knows that)

Zephyrus: Ahhh my white whale of an album. My favorite color. The season of my soul's aesthetic. This album was so different. So spicy and delightful. I pulled a Boreas-Boreas with "Soap", and now I find it too sweet to listen to often. I think of it quite fondly though. My favorite song from this album is, without a doubt, Rio Grande. It feels like an adventure song, which I adore so much. I think my first 5 listens gave me at least a year of my life back. I have (1) draft on tumblr and it's my 6 paragraph unfinished analysis of that song.

[beware-of-you-98]

Hey I saw your prompt list thing and almost died, could you write something one day about prompt 3, Emily reassuring jj. I didn’t realise how much I needed that in my life until I saw that.

“You’re not hurting me, you’re not heavy. I’ve got you, love.”

tw: mentions of ptsd, anxiety, violence

It happens in a matter of seconds.

One moment, Emily has her head on JJ’s lap, content with the warmth she provides and how easily her fingers glides through her hair. Dull nails lightly scrap against her scalp and she leans further into the feeling. The lamp on the table beside them gives off a muted golden glow, making even the room feel warm even if both of them are in sweaters and sweatpants.

The next, the room goes black from a sudden and spontaneous power outage.

Emily’s eyes fly open and look up, not because of the sudden loss of light, but because of the soft, surprised gasp that escapes the blonde’s lips. Her fingers still in place, her body rigid and tense from her nerves. Her eyes are glazed, wide with panic as they dart frantically around the room.

The brunette sits herself upright beside her wife immediately, forcing herself to keep her hands at her side—she knows better than to reach out for JJ without consent (it always does more harm than good, so she stays put even if it pains her to do so). “JJ?”

Blue eyes dart quickly around the room, a sliver of pink tongue darts from her mouth to wet her lips as her heart beats increase. Her chest is starting to rise and fall rapidly, her body is already wracking with horrible tremors and she can’t find herself focusing on anything but the smell of mildew and gunpowder, blood and sweat. She squeezes her eyes shut, placing her hands firmly over her eara because all she can fucking hear is the grunt of pain that comes from her friend every time their captor finds some new way to torture him...

“JJ, can I touch you?”

Emily’s voice is muffled by the noises JJ knows, knows, aren’t there but she can hear them so vividly: the clanking of chains, the clamboring of boots against a concrete floor, water dripping, the strong, crackled zap of electricity as it shoots out between the two metal rods crudely attached to the car battery. The realistic memories are so real they throw any sense of rationality she has out the fucking window.

And her body, god, her body hurts. Her side spazms (whether it’s voluntary or not, she can’t focus enough to tell), the skin feels hot and... Her stomach coils harshly as she gags— god she can swear she smells her own flesh burning.

Her breathing hiccups, her throat constricts painfully as tears squeeze from her eyes. Through the haze, she just barely hears Emily repeat her question and gives a single, jerky nod. Her hands clasp tightly into the older woman’s, the soft clicking of their wedding bands hitting together offering her some semblance of balance, something that tethers her to reality. Emily’s thumb rubs slow, soft moving circles on the backs of her hands, distracting her from the awful memories. “What can I do to help?”

It takes a lot of effort for JJ to swallow, and even so, it hurts like she’s trying to get down a ball of lead from her throat. She opens and closes her mouth, unsure of how to respond, can’t even think clearly enough to form a rational response. Her eyes squeeze shut once more, a soft, scared whimper crawling its way from her chest. “It hurts,” she croaks through tears as if it’s enough to encompass everything she’s feeling. Her tone is clipped and sharp, laced heavily with the frustration she feels at herself, at being unable to decipher what’s real and what’s all just in her head.

Emily’s fingers squeeze her own firmly. “I know,” she whispers soothingly. “I know.”

JJ nods numbly, stiffly. The validation makes her relax ever so slightly and makes her feel less insane. She forces herself to focus on Emily, on every part of her (her voice, her proximity, the feeling of her breath just ghosting over her cheek, her scent), and slowly the memories feel less intense.

She leans tiredly into the older woman’s frame, using her steady heartbeats to count with in her own head.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, and repeat.

Slowly, her breaths start to sync up to the rhythm and she’s left trembling in her wife’s arms.

Emily’s warmth is a jarring contrast from the cold visions, her body soft and gentle, so unlike the hard concrete ground and oh-so-real echoed pains of her past torments. “Where are you?”

A thick, hard swallow echoes into the room as JJ’s breath hitches. “Home,” she timidly responds, the end of her voice rising as if she’s unsure. The more rational part of her mind screams at her— where else would she be?

But everything feels so real. If she weren’t pressed up against the older woman, she swears the room feels cold, that she’s back in that warehouse hanging from rusted metal chains that dig into her wrist.

“That’s right,” Emily confirms gently. “You’re in DC in our home,” she clarifies just as softly.

“You’re real?” It comes out so soft, so timidly that she barely hears it. But JJ’s looking at her warily, as if she’s unsure of even that.

There’s a gentle pressure on the blonde’s wrist as the brunette moves her hand and gives it a squeeze. “I’m real. I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.”

The room is silent for a brief moment, JJ’s shaking, steadying breaths filling the room with some noise. Her nails dig into the back of Emily’s hands as she stuffs her head firmly into the crook of her neck in attempts to control the tremors that wrack her small body. “Sing to me?” she finally croaks.

The older woman barely reacts to the request, moving her hand to stroke through long strands of blonde. She nudges her wife’s head with the side of her nose, her lips brushing against her forehead softly as she softly starts to sing. She wants to give JJ as many points of contact as possible, if only to reassure her that she’s real and that she’s not in danger. “Blackbird singing in the dead of night. Take these broken wings and learn how to fly...”

Emily’s voice is soft and light, soothing JJ’s nerves significantly, especially at the choice of song. No one else but her wife would have picked that song. It reminds her what’s real, tethers her back to reality. The brunette’s chest rumbles steadily from her voice below the blonde’s cheek and she nuzzles further into it. Each passing verse Emily sings makes JJ feel lighter, safer.

(Tired, she adds to herself, eyelids feeling heavy. It’s been a while since she’s had an attack this bad.)

She blinks harshly when Emily sings the last line of the song, accurately aware of the sharp, cool breeze that blows across her body. Her head lifts and she blinks again in confusion when she accesses her surroundings: the cool grass tickles her ankles, the sounds of cicadas and crickets rings out and the moon shines brightly above them, casting them in a cool blue glow.

The older woman presses a lingering kiss to her wife’s temple. “I didn’t want you to feel like you were trapped,” is the quiet explination she offers and JJ accepts it with a simple nod. She crawls from the brunette’s lap and lays her head up on her thighs, staring up at the stars. Her heart rate is practically back to normal, and while her hands still tremble, she feels relaxed as Emily begins to run her fingers once more though her hair once more.

“There’s Orion,” she murmurs softly, her own line of sight up at the night sky littered in stars. She lifts a hand from JJ’s hair to point in the direction of the constellation.

The blonde hums softly, eyes following her wife’s finger before they dart off to the side. She licks her lips, pointing slightly off to the side of the brightest star in the sky. ”Big Dipper,” she murmurs before chewing her bottom lip in between her teeth.

Her eyes burn with tears, stomach coiling with guilt. Emily didn’t ask for this— she shouldn’t have had to deal with anxiety and panic attacks that weren’t her own. JJ knows it’s just as draining on her as it is on herself. She feels awful. She had ruined one of the few nights they had off all over a power outage. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t do that,” Emily chides softy, returning both her hands to her wife’s hair. “Don’t do that to yourself. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

JJ sniffs harshly, shaking her head once. “I do,” she insists on a broken whisper. “I just— I don’t...”

She’s cut off by one of the softest kisses Emily has ever given her, gently cupping her face between her palms. The blonde shivers at the contact, tears spilling at the overwhelming feeling of love she feels pouring out of her wife at the gesture. A soft sob leaves her mouth and Emily’s thumb gently strokes her cheek, pressing their foreheads together firmly.

“Don’t ever apologize for something that’s out of your control,” the brunette murmurs soothingly.

“I ruined the night,” JJ croaks timidly.

Emily’s eyes meet her’s, their fingers tangling together naturally. “You could never.” She presses a tender kiss to her cheek. “I rather you be okay over anything. That’s what matters to me. Your safety and well-being matters to me.”

The blonde’s breath shudders out as their palms press flush together. “I’ve got you,” Emily murmurs genuinely. “Through sickness and in health. I will walk beside you through whatever our lives may bring,” she recites with a soft smile, brushing the few tears from her wife’s face.

JJ’s shoulders slump at her wife’s words, her own hand coming up to curl at the hair at the base of the brunette’s neck. “I love you,” she murmurs thickly. “I love you so much.”

Their kiss is soft, but full of so much love and passion it makes them both dizzy. Emily gently grips her wife’s hip, propping herself up on her elbow in the grass. It feels so much like their kiss that sealed together their union, full of the promise of forever.

“Can we stay out here?” JJ asks through kisses, pulling back to press a few along Emily’s jawline, so unwilling to pull her mouth away from her wife but her need for oxygen becoming to much to ignore. She really doesn’t care what they do for the rest of the night— all she wants to do is spend it in the arms of the love of her life. But spending that time cuddled in the grass of their backyard while staring up at the stars sounded too perfect.

Emily presses a small kiss to her nose. “Anything for you.”