#friends and things I know and love but a city I’ve already been to 5 times

[idsb]

How funny it is that 3 weeks ago all I wanted to do was leave this place and now that I’ve set everything in motion to make that happen, I can’t think of anything worse than having to prematurely leave it behind 🥴

[misspygmypie]

Meet & Greet... and more? Pt. 6

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader Words: 2521 Click here for Part 5

Please do not repost, thank you, and leave some feedback :)

The next morning Y/N and Noah were packed and ready for their departure, with Lando loading everything into the car. He had insisted on bringing them and thankfully they were leaving from a private area of the airport, so he didn’t worry too much about crowds.

The drive was filled with light chatter and laughter, Lando making an effort to engage Noah in conversation. He pointed out various spots and shared a few facts he knew about the city, trying to make the journey as enjoyable as possible for the little boy.

As they neared the airport, Lando decided it was the right moment to bring up the topic that had been on his mind. He glanced over at Y/N who nodded in encouragement and with a deep breath Lando started talking to the boy in the backseat. “Hey Noah, I wanted to tell you something important before you two leave.”

The boy looked up from his toy car he was playing with. “Yes?”

“Well, you know how you and your mom have been so amazing to me?” Lando smiled warmly, trying to keep his tone casual and friendly. “I’ve really enjoyed spending time with you both this weekend and I want to tell you something.”

Noah tilted his head slightly, waiting for Lando to continue. “What’s that?”

Y/N took the driver’s hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze but she could see in Lando’s face that the Brit had no idea how to approach the topic. “Lando and I have been getting to know each other better and we’ve been having a lot of fun. He asked me if he could be more than just a friend to us and I said yes. So, he’s going to be mommy’s boyfriend now.”

“I know this might be new for you, but I want you to know that I’m really happy to be spending time with you and your mom. I’m looking forward to getting to know you even better and I hope we can have lots of fun together,” Lando directed at the boy, his expression nervous but hopeful. 

Noah’s eyes widened a bit as he processed the news. “Does this mean you’re going to be around more? And can we come visit you at more races?”

Lando’s face lit up with a broad smile. “Yes, I’d love for you and your mom to come visit me at more races, it would be fantastic to have you both there. I’ll make sure to have some fun stories and maybe even a few surprises for you.”

Y/N watched the exchange with a heart full of affection and relief. She could see that Noah was beginning to warm up to the idea, even though the 4-year-old probably didn’t fully understand what it all meant, and Lando’s genuine care was making this a positive conversation too.

When they arrived at the airport and Y/N went to get their boarding passes Lando and Noah found a quiet corner near the check-in area, away from other people. The young man crouched down to the boy's level, giving him his full attention.

“Noah,” Lando said gently, “I know this is a lot to take in. It’s okay to feel a bit unsure about things changing and not fully understanding it but I want you to know that I’m here because I really care about you and your mom. If you ever have any questions or just want to talk, I’m always here for you.”

“I’m not nervous. I think it’s going to be great and you really seem to like us.”

Lando chuckled softly, his eyes warm. “I like you two very much! And if you ever feel unsure, just let me know. We can always talk about it.”

The kid’s face suddenly brightened with an idea. “That means you could come to my next birthday! It’s not for a long while but it would be really cool if you could come!”

“Wow,” Lando’s eyes widened in surprise, he surely didn’t expect to get an invite to a birthday party already, “that sounds fantastic! I’d love to come to your party. I’ll check my schedule once we get closer to make sure I can make it. But if for some reason I can’t be there, I promise I’ll throw you a special party at the paddock. We’ll make it extra fun and I’ll make sure it’s something you’ll remember.”

Noah’s face lit up with excitement. “That sounds awesome! I hope you can come but I’d love the paddock party too.”

Y/N returned with the boarding passes, her face showing relief when she saw and overheard the supportive exchange between Lando and Noah. She joined them, giving Lando a grateful smile. “Thanks for being so understanding, Lando. I’m sure he will be thrilled whether you make it to his party or if we have to do the paddock celebration.”

“It’s going to be a lot of fun no matter what ,” Lando smiled back at her, “but I don’t want to have to wait that long to see you two again…”

After they finished up their goodbyes Lando watched as Y/N and Noah made their way to the gate. He felt excited about the future and the first thing he would do when he was on his next flight was to check his calendar for his days off.

_____

It was an ordinary Tuesday afternoon a few short months later and the Formula 1 world was buzzing with its usual pre-race speculation and excitement. The latest headlines were filled with updates about team strategies, driver performances and the occasional juicy rumor. 

At 2:00 PM the first hint of something significant emerged on social media. A tweet from a sports journalist read: "News coming out of the McLaren camp. Stay tuned!" The hashtag #LandoOffTheMarket began trending and at 2:30 PM, a series of paparazzi photos were released, showing Lando, Y/N and her four-year-old son, Noah, enjoying a casual day out. 

The images captured the trio in a heartfelt moment: Y/N holding Lando’s hand, his arm slung around her neck casually but tightly, while the toddler sat on the driver’s shoulders, Lando’s other hand securely holding on to the boy’s tiny leg to keep him in place and Noah’s little hands wrapped around the man’s neck while his head leaned softly onto the driver’s. A big smile adorned all of their faces.

The immediate reaction was a wave of shock, excitement and curiosity. Fans and media outlets scrambled to learn more about Y/N and her son, who had previously been unknown to the public. 

Social media platforms immediately were flooded with comments about the sweet new addition to Lando’s life. “Noah is the cutest!” and “Lando’s little family is absolutely adorable!” were among the most read comments. Photos of Noah, with his wide-eyed wonder and charming smile, quickly became a tiny sensation and fan pages dedicated to Lando began posting collages and edits featuring all three of them.

They praised Lando for his new role as a father figure and expressed their adoration for the young boy who had captured their hearts and many fans eagerly awaited any glimpses of Noah in future posts but also were quick to defend the family from invasive or negative comments.

For Lando, Y/N, and Noah the announcement marked a new chapter. What had started as a private romance was now thrust into the world, changing the dynamics of their lives in ways they had yet to fully comprehend. However, Lando and Y/N tried their best to handle their relationship as normal as possible.

With Lando being away for races their days were filled with text messages, Lando’s messages often included snapshots from his busy days at McLaren. He would send a photo of himself and his team, a behind-the-scenes glimpse of his gear or the track or a funny moment from the garage. 

Meanwhile Y/N would send images of her and her son, whether it was Noah’s latest art project, a day at the park or a cozy evening on the couch. Lando’s favorite ones though were Y/N sharing how she and Noah were watching one of Lando’s races together, cheering him on.

_____

A few weeks later it was Y/N and Noah’s first visit to a race since news of their relationship had hit the headlines. From the McLaren motorhome Lando spotted them making their way through the paddock and walked towards them, beaming brightly. Y/N was holding Noah’s hand, guiding him through the crowd. However, the photographers, drawn by the media frenzy over Lando and Y/N’s relationship, were relentless. Flashes from cameras and invasive questions quickly created an overwhelming atmosphere.

Noah soon became frightened by the flashing lights and the amount of people around him. His face turned pale and tears began streaming down his cheeks as he clung to Y/N’s leg, sobbing uncontrollably. 

Seeing Noah’s distress and Y/N’s struggle, Lando’s protective instincts kicked in. He pushed through the crowd, his voice rising above the noise. “Give them some space! Back off!” he shouted angrily. The photographers reluctantly stepped back, though they continued to snap photos from a distance. 

“Noah, buddy, it’s okay,” the driver said gently, kneeling down to Noah’s level. “We’re going to get you away from all these cameras.”

Noah, his face flushed and tear-streaked, looked up at Lando with fear. “I don’t like it… too many lights…”

Lando’s heart ached. Without hesitation he lifted him up into his arms, holding him close and trying to calm him down. “It’s alright, Noah. I’m here. We’ll find a quiet place.”

Y/N followed Lando as he carried Noah through the paddock. The tension and anger Lando felt were evident and everyone around them could sense his frustration. Reaching the McLaren hospitality area just a few short moments later Lando handed Noah a juice box, hoping to soothe him. “Here you go, buddy. This should help.”

Noah took the juice, his sobs gradually subsiding as he sipped. Lando, seeing that Noah was starting to calm down, turned to one of the team assistants. “Can you please take them to one of the offices? They could use a quieter spot to relax for a second.”

The assistant nodded and gently guided Y/N and Noah away, Lando watching them with anger boiling inside him. He then stormed into his and Oscar’s driver’s room section, slamming the door behind him. Oscar, who had witnessed the scene, followed him in.

“Everything okay?” Oscar asked as he entered the room.

Lando paced back and forth, his fists clenched. “Those photographers,” he began, his voice rising. “They were relentless! They had no regard for Noah, no sense of decency. It was like they were more interested in scaring him than taking decent photos.”

Oscar watched as Lando’s anger poured out. “It’s one thing for me having to deal with the media but to see them treating a child like that… It’s infuriating. I just wanted Y/N and Noah to have a nice day and they ruined it!”

Oscar nodded, understanding the depth of Lando’s frustration. “You did everything you could to get Noah out of there and make sure he was ok. Unfortunately sometimes that’s all you can do.”

“Yeah, I know,” Lando stopped pacing and took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. “I just hate feeling so powerless and unable to protect them from this.”

“They will be fine, mate. Let’s focus on the race and try to enjoy the time you have with them.”

Lando nodded, taking a moment to compose himself. He couldn’t shake the anger he felt but he was determined to channel it into a positive outcome. 

_____

As the race day wound down and the paddock was slowly emptying out Lando seemed detached. His usual bright demeanor was replaced with a contemplative silence that Y/N noticed immediately.

She watched him from across the paddock, his gaze distant as he stared at the now empty track. After making sure Noah was taken care of Y/N walked over to him, concern etched on her face. “Is everything okay?” she asked softly.

Lando turned to her and she could see the exhaustion and vulnerability on his face. “I just... I don’t know, Y/N. Today was supposed to be special and instead it felt like I failed in so many ways. I see how the media affected Noah and I can’t shake the feeling that maybe it’s not worth it, us being together, with everything that comes with it.”

Y/N’s heart ached at his words. She reached out and gently cupped his face, forcing him to look at her. “Lando, listen to me. I know things were a bit chaotic this morning and I know it’s hard sometimes with all the attention but that doesn’t change how I feel about you.”

“But what if this life isn’t fair to you and Noah? What if it’s too much?” Lando’s eyes met hers, searching for reassurance. 

Y/N took a deep breath, gathering her courage to say what she had wanted to say for a while now but was too shy yet to admit to both herself and him. “Lando, I love you,” she finally let him know, feeling relieved that the words were now out. “I love you so much that I’m willing to face the challenges that come with being with you. Noah loves you too. He was a bit scared today but he looks up to you. He thinks you’re the coolest person ever, you’re his idol.”

Tears glistened in Lando’s eyes, touched by her words. “I love you too, Y/N, so much, both of you,” he said softly, his voice trembling. “I’ve loved you for a long time and hearing you say that makes me the happiest I’ve ever been. You both mean the world to me. I just don’t want to be the reason you or Noah are unhappy.”

Y/N’s expression softened as she wiped a stray tear from his cheek. “We’re not unhappy, Lando. We’re just learning how to navigate this. What we have is worth it. Your love, it means everything to us and the challenges are just part of it.”

Lando pulled Y/N into a tight embrace, his heart swelling still hearing those three words over and over again in his head. 

Noah had been playing with an engineer who had taken a break from helping pack up the equipment to entertain him. His laughter filled the air as he enjoyed the playful distraction and when Lando’s gaze fell upon him, the toddler’s eyes sparkled with joy. He ran towards Lando who picked him up with one arm while still having the other one securely around Y/N, embracing them tightly. 

“I’m so lucky to have you both,” Lando murmured, his voice trembling slightly. “I promise to do everything I can to make sure you’re both happy and safe, always.”

Y/N leaned in and kissed Lando’s cheek. “And we’re lucky to have you. We’ll get through this together.”

_________

Click here for Part 7!

Tag: @barcelonaloverf1life @remmysthings @poppyflower-22 @vickykazuya @hadids-world @ririyulife @deafeningunknowntyrant @lexiecampos @littlegrapejuice @eloriis @yawn-zi @landossainz @taliya8346282844eliviahdgdajs @casuallyeating @destinyg237 @jaydensluv @hc-dutch @alana4610

[florwal]

PORTSIM SAVE FILE 1.0

portsim is a small city in the south. it was established as a town in 1752, and the current population is 97,915. it's full of history and has a lot of culture. with increasing poverty rates, gang violence, and a drug epidemic, crime is at an all time high. will the city’s new mayor be able to make portsim a safer place?

CONTENT WARNING: storylines involving drug use & violence

download + info under the cut

OUTDATED - download 1.1 here

watch my save file overview on youtube

4 months in the making and it’s finally here! huge thank you to everyone that’s been following me through the process. ♡ y’all are so kind and supportive and i really appreciate all the love. this was originally going to be a personal save, it’s inspired by my hometown (portsmouth, virginia) most builds are based off real places around me, and some households are based off my friends and family. this is very much still personal to me!

willow creek, newcrest, and magnolia promenade have been rebuilt, repopulated, and transformed into one large town

i own all packs and kits, if you don't you can still play this save but build and cas objects will be missing

check out the portsim townie index (wip) to read their bios and keep up with their stories. some already have posts but some are empty, i’ll be adding more as i play

21 residential lots / 19 community lots - please read community lot descriptions because most are multi functional! i also left some empty commercial spaces that are “for lease” so i can add things as new packs come out

added new holidays - i changed names to be more realistic and added a few (spring cleaning day, easter, independence day, halloween, christmas eve)

added 5 new clubs (city officials, a gang, a cult, a record label, painting classes by a townie)

notes:

view update log here

i’ve never made a save file before, and this is just the first version. please let me know if you run into any issues. i want to eventually add more households, and i also want to add + rebuild other worlds

i highly suggest turning the eco lifestyle ep’s eco foot print + npc voting off, unless you want the town to look apocalyptic and the trinity church community space to be set to the winter version during summer etc

i turned neighborhood stories off, but sims were still adopting babies and divorcing each other so i kept them all in the my households tab, you don’t have to keep them there!

shoutout to @cowplant-snacks and @nightlioness for letting me use some of their sims as background townies so there's not as many ugly npcs

next world that’s going to be added: oasis springs + del sol valley - idk which one will be out first! but they're coming soon ♡

DOWNLOAD on patreon (always free)

*required mods for the lit version*

please tag me in anything involving the save! id love to see how y’all play in it!

[raya-hunter01]

Not My Sister's Keeper Pt. 6

Roman X OC(Kara)

Jey Uso X OC (Tia)

Rating: 18+

Warning: Smut; sex, fluff, couple arguing, Jealousy, infidelity, pregnancy

Roamn’s wife recently left medical school and returned home to save her marriage. Upon her return, she finds out things are not what they seem. Her sister is pregnant by her best friend Jey Uso, who is also Roman’s cousin, and her husband is acting suspicious.

What happens when a conversation overhead on a baby monitor blows her world apart?

Six Months Later

Pensacola, Fl

Roman's House

That’s it….Ten years and it’s over just by signing some papers," I said as my mom sat beside me while I looked at a copy of the divorce papers.

“Roman, you messed up and what you did was unforgivable. This is all that should matter to you right now,” my mother said placing Logan in my arms as I sat her on my lap.

Her little smile as she put her tiny fist in her mouth made my heart smile.

 “I know princess, granny needs to hurry up your bottle, don’t she?” I said chuckling as she laughed at the sounds coming out of her mouth as I gently bounced her on my lap.

“Granny only got two hands and she’s coming.”

“I’m just kidding Ma, I’m happy you here and don’t know what I’d do without you and Ma Rebecca. I just hoped that Kara and I could have work things out, it wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

“Son, I’mma need you to snap outta this because this little girl needs her father, and she needs you focused on her. She already ain’t got a damn mama if we keeping it real,” my mom said cutting me deep with her words, but it was true.

I had got Tia transferred to Raw to get her outta my hair, which has been a godsend. She sees Logan whenever the mood hits or she needs something. She still won’t sign over her rights…

“I am focused on her. I’ve gotten my schedule lighter. She going to start traveling with me..I got that part mama; I just need Kara now.”

“Roman! Kara is not going to help you raise a baby that is not only a reminder that you betrayed her, but its mother is her sister! Now you starting to scare me with your delusion. It’s over son and you set this all in motion…

"Mama, I know-"

"Deal with it and figure out a way to get that fool to sign over her rights. Hell, call your lawyer back and tell him you want to go for full custody and don’t give her no money,” she said, giving me Logan's bottle before leaving the room without another word.

“I guess it’s just us, huh, baby girl?” I asked feeding her as she gripped my hand greedily sucking her bottle

Taking my mother’s advice, after feeding Loogan and burping her, I quickly shot my lawyer a text to go ahead with getting Tia served.

Hopefully, he could get it done today before she leaves out for Raw later on today.

After laying Logan down I went on Instagram and saw Jey had posted a live and had pinned it to his page. Being nosey, I clicked on it and instantly wished I didn’t.

Jey was filming the highway, the road almost seemed deserted the Boston skyline in view. I knew it well from the few times I had visited Kara.

As I was about to get off, I heard a familiar laugh as Piece of my love by Guy began playing in the background.

“It's 5 am, we out here Boston! What ya’ll know bout ridin’ round the city, listening to dat good old school music, just vibin’ wit yo’ people,” he said turning the camera on Kara who was driving and dancing in her seat.

“You can have a piece of my love,” she softly sang shooting Jey a quick glance with a smile when she saw he was recording her.  

“It’s waiting for you,” Jey said slyly finishing the lyric without missing a beat as Kara laughed and turned her attention back to the road shaking her head.  

“You ain’t ready for this Mr. Fatu,” Kara muttered under her breath as I growled.

“A’ight now, you know I stay ready,” he said chuckling, turning around showing Trin asleep with her head in Jimmy’s lap. “What’s up ya’ll,” Jimmy said nodding his head to the music.

Damn, I kinda miss the days of my cousins and I traveling and just vibin' without a care. It made the time go by and if I’m honest I missed them all.

“We’re almost there,” I heard Kara say as Jey flipped the camera to show his face. “A’ight, we out ya’ll, we gettin' ready to turn it in. Been a long ass flight, and we bout to all get some sleep,” he said abruptly ending the live.

“Motherfucker,” I whispered trying not to disturb Logan as she slept.

He just won’t give up, what right did he have even being in the car with her? A car I paid for…Sleeping in the house I’m paid for…

Damn, why couldn’t he stay away from her?

---

Kara’s Condo

Boston, MA

Kara’s Pov

“Jey, if you ask me one more time if I really want to come tonight I’mma slap the fuck outta you,” I said as he held his hands up in surrender.

“Aye, I just don’t want you to be uncomfortable. I know Tia gon’ be there,” he said as I shook my head.

“I’m going to watch your Raw debut, I ain’t worried about Tia and whatever drama she got going on,” I said reassuring him as he gave me a hug.

“I’ll see you later,” he whispered giving me a kiss on the cheek

“Ya’ll drive safe, I’ll see you in a bit,” I said as he picked up his bag, heading for the door.

“Sis, you comin’ right?” he asked as Trin smiled.

“Yes, I wouldn’t miss it. I’ll ride with Kara over there,” she said as he gave her a thumbs up before leaving.

“He’s such a goof, should have seen him in the car rental place,” Trin said as I laughed pouring us a glass of wine.

“Trin, he means well, don’t do him like that,” I said as she chuckled.

“I know he does and look at you defending your man.”

“He isn’t my man Trin.”

“You know I can’t wait for ya’ll to finally get together. Especially since you’ve already test drove the merchandise.” Trin said as I coughed, almost spitting out my wine as she laughed.

“I can’t believe you,” I coughed as she shrugged her shoulders.

“Aye, just calling it like I see it. You were riding him like you were at the rodeo weren’t you?”

“It was good too…Ugh, see, I hate I even told you. Now I’m thinking about it,” I laughed as Trin sipped on her wine unbothered.

“I’m just sayin’ if you need that itch scratched, Jey’s a willing participant.”

“Trin, in all seriousness though, I’m just trying to focus on getting back to me right now. I got a lot of shit to process before I even think about being somebody’s girlfriend.”

“I get it, you don’t want to take that energy and resentment into a new relationship,” Trin said as sighed in relief, someone finally got what I had been trying to say.

“Speaking of Roman, these the divorce papers, huh,” Trin said picking up the stack of papers off the table.

“Yep, it’s a done deal. I can breathe now,” I said sitting next to her and sipping on my glass of wine.

Roman and I went through therapy as suggested by our lawyers. It was terrible but I made it through. Roman was upset that I still wanted to go through with the divorce, but he didn’t contest it anymore.

“I can’t believe he sent you flowers,” Trin said reaching over to look at the note that was attached to the bouquet of red and white roses.

“Thank you for trying, I know I didn’t deserve it. Just know I will always love you and I’m always here. Maybe we can be friends someday -Roman.”

“Damn……Do you think you’ll ever forgive him?” Trin asked as I sighed putting down my glass.

“I think I forgave him the moment he broke down and cried in therapy about what happened. The more he talked, the more I realized at first, he was a victim in Tia’s game.”

“I can see that, but what about after the first time?”

“That’s where he has to take accountability, he made some choices that he’s going to have to deal with the consequences of and it’s no longer my problem,” I said as Trin nodded in understanding.

“Now…Tia on the other hand, I’m avoiding that bitch like the plague tonight. I don’t want to go to jail,” I said as Trin laughed.

“I feel you cause even though I got bail money you too cute for jail,” she said as I held up my glass and we toasted.

“Here’s to Jey and a night of celebration,” I said honestly happy for the first time in a long time.

I was going to see Jey tonight and for tonight none of the drama with Tia mattered. This was about Jey and his new beginnings as a singles wrestler.

-----

Monday Night Raw

Jey’s POV

“Man, I can’t believe I’m here,” I said nervously pacing as Jimmy shook his head at me.

“Aye, calm down and enjoy this moment. You gon’ be fine,” he said as I saw Tia coming over.

“Ah hell,” I whispered as Jimmy turned around chuckled. “You already know she gon’ try you.” Jimmy whispered as I rubbed the back of my neck.

“Man, I ain’t got time for this shit,” I whispered as Tia smiled walking past Jimmy as if he wasn’t there. “Well hello to you too, Tia,” he said as she shot him a sly smile before turning back to me.

“Hey, Jey long time no see,” she said with a flirty smile.

“You just really have you no shame,” Jimmy asked as she rolled her eyes at him.

“I’m just talking to him, no harm in that,” she whispered as I looked at her in disbelief.

“Jimmy, give us a minute, Uce,” I said as he got up and left us alone.

“Jey, I just thought since you’re going to be on the Raw brand we could catch up some time,” Tia said as I looked at her like she was crazy.

“Uh, I don’t even like you like that,” I said as she walked closer.

“I’m just trying to welcome you to Raw, I know it gets lonely on the road. Maybe we could reconnect and make some magic happen,” she said touching my chest as I backed away.

“Tia, I think you need help…Like mental help, your obsession with Kara and the people she loves ain’t normal,” I said trying to wrap my brain around how crazy she was.

“I’m not worried about her, I know I’m the better woman and you know it too,” she said trying to put my arms around her as I backed away with my hands in the air.

“Look, don’t ever try me like dat ever again. You know I love Kara and unlike Roman I’m hip to your bullshit. Stay away from me and Kara,” I said as she frowned.

“Kara don’t love you, if she did, ya’ll would have been together years ago,” Tia said spitefully with a smirk.

“Tia tend to your own business, and be a mom to your child. You know the one who hasn’t heard from you in months while you parade on this show and in the streets like a cat in heat,” I said as the smirk fell from her face.

“I have settled that with her father and it’s none of your concern. Still, Kara’s lap log I see,” Tia said as I chuckled.

“Still jealous of your sister, I see,” I said as she slapped me.

“Tia…… Get some help,” I said taking myself out of the situation and walking away from her. “Jey! I’ll see you soon, the road gets lonely!” she yelled as I kept walking.

I needed to get ready for the show and I didn’t have time for her craziness.

“Hey, what was all of that Jey?” Tom, who was one of the higher ups asked, stopping me before I got to my dressing room.

Great, the last thing I needed was him taking this back to Paul causing an issue. I just got here and didn’t need no drama.

“Uh, just some personal stuff, but I took care of it,” I said as he nodded. “Well, that was really unprofessional how she was acting. That was sexual harassment.”

“Look, I gotta get ready for the show. It’s all good Uce, I took care of it” I said trying to get him to drop the subject, but I knew by the look on his face it wasn’t going to be the last I heard about it.

---

Monday Night Raw

Kara’s POV

“Mom, you don’t have to throw me a party,” I said as Trin, and I pulled into the building.

“Sweetie, you got accepted back into medical school. We are celebrating and that’s final,” she said as Trin smiled.

“You know we game for barbecue, yo’ daddy can throw down. I’ll get Jimmy to do that Samoan dish you like too,” Trin added.

“The one with the pineapple chicken?” I asked as Trin nodded… “Oh, I’m there,” I said as Trin, and my mom laughed.

“Thanks for the reinforcements Trin. Sweetie, Logan will be here on Friday, but if you’re uncomfortable Janice can get her,” my mom said as I sighed.

“Mama, I will be fine. I know it’s your weekend to have Logan I wouldn’t do that,” I said as the line got quiet.

“I don’t want you to be overwhelmed baby,” my mom said as I gave Trin a small smile.

“It’s ok mom, don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”

“Enjoy the show baby, and I’ll see you Thursday, love you.”

“Love you too mom,” I said, hanging up and taking a deep breath.

“You know it’s ok to not be ok,” Trin said as I parked the car.

“I’m ok…I just don’t see myself being heavily involved in Logan’s life. Does that make me a terrible person?” I asked as Trin looked at me with a sad smile.

“No, it makes you a person that has been hurt and your feelings are valid, but I also know you.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means if that baby needed anything you would make sure she had it,” Trin said as I bit my lower lip trying not to cry.

“I would, but I don’t see myself babysitting and doing all the other auntie stuff, it would be a constant reminder of everything,” I said as Trin nodded.

“Maybe as time passes you will feel different,” Trin said as we walked towards the talent entrance.

“I don’t think so Trin, even though she’s not to blame for what her parents did.” I said as Trin showed her ID and we got our passes from security.

“Well, let’s just enjoy tonight and worry about everything else later,” Trin said as we headed inside to get ready for the show.

“You won’t hear no complaints from me,” I said happy we could just go enjoy the show. No more Roman, Tia, or Logan talk.

------

Monday Night Raw

Jey’s POV

Man, the crowd is on fire and rocking, but it’s only one face I’m looking for right now and I can’t find her. Finally, after Sami left the ring, I spotted Kara in the third row wearing my hoodie.

Trin was beside her in a ball cap and her reading glasses, I had to give it to them they blended in well with the crowd. I’m glad too because the last thing I wanted was someone to take pictures of them and posting it online.

I can see the headlines now “Roman Reigns ex-wife attends Raw with TNA superstar Trinity.”

Getting out of the ring I signaled for Kara to head backstage as she nodded and whispered to Trin.

Once I saw them grab their things, I slowly made my way up the ramp. Everything was finally sinking in as the crowd continued to sing my music and I wanted to take it all in.

Tonight is something I will never forget, giving them one final wave I went backstage into gorilla and was met with a round of applause.

“Welcome to Raw Uce!” Cody said giving me a hug.

“Thanks, man I’m glad to be here, Uce,” I said looking around for Kara but didn’t see her. Where are they? I know they had their passes.

“Hey, don’t freak out, they made it back. Kara just didn’t want people in ya’ll business. Go down the hall and make a right, she’s there waiting for you,” Cody said as I smiled.

“Aye, good lookin’ out Uce,” I said shaking his hand before going to find Kara.

 Rounding the corner, there she was leaning up against the wall with her hands in her pockets.

“How did I do?” I asked as she looked at me with a smile, running towards me and jumping in my arms as I held her close.

“Amazing, I’m so proud of you,” she whispered against my ear as I sighed holding her tighter.

“Thank you for ridin’ wit me and believin’ in me.”

“E le aunoa ma le faavavau” she said as felt my heart swell.

“Always and forever,” I said as she looked at me with a shy smile.

Our moment was short lived as I saw Jimmy and Trin heading towards us. “Aye, that was awesome Uce,” Jimmy said as put Kara down and Trin came over to give me a hug.

“Alright now brother-in-law. That’s what I’m talking about.”

“Thanks, sis,” I said watching Kara as Jimmy put his arm around her as she welcomed his embrace, leaning her head against him.

 Releasing Trin from my embrace I saw a look of confusion pass Kara’s face for a second before she tried to play it off.

I looked over my shoulder and there in the corner hiding behind the curtain was Tia.

She was watching Kara like a hawk, almost envious. Something was wrong. Something wasn’t clicking in Tia’s head.

“She just won’t get the hint, huh?” Jimmy asked as I shook my head signaling for him to shut up.

“Get the hint about what?” Kara asked as I lightly pushed Jimmy.

“I handled it, why you even had to bring it up,” I hissed as he shook his head.

“Look at that fool over there staring at us, does it look like she understood what you said,” Jimmy countered as I sighed.

“I handled it, Uce.”

“Uh, can somebody tell us what’s going on?” Trin asked as Kara looked at me.

“Look, Tia came on to me, I shut it down, we exchanged some words and that was it,” I said as Kara chuckled, shaking her head at Trin, who seemed nervous.

“Now, remember what we talked about earlier Kara,” Trin said as Kara looked at her with a smile.

“Oh, I remember, I’m just gon’ go holla at her for a minute…. Excuse me,” Kara said walking towards Tia who was smirking.

“Kara it ain’t worth it,” I said as she walked up to Tia. “Hey sis, long time no see, it’s been about what…Six months,” Tia said with a smile.

Kara’s POV

“Yea, it has, and I see your still up to the same bullshit,” I said wanting to smack the smirk off her face.

“What? I just offered Jey a good time, the road can be stressful, especially on the man. You know that better than anyone right?” Tia asked as I chuckled at her lame attempt to rile me up.

“You should know by now offering your services to taken men never works out in your favor though, does it? I mean you get so desperate you let men call you by their wives names while they fuck you.” I said not caring who knew at this point.

“Damn…You get down like that Tia?” Jimmy asked as Trin sighed. “Jurdy, I’ll fill you in later, be quiet," she whispered as Tia had the nerve to look embarrassed.

“He’ll come to me…They all come to-”

“Look, I’mma keep it short and sweet because I don’t have time for your games.”

“Oou lil sis is hot because she knows if I want Jey, I could take him.” Tia said as I chuckled as I felt Jey behind me.

 “Keep your distance, Tia,” I said as she rolled her eyes.

“Oh, please,” she muttered as I felt the urge to knock her ass out.

 “Tia! Come near him again, and that last ass whoopin’ I gave you will feel like a walk in the park…Try me.” I hissed as Jey gently grabbed my hand unclenching my fist.

“Kara, let’s go” Jey said as I refused to move. “I look forward to it,” Tia taunted as Jey shook his head trying to put a little distance between me and Tia.

“Man, gon’ wit dat bullshit, Tia. You done did enough now,” Jey said as I stepped into her space as she nervously bit her lip.

“I’mma stomp yo’ ass in the ground, keep coming at me like you crazy.”

“Aye, Tia, I know you a couple chocolate chips short of a cookie, but you better find you something safe to do. That ain’t the move baby girl,” Jimmy said as Tia growled.

“I hate you bitch!”

“Hate….Nah, you love me….Love me so much you wanna be me and apparently want every dick that’s ever been inside me too,” I said casually as Jey cleared his throat putting his arm around my waist trying to hold me back.

“Been inside you! Twin, you done hit the homie and ain’t said shit!” Jimmy exclaimed as Trin sighed.

 “Jurdy, read the room, keep up, and shut the hell up,” she said as Jimmy got quiet.

“You nasty bitch!” Tia shouted as I smirked at her. “Nah, that would be you and your sour-ass pussy,” I said, as Jey pulled me close steering me away from Tia.

“A’ight, let’s go ma. We need to talk,” Jey said as I looked back at Tia as a stagehand approached her.

“Tia, bossman wants to see you,” he said as Tia plastered on a smile following him.

“I’ll see you soon Jey,” she laughed as I tried to get out of Jey’s embrace.

“Fuckin’ parasite,” I hissed as Jey pulled me into his locker room, locking the door behind us.

“Are you done?” he asked as I rolled my eyes irritated as hell.

“No…..She always is up to something, I just don’t understand,” I said as Jey took off his black jacket, tossing it on the couch.

Damn, he looked fine as hell…Focus Kara, you're mad right now.

“Don’t let it bother you, the stuff she doin’, it don’t even matter.”

“What do you mean it don’t matter? “I asked as a look of determination adorned his handsome face as he slowly came towards me, almost like a lion stalking its prey.

“You ain’t slick, you know what you be doing wit ya chest and tattoos all out,” I said as he laughed. “I'm serious, you can stay over there, sir.”  His smile making it hard for me to stay angry.

“I ain’t doin’ nothing,” he whispered closing the distance between us as I tried to remain strong.

 “Yes, you are, Jey,” I whispered, feeling like my heart race as he caressed my face with his hands. Closing my eyes, I felt the tension leaving my body simply from his touch.

“I’mma need you to realize something important,” he said as I melted even further into his touch.

“What do I need to realize?” I asked, his lips dangerously close to mine. “I only want you; I’ve always only wanted you,” he whispered our lips meeting in a searing kiss.

It had been six months since the last time our lips touched and the

Feeling lightheaded I clung to him as our tongues fought for dominance, with Jey winning in the end as I whimpered in need.

He had me Feenin’ for more as we reluctantly parted to catch our breaths.

“Kara, you ain’t gotta worry about Tia, I ain’t Roman. I ain’t jeopardizing being with you for nobody,” Jey said reassuring me as I nodded.

I didn’t know how much I needed to hear that until now.

“Jey, I don’t want you to feel obligated to do all this. Visting me every week, being there-” I started as he cut me off with a gentle kiss.

“When you’re ready, I’m ready. I ain’t goin’ nowhere,” he whispered wiping my tears I didn’t even know had fallen.

“You ain’t gotta cry no more, I got you….Until my last breath, I got you.”

“I know,” I whispered leaning against his chest enjoying being wrapped up in his arms.

Damn her..Damn me for allowing Tia to rile me up. I was making strides, but everything still had me fucked up.

Damn Tia and Roman for that matter….

“Do you want to go out with us to eat?” Jey asked as I chuckled looking at him. “Nah, ya’ll can go eat, I got to finish an assignment. Someone had me chauffeuring them around this morning before daylight, even had to take them at a rental this afternoon,” I joked as he laughed.

“Aye, we said thank you. But real talk, tomorrow I wanna take you out and spend some time wit you before we leave out on Wednesday,” he said as I smiled, actually looking forward to it.

“I’mma hold you to that,” I whispered, ignoring my vibrating phone in my back pocket.

-----

Kara’s Condo

Roman’s POV

“Pick up the phone Kara,” I muttered dialing her once again as it goes to voicemail.

“It’s your girl Kara, I’m busy so leave your message at the beep and I’ll get back with you.”

“Kara, just please call me back..I..I need to see you.”

Ending the call, I dialed her right back but this time it went straight to voicemail.

“Did you just ignore my call? Are you with him?…..You are…. Your with Jey ain’t you? Is he kissin on you?......Is he holdin’ you like I used too, dickin’ you down like me. Hmm….Hmm…..Answer the damn phone Kara!” I yelled, hanging up trying to calm myself down.

I tried to wait, but she playin’…Pulling out my spare key to her condo I let myself in.

Did she know I had a key? No…. But that is beside the point.

I felt resentful as I took in how she had the house decorated so welcoming.

“My beautiful family tree,” I muttered reading the letters above the painted tree on the wall of the living room. Pictures of her parents, her brother, even pictures of her and Jey throughout the years. Hell, Jimmy and Trin made the family tree wall.

“I can’t believe this shit,” I hissed, walking into Kara’s bedroom, getting even more pissed seeing Jey’s bag beside her bed.

“In my fucking house,” I muttered looking around the room.

That live from Jey rattled me so much this morning, I charted my jet this evening and flew straight here.

He really been in here, layin’ in this bed with Kara…My Kara…. I don’t give a damn what no divorce papers say…She’s still mine.

I needed to know how deep this shit was getting between Kara and Jey and I needed to know now.

Fucking him one time to get back at me is one thing but actually being in a relationship with him is taking shit too far.

 Hearing the door open, I sat in the chair by the bed. I didn’t care who was with her, we were going to talk.

“I’m fine Jey, I just got inside,” she said as I snarled. “I’m going to shower and finish up my assignment. Just bring me back a fry and a ginger ale. I’m not that hungry, it’s late.”

“Really? Oh, he just Mr. perfect, huh. Doin’ late night ginger ale runs,” I seethed quietly hearing the happiness in Kara’s voice.

“Ok I’ll see ya’ll in a few,” she said, ending the call as I heard her moving around the hall.

“That man,” I heard her sigh as I felt the jealousy within me burning deep.

I had to stifle a groan as she opened the door and I saw she had taken off her shirt. “What tha shit!” Kara screamed, covering herself with her shirt as I stood up.

“Kara, where you been?” I asked as she looked at me in confusion. Almost like she thought she was hallucinating.

“What the hell are you doing in my house Roman?!” Kara yelled turning on the light.

“I wanted to see how your little visit with my cousin was goin’ but you ain’t answered my question. Where you been, because Raw ended about two hours ago?” I asked, walking towards Kara as she put her shirt back on.

“First of all, who da fuck do you think you are! We’re divorced, where I am and who I’m with is none of your damn concern. Now how did you get in here?!” Kara yelled pissed off as I scoffed.

“I had this made before the landlord gave you the keys. I mean did you really think, I was gon’ let you be out here and not check in on you.” I said as she reached for the keys, but I put it back in my pocket.

Kara’s POV

“This ain’t checkin’ in, this is stalking. You shouldn’t be here at all! Give me the keys Roman!” I yelled, still in shock I had found him in my bedroom, sitting in here like a fuckin’ serial killer.

“Have you slept with Jey since that night?” Roman asked as I looked at him like he was crazy.

“That is none of your business, give me the key, Roman!” I yelled as he ignored me.

“Not until you tell me, then I’ll give it to you.”

“Have you been drinking?” I asked, smelling the alcohol on his breath as he came a little closer.

“I ain’t drunk, I am in control Kara. I got this shit, I only had a brandy on the plane.”

“I can’t tell you flew from Pensacola to Boston to ask if I’m fucking your cousin,” I said as he rolled his eyes.

“Are you fuckin’ him, it’s a simple question?!” Roman yelled as I sighed rubbing my temples.

“Answer me, Kara.”

“Do you see a ring on my finger..No you don’t because I am single. You made sure I became single when you stuck your dick in my sister and got her pregnant!” I screamed as Roman came even closer.

“Are you fucking Jey? It’s either yes or no Kara.”

“It’s none of your business, just give me the keys and leave Roman.”

“Just answer the question, Kara!” Roman screamed as I looked at him like he was crazy.

“Roman, I’mma need you to calm do-”

“I have tried and tried to get back together wit you and this is the thanks I get!  You out here with him in MY HOUSE that I’M PAYIN’ for!” Roman ranted as something inside me flipped.

“It’s MY HOUSE and I don’t owe you shit! Get out!.....Now Roman!”

His arrogant stance as he refused to move pissed me off even more. He really thinks he can control me..

“I ain’t leavin’ till you answer me,” he said as I nodded in understanding.

“Ok, I see I’mma have to remind you with who you dealin’ wit,” I said leaving the room.

“Where you goin’ Kara, I aint done talkin’ to you,” Roman said walking behind me as I went into the kitchen.

“I told you to get out, but you trippin’. You trippin’ hard but let me help you out, let me get on your level,” I said reaching in the drawer pulling out my large chef’s knife as Roman growled in frustration, but backed up a little.

“Really, so you gon’ stab me Kara?” he asked as I pointed the knife in his direction.

“Roman I promise you, we gon’ be on an episode of The First 48 if you don’t leave the keys and get outta my damn house!” I screamed as he sighed, reaching in his pocket putting the keys on the counter.

“Kara, we need to talk about Je-”

“I don’t want to talk to you…I want you out!” I cried as Roman sighed, turning around to leave. A wave of relief washing over me as I heard the door close.

Trying to control my tears I tried to take a few deep breaths as I looked at the keys on the counter.

He really had keys made to my house and came in here trying to tell me what to do.

Another reason I didn’t want his money everyone was advising me to take. He thinks he owns me.

“Definitely getting the locks changed,” I whispered heading to lock the front door, stumbling back in shock seeing Roman with his hands up in the air being held at gunpoint by Tia.

“Oh, hey sis, come on in and join the party, I mean you are the guest of honor after all,” Tia said as Roman looked back at me. His remorseful gaze pierced my soul as she smiled, pointing the gun at me.

"Oh, my God."

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[ladykailitha]

Across a Crowded Room Part 5

Here we go! The last chapter of this short story that was only supposed to take a couple hours and be absolutely light and fluffy.

*checks notes* yeah this thing was none of that!

But I hope you like the ending!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

****

Eddie found a table quickly. That was the best part about going in the morning on a week day. While the colleges were out, the school age kids were still in class so the zoo was practically empty.

He pulled out his phone to check any messages he may have gotten, when his phone lit up with Nancy’s number.

He sighed, wondering if he should just let it go to voicemail, but he figured he might as well rip the bandaid off.

“Hello!” he said.

“Eddie!” Nancy said. It was clear she was already irritated. “Did you hear that Robin is staying with some stranger when she moves out to New York?”

Robin had in fact called him after she called Steve because she was avoiding calling Nancy.

“It would be no different if she was moving into the dorms,” Eddie reminded her. “The girl she’s staying with is the cousin of one of her friends so she’s not a total stranger. Plus they talked first to see if they could tolerate each other enough to be roommates.”

Nancy sighed. “It’s just I was really looking forward to having her on my couch, you know? After Jonathan left me, I really wanted the company.”

Eddie pinched the bridge of his nose. After Steve opened his eyes last night, he was starting to see a pattern to Nancy’s relationships. She was in a word, a serial monogamist.

“Yeah,” he said instead. “But it’s good she has a place to move to right off the bat so she isn’t living out of a suitcase, like she has been all this week.”

Another sigh. “You’re right, of course. I just worry about her. She’ll be on the other side of the city and we won’t be able to see each other that often.”

Eddie silently cheered. “That’s too bad. Look, I’ve got to go, Steve’s due back any second.”

“So how is Steve these days?” Nancy asked. “I heard he graduated from college.” But the way she said it, she made it sound like a fucking miracle.

Eddie chuckled. “Things are great! We went apartment hunting yesterday and decided to go to the zoo today.”

There was silence on the line for a beat too long before she said, “It’s good you two are reconnecting.”

“Oh there has been a lot of connecting all right,” Eddie said with a smirk. “With our hands, our mouths, our dic–”

“What?!” she shrieked. “You and Steve are dating?”

He puffed out his chest in pride. “Yeah. We finally got on the page on Monday after I got into Chicago. It’s been really great.”

“And you’re already moving into together, isn’t that fast?” she asked, her voice quivering.

Eddie looked up to Steve smiling down at him. “Look, he’s here. I’ve got to go.”

“Edd–”

Nancy didn’t get to finish his name because he had hung up on her.

Steve rolled the cooler over to the table and hefted it onto its surface. “Nancy I’m guessing.”

Eddie blinked at him for a moment. “How did you know that?”

“Robin called me,” he muttered. “Said she was really upset that Robin was moving in with Cassie–”

“Chrissy, love,” Eddie gently corrected.

Steve snapped his fingers. “That was it, yeah. Chrissy. Anyway, Robin said Nancy was upset that she wasn’t staying her because she wanted ‘girl bonding time’ or some shit.” He started unpacking their food. “Like Nancy didn’t recently come out as bi.”

Eddie sighed as he got to work, too pulling out the plates and utensils. “You said we shouldn’t call Nancy last night to blast her, so I called Jonathan. I wanted to know what he said about their break up.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm,” Eddie hummed. “He told her wanted couple’s counseling because he felt like the relationship had become more unbalanced lately and he wanted to make it work out.”

Steve opened their sides and sat down next to him. “I’m guessing that went over like a lead balloon.”

Eddie took a chip from the bag and munched. “Pretty much,” he said around the chip. “So he gave her the ultimatum and she chose to break up.”

“I give her three weeks before she goes running back to him.”

Eddie snorted. “I bet she thought with Robin coming up to New York she could scoop up a new girlfriend.”

“I wouldn’t put it past her.”

They settled into a comfortable silence as they ate their food. They cleaned up and walked back to the car.

“This was a fun idea,” Steve murmured. “Even if Nancy decided to call and put a damper things a bit.”

“Yeah,” Eddie said. “But I’m glad you had fun today.”

Steve chewed his bottom lip. “Would you like to go to dinner with me to that Italian restaurant I was telling you about yesterday morning?”

Eddie’s eyes lit up. “Like a proper date?”

“Yeah.”

“Hell yeah,” Eddie said, pumping his fist. “I’ll drop you off at your place so I can shower and change. And maybe tonight you could spend the night with me at the hotel?”

Steve grinned. “That sounds like great idea Eds. I’ll pack an overnight bag and bring it with me to dinner. Is that okay?”

Eddie pulled him in for a deep kiss. “I’m game.”

****

Steve showered and shaved. Whistling a happy tune, dancing to the song to the music in his head.

His phone rang and he walked over to the counter to see who it was. He rolled his eyes when he saw it was Nancy.

He sighed. It seemed that she had gone the rounds with Eddie and Robin and having gotten no where with them, decided to go to Steve.

“Hey.”

“Steve,” Nancy said, her voice clipped. “Eddie spends two days in your company and suddenly everything has changed. And certainly not for better. So I have to ask what the hell did you say to them?”

Steve threw his head back and laughed. “You’re afraid I told them the truth about us.”

“There is no truth, Steve,” Nancy hissed. “You believed one thing and I believed another.”

“You can keep telling yourself that,” he said. “And Eddie and I got together when he got into town. We were to meet up for drinks. Originally he was supposed to get in around three and meet us for drinks at seven, but because of a tropical storm, his flight was delayed three times. So he got in, came to the bar, and kissed the hell out of me. I had barely got a hello out before we were kissing. So I literally didn’t have time to tell him anything.”

He could feel her brooding on the other end of the phone. “And as for Robin, when we met up for dinner after a disastrous apartment hunting her and Eddie commiserated about having to find a place in a new city. I suppose she was still feeling that when she spent the night at Kendra’s and told her all about it.”

The brooding intensified.

“Is there anything else you would like to accuse me of or can I go on my date with Eddie now?”

“That’s all,” Nancy huffed. “It just seems so sudden.”

“Life is like that,” he agreed. “And oh, never call me again. I’m blocking this number.”

He hung up and proceeded to do just that. He felt lighter than he had in days.

He grabbed his stuff and left the apartment with a smile on his face.

****

Eddie tapped on the wheel as he waited for Steve to come down. He was glad that things had smoothed out after that disastrous second day in ole Windy City.

The zoo was just what they needed to take their minds off of things.

When Steve came thundering down the stairs, Eddie wolf whistled. Holy fuck.

Steve was wearing a grey vest over a light blue button up, first three buttons undone, sleeves rolled up, and messily tucked into the tightest blue jeans Eddie had ever seen.

In other words, Eddie was doomed. He would be writing songs about Steve’s ass in those jeans for years to come. The boys were going to murder him, but god it would be worth it.

Steve opened the door and slid into the passenger seat, throwing his pack onto the back seat.

“You ready to go, baby?” Eddie asked brightly.

“Yup!”

Dinner was amazing. The conversation flowed as easily as Steve’s wine. Since Eddie was driving, he only had one beer that he nursed throughout the meal.

When they got back to the hotel, Eddie was relentless in his pursuit of Steve’s pleasure. He loved mapping out every freckle, every mole. Finding out which parts made him moan and which ones made him giggle.

Finding out he was ticklish under his right knee was a revelation to Eddie, because Steve would scrunch up his nose when he giggled and god, did that melt Eddie’s heart.

Sex was less intense then their first time, but more enjoyable for it’s learning of each other’s bodies.

They cleaned themselves up and got ready for bed. Eddie licked his lips when he saw that Steve didn’t bring any pajamas.

“Is this how normally sleep or is this a show just for me?”

Steve looked down at the one scrape of clothing covering his body and shucked off his underwear. “I usually just wear briefs to bed because our apartment is awful. It’s freezing in the kitchen and front room, but ass hot in bedrooms.”

Eddie eyed Steve’s body as he thought about joining him in the naked sleeping thing. “Why don’t you go full frontal?”

Steve snorted. “Robin.”

Eddie’s eyes snapped up to Steve’s. “Oh. Right. Roommate who doesn’t like man bits, not wanting to see said man bits even accidentally. Got it.”

“And depending on my next place I might need to sleep with five layers and twelve blankets or nothing at all,” Steve said with a giggle.

“Can I vote for nothing at all?”

Steve laughed.

They crawled into bed. Eddie had chosen to at least put on pajama bottoms because he didn’t like the idea of having his balls touch those sheets.

Once they were cuddled up in bed Steve murmured, “Nancy called me right before you showed up.”

Eddie sighed. “Because of course she did. What did she want?”

“To blame me for you two turning on her,” he explained.

Eddie frowned and moved back enough to look Steve in the eye. “What? I don’t think Robin and I said anything to that affect.”

“Oh I know,” Steve agreed. “But she thinks I tricked you into dating me and conjured Chrissy from thin air all to ruin her life.”

Eddie snorted. “Once you told me about the cheating I told Uncle Wayne about it, and he said that there were a lot of things off about Nancy that he had noticed over the years and wondered why I hadn’t seen them, too.”

Steve let out a long sigh. “Because she didn’t want you to see them. I don’t blame you for it.”

Eddie kissed him. “Thank you for that. But anyway, the point is that once he said that, it was like someone had turned on the light and could see everything so much cleared and everything was only ever for her benefit, she was just really good at making you feel like it was for yours too.”

He pulled Steve in close. “But the blinders are off, babe. I’m one hundred percent yours.”

Steve smiled. “That’s all I could ever ask for.”

Eddie kissed him soundly and then they settled into sleep.

****

Steve rarely slept in, but sleeping in Eddie’s arms apparently made his internal clock line up with Eddie’s instead.

He woke up and groggily looked at the digital alarm clock on the bedside table and blinked at it. He wasn’t sure, but he could have sworn it said 10:54am.

That couldn’t be right. He picked up his phone and nope. Apparently that was the correct time.

Then he realized what had woke him. Eddie came out of the bathroom with a fond smile on his face.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” he greeted, bending down to kiss Steve on the lips. “I’ve ordered us some food, but alas it has to be lunch at this point.”

Steve chuckled and slid out of bed. “I blame you entirely for that, by the way. I never sleep in like that.”

“It’s good for you,” Eddie grinned. “Especially after the roller coaster of emotions that has been the last few days. Your body needed rest, so you got it.”

Steve nodded. “I figure we can go out today and look at more apartments, if you’re up to it.”

“Sure thing, babe.”

There was a knock on the door and Eddie went to go answer it as soon as Steve was in the bathroom.

Eddie tipped the guy and they settled down to eat their brunch, such as it was.

While they ate, Eddie and Steve pulled up several different apartments that could work for them with their budget and made a list of out of the links based on how close they were to Eddie’s hotel.

Steve showered and got dressed. He packed up his stuff and threw it in the back seat of Eddie’s rental.

The first one was a bust. Literally. A pipe had burst the night before and the owner had been working on getting it fixed, so he hadn’t updated the site. It wouldn’t be livable for two months. Well past when Steve or Eddie needed to be moved in by.

So they moved on.

Crumby landlords, obvious signs of pests, and high prices struck again.

They stopped for dinner.

“Fuck,” Eddie groused. “I’m going to be making a fair amount, but not enough for these prices.”

Steve nodded. “It’s why I was living with Robin. Everything is just too expensive these days.” He chewed on his lip for a moment.

“Move in with me!” he blurted.

Eddie looked up at him with wide eyes.

“What?”

“We both loved that third apartment we saw,” Steve explained. “It had two bedrooms and two full baths. It had a nice kitchen and was already wired for internet. Neither of us can afford it alone, but...”

Eddie gulped and pursed his lips. “And you’d want that, with me?”

Steve nodded.

“Yeah,” Eddie said with a fond smile. “Let’s do that, then. You can move in right away and get things set up and then when I move to Chicago at the end of the month, I can just slide right in.”

Steve kissed him fiercely and then called the landlord.

Two hours later they were the proud renters of a brand new shiny apartment.

A lot of their friends thought that they were moving a little too quickly getting an apartment together, but Eddie and Steve knew it was the start of something wonderful.

And really that was the best outcome either one of them could have hoped to dream for when they had made plans for Eddie to come out to Chicago.

Robin and Chrissy got along so well, that before classes even started in the fall, Robin had moved into Chrissy’s bedroom and they turned the second bedroom into a dance studio for Chrissy.

Nancy tried getting back with Jonathan a month later as Steve predicted, but he told her to get therapy and moved back to California to be with his mom, who had retired out there.

Steve didn’t know if she ever got the therapy she needed, but he hoped she did.

Eddie’s band was making lots of great progress on their album and the company was getting ready to release their first single. A little song about finding love right when you needed it most.

Steve had gotten a teaching position at a middle school as their basketball couch and US history teacher.

He was happy with the life he had, he didn’t need to worry about the life he’d lost when he broke up with Nancy all those years ago.

It was too soon to think about marriage, but Steve had a ring that he had bought years ago that he thought would look good on Eddie’s hand. But they had time.

And wasn’t that just amazing.

****

Tag List: @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

@spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie

@chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666

@goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

@justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690

@anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

@cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt

@useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

Shadows Entwined: Part 2

BatmanVsTmnt!Leonardo x sidekick!reader

Part 1 / Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Bonus (18+)

In which both Leo and reader get grilled by their families, because of the "pretty eyes".

Warnings: Spelling, loong.

The reader and the turtles are 19.

—--------------------------------------

“They call him… The Batman”, Donnie said, reading from his computer screen, causing Leo to break from his starting contest with the wall. He didn’t even remember how he got to staring at the wall. He remembers returning to the abandoned cafe with his brothers, after their meeting with this, Batman and… her. She had said his eyes were pretty. No way she actually meant it. Not with eyes like hers. They were… Leo did not know how to describe them… deep? Colorful? Lively? Filled with emotion-, oh this is how he ended up zoning out in the first place.

Leo was once again pulled out of his thoughts, as Raph started yelling about how stupid it was to use half an hour to google something he could have guessed in seconds.

“I’ve read rumors about a supernatural bat creature in Gotham, but I assumed that he was an urban legend, or that he was a mutant like us”, Donnie said deeply fascinated.

“That guy was definitely human”, Leo finally spoke. “And I think his super natural powers are just his gadgets. Anything about the girl?” Leo could see Raph facepalm out of the corner of his eye.

“Nothing”, Donnie said. “Only stuff about this Batman, or whatever he is”. Why did that pull down on Leo’s mood? No information about her at all?

“We already know what he is!” Mikey was practically dancing at the whiteboard. “He’s awesome!... Unless he’s a bad guy… That would make him… 40% less awesome”. Leo could already tell by the look on Raph’s face that he wanted to punch their little brother all the way back to New York.

“No one knows his motives, but it does appear that he only attacks criminals”, Donnie continued. “Especially this clown guy”.

“So he wears a Dracula costume and punches clowns. Who cares?!”, yelled Raph. “The dirtbag stole my sai!”

“Dracula costume? What kind of Dracula movies have you been watching?”, Donnie muttered.

“Is that why that girl hang around him?!”, Mikey yelled from his whiteboard, jumping with the same enthusiasm he had shown ever since they arrived in Gotham. “He has bitten her and now she is under his control? This city just gets better and better!”

“I don’t think so Mikey. She did say Leo had pretty eyes”, Donnie said. “Hypothetically, I don’t think a human under vampire control would say that. I actually don’t even think vampires in fiction can control people like that…”

Leo already hated this conversation.

“Look all I’m saying is Shredder stole the ooz from TCRI and came to Gotham, we know he’s been working with a new partner, right? It’s gotta be this bat creep and that Leo loving sidekick he has around”, Raph said, exasperated.

Leo remained unmoving with his arms crossed, but the mentioning of the girl made something move in his stomach.

“I’m not so sure”, Leo said. “The way they fought, avoiding lethal blows. They wanted to figure us out. Like a detective".

“She wanted to figure you out”, Raph mumbled, just loud enough for Leo to hear it. Leo would have spoken up, and Mikey not done it first.

“Okay bros. I broke it down”, he said, pointing to his drawings on the whiteboard. “Awesome: Little bat throwing things, cool car, sweet hat, Leo’s first girlfriend. Not awesome: Kicked our butts, may be evil, mean voice, Leo’s first heartbreak”.

“Either way”, Leo broke in, before giving his brothers any chance to add on to Mikey’s whiteboard Batman and sidekick breakdown. “After Wayne Enterprises, we have no idea where the Foot will be next. The Batman is our only lead”.

Donnie nodded. “Whether friend or foe, he and his sidekick was at the scene of the crime. And if you give me a minute, I think I’ve gotten an idea”.

---

“I was right outside!” you yelled like a spoiled child, waving your arms in the air, while Batman carefully looked at the magnifying glass in front of him, a sample he had taken from the sai laying in the little glass tray. “I did nothing but watch those metahumans kick Penguin’s butt! I could have helped you!”

“I did not need help”, Batman said, stoic as he always was when wearing that mask. “I had it under control”.

“That blood in your mouth said otherwise”, you sighed leaning against the deck next to you. This man was stubborn and you knew it. It was no use fighting him on his opinions, as it would be a losing battle for anyone except him.

You heard the familiar sound of a grappling against metal, and saw as Batgirl made her way out of the air vent.

“Heard on the scanner that the police took in some of Penguin’s men. Said they were jumped by four crazy frogs. I assume those were my lizard guys”, she said.

“Your lizard guys are strange”, you told Batgirl.

“They are turtles”, Batman said, pressing keys on the computer keyboard. “And the DNA on this weapon suggests they were mutated by an outside agent”.

“Mutant ninja turtles”. You raised a brow. “And me who thought Gotham couldn’t get any stranger”.

“The technology the ninjas have already stolen could be used to refine a mutagen like that”, Batgirl noted. “But why?”

“The cloud-seeder is the last piece of the puzzle. Which is why I had to move it to a secure location outside of Gotham”.

“I really wished you guys brought me in on this!”, Batgirl said. “I mean I saw the monsters first. It’s my case”.

“And pass up the opportunity to watch them swordfight Penguin later in the future? No way! I had front seat tickets!”

“There were too many unknowns. You could have gotten hurt. Both of you”. Batman turned his attention towards you. “You have to be more careful, (Y/N)”.

“What do you mean? I was beating that blue one pretty good”.

“Yet you didn’t notice the red one almost tapped you from the back”.

You felt a movement in your stomach and cold run down your back, yet your face started to feel hot. You did not notice at all. When would that have happened?... How long did you look into those blue eyes? Did the red one see an opening, only for Batman to save you, while you were being engulfed in a mutant turtle’s eyes, not noticing the world around you?

“N- no, I didn’t”.

“No, and you’ll have to work on that before I start calling you for backup”. Feedback from Batman always sounded harsh. And it did make you feel self conscious. But when it came to fighting alongside Batman, it was a matter of life and death. “In the meantime”, Batman continued, before you could dig too deep into your own feelings. “I’ll need to start working on a way to counteract the mutagen”. Batman stood for a moment. “And for that I could use both of your help”.

You could feel a big smile form on your face as Batgirl thanked the man you saw as your father figure. It wasn’t often that he actually asked for your help, or any help at all, making this a rare occasion, forever saved in your memory.

“All though”, Batgirl said as Batman looked closer at the sai he had gotten from the red turtle. “If those creatures left the Penguin's men tied up for the police, maybe I was wrong about them”.

“Maybe”, was all Batman had to say about that.

The drive back to the Batcave from Wayne Enterprise was silent. With you and Batgirl squished together in one seat, while Batman was driving the Batmobile. The silence that was so common when it came to Batman. It was a far cry from the Bruce Wayne that had taken you in as his own daughter. I was as if the moment he took the mask on, he became a different person. Not less loving than the Bruce Wayne you had given the title father, but less expressive and harder to read.

“Pretty eyes?”, Batman said, finally breaking the silence. Batgirl looked at you in confusion.

“It caught him off guard didn’t it? I’ll say it worked”, you said, playing with a smile on your lips. The bat stayed silent. You knew that silence. It was not an approving silence. You tried playing it off, talking about something else. “Did you notice how easily excited the orange one got? And how mad that red one was? They kind of remind me of Robin-”.

“Your brother is not comparable to a bunch of ninja turtles”.

“Well you might think that”, you mumbled, thinking of your pestilence of an adopted brother, that often caused chaos in your daily life, by sneaking around Wayne Manor. “He does look a little like them”.

Batgirl turned to Batman. “Care to explain?”

Batman sighed. “(H/N) and the blue mutant had a moment where she told him he had pretty eyes”.

“A moment?”, Batgirl asked, slightly shocked.

“A stare down”, you said, feeling your cheeks getting hot.

“A moment”, Batman corrected. “Even his attacks became softer after she told him”.

“No they didn’t!”

“They did. And so did yours”.

With your cheeks on fire, you crossed your arms and leaned back into the seat you shared with Batgirl. The amused smile she was trying to hide, made you wish the Batmobile would swallow you on the spot.

Why did that damn turtle have to have such pretty eyes?

[candycandy00]

Roses in the Sky - An Original Alien x Reader Story Part 8

In a future where humanity huddles in decaying domed cities controlled by alien invaders, you and your best friend Anna work as make-shift nurses in a tiny clinic run by the young doctor Terrian. The city is ruled by the aliens' violent, half-breed offspring who serve as brutal overseers. You and Anna have always tried to avoid these overseers at all cost, but your life is changed when one of those same terrifying offspring is brought into the clinic, injured and unconscious.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10

This is an original Alien (well half alien) x Fem Reader story! I hope everyone who enjoys my fanfiction will give this a shot! I’m posting the first chapter just to check for interest. Any feedback whatsoever would be loved! I’ve already written this story so it’s not going to delay my fanfics. Just thought I might post chapters of this between fanfics if anyone is interested.

Slow burn, as this is a novel-length story, but there will be smut in later chapters! Also: violence, blood, rape attempts, death of side characters, etc.

“Are you in love with Terrian?"

The words slipped out of your mouth carelessly, and you regretted asking the question the instant Anna looked up at you with a horrified, tear streaked face. The answer was right there, no words needed to convey it, and hearing it out loud only seemed to pain Anna more.

You sat down beside her. "You could've told me."

Anna stared toward the bottom of the stairs. "I didn't want to admit it. I don't think I even admitted it to myself until I saw him holding that half-breed's hand."

"Maybe they're not a couple," you offered. "Maybe he's just taking care of her. We don't know what their relationship is yet."

Anna put her face in her hands. "It's obvious! You saw the way he looked at her! She's beautiful and looks good in the outfits he likes and they've lived together for two years!"

You had no response to that. Terrian and Nariah had certainly looked like a happy couple. You sighed and threw an arm around Anna, feeling the other girl's body tremble as she cried.

Several minutes later, Anna stopped crying and dried her eyes. "Sorry," she said, still sniffling. "I know it's a stupid thing to cry over. But it just feels like half-breeds keep taking things away from me. They took my mom, and my brother, and my body. But for the past few years, I've been thinking, 'At least I have you and Terrian'. Now it's like you're turning to Vartan and Terrian has that... woman upstairs."

Your immediate reaction was to go on the defense, to loudly proclaim that you were not turning to Vartan, that there was no way Vartan would ever take you away from Anna, but stop stopped yourself before you could open your mouth. If you were honest with yourself, you would admit that you were being drawn more and more to the mysterious half-breed who slept on your couch.

"I'm sorry I made you feel that way," you finally said. "But I'll always be here for you, no matter what happens with Vartan. He can't replace you. No one can."

Anna's eyes were wet again, but she smiled. "I made the best decision of my life when I agreed to share that blanket with you on Second Street."

You laughed. "When I saw you, all I could think was, 'She's small, so there would be more blanket for me'."

"You were so devious back then!"

"Hey, it's how I survived,” you said with a shrug. 

Footsteps sounded from the stairs behind you, and you turned to watch Terrian approach with a worried expression. He looked at you and Anna, then lowered his head. "I'm really sorry. I shouldn't have kept Nariah from you. I just didn't want to worry you two. I promise I'll never keep secrets from you again, okay?"

You looked at Anna, who slowly nodded. You turned back to Terrian. "We forgive you."

Terrian exhaled, and you wondered if he'd been holding his breath since he came down stairs. He smiled weakly. "Thanks."

"But you don't seriously keep her up in that dusty room all day, do you?" you asked.

"No, no," he answered. "She has her own room down here but I moved her today because you girls were coming. I guess that plan didn't work though." He laughed nervously and looked at Anna, who wouldn't meet his eyes.

You gave him a look you hoped he would interpret as "Don't ask. Not now."

He must have gotten the message. He gave another weak smile and said, "You're free to leave for today. If you didn't get everything done, that's fine. Be sure to come back tomorrow, okay?"

He looked at Anna as he spoke the question, but she stood up without a word and walked down the stairs to the first floor. You heard one of the bedroom doors shut and figured Anna was changing out of the maid costume before heading home.

"She's still angry with me," Terrian said sadly.

"She'll get over it eventually," you assured him. "Just give her a little time."

"You're not angry with me, are you?"

You shrugged. "I have a half-breed at my place too. I can't really say much about it, can I?"

"Thanks," he told you again, and you nodded to him before heading down the stairs.

Anna was already gone when you finished changing, so you walked home alone. It was dusk, which meant the city was a gross color of orangey-maroon as you reached your apartment. You wondered if Vartan would still be sitting motionlessly on the couch, or if he'd even be there at all. You had no idea how long his exile from the tower would last, and he hadn't bothered to tell you. 

When you opened the door, you immediately scanned the room. You almost laughed when you realized that Vartan was indeed still sitting on your couch. You slipped off your shoes, dropped your duffel bag on the floor, and walked into the living room.

Upon closer inspection, you noticed that Vartan was asleep, slightly slumped over. You leaned down to look at him, thinking for the second time that he almost looked human while sleeping. He breathed the same as you did, his chest rising and falling slightly as his breaths made little wheezing sounds.

His eyes snapped open suddenly and you took a quick step back. "I'm home," you said, trying to start a conversation before he had time to question your closeness. "What did you do all day? Don't tell me you sat there staring at the wall."

He sat up straight and raised his arms above his head, stretching in a way that reminded you of a cat. He rubbed his eyes, one at a time, and looked at you. "I slept most of the day," he said. "I read your books as well."

You saw all five of your old trashy romance novels strewn across the couch beside him and blanched. They had belonged to your mother, and they were full of exactly the sort of scenes you really did not want a half-breed in your home thinking about. You gathered them up in your hands and said, "Where did you even find these?"

"They were on a shelf over there," he answered, pointing to a rickety book case that was completely empty.

You replaced them on the shelf and headed for the kitchen. "I guess you're hungry. I don't have much but I'll try to fix something."

A loud knock at the door startled you, and you looked swiftly to Vartan. "Hide!" you whispered, pointing to the darkened hall that led to your bedroom. He obeyed and slipped into the shadows as you walked over to the door. "Who is it?" you asked.

"My son is hurt," a male voice called back. "You're a nurse, right?"

You felt something stir in your heart. It had only been a day, but you realized at that moment that you truly missed being a nurse. "Well, sort of," you said through the door, "but all my supplies at are the doctor's house now. We had to close the clinic."

The voice on the other side hesitated for a moment, then said, "Can you at least look at him? He's bleeding."

You unlocked the door and began pulling it open. The door suddenly shoved against you hard enough to knock you down, and three men rushed into your apartment.

"Look for food and medicine first!" one of them shouted to the others, who split up and began digging through your refrigerator and drawers.

"Hey, stop it!" you yelled. "I told you I don't have any supplies here!"

The man in the kitchen was filling a plastic bag with fruit, butter, and everything else he could get his hands on. "You have plenty of food though!"

You ran over to him and tried to pull the bag from his hand. "Stop! Get out of here!" you screamed, jerking with all your strength until the bag split and the contents spilled out.

"Damn it!" the man said, shoving you away and stooping down to gather back up the food.

The man who had been giving orders made his way to the kitchen and grabbed you by the hair. "Shut up and back off, you little bitch, or I'll slit your throat!"

"Let me go!" you cried, trying to jerk free. The man released you, then immediately punched you in the stomach. You groaned and dropped to the floor, holding your sides. You looked up at the sneering man. "You're... making a big... mistake," you said.

The man laughed. "What are you gonna do? Report us to the half-breeds? Good luck with that!" He kicked you in the gut and laughed again while the other two continued grabbing your food.

You rolled over onto your stomach and tried to crawl to your feet, but one of the men kicked you again and you collapsed. You looked back to see which one had attacked you, but in that same instant a dark blur moved by you at such speed you could barely make out what it was.

Vartan now stood over you, facing the man behind you. Without a word he reached out and ripped the man's head right off his shoulders. Blood sprayed your apartment like a fire hydrant and you shrieked, more from surprise than horror.

The other two men, upon realizing just what had been hiding in your apartment, made a run for the door, but they didn't even make it out of the kitchen. Vartan swooped in like an angel of death, clad in black, ripping the burglars limb from bloody limb as you sat watching, frozen in shock.

The man who had initially punched you was the last to go, lying face up in a pool of his blood, both his arms torn off. Vartan lingered with him, bi-colored eyes narrowed into an expression you had never seen a half-breed wear, as if he had a personal vendetta against the man. He lifted the man up into the air and squeezed the man's neck until there was a terrible cracking sound. Vartan dropped the now limp body onto the floor and turned around.

You stared up at him blankly. He was covered in blood, like red brush strokes on white canvas. He was a ruthless angel of death, but somehow he had become your savior. "Are you alright?" he asked, holding out a hand to you. Even though it made no sense, even though it was totally crazy to even think it, you could've sworn right then that Vartan looked worried.

"I'm okay," you answered, taking his hand and standing up. You looked around the kitchen, suddenly more thankful than ever for your time at the clinic. You had seen so much blood and gore that it hardly fazed you any more.

"I am sorry," Vartan said in his usual monotone voice. "I have broken one of your rules. I will leave if you want."

You had nearly forgotten making the rule at all. He had agreed to punish no one while he was staying with you, but how could you enforce that rule when he had broken it only to save you?

"I don't want you to leave," you told him, surprised by your own frankness. "You protected me, so how can I blame you for that?"

He looked at you silently for a moment, and for the first time you were struck by a sudden desperation to know what he was thinking. If you asked, he probably would have told you, but you couldn't bring yourself to do it.

"I will clean up the mess I made then,” he said. 

You nodded and gathered up the food the men were trying to steal. Some of it was splattered with blood, but most of it was in plastic bags, safe from the bloodshed. You replaced what could still be used in the refrigerator and handed the now empty bags to Vartan, who began placing the various severed limbs in them.

The two of you cleaned the kitchen in silence, the only sounds coming from the squish of body parts being crammed into the bags or the squeak of a mop across the floor. You wondered if you should thank Vartan for what he did. How did things get this far? You had started out fearful of speaking to him, because he was a half-breed. Now you were afraid for entirely different reasons.

You felt like you were balancing on a wire, caught between being fascinated by him - strangely attracted to his otherness and grateful for his bizarre kindness - and being disgusted by his violence.

When they were finished, they took turns in the shower and met again in the kitchen. Vartan had a dark towel wrapped around his waist, apparently remembering the conversation that took place before you left for work. You threw his uniform into the washing machine and sat down at the table.

"Are you hungry?" you asked him casually, your own appetite completely dissolved from the moment Vartan ripped the first head off.

"Somewhat," he answered, his voice as even as ever.

"What do you like?"

"Meat. Cheese. Carrots. Oranges." He read them off like a grocery list.

You stood up and opened the fridge. "I have bologna."

"That will be fine," he said.

You pulled out the things you needed to make a sandwich and avoided his eyes while you fixed his food. He was watching you, staring at you with those alien eyes, yet somehow it felt... normal? Like he had been watching you for years? You shook your head and finished his sandwich, then sat down at the table beside him.

He ate the food, slowly but otherwise the same way anyone would eat. You remembered Terrian's words, that Nariah had become "so much more human than Pagoda". You wondered if you could ever say the same for Vartan.

"Hey," you said, and he stopped mid bite to look at you curiously. You hesitated for another moment, then smiled at him. "Thank you."

The corners of his mouth twitched, as if he reflexively wanted to return the smile, but his expression remained the same. "You're welcome," he replied.

Tag List:

@scrumptiouslampwobblercop

If you’d like to be tagged in future parts, let me know!

[atlafan]

1963 - Part 1

a/n: I have been dying to share this with yall and I'm so excited to finally be doing that. As per usual, this is the only part that will be posted here on Tumblr.All other parts will be posted on Patreon. In fact, Part 2 is already up! And Part 3 will be posted Friday.

Please consider joining my Patreon. It's only $5 a month, and it charges you the following month on the date you joined. So, if you signed up today, you wouldn't get charged again until January 10th. I post 2-4 times per month. If anything is under 10K words, that's usually when I'll post more. I depend on this extra income to help pay bills for essentials. The community there is also incredible and I write and post some of my nastiest smut on there, so if that's what you're looking for, you'll get it!

Warnings: mentions of infertility

Words: 3.8K

Patreon I Patreon Masterlist I Tumblr Masterlist I Ask

“Every month I keep hoping I’ll have different news for you two,” Doctor Simmons sighed, “unfortunately, I have the same news. Beverly still isn’t with child.”

“We’ve been trying for five months, we’ve been doing everything you’ve said. Beverly drinks the teas, she lays with her legs up after we’re done, I don’t know what else we can do.” Robert was exasperated at this point. He was squeezing his wife’s hand, desperately trying not to let any tears escape his eye ducts.

“You two have exhausted all natural remedies, so I think it’s time we consider IVF.”

Beverly’s eyes widened, and she squeezed Robert’s hand back. She looked at him, panicked.

“Beverly is terribly afraid of needles.”

“You don’t need to decide on anything right now. Take these pamphlets and look over the information. If you two want to have a baby of your own, then this may be the next step.”

“We’ll look it over and have an answer by our next appointment.”

Robert and Beverly are silent on the drive home from the doctor’s office. They’re silent on their way back into their home. Beverly goes right to the kitchen to get started on dinner. Robert comes up next to her and puts her hand over hers.

“We should read the literature on IVF.” He said.

“I have friends who have done it, and all it has done is make their hormones crazy, and not in a fun way. I really don’t want to, Robert. I’ve done everything else, please don’t make me do this.”

“It feels like sometimes I’m the only one who wants to have a baby.”

“How could you say something like that to me? If I’m infertile-“

“You’re not, though. Doctor Simmons has run every type of blood test on you.”

“I know, I was there when the nurse was drawing it after you accused me of secretly taking birth control pills.”

“Well, with how apprehensive you were about having your diaphragm removed, I had to make sure you weren’t doing any self-sabotage.”

“Maybe I’m not getting pregnant because my body knows you don’t trust me.”

“I do trust you, you just weren’t exactly thrilled to start trying.”

“You sprung it on me, I was surprised. We never really discussed having kids before we got married.”

“Sweetheart, why would two people get married if not to have kids?” He chuckled.

“That’s not why I married you. I married you because I love you and I want to be with you.”

“I love you and want to be with you too. But if I hadn’t wanted kids, we could have just shacked up in an apartment in the city. I bought us a house in the suburbs so you could keep house and raise our kids. You like being a housewife, you’ve told me as much.”

“I do. I like making your meals and keeping things tidy, but I also like my free time. I like to go have brunch with the other ladies, and I like going to the library to check out new film analysis journals, and I like being able to go to the movies in the middle of the day. Having a baby means I can’t do those things anymore. At least, not until it’s old enough to go to school. That’s five solid years I’d be putting on hold. And within that five years, I could have at least two more kids. So, now I’m thirty-one with three kids under the age of five, and oh yeah, I’ll still be expected to keep the house clean and cook all your meals and pleasure you even though everything between my legs will feel like sandpaper.”

Robert eyes his wife, then puckers his lips in thought. “Is that how you’ve really been feeling? You haven’t said a word.”

“I didn’t want to disappoint you. You’re not easy to talk to these days. Every time I reach for my clip-belt for my sanitary napkins, I can see you watching with such sadness in your eyes. Motherhood is scary. My friends tell me these horror stories about childbirth. Their husbands barely take a week off from work to be home with them and the baby. So, we’re expected to push these kids out, then get up the next day and get back to our usual routines.”

“Beverly, you’re worried about things women have been doing since the beginning of time. Don’t be such a child. The fear of needles I can understand, but the fear of being a mother makes no sense. I know you and your mother have a strained relationship, but that doesn’t mean history will repeat itself.” He placed his hands on her shoulders. “If we’re not pregnant by our next appointment with Doctor Simmons, then I would like us to start IVF. Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes, dear.”

“Good.” He looked at the ingredients on the counter and grimaced. “I don’t want meatloaf tonight, make something else instead.”

“Yes, dear.”

“I’m gonna go to my office, have a beer, and listen to the ball game. Let me know when dinner is on the table.”

“Yes, dear.”

Robert smiled, grabbed a beer out of the fridge, and walked out of the kitchen. Beverly took a deep breath and rummaged through her cabinets to see what else she could possibly whip up for dinner. It needs to be something heavy enough that Robert won’t feel like making love before bed. Beverly doesn’t have it in her to put on a performance tonight.

**

Most people get married to have kids. Beverly married Robert because she loved him. He wanted to take care of her. But when the honeymoon phase ended, and he stopped saying thank you to her for all of the things she did to take care of him, she grew resentful. She never let on about it. Robert didn’t need to know how she really felt. Opening up the way she did the day prior wasn’t normal. Things had been good between them for a long time. Beverly didn’t mind stepping into the role of a stay-at-home wife. She was college educated, but it wasn’t like she’d ever be able to carry a position in the profession of her desire. And since she didn’t want to be a schoolteacher or a nurse, Robert asked her to stay home to tend to the house he had bought for them.

At twenty-three, she really hadn’t minded. They met in college, as so many young couples do, and it was love at first sight. Their courtship was disgustingly romantic, and their wedding was a dream come true. The honeymoon phase was so sickly sweet. Beverly enjoyed making breakfast for Robert before he left for work. She enjoyed sending him on his way. She had the whole day to herself. She’d tend to her various gardens, and she’d make sure the house was clean. She’d meet up with friends for brunch. She did everything a good wife was supposed to do.

At twenty-six, Beverly feels like she’s on autopilot. She can’t help but wonder if the reason why older couples have designated sex nights is because the wives must need the six days in between to psych themselves up. She also can’t help but wonder if this is why so many older couples opt for twin beds that can be pushed together or pulled apart.

And it’s not that Beverly doesn’t want kids, she thinks it could be fun, but she’s petrified of essentially raising a child by herself. Robert will stroll in from work, bounce the baby on his knee for all of two minutes, and call it a night. She’s scared for all the reasons she tried to explain the day prior. Robert also didn’t give Beverly a choice five months ago…

“I was thinking of maybe enrolling in graduate school.” Beverly brought up one morning over breakfast. Robert had nearly choked on his toast. “I know what you’re thinking, but you wouldn’t have to pay for a thing. They have stipends for students. I could teach while I learn.”

“I thought you didn’t want to teach.”

“I didn’t want to teach children, but something about having high level discussions with college students makes teaching sound like fun. I miss being in school.”

“What’s the point of a graduate degree in film and media? It’s not like you can do anything with it.”

“A graduate degree could lead to a doctorate, and I could keep teaching. I know female professors are few and far between, especially in the world of film, but it is possible.”

“So, you want to be a career woman, is that what you’re saying?”

“Not exactly. Classes wouldn’t take up all my time. I’d still be able to cook and clean and do everything I’m doing now. Except now when I go to the library, I’ll be doing schoolwork instead of reading for leisure.”

“Seems like you have it all figured out already.”

“Well, I wanted to show you I had thought it all through, that I was serious. You got your graduate degree. If you hadn’t, we never would have met.”

“Exactly. What if some older professor comes on to you? You’d have no way to protect yourself.”

“Oh, Robert, I’ve gone this long without something horrible happening to me on a college campus, I think I’d be fine. Besides, all I’d need to do is show off the lovely rings on my finger.” She grinned. “No one would mess with a married woman whose husband can afford a diamond like this.”

“Did you already sign up for a course?”

“Of course not. I wanted to speak with you first.”

“Good.” He finished his breakfast. “Let me think on it.”

“Alright. Anything in particular you want for dinner tonight?”

“Actually, I was thinking we could go out tonight. I wanted to take you somewhere nice.”

“Oh? For what?”

“Does a husband need a reason to treat his wife to a romantic evening?”

“No.” She giggled. “I’m just excited at the prospect of a spontaneous date night. I’ll pick out a dress I haven’t worn in a while, so it feels like new.”

“I think that’s a great idea.” He stood and kissed the top of her head. “I’ll call you before I leave work, so you’ll know when to expect me.”

“Okay, have a good day, dear.”

Beverly was excited. A night out was a positive sign. Robert wouldn’t take her out just to give her bad news. He was going to say yes to her going back to school.

The restaurant Robert took Beverly to was ritzy. He danced with her, ordered an expensive bottle of wine, and kissed on her shoulder and neck while he sat next to her in their booth. That sickly sweet feeling Beverly thought might be gone was sparking again. When the cheesecake came out, they fed each other bites. It was adorable.

“Are you having a good time tonight?” He asked.

“Yes, this has been such a wonderful evening. Thank you for taking me here.”

“You’re welcome, Bev.” He put his hand over hers and gave it a squeeze. “I’ve been thinking about a lot of things lately, and our conversation this morning was the kick in the pants I needed, so I’m really glad you brought up graduate school.”

“I’m glad it was a positive conversation.” She smiled. “What’s been on your mind?”

“I think it’s time we started trying for a baby.” All of the color drained from Beverly’s face, but her smile never wavered. She couldn’t let on how disappointed she was. “You’re clearly bored with the amount of free time on your hands. I know school seemed like a fun thing to do to pass the time, but I think we’ve waited long enough. We’ll be married almost four years soon, I think we know what we’re doing in the bedroom by now. So, next week, I’m taking you to the doctor to have your diaphragm removed-“

“You called my doctor about something like that?”

“I know it’s a bit awkward, but it’s not a secret that you have one. I went with you when you got it, I should be with you when you have it taken out.”

“Robert…I don’t like that it feels like you’re not giving me a choice. What if I’m not ready?”

“It’s not that you don’t have a choice, I’m just stating that it’s time. You take care of me just fine, you’ll be a great mother. This is what I would rather you do than go back to school. Besides, think of the fun we’ll have while we’re working at it. I got excited at work today thinking about it. I was hoping tonight could be a test run.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “I love you so much, Bev, I wanna turn that love into a physical being.”

“Yeah, um, that makes perfect sense. Let’s…let’s make a baby.”

“Really?” He asked, elated.

“Yes, dear.”

Robert kissed his wife. He kissed her in the car. He kissed her on the way into their home, up the stairs, and into their bedroom. He made love to his wife, then called it a night.

After getting her diaphragm removed, they waited until after her next period was done to start trying. This gave Beverly plenty of time to figure out how she could avoid pregnancy. She needed to keep some semblance of control over her own body. Robert wasn’t going to tell her when she was ready. She could decide that on her own.

Lysol douching didn’t work, she knew this. Her sister told her as much. Some of her friends offered her their birth control pills, but she knew they’d show up on a blood test, which Robert made sure she had after the second month of her still not having gotten pregnant. Beverly may have studied film, but she was an excellent student in biology and chemistry as well. She knew how condoms worked. They were coated in spermicides. She just needed to figure out how to coat her vagina with it. She bought condoms and squeezed all of the lubricant and spermicide off them and got a good amount into a bottle. She mixed it with olive oil, what ancient Greeks used to use, and douched with that before having sex with Robert. She knew it would be a long shot if it worked, but she had to try.

When the third month came along, and she still wasn’t pregnant, she took solace is knowing her little concoction was working. And because Robert never went down on her, he’d never smell or taste a thing. When he used his fingers, he just thought she was extra wet, which made him feel proud of himself.

She was perfectly content with her plans until the topic of IVF came up. Even the harshest of solutions couldn’t stand up to IVF injections. She never felt bad for lying to Robert because she didn’t like that he had become so controlling, but she also didn’t think she’d be doing this for so long. The thought of her giving her body up didn’t sound any more appealing five months later.

What was she going to do?

**

“I really think that one is gonna be a winner.” Robert sighed happily as he relaxed into the bed, looking over at Beverly as she lay with her legs in the air. “I’m glad we waited a couple of days in between, feels like my boys swam stronger.”

“Yes, dear.” Beverly closed her eyes and tried to breathe steadily, counting down the minutes until she could go use the bathroom and cleanse herself.

“I had an idea today. I really want to spare you from having to be injected with needles. I’m a good husband, and good husbands protect their wives. So, since we have about five weeks until our next appointment, I thought we could try one last natural method.”

“I’m listening.” She turned her head to look at him, intrigued.

“I overheard some ladies talking in the break room this morning. It’s the one good thing about having so many female secretaries. Anyways, they happened to be discussing various issues with conceiving. One of them said they had a friend who got pregnant the second she and her husband stopped focusing so much on it. The wife threw herself into different projects, and a month or so later, she was pregnant.”

“Wait.” She sat up on her elbows. “Are you saying I can enroll in a graduate course after all?”

“What, no.” He laughed. “No, I was thinking we could finally redo the patio and have that pool you’ve wanted put in. You’ve been talking about wanting to host more parties for our friends. You always do so well with the workers when we have something done here, and you love gardening. I think you’d really enjoy overseeing a landscaping project.”

“Let me get this straight: you would rather pay thousands of dollars to have our backyard redone, than pay a couple of hundred for me to enroll in a course?”

“I think school would be too stressful. If you’re stressed, then you definitely won’t conceive. Overseeing a project that puts you outside in the sun will be a win-win. Not to mention an old friend of mine is willing to give us a deal on the work.”

“You have a friend that’s a landscaper?”

“Yeah, this guy from my old neighborhood took over his father’s business. He said he could swing by Saturday to take a look at things.”

“It sounds like you’ve already decided that this is what we’re doing.”

“That’s because I have.” He grinned proudly. “Bev, when we got married, I promised to take care of you. This is me taking care of you. Not all husbands would do something like this for their wives. You could at least pretend to be grateful.”

“I am grateful, I’m sorry if my tone suggested otherwise. What time Saturday is he coming over?”

“That I left up to you. I didn’t know if you had any errands or plans with the ladies.”

“Oh.” Well, at least he was trying to be considerate. “Maybe around three? That would give me time to pick up the dry cleaning and stop at the market.”

“Three is perfect. I’ll give him a call tomorrow to let him know.” He looked down at his watch. “You should be good to use the bathroom now.”

“Yes, dear.” Beverly lowers her legs and slings her robe on. Once she’s in the bathroom, she locks the door and flips on the fan. She rummages around in the back of the sink-cabinet until she finds her douching solution. She used some prior to having sex with her husband, but she likes to use it after for good measure. She bites into the heel of her palm as she cleanses herself. It tends to sting from time to time. When she’s done, she looks at herself in the mirror. She knows she can’t keep doing this to herself. She just doesn’t know what else to do.

**

Beverly loves her weekend clothes. There’s something so freeing about slipping on a pair of high-waist capris, a sleeveless button-up that ties in the front, and a pair of flats. She usually gardens after running her errands, and this is what she typically wears to garden. Robert hates it when Beverly wears pants, or anything form fitting, in public. Why should anyone else be privy to how round her bum is, or how full her thighs are? She’s got a body like Marilyn’s, and that’s something he prefers to keep under wraps.

When the landscaping van pulls up out front, Beverly is in the front yard, planting and mulching. She has the radio going, so she doesn’t pay any mind to the sound of an engine turning off. The man in the landscaping van tilted his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, getting a better glimpse of Beverly. Robert starts walking over, so the man gets out of his van, rounding it to meet his old friend.

“Harry.” Robert smiled and shook the man’s, Harry, hand. “Can you believe it? Got a nice house in a suburb just like the one we grew up in.”

“I never doubted you’d get everything you wanted.” Harry smiled back.

“Seems like the Navy treated you well.”

“Yeah, I can’t complain too much. I didn’t get blown up or lose a limb.”

“And now you own your father’s business. Sorry for your loss, by the way. That’s the drawback of inheritance.”

“Yep. You working for your father?”

“Yes, and proud of it. I’ve got an office with a view, and I can afford to live more than comfortably. Got a beautiful wife, too.” Robert looked around. “Beverly, c’mere!” Beverly stood and dusted off her trousers before making her way over to the two men. “Harry, this is my Beverly.” He put his arm around his wife’s shoulders.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Clark.”

“Likewise, Mr…”

“Styles.” He points behind him with his thumb. “Of Styles Landscaping.”

“Right, of course.”

“Your husband told me you were hoping to have some work done in the backyard.”

“Yes, we’d like the patio redone and to have a pool put in, if possible.”

“Let’s show Harry to the back.” Robert said as he led his wife to the back. Harry followed close behind.

As Beverly observes Harry observing her yard, she can’t help but feel confused. How is this man a friend of Robert’s? Harry’s t-shirt is stretched tight over his chest, not to mention how beefy and muscular his biceps are. His arms are also littered with tattoos.

It takes about twenty minutes for Harry to look around, take some measurements, and get a feel for the land.

“Alright, I can come back on Tuesday with some different mockups of what can be done back here. I can bring my portfolio too, so you can look at some of my past projects. Does Tuesday work for you, Mrs. Clark? I’m assuming you’ll be the one home.”

“Yes, the early afternoon works for me, Mr. Styles.”

“Perfect.” Robert clapped his hands. “H, come in for a bit. We can have a couple beers and catch up while Bev does her gardening out front.”

“Sounds good to me.” Harry nodded, and Robert started to make his way inside. For a split second, Harry tilted his sunglasses down to look at Beverly. “It was nice meeting, Mrs. Clark.” He winked and smirked before catching up with Robert.

Beverly felt her cheeks heat up. She turned and watched Harry walk into her home. Why did he wink at her like that? And why did it make her feel like she just got a B-12 shot?

She shook it off and made her way out front. Gardening will help her clear her head. She’s a married woman. A friend of Robert’s wouldn’t flirt with a married woman…would he?

[mischieffoal]

Kugrash; Rat Jesus; Bruce Kugrich; you know him, you love him - is a repressed, closeted, gay man. In this essay I will… tell you why I think that, I actually wrote the essay. (It’s not an essay it’s a long text post, it doesn’t have an introduction or a conclusion or citations don’t come for me)

Anyway, I’ve just finished The Unsleeping City chapters 1 and 2 and Kugrash has infested my brain and wormed his slimy way around my heart. I don’t need to proselytise him, if you’re reading this post you already understand the appeal of a crusty, washed-up rat bastard of a terrible father who’s trying to make up for everything he’s ever done. What I particularly loved about him was that he is gay-coded in such a specific way that it makes the poor little meow meow of it all even worse. Was it on purpose? I doubt it. But it certainly is there. 

(I doubt it was on purpose because the joy of D20 is that all the characters are kind of just pan unless specified otherwise and homophobia is only a thing that villains do in the first five minutes of a character’s introduction. So it’s like, I doubt Murph did this on purpose because he’s probably just being very queer friendly and it comes across this way because of the Kugrash of it all)

Evidence that I remembered to write down is as follows: 

Perry the Pigeon

Kug doesn’t actually want to date Perry, but he doesn't object to going to the wedding with him/sort of leads him on/definitely flirts with him/tries to let him down nicely. 

Murph did just choose the name Perry at random. Could have been a girl pigeon, but no. 

Perry is serious about Kugrash. Like, “still mourning him” serious. 

Perry isn’t only into Kug, he is an established gay pigeon who later marries another man (/rabbit)

2. The Kugriches

When the other PCs tell Wally there’s a pigeon with a crush on his dad, Wally immediately asks “What’s his name?”

Wally and David’s mum is out of the picture. David said that Bruce abandoned them when Wally really needed him, which I think implies she’s been gone since before Kugrash was cursed. Why? Who knows, Bruce was a bastard in many ways - but if his sexuality was so obvious that their son can only imagine his dad dating a male pigeon, it was probably obvious to Bruce’s ex. 

3. Lowell Masters

Kingston: finds out Lowell can Identify things by sticking them up his ass Kingston, two seconds later, pointing at his good friend Kugrash: “This man, what is this man?" Lowell: gives Kugrash an ass jacket Kugrash: “Yeah, yeah, sure thanks, appreciate it.”  Kugrash: “I smell like lube now instead of trash.” Kugrash: “We’ll link up at some point”

4. The totems

All men. When the Intrepid Heroes came up with what their totem animals would be in an Adventuring Party, they weren’t particularly gendered, but weren’t sentient either, so who knows what that’s worth

Perry (see Point 1)

The campest unicorn you’ve ever seen or heard in your life

5. Best friends with a hairdresser

6. “You goddamn beautiful boy, you fucker, you absolute arsehole.” I get it, Kug. Ricky does it to us all. 

To me, all of this implies Kugrash is gay, but quietly. He’s certainly not out-and-proud like Pete is, but his children know. Did he tell them or was it obvious? I don’t think Kugrash knows. I think he’s closeted to no-one but himself. A business man in the 1980s isn’t the most likely guy to have searched his soul for any sexual deviancy, and since then he’s been very busy being depressed/ashamed/a literal rat in the sewers. Misty and Kingston do a lot of work to pull him out of the underground and actually talk to human beings again. They know he’s gay, from the things they say about him (see in particular Point 3: Lowell Masters). I don’t think Kugrash would have ever had a “gay awakening” or a “gay panic” if he’d stayed on the mortal plane, I doubt his sexuality would be that shocking or confusing - I just don’t think he’s noticed. 

Being cursed into a ratman gives you the space to learn all sorts of things about yourself, and if that doesn’t quite work, you can always eat an everything bagel and become omniscient, when you can finally realise that Bruce Kugrich was in fact gay the whole time.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk. 

[greatyme]

i'd be interested in your recent movie list - it's nice to hear what people are watching 🥰

OOOHHH thank you for asking!!! This gives me the perfect excuse 2 talk abt some of my favs ty hehe <3 The genres, years, countries, etc. might be wildly different and there’s no particular order to what I’m gonna list but here we go:

1. The Spook Who Sat by the Door

Ivan Dixon; action/political drama; America; 1973

EVERYONE needs to watch this honestly… it’s probably my favorite film I’ve seen this year. The movie’s about the first Black man, Dan Freeman, to be trained by the CIA, who then quits and takes the techniques he’s learned to create a team of Black youths to fight for freedom and against racism. Even though it’s a fictional plot, the real FBI pulled it from theaters for being too radical, and it has indeed been described as “the only true Black radical movie ever made.” I seriously can’t recommend it enough

2. Medicine for Melancholy

Barry Jenkins; romance/drama; America; 2008

If you’re familiar with Moonlight, you already know this filmmaker. Medicine for Melancholy is Barry Jenkins’ first film, about the romance between Jo and Micah after a one night stand that takes place in San Francisco. Some things I like about it are the ways the city and its racial issues so heavily influence the characters’ relationship so much so that it essentially becomes a character in itself. Since this is Jenkins’ first film, the budget was smaller ($15k) and it has a different feel from his newer movies which I personally really liked

3. They Cloned Tyrone

Juel Taylor; sci-fi/mystery; America; 2023

This movie was released on barbenheimer day and was WAY BETTER THAN BOTH OF THEM!!!! When Fontaine, a drug dealer played by John Boyega, seemingly gets shot and killed, Slick, a pimp, is shocked to see him walking around the next day as if nothing happened. Together, Slick, Fontaine, and Yo-Yo, a sex worker, work to uncover what actually happened and find that it’s much bigger than they could’ve imagined. This is a FANTASTIC sci-fi film with some fantastic writing (a lot of great one-liners lmao) and all the actors do amazingly. Also, the title goes hard!

4. Bad Genius

Baz Nattuwat; thriller; Thailand; 2017

I literally watched this last night (happy birthday Nonkul!) lol. In this movie the character Lynn gets paid to work with her friends to help other high school students cheat on tests. When I tell you this had me SWEATING from stress. It was very entertaining, I really liked the way it was shot and how it consistently kept the tension up

5. Do the Right Thing

Spike Lee; drama/comedy; America; 1989

Taking place on an unbearably hot summer day, racial tensions rise between the Black civilians and the Italian owners of a pizzeria in Brooklyn. This is a v famous movie, directed by Spike Lee, and honestly many of the themes still ring true today

6. Sorry to Bother You

Boots Riley; sci-fi/comedy; America; 2018

Set in the Oakland, Cassius Green becomes a telemarketer and uses a “white voice” to do better at his job. But when his coworkers form a union, he decides to take a promotion instead, leading to unexpected consequences. I don’t want to spoil anything, and this is another famous movie that many people have probably already seen and have probably been spoiled BUT. there is a crazy twist. I really enjoyed the messages and craziness this movie had to offer

7. Marry My Dead Body

Cheng Wei Hao; comedy/mystery; Taiwan; 2022

I saw this with my friend on my birthday and honestly it could not have been a better way to watch it. A homophobic cop accidentally gets into an arranged marriage with a dead gay ghost. Is that not one of the best plot descriptions u have ever heard. It’s horror, it’s comedy, it’s gay, it’s a romance (TO ME! And like everyone else who watched it)… WHAT MORE COULD U WANT!! It gave me a similar feeling as Secrets in the Hot Spring & Pee Mak, two movies that somehow seem to cover So Many Genres & that I love sooo much (the former is my fav movie ever). I literally laughed so hard I almost peed myself at times <3

Other than that some other movies I watched & enjoyed this year are: Love Lies Bleeding (2024), Claudine (1974), Eve’s Bayou (1997), and Bottoms (2023). I don’t wanna make this too long so I’ll stop it here but I hope you enjoy these films too if you decide to watch any!!

[folklorebae]

𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐔 - 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝟏

Cast(s): Teacher!Reader & Geto Suguru

Warning(s): Swearing, ooc (?), kinda suggestive, food, “mommy” and “woman” are used to refer to the reader, taylor swift stan reader (self-indulgent, ik), girls in pics only for references

A/n: I also wrote a short narrative before the 26th pic to make it less rushed than it already is lol (but you can skip it if you want).

1. What’s on Twitter?

2. Midnight Texts

3. Ms. Sorcerer and The Heartbreak Princess

4. Miscommunications Leads to Fall Out

5. If You Would've Been The one

6. SOS

7. Thanks Girls

8. Shuuut Uppp

9. Bad Idea Right?

10. Try To Fix It

How could you not get overwhelmed? Take a walk in a city that screams his name, and no amount of prayers could make you forget memories you’ve made with him here.

Cold hand holding yours, as not quite friends but not quite lovers. Pair eyes of strangers would’ve guessed you two are lovers who just got pierced by Cupid's arrow.

You breath as you wonder to yourself, if one thing had been different, would everything be different today? Will strangers' guesses about you two being lovers be correct? Will you love the universe where you and him wouldn't be two worlds apart?

“I’ve heard everything from Shoko.” Geto speaks, breaking your reverie.

You relieve a sigh, knowing where this conversation will go. “Oh, I see—”

“I’m sorry, it was my fault. You shouldn’t want to see my face again.”

You scoff, shaking your head. “Why should I? You want me to keep the anger in my heart for something that happened ten years ago?”

Geto chuckles, nodding. “If I were you? maybe.”

You playfully roll your eyes, maybe he’s right but you weren’t born to hate Geto Suguru. “Thinking about it again, I knew you weren’t in a good place at that time. I’m sorry I left you like you weren’t someone special.”

You may never know, but Geto could feel his heart stop for a second before it wildly pounds in his chest. If God gives him another chance, he swears he will love you right this time. But if God forbid, he understands. “And I let you go like you weren’t someone special either. I’m sorry too.”

A teardrop would almost fall from your eye if you didn't look up at the dark sky, pretending to admire it. But in the end, you just wish someone taught you what to do when a good man puts an ache in your heart and you do the same to him. “I miss you too much to be mad anymore, Suguru.”

11. So Can We Do It All Over Again?

12. The End

[marthawrites]

The Arbor and the Dragon: Chapter 4, Moonlight

Aemond Targaryen x Redwyne fem reader

Word count: 6.8k+

About: Tension around the Red Keep grows. Rumors begin spreading about yours and Aemond's time spent together. Jane, your best friend and lady-in-waiting, reminds you of your favorite summer festival back home. You write Aemond a letter in secret and request his company at the beach. Emotions are high and promises are made.

Includes: Tension, some mild angst, hurt, comfort, and fluff. Reader (named Emeline) has body image issues due to a slight deformity.

Note: Hello lovely reader! I hope I haven't lost you on this story ♥ I deeply apologize for keeping you waiting for literal months for this chapter. The beach scene in this chapter has been living in my heart and mind for a solid month or even two! I've been greedy with it, and it's finally time to share it. It's inspired by a cut-scene in a video game and if you get the reference please let me know because I will fall in love! As always, I hope that you enjoy it! I plan on having chapter 5 ready to share much sooner than this one was (3 flippin mo rofl) ♥

Catch up on earlier chapters with the series masterlist

-

"Are you taking Lady Redwyne to the Sept this morning?" Alicent asked her son as he sat across the table from her. On any other occasion the Queen Mother's question could be received as harmless. A simple inquiry. Naught more than curiosity for her soon to be daughter-in-law's goodness. 

Aemond knew his mother better. His fork clinked on the silver plate as he dragged a chunk of sausage through syrup. A childhood favorite. Only his mother would indulge him in such a treat if she meant to soften him up.

Or, perhaps, she merely missed her son. They'd hardly seen each other as of late.

The curtains of her room were drawn open, as were the windows, and summer's morning breeze rolled over King's Landing from the ocean. "Yes, mother, I've already said that," Aemond answered as he ate the bite from his fork. No one else joined them for the day's breaking fast; not even a servant. Fruit, still warm bread, and bacon accompanied the spiced sausage on polished platters. The small table lent them a feeling of intimacy even their seclusion couldn't. "Would you care to join us?"

Alicent too dragged a bite of sausage through syrup; the source of Aemond's guilty pleasure. "Not this time, no," she answered around a mouthful. If she were dining with anyone else she wouldn't respond in such a way, but with her son she paid it no mind.

Aemond hummed thoughtfully beneath his breath and continued eating. Tension slowly knotted between his shoulders at the heavy silence.

"I worry about you and Lady Redwyne, Aemond.” There it was. The reason for their unspecified meeting. The softness of her lovely eyes, so unlike the rare hue of her son’s, betrayed the practiced hardness of her mouth. With a tilt of her head she regarded him a little closer in a way only a mother could. 

Truthfully, the young prince found little pleasure in eating and ate almost solely for the purpose of nourishment. Leave it to his own mother to serve him one of the few things he actually enjoyed only to bring up this topic. Again. “We are to wed in less than a week. What is there to worry about?” He asked, appetite gone.

“You know of what I speak,” she answered curtly, eyes fluttering in such a way Aemond knew she might as well have rolled them. “Now is not the time to fall behind on your duties. You two spend countless hours together. Alone, too, no doubt. On dragon back to who knows where, unchecked around the city, amidst the dragon pit. I’ve said it multiple times: you two are not to be alone together.”

“She is a respite from the daily burden of princeliness and unwavering duties,” he replied, features defensive. Alicent read the subtle shift of his neck and shoulders as if he'd turned the table over in a rush of rage.

“It is unbecoming of you and Lady Redwyne to be practicing what you’re doing. Suspicion of your activities is high. We – I – cannot allow a foreign girl to put you so under her spell that you forget about this war. Depravity doesn’t look good on you. Nor does it serve any sort of purpose.” Heat bloomed across the tops of Alicent’s ears. The grip she had on her silverware made her knuckles turn white. Her jaw jutted authoritatively.

Aemond’s jaw clenched. He loved his mother. He respected his mother. The things he wanted to say would poison both of those things. Instead, he glared across at her and a breath chuffed from his nose.

“The Sept will do you both good today. Ser Arryk will accompany you. Stay and pray as long as you and Lady Redwyne both require. I’m sure it is needed more than I know.” Her voice was even again. Stern.

The prince stood, eye never leaving his mother. “It is good to know you pay heed to my daily activities while actively disregarding Aegon’s lechery and debauchery. If the tables were turned, would you still?” In long strides he stepped to the door. Turning his head over his shoulder he saw her attention following him. “Now that I see where your priorities lie this morning–” he paused with a scoff, “–you might be lightened to know Lady Redwyne is much more than her father's fleet to me, now. You needn't worry over it any longer. Aegon will have it.” He exited, closing the door with deliberate finality.

Duty. Love. Aemond Targaryen treaded a fine line.

-

Your personal guardsman, Louis, practically vibrated out of his armor in protest of being denied accompanying you with Aemond to the Sept. Growing up with a strict father garnered you the hard learned skill of little mice feet. Subtly was one of your stronger suits, and even Louis, despite your complete trust in him and his skill as a well-trained guardsman, couldn't keep up with you at all times. And, thus, you and Aemond were able to sneak away unbothered on more than one occasion. 

And today? Well, Louis simply had to listen to your hard, and unwavering, no. Your father could punish you for it later for all you cared. Time with your soon to be husband was worth it.

Excitement rushed up and down your spine as you saw Aemond make his way to you at the agreed location. You bounced on the balls of your feet eagerly. Clasping your House's grape cluster signet at the center of your mantle accented the low neckline of your dress; perhaps the lowest cut you'd worn in the prince's company. It was sleeveless in the fashion of your home too, and the gossamer cloak offered you a shield of modesty. 

You saw a tightening of Aemond's jaw, as well as a stiffness in his back and shoulders, which immediately dampened your excitement. Had you done something wrong? Did he disapprove of your lovely summer gown? Perhaps it was the fashion of your braid – would it offend the other ladies in court with its, potentially, outdated style? Your mouth dried before you even opened it to speak. 

He stood in front of you and offered a formal bow, ending with a chaste kiss to the top of your hand. "Good morning, my Lady Redwyne. I don't believe you've officially met Ser Arryk. As per my mother's request, he will be joining us today in journey to the Sept." He spoke evenly. Practiced and courtly. The darkened pupil at the center of his eye, and the way it lingered on the opened expanse of your chest, however, spoke much more passionately.

Your gaze flickered between both men, Ser Arryk standing a few paces back for privacy, and you tried to control your breath. "He must be quite a warrior to be the one protecting you, my prince," you said smoothly before smiling at the knight. 

He simply nodded and bowed his head in a show of respect.

"Hm," Aemond hummed shortly. He hadn't loosened at all yet, and if anything he looked even more tense. His hand at the small of your back splayed wider than you'd felt it before, and his fingers curling into your waist gripped firmly.

Oh. Was this… jealousy? Something primal in the ancient part of his brain that made him need to show you as his? Most of your time spent together had been alone: now, another layer to the Targaryen prince to witness.

The carriage ride was silent. Aemond's hand, warm and wide and possessive, stayed glued to the top of your thigh the whole way.

It was only at the great doors of the Sept that Ser Arryk finally spoke. "Pray in peace, my prince. I will be standing guard here at the door. If you need me, you know where I'll be," he bowed politely and turned forward once again, eyes keen and observant on the bustle of the square ahead.

While Aemond acknowledged Arryk, he barely gave the other man more than a simple "hmm," in reply. 

"What's the matter, my prince?" Inside, your voice seemed too loud for the incense laden air. There must have been hundreds of candles lit and their smoke made the air heavier than it already was.

Beautiful high windows of stained glass dominated the walls, and geometrical patterns of the overhead framework added to the ornate sanctuary. Outside the sun shone brightly, and when the sky’s fluffy clouds moved away from in front of it, rainbows of light reflected on various swaths of floor, wall, and statue alike. While inspired by religion, you’d never been heavily religious. Here, now, however, you realized why so many people lead a holy life.

Civilians gathered in intimate groups for prayer around the varying altars, and the Sept’s holy brothers and holy sisters wandered throughout the place. One thing you noticed was how many averted their gaze from Aemond. Some even turned on their heel in the opposite direction to, seemingly, avoid getting close to him. Despite his lineage, even the holy brothers and holy sisters regarded him with little formality.

Aemond One-Eye. The cruel prince. Black hearted. Kinslayer. Here, in this holiest of places, there was hardly anything more accursed than a kinslayer. And you, the fair foreign girl from far away in the Reach, his betrothed. The smallfolk knew little of you and likely trusted you less. Being on the arm of the Targaryen Prince brought more side-eyes than respectful greetings. 

Tucked away inside the Red Keep with your wedding plans, lady’s gossip, and noble mingling sometimes made it easy to forget that a war was simmering. 

Aemond’s stiff shoulders and silence had spread to you.

What a strange turn of morning. In all your time spent together it had never been quite like this. Even your first meeting didn’t carry the same tension that hung in the air between you now. Before you knew it, you found yourself fiddling with the silken material of your dress. A nervous habit you had as long as you could remember.

Finally, while standing in front of the Father, Aemond turned to you and said, “normally I come here with mother, Aegon, and Helaena.” A long breath exhaled from his nose as he tipped the flickering flame of a candle to the wick of another, lighting it. “Mother summoned me to join her alone in breaking fast. I thought it kind, at first. Sweet even,” he chuffed, a disapproving tug pulling down one side of his mouth. “You are spoiling me with yours so I forget it’s not freely given. How silly of me.” His single lilac eye rested on your doe-brown gaze, your lovely dark pools looking up at him softly, questioningly. Attentively. 

You extended your hand out to his and held it gently. “Aemond…,” you started, peering up at him with all the gentleness you could muster. “I’m sure your mother didn’t mean to come across the way she did.” You squeezed and stepped closer into him, uncaring of how it might look to any nosey onlookers. In your experience even the most religious folks could be the most nosey. In the high morning light, with rainbows illuminating the cloud of heady smoke, the lines of your bodies meshed into one as you kissed the prince’s cheek. 

A smile graced his features and it was the first you’d seen all day. “Let us pray to the Father. May he judge those who seek him for strength and wisdom. May they be wise enough to see what their judgment clouds.”

Kneeling, then, you finally released his hand and began praying in silence. He knelt beside you, too, and you’d be lying if you said prayer had your full attention. Aemond’s lips moved silently and you wondered what he might be praying – they were so handsome, his lips, and you desperately wanted to wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him to blushing pinks right here in the middle of the Sept. Each time you peered across at him beneath the protection of your eyelashes you had to force yourself to close your eyes and focus. With his hands clasped, head bowed, and eye closed, he looked ethereal. He was ethereal. They said Targaryens were closer to Gods than men, and the more time you spent with your betrothed, as well as his siblings, the more you came to realize it. Silvery, and pale, with features not quite like anyone else, they truly were lovely and unique. Perhaps one day Aemond would give you one of your own. A tiny white haired dragon with ten tiny fingers and ten tiny toes. You smiled in mid-prayer and allowed your mind to wander. When it came time to visit the Maiden’s altar, you could ask for her forgiveness in regard to the impure thoughts that ran rampant in your mind. 

After visiting and praying at the altars for the Mother, Warrior, Smith, Maiden, Crone, and Stranger, and after many stolen touches and lingering gazes, you two finally exited the Sept with Arryk close behind. The carriage ride back was lighter than the first. You crossed a leg over the other so it pointed in Aemond’s direction, and behind the little shield of your knee his larger palm rested atop yours.

Upon returning to the Red Keep Aemond was almost immediately swept away by a list of duties and “royal chores” – whatever that meant – that he’d fallen behind on since spending more time with you in the Sept than was expected. You were beginning to read him better and better all the time. While others might not take note of it (sternness and practiced neutrality a theme for the young prince) you saw the bristle of annoyance along his edges as Otto took him away. You barely had time to say goodbye. Walking alongside his grandfather, Aemond turned his head over his shoulder one last time and offered you a small, barely there smile and tilt of his head. Your own lips pressed into a restrained grin as you offered a wave just as small. You hoped he’d at least be able to have dinner with you tonight. Until then, there were many wedding plans and gossip for you to busy yourself with. 

During the evening’s meal you were distracted and hungry. “If you could summon him by staring at the door he’d already be here, my lady,” Jane whispered to you sympathetically. “Let’s try to at least enjoy the wine, yes?" She served herself a plate and helped you with yours. "Ah… it reminds me of back home. We’d be getting ready for the dance of the moonlight jellies! It’s tomorrow night! I hate to miss it. This will be the first one I’ve ever missed.” Her expression changed from melancholy, to excitement, to pouting, and you followed right along with her. She tried to soften her pout with a little smile.

“Ah! Gods we would be, huh? Oh, I can’t believe it. This will be the first one I’ve ever missed too. Such a pity. It’s always been my favorite event of the summers.” Your gaze went distant for a moment, fingertip gently circling the rim of your goblet. So far there definitely hadn’t been any sign of Aemond. Nor Aegon or Otto for that matter. Alicent and your father were busy chatting away – assumedly about more wedding plans – and Helaena patiently ate and helped feed her children in turn. There were other noble ladies and men around the table as there were most nights. You couldn’t keep up with all the conversation around, and frankly didn’t care to, because you kept watching the main entrance dreamily as if Aemond would stroll through it at any moment. Jane always knew how to pull you out of your little daydreams. “I almost wish you hadn’t reminded me because now I’m sad,” you laughed.

“Not my intention!” She giggled despite the defensiveness of her tone. “I think it’s lovely your wedding will be so close to the dance. Perhaps they’ll allow us a bonfire in celebration too.”

“Perhaps! Though… I do admit… – ” you dropped your voice low and leaned closer to Jane so no one else might hear what you said “ – I don’t know how long after the vows I’ll be able to stay. The bedding ceremony follows soon after, yes?”

Jane squealed. “You unholy woman!”

You two broke off into fits of giggles and entirely unladylike banter. You did your very best to stay hushed, however, not wanting just anyone to hear the things you were saying about your betrothed. In fact, such talk was more suited for bedchambers and private groups – not the middle of dinner. You both got a few side eyes and raised eyebrows. Even your father gave you the look on two separate occasions. Whoops. Maybe the wine was affecting you more than you realized. Finishing the remainder of your food, you stood and walked to give your father’s cheek a goodnight kiss.

“Take some water and drink it before you fall asleep! You little wildling,” he called after you.

There was already a full pitcher of water in your bedchamber, but that didn’t stop Jane from grabbing an extra just in case.

By now you were both learning the halls of the Red Keep. The main hallways, that is. There was much more to the sprawling castle than you knew, and to say it was intimidating and overwhelming was an understatement. Thankfully – by the God's small graces – its main flow was easy enough to learn and navigate.

“When the castle was complete under King Maegor’s rule, he had all the builders executed to ensure only the Targaryen’s knew its hidden passages and secrets,” Aemond had told you during one of your earlier explorations of the castle. You hadn’t a reason to doubt him. But, even if you did, you knew in your bones he spoke the truth.

How different he was than any boy you knew from home. A true Targaryen from the blood of Old Valyria. You, naught but a sweet, delicate grape, held inside the claw of a mighty beast; how easily he could skin you whole. His steady eye observed you, studied you; the tips of his roughened fingers gingerly accepting your more forward affections so those tips might learn the utter softness of your flesh.

Inside your room you readied for sleep. "A bonfire on the beach in honor of the Arbor's celebration being prepared as we speak…," you spoke dreamily, eyes a little distant as you envisioned Aemond experiencing it for the first time.

Jane's delicate fingers loosened your day's braid before brushing any tangles out. "Surely you know the rumors of the prince…," she said, baiting you, arching a brow at you through the mirror.

"There's quite a few. You'll have to be more specific," you replied similarly.

"He doesn't dance! At all. The only dancing he's done is in the sky on his dragon. Or dancing with foes in the training yard and skirmishes." 

You knew of these rumors, of course. "I suppose he'll need some practice before the wedding then, yes?"

Your best friend and lady-in-waiting smirked and rolled her eyes. "And I suppose you think you'll be the one to teach the tall lanky prince how to dance on a whim?"

"He's not lanky!" 

You both laughed and continued the banter until you were dressed comfortably for bed. She bid you a goodnight and kiss on the forehead before leaving to retire to her own chamber. Sleep came easily that night. Sweet wine coated your palate and you dreamt of embers and jellyfish.

-

The sun barely lightened the sky when you woke. Perfect, you thought to yourself as you stretched with a wide yawn. Excitement pulled at your belly and before you knew it your bare feet padded across the chilly stone floor to your desk. You struck your candle to flame, dipped a quill into its inkpot, and began writing a letter to your soon to be husband. He'd written you many little letters since your arrival, and you'd yet to have one delivered to his room. Before losing inspiration, you wrote,

"My dearest Aemond,

Meet me down at the beach tonight. With it still being high summer the sun doesn't set until late. Please. You won't want to miss this.

Your Lady Redwyne"

Still in your nightgown with only a flimsy robe covering yourself, you cracked the door open and peered outside. Grinning, you hissed a careful whisper, "Louis! Psst, hey Lou!" 

He perked up after the second call of his name. "My Lady? What is it? Is everything okay?" His armor clinked as he strode over to you quickly, kind eyes looking over you for any sign of distress. As soon as he saw your excited glimmer, however, his shoulders softened. "You're perky this morning."

"Take this to Prince Aemond! Please. Before he leaves his chamber for the day. It's important, hurry!" You put the carefully folded letter in his hand and shooed him off. "Thank you," you added before closing and latching the door again, trying to calm the excited wave of butterfly wings in your belly.

Tonight would be magical.

You dressed, braided your hair, donned some of your favorite gold jewelry, and applied perfume to the insides of your wrists, behind each ear, and at the center of your breast. You prayed for the hours to pass quickly as you applied makeup. Accentuating your features always made you feel pretty. There was an art to it too, you realized some years ago, in balancing hues and pigments to your natural skin without looking akin to someone from the theater. Like everything, it took practice. And you were happy with how your skills had grown. With one final tuck of hair here, and twist of hair there, you departed your bedchamber with confidence in your stride.

Breakfast. Going over more wedding plans. Tea and lunch with fellow ladies of the court. A break amidst the gardens. Supper. All without Aemond. The hours flew by and yet the day itself dragged. As soon as you were finished you made a sneaky escape to your horse in the stable. Before your father, or Louis, or even Jane knew what you were up to, you were off. 

Please let Aemond make it. Please let Aemond make it. Please let Aemond make it, you said like a mantra to yourself in time with your horse’s pace. The mare wasn't easily spooked and quite prone to biting. It took you at least the first three days to gain her trust, and at least another two to make it so you could saddle and ride her without the assistance of a stable boy who’d been around her nearly his whole life. You pulled all the tricks: oats, apples, even carrots. Finally, after many suspicious huffing fits, the mean she-beasty warmed up to you. Now, she greeted you with happy whinnies and curious snufflings – she’d know if you came without a peace treaty and you weren’t about to try your luck with that yet.

The sun was perhaps two hours from setting when you made it down to the beach to begin collecting wood for a fire. The fresh salty air was warm and you were glad to have worn a thin dress with billowing accents. Waves continuously lapped at the shore and before too long you found yourself in a partial trance. Thoughts in your mind slowed and quieted, and for a moment the sand almost looked like the golden sand of which you were born to.

"My Lady Redwyne," Aemond's soft voice called from behind you. At least he had the decency to let his presence be known before merely arriving out of thin air like he usually did with you. He'd ditched his normal tunic and only wore his thin linen undershirt; its laces only partially tied to expose a tantalizing swath of his collar and chest. Leather in the summer heat could be unbearable and you were glad to see him in less clothing -- for wholly innocent and wholly impure reasons alike. "You picked a fine horse for the ride down here. I trust you have your dagger too?" He asked, eyeing you over approvingly and questioningly.

A smile curled up from your mouth and went right to your eyes. How you missed him. With his hair rippling in the wind, and his shirt giving sight to parts of himself that you'd yet to see, and the tiny pucker of his mischievous lips, a pang rang in your heart. How did you go so long without knowing him? Without being his betrothed? "Of course. I've not gone a single place without it since you gifted it to me in your secret place."

The space between you was closed by his long careful strides in the sand, and he wordlessly took the pile of driftwood from your arms. "There's my good girl. Where would you like these?"

Blushing, you pointed to the stack you'd been working on and said, "just there."

"What is it you're so excited to show me?" He asked once you both gently discarded the driftwood into the pile.

You began stacking it neatly, in the way your father taught you, to make a successful fire. "Every year, when the summers extend beyond one year, the Arbor has a celebration known as 'the dance of the moonlight jellies'," you said fondly, looking over to him with distant, happy eyes. "The final preparations would be happening now. It's always been my favorite celebration, and this is the first one I've ever missed."

Aemond listened curiously as he always did whenever you talked about things from home -- whether it be stories and myths, lore, architecture, or anything else. "Tell me about it, my Lady."

A wistful sigh escaped your lungs. "On the western part of the island, out into the Sunset Sea, there is a breed of jellyfish who migrate along our coastline. We build bonfires along the beach and out on the docks as far as we can. These jellies are special because they glow," you smiled, movements continuing on muscle memory as you struck a fire to life. "They make the water look as if a hundred thousand fires were beneath the surface. Everyone from the highest houses down to the most rugged Flowers join together for the night. We sing, and dance, and drink spiced wine." By now your own little fire was coming more and more to life. "All while they slowly drift along with the ocean's current." By the end of the explanation you were sitting and beginning to work your shoes off your feet.

All the while, Aemond listened and imagined such a thing even happening. There was nothing like that around here. He never journeyed far from home for too long either, for his princely and second son's duties kept him tied down to King's Landing -- more specifically, the court of the Red Keep -- with a short leash. The more he learned from you, the more he realized he truly knew nothing of the Arbor. "Everyone? The nobles and the bastards?"

"Yes, my prince. All is cast aside for the night. It is truly that important to the people and tradition."

Golden sun washed over the young prince as he looked out to the ocean. Pensive. A few moments of silence followed as you both quietly observed the continuous lap of waves. When he turned his attention back to you his pupil was so small from the sun that the lilac of his iris was all you could see. "I would fly you there tonight if things were different in our world, now."

Guilt rushed to your throat. "Oh, Aemond, no. That is not what I meant by any of this," you said with meaning as you found yourself straddling over his lap with his lovely sharp face between your hands. "I am sad to miss it, yes, of course. But that is why I'm here now. And that is why I wanted you to join me here and now too, so I could share this special time with you." You gently pressed your forehead to his, the tip of your nose fitting against his bridge. A soft smile pulled on your lips when his mouth brushed yours in a whispering kiss.

Lips led to tongues, and soon to teeth, and Aemond's hands traced along your hips and waist all the while. Goosebumps tickled your skin despite the warmth of the air and fire. The press of his hands, the weight of them, had you panting against his mouth. Leaning back, he grinned slyly. "Let us stop before we cannot." He gave your hip a firm squeeze before slowly, slowly, letting go of you against him.

"I want so badly to be your wife...," you whispered sincerely. "Before, though, there is one more thing I need to share with you." Heat crept into your face, yet this blush had nothing to do with the coil of arousal in your belly and all to do with the humiliation in which you were going to show your soon to be husband.

Confusion and worry instantly shifted his features. "What is it, sweetling?"

Emotion welled in your eyes and it took a great deal of strength to not let tears fall from your clumpy eyelashes. "Promise you won't change your mind about me either?"

He ran a thumb across your freckled cheek. Your sweet doe-brown eyes ripped at his heart. "I promise."

You offered a soft sad smile before carefully moving from atop his lap. Shifting, you instead sat between his legs with your own outstretched before both of you. You pulled your legs up at the knee so your feet were flat and fully exposed for both of your visions. On each foot, the second and third toe were fully fused together, and a small webbing of skin connected the base of all your toes together. Without looking over your shoulder to Aemond, you explained, "it is a bad omen." As if he wasn't connecting the dots you pointed out your deformity. "Akin to your eye it is a cloak of shame for me. In our mythos it is said it only happens to those who had a twin in the womb... but ended up killing the twin. It is said we are cursed, for we are bloodthirsty like sharks. Only the strongest survive. So we are born with these to let everyone know we are capable of kinslaying as only babes."

Aemond pushed his fingers against the side of your jaw so you were forced to look back at him. His face was somehow soft and stern alike. "Then you are my bloodthirsty little babe. Dragons do not share their egg with another dragon. If the mythos is true, then you are the strongest. And it was you who was born for a reason." He kissed you again, fiercer, this time, and the salt of your tears clung to his tongue.

The sun's golden rays disappeared beyond the curve of the ocean and a spill of reds, oranges, and pinks filled the sky instead. "Dance with me, Aemond. I don't care if you don't know how to. No one is around to see. It can be another one of our secrets," you forced a tiny laugh through the emotion which swelled your throat. You smiled, genuine, and helped him stand.

There were no drums, nor string instruments, nor anything else but the rolling roars of waves as you and Aemond danced beneath the growing moonlight with only your fire as witness.

-

The following morning you were surprised to see everyone already at the table eating. Aegon, Helaena, their children, Alicent, Otto, Aemond, and your father. Happiness filled in your chest at the idea of sharing a meal with Aemond – he’d been so busy you two hadn’t been afforded the luxury for what seemed days. You and Jane shared a little look as you strolled to the empty seat next to your betrothed. Polite greetings filled the table. It all looked and smelled wonderful. 

“Good morning, my prince. Is there an occasion I’m unaware of?” you asked as you began dishing up. Ever since you could remember you were always most hungry in the mornings.

“Good timing on everyone’s part, I’m assuming.”

Beneath the table, he bumped his leg against yours and gave you a half-sly side glance. Manners were important to him, and sharing a table with so many kin meant his bump, and his face, was likely all the flirting that would happen this morn.

It didn’t go unnoticed by you nor the King. Where you smiled coyly and shared the look with Aemond, Aegon snorted. “I forgot to ask, brother, did you and Lady Redwyne enjoy your little adventure out to your rock? I heard she had sweet little bruises all over her tender flesh that night. I don’t blame you for not wanting to wait. She’s supple as any peach,” he said brazenly, finishing the remainder of his wine in a single gulp. “More,” he said to everyone and no one alike. Holding his goblet out to be refilled, he chuckled and flashed his best smile to you. Judging by the glaze over his eyes, and the dark circles beneath them, this wasn’t the first cup of wine he’d had. 

You tensed. Aemond tensed. At your side, and beneath the table too, Jane gripped your hand tightly. Lord Redwyne glared at King Aegon but dared not say anything – at least not yet – in fear of what the drunken King might do.

“Aegon Targaryen!” Alicent hissed to her oldest son, dark eyes blazing. “King or no, that is extremely inappropriate. How dare you speak to your brother and future sister-in-law in such a way in front of everyone!”

“What? I’m only expressing my happiness to my little brother for finally getting it wet. And with a girl so pretty too. Prettier than any whore I’ve seen.”

Jane squeezed your hand hard as Aemond’s and your father’s chair toppled backwards with the ferocity in which they stood.

“Says the man who took me to a brothel when I was only three and ten–”

“King or not I will not sit here and let some boy talk about my daughter in such a manner you insolent–”

Aemond’s voice and Lord Redwyne’s voice boomed into one, their words meshing in a mess of hollars as Alicent joined in the scolding. Polished silver clattered loudly and silently alike onto the stone floor. Who had thrown it?

You were struck dumb. If this is what broke out during an otherwise ordinary meal, what happened behind closed doors? During small council meetings? Stress weighed on the entire kingdom and the family before you bore the bulk of it. Everyone’s nerves hung by a thread: a thread which could be snapped as easily as a dried twig by a stupidly careless remark. Embarrassment burned your face and hot tears threatened to spill from your welling eyes. This was nothing short of a nightmare and you wanted nothing more than to disappear.

Your ears muffled as if you were under water. You weren't sure how much time had passed. Even Otto stood, his voice adding to the yelling.

“Come, Princess Emeline,” Helaena’s soothing voice whispered delicately against your ear. Her hand, beautifully pale and impossibly soft, grabbed for your own and pulled you from your chair amidst the yelling. She ushered you away. Crimson wine dripped onto the floor from where it was spilled atop the table.

“Thank you, Your Grace,” you stammered, frantically swiping tears from your cheeks. 

“I am sorry for the way my husband is acting. If I am to be honest… we received extremely troubling news about Rhaenyra and Daemon this morning. Even if no one will admit it, this war has everyone scared.”

Despite the meaning of her words, she, outwardly, seemed calm.

Not having anything intelligent to say, you squeezed her hand reassuringly. No one followed you ladies out. At a glance, it appeared guards were watching and taking note of your movements through the halls. Helaena turned here, and there, and before you knew it you were standing out by the weirwood. It loomed tall and wide. It cast a shadow of mysticism. Tranquility. For the first time since arriving in the dining hall you breathed a true lungful of air. And then another.

"You are a strong swimmer, and Aemond a strong flier. Both, and more, will be required in the coming time," Helaena spoke dreamily as she led you to an ancient camellia tree. "Two fruits of one, and one of two," she continued to muse aloud. She laid back in the vibrant petals fallen amongst the grass, and you followed along. "Have you ever noticed how red this camellia is? It hardly seems real."

Your vision turned from her to the tree. Leaves of green and flowers of red contrasted starkly against the blue morning sky. A breeze moved through the air and a petal slowly fell to land on the center of your abdomen. "I've never seen one this size before," you said in the serene quietness. Comfort seeped into your bones as you watched fluffy clouds drift across the sky.

A thin long legged spider crawled across Helaena’s outstretched hand. She watched the tiny creature as if it were the most magnificent thing. “You make my brother happy. Thank you for that, princess,” she said, not taking her attention away from the spider. “He bears much and carries more.”

Helaena’s words sent something like love fluttering in your belly as you regarded the gentle far-seeing Queen. Her white hair fanned around her head like a halo on the crimson petals; violet eyes distant and unfocused. “Thank you, Your Grace,” is all you replied, not wanting to break her other-worldly concentration. 

She continued to mutter quiet things about: from two to one, moving shadows, and cracked shells. 

Tranquil minutes passed. You became lost in the garden of your mind.

“My Lady…,” Aemond’s voice broke through your reverie. “I apologize for what happened.” He extended a hand to you, silently offering to help you up from the grass. “Allow me to take you to your chambers?”

You nodded and accepted his hand. “Yes, please,” you said as you stood and brushed any debris or wrinkles from your dress. Emotion swelled up from your diaphragm to the back of your throat and it took a steadying breath, or three, to push it down. Stress and tension simmered inside you and it threatened to boil over.

“Thank you, sweet sister, for getting her away,” Aemond said. Helaena only briefly regarded him and offered a short wave. 

Aemond held you close as you both walked the halls to your bedchamber. Beneath the scents of smoke (which clung so close to him you swore it seeped from his own pores), leather, and bathing oils, he smelled like clean sweat. It wasn’t at all unpleasant. If anything it made you want to bury your face into his neck and not come out for hours. Hurt weighed on your heart. 

You missed home. You missed the sense of normalcy you'd known your whole life. So many things were different here. You clung to Jane when you could, and even grounded yourself to Louis, and of course found comfort in your father. Thank the Seven they were all here. If they weren't, you might very well have turned around in Blackwater Bay as soon as you arrived.

Here, now, you clung to Aemond. Your prince who regarded you with compassion, curiosity, and gentleness, so unlike the way you'd seen him interact with anyone else. It only made you want to draw those tender moments out from him more.

"Aegon is vile. And an idiot," he said as soon as your chamber door was securely shut. You stood facing each other in the gentle sunbeams of your quarter; still somewhat bare and lacking your personal touch. "He is drunk but that is no excuse for him to behave in the way he did. Are you alright?" Both his hands cupped your face in reverence, his single eye peering between both of yours as if deciphering your thoughts like scrawled words on parchment.

Hesitation hung in the air before you nodded. "Yes, I'm alright, my pr-, Aemond," you caught his title before it fell from your lips, whispering his name instead.

"Your Aemond. You are correct, princess," he smiled and tipped his head down to meet your lips in a tender kiss. "No harm will come to you whether it be from my kin or enemy alike. Do you understand me? As my betrothed, and even more so once you are my wife." His gaze was only sharp, now, face stern, lacking any of its previous softness.

Searching his features and posture, you, once again, hesitated before asking in a voice that could have been lost in a space any louder than the one you currently shared, "you promise?"

"I promise."

-

Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider a follow and/or reblog and/or letting me know! It would make me vvvery happy ♥ See you in chapter 5 where there will be wedding bells!

masterlist

taglist: to be added or removed, please say something ♥ bold means I could not tag you

@melsunshine @iiamthehybrid @arcielee @nina2697 @darylandbethfanforever9 @sahvlren @targaryenbrainrot @bellaisasleep @watercolorskyy @ruby-dragon @aemonds-fire @meggiemay82 @doublesparrows @silverwinged @nikstrange @castellomargot @lost-and-founds @chompchompluke @sirenofavalon @okfashionista @girlwith-thepearlearring

you did not asked to be added but I thought you might like to know since it has been so flippin long! @borikenlove @abbyandizzysmum @disco--fairy

[deuxcherise]

Collar Crimes: Self-Preservations

C/w: Unhealthy behavior, OCs, yandere male, tsundere male, kidnapping, violence against doors, slight fluff (?), slight comfort (?), reader insert, gender neutral reader, includes a picture of cutting board with fruits and a knife (you’ll see why~).

A/n: So! Back with another chapter for Collar Crimes. I had a plan originally to introduce another yandere in this chapter, but the build-up here is quite delicious in my opinion so I’ll save the introduction for whenever the time comes. Basically a tiny time-skip from the last chapter because I was thinking that the problem was that everything that was happening to you, the reader, takes too little time between each “event” so to speak, so yeah! Also exploring some of your personal life outside of Eris and friends. Enjoy~!

Masterlist | Part 0, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 (1/2), Part 3 (2/2), Part 4, Part 5 (you’re here!), Part 6 (not yet!)

It has been a month since the Family Portrait incident and life has returned to normality…

But what would be considered abnormal at this point?

Briiing! Briiing! Tch.

“Hello~ This is Lychee speaking~ How may I sweeten up your day today?” you sing into the phone.

“Sweetheart~ I’ve missed you sooooo much!” the caller answers.

Although no one except for your coworkers can see your face, you resist the urge to roll your eyes at yet another cringey lovey-dovey line of your newest client. You have been called a variety of things such as “darling”, “honey”, “sweetie”, “sweet talker”, “beautiful”,  “my special”, “youngster”, “lady”, “sir”, “ma’am”, “dadd— sometimes vulgar things you do not wish to recall at the moment. Whatever the customer wants, the customer gets— aka whatever pays the bills.

Of course, your mind echoes, no one could beat the way Eris calls you “love-”

You bang your head on your desk. The current caller on the line worriedly exclaim, “S-sweetheart? What was that?”

You clear your throat, pressing against the sore area on your forehead. “Nothing at all, dear~ I just accidentally dropped a heavy stapler. It’s been a long day, ah…”

“Aww~ My sweetheart is working so hard… I’ll tell you what. Tonight, I’ll take you to the fanciest restaurant in the city, okay? My treat.”

Wow. Such a grand gesture. This client really has a savior complex. Kind of like-  “Ehhh? Don’t worry about it. And besides, I’m working pretty late tonight so… ”

“Noooo! You can’t refuse,” your client says. “I’ll march right up to your company and kidnap you away myself if I have to.”

“Pffft. Don’t make that kind of joke, Ren,” you fake laugh. If only the police were more reliable in this godforsaken city…

“Ah~ I really like it when you say my name. Do it again.”

“Ren?”

“Again. But more lovely.”

“Ren~” you repeat with a soft and breathy tone.

The caller on the phone giggles manically before they bid you goodbye with lots of kisses and other corny romantic lines. You hang up the phone and give a sigh as you slouch back against your chair. One of your coworkers leans back far on her own chair to show her face past the divider between your desks.

“Long day?” she sings.

Eye closed, you nod. “Mmhm.”

“.....”

“.....”

Sensing eyes on you, you open your own and turn towards your coworker, who looks like she’s about to burst. Eyebrows raised, you ask with amusement in your voice,  “Yes, Cherry?”

She puckers up her lip, humming, “Mmm… ya know~ The usual? Can I? Please?”

You mentally prepare yourself and shrug. “Yeah. Sure.”

“Yay!” She celebrates with both arms raised before she takes a deep breath. “So-”

-----

“-or not? Like how do I know if she really loves me? What do you think, (Y/n)?”

Truth be told, you might have zoned out after twenty minutes before zoning back in during the last few minutes of the hour-long rant. Somehow, there wasn’t a call during the entire time, though your shifts are almost over. “Uh… so what’s the problem again? Didn’t she already agree to date you?”

“I know,” Cherry insists, throwing her hands up in defeat. “But I'm still so worried. Like what if she looks at someone else and finds them better than me? HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO COMPARE??? SHE IS A GODDESS, I TELL YOU. I AM NOTHING BUT A LOWLY BUG THAT SHE NEEDS TO STEP ON OR SO HELP ME-”

You keep silent as she releases her passion out loud, much to the detriment of your other coworkers. Your other adjacent coworker, Azeru, sitting on your other side, leans back on his chair to join the conversation. “Hey, Cherry. If you’re this crazy about your girlfriend now, what’s gonna happen when you finally marry her?” he chuckles.

A glint appears in her eyes, accompanied by tears beading at the bottom of her eyes and a strangely, crooked smile on her lips. “Oh… well… If I had it my way, I’d lock her up with me in our house and we’d stay in bed all day. Just me and my honey~ Isn’t that a wonderful idea?”

Old memories of a familiar dynamic bleed into your head, sending a shiver up your spine. “That’s a horrible idea,” you want to comment, but your voice doesn’t leave your tightened throat. Instead, what comes out is: “Uh… uh…

“Doesn’t your girlfriend like being outside though?” Azeru points out. “If you keep her inside all day, she might come to hate you.”

Cherry’s maniacal face shatters into terror. “I…” Her pupils begin to tremble. “Could that happen?”

“Oh, absolutely. If you love someone, you have to let them have the freedom to roam as they please.” His voice then becomes more dark and gravelly. “That being said, it is a given that you must punish them if they stray too far. That’s why when I find someone one day, I’ll make sure they know they’re on an extended leash…”

You open your mouth to retort, but you start to wonder if perhaps you were born unlucky. Lately, you’ve realized that you might be some kind of magnet for weirdos. Speaking of weirdos, ever since Eris took his friend to the nearest hospital to get treated for a possible concussion, you haven’t seen him around. That doesn’t mean he hasn’t been around your home, seeing as your fridge is still stocked with fresh meals and there’s not a speck of dust to be seen in any of the rooms, but the lack of his dopey smiling face is concerning.

…..

You scoff. Regardless, it’s not like anything would change even if he did show up like he used to. It would just be annoying to have to endure his warm hugs and sweet whispers again…

“(Y/n)!?” Cherry shrieks after you bang your head on your desk again.

Azeru snickers. “You must be thinking of lover boy, huh?”

You glare at him through your eyes and voice, your ever-present blank expression lending no assistance. “No. Say that again and I’ll rip out your tongue, Blueberry.”

You can visibly see his shoulders shake as he smirks, containing his laughter. “I really can’t take you seriously when you have such a straight face.” He settles down with an amused sigh, a look of concern replacing his smirk. “But seriously, you seem kind of… I dunno. Out of it lately.”

You wrinkle your eyebrows. “... Really?”

“Yeah! Azeru’s right. Even your Lychee voice is lacking that… that sparkle-sparkle quality,” Cherry adds, mimicking fireworks with her hands. “Are you okay, (Y/n)? You’re even banging your head…” Her red eyes go wide. “You’re not trying to erase memories of those perverted callers, are you!? THERE ARE BETTER WAYS-”

“I’m sure that’s not what (Y/n)’s trying to do, right? ‘Cause if you need forgetting,” Azeru says, patting your back before taking out a black bat with skulls and x’s patterned all over it from under his desk, “all you just need to do is ask. I’ll help you out for free, courtesy as a fellow Fruity Friend~”

“Yeah…” You ignore the happy-murderer look on Azeru’s face, sit up straight, and place both of your hands on your desk with determination. “You know what? I think I need a vacation.”

Cherry and Azeru gasp. “A vacation!?” 

Indeed… You stand up from your desk with such vigor before walking straight towards the manager’s office. A vacation is exactly what you need. Away from work. Away from your apartment. Away from all of these crazy people!!!

-----

“YOU CAN’T, (Y/N)! PLEASE, YOU CAN’T GO ON VACATION. YOU’RE ONE OF OUR BEST CALLERS! Y-YOU KNOW WHAT?? HOW ABOUT I RAISE YOUR SALARY, HUH?”

You click your tongue. “You can’t buy me with mon-”

“I’ll raise your salary to XXXXXX.”

“.....”

-----

You close the office door behind you with a sigh. Looking next to you, you find Cherry and Azeru waiting with bated breath, making the questioning gesture with their palms up to receive the verdict.

“So?” Cherry speaks, her pouty lips making an ‘o’.

You simply answer with a shrug, “I got a pay raise.”

The two of them drop their arms and groan. “I knew it,” Azeru sighs, burying his face in his hands. “The money’s too good to quit!”

While you failed to acquire approval for vacation, you’re not feeling too bad considering your income has just upgraded from rent money and leftover takeout to rent money and luxurious restaurant dine-in and leftovers. Though, with your fridge stocked, you suppose you could apply the extra funds towards other things…

But what things? you wonder. Other than a place to live, something to eat, and the bathroom, there is not much you desire. Once upon a time, you would’ve desired owning luxury brands and all that stuff but… you found out the hard way that all the sparkling opulence in the world couldn’t afford you any warmth and comfort in a cold, restrictive home.

Out of an old habit you haven’t gotten rid of, you start to caress your left ring finger with your right index and thumb. “Riiight?” you agree, bitterly.

-----

With the end of the work day, employees of Fruity Friends bid their adieus to each other and set forth home or to an outing. You, Azeru, and Cherry head out of the doors of your company building and down the stairs onto the sidewalk.

“C’mooon! Are you sure you don’t want to join us?” Cherry whines, behind you with hands on your shoulders.

“Yeah, gonna go home,” you answer. “Wanna sleep.”

Azeru snickers on the side. “What are you? A senior citizen?”

“Hardy har har,” you laugh unenthusiastically, gently brushing Cherry’s hands off your shoulder. “You guys go on ahead without me, okay? Have fun.”

At that moment, a black limousine with tinted black windows drives up the curb and stops into front of you three. The chauffeur comes out, a middle-aged man with salt and pepper hair, dressed in a fancy chauffeur outfit, and gestures towards you before greeting, “Good afternoon, dear esteemed guest of the Ermine Family. We are here to escort you to your dinner reservation with our eldest son, Eris Ermine.”

You stare like a deer in headlights. “Huh?”

Azeru and Cherry look between you and the chauffeur before teasing you with an, “Ooooooh!”

“Wow~ fancy, fancy~” Cherry nudges you with her elbow.

“Got a dinner date with lover boy, huh~?” Azeru nudges you on your other side.

They said Eris, but… “I’m sorry, I think you have the wrong person,” you say, jabbing your coworkers with your own elbows at their sides to make them stop.

The chauffeur shakes his head. “I do believe we have the right person. You are (Y/n) (M/n) (L/n), are you not?”

You almost click your tongue, but don’t out of manners. You haven’t seen that stupid guy in over a month and now he suddenly sends someone to pick you up? That’s so… unlike him.

“I’m not. I’ve been mistaken for that person before. Good day,” you say, dragging your coworkers off. Your coworkers luckily get the memo and decide to go along quietly.

“My deepest apologies, dear (L/n),” the chauffeur says, pulling the visor of his hat slightly downward. “I was informed by Mr. Ermine that if you do not come willingly, we are required to use force if needed.”

Upon hearing those words, you swerve your head around just to witness your coworkers collapse to the ground. Little darts are embedded into their necks. Before you can scream or make a move, gloved arms cover your mouth and wrap around your body, lifting you up into the air and towards the limousine. Struggle as you might, your punches and kicks have no effect on the kidnappers and you are immediately thrown into the backseat of the vehicle. The door is slammed shut and the push button is lowered, locking you inside. You hear the chauffeur getting to the driver’s seat. Making a last ditch attempt, you throw yourself against the windows, any windows, but your effort is vain and all you end up with are two bruised shoulders. You turn towards the front dividers separating you and the chauffeur, screaming, “LET ME OUT OR I SWEAR TO GOD I- I- I'LL-”

“Apologies,” the chauffeur merely says, before he drives you off to who knows where. “This is just business.”

-----🔔-----

For unsuspecting visitors who dare set foot in the city of Agobury, it is highly advised to pay close attention to where their foot lands. Else they find themselves six feet underground.

Of course, as humor goes, there is no clear differentiation between the streets. It is often said that only those born and raised in Agobury can survive in Agobury. And those who used to live in Agobury… don’t live anywhere else, if one understands rightly.

However, if one somehow manages to succeed in making a living in Agobury, then it is often said that they have made a deal with the Devil. The May Devils, to be exact, who are rumored to own more than half of the city. The other half is scattered between smaller organizations, but they too warrant respect or fear by their own right.

“Or so they say,” Ollie murmurs, arms crossed as he leans against the wall.

He stands up and straight and looks at his best friend humming a tune while placing a tin full of batter into the oven. The image of Eris dressed up in a pink apron decorated with red hearts and matching oven mitts goes against Eris’s original image, prompting him to demand, “What the hell are you doing? Training to be a malewife or something?”

Eris snaps out of his daydreams and looks over with a bright smile. “Hm? Oh! Nah, I suggested that to my lover already and they refused. I'm just baking a cake for my six-month relationship milestone~”

“Oh.” Ollie deadpans. “That's a thing?”

“Uh, yeah?” Eris answers as if Ollie just asked if the sky was blue. He takes off his oven mitts and tosses them on the counter before preparing the washed fruits on a cutting board. “So make sure your men take extra care in delivering this one, mkay? I'll kill them if my lover gets a mess.”

How is Eris acting like he hasn't been imprisoned behind several reinforced steel doors in one of the May Devils’ homes for the past month? For the last four weeks, he’s been making what used to be an empty stone-covered haunted looking basement into a cozy home for himself and having Ollie deliver the goods secretly, out of the May Devils’ sight. To be fair, those mafioso probably gave the weasel some furniture and a usable kitchen just to keep the violent man occupied and placated with the lack of windows and any access to the outside world. Actually, the better question would be-

“Why haven’t you broken out yet instead of decorating this place and baking cakes?” Ollie asks. “I thought you'd put up more of a fight.”

Eris pops a blueberry into his mouth to test out if it's sweet or not. Finding it at the right level of sweetness, he hums in delight as he imagines you happily enjoying this same sweetness.

“Oh, that. Your parents visited me a few days ago and gave some advice. They said that distance makes the heart grow fonder. I don't exactly agree with that since I feel like I'm dying every day I don’t see my lover,” he says with a smile on his face though his eyes are dark and his chopping of the apples is audibly sharp as if to emphasize the point. “But your parents have been married for so long and have many children together and they still clearly love each other, so I trust them.”

The same parents who have been urging Ollie to make a move on you ever since Eris has been locked up, Ollie almost wants to add out of spite. Almost. Trust is truly a fragile commodity around these parts.

“Besides, I gotta stay away for a while,” Eris continues. “I didn’t realize the flies around my lover were devils.”

“Huh… How kind of you.” And out-of-character! The Eris he knew didn't care about consequences. What kind of sorcery have you casted on that beast of a weasel? Not that Ollie himself hasn't been bewitched somewhat, if he had to be honest… 

Eris’s expression turns wicked with a condescending smirk. “Oh, right. You probably don’t understand ‘cause you haven’t fallen in love yet. My bad~ ” he teases.

One of Ollie’s eyes twitches. “I'll have you know-”

“That our Ollie has fallen in love~”

Eris turns and Ollie twists around to find Ollie's mother, who has appeared out of nowhere along with Ollie's father in tow.

“Mother!? Father!? What are you doing here?”

Ollie's mother pouts and places her hands on her hips. “We can't visit our son and his best friend?”

“Well, that's-”

“But anyway~” Ollie's mother waves her hand, cutting Ollie off. “Our dear Ollie has fallen in love, dear Eris. Unfortunately, it is…” She places a hand over heart and the other over her forehead in a dramatic pose with fluttering eyes. “A forbidden love,” she finishes. Ollie's father nods, placing a hand over his heart and looking forlorn to emphasize the drama.

“Again!? You two! Stop it!” Ollie pleads.

Eris crooks an eyebrow in disbelief. “Forbidden love? Ollie?”

Ollie turns back to Eris, fear in his wide eyes. He wouldn't call what he felt for you… “love” as his parents keep telling him, but… it might be… something close to it. Despite having the back of his head slammed against the wooden floor of your apartment, he still hasn't forgotten how your heavenly happy face made his heart skip a beat-

Ollie would be hard-pressed to call that “love”. It’s not! He barely knows you. It's like, uh, like admiring a beautiful piece of art, okay?? Art prompts feelings. That's what it's supposed to do!

But there's no possible way he could share and work out these feelings with Eris or anyone else without getting beat up or made fun of. Damn…

“It's not love!” Ollie insists.

Eris snorts. “Okay.”

Ding!

“Oh! My cake!” Eris chirps, forgetting about the other people in the room in favor of bringing out the cake and prepping the frosting and icing for when it cools down.

Ollie's mother wraps an arm around Ollie’s shoulder to keep him in place as she leans towards Ollie's ear and whispers behind a hand, “I see you've already made a move on our dear (Y/n). How devious~”

“What??” Ollie shouts in shock.

Eris looks over curiously. Blocking his view is Ollie’s father, who flops a hand up and down, as if to say, “Don't mind them.” The unsuspecting weasel nods in understanding before Ollie’s father points to the bowl of cream in Eris’s hands, which prompts Eris to explain the whole six month relationship milestone thing while the mother-and-son duo are scheming in the background.

Ollie's cheeks are being squished almost to the point of painful by his mother. “Since when have you decided to raise your voice at your mother?” she jokes menacingly before she releases his cheeks and drags him out of the basement. Once the door is closed, his mother crosses her arms with a pout. “What's with that reaction earlier, hm?”

Ollie only looks at her incredulously. “Mother! One, I'm not interested in-” He whispers, trying to avoid his voice from being picked up by the cameras in this house. “(Y/n) like that. And two, they’re Eris's lover. And three, I haven't made any kind of moves.”

“Eh?” She looks at him with confusion. “Well, first of all, there’s no ring so you still have a chance. Two, everyone knows, besides Eris, that you’re interested in them so might as well make your move. And three, how come you made the reservation for Eris and his lover if you’re not attending?” his mother asks.

Ollie's eyebrows furrowed. “I didn't make any reservations for them. Did you?”

“No…?”

The two go back inside the basement and interrogate Eris, who is in the middle of deciding what color to make the frosting. Ollie’s father had been assisting with coming up with potential designs for the cake.

“Huh? I didn't make any dinner reservations?” Eris says. “Wait, are those devils letting me go?”

“No. But if you didn't make any reservations, then who is your lover going with?”

“You weren't joking?” Eris's voice goes shrill. His eyes panic jolt all over the place until a particular thought enters his mind. He slaps the palm of his hand against his forehead and groans.

Ollie notices, his own eyes widening in horror. “It's not who I think it is, right?”

“Ah, could it be?” Ollie's mother wonders aloud. Ollie's father tilts his head before his own eyes widen.

“DAMN IT!” Eris roars, slamming a fist on the counter before grabbing the knife and storming towards the door.

Ollie tries to stop him. “Eris, you can't-”

Eris sends the first door flying with one kick. The impact against the parallel wall shatters it instantly. It was only made of mahogany wood so it wouldn't have stood a chance anyway. The rest of the reinforced doors standing in Eris’s way, well…

WOOOO! WOOOO! WOOOO!

The alarm goes off, signaling to the May Devil's security team to come take down their most dangerous prisoner who's on his way to you.

Ollie pinches the bridge of his nose. “Why is it always the mahogany…”

[missroserose]

13 books meme

@introvertia tagged me in this (thank you, lovely, you're such a positive influence on my reading consistency <3) So let's talk books!

1) The Last book I read:

The Sparrow by Mary Doria Russell. Absolutely destroyed me—90's science fiction, examining the paradoxes of faith and the difficulties of cross-culture exploration, seasoned with a hefty dose of grief and frustrated desire. Might as well have been written for me.

2) A book I recommend:

The Wicked & The Divine, by Kieron Gillen and Jamie McKelvie. A sprawling examination of the celebrity-industrial complex, cultural and individual objectification, and the dark side of fandom culture. Well worth reading through in its entirety.

3) A book that I couldn’t put down:

Starling House, by Alix E. Harrow. I'm a sucker for a fierce and driven heroine who makes things happen by sheer force of will, despite the odds being against her. Between that and the deliciously spooky atmosphere, I adored this book.

4) A book I’ve read twice (or more):

<i>Good Omens</i>, by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett. Hardly an original answer on this website, but it's a classic for a reason <3

5) A book on my TBR:

Victor Lavalle's The Changeling, thanks to @introvertia's recommendation. I know nothing about it but I'm looking forward to reading it!

6) A book I’ve put down:

The War of Art, by Steven Pressfield. I know that the accepted formula for self-help books is to present your one theory and explain why it solves every problem in the known universe, and I hate it, which is probably why I don't read a lot of self-help books. Needless to say, around the time this dude claimed that Hitler wouldn't have become a mass murderer if he'd followed the book's advice, I gave up in disgust.

7) A book on my wish list:

Honestly, I don't have many? I've been enjoying reading from the library, in part because my bedroom is already showing the strain of previous book-buying sprees.

8) A favorite book from childhood:

The Woman Who Rides Like a Man, by Tamora Pierce. I read the entire Alanna series numerous times but I think this was my favorite—I really loved seeing her come into her own independence and learn a new culture (and one that accepted her unusual gender presentation).

9) A book you would give to a friend:

Again, depends strongly on the friend...but I can think of more than a few who'd enjoy the old-school gothic fairytale setting and viciously driven heroine of A. G. Slatter's All the Murmuring Bones.

10) A book of Poetry or Lyrics you own:

Hm...does the script to Hedwig and the Angry Inch count?

11) A nonfiction book you own:

The Devil in the White City, by Erik Larson—they practically issue you a copy when you move to Chicago. (In fairness, it's a cracking read.)

12) What are you currently reading:

Skin Folk, a collection of short stories by Nalo Hopkinson. I'm also rereading (or re-listening to) Mike Carey's The Devil You Know, and enjoying it rather better this time around—I think the first time I tried it, almost ten years ago, I was expecting something more along the lines of The Dresden Files and wasn't quite old enough to appreciate the more emotionally battered and worn-down middle-aged protagonist. Now, being a decade older and having lived through a global pandemic and seen rather more of just how terrible people can be to each other...I think it's more my speed. And possibly good research for if I ever get my angel noir story off the ground.

13) What are you planning on reading next?

Definitely The Changeling.

Bonus Round Shelfie?

I'm at a library right now but I might add one later!

Tagging: @klove0511, @sirsparklepants, @emiliosandozsequence, @skybound2, @ihni, @callieb, @lord-angelfish, @redmyeyes, @misschinablue, and @sea-salted-wolverine—no pressure, obviously, but I'd be interested in your answers!

[gomapda]

sidewalks we crossed [side A: you.]

i started writing this over a year ago and never got around to finishing it; it’s meant to be a three-part thing. so maybe if i post the first part, i’ll be inspired to finish the rest. this wasn’t written to be shared with the public, mostly just for myself (which is why some of it can be cringey), but here we are anyway. hehe. happy birthday lee jihoon! 태어나줘서 고마워!

pairing: lee jihoon/woozi (seventeen) x f!reader

genre: romance, fluff

summary: an accidental like, an off-chance comment, a purposeful message. you were in an unrequited love with your childhood best friend and decided to run away from him and your feelings and years later you find yourself in the same city with the same feelings when he stalks your instagram.

rating: 13+

length: 23k (LOL)

tags: idol!jihoon, childhood friend!reader, unrequited love (but not really), reconnection through instagram, this is just different scenes pieced together (including a ton of flashbacks), reader’s nicknames are all bug-themed, reader has depression and it manifests as suicidal ideation sometimes, this is basically real life (aka seventeen exists and debuted 150526), but the years are a little bit off for the trainee period, jihoon left busan later and trained for shorter for the sake of my story hehe, cursing, pining, mamamoo + ateez are the besties of reader, member x member pairings, jihoon and reader are both dumbasses, reader is extremely book smart but has one brain cell when it comes to romantic feelings, jihoon writes music like he’s been divorced 12x, word genius lee jihoon, idk how doctoral degrees work, i only got my masters and it was a non-thesis track lol, also idk how trainee auditions work either, miss communication is a lady we all know too well, super cute soft shit too tho tbh, no beta we die like men, i spent 5 hours trying to format this for tumblr and i’m still unsure

inspired by “drivers license” by olivia rodrigo and “what kind of future?” by woozi

inspo spotify playlist found here!

side A: you.

“Are you insane?”

If it were months ago, you would’ve winced at the harshness in his tone, but you’ve hardened yourself with resolve, almost saddened that this was the most communication you two have had since, well, you couldn’t recall. “I’ve been contemplating this for a while now.”

“But you didn’t talk to anyone else about it!”

No, you thought bitterly. You just didn’t tell him.

“I’ve already talked to my parents,” you spoke coolly.

He scoffed. “As if they’ve ever actually cared about you and your life.”

You felt anger flare up with a cold dousing of shame. “And what—” You spat. “You do?”

“Wha—of course I do! I’ve always looked out for you! I’m your best friend!”

Bile rose in your throat. “Best friends wouldn’t flake on every single hang out to go off and spend time with their favorite noona—!”

“Don’t you dare pin this on me.”

Your eyes shot up to his.

Cold. Piercing.

So unlike the bright crescents you were used to him having around you. He used to shine in your eyes, never too bright, but in a way that demanded your attention as you basked in his almost ethereal glow.

You were reminded that the moon has phases. And maybe that meant it was time to start anew.

Even if it meant disappearing from sight.

A heavy silence passed over the two of you.

You prepared so many answers to the questions you thought he would bombard you with.

What? You were going to a prestigious international academy several thousand miles away.

When? You were leaving in two months.

How? You got a presidential scholarship.

Why? Because you loved him so much it terrified you.

You had all of these answers.

But it didn’t matter.

Because he didn’t care enough to ask.

The tears couldn’t even form in your eyes. You knew it would be selfish and manipulative if you did. He always felt responsible when you cried.

“You can’t leave,” he said.

“I’m sorry,” you said.

A lie.

“You can’t just fucking leave.”

Leaving him, the unspoken message.

“Y/N, you— ”

“Let me go. Please.”

You heard his breath hitch.

You forced yourself to smile softly at him, wanting to ignore the visceral pain in his tensed jawline, widened eyes, and clenched fist. You knew the irreversible wound you were inflicting. Your resolution almost shattered at the prospect.

Almost.

“I’ll keep in touch.”

Another lie.

“Don’t bother.”

You supposed you deserved the door slam that followed his footsteps, not even allowed to watch his retreating form.

You closed in on yourself, finally letting the tears slip down your cheeks quietly.

He would be fine.

He always was without you.

Always will be.

Only a week later, in the comfort of your childhood bedroom nestled in the midst of Busan, did you receive the news from your neighbor a few streets down.

Jihoon decided to go through with moving to Seoul to become a trainee. I hope you can come by to congratulate him! His father and I would love to have you at the party!

Questions ran through your mind.

How long has he been thinking about this? Did he ever mention wanting to become an idol? When did he even apply to become a trainee? When is he leaving? Is he cut out for trainee life? Is he going to make his own music or be forced by his company to make inauthentic music? Is he going to remember to eat his meals? Will he be okay?

You paused for a moment.

Was this because of you?

You realized it didn’t matter.

You weren’t going to get the answers you wanted.

You didn’t deserve to.

You deleted the message.

──────────────────

Years later.

“Man, fuck this thesis work.”

“Careful, if they hear you say that, they might pull your funding out from under you.”

Hyejin glared at you, her lashes unceremoniously sticking a little too high up her eyelid. You wondered whether she knew there was no point in wearing makeup everyday when her only company was her pipettes and centrifuge. “God, sometimes I wish I was in your major.”

“You would wanna read about things like depression and emotional incompetence?”

“Why not? I see it all the time in my major. God. I was at a drinking party the other day—” You winced in advance. “And I just want you to be aware that if you were to include STEM majors in your sample, your EQ mean would drop so fast.”

You hummed in acknowledgement. “Alright. Fair. To be honest, though, my research focus is mainly on the public and government’s responses to providing resources for group homes and how to make transitioning a little easier. I’m hoping to garner more attention and funding in order to do more activism. So, technically, I don’t actually measure EQ. Although, I can make guesses based on the public forums that are out there.”

“All I heard is that you’re an absolute saint.”

You laughed. “Maybe to you, unnie.”

“D’you wanna get schwasted tonight?”

“I can’t. I have book club.”

“God, you’re such a fucking nerd. Why am I friends with you again?”

“I distinctly remember you saying it was to, quote, ���ruin me.’”

“Seven years later and I still haven’t.”

“I dunno about that. I started watching that drama you recommended and my sleep schedule—”

“Isn’t it so good?”

You laughed as she started parroting off lines from the drama and you agreed after much coercion that, yes, the second-lead was indeed a better fit.

Your phone pinged beside you and you stole a quick glance. Your breath hitched as Weverse popped up on your screen. Your pulse slowed down to a normal rate when you realized the notification was from “RM 🌟”.

Maybe you should just delete the app.

You turned your attention back to the girl who was your first college roommate back at Yale, where quick introductions were made, and not a second later, began laughing at the prospect that your RAs probably put you both together for being foreign students from South Korea. 

She was much more refined back then, having already spent an entire year on her own as a Yale undergraduate, but your burning flame managed to craft something entirely new; just as she, like a river running its course, smoothed out your rough edges over time.

She led you back home.

Back to South Korea.

Back to him.

──────────────────

“You said you don’t break promises, Y/N.”

You found yourself grimacing. “Jihoon, that’s not fair—”

“Fair? Y/N, I kicked your ass at darts and now you said you wouldn’t keep your promise.”

“I don’t want my first ever tattoo to be whatever that is!”

“You pinky promised, Y/N.”

Your bottom lip jutted out. “I can’t even tell what it is.”

He stared down at the napkin he drew his artistic rendition on and then looked back at you incredulously. “It’s a firefly. Are you blind?”

You blinked. You could see the wings? Maybe? And those are lines that represent glowing? Not some weird excretion? You held your tongue and asked a more appropriate question. “Why a firefly?”

“I dunno. Seemed fitting. We always go see them together in the summer. They remind me of you. You remind me of them. That’s all, I guess.”

“Aw,” A toothy grin spread across your face. "You think I light up the night?”

“Sure, if you want.”

You could tell that Jihoon was getting embarrassed and wanted to immediately stop talking, but you being you, refused to let it happen. You piped up with your typical know-it-all attitude, “I read somewhere that fireflies represent inspiration and guidance. And hope, I think.”

He looked you straight in the eyes.

Your heart leaped into your throat.

“I guess that’s you, firefly.”

──────────────────

And here you were, in Seoul, a knowing pang in your chest that constantly reminded you of just how close he was. How your relationship always was. Close in proximity, but always left you wanting something more. Something else.

You blinked up at her, a knowing look in her eyes.

“Y/N—”

“I know,” you blurted out.

“You just look like you’re on the brink of a panic attack every time you see a Twitter or Weverse update.”

“It’s not that bad,” you grumbled.

Hyejin’s features softened.

Your chest tightened. You hated that look.

Pity.

“Actually, unnie. I’ll join you tonight. Screw book club.”

A knowing smirk spread across her lips. “Alright, bumblebee. My EQ is high enough to realize you’re running away from your issues, but it’s low enough that I won’t do anything about it.”

“I’ll add that to my data then.”

She flicked your forehead.

―――――――――――――――――

You groaned as you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, staring down at Hyejin’s bare legs wrapping themselves around your torso.

God. How much did you even drink?

You untangled yourself from her limbs, quickly checking her skin to make sure she didn’t have a repeat of three years ago when she somehow convinced you to let her get a tattoo of the two paper clips emoji on her inner bicep.

“They represent us, bumblebee.”

“How, unnie?”

“We’re like… leaning on each other.”

“That’s... so beautiful, unnie. Thank you.”

You shook your head fondly at the memory, staring at your own addition of two paper clips on the opposite bicep, sans the alcohol in your system. So, who’s to say which one of you is worse than the other?

You tried to unlock your phone but the brightness did too much damage to your eyes to where Face ID couldn’t recognize your look of disapproval. You quickly swiped the brightness all the way down to read the time.

5:43am

That meant you only slept an hour and a half after getting home.

You peeled off the skin-tight clothing your roommate had so lovingly forced you into and grabbed a loose fitting tee and shorts. You knew you had the weekend to recuperate since you’ve completed your work ahead of your deadline.

You poured yourself a glass of water and emptied it in the span of 10 seconds. You could feel your brain recovering from its shriveled state, as if the water seeped into your skull and was being soaked up. You wondered if Wheein, your ridiculously cute neuroscience major friend down the street, would be able to explain why that is.

You hummed to yourself as you grabbed another glass of water and a reusable metal straw before making your way back to your room, where Hyejin was convinced that your bed had healing properties since she never woke up with a hangover when she slept in your space.

“It’s like you just have this homey superpower.”

“Okay, unnie. Please stop eating your hair when I’m trying to feed you toast.”

You set the glass at your bedside table and decided to go through your phone’s notifications before rousing Hyejin awake.

You scrolled through the notifications, mostly people making sure that you both got home okay, Wooyoung sending you a money charge with the caption: I may have ordered you the taxi, but you’re paying for it. Love you noona xoxo

You scrolled until you saw a lone notification from Instagram (why? you haven’t posted in two weeks?) that nearly made you drop your phone in the same way your heart did.

[04:17] wzljh__ liked your post

Your hands shook as you stared at it.

You took a screenshot.

(Just in case.)

You clicked on the notification that took you straight to the post wzljh__ liked.

It was a random post from three years ago when you studied abroad in Japan during your junior year, where you were praying in front of a temple for, according to your caption, “to be able to change the world… and also get into a PhD program.”

You clicked on the usernames that indicated who liked your post. You couldn’t find the familiar handle anywhere. Secondhand embarrassment rushed through your veins and passed as quickly as it came.

You came to three conclusions at once.

1. Lee Jihoon reactivated his Instagram.

B. He didn’t block you.

III. He stalked your profile.

──────────────────

“Y/N, I really don’t think—”

“Jihoonie, I need to get more likes on my post. Therefore, I am making you this profile. You don’t even have to go on that often. Okay? You can deactivate it once I go viral enough to have the world at my disposal.”

“That’s never going to happen—”

“Believe in me more, would you?”

“Why should I?”

“Because I believe in you.”

──────────────────

Jihoon immediately reprimanded you, telling you that you didn’t need to appease anyone as a sixteen-year-old (God, he really was too mature for his own good) but your whining had him yielding once you promised that you’d catch up on One Piece over the weekend and that you would make a bento for him.

He only ever posted once (at your request), but he did like every single one of your posts back then, although, no one would know since those were all archived (for the sake of preserving your current social life by preventing the increase in Hyejin’s arsenal of embarrassing photos of you).

Only months later did you have that falling out and his deactivation quickly followed. You believed he wouldn’t ever reactivate his personal account, especially with his woozi_universefactory account set up for Pledis, which, even then, was hardly posted on.

You clicked on his profile to see the anonymous profile picture still there. You saw his followers list and saw only four names.

That once familiar wave of jealousy that plagued you for over a decade never came when you saw her name. It dissipated a few years back after a night of confessions and mascara stained tears, hushed whispers and muffled sobs tucked away in the corner of a Busan bar in the middle of winter.

You checked his following list and saw several musical artists as well as your own handle.

Wait. Where was hers?

You navigated to her page to make sure you weren’t completely delirious and your brain slowly caught up with your eyes.

He wasn’t following her.

You typed in her username to find her profile. Immediately, her beautiful smile shone brighter on the page than the dimly lit screen could do justice.

You never hated her. She was a confidant and a beloved person in your life. Still is. You were all childhood friends (along with your cousin) with deep ties and connections, although the same could not be said for you and Jihoon currently.

But you hated how it all turned out: she didn’t reciprocate feelings towards Jihoon, but didn’t have the courage to properly reject him either.

Because, who would ever want to let him go?

You did, your mind supplied.

You bit your tongue and wondered if Jihoon found out that she was proposed to by your cousin just over a month ago, the one who she spent her childhood years pining after.

Maybe that’s why he’s not following her anymore.

──────────────────

“Y/N.”

“Shh, Jihoon. I’m concentrating.”

“On what?”

“My wish!”

You felt a tug at your earlobe and your fourteen-year-old self squeaked out, “Why!”

“What’re you wishing for?”

“I can’t tell you! That’s not how wishes work…”

He let out a gruff noise and sat across from you, his bright red shorts and white shirt were definite contrasts against the dirt surrounding your two small bodies.

“I’ll tell you one of my wishes.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah. If you tell me one of yours.”

“You first.”

“Ladies first.”

“I asked and it’s only polite if you answer.”

He huffed. “You never make any sense.”

“Yes.”

He rolled his eyes before he cast his gaze down in a boyish way that was just so charming, you too had to look away. “I want the courage to be able to confess my feelings before it’s too late.”

You stared at the river and wondered whether it was deep enough to catch all the tears that wanted to spill themselves from out of you, the image of her coming to the forefront of your mind.

“Firefly?”

“Hm?”

“What about you?”

You forced a smile as your eyes met his.

“I want to be friends forever.”

You knew wishes would never come true if you said them out loud.

──────────────────

“Jesus Christ! How long have you been standing over me like a fucking creep?”

Your trip down memory lane was interrupted by Hyejin’s screeching. You promptly rolled your eyes. “Get up, Princess. I got some water for you.”

“I’m gonna spill it on my face—”

“I brought a straw too.”

“How about a diamond ring? Because if you popped the question, I’d say yes immediately.”

You resisted the urge to smack the smug grin on her face and pushed the water over to her. “You would want a diamond, wouldn’t you?”

“All-naturally mined. No lab made stuff. Spent enough time there myself. Don’t need a ring to remind me of it.”

“I’ll keep that in mind to tell Wheein—”

“Shut up.”

“You’re right. She probably already knows. Being childhood friends and all.”

“Shall I remind you of your unrequited childhood love?”

“‘S not the same,” you responded automatically. She raised an eyebrow. “Haven’t even seen him.”

“What? We rewatched their Melon performance literally two days ago, what the fuck you mean you haven’t seen—”

“I meant in person, unnie.”

She clicked her tongue. “And we went to the SEVENTEEN concert seven months ago. We would’ve gotten the fan sign too if you weren’t being so damn annoying about it.”

Your flustered response was enough to make Hyejin laugh at your expense. “I-I just wasn’t sure whether he would’ve even wanted to see me!”

She paused at your words.

You blinked owlishly at her. “What?”

“You used to say that you knew he didn’t want to see you. Now you’re not sure? What happened while I was passed out?”

You gulped.

She set her glass down quietly, a soft smile that seemed misplaced surrounded by her strained features.

“Bumblebee, take a seat.”

You promptly fell to your knees, feeling like explaining the situation would be akin to confessing your sins.

You only hoped she wouldn’t damn you to hell.

──────────────────

“Just slide into his DM’s.”

“Hell no.”

“Don’t talk to your unnie like that.”

You scoffed. “I’m not going to slide into his DM’s like some sad bitch who’s been yearning for over a decade.”

“...but isn’t that exactly what you are?”

You were so close to throwing your mimosa across the table. Too bad the American-inspired restaurant you were at only had half-off drinks during the weekday happy hour. You weren’t going to waste your full-priced flute of champagne and orange juice.

“Give me your phone.”

“No.”

“Bumblebee, I promise I won’t message him. Just give me your phone, I want to see his profile again.”

You took your pinky, made an ‘X’ over your heart with it, pressed the tip against your lips, and held it out for her to do the same.

“God, what are you, 5?”

“Pinky promises cannot be broken. If you break them, you break my trust.”

“You know, for someone who’s studied Psychology, you sure believe in a lot of non-evidence-based practices.”

You emphatically made your point by bringing your pinky closer to her. She sighed and hooked hers around yours. “Satisfied, bumbles?”

“Always, unnie. There’s something beautiful about how the biggest of promises are made with the littlest of fingers.”

The corner of her mouth quirked up at that.

She took your phone and turned it to where you could see her every move. She clicked Jihoon’s profile and went to his first and only post, already liked by your sixteen-year-old self.

She looked as though she were scrutinizing the caption. You expected her to try and formulate an idea of him that was separate from his stage persona.

What you didn’t expect was for her to unlike the post and quickly like it again.

“UNNIE!”

“Oh, bumblebee, I think you would have broken the sound barrier with how loud that was.”

You were too busy having a meltdown to realize the whispering voices around you, giving pointed looks of disdain. Hyejin smiled at everyone and bowed slightly in apology. She tossed your phone at you.

“You said you wouldn’t—”

“I didn’t message him, did I?”

Your mouth went dry while your tears welled up.

Hyejin recognized the consequences of her actions immediately. “Whoa, hey. Y/N, it’s okay. It’s okay. It’s fine.”

“You don’t get to decide if it’s fine or not.”

She flinched back at your harsh tone.

You stared blankly at the phone in front of you, the once red heart, drained white, and filled again with color in the span of a microsecond.

Your watery eyes met Hyejin’s concerned gaze.

You bit your lip. “Can you pull out your phone?”

She froze. “Why...?”

“Because I’m going to eat everything off of this brunch menu and you’re paying for it, so you’re going to have to make a transfer from your savings now.”

“...Yeah, okay. Fair.”

──────────────────

“They’re both cooked dough with butter and syrup.”

You gasped loudly. “Jihoon! Blasphemous!”

He gave you a deadpanned look. “Y/N, you mean to tell me that it’s really that important whether I decide between pancakes or waffles?”

“Waffles are obviously superior! They have little pockets that cradle the syrup, with crisp edges and fluffy insides!”

“There’s literally no one here that’s arguing against you right now.”

“I need you to agree with me!”

“No, you want me to.”

You plopped back down into the booth, shoulders slumped at a lost cause.

“...would it make you happy?”

“What?”

Jihoon cleared his throat. “I asked if it would make you happy. If I agreed that waffles are superior to pancakes.”

You stammered, a blush creeping up your neck at the question. “Uh, no. It was a dumb debate. I was just trying to be annoying. I—”

“It’s okay to let yourself be happy even over the dumb things, firefly.”

You twiddled with your thumbs and bit back the goofiest grin as you heard Jihoon call the waiter over to order your shared waffle platter, asking for, ‘enough syrup to fill each little pocket’.

You never saw Jihoon eat pancakes after that day, always opting for the obviously superior choice. 

―――――――――――――――――

The joy of eating butter and carbs and sugar from that day was not enough to sustain you through the week once you realized you had a paper deadline that was sooner than you remembered.

Your eyes ran over the words again, nearly questioning your sanity when it felt like you spent the last thirty minutes trying to reorganize your paper in a way that was cohesive. You spent so much time unlearning the APA 6th edition format to relearn the APA 7th edition, and then moving back to Korea made you throw all of that out the window. Therefore, your mind was a jumbled mess of DOI numbers and misplaced periods.

This paper was due in less than a week and you still found yourself questioning whether the literature review was comprehensive enough to cover all twenty sources you were required to include. Two pages. A list of twenty sources that took up approximately three-fourths of your second page. A singular paragraph of literature review on peer-reviewed articles studying the risk factors of suicide in Korean adolescents before needing to address implications and future research and potential programs that could address these issues.

“Nothing is real,” you muttered to yourself.

You glanced around the library and noticed a scarcity of other human beings. You groaned to yourself as you realized you hadn’t moved from your seat in over eight hours and the library was due to close in ten minutes.

You wanted to stab yourself in the neck when you remembered you still had the Social Welfare 101 class’s papers to grade. You knew that they needed feedback on their writing and you also knew they saw you as a pushover, so the papers are very likely lackluster, especially since the class was filled with people who were trying to get their Humanities credit for their degree in another field.

“Become a doctor, they said. It will be worth it, they said,” your hushed-tone almost mocking.

One of the other TAs from the Educational Psychology department had offered to take some of the grading from you, knowing that you had several large projects due soon, but you quickly brushed off the offer, saying that you could handle it.

A few stray tears slid down your face as you felt overwhelmed by the entirety of the last four years. You graduated early from Yale and dove straight into a doctoral program you could have easily put off by working for a few years.

You removed your glasses and buried your face into your hands, allowing yourself five minutes of reprieve. Just five. Before you needed to pack up and get back to work.

Why are you trying so hard to prove yourself?

──────────────────

[tw: suicide mention]

“Social work is a useless field, Y/N.”

You grit your teeth. “Eomeonim, I—”

“Did you think I wouldn’t see your interview in the school newsletter? Saying you want to go to Seoul National University and study social work? No daughter of mine is going to go into a field that has no chance of finding a job that makes money. You think that your Abeonim and I will be supporting you for the rest of your life? What will the neighbors say, huh?”

“Eomma—”

“No, you do not get to call me that, you ungrateful child. I did not work as hard as I did to put you through the additional tutoring and classes I have for you to just betray me like this.”

Bile rose up in your throat and you choked back the tears threatening to spill.

“Oh, and there she goes, being dramatic again. You don’t think I feel like crying too? You want to become a social worker? You want to help people? How can you do that when you’re so selfish?”

Your nails dug themselves into the meat of your palms, but not hard enough to cause pain, not when your nervous habit of biting them whittled them down to stubs.

“Get out. Come back when your head is clear.”

You moved, but not too hastily so as to signal her to your anxiety, for you were just a prey and she was the apex predator. You kept your gaze downcast and zipped up your designer brand backpack before looping your arms through the pristinely kept straps. Your family had a reputation throughout the town to keep. And you were the heir to it all.

All of the glamour.

All of the charisma.

All of the pressure.

All of the pride.

All of the distrust.

All of the insecurity.

All of the underlying self-hatred.

You shut the door behind you softly and wrapped your arms around you, letting your feet carry you to the one place you knew you could find solace.

Once you arrived, picking a fallen leaf off of your skirt, you knocked weakly at the window pane.

Jihoon glanced up from his desk and made his way to open it for you. “Hey, firefly.”

You quietly slipped through the frame.

“Bad day?”

“Do you ever, just, think about stopping?”

Jihoon blinked once. “Stopping what?”

“Life, I guess.”

He remained silent and he uncrossed his arms so you knew, at least physically, he was open to listening to you. This wasn’t the first time you brought up this subject to him.

“I could just end it all, Jihoon. I could just have it all be over. My parents wouldn’t have to worry anymore. They wouldn’t have to be so disgusted by the fact that they birthed such an ungrateful and selfish child.”

Jihoon breathed deeply through his nose. You knew how much it stirred up his insides whenever you talked about this, but he would reiterate that your safety was always more important than his comfort.

“I should just do it, right? That’ll prove something to them. That’ll show them that they’re not the perfect people everyone makes them out to be. They drove their daughter to this. Oh, but. They might just use it as an excuse to garner more attention. Woe is the perfect family in Busan, they struggle with loss, just like us. But… I could just end it all now. It could all be over, Jihoon. I have that power.”

“You do, firefly. You could end it all.”

Your head shot up so fast you nearly got whiplash. You were expecting soft!Jihoon, not whatever this was. You spluttered, “I’m sorry, what?”

“You’re the one who said it.”

“Are you saying I should just do it then?”

“No,” Jihoon said evenly. “I’m just saying that you do have that power. But you also have the power not to. You have the power to continue on.”

“But I don’t want to.”

“But you have to.”

“I don’t have to do anything, Jihoon!”

Jihoon clicked his tongue at your raised tone. “Whoa, hey. You’re the one who always says you have to jump through hoops in order to ‘earn’ love. I’m not the one who taught you that bullshit; go talk to your parents about that.”

“But they’re right!”

“No, they’re not.”

“Shut up! You don’t know me!”

“Y/N, I have spent more time with you than those sorry excuses of parental figures ever have!”

“Those are my parents!”

“Yeah, and they’re assholes!”

“You’re the one who doesn’t know! They’re the ones who see me, who know me best. They raised me. They know how disappointing I am. They know how useless I am. They know! They’re the ones who know just how unworthy I am!”

“God! Why do you care so much?! Why are you trying so hard to prove yourself?!”

You sucked in a sharp breath. Your bottom lip trembled as your voice came out, horribly fragile, a complete contrast to your sharp tone from just moments ago. “I… Because it’s me, Jihoon. I’m either too much for people or I’m never enough. So, I have to do everything perfectly to prove that I’m worthy. I have to be better than anyone else. Because I have to make up for the fact that it’s me.”

You were openly sobbing.

“But… you’re not better than anyone else, firefly.”

You tried to muffle your tears enough to hear Jihoon’s voice over your crying. Your eyes met his and you expected to see pity, but instead, his facial expression remained as neutral, a steadfast look in his eyes amidst all of your wavering.

“Firefly, you suck at Super Smash Bros. You’ve never won a game against me. Not even one. In like, ten whole years. Also, you’re really bad at timing when ramyeon noodles are done. You always overcook them. You cry when you see a fat seagull waddling down the shoreline. You can’t eat spicy food to save your life. You use too many emojis when you type. You can’t even jog 100m without wanting to pass out. You get so angry that you blow up at others and shame them for making you angry, but you hate it when people are mad at you. You refuse to share your food when it’s still warm, but force me to finish it when you’re full. You don’t trust others enough to do their part of the work so you never let anyone else help you. You have a nervous habit of saying stupid random facts when a pretty girl talks to you. You once poured milk before the cereal. You’re full of flaws.”

Your lips were pressed in a thin line, but the tears had ceased approximately halfway through his listing of your traits.

“You are not the best. By any means. Mediocre, even.”

“I’m kind of hurt.”

Jihoon snorted. “You don’t know everything, firefly. You’re not always going to be the smartest in the room. You’re not the best that ever existed. You never will be. But you’re never too much. And you’re always enough. And although your parents and nearly every adult in this town could think otherwise, you will meet people, people like noona, like hyung, like me, who will still care about you even when you’re being a shitty little brat like you are now. People who will still care about you even when you’re not number one.” 

“…You don’t know that.”

“Neither do you.”

──────────────────

“Do you ever think about generational trauma?”

Hyejin gave you a sideways glance. “Do we need to pull out the therapy chair and the rosé for this?”

You swatted the offer away. “I’m serious.”

“What d’you mean then, bumblebee?”

“I just think about my parents and the pressure that was probably put on them from their parents and the parents before. But with each generation, no one decided to try and break the cycle. They just kept taking their hurt and putting it onto the next. It’s just… I don’t know. It’s not just my family. It’s prevalent… everywhere. Did you know that South Korea has one of the highest rates of suicide in all of the OECD countries, second only to Lithuania? Common risk factors among adolescents tend to be academic pressure and family issues. So. I know it’s not just me. The numbers don’t lie.”

“Is this related to the paper you were working on earlier?”

You pondered for a moment. “I think researching adolescents and suicidality might’ve triggered some old memories, yeah.”

“Are you…?”

“Okay,” you finished her question. “The thoughts only come when I’m feeling overwhelmed with stuff. And it being our last semester, it’s just… a lot is being demanded of us. Classes, projects, thesis defense. I’m feeling, I dunno, a little helpless.”

“Hmm, I’m remembering some wise words from my undergraduate roommate at Yale~” Hyejin said, in a sing-song voice. “She said that the best way to stop feeling helpless is…?”

You glared.

“The best way to stop feeling helpless iiiiiis…?”

“...to ask for help.”

“Wow, right on the money.”

You decidedly messaged your fellow TA to ask them to help alleviate some of your workload to which they happily agreed.

Which you only gained the courage to ask for after a straight-winning streak in several online matches of Super Smash Ultimate.

You weren’t mediocre.

You just realized he wasn’t either.

──────────────────

Just a few days later, on a rare weekend where you managed to pull away from schoolwork, you found yourself in the attic of the group home you worked on-and-off at for the past four years, sorting through boxes of tattered toys, gathering the ones necessary to put through the washer. You laid down on the floor, the rickety boards beneath you groaning at your weight. You passively wondered whether a cartoon moment would happen and the group home inhabitants would find a you-shaped hole in their ceiling.

You reached into your own backpack and pulled out your own toy of sorts. You threw it up in the air only to let gravity do the work to bring it back into your hold. You had to be careful to not give yourself a black eye like you did a few years back.

“Whoa, you played baseball?”

You glanced at the tattered ball in your hand, the stitching almost undone, the yarn beginning to peek through. The color was no longer a pristine white, but that only proved its history of handling. “Choi Sannie, what about me says ‘athlete’?”

“Hey,” your younger coworker put his arms up in defense, fully climbing into the attic space now. “I know all of the things we have here at the home, and that is definitely not one of them. So that means that’s yours. Or you stole it—” He gasped loudly in delight. “You stole—!”

“No, dumbass.”

He deflated. He knelt down on the floor next to you, inspecting the baseball without taking it in his hands, careful to not overstep your boundaries. You taught him all about consent; Choi San was a wild child, but he knew respect. “May I see?”

You tossed it casually over to him.

“Is this handwriting? I can barely read it.”

“Even if it was brand new, I promise that handwriting would be illegible to the average person anyways.”

“You’re not average though.”

“Of course not.”

“So, what does it say?”

“Gwangan-dong, Busan, August 2.”

“Was it a gift?”

“Yeah.”

“From who?”

“An old friend.”

“Why keep it?”

You hummed softly.

“For the days that feel like I’ve lost.”

──────────────────

Lee Jihoon was a boy who demanded attention. And he always had it. But not because he would go parade and peacock around for the sake of trying to earn it. He naturally caught it, with collected looks and smooth words. Everyone in your town knew him: his ability to work hard and even more, his ability to achieve. He never needed to do anything to garner more attention because all of it was already on him. Even at the perfect attention-craving age of thirteen.

Lee Jihoon would never show off.

You had been to every single one of Jihoon’s baseball games, cheering silently when he made a great call, throwing mental expletives when things were going awry. You knew his mannerisms, his tells. Hell, you even knew the code for when the coach beckoned his players to steal a base.

So, you knew when Jihoon was showing off.

You wanted to gag at the sight of him puffing out his chest while he wore his catcher gear. You often believed him to be beyond this world but the reality quickly slapped you back as you wondered why exactly he was being so obnoxious.

Your unnie turned to you, “It’s almost over, yes?”

You wanted to laugh at the fact it seemed like she aged an additional year for every inning. “Yes, unnie.”

“I don’t understand how there’s no timer.”

“It’s done by the number of outs.”

She nodded, but you knew she didn’t actually take it in, since you repeated that fact three times over the course of the past two hours.

“Our Jihoonie’s doing well, right?”

“Yep, as per usual.”

“I really don’t understand baseball, lovebug.”

You pat her shoulder. “It’s alright. I don’t mind telling you. Although, you might want to ask oppa more about it. He knows more than I do. He messaged me and said he’ll be here in about five minutes so he can take us all out for dinner after.”

She froze. You quirked an eyebrow.

You noticed the redness creeping up her neck.

“Oh my God. Unnie! Do you like my cous—?”

Before she could say anything to defend herself, you felt the bleachers around you shift in tandem and you nearly toppled over until she caught you.

Your eyes found Jihoon, who was holding the ball that sealed their fate: they won. He won.

You saw him and his teammates gather together, his mask coming off to reveal his black hair sticking to his forehead and his ever-so-brilliant smile.

Oh no. You were so smitten.

After several moments of trying to push through the crowd, you finally reach a place where you spot Jihoon animatedly speaking to your unnie, who managed to get ahead of you by several paces.

You immediately froze.

Even from this far away, you could see his eyes clearly. Of course, you could. You were so practiced in searching for them, in times of joy, in mourning, in dancing, in sorrow. In those dark irises, swirled something so raw, your breathing became ragged. You saw the way he looked at her. You knew the look in his eyes.

Because you’d caught glimpses of it in yours in passing mirrors whenever you were with him.

How long did it take you to realize?

Suddenly, you wanted to be anywhere but there.

You rushed backwards, much easier to run away than it was to charge forth. You ran and ran and ran until you reached the back of the bleachers where you crumpled down onto your knees, effectively getting grass stains on your poor clothes.

“Mommy! Mommy! There’s someone crying!”

“Baby, no—let’s go over here.”

“She’s an ugly crier, like you!”

You cursed the fact that children were basically sober drunks and said whatever was on their mind. The fateful “u” word that repeated itself obsessively in your mind.

You thought of your unnie.

Your beautiful, elegant, sweet, soft unnie.

Of course Jihoon would prefer her.

He was pulled into her gravity with no room for resistance. His crescent smiles faced her, never to show his dark side, for she was the earth he orbited: captivating and delicate.

Why would he even care to ever look your way?

You were a given; never a prize to be sought. You were unrefined and blundering in your demeanor. You were on the crux of puberty, an awkward and horrendous time that consisted of your skin deteriorating, hormones running rampant, and just. So. Many. Emotions.

Ugly.

“Whoa, whoa, ladybug, is that you?”

You glanced up, not even bothering to wipe away the dribbling mess that was on your face. Your cousin stared in horror at your tears.

“God, you look horrible.”

A broken sob ripped through your chest and your cousin quickly realized he made a mistake. He scooped you up into his arms and held you as you cried, cried, cried.

If jealousy was the ugliest trait, you must have been downright hideous.

Later, you had your face tucked into your cousin’s chest as he apologized to Jihoon and your unnie, who both reached for you, but your cousin, in his typical knight-in-shining armor fashion, brushed them aside and pulled you closer. He convinced them that you received some off-putting remarks from your parents and didn’t want to talk about it (a regular occurrence), so he would take you back to his place to cheer you up with some Disney movies and freshly squeezed lemonade.

Your unnie offered condolences and a swift pat on your head before she called her dad to come pick her up, all of you waiting until she drove off.

Jihoon spent the time waiting listing off a myriad of your needs (“You have to make sure you have the double Kleenex, okay? The other ones leave weird fuzz on her cheeks. And don’t let her wash the dishes when she’s sad because she doesn’t realize how hot the water actually is and ends up rubbing her skin raw. And make sure you use simple syrup for the lemonade and not just sugar, she hates the crystals.”) while he packed his gear away, preparing to walk back on his own, his home not too far away from the baseball field.

You felt your cousin squirm at the prospect of Jihoon having to carry all of his gear after playing a two-hour game and having no food in his stomach. “Wait—Jihoon, I can give you a ride.”

He looked back at him, glanced at you, probably noticing the way your shoulders still trembled, and shook his head firmly.

“Here, firefly.”

Your body reacted before your mind could catch up to realize what it was doing. You saw a small object in the air, falling within your arms reach.

So, you caught it.

Your eyes trailed up to meet his, momentarily forgetting he was the sole cause of your meltdown.

His jaw clenched so hard, you cowered slightly.

“Why are you giving me this?”

You cringed at the sound of your voice, gruff and raspy.

“It’s your win today.”

You blinked rapidly. “Huh?”

Jihoon sighed and you wondered if he just considered you a petulant child.

“Even when you feel like you’ve lost, even when you feel like you have nothing to gain, just the fact that you’re still here, that’s a win. So. Scream. Cry. You can do what you want. It’s your win.”

Your gaze trailed down to the baseball, too large to wrap your fingers around entirely. It was much denser than you thought it would be, the weight foreign in your hands.

You sniffled, the corner of your mouth upturned.

Before you could say anything, Jihoon immediately turned on his heel and walked away.

You looked up and caught your cousin staring at Jihoon’s retreating form with a bemused look. 

“Alright, ladybug, let’s get you home. Your parents are probably preparing dinner right now.”

“You promised Disney and lemonade.”

Your cousin sighed dramatically. “I guess I did,” he ruffled your hair to which you let out a prolonged, annoyed groan. “Which movie?”

You pondered for a moment. “Hercules?”

You thought of Jihoon and his reputation throughout your town: attention-grabbing, diligent, admirable, heroic.

But most of all, kind.

“You got good taste, ladybug.”

──────────────────

“Does today feel like a lost day?”

You resisted the urge to mess with the singular faded green streak running through San’s hair, a test subject from when Hyejin wanted you to dye her hair, but you didn’t want to try it out on yourself nor buy a synthetic wig. A rebellious eighteen-year-old was the best option at the time. “No. It doesn’t.”

“Then why do you have this?” He inquired again.

“Because I can do what I want, San. It’s my win.”

He pulled a face of indignation at your rare (at least to him) display of childishness. Your phone pinged on top of your thigh, alerting you to its presence.

[12:42] wzljh__ liked your post

You bit back a grin, knowing San would question you endlessly if he caught it. So you tucked it away, for a later time, where you could be alone and smile as widely as you wanted to. He was getting more and more bold. Hyejin’s action, you knew, was what spurred him on. You wanted to laugh in disbelief.

Lee Jihoon was a man who demanded attention.

And he always had it.

──────────────────

“No, no. Noona, you promised.”

“I did no such thing.”

Wooyoung scoffed at your words. He pulled out his phone and his nimble thumbs quickly found what he was looking for, signified by a soft ‘ah-hah!’. “You said you would help me try and secure BTS tickets. You’re the only other person that I know that has the ARMY Membership.”

You glanced at his screen and saw your drunk state and you resisted the urge to keel over at the sight. You heard your slurred words promising the very thing Wooyoung was asking of you now. “I wasn’t sober enough to realize what I was saying. Also, what kind of person films their drunk friend and coerces them into promising to get BTS tickets?”

“I never said I was a good person, noona.”

“Ask San or Seonghwa.”

“They don’t have the ARMY Membership,” Wooyoung repeated, emphasizing the last two words. “I’m out here trying to secure the front section. It’s close enough to the stage where I can see Jimin-hyung’s sweat without the screen.”

You grimaced. “Weird ass fanboy.”

“You cannot deny that he is a beautiful man,” Wooyoung said pointedly. “Although, I assume your type is like 15cm shorter and a muscle bunny.”

“He’s only 11cm shorter, sir.”

“Okay, okay. Keep defending your boyfriend.”

You spluttered, instinctively responding with what you said for most of your middle and high school days to those around you. “He’s not my boyfriend!”

Wooyoung gave you a ‘duh’ look. “No shit. You’ve never even met him because you refuse to get the fan signing tickets because you’re a weak ass coward.”

Well. He was definitely right about one of those things. You often forget that you’ve kept your history with him private from most except Hyejin.

(And Wheein.)

(Because Hyejin told her.)

(Luckily, Wheein is a lot more considerate than her boisterous and loose-lipped counterpart.)

“Wooyoungie, you’re really not making me want to help you here, you know.”

“Noona, please.”

He looked at you with his wide brown eyes and jutted out his bottom lip. The thick black frames on the bridge of his nose gave off the impression of innocence, something you would never again associate with the young man in front of you.

His eyes lit up once he visibly saw your determination crumble.

You bit your lip. “You’re paying for this pizza. And we get pineapples on it.”

“I love you~ You are a goddess I am unworthy of even perceiving~ I worship the the ground you walk on, O sweet and kind deity~”

Your mouth twitched. “A ‘thank you’ would suffice.”

Wooyoung looked at you, a serious look in his eye, took your hand and squeezed it. He gave you a smile that almost melted away your disdain. “Thank you, noona.”

“Men like you give women trust issues.”

“Yeah, probably.”

──────────────────

“I couldn’t express my feelings because I was too young. I wanted to be your tomorrow, so I lived today. Ever since the first day I saw you until now, in my heart, it’s only you. These typical words, I’m only saying them now. But I hope these typical words will reach you. Thank you, thank you. That’s all I can say. Even all the waiting, all the longing. And all of our memories. Thank you, thank you.”

You half-hoped they would perform this song, half-hoped they wouldn’t. It rendered your heart weak, almost wringing it through with the lyrics and melody, the implication. There was a deep yearning within you that wished these lyrics could have been for you, once upon a time.

You hid yourself with a black face mask and wore a baseball cap. Hyejin told you that you were making yourself look even more conspicuous by wearing such garb, but you couldn’t risk being noticed. You wanted to see him, but in a way that didn’t require vulnerability. Plus, your tears were easier to hide.

Hyejin held your hand, her fingers intertwined with yours, the two of you uncharacteristically calm and still unlike the other CARATs around you, all of whom were cheering and swinging their lightsticks in tandem.

She gave your hand a tight squeeze.

You thought back to what was seemingly a mundane day, going on one of your grocery shopping trips at a Trader Joe’s while still living in New Haven, Connecticut.

The days leading up to your shopping trip, you were a mess of a human being, weighed down by the amount of work you still had left to complete, hardly able to be present in your own life, instead simply watching it go by. Hyejin took over your chores for the week, bought you sweets, stayed up with you even if she finished her own work, made sure to send kind text messages randomly throughout the day, and was all around the best supporter you could have asked for.

You kept apologizing to her for not being able to reciprocate, the only words that your mouth had the energy to form were, “I’m sorry.” And she would, each time, just pat your head with a soft chuckle and say, “You don’t have to keep saying that, you know. You don’t have to say that you’re sorry.”

But you weren’t sure of what you could say instead, so you said nothing at all.

Your grocery trip was made to be more of an adventurous outing that matched the energy that you were able to procure, as cooping yourself indoors only intensified your feelings of stress. However, you were on the mend from the disastrous week, as you finished up your work the day prior to your little trip to the grocery store.

(You couldn’t help but think your ability to even leave your apartment was because of Hyejin.)

After gathering all of the ingredients to cook carbonara (with extra pancetta!) and loading them up in your car, Hyejin offered to return the shopping cart to its designated location.

You saw her from afar and suddenly something overwhelmed you.

You knew what to say instead of: ‘I’m sorry.’

“Bumblebee?”

“Thank you.”

Hyejin gave you a raised eyebrow. “Yeah? Of course.”

“No, I mean...”

You paused. What did you mean?

Did you even have a right to express yourself? That’s all you seemed to do during the week and it was almost embarrassing trying to say something now. Like, this wasn’t the right time and place. The butter was melting in the car.

“Actually, never mind. Don’t worry about it.”

I couldn’t express my feelings because I was too young.

She gave a pointed look and said, “Uh. Alright.”

But something tugged at you. A gentle reminder from a gentle person with a seemingly rough personality.

These typical words, I’m only saying them now. But I hope these typical words will reach you.

If he could do it, so could you.

Before she could get into the passenger seat, you called out again, “Actually!”

She glanced your way, still visibly confused.

You took a deep breath. “Thank you for returning the cart. But, ah, more than that. Thank you for coming to the store with me. Thank you for spending time with me. Thank you for consoling me. Thank you for living with me. Thank you for being my friend. Thank you for staying by my side. Thank you for loving me.”

You couldn’t hold back your tears, so you didn’t. Your beloved friend did not fare much better.

She was in a state of what seemed like hysteria, laughing with tears streaming down her face. “What the heck, dude? What’s the matter with you? God, I love you so much.”

She took you into her arms and you both cried in the middle of a Trader Joe’s parking lot.

Your heart was filled with gratitude as the thirteen boys on stage interlocked their fingers in a pinky promise to love their fans. You mirrored the action as you took Hyejin’s pinky and interlocked yours with hers. She glanced at you and you gave a smile from behind your mask, trusting she knows what you mean. Trusting that she hears the promise you are making to her, to yourself.

Promising to always be thankful.

Promising to always love.

But if she could not hear the wordless promise echoing in your chest, you knew you would repeat it aloud to her for as long as she needed. To whoever needed it.

Because although those words may be typical, they were still worth saying.

That is a lesson an old friend taught you.

An old friend whose smile now shone as bright as the stage lights that lingered on his form.

──────────────────

Three weeks later, you were up to your neck in deadlines. You were demanded at every possible place you frequented. In the research labs, in the recruitment office, in your collective TAs room, in the group home you volunteered for.

Hypothetically, there should have been no room in your mind for Lee Jihoon.

Too bad you saw him everywhere.

Not just explicitly, like the way his idol group overtook the internet with selfies here and tweets there and ridiculous fan edit videos everywhere.

But rather, in the crevices of Seoul, in the freshly cooked rice found at your favorite family restaurant, ready to serve piping hot meals with heaping portions of a mother’s love, in the off-key melodies sung unapologetically by a circle of children in the middle of the neighborhood park, not caring who’s there to witness, performing for any and all, in the rhythm of the city thrumming beneath your soles and at your fingertips, ready to sweep you off your feet if you gave it the chance.

You saw him everywhere.

That included your notification center.

[15:32] wzljh__ commented on your post—

Your vision blurred.

Was this what cardiac arrest felt like?

A comment? A comment? You were plenty satisfied with the likes on your post, but a comment meant direct interaction, not mindless scrolling and double tapping.

The ringing in your ears was prevalent and you knew for the sake of your body and soul, you needed to shut it all away.

You pushed aside the thoughts, compartmentalized like they taught you during your clinical therapy program, and shoved your phone far into the depths of your unorganized bag.

You breathed in.

You breathed out.

You had work to do.

──────────────────

“Hey, so, it’s noona’s birthday on Sunday—” 

“I know, Jihoon, you haven’t shut up about it for the past two weeks.”

“Okay, okay. Fine. But I’ve spent so long trying to find a gift for her and I still can’t find anything. Can’t you, just like, come with me to the market for the day? I’ve never spent so much time and effort trying to find a damn gift for a birthday before. I’ll buy us dinner and we can stop by that dessert stand with the black sesame soft serve.”

“I told you. I have college prep exams I have to worry about. You want to woo her? You can. Easily. Lee Jihoon, anyone would be lucky to be loved by you.”

He breathed out a long sigh. “...thanks, firefly.”

You gave a stiff nod before walking away, the singular cardstock invitation (since you only made one for him because he teased you endlessly for your homemade invitations in the fifth-grade and you committed yourself to spite him every year from then on) you scrawled a date on in two week’s time weighing heavily in your bag. You bit your bottom lip to try and prevent the tears from slipping.

Guess your birthday wasn’t worth putting time and effort in.

At least, that’s what you thought until you found a small package in your first-year high school locker on that fateful day, in two week’s time.

Inside a poorly wrapped box, you found a card and a keychain of three tiny medals: simply drawn hands interlocking at their pinkies, the infinity symbol, and a crescent moon.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you opened the card envelope slowly, afraid your shaking hands would accidentally tear apart the paper. The card was homemade and purposefully horrendous (he claims; although, knowing his crafting skills, you weren’t so sure) with his haphazard, yet endearing scrawl.

You read the words once. Twice. Three times.

Moved them away from your eyes so the tears wouldn’t fall and smudge them.

“I saw these charms two months ago and immediately thought of you.

You said anyone would be lucky to be loved by me.

Guess you’re a pretty lucky person.

Happy birthday, firefly.

- Jihoonie

P.S. I have a sun on mine, if you end up wanting to switch.”

And so you skipped the first ten minutes of your last class to fold in on yourself in one of the second-floor girls’ bathroom stalls. You muffled your cries against your sleeve because it’s just so utterly him that you couldn’t even think straight.

When he finds you after school, eyes puffed and disheveled, you half-expected him to comfort you, because it was your birthday and, to most people, that warranted special treatment.

Instead he laughed loudly at your tattered self, pinched your reddened nose with a grip you could say bordered on assault, and said, “Come on, let’s go get some cake and ice cream. I’ll pay.”

You glared at him. “You hate cake and ice cream.”

He merely grinned at you. “Not today, I won’t. You really are lucky to have me, aren’t you?”

Even with the way he teased you relentlessly for all seven blocks to the place you frequented when your pockets were lined with allowance, the dessert shop with the fresh cream green tea cake topped with fruit you knew Jihoon was gonna take when you weren’t looking, even with his eyes filled with mischief and cheeks filled with stolen strawberries, you couldn’t help but agree.

──────────────────

“He’s been pretty bold lately.”

You cocked your head to the side as you pulled your lunchbox out onto the cafeteria table. You spread the items out in an orderly fashion and Hyejin nearly sneered at the display, but you ignored her. “Hrm? What d’you mean?”

“I mean, he’s been liking more and more of your posts. He also commented today. Isn’t that bold? Considering you haven’t spoken in years? What happens if he’s just, I dunno, playing with you?”

You bit the inside of your cheek. “Is it dumb to say that it’s just a gut instinct that everything is okay?”

“Again, what is the point of your higher education? Gut instincts aren’t exactly evidence-based.”

You unwrapped your sandwich and your eye twitched at the sauce that dribbled down. Damn. You could’ve sworn you had the right ratio this time. 

You took a bite, your tongue slipping out to catch the excess sauce. You chewed thoughtfully before swallowing. You mindlessly tapped your fingers against the bread before you spoke.

“I dunno how to explain it, unnie. I know all of my observations have been just… through likely scripted scenes and concerts. And I know it’s dumb to think that he’s still the same kid from way back when, but even seeing him interacting with his members… It just seems like he’s happy. Not just the superficial kinda happy, but the everlasting contentment and joy kinda happy. So. I don’t think he’s going to ruin that by trying to dredge up stuff that could ruin it. Or plot revenge. I just... don’t sense any ill intentions. And I never have, even when all that shit happened.”

“Hm… I honestly don’t know the guy, but it does just sound like he made one choice in an unfortunate circumstance. Big decision in the midst of big emotions,” Hyejin murmured.

“So did I,” you said pointedly.

She smirked at that. “Yeah, but you ended up with me, so I’m okay with your choice. But, also maybe, I just trust your judgment a little too much. But, if you consider him as wonderful as you say he is, then. I believe you. Plus, I feel like his lyrics and videos that I’ve seen are proof that he’s not a complete piece of shit.”

“Ah, yes. Thank you for thinking he’s not the scum of the earth.”

“Yes. Just a rung above that. If I ever meet him, I’ll definitely punch him. For your honor.”

“Hah. Thanks, unnie. I’m sure that your stick arms will do a lot of damage.”

“Of course.”

The two of you laughed.

Hyejin hummed. “Do you ever blame him?”

“For what?”

“Leaving before you.”

You raised a brow as you set your sandwich down to bring your attention to your apple slices, peeled in a way to make them look like bunny rabbits. After dunking it into some peanut butter, you decapitated its head with your teeth. “Blame is a funny thing.”

“What d’you mean by that?”

“I mean, think about it, unnie,” you began. “Do I blame him for leaving when I was the one who decided to leave first?”

Hyejin clicked her tongue. “But he left without even saying ‘goodbye’ or even warning you.”

“Mm, yeah. But... I mean, do I blame him for leaving before me when he could blame me for deciding to leave first? Or do I keep going and blame him for making me fall in love with him or could he turn that around and blame me for having feelings in the first place? Do I go further and blame him for defending me from bullies in first grade or does he blame me by trying to become friends by giving him a seashell? Do I blame him for being born or does he blame me for the same thing? Blame is an endless cycle and trying to pin the entire thing on one person or one event is hard. At least, in this instance, you know? There wasn’t a clear cut perpetrator and victim here.”

Hyejin picked at her nails. “You really have a different kinda brain, don’t you, bumblebee?”

You chuckled. “It’s gotten me this far.”

A silence fell over the two of you as you stared at your bunny apple slices, eventually fed up at the odd number of them and choosing to sacrifice one to your stomach for the sake of your peace of mind. 

After a few moments, you spoke again.

“I used to be real angry with him.”

“Yeah, you told me you used to be a fiery little thing. Plus, I heard you blow up at that student athlete who was dishing out homophobic slurs near the Student Center. When you’re angry, whew. I wouldn’t ever wanna be caught in the crossfire.”

You snorted. “Yeah, well, he would often be. I don’t think you can grow up with and know a person for, like, sixteen years and not ever be angry with them. Especially when that person is a prepubescent boy who knows all the little things that grinds your gears.”

“God forbid having feelings for men.”

“Women aren’t that much better,” you reminded Hyejin. She paused for a moment before agreeing to your sentiment. You knew too many of the silly arguments her and Wheein have had over the past two decades.

“Honestly, though. I think he’s one of the only people I ever felt safe enough to even be angry around. So, he usually got the brunt of it all. Honestly, he should’ve left me faster. I was a mess to deal with at the time.”

Hyejin pulled a face at your self-pity. You merely offered a small smile and she rolled her eyes. “So, you were still angry at him when we were at Yale?”

You swallowed another apple bunny. “Absolutely. Remember New York?”

“Which time?”

You snorted. “Specifically the one where we went during the Fourth of July. Where I had hook-ups after hook-ups and had to get a pregnancy test and an STD screening. Where we went bar-hopping literally every night because I wanted to drown in my sorrows. The one that you got on that stranger’s shoulders to shoot off an illegal firecracker.”

“The trip where you got so drunk, you screamed at a man that turned out to be a statue.”

“Hey, in my defense, he looked like an asshole.”

“I’m sure many people would agree with you that Christopher Columbus is indeed an asshole.”

You both laughed.

Your voice lowered to barely above a whisper, Hyejin physically needing to lean in to catch your words.

“I… was angry that he made promises he couldn’t keep. I was angry that he decided to walk out of my life without asking to even try. I was angry that he didn’t even care to ask why I was wanting to leave. That he didn’t care enough to want to know what I was doing. I was angry that he dropped me so fast. I was angry that he moved to Seoul as a last ‘screw you’ because he didn’t want to try and talk it out. I was angry that he was angry. But above all, I was angry at myself that it took me so long to let myself even feel the anger because I blamed myself for everything.”

You let out a shaky breath.

“At the time, I had a sixteen-year-old’s anger and heartbreak and a twenty-one-year-old’s body and ID. So, that anger manifested itself into drunken nights of hedonistic debauchery and cursing out loud for the first time ever, right at a statue of a colonizing murderer.”

You thought she would laugh at your phrasing, but instead, she merely took you in. You wanted to shrink back at her scrutinizing gaze.

“Does it still bother you?”

“...No, not really,” you admitted. “I just woke up one day and realized that I missed him so much more than I was angry at him. At me. Eventually the anger just kind of… faded. I mean, he was hurt when I left. And if he felt like I was leaving him, then it makes sense he would try to do the same in some kind of twisted adolescent retribution. I’m not saying that either of us deserved that kind of treatment, but I mean, we were sixteen and dumb. As a former sixteen-year-old, any kind of change felt like the world ending.”

“As a former sixteen-year-old, I would have to agree,” Hyejin nodded. “Do you ever regret it?”

You shoved another sliced apple into the peanut butter. This time, not picking it up. You stared down at it as you tried to formulate your thoughts. You replied softly after some time, “No.”

“Nothing?”

Your mind trailed back to the time you spent chasing your dream of studying abroad, establishing your place in the world without depending every little decision on him, running after dream after dream and fulfilling them through your own power and accord.

And you thought, as beautiful as the experiences were, you wished you could share the stories with him. He was always your best audience member, applauding your every word and exaggerated action. Sometimes laughing and jeering and heckling, but always, always, always attentive.

You chased your dreams. You always have.

All except one.

But it was okay.

Because he gave you so much more in those fleeting years than the world could ever have supplied in millions.

“No, nothing.”

────────────────── “Do you still love him?”

Hyejin watched you over the years. You grew and healed, evolved from a bumbling adolescent mess, bright-eyed and terrified, into a full-fledged woman who learned that all most had to offer was a quick fix and prolonged heartbreak. Someone who decided to be kind because she knew first-hand that the world was not. A woman who wanted to be a love letter from the universe. Someone so strong, yet so fragile to the workings of the world because you always allowed your heart to be vulnerable.

She never knew anyone who loved for the sake of loving.

Someone whose living was loving.

Not until she met you.

Your lips pressed into a thin line, but it slowly curved at the ends. “I think I always will.”

Hyejin’s heart felt constricted in her chest; she wanted to scream at you to let go and to move on. Tell you that he wasn’t worth any of the heartbreak and pain and self-doubt.

But she knew. She knew looking into your eyes, that you loved him with a love that transcended the flimsy, insecurity-driven kind portrayed in romantic comedies or Korean television dramas.

Because although she saw your eyes rimmed with unbrittled heartbreak, she also saw the gratitude that overflowed from your irises.

Part of her still wanted to berate and chastise you and tell you to just move on.

But she remembered being on the receiving end of that. How her friends reminded her that to be in an unrequited love was never worth it and that there were plenty of fish in the sea and that she needed to move on because it was just sad.

She remembered how empty that left her, wanting to fill the cracks in her heart with her beloved, because that was always what Wheein would be to her, just as Jihoon would be to you. Hyejin had the privilege to call Wheein at any time, to hear her voice lull her fears and anxieties into soft understandings and warmth, warmth, warmth.

Everyone told her to walk away from all of that.

Not you.

You were the first one to sit with her, hold her hand, smile and remind her what she already knew, a resounding truth in the depths of her soul.

And so, she sat down with you on the edge of your bed, grabbed your hand, smiled, and reminded you of one of your favorite quotes: “What a privilege it is to love.”

A tear slipped past as you beamed. “And to be loved in return.”

“Even for a moment.”

“Even if it is not how we want.”

“Because, still, it is love.”

“And it is the one thing we will never be without.”

──────────────────

“Two more months,” Wheein muttered before quickly downing her soju shot, not waiting for anyone else at the table. “Two months. And we’re done. No more needing to prepare for a thesis defense. No more needing to sit next to a centrifuge for ten hours at a time. No more needing to read bullshit and selfish opinions on public forums. No more needing to sit next to that weird dude who always smells like he has an open wound that’s infected—”

“Wheein, sweetie, that’s too graphic,” Yongsun responded, bringing her choice of a virgin cocktail up to her lips.

Wheein merely took a swig of the beer next to her.

Byul-yi shot her a glare. “That’s mine.”

“She needs it more, unnie, trust me,” you replied on her behalf. Byul-yi gave you a warning glance that wordlessly said you defended Wheein too much, especially as someone who was younger. “To be honest, I think Hyejin-unnie and I need to catch up to where Wheein-unnie is.”

“No, you need to pace yourself carefully especially with soju because you end up drinking too fast and way past your limit before you even realize.”

“Yongsun-unnie, I know we dated when I was a young and unassuming first-year doctoral student who didn’t understand how to handle her alcohol, but that was the past. Let’s move on, shall we?”

“Hyejin told me you threw up just a few weeks ago.”

“Goddamnit, Hyejin-ssi,” you hissed in mock anger.

She snorted, seeing through your ruse. “Wouldn’t have mattered if she heard from me. Byul-unnie was the one who was holding your hair at the bar, so.”

“Is this how I’m repaid by setting you two up together? The constant risk of potentially being exposed by one or the other? The betrayal. When I introduced the two of you, mere weeks after Yongsun and I broke up, and you two were blatantly flirting in front of me–”

“We were not flirting,” they chimed in unison.

The rest of the table rolled their eyes.

Wheein huffed and whined into her arms, voice muffled against the table. “Y/N, you gotta find me someone.”

“You’ll see them if you just open your eyes. I’m sure of it. They’re right there. Just look in front of you, unnie.”

Hyejin pinched your thigh but you were used to her physical torture.

Wheein groaned loudly, sitting up, but still covering her eyes with her hands. Byul-yi nodded in apology to Hyejin who merely bit her lip.

Yongsun dissipated the tension for Hyejin.

By directing it towards you.

“Y/N, I saw that you posted on Instagram yesterday. The same post from the group home you volunteer for. You were asking for the support of the community, right? And just today, I saw there were a ton of comments on their public page.”

A lump lodged itself into your throat and you stared at her, lips parting but not making any sound.

She cocked her head to the side.

Hyejin rubbed your thigh soothingly with her hand. “Bumblebee didn’t realize that they were going to get that many comments on that post. Plus, uh, I think it was shared by that one singer? Bamsu?”

“Bumzu,” you corrected weakly. Jihoon’s partner-in-crime, or rather, music production.

“Yeah, uh. Him. I guess someone who knows the group home page somehow managed to get it circulated to where he saw it, and… yeah.”

Several other research fellows messaged you privately saying how exciting it was to get the attention your project needed. Your group organizer was saying that tens of calls were coming in at a time, asking how to best provide funding or resources.

You resisted the urge to spiral into oblivion because you knew only one (1) person who would be able to do such a thing.

Bumzu had transitioned from performer to writer/producer and usually had a hand in charity work, at least, over the past couple of years, according to a quick run through his Instagram feed. He wasn’t under the scrutinizing eye of Dispatch, at least, not as much as a certain thirteen-member idol group. His interest in this program didn’t warrant sasaeng fans who would try to track down the people who made the post.

It was the perfect cover up.

It’s not as though Bumzu did anything over the top. He simply reposted the group home’s post on his story, only available for 24 hours, but even then, that was enough time to garner attention.

The group home leader called and cried to you saying that God had really blessed you all.

You wondered whether you should tell her that you didn’t think God was 164cm with moonlit eyes that haunted you in your sleep.

──────────────────

[15:32] wzljh__ commented on your post: “this is some really cool stuff. do u mind if i share this?”

[19:22] You replied to wzljh__’s comment: “👍🏼 go ahead”

──────────────────

“Noona~”

“Choi Sannie~”

“I don’t appreciate the mockery~”

“Then get your ass to work~”

San snickered before undoing your haphazardly done ponytail and threading his fingers through your badly tangled hair. “You need to calm down. You have a meeting soon and you look like an absolute mess. So, I’ll at least braid your hair for you, mmkay, noona?”

“San, if you want to reduce my stress, I would appreciate it if you could go and run through the program schedule and let me know what doesn’t work—”

He tugged on your hair and you yelped.

“Noona.”

You leaned back in your chair to see him staring down at you. You grimaced at the fact that, even from this angle, his jawline was inhumanely sharp.

“No one is expecting you to run everything. We have group organizers for a reason. You’re just here to volunteer.”

“But I want to help. I’m responsible for getting the word out there. And I want to be able to make a difference for those in group homes—”

“You did. You helped me. Now I’m in a local college. Working as a barista. Volunteering in the same home I met you in.” Before you could cut him off, San continued, “You can take a break, noona. I’ve never seen you this stressed out before. And I’ve seen you literally down an entire six-pack of banana milk after eating two chocolate croissants.”

“They’re called pain au chocolat. They have to be in the shape of crescents to be called croissants.”

“No one gives a flying shit, noona.”

You gaped at him. “San! Who taught you to speak like that?”

“You did.”

You grumbled to yourself before reaching back for your Apple Pencil. San snuck his hand over your shoulder to pluck it out of your hand. “Hey!”

“Jinwoo wants you to sing him to sleep.”

Your heart ached as you stared at the screen in front of you. There was too much work to do and you couldn’t afford—

“Are you really cost-benefiting the effects of whether you sing a child to sleep right now?”

“...”

“God, what a professional. Where’s the noona that would sneak kids out to go catch dragonflies and then eat bungeo-ppang while washing it down with banana milk?”

“Are all of your memories of me associated with banana milk?”

“I remember what I remember, noona.”

“Why don’t you sing to Jinwoo?”

“Because he’s asking for that song that you sing; the one that only you know.”

You froze.

For some reason, Jinwoo, at the ripe age of eight months, established quite clearly what he liked and disliked, with the latter list nearly double the length of the first.

Every song you sang to him had its expiration date before he would take a metaphorical red Sharpie and cross it off of his likes list.

All except one.

You cursed yourself for singing it so long ago, caught up in exhaustion that you just wanted to quell the baby’s cries as soon as possible.

And so you procured a song that was gathering dust from being long ignored in the recesses of your mind.

You locked your iPad, gathered your stuff together to put away in your bag, slung it over your shoulder and made it up the stairway to where you knew Jinwoo would be.

You found him nestled in several blankets on the floor in the room meant for three-to-six year olds, convinced that the ground would be able to keep him steady unlike the volatile day-to-day he was thrown into since birth. Most of the other kids were out at the local school, but Jinwoo had a lower constitution than them, so would often stay at home. The home did its best to ensure that his schedule was tied with the other kids, including the midday nap.

His chocolate eyes looked up at you expectantly, his arms outstretched for you to envelope him in your embrace. You couldn’t help but smile down at him and scooped him up in one fell swoop. He giggled as you spun the two of you around the room.

You swaddled him as best you could, a three-year-old much larger than the eight-month-old you once knew him to be.

His hand pressed itself against your cheek and you nuzzled your face against its warmth.

“Ready to sleep, Jinwoo?”

“Will you sing to me? The forever song?”

“Yes. Of course.”

And so you did.

You sang to him a song of hopes and dreams and the magic of forever and always. Lyrics of never-ending friendship and pinky promises.

──────────────────

May 26th.

You thought that date would forever ingrain itself as the day that he forcibly came back into your life by taking you and the rest of the world by storm alongside his group, singing of an awkward and clumsy adoration paired with a point choreography that was, well, pointing.

(At the time, you wondered whether she heard the song, the one you were sure it was written about. You never asked.)

But here you were, six years after his debut into the world as an idol, dressed in your regalia of indigo and black, full bell sleeves, velvet paneling, and a weird puffy hat to top it all off, debuting into the world as a Social Welfare PhD grad.

You were a whole ass doctor.

“WE’RE FUCKING DONE, BITCHES.”

“God, Wheein, can you calm down? We gave you that key for emergencies.”

“It’s an emergency that I don’t have a bottle of soju in my hand right now.”

Byul-yi patted Yongsun in hopes of appeasing her anger. “Remember when you finished your MBA and how that felt?”

Yongsun blinked once before pushing herself off of the couch. “Alright, so how many bottles am I pulling out?”

“Wait! Wait! Wait! We need a picture!” Hyejin chastised her childhood friend for taking off after Yongsun. “Bumblebee, come here. Wheein, you too!”

“Whose phone?” Byul-yi asked.

You all chorused your phone, handing her the latest model of iPhone. She wiggled her brows at you. “Looking for a sugar baby, mama?”

“Bold of you to assume that I’m not paying installments on that sleek piece of overpriced metal and glass.”

“Wouldn’t expect anything less from a broke grad. Alright, alright. Okay, ladies. Now let’s get in formation. Wheein, brush your hair out of your face, you look like a mad scientist. Y/N, stop furrowing your brows like you’re reading those mean comments online. Hyejin, stand up straighter, you’re slouching—probably from bending over all the time—”

“Unnie!”

“Over your centrifuge, okay? Chill. Alright. 1, 2… 2 and a half.”

“How old are you? 50?”

“Alright, for that, you just got a burst. Y/N, I hope you find the ugliest gem in that to post.”

You and Wheein laugh at Hyejin who is now putting on her face of Disapproval and you imagine that Byul-yi is just now taking an endless amount of candids. You reach for the phone, a toothy grin still spread across your lips.

“Oop! Damn, this camera is nice. Don’t get too drunk otherwise you might accidentally drop it into my purse.”

You rolled your eyes and grabbed at your phone. You swiped through the camera roll, finding too many of your face, especially when reaching for the camera, thanks to Byul-yi’s trigger happy thumb. However, you looked genuinely happy, so you couldn’t be too mad.

Maybe that’s because you were done slaving over papers and deadlines, you mused.

You showed Wheein and Hyejin the photos as well, refusing to delete the ones where Hyejin is pulling her signature face. You smiled down at your screen before pulling up Instagram to post a photo of all three of you (looking like baddies and not like the unhinged beings you usually are) on your story.

You figured you would post the professional photos you had done by Myungsoo at a later date.

You typed up a caption:

alexa, play congratulations by post malone ft. quavo 🥳🎓 #PHinisheD

You locked your phone and tucked it away, ready to simply celebrate with your beloved group of girls.

That is, until two hours passed, which included a passed out Wheein cuddling into Hyejin on the couch and a drunk Yongsun and tipsy Byul-yi retiring to their own room and you sneaking into their second bedroom. You finally saw several responses to your story, mostly clapping and fire reactions and messages of well-wishes and pride. There was one handle that immediately caught your attention and you couldn’t help but think you were predictable in where your eyes always go.

[22:06] wzljh__ replied to your story: i figured u would be a day6 or eric nam kind of fan

[22:08] wzljh__ replied to your story: sorry that was dumb of me to assume

[22:08] wzljh__ replied to your story: of course u would like post malone considering u could rap the entirety of eminems album

[22:15] wzljh__: sorry that was stupid

[22:15] wzljh__: ignore me

[22:15] wzljh__: congrats y/n

You checked the time stamps to see that the first three messages came in rapid succession. While the last three came less than ten minutes later, without the “replied to your story,” meaning he actively searched for your conversation in his DMs to send a message.

You wondered whether it was okay to respond. He initiated it, so you figured this was consensual on his end. But… would you be okay?

Lee Jihoon was the one you believed would always know how to crack the code to tear down the walls of your heart. The one for whom your heart would invite in, with offerings of warm tea and resounding laughter and requests to make himself at home in your messy, but safe, space. You were always so utterly bare in front of him that it was almost nauseating with how much trust you put into his hands.

Did he deserve that same trust after what transpired between the two of you?

Regret lives in the past. Anxiety lives in the future. But you lived in the present.

Present (tipsy) you said, “cute human messaged must respond”

You opened up the conversation. 

[23:16] You: alexa, play congratulations by day6.

[23:16] You: happy anniversary to svt!! 🥳 

[23:16] You: hope you’re having fun with the members!!

Immediately, Seen popped up on your screen.

Your breathing hitched as you saw those damned three dots. You really should ask your old Biology tutor why your chest felt as tight as it did. Or maybe Wheein would know the science as to why it felt like your brain was firing a million and one things but was also completely shut down.

[23:16] wzljh__: oh

[23:16] wzljh__: oh wow

[23:17] wzljh__: i didnt think u would know that

[23:17] wzljh__: thanks you

[23:17] wzljh__: thank uou*

[23:17] wzljh__: you* wow im genius

You giggled softly to yourself.

──────────────────

“You look like an oversized peach, but, like, not a nice one. One that fell off the kitchen counter and now has bruising forming.”

“You’re fucking rude.”

You tutted. “Jihoon, language.”

“One of these days you’re gonna drop the fuck word too.”

“Mmm. Nope.”

He grabbed at your cheek and pinched it softly. You made a dramatic display of faked annoyance. “You will. I’ll make sure of it. I’ll be the first one to hear it, alright? I’m gonna hear the fuck word from the kid that everyone else is foolish enough to believe is entirely wholesome.”

“Um? But I am? So very wholesome?”

He barked out a laugh. “Sure. You got most people convinced, but I know you. You’re too fiery for your own good.”

“Oh, so you have me all figured out, huh?”

“Of course,” he replied in English, his words laced with his thick Korean accent. “I’m genius.”

You giggled before you corrected him. “‘I’m a genius.’”

He grinned. “We both can be.”

──────────────────

[23:18] You: the other caratdeul are posting it all over twitter so it’s trending, of course i would know that 😤 i’m in touch with the insiders nowadays

[23:19] wzljh__: the other caratdeul

[23:19] wzljh__: ??

You cursed silently. Did alcohol loosen your thumbs too? Is that possible? Would you remember these questions to ask Wheein later?

[23:19] You: uh, i’m also a carat? duh? have you /seen/ jeonghan-oppa’s visuals? 😍

[23:20] wzljh__: unfortunately every day

You laughed out loud at that.

You saw the three dots come. And then disappear.

You couldn’t help the twinge of sadness that hit, but you figured that he had his own celebration to do.

That is, until a video was sent from his end five minutes later.

You swore Lee Jihoon was going to be the cause of your death one of these days. 

You clicked on the video.

“Annyeong, Y/N-ah!!”

You balked at Yoon Jeonghan’s face grinning at the camera. What the frick.

“Jihoon told me that you graduated with your PhD today! Congratulations! Hanniehae!!”

Your heart burst at the sight.

God, Jeonghan was so cute. You so desperately wanted to be his friend when you first discovered SEVENTEEN, almost more jealous of Jihoon for being surrounded by twelve other fantastic human beings rather than the other way around.

[23:28] You: omg i’m gonna cry

[23:28] You: !!!! how!!!! is he!!!! so CUTE!!!!!

[23:28] You: this is the best grad gift ever

[23:29] You: my years of indentured servitude to SNU was worth it to just bear witness to that 🥰 i can die happily now; thank you yoon jeonghan for existing

[23:30] wzljh__: um excuse me who else

[23:30] You: and to lee jihoon for the provision and distribution of content: i shall remember your services

[23:30] wzljh__: i now owe ur “jeonghan-oppa” a new lego set just for that

[23:31] You: he’s cute when he goes on vlive and builds it so just think of it as an additional gift to me, ok

[23:31] wzljh__: no.

[23:31] You: 🙄 rude

[23:31] wzljh__: u owe me too now especially since u said i gave the best grad gift ever

[23:31] You: i’m!!!!!

[23:32] You: ok so technically no one else has given me a gift yet so you were just better than nothing 🤧

[23:32] wzljh__: yes thats always my goal. to be better than nothing

[23:33] You: 😂😂😂

[23:33] You: wait!!

[23:33] You: you can’t distract me!!

[23:33] You: gifts are exchanged for the sake of selflessness and glad tidings!!

[23:34] wzljh__: thats not what u said when u guilted me into buying u the cardcaptor sakura cards because u got me plushies of the straw hat crew

[23:34] You: i didn’t GET you them! i MADE them!! my craftsmanship and time are worth much more than the ccs cards!! equivalent exchange!!

[23:34] wzljh__: god u are such a weeb

[23:34] You: if you recognize my reference you’re not so innocent yourself

[23:34] wzljh__: …

[23:34] wzljh__: damn

[23:35] wzljh__: anyway u think ur craftsmanship is worth more than the $50 i dropped on those cards?

[23:35] wzljh__: u wanna tell that to chopper whose head was too big for his body and now looks as though hes in inexplicable pain??

You stared at the screen. What?

[23:35] You: ???? pics or it didn’t happen

[23:36] wzljh__: at the dorm

[23:36] You: !!!!! you still have them with you???

[23:36] wzljh__: yea? ofc lol

[23:37] wzljh__: they may be dopey but mostly dope

[23:37] You: bihhhhh

──────────────────

“Always remember this, Y/N.”

You swallowed the handful of popcorn you so elegantly stuffed in your mouth just seconds prior. “You always do this, Jihoon. You always wait until my mouth is full—”

“Good people watch anime.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Okay?”

“I’m serious. Don’t trust anyone who says that they don’t like anime, alright?”

“What, so, that’s a requirement for whoever I’m going to be involved with in the future?”

“Yes. How can someone be a bad person when they have Monkey D. Luffy to look up to?”

“Fair, but—”

“And if the person can commit to nearly a thousand manga chapters and over eight-hundred episodes, they can commit to you.”

For some reason, his logic overtook your own. You nodded in slow agreement. “I mean. You’re not wrong.”

“Of course not.”

“So, you’re saying I’d have to find my Luffy?”

He eyed you. “I think you’re more of a Nico Robin than a Nami, honestly.”

Your stomach flipped but you brushed aside the implications of his words.

And even years later, your first-date questions always included, ‘If you were a Straw Hat member, who do you think you would be?’

You had yet to find another Zoro.

──────────────────

[23:38] wzljh__: anyway u still owe me

[23:38] You: BIHHHHHHH

[23:39] wzljh__: ill let u know by the end of the week

[23:39] You: 🥺 do i not get a choice

[23:41] wzljh__: u always have a choice 

[23:42] You: hrmmmmmm then… i shall hear you out… maybe… perhaps… mayhaps

[23:42] wzljh__: always been a poet, since that second grade writing contest, havent u

[23:43] You: me? a poet? how about i quote one of the greatest poets of our generation

[23:43] You: ‘let’s have fun’

[23:43] wzljh__: …?

[23:44] You: ‘everyone stand up and clap’

[23:44] wzljh__: ok

[23:44] You: 👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼

[23:45] You: wait

[23:45] You: that’s one too many

[23:45] wzljh__: fake fan

[23:46] You: 😢 i come here and get bullied by a member of my favorite k-pop group

[23:46] wzljh__: favorite

[23:46] wzljh__: ?*

[23:46] You: asjdkksncsls yoinks

[23:47] You: i wish i could unsend messages

[23:47] You: or go back 3 seconds in time

[23:48] You: but what if i jump forward 10 seconds..

[23:49] wzljh__: HA

[23:49] wzljh__: alright u are at least a cubic if u watch gose

[23:50] You: 💖💙 it’s what pulled me thru my thesis

[23:50] wzljh__: lololol

[23:50] wzljh__: alright alright

[23:50] wzljh__: i gotta go soon

[23:50] wzljh__: but

[23:51] wzljh__: congratulations y/n

[23:51] wzljh__: seriously

[23:51] wzljh__: u do some amazing things

[23:52] You: 🥺🥺🥺🥺

[23:52] You: thanks jihoon so do u

[23:52] You: oh wait i just remembered

[23:55] wzljh__: ?

[23:56] You: an amazing thing u did

[23:56] You: thanks for sharing the info abt the group home project!!

[23:58] You: i don’t think i can ever explain how grateful i am!! it went so smoothly because of the response from the surrounding communities

[00:00] You: and you didn’t need to share the information

[00:00] You: but you did

[00:00] You: and i just

[00:00] You: idk i’m really grateful

[00:02] You: anyway!!

[00:02] You: sorry

[00:03] You: oh wait i’m supposed to say thank you

[00:03] You: thank you thank you thank you

[00:03] You: thank you lee jihoon

[00:05] wzljh__: is it bad if i just send a 👍🏼

[00:05] You: you’re gonna ok, boomer me? and my authentic and genuine heartfelt words??

[00:06] wzljh__: 👍🏼

[00:07] You: ...i’m unsubscribing

[00:07] wzljh__: lolool

[00:07] You: 😭😭😭

[00:08] wzljh__: still a crybaby

[00:08] You: more like crylady

[00:09] wzljh__: i suggest u never say that ever again

[00:10] You: yep noted i regretted it as soon as i hit send

[00:10] wzljh__: looooollll

[00:11] wzljh__: ill let u know what i expect for my equivalent exchange

[00:12] wzljh__: i need to consult with my lawyers on what exactly i can get away with

[00:12] You: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[00:12] wzljh__: i can hear that message and i dont get how

[00:13] You: i’m gonna d word 😭

[00:13] wzljh__: not until i get my gift lol anyway ill message u by the end of the week

[00:14] You: ok 😞 fine

[00:14] You: you’ll message me?

[00:14] You: 🤙🏼?

[00:15] wzljh__: lolollllllll thats not a pinky promise emoji

[00:16] You: don’t care!!!

[00:16] wzljh__: lollll still so stubborn

[00:16] wzljh__: okay fine

[00:17] wzljh__: 🤙🏼

[00:18] wzljh__: goodnight y/n sleep well

And so you did.

You dreamt of crescent moons, steady heartbeats, gentle melodies, and open arms.

And falling, falling, falling.

──────────────────

Five weeks.

Four interviews.

Three community project ideas.

Two job offers.

One major minor meltdown.

Zero Instagram messages.

Not that it particularly mattered when your entire future was splayed out right in front of you.

“So… you either stay in Seoul…” Hyejin began.

“...or I move to New York,” you finished for her.

“...okay, but like, what is even over there?”

“Unnie.”

“I know it’s your favorite city in the world—”

“Strongly so.”

“And they have Broadway—”

“An absolute treat.”

“And you’d be lecturing at Columbia—”

“The first Social Work university in America and most prestigious school in said field.”

“But I’m not there!”

You couldn’t help but laugh at Hyejin’s pout. “Unnie, you and Wheein were already talking about living together next year because you’re both heading over to Jeju!”

“Which is the same time zone as Seoul! AKA, I can call you at any point I want—”

“We both know that’s not true even if we were in the same time zone.”

“...okay, touché. But! Are you really going to move halfway across the world? Again?”

“I enjoyed my time at Yale!”

“Bumblebee, you left Korea because you were running away from something. Someone. Are you sure you’re not leaving Korea for the same reason?”

“...Unnie, I love New York.”

──────────────────

“Doesn’t this city just reek of anxiety?”

You ignored her and instead took in the hustle and bustle of the streets around you. The neon signs of overpriced bags just begging to be haggled, the misogynistic advertisements of computer-generated women overhead, unassuming hot dog stands and bodegas whose businesses depended entirely on locals, live music found on nearly every street corner, committed to entertain in order to survive.

This city was the physical manifestation of everything right and wrong with humanity.

Bodies close. Minds worlds away.

The perfect place for someone like you.

“So full of life.”

Hyejin looked at you. Her face softened once she caught a glimpse of the glimmer of light she always saw in passing.

She hoped it would return for the long-term.

“Yeah, bumblebee. Full of life.”

She promised herself that she would take you every year from then on.

Your first trip was during the nipping frost of winter, filled with artificial twinkling and overconsumption of goods; the holiday cheer dampened by the cold reality that heartbreak and loneliness were inevitable byproducts of the season.

Your second trip was in the welcoming arms of autumn, decidedly going upstate for one day; the leaves faded into reds and golds, apples ready to be picked to be baked into a sweet pie, accompanied by the warmth of spiced cider and slow healing found in vulnerability wrapped in double crochet blankets and friendship.

Your third trip was during the sweltering heat of the summer, bad decisions and dangerous impulsivity. Late night drives of yells and whoops echoed into the Lincoln Tunnel with the wind rushing through your hair. The invincibility of youth and rekindling of the burning fire you thought was long gone.

Your fourth trip was in the blossoming of springtime, maturation of seeds sown and bountiful harvests. Gentle breezes and flowy dresses. Picnic baskets and overpriced coffees. The unspoken connection of humans collectively sitting in Central Park enjoying the gift of now, thankful to be alive.

As the seasons changed, so did you.

──────────────────

“But,” Hyejin started, exasperation already apparent in her tone. “Come on, bumblebee.”

Annoyance flared up. “What?”

“You’re thinking about running away again.”

“What are you talking about?”

Hyejin rolled her eyes at you and you could feel the simmering anger building in the pit of your stomach. You tried to quell it down with breathing, but you still felt the flames lick at your insides. “Jihoon just started messaging you again and you’re off here just thinking about fleeing the country. Again.”

“This has nothing to do with him.”

“I think it has everything to do with him.”

“I’m not some lovesick puppy who can’t make her own decisions, unnie. I applied to Columbia because I thought that it would be an amazing opportunity to be an assistant professor. Do you know how many PhD grads get to score a job like that right out of graduation?”

“Oh, yes, we get it, Y/N. You’re always cream of the crop. Top of your class. Always pursuing something bigger and better than what we mere humans can provide.”

Your jaw dropped. “What the hell?”

“You were offered a full-ride to NYU for your PhD, but you declined it because you didn’t want to, and I’m quoting you here, ‘dirty your healing place.’”

“Things change, unnie.”

“No, you’re just fucking scared.”

Rage filled you. “You don’t know me. You think you have me all figured out, but you’re just projecting onto me because you, for one, are constantly running away from your own feelings for Wheein! You wanna know who’s scared? It’s not me. Because I make my choices and I don’t regret them. Can’t say the same for yourself, huh?”

You grabbed your belongings and stomped out of your shared living space, slamming the door behind you, the beating in your chest ringing in your ears with a resounding thump, thump, thump.

Part of you wondered if the reason you snapped was because she was right.

Maybe partially.

But you also knew that you hated being carved and molded into what people perceived you as.

And she perceived you as something you were not.

Your happiness wasn’t reliant on him. You were a wholly and complete person without him. You knew that. You found that Truth long ago. You proved that through the years of work you put in; years that Hyejin witnessed herself.

So, it felt like a backhanded slap when it felt like she saw the girl you were when she first met you. As though you didn’t put in the effort to take the course of your life into your hands and crafted it to be the way that it is now.

You were a whole person.

She never said you weren’t.

You tried to pull out your car keys from your bag but struggled to find them in the midst of your frustration. You growled before giving up, stomping your way down the now dimly lit streets, the sky never quite achieving a pitch black, with the light pollution of the city. Stars were nowhere in sight, but the moon hung low near the horizon.

You found yourself walking (nearly stomping) for almost an hour as different voices argued in your mind. You were several blocks away from your home now.

She overreacted.

She’s just worried about you.

She didn’t have to be.

She probably doesn’t want you to experience the heartache that she’s seen you go through.

She was treating you like a child.

Because she loves you. And love makes you do crazy things sometimes. Like yelling at your best friend. Or flying halfway across the world.

You groaned inwardly.

God! Why did you have to have a conscience?

You said some pretty shitty things to someone who may have not portrayed her care in the best way, but tried to anyway. She gathered the courage to try and challenge you and you blew her off by rubbing salt into her own wound.

She wasn’t right.

But neither were you.

You felt the wash of shame come over you as you twiddled with your bag’s strap, trying to muster up the determination you needed to trudge back down and apologize.

“Oh, thank God, bumblebee.”

You pivoted your entire body at your unnie’s voice, wanting to shrink back at noticing the redness in her skin and puffiness under her eyes, even in the faint light of the street lamps. She looked so frazzled, her flip-flops nearly hanging off her feet from what looked like running around trying to find you. “Unnie, I—”

“I know you said you don’t like apologies, so I’ll say thank you instead. Thank you for your honesty, even if it was really mean. Thank you for listening to me, at least the beginning. Thank you for getting angry because I know that’s really fucking hard for you to do so and I feel weirdly honored but also still spooked by it. Thank you for not driving, especially this late and on a weekend when you’re upset—”

Your heart sank at the memory of Hyejin recounting her story of losing her friend to a drunk driver, something Hyejin felt immensely (and irrationally) responsible for, having been the person to last send her off.

You had forgotten about that.

Here you were, trying to figure out how you were going to apologize, and here she was, worrying about whether you were going to come back to her at all. You bit your lip before you piped up, “I’m sorry for scaring you like that.”

“Yeah, well, I was right. I learned that I never want to be caught in the crossfire. Your anger is terrifying. You’re not a bumblebee; you’re more like an agitated hornet. With a gun.”

“Unnie—”

“I’m not done. I don’t know how to process my emotions like you do so I didn’t really think before I came running after you. I’m still hurt and mad that you said all of that shit—”

“I was wrong,” you interrupted. She went quiet at that. “I don’t know everything. I hardly know anything. But what I do know is that I was wrong. I said some things that I knew were going to hurt you because that’s what I wanted to do. I was wrong. But... so were you, unnie.”

She remained silent, so you continued.

“I’m not that same, young, dumb teen that you met at Yale. I’m not the brat who was still trying to figure out how to be her own person without being an off-brand version of all of her friends from Busan. I’m… I’m not weak, unnie.”

“I… I never said you were.”

You wondered when you started crying. “Yeah, well. It felt like you didn’t believe in me. That you didn’t trust me. You are the only person in my life who saw all of the changes I went through and you still said I was running away. So, it just made me think that all of my growth was… I don’t know. Fake.”

“What? No. Oh, bumblebee. Never.”

“I’m… I’m my own person. Who can make her own decisions. I don’t need anyone else to complete me. So, there’s no one and nothing that I’m trying to run away from. I’m just trying to figure out where I want to go. Is that so bad?”

“...No. Not at all,” Hyejin answered softly. She slowly stepped towards you and tentatively wrapped her arms around your torso. You leaned in and breathed in her scent, muffling your sniffling against her shoulder. “You were right that I confused the woman you are now with the girl you were then. But I’ve never ever seen you as weak. Or incomplete. Not then, not now.”

“Then why?” You sobbed. “Why do you think my life revolves around him? Anyone else can think I’m some love-struck dumbass, but why you?”

“Oh, bumblebee, I fucked up when I said I thought it had everything to do with him. I definitely… projected. Like you said. As much as I hate to admit it. But... I also want you to know that I don’t see you as some sad girl who’s been pining after some crusty dude. I see a woman who has gone around the world, fallen in love with it and its people, and still knows exactly with whom she feels safest. And I don’t want you to deny yourself of that.”

“I’m not denying myself anything. He doesn’t love me, unnie. So, I have to be the one to do it. Because he won’t. And that’s okay. I’ve learned to love myself and isn’t that good enough?”

Hyejin squeezed you tighter in her embrace. “Call me crazy, but… I think there’s something there. Call it a spark. Call it a string of fate. Call it a grown love. But… ah. I’m not good with words like you, bumblebee. You are good enough. Just as you are. Wonderful, even. I… I’m not saying he’s a missing piece of you or anything like that. But. Agh. Like. He is bread. And you are butter. You’re both complete by nature and can exist without each other, but you’re just… better together,” she tried to hold her tongue, but you knew her resolve was weak, so you braced yourself. “Butter together.”

“...unnie, you really are bad with words.”

You yelped when she grabbed at you to pinch your thigh.

She promptly turned the two of you around back to your apartment, her arm looped around yours. You easily walked past your building, though, caught up in smoothing out the harsh lines said during your earlier conversation. She admitted her fears regarding pursuing her own unrequited love and you confessed you often chased things that were of grandeur rather than that of simplicity. And you both touched on exactly the roots of your insecurities: hers in her fear of being unwanted and yours in the idea that you were incomplete without him.

The two of you found yourselves swinging at a neighborhood park that probably closed several hours ago, but it was a safe space for the two of you, to air out the tension, to have the beginnings of healing and mending, although most of it being left to time and future efforts of rebuilding trust.

Together.

──────────────────

[19:21] wzljh__: this might be a dumb question but did ur kkt account change

[19:21] wzljh__: i tried messaging u and it said delivered but

[19:21] wzljh__: nvm u dont have to reply sorry

[19:42] You: omg

[19:42] You: jihoon i made a new account bc my username was @narutofanfreak123 and i couldn’t bear to tell people that was my username but i didn’t know how to change it LOLLL

[19:43] You: so i made a new account once i came back to korea!!

[20:01] wzljh__: i

[20:01] wzljh__: i shouldve asked

[20:02] wzljh__: i thought u werent replying because u were busy with job searching since u were posting about it on ur story

[20:02] wzljh__: or maybe u didnt want to talk to me 😣

You rubbed your eyes in disbelief.

Jihoon used an emoji?

[20:05] You: oh no lol i already got offers

[20:05] You: still deciding between two of them

[20:17] wzljh__: before u tell me whats ur username on kkt?

[20:18] You: oh yeah!

[20:18] You: oh

[20:18] You: uhhhhhhhhhhhhh

[20:18] wzljh__: ???

[20:19] You: haha

[20:19] You: ok so

[20:19] You: uh

[20:19] wzljh__: are u ok???

[20:20] You: yeah! haha

[20:20] You: welp

[20:20] You: it’s @madamefirefly

[20:20] You: heh

Lee Jihoon (@wzljh__) added you on KakaoTalk! You accepted Lee Jihoon’s request!

[20:23] Lee Jihoon: nice username

[20:23] You: thanks it was inspired by someone who used to bully me as their pastime

[20:25] Lee Jihoon: sounds like u were a masochist

[20:25] You: 🙄🙄🙄

[20:25] You: nice username

[20:25] You: sounds like it was randomly generated off of a sketchy site on naver that just so happened to have your initials

[20:26] Lee Jihoon: that ‘sketchy site’ somehow managed to predict the initials of my english stage name

[20:27] You: that was easily!!!! within your control to manipulate, woozi-ssi!! it should technically be uji!!

[20:27] Lee Jihoon: no that site knew my future and spoke to me

[20:28] Lee Jihoon: speaking of futures

[20:28] Lee Jihoon: whats coming up on the y/n agenda

[20:29] You: oop sorry hyejin-unnie is back home and i promised we would get dinner together so i might not respond until later

[20:30] You: but i’m deciding between staying here in seoul to continue the work i’ve been doing and being an assistant professor at columbia university in new york city!!

[20:30] You: although i’m def leaning more towards one than the other

[20:30] You: ack she’s yelling at me to hurry sorry i’ll ttyl!!

[Read at 20:30]

──────────────────

 Your phone rang.

You saw the FaceTime ID and never slid the bar faster than you did in that moment.

“Unnie! I—oh God, is that a wedding dress—oh my, oh no, the tears—”

One of the most beautiful laughters of your childhood rang out as she flipped the camera back to her face, stained from salty tears already passed. “Oh, lovebug—” Your lips split into a wide grin at the childhood nickname. “I think this is the one. I needed to show you. What do you think?”

“Hold on, I’m crying so hard that I can’t see—”

337.1km away, your future family member (although, one could argue she always had been) burst into a renewal of joyful tears, so exuberantly over-the-moon to share this moment with you, and you sharing the same exact sentiment to be able to bask in the joy of a promised love.

“Unnie,” you said emphatically. “You are… so beautiful. So stunning. So radiant. So dazzling. My goodness me. You are… just so splendent.”

She hiccuped. “Lovebug, no one uses that word anymore.”

“I had to go back to words of old to explain myself because language oft fails me when I see you.”

“Stop. God, you and Jihoon both with your ability to speak. How do words even come out of you two like that?”

You made a noise.

You don’t think she caught it.

“Y/N, you are sunshine personified, so to hear you say that makes me feel like I’m being blessed by Amaterasu herself.”

“I wouldn’t want to go lock myself in a cave.”

“Then don’t, lovebug,” she said dismissively. “Plus, you can’t. The bachelor and bachelorette party is gonna be in Seoul and you promised you would be there.”

“Yes, yes. To help me get blackmail on everyone else in case they try to turn on you later. You’re using me, you know?”

“You’re a useful person.”

You clicked your tongue. “So I’ve been told.”

A comfortable silence passed between the two of you before she broke it, a slight hesitation in her tone.

“So… turns out that Jihoon’s gonna be at oppa’s bachelor party. Oppa asked him to perform and he said no because of his schedule, but he said he would be at the wedding. And the bachelor party.”

You quirked an eyebrow at that. He was willingly going to the party and the wedding of the man who stole the love of his life away from him? “Really?”

“Yeah…”

“Huh. Weird.”

“I’m sorry, but he’s coming to the wedding. I know you don’t want to see him, but—”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“Uh, you literally went across the world to avoid him—”

“Why does everyone think that? No, don’t worry about me, unnie. It’s fine.”

You didn’t look directly at the screen but you could feel her stare boring into the side of your face through it. She thought you were lying. But you weren’t. It wasn’t about you.

“Lovebug—”

“He texted me.”

Your words stunned her into silence.

That is, until she went rapid-fire.

“Oh my God. What? How? When? Did you reply? Was it an emergency? Did you have a conversation? Was it a casual conversation? How long? Oh, thank goodness—”

“Whoa, whoa, chill out, unnie. Wait. Why do you look happier now than you did when you were showing me your wedding dress? Wait. Aren’t you at a boutique right now? Don’t you have your mom waiting or something—?”

“Shush, I’m asking the questions around here.”

And so, you answer them. You told your future family, your confidant, your safe space. You told her of the accidental like, the off-chance comment, the purposeful messages, and everything caught in between.

337.1km away and you felt right at home.

──────────────────

“Y/N?”

You knew that voice anywhere.

Of course she was here, of course she was. This was one of your collective dreams, two girls fantasizing about inebriated situations and uninhibited fun by means of burning liquids in a local Busan bar. A dream of spending a night here, sharing a story for every shot.

You learned a year prior that you would really only be able to tell two stories before wanting to quit.

“Oh… hey, unnie.”

“You’re… you’re back.”

You forced out a laugh. “Yeah, I, uh. Graduated.”

“From Yale.”

“Uh… yeah. From Yale.”

“Can… I sit here?”

You glanced up at her before gesturing to the seat in front of you, the corner booth really far too large for your person. You could almost see the thoughts that raced in her mind before she gave a small nod and sunk down into the cushion.

“So, how have you—”

“I heard you—”

“Oh, no, you go—”

“Oh, sorry, I just—”

You both locked eyes.

And promptly burst into a fit of laughter.

“God, what is this?” You managed to get out, holding your stomach.

She was no better, in her signature hiccuping stage. “I just—!”

“We have the communication skills of five-year-olds.”

She wiped away a stray tear. “We’ve become a drama.”

“I call being the second-male lead.”

“Wait, that’s not fair. We all know that the second-male lead is objectively better.”

“That’s exactly why, unnie,” you winked.

She scoffed. “Alright, I’ll give it to you this time, lovebug.”

You saw her freeze, as if she didn’t expect herself to call you by that nickname. She looked like a deer caught in headlights and you quickly gave her a wave of your hand. “You spent more years calling me that than you did my actual name. Let’s not break the trend now, yeah?”

She visibly relaxed and you couldn’t help but smile fondly.

A lull passed over you, but you felt much more comfortable with this silence than the strained one prior. You closed your eyes and simply took in the moment, gratitude filling your lungs.

“I’m sorry.”

Your eyes fluttered open. “What?”

“I’m sorry,” she repeated. “I’m sorry that you had to leave because of me—”

Oh.

That was heart wrenching to hear.

The apology signified a wound, an old one.

A self-inflicted one.

Oh no.

“Unnie,” you began slowly, reaching for her hands. You could see the tears brimming. “Do you… do you blame yourself for my decision? Has guilt been eating at you all of these years?”

“I just… you left. Jihoon left. If I had just said something, then—”

“Unnie.”

She bit her lip at your definitive tone.

“Nothing, nothing, about this was your fault.  Don’t get me wrong. It wasn’t mine and it wasn’t his either. We all struggled to ‘just say something’. Unnie, we were young and dumb. We still are young and dumb,” you squeezed her hands for emphasis. “If you say you’re sorry, then okay. I forgive you. But I just want you to know that past me never blamed you. Never.”

She let out a choked sob and you found yourself crossing to the other side of the table, enveloping her in your arms, tucking her head under your chin. She buried her face into your chest and you just rubbed her back soothingly. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for never reaching out. I’m sorry I never cleared the air. I’m sorry I was so scared.”

“We needed time and space apart, unnie. To figure ourselves out. And I did. I really did. And I wouldn’t have been able to do that if I kept tying my self-worth into Korea, into Busan, into you, into him. But that doesn’t mean I cut you off in order to do it. I don’t think I ever could,” you squeezed tighter. “Thank you for saying that you’re sorry, but there really is no need, not to me.”

And so she cried into your arms, emptying herself of tears. Later, you filled that space with your stories of adventure, your kind words, and your love. And she did the same for you.

In that moment, Busan never seemed so much more like home.

──────────────────

“So, New York, huh?”

You glanced up at your boss, the social worker in charge of running the different programs tied to the university, the same one who got you involved with the group home, the same one who offered you a full-time position after graduation in training new recruits, specializing in the Child and Family division, but also providing self-care guidance to the rest of the staff since your specialty in school was around Behavioral and Mental Health.

The pay was good, seeing as it was run by professionals partnered with SKY: Seoul National University, Korea University, and Yonsei University. What most Koreans would consider to be the ‘Ivy League’ of South Korea. Although, being a community leader was definitely a far-cry from a prestigious position as an assistant professor.

“Ah. Yeah, New York.”

“Nice place.”

“It’s… yeah. It’s nice.”

“Is the air better there than here?”

“No fine dust, but there’s a lot of smog.”

She pulled a displeased face. “Is that better?”

“Depends on who you ask.”

There was a pregnant pause between the two of you. You wanted to reduce into a puddle and slip through the vents, dreading this conversation.

“You should go.”

Uh. What?

You parroted those exact words out loud.

“I may have lost some of my mind’s sharpness to age and time, but if I remember correctly, New York City is one of the most popular places in the world. And I hear that it would be a good place for a young, spry lady like you to get your bright mind out there. The world needs a little more of you and if New York City is the best way to do it, so be it.”

“I’m… I’m…”

“A wonderful human being who will make the most of the hand that she’s dealt. I’ve seen you make castles out of cardboard.”

“You… you want me to go to New York?”

“Oh, Heavens no. Not at all. I would love to just keep you here forever,” she sighed, going so far as to lean back in her desk chair. You resisted the urge to laugh at her theatrics. “But you’re not a princess locked up in a tower. You have the power to make your own choice, and I know that whichever path you go down, it will be a flowery one. You’ll make it one. Because that’s just what you do, Y/N.”

“What if… What if I’m not sure?”

She tilted her head back down to meet your eyes and gave you a smile that was slightly off-putting, as though you had fallen into a trap she carefully laid out. “Then, what can I do to convince you to stay here?”

“I think a part of me thinks I’m wanting to stay here because I’ve found my home here. I think I’ve become incredibly comfortable here. In Korea.”

She blinks at you. “Is… that a bad thing?”

“I think... I think that I’m wanting to stay here because I love it here and the work I do and the people I’ve met, but I think I’m wanting to leave because I’m trying to prove that I’m not tied down to a particular person. Because I feel like everyone thinks that I can’t live my life without them, so I want to prove that I can do it. That I will.”

“So… you’re trying to prove that you’re not influenced by said person, by, uh, being influenced by said person?”

“Uh.”

“‘Uh,’ indeed.”

“What if… I’m staying here because I subconsciously think that everyone is right? That I actually can’t live without them? Not actually?”

“Is that person me?”

“No, ma’am.”

“I’m a little hurt you answered that so quickly, but. To prove my point. You are here, in my office, yes?”

“Yes…?”

“Are they?”

“No…?”

“Then. You’re living without them, aren’t you? Right here. In front of me. Heart pumping out blood through your veins and your brain shooting off neurons. You’re alive. Without them.”

“It’s… it’s a little different, Doctor, I—”

“Y/N. You’re dazzling. Almost overwhelmingly so. There is no one. No one who can overshadow you in the way you think they can. No matter what underlying influences, no matter what puppetry you may think is going on, you call the shots. You get to decide what to include in your life moving forward. If this person has as much power as you think they do over you, I’d like to meet them. Because you’re a force to be reckoned with.”

You bit your lip. “Is… Is it okay to be so selfish?”

“You said so yourself, Y/N. You found a home here. Or more like, knowing you, you built a home here. Korea will forever be marked by you. Seoul. Busan. Everywhere you’ve gone. That’s something that the majority of the world cannot say, because everyone feels a little lost, a little out of place. But you? No. You have a place. Right here. And, I mean, even at the end of the day, if you go off somewhere else, you’ll always have a place to return to that will welcome you with open arms.”

“Doctor, I…”

“Yes, Y/N?”

“...I think I wanna stay.”

“Perfect. I’ll have them write up your contract.”

──────────────────

[04:12] Lee Jihoon: i know its late. rehearsal never ends until 3am and i know that when u get texts you wake up even if ur phone is on silent bc the vibration wakes u up so im trying to type this all in one message so that it doesnt wake u up (hopefully) but i didnt want it to seem like i left u on read because i was upset or something. but i didnt want to message until i had the time to have a full conversation but i dont think thats happening any time soon anyway. when you see this i hope it makes sense im not sure if i am

[4:12] You: i still have the sleep schedule of a doctoral student, you know

[4:12] Lee Jihoon: oho i see

[4:12] Lee Jihoon: and u still owe me a gift, doctor

[4:12] You: 🥴🥴🥴 i thought you forgot

[4:12] Lee Jihoon: never

[4:13] You: ok lee jihoon, what do you want?

[4:13] Lee Jihoon: can i call u

[4:13] You: ? sure?

Before you could even type, ‘is something wrong?’, his name and profile picture (which wasn’t even of him, it was that dumb photo of Hansol) flooded your screen. Your finger slid across before you could even give a second thought.

“Um. Hello?” Silence met your ears. You wondered whether the call actually went through. You pulled the phone away from your cheek and pressed ‘speaker’. “Jihoon…?”

“Ah, sorry. Yes. Wow. Hi.”

You knew speaker was the better option. Hearing his voice that close to your ear would have given you heart palpitations, or at least, worse than what was already happening. “Yes, hello yourself. Did you need something?”

“Huh?”

“You called?”

“Oh. Yeah. No. I just. Wanted to talk.”

“About what?”

“Anything. I think staring at a screen would’ve made me fall asleep faster, but I wanted to talk. To you. If that’s okay.”

“Yeah, yeah. It’s okay.”

You heard him release a sigh of relief (?). “Yeah. Okay. Thank you.”

You hummed, realizing there was a chance he didn’t exactly prepare conversation topics. “I decided to stay in Seoul.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. My boss here convinced me.”

“Tell them thank you.”

You snorted. “It wasn’t hard to.”

“Columbia is a pretty prestigious place, though.”

“Huh. How’d you know that?”

“Might’ve asked Hansol and Jisoo-hyung.”

You clicked your tongue. “Jihoon, just because they’re American doesn’t mean—”

“Nope. That’s exactly what it means.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. “Okay, okay.”

“I’m proud of you, you know.”

“Uh—what?”

“You got a whole ass PhD. From the best university in Korea. You got offered a job at a super big school in America. One that’s super big in the field that you studied. You graduated from an even bigger school for undergrad, a school that even I know the name of. And just… I know that people expect you to achieve because you’ve always been a genius, always so brilliant, but. You also work really hard. So. I’m proud of you.”

Your throat felt tight. “It’s not that big of a deal—”

“But it is, firefly.”

Oh, that nickname. “I mean, I just—”

“You don’t have to believe me. But that won’t stop me from feeling it.”

“Jihoon, I—”

“I’ve missed you.”

Before you could even make a noise (not that you could), he continued.

“I’ve missed you a stupid amount. Like us stealing your dad’s car to drive to McDonald’s at 3am and then running a red light on the way there. And then somehow almost hitting an entire flock of seagulls. And then going to some random, deserted parking lot. And then realizing we didn’t know the way home, so we drove aimlessly for, like, 45 minutes. And then panicking when we kept seeing the gas needle go down. That kind of stupid.”

You couldn’t form words.

But you tried.

“I… I missed you too.”

You could’ve sworn you heard utter satisfaction in his voice. “I have to sleep now, but. I just. I couldn’t not tell you. That’s all.”

“Okay.”

“Get some sleep, firefly. Or should I call you, Dr. Firefly now?”

“That sounds like a cartoon villain.”

His laughter rang throughout your empty room and your chest tightened.

“Alright, we’ll go with just firefly then.”

Tears formed in your eyes at the ‘we’. You felt like you were fifteen and back in your childhood bedroom, after a long, long hours, ending your night by telling him about your day. The words you denied yourself for years tumbled out of your mouth, “Night, night, Jihoonie.”

A low chuckle met your ears.

“Sleep well, firefly.”

──────────────────

“He fucking booty called you?”

“Unnie, that’s not—”

“Nuh-uh, bumblebee. Any call past 3am is a fucking booty call.”

“So, when you called me past 3am, it was a booty call? I feel violated.”

“Time zones, Wheein. Doesn’t count,” Hyejin said dismissively.

Wheein puffed out her cheeks and stabbed the salad in front of her, piercing a lettuce leaf. You wanted to laugh at her infantile display, but you knew that would only result in her turning against you. And Hyejin was already a formidable opponent.

“He’s an idol,” you repeated for what seemed like the millionth time. “His rehearsal didn’t end until 3am.”

“He didn’t even tell you what he wanted for a gift,” Wheein interrupted.

“Yeah, what the hell is that about?” You muttered, turning back to your own plate of fries. You chewed on one thoughtfully as you made eye contact with Hyejin who gave you a deadpanned look. “What?”

“God, you two are dense, aren’t you?”

“Um, rude?”

“The phone call was the gift,” Hyejin explained.

“What a shitty gift.”

“Yeah, what? I would’ve asked for, like, Y/N’s homemade japchae.”

“Or my kimchi jjigae.”

“Or her dwaejigogi-bokkeum—wait. Stop distracting me,” Hyejin shook her head. “Regardless, bumblebee. He called you and that was his gift.”

You rolled your eyes at the ridiculous notion. “Sure, Jan.”

“Don’t make Brady Bunch references at me. We’re not American.”

“No, but we do use the internet,” you reminded her. “Anyways, it’s not that big of a deal. I’ve got other things to worry about. Like the fact that my cousin and his fiancée are coming in about a week and they want to get dinner together before they get shit-faced over the weekend. My only task is to gather blackmail material whenever the bachelorette happens with her friends.”

“Sounds like my kind of job.”

“Yes, Wheein-unnie, it really does.”

“Aren’t you gonna see him then?”

“Who? Jihoon?”

“Yeah, like. Aren’t you gonna see him next week? Isn’t he in your cousin’s bachelor party troupe or whatever the hell it’s called?”

You cocked your head to the side. “I don’t think I’ll see him? I shouldn’t see him. I think they’re gonna be in a different part of Seoul.”

“Huh. That would’ve been cool, though.”

“What?”

“You know that scene in dramas, where the main characters meet each other again for the first time in a long time and it’s all fuzzy and slow motion and there’s music playing in the background?”

“That’s—what? No. That doesn’t actually happen in real life, unnie.”

Hyejin pursed her lips. “Sure, Jan.”

──────────────────

“Ladybug!”

“Move aside, second-rate, that’s my lovebug.”

Your unnie ran into your open arms after she shoved her fiancé aside. You laughed at his crestfallen face but squeezed your future family as tight as you could. She squealed at your strength but nuzzled her face into your neck anyway.

“She’s… she’s my cousin, you know.”

“Yeah, but she chose me, which means that she likes me more. Chosen family is always better.”

“What? No—”

“She’s right, oppa,” you quipped. “Chosen family is always better. Has Lilo and Stitch taught you nothing?”

“I—you two always do this. You two always gang up on me and Jihoon, and—”

“Our table is ready, oppa. Let’s go take a seat.”

“For once, can you two listen to me, please?”

“He’s asked that before, unnie.”

“And we abided at that one time, right, lovebug?”

“Yes. He said to listen for once and we did.”

“Once only means one time, am I wrong?”

“No, unnie, you’re not.”

“God, forget it. Where’s the damn table? I need a drink.”

The two of you laughed at your cousin’s outburst and retreating figure as you both linked arms to follow after.

──────────────────

One appetizer in, you swirled the lemonade in your hands, appreciating the visible pulp as an indicator of its freshness. Your cousin, on the other hand, was several beers in, face slightly flushed, a permanent lazy grin plastered on his face.

“Wow, I’m surrounded by my two favorite girls—”

“What about your mom?”

“Or your dog?”

“Or Jennie from Blackpink?

“Or Zero Two from Darling in the FRANXX?”

“Oh God. He watched Darling in the FRANXX?”

“Ugh, yes, lovebug, let me tell you—”

“ANYWAY. YEAH. MY TWO FAVORITE GIRLS.”

The two of you snickered at his outburst. Your cousin’s phone pinged and he shielded it from you, squinting like an old man, staring at the screen with a tilted head. “Oh, hey, he’s five minutes away.”

You made an inquisitive sound. “Who?”

The two of them exchanged nervous glances, your cousin visibly swallowing.

Your unnie was the one who decided to speak up.

Because they knew you wouldn’t ever get mad at her.

Oh no.

“I know we didn’t give you the time to prepare, but we thought that you would’ve run away if we told you earlier, but Jihoon is coming here and—”

You could see her mouth move but you only heard a dull ringing.

You tried to speak, but no sound came out.

Wait.

Could you even speak? Where was your mouth again? Did it even move? What was happening? Where were you? Who were you?

“Y/N.”

You thought you felt a hand place itself on your shoulder. You turned to the sound source. “Yes?”

“Are you breathing?” “I think so.”

Your vision focused enough to recognize the looks of concern from the two seated at the booth.

Your heart sank. Oh no. Oh no.

Jihoon was going to see the two of them together, engaged.

He was going to be completely shattered.

“Lovebug, are you crying?”

“I—”

“Jihoon! Hey!” Your cousin’s voice went up several octaves from its regular position. You froze and cast your eyes downward, shrinking back as far into the seat as you could.

“Hey, hyung.”

Even the highest quality of speakers could not do this man’s voice justice, you realized.

“Oh my goodness, it’s our Jihoonie! Hi!”

You prepared yourself to hear the strain in his voice that you knew would tear you up inside.

“Hi, noona.”

Wait. What?

He spoke with such nonchalance, your head shot up in surprise.

Your breath caught in your throat.

Was your vision still fuzzy from earlier?

Did someone turn the playback speed to 0.5x?

Was that music playing?

(Shit. Hyejin was right.)

Your tongue mindlessly ran across your lips.

Oh wow.

He was really built like that, huh? His fair skin was so clear, you could have sworn there was a halo of light emitting from him. Cleanly done undercut, his ebony bangs fell messily just above his eyes, oh God, those crescent eyes, those bright, bright, bright—

Has he always looked at you like that?

“Hey, firefly.”

“Holy fuck.”

The older two gawked for a moment before your cousin began to berate you, going so far as to threaten to wash your mouth out with soap, while your unnie had her jaw dropped in horror. But you couldn’t look away from Jihoon. Surprise flitted across his face, but only for a moment. It settled into an uptilted corner of his lip and amusement dancing in his irises.

The woman before him, he only ever caught fleeting moments of. From social media posts by old friends to grainy photos from news outlets regarding your doctoral work. You were always so hard to pin down, like trying to catch a sunbeam in his hands.

You changed. So much.

You grew more into yourself, a woman you crafted with your own hands. There was a quiet confidence woven into you, so blatantly obvious, even though your current posture would convince everyone else otherwise. But he wasn’t everyone else. He could see the burning flame you’ve had since you were children, but it was more refined, more honed in, more in your control.

That made you more dangerous.

But that flustered look on your face.

Maybe you hadn’t changed too much.

And that gave him hope.

──────────────────

[끝.]

[side B: him.]

[shrinkthisviolet]

do you have any headcanons, old or new, for the kf!Barry possibility? i am so intrigued by it, fascinated even and i'm curious about your own takes, or what's the most interesting thing about it to you?

Ahh I love this question! It’s an idea I periodically get obsessed with from time to time, and I’ve talked a bit here about how I’d write it. And to expand:

I’ve never been a fan of Killer Frost’s split personality thing in the show, and it’s not comics accurate, so I’d probably do away with it. It’s just the general colder body temperature affecting his mind (chronic cold effects are terrifying, and that wouldn’t even be as bad as this, because this is inside him), not to mention his constant hunger for body heat to try to reach homeostasis (comics-based and…also, given biology, makes sense)

There’s a few different times I could give Barry powers, though I love the idea of them manifesting during s2 and him using them to defeat Zoom, freezing and shattering him to pieces

On the other hand, I also love the idea of them manifesting during s3, the way KF’s do in canon, maybe after he’s already met his frosty E2 doppelgänger. I doubt he’d team up with Savitar…unless Savitar was Iris and they became a genuine evil duo (not the leader-subordinate dynamic that Savitar and KF had in canon, but a true equal partnership)

He could also get powers in s1, and they start to affect his mind. He’s snappish, more irritable…and most of all, he doesn’t trust Eowells (especially if Iris is the Flash, and CSI Barry’s hero worship for Eowells is overridden by suspicion and worry…especially as he starts noticing more things off about Eowells)

And, to slip in a little Barrisco, I think KF!Barry and Reverb might’ve been the dynamic duo on E2. So KF!Barry on E1 might be very keen to recruit Cisco and replicate that…👀

Maybe he becomes an anti-hero like KF does in canon—still with villainous tendencies, but using them in service of the heroes (I do usually love that trope 💞)

I also have quite a few thoughts about “what if I wrote him in the Morgan AU as a spinoff AU” (4 additional headcanons for anyone interested in that):

He gets powers from the accelerator in s1, and they affect him as per the first headcanon outlined above. And, ofc, no split personality

He doesn’t fall into a coma, and instead, decides to use his powers to protect Central City. He doesn’t tell anyone—and if Iris is the Flash here, he ofc can’t tell her. While out on patrol one night, he meets a young hero who calls themself “Sentry”—definitely a kid or young adult, and definitely in need of guidance. Barry might not know how to be a hero, but he knows how to guide people. Probably (and their powers certainly make them useful…even if he’s horrified at that fleeting thought)

Barry and Morgan’s dynamic is thus pretty different. It’s less equal from the start, and it never really approaches that. Morgan looks up to him, and Barry…doesn’t quite look down on her, but as time passes, it gets close. Even as they become friends outside of their superhero identities, she’s still very much someone he needs to protect, not so much someone he can count on to protect him

He also notices some things are up with Eowells and Morgan. Some…not so great things. As time goes on, a picture starts to form in his head—abuse? Neglect specifically? Something. He’s only a CSI, he can’t investigate that…so he drops anonymous tips to CPS. Eowells gets out of all of them, and Morgan is visibly much more anxious after that, so Barry takes the hint and stops, but he’s still pissed that his effort was futile. But also…maybe it’s for the best. Where would Morgan go? Tina raised her for a little while but gave her back to Eowells, she can’t be trusted. (Maybe the only person he can trust for such a job is himself—and he should be horrified by the thought, but…he’s not)

send me an au and i’ll share 5+ headcanons about it!

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