#i spent time with my family and we said our own goodbyes to him

[gojoswhitebabydolllashes]

I REALLY WANTED TO WRITE SOMETHING BASED OFF OF THIS

THIS IS 'RED'

SO ENJOY.

-

You didn't have hair like Jean. Or that fiery look in your eyes. Your skin wasn't smooth, and you were full of flaws only Logan refused to see. You weren't used to being second. Of course, you had been second for tests in the mansion or second in the bonding activities. Professor x encouraged everyone to play despite their exhausted groans, and you've played video games where you've come second to Ororo or Scott.

But never had you thought you'd be second to Logan.

There were people who had warned you. That Logan was not ready for another relationship. But you refused to see the signs in his struggles, and despite all that you had heard of the love he had for Jean, you still loved him.

Now, sitting out in the grass crying to the sound of the crickets, you regretted your decision to love another chance. He swore up and down, left and right, that he didn't love her anymore.

But a blind man could see it. A deaf woman could hear it. And a fool could do both with ease.

You were-are-a fool for Logan. You were a massive fool for him, and you had been since you played eyes on him. Every night you'd go to bed dreaming of him and every morning you dressed to impress him and get his adoration. But no matter what you did, he still looked at Jean and soon you began to lose the hope you once had.

And every night as you dreamed of him, he was dreaming of her.

-

"YOU THINK IM SOME KIND OF FOOL?!" You spat, pointing sharply at Logan.

Defensively, he scowled and slammed his hands down on the dining table, Chittering the plates and forks.

"WHAT IS THE MATTER WITH YOU?!" His voice boomed in the walls of the house.

"WITH ME?!" You exclaimed, your lip quivering. "YOU ARE THE PROBLEM LOGAN!"

He threw his hands by his head acting defeated. "Yeah, right, because it's never your fault, is it?" He scoffed.

Never my fault. Right. But when he woke up one night and stabbed me because he thought I had kidnapped Jean, that was my fault. When he wakes up to breakfast in the morning but it Wasn't Jean that had cooked it. That's also my fault.

It's always my fault

"NOT MY FAULT? WHEN IS IT NOT MY FAULT LOGAN?! YOU ALWAYS MAKE IT MY FAULT. WHY ARE YOU SO AFRAID TO TAKE RESPONSIBILITY?!" You howled like a grieving wife.

To an outsider, it may have looked like you were screaming blue murder, weeping to the man who killed your lover. And you might have said to certain extent, the outsider is right.

"You were never there for me! Not once!"

You couldn't believe what you were hearing. After the months and months of longing and weeping, long nights of screaming and horror within you, moments when you couldn't bear to be without Logan and moments when you didn't even want to think of him. Some nights spent holding him while he sobbed her name. Hers

"Fuck you logan" you spat venom "I tried to be there for you I really did. I really fucking tried. But you are a coward. You refused to let me help you and when you asked me for help it was always for me to put on her perfume"

You almost threw up. Gripping the wood of the table as you leant on it, wood chips splintering your nails felt softer than loving Logan.

"You are so selfish!" He boomed."You are a pathetic, cowardly woman! All I want is your help!"

You slowly got off the table, with all your strength you walked for the door. "Oh your gonna leave now?!" Logan hissed

You turnt to face him. "I was really hoping I would see the best in you logan, I was really hoping that one day we could have had a family, and loved them as our own. Now I see that if we had children, while I loved them as ours, you'd loved them as yours and jean's, and I can't have that. I can't live like this. Goodbye logan. I hope I made loving me worth your time"

[lumosinlove]

Write Me In

Part Three

The next day, Leo had packed his suitcase up and double-checked that he’d entered the tiny phone numbers into his phone correctly six times. Then, with a cup of coffee made from the room’s shitty machine, he spent twenty minutes trying to draft his text to a group chat.

What did he say? What covered how he felt? Hi? This week was incredible? I don’t want to leave. I don’t want you to leave. I feel like we didn’t even say goodbye, I feel like I didn’t get to finish, when you’re back can we schedule—

And then one of the numbers was flashing up on his screen. He didn’t know which. Finn hadn’t given him names to match them to.

Leo stared at it for a good long moment, then hit answer.

“Hi—Hello?”

“Hey! Or, good morning, if you’re Logan,” Finn’s voice said. “We’re outside in the front area.”

Leo looked at himself in the mirror above his hotel room’s desk. “I—what?”

He’d assumed the car Finn had promised was going to be for him, not contain Logan and Finn.

There was a pause, and then, “Sorry I was drinking coffee. I got you one, just milk. I said we’re outside and ready. No rush. Do you need help with your things? Though it’s probably best actually that we don’t get out of the car, I see a bunch of cameras.”

“Oh,” Leo said. “I mean, no, that’s okay. I travel light, um. Okay, cool, I’ll be right down.”

“Sweet,” Finn said. “See you soon.”

Leo stared at his phone as Finn hung up. It was odd, but it wasn’t so odd. They were all going to the airport, why not go together?

Horrible, humid air hit him in the face when the hotel’s automatic doors let Leo outside. Not the nice, heavy kind that felt good on his skin. The thick, unbreathable kind. He could already tell that his hair was going to be a disaster. He let out a sigh at sweat began to prickle across the back of his neck.

“Need a taxi, sir?” asked a doorman.

“No,” Leo said. “Thanks, um, my ride is…”

Two friendly honks sounded out and Leo looked left. Through a slightly tinted window he could see Finn leaning forward between the front seats with a grin on his face and his hand on the horn.

“There,” Leo finished. He smiled at the sight. “Thanks, though.”

“Salut,” Logan said once their driver shut Leo’s door.

Leo looked between them. The car was large and spacious. Finn was next to Leo and Logan sat across from him. They both looked soft and plane-ready. Sweatpants, t-shirts. Finn had a baseball cap on that said evermore, and Logan had sunglasses pushed into his dark hair.

“Hi,” Leo said.

“Hi.” Finn held up a bag and coffee. “Muffin? They’re the best in this city.”

Leo laughed. “Wow. Yeah, thanks. Five star treatment.” He peaked inside. It smelled amazing. The coffee had just the right amount of milk.“And thanks for the ride, too. You guys didn’t have to do this, I could have found my own way.”

Logan got this beautiful sort of smile on his face. Half sweet, half disbelieving. “To Nice?”

Leo didn’t react to that right away. He was distracted by the bite he’d taken. Yeah, they’d definitely browned the butter.

Then it sunk in.

He looked at Logan. “What?”

“You were going to find your own way to my family’s house in Nice?”

Leo knew his mouth paused half way through chewing. He knew he probably looked stupid but— “What?”

“Easier if you’re with us,” Finn said. “Much easier.”

Leo looked between the two of them. “You…Wait. What?”

Finn’s eyebrows pinched together. “What?”

“I’m…” Leo swallowed, the food suddenly dry in his throat. “I’m going to Nice with you?”

“Ouais, of course,” Logan said.

Finn leaned forward. “I said we were going to Nice.”

“No, you said you were going,” Leo said.

“I said we.”

“I thought that meant you and Logan.”

“Non, we,” Logan said. “Our week isn’t done.”

“I…” Leo hesitated. “You want me to come on your vacation? That doesn’t sound very relaxing.”

Logan tilted his head at him. “How would you know? You haven’t tried it yet.”

“You…don’t want to come?” Finn glanced at Logan like he was worried.

“No, no. I mean—yeah, yes.” Leo laughed lightly. “Yes, I’d love to come, wow, thanks. I just…”

“Just what?”

“Don’t you…” Leo didn’t know how else to put it. “Don’t you want to be alone?”

Logan reached forward and put his hand in the bag on Leo’s lap, stealing a piece of his breakfast.

“Non, this one annoys me,” Logan said, and popped the piece into his mouth with a smile when Finn scoffed.

~

The house was gorgeous. It was more than gorgeous. The plane had been gorgeous. The boys had been gorgeous on the plane. Pleased with their music and their shows. Excited for the time off. Logan and his massive headphones, Finn with his nose in a book. Leo took the time to type up some more of his piece. A vacation setting change. He didn’t think he’d ever added that to a piece before.

Before he knew it, they were sitting on a cliffside terrace. There was a fire pit, unlit just then, and the sound of the waves crashing beneath them. The house was stone, the tiles terracotta and painted. It was open, one level, and seemingly perfectly suited to Logan. He looked…so good in its walls. Finn, too. Like in Finn’s apartment, Leo wanted to live in this kitchen. The fridge was stocked with cheeses and fruit. Beautiful cuts of pork and steak. The spiciest were vast, the herbs fresh or drying overhead, clipped to a delicate strand of wire above the sink. Potatoes and onions and garlic had dark, cool shelves beneath the counters. A wine fridge held ruby chilled reds and crystal whites. Looking over the sea, as they did now, the wind was heaven, warm and salty. Leo brought his Daiquiri—thank you, Finn O’Hara—to his mouth and tried to believe that he was sitting here in current company.

“You’re going to need some clothes,” Logan said suddenly. “Aren’t you?”

“I have t-shirts and shorts, if that’s what you mean.” Leo smiled. “It’s maybe the most beautiful form of summer here, but it is summer other places.”

“Swim suit?” Finn asked. He was messing around on his guitar and Leo was trying to keep how in heaven he was off his face. Finn kept playing all his favorite songs and the lyrics surged right into Leo’s head and made him wish he was a good singer.

“You got me there,” Leo said. “But if there’s a town I could go to—”

“Ouais,” Logan said—in the most enthusiastic voice Leo had heard from him yet. “I have to show you. Listen, I’m going to ruin you for other restaurants, because nothing beats Adeline’s.” Logan made a sort of adoring, scoffing sound. “C’est—It’s perfect. And we’ll buy you everything.”

“Everything? All I need is a bathing suit,” Leo laughed.

Logan looked at him for a moment, green eyes still bright, then shrugged and sipped his drink. “Well. Everything you want, then.”

As the sun began to set, Leo figured he owed Cassie a call so she could…well. Take care of everything else while Finn O’Hara made him drinks and played guitar and Logan Tremblay tried to buy him everything he wants, apparently—whatever in hell that meant—and showed him the gorgeous, sea-view bedroom he was now pacing back and forth in. He caught Finn’s loud laugh through his door and bit down on his lower lip through a smile. They probably looked amazing in the sunset. Leo wanted to write about that.

“Why are you in Logan Tremblay’s family home?” Cassie answered her phone with.

“What? How the hell did you—”

“I track you, I track your every move, Knut. Now don’t what me, you what!”

“I…” Leo pushed a hand through his hair and squinted out at the sea. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m in Nice. I thought they were flying me home, but apparently I’m…here. Coming with them.”

“Are you allowed to keep reporting? Like, is this still the job, or…”

“What else would it be?”

Cassie let out a breath that ruffled through Leo’s speaker. “I don’t know, you tell me. You all seem very…enamored, I guess.”

“Enamored.”

“Yeah, frankly.”

“You mean me,” Leo said. “Meanie.”

“I mean all three of you,” Cassie said seriously. “I’ve read the draft sections you sent me. O’Hara and Tremblay are handsy and sweet and…yeah enamored.”

We chose you.

“Cas…” Leo glanced behind him at the door. He’d told them about Cassie, that she read his work and would therefore read about them, but he still wanted to be as careful as ever until they told him otherwise. “They’re together.”

“Yeah, and someone totally wants both of them.”

“I do not—“ Leo glanced at the door again. She was in his headphones alone but he still felt the flush of nervousness through his entire body. “I don’t.”

“Okay, well, good. Because I don’t know how that ends for you, and I only want happy endings for you from now on.” Cassie was silent for a moment. “Just…I know who they are to you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, be careful. I’ve seen you heartbroken before.”

We chose you.

“I’m not going to be heartbroken. Cassie, they’re—they’re such a…thing. A unit. There’s no room for—I’m not like that for them.”

“They’re taking you on vacation. I mean…They could be alone right now and yet here you are. They obviously want something.”

“They’re…” Leo pressed a palm over his eyes, sighing. Of course he’d considered this. Thought it through, wondered why. He’d met stars like this before. He knew he was handsome. He knew his job was to make people feel intimate and connected with him. He knew sometimes it worked a little too well. “Yeah. Well, I’d never let any of my clients do something they’ll regret later. Whatever it is, a bit of a fun, a bit of…” Leo pressed his back teeth together and tried to imagine saying no if Finn and Logan offered…If they wanted to…If he was here because they liked him enough to want…what exactly?

“I won’t,” Leo said again firmly. “I won’t let anything…happen. Sometimes they just think they want me, you know it’s happened before.”

“Leo.”

“I’m professional. As a person.”

“What are you guys doing right now?”

“Having dinner on the pretty ocean.”

“What are you doing tomorrow?”

Leo bit his cheek. Dinner, swimming, shopping.

“Tell everyone I’m still working, upon request from my clients,” Leo said, and hung up.

He left his phone in his room and took a breath as he shut his door. Cassie. Cassie, Cassie. She wasn’t wrong. She loved him, he knew this, and she wasn’t wrong.

“It’s fine,” Leo said to himself. “It’s fine.”

He turned the way he had come, already drawn by the smell of the salty air from the windows.

He didn’t hear any talking as he rounded the corner, and the fire pit was empty outside. He was confused, and felt a little too alone in this grand house.

First, he noticed that the vast kitchen counter contained more than Finn’s cocktail hour fixings. Chicken breasts in butcher paper. Salt, pepper. Then he found them, tucked into a corner together.

It was a form of the kiss Leo had first seen, opening that dressing room door. A needy sort of thing. Logan had Finn by the hips, pinned against the fridge door. Finn was holding a lemon in one hand and his mostly gone drink in the other—dangerously close to spilling. Logan didn’t seem to care in the slightest. Leo caught a flash of his tongue and Finn made a sound that Leo would very much have liked him to record. The drink spilled.

Leo knew he should clear his throat. Make his presence known. Apologize, or just try to knock—or even go back to his room? But they didn’t look like they were worried about being caught.

What would happen tonight? They’d say goodnight and Leo would go to his room and they would go to theirs, and Leo wouldn’t not think about them sleeping side by side.

The bottom line was that he didn’t have anything to worry about. One look at the two of them, the way Finn’s entire body curved towards Logan, the way Logan pushed up Finn’s t-shirt hem to feel his skin, and Leo was sure they couldn’t have eyes for anyone else.

“Mm,” Finn murmured appreciatively as Logan’s teeth appeared and he—well, it certainly wasn’t a gentle bite. Everything about Logan wasn’t gentle, only, it was, really. “Logan—Leo.”

Leo took quick paces backwards and put a hand to his mouth in case he—what? What on earth sort of sound was he holding in right now?

“Okay,” he heard Finn laugh. “Okay, okay, okay, stop, I’m getting all—Lo.”

“I want you that way,” Logan’s voice said.

Okayokayokay, Leo thought. But there was no more sounds of kissing. Instead, Leo heard the sound of that lemon being cut in half.

“Do you think he likes it here?” Logan said quietly.

“Of course he does,” came Finn’s reply. “I mean, look at you. How could anyone keep their eyes off you…You’re so beautiful here, baby.”

A Logan laugh, the free one from the balcony at the bar after the show. Finn drew that sound out of him, Finn who was everything to Logan. How was it Leo had drawn it out, too?

“Do you think everything’s okay? He’s been gone for a while,” Logan said. “You’re sure he likes it here?”

Leo took one breath. Then another. He opened his bedroom door, shut it loudly, and emerged. Finn and Logan were still shoulder to shoulder, but not kissing.

Finn grinned when he saw him. “Hey.”

Logan’s eyes, already concerned from asking Finn, turned on Leo. “Is everything okay?”

Leo nodded.

You know we chose you, right?

“Yeah, yeah,” he said. He looked at the chicken breast Finn had on a fork and was moving from its wrappings to a glass bowl. He looked for other signs of a meal. Anything. Spices. Flavor. “No, good, just keeping them updated that I’m, like, you know.”

Finn laughed. “Here.”

“Yeah.” My assistant is worried about my heart and thinks you want to—We chose you.

“Is it okay?” Finn asked. “Did we get you in trouble? Because we,” he looked at Logan. “We can call someone. I’ll say, like, I’m being a difficult little rock star and made you come.”

That loosened something in Leo’s chest and he laughed, too—even with half his mind all but screaming at him to ask them what exactly he’d just witnessed. Instead, he walked further into the kitchen and offered Logan, who still looked worried, a reassuring smile.

“No,” Leo said, coming to a stop at Finn’s shoulder. “But you can tell me what the hell you’re trying to do with that.”

Finn stilled as he let the chicken drop into the bowl. “What—Oh. Um. Cook it?”

“Quoi,” Logan said, coming to Leo’s other side. “What does it look like he’s trying to do with it?”

Leo pressed his lips against a smile. “Hm.”

Finn hesitated, then offered him the bowl. “Why? Do you…”

Leo wasn’t going to get his heartbroken. He wasn’t going to break any of his rules, he wasn’t going to mistake starstruck for lovestruck. He wasn’t going to think about Logan and Finn talking about him while making out against a refrigerator. He wasn’t going to do any of those things. He would just…enjoy. Take what he thought was being given until the time came to stop. Restraint. He’d always been good at restraint.

He was going to show these boys a good dinner—and make use of a beautiful kitchen.

He gently nudged Finn out of the way and took the bowl of chicken breasts. A bit of soy sauce. He squeezed an orange over it. Salt, pepper, cumin, paprika, dill. He let it all sit and moved onto a salad and dressing. Watercress, romaine—a delicious looking purple leaf that he didn’t quite have a name for but it tasted divine.

Logan and Finn sat on the other side of the counter and watched.

“Finn,” Leo said.

“Hm,” Finn said, then looked up from Leo’s hands. “Hm, what?”

Leo smiled. “I’ll have another Daiquiri, please.”

Finn all but scrambled to comply. Leo heard the shaker going as he lay the chicken out on a sheet pan with some hot peppers and leeks. By the time it was in the oven, the salad ready to be dressed, and his counters wiped clean, Leo had a drink in his hand and a view of Logan’s bronzed skin in the sunset right beside him.

Right beside him. Logan’s bare knee against his.

“That was like magic,” Finn said as he settled down onto the couch opposite them, the sea at his back. “I’ve never seen someone do that so fast.”

Leo laughed. “I like to cook.”

“It wasn’t even in the oven yet and it smelled good,” Logan said. He leaned forward to pick from the plate of crackers, sweet apricot jam, and cheese. He was sticking mostly to the jam.

“Please tell me you don’t eat your chicken with salt and pepper only.”

Finn winced. “Guilty.”

“Sometimes we forget the pepper, I think,” Logan said.

“Oh my God.”

“We usually get something catered or we’re not even home,” Finn laughed. “I mean, greatest restaurants in the world or cooking at home?” He waved his hands like two sides of a scale.

“After this meal,” Logan said softly. “I think cooking at home.” He raised his glass to his mouth. “If Leo is there, anyway.” He mumbled something in French that Leo was pretty sure translated to something like, I’d never go out again.

“Maybe try it before you say something like that,” Leo replied in French.

Logan’s head jerked to the side to look at him. He looked like Leo had slapped him. Finn looked like Leo had presented them with some prize. A puppy or something.

“What,” Finn began to say.

“What was that?” Logan said in English.

“New Orleans, born and raised,” Leo said, grinning and taking a sip of his drink. “Might not be your French, but it’s something.”

Finn was leaning forward, nearly on the edge of his seat. He laughed and picked up his guitar. “Oh, Lo, baby, you’re loving this.”

Lo baby.

Leo had written in the piece that he sometimes thought he could feel their bond, crackling through the air. Singer, drummer. Oldest of friends. He could feel it here, too. Strongly. It settled over him like a blanket.

“Mais,” Logan was still staring at Leo, as if in a daze. “Ouais. I like being able to speak my own language.”

Leo reached for a cracker. “I thought for sure you’d hate it.”

Logan tilted his head at him. “Non. Why would I?”

“The accent, maybe?”

“Non…Non, the accent is good. Strange. But good. Really, so weird.”

“Well, shucks, thank you, Logan.”

Logan just smiled, eyes down, then stood and walked away.

Leo frowned. “What…”

“Oh, he’s fine,” Finn said from across the way. His red hair was haloed by the orange, burning sky. He looked…God, was there a word for how Finn O’Hara looked?

“Really,” Finn said. “He wants to build you a fire.”

During dinner, which they brought outside to watch the sun make its final appearance, Leo basked in Finn and Logan making a big show of enjoying the food—Finn was ridiculous, but Leo blushed anyway. Logan was quiet, but it was because he was carving bites for himself so quickly that Leo was a little worried.

“Can I ask a question?” Leo said when Logan came out with a bottle of sparkling looking wine.

Logan laughed at him and handed Finn the bottle.

“You baby,” Finn said, but Logan ignored him. “How are you afraid of champagne corks and not fire?”

“Shh, Leo has a question,” Logan said, and sat down beside him again.

“Right,” Leo said. “Yes. My job. I know. But that’s sort of what the question is about.”

“Shoot,” Finn said, his fingers expertly removing the wire from the cork. The liquid was a dark, orange-ish type that looked ice cold and refreshing—a nice contrast against the low, crackling fire Logan had stirred up. Logan and fire were made for each other. Even behind his drum kit, something was always burning, simmering beneath the surface. That was going in Leo’s story.

Finn popped the cork and rose to pour them small, slender glasses full of bubbles.

“Am I still…Is it okay for me to write the story?”

“What? Of course.” Finn handed Leo his glass, Logan his, but he didn’t return to his spot on the opposite couch.

He sat on Logan’s other side so Leo had to turn his body to face them. He tucked his long legs beneath him in the cooler night.

“Okay, I just wanted to check. Our setting changed, you’re not performing.”

“No, right,” Finn said. “But we wanted you to see this side of us.”

Leo nodded. “Yeah.” He kept nodding. “Yeah…”

All the lines he hadn’t wanted to cross, all of the worries about pushing them too far, they seemed far, far behind them. This wasn’t like any of his other stories. This felt so much closer to—to friendship. To trust. And Leo needed to know. He needed to know.

“Are you hoping, in this story, to write about your love?” Leo asked carefully. “Or, I mean, to share?”

They looked at each other. Finn’s hand found Logan’s hip, and Logan covered it with his own. Leo held his breath. He hadn’t realized how badly he wanted to write about this until now, not truly.

“Ouais,” Logan said. “Yeah.” He looked at Leo. “I told you. We chose you.”

Leo sighed out a small laugh. “Logan, I don’t know what that means.”

“We…” Finn spoke up. “He means for this story. Your writing. We chose your voice.”

Oh. Finn O’Hara, choosing his—

“Oh,” Leo whispered.

“Our music, our love, it’s the same,” Finn said. “It feeds into each other. It’s always been like that even when we didn’t…”

Logan closed his eye briefly, then looked back at Leo. And he was crying. I can’t watch what was my fault.

“We’d like to showcase that feeling, not just, like, some random picture of us holding hands or something. Your writing…Leo, reading it is as natural as breathing.” Finn’s brown eyes were syrup in this fire-dark. “Telling you about us was as natural as breathing—”

“Having you here is…” Logan cut in then stopped and looked at Finn like he hadn’t meant to, but Finn nodded. Logan put his drink down. He turned to face Leo more without dislodging Finn’s touch. “Listen. I’m not a loud person, I just play a loud instrument. But talking to you…Believe me, there is one other person I can talk to in that way, and everything I told you, he already knows.” He leaned back into Finn, who bent to press a kiss to his neck. Oh. “But…I wanted you to know and…” Logan blinked, the corners of his mouth turning down. “And I want…We want…Wondered…”

Slowly, almost as if he thought Leo could have missed it the first time, Finn, from his place tucked up against Logan’s body, placed a second kiss to Logan’s neck with his eyes on Leo.

Leo’s entire body seemed to change chemistry. Heat flooded through him so fast that he felt dizzy, his hearing cottony. His heart double-beat, sparks behind his eyes, cheeks burning. The fire was nothing.

He swallowed around a dry throat. “You…Yes. Yes, of course I’ll write it. I’m so, so happy to write it, it would, I mean.” He was stumbling over his words as hard as their first meeting. “Of course it would mean a lot to you, but it would even mean a lot to me.”

Finn smiled at him, all soft. That smile wasn’t too far from Logan’s skin. “Thank you.”

Leo just shook his head and put a hand over his pounding heart. He was happy. Thrilled. And he was also—

“Leo,” Logan said.

The way Logan Tremblay said his name. Lay-oh. Oh, he’d never get tired of it. What had he wondered? Leo felt just a little afraid.

Afraid that Cassie had been right. About it all.

“Yeah?” Leo’s voice came out a whisper. The fire snapped to their right. The ocean crashed far down below. Somewhere in the corner of Leo’s vision, a bird darted past as a shadow.

“This was a good week.”Logan’s voice was as gentle as the wind and firelight on his face. His neck was still bared, but with the hopeful, worried expression in his eyes, it looked just as sweet as anything. “The best.”

Leo could only nod. His mind was a mess of right now, last week, Cassie’s words, and Jack’s. Get the lights, would you?

Because what was happening? This was an invitation, Leo wasn’t stupid. He just didn’t know what kind of invitation it was. Because what was going to happen? Tonight would be tonight, shared and overwhelming and probably so insanely glorious Leo could hardly think about it. And then? He’d write about their love—and it would be a legendary love. Everyone would think so.

And what was he? What would he be?

He had rules, professional ones, yes. But personal ones, too. Get the lights, would you?

“Yes,” Leo said. He set his glass down and his feet back on the ground. He pushed his hair back from his hot face. It didn’t feel the same now. He could feel his throat closing. Get the lights, get the lights. “No, it has been. Truly.”

Silence from beside him. He could just see out of the corner of his eye that they were glancing at each other.

“This is a beautiful place,” Leo said quietly. He meant it. The house. The weather. But their voices were a beautiful place. Their presence was sun to bask in. Their trust for something this personal was something Leo could have walked around in all day. The sight of Finn’s lips on Logan’s neck was a quick shot of sea breeze, a warm hand on a perfect, cool marble counter.

And it was not Leo’s. None of it. And Leo didn’t know if he could make the mistake of thinking something was his when it never would be twice.

He tried not to think of Jack. As ex’s went, there was nothing loud about his horribleness. He’d just been…distant. Unwilling. He’d kiss only in darkness and walk only inches apart. And Leo couldn’t do it again.

Finn spoke first, and his voice sounded like it did when he spoke about Rooftop. “What do you…What do you feel like doing now?”

Leo drew in a shaky breath. “I, um. I think I should probably turn in.” He glanced over with a smile, not lingering long enough to really catch their faces. “But I’m looking forward to tomorrow. And…Yes. Tomorrow.”

Sometimes it felt like his words left him when he needed them most. 

“Okay,” Finn said. “Yeah, me too. We’ll show you.”

“Leo?”

Leo wanted to close his eyes. Lay-oh. It was so soft.

“Yeah?” Leo looked over finally. They were still curled together, almost holding onto each other now. For a moment, he almost forgot who they were. They were just two boys. Two unbearably perfect boys.

“Thank you for dinner,” Logan said.

“Oh.” Leo laughed a little, rubbing the back of his neck. “No. Thank you for this.” He looked out at the night sea and forced himself to stand. He took in a last lungful of sea breeze.

“Let us know if you need anything,” Logan said. “There’s towels and there’s a drawer of anything you need in the bathroom, but if something’s…missing, or if you want something, please tell me.” Logan’s green eyes looked vivid in the firelight. “Please tell us.”

“I will,” Leo said. “I…” He shivered as he stepped away from the fire. The stones were cold on his bare feet. “Good night.”

He stepped through the sliding door into the dim house. It smelled good. Piney. Like Logan.

When Leo spared a look back to the fire, their heads were bent together, two doves. A perfect fit.

[redtsundere-writes]

Jinx | Sukuna Ryomen

mmafigther!sukuna ryomen x femcoach!reader

Part 12. Between Us

Beginning. ← Previous | Next →

Sypnosis: Sukuna is a world champion with anger issues. It's believed by many that he is untrainable. Yeah, you can't train him, but you can dominate him. Contents: Fighting. Female reader being dom. Jinx AU (the BL, not the character from lol) Yuuji, Choso and Sukuna are brothers. Warnings: Cursed words, I only read it once. Word Count: 2879 words. Author's Note: 2 parts away to the end! I'm super excited for what is to come.

Btw I made a PLAYLIST

Dinner continued as night fell over the elegant panorama. Musicians continued to play all night long, waiters walked around the tables with trays laden with appetizers and people chatted pleasantly surrounded us. I was eating delicious food, drinking expensive champagne, and I was sitting between two super attractive men, what more could I ask for? Definitely a good night. His mother would sometimes give me uncomfortable looks, but Sukuna would scold her every time he caught her doing it. Choso would get me to talk about my plans once I stopped working for her brother. And Yuuji… I didn't want to talk to him after exposing myself like that in front of his family. I knew he was a big gossip, but I never thought he would reveal something like that to his parents. 

When dinner was over, his parents said goodbye to everyone and went back to their house. Or I rather say, mansion. I had discovered that the Itadori's owned a large coffee company that was distributed internationally. Now I understood why Sukuna was so spoiled, he has always had everything he wants from the cradle. Good thing Choso and Yuuji didn't turn out like him. 

“I think we are ready to leave, right, Choso?” Yuuji asked the middle brother before pulling him by the arm to the car. 

“Not so fast,” Sukuna said before pulling him towards him by the hoodie's cap. Yuuji replied to the sudden movement. “We already knew you were a shitty gossip, but today you went too far,” I scolded him while forcing him to stand in front of me. 

“Stop it, Sukuna!” Choso exclaimed to make me let go of his little brother. 

“Shut up! You know perfectly well that what he did is not right,” Sukuna barked. “Apologize to Y/n for what you said.” 

That action coming from Sukuna healed wounds in me that I didn't know were still there. I think it was the first time someone defended me like that. I was so used to always fighting for myself that I had forgotten how it felt to have someone come to my defense.  I don't know if he was doing it out of wanting to discipline his younger brother or to protect me, it was still comforting to see him act so concerned about the situation. I felt safe next to him even though he could act like a monster at times.

“I'm sorry for saying what Naoya did to you in front of everyone. It won't happen again,” Yuuji apologized, avoiding my gaze, ashamed of his actions. 

“You better keep your word,” I told him so. Sukuna would let him go. 

After a quiet ride home, Sukuna wished me goodnight and we both headed to our respective rooms. I took off the cute little girl costume I had put on as I recalled the intimate moment I had shared with Choso and how Sukuna kept nagging his family so he could have a quiet dinner. I sighed tiredly before lying face down on the big white bed. I shoved my face between the goose down pillows as I realized I had spent the whole night fantasizing about two different men. 

“What the fuck am I doing?” I scolded myself. 

Tonight I confirmed that my feelings for Choso were still there, but now they coexisted with the feelings I had for Sukuna, his own brother. What I was feeling was not right, but what could I do about it? I couldn't date both of them to find out whom I liked more. I couldn't play with them like they were plastic dolls. I also didn't want to make a pros and cons list, that seems tacky to me. I looked at the clock, it was 11 o'clock at night. I was sure Nobara was still awake. 

“Well, well… Finally, someone deigns to call me,” Nobara answered the video call. She had her hair up, a mask on her face and a loose-fitting sleep shirt. She was getting ready to go to sleep, he had caught her at a good time.

“I know, I've been busy,” I replied embarrassed. “But now I'm in the middle of a dilemma.” 

“Oh, finally, some tea!” Nobara replied. 

I told him everything that my heart wanted to let out for months. How tender, mysterious and attractive Choso was and how handsome, strong and disciplined Sukuna is. About how much I wanted to go out with Choso to coffee shops and art museums. About how much I wanted Sukuna to give me a clear sign that he liked me as a girlfriend and not as a hamster he had to protect from hawks. The mixture of love and confusion surprised Nobara with every sentence he blurted out. 

“I like them both, and I have no idea what to do,” I finished my confession. 

“Taylor Swift could write a song about it,” Nobara joked before pulling a cheeto out of the blue bag and eating it. “I don't understand why you're racking your brains when the answer is so obvious.” 

“Is it?” I asked confused. 

“Duh. I'm team Choso to death,” I answered. 

“Why?” 

“Do I really have to say it?” Nobara looked at me as if I was stupid. I just kept quiet. She sighed in exasperation and sat up straight to speak seriously. “Choso is the only one who likes you back, and you really like him too. Sukuna only likes you because you respect him a lot and not because you really want to go out with him,” she replied wisely. 

“I see…” I whispered as I realized it was true. 

When I think of Sukuna, I think of his sportswear, how great he looks boxing and how strong he looks against his opponents, but I also think of the thousands of flaws he has. He is an angry, spoiled and rude man. I could have disciplined Yuuji tonight, but he could become a thousand times worse if he set his mind to it. Even though I felt safe with him, I don't know him like I'd like to.  

“Besides, Sukuna may not be like Naoya, but it sounds like he's similar,” Nobara added. 

“You're right,” I sighed before closing my eyes. 

Since that night, I decided to stay sentimentally away from Sukuna. Every time I saw him, I thought about him with a cold head. I saw beyond my rose-colored glasses that made me drool for him. We still trained, ate and spent time together, but I avoided him at times when we could be completely alone. As the days went by I saw him less as a perfect man and more as a cranky friend. 

A month had passed since then and the big fight against Aoi Todo was just around the corner. The entire team had traveled all the way to Rio de Janeiro for the big night that awaited us. Brazil gave us a warm welcome from the moment we arrived. Paparazzi, fans, and sponsors had been bombarding us with flashing lights and posters to autograph since we arrived at the airport. Team Black had finally arrived to rule the place.

Sukuna tried to go for my face as he did every training session. I evaded him with no trouble to land a hook to the liver that knocked him back a couple of steps. After months of exhaustive training, I had already learned Sukuna's pattern of moves. He always goes for the killing blow first, then low attacks and again, tries to knock me out. It's a pattern that repeats over and over again with a variation that occasionally catches me off guard. 

“Keep your guard up!” Gojo shouted at me from the side of the ring. 

I put my arms up to cover my face better. Yuuji and Nanami were watching us fight with Gojo. We were waiting patiently at the UFC offices to be called for the official weigh-in. We knew perfectly well that Sukuna was at his ideal weight, but we had to find out if Aoi Todo was. Being the heavyweight champion wanting to compete for the light heavyweight title, it meant he had to lose at least 22 pounds for the fight to be held fairly. 

Sukuna sent me to the corner with a single jab. I tried to recover, but he was already on top of me, busting me with punches until I reached my limit. I could only keep my guard up until he got tired and opened a door of opportunity. What I didn't count on was that I got a hook to the tit. 

“Oh, son of a bitch! I screamed in pain while I pushed him to let myself rest for a second. 

“I wanted to hit you in the stomach, but since you are smaller, I didn't hit you where I wanted to,” he explained with an evil smile. “That’s some bullshit,” I thought.  

“Sukuna Ryomen, you can go to the office,” a UFC assistant announced. 

“Saved by the bell,” Sukuna said before taking off his gloves. I flipped him off as I took off one of mine. 

The entire team made their way to the office where the official judges and the referee who would be in charge of the fight were waiting for us. The process was simple. They would just weigh the fighters, recite the official rules to both of them, and we could go back to the hotel to prepare for the weigh-in. We had done this several times before, there was nothing to be surprised about. 

“Hello, Sukuna,” Yuki Tsukumo greeted us with a big smile as soon as we entered the office. 

Sukuna, Yuuji and I froze when we saw her next to Aoi Todo. This had to be a fucking sick joke. She was the coach of our new opponent? This only meant bad news. Sukuna completely ignored her to greet the judges, referee and Todo. 

“Good to see you again, Snake,” Yuki greeted me directly while Aoi was weighed on a professional scale. 

“Why didn't you tell me you were Aoi's coach?” I asked her while the judges were taking the necessary measurements for the data sample. 

“Was I supposed to?” She asked pretending to be confused. 

It was Sukuna's turn. He took off his shirt and shoes to weigh himself. I hated to admit it, but it was an amazing sight. Even though I had seen it several times before, I couldn't get used to it. I tried to look away so that my cupid thoughts wouldn’t take possession of my body. 

“How is your brother?” Yuki asked him to obviously annoy him. Sukuna gave him a whiplash with his gaze for even having the nerve to mention his little brother. 

“He's fine,” I answered for him so he wouldn't get in trouble in front of the judges. “Great, I'd say,” I said with a mischievous smile. 

After the judges recited the rules and both fighters agreed, both teams left the office with a tense air following us closely. Team Black began to leave the scene to return to the hotel after an exhaustive morning training and Todo’s gym went to the gym.  

“I hope we have a good fight!” Todo said to Sukuna while shaking his hand. 

Todo was friendlier than I imagined. He had a nice smile all the time, was kind to everyone and had an overall good vibe, unlike his coach. Now I understood why Toji Fushiguro wanted to leave the stage, so fighters like Sukuna or Todo could shine. Todo's team continued on their way to the gym, but Yuki stayed behind. 

“It's good to see you again, how long has it been since we've seen each other? 2 years?” Yuki asked him, ignoring the rest of her team to focus on Sukuna. She wanted to provoke him, I was sure of that. 

“Why don't you go ahead? I have to talk to her,” I said to Sukuna as I stepped between them to distance them. 

“Don't do anything stupid,” Sukuna whispered to me before walking away from us. 

“I would really appreciate it if you would leave my athlete alone,” I said to Yuki once my team had left the hallway. 

“I don't think it's a sin to want to say hello to him,” she said as she crossed her arms in front of her chest. 

“You know perfectly well that he doesn't want to greet you after what you did,” I said. 

“So he told you. Did you really believe him?” Yuki asked me in disbelief. 

“Well, Sukuna's version makes you look like a gold digger and Choso's version makes you look like a whore, which one do you prefer?” I asked defensively. 

“I thought you would understand me. You know how hard it is to enter this world as a woman. I needed that job,” Yuki explained, making it clear that Sukuna's version of the story was the truth.

I knew better than anyone that the world of mixed martial arts was complicated for a woman to navigate in. There are perverts everywhere, the other fighters don't take you seriously and the coaches are harder on you. It's a world plagued by men who only see you as a small insignificant being, just because you can't compete directly against them. Women fighters have to work twice as hard as men to secure a place in the industry. 

“It's difficult but not impossible. Did you really have to pick on his brother to prove your worth? You only made yourself worse,” I asked, annoyed. 

“How sad to see you've changed, Snake,” Yuki sighed. “Who knew? One day you're on top and the next you're working for an idiot like Sukuna Ryomen. Weren't you supposed to hate fighters like him?” she said before wanting to withdraw from the conversation, but she was very wrong if she thought I would let her have the last word. 

“It's true that I hate fighters with massive egos like him, but I hate people like you even more,” I told him before following the path where my team had gone. 

“People like me?” Yuki wondered. 

“Bad and stupid,” I said without looking back. I hoped my point was clear.

I continued my way until I reached the reception. Sukuna was waiting for me in an armchair with his arms crossed while watching a TV in front of him, while the rest of the team was awaiting us at the van. “I thought he would go with the others.” 

“You didn't need to do that,” he told me once I got close to him. 

“It is, I can't let a piranha get in my pond,” I answered wisely. 

“Did you put her on her place?” Sukuna asked me. 

 “I insulted her in 4 different ways, what do you think?” I joked. 

“Good,” he said before getting up from the sofa. “I need a favor.”

Oh no, not again. It was the day before the fight, so I already knew what he was going to ask me. I wouldn't do it, not even if he threw me all his money. I was finally over him, I couldn't fall back into the void I worked so hard to escape from.

“I'm not going to fuck with you,” I told him directly. 

“I already knew that,” he replied. My eyebrow raised at that answer. 

“Yeah?”

“It's super obvious that you like Choso, and he likes you too,” he answered. I couldn't help but blush knowing that I was acting so obvious around him. “I need you to do me a favor with Yuuji.” 

I hadn't packed any cute outfit for the nightlife in Brazil, so I decided to wear jeans with a black fitted t-shirt, what I was supposed to wear for when we got back home. Sukuna told me that Yuuji loves to travel to Brazil for the food. So he asked me to join him for dinner while he does his good luck ritual with a prostitute Gojo got for him. 

“Are you ready to eat some good cuts of meat? I asked Yuuji coming out of the bathroom we shared. 

“Of course! I hope you have prepared your stomach because we are going to gain 5 pounds after this,” He said excitedly. 

We left the room to head towards the reception. While I was getting ready, he had made a list of all the restaurants he wanted to visit during the afternoon. We would start at a restaurant to eat picanha, then to an eatery to try feijoada, and finally we would look for some place that sold quindim or brigaidero. 

I listened to Yuuji talk about how delicious Brazilian food is as we rode down the elevator. When the doors opened, we were both shocked to see what was on the other side. There was a girl who looked very much like me in a little red fitted dress that left almost nothing to the imagination. She was not my clone exactly, but her hair, skin tone, face shape and body type were similar. We got out of the elevator and she walked in, greeting us in Portuguese.

“She looked just like you,” Yuuji said to me, still in shock. 

“Yeah…” I whispered impressed.

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[inkspiredwriting]

A Moment Out of Time

Five Hargreeves x Fem!reader

Warnings: none

Five Hargreeves and his siblings had found themselves once again displaced in time. This time, it was the 1980s. They were stranded, trying to find a way back to their own era, but the path was fraught with complications. Amidst the chaos of adjusting to yet another time period, Five met Y/N.

Y/N was different from anyone he had ever known. She had a resilience and warmth that drew him in, despite his usual reluctance to let anyone get close. They met at a local library, where Five had been researching potential leads on how to return to his own time. Y/N, a librarian with an insatiable curiosity, had offered to help him with his mysterious inquiries.

Over time, their shared moments turned from purely professional to deeply personal. They would spend evenings together, discussing everything from history to their hopes and fears. Five found himself opening up to Y/N in ways he hadn't with anyone else. And Y/N, despite sensing there was much he wasn't telling her, found herself falling for the enigmatic time traveler.

One evening, they were sitting in a small café, the warm glow of the setting sun casting a golden hue over everything. Five looked at Y/N, her laughter infectious as she recounted a funny story from her childhood. But beneath his smile, a heaviness weighed on his heart. He knew their time together was running out.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

She looked at him, her smile fading as she saw the seriousness in his eyes. “What is it, Five?”

He took a deep breath, struggling to find the right words. “I’m not from here. Not just this place, but this time. My siblings and I, we’re from the future, and we’ve been trying to get back.”

Y/N’s eyes widened, her mind racing to comprehend what he was saying. “The future? How far?”

“Far enough,” he replied. “But now we’ve found a way back, and… I have to leave.”

The weight of his words settled between them, the reality of their situation hitting Y/N like a tidal wave. “You’re leaving?”

Five nodded, pain evident in his eyes. “I don’t want to, but I have to. My family needs me, and we have responsibilities in our own time.”

Y/N looked down, her heart breaking. “How long do we have?”

“Just a few more days,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

Tears welled up in Y/N’s eyes, but she fought to keep her composure. “I knew there was something different about you, something extraordinary. But I never imagined this.”

Five reached across the table, taking her hand in his. “I wish things were different. I wish I could stay.”

They spent those final days together, cherishing every moment. They visited Y/N’s favorite spots, shared stories, and made the most of the limited time they had. Each day was a bittersweet reminder of the impending goodbye.

On the last day, Five and Y/N stood at the spot where he would meet his siblings to travel back. The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the ground.

“Promise me something,” Y/N said, her voice trembling.

“Anything,” Five replied, his own emotions threatening to overwhelm him.

“Promise me you’ll remember me, wherever you end up,” she said, tears streaming down her face.

Five pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly. “I promise, Y/N. I’ll never forget you.”

Their final kiss was tender and filled with a mix of love and sorrow. As they pulled apart, Five’s siblings appeared, ready to make the jump back to their own time.

Five turned to Y/N one last time, his heart aching. “Goodbye, Y/N.”

“Goodbye, Five,” she whispered, watching as he joined his siblings.

With a flash of light, they were gone, leaving Y/N standing alone, her heart shattered but filled with the memories of their time together.

Back in their own time, Five carried Y/N’s memory with him, a beacon of light in the dark corners of his life. And Y/N, though heartbroken, knew that she had been part of something extraordinary, something that transcended time itself.

[obligatoryjauneblog]

Twins AU: Mother Knows Best

Bit of a sequel to this piece, credit to @pilot-boi for this AU and the lore.

She found him out in the dunes, sat on top of one and eyeing the setting sun. She only heard snippets of what transpired, dragged through a realm of madness but little else other than the fact her son came back... changed. It was horrifying to think how much it reminded her of the old wizard.

She landed a bit to his side, spreading her wings before closing them again. For a bit they just sat there, neither saying or even so much as looking to the side. Until Yin decided to break the silence.

Jaune: ... Finally decided to be a mother, Raven?

She shifted out of that form, crossing her legs and laying her blade on her lap. She brought it into the sand and pushed herself up. She was pulled back down by her son.

Jaune: W-wait!

Raven finally turned to look at him. How could someone so young look so old. She wanted to look anywhere else. She saw too much of Tai at his worst in him.

Jaune: Does it get easier...?

Raven: Does what?

Jaune: Taking a life.

Raven raised an eyebrow, out of both of her children she expected Yang to be the one to ask her that.

Raven: It's not meant to be easier, Yin.

Jaune: Yet it is to you.

Raven: And what makes you say that.

Jaune: You tried to kill an infant after all.

She walked into that one, closing her eyes as she tried not to give a reaction.

Jaune: Then again how different am I really... I killed one of my sister's best friend...

Jaune wrapped his arms around his knees, laying his head down. Raven reached out, but her arm froze before she could touch him.

Raven: Gods, I'm bad at this...

Raven: When was this?

Jaune: During the trek from Atlas... she, she was wounded. Begged me to take her life, so Cinder couldn't take her power...

Raven: So a mercy kill then?

Jaune: Does that make it any better?

To Jaune's surprise, he heard Raven laugh.

Raven: You really are your father's son.

Jaune: Pardon?

Raven: He and I, we had a mission... Routine search and rescue in rural Vale, got their just in time, but the Grimm were far more than we expected...

She closed her eyes, hearing Tai yell her name.

Raven: The one we were sent to rescue, Beowolf got to her. We managed to repel the horde, but our medkit wasn't enough, and we were too far from any hospital... She, she looked at us and knew that was it, asking us to end the pain.

Raven gripped her sword, laying it across her lap.

Raven: Your father was the one to do it. Her last words were thank you. I don't think he ever stopped beating himself up over that.

Jaune: Do my sisters know...?

Raven: No, but you understand why I told you?

Jaune: Yeah.. Yeah I think I do...

The sun was fully setting as the silence returned. Raven got up, stretching her arms.

Jaune: Do you think this was enough for forgiveness?

Raven: I never said I came for forgiveness... I came as... a concerned mother.

Jaune didn't even respond.

Raven: I know it'll take ye-

Jaune: It's not me you need to ask for forgiveness.

Raven: Excuse me?

Jaune got up, turning to face her fully.

Jaune: My sisters spent a few days in the Ever After, I... I spent a lifetime at least in there. Decades stewing in my own anger, my anger at Cinder, at you, at myself...

Raven: Yin...

Jaune: I managed to let go of many things in there. You abandoning me was one of them... What I can't forgive is what you did to my sister. You want us to be family? Start there.

He started walking down the sands, heading towards town.

Jaune: Goodbye, Raven.

She waited until he was out of ear shot.

Raven: Goodbye... son...

[meichenxi]

languages, travel, identity, grief

Maybe some of you have heard of Xu Zhimo's Second Farewell to Cambridge (徐志摩 再別康橋 Translation: Saying Goodbye to Cambridge Again, by Xu Zhimo | East Asia Student). It's an achingly lovely poem about a Chinese scholar who studied in the UK, and how he left so gently, taking nothing with him as he went. It brought me solace over the last year.

I thought for a very long time about how I felt about having to leave China, and what it felt like to mourn for a future that was never going to mine. I cried. How am I supposed to explain why? I'm not Chinese. I've got no family there, or a childhood to look back on. I couldn't explain it even to myself.

That pain was coupled with a type of uncertainty, a discomfort at myself for feeling so strongly. This feeling was not allowed. It meant - what? Something awful, probably. I was a racist, probably. I should hate myself, probably. Fetishization is the word that gets thrown around for white people and their time spent in East Asia at one end of the spectrum - at the other end it's just seen as embarrassing and deeply, you know, cringe. It's a self-interrogation - why do I feel so sad? Why do I feel this pull so strongly anyway, to a country that's not even mine? Why should it matter so much when I leave? I didn't feel like this grief has any sort of legitimacy. But it has taken from September - eight months after leaving - for me to pick up Chinese again.

I felt, for months, hollow and unsettled and drifting from place to place. I opened my textbook, and closed it again. The memories there were too painful. I'm not going to write about why I had to leave, but it wasn't by choice. I had loved the people in the school, even if it was for a short time. When you have no internet and are training eight hours a day, the days are coloured more sharply: bright and hurtful and wonderful all at once. We had no running water. It was in an abandoned hotel. I miss the monk at the temple door opposite the school, always on time at 6am to open it for our classes. I miss the folk at the local shop who invited me to watch films on their projector; once they killed a chicken for us. I miss the woman in the woods who gave me the chestnuts she had picked. I gave the chestnuts to the cook, and we steamed them and ate them by the lake. He wanted me to marry his son; he wanted it so strongly that he brought me pork, and desserts, and gave me paper, and promised me I could have a jade bracelet, that he would buy me a house. I miss the oldest martial arts teacher, who spoke in such strong dialect I could barely understand him. When I was sad and missing home one night, he told me that I should stay after dinner. In the silence and against the cicadas, he started to play the erhu for me. Later, my friend told me that he hadn't know what to say, how to comfort me; I was a foreigner and a young woman, after all. We had very little in common. But nobody has ever played a piece of music for me like that before.

And I miss X, my best friend there and partner in snack-smuggling crime. She is 19 years old, and a janitor's daughter, and one of the wisest people I have ever met. (She also rides an excellent motorbike, and lent me her hanfu, and we sped through the city giddy with our own daring and trying not to be caught.) We got matching haircuts; she had always wanted to cut her hair like a boy, and was too scared to do it alone. When I left, I told her to stay in touch: she shook her head. She said that some people were meant to know each other for some time, and no more. I think the death of friendship by attrition, by - as Elrond said! - the slow decay of time, is one of the saddest things of all. I deleted Wechat. I don't want to read over the old messages. By having this place - her, and the chestnuts, and the cicadas - as a memory, I can tuck it away it. I can keep it close.

I wrote a poem myself on the plane. That was the last I thought about China, the last thought I let myself have, in eight months. I kept myself away from it. It felt like a wound. And against that hollowness, there was constantly the question: Why should I have any right to miss this place? Who I am there? Why does it matter? We are all different people, wherever we go, and whoever we are with; we wear different skins, large or small. In China I was [...]. She was who I was. That name, that I introduced myself to people with - she was bright and friendly and tried to translate things just so. Everybody who goes as the only foreigner to a place - or the only foreigner that speaks the language - is a little bit self-obsessed. It happens. It's unfortunate, and something to guard against. But it also gives you its own kind of identity in a way: your identity is Foreigner. Your identity is a cultural bridge. Everyone you meet, in a country as friendly and curious as China, has questions about you. You stand with your feet in both worlds, and are not really part of either of them. That identity is easy to slip into, like cool water, like trying on new clothes. It's easier that thinking: who am I outside of that? Where am I going? I don't really know. I don't think anyone really does.

And then the second thing happens. I speak Chinese well, by this point. My accent is there, but it's slight. I am short, and have dark hair, and a generally similar build to many East Asians - so the questions I have got in the last few years have changed. Sometimes people think I have been raised here. Sometimes they think I am ethnically Russian, and nationally Chinese. Sometimes I get asked if I am half Chinese. Usually they know I am a Foreigner, 100% white - but not always. There is a peculiar rush that comes from that acceptance; from feeling the relief, just for fifteen minutes, that you belong. It's not about 'passing', or race-bending, or anything twisted - it's nothing so unnerving as that. It's just the human need to belong. Everyone gets tired of being stared at, after a while. And after a while, you start to think - I wish I understood. I wish they understood. I wish this were easy.

But then the conversation keeps going. You don't know a local word, or you misunderstand. You say something in a strange way, or you make a strange gesture, and the glass shatters, and - there you are again, naked again, exhausted again, explaining yourself again. That's the other half of it. There's solace in the Foreigner identity, because that means that's all you are. You don't have to think about your parents, or whether they worry about you so far from home; of course they do. The Foreigner is good and filial and a wonderful daughter. You can craft her into any shape you like. But it also marks you out again and again, endlessly and again, as Other.

There was a paper published a while ago that showed measures of acceptance of non-natives in native-speaking communities. It highlights a strange, but familiar experience to those who have lived abroad - the people who spoke the language to a medium level felt more accepted and less lonely than those that spoke the language to a high degree. It makes sense, and mirrors what I have found with both Chinese and German. When you speak a little Chinese, you are a wonder - a curiousity! Look at the Western girl go! People are kind, and curious, and will slow down to include you in conversations. You are thrilled with what you can access - all this knowledge, that other people don't have! Look how special you are!

And then you get better. And then you realise, cut by cut, that you will never be one of them. You don't want to be Chinese, per se; but you do want to be accepted. You are happy to be British; but you miss China like a wound, an old one, festering, even when it was never yours. How do you tell your family that you are not grieving a lost romance, a beautiful girl, but a language and a life? That there are words of majesty, of playfulness, that will never be yours? You speak well enough that people no longer bother to dumb things down, or explain them; you sit with your discomfort, smile painted on, because - you know. It's not bad. You understand most of it. And on the edge of that circle, smiling uncertainly, following the vast majority of what is being said, you are not clever enough and not witty enough to keep up with the chengyu, the cultural references, the slang, and the raucous laughter around you erupts, and you don't know what you've missed, and everybody says - she's quiet, that one. Maybe all the foreigners are? And all you are doing is sitting and feeling the distance between You and Them as heavy and as stifled in your chest as an ocean of dark.

So you go back. Back to your people. But when you sit with the other foreigners, you are apart. They laugh; what are these nutters doing? The Chinese don't make any sense. The Chinese do this - they do that. You sit there, and then there is a pressure building in your chest too, a discomfort, the desire to stand up and say - well, actually.

You are responsible for everything the Chinese teachers do, and have to explain things in a way that the students understand - Confucian thought, and Buddhist philosophy, translated in pithy bite-size adages for the West. You have no qualifications for this; everything you assert, you feel unsure. Uncertain. Someone else could explain it better, more nuanced, and you need to do more reading anyway - but here you are, and here they are, and you're the only one. And you do know. Not enough, but enough that their jokes, their pains, make you uncomfortable. You feel the need to defend both parties; to be a diplomat, every second of every day. In turn, when the students come to the teachers with problems, you have to translate their grievances in a way that the Chinese teachers will be sympathetic towards. Once I got asked: why do you never join us after class? Why are you always so quiet when you're not working? As a translator, you are always working. Every time you speak, you are working; what you choose to say, and what you choose to not say, and where you choose to intervene. You are building relationships, and disappearing, and you are becoming invisible, and you're a nothing, and you're everyone and you're nobody and nobody realises you are doing anything more than translating at all.

I wanted to stay. I couldn't have stayed. I wanted to be accepted as one of them. I wanted to be accepted for who I was. That means a foreigner. I wanted to be true to myself, which means that I would always be the Foreigner, which means I would always be apart from them. It is that contrast and juxtaposition which causes the grief. And there was never an ending to it, a resolution, a chance to reconcile myself (in China) with myself (in the UK), because all at once I had to leave. The grief comes most from the second arrow - not the pain of leaving, but the bewilderment of not knowing why I was in pain at all.

It's been eight months. Slowly, as spring comes, I feel like I am on surer ground. I can look at my old books, those painstaking notes, and I could look at new ones too and I'm starting to think, because this is what I tell my students, and maybe there's some truth in it - it's okay if you're not perfect. It's okay if you didn't achieve what you wanted to, and that the language - in its wholeness, and who can ever know that? - will never, not quite, be yours. It's the struggle and the process that means that I will know and understand Chinese in a different way, in my own way, in a slanted-to-reality sort of way, that is a treasure in and of itself. There is beauty in its brokenness too.

And there is sorrow, too. The sorrow that comes with easing yourself into a different life, and it holding you gently for a while. I sat there - I spoke to them. It's not only missing a place; it's missing a person you were, a stage of your life, for a time. It's knowing that a place has reached inside your ribs and taken root there - even if you don't return, you can never fully get rid of that again. You are two people now, with feet straddling two oceans. There are parts of you that loved and suffered and hated and grew in Chinese, not English. You can't explain that. You can't even begin. Sometimes - not often - you are a stranger in your own land. The poets spoke of that. In the age of fast travel, of the weekend break, we have forgotten the ways a place can burrow itself inside you, and find its own home.

It's not the same as the grief that someone Chinese will face. But it's still grief. I have put my life into Chinese. Maybe that is all it takes to grow love.

Now, I turn back to Chinese - as a foreigner, as Melissa, as myself. It's a bittersweet thing. I know that I cannot hold all of it. It will spill out, like the sun, and there is no way I can be that without losing myself and my history and my own green woods. But I think I am ready now. I am surer, and a little steadier on my feet.

[charmingsoa]

■ Bring it On Home to Me (Intro) ■ John Egan x OC Multi chapter story ⚠ Warning ⚠ This story will feature themes not appropriate for those under the age of 18 and will focus on sensitive subjects at times. Story will contain scenes of sexual content, cursing, physical and verbal abuse, substance use, cheating, miscarriage, mentions of war, etc. Warnings will be posted with each chapter. Please be advised when reading. This fic is purely fiction and has nothing to to do with the actual men of Masters of Air. A/N: Hello! So this is my first John Egan story and i'm kind of excited and nervous to display it to you all... I've never written for this character before but i've read all the amazing stories that are out there and I wanted to jump on the bandwagon. So, this story starts off a little different than most and it will actually go back in time to tell the story. Like I said, it's a little different, but I hope in a good way! I hope you all enjoy 😊

If you would like to be tagged for future updates, please let me know!

“I think that’s the last of it, mom.” I looked up from the picture, my oldest daughter staring back as she wiped a stray hair out of her face.

The house, the place where I had spent the last 50 years, now stood before me vacant and empty, echoing with the memories of a lifetime. The bare walls, once adorned with photos capturing moments from the past and present, now stared back at me, the original paint faded from where the frames had sat untouched for many years. This home had been the anchor of our family, the sanctuary where my children, grandchildren, and now great-grandchildren had all found solace and security.

I could still see it vividly in my mind's eye - my girls taking their first steps on the soft carpet of the living room, their laughter filling the air. The kitchen, with its worn wooden floors, bore witness to their growth, marked by notches on the door frame tracking their increasing heights. The backyard, a place of endless play and joy, had been the backdrop for countless family gatherings, from first day-of-school photos to prom nights and even wedding celebrations.

As I wandered through the empty rooms, memories flooded my mind - the sound of children's laughter echoing down the halls, the smell of home-cooked meals wafting from the kitchen, the sight of my grandchildren playing in the backyard as I watched from the comfort of the wraparound porch. This was more than just a house; it was a living, breathing repository of our family's history and love.

This was the home that he had promised me, the place where we had vowed to build our lives and raise our family, where we had planned to stay until the end of our days. Now, as I prepared to say goodbye to our beloved home, a mix of emotions swirled within me.

"I'm gonna get you out of here – give you a life worth living and loving in America," the soldier declared, his voice tinged with a mix of determination and allure. As he spoke, tendrils of smoke curled lazily from the cigarette between his fingers, adding to the air of mystery that surrounded him. His eyes, a piercing shade of blue, bore into mine with an intensity that was hard to ignore.

Rolling my eyes in response, I stubbed out my own cigarette, the ember extinguishing with a hiss. All the soldiers were the same, I thought wryly, willing to say anything to win favor and attention, especially at the end of a long night. Despite his good looks and the faint scent of whiskey and smoke that emanated from his dress greens, I remained guarded, having heard similar promises before.

"You watch and see, little girl," he continued, leaning back in his chair, his posture exuding confidence. His thighs were spread open, a display of dominance that didn't escape my notice. "I'll buy you any kind of house you want – a farmhouse, a mansion, one on the beach."

"Mom-" Bridget's voice broke through the silence, pulling me back from the depths of my thoughts. I blinked, refocusing on the present moment, feeling her warm hand gently pressing against my back. Her touch comforting.

I turned to look at her, a concerned gaze searching mine. Her eyes, so much like her father’s, reflected a mix of worry and love. In that moment, I saw the strength and resilience that she had inherited from him.

"I'm okay, sweetheart," I reassured her, offering a faint smile to ease her concern. "Just lost in my thoughts for a moment there."

She let out a sigh as she looked over the empty home, "Daddy used to always tell Maggie and me that we wouldn’t be able to get you out of this house – even if we infested it with all the spiders in the world – you would find a way to stay," she reminisced, a hint of amusement in her voice.

A smile tugged at my lips as she continued, "He would kid us by saying that you loved this house more than you loved him, which we both knew was not true."

"Well," I smirked, "There were times when your father was not my favorite person, but he always had a way of making it up to me in the end, even if it was my fault for the argument." The intensity of our arguments, fueled by stubbornness and pride, seemed to fade in comparison to the fierce passion that ignited between us once the storm had passed.

"Do you realize that you’re a pain in my ass?” I rolled my eyes as he stood firmly in front of me. “If I wanted to cheat on you, I would have gone out and done it already, Vanessa. I could go down to George’s bar and pick any one of those hookers that hang around there – I’m sure they would be more than happy to spend a couple hours with me."

A mean smirk formed on my face as I retorted, “You haven’t lasted more than 10 minutes in over two years.” I scoffed. “Over here talking about lasting a couple hours – it's either your back or your knees that start hurting in a matter of seconds. God forbid you’re the one on the bottom.”

His eyes narrowed at my cutting remarks. “You sayin that I’m no good in bed?” he shot back, a hint of defensiveness creeping into his tone.

“You’re the one talking about being some kind of Adonis,” I remarked, feeling my back hit the counter behind me as he crept closer. “I’m just stating the facts, sweetheart.” His tall frame towered over mine, his arms trapping me in on either side. I glared up at him with hooded eyes, while his piercing blue eyes held a hint of mischief.

“I mean, you’re okay I guess,” I replied, trying to maintain a façade of indifference despite the closeness between us.

His breath tickled my ear as he leaned in even closer, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, “The way you were begging last night might say otherwise, V.” His words sent a jolt of heat through me, memories of the previous night flooding back with an intensity that left me momentarily speechless.

"Daddy made this place fun, that's for sure – it's gonna be weird not seeing him sitting in the rocking chair out front or fiddling around in his garden," Bridget remarked, a hint of wistfulness in her voice. I nodded in understanding, feeling the weight of her words settle heavily in my heart.

"Gonna be weird just not coming here period," she added, her eyes briefly meeting mine as I let out a sad sigh.

As we stood there, surrounded by the familiar sights and sounds of our family home, I couldn't help but feel a sense of loss creeping in. John’s presence had always been a comforting constant, his love and warmth filling every corner of this house. Without him, the home felt like an empty shell – hollow and cold.

“I think I’m gonna take one more look around- “My voice hitching in my throat. “Make sure I have everything before I turn the keys over to the realtor.”

Bridget nodded her head, her touch leaving my arm as she slowly walked towards the front door. I could hear her speaking with the real estate agent that was waiting outside, the realization that this was the end starting to dawn on me.

My eyes moved down to the picture that I clutched tightly in my hands – our young, bright smiles on display as the bulb flashed in front of us. The first photograph of us in front of our new house – the place where we promised to spend the rest of our days.

549 Timber Creek Rd.

[magicbystarlight]

Venomous - Part Eleven

Masterlist, Part One

Summary: A wife. A mother. A witch with someone else's name. That’s the life you didn’t want. So Tom offered you more.

Word Count: 3K

Warnings: 18+, a bit of an angsty one, arranged marriage, age gap relationship, ptsd, war. Minors DNI.

A/N: Our poor reader can't catch a break.

The last days at the Manor passed mechanically. Wedding appointments set for Easter Break—dress, cake, invitations, dinner. A book left unread despite the pages turned. Smiles that didn’t reach your eyes. Laughs that were hollow. Unanswered letters. No word from your brother. Nothing in the papers about the Muggle war.

Abraxas was at your side, arm slung too casually around your shoulder as you walked through Platform 9 ¾. Your trunk somewhere behind being dragged along by the Malfoys’ oldest house-elf Honey. Or was it Bunny? An unsubtle reminder to the growing crowd that you were a Malfoy, even if not in name yet.

At least your mother hadn’t come.

His goodbye was drawn out. You smiled and dutifully let him kiss you again and again until he couldn't keep you any longer. You hoped your own face didn't betray your joy as you stepped onto the train. The compartments were full as you dragged your trunk. It took longer to find Larissa and Abigail than usual thanks to the added weight.

Their concern felt wasted on you when you stepped into the compartment. Too much of your friendship had been spent on your petty problems when their families lived in constant danger that you knew nothing about.

You insisted you were fine, that it had only been a bit of stress, and everything was okay now. You brushed off concerns about Abraxas’ behavior, rewriting his jealousy as protection. You were fine, everything was fine.

The conversation veered to them and you listened intently. A funny story about Larissa’s mother getting on the wrong train in the underground. Talk of Abigail’s father’s wonderful cooking. Love letters they found under her little sister’s pillow. It made your heart ache.

“We should set up a dinner or something for the Easter holiday,” you said as the laughter was starting to subside. “So I can meet your families.”

Your friends shared a look that didn’t look pleased with the idea. “Won’t you be too busy? With all the planning? We don’t want to add to your stress.”

“Too busy for you? Never.”

“It’s just,” Larissa said slowly, trying to find the words to say, “well, we know how your family feels about half-bloods. You might not mind, but they’re not gonna be happy with it.”

“They know we’re friends, it’s not that big of a deal anymore. Maybe they’ll be upset if they find out one of Abby’s parents is Muggle, but we can go somewhere Muggle and they’ll never even know. Make a day of it, a real day, show me more of the Muggle world. I’ve never even seen London past the windows in the Leaky Cauldron.”

Larissa went to say something else, another argument against it from the frown in her face, but Abigail cut her off, face lacking its normal color. “We’ll see. I’ll need to owl my parents and ask if they can make the time for it. Easter’s pretty busy for them.”

Your face fell before you could catch it and school it into something false.

“We can do Cambridge instead!” Larissa offered quickly, too eager compared to her hesitation a moment before. “I’m sure Mum would love to have you both over. And it gets so pretty in the spring there—” 

She continued, naming reason after reason Cambridge was the place to be for Easter. You worked your smile back, though it was as hollow as it’d had been at the Manor. A tentative date set for the Tuesday after the holiday—you had no appointments set and Abigail would be too busy helping out around home before then. Color still hadn’t returned to her face.

When enough time had passed, you excused yourself to use the restroom. They didn’t offer to join you.

Scalding water splashed from the tap, causing your hands to retract with a hiss. You waited for the temperature to correct itself and tried not to scratch at the pain.

Abigail didn’t want you meeting her family. Larissa could spend a week with them and you couldn’t even have dinner. You always knew they were a little closer. How could they not be when you barely put any effort into the friendship? They may have been your best friends, but today you realized you weren’t theirs.

That was okay, you told yourself. You would do better.

You looked up into the mirror as you scrubbed your hands. A crack cutting diagonally down it you hadn’t noticed before. How poorly were these restrooms maintained?

The door swung open.

“—almost punched Ralph McLaggen in the middle of Diagon Alley! Over her? Can you—“

The Slytherin girl from Potions cut off abruptly as her gaze met yours in the mirror. The one who loved to tell people about your torrid affair with Slughorn. You’d have to remember her name eventually. 

Her grin was sickly sweet. “You looked great at the Minister’s ball.”

“Thanks, but,” you said, matching the acidic tone. “I don’t remember seeing you there?” Then you laughed, shaking your hands dry and turning to see her now scowling face. “Oh right, you must have seen me in the paper! I’d almost forgotten.” 

You walked to the door, eyebrow raised expanctly at her friend who still stood in its way. She squeaked out an apology before moving aside. “Well lovely to see you, Judith. Hope your holiday went well.” Maybe you didn’t have to learn her name.

—

Dumbledore wasn’t at the welcoming feast. It wasn’t unusual. Since First Year he’d been in and out of class aiding in the fight against Grindelwald. But you felt the absence more now. You’d wanted to talk to him about Warrick. 

There were eyes on you. More than usual it seemed. You kept your back to the Slytherin’s table. 

Abigail had recovered, at least. 

Her smiles were warm again as conversation swirled at the table around the next Quidditch match. Ravenclaw had only had one match the previous semester and it left them at an advantage, same as Slytherin and it was expected the match would be tense. You listened attentively as some of the team’s players explained how many points they’d need to rack up to gain the lead. It surprised you how attentively they listened when Larissa started dissecting Slyhterin’s weaknesses and strengths. Her insight was, well, insightful. 

“We’ve got the pitch on Thursday, you’ll be there?” Erin Lockhart, this year’s captain, asked her as you all made your way back to the tower. 

Larissa’s face was bright. “Haven’t missed one yet, have I?”

It was past midnight when the three of you finally clambered up the stairs to your dormitory. Normal. A truly normal night. Not a mention of engagements or wars or stalkers. Filled instead with Quidditch and school worries and silly little jokes. So many new things noticed about people you’d known for years. Funny how that can happen when you’re not existing solely in your own head.

Larissa was giggling about how good Henry Higginbottom’s hair looked when she stopped abruptly after opening the door. You thought maybe the ladies at Twilfitt and Tattings had outdone themselves and delivered early, but a melodic chirping drowned it out.

On your bed, in a rather large and intricate gilded cage, was Ravenclaw’s emblem. A Golden Eagle.

Their eyes were such a familiar shade of brown. 

“When did you get an eagle?”

“I didn’t.” You felt cold. “I’ll take my chances with whatever gilded cage awaits me rather than whatever crate you’re offering.” Could Tom never stop with his fucking metaphors?

Abigail was the one to investigate. She plucked an envelope from the bed, turning it over. Your name was on the front in familiar handwriting and an even more familiar teal seal.

Of course Azar was still doing Tom’s bidding.

Anger seized as you took the letter she handed over. Blood splatters marred the parchment.  

Found her in Astrid’s owlery. 

A likely story.

Apparently she’d been there a while and now she seems a bit confused about what she is. Thought getting her out of there was for the best,

You scoffed. Of course he would decide what he thinks best.

but the dungeons aren’t a good place for her. She needs to spread her wings. 

One thing he wasn’t wrong about. 

I know Selene said no to getting you an owl, but she never said no to an eagle.

He remembered that? It’d been years since you’d asked. 

Dippet was happy enough to approve her as a pet for you. Unsurprisingly, you’re one of his favorites.

It was a surprise to you.

She prefers hunting for herself, so she won’t be a bother. She’ll even take the post for you. You’ll have to give her a name though. Our aunt only ever called her örnen.

That sounded like Aunt Astrid.

Sinc Love,

Uggy Az

P.S. There’s no excuse. I’m sorry.

P.P.S. She was perfectly tame until I put her in the cage. You’ll get along well, I think. 

The anger had dissipated by the end. Not gone entirely, but less. You still weren’t convinced it wasn’t some new trap laid, but for now you’d let it be what it seemed. A sincere apology. Those were so rare.

“Uggy Az?” Larissa questioned, reading the letter over your shoulder.

“It’s what I called Azar when I was really little. It was supposed to be Uncle Az.” You reached for the latch, pulling the door open. “Mum hated it cause it sounded like I was calling him an ugly ass.” Cautiously the bird stepped out, stretching her wings and legs. She was beautiful.

You knelt at the end of the bed and she met you there. This close you could see the gold speckled throughout her eyes. When you reached your hand forward, she bent her head and let out a chirp at the contact.

“What should we name her?” you asked, stroking her.

“Princess?” Larissa offered before her face immediately went sour and shook her head. “She needs something more classical. Aethon?” 

That made you shudder. Would that make you Prometheus? 

Abigail’s fingers joined yours to stroke the brown feathers. “How about Drein?”

The eagle let out another chirp.

“You like that?” you asked. “Drein?”

She chirped again and seemed to nuzzle against your hand. 

“Well,” Larissa laughed, joining you and Abigail in your affections to the bird, “Drein it is.”

—

Sweat covered you as you shot up from bed. A nightmare. You couldn’t remember much beyond explosions, screams, and a hand around your throat.

The hands of the clock pointed to a quarter past five. Too early to start the day and too late to try to sleep. Not that you’d be able to sleep anyways.

Drein stirred from her perch atop your wardrobe when you moved. It was odd how comforting it was when her eyes followed you to your desk. Being watched by a predator was normally so unsettling, but for once you didn’t feel like prey.

You took a piece of parchment and your quill and began to write. It wasn’t right. You scratched it out and started again. Still wrong. Dashed through the new sentences and tried again. No. 

Curiosity got the best of Drein, her wings fluttering softly as she landed on the edge of the desk. Her head cocked as you ripped off the bottom, bare part of the parchment.

Why? You wrote. Your quill hovered for a moment more. I miss you. A few tears landed on the parchment before you wiped away the rest. Drein crept forward, pushing her head against your hand.

“Can you do me a favor?” you ask her. She blinks. “Take this to my brother.”

—

Drein had returned by that night. There was no reply. A week passed. Days that weren’t quite bad, but exhausting. 

Transfiguration was the easiest. An essay to write from the substitute instead of hands-on practice. Astronomy. History of Magic. Ancient Ruins. Herbology. Arithmancy. Potions. Care of Magical Creatures. None of them required a wand often. 

But Charms and DADA?

Horrible.

Abigail thought you were sick. First you fainted and now you were struggling in class? You’d gone and gotten checked just to ease her concern. You weren’t sure how no one noticed the crack in your wand, but you powered through. It did seem to work a little better as the days passed. Less resistant. A few more days, maybe a week or two, and it would be fine. Like nothing happened.

Whispers followed as they always did. Some with pity, but more with glee. You’d walked into a room more than once to be greeted with hurriedly hushed voices. Thankfully your housemates were more akin to pity.

Saturday afternoon you sat alone in the common room, where you’d been since after breakfast. It was a dreary day outside, but you couldn’t pull your attention away from the window. There wasn’t anything else to do. Abigail had left for some Divination project she had to work on with a Gryffindor and Larissa was serving a detention she’d gotten the last day of last semester. Abraxas had planned to visit, but something had come up and he postponed for Sunday. Homework was done and you didn’t feel like tracking anyone down to occupy time. 

Why hadn’t Warrick written you back?

A very nasally, high pitched noise came from beside you, breaking your concentration. Myrtle Warren stood there, nose high in the air. She held out a folded piece of parchment. “Avery asked me to give this to you?”

Your eyebrow shot up. Myrtle was muggleborn. Azar didn’t like interacting with that sort, let alone entrusting them with anything.

She cleared her throat again impatiently and wriggled the note.

With a muttered thanks, you took it. She still stood there. It simply read: Library?

“He told me to wait for a yes or no. Wants me to walk with you there for some reason if you say yes. Very odd, I think, but he’s paid me ten galleons just to bring this, and it’ll be another twenty once I get back to him with an answer.”

Ten galleons just to get you a note. Thirty in all to get an answer. And an escort. 

“Was there anyone with him?”

She shook her head. “No, he was all alone. Just like you. And me.” She shrugged. “Probably why he asked me.”

Azar must be hoping to apologize in person. There hadn’t been any chance to catch you alone throughout the week. You’d ensured that. While Myrtle wasn’t your first option of a companion, she was better than nothing. And talking it out with Azar was better than staring out a window. You needed to thank him for Drein, too.

Myrtle was surprisingly patient. You’d had to put your things away up in your dorm and she waited without a single complaint. It was unlike her. She hadn’t gained the nickname Moaning Myrtle for nothing. 

It was probably the promise of galleons that kept her so quiet  as you walked down the staircases.

“Do you mind if we stop by the restroom?” she asked as you landed on the second floor.

Had she not been so patient before, you’d have said no. But she had been. So you relented, eyeing the staircase wistfully and hoping she’d be quick. You wanted to see Azar. Know if it had been real.

Her favors weren’t over. “Could you check if there’s anyone in here? I don’t like an audience.”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes and did as requested. It was empty, thankfully. “All clear,” you called from the end of the stalls. 

“Well that is very,” Myrtle’s voice changed, the nasally high whine turning deep, honeyed, and unmistakable, “convenient.” 

You twisted, wand in hand, to witness as Myrtle’s face bubbled. Her robes stretched to accommodate the added height and width, its blue yellowing to green, Ravenclaw’s emblem contorted into Slytherin’s. You’d meant to Stupify him, but nothing came. A red jet of light shot from his. With horror, your grasp on your wand loosened involuntarily and it shot from your hand. He caught it effortlessly.

“I’m not here to fight,” Tom said evenly. He eyed your wand, surveying the damage. “Not that it seems you’d be able to put up much of one.” 

“Fuck you,” you hissed, despite the pounding in your ears. 

He smiled. “I have missed your quick wit.” When you said nothing, he sighed. “I wanted to apologize.”

You repeated, “Fuck you.” 

“That’s fair.” Your wand clattered on the floor as he threw it back. “I deserve worse.”

You don’t move. You consider it for half a second, hand tensing to reach for your wand, but you don’t. It’s useless.

“I didn’t understand how horrific what I did was. But I do now. And I’m sorry.”

Lies. Lies lies lies lies lies.

“I don’t want your apologies. They don’t mean anything. You regret nothing. You understand nothing!” Your voice rose, angry panic outpacing your ability to quell it. 

“Forgiveness will take time, I know. I’ll be patient.”

Tears seared your cheeks. “Forgiveness?” you questioned. “Forgiveness for what, Tom? For—for trying to kill me? For stalking me? For ruining my life?” Yanking the Malfoy heirloom from your finger, you held it up. “I only have this,” you threw it, aiming for his frozen face that didn’t even flinch and missing by a yard, “because of you. If you’d have left me alone, none of it would have happened. You took everything. And for what? What has it gotten you in the end?” Your arms were shaking as you gestured to the lavatory he’d trapped you in. “Downing polyjuice to corner me here and listen to me tell you that I hate you.”

Quaking shoulders. Terrified and angry and devastated. “Why can’t you just leave me alone?”

“I don’t know.”

It came out so soft, yet the words thundered in your head. He’d been so confident months ago. Spewing nonsense about power and freedom and breaking traditions. Now he stood there and said he doesn’t know why he continues to torment you?

“You don’t know?”

Cracking sounds reverberated against the walls.

“You don’t fucking know?”

Glass shards fell to the floor as the mirrors over the sinks shattered. 

You crumbled.

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[tearsonthemoons]

Out of the woods

Prompt: you’ve been in love with Coriolanus since you were just kids, when you end up finding him deep in the woods wounded, your feelings can finally be shared.

Pairing: Coriolanus snow x reader

Warnings: (none)

It was a cold winter day, I've decided to go for a walk in the woods. The snow was falling gently from the sky, creating a peaceful atmosphere, helping calm my remaining troubles.

As I walked deeper into the forest, I noticed a trail of blood on the ground, I'm not too surprised seeing that my whole district is fighting for their lives right now. War wasn't yet over.

Curiosity got the best of me, even though it was smart, I followed the trail, wondering where it could lead.

a few minutes of walking, I began to think of my father, there was enough blood to be concerned for my own family. the trail led me to a clearing where I saw a boy lying on the ground, surrounded by snow-covered trees.

My heart raced as I approached him, I realized who it was and my heart nearly leaped from my chest.

I've known him since we were just kids. We grew up in the same area, went to the same woods to play, and spent almost every day together in the same woods just being kids.

as we got older, my feelings towards him changed. I started to see him in a different light, noticing his soft smile, his charming wit, and his gentle touch. I fell in love with him without even realizing it. Without being able to change my feelings.

Corio, on the other hand, was completely oblivious to my feelings. He was always so focused on his dreams of becoming something greater that he never noticed my longing glances or my deep crimson cheeks.

I couldn't blame him, he had the talent and determination to make his dreams a reality, without me as a distration. I was always there to support him, cheering him on from the sidelines and celebrating his choices with him.

But as we entered our teenage years, things started to change. He fought and trained everyday, leaving me behind. I tried to keep up, but I just didn't follow him long enough.

It was during this time that I realized how much I truly loved Corio. I missed our childhood days, when it was just the two of us against the world. I missed our inside jokes, our late-night talks, and our adventures in the snow.

I didn't ever have the courage to tell him how I felt. I was afraid of ruining our friendship, of losing him altogether. So I buried my feelings deep inside and pretending to not be jealous of everything he did without me as we grow older.

Years went by and Snow never left my mind. even though we drifted apart, I never stopped loving him. Everything rushed back, every feeling, every touch, every thought i've ever had about him over took me. I ran closer to him.

"Corio?!" I said in panic noticing the deep gashes on his arms and legs. He was shivering and barely conscious.

Without hesitation, I knelt down beside him. 'Are you okay?' I asked, trying to get a better look at his injuries. He wasn't moving much, just a faint cough here and there. I felt tears go down my cheeks, I hadn't seen him in months, and even the last time i saw him, I didn't know him like I felt I did before, and all we said was goodbye.

Corios eyes fluttered open, Barely moving on the ground. he weakly nodded. "y/n?, Is that you?" he managed to say before closing his eyes again.

I quickly took off my jacket and wrapped it around him seeing there was blood from his head.

"Oh god, what's happened to you?" I said gently lifting his head up from the tree he was leaning onto. My thoughts began to become selfish, Holding his head brought me back to all the times i've got to hug him, all the times he's comforted me in our past. I hadn't lost my love.

All while I was thinking like this, I was trying to keep him warm.

I took my scarf and carefully wrapped it around his wounds, trying to stop the bleeding. I gently tended to his injuries, I couldn't help but notice how he looked. even in his injured state. His hair was a snowy white, and his eyes were the color of the sky on a clear winter day. Just how i remembered him.

Once I was finished wrapping him up, I sat back and looked at him. He was still shivering, He looked so fragile. I took his hand in mine and rubbed it gently, trying to warm him up. he opened his eyes again and looked at me with a slight smile.

"Where have you been? I was coming back for you." he said, his voice was barely above a whisper.

Coming back? for me? I wanted to hear more explaining from him, but I couldn't be selfish and ask, I needed to know what happened.

I looked back at him. "What happened Corio?"

He hesitated for a moment before answering. "Something in the snow came up behind me, I can't tell you what it was, or who"

I couldn't help but let out a small tear. "i've got you covered up, Are you still cold?"

He very weakly sat up. His eyes were on mine, He has grown up, He looked older, more handsome since the last I saw him.

We sat in silence for a while Before his blood covered hand reached for my face, His hands were cold, and my heart was speeding up just by his slight touch.

I knew I had to get Snow to a hospital. But I wanted to stay with him this moment, I'd been waiting for what felt like 15 years. "Your hands are cold, Corio." It was all I could spit out. All I could think off.

"I'll warm you." He said while scooting his face closer to mine. I didn't understand why this was happening, but I didn't have enough care to ask. "May I?" he said, his soft pink lips are only inches away from me.

"but why?" I said trying to keep my eyes looking into his, instead of his lips.

Before I got any answer, his soft lips gently pecked mine. They were colder than his hands, but the warmth and comfort of his touch got me, it was all I ever wanted.

When we pulled away, I looked into his eyes, no words to share between us. He went back in, this time with more passion then before, not only could I feel his cold lips, But I could taste him, He tasted as he smelled, whiskey and comfort. The taste and feeling of him was exactly what I knew it would be, and I finally had him.

once I pulled away, He slowly removed his hand from my face and just stared at me with his piercing eyes. "Corio?" I said, trying to make sense of what's just happened.

"I came back for you." was all he said, with those words I knew, I wasn't alone in my love, he had come back for me, I was complete with him, He was finally mine.

[xoxomoonlightxoxo]

Somewhere Between Hello and Goodbye | Ch. 4: Strangers With Memories

a/n: more angst but at least they aren't as awkward, however, after this chapter, I fear it's only going to go downhill for my babies :(

The dreadful No Contact Rule. Difficult not to break when the relationship is over and even more so when the relationship comes to a sudden halt but the feelings are still brewing inside. When the distance is forced and fueled by the guilt of losing that person again. However, I would be lying if I said that Jungkook is no longer part of my life. That I have somehow completely barricaded myself from his presence. How could I, when not even a conscious stream of thought can overcome the yearning of a broken heart? One that still longs for his touch, his sweet smile, his laugh. One that has been holding on to the memories of our past despite the lack of recollection in Koo’s eyes. To him, we are simply picking things up from where they were left off. Not a complicated task in nature until you realise that our story left off with his first and last “I love you, Mira”. So, no matter how hard I try to push him away, the heartstrings of my own soul seem to pull us back together. Even if he sees me as just a friend, I am willing to fight for everything we could have been, until one day he finally remembers it all. Remembers me, remembers us.

Unfortunately, with school starting, everyone has been getting back into their routines, leaving little time or opportunity to actually hang out. Despite this, Jungkook has made a special effort to “build back what he can’t remember”. So, seeing him has actually become part of my daily ritual. Whether that be going on a morning jog or grabbing a quick coffee after class. Like the good old days, we are connecting as close friends, since everything began that way. Before anything, Koo was my friend, one who somehow filled the void of my family when we were separated by an ocean. For that, I will forever be grateful to him. 

Today was like any other. Tae and I met our new cohort leader, the head of the ER department in the local children’s hospital, who was this older gentleman who wasted no opportunity to crack one of his dad jokes. He absolutely adored Tae, said that he saw his younger self in him, and unless he was a sleep-deprived, broke college student, I’m not sure what the correlation was. To be honest, Tae hasn’t been having it easy either. His grandma was recently diagnosed with pneumonia, so he spent the entire summer working three jobs to send as much money as he could back home. Being the only man, and thus, the breadwinner in the family after the passing of his father, he constantly tells me about the guilt he endures being far away from his mom, younger sister and grandma. The three women in his life he would give up anything for. And, as I’ve watched him slowly run himself thin, I have grown to be protective of Tae myself. Although he is older, in my eyes he will always be like a little brother to me. One whose shoulders carry the weight of a whole lineage.

Packing up our staff after class, Tae recommended we try the new pastry shop that opened by our dormitory. One that he first mentioned when Jungkook was admitted into the hospital in hopes of cheering my numb self. However, during that period the aching pain in my heart wanted nothing more than to be by Koo’s side. So, seeing that this time Tae was the one in need of support, I made sure to take him up on the offer as we indulged in our daily debrief. At the end of the day, we might not know how to properly give an IV but you best believe that we know how to run our mouths. In the span of half an hour, we managed to cover every possible topic known to men, ranging from the rise in the cost of eggs to the hideous new haircut the grumpy librarian decided to debut today. Our conversation could have gone on for hours until it was abruptly interrupted by the buzzing of my phone. 

Koo: Will 20 minutes be enough for you to get ready?

Mira: Depends … where are you taking me? 

Koo: It’s a surprise, just wear something comfy ;)

“Who got you smiling like that?” Tae chuckles teasingly, seeing that his words have lost my attention.  

“Oh nothing, I’m sorry, it’s just Jungkook,” I say, nibbling on my lips to suppress the urge to keep smiling. 

“What did he say?” he leans forward taking a sip of his Americano. 

“I think he wants to go somewhere?” my words drag on as he searches my scattering eyes. 

“Now?” 

“Well, no you’re right, I’m just gonna tell him that I’m busy,” I try to comfort Tae with a smile, sensing the guilt of leaving him alone.

“No, I mean, don’t you want to freshen up? How much time do you have?” he mumbles, gaze softening at my flustered state. 

“Oh, are you sure? I hate to pause our little hangout,” 

“There’s always tomorrow,” Tae assures with a boxy smile. 

“Okay, I’ll see you at breakfast, alright?” I say, packing up my stuff before we wave each other goodbye.

Thank God, the pastry shop was a short walk away from the dormitory as I suddenly realised how valid Tae’s suggestion of a shower was. Let’s just say that today’s clinical was one for the books. Not only did I spill a whole IV bag on my scrubs but I’m pretty sure that there are still some pieces of dried cream in my hair as one of the older patients refused to cooperate. So, as I finally managed to open the front door, I headed straight into the shower, washing myself free of the chaotic aftermath. 

Debating between a woven sweater and a cashmere pullover I settled on the one Koo loved the most. “Peaches, you’re so soft,” he used to say, pulling me into a tight hug as his hands caressed the delicate cashmere. I wore it on our last date before the incident, the one we spent on Oceana Beach talking about the future, our future. Miraculously, after all this time, it still had his scent, the sweet vanilla musk lingered like the memories of our past. I remember crying sleepless nights, holding the cashmere close to my heart as if it were the only thing left of Jungkook. With my eyes closed, I could almost feel his warm embrace. 

Beep Beep 

My reminiscing, however, was interrupted by Jungkook’s arrival. Quickly touching up my makeup, I grab my purse and phone before locking the door behind me. Maybe it’s from the actual physical rush or the fact that I get to see him again, but my heart sure is beating hard. I could practically feel it in my throat. And, the appearance of his bunny smile as our eyes finally met certainly did not help it either. 

“Sorry to make you wait,” I say out of breath, tucking some stray pieces of hair behind my ear. 

“No worries, I just came,” Koo assures softly, leaning back on his car. 

“So, where is this mystery destination?” I grin teasingly, folding my arms in front of my chest. 

“Surprise, remember? Ladies first,” he grins back, opening the passenger door, before helping me buckle up. And, just like that, my heartbeat went through the roof again. 

Driving down the bridge, we were in awe of the beautiful sunset that covered the sky in warm tones. Blasting our favourite song, Jungkook rolled down all the windows before pausing his phone just in time for the high note. And, as silence filled the car I could feel the flush rise up my cheeks from the sheer embarrassment that was my singing. It wasn’t just a voice crack, it was the complete demolishment of my dignity. 

“Yah, how could you betray me like that?” I scoff in disbelief, rolling the windows back up to shield myself from the passing cars. 

“I couldn’t help it, you looked so concentrated,” Jungkook chuckles, mimicking my singing face. 

“Okay, relax, eyes on the road bunny boy,” I smirk, turning the music back on.

“We’re here,” he says, turning into the parking lot. Looking around, chills run down my spine as I realise where we are. The Oceana Beach. This means that while I was fully immersed in our karaoke session, Jungkook unknowingly drove past the exact spot where he lost consciousness on that cold, winter night. All this time, I’ve been trying to avoid this place in hopes of erasing the image of Koo’s frail body lying on the side of the road. Now, I have to act like none of that happened, since he doesn’t remember any of it. 

“Hey, are you okay?” Jungkook’s voice pulls me out of the spiral, as my chest heaves up. Feeling his hand on mine, my body almost jolts from his touch, unable to hide the fear rushing through my veins. It all felt so surreal, to be looking at him alive in flesh but knowing that the Jungkook I once knew was no longer there. 

“Yeah, I … I just remembered something,” I lie with a nervous chuckle, unbuckling myself. Helping me out of the car, Jungkook looks concerned, eyes searching mine. 

“You sure, you’re alright? I can drive back jus…” 

“No, no don’t be ridiculous. I swear I’m all good,” I interrupt his sentence with a reassuring smile. Reaching for my hands again, only this time with slight hesitation, his worried eyes meet mine as his thumb caresses the back of my palms. 

“Mira, you’d tell me if something was wrong, right?” his words are layered with a tone of fear, uneasiness, and genuine worry. But, there’s a short period of silence, as my mind filters through possible replies. 

“Of course,” I manage a small chuckle, swallowing down the lie. With a nod of acceptance and a soft sigh, he intertwined his fingers with mine, taking the bags from his trunk before walking us toward a small spot by a campfire. Setting everything up, I was commanded to just relax, covered under a woven blanket.

“I used to love making smores when I was little,” Jungkook smiles, handing me a bag of marshmallows, before covering himself under the same blanket. Jimin was right, he could still remember the earlier years of his life, but nothing of the recent events. 

“Can’t relate, I somehow always burned mine,” I frown as he can’t help but laugh, scrunching his nose and letting that bunny smile come on full display.   

“Hey, don’t laugh,” 

“I’m sorry, but how does one mess this up?” he leans closer, nudging my shoulder before looking back at the sparks. If only time could stop and we could stay this way forever. If only he could feel the way my heart ached at that moment. 

“So, Mira, do you have a boyfriend?” his sudden question brought me back again, as my eyebrows visibly furrowed from the bluntness of his curiosity. 

“Why? Are you trying to pitch an offer?” I chuckle, leaning closer to the fire to warm my hands, before looking back at his teasing grin. 

“Just trying to figure you out,” he replies softly, eyes searching mine. 

“I used to,” 

“Oh, yeah? What happened? 

“He moved away. Long distance didn’t work out,” I reply slowly, allowing the fake story to play out without succumbing to the tears. 

“That sucks, you guys don’t keep in touch at all?” Jungkook’s curiosity is innocent in nature but naive to our past. I can’t even get mad at him for digging deeper, even if it hurts.  

“I’m not sure he remembers me anymore,” I sigh, replying almost defeated. 

“That’s a lie. Who could forget you?” he laughs, shaking his head in disbelief, blind to the irony of it all. 

“Yeah …” a little chuckle escapes me as well, as my eyes dissociate into the distance. “I'm pretty unforgettable, aren't I?” 

“Pretty and unforgettable,” Jungkook replies with a quick wink, covering my shivering body with his share of the blanket before taking a bite of my half-burned marshmallow.

--

Replaying our last conversation in my head, I felt bad for snapping at Jiah at the mall. It was totally uncalled for and simply a projection of the thoughts that haunted my mind. Not a fibre of my being meant it as we rarely ever fought or even came to a slight disagreement with each other. To be quite frank, during that time it seemed like every interaction I had was like walking on a minefield. With one wrong move, I was destined to blow up and take everyone else down with me.  

Not being able to talk to her freely pained me, as I grew to miss my best friend with each passing day. And if one thing was for sure, then it was that Jiah deserved an apology as she fell victim to my self-destruction. So, after a few hours of crafting a well-developed apology, I made my way to her apartment, which was literally a level below mine. Nonetheless, the walk there seemed never-ending, most likely due to the sheer panic I was experiencing. It wasn’t fueled by the fear of her reaction but the shame I felt from how I treated Jiah. However, none of it mattered anymore, as I stood in front of her door, hand ready to place a few knocks. That is until it suddenly swings open and our eyes finally meet again. 

“Jiah,” I mumble before she pulls me into a tight hug as tears stream down both of our faces. No words needed to be said. Everything was understood through the emotions we were experiencing. Melting deeper into her embrace, my face dug deeper into her hair as the sweet smell of coconut filled my senses, reminding my body of her aura. I missed her so much that I could physically feel the void in my heartache as my teary eyes searched her sad gaze. 

“Jiah, I’m so sorry,” I manage to let out as she gently wipes the tears off of my face. Holding onto her hand, I keep it close to my chest as my heart beats faster. 

“It’s okay, love. I’ve missed you so much,” she says softly, tucking a few pieces of stray hair behind my ear. And, just like that, we were back in each other’s embrace, making up for the lost time we were apart. Catching up, we spent the whole afternoon discussing everything that happened since our falling out. She showed me the emerald jewellery set Jimin gifted her for their 1 year anniversary and the pictures they took following their celebration. They looked so happy that I couldn’t stop smiling. If they ever break up then I’ll know that love isn’t real, because in my eyes they were destined for each other. No one understands Jiah better than Jimin and no one cares so deeply for Jimin more than Jiah. Simply put, they’re soul mates. 

Feeling lightheaded from all the tears we’ve cried, I suggested we go out to grab some late lunch, or early dinner before going on a walk around campus. Jiah was quick to agree as she changed into some jeans and a hoodie before grabbing her purse and keys. Stopping by my dorm, I quickly touched up my makeup in hopes of not scaring innocent civilians from the aftermath of my mental breakdown. And, as we rode the elevator down to the main lobby, Jiah and I were inseparable once again. That is until my eyes widened at the sight of Jungkook standing by his car, shuffling in place to keep himself warm.  

“Oh? Jungkook? What’s wrong?” I stutter, worried eyes searching his. 

“Sorry Jiah, but could I steal her from you?” he asks softly, as Jiah's face turns to mine. Hiding the way her chin was trembling, she didn't know how to reply before taking a deep breath. 

“Call me when you get back?” she nods, separating her hand from mine as I pull her into a hug.  

“I’ll bring you some pastry from the new shop Tae recommended,” I say with a reassuring smile before waving her goodbye. Making sure she got in safely, my eyes turned back to look at Jungkook’s bunny smile. 

“How did you know I was here?” I ask with a skeptical tone, slowly making my way towards the car. 

“You really don’t think I pay attention, huh?” he says teasingly before opening the passenger door. 

“You mean to tell me that you’ve memorized my schedule?” I scoff, looking up at his softened gaze. 

“Pretty much,” he replies with a grin, leaning onto the door frame before caressing my cheek with the back of his palm. 

“Hey, were you crying?” Jungkook asks, concerned, as I cover my red cheeks with my hair. Way to not be obvious, Mira! I guess, my attempt to hide the fact that I’ve been sobbing for hours failed miserably since he managed to notice it after one glance. 

“Oh, yeah, it’s nothing. I promise,” I shake my head with a soft smile before looking back up at his worried eyes. 

“Mira, you know you can always talk to me, right?” his words are followed by a deep sigh as he crouched down before my still form. 

“Of course, I know that, Koo,” I manage to let out a giggle, patting his head in hopes of making him feel at least somewhat at ease. In all honesty, however, I knew that he wasn’t fully convinced, but I also didn’t necessarily hate that. Because a small part of me hoped that maybe, his curiosity would somehow help him regain the memories he once lost.

“Anyways, where are you taking me this time?” I try to change the subject, as his eyes look back at mine. 

“I need your help,” he replies, buckling my seat belt before heading to the driver’s side. 

“May I know with what?” 

“A song. A love song,” his voice is abrupt, but still layered with tease. 

“I beg your pardon, a love song? Jungkook If you think I’m going to sedate you with some vocals then you are greatly mistaken,” I scoff with my arms folded in front of my burning chest. A love song? As if seeing him again isn’t hard enough. Now, he is giving me yet another reason to cry at night. 

“Shhhh, I’ll explain everything when we get there, just sit back and relax,” he assures me with a sly wink. 

“Mmhhm,” I nod, loosening up the seatbelt before crossing my arms over my chest. Navigating through all the turns, my mind is trying to piece together our destination, until we finally stop at a brick building near the campus gymnasium. 

“Koo, where are we?” I ask cautiously, scanning the premises as he opens the passenger door. 

“It’s a studio my buddy owns. Don’t worry the inside looks more welcoming than the outside,” Jungkook grins, locking the car as we make our way up the stairs.

“Be careful here, they’re still under construction,” he points to a hole in the wooden floor, grabbing my hand as I tip-toe behind him.

“Right, and this buddy of yours, you know how?” 

“He used to produce for the band the guys and I were in. The Bulletproof Boys,” he replies proudly until I burst into a cackle, which promptly faded the smile on his face. I couldn’t help it, I was still not over the first time he mentioned the infamous band name. The Bulletproof Boys. Peak comedy if you ask me. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m not laughing at you, I’m laughing with you,” I try to regain my composure looking at his pouty lips. 

“I’m not laughing,”

“Okay, then I’m laughing at you,” I tease again, poking his side as he opens the door to what seemed like a small recording studio.  

“Hey, guys! Come on in,” a man’s voice welcomes us into the dimly lit room. 

“Hi hyung, thank you again,” Jungkook shakes his hand, before looking back at my flustered face. I’m usually not as awkward but something about being in a room with a stranger, Jungkook, and a hypothetical love song just did not sit well with me. 

“This is Mira, she’s going to be our female lead,” Jungkook smiles, giving me a sly wink. A lead? I really do hope he is kidding. Is today April Fool's or something? Where are the cameras? 

“Sounds good to me, who wants to go first?” the man asks the both of us, as I try my best to avoid his eye contact. Fiddling with my thumbs, Jungkook could sense that I was becoming more and more uncomfortable. So, he suggested that we go in together since it is my first time doing something like this after all. 

“Just follow me okay?” he says softly, helping me put on the headphones before handing me the lyric sheet.

“Alright, let’s just see how the melody plays out, okay? Jungkook, if you want to jump in with your vocals now, by all means. But, Mira, you can just use this take as practice. I want you to get comfortable with the lyrics,” the producer explains, giving me a thumbs up as I nod okay. 

Following Koo’s lead I tried to mumble the words under my breath, getting the feel of the song. And, to my and probably everyone’s surprise, everything was going somewhat okay? We were able to finish recording the intro in under an hour and have just gotten to the pre-chorus. After some practice, I was beginning to feel capable of managing this project, until my ears were pierced with a sudden “I love you,” projecting from Jungkook’s microphone. 

“Oh?” I let out a loud gasp, covering my mouth as my eyes shot up at his form across the booth. Searching my flushed face, he grins, pointing to the lyric sheet on my stand. Furrowing my eyebrows I begin scanning the lines with my finger, realising that he was singing one of the adlibs. However, what came after almost made me sick. Suddenly, it all felt a bit too real. Shutting my eyes, I tried to regain my composure, and within a second, I was back in that hospital room, sitting across from Koo’s frail body as his thumb caressed my palms. 

“I love you, Mira. I’ve been loving you this whole time,” his sweet words played in my head, as tears rolled down my face. Feeling the knot in my throat, I was practically screaming, but nothing came out. I couldn't do it, not then and not now. I couldn’t say the words he desperately deserved to hear. And just like that, I was back in the booth, only this time, my heaving body was plopped on the floor surrounded by both Jungkook and his producer. But, before they could ask me anything, I rushed out of the room, virtually sprinting towards the nearest washroom, where I hoped to lock myself from the outside world. Closing my eyes, all I could see were the replays of that scene before they were suddenly interrupted by the knocking on the stall door.

“Mira! Mira, open up, it’s me,” Jungkook’s voice is heavy, almost breathless. 

“Are you in the women’s washroom?” I yelp in disbelief, wiping the tears off of my face. 

“There’s no one here, come out, please,” he pleads softly, moving back as I slowly open the door. Lowering my gaze, I fold my arms over my chest before leaning back on the stall as if I didn’t just pass out in front of him. Taking a deep breath, I tried to explain myself before feeling his arms wrap around my shoulders as our bodies melted into a tight hug. Oh, Koo, if only you knew how much I missed your warm embrace. 

“Mira, please tell me what’s wrong,” Jungkook whispers, burying his face in the curve of my neck, as I feel his breath on my skin. 

“Koo, I told you, I’m fine,” I managed to lie, placing my hands on his shoulders to create at least some distance. 

“Fine? You dropped to the floor and were unresponsive,” he shouts, furrowing his eyebrows from frustration as his hands grab mine. 

“I … I think my period is coming soon. The days before are always killer,” I explain, trying to convince the both of us, before feeling his worried gaze search my scattering eyes. 

“Your period?” he confirms. 

“Mmhm,” I give him a few nods, feeling his grip on my hands slowly loosen. Tucking the stray hair behind my ear, Jungkook leans closer, tracing the trail of dried tears on my face before letting out a soft sigh. 

“Okay, I believe you. I’ll always believe you, Mira,”

Please, don't.

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[beautifulchris]

love die young

wc: 0,5k

pairing: bang chan x gn!reader

summary: after months of young love, you decide it's best to part ways

genres: angst, breakup!au

tw: mention of death (just a thought) and anxiety

notes: this drabble is inspired by love die young by eric nam as requested by my friend. i hope i did it justice and it's angsty enough djdjdj @badwithten 🙏🏼 also the lyrics are in italic and 2/3 chris' thoughts. i'm reposting the works i posted while shadowbanned, please don't mind me

networks: @kflixnet @k-labels @whipped-kpop-creators

permanent tag list: @badwithten send an ask/dm/comment to be added!

prequel to: fate brought us together again

GIF publié par sevengems07

Chris fell in love with you rather quickly. He was attracted to you the second he laid his eyes on you, your beautiful hair complimenting your face nicely.

He got the courage to speak to you after class one day, and your personalities matched perfectly.

It was young love at its finest.

You’d do everything together, without forgetting your respective family and friends.

This amazing relationship was around nine months old. Then, one afternoon at his house, you said something that shook his very core.

“Chris, I have to tell you something.”

“What’s wrong, angel?” he asked, worry in his voice. You rarely called him by his name.

“I— OK, this is gonna be difficult.”

You breathed, throat tight.

You were seated on each side of the couch. At the sight of your dejected state, he moved closer to you, a reassuring hand pressed against your knee.

In his head, he imagined one of your family members passed away. Honestly, he couldn't think of anything else that could put you in such a distressed state.

“I want to break up.”

He thought wrong.

Your words felt like a bomb exploded in his chest. You weren't one to make jokes this hurtful, and he always knew when you lied.

The fact you were being real filled him with confusion and anxiety.

“I don’t understand,” was all he could reply.

Weren't you happy together during the many months you spent together? Was every single moment all a lie? Did he even know you like he thought he did?

“You don't love me anymore?” he resumed, “Did I do something? Is there someone else? Someone better?”

Self deprecating questions spiraling in his head, he felt like suffocating. He moved back, away from you.

“No, it's none of that, Chris. I promise. I just feel like I don’t know myself, and I need to. In order to know who I am… This journey I have to take alone.”

Tears were staining your shirt, but you didn't care one bit. Seeing him like this hurt more than words could describe.

“Please, don’t let this love —our love— die young.”

“I love you,” you said softly, “I just need to put myself first this time.”

“Y/N,” he whined, your words feeling like a white-hot knife cutting right through him. “I need you to stay.”

You sniffed, caressing his elbow with your thumb. The movement calmed his nerves, if only a little.

“And I need to go.”

Chris’ heart was hammering in his chest.

Tell me it was just a wrong feeling.

“I’m sorry,” you resumed, “I really am. I never meant to hurt you. I’m leaving the day after summer break officially starts. We may never see each other again.” Your voice broke a little.

It was painful— no, crushing the both of you. However, you had to do it. For your own sake.

“I love you,” he whispered, barely seeing you through his tears.

He got closer to you, pressed his forehead against yours.

The goodbye kiss was passionate, teeth crashing and full of love and pain.

“Thank you,” you murmured, out of breath, when you let go of his face, “for everything.”

“Don’t leave me.”

“I have to.”

These were the last words spoken to each other.

You left, heart heavy but determined to find yourself and be able to love yourself like you loved him.

Chris stayed for hours, crying on his couch.

Maybe I should blame myself for never thinking we’d end up this way.

thank you for reading! if you enjoyed, here's the masterlist<3

[vivalarevolution]

𝓑𝓮𝓽𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓓𝓮𝓿𝓲𝓵 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓓𝓮𝓮𝓹 𝓑𝓵𝓾𝓮 𝓢𝓮𝓪

Aemond Targaryen x Bastard-Targaryen Oc    

A/N: This is the second part of Family Ties. Hope you all gonna like it as much as you liked the first part.

English is not my native language, so I am sorry for any mistakes.

Part 1

They returned from a ride together not long after the first layer of euphoria had subsided, which carried through their bodies by the intensity of an act that had taken place so recently. They said goodbye only in the white-haired girl chamber, unable to stop tasting each other's lips.

-You have to go -she said between kisses.

-I don't have to go anywhere, my little flower - he said, taking her face in his big hands.

-The feast is about to begin, Aemond - Daenaera remarked -Besides, we can't be caught in such a position, don't you think? Our mothers will tear us apart at the sight of us like this.

The prince stared intently into her blue eyes, before kissing her affectionately on the forehead, which made her close her eyes, sighing.

-Soon ... we won't have to hide- he replied, a shadow of a promise hiding in his voice, a dark promise.

But Rhaenyra's daughter did not notice it right away, as her uncle left her as he get out of the room so she had time to prepare for the upcoming dinner.

She spent long hours in the chamber. Her neck was marked with numerous lovebites , which she desperately tried to hide behind a thick layer of powder and the fabric of her dress, not even noticing how quickly the time passed around her.

-Where is Daenaera? -The king's tired voice echoed.

Daemon and Rhaenyra looked at each other. Their daughter disappeared from their eyes after the morning events in the throne room and has not been seen since.

-I believe that she is resting- replied the princess- Today's situation finished her mentally ... she is a sensitive child- she added trying in the best way to justify the absence of the girl.

-We were supposed to feast as a family - said Alicent, irritated -Your daughter could respect the king's own wish.

The words pressed on the tongue of Viserys's brother, but before they could've seen the light of day, the blonde's voice spread in the gathered people ears.

-Forgive me for my delay - she confessed, running into the room - I lost track of time - she added, circling the table to have access to her grandfather, whom she kissed on the cheek, not noticing the terror that broke on Alicent's face - I'm sorry - she whispered to her parents.

Daenaera sat down next to Daemon.

Trying to calm her breathing, she scanned the crowd, pausing at Aemond, who had been watching her from the moment she stepped through the wooden doors. They both seem to drown in each other eyes, not paying attention to the world outside of them. During their silent conversation, many words were spoken that passed unnoticed by them.

Only the hand extended towards the girl interrupted their act. The princess looked at Jacaerys, who waited patiently for her hand to rest on his, which soon happened.

Her brother took her before the great table where the rest of her family sat. Aemond watched them all the time, which did not escape his mother's attention, who, knowing her son's character, feared the worst.

The young people started to dance, twirling around each other, moving to the rhythm of the soft music playing behind them, not taking their eyes off each other. Daenaera was surprised how easily it was when the man she loved sat so close to her. But at the memory of him, her blue irises wandered towards him yet again.

Her uncle stared at her with hungry eyes, which did not escape her brother's notice.

-You look beautiful - he said, and her attention was back with him.

-Your fiancée will be jealous - the white-haired girl said, approaching the brunet - Complimenting other women is not good for the relationship.

-It's not a compliment, but honesty - he announced, smiling - Everyone in this room can see what I see.

They both continued dancing for a while. Their mother and the king were staring at them, their image was all too familiar to them, and unknowingly view of young people spread warmth in both hearts.

Everything seemed perfect, as it should always be. But this illusion was quickly broken. Viserys's health situation did not allow him to enjoy the picture, and he quickly disappeared from the banquet hall, having to rest.

Blue-eyed Targaryen followed him with a sad gaze, stopping her dancing with Jace. Her gaze, however, involuntarily shifted to the roast pig, which was placed right under Aemond's nose.

The young woman looked at him pleadingly, shaking her head slightly, but when Lucerys laughed softly, not even hiding it, the white-haired man's fist landed on the table.

-Last tribute - he said, standing up. -For the health of my nephews. Jace, Luke and Joffrey. All handsome, smart ... strong.

-Aemond - his mother rebuked him.

-Come on, let's raise the goblets. For those three strong boys- he said, smiling maliciously.

-Repeat it - the brunet growled, and Daenaera stopped him, placing her hand on his chest.

-Why? This is a compliment - he said surely - I only praise my dear nephews who have protected my dear niece, which will soon become my wife - he added, and the white-haired girl widened her eyes in surprise, not expecting such a turn of events.

-The matter is still not fully settled - the queen said, trying to smooth things over.

-But it is -he said, looking defiantly into the eyes of the girl's angry brother -Daenaera will be destined for me, together we will strengthen our family, creating children as strong as their uncles. Don't you consider yourself strong?

Before Rhaenyra's daughter could react, Jacaerys leapt forward, striking Aemond who did not even flinch, laughing before pushing the dark-haired man straight to the ground.

The white-haired girl ran into the middle, stopping the violet-eyed man with her body.

-You did enough- she said, looking at him offended.

The young man just took a strand of her soft hair, not worrying about what he had unleashed. The sight of his angry nephews, and the shock that accompanied Jace at the moment that a woman he also had affection for was handed over to the man he so despised was worth everything he did.

-Are you sure you want to stay? - Rhaenyra asked her.

-I am - said blue-eyed gril - I have to explain the issues raised at today's dinner. I won't leave it like this.

-I won't lie to you. I do not like that you are left alone in the Red Keep - said the white-haired woman - This place has become a breeding ground for snakes, and you will be here alone.

-Princess Rhaenys also remains in the castle. I will be safe with her - the girl assured, grabbing her mother's hands - I am no longer a child, I have to make my own decisions and, when necessary, defend myself.

The king's daughter merely gave her a worried look before kissing the top of her head as a farewell.

Daenaera stared at her mother until she disappeared through her bedroom door, leaving her.

Being alone, her emotions quickly dropped and her eyes closed in an imperceptibly fast pace, taking her to the land of dreams. But she hadn't been in them for a long time, when the sound of the door closing in the chamber was heard, which was not the quietest , her eyes opened and her body rose to its feet.

Frowning, she tugged on the door handle, but it didn't budge. She tried again and again, but with the same result, the entrance never moved.

Upset, she punched them with her fist and walked away from them.

Hours passed before the girl was released from the chambers. Walking through the deserted corridors, she searched for familiar faces that could explain what had happened.

-Princess Rhaenys - she called when she saw the older woman.

-Daenaera, my child - said the white-haired princess, catching her in her arms.

-What is happening? - she asked confused- I was locked in my room, and there is no living soul in the castle.

The king's cousin grabbed her arm, pulling her in the direction from which the blue-eyed came.

-The walls here have ears- she told her.

-I don't care. I want to know what's going on. Why isn't anyone telling me anything? -she asked irritated.

-The king ... is dead -the purple-eyed woman gentle voice announced, and tears gathered in the eyes of the young Targaryen -They want Aegon to be king, so there's no one here. They're hiding your grandfather's death.

-But, they all swore to my mother. She is the rightful heir - she said - They have no right - she growled, closing her eyes from which the first tears had escaped - Is that why they locked me up? Because they know I'll tell my mother the truth?

-I wish it was just this- replied the fair-haired- But we have become hostages, Daenaera, and until we agree to the queen's arrangement, we will remain in this position.

Despite the pain and bitterness that seized her heart, the young woman nodded her understandingly. There was nothing left for her to do but to look forward to the occasion, because now she was left to herself and to the grace of the grandmother of her adoptive sisters.

She felt a heavy gaze on her as she returned to her bedroom, but from the news she had assimilated, she was aware that her every step was being followed.

Standing in the window, she stared at the landscape with empty eyes, reddened that long ago shedded salty tears.

Her hair was loose and disheveled, the white-haired girl did not have the strength to comb it, she did not have the strength to change clothes, standing in the same dress that she had been wearing the previous evening, not even a little strength to look back when someone entered inside.

-Daenaera -Aemond's warm voice called as he stood behind her, placing one of his hands on the woman's hip.

-Tell me -Daemon's daughter began, and her cold tone of voice hit the man behind her- Was anything that fell out of your mouth the truth? Was I just a pawn that you used in every possible way?

-Don't say that- Targaryen said firmly. -You are the sun, moon and stars of my life. And I'd kill anyone who dared take you away from me. I love you Daenaera.

-As I you. Just as much- the blue-eyed confessed, leaning her head on the prince's torso - This explains why my heart hurts so much. Because your love took root in me deeply, but the knife of betrayal stabbed me much deeper and much harder Aemond.

-I didn't betray you - the young man defended himself -I never did.

-You betrayed my mother- she said turning in his direction- It's like you betrayed me - she added furiously- You changed, but I know that you are still a man who makes the right decisions. So I am begging you.

-I made right decision - he replied.

-No, your mother influenced you - she said -You hated Aegon, you still do. But you choose him as ruler because it's the queen's wish, because she wants it, not you. Aemond we both know your brother never wanted to be king, if he is coronated a civil war will occur ... and we will be standing on opposite sides of the barricades.

-We won't - he growled suddenly angry, grabbing her by the neck to pull her face closer to him -You will become my wife and you will stand with me.

-If you thought our marriage would be about obedience then you miscalculated - she replied, looking into his eye.

-I won't make your life a nightmare- her uncle said seriously- I'm simply asking you...

-You are right- interjected the girl- I am of the blood of the dragon. I create nightmares. And I'm creating one for you at this point. If you love me as you assured me a moment ago, you will join me. You'll do what's right, but if your decision is different, we'll meet in the air ... for the last time in our lives.

Aemond felt torn, although the truth was he wasn't. He knew exactly who would be a better king, he knew that his family didn't care about him, he knew the only person who ever loved him for him was a young woman standing infront of him , his lover , his light. But despite this, he still left his niece's chamber without a word.

During the night, Daenaera was visited by another guest.

Princess Rhaenys crept into her chamber, hidden behind a dark cloak, along with one of the knights of the Royal Guard.

-We have to go, we don't have time. When they find out that you've escaped, they'll get everyone back on their feet - Ser Erryk informed them.

The white-haired girl put on the cloak prepared for her, leaving only a letter to the one-eyed Targaryen, holding on to the last hope that he would listen to her.

She looked from side to side as she walked through the dark corridors of the castle, but quickly regretted it when she noticed the hanged Lord who had so recently welcomed her family to the capital.

The man led her out through the secret passage she used to use as a child.

-I will not leave Meleys- the old woman protested- If I go into the dragonpit ...

-No. They are waiting there, princess. You will not get behind the gate- announced the knight.

-What about Meraxes? - asked the girl, listening to the conversation of adults- If they caught her ...

- There is nothing here for us - the man interjected -You have to go to the river and find a ship before they discover your escape.

However, their plans collapsed as they moved to the next alley. The townspeople pressed on from all sides, all driven by their golden cloaks. Some fled, some followed obediently, but due to the chaos around them, both women quickly lost sight of Ser Erryk , being left to their fate.

Rhaenys grabbed the blue-eyed girl arm, and she obediently followed her, straight to the Dragonpit, which contained their dragons and the coronation of the new king. The mass of people made them blend in with the crowd and sneak up to the place where their reptiles waited.

They both mounted their dragons, after a while they level their eyes.

-Are you ready? - asked the white-haired princess - What will happen will have an irreversible effect in the future ,Daenaera.

-They should know whom to blame when the sky falls down upon them - young woman announced before her eyes moved to the ceiling above them-Meraxes pryagon! (Meraxes destroy)

The animal let out a loud roar before hitting the ceiling. Opening their entrance. Viserys's cousin was behind her as she stepped outside.

The panic spread quickly. The screams of humans and the roars of dragons made the stone walls of the building tremble, but the blue-eyed Targaryen ignored it as she lunged forward on the back of the dragon.

Meraxes growled, occasionally roaring to emphasize her advantage. Along with Meleys, they pushed forward across the seaof people. The royal family followed their every move, trying to spot the people sitting on the beasts, but the dust prevented them from doing this until the reptile heads were almost at their fingertips when their eyes saw the riders.

Rhaenyra's daughter stood in the front as her mother's sword, foreshadowing the inevitable. Her eyes, cold as ice, were fixed on the queen who was terrified.

-Open the door!- Otto Hightower shouted.

-Meraxes! - girl said loudly, despite the calls of the man, who fell silent as soon as he heard the dragon's name.

Daenaera looked down at them, seeing that they are staring death in the face.

Alicent moved to the front, covering her son with her own body. The fair-haired Targareyn didn't do anything about the warning gaze of the older woman next to her, getting closer and closer, until the reptile's head was in front of the brown-haired woman's face, who closed her teary eyes, preparing for the end.

Meraxes opened her mouth wide, and a loud and powerful roar emerged from the depths of her throat, causing everything infront of her to dispel under it's influence.

When the dragon fell silent, she last time looked at the queen, sending her silent information - a declaration of the coming war, which she herself owed.

Only then did she turn, and with Rhaenys she flew away, confident that her message was serious and clear. 

The Dragon Dance has just begun.

The sun was setting below the horizon as Daenaera returned to Dragonstone, to her home. Her mother greeted her first, embracing her with the joy that ended with the news from the capital.

They all felt the heavy effect of the information given to them. The blue-eyed girl thought she could have done better, but Rhaenys quickly corrected her from this mistake, assuring her that she had acted like a queen, not a butcher, and should've been proud of it.

This words tumbled over and over in her head like an endless loop. Only the mighty roar of the animal caused the circle to be broken.

It was only a mighty roar that the loop was broken. Darkness covered the island and the moon was the only source of light, but nevertheless a young woman ran out of the castle with hope filling her.

Her family quickly joined her, trying to stop her from pushing into the mouth of an unknown dragon, but she knew exactly who the dragon belonged to.

Escaping Daemon's hand, she ran outside, being greeted by the sight of Vhagar sluggishly descending to land.

Her uncle was sitting on her back, looking down at her, as she had so recently. The white-haired woman stood in front of the mighty beast, waiting.

-You read the letter - she noticed as he came down from the dragon.

- I've read it - he replied, walking steadily toward her.

-So I want to know - she began, as he stood in front of her -I want to know if you will follow me.

The prince took her cheek then kissed her soft lips with longing, deepening it minute by minute. After a long time he stopped, reluctantly tearing away from her soft and warm lips.

-We are only human, and the gods have fashioned us for love. That is our great glory, and our great tragedy. - he said, looking intensely into her blue eyes that reminded him of the ocean - So if I die for a woman who is the object of all my desires and dreams, so be it.

[starseneyes]

The Art of Saying Goodbye

Some folks somehow attend very few funerals until they reach grey hairs poking through their scalps. Some of us grew up at funerals, constantly donning black dresses, patent leather shoes, with dark-colored bows in our hair. My childhood was spent saying goodbye.

I remember saying farewell to great aunts and uncles, to grandparents, to my friend’s mother who lost her cancer battle when we were in elementary school.

There were gravesides by fields of cotton, champagne poured over tree roots and ash in the front yard, and sitting shiva with my cousins in rooms with covered mirrors.

You’d think in all that time it would be easier saying goodbye. Grief does not discriminate between those who have faced loss repeatedly and those who have seldom met it.

I capture moments on camera more than most, probably because I understand their value when the subject is gone.

There have been times my own family has said, "Rachel, why do you take so many pictures!?" only to use a photo I took of them with the dearly departed because it’s one of the few photos of them that exists.

Tonight I learned my brother’s grandfather—who I’ve known and loved almost my entire life—is in hospice care mere months after one of his daughters died of cancer. I am heartbroken.

I’m looking at photos of PawPaw and treasuring each one all the more. Memories of better days, of time gone by, of the efforts we made to gather even though distance made it difficult.

This is the art—I cherish and cling to what I know is true.

PawPaw loved me as his own from the beginning. Long after his son divorced my mother and he had no reason to still claim me, he did. My daughter plays with a wooden rocking cradle he hand-carved for my baby dolls. He has held all three of my children in his arms in that big chair that is synonymous with him in my memories.

Saying goodbye is never easier, but I paint the picture in my mind of all I love about that person. So even after they leave this earth, I have the work of art that was their love tucked inside my heart.

I love you, PawPaw.

[harrytheehottie]

a spinning out extra: goodbye for now

short + sweet and a little glimpse into their future. promise there is more story to tell with them! thank you for reading and keeping up so far x

“On the last night of the 2021 tour date everything felt different. I was in a different situation mentally and emotionally. Touring was where I let all of that go, it was my escape. I felt like there was so much pressure on my shoulders and I was being pulled in so many directions. Some of it was my own doing - I pushed for a tour because I knew we could do it if we did it right. And it was - is - it is my favorite part of this job, connecting with an audience, playing the songs that mean so much to me. And it truly was an escape for me, I was so regimented so that I could get on stage every night. And we did it, no shows canceled due to sickness. Everyone got through it. And I felt so tunnel vision for those two and a half months that I didn’t even let myself soak in that last night. I was clinging onto it as much as I could. Maybe because part of me knew it wasn’t the final show. We had the album done, all the shoots were scheduled for early next year, we had a release date, I knew I was getting back on the road next summer with the rest of my year fully planned out. But with all of that ahead of me I was still clinging onto being on the stage. I remember just dragging it out, saying my thank you’s and stalling. Hugging everyone I could as I ran backstage to a car to the airport to immediately go into reshoots for My Policeman.”

You were listening back to one of the first initial interviews you did with Harry as you waited for the car that was going to take you to the venue for the last show of Love On Tour. You were thinking back to the first Harry show back at Coachella. The way you were working yourself up in the hotel night before you knew you had to interview him.

And now, you were his girlfriend, going to the final show of this incredible tour run that you were able to hop in the middle of and enjoy the ride. You were giddy with excitement and nerves. You spent the morning and early afternoon with his family together before Harry left for the venue. You were going to meet up with his family and friends once you got there - the day and weekend plays carefully scheduled and curated by Harry himself — making sure that you all enjoyed yourself just as much as he did.

And you did. You danced and screamed lyrics with the closest people to him. You were just as excited to see him run off stage for the final time and give him all the energy he gave the crowd tenfold.

And when you watched that piano get brought up on stage as Harry with shaking hands and voice said “I wrote this especially for you” and he began to play a melody that was eerily familiar to you. You began to drift away from Italy, you were brought back to the night you spent in Oxfordshire right before his first hometown stadium show. You found Harry sitting at the baby piano that was in your room, his fingers gliding across the keys faster than his mind could keep up with, stopping just as he heard you enter the room.

“S’just this thing that I can’t get out of my head. It’s been following me since we first met.” He confessed to you like an omission of guilt of some kind.

“Is it okay that I hear it?” You asked.

Harry motioned for you to walk over, scooting to the side of the piano bench to make space for you to sit. You smiled softly as your eyes met his gaze.

“It can be our little secret.” Harry whispered as you sat down.

You were brought back from that memory when you felt the hug from someone familiar — “Thank you for making him so happy.”’

[preciadosbass]

26/8/24 [skipped yesterday as there wasn’t much info, draft from monday — key + significant photo at end]

woke up at 9 and got ready as soon as possible to meet my extended family early at breakfast as today was their last day. i said goodmorning to boris, got dressed into my skinless outfit [skinless shirt, black ripped skinny jeans, wooden bracelet, panic! at the disco bracelet, mcr bracelet, two spiked cuffs [one with three rows and shorter spikes, the other with two rows and much longer spikes], my diy can tab bracelet, a leather skull-lined adjustable bracelet, taxidermy scorpion necklace, thrifted necklace with all/matching colours of my skinless shirt [the beads look like mushrooms], knee high converse, my mcr danger days zip up, and my pin decorated jacket.] and then packed my bag.

me, my parents and my sister met the rest of our family at our restaurant at around 9:30/40. i sat next to H, the other people on our table were RY, E, and R. i had a couple bowls of cereal for breakfast, and then had to move tables as RY had pancakes [ew] - after my food, while i was just sitting waiting for everyone else, i was sent a picture of boris by my hairdresser who is looking after him. it was an image of him and the hairdressers daughter that came along to meet him. its really nice that even though we’re away, boris still has company. i just hope that it isn’t stressing him out. we left breakfast at approximately 10:40 and headed to the fair.

once arriving at the fair, we established that most of us were having a go on the go karts and organised who was going with who. i decided to go with R as he drives fast normally, and my sister chose to go with RY; the rest went as singles. we spent about 30 minutes queuing and while doing so, i spoke to my dad & R about boris and the rollercoasters at thorpe park. i’m so excited to go with my cousins in september. anyway, me and R got on a green double kart and everyone else loaded themselves into their own. the doubles are allowed to go onto the track first, and as RY + my sister were infront of us in the queue, they were sat in the kart infront of us. they rolled onto the track and the lap started with our karts being neck and neck.

R’s legs didn’t even fit in the car and were getting stuck on the pedals but we ended up overtaking before the second lap started. my grandad and his fiancé were behind of us most of the time, and R’s girlfriend [E] was to our front. now, with this subject, i cant really get anything accurate from this point as the videos of us gokarting don’t show who we overtook next/i cant remember. so i’m going to skip to the end of the ride. right before it ended, we ended up overtaking E somehow, and had RY and my sister right on our tail. we both thought that we were going to be overtaken, but the staff cut the engines as the ride was over so they weren’t able to go past us.

there were a few other people unknown to us on the track, and they were getting mad at R for being at the front the whole time XD, at least we won! now we both just have to deal with my sister going on about it for years /hj - R in particular has a 10 year streak of winning go karting at this resort which i only was informed of after we won, so i’m glad i picked him. however this was the first time he’s been back at the resort since he was my age. he’s also really funny with things like this. the way he narrates things is just hilarious and he dosent even intend it to be half the time. after taking some family photos we all split up. my aunt and uncle said goodbye and walked back to their car, D [cousin #3] said goodbye and went off to the swimming pool to hopefully watch L and W [his partner and her son], and me, my parents, my sister, RY/H and R/E made our way to the beach at 12.

to get out of the fair, you can go through the arcade so my sister made my parents give in to letting her have another go of that minecraft game. [photo at end, ignore the blur my hair looked bad] afterwards, i went up to the beach a separate way from everyone else in order to not get my knee high’s sandy, but i ended up taking ages. once i’d finally gotten onto the path around the beach, we all started walking down it. everyone was just speaking about how our break has been and how much the resort has changed vs when my cousins were my age. i unfortunately didn’t get to change into my knock off converse’s before going to the beach, otherwise i would’ve been able to get some pretty shells.

the walk across it is very long, so i’d say we got about a quarter way down. we walked until we saw the two story accommodations and then headed back. once we did, RY, H, E, and R split off to go home, my mum and sister went off somewhere or another, and me and my dad went back to our chalet. on the way back, there’s an example of what the chalet’s would’ve looked like 80/90 years ago. so i went over to that and had a look inside. they for some reason look [design wise] better than the ones currently. however there’s not much to the interior/uncomfy looking beds/no bathrooms.

i attempted to write a little bit of my journal upon getting into the room, but i ended up falling asleep almost immediately. i slept up until 3 and while doing so my dad went back over to darts and my mum & sister carried on doing their own thing. once i woke up, i got my swimming things ready and all of us [my immediate family, now that everyone else has left] walked over to the swimming complex. there wasn’t any queue today as most people were leaving and the people arrived were still on their way so i was able to get undressed and just hop it within a small matter of time. i once again put on my swimming costume plus shorts and a t shirt.

the first thing we did was queue for the family flume. we queued up until we could pick up a ring and then my mum spoke to the lifeguard about the access thingy. it turns out that i was wrong and they do have an access organisation, they just don’t really talk about it. the way it works is they radio the person up top where you actually get into the slide, and you just make your way to the front of the queue. since the last time we’ve come to this resort, they’ve changed how many people you can have inside a ring at a time. it used to be four so all of us could ride together, but it’s now three. my mum offered to take a blue ring by herself so me, my sister and my dad could go together.

none of us officially agreed because we felt bad that she had to be alone, but we got to the front of the queue regardless. my mum went first, and we followed after she’d come out of the end. i resulted in getting absolutely soaked as the ring tuned right before you get off right where the largest body of water is. its been ages since we’ve been on a flume as a family [sort of, as my mum couldn’t be with us] so it was nice. i think i found it even fun-er as i genuinely couldn’t see where on earth i was going. afterwards, we queued up for the outside rapids. i say queued, but everyone just went in straight away.

i was freezing, mostly likely because my shorts & t shirt hold whatever temperature it is a lot more than just a swimming costume. i wanted to enjoy it but i couldn’t focus on anything other than how cold i was and how weird my throat felt from the stuffiness inside. my sister and dad tried doing our little game where you aim to be the last one out and everyone else tries pushing you/dragging you down the last drop, but i just slid down with my mum. hopefully another time it’ll be better weather and i’ll be able to play properly. i followed on with jumping into the adult pool while waiting for my sister and dad to come out of the rapids.

we barely stayed in there until we went over to the wave pool to see if it was working. it wasn’t the last time we came and it unfortunately wasn’t this time either. but there is still a small cascade of water that feels like what you’d imagine chocolate coming off of a chocolate fountain to feel. afterwards, we went round to the indoor river rapids. we went round two of three times, we’ll at least i did, until we went into the changing rooms. my dad found the locker and got everything out and i got dressed again. when id finished and came out of my stall, my mum and sister were gone. my sister went off somewhere so we had to wait until we could go to dinner.

when she finally reappeared we quickly walked back to the chalet so i could get my bag and brush my hair. once id finished and my sister finally let us leave the room [she wanted me to go to arcade with her], we went over to dinner. i had the stereotypical autism dinner [iykyk] checked on boris via my dad’s camera. i went back from dinner early and i stayed in my parents room for a while while scrolling on various platforms. once my parents arrived back, we set off to a show. we got into the correct venue and managed to get a seat right at the front to the left of the stage.

the show was a comedic ventriloquist performance. the guy had been on britain’s got talent before and got to the finals. i thought that the personality concepts for each puppet was good, but i don’t think that his jokes came across in a way that made them as funny as they could’ve been. the crowd was a little dead and my parents said they agreed but i still feel guilty for not being keen lmaoo but i don’t think it helped that i was really tired. i could barely process anything he was saying. during the show, i got a text from my aunt. it was a picture on boris outside, which obviously made me so happy. but near the end of the show, i realised that he’s outside - on the driveway; alone. so i started getting really worried.

conveniently, my aunt was on her way back to our house to get him inside as he wasn’t having it earlier. i got a text right before we started walking back to room saying that he’s inside and having his dinner followed with a picture of him eating. which was such a relief. i stayed in the chalet until 9:15 when i came along with my parents to see the light show that i also saw last night. i decided to go for half an hour so i’d have enough time to write this journal before having to do my questions about boris. the sound was better this time round as we were slightly further back and more towards the middle. and for some reason there was more cool lights, but i’m not complaining. the actual show started at 9:30 and i left to go back to the room at 10.

when i got back, i scrolled some more on tiktok and looked through some more jackass pictures on pinterest. when my parents got back, i scrolled through all of the pictures of boris on my phone which took at least half an hour. after, i wrote this journal, got undressed into my onesie at 12:20 and eventually finished asking my parents questions about boris at 1. i said goodnight to boris through a picture of him and went to sleep at 1:40.

🗝️ — boris/my cat, questions about boris/i ask my parents questions about my cat to verify he's okay + will be okay in the morning. its a compulsive thing and i'm hopefully going to be tested for OCD in the future.

have a good day/night O_o

[be-the-glenn-to-my-maggie]

We don't have enough Aonung x Rotxo, and im not happy about it.

First of all: what is their ship name?

second: why are there not so many fics about them?

third: i want prompts about them.

the only one i came up with is; Rotxo feeling jealous/left out/ not consider now that the sully kids are here, since Aonung spent all his time (tormenting) them.

one night after maybe five months of the sully being there, is one of Aonung and Rotxo date night (they are officially courting) but Aonung can't stop talking about the sully kids.

"Are you fucking serious?!" asks Rotxo as he suddenly stands up from the soft sand. "What?" asks Aonung with a surprised (and scared) tone, he watch worry as his best friend and boyfriend gets up. "i been planning this night for weeks, because you are always busy or with training or with the family of toruk maktao, we barely spent time together, and once we do you are talking about others!" Rotxo is angry, Aonung saw him this angry only once, when they were little and an older kid pushed Tsireya on the ground. Not hard or on purpose, but still Tsireya who at the time was only a toddler immediately started crying. And as Aonung comforted his little sister, he noticed Rotxo yelling at the older kid and making him run away with tears. Rotxo could be as evil as a sky demon if someone hurt the persons he cares about. it was at that moment that Aonung knew, that was his future mate, not discussing it further. As Rotxo makes his way to walk off, Aonung manages to hold his wrist. his eyes full of regret, he watched as the not-braided curly boy snapped his head towards him. "i swear i stop, I'm sorry oeyä tìyawn, please forgive me, tell me everything you want i won't talk, only admire you" Aonung said and he relaxed when he saw Rotxo lips becoming a smirk. as he settled down again next to him (now closer, he could if wanted rest his head on the other chest) he murmured "Corny skxawng" then Rotxo narrated to the other boy, all the things he done that week, and all the things he planned to do. after they happily eat together and went to race with their ilu, then said goodbye with a kiss before returning to their own family marui.

this is stupid, but is okay because is like 3 am and I'm stupid myself.

You are not stupid, this is adorable! I 100% agree, they were the first ship I thought of honestly. I was like oh this kid is just hanging around all the time and is basically part of the family? Well, one of my favorite tropes ever is the family basically adopting their kids significant other. Rotxo's just over all the time living with Tonowari's family just because he'd going to mate with Ao'nung and everyone just like, knows and now expects him to be around? Iconic.

Like, Ronal's baby she hasn't had yet? That child would just grow up 24/7 with Rotxo around, they've never experienced life without him there. That's adorable. My mom is eight years older than her youngest brother, and going through her family pictures eventually it's just her and her siblings and also my dad there in every graduation picture, holiday picture, and so on. It's so funny and adorable to me. That's Rotxo with Ao'nung.

I think the best prompt for them is that they aren't crazy into PDA, they just vibe mostly in the most secure and confident relationship ever, to the point that it takes the Sully's an absurd amount of time to notice they are even courting. Spider is rescued and Neteyam is recovering and Ao'nung is being a little bit of a dick to Spider, and Rotxo goes "Sorry about my future mate, he can be a dick." And Lo'ak and Kiri are like WHAT.

I can also see a story in the personality differences. Ao'nung... not to be rude, but he's kind of a dick there at the beginning. Rotxo is our sweet baby angel so I can see Ao'nung spending too much time with his little asshole friends and them drifting apart as a result. It's another interesting dynamic.