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lovefoolholland · 1 year

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about you - theodore nott x reader

summary: the train reminded theo of you. thestrals reminded theo of you. what did theo remember about you that wasn’t as heartwrenching?

warnings: angst, a couple of lines from little women (greta gerwig’s movie)

a/n: i can’t stop picturing theo as a the 1975 type of guy. like, he gives off matty healy’s vibes, you know?

English is not my first language!

The platform didn’t quite spark memories of you, but boy did the compartment he and his friends shared sparkle something.

“Theo!” exclaimed Pansy Parkinson, clearly confused by the looks on Theodore Nott’s face “Are you alright?”

That was an understatement.

“Indeed” he answered instead.

“You don’t seem alright” Blaise inquired, and Pansy gave him a glance.

“I’m just tired” Theo said, rolling his eyes.

“Tired of spending all summer thinking of Y/N, I’m sure,” Draco’s voice spilled like venom, and Theo turned to look at him with a dark demeanor in his eyes “am I wrong?”

“Shut up Draco” Pansy said, and then looked at Theo with an apologetic smile.

“It’s fine,” Theo heard himself answer “but you’re incredibly wrong. Apparition always tires me.”

No one mentioned Y/N again, but Theo could feel the tension in the air.

The compartment reminded him of the smell of freshly baked cookies, and how – somehow – you always managed to smell like that. You’ve mentioned before that you’d stayed over at the Weasley’s for a couple of days before going back to school, but it had never occurred to him until later in the relationship that cookies were something Molly Weasley surely did the morning her children (and her friends’ children) left for Hogwarts.

Now, he missed the smell and he missed having his head dipped into the top of your head while his arms tangled on yours as you read some boring book that had to do with the classes to come.

“We’re here mate” said Blaise when everyone but him had gotten out of the compartment.

“Thanks” he said, and watched as a bunch of students started walking towards the thestrals that always drove everyone to the castle.

He didn’t find you in the crowd.

He got up and got out of the train in order to get to the castle in no time. He didn’t want to keep depressing himself over his failed relationship and the memories everything in Hogwarts brought him upon with.

At least not until he saw your wild hair waiting for a carriage.

“Hey” he said, and you couldn’t help but jump in place once you saw him.

“Oh, hi” your voice was as soft as the day he left you “, waiting for a thestral?”

He stared at you for a solid minute, watching how you curved your hands in your robes and a shy blush creeped up your cheeks. He then nodded.

“Yeah,” you nodded along “how long have you been here?”

“Not that long” your voice came out squeaky, noticeably ashamed “I just got off the train. I fell asleep.”

“What?” he asked, quite interested now “Why? Didn’t your friends wake you up or…?”

“I was alone” you said, pulling your lips together.

Of course you were.

“Right,” he said, uncomfortable “we should probably start walking.

“We should, yeah.”

The two of you made your path down the castle in silence, both of you unconsciously thinking of the other.

Theo remembered the first time he got on one of these carriages. He was incredibly nervous, and that’s when a girl with a bright smile sat next to him and started asking him questions. Just… Asking. She didn’t know about his nerves, if anything, she was interested in meeting new people and getting to know them.

That girl was you.

Four years later, during the Triwizard Tournament year, he had told you about the Yule Ball during your ride to the castle and had noticed the way your cheeks flushed when Draco mentioned he was going to ask Pansy to go with him, pretty proud of himself.

Days later, he asked you, and you went together.

Now it all seemed like a daydream, a cruel, plain daydream he had the day he told you he didn’t want a relationship with you anymore. How he told you that anyway or another, you were an obstacle in his life.

How stupid of him.

“How has your family been?” you asked, head tilting towards him.

He frowned.

“Father’s been pretty busy. And mother's portrait has been asking about you.”

Of course he had to say that.

He looks up to you to find a startled, yet satisfied expression on your face. He feels as if hot porridge has been spilled all over his face and neck because he knows he has turned red out of embarrassment.

“Send them my greetings” you simply say before accelerating your pace “, come on, we’re going to be late for dinner.”

“Wait, T/N,” the lights of the path leading to the school flick a little, and you stop in your tracks as he reaches to you “how have you been?”

You open your mouth and then close it. It almost seems as if you want to tell him everything about your summer but… But you can’t.

“Good,” you say, and start walking, slower this time, to the castle “my parents have been pretty busy too. The Ministry is going mad over the news of the return of You-Know-Who.”

“Yes, of course,” he says, and then slightly smiles “did you stay at the Weasleys?”

He’s met with silence. You look at him with suspicion, and he notices.

“What?”

“What is the point of you asking these questions?”

He scoffs.

“Alright, sorry. I won’t be asking anything else.”

“No, Theo– I mean, Theodore,” your breath hitches in your throat “it doesn’t bother me. At all. You know it never will.”

He knows what you’re asking.

But why?

As the two of you step into the entrance of the castle and Flitwick tells you to register yourselves, Theo realizes why.

“I’ve missed you” he confesses, and notices you try to evade his eyes “, Y/N–”

You take a sharp breath before speaking.

“Stop it,” she says, and he notices the tears forming on your eyes “Theo, you’re being mean.”

“Mean?” he asks, eyes narrowing.

“Yes, mean” you emphasize in the word, and suddenly the two of you find yourselves right at the doors of the Great Hall.

Theo realizes neither has the intention of going in.

“I’m telling you how I feel, I don’t see how that’s mean.”

“No,” you say again, and now inevitably make eye contact. He instantly regrets, you’re on the verge of tears “you don’t get to say this, not after hurting me so much.”

“Y/N…”

“Not when I haven’t forgotten about you, not completely” you hiss, and take a step back.

Theo’s mind runs wild.

“You haven’t forgotten about me?”

The choice of words amuses him. How can you forget all that you’ve been through? From sleeping in each other’s arms on the train to the sight of you wearing captivating robes to the Yule Ball, dancing until the last song ran out.

“No, okay? I’ve tried, and I’ve tried, and I’ve tried, but I can’t” you say, tears sprinting down your cheeks as they turn red “I miss you on the train, I miss your arms around me, and I never know what to think about but…”

“You think about me” he finishes off, and takes a step towards you “, do you think I’ve forgotten about you?”

He knows you know that’s impossible.

You put your lips together tightly and look up at him with a frown.

“No.”

“That’s right,” he says, cupping your cheeks with your hands. He cleans the tears with his thumb “I’m sorry, I’m really sorry.”

You close your eyes once you feel his skin against yours.

He silently dips his head and kisses your forehead. You still smell like freshly baked cookies.

“I’m sorry.”

You simply nod.

He sighs and dips even more, sliding his hands against the back of your neck before kissing you more feverishly than before. Both of your heads spin as every student storms out of the Great Hall, and even a poltergeist calls you two out.

“I will never forget you,” he assured you “all I can think about… Live about, is you. I’ve never stopped.”

You smile and nod, opening your eyes and clenching him by the robes surrounding his body.

“Never let go, Theodore Nott.”

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the-modern-typewriter · 11 months

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Hello :) Can i request a mutually pining hero x villain piece where the hero finds out about the horrible treatment the villain goes through in prison (whenever the villain gets locked up) and they have an emotional confrontation where the hero apologizes and promises to fix the situation? a little bit of holding the villain's chin and asking them how much it hurts? just the heartwrenching stuff.

Whether you see this or not, I want to say thank you for everything you've shared with us. You are extremely talented, and an inspiration for people who want to improve their writing. Thank you, thank you. :') <3

"They hurt you."

The villain stilled. They kept their gaze fixed on the sky, their hands focused on the ember of a cigarette clutched between their fingers, their ears tracking the thump of music spilling out onto the street.

Inevitably, despite all of those efforts, their attention locked on the hero standing next to them.

Fury radiated from the hero, and something more. They didn't have to glance over to see it. They didn't have to glance over at all when the hero edged even closer to them, brow knitted, eyes liquid guilt in the pooling streetlight.

The villain took another drag of their cigarette to steady themselves, filthy habit though it was, before exhaling. "We're not doing this here."

The thin alley behind the club was empty except for the two of them, but that was hardly the point. The air was warm with the promise of summer and freedom. They didn't want to think about any else.

"Where are we doing it then?" the hero demanded.

The villain's jaw clenched. They stubbed out the smoke and began to turn away.

In an instant, the hero's hand was firm on their shoulder, pinning them in place. By all rights, if things in the world made sense, the villain should have flinched at the rough touch and the hero should have recoiled. The villain didn't flinch. The hero wouldn't hurt them, not like that. They knew it in their bones.

The hero didn't recoil. They ducked their head to try and catch the villain's eyes again.

The villains scoffed and slid their gaze away, throat tight.

"I want to fix it," the hero said. "This should never - if I'd known -"

"-You didn't know." It was forgiveness and accusation all at once.

"I should have."

"You didn't."

The hero had always been kind, in their interactions, in the complicated way that the two of them could be kind to each other. Not polite, not nice, not civil. But kind. Of course they hadn't known, and of course the villain hadn't told them. They would never have told them. Not in case, just in case, the hero had actually known all along. Not in case, just in case, the hero didn't care. Not in case, just in case, the hero thought they deserved it.

"You going to let me go free next time?" the villain asked.

The hero's jaw clenched too. "I'm not going to let them treat you like - like -"

"Like a criminal? You can say it. That's what I am."

"Like a monster."

The villain smiled. It didn't quite reach their eyes, but nor was it ungenuine. "Also what I am."

The hero's other hand shot out, seizing the villain's chin, forcing their gazes to lock. "No."

"Yes." The villain studied them. "Don't be obvious."

"You deserve better."

"Because you don't think I'm a monster?"

"Even if you are," the hero whispered. "And I'm sorry. I'm just - so sorry."

The villain didn't know what to say to that. The hero's sincerity, raw as an open wound, floored them utterly. They swallowed, pulse fluttering against the warm press of the hero's palm.

Contact. Firm, unflinching, not unkind contact.

"How much does it hurt?" the hero asked.

"This or the - before?"

The hero let go instantly, hand flying back to their side as if they'd been burnt.

The villain's hand rose to where the hero's hand had been, chasing the memory of it. The words 'you didn't hurt me' perched on the tip of their tongue. The villain swallowed them.

"I'm going to end up back there," the villain said. "You can't fix that, because you're the one that catches me. The only one who can."

"If you stopped..."

"If you stopped," the villain said.

The hero squeezed their eyes shut for a second, pained.

The villain reached out, despite themselves, to grip the hero's chin. Feather-light. "How much does it hurt?"

The hero laughed, a little raspy, a little not laughing at all. "This should never have happened."

"It happens to more than just me." I'm just the one you care about. The knowledge was as dizzying, as giddying and heady, as it was awful.

"If I asked you to tell me what they did to you, would you?" the hero asked.

"You already know."

The isolation. The power restraints that were always cinched a little too tight. The beatings. It was always better near the end of their sentence, to allow time for the bruises to heal, and it was never anything permanent. Nothing that could be used in a court of law. Nothing but words and hearsay.

"Yes." The hero watched them.

"But you want me to tell you anyway."

"Yes."

The villain dropped their hand and itched for another cigarette, and itched to continue touching even more. They turned their gaze away again and cleared their throat, because the hero's expression...

The villain had been hurt so many times before. The hero made it look new.

"I'll fix it," the hero said, less a wish or a want and more a promise. "This won't happen again. Not to you. Not to anyone."

The villain knew better than most that promises were easily-broken, fragile things. Still.

"What do you think I've been trying to do?"

The hero flinched.

The villain didn't recoil. Monsters didn't get to recoil from the worst that the world had to offer.

They started walking, and paused at the end of the alley where the shadows turned to light and life and the open world. They glanced back to where the hero stood, perfectly still and perfectly shattered, hands flexing like they were itching to touch again too.

Sometimes monsters got kind things too, even if it made no sense, even if what was theirs felt like it should belong to everyone else in a thousand different ways.

"We're not doing this here," the villain called out. "So. You coming?"

The hero followed.

The villain knew they always would.

#hero x villain #villain x hero #heroes and villains #villains and heroes #writing #story #angst #writing snippet #hero and villain #villain and hero

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ot3 · 1 year

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What Is ORV?

The number one question I get asked on this blog, now answered better than ever. Today I am going to formally introduce you to Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint

To start off this recommendation: ORV might very well be my favorite thing I've read. Ever. If I could only reread one thing for the rest of my life it'd be this webnovel.

My elevator pitch is this: something with the cosmic-scale goofy video game nonsense and intricate setting comparable to Homestuck in its prime, paired with the deft emotional poignancy and emotionally-driven fights of Mob Psycho 100, topped off with the sort of compassionate and heartwrenching metanarrative of Undertale.

ORV is a love letter to it's own readers. ORV revels in the joy of losing yourself in fiction, even when it's the kind of fiction that tends to be considered lowbrow or worthless. It's something that dances the delicate line between recognizing the difficult nature of using media as escapism without condemning it. I've rarely seen anything else that accomplishes everything it sets out to do in its narrative with such remarkable precision. Frankly if you're reading a tumblr media recommendation post in 2023, I can almost guarantee ORV has the kind of meat you're looking for in a narrative, whatever that may be.

The story follow the antics of protagonist Kim Dokja, a 28 year old office worker on an expiring contract, whose only real joy in life is reading his favorite massively long and massively boring webnovel. One day, the novel’s events - worldwide deathmatches aired for the entertainment of mysterious higher beings called ‘constellations’ - begin playing out in reality in a sort of reverse-isekai. Kim Dokja, the only longterm reader of this webnovel, finds himself uniquely poised to succeed based on the advantages given to him by his knowledge of future events, but the webnovel’s actual protagonist, Yoo Jonghyuk, is a violent monster who will stop at absolutely nothing to complete his goals, no matter the cost to anyone else. Kim Dokja finds himself in a delicate dance of guiding the events of the story to play out more favorably than the version he read while trying to avoid being massacred in the fallout, all while trying to see it through to the story’s end.

Below the cut I'll go into a more in-depth (but non-spoilery) explanation of what exactly makes ORV so unique and worthwhile, and what you're in for if you choose to read it.

Clocking in at 550 chapters, and over 1.3 million words in English, ORV may seem incredibly daunting to dip your toes into, but I assure you it's worth every moment. I would read 1.3 million more words if they had them for me. Here are some things about ORV I consider to be selling points, not necessarily in any particular order:

The tone. Its funny, for starters. It is extremely funny, which is very high up on my media priority list. In ORV, there will be incredibly grim things that make you laugh, and incredibly cringe and silly anime bullshit that will hurt you as heavily as any other media you’ve seen. I always love this kind of tonal whiplash when it's well executed, and ORV probably executes it better than anything else I've seen to date.

It’s got fun and fascinating worldbuilding mechanics. the core concept being ‘reality now operates on the rules of a shitty novel’ means that the worldbuilding doesn’t have to function logically, it functions thematically. It’s explicitly stated in ORV canon that some of the internal rules governing this new reality are objectively really stupid and illogical, but they just have to roll with it because that’s what was in the book, and i think it’s a really enjoyable way to do it. This may at first sound like a copout to excuse bad worldbuilding, but I promise it isn’t. The worldbuilding is actually incredibly deeply thought out, but it doesn’t exist for the sake of rational function, it exists for the sake of furthering orv’s thematic arcs. The rules by which this universe operate do a magnificent job of strengthening the core concepts the authors are exploring.

It plays with the trappings of isekai/litrpg in a really thoughtful way. These are genres I'm not super familiar with, so I can't comment on this point too heavily, but with my limited knowledge ORV feels a lot less of a deconstruction of it's genre and more of a celebration/interrogation of it. Despite that, it's still accessible to readers such as myself who are not super familiar with these genre conventions.

It deals with morality in a really wonderful and nuanced way. there are almost no characters in ORV’s extremely large cast who are just explicitly morally condemnable, and almost every conflict allows you to understand exactly why the antagonists believe they’re in the right by opposing the actions of our protagonists. The central conflicts are never pure right and pure wrong; they’re always about contrasting goals, conflicting worldviews, and different priorities between ends and means. this makes the conflicts all feel so much more dynamic and engaging than those where the only stakes are physical harm.

The characters interpersonal relationships are some of the most interesting I've ever seen. ORV is very slow burn and it takes a long time for a lot of these to come out of the woodwork, by design, but by god once they do they fucking hit. Similar to the plot conflicts, the interpersonal conflicts also almost never occur where there’s one side clearly in the wrong. The characters are almost all genuinely attempting to do their best by each other, and the tension comes from the ways in which human communication is fundamentally imperfect and part of our feelings and intentions get lost in translation. it’s very heartwrenching and heartwarming to see unfold, in equal measure.

Following from that, it’s a narrative that really meaningfully prioritizes non-romantic relationships over romantic ones as the central focus. Orv is about love, but not about romance. Obviously there’s shipbait and the ot3 is real and good and my friend but if you’re looking for deep complex platonic, (found or otherwise) familial, and antagonistic relationships that never get ruined with forced romantic arcs, we got em baby!

The pacing is unlike anything i’ve ever seen before. from a purely technical standpoint, it is genuinely a fascinating case study in how to execute a narrative that is almost constantly escalating without exception. there is very little downtime or breathing room in orv, which is insane for something that clocks in at over a million words, and somehow, it still works. i’ve never felt more like a frog in a pot of slowly boiling water than i did when i was reading orv and i can’t believe they pulled it off. it’s so interesting to read something like that.

It is a tragedy without resorting to cynicism and a very adult narrative that’s really steeped in childlike wonder. I’m a big fan of cartoons made for children. Cartoons made for children are some of my favorite things to watch, but of course children’s media will always be simplified and not very relatable to an adult audience. ORV is very much a serious and heavy adult narrative, and a deeply tragic one at that, but it never delves into torture porn. It’s a very compassionate piece of media overall, that holds a lot of reverence and sympathy for the ‘naive’ optimism of children that gets stripped down over time. if you, like me, feel more like a grown up child than an adult some days, I think it’ll hit for you.

It is extremely cathartic and meaningful. I am not exaggerating at all when I say that reading it gave me the closest thing I have ever felt to any sort of spiritual breakthrough. It helped unfuck my head a ton during some very grim times and i think the perspective it offers on the value of human life and our relationship to storytelling is a really really good one.

And if my word isn't enough, here's some reviews from satisfied customers. With that, I'll leave the rest to you, and hope you one day reach the end of the story.

#media recs #orv

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love-hatred-stuff · 1 year

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"Doll, don't ignore me, please. Tell me what I can do to make it up to you."

All he heard from you was some unhappy mumbling. You looked at him with annoyance before you disappeared into the bedroom. Something he wasn't used to at all. Something that made him feel like someone you might hate. His heart wrenched in sadness.

There's nothing in this world he could hate more than you being upset with him. It made him feel lonely and even more angry at himself than you probably were. It was torture.

Bucky continued to sit there at the kitchen island, his face in his palms, devastated. He loved you so dearly, you were his god damn life and now you wouldn't speak a word to him. It felt like a knife was stuck in his ribcage and he couldn't seem to get it out as long as you were so mad at him.

He knew a relationship couldn't always be perfect. But with you it was. Nothing was as easy as loving you every step of the way. Sure there were some ups and downs, but nothing that wasn't fast to be solved.

He sighed in desperation. He didn't know how to make you talk to him again. All he could give you was some space. But it was your choice if you wanted to forgive him or not in the end. He knew that.

So he waited. Smoked more than usual, drank more than usual. On a Tuesday? Didn't matter as long as you wouldn't give him another chance.

He wrote you an apology letter, a love letter, bought your favourite flowers everyday.

He was lost without your love and everyone knew that. It was hard to overlook. You two weren't just lovers, you two were partners, friends, soulmates and everything in between. Bucky cherished the ground you walked on. Because you were always there as his emotional support, you calmed him down, made him feel safe and complete. He needed you.

James often worked from home, so he felt your absence immensely since you were always out until noon. And if you were home and not going anywhere else but work just to avoid him, you were never in the same room as him.

He could call himself lucky to still be able to sleep in the same bed as you. You weren't evil, you wouldn't let him sleep on one of your small leather couches alone, those were great for cuddling and taking a nap but not for a seven hour long rest. Besides, you knew he wouldn't be able to sleep if not beside you.

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Everything went on for about a week. Until everything came crashing down on him.

Bucky couldn't sleep. He just couldn't stop thinking how you were slowly but surely falling out of love with him since the day that he decided to use your trust. And he couldn't help but start crying at this heartbreaking thought. First it were just tears that didn't seem to stop flowing but after a few minutes he couldn't stop letting out those heartwrenching sobs coming out of him. Of course you noticed it and it didn't bring you joy or whatsoever. It made you feel like crying too.

"Bucky? Bucky, please." You sat up immediately.

You shoved all those hurt feelings to the side for a moment and moved towards his side. He turned around slowly and looked at you. You couldn't describe how broken the man in front of you looked.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Y/n. Please forgive me. I- I need you. I can't breath-" He broke down again.

You brought him to your chest, letting him hug your waist while crying into your shirt. You shushed him, held him against you and gently stroked his hair. Until he slowly stopped sobbing and crying, though he didn't intend to let go of you anytime soon.

"James, I know you're sorry."

He looked up at you. That's the first words you spoke to him in days and you call him James? Tears were gathering in his eyes once again.

"Oh, my love." You touched his cheek and took a good look at him. Bucky sighed and closed his eyes. That sounded much better.

"Bucky." He snaps back into reality, opening his eyes and seeing your gorgeous face, that he missed so much looking at.

"Kiss me, you moron." And he immediately did, more than eager to rest his lips on yours after such a long time.

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A/n: lol, just felt like breaking my heart again

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fluff

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minastras · 3 months

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we fell apart when the sky was orange (and now every sunset reminds me of you) // beomgyu

Two long years after he broke your heart, Choi Beomgyu remains your first and only love. Unfortunately he’s now also your colleague, and you’re not sure if you ever really got over him.

at a glance: gender neutral reader, exes to lovers, office au, angst, fluff, ft. enhypen’s heeseung, itzy’s ryujin, and p1harmony’s keeho

words: 6.5k

warnings: swearing

notes: happy valentine's day!! i'm like an hour late but shh hope u enjoy <3

——————————

Your one-and-a-half year long relationship with Choi Beomgyu, the first serious relationship either of you had ever had, ended abruptly during a lovely evening in the East Coast Gardens. You’d gone there together with some of your friends for a picnic and to watch the sunset, celebrating finishing your second year of university.

At some point, you and Beomgyu left the rest of the group to take a walk along the beach. The sky was tinted that showstopping blend of pink and orange only seen at dawn and dusk, and he was holding your hand.

“We have to break up,” he blurted out, letting go.

When you two walked together, it was typical for neither of you to speak for long stretches of time. You weren’t exactly sure what you expected him to break the silence with, but it surely wasn’t that.

“What?”

“We have to break up,” he repeated, barely even looking you in the eye. His voice was flat, but his jaw was so tight he was slurring all of his words. “It’s, uh, it’s been real.”

The glow of the sunset, as breathtaking as it was, faded into the background for you. “It’s been real?” you echoed in disbelief, your mind still lagging ten paces behind your mouth. “Gyu, you can’t be serious. What happened?”

He took a step back from you. “Nothing happened. We just aren’t right for each other.”

“But- but we’re in love,” you protested, hating how childish you sounded. Maybe you were. Maybe it was your juvenile foolishness that had convinced you he meant it when he said ‘I love you too’, as if the ‘too’ tacked on at the end wasn’t a clear enough sign he just said it to agree with you.

You couldn’t remember what happened after that — what he’d said in response, if anything, whether you’d stormed off first or if he’d left you there in the sand, if you had cried. All you remembered was the heartwrenching drive home, shoved in the backseat next to a friend you’d long since lost touch with, periodically tipping your head back so your tears wouldn’t spill over.

——————————

Two years later, everything worked out in the end. You’d like to think so, at least, because you and your best friend Ryujin had just graduated from university at the top of your cohort. With your grades, you both easily secured jobs at the biggest accounting firm in the country as recruits in their prestigious Graduate Talent Programme. It was your first day on the job, and you were about to meet the other GTs.

“No way,” Ryujin muttered.

“What?” you asked, but as the question was leaving your mouth you saw what she was pointing at. Or, more accurately, who.

Beomgyu saw you at almost the exact same moment you did. He locked eyes with you too quickly for you to have pretended not to see him, so you stood rooted in place as he made his way over to you. The expression on his face was unreadable.

“Hey, Y/N,” he greeted. You couldn’t recall the last time you heard your name come out of his mouth. Even though the office was stuffed with people more important than you two, people you should’ve been introducing yourself to, you saw and heard and felt no one but him.

“Hi, Beomgyu,” you returned, his name heavy on your tongue.

He rocked back on the heels of his black dress shoes — so opposite to the sneakers he used to wear everyday back when you dated, the white ones you had given him for his birthday four years ago and he refused to replace despite them just about falling apart — and put his hands in his pockets.

“Fancy seeing you here,” he said. You sensed a degree of wariness creeping into his tone now. He looked exactly the same, barring his slightly shorter hair with his icy grey highlights taken out.

“Yeah, what are the odds?” you asked, making casual conversation as if you couldn’t hear that same wariness in your own words.

He wore a crisp white button down, starched impeccably into perfect plains that wrapped around his broad torso, a thin black tie, and black slacks. He’d clearly gotten better at tying ties. You remembered struggling through the How to Tie a Windsor Knot WikiHow article with him before one of his job interviews, both of you flailing around helplessly for nearly an hour before you succeeded.

He nodded to someone standing behind you, prompting you to turn around. “Nice you’ve got Ryujin with you. Heeseung got in too, if you remember him.”

You did. When you and Beomgyu were still together he often told you about Heeseung, an old friend from high school he gamed with online. You wondered what he had told Heeseung about your breakup.

Thankfully, someone else called for everyone’s attention right then, and you booked it to the other corner of the room.

“Good morning everyone! I’d like to introduce our brand new GTP recruits. GTs, if you would please come to the front.”

You and the four other GTs awkwardly shuffled forward, and you ended up standing right beside Beomgyu. The universe hated you; that was the only explanation. Ryujin was too busy stifling her laughter to feel sorry for you.

“Joining our auditing team are Shin Ryujin, Lee Heeseung, and Yoon Keeho. Joining our advisory team are Y/N and Choi Beomgyu. Please give them all a warm welcome!”

The rest of the office clapped politely while your world crumbled around you (fine, you were being hyperbolic). Of all the people on the planet you could’ve been paired with, it just had to be him.

He still smelt the same, wearing the same cologne he’d worn when you were together. The same cologne which clung to your bedsheets for weeks after you broke up.

You closed your eyes for a split second, looking down so no one would notice, and took a deep breath. Then, you raised your head again, turned to Beomgyu, and held out your hand.

“I look forward to working with you,” you said with a polite smile.

He raised an eyebrow but shook your hand anyway.

——————————

Your new team lead whisked you and Beomgyu around from office to office, throwing more information at you than any normal person would be able to process, giving you no room to breathe — let alone talk to the man who’d broken your heart two years ago and was apparently not over you, either.

Clearly, not talking to him didn’t mean you weren’t thinking about him.

Perhaps he was thinking about you too, because you’d catch him watching you out of the corner of your eye when he thought you were distracted. But your interactions with each other were limited to curt, perfunctory statements and uncomfortable glances.

After clock-off, your new colleague Keeho suggested all the GTs go out for drinks. He claimed it was so you’d get to know each other better, but it was clear he just wanted drama. You were at the bar ordering another mocktail when Beomgyu pulled out the barstool next to yours.

“Make that two, please,” he told the bartender, sitting down. Neither of you said a word. You snuck a glance at him to find him already looking at you, so you turned away and stared straight ahead.

Were you over him?

Truthfully, you weren’t sure. You couldn’t tell the difference between being hung up on an ex and grieving someone who’d been such a pivotal part of your life. Maybe it was the whole ‘you never really get over your first love’ thing other people talked about.

He cleared his throat. “Hey.”

You winced, bracing yourself for awkwardness. “Hey.”

“So, uh, you look-” he hesitated, cutting himself off, “How’ve you been?”

“Good… good. You?” You were starting to regret ordering a non-alcoholic drink, because he was just as pretty as you remembered and it was doing your head in.

Ryujin always said you needed to date again, that you’d never move on unless you put yourself back out there. To your credit, you did try. But you ran all your attempts at dating into the ground with all the same flaws of yours that had ended things between you and Beomgyu two years ago.

“Good…” He paused again, and then straightened his back and put his hands on the bar counter, open and declarative. “Can we not do this? Can we just start over?” he asked.

“Start over?” you echoed.

“What happened between us happened so long ago. We don’t need to dredge all that back up again,” he said.

The bartender returned with your identical drinks and, before you could say anything, Beomgyu handed over his credit card. He waved away your surprised gratitude, raised his glass, and held the other one out to you.

Maybe to another person, someone who knew him less well than you did, he’d seem cool and confident. But you could see a tentativeness in his eyes, a slight shake that told you he was worried you wouldn’t respond well, that you wouldn’t take the olive branch in his hand.

You let out a small laugh, the group chat revelation from this morning still rattling about in your head, and tapped the rim of your glass against his.

“Sure, Gyu. Let’s start over.”

——————————

You and Ryujin spent the entire night and most of the next morning’s commute to the office debating what ‘start over’ meant. She thought it meant going back to the courtship stage (whatever that was), and you thought it meant erasing yours and Beomgyu’s history entirely and beginning anew. As strangers.

“But he isn’t over you!” she protested, drawing ire from the elderly couple sitting in front of you on the train.

“That doesn’t mean anything,” you mumbled. “Nothing’s going to happen between us. We literally didn’t say a word to each other yesterday at work.”

Ryujin shook her head. “You’re wrong. There’s something there. I don’t know what, but there’s something.”

Nearly a whole week passed before you began to admit she was right, when even you could no longer bury your head in the sand and pretend you didn’t see it. You kept telling yourself you were content with carrying on your ostrich roleplay for as long as humanly possible, but it was starting to grate on you.

Every year, the GTP recruits were expected to put together a proposal paper and presentation on what they felt the company could improve. The deadline was in two months — how were any of you supposed to be familiar enough with the company by then to make policy recommendations?

“Our team lead keeps saying the company needs ‘fresh eyes’,” Keeho said during your first meeting for the project a week later, already careening off topic. “She stares right into my soul whenever she says ‘fresh eyes’. It’s fucking creepy.”

“It is creepy,” Heeseung agreed, twirling his pen between his fingers.

“Do we all have our notes ready?” Ryujin asked, wrangling the meeting back on track.

Beomgyu helpfully gathered up each of your notes and passed the stack over to you. You were friendly now after that night at the bar, but there was so much tension between you two that even your team lead pointed it out.

“You’re in charge of this, right?” Beomgyu asked. You had volunteered to do the boring work of collating all of your ideas and suggestions into a draft skeleton outline for the proposal paper.

“I’ll help you,” Keeho offered, smiling at you from across the table. “I’m happy to do the auditing parts.”

Beomgyu folded his arms and leant back in his chair. “They can manage.”

You had to stop going giddy every time you saw him in a shirt and tie.

“Actually, help would be useful,” you said to Keeho, ignoring Beomgyu not because you were annoyed, but because you didn’t know what to make of his interjection. Unbeknownst to you, Beomgyu scowled.

——————————

You and Keeho had arranged to work on the report after lunch that day. Beomgyu wasn’t keeping tabs on you or anything, he just made sure to remind you that you had a 3pm advisory meeting with him the same afternoon. Yes, that was the only reason he cared about what you did with your time.

And the only reason he was hovering around by Keeho’s office cubicle was to make sure you weren’t late for the meeting. Not because you were there. Not because you were with Keeho. Not because you and Keeho kept laughing and playfully pushing each other. What could possibly be that funny, anyway?

“Can I help you?” Keeho asked Beomgyu, finally noticing his presence.

Beomgyu ignored him and looked straight at you, tapping his watch. “Let’s go. It’s 2.50.”

“Ah, already?” you mumbled, mostly to yourself, gathering your things up from Keeho’s desk. “Sorry, Keeho. I’ll finish it tonight.”

Keeho smirked as his gaze shifted from you to Beomgyu and then back to you, before he let out a quiet laugh. “Don’t worry about it; I’ll take it from here.”

“Thanks, you’re a lifesaver!” You scrambled to your feet to follow Beomgyu to the lift lobby.

The meeting room was just three floors above you, and as soon as Beomgyu led you into the lifts he braced for you to ask him why he was in such a rush. It only took a minute to get there. But you didn’t; maybe you would have a couple of years ago.

——————————

Beomgyu waited until you and him were alone in the office — an hour or so after the end of the work day — when he just couldn’t take it anymore.

“There’s so much weird sexual tension between you and Keeho,” he said, trying and failing to sound casual. To both his amazement and relief, you didn’t seem to notice.

Your lips twitched, like you were about to reveal something but quickly decided against it. Beomgyu remembered when he was able to read you like an open book, but those days were now long gone and he couldn’t tell what you were thinking anymore.

“He’s hot. And tall. And he seems nice,” Beomgyu continued, unsure what he was trying to accomplish.

“I don’t really date anymore,” you blurted out, seeming to regret saying that almost immediately.

“Why not?”

You shrugged, now regaining your composure. “I… I don’t think I’d be a good partner. For anyone.”

It was Beomgyu’s turn to falter. He watched you carefully as the realisation started to sink in. The walls of the now quiet office felt like they were closing in on him. You’d blamed yourself for the breakup. He’d made you think you were too broken for love.

“Oh, god, did I do that to you?” he asked, so quiet it was nearly a whisper.

“…It was a long time ago,” you replied after what seemed like forever, a non-answer if ever there was one, glancing up from the desk and flashing him a tight-lipped smile. It didn’t even get anywhere near your eyes. “We don’t have to get into it. I’m sorry I brought it up. Like you said, we should just start over.”

He swallowed his pride and shook his head firmly. “No, I was wrong. We should talk about it. I don’t want to leave things unsaid.”

The version of him that had broken up with you would never have said that. That version of him refused to even admit when he had a headache. That version of him dumped you because he couldn’t handle you ‘always needing to talk about feelings.’ It was hard for him to stomach that fact, even all these years later.

“I don’t know- I had so many issues and I expected you to be my answer to all of them. I just figured that if even a guy like you couldn’t stand me, I was beyond redemption,” you shrugged.

Once, during a particularly hectic exam season back in university, you had completely shut yourself off from him, all your friends, even Ryujin. You didn’t talk to anyone for a week. You didn’t leave your room. You didn’t answer any of his texts or calls. He knew your parents were fighting and your rent had gone up past what you could afford and you were struggling to pass your classes. There was nothing more he wanted than to drive over to your place and hold you, to tell you everything was going to be fine, but you refused to let him.

“Do you still think that?” he asked, his throat feeling exceptionally tight.

“Maybe. I’m not sure,” you admitted.

Even back then he knew why you refused, although he wasn’t ready to admit it at the time. Whenever you did try to open up to him he would shut down, so eventually you stopped trying.

Your phone alarm went off before he could think of a response, a generic default ringtone. It used to be a recording of him quacking like a duck, because for some reason you found that hilarious and he liked doing it to cheer you up.

“I should go. My train’s coming,” you told him.

He blinked, blindsided. “Oh- okay.”

You packed your bag and stood up, walking to the lift lobby and pressing the button. Then, in a fraction of a second, you dropped the facade.

“Don’t take what I said too seriously, Gyu,” you assured him. “I’m alright now. I’m in a good place.”

He stared at your eyes, trying to decipher them, but you seemed to be telling the truth. After a second or two, he pulled his shoulders back and nodded. There was still a weight on his chest.

“I’m glad to hear it,” he smiled.

The lift doors behind you opened, and you smiled back. The weight lifted.

“See you tomorrow, Gyu.”

——————————

The GTs were meeting before the work day officially started to discuss the progress you and Keeho had made yesterday. You and Ryujin got on the train an hour earlier than usual.

“Are you gonna say yes?” she asked, after you told her Keeho had asked you out on a date yesterday. She had a slice of buttered toast in her mouth in flagrant disregard of the ‘no eating’ sign right behind her.

“I don’t know,” you groaned, dragging out your last word like a whiny child. You only acted like this in front of Ryujin. “I should, right? He’s nice.”

“I don’t think you should date people on the basis of niceness. I think you should date them based on whether you actually like them,” she said, never being one to sugarcoat the truth for you, before her eyes widened in realisation. “Don’t tell me it’s because of Beomgyu.”

“It’s not,” you said, and she gave you a knowing look. “Well, it’s not not. What if I’m broken?”

Your conversation with Beomgyu hadn’t left your head since yesterday. You were still bewildered that he’d insisted on talking to you about your breakup; it was so unlike him. Or at least the version of him you remembered.

“I don’t understand how you can take him breaking up with you the way he did as an indictment on you and not him,” Ryujin said. “He always acted like you were some big emotional burden when most of the time you were just a bit sad and needed a hug. And he couldn’t even handle that.”

——————————

Beomgyu, Heeseung, and Keeho were all already in the meeting room when you and Ryujin showed up, even though you were five minutes early yourselves.

“Keeho brought doughnuts,” Heeseung announced instead of saying ‘good morning’, pointing to the box on the table. Ryujin grinned and skipped over to the box to grab one.

“Y/N, do you want Oreo or cinnamon?” Keeho asked, checking to see which flavours were left.

Beomgyu looked up from his phone and said nonchalantly, “Y/N doesn’t like eating in the morning.” The statement was addressed to Keeho, but he looked right at you as he said it.

You stared back at him. He remembered, but of course he did, because you used to watch him eat breakfast while only nursing a giant thermos of coffee every morning. He always nagged you about not skipping ‘the most important meal of the day’, and you always insisted that that was a myth. (For the record, you were right.)

“Uh- yeah. I’m good, thanks,” you stammered after far too long a pause.

Keeho cocked an eyebrow, looking between you and Beomgyu like he had yesterday with a slight smile on his face, before taking the last cinnamon doughnut for himself.

Five minutes before nine, you wrapped up your meeting. Beomgyu and Keeho offered to stay and reset the meeting room while the rest of you hurried to your desks, until you realised you’d left your phone behind and circled back to get it. Right as you reached for the door handle, you heard something that made you freeze.

“Y/N told me you asked them out.” Beomgyu’s voice was barely muffled by the closed door.

Peeking through the tiny window of the door, you saw Keeho shrug. “I did. But I’m not holding my breath.”

“Why? They think you’re hot,” Beomgyu said.

You were so going to kill him. That little-

Keeho laughed and shook his head. “Nah, I’m doomed by the narrative.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Beomgyu asked. That was the man you recognised, defensive and immediately assuming intent to offend. You heard them walking towards the door and scrambled to hide behind the wall around the corner, holding your breath.

“Relax, man,” Keeho chuckled, opening the door. The two men walked right past you, not noticing you. “I’m just saying you should go for it.”

Beomgyu frowned. “What?”

“Yeah. No regrets, right?”

——————————

Beomgyu was acting differently with you now. He was smiling more, joking around more. You were trying not to think about it too much — you didn’t know what it meant, and, more worryingly, you didn’t know what you wanted it to mean.

You two stayed late one Friday night to work on a presentation deck, being the only people left in the office by 8pm. You ordered kimbap and fried chicken and ate dinner together at his cubicle, balancing paper plates on your knees while he typed and you peered over his shoulder.

“This feels familiar,” Beomgyu mused, turning around to look at you. You must’ve looked like a deer in the headlights to him, because you instantly forgot whatever you were about to say when he smiled at you.

In university you had spent many a night in his apartment sitting beside him at his desk, watching him game with Heeseung (whom you only knew at that point as a disembodied voice that lived in Beomgyu’s headset). You were usually snacking on something and you’d feed him whatever it was while he was playing.

“So, did you say yes to Keeho?” Beomgyu asked, sounding flippant, but you could tell he’d been waiting for the right time to ask you that for a while.

“No, he- that’s weird,” you frowned, after you pushed the ground floor button and it failed to light up. Then, the entire lift rattled. “That’s weirder.”

He reached over your shoulder to push the button again, his hair brushing against the back of your neck. Once more, it didn’t light up. But you were worrying about other things, namely how broad his button up made his shoulders look and how good he smelt.

“Answer my question,” he pressed, all while repeatedly poking the button like an impatient toddler.

You would’ve laughed, if not for how close he was standing to you making it impossible for you to think straight. “We decided against it- are we actually stuck in here?”

It was silent for a few seconds as you looked at each other, confused. And then he began to panic.

“No, we can’t be,” he insisted, jabbing his finger at the lift button over and over so hard you thought he’d break his knuckle. His eyes were wide and his breathing was shallow and fast.

“Gyu-”

He cut you off with a loud wail and slapped his hands onto his head, throwing his back against the wall behind him and sliding down it dramatically. You bit back a laugh, the feeling of his body right by yours a second ago now a distant memory.

“We’re trapped! We’re gonna die!” he shrieked, his voice amplified by the tightness of the space you were in. The lift rattled once more.

You stifled a laugh. “Dude, chill.”

It had been nearly four years since your first date, but you still remembered it vividly. He’d brought you to a night carnival, and one of the first attractions on the itinerary was the haunted house. He confessed to you months after you started dating that it was all part of his grand plan to make you fall in love with him: that you would get scared and cling onto his bicep and he’d heroically protect you.

The actual experience went like this. You and him made it about a fifth of the way through the haunted house — with you taking the lead and him screaming bloody murder the entire time — before he tapped out and you turned back. Upon shamefully emerging from the haunted house’s entrance like a couple of quitter chickens, he sank to the floor with his head in his hands, exactly as he was right now. Of course now he was in a button up, tie, slacks, and dress shoes rather than a university sweatshirt and jeans, but the pose was nearly identical.

“I’m too young to die! But I’m too old to get on the news for dying young!” he babbled. Maybe he was delirious from the stress of the job. Ignoring the meltdown unfolding by your feet, you dialled the emergency number above the lift door and gave the man on the other end of the line your lift’s reference number.

“The maintenance guy will be here in a few minutes,” you relayed, hanging up the phone.

He took his head out of his hands and stopped screaming. “Oh. I might have overreacted.”

You laughed, joining him on the floor on the opposite side of the lift. “You think?”

It was silent for a while, save for a few odd creaks from the lift here and there. He had his legs stretched out in front of him and they looked about a billion miles long. You couldn’t really look at him too much without your heart feeling weird.

“Hey,” he started, kicking your shoe to get your attention. “What happened with Keeho?”

He was still on that.

“Nothing. We decided it wasn’t a good idea,” you answered, pausing for a moment to mull over whether you should admit to the conversation you had eavesdropped on last week. You choose to keep your mouth shut.

Beomgyu stayed silent for so long that you got over your refusal to make eye contact and looked up to see if something was wrong. He was frowning. The lift was so small and quiet you swore you could hear your own heartbeat echoing off the walls.

“It wasn’t your fault, you know? Us. How we ended,” he said, chewing nervously on his bottom lip. “I was always shutting you down when you needed to be comforted. I even said you had too many issues.”

You winced at his last sentence, words that still stung nearly three years after he’d first uttered them to you. He must have seen it on your face, because he closed his eyes and looked away.

“Maybe we both met the right person at the wrong time,” you offered, trailing off as he silently got up from his spot opposite you and sat down next to you instead. If he moved even a millimetre closer, his shoulder would’ve touched yours. You held your breath and turned to him, your face so close to his that you could count his eyelashes.

“Yeah, maybe.” He held your gaze, unwavering.

The lift rattled even louder this time, but although you jumped he didn’t even flinch. Instead, his eyes drifted down to your lips. You used to rest your head on his shoulder when you two sat next to each other like this, whether it was on his sofa or at a restaurant. It was your ‘thing’.

He leaned in, and you found yourself drawn towards him. There was something magnetic about him that seemed to pull you forward, a compulsion of sorts. He used to taste like the pomegranate lip balm you kept in your pocket that he constantly nicked because he was too lazy to buy his own. You wondered if he’d bought one for himself after you split up. His nose brushed against yours and your eyes fluttered shut.

BANG!

You jumped apart, exchanging alarmed glances at the deafening metallic clang of the lift door.

“Maintenance! You guys okay in there?”

Beomgyu recovered from the shock before you did and sputtered out an, “All good!” But he was looking only at you. Beside him you were frozen, certain you could still feel the warmth of his breath on your face.

“Stand back from the doors!” the maintenance man continued.

You scrambled to your feet first, straightening your jacket and grabbing your bag. Your face felt like it was on fire. After (in your estimation) about a billion hours, the lift doors finally parted to reveal a beaming maintenance man.

“Thank you so much, sir. Have a good night,” you rushed out, mumbling a goodbye to Beomgyu without turning to look at him. He didn’t get a chance to return the pleasantry before you were gone.

——————————

Neither of you spoke of the lift incident after that night. You acted like nothing had ever happened, and Beomgyu seemed more than happy to go along with your charade.

Your team lead had invited you both to tag along to a meeting with another company’s headquarters; neither of you had any direct involvement in the project, but he’d asked you to prepare a short presentation on your suggestions for the project anyway. It would be a good experience for you, hence why you agreed to it, but now you were starting to question your judgement.

“Are you nervous?” Beomgyu asked you under his breath as you walked down the corridor side by side to the conference room.

“Is it obvious?” you asked. Your thumb drive loaded with presentation slides was burning a hole in your pocket. Your palms were sweating, but you didn’t want to say that out loud. He’d just start rapping Eminem’s Lose Yourself at you and ruin your focus.

Truth be told, you didn’t really know why he was here — he wasn’t giving a presentation and had nothing to do with the project.

“It’s obvious to me,” he answered.

If you read into that even a little, you inferred he meant that he knew you better than other people did, that he saw more of you than they did. If you read into your own relief when he told you this morning he was coming for the meeting, you inferred having him with you made you feel more secure.

You needed to stop reading into things.

But how could you, when he checked where the air conditioning vents in the meeting room were the second he walked in so he could get you both seats far away from them, knowing you got cold easily? And how could you, when he swapped your chair with his own on instinct to give you the one without any broken wheels?

After the meeting ended, you took the train back home with him. It was a two hour ride.

“You did great,” he praised, leading the way to an empty train carriage. As he walked, he slipped his fingers under his navy blue tie, loosening the knot and popping open the top button of his shirt. You tried not to stare.

“Thanks.” You sat down in the window seat, and he took the one beside you. His shoulder touched yours. Were train seats always this narrow?

There was a part of you that wished Ryujin were here to knock some sense into you and/or crush your delusions before they became too well fleshed out, but she was starting to warm to Beomgyu more and more these days. She was even encouraging you to talk to him. Ryujin? Encouraging you to talk to Beomgyu? Maybe you’d fallen into the matrix.

——————————

“I’m on my way home. How was work?”

You hadn’t dreamt about Beomgyu in a long time, but your dreamscape’s recreation of his voice still remained accurate. Warm and melodic, with a smooth lilt that made anything he said sound poetic.

“It was alright. Are you with Y/N?”

Heeseung’s voice. Hm. Dreaming about Heeseung was weird, but not entirely out of the question. You’d gotten to know him pretty well-

“Shh, man. They’re sleeping right beside me.”

At that, you finally woke up. Your head was resting on Beomgyu’s shoulder instead of the window pane, somehow having found its way to him while you were asleep. Perhaps he’d shifted you there himself, like he used to do whenever you dozed off on the wall of yours and his favourite study booth in the back of the university library.

He didn’t notice you were awake. You kept your eyes shut and remained perfectly still.

“Have you guys talked?” Heeseung asked on the other end of the phone.

“No. What am I supposed to say? Sorry I almost kissed you, I think I’m still in love with you?” Beomgyu said quietly.

“Yeah. Literally.”

“I can’t do that, man.”

“Why not? The universe gave you a second chance. No regrets, right?”

Beomgyu was silent for a few seconds.

“Yeah, I’ll see you at home.”

He hung up without giving Heeseung a chance to reply, and you felt him shifting around as he slipped his phone into his pocket.

Still. Not that he fell in love with you again, but that he never stopped. He was still in love with you.

His hair brushed the side of your face when he turned to you and called your name softly.

“Y/N, wake up.”

You’d never been a particularly good actor, but you pretended to wake up as best as you could and hoped he didn’t see through you.

“Look,” he said quietly, even though there was no one else around, pointing out the window.

The sun was just beginning to set, glowing a brilliant warm orange and glazing the clouds around it in red and yellow. Pink streaks spanned across the sky and through the window into the train carriage.

“It’s beautiful,” you whispered.

When you turned back around, Beomgyu was watching you instead of the sunset. He looked away immediately, clearing his throat and shifting around in his seat. You wondered if he was thinking of the same thing you were.

“Sorry I woke you. I didn’t want you to miss the sunset,” he mumbled. His hands sat folded awkwardly in his lap like he didn’t know what to do with them.

Still. Still?

You could count on one hand the number of times in your life you’d been well and truly speechless; this was one of them.

He seemed to mistake your silence for something else — you didn’t know what — because he turned away and dropped his gaze apologetically.

“Hey, about the other day,” he said, trailing off, “I’m sorry I made things weird.”

You weren’t going to lose him again. You’d had enough heartbreak.

“You didn’t,” you rushed out, placing your hand over his. The movement was sudden and uncoordinated, an impulsive lunge forward rather than a measured and gentle reach. “I wish I hadn’t run away like that.”

Beomgyu’s eyes were wide, his lips parted slightly in shock. You didn’t know if your words or your actions had caused that.

“Really?” His voice was all breath and no depth.

The melting light of the sunset behind you poured into the train carriage through the window, lying across his face in ribbons of gold that made his skin glow. The hue was almost indescribable, the type of colour only found during sunsets, and the colour you associated only with Choi Beomgyu.

His fingers curled up to lace themselves with yours, and you felt a coldness on your skin that gave you a jolt. It was a ring. Plain, thin, silver.

You bought him matching rings for your six month anniversary, thick patterned silver ones with intricate carvings and twisted rope trimmings. They were cheap costume jewellery — you lost your job around then and that was all you could afford — and they stained your fingers green after a few days.

You gave up and wore your ring on a chain around your neck instead, but he wore his on his index finger every day, all the way to the end. You used to call him 1% Shrek.

He squeezed your hand.

Now or never.

“I don’t want to… I don’t think I can pretend I’m not in love with you anymore,” you admitted, your heart battering against your rib cage like it was trying to burst out of your chest.

Beomgyu’s grip on your hand tightened. “Me neither,” he whispered.

You looked at him, at the softness in his brown eyes and the gentle slope of his nose. He had made all the first moves in the past. He asked you out on the first date, he initiated your first kiss, he introduced you to his friends and family first. You were done with waiting for him to lead the way.

“Can I kiss you?” you asked.

All his nerves appeared to melt away. He grinned cockily, the exact same grin he donned right before he was about to do something annoying.

“Kissing on public transport is so passé,” he said with a dramatic sigh, even though you were the only people on the train. “We aren’t horny students anymore, we’re grown adults with serious jobs-”

“There’s a juice box sticking out of your bag,” you pointed out, suppressing a laugh.

He moved towards you, his free hand coming up to rest on your cheek. Like your muscles had held onto the memory of his touch all these years, you leant into the familiar warmth of his palm.

“You make a compelling argument,” he muttered, before bringing his lips to yours.

Peppermint. He used peppermint lip balm now.

When was the last time you’d kissed? You couldn’t remember. But you remembered how it felt — the way his lips slotted perfectly between yours, his curve of his hand on your face, the angle of his shoulder exactly where you always held onto him.

When you separated, he pressed a final quick kiss to the corner of your mouth. That was his trademark; he never kissed you without doing that.

“I can’t believe you came back to me,” he said. The diffuse amber of the sunset glazed over his face, making his eyes sparkle. Something about the way he looked at you slowed your heart rate, made you feel sedated.

You ran your thumb over the ring on his index finger, now warmed from the heat of your locked hands.

“Always.”

——————————

thanks for reading!

-minastras <3

#tomorrow x together #txt #choi beomgyu #txt beomgyu #txt x reader #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu angst #beomgyu fluff #beomgyu au

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tangymac · 14 days

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i think something i adore abt geode / lostshipping as a whole is just how much they could be a parallel to lou / lilly as a couple. especially in the quest for lost powers! what i love about geode & the finders is that it’s always been inevitable to Me that cole would get a family of his own with someone to love nd raise kids with his whole heart, you can spot it all over his writing and how his parents raised him.

in the quest for the lost powers we get a moment between lou and cole where he tells him about his past concerns of his worth when it came to what he meant to lilly, and if he really brought anything to the table for her if he wasn’t directly helping in battle and such. i re read it recently and there is just an undeniable familiarity to the first time we’re introduced to geo in TLoLT. he keeps the secret about cole s rock form in fear of cole Leaving him if he didn’t need him for something like a power boost. lou worries that he may not be enough for lilly unless he had powers. it’s a Heartwrenching parallel in my eyes ..

it isn’t until lilly returns home, worried out of her mind, that lou realizes that lilly needs him just as much as he needs her because they keep each other grounded. their FAMILY keeps them all grounded and if that isn’t just the Biggest premise of the finders then i don’t know what the fuck is! the finders have each other when no one else wanted them and it’s each other that allows them to never feel lost or forgotten again. geo shouldn’t need to worry about his self worth because cole doesn’t care about how powerful he is or if he can help him in battle, what he cares about is making sure geo and the other finders are SAFE. he wants to be there for them as long as they’ll have him OUGH I LOVE THEM. i enevr would’ve thought lou and geo would parallel in this way but it ties up everything into a nice little bow . Geode are perfect for each other in ways People do not Comprehend

(tldr this section of cole s chapter is something i can vividly hear geo saying, cole s entire storyline when it comes to family and geo s abandonment issues align like no other ship for me)

#lostshipping #geodeshipping #ninjago #dragons rising #ninjago cole #ninjago geo

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anneapocalypse · 1 year

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I just can't help feeling that Solas taking Lavellan's vallaslin and then leaving them is so cruel. I know he doesn't mean to be cruel. I know he doesn't even mean to do it like that; he wants to share the truth about himself, and he just can't, and it's that realization that pushes him to end the relationship, because of how close he comes to telling everything to this person he loves. I know that he loves Lavellan and wants to share just one piece of the truth, even if he can't share all of it.

He sees right away how much the revelation about the origins of the blood writing has hurt Lavellan. And if Lavellan pushes back on the idea of removing them, he drops it immediately. He never forces the issue.

But it's still such a sudden decision for Lavellan to make, after such a painful revelation. And what if they do end up regretting it? What's going to happen if they return to their clan, or try to make contact with another if Clan Lavellan has been lost? How will they begin to explain this to their fellow Dalish elves (keeping in mind that they don't yet know who Solas is)?

"I met a lone elven apostate, and it turns out he's a Dreamer, and he told me that one of our most sacred traditions is actually a mark of slavery. And I believed him. And I let him remove my vallaslin."

I think the decision might be easier for Lavellan whose clan is still alive and well, if they know they still have a home and a family to return to. For a Lavellan who has lost everything, their home, their family and friends, who has probably had to fight to maintain their identity and their beliefs in the Inquisition even if they've also made friends and found community--the choice is heartwrenching.

In taking the vallaslin, Solas takes from Lavellan the most obvious sign of Dalish identity, community, culture, and tradition. And then he breaks up with them. Lavellan can't even say "I've lost everything but at least I have you."

Every time I see gifs or videos of that scene, of Solas gently saying, "Ar lasa mala revas," literally I give you your freedom, it just breaks my heart, because I know he means it. I know he wants to give them that.

But what kind of freedom is it? And at what cost?

#solas #lavellan #solavellan #solas x lavellan #dragon age meta #blunders of thedas #for the record I'm intentionally being gender neutral with lavellan #ardently support shipping Solas with all genders #heartbreak for everyone!#i realize this sounds critical #but it's coming from someone who loves solas for what that's worth

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cemeterything · 5 months

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Do you have any favourite fitzier fanfics :3c

yeah alright:

to be as one is (series) by TheGoodDoctor (rating: G, T) (this one deals a lot with gender and self identity and never fails to make me smile no matter how rotten i'm feeling)

Through by robokittens (E) (one of the tags on this fic is "spiritual woundfucking" and i feel like that recommends this fic better than i can in my own words)

oh you pretty things by wildcard_47 (T) (one of many 'Francis buys James a dress' fics, but this one stood out to me because the dialogue and prose is just so thoroughly delightful to read)

The Shipmaster's Song by ripeteeth (T) (what if... we were shipwrecks at the bottom of the ocean... and we were both doomed polar explorers...)

Sunlight, sunlight, sunlight by for_autumn_i_am (E) (a 'what if Carnivale didn't go up in literal smoke' au where everything aches with the promise of future tragedy but still manages to be heartwarming)

an unexpected gift by aes3plex (G) (JFJ meets Francis' extensive family. all of this author's works are incredible but this one was my favorite, equal parts charming and heartwrenching.)

twin high maintenance machines by veganthranduil (E) (obligatory 'the one where they both have erectile dysfunction but they still try to make it work' fic; selected this one specifically for the equal parts delightfully and painfully in character dialogue.)

Swallow by Daucus (T) ('gross' intimacy my beloved. you know the scene in Princess Mononoke where San feeds Ashitaka when he's too weak to care for himself so that he'll survive and heal? well that rewired MY brain and this is the fitzier version.)

burnt-out match in a dark room by deadgreeks (T) (marriage/death parallels and the intimacy of performing someone's last funeral rites. this one's a 'keep a pack of tissues on hand just in case' one.)

singing even so by shortcrust (T) (Orpheus and Eurydice in the Arctic. had me staring blankly into space and hugging myself as if chilled for nearly an hour after i finished it.)

The Gunner's Daughter by reinetta (E) (the most gorgeously written and romantic depiction of a sadomasochistic scene i've ever had the pleasure of reading)

Da mi basia mille, deinde centum by anactoriatalksback (M) (makeout fic, but calling it a "makeout fic" is so vastly underselling this. the plot is literally "they make out", but you will be hanging on to every word and astonished by the amount of character study that the author manages to pack into that premise.)

Buried deep as you can dig inside yourself by 5runner5 (M) (PTSD recovery fic in a pre-PTSD recognition era, and by far my favorite for how honest it is about the difficult reality of communication and recovery in a relationship)

shall warmer, sweeter be by baestard (T) (a wonderful exploration of transgender identity and self-discovery that remains impressively period accurate. or: 'what if we survived the arctic and we were both girls'.)

#fitzier #i haaaaate maintagging but i might need to refer back to this

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wayfayrr · 8 months

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This fic was originally inspired by the song Kerosene by tart, as it fits got the strong vibe of a yandere needing more in my opinion and I would recommend listening to it while reading <3 but eventually it spiralled into a full on self-aware sky x reader

And with that tone, they ask me 'If I'm ready…'

Impatiently asking me to throw away my entire life for them, to cast aside everything I've ever known for the chance, the meagre chance, to stay in Hyrule. To join their duet of death, a fight that seems never-ending.

With only Sky offering me an alternate way, offering instead something more valuable than his own life to me. The offer to follow me, of his own regard instead of a twisted love demanding it of me.

Yet, still sitting here with Sky has its own charm to it. I don't feel pressured to talk or do anything unlike how it can get with the others at times.

"You know my dove, with a touch of your life I was filled with envy… The fact that I haven't been able to live with you, know you longer than I have. I scare myself sometimes."

His chuckle wasn't as reassuring as he would thought it should be if he were trying to be reassuring to me. He could just be nervous after what he simply just admitted to. I know I would be.

"How would you scare yourself with that Sky..?"

"..."

"... I don't - It's just - I… Sometimes I uh- have thoughts. This really isn't easy to say."

Why is he looking at me like I should already know what he’s talking about like he’s going on about an inside joke?

“It was a catastrophe, as a result of your sanguine vanity. Your confidence that everything was just a game, when you really knew better didn’t you?”

“...Knew better? What do you mean?”

“That I could see you… that from the moment outside the academy when I was told what buttons you would need to press to control me I started to connect everything, that I was alright with you being the one who had this ability to puppet me? You knew, didn’t you? You fell in love with me at the same time didn’t you?”

“Sky I - I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Is he - No he can’t be. He couldn’t have known he was in a game. He can’t have been in love with me since then… even if he did know… He should hate me. At best, this is some broken-down mechanical love, some remnant of stray code… Oh what am I doing lying to myself, nintendo made Link as a blank slate, there would never have been any failsafe like that. Because it shouldn’t be possible for him to become self-aware.

“When I first woke up that day it was like there was this other part of me, you it was you, but it didn’t take me long to realise that you weren’t a part of me. You were you and you could control my every single action.”

“My world at that point was a plaything for you but I wouldn’t have had it any other way. I didn’t need to eat nor sleep when you were there for me, it was like I was complete. I was blinded by looking for Zelda for so long that I wasted the time I could’ve spent just basking in you.”

“I love you more than I need to breathe because you complete me… but you don’t feel the same.”

“Because I’m just a toy to you aren’t I? Be-because you left me. You just left, you left me behind and didn’t come back.”

Everything, he knows everything. Where do I start, how do I handle this? I can’t leave him spiralling like this, it’s not fair to him. Would he even believe what I’ll tell him? Do I want to tell him?

“Sky I’m not going to lie to you. I did see you as just a game, I didn’t know that you were a person that you were alive. But I know better now. You’re not just a toy.”

“But I was just that to you… you - you were just like a god that was sent from above to help me in my darkest moments. I didn’t- I mean I know, I shouldn’t have been able to have known any of that but I just - I don’t - I- I don-”

Tapering off into the most heartwrenching sobs after all of that isn’t something I could ever have imagined coming from the hero of the skies. I can’t comfort him. I’m not a monster.But I’m not a god either. Even if that’s what he saw me as, even though that’s what he wants me to be.

“Sky I’m not a god. I never was, but I do care about you, I’ve said it before and seeing as you need to hear it now more than ever. I love you Sky. The you, I’ve gotten to know over this whole thing with the shadow.”

“But I - [Name] I just -”

“I know this is a lot to go through. It must’ve been absolute torture going through all of that. Can you breathe for me? I’m here to listen to you but I can’t if you’re too stressed to speak properly.”

“I - Thank you.”

The tears staining his face are starting to dry now, leaving streaks as proof of his own sadness, ones that have too much emotion behind to have been faked. All of this has to be true, there’s too much detail on things I’ve never mentioned to him for him to be lying to me based on one thing he’s heard about my own world. Which means he’s been aware of me for so much longer than he’s let on. That he might have known me for far longer than he’s let on. There’s no safe way to ask this now though so I’ll just have to hope he brings it up on his own.

“I first figured out that I was this character after the dream I had about demise, after I woke up, when Horwell was talking to me about the lost remlit and how he told me to press z to target him, not even calling me by my name he called me Sky. But what made it even worse is I could remember fighting demise, making up with Groose and getting the triforce yet I was back to the start and being called something different.”

“That’s when you knew? Did you realise it was me immediately or did that take longer? You don’t have to answer of course, just talk about what you’re comfortable with Link.”

His breathing is slowly evening out now, clearly his earlier panic is starting to subside. Although now I don’t have my past option of being able to move away from him anymore, not with how he’s leaned all his weight against my side in, if he wasn’t so deeply upset about all of this, what I could call a desperate attempt to keep me by him. With all of this only seemingly proved more by how he’s tangling his fingers in mine to hold my hand tightly against his chest.

“I first knew it was you when Zelda pushed me off that landing again. Your disgust at her doing that, at her not trusting me even though you already knew it was going to happen at that point. It wasn’t until I was first in the temple with Fi that I saw you properly though. I couldn’t even spare more than a second to bask in your beauty because, well I was scared that if I acted too differently from what you expected then you would just abandon me, but I wanted too more badly than anything. What I wouldn’t have given at that time to just have been able to spare more than a simple glance at you. Who I wouldn’t have killed to get the faintest chance to simply hold you.”

“...What was that last thing you said?”

“What do you mean my dove? The fact I would’ve given anything to spare a glance at you?”

“No that other thing you said.”

“That I couldn’t act differently out of fear that you would abandon me to a lifeless world where everyone was acting like soulless husks only repeating the same line over and over and over.”

“No that very- you know what, don't worry about it.”

The last remains of his tears finally fade away now as he nuzzles himself further into my shoulder and brings up our intertwined hands to kiss my own. Drawing out the moment as long as he can, fitting as he’s spent so long pining for this very touch. What’s going unsaid here is more than enough to be unsettling now, with how overbearing his feelings are getting and how desperate and cheery he’s sounding now. It’s a terrifying combination.

“I realised pretty quickly that it was your second playthrough. That I’d missed out on basking in you because I was too focused on saving Zelda, but now I’m done with saving. I don’t want to go back to my own world, I don’t want to go back to her with how she’s always asking for more. I wish I could’ve just crawled through the screen and into your arms instead; burn away my past but I never could. I was stuck in that damned game, watching as you were so happy with me even though I wasn’t a person to you - just a toy. I could hear all the things you were saying from you complaining about your day, to how you kept calling me your precious baby girl.”

“Oh so… you heard everything… everything I was saying?”

“Everything. From the sweeter things like when you would apologize for me getting hurt even though I would never have held it against you, to how you thought I looked good in 'that green', how you'd let me do that to you as I finished off a skulltula, even how you thought ghirahim was fatherless. By far the best things to hear were you just talking about your own life, hearing you going on about your day made me feel more real than anything else did. I could imagine myself there with you, as a real part of your life.”

The chill down my spine at that admission didn’t go unnoticed by him as he coiled tighter into my side as if he was attempting for my touch to consume him fully. Like he’s gotten a taste of this touch and he’s wanting some more, like a hit of kerosene or something sweeter.

"I don't want to go back to how it was before [name], I can't go back to Skyloft. I don't ever want to be pulled apart from you again, because when you finished the game? it felt like nothing was worth anything any more. I'm convinced I would have been better off dead than how I was without you."

He seemed not to be fond of my stunned silence, even still he respected it, letting me have precious moments to gather my thoughts. To say what? Where would I begin with handling this? I can’t question him, he’s so fragile right now and I’m too scared to break him. Maybe just…

“I’m sorry, Sky I’m so sorry. I’m sorry that I didn’t know earlier… that I couldn't help you through all of that, that I didn't treat you like an actual person. Is there any way I could possibly make it up to you?"

If that wasn't the best worst thing to say then, I don't know what I could have said instead. Luckily he seemed to like it if how he’s burning himself further into my side is anything to go off of, proven more by the contented hum he’s let out.

“Please, just don’t leave me again - I- I won’t hold it against you if it's not your own choice, like how the shadow brought you here to me, but I never want to have to be apart from you again. I want to go back to your own world with you, a brand new life with you is all I need.”

“I promise link, I won’t leave you of my own choice from now.”

“If anything happens so that you get torn away from me - can you start a new save on your switch?”

“What..?”

What good could that be - what if it only made things worse? What if that got rid of his memories? No. [name] you have to trust him on this. He knows so much more about it, he’s the one who’s lived this. If that’s what he thinks the right option is. Then it’s the best option.

“If you make a new save then this time - this time I won’t have to be worried about you overreacting and deleting me - I don’t know if I’ll be able to talk to you - There has to be some way I can get out of that game and into your arms again my dove. I just know it.”

#I wrote the first 400 words on a drive <3 because I had the song on loop #10/10 song would recommend 1000 times over #lu sky #linked universe x reader #yandere linked universe x reader #yandere linked universe #link x reader #moss✦writes #self aware au #self aware lu

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