#my love for each character may change and move but for him it is endless

[takethelx3]

I'm a little late cuz time slipped away from me but happy birthday Hiiro (even though,,,,, uhhhh,,, I ended up drawing everyone in ur bday image?)

(Hiiro is overcome with love for his besties on his bday I put tears in his eyes I know he's not the type to cry a lot but I think it's not illegal if he cries on his bday bc he loves his fam)

[stuffymcstuffsworld]

Performance

Performing was an art. One that requires passion and ambition. To truly give your audience a great show, you must be willing to offer your soul. For a stiff character has no place amoung the stories you wish to tell.

Something was wrong. Class 1-C was having difficulty and needed more time to prepare. They had worked very hard, and you knew that they didn't deserve to get a bad score for the props taking longer to set up.

You quickly whisper into Dali-Sans ear before he can announce them. "They need more time something went wrong." He nodded and flashed a smile to the audience. "We're in for a special treat, it seems, this year! Our own staff will be giving a small performance as well this year!"

You frowned. What in hell was he thinking? "My lovely friend here will be entertaining you for a short while as we help set up for the next act!" He handed you the mic and rushed off. Oh, you were going to kill him later for this.

But not before you got your own fun out of it. "Kalego-San, didn't you promise to assist me?" You smiled as Poro-Chan gasped. You knew he couldn't resist a show with Kalego in it. It guaranteed his distraction.

Kalego narrowed his eyes as he was set down and placed before the stage. Before he could say anything negative or deny, you started. "Oh foolish man of whom pride lays claim to, your arrogance may be your very undoing."

Pointing a finger at his accusingly as you watched him now make his way on stage storming up to you. "How time hath changed you. For you are not the one that I knew so long ago." You sighed.

He glared at you before speaking his voice carrying without assistance. "You are also not the one I so fondly remember or have you forgotten? You whose soul is now filled with envy." His smug smirk rising as a challenge.

Fine then. You tossed the mic backstage, knowing someone had caught it. "Fondly, he says." You scoffed mockingly. Both of you started circling each other in intimidating manors.

"When have you ever thought fondly of me?" He advanced forward, and you let him grasp your chin. "There are many things I do it seems that escape your notice." He pretended to examine you before letting go.

"How dare you! If I do not notice, it is because you neither show nor say anything!" You hissed, turning your back to him.

"Must I say anything? Must I show you? Why must I constantly remind you of such?" He questioned as he leaned over your shoulder seductively. "I pity the soul who lives with your affections." You brushed him away and moved back to your original starting point.

"Do you not wish a life with me?" He asked rather softly. You paused, glancing back. "Do not be foolish." You stated firmly. "Time and time again I have remained by your side have I not? Or has your swelling ego allowed you to forget?"

Crossing your arms, you turned away again. He laughed bitterly. "And you claim to pity any soul stuck with me. I'd hate to see the sap trapped in what you call love." You winced clutching your heart.

"Do not speak to me of such things!" You snapped, spinning to face him. "My love is as vast and as endless as the sea. My love amounts more than the stars in the heavens! My love shall remain eternal through summer, winter, spring, and fall!"

You glared at him, eye to eye chest to chest. "How could you of whom I care for so much not know?" You asked. Waiting for a response. He did not answer. Instead, he turned his head away from you.

"Then maybe we did not know each other at all." You stepped back and turned to leave. You felt him grasp your wrist. "I know that you drive me insane." His voice is calm yet held a depth you couldn't understand.

"I know each day I wake up and start worrying about all the trouble you will cause me." You continued to stare ahead, not looking back. "I know that you love so fiercely that time seems to halt just so that you can produce more of your inane affections."

You peered back at him. Somehow, you knew that the two of you weren't playing anymore. "You say that as if you love me." The room was quiet. As if you were the only two inside.

"I- I love you so much that words could not describe and actions can not convey how I feel to you." He swallowed, looking at you painfully. Embarrassment crossing his features.

You turned to fully face him now. "You are arrogant and cocksure." You said, and he winced, releasing his hold on you. You took the chance to grab his tie and pull him closer.

"You hate showing weakness, so you pretend to not care because you were taught that caring is weakness." Now you were nose to nose. You could see the fear and hope clashing in his eyes.

"Someone so prideful yet secretly kind as you. You should not have given your love to someone as greedy as me." You leaned in and brushed your lips together briefly. Pulling back, you smiled. "I plan on keeping your love all for myself."

Kalego only stared at you in silent shock. For a moment, you thought you went too far. Maybe you had misunderstood or read the signals wrong.

"If you're going to love me, love me properly." He scolded. You blinked. What did he mean by that? He grasped you close and pressed his lips hungrily to your own. Oh! Oh, he meant that.

You sigh, relaxing into his hold. Both of you were startled by the loud cheers and applause from the audience. Kalego swore under his breath before dragging you backstage to hide his embarrassed face in your shoulder.

[dotieeee]

The Dream That Got Away

Chapter 21

Pairing: Dark!Morpheus x You (no Y/N!)

**********************************************************

Link to the Masterlist

Overall Warnings!! Take heed:

Morpheus is DARK – in canon, he changes for the better (or at least, tries to – but we don��t do canon lol, so he goes even more batshit crazy) cue obsession, manipulation, possessiveness, powerplay

18+ ONLY – explicit scenes will be present, some explicit language

DUB-CON and NON-CON scenes

Character death (sort of)

Creator vs Creation drama

And other dark stuff that may be added in the future

This chapter’s warnings:

dub-con smut

Deviousness, manipulation and gaslighting galore

Barely edited, please bear with me

You have been warned!! Proceed with caution!!!

Link to the previous chapter

Chapter 21/Epilogue: A Sibling's Offer

You open your eyes to a million galaxies cradled in ocean blue.

The eyes of your creator, so soft, so benevolent, so full of affection. Slowly, your lips widen to match his tender smile as his hands gently cup your cheeks, so warm you could melt in them. He dips his head closer to yours as if his eyes could see nothing else before him. You could feel heat spread across your cheeks as he caresses your lips with his touch - he hums, as if in approval of your reaction.

“My little dream, you’re beautiful. You’re perfect,” with his lips barely moving, he whispers in a deep, velvety, hypnotic voice. 

“The entire realm pales in comparison to your radiance.”

Speechless at his praise, you watch as he pulls away, instantly depriving you of his warmth, his expression never changing.

“I am Dream of the Endless, the King of Dreams and Ruler of the Nightmare Realm.”

“My Lord,” you speak for the first time, in awe of your master’s beauty, wanting nothing but to venerate him for giving you life.

“My Mera, tell me,” your King says, a look of concern marring his ethereal features. “What do you last remember?”

You furrow your brows in concentration, but your thoughts land on mere snippets - glimpses of what seems like a former life, now long-forgotten; lines of tall, wooden shelves filled with books as far as your eyes could see, bodies drawn together, flushed in a fevered embrace, soft lips searching yours with hunger…

And you eventually giving in and kissing him back just as passionately.

The picture is suddenly crystal clear. You blush at the vivid image of you and your creator in each other’s arms, so you speak bashfully, “We kissed…in the library…”

Worried you might be wrong and upset him, you peer into his eyes in search of a sign that you have displeased him, but there was none - his eyes, sparkling with all the stars they hold, are full of nothing but adoration.

“My Lord, were we lovers?”

Your innocent question brings a shine to his eyes you could not read. He gathers your cheeks in his palm once more and brings your forehead close to his.

“We are.”

Your mind runs through the memory - the only memory you seem to have - in search of clues about your supposed relationship. You would never show it, but it frustrated you a little to have no recall of his love, especially when it seemed to run deep and with utter devotion.

“We loved each other, didn’t we?”

He closes his eyes and hums in satisfaction.

“You vowed to devote yourself wholly, only unto me, for eternity.”

He is gentle when his lips descend on yours as if wanting you to make true to your promise. Tentatively, you return his kiss and wrap your arms around his neck - he is your King, your creator and lover, and you trust him with your life, so you stay in his tight embrace until all that you know is his love, burning and all-consuming.

At the back of your mind is something telling you it isn’t right, but you pay it no mind: what wrong could there be, when your creator is by your side, ready to take your troubles away?  

***

You were more than eager to begin your duties, crafting inspiring dreams in your master’s name, but he himself was adamant that you stayed in the confines of his palace where he could always reach you. Even though you were temporarily taken out of commission, you took his orders to heart: the accident which robbed you of your former self was still fresh in his mind, so for you, it was clear that his actions meant he was trying to keep you from further harm.

But it also frustrated you a little - if you could just remember what had happened to you and why it happened, maybe you could help prevent it from ever happening again. You decide to tell him this one day in his throne room, where you find him sitting on the bottom of the winding stairs to his royal seat. Your king greets you with a small, warm smile - a rarity, you discovered, but which he gives you freely - and closes the book he had opened on his lap. Curtsying just as you get close, you open up to him about recovering your memories, to which his expression goes sombre before beckoning you closer.

“My dream, it is possible that your memories may never come back.”

As soon as you’re within his reach, he snakes an arm around your midriff and strokes your cheeks with another. You could tell how deeply saddened he was about you forgetting many things. There were, after all, memories he shared with you.

“Why is that, Lord Morpheus?” you ask, not at all comforted by soft gestures. “What happened to me?”

He tilts down your chin so you could look only at him. “It was a loss I almost could not bear,” he reveals while he traces your lips with his eyes and toys with your hair. “You met a terrible accident, my Mera. I wish for you to be spared the details.”

You run your fingers idly through his hair, fascinated by how soft it is. “And you saved me, my Lord?”

“I did.”

You let out a tiny yelp just as he pulls you to his lap and cradles you in his cloak. “I thought I was too late, but you held steadfast. I will not allow such a terrible fate upon you again, you have my word.”

***

He calls upon you to his chambers one night. You had an inkling what for when Morwyn gave you the word, and perhaps you had been expecting it; he’s allowed you privacy in your own chambers for months since the day he gave you life anew, but you were aware he has needs that have to be fulfilled.

Knowing that, however, does not make it any less nerve-wracking.

You decide to enter your King’s quarters early in the night. Thankfully, you find it empty of his presence, so you spend the next moments alone, circling the wide expanse of his room, getting increasingly anxious as you watch the night sky from his window turn from orange to purple, to midnight blue and littered with the glittering stars of your master’s creation.

You’re admiring a particular marble sculpture in a corner of his room when you feel the hairs at the back of your neck stand, and arms pulling you tight and pressing your back tightly against a warm, rumbling chest.

Gasping audibly at the pair of lips nipping at your earlobe, you whisper, “Lord Morpheus, you gave me quite a fright!”

“My apologies, little dream,” he says with a seemingly pleased hum. “I have missed you terribly.”

He spins you around and instantly places his mouth on yours in a heated kiss that makes your knees weak, so you hold on to his shoulders, while one of his hands grasps the back of your neck, the other you could feel stroking your back and fondling your dress ties. With his lips tracing yours and his tongue making yours dance with his, he takes your breath away.

Which is why even you don’t understand why you break it off so suddenly.

Is he going to be mad? You ask yourself. 

“I’m sorry my Lord, I don’t know what came over me,” you whisper apologetically against his cloaked chest, wrapping your arms around him in a hug and hoping you could placate him. You could feel your heartbeat soar through the roof and you could swear he could feel it too.

“There is nothing to apologise for, my dream,” he replies, rubbing your back in an effort to soothe you. He places a lingering kiss on your temple while his finger traces circles on your shoulder. Releasing a low, rumbling hum, he nuzzles your neck as he pulls you ever closer to his body, taking in your scent, an act that leaves goosebumps all over your arms.

“Lord Morpheus, were we…intimate in my previous form?”

Your innocent question does not seem to faze your creator.

“We were passionately in love, my Mera. We indulged in the pleasures of the flesh night after night.”

As if to prove his point, his lips travel down from your neck to your shoulders, peppering your skin with soft kisses and hot licks, all of which leave you panting in his hold and a feeling of wetness gathering between your thighs as you rub them together.

But, once again, no matter how good he was making you feel, you still find yourself pulling away from him. Breathless, you back away into a wall, thinking you’ve angered him this time, but you brave a look at him, only to see him look forlorn as he slowly approaches you.

“It wasn’t just you who I mourned for that day.” Stopping just a few feet from you, he reveals, “You were with our child in your previous form when you…when you passed.”

You clasp your hand over your mouth at the only information he reveals about your passing. His eyes, dulling at the pain of such an enormous loss, are glazed with tears unshed for your unborn child, and it was all because of you.

“I didn’t know.” You muster the courage to close the distance between you and place a trembling palm on his cheek. Welcoming your touch, he leans onto it, clasping it with his own and bringing it to his lips for a kiss. His grief was all your fault, and you couldn’t even remember. With tears cascading your cheeks, you say, “I’m sorry, I’m terribly sorry, Lord Morpheus. I should’ve taken better care of us…”

“That was not your doing, my dream,” he responds with the gentleness you know you don’t deserve. He kisses your forehead, then your cheeks, still wet with tears, which he wills away. He then captures your lips with his in a slow, searing kiss, and this time, you kiss him back without reservations, hoping you could share even just a tiny amount of the pain he bears.

It isn’t long before the kiss becomes more passionate, his lips more insistent and his tongue swirling around yours insistently. He suckles your bottom lip before he grows bolder - his lips make their way to your jawline, then to your neck, where he licks and nips at your skin. He seems to be spurred on by how your chest starts heaving up and down, for he starts biting the strap of your dress and lowering it to your arms, exposing more of the flesh he seems adamant about marking. Licking his way back up, his lips brushing over your ears, he whispers in a tone laced with hunger:

“There is no one else I desire, my Mera, no one, across all realms and dimensions. Just you.”

He bites your earlobe just as you feel his hands undo the ribbon at the back of your dress. For some reason, the anxiousness you felt before comes back, making you close your eyes and whimper, just as he pulls away to take your mouth in his.

You bite your lower lips as you hear a tiny, disapproving growl from the back of his throat.

“Why do you reject my touch?” he whispers against your temple. “Losing you was painful enough, so why do you spurn me and hurt me still? Do you not love me, my Mera?”

Sniffling and choking back your tears, you respond, “I do, Morpheus. I love you.”

“Then, grant me this.”

Your actions cost him his child. It’s the least you could do.

With your lips trembling, you give him a small nod. “Take comfort in me, my King: do with me as you wish.”

Ignoring the way your skin crawled at your words, you let your King take you in his arms and carry you to his bed, with your dress barely clinging to your form. With all the gentleness he possesses, he lowers you on the silken sheets, and with a single move, removes all your clothing, just as his own disappear in a wink - all while not breaking eye contact with you for even a single moment.

He takes a while to appreciate the sight you offer: you, bare underneath him, bashfully peering into his face. His eyes, laden with barely contained lust, roam your form freely while you squirm at the attention.

You love him, you tell yourself. You’re doing this for him.

After a long, agonising minute, he descends on you at last, his sculpted chest hovering over you almost threateningly as his mouth finds yours, and his hands rake every inch of your skin he could reach. You lie back down and take all of it - his mouth licking and nipping your jaw, your neck, and your collarbones, his hands groping and squeezing your breasts, his knee parting your thighs so he could nestle between them - you take them all.

You love him.

You let out an involuntary moan as his hot mouth finds its way to your nipple. Biting down and suckling, his other hand pinches your other nipple while your back arches further to welcome his touches. With your breathing turning shallow, your hips squirm underneath him, intent on finding more of the friction he provides.

Chuckling darkly, he pulls away, only for a brief moment, to chide you:

“Patience, my little dream. I shall have you soon. For now, I thirst for something only you could quench.”

From your stomach, he licks his way down to his goal: that increasingly throbbing mound between your legs.

You watch him as he teases you further by planting butterfly kisses on your inner thighs, then surprising you by biting down the flesh and leaving bruising marks on your flesh. When he reaches your pulsating flesh, already wet even before he laid you down, you let out an embarrassingly loud, high-pitched moan, unable to help yourself. With that devious tongue of his, he parts your folds at an achingly slow pace, flicking your clit with it as he does. He repeats the action over and over, before delving further down, licking your entrance and lapping up everything you offer. You could do nothing but cling onto the pillow on your head as you close your eyes, mewling at his ministrations.

But he squeezes your thighs in a warning.

“Eyes. On. Me.” he enunciates every word of his command.

Jerking them open, you maintain eye contact with your King just as he sucks your clit - it’s all you could do to come undone within minutes as he holds your hips down and gorges on the feast that is your elixir. Immediately, you’re thrown into a world of pleasure your current body has yet to be familiar with, and you’re left weak and panting, and somehow yearning for so much more.

“Your sweet nectar will be my undoing. I crave more of you, my Mera. I must have you now.”

You’re broken from your lustful reverie once he looms over your body. As he parts your thighs further apart and nestles his hips between them, a trepidation awakens in you, and your hands, of their own volition, claw at his chest, and tears you don’t know the source of come bursting forth. You glimpse a flash of onyx in your Lord’s eyes of what looks like fury just before he takes your wrists and pins them to your sides, amplifying your bizarre fear. You tilt your head to the side, weeping and apologising profusely, dreading punishment from him. His lips descend to your exposed ear, shushing you gently.

“Shh, little dream. You have nothing to fear from me.”

You give a small nod as the anxiety you felt dissipates as soon as it came. You swallow a lump in your throat - you could feel his hips shift slightly, his hard member pushing against your thigh.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, while your creator releases your wrists and lovingly wipes your tears away. “Will it hurt, my Lord?”

He takes your question as a sign, so he starts aligning his cock over your entrance, untouched in this body, all while he cups your cheek as if trying to be a source of your comfort.

“Fear not our joining, my dream. We are fated, and so is this.”

As you lay within his hold, already resigned to your fate, you feel something large and hot and pulsating invade your body, tearing through your flesh and making you cry out in pain. Your King shushes you, this time peppering your tear-stained face and neck with soft kisses; he pushes himself further inside your protesting body, groaning above you in pleasure while you sob profusely at his intrusion.

You love him. This is all for him.

“Relax for me, dream of mine,” he whispers hotly against your skin, then proceeds to leave open-mouthed kisses on your collarbone and breasts. 

You try to relieve yourself of the tension, but it’s impossible, especially as he shoves his entire length inside you, stretching your walls more than you could ever imagine. He pulls his head away to look into your face, and you focus on his eyes, brimming with lust he could no longer contain. Still whimpering and breathing shallowly, you feel him withdraw his cock almost entirely before pushing it back in with slightly more force and speed. Tears continue to spill from your eyes at the unfamiliar friction, but you take it all, you take it all for him. He repeats his actions, settling for a pace that eventually allows you to adjust to his size. Moaning and making strangled noises at the back of your throat, your thoughts of wriggling away from underneath him die down as he grabs your waist and starts bringing you to his hips to meet his thrusts. You throw your head back as the pleasure begins to mount in your body and you arch your back, your muscles now clenching and unclenching his cock uncontrollably, eager for more. Your hips, now meeting your King’s thrusts, melts in his hold, so when he picks up a pace at a slightly different angle that makes you see stars, you all but welcome the endless amount of pleasure he’s giving with heavy moans that echo his chambers.

You love him.

The eyes that refuse to leave yours darken, glistening with unbridled carnal longing, and with a bruising grip on your hips, he begins an uninhibited pace.

“You are perfect, my Mera,” he praises. “You’re mine. Mine.”

You try to bite down the embarrassing sounds coming from your mouth, but this earns you a displeased look from your King; he draws his body even closer as he wraps your legs around him, the angle making you scream into the night while his unforgiving pace brings an intense heat in your abdomen. It isn’t long before the heat explodes, and immediately, you fall - you come with your creator’s name on your lips, a screaming, sweaty, writhing mess, while his hands anchor your hips, unceasing and growing increasingly erratic with his thrusts to seek his own. Amplifying your orgasm, he, too, comes undone with a loud groan that shakes his castle. An almost overwhelming warmth floods your core, making you moan incoherently, and as he pumps more of it inside you, he whispers your name over and over in utter ecstasy. He waits for your breathing to even out, pulling your foreheads close and cupping your face before his mouth descends on yours and rolls his tongue languidly on yours, kissing you with so much adoration you couldn’t help but moan in satisfaction and run your fingers through his messy locks.

As with everything, your high fades, replaced with an indescribable, dull ache between your legs, where his cock is still buried. You break away from the kiss, releasing a tiny whine from the back of your throat. Perhaps recognizing the pain you’re in, your master pulls out of you completely. You roll over your stomach to find some sort of relief, and as your inner thighs brush together, you could feel some of his sticky substance spill out, coating them with the evidence of your union.

Your Dream Lord does not lie down beside you like you expect him to - instead, you could feel his lips caressing your shoulders, biting down on the skin you could feel it sting. He continues doing this all across your back, while you could feel him press up on your backside, his once-again hard cock probing your entrance. Your whimpers of protest are all but ignored, and in a swift motion, he sheathes his entire length inside your still-aching walls, which earns a soft squeal from you. He kisses his way from your back to your ear, purring wantonly:

“You took me so well, dream of mine. You will take one more for your King.”

You could only nod, helpless, when he grabs ahold of your waist, bringing your hips to his as he starts pounding relentlessly, parting your cheeks so he could get further access. Grabbing the pillow and squeezing with your might so you could take it, you remind yourself that you’re doing this for your creator, the King who fathered the child you lost, the being you pledged your life, your heart and your soul to. You love him.

Right?

***

“Dream, if I ever hear her soul call out for me in any way, I will snatch her away from you without warning, I will take her soul where even you can’t go, and you’ll never find her again!”

Dream of the Endless recalls his sister’s threat in the cave of the Great Void with an inward flinch. She was kind enough to allow him to keep your soul (it is his right, after all, and he didn’t need her permission), but he is aware he is treading on thin ice, now that his sister is forever going to keep an eye on his affairs. He had made a vow to her to give you a choice in your resurrected form: one between him and the other, to remain only as his dream, free of his pursuit and his love. He had made true to his words, of course.

Conveniently, he had glossed over the part about modifying your memories - just a little, just enough so he could gently push you into choosing him.

Even more aware is he of the fragile state of your soul - as disturbed as he was when he saw your bright light flicker and dim, he knows it would prove useful to him. Apparently, your soul had been using its energy and manifesting itself as a voice, calling out to his sisters for help. He had no prior knowledge of this until Death had inadvertently revealed this important little tidbit - was this why even your past forms have been resistant to him? How long had your soul been rebelling and turning your mind against him?

But, none of that mattered now - your soul is all but close to being diminished - it would no longer bother you nor him. He had been seeing remnants here and there of your defiance, causing you to pull away from him several times on your first night with him in this current body. He could see how it brought you so much distress, not knowing why you were doing it, you had been so regretful of those actions you could not control, so he is patient - he could be, for you - he will continue to push that disobedience in you aside until it baulks. It will only be a matter of time, he surmises.

Even more vexing to him was the manner with which his siblings had obtruded with matters they should not have. His little sister, Delirium, who had confessed to helping you by leading you to that mortal you had claimed to love, and then, his sister Death, who had attempted to wrench your soul from his grasp: why had the two of them become so invested in his affairs, when his other, normally-meddlesome sibling had gone unusually silent since the events related to the Vortex?

This is the reason why he isn’t much surprised when the sibling in question requests his audience for the first time in centuries.

“Dream, dear brother, I stand in my gallery and hold your sigil. Can I come in?” comes his sibling’s smooth, echoing in his throne room. “Pretty please?”

Morpheus feels his eyes narrow at his sibling’s request. What could they possibly want at this time?

“Desire,” he mutters. He exhales audibly as he closes the book he was reading only a few moments ago, emitting a small cloud of dust from its pages. He’s lost interest in the book.

“You may enter.”

Drumming his fingers on his throne’s armrest, he watches his sibling’s lithe form manifest at the foot of the stairs leading up to his throne, wearing a sleek, double-breasted suit.

“Hello Dream,” they greet, a wide, toothy smile adorning their cat-like features.

Morpheus does not feel like returning the smile. Sand rises from the ground to form an ornate, high-backed velvet seat for his sibling, which they gracefully plop onto. “To what do I owe this visit, sibling?”

“Oh, I was just checking up on you - worried, actually,” Desire says with a bat of their eyelashes, crossing their legs and leaning back on the velvet chair. “Tell me, how's your ongoing project? Have you perfected her yet?”

Dream feels his eye twitch in slight annoyance. “My current undertakings are my business, my little sibling.” None of your business.

Humming thoughtfully, his sibling places a well-manicured nail on their lips. “I'm just surprised how, even after you've recreated her over and over for the past millennium, you can't seem to make her...bend to your will. Pun most definitely intended.” 

Desire laughs, throwing their head back in their mirth. “Truth always seems to have a way of worming its way to her.” They sling their knees over the armrest and lay their head back on the other, continuing, “I remember her visit to my Threshold about.. four centuries ago, I suppose. She was the seventh, I think? She was so distraught, so desperate for my guidance. And, like the Mera before this current one, she was in love.”

They let their tongue roll on the last phrase for emphasis, which somehow Dream finds incredibly irritating. Quietly, he drags a nail against the marble armrest, while feigning disinterest:

“Oh?”

His sibling pouts and places a hand on their chest, saying, “Looking back now, I think it was cruel of dear Destiny to have orchestrated this on the man’s poor lineage. She was in love with a Chapman.” They side-eye Dream for a gauge of his reaction. “The poor doctor and his ancestors seem to have a penchant for attracting your stubborn, wayward creation. Did I not mention this before? Wait, I did!”

The laugh they let out, louder than the former, is mirthless and bounces against his throne room walls.

“That’s why you cursed his descendants!” They sigh deeply, and in what sounds like contentment, before placing their palms in the air to admire their nail polish. 

“Anyway, the poor thing had no one to talk to, no friends, no family…I didn’t know you could go so low as to keep her isolated. But it wasn’t her love for the Chapman fellow that drew me to her. Surprisingly, her heart’s deepest, innermost desire was freedom - for everything to end. Sadly, it wasn’t mine to give. Anyway, you should be thanking me for what I did. I may have nudged her little mortal lover to take another woman. My twin sister indulged in her misery, she practically bathed in it.”

“Enough.”

Dream, already on the verge of banishing his mischievous blood relation from his realm, shifts in his seat in his ire, his jaw clenching and eyes turning silver and wanting very much to break something. He need not be reminded of how the dream he’s fallen in love with seems to choose anyone else but him, no matter what form they take. “I have no need to hear of the petty games you and your meddlesome twin play at my creation’s expense. I should have your blood for that, if not for the fact that I have remedied your misdeed.”

“By ‘remedied,’ you mean ‘unmade.’”

Feeling his self-control wane in an instant, he stands to his feet abruptly, the book on his lap falling several steps down the stairs. They dare insinuate that he had caused your demise?

Desire just rolls their eyes and curls their lips at his outburst, brushing it off. “Oh Dream, it was merely a joke. I mean, she doesn’t always get to be unmade by you, of course.”

They follow their brother’s action and get to their feet. They walk up the stairs to get closer to the monarch, who’s currently fuming in rage underneath his composed mask. 

“Let me get to my point, then. I came here to help you.”

Dream replies with a biting tone, “And what on earth makes you think that I am in need of your aid?”

“Oh, dear brother, you know of my expertise. Surely, you know just what I can do to your little dream. I can make her want you. Make her crave only your touch. Imagine, a Mera, completely under the spell of her master, her King, submitting to her Creator's wildest fantasies. I mean, there is no one better suited for that task than me. All you have to do is ask.”

Always suspicious of his devious sibling’s intentions, he purses his lips with a heavy scowl marring his pale features. “You’re assuming this one will fail.”

Desire sits on one of his armrests and places a hand on his shoulder, the other toying with his hair. “Oh, I don't know. I just want to spare you the heartbreak of her being uncreated for, what, the tenth, twelfth time? I'm afraid I've lost count. I'm only looking after you, big brother. Isn't that what family is for?”

Ignoring his younger sibling’s manicured nails grazing his scalp, he actually finds himself smirking, finding the idea ridiculous at best, and devious at worst.

“I appreciate the gesture, sibling, but given your propensity to bring sabotage to my personal affairs, I'm inclined to refuse. I have reason to believe this Mera will succeed where the others have failed.”

“Suit yourself,” his sibling shrugs. They pull away from him and begin to descend the stairs, but not before declaring, “You know that when this one proves faulty, my offer still stands. You need only call me.”

Dream’s only reply is taciturn. “I will keep that in mind.”

Flashing that large, crooked grin Dream has come to associate with the craftiness unique only to them, they wave playfully and say, “Till then, big brother.”

His realm would have to freeze over first before he lets them touch you.

***

He’s done for the day - and it was a long, exhausting day, too - so he comes home to you.

Morpheus knows you’d be waiting for him dutifully in his chambers - his dream, his only lover, splayed all over his bed on the softest silk sheets, your hair fanning the pillows, your eyes glazed over in desire - it’s a sight that only he gets the pleasure of seeing, and it makes his cock twitch in anticipation.

When he enters his room at last, he finds your silhouette hiding behind the curtains of his four-poster bed. You had heard him arrive, so you got out of bed just to meet him.

He finds his breath taken away by your beauty, as always.

You’re wearing a sheer ruby nightgown that cascaded just a little above your knees and nothing else underneath.

Just like he had instructed.

Dream makes his approach, never taking his eyes off your form. Once you’re but inches away from him, he grabs ahold of your body and immediately plants his lips on yours - engaged in passionate liplock, he could feel your hands travel beneath his coat before taking it off from him. He obliges, not wanting to deny you of anything, much less undressing him. He only pulls away to undo the ribbon, the only thing that holds your nightgown in place. The flimsy article of clothing falls to your feet, revealing your body - one he’s crafted with care, one he’ll never get enough of no matter how many times he takes it. 

His eyes, after scanning your entire, naked form, bathed in the moonlight, land on the bulge on your belly. It’s small, but he sees it - he can feel the life you had formed with him four months past, swirling happily, safely tucked on your bosom. He lets his palm brush over your abdomen. As if recognising the touch of his father, his son’s energy spikes slightly, making you jolt a little in excitement - wide-eyed, you look up at him as you place your hand over his, wanting to share the experience. He could feel his own eyes glowing with so much emotion - you will be round with his child in no time, and who knows, maybe you will be again after this. He leans on the next being a girl - a princess, just like you in every manner, except maybe she’ll have his eyes, or his hair - he brushes the thought aside; he has an eternity with you to plan this out.

Hating to waste any more time, he gives a little nudge on your shoulder - a silent command for you to lie down for him. You offer no resistance, it seems: you happily get on the bed, your eyes glimmering coyly as you wait for him to climb on top of you. The fight in your soul has died down. Inwardly, he celebrates this victory.

Willing his own clothes into sand and disappearing completely, he descends on his ultimate prize: your body, now completely his and waiting for him to ravish over and over, like he does night after night, indulging in the pleasure only you could satisfy for him. Underneath him, you gaze up at him with so much reverence, so much love, and his heart sings in utter triumph. Just like that, all the work he had poured into you for more than a thousand years, bearing fruit right before him, and it’s all for him to bask in, to take.

This little dream of his is never getting away from him ever again.

******************************

Author notes on the Chapter:

I. AM. SCREAMING. !!!!

Did I just finish my first-ever fic? Yes. Is it long? Oh, yes. Did it take so much time out of me? Double yes. Did I have fun with it? Immensely. Will I write another? Absolutely.

But seriously, thank you for being with me this entire fic, this journey of mine in writing a fanfic for the very first time. It’s a ride I’ll never forget. Thank you, thank you from the bottom of my heart for following thus far! Look out for my next ones featuring the same, mopey, sopping-wet cat of a man (endless)!! ILY

Author's notes in general:

Thank you, THANK YOU for reading!!

Please engage, comment and reblog!! I love feedback from you guys :) This is my first ever fic, so kindness is truly appreciated!

Thank you to my queen @queenshelby @endlessdreamqueen3 for encouraging me to pen this, as well as to my fellow Dark!Morpheus writers whose work I have thoroughly enjoyed and keep rereading :)

Post date: 3/23/23

Edit date: 3/23/23

Taglist: Just lemme know please if you want to be added, too!

Tagging the following:

@wt-fxck

@sandman-33

@reallystressedhoneybee

@akiraquote

@safe-teycar

@ponyboys-sunsets

@izzicle

@spygrrl99

@intothesoul

@thecrazytealady

@tastyinspection8860

@kittenssss-blog

@trinittyy

@mxacegrey

@saraicus

@blu3what

@justporple

@emy635

@chantzmar

@dawnissunnysideup

@esmeralda-tupi

@ggxsan

[merryfortune]

if our love is insanity then why aren't you my clarity

Written for AiYusa Month 2024 | May 12th-May 18th | Week One

Prompts: Madness | “There isn’t anything that I wouldn't do for you.”

Title: if our love is insanity then why aren’t you my clarity

Ship: Aiballshipping | Ai/Yusaku

Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh! VRAINS

Rating: T

Word Count: 1,586

Warnings: Choose not to warn

Tags: Alternate Universe - Alice in Wonderland, Crack Treated Seriously, Humour, Parody, Character Death, Ambiguous Ending, Time Loops

   “What does a raven have in common with a writing desk?” Ai asked, smarmy, batting his eyelashes.

   “Edgar Allan Poe wrote on both.” Yusaku replied.

   Ai's expression changed, he pouted, “Pfft, you're no fun. Knowing the answers to all my riddles,” Ai's mood changed again then added, “but! That's why I love you.”

   “I'm glad.” Yusaku said as neutrally as possible. “Now, I have answered your riddles and you say you love me, now will you let me go?”

   He struggled in the ropes that Ai had ambushed him with. They were an endless chain of colourful triangles of fabric, repeating the six colours of the rainbow, until they formed his bondage. 

   “No, no can do, Yusaku-chan.” Ai lamented playfully.

   He got up from across the far end of the ballroom table they were seated at. Clashing and mismatched furniture bedecked either side, there was a feast for hundreds let alone two and it was all going cold, to waste, on them. Yusaku thought there was meant to be a White Rabbit, a March Hare and a Dormouse but no. It was just him and the Mad Hatter in this whimsical forest.

   Ai, now having made the journey from one end of the table to the other, perched on the corner in front of Yusaku. He put one foot on Yusaku's chair, squeezing it under Yusaku's leg playfully.

   “No.” Ai said again. “No can do, I'm afraid. It's my Unbirthday Party so I can do as I please. Besides, we haven't even finished this date of ours, Yusaku-chan.”

   Yusaku rolled his eyes. Date, schmate. He had only met Ai today and yet, when Ai looked at him, yes, it was with a gaze full of love but something else too. Something miserable. It made Yusaku feel like he wasn't truly being looked at bit rather through, like he wasn't there despite having all of Ai's attention and adoration.

    See? Even at his rudeness of rolling his eyes, Ai didn't admonish Yusaku. Instead, he continued to sit and stare and sigh, like a fool in love.

   “Well?” Yusaku prompted Ai through his reverie. “How do we finish this date then?”

   “Well, we need to talk some more.” Ai said.

   “About what?” Yusaku asked.

   “About whatever we like.” Ai trumpeted, getting loud all of a sudden and shaking Yusaku's nerves like a tree. “And we need to exchange gifts! Two each. Then,” Ai turned quiet again, fidgeting cutely, “we get to kiss.”

   Yusaku sighed. Anything to get this over and done with. He had places to go and people to see. He wanted to go home. He needed to clear his name to Queen and slay the Jabberwock and none of those things were going to happen if he was tied to a chair by a madman.

   “Okay, what do you want to give me?” Yusaku asked. “If we are on a date, then I want my presents now.”

   “Oh my, so bold, but of course I would pamper my lover. I have just what you need: some freshly brewed tea.” Ai said.

   He produced a pot of tea, seemingly from thin air, and theatrically poured it. Steam wafted off the rivers and into a chipped, ceramic tea cup with wisteria emblems printed on it. The tea smelt rancid, it wrinkled Yusaku's nose and his dissatisfaction with it only worsened when Ai scootched the cup closer to him.

   He waited, sharp and expectant.

   Yusaku pointedly didn't say anything.

   Ai blinked, batted his lashes.

   Yusaku didn't even move a muscle in reaction.

   “Er, well, drink up, Yusaku-chan.” Ai attempted to encourage Yusaku.

   “How?” Yusaku asked, snapping. “I can't reach it when I'm tied up.”

   “Oops, silly me! Your second gift from moi.” Ai said.

   He bonked his head apologetically with the palm of his hand, poking his tongue out, too. It was an utter farce of being genuine but maybe he was. Yusaku couldn't tell as Ai adjusted his hat, then his waistcoat, and then produced his next gift for Yusaku.

   “Tada!” he announced ever so sing-song. “A silly straw. Although, since this is Wonderland, it is a normal straw to us silly geese, tee-hee.” 

   The silly straw in question was long and winding, a translucent purple with a Kink in about the middle of which was heart-shaped. Ai put the bottom of it in the tea cup and supported the other end of it so Yusaku could use it.

   “Bottoms up, beloved.” Ai sing-songed.

   Yusaku huffed but accepted. He latched on and sucked hard enough to-blegh! It didn't even taste like tea. It was more akin to boiled grape ramune despite the deceptively earl grey colour it had in the teacup.

   “Ugh, yuck.” Yusaku complained.

   Ai, unfazed, changed the topic of conversation immediately, “Now what about my gift?” he said. “What did you bring me, your lover boy?”

   “I didn't bring you anything. I only met you today. You are not my lover boy.” Yusaku said and repeating Ai's self annoyed pet name for himself soured his mouth worse than the tea.

   “Well,” Ai said, uppity, “guess that means you are here forever then! Oopsie-daisies.”

   “What, no?!” Yusaku exclaimed, firing back. “I need to go, Ai, I need to go home!”

   “I'm afraid I can't let you do that, Yusaku-chan.” Ai tutted, closing his eyes as he fidgeted with his fingers again.

   “Why not? I need to go home, I need to slay the Jabberwock so Queen clears my name and then I can go home but I can't if I'm stuck here playing dolls with you.” Yusaku snarled.

   “Too bad, rules are rules. You would know that better than anyone else, Mister I Barely Escaped with My Head.” Ai taunted him.

  Yusaku huffed.

   Ai cautiously opened one eye, “I told you already. We are on a date. To have a successful date and leave, we need to talk twice. Check, check. I need to give you two gifts. Check and check. But you also need to give me two gifts so we can then kiss afterwards and leave our date. But if you can't, well, you. Are. Stuck.”

   “Says who?” Yusaku snapped, incredulous.

   “The game designer, that's who.” Ai said.

   “Wait, what? Pause.” Yusaku, in disbelief, scrunched up his face then turned to the camera, “Can you believe this?”

   Ai blinked, “Who are you talking to? This is a written text, there can't be any cameras.”

   Yusaku looked again and Ai was right. There were no cameras. Just the droning of a keyboard as the next word was written after the other, a narration added one by one until it became a third person omniscient perspective intrinsic to the diegetic noises of the scene. The birds singing, the foliage swaying, etcetera.

   But that couldn’t be right either, Yusaku realised.

   His skin began to crawl. The keys on the keyboard continued to clack as he put one and one together.

   “We’re not speaking like it's 1856.” Yusaku said.

   “Well, yeah, ‘cause, like… You know, duh, because it’s… I’m crazy, I’m Looney Tunes, you know. We’re all mad here.” Ai rambled.

   The anachronistic reference only further cemented in Yusaku’s mind that something was very wrong.

   “We,” he said, “are in a fanfiction.”

   “What, no…? That can’t be right.” Ai replied.

   “By an author who hasn’t even read the original book she is creating this pastiche from. She’s barely seen the Disney version!”

   AN: The Care Bears version was my jam as a kid tho. 

   If you haven’t seen that, get out of here! XD

   “See?!” Yusaku exclaimed.

   Ai groaned and thingz 0nly w3nt w0rz3 and d0wn h1ll fr0m d0wn th3r3.

   Mostly because Yusaku died.

   Oops.

   Yusaku simply vanished from existence. Right in front of Ai’s eyes for the… fiftieth time by Ai’s count. There was just no escaping fate. Yusaku had to clear his name by slaying the Jabberwocky. Except, it was usually the Jabberwocky who killed him. Or Queen. And there was one incident with the Walrus. And another with the Caterpillar and his hookah machine. 

   For Yusaku, dying was as easy as breathing. He didn’t have a chance to process. He just disappeared as the world around him folded like a castle of playing cards. He was just returned to the beginning of the book, the beginning of the level, back to when he was falling down the rabbit hole that he could never escape from because darling dearest Wonderland wanted to keep him so bad and the only way he could stay was if he died.

   Its a shame he never remembered.

   But Ai did.

   Their first meeting, the first time they shared in laughter and jokes, crying as Yusaku seemingly got so close to the finishing line before… chomp. He was gone. Decapitated.

   This wasn’t one of this gorier deaths, Ai had to admit but that was hardly a balm for his soul. Not when he wanted to keep Yusaku, all to himself, it's a shame he had to share him with a larger than life story but hey. Just because ropes didn’t work this time, didn’t mean they woulodn’t work next time or he could try something else, like a glue trap or a reverse bear trap or something but at the end of the purple prose run on sentence, deep down, he knew.

   There was nothing Ai could do to keep his beloved protagonist safe from the ending of the… the whatever it was and look? Not much space between here and the last words of the text. Just three… two… one…

   Fin.

[platoniccereal]

i never felt the appeal of characters marrying or, god forbid, having children, all of my brain worms stay in unofficial non-familial relationships, but scaraether? i want them to marry and have a family, many many many years since they expressed non-hostile interest in each other.

two wandering souls deserve some peace and quiet. after an endless search for one's family, after losing their darling ones and surviving perceived betrayals, after so many lonely painful centuries, that would be so nice for them to have a peaceful home.

the wanderer, who has dealt with taking care of a child, but lost him to a cruel fate? this may be hard, but this will become a part of a healing process. he can afford such affection and attachment now. mentally, that would signify he grew enough. he didn't stack in a state of perpetual suffering and trauma, but had enough support and strength to move on.

aether already has some experience of dealing with a kid - that we know of. teyvat changed everything for a traveling alien that never was supposed to get attached to any of the worlds for the siblings would've left them anyway. but the bonds and connections formed themselves whether aether wanted it or not. and settling down with another immortal would also indicate growth. no matter what we will see in the future, his relationships with lumine are irreversibly damaged. now, he doesn't need to search constantly. he doesn't need to live in a constant expectation he will have to travel further and severe all connections.

aether and wanderer both decide they grew enough and can afford this choice.

and then there will be a domestic slice of life, with the wanderer teaching a kid how to forge swords, with aether teaching them to fight, with them three so get used to travelling. the kid would have a life so rich with experiences and new acquaintances. there will be aunties paimon and nahida, and gods, and adepti, and talking animals, humans of all walks of life. maybe, there will be lumine. the kid's first flight. aether telling all the stories of the worlds he abandoned to eventually come to teyvat and have this life.

they both didn't have parents in a common understanding of it. the kid will be so loved and cherished and offered so much understanding and patience.

i just try not to think the child will probably be a mortal.

[goatskickin]

Welcome back! When we last left, Faith offended just about everyone she met, while making endless plates of food. Faith was also taking a hefty sampling of the local Potential Husband population at Brainia U.  Meanwhile, her roommate and bff Bettina got to know the warlock Sebastian Dreamer better.

But what is our heir’s little brother Temperance up to? How is he taking to college?

For Tempe, the quarters are a little closer, with 4 people in one student house instead of 2.

They make it work, however.

They’ve all made it this far without killing each other anyway!

They do well enough feeding themselves. But their meals are nothing like what Faith makes.

“Whoa! You makin’ some blackened…*sniff*…omelets? Seb?”

“…shut up.”

“I think it’s fine. Ma used to make them this way. I like my eggs crispy.”

The Dreamer twins have a comfortable relationship with each other. Living together is easy.

Living with Wade and Tempe however takes some adjustment.

   The 2 Knowledge-centric sims, Tempe and Seb, get along famously from the get-go.

“I’m thinking if everyone had VR headsets, plus highly customizable characters, that –“

“Oh, DUDE! The custom character screen is like, the best part!”

“I know, right?!”

“And you’re one of those people that spends 3 hours making their customizable character and then shuts the game off?”

“HA! Like you don’t do the same!”

2 nerds in a pod.

Remy is a little more realistic. He’s more interested in “mature” pursuits.

Like girls. He’s met Tempe’s “hot sister”, Faith.

But decided pretty quickly to move on from considering her as a romantic pursuit.

            But decided pretty quickly to move on from considering her as a romantic pursuit.

He’s a big fan of sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong, though.

“Sebastian – “

“Ha, yes Remington?”

“Don’t be a douche, I’m trying to be serious…what’s up with you and your babe?”

“Bettina. Bettina Waters.”

“Yeah…”

“What. What is up. Are we playing? Or no?”

“Soooo…you guys like…are you…?”

“Remy, stop, I – “

“You’re making it official with her, right? It’s not just a -”

“Remy, shut the fuck up. I don’t wanna talk about this.”

“Oh yeah? What do you want to talk about then?”

“…”

“You like her. She’d be stupid not to like you. I know you haven’t officially locked it down with her. So, what’s the issue?! ”

“Fuck off!”

“Ask her OUT for REAL. Tell mom about her. I’ll – “

“Listen. HEY. I’ll…I’ll do that and…if you…take Tempe out for an afternoon. To hang out.”

“UGH whyyyy! Temps is a fuckin’ square!”

“Tempe thinks you hate him!”

“I don’t hate him! I don’t hate anybody. I just think he’s a dork.”

“So, you’re turning me down then? You won’t do the dare Remy?”

…

“Man….fine. We’ll go to campus and get pizza. You need to talk to Bettina though.”

“Fine.”

True to his word, Remy takes Tempe out to socialize. Before hitting up the pizza place on campus, Remy and Tempe check out the Bio lab, where Bettina is often found making use of the science equipment.

It’s also where the cow mascot is infuriating and attractive. To this dormie at least.

“Bettina! Heyyyyy.”

“Ohhhhh, hi Remy! What’s up!”

“Nothing, just me and Temps – "

“I am going to fuck – fucking kill – that cow mascot…”

Although the climate and soil at Brainia U have been just as affected as Pitstop Valley and the surrounding neighborhoods, somehow, there is one type of plant that has survived.

Several students, Bettina included, have had a semester-long lab study based on its growth habits. It may hold the key to having plant life grow organically elsewhere.

After Tempe makes some shockingly bad attempts at Talking To Girls, Remy kindly initiates a location change.

For pizza!

“Ya know, for free pizza it’s really not that bad. *chomp* Hey, your sister is here.”

*chomp* “Wuh?”

“Hey Faith!”

“Hey booger! C’mere.”

“You here for the pizza? There’s – “

“No, shh! I’m here for something else.”

John Choi of course. The man, the hat, the pizza-cheeked.

Faith has competition, however.

“…John? Oh, John? You have time to review my paper, right? I’d love to get your opinion…”

Something that Tempe should be used to by now is finding the house computer occupied when he wants it. But that doesn’t mean that he has to like it.

“Um, Wade? Yo, I need to use the computer.”

“Sorry, I need to reboot. I think I saved the settings in the word processor for everything to be all caps? I’m doing a factory reset.

“You are WHAT! Doing a WHAT?!”

“I gotta share a room, the computer, my food – “

“Gawd, fine! I didn’t need that sandwich anyway! I’m leaving.”

     It sucks sometimes a nice guy.

The girls on campus aren’t on Tempe’s wavelength, that’s for sure.

Blonde dormie guy: “UMM, yoo-hoo! This red-haired guy has like, NO game.”

If Tempe wanted to flex some emotional maturity, he may want to content himself with some introspection before getting into any kind of romantic relationship.

And as a Popularity sim with a Knowledge secondary, the boy is conflicted.

And Tempe was being honest with himself, he wants to make something other than surface connections.

         Remy to the rescue. Kind of. The local pool hall is a hot spot for Cool Girls™, or so he claims.

Here goes nothing.

“…like I mean, she’s the one who left her eyeshadow palette behind, so I was like screw it, this is mine now.

So yeah, you start with that cool toned brown for the lid, and then for the brow bone, you can use glitter if you have it, but if instead – “

“OH! HAahahurhurh, I just love girl talk! I could girl talk all day long!”

“Ha, oh yeah pretty boy? You’re into makeup?”

“HaHA, heh, um…sure…”

While he’s not quick on his feet when it comes to actually keeping a girl’s interest, luck is on Tempe’s side today.

“Heh, yeah…you’re Temperance, right? You’re in my Computer Science class?”

“Haha heh – oh, uh, yes! Yes, me. With Professor Wilks. And it’s Tempe, that’s uh, yeah, uh – “

“You have any interest in tutoring? I mean I mostly get what we are doing with ASCII, but I feel like totally I don’t wanna like, memorize, because I know we are moving on to learning about Unicode soon.”

“Oh um, wow, yeah sure, I mean I already – “

Tempe’s potential tutoree is none other than Tina Sell.

Tempe is game for any kind of arrangement with Tina. Anything really.

“Remy, I really like the pool hall.”

Tempe’s roommate Wade takes to college as well as anything. He’s a pretty easy-going guy.

The freedom is great! But in another time, Wade should have gone right into the workforce, or maybe a trade.

He’s just not the bookish sort, is all.

     “Remy! Look!”

“Are all of those bottles of vodka?”

“One of these is rum!”

“Just don’t drop those…”

Despite not being an academic guy, Wade gets along surprisingly well with Seb.

“Um…well, that’s an interesting move for sure…”

“The knights can move that way, right?!”

“Uh, yeah! It’s that…um…why would you move there?”

“Well, I’d be letting you know my strategy then! Your move!”

Living with the Dreamer twins is also Wade’s first exposure to magic wielders who are not his mother. He is admittedly fascinated by them.

“So, you and your brother are like also, um…I don’t know, like, my grandmother was a witch, and she had a sister-witch, so like, you and Remy – “

“Yes, me and Remy are also brothers in magic. What’s up?”

“Nothing! Like, I don’t have the touch myself…I don’t think…but um, what do you both…ya know…do with it?”

“Do with it?”

“Yeah! Like, my ma she like, I don’t know…she does like, homey stuff…cleaning spells, soup for when we are sick, you know – “

“Oh! A Good Witch then.”

“Yeah! So, like…you guys – “

“I don’t speak for Remy, as that’s really his own business, but I’m more on the Neutral spectrum.”

“Cool! Cool, cool…so…”

“I’ll be known as a warlock in any community I am a part of. People may I try to exploit me or fear that I have the power to exploit them. So, I keep a low profile.”

“Temps, don’t you ever – “

“I’m getting off the computer in 15 minutes, okay, there’s – “

“Calm down, I don’t need the computer.”

“Oh...what’s up?”

“It’s just…don’t you ever wonder what Remy and Seb get up to in their room?”

    “Um, what? Ha, no? Are you like, jealous of their ‘brotherly love’?”

“No, asshole, I mean like…their magic stuff. I think they do that together. Like, what are they doing exactly?”

“Oh, I don’t know about any of that. Remy’s okay. We don’t talk about that magic stuff though.”

“Just like he doesn’t ask me about my computer stuff. We’re chill.”

“Yeah, but aren’t you curious?”

“No. Sounds like you’re curious though.”

Wade hasn’t chosen a major and isn’t too pressed to choose one soon. While magic interests him, it’s likely not in his future. He’s interested in girls but isn’t making a concerted effort to put himself out there.

Time will tell what exactly is in store for him.

Comparatively, Tempe is certain of at least one thing about his future.

“I am going to create the best MMO game the internet has ever seen.”

“Not grindy, not too easy, lots of customizability, sandbox environment, the best in-game music…”

“And I’ll release the code to other gamers as soon as it’s finalized for maximum replayability.”

Tempe knows he can’t hog the house’s computer to build such a game, however.

So Tempe decides to host an SSX3 gaming competition on campus. For research, of course.

“Alright let’s goooo motherfuckers! This is a no cheat speed run! Start the timer!”

A few other SSX3 aficionados join, like this gal here.

The thing with Tempe is that there are girls who into him. But Tempe only seems to like girls who are well, problematic.

“I’m kicking your ass LimeGreenQueen78! Eat my snow!”

“Can you. Shut. Up.”

“I am trying to fucking work here! Be quiet!”

“Woo! Get fucked T_Zone_9000! The golden trophy is mine!”

Temperance is the SSX3 victor.'

“Yee! I won!”

“Best 2 out of 3 LimeGreenQueen78? Let’s play again.”

“God, I’m leaving, fuck you guys.”

A new contender, Leo, enters round 2.

Leo wins!

“Aw man!”

“Wanna play again T_Zone_9000? You can take a look at the draft of my text-based game that I’m making – “

“No thanks.”

Tsk. Shallow.

  “Temps! Who’s the hottie sitting at the chess board?”

“Oh, that’s Bidi. She invited herself over for tutoring.”

“She needs help with her physics homework. She said something about how ‘we should convert our potential energy to kinetic energy’. I was going to see if her intro class was actually that far into the syllabus, because I don’t think – “

“Tempe, she just left.”

“…oh.”

     “Seb, not to judge but –“

“That is a great way to start a conversation.”

“I’m just wondering…what’s Remy’s deal?”

“Leave him alone, dude. What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Sorrryyyyy, it’s just like…he’s fine. But I feel like he hates me.”

“He doesn’t hate you. Remy just kind of has a resting bitch face. And he doesn’t like a lot of people.

“Oh…”

“He only really opens up around people he knows well.”

“He’s you know, a private person.”

“But you know him.”

“Yeah, but I grew up with him. Don’t sweat it. He’s really not all that super fascinating.”

“He doesn’t even tell me everything. He might even have a girlfriend and I wouldn’t know.”

        Seb, the “responsible” twin, while more upbeat and friendly than Remy, has his own secrets.

He’s focused on his studies. Classic Knowledge sim.

And amiable enough.

“Girls don’t mind that our couch is a mattress with no fitted sheet on it, right?”

Though a bit faint of heart, if you ask his brother.

“So, you’re going to ask her today, right?”

“Remy, why do you care?”

“Becauseeee, if you don’t, you’re going to lose out on a cool ass girl. Dumbfuck.”

“Get a life Remy.”

“I will! As soon as you ask Bettina to be your gf for real.”

“…so. This is…fun.”

“…hmm? Oh, sorry, I am going to make a move, I just –“

“Doyouwanttobemygirlfriend?”

Bettina is very pleased to be asked officially.

Though having a warlock boyfriend may upset her traditional mother a little…

       With an out and proud twin brother no less!

The Dreamer brothers have kept the machinations of what they do in their bedroom quiet.

Though Remy keeps even more to himself.

He leaves the house at night, for hours at a time…

…doing goodness knows what.

Wade and Tempe basically pay the magic stuff no mind until a day comes when the cow mascot overstays their welcome.

“Um, hey, can you like, leave?”

“Um, hey, can you like, leave?! HA!”

“What the hell?”

They don’t know who invited the cow mascot, but they are not welcome here.

“Hey hey! You know what they say about nostrils!”

“…huh?”

“Don’t them die virgins!” *POKE* *POKE* “OW! What the fuck?! Ow?!”

Unexpectedly, it is Seb that manages to get the cow mascot to buzz off.

“You need to leave.”

“Hey cutie, what if –“

…

“You got a problem?! Because…I…”

…

“Isn’t it…”

…

“Wow. Fuck you guys. I am leaving.”

“That was magic that did that.”

“No kidding? What did Seb do exactly?”

“Warlock secret Temps.”

“You’re full of shit. Seb didn’t even do anything.”

Or did he?

~~~

That’s all we have for this chapter!

Will Tempe get to kiss Tina Sell again? Will Wade ever get it together, or is he going to be juggling bottles forever? What’s Remy doing when no one is around?

[the-killer-kit]

Some Things to Note

THIS BLOG IS 18+!!! NSFW will go in DMs and a warning will be made on any new thread made for sensitive topics. I highly doubt there will be very many but just in case. I’ll do my best to warn you if that’s not your jam!

⚠️ PLEASE READ: Please keep in mind that Kit is a creepy character; he WILL flirt with your muse, he will be creepy, but nothing NSFW will happen without your express permission in DMs / tags. I will do my best to warn about anything. This character is not for everyone - he is off-putting, unhinged etc. Please keep his personality in mind. If you have any concerns, please read below for more information.⚠️

He will: flirt, potentially kiss, touch (but not in a NSFW fashion), or otherwise corner your muse in an uncomfortable fashion. He will never do anything non-con other than kiss (and I will not do non-con things even if you ask. Please do not ask ;w;)

Full name is Dwight Kit Fairfield

Title is The Obsessed; his build works around the Obsession in a trial. If you aren't the obsession, you're his primary target.

Should the obsession die early or leave the trial somehow, he essentially throws in the towel in grief and frustration that he wasn't able to get his beloved. That being said, if you're the last one alive...well. He's going to make a move. He wants you all to himself. Should you reject him, you'll meet the same fate as your teammates. If you entertain his advances, well...I guess you'll just have to find out what happens, won't you?

His power builds the longer the Obsession stays alive in a trial. His terror radius invokes fear in a frenzy; you begin to panic just by being near him, frantic to escape, which makes his search for love nearly a paradox. His lust for blood increases with each death, meaning he becomes more powerful as well.

However, this means that seasoned survivors that figure out his motif will make it harder for him to get kills the more they encounter him - so the Entity has cut him some slack by giving him fresher survivors for his trials so he can still feed her adequately while feeding off of his despair in his endless search for love.

Between trials, any survivor he finds has the possibility of being his next love - and thus you'll have to deal with his loving stares and searches for affection, but you at least won't be under the influence of his terror radius, even in his domain. 

For the most part, he finds other killers attractive as well. He's desperate for connection and romance. If they're within reason, he will try to court a fellow killer. 

His outfit is always a white suit with black accents, even though it may change from time to time in exact style. He often carries a rose or wilted flowers and a black pocket knife.

His favorite survivor is Jake, hinting that he might have had a yearning for one when he was still a survivor. He will often be the most unhinged and desperate when around one. Jake will almost always be the obsession if he is present in a trial.

art by the magnificent @poyo-ii​ 

[notsogreatpotoo]

Runaways & Soldiers

(may be updated later with more info about scenes, characters, plot, etc, but we will see)

referenced in this post but this is a currently dormant wip loosely based on that one tumblr post abt the 1860s

basically the idea is that six main characters meet and become unlikely companions under the stress of the civil war :]

abioye ross: was born a slave and later freed, but his wife is still enslaved. he’s very political bc duh. (one of his lines after being criticized for it is “I’m sorry for offending your white, upper-class sensibilities, and I also wish I was afforded the luxury of my existence here not being a political issue!”) ross is the last surname he can remember his mother ever using and while he was called john by slaveowners, his mother named him abioye, meaning ‘born into royalty’ because his mother wanted him to remember he was not what the white men said he was. would successfully improv a speech at the drop of a hat.

aodh byrne: irishman with a habit of being a little too blunt or unserious (humor to cope <3). he meets josiah as they’re moving away from MA, as he wants to avoid the new know-nothing governor. has to fight against people anglicizing his name in official papers as hugh bc ignorant bastards. grew up very poor but eventually his older brother was able to start bringing money home consistently. has to deal with the ‘no irish’ bs. aodh ends up becoming a son figure to / finding a father figure in ukita even though they don’t get along at first and josiah becomes a brother to him.

eugène barrault: he’s a french ex-pirate (old man) (not super old tho, he’s like 58), very loud to compensate for being mildly deaf, has a strange accent due to his travels. he becomes like an odd mentor to most of the group but jaquan is his partner (romantic). has so many weird skills from piracy. he loves to learn but didn’t really attend a formal school ever so what he knows and what he doesn’t is anyones guess. is always very excited to start a new adventure with the group. eugène is also the most likely to make a joke when they’re trying to be quiet.

jaquan ortiz: mestizo (mexican and comanche parents) man who chose to stay in the land usa got from mexico after the war. he initially moves to a port city to avoid tensions in the west and gets a job in handling cargo, which is how he met eugène <3. they literally bump into each other bc eugène didn’t hear jaquan’s warning and they were both carrying boxes. jaquan is just entranced by his partner’s ability to be so stupid and so smart (like me). he gets injured at one point and the exchange is: “I’m sorry I couldn’t be your husband.” “Respectfully Jaquan, what in hell else are you?” he helps reign in his partner’s tendency to be dangerously chaotic, and he’s really warm and loving, just quiet in comparison.

josiah campbell: he changed his first AND last name to run away and start a new life as a man outside of MA because of his prominent factory family. he’s stealth. he bonds a lot with aodh bc he realizes that he can lighten up even while presenting as a man, and he is fascinated with eugène’s seemingly endless life experiences and stories. keeps to himself a lot but is very kind and quiet and often enjoys the quiet with jaquan. aodh laments loudly that he doesn’t know how to make flower crowns after seeing some little kids make some and jaquan shows him how that night which ends up being an impromptu lesson to all of them. no one comments on him knowing how to make them. eugène ends up wearing flower crowns near daily for a little while after.

ukita iori: disgraced ex-samurai who feels a lot of shame surrounding his ‘cowardice’ but still wants to avoid interactions with those he loved so he feels a lot of culture shock from only being in america for a few years. hates drawing attention, frequently gets confused about how irreverent eugène acts despite being an elder, and ends up bonding with abioye over people hearing their names and not even wanting to bother despite the fact that they’re not that difficult. at one point aodh gets in a bar fight bc of some bastards and ukita finishes it, and despite being drunk off his ass, aodh lights up at the sight of him and it causes ukita to reflect because he’s never treated him particularly well and instead of a lecture aodh receives a new protector.

[azuisreading]

Make Your Move by Heather Garvin

Abbie Linley loves her small-town life. Leaving for college may be the next step for her friends, but she’s not ready to walk away from the horses. She’d happily keep her world the same, but everything around her seems to be changing. Starting with her gruff, new farrier. Carson Daniels’s only job is to shoe horses, but he gets more than he bargained for when he shows up at the Linley’s barn. The last thing he needs is to get distracted by the owner’s beautiful daughter—even if she’s the only good thing he can say about Florida. It would never work. She has a boyfriend. And he’s leaving. Between his dry sense of humor and her ever-growing realization that her boyfriend isn’t all he’s cracked up to be, Abbie and Carson can’t seem to stay away from each other. Abbie thought she had realistic expectations about love. Carson went and raised the bar on all of them. She would never ask him to stay for her. He won’t ask her to go with him. But they’ll make the most of the time they have left. It’s only one summer, but maybe that’s okay—maybe they can put it all behind them. Or maybe it will fuel a love they could never forget.

Review

I was part of the ARC team of Heather Garvin again, with this amazing book this time, and I’m so grateful for this opportunity and to have met such a lovely and understanding person. I’m writing this review because I loved the book and everyone who likes those topics and tropes (and maybe some people that not) should read it.

I’m not even going to sugarcoat it, I loved Carson at first encounter. I already had some spoiler-y sights of him before getting to start reading, so I knew I was going to love him anyway.

The one thing that surprised me, after all those stories I had read and all those ARC teams I have been in, is that the story was only in Abbie’s POV. And it was refreshing. It makes me remember how real life works, which is kind of weird, I know. But worked to put some things in perspective.

We really need to communicate in a healthy way. Yeah, I know that seems to be the only thing I talk about, but it’s a need to prioritize it. Just talking about things and communicating aren’t the same things, and we saw it here with Abbie and Seth and Carson. If we aren’t honest with our intentions, we can’t really make a lot of things work, and though there are a lot of details that can (or not) help, communication is always a good, if not great, way.

I understood Abbie during the first part because, well, the situation was close to my heart, I have lived through that more times than I would like (zero, that is), but I didn’t suffer there. I would have pretty much liked for her to pass some time alone before going headfirst to the second part, but I also understand when emotions and feelings are going around, it’s healthier to just hear them out. She had a part when she acknowledged it, so for it, I’m not leaning heavily on it. She knew better than me what was better for her, didn’t she? I suffered during the second part.

It’s that, from the start, the story, the setting, and the characters are telling you, screaming to you, what’s going to happen. And even when I wanted the opposite, I’m no one to change the course of a story that’s already written. I didn’t want it to happen, but I have no force to stop it, so I suffered and accepted it, and it was hard anyway. The toughest part was when you discover that what you always thought will happen, don’t happen. Of course, I was happy! Thrilled! But I couldn’t help but think that all the emotions I brewed during the whole story were wasted! Why did they make me suffer that way when the story was going to end how I like them to do?!

Well, that’s how you know you like a story, right?

Phrases that I liked so much that I marked them while reading

«Horseback riding fuels my soul, but as I run my hands through my sweat-soaked hair, I can’t help envying those with cooler passions—physically cooler. There are endless hobbies I could have chosen. Not something like cliff diving or wakeboarding. And I’m down for the count when it comes to anything that requires me throwing a ball, but I’m sure with a little time I could have found something. Who am I kidding? Riding is in my blood. It’s what I live and breathe, and even though I spend most of my days drenched in sweat, I wouldn’t have it any other way.» — One.

«I swear he gives me a dubious look, but I might be projecting my own concerns.» — One.

«“What? Can’t a guy think his girlfriend is gorgeous?”» — One.

«My mother may not love her laugh lines, but they’re one of my favorite things about her. They make her look as genuine as she is. I mean, who wouldn’t want to look like they’ve had a lifetime of laugher?» — One.

«“I just find it strange you two haven’t discussed what you’ll do once he leaves.” It is strange, but I don’t want to be the one to bring it up. I’m not the one leaving.» — One.

«He raises his eyebrows like he’s asking if his answer is good enough. I don’t know if it’s good enough.» — Two.

«His lips quirk ever so slightly, and a sense of accomplishment fills me for making him almost smile.» — Two.

«Seth may be good-looking in the boy-next-door, eat-your-heart-out kind of way, but Carson looks like the type of guy who could make a woman’s knees weak with a single glance. I’m assuming. Definitely not speaking from experience.» — Two.

«Mom beams at us, oblivious to the tension thickening the air. I wonder if Carson can feel it. It’s probably in my head.» — Two.

«“What do you think you could use?” He forces air out through his nose. “Being left alone.” I let out a breath of laughter. “I think I invited you to the wrong place. I’ve never seen Christina give someone her undivided attention.” A low laugh escapes him as he looks down and shakes his head. “I’m good.” I gape at him. “You’re good? You did see her, right?” He nods without looking at me. “I did.” “She’s gorgeous,” I say, not bothering to hide my shock. “She is.” “So, what’s the problem?” He looks at me with enough focus to make me falter. I expect him to say something, but he doesn’t. He just looks at me, and the sound of the crackling flames gradually gets drowned out by my hammering heart. After what can only be described as the most intense silence of my life, he simply says, “She’s not my type.”» — Four.

«The way he’s watching me makes me feel like he’s been waiting for me to look up, and as soon as our eyes lock, he nods towards his truck. “I’ll take you home.”» — Five.

«Carson nods before picking up his pitchfork and getting back to work. “I like it.” “You do?” He glances at me. “Why wouldn’t I?” I don’t want to give him another reason not to like Seth, so I just shrug. “You don’t strike me as a kid person.” It’s not the truth I was thinking, but it’s certainly not a lie either. Carson lets out a real laugh, and the sound of it makes me grin. “Kids love me.” “Are you sure?” I ask with a crinkle of my nose. “Maybe they just didn’t want to hurt your feelings.”» — Seven.

«“You don’t have to tell me what’s bothering you, but I want you to know that you can, okay? […] Just know I’m here.”» — Ten.

«“Fat and lazy.” “Fat and happy,” she corrects.» — Twelve.

«“Tell me everything.” “What about Zumba?” “Forget Zumba. Tell me everything.” “Where are you going now?” “I have no idea, but this building has chairs in it.” She drops her voice to a whisper. “I just can’t start yelling about how much I wish that asshole would fall off his horse. They might kick me out.” “Probably,” I say with a laugh.» — Twelve.

«He was my boyfriend, but he didn’t contribute to making my life better. If anything, not having to worry about him these past few days has felt like a break I didn’t know I needed.» — Twelve.

«Laughter bubbles in my throat, but I do my best to keep it down. “You’re dumb,” I finally say. “You like it,” he answers.» — Seventeen.

«“We should really throw some of these away.” I gently pull on a faded and dirty yellow Walk-Trot ribbon from when I was younger. Her eyes widen. “I would never.”» — Eighteen.

«It probably can’t compete with the trails in Tennessee,” I offer, assuming that’s what he was thinking. Glancing over his shoulder, he smiles. “Not even close,” he says, and when he turns back around, he adds, “I wish I could show you.” My heart flutters, but I do my best to brush it off. “Yeah.” Looking up, I take in the sunlit trees. “But Florida has its beauty, too.” I look at him. He has one hand resting on the back of the saddle as he looks back at me.» — Twenty-One.

«“I stopped riding because it wasn’t fun anymore, but I thought if I went with you, it might be fun again.”» — Twenty-One.

«“Or you could stay.” Carson’s voice sounds behind me, his arm reaching over my shoulder as he hangs his bridle next to mine.» — Twenty-Two.

«Sometimes as much as you want something to work, it just doesn’t. Trying to force it will only delay the inevitable.» — Twenty-Two.

«“My life back home is a mess, Abbie. I’m the one who messed it up, and I’m the one who needs to fix it.”» — Twenty-Two.

«“It will be fun,” I try to reassure myself. Carson looks over at me, a dubious eyebrow raised. “You think?” “Maybe.” I get up from the table and head back over to my pile of potatoes. “You probably won’t have to worry about it. It’s a couple of weeks away. You might not be here.” “I’ll be here.” “But you don’t even know the date—“ “I said I’ll be here,” he says, locking his eyes on me.» — Twenty-Six.

«But we can’t always get what we want. Sometimes we have to take what we don’t want and make the best of it.» — Twenty-Eight.

«“It’ll be fine.” “Yeah,” I say as I follow him. “That’s what everyone says before they walk into a murder den.”» — Twenty-Eight.

«“I can’t dance,” I say desperately as he pulls me along. “That’s okay.” He squeezes my hand in his. “I can.”» — Twenty-Eight.

«“I knew he was leaving,” I say as I turn back to the mirror. “That doesn’t mean it hurts any less.”» — Thirty-Two.

«He stares down at me and swallows hard. “How’s your…” He points to my own face. My eyes narrow. “How’s my cheek after you slapped me?” His eyes dart around the party. “Can you keep it down?” “No.”» — Thirty-Two.

«“I just know I wanted to put it off as long as I could because nothing beats seeing you happy. Nothing.”» — Thirty-Three.

«“I want you. I want you more than all of that.”» — Thirty-Six.

«“I want to try, Abbie. Let me.”» — Thirty-Six.

[hijitae]

If you could name a song that would work for this ship what would it be

I love this question, because I love creating playlists and “fan soundtracks” for characters, ships, and series. I don’t know if you’ve seen these two posts, but I listed some songs that gave me inspiration for HijiTae fan works prompts. I’ll just quickly chat about two:

Lovesong by The Cure A classic. This is for sometime after an established relationship and from Hijikata’s perspective. It’s a sweet, romantic song with just a hint of bittersweetness.

Whenever I'm alone with you You make me feel like I am home again Whenever I'm alone with you You make me feel like I am whole again

There is a sense of healing in these lyrics and the entire song. Hijikata regrets the way he handled things with Mitsuba, and I can imagine him vowing not to make the same mistake again. When he finds a second love in Tae, he begins to forgive himself for the past and so begin to heal his heart – although this can happen beforehand, too. I think he’d be so surprised that he ended up falling for Tae, but in going the distance with her, I think he’d allow himself to be happy after probably denying himself any chance at joy in life (with or without a partner) from long-time guilt and a belief that he might die young in battle.

Endless Ways by Anathema This is a song from Tae’s perspective. Tae has spent her whole life taking care of others and sacrificing so others can be happier or live their lives easier. People always look to her for support, viewing her as a mother and sister figure. That can put a lot of pressure on someone. I can imagine how much of a relief it was to talk to Hijikata seriously in the Yagyuu arc, because he doesn’t view her as a mother, a sister, or even a close friend at that point. He’s somebody entirely new to her, someone she can’t likewise view in any familial way. He’s not depending on her to play any kind of role for him, and I think she would appreciate that. They can meet each other in the middle, equally.

Hold on, hold on for dear life And run, and run all night For you are loved in endless ways Stay with me, please believe I can't be your memory

These lyrics in particular are all about risk-taking for the chance of gaining something greater and life-changing; the melody also reflects this mood. Tae can’t believe she’s fallen for Hijikata of all people, but somehow, she's started seeing him differently. She knows he may not return her feelings, and she runs the risk of losing that friendship they have (because I think they are friends by the end of the series; closer allies and better friends after all that has happened). It’s scary, but she believes he’s worth the risk. She can no longer just be a “memory” to him, a friend, someone on the wayside. It’s why I envision her making the first move, taking the first step toward something more between them.

Anyway…lest I ramble any further, these are two songs I associate with them among others.

If you or anyone else have any songs that remind you of HijiTae, please feel free to recommend them. I’m always on the hunt for new music, and I have very eclectic taste, so I’m willing to listen from any genre and decade.

Thank you for the fun question! And thank you for your patience. I tend to take my time writing out replies for questions and correspondence with others because I'm thinking a lot about whatever it is I'm writing.

[madaboutmunson]

I posted 2,497 times in 2022

That's 2,497 more posts than 2021!

245 posts created (10%)

2,252 posts reblogged (90%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@misha-misha

@portaltothevoid

@steveshairychest

@hellfirehaley

@lengthofropes

I tagged 388 of my posts in 2022

#eddie munson - 336 posts

#stranger things - 294 posts

#eddiemunson - 290 posts

#eddie stranger things - 252 posts

#eddie the freak munson - 207 posts

#stranger things fanfiction - 121 posts

#fanfiction - 113 posts

#eddie munson fanfic - 108 posts

#eddie x reader - 80 posts

#eddie munson fluff - 74 posts

Longest Tag: 138 characters

#tiny eyebrow flash of i like what i'm seeing so completely distracted shortly before his expression changes to wth is going on on this day

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

See the full post

163 notes - Posted July 14, 2022

#4

Welcome to Madaboutmunson :)

As the name of this blog implies on May 27th I (and millions of others) fell in love with a fluffy haired, metalhead named Eddie Munson. So this is a little section of the internet I can come to and share my obsession with other people who also are obsessed

He is the first character I've ever met that inspired me to write fanfiction, and I love him for that because it pushed me to join this wonderful community and "meet" people I could never be without now (you know who you are you beauts!)

I'm still new to writing and love hearing from anyone who reads my stories. So totally happy to receive asks and/or feedback.

A bit about me...

I'm so old, like I could be one of The Endless.

I'm bad a Tumblr, but I am trying my best here.

I'm from the UK.

My Eddie Munson Fanfics

Requests

Requests are open see here for info

Dad!Eddie Munson - Where there is no babysitter and Eddie has to juggle a toddler and get to his daughter's recital

EddieMunsonxReader - A case of mistaken Wayne-entity. Where reader moves to the trailer park, falls for Eddie but thinks Wayne is just another townie judging Eddie harshly

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Series/Multichapter

Creep (12 parts)

Pairing: Reader x Eddie Munson

Summary: You meet Eddie Munson under the trying circumstances of high school, an event you can't fully recall, and the fallout of being the only one who can piece things back together.

Warnings: Violence, death, fluff, amnesia, implied sexual intimacy, bullying, angst

Author Notes: First ever fanfic I've written (feedback welcome)

Thanks to everyone who read, liked reblogged and let me know how the story made them feel.

I am beyond thrilled that even 1 other person read and enjoyed this. What a wonderful community, thank you 💚💚

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Fire (17 Parts)

A story about falling in love against the odds, in the weird world of Hawkins.

This is mostly a fun, fluff type story, even your parents like Eddie, but there are some instances of threat and gore towards the end.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The Eddie Munson Tape Dates (with Sunbeam and Moonbeam universe from Fire)

In the fanfic Fire (above) Eddie has a box of tapes and each one is a date he's planned out for you. I decided to write a few up. In the end all of them. The first of which is directly from Fire

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

See the full post

180 notes - Posted June 28, 2022

#3

Ok so I love the Steddie HC which have Eddie reading to Steve I think it's the cutest.

I'd like to add that whilst Tolkien is first because Steve has to learn what Mordor is, I'd like some nights for it to be a choose your own adventure book.

- Eddie reads the set up and let's Steve make the decision generally (just like his DM role in Hellfire)

- Eddie always keeps a finger in the previous part page in case Steve makes a 'wrong turn'

- If Eddie ever complains about Steve's decision making. Steve snatches up the book and hits him with "Well alright Mr Smartypants, you decide" (Eddie loves this and can't hide his grin)

- Steve very much gets into being the book heroes (regardless of gender/personality)

- They exhaust the adventure books that Eddie has, so sometimes Eddie makes up a Story adventure for Steve on the fly

- Steve buys Eddie a huge set of these books for his birthday/christmas

- Eddie writes a hand bound one for Steve, where the main character is Eddie and he's rescuing Steve, because Eddie couldn't bare the thought of writing anything bad happening to Steve if he made a bad choice.

213 notes - Posted August 4, 2022

#2

Look I am not a d&d expert I've only been playing for a few years, but hear me out, I have to say I disagree with Steve being a Paladin.

Yeah he absolutely cares ferociously about his party, and will protect/defend them like the super single mom he is but to me that guy is a Barbarian.

he is first in, meat shield, and just because you are big and tough (even though he doesn't win all his fights doesn't mean he's not tough) doesn't mean you can't also be loving and kind.

See the full post

218 notes - Posted August 9, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Look, everytime I see these GIFs my brain does two things:

*INTERNALLY SCREAMING* WHERE IS YOU HAND STEVEN???!!!

*tiny boop sound* little hip bump

See the full post

346 notes - Posted July 21, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[the-orion-scribe]

I posted 80 times in 2022

That's 80 more posts than 2021!

35 posts created (44%)

45 posts reblogged (56%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@gravityfallsrockz

@hkthatgffan

@tazmiilly

@dyanshiba

@cbmagus49

I tagged 79 of my posts in 2022

Only 1% of my posts had no tags

#gravity falls - 72 posts

#dipper pines - 46 posts

#flufftober - 31 posts

#flufftober 2022 - 31 posts

#pacifica northwest - 28 posts

#dipcifica - 22 posts

#mabel pines - 19 posts

#reblog - 17 posts

#gravity falls fic - 12 posts

#gravity falls fanfiction - 12 posts

Longest Tag: 40 characters

#they may bicker but they love each other

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Day XIX. Hot Chocolate

Today, we explore how Dipper and Pacifica's romance blossoms over hot chocolate.

Written for day XIX of @flufftober

“Brrr… It’s chilly up here even in my sweater!” Mabel said. “I’m going down to make some hot beverage. Dipper, I know you want tea. Pacifica, what do you want?”

“She likes latte,” Dipper automatically answered. “With a little milk, less sugar. But her favourite is hot chocolate.”

A brief awkward silence followed as the two girls stared at him.

“…What?” Dipper peered up from his Journal, blinking. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No, no, no.” Mabel looked like a firework ready to set off. “Well, I’ll leave you two to chat, see ya!”

The temperature in the room seemed to have risen by a hundred degrees even as the storm winds howled outside. Dipper continued to write in his Journal, while Pacifica adjusted her earrings and applied her signature purple eyeliner in front of the mirror.

12 notes - Posted October 20, 2022

#4

Pacifica: (Insults Dipper)

Dipper: Your Highness is too kind

Pacifica: You're right. I am

12 notes - Posted October 29, 2022

#3

Day XXIV. All the Hugs

Summary: Pacifica learns the power of hugs

Written for Day XXIV of @flufftober

See the full post

13 notes - Posted October 24, 2022

#2

Introducing my fic series!

So welcome to my blog! Here I'll post updates related to my next-generation fic series.

What is it about?

It's time to pass the baton.

At least 30 years have passed since the summer that changed everything. Many have moved on, but while all the characters have grown up and settled down, the town of Gravity Falls is still a strange and weird place. Nesting among the woodlands and valleys, plenty of secrets remain, waiting to be unlocked.

Explore the stories and escapades of Dipper and Pacifica’s three children – Nita, Nilam and Taka – as they deal with all the endless paranormal absurdities and other ridiculousness that comes their way (preferably without their parents’ supervision).

Adventure! Mystery! Action! Grappling hook! These random bold-sounding words are alive and well in these exciting Tales!

Parental guidance is advised when browsing the following stories.

Artwork by Pau_Sketches, an amazing and delightful artist to work with!

Notes

My goal with this series is to try and create a believable next-generation series for the show, by keeping the fun, quirky tone of the cartoon interspersed with paranormal and mythical elements. And of course plenty of family fluff, with endearing parental moments and the unavodiable siblings' bickering and teasing. While I work on longer adventures with these Pines children, I might at the same time devote some efforts to one-shots (labelled with the prefix "Appendix") to keep myself motivated. These one-shots are a couple of stories exploring the side characters and background of the new generation.

I understand that next-generation stories are quite niche. But if you’ve dropped by here seeking such stories, I would appreciate it if you check out some of these works and hit the kudos button and/or comment! Any comments and constructive criticism help keep me going forward. Reblog too to help promote this series!

In the meantime, also try to crack the weird keyboard smashes or string of numbers left at the end of every story. These are actually cryptic messages, encoded in various ways (whether Vigenère, Caesar or Atbash). They might mean something or nothing.

Once again, stay weird and have fun!

16 notes - Posted August 12, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Day XXV. First dance

Summary: Dipper and Pacifica savour their first dance. A short moment taking place after the events of Northwest Mansion Mystery.

Written for Day XXV of @flufftober

See the full post

33 notes - Posted October 25, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[perryhedge]

Thoughts on Sing Yesterday for Me

Overall mixed feelings on this, especially with the inconclusive and maybe a little bit frustrating ending. But there are plenty of things I liked that I don't think I've gotten out of nearly any other anime. For one, I really liked the languorous atmosphere, general sense of melancholy, enhanced by the great OST. Loved the animation (some really showy character animation for big moments) and the show consistently looked really good. Colors looked great, too. I really liked the vivid lighting.

As for the story, there are a couple of things I like about it due to its uniqueness. For one, there is a genuine feeling of regret and inertia and unwillingness to move on, which is rare in anime but common in real life. The main characters are all adults, the main pair have known each other for a while. Their relationship, if you could call it that, is more reminiscent of what a mature relationship is like -- just being comfortable around each other, understanding each other on a deep level, being unable to be away from each other -- rather than the passionate first love kind of situation you see a lot in teenage romance type stuff. I liked that. I also liked the immense amount of inertia they have in their relationship and with respect to their past and all the time they have wasted. That's also pretty realistic. People don't just change overnight, even if they declare they have. There are also two notable scenes involving Haru that are predicated on pure chance, as if without that extra push things would not have worked out as they did. I find that pretty clever, and it really strengthens the line in the show's synopsis about a life "51% looking forward, 49% looking back". The characters all react differently to these circumstances too, though this is a little less interesting than it could have been since most of the characters let every chance go. Haru, though, despite her own commitment issues, does go all the way a few times when chance swings things her way, which I thought was really interesting and made her probably my favorite character.

The main woman who is a teacher (god I cannot remember her name already)'s indecisiveness gets to be a bit frustrating, especially near the end. But again, I've known people like this. I have been people like this. Unable to commit, constantly guilty about that but unable to not commit either. I don't want to get too much into this but it's an aspect I really appreciate despite how I get it might rub some people the wrong way. It may read as just "artificially lengthening the story", and yeah there are a lot of cycles and going one step forward and two steps back. But ultimately I think it builds a consistent character.

The way the plot moves forward in this show is very slow, and that's not necessarily bad, but I noticed a few common patterns. For one, there is an unbelievable amount of scenes that open with one character meeting another one on the way home and a conversation on the walk home together. This just strikes me as lazy and sometimes the show felt like an endless montage of these "walking home" scenes where the dynamics between the characters don't really evolve too much. Again, it sometimes serves a purpose but these parts can feel dragged out. In contrast, there are some blink and you miss it arcs that felt like they were there due to being unable to properly adapt the source material, notably one ex girlfriend and another love triangle that gets introduced. I did like the art and photography arcs (?) a bit but those go by quite fast too. Anyway, one nice thing about the "walking home together" structure of the show is it incorporates like, what it is like to live in a small-ish town I think. Constantly running into the same people, being bored and hanging out at the same spots. There was something really relatable about the idea of a romance springing up between a guy who works at a grocery store and a girl who comes to the store just to talk to him. Seems unbelievable maybe but go live in a suburb and you'll see, that shit happens all the time.

Wasn't particularly attached to any of the main characters, especially the main character. I did sort of like Haru. But MC's unwillingness to confront his own feelings is somehow less relatable and understandable than any other character. I don't really know why. I was taken aback when he confesses to Haru in the last episode, but I still think that's more or less a good moment due to its presentation. But he needed to be a lot more fleshed out, as it is he was just a bit irritating. Same goes for Rou, who for some reason is more egregious than most in the sheer repetition in his character arc.

Overall, beautifully presented show with some interesting ideas, and a unique atmosphere. Brought down by not really committing to doing a lot with these ideas, maybe because of adaptation limitations, maybe because it became hard to move forward with a story that is about not moving forward. But that's kind of what makes this interesting, isn't it?

[carlisles-girl]

OMG UR CAIUS FIC WAS SO GOOD COULD YOU DO SOMETHING AB ARO PLEASE

a/n: Thank you so much! I’m very excited to write for Aro, he’s one of my favourite characters, more so because of Michael Sheen’s performance. I put a slight reference to something in this, you might catch it if you know other projects Michael Sheen has been in, but you might not, and that’s alright. Hope you enjoy <3

another a/n: I did put one or two feminine terms in this work, such as ‘mia regina’ which is ‘my queen’ in Italian, so do skip over it or replace it with something else if you’d like. I love writing this type of material in the middle of my classes, it adds so much adrenaline to not get caught.

-

Aro Volturi With A Human Mate

-

Instead of being angry and frustrated like Caius, Aro was more excited.

Like as if he was getting ready for a big party.

A human for a mate was inevitable for some vampires, of course, but Aro didn’t expect to be included in the some.

He was excited since it was rare for such high profile vampires to socialize with humans.

Aro often gushed to his brothers, excited to meet you, but also for them to meet you.

He wanted to host a ball for your welcome.

But Marcus noted that it would probably be slightly frightening for you to be in a room full of vampires.

Most of the vampires would look at you as if you were some sort of a snack.

Because it Marcus’ comment, Aro assumed it would be a greater choice to send an invitation to a tour of the castle.

Free of cost, of course.

When you had received the invitation, you were beyond excited.

An invitation to a tour of an ancient castle with endless legends, for free?

Absolutely.

The tour was the next day, so of course you were slightly nervous.

When the tour commenced, a very pretty woman named Heidi lead the tour group.

She began to speak of secrets of the castle, as well as secret corridors and legends.

Some things a normal tour guide would most likely have no idea about.

Heidi then looked in your direction, and smiled brightly at you.

“It’s very lovely here. I’m sure you’ll love it.”

Just when she had finished her sentence, she opened the doors where there were three men sitting in thrones, and what seemed to be 4 guards.

The man who sat in the middle, greeted everyone and began speaking greatly of the castle.

He had only stopped when he motioned for your tour guide, Heidi, to come forward.

She did as told, and held her hand out towards him.

You would have thought it was to greet him, but it seemed like he was concentrated, or zoned out.

“Magnifico! I will get Demetri to escort them.” (Translation: “Magnificent! I will get Demetri to escort them.”

A man who you assumed was Demetri, walked in your direction.

“Come with me, all will be alright, rest assured. However, do not look behind you.”

You went with him, doing as he said, but immediately turned around when the rest of the tour began screaming.

“What the hell was that?!”

Demetri just grabbed your wrist and brought you upstairs.

“Just stay in here, I’ve been instructed to keep you under my eye. Aro will explain everything to you.”

“Aro?”

“The man who sat in the middle throne.”

You nodded, and decided to sit on one of the window seats.

You wanted to ask Demetri as many questions as you wanted to, but you didn’t want to bother him, or disrupt him from his job.

When the door had opened and Demetri bid his farewells, you had turned around and saw Aro.

“You must be Y/n, correct?”

“Yeah, and you’re Aro?”

“I am, I assume you have a good amount of questions?”

You nodded, and Aro moved swiftly but smoothly towards the opposite side of the window seat.

“May I?”

“Of course.”

He sat opposite to you, and smiled slightly at you.

“There’s no need to be afraid of me, or the others. You’re the most safe you could ever be in the castle. I promise you, I will keep you safe.”

“May I ask why the rest of the tourists were screaming when I left?”

“I sense that that question should be answered later, appropriately.”

You were slightly frightened as to what the final answer would be, it could be anything.

Perhaps there was a reenactment of the past after you had been escorted, one of the tourists got pushed and the rest screamed since one of them fell, or the worst:

They were murdered.

“I feel like I already know what happened.”

“I sense that you do know, too. I will tell you everything in a moment. But for now, would you care to lend me your hand?”

You trusted Aro, though you were positive your ancestors were screaming from above or below not to trust him.

You held your hand out in front of him, and before he held your hand in his own, he asked for permission or something else.

“I want you to think of the happiest memory you have stored in your mind, I will describe it to you. I will not see anything else besides the things you want to show me, unless I have your permission.”

You thought of a memory, and then placed your hand in Aro’s palm.

He covered the back of your hand with the palm of his other hand, then he began telling you small details of your chosen memories you had even forgotten about.

When he was finished, he brought his head up from looking down, and smiled at your face of bewilderment.

“That is so cool! Is that like your superhero power?”

Aro smiled widely at your interest in his gift, and began explaining what his was.

“I have a gift, it’s called tactile telepathy. I can read everyone’s thoughts and memories with a single touch. The others in this coven have multiple different gifts, they help keep us safe.”

“So you’re all like superheroes?”

“Vampires, darling.”

After that, Aro enjoyed seeing your memories whenever you two were apart for some sort of time.

Especially say you were having a difficult time attempting to explain something to him, he would hold your hand and immediately understand what you were trying to say.

“I understand you, cara mia. I always will.”

And he was right, he understands you in every way possible.

Aro memorized your body language on how you react to different things, as well as your facial expressions.

When you’re uncomfortable with something, he will do absolutely everything in his power to make you comfortable.

Aro will burn down the entire world for you.

When it’s time for you to go to sleep, you best believe that Aro set up the most lavish and comfortable room for you.

The best and most comfortable bed, of course.

You lay down on his chest, and he brushes the hair out of your face, admiring your tired eyes looking back at him.

“Would you like for me to read to you, dearest?”

You nodded your head, and Aro would get up from wherever he was seated, swiftly retrieve a book, lay back down next to you, and begin reading.

He loved having you hold his hand while he read, it lets him see what you’re imagining the scene that he’s reading to you.

And when you fell asleep while he was reading, he would be so very content.

You curled up next to him, sound asleep on his chest.

Aro adored seeing what you were dreaming.

He loved how humans brains worked while they were sleeping, keeping your mind entertained with multiple little scenarios.

When you woke up, however, Aro would prefer to have you describe your dreams, if you remembered them.

He loved to learn more about humans, especially in the modern age.

And you loved to learn more about vampires, especially in the ancient times.

Aro would often tell you stories of each coven he encountered, his old family and friends, and his past human life.

As much as he wants you to be changed into a vampire like the rest, he can’t help but smile whenever you got slightly nervous around him, stuttering over your words, and hiding your face with your hands out of embarrassment.

He pays attention to little details about you.

Especially your eyes.

Even the shade of your eyes stops him from changing you. Your eyes wouldn’t be as unique anymore, they’d be the same red as everyone else’s.

“You have the most magnificent shade of colour in your eyes, mia regina. I simply cannot get enough of them.”

Being absolute best friends with Demetri.

But wherever Demetri was, Felix wasn’t too far behind.

You three are like a troublemaker trio, always causing trouble and pulling pranks on different members of the guard.

Never Jane or Alec, though. Unless it was a scheduled board game night or something along the lines.

Which Alec loved to take away different players senses, allowing him to cheat in the games you’d play.

He doesn’t do it all the time, though.

Marcus was a lot more welcoming towards you, perhaps more than anyone else.

Whenever Aro couldn’t, he’d show you different areas of the castle you hadn’t seen yet, and would give you wonderful pieces of advice along the way.

“Remember to stay true to yourself, never let anyone think for you.”

Aro will spoil you insanely.

If you mention a specific piece of clothing even once, you better expect that when you wake up the next morning, Aro has an elegantly wrapped package placed at the foot of your bed with a note written in fine handwriting.

“Mia amato, I have seen you speak of this article of fabric, and I have gone out of my way to make sure you have every little thing you admire. I need you to be the happiest you can possibly be. Please accept my gift, and meet me by the gardens by noon. I’ll see you then. Cordialmente, Aro.”

You two have annual walks throughout the garden, usually during golden hour. The sun still above, but setting at the same time, making it seem like Aro was made of a trillion Tiffany Yellow Diamonds.

He loved finding a flower that suited your mood for the day, and putting it behind your ear.

“My beautiful.”

You two often walked either arm in arm, or hand in hand, but sometimes you would hold him closer with your arm wrapped around his waist, your head leaning on his side or shoulder.

Often times, when the moon is visible, you would slow dance together, looking at each other with smiles on your faces, just appreciating each other’s presence.

Usually, Aro would come back into the castle around 2 in the morning, carrying your sleeping self up to your shared room, after you had fallen asleep on his shoulder while sitting in the garden.

The rest of the kings and guards would be predominantly more happy than from before you had arrived.

You had given Aro something to look forward to after trials and mountains of work, something he didn’t have for hundreds of years.

Though, Caius was still slightly jealous of you.

You had practically stolen one, if the not the most, needed member of the vampire world. Aro was nearly as focused on you than he was on trials and legislature.

He’d warm up to you eventually.

At least, you hoped.

Speaking of trials, you wanted to sit in and watch the trials, to see what it was about, and how it worked.

You knew the most of it, of course, Aro had already told you. But you wanted to see it live.

Aro was quick to say no, he didn’t want you to get hurt, or worse, killed.

He understood what would happen to him if his mate was killed, Marcus was the example. He couldn’t even bear the thought of you not being by his side.

Though, you owning the key to his heart, convinced him to let you watch, letting both Jane and Alec stay on either side of you, protecting you if anything were to go wrong.

You would usually sit on Aro’s lap, and then the throne when he had to see what was truly going on by using his gift.

Jane usually stood on the left of the throne, and Alec on the right.

Mainly since Caius sat on the throne in the left, and Jane loved to torture the criminals.

He loved the front seat view.

Constant look backs of reassurance to make sure that you’re alright.

Nearly always having your hand in his.

Forehead kisses.

Constantly bringing the back of your hand up to his lips.

Getting the absolute best care in the world, health wise especially.

When Aro proposed, it was in the bedroom the both of you share, and he was reading some poetry to you.

All was going swell, and then he got to one page.

“I can write no stately poem

As a prelude to my lay;

From a poet to a poem

I would dare to say.

For if of these fallen petals

One to you seem fair

Love will waft it till it settles

On your hair.

And when wind and winter harden

All the loveless land.

It will whisper of the garden,

You will understand.”

At the end, you were leaned up closer to him, looking at him in awe.

He closed the book, and placed it aside gracefully, before leaning slightly closer to you. Placing his hands overs yours.

“Do you remember who wrote that, cara mia?”

“I do. That’s Oscar Wilde, right?”

“That’s right. There’s so much I want to say to you, especially in this particular moment, but I don’t think there’s enough words to express my love and affection towards you. I’ve known you for a little while, and I can feel the bond between us, and I know you can feel it, too. The universe has guided us together, and I am so very thankful for every second we have spent together, and I’m even more thankful for the rest of eternity we have. However, I am the most thankful of the fact that I have the most gorgeous human as a mate. I love you so much, anima mia. Will you do me the best thing that could ever happen to me in my thousands of years, and marry me?”

You said yes, obviously, who wouldn’t?

You leaned over to press your lips against his, as he held one side of your face with one hand, and the other hand slid a ring on your ring finger.

While Aro wanted an extremely lavish wedding, with all the diamonds in the world, you wanted something more of a homely essence.

So you compromised, and had a bit of both.

Aro invited nearly every vampire to the wedding, wanting to show you off in every way he could.

The Denali’s, Cullens, Irish coven, everyone was invited.

Except for the Romanian coven, Vladimir and Stefan. Not trusting them to be in your presence.

The wedding was held in the garden, the arch where Aro stood had your favourite flowers intertwining around it, with diamonds pressed in the centre of each individual flower.

Demetri walked you down the isle, smiling proudly when he handed you over to Aro.

Proud that his leader had finally found true love, and that one of his best friends is finally where they need to be.

After the official wedding ceremony, the rest of the night and day were spent smiling and showing off each other to the guests.

When the night ended, it was finally time for you to be changed to a vampire.

Aro sat by the bed were sitting on, making sure that you were absolutely ready to be converted to a vampire for the rest of eternity.

“Are you ready, my darling?”

You nodded your head, and Aro took one final look into your coloured eyes, attempting to remember every small detail of them.

Aro then moved your hair away from your neck, before placing his lips over where he would finally bite down and turn you immortal.

“Just say when, and I’ll see you after.”

[gracestone]

pls rant 👀👀👀

I'm so glad you asked! 👀 Sorry it took me so long. Since this is probably the only opportunity I'll get to talk about it (unless I wanna make my own post), I wanted to get all of my thoughts out in one go. Which ended up being very overwhelming, since I have so many 😂 So strap yourself in for a looooooooooooong rant.

Ben & Saanvi

I'll start with B*nvi because that's the shortest rant and because my dislike for the ship stems from their incompatible character arcs (and the shippers) and has nothing to do with a dislike for either of the characters involved in the ship.

Ben's biggest character flaw is that he's so afraid of losing his family that he gets too wrapped up in saving/protecting them in the long term that he loses sight of their emotional needs and even sometimes their safety in the here and now. He's a math guy and tries to "solve" all of their problems, because that's how he thinks he can protect them. But as we saw in season 1 and 3, that often backfires on him and causes tension between him and his family. Especially with Grace, as she's usually the one left to pick up the pieces and keep their family together while Ben is out taking all these huge risks.

Ben has always needed Grace to keep him balanced and to remind him of his family's (emotional) needs. She's what's held him back from going too far in the name of protecting his family, because going too far would mean losing them. And the two times he did go too far, she called him out on it and held him accountable. That's what Ben needs to grow and change for the better.

Saanvi, much like Ben, is obsessed with the mystery of the Callings. Though she comes at it from a slightly different angle: instead of focusing on solving it, she wants to save everyone and thinks it's her responsibility to do so. She's so wrapped up in saving everyone through her work that she neglects to take care of herself. As Alex says, Saanvi is "always looking out for other people at the expense of [herself]." Which is incredibly unhealthy, as we see when it's taken to the extreme in 2x13 when Saanvi kills the Major in a desperate attempt to save Zeke.

The problem with Ben and Saanvi as a duo is that they enable each other's bad habit of burying themselves into work. Which isn't to say that they're bad friends to each other. For example, Ben did encourage Saanvi to eat something once when they were working together. But they would never tell each other to stop and live a little. Which is something especially Saanvi needs to hear. Both Ben and Saanvi need someone who can pull them back and make sure they take care of their own emotional needs too. Grace does that for Ben and, from what little we've seen of her, Alex does that for Saanvi.

There's also the simple fact that Ben loves Grace and Saanvi loves Alex. Ben has called Grace his everything and even chose her over Eden in 2x10, and I highly doubt he'll be able to move on from her any time soon, if ever (and he may not have to, but that's a theory for another post). And Saanvi has called Alex her soulmate and said it felt like the universe wants them to be together. When has she ever talked about anyone else like that? If science-driven Saanvi talks about someone else that way, you know it's true love. While Ben and Saanvi have a wonderful and meaningful friendship, there's nothing in the show that suggests that they have the kind of love Gracen and Alexvi feel for each other. Let alone a romantic love that's stronger.

Jared & Michaela

Where do I even start? The list of reasons why they're a terrible match feels endless.

As the show starts, we're immediately told that we shouldn't expect Michaela to go back to her old life: "All I know is... it was the day my life changed forever. [...] Funny how one little decision can ruin your life. But also save it." Note how Michaela remarks that the Callings saved her life. That implies that she needed saving from what her life used to be. And while she says all this, we also learn that she has reservations about marrying Jared. In fact, her family has to talk her into it. Part of this is related to her guilt about what happened with Evie and how she feels about herself. But her father also says in 1x05 that she wasn't sure she wanted to marry Jared back in Jamaica, which implies that there was more to it.

Jared proposed IN PUBLIC despite knowing that it was probably too soon for Mick ("I should have never proposed so soon after the accident. I mean, she's not ready. Now she's gonna get off that plane and turn me down." - Jared in 1x05) and that she was still very much traumatized from the accident. To the point that she couldn't drive and was on desk duty.

Jared didn't go to the airport to see Michaela upon her return DESPITE later (1x10) admitting that he knew he would choose Mick over Lourdes. He strung both of them along for several weeks. All because he didn't think that Mick was going to accept his proposal (1x05), so he couldn't have her. But that didn't stop him from emotionally and physically cheating on Lourdes with Mick. Lourdes even asked him about his feelings, but he lied and said he was only looking after Mick because he felt bad for her.

Remember this line from the pilot?

This is the original line in the Pilot script:

Note how Jeff decided to make Jared look worse and had him emotionally cheat on his wife. In episode freaking 1. That's a terrible look on him. These writers weren't trying to make him attractive from the start.

And speaking of how Jared treats his other love interests, do we really want Mick with a guy who 1) cheated on his wife, 2) lied to Tamara, who he was sleeping with, and used her to arrest her brother, and 3) emotionally cheated on Sarah (despite Mick not reciprocating at all)? This isn't attractive at all.

Jared also doesn't understand Mick's guilt. She outright told him in 1x01 that her lawyer convincing a judge that she was innocent won't make her feel like less of a murderer. And what does Jared tell her in 1x03 to try and comfort her? "Mick, it wasn't your fault. You were cleared. The department did an investigation, and they cleared you." He doesn't understand her core struggle and he never will. Because he doesn't feel any guilt himself. Ever. He has never once taken responsibility for his part in the shooting in 1x16, let alone apologised for it. Nor did he ever apologise for trying to get Zeke locked in prison based on false charges. Compare that to Zeke apologising to Mick in 2x01 for accidentally shooting her while she was bleeding on the floor, while Jared was too busy trying to get Zeke out of the way by calling the cops and putting the blame for the incident all on Zeke. Zeke took responsibility right away, and did so again by turning himself in. Because Zeke feels that same guilt Mick feels. That's what bonded them so strongly in 1x13.

Jared turns Mick back into a version of herself she doesn't want to be anymore: a wrecking ball in her friend's life. She thought Jared and the force were her path to redemption, but ultimately realised she was wrong and let go of both of them after they cheated. Even before that point, Mick was already trying to distance herself from him, though Jared and their work wouldn't let her.

Jared also doesn't respect the boundaries Mick sets with him. She told him in 1x14 that she couldn't talk about the right now because Lourdes had just left, and she leaves the conversation in tears. After Jared meets Zeke in 1x15, which is that same night, Jared asks Mick out for breakfast. This is HOURS after Mick told them she couldn't talk about them right now. All cause he was instantly jealous of Zeke and felt threatened by Zeke's presence in Mick's life, despite Zeke not having made any real moves on Mick (or Mick on him).

Speaking of Zeke, Jared 1) has judged him and written him off as a junkie without ever even knowing him, 2) stalked and assaulted him, 3) brought a gun into Mick's apartment and went looking for a fight with Zeke, 4) was willing to let Zeke go to prison while knowing Zeke never intended to harm Mick (and without ever taking any responsibility for his own part in the events of that night), 5) was disappointed when Zeke survived his death date DESPITE WHAT THIS MEANT FOR MICK'S HAPPINESS AND CHANCES OF SURVIVAL, and 6) has voiced OUT LOUD that Zeke should be dead. THIS MAN DOESN'T LOVE MICHAELA.

Jared knows his only tie to Mick is the force, so every time she quits or contemplates quitting, he shows up at her house at night, barges in (despite her protest and without waiting for permission), and tries to strengthen their bond in some way:

Note how none of this is his business.

Season 3 repeats their season 1 storyline in many ways, but with their situations reversed. But in both cases it's still Jared making moves on Mick while Mick holds him off. Even more so in season 3. Because Mick has moved on, but Jared still hasn't, and he can't accept that she's moved on from him and is happily married. This emphasizes how Jared hasn't grown AT ALL, while Mick has gone on a long journey of healing and finding true happiness.

Jared got her shot and never apologised for it or took any kind of responsibility for it. He was too busy trying to paint himself as a hero. Compare that to Zeke feeling so guilty that he went to jail for it. Not to mention that Zeke immediately apologised to Mick while she was still bleeding out on the floor.

After three whole seasons, Jared STILL doesn't have any faith in the Callings. Mick constantly has to explain to him why it's important to help her and why her Callings should be followed. Not only does Mick constantly need to convince Jared that he needs to help her with her Callings (especially when he doesn't think he'll get any kind of reward out of it), he ends season 3 straight up telling her that he doesn't care about the Callings. Don't get me wrong, he's allowed to be hurt by how the Callings mess up his life, but let's not forget that Mick has to follow all of her Callings TO SURVIVE HER DEATH DATE. AND JARED DOESN'T CARE. THIS MAN DOESN'T LOVE HER.

Speaking of Mick trying to follow her Callings and Jared being difficult, this was especially evident in 3x12 and 3x13. Mick had a big Calling about someone's life being in jeopardy and she needed to speak to several passengers in holding, including Adrian. Jared refused to send a cruiser after Adrian after he was released from custody. And what did Adrian do next? His words caused Angelina to go and grab Eden. And kill Grace in the process. Jared's unwillingness to help Mick because he couldn't play the hero in her life anymore led to Grace's death. I'm not saying he willingly caused it, of course, but Jared's refusal to have faith and change for the better has led to terrible consequences twice now: Mick got shot in 1x16 and Grace died in 3x13.

A lot of Jared's other responses to Mick's Callings also haven't been good. He gets mad at Mick when he finds her, Zeke, and Drea in the interrogation room and at the end of that scene says to leave him out of it. Despite that being exactly what they had been doing when he came into the room. In S1, he's told Mick that the voices in her head were making her go soft, blinding her

Jared also straight up guilt trips Mick in 2x03: he tells her that he blew up his entire life for her, and that's why he now refuses to help her free Zeke, despite him knowing that Zeke is innocent. Blaming the mess that's his life on Mick is incredibly unfair, because he's a grown man who made the choice to cheat on his wife with her. Mick doesn't owe him a relationship just because they made a mistake together. To make her resentment even more evident to Mick, he tells her "Guess I'm not the only one who blew up their life. Hope it was worth it." in 2x03 after Mick manages to free Zeke. Which, again, makes it really clear that Jared resents Mick for not rewarding him for his "sacrifice" (aka a wife he didn't really want anymore) by being with him. This kind of guilt tripping is always disgusting, but especially with a character like Mick who's really prone to intense feelings of guilt. WHICH JARED IS AWARE OF. He saw the aftermath of Evie's death and Mick's feelings of guilt about it, even if he couldn't fully understand her guilt. He uses that against her, instead of being careful not to make her feel guilty about choosing her own happiness and healing.

The show has tackled toxic and/or abusive couples several times. And each time, they either directly compared Jared and Michaela's relationship to them (the wrecking ball comparison in 1x10) or it was easy to draw connections between them as a viewer:

Some of Mick's reactions to Jared's outbursts or the way she prepares herself before telling him something she'll know he'll respond badly too also remind me of someone in a toxic or abusive relationship. Which doesn't mean that their relationship was ever abusive before, or even toxic. We have no evidence to suggest that. But it is a red flag for the current state of their relationship and the direction in which it could be headed if they don't break out of this cycle.

But most importantly: Michaela doesn't want to be with Jared. No, I don't think her response to Jared and Sarah in S3 involved any jealousy. I think she was just genuinely suspicious of Sarah's intentions and worried she could pose a threat to the passengers, maybe even Jared. Every time Jared says they should be together (or some variation of that), she shakes her head. She did the same thing when Jared said that Zeke should be dead. Mick has chosen to be with Zeke at every turn, even when that was the hard choice to make, and she's never regretted it. He has given her a life to fight for, and she's gonna make sure she makes it to the other end of her death date so she can be with him forever.

So in conclusion: Jared doesn't truly love or even care about Michaela, and is just resentful that he can't play the hero in her life anymore. That man isn't good for her and should stay far away from her.

[scriptaed]

cherry blossom avenue.

❀ genre: angst/fluff; arranged marriage!au; f2l!au;

❀ pairing: jin x reader; 

❀ length: 23.0k;

❀ synopsis: college would’ve been unbearable if it weren’t for your wallowing sessions with your best friend jin over a shared “forever alone” woe, so it really was only a matter of time until the two of you sealed a shoddy promise to betroth the other at the age of 27. perhaps it was only a silly joke to you then, but you should’ve known better nonetheless; because when a wedding invitation arrives five years later down the road with his name signed next to another’s, feelings that were once buried begin to blossom once again.

“Don’t be a homewrecker.”

What was supposed to be a light-hearted tease over your fleeting glimpses in his direction bears much more weight than even reality should have; and unbeknownst to her, even if your friend’s commentary strikes a fear in you, a fear that has some creature eating away at you and a horrifying drop in the twisted pain of your chest, the daunting knowledge of a potential truth behind her words pale in comparison to the anguish brought upon by a familiar face of the past. 

Because even as you stand far and hidden behind the crowd of overly dressed classmates and unacquainted businessmen all painted by a silhouette of dimmed black, you manage to observe him through the few albeit sure opportunities; for when the passersby chatter, cross, and weave through the lavish ballroom floor at the perfect time, place, and space for you to peep through the pinholes seemingly formed by pure happenstance or a cruel wish casted upon by fate, the clock returns to a buried state of mind.  

It’s a state of mind seven years stale, mistakenly manifested and deliberately buried. It’s a transition in mindsets when fondness sours into a longing for something that could never be, for his reciprocation of affections means much less than its origins. It’s a heavy moment when you’re finally sure he would never come to speak the language of your enamored being. It’s that fractured frame in time when everyone freezes in their tracks but a reverberating pain transcends the laws of the universe, almost as if on a personal quest to oust you; and even if you vehemently down yourself with another magical shot of liquor, nothing can quite ease the internal war stirring within.

One hand grasping a glass of red wine worth much more than a month of your salary and one arm crossed under the bosom draped over by your only presentable black satin slip dress, you’re almost numb to the turmoil that is irony. How cruel is it that even after seven years of having believed you had moved on, nothing has really changed after all? Your heart still melts in the wake of his dorky grin, your chest still winces over the buried buds of a coveted love, and your blood still runs intoxicated by the presumption that this phase of infatuation would pass with time. 

Your friendship, your feelings, your shared promise, a youth that no one had paid witness to except for you, him, and that cherry blossom tree down that street, nothing has really changed. In fact, you feel as though you could still march across this room and nonchalantly probe at your best friend’s cheek with the ultimate goal of eliciting a shriek from your best friend. 

And yet, the circumstances that have brought you back to him in this very room must have been the one cruel exception. 

“A ‘homewrecker?’” you feign a light-hearted chuckle, swirling your drink and taking another sip as you peek at the distorted glass-image of the man and the woman beside him. “And why would you say something as horrifying as that?”

“Didn’t you say you and, what’s his name,” Alex pauses before nearly gasping, “ah, Seokjin! Didn’t you say you two used to be best friends in college? You might have been his best friend but she’s his fiance now, Y/N! Plus, she’s got a baby in her, too.” 

She might have been joking, and it really should have been if you had been truthful about your feelings for said best friend, but maybe this is the price you’re paying for so dutifully holding onto your dignity; so, instead, the deep undercut of her remark instigates a stirring irritation within you. Raising a questioning brow at your friend is all you can muster without spilling your secret as well as your brewing storm. 

“Oh, so you actually do remember what I say when you’re only a minute from blacking out?” 

“Hey,” your friend recognizes the anger seeping through your body language, stifling a giggle as she tries to bump your elbow and stumbles over her heels, “it was a joke, okay? I’m just looking out for my friend!”

“Right, what is there to even look out for?” 

“Well,” she points a finger at the direction you had just been staring off into a minute prior and leans in to whisper, “you’ve been staring at the newly engaged man for much longer than the woman beside him, if that says anything—”

“—uhuh, as if, hey!” you almost yelp as you help her stand upright once again. A scoff of disbelief escapes your lips over the sight of your friend letting herself go. Grabbing her glass and swiftly placing it onto the tray of the many passing waiters, you squish her cheeks and give her a light pat or two. “The only person you need to worry about is yourself. Why are you even wearing those ungodly stilettos when you can’t even wear kitten heels without whining all day at work?”

“Hey,” Alex pouts, bending one knee and jutting her hips to show off those torturous pink devices on her feet. “I told you about my ex from high school, don’t you remember?”

“So it’s okay if you’re trying to impress an ex from high school, but I’m not even allowed to glance at my old best friend?” you quip, pressing your lips into a thin line as you take another gander at your friend up and down. “And what does excessive drinking even have anything to do with it?” 

She flashes you a mischievous grin, “for confidence.”

“I can’t with you,” the roll of your eyes must have agreed, “and what about the classmate friend who actually invited you to her engagement party?”

“Oh,” Alex glances at the woman beside Jin and shrugs, “she’s alright. She’s that typical good girl. Too smart, too kind, too good at everything that you really want to hate her but have no reason to do so. I’m sorry, Y/N, but your best friend is devilishly handsome and I’m not surprised she’s marrying someone of her league.” 

“Pfft, why are you apologizing to me?” you scoff, ushering her to the washroom and shaking your head along with the stream of confusing emotions that hit you like a truck. “Go wake yourself up before she or, gasp, worse yet, your ex spots you.” 

“Oh my God, you’re right,” she gasps, shuffling in her skintight red bodycon dress and whirling around once more to call out before finally disappearing, “let me know if any boy comes looking for me!” 

“Uhuh, yeah, sure,” you shoo her away, taking another sip from your glass and muttering under your breath, “...how am I supposed to recognize your high school classmates?”

Now that your friend is gone and you’re left all alone to your thoughts, you go against your own advice and down another glass of liquor. 

You may have been his best friend but she is his fiance. 

Well, if Alex is a good judge of character, then at least a good man like your best friend has found an equally respectful woman. It might have hurt to hear her words, but Alex isn’t exactly wrong. At the very least, you could sigh in relief having known you’re genuinely happy for your best friend’s future. 

It’s just that the truth hurts sometimes. 

Relief isn’t an excuse for lingering onto a soon-to-be-married man, regardless of when these emotions came about. 

People are chattering all around you, strangers and former acquaintances are bustling about, familiar college classmates are greeting the bride-to-be’s high school classmates, and yet here you are: aloof and isolated even in a room of hundreds, fixated and more distant than you have ever been to the boy you had once cherished as the closest anyone could get to knowing the real you. 

No one would know but Jin. 

The real you.

The you who could not have moved on because she couldn’t recognize her own feelings until seven years down the road with a wedding invitation in hand, seven years after the buds had been sowed, seven years too late. 

The one who stands pathetically here in the corner of a room, secretly hoping for him to approach her but also wishing for the night to pass unnoticed just like she had wished for her buried affections to pass.  

So you shuffle in place awkwardly, pondering whether you should’ve caved into Alex’s pleas and attended this posh get-together, debating whether you should dip once your friend realizes her high school ex just isn’t worth it, sipping the remainder of opulent liquor and taking one last peek at the boy, when, your heart strikes loudly against your chest…

...because his eyes catch yours, a pair amongst hundreds, one invitee amidst an endless swarm of crowds, almost as if on a planned rendezvous, a secret unbeknownst to everyone in the room but the two of you.

Eyes widening in shock, the drums of your chest hammer against you, each strike pumping a nearly painful high that fuels your fight or flight mode. The debate between confronting your longtime friend and fleeing said friend did not even cross your mind at the start of the predicament. Quickly whirling around, head down and hands gripped to your drink, your feet move on its own. 

A familiar series of clicks echo against the polished marble tiles. You don’t even have to turn around to recognize those homecoming footsteps, those awe-inspiring confident strides as he makes his way across the room. If this were you from seven years ago, you would have welcomed him with open arms and he would have claimed you were just acting sweet to bargain for some fresh pastry, but the unfamiliarity of a stranger you have yet to reconcile with has you in an unexplainable panic. 

After all, it’s hard to explain why exactly his persistent pursuit after you, after seven years of distance, both emotional and physical, frustrates you to no ends. 

Your hands form fists, your feet storm down the halls, and your mind could repeat nothing but the words you had excused as “just a light-hearted joke.” 

You may have been his best friend but she is his fiance. 

Don’t be a homewrecker.

A baby in her.

A baby.

His fiance. 

A homewrecker.

The accusations echo and echo, as though screaming at you in the endless cave that is your mind, until the party fades, the crowd disappears, and the ear-piercing classical music wanes against the walls of your temporary solace, the bathroom. Finally, entrapped in a world of black—black tiles, wine colored walls, and dark red roses perched on top of what seems to be a black granite sink—you’re left alone to your thoughts. 

Alex wouldn’t understand a seven-year-long regret because she doesn’t know the real history between you and Jin. In fact, no one invited to this engagement party nor does anyone in this whole mansion know of the soon-to-be groom’s past. 

It isn’t as simple as people might make it out to be on the surface, because no one but you, Jin, and the street down your block had paid witness to a shoddy, spontaneous promise that should have never been made. 

Turning on the faucet and splashing a fresh handful of cold water onto your face, your eyes eventually wander from the stream of water that flows down the drain up along the glass bowl of a sink and into the mirror to meet the sullen eyes of a girl, seven years older with a stain of regret that spans much longer that a mere seven years. 

❀ ❀ ❀

“Waaah,” the boy exclaims as you watch your own reflection narrow its eyes at the image beside you. The spectacle persists to angle his chin every which way until he’s finally satisfied with the protrusion of his jawline; and as the boy resumes his daily activity of marveling at himself in awe, you have to wonder once again, for the hundredth time by now, just how you two had possibly become best friends. “Looking good, Jin. Looking real good.”

“Ugh,” you roll your eyes and feign nausea, “narcissist.” 

Jin pauses in the midst of his inspection, allowing his phone to settle into his lap and turning to glance at you with his head as high—well, almost as high—as his ego. “When you look as good as this,” he gestures at himself and your eyes follow his crafty fingers up and down, “don’t even try to tell me you wouldn’t be all up in yourself.”

You blink your eyes blankly and start with the most accusatory tone you could muster, “excuse you, Kim Seokjin, but are you saying that I don’t look good?” 

“You’re insisting that yourself, not me! It’s not my fault you can’t appreciate your God-given looks,” Jin raises his hands mercifully and you almost miss his latter, back-handed compliment when you become entranced by those double-jointed fingers of his. “Plus, I said ‘when you look as good as this.’”

“Psh, yeah,” you mumble, “and yet here you are, still as forever alone as ever.”

“Hey,” he snaps, narrowing his eyes at you even as he raises his phone to take yet another selfie, “and what does that say about you?”

“...and that’s exactly why,” you chirp as you hastily smush your cheek against his and throw a peace sign just as he snaps a photo, “we’re gonna be forever alone together!” 

“Hey, why’re you ruining my selfie—” he pauses in the middle of his camera roll “—oh, we actually look good.”

Glimpsing at one of many candid photos of you and him, a helpless smile spreads across your lips. A warm breeze blows and you can practically smell the impending spring that breathes life into the pink buds hovering on the cherry tree above you. The sun’s embrace against your bare legs that lie beside your best friend’s on the red and white checkered picnic is a perfect compliment to the equally bright phenomena that are his high-pitched giggles; and like the many days you’ve spent the past year, the only thing that could possibly elevate this moment of serenity would be a bite of his weekly pastry batches.  

Speaking as you chow down on the carbs, you quip, “you mean you look good?” 

“That, too, but I meant us, together—” he articulates, cutting himself off abruptly when he snaps his head to find you digging into one of his many bread “—hey, who said you could start testing without me?!” 

“Too many selfies, too slow, too hungry,” you lean your head back to plop the remainder of the custard-filled bread into your mouth, “shmorry Jin, but dish ish delicious.”

Just as you lean forward and take another large bite out of the batch, Jin catches right up to you, snatching the remainder and plopping it right into his now-stuffed cheeks instead. Lips falling agape at the disappearance of your bite-size donut, you gawk at your best friend whomst chomps happily away with your piece in his mouth. 

You can still recall the heat of your cheeks after the first time he had ever proclaimed something that was yours as his—in fact, it wasn’t much long ago when Jin had nearly regurgitated a mouthful of mocha frappuccino after discovering you had sneaked in a sip or two prior—but now? Sharing commodities has become such second nature to you two that sometimes you wish he could return to his germophobic days just so you can hog all the food…

...and maybe to relive whatever magical flutters that had befallen you on that very first day.

“Of coursh ish delicious!” he manages to exclaim incoherently. “Kim Sheokjin baked it afta all!” 

“Yeah,” you take a long moment to gulp and make room for more food, “I think I prefer the ones with custard—”

“—so it’s a perfect batch just like m—”

“—almost perfect.”

You could see yourself wink through the prideful glint in his eyes quickly plummet into a glare that has you laughing at the downfall of his indestructible ego. His playful glare through the corner of his narrowed eyes silently commences yet another one of your daily staring challenges. Maybe that’s why the two of you made such a perfect pair amongst the thousands of classmates at school. After all, how would Jin ever find someone as tolerant of his incessant dad jokes and perpetual ego as you are? And how would you ever find someone who would bake you goods and cook you lunch and, not to mention, spout such peculiar humor? 

All of your classmates had dubbed the two of you as the perfect comedy duo—the dumb and the dumber, the silly and the sillier—that, apparently, is the essence of a match made in heaven, albeit probably meant to be more platonically than romantically. 

Both too stubborn to lose, even in a meaningless game of a staring contest, not even the heat of the sun rays that has you two nearly sweating bullets could deter the match. Eventually, seconds turn into minutes and minutes turn into a frenzy frozen moment in time as you start to fall into the sudden abyss you found yourself in that is the warmth pool of his eyes. 

Perhaps it’s the angle at which the rays strike theatrically on the apples of his cheeks, illuminating his dewy skin and enhancing the chocolate hues of his orbs hidden underneath the matching brown locks of his all whilst his eyes happen to be staring right back at you. You’ve never quite felt this way before—heart palpitating, throat constricting, and mind panicking—but for the first time ever, you’re hesitant in allowing your best friend to peer through the windows to your soul. 

This isn’t good. What would he do if he were to discover your frenzy? Would he tease you to no ends? 

Worse yet, would he falsely assume that you’re hardcore crushing on him…?

“Oh God,” you blurt out, breaking eye contact to avert your head to the side across the street. Your lips begin to mumble whatever comes first to mind, “uh, wow, look at that couple. Ugh, PDA—” your eyes flicker to find Jin raising a brow just before your eyes avert once again and he follows your line of sight “—am I right?” 

“Oh c’mon! Just admit it,” Jin chides. “You’re only using this to disguise the fact that you were just about to blink, weren’t you?” 

“I was not about to blink,” you insist but your shifty gaze tells the both of you otherwise, even if the true lack of confidence is unbeknownst to Jin. “You suck at staring contests. How many times have I won before? I was just distracted, okay?”

“Oh yeah?” Jin crosses his arms. “Distracted by what, then? Huuuh? By my devastatingly good looks?”

“No!” you exclaim almost too adamantly that you have to add in a nervous laugh at the end, which only has Jin staring at you in utter disbelief. Feigning an apologetic pressed smile, you gesture your hands in the direction of the couple supposedly hidden behind a fence but clearly exposed to those on a hill, otherwise known as you two. “I meant them—”

“—ew!”

The both of you exclaim in unison, selflessly covering the tarnished eyes of the other and ducking away from the moment of intimacy that you two had just intruded on. 

“Aw, cmon! Even after graduation, too?” Jin remarks, mouth gaping and hands falling from your shielded eyes only to be thrown to his side in bewilderment. “Does everyone really have to remind us just how lonely we are even on our last day?” 

“You mean how lonely we are and how lonely we will be for the rest of our lives?”

“For the rest of our lives?” Jin quirks a brow at you before shaking his head and shrugging. “Dang, that wasn’t exactly my plan, because the world will be forced to acknowledge my looks sooner or later, but I mean, in your case…”

“What?!” you gasp in disbelief, slapping his arm hard enough for him to wince. “What do you mean ‘in your case?’ I bet you haven’t even kissed someone yet!” 

Jin snarls at you as he pulls his arm back and retorts, “yeah? And I bet you haven’t either!” 

“Actually, I have, with Joon at that party last year,” you say smugly, crossing your arms with a chin held high, “and you just admitted you haven’t had your first kiss yet.”

“Psh, yeah, I haven’t, and?" the boy holds his head high akin to a child arguing with his body and not with his words. “Because I prefer to save it for something meaningful unlike someone here.” 

“Hey, are you insinuating that it wasn’t meaningful?”

“You’ve always told me how much you hated parties!” he throws his hands up. “Plus, you don’t even like Joon! You said his breath stinks!” 

“Well—” you pause but no words come to you except for a loud grunt “—ugh, fine. You’re right.”

“Of course I’m right,” he turns away, leaning into his right hand with an elbow propped against his crisscrossed lap. “I’m Kim Seokjin, after all.” 

Following suit, you mumble into your propped hand, “I guess that’s why we’re friends in the first place. Together and, yet, still forever alone.”

“Hey, I said I don’t plan on being forever alone.”

“Right, right,” you brush him off, “tell me that when you actually get a girlfriend—actually, tell me that when you find someone to marry who doesn’t run for their life just one month into your relationship.” 

“‘Marry?!’” he gawks at your demand. “I haven’t even had my first kiss yet and you’re talking about marriage?!”

“What?” you turn to face him, cheek resting in hand. “Didn’t you say the world would soon recognize your charms?”

“Hmph, well,” he says with a jutted lower lip, “definitely sooner than you.”

“Really?” you gape at his bold proclamation despite clearly being the one with the upperhand. “You really think you’re gonna get married before me?” 

Your best friend doesn’t even bother glancing at you before answering, “bet.”

“Okay, if you win, then I’ll eat the crust to your breads whenever you want. I’ll even throw in a bonus for you and spare your wife from having to see fetus photos of you in college,” you can only snicker at the lightbulb that goes off in his widened eyes. “And if I win, then you’ll have to eat my crust and delete all the ugly photos you have of me on your phone.”

“Sorry, can’t do. That would take me an eterni—”

“—shut up.” 

“Okay, fine, bet,” he cackles, straightening his back and stretching his arms out before him, “and what if neither of us ever get married?”

“Hm,” you purse your lips, “good point. Should we set a time cap to our bet? Ideally, if I want to have a stable job and income by 25, have children by 30, enjoy two or three years of marriage without kids, then…”

“Why do you have to have children by 30?” Jin frowns. “Why set all these unrealistic standards on yourself?” 

Putting a finger to hush his lips, you almost find yourself distracted by the plush warmth against your skin. Quickly, you answer, “long story short: parents.”

“Ah,” he utters even as your fingers are pressed to his lips, “ditto.” 

“Let’s set the cap to 27,” you propose. “If neither of us get married by the age of 27, then we’ll just call off the bet. But damn—” the two of you simultaneously lean your chins into your palms “—that means we’re really gonna be a disappointment to our parents forever, huh?” 

A loud, heavy sigh escapes the both of you; and while you stay pouting into your hands, staring into the fresh green grass on the downside of the hill off in the distance, Jin props his hands back against the blanket and cranes his neck back to look off into the distant sky. You hadn’t noticed it until now, but for a devilishly dashing guy like Jin—broad shoulders, facial features that could only be gifted, and a prominent Adam’s apple, especially with his head rolled to the back like this—you have to admit his lonely status must have been much more of a choice to Jin than it is for you; because even for someone like you, his best friend who gets to stare at his profile for as long you desire in all its glory, you have yet to become desensitized to his dazzling visuals that is anything but normal.

As much as you hate to admit it, even now, with a clear blue sky, an array of warm pastry aroma, and a field of freshly cut grass, you can’t help but become enamored by the person before you. 

And when another sigh befalls his lips and the two of you have settled into a comfortable silence and a breeze passes by the both of you, rustling a dozen or so of the hovering cherry petals to grace the surrounding air, he speaks. 

“Let’s get married if we’re still single by then.” 

“...huh?”

“I said,” only his eyes move to peer down at you effortlessly, “if we both lose the bet, then let’s get married.”

Your eyes pop and you can only utter the few words that reach you, “to each other?” 

“No, to food,” he says sarcastically, grabbing a piece of his bread and stuffing your face with it when you continue to stare at him and he shuffles awkwardly in place. Looking away, he mumbles, “of course to each other, who else, dummy?”

“Uh….huh,” you blankly nod your head as a series of laughs are stifled by the bread. “Okay, and you’re being serious?”

He doesn’t look at you when he answers, “uhuh.”

“Pffft, and you’re saying you would keep that promise? That you would even remember this moment? We’re just gonna marry? Like that? And you’re assuming I’m just going to agree?”

“Hey,” he turns to frown at you, “why wouldn’t you agree? I’m offering you a once in a lifetime opportunity!”

Munching down on the bread, you continue to play along in amusement, “really? And what exactly are you offering me? You know I have high standards, right? I’m not just going to accept any proposal.”

“I know. That’s why you’re still single…” the boy deadpans, even as you glare at his remark, “...but, that’ll all change when you witness my proposal! Hear me out. First, I’ll cook every meal for you for the entire day.”

“You almost already do that except for breakfast.”

“Okay, but I’ll hone my skills by then. It’ll be even better than any restaurant we’ve ever been to.”

You raise a brow, “so you think food is the way to my heart?”  

“No offence, but yes, that’s why we’re friends,” he quips before continuing, “second, I’ll bring flowers to you at work. Everyone at your job will be burning with jealousy!”

“Because of your public display of affection, which we both clearly disdain?” 

“No, because they would wonder how you have such a handsome boyfriend like me!” he wags his finger. “Plus, who doesn’t like a little PDA when they’re about to be proposed to?” 

“Okay, fair enough, but those are two promises you’re making for the proposal. A marriage is a lifelong commitment. Why would I want to marry you just for food and flowers?”

“Hmmm, even for someone like you, I’m surprised you have so many requirements,” Jin hums, tapping his finger on his chin. “How about this, I’ll make three more promises for our marriage.”

“Quit saying ‘our marriage,’ I keep shuddering at the thought of it,” you remark as you rub your arms. 

“Third promise, I won’t break your achey breaky heart,” he deliberately emphasizes each word in a fruitful attempt to send shivers down your spine. “Fourth promise, I’ll remember all of my promises.”

“Okay… and fifth?”

“I’ll keep all of my promises! And I’ll do it all right here at this spot. Our spot.”

“What? That’s dumb,” you giggle. “Just keep it at four, then.”

“No,” he grabs the bagel in your hands and fills his mouth without a second of hesitation, “ish eashier to wememba fibe promishesh.”

“Right, right, right,” you nod, pressing your lips in a vain attempt to muffle your chuckles. “And what promises would you want me to make?”

“You?” he quirks a brow before shaking his head. “Nothing. You’re fine. I like you just the way you are.”

Huh. Has Jin always been this nice? Because you don’t quite recall ever feeling the heat of an oncoming blush of your cheeks or the bashful flutters that come with your best friend’s witty remarks. Maybe the topic of marriage has thrown you off today or maybe it’s the aftermath of a high having just graduated college and being thrusted into adulthood, but the stretched smile that adorns your lips is an undeniable fact that your confidence and spontaneity has reached its pinnacle.

Grinning, you lean across Jin’s lap to grab and unlock his phone to access the camera, “okay, wanna take a photo to commemorate this moment?”

“Gee, if you want a photo of me that bad, you could just ask me to send you a selfie, y’know—what the,” Jin starts to cackle when you raise the phone into the air and suddenly press your cheeks against his without warning. With a side-finger gun to frame his cheeks and chin, your best friend readies his pose as you wear a mischievous smile. “Hurry up and take the picture already, Y/N. My time is money.” 

“Hey Jin,” you call out to him with your eyes still fixated to the phone screen, as does his. 

The boy almost drags his words, “now what?”

“You’ve never had a girl kiss you on the cheeks before either, right?”

“What—”

—click.

“There,” you chirp jubilantly, grinning at the stunned look on his face, his eyes popping and his lips just slightly parted but failing to utter a single word as his hand grazes the spot on his cheeks where your lips had just touched, “now you have zero excuses to forget our promise!”

❀ ❀ ❀

That must have been the last time you had met up with Jin in person. Shortly after graduation, the two of you had parted ways as many are forced to do in order to embark on their lives as full-fledged adults. Being born with a silver spoon in his mouth, Jin had been lucky enough to receive a job offer straight out of college with the help of family connections; although, even without his family name, you whole-heartedly believe he still would have managed on his own based off of his unparalleled work ethic that you had the chance to witness firsts-handedly. 

On the other hand, your parents had advised you to stay home, which happened to mean you would be stuck in the same town of your college, until you finally landed a decent job where you had met Alex and established a new life. Unfortunately, like life always does, all that busywork meant sacrificing contact with your best friend somewhere along the way.

“Hey, Y/N! Wait!”

“Ah, shit,” you mutter under your breath as you stop in the midst of your tracks down the black-marbled hallway, gritting your teeth and composing yourself just as you’ve done countless times around your less than friendly colleagues. Taking a deep breath in and out, you put on a pleased smile and whirl around to find the face of a familiar boy in your most recent reveries. “Ahh, hey, Jin... It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?”

“Ah,” the man, who seems to have grown at least or three inches since you had last seen him, scratches the back of his head. “I didn’t expect to see you here tonight… how have you been?”

This is awkward. So painfully awkward. 

“Me? Oh, I’ve been alright. Life. Adulting. You know the drill,” you press a thin smile. “Actually, I’m surprised to be seeing you here tonight. I still remember us whining all throughout college over being forever alone, and yet here we are… at your engagement party… life can be funny, huh?” 

“Y—” he stutters, scratching the back of his neck “—yeah… it can be.” 

“So,” you chirp in a fruitless attempt to lift the suffocating atmosphere, “the wedding is coming up pretty soon! Feeling good or is someone getting cold feet?” 

He shakes his head weakly, “I wear socks to sleep.” 

“Wh—” you pause for a quick second, blinking blankly at his soft chuckle and following suit shortly after “—why do your jokes sound like you’re 22 again?” 

The man shrugs with a helpless smile hinted in the corners of his lips; and when it happens—you don’t know how or when the silence had whisked you away into a past time—you find him gazing at you with that fondness of a sole friend who endlessly shared and fought informidable woes with you. Perhaps you’re a hopeless romantic frozen between the fork of two roads that have long closed, for you swear you can see your own reflection through his warm brown eyes and you surmise the only possible answer to the question that lingers in your mind. 

He must see the same friend in you, that girl he would only call friend.

“You’ve been preparing your whole life for this, or, actually, maybe I should say we’ve been preparing,” you smile to stifle the lurching ache in your chest, “I guess I’m the only fool waiting for her turn now.” 

A weep cracks the laugh you force out of your knotted throat. Immediately, you turn your head to avoid his watchful gaze and tuck a lock of hair behind an ear whilst discretely ridding any traces of waterworks welling in your vision. You think you must have gotten away with the feigned laugh and turn, a routine you had mastered at your previous work, but the gradual dissolution of the curve on his lips settles into an unreadable flatline more resembling a frown than anything; because even after all these years, he can still read you like an open book. 

So, if he could see through your every facade even now, then why does he not remember? You know you shouldn’t hold it against him, such a silly promise built on a lonesome pair of naive hearts,  but you can’t help it when a single word paints your conscience. 

Why?

Why can’t he remember? 

Your shared promises, your birthday, your memories, and... you?

“Y/N,” Jin begins gently, hesitating in place once he takes a step forward and you flinch, “about the wedding date…”

He waits for you to reply, supposedly for ‘whenever you were ready’, as he always does during those fragile lows of yours. 

To avoid letting loose any more unneeded drama, you can only manage a hum, “mm?”

“I…” he pauses and sighs. “I know it’s your birthday.”

A hitch in your breath is audible. You clamp your lips tightly and nod, uttering lowly, “yeah.”

“I want you to know I didn’t decide the date, Y/N,” he says firmly, “my father did.” 

“And?” you quip suddenly, eyes darting to shoot a glower deadly enough for him to twitch in evident hurt. There, you went ahead and did it. As hard as you had spent the past months muting your rawest reaction to the envelope in your mailbox, all the pent up frustration and sheer sorrow for a lost future came whiplashing just as hard. “And you couldn’t tell your father to change the date? Maybe one day after? Or two?” 

“You know I would have asked if I could, Y/N,” he bites his tongue to state sternly, “but how would he understand? Change it for… for what—”  he laughs cruelly in the midst of his burst “—for the birthday of a best friend I lost contact with for five whole years?! That’s so… so dumb—” 

“—dumb…?”

The crack in your voice leads to a stagnant silence over what is clearly a no man’s land. Betrayal visibly paints across your face, the momentary display of having wronged his closest ally stains his own. 

“Sorry, I didn’t meant that...”

“‘...yeah, you’re right,” you scoff, “I’m dumb for waiting five whole damn years’ because you wouldn’t fucking text me or call me to ask how I was doing!”

“Me?” he asks in disbelief, gawking and pointing an accusatory finger. “You wouldn’t even pick up your phone! I called you for a month after I moved!” 

“I couldn’t pay for my phone, alright?! I was living with my parents and scrambling to find a job, any fucking low wage job, and I couldn’t sit all day in my room waiting for your calls because I’m not born with a silver spoon stuck in my ass!” 

At this point, the conversation had somehow contorted into an all out brawl of words, a challenge to see who could blame the other for the unsaid confessions lost in communication. The two of you staring down the other, chest heaving and jaws clenching and brows knitting, if it weren’t for your fortunate location tucked in the hallway hidden from the main room, you would not have allowed yourself to fall, lost somewhere in the depth of his eyes. 

“Why are you so upset?” a weak, hopeless laugh tumbles from his confused, pained expression. “Aren’t you supposed to be happy for me?” 

“I—” something gets caught in your throat and you have to choke it out “—I am. I am happy for you. I’m not upset, no…”

Jin reaches a hand out to your cheek when he notices your tears but immediately retracts his notion when you flinch backwards. The boy frowns in concern, “Y/N… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell. How did I upset you?”

“Nothing,” you frantically shake your head that hangs low, using the back of your hands to smear every sign of contradiction on your face. “I just—” your breath shakes and an impending series of hiccups begins to kick in “—I’m silly. I should be happy for my best friend. I mean, I am happy. I’m just being dumb.” 

“What?” Jin carefully takes a step forward. “No you’re not—”

“—I’m dumb, okay, Jin?” you finally muster the courage to lift your sights to find his own confused ones. “It’s been five whole years and I’m embarrassed for taking a joke of a promise so seriously when my best friend doesn’t even remember making it!” 

The scrunch in his brows and lost resolution only reverberate the deafening ache in your chest. “The promises…? Y/N, I—”

“—it’s fine,” you blurt. Shaking your head and stumbling backwards, you look him straight in the eyes to say your last words before the fading knocks of your heels against the wood are all that he hears. “It's my fault for believing in a foolish fairytale anyways.”

❀ ❀ ❀

It’s almost like a fever dream when you recall just how confidently you had spat those spiteful words and furthermore dared to depart with that sheer satisfaction and the slightest aftertaste of alcohol residing on your tongue that night; but now that you’re awake, sober, and without the power of liquor, there’s nothing that can pull you out of your greatest nightmare most recently manifested into reality. 

“Why the hell did I do that? Why the hell did I do that? Why the hell did I do that?” 

The incessant grumbles tumble freely from your lips whilst you pace back and forth in the corner of the office. Typically, your colleagues would describe you as composed, reserved, and the level-headed half of an otherwise wild pair with Alex. This morning, however, they begin to question everything they’ve ever known about you as they watch through the corner of their averting eyes. 

“I knew I shouldn’t have left you alone!” Alex hisses under her breath along with the threatening glares she shoots at the audience. Considering how long you’ve been going at your mental breakdown, it doesn’t take very long for your shuffling footsteps and mumbling gibberish to transcend into yet another white noise in the office; and once the majority of the passersby settle on the new revelation of your hidden crazed nature, Alex hastily storms to your side as you begin banging your head against the wall. “Why would you throw a tantrum at your best friend’s engagement party?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying…” you pause momentarily to groan before proceeding to damage whatever is left of your seemingly deteriorating brain. “Why the hell did I do that? Why the hell did I do—”

“—not to mention, an ex best friend who never even knew about your unrequited feelings—”

—she comes to an abrupt stop when she finds the deadliest scowl in your dart-like eyes. No words are exchanged but the lethal consequences are clear enough to grant you her silence and the continuance of your destruction. 

“Why the hell did I do that, Alex?” you whimper, taking a break from your antics because, damn, your forehead is really starting to hurt. “Whyyyyyyy did you have to leave me alone? Maybe Jin wouldn’t have found me and I wouldn’t have had to confront him over something that shouldn’t even matter anymore! I-I barely even know him… it’s been five years and, suddenly, here I am, voila! At his engagement banquet, yelling in his face and getting mad over feelings that aren’t even his fault!” 

“I told you to go easy on the alcohol.”

“I told you to go easy on the alcohol,” you retort. Taking a deep breath, you let out a sigh along with the scowl plastered across your face. Your next words come out more as a helpless confession of fear than a rhetorical question to be answered. “Do you think he… hates me…?”

Alex observes you for a lingering second, perhaps contemplating between a merciful albeit exacerbating answer and a merciless albeit helpful answer. She speaks carefully, treading dangerous water, “well… would you like him to?”

“I don’t know,” you shut your eyes to heave yet another sigh because that weight in your chest refuses to leave you alone. An unapologetic swinging of the door and a series of loud, wide strided footsteps that follow have your brows furrowing and it takes everything in you and Alex, judging by the sudden shuffles you hear by your side, to finish the rare heart-to-heart conversation. “I think… I think if he hated me, maybe that would extinguish that part of me from the past. If he hated me, I would be able to get over it. Maybe I would hate him too, out of spite, but at least I would be able to get over—””

“—it…? Over what, Y/N?”

Over what? It takes you much longer than it should have for you to surmise the most probable answer to her question, an answer you were never willing to admit and an answer you aren’t quite sure you’re ready to admit even now. 

“You know what I’m implying, Alex,” you sigh, shutting your eyes even tighter when a rising heat marks your cheeks. “I want to get over—”

—but your words are cut short by a familiar voice that has your heart racing and striking an unprecedented strife in the mayhem that is your systemic state...

“You can’t possibly hate me, Y/N,” he proudly proclaims and you can practically hear him smiling, “no one ever hates Kim Seokjin.” 

...and when your eyes finally flutter open, you find the man, who had only seemed like a phenomenon of your feverish dream a second ago, standing before you and adorning that signature smile with raised cheek apples and crescent-like eyes that has yet to change under the influence of time and distance. 

“W-What are you doing here…?” you barely manage to utter. Eyes flickering around your surroundings, from Jin’s broad shoulders that shield nearly the entirety of a helpless albeit buoyant Alex, to your colleagues who fail to discreetly whisper over the lavishly suited mystery of a man, and finally back to the bouquet of pastel flowers wrapped with a bright pink bow. Brows furrowing, you struggle to organize your thoughts and even go so far as to check for the dent in your reddish forehead in a vain attempt to dispel the mind tricks. When the mirage before you fails to dissipate into thin air like sand, you slowly turn to face the wall again only to have your antics disrupted by his refreshingly cold hand on your burning forehead ; and when you turn, you find Jin’s mischievous smile growing wider by the second. “H-how do you know where I work…?”

“I’m your best friend, Y/N. Have you somehow forgotten after all that head banging?” Jin scoffs in disbelief, gawking with a chuckle. Suddenly, he leans in to grab your right hand firmly in his own, squeezing twice as he had always done and leading you toward the exit. “C’mon, let’s go recover those memories of yours, eh?” 

“Wait, wait,” you nearly stumble over your own feet at the pace he’s going, struggling to catch your breath when he bursts through the last door and a blast of freezing wind envelops the clash of the heat reverberating from your beating heart. “I have to go back! I still have work! And, and… and where in the world are you even taking me?” 

“Tsk, tsk, tsk, Y/N, so many dumb questions for someone who always topped my grades,” the boy holds the bouquet of flowers out toward you, refusing to continue until you reluctantly accept his gift with your left hand against your chest. Smiling at your reluctant acceptance, Jin turns his back on you and proceeds to march into the parking lot but his now warm hands intertwined with your now cold hands never loosens its grip. 

It’s been a long five years of waiting to finally relish in the hold of his familiarly slim, often teased albeit self-praised double-jointed hands, but, now that you’re finally living in it, you’re sure it was all worth it… even if the crashing flames at the end of this road is an inevitable, foreseeable future.

“Jin,” you frown as you stare at Jin’s opening of the car door and gesture of an invitation, reluctantly seating yourself in his sumptuous car. “I failed half of my exams... remember?”

The boy’s laughs can still be heard even through the closed door as he makes his way around the car front, all whilst swinging the keys in his forefinger. His cackling steps an abrupt many levels of decibels higher when the opposing door opens and he plops into the driver seat. “That never stopped you from boasting, did it?” 

Without the flare of your usual clever quips, you purse your lips in silence and subconsciously hug the bouquet closer to your chest to keep his space as unoccupied by your presence. The sudden turn of events has your head spinning and your heart racing enough for the thumps to be felt by your hands. 

How did he find out where you worked? Where was he even taking you and what was he planning to do with you? Why was he acting as if you had not angered him just two nights ago? 

You don’t think you’ll be getting the answer any time soon, particularly the latter question, but when your stomach growls loudly, eliciting a crackle of a laugh from Jin, the awkward tension in your muscles eases ever so slightly. 

“...s-sorry… I skipped breakfast.”

“I know,” he puts the car into neutral at the red light and turns to peer at you with a smug look that says he could still read you like an open book, “because you always skip breakfast. I hid some pastry in the bouquet.” 

“What?” you scrunch your nose but immediately dive your scavenging hands into the flowers; and sure enough, you find your favorite cream-filled bread of his warm in your hands and you can’t stifle the smile that spreads on your lips. “Why would you even do that?”

“Well, in case you suddenly got really jacked and physically refused to come with me, then at least you would have something to eat.”

“No,” you giggle, “I meant why would you hide the bread in the bouquet…”

His eyes brighten like a lightbulb, as if only now recalling the genius plan he had crafted himself, “oh, because then you can sneak a bite without having to leave your desk! It always worked with our backpacks, didn’t it?” 

Your sights fall to the bouquet and you can only reply with a sheepish grin, “right… it sure did.”

The engine purrs to life again when the light turns green and the remainder of the car ride is filled with the smooth drift of his ride and the ceaseless albeit completely welcomed humming from his lips. The old Jin never had enough of an incentive to drive, although his parents always suggested gifting him a brand new car and you had begged him to take the offer out of boredom and a never-ending desire to escape far away from university, but something about this moment in time has you feeling cozy, belonging, and at home. It’s almost like it was meant to be. 

But the silver ring shining around his finger under the angle of the sun is a dreadful reminder that it isn’t. 

So, as a slap to yourself back into reality, you fracture this perfect moment you would have once framed in that hopeless mind of yours, “so… how did you find out where I worked?”

“Ah,” his right hand casually slips onto the back of your headrest. “Still haven’t figured out, rank 292?”

“No, I haven’t, rank 295.” 

“First,” he raises a finger, “I asked some people through the grapevines and eventually your friend Alex gave out.”

Grumbling under your breath, you curse, “damn it, Alex.”

“And second,” he raises another finger before proclaiming firmly, “I’m proving you wrong.” 

“Proving me wrong?” you articulate with a scoff. “You’re going to prove me wrong? Right, keep dreaming.”

“I’m not going to prove you wrong, I am proving you wrong," he insists before shifting the car to neutral and leaning in toward you, gaze brimming with conviction locked with your own wary ones, as if ready to spill a secret sworn by the two of you and hidden from the rest of the universe. 

He's close enough for his minty breath to graze your burning cheeks, to breathe a vigorous life previously unknown by your dull five years. Heart pumping and lungs barely working, daring not to budge for being caught under the sway of his gravitational force, you can hardly catch him when he finally speaks.

"I haven't forgotten, Y/N,” he utters, “I'm a man of my word."

❀ ❀ ❀

Promise one. 

"I'll cook every meal for you for an entire day."

Promise two. 

"I'll bring flowers to you at work."

His unabashed, overly detailed tactic to ask for your hand in marriage still echoes from a time long past. Hopes for those promises were weakened by each passing second but unequivocally unassailed at birth. Eventually, smothered and disheartened, you had been forced to cut ties and confront the reality of broken promises and broken dreams. You had once somehow convinced yourself things would never return to the ways they once were, and, yet, here he is having returned by your side and here you are enraptured by the utter joy in his laughs after all this wavering time. 

It's like a dream come true; and if this indeed all just a nightmarish dream bound to death, you wish you never swore allyship to this alcohol, for now your only wish is for it to succumb you into a deep, long slumber. 

“I toooooooold you I don’t like paaaaasta!” you whine, the drag of your voice manifesting in white puffs in the still chilly spring air. The sudden transition between the warmth of his house to the frozen world outside has you spiraling into a series of trips and stumbles; and as always, your best friend Jin is the only one to hold you up, which is a good thing considering how you would’ve been tumbling into the death trap of a river beneath this bridge. “So whyyyy did you make me pastaaaaaaa? Whyyyyyyy?”

“What? Why’re you blaming me?” he retorts, obviously taking offence. “You always loved pasta! You ate it every single day at uni!” 

“I diiiiid love pasta,” you say through barely parted lips, “but it’s all just… just carbs, carbs, carbssss…” 

“Since when did you care about carbs?” Jin frowns, poking your cheeks that lean against his sturdy arms. “Should I call the police?” 

Your brows furrow and you lift your head to narrow your eyes at him, “what? Why?” 

And as soon as those words slip from your lips and he raises his finger-gun hands, you wish you hadn’t asked in the first place. 

“Because I think you’re an impasta,” his finger guns transform into jazz hands after you stare at him in dumbfounded silence, “...badumtsss….”

A series of empty blinks are exchanged, as if neither of you had just witnessed his most tragic dad joke to date; and so, you swiftly continue with a sigh, “I think… I think I started caring ever since heee mentioned I was getting fat.”

“I can’t believe you just ignored my unprecedented joke…” he grumbles to himself but lets out a little huff when he catches you from tipping over. Wordlessly, he hooks his arm with yours to keep you close to him. “And this ‘he’ you mention, who’s he?” 

“Heee.” 

“Who? Who’s ‘heeee’?” he spouts with pouty lips and a raised chin, flailings his body, and therefore yours, about every which way like a toddler. “Who’s this man I have to beat up, huh? He better square up!”

“I don’t think you could beat him up…” you mumble, eyes heavy but determined enough to reach his own flabbergasted ones. “It’s Jooooon, dummy, Kim-Nam-Joon, the boy I shared my first kiiiiss with…”

“Kim Namjoon?!” his eyes widen. “You think I wouldn’t be able to beat up that nerd?!”

You almost manage to push Jin away the foot of the bridge if it weren’t for his firm lock around you. “Have you seen his muscles?! He might not look like it with his books and all but he worked out all the time!”

“Yeah, well,” his lips sputter, “well, have you seen my muscles?!”

“No—” you freeze when you realize the sturdiness of his arm against your head is existing proof against your word, and maybe it’s because of his obvious flexing at this moment, but you could not believe just how built his arms had grown in the past five years, “—and I don’t want to.” 

“Hah! You just don’t want to admit that I’m right. C’mon, I’ll show you. You feel it, huh? You feel it?” he flexes persistently, twisting and turning to maximize his little showcase. “So? You think I can beat him up now?” 

“Well…” your voice trails off, mind clearly preoccupied with sticking your cheeks to his arm like glue in a somewhat fruitful attempt to hide the flush in your face. “You don’t really need to beat him up…”

“What?” he almost yells. “Why not? He called you fat!”

“Well, he…” your shoulders rise with each confession, “he said one of my dresses looked tight on me…”

“And?”

“...and he wasn’t exactly wrong…”

“So?”

“...so he didn’t actually say anything offhandedly…”

“What? You should’ve told me earlier!” Jin exclaims, arms thrown high into the air and consequently pushing your helpless self onto the hillside grass beside the run of the river. Lips gaping and eyes popping, you watch him in full offense as he mumbles to himself before resuming his stroll down the hill. “And here I am getting worked up over nothing… can’t believe I thought I could play hero for once…”

“Hey, Jin, what do you mean by that?” you call out to him. “Wait! I said wait for me, Jin!”

When your rhetorical questions are answered with silence, you hasten to your feet in order to catch up with those damn wide strides of his. Damn it, how did he make it halfway down the hill already? Each of your exclamations are unsurprisingly disobeyed by the boy who just throws his head back over his shoulder with that cheeky grin of his as he quickened his pace. Following suit, your strides turn into a jog and your jogs turn into a full out sprint until the both of you are full on running the 100 meters dash, one chasing and one fleeing, wind blowing refreshingly into your heated face and into your tangled locks and inflated lungs that relish in the breath of life. 

In the midst of all the chaotic bliss of an epiphany, you find yourself screaming and laughing at the top of your lungs...

“Hey! Jin! I swear I”m gonna kick your ass!”

...and it’s at this moment in time that you realize having forgotten what it means to be a fool who lived and not to live to be a fool. 

At some point in time, after having caught up to the knucklehead and giving a piece of your mind, the two of you settle down along the concrete ledge beside the river after a jittery, welcomed high. The sunset that followed was a pleasant surprise that had you two reminiscing over the countless mornings and evenings you had spent watching the sun rise and set together whilst churning throughout tireless exam nights. Pink, golden streaks now hidden behind a thick coating of midnight blue embellished by magical glitters all throughout, tonight’s stargazing becomes a first for the two of you. 

As much as you hoped you could numb yourself from the inevitable aftereffects of this death wish of a dreamy day, you can’t help but smile, thankful to have been completely sober to engrave this night into memory. 

“So...” Jin’s utter is the first to break the silence. He turns his head to give you a playful look of eyes that beams with wary curiosity, “...you started dating Namjoon after I left?”

“Mm… maybe,” you hum, “why? Got a problem with that?”

“What? Psh, what? Why would I have a problem with that?” he snorts. “The only problem I would have is the fact that you never asked me for permission.”

Your eyes widen, almost threateningly, “are you saying I need permission from a man to date another man? Not to mention a man who abandoned me without warning!” 

“Okay, first of all, it’s not my fault you cancelled your phone plan! I called and called, I tried everything I could even though I was deadbeat tired every day. It’s not my fault I thought you hated my guts! So please just understand that I didn’t abandon you, alright?” he spills in an endless stream akin to a water faucet left on the highest setting, clearly a performance either practiced in private or incited by years of pent up pressure. You can practically see the steam shooting out of his fiery red ears and the accompanying whistle manifesting into words; and by the time his chest is heaving, his lungs are panting and very dramatically so, and his eyes flicker nervously between you and the passing water, you can’t help but snicker. Unsurprisingly, your lack of empathy elicits an unamused look on his face. “Hey, hey, what’re you laughing at, huh?” 

“Me? Oh, nothing,” your hands move into your laps and you bat your eyes innocently, “it’s just that I can’t believe you’re blaming me, a helpless, poor girl with absolutely no connections, for cancelling her phone plan as a last resort to make ends meet.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” he warns with an accusatory finger, “don’t you dare think I’ll fall for that eye blinking and whatever cute act you’re playing up again!” 

“Why?” you pout, almost cringing at your own antics. “Am I not cute?”

“No, you’re hurting my eyes. Plus, if anyone’s cute here,” he declares adamantly before puffing his cheeks and poking one with his forefinger, “it’s me.”

The both of you stare at the other for a stagnant few seconds, one completely dedicated to his performance and the other utterly flabbergasted by what plays out before her. 

The only word you manage to crank out is a, “uh…”

“What do you think?” he raises another finger to poke his other cheek. “I practiced just for you.” 

“Um… you’re 27 now, Jin.”

“So?” he tilts his head in the other direction. “Still 22 and young at heart.”

“Yeah? Then I’m still 22 and still equally disgusted by aegyo—” just as he parts his lips to provide another rebuttal, you quickly add in “—by your aegyo.” 

And just like that, the man drops his boyish character just as quickly as he had stepped into it. He mumbles, dropping his hands and shooting an equivocate look at you, “okay, tough crowd. Sorry, ma’am.”

It shouldn’t have been that hilarious nor should your response been so delayed, but it only takes a split second of his surrender for a thunderous cackle to slip from your lips. Throwing your head back and peering at the dangling stars above, you allow yourself a moment to close your eyes and take a deep breath of the incoming wind. The fresh petrichor of spring and the earthiness of mowed grass whisks themselves into the cold, clean breeze from the vast body of water. Thin locks of hair grazes across your cheeks, swaying in the wind as does your spirit. Years are lifted from your shoulders and all that is left is the heaviness that remains in your chest; nevertheless, you have never felt so free from the past. 

“Also,” he adds nonchalantly, cocking his head to look at you, “I wasn’t speaking from the position of a man. I was speaking as a best friend. As your best friend.” 

And just like that, sitting side by side and sharing a cool breeze, it’s almost as if all these moments of remorse, spilled tears, and unreleased frustration were made to build the climax to this grand finale: the night you can finally speak your truth. 

“It’s funny how things never change, huh?” you say when your eyes flutter open and you find Jin looking over with a fondness identical to the one you’ve spotted years before. “We can split for five years, thinking one hates the other’s guts, and reunite again as best friends… as if nothing had ever happened.”

Jin chuckles, hands grabbing to the ledge and head lolling back to join you but his eyes remain fixated on you, “I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not. Are we vampires and we just don’t know it?”

“Yeah, well, I’m not sure either… not sure about the good thing and not the vampire thing, that is,” your laugh settles into silence when you spot the reflected light inflicted by the ring around his finger, sitting on the ledge just an inch away from yours. Close enough to touch but far enough to confirm an unequivocal truth. Sighing, you turn your head to meet his intent gaze with a bittersweet upturn to your lips, “normally, I really despise the idea of change; but lately, when I think about how things might never change between us, how we’ll always banter as a pair of stupid best friends, I start wanting it more than ever.”

Is this the moment? Is it all really happening right now? Judging by the course of your blithe actions, if change is what you’re looking for, then change is what will surely ensue after tonight. Whether for the good or for the worse, you’ll take a reluctant guess of the latter. 

The man scrunches his brows before playing it off with a nervous laugh, “what do you mean things haven’t changed? You dated Namjoon, probably got it on a few times here or there—”

“—what—”

“—please don’t confirm,” he butts in with a raised hand, “and I have, too. Sure things have changed!”

“Ooh?” you raise a brow, genuinely shocked. “You finally got some experience under your belt? I’m impressed, Mr. Kim.”

“Hey,” he scolds, “what do you mean by ‘impressed?’” 

“Well, I should’ve known… figuring you’re about to be a married man and all…” you mumble, forcing a smile despite the sudden dip in your mood. Turning your head to stare off into the opposite end of the river where the black silhouette of skyscrapers lie, you curse yourself mentally. You really thought you could get away with the inevitable truth for the entire day? “You know, I can’t believe I almost forgot that you’re getting married in less than a week. Almost like how I couldn’t believe you almost forgot our promises.”

“I told you Kim Seokjin is a man of his words.”

“You sure about that? Promise one: cook for me for an entire day. Check. Promise two: gift me flowers at work. Check,” you turn around once again to look him firmly in the eyes and it’s almost as if the both of you know what’s about to come next. “What about the three other promises, Kim Seokjin?” 

“Y/N…” his voice trails off but his gaze never leaves yours, almost as if too afraid to be misconstrued as another betrayal. 

Quick-mindedly, you chime, “stop looking at me so seriously! I’m just joking! Promise three: you won’t break my heart. How could you after a wonderful day like this? Promise four: you won’t forget our promises. Clearly, you remember. And promise five: you’ll keep all your promises. Check.”

“Y/N,” he stifles every wince but you can tell by the way his feet have stopped kicking into the void. “I don’t think I’ve kept all those promises.” 

“Well,” you shrug, pressing your lips into a line tightly, “I only see checks in my book, Jin. You’re good to go—”

“—no, Y/N, you need to listen to me,” he says sternly; and when your mouth falls agape and your head slightly nods, his wary eyes searching for a steady sign in the windows to your soul, he continues calmly, “my marriage is actually an arranged marriage.”

“Your—” you blink blankly, jaw almost falling to the floor “—your, you, what?”

An arranged marriage. 

All this time, all this pain, all this heartbreak of wanting to do something about your feelings but remaining hopeless because of an unrequited love… turns out to be an active, fully conscious decision? Not a falling out of love, not a helpless affection for another woman, but a matchmaking handcrafted without the heavens?

“My,” he has to stop himself just as his breath hitches, “my father... arranged it. ” 

“What? Why? Is it because he prefers you with a well off family?” 

“What? No,” he shakes his head with a slight upcurve to his lips that you’ve never quite seen before. Watching him hook a hand to the nape of his neck, clearly avoiding your eyes, you have an inkling of something much worse than the presented news. “You know my father would never do that… it has nothing to do with money...”  

“But you left this town for money, didn’t you? For a better job, a better pay, a better life, and for the sake of your dignity as a dutiful son, are you telling me none of those were related to money?” 

His eye twitches by your name-calling, clearly pained once again despite knowing very well of your precedent dislike toward his silver spoon background and his nonnegotiable obedience. Each second of silence culminates a tension even more formidable than the last. Guilt intoxicates your boiling blood enough for you to bite your tongue and hold yourself back; because after accusing him of holding onto his dignity, you, yourself, could not forfeit that of your own either. 

Worse yet, you’re a complete hypocrite. 

“Why can’t you just tell him to call it off?” 

You never knew silence could be so deafening.

“So… so do you...” you begin hesitantly. Usually, with your eyes locked with his, a thousand words would have been exchanged with each passing second; but now, with gazes that wade through the tides of the unknown, for the first time ever, you don’t recognize the mystery before you. “Do you... love her?” 

His lips part slowly, but no time in the world would be enough for him to find the right words. To you, his silence is as clear as any possible answer. Something sinks in you, perhaps after acknowledging the implications behind his choice to leave your question unanswered, but your blood boils from the audacity of those apologetic eyes that, even now, never stray from yours… as if this minute of sincerity would be enough to mend the inevitable decade of scars. 

You begin slowly, failing to hide the shakiness of your deep breaths, “...then what about the baby?”

“What baby...?” his face contorts with a frown until, out of the blue, something flickers across his numerous expressions: confusion, remembrance, contemplation. His hesitation that ensues might have been fleeting but its infliction upon your shattered trust will surely remain. “Oh, that… that was just a rumor my aunt spread because of the sudden marriage.” 

“And,” you force yourself to breathe, scattering for something, anything to throw at him, “and you don’t think you could’ve told me sooner?”

The man scrunches his brows, “and that would’ve helped, how?” 

“‘How?’” you repeat, as if it was the dumbest question you had ever heard. Mirroring his expression, your eyes avert between him and the river as scoffs of utter disbelief escape you. “‘How?’ What do you mean ‘how?’”

“I mean exactly that!” his voice suddenly escalates to a level of frustration you’ve never quite heard from him before. “How would it have changed anything? Why would you need to know earlier?”

Gawking, you exasperate desperately, “you know why!” 

“No, I might be your best friend but don’t expect me to just read your mind!”

“It’s cause...” you swing your leg over the ledge to face the sidewalk with your back on Jin as soon as you could feel an incoming constriction at the back of your throat, a notorious sign shared just between the two of you that waterworks were about to appear. Breathing slowly and doing just about everything to keep your voice from shaking, and fruitlessly so, you mumble before standing to your feet, “...you know what? I don’t even know anymore. I’m sorry. Nevermind.”

Why did you ever think you would have a chance? 

Is this it? Is this really it? The end? 

The questions come crashing into you as you make your retreat, head hanging low and palms drying the inconvenient tears that mark your face. After all the confidence you had built up, after finally thinking—actually, believing—you could get over him tonight, how humiliating is it that you’re now running away from a reality that would eventually and inevitably engulf you? 

The worst part of it is, Jin, like the best friend and good man that he is, persists to chase after you. You don’t have to hear the quickened footsteps of his usual wide, well-paced strides to know he’s coming. You don’t have to hear the calls he makes on the top of his lungs for you to know he’s on his way. 

As someone who so helplessly fell in love with their best friend, you just know he would be there through thick and thin—whether you like it or not. 

“Y/N!” Jin hollers; and when he finally catches up to you, having to sprint and consequently inciting for you to surrender with an abrupt stop to your path, every bit of air is knocked from your lungs. Arms wrapping over your waist and enveloping you into a tight hug, you can feel his heart pounding against your back. 

To most, it should have been the perfect method to comfort a crying friend; so, damn it, why does it only make you cry harder? 

“What?” your voice cracks as you just barely manage to smear the following tears within the wrap of his bear hug. “Damn it, Jin, why can’t you leave me alone for once?”

Head resting on yours, his voice is muffled by your hair as he murmurs, “I can’t just leave my best friend crying like that. I shouldn’t have yelled. I’m sorry.” 

He embraces you. He embraces you not only physically through the silence but also through the emotional rollercoaster that comes with it. He, Kim Seokjin, your best friend, holds you through the ups and downs and the rights and the wrongs. He even holds you now, comforting you in the hurricane that you brewed without ever knowing and never caring that he had, in fact, not committed any wrongdoing. If anything, you must be in the wrong. 

And when you put it that way, how could you blame yourself for falling in love with him?

“Jin… I’m sorry, I tried everything to stop myself but,” your voice shakes but your courage prospers, “but I just, I just really, really love you.” 

A second passes. 

Now, two. 

Then, three. 

Something strikes against your chest when the surreality of the situation settles into reality. His silence could mean many things, but the tightening of his embrace could only mean one. Blood flushes your cheeks as you lament over his sensation of your fervent heartbeats. Secrets thrown out into the spring air, your heated cheeks are equally exposed to the passing, chilly zephyr. 

He knows you love him. At this moment, he can physically feel the proof of your love and there’s nothing he can do about it. 

“Sorry,” you manage to blurt under your breath, “I shouldn’t have said anything. Forget I said—”

—the remaining words dissipate into thin air when he places his hands firmly on your shoulder and whirls you around. Face just inches away from his, you barely catch wind of his declaration before the unthinkable occurs…

“Too late. I don’t want to.”

...and his lips meet yours. 

It’s everything you have ever imagined. Years of admiring those plush lips, wondering what it would be like to feel the warmth of those wonders pressed against yours, are finally coming to fruition… except they don’t. His hands fall from your shoulders to the small of your back, but your hands don’t intertwine behind the back of his neck like you imagined. Instead, they hover in midair, hesitant to embrace him in your arms. Why? With your eyes and his fluttered closed and an audible deep sigh that signals a desire finally satisfied from the both of you, reality still manages to twist a dream-come-true. 

Does he actually love you or does he only pity you?

Finally, and ever so suddenly, your hands firmly push against his chest to plant an arm’s distance from you and him.

“Sorry…” you pant, avoiding those intense eyes. “We… we can’t do this.” 

“What?” Jin raises a brow, taking a step forward as you take one back. “Why not?”

Wordlessly, you point at his ring finger.

“Oh,” he chuckles nervously, hand scratching the back of his neck. You can only watch his every move, your stare gradually becoming a glare. Rosy hues coloring his cheeks, he speaks sheepishly, “I forgot we’re in public.”

His nonchalance irks you to your core. There isn’t any other way to put it. Blithe and dense have always been your favorite traits of his, but now that he’s here? Planting buds he could never sustain and sending mixed signals despite knowing of your feelings in an unfitting circumstance were never things you knew Jin for.  

“I-I don’t get it, Jin,” you shake your head. “I don’t think we should see each other any more. In any context. Not even after the wedding.” 

With his hands buried into his pockets and shoulders high enough to hide his reddened ears, he glances up at you, alert. “What? Why? What don’t you get?”

“It’s ‘cause... I just don’t get… this. I don’t get us,” you articulate, struggling to find the right words. “Why are you so… nonchalant about this? Why are you kissing me? Is it out of pity? Is it because I said I liked you—”

“—Y/N,” he says lowly like the drop of his previously cheerful mien, “you know I would never do something like that.” 

“Then why?! Why are you doing this to me? Do you love her or not?” you pause for a second to stifle the crack in your voice but, alas, all is in vain. “...and do you even… love me?”

He frowns, the tension in his body evident by the knitting of his brows as he struggles, “I… Y/N...”

“So you can’t admit that you love her and you can’t even lie to say you love me. So why the hell are you throwing away an entire marriage just to kiss me?” your scoff comes out more so like a plea. “You’re confusing me, Jin—”

“—that’s,” he abruptly pauses to stop himself from exploding, taking a deep breath before continuing, “that’s exactly why I can’t say it, Y/N! I don’t want to confuse you. I don’t want to disappoint my father. I-I don’t want to complicate matters more!”

“Then why the hell did you kiss me?!”

“I don’t know, okay?!” he throws his hands in the air. “I don’t know! It was a spur of the moment! I couldn’t stop myself from chasing after you and when I hugged you—I-I just wanted to, alright? I’m sorry.”

He’s... sorry. 

Sorry for kissing you, sorry for acting as if your feelings had been reciprocated, sorry for breaking all the promises he made and pretending like he was going to patch things up again tonight. Speaking your mind and hearing his words are all that you need to finally understand what you need to do. Your heart drops but you hold your head high because your final verdict is the right thing to do. Maybe this time you’ll finally be able to cease these useless feelings. What's the point in pursuing a hopeless love? 

The only one you would be hurting is yourself. 

This epiphany, in itself, is enough to drape an ephemeral clarity over your frenzic self; and just like a bandaid over a scar, you’re able to function, if only just temporarily.

“Hey, Jin?” you call out softly to the boy kicking at nothing on the bare sidewalk. It’s hard not to melt under the delicate glance he throws over his shoulder. “I’m not… mad. Well, I kind of am. But that doesn’t change the fact that I’m sorry for everything that I said about your upbringing. I know how close you are to your family. I’m sure you’ve been under a lot of pressure…”

“No, Y/N,” he shakes his head, turning his body to face you with a low hanging head, “it’s my fault. Even considering all that, I still shouldn’t have done that or any of this. I… I’m sorry for confusing you.”

Forcing a composed smile, you persevere, “do you have your fiance’s number?”

Head lifting with a frown, he answers, “yeah, what kind of a fiance would I be if I didn’t? Why though?”

“Right,” you say to yourself under your breath, hearing his ‘fiance’ echo relentlessly in your head. “I just need it, okay? To… to sort out everything...”

And just when you wonder how insensitive could this boy get...

“What?” he chuckles. “Are you going to fight for me?”

...it gets worse.

Rolling your eyes, you give him a hard, well-deserved slap against the chest before snickering at his loud wince and declaring your one last confession of the night. 

“No, I could fight for us, but I won’t singlehandedly fight for you,” you then declare with a bitter smile, “I will, however, tell her how jealous I am.”

And that's your most irrefutable confession, one that has Jin stupefied for the future midnights to come.

❀ ❀ ❀

Morning arrives much sooner than you had anticipated. White puffs mark the air whilst you wrap yet another layer of scarf around your neck. It seems as though the breeze from a night ago had intentionally danced around town, lingering and spectating on the resolution of your five year long love conundrum. Ironically enough, the two of you reunite at the very spot where everything had first started… except this time, everything will finally end.

The pain he had marked in you inflicted by the words he could not bring himself to say still stains your every waking second.

“You have to do this. You can do this,” you incessantly chant to yourself, pacing back and forth beside the most prominent cherry blossom tree in town. “You have to do this. You can do this—”

“—Y/N, is that you?”

What you presume to be Youngji’s voice perks your ears. Looking up, you spot her holding a phone in her hands as she flickers between you and her screen. A quizzical quirk of the brow plasters across your face as you wave at her and she jogs over to you as quickly as she could in that pink, wool poncho and those tan, fluffy boots. “Hey, Youngji, right?” 

“Yeah,” she says in between each pant of breath, “that’s me.” 

Her hands immediately find refuge on her knees whilst she bends over to catch her breath. Typically, you’re the very self-aware type, but there isn’t anything you could do to stop yourself from staring. The girl strikes you as… flamboyant. With her dark red pigtails, bright smile, and dainty attire, she’s everything you’ve always imagined a female version of Jin would be like. It’s hard not to wonder… maybe an arranged marriage really can be a match made in heaven, but you force yourself out of that rabbit hole before having another breakdown in front of an innocent stranger. 

The tang of jealousy, however, refuses to budge. 

“Sorry, for,” she pants, holding her hand up to show you her phone screen, “calling out to you like that.”

“No, it’s fine,” you squint at the sight of the screen displaying a candid photo of you, taken on this very street on that very day, as you stuffed one of his breads in your mouth. Drawn on your face is a mustache and a unibrow. “Did Jin do—”

“—Jin gave me a terrible reference photo.” 

Scoffing, you cross your arms, “damn it, Jin.”

Youngji crackles into a firework of uncontrollable laughter, rendering you stupefied. After a literal minute passes by, she finally manages to speak in between the bursts of giggles that follow, “you two—” giggle “—really are—” giggle “—close, huh?” And as a grand finale, she slaps her stomach with a loud sigh of relief that her laughs have come to an end. When she notices you staring at her bewilderedly, a light bulb flashes through her as she gasps and feigns a whimper, “o-oh! Ow! M-my baby!”

“You know you don’t have to pretend, right?” you can only let out a laugh of disbelief because you still can’t take in the mirror image your best friend. “Jin already told me about the fake pregnancy.” 

“Oh, in that case,” she smiles widely before giving her stomach one more big, satisfying slap, “see, you guys really are so close!” 

“I… I guess. I’m not sure if taking me out for one day after five years of radio silence really counts as close, though,” you then quickly add in with raised hands, “he only did so out of obligation, though! I swear it was nothing more!”

“Hmmm?” she hums, leaning in a curious ear with a cheshire-like smile. “Is it because of those promises he made?”

“...yeah, wait, he told you about those?” 

Of course he did, idiot, they’re engaged. 

“Well, something like that,” she shrugs, “so how much did he tell you?”

“About?” 

“About the wedding, silly!” 

“Uh, nothing much really. The pregnancy was a false rumor, the marriage was arranged by his father…”

“Father?” she inquires, watching you closely with those big, round eyeballs of hers. 

“Yes?” you hesitantly nod. “Father?” 

“Ah,” she nods, as if she finally catches drift of something, “I see.” 

“Oh yeah,” you add, “I also found out it’s on my birthday.”

“What?!” her eyes grow wider, if they even possibly can. “Jin never told me that! What the heck, man? A wedding? On his best friend’s birthday?!” 

“Yeah, yeah, I know right?” you nod passively before coming to an abrupt stop. “Wait, what? Why does it matter to you?”

“Of course it matters to me! You’re Jin’s best friend, aren’t you? You have no idea how much he talks about you back home. I know you so well that sometimes I feel like you might be my best friend,” she chimes before reaching out to cup your hands in hers. “Let’s celebrate properly with Jin after the wedding, okay?” 

“Um, sure…”

But you don’t exactly plan on unnecessarily sticking around his life for any longer than the wedding… except, seeing how close she must be with Jin in addition to her loose-lip impression, you decide not to tell her that. 

“So,” she drops her hands to the side, “what did you need to tell me?” 

Why did you call her to meet you here again? After witnessing her flamboyant entrance, it’s hard for you to keep yourself from derailing. 

“Oh, um,” you scratch the back of your head awkwardly, “I just wanted to meet my best friend’s fiance, that’s all.”

“Ahhh, I see.”

The woman pauses, nodding at you intently almost as if waiting for the real intentions to be revealed. Damn it, either you’re a literal open book or she reincarnated from the same soul as Jin’s. 

“So…” you purse your lips. “Are you okay with it? The arranged marriage, I mean?” 

“Well,” she shrugs, finally dropping the smile from her lips. “At first I hated the thought of it. I felt like I didn’t really have a choice, but… when I met Jin—” a smile is hinted in the corner of her lips and in the sparkle of her eyes “—I thought ‘I’m pretty lucky girl, aren’t I?’ I think the world must have finally taken pity on me.”

A soft, stifled laugh slips from you as your eyes fall to the ground and a bittersweet smile accompanies your lips, “yeah, you’re pretty lucky.” 

“Don’t get me wrong though,” your eyes immediately shoot up to find her raising defensive hands, “it wasn’t some sort of a love at first sight. He’s handsome, sure, but—”

“—a marriage is a lifelong commitment—”

“—exactly,” she sighs, “I didn’t really know him, but when I was forced to spend time with him… I thought if I had to get married, then he would be the best option. He’s not a bad guy.” 

“No,” you smile in your reverie, shaking your head, “he's not a bad guy at all; and when you really get to know him, his stupid dorky self, I think it’s impossible not to fall for him.” 

“Yeah?” 

“He’s mean when he jokes around but he’s actually very kind, he’s sensitive when you poke him where it hurts but he hides it deceptively well, he’ll apologize for being wrong when the both of you clearly know you’re in the wrong, he’ll cook and wear the hottest pink clothes he can find because ‘to hell with societal norms,’ he’ll tell you the dumbest dad jokes but I promise you’ll get used to them eventually, ” you let out a reminiscent laugh that comes out more like a sigh, “and, sometimes, very rarely, he’ll hurt you unintentionally, of course, but he’ll always go out of his way to make it up because that’s just… that’s Jin. That’s my best friend.” 

A breeze passes by to perfectly mark the end of your cadence. Branches rustle above you and freshly budded cherry blossom petals flutter their way toward the grass underneath the two of you only to be risen once again by a following zephyr. Having been there throughout his and your lives, it’s almost as if the long-standing tree is agreeing to attest to your words. 

“Wow,” Youngji finally says after witnessing your truthful albeit embarrassing spoken love letter, “I… I wouldn’t doubt any of it… but why are you telling me? Shouldn’t you be telling Jin?” 

“I’m telling you, because,” you emphasize, “because I'm jealous of your position but I can't do anything about it so I want you to take good care of Jin. I just… I need to know he’ll be in good hands. I want him to be loved like the way that he loves. You’ll do that, won’t you?”

Youngji just nods. It’s the most somber response you’ve ever seen from her. Almost like the joining of hands in marriage has finally become reality. 

“Do you…” you struggle to squeeze out of the knot in your throat, “do you love him…?” 

“Y/N—” she begins but suddenly lets go of whatever she must have had planned “—yes, yes I do.” 

“And… you’ll take care of him?” 

Youngji bobs her head lightly, “yes, I will.”

“Promise?” 

“...promise.”

“Okay, then I’m entrusting him to you, and,” you smile, leaning forward to shake her hands before heaving one last sigh, “and this time, please keep the promise.” 

❀ ❀ ❀

A curse sinks into the thickness of the sapphire dusk that quickly descends upon the hushed city. Keys tinkle to decorate the silence of tonight’s resting wind, a silence that would have been accompanied by an equally passive woman and an oblivious man whose hands persist to fumble to his guest’s dismay. 

Standing before a small willow, vintage-looking store tucked away in the corner of downtown, an inaudible breath ascends a cloud of white that momentarily shrouds the grand interior peeking from spotless windows that line the exterior. Golden warm studio lights illuminate the gorgeously exquisite ivory gowns from the trailing trains up to its waterfalls of dainty veils. Velvet suits and satin neckties accompany each headless mannequin, welcoming each passerby to imagine themselves in their wildest fairytales… your hand in his and his in yours as a fleeting moment becomes a sealed promise of a lifelong loyalty. 

Breath completely taken away, you, yourself, almost fall prey to your own far-fetched dreams. 

“I thought I said we shouldn’t meet up anymore,” your forced mutters drag you from your short-lived reveries, “why did you bring me here?”

“You said we shouldn’t meet up anymore, yet here you are,” Jin chirps before cheering to himself under his breath once the key finally clicks into place, “yes! Old man must have purposely given me these rusty old keys.”

Crossing your arms, you retort, “I came because you said your close friend from home would be here, too.”

Turning around to face you with his back to the door and a hand on the golden knob, he raises a quizzical brow, “and… are you not my close friend from home?” 

“I thought you meant the other—”

“—this is my home, Y/N,” he says firmly, looking straight at you, “and I want my best friend to see me in my wedding suit before anyone else.” 

“But why me…?”

“Because I only care about your opinion.”

He answered without hesitation, but in your head you figure he must have forgotten about Youngji, the true spotlight of the show.

Gritting your teeth, a staredown begins between the two of you; but the longer you face those unequivocal looks of determination in his eyes, the hotter your cheeks become in the middle of a contrastingly chilly night.  

“Alright, fine.” 

“Thanks,” he gives you a small, lopsided smile before pushing the door open with his back and ushering you in with a slight bow, “ladies first.”

Your eyes roll but not for very long when you step foot into the store and your mouth falls agape. The ceiling is much higher than you had perceived from outside, the sides are lined with grand, wooden staircases that lead to a second floor where hundreds upon hundreds of white dresses and black suits find purchase along the hangers, and the click of your heels against the marble tiles of the entrance floor echo into the extravagant expanse. 

The wooden insulation of the store proves infallible when the door closes behind Jin and the shrewd air leaves you to a much more bearable surrounding. Standing affixed to the entrance, you watch as Jin strides toward the carpeted floor where a taupe curtain hanging from the ceiling drapes over a raised platform sits across its partner platform in the opposite of the room. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so enraptured by something aside from me,” Jin chuckles as he begins stripping the suit off of a black, velvety mannequin before pointing at the mannequin standing beside the opposite platform, “oh, why don’t you try on some dresses while I’m at it?” 

“What?” you scoff, finally taking a step onto the carpet. “First off, I never stared at you like that before. Second, why the hell would I do that? It’s your wedding, not mine.” 

“I asked the store owner for permission and picked a dress for you to try on,” he continues, finally stopping in the midst of unbuttoning his white, collared shirt when he looks up to find the fear in your eyes. “Hey, haven’t you always wanted to try one of these?”

“Yeah,” you laugh in disbelief because he actually listened to your past rambles, “but never under these circumstances.”

“C’mon, you never know if you’ll ever have a chance like this again,” he gestures once more when he notices the start of your contemplation, “c’mon, go on!”

You really don’t want to. It’s that nagging feeling of something going completely wrong tonight if you were to succumb and let yourself go. After all, your worst fear is yourself. It doesn’t feel right and you begin to wonder if it’s alright for you to hold onto this moment you’ve always dreamed about: dolling up and swearing your vows side by side with Jin. 

If you were to live out your fairytale, just for tonight, would you finally be able to sleep dreamlessly at night? 

“...fine,” you groan and storm across the room, tossing your purse into the ruby sofas and stepping onto the platform. Turning around to face a gleeful Jin, you’re about to scowl at him until your eyes flicker between the cheeky grin on that youthful face and those sculpted abdomen of his elevated by the lighting above. Cheeks flushing red, you gulp at the unseen sight before clutching the curtain in your hands and swinging it closed with a mumble, “and at least have some decency and use the curtains, God damn it…”

The freezing touch of your hands doesn't hold a candle to the heat of your face. Trying to calm your racing heart, you curse to yourself at the way he merely cackles at you and, even worse, the way your heart intensifies in response. 

“Yes, ma’am!” 

“...shut up,” you say more to yourself and your deafening heart.

The gown standing before you, however, is no help to your case either, for when you glance over the dress, the long train that could awe an entire room, the complimenting silhouette that doesn’t scream too over-the-top but enough to fulfill the little girl within you, and the classic lace sleeves that you’ve gushed over whilst skimming through magazines, you realize Jin had always been attentive even when he was stuffing his face with bread or even when he was being petty over an argument and you tried to rectify with incessant small talk. 

It’s at this moment that you acknowledge the rabbit hole you had just willingly fallen into and the impossibility of its towering escape.

“So,” Jin calls out to you as the sound of rustling clothes fill the silent air, “what do you want for your birthday tomorrow?”

“My birthday? Oh, right,” you slam palm to your forehead, having dwelled over the marriage and consequently forgetting your own birthday. “Uh, nothing really. I haven’t really thought about it this year.” 

“Really? You? Y/N? Not planning her own birthday?” he gasps. “Who are you and what did you do to Y/N?”

“Oh, shut up. With age comes other problems to deal with...”

...problems like you.

“C’mon,” he chuckles. “You have to have something. You can’t tell me you’ve gotten every single thing checked off of that old ‘birthday gift ideas’ list you gave me.”

“I mean… I wouldn’t say I’m very far from it and it’s not like you were actually going to give me everything I asked for. Say, what did I even have on that list?” your eyes wander to the towering curtains that envelop you as your hands reach behind to the buttons on your back. “A bowl of your tofu soup, some pocket money, a matching sweater, a pair of earrings, a necklace, and a… ring.” The word slips from your lips and it floats in the stagnant air before you can even do anything about it. His silence rings in your ears, so you quickly add in, “but I don’t want materialistic stuff like that anymore.” 

“...oh, really?” 

“Nope,” you heave a heavy sigh and pat the poofy material of the skirt down, “I think I’ve come to realize that… I just want to be loved. I don’t need a dress or a necklace or a ring…  you wouldn’t understand, but I don’t just want to hear those words. I want to feel them. I want to be loved.” 

But only by him.

A lingering silence drifts long enough for you to start panicking until, finally, he answers, “no, I understand.” 

“...well,” you quickly chirp as you fumble with the lacey material of your dress, “enough about me, what do you want for your big day, hm?”

“Why would I need a present from you?” he remarks. You can hear him finishing his final touches and you can barely stop your heart from leaping out of your chest. “You’ve given me enough already.”

“You mean I’ve given you enough earfuls and tears,” you retort, clutching onto the curtains as you shut your eyes to muster every courage within you. “Isn’t there anything I can give you? Anything you want?”

Counting down to yourself, the curtains and drawn open in one, swift swing; and when your eyelids flutter open, you find him standing on the platform across from you, dressed in a classic black and white suit with the curtains clutched in his hands like a mirror image of you. He glances over you from head to toe, as you do to him, until the both of you settle in each other’s gazes for what seems like an eternity, willingly lost and ever-so-enraptured.

You almost forget this isn’t actually your wedding.

“This,” he answers with a soft smile, “this is enough.”  

“...stop it.”

JIn frowns, “stop what?”

“Stop… looking at me like that,” you articulate, hands covering your bashful grin. “It’s making me feel self-conscious.” 

“Hey, it’s not my fault I have such a good eye at picking clothes for you!” he says whilst pointing an accusatory finger. “I guess 22 year old Jin had a pretty good sense of fashion after all.” 

“You picked this five years ago…?” 

The man shrugs but his high chin says otherwise regarding his humility, “I told you Kim Seokjin is a prepared man of his word.” Eyes peering across to wink at you, he continues a bit more seriously, “I might not be able to fulfill all of our promises, but this is the closest I can to it.” 

“Jin… you’re…” you laugh in disbelief, bashfully avoiding his intent gaze, “...you’re so incredibly stupid that I can feel it from all the way here.” 

“Oh, yeah?” he grins mischievously and takes a step toward you and off the platform. “How about now?”

“Stop it, don’t spread your stupidity to me.”

He spreads his arms out wide whilst taking another few steps forward, “why not? Aren’t we supposed to be together through thick and thin?”

“No, not really,” you adamantly shake your head amidst a hysterical fit of giggles, “don’t come any closer.” 

“Oh, no,” he feigns worry. Another footstep. “I can’t stop myself.” He approaches even closer. “The stupidity is spreading!” 

With him just a footstep away, you cower behind the shield of your hands, “stop it, stop looking at me like that—”

—and just as you squeal, his arms wrap around you to pull you into a tight embrace.

Like two lost puzzle pieces, his hands fit perfectly in the small of your back and his chin rests comfortably in the crook of your neck. His hair grazes against your burning cheeks. His scent envelops you into a rosy haze. He could probably feel the beat of your chest against his, but you wouldn’t know when you’re preoccupied by the thuds of his own. You had never been aware of the lonesome emptiness you’ve felt all these years until now, under the warmth of his touch that completes your other half. 

You almost forget to breathe until he takes a deep breath and lets out a slow, dreary sigh. 

“You are so beautiful.” 

Under any other circumstances, you would have smacked him for lying. Perhaps it’s the stir of the starry skies or the impending occasion or even the look he made on his way to you with a gaze that oozed with absolute adoration, but something tells you he’s being his genuine self tonight… and that’s what you fear the most. 

“You shouldn’t be saying that, Jin,” you say, stroking his head buried in your shoulder, “and you shouldn’t be looking at any women but Youngji with those eyes.” 

Whether he’s quietly reflecting or stubbornly disagreeing, Jin remains silent. His breath entangles with yours, syncing with the wavelengths that you two have been running for an ongoing seven years and, perhaps, beyond. 

He frustrates you to your wits’ end. There’s nothing he hasn’t made you question. At times, when you’re tossing and turning in bed and hoping for a way out of that cavern of a mind, you wish time could skip to a year in which the voices no longer haunt you at night; and yet, when you’re here buried in his arms, you would do anything to freeze and relish this fragment in time. 

It isn’t right. You two aren’t right and you know it isn’t right… but how do you deny yourself of the cure to those deep scars when he, himself, wishes to be downed? 

It takes everything in you to finally drop your hands from his locks to his shoulder. Just as you’re about to deny the tempting elixir, Jin lifts his head along with his gaze that now meets yours, “Y/N, I have something I need to tell you.”

“...y-yeah?” 

The windows to his soul twinkle underneath the dim chandeliers above. Those starry dark brown eyes simply take your breath away.

“My dad,” his voice quivers like the water that wells in his eyes; and when you know he’s about to bawl, you pat his head ever-so-endearingly. Gulping, he finds the courage to continue, “he’s sick.” 

“Oh... oh, Jin,” you murmur, quickly wiping the few tears that drop onto his flush cheeks before bringing him into another tight embrace. “I’m sorry.” 

“I only moved—” and that’s what cracks his buoyant front into a full on bawl  “—I only moved to take care of him!”

“I understand.” 

He shakes his head, “I didn’t want to abandon you!” 

“No, Jin, I know,” your voice is buried underneath his whimpers, “I’m sorry for saying that. I didn’t know. I’m sorry.” 

“I didn’t know things would turn out like this!” he cries, holding you even closer. “I didn’t know!” 

“It’s okay, Jin. Really, it’s okay. It’ll be okay.” 

“No, it won’t be okay,” his voice hitches in the midst of his hiccups, “my father is dying and now I’m walking down the aisle with a woman I don’t even love!” 

Your strokes come to a temporary stop because how could fate be so twisted? Who is it to decide whose time shall begin and whose time is up? You have to hold your breath along with the waterworks that sour your eyes. You can’t cry now. He needs your stability.

He needs you. 

“Did you…” you take a shaky breath, leaning back to watch him cover the messy state of his face, “did you tell your dad?”

“I-I couldn’t,” he stutters, voice muffled by his voice, “you know how long he’s been waiting for this.”

I know,” you ponder for a second before hesitating to continue, “...why didn’t you consider me?” 

“I—” his hiccup interrupts him as he roughly smears his tear-stained cheeks with his palms “—I thought you hated me. I didn’t think you would agree. I thought our promises were just a joke. But when you confessed that night, when you said you would fight for us—” his voice cracks again as he laughs at himself, eyes to the ground “—I thought damn, fuck, how did I mess up so hard? I should have fought for us. I’m so stupid—”

“—no you’re not—”

“—so fucking stupid!” 

His self-reprimanding curse echoes in the room. Each of his demeaning scorns inciting a fiery justice in you. 

“No,” you state, “you’re not stupid.” 

Without the dignity to face you, his hands clenched into fist and he continues with bangs shrouding his sorrowful eyes, “I’m sorry, Y/N. I hurt you—”

“—no, Jin, you did not—”

“—I messed us up—”

“—no, Jin, look at me, hey, look at me,” you place a finger under his chin to lift his spirits until those bloodshot eyes of his find refuge in yours. Smiling, you speak, “see? I’m okay. So what are you apologizing for?”  

“Aren’t you… mad?” 

“Mad? No, silly,” you laugh, wiping another tear. “Sad? Maybe.”

“See—”

“—sad because I wasn’t there by your side when you needed me… and maybe a bit sad that I won’t be the one holding you like this tomorrow,” you apologize with a soft smile over the latter jab that incites a wince from the boy. “Why didn’t you tell me about your father?” 

“I didn’t think it was that serious,” he hiccups, “and when I found out, I tried to call you but it didn’t go through.”

“Shit,” you curse under your breath, “I’m sorry.” 

“No,” he takes a deep breath to calm his high, “it’s not your fault.”

“And it’s not yours either,” you affirm, breaking out into a laugh when you take another look at his reddened eyes and dampened cheeks. “Look at you! Why are you looking like a mess on our wedding day, huh?! At least let us be ignorantly happy for one day!” 

“What…?” he frowns whilst hastily smearing every last evidence of his breakdown on his face. The result is an equally red, irritated skin across his cheeks. “What’re you talking about? Kim Seokjin never looks like a mess… hey, what’re you laughing at?!” 

“Look at your tie, idiot! What kind of a rich son are you if you can’t even tie it correctly? Come over here,” you say just as you grab the end of his necktie to pull him up onto the platform. With his necktie now at your eye-level, you begin to unravel whatever knot he had attempted. All the while, you can feel his gaze as he watches you do your thing, completely enamored. This time, it’s your turn to turn red. To distract yourself from the rising self-consciousness, you clear your throat, “call me whenever you’re going through a hard time, okay? I’ll give you my new number…”

The piece of fabric flails around into equally atrocious knots that Jin had previously created until you groan in frustration and disassemble everything. You had practiced this so many times while he was gone, foolishly believing it would come in handy the day he returned, but why does nothing ever work out the way you want it to? 

“I swear it worked last time I tried…”

Your best friend just watches silently, chuckling as you wrap the fabric around your own neck this time; and when he speaks, much steadier like the Jin you have always known, he looks you directly in the eye. “Youngji told me about your guys’ conversation.”

“Huh?” you pause as soon as your embarrassing declaration of love begins reciting itself in your head, but not even the resumed work of your hands could distract you from the ever-growing shade of red. “O-oh, that… what about it?” 

“I heard what you said about me.” 

“Yeah?” you hum nonchalantly, even though the trembling of your hands and the avoidance of your eyes from his give you away. “Well, did she tell you about all the complaints I made, too? About you being a stupid dork?”

“She did,” he utters before placing a finger below your chin to avert your attention to those dazzling works you desperately avoided, “but would you still be willing to marry this stupid dork?”  

“This isn’t even a real wedding,” you feign a frown under the spotlight of his intent gaze, “why are you asking me a question like that?”

“Sorry, I didn’t have the funds to hire a real priest.” 

“You don’t need to for a fake wedding.”

“I thought you said we should be ‘ignorantly happy for one day?’” 

The bantering just never stops, does it?

“Okay, well… to answer your question,” you mutter, eyes averting to the side, “under normal circumstances…”

“Under normal circumstances…” he repeats.

“Where you aren’t engaged…”

“Where I’m not engaged…”

“And your father approved of me…”

“And my father approved of you…”

“Then yes,” you say without hesitation, eyes returning to find a newfound comfort in his relieved gaze, “yes, I would marry you.” 

“And that’s why I love you,” Jin smiles, chuckling softly. “I’ll always want to marry you.”  

And just as a nearby clock tower strikes its church bells to signal the stroke of midnight, Jin grabs the end of your necktie and pulls you in to press his lips onto yours. The body of his warmth and the acceptance of an inevitable end to your paths serve as the last page of a book never to be read again; and yet, he holds himself close, refusing to let you go. 

But when the end nears and the magic of the bells resume time once again, the two of you pull away to catch your breaths. Forehead against yours, Jin gives you one last, fleeting kiss. 

“Happy birthday, Y/N.”

❀ ❀ ❀

Deja vu would be the perfect term to describe this feeling.  You can almost see yourself in the room of hundreds, stealing glances at the man from afar. It only takes one blink for you to relive the rollercoaster of jubilance and confessions and tears. In the split second of darkness, the past week flickers before you like a film reel: breaking down in the middle of the hallway right in front of Jin, staring bewilderedly at the large bouquet in the hand of a man at the office, confessing with tears that stain your face and sobs that conquer your voice, meeting the woman who had stolen your spot beside Jin, and holding him in your arms as he cries his heart out at the stroke of midnight. 

And just as quickly as the whirlwind of memories had taken you on a trek of time, your eyes flutter open to find yourself in another suffocating room of hundreds once again. 

Youngji [8:39 P.M.] Hey Y/N do you think you can visit me real quick? 

The glaring text on your phone screen glows in an otherwise dimly lit reception room. Thumb hovering over the screen, your mind goes blank. People pass by you, commotions and laughter fill every corner of the room, and you stand there frozen and affixed to the floor beside the table of food with a glass of red wine in your hands. 

“Hey, Y/N,” someone whispers into your ear and you immediately turn your phone off only to find Alex on her tiptoes, “what’s the matter?”

“Oh, um, nothing,” you respond under your breath, “it’s just that someone wants to talk to me.” 

“Well, you better hurry then,” she ushers you with a gripping hand on your left arm, “the ceremony is about to start anytime now.” 

“O-oh, okay,” you nod, allowing your footsteps to follow the momentum of her push. 

This isn’t exactly what you had planned, for the original plan involved your complete avoidance of the groom and bride, but it’s unsurprising that things never quite go your way. Nothing could quite topple you like last night’s revelation anyways. Taking a deep breath, you weave through the audience, wandering about the venue until you finally find yourself in front of a door with a “BRIDE WAITING ROOM” printed in gigantic black letters taped to it. 

Hesitantly, you knock, “hello? This is Y/N…? Youngji called for me—”

“—Y/N!” The wooden door swings wide open with a highly distressed Youngji hiding behind it. Before you can reply or even confirm the identity of the woman, her hands clutch yours and pull you into the room with a force unimaginable for a human of her size.  Practically lurching forward, a heap of air is knocked from your lungs just as the door slams closed. Coughs force their way through your throat, but Youngji wastes no time to rush to your side. “Y/N, this is an emergency! I need help!” 

“W—” you wheeze, peering up at her as you’re doubled over “—what in the world are you talking about?” 

“I don’t know,” her hands jitter as she paces back and forth, “I don’t know why I feel so… so nervous!”

“Hold on,” you frown, finally straightening your back, “that’s perfectly normal. It’s your wedding—”

“—please don’t say that word again,” she begins biting her freshly white-coated nails.

“What word? Normal? Wedding? Your—”

“—I can’t believe it’s my wedding…” she says repeatedly, hands flying to her head and disheveling her previously perfectly conditioned curls. She suddenly turns to face you, eyes wider than ever with a look that screams of an epiphany. “I-I don’t think I can go there. Y/N, I don’t think I can go out there!”

“What?!” you almost yell, flabbergasted. Recoiling from your outburst, you start much more softly this time. “Are you sure? I’m sure it’s just your nerves getting to you. You’ve been okay with it for at least a year, right?”

“Why?” her eyes widen to unprecedented diameters as she grabs your arm for support. “Is it because it’s too late? Do you think I should back out, Y/N?”

“What? No, no, no, calm down, follow me,” you shake your head, grasping her hand and guiding her to the chair in the center of the room where an entire photo shoot has been set up. Lowering yourself to a squat, you give her a squeeze as firm as the smile on your lips.  “Hey, you’ll be okay. It’s just the jitters. Everyone gets them. I’m sure Jin is freaking out in his room, too.”

“...okay,” she nods, pouting as her eyes lower to your hands that hold hers. Peering up at her from below, you can’t help but notice how beautiful she looks dolled up on this special occasion. From the extravagant poof of her princess gown to the gorgeous glow of the bride herself, you find yourself lost in a trance that burns with heart-panging jealousy. You almost miss her when she murmurs, “how are you so calm, Y/N?”

“Huh?” you raise a brow and laugh. “Why would I be nervous? I’m not the one getting married here.”  

“But… your best friend is getting married,” she shifts to get a clearer look of you but finds you with your eyes to the floor, “are you sure you’re okay with that?”

“Of… of course. I’m happy for him,” you say through barely parted lips and stand to your feet before making your way to the door. “It’s not exactly traditional, but do you want me to get Jin? Maybe he can calm you down—”

“—do you know why Jin agreed to this arrangement?” 

Freezing in your tracks, you throw a glance over your shoulder to meet her distraught gaze. 

“Why are you asking me that now?”

“Because,” she blurts, clearly without thinking as words fail to follow through, “because I want your blessing! I want you to be okay with it!” 

“Blessing...?” 

“Yes,” she nods. “I can live with marrying a man I don’t love because I know I’ll come around, but I don’t think I can live knowing I’ve broken your relationship with Jin.”

Your weight shifts from your left to your right but the force of burden weighs immeasurably heavier on your very being. There’s nothing that would have prepared you for her request. Preparation, however, proves unnecessary, for your mind runs on its own and the words come to you as if rehearsal is all it's ever done. 

“I don’t think I’m in the position to grant you permission. That’s your decision and Jin’s,” you say, “and if my blessing is what you’re asking for, then I can give you it as many times as it takes to convince you. But if you’re asking for me to be okay with it, then I’m sorry. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to give you that.” 

Those are your last parting words as you slump on the wall behind you and a heavy sigh is shared between the two women on opposite sides of the door. Head low like a woman unjustly ashamed for speaking her truth, you take a deep breath with those heavy shoulders that carry the weight of a woman who had essentially cursed the joining of two hands. Nevertheless, somehow, you persist to make your way through the halls just as the ceremony begins; but as the audience settles and the light dims, something tells you the guilt that intoxicates your blood would have a longer-lasting aftermath than you had first expected. 

“Hey,” Alex leans into you, whispering, “is it just me or does Jin seem really jittery?”

“...no,” you answer, making sure to keep yourself hushed amidst a room of seated spectators. From the second bench to the front, fortunately on the opposite side of where Jin’s parents sit in the front row, you get a clear view of Jin and Youngji in between the black silhouettes of a couple heads; but anyone in the room can tell the bright studio lights and elevated platform don’t help his constantly shuffling case. “I don’t think it’s just you.”

“I see… so both the groom and bride are getting cold feet, huh?” 

“Well,” you utter, quipping, “in Jin’s case, he’d probably just say he forgot to sleep with socks on.” 

Alex turns to you with sheer confusion across her furrowed brows, “huh?” 

But before Alex could inquire further, the priest clears his throat and begins the opening ceremony. The officiality of it all, a long-dreaded image of Jin standing by another woman’s side manifesting into reality, has you subconsciously sent into a frenzy. 

“Dear Beloved, we are gathered here today in the presence of these witnesses, to join Kim Seokjin and Heo Youngji in matrimony commended to be honorable among all…”

The clearing of his throat strikes once and hard against your chest. Each word that reverberates in the room echoes the vibrating pain in the blood pumped from a gaping wound. Your chest heaves and heaves and your lungs struggle to maintain composure, and while your breakdown may have gone unseen by the rest of the universe, you know for sure only two would catch sight of your state.

You and him. 

“...if there is any person who can show cause why they should not be joined together…”

The priest continues and the tension in the audience rises by the second of a stress-inducing prompt, but the moment Jin catches your eyes and the panic painted across it, his every attention remains on you. Guilt should’ve painted your expression now, having stolen the groom’s admiration from the rightful bride by his side, but all you can do is relish in a fleeting moment you deem the least this cruel world owed you. 

Maybe he feels the same way, because something catches in your throat like the hunch that has chills running down the nape of your neck. You don’t dare move an inch. You fear any movement would give you away, though you’re sure he already knew the second he met you halfway.

His eyes, those dazzling eyes that could single-handedly freeze any moment in time, they ask you for a permission only he could grant. 

“...let them speak now or forever hold their peace.” 

No one speaks but the thick air that engulfs every witness in the room is telling enough. Holding a shared, bated breath, everyone awaits and prays for the quick passing of this deafening silence. Your heart is pounding so hard you worry your passing out would be the one interruption to the ceremony, if not anything else. It takes everything in you to remain hidden, glued to the chair. You can hear every single movement in this room, the squeaking of a nearly retired bench, the rustling of clothes amidst a fidgeting audience, the anxious tapping of someone’s heels against the wooden floor, yet no one dares to speak now. 

The priest sighs a soft breath of relief. 

Everyone but you follows along. 

The priest clears his throat and pro—

“—I would like to speak.”

A loud gasp travels across the room. Every witness, including the priest himself, stares at the young man, wide-eyed. The knot in your throat inhibits you from following suit, but the hammer against your chest works harder than ever; because there he is, your best friend, standing boldly before the audience with a puffed chest and a tightened fist that brace for the repercussions. 

It all happens so suddenly, so swiftly. The strings that were left raveled now unraveled, the paths that were abandoned now explored, and the love of a lifetime whomst once bid you farewell now holds on with a determination that tells you they aren’t quite ready to let go, by happenstance or by conviction, everything falls into place. 

You had reprimanded yourself relentlessly for envisioning a moment like this and you truly believed this would be the worst case scenario, so why is it that only now, as your peering eyes are enamored by the sparkles in his, you find yourself smiling proudly and thinking to yourself… that’s your man. 

“Father, mother,” Jin turns to face his parents in the front row, declaring loudly and firmly, “I don’t want to marry someone I don’t love.” 

“What,” Alex shrills under her breath as she clutches your hands, “what is going on, Y/N?!”

Her voice doesn’t reach you and neither do her cold, nudging hands. The ongoing commotion around the room are like white noise in your background. You can’t even spare a second of your attention to the picturesque vision before you, the man who fights not for you but for the two of you.

Jin bows, head hanging low to his parents and the audience, “I’m sorry for saying this too late.” 

Everybody watches as his mother attempts to hold her husband in place. All is in vein, however, when one look of the baffled expression on her husband’s face conveys enough to everyone of the mayhem that is soon to ensue. He rips her grip apart from his arm and storms to his feet, pointing a finger at his apologetic son.

“W—” he struggles to find his breath “—what are you saying? You said you were okay with this just last week!”

“I did,” Jin affirms with his head still hanging low, “I thought I was okay with it until this week.” 

“How—”

“—honey…” the mother murmurs.

“No, changing your mind is one thing, but changing it at the very last second is another,” his father shakes his head, yanking his hand and stumbling on his feet before his distraught son could lend a helping hand. “Did I teach you to inconvenience others like this? Do you know how much trouble you’re causing Youngji and her family?”

“I do,” he says. “I’m sorry.”

His father grunts, “don’t you see, Seokjin? ‘Sorry’ can’t fix everything—”

“—actually, Mr. Kim, it’s not just Jin,” Youngji bounces to Jin’s side then pivots to bow to her parents who sit in the row before you, “I, too, don’t want to marry anyone until I really know them.” 

Physically, the spotlight remains affixed to the stage. Mentally, it feels as though everyone’s attention is gradually creeping its way toward you. It takes everything in you and the grip of Alex’s hands not to run from the prying eyes. 

“What?” their parents gasp. “Didn’t you say you were okay with it if it were Jin?”

“I did!” she insists, suddenly retracting. “I did, until…”

“I’m sorry,” Jin lifts his head to turn to Youngji’s parents before bowing once again, “this is all my fault.”

“No, no, you wouldn’t do this... tell me, son,” his father takes a step toward the stage, beckoning for an explanation, “tell me who did this to you?” 

Jin lifts his head, brow furrowing and lips thinning as he chooses to remain silent to his father’s question. Suddenly, it’s everyone’s duty to catch the perpetrator. The audience begins craning their neck every which way to skim over the possible candidates. Your heart sends threatening waves of pain that foreshadow the inevitable chaos you’re about to be dragged into. 

You can barely move from staring at the floor in between the groom and bride but you can spot the gradual direction of his mother’s eyes making its way toward you… and when they finally spot you, a lightbulb flashing across her eyes the second you make the lethal mistake of meeting her gaze for the first time in many years, it’s as though her son’s rebellion is the only thing that makes sense in this universe. 

Only naturally, his father catches onto his partner’s maternal instincts along with the rest of the crowd as their diverged attention converges, one head turning after another, to stare you down—some with awe plastered across their jealous front, some with ghastly colors than drain their face of blood. 

“Is that… you, Y/N?” his father’s voice echoes in the room. “Seokjin, don’t tell me…”

“No, father!” Jin jumps in, holding up a defensive pair of hands as he attempts to quell the fiery in his father’s temper. Wide-eyed and panicked, he glances between you and his father. “It isn’t her fault. I swear. I”ll explain—”

“—don’t tell me you’re going through all this trouble for a childish crush from five years ago?” 

A loud shriek began the chaos the second Jin’s father exploded, lurching forward with a vexing fist. Everyone in the front rows jump to their feet to hold him back, whereas people in the back rows stand to their tiptoes to get a better view of the climactic show, which includes a once-to-be-groom insisting his father punishes him and a once-to-be-bride slapping her ex-partner in the head for his submission. 

People are hysterically laughing, crying, screaming, yelling, fighting, but you sit there, frozen and petrified, until a hand shakes your entire being to your feet. 

“Y/N, Y/N, God damn it Y/N, earth to Y/N!” Alex raises her hand, just about to give you one hard slap to the cheek when you suddenly flinch awake. She then hastily pushes you toward the door in the corner of the room whilst everyone is too distracted to notice your discreet escape. She looks you directly in the eye, “you need to run before things get too crazy. I’ll handle things here for now.” 

“But Alex, I’m at fault here—”

“—yes, I mean, maybe,” she corrects herself with the shake of her head, “but you being here doesn’t help matters. I’ll help Jin and Youngji.”

“But—”

“—now go,” she starts your momentum with an encouraging push, “go!”

Nodding, you begin your long trek of the night. You run and you run and you run. Your mind runs blank but your feet run a mind of its own. You sprint down the dimly lit streets, you pay no mind to the traffic lights of endlessly empty streets, and your hair twirls in the wind that impedes your speed down the hills. Your surroundings become a blur as your arms swing desperately, your chest heaves incessantly, your eyes sting with tears, and your lips spill anguished sounds of incoherency until somehow, under the sway of the town’s cold spring air and your flux of emotions, you find yourself in a familiar street of your greatest dreams. 

Depleted of gas, your feet stumble into a trot that has your knee nearly buckling, which then turns into a jog that then drifts into an untroubled walk in which your lungs try to catch up and your mind is scrambling at a hundred miles per hour but you, yourself, have gone elsewhere. 

The luminescence of the full moon is blinding but all the more soothing as you navigate your way through this street you’ve walked one too many times before. For some reason, perhaps out of habit or a hope for something waiting at the end of the tunnel, you begin to count each passing light post. Seven fluorescent lights, you count, seven lights resembling the rays of moonlight until you finally reach your old acquaintance of many years at the corner of the street. 

Leaning your head back to stare at the familiar white text on a green sign post, you smile at the homely sight. 

CHERRY BLOSSOM AVE

A comforting breeze blows by you, the branches above you rustle in the wind, and the cherry petals from your old pal flutter into the air to envelop you in a solace you had long sought but failed to obtain. It’s like the calm after a storm. Not quite disconnected from the string that loops around your fourth finger to those of another man’s—no, you couldn’t unravel it after all this heartache—but at least away from the prying eyes that could tear you apart and away from the people who whispered gossip of matters they had none in. 

Hours seem to pass in the clouds that retire to reveal patches of new twinkling ornaments. You would have believed it if someone were to tell you all control of time lies within the blink of your eyes. The silence was calming initially; but the longer you stand here and the more the numbness begins to fade, the more you become aware of your lonesome circumstances. 

The silence is deafening. It knows your greatest fears and your innermost thoughts. You can’t handle it. You can’t bear the thought of being left alone to that voice in your head. 

You have to go. 

Where? 

You don’t know. You just know you have to go somewhere. You can envision all the places you can run to but all the roads lead you to one destination. Yes, anywhere would be fine, anywhere that leads you to him. 

“This marks the second time you’ve ever been so enraptured by something other than me.” 

Whirling around, seconds seem to become milliseconds and gravity becomes a law unbeknownst to earth, for you can’t believe the sight your eyes lay upon. There he is, standing by the tree just a few meters away with a loosened necktie and disheveled hair, almost as if a pitiful albeit wondrous mirage crafted by your shoddy prayers to the moon above. 

“Hey dummy,” he simply utters, taking a step or two toward you before poking your forehead, “what? Why’re you staring at me like I’m a ghost?” 

“What?” you manage to say under your breath. “I’m not staring…”

“I was just joking, you know?” he chuckles. “I wouldn’t be jealous over a street post. Psh, I’m not that dumb—”

“—why…” you frown when he quirks a brow, “why are you here? How are you here?”

“Oh no, she’s gone crazy,” Jin laughs at the stupefied look you give him. “At least an hour or two has passed since you left. Somehow, I managed to sit my father down and explain myself.” 

“And… what did he say?” your hands begin fidgeting. “He must hate me, doesn’t he…”

“I wouldn’t say ‘hate,’ per se… he’s perfectly okay with you. In fact, he likes you, really. He’s just mad at how things happened. After he calmed down, though, he understood where I was coming from.” 

Cautiously, you peek at those eyes that peer down at yours, “and your mother…?”

“She said she saw it coming from a mile away. Apparently she saw us arguing at the engagement party and knew right away,” Jin purses his lips. “Psh, yeah, as if I’m that easy to read.” 

Allowing yourself the smallest of laughs, you still can’t seem to rid yourself of that panging guilt. “And… what about Youngji?” 

Jin stares intently at your expression before cracking a smile and chuckling, ruffling your hair, “don’t go crying on me now, Y/N. Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of everything.” 

“But I just,” your voice cracks, “I just hate myself for ruining everything for everyone—”

“—hey,” he cups his fingers underneath your chin to lift your gaze to his, “you did not ruin anything for anyone. I did this. I chose to fight for us.” 

Hesitantly, you nod and he smiles in response. 

“Youngji’s still explaining to her family right now. She told me to find you and Alex told me you would probably here.” 

Frowning, you mutter to yourself, “how did she know…?” 

“Well,” Jin drops his hand from your chin to raise them in the air, “we did promise to swear our wedding vows here, didn’t we?” 

“So what?” you deadpan. “You’re gonna marry me now after all this mess?” 

“I know you really want to marry me as soon as possible, but I think I’m gonna have to take a break from weddings for now.” 

Rolling your eyes, you mumble, “ditto.”

“But hey, I may have already broken the third promise,” one corner of his lips curve into an apologetic smile before he shrugs, “but that doesn’t mean I can’t marry you in the future! Plus, I may or may not have promised my father I would marry you in the near future to make up for it, so...” 

Scoffing, you gawk, “and who said I would marry you?” 

“Who wouldn’t marry me?!” 

The two of you stare at each other in silence, but the mirrored grin that stretches across your lips are undeniable. Soon enough, a loud fit of giggles and cackles fill the air. It happens all too quickly. The banters come to you like second nature, the conversation flows like a river through time, and somehow you find yourself lying beside him on the blazer he had laid out on the grassy hill and star-gazing for hours on end. 

It’s almost like you’ve seen this all before, just five years aged. 

“So,” Jin speaks, “how’s your birthday been?” 

“Oh, shut the hell up.” 

“What?” he cackles, getting up to lean on his arm whilst hovering you. “You know it’s not too late to tell me what you want for your birthday!” 

“I already told you,” you narrow your eyes at him, “I wasn’t joking when I said what I said.” 

Jin smiles, “in that case…”

He leans in to diminish the distance between his lips and yours. A lulling zephyr blows gently on the cherry petals as you close your eyes and you can picture the way they gracefully descend upon the two lovers below. Having witnessed the unforeseeable promises from start to finish, it’s almost as though an old accomplice was applauding a long-awaited finale. 

And when he finally pulls away, eyelids fluttering open just as yours do, he speaks, “happy birthday.” 

“What was that for?” you giggle. 

Jin’s mouth falls agape, “I’m giving you what you wanted for your birthday!”

“Well,” you purse your lips, “where’s my ring to confirm it then?”

“After all this time, do you really need a ring at this point to confirm my love for you?” Jin rolls his eyes. “You know I’ll always want to be by your side, married or not.” 

A fit of laughs escape you as your hand reaches up to squeeze his cheeks, “I know, I know. I’m just joking.”

“Well, good, cause I’m bankrupt at the moment,” Jin sighs, plopping back onto the grass beside you. A momentary silence passes before he turns his head to look at you, “just to make sure, you said you wanted love, right?” 

Turning to meet those sparkles in his gaze, you answer, “yeah?”

“You said you wanted to feel love, right?” 

Your grin grows wider by the second, “yeah?” 

“Well,” he says, “do you feel it?” 

“I do,” you answer. “What about you? Do you feel it?”

The vows hold a truth much closer to his heart this time around, and he smiles as he swears...

“I do, too.”