#and he's tasked me and my sister w/ painting it

[welcometogrouchland]

I'm gonna eat this chess board

#ramblings of a lunatic #context is my dad hand carved a chess set + chessboard for my aunt to give to her when they visit in a week #and he's tasked me and my sister w/ painting it #AND EVERYTHING WAS GOING GREAT UNTIL WE REALIZED WE FUCKED UP ONE ROW OF THE BOARD #WITH BLACK ACRYLIC #I'M GONNA HAVE TO SCRUB IT OFF THEN PAINT OVER IT AGAIN IN BLACK AND WHITE #it's not actually that big of a deal I'm just like. waahhhhhhh < Luigi super mario bros esque crying noise #it's cool I've got til Saturday to make it all gucci #and i will #but there will be struggling until then

[jungkookslipring]

I Will Never Make You Lonely: CH 1

Summary: When your life is falling apart, your 8 best friends are there to lift you up

TW: mentions of de&th, su!c!de, su!c!de tendencies, su!c!dal ideologies, depress!on, anxiety, anxiety attacks, panic attacks, crying. If this is in any way triggering I’d steer towards more of my happier works. 

If you or someone you love has thought of or acted on suicide, there is help and there is hope 

Call or text 988

Genre: angst, hurt/comfort, non idol AU

PSA: this is no way represents the artists. While their birth names are used in this story, this is in no way a reflection of the artist or artists in real life.

Ch 1

The next day, Saturday, you were in your bedroom getting ready to paint your nails while the other guys were either out and about or in the apartments just doing their own thing. 

“Y/n?! Can I borrow some of your coffee grounds?” Shouted Seungmin from the other side of the apartment. You laughed before you shouted back.

“Check the bag behind mine!” There was silence and shuffling until you heard  “YOU’RE THE BEST!” You giggled to yourself. You got the younger one his own bag of ground coffee because he always borrowed yours. You didn’t mind sharing your coffee but Seungmin loved it so much you decided he needed his own; it was only fair since you used his coffee machine. 

“Would you like me to make you a cup?” Seungmin yelled from the kitchen. 

“Yes, please! Can you add vanilla too?” You ask.

“French or Bean?” He shouts back.

“Bean!!” You answer before going back to your task. You were going through your colors when your phone started ringing. It was Carter’s sister, Peyton. You put down your nail polish and answered the phone.

“Hey, what's up?” you ask putting the phone in between your ear and shoulder so you could proceed to paint your nails.

“Umm…w-what are you doing right now?” Peyton asked. You froze with the brush hovering above your nail bed. She was crying.

“I’m just about to paint my nails, why?” you ask, screwing the nail polish wand back into the tiny glass container. You grabbed the phone and held it firmly pressed to your ear. You heard your friend trying to control her breathing.

“Peyton? What’s going on?” You ask urgently.

“Carter was in a car accident early this morning…her car went off the road and hit a tree,” she choked out. Your heart stopped. There was no way.

“Is she okay?” you asked with every hope in the world that she was okay. There was silence. 

No. 

Please god no. 

There was a ringing in your ear that wouldn’t allow you to process what your friend was saying over the phone. While staring straight ahead you saw the picture frame that held a photo of you and Carter smiling together at the lake. You shook your head.

“I’m so sorry…” Peyton cried out. 

No.

You slowly set your phone on the floor as you stared at the picture. You could hear the faint voice of Peyton on the other line calling your name. You shook your head as you scooted backward until your back hit the bed frame. You press the heel of your hands to your eyes. 

“No No No..no this isn’t…this isn’t real,” you grit out between your teeth. After you moved to Seoul, you were only able to meet your best friend, Carter, once a year for a couple of days before returning to school. Little did you know that the last time you spent time with Carter would be the final time. You remained seated, hugging your legs, and rocking back and forth. Suddenly, you heard two pairs of footsteps coming to a sudden stop outside your door, before entering your room and starting to speak.

“Y/n? What’s wrong?” Chris asked calmly but slightly frantic. He scanned you making sure you weren’t physically hurt. You open your eyes and look up. Standing in front of you were Chris and Seungmin. How does one relay this type of information without completely shattering?

“Whatever it is, it’s going to be okay, yeah?” Chris whispered, squatting to your level. You shook your head again. It wasn’t okay. 

“Carter-” you whispered. 

“Carter’s dead,” you finally say. They audibly gasped, Seungmin immediately squatting down to your level by Chris.

“Oh my god…” Seungmin breathed out. Chris crawled up next to you and gathered you in his arms. 

“Oh, my goodness y/n…I’m so sorry,” he said, arms circling your frame. You barely registered the movements until you were breathing in his scent. Seungmin had a hand on your back, rubbing it in soothing motions. He turned around when he heard your friend calling your name over the phone. He picked it up and held it to his ear.

“Hi…yeah Y/n is still here, Chris has her right now,” Seungmin said gently in English. Peyton asked you to call her back when you could. She hung up and Seungmin put the phone down. When Seungmin turned back to Chris, he was still holding you in his arms. 

“Peyton asked if you could call her back when you get the chance,” he said gently as he rubbed your knee. You nodded as your eyes shook. Their comfort was the one thing keeping you grounded and preventing you from going catatonic. After maybe 5 minutes, you lifted your head from Chris’s shoulder.

“I think, I think I’m going to call Peyton back, check in on her” you whisper. Seungmin rubbed a thumb over your hand. 

“Would you like us to stay?” He asked. Your friends were just so kind. You shook your head, giving them a tight-lined reassuring smile.

“I think I’ll be okay, thank you though.”

Chris squeezed you once more before hesitantly moving to stand up. 

“If you need absolutely anything at all, come get us okay?” He said with so much sincerity in his tone. You made eye contact with them and wordlessly nodded before the two walked out and closed the door. They made their way into the living room and found Minho and Han. The duo smiled at them until they saw the sad looks Chris and Seungmin had painted on their faces. 

“You guys okay?” Minho asked. Chris let out a small sigh and guided the boys further into the living room. They all sat down on the couch and the two listened intently.

“Y/n’s best friend Carter passed away,” Chris said looking at his hands. Minho and Han’s breaths hitched. 

“Oh my gosh…” Han whispered. Minho put a hand on Han’s knee. 

“How?” Minho asked. Seungmin shook his head.

“We don’t know…we didn’t ask,” said Seungmin. They realized it had to have been a freak accident or something; Carter was young. 

“Should we tell the others?” Minho asked.

“Eventually yeah, just so they know what’s going on,” Chris said quietly. After 30 minutes, Changbin, Hyunjin, Felix, and Jeongin finally got home from their classes. Chris quietly called them into the living room. They all quickly took off their shoes and sat down nervously.

“No one’s in trouble, I just have some news,” Chris said sadly. Everyone’s hearts started racing, even the ones who already knew.

“We don’t know how…but Y/n’s best friend Carter died,” Chris said sadly. Everyone’s eyes went huge. 

“Oh no…” Changbin said quietly, shaking his head. He couldn’t even imagine the look on your face when you found out. 

“How is she?” Jeongin asked quietly. Chris gave Jeongin a sad smile and patted his leg. 

“I think she’s in shock,” he whispered, remembering how he and Seungmin found you. They all sat in silence, not knowing what to say until Seungmin spoke up.  “She’s on the phone with Carter’s sister,” he said quietly. They all nodded, and all that could be heard were the cars outside. Back in your room, you picked up your phone and went to your recent phone calls. You clicked on Peyton’s contact and hit the soeaker button.

“Hey,” she croaked out. She’s been crying for a while. 

“Hey,” you whispered.

“How are you doing?” Peyton asked. You shook your head.

“I don’t know….”

There was silence for a while until Peyton spoke up.

“Do you think you would be able to fly down here next month?” she asked. You shrugged while rubbing your temple. You only flew down for the holidays and usually, you had enough saved for those flights only. Tickets weren’t cheap. 

“Yeah I think I can make it,” you say before Peyton lets out a sigh.

“Okay…I can pick you up from the airport if you’d like,” she offered. 

“Sure, yeah that works.”

This was not happening.

“Okay, I’ll keep you posted,” Peyton said thickly as she hung up. You let your arm fall to the side as you stared at the ceiling. You inhaled deeply and let out a long sigh. You decided to get out of bed and get that coffee that was probably lukewarm by now. The guys all whipped their heads around when they heard your door click. You slowly walked out of your room into the hallway, stopping in the entryway when you saw 8 pairs of eyes looking at you with so much concern. The sight of you was just so sad. You were wearing one of Hyunjin’s sweatpants and Chris’s black hoodie, which wasn’t new, but you looked so small and so lost, something they weren’t used to seeing. Your face had lost all of its color,  like you had just seen a ghost. You suddenly felt so vulnerable, scratching your neck.

“I uh *clears throat* thanks for the coffee, Seungmin,” you say, giving him a shaky smile. 

“No problem…” he says just as quietly. Everyone was still unsure how to approach this situation. Do they mention Carter? Do they act like nothing is wrong? Your hands were shaky, still in a state of shock from the phone call you got not even an hour ago. Minho and Changbin both stood up quickly when they watched you almost drop your mug. At this stage, the boys were nervous you were either going to drop the mug on your foot, spill the hot liquid on your skin, or all of the above. That fear came true when you took a shaky sip of your coffee, the hot liquid spilling out from the sides and hitting your wrists. You made a pained noise as you put the mug down. Minho swiftly walked into the kitchen calmly placed hands on your shoulders and led you to the sink, immediately turning on the cold water. 

Everyone knew you were headstrong, so they weren’t used to seeing you like this. Within your friend group, you were the third oldest, and in times when they needed someone to lean on, it came naturally to you to care for them. Only on a couple of occasions have they seen you upset, like during a sad drama or when you’d laugh so hard tears would spring to your eyes, or when COVID happened and so much was happening, but even then you remained strong for them, and right now you looked like you were on the brink of an anxiety attack.

“Come here,” Minho whispered after turning off the faucet. He walked you into the living room where everyone else was and pulled you into a hug. Your arms hung by your side and your breathing became uneven, but you refused to cry, cause once you cried then it was real. 

“You don’t have to tell us if you don’t want to love, but what happened?” Minho asked carefully.

“Um…car accident?” you said almost as a question but more in disbelief. You heard someone make a pained noise while you stared at the wall.

“I don’t know how…maybe an animal ran out or maybe she was on her phone, I don’t know….but her car ran off the road…and she hit a tree.” No one knew what to say.

“Y/n…were so sorry,” Hyunjin said sadly. As much as you wanted to stay in someone’s embrace, you needed a distraction, something to take your mind off of things. You lifted your head and took a deep breath.

“I’m gonna try to get ahead on my reading, so I can get further in my research paper,” you said as you slowly pulled away from Minho, putting on your best attempt of a smile. Everyone nodded, not sure if they wanted you to be by yourself, but they respected your wishes and watched you retreat to your room. You flipped back and forth between reading and writing for a few more hours until your eyes hurt from staring at the screen for so long. You didn’t know how you were going to sleep. You tossed and turned in your bed for an hour, the phone call on replay in your mind. Well shit if you can’t sleep might as well study even more, right? You pulled out your laptop, the bright screen irritating your eyes even further as you started typing when all of a sudden there was a knock at your door.

‘Great, I woke one of the kids up’ you thought to yourself. You went to open the door and there stood the literal sun.

“Hey y/n,” he said sweetly. You gave him a small smile. 

“Hey Lixie, what’s up?” you asked.

"Can't sleep...can I stay with you tonight?" he asked playing with his sleeve. You grinned and pulled him into the room. You got under the blankets, Felix following close behind. You saved your work and put your laptop on your nightstand. You pulled the sweet boy into your arms and closed your eyes.

“Y/n?” He asked quietly. You hummed in response.

“Everything’s going to be okay,” he whispered. You ran your fingers through his hair.

“Thanks, Lixie.” He smiled and snuggled even deeper into your side. Felix dozed off in your hold, but you were wide awake. 

At around 7 am, Felix woke up. He sat up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He stared into your eyes, and by the looks of it, you hadn’t slept a wink. 

“Did you sleep at all?” He asked. You shook your head. 

“My brain wouldn’t let me,” you slightly chuckle. Felix pouted.

“I’m sorry,” he said in his low voice. You gave him a small smile. 

“Thanks for the cuddles Lixie,” you thank Felix as you pat his hand. He smiled and gave you a side hug.

“Anytime,” he said as he squeezed you. 

“Do you want to come to breakfast?” He asked. He figured you probably didn’t have the biggest appetite but he still wanted to ask. You shook your head.

“I’m not hungry, but maybe I’ll come out at some point, I’m gonna keep working on this,” you say, rubbing your eyes and pointing towards your laptop. Felix and patted your shoulder before getting out of bed and leaving your room. In the kitchen, Changbin and Seungmin were cooking. They both turned around when they heard footsteps.

“Morning Lix,” Changbin smiled. Felix gave Changbin the best smile he could, but the older one knew what was going through his head.

“How is she?” he asked quietly. Felix shrugged. 

“She didn’t sleep at all, which I get…I just feel so bad for her,” Felix sighed. They both nodded. 

“I don’t know if she’s still in shock or trying to numb herself but…I mean I know it hasn’t even been 24 hours yet so maybe she is just in shock but *sigh* I don’t know, it’s just hard seeing her that way,” Felix added. Seungmin shook his head.

“I’m sure she was very grateful you stayed with her last night, honey,” Changbin whispered as Felix hid his face further into the older’s neck, Seungmin walking up behind him and scratching his back. If Changbin felt wetness on his skin, he wouldn’t say a word. 

————————————————————————

ahhhhhh nerve wracking! I promise chapter 2 will be more lighthearted. Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!❤️

taglist: @felixmainacc @felixburneracc @myforevermelody143 @dunno-wut-to-do @itzsana-kiddingmenow

#stray kids #stray kids x stay #stray kids fluff #skz fanfic #skz scenarios #skz imagines #stray kids hurt/comfort #stray kids x reader #non idol au #skz au #stray kids imagines #skz x reader #hurt/comfort

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

𓃮 Even the Sun Influences the Tide: Chapter Four

Even the Sun Influences the Tide: After the death of your foster brother, King T’Challa, you had spent much of your year of mourning in isolation. When your mother gathers you and your sister to end your mourning period, you encounter the newest threat to Wakanda: Namor. You don’t know what to think of Namor, but you do know one thing: he probably shouldn’t be making trips to see you at your beach hut.

Warnings: None.

To Note: Namor/K’uk’ulkan x Fem!Reader, I Tried To Make The Yucatec Maya & Xhosa Translations/Traditions As Accurate As I Can Get.

Word Count: ~2.1k

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It had been days since the convening of the council and you had easily fallen back into your life. You had your garden to tend to, your hut to maintain, and some laundry to wash. You had woken up early this morning with the intention to fix some fishing netting before it grew too hot to work under the sun. So you had made your way out to the nets you left in a part of the shallows of the river, and waded to the torn section. Your fingers found the edge of the fishing net and you began tugging at it, pulling up the gaping hole that a fish had managed to chew open.

You held it up and looked at the frayed edged, your eyebrow lifting while you internally sighed. This would be an instance where Okoye or Shuri would remind you that you could have just used a vibranium net and not have bothered with the traditional netting that could break. If you had done that, you’d have nothing to do and nothing to take your mind off of your pain. You’d rather be standing in the river, fingers grappling with spare twine, mending the bloody net, then lost in a world of emotional agony.

Knotting the broken twine that was just floating free, you began to repair the net like how you had been taught. You worked out to in, softly cursing under your breath when the twine slipped from your fingers or dug into your flesh when you pulled too tightly. Why did you think this was such a good idea in the first place?

“Sometimes you are just too foolish to think straight, Y/N,” You sighed to yourself, tying off another end. You were about halfway through the repair.

“I am surprised to find you tending to such a menial task, princesa,” Your fingers ceased their mending instantly and your eyes lifted to stare at the horizon in front of you. Did this god have nothing better to do than break Wakandan law and risk your mother’s wrath? Your eyes dropped back to your task at hand and you resumed your repair.

“I’m not a traditional princess,” You spoke, your fingers whittling away at your task. “I’m not even royalty by blood.” Namor sloshed around behind you, slowing moving up the current to stand side by side with you. You felt his powerful stare on your body, but didn’t move your eyes from the task at hand.

“That doesn’t make you any less of a princesa, princesa.” He replied, eyes now trained on your fingers working away. You didn’t have the hands of a princess. You had the hands of a commoner, a worker, a farmer… not someone of regality or royal. But that still didn’t take away from the beauty Namor could see. You hummed vaguely before responding.

“Doesn’t it?” Namor cocked his head while his lips twitched, then he looked to the clouds above. The gentle sunrise painted a kaleidoscope of colors across the sky, it was going to be a beautiful day, he was sure of it. “My people named me their king because they believed in me, not because of the blood I carry through my veins.” Namor pointed out, reaching over and stabilizing a thread that had been on the verge of slipping free from your work. You quickly fixed that thread and moved on. “How did you become the daughter of Queen Ramona?”

You didn’t freeze, you were proud to say, but your hands slowed down a noticeable amount. Twisting your head, you looked at Namor with question. What need did he have to know that answer? For a moment you thought to tell him to just look it up, as it was public knowledge… but then you remembered that he didn’t have access to those types of resources.

“My parents died,” You explained shortly. “The Dora Milaje found me wandering and cared for me while they found information on who I was. Ramonda and T’Chaka took me in when they learned that I had no one left. End of story.” Namor raised an eyebrow once more, knowing that your story was far from being as simple as that.

You were partaking in another late night swim, enjoying the cool water and calm evening. You had spent a great deal of time in your garden earlier in the day, working up a sweat. It felt good to clean yourself and simply relax. Dipping below the surface, you swam as far as you could without surfacing, relishing the absolute silence. Surfacing, you tread water for a moment, looking ahead for any wildlife. There was the herd of elephants that always visited the river, just off to your left. You were sure that they were going to bed down for the night soon.

Overhead a flock of birds screeched in the night, a swatch of black that momentarily darkened the sky. Their disturbance was fleeting within your mind as you stopped trending water and resumed your swim. Your muscles were getting tired from the rather labor intensive day you had and the cool water was only doing so much to relive your aches. Twisting in the water, you began your trek back to your beach.

You were half way there, thinking of nothing as you focused on swimming, when your senses alerted you to the fact that something wasn’t quite right. At least that skill hadn’t gotten rusty since you left the city. Feeling as if someone was following you, your swam a few more stroke, before abruptly turning in place while your left hand snatched the knife strapped to your leg. Your knife came within millimeters of Namor’s neck as he gazed at you with an impressed look.

“Your senses are sharp, princesa,” Namor echoed, his eyes bright and his lips stretched into his boyish grin.

“Kristu!!” (Christ!) You shouted in exclamation, your heart racing in your chest for a few more seconds. “Do you have no self preservation, Namor!?

His cheeky smile widened and you growled at him, not lowering the knife from his neck as you tread in place.

“What are you doing here? Again!?” You hissed in question, honestly wondering what he found so fascinating about you, that kept him coming back despite the potential repercussions. Namor shrugged at you.

“I do come in peace, princesa,” He told you before looking down to the wrist of the hand holding the knife to his neck. “And I have a token of trust I’d like to give you.”  Your eyebrow went up while your eyes remained on his face in scrutiny.

“If you want to speak about trust, you’re better discussing that with my mother, for it is her who’s trust you’ll have to gain if you want Wakanda to help you.” Namor’s eyebrow wiggled as he brought his fingers to your skin and began tying something around your wrist.

“I don’t need Wakanda’s trust, not right now,” Namor admitted to you, liking the way your eyes always sparked with life and fight. “I just want a mutual cooperation. After all, was it not your brother who revealed vibranium to the world?”

You bit your tongue to stop yourself from impulsively going off on him for speaking of T’Challa. What did he know about your brother!? But then logic returned and you thought over what he had said during the initial conversation between him and your mother. If T’Challa had kept quiet about vibranium, government agencies wouldn’t have gone digging in the ocean looking for it, and then posing a threat to Namor’s people. When Namor’s warm fingers left your wrist, you finally allowed your eyes to flicker to what he had tied there. Lowering your vibranium knife from his neck, you stared at the delicate and clearly handmade bracelet now tied around your wrist.

“Namor…” You softly spoke, your eyes pinching as you thought it over. “Who’s is this?” Namor looked at the bracelet fondly, a smile on his lips. His mother’s bracelet looked very nice on your wrist.

“It was my mother’s, made for her by the elder of her tribe from the fibers of a special plant and carved jade.” Your eyes grew to saucers as you realized just what was currently wrapped around your wrist. A relic. You went to take it off, because if it was his mother’s, surely it meant something to him.

“Namor, I cannot take this—“ He intercepted your reaching fingers, holding them in a gentle grip while looking at you with a smile.

“I want you to have it, princesa, because I do not wish to be enemies with you.” You chewed on your lip, still indecisive.

“It’s your mother’s,” You protested weakly. “I’m sure it means a great deal to you.” Large fingers folded over your smaller ones, keeping you from taking the bracelet off.

“And I wish for you to have it as a token.” You stared in Namor’a eyes for a few seconds more, before dropping your gaze with a sigh.

“If that’s what you want…” You trailed off quietly. “But really, you’re tempting fate by coming back to see me, Namor.” His face twisted into a cheeky smile once more and you sighed. You were fairly sure that he didn’t care.  

Your fire was getting low, sputtering an crackling with dying embers while you sat beside it. After finishing up your dinner and cleaning up the dishes, you had taken to sitting beside dying fire while holding one of your most prized possessions: the  Xhosa necklace you had received from T’Challa. You didn’t know why he was on your mind this night, you were usually good about not letting your emotions get the better of you… but not this night.

Sniffing in frustration, you pushed your hand over your hair and let the little beads that marked the stages of your life within Wakanda, slip through your fingers. You weren’t sure if it was real, but you felt a calming hum from the beads, like T’Challa was within them, soothing your emotional pain. You picked at the colors and did your best to focus on the memories you were most fond of. T’Challa holding your hand while he led you through the city markets. T’Challa teaching you how to track animals in the bush. T’Challa sneaking you out of your tutoring sessions…

Your eyes burned and you lifted them to the night sky overhead. You wouldn’t cry. You couldn’t. The ritual you had done when you burned your funeral clothes marked a new chapter. It wouldn’t do to fall back into despair or allow melancholy to rule your mind. Rotating the necklace in your hands once more, you looked back down at the colorful beads.

“Don’t cry, Y/N,” You told yourself. “You promised T’Challa that you wouldn’t let his death consume you.” Your fingers tightened around the beads and you took a deep breath, calming your thoughts and mind.

“It is a beautiful night, K’iino,” (Sun) You were no longer surprised when Namor appeared, he had visited enough that you didn’t jump in place or pull your knife on him anymore. Your eyes lifted from your necklace to the sky.

“Yes, it is.” You replied absentmindedly. The stars twinkled back at you, unhindered by the light of civilization. Namor examined you, his gaze eyeing the red tinge and watery look within your eyes. Something had upset you and judging by the words you had been murmuring to yourself when he had arrived, it was based around T’Challa.

“That is a beautiful necklace, where did you get it from?” Namor questioned, his eyes running over the colorful beads. You held it with such care, surely it meant a great deal to you. Pursing your lips, you glanced at the god like man.

“T’Challa, it was the first gift he ever gave to me,” You explained, smiling softly at the memory. “In our culture, beads are added to signify life events. He taught me most of what I know.”

“The late king sounds like he was a wonderful brother.” You chuckled, finding irony in his words.

“He was, especially to a complete stranger who joined his family so abruptly.” You thought over T’Challa and looked back at Namor. “I know that you are not happy that he put your people at risk by sharing the knowledge of vibranium with the world, but he did so with good intentions.”

Namor cocked his head.

“Perhaps…” He mused, eyes skimming the river horizon and once again appreciating the beauty of Wakanda. “I do not know if I would have gotten along with the king, but I might have with the brother.”

Date Published: 3/26/23

Last Edit: 4/2/23

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#namor x reader #namor of talokan #namor fanfiction #namor x y/n #namor #namor fic #namor smut #wakanda forever #k'ul'kulkan #marvel #black panther 2

[ask-the-noahs-ark-circus-crew]

Dunno if you did this already, but family headcannons for the circus troupe: How would they treat their kids? Spouse? Would they all still keep in touch?

I honestly don’t know if I’ve done this or not, but hey I’ll just do it again anyway! An updated version, even!

Just like they say in those Fast and Furious movies: “there’s nothing stronger than family”. While each of the members may be out living their own lives and taking care of their own families, they’d all still be close as hell no matter what - it’d be like all of their kids are brothers and sisters! And with their respective spouses they see no differences between having their own biological kids or adopting kids - they see all kids as their own no matter what!

Dagger would absolutely treat his spouse like royalty and would absolutely fawn over them, reminding everyone “HEY I’M IN LOVE WITH THIS PERSON! He would love doing everything from menial everyday tasks to super time-consuming projects with his partner, this man is Golden Retriever energy personified! Absolutely would be the type of man to not be embarrassed if his partner gave him a big kiss on the cheek and left a kiss stain, nor would he be embarrassed about having some lipstick from his partner transfer onto his own - he works at a circus after all, he already wears makeup! You know Maes Hughes from FMA? Dagger would RIVAL that man when it comes to loving his children: shoves pictures of his kids in people’s faces, blathering on about how they’re growing up so much and so fast, and will proudly display any of his kids’ artworks! Overall A++ husband and father!

Joker is, comparatively, a little more toned down than Dagger when it comes to his declarations of love for his partner. He prefers a more quiet and intimate environment, but absolutely loves PDA and giving them flowers out in public just to see their cute reaction. Mans would be head-over-heels in love with his spouse. He would be worried about becoming someone like Father, but once he held his child for the first time all of those fears vanished as he realized there was nothing he wouldn’t do for them. If his kid did his hair and makeup, he’d happily go about his day with a silly hairstyle and lipstick painted over his eyes. Joker would wanna be there for all of his kids’ big moments: learning to walk, saying their first word, all of it! Basically would be Bandit from the show Bluey lmao.

Snake is another one who shows his love and affection behind closed doors, just because he’s super anxious in general. But he’s slowly getting better at opening up to PDA with his spouse, and especially if their kid wants to hold his hand as they walk or something. He adores his kids and partner and really enjoys all of the domestic sides of being a parent: cleaning, cooking, looking after the kids - basically is the perfect house-husband/male wife.

Jumbo is and absolute dad. That’s all my brain can think of when I see Jumbo. He can do the hair, the little outfits, the bow in the hair! Not saying that he wouldn’t love his kid no matter their gender, I’M saying this for ME lol. It always makes his spouse laugh to see him wearing makeup, sitting on the ground and still being too tall for the little tea-table, wearing a little tiara and maybe a dress or something while also holding a too-small tea cup and pretending to drink tea with his daughter. Also is another one who would be the best house-husband and is very much a mother-hen to his partner and kids whether anyone is sick or injured or perfectly healthy.

Peter would 100% pull goofy pranks on his kid, or would encourage if their kid said something like “fuck!” when they mean to say “truck” (Peter: Ooo, what’s that over there? Peter’s Kid: A Fire Fuck!) Beast almost lost her damn mind when she heard his kid drop an f-bomb so casually. While he plays harmless pranks on his kids he would never go overboard with them or traumatize them, just silly pranks that gets laughs from everyone involved. He also absolutely would fight for his kids and his spouse, literally would throw hands or stab for them.

Also: y’all know that tiktok of the older brother playing dolls with his younger sister? And the kid goes “use your girl voice 😠” and the older brother goes “how you doin’? ✨💅🏻”, then gets mad at the person recording? That’s Peter and maybe Dagger/Wendy coded lmfao.

Wendy is a mother who loves wearing matching outfits with her kids. She never thought that she would even like kids, but once she had them she absolutely fell in love with the kiddo! She loves doing all sorts of fun little activities with her kids and tries to get with everyone else together for big get-togethers. She never thought that she could be in love with someone like her spouse and their kids, and yet here she is, happier than she has ever been.

I mentioned the show Bluey before, so I imagine Doll would be much more like a Chili kind of mom: super silly and generally chill. Not a traditional mom. She’s not super great at cooking and cleaning, but she takes care of her kids and her spouse.

Beast would probably be the most strict parent out of everyone but that’s only because she was basically everyone’s ‘big sister’. Very much “I’ve only had this baby for five minutes but if anything were to happen to them I will kill everyone in this room and then myself”. Having a baby would make her fall more in love with her spouse: this is something they made together, or a decision that they made together (in the instance that they adopt) and she couldn’t be more happy or content. Very type-A when it comes to cleaning and has a fairly strict feeding schedule for her baby.

#book of circus #noahs ark circus #joker kuroshitsuji #snake kuroshitsuji #dagger kuroshitsuji #beast kuroshitsuji #jumbo kuroshitsuji #doll kuroshitsuji #peter kuroshitsuji #wendy kuroshitsuji

[conquerthenight]

BeatrIch?? *gasp*

Thank you anon!!!

It hadn’t taken long for Beatrice to develop fond feelings towards her new young sister in law. Upon Maxim introducing his bride to her, she found Ileana de Winter to be a charming creature, her shyness an endearing quality rather than the flaw the younger woman believed it to be. Upon discovering her talent for sketching, Bea had scoured every shop she could in hopes of finding some art supplies of decent quality to give as a wedding gift. It had proven to be a daunting task, as Bea had very little knowledge of art, but she had found pleasant looking set of paints and a new sketchbook to present to her sister in law.

She would never forget the way Ileana’s face lit up when she arrived at Manderley the next day, gifts in hand. “Oh, thank you so much!” The young woman exclaimed, her blue eyes shining like a pair of sapphires. “I’ll be sure to make good use of these”

Bea smiled, relieved that her efforts had proven successful. “I’m glad you like them, dear” She said.

“Like them? I love them. I could…I could kiss you” Ileana immediately covered her mouth upon the words leaving her lips. Bea could have sworn the girl was also attempting to hide a blush. “I mean…thank you” Ileana added on with an adorably nervous laugh.

Bea couldn’t help but laugh herself, especially when her sister in law’s blushing was now completely unmistakable. “You’re very welcome, but I doubt Maxim would be too happy to hear that you want to kiss me” The remark was meant in jest, though as was typical, Bea regretted it. Her tactless sense of humor was not to most people’s taste, and Ileana had misunderstood some of her jokes before.

However, much to her surprise, Ileana just shook her head. “No, he won’t mind. We aren’t…that sort of couple” She explained.

Beatrice, ever observant, had an inclination as to what her sister in law was implying. “That sort of couple? You mean a lavender marriage?”

Ileana nodded. “Well, yes. We came to a sort of agreement in Monte Carlo. It’s not really for me to share anything else”

An agreement. Bea knew exactly what her sister in law was referring to, for she had a similar arrangement with her husband, Giles. Neither were attracted to the opposite sex, and though they had married at a young age to avoid scrutiny, they kept their own lovers discreetly. Or at least, they had the option to if someone in particular caught their fancy.

Ileana had caught Bea’s eye almost from the beginning, but she hadn’t thought it wise to do anything about it due to the young woman’s marriage to her brother. Perhaps that could change now. “It seems that you, my dear, are in good company” She spoke with ease.

Ileana beamed at those words, her expression more lively and free than Bea had ever thought possible. It was always such a wonderful sight, seeing the girl come out of her shell little by little, but that was more prevalent now than ever. “In that case, w-would you mind if I-?” She stuttered a little, shaking her head out of embarrassment.

Bea responded by tucking a strand of Ileana’s blonde hair out of her face. “I wouldn’t mind in the least” She spoke with her usual tender tone, gently pulling Ileana close to her.

After Ileana had taken a moment to steel herself, she pressed her lips to Beatrice’s. The kiss was gentle, sweet, and though it started off a little tentative on Ileana’s part, it had grown quite passionate after a moment. Bea could not get enough of this sweet young woman.

Ileana was the first to pull away, and her blush from earlier returned to her cheeks, as did that adorable smile. “How was it? I hope you liked it” There was something in her manner of speaking that betrayed her usual eagerness to please, though Bea had no idea why Ileana should worry on that front.

“Could you kiss me again, dear?”

#i’ve written so much angst it’s about time i write some fluff #i don’t usually write from bea’s pov but i thought it would be a nice change since i usually write from ileana’s #beatrich #rebecca das musical #daphne du maurier #one shot #short ficlet

[nicetrynicetry]

161

Sometimes I just text myself the words “you have all your ducks in a row” when I’m anxious about life’s admin: tax stuff, prescriptions, bills, sending stems to engineers. And this is before any actual creative output. A stranger dms me on Tuesday in response to mine and E’s music video release asking “how do u do it alllllll” and I feel seen on a deep level, because I do a lot and it takes a lot to do a lot. Every so often I live on the brink of hiring an assistant to help with the duller parts of existence, but I also believe in picking up one’s own slack. Life can’t just be making art and leaving others to clean up the mess that making art makes. Also I fear learned helplessness, the kind I see in old rich men who fall apart when someone on the payroll takes maternity leave. And lastly I have let some of V’s deep-seated mistrust rub off on me, and believe it’s just a matter of time until an employee of any kind embezzles company money. V still does all the gallery’s bookkeeping for exactly this reason. God bless her

On Tuesday afternoon I fuck and then un-fuck a painting, working past my usual hours until I feel satisfied enough to leave it overnight. I meditate before I go, and for every repetition of my mantra are three thoughts of D, who I don’t know if I’ve written about before. A self-appointed cultural critic, he fled London (where he was little more than a mediocre writer and drug user) for New York, to infiltrate a downtown scene that nobody outside of downtown New York itself cares about. His one gift is an ability to make people cringe both sides of the pond at the very mention of his name. He dated a girl who looks like his young teenage sister hoping she’ll buy him beer. He went to N’s birthday party this weekend and told her, with fake concern, that the turnout was both more scant and less high-caliber than her last birthday. As well as this unsolicited party analysis, he has also tasked himself with art market analysis. He takes a special interest, creepily enough, in the auction prices of young female painters. Not a quarter goes by where I’m not tagged in some story or post, based on a tweet by D, detailing how either my secondary market is flagging or my burgeoning secondary market is undeserved. Other bitter commentators weigh in, naturally, because their art careers didn’t work out. And D is right at home among them, commenting on women and their jobs and their birthdays. Envy’s a sin, D, you asshole

A calls twice in between his day’s appointments, angling his phone upwards to torture me with LA’s perfect blue sky. He just got his newest of four classic cars back from the shop, an 80s Range Rover from the U.K. now fitted with a Bluetooth speaker. He puts me on the seat while he drives to tennis and I tell him I miss him even though he is a petrol head and even though he has a gun. He explains a difficult professional relationship with a musician who recently took what they’d made together to another producer. It is the first time I’ve had an ounce of sympathy for anybody with A’s job title, and begin to wonder whether I should apply some of this sympathy to W while he works on my songs. Because music producers are people too! Allegedly

[hes-writer]

Trial (4)

Summary: harry and y/n face the truth

Warnings: angst, a tiny bit of fluff

Word Count: 4249 words

A/N: thank you so much for supporting this series !! @devilinbetweenthesheet-s. I will do the taglist later in the day :)

EDIT: idk why the ‘read more’ is not working. I apologize for the scrolling!!

Part 4 of the Tarnish series!

___

Harry was crying.

Admitting his feelings when he was younger was quite a task for him. Now that he was nearly in his thirties, the journey of being vulnerable with himself and with his feelings became easier with each emotion that he permitted himself to submerge in. Harry validated those emotions--he was allowed to experience them because it makes him human. It added texture to the ever-growing mosaic that painted who he was as an individual. Adding to the people that surrounded him, influenced by their kind-nature and the goodness of their heart to become who he was now.

And now, it seemed like his emotions increased tenfold. The clench of his abdomen and the harsh jolt of his chest forced his slouched shoulder to stay deflated. His breathing hitched as sobs threatened to take over, throat sore with the effort to keep it all in because Harry was smart enough to know that these emotions coursing through him right now were ones he wasn’t validated to feel. Paired with the latest information that that little girl being held by another man was his own daughter--and that the woman who was glowing with her caring, motherly-instincts was supposed to be his family; it broke him completely. 

Quaking thoughts circled his brain and punctured his muscles as if they were attacking him not only mentally, but physically as well in exchange for his past mistakes that he couldn’t quite place if he deeply regretted or not. Was it a mistake to cheat on Y/N? To leave her alone in the exposure of the public eye while she was carrying his child in her tummy? 

Harry should have known the day she fell sick and vomited in their kitchen sink. He was, sadly, too busy throwing a subdued celebration of finally having time alone with Camille. He should have noticed the way her face brightened with radiance. Or the way her cravings for strawberries and pickles either grossed her out or completely compelled her to consume more than she usually would. 

But Harry guessed that that was around the time his efforts went out the window because he didn’t have to pretend to care as much anymore. Camille appeared to be his one and only. With their relationship coming so close to being revealed and Y/N having one foot out the door, Harry let fate play out the rest. Don’t get him wrong, Harry still loved Camille; that was why his slashed heart still throbbed at the sight of her watching over her little cousin, yet knowing that the topic of children was still not a card on the table. 

The distress that he was feeling right now was core-shredding, heartbreaking grief that left a hole in his heart. The worst part was that Harry didn’t exactly know how to fix it or whether he even could. As he walked to his car with hands jammed into his pockets, he was grateful that the hood of his sweater hid his face and the tears sliding down the slope of his cheeks.

His senses were in overdrive, figuring out how to fix the mess he created. Wanting to run up to Y/N and ask her why she didn’t tell him, needing to feel his little girl in his arms. Pinching his skin to transfer the pain he felt in his heart because of the thought that he missed his baby’s first words, her first steps. Was it ‘dada’ that babbled out of her mouth? Did she reach out for Connor when she stumbled over nothing when she walked on stubby legs? Did Y/N mention his name to her?

“Harry!” 

He kept on walking despite the hushed call of his name, assuming that it was a fan that caught sight of him and wanted a picture. Harry adores them, but now is hardly the time to fake a smile or act like his life didn’t just flash right before his eyes--quite literally. 

The vehicle beeped as Harry pressed the ‘unlock’ button on his key fob, just about ready to pull the door open and shield himself from prying eyes. He flinched when a hand fell on his shoulder, “Harry,” 

He looked up to find Gemma panting, resting her hand on the roof of the car, “Are you. . .alright?” Her drifting eyes inspected his face, tinted a slight pink and moist with the salty liquid dripping from his tear ducts.

Huffing in annoyance, Harry clutched the handle to let himself in. Gemma followed his actions, shutting the door and locking it. The tinted windows of the car provided a semi-private enclosure that was filled with Harry’s sniffling and Gemma’s heavy breathing, trying to catch her breath. 

“H-her name is Halo,” Gemma began, gulping when Harry paused his ministrations, straining his ears to listen despite the dull thud occupying his vessels. “She’s almost two years old,”

“You said you didn’t know,” Harry’s gruff tone echoed. Gemma anxiously rubbed the ends of her palms against her jeans. “Why didn’t you tell me? You knew all this time and y’didn’t tell me,”

“I-I was--she didn’t want me--” 

“Why would she tell you and not me? I’m the one that dated her,” He raised his voice with every syllable he spoke. The frustration he felt from seeing the woman he once loved living the reality they shared together, except he wasn’t anywhere in the picture and that reality was only a fantasy in his life now. “It doesn’t make sense,” He rested his forearms on the wheel, facing the car’s symbol.

“The baby is yours, Harry,”

His head quipped with speed, grazing his forehead on the rounded leather but that pain didn’t amount to the new wave washing over him. “W-what?”

“It’s really not my place to tell,” Gemma said nervously, making eye contact with Harry’s searing yet teary gaze. “She wanted to tell you but you were so happy with Camille. She was posting these things on her Instagram about your trips and Y/N called me crying because you looked so free and happy without her. Y/N didn’t want to ruin what you guys had by dropping this on you,”

"That's-that's my baby?" Harry stuttered over his words while tugging his head out of his memories. Gemma nodded in confirmation. “Then why in the world was she--Halo?--calling him ‘dada’? 

“Look, Harry, you’re not stupid. You know why Halo called Connor her dad,” Gemma spoke slowly, “This is a conversation that you need to have with Y/N if she lets you,”

At the mention of the man’s name, Harry couldn’t help but be filled with anger. He barely knew this man yet he received everything that Harry wanted in life. ‘But she’s my kid. I’m her dad. I’m the one who’s supposed to give her kisses and make her laugh,” He mumbled quietly as if his inner thoughts were far too strong to be kept in his mind

He was staring mindlessly at the numbers on his dashboard, hands gripping the leather steering wheel to try and ground himself. "But if that's my baby, how can she call someone who's not her father, dad?" He whipped his head towards Gemma, searching for validation that would make him feel better but the siblings were aware that he lost that title three years ago. 

“I think you know you lost that place in their lives,” She reached a comforting hand to pat his arm, feeling just how tense he was under the fabric.

Harry shrugged her off, pinching his brows and pursing his lips as sadness began to swirl down the drain only to be replaced with resentment, irritation and bitterness. The taste on his tongue was hot with anger and his ears felt warm as he wheezed air instead of opting to yell his dissatisfaction near his sister. 

“This isn't fair. She's m’baby too. Connor is not her father,” He spat with venom, “I am,” A pointed finger poked his chest. "She knew she was pregnant when she left me. She’s so fuckin’ selfish. How could she do this to me? 

Gemma was quick to remind him of his actions, "You cheated on her, Harry.” Gemma cowered back at Harry’s beady eyes glaring at her with an unreadable emotion, stone-cold. “Maybe you should go home. Calm down a little bit,”

“No!” Harry cut Gemma off, “Need t’a hear her say it myself,” 

Harry didn’t know what his plan was when he harshly slammed the car door behind him, practically storming on the patches of grass like a mad man. It wasn’t hard to spot the picture-perfect family sitting on a park bench which brought a scowl to his shielded face. He wanted to give Y/N a piece of his mind and it wasn’t necessarily the nicest thoughts that crossed his brain. 

Halo was sitting on Connor’s lap while he was feeding her a peeled cupcake. Red velvet with cream cheese frosting—-Harry felt like he was punched in the gut. The baked good was Y/N’s specialty and it had a lot of sentimental value to both of them. It was what she baked for their first year together. He could vividly see her frosting-dotted nose, aiming to splotch the cream on his cheek while she laughed. Harry wrapped his arms around her, hugging Y/N from behind and proceeding to kiss her sweet cheek, leaving the perfect opportunity to stain his skin with the frosting. 

But he didn’t care if he was smashed headfirst into the cake (as long as it wasn’t ice cream cake)—Harry just wanted to see her smile and hear her laugh heartily. 

Y/N was snuggled on Connor’s shoulder, fixing Halo’s hair as she made grabby hands at the confection. He cannot lie--Connor was a handsome man. Harry rarely felt intimidated or insecure, but seeing that this man managed to snatch everything Harry could ever want seemingly in a blink of an eye; Harry felt very jealous. 

He pouted, eyes rimmed red and lips quivering wishing that Cory or Connor--whatever that little shit’s name was would disappear so that Harry could take his place instead. Actually, it was his spot in the first place. Only if he didn’t mess up, he thought. He missed Y/N so much! Seeing Y/N in her element of niceness and bright-gleaming smiles sent a truck full of sand down his throat as he gulped his emotion below the surface. The closer he got to them, his vision tunnelled towards Halo; brown, flouncy curls and a cute dimple embedded in her cheek as she giggled, accidentally knocking the cupcake on the ground.  

If that wasn’t symbolism staring at Harry straight in the face; a sign that their so-called relationship really had no chance of reprieve. Harry chose to ignore it.

Connor clutched Halo tightly against him, crouching down with a napkin to clean up the scattered cake on the ground. Y/N was the first to notice him, her forehead creasing as her eyes bulged at the sight of Harry walking towards them. She subtly poked at Connor’s arm, hurting Harry even more because it meant that Y/N felt uncomfortable with his presence. 

He was close enough to read her pink lips, “We should go,” matched with Y/N’s frantic actions of packing the juice boxes and the Tupperware of cupcakes into the tote bag beside her. Connor searched the park until his gaze landed on Harry, protectively shielding Halo from him. 

Is he serious? Harry thought. That’s my own daughter.

Speaking of Halo, the two-year-old happily continued munching on her new cupcake, frowning slightly when Connor stood up, “Why we leaving, Daddy? Did I do somethin’ bad?”

Y/N sighed, they promised that Halo could play at the park all day and now it was cut short because of a certain someone. 

“No, you didn’t, bub. Let Daddy explain at home, okay baby?” Connor hitched Halo higher on his hip, hoping that she wouldn’t ask any more questions until the trio left.

“Who’s that?” Halo asked, pointing at Harry only metres away from them. Her stubby finger outstretched at the stranger in front of her, eyes bright and sparkling with curiosity. There was no sign of recognition painting her green orbs. 

Harry gulped, wanting so badly to scream “I’m your dad!” but he knew that Y/N will add that to the list of his mistakes he had made. 

“No one, angel,” Connor planted a kiss on her head, looking over at Y/N who had finished packing everything up. He tilted his chin in an attempt to scare Harry off.

But the thing was, Harry was already scared. He could feel his stomach in his throat but vomiting wasn’t the right word to describe it. His heart drooped deeper than the levels of the Earth. He was scared because his family was right in front of him but he couldn’t touch them or hug them in his arms. He was only allowed to look from the outside because there was a small possibility of being forgiven.

“Y/N. . .” Harry began hesitantly. The surge of confidence he had decreased with each passing second. He kept a close eye.

Y/N shrugged the strap on her shoulder, “Leave us alone, Harry.”

He felt his anger disappearing, a new emotion cascading his tear ducts and the blood in his veins. Harry looked back in retrospect; she really did mean it when Y/N said that she never wanted him around again. “I just want to talk. Please, let’s talk,”

“She doesn’t want to talk to you, Harry,”  Connor interrupted, grabbing the bag from Y/N and wrapping an arm over her shoulder, guiding them away from Harry. “She’s happy without you, mate. can’t you see?”

Harry kept his gaze trained on Y/N’s face, actively avoiding eye contact but drifted when Halo’s frown caught his stare. The little girl’s chin was hooked over Connor’s shoulder, squirming in his arms in an attempt to stop him from walking. Halo was smart enough to know that Harry’s expression screamed sadness and her mummy said that “you need to find a way to make them happy” if someone was sad.

“Wait!” Her shrill yell caused both Connor and Y/N to turn around. A piece of Harry’s heart shattered on the floor when Halo pulled Connor down by the nape of his neck, small hand leading his ear next to her lips. Then, she did the same to Y/N, pointing at Harry which caused him to straighten his stance, wanting to impress his daughter even though there was no point.

The couple shared a look before ultimately having Connor walk closer to Harry. Halo gripped her cupcake towards him, “‘ere y’go hawwy,’ She still couldn’t pronounce her ‘r’s’ yet. 

Harry began to sob. 

It was his daughter and those were the first words she had uttered to him. She didn’t know him yet Halo treated him with kindness and it ripped at his chest because Y/N must’ve taught her that. His palms became wet as tears streamed from his eyes, dampening the sleeves of his hoodie. He didn't care about looking foolish in front of them, not when his daughter saw him as a stranger and called Connor her ‘dada’. 

Halo recoiled at the sudden reaction, her lips curving downwards, “Dada, mama, he’s cwyin’,” She tucked her face at the junction of Connor’s shoulder and neck, scared that she made him cry. Halo didn’t mean to make him cry. She felt so guilty that she started spilling tears of her own too, her face contorting into a scrunched expression as her mouth wailed open sobs, matching Harry’s. 

Harry’s first instinct was to take a step forward and comfort Halo but he was rendered frozen when Connor shot him a glare, shifting Halo’s body out of reach and he could only see her face over the man’s shoulder. Y/N dimmed her eyes, brows pinching when she couldn’t help but let a smidge of sympathy wash over her. She muttered a few words to Connor, pushing him by the small of his back towards the parking lot. 

When they were out of earshot, Y/N faced Harry, “What were you thinking? Are you trying to mess everything up again?” He tried to cut in, “Isn’t it bad enough that we’re talking about this in public? Why must you ruin everything, Harry?” She whisper-shouted, trying her best not to garner them any attention. 

“N-no, Gemma told me and I jus’ wanted to see her--and you. Wanted to hear the truth come out of your mouth,” His large hands jammed into his pockets to prevent him from fiddling with them. 

“Look, you have no right coming here,”

“I know that b-but I--,”

She held a palm up, “I’m not sadistic like you Harry. If you thought that I wouldn’t let you around her then you’re wrong. As much as I hate to admit it, I do miss you and I wish that you were there for us when we needed you,”

“I had no idea--,”

“Will you let me speak?” Her tone carried irritation. “But we’re alright now and we don’t need you anymore.”

Harry never thought that those statements would ever come out of Y/N’s mouth. “Don’t you think I deserve to get to know her?” 

She sighed, “Deserve? Definitely not.” He nodded in agreement. “But I’d live in regret if Halo never got to know her real father. . .”

Harry’s expression lit up, hopeful eyes shooting glances at her, “D-does that mea--? Are you--?”

“You can see her. You can get to know her but only because you’re Halo’s father,” Y/N took a brave step forward, ignoring the way her heart throbbed as if she was being stabbed by a thousand knives. Painful memories drifted in and out of her train of thought until she shook her head to muster them out. It was in the past but she could never forget the feeling of hopelessness taking over her whole body. 

With a hand on his shoulder, she continued, “Anyone can be a father and you’re just that. Don’t think that you’re entitled to anything more. You will never be her dad. Connor is. Understood?”

Harry took a deep breath and swallowed a heavy gulp, “I. . .understand. Thank you, Y/N. For letting me back in when I don’t deserve it,” He glanced at the two tiny figures piling in the car. He could just imagine himself plucking little Halo into her booster seat, booping her nose as she asked for the hundredth time why she had to sit at the back and not at the front with them. 

“I’m not finished,” She deadpanned, “You are going to be there for her. Not for me, not for us because our relationship is over. You can hurt me as you did before and I can accept it but don’t you dare try to hurt her,” 

And it was true. Having endured his painful game once before, Y/N was stronger now. She could take heartbreak as agonizing as that but she wouldn’t dare stand seeing Halo’s teary eyes staring back at her, asking why Harry had left them. She was far too young to experience the feeling when a piece of herself is ripped apart. 

“I won’t hurt her. I promise,”

“I heard those words come out from your mouth years ago and look where we are now. Once you hurt her, it’s over.”

“Y/N, t-that’s hardly fair. I am her dad, aren’t I?” Harry cleared his throat at Y/N’s raised brow.

“No, you’re not. We just went through this, Harry.”

“Don’t call me that,” He muttered quietly because she only ever called him ‘baby’ or ‘h’.

“Will you stop? I laid out my cards. If you want to even have a speck of presence in her life, then you have to abide by what I said,” She crossed her arms in defence, “You will never be Halo’s dad, Harry. Connor is her dad. I don’t know how many more times I have to repeat this before it gets through you thick head,”

He opened his mouth to talk, “No wiggle room whatsoever?”

“No. Do I have to write a letter for you to understand that?”

In a moment of hurt and despair, Harry spat out, “Might as well, yeah? Waited over two years to tell me anyway,”

“Are you kidding me?”

His throat ran dry, realizing that he just ticked another box to favour against being a part of his daughter’s life, “I-I’m sorry. I didn't mean to,”

“Whatever. Are you willing to make the sacrifice?”

“This isn’t the place to talk about this,” Harry suggested, wanting to have some sort of foot on the ground so he doesn’t feel like he’s topping over with guilt and sadness. “Maybe you can come over to my house,”

Y/N shook her head, glancing briefly at her phone when it buzzed, “No. I will not step foot in that house again. If you really want to discuss it, you can come over at our place,”

“Your place?” Did they all live together? Well, that was another slap to the face. Not only was Connor playing dad to Halo, but he was also part of the household. Harry’s face must have contorted into a grimace because Y/N sighed softly. 

“Yes, our place. Meaning all three of us,” She gestured behind her. “I have to go. You can probably get my number from Gemma; you can text me then.”

“Yes, yes! Of course, I want to talk to you. . . about this, I mean,” Harry lowered his enthusiasm. The small voice in his head reverberating that this was not about him and Y/N; this was about Halo. 

“And make sure you don’t bring anyone else,” Y/N said sarcastically, subtly pointing in the direction of the paparazzi hiding behind some bushes. Harry was usually good at spotting them but today was just a puddle of hurt and confusion. “I don’t want her having to read nasty things like I did,”

What Y/N said may have been a side comment, but Harry couldn’t help but take it to heart. Was this a good idea? Sure, he wanted to be a present dad in Halo’s life. However, is it worth it to stir unwanted drama? If only he didn’t cheat on Y/N, all of this could have been avoided. 

With his mind in a haze, Harry barely noticed Y/N’s figure moving away from him. He jogged to catch up with her, laying a gentle hand on her shoulder. Harry felt numb to the way she shrugged her touch off of her immediately, “Were you ever going to tell me about our daughter?’

Y/N stared at him quizzically, tilting her head a little bit sideways, “I thought I did? Wait!” A look of recognition plastered across her features, “I did try to tell you but you blocked me before the message sent through,”

Harry gulped with realization. He blearily remembered  bitterly blocking her number just as she texted “I need to tell you something,”

___

Y/N: Since you’re not picking up my calls

I need to tell you something

Y/N took a deep breath as her thumbs tapped on the letters slowly as if to withhold the news from him. She was not at all ready to reveal that she was pregnant and that he was the father but Y/N knew that it was the right thing to do. Despite the fact that he was currently out of the country on vacation somewhere on an island with sandy beaches with Camille. Y/N was aware that this spike of courage was rare and so, she had to do it now.

Y/N: I’m pregnant

And you’re the father

She locked the device as soon as she pressed the arrow to send the message, clutching the phone close to her chest and shutting her eyes so tightly that it hurt. Minutes passed with no response and Y/N was shouldered by curiosity to check if he had sent anything back or simply left her on ‘seen’. 

It was neither. The screaming red exclamation mark surrounded by a circle indicated that she had been blocked. 

___

The times when she left missed calls on his phone were for a reason much bigger than the two of them. Y/N didn’t call to beg for him back or to ask Harry to want her again. He was ashamed to admit that he had rolled his eyes upwards every time he clicked on a voicemail she had left, stating, “Hey H, it’s me. Call me back when you hear this. I need to talk to you,” which he deleted without a second thought. She didn’t text him endlessly to politely ask for her things packed and settled for her pick-up because Y/N could not bear to spend another second in a room with him.

It wasn’t that at all. 

Y/N was physically moving farther and farther away from him, settling herself into the car before driving off to hers and Connor’s shared house. Halo sat in the backseat, singing along to the radio.

Harry was surrounded amidst the joyful squeals of children and reprimanding voices of their parents.

He stood alone with no one but loneliness by his side and the brisk flash of cameras in his peripherals.

_____

Let me know what you thought!

———

Permanent Taglist: @splendidsunsetx @swagmoneymaya @textingharry @arypesanchez @theresthingsthatwellneverknow @mellamolayla @luviewoo

#harry styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles writing #harry styles x you #harry styles blurb #harry styles drabble #harry styles fanfic #harry styles series #harry styles angst #harry styles x y/n

[ticklystuff]

Liquid Eyeliner

A/N: i know nothing about makeup lol i just wanted lee!Zhongli

Word Count: 2k

“I really like this color on you.”

“Hu Tao was actually the one that chose it for me,” Zhongli said, giving a slight smile to the other as he looked straight ahead, doing his best not to shift his head or move his facial muscles around too much. Normally, he would be applying the eyeliner under his eyes himself, but for some reason, Childe insisted on doing it this time for him. He wasn’t exactly comfortable about letting Childe put the brush so close to his eye, but the ginger had insisted and Zhongli wasn’t one to say no, especially since Childe bought the eyeliner for him earlier.

“I can tell you’re worried,” Childe said, pulling his hand back and giving the other a small pout.

Zhongli shook his head and gave the other a nervous smile. “Not at all. Just make sure you do it properly.”

“I’ve actually had some practice before,” Childe told the other as he brought his hand back, placing the tip of the brush right under Zhongli’s eye.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, my sister used to ask me to do make up with her when I was younger. I always tried to make her look like a circus clown,” Childe chuckled, keeping his hand steady. “She’d practice on me all the time too and she actually got quite good. I even let her paint my finger and toe nails.”

Zhongli smiled as he listened to Childe reminisce. Childe loved to tell Zhongli different stories about his siblings and Zhongli always caught the happiness in his voice when he spoke of his siblings. Childe always talked about having his siblings meet him and Zhongli looked forward to that day.

“Hmm,” Childe took a step back to examine his work. “I think I might have smudged it a little bit. I think I should just restart. Let me grab a wet napkin.”

“Water won’t remove it,” Zhongli told the other. “The media is oil-based, so the eyeliner is insoluble in water. I have a bottle of sweet flower oil in the drawer next to you that I use to wash the eyeliner off at night.”

Childe nodded and headed for the old drawer in Zhongli’s room. He opened the top drawer and couldn’t help but smile when he found the cologne he had purchased for Zhongli, the bottle half full. It was one of the many gifts that he had gotten for Zhongli during their multiple date nights in Liyue.

He rummaged around the top drawer for a good minute, before moving to the second drawer, making sure not to disturb the neat and orderly way Zhongli had placed his belongings. Thankfully, the bottle was in plain sight in the second drawer, with a piece of cloth conveniently placed beside it. He grabbed the two items before heading back to the older man, pouring a little of the solution onto the cloth and handing it to Zhongli.

“Maybe I should just do it myself,” Zhongli said as he did his best to wipe away the eyeliner, chuckling when Childe put his hands on his hips in defiance.

“I’ve already committed,” Childe told the other as he grabbed the thin brush before Zhongli could. “I’ll just steady my hand this time.”

“Alright, alright.” Zhongli sat back on his mattress, relaxing himself as Childe attempted once more.

Childe leaned in once more and brought the brush to Zhongli’s face again, but this time grabbed Zhongli’s shoulder firmly to help steady himself. This caught the older man by surprise, though, and Childe nearly jumped back in concern when Zhongli suddenly squealed.

“Sorry! Did I hurt you?!”

“No, I’m alright,” Zhongli affirmed to the other as he regained his posture. “Just caught me off guard.”

Childe looked at Zhongli with a puzzled expression. “Is there something wrong with your shoulder?”

Zhongli simply shook his head. “I’m alright. I’m not sure what came over me, but I’m fine.”

Childe nodded in response. He brought the brush back over to Zhongli’s face and brought his hand back to Zhongli’s shoulder, slowly this time, for balance. He carefully traced the brush under the amber eyes. He bit his lips and furrowed his eyebrows as he concentrated on the task before him, something that Zhongli found to be quite endearing.

“Alright,” Childe muttered as he reached the corner of Zhongli’s eyes, pulling the brush away to take a look at his handiwork, his hand still on Zhongli’s shoulder. “I don’t think it’s that bad, if I do say so myself.”

Zhongli gave Childe a small smile as the other beamed over his work. “I’ll judge for myself. There should be a hand mirror in the drawer that you- Ah! H-Hey!”

Zhongli’s body cringed as he felt Childe squeeze his shoulder multiple times, his arms coming up in self-defense when Childe repeated the action. He looked up at the ginger to see a mischievous smirk plastered over Childe’s face, one that usually meant Childe was up to no good.

“Looks like Mr. Zhongli might be ticklish,” Childe teased, his smile growing wider when Zhongli began to stutter.

“I-I don’t- Wait! Ajax!”

Childe had pushed Zhongli back onto the mattress and straddled his waist, looming over the other with wiggly fingers ready for an attack. Zhongli never used his real name, unless he was irritated with Childe, but this was too good of an opportunity for Childe to pass up now. He’s already used to being berated from Zhongli on a constant basis anyway.

“Ahahaha! Childe!” Zhongli squealed as Childe brought his fingers menacingly to the older man’s underarms. Since he was in the comfort of his own home, Zhongli only had a thin t-shirt for protection, the shockwaves traveling from his armpits and hitting his brain like a wave.

Zhongli wasn’t going down without a fight and Childe constantly had to keep swatting away his arms, making it hard for him to tickle the older man consistently. Naturally, the ginger adapted to Zhongli’s defense mechanism and focused on his sides this time, giving each spot rabid jabs, one after the other in quick succession. This caused Zhongli to wiggle back and forth, attempting to avoid the alternating blows to his sides. Each poke resulted in a gasp or whine filled with husky giggles, something Childe considered music to his ears and only drove him to pick up the pace. He had never heard Zhongli laugh so much and it was quite addictive, so he figured

“Y’know, I used to tickle my siblings all the time,” Childe recalled as he began focusing on Zhongli’s hips, smiling as he found another good spot. “If any one of them ever felt down, they could always expect a visit from their friendly neighborhood tickle monster!”

“Ahahahaha! Chihihilde!” Zhongli wailed as Childe continuously pinched his hips methodically, his laughter drowning out whatever Childe was saying to him in the moment.

The only time he had ever been tickled was whenever Hu Tao needed his attention and it was only ever a short poke to his side. Not only was Childe much more aggressive, he was also much more skilled. Every poke and scribble elicited a new stream of laughter and his attempts at dislodging Childe were proving futile. He felt Childe’s hands moving over to his stomach, which renewed Zhongli’s efforts to squirm away. By chance, one of his flailing hands jabbed Childe in the side, pausing the tickling as Childe squeaked and involuntarily protected the sensitive spot with his hands. Zhongli used this brief moment of respite to try and push away from Childe, but the ginger recovered almost immediately.

“Hmm, this used to work on Teucer, so I wonder if it’ll be the same for you,” Childe thought out loud as he eyed Zhongli’s stomach. His shirt had ridden up just slightly to expose the well-toned abs and bare tummy, which only enticed Childe to try a different technique. “Heh, don’t kill me, okay?

“W-Wait! Childe w-what are you— NohohoHOHOHOHOHO!”

Zhongli flopped around on the bed and kicked his legs as Childe blew a raspberry into his stomach. The unfamiliar technique brought tears to the corners of Zhongli’s eyes as Childe repeated the action over and over. The sensation created such a strange feeling that made Zhongli’s mind feel like mush. He didn’t even try fighting back anymore as Childe sent one more his way, before stopping when he noticed Zhongli’s laughter had turned into silent wheezing.

Childe raised his head from Zhongli’s stomach to make sure the other was okay, taking in the sight of the older man. Zhongli’s face was bright red and his eyes were still screwed shut, with his mouth agape as he panted for air. His normally well-kempt hair was a mess and there were even a few tear streaks. When Childe felt he was staring too long, he lightly diddled his fingers along Zhongli’s bare stomach, causing Zhongli to gasp and open his eyes.

“Oh, hey, your eyeliner still looks good,” Childe said as he brought a finger to Zhongli’s eye to wipe away a stray tear.

“I already told you it’s not soluble in water,” Zhongli told the other curtly after catching his breath, looking away from the other as he spoke. It wasn’t easy to embarrass Zhongli, but he could feel his cheeks burning up after the ordeal Childe put him through.

“Hey, don’t be mad at me,” Childe awkwardly laughed as he lifted himself off of Zhongli and helped him up. “Couldn’t help myself.”

Zhongli sat up and fixed his clothes with a sigh, pushing his long hair behind his shoulders. “I’d hate to be one of your siblings, to be quite frank.”

“Maybe, but being my sibling comes with so many pros!” Childe said, smiling at the other as Zhongli rolled his eyes. “Speaking of which, we haven’t gotten to your other eye.”

“I wonder why,” Zhongli huffed sarcastically as Childe picked up the brush again. He crossed his arms as Childe brought the brush to his face, but he let Childe apply the lining to his eye like before, flinching when Childe put his hand against his shoulder again for balance.

“Don’t worry,” Childe chuckled, finishing up the liner. He pulled back the brush and used his other hand to lift Zhongli’s chin so that he could get a better look at his work. “Looks great!”

“Well, this took almost three times as long as it normally takes me,” Zhongli said as Childe went to get the hand mirror from the drawer. He took the mirror from Childe and examined the eyeliner. It was a little messy, but it wasn’t that bad.

“So, how did I do?”

Zhongli looked up to see Childe giving his usual charming smile and Zhongli couldn’t help but return a small smile back. “One could say it’s passable.”

Childe couldn’t help but cheer at the small win. “You should let me do your makeup all the time, Zhongli.”

“Perhaps,” Zhongli sighed, the thought of possibly going through another tickle session with Childe daunting to him. “Next time, though, how about we try some eyeliner on you?”

“I-I mean sure, I guess,” Childe said hesitantly, scratching the back of his head. “I’m not sure it’d look good on me the way it does for you and I’m not sure what my color would be.”

“Well, we can always go shopping for some later,” Zhongli suggested. “Why don’t I show how to apply it properly, though. We can use the one that I have.”

“N-Now?”

“Why not?”

“O-Okay,” Childe said nervously as he sat down, switching places with Zhongli. “Hey, you’re not still mad at me, right?”

“Of course not,” Zhongli said firmly, grabbing a fresh brush from his drawer before returning to Childe. “I want to show you how it’s properly done. Tickles and all.”

“Wait what? W-Wait ZhonglihihiHIHI!”

#Chili #childe #zhongli #genshin impact #tickling

[samstrugglingwithlife]

S/O Loses A Bet Against A Child And Has To Dress Up

Genre: Fluff

Warning: None? Did they swear?

Characters: Tsukishima, Akaashi

A/N: Ayye!!! Finally! This has been rotting away in my drafts while I was busy being sulky and sad. I haven’t proofread it or anything. It’s not my best work and I am truly sorry for that. Nonetheless, I hope reading this doesn’t waste your time in the very least.

TSUKISHIMA

 Your tired and in need of a vacation cousin begged you to watch her kids on the weekend so she could get some much-needed rest and some quality time with her husband.

You felt sorry for the poor woman and promised to let her two kids stay at your and Tsukki's shared apartment. You completely forgot about your promise and forgot to tell your boyfriend about the weekend plan until Friday night, just two hours before your cousin dropped her kids off at your doorstep.

"Kei~" you sang out his name in feigned innocence. He looked at you from his spot on the sofa with a raised brow. You gulped and nervously padded towards him, taking a seat right next to him and cutely wrapping your arms around his bicep, batting your eyelashes.

Tsukki rolls his eyes and turns towards you, "Y/n, what the hell did you do?"

"Why do you think I did something?!" you say indignantly. Tsukki raises his brows as if to say, 'did you really just ask me that?'

You pout but grin, "Anyway, my cousin's dropping her kids off in about an hour".

"Y/n!" "For the whole weekend". "Y/n!!"

So here you were, on a Saturday morning entertaining the kids as you made breakfast. The sound of their shrill laughter ringing through your apartment.

Tsukishima came out of your shared bedroom, still in his nightwear. He watched as you made the kids holler with laughter with your crazy antics. "I bet I can catch this peanut in my mouth," you wager. "No way!" the young boy giggles. "I can do it!" you argued. "No you can't!" his little sister insisted. 

"Bet," you declare. "If I catch this in my mouth," you start showing the kids a small peanut, "then you guys will do whatever I say, deal?" 

"If you lose you will do whatever we say!" the kids countered. You grin and offer your hand to shake, "Deal".

Tsukishima rolled his eyes, "Don't go teaching kids about betting at such a young age, dummy". He stands next to you as you roll your eyes.

You get in position for the task. Tsukishima smirks schemingly. You throw the peanut up in the air and open your mouth to catch it. You almost do catch it, but Tsukki nudges you, and it misses your mouth and falls right onto the ground.

"Kei!" "Oh no! You lost Y/n, whatever will you do now?" Tsukishima says with feigned, exaggerated sympathy.

You glare at your boyfriend as the kids cheer in the background about how much fun they will have 'dressing you up' as a princess-knight. Tsukki leans close to you with a smirk, "That's for not telling me beforehand, Miss Princess-Knight".

Cut to a few hours later, your sitting on the cold floor of your living-room as the kids assault your face with paint, glitter and make-up. Meanwhile, Tsukki is sat comfortably on the couch, watching your face transform and snickering silently.

"Hey, put more glitter on her face, right there," he encourages the little girl while pointing at your nose. Your niece picks up the little pot of green glitter and dusts your nose until it is sparkling. "Looking great Y/n!" Tsukki mocks. 

You roll your eyes and mouth a cuss word at him, he just winks at you.

The two of you tuck the kids in bed in your guestroom, later that night. As soon you shut the door, your shoulders slump and you lean against the door. 

Tsukishima chuckles, "You know, it's good training for the future". You look up at your boyfriend, confused, "W-what?"

Tsukishima simply smirks and walks away towards the bedroom. "Kei! What did you just say?" 

AKAASHI

You knew that your little sister was a nightmare, but Akaashi didn't need to know that. 

"But mom!" you whined as you followed her around the house while she got ready. "Y/n, this is an important meeting, I have to go," your mother reasoned. You whine again and stomp your feet.

"Mom, I have a date with Keiji!" you cry out. Your mom sighs and half-glares at you, "So call him over, you two can watch your sister together". "Mooommm!!!"

"Sorry Keiji, I know you really wanted to go to the book fair..." you apologise. Your boyfriend smiles and shakes his head, "It's okay. I still get to spend time with you..." he looks down at your younger sister clinging onto his leg and looking up at him with sparkling, awestruck eyes, "... and your sister..." 

I'm not gonna go into the detail of what and how you lost the bet against your little sister. She's just a little devil and you fell right into her trap, and without knowing any better your boyfriend dived right in with you.

"I'm gonna make you look so pretty!" you sister squealed as she powdered your face with a bright pink blush. You sighed and slumped your shoulder, "I give up, do whatever you want". Akaashi smiled and patted your back, "It's not that bad," he tells you as he is covered in colourful accessories from head to toe.

"There all done!" the little girl claps her hand in satisfaction as she steps back and gives her handiwork a quick look. She frowns at you and you raise your brows, "What? What's wrong?" you ask.

"I think I did my best but you don't look pretty at all". You gawk at your sister and then growl in anger as you get up from your position and attempt to chase that little tyke, "Why you little-" but Akaashi holds you back, wrapping his arms around your waist. "Y/n, she's just a kid. I think you look great," he smiles at you.

It was great that your mom came home early, you could finally spend some alone time with your boyfriend. The two of you hung out on the rooftop for the remainder of the day.

"Sorry about my sister, she's a handful," you apologise. Akaashi shakes his head, "It's fine. I had fun". You squint your eyes at him, "You don't have to say that, don't force yourself," you reply.

"I really did have fun Y/n," he says and smiles at you. The two of you watch the night sky in comforting silence. You sigh as you lean back against the railing and watch the sky, "Jesus, I am never letting our kid near make up..."

If Akaashi heard you he didn't show it, but the smile and the faint blush on his face said otherwise.

#haikyuu #haikyuu!! #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu imagines #Tsukishima #Tsukishima Kei #Tsukishima x reader #Akaashi #Akaashi Keiji #Akaashi x Reader #Tsukishima Imagines #Akaashi Imagines

[bandaigaeru]

gravitational pull - seo changbin

→genre: brief fake dating, childhood friends to weird enemies to fake lovers to real lovers →synopsis: he was a glimmering star of hope until he exploded, suspending your relationship into a seesawing gravity. →pairing: changbin x gender neutral reader →word count: 8.1k →warnings: hyunjins kinda mean at one point, mentions of alcohol

i.

Mulch crunches beneath the adolescent shoes of your classmates. One intention is shared, in this playground warfare, and it’s to get a swing.

You disregard the heap rushing towards the ones closest, for your gaze is set on the far end of the swingset. And it is just within your reach. Your eyes narrow as you outstretch a palm, prepared to feel the coolness of the rusty chain.

The chain sways away from you beneath the harsh touch of another boy.

You stare at him with wide eyes, mouth fallen agape.

He smiles, the plastic seat dipping beneath his weight. “This one’s mine.”

A small shake in your tone as you return, “I was here first.”

“So? Everyone knows this is my swing.”

You slowly nod, taking small footsteps backwards. Hwang Hyunjin is bigger than you. And more accustomed with goons of friends. There’s no point in fighting.

Though as you start for the abandoned monkey bars (their vibrant red paint chipped to a sad haze) with blurry vision faulting your path, a voice booms over the rush between your ears.

You glance in the direction. A short boy sits in a stationary swing, smiling as though it is all he’s ever known. He waves you over.

Taking all of the precautions, you glance over your shoulder to make sure he’s talking to you. When you confirm, you drag your feet along the mulch.

You flinch when he stands, bringing guarding forearms to protect your face. The blow never comes.

“You can take my swing,” he says. You peek at him through your shield. His puffy cheeks are still indented with the smile. And his hands, not balled into a fist, lay calmly at his side.

You blink, slowly lowering your defense. “W-Why?”

He laughs, “That’s what friends are for. Duh.”

The laugh that trembles over your lips is shaky and foreign. You reach for the chain.

“I’ll push you!” he declares, rushing behind you as you steady yourself in the small seat.

He pulls you from the ground, the tips of your shoes trailing back amber woodchips.

The tip of your nose kisses the blue sky. Though, inevitably, the time comes when you must fall back to the earth. Steady hands push against your back, returning you to freedom. You find yourself grinning each time.

The next day, Changbin saves you the swing beside him. He waits until you are ready before kicking off on the ground. You swing in sync, sharing a few glances under the sun’s hugging rays.

It only takes a week before he’s begging his mother to arrange a playdate. And to your luck, he follows through with the promises, meeting you at your doorstep that Saturday. He guides you a block over to his house. He must be a good kid if his mother entrusted him with such a task, bringing two first-graders over. One returning home and one in need of a home away from home.

His mother is extremely nice, smiling at you each time you catch her eyes. She sets a plate of fruit on the coffee table while you and Changbin battle over the next Spongebob episode. His sister comes out of her room, too, asking you whether you prefer Barbies or Matchbox.

Elementary school passes like this. Recess is spent with his presence, as is lunch and gym and any class freetime. On the off days that it rains, barring you inside the school, you play Mancala. It’s totally civil. Not once does Changbin storm off when he loses. He merely shrugs and offers to set up the next round.

So unusual, though each time you find yourself smiling.

After an emotional graduation party—emotional for the teachers and family, you mean—he hands you a small piece of paper.

“What’s this?” you curiously look at him. His tie has loosened since the ceremony and his hair is ruffled by his father’s hand.

“My phone number. I won’t be in town this summer, but I still wanna keep touch with you.”

You smile down at the small digits. Neatly, you fold the post-it before slipping it into your pocket. You wrap your arms around his neck, leaning into his touch as he wraps his arms around your waist. “I’m gonna miss you,” you announce, voice muffled by his shoulder.

“It’s only one summer,” he reassures. “Plus, I’ll bring you back something nice. A keychain or something.”

You laugh through the sting that stabs your body, nodding. One summer cannot mark the end of the world, you tell yourself as you watch his car drift over the hill leading into town.

ii.

On the first, dreaded, day of middle school, you scan the halls carefully. The new faces do not scare you as much as the lack of his does. Each call was sent to voicemail. And each time the dial sounded, you frantically returned the phone to the receiver. Maybe he had accidentally miswrote the number. Or maybe he was too busy to return your calls. Summer has that effect on people, you think, where you have so much fun you forget the things you used to do daily. Like a memory disorder.

You finally see him in the lunch line. A breath of fresh air invades your lungs as you rush over to him.

“Changbin! How was your summer? I called, but you never answered,” you grin, nudging his shoulder.

He does not shoot you a glance, nor does he send a glare. Instead, he keeps his eyes glued on his shoes. A sharp pain strikes your chest—that breath might have been poison.

You gently shove his shoulder again, forcing a shaky laugh as you continue, “Hello? Anyone in there?”

The boy in front of him spins on his heel. His eyes are cold, painful, as they meet yours. “Can’t you tell he doesn’t wanna talk to you?” Hyunjin scoffs. “Go somewhere else, dumbass.”

Hesitantly, you look to Changbin. Surely, he’ll defend you, right?

Right?

His eyes have traveled to the lunch menu, displayed on a TV in cheap font. Far away from this conversation.

You nod, looking back to Hyunjin. His abrasive eyes are still waiting for you, eagerly begging you to move on. “Sorry, then,” you murmur as you start for the bathroom that will become your haven.

Behind you, Hyunjin’s loud laugh taunts you. Hidden beneath it is a quieter one that stabs you in the chest. Something painful blurs your vision, twists your insides, and curls the corners of your lips as you try to fight it.

You were a fool to think he was different. Elementary promises should never be trusted.

Secondary school passes in dreary blinks. Watching Changbin run for class president. Bubbling in his name despite everything. Hearing Changbin got the lead role in Cinderella. Showing up despite the physics test you had to study for.

You wonder momentarily if Newton was behind this twisted feeling in your chest. Drawing you to him—like a moth to a flame. You even scan his sister’s Instagram from time to time, finding a picture of Changbin framed carefully beneath the stars, a twinkle in his eye.

You watch from afar as he accepts his diploma, a careful smile seated on your lips.

A bitter taste haunts your tongue as you pack for college.

“This is good for me,” you mutter to yourself. “I’ll be far, far away from him. I can move on.”

Some things are better left unsaid.

iii.

Awkward introductions replay in your memory as you get ready for your first college class. Seven fifteen, physics with Professor Kim. Denoted as one of the best in the country. Physicist and professor, respectively. It would be a lie to say he didn’t take part in your decision to attend this college. And the ocean, which is only a fifteen minute walk (that’s what the RA told you when you moved in).

You arrive with a hot americano precisely on time.

As you climb the lecture hall’s steps, your eyes drift among the sea of unfamiliar faces. One in particular sticks out—a glimmer of hope among the trenches. You raise a hand to wave, a smile quirking your lips. But, at the face directly next to him, you drift back.

Evidently, you didn’t move far enough.

You stand at the edge of the aisle, glancing down at the empty seat. “Hey, is this spot empty?”

Hope looks back at you with shock glazing his features. “Oh my God, Y/N! Of course. I didn’t know you decided to come here,” Minho smiles, tugging his notebook closer to allow you more room.

You pull out the chair, glancing at the boy on the other side of him. “I didn’t really tell anyone where I was going.”

He fills the silence with his tales of life, occasionally glancing at Changbin to see if he wants to add something. Each time, he is met with the boy’s indifferent profile. Mindlessly scrolling through his phone, though not once stopping to read one of the passing captions or like a picture.

Professor Kim claps, fizzling any remaining conversation. The syllabus fades in your mind as you wonder how Changbin’s summer went. Maybe he spent it with his sister. Or perhaps he accompanied a love interest to a string of dates.

This thought shoots a concoction of contradicting emotions through your heart. You return distracted eyes to Professor Kim just as he’s dismissing class, burying a content fist into the customly tailored pocket of his navy suit. Minho turns to you immediately, filling your ears with proposals to coffee and lunch and maybe you could come to the dorm later and catch up. Changbin’s ears perk up as he begs for Minho’s eyes.

For a split second, his eyes fall on you before they dart away.

“I need to get back to my dorm,” you announce when you can finally slip into Minho’s breaths of pause. “My roommate’s waiting.”

“Who’s your roommate? Maybe we know him.”

You fight a laugh when he finally glances back at Changbin, who has long since given up. “His name’s Yang Jeongin.”

iv.

While Minho is overly focused on you, begging you to tell him what happened after he moved in tenth grade, Changbin pretends you do not exist. When the conversations trail outside of the lecture hall, he clings to Minho’s side but does not speak. His eyes stay glued to the sidewalk. Or his textbook, whose cover he seems very invested in.

So when Professor Kim announces a project, your heart thumps a little too fast.

Minho grabs your arm, “Be my partner?”

Changbin kicks his leg. “Dude.”

He glances back at him, as though nothing he has said goes against him. “What? Just join our group.”

Changbin’s eyes find yours reluctantly. They ignite a spark in your fingertips as you reach for a pen. “Can I?”

You smile as your head twitches in a nod. “Of course.”

The plan is this: meet at the library on October 15th (a Saturday, you realize) at 1 P.M. “Expect to be there long, I wanna get this done ASAP,” Minho adds as he downs the rest of your americano.

When the day finally comes, despite your daily prayers that time would somehow freeze or somehow skip over the day, you leave your dorm right when you need to. Early October aids a brusque breeze, and you wrap your jacket around you as you approach the small crosswalk. Your phone buzzes in your pocket, and you dread the inevitable message.

Lee Minho [12:59 P.M.]: Sorry guys, I can’t make it. Mama Lee’s in town and wants to see her favorite son.

It’s too late to go home, you realize, when shoes scrape against the cement and a sigh penetrates the silence. “I cannot stand him,” the voice mutters behind you.

You turn to him, offering pitied condolences with a small smile. “Just the two of us, huh?”

He nods. “Guess so.”

A loud hum draws closer as his foot leans down for the asphalt. You look to the source, seeing a red car barreling down the street. You gasp, grabbing Changbin’s sleeve and tugging him back on the sidewalk. The horn echoes in the back of your head like an alarm.

His eyes are wide when they find yours. “T-Thank you,” he stutters, cocking his head a little. As though, for the first time, he is taking in your appearance.

You realize your grip is still tight on his wrist and you let go, tensing up. “You’re welcome.”

In the library, you work in silence. As though nothing happened outside. As though your entire history lies merely within the timespan of a few weeks. Minho serving as the mutual friend to your forced, awkward friendship.

He shoots you a dizzying look as he turns his packet to you. “Can you look this over?”

The tip of your eraser taps a number. “This has to be meters per second, not centimeters per second.”

A small sigh tumbles over his bottom lip as he realizes, “That’s why the final answer looked so weird. Thank you.”

The corner of your lip must have an opposite gravity to it, because it curls upward without intent.

v.

Returning to class the next Monday leaves the soft hint of a calm lavender in the air. You share a quick, almost childish, glance with Changbin before settling back into the tune of physics. Newtons and joules and all the fun things that make up energy.

The next few weeks pass with a quiet hum, one that hangs in the background and, if you lose sight of it, you’re scared you’ll lose it forever. It’s a time of your life where you will look back with a sigh and whisper, “How did I not realize how good I had it?”

At your peak, you fall onto your bed on a Friday night. Jeongin scribbles impatient homework answers while your eyes fall shut.

The storm of your phone blaring its tune awakes you.

Lee Minho calls to remind you that he expects you to arrive at his ‘rager of a birthday party.’ He tells you the address, enthusiastically repeating himself (like an auctioneer) as you try to find a pad of paper. Jeongin’s jumping up to fix his hair before you even hang up.

You’re really not sure what you expect as you drag your roommate in tow towards the destination. Though, when you feel the tremble of music and hear shouts from the lawn of the frat house, you somehow know you’re in the right place.

The foyer is packed with jumping bodies. Leaning on the stairs, a red solo cup in hand, is the man of the hour. His cheeks are dusted in a light coating of heat and, as you approach him, you notice that glitter brushes soft highlights along his cheekbones.

“Happy early birthday!” you shout over the music.

He dizzily turns to you and drags you towards his chest in a swift motion. “Y/N! Thank you for coming!”

You had no choice. It was either come to the party or admit yourself to Lee Minho’s terrifying grudge list.

Despite this, you return with a grin, “Of course!”

When he lets you go into the stale air, he shoves his cup into your hand. “Try some,” he nods.

You tip the plastic to your lips. As the liquid scrapes the back of your throat, you flinch back. “What is this?” Your face twists.

“Just vodka and Coke.”

You hastily return the cup to him and glance around. Jeongin has disappeared to a desolate corner, you presume. A spark of jealousy runs through your veins.

“Where’s the bathroom?” you find yourself asking Minho.

He points down a vacant hallway and tells you it’s the last door on your left. You thank him before scurrying in that direction.

Your knock echoes, though nothing returns. The pale wood feels cold against your cheek as you listen for any life inside. You find it safe to enter. Instantly, you press your palms against the cold marble. Identical eyes stare into each other in the mirror until your eyes slip to the pale, spotless basin. You stare into the milky dome absently, pondering why you feel so odd being here. And for a moment you forget where you are, lost in the dizzying world of your thoughts.

Until you hear the choked sob from behind the shower curtain.

It takes you by surprise. Hesitantly, you reach out for the navy shield.

“Ch-Changbin?” you stutter, staring down at the boy in a mess of shock.

His legs are drawn to his chest as trails of tears line his cheeks. He lets out a squeak as he looks up to you. Arms fall to his sides as he leans forward. Though, he appears to have no intention of stopping, surrendering himself to gravity.

Your hands find his shoulders merely moments before his nose slams into the porcelain. “Are you drunk?” you whisper.

Though, in return, he sobs. “I’m sorry.”

Something pierces your chest. Your lips part to say something, but the words are clogged in your throat.

“I was such an idiot,” he slurs, swaying gently.

“What’re you talking about?” you finally ask.

His balled fist slams against the tub. “You!” he shouts, face twisting as he releases another cry.

You flinch back.

“My mom always asks how you’re doing, no matter how many times I tell her. My sister still has a grudge. Hell, even Hwang Hyunjin thinks I’m an idiot and he’s the one who tricked me into leaving you!”

He leans his cheek against the wall, once again releasing a cry. Though, this one, he fights to hold back. It scalds the air in a whimper.

Quieter, he admits, “You were the only person I’ve ever felt safe with.”

You sigh, looking down at your shoes. Those days when you wondered what had gone wrong, staring up at your blank ceiling and trying to relive his smile as quiet tears fell to your pillow, wash down the drain.

He watches intently as you climb into the tub. You do not look at him as you slowly lean against the wall he rests his cheek on. Instead, you stare at the mahogany finish of the small cabinets. Regardless, you can feel his eyes burning holes into your cheek. In this cold porcelain cage, all you can hear is the distant thumping of music and the occasional sniffle from the boy beside you. You smile at the familiarity of it, returning you to your former years cozied up on a playground. No worries back then, you jealously note with a muted snicker.

“I missed you,” you finally say. Tears blur your vision, warping the defined lines of wood into a mess of color.

When you bring yourself to look at him, his eyes are closed. You lean a little closer to see if he’s sleeping. Reluctant lips part as he whispers, his breath hot and reeking of tequila, “I missed you too.”

vi.

One of the things you come to realize is that Changbin’s smile has never changed. There’s still that little indent where his cheeks fold over and each time he offers a glimpse at it you are returned to the days of the swing.

Thanks to the drunken night (half drunken night, you should say, since he had enough for both of you), Changbin has allowed a sneak peek back to his life. Strictly over text, though. You’re not sure why he’s never asked to meet up—maybe it’s too much too fast, you think—but you cannot find it in you to complain. He’s back after all these years and that seems to be enough.

So you endure it, texting him until the early hours of the morning and fascinating yourself over all of these things you have missed.

Seo Changbin [2:39 A.M.]: My sister and I went to the elementary school a couple of weeks ago.

Looking at your phone burns your eyes, as does the weird feeling in your chest.

Y/N [2:40 A.M.]: Really? Has it changed much?

Seo Changbin [2:40 A.M.]: The kids after us got all the cool playground equipment :(

Seo Changbin [2:40 A.M.]: I should take you there one day haha. I think that’d be fun.

You fight the giggle that wishes to flee, glancing up at a sleeping Jeongin for reassurance.

Waking up in the morning is aided with fleeting regrets, though beneath it you realize there is a small skip in your step. One that flares a heat in your face when you walk into the physics classroom and reach to meet Changbin’s eyes. And there, waiting, is his gaze and a small smile.

Maybe you have it bad for Seo Changbin, you think, as Professor Kim begins talking about Newton’s Third Law.

vii.

Yang Jeongin is broadcasting his homework onto the cheap projector he bought on Amazon for $50. “Isn’t it so cool?” he marvels as his red pen underlines a key part of his notes.

You absently nod, glaring at your textbook. Between the lines is a screaming thought that cascades a waterfall of forget towards your upcoming exam. You fail to notice your phone buzzing against your bed. Daydreams are dangerous like that.

“Y/N,” Jeongin’s voice finally snaps you out of it. You look to him, standing at the door and lazily holding the knob. “You’ve got a visitor.”

Your heart leaps in your chest as you rush to take his spot. Before you can tug the door open, he presses a hand on your shoulder. “Be careful around him, please.”

You watch as he struts and flops down on his bed, opening a comic book above his head.

As you open the door, a little more hesitant than before the interaction with Jeongin, you smile.

Changbin is watching the end of your hall and playing with the sleeves of his hoodie. When he senses your presence, he finally breaks his trance and offers a smile. He keeps his voice low, “Can I talk to you?”

You nod, ignoring the annoying thump thump of your heart, “Sure. What’s up?”

“In private,” he adds, peeking over your head at Jeongin. Maintaining his hold on the comic book, though his eyes have drifted to you with a parental glare.

You shut the door behind you. His footsteps draw towards the common area, and you follow. There’s a silence draped over you until he abruptly stops in the middle of the hallway and turns to you. “I need you to pretend to date me.”

You blink. “W-What?”

He draws his bottom lip between his teeth momentarily before continuing, “I made a stupid bet and I kind of really need the money.”

A shroud of toughness hides your instant willingness to help. “What do I get out of this?”

His eyes radiate the innocence of a child. They draw you to a distant memory, one that you might have seen in a movie and forced into a memory, but you’re not sure. You were at his house after he broke his arm and he cried, those same eyes staring at you as he whined about how much it hurt. And how itchy his arm was beneath the cast.

Your heart softens, and you have to fight the crumbling beneath your feet.

“Whatever you want,” he assertively nods. “Seriously.”

You sigh. “Do you have a plan?”

“I always have a plan,” he smiles, pulling you into a grateful hug. His hoodie smells vaguely of ramen with a hint of sealike cologne you might find in Lee Minho’s bathroom. You find yourself smiling as your hands rest on his back.

viii.

His hand, admittedly, feels a little odd in your hand. The last time you had held his hand was in second grade, when you went to the zoo on a field trip. Your class was already flooding into the bird exhibit with anticipation and exuberance. But you were crying your eyes out at the mere thought of seeing a parrot. (This unfounded fear is all thanks to Spongebob)

Changbin’s hand slipped into yours and slowly urged you in, mumbling that if you didn’t go you’d get stuck there forever. And then, he had whispered, the parrots might eat us alive. Even then, his hand was oddly clammy and a little sticky.

But now, as he guides you through the small neighborhood, you feel a calm mix of elation and awkwardness. Sure, this is groundbreaking material for you and your “small” crush on him. However, he’s not doing this because he likes you. He’s doing this because he needs some cash and you were a means of aiding him.

“Where are we going?” you ask, a cloud of your breath expanding from your lips. It’s only the beginning of November.

“You’ll see,” he glances over at you, a small smile painted on his pale cheeks.

There’s a small line of shrubs on your side of the sidewalk. Serving as a break in them is a metal archway, accompanied by a small wooden sign reading: Gyeonghwa Park. He turns into it, guiding you into the small fenced area. A two person swing set stands in the corner, absent seats trembling in the breeze. There’s a few wooden benches, though most are tainted in a layer of leaves.

“Ta-da,” he says, gesturing with his free arm at the small park.

You look around to the little duck statue in the corner. “I don’t mean to be rude, but why are we here again?” you turn to him. His hand burns against your skin like a constant reminder.

“I can’t take you to our playground, so I thought we could settle for here as our first fake date,” he smiles. “Plus, we need couple pictures and I think this works well.”

You’re grateful for the breeze that dashes pink across your cheeks, disguising the heat that has rushed to them at his words. “R-Right,” you stutter.

He takes a seat on a leafless bench and slips his phone from his pocket. As you reluctantly sit beside him, you watch as he sends texts to his friends. Nothing regarding you, you presume, but when he feels your eyes he quickly closes the chat.

The pictures are poised carefully, his arm resting on the top of the bench behind you, your head tilted towards his as you smile. Without warning, he presses his lips to your cheek as the shutter clicks. You try not to make your flinch obvious.

He pulls back, smiling slightly as he inquires, “Should we kiss to seal the deal?”

Fire poisons your veins as you stare back at him. The invisible mark his lips had left sizzles in the air. “Do you think we should?” you whisper.

He shrugs. “It’ll make it a bit more believable. We don’t have to if you’re not comfortable, though.”

You shake your head. “No, it’s fine. Kiss me.”

The corners of his lips upturn a little further, sending a shiver down your spine—though maybe it was just the wind. He readjusts his phone, glancing to assure you’re both in frame, before leaning in. At first, his lips merely wander in the air before yours, as though he is thinking about the best way to do this. But then, confident lips press against yours. His touch melts away the numbness in your fingers, the shiver of the cold. In this moment of freedom, you wonder if he had ever wondered what your lips tasted like. Because you sure have.

ix.

Each of your fake dates is constructed with careful attention to detail. A trip to the movies (seeing a film you had mentioned wanting to see very briefly over text). A study ‘date’ that didn’t really feel romantic, though he brought you an americano and a fancy pen he stole from his dad’s work.

But your date today is very special. The diner is filled to the brim with hungry college students and elderly couples. In the back, bunched up against the upholstery, are Changbin’s friends. They throw their heads back to laugh as one tells a stupid joke. Changbin leads you down the aisle slowly. He squeezes your hand, whispering over his shoulder, “Thank you, again, for doing this. It means a lot.”

You smile against your will,“That’s what friends are for.”

As you approach, the new and familiar faces turn to you. Some hold smiles, others hold gaping lips.

“I didn’t think you actually found someone willing to date you,” a boy marvels.

“Let alone Y/N! How come I didn’t know you were dating?” Minho shouts, garnering certain harsh looks from neighboring booths.

A glimmering smile finds your lips as you slide into the booth beside him, “You never asked.”

He scoffs. “Am I supposed to ask when anything life-changing happens?”

Changbin files in beside you, sighing, “Not necessarily, but you talk a lot.”

“How long have you been dating?” a boy across from you asks. His cheeks are dusted with light freckles, and a friendly smile paints across his lips.

“Nearly two months,” you glance at Changbin, who nods. The finer details, he stressed, must be known like the back of your hand. A single hair out of place could be the end.

“Are you serious?” Minho booms. His eyes are wide and his lips are parted. Even his eyebrows raise in awe, scratching dull wrinkles across his forehead.

“You do talk a lot,” you mumble.

Before Minho can have the chance to shout profanities aiding his awe, another boy sighs. “Shut up and congratulate them, okay? This is karma for laughing at him when he wanted in on the bet.”

“Thank you, Chan,” Changbin smiles, wrapping an adept arm around your shoulder. Instinctively, you lean into his touch, resting your head on his shoulder.

As the night unfolds, queued by digging questions and the occasional groan from Minho, you nearly forget that this is an act. That when Changbin presses a kiss to your forehead it’s not real.

Outside of the diner, as his friends disperse into their means of transportation, he cups your cheeks and presses a soft kiss to your lips. When he parts, there’s a small smile and a gloss hanging over his eyes. “Thank you,” he whispers.

x.

He promises to pick you up at five. All that remains is the reward, you realize. A simple favor has brought you here, waiting impatiently for his knock on your door. Your heart beats harshly against your chest.

“Why are you even messing with him?” Jeongin mutters, stirring his ramen with the tips of his chopsticks.

You glance up at him, sighing, “I’m not messing with him. I’m doing him a favor.”

“Yeah, but, why? He’s an asshole, Y/N,” he shakes his head. As he shoves the steaming noodles into his mouth, he hisses at the heat and tilts his head to the side.

You watch him as he gulps down water.

At your prolonged silence, he adds, “When is he supposed to pick you up?”

You tap your phone screen, illuminating the time. “Five minutes ago.”

Jeongin drowns his harsh words with more noodles. Though, in between bites, he says, “Maybe he’s standing you up.”

The thought has crossed your mind, though a hollow in your chest wants to believe he wouldn’t do that. Friends, if that’s what you are, don’t do that.

Seconds drift into minutes. And minutes turn into an hour. Jeongin’s gone through three more ramen cups. Your lips ache as you nervously bite them, jumping for your phone at each notification.

At half past six, Jeongin rests into your bed beside you. “I’m sorry,” he whispers as he wraps a cautious arm around your shoulder.

Though, you do not feel anything aside from the irritation blurring your eyes. “Are you okay?” he asks. These simple words open the floodgate.

xi.

His eyes avert yours as though they had never known you in the first place. Minho doesn’t say anything when you lower yourself in the seat beside him. Instead, he cautiously slips you a small note. Large, scratchy words read: are you okay?

You crumble the note in your palm before tucking it into your bag. He does not bother you for the rest of class. Class travels by in grueling moments. Professor Kim’s voice seems slowed, stripped of any tone. When he finally dismisses class, warning that the semester is ending soon, you haphazardly shove your things into your bag and leave.

Over your shoulder, you hear a low smack and Minho mutter, “What the hell is the matter with you?”

It hurts to admit, given that you had known from the beginning, but Seo Changbin used you. Though, despite the anger you should be feeling, you can only find yourself wondering what he needed the money so badly for.

Back at the dorm, Jeongin silently pulls a piece of cake from the small fridge and hands it to you. “Here,” he mumbles. “My friend made it for you.”

You look up at him. “Why?” Your voice is raw from desuetude, crackles like an old radio.

Jeongin bites his lip, eyes slipping to your comforter. “I told him you were having a rough time. Plus, he knows Changbin, so he knows the story.”

You take the paper plate in your fingertips, dragging it toward you. You poke the delicacy with the tip of your fork. “What’s the story?”

A sigh slips past his lips. “That you guys dated and you broke up. That’s all Changbin told them.”

You nod. He must’ve gotten the money and thrown you away.

Your phone buzzes against the mattress. Jeongin leans over to check who it is. When his eyes meet yours again, he informs, “It’s just Minho.”

So you allow yourself to look at your phone.

Lee Minho [9:20 A.M.]: I’m outside your dorm. Let me in please.

You look up to the door, though your energy is below zero. Jeongin grabs your phone, reading the message, before going to answer the door.

“Hey, Jeongin,” Minho pushes past him. He sits at the foot of your bed. “What happened?”

You blink, eyes staring into his absently. “What?”

“With Changbin. Tell me what happened, please. He won’t tell us anything and I’m starting to get worried for both of you. He’s never this quiet and you’re never this sulky,” he reluctantly rests his hand on your knee.

You look at Jeongin, who stands there with arms against his chest. He shrugs, silently telling you it’s up to you.

You sigh. “Where do I start?”

“The beginning, preferably.”

“I think I fell in love with him, but I can’t tell you when. Maybe it was when we were kids. Maybe it was at the party when he apologized,” you slowly say. The words do not feel like yours. A small pit rumbles in your stomach, begging you to continue. “He wanted a favor, to pretend to date him for that bet you guys made. I didn’t ask why he needed the money or why I should do this for him, given all he did to me. I just went with it. And things were great, as far as fake relationships go.”

In your break of silence, you find yourself smiling at all the fake dates. You wonder if the pictures still live in his phone or if he discarded them the moment he got rid of you.

“So you guys faked the whole thing?” Minho’s eyebrows furrow.

You nod. “He was supposed to pick me up on Saturday, but he stood me up. And now we’re here.”

Minho blinks. “Either Changbin’s a good actor or he’s a fucking asshole.”

“It’s the latter,” Jeongin announces as he crosses to his bed.

Minho shakes his head. “I’ll talk to him.”

“Don’t tell him what I said,” you rush. “About loving him or anything.”

“I won’t. I promise.”

After he leaves, Jeongin loudly sighs. “I knew you were in love with him.”

You look at him, slowly nodding, “I didn’t really make an effort to hide it.”

xii.

There are tears irritating your skin as you pull yourself out of bed. Surviving off of Felix’s cake and Jeongin’s ramen cups is less than attractive, but you cannot build enough will to leave your dorm. You ask Minho to take notes in physics for you and he quickly obliges, no questions asked.

Changbin, still, plagues your mind like venom. Each time you think maybe a nap is in order, you shut your eyes and see his smile. Or you’ll think of his lips on yours as he smiles into the kiss. Your eyes shoot open, chest rising heavily. Even when you stare at your ceiling too long, your brain deems it a screen for a memory to play. Casted like Jeongin’s cheap projector.

There was this once, in fourth grade when you grew bored of the swings so you relocated to the plastic blue tunnel. He blocked off one end while you took the other. On hotter days, you’d lay on top of the tunnel. One day, he looked at you across the plastic and asked, “Do you ever think we’ll be grown ups far away from each other?”

You shook your head so confidently. “No. We’re gonna live together. Like roommates.”

Jeongin comes home from his classes with a cup of coffee. He sets it on your nightstand as he whispers, “I’m spending the night at Chan’s tonight. Call me if you need anything.”

You take a sip of the americano. “Thanks, have fun.”

In his wake is a dreaded silence that reminds you of Changbin’s laugh. Time has only plagued it with a dash of depth.

Your phone buzzes. Hesitantly, you roll over and grab it. The metal is cold against your fingers.

Lee Minho [4:29 P.M.]: Hey, I need you to come to the beach. There’s something I want to show you.

The thing that tipped you over the edge when looking for a college was the beach. As you carefully scouted, the grains of sand kept drawing you back. It’s ironic as you realize that you haven’t been once, despite its proximity. You can already feel the bitter cold against your cheeks as you rise from your bed. Dots of dizziness scatter across your eyes.

The mid November air is cooler than you expected as you step out of the complex. You shove balled fists deeper into your hoodie pocket.

The walk to the beach is shorter than you had expected, only passing ten minutes. You see Minho waiting on the wooden slats leading to the sand. He jumps to preserve his heat.

“Hey,” you call out to him.

He looks to you, daring to unveil a pale hand as he waves. When you’re closer he says, “It’s fucking cold out here.”

You nod, looking out onto the vacant sand. Huddled like a speck of trash is a small figure.

“Why’d you want to meet out here?” you return to look at him, a piercing cold slashing your heart at the realization.

His face softens as he glances out towards the black speck in the sand. “Well, he wanted to meet you here but he wasn’t sure if you’d come if he texted. So he dragged me out here.”

You find yourself laughing. “And you agreed?”

“I didn’t know it was negative twenty out here,” he mutters. “So go and talk to him so I can get back in my car.”

You smile. Your heart thunders against your chest and, even though you know you shouldn’t, your feet move towards the small figure. He tugs you in, time and time again.

You glance over your shoulder when you reach him. Minho’s already gone, as though his presence was merely a ghost. You squat next to Changbin, wrapping your arms around your knees.

He looks at you, though you keep focused on the pale water. Brushing up on the sand, pulling back into the ocean.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

You nod. “You always say that.”

“I really am,” he admits. “I know you probably think I’m an asshole, reasonably so, but I really am sorry for everything.”

You finally look at him. “What’d you need the money for?”

He’s taken aback. He had expected more of a heartbreaking confession, a perspective he had not once explored. “Music equipment,” he says. “It’s really for me, Chan, and Jisung.”

You nod, looking back at the water. “I was just a ragdoll so you could get that.”

“Not really,” he whispers. “It was kinda a double positive for me.”

Furrowed eyebrows turn back to him.

“I got the money,” he starts, “and I also got the luxury of pretending to be yours.”

You blink. Your voice is small, barely audible over a gust of wind, “What?”

“Every time I did something stupid that got in between us, I always knew I’d find my way back to you. I was the tide and you were the moon, reaching out and tugging me back into reality. Time and time again, as we’ve come to understand,” he nods, glancing at his red fingers, bitten by the air.

You stare at him. “So why do you keep pushing me away?”

He shrugs. “There was always the fear that you didn’t want to bring me back.”

You scoff, remembering your childhood and the way he kept drawing you closer. You shake your head, words failing you.

“So truly, I am so sorry. You still have your end of the deal, you know. You get whatever you want. You can tell me to fuck off and I’ll go home. Sure, I’d be a little heartbroken, but-”

You cut him off, “Why would I ever do that?”

“Because I treat you like shit to fuel this stupid ideology that you don’t hate me,” he admits. “Even when I don’t try to be, I’m a selfish asshole. I only kissed you because I wanted to, not because of the stupid pictures for the bet. I only asked you for the favor because I wanted to paint this stupid little picture in my head. I only stood you up because I couldn’t bring myself to face you and admit that my stupid fantasy was over.”

“That’s not selfish,” you say. “That’s just very Seo Changbin of you.”

“I really cannot tell if you hate my guts or not,” he sighs, picking up a handful of sand and watching as it trickles down again.

You shake your head. “Minho didn’t tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

You look back at the empty space where the ghost once stood. A sigh of a distant nostalgia slips from your lips—the times you’ve pictured this moment over and over in your daydreams. However, you did not imagine the bitter bite of the wind nipping at your cheeks. “That I’m in love with you.”

“You what?” he gawks, leaning a bit closer. As though his ears deceive him.

Your eyes return to his as you nod. “I love you. I probably have since we were kids. That’s the only reason I agreed to your favor. Because I, too, wanted to be a little selfish.”

His lips slowly curl up into a smile as he releases an abrasive laugh. “How much did Minho pay you to say that?”

“He didn’t. I’m being completely honest. Why else would I be here if I wasn’t stupidly in love with you, huh?”

“Really?”

“Yes, now can we speed this up? It’s fucking cold out here.”

He presses his lips against yours. You expect them to mold against yours like they had in previous weeks, but now they are fiery. It sends tingles down your spine as he cups your cheek. With those internal feelings finally suspended from your body, you can sigh a breath of relief.

You wonder if younger you would be proud.

xiii.

“Are you guys actually dating now or are you just fucking with us again?” one of Changbin’s friends, Jisung, asks as you slide into the same booth as a few weeks ago.

“They are,” Minho intervenes. “I watched them confess and everything. Like a minister.”

“Bullshit,” you mutter. “You went back to your car as soon as I got there.”

Changbin’s laugh tickles against your ear as he scoots in next to you.

“Well, I guess it’s a good thing we didn’t revoke the award,” the freckled boy, who you’ve now concluded is Felix, observes.

“Why?” Jisung asks, bringing the straw of his soda to his lips.

“Because we would have had to give it right back.”

His friends are very welcoming of you, despite the deception that marked your first greeting. Chan catches you in the parking lot as Changbin and Jisung fight over the extra mint the server placed on the table.

“I just want you to know,” he starts with a smile, “that he really loves you. It’s not a front, I promise.”

Your eyes crinkle at the corners as you ask, “Those are suspicious words. How should I trust you?”

“Because he talks about you all the time. I know more about your childhood than I know about mine. Plus, he’s written three songs about you and we don’t even have the equipment to record anything yet.”

You laugh, “You’re in luck, then.”

His eyebrows furrow. “Why?”

You smile, shaking your head. “You’ll find out.”

Changbin returns to your side, a sullen scowl pressed against his lips as he watches Jisung pop the mint into his mouth. Chan dismisses himself to attend to Felix attempting to teach Minho a taekwondo move.

You look over at Changbin, “You’ve written songs about me?”

His eyes widen, “No? Why would I ever do that?”

A giggle bubbles up from your stomach as you shake your head, starting off to his car. Behind you, he repeats the same question urgently.

xiv.

Seo Changbin is like a pest that flies around your head, begging your attention at all moments of the day. He invited you over to his dorm so you could study together, though when you arrived with your textbook and notes, he appeared offended.

“What?” you asked as you settled on his bed, fluffing pillows before leaning against them.

“Studying doesn’t mean studying, it means cuddling,” he pouted.

It’s lucky for him that Minho isn’t home because if he ever heard those words falling from his lips, he’d never hear the end of it.

So that’s why you’re laying your head on his pillow, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist as you read over your notes.

“What’s the formula for Newton’s law of universal gravitation?” you quiz him when you feel his arms start to loosen with the temptation of sleep.

He hums, “I don’t know. You’re the one with the strong magnetic force. Shouldn’t they call it Y/N’s law of universal gravitation?”

You sigh, setting the spiral notebook on his nightstand before you turn in his arms to face him. The hint of a smile already greets you. You press a soft kiss to the tip of his nose. “What’s your grade in physics?”

He looks up at the ceiling as he pretends to think. “38.”

“What?” you hiss, pulling back away from him as though he has an illness you didn’t know about.

“Hey, don’t look at me like that,” he whines, pulling you back. “I only signed up for the class because it reminded me of you.”

You smile. “Why?”

He shyly pouts, “I may have gone out of my way to hear about you when we were in high school.”

“And you never thought to apologize?” you counter, your smile still reigning.

“You looked like you were doing fine without me,” he shyly admits.

“Changbin,” you shake your head. “I had no friends after Minho moved. I chased after you, thinking maybe something would happen.”

He closes his eyes. “Tell me you didn’t see me in Cinderella.”

“I saw you in Cinderella,” you laugh.

He throws his head back and whines. “The pants they put me in were two sizes too big.”

The memory of him standing on stage and having to hold up his pants, disguising it by having his hands on his hips, brings another laugh to the air. “Did they really not have any clothespins or anything?”

“No!” he exclaims, looking back into your eyes. “Fucking Hyunjin was hoarding them all!”

You feel the vibrations of your laugh against the pillow. It’s good being like this, having him tethered close.

He’s in the middle of saying something, probably further pursuing his complaints about high school or Hyunjin, but you do not care. You press your lips against his. A moment of stillness, thanks to his shock, before he kisses you back.

The only word to describe this feeling brewing in your stomach: bliss. Pure, hot bliss.

You hope gravity will keep you grounded here.

#bandaigaeru #seo changbin #changbin #stray kids changbin #skz changbin #skz au #stray kids au #stray kids imagine #skz imagine #stray kids scenario #skz scenario #stray kids reaction #skz reaction #changbin au #changbin imagine #seo changbin imagine #seo changbin au #seo changbin oneshot #changbin oneshot #skz changbin imagine #stray kids changbin imagine

[smallheathgangsters]

Second Youngest | S!S

A/N: I’m sorry, I really struggled with this one, but I hope it’s okay. Also, I had to make a few changes to the original request to boost my creativity and to me, it just made a little more sense this way. 

Request: a very long one by @amys-small-world

Shelby!Sister

Word Count: 1826

Type: angst, a little bit of fluff

----------------------------------------------

Life had never been kind to Y/N, from the beginning on. Even her last name didn’t change any of that. Being a Shelby sounded like a privilege, something everyone wanted to be. Nobody daring to disrespect you and receiving everything you ever demanded, no questions asked. But when your own family doesn’t accept you as their own, the Shelby name transforms itself into a burden instead of a blessing. And that burden never went away for Y/N.

Being the second-youngest sibling and unfortunately not sharing the same mother as the others were features that were weighing heavily on her shoulders. Especially the fact that she had resulted out of an affair with a backstreet whore their father had been having behind his wife’s back, spoke for itself. She wasn’t a Shelby the family was proud of. She was the sibling nobody mentioned to anybody. The mistake none of them wanted to talk about. The reason for their mother’s worst heartbreak. Having a fling with a prostitute was one thing, but getting her pregnant? A whole other story.

That meant, that Y/N had to grow up by herself. Even though the Shelby’s took her in right after her birth and made sure to give her a bed to sleep in, food to eat and eventually work to do, they didn’t give her attention, even a second of their time or love at all.

To put it simply, Y/N had no idea what it meant to be loved.

As a child it had been easier, since she had friends to play with at school. But as she grew older, she lost those connections and Polly made sure to keep her inside to do housework instead of fooling around outside and getting into trouble with the other kids. So, Y/N spent most of her days cleaning and cooking for the Shelby household, instead of collecting memories like all the other teenagers.

Never receiving the brotherly protection like Ada had, she’d been forced to fend for herself since. Like the time, when she went grocery shopping by order of Polly and a group of kids her age started following her and calling her names and eventually tripping her, so she fell into a puddle on the street. She returned with her clothes soaked and dirty, making her get a horrible telling off by her aunt. If anything like that had happened to Ada when she’d been Y/N’s age, the boys would have made sure to beat the life out of those kids and that they never even dared to get near her again. But since she was the bastard child her brothers didn’t care about, nobody was there to defend her and keep her safe.

Therefore, the next time she came across the same group of kids, she punched the boy who had tripped her, right across the face, most likely breaking his nose by the cracking sound and his painful screams.

When she returned home, Polly asked her why there was blood on her dress. Y/N didn’t answer, keeping it a secret, like countless other things that would happen in the following years of her life.

At the age of twenty, Y/N was a wreck. Even those four years, when her three eldest brothers were fighting in the war, weren’t any different to the ones before. While Polly had taken over the brothers’ business together with Ada and some other women, Y/N had been tasked with the care of little Finn and the maintenance of the house. It had been acts like those, that made her feel so useless and so out of place. Would she ever be good enough for anything else?

Most nights she cried herself to sleep. She just couldn’t understand how she was still in this awful position. She waited twenty years for her family to hopefully one day change their ways, accept her as a family member and stop acting as if she wasn’t even present. It was horrible knowing that her family was expanding the business without including her even in the slightest way. Was she really that worthless? Why did everybody blame her for something she had no control over? Would this ever change?

It was the day before her twenty-first birthday. Y/N had had a terrible night, waking up multiple times and having awful nightmares, if she did fall asleep. Thoughts about her future had kept her from getting rest. Since the only thing she’d ever done was housekeeping at home and never got to broaden her horizon by finding a job outside, she felt like she could never escape this life she was living. She wanted to be a nurse or a teacher or seamstress. Anything but staying trapped in this state she was in.

Knowing it was still very early in the morning and the rest of the Shelby family was still sound asleep, Y/N rolled out of bed with a groan and put on some clean clothes. She decided that she needed to take a walk in the empty Birmingham streets before her unpleasant daily routine would start over again. She carefully padded down the stairs, making sure the old wood wouldn’t creak too loudly and grabbed her coat before stepping out into the cool, dewy air and closing the door quietly.

This kind of silence was rare. It was just before five o’clock, what meant that even the early risers weren’t awake yet and factories didn’t start their machines before six. Enough time for Y/N to clear her thoughts, to make sure she wouldn’t go crazy today. Because she felt like being at the verge of completely losing it.

She wandered along the cobble, passed little boutiques and bakeries and eventually ended up in front of the catholic church Polly often went to pray in. She wasn’t religious in any means, but she’d always found peace in the serenity inside the church walls. How her heels clicked on the marble floor and the people in the time-consuming paintings on the ceiling kept their eyes on her, giving her all of their attention, unlike her own family.

After entering, Y/N sat down in one of the rear rows, as though she’d be stepping too close to God if she’d gone any further. God, who most likely didn’t care for her or her existence. She sighed, propped up her elbows on her thighs and placed her head in her hands. Then, she let her eyelids close, realising just how tired she was. Lack of sleep being the least relevant one of all the reasons. Feeling the tiredness creeping up on her, consuming her entire body, she stretched herself out on the cold, hard church bench, her eyes not opening even a tiny bit.

She knew she’d fall asleep, but what she didn’t know, was that she’d eventually sleep through the entire morning. The loud bang of the heavy church door slamming against the wall, tore her from her uneasy sleep, making her sit up in panic.

“Y/N? Is that you?”

It was Finn’s voice. She knew immediately that she was in trouble. Although his tone didn’t actually sound very angry.

She wrapped her arms around her body, not answering his question and silently hoping that she’d be overlooked. But that clearly wasn’t going to happen, since she was the only one in the church and she’d stupidly shot up when hearing the alarming noise.

She heard his footsteps get closer and internally prepared herself to be yelled at, and if not from Finn, than from Polly later on. She tried her best to stay strong and hold back the tears forming in her eyes, but it was all too much to handle. She didn’t want to go back home. She wanted to run away or at least just stay here, by herself, as long as she could.

Surprisingly, Finn didn’t grab her by the arm and pull her with him or even tell her to get up. He didn’t say anything at all. He shuffled into the row and sat down next to her.

With her hand in front of her mouth, she muffled the sobs escaping. Then, she felt a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it gently.

“Family’s looking for you,” she heard Finn mumble.

Y/N took away her hand from her mouth and sniffled. “I– I know …”

Finn sighed. “I’m not going to tell them where you are.”

His unexpected statement made her sobs stop immediately. “W–What did you just say?”

Finn pulled back his hand and interlaced his fingers, resting his entangled hands on his thighs. “It’s not that I don’t see my family being very … unfair to you.”

Y/N almost scoffed, but wasn’t able to hold back her eye roll, which Finn noticed. “I totally understand that you’re angry.”

“Angry?”

That was the moment she suddenly couldn’t keep her thoughts from spilling over her lips. “You think I’m angry? Finn, I’m broken. I’m actually so fucking heartbroken. My own family made it their mission to make my life a living hell. I’m over being angry. I just want to leave!”

Her voice was laced with disappointment and hurt. This was the first time she’d ever told somebody the way she was truly feeling.

Finn gave her a sad look. “I’m sorry, Y/N …”

“It’s not your fault, Finn,” she sighed, scratching at the dried-up spots on her hands. “This started even before you were old enough to realise what was happening …”

Finn started chewing on his lip uncomfortably. “I never understood why they didn’t want to accept you. You’re my favourite sibling, you know that?”

Her head turned to her brother, a hint of shock in her face. “What?”

“You were the mother I never had. You took care of me when I was a kid, played with me, cooked for me. I didn’t know that you were forced to do all of that, but I really appreciated it, even at that age. I know I never showed it after I got older and I regret that.”

His words went straight to her heart, making it contract in a way it had never before. Y/N tried to respond something, but her breath just got stuck in her throat, making it unable for her to speak.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to reply anything to that. I just wanted to let you know. And I’d love to help you start a new life somewhere, if that’s really what you want.”

She shook her head. “All I ever wished for was to have a family. A family that loved me and involved me. But not even waiting for twenty-one years made a difference. It’s all still the same.”

He gulped, grabbing her hand. “Let me speak to them, okay? I want them to know that I care about you. And if they’re not willing to change, I’ll help you get out of here. You deserve better.”

Y/N started crying. “I deserve better …”

#peaky blinders #shelby sister #shelby!sister #second youngest #finn shelby x reader #polly gray #thomas shelby #tommy shelby x reader #arthur shelby #john shelby #ada shelby

[knight-queen]

Lunatic Parade Subaru Sakamaki– (Chapter 4)

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3]

Place: Hotel • Mortstein,Guest room / ホテル•モーントシュタイン客室 

Yui: (I feel like tiredness is still left on my body but...I must refresh myself.)

(Umm...Subaru kun is…)

Subaru: nh...nnn…

Yui: (He’s still sleeping…)

Subaru kun, good morning.

...Time to get up already!

Subaru: ……

Yui: (Oh no, he’s not in the mood to get up…)

Subaru ku一

Subaru: Nnh...whatta disgusting pillow…

Yui: Eh…!?

*Holds her*

Yui: (...kh…!)

(He’s misunderstanding me by thinking that I’m his pillow or something…!)

Subaru: Nnnh…

(On the first day, he was the one to say “Do not cross over on his bed-part…!”, but now he’s…!)

Subaru: ……

Yui: (What shall I do?)

→  Selection

Forcibly rub / 無理矢起理こす 

Let him just sleep quietly / そっと寝かせておく(+Correct)

Yui: (But…)

(He was more exhausted than I was, so it should be okay to let him sleep a little bit more.)

(...Aight, it’s decided.)

Subaru: Zzz….

Yui: (Fufu...looks like he’s having a peaceful time while sleeping.)

(May it’s good that he didn’t wake up….!)

*After a moment*

Subaru: Nng…?

*Fades to CG*

Subaru: ……

Yui: (H- he woke up…?)

Subaru: …...Yui?

Yui: Eh...Err...good morning…

Subaru: ...kh!

Wha...What are you doing here!?

This was my bed-part! Do ye’ think it’s alright to enter my bed-side like this!?

Yui: (He’s saying the same thing he said on the 1st day…)

Yo- you’re wrong…! When I was about to wake you up, then you did this while sleeping…!

Subaru: HAAH!? ME!?

kh...I see.

Yui: (Uuh...this situation is embarrassing…)

A- anyways! You have to wake up already!

Subaru: Tch...I have to huh. I’m gonna wake up…

*CG Fades*

Yui: (Last day of the parade…)

(If we complete the orders of the antique art-dealer, we can properly apologize to Earl Walter afterwards…)

(I must get back my heart from him…!)

Place: Aizen Stahl, Antique Art Store / アイゼン シュタール古美術商店 

Yui: Hello, good morning!

Antique Art Dealer: Ooh, you two! I have been waiting. How’s your condition?

Yui: We’re already fine. Thank you for carrying us all the way up to the hotel yesterday.

Antique Art Dealer: Nope, don’t worry about that.

Subaru: If so, then don’t leave such notes which reach my nerves.

Yui: Wai- Subaru kun…!

Subaru: Hmph. And...What’s the last task?

We aren’t gonn’ have a leisure time today after all.

Antique Art Dealer: That’s right. Well then, I shall present today’s mission for you.

I want two of you to search…

My pet.

Yui: Ehh…!?

Subaru: Your pet!?

Antique Art Dealer: Mhm. When I took my pet to the Saint Honore Park today, it escaped away.

Yui: Escaped away...Err, by the way, what kind of pet…?

Antique Art Dealer: A parrot.

Subaru: Haah!? Is there any idiot to ever exist who’ll take a parrot outside!?

Antique Art Dealer: You can see, right in front of you.

Subaru: Don’t ye’ talk back!

Yui: Th- there, there...we’ve got no other options since it ran away…

Let’s go searching?

Subaru: Aah...right…

Yui: (Parrot huuuh...I hope we can find that out without any troubles…)

Place: サントノレパーク通り/ Saint Honoré Park, Street

Yui: (We’ve come here but…)

...It’s unbelievably crowded compared to the first day…

Subaru: ...Haah...earsore…

Yui: If there’s so many people, then we can’t ask around one by one.

Where should we get started…

???: Oh my? Could it be you two are…

Yui: (Hm…?)

Clown A: Yeah, looks like so! We’ve also met before!

Yui: Ah…!

Subaru: You are…!

Yui: (He’s the Mr Clown that we had met on the first day…!)

Clown A: Seems like you are being in trouble in this amusement park this time too~

Oh, plus did you find the head-mask?

Yui: Ah, yes! Thank you for helping us that time!

Clown A: Don’t mention it. By the way, are you trying to find something today as well?

Subaru: Yeah...we’re searching a parrot around.

Clown A: Parrot? ...Could it be that belongs to the person who was screaming today saying his pet escaped away?

Subaru: That’s right. We must gotta find out that old guy’s parrot.

Yui: Have you seen it somewhere?

Clown A: Umm...I’ve seen that today, but I don’t know where it is now…

Yui: I get you…

Clown A: Ah, that’s right! What if we distribute everyone a notice-poster?

Subaru: Poster?

Clown A: Exactly! Since there are so many visitors here today and,

If we pass out posters about this everyone, then you may find that pet out quickly.

Of course, we will support you in delivering those posters.

Yui: No kidding!?

Clown A: Sure thing! We also have a debt of gratitude for your show-performance.

Yui: What should we do? Subaru kun

Subaru: It can't be any help just by asking four or five. If it’s the case then I’ll agree on passing out posters or whatever it takes.

Yui: Aight, let’s start making posters right away!

*After a while*

Yui: (It’ll be better if it has an illustration which is easier to understand and helpful to find out.)

(Drawing a parrot is difficult but...I can count on the photo that they’ve shown us a while ago…)

Subaru: ………

Yui: ...Alright, it’s done!

I’ve drawn it this way, how’s it!?

(I’m thinking it looks good even someone like me has drawn it…)

Subaru: ……

...Isn’t that a crumbled cake?

Yui: Eeeh!? You’re wrong, it’s a parrot!?

Subaru: ...My bad, but whatever it’s looking like, it doesn’t look like a parrot…

Yui: N- no way…

Subaru: Parrot...hm...I also don’t know that much though…

*he starts drawing*

Subaru: ...Shouldn’t it...pretty much look like this?

Yui: Wah...cool…! It’s a parrot…!

You’re unexpectedly good at painting!

Subaru: Surprisingly you say, but it’s needless. By the way...you’re awfully unskilled.

Yui: Uuh…

(I can’t say anything back about it…)

...Anyway, I think we should now scatter so many copies of it.

Clown A: Leave it to me!

I’m gonna distribute in the middle of this park, soI bet you can get some kind of information!

Yui: W- we’re looking forward to that!

(I hope we’ll get a little bit of information by doing it…)

*After a while*

Clown A: Heyy!

Subaru: What’s up?

Clown A: Looks like we’ve come up to know something at once! That pet it possibly in the street over there!

Yui: (Looks like it was effective to make posters!)

Let’s go there!

Place: サントノレパーク通り/ Saint Honoré Park, Street

Subaru: Fuck, where did that damn parrot go!?

Yui: ーAh! Look, Subaru kun! It’s on the roof of the attraction box office!!

Subaru: Tch...this guy playing stupid with us arround…!

Yui: (...It has reached such a place like in the roof huuh…)

*parrot screeches*

Yui: What now, if we just wait here then it’s gonna fly away…!

Subaru: ...I’m gonna fly there and get that.

Yui: Eh!? You can’t! That parrot is pretty big plus...

Subaru: If I take a lot of time just climbing on the roof, it’s gonna run away.

Yui: But…

Subaru: Just be quiet and wait ‘re.

….gh…

*Footsteps*

Yui: (Hm…? Ah, the child is…!)

Subaru kun, waitー

*Screen shakes*

Subaru: ...kh, haa?

Vampire Children C: Ah...I’m so sorrー

Ah...my ice-cream is…

Yui: (It fell off when he collided…?)

Subaru: Oi! Look front while walking! It’s dangerous!

Yui: Su- Subaru kun, calm down…

Err...are you okay?

Vampire Children C: Uuh...my ice-cream...it fell…*crying*

Yui: (He’s crying…!? Oh no!?)

Subaru: Tch...stop it…

Anyway, I am gonna get the parrー

*Parrot flies away*

Subaru: Oii!! Wait up!!

Yui: (It escaped…)

Subaru: Of shit...I was very close…

Vampire Children C: Uuuh….uuuh…

Subaru: ...che.

Yui: (I’m Subaru kun is very angry?)

I- I am sure...this child didn’t get bumped onto you willinー

Subaru: Yeah...I’m aware of that.

Oi, brat.

Vampire Children C: ….Big brother, I’m so sorry...it was my fault…

Subaru: That doesn’t matter now. Above that...you dropped your ice cream huh.

Vampire Children C: Y- yes…

Subaru: ...Which shop is selling it? I’m gonna buy you a new one in exchange.

Yui: Subaru kun…!

Subaru: Even though it’s just an ice-cream to me...but to this brat, maybe it’s something more than that.

Yui: (I see...so that’s why…)

Vampire Children C: Thank you, Oniichan, Oneechan!

|| Oniichan means big brother and Oneechan means big sister in Japanese.

The shop is right over there! I’ll lead you the way.

Monologue  

After this, the boy take us to the shop but一

We were too late, so the ice-creams were already sold out.

This child who was tearing up Subaru kun bought him a pudding from a different shop. For that, somehow he stopped crying.

For a moment, I thought what bad could come up, but the boy returned to his parents while waving his hand to us putting on a smiling face at last 一

End of Monologue

Yui: At the end, that boy was having a happy face right….!

Subaru: Aah...with this, finally it got settled.

Yui: Yes. Thanks for working hard.

Subaru: Well...time to go back for the main task. We’ve lost so much time for sure but 一

*Parrot screeches*

Yui: Eh...that sound of a bird…! It means…!

*Flies*

Yui: Kyaa…!

(Now, it just flies though in front of us!?)

Subaru: That bastard...found it…! This time I ain’t let ‘em escape for sure!

Place: Gardening Shop / 園芸店 

Yui: Haah….kh...haah…

(We had to run quite a bit...this place...a granening shop…?)

*Parrot screeches*

Subaru: Tch...where is it planning to go…!

Place: Garnering Shop, Glasshouse/ 園芸店 温室

Yui: (It’s taking us in such kind of places…)

(Ah...it has stopped on this tree…!)

Subaru kun, it’s the right chance, yes?

Subaru: 一Hold it. Don’t go now.

Yui: Eh...but why…?

Subaru: The tree where the parrot standing is...the Devil’s Tree.

Yui: Devil’s Tree…?

Subaru: This is a tree which reacts to a small stimulus and aimlessly attacks the ones who will go nearby it...

Once you get entwined with it’s branches, it won’t be easy to escape away from it.

Yui: Such a tree is…

Subaru: Yeah...that’s why the only way is to secretly go near it and wait for the perfect chance…

Do ye’ even try to make noises that much.

Yui: Yes…

(I’ll do my best…)

Subaru: ...Aight, just a bit一

Clown A: Oooi~! You two!

Yui: Eh?

Subaru: Aah!?

Clown A: That’s good! I’ve been searching for you!

Subaru: Oi, ye’ dummy! Be quiet!

Clown A: Eh? What do you just say?

Subaru: I said...SHUT UP!!

*Slightly hit the tree*

Yui: Ah, Subaru kun, if you do so, then the tree will…!

Subaru: Ah, oh no…!

*The tree starts attacking*

Yui: Kyaaa!?

(The branch is...wrapped around my body…!)

Subaru: Che…! Let go!!

*Punch*

Yui: Oh no, if you do so then, again…!

*Screen shakes*

Subaru: Uwaa!?

Yui: Kyaaaa!?

*After a while*

Place: Diamante Fountain / ディアマンテ泉

Subaru: Haah...oh shit, we had to face something terrible…

Yui: Yes...you’re right…

(In the conclusion, when一)

(We couldn’t move at all, then we were somehow saved…)

Clown A: I’m sorry...I thought to give you the information about the parrot right away and…

Subaru: Even if so, there was a Devil Tree out there

You knew that, no!?

Yui: W- well, well...but he didn’t have any bad-intention and also…

If Mr. Clown wouldn’t help us then I don’t know what bad could happen…

Subaru: Tch…

...It’s fine. Chasing after that parrot comes first over anything now.

Yui: (Exactly...Before a while, the parrot escaped away when we couldn’t move ourselves for that tree…)

Clown A: If it runs away even if you chase after that then,

What about luring out that parrot instead?

Yui: Luring…? Even if you say that, but how 一

Subaru: No, wait. There’s a way I guess.

Yui: Eh…?

Subaru: You see, that Old-Uncle mentioned before. The tarts which is selling out in the Tart • Tatan. Tarts are it’s favorite dish.

Yui: So, if we lure the parrot using tarts…

Subaru: ...We’ll be able to catch that for sure.

Clown A: Tart • Tatan is nearby this place, however一

Subaru: Near? Then we’re on our way.

Yui: Yes…!

(Let’s do our best so it’ll go smoothly…!)

*They walks away*

Clown A: ...However, tarts may have gotten sold out since today’s the last day of the Parade, I wanted to say.

I hope everything’s gonna be okay…

Place:Tart Tatan,Glimmer Street Shops /タルト• タタングリンマーストリート店

Yui: ...kh…!

Subaru: Aah? What’s up with this crowding…!

Yui: An- anyway, let’s ask the people whether this shop’s selling out tarts or not.

Err, excuse me! We want to take-out some well-known tarts from this shop…

Tart • Tatan Clerk: My sincere apologies. We’ve served too many customers today so,

So the tarts which were for take-out have already sold out…

Yui: So- sold out…!?

Subaru: Then, it’s okay even if we don’t take-out that. We can get the tarts by using the reserving-food method.

Yui: Oh, that’s right. Sorry for that, then we’re gonna reserve tarts for 2 person一

Tart • Tatan Clerk: Actually...the reservation is not available since the customers have already filled that over…

Subaru: What!?

Yui: S-such…!

(We had come this far but…)

Subaru: ...At the end, the only way is to chase after that huh…?

Yui: As you see, it’s the only way I think…?

???: Ah! Oniichan! Oneechan!

Yui: Eh, this voice…

Ah, look Subaru kun! The child who’s waving his hand to us is….

Subaru: Ah? ...It’s the kid from the before.

Yui: (Ne-nevertheless, the food that’s decorated like a mountain on their table is...Tart…!)

Vampire Child C: What are you doing here?

Yui: Umm…

Subaru: Honestly, I don’t wanna ask for the tart to a kid but...we got no other choices…

Yui: Looks like...so…

(I don’t know if he can give us one or two tarts but...let’s try it by asking him…)

Well, you see…

*After the conversation*

Yui: ...that’s what happened.

Vampire Children C: That parrot, it’s the bird that I saw while I collided with Oniichan?

Subaru: Yup, that one.

Vampire Children C: I see. Then I’ll ofcourse give you! It will do, right?

Father: You two were the ones who gave my son pudding, huh.

I am sorry that earlier my child has burdened you with unreasonable things. If this tart will come out handy then take as much as you want.

Yui: Eh, really!?

Father: Ofcourse. You were the one who took care of my child earlier.

Mother: Yeah, we’re really grateful for that.

Yui: Thank you so much!

Subaru: No kidding…?

Your kindness has come out as a huge help…

Yui: Y-yeah….?

(It makes me happy that he said it but…)

(But we don’t have time for that.)

Yui: Then, let’s use this tart and lure out the parrot!

Thank you so much!

Vampire Children C: Mhm, do your best!

Place: Onyx Tower, Inside Hall / オーニュクスタワー内部ホール

Yui: Phew...is it okay to arrange these like this?

Subaru: Yeah...all we can do now is to just wait.

Yui: (I spread it here, from where the smell should get spread the most but…)

(I really hope it’ll come, please…!)

*Wind blows + parrot comes*

Subaru: ….Hm?

Yui: Ah!

(It comes…!)

*parrot(s) screech*

...here, they go!?

(For some reason, so many of them have come!?)

Subaru: Oi, oi, what’s going on!? Where did they come from!

*Parrot(s) screech*

Yui: (Wah...they all have started to eat these all at once…)

Subaru, what can we do!? I am not that sure which one of them is the parrot that we’ve been searching…

Subaru: Me neither! By the way, the fastest way will be to get the Old-Uncle for conforming.

Which’s why...we gotta catch all of ‘em right now…!

*After a moment*

Yui: Haah...hah...kh…haah…

Subaru: ....kh...with this...we’re done catching each of them…?

Yui: Pr- probably…

(We’ve caught all of them when they’ve gone crazy eating the tarts but…)

(But I’m tired beyond my imagination…)

Subaru: ...Haah...now, we gotta call out that old-uncle for confirming in one of these一

Antique Art Dealer: 一Oh my, oh my...you have caught unexpected number of them.

Subaru: kh...you…!

Antique Art Dealer: Yeaah, I’ve come here to visit when I heard that so many parrots are gathered on the top of the tower…

I didn't think you’d catch so many of them.

Subaru: I think yer’ parrot in one of them! Check out!

Antique Art Dealer: Mhm, I will.

Subaru: ……

Yui: ……

(God please…! I hope his parrot is one of these…!)

Antique Art Dealer: ...Yup! This one!

*Parrot screeches*

Yui: Eh...It means…

Antique Art Dealer: Yeah, your mission is complete!

Subaru: OH YAAAAY!!

Yui: (That’s great…! Finally we’re done with these…!)

Subaru: Oi, you’re satisfied now I guess. Then hurry up and handover the things that ya’ promised us.

Antique Art Dealer: Ofcourse, I am aware of that.

Look, I’ve brought those with me.

Yui: (Ah...that’s right...it’s not over yet.)

(We have to go to the place where Earl Walter is.)

Subaru: Finally we’ve got to the starting point…

Yui: (Subaru kun had to face so many difficult things till now, yet…)

(He’s still dealing with these …)

Yui: Umm...Subaru kun, I am sorry...you’re having so much trouble for me…

Subaru: Ah? What are you saying such things, don’t worry.

It was originally my fault starting with and…

...I am gonna go to meet Earl Walter. You wait here.

Yui: Eh...But…

Subaru: I’ll...hurry up and get back your heart at once.

Who can be silent to a guy who’s doing whatever he wants to with any kind of people around.

Yui: Subaru kun…

Subaru: Ah...which is why...you should just be silent and listen to what I say. *blushing*

Yui: Yes…

But, I can’t make you feel hurt all by yourself.

That’s why I also want to go and apologize with you.

Subaru: ...Tch, do as you wish.

Antique Art Dealer: ...Hehehe. You don’t have to go there.

Subaru: Ah? What? What’s so funny?

*BG blurred to white*

Subaru: ...kh…!?

Yui: Wh- what!?

(Smoke is getting filled here…! I can’t see the front…!)

Antique Art Dealer?: ...You two did well.

Yui: (Eh...this voice…)

Subaru: ...kh, this bastard is, Walter!?

Earl Walter: Kukuku...Hahaha…!

*BG is back*

Yui: (Ah...the smoke disappeared一)

*Clothing sound*

Earl Walter: ...Is it the first time to see me in this appearance?

Yui: You are...Earl Walter…?

Earl Walter: Certainly. I have been observing your actions very closely.

Subaru: Closely you say...you mean by distinguishing yourself to an old-man!?

What was that...it means we’ve been rushing around for abiding your orders all these times…

Earl Walter: I think that I was a little bit mean with you. However, you were the one to break the goods of my castle to begin with.

This is why I wanted you to feel grief by doing these tasks.

Subaru: ...Hmph.

Earl Walter: ...Then, we shall move onto the main issue. Yui Komori, I’m talking about your heart.

Yui: ...Yes.

Earl Walter: The fact that you’re the one and only person who’s worthy to possess this treasure,

I have gotten the proof of this claim clearly with my own eyes.

...Therefore, I shall give your heart back.

*Heart’s pounding*

Yui: ...kh…

*Screen’s white for an instant*

Yui: (...kh...for a moment, I felt something strange in my body…)

(My heart is...back…?)

Subaru: ...Oi, you alright?

Yui: I- I think so…?

Subaru: ...ngh…

*Subaru gets closer + loses her dress*

Subaru: Kyaa…!?

Subaru: ...I’m gonna confirm it. ….nnnh...mnn…!

Yui: ...eek…!

(His fangs are…)

Subaru: ...Haah...mnn…!

...Haah...the taste is the same as always…

(Eh...it means…!)

Earl Walter: Heh...told you right? “I’ll give her heart back.”

Yui: ...Thank you very much!

(I’m relieved now…!)

Earl Walter: From here on, walk on your life by being worthy of having this heart.

Yui: Yes…!

Subaru: We'd know it even if you wouldn’t say!

Earl Walter: ...Fufu, good.

Well then...the finale of the parade is coming soon…

Enjoy that till the end upto your heart's content.

With this, I am going to take my leave.

Earl Walter: Kukuku...Hahaha!

*Sound*

Yui: (Ah...he disappeared…)

Subaru: Jeez, what was wrong with that guy…

Yui: Yes...he’s a very mysterious person.

(But…)

(I feel like he has taught us a very important lesson.)

The END of Chapter O 4 一

#subaru sakamaki #diabolik lovers #lunatic parade #lunatic parade subaru sakamaki chapter 4 #diabolik lovers translations

[beamingmaylyn]

eat ramen with me - jjk || part 12

After stepping out the back door of my tattoo shop, I spotted a Mercedes-Benz waiting outside the gate of the back alley. I jogged over and opened the gate for him. I took my time locking the gate and recollected myself. Why was I so nervous? It's not like I’m meeting a celebrit- oh. Okay. A slam of the car door pulled me out of my thoughts. This is it 🤡

"Hello." He spoke softly once I turned around. His hand extended and he bowed his head. "How proper of you, ramen boy." I pulled him in for a hug. He gently laid his hand on my back, as if I was made of glass. Maybe he was uncomfortable.

"Ah, we barely met and you're already making fun of me." He shook his head and scratched the back of his head. This gave me an opportunity to get a good look at him. Wow. Just wow. He was gorgeous. Tall, broad shoulders, big arms, and pretty tattoos. And that face. Gorgeous dewy skin, big, shiny brown eyes, and cute, pink pouty lips. That smile puts the sun to shame. The face I have been seeing on billboards, in articles and commercials is looking straight down at me. Even though I had no idea who Jungkook of BTS is, it felt surreal. Like seeing the Eiffel tower in real life.

“You want to go inside? I disinfected everything before you came.”  He answered with a nod, and waited for me to lead the way.

“I haven’t been here in a hot minute.” “It’s literally been a week, you snake.” He sat down on one of the chairs and laughed at me.

“Is your tattoo healing well?” He nodded as conformation and placed his hand over the tattoo on his left rib. “I got to see your nipple before I even knew who you were, that’s dirty.” A grimace displayed on his face, but he still looked breathtaking.

“Are you up for eating some ramen with me?” I was pulling two ramen packets out of a cupboard when I heard him clear his throat. “Excuse me?”

I turned towards him with two packets of ramen in my hands. “Oh, eating ramen, that’d be great, thanks.” At first I was confused as to why he was so taken aback, but then I caught on.

“My GOD, did you mean like-“ The awkward movement of his hand scratching his head gave away exactly what he was thinking. “We just met, you dog.” I teasingly sent him a wink, and hopefully my eyes didn’t play tricks on me when I saw a speck of pink painting his cheeks.

“You’re going to have to excuse my attire, I asked my roommate to bring me some clothes but she was unsuccessful in her task, dumbass." The sound of boiling water in the machine muffled my choice of words.

“Why is that?” ”If I wore what she brought it would have been very awkward, so I chose not to.” “What did she bring?” My head cocked to the side and I pursed my lips while looking at him. There was no way I would let his ass see that sweatshirt.

“Is this the hoodie?” A bag was hung on the coat hanger, and he dug inside to get a look at the hoodie. He laughed once he saw the ‘BTS world tour’ logo. “This is fake merch, was it intentional?” He folded the hoodie and stuffed it back into the bag.

“Absolutely not, it’s my sister’s. I told my roommate I’m meeting ramen boy, but I didn’t say who you were. I wouldn’t do you dirty like that.”

“If I knew you would have I wouldn’t have asked you to hang out in the first place. Don’t worry about it, I trust you.”

Oomf, so this is what it feels like to have your heart melt inside your ribcage.

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

part 12 - bts world tour

prev || next

eat ramen w me masterlist

summary :  you keep getting texts from a random number and decide not to go against the will of the universe

a/n : the korean phrase ‘eat ramen with me’ basically means netflix and chill so 🥴

@inangellocumlibello​ helped me a lot with this chapter, thank u b 🥰

taglist : @yoongisabby​  @lovelymultiwrites​  @manaxagoras​

if you want to be on the taglist send me an ask or a message!

#bts #jeon jungkook #bts social media au #bts fic #bts fanfiction #bts fake texts #bts fanfic #jeongguk #bts texts #bts jungkook #bts smau #jungkook x reader #bts twitter #bts fake twitter #bts smut #bts au #bts crack #bts memes #social media au #bts imagine #bts imagines

[alpaca-writes]

Mystics, Chapter 25

When Arch becomes hired on at Mystics by the strange shopkeeper Lyrem Nomadus, everything seems to be going well- in fact, their life nearly becomes perfection. Soon enough, however, Arch realizes that perhaps not everything is as perfect as it seems….

Read Chapters 1-24 and more HERE

Taglist: @myst-in-the-mirror, @livingforthewhump

CW: Crying baby and darkness, drug mention and grief. That is all.

It’s Labyrinth time! We catch up with Charlotte and Arthur as they make a very startling and disturbing revelation.

-------------------------------------

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE: POOR THING

         “I wandered for… Oh… I don’t even know how long. Wishing I could be home again- feeling so guilty for how I treated Arch… Thinking about you as well- I mean, I forgot you, Arty! How does a sister forget her little brother overnight- and for months!?”

        “It’s not your fault, really.” Arthur said, “besides, with the way we left things, I wouldn’t blame you for wanting me gone.”

        There was an island countertop dividing them that Charlotte stared up at him from. An amount of betrayal crossed her browbone.

        “How could you think that? I still care about you. I always have! But what I did, I did for Arch. It wasn’t safe for them to be around you when…”

        “When I was high? Or when I was dealing?” Arthur finished, admittedly. “Well, I guess that’s one gift that came from this terrifying place. There’s no coke in hell. It forced me to get clean and gave me a clear head… I suppose I should have thanked Lyrem before…”

        He sighed, “not that it matters much now.”

        There was a bout of silence.

        “There’s a baby here,” he continued, shooting his sister a look to indicate that she ought to elaborate for him.

        “Yes. Rosanna, I think is her name. At some point during my aimless wandering, I came upon the house, and the light, and… her.” She pointed her eyes to the ceiling. “She was all alone, and crying. Poor thing. I have no idea how long she’s been here.”

        “You have everything you need,” Arthur commented, sitting up from the stool and winced as his leg still ached. “There is nothing else in the labyrinth- I was lucky to come across a door to Hades and Persephone. That was the only reason I was able to get out and back to Earth.”

        “I’m sorry, who?”

        “You heard me right the first time,” Arthur spoke directly. He fiddled with the pictures sitting upon baby grand piano.  The images were blurry, like vague reconstructions of photographs without any identifiable subjects… except one. He picked up the photo in its faux oak frame and furrowed his brows.

        “I’ve seen her before.”

        Charlotte followed him to the parlour, noting the photo in his hand.

        “It’s the only clear one in this place. It’s… like I’ve been stuck in a dollhouse. Everything is fake, or a simple vague memory of what this place once was. I don’t understand it. I wish I did.”

        Arthur’s head spun with theories. The pink elephant onesie, the blue starred baby blanket, the soother he found at the bottom of the bins…

        “This could be her house… I saw a photo- not this one, but a photo with the same woman, standing over a birthday cake in the back room of Mystics. She was about the same age, I think.”

        “In Mystics?” her mind burned with the sudden reminder of the grotesque shop owner and hissed. “Arch told me about Lyrem… How he used to have a wife that worked with him. That’s why they were hired. She was gone. I wonder if she’s here somewhere, lost or… dead?”

         “Did Lyrem ever mention having children?” Arthur asked.

        Charlotte shook her head. “I’ve only spoken to him a couple of times, but he never talked about family.”

        Arthur looked to the phone hanging off the kitchen wall with the long beige winding cord attached to it. The appliances weren’t new by any means and the style of the house, with its hardwood, and updated linoleum areas caused his mind to stir.

        “Mom’s house,” he said. “In Knoxville… It was brand new when she moved in. Do you remember the year?”

        “’85, I think,” she confirmed. “Why?”

        “She had the same stereo system, brand new too,” he mentioned, pointing off to the opposite wall where the unit sat beneath a Panasonic television set.

        “You’re right, she did, didn’t she?” Charlotte agreed, “I’ve already tried to play it- it only repeats A Spoonful of Sugar from Mary Poppins… Hold on…

        Let’s say the earliest Rosanna could have been born was 1985, that means”-

        “Well, it’s more than reasonable to assume that”-

        Rosanna started crying over their heads. Both Charlotte and Arthur were thinking the same thing. Lyrem had thrown his own daughter into the Labyrinth as a baby, and never once thought of her again.

        Charlotte broke herself off from the chilling realization and pulled a bottle of milk from the island counter that wasn’t there before. Arthur stared at her oddly.

        “It just keeps refilling,” she explained, shaking it up in her hands. “It’s like everything just resets once she wakes up… And she never stops crying.”

        Arthur followed his sister back up the stairs again. This time, to investigate the rooms. The nursery was quaint and painted in a calming lilac. A sunflower was painted on the ceiling around the light fixture. The small inconsistencies in the shape of the petals caused Arthur to assume it was done without a stencil. Probably by someone who was very excited to welcome their child into the world. A slim acoustic guitar sat in the corner, and a small wicker chair right next to it.

        He wrinkled his nose as he moved around the room. The scent of a baby’s bottom made him gag. Charlotte didn’t seem to care.

        “Lightweight,” she taunted after him.

        Arthur proceeded to the master bedroom across the hall. It was stark. Everything was placed in an orderly fashion throughout which was not a cohesive pattern for the rest of the house. The sheets were perfectly tucked, the pillows, untouched and undented. To the left side, there was a set of glasses and a yellow book. There was a scribble on the front of it, as though it was meant to be English, but it wasn’t convincing to a literate person.

        A lamp on either side of their bed, a window, off to the right that overlooked the front yard and a trembling aspen whose branches swayed in the breeze also gave the impression that this was a house that only belonged in someone’s dream. It was perfect.

        He opened the dresser drawers only to find nothing inside. He found the closet door next, that was set into the wall. There were shirts, all the same color of cream button ups with flared collars, and a few dark pants hung neatly beside them. This had to be Lyrem’s. But where were his wife’s things? Where were his photos?

        Why did Rosanna only remember bits and pieces of the house? And more than that, how the hell did she create all of this? She was only a baby. She couldn’t have been more than a year old.

        These were questions that needed answering one day. But for now, Arthur had to remember that he was still in the middle of his task. He needed to bring Charlotte back to Earth and he needed to find Arch.

        He glanced to the empty doorway. Charlotte was humming a song from their childhood. A sweet and mournful tune as she fed them from the bottle in the room over, he could hear her whisper the melody’s words-

“Goodnight, goodnight sweet child,

Why don't you dream with the angels,

To forget for awhile.

To forget of the life,

That's been handed to you

Where everything's real,

Yet nothing is true”-

        Arthur wondered how easily Rosanna would be able to travel. He didn’t have much experience with young children, but he knew that even in the best circumstances they could be a challenge to bring along anywhere- especially if one wanted to remain quiet.

        He turned his back on them, and raised his hand. Hades had given him the Abysmal Flame to help him kill Lyrem, and it had come in handy when faced with Paimon.

        Maybe it would help them find a way out of here.

        Thinking back to that moment- where that power rushed through his head and into his hands and lit up his bowie knife with blue flames- he could feel it again.

        “Come on,” Arthur started. Encouraging himself to feel the same rage, to feel the same force as before that had lit Paimon up blue. He almost had it… In front of him, in the closet, a pool of darkness formed. He watched it closely become larger and larger until it was about the size of a basketball.

        “Come on, come on, come on…”

        “Arthur?”

        His concentration broke, and he turned, the void closed instantly. Charlotte’s face was red with panic, sheer terror, but not about him or what he had done.

        Rosanna was gone. The baby blanket laid in Charlotte’s elbows with nothing else inside. Though, now, Arthur could see the faint yellow embroidery of her name on the outside edge.

        “W-what happened to her?” Charlotte shook.

        Arthur put himself in front of her, and looked around, like he expected to find Rosanna simply lying on the ground or hiding beside a banister.

        “I- I don’t know. Has she ever vanished before?”

        Charlotte shook her head tearfully and shook out the blanket. Maybe she’d just hiding in one of the wrinkles. Charlotte placed a hand over her mouth and cried out. Her back fell into the door jam as she crouched into a ball on the floor.

        “No. No! I-I can’t do it again! I can’t lose my baby again!”

        Seeing her this way was crushing. He bent down, and placed an arm around her shoulders.

        “You haven’t lost your baby…” he spoke calmly. “Arch is still out there and they are waiting for you. They’re waiting for us to find them… For now, we need to keep it together, for their sake. We need to bring them home- together.”

        Charlotte continued to weep. The thought of facing more heartbreak was unbearable, but Arthur was right. She needed to find her child. Her real child. While she took her time recovering, Arthur removed himself from her side. He was able to create an opening. Leading to where, he didn’t know, but it worked, and to him that was a success.

        The room darkened, like a rain cloud passed in front of the sun. The tweeting birds fell silent. He looked outside, only to find the darkness of the labyrinth closing in on them very quickly. Without Rosanna here, there was nothing left to be remembered.

        “Char! Grab hold of me!” He rushed to her side. “The Labyrinth is erasing the house. Hold onto me and don’t let go!”

        Charlotte did as he said and soon enough, they were both consumed by the deep and dreadful darkness.

-

-

 -

  -

   -

    -

     -

      -

        A blue flame, small but visible, sat in the center of Arthur’s palm. Charlotte clinged to his other arm as he concentrated. He could feel his created void grow larger and larger around them until he saw a very familiar and spritely looking face staring down at them from above and nothing else.

        “Persephone,” Arthur greeted her with a relieved and exasperated smile. “Long time, no see.”

#It's labyrinth time baby! #mystics by alpaca #alpaca ocs #new chapter #fiction #writing #writeblr #whumpblr #whump #urban fantasy #horror #tw darkness #tw drug mention #memory whump #psychological whump #tw lost ocs #whump blog #writers of tumblr #story #original fiction #readers of tumblr #reading #thriller #horror fic #thriller fic

[elsanna-shenanigans]

February Contest Submission #5: Welcome

words: ca. 3,100 setting: mAU lemon: no cw: no warnings apply

<I would like to acknowledge the Traditional Custodians of the land in which this story was written and shared, and pay my respects to their Elders, past, present, and emerging, for they hold the memories, the traditions, culture, and hopes of all Indigenous Australians. I acknowledge that this land is, and always will be, the land of the Jagera/Yuggera people, and that sovereignty was never ceded.>

*

“A snake made the world?”

Anna inhaled, then exhaled through her nose. Kristoff scratched idly at his stubble while they waited for their coffees to be made, standing around the uni café.

“It’s a mythos, Kris,” she said after a moment. “Just like Christian God, or Allah, or- I dunno. Whatever specific being any other major religion thought made the world.”

“But a snake.”

“Rainbow Serpent, actually. And it’s really interesting, if you bothered to listen.”

He opened his mouth to retort, but was cut off when their names were called and two coffees placed on the counter. Anna took the chance, moving forward and grabbing her own cup and a few extra sugar packets. By the time Kris had caught up to her, she’d already dumped two into her drink, gently stirring it with a paddle-pop stick.

“I did listen,” he said, clearly intent on continuing the conversation. “And doesn’t the story go that the land and shit already existed but the big snake made mountains and valleys and stuff?”

Taking a sip of her drink, more to waste time than anything, Anna had to concede that he wasn’t wrong, per-se. He was just missing all the nuances of the topic, though!

“Look, I just thought it was cool, is all,” she said once she’d finished the mouthful of, frankly, fairly mediocre coffee. Nice and sweet, though. “Like, out of the seven-hundred-ish tribes– uh. Mobs. Most of them have an origin story that’s so similar. Across the whole country! But the languages they use are completely different – did you know the name of the language is traditionally based on their word for ‘no’? I just… thought it was cool.”

“It is cool, Anna,” Kristoff said, shooting her a small smile. “And I know learning about all this stuff means a lot to you.”

Swallowing again, though more from the dryness that had suddenly appeared in her mouth, Anna nodded. “Well, Mum isn’t around to teach me this stuff anymore. But I don’t wanna miss out and regret it forever.” Suddenly, she perked up. “Hey, did I tell you? I’m going to a thing today!”

“A thing?”

Nodding – so emphatically that she spilled her coffee, the brown liquid sloshing over the side of the cup and landing with a splat on the floor – she grinned up at her friend. “Yeah! It’s this traditional Indigenous show-thing? I can’t really remember what it’s about, but it wasn’t too expensive and they’re doing everything – a Welcome to Country, and stories and bush tucker, and I think they said a corroboree at the end?”

“That sounds really cool, Anna,” Kris said, just as his watch beeped at him. “You’ll have to tell me all about it. Uh. After class.”

Sighing, but this time with a smile, Anna waved him off – spilling her drink again in the process. “See you later, dude,” she said. She probably had to start getting ready, anyway.

Throwing the remnants of her coffee in the bin, Anna made her way back home. A forty-minute bus ride home, only to take a quick shower (how fortunate the drought of her youth had trained her in the art of 3-minute washes…) before heading back out again. It was cooling off, but she knew the evening wouldn’t get cold by any stretch of the word. It smelled like it was going to rain, and she heard the kookaburras again as if to confirm the thought.

Kookaburra laughing means it’s gonna rain, she thought to herself. 

It was another forty-minute ride on the bus, and Anna felt herself becoming giddier and giddier with excitement. It’s one thing to learn about this sort of stuff in class. Now, she gets to experience some of it.

Even the first few splatters of rain on the window of the bus can’t dampen her mood.

*

By the time she arrived, the small drizzle had turned into a full-fledged shower. It wasn’t a storm – it felt a little early in the season (or late in the year) for that – and it would probably pass soon. She was glad she wore closed-in shoes, though, because it turned the earth into a sticky, muddy substance that stuck to everything.

There was only one other girl her age, and though Anna didn’t want to seem too invested, she was also cognisant enough to recognise that she’d rather interact with her than with any of the other people. A glance at the assembled crowed, standing under a large tent as protection from the rain, only confirmed her suspicions: there was at least one tour group, mostly made up of retirees; a school group, probably from the city’s Boys Grammar school, judging by the pretentiousness (and the uniforms). And the girl.

Not that she needed to worry about it. It was very much a group thing in that they weren’t asked to find partners or actually even talk to each other – not at first. First it was a respectful silence – and for Anna, a respectful reverence – as an Elder stood before them to give an official Welcome to Country. He described the land, before White colonisers; the shape of it, the boundaries between Turrbal Country and Jagera Country; the Meeanjin people, who weren’t able to claim Native Title for the land that still was theirs. Even the private school boys were silent, weren’t even fidgeting. Anna had to blink a little harder than usual, and she didn’t stop until he’d finished his piece.

No one clapped, but then, they weren’t supposed to.

A sudden flash of anger overtook her, and she had to face the ground just so she wouldn’t ruin this moment for everyone else. Why had her mum kept this from her? Why did she have to go searching, find out herself? How could they have grown up, let her grow up, not knowing a thing about her heritage??

“Hey, you okay?”

Jerking her head up, Anna found herself having to blink once more to force the angered tears away. The girl she’d noticed earlier was standing in front of her; everyone else had moved on, walking over the red land and towards a building.

“Y-yeah,” she responded. “I’m just…”

“It’s a lot, isn’t it?” The girl looked over her shoulder at the crowd. “C'mon, I don’t think you want to miss this next part.” With a quick, but sincere, smile, the girl turned around and began the return to the group. Anna followed, a few steps behind.

“I don’t?”

The girl shook her head. “I’m Elsa, by the way.”

“Anna. Nice to meet you.”

Elsa just smiled at her, slowing down enough to let Anna fall into step beside her. 

*

Elsa was right: she did not want to miss this.

Once they regrouped, everyone was led into a darkened room. There was a star projector in the centre, a surprisingly real-looking, but definitely fake, fire built around it. They’d lit incense, or something, and when the door behind Anna closed and she was asked to sit on the floor, she found it really easy to imagine being here, back in the long ago.

It wasn’t the Elder who spoke this time. Another man, several years younger, came to sit in front of everyone. He had no shirt on, but his chest was painted in various pigments of ochre and white, only just distinguishable in the dim light of the fake fire and stars (and, Anna realised when she turned around, the fire exit sign). Elsa was sat behind her; she lifted her eyebrows once, still smiling, and Anna hurriedly turned back to the speaker in front her her.

And boy, did he speak. He told the story of the Rainbow Serpent, who carved the mountains and the valleys, and who tickled the frogs until they laughed, and the water that had been kept in their fat bellies burst and filled the tracks that had been made. He spoke about the animals that followed the Rainbow Serpent, who obeyed her and were rewarded by becoming human; those who did not would be made stone again.

But he spoke of other stories, too, ones she hadn’t heard before. He spoke about the Three Brothers, who were found mixing with women of another skin-group – a serious offence – and found their lives forfeit, as there were strict rules around marriage and mingling. Another person came up after that, a young woman, who told the story of Mundiba and they Honey, which was a cautionary tale against greediness and selfishness, as he had been asked to collect honey but had kept it for himself. A spirit had grown suspicious, and upon witnessing Mundiba taking the honey, had sung to the trees to trap Mundiba, where he had perished.

The last tale that was told, just as the retirees were losing focus and the boys began squirming, was the tale of the two wise men and seven sisters. Another origin story, Anna thought, and enjoyed it all the same because it spoke of people who weren’t people. This story, the audience was told, was from Wong-Gu-Tha country. 

In the beginning, it says, the Creator sent two spirit men, Woddee Gooth-tha-rra, to shape Yulbrada, the Earth. They came from the far end of the Milky Way, and were tasked with making the hills and valleys. They made the cliffs and the oceans, the plains and the mountains. And when their work was almost complete, the Creator sent seven sisters, who were stars of the Milky Way, to make the land beautiful with flowers and trees, springs and billabongs, and all the birds and animals and all the creepy things.

Anna had to stifle a little smile when the woman said that. Not that she had to – the woman was smiling, clearly enjoying telling the story, perhaps more than Anna was enjoying hearing about it.

The sisters were making the Honey Ants when they became thirsty, and asked the youngest to find some water for them all to drink. She dutifully took her dish and went off, in the direction her sisters had sent her, to find water.

The Woddee Gooth-tha-rra were in the bushes, spying on the women, and followed the youngest went she went for water. They did not hide, and she fell in love with the two spirit men, and they her. The six sisters left became worried because the youngest had been gone so long. 

They had all been warned by the Creator that, should such a thing happen, they wouldn’t be able to return to the Milky Way. The youngest sister remained on Yulbrada with the two men, and became mortal. They became the parents of the earth, and made the laws and the people of the desert.

The woman fell silent as she finished her story, and Anna was left thinking. It was a creation myth so similar to Eden, but different. People came from the Heavens, but it wasn’t a punishment to remain on earth. They weren’t cast out for the knowledge they gained, but instead had to embrace it. It was love that made the people, not the wrath of any god.

It was a comforting thought.

*

After the stories, they were treated to a didgeridoo player, as well as a demonstration of spear-throwing, weaponry, and warfare stuff. They returned outside, the storm having passed and the remaining clouds providing just enough cover from the would-be blistering sun Anna was less invested, but the school boys definitely perked up. Actually, regardless of her open interest, she still found herself perking up. The storytelling, while interesting, had little action and more atmosphere. This had action.

She found herself sitting next to Elsa again, a question burning the tip of her tongue. When there was a short break while some of the boys asked questions about the weapons, there was a window to actually ask.

“How did you know I’d like that?" 

Elsa hadn’t been paying attention, naturally, and looked a little surprised when she turned to Anna. A smile graced her face; she looked comfortable.

"Everyone does. Even the kids, even if they thought it was a little boring.”

“Well, you were definitely right,” Anna said, an easy smile lifting to her own face. “Have you been here before?”

Before Elsa could answer, their attention was called for the next activity. A small wave of disappointment urged through Anna – she wanted to talk! – before she chastised herself. She had come here to learn all this stuff, even in this vaguely touristy way. She did not come here to make friends.

But… perhaps that would just be a happy bonus as everyone was led to a fire-pit and she realised that the next activity was lunch. An activity in which everyone was able to – nay, encouraged to – talk to everyone else.

Anna wasn’t going to talk to the school kids, and she held little interest in talking to the retirees. She didn’t even have to seek out Elsa; the other woman had left a spot next to her open, and was already looking at Anna and smiling.

They didn’t speak until after the food had been distributed: damper and dukkah – and a plate of different dips and chutneys on the side; skewers of kangaroo, crocodile, and emu; as well as more typical roasted meat. Potatoes and gravy, and all flavours she’d never tried before.

“This looks amazing,” Anna said to herself, eyes as round as the plates in which the food had been served. There was a light laugh from next to her, and she turned to find Elsa smiling.

“It tastes even better,"  she said. "And I know because I have been here before. Only once or twice, but it was enough to get me to come back.”

Anna thought back to how much this had cost her – well worth it, but it wasn’t cheap either – and then to the woman next to her. “It’s been amazing so far,” she agreed.

“And it gets better and better. This is probably the best one I’ve been to.” She said it without taking her eyes from Anna, who felt her cheeks burning. Was this woman flirting with her?

And then Elsa bit her bottom lip, still smiling, and nodded towards the food. “Go on, try it. I bet it’ll be the best you’ve ever had.”

Okay, yep, definitely flirting. Probably as red as a beet, and a shade that couldn’t just be blamed on the sun, Anna ducked her head and focussed on the damper. It came apart easily in her hands, and she dipped it in some of the… chutney?

“So, is this your first time here? What made you want to try it out?”

Elsa asked the questions just as Anna lifted the bread to her mouth. She’d definitely taken too large a bite, and probably looked silly. A possum in the headlights, with bulging cheeks and wide eyes. With some difficulty, she swallowed.

“Y-yeah,” she said, reaching for her cordial. “My um. My mum passed away recently and when I was going through her stuff I found some pictures and documents about where I- where she came from. Wanted to… reconnect, I guess?”

Elsa nodded along as Anna spoke. “I’m sorry for your loss,” she said, and she actually sounded like she meant it. “How are you finding it?”

It was impossible to tell if Elsa were talking about the death, or the discovery, so Anna chose to focus on the latter. “Well, I was really excited at first. I wanted to learn the language and talk to the Elders – I’m already doing Indigenous Studies at uni, so the chance to learn about it all from a personal perspective was really nice.”

“But…?”

“But Mum was Nunukul, so there’s no more language. I know they have the Quandamooka centre over at Straddie – uh, Minjerribah – but I don’t know if that’s the same. Jandai is not my people, or my language.”

Elsa nodded, taking another bite of her food. She was already half-finished, while Anna had been so focused on talking she’d barely started.

“I know what you mean,” Elsa said when she swallowed. She spoke slower than Anna, more thoughtfully; it gave Anna a chance to catch up with her food, at least. “My father is Tjungundji, so all I really have for that is some stupid word lists by old white people, sealed away in Canberra and gatekept by those same old white people.”

A bitterness seeped into her voice; a tempered fury that Anna was]s only just learning exists in her, too. A righteous anger over how much had been taken, not just from her, but from her people, and all other peoples who had been here before.

But she needed to look for the positives. She didn’t know much about Elsa’s mob, but she had been researching her own. She was lucky enough that not everything was taken or destroyed.

“It’s amazing what we’ve been able to recoup,” she said softly, thoughtfully. “I don’t think my grandma, or even my mum, really, could have imagined that their culture could be separated. It’s why they didn’t pass it down. But it is; it’s here and alive. Even though no one speaks Nunukul anymore, and it wasn’t really written down, we have the songs and stories of those people, even in English. I know the snake is my totem, even though I’m terrified of snakes. And I just think it’s amazing how much we’ve been able to put back together even after it all shattered. Things like this, today, are amazing, honest attempts at reconciliation.”

Elsa snorted gently, a smile on her face. “’Reconciliation’, eh? That’s the buzzword of the century.” Anna laughed and nodded. 

“I like to think it’ll keep getting better. Two years ago I’d have never even thought to do this – Indigenous history was just a boring subject in school. But next week I’m getting a snake tattoo, which is terrifying, and it’s been designed by an Indigenous artist and it’s something on me that they can’t take away.” She sighed. “We need to stop taking so much away.”

They fell into silence for a moment, finishing up the meals on their plate. It was a thoughtful silence, comfortable, before Elsa broke it.

“So, you’re terrified of snakes and tattoos. Why are you getting both? Why not choose another design?”

She asked the question so sincerely, honestly. That was all that was really needed, Anna realised. A genuine desire for understanding that, as wonderful as she believed Australian culture to be, she often found sorely lacking. The “she’ll be right” attitude that blinded people to problems. To truths and solutions.

“Because,” Anna said, smiling. Elsa looked right back at her, the expression mirrored on her face, and regardless of the flirting earlier, Anna thought that, at the very least, she had made a friend. “A snake made the world.”

#elsanna #submission #february 2021 contest #prompt: ancient worlds

[peakyblinderswhore]

Can you do one where the reader is Arthur’s daughter and the same age as Finn and is dating Isaiah in secret and one day at a party she gets jealous because girls are flirting with him and hes letting them and so she starts to flirt with other guys and Isaiah gets mad and pulls her away and kisses her and someone sees and tells Arthur

A/N: hi anon! (and the anon i redirected here) i will say i merged two ideas together (being finn’s twin sister and dating isaiah but not telling anyone until they catch you together) as i felt they were similar and worked better together, two brains is better than one, eh? so she’s not arthur’s daughter but arthur does come to try and protect her later on. i also shaved a little off of the end as i liked where i left it!

W/C: 1.7k

“Shh,” you whisper, hand over Isaiah’s mouth. He had a massive smile on his face, unable to contain his laughter as the two of you hid from Finn.

The two of you were hiding in one of the many rooms in Tommy’s house. He’d just gotten married and everyone was partying downstairs.

You and Isaiah, however, were far from partying. The two of you were on your way up the stairs, having a proper nosey around Tommy’s house before Isaiah had pushed you up against a wall, pinned your hands above your head with one of his and leant the other on the wall.

“Isaiah, they’re only down the stairs,” you had breathed out, his face close to yours.

He grinned, “They’ll never know…”

He brushed his lips against yours, you smiled into the kiss, his grip on your wrists above your head had loosened and his fingers were in your hair, tousling it as he went. You brought your hands down to his waist, holding on to the belt loops of his trousers and pulling him closer to you.

Isaiah chuckled, “Eager?”

You pout your lips as he pulls away, “Where you going?”

He grins, eyes shining at you, “To find us a room, what else?”

“Ah, not Tommy’s,” you call, “that’s too weird.”

Isaiah stumbles away from you, looking for a room. You quickly flatten your hair and make sure that your dress is still in all the right places for when he comes back. Standing next to the staircase, you stare at the paintings hanging on the wall. At the top of the staircase was a massive painting of Tommy, Charlie and Tommy’s wife Grace. It was grand and felt like it was the opposite of your older brother’s ‘thing’. It was outlandish compared to where he started off.

“Finn,” you hear Arthur say from below, “go check on Charlie, would you? Bride and groom’s night off and everything…”

Your eyes widen and you run to try to find Isaiah. Spotting him, you grab his arm and pull him into a room before closing the door.

Isaiah eyes you, wondering what you’re up to and before he has a chance to say anything you rush out, “Finn’s coming up, Arthur’s got him to check on Charlie.”

“What, your twin brother, Finn?”

Rolling your eyes you whisper, “What other Finn do you know, Isaiah?”

Isaiah sits next to you, perched on the edge of a bed, with his hand resting perfectly on the small of your back. You didn’t know what room you were in — all you knew was that there were too many of them, way too many. Finding your way out of the dining room after Arthur’s kind-of speech and into a large reception room would’ve been an impossible task had everyone else not been going the same way.

“You know, we don’t have to do this in secret all the time.”

Sighing, you reply, “I don’t know how everyone would act — and that’s what bothers me. I mean, you’re my twins best friend and you work for my older brother.”

Isaiah frowns, “I didn’t know that you knew about that.”

Sparing him a glance you say, “Babe, it’s the Peaky Blinders. I don’t have to be involved in it to know everything that my brothers get up to.”

“It was only recent,” he mumbles.

He seemed upset about the fact that you knew his business without him telling you so you pout and lift a hand to his face, “I’m sorry… it’s just the way us Shelby’s work. I should’ve mentioned it to you first.”

Leaning your head towards his, you capture his soft lips in yours, sharing a small moment before pulling away.

Looking around, you notice how well furnished it is and, yet, there’s a lack of homeliness to the room. You figured it was a guest room of sorts and therefore didn’t need to be furnished as well as the others.

Footsteps pass the door outside as well as a shadow and a creaking of an opening and closing door.

“I think he’s gone into Tommy’s room to check on Charlie,” you whisper, “let’s make our escape now.”

Isaiah grabs your hand and holds it tight. As the two of you stand, waiting by the door, he slowly cracks it open until a slither of light shines through. The hallway was clear.

“Quick!”

He just about yanks your arm out of your socket as he pulls you out of the room so that you are able to make a speedy exit down the winding staircase. You run your hand along the smooth banister and giggle when you make it to the bottom.

Gathering your thoughts and slowing down your heart rate from the escapade you’d just done.

The sun shines through the open front door, some of the others must’ve gone outside for some fresh air, the sun is setting as the evening nears and you breathe in the fresh air flowing through the building.

Isaiah lifts his hand to your face, you watch his movements as he does so, and ticks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, “It fell,” he says, almost in a whisper, “you look so beautiful in this light.”

In a flash, your cheeks tint a light pink and you try not to let it show too much.

Placing his hand in yours, he laces his fingers through yours before suggesting, “Shall we go for a walk? I’m sure Tommy’s for plenty of land.”

Smiling, you say, “That would be lovely.”

Neither of you are watching for anyone else who may be looking and neither of you really care because, in this moment, it’s just the two of you and that’s perfect in your eyes.

The two of you take your time walking around the grounds and have been out walking for half an hour. You pass through the gardens out back, where you especially liked looking at all of the butterflies still flying about despite it being almost night-time. Isaiah leads you through the garden to make your way back to the house.

Halting at the door, Isaiah turns to you and says, “I want to spend more time with you, more times like this.”

Gazing into his lush green eyes, you study his expression. His eyes are soft, they melt you when he looks at you like that, it makes you feel warm and you want to spend all of yourself time with him when he’s in such a good mood as he is now.

“I think that I’d like that.”

You shift so that you are stood in your tippy-toes and rest your hands on his waist. His fingers span across your cheeks as he holds your face and kisses you ever-so lightly on the lips. Your eyelids flutter shut as you drink in this moment, wanting to remember it forever, wishing that it could stay like this for a lifetime.

He deepens the kiss and just as you are bringing your hands up to rest on his chest you hear a gasp and the scattering of someone’s shoes on the stone slabs by the front door.

Simultaneously, you pull away, glancing at each other before going inside to see if you could catch the culprit.

“Oh shit,” Isaiah mumbles as an angry Arthur comes storming over to the two of you.

His hair is falling into his face despite being fiercely slicked back and his eyes are wild. His suit jacket is gone and his tie is loose around his neck, his shirt sleeves are rolled up slightly but his waistcoat remains in place.

“Isaiah!” Arthur calls, pointing his index finger in his direction.

“Who do you think you are, kissing my little sister, eh?”

Your eyes widened, he knew.

“Arthur,” you say stepping in front of Isaiah, bringing Arthur’s attention to you, “Arthur, you’re drunk, let’s not make a scene, please,” you beg.

“No! I want to talk to the man who thinks he’s got it all, who thinks he’s the bee’s knees and thinks he’s worthy of my sister. I’ve got to look out for you, love,” Arthur is insisting.

“Arthur!” you say as he tried to push past you to Isaiah.

Isaiah takes a cautionary step back, his hands held up, “Arthur,” he begins, “I know she’s your little sister and you’re trying to protect her an’ all that, but you can’t stop me from being with her.”

Arthur stops, he looks as if he’s thinking hard about something, “you can’t be with her. You’ll only leave her for someone else who is nowhere near as good as my sister ‘ere!”

“Arthur!” you plead, begging to him to stop as more heads turn in your direction, wanting to see what all the commotion is about.

“Arthur,” Tommy calls from across the room, “what’s going on, brother?”

At this point, you’re panicking, your arms are on either side of Arthur, holding him back as best you can, only hoping that your brother doesn’t snap Isaiah’s neck in response to this all.

“You can’t and won’t stop me,” Isaiah says, firmly standing his ground. You whimper at his response.

���Oh yeah? And why’s that?” Arthur challenges.

“Because I love her.”

Instantly, Arthur slacks and you have to catch yourself from falling over as well as from the words that had hit you.

Isaiah said it with so much confidence you wasn’t sure you heard him correct.

“You… love me?”

His eyes meet yours, “Yes.”

“Well fuck,” Arthur mutters before raising it so that you could hear him, “I might’ve just fucked it up for you there,” he says gesturing to the rest of the Shelby clan gathering to see what was up.

Without a second glance at Arthur, you jump on Isaiah, arms wrapped around his neck and lips pressed against his. He caught you and spun from the motion, smiling into your kiss.

“I love you too,” you whisper to him.

“Well we have been doing this for a few months now.”

“I know,” you reply, biting your lip, trying to contain your smile but fail and break out into a full-on grin.

Now all you had to do was explain it to everyone else.

Oops.

#peaky blinders #arthur shelby #isaiah jesus #isaiah #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinder imagine #birmingham #thomas shelby #love #romance #1920s #littlemissshelby #littlemissshelbyreplies #sneaking #hiding