#anyways thanks for the tears anon i love this

[godslino]

IN BLOOM | jisung first date series. second chance lovers.

pairing: jisung x fem!reader word count: 13.2k genre: childhood friends au, angst, fluff, songwriter!jisung, florist!reader warnings: swearing, minor character death, grief/loss (nothing to do with any of the members!) summary: it's february. the tulips are in bloom. jisung is back.

chan | minho | changbin | hyunjin | jisung | felix | seungmin | jeongin · · · ♡ series masterlist · · · ♡ taglist · · · ♡

a/n: *taps mic* hello?? is this thing on?? oh good. yes. hi. hello! it's been a while, as most of you can tell. thank you all SO MUCH for sticking around. if you've been reading my asks you'll know that march and april were rough months for me personally. shout out to my anons and mutuals who kept my spirits high and made my days brighter. uhhh, this was originally supposed to be a stand alone fic but i figured hey, what the hell, and made it into jisung's first date chapter. it's pretty heavy stuff. lots of feelings, lots of love. i hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as i did writing it! again, thank you so much for waiting for me. i'll be back soon with more updates! all the love <3

also thank you kenzie for being such a light during all of this. i hope all my screaming in your messages was worth it!

“All of these had to be pulled.” Hyunjin huffs, dropping a few crates just past the doorway. 

“Again?” you ask, hands on your hips as you stare at yet another wasted supply. “I don’t understand, they sold so well last year.”

Hyunjin gives you a sad smile. “It’ll pick up eventually, don’t worry. I mean the holidays just finished and business usually slows down in the months after anyways.”

He’s being sincere, you know that. But there’s a part of you that also knows it’s a lot more than just the usual ebb and flow of sales. He’s being nice for your sake.

“Maybe we could try coming up with other ideas?” he suggests, because Hyunjin is nothing if not kind. Always willing, always finding a way.

He moves past you to grab a fresh pair of gloves. The ones he’s wearing are dirty, pollen-stained and ripped at the edges. 

“You’ve always been really good at basket arrangements. We could try to make some for Valentine's Day. Different sizes, maybe? The big ones will probably do well for online orders since they’re more optimal for things like office deliveries and stuff like that.”

You hum in approval. “True. I mean, I was kind of worried we would have to skip out on deliveries this year since we don’t have the manpower to handle all of that, but I think Jeongin’s been looking to pick up hours around here again. He said something about his program giving them a month of independent study, so he’ll be home for a bit.” you say, scribbling down a reminder in your notebook. “I could ask him to help with driving the truck in his free time?”

Hyunjin lights up– he always does when Jeongin is mentioned. 

It’s been a lot quieter ever since he left for college. There were so many tears and so many hugs that were met with countless 'you guys are dramatic's in return. But it’s hard to not feel sad when people leave town; when they decide the borders lined with apple trees and rice fields aren’t enough to stop their dreams from blooming into more than what’s capable of being pursued here.

That, unsurprisingly, is something you know all too well.

“Can’t believe he’s driving.” Hyunjin laments as he wipes his floral scissors with a rag. “I used to spend my days changing his diapers and spoon feeding him redbulls– but now? Driving? My baby is all grown up.” he fake sniffles. “By the way, I’m gonna take my fifteen after I’m done snipping these tulips.”

You snort, bending down to take the crates of wilted flowers to the back for disposal. Hyunjin moves to help but you shake him off.

“Sounds good. Also, don’t let Innie hear you say that. I’m about a thousand percent sure he has the strength needed to throw you into the dumpster with one arm now.”

“My baby would never do that to me!” Hyunjin calls out as you round the corner, bumping open the back door with your hip. 

February brings a lot of rain in Jeju. Today is no different; fat drops landing on your head as soon as you stumble out into the alley behind the shop. Footsteps heavy on wet brick, you curse under your breath as you run as fast as you can to the dumpster.

There’s still a few supply boxes from yesterday’s shipment laying around. You meant to bring them in, but you were so exhausted that it slipped your mind while you struggled to make sure everything inside the shop was figured out.

Scrambling, you haul them in one by one, shoes squeaking against the floor as you alternate in and out, soggy cardboard pressed against the front of your apron. 

Hyunjin’s on break. A necessary one at that. You can’t bother him, especially not when he’s done enough by taking on more responsibility both as a physical worker and a newly actualized business partner recently. A few stacks of boxes and wet hair seem like a fair trade off for what he’s had to sacrifice in the past year now.

“Idiot,” you mumble, cursing yourself for carelessness. Your slip ups have been more frequent lately, evident in the way you constantly forget things and can’t seem to push away the haziness clouding your mind. 

If it weren’t for the timing of it all, you’d blame it on the weather. The gloominess. The overcast skies probably have some sort of hand in your lack of clarity. Shrouded.

But it’s February. And in Jeju— it rains.

By the time you make it back inside, you’re drenched. 

“You look like you just got dunked in a pool.” 

You frown, ringing your hair out into the trash bin by the door. It’ll definitely take time to dry off, both your hair and your clothes are soaked through.

Hyunjin watches with an amused look, arms crossed as he leans his back against the counter.

“Might as well have. It’s insane out there.” you sigh. “How was your break?”

You look up to find that his face has gone unreadable.

“Yeah, about that…” Hyunjin trails off, voice suddenly smaller than before.

“Everything okay?” 

“Yeah, yeah it’s just–” Hyunjin chews at his bottom lip.

You push past him into the supply room to switch out your apron just as he says, “Do you mind if I leave a little early today?”

You scoff, turning to face him. “Hwang Hyunjin,” you scold, lips twitching when he visibly startles at your tone, “You don’t have to ask me that. We’re partners now, remember? We run this place.” 

He shifts on his feet, still unsure.

“Besides,” you huff, tying a knot behind your back, “We were friends way before that, too. You don’t have to be all proper with me. Of course you can leave early. It’s slow today, I can take care of it.”

Hyunjin sighs after contemplating for a second. “Are you sure you’ll be okay, though?” 

When he stares at you for a moment too long, you know the real reason for his hesitation. It makes something twist deep in your gut.

Guilt, maybe, amongst other things.

“Of course.” you shrug, doing your best to seem nonchalant. 

Hyunjin’s ability to read people is kind of intense, a little scary at times. You happen to be one of his favorite subjects in that regard.

“Have fun. Tell Minah I said hi.”

He pales, sputtering around words as he struggles to say something. It’s cute, his plump lips opening and closing, eyes wild.

“I’m not going to see her! I’m–it’s just a movie! How did you—God, you’re so annoying. I should’ve made you trim the tulips. Hah!”

You giggle. “It’s funny that you think I wouldn’t know, especially with the way you love to actually make yourself look busy whenever she stops by to say hi.”

“I am busy.” he mumbles, looking away. “I just emphasize it a lot more when she’s here.”

“Sure,” you roll your eyes, “Let’s go with that.”

He whines a couple more times, trails after you around the shop and laughs when you swat him away with a rolled up newspaper that’s used for wrapping vases.

It’s loud. Easy. Hyunjin is a gentle reminder that normalcy still exists in your day to day, even if it’s hard to find. 

When he finally decides to leave, he lingers for a moment, triple checks that you’ll be okay. You roll your eyes for what feels like the millionth time today, but deep down you’re grateful. 

“Love you,” he says, one foot out the door. “Call me if you need anything.”

You shake your head, ignoring him. “Love you too.” 

And then he’s gone, a skip in his step as he heads down the sidewalk, leaving you with nothing but freshly-trimmed tulips and the sound of rain. 

“Herb snips, shears, tape…” you mumble, scanning the supply shelf. 

There’s not much to do in-shop right now. Almost all the arrangements have been tended to by Hyunjin already, his specialty being his keen eye. That’s why he handles the appeal of the shop, leaving you to figure out all the logistics. Learning it all was easier said than done.

In reality, it was never your intention to take over the shop at all. 

“When I die,” your grandma would always say, ignoring the way you groaned and begged her to stop bringing it up, “Sell this place. Use the money for something worthwhile. A trip to Greece, maybe?”

“Nana,” you would scold, glaring at her where she stood next to you, trimming a batch of roses.

Wrinkled hands that still held all the skill of youth. Fingers moving at a speed others could only ever dream of having– you included.

Your grandma handled flowers with the same amount of care she did everything else. It’s no wonder that when they grew they would lean in her direction, drawn to her like they would be the sun. 

“I’m not selling this place. It’s too special, too important. A vacation only lasts so long, Nana. This is forever.”

She would smile, turn petals over in her hand. Sometimes the marigolds would match the glow in her eyes, a testament to the belief you harbored as a child that she had the ability to sprout blossoms from her fingertips.

“The one thing you shouldn’t do, my dear, is rely on forever. Because that, too, is uncertain.”

You wish you hadn’t been so hard headed. Wish that you would’ve believed her, taken the time to listen, cherished the moment a little bit longer instead of relying on the promise of tomorrow.

I’m sorry for your loss.

Your grandmother was a wonderful woman.

She’ll be with you in your heart, forever.

Oh, what a lie forever is.

The shop stays empty for the rest of the day. There were a few passersby, all of whom simply stopped to scan the arrangements along the windows before giving a polite nod and carrying on their way. 

Realistically, the shop has no problem with attracting customers. It’s a sight to behold: mid-floor to ceiling windows with various displays, hanging baskets of winding greenery, countless arrangements that fill the shelves and add a pop of color, and a wide assortment of flowers for each season. 

The real issue lies in your inability to sell. Most people regard the place as being good for nothing more than window shopping and the usual photo-op.

Business has slowed since your Grandma passed; since you took over as the sole owner and were suddenly face to face with the task of making decisions in the shop’s best interest– both integrity wise and from a business standpoint.

“I know, I know,” you say around the pen cap between your teeth, “You used to be the brains around here, not me. I’m not creative enough for all of this, you know? No matter how much I try to be.”

You look up from where your notebook lays open, dozens of scribbles for arrangement ideas and planning. The picture on the wall stares at you, unmoving, eyes as bright as marigolds.

“Don’t give me that look.” 

She stares. A gaze that holds all the answers while also saying nothing at all.

“Ugh.” you groan, leaning your palms on the desk.

You allow your head to hang forward, defeated, exhaustion flooding your bones. 

Just as you’re about to speak again, to complain about yet another thing that probably has her rolling around in her grave, the bell at the front counter dings.

The clock on the desk reads 6:55pm, five minutes until close. You hadn’t even heard anyone come in.

“Be right there!” you call out, rushing to grab your apron from where you’d thrown it on one of the chairs. 

In your haste, the box of seed packets you’d been inventorying goes tumbling to the floor.

“Fuck,” you mutter, bending down to pick everything up. One more thing to add to the list today. 

Off-kilter. Disoriented. Exhausted. 

You sniffle a few times, blinking against the sting behind your eyes as you stand up to put the box back in its place.

One deep breath, a shake of your shoulders. Just enough to chase it all away until later. 

“Sorry about that,” you say cheerily, pushing past the hanging beads that separate the front of the shop from the back. “How can I help you?”

There’s a stranger, his back turned, attention focused on a batch of tulips. Freshly cut. White, blue, purple.

You realize, belatedly, that you’d forgotten to grab your apron in your haste to clean up the seed packets. Another slip up. Nana always prided herself in her apron, wore it like a badge of honor, raised you to do the same.

Just as you spin around to grab it, the stranger says, “It’s okay. I just, um, I wanted to say hi.”

You freeze. There’s a long moment where his voice rings loud in your ears, reverberates against the walls of your brain until it travels through your blood, the feeling like wildfire in your veins until it settles deep in the pit of your stomach. 

Slowly, you turn, heart clamoring in your chest, threatening to stop altogether as soon as you come face to face with the one person you never thought you’d see again.

Because there, at the front of the store, is Jisung.

Jisung, with wide eyes and parted lips. Jisung, with hair that still curls at the ends and falls in shags around his face. Jisung, broader, more actualized, now grown into his features but still undeniably soft around the edges. Jisung, with thick framed glasses pushed up his nose and silver hoops dangling from his ears. 

A stranger. But undoubtedly Jisung. 

“You look…nice.” he says, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly with his free hand.

Three words is all it takes. Ice turns to fire. The blood that had drained from your face returns with the blaze of a thousand suns, anger burning your throat. 

You reach forward, grab the remote for the neon Open sign and click the power button. Jisung watches in confusion.

“The shop is closed.” you manage on a shaky breath.

Jisung sighs, something heavy. “Listen, I’m—”

“The shop–” you try again, louder, “–is closed.” 

Jisung stares. His eyes are still the same velvety brown; big and round and just as you remember. 

There was once a time where the sight of Jisung in your Grandma’s shop made your heart sing. A soft tune, the thrum of a thousand harps, a song only for him.

His heart-shaped smile as he helped her hammer some of the shelves onto the wall. The sound of his laughter whenever you’d enter a sneezing fit from accidentally rubbing your face with a gloved hand. His rosy cheeks, burnt from the wind whipping past his face as he ran on foot to make sure you were okay the one time an angry customer smashed a vase on the floor and you called him crying.

But now, seeing him here, a stranger in a body you once knew like the back of your hand— it feels wrong. 

“I…” he trails off, registering the way your fists are clenched at your sides. 

“Okay,” he resigns, licking his lips. “I, uh– have a good night.”

He gives you one last look, bottom lip pulled tight between his teeth, and then slips out the door. You watch his retreating figure through the glass panel, dark gray skies muting the sound of your rattling heart.

It’s February. The tulips are in bloom. Jisung is back.

And in Jeju– it rains.

There’s an apple tree in the middle of town where Jisung told you he loved you for the first and last time. 

Off the corner, a few minutes down the road from where your houses stand a mere five hundred feet away from one another.

Your grandparents were farmers. Your grandma started her floral business a few years before you were born, a dream she always had that your grandpa urged her to pursue once he decided to sell the animals to a younger, more capable couple that could take care of them. 

Jisung’s parents, new residents on the island, looking to settle down and start a family. 

That’s how it happens. Yours and Jisung’s story, two authors of the same book, destined since the start.

Jisung was born on the same night your mother left you at your grandparents’ doorstep. One note, an apology, is all you’ve ever known about her. Your grandma never cared to indulge you. You’re glad in a way. She provided more than enough love to make sure you never felt an absence in her wake. 

The townspeople used to say you and Jisung were soulmates. Something about the heavens knowing he would need a friend, hence why you were delivered that night. From that moment on, the two of you were inseparable. 

Attached at the hip, you and Jisung grew up together. First steps, first birthdays, firsts for everything under the sun.

Jisung was there in the morning to walk with you to school and he was there at night when the two of you tucked into bed, sleepovers a regular occurrence, both of you counting the pale green stick-on stars dotting his ceiling until you fell asleep. 

Jisung was always around. He held your hand and walked with you to the nurse’s office the first time you got stung by a bee. He wiped your eyes when the boy you liked told you he only ever saw you as a friend, your first rejection. He sat with you under the stars the night your grandpa died, your face tucked into his neck as you stained the collar of his shirt with tears until you were too tired to cry. In the years that followed, he took care of you and your grandma like the two of you were his own. 

Jisung, for lack of a better word, was your first forever.

“You could come with me, you know.” 

Under the stars, real ones that time, Jisung had turned to you and offered the world. 

The air was cold. The apple tree was bare.

“It’ll be fun. We’ll be together, we’ll experience new things. I can do music and you can study all that history stuff you like to learn about. You know, nerdy things.”

“They’re not nerdy things, Ji. Don’t you know everything we have now is because of what’s happened before us?” you’d asked. “Doesn’t it make you wonder? Learning about the past helps us better understand the present, and ultimately the future.”

Jisung had hummed softly, an agreement. “I don’t care about the future, though.” he’d said. “I care about right now. You, me, this.” 

When you turned to look at him, he propped himself up on one elbow and stared down at you from above as the moon casted a halo around his head. 

“I love you,” he whispered, “And I want you to come with me.”

Jisung, with all the stars in his eyes and a heart full of dreams. Jisung, with the world at his fingertips and the ambition to make it his own. 

You, with all your hopes stuffed tight into a suitcase and chained to a boulder, thrown into the ocean. Sinking and sinking until it hit the bottom.

“I love you too,” you whispered back.

Images of marigolds flashed behind your eyes when you closed them, a tear rolling down your cheek. Jisung’s mouth was soft when he kissed it away, salt on his lips. Burning. 

“But I can’t.” you choked. 

Under the apple tree, Jisung told you he loved you for the first and last time. He promised that the distance would be no match for him, that he would traverse oceans to find his way back. He promised forever.

It was February. The tulips were in bloom. Jisung left to pursue his dreams with a guitar on his back and your heart in his hands. Your understanding of forever was shot at point blank. The bullet passed clean through you. 

And in Jeju– it rained.

“I think you should talk to him.”

The sun is out today. Perfect weather for another field harvest. The distributor had called you early in the morning to ask if you’d be willing to accept a drop off even though it’s the weekend. You’d agreed, calling in your most reliable help for the job.

“And I think you’re not helping.” you huff, snipping the head off another hyacinth.

“Agreed,” Hyunjin parrots from beside you, currently in the middle of putting together an arrangement, “This guy sounds like a total dick.”

Chan sighs from behind the two of you, his knees knocking against the legs of the desk when he swivels back and forth in the chair. 

Besides Hyunjin and Jeongin, both of whom moved into town after you’d already graduated, and of course, Jisung– Chan is your oldest friend. 

Chan was also a neighbor of yours. Three years older than you and Jisung, he was the one who acted as a role model for the two of you when growing up. Nowadays he helps his parents run the largest orange grove on the island during the day and DJs one of the clubs in the tourism hub at night. 

“Jisung’s not a dick, he’s just–”

“An asshole.” you finish, smirking when Hyunjin cackles. 

Chan sighs. Again. “Yeah okay, I’ll give you that one.”

“Listen, I know I’ve never met him, but isn’t it weird that he just, like, showed up?” Hyunjin asks, setting down his scissors. You continue trimming the hyacinths, listening halfheartedly.

“I mean, think about it. Dude disappears to pursue music, right? He’s gone for what– three years?”

“Four.” you correct.

“God, even worse.” he grimaces.

“But yeah, okay, four years. And then boom! He just strolls in through the front door without so much as a word during the time he was gone? No letters, no phone calls, not even a damn visit. Nothing! All so he can pop up and go ‘oh, you look nice’? Come on.” he scoffs, crossing his arms.

You wince, caught off guard because you’ve never really heard it phrased as bluntly as Hyunjin put it just then. It’s no surprise that he’s annoyed, having only just heard the full story thirty minutes ago. He’d been shocked, partly because you never told him and also because he just couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Okay, yes, he was wrong for that. But isn’t part of you even just the least bit curious as to why?” 

You pause mid-snip, mulling Chan’s words over in your head.

The most frustrating part about it all is that you are curious. You wish you weren’t, though. Not when you’ve spent the past four years trying to convince yourself that you don’t need to know what Jisung’s been up to, don’t need to know if he’s been okay since he clearly held no concern for you in that regard anyways.

“What?” you ask when you realize that both boys are staring at you. 

“Well?” Hyunjin pushes. “Are you?”

You shrug. “No, not really.” 

There’s a total of five seconds that pass before Hyunjin is stomping over and hauling Chan up out of his chair, pushing him towards the front door as he protests.

“Out! Out, out, out, we have important business matters to discuss.”

“But we were supposed to get lunch—!”

“We’re taking a rain check!” Hyunjin fights back, shoving him out of the shop before he has a chance to answer. He drops the shade to cover the glass, Chan’s sad figure left alone on the other side.

You gape at him. “What was that for?”

Hyunjin scoffs. “You think you’re convincing? Think again.” 

He hops up on to the counter and gestures for you to do the same. When you do, he pulls you closer, grabs your hand in his, and pushes your head down until it’s resting on his shoulder. 

“Tell me the truth now,” he says, soft. “I know there’s more to it.”

Hyunjin’s warm to the touch. The heat seeps through the fabric of his shirt, igniting the skin of your cheek until you feel like you’re standing too close to the sun. A star. Hyunjin is a light in your tunnel.

“I am curious,” you start, “About him, I mean. I’ve– I don’t know. It’s been so long. I tried to pretend I didn’t care when I saw him, but the minute I looked into his eyes it was like I was eighteen again. Eighteen and happy and looking at someone that I always thought would be there, you know?” 

Hyunjin hums but doesn’t say anything. He squeezes your hand once, a signal to keep going. 

“I’m scared, though. Part of me doesn’t want to know.”

Hyunjin takes a deep breath. “What are you scared of?”

Through the gaps in the beads you can see into your office, the picture of your Grandma hanging on the wall. She stares at you, unblinking. 

“What if he tells me that it’s true?” you ask, lifting your head to look up at him. “What if he says that I was right, that he didn’t care? That he left and didn’t want to call because it no longer mattered to him? That he loves his life there and only came back to clear his own conscience?” 

“Oh honey,” Hyunjin soothes, pulling you into his chest. You hadn’t realized you were crying, that the anger and fear had bubbled over until there were tears falling down your cheeks, wetting the fabric of Hyunjin’s sweater. 

He lets you cry for a while. It’s nothing new; Hyunjin has seen you break down countless times. He’s been there through the worst of it, held your hand even in the aftermath. He’s picked you up off the floor more times than you can count, has grounded you when you felt like the world was gonna open up beneath you and swallow you whole. Salt of the earth, returning you to its core.

Once you’ve quieted into nothing more than shallow breaths and a few scattered hiccups, Hyunjin speaks again.

“Can you be honest with me?”

You nod, the hair stuck to your cheek with tears rubbing against his shoulder. 

“Do you love him?”

It nearly knocks the wind out of you. This concept, so foreign to you now, shoved to the back of your mind to make room for the things that matter most. Hospital visits, labor cuts, wage increases— none of it left any room for love, let alone the thought of someone else. Especially someone as all-consuming as Jisung.

Slowly, you inhale, breath shaking on the exhale. Hyunjin squeezes your hand to remind you that he’s there.

“I don’t think I ever stopped, Hyune.”

The silence stretches thin. The realization is dizzying. Years of suppressed emotions, of telling yourself and everyone around you that it wasn’t a big deal. The sad eyes of the townspeople whenever they’d see you sitting beneath the apple tree. The gentle touch of your grandma’s hand when she’d find you on the front steps alone, staring at the stars. The soft hum of the radio in the shop, set to a playlist of all the songs he’s written, the only reminder that somewhere out there he was doing well.

The final crack in the dam, its water pushing until it gives way.

“Then you owe it to yourself,” Hyunjin says. “You owe it to your heart to get an answer. Free yourself from this pain, love. Don’t let yourself suffer forever.”

Forever. That word again. No matter how many times you’ve tried to escape it, it always comes back.

“It’s gonna hurt.” he sighs, tightening his grip when you sniffle. “It’s gonna hurt so fucking bad, babe. But you can take it. You’ve got people who love you enough to stand in front of you and soften the blow from time to time. But you’ll be okay. I’ll make sure of it.”

He hops down from the counter and moves to stand in front of you, right between your legs. Placing both hands on your shoulders, he pushes until you’re sitting with your back straight and lifts your chin. 

“You deserve an answer.” he says, with conviction this time. “Okay?”

He lets his thumb swipe beneath your eyes, smiles softly. Unconditional— that’s what he is. Hyunjin burns brighter than any star in your sky, the heat wrapping its arms around you like it’s too scared to let go, to watch you freeze and die out like so many others. 

“I don’t deserve you, though.” you say, laughing wetly when he rolls his eyes.

“Shut up,” he chuckles, pulling you in for a hug, “You deserve everything and more.”

When Jisung comes into the shop two days later, you’re ready for it. 

Chan had talked to him. No surprise, really, not when he’s been letting him crash in his spare room ever since he figured out that he was holed up in one of the hotels out in the tourism hub. 

If there’s one thing about Chan, it’s that he’d rip the shirt off his back to clothe anyone in need. Housing a friend is nothing, especially when that friend is Jisung.

“I don’t know how much of a consolation this is,” he’d said nervously, watching as you regarded him with an expectant look, “But he’s pretty cut up about you not wanting to see him. Which, I know, is stupid. He is the one who fucked up. But I just– I don’t know. I’ve never seen him like this, I guess.”

It’s not a consolation, not really. Knowing that Jisung is struggling is far from anything you want to hear. 

Sure, there’s anger present. Anyone would be stupid to not feel the least bit frustrated with what’s happened. Years lost, time stripped away. But you’ve long since come to terms with it, the anger turning to sadness in the meantime.

“Also, he leaves tomorrow.” Chan smiled sadly. “He really wants to talk to you before then.”

Hyunjin left early again today to give the two of you space. Not before making a show of his own though, threatening to incite violence with his arms that are supposedly ‘shredded’ from years of lifting boxes filled with petunias. 

The shop is slow again, not many sales nor a lot of foot traffic. Usually when the sun is out there’s more to do; people to see, smiles to give. But there’s nothing, just the chirping of birds and the sound of cars rolling by. 

Maybe the world knows that this is what you need. The calm before the storm. 

Five minutes until close. You’ve spent most of the day pacing back and forth. Waiting. Anticipating. 

Chan had said Jisung planned on stopping by, trying again. You’d told him that was okay, and his eyes lit up. Too much hope, maybe, that something might come of this. 

You’re seated in the back office, staring at marigold colored irises when the front door opens. You hear it this time, ears fine tuned, waiting. 

Slowly, you stand, make your way to the front. You don’t realize you’re holding your breath until you pull back the beaded curtain and Jisung’s figure comes into view. 

He looks the same as he did the other day: curled hair, thick glasses, parted lips. His sweater, fluffy and striped, hangs off of his shoulders in a way that boxes off his tapered waist, one that you know is hidden beneath all the layers. The sleeves are way too long judging by the way it curls over his fingers. 

“Hi.” he breathes out, watching as you step into full view.

You blink. “Hi, Jisung.”

His name feels weird on your tongue. Bitter. It’s been years since you uttered it, forbidding yourself from the luxury out of fear that it would make his absence more real. Talking about him in the past tense always scared you off before you could even get the chance. 

“How– How’ve you been?” he chews on the inside of his lip.

You want to scold him, tell him to stop the habit just like you always would in the past. He’d make a joke then, tell you to kiss him so that he had something else to do instead. You would laugh, feign disgust, but in the back of your mind you’d wanted it more than anything. 

You’d waited for it, the day you could kiss him without warning and melt into his touch as he kissed you back. Another stupid bet on forever; the belief that you had all the time in the world for things to get to that point.

“I’ve been better.” you say, taking a deep breath. “What about you?”

Good, you think. He’s been good. He looks good. He doesn’t need this place.

“Me too.” he says instead. “I’ve been better.”

You don’t know what to say to that. Silence fills the room, heavy on both your chests. The anticipation feels like it might kill you before anything else does. 

“I’m sorry that–”

“Is that all you came here to say?” you cut him off.

“What?” he asks, confused. “No, I– no.”

“What, then? What is it you want to say, Jisung?” your voice is firm. He winces when his name leaves your mouth. “Because, honestly, I’ve waited all this time to hear literally anything from you, and if all that comes out of this is that you’ve ‘been better’ I might actually lose my fucking mind.”

The words tumble out faster than you intend. You can’t help it, not with the way anxiety has been bubbling over in your chest since the moment you woke up this morning. You could barely sleep last night, not when you were playing out every possible scenario in your head, the anticipation of it all making your sheets feel scratchy against your skin and the lumps in your pillow more discernible. 

“No, no, of course I wouldn’t do that.” he says quickly. “It's just that I didn’t know where to start. I don’t know how much you’ll allow me to say, what the boundary is here. I didn’t want to just barge in and demand you listen to me. You don’t owe me that. You don’t owe me anything. Not after what I did.”

What I did, his voice rings loud in your ears. He’s aware of it, of the pain he caused. 

He takes a step forward, and then another, again and again until he’s right up against the front counter, an arm’s length away. 

Your breath catches then, when you see him up close for the first time in four years, see the way he’s grown and changed with your own eyes. 

Stubble dotting his chin, laugh lines around his mouth, the dip and curve of the bow above his lips that you always loved. Brown eyes, soil and stardust. 

“Tell me what your conditions are,” he says quietly, “And I’ll give you every explanation I have.”

The sincerity on his face is blinding. Your stomach twists at the thought of hearing what he has to say, that same fear brewing in the pit of it. You take a deep breath, feel the phantom ghost of a hand squeezing yours and a crescent moon eye smile. 

“I waited four years for you.” you say.

“I know.”

“I trusted that you’d be back. That you would keep in touch during the time you were gone.”

“I–” his voice cracks. “I know.”

“You lied to me.”

Jisung tips his head back then. Swallows down a lump in his throat. Blinks rapidly at the ceiling, veins of ivy crawling along the expanse of it.

“I know.”

“So you owe me everything. I deserve that. I deserve answers.”

When he brings his head down to look at you, it’s unreadable. A mix of emotions that you aren’t familiar enough with anymore to decipher. Fear, guilt, sorrow. Hope, too. Maybe.

You stare at him head on, fully letting your eyes meet for the first time in what feels like an eternity. He holds your gaze, unwavering. Determined. The sight makes your heart clench. 

“Okay,” he says after a beat of silence. “Okay. I can do that.”

Despite the ever-growing mountain of things to address, you decide that the first thing you want to hear from Jisung is about his time in Seoul. 

You’re only human, after all.

Best friends from the start– you can’t stop yourself from wondering what life has been like for him. Jisung’s always been good at storytelling, animated in his features and gestures to the point that you’d be rolling around and clutching your stomach from laughter. It’s one of the things you missed the most, just talking and being present in one another’s lives.

The two of you end up at one of the diners down the road. The owners, an elderly couple, coo as soon as they catch sight of you.

“My flower girl,” the old lady, Mrs. Kim, greets.

“Mrs. Kim,” you beam, moving in for a hug. When you pull away, Jisung is behind you, hands clasped behind his back and feet together like he has his tail between his legs.

“Halmeoni,” you say, gesturing at him, “Do you remember Jisungie?” 

His eyes go wide at the nickname, and you try to ignore the heat creeping up your neck, avoiding his gaze and instead watching as Mrs. Kim blinks in surprise.

“Oh! Oh my goodness, our Jisungie? Honey! Honey, look, Jisung is here! Oh you crazy boy,” she scolds, rushing forward to hit his shoulder and pull him in for a hug. “Where have you been? It’s been ages!” 

Jisung lets out an oof! as her body slams into him, all of his anxiousness dissolving into laughter as he hugs her back. 

“Hi Mrs. Kim, how have you been?” 

“Me?” she asks, pulling him away to hold at arm’s length, “Nevermind about me! I’m old! How have you been?”

Good, you think again, a mimic of earlier. Jisungs eyes flit over to yours for the smallest of moments before he answers.

“Better,” he says. “I’m doing better.”

Once both Mr. and Mrs. Kim are done doting over the both of you, they seat you by the window.

The island is always beautiful on sunny days: trees swaying, golden rays painting the rooftops in hues of pink and orange, the indigo shimmer of the ocean off in the distance.

“So,” you say, catching Jisung’s attention, “Tell me about Seoul.”

He hums. “It’s busy. Stinks. Lots of people.”

“Dream come true, yeah?” you joke, taking a sip of your water.

Jisung chuckles. “You could say that, I guess.”

“I mean, it was yours.”

“It was.” he sighs, looking down at the table. “I don’t know. It’s nice. I met good people, made even better connections. I live in this one bedroom studio apartment just outside of Itaewon, so I’m close to where all the foreigners hang out. I’ve learned a lot, gained a lot of inspiration for my music.”

You follow along, staring at him intently. His mouth, still heart-shaped, twitches when he catches you in the act.

You clear your throat, glancing away. “Yeah, I’ve– uh, I’ve heard some of your songs.”

He raises his eyebrows, almost like he hadn’t expected you to say that. “Really?”

“Yeah. I mean, I hear them on the radio sometimes.” A lie. “It usually takes me a second to realize that it’s you.” Another lie. “But they’re good, you’re doing well.”

Pink dusts the tops of Jisung’s cheeks as he turns back to the window, clearing his throat.

He looks younger like this, like he’s still the same boy who would sit across from you all those years ago. Cherry-stained lips and a smile so bright it put the sun to shame.

He talks a bit more about his music, about how he’s with a good company that gives him creative freedom and enough support to pursue more if he desires.

His eyes light up when he tells you about his studio, a small room on the fifth floor of a building in the middle of the city where he does all of his writing. It’s equipped with an entire soundboard, full of instruments that he says he’s been able to get signed by artists that come in and out. Most notably, his guitar, the same one he left with. 

Slowly, like a flower blossoming, petals opening one by one, you feel yourself falling back into step with him.

Everything is so familiar: the curve of his smile, the tilt in his voice when he gets excited, the rumble of laughter when he recounts an embarrassing run-in with an A-list celebrity in the company’s cafeteria. He shares stories that fill your heart as the two of you fill your stomachs.

But with the ease comes something more, something you recognize as longing. You hadn’t realized how much you longed to be there through this part of his life, how you wished you’d been the one to answer a video call as he showed off his apartment the first day he moved in, his company badge when it was newly issued, every moment of happiness that you’d been absent for just as much as he was absent for yours.

He seems to share the same sentiment then, when he sets down his fork and stares at his empty plate. 

“You run the shop now,” he says, “How’s that been?”

You purse your lips, nodding your head slowly. You knew this conversation would happen, that it was coming.

“It’s good, I guess. Been almost a year now since, uh, it was left to me.” you shrug. “I’m not alone though, Hyunjin is a big help. I don’t know what I’d do without him.”

Jisung noticeably bristles. Eyebrows pulled together, staring more intently at a crumb on his plate. It looks like there’s a lot he wants to say, like he can’t find the words to say them.

So, naturally, you do it for him. 

“I assume Chan told you so I wouldn’t have to, by the way.”

He looks up then, as if he wasn’t expecting you to address the very obvious elephant in the room.

“He did, yes.” Jisung says after a while. His voice is quiet, gentle, like he’s walking on eggshells. “I– I didn’t know how to bring it up. I assume you’ve heard it all already but– I really, really am sorry to hear about Nana.”

The way her name sounds coming out of his mouth turns your mind to static.

Suddenly you’re in the hospital again, monitors beeping, hands as soft as petals cradled in your own and wishing that you could bury your face in a familiar neck as you cried and watched the marigolds wilt. 

“I don’t need an apology for that.” you croak, blinking back tears. Jisung is somewhere in your periphery, your vision blurry around the edges.

“It wasn’t sad. Her life, I mean. It was full. Of love. Of light. She left this place happy. That’s what she told me, at least.”

You take a deep breath. “So don’t be sorry about it.”

Jisung sniffles, and the sound shoots straight through your chest. 

“I know. I just– I’m sorry I wasn’t here. I should’ve been. I had no idea that–”

“Nobody did, Jisung. Don’t punish yourself for that.”

He sees it then, when you finally meet his eyes, the acceptance. You’ve come to terms with things a long time ago, have fought tooth and nail to come out on the other side of all the guilt and resentment and grief alive. Scathed, but alive nonetheless.

“You’re right.” he sighs, wiping at his eyes quickly. “She’d probably yell at me for saying that.”

You laugh, suddenly, the noise startling him. Jisung looks at you like you’re crazy.

“I think she has a lot more to yell at you for than being sorry that she died.”

The bluntness punches a chuckle out of him, and you giggle at the thought.

Your grandmother was always such an outspoken person. She always said what was on her mind, speaking it loud. There’s no doubt that if she was here she’d be berating Jisung, smacking him upside the head before pulling him into a hug and cooking his favorite meal. Tough love, but still, love.

“She would’ve loved to be able to see you.” you say once your laughter dies out, the air a bit lighter between the two of you. “She always wondered if you’d grow your hair out without her around to nag you about keeping it short.” 

He reaches up to run a hand through his curls, the strands falling around his face in a way that has your heart stammering in your chest.

“Well, clearly I don’t know how to listen.”

“No, you don’t.”

Jisung smiles softly. “Maybe I’ll cut it now. You know, since I’m here. And because I know she’d want me to.”

You watch him carefully, searching his eyes. For what, you don’t know. All that’s in them are stars. 

“Yeah,” you say quietly. “You’re here.”

By the time the two of you leave the diner, stomachs full and enough bags of extra side dishes hanging off of your arms to last you at least two weeks, courtesy of Mrs. Kim, the sun is almost fully set. 

The ocean is calm, the evening breeze just barely brushing the surface of the tide. Jisung walks in step with you down the street, one side of his face cast in a glow from the sun’s fading rays. 

“Do you think you’d maybe want to stop by the arcade that Old Man Park runs? Just for a little?”

You snort. “Why? So I can embarrass you?”

“Hey!” he puts a hand on his chest, offended. “I’ll have you know that I let you win all those times.”

“How do you let someone win after spending hours practicing while I worked at the shop?”

“I was being nice!”

“Uh huh.”

“Don’t believe me?” he grins. You try not to look, afraid of how bad your blood pressure might spike from the sight. 

“I’ll have you know that I’m one of the best Kart Rider players in the PC Bang scene back in Seoul.”

“Jisung,” you scold, “That’s a computer game. These are coin-ops. There’s way more skill needed.”

“No there isn’t!”

He knocks his shoulder against yours, tucking his chin to his chest to hide his smile when you try to fight back.

It’s easy. Nice. There’s a soft melody echoing in the dust-covered chambers of your heart. You still know all the chords.

Old Man Park’s arcade is a few doors down from the shop. You stop there to drop off the food, spare a glance in the mirror hanging in your office to fix your hair.

Your grandma’s picture stares at you from the other wall, eyes bright.

“Love you,” you say, kissing the skin of your fingertips and pressing it gently against the frame.

Jisung is toeing at a few rocks on the sidewalk when you walk back out. He doesn’t see you, too busy with his eyes casted down at the concrete, hands shoved into his pockets. 

It’s still hard to believe that he’s here. Flesh and bone. For a long time it felt like he was nothing but a distant dream, someone who only existed in the memories that you kept locked deep within your heart, the key somewhere on the streets of Seoul.

“Ready?” you ask.

He looks up, his glasses moving when his cheeks round into a smile.

Something passes across his face– a myriad of emotions in just a fraction of a second. Hesitantly, he holds out his hand. Long, delicate fingers.

You stare at it, swallowing roughly around the butterfly wings flapping inside your throat. 

The one thing you shouldn’t do, my dear, is rely on forever. Because that, too, is uncertain.

Forever isn’t promised. But even then, there are things you know for sure:

It’s February. The tulips are in bloom. Jisung is here. Living, breathing, in the flesh. 

So you take his hand, watch as relief floods his features, and let yourself feel.

The wind in your hair, the calluses on Jisung’s palms, and the warmth radiating out of the smile that threatens to split his face into two.

And with that certainty, the two of you start walking. A silent agreement to focus on the now.

You. Him. This.

“God, I can’t believe everything is only one coin.”

You laugh, watching as the multi-colored lights cast a glow on Jisung’s face. 

“Stop acting like you don’t remember this place.”

“I don’t!” he argues, smiling. “We stopped coming here, what, in middle school? Once Chan hyung started driving? We would always ask him to take us to the other one out in the big town!”

Chan’s first car was an old Camry with leather seats and enough room for the three of you to pile into after school. Used, but still with enough juice to satisfy three young kids who felt like they were on top of the world.

You used to sit in the back, the wind whipping your hair every which way while yours and Jisung’s hands lay side by side in the middle seat, pinkies brushing but neither of you willing to take it further. 

“Oh, shit!” Jisung gasps, letting go of your hand as he runs up to the space invaders machine. 

“Here we go,” you sigh, following after him. He’s like a kid in a candy store, face filled with innocent wonder and joy.

“Aren’t there, like, I don’t know– things better than this in Seoul?” you ask as he shoves a coin into the game.

Jisung turns to look at you with a devilish grin. “Obviously,” he says, “But I can’t beat anyone’s high score over there. Here though? Ha! This place is ancient. I can finally be at the top of the leaderboard in something.”

“We’ll see about that.” you mumble, the noise of the game booting up drowning you out. 

Jisung sticks his tongue out when he focuses really hard on things. It’s cute, the way the end of it sits between his lips, spit-slick and parted just a little bit.

He’s glowing, probably because of the lights, hues of red and green and blue flashing across his face. But then again, Jisung has always shined brighter than anything. 

The game beeps to signal that he has one life left. He grunts a few times, his fingers tapping the buttons madly as his other hand handles the joystick in a frenzy of movements.

When it ends, he groans, throws his hands up in defeat.. 

You shake your own head knowingly, watching his eyes bug out of their sockets as soon as the leaderboard appears on the screen, the 8-bit letters blinking at him. 

“You’re joking.” he laughs in disbelief, turning to stare at you. “Please tell me you’re joking.” 

There, on the screen, is your name. The highest score. Jeongin and Hyunjin’s names sit just below you, respectively.

“What was that again about finally being able to be at the top?” you mock him, smirking.

“Since when did you get good at this?”

You shrug. “Had to find something to do in my free time.”

“No,” he says, rolling up his sleeves. “Nuh-uh. No way. This is not happening. I will beat you.” he holds out his hand for another coin, to which you roll your eyes and place one in his palm. 

“You might as well give up now. We’ll be here all night.”

“In your dreams.” he scoffs, assuming his position as another round loads onto the screen.  

Jisung has always been competitive. It’s one of his more hidden characteristics. 

It persists still, you realize, as you watch him burn through the styrofoam cup of coins that Old Man Park had given the two of you. Free of charge for old time’s sake.

Fort-five minutes. All he’s managed to do is bump Hyunjin down to fourth.

“Ugh!” he groans, kicking the machine lightly with his foot. 

“Look at you throwing a tantrum.”

“I’m not throwing a tantrum.” he pouts. You raise an eyebrow.

“Okay fine. I’m throwing a tantrum.” 

“Thought so.”

“Can you blame me?” he asks. “This is, like, our first date. And I’m sucking. Hard.”

“Our–” you stop, eyes wide. Jisung mimics you, almost like he didn’t mean to say what he did. 

Heat rushes to your cheeks. Your mind goes blank. But the world doesn’t end. Time keeps moving. Jisung is still here.

“I didn’t–”

“I like the sound of that.” you say quickly. “Of this being our first date, I mean.’

He smiles. Slow and sweet like molasses. Blinding.

“And the fact that you suck.”

The moment is shattered, his resulting whine echoing throughout the arcade.

“Come on you big baby,” you laugh, grabbing his hand. “I know a game you can beat me at.”

He lets himself be pulled, pretending that he’s upset, but you can see the smile tugging at his lips when you lace your fingers together.

The feeling is still new, this ease you have with him. The wounds you sported all those years are still healing, some more fresh than others. But with each laugh that comes out of Jisung’s mouth and shared glance, every note that your heart sings, you can feel them beginning to fade. A balm to soothe the burn.

The Pac-Man game is situated in the back corner of the arcade, right next to the jukebox. It used to be your favorite, because Jisung would always use his own coins to play songs for you while you tried to score higher than twenty-five thousand points. 

When you get there, he frowns. “The only game you think I can beat you at is Pac-Man?” 

“I don’t think,” you say, grabbing a coin before shoving the cup into his chest. “I know.”

The game boots up instantly, and you smile softly to yourself when Jisung moves wordlessly behind you, slips a coin into the jukebox.

“Play something good, Jisungie.”

He freezes. Out of the corner of your eye you watch him stare at you for a long moment. And then he smiles. Stardust.

“You got it.”

In a matter of seconds, Lovers In A Dangerous Time by Bruce Cockburn rings throughout the arcade, the speakers on the ceiling fighting past the static.

An old song. The same one your grandparents would dance to in the mornings, eggs on the stove and love in the air.

Your grandma used to say it was written for them, because when they fell in love the war was at its peak and she didn’t know if he’d ever come home. 

After he passed, she still played it, except those times it was Jisung who twirled her around and painted a smile on her face as you watched from the same spot you grew up in. Always there.

Jisung, Jisung, Jisung. 

When the game starts, you try your best. It’s hard. You’ve always been terrible at anything involving quick decisions. Focusing on everything at once isn’t easy for you, that much is still true. 

“Shit.” you mumble, the top right corner of the screen reading ten thousand points as the ghosts run into you.

Jisung lets out a low whistle. “Harsh.”

“You wanna go back to space invaders and waste the last of our money?” you raise an eyebrow. 

He holds his hands up in surrender. “Sorry, sorry. Go ahead.” he says, holding the cup out for you to take another coin. 

You try a couple more times, failing each and every one. You can tell that Jisung is growing more and more amused with every attempt, and the smugness radiating off of him is starting to rub you the wrong way.

“If you’re so good,” you say after a particularly sad attempt, turning to glare at him. Jisung has his lips pulled tight to stop himself from laughing. “Then why don’t you try?”

He chuckles then. “I’d rather help you, if you’ll let me.”

“How are you supposed to do that? We only have one coin left.”

Jisung doesn’t say anything. He puts the cup down, the last coin held between his fingers. You watch as he slips it into the machine, move to get out of his way once he’s done, but he stops you by grabbing your hand and spinning you back around, his fingers placed over yours on the joystick. 

With your back flush against his front, caged in by his arms on either side, Jisung takes a deep breath.

“This okay?” he asks right next to your ear, the curls on the side of his head brushing your cheek when he leans down to get a better look at the screen.

Warm. He’s so warm. The material of his sweater only worsens the heat, and the faint scent of vanilla makes your head swim.

It’s more than okay. Great, even. It’s Jisung. Everything and more.

“Yeah,” you say, letting him control your hands as he flicks the joystick. “It’s okay.”

The hair against your cheek moves when he smiles. “Good.” he says, and then hits the start button.

The game begins but you’re barely processing what’s happening, too aware of the feeling of his body pressed against yours. 

A firm chest, different from what’s observable on the outside, what with the fluffiness of his sweater and soft features. His arms too, encasing you, the bulge and flex of his biceps every time he moves.

It’s all so intoxicating, so much so that you don’t even realize you’ve beaten the highest score in the system by the time he loses his last life. 

“What?” you blink. “What the hell?!”

You laugh, spinning to face Jisung who’s grinning from ear to ear. In your excitement, you jump, flinging your arms around his neck. He’s surprised, but catches you nonetheless, circling his arms around your waist.

“Holy shit how’d you do that!” you squeal while he swings you around, feet off the ground.

“Magic, I guess.” he chuckles. 

The closeness of his voice brings you crashing back down, suddenly aware of what position you’re both in. You pull back quickly, clear your throat, and watch as his face falls from the loss of contact.

It’s been a long time since you hugged Jisung. The thought transports you to that day four years ago, standing under the apple tree, the future uncertain. Forever promised.

Things are different now.

“Sorry,” he backtracks. “I didn’t– um, I wasn’t trying to–”

You cut him off by throwing yourself at him for a second time. Intentional. Breathless. Tired of running and acting like it’s not the thing you want most in the entire world.

Jisung doesn’t react until he feels your face against the skin of his neck. On instinct, he hugs tight, hands around your waist, breathing in the smell of your hair.

“Hi.” you whisper against him. 

One word. Simple. However the weight of it sends a chill down his spine. It feels like home. 

He tightens his hold. A silent understanding. The two of you never had much of a need for words anyways. 

“Hi.” he whispers back.

The apple tree is much bigger now.

Long, thick branches, a wide trunk, a slight tilt in its shape.

It’s bare. The season is long gone. But it’s okay, because it means that the view of the stars isn’t blocked when you and Jisung lay beneath it.

It’s the same but it isn’t. There’s gaps– periods of time where the two of you grew separately. There are moments and memories tucked away that neither of you know about, whole lives to discover. 

But even so, it feels right. His arm wrapped around you, your head on his chest. The stars and the moon. You and Jisung.

It’s nice. Perfect, even. But there’s a conversation that needs to be had. One that can’t be put off any longer.

“Ji.”

“Hm?”

“Can I ask you something?”

Jisung shifts beneath you, tightening his hold. The grass is damp. Neither of you care, too caught up in each other to stress about whether or not it’ll stain.

“Of course.”

“Am I ever gonna see you again?”

He takes a deep breath. “Yes.”

“You said that last time.”

“I know.”

“So what makes this different?” you ask, sitting up. He watches you carefully, eyes trained on every movement like he’s scared you’ll get up and run away.

When he realizes you’re waiting for an answer, he sits up too, pulls his knees to his chest and wraps his arms around his legs. 

He doesn’t say anything, just wordlessly reaches into his pocket. Silently, he hands whatever he grabbed to you. A guitar pick.

It’s white, a marbled design. Golden flecks infused into the lines. There, on the front, is a singular marigold. When you flip it over, you’re met with a tulip. 

“Do you remember that one time, when you called me crying at midnight because Nana told you that she didn’t know if she’d be able to afford school in the city?”

You nod silently, still turning the guitar pick over in your hand. 

It was one of those nights where the rain was relentless. Monsoon season always tagged on to the tail end of the school year, bringing with it a more intense gloominess than usual. 

You’d been angry. Stressed. Irritated that other kids at school were making plans to go to the mainland for college and you were stuck helping your grandmother trim foliage and wrap vases in newspaper.

“You told me that you couldn’t do it anymore.” Jisung whispered, staring up at the sky. “That you were tired of being here. That you needed to get out.”

You remember. Jisung had walked through the rain to show up at your window. Had climbed in with muddy shoes and sat on the floor of your room with you until the downpour stopped and your tears dried.

“And I said that I would make it happen, that I would invent a way to live amongst the stars so you could be as far from here as possible.”

“So what?” you ask, looking at him. “Did you finally do it, then? Is that why you came back?”

“Don’t be like that.”

“No, Jisung, I’m gonna fucking be like that.” you scoff, rising to your feet. 

There’s a fire in your veins, stoked until the embers are burning hot against your throat. Too good to be true. You should’ve known that there was no explanation left for him to give.

Jisung scrambles to his feet. “It wasn’t like I wanted to–”

“Oh like hell you did.” you say, turning to face him. “Four years, Jisung. I waited four years and you just– you come back and decide to tell me about some make-believe bullshit to save yourself and feel less guilty about the fact that you left.”

“It wasn’t make-believe to me,” he argues. “It was real. Everything I said was real. I left and I tried for years to make something of myself so I could come back here and get you.”

“Oh so it’s my fault? I made you leave, is that it?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“So then say something else!” you yell. The stars rumble, threatening to fall out of the sky. “Say something else, then, Jisung. Why didn’t you call? Huh?”

“Because I–” he stops, licks his lips. “God. Fuck. I couldn’t face you if I had nothing to show for myself, okay? It wasn’t fair to you for me to leave you behind just so I could fail.”

“Ha!” you laugh, running a hand through your hair in disbelief. “So you decided to go radio silent instead? Decided to not only leave me alone but let me suffer and wonder about where you were because that’s so much better than telling me that you were struggling, right? Great choice, Jisung. Really.”

He blinks a few times, watching as you pace back and forth in the grass. 

Anger bubbles deep in your gut. This whole time, he knew. It was a conscious decision. Jisung deliberately didn’t contact you because he chose not to.

“Did you ever even love me?”

The words tumble out before you can stop them. Jisung’s entire body goes rigid, his face falling and eyes hardening within a fraction of a second.

“Watch what you say.” he says, his voice low in his chest.

“I wouldn’t have to if you’d just be honest.”

“I’m trying.” he pleads. His eyes are glossy. Big and round behind his glasses. Illuminated by the moon. 

“I fucked up, okay? I prioritized myself and the way I felt over you and fucked everything up. But I tried. I tried so fucking hard. And I’m sorry it took me so long but I wanted– no–  I needed to make sure that I had everything figured out before I came back. I promised I would.”

“No, Jisung, you promised me that–”

“I’m not talking about you.” he says then, taking a deep breath. “You weren’t the only one I made promises to back then.”

Before you have a chance to speak, Jisung says, “I promised her. I told her I’d get you out of here. That I’d give you a life that you deserved, because she knew she couldn’t.”

You drop to your knees when the first sob hits, the force of it racking your body so hard you feel like you’re drowning. Jisung catches you on the fall, holds you up, lets you bury your face into his neck like he had so many times before.

“She told me you believed in forever. She wanted me to give that to you. I’m sorry it took me so long.”

Jisung lets you cry. He holds you through the storm, your wails as loud as thunder and tears as heavy as rain. Four years in the making; the sky and the earth colliding until the dirt and layers of sediment give way to the molten core that’s been hiding beneath the surface all along.

Pain. Grief. All of it pent up and leading to this moment. 

“You should’ve told me.” you cry, beating a fist into Jisung’s chest. “You idiot. You fucking idiot. You should’ve told me.” 

Jisung pulls you in closer, takes each hit as long as it means that it’ll soften the blow on your heart. He whispers apologies in your ear, runs a hand through your hair. 

When it quiets again, the worst of the storm gone, he shifts so that your head is in his lap, his legs crossed and tucked beneath him. A few stray tears wet the fabric of his jeans, your eyes focused on the field of flowers across the street.

“I won’t ask you to come with me.” he says after a long while, when your breathing has evened out. “I know that things are different. You have a life here that you’ve made for yourself, responsibilities to bear as well.”

He pauses to push a few strands of hair out of your face. His fingers are gentle against the skin of your cheek.

“But I promise it’ll be different. I spent too long away from you, was too selfish for my own good. I won’t disappear again. I’ll call every day. I’ll visit. You’ll get every part of me that I kept away from you all this time, and I’ll get every part of you in return.”

Your heart thrums. The thought of having what you’ve wanted for so long. Of having Jisung.

“And when you’re ready, when you feel like you can’t do it anymore, there’ll be a place for you.”

His voice is firm. Confident. More sure than he’s ever sounded before in his life.

When you turn to face him, he’s already staring back. Jisung, with all the stars in his eyes and a heart full of dreams. Jisung, with the world at his fingertips and the offer to make it yours.

Under the apple tree, Jisung leans down and kisses you for the first time. Twenty four years in the making, soft and slow, his lips a perfect fit against yours. A starboy and his flower girl. His glow is so bright it makes blossoms sprout from her fingertips.

Soft curls tickle your eyelids when he pulls away to rest his forehead against yours. You reach up to run a hand through them, smiling softly when he presses a kiss to the tip of your nose. 

“I love you.” you say first this time. 

He reaches out a hand, closes it over your fist that’s still clutching the guitar pick. A marigold and a tulip, both working together to make a perfect harmony. 

“I love you, too.” Jisung whispers back. “Forever.”

Jisung stops by the shop early to say goodbye.

There’s less tears this time, less of a reason to be sad. But still, when he wraps his arms around you, vanilla filling your nose and curls against your face, you feel your composure crumble.

“Every day.” he says, repeating the same thing he did all night. “I promise. Morning and night. Also at lunch. Oh, and on your days off. Matter of fact, you can call when you’re on the toilet too.”

The last part earns him an elbow to the ribs, his laughter bubbling up and out of his throat as he tries to dodge any and all subsequent attacks.

He kisses you stupid before he goes, Chan rolling his eyes from his car out front. You flip him off blindly, Jisung’s lips still attached to yours, earning a loud honk in response.

When he leaves, the shop is quiet, the only sound being the buzzing of your phone as Jisung blows it up with text messages the second the car pulls away.

You’re too busy replying, giggling to yourself when a slew of cute emoticons start appearing one by one, that you nearly fall over out of your chair when Hyunjin bursts through the door.

“Jesus Christ Hyune, did you have to–”

“What the hell are you doing here?” he asks, breathless. 

“Uh,” you blink, glancing round. “Working?”

“Is Jisung not on a damn plane right now?”

“I mean he’s on his way to the airport. Chan is–”

“Chan hyung told me that Jisung wanted you to go with him.” Hyunjin says, brow furrowed.

You sigh. “He didn’t want me to go with him. Well, okay, he did. But I told him I can’t just pick up and leave. He knows that. Nana left this place to me and–”

“You are so stupid.” Hyunjin sighs. 

“Excuse me?” you ask. You stand up, crossing your arms as you walk closer to the counter. 

“Come on. We have to go.”

“Go where, Hyunjin? I’m not leaving to–”

He cuts you off, places an envelope on the wooden surface. “And I am not letting you stay here and pretend that this is what you want.”

“What is that?” 

“A plane ticket.” he says, pushing it towards you. “To Seoul.”

Your mouth opens and closes, lost for words. Hyunjin is already moving around the counter, pushing past you with an expression the most serious you’ve ever seen on him.

“Hyunjin I– I can’t– where did you even…?”

“Chan hyung has a friend.” he mumbles as he begins pulling stuff out of the office. Your planning notebook, your apron, the picture of your grandma off the wall. All of it thrown into a small box he managed to snag from somewhere off to the side.

“His name is Seungmin or something. Met him out in the tourist hub. Dude’s super rich with tons of miles and apparently owed Chan for a drunken night where he needed to be escorted to his hotel. So thanks to him, you’re leaving.” he explains as he grabs the box with both hands and starts walking towards the door.

“Wait.” you stop him, watching as he turns to regard you with a look that says his patience is running thin. 

“I told you I can’t leave, Hyunjin. This place is where I need to be.”

He huffs, places the box on the ground in front of him. His hair falls in waves around his face, a shimmery dark brown beneath the rays of the sun poking into the room. 

“Can you be honest with me?” he asks. 

You nod, slowly. 

“Do you love him?”

Hyunjin watches you with careful eyes. Reads you like a book, something he’s always been good at. You don’t doubt that it’s written on your face. Star-kissed cheeks and eyes as bright as marigolds. 

“So much that it hurts, Hyune.”

Hyunjin smiles, eyes watery. “Then you deserve to go. You deserve your chance to be free. Don’t worry about this place, I’ll take care of it.”

The familiar sting of tears sits behind your eyes. Your heart swells full of love for this friend, this light, this beacon of unconditional love in the shape of your best friend.

“I don’t have clothes.” you manage to say around the lump in your throat.

Hyunjin shakes his head, tears spilling down the bridge of his nose. 

“I’ll send them to you.”

“There’s a lot to do around here for just one person. What if you need me?”

“I’ll manage.” 

You round the corner quickly, throwing yourself into his chest. He catches you with ease, wraps his arms around your body as the both of you cry into each other.

“I’ll miss you.” you say weakly.

Hyunjin’s throat bobs against the top of your head. “I’ll always be here in our little corner of the world.”

The two of you stay like that for a while. Hyunjin’s warmth seeps into your skin, lights you ablaze. By the time he pulls away, his hands on your shoulders, you feel like you’re floating. Unreal.

“I don’t have a way to get there.” you say quickly, glancing at the clock. 

Jisung’s plane leaves soon. The airport, the only one on the island, is a thirty minute drive. You’re at a disadvantage the more time you spend not moving. 

“Don’t worry,” Hyunjin chuckles. “I’ve got that taken care of.”

You open your mouth to ask him what he means when you’re cut off by the sound of honking from outside. Confused, you run to the door, your jaw dropping as soon as you realize who’s waiting for you.

“Hurry up people we don’t have all day!” Jeongin calls, his upper body hanging out of the window. He’s parked outside in a beat-up truck, arms waving wildly when he spots you.

“Innie!” you scream, pushing through the door to run at him. He jumps out of the truck just in time for you to barrel into his chest, laughter loud in your ears as he spins you around. 

“You’re here! Oh my god I thought you weren’t coming for another two weeks.” you say in disbelief once he puts you down.

He looks older, more sophisticated. His hair is rusted and falls past his ears, the ends just barely touching his shoulders. 

“Yeah, well,” he shrugs. “I figured I’d show up earlier. You know, see you before you leave, catch up with my parents, help Hyunjin break into your house. The usual.”

“Help Hyunjin break into my what–” you say, but you stop when your eyes fall on the small suitcase in the backseat. Your own bag, the one that’s been sitting in your closet untouched for years now.

“For the last time,” Hyunjin says from behind you, carrying the box in his arms. “It’s not breaking and entering if I have a key. Which, by the way, I told you would come in handy one day.”

He sets the box down next to the luggage and dusts his hands on his pants. When he turns to face you, he’s smiling, eyes disappearing into crescent moons.

With tears threatening to spill once again, you stare at the both of them, your heart bursting at the seams. “I love you guys.”

Jeongin grimaces, opts for getting back in the driver’s seat as you laugh. Hyunjin rolls his eyes and ushers you inside of the truck.

“Yeah, yeah. Save it.” he says. “Right now, you have a plane to catch.”

The airport is crowded. 

There are tons of people everywhere, some saying hello and some saying goodbye. Hyunjin explained the gate system to you before you left him and Jeongin on the curb, and you keep glancing down at your ticket to make sure none of the information has changed in the past thirty seconds since you last looked. 

Thankfully, your gate isn’t far. With twenty minutes to go until boarding, you can feel the sweat building up beneath the hand that’s curled around your suitcase handle. 

It’s scary thinking about the fact that this is it. That you’re finally leaving. 

It’s bittersweet, too. There’s an excitement in the pit of your stomach as well as a feeling of dread in your chest, both of them meeting in the middle somewhere. 

You let your eyes scan the crowd, searching for wavy hair and thick-rimmed glasses. However, the first thing you see is the familiar neck of a guitar, strapped right on to a back that you would know and recognize anywhere without warning.

Jisung is seated near the gate, his eyebrows furrowed and lips set in a pout as he glares down at his phone. You realize that he’s probably wondering why you won’t answer, why all of his emoticons are going ignored. 

Quietly, you come up behind him, reach into your pocket, and say, “Excuse me? I think you dropped this.”

Jisung startles, his eyes falling on to the guitar pick being held out in your hand. Slowly, he lets his gaze follow upwards, wide-eyed and shocked.

“What– what are you doing here?” he asks. 

You place the pick in his hand. “I'm on my way to Seoul. There’s a guy there that I’ve been trying to find for a while.” you say. 

Jisung catches on quickly. “Oh, really?” he asks, moving over so you can sit beside him. “This guy must be pretty great if you’re leaving for the mainland.”

The rain starts hitting the tarmac outside right as you sit down. “Hm, yeah. He is. He really likes the stars. He says that he found a way for me to live in them, too.” 

He laughs, the sound making your stomach flip. “Sounds like you’re excited.”

You nod. “I am. He promised me that we’d do a lot together, experience new things. Apparently he’s gonna write songs and I’m gonna be a nerd.”

Jisung snorts and reaches across to link his hand with yours.

“He’s really lucky.” he says, leaning over to plant a kiss on your lips.

You smile into it. “So am I.” you whisper into his mouth, your heart stuffed to the brim with flower petals. 

And when Jisung smiles back, his other hand coming up to cup your cheek and give you another kiss with the force of a thousand suns, you feel the key you’d been searching for finally click into place. 

Salt of the earth. Soil and stardust. A boy who glows so bright that his girl sprouts blossoms from her fingertips. 

Forever isn’t promised. But then again, with Jisung by your side, there are things you know for certain:

It’s February. The tulips are in bloom. In Jeju– it rains.

And no matter what, despite all odds, you and Jisung will always find your way back to each other in the place where marigolds grow.

[tags: @skzstarnet @snowyquokka @palindrome969 @summergirlsmj @n1staytiny @drhsthl @strwbrrychannie @shays-library @giuliadesu @iknowyouknowminho @linocz @pynchkilledme @jisunglyricist @itsgghowitsgg @alician87 @skzms @meloncremesoda @ilychee08 @allaboutsan @legally-lixs @stayceebs97 @candyquokka @chans1aptop @liknws @realrintaro @beeracha @vxllxnsworld @feelikecinderella @caitxx1 @lilac13 @sebastianswhore13 @classiclitandmemes @hyunverse @linosazuna @lastgreatamericandynasty1 @bubbly-moon @cookiesandcreammy ]

#skzstarnet #han x reader #jisung x reader #han jisung x reader #han angst #jisung angst #han jisung angst #han fluff #han jisung fluff #jisung fluff #han au #han jisung au #jisung au #han imagines #han jisung imagines #jisung imagines #han scenarios #han jisung scenarios #jisung scenarios #skz fluff #skz angst #skz au #skz imagines #skz scenarios #han #han jisung #jisung #han fanfic #han jisung fanfic #han fanfiction

[ajaxsbeloved]

not sure if requests are open, (still new to tumblr) but can u write childe x fem!reader with ed? i just need comfort, i fell of recovery again

-: the road to recovery is not always steady :-

feat. childe

genre. comfort

summary. childe helps you get back on your feet when you slip

warnings: triggering topics, mentions of food, crying

authors note. tysm for this ask, as someone with an eating disorder this was an honor to write and i’m so sorry for posting it so late. thank you anon, you are brave and you are loved 🤍

In and out, with lungs meekly expanding and contracting as you stumble upon the streets of Liyue. Feeling weak you find some steps to rest on, with a pounding head you close your eyes and feel the world around you. It’s a typical day in Liyue; the streets are bustling and buzzing with chatter, shoppers and tourists visiting from around Teyvat. Getting back up there’s a rush to your head causing you to wince as your legs drag you back home, today was long and the sun was harsh. The feeling of fog overwhelms you, with a cloudy head you can’t seem to find where you’re going. Reaching out your hands everything feels distant almost as if you’re underwater, suddenly all you can recognize is the feeling of falling.

“(y/n)? (y/n) wake up”

Your eyes never hurt so much, with a mixture of a torturous headache and blinding light you manage to open your eyes and look around without moving too much.

“Where am I?”

You gather your strength as you try to sit up but an arm wrapped in gray stops you and lightly guides you to lay back down.

“Don’t move. You’re at home, just take it easy.”

Turning your head you find Childe at the side of the bed, his usual battle attire off and his more casual gray button up adorning his body. His eyes soften as they meet yours, a warm smile curling up his lips.

“What happened?”

“You passed out, Zhongli called me.”

“Oh. I’m sorry, I didn't mean to inconvenience you.”

You sit up again, this time without his interference. Throwing your legs over the bed you hold your breath looking at them and feeling dull, throwing your feet onto the ground you nearly trip over your feet if not for grabbing onto Childe like your life depended on it.

“Get bad in bed (y/n)”

“It’s fine Jax I’m fine-”

“Get. Back in bed.”

You look down to see him holding onto your arm, feeling sick at the sight. With a heavy sigh and a few seconds of tension in the air you find it in yourself to get back in the bed, your body relaxing against the smooth sheets.

“I’ll be back, just stay here.”

Staring up at the ceiling you take in your surroundings. The sky outside looks muted and the lights are a little too bright, you’re cold. Despite the warm weather outside and fluffy blanket covering you, there’s a constant chill over your skin.

Childe comes back into the room after a few minutes, in his hands he holds a tray carrying your favorite food and drink, the sight alone is enough to make your blood pressure spike.

“Eat up” his face is relax and soft, he isn’t demanding nor is he asking

“I’m… I’m not hungry.”

“Come on (y/n), you just passed out you need to eat.”

“Ajax I told you I’m not hungry.”

“Have you eaten today?”

Silence, dead heavy silence. You chew on your cheek trying your best to come up with some sort of excuse, knowing it’ll never work on him anyway. You’re lack of a response says more than you can manage out your mouth.

“(y/n).... You haven’t eaten?”

“I was busy, you know how it is.”

“When was the last time you ate?”

“Umm… a few days ago I think.”

More silence, the tension was so thick and unbearable. Before you realized it your eyes welled up, maybe it was shame or embarrassment. Embarrassed to admit you hadn’t eaten, that it was intentional, that you hadn’t told him, that you were doing this to begin with.

“I’m sorry Jax.” your voice trembled, the tears slipped down your cheeks quietly and your breathing was no where near even.

He didn’t respond, you were scared to look at him. What would he think? Was he mad? Or disgusted? Or disappointed? You couldn’t bare the thought of any of it, it felt so scary. Before you knew it your head craned in his direction.

He… was also crying. His cheeks were stained with salty water that flowed from his eyes like a waterfall, without thinking you reach up to hold his face. He closes his eyes and leans into your hand letting out quiet sobs, and for the first time since meeting him you feel your heart break.

“Jax… I’m so sor-”

“Stop, don’t say it. Don’t be sorry, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for not noticing, for not paying enough attention to you, for letting you do this to yourself.”

He grabs your wrist and removes your hand from his face, letting go of your wrist he pulls you into a hug and kisses the top of your head. You feel his tears, his heartbeat, and for once you feel warm. The warmth is comforting, the way it all hits you like a truck you can’t stop yourself for sobbing in his arms. You feel safe, you feel loved, you feel like you’re supported.

“(y/n), I love you so much. I love you more than anything in this damned world, I can’t live without you. I can’t live knowing you’re hurting, and I know you are.” He pulls away and lowers himself so his eyes meet yours and now he’s the one holding your face.

“You’ll get better baby, I’ll help you.”

#[🍧 𝐥𝐞𝐞’𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬] #[🥮 𝗼𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬] #character x reader #x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact #childe x reader #childe x reader comfort #genshin childe #childe genshin #genshin impact childe #childe genshin x reader #genshin impact childe x reader #genshin childe x reader #childe genshin impact #childe

[sneeb-canons]

Soul has a cabin where he keeps things from past loops in. A few things of note are:

-A tape recorder with an early version of ‘We’re Gonna Win’

-Mind’s first pair of prosthetics

-Heart’s first blindfold

-Pictures from various concords where they’re all happy

-Recordings of Mind reading or singing

-Recordings of Heart doodling and writing lyrics

He keeps these with him because he just wants to only be in concord and to rewind back to when heart and mind weren’t blind and mute respectively. He knows he didn’t cause either, but he just needs them back to ‘normal’ so bad it physically hurts him. When he goes to his cabin, he always comes out crying because {God, why can’t things be better? Why did all this shit happen to us? What did we do to deserve this?}

And also, going hand in hand with this, during concord, Soul records EVERYTHING. He is so scared that this loop is the last loop they’re like this, and next loop they’re going to rip each other to shreds. He just can’t let any moment go to waste.

Headcanon #127

#chonny jash #submission #cj soul #cj mind #cj heart #chonnys charming chaos compendium #damn okay you didn't have to make one that hit so hard/lh #love me some soul angst tho #angst for the soul #lol get it #anyways thanks for the tears anon i love this #debating makin an au or something with it #had an au idea a bit back when soul would be gone/missing and only Heart & Mind are left to fix things/find soul/whatever #mayhaps they find the cabin then #and kinda have a whole moment #idk how to write things but like eh #one of my favorite headcanons

[lucabyte]

your ocs!!!!! please ramble about them!!!!

i love your art so much

(GRABS YOU) H. CAN DO BOSS.

So ! My ocs. I guess I'll do an overall explainer for the overall groups. If you check out my Toyhouse (LINK!) there's a bunch of folders up top that are how I categorise them. It's primarily by universe except for the folders that are just "misc."

So folder 1: Blatant favouritism:

These are silly little guys that don't fit in any specific wider universe, but I really really like. So I'll spotlight the two important ones before i get real in the weeds with my main universe.

In here are notably, my Fursona (self explanatory), Ali and Pittsburgh Cincinnati. There's also Hauntkit and Clearpelt who are warriorcats ocs that *is dragged away by airport security*

... So, Pittsburgh, lovingly sometimes called pissbug, is a weird little Thing who I made as like, an homage to characters like happy bunny and Sweetypuss. She (and her weird dog) exist to stand next to strange and offputting captions. I love her. No further context. She's just silly. and violent.

Now. Ali.

Ali Alighieri has thoroughly stolen the show, and also ties into the next folder along, Making Your MK.

With over a hundred extra images compared to second place (Sorry, Tabitha). Ali is my fucked up little scrunkly. My little baby guy. They're a shared character of mine and @samhainian's, and is from their Creature Feature setting (A modern fantasy setting wherein Cryptids and Magic are real but in our modern world.) They are as such, a modern human young adult... Who is also a demon + magic user.

Strange little pansexual altersex genderqueer poetry-nerd that they are... The modern setting also means they are literally just a tumblr user. A fellow countryman, so to speak.

HOWEVER.... Ali's true origin was in *Purrgatorio*, a scrapped visual novel of mine set in the MYMK universe! They were simply retrofitted into CF as the joke with Purrgatorio was that a regular human had mysteriously just shown up in MYMK's pure-furry setting.... And then when we scrapped the project we got all attatched to our little not-so-blank-slate protagonist. But I'll put a pin in Purrgatorio for later.

Making Your MK.

(Guest of honour: My super unfinished website <3)

Okay so here's the big one. The setting with.... (looks at spreadsheet) 109 characters not including so-called incidentals. At time of writing.

MYMK is home to... Multiple stories. As you would hope when a setting has 100+ characters. I'd wager each story has about 10-20 relevant characters tops but with a big shared universe like this there gets to be overlap between casts!!! Yay !!! 😊😊😊

MYMK is the name of the main story in the setting. Pronounced "Making your Mark", it is centered around Markus Felidae (The purple one) and their family. It's very action-adventure-y. It's also the plot I'm most secretive about the backend of since I WILL!!!!! Turn it into a nice prose story with pictures SOMEDAY!!!!! But for now tee hee hee secrets secrets. Markus' family is strange and ragtag and is keeping something from them... I can't ramble on too long here unless further prompted in asks about specifics but!!! Everyone in the MYMK folder has a fully furbished little profile with a blurb about them. So if you're curious....

But yeah, I tend to think of the MYMK setting more in terms of its Locations than its Casts, due to the overlapping nature of them all. The Malbranche may be the villains of the main plot, but they're also major players in relation to The Palsgrave who are the antagonists of Moraine, etc etc,

The country everything in MYMK is set in is called New Orphidian, Southern hemisphere little thing, here's a very cartoony map of it.

Um. Cliffside!

Since it's the best map I have... Here's an exclusive sneak peek of a Zine I'll be getting back to once the fandom brain cools down a bit.... :3c

(... I REALLY NEED TO DO A TOUR AROUND THE MINECRAFT CLIFFSIDE SAM AND I BUILT..... IT'S SO CUTE....)

Cliffside is situated on a big ol' Cliff.

A tiny hamlet of a place, it used to have reason to exist, and now does not. It's not even a good tourist locale, as the cliff is much too dangerous compared to the nicer tourist spot of Welkin just a little north. Not to mention nearby Moraine's allure as a tax haven with no labour laws place where a bunch of TV and Movies are filmed!

It's where most of MYMK's main cast reside (except the antagonists from the Big City Varmonte), and is as such a location I have a lot of tiny little worldbuilding thoughts about :)

I won't go into the other locations here just because then this post will SUPER get away from me but... I think most importantly for Cliffside right now...

Is that it's where Purrgatorio is set. Yes, that VN I said got scrapped. It's not dead. It is in fact serving it's original intended purpose as "A (mostly) noncanon exploration of character voice and setting"

It's back and its prose babeyyyyyyy!!! (A BUNCH OF THE EARLY STUFF IS ME BEING SUPER RUSTY ... BE WARNED)

Purrgatorio is currently the most publicly available coherent work I have out of my ocs! It's very low-stakes and serves mostly to bash my toys together and see what character dynamics come out, but you can look if you want to!

(There's also a whole THING on the meta of its Canonicity... It's not canon, but it's also not NOT canon. But if I talk about Metanarrative Timeline Collapse in my normal mundane non-magic setting im gonna sound bonkers ✌)

Ali's dynamics with the MYMK cast are so goddamn funny to me. Like I literally just handed my OCs some ET shit but ET is a sexually repressed tumblr user with a mood disorder.

But yeah I don't think I can coherently string together much more about MYMK without just actually explaining THE WHOLE PLOT.... Though I will absolutely elaborate on any given character's Whole Deal if i'm prompted. (OH MY GOD I DIDNT EVEN TALK ABOUT CHROME AND TABITHA. WAIT. OKAY THERE'S. OK NO IF I TALKED ABOUT THEM IT'D JUST END UP AN ESSAY ,SORRY..)

So here's some bonafide classic images for the road.

(IF TUMBLR BREAKS THE FORMATTING AND JUST PUTS THESE ONE AFTER THE OTHER INSTEAD OF IN A GRID IM SO SORRY LMAOOOOO)

... And as for the other folders on my toyhouse!

Misc and Fandom are what they sound like. Self explanatory,

Then, Ysden is @samhainian's fantasy setting. It's where our DnD games happen to be set but it's also a general fantasy setting :)

and Monster of the Week... Is currently being revamped! It used to be a modern world setting with hidden magic, now it's going to be more... Adventure Time-y. Fantasy world get iphone. Yknow. It has a lower Age Rating than MYMK's "anything goes", as it started as a Pitch Bible Project in my animation class. They're a little neglected but I still love them :) The revamp is extemely recent and not reflected in any of the art/writing yet but I'm workin on it. It still doesn't have a proper title..... OTL

So yeah!! Uh. This wasn't as comprehensive as I was hoping but it turns out I have way, WAY too many thoughts on my guys. And no idea what to do when im actually asked about them so !!!! This was not a very coherent ramble but it was a ramble !

There's things like essays on Chrome and Tabitha (Link) and also The Queer Gender Identities Of The Whole Cast (Link) hiding around on my toyhouse, and once again, Purrgatorio (Link) serves as my sandbox for playing with how these characters act in situations.

But..... ! I did try to make my toyhouse approachable for the average layman. Every character in the MYMK folder (Link) has a *blurb* of information, rather than a giant wall of text explaining everything about them. I want people to be able to understand their general vibe at a glance rather than be overwhelmed.

In any case ???? Uh. Fun game for everyone: If you know your homestuck classpect, every single MYMK character has a classpect and lunar sway. and a birthday. Try and find your andrew-hussie assigned kin! As a Prospitian Witch of Heart, I share my classpect and lunar sway with Chrome. No I don't know what this means. It worries me honestly he's kind of an asshole.

#oh my god this is so long and not coherent at all anon i love you thank you so much for asking but this is unintelligable from me LOL #long post #EVEN LONGER IF TUMBLR BREAKS THE FORMATTING WHICH IM SUPER SCARED IT WILL DO #but yeah. BURSTS INTO TEARS. I LOVE MY LITTLE GUYS THERES LIKE 10 YEARS UPCOMING OF DEV ON THEM ITS UNWEILDY #THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ASKING AUGH.... SORRY THIS IS MOSTLY JUST SAYING TO LOOK AT MY TOYHOUSE LOLLL #but if anyone catches your eye dear reader feel free to ask about them in specifics? even if they seem niche or under-drawn... #i will have had a lot of thoughts on them. no matter what. #also my toyhouse doesnt make it clear whos trans gender because i only list pronouns and not gender identity but . theres a bunch. #i have so many goddamn nonbinary characters who use binary pronouns too its . i realise i make it hard to tell LOL #anyway the classpect assigned kinnie thing is my fav thing to do. everyone should do this with their ocs #lucabytetalks #LUCABYTETALKS LIKE. A LOT. THIS TIME. THIS IS SO DISORGANISED GOOD LIRD.....

[myfriendtheghost]

more domestic josh thought:

him letting you pick a movie, so you pick a cartoon disney movie he hasnt seen before. the two of you are cuddled close in bed, he has your legs in his lap and he’s rubbing circles on your hip. the fairly lights on, and he’s making the silliest comments. “if you were stuck as a frog, i would totally convince someone to turn me into a frog too. or i would kiss you. then we can both be frogs. and use leaves as our mode of transportation”

i definitely think he makes up random tunes in his head, so when he’s doing a chore, or if you’re grumpy he will sing a song about it. “my munch, is in a crunch. she’s gotta get her work done, and it’s a bunch! she’s very grumpy, and probably wants some lunch!” to which he serves you some fruit and a sandwich.

him folding laundry while you lounge on you shared bed and watch him. he loves folding, and you do the laundry so it’s a perfect trade off! he’s so meticulous about it. if the fold looks ugly, he will completely restart that fold. he even remembers the one time you told him it’s important to keep your bra cups from being crushed, so he stuffs all your socks in them for the time being, until you can put them all away properly.

going to homegoods with him!!! he would be amazed. he remembers when you bought a blanket with dogs in a halloween costume once, so now he insists to keep up with the theme and will buy a blanket with dogs according to the nearest holiday, so for easter hed put a blanket with dogs in bunny ears in the shopping cart.

brushing your teeth next to him after a long day, and him making the goofiest faces in the mirror. he’d pretend to be rabid before spitting out his toothpaste just to make you laugh. when you reach over to grab the floss, he’d grumble about how much he hates flossing but still take some because you’re flossing too.

him noticing your medicine supply is low. he’d go up to you, and say he wasn’t snooping or anything, but he noticed your prescription is running a bit low, so you should call the pharmacy soon.

while cooking, he would sing the ratatouille song to himself. he’s butcher most of the words, but you understand the point.

he’d love to watch you play animal crossing. he’d ask so many questions! “munch, why does that owl talk so much?” “what are those stars in the dirt?” “why did you miss that butterfly!! what if it was worth a lot of money??” (it’s a common butterfly)

did u …… did u know I have a blanket with dogs in Halloween costumes on it

#chatswithkatie #LIKE HAVE WE TALKED ABOUT THAT OR DID U JUST PULL THAT IUT OF UR ASS/ALSO HAVE A HALLOWEEN DOGS BLANKET #BECAUSE I SCREAMED #also I would kill for him to fold my laundry for me omg I love throwing it in the wash but I hate putting it away ❤️‍🩹 #anyways thanks for More Tears #gvf #joshua #greta van fleet #josh kiszka #🦦 anon #asks #the-wicked-gnome #long post

[dancedance-resolution]

Hey, are you gonna continue with the fic "the tree of my song stands bare against the blue (i give my songs to the rest, myself to you)"?

hi anon! not to jinx myself, but i think the final chapter is going to drop tomorrow!! :D

#i've been writing this fic since june of 2020 and now finally; over three whole ass calendar years later lol; i'm 99% sure she's getting her #final update tmrw (puppy eyes with tears in them emoji) #this final chapter alone took me a whole ass year solely bc there's a decent sized conflict scene and i hate writing conflict lol #but it's done!!! and all i have to do is tweak some words in a few highlighted paragraphs and then she'll be ready !!!!! #we're looking at just over 5k words so a bit shorter than the other chapters but i really think it's Good #fjsfhsjdf i'm super excited if you can't tell #i've met so many epic humans through this fic and i'm so proud of myself for finally being able to show everyone the ending i imagine for i #ANYWAYS yeah thank you for checking in anon and i hope you're still around to see this!! (i think you sent in this ask months ago lol) #sending love <3 #ddr's ask box #anon

[ssreeder]

Hey, new reader here! 🙋🏻‍♀️

I just wanted to say thank you for writing such masterpieces and sharing them with us. Last week I had a few days off and I discovered „leaving it all behind“ and I was so hooked! I spent my holidays reading it and now I finished „risking it all“. Such a ride! I’m new to the zukka fandom too and your fics took me to another dimension! They have a different vibe which I can’t give a name but I really love the feeling. It’s a dark story but so good. And it helped me forget some stress. Keep up the good work! Much much love and support ❤️

AWWWWWWW why are you so nice?!?!?!!

Thank you!! I am super happy you enjoyed it & yes you’re so right it does have some darker themes!

I love that my writing lifted some of your stress for a few days!! Welcome to the zukka realm I am super glad you decided to read my fic!!

HAVE A GREAT DAY!!! <3!!!

#new reader new reader newwwww reader!!! #I am always happy when people click on my fic even with all the insane tags #listen I tagged the shit out of it JUST IN CASE #the dark themes are no joke #NO JOKE #anyway thanks for swinging by my tumblr to say you enjoyed it #*wipes tear* #it just makes me so happy when y’all do that #love you new reader anon #liab #ria #ask

[cubedmango]

Naina I just wanted you to know that your comic was so unbelievably beautiful I’m literally sat in my bed with tears rolling down my cheeks I can’t believe I only saw it now I. This is what I imagine being ran over with a sixteen wheeler truck feels like my god… my heart was almost wrenched out of my chest just thinking about how kurosawa probably felt like the world had fallen out from beneath him and that he’d lost his chance to tell adachi everything when he called his phone and it didn’t go through after the accident like I can’t even function?:£: Like he really did struggle so badly with that worry if ‘am I being too clingy?’ Or ‘ will he interpret my worry as me not believing in him enough?’ And it just made the accident moment all that much more world stopping because knowing there were so many words left unsaid… the distance between them physically and verbally at the time like OUGHHH I could punch a wall you wrote it out so perfectly depicted it all so amazingly my heart feels healed with the reunion hug I soooo badly wanted to see I owe you my life💔 it was like I couldn’t have stopped the tears if I tried I could talk about it forever ah you’re just. So cool and talented and woah I need to lay down and never get up again cause i’m gonna be thinking about this for the rest of time thank you endlessly (sorry this is all over the place you broke me into a million tiny kurodachi crazed pieces)

ANONNNNN 🥹🥹🥹 IM SORRY ABT THE TRUCK OF PAIN BUT THANK UU !!! 💖💖 i did a full Proper cm rewatch last month and seeing the nagasaki parts again made me so crazy i had to try putting my emotions for it in one place 😔 everything u said tho like u got the emotions!!!!!! all of kurosawas assumptions that adachi can and will leave him willingly if he's even a Little out of line or too much but never realizing that sometimes circumstances just Happen and any day he could lose that chance to be truly honest bc he was too afraid and its like . .hhrhrhHHRHHjjh and that leading him to finally telling adachi he wasnt ok For The First Ever Time !!! digs a hole sits in it cries weeps throws up . i have so many more thoughts about it i wanna write a fic for the whole thing so bad i just. . words refuse to happen rn but one day i swear to god. all my insane thoughts abt kurosawa Will become real!!!!!!!!

#theres a lot of little things i did in the comic idk if anyone noticed . but sprinkling in that unreliable narration teehee <3 #like adachis face never Actually being shown until kurosawa actually sees him for real at the hospital . and that kind of parallels pg1 #and the littol flashback panels being moments kurosawa was white lying and moments adachi still accepted him ...... #honestly it probs doesnt make much sense but it makes perfect sense to me trust #the fic ideas are sitting in my head i just have to . idk write???? the attempts keep failing but One Day #i have one sillier fic ill probs work on if i do write bc i think ive made enough angst for like a year at least i need the fluff now #Anyways. This Ask Is Everything To Me Thank You Anon #dream ask to get after i post angst like Yes!!!! cry with me lets be sad abt them together !!!!! #sorry abt the tears but also i love inflicting blorbo-themed pain onto others so i am doing a villain laugh hehehe hahahahaha #i do feel a little motivated to make more angst. maybe later..... #my answer

[yuujispinkhair]

So how is no nut November going w modern boyfie sukuna? Idk if u can get him to participate but if he does I bet he makes the whole month as torturous for u as possible.

Pairing: Sukuna x Reader (female) Word Count: 400 Warnings: 18+, smut, creampie, praise, face shot, overstimulation, light dub-con. All characters are of age. Credit for the banner @/benkeibear

Sukuna just huffs and rolls his eyes when he hears someone mention No-Nut-November. Your boyfriend never believes in abiding rules, especially not ridiculous ones like that! Who invented that shit anyways?! Sukuna will show them how much he doesn't let anyone tell him what to do!

He makes sure to nut in you exactly one minute after midnight to say a big fuck you to No-Nut-November, so proud of himself, moaning and smirking against your neck,

"Hmm fuck yeah, feels so good to nut in my girl. What a lovely way to start November."

He's an idiot, but it's incredibly charming somehow. And after all, he also makes sure to make you nut so good that you scream his name and leave scratches on his muscular back, so why should you complain?

A sane person would let it go after that midnight fuck. But not Sukuna. Your boyfriend is a rebel. If someone tells him to do No-Nut-November, he will take it as a personal challenge to nut as often as possible this month.

You whine beneath him, exhausted from all the times he made you cum in one session, pussy throbbing, clit pulsing hotly, both your bodies sweaty and the bedsheets soaked from all your combined cum. You feel light-headed, weakly running your hands up and down Sukuna's flexed, tattoed biceps as you look up at him with your eyes wet from tears,

"Kuna... Baby, I can't go another round... it's too much."

But your pink-haired menace of a boyfriend just smirks and snaps his hips faster, meaner, going even deeper, pounding your sweet spot so good that you mewl his name.

"Aww, princess, we are going at least two more rounds."

But he turns sweeter a moment later, leaning down to trail kisses over your neck while he humps your pussy with slow but deep thrusts.

"My princess can take it. I know that. You're my good girl after all, aren't you, baby? Aren't you gonna cum for me again, sweetheart?"

Of course, you do, your pussy clenching helplessly around Sukuna's talented cock, squealing his name as your legs shake weakly, and your face feels so hot you think you have a fever as you shudder around his fat cock with the next mind-blowing orgasm.

And Kuna chuckles smugly, followed by a low groan of "Yeah, see, I knew it. That's my good girl. I love you, princess."

He pumps your overstimulated pussy full of another load of his thick cum, before giving his little Anti-No-Nut-November performance a cherry on top by nutting one last load over your pretty face this time, just to make sure.

PLEASE I NEED HIM SO BAD!! Sweet anon, thank you for sending me this!! Sukuna can always use me for his personal vendetta against NNN uwu ;)

I hope you enjoyed this little drabble!! Comments and reblogs would be very sweet!!

#sukuna x reader #sukuna #sukuna smut #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #ryomen sukuna #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #jjk x y/n

[onlyswan]

summary: in which you drive jungkook mad but you make his heart beat.

idol!jungkook x f!reader, est. relationship / fluff, suggestive, a pinch of angst / word count: 5k

content/warnings: tried sumn different so this is mainly from jungkook’s pov :D !! drummer!oc ur so cool & i’m stealing u from ur bf 🏃— mention of a 10 yr age gap between jk & a guy who likes oc (he’s hella pissed off) ; mentions of (car) s^x ; allusion to a bl^wj^b ; jk just got home from tour & oc is tipsy, needy, & dramatic as hell T_T ; oc /briefly/ touches jk while he’s driving & he /nearly/ loses his shit & crashes the car (he doesn’t) (i’m kidding) + to the anon who wanted to jk’s cheek scar to get a kissy here u go 🥺

> in which masterlist!

note: oc is so shot glass of tears coded especially in this… i’m glad i’m posting this after golden came out just so i could say it 🥰 this takes place after this drabble sooo the end of oct 2018 <3 if u’ve read the prev drabble too, this was when jk said those exact words in the past 🥺 wrote this in the middle of hell week so i was half out of my mind :'] as always feedback & reblogs rrr always appreciated !! 🥺

—

jungkook loves the sound of rain— the gentle knocks on every surface of the earth has always been a lullaby even during daylight.

tonight is a different story, however. it is defeaning, terrifying even. he can barely see what is infront of him, spare the occasional headlights blazing across the slippery roads. his umbrella is being stolen away by the harsh gusts of wind and the mud stains on his sneakers are well-hidden by the plain black.

and yes, he is tired; and yes, this is hard, but that is the end of it.

you’re exactly where you told him you’d wait, far behind the edge of the roof where the rainwater falls from and splashes on the ground. you stand out in his blue oversized shirt, one that he purposely left behind in your closet so he could have something else to wear when he sleeps over.

you’re too busy typing on your phone to see him crossing the parking lot; he feels his very own vibrate in the pocket of his sweatpants. however, his giddy smile fades when a man exits through the entrance door and approaches you with a red umbrella. his strides become slightly hurried then, as he watches you politely decline it with that heart-fluttering smile of yours everybody adores.

“oh no, really, i’m fine. you might need it later! my boyfriend is already coming to pick me up anyway.”

jungkook acts cool. he tucks his hand in the pocket of his sweatpants, tries to make himself appear bigger because he realizes that he would be inches shorter than the man if not for the platforms of his shoes.

“____, baby!”

upon hearing your name coming from the lips of your lover, your face lights up even brighter.

“jungkook!”

you greet him with an embrace, jumping into his arms before he can properly set down his umbrella on the ground.

“yah, yah-yah! be careful!” he chuckles as he wraps his arms around your waist to catch you, peering down to check how high your boots are for you to be running and jumping around freely.

“hey, i’m going back inside- there’s more customers coming in. make it home safe, alright?”

the stranger tries to catch your attention, and jungkook’s protectiveness swiftly kicks in when he lays a hand on you and slides it down to your lower back. your boyfriend turns you away from the unprompted touch by pulling your body closer to his side, and he is unable to control how his eyebrows knit together in annoyance.

he wasn’t planning on giving much thought to the presence of a man around you. he knows better than that. but he has never heard about this one, which raises the question of who the fuck is he to freely touch you like that?

“oh- alright! thank you, jun!”

“you better take care of ____, man. it’s dangerous around here during this time.”

he receives a rather heavy and condescending pat on the shoulder, and so, with his annoyance bubbling worse, he wears a passive aggressive smile on his face.

“yeah, of course i am,”

jun’s nostrils flare as he witnesses you sneakily slide your hands underneath jungkook’s hoodie in search of warmth.

“i’m here now, so there’s no need to worry about my girlfriend anymore.”

he nods, then forces himself to smile. “that’s good, then.”

“yeah, thanks. we’re leaving.”

“oh, okay. have a nice night!”

“you too,”

he turns on his heel and returns inside the busy establishment— but not before jungkook made sure that he saw the bruises on his knuckles that he got from his boxing sessions.

his jaw clenches as he glares at the door.

is he being petty? sure, to hell with that. he doesn’t care. he’s always been one to trust his gut, and he has a bad feeling.

he is met by a love-drunk smile when his undivided attention is at last given to you, in the form of fond eyes and affectionate strokes of your hair.

“who was that?”

“eh, new bartender,” you shrug with disinterest. “hm, i think he’s 31…? he’s nice but he keeps talking about wrestling.”

he raises an eyebrow at the mention of his age, while your lips form a sad pout.

what the hell? he thought he would be 25 at most.

“the tv has been in the same channel for the past two weeks because of him. it’s all i’ve been seeing! i don’t like it-” you whine in distress, quite frankly, a little traumatized.

an endeared smile is coaxed out of him at your adorableness, how your speech is a little slurred and how you’re looking at him like you’re begging him to do something about it.

“makes me nervous,”

his dominant hand closes into a fist.

if he only he had known. should’ve fucking punched the guy, give him a taste of what he seems to be a huge fan of.

“let’s watch something calming when we get home, how about that?”

you nod your head, eyes that twinkle with eagerness fluttering shut when he leans in for a much awaited kiss. how sweet, he feels a little more alive than before. he can smell it, even taste it— the peach margarita you started sipping on before the band’s first set. concocted by jun, he presumes. he pulls away with a small smile, licking his lips for the traces of you that clung to him.

out of the blue, you burst into a fit of giggles, weak knees buckling as your weight crashes on him.

“i missed you!”

“babe, are you seriously drunk?” he chuckles, holding you with a secure grip around your torso.

“maaaybe tipsy…? i was pretending not to be.” you stand on your tip-toes to nuzzle your face against his neck, mumbling sheepishly. “only trust you.”

—

“i should’ve accepted the umbrella.” you grunt childishly, body going limp on jungkook’s back, except for the arm holding up the umbrella that shields the both of you from the pouring rain.

“yah!” he scolds you, clearly not pleased with the words that just came from your mouth. “what does that mean?”

“i’m embarrassed! they’re probably feeling bad for you.”

the last sentence comes out as a whisper, pertaining to the side glances you’ve been attracting from strangers as you make your way to your boyfriend’s car.

unfortunately, he had to park somewhere far because the restobar’s parking lot was already full.

you jokingly complained about staining your white boots with dirt and mud, but you instantly regretted it when he bent down, signalling you to ride on his back without an ounce of hesitation.

“our shoulders always get wet when we share an umbrella,” he said. “if i carry you, wouldn’t it be better?”

“embarrassing? some would even say romantic!”

something peculiar happens then— when your lips ghost over his left cheek, planting an affectionate kiss there that lasts for seconds. you pull away with a smacking sound, giggly and bubbly, might be his favorite version of you.

“i love you,” you hum, grasping the umbrella upright before it could tip over.

he doesn’t know if you did it on purpose or not, kissing him precisely where his scar is, but his heart jumps in his chest when he feels it begin to throb.

as if the wound from his childhood has come alive. as if, once again, he is bleeding as he glares at his older brother, and he still wants to play games on the computer oblivious to the fact that it would leave a permanent scar, a brand new landmark on his body.

you mistake his silence for something else.

you frown, warm breath tickling his neck as you quietly ask. “are you still mad at me?”

he sighs, vision landing on the ground as his walking pace slows down. “no? i was wrong. i shouldn’t have questioned your decision in the first place… why would i be mad?”

you started playing the drums for your friend’s band two months ago, just as soon as he left for tour. you volunteered after witnessing how distraught they were when their drummer vanished without a trace. he learned that it used to be a hobby of yours from childhood until early teenage years, playing the drums, but it was robbed from you when your father took his instruments with him when he abandoned your home for another.

he was pleasantly surprised when he learned about it, recounted all the times your hands and fingers were drumming on any sort of surface and his head naturally bopped to the beat, but then again, you never brought it up.

isn’t ____ so cool? he would proudly say when he flaunts you to his friends, even the protocol team, who have never seen him so happy.

three times a week, from nine in the evening until midnight, your phone was propped up on an empty table infront of the stage, and him, on the other side of the globe, excitedly watched you from backstage while he was getting ready for their own show. some other times, he was in his hotel room, or the private jet. his patience has been tested by crappy wifi, nosy and noisy people, and his earphones that stopped working while you looked insanely attractive grooving to ‘why’d you only call me when you’re high?’ as you effortlessly played the drums. he showered you with compliments as you did for him. you’re working hard so he must do the same.

he arrived home from tour the other day, spent the rest of its hours sleeping. yesterday, he waited for you at school and then at work like a lost puppy, slept on your bed (if he’s being honest, the two of you didn’t do much sleeping) then woke up at 9am for work.

and he tried his best, he really did, to get out of the company early enough to catch you playing a song or two. after all, it was your last day at the job.

much as you enjoyed reconnecting with an old flame— loved the overflowing tips that came from those who were amazed by your talent (well, there were also those who were just trying to get into your pants), the moment that the old drummer got down on his knees begging to be taken back by his best friends, just like how you became a part of the band, you voluntarily stepped down.

jungkook didn’t agree with this decision. he didn’t understand why you’d sacrifice something that makes you happy for a person who fucked up and wasted what they had. you went back and forth over it on the phone until you cried, told him that it wasn’t easy for you, and he couldn’t hold you in his arms or kiss your face. he could only apologize, and it even felt insincere doing it through a screen.

maybe he’s only relieved that you no longer need to be around a man an entire decade older than he is, who is obviously interested in you and serves you alcohol drinks. no, that doesn’t sit right with him. he needs jun, or whatever the fuck his true name is, to stay very far away from his baby.

“i’m just sad that i never got to watch you perform in person.”

you rest your cheek on his shoulder, heavy eyelids slowly blinking as the headlights of a black van blindsides you.

what the fuck. too bright.

“me too…”

—

“i’m bored,” you release a dramatic sigh, stealing a glimpse of jungkook at the driver’s seat, just to see if you caught his attention like you intended.

his eyes are trained on the dashboard, however, focused on the navigation guide displayed on his phone. he isn’t very familiar with this part of the city. it took him more than an hour to arrive at the address you sent him, including the time he spent in the middle of traffic.

“forty-eight minutes, then we can do whatever you want.”

“whatever i want?”

he slows down the car, briefly turning his head to find you expectantly looking at him with wide, hopeful eyes.

“of course,” he laughs, taking one hand off the wheel to squish your cheeks together. “just tell me what it is, baby.”

he doesn’t catch the sad look that flashes across your face after you lose his touch.

“then i’ll tell you when i figure out what i want,” you say quietly.

“i thought you already had something in mind?”

“nope,” you answer with yet another sigh.

you choose to stare out the window in silence, body completely slumping into your seat in defeat.

jungkook’s senses are sharp, or he likes to believe so. “are you okay?”

“i’m okay,”

“you sure?”

“hmm,” you hum curtly, and then you close your eyes, so he decides not to press further despite wanting to.

he meets a red traffic light not long after that. and so, he hurriedly grabs the black fleece blanket in the backseat. he envelopes you in it, crossing the distance between you to softly press his lips onto yours for a goodnight kiss. he feels you respond, albeit lazily, and he smirks cockily when you lift yourself up to chase him for one more, please— desperately, to get your fill of goodnight kisses from the many nights that you missed it.

the time seems to tick excruciatingly slow now that you’re quiet. a minute is multiplied by a hundred. the steady rhythm of your breathing keeps him sane throughout dark avenues and encounters with reckless drivers of the midnight scene.

he missed you. he missed you so much, and he knows that you’re tired from university, and tutoring high school students in english, and playing the drums for more than two hours… but he selfishly wishes that you’re awake right now so he can make up for the two months that you were apart.

be careful of what you wish for, they said.

jungkook should know better by now.

“i can’t sleep,” he hears you whisper in a dulcet tone that indirectly tells him you’re in need of some love… but he isn’t given the chance to act upon that request because you’re already all over what it is that you need.

he swallows thickly, glancing down at your hand that has somehow found its way to his inner thigh— zeroing in on your red nails, can feel them faintly grazing his skin.

you’re so pretty. everywhere.

even when naked and bare.

no, especially. it’s all he can think about.

he can draw you from memory.

“____,” he utters your name through gritted teeth, heart beginning to race a thousand miles per second in his chest.

the effect of your teasing touch is instantaneous, slowly inching closer and closer to where his growing erection is. his eyes remain focused on the road, but he fears that he’ll start thinking with his dick soon if you carry on with this act a few seconds longer.

“shit, not now, baby- please- not while i’m driving.”

your bottom lip is caught between your teeth, poorly concealing a self-satisfied smirk, and you pretend not to hear a single word from his plea.

a minx, that’s what you are, always causing trouble and blurring lines in his eyes.

“____, i’m not joking around. don’t make me mad-”

his warning is cut short by-

“fuck… fuck,” he curses, filter flying out the window once he feels you tracing the outline of his hard-on, the feather-light touch of your fingers smoothly gliding across the fabric of his sweatpants, and he completely loses it when your soft palm caresses his cock, so gentle that it feels almost innocent.

okay, so he couldn’t feel it because you weren’t skin-to-skin, but he knows that your hands are soft, can feel his imagination running wilder because he has memorized the way they feel on most parts of his body.

you’re so incredibly nasty and evil for this— squeezing him lightly, taking advantage of how sensitive he’s gotten, making him tremble as pleasure shoots up his spine. his breath stutters in his lungs and he unconsciously pushes harder on the gas.

and although it means fighting every fiber of his being that painfully yearns for more, he seizes your wrist in an iron grip, placing your hand over the gearstick while his sits heavy on top of yours.

“____! behave! you’re going to get us killed!”

he watches you jut out your bottom lip through the rearview mirror, eyes hazy with lust staring down at where your hand used to be, and then his handsome face. he is evidently flushed, honey skin dusted with a rosy pink. all the way to the tips of his ears, down to his neck.

while he’s driving? really?

doesn’t this only happen in wet dreams?

you are not real.

“then pull over,” you plead. “please?”

he releases a shaky breath. you’re always so needy with alcohol in your system, drove him into total insanity while he couldn’t be here to give you what you wanted.

“no, you need to learn how to be patient… told you we can do whatever you want when we get home, right?”

wrong move.

the silence returns, and just when he thought that you went back to your journey to slumber, the sound of your sniffles fill the car.

jungkook’s heart breaks into a million pieces.

also, he wants to slam his head against the steering wheel.

you make it so fucking hard to resist you; you always get what you want. it becomes much harder when he is the subject of your desire and he loves being loved.

“haven’t i been patient enough…? i missed you so much.”

“and i missed you too!” he brings your intertwined hands to his lips, pressing them on your skin. “fuck, you have no idea how much… please, don’t cry.”

“then pull over,” you stubbornly insist, and he is so close to driving this car into a lamp post. “fuck me at the backseat.”

“can’t,” he mumbles, sounding almost pained, and he is. he wants you so bad, it hurts. “we’re going to have to do it without protection.”

“what do you mean?” you exclaim.

you rip your hand away from his, not wasting time in unlocking the glove compartment, and a sound of sheer disappointment escapes from your mouth as you collapse back on your seat.

“jungkook, i hate you!”

“well right now i hate myself too!” he cries out in frustration. “i didn’t have the time to buy more, okay?”

“and there’s not one in your wallet?”

“babe, are you serious?!”

“what?!”

somehow, his hands still expertly swivels the steering wheel as the car meets a curve.

but he feels dizzy. the ghost of your touch is still there, a promise of carnal pleasure unfulfilled.

“stop the car,” you say out of the blue, rather calmly, and that terrifies the shit out of him.

he swallows the lump in his throat, eyes switching between you and the road in panic. “huh?”

“i said stop the car, i’m stepping out.”

“babe, come on,” he moans, ruined and tormented. he reaches for your hand but you scoot further away from him, and he ignores the way his heart drops to his stomach as he kneads your exposed thigh instead. “please, don’t be like this. i just got home.”

“jungkook! if you don’t let me get off this car right now, i swear!”

the urgency embedded in your threatening voice leaves your boyfriend with no choice but to pull over to the side of the street as soon as he gets the chance.

he carries on to unbuckle his seatbelt.

“baby, stop being stu-”

he tries to reach for you, but he is rudely ignored as you hop off the car and slam the door shut on his face.

“…bborn…”

he blinks.

he inhales. he exhales.

and then he buries his face in his hands to scream… as quietly as possible.

“what the fuck was in that margarita?!”

—

jungkook steps out of the car worried sick about you. now wearing a black bucket hat, his head whips in different directions in search for the familiar shape of your body, your hair, your shirt that is his, anything.

his arm rests on top of the car door, the other on the roof, fingers drumming on it anxiously as he chews on his bottom lip.

there are mostly restaurants here, it seems. some are already closed, some are still lights on. not far away, he hears a karaoke place bursting with music and laughter. he looks up and he finds that the night sky remains barren of stars; there’s no guidance from the heavens that will lead him to you.

except for the sound of your sweet voice calling out his name.

he turns around, and he knows it’s going to sound extremely silly, but damn, you make his life feel like a movie— because you’re jogging towards him, and the universe begins moving in slow motion. perhaps it is to prevent him from falling on his knees in relief, because he genuinely thought that you already went home on your own like the stubborn brat that you are.

“____, where did you go?! you can’t just run off like that! seriously, that was not nice!”

“i forgot my wallet!” you squeal as you halt infront of him, slapping your forehead as a way to scold yourself. “i found a hotteok cart!”

his anger quickly dissipitates. he scans your face, mouth agape in bewilderment.

you, screaming at him to stop the car because there was a sighting of your favorite snack? makes sense.

he dishes out the wallet from his pocket. “wha- i thought you… you didn’t have money?”

you shake your head to answer his question.

“then how are you already eating?”

you take another bite from the hot hotteok you’re holding in a paper cup, and then you shrug.

“i was already eating when i realized it,” you point at yourself, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “so he let me run back here. does it look like this face would steal?”

“you’re impossible!” he bursts out laughing, the unique sound of his joy harmonizing with the mundane noises of the city.

he is thoroughly amused and in awe of your undeniable charm never failing to work its magic. if you just gave it a shot, you might be even better at him at his job.

you’re pliant as he captures your wrist, tugging you away with him so he can lock the car.

“i bought three, by the way.” you note as the two of you start walking, with you clinging to his side. “the last three then mister can go home.”

you put the hotteok near his mouth, and he pauses to take a big bite. “have you even had dinner?”

“just the four margaritas- they were yummy! or was it five?”

he clicks his tongue in disappointment, but he doesn’t get to say anything more about it because you’ve reached the hotteok cart, and he’s already handing the vendor the money.

“thank you!” he bows his head politely as he accepts the remaining two you mentioned earlier, handing them over to you.

“no, this is yours.” you speak with tenderness, giving back one of the cups to him. “then we’ll split the third one. it’s really good!”

the vendor secretly watches the interaction with a fond smile as he packs up to finally, finally end his long day working at the busy streets of seoul.

—

you’re sat together on the hood of jungkook’s car as you share a midnight snack. with caring hands, you rip the hotteok apart in perfect halves, offering the other to your lover. he accepts it in between his teeth.

“do you want drums as your christmas gift?”

“love,” you search for the words to say as you chew the food in your mouth. “i can barely fit in my apartment. where am i going to put a drum set…? not to mention that i can’t even cry without my neighbor hearing it.”

his shoulders drop in dejection, and you rub your boyfriend’s back in an attempt to comfort him.

“you must really want to see me play, don’t you?”

“i’m dying to,” he says in pure jungkook fashion, tone dramatic and thick with an accent that is entirely his. “i can’t believe there were regulars who saw you every night, while i, your boyfriend, didn’t even see you once…! even that fucking bartender… this- this can’t be right! do you think this makes sense? no, right?”

“aw, my baby,” you coo at him, jutting out your bottom lip as you tenderly cup his face.

“i don’t trust him, by the way,” he scoffs. “as much as possible, stay away from him when you visit, alright…? if i see him touching you one more time, i don’t know what i’ll end up doing to him.”

“i don’t like him either,” you giggle. “so that’s easy.”

he stares at your bloodshot eyes. damn it, you haven’t sobered up.

“____, i’m serious. he’s weird. i’m worried about you but i can’t always be here to protect you.”

you blink at him innocently. “i am too! serious!”

“you promise me?”

“i promise!”

he nods, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he gets lost in the sea of his own thoughts. “i should talk to your friends about this, too. is that okay?”

“if that will ease your mind,” you half-smile, heart fluttering in your chest because you feel so cherished.

comfortable silence follows suit.

the hotteok is still soft and warm and sweet. if your love had to be delivered to his doorstep, it would in the form of your favorite food.

he sighs to gain more of your sympathy, basking in the attention he’s receiving from you. he missed this. he missed you. he sounds like a broken record, but it’s true.

“come ooon, don’t be sad! i’ll make it up to you! but it’s a surprise!”

“surprise?” he eyes you with suspicion. “what surprise?”

“just trust me, alright?”

you poke his cheek where his dimples are, and you witness them pop out as he copies your contagious smile.

“can i make a guess?”

“nope!”

you fit the remaining piece of your hotteok in your mouth, jumping off the hood of the car. you stand before him as you wipe your hands clean with a small paper napkin.

“don’t you dare. if you guess it right then my plans will be ruined!”

—

you’re back on the passenger seat to travel the remaining twenty-seven minutes to your apartment.

jungkook melts into the tenderness of your touch as he drives. you’re tracing the toned muscles of his arms; stroking his hair, his face, and the smell of the sticky brown sugar from the hotteok still lingers on your skin.

“when are you going to start getting tattoos?” you wonder out loud as he intertwines your fingers together on top of his thigh. “i think you’d look so pretty.”

“i’m planning on it.”

his heart skips a beat at the thought of you remembering that he wants his skin artfully inked as you absentmindedly distracted yourself with it.

he licks his lips, smiling as he looks over at you. “you really think so? pretty?”

“hm, hot, too,” you stick your tongue out playfully, and he snorts out a laugh. “but as long as you’re happy, then nothing else matters.”

“of course- wait, yah! you still need to eat dinner.” he reminds you once he recognizes the path you’re taking.

a grocery store is not more than a kilometer away, if his memory serves him right.

“what do you want? i don’t mind cooking.”

“for you to fuck me, that’s what i want. you won’t mind that, too?”

oh my fucking god.

he wishes you were passed out drunk instead so he wouldn’t have to suffer this battle between self-control and his insatiable appetite for you.

“baby, aren’t you still sore from this morning?”

“a little,” he notices you squeezing your thighs together from his peripheral, and along with it, the bruises on your knees from when you worshipped his body last night. “but i want you.”

your giggles in reaction to him frustratedly running his fingers through his hair seems to only fuel the dirty thoughts in his head. he uncomfortably shifts in his seat to adjust himself.

“can you just bring it up when we get near your house? you’re killing me over here!”

“but why? i’m having fun.” you bring your tangled hands over to your side, peppering the back of his hand with innocent kisses. “i love you. you’re so cute.”

“are you… are you seriously calling me cute after what you just asked me to fuck you?”

his disbelief is challenged by your amusement.

“why not? being one dimensional? boring. being different things all at once? sexy.”

jungkook doesn’t need to see you play the drums to know that you are the only one capable of making his heart beat like this. to feel it pounding, it turns out there’s another way besides performing, he can just be alone with you. a different type of addictive exhilaration. he isn’t at the top of the world; he free falls as it revolves around you.

you always know the right words to say, because right now, he is preening. he’s wearing a big smile, the kind that looks like he’s laughing, but he’s not— almost. the kind that reaches his eyes, shapes them into little crescent moons.

how did he get so lucky?

rehearsals in the morning be damned, he will be fucking you good all night.

you make a noise of confusion when the car swerves into the trees at the side of the road.

“what are we doing here?”

jungkook only spares you a glance. “get in the backseat, baby.”

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

#jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook drabble #jungkook one shot #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts fluff #bts reaction #bts imagine #bts fanfic

[kimetsu-no-yaiba-writings]

Hi! If youre still doing requests, i have kind of an odd ask , but maybe some of the upper moons' reactions to meeting Muzan's wife (reader). I also really like whipped!Muzan so maybe the other demons' reactions to seeing the demon king doting on his wife. Thank you very much :)

Hi Anon! (^○^.) I actually love this request, so thank you for sliding it into my askbox ♥

Honestly I love a powerful man - especially a powerful villain - who's just absolutely in love with their wife (♥ω♥.) and would do anything for them, it just brings me joy.

Anyway! I'm rambling abit, but here is your request! I hope I've done it justice (^ω^.) Please enjoy!

Come again to request whenever you want cause I'm always open.

Muzan Kibutsuji being whipped for his wife + Upper Moons Reactions - Headcannons:

You know those types of men that are just unmovable pillars of stone - who look like they were carved from the finest marble by the hands of angels - who are always impeccably dressed with a voice of icy poison and just command your attention?

Who turn to the softest love-struck mush when with their wife

yeah, that's Muzan Kibutsuji with his wife (aka. you)

The finest meals, clothes and jewelry are yours with a click of his fingers - all done to make you happy, to see you smile

Anything that you mention briefly - doesn't matter if it''s a book or a holiday - its yours by the end of the day

Just one smile and a fluttering of your eyelashes has muzan on his knees - a singular pout of your lips has his mind running wild

You just have to breathe and Muzan's heart squeezes, breath stuttering in his chest as he looks at you in adoration

You could ask for the world and he'd give it too you on a platter

Muzan worships you

Each touch from you is a blessing to his skin

Each kiss sealed into him

Each word of love that falls from your lips make him drunk to hear, each sentence thick with a love that leaves hearts in his eyes and his heart thumping wildly

He wants to wear you like a brand - each mark you leave on him (bite marks and all) are worn with pride - and you (and only you) get to touch and mark his skin in such sensual ways

Under his wedding ring, his finger holds your bite mark, something that he begs you to do each day - with love-struck tears pricking his eyes - and it always makes him feel like he's properly yours

"My Love," He purrs with a voice a think velvet "My wonderful wife, my moon and stars, I love you for ever and always" and he kisses you so softly

Sometimes you have to stop this man from wearing matching clothes with you - "But Beloved,"he whimpers with a face liked a kicked puppy "I want us to match" - because he will absolutely wear a matching couples outfit

Other days he just likes sharing the same colour palette

When you worship him by placing soft kisses to his skin - his wrists, knuckles and faces - Muzan feels like he's on cloud nine

Upper Moons Reactions:

When the upper moons first met you, it was by accident - pure accident -they'd been summoned and it just so happened that it was when muzan was just in the midst of kissing you and bathing you with compliments

Kokushibou doesn't even blink and just stands in position like a trained guard, this sight has been something he's accidentally stumbled upon a couple of times before and honestly it makes him miss his wife

Because this isn't the first time he's met you but rather the fifth, the first actually time he met you, you were incredibly respectful of him and actually treat him nicely - you became tea drinking buddies - so he quickly came to like you

Douma/Doma genuinely shrieks - like an honest to god scream - before quickly going to make fun (not a good idea) about how loving Muzan is and, "Why don't you treat us this way Muzan-sama~ You're breaking my heart~"

Akaza looks away from such an intimate scene with respect since it felt wrong to look upon his lord loving his wife - although his heart does ache for some reason when looking at such a perfect loving scene

Hantengu starts sobbing while apologizing anxiously - actually very jealous at how loving the scene is, he wants a wife and to dote on someone

Gyokko simply proclaims it as artful and simply leaves it as such

Daki Blushes a deep crimson - it makes her want a husband to dote on her so much

While Gyutaro simply sighs before looking away - much like kokushibou and akaza in respect - with jealous crawling up his ribs at such love, he wants somebody to dote on and love him so romantically

#kny #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #kny x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #demon slayer x reader #kny muzan x reader #kny muzan kibutsuji x reader #muzan x reader #muzan kibutsuji x reader #demon slayer muzan x reader #demon slayer muzan kibutsuji x reader #kimetsu no yaiba muzan x reader #kimetsu no yaiba muzan kibutsuji x reader #x reader #anime x reader #kny muzan kibutsuji #kny muzan #muzan kibutsuji #muzan x wife reader #muzan kibutsuji x wife reader #kny upper moons

[d34dlysinner]

Oh no, no anon!! Uhm anyways, so, it’s demons with huge dicks and huge dicks mean obligatory mating press.

So I wanna request that for the kings (and Sitri and Zagan if you’re fine with adding more) and their reaction when they feel the tip of their dick meeting Fem!MC’s cervix. Please and thank you for your work in our newborn fandom ❤️

(Thanks for the ask XDD) MINORS DNI Tags: Fem!MC, little choking, size kink mention. Satan fully pushed himself in when he felt it. He thought about what he was pressing against for a second. Your expression and whiny moan confirmed his thoughts as he smirked down at you. He placed his hands on your hips and held them firm as he started with some experimental thrusts. His dick meets your cervix with every thrust. "Seems like I really filled you up.", he says as he becomes more aggressive with his thrusts. His nails started to dig into your skin as he chuckled with every whiny moan you made. Beelzebub pushed your knees into your chest as he slowly pushed himself into you. He honestly didn't care much about hitting your cervix. He knew he wasn't small and he was proud of it. The only reason why he reacted to hitting your cervix was because of the soft whimper you let out when he pulled away. "Oh? Seems like you want more. Don't worry, very soon you'll feel full." Leviathan pressed into you and gasped at the tightness around him. It took him a second to realize that he was hitting your cervix. He started thrusting as he soon focussed on hitting your cervix. He looked at you as he saw you enjoying the stimulation. That's when he suddenly became jealous. "You better choke me now before I'll stop. I want to feel too.", he says as he slows down. He felt your hands tremble on his neck as you softly squeeze. He slowed down yet again as he forced your hands to press harder. "Don't you dare squeeze softer". Mammon slowly entered you as he and you both started to struggle with fitting his size into you. He took his time entering you to not hurt you. He towered over you and focussed on your reaction. He soon realized that he was hitting your cervix. He wasn't surprised about brushing against your cervix. He was big after all even for demon standards. He looked down at you and saw you shivering, sweating, moaning, and tearing up at him thrusting into you. He knew that he didn't necessarily have a size kink, but he had to admit that he loved seeing your smaller frame struggle and shiver. "You look so tiny right now..." Sitri very eager to thrust into you as he somewhat quickly pushed into you. He then hit your cervix and heard your heart speed up the moment he did. "Oh? Seems like I hit something sensitive.", he said with a very happy look on his face. He thrusts into you again and gets the same reaction. To say that he was delighted would be an understatement. He was thrilled as he started to repeat his thrusts and aimed for your cervix again and again. "Your heart sounds so pretty right now... It's fast, but calming in a way..." Zagan slowly pushed into you. He was focused on the feeling until he heard you moan loudly as he brushed against your cervix. He kind of stopped moving at that moment as his blush intensified. You kind of had to command him to continue as he hesitantly started thrusting into you again. He only groaned as if he was trying to communicate again with you. His lips started to travel along your skin as you felt him place little kisses on your neck. It almost seemed as if he was trying to hide his blush when he buried his face into your neck. He seemed very tame and cute for a big man like him. You adored it.

#whb #what in hell is bad #what in “hell” is bad? #whb asks #whb satan #whb beel #whb leviathan #whb mammon #whb sitri #whb zagan

[tender-rosiey]

hi hii (　；∀；) since its geto suguru's birthday today (03 february), could i pretty please with a cherry ontop kindly request something about it? can be suggestive or fluffy!!! bonus points if satoru's teasing him all the way through because we love an annoying bestfriend

in bloom — geto suguru x gn!reader

a/n: what’s with me writing hurt/comfort for characters’ bdays—forgive me anon, but I have decided to make him suffer a little first 🙏 and hey I am late again but what’s new 🧍‍♀️

suguru wouldn’t exactly call himself someone who views the world in a poetic way.

he doesn’t concern himself with the meaning of the sun’s particular position behind the clouds today or the darkness of the sky that seems to mesh with the rays of the sunset.

it all seems a little too complicated for his liking.

nature is to be loved, of course, he thinks, but he just isn’t the type to go into details about it.

he just lets out a small hum of appreciation and a thankful sigh about yet another day accompanied with a good weather and a sun that doesn’t burn his skin but warms it just right.

that’s enough he thinks.

but right now? he sure hoped that nature was the topic that occupied his mind instead of the incessant sound of clapping.

it plays on a loop, and when he thinks that it stopped—even for a second—he starts hearing it in the rhythm of anything around him.

he wants to rid himself of all this misery and being sentenced to relive this event in every time of the day. he desperately wants to forget it all, but he halts.

wouldn’t forgetting it disrespect those who have passed? disrespect the tears and blood spilled? disrespect the pain that his best friend had to go through alongside him?

wouldn’t mean that he is treating the friends who died along the way as a burden that he needs to dispose of? but if forgetting is disrespectful then the remembrance is devastative.

what does he do? does he act on it? does he forget it or not? or does he tried to find a solution, a way to rid everyone of this burden—but then he halts yet again. it feels too much. it is too much.

so he does what he thinks is best and he pushes it aside, neither forgetting or remembering it endlessly—as much as he can.

a bit of time passes, summer bursts through the door, and he has never hated it so much.

the sun is scathing to his skin, and the sweat makes him feel disgusting like those in the star plasma group. but the shower is a place that he fear? hates? despises? loathes?

the shower head never failed to let out drops in a rhythm that wickedly mirrored that of the claps of the people in that cult.

he notices the worried glances of his friends—those he sees anyway—and he appreciates those who ask about him when they get the chance to—satoru. still, he feels suffocated, and he keeps wondering just what will set him free from all of this.

in what form will salvation come in?

it came discreetly, that’s what he knows, but he doesn’t know when.

he doesn’t know when he started to seek the sun’s heat more, the darkness’ quietness, or the fields behind his school, especially the fields behind the school. flowers are nice, but what role do they play?

they simply just exist. they do nothing effective to help him with solving his inner turmoil, so why does he sit in the field, gently playing with the petals of an iris?

it’s a lot of questions. he knows. he is also searching for answers.

and salvation? he doesn’t expect it to come in the form of you.

he doesn’t know when you made your way into his heart, and he knows that he started looking forward to your “good morning, geto!” to transform into a “good morning, suguru?”

maybe because he cared about you, but why does he do that? then he remembers some stuff. they’re minor, but they are what he remembers at the moment, and he thinks they’re enough.

he remembers the worried glances of his friends—you—and he appreciates those who ask about him when they get the chance to—you then satoru.

he starts to remember how you followed him and never left him to his thoughts, always considerate of his feelings and asking him to convey what he truly wanted.

like that one time you going to buy meals for everyone. after you asked everyone their preferences, you went to him—leaving him for last and at the time, he remembers feeling a little offended because why?

you asked the same question that you asked to everyone, “what would you like to eat?”

and he replied with his constant at that time, “i am not that hungry, but satoru probably wants something sweet so you can get him kikufuku.”

“I already asked gojo what he wants. what do you want to eat?”

he stills for a moment, and he opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out. you roll your eyes with a smile, ignoring his malfunctioning, and ask him something else, “what’s your favorite food?”

he blinks before murmuring softly, “zaru soba.”

“see? that wasn’t so hard, was it?” you smile and ruffle his before running away yelling, “the best zaru soba is on the way!”

in that moment, he couldn’t help softening his expression and the small smile that appeared.

another thing that he had assumed is that this journey through these thoughts would be a solo one.

last thing he expected was you dragging him out to the roof  of the school before asking him right away, “what’s on your mind?”

he resists. it’s not your burden to shoulder, and, frankly, it’s none of your business, so why should he tell you?

so he doesn’t and replies lightly, “nothing.”

for some reason, when your expression becomes ridden with sympathy and sadness and your hands gently hold his own, he feels something.

your thumb rubs his hand soothingly as you murmur, “it’s okay; you don’t have to say anything just—“ you take a deep breath “—just know that I am here for you, and I am trying to understand—“

“why?”

your eyes travel to his face, and he is barely keeping it together.

“why did she have to go through that? why were they delighted in her deaths?”

you listened to all his questions and thought of answers together. words never stopped flowing from him, and you never stopped indulging him. he remembers that first ray of sun that hit his eyes.

he had been spilling his emotions till sunrise, and you stayed. you weren’t talking to him like he is crazy either. you discussed it through and through.

you stayed, and you were trying to understand.

then he figures out that you frequent the fields behind the school. you tell him that you go there because sometimes you just need a break from everything that surrounds jujutsu and the school itself.

he finds himself agreeing that, yes, sometimes we need a break.

at some point,  he finds himself going there with you. the two of you talked about anything, not just the thoughts that plagued his mind (plagued?). 

satoru bugs him about where he goes after school, but he tells him nothing. he feels that letting the secret of the fields being known by anyone other than you two makes it lose something to him.

gradually, he starts going there before you. while he waits, he finds himself thinking about how the sky is brighter nowadays. maybe it’s the seasons or some kind science stuff that satoru is into.

he laughs off the thought then he begins to see your figure approaching the field, slowly but surely.

he takes in your shocked face then the smile that creeps up your face. suddenly, the sun shone brighter, but a small breeze kept him cool.

that’s when he realized that spring has entered, and the daffodils are finally in bloom.

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @sonder-paradise @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies@pianopuppygirl @gojosblackqueen @kryscent @kunikida-simp @whoami-72 @mx-0-child @fiona782 @kisakitwister @imjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @dreamcastgirl99 @watyousayin @doobiebochana @laylasbunbunny @hojicha-expresso @4sat0ruu @nineooooo @chuuyasboots @alekssashka7 @rieejjyubi02 @satoryaa @nothisispatrick300 @fallencrescentmoon @etheviese @ho34gojo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @the-weeping-author @stray-npc @libbyistired @anon1412 @anakalana @maehemthemisfit @satorustar @b4nka1 @sad-darksoul @ko-fi-heart @pumpkindudeishere @suyaaachin @babyqueen17 @chaosguy352 @murakami-kotone @sukun4ryomen @yumieis @hearts4itoshi @sleepyxxhead @dunixxd @sleepycrybbylaiah @imjustaduckwholikesbread @emilyyyy-08 @spacebaby1 @arabellatreaty @viscade

copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

#jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk imagines #geto x reader #geto x y/n #geto x you #geto suguru x you #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x y/n #suguru x reader #suguru x y/n #suguru x you #jjk x y/n #jjk geto x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you

[kazutora-kurokawa]

izana with a reader who simply insists on pampering him, filling him with love and simply taking care of him

Izana x Affectionate!Loving!Reader

♡ SFW, gender neutral reader, fluff, kisses, hugs, cuddles, reader is just the best fr ♡

note: I need to give this man hugs and kisses right now fr 😭 thanks for requesting anon 🩷

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

🎴 Freezes up every time you hug him, he's not used to feeling someone's arms around him

🎴 Gets flustered when you kiss him, his whole face just turns red lol

🎴 Whenever you offer to do something for him, he declines, but you do it anyway and his voice sounds so small and vulnerable when he says thank you

🎴 Loves when you let him lay on your chest, it makes him feel loved and comforted

🎴 He gets frustrated easily and cries when he's mad, so he really appreciates when you let him cry on your shoulder

🎴 Introduces you to his found family friends and almost cries tears of joy when you get along with them

🎴 Gets nervous on dates even though he knows you aren't judging him and he can be himself

🎴 Plays songs on the guitar for you and apologizes profusely when he messes up

"S-sorry..I messed the whole song up didn't I?"

"Zana it's fine, keep playing, it sounded good."

🎴 Eventually gets comfortable hugging and cuddling you and gets super clingy

🎴 Whines whenever you have to get up and leave or stop cuddling him for any reason

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

Taglist

@arlerts-angel @i-literally-cant-with-this @trevengersprincess @giugiette @katshimizuu @happy-trenchcoated-impala @prncessrindou @drunkcheesecake @darkstarlight82 @reiners-milkbiddies

#tokyo revengers headcanons #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers fluff #izana fluff #izana x reader #Izana being vulnerable and taken care of is just *chef's kiss*

[reclinepilled]

needy, e.w.

cw: fluff!!! little angst, pet names (baby, beautiful, sweetheart, princess, gorgeous) like one curse word, reader yells at ellie, reader cries a teeny tiny bit, no masc/fem roles are established

desc: gamer!ellie is glued to her game while your patience runs short. also soft!ellie🙏.

a/n: happy march 1st guys! i wanted to share something i wrote while procrastinating some work. thanks for all the support on my last two posts. also the anon that sent in the request, im working on it <3 thank you for reading and reblogs are welcomed and greatly appreciateddd !

wc: 801 (i think)

PLEASE READ HERE ON INFORMATION ABOUT AND HOW TO HELP PALESTINE!!!

you try not to be so needy, you really do. however, your heart can't help but get a little heavy watching ellie completely ignore your presence on one of your days off. and she's not even ignoring you to study or work, it's to play her stupid games.

sure, you played your fair share of video games, as you had an undying love for that one genre. however, you didn't come over under the impression that you'd be getting lonely in her bed, angry, while occasionally letting out a frustrated sigh. she didn't pay attention to those, too busy yelling at her friends on whatever fps shooter she was glued to.

you got angrier and angrier thinking about it and listening to her mash the buttons on her keyboard and throw insults out into her mic. you swear you can feel the annoyance in your bloodstream. you just wanted to do skincare and facemasks, watch some movies, and maybe even bake with your girlfriend. you decide to put your anger aside and give her the benefit of the doubt. you get up from her bed to remind her of what you two had planned. maybe she forgot?

"ellie, baby?" you say as you grab her shoulder softly to get her attention. she glances up at you then moves her headset off one of her ears, "yea- jesse, what the hell! he was literally one hp!" she yells. "anyways, sorry, what's up?" ellie finally gives you two scoops of her attention. "el, i thought we were gonna spend time together..," you say, shifting your weight to one leg as you cross your arms. "yea, yea, of course. just give me five more minutes," ellie says as she turns back to her game. "you literally said that 30 minutes ago, el," you sigh. "i mean it this time," ellie turns to you, doing a puppy face jokingly.

any other time you would burst into a fit of laughter, however right now, you were genuinely pissed off. you stare at her for a few seconds in silence, she stares back. her face slowly drops as she realizes you're pretty upset. next thing you know, you've reached over and put her pc into sleep mode. "y/n! why!??" she whines like a teenage boy going through puberty. "because, i came over on my day off to spend time with you, i could be getting a manicure or something.. but i've spent nearly an hour and a half watching you play this shitty game!" you yell then you walk out of her room, fed up. you grab your bag next to the couch and start to put your belongings away.

"sweetheart! i'm sorry, i really am!" she says as she follows you out of the room. you ignore her, now putting your bag on your shoulder. "look," ellie comes in front of you and softly slides the bag off of your shoulder, she notices how you're still looking down. she gently grabs your shoulders while looking down at you with an apologetic look on her face, "i am so sorry, i just got caught up in the game. i enjoy you being here, and i find your presence so comforting, beautiful. i never meant to make you feel unappreciated, i'm sorry once again." she takes her hand and lifts your face up, and notices your tear stained cheeks.

ellie's heart quite honestly shattered into a million pieces, she didn't know she made you feel so bad but she understands now. "baby, we can do whatever you want," she pulls you into a meaningful embrace while rubbing your back. "els, i love you, sorry for yelling and overreacting-" she cuts you off, "no don't apologize, it was pretty justified, i was being dumb," she lets out an airy laugh, "i love you back, princess."

she could feel you smile against her chest and it felt like 10 tons were lifted off of her back. she pulls away to place a soft kiss on your forehead, then your nose, one on your cheek, and long one on your lips.

you straddle her on her bed while softly chuckling at the cute fuzzy animal headband you placed on ellie's head. you roll the jade roller all over her face, working in the serum you applied before. you can't help but admire how pretty she is. her constellations of freckles, each one so unique, her breathtaking deep eyes, and her long lashes you were so jealous of. little did you know, she was doing the same. you looked like a goddess from this angle, the light cascading down on your perfect figure emphasizing it. "hey baby?" ellie grabs your wrist. "yea, gorgeous?" you slightly lean back from her face, raising a brow.

"it's really hot when you yell at me."

reclinepilled

please do not plagiarize any of my works or post them on other websites without given permission !

#reclinepilled writes <3 #tlou #ellie tlou #ellie x reader #smut #ellie williams fluff #ellie fluff #ellie williams smut #ellie smut #ellie the last of us #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams angst #ellie angst #abby anderson #abby tlou #the last of us

[gh0stsp1d3r]

Willy and y/n just met and they talked about their dreams together like Willy wants to be the best chocolatier while y/n wants to be the best seamstress there ever was and they were each other’s first customers like y/n tried his chocolates and Willy let y/n fix his coat and when she finished Willy accidentally says I love you and y/n said it back and then both realized they said I love you to one another

so sorry this took a little to finish, anon ):

ℬ𝒾𝓁𝓁𝒷ℴ𝒶𝓇𝒹𝓈

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

You had first met him when he came in to your newly opened shop, a rip in his coat had caused him to land at your front door. The place was colorfully decorated, and it was neat.

“Hello! How can I help you?” You said happily, you had just opened up today and he had been your first customer.

“Hi!” He said back, your excitement was radiating off of you practically. He reciprocated it. He walked up to the desk you were behind.

“I just ripped this on my boat, and you were the first seamstress I’ve come across. Could you… by any chance fix it?” He held up his coat in his hands, showing the clean rip. It was small, thankfully.

“Okay. Yeah, easy fix. Should take only a few minutes. If you want you can take a seat, or stand. There’s food and drinks over there.”

“For free?”

You nodded, smiling at the man. He smiled back and quickly walked over to the food and drinks, after not having eaten for hours.

He watched from afar as you sat down in your little room, carefully sewing and mending it. You were engulfed in it, and you were very fast.

Once it was done, it looked just as it did before, as if the tear had never existed.

He smiled as you handed it to him, he put it over his shoulders.

“Thank you…” he said, not finishing his sentence as if waiting for your name.

“Y/n. You are?”

“Willy Wonka.” He held his hand out for you to shake, you shook it, and you didn’t realize the piece of chocolate he had slid into your hand upon doing so.

You smiled and looked at it. “You’re a chocolate maker?”

“Indeed I am.” He said, rummaging through his pockets for his sovereigns.

He found 2, handing both to you.

“Only one is fine-“ you said, but he slid both to you anyways.

He shrugged, “it’s a gift.”

You smiled. “You know, you’re my first customer.”

“Really? Well, you’re the first person I’ve given my chocolate to.”

You looked back down at the chocolate wrapped in gold foil. You smiled as you put it into your mouth, he watched for your reaction. You smiled, it was delicious. Probably one of the best- if not the best- thing you’ve ever had.

“It’s amazing. Way better than anything from the gallery.” You said, shocked at it.

“You think so? That’s exactly where I’m headed.”

————————————————————-

Now days later, you both walked down the streets. You both walked with no worries in the world, not ms Scrubitt, not the police, not the chocolate cartel.

It was cold out, and you held a hot chocolate made specially for you from Willy.

“You know, I think you’re gonna be the best chocolatier ever.” You said once you both sat down.

“Yeah?” He asked with a smile, looking at you.

“Yeah.”

“Well, I think you’re gonna be the most famous seamstress. I can already see your name on billboards.”

You smiled at him, and you rested your head onto his shoulder.

“Mmm. You think I can do it?”

“I know you can.” His fingers traced over the spot on his coat that you once sewed and fixed for him.

You smiled again, getting up and giving him a small kiss on the cheek.

“I love you.” He says quietly when you set your head back on his shoulder.

“I love you.” You shut your eyes, not even realizing what you had said until after.

#willy wonka x you #willy wonka x reader #willy wonka #timothee chalamet wonka #wonka x reader #wonka movie #wonka #wonka 2023 #timothee!wonka x reader #timothee chalamet x you #timothée x reader #timothee fanfic #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee x reader #timothee chamalet #timothée chalamet