wishfully

a scattering of thoughts and love.

[wistfulpetals]

disastrous dongmin/bin || he’s always loved quidditch.

quidditch is one sport that has been with him since he was old enough for his parents to spell him to a broomstick with a sticking charm and let him zoom around their backyard. neither of his parents were particularly good or bad at the sport, though his mother had played on the team for a year or two while she had attended hogwarts. she had never found a particular passion for it, nor a particular talent. but joshua moon was born to play quidditch, or so it seemed, even from a young age. he makes the gryffindor team in his second year — not unheard of, but certainly rare. he’d been so disappointed when he found out that, true to his parents’ and sister’s warnings, first years were not allowed to bring their own brooms. and he just couldn’t do as well on a school broom, so he resolved to dedicate himself to practicing and learning until he was sure he could make the team in his second year. sure enough, he does, beating out older hopefuls and stunning the gryffindor captain. for someone so damn tiny, compared to the older boys and girls, he iss certainly good at catching, throwing, and darting around on his broom.

academics have never been his strong point, though. he isn’t stupid, no, certainly far from it, but neither does any type of study come as easily to him as quidditch did. he enjoys learning, he really does, but the true thrill comes when he is on a broom, soaring over the wide expanse of the fields. when he was younger, he loved it a little too much. he placed it above other things, above other priorities, and these hurdles were obstacles he had to overcome.

( sixteen. )

he knows he’s sick from the moment he wakes up, the room spinning dizzily around him when he sits up and his neck damp with cold sweat. everything feels too warm and too cold, all at the same time. his head is heavy and it feels like he’s carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. too much, it’s too much, but he has a game that morning and there is no way their reserve will be ready. not for a game as tough as that one promises to be. he rubs at his eyes in exhaustion, trying to clear the fuzziness out of his eyes through sheer willpower, but to no avail. he feels like death as he gets dressed and fumbles his way downstairs, determination powering his limbs. he stumbles into the great hall, plopping down at the ravenclaw table, next to his boyfriend, a soft little kiss planted onto his cheek, and looking at the food makes him nauseous. “toast?” dongmin offers.

well, that settles that. there’s no way he’s eating. “no... m’not hungry.” he shakes his head, pouring himself a glass of water slowly. dongmin stares at him, forehead creasing in worry.

“come with me?” he asks, and bin acquiesces, standing up silently, his glass of water untouched. the older boy leads him out of the great hall and he’s not really sure where they’re going but he follows obediently anyways. he’d follow dongmin anywhere, after all. they wind up in the kitchens and bin would be surprised but he’s not, sinking onto the bench when dongmin says he can, his eyes fluttering slightly and he tries to keep them open. he feels so queasy, and just the thought of food is making him feel sicker. he can hear dongmin talking to the elves, but his brain is too tired to process exactly what he’s saying, and so he just sits there in a daze, his eyes fluttering closed in an effort to prevent the nausea. “binnie, i asked them to make you 계란찜.” his boyfriend’s voice comes from somewhere above him, and he opens his eyes slowly to find the other’s face. “can you eat some?”

he’s quiet for a moment before he exhales shakily, “i don’t know...” his voice is honest and a little broken. he loves food, he really does -- he usually eats everything he can, and perhaps that’s why dongmin is so worried at the staunch refusal of food.

“just a little bit,” the ravenclaw presses and he doesn’t offer up any rebuttal, willing to try for dongmin, even though the sight of the steaming dish the elves bring at that moment evokes no desire to eat in him. a spoon is pressed into his hand and he stares at it for a moment, clearly deciding whether he wants to eat or not . “did you not sleep well?” dongmin asks, and bin sinks the spoon into the dish so he doesn’t have to reply quite yet.

he’s silent for a moment longer before he replies quietly, “i don’t know...” and he hasn’t moved the spoon yet. the prefect nudges his hand in reminder, his eyebrows furrowing softly.

“just a little bit,” he pleads softly and he’s peering at his boyfriend’s face to try and figure out what’s going on. obediently, the gryffindor lifts the spoon listlessly, only a tiny bit of food on the spoon and he eats it quietly, slowly, his cheeks flushed pink with fever, warm to the touch. dongmin exhales softly when the food passes his lips, and a cool hand is pressed against his forehead, the ravenclaw immediately pulling away. “keep eating, please. i’ll be right back.” bin obeys what the other says but only for a while, slowly eating tiny little bites and barely any of the dish is gone when he gives up, letting the spoon sit inside the steaming egg, his eyes dull.

when dongmin returns, a small sound of distress slips from his lips at the sight of his boyfriend, just staring blankly into space, not eating anymore, and he lifts up the younger’s bangs to slide a cold compress underneath and press it against his forehead. a whole body shiver wracks the gryffindor at the coolness of the cloth, and dongmin takes the spoon from limp fingers, bin giving it up easily. he scoops up mouthfuls of food, feeding it to his obviously ill boyfriend, and bin’s lips just part obediently, eating whatever the other is feeding to him, although his eyes betray that he isn’t there mentally. the gryffindor is only about halfway done -- shocking, considering his usual ability to eat -- when he shakes his head at the next spoonful, turning his face away. dongmin’s hand comes up to touch his cheek, and even that is hot to the touch, obviously ill. “you need to go back to bed. or to the hospital wing,” the worried ravenclaw insists.

bin shakes his head stubbornly, though even that movement makes him feel a little more dizzy. “i can’t,” he insists softly, his voice faded, “today... it’s really important...”

dongmin’s expression is full of distress. “you’re sick,” he protests, and the gryffindor presses his lips together into a thin line.

“i’m fine,” he insists even though it’s clear that he’s nothing of the sort. “i have to play.”  

“you’re going to get hurt,” the older boy replies, his voice faint and barely audible, visibly worried sick about his stupid boyfriend.

although his expression creases into something apologetic, he shakes his head again. “i have to play.” he repeats stubbornly. their reserve chaser won’t be able to play on such short notice, and she hasn’t been practicing with them as much as she should, so if she plays, he knows they probably won’t win.

“don’t you have a backup chaser?” dongmin protests again, “i don’t want to see you get hurt...” the older boy’s voice is thick, close to tears, and the guilt that wells up inside bin is deep, but his determination to not let his team down is stronger.

“she won’t do well on such short notice,” he murmurs lowly in reply and he lifts his hand carefully to cup the other’s cheek, head aching and fuzzy, but focused enough for this. “i’ll be careful, i promise.” his voice is low -- talking at his usual volume is taxing, and he knows he’ll probably suffer for this later, but he has to do it.

he feels the weight of dongmin’s cheek against his hand, the other obviously trying to calm himself down. “you can barely even walk straight,” the other boy chokes out, “how are you going to be able to play any better?”

he doesn’t have an answer for the other immediately, instead simply sighing, “i know our formations like the back of my hand... she doesn’t.” he can feel it when his boyfriend opens his eyes, the expression in them pleading, the ravenclaw clutching his hand close and he meets the other’s eyes for just a moment before he looks away.

“you’re sick,” the ravenclaw whispers. bin can’t stare into dongmin’s eyes for too long, or he knows that he will cave at that look, closing his eyes and shaking his head slightly.

“i have to play,” he repeats for a third time.

“binnie, please...” dongmin’s voice cracks and he’s so, so close to tears, bin can tell, but he has to. standing up, he pulls his hand away from the other’s, turning back slightly and he exhales before he turns back towards the door.

“i’m sorry, minnie.” he murmurs before he steps out of the kitchens, determined. it’s just a fever and he’s played through worse, but somehow he feels sicker when he remembers the look of fear in dongmin’s eyes.

if he’d turned around, he would have seen the tears dripping down dongmin’s face, and that certainly would have broken him.

—

he’s focusing through sheer determination and force of will, forcing his eyes to focus and his mind to stay clear despite the fog that’s weighing heavily on him. the only thing he can focus on is the quaffle, and even that is a challenge. there are gaping holes in his performance and there are moments where he nearly slips, taking a turn too sharp or lunging too far for the quaffle, but somehow, miraculously, he manages to stay on his broom. but even the definite holes in his usually polished play aren’t enough to stop him from scoring, natural talent making up for his inability to concentrate. gryffindor is in a sizeable lead when a bout of dizziness strikes him and he sways on his broom, slowing down, a hand coming up to press against his head. it takes him a moment before he regains his balance, speeding up again just in time to catch the quaffle, tossing it neatly through a hoop after a faked maneuver. nausea is churning in his stomach and he thinks, rather dimly through the fog that’s still struggling to settle, that he might really have to sit out soon if their seeker doesn’t catch the snitch soon.

it’s when his eyes can no longer focus that he sways, starting to sink down slightly in the air, knowing he needs to sit down or risk genuinely passing out. but it’s in that moment that their seeker zooms past him with a triumphant shout coming moments later and he feels the strongest wave of relief surge through him. he descends slowly on his broom, all of his concentration focused on trying to get himself to the ground safely. lifting glassy eyes, he meets his boyfriend’s frightened eyes, and everything goes quiet in his head. there’s a rushing noise in his ears and he can’t hear anything, his vision blurring, and the last thing he remembers is dongmin’s face contorting in horror.

—

when he wakes next, his world is blurry and his head is spinning, not even having a moment before he turns his head to the side, vomiting. it’s only thanks to madam pomfrey’s quick reactions that most of it is caught in a basin she conjures, a damp towel carefully wiping away the remnants of vomit on his mouth and a quick evanesco cleaning up anything she’d missed. he moans low in his throat, his head lolling as his chest heaves, eyes squeezed shut. it takes him a few moments before he remembers what he’d seen before he’d woken up again and he croaks out his boyfriend’s name, more of a pained whimper than an actual word. a cool compress on his forehead is the only thing he can feel, and he whimpers his boyfriend’s name again, wondering in his fevered state if dongmin is mad at him and not here. “minnie...” he moans, his hand blindly clutching at blankets in an effort to find the ravenclaw. he can dimly hear madam pomfrey scolding him for playing while sick, the game having undoubtedly worsened his condition. 

“bin,” he hears his boyfriend’s voice, cool fingers wrapping around his too warm hand and squeezing gently, and he forces his eyes open to try and seek out the other’s face. guilt is wracking him now along with the nausea and fever chills, his entire body trembling as he finally finds his boyfriend’s face. the ravenclaw is pale with worry, and bin is too out of it to notice the tears glistening in bright brown eyes, but if he was, he would be feeling even more guilty than he already is. 

“s... sorry... so... sorry...” he breathes out, his voice cracking as he coughs, hard, his body shaking with the force. dongmin’s eyes on him call his attention back and he feels the other’s hand shift as the ravenclaw takes a deep breath. he hears the no-nonsense voice of madam pomfrey in the back of his head and he dimly registers that she must be talking to dongmin, but his eyes have closed again. his lips part when she prompts them to, the potions poured into his mouth through his fever haze, his temperature raging high and his hand is trembling in his boyfriend’s grip, chest rising and falling hesitantly, coughs breaking the heaving breaths occasionally. 

dongmin’s hand trembles in his, hot tears splashing down onto their joined hands, and it makes him open his eyes, his body still driven by concern for the ravenclaw even when he’s nearly delirious with fever. his other hand lifts as though weighted down by lead, fingers reaching out to try and brush away tears clumsily, and dongmin hiccups at the gryffindor’s jerky movements. “you’re so stupid,” the older boy whispers as he clutches onto his boyfriend’s hand like a lifeline, equally mad at the gryffindor for being stupid and relieved that he’s going to be okay. 

his eyes flutter in confusion at the other’s words and he parts his lips, “no...?” the protest is weak and barely articulated, so close to falling asleep from sheer exhaustion. 

“you idiot,” dongmin continues, and bin frowns a little bit, his eyes slipping closed again even as he makes a noise of protest. he’s too exhausted to fight anymore and when he drifts off into sleep, his face smooths, the expression of pain and discomfort fading slowly as he settles onto the path of recovery.

( twenty. )

the game has been going on for much longer than most of their games do, and all of them are tired. bin can see it as he soars from one end of the pitch to the other, hands deftly passing the quaffle back and forth with another chaser, and they score a goal, surging up into the air triumphantly. they’re ahead, everyone is tired, and they’re really just waiting for the seekers to find the golden snitch. they’re so close to making the snitch not matter, but the game has been going on for hours now and everyone is ready for this to end. but bin wants to make sure that this game will result in their victory no matter what, and it’s with a deft hand that he steals the quaffle, both hands coming off his broom to pass the quaffle to one of his teammates when pain explodes through his chest. the quaffle drops from his fingers as his body registers the blazing pain and he chokes.

a bludger, hit into his chest at point blank range, so close that the bat itself follows the bludger against his body. the sickening crunch that distantly registers in his shock tells him that it’s serious, and the force of the blow -- he’s not holding onto his broom, and the force of the blow knocks him off, his broom, toppling backwards through the air. there’s screaming but he can’t understand it, and he lands on the ground, his leg breaking his fall, snapping underneath him and he arches in pain, a strangled cry ripping its way out of his throat, gasping for breath. blood bubbles from his lips as he coughs, pain wracking his body and everything hurts so much he can barely breathe. the attending healer rushes over, his teammates all landing around him, but he can hardly even focus on just the healer’s face, fire lancing through his chest, his leg screaming in agony, and he’s gasping breathlessly, his chocolate eyes wide, glazed with pain and shock. he distantly hears dongmin’s panicked voice, screaming his name, and he’d look for his boyfriend but he can’t even breathe in that moment.

but dongmin’s face swims into focus above his eyes, warmth enveloping his hand, and he tries to whisper, “minnie,” but all that comes out is a choked little gurgle, blood spilling from his lips. cool hands touch his side and he gasps, whimpers, even the gentle touches burning like fire and they ease his jersey up. he can hardly keep his eyes open, his blond hair matted with sweat and he’s panting, his chest weakly heaving as he struggles to breathe. everything moves, his eyes flutter, rolling back in his head as the pain swallows him, and he knows nothing more except the darkness.

—

dongmin tries very hard not to cry as he stumbles down the bleachers, towards his lively boyfriend who’s crumpled on the ground. everything had happened so quickly and he had heard the cushioning charm being shouted but it had missed, bin falling too quickly and he had watched with bile rising up in his throat as his boyfriend landed awkwardly, a second cushioning charm shot a second too late to prevent his leg from folding underneath him, but quick enough to make sure he doesn’t injure anything else. dongmin feels sick, like he’s about to throw up, but he can’t — not now, not when bin is screaming in pain, cut off abruptly by coughing and — merlin, is that blood — dongmin’s stomach churns.

he’s sobbing out his boyfriend’s name, scrubbing at his face and he stumbles over to fall to his knees next to his fallen love, a hand immediately going to bin’s, the usually warm boy’s hand clammy with shock and he feels the other’s fingers twitch in his hold, leaning over his boyfriend’s face to meet chocolate eyes hazy with pain, wide with fear as bin gasps in short little breaths. bin’s lips form familiar shapes, his name — minnie — but nothing comes out except a little gurgle and blood, burbling from his lips, and dongmin feels bile rise up in his throat again, swallowing it down forcefully as he forces a smile onto his face. “i’m h-here, binnie, don’t... don’t w-worry, i’m right here... y-you’re going to be fine...” he’s trying to convince himself of those words as he says them, but bin’s eyes are so full of trust even through the agony that he must be in, and dongmin almost hurts to see it.

they touch his side and bin’s eyes flutter as he gasps in pain, and dongmin leans over him more, a hand coming up to stroke his cheek gently, soothing him even as the healer in attendance eases his jersey up. dongmin turns slightly to look and he wishes he hadn’t. the usually perfect expanse of skin is mottled with heavy bruising, purple and red and black, and dongmin knows what that means. heavy internal bleeding, and the thought of that makes him feel even more ill, especially as his boyfriend cries out weakly in obvious agony, even dongmin’s hand on his face not enough to soothe him.

it’s almost a mercy when the healer levitates bin up into the air, the younger boy’s struggle to breathe evident, and the movement must shift something because bin’s hand goes limp in dongmin’s. dongmin feels guilty but he’s almost relieved that bin is unconscious — at least it means that bin isn’t awake to hurt anymore. the thought of what else it means causes the tears to flood down his face, obscuring his vision even as he stumbles along with the healer to keep ahold of bin’s hand. it means that his boyfriend, his love, the one who has such a high pain tolerance after all the injuries he’d suffered during his many years of athleticism, is in so much pain that he hadn’t been able to bear it anymore. even though logically he knows that bin will be just fine — magic is pretty amazing and dongmin knows it full well — it’s hard to tell his anxiety that when nothing but the worst scenarios are tearing through his mind.

he doesn’t really remember how he winds up in the waiting room of st. mungo’s, but their families join them at some point. taekwoon and hyuna come to him as soon as they see him, and hyuna cups his face in her hands, a small but sad smile on her face and she murmurs gently, “don’t you worry, dongmin, binnie is strong and he’ll be just fine.” she pulls him into a hug and he melts into it for a bit, pulling away after a short while, wanting to be strong for his boyfriend and also for their families.

taekwoon adds quietly from next to his wife, “i’ve seen worse injuries than this, and every one of them is fine. don’t worry, dongmin.” dongmin has to admit that it’s a little more reassuring coming from taekwoon, as another professional quidditch player, and he sniffles a bit, not wanting to cry more. he feels like his boyfriend has been under the healers’ care for hours but he doesn’t know how long it’s actually been.

it’s when hakyeon comes bustling in, bomi at his side, that dongmin feels the tears well up again, the older male booking it right for his brother. hakyeon has always been the strong one, and dongmin throws himself into hakyeon’s waiting arms, the tears flowing against his will. hakyeon holds him close, soothing him in the way he knows best, and dongmin gasps out broken little fears and all of his worries, cradled in hakyeon’s arms like he had been as a child. there’s something so safe about hakyeon holding him, and when dongmin sits up again, he feels calmer.

one of the healers comes out not too long after, spotting dongmin and she smiles down at the obviously worried male, fingers playing with the hem of the matching jersey. “you’re with joshua moon, right? he’s doing just fine. everything is healed up and you can go see him now. he’s asleep right now but he’ll probably wake up soon. he had several broken ribs, one of which punctured his lung, so he’ll probably be a little tender there and might have some shortness of breath over the next week. his leg was also broken, but that was fairly clean and an easy fix. i’d still recommend that he gives it a few days to rest. he should take it easy for a week or two, and no practice for two weeks.” dongmin’s nodding the instant she says bin’s name and relief floods through him when he hears that his boyfriend is okay, slumping against hakyeon, who pays attention to the list of injuries, just in case his younger brother is too relieved to process everything. but dongmin is listening carefully, thanking the healer breathlessly and he stands up, glancing down at their waiting families, relief etched on all of their faces. the relief on bin’s mother’s face is almost palpable, but she gestures for dongmin to go ahead first.

bin is sleeping when dongmin walks into the hospital room, immediately taking a seat next to the younger male, taking bin’s now-warm hand in his own. his boyfriend looks like he’s just sleeping, the blankets pulled up to his chest, all visible parts of his body free of bruising, blood, and bandages. it sets dongmin’s anxiety at ease, but only partially -- he thinks he won’t feel better until bin is awake and talking again, but at least the younger male looks peaceful now.

--

he comes back to awareness slowly, disoriented, warmth around his hand and a sore kind of tenderness in his chest. he groans a little, the noise soft and barely there, but it’s enough for the grip on his hand to tighten and for his boyfriend’s face to come into his field of vision. “binnie?” the older male’s voice is clearly worried and he makes a soft sound, trying to figure out exactly what had happened, his eyes fixing on dongmin’s face.

“minnie,” he whispers in reply and dongmin’s face crumples in relief. bin’s forehead furrows in confusion and his voice is hoarse when it comes out, dry. “i... what.... happened?” he mumbles and dongmin doesn’t answer him right away, carefully helping him sit up and feeding a straw between his lips. he drinks hungrily, throat dry and the water soothes it, and it’s only after he has water in him that dongmin speaks again.

“you were hurt,” and the former ravenclaw’s voice is pained, “do you remember?” bin is about to shake his head before the phantom pain in his ribs aches and he exhales softly, his eyes widening.

”oh, i... i fell.” his voice is soft and he frowns a little bit. “my chest...?” he asks and his voice is uncertain, frowning softly to himself and he rubs at his eyes. dongmin nods, his eyes a little haunted, remembering how the other had looked lying there on the ground, gasping in pain, and he thinks ruefully that it’s something he’ll have nightmares about.

“you had several broken ribs, one of which punctured your lung, and a broken leg,” he recites from memory, his voice weak with relief, “the healers said you need to take it easy and no practice for two weeks.” bin takes in all the information, nodding slowly, and he turns to dongmin quietly. 

“i’m sorry,” he murmurs to his boyfriend and he’s still really fuzzy on the details of what had happened, remembering pain and more pain and agony. dongmin’s eyebrows furrow together at the apology. 

“it’s not your fault,” dongmin sighs and his expression is exceptionally displeased. “you didn’t fall, per say — that... that stupid!” his voice is unusually venomous and angry, frowning heavily. “he hit you!” bin has to admit that this attitude, while entirely uncharacteristic of his usually gentle and placid boyfriend, is very amusing to him, and he coughs out a soft little laugh, his eyes crinkling up and he thinks that overall, magic is great. what might have taken him weeks, months even, to recover from, is all healed up and all he has are the muscle twinges and pains that will dissipate with just a bit of time. 

“i don’t really remember much,” he admits with a soft little sigh. “i just remember it hurting... and not much outside of that.” the former ravenclaw’s lips press together at that and it’s clear he doesn’t like the thought of his boyfriend in pain, but both of them are undeniably grateful that it hadn’t been more serious. 

“he was suspended!” dongmin suddenly remembers. “suspended for the rest of the season, taekwoon hyung said, and your team won. everyone was distracted for a while until they took you off the pitch. taekwoon hyung said that right after all the chaos, your seeker found the snitch and you beat them by over 300 points.” the older male’s voice is smug, pleased that his boyfriend’s injuries had found some kind of justice, and bin can’t help but smile at the other’s words and expression. it’s all too clear to him that taekwoon had literally dictated a good deal of information at the other, and dongmin had regurgitated it, often necessary when it came to quidditch. 

even after five years together and numerous professional interviews, dongmin amazingly still didn’t really understand the concepts of quidditch. bin finds it endearing more than anything else, not really offended — he can’t be, after dongmin has admitted multiple times that all of his attention is only ever focused on one joshua moon. 

he can’t help it as a little yawn tears itself from his mouth and he winces afterwards, the action having stretched his tender chest, and dongmin immediately jerks to his feet. “go back to sleep, binnie, and we can go home afterwards.” his voice is soft as he tucks the blankets back around his boyfriend, and bin sinks into the pillows gratefully. 

“... kay,” he agrees softly and it’s a testament to how exhausted he must be, even after the magical healing, that he doesn’t even protest. “love you...” he whispers and his chocolate eyes are already drooping heavily, sleepy and tired. 

“i love you too, binnie,” dongmin’s voice is so soft, a hand reaching out to brush bin’s soft blond hair, now clean and a little damp, out of his face. “sleep well.”

[wistfulpetals]

snapshots of us dongmin/bin || the story of how moon bin and cha dongmin grow up together.

00. an introduction to the photo album of moon bin & cha dongmin.

bin is a sleepy child. he can fall asleep anywhere and everywhere, mostly because he exerts himself so much that he tires himself out equally as quickly. but bin is also the type of child who just appreciates naps, and enjoys sleeping just as much as he enjoys playing. this is convenient when it comes to being friends with dongmin, because dongmin doesn’t like to play in the same way bin does. dongmin is much more peaceful, more studious, more calm than bin will ever be, so with dongmin as his constant playmate, bin learns to take advantage of his other hobbies.

after the fiasco at the party where they’d finally cleared up their one-sided misunderstanding (dongmin had simply never noticed that there was a problem, while bin had been devastated), their parents (read: moms) had decided that their sons needed to be closer since they would be in the same year in hogwarts. 

(years later, bin will wonder if his mother had foreseen the massive crush he would develop on dongmin and vice versa. mothers are all-knowing, after all, aren’t they?)

but therein lies the original problem — bin is too loud for dongmin. too excited. too active. but bin likes dongmin enough that he can understand that his friend doesn’t want to run around and make messes like he does, so he sits quietly as much as he can. dongmin always sighs and tells him that he can roll around and do whatever he wants, and bin almost always gives in, taking advantage of all of the mats that have been laid out in the playroom they occupy for the most part. 

bin has always been quite the athletic one, and he practices his gymnastics when he’s too full of energy for dongmin. he goes tumbling around and around the room, practicing his somersaults before he moves into cartwheels, front flips, back flips, and when he’s done, he’s always tired out. if he doesn’t feel like gymnastics, it’s other things, like quidditch practice on his child’s broomstick, but bin is always, always moving. 

(unbeknownst to him, dongmin watches sometimes when bin is completely absorbed in his own activities.)

unfailingly, when he’s tired out, he patters over to dongmin’s side, plopping himself down next to his reading friend. dongmin makes the best pillow, he decides. 

so this is a collection of snapshots when bin fell asleep on dongmin and the progression of their friendship. 

— 

01. bin crying, a bruise blooming on his cheek, dongmin’s face creased with worry, touching bin’s face gently, a book discarded on the side.

bin had tired himself out again, and dongmin isn’t even surprised when he feels his friend’s — parasite’s? — weight settle against him, a head resting in his lap. he’s reading a book today as usual, but it’s a little heavier than the ones he’s used to, so his fingers are starting to get tired. 

usually, dongmin is really good at holding onto his books and reading while bin sleeps in his lap, but today — today, the book slips from his tired fingers, and he realizes what’s about to happen the second before it happens. he fumbles for the book, but to no avail — the book falls, slams into bin’s face, and his friend wakes up with a startled scream of pain. dongmin flinches at the scream, and just that fraction is long enough for the pain to register, the younger boy starting to cry, confused and in pain. 

frantic, dongmin doesn’t know what to do, panic rising up in his chest and he hiccups. “o-oh no,” he whimpers and he carefully tries to touch bin’s face to calm him down, the little boy sobbing and clutching at the place where pain is radiating out from, and dongmin hears the footsteps outside his door, attention drawn by the crying. 

bin’s mother comes in and dongmin immediately turns his attention to the adult, his umber eyes wide and full of fear. “a-auntie, i—” she leans down to handle her son, soothing voice cutting through his crying. 

“what’s wrong, binnie? come on, baby, let mommy see...” she coaxes, and bin lets her pulls his hands away from his face, a nasty bruise already blooming on his cheek, and he hiccups with tears flowing from his eyes. “oh no, what happened?” she asks the two children, and bin just hiccups again, having no idea at all. 

“m-my book slipped... i... i dropped it b-by accident,” dongmin stammers, “i’m s-sorry, i didn’t mean—” bin’s mom shushes dongmin gently, her expression softening. 

“there, there — i know you wouldn’t have hurt binnie on purpose, dongminnie.” she reassures gently, patting the older boy’s head, her son still crying softly. “it’s okay, baby, we’ll put some cream on it and it’ll stop hurting soon, i promise.” she kisses the bruise gently and bin hiccups in response, lips curved down in a pout and his chocolate eyes are liquid with tears. his bottom lip trembles as he tries to stop crying, and she beckons for dongmin to come and soothe the younger boy. 

wracked with guilt, dongmin moves over obediently, his eyes filled with upset and he pats bin’s uninjured cheek gently. “i’m sorry, binnie... i didn’t mean to hurt you...” he apologizes over and over again, trying to stop the child from crying, his eyebrows furrowed together in worry. bin’s mom can’t help but take a few photos before she goes downstairs to get the bruise cream, already hearing her son’s sobs starting to taper off. she hears dongmin’s words and her son’s response just before she’s out of earshot, and it makes her smile.

“next time, sleep on my shoulder, okay?” 

“k-kay...”

— 

02. bin sleeping, head pillowed on dongmin’s shoulder, his mouth open, dongmin’s head on bin’s head, a book open in his lap, fingers slack.

today, he had spent his time doing backflips, front flips, and other gymnastics while dongmin read as usual. when he’s all tuckered out, he comes up to dongmin’s side, tucking himself against the older male happily and his eyes trace over the words on the page. they’re a little too difficult for him, and he’s sleepy, so he doesn’t put much effort into actually trying to figure out what’s going on. ever since the incident where dongmin had dropped a particularly heavy book on his face, bin had taken dongmin’s words to heart and only slept on his shoulder from that moment on. so he pillows his head against dongmin’s shoulder, yawning widely, the other boy always smelling so nice, a comforting scent that makes bin think of home, feeling rather comforted and safe. 

he honestly isn’t sure sometimes if dongmin even likes him, but the fact that the older boy lets bin use him as a pillow constantly must mean something, right? bin’s nose twitches slightly and he turns his head to inhale more of dongmin’s scent, his overly sensitive nose appreciating the very subtle smell from the older boy, and it lulls him into sleep. dongmin doesn’t react at all, simply letting bin sleep on his shoulder, turning the pages of his book quietly. before even he realizes it, the turning of the pages slows down, his fingers going limp and he drifts off with his head pillowed against the younger boy’s head. 

this is the sight dongmin’s mother finds when she comes up to fetch them downstairs for dinner, smiling to herself and carefully snapping a few photos before she wakes the sleepy children up, bin clinging to dongmin in the aftermath of being awoken. 

—

03. bin pillowed against dongmin’s side in bed, dongmin’s hand in bin’s hair and a book resting on his lap, other hand in the middle of flipping a page.

it’s only natural that their playdates eventually turn to sleepovers. they’re both eight when the first one occurs, bin proclaiming happily that this is what he wanted from dongmin for his birthday. it’s been just over seven months since bin had finally broken through the barrier of shyness that had prevented their friendship. that’s not to say that dongmin has completely loosened up, but in his own way, he reciprocates what bin gives very freely, and that’s enough for him. he gets more shy smiles from dongmin than before, the silent invitation from the older male, and bin fits himself into dongmin’s life with all the ease that he carries around so plainly. 

it’s probably how they find themselves here, with bin curled up against dongmin’s side. the younger boy has an earlier bedtime, and with his tendency to overexert himself, he tires out more quickly than dongmin, who prefers to read. so it’s not unusual that even at a sleepover, bin is asleep already, a small hand fisted in dongmin’s shirt, mouth slightly open and lips parted, face smushed against the other’s side, half on the pillow and half on dongmin. dongmin’s book is propped up on his lap, flipping the pages quietly with his right hand as his left idly plays with baby soft strands of hair, buried in bin’s hair. he hasn’t read this book before and it’s quite fascinating; bin’s room certainly contains books that dongmin would love to read more at a later time.

it’s this scene that bin’s mother walks in on, dongmin so engrossed in his book that he doesn’t notice the entrance of the other’s mother, giving her perfect opportunity to sneak a few photos before dongmin startles upon noticing her presence. the jerk stirs bin awake as well, who whines wordlessly, chocolate puppy eyes heavy with sleep, and he just burrows closer to dongmin before settling down again. dongmin, automatically, after a hurried greeting to his friend’s mother, pats the other’s hair gently, soothing the younger boy back to sleep like one might soothe a puppy. bin’s little whines of protest quiet after not too long, the younger boy drifting off to sleep, and dongmin turns his attention back to his book, bin’s mother long gone. 

-- 

04. bin and dongmin, curled up with each other, bin’s head tucked under dongmin’s chin and a hand fisted in dongmin’s shirt, one of dongmin’s hands in bin’s hair.

the favor had to be reciprocated at some time, and on one of their many subsequent sleepovers, it’s bin’s turn to stay at dongmin’s house. their houses are quite different -- for one, dongmin has lots of house elves! bin had never realized just how many things house elves could do, and he’s so amused by the bedtime routine that he’s constantly bursting into little giggles, even when he’s sleepy. 

they’re both sleepy that night, having had a very active day and he had dragged dongmin around and around, definitely tiring out the older boy after their trip out. so it is that they’re both tucked into bed, no book in sight for dongmin, and dongmin’s mother promises to come up in a few minutes to turn off the lights for them. but bin falls asleep almost as soon as he’s tucked into bed, a hand fisted in dongmin’s shirt as is his habit, head tucked securely under dongmin’s chin. it’s the first time he’s ever been tucked there, but dongmin’s side and his shoulder are both common locations, so it only makes sense that the younger boy would automatically gravitate towards this kind of position. 

perhaps if dongmin wasn’t so sleepy, he’d protest more. as it is, he just slips his hand into baby soft hair, petting it gently and he thinks he’ll stay awake for his mother. but his mother takes longer than expected, and before dongmin knows it, he’s drifting off as well, chest rising and falling gently, fast asleep, all cuddled up with his constant playmate. 

dongmin’s mother comes back to kiss them goodnight and turn off the lights, but to her surprise, they’re both already asleep, and her lips curve up in a wry grin. her friend is going to have a field day that this hadn’t happened where she could see it, she muses as she takes a photo to send to the younger boy’s mother. meanwhile, dongmin and bin slumber on, utterly undisturbed.

[wistfulpetals]

if you’re annoying enough dongmin/bin || the story of how bin wormed his way into dongmin’s life.

moon bin has a problem. honestly, it’s really not that big of a problem. but to seven-year-old bin, it’s an enormous problem that needs solving. this is his problem. his problem is a stunningly pretty boy that doesn’t seem to have one ounce of interest in him.

now, one thing that must be understood about bin is that he is very used to being loved. that makes him sound a little spoiled, but the thing about bin is that he is used to receiving a lot of love, but he also has unlimited stores of love to share. honestly, he’s a very sweet child who is a tad overenthusiastic at times and is prone to crying if something is too upsetting, but he’s usually a very cheerful (perhaps overly so) and extroverted child.

but cha dongmin. cha dongmin doesn’t like moon bin, and it makes him sad.

it’s not that bin hasn’t been trying almost his entire childhood to try and get dongmin’s attention. he has been, and he has no issues with hakyeon, dongmin’s older brother, or taekwoon, hakyeon’s best friend. even his own sister is more than willing to hold him and play with him, and they’re all so old! but dongmin is supposed to be just a year older than him, and it makes him sad.

every time bin tries to talk to dongmin, dongmin just stares at him and then hides behind his mommy. bin tries not to let it show how much it hurts, instead pouting and running off to find hakyeon, but he doesn’t know what’s wrong with him that dongmin doesn’t like him this much. they’ve never even talked and dongmin already hates him!

bin has been trying to talk to dongmin for forever! admittedly, the young boy doesn’t have a wonderful grasp on the length of time, but a year has passed since they first met and to the seven-year-old, it feels like an eternity.

one more time, he decides. he has to try one more time.

(he’s said that many times but conveniently, he always forgets.)

--

they’re at a party, of sorts. bin doesn’t really know what’s going on but his mom has told him that he has to dress up, be polite, and stay for a little bit before he can go play or sleep. so obediently, like the good, big boy he is, he’s all dressed up in his small black suit, his eyes bright and his soft black hair prettily styled. he holds onto his mommy’s hand tightly and lets her do the introductions she wants before his sister takes his hand and leads him away, letting him run free if he wants.

and he wants to! he loves exploring! these old houses have so many things to look at, and he’s adventurous by nature. but he needs a partner in crime -- who should he choose? taekwoon hyung won’t come on adventures with him, he always likes food too much… nuna has to so-she-all-lize with other big people, especially now that she’s never home anymore. hakyeon hyung is also doing the same thing as nuna (but he’s small, why is he doing it?), so that only leaves one option!

cha dongmin!

but dongmin doesn’t like him, and the thought turns his bright smile into a little frown. why doesn’t dongmin like him? bin thinks he’s not that bad -- sometimes he can be annoying but he thinks that he’s okay, right? mommy always says that binnie is the sweetest baby and he loves hearing that from her. it makes him feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

well, he’s going to try again, he decides, and it’s with purpose in his eyes that he searches the room for any sign of the pretty boy hiding behind his mommy. when he spots the older boy, he hurries over, his eyes bright as he bounces on his feet in front of the other boy, who is already staring at him blankly.

“hi!! will you come play with me, pretty please~?” he asks nicely. mommy always says that he has to ask things nicely if he wants someone to do something for him, and he’s making sure he does everything right! surely dongmin doesn’t hate him that much, right?

but alas, dongmin just stares at him silently, his glass of juice in his hands and he shrinks behind his mommy’s dress, barely peeking out. slowly, bin sees the other’s hand lift and point at himself, and bin nods excitedly in response. maybe today dongmin will say yes! maybe today dongmin doesn’t hate him!

in response to the nod, though, dongmin shakes his head slowly, and bin’s face falls. “please?” he whines a little bit. he’s tired of having dongmin say no. dongmin only shakes his head again and bin’s shoulder slump, a pout on his lips and he kicks at the ground before he mumbles, “okay…”

as he walks away from dongmin, his shoulders slumped and his bottom lip trembling, he thinks that he didn’t know how much no could hurt. he guesses dongmin really, really doesn’t like him, but he doesn’t know why. he doesn’t know what he did wrong and how to fix it, and to his manly horror, he feels the tears starting to well up. he wipes at his eyes furiously, not wanting to cry, and he sniffles, not watching where he’s going until he bumps into someone a little taller than him.

hakyeon steadies him, a look of concern in his eyes as he glances down at the small seven-year-old. “binnie?” he asks, and that’s all it takes for bin’s lip to tremble and the first tears to slip from his eyes. sensing an explosion impending, hakyeon glances around before he hurries bin out of the main ballroom, the younger boy trying very hard not to cry but the tears are falling and hakyeon knows that bin will explode soon.

sure enough, once they’re in the hallway, the dam breaks and bin is bawling, obviously trying hard to stay quiet but in his seven-year-old mind, he can’t comprehend why dongmin hates him so much after a whole year of trying. he sobs in hakyeon’s arms, the ten year old trying very hard to calm bin down. but bin can’t seem to stop, bawling and hiccupping his frustration through his tears.

“wh-why....” he hiccups, his usually lively eyes colored with sorrow, a pout on his usually happy face and he looks so upset. “he h-hates m-me,” he sobs as he burrows into hakyeon’s arms, “why m’i so b-bad…” his words slur together as he sobs and hakyeon winces, patting the younger’s back gently and he’s grateful when hyuna comes out with a look of concern on her face.

she takes over comforting her baby brother, who promptly crawls into her arms with little care for the fact that she’s dressed up, the child crying over the devastating feeling of being “hated” for no reason whatsoever.

hakyeon, in the meantime, slips back through the doors to kidnap his brother. stupid, shy fool who likes to avoid social situations. he can put up with it just fine but the fact that his brother’s shyness has gotten to this point where a child thinks he’s hated because of dongmin’s rejection means that it’s time to start breaking his brother out of that shell.

“may i take dongmin with me, mother?” he asks politely, and their mother shoos her youngest child to go with his brother, hakyeon taking dongmin’s hand and leading him away with little ceremony.

“hyung…?” dongmin’s shy, soft voice comes from behind him, uncertain. “where are you taking me…?”

“you’re going to fix a problem you’ve created, dongminnie.” he says sternly and he can feel his brother’s bewilderment behind him, but he doesn’t stop to explain. dongmin isn’t stupid, so he thinks his brother will understand when he sees the crying child. he pushes through the doors, relieved to see that bin has stopped crying for the most part, his face rather splotchy, sniffling sadly in his sister’s arms. the little boy looks up and sees dongmin, and hakyeon can literally see the uncertainty flash over his face.

bewildered, dongmin just stands there, and he whispers, “what does this have to do with me…?” his voice is unsure and bin sniffles, blinking at dongmin with teary, chocolate eyes. dongmin just stares back, genuinely unsure as to what he’s doing there and the blankness of his stare makes him sniffle again, hiccuping before the tears start pouring again, hiding his face in his sister’s shoulder.

“he’s sure you hate him because you never talk to him, dongminnie.” hakyeon points out to his brother in exasperation. apparently his faith had been misplaced. “merlin, just go over and pat him and reassure him you don’t hate him and you’re just shy!” dongmin looks rather flabbergasted, his expression stunned and he stutters softly.

“b-but… i…” he starts, and hakyeon huffs.

“no buts unless you really do hate him,” he insists and he pushes his brother forward. dongmin flounders but finds himself with no choice — he doesn’t actually hate the younger boy, just finds him somewhat overwhelming. moon bin is admittedly an adorable child, but also too excited, loud, and altogether too social for dongmin to handle. but none of it is anything dongmin could hate the younger for, so he finds this whole situation rather baffling. so he finds himself stumbling forward, a hand coming out hesitantly to pat bin’s soft hair.

bin doesn’t seem to realize who it is until his sister tells him to look up and he turns tearful eyes on the other, sniffling as dongmin awkwardly pats his head. the little boy looks utterly miserable as he sniffles, staring up at the older boy who’s been rejecting him for the past year and his voice is very small as he whispers, “you don’t… hate me…?”

dongmin sighs a little bit and he feels incredibly awkward, put on the spot, but he shakes his head in response, just continuing his very awkward patting of the younger’s head, having a distinct feeling that his brother might stab him if he doesn’t. unexpectedly, bin hurled himself at dongmin, hiccups escaping him as he wails in distress. “i th-thought you h-hated me—“ dongmin, absolutely stunned, has no idea what to do with his arms full of moon bin. awkwardly, so awkwardly, he continues to pat bin’s head, all while calculating how long it will take him to escape back to the safety of his mother.

ah, the definition of cha dongmin. incredibly intelligent but socially inept.

his planning is for naught, as both hakyeon and hyuna retreat from the now sniffling boy, bin finally seeming to calm down now that the turmoil in his heart has been eased. he pouts up at the older boy, having forced him down to the ground and situated himself primarily in the other’s lap. “why didn’t you e-ever talk to me…?” he demands plaintively and dongmin doesn’t really have an answer for the younger, patting his head gently, fingers sinking into soft black hair. it’s so comforting that bin settles down, his head slowly drooping until it rests against dongmin’s shoulder.

“i’m shy,” he finally says softly and bin blinks up at dongmin in confusion, not having expected an answer, having already half forgotten that he had asked a question. his lips part slightly and he blinks at the other curiously, tears starting to dry on his face, firmly situated in the other’s lap and it doesn’t occur to him that he’s too big to be doing this to dongmin, who’s the same size as him.

“like… talking to other people is scary?” bin asks and his chocolate eyes are round, and dongmin inclines his head in the faintest of nods.

exhibit a: dongmin’s legs are very numb and he almost wants to cry because he knows the pins and needles will be horrible later, but he’s too shy to say anything to bin, who he doesn’t get at all.

“ohh…” bin mumbles and he clearly seems to be trying to understand that, clearly not having a problem with the talking to other people aspect. perhaps he would have reached a conclusion if his mother hadn’t appeared at that moment, gasping slightly.

“moon bin!” she exclaims, and bin’s head whips around to stare at his mommy.

“mommy!” he exclaims and he’s still clinging onto dongmin, and his mommy bustles over to scoop her son into her arms, wiping at his tear streaked face with a wet wipe, having been told by her daughter that her youngest was crying outside.

“you can’t do that to dongmin, binnie, you’re too big for him! his legs must hurt now,” she scolds gently and bin’s mouth drops open into a little ‘o’ shape, clearly having not even thought of that. sure enough, dongmin looks to be in pain, rubbing at his legs gently, slowly getting to his feet and swaying a little bit as feeling comes back in gentle prickles that sting to stand on. he pushes gently at his mommy’s arms so she can put him down and he totters over to the older boy.  

“m’sorry, hyungie, are you okay?” his voice is very, very sincere and he looks very apologetic, latching onto dongmin’s sleeve. bin knows they’re in the same year but he also knows that dongmin is born a year before him. it’s better to be polite, he thinks, but dongmin ssi sounds too formal, so hyungie it is!

dongmin doesn’t respond right away, but he nods slowly after a while when he thinks he’s actually okay. “i’m not your hyung, you know…” he tells the younger boy, and bin tilts his head in response.

“minnie?” he tries and dongmin stares blankly for a moment.

“minnie…?” he repeats slowly, and bin nods very firmly in response. “please call me dongmin…” he sighs and he feels like he’s used up all of his social quota for the day.

“but dongmin is so long…” he pouts in response and dongmin just looks very, very done with the younger boy.

“they’re all the same length,” he points out with a sigh, and bin pouts more, if that’s even possible.

“minnie sounds cute…” bin tries to argue, and dongmin’s eyebrows furrow.

“i’m not cute.”

“uh huh!”

“no.”

“you are cute!!” bin insists with all the conviction of a child, and dongmin sighs again.

“please just call me dongmin,” he says and bin’s shoulder’s slump, and fearful of making the little boy sad and crying once again, he tacks on, “for now.” to his relief, bin perks up at the ending.

“okay!” he agrees happily. “come play with me, dongmin!” dongmin sighs a little bit to himself, his expression reluctant.

“i need to go back to my mom…” he mumbles and bin looks pouty at that again.

“but yeonnie hyung said i can have you,” he protests even as his mother leads them both back into the ballroom.

“he said what…?” dongmin replies and his face is very blank, inwardly questioning his brother’s sanity. the expression on his face must startle bin, because the younger boy falters a little bit.

“uh… yeonnie hyung said you didn’t have to do anything so i could play with you! please? pleaseeeee…” he blinks at the other with pleading eyes, “you’re my only friend here!”

“... friend?” he repeats in disbelief and he finds himself on the end of a pout again for the -- he’s lost track of how many -- nth time that night.

“please?” he says hopefully and dongmin glances around, his expression uncertain.

“i’m busy… drinking my juice…” he mumbles as he gets another glass of juice. bin, undeterred, grabs his own glass of juice. “anyways, you’re too loud…”

“i can be quiet!” he promises immediately and he’s holding onto his glass of juice, blinking at the other hopefully.

“but you look like you want to be loud…” dongmin points out, sipping from his glass. bin shakes his head earnestly in response.

“no no no! i can be quiet. i can be quiet if quiet is good,” he promises and he presses his lips together in an effort to remain silent, but dongmin knows. dongmin already knows that moon bin is incapable of being quiet.

“just go run around… i’ll sit here… with my juice.” he mumbles in response and bin looks hesitant.

“... can i come back? can i sit with you later?” he asks and his eyes are full of hope, and dongmin just sighs.

“... okay.” he agrees slowly. he hopes he doesn’t regret this, but he already knows he will as he watches bin scamper off again.

… merlin, he’s tired. moon bin is exhausting.

--

when bin goes back to look for dongmin, he doesn’t see the other boy anywhere, and his lips curl down in a pout. he sees hakyeon, though, and promptly goes scampering over to see if the older boy knows where dongmin is. sadly, it’s a negative, so he searches out the other’s parents to ask, big brown eyes blinking shyly, and the other’s mother tells him to check the washroom.

obediently, he runs over to the washroom, debating if he should go in when the door opens and out steps dongmin. “dongmin!” bin exclaims happily, and he jumps when dongmin startles, the slightly older boy clutching at his chest.

“wh-why… are you here?” he asks and he looks like he’s had the scare of his life. bin blinks at him in earnest sincerity.

“your mommy said you were here and to look for you here,” he says happily and he latches onto the other’s hand, bouncing along and dongmin looks somewhat disturbed and baffled by the fact that he now has a child connected to his hand.

“... okay… but why did you ask my mom…?” he tries, and bin pouts a little.

“you said you would be there and you weren’t there!” he says like the answer is obvious, and to be fair, it kind of is. dongmin makes a noise of acknowledgement and bin falls silent as they re-enter the ballroom. dongmin picks up another glass of juice (it’s probably his fifth one that night) and a little vegetable plate. bin follows his lead, picking up a glass of juice, but he wrinkles his nose at the veggies. no thank you, veggies are gross. dongmin clambers up onto a bench, and bin puts his glass down so he can do the same.

bin’s legs are too short to reach the ground, and he giggles as he swings them, sitting there, relatively quiet compared to earlier. he drinks his juice much more quickly than dongmin does, glancing over at the older boy curiously as dongmin eats his vegetables. after a while, when the glass is set to the side, he finds himself dozing off every few moments, his head lolling to the side and jerking up right before he hits dongmin’s shoulder.

“i’m not sleepy,” he says with a yawn.

“i watched you run around for an hour, i believe you,” dongmin responds without even looking over at him. bin blinks at the other boy with heavy eyes, watching him occasionally eat a vegetable and sip his juice.

“that sounds… mm… i’m… really not tired,” he mumbles as his head lolls to the side, resting on the other’s shoulder momentarily, jerking up again. dongmin glances at him in response.

“mm, of course not.” dongmin agrees, his expression blank as he stares out at the ballroom.

“m’... just… going to close my eyes… until you’re done eating…” he mumbles and his words are starting to slur together, his head lolling and his eyes slipping shut more and more often, still trying to keep his eyes open every time they close.

“mhmm…” dongmin just makes a noise of agreement.

“not…” his head rests on dongmin’s shoulder, little hand holding onto the other’s sleeve and he’s definitely asleep. dongmin sighs to himself. so much for not tired. he really should have expected this. quietly, he finishes his juice, sitting there with a weight on his shoulder and warmth against his side.

now, he really has no idea what to do.

somehow, he gets the feeling that’s how the rest of his life will be with moon bin involved.

[wistfulpetals]

heroics steve/natasha, rogers squad || why natasha has to leave.

he remembers everything more clearly than she does. he remembers why their mother left them and why they were left with a father who seemed so broken inside despite the strong front he put up for his two children, suddenly wholly dependent on him. he remembers seeing his father dial the phone over and over again, only to hang up in frustration. he remembers seeing his father cry. but most of all, he remembers the tears in her eyes when she’d left them, and that’s why he can never hate his mother.

--

he doesn’t remember how it started. he doesn’t remember what exactly drew him from his bed, but he knows that he had heard a sound that has roused him. he crawls out of bed to go and wake his sister, both of them developed beyond their years intellectually and physically because of the serum, and he shakes her awake with a hand over her mouth.

“shhh,” he shushes her, his bright blue eyes wide in an anxious face and he helps her out of her bed, the low height making it easy for them to navigate around without too much worry, only the guard rails to prevent her from falling to avoid. “there’s someone here,” he whispers into his sister’s ear and he hoists her up into his arms, carrying her a little awkwardly and he’s not that much bigger than her despite being bigger than most children his age. he’s tall and he’s strong, but carrying her like that is hard, and he puts her down again to make her clamber onto his back. he sneaks out of their room and into the hallway, knowing the house like the back of his hand.

there’s something wrong. he can hear voices he doesn’t recognize, the low rattling of things being moved around, and he’s terrified. somehow he knows they’re here for them -- mom and dad are out on a mission right now, and auntie pepper had dropped them back at the house just before bedtime so he could get lizzie ready for bed. their parents were supposed to be back sometime the next day, which is why they were sleeping at home (he likes home better anyways).

he sneaks into a different room, his eyes wide and he swallows as he tries to formulate a plan. he knows he needs to get them out of the house and call uncle tony or auntie pepper. he’s only five but there’s so much responsibility on him.

“ollie,” his sister whimpers from his back, very very soft in his ear, “scary…” he swallows and he nods slightly, his blond hair flopping slightly.

“shh…” he whispers in return, “everything’s gonna be okay.” he hears voices pass and he goes completely silent, praying that the voices will keep going so that he can slip out of the room and then the house and to safety. they pass by where they’re hiding, and with his blue eyes wide and a reminder to his sister to be quiet, he sneaks out of the room and down the hallway a bit more. his eyes are frightened as he peeks his head over the top of the stairs slightly and he swallows, seeing the people gathered at the base, and he knows there’s no way they’re getting out that way. they’re on the second floor and while he thinks he could probably jump from the second floor, there’s no way that lizzie can. he ducks into the next room -- their playroom, the room closest to the stairs, and he closes the door quietly behind him and locking it, hearing the gentle snick that indicates his success.

he puts his sister down in the corner of their playroom, her back to the corner so that no one can sneak up on her, and his head whips around frantically as he looks for something he can use as a weapon in their playroom. there’s a baseball bat there and it’s a bit too big for him, closer to the bat that a ten-year-old would carry, instead of one for a five-year-old, but he hefts it with very little problem, standing protectively in front of his little sister. he’s terrified out of his mind.

be brave, malysh, his mother’s voice echoes in his head and he swallows, lifting the bat a bit more as he hears the banging on the door. it doesn’t take long for the door to be kicked down, splintering at the hinges and vincent lifts the bat higher, charging at the intruder who steps through the broken fragments of their playroom door, and he swings the bat with all his might, slamming it into the knee of the intruder who’d just walked in. for a five-year-old, he has a surprising amount of strength -- courtesy of the serum that flows through his veins, and the intruder grunts in pain but it’s not enough to make him fall.

the man’s arm shoots out, a hand closing around a delicate throat and he makes a strangled noise, the bat still clutched in his hand as he tries to free himself by lashing out with the bat wildly, landing a few good hits, but nothing strong enough to do any kind of damage. he’s choking as the hand tightens around his throat, and the bat slips from his fingers, clattering on the ground.

“ollie!” his sister’s shrill voice pierces through the air. his mind is going a little fuzzy and he struggles weakly, fighting spirit renewed but his body weakening as he digs his nails into the man’s hand, his little face pale as he struggles to breathe. he digs his fingers in harder and he viciously tears at the man’s hands with all the strength he still has left in his body. red is left in the wake of his fingers and the man howls in pain, cursing, “you fucking brat --” before he throws the child bodily aside.

vincent feels himself flying, he feels himself hit the wall, and then he doesn’t feel anything anymore, his sister’s distressed cry echoing in his ears before everything goes dark.

--

“OLLIE!” skylar screams as her brother goes flying, the crack as he hits the wall painfully loudly, screaming wordlessly as she scrambles to her feet, unsteady legs barely supporting her as she tries to run towards her brother. she has no eyes for anything else, but in the back of her panicked mind, she knows that she shouldn’t be able to make it. there’s a sizzling sound and she doesn’t turn her head to figure out what it is, throwing herself bodily in front of her fallen brother and she’s determined to protect him, even if she doesn’t understand what it means.

she could lose everything, but she either doesn’t know, or doesn’t care.

--

she tazes the man before he can land a hand on her precious daughter, stepping on his body carelessly with her heels as she rushes towards her children, and her heart sinks when she sees the little figure skylar has hurled herself over, still and unmoving, a smear of blood on the wall and dark red matting light blond hair.

“myshka,” she gasps, gathering her daughter into her arms and she reaches out to touch her son’s cheek, the little boy unmoving, “malysh,” and she feels her partner take their daughter from her arms, knowing his aura better than anyone else. she lifts their son into her arms, cradling the little boy.

no one could ever say that natasha romanoff didn’t have feelings. she does love her family, or as much as the black widow can love.

she turns to show her partner their son, still and unmoving, and she looks up to see the familiar face, set in a mask of worry, their two-year-old daughter nestled safely in his arms with wide, scared eyes. the terror is written so clearly into the little girl’s eyes, but stubborn and brave is their daughter, and natasha knows that skylar elizabeth rogers won’t cry. she never has cried easily.

“come on, ollie, wake up,” she hears her partner’s worried voice, his warm presence next to her chilling some of the cold dread that’s spreading from her heart. blue eyes, so like his father’s, flutter open slowly and she almost chokes with relief, although it doesn’t show on her face.

“m… mama…? dad…? l… lizzie,” he whimpers and his blue eyes are hazy as he blinks up at the people holding him dizzily. “m… m’head… hurts…” he manages before he shudders, curling up weakly in his mother’s arms, his head lolling to the side and his body convulses weakly as he vomits onto the ground. he’s definitely injured, but she knows that he’s alive -- that he’ll be okay, thanks to the serum that her partner had passed onto their children.

“shh, malysh,” she soothes gently, smoothing back his light blond hair, the tears welling up slightly in her eyes as she makes her decision in that moment. she can’t endanger her family anymore, even if it means leaving behind everything and everyone she loves.

“i have to go,” she tells her partner, her green eyes glassy. he stares up at her, their daughter in his arms, and she carefully transfers their injured son into his arms too.

“nat--” he starts, and her red hair brushes his arm as she leans down to press a kiss to skylar’s head, then another to vincent’s, and finally, he feels her lips against his. he kisses her back with the same desperation she belies in the all-too-brief kiss, his heart breaking in his chest and he already knows what she means. “nat, please, don’t --” he pleads when she pulls away, and her lips curve up in a sad smile.

“mama…” vincent’s weak, barely-there voice whimpers and she stares down at the three people she loves the most in her life that she has to leave behind.

“i’m sorry,” she whispers, “i’m sorry, malysh… myshka… steve, i’m sorry. i have to go. i can’t do this anymore.” steve meets her eyes, and she knows he understands. it’s not the first time that the avengers have had to make sacrifices, and more than anyone else, she knows that he’ll understand exactly what it’s like to give up something he loves for the greater good.

“nat, please --” he hesitates and he closes his eyes, “come back when you can,” he begs her and she nods slightly, his eyes filling with tears. “i love you.”

“they’re coming,” she says softly in response. “i love you. all of you.”

and that’s all he has left of her as she darts out of the room.

they’re coming for her, and she won’t let them use her family against her again.

[wingjyun]

“i love you because you exist. and oh my god, you do it so well.” happy birthday 자기! i love you ~ (gross)

note: kinda like a harry potter au twist on pink post-its?????? like, a follow up. but with the au. yah. nyehehe pls don’t kill me (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

the library was a fantastic place. with it’s large windows that overlooked various areas of the school grounds, the lake, even the forbidden forest could be seen on good days from a good vantage point. there were many places to hide out and read a good book in, or to get into mischief like some of the younger kids did.

but he, he had a special reason as to why he loved the library so much.

it was where he had first confessed. using the pink post it notes he had gotten from mark – why mark had had that sort of muggle stationary he had no clue – he had watched mei through his peripheral for years.

they had, of course, been in the same house since they started.had all their classes together, even had the same group of friends yet he had never realized his feelings until they came screaming at him like the scarlet train they rode together towards the school. jinyoung had been too shy to admit to anything at first, annoying the hell out of all his friends – especially jaebum. considering he liked his younger sister, it probably wasn’t a good thing to keep going on and on about a mild crush.

hey! just dropping by to tell you you’re super cute and i hope you have a good day! the first note had read, and he had watched as she read it, blushed – and damn, she was so beautiful – and promptly blamed it on jess. 

those were fond memories. 

– 

your hair looks nice today! is the note he had left on her potions textbook the day he had decided to finally start acting on his feelings, nearing the end of their fifth year together.. they had always been friends – being in the same house since first year, and being in the same classes for the majority of those five years sort of did that to people, obviously. 

he starts off small, slinging an arm casually around her shoulders as they walk out of the classroom and he really hopes she doesn’t hear his rapidly beating heart. he keeps it natural, or, as natural as he possibly could with his arm around the girl he likes, chattering away about how excited he is for lunch and how he really hopes there’s going to be pumpkin soup and how he had lost a couple points on the last essay they had done for history of magic. mei keeps up with the conversation easily, and his grin just stays on his face, the edges of his eyes crinkling up slightly as they made their way to the great hall for lunch. 

to his surprise, two things happen. firstly, there is indeed pumpkin soup on the table in front of them. secondly, she hadn’t shrugged his arm off. 

score.

– 

good luck on your o.w.l. today! i know you’ll do well! he had barely managed to get that note on her book before she returned to her seat across from him in the library, panicking for a moment that they might get caught but mei didn’t seem to notice anything amiss. 

that was good, he thinks, before she flashes him a smile and promptly stares at the note left on her textbook. there’s a handful of their friend group there – jess, hongbin, wonshik (surprisingly), seukhye, bomi, hyerim, even taekwoon and hakyeon – so it’s not obvious who it could’ve been. 

or … hopefully not. 

they’re all still just chattering quietly, others studying and he keeps his eyes on his books, the stack of post-its having been shoved unceremoniously into his pocket as he tried to appear as calm and cool and collected as possible – a feat, considering he was definitely none of those at the moment. 

the next two minutes are the most tense minutes of his entire life, and he glances up to not seem like he was avoiding eye contact the entire time. he sees that everyone is back to studying and the little post-it note is nowhere to be seen. 

he’s honestly not sure if this is a good thing or not, but youngjae had told him the other day that mei kept a stack of pink “sticky notes,” as the younger had worded it, with writing on them tucked into the front pocket of one of her notebooks. his heart was soaring.

–

i like your shirt! is the next step he remembers taking, having left a note almost every day if he could. mostly in class as it would be less obvious as to who could be the person leaving said notes. it was only a few months later, but mei seemed to be taking the extra touchiness rather light-heartedly and he felt like he was ready.

this day was important. jinyoung was going to work up the nerve to say something nice to her during their group outing to hogsmeade. being ravenclaws, of course, the day had started with a full out studying session as they invaded the slytherin common room. everyone had ended up napping for a few hours and he really thinks his relationship with mei is going smoothly. she had ended up leaning her head on his shoulder and drifting off for a while before they had all been woken up to head out. 

they had had to go back to ravenclaw to change – why hadn’t they done that in the first place before heading down? – all of them gathering in the entrance hall before heading out. they always group together in houses before splitting off into friend groups and today is no different and jinyoung glances at mei, turning away from youngjae to smile at his crush. 

“i really like your shirt,” he comments casually, and her eyes light up as she explains her best friend had gotten it for her. hearing her name, jess pops over as well and he lets the moment slide, eyes crinkling up in the corners that he had been able to pay off that compliment naturally. 

– 

i really like your smile! you should smile more ~ this note is important to him because it’s the day he gets caught. jess had put it into his mind earlier than maybe he should pretend to get caught and maybe, just maybe ask her out as well. or something like that. 

jinyoung ends up stalling for so long that he’s not even trying to get caught – yet he does. he had dawdled for so long that mei came back to her desk right when he was withdrawing his hand from sticking the note onto her textbook and she confronts him right away. 

“you’re the one leaving me notes?” 

“wh-what! – no why would i – i mean, i –” he ends up stuttering so much that it’s obvious that it definitely was him that had been leaving the notes and after a few moments of awkwardly staring at each other, he just blurts out – “ireallylikeyouwillyougooutwithme?” 

(miraculously, she says yes.)

–

he hums as he heads down to the common room, ravenclaw scarf tugged round his neck as he waits for his girlfriend. even when he stalls he somehow makes it down first and eventually he stopped trying to arrive second – park jinyoung, the early bird. he should get that written on a business card or something. 

the wait for his girlfriend is shorter than he had expected and she appears at the bottom of the staircase with a smile, and he grins, reaching to take her hand and their fingers link automatically. his eyes crinkle up at the corners as she smiles up at him, and he leans down to press his lips against her forehead, “hey.” 

“hi!” 

mei grins up at her boyfriend who grins back as they head out of the sapphire-decked common room and down the stairs to the entrance hall. 

he tightens his fingers around hers as they walk, waving at familiar faces and grinning to himself all the while as they head out of the castle and down the snowy path to hogsmeade and despite the cold wind biting at his fingers and his nose, the cute, crinkly smile that he’s known for doesn’t drop off his face.

she seems to notice after a few moments — once she’s glanced up and lifted her face out of the depths of her blue and bronze scarf. 

“why are you so happy?” 

jinyoung can’t answer right away, having to think about it and he shrugs as they reach the three broomsticks and shuffle inside to thaw their extremities, wiggling his toes inside his shoes and settling down into the booth they had claimed as their own for the next hour or so.  they order their food, just a sampling of things to share between them; a plate of calamari and a cheesy dip that his girlfriend claims is delicious. 

they enjoy their food quietly, spending some nice alone time in silence after the hectic past weeks leading up to christmas with all the last minute papers they needed to write and helping their friends with their homework as well. they had only seen each other in a strictly scholarly setting — though a handful of their friends didn’t exactly follow that, and of course he had slipped in a kiss or too, and squeezing mei’s hand under the table sometimes but it had been hard to get together to just relax until after classes had let out. and then came the stress of buying gifts. 

but now that everything was done and over with, he finally had time to spend with her and jinyoung was overjoyed. 

it wasn’t so much the fact that they were on a date — though that was definitely the main reason — but more so the fact that they weren’t stressed while on their date. and that they were alone. 

“because of you,” he answers genuinely after they’ve finished eating, his eyes crinkled up in one of his signature smiles as he holds her hand from across the table, their fingers interlaced and he squeezes gently in full, uninhibited affection for the other ravenclaw. 

she raises an eyebrow at him, amused and incredulous at the same time. most days, she would accept it and move on but she decides to tease him a bit today for fun, considering it was their first outing in a long while. “but i didn’t even do anything!” 

there’s a pause as he raises his head from their linked fingers, as if considering what she was saying and the corner of his mouth twitches in amusement. 

“anyone can make me happy by doing something special,” jinyoung says, playing with her fingers, his cheeks bunching up in her favorite way. “but only someone special can make me happy but doing absolutely nothing at all. 

“you make me happy in a way that no one else can.”

[wistfulpetals]

snow days mark/jessica || snowy days lead to smiles, at least in his opinion.

happy birthday, 자기야!

when he’d originally dreamed of his future, he hadn’t thought it would be with her. honestly, he hadn’t had an inkling for the longest time, who the face that was beside him in his dreams and imagination. for a short time, he’d thought it might be the face of one of his best friends’ sisters. perhaps mei, or seukhye. he’d dated mei briefly, and he’d thought it was good -- but only for a while, both of them realizing that they were meant to be just friends, and the warm, romantic feelings they’d harbored were familial affection. him, for a sister who had been hurt by her first relationship, and her, seeking for stability and comfort. 

but never once had she crossed his mind. not at first, because he’d only ever noticed her out of his peripheral vision. firstly, he’d known her as jaebum’s girlfriend, then mei’s best friend. then, as sehun’s girlfriend. she’d also had a fling with jackson sometime in between, but he didn’t really think about little things like that. she’d never been more to him than just a person who flitted between relationships, flitted in and out of hanging out with their friend group, but was very definitely part of their circle. he’d just never really thought her of anything other than just there. 

but at some point she’d started to be something to him. it had started with little flickering glances -- this all while she was still with sehun. he’d felt like shit over it; that was his best friend’s girlfriend he kept looking at, and he told himself that it wasn’t okay. but it was hard because all too often, mei brought her along to their little hangouts. it was rare for any of them to miss a meeting, but they certainly grouped off into their own little groups within them. jinyoung and mei were rarely apart now, and youngjae often tagged along with them; the ravenclaw house. jaebum and jackson often stayed together; gryffindors. kunpimook and yugyeom; the youngest and the hufflepuffs. that often left him and jess together; this he could reason off as the slytherins. but the truth was that during these little house segregations, unintentional as they were, had him getting to know the seemingly intimidating slytherin girl. 

( she wasn’t. at all. )

he realized this on a day when mei had skipped down to the slytherin dorm, demanding to be let in ( he didn’t know why she demanded this when he knew that she had the password -- jess had certainly given it to her. he supposed it was just to bother him, like an annoying sister ). with a groan, he rubbed at his eyes, yawning a bit as he texted her back grumpily, stumbling down to the common room to let her in, making a big deal of it despite the fact that he’d already been about to get up. about half an hour later, he saw a certain grumpy and barely awake-looking blonde slytherin girl with something mint colored in her arms, curled up on the end of a couch with a blanket draped over her lap, a distinctly angry look on her face, though it was softened by the look of extreme sleepiness ( and the bunny that seemed to be cuddling into her ). there was a space between her and the two on the other end of the couch, jinyoung offering him a small smile and a little wave, trying not to disturb the dozing girl on his shoulder. it seemed to be a consensus that it was far too early for them to be awake -- hence the sleepy looking gryffindors who waved at him lazily, and the three youngest boys, piled on top of each other, a whimpering youngjae on the bottom. quietly, he seated himself in the empty space on the couch, his expression awkward and amused. 

“hey,” he mumbled in her direction, and the only thing he got in response was a grumbled greeting, her eyes unfocused, not looking at him at all. it wasn’t exactly surprising, but the slight drawing of her legs up so that there was just enough room for him to sit down. silently, he did so, glancing at the mint bunny cuddled up in her arms that was occasionally receiving sleepy kisses, and, awkward as usual, he just sat there, sneaking glances at the blonde girl he’d found occupying his thoughts more and more. 

( she seemed so open with the bunny in her arms, and the smile that he’d caught later when she thought no one was looking -- he wanted to see that more. )

the next time he saw her, she looked dismayed. perhaps that wasn’t a strong enough word -- but she was sitting in the room that their group frequented, and she looked like she’d been crying. his entrance was quiet, but not silent, and at first, she ignored his existence altogether, as though hoping if she didn’t acknowledge him, he’d go away. he, of course, did nothing of the sort, instead gingerly tiptoeing across to her, sitting down next to her. “are you okay?” his voice was soft, and although the question was probably the worst thing he could have asked, it still somehow didn’t sound condescending with the obvious tone of concern he had behind it. 

“yes,” she snapped angrily without turning to look at him, “i’m fucking fine, now just leave me alone --” her voice broke off and instead of continuing on, she shut up, burying her face in her arms. wait, was that a mint bunny poking out of her arms? it seemed like she carried the stuffed animal around everywhere she went; and yet he’d never seen it. perhaps she carried it around in her bag?

”um... what’s its name?” he gestured awkwardly at the bunny instead of accepting her insistence that she was fine, or merlin forbid, accuse her of lying. the truth was, he already knew why she was crying. or why she had been crying, rather. sehun hadn’t exactly been happy, coming back to the dorm. he knew why they were breaking up, too. there was very little sehun, mark being one of his best friends, hid from him, especially given mark’s gentle demeanor and the calmness he seemed to always have. while they both still clearly harbored fondness for each other, the love was gone. but even so, the severance of a year long relationship must have been a great shock... so here he was, trying to distract her. 

( of course, his own selfish feelings certainly played a part. )

two months passed and he found himself tumbling deeper and deeper. she seemed to soften up to him after a bit, and after a while, although she wouldn’t greet him immediately, he’d know that she had seen him because the little mint bunny would peek its head out and wave shyly at him. she did all this without even really glancing at him, and he couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face, every time. 

he asked her out on a snowy january morning when she’d been complaining about how the snow was freezing her feet and the cold was chilling her bones. slytherin scarf wrapped around her mouth and neck, a beanie tugged over short blonde hair, nose red from the cold -- it wasn’t the most beautiful she’d ever looked. merlin, he definitely didn’t look his best either, pink-tinted blond hair wind-ruffled and messy, cheeks flushed from cold and laughter, and the look of surprise on her face was worth everything he hadn’t planned. he took her hands and she blushed -- she’d always blame it on the cold later but he knew the truth -- but didn’t throw him off, and he took that as a victory, tugging her into the three broomsticks for some much needed warmth. 

( he was on cloud nine, the coolness of her smaller hand enclosed in his. merlin, but he was in deep. )

“minty,” he cooed to the mint bunny that seemed to be staring expectantly up at him, his lips curving up in amusement as he tickled the tummy that had a few lines on it. his girlfriend seemed amused, making the bunny cover its tummy with a squeak of protest. he had to say that despite how she put up such a tough facade, it was funny how much of a childish personality she expressed through her bunny. 

he felt as though he’d been in a dream, the past few months like being in heaven, and he thanked merlin for whatever magic had been wrought to somehow make them compatible. he’d never thought of her as anything more than just someone who was there, someone who floated in and out of their friend group, and while she had always been there, she had always been inaccessible. somehow, they had worked out. sehun held no hard feelings, nor did jackson or jaebum or the countless other people she’d dated that he didn’t even care to know about. he, on the other hand, only had one past relationship to worry about, and it was clear that mei didn’t mind at all. 

leaning in, he dropped a kiss on the mint bunny’s head, lifting his head after that to press lips against his girlfriend’s, earning a glare that seemed very half-hearted. “stop being such a sap,” she grumbled, and he could only laugh, pressing her down into the pillows, peppering kisses over her face in a way that he could only ever do when they were alone. 

“you’re so gross, stop it--” she complained, swatting at his shoulder half-heartedly, but there was a smile on her face that betrayed her true intentions. 

( he loved her so much, he realized with a jolt. he wanted everything with her. )

“minty would be sad without his daddy,” he protested when she threatened to kill him, his eyes dancing with amusement and in all reality, he was just kidding. he didn’t mean it -- he’d never referred to the little mint bunny as such, nor had she ever had the stuffed animal say anything like that to him. 

to his surprise, however, instead of refuting it, she just looked grumpy, glancing away. “shut up, idiot.” her voice was a low mutter and she lifted the bunny to cover her face. 

“hi daddy! i love you!” minty chirped happily, waving excitedly. he couldn’t help the laugh as he settled back, waving at the bunny contentedly. 

“hi, minty. i love you too, you and your mommy, lots and lots.” he grinned back, his heart light with adoration and he couldn’t help but think that merlin, maybe he wasn’t the only one who wanted more. 

( his heart clenched, light with hope and fear and everything at the same time. )

he proposed to her on a snowy day, so reminiscent of the way he had asked her out, all those years ago. this time, it was planned, but even so, his tongue tripped over words and he stammered out phrases in a language he knew like the back of his own hand but suddenly felt so foreign on his tongue. 

but the feeling of her in his arms was enough to make all the worry and the stress worth it. she was trembling slightly, and whether it was from the cold or from the emotions, he wasn’t entirely sure, but he figured it didn’t really matter. she was here, she’d said yes, and he was going to get the rest of his life with her. 

( “sap,” she grumbled later when they were safely warming up in the pub and he was shivering from having soaked his pants through. )

”why always on snowy days?”

”i wanted them to make you smile.”

[wistfulpetals]

wingjyun:

pink post-its because yolo and mei’s going to kill me anyway so why not. plus she’s admitted her bias and i’m annoying like this so yA

shout out to jae ( sugarkookies ) for the prompt, you da real mvp

“do you see that girl over there?” jinyoung whispers to mark once they’ve both been sitting in the library for almost an hour. they were supposed to be studying, but he had been completely distracted the entire time. even mark was surprised, considering jinyoung was usually the one out of the two of them that was much more studious. 

“the blonde? i know her,” he points out, thinking her name was jess – or something along those lines. they shared a few classes and had joked once that their hair colors were too similar to be a coincidence. mark considers offering to introduce the two of them, though, he thinks she has a boyfriend. he’s seen her with him a lot, a guy that’s taller than him and has a friendly, dimpled smile. he opens his mouth to make his offer. “i could –” 

“– no! not the blonde. the one beside her, with glasses?” 

mark turns his attention to the girl sitting next to the blonde and he nods. she’s cute, he thinks, in a cute, nerdy sort of way with her big glasses and bangs but he, of course, is still trying to figure out whether jess was actually taken or not. for science, of course. “what about her?” 

“what do you mean what about her? she’s so cute! she’s perfect, i want to talk to her,” jinyoung whines and mark can’t help but laugh, shaking his head. his friend is always overdramatic, but this was a bit much. they had been in the library every day for the past week or so, and now he knew why the younger male had been so distracted the entire time. 

“then go talk to her?” 

“no, i’m scared.” 

mark sighs, flipping through his binder before tossing a stack of bright pink post-it notes onto his friend’s binder as he turns his attention to the shelves behind him. 

“what are these for?” 

“i dunno, do what you want with them.” 

he stands up to go look for a book, chuckling to himself. “you realize that glasses girl has literally gotten up like ten times since we got here, right? go do something with those. i don’t use the pink ones anyway,” he shoots back before he moves to the shelves, fingers raising to look for a book, running along the spines. he really hopes jinyoung does something before he decides to kill him for pining. 

– 

he doesn’t do anything that day, unable to build up the nerve to do anything despite having already written a little note on the bright pink post-it. 

but the next time he’s in the library, he chooses a different spot so as to be able to drop the little note onto whatever book she was reading – or perhaps her notebook. her blonde friend is there, but she’s on her laptop with earphones in and seemingly completely not paying attention to the world. (jinyoung thinks she must be there more for moral support than to actually help with the studying. he’s seen her take the earphones out every half hour and he thinks she’s probably timing her friend.) 

when the girl stands up, he makes sure that the blonde girl – he thinks her name is jess, if mark wasn’t wrong – isn’t looking at him before he sticks the bright pink post-it onto the open notebook, taking a quick glance at the notes, then running quickly back to the table he was residing at. 

watching from under his bangs when she comes back, jinyoung has to fight to hide his smile and he carefully covers his mouth, casual and subtle. he sees her eyes widen as she reads the note, just a quick scribble of ‘hey! just dropping by to tell you i think you’re super cute and i hope you have a good day! (:’ and he can’t help the little, internal, cheer he gives when her cheeks promptly flush and she hits her friend. he leans forward in an attempt to eavesdrop, thinking he would have to thank mark for the post-it idea eventually. 

“ow, what the fuck? you’re supposed to be studying –”

“jess – did you do this?” 

the post-it is waved in the blonde’s – jess’ – face and she scowls at her friend, snatching it to read it before she raises an incredulous eyebrow, snorting as if she couldn’t believe that she would be asked that question. 

“mei, does that look like my writing? why the fuck would i be hitting on you?” 

mei. he had seen the name ‘megan’ written on her notebook but now that he had heard her friend call her something else … he couldn’t stop thinking about it now. mei, mei, mei. there’s a smile on his face, and he pulls out the post-it notes again, careful to keep them hidden behind the book he was reading as he scribbles another note, thinking he’ll leave this one in a little bit, when mei gets up to grab another book. 

he waits a long while, she seems to have enough books right now, and he actually ends up studying a little bit before he sees movement, watching as she stands up with all her books. jess isn’t there, it seems she’s gone to the washroom or something, maybe to grab a drink, and he pounces on this opportunity. 

‘you have a really nice smile!’ this note reads and he shifts to stand at a bookshelf as he waits for her return, humming as he flicks through a random book from his newly chosen vantage point. he’s surprised when she brushes past him to head back to the table, and his eyes widen in surprise, clutching at his chest and he turns away. never had he thought he would be in such close proximity to her – his heart is thudding crazily in his chest, peeking in her direction. 

her cheeks have lit up again, pink, and he wonders if she thinks she has some sort of secret admirer. she wasn’t wrong, if she was thinking that, and he really hopes mark doesn’t accidentally tell jess that he has a semi-crush on mei. 

– 

‘your hair looks nice today.’ 

–

‘i like your shirt!’ 

– 

‘good luck on your final today! i heard your friend say it ^^; sorry for eavesdropping!’ 

– 

‘i really like your smile! you should smile more ~’ 

–

she’s been starting to look forward to the little pink post-its that she would find on her notebook whenever she stood up to go get a new book. she’s at that point where she really wants to know who it is. jess has her suspicions, especially since she said that a friend kept asking whether she had gotten all the notes or not. 

(she has, she keeps them in a pocket in her binder.) 

it’s kind of surprising to her that she hasn’t caught whoever was doing it yet. she thinks jess might know something, considering that she has this little, knowing sort of look in her eyes whenever a new one appears. sometimes she thinks that her best friend is just messing with her – because everyone knew that that was what jess did for a living – but sometimes she isn’t so sure anymore. 

“there’s another note, by the way.” 

glancing up at her friend, she makes a sound, completely unsurprised at this point as she blinks down at the pink post-it and there’s a smile on her lips as she reads it. ‘keep powering through! finals are almost over!’ her heart warms at the kind words, glancing around the library, her eyes narrowing as her gaze lands on jess again, the blonde very obviously avoiding her gaze at this point. she’s determined to figure out who it is before finals are over, and she flips to her own section of post-it notes in her binder. they’re blue, a stark contrast to the handful of pink post-its tucked into the clear pocket of her binder. she’s narrowed it down to a handful of people in the library, all regulars, all people who she saw whenever she got a new post-it. 

there’s a boy with platinum blond hair with slanted eyes that she knows is friends with hongbin, and she doesn’t think it’s him even though he’s been there every time she’s gotten a note. and his friend that has a big nose, who’s always getting shushed by the library assistants for being too loud. it wouldn’t be him either, she thinks. there are the two boys that come in separately sometimes, a blond one – who’s hair shade is almost exactly the same as jess’ and she knows they’re friends, she thinks his name is mark – and a darker haired one with a cute, crinkly smile that she catches sight of when they’re laughing sometimes. she doesn’t think either of them would be a culprit either considering they always sat far away from them. there’s jess, but she doesn’t count. and then there’s a handful of other people who she really, really hopes aren’t the culprits – an older lady who seems to be doing a third degree, a raucous group of seven boys who seem to actually be too young to be attending the university and she swears one of them is friends with her younger brother, and some goth looking girls who terrify her and she knows jess hates them. 

she sighs, shaking her head as she crosses out the platinum blond boy and his friend, having heard their laughter while she was getting a new book that day, knowing they were sitting in their usual spot. she wasn’t getting any closer, but she couldn’t really do much investigating when she still had two exams to study for. 

–

honestly, she doesn’t know why she’s helping mark and his friend. jinyoung, she reminds herself, not that she cares. it hadn’t taken long for her to clarify that yes she had a boyfriend and yes she was very happy with him and yes he was the tall male with the dimples and his name was hongbin, thank you very much. but then she had been roped into this whole post-it note scheme thing because jinyoung had some sort of little crush on mei and he didn’t want her to know yet and, groans, she was too lazy to deal with this. 

so she promised to keep her mouth shut but also warned them that she wasn’t going to be taking any part in this. she would tell them how mei reacted maybe, though she knew they watched them all the time anyway. 

(but despite how aloof she acted, she did find the little crush a bit cute. and the post-it note idea was also cute.) 

considering that she knew that her friend definitely did enjoy reading the post-it notes, she obviously couldn’t keep that to herself. 

“when are you planning on revealing yourself?” 

jinyoung literally jumps a foot into the air when she confronts him where he’s hiding behind a bookshelf, having just planted another post-it note onto mei’s notebook. the stack he had had at the beginning of this ‘mission’ or whatever had dwindled to half its height and she stares him down, arms crossed over her chest. 

“wh-what –” 

“you do realize that she’s been spending her breaks between studying trying to figure out who’s leaving her notes right?” 

his eyes widen like he hadn’t actually expected the girl he liked to be interested – though, he had known she had kept his little notes, and that hadn’t tipped him off in the slightest – and she can’t help the tutting sound she emits after. 

“for someone who’s supposed to be smart, you sure are stupid,” her words are blunt and harsh and he flinches a bit, glancing back out at the table she had come from, noting that mei hadn’t come back yet, to see his latest note.  

“you could just, you know, pretend to get caught or something. just stop hiding because you know this semester is ending and you’e not going to see her again until the next finals season.” 

she knows it sounds like a threat even though it wasn’t meant to be one – or was it? – and she just glares at him for a moment before stepping back to the table, plopping herself down at her laptop again and putting her earphones back in.  

– 

he had never actually considered revealing himself until jess had brought it up – honestly, the thought had never crossed his mind, an option he ha never thought he should take, one that he wished he could do but wasn’t sure whether he should or not. 

glancing back at the table, his eyes widen slightly as he sees that she’s smiling at the post-it note he had just left, just a short one that read ‘hope your studying is going well!’and he lets out a short breath, not realizing he had been holding it since jess had left him, after setting such a strong proposal into his mind and he mulls it over as he loops towards the washroom to make it seem like that was where he was coming from. 

maybe he would confess, he thinks, a smile on his face as he watches mei tuck the little note into the pocket with the other ones he had left. maybe.

[wistfulpetals]

wingjyun:

“i woke to the sound of rain” – sylvia plath #taekmei warnings: super fluffy shit, lots of mentions of domestic!taekwoon and a really shitty ending l o l

the soft pitter patter of rain on the roof top is the first thing he hears when he wakes up, blinking open sleepy eyes to glance out the window, the blinds left open by accident. despite it being almost noon, according to the bright, red, digital letters of the clock on the nightstand, it was dark and stormy outside. he doesn’t do much more than close his eyes, bury his nose back into her hair and inhale deeply. rainy days were his favorite. 

- 

by the time he’s woken up again, he can tell that she’s awake in his arms as well and he makes a soft sound, something that almost resembles the mew of a sleepy, grumpy kitten and mei can’t help but laugh softly. 

“you really are a cat, hey? stretching too?“ 

he’s literally mid-stretch when he gives her a playful, withering glare and he just chuckles, shaking his head. a soft breathy undertone that always has her heart skipping a beat. or maybe a few beats. she glances at him, sleep mussed hair being slowly pulled into a ponytail above her head, too lazy to take a shower to fix the knots considering she was sure that they would end up just snuggling in bed, or cuddling on the couch or eating anyway. 

or, well, that was how their lazy days usually went. taekwoon just smiles a little bit at her, his lips quirking up just slightly and her heart flutters again. his hair is mussed, his eyes are half open, and he looks adorably sleepy and she feels like she’s not going to make it through this day with him being like that before her. (not that she’s too sure how she puts up with him on a daily basis, honestly.) he slowly gets up and stretches again as she eyes the thin strip of pale skin that appears when he lifts his arms above his head before she’s forced to stifle a yawn, sleepy despite the ten hours she had gotten. 

he gets up and moves to kiss her softly on the lips, pulling away with a twinkle in his eyes. 

"i’m going to make breakfast, join me in a bit?" 

she’s practically in awe but she somehow manages a small nod, sitting there with the blankets around her waist as she watches his broad shoulders move slowly and disappear out of her bedroom. 

there’s something about having her idol boyfriend spend the night and have the day off today – the whole day, just for them! – that made her feel just a little bit more special than anyone else. he always took the time out of his day to make her feel special, whether it be just a short text message of ‘i miss you’ or ‘i love you’ or even just a simple 'how was your day today?’ that always had her realizing that he probably thought of her just as much as she thought about him. mei didn’t always text him, despite wanting to be sending him things constantly, knowing that he would always check his phone for her and his schedules were too important for her to be messing things up for him. (instead she spends her time texting jess as they both ranted about their idol boyfriends.) 

she lets herself gather her thoughts, deciding against texting her friend about this, knowing she was probably spending the day with hongbin – not unlike her with taekwoon. she quickly goes to brush her teeth and freshen herself up before peeking out into the kitchen, broad shoulders standing before the stove and her cheeks warm at the small smile he shoots her before he turns back to making breakfast. 

sneaking up behind him, she leans her head on his shoulder to watch him make the kimchi soup – the perfect food for a rainy day. he tastes it quietly, stirring again before holding the spoon up to her lips quietly. she takes a small sip, tilting her head before she nods at him. 

"it’s good, oppa." 

his answering smile is almost radiant – and she can’t help but marvel at how easily his expressions come nowadays, for her at least – and she beams back at him, content with how everything was going with her life now. she hums softly, vixx’s latest song, under her breath as she watches him cook for her. she used to protest to him cooking on his days off, but once he explained he missed doing it when they were too busy with promotions and now, mei’s used to seeing him fiddle around in the kitchen on his day off. 

(it’s really nice, she thinks, having a boyfriend who can cook.) 

the food is on the table as she muses over this, taekwoon settling down beside her and they both share a soft smile before digging into the food. it’s delicious, as always. 

"you should, you know, consider moving in permanently and changing your career to my cook,” she teases lightly, glancing at him after they’ve both cleared their plates and have done the dishes. he just chuckles, shaking his head, and they both know that he loves singing too much to ever give it up this early on. 

he tugs her into his arms, holding her close to his chest with a soft sigh, pressing soft lips against her forehead in a gentle kiss. 

“i would, if it meant keeping you with me forever." 

she doesn’t say anything in reply. comfortable. 

the rain continues pouring down in icy sheets outside, but inside, the warmth of their love continues to blossom.

[wistfulpetals]

insanity hongbin/jessica || loosely based off black butler.

his days are always filled with the duties of a butler who lives in a mansion far too big for the few number of staff who actually reside there. of all the staff who work there, however, he is the one who is closest to their mistress. he serves her breakfast in the morning, helps her to dress, teaches her lessons, accompanies her on walks -- he is her constant companion from sunup to sundown. the rest of the staff fulfill their own duties, often unrelated to the mistress. his sole duty is to fill her day, to protect her; the others will ensure the smooth running of the house.

he is not human, no matter how human he appears. a demon from the deepest depths of hell, she summoned him in a moment where she had nothing else to lose, trapped in her lowest moments and in the torments of her own mind, screaming and terrified of the men who appeared like demons, tearing away everything she could have ever held dear. she was trapped in her mind, living and reliving those torturous moments in her thinking and in her dreaming. there was no peace, not for her, and it was in that terror and desperation to finally rid herself of her demons that she summoned him. 

he does not love. he is incapable of it, to feel that human emotion that stirs in the depths of his non-existent heart (and therein lies the true problem, he has no heart, how can he possibly feel human emotion?), to feel such things like pity and empathy. her tears at the beginning had only amused him, his lips curling into a smirk that seemed all too at place on his stunningly handsome human face. he’d agreed to fulfill her contract out of curiosity, to see just how far she would allow herself to fall. after all, the higher they are, the harder they fall, and she had only been a child, the most innocent of souls. how delicious it would taste when she finally fell, so dark that it could never be saved again -- 

a breath passes pink lips, bitten red in a human habit he’d developed for absolutely no reason at all, red eyes glinting as he strides down the hallway to the bedroom of his mistress. mistress, he calls her, but her hair is short, cropped like a boy’s, delicate features not quite betraying her true nature, and her clothes lay to the side, designed to mask the fact that she’s really a girl. girls are never taken seriously in the real world, after all, and she has a business to run, in a day and age where women amount to very little. 

his fingers trail across porcelain skin, his lips curling into the smirk she knows better than anyone, velvety voice calling for her to awaken. lashes flutter, squinting a little against the sunlight that streams into the room, her sleepy brown eyes opening after a few moments of silent protest. he bids her good morning, dulcet tones floating into her ears, and he finds, oddly enough, that the way she smiles at him in the morning, like she never does at other times of the day, causes an unfamiliar twinge in his chest. 

feelings he can’t place words to, for how can he possibly place words to things he doesn’t understand in the slightest? he ignores them, helping her up and into her clothing for the day, binding her chest before he does anything else, dressing in the full outfit she wears daily, trousers, a shirt, the light grey vest that settles over the crisp white shirt. he ties the cravat for her, tucking it in quietly and the coat comes on last, settling on shoulders not quite broad enough to support the breadth. a hat on her head and the walking stick pressed into her hand completes the look, and he bows slightly, saying my lord instead of my lady as he does, every morning. 

watching her as she strides out of her bedroom and towards her study, he wonders whether the past twelve years he’d spent with her had influenced him in some way. he’d watched her grow up, after all, watched her mature from the frightened child she had been, completely dependent on him, to the confident woman who lived life as a man, and yet in front of him, at night and in the mornings, showed her rarely seen feminine side. 

she demands a pot of tea, and he bows his head, obliging, stepping away to fetch the cart from the kitchen, bringing it back to her with breakfast. during the day, she demands things of him, in the imperious way she’d learned over the years, and he, he simply obeys them in his quiet way, though his smirk challenges her at times, only to be met by her steely gaze, hardened over the years. and always, at that, his smirk widens before it disappears obediently. oh, how she has matured over the years, and he longs to taste, but he always restrains himself. 

but no matter what, despite her coolness during the day, her orders to him like that of a master to a servant, it’s at night that she softens. before he lifts her covers, she always looks up at him, dressed in one of his loose, soft shirts that swallows her frame and makes her look even more petite than she already seems next to him, and he feels the oddest sensations in his chest. 

sometimes he thinks he might love her. probably just in the way that he really, really, wants to eat her soul, but sometimes he thinks that maybe it’s more than that. then in the next moment, he remembers that he’s a demon, he doesn’t do petty things like love, and what he’s feeling is nothing more than a fleeting memory that will disappear sooner rather than later, in the eternal life he lives. 

but every time she flashes that god damned smile at him, his non-existent heart betrays him and he stares dumbstruck. her smile could light up the darkest pits of hell, he thinks, and despite it being everything he doesn’t want, it’s everything he can’t somehow seem to resist. 

the first time it happens, he thinks that no one is more surprised than he is. he pulls away with the taste of her on his lips, still tingling slightly from the pressure of her lips against his. she stares up at him, all wide eyes and shock written into her face, and he inhales slowly before he finds himself being tugged down slowly, another slow press of lips against him, and this time he gives up, completely surrenders, leaning into the beautiful tangle he’s let himself fall into.

it becomes a habit for him, to steal that warm pressure he’s come to treasure in a way, his eyes closing and a soft exhale leaving his lips as he lets her steal his lips. sometimes he feels empty without her, as though she’s stolen a part of her soul back, the contract that they once held so reverently taking a spot on the back burner to the ridiculous new fantasy he’s found, simultaneously destroying and rebuilding him at the same time. he’s a fool, he knows, he’s being played, everything he’s feeling is weakness, and yet there’s something in his heart (for sometimes he thinks he might have developed one after all these years) that aches when he thinks of what it’ll be like after she’s gone.

he wonders how in the world something like her could have captured him, ensnared him so fully that he feels like he doesn’t even know which way is up. he’s been caught in her tangled web, so much so that despite his own power, he finds himself falling at the touch of a finger. it’s no longer just their contract that binds them. 

she is a blind spider, weaving her web unknowingly around him, and he’s the fly that’d unwittingly been caught in her trap -- lost and confused until it’s too late to escape. with a groan, he surrenders himself to her, letting her slip her voice into his mind, her kisses chaining him down as surely as iron and silver, until he is bound to her, hand and foot. 

him, a powerful demon, chained by a simple human. the thought is laughable, twenty years ago he would have scoffed at the idea; but here he is, so completely fucked because he no longer holds the ability to break free. 

“kiss me, hongbin.” her voice is soft, sleepy, and he can’t help it when he leans in obediently to oblige her. he would have done it even if she hadn’t asked, but the sleepy smile she gives him after he fulfills her request is somehow even more satisfying than the pleasant surprise she still gets in her eyes when he touches their lips together unexpectedly. 

“do you love me?” she asks quietly, her eyes focused on his, tired but still sharp, focused, and he can’t find words to say at that question. after many silent moments, she turns her head away, a small smile on her face, but it’s resigned and sad, her lips curved up slightly at the corners, and she shakes her head slightly. “it’s okay.” 

but what bothers him hours, days later, is the fact that he hadn’t replied right away. the answer should have been simple. “no,” he should have responded right away, and yet he hadn’t. “do you love me?” the question echoes in his mind the next few days as he goes through the motions, bringing her breakfast, dressing her, kissing her before bedtime, and even then, he still doesn’t have an answer. 

“no, i don’t love you.” he tries to answer at night, but the words stick in his throat and threaten to choke him, and he himself is surprised. 

“no, i cannot love.” he tries the next night, but that doesn’t come out either, and he stares at her bedcovers, her petite figure barely shifting the blankets. 

“no, demons don’t --” and he stops himself there before he clenches his fists in the bedsheets. “fuck,” he hisses, and his eyes squeeze shut, “i love you and i hate you because i’m not even supposed to know what the hell love is and yet you --” he chokes out a startled sound as she pulls him down into a warm kiss, shutting him up quite effectively.

”shut up, hongbin.” she whispers against his lips, and he closes his eyes silently, obediently letting her kiss him into silence. despite how absolutely fucked he is, he thinks wryly to himself that of all people he had to be tied to, perhaps falling in love with her wasn’t such a bad thing after all. he might be insane, but at least he isn’t alone.

[wistfulpetals]

wingjyun:

photograph wait for me to come home 

loving can hurt loving can hurt sometimes 

he chooses not to go to the graduation ceremony even though he knows he really, really should. instead, he wanders around outside with his camera, places he doesn’t usually go so as to not be found so easily. 

he was supposed to take pictures for the yearbook, for the school newspaper, but he can’t bring himself to even turn to face the direction of the hall. all he can think about it the fact that two of the most important people in his life are walking that stage and he’s not going to be seeing them in the hallways, not going to be dragged to soccer games and soccer parties by his sister, not going to be able to curl up and cuddle with his boyfriend, and his heart hurts. 

but it’s the only thing that i know 

he glances up at the sound of his name – a call of “sebby!” – in a familiar voice and he pulls his face away from his viewfinder, straightening up, pink hair in his face. his heart gives another lurch and he doesn’t say anything as vincent approaches him, clad in his graduation gown and he has to glance away again, back to the flower he had been taking a picture of. 

he knows vincent won’t ask him why he didn’t go to the ceremony – in the same way, he knows for sure that dalena will – and he doesn’t want to explain that he couldn’t watch them both move on with their lives without him in it. he can feel the lump in his throat as his boyfriend approaches him quietly, making his way across the field and sometimes he wonders how the other male always knows just where to find him, even if it’s somewhere that he’s never been before.

he feels arms wrap around him and he can’t help the soft sniffle that he emits, lifting his camera back up to his face to mask the fact that he feels like he might cry soon. he’s pulled back into a warm chest, spun and he’s blinking up at his favorite person in the world – his favorite person that is leaving and graduating and leaving him behind – tears in his brown eyes as they meet blue, not having a choice because of the fingers gently holding his chin. 

     come live with me in new york.

he can’t help the way his mouth falls open, surprised, and it’s obvious in vincent’s face that he hadn’t meant to ask so bluntly, that he had had a whole speech prepared to ask him in the most romantic and special and memorable way but that’s probably one of his favorite things about his favorite person. 

     okay.

he loves his smile too.

when it gets hard you know it can get hard sometimes 

he settles in with vincent in a nice apartment in new york and he likes it. he likes it more than he can imagine and he has a few flowers sitting on the windowsill of their fourth floor apartment that looks over a park and a fountain and he thinks it’s probably his new favorite place. he takes photographs at the fountain, he waters his pot of hydrangeas and the orchid and the peonies and he smiles when he takes pictures of those too. 

he’s going back to school in three days and he doesn’t think he’s ever hated an idea so much in his life. 

he doesn’t want to leave. 

he ends up arguing with vincent, about how he could just stay here and enroll in a school here or something, finish up here, not worry about his powers since they were pretty useless to him anyway. ( what use was speed if every time he ran for too long, every time he ran too fast, every time he ran in general, that he felt like his chest was on fire, that he needed to take a good thirty minute break before he felt okay again? )

he loses the argument when his sister decides to call from home, with pietro and esme with her and they all talk him into going back to elias and he sulks for two hours and forty four minutes before vincent apologizes for ratting him out and he cries in the other’s arms for another good thirty seven minutes before he can calm down enough to pack. 

it is the only thing that makes us feel alive 

he stays pressed to vincent’s side the entire trip to the airport, unable to even allow the other to step away to grab a bite to eat, to go to the washroom even. his boyfriend indulges him, knowing he would worry about being forgotten the entire time he’s away and he promises to visit him on school breaks, and call him every night and text him all day as long as he promises not to text in class. 

he promises. ( but he doesn’t know if he can keep that promise or not. ) 

he somehow gets to the gate with the other by his side the entire time – there had been some negotiations about him getting through customs considering who both of their parents are, but it had gone without a hitch after that – and he turns to vincent as his flight time nears. 

     i don’t want to go. 

     you have to. 

     but i don’t want to anymore. i never did. 

he’s tugged into a tight embrace, face tucked into vincent’s shoulder and he sniffles softly, somehow having been able to stave off his tears the entire preparation for this trip but he can feel them tickling behind his closed eyelids as he presses his face into his boyfriend’s shirt, unable to stop himself from tearing up now. 

he feels something being tucked into his hand and he pulls away to glance at the little book in his fingers. he opens it quietly, intrigued and curious, tilting his head to the side and he doesn’t know what it is until he catches a glimpse of what’s on the first page. it’s a picture of them, the first time they met, sitting in a circle of light on a bench, his head pillowed in vincent’s lap. ( he doesn’t remember this, but he’s heard the story enough times to know it’s definitely them. )

     if you’re ever sad, look through this okay? it’s us. everything … i have one too.

he glances at the other, eyes widening and there are tears glistening there before he pulls vincent into another hug. his heart is hurting again, but it feels a bit lighter. his boyfriend will miss him just as much, right? right. hopefully. 

he gets on the plane, tears streaming down his cheeks but with a smile on his face as he hugs the little album close to his heart.

we keep this love in a photograph we made these memories for ourselves where our eyes are never closing hearts are never broken

he spends a lot of time looking at the little photo album. it has printed pictures as well as the polaroids he had taken, and he sometimes wonders how vincent had made a copy of everything so that they could both have one. 

he sits in the places that the pictures had been taken in, looking at them quietly, holding them up to the sun, remembering the things that had been happening in the photographs. 

time’s forever frozen still

he looks at the picture of them, sprawled on the grass with the sunlight dancing in their hair and their laughs ringing in the air. it had been a picnic and he had been dragged out of his dormitory room against his will with the excuse of nice weather, warm sunlight and good company. the weather had been nice, the sunlight had been warm and the company had been much better than just good. the two of them had chatted the day away, vincent somehow having been the one person who could pull long replies from him and he smiles softly to himself, touching his throat. he still remembers how sore his throat had been that night, after a long day of just talking. 

he thinks of the picture of them bundled up in scarves and beanies and covered in snow, bright smiles on their faces, his dimples obvious even in the picture. he had been dragged into an impromptu snowball fight, literally tugged into it by vincent and dalena and a handful of other friends who all immediately bombarded him with snowballs and he had been wrought on revenge, jason having dumped a giant handful of snow down his shirt and he remembers chasing them all around for hours, ending the night with rosy cheeks, runny noses, hot chocolate, lots of laughter and memories etched into his heart as he snuggled with vincent for warmth. 

he glances at the picture of them on the beach, the bright blue ocean in behind them in the pictures and he smiles quietly to himself, thinking of the day they had spent with their sandy toes in the ocean, the smell of salt in the air and the horrid sunglasses tan he had gotten that day. he remembers how he had been pulled into the ocean by the other, laughing and protesting half-heartedly – he was quickly realizing how easily he had stopped protesting to being dragged into things by his boyfriend – getting dunked in and swallowing salt water almost immediately. he remembers feeling like he was choking on sand, dying with laughter at the same time. 

he passes the days where he misses vincent by reliving memories, even though they’ll never replace the real thing. 

loving can heal loving can mend your soul 

he calls vincent when he’s finished his homework, hoping the time difference isn’t too horrible, thinking it’s probably early afternoon where his boyfriend is, he’s entirely unsurprised when the other picks up on the second ring. 

     i miss you. 

he can’t help the words that blurt out almost immediately upon hearing the other’s voice, tears springing to his eyes and he wipes at them furiously with the sleeve of his hand, listening to vincent talk quietly about everything he’s learning at tony stark’s tower and in his lab and he honestly thinks he could just lay there and listen forever. 

he wants to. 

     you should sleep soon. you have class tomorrow morning right? 

he also regrets giving his boyfriend his schedule, sighing softly and he sits up gingerly, rubbing at his eyes. they’ve been talking for hours, and he knows it’s only because vincent’s dad is so close to tony stark that he’s been allowed to talk on the phone for this long. it’s more than he could ever ask for and he nods quietly, despite knowing the other wouldn’t be able to see him, making a soft noise in acknowledgment. 

     i love you, you know? 

     i love you too. 

he stays on the line until he falls asleep, vincent’s soft humming lulling him into unconsciousness, heart warm, a smile on his lips.

and it’s the only thing that i know 

he’s woken up by a loud knock on his dorm door and he shoots awake in his bed. his roommate isn’t there for some reason – he thinks he’s probably sleeping over at some girl’s dormitory again – and he glances around, terrified. there’s another gentle knock and he swallows, not knowing what to do or who on earth would be at his door at 4 in the morning during christmas break and it takes him another five minutes to finally decide to answer the door. 

he peeks through the peephole, not seeing anything, and he furrows his brow in confusion, sudden anger surging through him when he realizes it’s probably a prank. 

he pulls open the door, ready to yell at whoever had woken him up, his blanket tugged around his shoulders like a cape – only to see an envelope laying on the floor, innocently. he leans down to pick it up, seeing that it was unsealed, and he frowns to himself as he opens it. he really hopes it’s not one of those glitter bombs that his roommate had gotten just a few days ago, tugging out a note. it says ‘look up’ in an oddly familiar scrawl though he can’t place who’s writing it is. 

he glances up, only to gasp and drop the letter when he finds himself face to face with his boyfriend and it takes his brain a few moments before it really registers what’s happening. and even then he can barely believe his eyes. 

      vincent? wh-what are you doing here? 

     what else? to spend christmas with you, silly. 

he thinks it’s the best christmas present he’s ever received. 

i swear it gets easier remember with every piece of ya 

he wanders the grounds, spring having sprung and he smiles at the sight of little flowers starting to bloom in the warm sunlight. he wants to take pictures to send to vincent, scrolling through the screen on his dslr to figure out which ones he might send. 

he misses his plants in their apartment in new york, wondering absently if his boyfriend had really been taking care of them like he had said he would. he could always buy new ones, he guesses, if they don’t survive the care of the other male and he smiles a bit to himself at the thought of their apartment. he misses it. he misses having a big bed and he misses not having to share anything with his roommates. he misses his little blue basket that had carried his medicine and hair products, having left that for their washroom and he sighs softly, snapping a picture of a sunflower. 

he blinks at the picture he’s taken, smiling to himself. it’s a good picture, he thinks, nodding to himself as he goes to find a different thing to take pictures of. he’ll send that one to vincent. a sunflower for the sun in his life. it’s perfect. 

and it’s the only thing we take with us when we die 

he lays in the grass under the tree they always used to take naps under or study under or have picnics under and he smiles to himself, feeling the sun warm his face and his body. his back is a bit damp, the morning dew not having completely evaporated before he had settled down, but he doesn’t mind as he lets his eyes fall closed. 

he’s doing well in school, the basketball team is doing well too, he hasn’t had an asthma attack since the year before, the time during the basketball game, he’s been doing good with keeping his friendships intact. 

he talked to dalena recently and pietro and esme and he feels happy. 

he thinks the reason why he’s been doing so good lately is because he doesn’t want vincent to have to worry about him. he knows his boyfriend probably already does that, and he tries to help by keeping an eye on skylar and on what she’s doing. ( he is friends with joyce after all, and it’s not too hard to get a little bit of information about his boyfriend’s sister. ) 

he relaxes quietly, thinking of how different the past couples years and this year are, feeling the sunlight dancing on his face and he even feels calm. he remembers how anxious he had always been, how he used to wear his mask whenever he was in public even if no one ever really recognized him. his hair was still pink, thanks to a certain rogers, and he doesn’t think it makes him the odd one out anymore. he likes to think that it makes him unique, extra special.  

he really only has vincent to thank for this, and for this he’ll be forever grateful.

and if you hurt me that’s okay, baby, only words bleed inside these pages you just hold me and i won’t ever let you go 

he’s been busy with finals and the first time he’s touched a phone or a laptop in days is when he’s finished all of them. the first thing he sees though, is definitely not what he had expected. there are pictures of vincent partying – he swallows, knowing it was just something that tony stark did, that it wasn’t anything big, nothing he had to worry about – pictures of him surrounded by girls and guys alike, obviously popular because of his last name. 

he sees the bright smile on his boyfriend’s face and he has to swallow again, his throat tight and he knows he doesn’t have a reason to be hurt or a reason to be jealous. 

oh, you can fit me inside the necklace you got when you were sixteen next to your heartbeat where i should be keep it deep within your soul 

he realizes his phone has a ton of messages and he decides he’ll go through those first, heart leaping to his throat when he sees that the majority of the texts are from said boyfriend. he takes a couple moments to calm down, knowing these were all things he was supposed to have read days ago even though he had warned vincent he would be suffering from a temporary social media ban to get through his finals. there are mostly picture messages, vincent in his tank top and baggy jeans and there’s a smile on his face in the familiarity despite the tightness in his heart. 

he doesn’t think he can get through the pictures until he notices the necklace his boyfriend is wearing and, despite everything, that brings a smile to his lips. 

he remembers how they had purposely engraved one of the tags with their initials. he had been against it, thinking it was too cheesy, too public of an announcement for him to be okay with it but he could only hedge so much for so long and vincent ended up getting it done anyway. seeing it now though, makes him feel a surge of relief, smiling as he goes through the rest of the messages. 

he smiles to himself as he reads them, the messages varying from ‘i don’t know why i have to go to this stupid party’ to ‘this girl in front of me is throwing up and it’s kind of fascinating how much is coming out’ to ‘i miss you’ and even ‘hurry up and turn your phone back on!!!” 

he didn’t think he could feel happy again after seeing those pictures, but he realizes they’re mostly tabloids and paparazzi photos after he checks online to see if there was anything interesting about the party. ( it turned out it was just a cover up for something with the avengers, and vincent had been the most well-known person there, considering tony stark hadn’t even been at his own party. the media had to focus their attention on someone, of course. )

so you can keep me inside the pocket of your ripped jeans 

he keeps the little photo album with him at all times, either in his backpack, or his camera case when he’s out, or under his pillow when he’s in his dorm and he keeps a special eye on it as he’s packing up his room. it’s his turn to graduate now. 

he sees dalena and esme and he runs up to them, steady but quick enough as he wraps his arms around his older sister and gives her a squeeze before ducking down to give his younger sister one too. the ice cream maximoffs were reunited once again, his sister chimes and he can’t help the soft chuckle that falls from his lips, eyes bright even though he spends most of the time scanning over the crowd, using his height to his advantage, looking for a different blond head. 

he reaches down to gently touch his pocket, the little photo album residing in its special place as he looks for his boyfriend, hoping that he would show up despite him not having shown up for the other’s graduation. 

holdin’ me closer ‘til our eyes meet you won’t ever be alone 

he walks the stage without catching a glimpse of vincent and his heart sinks, gaze drooping to his feet as he heads down the steps on the side of the stage. 

he feels someone tug on his arm and he doesn’t even look up as he tries to pull his arm away, but the arms that wrap around him are familiar and the quiet chuckle is even more familiar and he glances up immediately, and he feels a surge of emotion that seems to pour into every bone in is body and he actually slumps against vincent. 

     did you really think i wouldn’t come? i wouldn’t miss this for the world. 

he sobs quietly into the other’s chest, not realizing, or maybe not caring, that the ceremony was still continuing, feeling fingers tilt his chin up and he shakes his head, wanting to hide his face. there’s a soft press of lips against his own and he makes a soft sound, surprised but happy and he feels his heart swell, kissing him back with everything he could muster, wanting to pour all his feelings from the past couple months into the kiss. 

wait for me to come home

he’s packed and ready after the graduation ceremony, after everything that’s needed to be done is done and over with and he says his goodbyes to his friends that he won’t be seeing over the summer – the friends that he won’t be seeing for a while. he spends a good while with everyone after he’s checked and double-checked his dorm to make sure he didn’t forget anything. they chat for hours, about their finals, about their families, about what they’re doing with their lives until he pulls away, wanting some alone time with his favorite person. 

he wanders the school grounds for the last time, hand in hand with his boyfriend and he’s never felt happier or more relaxed than he does right now and the smile on his face hasn’t left it since he stopped crying at the ceremony. 

     are you ready to go home? 

he doesn’t even have to think about his answer, a ‘yes’ on his lips as he glances at the other with a dimpled smile on his face. he ends up taking a moment to think of a better way to word his answer, thinking it was too cheesy, too heartfelt, too sincere. but it was the truth. 

     i am home.

home is where the heart is, he thinks, and his heart is definitely wherever vincent is. 

wait for me to come home

[wistfulpetals]

what goes around comes around taekwoon, sojin, soojung, ken (no real pairings) || it’ll all come back, eventually.

a/n: whAT ARE YOU DOING TO ME NADINE TELL ME 

the corridor spins and he stumbles, a hand lunging out to steady himself on the wall. he has to take a moment to actually focus, his head feeling like it’s been stuffed with cotton and like he’s living on another world. he feels like he’s no longer living in his body, his legs jelly underneath him, his usually precise control over his weapon of a body faltering, and he stumbles into the wall this time, a hand slipping from his head to the still healing wounds on his neck. 

the skin is marred with those little marks, scabbing over, but they’re a testament to the fact that he’s been fed on too often, the marks all recent, fresh, and he gasps softly as he sinks to the ground, clutching his head in an attempt to steady himself back into this world. he’s only human, after all.

the door opens, the class stepping out and he isn’t in time to gather himself, seemingly unable to pull his mind back from the recesses of the hallways to where it feels like it’s flown to. he’s barely even aware when worried female voices sound around him and he feels a petite hand resting on his cheek. “taekwoon? taekwoon, open your eyes. look at me.” it’s soojung’s voice, still calm, though he can distantly hear the worry behind her stern tone, and there’s a panicked edge filtering into his consciousness. 

“taekwoon?” sojin’s voice, he realizes, his eyes opening with a good deal of difficulty as he struggles to obey soojung’s orders. “what’s wrong with him -- soojung, everything is so low -- it’s like he doesn’t have the energy for anything.” her voice is hushed, concerned, and it’s at sojin’s words that it clicks in soojung’s mind. 

“ken.” she mutters in a furious tone of voice, and a low voice drawls, “what about me, doll?” the male in question appears, looking casually unruffled and utterly uncaring as he glances down at the scene. taekwoon’s head is leaning against sojin’s shoulder, soojung’s hand still resting on his cheek, and he simply looks drained, exhausted, completely out of it. 

at ken’s completely uncaring expression, it seems as though something inside sojin snaps, and taekwoon can feel the anger and fury radiating off her. it sparks something in him, or it tries to, but he’s so exhausted that it’s all he can do to simply keep his eyes open, his chest rising and falling in short little pants. 

“you --” she starts, her voice blazing with fury as soojung takes over sojin’s position, supporting her conduit in this unusually vulnerable position. taekwoon has always been the strong one, despite the fact that he’s the only human among the three of them, he’s always been the one to protect first soojung, then sojin as she entered his life. he’s only ever been strong to her, to both of them, and the sight of him so weak, barely even able to keep his eyes open, has a surge of rage so strong running through sojin’s body that she can hardly keep it contained, angry tears welling up in her eyes. “you horrible, horrible excuse for a blue blood --” she shrieks, her voice coming out a little too high-pitched, a little too emotional to actually be frightening, and although the anger is rolling off her in waves, literally, it doesn’t seem to affect ken. 

“oh, yes. i’m a horrible excuse for a blue blood. whatever you say, doll.” he says with a smirk, and the anger that’s literally rolling off her doesn’t seem to bother him at all. 

her fury soars, her heart clenching as she glances back at taekwoon’s half conscious form, supported mostly by soojung. “i can’t believe someone like you exists, you -- you monster, you forced him into being your familiar because he wouldn’t submit to you --” the tears are streaming down her face now, her anger and rage fueling her words and her emotions her expression. 

ken only laughs, tossing his head back and the sound holds real amusement at the girl’s words. “oh, are you jealous? that he can’t be your familiar because he’s mine?” a helplessly angry sound leaves her lips and it’s in that moment that she lunges at him, fists flying, trying to give him some of the pain he so carelessly doles out to other people. she lands a few hits on him, but they don’t seem to affect him, the male blue blood simply letting the hits land on him with that same arrogant smirk on his face. 

“so... jin...” a raspy voice comes, a weak sound and she hesitates, turns to see taekwoon struggling to sit up, his eyes fixed on her, struggling to focus, and she hurries to his side, cradling his face gently. “d... don’t be... it’s okay...” he manages, a small smile slipping onto his face and he whispers it again, both to her, to soojung, and probably even to himself, “it’s... okay...” 

straightening from his side, giving his hand a gentle squeeze, she glares at ken with all the vehemence she can muster. “you’ll get what’s coming to you one day, ken.” she hisses lowly, hands clenched into fists at her side. “one day, you’ll think about everything you’ve done, and all the guilt will come back to haunt you.” 

“i swear it.”

[wistfulpetals]

the way things are yoongi/jae || the unknown is always scary.

a/n: for you dearest hubby c:

he slides fingers callused from battle through silky waves of hair, loosening the knots that have built up over the course of the day, his expression tender from behind her, where she can’t see him. “i’m scared,” her gentle voice comes, and he runs his hands through her hair silently in response. there is nothing he can say or do, nothing he is capable of doing to help her feel better. 

“i’m sorry,” he whispers lowly, and it’s all he can do, express weak words of condolence that he means with all his heart. he is sorry. he wishes he could change things, that they wouldn’t be like this, but she’s the princess, an older brother already in line to inherit the throne, so she’s no longer necessary to the throne of the kingdom -- simply to strengthen the kingdom however she can. 

“i’m scared, yoongi.” she whispers again, and she lifts a hand, placing it on the hand that rests on her shoulder silently. “i don’t want to go... what if he doesn’t like me? what if he does?” her voice trails off, hesitant and afraid, turning her head slightly to glance up at him.

”you must, princess.” he says softly, his free hand lifting to rest on her cheek, brushing her bangs out of her eyes quietly. “it’ll be alright.” he’s afraid for her too, for her to have to pack up her entire life and carry it into a new kingdom to be a foreign queen, to lose the freedom she holds in her hands as the second child and first princess. 

“you’ll be with me, right?” she asks in a quiet tone, her fear clear in that question, and he manages a small smile. for her, he’d do anything. 

”every step of the way.”

[jaemyuns]

stars fall, and the world goes blind lenacent; it is a man’s own mind, not his enemy or foe, that lures him to evil ways trope bingo prompt: mind control

notes: THEY END UP OKAY. I REPEAT, VINCENT ENDS UP OKAY. i didn’t think the resolution worked with the story so here it is: dalena snaps to her senses, takes vincent in her arms and runs to the closest hospital. he is saved with no more than a little bit of internal bleeding and few contusions from the actual fight ೖ(⑅σ̑ᴗσ̑)ೖ 

a closed fist flings itself forward, her entire body weighed into the attack, hitting vince square in the nose with a loud and satisfying thwack. they both stumble from the impact, dalena taking no time to jump back onto her feet, pursuing him again.

she backs him against a railing, punch after punch, he pushes her off with a force, causing her to fall back, landing on the floor with a dark thud. the pain shoots through her hips, her torso, registering in her mind, as adrenaline is flooded to overcome it. once again, she springs back into action, twirling a kick to hit him on the chin.

-

dalena had always resigned herself to a life of mundanity after graduation. not so much that she minded, really, she was happy with an office job, with an income, with a simple life. 

aunt wanda constantly asks her to join shield, some overseas foundation that seeks to support the population but, no, dalena has seen the news, heard the rumours, decided that that wasn’t for her. so she chooses to remain in france, as the working public relations officer of the monarchy, a job that she enjoys more than people realise. 

-

she finds a crowbar on the floor, takes it, with two long swings coming at her friend. her mind is blank, not at all concerning that potential dangers that can come of this, only wanting to do one thing and one thing only:

end his life.

-

the call comes late one thursday afternoon, steve rogers, as cute as he was, was not very convincing when he was strained in worry. apparently her aunt had recommended her, her speed and basic knowledge of combat, underlining her affinity to the mission. he throws a number of incentives to try and coax her to come but dalena declines, explaining that she had a life in france, a fiancee, she was just much too busy to do anything like that.

it wasn’t until she hears vince come across the call does her decision change.

-

“lena, listen!” he says through gritted teeth, hands at his chin as he tries to stop her from strangling him with the crowbar, eventually pushing her off, “it’s me: vince! lena, come on, you have to be in there somewhere” he ducks just in time to miss the crowbar aimed directly to his face.

-

a new mutation has risen in california, she’s told, one that will have catastrophic consequences if not properly dealt with. patient zero is located in a pent house just north of la. her mission? simply collect him and bring him to shield. 

what she wasn’t told was that this wasn’t a virus, there was no strain, no patient zero. his powers rivalled that of professor xavier, an old friend of her grandfather’s. they had assumed with her blood lineage, she would be able to withstand any type of mind control, like her aunt before her. what they failed to understand was that dalena was not her aunt. 

as her eyes flicker to black, she realises she never stood a chance.

-

she remains silent, stepping onto her back feet, preparing a stance to attack him once more. she throws punch after punch with surprising speed and strength, unbalancing him, as he continues to resist hurting her. had she had proper control of her mind, she would do the same. 

with a running start, she punches him twice in the chest and then roundhouse kicks him in the face, finally, with an odd satisfaction, watching him fall to the floor, his consciousness beginning to leave his eyes.

-

before they leave, charles makes vincent promise to protect dalena at all costs, which, though it makes her laugh, she found useless. she could look after herself, and, really, with vincent there, how much trouble could the two truly get into.

the crew falls into line with their friendship soon enough, dalena constantly beside vince, if not to ensure he was eating, looking after himself, more to relieve the worry that was bubbling within her. she had never been on a mission, any kind of mission, before, she’s at least glad that vincent is there to metaphorically hold her hand as she does. 

when the ship registers a different type of energy from her, chemical levels different from what she had left with, he knows instantly what had happen. he orders the crew to leave, to contact shield as soon as they can, explain that dalena has been compromised, that he will deal with it. 

he swallows the worry that sits at the base of his throat and goes looking for her in the ship. 

-

bending forward, she reveals a small army knife tucked into a band around her ankle. brandishing the weapon, she approaches him slowly, her smile, evil, her eyes, forlorn, all emotion non existent. she watches him stand warily, stumbling, uncertain, on his own two feet and, in a last dash, throws an arm out to take the knife. 

with surprising ease, she thrusts the knife into his torso, feeling his body rivet underneath her blade, a brief moment where he stills against her, before his jaw falls slightly ajar. next there is a sharp cry, and, just as her mind clicks to the pain she was dolling out, a drawn out, “lena…” escapes from his lips. she returns herself to her control, the images of death, destruction, blood coloured glasses dimming their strength from her sight. the blood pooling from his wound was more than she realised, trickling down his uniform, onto her hand, as he stumbles backwards.

-

“vince–no, no, no–you can’t–you won’t die on me–vince–i’m–” 

alone in the ship, her voice rings clear, not a single soul present around them, the silence deafening her as her mind works to a solution. his body was limp, cradled in her lap, no movements or signs of life from him, her choked sobs the only companion to his steadily slowing breathing. her voice, though elevated, rings through the ship, falling onto no ears other than her own.

“you can’t die–HELP!–SOMEONE HELP US!–vinny–” 

[wingjyun]

tomorrow rogers squad

[wingjyun]

wanderlust is a funny thing, she thinks, waiting in the airport to board her plane back home to new york. she had spent a couple weeks in france to visit eloise and bother jason before she decided it was, finally, time to head home.

despite everything she’s said about the last two years being the best of her life (they were), she really does miss having a phone and reception everywhere and to be able to talk to her friends whenever she wants. she misses new york pizza and the new york skyline and she misses her dad’s shepherd’s pie and she misses her bed. her bed is probably one of the things she misses the most during her travels, and despite the charmings’ tendency to overcompensate and give her the softest bed in their kingdom (jason had said that), honestly, skye misses her bed.

new york is just as she remembers it, from the last day she had spent there packing before up and leaving for two years. she sees her dad every so often, when he’s on missions for the avengers and they’re in the same area.

but, she misses her brother the most.

she misses how they used to argue all the time, and how she had to cook for him, and how she would force him to learn how to make a sandwich, and how she used to make his hair different colors and how he could always make her laugh. and how warm his hugs always were.

she puts in her earbuds when she gets her seat on the plane, red hair tied up into a ponytail and she chooses the playlist of songs that she had stolen from his laptop before she left. 

she can’t wait to see her brother.

–

when she lands, she grabs her suitcase, thankfully it was one of the first, before hopping in a taxi and heading home. despite wanting to surprise her brother, she really needs a shower from that long as fuck flight and maybe some food. she makes microwaveable macaroni and cheese as her first meal back in new york, damp towel slung around her shoulders as she listens to the beep. it’s nice to be home, she thinks, shoveling the pasta down her throat as soon as it’s cooled enough for her to not scald her tongue.

she lets herself indulge in being home for a while longer, swigging out of the milk carton in the fridge and helping herself to one of the tied up chip bags in the pantry, wondering if her dad was even home or if she had the house to herself for a little bit. she had told him she was coming back but no one else knew. 

once she’s run out of things to occupy herself with, skye puts on some makeup, changes into short and a loose tshirt and slinging a little bag over her shoulder, stuffing everything she would need into it – her wallet, checking to make sure she had money, her brother’s souvenirs, and the cute little polaroid camera keychain she had bought for sebastian – before heading out to stark tower. 

her father had clued her in on everything she had missed while traveling the world, everything about her brother going to their uncle tony and learning about the functions and the dealings of all the iron men suits and whatnot, and she almost hopes he’s made her some gadget to play with, but he doesn’t know she’s coming back, no one does really, so she shoos those hopes out the window. 

– 

it doesn’t take long to get to the tower, a popular tourist attraction meaning that almost everything pointed her in that direction anyway, even having a subway stop named after it and she glances up, remembering when she used to play with her brother up top.

she’s let in almost immediately, knowing her brother was most definitely there and she grins to herself in the elevator. 

– 

“OLLLIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!” he’s not even given a moment to really put down whatever he’s holding before he’s practically bowled over in her tackle, flying into his arms with a bright smile and she buries her face in his – lab coat – shirt with a soft sigh. 

his hugs are just as good as she’s remembered them to be.

his expression is surprised, almost disbelieving as he gazes down at her and she glances up to meet his eyes, her own crinkling up in the wide smile and she’s promised herself she wouldn’t cry because it would be stupid to cry over her own brother but that doesn’t stop her from hugging him tight, hiding her face in his chest again in an attempt to stop herself from crying. she’s not crying, really, she promises. she’s got something in her eye. really. 

his hand strokes over her hair, making her think of when they were little and she used to crawl into his lap or his bed whenever she had had a nightmare, and she glances up at him when she feels his shoulders shaking, feeling his soft little breaths in her hair and she smiles to herself, hugging him just as tightly as he was squeezing her. 

“hey, if you don’t stop crying i’m going to start and we don’t want to flood uncle tony’s lab,” she tries to reason, pulling away to look up at him (all the way up, damn his height!), her voice shaky and if she sniffles a little bit, well, who can blame her? 

“you’re back,” it’s a whisper, and it’s the only reply she gets before she’s tugged back into his arms and she smiles to herself. he hasn’t changed, she thinks, rather happily and she just lets herself be hugged, letting him hold her as if to make up for the two years she had been away, out of contact, honestly having missed this either way. 

not that she would admit that of course.

“i’m back.”

maybe to him. 

“and … i missed you.”

[wistfulpetals]

house of cards hongbin/suji || there are no happy endings. trigger warning: implied death

some people say that promises are made to be broken, but she thinks that promises should never be made if their only destiny is to be broken. she’s hoped and prayed, put her trust in the boy who holds her heart, knowing all the while that every promise he makes is a another card placed upon a tenuous base in the house of cards that is her heart. it only takes the smallest breeze for the house to tumble, a fragility tossed in turmoil’s wind. 

and yet, she dares to hope. she is a grayscale painting, where the sun gleams dully in a colorless world, perfectly happy (not happy, she’s never been happy) to simply be. there’s no point in saving a colorless life, there’s no purpose for her. but he comes in, a paintbrush smeared with colors, sunshine flooding in warm rays of yellow to touch her cold heart, and for the first time, she thinks she can be happy despite the fact that he insists he can’t promise her tomorrow. 

but the red slowly seeps into every corner of the painting, a slow spread that eventually tints the painting with its color. her heart sinks, watching as the cards flutter from the top of the house of cards, just a few – one by one, but their love doesn’t collapse. she doesn’t collapse, because she still hopes. “i’ve beaten it twice,” he reminds her when he lies in the bed, weak, “i’m not going to let it take me away.” it’s not quite a promise but it’s close enough, and she lets herself continue to hope. 

he falls. wastes away, day by day, moment by moment, the pieces of him that had brought sunshine into her life fading away slowly, and she can only watch as her love fades in her arms. “don’t cry for me,” he pleads in a hoarse voice, his gaunt face lined with pain. “don’t cry for me, suji-ah.” his eyes close and he exhales, the pain on his face a mirror of hers, and she clutches his hand tightly (but not really tightly at all, too afraid that she’ll hurt his so fragile body). 

“i’ll be okay.” he promises before he goes into the operating room, his eyes open and conscious, there, and she smiles weakly, pretending to believe the words that they both don’t believe. it’s a last ditch effort, the only choice he has left, the only hope he has for living, and they don’t have any hope left. 

“i’ll see you when you come out.” she whispers in return, her tears held back by sheer willpower, trying not to cry as she leans down to kiss him. for the final time? she doesn’t know, but it certainly feels like a last supper. she watches as they wheel him out of her sight (out of her life), doors swinging shut behind her boyfriend, her sun, the love of her life. 

and just like that, her life is monochrome again. 

[wistfulpetals]

i think i wanna marry you charles/dalena || charles just can’t keep things simple. 

“vince, you rarely call me out like this!” dalena exclaims as she bounces out of the apartment she shares with her boyfriend, blonde hair dancing in the wind she creates by sprinting towards the much taller frame of the boy -- the man, now -- that she considers her son. 

“i just need help with seb, okay...?” he mutters lowly, glancing away from her, and he’s flushing a light pink, not really lying. they’ve only been together for a few months, and it’s approaching graduation. knowing his boyfriend, he wants to do something special, to reassure sebastian that he holds a very special place in vincent’s heart. “we’re graduating soon...” he mumbles as he offers her his arm, waiting for her to loop her arm through his, leading her towards his car. 

“are you planning something big?” her eyes widen as she climbs into the car, eyes both hopeful and critical, clearly planning to take any plan he has and make it perfect for her baby brother. after all, hadn’t that been the entire reason behind ‘project: boyfriend’? 

“yeah... i want him to be sure that i’m not going to somehow forget him or something when i graduate, you know?” he mumbles softly, starting up the car and inwardly he sighs, rather in disbelief that he’s doing something like this. not so much that he’s doing something special for the younger male, but that he’s going to such lengths to hide such an enormous secret from dalena. 

as predicted, however, that sparks her big sister nature, the blonde haired girl immediately going on a rant about things that sebastian likes, things he doesn’t like, and just things that speak to the pink haired male in general. despite vincent’s nonchalant appearance, keeping his expression neutral, he’s carefully taking in every word that the younger girl says. it’s not a lie, after all, that he does need help with sebastian -- he’s not exactly the leading expert on relationships to begin with, and who better to ask for help than the other’s older sister?

somehow, he finds himself swept around on a whirlwind of dalena’s ideas, dragged from place to place, things shoved into his arms, things that she assures will mean something to sebastian, but in the end, he knows that sebastian will be bothered if he spends a lot of money. so instead, he decides to purchase a few sets of polaroids, planning on taking the other out for a day full of them. 

dalena’s delighted expression by the end of the afternoon tells him that she’s completely unsuspecting and pleased with herself for completing ‘project: boyfriend’. “’lena, let’s go to the park and walk around for a bit? i want to see if there’s any spots i should take seb.” he offers smoothly, secretly pleased when she agrees. 

[ jas ] we’re on schedule. get ready.

humming softly, he escorts her towards the park, peering through the trees as though looking for something special. “oh, let’s go here --” he calls out as he tugs her gently through the clearing, coming to a stop at the sight of people waiting there. 

“jas?” dalena’s voice is full of confusion. “hey, jas, what are you doing here?” she asks curiously, detaching herself from vincent’s arm and stepping towards her boyfriend, a small smile on her face. a smirk comes over vincent’s lips as sebastian comes out from the bushes, interlacing their hands quietly as charles takes dalena’s hands quietly. 

“day... dalena.” he murmurs lowly, his voice a bit shy and uncertain. 

“jas?” her voice is still confused despite the fact that they’ve now become the only two in the clearing, vincent and sebastian melting into the shadows and bushes along with olivier, jason, eloise, esme -- the other important people in their lives. 

instead of answering her confused voice, he swallows, falling to one knee, holding her hands in both of his for a moment, staring up at the girl he loves, radiant in the setting sun. the clicks of a shutter bely the fact that sebastian is clicking away like mad, the official photographer for the event. 

“day...” he swallows again, nervous, even more than he had been for the past few hours, the whole time they’d spent planning this event. his words spill out in a rush and torrent, nervous words tumbling over other words and the only thing he can do is tell her how much she means to him and how happy and thankful he is to have her. he feels like an idiot, words he’d never planned on tumbling from his lips, his speech all but forgotten, and he lets her hands go to pull out the ring box he’d stashed in his pocket. 

“i love you, dalena petra maximoff, will you marry me?” 

[jaemyuns]

thinking out loud. lenacent, dalles; project boyfriend completes itself 

[jaemyuns]

dalena it’s 1am.

“hello–hello–babe–babe–”

it’s a routine, almost, the way the alcohol runs through her veins, transparent through her better judgements, down the tips of her fingers, towards an expected single phone call to one expecting single person. 

(both a blessing, and not, that the only person she thinks of when, her drunk addled mind, drowning under three shots of tequila, is charles.)

where are you?

“i’m–i’m at this–place–music–what’s it called?–amnesia!” 

he knew where she was, of course, there was no denying it, not when she was the overactive type of person who preferred to constantly keep him up to date with her movements, her schedule, not when they were the kind of couple that actually liked knowing what the other was doing, where and when. 

(the music was too loud, had she been sober, should would have recognised this. but she was neither, nor, capable enough to stand on her own two feet, slumped against a much taller, leaner, male, one that was just as out of place as a fish out of water.)

who are you with?

“i’m with vince!–i finally–i finally convinced him to come out with me–”

said vince, tall, mr. rogers, as eloise has often called him, glances over at her, sipping at his water, while her hands fumbled with his buttons. though she had promised herself, her boyfriend, and any of their mutual friends that would listen, that she would make him over to be the best boyfriend that he could possibly be for her wonderful sebastian, when drunk, dalena likes to think of herself as cupid.

(she was trying to get him to show some more skin, a clavicle that many would be jealous of, that girls, and guys, really, she had no preference, would droll over, his hands swat her away instantly.)

go home, day. 

“but–but–jas–i don’t want to go home!–i want–i want to dance!–i promised vince i would–i would hook him up–”

he was never any fun, she thinks, though later she’ll find that she had screamed it across to vince, standing right beside her, into the hollows of his ears. dating someone who cared, actually, genuinely, truly, cared, was difficult at times; his jealousy often become a focal point of many a fight, screaming matches, that are resolved, only to be reopened a week later when he punches a waiter for giving her the wrong kind of look.

(he always cared for her, the only real person, she knows, that she’ll ever allow as such. she was motherly, needing to be needed, not even allowing her own father, the person who made up half of her dna, ever getting close enough to look after her. dalena looked after everyone, and, perhaps a sentiment to their perfection, charles looks after her.)

don’t make me come get you.

“hey, it’s me.” (hey vince, how’s my girl doing?) “lena’s fine. she’s had, like, what, three shots? nothing new. i’ll take her home. don’t worry, i’ve got her.”

awed, she looks up at him with wide eyes, admiration, inspiration, perhaps something else, had she been sober enough to figure out her synonyms. the notion that vince was out, here, beside her, at all, was astonishing at the most, but watching him take charge, of her drunken self, a job normally reserved for the male on the other end of the line, made her laugh. a giggle bubbling from the base of her stomach, taking the phone from him again.

thanks, vince, i owe you one. 

“you owe him one?–what–what about me!–i’m the one that has to put up with your bromance!–tell me the truth–you guys are totally dating behind my back–”

the complaint was sitting at the tip of her tongue, a reply that had, over time, become such a common part of their conversation. it was a joke, of course, one that underlined their long held friendship as well as subtly teasing charles’ and his jealousy. she’s glad for vincent, glad for their friendship, glad to have him. 

(there is a moment, a brief one, where she feels a hand travel down her back, towards the bottom of her torso. she ignores it, thinking, it must be the wind, or something else. until, without a doubt, the hand places itself on the tip of her rear, cupping her behind with an edge that would have garnered a punch to the face had she not be so drunk. instead, she freezes, struck, with pure shock.)

day, you went quiet, what’s going on?

“get–your–hand–off–me!” 

she screeches, as best as she can, in a room as compact as the one they were standing at, between the crowd that surrounded them, across the busy bar filled with busy orders, she screeches. soon the phone falls from her ear, quickly, as she whirls around, stumbling backward, straight into vince’s chest, grateful that his height offered some kind of barrier.

(the next few moments were a bit of a blur. one moment he’s there, the next, he’s gone. this loser, took one look at vince, one look at the expression on the male’s face, and slinked away to the corner that he had come from. she doesn’t really register what was said, she’s just happy that that guy had gone away. she realises, as she watches him retreat, that vince would be great, with or without her help, for her brother.)

DALENA, WHAT IS HAPPENING

“jas–you won’t believe–vince is my knight in shining armour–”

drunk addled mind, made for drunk addled decisions, eventuating drunk addled actions. in her happiness, she throws her arms around him, pulling herself close to his face, her chin rubbing right against his, before, with a laugh and a cheer, she plants a kiss on his cheek.

(he moves, in the exact same moment, just as she turns her lips into a curve and what was meant for his cheek, landed on the edge of his lips. they both recoil in initial shock, until dalena, first, of course, recognises what just happened and sings into the phone call.)

“I KISSED VINCE–I KISSED VINCE–I KISSED THE GREAT VINCENT ROGERS–are you jealous, babe?–you’re so jealous–because i got to kiss him before you–”