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bratkook · 4 years ago

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eleven months. (m) myg. one.

masterlist.

pairing: min yoongi x reader genre: fluff, slow burn!!!, eventual smut, warnings: none this chapter. word count: 2.8k author’s note: this chapter is on the shorter side, just diving into them meeting and giving you all a small glimpse into them as individuals! im really excited for this story so let me know what you think, feel free to scream about anything in my inbox bye ily lmao summary: it’s been years of yoongi living his routine life, accustomed to his pace of living, going with the flow and simply existing. until you come along. yoongi absolutely can not see the logic in the way you live, but he weirdly craves it. craves the feeling of not being afraid of not knowing what’s coming, being able to just let the cards fall wherever they land. and maybe you can help with that.

Yoongi loves the rain, really he does. The way the clouds gloom over the city, encompassing it in this darkness that reminds him of underexposed film. He wishes he could always see the world through this filter, always smell the scent of wet soil and tarmac as he makes his way through the streets. Something about hearing the soft patter hitting the sidewalk, bouncing off the rooftops and dripping from the gutters calms him. A soft smile spreads across his face as he exhales the smoke in his lungs, letting the stick hang loosely off his lips while his hands clutch onto his umbrella.

When he stomps his foot into a wide puddle, the cold water splashes up onto his ankle and he grimaces. He hates being caught in the middle of rain. It didn’t matter if he had his umbrella or not, or if he managed to bundle enough for the downpour, he hates stepping into puddles and getting his socks wet. Hates how some of the raindrops that slipped under his umbrella—since it was now raining sideways—have managed to make his cigarette slightly soggy.

Pulling the cigarette out of his mouth this time, he holds it in front of his face with a frown. It was halfway done but no longer burning properly due to how wet it had become.

What a waste.

As he passes a trash can, he stubs it out fully and tosses it inside, a small pout on his face at the loss of something to fidget with. But then he sees the glowing sign inching closer, the bright neon yellow standing out in the grim weather. The illuminated Rkive360 in the distance stops him from slipping out another smoke, choosing to stuff his unoccupied hand into the pocket of his jeans, moving his legs a little faster to get to his destination.

The bell at the top of the door jingles as he stumbles in, his foot tripping over the small lip of the mat by the door. That was a safety hazard he’d playfully bitch to Namjoon about later.

“Yoongi, hey!” When he balances out, closing his umbrella and giving it a good shake by the door, he looks up and grins at Taehyung. He spots him standing by a flat spread of clothes a few feet away, folding out some new items as he stares at Yoongi with a genuine smile. His curls flop over his eyes and Yoongi chuckles to himself as he wonders how a guy like him was here folding shirts when he should probably be the face of Gucci or something.

Well, that’s life.

“Hey man,” Yoongi mumbles out, his eyes catching the plastic bin beside the door that’s labeled ‘umbrellas here’ in a messy scribble he can only attribute to Taehyung. Not needing to be told twice, he sticks his dripping umbrella upside down into it and shuffles inside the shop, taking a minute to look around like he always did.

Record stores have always been his safe space, even as a teenager. The amount of time spent in one after school, loitering inside with his friends as he sorted through the racks of CDs and vinyl, exiting with his bag of new goodies that left him excited to get home and play them. It was god sent that his best friend decided to open up his own place years ago, keeping it fully stocked with anything he could imagine. Maybe Yoongi was a little biased, but this was definitely the best shop in the country.

It’s a welcoming place, pops of color in every corner, tall standing sculptures mixed in with displays of music, autographed albums and posters framed onto the wall behind the counter. It’s the full embodiment of his best friend, down to the tiny KAWS figurines perched beside the register and the music playing through the speakers. The small melody in the background fills his ears once the door is shut, recognizing the song playing as Dang! by Mac Miller and he bobs along as he approaches Taehyung.

“Quick question,” he starts, his hands coming up to shake at his gray hair that was slightly damp from the rain. Taehyung sets the shirt down, resting both of his palms on the table as he leans towards Yoongi with interest. “Any chance you guys miraculously got Seventeen Seconds in your stock this week?”

Taehyung hums in thought, his brows furrowing together as he tries to mentally sort through the massive boxes of new vinyl Namjoon had brought in a few days ago. New shipment comes once a week but every now and then Namjoon goes out of his way to find specific records, never missing with his selection.

A small flash of blurry trees crosses his mind and then he's smiling at him. “Yeah, we actually got it the other day. Pretty sure Namjoon hunted it down for you since you’ve been asking. It should be in the back.” His thumb points behind him, towards the display tables that held all the LP’s available at the store, a very familiar spot.

Yoongi mumbles out a thanks as he makes his way over, eyes already locked onto the bin that he knew would hold his prized possession. It’s not until he gets a few feet closer that he sees your crouched frame over a box, figure slightly hidden by a giant CD rack. You’re rummaging through the records, almost making him flinch when you quickly stand back up and find their proper spot in the display. You don’t notice him approaching until he’s right beside you, eyes once again glued to the bins lined in alphabetical order once the initial shock of another person subsided.

That’s when you give him a glance, sending him a soft smile as you slip the record in its rightful spot, crouching back down to grab the next bunch. His hand pauses on the edge of the bin at the glimpse of something familiar, momentarily distracted by your shirt. When you stand back up, feeling him staring at you, you slowly turn to face him once more with your eyebrows raised up in question.

He takes note of the tag clipped to your shirt, it reads Sana but he’s used to dealing with Sana and you are definitely not her. You’re new.

The smile remains on your lips as you rest your hip against the edge of the table holding up the record bins, preparing to put your best customer service voice to use. His eyes glance at the writing on your shirt again, cracking a grin when he confirms it's a New Order shirt tucked into your black jeans. “You like New Order?”

Your smile falters slightly, your arms crossing in front of you as you narrow your eyes at him in defense, not entirely sure how to take his tone. “If you’re about to ask me to name five of their songs I’ll have to walk away to avoid getting fired.”

His smile widens at that, soft and gummy, breaking his cold appearance as his arms raise up in front of him in surrender. “No, just an observation.”

Your demeanor softens again, your arms sagging back down to your sides and smiling once more. “Good, it's my first day on the job and I’d really like to keep it.”

Yoongi chuckles softly, going back to his searching for his precious album, leaning over the third bin dedicated to bands starting with the letter C. His nimble fingers flip through the LPs until he gets to the Cure, sorting through Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me, passing Pornography until he reaches Wish and his brows furrow, flicking back and forth as if the album he wanted would magically appear.

“Need help finding something?” You speak up again when you take note of him sorting through the same chunk of vinyl. He grunts lightly, letting the stack slant back in a heap as he purses his lips.

“Yeah actually, Taehyung said you guys got the album Seventeen Seconds but I don’t see it.

You step back from reorganizing the bin labeled S, trying to remember if you had brought the record out or if it was still sitting in the second box ready to be unpacked. Your brain was already overwhelmed from all of the information you had been given on your first day, trying to unscramble the entire backroom and it’s countless boxes—most of which were unlabeled because Taehyung said it’s not necessary since he knows where everything is.

Much like Taehyung, you recall seeing a flash of the album cover when you sorted through the new box of records, knowing exactly where it was tucked away since you had been the one to store it. You were under strict orders to not put it out on the floor, because according to Namjoon, if someone else took this album you’d be attending his funeral.

“Oh, uh gimme a sec.” You shuffle away, leaving him behind as you approach Taehyung, still folding away. “Hey, Tae?”

He hums in question, turning to stare at you with a small smile. “Whats up?”

“That guy is asking for Seventeen Seconds but Namjoon told me he’d be murdered if I gave this out to anyone.”

Taehyung starts laughing instantly, setting the shirt down as he stares at a confused looking Yoongi still standing by the LP’s. “Yeah, he was saving it for him specifically.”

“Got it, okay. Thanks.” You make a beeline back to the tables at the back, passing Yoongi with a polite smile. “Be right back!” you exclaim, wagging your finger at him as you make your way towards the back room, clearly on a mission.

Yoongi just stands there as you enter the employee stock room, not trying to cross any professional lines and follow you since you have no idea who he is. It's only a few feet away and you left the door propped open so when a few minutes pass and he hears rustling, followed by a heavy sounding thud and some curse words, he can’t help but wander over and peak his head in.

“You okay?” he asks, leaning against the door frame with a smirk on his face when he sees the way you’re frozen, one foot on the ledge of the shelf and the other on a not so sturdy looking stool, caught in the act of a poorly made decision. Below you lay two brown boxes that carry shirts you’re meant to unpack later, definitely the cause of the loud thud he had heard.

“Yep,” you confirm as you pluck out the record you need, shoving the box back into its safe spot and hopping down haphazardly. “Here you go.”

Grabbing the record carefully, he flips it over to skim the track list and smiles widely when he looks back up at you. That familiar warmth fills his chest as he holds the new item, making him feel the same way he had as a teenager when he bought his first LP. He had been searching for this vinyl for months now. It wasn’t as if it was no longer in production, he just couldn’t seem to find it in stock anywhere he looked and buying it internationally was the last resort he would take since the shipping fees were downright illegal. “Thanks.”

You’re already hunched down on the floor as you open up one of the boxes that had fallen in your haste to scale the shelves, deciding to just unpack in now since you were here.

“Yeah, no problem. Tae can ring you up at the front.” Sending him off with a smile and a wave, he takes that as his cue to exit, making his way to the front again.

When he leaves the backroom you flop onto your butt with a huff, your legs sprawling out with the second box in between them. You were hoping your words didn’t come across as rude to him but you couldn’t take the way his sharp eyes stared at you. Had he lingered any longer you would have embarrassed yourself, it was a miracle your footing hadn’t slipped on your way down from the shelves. You can’t imagine your ego being able to recover from a tumble like that.

Taehyung spots Yoongi leaning against the front counter, setting the final shirt down and going to stand behind it with a smile. “Did you find everything okay?” he asks automatically, the general phrases they had to use coming out without a thought and Yoongi scoffs, sliding the record across the counter and nodding.

“Of course I did, you let Namjoon know that I said your customer service is unmatched.” His finger gently rubs against the first black KAWS figurine, smiling at the remaining four as he remembers how Namjoon had excitedly told him that this was their friend group, representing them all perfectly.

Taehyung grins with a roll of his eyes, scanning the album and slipping it into the brown paper bag they provided. “Wonderful. Your total is 40,000 won.”

“Wow, your customer service voice is phenomenal.”

Taehyung laughs now, his nose crinkling up at Yoongi's sarcastic tone, watching how Yoongi grins back at him, succeeding in getting him to crack. “Fuck you, man.”

“Ah, there he is.” Yoongi hums with a chuckle as he pulls out his wallet, sorting through his bills and handing them to Taehyung. “Who’s New Order girl?”

Tae raises his brows as he enters the amount into the POS, the drawer popping open against his hips. “Oh, Y/N?” Yoongi only shrugs, you had Sana’s name tag on so how the hell should he know.

Taehyung stuffs the money into the drawer and slams it shut, ripping off the receipt from the machine and slipping it into the bag. “She just started today, can’t remember where she moved from, some place far though.” He shrugs as he hands the bag over to Yoongi.

The older boy ruffles his damp hair up, accepting the bag with his right hand. “Oh, cool. Well thanks, I’ll see you guys later then?” Taehyung just waves him off with a smile, similar to the way you did and he laughs to himself when he realizes Taehyung must be the one in charge of training you.

As he approaches the front door he pulls out his pack of cigarettes once more, sliding one out and slipping it between his lips. He finds himself looking towards the back of the shop again, seeing you resuming your organization, but your head lifts up as you feel him staring at you from his spot at the door. The spark of his lighter flashes across his face when he lights up his smoke, opening his umbrella once more now that he's partially outside. When your eyes meet, he smiles around the stick, giving you a nod before turning and walking back out into the rain.

You watch as his figure disappears down the street, his dark silhouette blending in with the rest of the people roaming the city, and when you can no longer see him through the store window you turn towards Taehyung. He’s stood at the POS, fidgeting with the screen, but when you call his name he glances up at you. “Is he a regular?”

He nods in response, eyes going back to stare at the screen as he begins to print out a sheet to fulfill the online orders the store received. “Yeah, he comes in at least once a week. Buys strictly vinyl. I think Namjoon mentioned he’s a music producer, or maybe it was a DJ, I can’t remember.”

Taehyung evidently doesn’t have the best memory, that much had been made clear in the short span you’ve known him. He had forgotten your name twice during your interview, Namjoon having to subtly repeat it for him, he had also asked you three times where you were from and at first you thought he was joking but when his face remained serious you realized he had really forgotten already.

“Hey, where’d you move from again?” he asks one more, genuinely curious as if you hadn’t told him a handful of times already.

“I told you, Iceland.” It’s a lie, but when he hums in thought—pretending to suddenly remember—you chuckle at the newfound way to mess with him.

He’s quick to start questioning you about Iceland, nodding along to the lies you spill while you both go back to your tasks of sorting albums and folding shirts. It makes your first full shift eventful, passing jokes back and forth as the sky grows gloomier. As distracting as your conversations get, you can’t help but glance up through the windows whenever a dark clad figure walks by, the thought of the sharp eyed stranger lingering in your mind.

#min yoongi #yoongi fluff #yoongi smut #bts fics #bts imagines #new #btswritingcafe #btsghostie #heartsforbts #bangtaninn #btscreatorscorner

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lucy90712 · 4 years ago

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georgenotfound- colour blind

Wc: 1857

Warnings: reader wearing a dress; one specific feature mentioned

George's birthday is coming up and I have no idea what to get him, I have already got some presents but I want to get him something that would be kind of special or show that I really care about him. When George isn't around I've been on call with dream to try and come up with some ideas but we never get very long to think before George comes back so its been kind of difficult.

I was in call with dream and sapnap joined to see what we were talking about and he gave the best suggestion ever. Colour blind glasses. What a great idea. I can get him glasses that will allow him to see colours properly or at least better for the first time and we can do a bunch of things together that he has never been able to appreciate before. While still in the call I ordered them to make sure I was getting the right ones, and now they arrive Wednesday.

This is so exciting I can't wait to do so many things with George that he isn't able to appreciate like other people can we can play Minecraft together, we can go to a park and look at all the flowers when they come back out in spring and my favourite thing ever we can watch sunsets or sunrises together.

Skip to Wednesday:

The glasses arrive today which I'm so excited about but I also have to be careful to not let George see them or the package because he gets curious when I order things but this time he isn't allowed to know.

I have been watching the parcel tracker intently for the last hour and now it should be here in the next 5 minutes. George is currently downstairs getting water before he has to go back up to film another video, I went to stand with him in the kitchen and we talked for a little bit before he left again. Seconds later the doorbell rang and I collected the parcel and hid it in the storage cupboard next to the door which George never goes in because he never goes outside.

Late that evening when George was done for the day he came down stairs and sat with me to watch tv with me. I was lying down on my own across the sofa but he moved my legs to lay down with me and cuddle which he likes to do after a long day.

"Who was at the door earlier?" He asked

"Oh just some guy trying to sell me stuff" I lied

"That's annoying" he remarked

After we went to bed and George was fast asleep I snuck out the bed to go and wrap all of the presents I had got so that it wouldn't be obvious exactly what everything was just incase he went in the cupboard for whatever reason. I am useless at wrapping especially by myself because I just don't seem to have big enough hands but I managed to get it done somewhat neatly or at least good enough that George wouldn't notice.

Skip to his birthday

It's George's birthday today and I couldn't be more excited, I woke up super early because I was so excited to give George his glasses and other presents. Of course waking up so early made no difference because George won't be up for another few hours. That man can sleep for forever with no issue at all, I wish that I could do the same but it just doesn't work like that does it.

George woke up about an hour after I did which I believe might be a record but thats besides the point. He moved over to cuddle into my side and kiss my cheek a few times before putting his head in the crook of my neck.

"Happy birthday love" I said

"Thank you" he said

"Let's get up I have some things for you" I said

He groaned but got up with me or should I say attached to me because he had his arms around my waist hugging me from behind as I tried to wash my face and brush my teeth. He only let go when we had to go down the stairs but as soon as we made it he picked me up and carried me around before dropping me down in the kitchen.

We worked together to make breakfast before I went into the cupboard to get all of his presents which I placed in George's lap along with his card. He read the card first which I really tried to put some nice meaning in because I want him to know I appreciate him even if I don't say it as often as I could. I watched his face as he read the words and his lips slowly turned into a smile and his eyes gleamed over.

"This is really sweet thank you" he said

He continued to open the presents leaving the glasses last which I was glad about. When he opened the last present and the box inside he looked very confused about which is understandable. He tried to read the label but he still didn't seem to understand, meanwhile I was aching to show him what they are so that we can do the exciting things.

"What are these?" He asked

"They are glasses that help you to see colours" I smiled

"Wait no way thats amazing I'm so excited to see the things you do" he said

He wanted to get ready for the day so that we could do all the things he wanted to with his new glasses. For fun I decided to wear a red dress that I like to wear all the time but George can't see the colour to the point that it just gets funny when he attempts to tell the colour.

Once the both of us were ready he wanted to go to the park to see what grass looks like so that's where we went and we sat on the grass looking at a flower bed and trees. He had yet to put the glasses on but I could tell he was itching to do it, I had them in my pocket so I took them out and slid them onto his face.

Watching him was the best thing in the world he looked all around mouth open and eyes wide under the classes from the shock of being able to see colours for the first time. He looked at the grass while touching it before looking at me and studying my face intently.

"Your favourite dress is red" he stated

"Yeah it is" I laughed

"And your eyes are as green as the grass thats amazing there so pretty" he said

"Aww thank you but I have to know what colour did they look to you before?" I asked

"Like a weird yellow sort of colour like a lot of things really" he said

His hands were put on my cheek and he pulled by face closer to his to look deeper into my eyes at their colour, it has always amazed me that he couldn't see green even though its quite a common colour but I never thought he would be so entranced with my eye colour. When he was done staring into my soul he kissed my lips sweetly and pulled me up from the grass so we could walk around a bit. He was so amazed by everything in sight which made us get weird looks from others but I just gave them a look back and they stopped.

We went back home after a good hour of just walking around places in London. Back at home we made lunch and talked to dream and sapnap who had been asleep until now. George was telling them all about the glasses and how amazing everything looked and he wouldn't stop bringing up how amazing my eyes were. He put on his glasses when both boys on the call turned their cameras on so that he could see dreams eyes seeing as they were green too but he wasn't as bothered by them.

"What's wrong with my eyes?" Dream asked

"They just aren't as vibrant and pretty as y/n's sorry" he said

Dream got fake upset with him and sulked in his chair which I had to try my best not to laugh at how stupid they were being. They wanted him to play Minecraft with the glasses on so he booted it up on the tv so I could play with him. We got into a new world in creative so we could just travel to places that would be more interesting.

It was in these moments that George realised that dream was actually green which was the funniest thing because thats like part of his brand but all George sees is a mustard yellow colour. We had a lot of fun showing him different things like the nether because for him they aren't red/ orange which again is an odd concept to comprehend.

We played for hours before dream and sapnap had to go and me and George were left to spend the evening together. I had promised George the other day that we could have whatever he wanted for dinner today and he wanted to order food so I did that for him and set up our small outside table to we could eat under the last bit of light for the day and then watch the sunset together.

The food arrived pretty quickly and we ate in the sunshine which wasn't the warmest considering the time of year but it was relatively nice today. We finished the food and I took the plates back inside and to the sink before going back out to sit with George who was now laying down on the grass staring at the sky which was beginning to turn slightly pink. I chucked the glasses at him and he put them on as I laid down besides him leaning against him.

We watched as the sky continued to fill with all sorts of colours from purple to orange like it does on days like this which is why I always watch the sunset whenever I get the chance. Once the sun had fully gone down George pulled me on top of him so that my head was laying on his chest as he played with my hair.

"Have you had a good birthday?" I asked

"I've had the best day all thanks to you and those amazing glasses" he said

"I'm glad you like them I just like watching your reactions to things" I said

"Well expect to see them a lot more because I love your eye colour and want to see it more" he said

"You are so cute" I giggled

That night we laid under the stars before cuddling in bed, it has just been a wonderful, day overall getting to spent so much time together and doing new things like being outside for so long.

#georgenotfound x reader #georgenotfound #mcyt #dsmp #george #gnf

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blu-joons · 4 years ago

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Secret Jealousy ~ Kim Yugyeom

As the music came to an end and Chan called the routine to an end, you spun out of Changbin’s hold and quickly spotted Yugyeom peering through the gap in the door. You looked quizzically over at him, as he moved aside as soon as he spotted you staring back at him.

You quickly excused yourself, heading straight for the door to try and catch up with Yugyeom before he got too far away, calling out his name until he eventually got stuck on one of the staircases.

“What were you doing watching?” You asked, standing yourself in front of him. “You could have just come in if you wanted to see what we were working on, I’m sure both groups wouldn’t have minded.”

His head shook, looking away from you as he felt a shameful red glow dance along both of his cheeks. Whilst he loved watching you and your group practice, knowing that you were rehearsing for a stage with Stray Kids didn’t sit well with him.

“I just didn’t know if I’d be welcome, with everything.”

“Because no one knows about us,” you clarified, knowing exactly what he was hinting at. “I told you I wanted everyone to know, I’d have no issue with you coming in and watching, you’re the one making things awkward right now.”

The two of you had been a popular couple amongst your label mates for a long time, they’d set you up on numerous occasions, each one under the impression they’d failed. Little did they know that the two of you were in fact together all along, choosing to keep it a secret for the sake of both your groups.

“You don’t look like someone who is upset because they couldn’t walk into the studio, why do I feel like there’s something more to this,” you pushed, nudging against his chest.

He tilted sideways to lean against the wall, scuffing his foot against the ground as he tried to find a way of telling you exactly how he felt.

“Why does it have to be Changbin?” He asked you, scratching the top of his head. “The two of you have always been close, why couldn’t you dance with Seungmin or Hyunjin instead?”

“Because I got partnered with Changbin. I think it’s good that the two of us are dancing together, we know each other well which makes the whole thing more believable,” you smiled, finding the positive from the situation as you always did.

“Is it supposed to be believable, or is it more than believable for you?” He questioned, bringing his eyes back to look at you. “The way you smiled throughout that entire routine as I watched seemed more than just trying to make a performance look convincing.”

Your eyes widened as you began to realise exactly what Yugyeom was getting at, shaking your head in disbelief that he’d ever think such a thing.

Just like with Yugyeom, and the rest of his group, you were close with other groups too. You’d always been taught to speak to people at the company in order for them to like you, and that’s what you did, with literally everyone.

“It’s not Changbin’s fault that he thinks I’m single so he can push the boundaries a little more, if you didn’t want to be so secretive, he’d be able to respect our relationship,” you snapped back at Yugyeom, making him jump. “You can’t use your jealousy as an excuse.”

Yugyeom sighed heavily, taking a step back away from you. “I wanted to keep it a secret to protect you, you’ve handled enough hate in your career without having to deal with the backlash from our relationship too.”

“But now I’m having to deal with the backlash of your jealousy instead.”

“I’m not jealous, I just think that the two of you shouldn’t be as close as you are.”

“That’s jealousy Yugyeom, don’t even try and tell me otherwise.”

From back down the corridor you could hear your leader shouting for you, but as you tried to pass Yugyeom, he grabbed onto you and pulled you back, refusing to let the conversation go without trying to sort things through.

His hand dropped yours once you were stood facing him again. “I need to go, and dance. And you’ll be pleased to know this time I’m not dancing with Changbin, we’re rehearsing for our stage. Maybe you can support me this time around.”

“Why are you being so snappy with me now?”

Your eyes rolled, glaring across at him. “Because you keep telling me you’re not jealous, when I can tell that you are. You keep blaming Changbin, and me, but this is on you. The reason you feel this way is because you decided for us to be a secret, and now you don’t want to see people around me, who are still under the impression that I’m single.”

He’d always been incredibly protective of you as he saw the struggles you weren’t through, but since the two of you began to date that emotion had definitely heightened. The slightest thing would set him off, even if, as you said, people thought you were single.

“I don’t know what you want me to do aside from tell people that we’re dating Yugyeom,” you frowned.

“You shouldn’t have to do anything; I trust that you’d handle the situation properly.”

“I know you care and being a secret does make things a little bit harder,” you smiled, intertwining your hand with his, “but I wouldn’t let him do something I wasn’t comfortable with.”

He’d been friends with Changbin to know that he always cared about you but seeing how close the two of you were always put Yugyeom on edge. He wanted to be able to tell everyone about you both, but only when the time was right.

Since your debut you’d dealt with a lot of hate, seeing how popular you were amongst many of the idols rubbed some of the fans the wrong way. Plenty of people had doubts about you, and you both knew announcing your relationship would only make things worse.

Once your shared stage was over Yugyeom knew he could live a lot more comfortably, as much as he tried to deny it, of course, he was jealous. He wanted to be the one to share the stage with you, not the one watching in the wings.

“You should probably head back to rehearsal before someone tells on you,” he whispered, “maybe I could come and watch for a bit though. They’ll be no judgement and no jealousy from me though, I promise.”

“You really think you’ll be able to watch without saying anything?”

“Maybe, but I’ll try for you.”

You took a step forwards, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “If you overreact, you’re going to end up exposing the two of us, you need to be calm to protect the both of us.”

“I won’t overreact,” he murmured against your lips, resting his hands on your hips. “I’ll be on my best behaviour, and support everything that you do, because that is what a good, not jealous, boyfriend does.”

“Trust in me, I’d never let anything jeopardise the two of us,” you assured him, “you mean far too much for me to let one stage risk that.”

He nodded, moving one of his hands so that it held yours, leading you down the corridor and back to the studio where everyone was waiting.

Just before you pushed open the door, Yugyeom untangled himself from around you, walking a few paces behind him as you encouraged him to come in. “Someone wanted to see what we were up to, do any of your mind if he watches?”

“Take a seat,” Changbin smiled, the first to welcome him into the studio.

Yugyeom nodded, smiling across at you as he sat down, “I’ll behave,” he mouthed across at you.

“I know you will,” you whispered in response.”

---

Masterlist

#got7 #got7 imagine #yugyeom #kim yugyeom imagine #yugyeom imagine #kim yugyeom #got7 reaction #got7 scenario #got7 one shot #got7 fluff #got7 drabble #yugyeom scenario #yugyeom reaction #yugyeom one shot #yugyeom fluff #yugyeom drabble #got7 yugyeom #kpop #kpop imagine

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queercraftingchonk · 4 years ago

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Shalibrations polyam chat~

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Who's active in chat? shalei_stan5ever, archangel, justShep

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shalei_stan5ever_Hey, so, I know we said we'd talk boundaries and wants and all that. Which is good! Important. But, ah...maybe we can just use a private chat for now?

archangel_seconded

justShep_alright, sure. :) assuming Liara keeps her promise that the Normandy crewmates' chats hosted on her encrypted servers aren't just feeding right into her SB inbox

archangel_hi Liara

shalei_stan5ever_keelah she better not! {(>_>)} i don't want other people to know about...this...until i've been wooed properly

archangel_plz don't ask me to go on a pretend blind date w/ u

justShep_hey!

shalei_stan5ever_a regular Bellicus, you are. But no, I don't want that. But it does feel kinda weird, that we jumped straight passed the whole dating part and right into relationship talk

justShep_i'm afraid Garrus and I aren't exactly the paragons of romance. We didn't exactly do the whole normal dating thing, either.

archangel_speak for yourself, Shepard. im a romance renegade < :-3

justShep_dumbass xD

shalei_stan5ever_why did I want this again?

archangel_my body???

justShep_sexual awakening? ;)

shalei_stan5ever_you two are. the. Worst.

archangel_u luv it < ;-3

justShep_we don't need to worry about labels right now. and i definitely want to take you out. do you want to plan it, or do you want to be surprised?

shalei_stan5ever_I might regret this--but surprise me. i can barely think straight as it is

justShep_course not, you're bi ;)

shalei_stan5ever_ {(>_<)}

archangel_i dont know if this is too soon, Tali, but, ah...how much research should i be doing on quarian suit seals and stuff?

justShep_good question! also: what are you comfortable with Tali?

shalei_stan5ever_oh...uh, wow, this question already huh. I'm, uh...hmm. you can do research if you want. the clean room VI you installed is pretty good. i...i can take care of myself.

justShep_what do you mean?

shalei_stan5ever_i mean that quarian envirosuits are very complex and i might prefer just taking it off myself

shalei_stan5ever_if it comes to that ever! at some point! Organically!

archangel_research helps me feel better

justShep_you *are* a pretty good researcher. even knew what a human clit was for our first time

archangel_SHEPARD

justShep_what? :P

shalei_stan5ever_is it uncommon for humans' partners to -not- know about your basic anatomy?

justShep_you'd be surprised the ignorance still in the 22nd century

shalei_stan5ever_oof. points to Garrus, then

archangel_i don't know what the points are for but i'm keeping score. how many?

shalei_stan5ever_...4

justShep_alright. here's another question: how do we all feel about spending time together? should dates always include all of us? is it okay for us to pair off sometimes? and should the other partner get a heads up about plans that don't include them?

shalei_stan5ever_i do NOT want to mess with what you and Garrus have. i don't mind if you go on dates by yourselves. i just want to hear how it goes {(^.^)}

justShep_can do. I think I'd prefer dates be all 3 of us for now, but eventually I...well, I figure I just enjoy when you two are happy. if going on a date makes you both happy, i wouldn't mind. i might get jealous if you didn't let me know beforehand tho. how do you feel, Garrus?

archangel_uh...i don't know. i just want us all to figure things out together for now.

justShep_alright. we can talk about things later if we like where everything is going. i suppose the first order of business is that date, huh?

shalei_stan5ever_maybe this weekend?

justShep_that could work. Samara is leaving on Friday. Mom is heading back out to help with the Horsehead Nebula relay.

shalei_stan5ever_Hannah will be happy to see Samara again

justShep_she said she isn't staying on the Orizaba tho. Councilor Irissa asked her to work with the STG to secure routes back to asari space and check on asari colonies.

shalei_stan5ever_that means she can see Falere again! i'm happy for

her

archangel_what about ur biotic training, Shepard?

justShep_Samara's given me the tools i need. i think. i'll keep training on my own.

archangel_ok. and Sat. should work. i guess we have some brainstorming to do, Shepard.

justShep_prepare for some soldier-grade wooing, Miss vas Normandy~

shalei_stan5ever_bosh'tets, the both of you <3

Excerpt from Ch.18: In the Name of the Huntress from How to Love a Biotic Goddess

#mass effect #mass effect fanfiction #how to love a biotic goddess #tali'zorah vas normandy #garrus vakarian #commander shepard #shakarian #shalibrations #mass effect text chat

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fyeah-bangtan7 · 4 years ago

Text

j-hope: “I’m not the kind of person to settle for their life as it is”

j-hope himself hasn’t changed since the days before his debut. The way he treats others, the way he feels about BTS, his passion for dancing—they haven’t gone anywhere; only their breadth has changed, along with the breadth of his deeply-held beliefs, his will, and his dreams.

“Butter” has been a huge sensation in the United States. j-hope: I did work hard preparing for it, but whenever I try to embrace an unintended success, in my mind I’m always like … It’s like half happiness, half a feeling that makes me think seriously about what I accomplished. There’s a sense of responsibility that comes along with such an honorable achievement. ARMY’s done so much to keep us at number one, and I’m incredibly thankful for that. At the same time, I also realized that our names are becoming known to more people in the world of American pop music.

It seems like the bigger the success is, the more things you end up thinking about. j-hope: In the past I would just humbly accept it, and it was something I worked hard for so I was happy to accept it—and that was somewhat immature, I guess, but now it’s different. I’ve been working constantly for over eight years, and it hasn’t been easy to achieve so much in that time. So from now on I’m tacking a question mark onto how I should carry on and maintain things the way they are and what attitude and stance I should have right now. It’s homework I haven’t been able to figure out yet, basically.

What effect do such thoughts have on the way you express yourself as an artist? j-hope: I’m also a performer, and I don’t think I take any performance lightly. Ever since we did “Dynamite,” the number of times I go over my performances after they’re done has gone way up. I felt like I’m responsible for making the dances stand out, so I thought I have to try my very best for that aspect. You don’t want to underdeliver on a performance when that many people are sending out their love to you. Each and every one of the members thinks so, and I think we’ve created an atmosphere for our practices where we are able to see how important these things are. After all, even if we don’t show it to one another, we all know how important it is to practice our performances.

It seems like there must be an atmosphere of understanding in the practice studio. j-hope: We used to have to practice for a long time, again and again, to sync up with each other. We’d practice for around 10 hours, review our performances, take a break and then get right back into it, rest some more and do it again. That was then, but now, after all that experience, each member knows where they need to focus, so we coordinate our dispositions and make intense breakthroughs and do what we need to until it’s just right, and then we take a break we really take a break. Now we don’t even really have to think about it. So it’s like, All right, let’s do everything we have to do quickly so we can hurry up and get some rest. This part doesn’t seem right though? Let’s get through this quickly. That’s how we do it. We’re more efficient about work and practice now.

Did that have an effect on you individually as well? As you think more about your performances, the parts you concentrate on might change. j-hope: The dancing is important, but I think I came to realize just how important the visual aspect is. The reason I change my hairstyle or whatnot so often these days is because I want my appearance to blend naturally with the song. Since I’ve always been a dancer I just kept working hard at the things I could do best. But obviously it’s important not to go overboard with the visuals, so I kept an eye on it and adjusted it for each performance. That’s the most important part.

Your dancing in “Butter” is one thing, but it’s also a performance where you need to demonstrate your character. What were you hoping to show off? j-hope: I wanted to show how much I’ve grown in “Butter.” The style is bold and revolved around well-tailored suits and the whole thing felt sexy. I tried to get that across as much as I could. And I learned a lot from watching the members who are good at expressing that. I took all the different ways I thought of that I could try out and melted them all down together, smooth like butter. (laughs)

What’s going through your mind when you’re performing, especially when the spotlight’s on you? Like when you do that attention-grabbing dance break full of slow movements in “Butter,” or the solo disco dancing you did for the “Dynamite” dance break at MMA 2020. j-hope: My mindset doesn’t change. When the spotlight’s on me, that’s an opportunity for me, in a way. It’s a chance for me to shine among our team and its seven amazing members, so I’m always on the lookout to make good use of such opportunities by doing my best. I shouldn’t turn down what I’ve got coming to me, and show off everything I’ve got to show. ARMY and the general public will be the judges, and if they have something to say about it, I have to accept and correct it, I think. I want to say that I developed my own type of growth for myself by repeatedly correcting and practicing and correcting and practicing. I’ve been dancing a long time, but I always feel like I could be doing more, so I put in the effort and I take pleasure in when I make something that turns out really well.

But, if you look at your “Butter” fancam, you continuously react along with the other members dancing even when you’re not the focus of the main camera. j-hope: I’m not consciously doing it. But these days when I watch overseas awards ceremonies or pop artists’ performances that they’ve shot on video, I feel like they don’t really have any heavily edited parts or quick cuts. They capture the artists’ energy while showing the whole scene, so I’m always thinking about how I never know where or how I’m going to be captured on film. So even when the camera is mainly focusing on Jin, in some cases you can still see me in the back, and so I think setting the mood in the background in order not to interfere with his part is an extremely important part of a good performance.

I thought you were very consistent. When SUGA comes forward to rap toward the end of the song, you keep tossing out little shouts to boost up the mood. j-hope: It’s fun, you know? Doing that. (laughs)

That sounds like a good balance insofar as you can continue to express yourself individually while staying devoted to the group. j-hope: I agree. I think that’s something I always had in the back of my head. But as I’m performing within this big group structure, making sure not to interfere with that comes before anything else.

The “Permission to Dance” performance has a different flavor than “Butter” in that sense. While “Butter” gives each member their moment to shine, “Permission to Dance” seems to place importance on the overall mood of the entire group. I feel like it brings out your personal trait of being bright and hopeful. j-hope: When we got the song, it occurred to me that I could just be myself in this one. There’s no need to act; I can just use the real feeling I get when I’m on stage. That’s also the message the song is aiming for, so I think it came across naturally. Like I’m happy, but also on the verge of tears?

Your dance makes use of sign language. Although it is a dance, it also conveys language, so I imagine there were a lot of things to consider. j-hope: Yes, there were. We’re conveying language even though we don’t use a lot of sign language in our dance moves. So although the song is nice and light overall, even when we were practicing we were saying how we have to make sure the moves are perfectly accurate. We thought we should understand the importance behind sign language to properly convey its significance. So we thought we should do our best to do the moves correctly while at the same time trying to fill the song with enjoyment and positive emotions. We spent quite a lot of time integrating the moves into the dance routine, and so I think we were able to show off our attitude about the performance pretty naturally.

I think your vocals and facial expressions at the start of the second verse of “Permission to Dance” help people intuitively grasp what kind of song it is. It makes me think of what you said in the “ARMY Corner Store” video uploaded to YouTube for your 2021 FESTA celebration of the group’s eighth anniversary—that you’re the “vitamins” for the group. j-hope: And I am. I used that expression because I feel like I consistently, and unchangingly (laughs) give the team good energy. I don’t know if I’m actually the vitamins or not. Looking back, I’ve always tried to give them good energy and keep them in a good mood, and I think it’s safe to say now that I’m one of those people who try hard to keep their group’s energy up. I still get a little embarrassed, though. (laughs) I wouldn’t say that I don’t feel any pressure at all about the label. All seven of us have to act as one for BTS to work, and that’s always on my mind, so it forces me to be careful that I’m not standing out from the rest of them. Because the team functions well when everyone has their own role. And because I always keep that in mind whenever I think, I should do whatever I can do, I’m able to contribute to the team and I think I ended up feeling a little more confident about the things that I found difficult to express in the past.

Was there a push behind that change? j-hope: I felt, and realized, exactly what I needed to do with my own personal identity and energy right after I released my first mixtape. From that point on, I thought that I should express my musical views and things like my energy regularly, but not in any intense way. Before, as time went by and the group really blew up, I think I had let go of a lot of the pressure to express myself. Then I started to feel like I wanted to try expressing myself in my own way, even as the team did well.

When you revealed your depressive side directly in the time from when you put out “Dis-ease” during the pandemic period to “Blue Side” from your mixtape, was that a reflection of that influence as well? j-hope: People’s emotions change every day and so do their feelings and the things they can accept throughout their lives, right? So I think the changing emotions I felt and came to accept as the group grew in popularity is also expressed by the way my songs changed. It’s also something I always spend time thinking about, but I’m just another young person living his life on this planet. I’m not really different from anybody else, which means I can’t always be as bright as I was on Hope World. So that’s why I tried a different approach to the things I could express.

What did you find out after trying that? j-hope: I ended up thinking about the shadows inside me. I didn’t realize it when we were promoting, but with the whole world suddenly at a standstill, we have all this time where we can’t do anything and I can see all the shadows underneath—sitting spaced out in the studio, thinking about what kind of life I’ve lived, seeing BTS’s performances on TV, I think, That’s who I was. The amount of willpower I found during this time has been tremendous. I figured I’d better use all those feelings entirely and all at once, that those are emotions and songs that could probably only ever be written at this time anyway, so I put all those emotions down like a diary, and “Dis-ease” was born. With “Dis-ease” as a starting point, I thought I could include stuff like my inner darkness, and that’s why I was able to release “Blue Side.

”What did you see when you looked inward? j-hope: I ended up seeing a side to the real Jeong Hoseok’s life that I couldn’t perceive before. I kept thinking about what life would be best for j-hope while we were working, so I wondered what Jeong Hoseok’s life would look like as a whole. While that was happening I realized I’m not just some always-cheery person—I experience hardship, too. So I thought I could grow closer with listeners by sharing little parts of me that I had been hiding away, and that it would be interesting to show people a side of me that’s different from their idea of who j-hope is. Most importantly, I don’t feel any resistance about who I am right now. As a person who makes music and releases songs about his personal life, I think this is all part of the process.

There’s a line in “Blue Side” where you sing, “Now I just want to burn blue to death.” It seems here, too, something of your shadow was revealed. j-hope: If you’re burning to death, it’d be very hot. But the parts I called blue are a place I consciously escape to to avoid things. It’s a place I escape to that I could safely live in and be swallowed up by, but I don’t want to do that. So I think I tried to show that I want to stir up my passion for the things I wanted to do even if I’m burning blue to death. To be honest with you, I don’t know how I came up with those lyrics exactly. I wrote that part a really long time ago when we were on tour overseas. I’m not a big drinker, but those were the first lyrics I ever released that I wrote while drinking. (laughs) When I write lyrics when I’m drinking I often regret them when I see them in the morning, but when I take a look at them again after some time, I can tell they’re lyrics that I could only ever write with the feelings I get at that time. When I release that kind of song, I get some kind of feeling. And when I give myself feedback about my own music, a version of myself who’s different from the way I was before I made the music emerges.

Is there anything else you’ve learned about yourself lately? j-hope: Um … I’m—what should I say—not the kind of person to settle for their life as it is. I could just keep living like I am and do whatever I want with my life, but I don’t know, honestly. I’ve already had so many amazing things happen but I want to take things one step further, as an individual and as a member of BTS. A thought came to me one day: Have I been challenging myself at all lately? Outside of making songs or dancing? But the answer was no. So I decided I would challenge myself and give some things a try, one of which was studying English. It’s still hard and I have a long way to go, but I’m trying my best given our current schedule.

What are you getting out of studying English, do you think? j-hope: If I can speak in English then I can give and take directions with English-speaking artists myself when I’m working on music. My thinking is that this is one channel of communication I can open that will open up more possibilities in my life. But it could end up being hard to keep studying with our current schedule (laughs) so even though I say I’ll do it, I might not be able to. Your mind could change at any minute and you could come to different decisions any time, depending on how you want to live your life. Right now I’m trying to do music for music’s sake, challenge myself with performances for performance’s sake, and try hard personally for BTS. And I’m working hard to figure out what I need to do for my next steps.

What do you imagine your next step will be? j-hope: I think my next step personally is to grow our music globally. I’ve been doing some self-reflection lately and there’s plenty that I want to do. I have a lot of dreams, too. Making it this far with the group, seeing the other pop artists we’ve been vying with on the Billboard chart, really left an impression on me, and now I’m more serious about wanting to express something. So for example, I’m dreaming of growing our music globally since the environment to have good synergy with foreign artists has already been built.

You, and BTS too, have worked your way up step by step and now you’re able to dream up new steps. In the 2021 FESTA “ARMY Corner Store” video, you said the present is possible only because BTS followed the path that it did since its debut song, so you didn’t want to alter any of your past. (laughs) Still, is there anything you’d want to say to your past self if you could say just one thing? j-hope: As a joke, I’d say, Hey, listen to this melody: “smooth like butter”—write that. If you do that, you’ll be number one on Billboard. I could do it that way, right? (laughs) But for me, even the parts of my life that weren’t good became opportunities for growth. So rather than telling my past self to fix something, I’d just tell him to believe in himself and move on with his life however he feels like, and keep working hard, keeping things the way they are. Other than that, I’d have nothing to say to him.

So how do you feel about ARMY now that they’ve climbed all those steps with BTS? j-hope: ARMY is absolutely … I feel like they’ve become an icon themselves. I’m so proud of them. They’re amazing. ARMY is like an artist in itself now, too. Sort of like they’re one big symbol of the era? ARMY is as famous as BTS now. I think we give each other good energy, and helped each other to make something good. It might sound obvious coming from a member of BTS, but if I were ARMY, I’d never be ashamed to call myself a fan of BTS. Anyway, I’m seriously … I want them to always know I’m really, really grateful for them.

#bangtan #jhope #m:weverse magazine #210727

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words-writ-in-starlight · 4 years ago

Note

White Collar ot3 number 14, 18 and/or 29 for the ship asks because you just reminded me how much I adore them today. Thank you and happy birthday!!

I cut this bad boy for length because I sure can go on about these three. That first one is basically a whole fic. Thank you, my birthday was great!

14) When one has a cold, what does the other do?

This feels like a great opportunity to talk about one of my favorite things to think about with this OT3, which is The First Time Neal Gets Sick, AKA The Time Peter And Elizabeth Almost Had A Heart Attack.

The thing is, they expect dramatics. Neal is someone who leans on dramatics as 70% of his social charms, and if you'd held a hot brand to Peter's skin while he was chasing Neal over half the godforsaken country, back in the day, he'd have said that Neal would be the type to wring every minor illness for all it was worth. Not, like, out of any particular irritation for that particular behavior--Elizabeth is the kind of person who gets dramatically sick even if all she has is a cold, and if he's being perfectly honest Peter kind of enjoys babying his wife for a few days--but just because. Well. All Neal ever does is make sure all eyes are on him, seeing exactly what he wants, doing exactly what he needs. It's the con he's best at, Neal's favorite magic trick: sweep everyone up in the delirium of those blue eyes and that shattering smile and take everything they've got in their distraction.

So anyway, then Neal doesn't show up to work. He's an hour late. Two hours late. By the third hour, Peter is silently doing the math for how far Neal could get on his anklet without setting it off, and then for any loopholes he might have missed--faking the signal somehow? Neal's passable but not phenomenal with computers, but could he have hired someone? Peter's never heard of someone pulling that off, but Neal's got an aura about him, that makes the impossible seem merely improbable.

It is very important that this be an issue of Neal trying to run, because if it's not, then something might have happened to him. Neal hasn't exactly been endearing himself to the criminal underworld lately.

At three hours and forty-nine minutes past Neal's appointed arrival time, Peter takes an early lunch break and goes to June's. He knocks on Neal's door for a few minutes, and then goes and politely 'acquires' the spare key from the staff and lets himself in.

Neal is asleep on the couch, buried in every blanket he could find in his apartment, and he blinks hazily at Peter for a second when Peter shakes him and then bolts upright so fast that Peter has to move or get concussed.

"Peter," Neal says in a good approximation of his usual good humor. "What are you doing here?"

"You didn't show up to work," Peter says, reaching out toward Neal's forehead automatically. Neal dodges him and Peter sees the dizzy wave cross his face. "Are you sick?"

"I'm fine," Neal says, and then immediately starts coughing, a wet sharp cough that hurts to listen to. "Sorry I'm late, I--fuck, is it past noon? Okay, just--give me a second, I can get ready to go--"

"How long have you been sick, Neal?"

It takes Peter the better part of fifty minutes to wring the facts out of Neal, and he does not like the facts, thanks. He more or less forces Neal back into the blanket nest on the couch and calls El, apologizes for interrupting one of her rare days off and asks her to bring Neal literally anything, and shuts down Neal's fourth attempt to convince Peter that he's fine.

Neal seems...really bothered by the idea that Peter knows he's sick, let alone Elizabeth, and Peter doesn't like what that implies. About anything. At least it doesn't seem personal--Neal doesn't seem to want anyone to know that he's sick, so much so that he's been taking double doses of DayQuil and drinking straight espresso in order to smother all his symptoms at work for the past three days. Peter does some quick math in his head about the number of DayQuil that would require and says "You're lucky you're not in the ER," and Neal says, "I know what I'm doing, Peter," in that voice that means he's thinking about getting offended.

"You're going to give yourself liver failure, is what you're doing. Why didn't you just call out sick, Neal, Jesus Christ." It's blunter than he meant to be--actually, Peter meant to let El work on Neal for a few hours before he came back to play Blunt Cop--but Neal looks awful and he has a fever and he's been taking ten DayQuil in a ten hour work day and Peter does actually read labels and Peter made him stay late at work two days ago because Peter didn't know he was sick.

And maybe it's because Neal's sick, maybe it's because the fever is blurring his reaction time, maybe Peter just knows him really well by this point, but he sees the second that Neal's face closes up and he goes from "defensive" to "ready to do whatever he needs to do in order to get Peter to back down".

And then Neal smiles, all guileless blue eyes and blithe schoolboy innocence, and he says, "Come on, Peter, you'd have thought I was trying to run."

It stings inordinately. Peter did think that, this morning, but only because Neal fucking vanished, didn't come in, didn't answer his phone, didn't even leave a message with someone when Peter showed up. If Neal had said he was sick, Peter might have come by to check on him--and sure, seeing that he was really sick would have put those concerns to bed, but--

"Besides," Neal is continuing, and his voice is starting to show the effect of the coughing now, and he's trying to get up again, wavering on his feet a little before he blinks twice and visibly forces himself to steady. "I'm fine. And even if I wasn't, it's what, seven hundred dollars a month? That's not covering a doctor, and it's not like I have pneumonia. It's just a cold, Uncle Sam, I can still go to work."

And then Neal gives Peter the slip while Peter's still sitting there, stinging.

And the thing is, he doesn't even know if Neal really thinks that of him, or if Neal just knew it would make him shut up long enough for Neal to walk into his bathroom and take more fucking DayQuil.

Well, fine, then. Peter can fight dirty too, and to prove it, he walks the ten feet to the door and leans back against it, just out of an excess of caution, as he pulls out his phone. First he texts his wife, because she's a very smart woman and deserves to have all the information. Second, he calls his boss, because he's already well outside his lunch break and he might as well do the thing properly. Neal comes out of the bathroom, wearing fresh slacks and an unbuttoned white shirt, just as Peter says, "Yes, sir, I'll keep an eye on him."

Then Peter hangs up and points his phone at Neal and says, "Lie the hell back down before I taze you. You're off until next week, and I'm taking the day off to make sure you don't go into organ failure. Don't you dare," he adds when Neal takes a purposeful step toward the kitchenette and its coffee maker. "El is going to be here with actual cold medicine in thirty minutes. Take those slacks off and lie down in your actual bed."

"I'm fine," Neal says again, as if he's not struggling with a shirt button for the first time since Peter's met him, including multiple occasions of being handcuffed.

"You're really not," Peter says, and then he pauses for a moment, and looks at the way Neal's fingers pause on the button, and then he says, a little cautiously, "And that's fine. Everyone gets sick, Neal."

"I don't need you to babysit me," Neal mutters.

"I'm only babysitting you because, apparently, you take life-ending doses of caffeine and cold medicine when you're left alone. Come on, Neal, this won't be the end of the world, El will bring you some food that won't hurt your throat and I'll let you make me watch one of your boring foreign films."

"I know your secrets," Neal says, and then pauses to cough up what's probably part of his failing liver, not that Peter is feeling any doom and gloom about this whole thing. "You watch romcoms with Elizabeth, she told me you enjoy things other than football and you'll never fool me again."

"Yeah, you got me," Peter says with a faint grin. He walks away from the door like he's approaching a feral dog, and closes his hands gently but inexorably around Neal's wrists, and then steers him firmly back onto the couch. Neal's skin is hot even through his shirt, and he trips twice, and he lets Peter push him down into the blankets like he's too tired to do anything else. "I'm going to go get you pajamas. Where do you keep them?"

"Second drawer," Neal says dismally.

"Okay," Peter says, and doesn't give into his impulse to maybe, like, brush Neal's rumpled curls out of his face or something. Half the reason that Peter caught him in the first place is because Peter knows when to press his advantage. He takes the win and gets Neal some pajamas.

18) When they fight, how do they make up?

Elizabeth is the best at this, because she works with vendors all the time and that makes her a literal professional at conflict resolution. She has a temper and she’ll lose her cool with the best of them, but she knows how to say “I need a minute” and then she’ll leave and come back when she can be reasonable. She’ll lay out what she’s upset about, hear the other person out, and then either apologize or expect an apology. Then she’s the physical touch kind of person after a fight--she’ll take Peter’s hands and link their fingers together, or wrap her arms around Neal from behind with her cheek between his shoulder blades, and just kind of...rest against them until everyone’s tension starts to bleed out of them.

Peter isn’t an innately high-empathy person and he knows this, so it’s sometimes hard for him to figure out when a fight even started, let alone how to fix it. He gets frustrated with himself for not knowing what to do, and then it’s easy for Elizabeth or Neal to feel like he’s mad at them for being mad at him, and then everyone gets madder and it’s just stressful. So Peter’s the type to ask explicitly “wait, are we fighting” because, first of all, he would like to know so he can figure out how to resolve it, and, second of all, he’s discovered that being clear about it will sometimes shock everyone involved into taking a step back and figuring out if they’re arguing at all or if they’re both just frustrated. After they’ve managed to figure out what’s wrong and talked it out, Peter’s an acts of service kind of person after a fight--his specific brand is to make someone’s favorite meal, regardless of who was doing the apologizing.

Neal is...not good at conflict. For obvious reasons, he’s inclined toward avoiding conflict when he can, and bailing immediately afterward when he can’t. The first time he actually fought with Elizabeth, she had to come to his apartment and hammer on his door until he let her in. Neal’s never really been able to argue with someone and then have them still be there except for maybe Mozzie, and it’s an extremely rough adjustment for everyone. It requires a lot of patience from Elizabeth and Peter, and a lot of anxiety from Neal, for them to find a balance about it. But Neal is a gifts person after an argument, once he learns to be anything after an argument, and not just extravagant things. He brings flowers or Elizabeth’s favorite mixers or one of the boring patterned ties that Peter loves, he brings a paperweight or a mug, a hair pin, a new set of dress shoe laces, a pair of beautiful earrings, a six-pack of beer, whatever hoves into his field of vision and he can afford to acquire.

29) Why do they fall a little bit more in love?

One time when he got home from work, Peter caught Neal and Elizabeth waltzing in the kitchen while the radio played the Top 40 Hits station, and they were giggling while they tried to keep time to Umbrella, and Neal was complaining about El not letting him play classical while she was cooking, and Neal dipped El so that she could wink at Peter upside down, and they burned dinner because they left the stove on and the three of them got takeout ramen instead.

Peter thinks about that evening sometimes when he’s stuck in traffic.

#white collar #neal caffrey #peter burke #elizabeth burke #ot3 #starlight writes stuff #headcanon meme #ask meme #I WAS GONNA COMPILE THIS WITH THE OTHER ASK ABOUT WHITE COLLAR BUT #THAT FIRST ONE REALLY IS THE FIRST COUPLE HUNDRED WORDS OF A FIC THAT LIVES IN MY HEAD RENT FREE #[sits the entire fandom down] neal transparently grew up with no one in his life who let him rest when he was sick #let's talk about that more #because i think about that all the time #anyway peter and elizabeth basically Install Themselves at neal's for the next couple days #why do i think neal watches foreign films? idk i just Feel It. he would watch all the cdramas and kdramas on netflix.#also sometimes he watches crime shows and critiques the criminals to elizabeth but they don't do that in front of peter #i think peter is the kind of guy who actually really likes romcoms but has trouble admitting it and el doesn't mind that much #elizabeth likes media generally i have Decided This. she just likes stories. anything good OR fun OR interesting will do it for her.#point is that she sets up on Neal's couch and pretends that she's just there to enjoy his movie collection #and if he falls asleep and she winds up with his head in her lap so that she can pet his hair and keep him that way it is Completely An Acc #peter Hovers when people are sick but in like a benevolent 'you always have fresh tea' kind of way #anyway kids don't take too much dayquil because acetaminophen is dangerous thank you for coming to my ted talk #anonymous #asked and answered

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megalony · 4 years ago

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Problem solved- Part 2

I wrote the first part of this new Harry Styles series then got caught up in other fics but I’m finally back to this series, I’ve had some lovely feedback already with only one part posted. I hope you will all like this next part.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogmeddows @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez @jonesyaddiction @ambi-and-sunflowers @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me @hellsdragon @im-an-adult-ish @crazylittlethingg @allauraleigh

Masterlist

Part 1

Summary: Harry offers for (Y/n) and her daughter to come and live with him and his son to help her out of a tricky situation and feelings soon start to develop between them both.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Harry I can't... can you show me again, please?" A sigh followed the end of (Y/n)'s sentence and Harry could see the frustration and nervousness in her flitting eyes.

This wasn't getting any easier for (Y/n) right now and Harry knew that it wasn't going to get easier when she was becoming very impatient. She wanted to get this right and do it all in the first day because the quicker she got this mapped out and remembered the easier things would be. Especially when the social worker came round to see them next week.

"Love, you know you can't do this in a day, don't you? It's gonna take a while."

Harry needed (Y/n) to know that trying to map out his entire house in her head was not going to be an easy thing to do. His house was much bigger than her own and whenever (Y/n) moved homes she had to take a long time until she felt at ease enough to walk around without holding the walls or reaching for furniture to remind herself where she was.

It felt unnerving but a little empowering to (Y/n) when she had lied to her social worker Joanne and said that she was in a new relationship and her and her partner had decided to move in together to make things easier. Joanne didn't even suspect that (Y/n) was lying in order to make sure she could keep custody of her daughter, she was simply happy (Y/n) was having and accepting help to make her life easier.

Harry had been all for moving in as soon as possible to make things easier for all of them and they had gotten all of (Y/n) and Ella's things moved in now. All they had to do now was get (Y/n) used to Harry's house and memorise a layout of the house.

(Y/n) had been to his house many times, but she had only been in a few rooms downstairs and she never made much of a layout in her head. She didn't know where all the pictures on the walls were, where the cabinets and desks and ornaments were. She had to remember exactly where everything was so she could manouevre around the house properly.

"I know but I... I want to memorise it so when Joanne comes, she won't be concerned. She'll see that I can walk round the house and show her to the kitchen without tripping or that I can make it to the washing machine or bathroom without a problem. I want her to see that I can adapt here so she knows how good of a mum I am."

(Y/n) pursed her lips as she sat down on the bed, turning her head to the left when she could feel Harry moving closer until he was suddenly sat down beside her on the bed.

Joanne had given (Y/n) a month to get herself sorted and moved in with Harry before she would come and visit and her visit was only an inspection to see the house and check up on (Y/n). She wasn't assessing (Y/n) straight away or her abilities as a mother or to see if Ella would be better with (Y/n) or James. She was simply there to help (Y/n) if needed and see how she was doing but (Y/n) wanted to show her she was fine and capable. She wanted to prove that moving wasn't too stressful and that she was coping with a new environment just fine.

"When she comes here, she'll see how well you're doing to adapt to a new home and she'll see how happy we both are that you and Ella are here. If you trip or get confused or lost she will know that you aren't superwoman, you can't be expected to know the house from top to bottom in a few weeks."

Harry gently eased his arm around (Y/n)'s shoulders, smiling down at her when she leaned her head on his shoulder, trying to accept and agree with what he was saying because she knew it made sense. But at the same time, her panic was making her desperate to do everything right and make no mistakes. Throughiut her life (Y/n) had to prove to people that she could do everything just as well as they could. She couldn't write but she could read brail, she could listen and imagine movies, she could imagine what things looked like such as colours and ornaments and pictures and people.

She could go to work, she could play music, she could go to the shops and figure out what was on which shelf and where the checkout was. (Y/n) could work out the world around her in seconds, she had gone through a pregnancy and labour and looked after her baby all without her eyesight.

(Y/n) was strong and could do anything she put her mind to, she just needed everyone else to see that.

"Can you show me the room again?" The way her voice was soft like velvet made Harry bite down on his lip before he darted his tongue out to run over both his lips. He was thankful right now that she couldn't see him or the effect her soft yet inviting voice had on him.

"Course, love." Harry cleared his throat when he realised how quiet and croaky his voice sounded.

Harry slowly got to his feet before he moved around when (Y/n) stood up so that he was standing behind her. He had to control his breathing when he pressed his chest up to her back so she couldn't feel any hitched breaths he had or the way his heart was fluttering in his chest. With (Y/n)'s lack of sight it meant that her other senses were how she saw the world and they were amplified. She could always feel when Harry was breathing faster or the slightest change in his stance and she knew exactly what it meant. He would hate for her to feel the effect she had on him.

To try and help (Y/n) learn her way around the house and where everything was, Harry had taken to standing behind her and guiding her around the house. He was being her eyes for her, walking her around the house so she could take in everything and try to remember it. Once she was sure she knew where everything was, she could do a lap of the house on her own and see if she was okay with the layout and where things were.

(Y/n) tensed her fingers and stretched them out to try and stop the nerves rattling through her before she felt Harry's hands resting on top of her own.

"Okay, seven steps from the bed until you reach the chest of drawers against the wall." Harry's soft low-pitched voice murmured quietly into (Y/n)'s ear where his lips were hovering as they walked as if they were conjoined. Their hands reached out in front of them until (Y/n) could lower them and feel the top of the polished wooden chest of drawers she was now using.

When deciding where to put her clothes (Y/n) knew it would be easier to keep them in the same order as when she was at her home. Her socks and underwear in the first drawer, vests and shirts in the middle drawer and trousers and leggings in the bottom drawer. All her dresses, pressed shirts and jumpers were in a wardrobe next to Harry's lined against the back wall and (Y/n) kept them in the same order as when at home to make it easy. Many of her coat hangers had paper labels on that had brail on them so she knew which item was which and what colour it was, etc,.

"Necklaces and rings are in here... the picture of us is there." (Y/n) spoke quietly and Harry assumed she was merely reminding herself of the items as she spoke. He loved watching and feeling the way her fingers skimmed over the dark blue metal box containing her jewellery or the picture frame he sat on the right side of the drawer.

Even though (Y/n) couldn't see pictures she still wanted them in her home and since this was technically her home, she wanted pictures of all of them around the house. She trusted Harry when he said which picture was better and he described them to her in enough detail to make her smile and imagine it herself.

"The wardrobe is over there... a-and the door is here." (Y/n) pointed out to the left before she started slowly walking towards where she thought the door was. Breathing in relief when she felt the door handle and opened the door, making sure she remembered the steps it took to get there from the chest of drawers.

"See, you're getting there, love."

"And you're sure us sharing a room is okay? I mean we're not exactly... together."

(Y/n) turned her head to the left but a shiver ran down her spine when she could feel Harry's breaths fanning gently against her nose and cheek. Even though she couldn't see him, she could almost see the way he was staring down at her. She could feel his stare burning into her features and it made her chest quake.

As much as (Y/n) was intrigued and nervous about sharing a room with Harry, she wanted to make sure he was okay with this. It wasn't exactly normal considering they weren't in an actual relationship.

This was all fake.

They were best friends living together with their children but pretending to be in a relationship to make sure that (Y/n) was able to keep sole custody of her daughter. Sharing a room was something Harry had proposed, he said it would be better in case Joanne wanted to look around the house and see where they were sleeping. And considering (Y/n) was used to sharing with James and having him there for help it seemed like a good idea. If (Y/n) needed to get up during the night Harry was there in case she tripped or had a nightmare which he knew happened a lot. It would also be easier for the kids to understand.

"Trust me love, it's fine. We've shared a room loads of times before and it's the easiest option."

"Okay then."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Elliot, honey do you want something to eat?" (Y/n) reached her hand out and gently ruffled his hair, feeling the fluffy strands of hair carding through her fingers like cotton wool.

The five year old seemed to be following (Y/n) around a lot the past two days she and Ella had officially moved in with him and Harry. (Y/n) had been a part of Elliot's life since he had been born so he was very comfortable around her like she was one of the family which was very good. But he was never normally this attached to her.

Moreover, he didn't seem too confused or intrigued by the fact that she couldn't see. Elliot seemed to take it in his stride, he questioned a lot of things because his capacity of understanding was different than the other kids but he never questioned why (Y/n) couldn't see. He even gave her some of the pictures he drew or painted at preschool even though he knew she couldn't see them. (Y/n) sometimes thought it was so she could appreciate what he was doing and how he was trying.

Elliot was a reserved child, he liked to be on his own or surrounded by family depending on his mood and the day he was having. It was also hard for him to communicate because it took people a while to understand what he was saying. He had a speech impediment so he kept his sentences short both so it was easier for him and easier for everyone else to try and understand him.

"Hmm, cheese sandwich please."

The answer was predictable but (Y/n) knew she had to ask him anyway. There were only a few options Elliot would actually eat and a cheese sandwich was what he mainly ate for dinner nearly every day.

"Okay honey, could you just find me your plate please?"

As much as (Y/n) was trying to get her bearings in this new home, it was much larger than her old home and there were so many changes. The layout of the kitchen was different, the drawers were different sizes and the cupboards were in different places with different handles. It was becoming a tiny bit easier to try and remember where everything was kept but (Y/n) was still unused to it all.

Plus, Elliot had specific cups and plates that he liked to use, he had one particular plate with his favourite cartoon character on that he always had his sandwiches on. (Y/n) remembered Harry telling her this but she couldn't remember where it was kept and right now she didn't know the feel of the plate so she wouldn't be able to find it anyway.

"Thank you honey, why don't you go and see if Ella wants something?" (Y/n) rested Elliot's plate on the counter in front of her when he passed it to her. But a rush of adrenaline coursed through her stomach suddenly when she felt Elliot gently and cautiously take hold of her hand and sway it between them for a moment before she heard him toddling off out of the kitchen. Something in the back of her mind told her that he had done that as a small gesture that he was there or a sign that he was about to go out of the room.

It didn't take too long for (Y/n) to find the bread and butter, it took a little longer to work out what object in the fridge was cheese but she managed to find it.

"Knives... knives?" (Y/n) mumbled to herself under her breath as she tried to find which drawer held the cutlery so she could cut the cheese and spread the butter but a gasp left her lips in shock when something sliced against her hand.

Pulling her hands to her chest, (Y/n) curled her fingers around her thumb, hissing under her breath before biting her lip when she could feel the blood starting to stick against her fingers and leak between the grooves of her hands. She kept forgetting this was a new home. Sharp knives were normally kept in a box in a cupboard so something like this didn't happen but it seemed too trivial and silly for (Y/n) to ask Harry to do for her.

"Hey love, Elliot said- are you alright?"

Harry could see that his voice made (Y/n) jump, she clearly hadn't been paying attention to the noises around her or she would have heard him approaching. He leaned around her to try and see what was wrong but his lips pursed together when he realised she must have hurt herself since the cutelry drawer was left open.

"Let me see." His voice was gentle and his hands were cautious yet smooth as they reached out and cocooned around hers. He slowly pulled her hands closer to him before he opened them like he was slowly prizing open an oyster shell to see the pearl hidden within.

(Y/n) silently let Harry tug her over to the sink before she shivered at the feeling of the cold stream of water battering against her thumb trying to wash away the blood.

"What does it look like?"

"It's not that bad love, just a small cut-"

"No, I meant the blood... why are some people so scared of it?"

Harry's eyes narrowed as he looked up from (Y/n)'s thumb to look at her enamouring eyes that were now darting up behind her eyelid and back down again rather than going from side to side. She couldn't always control the way her eyes moved and sometimes they didn't move at all, only really when she was nervous or zoning out.

It was normal for (Y/n) to ask Harry things like this, she saw the world in a sheet of darkness, her sense of touch, smell hearing and taste were her eyes and her imagination was like drawing on black paper with black ink. She had never seen anything before so imagining it was almost impossible.

(Y/n) couldn't imagine what her own daughter looked like, she couldn't imagine what Harry looked like or what a microphone was. Something trivial like a carpet or a pebble or even water, they were all things (Y/n) had no idea what they looked like and feeling them was so different to what it really was. She had a few friends who were uneasy around blood, it made them queasy just like the smell of certain foods made (Y/n) want to be sick or faint. But she wondered what was so bad about blood that made people feel that way.

"I... I think it's the thought of it, rather than how it looks. Blood is special, it's meant to be in your body, so when some people see it it's the thought that scares them." Harry knew that a lot of blood from a serious injury was a different thing but for some people, seeing small droplets of blood worried them because of what it could lead to. The thought of blood was worse than what it actually was or looked like.

"Can you describe it to me?"

(Y/n)'s voice was timid and it was so gentle and caring like she was asking Harry something so important yet in such a laid back, loving kind of way.

She could feel her heartbeat starting to increase when she felt Harry smoothing his thumb over her own, brushing away the blood in such a way that (Y/n) could feel butterflies flying underneath the surface of her skin and spilling out with her blood.

"It's thin, everything you hear makes it seem thick like gravy but it's not, it's thinner than water. It looks delicate right now and when it mixes with the water it doesn't really change colour, it just looks... thinner." Over the years he had known (Y/n), Harry had gotten rather good at describing anything (Y/n) asked, even trivial things that he would never think about describing before. Blood was definitely a different, more out of the blue one, but he was sure he had done a good enough job for (Y/n) to come up with some sort of idea or image of it.

(Y/n) didn't know how to respond to his rather beautiful description so she simply squeezed Harry's hand, feeling her heart jumping again when Harry pulled her with him away from the sink. It felt like the atmosphere was changing but (Y/n) didn't want it to. She wanted to stay in this thick, weird but rather intoxicating moment with him.

She relished in the feeling of Harry dabbing at her thumb with a towel, feeling the fluff smoothing against her skin and prickling against her cut skin before it was suddenly replaced with pressure when Harry wrapped a plaster around her thumb.

"All better." Harry didn't think before his next movement, he automatically brought (Y/n)'s hand to his mouth and pressed his lips against her thumb.

Even though the plaster was in the way, (Y/n) could still feel his lips against the pad of her thumb. She could feel the creases and indents in his lower lip that felt like a plush cushion against her skin. His lips were slightly bumpy in places from where he had been biting them out of nervous habit but they were still so delicate and plump. The more he pressed his lips against her thumb, the more tingling sensations (Y/n) felt under her skin and she could feel a touch of saliva when her thumb pressed against the inner parts of his lips. It made her feel like she was touching him intimately, that he was letting her in somewhere that no one else could go.

"Uncle Harry?"

The feeling disappeared. (Y/n) had never felt like something had been ripped away from her so quickly and rudely before now and she missed the feeling of his lips against her skin.

Harry was quick to pull away and spin round on his heels to look down at Ella who was staring up at him with her big blue eyes that were sparkling in the kitchen light. He guessed both his and (Y/n)'s senses had been dulled considering neither of them had heard or felt the presence of the little girl who had snuck up on them.

"What's up, little lady?" Bending down, Harry looked at Ella like she was the only person worth listening to in the world and she could see she had captured his full attention which only made her smile brighter.

"Are you mummy's boyfriend?" The sudden question floored Harry for a few brief moments and he turned to look behind him as if (Y/n) would see his unsure expression and tell him exactly what to say right now.

"Um, yeah he is baby."

"Do I still call you uncle Harry?" There was a surprised tone to Ella's voice but (Y/n) could clearly hear the excitement there which made her breathe in relief. She just had to hear Harry's answer to know if he was okay with her telling the kids this. They seemed to have silently agreed this is what they would tell them but (Y/n) knew Elliot would take it one of two ways, but with how he was following her around it might be a good thing to tell him.

Harry wanted stability for Elliot and this was going to help him with that as well as give Ella more security and stability by having someone her age living with them and having another father figure around, even if it was fake.

"You call me whatever you want, little lady."

#Harry Styles #harry styles imagine #dad harry styles #harry x reader #imagine #problem solved

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leportraitducadavre · 5 years ago

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Thoughts on Shisui ? As a character I mean.

Uhm… Shisui is not that much mentioned in the original manga, and I haven’t read Itachi Shinden, so my response won’t be as detailed as you might want to.

I’ve never truly understood Shisui’s purpose. I get that he developed the most powerful genjutsu, Koto-amatsukami, but… what did he do with it? Why was the eye so important and yet was never used properly?

It seems that Shisui was also a firm believer of the Will of Fire, Itachi was his best friend, and is likely that he was the first one who Itachi took as a role model, from where his own Will of Fire morphed. Shisui stating that if a civil war starts in Konoha other countries will come to attack is a supposition. Granted, a valid one to have, but we are never shown what Shisui thinks of the injustices the clan suffered. Furthermore, we are never shown what he actually thinks of his clan other than they supposed a threat, and that their name had to be protected. A young boy believes that his clan name needs to be more protected than the people actually integrating the clan.

He states that he tried to use Koto-amatsukami to stop the coup but that he couldn’t because Danzo stole his right eye, alright, why didn't he go to Hiruzen and told him that? He was a Will of Fire believer and Hiruzen trusted him, why didn’t he go to the Hokage to warn him about Danzo having the most powerful genjutsu that could control anyone to do his will? Wasn’t he worried that Danzo could control the Hokage? Furthermore, why did he give his left eye to Itachi? Why didn’t he use it with Fugaku? What stopped him?

Why did he commit suicide? What purpose did his sacrifice entailed other than make the Uchiha even more resentful towards Konoha? Was it because he wanted to prevent people from using his eyes? But Danzo had already stole his right one, it doesn’t make sense. He entrusted Itachi with his left eye in order to use it to protect Konoha and the Uchiha name, but Itachi didn’t use it at all! He couldn’t use it because Shisui’s attempt to cast Koto-amatsukami had made it unusable for ten years? It seems like Danzo stole the eye Shisui was using to cast the genjutsu (right one), because he said he couldn’t continue since Danzo stole it, but let’s pretend he was using his left eye, alright, whatever. Then why did he commit suicide? Why don’t help Itachi to stop the coup? Again, why don’t go to Hiruzen?

It made more sense if Itachi had killed him, as they established before, because perhaps Shisui wanted to save the whole clan and Itachi saw it as something that will undoubtedly just push the coup from happening a few decades at most but… that isn’t the case.

The background Kishimoto gave him seemed more an attempt to show that Itachi didn’t kill his best friend than to give Shisui’s character depth.

Even in the same chapter, we have these:

So, Danzo knew they were going to kill innocent children and was fine with it (btw look how Hiruzen slapped Danzo’s wrist by telling him he couldn’t talk like that IN FRONT OF Itachi), and in no moment Itachi told Hiruzen about how Danzo stole Shisui’s eye. Why? If he wasn’t so sure about killing his entire clan he should have, that way, he will reveal Danzo’s agenda and put him as a threat, while convincing Hiruzen that he could use Shisui’s other eye to force the Uchiha not to coup. But, neh. Nothing, nada, nichts.

Or even if he couldn’t use the left eye of Shisui, why keep a secret that Danzo stole Shisui’s right eye? Trying to blame everything on Danzo while showing in the same chapter that Itachi had a choice is quite the reach.

Even Danzo’s manipulation towards Itachi lacks any depth or power, Danzo states that they will have to kill poor Sasuke who knows nothing about the coup if Itachi refuses to help them, but couldn’t that be said for the other children Danzo was so adamant into killing as well? And Itachi thought of none of this? Couldn’t the boy who was smart as a Hokage when 7 see the lack of logic behind Danzo’s words? Shisui didn’t exactly tell Itachi to massacre his entire clan, so Itachi made that decision on his own.

Shisui’s participation in the manga makes little to no sense, had Itachi actually killed him to get his MS, then his characterization would have made more sense plot-wise, but then Itachi wouldn’t be the tragic-hero Kishimoto was desperately trying to label him as. Still, despite his efforts, he was so inconsistently written that it only made everything worse.

#naruto #anti shisui #anti itachi #anti itachi uchiha #anti danzo #anti konoha #anti hiruzen #anti shinobi system #uchiha clan #uchiha coup #sasuke #sasuke uchiha #anti uchiha shisui

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casually-inlove · 5 years ago

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19 Days Character Archetypes. He Tian

This idea had been dancing around the back of my mind for a little over half a year now. I wanted to compare and contrast 19 Days characters with the list of archetypes proposed in the neo-Jungian research and finally, I got some time to spare. For this post, I am going to talk about He Tian. Before I begin, however, let me clarify a few things. Since the subject is fairly complex, I do not intend to write in detail about the theory itself or the studies mentioned because that is not the purpose of this post. I am only looking to give a quick and basic run-down of the common archetypes shared by the 19 Days characters.

What is an archetype? An archetype is a set of predefined characteristics, a mould. Carl Jung described the archetype as a “fundamental unit of a human mind” or a “primordial image”. Simply put, the archetypes are the recurring and simplified patterns — but also symbols. According to his ideas, these basic symbols exist universally irrespective of epochs, nations, cultures, races, places, etc. Jung believed them to be shared by the so-called collective unconsciousness. However, even before him, the philosophers of old introduced the ideas of pre-existing ideal immaterial forms which shape the material reality. Since the archetypes are fundamentally primordial, they permeate every single sphere of human life. Art, media, movies, day to day interactions — all of them deal in archetypes.

While working on his research, Carl Jung defined the driving impulses of the human psyche. In turn, that data helped him come up with underlying basis for human behaviour. Based on his findings, Jung outlined the so-called primary archetypes. Later his research served as a basis for many other studies and classifications, particularly for The 12 Archetype Model, proposed by Margaret Mark and Carol Pearson in “The Hero and the Outlaw”. Naturally, there can be an infinite number of archetypes, each having their subtleties; still, the short lists give the generalized picture. Deconstructing characters to these basic blueprints is a fair game because a character, no matter how complex, is still an abstract entity.

For this series of posts, I am going to rely on the 12 Archetype Model mentioned above. The list goes as follows:

1. The Innocent

2. The Orphan

3. The Hero

4. The Caregiver

5. The Explorer

6. The Rebel

7. The Lover

8. The Creator

9. The Jester

10. The Sage

11. The Magician

12. The Ruler

Having examined this list, I am led to believe that He Tian primarily represents a mixture of The Hero and The Rebel archetypes.

The Hero and The Rebel

Let us start with the most obvious, the Hero. This archetype is closely associated with the ideas of masculinity, and thus it is also referred as the Warrior, the Crusader, etc.

The Hero archetype characteristics

Motto: Where there is a will, there is a way

Core desire: to prove one's worth through courageous acts

Goal: expert mastery in a way that improves the world

Greatest fear: weakness, vulnerability, being a “chicken”

Strategy: to be as strong and competent as possible

Weakness: arrogance, always needing another battle to fight

Talent: competence and courage

These go very much in line with what we know of He Tian. His childhood flashbacks suggest that he indeed intends to be “the strongest”.

The failure to protect the puppy, the harsh words of He Cheng — all of it led him to become fixated on becoming the Hero, the one who swoops down and single-handedly saves the day. It is in the way he stands in to fight She Li for Guanshan or rushes to prevent Jian Yi from getting kidnapped. It is in the way he attempts to resolve the other boy’s problems with debt collectors. It is in the way he deflects the coke can and decides to meet his father for Guanshan's sake.

He Tian yearns to be the strongest because the alternative — being weak and helpless — has already scarred him in the past. Whatever joy he used to have as a child was taken from him, because he was not strong enough to handle things on his own. He entrusted the puppy to his brother and the man betrayed him — or so He Tian was led to believe.

More than that, he wants Guanshan to come to him, whether it’s talking about his complicated past or whether it’s about learning the guitar.

It goes without saying that He Tian is almost eerily good at anything he does — as such he believes he can learn music from scratch in a short time. That speaks volumes about the confidence he has in his capabilities, and yet to an outsider's perspective this might come off as blatant posturing.

Apart from almost baffling self-confidence that he shows, He Tian is also known for his nearly abnormal physical prowess. He managed to hold his ground against several armed adults (which is probably just flawed writing) and way back he even managed to impress Guanshan by effortlessly hopping over the school fence, so it makes one wonder what kind of training he had undergone.

However, the truth is, The Hero is also susceptible to weakness. In his work, Carl Jung has coined the term “The Shadow”, which became a stand-alone archetype in his list. The Shadow stands for our suppressed, ignored or denied traits, in other words, it is everything that we cannot see or refuse to see in ourselves. The concept of this hidden darkness has been since absorbed into a number posterior studies, such as Robert Moore’s and Douglass Gillette’s “King Magician Warrior Lover”, where they introduce triadic paradigms of the archetypes and their corresponding active and passive shadows. Notably, they link the aforementioned archetypes with the concept of “masculinity” and its development throughout adolescence into adulthood.

What is The Shadow to The Hero archetype? When The Hero cannot fulfill their purpose, they surrender to the shadow. The dark side takes their best qualities and transforms them into flaws. The confidence thus turns into arrogance and hubris, courage into foolhardiness, competence into bravado and posturing — or the complete opposite happens. Courage transforms into cowardice, confidence into insecurity, etc.

Whereas He Tian is concerned, before he had developed an emotional attachment to another person (and by doing so gained something to cherish), we could observe some of the definitive shadow patterns in his behaviour. Until he recognized Guanshan as someone to know and to protect, he used to goad the other boy, if not outright assume the position of his superior, demanding obedience and subservience. He Tian also used the snide tone when talking to Guanshan, and he did so in order to establish his power to steer the boy in what he deemed to be the right direction — that is attempting to curb Redhead’s short temper and brashness. And in doing so, he was not shy of subtly threatening the boy or using physical force to make his point.

To be in touch with his masculinity — that is to channel his energy constructively in order to feel strong and needed, — he required to have someone he could play the knight for. Once he could direct his inner impulses properly, his violent tendencies have subsided.

Even so, in his aspiration to be the ultimate good — driven by the hatred for his family background, perhaps — He Tian often opted for doing rash, foolhardy stuff, such as attempting to take on the debt collectors all by himself, for instance. Sure, he would have gotten to “save the day” and be the hero, but that single moment would have cost him his life.

Now, having glanced at the Hero archetype, let us move to the next one, The Rebel. This archetype is characterized by the following:

The Rebel archetype characteristics

Motto: Rules are made to be broken

Core desire: revenge or revolution

Goal: to overturn what is not working

Greatest fear: to be powerless or ineffectual

Strategy: disrupt, destroy, or shock

Weakness: crossing over to the dark side, crime

Talent: outrageousness, radical freedom

The Rebel is also known as the outlaw, the revolutionary, the wild man, the misfit, or iconoclast.

Indeed, He Tian rebels quite a bit in the manhua. First and foremost, his rebellion is directed at his flesh and blood — Mr He and Cheng.

Not much is known about He Tian’s childhood, yet it is pretty clear that he hadn’t exactly had a happy one. His mother died early on and he was left to grow up practically without parents since Mr He is a textbook absentee father. From what He Tian knows, his brother backstabbed him, an act that keeps plaguing their relationship years after, while his father is labeled as a monster — someone who is ostensibly capable of eliminating people who disobey.

It is also clear as the day that young He Tian is traumatized by whatever dealings his family conducts behind the scenes. At some point, we even witnessed a scene where HT is tossed out of the burning yacht, while his brother is covered in blood and holds a gun. A violent experience such as this inevitably leaves a scar — and actually get to see it. He Tian is shown to experience something closely reminiscent of PTSD, recurring violent nightmares, the fear of the dark, etc.

Back in the present day, we see that He Tian wants to put distance between himself and his family. It manifests in living separately from his kin and cutting the contact to a bare minimum. He makes a point of stating that he is independent, severing the ties he deems to be dysfunctional. Yet the same time He Tian cannot quite let go of his familial bonds. In particular, whenever He Cheng is concerned, the boy sneers and flagrantly shows his impetuousness and disrespect.

In many ways he’s practically stomping his feet, attempting to show that he doesn’t need his brother, yet by doing this he proves the opposite: he still yearns his bitter feelings to be validated by He Cheng — and by his father too, to an extent.

This results in bratty behaviour on his part: He Tian orchestrates property damage at the He mansion, impishly rejects Cheng’s gestures of goodwill, etc.That is the work of the Rebel’s “shadow” counterpart — when the desire to overturn things and break free takes on darker shade and slips into dangerous territory. Resisting and opposing then becomes a way of life, and only through it does the “shadow rebel” feel certain of their self.

He Tian pushes at the boundaries of what is permitted and socially acceptable to feel in control of the situation. If we examine the way He Tian interacts with others, we will see that the shadow manifests in many other ways. He Tian is compelled to stir and instigate others, using his wit and cunning to make them uncomfortable or confused, and thus easy to manipulate to his amusement.

Speaking of socially acceptable behaviour, Chinese culture places a great emphasis on the respect towards senior family members — and I probably cannot stress this enough — He Cheng lets him get away with this lack of reverence. Deep inside He Tian seeks his brother’s approval and attention, but rejects it when he is given, and in the process he sets out to tear down anything that displeases him.

Establishing a connection with Guanshan let He Tian fulfill his Hero potential and channel his energy in constructive ways, and yet at the same time, it allowed him to tap further into his “Shadow” Rebel tendencies. That is, to it rub in into He Cheng’s face that he’s no longer welcome or needed.

Naturally, as a character, He Tian possesses traits of other archetypes — such as The Lover, for instance — albeit to a lesser extent, so I’m not going to dive deep in here. Let me just mention, that as a Lover, He Tian is compelled to increase his attractiveness to his love interest — we often see him fishing for compliments and validation on Guanshan’s part, which underscores his inner need to feel needed and wanted, yet also turns into clinginess at times.

With that, this quick rundown of He Tian’s character patterns is complete. All in all, you could say that He Tian is fairly archetypal at his core, and yet it’s the combination of these “trite” features that mark him as an utterly realistic and believable character. It is because we’ve seen these archetypes countless times before that He Tian appears to be true to life.

Lastly, this is going to turn into a series of posts, but right now I cannot say when the next part is going to be up since writing this took me some time. In the meantime, you can read a bit more below ✨.

A bit more about He Tian | Support me at Ko-Fi

#19 days #he tian #long post #finally published

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worldwidesonyeondan · 5 years ago

Text

Canvas// Jeon Jungkook (m)

(Part of the “Dream Career” Series)

In which Jeon Jungkook is a soft tattoo artist, and you are a very clumsy girl.

⤿ Pairing: Tattoo Artist!Jungkook x Reader

⤿ Word Count: 5,086

⤿ Genre: Fluff, Smut

⤿ Warnings: Oral (F Receiving), Fingering, Unprotected Sex

⤿ A/N: Aaahh! Finally the first part of this series! I hope you guys enjoy this ^.^

You stood at the door of the tattoo parlor, its presence was so familiar to you, yet so curious all at once. It looked the same as it always had since you were young. The windows were adorned with what you could only presume to be tattoo designs done by various artists in the shop, and the building itself was illuminated by the soft glow of the LED sign atop its roof. However, it certainly put off the unmistakable threatening aura and stench of regret that you always got from tattoo shops.

Walking through these doors and getting a tattoo was a decision you couldn’t reverse, and you knew this very well. Nights of staying up late with your friends in your younger years and laughing at the “top ten biggest tattoo mistakes” were enough to teach you this. However, you also knew you weren’t the type to back down from a dare, and a dare this was, so you couldn’t go back on it.

With a heavy heart and shaking hands, you pushed open the door of the shop. You had half a mind enough to tell you to turn around and get out of there, dare is damned, but you knew you were too late when you heard the ting of the bell that would signify to the workers a customer had walked in.

Your brain barely had time to process before it felt like you had walked into a different world; you could’ve sworn you were having a sensory overload. The shop itself was relatively clean, and they had their licenses on display above the check-in desk, validating that you would, in fact, not go home with any weird skin rashes. It had the nauseating smell of disinfectant, which in this case you presumed to be a good thing. Several books were open for looking at on top of the desk, labeled by older works to newer ones.

You knew that this shop had quite the reputation in your little old town, knew that ever since Woo-Jin passed away it had been struggling with business. Woo-Jin was the heart and soul of this whole business, the sweetest old man with a love for his job. Unfortunately, he passed away a few years ago due to a fishing boat accident. His death left not only a hole in the heart of the community, but a lingering feeling of something missing in the shop. Spread of word in the town told you that his grandson had taken over the shop, and spread of rumor told you that he was struggling. A lot of Woo-Jin’s loyal customers stopped coming in, saying that the boy was sweet but it just wasn’t the same.

Shaking yourself from your thoughts, you realized you had no clue what you wanted to get. You simply came in here for a dare. You took tentative steps closer to the check-in desk and reached out for the binders scattered on top, hoping to see some design of interest or just anything to give you an idea really. However, it seemed that luck was not on your side as you didn’t even get a chance to look at the designs before you knocked over the stack of binders that had previously been by your elbow. Heads turned your way as you bend down shakily to clean up your mess.

It seemed you had scattered some papers everywhere, with no clue of the order that they belonged in. The longer you took the more your embarrassment grew. You couldn’t help but feel like everyone was watching. You were in such a panicked state, you barely noticed the hands that had come beside you in assistance to pick up the papers. As the last paper was taken from beneath you and put in its rightful place on the desk, you lifted your head with a beating heart and a cherry red face.

“Hey now,” the person’s voice chuckled, “No need to be embarrassed.” The voice belonged to a man. It was soft and warm, the type of voice that could make you feel peaceful and calm, make everything seem like it’s okay. Slowly, you tilted your head up to meet eyes with quite possibly the most beautiful man you had ever seen. His appearance was very soft, innocence is a prominent feature, but he also had an edge to him that you couldn't quite describe. He was almost god-like. Some sort of mythical being that you would learn about from Greek mythology.

“Are you okay?” he asked, wondering if he had frightened you, a safe assumption based on your speechless nature.

You suddenly remembered what was happening and felt even more embarrassed. “Yes, I’m sorry. I was going to clean it up, I just didn’t know where anything went.” You bowed in apology. “I’m sorry to burden you.”

The man smiled at you and you could’ve sworn you physically felt your breath leave your lungs. “It really is okay. It’s not the first time this has happened. I do it myself more than you would think.”

When your breathing had calmed down a bit, you looked up to meet the man in the eyes properly, ditching the red face and sweaty palms. This didn’t make him any less ethereal. You almost wanted to pinch yourself to make sure you weren’t dreaming. Before you could thank him or even get his name, there was a yell from behind the curtain where tattoos are done. He groaned and rolled his eyes before setting the binders down and taking off to go deal with the situation.

You stood at the desk for a few moments longer, before the lingering anxiety finally got to you. You would not be getting a tattoo today. Making your way back to your home, you couldn’t help but think maybe you had made a mistake. Your friends would never let you live this one down, and besides, if you had gotten the tattoo maybe you could’ve had the chance to have an actual conversation with the cute worker.

Once you entered your home, you threw off your shoes and flung them up against the entrance that connected the living room to the dining room. You went to your bedroom and changed into more comfortable clothes and flung yourself down on the bed. Soon, you slipped into unconsciousness, the last thing on your mind for the night is the sweet voice of the young man you met today.

When you woke up the next morning, the sun was shining through your windows in contrast to the somewhat cloudy weather of yesterday. It seemed what was supposed to be a short nap had turned into your night’s sleep. You didn’t even get to eat dinner. You sat up and stretched, giving your eyes time to adjust to the light. Slipping out of bed, you made your way to the kitchen. You weren’t in the mood to cook, so you settled for a banana laying out on the counter.

As you sat on your couch eating your breakfast, you couldn’t help but think about the events of yesterday. You wondered if the man had noticed you left, or if he cared. As you ate, your mind drifted off somewhere else when you noticed something missing. On your finger was always a golden ring with a little heart, just a plastic one, nothing of real value but rich in sentimental value as it was a gift from your father from before he went off to the military. Today it was missing. You began to rack your brain about what could have happened with it before going off to your bedroom to see if you had taken it off last night.

Your eyes scanned the tops of your dresser and your floor, hoping to find a trace of your ring. You knew it was highly probable that you dropped it outside, but you pushed that thought to the back of your mind and kept looking. As you searched your carpet on your hands and knees, you remembered a crucial detail from yesterday. This is exactly what you were doing when you dropped all the papers. The ring must have slipped off of your finger in your haste.

Cursing under your breath you got up and checked your phone, seeing that the time was only nine in the morning. You hoped the little shop was open this early. You made your way back to the very place you had been yesterday, only to find the doors locked. Getting frustrated at yourself for losing the ring in the first place, you turned around to walk away, before being stopped by a familiar voice. The voice was smoky and silvery, and as soon as you heard the honey-laced tone, you knew it was the man from yesterday. As you turned back around to face him, his gaze met yours and your breath hitched in your throat. You thought yesterday’s anxiety was because of your embarrassment, turns out he just took your breath away at any given time. He was just as pretty as when you first saw him.

“You know we are closed right?” He asked with a small chuckle. He must have noticed your attempt at opening the door and you must have not noticed the LED “closed” sign flashing bright on the door.

You flushed red with embarrassment. “Sorry. Guess I didn’t see the sign…” You professed sheepishly.

He shook his head with a small smile. “You’re okay. I’m assuming you’re here for your ring.”

“Ah, yes, actually.” You breathed out a sigh of relief. So you did drop it here. He smiled and pulled it out of his pocket.

“You know, you’re really lucky I’m the one that found this. There can be some not-so-nice people that walk through those doors.”

“Thank you, again...where did you find this anyways?”

His gaze never seemed to leave yours as he spoke. He nodded his head at the shop’s door. “On the floor by the front desk. You must have dropped it when you knocked all of the papers over.” You lifted up your head to quickly apologize again, but a glance of the smirk on his face let you know he was joking. Your body relaxed.

“I’m uh...sorry about that...again.” You twisted your lips in a train of thought. “Why did you keep my ring? You said to yourself that most people would have taken it home and pawned it for some cash. But you didn’t.”

“I guess I’m just not that kind of guy. Besides, Pops would’ve killed me if he found out I was doing something like that.” A little chuckle escaped him. You figured by Pops he was referring to Woo-Jin, the previous owner of the establishment and his grandfather. You figured it would be a sore spot to bring up, and as you looked at his face you could see that even if he didn’t show it, his joke had hurt him a little.

“Would you like to go get a cup of coffee with me? If not for anything to at least let me thank you.” The offer flew out of your mouth before you could even think about it. Maybe it was the hurt expression on his face you knew all too well, or maybe it really was just you wanting to thank him for finding your ring, but you wanted to spend more time with him. Though he was surrounded by people everyday in his line of work, something about him seemed so… lonely.

His gaze met yours and his eyes lit up. He gave you a nod and the slightest smile. You let him follow you to the coffee shop; he seemed to stay close but not too close, as if he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.

When you arrived at the shop, you grabbed the door and held it open for him. “After you.” You smiled brightly, gesturing with your hand for him to go inside. He stepped in with a grumble, something about how it was his job to open the door for you, being a man and all. You giggled at his little comment. “It’s the twenty-first century, women can hold the door for men too. It’s called being nice.” He blushed a bit, not realizing you had heard his comment. “Now. What would you like to drink?”

After ordering your drinks, you two went to find a table while they were being prepared. You made small talk for a while, but you couldn’t help but notice him staring at your ring, which had taken back its rightful place on your finger the instant he had given it back.

“My grandmother gave it to me.” You commented, scaring him a bit since he didn’t seem to know you realized his staring.

He nodded in understanding. “Were you close to her?”

“I think we were pretty close. She was like my mother in a way.” You smiled softly. Most people would be hurt from talking about a loved one that had passed, but talking about your grandmother just made you happy, sort of a sense of comfort.

“I’m sure she was a lovely woman...to raise someone like you.”

“What do you mean?”

A light shade of red dusted across his cheeks. “Oh… well, I just mean that you have a very kind soul… I guess.” He gave you a sheepish smile and looked away, too embarrassed to maintain eye contact.

Before long, the coffee had arrived, and you both continued to make small talk over your cups. About mid-way through, something you hadn’t noticed before caught your attention. His coffee. It was black. Bitter, tasteless, black coffee. You scrunched up your nose in disgust. Who willingly drinks coffee like that?

“You like your coffee black?” you asked, a sort of bewildered tone to your voice.

He nodded shyly. “I’ve never been into sweeter drinks. It seems like every time I try to order one with something in it, it’s just overbearing, and it gives me a headache.”

You clicked your tongue. “Then you, my friend, have been drinking the wrong coffee.” You picked up your own cup, tilting it towards him. “Try this. It’s cappuccino. There isn’t much sugar in it and the way this place makes it is,” You stopped and brought your fingers to your mouth, making a kissing sound, “chef’s kiss.”

He just chuckled, taking your cup and taking a small sip from it. A delighted noise conjured up in his throat and you giggled. He looked up at you after hearing your giggle, a soft smile appearing on his face. “You weren’t wrong. This is pretty good. Has nothing on black coffee though.”

You just shook your head and made a disgusted sound. “You don’t deserve my coffee dates if that’s your opinion.” You stared at him for a moment, before realizing you two had not yet exchanged some very important details. “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“I’m Jungkook.” He offered with a smile.

“Jungkook…” You said softly, trying to engrain the name into your memory. “Well, it’s nice to meet you Jungkook.” You grinned at him and he gave you a grin back.

“You too, Y/N.,” he said softly as if the name coming off of his lips was pure joy to him, and you couldn’t deny that your name sounded a lot nicer coming from him. It was strange how you felt a connection to him, only having known him for maybe an hour at most.

You ended up spending the rest of your day talking to Jungkook about pretty much everything that comes to your mind. The coffee had been finished long ago, but the conversation never ended. Before you knew it, Jungkook was looking out the window at a setting sun. You looked out the window yourself with a sigh. “It’s gonna be dark soon.”

The sound of your voice caught his attention, and he nodded somewhat sadly at you, having had as much fun talking to you as you did with him. You both stood up, making your way to the door. He halted his movements for a moment, as if deciding whether or not he should say what he was thinking. Ultimately, he decided on speaking. “Thank you for this Y/N. You’re welcome back at the shop anytime.”

You shook your head and waved him off. “Nonsense. You’re the one that held my ring for me. I should be thanking you.” You smiled warmly at him. “But...I’ll be sure to stop by sometime.” He looked up at you, seemingly taken aback by your answer. He bowed his head and opened the door for both of you.

“I’ll see you around, Y/N.” He said, giving you one last shy smile before you two went your separate ways.

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Days seemed to turn into weeks with your budding new friendship, and before long you and Jungkook had been attached at the hip for a number of weeks.

He had come over to your house once or twice. You two would have dinner together and he would help you clean up afterwards, which sometimes resulted in a sleepover as you would both be too tired to even think about him driving home. If you weren’t sharing a nice meal together, you were deep into a game of Mario Kart or watching some crazy nature documentary, which would soon both be abandoned by your long conversations that lasted well into the night.

Slowly but surely, he had become a part of your daily routine, like you could no longer imagine a day without seeing him. He fit right in. You also took up his offer of coming into the shop every once in a while, where he showed you that the idea of a tattoo wasn’t so bad after all. You still remembered a conversation you two had after a particularly busy day at the shop. He was stressing over something or the other and you asked him why he kept the job if it did nothing but stress him. He told you he loves to listen.

At the time, you didn’t understand it, so you just left it at that, but after coming around for a while, you began to take notice of things. The shop was filled with a variety of stories and people from all walks of life, wanting to tell their stories through the ink on their skin. Of course, there was the occasional drunk college kid that would more than likely regret everything in the morning, but you would be lying if you said you hadn’t heard stories that brought you to tears. Tattoos for passed loved ones and promises of love for newly established family members written in ink on the skin. Symbols of strength for those that had just been through too much, and symbols of happiness and joy for those that felt better than they ever have. Customers would talk and talk while Jungkook drew what he heard on their skin, and that’s when you understood. You knew then how important this shop was to Jungkook and why, it went deeper than just his story, so many others were written on those walls.

You confronted him about it that night at your house and he just smiled at you. That was the first night you experienced what it felt like to fall in love with someone. Maybe you weren’t deep in love yet, maybe you hadn’t known him long enough, but at that moment you would have fought against anyone who tried to tell you any different.

The second time you felt yourself falling in love was when you saw him cry for the first time. That night was the anniversary of his grandfather’s death. You two were sitting in silence, eyes on the Animal Planet documentary currently playing on your TV, when you heard soft sniffles. Slowly, you brought your eyes over to the other end of the couch where Jungkook sat. His eyes were red, and tears slipped slowly down his cheeks, which were also red, indicating that he was trying to hold it back. It killed you to see those usually bright eyes that you had come to love in so much pain.

Without saying a word, you scooted closer to him. His eyes made contact with yours and you almost broke. You reached out your arms to wrap them around him, and as soon as he was engulfed by you, the dam broke. You could feel him shaking in your arms, and you began to draw little circles on his back with your thumb. “It’s okay.” You cooed softly. “I’m here Jungkook. I’m here.”

You held him there for what seemed like hours, before you heard his gentle snores in your ear. You laid him down on the couch, covered him up, and went to bed. Neither of you spoke of it the next morning.

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The third time you felt yourself falling in love was different. You were far past falling, at this point you had already crashed. Touches and smiles that you once would’ve returned and left it at that were now keeping you awake at night. The only decent sleeps you got were on the nights he was in your living room, snoring away. He made you feel at home, and you were afraid of it.

You didn’t know how he felt about you, and you were sure it could never be the same way you felt about him. You couldn’t risk losing your friendship, so you kept your feelings locked away, in a part of you that only you had access to.

However, Jungkook didn’t make this easy on you. He was the same as he had always been: touchy. Yet it didn’t feel the same. It was different and it drove you crazy. And then one day you couldn’t hold it in anymore.

The shop had closed up and you and Jungkook were the only two still in there, in the months that you had known each other closing shop with him and heading to your house was part of the routine. But not tonight. As Jungkook was cleaning up the counter, a thought crossed your mind. “Jungkook, what about your tattoos?”

He stopped wiping and turned to you, rag still in his hand. “What do you mean?”

“I mean... “, you fidgeted with the edge of your sundress. “Your story. The reasons behind your tattoos.”

He smiled softly and placed the rag down. “Well…” he started, walking over to where you were. “This one.” He pointed to a small butterfly on his neck. “Symbolizes change. A promise to myself to be a better me every day. This one.” He trails his fingers down to a key on his collarbone. “Loyalty. I’ll protect what’s closest to me.” He pulls the collar of his shirt down a little, revealing a semicolon somewhat to the right and below the key. “This was one of my first ones. After I overcame my depression. A symbol to stay strong.”

Almost as if you couldn’t control yourself, you reached out to him, tracing your finger softly over the shape of the semicolon. His breath hitched in his throat, the feeling of being that close to you more than he could handle. Hearing his breath catch, you looked up at him, fingers still in the place they were previously tracing.

“Y/N…” He let out in a breathy whisper. “Can I kiss you?”

“Please.” You almost begged, though you barely had enough time to get it out before his lips crashed against yours. At that moment, you didn’t care if he would hate you after this, maybe he regretted everything, but you needed to feel him. You craved his touch. The kiss deepened, the fiery passion that had been growing deep inside both of you for so long now exploding into fireworks. He wrapped his hands around your waist, lifting you up around him and setting you down on the edge of the counter, to which you did not object.

He pulled away, breathing heavily. “Should we get you out of these clothes?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. You nodded almost too quickly and he reached down to pull off your dress. He tugged it up and you helped him pull it off, the only material separating you two now being your lace bra and panties. He stared at you hungrily, as if he were a predator and you were the prey. He dropped your dress to the floor and went back to giving you attention with his lips, trailing them around your neck and lower and lower down your body, sending a shiver down your spine.

His hands made their way to your thighs, causing goosebumps to appear on your skin. He parted your legs, beginning to grind himself closer to you. God, that feeling alone was enough to drive you mad. “God Y/N, You’re so fucking beautiful.” He growled. “You drive me crazy, you know that?” You let out a sigh of intense pleasure, tangling your fingers into his hair and trying to pull him closer. You wanted to feel all of him. You let your hands slip down his body, coming to the hem of his t-shirt and raising your hands under it, feeling over his bare chest.

“Y/N…” He moaned out breathlessly, the tight feeling in his pants making it hard for him to think. He wanted to ravage your body. He was so desperate to feel himself inside of you, to feel you around him. He wanted you in every which way. You felt the same, evident from your increasingly soaking panties.

You faltered at the sound of him saying your name. “My name...say it again.”

He leaned in close to your neck. “Y/N.” He muttered, attaching his lips to the spot right below your ear. He kissed you again, this time lower. “Y/N.” He started to nibble on your collar bone and you felt like you were losing your mind. “Y/N. My beautiful princess, Y/N…” His hands slowly pushed you down, his lips never losing contact with your neck, until he had you laid on top of the counter, not caring about the binders and papers to be lost underneath you. He yanked his shirt off over his head, revealing the rest of his toned ink-filled skin. Your legs wrapped around his waist to pull him closer, tighter against you.

His hands found their way to your bra, wasting no time removing the lacey material. He threw it on the floor with your dress, eager to give his attention back to you. Jungkook couldn’t believe the sight before him. You were so beautiful to him, and he couldn’t wait to show you. After all, actions speak louder than words.

He lowered his mouth to your chest, letting his tongue explore around the new area. The feeling of his tongue on you had caused your nipples to harden, and Jungkook had no intentions to neglect this fact, immediately swirling his tongue around the perky buds. He traced his tongue relentlessly around, leaving no room for any untasted spots.

“Jungkook.” You moaned out his name softly. This encouraged him more, his mouth now capturing your whole breast, making you mewl and squirm beneath him, mixing with his grinding against your center. You whined, eager for him to touch you, and he trailed his fingers down to your heat, rubbing the inside of your thighs in a circular motion, teasing you. You rutted against his fingers, causing him to slip two digits inside, a desperate whine erupting from the back of your throat.

He pushed them in deeper, swirling them around inside of you,stretching your walls and making you weak in the knees. You thrusted upwards, shoving him deeper inside of you, and he couldn’t wait any longer. He needed to be closer to you. He pulled his fingers away, to which you were about to object before he sunk down to his knees in front of you. He put his head in between your thighs, trailing kisses all around the inside. He looked up at you and you could unraveled right there, his lust filled eyes looking at you like you were a treasure to him, the only thing that mattered. Your thoughts were cut off as he placed his tongue over your slit, giving it one good lick. Your fingers found their way to his hair, pulling on it lately, making him let out a whimper and dive into you deeper. It felt euphoric, better than anything you had ever had before, and you could feel yourself edging closer to your orgasm. “Jungkook please..” You whimpered, and he let out a soft groan. You tugged on his hair again. “This feels amazing but please just get inside of me already.” When you told him like that, he couldn’t deny you.

He removed his belt buckled, sliding his pants down and positioning himself in between your legs, wasting no time pushing himself inside of you. He sighed at the feeling of your wet walls wrapping around him. You could feel him deep inside of you, and your back arched in pleasure, his hands going to hold your waist, giving him a better angle. He pounded into you mercilessly, and you let him take you over. No one could tell where you began and he ended, as your bodies molded together and your voices mixed to create the perfect song. One for only you two. As his pace quickened, you could feel your whole body getting tighter. Your walls clenched around him and your legs shook, your body wanted more of him, but it could only take so much. You let out one last yell and you swear you saw fireworks as Jungkook spilled the evidence of his pleasure inside of you. As you both came down from your high, Jungkook gave you one last kiss and pulled himself out of you. “I love you.” He whispered after he pulled away.

You couldn’t believe what you had just heard. Jeon Jungkook, someone you didn’t think anyone could ever deserve, just told you he loved you. You loved him and he loved you. You smiled.

“I love you too Jungkook. I have for a while now.”

He kissed you once more, but it wasn’t the last time. It was only the first of many.

Tag List: @hazeljrz @goldenwidow3

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hwrdak · 5 years ago

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ok so u guys know season 5 ep 2 right. yea that episode fucking sucks ass. it’s the worst ep in the show. here’s why as written by a woc autistic bisexual

I want to talk a bit about the thought process behind entrapta. she is autistic and bisexual as confirmed by noelle, who has also said that she was based off of an autistic crew member. very funny how noelle doesn’t go into the specifics of the crew member considering the fact that they’re not even a crew member technically. they’re a story boarder that left during season 2 or 3 I believe. they had like,,, no impact on the actual writing, as none of the writers are autistic. no idea why noelle had to bring it up. or why they didn’t just confirm her autism beforehand. brownie points probably.

here’s the very big problem with the aftermath of this episode. entrapta has done awful things for the horde, and the princesses are right to be mad at that. the way they talk to her is degrading but they feel justified for doing it. however, how come it’s ONLY entrapta that this happens to? scorpia is great but other than being a prisoner, we never see her get scolded for her time in the horde. not even CATRA gets scolded for her war crimes. the princesses act as if entrapta just doesn’t care and throughout the episode, there’s a clear fact that they don’t want to bother actually talking to her or putting themselves in her pov. they pretty much left her to die, it’s not surprising that she got into the horde. but it’s very obvious that she wants to further their communication by helping them via tech and her special interest. however, mermista and the others do not use their brains and just go “yea she’ll probably go join prime lol” purely bc of her hyperfixation bc homophobia doesn’t exist but ableism sure as hell does. if ur neurotypical, let me be clear: we do not choose hyperfixations. our brain is wired to constantly think about them. the others do not consider this which is why it’s ableism. in all, there is a clear miscommunication issue with entrapta and the other princesses and it’s not entraptas fault. but the show sure as fuck tries to make it seem like it is indeed her fault and maybe she should’ve been more in touch with social cues and “””normal””” talk.

let’s focus more on entrapta for a second. it’s easy for US THE VIEWERS to say that she’s actually not the villain the princesses are making it out to be bc we’ve seen her journeys and her interactions. she grew up building robots to befriend. shes there for scorpia when she wants to talk and never turns her down. shes there for hordak when he’s questioning the dilemma of worth being wrongly tied to how perfect your actions are. entrapta doesn’t HAVE to do any of those things. but she really wants friends and wants to be a good one. I think what’s really special about the “imperfection is beautiful” scene is that she’s saying it’s okay to not be perfect and it’s okay to not exactly love or apply any kind of passed down ideology of what qualifies as perfect as a moral and ethical equivalent to the varying labels of life and what and what doesn’t make life itself worth living if no impact is being made that doesn’t satisfy the imaginary line of worthiness built on the digression of self love. hordak wants to hear that he’s perfect and that’s not what he gets. entrapta doesn’t tell him what he wants to hear, she tells him what he NEEDS to hear. bc entrapta deserves to know what it’s like to experience romance and the essence of chance meetings determined by the concept of fate. she knows what she needs and she never lets go. she doesn’t give up on anything, even after she thought she trusted catra. she forgave her and she never stopped believing in hordak. scorpia defected from the horde to be a good friend, as did hordak. she didn’t tell scorpia to go after her. she didn’t tell hordak to ditch prime. entraptas impact doesn’t need to be heavily interpreted with some kind of moral and ethics book. it’s good that people understand where she’s coming from in terms of her moral compass but maybe we don’t have to. it’s great that the crystal she gave hordak says luvd bc thats everything abt entrapta. the only thing that ever needed to be understood about entrapta is that she loves the things she holds to her so much and wants them to love her back. love varies upon all our meanings but I think entrapta does represent a very pure and meaningful direction of love, and that depends on how long your imaginary line of worth is. entrapta threw it away with love. different circumstances make u stay and hold on to things.

anyways episode 2 took whatever I just said and fuckin axe body sprayed it. the overlaying message of that dumpster fire is that entrapta just learned that her actions are bad and she should feel bad bc she was just incapable of not understanding the importance of friendship and doing what’s right until she got put on a leash and got her hair pulled like a billion times. she doesn’t even get an apology. bc apparently everything wrong that’s happened in that ep is all her fault and we’re all supposed to relate to the neurotypical abeist thought process of the princesses.

let me be very clear. ENTRAPTA NEVER NEEDED TO LEARN HOW TO DO GOOD AND BE BETTER. the very fact that the show insinuates that she actually needed to learn a lesson in actually helping people, which is something she’s been doing throughout the ENTIRE show, is bullshit. she’s a grown ass fucking woman. she knew what she was doing. and with the rebellion she wants to do better bc she’s aware she’s been wrong. she’s ALWAYS known that she’s different and can’t properly help with others outside of her expertise but apparently some of u will self combust at the thought of an autistic woman not being a child and not having to learn lessons through literal ableism. this isn’t the only time this has happened. autistic characters in shows often get surrounded by a negative stigma of ableism in order for their character to progress in any way. if u honestly think that it was good that entrapta had to risk her life to save glimmer to prove a point that she does care, ok. but don’t tell me it’s well written bc it’s all riddled with ableism. she’s been handling friendship well throughout the show and the s5 narrative completely ignores it. hell the episode is so triggering I can barely watch it without feeling nauseous.

tl;dr entrapta is the best character in the show who is very aware of friendship/doing the right thing and the episode didn’t know how to properly handle an autistic character without pandering to neurotypicals and this is the result.

#if u actually read that 4th paragraph good bc i spent a lot of brain power on it #spop #entrapdak #entrapta #long post #ableism tw #tw ableism #if an allistic gives me a stupid ass comment i wont read it

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jaeminlore · 5 years ago

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The Sun Shines in the Knight | Mark Lee

playlist

summary: golden, as i open my eyes. hold it, focus, hoping; take me back to the light. — golden, harry styles. / mark doesn't want to fall in love, but he doesn't want to be forgotten, either.

words: 4.05k+

category: knight!mark x gardener!reader, gender neutral reader, mark is on the ace/aro spectrum but idk how to label it, mark is in love with the sun.

warning(s): injuries, anxiety

a/n: this is lowkey inspired by me and my friend but its also taken a mind of it's own

The sun is the last think Mark sees on the battlefield. Just as his back hits the damp grass and his ears ring in the anticipation of a long nap (read: a concussion) he sees the sun pulse in his vision, brighter and brighter until he succumbs to his injury.

The sun is, coincidentally, the first thing he sees when he wakes up in the healer's room. There's a bandage around his bare torso to cover a particularly nasty blade wound, and a thin scab across his jaw. The only window in the room, high and arched, serves as a direct viewing of the sun in all of her glory. The rays warm his skin, and for a moment, he thinks about going back to sleep.

His head pounds when he closes his eyes, though, and he figures it'd be better to get up and force his blood to do some circulating.

The healer — Jaemin — isn't in the room, and so Mark decides he isn't under any important watch that would force him to stay cooped up all day.

He sits up, the anticipated curl of his spine sends an immediate zip of pain through his ribs, and Mark groans aloud, having forgot what a broken rib feels like.

But the sun moves to his shoulders, and the feeling is euphoric, so he braves the pain in favor of visiting the garden. There has to be a hidden patch of grass somewhere, sun kissed and waiting to be slept upon.

Mark briefly pauses in his journey to take a detour into the kitchen, where he fills up a wooden cup with cool water directly from the pump. He drinks three full glasses before he decides he's properly hydrated, then he slowly makes his way to the back garden, side-stepping the noble children who run around the roses while their mothers attend afternoon tea.

The royal garden has many sections: a garden for the kitchen, where vegetables are grown, a flower garden for the royal florist, color coded for easy arrangements. There's an herbal garden just for Jaemin and his peers, for balms and potions alike. There's a fruit orchard too, but it's past the garden wall, closer to the abundance of the lake and the clear water it produces.

The garden wall itself is somewhat of a maze. While the outer is a high stone gate, made to keep intruders out, the following layers are made of thick shrubbery that are often clipped into different shapes. Then there are hedges, planted to be somewhat of a maze for privacy. It's often in the maze that nobles walk with their suitors, or where strategists discuss their, well, strategies.

Mark dives into the maze and searches for whatever empty landing he can find. After sidestepping a few appalled nobles (apparently a beaten-up knight dressed in nothing but bandages and cotton is not what one wants to see during tea time, but Mark doesn't exactly know where his shirt is, so) he finds a patch of clovers. The weeds are plentiful, and a bright emerald green that makes Mark feel happy for no reason. The sun shines down on the overgrown patch, and Mark realizes that the patch is already occupied by a small rabbit. It's a grey cottontail, one he's seen a few times in the garden. He's sure it belongs to one of the gardeners, or is at least comfortable enough with them to hang out so much. Mark knows rabbits don't particularly like people.

The rabbit in question is munching on a clover, it's little pink nose twitching as it does so.

Mark decides that he'll risk it, so he approaches the patch anyways, and lies down on his back, letting the sun blanket him.

(He can hear the rabbit's clicking as he falls asleep.)

"Oh, hi." It's your voice that wakes Mark up from his dreamless slumber. He's surprised to find that it's already sundown when he wakes, and his body is still just as weak as it was when he fell asleep. Maybe moreso now (what is Jaemin always chiding him for? Heat exhaustion?) At least he drank enough water to stay hydrated throughout everything.

It takes him a few moments to get reoriented with his surroundings. And finally, he remembers your presence; curves his neck to see where you've gone off to.

You're still there, in a shirt that's far too big for you. The collar nearly hangs off of your shoulder, showcasing your soil-stained collarbones. You're not paying attention to him anymore, not that Mark really expected you to.

You pick up the rabbit instead, chiding it in quiet an exasperated voice as you warn him about being in the sun for too long. (Maybe you and Jaemin would get along.)

"'M sorry," Mark mumbles out, stumbling over his dry mouth and his slow-to-rouse brain. He finally sits up, his ribs still screaming in protest, and he looks at you.

You gaze back at him, the grey rabbit snuggled close to your chest. You're not smiling. You look uncomfortable, if anything, and Mark hesitates to keep talking to you.

But you speak first. "Why are you apologizing? You have every right to sleep outside."

The tone in your voice makes Mark feel warm inside. It's hardly judgmental, bordering between disconcertment and daring. There's hesitance in your words. Your voice wavers as you assure him he can hang out as long as he needs to, and Mark wonders if you're making up these rules for him, or for you.

"I should head back to Jaemin and get my bandages changed," he says matter-of-factly, like you care or asked.

"Okay." You blink at him, and although the sun is setting, Mark can still he it's reflection in your eyes. He wonders if you know that the sun is attracted to you.

(He thinks it'd be weird to ask. No one else thinks about the sun as much as him, so it might sound less like a compliment and more like a creepy overstep. Mark never wants to overstep.)

Getting back into training is harder than Mark thought it should be. Sure, it's been months, and his wounds have healed completely, but he still has visions of the battlefield, still gets anxious at the sound of a blade, and lately he's been longing for something more peaceful.

He's not trying to be selfish. Really, he loves knighthood. He loves protecting his kingdom and helping the innocent. It's all he ever wanted to do since he was young. And sure, he's gotten older and more solemn, but it doesn't change the fact that he's halfway there. He's still a young knight, just years past being a squire, and he still has so much to prove and so much to learn.

He absorbs information like a sponge. He practices his moves until daybreak, often slumping into his bed without so much as a bath or a meal to heal his aching bones. He does everything he can to please his captain and fellow teammates. The thought of their disappointment shatters him already. Anxiety floods his veins at the mere thought of them disapproving of his actions.

That's precisely why he doesn't tell anyone he's slowly breaking on the inside. It's nothing he can't handle. Nothing he hasn't been through before. Only this time it's not well hidden in the privacy of his bunk. This time it's starkly noticeable in the way he flinches at every swing of the blade, every clang of a shield against a suit, every shrill call to order from his captain.

He falls again, the sun both his enemy and closest friend as he's chided once again about the dangers of dehydration.

His mouth is too dry to tell his captain that it isn't dehydration at all. It's anxiety, and the fear that this feeling is going to be his forever. He kind of wants to go to sleep and never wake up, but even that thought brings on shame.

He closes his eyes, feels the sun burn against his eyelids, and wills it to burn him up, if just to let him feel something.

You're in the clover patch again. Not again, because Mark hasn't seen you since the first time and it's been months, but again, because he sees you now, and the days blur so easily in his mind nowadays that he really feels like he just saw you yesterday.

You have a basket in your hand, and you're gathering bunches of clover with precise care, ignoring his presence. Mark figures you just don't hear him, but he sees your gaze flit to him and he realizes you're avoiding acknowledgment on purpose.

Mark supposed this is where he leaves.

Only he doesn't, because he's drowsy beneath the afternoon sun, and this is the only place he can go where he won't be chided for his rash decisions.

(The sunburn on his chest is actually healing nicely, thank you very much.)

"What do you use so many clovers for?" He asks, eyes hesitant when they meet yours.

You look shocked that he's speaking to you. Not in an appalled way, but more like you expected him to ignore you altogether.

Mark doesn't want to ignore you; never really has.

"Jaemin asked me to." So you already know Jaemin. "For cough syrup."

"Ah." Mark doesn't know what to say. He doesn't want you to think he's done talking to you, but he's horribly awkward at things like this. Talking. Friendship. Whatever is going on here.

"You fainted today," you say. "Maybe you shouldn't be out in the sun so much."

"Oh, it wasn't because of the sun," Mark amends. He sits down, away from the clover patch so he won't disrupt your progress. "I get anxious when I fight now. That's all."

"You were anxious enough to pass out?" You ask him, and then your voice gets lower as you seem to answer yourself, "Well yeah, I guess increased blood flow would make you pass out. That was stupid to ask."

"Not stupid," Mark says. He doesn't know what else to say though.

It's a weird in-between place of wanting to talk to you and having nothing to say. He decides maybe he should just dive into the deep end. "Ever since the last battle... it's been hard for me to keep up. I'm afraid of swords now, which shouldn't happen, but I guess something in my brain got triggered when I was wounded, and now swords connect with pain. They've always been connected with pain though, so it shouldn't be new. It's just new to me."

You hum. It's enough for Mark to know you listened. He thinks maybe you're good at listening, even if your only reply is a solemn hum. Then, "You can't help it if you have trauma in your life. It's expected since you're a knight, but don't push it down so much that you fall ill."

"Yeah." He says. "I won't."

(He doesn't. And sometimes he does. It really depends on the days, but he's trying, and somehow he thinks that's all you meant for him to do.)

Mark is always around so many people. He thinks about it on his birthday, when Jaemin takes him and all of his fellow knights to the nearby inn for drinks. Mark feels the numb sting of a person who has many companions but no one to confide in. He takes it in stride; always has, but it burns down his throat along with the whiskey.

He watches Johnny flirt with the innkeeper, and when the tall man comes back with keys to the nicest room, he gives them to Mark. A "Happy Birthday, man." on the top of his tongue.

Everyone howls, their minds going to dirty places, and Mark has to quiet them down by saying he doesn't want to have sex tonight. Or any night for that matter. Everything in his chest burns from the laughter he receives in turn, along with the assurance that he'll get intimate when the right person comes along.

He visits you the next morning and recounts the tale.

"Some people don't want sex," you say. There's a surety in your voice that makes Mark wish you were with him last night, if only to defend him. He doesn't want to be selfish, though — doesn't want you to think he's only using you for his own benefit — so he leaves with his thoughts and the sun on his back.

Your schedules don't really coincide. Mark never sees you; not in the audience at jousts, or in the kitchen during meal time. He knows the both of you are in completely different sectors of the castle — your presence is really only mandatory in the garden, while Mark's is mandatory everywhere the king is.

But sometimes Mark thinks about you during jousting tournaments, when he gets a high score but no one praises him for it. It's just expected of him, and yet he wishes there was someone to praise him for his hard work. It's not easy doing what he does, especially when he has so much anxiety doing it.

He wants to find you. He wants to breathe in your presence— wants to ask you if you think about him too, in the spaces between obligation and freedom. In the moments where you can be whoever you wish.

He wonders if you picture him.

The sunburn on his shoulders makes his skin itch more than usual, and Mark thinks about taking a swim in the lake to clear his mind.

He stands on the dock, mind foggy with the what-ifs and the how-tos and the imagine-if-Y/n-ever-thought-about-yous. He hesitates to take off his shirt, because left in only his cotton shorts he feels vulnerable. The scars that mark up his chest make him feel weak, like he's never been enough, and he'll never be enough so long as his skin doesn't clear.

He doesn't feel like a man. Never really has. In his mind he is still a child playing pretend, and life is catching up to him, all too quickly and all too harshly for him to prepare for whats to come.

The sun reflects on the surface of the lake. Shadows of minnows and frogs pass beneath him, and Mark finally loses his shirt.

He dives in, feeling the slimy seaweed wrap around his ankles almost immediately. And yeah, it's uncomfortable, but it beats his leather boots and the sweat that builds up after a full day of practice.

A small frog hops onto his shoulder, frightening him, but it dives back into the water just as quickly, so Mark focuses on calming his breathing.

"Mark Lee," you call out.

Mark slips on the seaweed and falls back into the water. He closes his eyes tightly and lets himself break the surface. He feels his cheeks flood with heat, and he wonders if the sun can penetrate the water.

"Hi," he says softly. Water drips off of his eyelashes. Drops land on his cupid's bow and stay there as he stares at you.

Maybe you could feel him thinking about you. Maybe he sent some kind of cosmic energy out into the world, and you sensed it.

Maybe fate just works in mysterious ways.

Mark doesn't know what to say. He watches you sit on the dock and take off your shoes. You dip your toes into the water and smile at him. It's a bigger smile than he normally receives, and Mark feels like maybe you're opening up to him. He feels really good, and he isn't sure if it's the sunny daze or your warm gaze.

Maybe it's both.

Mark decides that he wants to hold you. Maybe it's too romantic a thought; maybe it's not romantic enough, but it sears his eyelids, and when he closes his eyes he can feel his hands splayed at your waist.

Yes, it's too romantic of a thought.

The sun is glaring now, taunting him. It's as if he doesn't know that he's failing in every way, staring at you without saying anything. He wants to reach out and ask you for advice on anything. Everything. He wants to get you talking; thinking about him, even just for a few minutes, but it's hard when he can't find his voice.

His shoulders itch again. He takes it as a sign. "Do you know any- uh- plants to help with sunburn?"

You smile even brighter somehow, and the sun is behind you now, mocking him as it rings a halo over your head. The light romanticizes you in a way Mark doesn't think he can. He doesn't think he's capable of it, but he longs for you.

He longs for you harmlessly, and his heart aches at the thought of you out of his life. Despite your monthly appearances, they mean more to Mark than he realizes most of the time. And he wants to tell you that he'd like to see you more often. Monthly greetings could turn into weekly meetings. He could see you more— bask in your presence; your light. He wants to drown in the way your chest rises and falls as you breathe. He wants to fall apart at the sound of your laughter.

He wants to love you, and he knows he isn't quite capable of love. Not in the way his mother expects him to be. Not in the way his friends expect him to be. Certainly not in the way he expects of himself. And yet, some selfish part of him hopes it will be enough for you. He hopes more than anything that one day you might accept what little love he can offer amongst the busyness of his life. Amongst the closed doors of his heart.

"Aloe vera," you say. "There's some one the healer's room, even though Jaemin is out for the week."

Mark finds a piece of himself feelings rather jealous at the fact that you seem to always know Jaemin's schedule. Why can't you know his?

"Okay," he says. "I'll ask him for some when he returns."

"I have a key." You stand up. "Come on, I'll find you some."

Mark stumbles his way out of the water, slipping twice on seaweed and three times over his words. "You really don't have to." He buttons his shirt over his scars, ears burning red because he can sense you looking at him. Studying him like you're hoping to find something amiss.

Mark follows you to the healer's room. When you order him to sit down, he obeys.

"Here," you hand him a jar of clear goop. "Rub this on your burns until they go away. And if you need any more, come find me."

Come find me.

Your words still ring in his head that night, as he applies more aloe to his body. He wants to come find you tomorrow, and he wants you to stay with him the entire day. He wants to hear about what goes around in your head and in your heart.

He wants to break the wall between the two of you and reach out; touch your soul and find that his is the same.

Mark stays awake until the sun comes up.

Beneath the lemon tree, you lay half-asleep. You stroke your rabbit's head and hum a tune, something you heard a long time ago. Maybe in a lullaby or an old shanty.

The sun is far too hot for you, which is why you've found a place in the shade.

You can hear the sounds of swords clanking against each other. Despite your reluctance, you think of Mark, and you wonder if he's doing alright. With his anxiety, and the way he's prone to accidents, you tend to worry about him a lot.

As much as he might think he's hiding it, Mark is a perfectionist just as much as he's a worrier. The two are more than likely related, but they double up in your brain as reasons to reach out to the boy every so often.

You aren't even sure Mark likes you. Like, as in, just enjoying your presence. Mark always seems a little too nervous; a little too eager to leave when he's around you.

You're sure it's you: the only common denominator in every situation.

Mark has a lot on his plate; he's got so much to deal with and so much he puts on himself.

You want to help, but you aren't sure where your place is in Mark's life. You could just be a passing soul; not an actual friend. You don't know, and you don't know the protocol for asking.

You told him to come find you if he ran out of aloe, but does that mean he isn't allowed to find you otherwise? You've only given him an option, and yet it doesn't feel like enough. It feels like maybe he won't visit you at all.

The sound of practice ceases, though your mind doesn't know if it's because practice is over or if it's because you're nearly asleep.

You wake up, and Mark is sitting a little ways off, clicking his tongue at the rabbit. He doesn't notice you've waken up.

"Hi," you say. "You found me."

Mark looks up, mouth open in a shocked expression. His neck is still red from the sun; and it creeps down onto the skin of his bare collarbones. "I didn't- I didn't see you there. Your shirt is the same color as the grass."

"Huh?" In your sleepy daze, you look down at your sleeve and notice that is does match the ground. Maybe Mark really didn't notice you. Maybe this is all fate. "Oh. Sorry then."

"No!" Mark crosses his legs. "No! Uh, I wanted to find you. I just thought you wanted me to wait until I was finished with the aloe."

"That was just an excuse," you say sheepishly.

Mark is in his uniform (sans the jerkin). Leather pants and a violet shirt, untied at the chest. His skin is still colored, but it seems a bit more pink than the bright red it was yesterday. "It's been working then?"

Mark looks down at his chest and clothed shoulders and nods. "Yeah, uh— It's been working. So, uh, what are you doing here?"

"I'm just taking a nap away from the sun," you say. You roll onto your back and look up, eyes locked at the giant star that shines through the lemon tree leaves.

"Why would you want to be away from the sun?" Mark narrows his eyes, shoulders hunched over as he reaches for the rabbit.

"Her name is Garnet," you say. "And the sun is harmful. It can hurt your skin and your eyes. It's better to stay cool."

Mark picks up Garnet and snuggles her into his chest. "I don't think I could ever stay away from the sun. I love the warmth."

"Seems so," you murmur. Mark seems to exude warmth. Seems to radiate the sun itself, like Apollo personally kissed his shoulders; his cheeks; his lips, and Mark shines more golden than the sun at times. Especially when he smile, he seems to personify the sunbeams. "You should stay here with me."

"In the shade?"

"Lay beneath the sun," you reach your hand out.

Mark looks surprised, his golden eyes shining with a sort of gleam that rivals the lake surface. He lays down beside you in the sun and takes your hand in his. "Okay."

You smile, heart full at the action, and even though Mark seems sleepy, you will yourself to stay awake and immortalize each moment in your memory.

And when his breathing slows; when you think he's finally asleep, he turns on his side and faces you. "Is this... Is this enough for you?"

Something unsaid slips between his words, like finality. Like, this may be all you'll ever get, and he wants to know if it's enough.

You smile at him. You can the sun in the reflection of his eyes; feel the soft grass beneath your skin; the warmth of Mark's hand in yours.

"This is more than enough."

#dreamwritersnet #mark lee scenarios #mark lee fluff #mark lee angst #nct mark fluff #nct mark angst #nct mark scenarios #superm mark fluff #superm mark angst #superm mark scenarios #destwrites

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