#i'm just a perfectionist and this is why i hate them

[mistress-light]

I don't like failing one exam out of the three...

[luv-again]

sobbing bc i gotta reread my own goddamn fic to remember whatever diabolical theming, motifs and plot points i cooked up in development so i can continue carrying it throughout the piece and NOT derailing the entire story by forgetting and going off on a nonsense tangent that has no depth

[non-operator]

AAAALKAJSDLKJSDFKLJASLDFSDLKFJKLSDJGKLSDFLKJKLSDFJLKDSFJ😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

was playing the price of flesh bc winter sale and also funny reviews and Hot

And i got all the deaths and unlocked all the collections and everything and started on the secret endings and asdkljfalsdjflksdfjasdlkfjaskldjf

ANd then i find out that one of the achievements (Sacrifice) can only be achieved with zero deaths??????? aklsjdfklajsdlkfjalsdflkajsdflkdsf😭😭😭😭 fuck my life

[angelicyoongie]

(you're) always on my mind (I)

— pairing: bird hybrid jimin x (f) reader — word count: 5.1k — summary: When your workplace announces that they've decided to promote collaboration between departments, you suddenly find yourself face to face with your sworn nemesis Park Jimin. Your plans to avoid him are quickly foiled as his presence turns the floor into a madhouse, your coworkers all vying for his attention. With so many people at his beck and call, why is it that Jimin is always so insistent on getting in your way?

01 - 02 - 03 / Masterlist

Gentle hums accompany you as you flick through the pages on your desk, highlighting the important keywords in your proposal.

Adjusting the reading glasses that are slipping down your nose, you glance to the side to find Jungkook twirling a pen between his fingers, staring at the same empty email as he has been for the past thirty minutes. Working beside Jungkook for the past three years has given you enough time to learn his cues and grow so accustomed to them that you no longer really notice when they happen.

In the beginning, the humming and singing under his breath would drive insane when you were trying to concentrate but you've since come to appreciate it. Jungkook would have a field day if he knew, but the truth is that you've found yourself missing the constant stream of the current top 10 pop songs on the days he's not in the office. 

"Do you need help with the email?" You ask as you flip to another page, tapping the highlighter against your chin as you scan through the words.

The humming – which you've learned Jungkook resorts to whenever he's feeling stressed – is cut off by a groan. 

"No, it's fine." 

You hear Jungkook clicking his mouse before the screen next to yours goes dark.

"I know that this workshop would improve my skill set but I'm not sure how to convince Mr. Shin of the same thing. For a company that's always pushing improvement and development, they sure hate to invest in it." 

"Tell me about it," You let out a quiet snort. "You know I had to beg Mr. Shin for months just let me attend a three-hour seminar the higher-ups had recommended for all the marketing employees." 

You see a mop of brown hair fall to the desk in your periphery, Jungkook letting out another upset sound. You give him a half-hearted pat on the back, quickly turning back to your proposal. 

"I'm hungry," Jungkook whines.

"And I'm not done yet," You reply as you drag your pen across another important section. 

"But it's officially lunchtime–" Jungkook goes silent for a beat as he picks up his phone, staring at the clock until it hits noon on the dot, "- right now! It won't make a difference if you hand in that proposal now or in an hour, you know Mr. Shin never looks at anything until after he's had his lunch."

"I can feel my body growing weaker with every passing second, Y/n, my vision is getting blurry, I can't feel my toes–" 

You roll your eyes as Jungkook dramatically slips off his chair, sinking to the floor between your desks. You place your pen down with a sigh, turning your head to find him already staring at you with wide, pleading eyes. 

"Are you really that hungry?" 

"Starving," Jungkook nods solemnly.

You spare your almost-finished proposal another glance. You know that Jungkook is right but the perfectionist in you hates to leave anything longer than you have to. Still, what difference will an hour make?

"Fine," You concede as you put your pen down, "Let's go get lunch." 

Jungkook lets out a victorious sound as he springs to his feet. He barely lets you grab your wallet before he pulls you out of your seat, throwing an arm around your shoulder to steer to toward the elevator before you can change your mind.

"So, what's the special today?" You ask as you both cram yourself into the open elevator, Jungkook's beefy frame providing some extra leeway from the other workers. You truly have no clue how his business casual attire has made it this long without ripping at the seams, you swear he's only getting more muscular with every passing week. 

"Pork belly," He gives you a sheepish smile.

"That explains the dramatics," You shake your head, smiling back at him.

You both hurry out of the elevator when it reaches the floor of the cafeteria, not wanting to get stuck in line behind everyone else. You pout as what must be a leopard hybrid slips past you, their natural gait so quick you only really catch sight of the tip of their black tail as they round the corner into the cafeteria. You and Jungkook are just regular old humans, so there is no competition there. 

As soon as you both have your food, with Jungkook's plate stacked so high you're worried it might topple over as you make your way through the cafeteria, you scan the crowd for a familiar set of antlers. You give Hoseok a bright smile as you spot him at an empty table, the deer hybrid is always quicker than the two of you to get out of his duties and grab a table. 

"There are my overachievers!" Hoseok greets you as you both take a seat. "Lunch started exactly seven minutes ago, why are you so late?" 

Jungkook lets out a sigh as he gets comfortable next to Hoseok, his chopsticks already loaded with meat as he says, "Y/n is working on another proposal." 

"Ah," Hoseok nods his head as if that explains everything, his reddish-brown hair bobbing along with the motion.

You childishly stick out your tongue, ignoring their laughter as you take a bite of your food. You don't mind their little jabs because you know they're right. You are an overachiever, but that's simply because you like what you do and you take pride in your work. It makes you happy when the ideas you've worked hard on get approved and implemented. 

"I do admire your work ethic, Y/n," Hoseok points out as he stuffs a lettuce wrap full of vegetables into his mouth. "I just don't relate. I'm only here for that sweet, sweet paycheck I get at the end of the month." 

Jungkook gives Hoseok a high-five. 

"Let me guess, you're only here to fund your figurine collection?" You raise an eyebrow, already knowing the answer.

"You know me so well," Jungkook shoots you a finger heart, one you quickly redirect in Hoseok's direction with a swipe of your hand.

Jungkook lets out an affronted gasp as Hoseok snatches it up, clutching his hand to his chest as he mutters, "That's so mean. I'm never going to give you another finger heart ever again."

"That's fine by me, keep them for your waifus," You bicker back. 

Jungkook ducks as Hoseok laughs, the deer hybrid's antlers getting dangerously close to his face as Hoseok leans to the side. There's a reason you tend to sit across from Hoseok and not next to him - your reflexes aren't as good as Jungkook's. 

Hoseok's giggles taper off into an amused expression as he looks towards the cafeteria entrance, "Hm, there's certainly one person in this company that can relate to your ambitious nature."

You glance over your shoulder, your eyes immediately locking on to the person he was referring to. The other employees in the cafeteria part like the red sea as Park Jimin makes his way through the room, their expressions awed as they take in the hybrid's dashing looks. Today, Jimin's deep dark blue hair is swept to the side, revealing his unblemished skin and pretty features. His large wings are folded behind his back, the blue feathers showing off their purple tint whenever the sun hits them just right. All that to say, you think the most striking part about Jimin might be his violet-colored eyes. There's something about the color that just makes his gaze feel so intense – captivating, almost. 

"Come to think of it, the two of you would be perfect for each other!" 

Your attention snaps back to Hoseok so fast you hear something in your neck pop. You scowl at him, kicking his shin under the table as you hiss, "Do you secretly hate me or something? Don't ever suggest something like that again."

Hoseok throws his hands up in the air, confused.

"I'm sorry? I just figured you might enjoy being workaholics together, gods know Park is just as bad as you are."

"Hyung," Jungkook shakes his head, "Trust me, you do not want to see the two of them together in the same room. Just based on the tone of the emails they exchanged last year during a project, it's obvious they're not compatible. At all. I thought Y/n was going to break her keyboard in two with how hard she was hitting the keys every time she had to reply to him." 

The reminder makes you huff, your chopstick stabbing into a piece of pork belly with vengeance. You had tried to be courteous at first, to collaborate with him in a friendly manner fit for work, but it hadn't taken many exchanges before you realized that Park Jimin didn't deserve that. His emails oozed with cockiness and he always presented his ideas as if they were something you had already agreed on, instead of something to be considered. What you detested the most about that project was that Jimin's proposal was eventually picked over yours. The gloating smile he flashed you during the final meeting still makes your blood boil even now. 

"Oh, my bad," Hoseok grimaces, dropping the subject as he takes note of the displeasure on your face.

You sigh, turning to pick up a napkin as your gaze subconsciously seeks out Jimin in the room. He's made his way over to a table with what must be co-workers from his and Hoseok's department, his eyes forming crescent moons as he grins at something that's said.

You don't manage to look away before Jimin glances up and locks eyes with you. His expression turns smug as he catches you staring, his hand reaching out to cover the female employee's fingers that are curled around his arm. He says something that makes her swoon, her loud giggles carrying across the room. 

Your stomach sours as you watch them blatantly flirt, annoyed with how Jimin seems to have no decorum in general when it comes to work. Even the company couples know to keep it professional during office hours. 

You roll your eyes, turning back to watch Jungkook shovel the last of his meal into his mouth. 

With your appetite officially gone, you dap the napkin to your lips, scowling as you say, "I'd rather quit my job than ever work with him again." 

Shortly after lunch is over, you finally put the last touches on your proposal, ready to go hand it in. You look over the pages one final time, making sure they're all in order and neatly lined up before you slip them into a clear folder. Just as you place your hands on your desk, ready to push yourself up from your chair, the door to Mr. Shin's office unexpectedly opens. 

He claps his hands twice to get the attention of the department, the office falling silent as they all turn their eyes and ears to him. 

"Everyone, I require your attention for a moment."

You relax back down into your chair as Mr. Shin walks further into the office, making sure he's visible to all the employees who are scattered around. He glances at his watch, smiling to himself before he explains, "As of last month, it was decided that the company will be testing out a new work system where employees from certain departments will be moved around to promote better in-house collaboration. This will hopefully bring some new and fresh ideas to our projects and we hope to see your creativity and motivation flourish as a result." 

"We will be welcoming the top worker from the development department, one I am sure will bring a valuable new perspective to our team. Mr. Park, if you will–" 

A terrible feeling settles in the pit of your stomach as Park Jimin strides into the room, a perfectly pleasant smile painted on his deceitful face as he takes his place next to Mr. Shin. Jimin takes his time looking around the room, sharing smiles and soft greetings with the workers closest to him. His violet eyes seem to zero in on you when he finds your desk on the other side of the office, the wings behind his back ruffling slightly. You can only assume it means that he's as annoyed as you are to be sharing the same department.

You can feel your lips twisting into a scowl as you glance back at Mr. Shin, the older man smiling so brightly at Jimin you would almost think he hung the sun in the sky every morning.

"Wonderful! As you know, we have a new big project coming up and I previously asked you all to submit your proposals for how we should best promote this new venture. Although I'm sure you've all been working hard on your ideas so far, I can tell you now that you may scratch that task off your list."

You suck in a small breath, your fingers tightening around the folder in your grip. There's no way Mr. Shin has done something so unfair, it must be about something different–

"Mr. Park had a fantastic proposal, one I believe will take this project to new heights, so I would like to announce that his ideas have been chosen and that we are all in good hands with this new addition to our team." 

Your gaze involuntarily flickers back to Jimin as applause breaks out in the office. The bird hybrid doesn't seem to have looked away from you at all and that self-assured, cocky smile blooms on his lips as he no doubt sees the defeat on your face. 

You don't think you've ever despised a person more than you do Park Jimin. 

Jimin's taunting eyes are momentarily blocked from view as Mr. Shin goes to shake his hand, the rest of the office using it as their opportunity to go greet (or flirt with) their new team member. You look away, finding Jungkook staring at you with a slightly horrified expression.

"Y/n, I'm so sorry, I really didn't think that hour would make a difference," He pleads.

"It's not your fault, this must've already been decided a few days ago," You answer, trying your best to keep the annoyance out of your voice. Jungkook didn't do anything wrong after all.

With a sigh, you throw away your proposal, already knowing you're going to have to pick up a bottle of wine on the way home to keep yourself in check. Crying all night over a wasted proposal is out of the question, especially since you know Jimin would probably gloat about it if he ever found out.

"But if you do feel bad, I wouldn't mind something from your stash," You pout.

Jungkook scrambles to open his secret candy drawer, the one he always keeps locked whenever he steps away from his desk. For a man who works out so religiously, he sure has a terrible sweet tooth. 

You give him a soft thank you as he hands you one of your favorite bars of chocolate.

You sink in your chair, biting into the bar in hopes that the sweet taste will overpower some of the bitterness coating your tongue as you hear Jimin's airy laughter fill the room, the hybrid already more at home than you've ever felt in this department.

Tapping your foot, you internally groan over how slow the office printer is spitting out your papers. 

Your day already got off on the wrong foot. Turns out that drinking a whole bottle of wine by yourself was a bad idea on a weekday and it was with a splitting headache that you had to get dressed in a rush and sprint to get to your commute on time. With no time left for coffee before having to clock in, you've been left to nurse your pounding head down to a dull ache with just some water and aspirin graciously provided to you by Jungkook.

Safe to say, you're not having a good time today.  

So, it comes as no surprise that the printer suddenly decides to jam, the machine whirling loudly as it tries to unclog the stuck paper.

"Fuck, you have to be kidding me," You curse under your breath as you give the machine a frustrated kick. Could your day get any worse?

"Careful, Y/n, or I might have to report you to HR for destruction of property."

The sound of Park Jimin's voice right behind you makes you jump, your surprise causing you to whirl around so fast your own feet can't keep up. Jimin grabs your arm as you stumble back, his hold just enough to keep you from crashing right into the printer.

"Shit, I didn't mean to startle you. Are you okay?" 

It's the genuine worry in Jimin's voice that makes you glance at his face, his delicate features twisted with concern as he looks you over. You find yourself a little dumbstruck seeing Jimin up close for the first time, the words not leaving your mouth as you take all of him in. His violet eyes feel endless as you look into them, the darker hues around his iris creating an absolutely mesmerizing color. As Jimin shifts his weight, you notice for the first time that there are a few scattered feathers slicked back with the rest of his hair. The texture is just slightly noticeable nestled between his blue locks, the color just as deep as his wings. 

It's the sound of hushed murmurs that remind you of where you are, your arm still securely held in Jimin's warm grip. It's impossible to glance over Jimin's shoulder with how high the curve of his wings are, but a quick look around them confirms that you're being watched by two female employees. The pair of them have been following Jimin around all day, disrupting your workflow with their high-pitched giggles whenever he spared them an ounce of attention.

It's obvious that they're not happy that Jimin is talking to you and not them. So yes, it turns out that your day could, in fact, get worse. You have no intention of attracting their ire and certainly not because of Park Jimin. 

"I'm fine," You reply, shaking off his hand, "I'll go call IT for help." 

Jimin's feathers rustle uneasily as you move to walk back to your desk, his gaze traveling between you and the printer before his face suddenly lights up. 

"There's no need for that, Y/n, I'll fix it for you."

The cocky smile he sends you way makes a shiver travel down your spine, the spot on your arm still warm from where he held it. To Jimin's credit, he does seem to know what he's doing. It only takes a minute of him opening a panel before the printer stops complaining and whirls back to life, the rest of your papers slowly being pumped out onto the tray at the other end. 

Jimin dusts his hand off, smiling proudly as he says, "There you go." 

You collect your papers as the last one gets spit out, very aware that Jimin hasn't made a move to go back to his desk yet. You turn to face him, sighing internally as you see the expectant look on his face.

"... Thank you," You tersely say. 

Jimin's chest seems to puff out a little at that. His expression turns smug as he leans in a little closer, the tone of his voice flirtatious as he asks, "If you're feeling thankful, maybe you can buy me lunch? I would be more than happy to accept." 

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. Of course, you should've known that his ulterior motive would be to humiliate you more. You'd bring him to lunch and then what? He would probably talk your ear off about how much better he is and how his proposal was picked over yours – that he's more qualified for your job than you are.

You give him an unimpressed look back, gesturing to the two whispering employees as you say, "I'll pass. It seems your fan club is waiting for you and more than willing to buy you all the food your heart desires." 

Walking off before Jimin can reply, you ignore the dirty looks the women send you as you pass them by, your sights set on your desk. 

It turns out that today might be a perfect day for checking out that café Jungkook found on the other side of town, after all. 

With each passing day, you're becoming more and more confident that the universe is out to get you. 

It's only been a week since Jimin was transferred to your department but somehow, it has felt like a year. The hybrid is always within your line of sight and the gaggle of people following him around are really starting to disrupt your work and get on your nerves. Not even Jungkook's gentle singing is enough to drown out the constant hushed gossip and giggles echoing across the floor anymore.

You sink into your chair with a sigh, vexed by how you couldn't even escape Jimin's presence in the bathroom. The other women washing their hands and touching up their makeup couldn't stop gushing about how handsome and sweet and utterly kind he was – you almost felt a little bad that they had been so fooled by his faux persona.

Cunning and infuriating would be much more fitting adjectives to describe him with. 

"I think you got an email earlier," Jungkook mumbles, his eyes set on his computer screen. His brows are furrowed with concentration as he types out his workshop request. It seems that with Mr. Shin's increasingly happy mood now that Jimin's around, Jungkook has decided he might as well try to get it approved.

"Thanks."

You click on the blinking icon at the corner of your screen, and a tiny flash of hope surges through you as you notice the sender. Maybe Mr. Shin changed his mind about Jimin's proposal, or maybe he has something else for you to work on, something that will take you far, far away from the office–

Disbelief quickly crushes that sliver of hope as you read through Mr. Shin's email. He wants you to help Jimin. Apparently, some of the preliminary ideas you submitted to your supervisor ahead of your proposal would be a great asset to the new project, and Mr. Shin believes that sharing them with Jimin will strengthen the department's teamwork. 

Grinding your teeth, you find the old files and send them to print, holding yourself back from writing an unsavory reply that would most definitely get you fired. You can't believe you're being asked to help the enemy, the same man who snubbed you of the chance to even hand in your proposal in the first place. 

"I don't want to interact with him," You groan, rubbing your forehead. 

"Who?" Jungkook asks.

"Who do you think?" You deadpan, giving his chair a light kick.

"Well–" Jungkook lifts his glance away from his screen, craning his neck to peer over the divider. "He's not at this desk right now so if you hurry, you won't have to talk to him at all." 

You didn't notice it before, but the office has been suspiciously quiet for the past ten minutes, completely void of the hushed giggles that seem to accompany Jimin. Following Jungkook's lead, you slowly get out of your seat, glancing around the floor to make sure the hybrid is nowhere in sight.

Finding everything clear, you hurry over to the printer, thankful that it has decided to cooperate for once. Grabbing your papers, you beeline for Jimin's desk, hoping to drop them off and get out of there as quickly as possible. Just as you're about to slam the papers down and be done with it, the state of Jimin's desk freezes you in your tracks.

Everything is blue. All the supplies that could possibly be personalized – his pens, sticky notes, keyboard, mouse, even a small potted plant – are all in varying shades of blue. You can only deduce that it's a hybrid thing, something that has to do with his specific species. Or, well, maybe he just really likes blue. Either way, it's certainly not what you were expecting. 

It's the ding of the elevator announcing its arrival that snaps you back into motion, the sound of flirty laughter carrying into the office as its doors begin to open. You hastily leave the files on the side of his desk, careful not to disturb the placement of his things before scurrying back to your side of the department floor. You take your seat just as Jimin waltzes back into the office, the usual group of women and men following him around. 

"You'd think he was a god or something," You roll your eyes.

Jungkook shrugs his shoulders, way too nonchalant as he says, "I mean, he is handsome enough to be one." 

You turn to look at him, raising an eyebrow as you say, "Jeon Jungkook, did you just compliment the enemy?"

Jungkook gives you a sheepish smile in return, flicking the ends of his hair as he replies, "Beauty recognizes beauty, Y/n, it can't be helped." 

"You're right," You smile, all sweet, "I guess it also can't be helped that I now only have one friend in this company. But since Hoseok doesn't enjoy meat, I guess I'll just how to throw out all of the delicious cuts I got for our monthly dinner tomorrow – what a shame."

"Wait, Y/n!–" Jungkook scrambles in his chair, dragging himself closer to your desk. "I was just joking, you know that right? Please don't throw away the meat." 

You stare him down for a second, narrowing your eyes before turning back to your screen. "We'll see."

Despite your less-than-great eyesight, even you know that Jungkook is right. It pains you to admit it, but Jimin is beautiful. Even so, Jungkook should know not to praise that handsome, winged demon right in front of you.

So, you ignore Jungkook's puppy eyes in favor of your work, giving him a taste of the betrayal you just felt. You can never feign being upset with him for long but ten minutes?

That you can do.

Though, you suppose you should have known that Jungkook wouldn't let you get away with threatening his precious meat. 

"Jungkook–"

You roll your eyes as Jungkook's pout deepens, his head turning away from you dramatically.

"I'm sorry, okay? I'll never joke around about pork belly ever again."

"Do you promise?" He huffs. 

Jungkook only turns to look at you once you promise that yes, you'll never do something like that ever again. His sunny demeanor is back the moment the words leave your lips, proving once again that you were right when you introduced him to Hoseok as a master manipulator. It's impossible to not feel like a monster when those doe eyes are staring at you with all the sadness in the world. 

You slowly begin to pack up your things as Jungkook chatters away about a new anime he's found, doing your usual steps as you log off and power down your computer. Just as you're about to clock out for the day, you hear your name being called from the other side of the floor. Getting out of your seat, you see Mr. Shin waving you over to his office, signaling that he wants to talk to you. 

"You should go ahead," You tell Jungkook as you leave your packed bag and coat at your desk. "I don't know how long this is going to take but I'll text you once I'm done."

"I'm holding you to that!" Jungkook wags his finger. 

You wave Jungkook goodbye for the day as you cross the floor, taking a deep breath to calm your sudden nerves. As you reach Mr. Shin's office, you softly clear your throat, pulling on your clothes to make sure you look presentable before knocking on his door. 

"Come in." 

You open the door as you hear Mr. Shin's muffled voice telling you to enter, the pleasant smile on your face faltering just the slightest as you notice that Park Jimin is already present.

"Sir, you called for me?"

Mr. Shin waves you closer to his desk, gesturing for you to take the seat next to Jimin. You keep your eyes forward, not daring to look at the hybrid lest you accidentally pull a face.

"Ah yes, it's about the new project. We reviewed the suggestions you proposed and decided that they would complement Park's ideas very well. With the spirit of department teamwork in mind, Mr. Park proposed that you would both work together on this project, sharing the responsibility."

"Oh, that's.." You trail off, not quite sure what to say. This was not what you envisioned when you entered the room.

You turn your head to look at Jimin, the bird hybrid sporting an unreadable expression. You can't tell if he's upset with the news or not – you can't imagine Park would be thrilled to be forced to spend time with you – but wait, did your supervisor say that–

"You asked for me?"

"Of course," Jimin nods, "It wouldn't be right to use your ideas without you on the team."

There's no trace of the usual cockiness you've come to associate with Jimin, nor any of that flirty demeanor. To your surprise, Jimin appears to be fully serious for once. 

"Right," You reply, at a loss for words. This was a twist you had not seen coming. 

"So, what do you say Miss Y/n? Would you like to collaborate with Mr. Park on this project?"

Frankly, working with Jimin is the last thing you want to do. But the fact that your ideas will be implemented in the project no matter if you're there to take credit for it or not, is what convinces you to jump head first into what's surely going to become your own personal hell for the next few months. 

You spare Jimin another glance, plastering on your best smile as you inform Mr. Shin that,

"I would love to, thank you for giving me this opportunity." 

The bird hybrid's chest puffs out minutely at your agreement, that sly smile returning to his lips.

You have no doubt that he has an ulterior motive for including you in his project. But no matter what Jimin decides to throw at you – you sure as hell won't be going down without a fight. 

a/n: welcome to this silly little fic! i've been wanting to write something more lighthearted for a while so this felt like the perfect story to do just that 💖 will the mc and jimin survive being stuck together for a project?? only time will tell (actually, you'll know in a few weeks lol)!

i would love to hear your thoughts so far and reblogs are very much appreciated 💖

[daydreamcloudshiding]

#7 Astrology

The biggest red flag in relationship (any relationship) in my personal life would be mercury square mercury. Talking to people with their mercury squares mine is like trying to make a cow understand human language. They don't seem to get the state of my mental health, my thinking pattern, whatever comes out of my mouth, they will simply misunderstand it and it's not good for my mental health. I tried, really tried and my patience can only go so far for these people. No matter how much you love them, or how much they love you, we're never on the same page

Scorpio Mercury have that jealousy about them that ruined relationships. This isn't just about them suspecting that their partner cheated, but literally, they constantly thought that you compete with them. Especially if they have low self-esteem. In my own experience, I talked to a girl about some hobbies that I like by showing some stuff. We talked about this along with many friends, and we kind of take turns talking about our own thing. And this is the kind of conversations that I do, even with my Leo friends (the signs that have the reputation of being arrogant and competitive) but instead it's this girl with Scorpio Mercury who said that the reason I talk about this is to show off that I have better things than her. The air in the room gets pretty awkward after that and we ended up assuring her that no, she's pretty great and so good at this and that. She ended up re-direct the convos to other things by saying that we just keep lying to her by saying that she's good at this and that and that we shouldn't sugarcoated things to her and that she hates liars. Me and our other friends be like what???? I'm pretty sure that not everyone has this kind of experience with Scorpio Mercury but this is my experience, and this kind of thing happened with some family members with this placement too. They can get hostile pretty quick when they get jealous and it's tiring when undeveloped. Oftentimes, the kind of things that people here talk about how intuitive they are simply means they just being paranoid. The most intuitive people I know are people with water signs in their chart, but definitely not Scorpio Mercury people

People with a lot of air placement in their natal chart are way too chill to the point of being a pushover. You know one of those people who just let people do whatever they want? That's not water signs, that air signs. From outside point of view I gotta question whether they're just REALLY NICE or just stupid or just... don't care like they're numb as f*ck. I'm sorry ya'll lol. But once they stand up for themselves, there'll be no tears or anger or pain. They get sh*t done. They will involve doctors, legal teams, etc anything that are necessary. They also move on quickly, or seems like it... people should be wary of them

I always feel like Virgos are insecure as f*ck. The reason why they are so perfectionistic is because they are overcompensating.

Also the way Virgos try to do "good", is sometimes too ideal and too "by the book". Ya'll better pray they don't happen to read the wrong book lol. They are also too focus on these things and tend to dedicate themselves to perfection of these things that when the time comes for them to actually do good or help people, they just... don't. I rarely met Virgos who are "helpful" like people says

This is precisely why Virgos are usually a good model student, but once they graduate and work, what they do is just... do what the boss say, or do what the office "playbook" says

But on another note, this is make Virgos an easy prey for those who are controlling. They usually don't notice this, though. But thinking of one of my friend who is a Virgo and dated her own boss who is really old because he keeps complimenting her of being the best worker there, with the best grades, the best work ethics, etc and he promised her a good jobs (she did get the job though) but what she don't realize is that she was barely 19 when they first got together while he's in his 50s, he trashed her reputation, and make her work long hours even on weekends with no days off. Basically he controls her time, where she can go, what she can wear, who she can talk to, no wearing make up, etc

People with retrograde Juno will have a hard time getting married or will experience divorce in their life, at least once. This is because there's a lot of heal in regards to marriage or just a really important lesson they need to learn regarding marriage. They longed to have a married life but this is usually don't succeed in this area. They need to heal about their own perception of marriage or stop letting it define their entire existence

Moon square/opposite in synastry, especially in fixed signs are so fiercely loyal to each other. Like no matter what people say, what others do, they will hold onto each other and be so crazily stubborn about each other. I'm not sure if I've said this before but they might clash sometimes but no matter what they are so loyal to each other it hurts. It's like you try to raise one thing about this couple and they will be there in your face defending their love/relationship

Pluto in your chart doesn't just affect you, but affect whatever particular house that is in there and it's attained to change and transformations. For example, Pluto in 8th house isn't always about how sex or sexuality or secrets transform you, but you bring about change in others through these things. Perhaps sex with you is transformative to others or you hold certain secrets that may change lives. Pluto in 11th house isn't just about how your friends or how friendships in general help with your growth, but befriending you will bring about change in others through your friends witnessing your change/transformations

[rockpaperimpala]

So about Netflix's the Last Airbender....

I am literally so confused you guys. You made me think I would HATE this show. And I LOVED it. Me. Known perfectionist and hater.

Katara was lovely. Yes, she started as a more soft spoken character than her cartoon version, but she was still passionate and hopeful throughout, just visibly unsure of herself. I think people were thrown off by this actress' natural way of expressing herself, which is Different from animated katara for sure, but not bad. Then she spends the whole season growing in Confidence and Fire. I Adored her fight with Paku, it really did feel like a payout of the whole season's development, and the bending kicked ass!

The Bending Kicked ass!!! The martial arts was fun and fast and creative and exciting! It looked SO good. That alone would be enough reason for me to watch and enjoy any show.

Zuko's actor was fantastic. He really captured the rage and confusion of this 16 year old banished prince. And there were so many Added moments between him and Iroh wich to me enriched their relationship. Like YES! This is why I'm watching, to see more of them, to see things done a little differently.

Iroh facing the consequences of his actions at Ba Sing Se!! That's what I'm here for!

Zuko's relationship with the men on his ship! That's what I'm here for!

The Extra layers we get to Ozai manipulating his children!

Also no one is talking about Admiral Zhao, who I had SO much fun with. I feel like they slightly fleshed out his character in a really dramatic way, really developing the hubris and frankly insane grasping ambition of someone who would kill the moon. I completely enjoyed this wilder, less controlled version of him, who comes up through the season from basically nothing and no one!

I am OBSESSED with King BUMI and his anger and disillusionment with the world! Like this was SO real. Living a hundred years of futile war would do that!!!! It is one of my favorite changes to the whole series. This new layer of emotion and character depth is what I'm here for!

Sokka was SO funny. He literally had me laughing out loud so often. That actor GETs Sokka, and GETS the way his humor is delivered. And is also able to tap into the more vulnerable side of him. People said he was "obsessed" with leadership. WHAT? That is a young person trying desperately to do his best and to try and find his place in the world, to figure what he has to offer. I loved his pride at hearing the Mechanist say that he would make a good engineer, and the sweetness of the moment that Yue's father says that he can be a hero without being a warrior. Sokka does so much growth in this series, in understanding himself and life.

And his chemistry with Suki was adorable!! I even like him and Yue (who was a totally unexpected sweetheart, despite her terrible wig)!! Like he has that same ability that Sokka has in the original to Connect with people.

Aang was great! He WAS fun loving and sweet and funny. I don't know what you guys wanted. Cartoons are always bigger and more exaggerated than live action. People's eyes swell up an, birds fly around their heads, and there are funny sound effects. That larger than life quality is the strength of animation! You have to look for different strength in live action. Like the SUBTLETIES of the acting choices. This little actor brought so much kindness, innocence, and strength to Aang.

And I FELT his frustration at being asked to do this at 12, his fresh hope anytime it looked like someone more experienced would be able to help him and no one did, and that's why he didn't learn waterbending this season, because he kept waiting for an freaking ADULT to show him the way, to help him carry this immense burden, but every adult he meets asks him for help instead, asks him to carry it himself, and then the finale hits and he realizes that there won't be any adults helping, he does have figure this out himself, and he makes the hard choice, takes on responsibility more than his years and offers himself to the ocean spirit, and he might have been lost entirely if not for Katara!

And that counter running theme to the show pays off: that he doesn't have to do it alone. He may not have more experienced guidance, because the adults have let him down again and again, but his friends will be with him, and they will figure it out together!

This is there throughout the series! Katara tells him this about learning waterbending, when he says he still wants to wait. Bumi tells him this in the palace at Omashu, and Aang sees the faith he has in his friends repaid!

I like these changes! And the show still found time for silly fun adventures and character building moments.

The show was never going to be the animated original. That is already a Masterpiece, and it frankly did NOT need to be adapted at all. I did not WANT a live action adaptation. I was adamantly convinced I would hate it. But the changes that they netflix show gave are what I Iike most about it. If I want to see Zuko say "you rise with the moon, I rise with the sun," I will go watch the animated original, because that version is perfect. And now, if i want to see Zuko say "Lu ten would have been proud to have you as a father," and see iroh pull him into a tight hug, I can watch this live action version, which is very good too. I'm going to disagree with most of the people on here and say that the Netflix's Avatar: The Last Airbender, DOES capture the heart of what we liked about the original show. It's spirit, fun, excitement, and characters. And the changes made are the reason we should be watching.

[meganegatari]

how soon is now? | part two

READ THIS FIRST 🇵🇸

previous chapter. series masterlist.

♡: hallway crush!ellie x uni student!reader

☆: the long-awaited second part of this godforsaken fic (lawd she’s given me trouble). appreciate y'all's patience as always, i'm a chronic procrastinator and perfectionist but what can i do. after this, i'm gonna take a break from this series. not saying i'll never write more, but wanna work on some other stuff for a while. thank you for reading! pretty please don’t hate me or show up at my house waving torches and pitchforks for this ending ok luv u gays in my phone. + a big thank you to @total-dxmure for helping me w/ some ideas for the last little bit!

♧:5.7k word count (lawd)

◇: sfw! miscommunication (sawry). fluffy moments, angst lowkey…both of yall cry at one point or another, reader has anxiety in the last chunk. modern au but joel isn’t alive in this, and they discuss it. maybe some rushed points here and there, i’m not really the proudest of this but needed to finish it anyway. potentially horrendous pacing but ok i think that’s all? idfk i may give y’all a little epilogue eventually, but don't dwell on it for the time being!

4 months later 

Your friendship with Ellie was evolving wonderfully. You two were studying together frequently, and both your grades in the ghastly astrophysics class increased exponentially. Although that wasn't the only thing that was increasing at a rate too fast to fathom. Your crush on her. It was ripping you apart like wildfire, Ellie was proving herself to be such a wonderful person inside and out, and you were slowly but surely nearing your limit of how much it could build before you burst. A movie spin off of the Savage Starlight series had come to streaming, and Ellie had invited you to her place for a movie night so you two could watch it and discuss if it was a faithful entry in your beloved series or not. 

Dressed in some comfortable pjs and armed with snacks of all kinds, your favorites as well as hers, the time had come and you were at her door. You straighten your posture and put your hair back in place, must look presentable, then knock, knock, knock.

You could hear some faint shuffling behind the door, then a few thudding steps until she opened it for you. She was dressed in an old, worn Nirvana tee, and red checkered pajama pants, damn she looked good, even when she was dressed with less effort than usual. 

Ellie looked so pleased to see you, leaning on the doorframe. Why did she have to look so good all the time? “Hi! I’m so glad you came, ooh this is gonna be so fun.” She invited you in and took the snacks from your arms and placed them inside her room. “Oh yeah, I also put up some decor too so we can get into the Savage Starlight spirit.” Her eyes were wide and twinkling and when she stepped aside to let you see, she really had made her room so welcoming and comfortable.  

The lights were all off save for LEDs around the room’s perimeter set to a dreamy violet hue, sparkly fairy lights draped around the frame of her bed which was set up so cozily. Her laptop propped up on a pillow, the sheets arranged in a nest-like formation with two spaces for each of you. She even had a few dinosaur stuffed animals placed in a row so they could watch too.

You were so flattered she'd do that and make the atmosphere so nice for the two of you, you could just tackle her in a hug and never let go.

The thing is you were scared she'd perceive that as weird and you didn't feel like dying of embarrassment, not today at the very least. Save that for another day, maybe. Oh, how you wanted to squeeze her so bad. Your imagination had to do for now. 

She was standing there so proud of how she arranged her room into a mini theater, and you beamed at her, silently thanking her for making it so dim so she couldn't see your flustered expression in full.

“Ellie this is amazing!!” “You like it?!? These stupid lights kept on falling off but since this is an important occasion for us both I didn't give up. All for our love, Daniela.” She manipulated her voice and waved in the air with two fists, closed her eyes and put her hand over her heart, just being as dorky as ever.

Oh gosh, hopefully it wasn't going to be awkward. Sure, the two of you had grown to be great friends, but were you that close to be just, relaxing in her bed together? As long as your imagination didn't run too wild and you didn't overthink anything, it was going to be a fun time. Just two pals watching their favorite series, nothing more, nothing less.

She threw herself in the mess of comforters with a grunt, and saw you were hesitating. She patted the empty space next to her so you'd join her and the movie night could begin. “C’mere, don't be shy.” Well, no shit you were going to be shy. Suck it up. 

You crawled in next to her, unable to look her in the eyes, while she got everything ready and rubbed her hands together excitedly. “Man, if they do our girl dirty, we’re gonna have to give someone a knuckle sandwich, you with me?” Her jokes and easy going vibes always made her so fun to be around, but unfortunately for you, you fell harder for her every time. “Yeah, Ellie. A knuckle sandwich for all of them.” You retorted with a chuckle. Once both of you were settled, she pressed play and so it began.

As the movie played, the two of you laughed and debated every plot twist, cursing the directors for not portraying your queen Daniela how she deserves, and snacked on candy until your stomachs hurt. It was going so well, the friendly hang out both of you needed after so many responsibilities in life. An escape. Occasionally sneaking peeks Ellie’s way, she was just so marvelously pretty. The shadows dancing on her features, illuminating her side profile perfectly, her long eyelashes and button nose, who wouldn't get lost in admiring her?

Of course you could never fully relax around her, or forget the crush no matter how hard you tried to push it down and just be friends. Every time she shifted next to you in the bed you felt your heart seize and the butterflies in your stomach turn into hornets. At this rate, they were going to turn into whole birds for fuck’s sake.

Nearing the end of the movie, the two of you were so invested, so captivated in the events, totally spellbound.

But then the film took a more emotional turn that wasn't in the comics. Daniela and her father had an absolutely vicious argument which left the two of you speechless watching it, which luckily got quickly resolved right after the two characters had a near-death experience together.

You weren't one to get emotional over silly, trivial things like fiction, but the way they showed this entire sequence was nothing short of heart-wrenching. You snatched up one of Ellie's patterned pillows and hugged it tightly to your chest, because cuddling her would have been much too bold for the likes of you. But what you’d give to do that instead.

Seems you were not the only one touched by the scene, as you began to hear some light sniffling from next to you. Looking over at Ellie made your heart break further into a million pieces. She looked lost in thought with thin lines of tears streaming down her plump, freckled cheeks. 

You froze for a moment, not knowing the limits of your relationship with her and how you could comfort her best. So you cleared your throat and mumbled, “That was so sad…” You watched as she avoided your gaze and wiped at her face with the collar of her t-shirt, “Yeah, this kind of stuff hits me, feels a little personal y’know.” She has never opened up to you about her struggles before, in the short time you’ve known and gotten close with Ellie, it always seemed like she was there to help you out, not the other way around. This could be your chance to show her that you are there for her as well, and that she can always count on you.

Being curious but at the same time not wishing to pry too much into her private affairs, you quietly asked with the most gentle tone of voice you could muster,” You don’t have to, but I’m here if you ever wanna talk about it, Ellie.” You watched her out of the corner of your eye, anticipating however she reacts.

She stayed quiet for a beat before sighing deeply, and whispered, “We were having a fun time, I really don't wanna be a burden.” Her voice quivered, heavy with emotion, what could possibly be troubling her this much? You wanted to take all her pain and bear it yourself, she didn't deserve any sort of misfortune ever.

“You can tell me, don’t worry about anything, okay? I just want you to be all good.” You were comforting her so smoothly, putting her needs and well-being first as if it was always second nature, as if you two have known each other many lifetimes over, two souls meant to float together through the journey of life. Well okay, that was probably a bit much.

There were a few more seconds of silence as you let the question ring in the air, not wanting to press and jeopardize your cherished friendship with her. 

You continue observing her, almost seeing the gears turning in her mind, the scales of reason tipping to one side then another, as she contemplates whether it’s worth spilling. Eventually, she does.

She roughly rubs her face then pauses the film playing on her laptop, sighs and huffs, before beginning to speak her story, all while looking away from you.

“Okay I don’t like to talk about this kind of stuff, but I trust you. A whole lot.” Your heart fluttered and face heated up at her comment, but you ignored it because there was something much more important on the table now. She continues, speaking quietly but quickly to get it over with. 

“So, when I was a kid, I was an orphan and to be honest I don’t really remember my early childhood much at all, but when I was 14 my adoptive dad, Joel, took me in. And it’s been just us since then.” She stops to take a breath, then resumes reluctantly. “And well, we’ve had a pretty rocky relationship for a good chunk of these years, I never knew how to express my gratitude to him, y’know, for basically saving my life, numerous times at that. He was always my rock, and I appreciate him every day. He taught me so many things, and I don’t know what I would’ve done if he hadn’t come around. I was pretty hard to deal with back then.” She reminisces with an exhale of air, and you see her eyes refill with tears. “But I’m really bad at expressing that, and will kinda, lash out I guess when I’m met with kindness or tricky situations.” 

You nod, listening patiently, and place your hand on her shoulder ever so gently, as a result making her raise her head to give you a small smile. 

Ellie chuckled deeply, it almost sounded forced, then started to slowly wrap up her story. “And it seems that scene kinda hit me, because the wounds are still raw, or whatever.” 

She sniffles again but doesn't respond, so you delicately inquire, “What do you mean?”

“He died last year.” Oof.

“Oh my, Ellie, I’m so sorry, are you-” She interrupts your condolences. “No need for that, I’m fine. Well, taking it day by day y’know. In the beginning it was really tough, I was angry at everything but most at myself for being such a jerk, and now I can't turn back time and tell him all I wanted to.” While you take a moment to think about what to say, she hums to herself and remarks, “That actually felt good to get off my chest, I haven't told anyone about it.” She lowers her voice so it’s barely a whisper. “Didn't have who to tell.”

“Sure you're okay? I'm always here for you.” You find your voice back to soothe her some more, to which she smiles at you again, only this time it actually seems genuine. There's definitely a lot of pain behind it, but the relief that she doesn't have to deal with the burden alone was evident on her face. 

“Yeah, thanks. I guess I hadn’t processed anything, and that part of the movie made it all come out, damn I hate emotions sometimes. But I appreciate you being here for me. You're really easy to talk to, and I feel better now.” 

And you would've never in a trillion years anticipated what her next move was going to be, you were so caught off guard, the realization lagged and it didn't immediately register. 

She moved to sit on her knees in front of you, then threw her arms around your torso in a tight embrace. She hugged you. Clutched you so firmly against her own body, her strong hands landing in the middle of your back, where she rubbed in a circle. She smelled so nice, and was as warm as one of her heated stuffed animals. 

Due to the surprising nature of the motion you let out a dumbfounded gasp, then returned the hug allowing yourself to rest your head on her shoulder. You wanted to stay like this forever, until the end of time, it felt nicer than you could've ever imagined.

The thought crossed your mind that she could feel the buzz pulsating through your body, you swore your heart was slamming against your ribcage so hard it was going to grow wings and simply fly right out of your chest, and join hands with hers.

While you were occupied with the way she felt against you, so close like this, chest against chest, and how your cheeks blazed with an inferno hotter than a thousand suns, you heard her grumble against your ear. “Not gonna make that same mistake again, and from now on, I'm gonna tell the people I appreciate just how much they matter to me.”

You were much too stunned to speak, but she wasn't. “So thank you again.” She finishes her little speech and pulls away first, but not before giving you one last big squeeze and letting out a noise of contentment as she does so, then shuffles over to her previous spot in the bed. 

Not taking notice of the way you were at a loss for words, or about to set the room on fire with how flustered her actions made you. Her obliviousness was a common theme, it seemed. She clears her throat and claps, grabbing some more candy for herself, then says happily, “We still got the rest of the movie left, then we can do whatever after. I really wanna know how this ends.”

Naturally, your head is spinning, but you were too caught up in your thoughts to continue paying attention to the movie as much as you were before.

You felt awful for her, yet somehow, felt as if your crush on her had quadrupled in size yet again. You saw through the guard she put up, she broke down those walls and opened up to you. You were honored she trusted you so much, and only hoped that would never change. That, coupled with how remarkably good hugs she gave, has led you to the realization that you were properly in love now, things had gotten real. This was trouble. You vowed to always be there for her for whatever she could ever need, you'd drop everything to teleport by her side if you could. 

Goodness, what were you possibly going to do now, instead of giving you the ick, or helping you with the task of getting rid of that stupid infatuation you were so plagued by, every experience felt like a deliberate ploy to just make you fall even further for her. You couldn't help but wonder just how much love a person can feel for someone, because it only continued to grow. 

A couple days later.

Sitting in the cozy campus cafe, you were revising all your coursework. It was giving you a massive headache, but the warm and hazy lighting aided it a touch. The walls had cute plastic vines crawling up and down, and even though there was chatter all around you from the other patrons, it wasn't a distraction and in fact acted as some sort of white noise, everyone was talking in a nicely muted tone, it all blended to create the perfect ambience. 

You waved down the waitress to get yet another cup of coffee, your third one of the night, that’s healthy, before trying to resume with your aggravating studies. 

To your dismay, you've used up all your brain power for the evening, and could not force yourself to continue no matter how hard you tried. Maybe a few moments of peaceful people-watching would get you back on track?

You sip on the hot drink, then lean back against the comfortable booth seat to begin scanning around.

In one corner directly on the opposite side of where you were sitting, there was an elderly couple. They looked so in love, dressed in matching outfits, feeding each other as they shared a dessert, holding hands and conversing with a hushed tone, nodding and looking into each other's twinkling eyes. So cute, you hoped that was going to be you in the future. 

Moving your line of sight to watch beside the couple, there was another student, their books and computer were scattered across the wooden table, piles of pens and pencil cases near falling over. They seemed to have fallen asleep, unmoving with their head laid tiredly across their crossed arms. The sight made you chuckle out of familiarity, you really felt for them, studies were hard. 

But then a sound caught your attention. A bright, husky giggle fought its way over the ambience, reminiscent of a certain someone. 

Your heart jumped, your ears perked up and you immediately became insistent on scouting her out among the patrons, this was a necessary mission. 

Feeling highly nervous and antsy, you try to drown out the noise and focus on where she could be, and quickly enough, you find her.

Ellie in her natural habitat, she was so mesmerizing. Sitting far away from you where you could get a good view and hear snippets of conversation if you focused hard enough, but not close enough where she would notice your shameless gawking. She was sitting with a group of a handful of her friends, who all appeared to be gossiping and laughing with each other, you couldn't tear your eyes away.

Her smile was gorgeous, and you knew that, but there was something about just being a spectator which fascinated you, you could stare at her all day. Her energy lit up the entire room, and made your heart race.

Snapping out of your trance and trying to not be so obvious with your staring, you tried to look occupied, tried reorganizing your notes while still keeping an ear out to listen. Occasionally glancing over as  well. Yes, it's true that eavesdropping is wrong, but you couldn't help yourself. Anyone would do the same, right?

The group's passionate discussion was making you extremely curious however, and you strained to hear what they were talking about. Among the muffled chatter, you heard a woman’s voice say the word crush, then an outburst of laughter, the loudest guffaw from Ellie herself. 

You felt the budding panic start to form in your chest momentarily, but swallowed the lump forming in your throat and took a sharp intake of breath to calm yourself at once. They could be talking about anything, there's no need to jump to conclusions just yet. Fumbling around your bag for your headphones to listen to some of the song recommendations Ellie had given you, you’re led to discover that they are, in fact, dead. Of course. 

Despite any and all wishes to stop eavesdropping on them and mind your own business and abide by what they say, ignorance is bliss, you simply couldn't. She was too damn captivating. Like a painting in a museum, like a statue at a town’s center, one that people stopped in their tracks to admire. 

The way her eyes sparkled and gleamed under the warm lighting, her cheeks tinted a faint rosy hue from the exertion of laughing so hard, her sweet smile. She was too perfect. God, you hated crushes, being infatuated with someone to this degree couldn't be healthy. But what could you do? Just look at this angel.

Fidgeting nervously while still being entranced by the group of friends, you heard a man’s voice say the words “there’s no way”, followed by Ellie howling even harder than she had the whole time you've been watching them, and punch him forcefully on the shoulder. 

The curiosity was going to swallow you whole, it was like a car crash you couldn't look away from. You felt your palms begin to tremble and sweat with worry, and anxious assumptions of all kinds running through your mind, were they talking about you? No, they couldn't be, you're just overthinking it. Relax, relax, relax.

You tried your hardest to control your breathing and soothe your spinning mind so you wouldn't spiral, until you heard something that absolutely shook you to your core.

The same woman from before, not Ellie, in a highly teasing tone of voice said your name.

You felt frozen, this couldn't be happening. All your worst fears were coming true at this very moment. You had to get out of there right away, this was too much to bear. Curiosity really did kill the cat didn't it, you wished you didn't comply with the morbid desire to know everything. 

Panic-stricken like a deer in headlights, near hyperventilating at this point, the final straw was all three of them erupting into laughter simultaneously, with Ellie through gasps, going "oh come onnnn”.

Yeah that was it. Hot tears started pricking your eyes and you vigorously blinked them away before they started streaming down your face, as if you needed to be humiliated even more. You felt sadded, torn apart, betrayed. Sick to your stomach too. This time, for once, you really thought you had something going for you. From your perspective, albeit through rose-colored glasses, you were convinced she was being genuine with you all this time. How could you not be? 

The late night study sessions, the air thick with tension, the conversations draped in a sleep-deprived haze, the walks to class together, the first fated interaction, the looks you two shared from across the huge lecture hall; the looks where you two just knew when to share a glance, was all of that fake? Was she leading you on purposefully because her friends thought it was funny, that you were a joke?

The tears threatened to spill and your stomach twisted painfully with the world-shattering realizations you were just served with, and you angrily shoved your belongings in your bag.

You were too caught up in your panicked frenzy to notice how disruptive you were actually being, your textbooks thumping and keychains jingling, but frankly didn't care enough to meet the numerous pairs of eyes observing your misfortune. Who could blame you, your whole world and everything you've known just crumbled before you. 

You slung your bag over your shoulder noisily as a choked sob made its way up your throat, then speed-walked out of that cafe. You were never going to be able to go in there again unfortunately, shame, their pastries were so good.

Right as you tried to step through the door it got stuck, because the universe was being really nice to you today, and as you tugged on it to get it to open, you heard the friends lower their voices, but you could still make out a jumble of hushed words sounding something like, “oh no, is that…” Great, great, fucking great. The only solution to this was to change your name and ride up to Seattle for goodness’ sake, maybe throw yourself into a volcano as well just because. 

Finally the door swung open after what felt like eons, and you stumbled outside into the chilly autumn air, feeling goosebumps spring up all over. Where you were going, you didn't really know. This cafe was new, so it would take some time to figure out navigation so you stood dumbly in the middle of the front lawn as you tried to orient yourself.

Once you think you've got it, you start your agonizing trek back to your little room, screaming inside of your head, until you're harshly yanked back mid-footstep by a vice grip on your arm. What the fuck was it now. 

Ellie. The sight of her only made your tears increase in quantity and the emotion in your chest tighten. She looked a little disheveled, her eyes round like saucers, and she was gripping onto your arm so hard as if you were going to run away. You wanted to, but she still had a magnetic hold on you, even after all that turmoil. 

Talking was painful with how much you were trying to keep a hold of yourself, but you managed out a choked, “Ellie, what?” 

She looked befuddled, shaking her head ever so slightly and scrunching up her eyebrows, her gaze boring right into yours and following whenever you tried to break it and look elsewhere. Her hold on your arm softens, and moves to rest on your shoulder. “What do you mean what? You ran outta there like you were chased by a lunatic or something, what the fuck happened?”

Her tone startled you a little, why did she care so much? Noticing you jolt, she sighs and mellows her speech. “Sorry, what I mean to say is, I'm worried. Are you okay?” 

You worried her? Heat rushed to your cheeks as you fought to break the increasingly uncomfortable eye contact, and all you could do was shrug. Your lip started quivering and you were losing the fight of keeping your composure, how wonderful. Despite everything she was being so sweet, way too sweet. You felt helpless at this point. 

The words started pouring out of your mouth like a waterfall, you were properly sobbing now, falling apart and hiccuping as months and months of emotion spilled over. 

You were blabbering about how you loved the friendship you formed with her, but how hurt you felt that she’d laugh about you, every possible insecurity just tumbled out of your lips, as you wiped at your teary face and runny nose and glanced at Ellie ever so often. 

She let you talk for a bit until she saw you get even more upset, that's when she got a step closer to you, squeezed both your shoulders gently and kept a stern tone of voice to get your attention.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, slow down, I don't know what you're saying.” But you couldn't stop crying. Bottling up emotions was definitely a bad idea, because they were bound to burst sooner or later and unfortunately, you reached the breaking point. Sucking in some unsteady breaths as an attempt to regulate yourself, she was watching you patiently yet still cautiously. 

Your voice was weak and shaky, but you were slowly feeling a little better. For the first time during this interaction, you meet her eyes. Why was she always so pretty? She was sculpted just to spite you, you were convinced. Tears welled up in your eyes once more, but you blinked them away. “Um…Ellie…” She nodded expectantly, wanting to know what was wrong. But you could not complete your sentence as yet another bout of ache washed over you.

To snap you out of it once and for all, Ellie grabbed your face. The sheer disbelief of her action was enough to stop your tears luckily, and she held your gaze while she used her thumb to swipe at the stray teardrops adorning your cheekbones. You wanted to die, what was going on?

Once your panic was replaced with fluster and stupefaction, she let you go, but was still standing really close to you. You felt jittery from it all, nervous, embarrassed and in love and everything under the sun all at the same time. You stared at her, then looked away, then looked at her plump pink lips which were set in a questioning pout, then back up to her sympathetic greener-than-grass eyes, fuck, fuck, fuck. The intensity of the situation had caused any sense of judgment or critical thinking to long, long gone, and so your body moved on its own and before you had a chance to form a solid thought or process what you were doing.

Smooch.

You kissed her. 

Mouths colliding like magnets as you held onto the sides of her face, fireworks igniting in every single part of your body. Cradling her jaw as you closed the space between you two, the hurricane of emotion coursing through your veins as your lips caressed hers, and time felt like it had stopped. The months and months of excruciating pining had all led up to this very moment. 

She instinctively kissed you back, you felt her breaths fanning your face. You were about to ascend to another dimension. Lingering against her for a little longer, you forced yourself to regretfully pull away, and laughed loudly at her state now. 

Her lips were parted and she was gawking at you, you had broken her completely. Your own heart was working overtime, you were panting from the adrenaline of the situation, and could only hear the blood rushing in your ears. 

She seemed to be in a coma, doing nothing but staring and breathing. You punched her arm playfully, your voice breaking.

“I’M IN LOVE WITH YOU, YOU FUCKING IDIOT.” 

An frustrated confession tore itself from your throat, even the world's strongest iron bars couldn't contain it. You wiped at your face with your sleeves, a sad attempt to clear it of the residual salty tears that never once stopped their journey out of your eyes.

The sadness had left you, and you felt lighter now, truthfully. Had no idea how you would ever face her again after all this, but at least the cat was out of the bag and you had gotten that off of your chest. You both stood there in silence, now what was wrong with her? What a dork. Sucking on your teeth and kicking a pebble on the ground you admitted finally, “So, yeah. That's what's been troubling me, I guess.” 

Her pupils were dilated and huge, as she scanned all over your features, her mouth opening and closing as if she was having an internal battle of what to say. She stood there almost appearing miles more shocked than you somehow, she looked as if she was going to have a heart attack and die on you, you found it funny, but concerning at the same time. 

You watched her for a moment more, before accepting your disappointing fate and bidding her a goodbye. You cleared your throat. “Okay then. Cya in class. Bye.” You turned on your heel and began the walk back to your room, but this time for real, and didn't look back at her. Even if you wanted to, you couldn't, you wanted to leave this whole fiasco in the past. That chapter was closed, it seemed. 

The only thing left to do now was call your bestie, Abby. She has been your cheerleader through this whole thing, through all this time, gave you advice and brought you back to Earth, and you needed her support now more than ever. 

Right after you reached your dorm she was there in no time at all, after receiving your distress call she scrambled into action, with chocolates and boxed wine in hand. Maybe you should just date her instead at this point. Who else was left for you?

You talked and talked and talked to her about everything for so long, talking the night away just like old times, and she sat and listened to your every word, patted your back reassuringly as you weeped into her shoulder, then tucked you into bed at the end of it all. She left only when she was sure you'd relaxed fully.

You didn't fall asleep quite yet, and stayed awake thinking, pondering life and staring up at your ceiling. It turns out angrily confessing to the girl you've been infatuated with forever by impulsively kissing her and letting the whole campus know it was a tiring thing after all. You really did cause a bit of a scene, when you thought about it in hindsight.

But what was this all like from Ellie's perspective? You wished you could know what she thought, or at least gotten some sort of formal response. Her friend storms out of a cafe, kisses her and screams she's in love with her? It's certainly understandable she'd feel a little lost, or under great pressure to give you an answer. Her reaction did make sense though, after being met with such a shocking revelation. Wow, now that you were really thinking about it, she still did not know why you ran out of the cafe like that. You wished you could turn back time and redo this day, shame that wasn't possible. Were you two ever going to have a discussion about this, or had you just lost a friend for life. Oh no, you pushed that thought away as quickly as it appeared, you didn't have an ounce of energy left over to dwell on it.

You'd work out what you were going to face her next later, a very well-deserved visit to dreamland was way overdue. You felt your eyelids grow heavy and your breathing slow, so you turned on your side and snuggled into your bed, eventually falling into a deep, deep sleep.

Meanwhile on your bedside table:

Bzz, bzz, bzz. 

lovely taggies: @lasting-lover @radioheadfan699 @sophie-thefrog8 @machetegirl109 @ellieschair @aouiaa @wavesgocrash @tangerinngi @elliesbitchvenus @amiorca @dinaissoprettyoml @rxreaqia @camicocom1a @elliesexual @smelliewilliams @boobdrug @writing-on-a-bathroom-stall @bready101 @yourelliewillms @ap3arll @bunnyrose01 @elliesactualgirlfriend @paranoiero @sakiigami @4ftergloww @ellstronaut @vqxen @desireesfics @lez-zuha @dyk3ang3l @iluvellie0089 @tphmnv @seraphicsentences @seaseasalts @biblically-accurate-ellie @deliriousrn @pxterpfx + a very special tag to @fleshunger hehe :)

if i wasn't able to tag you, investigate the issue somewhere in your settings!

[violetsquare111]

perhaps overly rambly thoughts on the influencer arc

it is very hard to watch but i don't think it's contrary to what we know of green, and i'm enjoying it just fine.

we know green is a showoff and perfectionist. the color gang all like winning, but green likes making a big display of it too. he's quite a sore winner and loser, and hates having the spotlight taken from him when it is his.

he loves attention and praise. and like, that's okay, don't we all? he cares about his friends in the end.

but i get the feeling that, while they love him and appreciate his talents, his friends don't really give him that big attention that he might want. they're used to him winning and being good at art/performance of any kind. it's normal to them really. maybe even a little disheartening.

so i can easily see how getting that attention in the form of being an influencer is a huge thing for green. an addiction, even. he gets so drawn into it that he overlooks his friends' discomfort, so he can keep being the Perfect Celebrity, keep the hype going.

obviously this end outcome here isn't actually what he wanted, and i'm sure he feels guilt for all this on some level. but he's pushed that away in favor of the high of getting a number to go up, getting more of the spotlight. there's nothing else that matters right now but getting that new dopamine hit. again, it is an addiction.

surely his friends will come around. why don't they get it? this is a good thing for him. he's winning. he's harsh, yes, but he's just trying to be successful. his friends aren't actually hurt (they are), they're doing fine (they're not), what's the issue? (everything.)

i don't think current green is character assassination - right now he's doing horribly and hurting the people around him because he is at his lowest, the worst version of himself where his flaws overtake him. it can go up from here. i have no doubt that by the end of this green is going to get some sense shaken into him and make up with his friends. like, that's just the kind of series this is.

and despite all the character analysis i just did lol - i ALSO think it's important to remember that we are probably taking every little action of these characters infinitely more seriously than the creators are. while the series sometimes dips its toes (or entire face) into being a dramatic and beautiful story, it is ultimately a cartoon, and sometimes the character writing will be put on the back burner for a moment in favor of a gag or an overall episode arc. and that's fine! nothing they're doing is unprecedented for the characters they've set up, and i think they'll wrap this up alright.

[jungkoode]

死 KKANGPAE | #03 死

† breakfast and training †

"His eyes are the kind of dark that makes you forget there was ever light in the world. And you hate that you're starting to notice details about him."

next | index

⚔ chapter details ⚔

word count: 5.4k

rating: mature

content: training violence, weapons, strong language, sexual tension

☠ author's note ☠

HELLO MY FELLOW SLEEP-DEPRIVED CREATURES. Welcome back to another episode of "Kiki makes questionable life choices and writes fanfiction instead of sleeping"!

Can we talk about how I wrote like three different versions of the gun scene before my perfectionist brain was satisfied? And by satisfied I mean "fine whatever just post it I guess." Don't @ me about gun accuracy, I play Call of Duty sometimes that's research enough (ㆆᴗㆆ)

Also yes, I am absolutely living for the whole "oh no they're training together" trope. Sue me. Or don't, I'm broke. All I have is caffeine and the ability to make my characters suffer. Speaking of which - Jeon in combat mode? chef's kiss My boy is out there being all professional and grumpy while Y/N is just trying her best not to get shot. We love that for them.

PSA: The whole "Cookie" thing was totally self-indulgent and I regret nothing. V is here to cause chaos and honestly? Goals.

Special shoutout to my cat who watched me write this at 3 AM and judged me silently. You're the best beta reader a girl could ask for, even if your only feedback is knocking my coffee over.

See you next Tuesday, you beautiful disasters! Remember: sleep is for the weak and fanfiction is for life.

crawls back into writing cave while mainlining espresso

Kiki

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tumblr/twitter: @jungkoode

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎

Mornings in the castle hit different. Through your window, the sky's doing that thing where it can't decide if it's still night or already dawn—all soft blues mixing with hints of gold. Everything's quiet, like the world's holding its breath.

Then your alarm goes off.

"Why did we agree to this again?" Yunjin whines from her bed, fumbling to shut up the annoying buzz. Her pink hair is a mess, splayed across her pillow like cotton candy gone wrong.

"Croissants," you remind her, stretching until your joints pop. "Fresh, buttery, heavenly croissants."

"Not hungry." She burrows deeper into her blanket cocoon. "Too early for hunger. Too early for existing."

You swing your legs off the bed, bare feet hitting the cold floor. "What happened to yesterday's 'new me, new goals' speech?"

"That was yesterday's Yunjin. Today's Yunjin chooses sleep."

With a snort, you pad over to her bed. It's literally two steps away—your shared room is cozy like that, with just enough space for two singles and matching bedside tables. You give her shoulder a gentle shake.

"And what's tomorrow's Yunjin gonna think about that?"

"Tomorrow's Yunjin's problem," she mumbles, death-gripping her blanket. Smart girl. She knows your next move would've been stealing it.

"Then it's tomorrow's me problem too!" You can't help but laugh, and it finally gets her to peek one eye open.

She lets out the longest, most dramatic sigh. "Fine. Fine. You win."

Your shared laughter is soft, comfortable. It's weird how quickly Yunjin became your person here. Maybe because she's as new to this as you are—no pressure to measure up to badasses like Chaewon or keep your guard up around intimidating figures like V and Jeon.

She joined two months before you did. For her, it meant saying goodbye to having her own room, but she says it was worth the trade-off. Girl's a mess when it comes to sleep schedules, but she keeps your shared space spotless and her determination is s̶c̶a̶r̶y̶ impressive. Like, you've seen her practice seduction techniques until 3 AM, and now here she is, dragging herself up at dawn for... well, croissants and self-improvement.

There's something genuinely good about Yunjin. She's always there—to help, to listen, to just be. Five months in and everyone in Seduction already adores her. Yeah, she's clumsy as hell during physical training, but her mind is sharp. Nothing gets past her—it's like she's got a built-in lie detector.

After yesterday morning's... incident, you're extra grateful for her company.

You both grab your digital cards from your bedside tables—can't go anywhere in this place without them. They're basically your whole identity here, determining which doors open for you and which stay firmly shut.

The castle corridors feel endless this early. Most members are probably still sleeping or doing whatever gang members do at dawn. Your footsteps echo softly as you and Yunjin make your way to the cafeteria, keeping the conversation light.

"Have you had breakfast here before?" you ask, watching her stifle another yawn.

"Once." She nods, her pink ponytail bouncing. "Got up at 10 though. Wasn't worth sacrificing sleep for."

You can't help but smile. "Early breakfast hits different. You'll see."

When you reach the cafeteria, Yunjin taps her digital card against the scanner. The light blinks green, and suddenly your nose is filled with the heavenly smell of fresh pastries. Inside, only a handful of early birds are scattered around the massive space. Makes sense—most people here prefer their beds at this hour.

Your eyes do their usual sweep of the room, casual and practiced. But then something pulls at you, like a magnet finding true north. Your gaze locks with dark, piercing ones.

Jeon.

"Oh, that's Jeon, right?" Yunjin's voice cuts through your thoughts. "Guess he likes mornings too."

You nod, still watching him from the safety of the doorway. Something about the distance makes you feel almost safe. He's got that thing about him—that unmistakable aura of authority that even 6 AM can't dim.

"Damn," Yunjin says after a beat, blunt as ever. "He's hot."

"Let's get food," you mutter, rolling your eyes and heading for the pastry section.

You and Yunjin load up your plates with a bit of everything, especially those famous croissants. Finding a quiet corner, you settle in to enjoy both the food and each other's company, pointedly not thinking about piercing dark eyes or brooding corners.

You try to look casual as your eyes drift back to Jeon for the hundredth time.

He's sitting there, both hands wrapped around a steaming cup of coffee like it's his lifeline to sanity this early in the morning. The sight of those tattooed fingers curled around plain white ceramic does something to your brain that you'd rather not examine too closely.

"You know, I heard something interesting about him." Yunjin's voice makes you jump. S̶h̶i̶t̶ Great, she caught you staring.

"Oh?" You tilt your head, hoping your voice sounds more curious than guilty.

Yunjin leans in conspiratorially, her pink hair falling forward as she drops her voice to barely above a whisper. It's kind of unnecessary given how far away Jeon is, but there's something about him that makes everyone speak in hushed tones.

"Apparently, he's got this whole... ritual thing going on. Every single morning, without fail, he makes sure he's the first one to get fresh coffee. Like, the first cup from a fresh pot."

Your eyes track back to that cup held between ink-covered fingers. Now that she mentions it, you've never seen him drink anything else in the mornings. The way he's savoring it, eyes closed and expression almost peaceful, makes you think Yunjin might be onto something.

"Every day? He's literally the first one here?" The mental image of Jeon lurking outside the cafeteria doors, waiting for them to unlock, is both hilarious and weirdly endearing.

"From what I've heard. Maybe it's a power move?" Yunjin suggests with a soft laugh. "You know, asserting dominance through caffeine consumption."

The idea of someone as intimidating as Jeon—co-leader of the Assassination Division, member of the Council of 9, literal professional killer—climbing the ranks of one of South Korea's most dangerous gangs just to secure his morning coffee makes something bubble up in your chest.. You have to bite your lip to keep from laughing too loud.

"Imagine that being his master plan all along," you snort. "Join gang, become assassination chief, get first dibs on coffee."

You both dissolve into quiet giggles, but the moment shatters when something shifts in the air. It's like thorny vines suddenly wrapping around your lungs, making it hard to breathe. You don't need to look to know who it is.

"Mind if I join the fun?" V's voice slides over your skin like honey laced with poison, playful but with that edge that makes your hair stand on end.

His arms drape over your shoulders without warning, caging you and Yunjin in what should be a friendly gesture but feels more like being trapped. Your muscles tense automatically. There's something about V that keeps you perpetually on edge—like admiring a rose only to remember it's got thorns that could draw blood.

Yunjin manages a wobbly smile, but you can tell she's as unsettled as you are by his sudden appearance. "We were just... talking about coffee."

"Coffee?" V drawls the word like it personally offends him. He pulls back, throwing his arms behind his head in that carelessly graceful way of his, but stays close enough that you can smell cinnamon. "Boring. Now, this new training program? That's something worth discussing."

His eyes glint with mischief, reminding you of a cat playing with its food. "I'm keen to see what you girls bring to the table. Should be... intriguing, don't you think?"

The way he says it makes your skin crawl. There's nothing overtly threatening about his words, but the undercurrent is clear—the Assassination Division isn't known for playing nice, and V seems to view the upcoming cross-training as his personal playground.

"I'm sure it will be enlightening," you say carefully.

V's energy is infectious, but not in a good way. More like a disease you're trying not to catch.

He chuckles, and those thorny vines around your lungs squeeze tighter. "Oh, I'm sure it will be. And don't worry, yours truly will be there to add a little spice to the mix. Can't let things get too dull, can we?"

Before you can respond, his attention snaps to something—or someone—across the cafeteria. With a dismissive wave that somehow manages to feel both elegant and insulting, he strides off as suddenly as he appeared.

You exchange looks with Yunjin, both of you sagging with relief once he's gone. She looks as drained as you feel, like V's presence alone sucked all the energy from the room.

"Well, that was... something," Yunjin says, and you could write a whole essay about everything packed into that single word. Her pink hair is still slightly disheveled from where V's dramatic entrance messed it up.

"That's one way to put it." You try to shake off the phantom feeling of thorny vines around your lungs. V's presence leaves you feeling like you've been through some kind of emotional washing machine—tumbled around and wrung out.

"But oh my god." Yunjin's whole face suddenly lights up like she's remembered something amazing. The whiplash from her mood shift almost gives you vertigo.

"What?" You ask, though part of you already knows where this is going. Yunjin might be shy and perceptive, but she's also a total simp when it comes to pretty faces.

"He is SO handsome?" Her voice rises with genuine awe. "Everyone kept saying he looks like a prince, but I thought they were exaggerating. They were not."

You raise an eyebrow, wondering if you were even in the same conversation just now. Sure, V's gorgeous—that's kind of his whole thing. The dangerous beauty, the dripping poison. But after feeling his aura wrap around you like a boa constrictor, 'handsome' isn't exactly the first word that comes to mind.

"Did you miss the whole creepy vibe?" You keep your voice low, even though V's long gone. Some habits die hard in this place. "He talked about the training program like he's planning to turn it into his personal episode of Squid Game. With popcorn."

"Yeah, but like..." Yunjin waves her hand dismissively, "have you seen his face? Those cheekbones? That jawline?"

"The way he's probably plotting our deaths as we speak?" You counter, but you can't help the smile tugging at your lips. Trust Yunjin to focus on the aesthetics while completely ignoring the red flags. It's kind of adorable, in a concerning way.

"Doesn't change the fact that he's eye candy," she says with zero shame, stabbing her fork into her breakfast. "Like, premium, expensive, imported chocolate level of eye candy."

"True," you admit, finally taking a proper bite of your croissant.

And it is true—V's got that whole ethereal beauty thing going on, like a masterpiece painting that happens to be slightly cursed. The kind of face that belongs in museums but also probably comes alive at night to terrorize security guards.

But even as you acknowledge V's obvious appeal, your eyes betray you, drifting back to that other corner of the cafeteria. Back to dark eyes and hurricanes.

Back to Jeon.

It's not like you mean to look.

It just... happens.

Like your gaze has some kind of magnetic programming that keeps pulling it in his direction.

Which is s̶t̶u̶p̶i̶d̶ inconvenient because the last thing you need is to get caught staring at one of the most dangerous men in Kkangpae while you've got croissant crumbs on your face.

The rest of your morning slips by without V popping up again to make your skin crawl. You try to focus on getting ready for what's coming, but your mind keeps drifting to the upcoming training.

Working with Jeon and V's division? Yeah, that's not anxiety-inducing at all.

When you step onto the training field outside the castle, the change of scenery hits different. After being cooped up in the gang's concrete maze, the open space and towering trees feel almost surreal. The cold morning air bites at your lungs—a wake-up call you didn't ask for but probably need.

Today's not just another training day. It's your first cross-training with the Assassination Division, and the tension in the air is so thick you could cut it with one of V's knives.

Your stomach does this weird flip-flop thing as you walk towards the gathering crowd. Working with Jeon after... that incident? Not exactly on your bucket list. The memory of your last encounter sits heavy in your chest, making each step feel like you're walking through mud.

The Assassination Division is already there when you arrive, looking like they stepped out of some action movie poster. Some look ready to murder, others look ready for a nap. But it's Jeon who catches your eye—impossible not to, really. It's like the air itself is swirling around him like a storm about to break.

He's got that look on his face—you know the one. All business, no bullshit, could probably kill you with his pinky finger.

No sign of V though.

Makes sense, when you think about it. Those two aren't exactly besties—more like two wolves forced to share the same territory. Their whole approach to killing is different as night and day.

Jeon's all about precision. Clean shots, minimal mess, maximum efficiency. He's the type to plan every detail, calculate every variable. Need someone taken out from two buildings away without anyone even knowing what happened? That's his specialty. The human equivalent of a surgical strike.

V though? He's chaos incarnate. Gets up close and personal with his kills, leaves a message written in blood if he feels like it. He's the guy you call when you want someone dead and don't care how messy it gets. Planning? Fuck planning—V works on pure instinct and improvisation.

The crowd goes quiet as Jeon steps forward. The atmosphere shifts, less like a raging storm now and more like the heavy air before thunder breaks. When he speaks, his voice does that thing where it demands attention without actually raising in volume. And despite everything—despite knowing better—you find yourself leaning in slightly to catch every word.

"Your state of mind is everything in this line of work," he says, dark eyes scanning the crowd like he's reading everyone's potential in real time. "A calm, collected mind can mean the difference between life and death."

The task he lays out seems simple enough: shoot the cardboard target, hit the center, don't mess it up. But as you watch others take their turns, that knot in your stomach keeps getting tighter.

The gun feels wrong in your hand. Not that you haven't held one before—basic training covers that—but this is different. This is him watching, and somehow that makes your palms extra sweaty.

Then your turn's up.

Walking to the mark feels like crossing a minefield, every step measured and tense. Your heart's going so hard you can barely hear anything else.

Focus. You need to focus.

But Jeon's standing right there, making the air thick and hard to breathe. Your finger hovers over the trigger, but doubt creeps in like poison.

The target blurs in and out. You can feel Jeon watching, that heavy gaze picking apart every flaw in your stance. The pressure builds in your chest until you're sure something's gonna snap.

Just a bit longer. You need to be absolutely sure before taking the shot.

It's not like Seduction gets much practice with actual weapons—your arsenal usually involves batting eyelashes and strategic flirting, not bullets and gunpowder. So it's no wonder the gun starts slipping through your sweaty fingers.

You tighten your grip. A surge of determination hits you like a shot of adrenaline. Come on. It's just cardboard. You've handled way worse situations than this. You can do this.

Your finger starts to squeeze the trigger—

BANG.

That... wasn't your gun.

You flinch, turning toward the sound before you can stop yourself. Through the corner of your eye, you catch smoke curling from Jeon's pistol.

He's standing there looking bored, arm extended like this is just another one of his daily mornings. The gun fits his hand like it was molded for him, an extension of his body rather than a weapon.

When your eyes snap to the target, there it is—perfect shot, dead center, because of course it is.

A̶s̶s̶h̶o̶l̶e̶ Show-off.

You lower your gun, lips pressed tight. His gaze sits heavy on your shoulders, hurricane pressure bearing down until you want to scream. His face gives nothing away, but those dark eyes say plenty—and none of it's good.

"If you're not quick enough, you'll get killed." His voice cuts like ice. "Let that be a reminder for everyone else."

The words hit like a slap. Heat rushes to your face—anger, embarrassment, frustration, all mixing together into something that makes you want to either punch something or crawl into a hole. Preferably punch him, but you're very aware of everyone watching this little show he's putting on.

Both divisions are staring, and you've never felt more like a fish in a very small, very exposed bowl.

Your eyes meet Jeon's, and suddenly breathing gets hard. His stare hits different—those dark eyes boring into yours like he's trying to read your soul, pupils blown wide in a way that makes your stomach do weird flips.

That silver lip ring catches the light when his mouth twists into something s̶e̶x̶y̶ condescending. He opens his mouth—probably to tear into you some more—but then—

BANG.

Everyone drops like puppets with cut strings. Pure instinct.

It's instant chaos. Voices rise into a crescendo of shouts and commands, bodies moving with practiced urgency.

It's kind of beautiful, in a messed-up way—how quickly personal beef gets shelved when shit hits the fan. One minute Jeon's looking at you like you're dirt on his boot, next second he's barking orders to keep everyone safe.

Your heart's in your throat as you scan the crowd for a flash of pink hair.

Yunjin.

But Yunjin's nowhere.

The sea of faces blurs together—no Kazuha, no Eunchae, not even Sakura. Even Chaewon's vanished, which is weird because she's usually got this sixth sense about danger.

Another shot cracks through the air. Your fingers tighten around your gun until your knuckles go white. Your eyes keep drifting to the treeline, where shadows dance between patches of dark green.

A calm, collected mind can mean the difference between life and death.

His words echo in your head, which is ironic considering how not calm you feel right now.

Fuck it.

You're moving before you can second-guess yourself, legs carrying you toward the forest. Maybe it's stupid, but you need space to think. To be calm, like he said.

Plus, the trees might give you cover—an advantage you desperately need right now.

The forest swallows you up. Sunlight filters through leaves overhead, painting everything in shifting patterns of light and shadow. Every step crunches on dead leaves, making you wince. So much for stealth.

V wouldn't be happy.

The chaos from the training ground fades the deeper you go, replaced by normal forest sounds—birds chattering overhead, small animals rustling in the bushes. It's almost peaceful, if you ignore the whole possible death situation.

You spot it then—a ridge overlooking the training ground, hidden behind thick bushes. Perfect vantage point, if you can reach it. The climb makes your muscles burn, but you manage. Up here, you force yourself to breathe slow and steady, trying to quiet your racing heart. Your fingers trace the gun's cold metal like a lifeline.

Your back hits the tree with a thud. The bark scrapes against your spine through your shirt, but you barely notice. Every nerve in your body is focused on that rustling sound behind you.

Footsteps.

Your breath catches. They're quiet—too quiet to be some random person stumbling through the woods.

No, these are the steps of someone who knows how to move silently. Someone trained.

Adrenaline floods your system as you press yourself flatter against the tree. Your fingers tighten around the gun until your knuckles go white. Through a gap in the leaves, you try to catch a glimpse of whoever's approaching, but the foliage is too thick.

Friend or foe?

The question pounds in your head with each careful footstep drawing closer. Your mind races, too many possibilities—it could be an enemy, could be another member searching the area.

Could be death or salvation walking your way.

The steps are almost upon you now. Your breathing goes shallow, controlled. You might be exposed up here, but they don't know that. Surprise is your only advantage right now.

Shoot or strike?

The dilemma tears at you. A gunshot would alert everyone to your location. And if it turns out to be an ally... F̶u̶c̶k̶ No. Hand-to-hand is safer. Quieter. Less explaining to do if you're wrong.

Your muscles coil tight as a spring. When the footsteps are close enough, you launch yourself from behind the tree in one fluid motion, aiming to take them down hard and fast.

Instead, you slam into what feels like a brick wall.

Oh.

It's Jeon.

His reflexes are insane—before you can even process who he is, he's already moving. The air sweeps around you as he twists, disarming you with embarrassing ease. Your gun hits the ground with a clatter that seems to echo through the whole forest.

Recognition hits you both at the same moment. That flicker of shock in his eyes quickly turns to his usual look of disdain, because of course it does.

Then—a misstep.

Your ankle rolls, sending white-hot pain shooting up your leg. You stumble, sucking in a sharp breath. His grip on you loosens just slightly, and something that might be concern flashes across his face before his usual cold mask slips back into place.

"You okay?" His voice is gruff, like the words are being dragged out of him against his will.

"Just perfect," you snap back, because fuck his concern when your ankle feels like it's on fire and your pride hurts even worse.

He just stands there, staring at you with those dark eyes that see too much.

"What the hell were you thinking?" A pause, one eyebrow lifting. "You have a gun, don't you?"

You almost laugh. Because of course. If you'd shot at him, he'd be lecturing you about trigger discipline. Attack hand-to-hand, and suddenly you're an idiot for not using your weapon.

You seriously can't win with this man.

"Well, good thing I didn't use it on you then." The words come out lighter than you feel, dancing between playful and pissed. "And what are you doing here anyway? Shouldn't you be back there playing commander?"

"That's what deputies are for." The casual way he says it makes your teeth grind. "Besides, I dispatched a team to check the gunfire. Just my luck, running into you instead."

"Pleasure's all mine, chief." You load the title with all the sarcasm you can muster.

"And you?" His dark eyes study you like you're a particularly puzzling target he can't quite line up. "Any reason you're out here instead of following orders?"

"Didn't get any orders to follow." You cross your arms, ignoring how his presence makes your skin prickle. "And that ridge over there?" You jab a finger toward the overlook. "Perfect vantage point. I was trying to be strategic before you showed up."

He actually grimaces at that, like your logic physically pains him. But before he can open his mouth to deliver what's surely another lecture, you add:

"Just my luck, running into you instead."

The words—his own words turned back on him—hit their mark. His eyebrow twitches just slightly, and satisfaction blooms warm in your chest.

Score one for you.

But before you can inwardly celebrate, he grimaces. He actually grimaces before he opens his stupid mouth again.

"That?" His voice drips with condescension. "You think that's prime real estate for observation?" The asshole holds back a laughter. "Alright." He says, and you ponder the merits of hitting him with a rock.

But then he begins walking, and you trail after him, partly because s̶c̶r̶e̶w̶ ̶h̶i̶m̶ he's wrong and partly because... well, where else are you gonna go?

"Remind me again—which one of us specializes in persuasion and observation?" You can't keep the annoyance from your voice. His arrogance is starting to give you a headache.

"And which one of us is known for sniping?" He tilts his head just enough for you to catch the silver flash of his eyebrow piercing. "You think I don't know a thing or two about picking vantage points?"

"Just because you can shoot from far away doesn't mean you know the best places to shoot from." The words come out sharper than intended. "What works for a sniper might not work for surveillance. They're different skill sets."

"How so?" He doesn't even bother looking back now. "A lookout's a lookout, smartass."

Your hands find your hips. "You know what? Ask me that again when you sit in on our cross-training. Might learn something useful."

"Learn from an ensign?" His tilt is mocking. "No—learn from you?" He lets out a low chuckle that makes your teeth grind. "Pretty sure it works the other way around."

"Forgot about Flower?" You can't help the snark in your voice. "She's a chief too, and I'm sure she'd love to put you in your place."

The exhale he lets out is so exaggerated it has to be for dramatic effect. "You're insufferable."

"Feeling's mutual, chief."

You trail behind Jeon through the darkness, trying to ignore how his mere presence makes the night air feel electric against your skin. The silence wraps around you both, broken only by your footsteps until—

A rustle in the underbrush.

Before you can react, his hand clamps around your wrist. No warning, no words—just the firm press of tattooed fingers against your pulse point as he yanks you behind a massive rock. You crash against him, bodies colliding in a mess of limbs and s̶h̶i̶t̶ startled breath.

You open your mouth to tell him exactly what you think about being manhandled, but his finger presses against his lips. Shut up. His eyes scan the darkness beyond your hiding spot, focused and lethal.

And suddenly you're way too aware of him.

The moonlight paints him in silver and shadow, highlighting things you've never noticed before. Like how his eyebrow piercing catches the light—two tiny beads of silver that draw attention to the way his brow furrows in concentration. Or how that lip ring glints when his mouth sets in that stern line you know too well.

There's a scar on his left cheek—barely there, really. Just a whisper of a mark that makes you wonder what story it tells. Your eyes drift lower, catching on the small mole decorating the left side of his neck. It's such a delicate detail on someone who radiates danger, like finding a flower growing through concrete.

But it's his eyes that f̶u̶c̶k̶ y̶o̶u̶ u̶p̶ catch you off guard. Dark and deep, framed by stupidly long lashes that flutter when he blinks. They're beautiful in a way that makes your chest tight—and isn't that just f̶u̶c̶k̶i̶n̶g̶ fantastic? You didn't need to know that about him.

This close, you can see the tiny lines at the corners of those eyes. They speak of sleepless nights and heavy choices, of burdens carried too long alone. Watching him like this—he feels different now, less like a storm trying to drown you and more like standing in summer rain.

The realization hits like a punch to the gut: you're seeing Jeon. Not the cold-as-ice division chief or the intimidating Council member. Just... him. Human.

Complex.

His fingers are still wrapped around your wrist like an iron band. If anything, his grip's gotten tighter, and you're caught between wanting to yank free and being weirdly aware of how warm his hand is against your skin in the cool night air. It's hard to tell if you're feeling trapped or protected.

The footsteps draw closer—deliberate, confident. Not someone trying to hide.

You watch a muscle tick in Jeon's jaw, the kind of tiny detail you wouldn't normally notice if you weren't pressed so close to him. It's fascinating, in an annoying way, how he can look so calm while radiating such intense energy.

His eyes flick to yours for just a second, but it feels loaded with... something. Like you're suddenly partners in this mess, whether you like it or not. It's more communication than you've had in all your previous conversations combined.

The rustling gets louder. You hold your breath. Jeon's gone statue-still beside you, but you can feel the coiled tension in him. His dark eyes snap to a spot in the trees, then back to you with unnerving intensity.

"Shoot there."

You stare at him like he's lost his mind. "What?"

"There." His voice is barely a whisper, rough with urgency. He jerks his chin toward whatever he's seeing that you're apparently missing.

"You want me to shoot a tree branch?" The skepticism in your whisper could cut glass. "Seriously?"

"Just do what you're told." The words rumble out of him like distant thunder, crackling with impatience.

You give Jeon a look, but arguing isn't an option right now.

The gun feels heavy as you line up the shot. Your finger finds the trigger, and for a split second, everything goes quiet. The bang echoes through the trees, making your ears ring. You watch as the bullet hits exactly where Jeon wanted—that innocent-looking branch that apparently wasn't so innocent after all.

A net explodes from the darkness like some kind of ninja trap, shooting toward the approaching figure. But whoever it is moves like water—fluid, impossible, beautiful in a terrifying way. The net hits empty ground with a sad little flutter while your brain tries to process what just happened.

Beside you, Jeon goes still. If you weren't pressed so close, you might have missed that tiny hitch in his breath—the only sign that this wasn't part of his plan. His eyes narrow just slightly, that crack in his perfect mask making your stomach do weird flips.

He pushes you back against the rock, putting himself between you and whatever's coming. The stone digs into your spine, cold and rough through your clothes.

Then everything happens at once.

A shadow vaults over your hiding spot, moving with deadly grace. Gunshots crack through the night, and suddenly Jeon's shoving you down, his body covering yours. The world spins into a blur of motion and sound, your pulse drumming so loud you can barely think.

When reality settles back into focus, you watch the figure reach for their mask. Your fingers tighten on your gun, waiting to see what kind of threat managed to dodge one of Jeon's traps.

The mask comes off.

Oh for fuck's sake.

V's grinning like the cat that got the cream. "Paintball night!" he announces with way too much glee for someone who just scared the shit out of you.

Relief and irritation war in your chest. Of course it's V. Who else would turn a simple training exercise into their personal dramatic performance?

You watch Jeon's shoulders drop, but the annoyance is written all over his face. His jaw's so tight you can practically hear all the curses he's not saying.

Always the professional, even when he's irritated.

V's eyes dances with delight as he watches Jeon simmer. "Don't look at me like that, Kookie," he coos, lips curling into that signature smirk that makes you want to take a step back.

Cookie?

You blink, trying to process that nickname. Looking at Jeon—all dark clothes, silver piercings, and intimidating tattoos—the last thing that comes to mind is anything remotely cute or sweet. The mental image of him buying cookies from some terrified boy scouts makes you bite back a laugh.

Now that's a story you'd pay to hear.

Jeon's eyebrow shoots up in that way that somehow manages to say f̶u̶c̶k̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶ more effectively than actual words. His tongue pushes against the inside of his cheek, jaw working like he's physically holding back whatever he wants to say. He's irritated.

"I'll give you some advantage," V sighs dramatically, thorny vines wrapping around your lungs even from this distance. "No fun beating you when you're unarmed." The words drip with amusement, like this whole thing is his favorite game. "See ya."

With one last unsettling grin, he melts into the darkness. Because of course he does. Dramatic asshole.

You're still sprawled on the ground, processing what just happened. Leave it to V to turn a regular night into some twisted paintball training session. The man's idea of "improving stealth skills" is giving everyone heart attacks.

Beside you, Jeon's muscles finally uncoil from their battle-ready stance. He looms over you, and you can't tell if the expression on his face is more annoyed or relieved.

"You gonna get up or what?" The words come out gruff, but there's something else there. Something that might be concern if you squint.

Then his hand appears in front of your face. You stare at it for a second, surprised. It's weirdly bare compared to his tattooed arms, and you hesitate before taking it. His grip is firm but careful as he helps you up.

The whole night feels surreal —one weird training session bleeding into another. You glance at Jeon as he stretches, working out the tension in his shoulders.

The mystery of "Cookie" tugs at your curiosity, but one look at his face tells you now's not the time to ask.

Some mysteries are probably better left unsolved.

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Help and Care

✧.* Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem! Reader

✧.* wc 5,786 (teheeheee)

✧.* summary: he definitely didn't need help, he doesn't need someone to care for him. no one has ever helped him before, and no one ever cared so why would they start now. he doesn't care, he definitely doesn't need help. so why does he keep ending up in the infirmary with the beautiful nurse? and why does he keep coming back to you?

✧.* contents: fluff, a bit of angst, and a sprinkle of suggestive dialogue

here's the whole story! it took me a while but I hope you all enjoy it, sorry I'm a perfectionist. I had a lot of fun writing this but let me know what you all think. i might write a pt 2 to this idk. Also pls excuse the medical and military inaccuracies

enjoy

Help. He hates help. He can’t stand it. When others look at him, when he looks at himself, he doesn’t see himself as someone dependent on others. Why else would he enlist, he didn’t need help, he learned that the hard way. No one ever helped him and he adjusted, so why would he need help now? People are dependent on him; they rely on him. When someone is injured, scared, or dead it’s up to him to fix the situation, to solve the problems of others, to carry the fallen.

When Price told him to go to the nurse he was upset, actually, he was pissed. He was not a child who scraped his knee playing football at school. He was a soldier; he was more than a mere man. He knew how to endure, he knew how to carry his weight, and he knew that he didn’t need to see the nurse. He knew what was wrong with him, he just bruised his ribs. He didn’t need some old woman with a bad attitude to tell him what he already knew.

He endured and he resisted the pain for exactly two weeks, but the pain was only getting worse. He was confused and didn’t know what to do, he hoped that no one had noticed and he didn’t want people to start. He didn’t want questions or concerns, he wanted relief and nothing more.

He thought no one would notice and he was so wrong.

Training.

Simon hated training the new recruits, they were cocky and they didn’t know their place. They thought after joining and passing the initial physical exams, they were done.

They were most definitely not done. They needed to adjust, physically and mentally, to fit in. Many people think the initial physical and mental exams are where new recruits break, no they break here, during training…with him. He hated it but knew why Price asked him to do it.

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Price usually did rounds during training, he watched the recruits and the techniques of the other task forces. The smell of sweat, dirt, and blood filled his system and that smell drew his attention to Ghost. Today he felt the need to check on Ghost and see how he was doing. Ghost was a good teacher even though he didn’t realize this, Price did though.

Ghost was mean, harsh, and disciplined, and the people he taught tended not to last long, however, the ones who did turn out to be great because the one thing that Ghost teaches best is endurance.

When Price was watching him train, he started to get upset and confused. This was most definitely different from the big and bad Ghost he was used to. He thought at first that "maybe Ghost was pulling his punches?" When he paired Ghost up to train some of the rookies, he thought maybe Simon was finally going soft.

Usually after training, the rookies would be sore, and in pain, sometimes they might even need to be excused to nurse. However, these past few weeks the rookies have been surprisingly...fine. Maybe even better than fine and it's been making them cocky, it's boosted some of their egos.

It would probably boost his ego too, Price chuckled. If he were to beat the big, brutal, scary Ghost while still a rookie. However, they are starting to get obnoxious because they are taunting and boasting, which is certainly something that Price could not have. It was starting to piss him off. Price was going to tell Ghost that if he didn’t put these pricks in line, there were going to be consequences.

That was the plan, but then he took a closer look and that’s when he saw it.

He saw the way that Ghost taking more hits than normal, he was slow to react and he was even slower to respond. His stance was off as well, usually his form made him feel like a giant among men but now he looked like he was shrinking himself, like it was his first day of training. Ghost wasn’t pulling his punches, he wasn't holding back, he was weak.

Now he was pissed.

Price knew.

Price knew exactly why Ghost wasn’t as strong as he usually is, why his punches aren’t as powerful as they normally are. Ghost was a disobedient bastard and Price was pissed.

“STOP! That’s enough training for today, soldiers.”

“Ghost, come now!”

“Yes, Captain” Ghost replied in his thick Manchester accent.

“The hell is wrong with you Lieutenant!”

“Nothin' Capt’n, I'm just-”

“You’re just hurt, did you go to the nurse?” Price knew the answer.

“I didn’t feel the need to go to the medical facility Capt’n”

“You didn’t feel the need to go?” Price asked Simon and looked at him like he was crazy. Since when did his soldiers feel the need for an opinion?

“If you don’t get your ass to the medical facility right now, you’re going to be training these pricks for three months straight. You understand?”

“Yessir!”

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Unbelievable!

He doesn’t need to be here. As he walks to the nurse’s offices, he feels everyone's eyes on him. He’s rarely ever here and because of that it draws the eye, lots of them. He thanked his balaclava every day because without it, based on the face he was making, some might think he was actually nervous.

He doesn’t want some old hag telling him what to do and degrading him for not coming sooner. Some old nurse or doctor telling him everything he already knows just to insult him and show off their vast vocabulary just to try and make him feel small. that’s what they all do, that’s what his father did.

He approaches the front desk and the older woman tells him to go to office number 222. He makes his way over, navigating the hallways,  and he finds the office. The sign is decorated with small pink flowers and a white cat with a red bow. He resists the urge to roll his eyes.

Before he goes and knocks on the door, he dries his palms on his pants, desperately hoping to get over this.

Knock-knock.

Some time passed but then he heard a soft voice say…

“Come on in”

He opened the door and he was surprised that the soft voice matched a beautifully soft face. A face with beautifully unique features that worked together in harmony to make the beautiful woman that sat before him.

God damn.

Those were the only words on his mind.

It wasn’t an old woman who looked like she had a chip on her shoulder and carried a deep grudge, nor someone who looked like they were going to insult him… no. definitely not.

It was a young woman.

A beautiful young woman.

A beautiful young woman with the most inviting features. Absolutely gorgeous, he’s never seen a woman this beautiful ever on this base. He feels like she doesn’t belong here, her face is an exact contrast to the environment he surrounds himself every day. He has a million questions he wants to ask her, and he feels the strong urge to get closer to her. He’s such a creep. He doesn’t even know her name.

He feels his mouth goes dry and his hands sweat. Gross. He hasn’t felt this way since Secondary School, he feels like a dork and he doesn’t know what is wrong with him.

“Good afternoon, how can I help you!” Her voice was cheery and if he was a little bit more nervous, he wouldn’t notice the shock on her face and the tremble in her voice. He was used to that reaction; it was probably due to his appearance. her voice matched her face and he felt his heart beat faster, he finally was going to die.

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He was just staring at you, he was just looking. You’ve heard rumors of him, of his personality. The big bad Ghost, the professional killer who lacks mercy for anyone. He was just staring at you and it was freaking you out. What’s wrong with him, why is he here in the nurse's office? Did he hurt someone? Or worse…

He’s still staring.

“… excuse me, is everything alright?”

“Erm…yeah, sorry” he responded and if your mind weren’t running a mile a minute you would have heard the way he sounded nervous.

He clears his throat and then replies “Captain Price has recommended I take a visit down here.” God his voice was so deep. He was so smooth, he had a thick accent that wasn’t like any of the others you heard on base. His voice was not at all soft but the way he spoke made something bubble inside you. 

Wait. ‘take a visit down here’

Oh. He needed help. 

“Oh… okay sir, what seems to be the problem?” You try your best to put on your customer service voice and hide the fact that you're wondering what this man might need help with. 

“Erm… last deployment I bruised my ribs real bad, don't know how…”

You try to listen, you have to pretend to do so. You're writing as he describes his symptoms. He has stomach pain, difficulty breathing, tenderness in his abdomen, and bruising. He describes his symptoms and you feel so bad for him and at the same time, you feel disgusted in yourself. 

Disgusted because instead of being focused on how he describes his pain, you focused on his attractive ass voice. You can't help it, you're just a girl. 

No, You need to remain a professional.

“Okay Lieutenant Riley, if it's all right with you, I’d like to examine your abdomen.”

“Yeah… that's fine” he sounds hesitant you feel bad… you feel like you need to reassure him.

“Don't worry lieutenant, I'm sure everything is going to be just fine.” you try to reassure him and when you do, you unconsciously give him a soft smile.

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Well, you have to ask him to take off his shirt. That was something that didn't occur to you. He doesn't have to comply, you could do the whole checkup with his shirt on. You hope he doesn't so you save yourself from embarrassment. 

“Sir, if you do not mind, may I ask you to remove your um… t-shirt?” you ask, trying your hardest to remain professional. It's completely reasonable for a medical professional to ask a patient to remove their shirt when they had an abdomen injury.

“You don't necessarily have to I'm sure I can find a way to…”

“I don't mind” Lieutenant Riley cuts you off as he agrees.

He sits on the examination table and removes his shirt.

You think you just died. You are short of breath and you think you died because there's an angel right in front of you. If you were anywhere else you would admire his powerfully built body, but you were more concerned with the bruising on his stomach.

You feel and you touch his body, extremely concerned about his well-being. His stomach was black and blue, his stomach was sore, and he could barely bend over. 

You were worried but also shocked because this man worked and trained in such a condition for about a week. You knew of Simon Riley and you knew of his reputation and this just supported the fact that he's an absolute abled-bodied unit… it was almost scary.

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“I believe you have a few broken ribs…sir.” You say almost scared of his reaction. He needed x-rays, actually he needed time off. 

“I'll recommend you an off-base X-ray Tech to take pictures of your abdomen, I also recommended to your captain that you take time off to heal. After we get your x-rays, I recommend you visit me every two weeks so we can look over your progress ” You tell him, distracted as you look over all your notes.

“Oh ok, every two weeks, and how long will it take to heal…” Luitenent Riley asked, he sounded nervous and you started to feel bad for talking to him so nonchalantly about his condition.

“Um should take about two months to heal. Ribs tend to heal rather quickly, however, since they weren't treated earlier it might take a while longer. Don't worry I’m sure you'll feel better rather quickly.” You try to give him a little bit of comfort. You give Luitenent Riley instructions, stating how to take care of himself and treat his injuries. 

He collects his stuff and is getting ready to leave before he turns around looks you up and meets your eye. 

“Thank you so much luv, ‘preciate it.” He tells you, in a soft accented voice.

“It's not a problem Luitenent.” You tell him and you feel your heart pick up its pace.

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Week 2 

He was supposed to visit today, you were expecting him today. You had all of his notes laid out and you were just waiting. 

Waiting.

Waiting. 

Other patients came and went but you were still looking forward to one specific client. The first time he visited you had no time to admire his large and confident stance when he walked into the room. He walked into the room with utter confidence as if he knew it would have an effect on you.

AND GAHHH LEEE

When he removed his shirt, you don't know how you controlled yourself. You knew he was a big man with a hefty build but you were not expecting what you saw. Your eyes were blessed with a solid, broad-shouldered, athletic man.

The literal definition of manly, if he wasn't in the military you were sure he would be off somewhere chopping wood or something. If you weren't at work you're sure you would be lying in bed kicking your feet.

When he spoke to you he had such a deep and low baritone voice that was heavily accented. You never had a thing for accents but he was something else completely. Low and intimidating, his language was professional but you could tell that he was trying not to curse and use slang. It's embarrassing to think about the things you'd do to hear him, swear or even say your name. In your head you know you’d sound like a rabid dog if he’d said it in that attractive ass voice-

Then you hear your name and think you might die. Actually, it was your last name and your medical title. But still—

It’s him.

He’s here. 

Remain professional! you scream and shout at yourself.

You greet him and try to make small talk, asking him how he’s doing, how he’s feeling, and what he’s been doing with his time off. It's hard, he's such a beefy and attractive man. You can't even see his face but based on just the way he walks, you know he's fine. 

Admittedly, working on this base that’s far away from your home made you forget how to act around an attractive man…

“Been reading too, I'm trying to distract myself. If ya have any recommendations just let me know.” he interrupts your thoughts and you relate to him. It gets boring between deployment he tells.

“What do you usually do between deployments?” you ask, sincerely.

“Train, train myself then train with others.” He replies.

You don’t ask anything else, you know that he must miss training every day. The way he says it makes you feel bad. You know many of the soldiers find solitude when they work on themselves and train. It calms them and helps them recover, it's almost a form of therapy. Simon can't do that, not with his injury. You feel a pang in your chest. 

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You go over his notes and x-rays. You give him a checkup and note that he’s healing rather quickly, based on the other scars you know that this isn’t his worst injury. 

You catch his eyes when you are going over everything with him and explaining your notes to him. He’s looking at you with his golden green eyes, staring you up and down. You feel sort of embarrassed because you don't feel cute at this moment. You didn’t put makeup on in the morning, just gloss on your plumped lip and curled your eyelashes. Your wash day is coming up too so you wrapped your hair in a colorful scar today.

The way he looked at you was the way men would look when you would walk into a club. When you had a full face and your hair was freshly done. When you had a tight and short dress that would accentuate your beautiful curves. When you knew that you looked stunning that's the way he was looking at you, right now.

His visit was finished and you put the date for the next visit in your calendar. Before he leaves he thanks you.

“I don't like doctors but I appreciate all you've done for me, miss.”

“Thank you Luitenenent, if you ever need a book recommendation you can always come see me.”

“Thank you.” He tells you and even though you can't see his face, you feel a smile radiate off him.

You feel like he’s such a kind man.

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Week 4

Today, on his next visit, he’s not as kind.

You know why. You can tell that he's antsy, that he wants to get back to work. He’s rushing the process and wants to do everything you told him not to do. He wants to disregard all the instructions you gave him. You’re used to that, soldiers want to get back to their daily routine and they’re itching to do something strenuous during the healing process.

You would be fine with that if it were not for his shortness with you. He was annoyed and that was completely acceptable but there was no need to be curt and downright rude to you.

His answers were short. After each question, while trying to make small talk he replied with a ‘Mmhmm’. He didn't make eye contact with you and when you would suggest activities for him to try and distract him, he would roll his eyes and brush it off. 

He didn't want to chat and you feel like this is not the same man, who came to visit last time.

Today’s visit was short, there was clearly no need for small talk on his end and no time for the flirting you wanted to do. 

You did yourself up today too and now that you think back at it, it feels like a waste of time. You enjoyed the visit you had with him last time you were looking forward to today's visit. However, that feeling quickly dissipated, when Luitenenent Riley came in with a bad attitude and short tone. You had no time for this today, you think you even returned that same energy. So the visit was short and he left with a slammed door following behind him.

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Lunchtime came around and you were most definitely looking forward to it. After a long day, that wasn't even over, all you wanted to do was eat. You grab your book and sit in your designated corner to eat in the loud cafeteria.

You feel relaxed when you start eating and open up your book. The loud cafeteria with the chatter of men and women surrounds you. It's kind of calming when you think about it. The laughs, small talk, and clattering cutlery fade in the background around you. This is just what you need after such a long and tiresome day. 

You try to focus on your book but then you are interrupted by someone clearing their throat.

“Is this seat taken?” You glance up from your book, you find him standing there, his presence commanding attention even in the busy room. Lieutenant Riley is looking down at you with a food tray in his hands. He refers to the seat across from you and you shake your head no. You try to avoid eye contact when he sits down, still feeling annoyed from earlier. 

He lifts his balaclava over his mouth and you both eat in silence. There’s a growing tension around you both. 

You eat your food and busy yourself with your book, however you can feel him looking at you. He ate in silence, his eyes occasionally meeting yours before darting away.

It was irritating.

Earlier he was being rude and barely talking to you and now he was acting timid, the audacity. You started to pick up the pace and eat your lunch faster.

Then he interrupted his silence with his deep sultry voice.

“I wanted to apologize for my behavior earlier. I was disrespectful to you when you were only trying to help. I'm sorry. I've honestly been sick and tired of sitting around and doing nothing that I took out my anger on you and for that, I apologize.” It sounded like he practiced this. It makes you smile thinking about the Ghost practicing an apology in the mirror. You can just imagine him practicing and it warms your heart that he put this much energy into an apology.

“Thank you for your apology.” You reply in a soft voice.

There was silence for a while but it was interrupted by your voice.

“Um…I know it's hard, not being able to do the things you used to be able to do. I'm sure soon you will be able to get back to your routine and do everything that you want to do… and more. If You need to talk to someone, you can always come and see me. ” You tell him, a bit timidly. All you want to bring comfort to him and reassure him.

“Thank you,” he replies.

“No problem Luitenent” you respond.

“Call me, Simon.”

That was the end of the conversation. There was a soft smile on your face, and you both sat in a comfortable silence, taking quick glances at each other.

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Week 6

This next visit was much more casual than the previous two. Throughout the whole week before this upcoming visit, he’s been stopping by your office. 

In the beginning, he would just stop and say hello and indulge you with some small talk. Nothing more than checking in on you and asking how your day was. However lately, he’s been getting comfortable here. He’s claimed the large decorative leather chair in the corner of your office, closest to your desk. 

He would just sit there and talk to you about anything and everything. Conversations went from favorite foods to his most recent reads to how long you’ve been an RN. 

The other nurses in the building have gotten used to his presence in your office. When they come to visit or drop something off, his presence doesn’t throw them off anymore.  They’re used to the large man sitting comfortably in your office. 

Today was no different, he stopped by in the morning and you both got to chatting. An hour went by when it felt like mere minutes. Time flew by so fast that you almost forgot about his checkup.

“Oh!” You exclaim. “I'm such an idiot, I almost forgot why you were here Simon.” you shoot up from your desk and walk over to the examination table, slapping it twice with a big grin on your face

“Alright Simon, let’s get this over with!” You sell him with a large smile on your face. 

Simon slaps his knees and pushes himself off of the deep and comfortable chair. He makes his way across your office looking at all of the flowers around your office and the Sanrio Characters you have scattered around. 

When he gets to the examination table, just as you're about to move out of the way, he grabs your waist and moves you to the side. He lets his hands linger and he makes eye contact with you as he sits on the chair. 

You're certain he’s smiling under that stupid balaclava.

Cocky bastard. 

You clear your throat and attempt to focus on your work. The checkup only lasts a few minutes, he’s getting so much better. You would be so excited to tell him that he can start getting back to his normal routine, but you're distracted.

Distracted because he’s so touchy. First, he touches your waist, he must know that it has some sort of effect on you because then he touches your clothes. 

During the checkup when you need to do something basic and mindless, he grabs the corner of your coat and rubs yours between his fingers. When you speak to him he’s doing the same with your black scrubs.

“You can start getting back to your regular routine, like training and stuff. Don’t rush it or anything, just …baby steps'' you say, you move yourself to stand in between his legs.

“That right?” He asks but he’s not focused on what you say. He’s focused on your plump lips and you think it’s turning you on. His eyes slowly make their way back to your eyes. 

“Mmmhhh! But nothing too rough.” You reply looking back at him. You feel his hands make their way up your waist. 

“Not even a little rough?” He asks. You both start to lean closer and he takes one hand off of your waist and takes it toward his mask. 

Oh god! What is he doing? Is he going to show his face? Kiss you! Or maybe—

Knock Knock

The loud knock draws your attention away from Simon and you pull yourself away from between his legs.

You clear your throat and attempt to fix yourself even though you two have done nothing. 

“Come in!” You shout, voice cracking a bit. 

One of the more intimidating on-field military nurses enters your office. Unlike you, this nurse is trained for the field and it shows. She is tall with broad muscular shoulders, and she confidently walks into the room with a skeptical look on her face. 

She takes a look at both you and Simon before addressing you. Telling you that your presence is wanted somewhere else. 

“Oh okay… I’ll be there in five ma’am.” You reply and she makes her way out of your office with a raised eyebrow at Simon. 

“Okay, Simon! your next check is in two weeks and that’s your last one, congratulations.” You address Simon trying to make it seem like you don’t remember the moment you two had before you were interrupted. Simon stands and makes his way over to you, stops right in front of you, and towers over you. If he was anyone else you’d give them hell for popping your personal space bubble.

“Alright…Can I see you tomorrow?” he asks, looking down at you. 

“Are you injured?” You ask sarcastically. 

“Got a paper cut. That’s what I get for reading” He shows you his thumb and starts to chuckle. You laugh right along with him. You look up at him and nod, you smile while biting your lip. 

“See you tomorrow Si”

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Week 8

Two months.

He’s known you for two months and he still doesn’t know how to act around you. This past month he’s seen you almost every day constantly visiting you. He feels like every day he’s getting to know you better and better. You’re a genius, graduating high school and college early which explains why you're so young. You love this little Japanese cat thing that’s called Hello Kitty. Your favorite flowers are tulips, and that’s something that stuck out to him. 

Tulips stuck out so much that he used his last day of time off to go out off base and buy you some. Today is his last official visit with you but he most definitely doesn’t want to make it his last time seeing you. He wants to see you more, a lot more. He wants to see you outside of work, he wants to see you outside your work clothes. He wants to see you in jeans, a dress, in his bed—

He shakes his head, trying to stop himself from thinking like that. It’s disrespectful to you, he hasn’t known you for longer than a couple of months, and he can’t think about you that way. 

It’s hard not thinking like that. He thinks about his third visit with you, when you both were rudely interrupted. He thinks about what your waist feels like, what your face looks like. He thinks about it often, especially at night–

He cringes at himself, he feels like a teenage boy who’s never touched a woman. 

He tries to distract himself by looking at the tulips he bought for you. They’re closed and pink with long green stems. They’re beautiful just like you. He doesn’t understand, how someone can be so effortlessly beautiful. 

When you wear makeup or no makeup: beautiful. When you have your hair down and natural, sleek and bone straight, or up in braids, buns, or a scarf: beautiful. He can’t begin to comprehend it. 

Not only are you beautiful on the outside you have the personality of a goddess. You’re kind and compassionate but not afraid to snap back when someone gets out of line. That’s what makes him nervous, the doubts start flooding his mind. 

He’s still staring at the tulips when Soap enters his room. Unannounced. 

Soap comes into his quarters and scatters around the room. He looks in draws and under furniture, he's scattering stuff around as if he lives here. He is tossing his stuff around and looking in places he shouldn't be. Ghost hasn't even looked up, hasn't even acknowledged his presence. Ghost rolls his eyes so far back into his head when he hears Johnny whining to himself. 

“What’re ya lookin’ for Johnny?” He inquires in an irritated tone. 

“Lookin’ for my char–” He cuts himself off as finally looks up at Simon. He sees Simon slouched over his bed looking at the pot with pretty pink tulips and a wide, knowing, mischievous grin appears on his face. He looks like the Cheshire cat.

“Look at you Simon, those for that bird you've become so fond of…”

“Watch it Johnny” Ghost finally looks up, he's not pleased. Johnny continues like a mindless, careless, idiot.

“I've heard the rumors, some field nurse says she saw you two in her office…alone. Good on you Riley. Yer getting old now, ya deserve something like that. Herd shes a beauty too. ” He laughs obnoxiously at his own jokes. He slaps Ghost on the hard on his back and continues searching around his room

Ghost sits in silence for a while, thinking about Johnny’s words, he knows that he is joking, he’s not serious.

‘“Whatdya mean by I deserve something like that?” He finally inquires, the question was practically running around his mind. Johnny continued searching around the room as he answered his question.

“Well you know, ya have had a hard life. Yer always helping people, always trying to be the best, and ya never really had that soft life. I know ya don't think it but yer a good man and you deserve a good woman. We don't live forever so think ya should take the risk and do what you have to do… Are you sure you don't have my charger? He asked after giving some of the most meaningful advice that he'd ever heard.

“Get out,” he replied annoyed by his short attention span.

“Maybe Gaz has it,” he says and leaves the room as if nothing happened.

Those words resonate with Simon and he thinks about them for a long time. The time of the appointment was getting closer and closer. He couldn't stop thinking about it, about what he was going to say to you. He wanted to make it meaningful, he wanted to ask you out on a date. 

He wanted your friendship to continue and he wanted your relationship to grow and become more and more personal. He hasn't done this in a long time and he wanted it to mean something. 

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15 minutes.

He had 15 minutes to figure out what the hell he was going to do.

As he made his way down the familiar hallway toward your office, every step seemed to quicken the pace of his heartbeat. The clock was counting down, each second would go by, getting closer to the moment. In his hands, he held a bouquet of vibrant tulips. He knows that he is catching the eyes of the people around him but each person he passed seemed to fade into the background.

It felt like when he visited you the first time, his hands were sweating and he was nervous. He says ‘hello’ to the woman at the front desk. Even though her attitude has always been rude and uptight however he thanks her every day for sending him to office number 222. The number that completely changed his life.

Now, standing just a few steps away from your door, his mind blanked, and his carefully rehearsed words were completely forgotten. Doubt starting to flood his veins. His hands are sweating again, and his heart is beating a mile a minute. He doesn't know if he can do this, he feels like it is a mistake but his feet won't stop. 

They won't stop because even though his brain is telling him to stop, his heart won't let him.

It's been years since he's ever felt this nervous, he felt like he was going to have a heart attack. He finally arrives in front of your door and holds the flowers behind his back. He gets ready to knock and says a silent prayer to whoever or whatever higher being is listening.  

He knocks.

He waits a beat and then he hears your beautiful voice say “Come on in.”

Right as you say that without thinking Simon impulsively rips off his balaclava off his face and opens the door. He watches as you slowly look up and he swears he sees a natural glow around you. 

“Hi, how can I help you?”

He doesn't respond, instead, he slowly brings the tulips to his front and presents them to you with a soft smile. You look at the man and he watches as you raise an eyebrow, it's like he can see the clogs turning in your head. Then he sees the pieces being put together in your head and your face lights up.

“Simon?” You ask with a gorgeous smile.

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giggling and kicking my feet

[kairiscorner]

inspired by @binibinileonara's idea :D

ok but imagine miguel with an airheaded personality but super smart gf like

miguel o'hara with a genius, airheaded girlfriend (headcanons + blurbs !!)

he could never fathom at first how you could be so amazingly smart, the real problem fixer for nearly everything, finding all the little things that need correction in the plans he comes up with–but also be so oblivious at times.

he appreciates how sweet you are, but he doesn't like it when you give other people the same attention you give him, with you not really seeing anything wrong with being friendly with miguel and everyone else all the same.

when he gets mad, you're the only one who can bare him (hell you even tease him that he'll look way older if he frowns again when he's irritated).

he loves how you can go from proposing solutions to multiversal threats that can undo everything that has ever come into existence in the blink of an eye to petting kitties the next moment and giving them names after kinds of fish.

he can never have a serious, adult conversation with you, you're too busy staring at his hair and thinking how nice it'd be to touch it, how fluffy it'd be.

"are you even listening to me?" miguel asks you with a scowl on his face as you absentmindedly gaze up at his hair's curls. "are you listening to me?" he asks you again as he gently grabs your cheeks and brings your eyes to look into his. "you have such puffy hair, miggy." you say with a smile as he grumbles. "is it that hard for you to focus on what i'm saying?" "when you've got tufty locks like that, yes, it is." you said as you instinctively reached out for his hair, with him reluctantly letting go of you and sitting down for you to run your hands across his hair.

you take advantage of the fact he isn't as good with technology as you are and intercept his calls all the time just to play 'barbie girl' or 'california girls' to piss him off.

he does appreciate how cute you are when you're being an airhead sometimes, especially if you had a childish side to you that liked things just as cute, sweet, and adorable as you.

(((you were the one who made the miggy doll)))

he does wonder sometimes how you can monitor the multiverse while playing games on the side. he has told you repeatedly to focus, but you tell him all the time that you can focus on everything, it's easy for you, he's just being a perfectionist.

if you're easily distracted by sweets, like just drop all your work to have a bite of something sweet, miguel would bait you to quit teasing him with some candy. or if you're being difficult and don't wanna help on a mission because you're too tired or stubborn that day, he baits you with sweets.

"please, i won't ask for anything more after this, i just need you to coopera–" "no, it's naptime." you said as you were about to head to your private quarters. miguel blocks your way with his massive figure, with your grumbling under your breath as he stares you down. he pulls out a bag of your favorite candies, which catches your attention. with widened eyes, you look up at him and back at the candies. "will you please cooperate now?" he asked you as you snagged the bag from his hands and snacked on one of the candies. "okay, maybe i will. it's child's play anyway, let me help." you said with a cheeky grin as miguel groaned. he loved you dearly, but it was like you were always getting your way with him. though he didn't hate it, you really were cute like this.

i just know you get stuck in some of the spider people's webs sometimes, especially when you're goofing off with their webshooters. and who's gonna save you?

"miggyyyyyyyy..." you called for him as you hung upside down by the ceiling, wrapped in synthetic webbing as miguel entered the room, seemingly unfazed by your current state. he sighed as he sliced you free of the web restraints and caught you in his arms. "miggyyyyy!" you cooed his name as you snuggled up close against his chest. "why do you keep doing this?" he asks you as you wrapped your arms around his neck and smiling as you were now in his arms. "maybe i just wanted to be in your arms for a change..." "or you just love being an irresponsible little brat." he murmured as you giggled and looked up into his eyes.

"but you'll save me anyway, right? then i guess my plan worked." you said with a sly smile as miguel threatened to drop you. "no, miggyyyyyy..." you whimpered as you clung on to his neck as he let go of you. he sighs reluctantly as he scoops you up and carries you around, not minding the onlookers who'll stare you being carried like a baby by this man.

tags !! @miguelswifey04 @binibinileonara @fiannee @jrrantss @fictarian @yuridopted0 @ophanimgold @luvstarrstruck @arachnoia

[ravenlikesbooks]

Which instrument I think each side would play (and why)

because I'm a bored band kid who has plunged back into hyperfixation

Logan: Clarinet. It's sleek and professional. While flutes have the reputation for being perfectionists (and let's be clear, we are), clarinets are close behind. They're also one of the core instruments in a concert band, loathe as the other sections can be to admit it.

Roman: Trumpet. Loud and bold, constantly competing with the saxophones for dominance. If a trumpet plays even a little bit in a piece, you will hear it. There is absolutely no missing them.

Patton: I'm gonna place him over in the euphoniums. The low brass is the backbone of the band, and the goofballs too, but euphoniums tend to be a lot more.. tamed than trombones and tubas (at least in my band).

Virgil: Percussion. Everyone forgets about percussion, even the percussion. A lot of band class is spent with the percussion just chilling in the back half asleep while the other sections work out their issues, and that's just how they like it. Despite this, they are essential. Literally nobody would be able to keep tempo without them, even though they're supposed to be counting.

Janus: Flute. I say this as a flute player: pretentious ass bitch. Flutes like to pretend to be calm and collected, and are gracefully floating above the rest of the band. Despite this, they can be the most chaotic people… just not when the band director is watching. Pretentious perfectionist teachers pets (affectionate)

And finally… Remus: Alto saxophone. CONSTANTLY competing with the trumpets to be the biggest, loudest, most obnoxious section. Why did I put Remus on saxophone and Roman on trumpet as opposed to the other way around? Simple. Saxophones have reeds, and reed players hate changing their reeds. They will play on the most damaged reeds imaginable. A saxophone in the current senior class at my school literally played on half a reed for an entire six months. It was almost completely black from mold. They are TERRIFYING!

disclaimer this is all just for fun please be nice (': also if you play one of these instruments and I insulted your section I'm very sorry but this is all in good faith and I literally called myself a pretentious ass bitch so...

(if you're finding this through the sanders sides tag, please reblog this version with the latest updates!)

[cryptids]

..

I just need to ramble for a minute, but I think it's all little bit of a shame that so many constructiprowl fics (which is already not many 😭💔) really only seem to use the dynamic from the early stages of their relationship where Prowl was still pushing the constructicons away and resented them. And on the one hand, I understand the appeal bc an antagonistic relationship is fun to explore, and I LOVE fics where they start off that way and then develop a closer relationship out of it.... but, I also come across a lot of fics where he hates them way more and for much longer than he ever did in canon, or where that's the only dynamic they'll ever have. There's a sentiment, I think, that it would be impossible for him to ever warm up to them and continuing to hate them is the only realistic option?

And that's alright if it's your preference, like far be it from me to get in the way of people's toxic yaoi hdbsbds, but they DID move past that in canon and it feels like a shame that's not really acknowledged as much? Mostly bc I wish there was more stuff that explored the dynamic they had later on once he decided he wanted to be in control of Devastator and was keeping them around willingly..... idk just that specific period of time in their relationship was so funny and endearing to me djsbhs, I need more of him being their boss and bringing them everywhere with him to everyone else's dismay lmao

They still had some issues at that point, Prowl was power tripping like crazy and injuring himself by pushing an unstable gestalt bond too much/too fast, with the nosebleeds and the Scrapper moments, so they still had a long way to go. But what I'm getting at is mostly just that by then he was long past hating them or trying to make them go away, he seemed to consider them an extremely valuable asset and was actually trying to keep them around and make things work. In the end he was only forcibly separated from them against his will too, and he never actually wanted to leave them.

((There is a lot about Prowl's combiner wars storyline that I don't love, but I'm putting that all aside for now 😪))

I think he was essentially neutral on the constructicons as individuals/on a personal level... he was mostly just treating them like all the subordinates he'd had before. THEIR devotion and adoration of him was definitely very different to anything he'd experienced before though (and extremely gay lmao), I always feel sad that canon didn't give him the time to notice or react to that.

Just going off on a little side tangent but actually (as a shipper lmao 🤧) I like to think he could have become fond of them over time. Actually I think Prowl and the constructicons have a lot more in common than was ever really explored?? Especially if they had been allowed to have distinct personalities and demonstrate their intelligence a bit more lmao. I don't mind them being himbos (affectionate) or the way they spoke or anything, but I feel like they were just really underutilised in IDW1... like we never saw any fun chemistry stuff from Mixmaster or any of Hook's medical skills for example. Speaking of Hook in particular, I think it's interesting he usually has a bad temper and a very perfectionist, prickly and stubborn personality that makes him very Prowl-like in a way that would have been fun to play around with...

*** Coming back to add a point here about whether he blames them for the mind control and non-consentual modifications that were done to him, and honestly I don't think he does? I think he blames Megatron for that (which makes some sense since they were only doing it on his orders), I think it is a very large part of why he doesn't want to be near them at first bc they remind him of it and bc they took part in it, but it's definitely not something he continues to hold against them. It's similar I think to how he feels about Soundwave's involvement which he also seems willing to forgive after a while. Meanwhile his anger at Megatron never goes away, and at the trial he listed forced combination as one of the crimes Megatron was directly responsible for (which I think is interesting bc Starscream forces the constructicons to combine with Scoop later on against their will too, but never really faces any consequences for that? Anyway sjdbdhs)

I think it probably means something to him to be able to take control of the constructicons after they were involved in a trauma he went through where he had no control over himself, and to be secure in the certainty that they won't turn against him again... plus I think it says a lot about their relationship that Prowl (who already has trust issues anyway) is eventually able to trust them so fully? He even trusts them to stay loyal to him on a mission where they're working against other decepticons, which is a huge gesture really.

Anywayyy..... I guess this whole ramble was just to say I wish there was more happy/endgame constructiprowl content bc it could be so good and I'm yearning for it jsjsjds 😭😭

I have also seen a few people say this ship is inherently one-sided and depicting it any other way is ooc, and I disagree!! I think it CAN be one-sided, but it doesn't NEED to be in order to be true to canon.

Just adding a couple of relevant panels here too bc I am thinking about them 🤧

[2ofpentacles]

An Extensive Character Analysis of Zelkov

You guys know that I'm a little unhinged about him, so have a lengthy examination of who he is and why he's like that.

Zelkov is an extremely unique, multilayered, and complex character. His supports are all excellent, ranging from funny to heartwarming to tragic. He had me from the moment he said, “It may appear as if I am sitting *mysteriously* by the fire, but I am actually cooking yams.” 

A few facts

His birthday is August 2nd. He’s 6’1”. His hobby is listed as “everything,” but he specifically likes reading, cooking, and sewing. His talents are “medicine and mystery.” His favorite foods are mostly carbs and potatoes. He hates being in the sun/heat and finds it exhausting. He carves a statue of Alear on the Somniel. The Ally Notebook describes his personality as “Meticulous and multitalented. Speaks in a *mysterious* way. Pursues activities passionately. Strong nurturing instinct.” I might add “extremely depressed, melodramatic, perfectionist workaholic.” So let’s break that down.

What’s his deal? The first thing you notice is that he emphasizes seemingly random words in his speech (also he never uses contractions). Why? For fun. As he says to Alear, “I may speak in a way that *suggests* a deeper meaning, but rarely is that actually the case. It is simply another way of “killing time.” Idle *amusement*, nothing more.” He also does it to appear more mysterious. The second thing you notice is his hobbies. Why does he have so many hobbies? To give him a reason to live. Again, as he says to Alear, “Once my work is done each day, I fill my evenings with these varied *pursuits*. As I *enjoy* them, I am always mindful to leave something unfinished for the next day. That ensures I always have a project. A reason to *continue* living.” He describes something as being “*fatally* boring.” With anyone else you would think it’s hyperbole, but with Zelkov you kind of wonder.

Additionally, he is a master at all his hobbies, as you see in many of his supports (such as Amber’s) or else he will work tirelessly until he does master it (as in Clanne’s). Of course he’s just as (if not more) serious about his job. As he tells Roy, “Our training begins now, Roy. It ends only when my body *collapses* from exhaustion.” He’s a perfectionist. He tells Camilla, “The thought of *failure* fills me with dread.” If he has to be healed frequently in battle, he’ll say, “That I should suffer so many *injuries* in battle is positively humiliating…”

The next thing you notice is his “strong nurturing instinct.” It’s particularly obvious when he’s interacting with children like Jean and Anna, and also Emblems that he thinks of as children, such as Tiki and Veronica. This often manifests as him giving them things (he also gives gifts to Ivy and Kagetsu). It’s most obvious in his support with Citrinne where he flips out about a bird he raised leaving the nest (he literally asks how he can keep living and is not over it by the end of the support chain), and then she asks him to write letters of advice to people struggling.

One of his characteristics that is less noticeable, but still very present if you look, is his lack of self worth. He calls himself a wretch in his support with Jean. He considers himself to be a bad influence on Alear. At Florra Mill Town he says, “Quite an *idyllic* scene, this. Someone like me is as wrong for this place as battle.” Most blatant is his bond conversation with Corrin. He says, “I have killed many people. So many, in fact, that I sometimes feel *violence* is all I am good for.” Corrin says, “If that were true, you would be a fundamentally bad person. I don’t think that’s the case.” He replies, “Your words are comforting, but I am afraid that is *precisely* the kind of person I am.” 

Now, as much as I’ve emphasized what a sweetheart he is, he can absolutely be ice cold. He’s not afraid to say exactly what he thinks (albeit very politely) in a cold, impersonal way as you can see in his support with Ivy. On the way back to Elusia, he says, “I have no issue with cutting down anyone in the Elusian army now. Not even the *familiar* faces.” In the DLC, he tells Fell Ivy, “I will end you now, and I will feel nothing.” (After she says that he can die for her again.)

There’s a reason why a lot of people start out scared of him. It doesn’t seem like he quite realizes this though. He doesn’t understand why Kagetsu thinks he dislikes him, and has to ask Yunaka about the impression he gives. Yunaka gives a good rundown. She says, “You’ve got the same killer instinct I do. It practically oozes from your pores. Like slime!” She describes his eyes as ice cold and calculating, and goes on to say, “Normal people don’t go around evaluating what folks’ lives are worth. That’s an assassin thing. You’re always probing for weaknesses too. Considering vectors of attack, right?” If he throws himself so entirely into his hobbies, you can imagine how intense he was about training to be an assassin. Which leads us to…

His history

The Ally Notebook tells us “From a wealthy family in a forest town of Elusia. Parents and younger brother were murdered by bandits.” In the Japanese version, it’s specified that his brother was his twin. We also learn from Jean’s support that Zelkov’s mother was a physician. It’s because of her he knows so much about medicine. We don’t know how old he was when his family was murdered, but he says that his mother has been dead for more than a decade. He swore revenge (he calls it his first pursuit) and became an assassin. He tells Alear, “A decade ago, my efforts bore their last fruit. All my family’s killers were vanquished.” If we’re considering his datamined age (28) to be accurate, that would put him at 18 when he accomplished his revenge. He continues to tell Alear that, “Once I had achieved my end, I suddenly became aware that I had nothing left. No purpose. It was King Hyacinth who rescued me, quite by chance. I was selected to join the royal guard. Then I was promoted to retainer, and that purpose has sustained me in large part since.” We don't know exactly how long he's been Ivy's retainer (although I have theories), but we know he was there before Kagetsu. (As an aside, Zelkov was able to defeat Kagetsu, so we know that Zelkov's a better fighter than Diamant who could only fight Kagetsu to a draw. /jk… mostly). Anyway, it’s clear that he fears his life lacks a purpose, and he uses his hobbies to fill that void. Now let’s talk a minute about…

His purpose

It’s being Ivy’s retainer, currently. He says as much in that quote above, but it’s reiterated multiple times. Edelgard tells him, “I’m glad you work hard for Princess Ivy’s sake, but be sure to take care of yourself as well.” He replies. “My duty *preoccupies* me. That is all the care I require.” In his conversation with Marth, he says, “The loss of my family left me with an emptiness that not even *revenge* was able to fill… Fighting for Princess Ivy gives me *relief.*” To Ivy herself, he says, “Princess Ivy, I hope you know I *enjoy* my work. In fact, when I have a task before me, it is my way to *immerse* myself in it entirely. In those times, and *only* those times, my mind is truly at peace. So long as I am your retainer, so long as there is *work* to do… I have a purpose. That is how deeply I appreciate working for you.” (I think people tend to take their support chain at face value that they dislike each other, when it’s much more complex than that, but that’s a whole post on its own.)

Although being Ivy’s retainer is currently his purpose, the fear of not having one in the future is still something that occupies his mind, hence all the hobbies. His ending card says that he later founded an orphanage.

In Conclusion

So what we have here is a man who has no sense of self worth who believes his life is meaningless. Despite all the kind and caring things he does for everyone around him, he thinks he’s only fit for violence. He ponders with Sigurd whether his revenge was just, and comments on Yunaka’s lack of regrets in a way that implies to me that he does have regrets. He’s desperately searching for a purpose, but in the meantime uses his hobbies to fill all his free time so that he doesn’t have to think about all the terrible things that he’s experienced. And speaking of which, his “superlative” in the Ally Notebook is that he sleeps the least of any ally. This is because, as he tells Tiki, “Old *nightmares* preclude me from proper sleep. I only dare to nap.” 

But for real, most of his supports are pretty funny.

Anyway, let me know if there’s anything you think I missed or disagree about. Also if you want to hear about my extensive headcanons, including: What’s with the keys? and Why does he have crit quotes in French?

[mocharacha]

Iridescent Part 1: Sunflower Yellow

Summary: Y/N and Hyunjin are back at it again, they’re slinging color palettes and side-eyes as they hate each other like a perfectionist hates uneven brushstrokes. But when a project forces them into close quarters for a part-time job, spilled drinks and sharp words might not be the only thing flying. Underneath the sarcasm? Tension. And maybe not just the angry kind. Pairing: Hyunjin x Female Reader Genre: College AU, Academic Rivals to Lovers A/N: This is a story I revamped when I wrote for another fandom, but never posted it. Updates will be irregular cuz I'm finishing up my degree :'). Taglist is open Warnings: mild profanity, verbal conflict, mentions of emotional distress, joking fantasy violence, embarrassment, and light sexual innuendo (Minors DNI) Word count: 4,3k

Masterlist - Aesthetic

Well….Fuck!

You were running...running late, that is. Footsteps echoed through the empty hallways of JYP University.  Black converse squeaked on the floor as you turned to charge up a flight of stairs and put your sorry excuses for lungs into additional trauma.

You stopped on top of the stairway because you enjoyed the view of the old stairway (and definitely not because you felt your burning legs threaten to give out).  While trying to catch your breath, you reached for something to drink out of the side pocket of your canvas backpack.

The burning of your lungs matched the pricking sensation in your reddened eyes, who had not yet recovered from all the tears you spilled last night over that stupid guy.

Fortuna was really smiling down at you today. You realized when you saw that you'd forgotten your water bottle. With a loud groan, you zipped your backpack open to grab another bottle of the thickly yellow liquid.

Your dear roommate made you a smoothie before you woke up, and he had gone to morning practice. The beverage's color was pretty, a rich sunflower orange, but right now, it was too bright for your swollen and puffy eyes.

You took a sip, winced because the Banana-mango-turmeric smoothie had too much turmeric in it.

Once more, you wondered why you decided to rent an apartment far from the campus? Why couldn't you live in the dorms nearby?

Then again, your city apartment had access to a special storage room in the attic, and you needed that space. And your roommate can cook…and care for you if he even though he was a complete menace once you got to know him. 

Seriously, he was a year older than you…why was he such a maniac sometimes?… That crazy cat people....

Distracted by the earthy taste of the drink, you forgot the reason, why you were drinking this in the first place……right…you were late to class,

"CURSE you" you yelled at the liquid in the bottle for distracting you.

It didn't answer.

Rude.

So, you hastily screwed on the cap before you started moving again. One more hallway, a sharp turn left, and you collided with a wall…you didn't remember that someone had built.

The heck?? Why was there a wall in the middle of the hallway?

The impact made you stumble backward a little and slip, and you had just enough reflexes to tilt a little, so you fell sideways and didn't crush your backpack, which had your tablet in it. It still hurt, thankfully, it was your left hip you fell on.

Before you could comprehend what happened, you felt something wet and icy cold seeped into the fabric of your blouse. The liquid smelled familiar, coffee…and as you glanced down, you saw a prominent patch of the brown drink blooming on your chest.

Oh, no… you had to work this afternoon and wouldn't have time to get something to change because your apartment was too far from campus to do so.

"You gotta be kidding me…" a groan from across you snapped you back into action

The initial shock from your collision seeped into anger, clinging to your skin as the fabric of your pale pink shirt did. You saw him.

Hwangfucking Hyunjin in his freakish tall glory, dressed in tan brown slacks and a white shirt, looking like he was better than everyone else, and a condescending expression to match his outfit.

He looked devastatingly handsome, long, dark hair, like ink in motion wrapped in a bun, just a few strands of hair framing a face too perfect to be real. His light brown eyes, laced with daring golden flecks, held a quiet fire that made it impossible to look away. Annoying!

He was tall, muscular, actually had some brain capacity, and dressed very nicely.

He was also Satan personified.

"CAN YOU….FOR ONCE WATCH WHERE YOU'RE GOING?" he snapped at you from under his glasses, checking his messenger bag.

He sighed in relief as he saw that his own laptop wasn't broken but groaned at the empty cut of iced coffee he must have gotten from outside the campus.

"BACK AT YA," you snapped, struggling to get up to gather you on things and shoot deadly glares at the bane of your university life. You hated that guy ever since the first year of uni.

The iced coffee was soaking your shirt, and you couldn't risk that the light blazer you wore being ruined too, so you proceeded to shrug it off while muttering, "I thought those ugly glasses are there to help you see."

"You need to pay me back for that drink you made me spill." the boy replied.

Hwang bent down to retrieve the plastic cup. Grimacing at the lack of content, he tossed it into a bin close by, so painfully accurately, just with a flick of his wrist. It looked so effortless that you blinked at the bin for a few seconds in awe.

You admitted that he was good, but the fact that he seemed so good at this made you hate him even more. The freaking audacity.

Then your head whipped around to stare him in his stupid brown eyes

“The fuck I will do Hwang! You ran into me! How about you paying for dry cleaning?”

"For that shirt?" he sneered, "I know that you don't have a sense of fashion L/N, but even you must notice that it's clear to everyone that you are wearing a discolored shirt. Did you get dressed blindfolded in the dark or was it a dare?”

Unfortunately, his statement was true. Your stupid roommate had accidentally sneaked in a red sock alongside his clothes when you did laundry the other day and blamed one of the cats…. so all of your white clothes came out pink.  

That morning you indeed had just grabbed the shirt from your room in a rush. 

It wasn’t really usable as clothing but was a good rag to clean. 

Why did he have to be so painfully right in his observation….it infuriated you.

Stupid Roommate, this was all his fault. Maybe you should take revenge on him?….but then again he could cook…still.

Yeah, you would have to take revenge on him one day...maybe tonight (after dinner), but you didn't really know how to get away with crime just yet...and those things need planning. Besides you could not leave the cats orphaned….and  he'd tried to make it up to you by making the smoothie...

However, before you could retort, Hyunjin cursed again when he realized that your clothing wasn't the only one that a drink had been spilled on. On his tan pants, a long line of orange smoothie was across the mids of his thighs, to be exact.

Although, the smoothie wasn't as quick to seep into the fabric in as the coffee. It would, however, definitely leave a permanent stain.

You snorted in grim satisfaction, serves him right.

"The fuck you're cackling about?" Hyunjin snapped as he frantically tried to dab away the stains with tissue, no a handkerchief from his pocket. Because, of course, he'd have one of those...pretentious prick.

"Looks like peed yourself," you sniggered and grabbed the half-empty smoothie bottle from the ground.

And because until lunch, this was your only possibility get a drink. You capped the bottle and secured it in your bag while Hyunjin still tried to get himself clean.

Ofcourse, you noticed the glares he was sending you, but you frankly didn't care and wanted to get moving.

"Oi…Short Stuff!" you heard his voice yell out as soon as you made a few steps,pointing in the other direction, "Class is this way…."

He pointed the finger at the door to the lecture hall you didn't realize had been there because you and Hyunjin had collided right in front of it.

"I knew that!" you retorted, spinning on your heel and stomping your way back.

Hyunjin grunted in frustration as he saw that the stain on his pants was permanent, and he shot a glare at you, grumbling something about you ruining his appearance.

"Serves you right evil spawn," you spit out, put your hand on the lecture hall door "If you're so self-conscious about your appearance pretty boy, go ahead and go home to change…"

"Then I would miss the lecture you idiot…" he rolled his eyes and eyed you up and down. "and don't you talk about fashion sense…"

You glanced down yourself. Black converse, a loose-fitting, paint-splattered, ripped light washed blue jeans, a pinkish white blouse, tugged in, and a black blazer that was secured safely in your backpack. What the heck was he talking about?

"Look who is self-conscious about appearance now?" he sneered.

"Fuck you Hwang!"

"Get going or get lost Pipsqueak," he simply replied and put his hands over yours to push down the door handle and push the heavy door open.

"Hands off," you hissed, pulling your own hand away from under his. It felt like it was burning.

Hyunjin hissed a, "Shut up." since the lecture had already started

The two of you sneaked into the last row of the lecture hall. Luckily, your professor was one of those who kept on talking and didn't mind an interruption by late students.

The Art History professor was one of the more elderly professors and had seen and heard every excuse for tardiness that he simply stopped caring. As long as you settled in quietly and didn't interrupt class with made-up reasons, he didn't bother with reprimanding students and dealing with possible paperwork.

At this point, you doubt that anything would interrupt Choi-gyosunim from his monologues about European art history. Not even his own death.

You noticed that he glanced up at the two of you, though, and gave you a short nod and the hint of a smile on his lips, which reflected on your own. 

You grabbed your tablet and stylus from your bag, opting for handwritten notes because you had already downloaded Choi-gyosunim's slides.

Being his student assistants had its merits, after all. 

Hyunjin, next to you, groaned because he missed the first few slides, and you noticed his darting eyes on you as you scribbled something into your notes.

"What?" you hissed from the corner of your mouth.

"Do you have the slides?" he groaned, sounding like he didn't believe he was asking you for them.

"Awww….Hyunjin–ssi are you asking me for a favor?" you grinned, eyes fixated on the tiny-looking professor far in front of you. From this far up, he looked like a cloud with his fluffy white hair and beard.

"Nevermind …" he started to say but stopped when you flipped the cover of the tablet.

"Make it quick," you retorted and handed him the device, "You just missed slides 1-7."

"Thanks…" he grunted.

 You smirked, cocking an eyebrow amused. "What was that?"

"You got pain on your nails….." Hyunjin pointed out, and you glanced at your fingers…. indeed. Apparently, you hadn't cleaned up your hands enough after your late-night painting escapades.

Grumbling, you tried scraping the paint off your nails and swore you could hear Hyunjin mutter something.

You couldn't care less. Who did this guy think he was. You were nice to him a second ago, and he repaid your kindness by telling you that you looked gruesome?

You had more significant issues you noted as you glanced down and still saw the now drying patch of brown on your chest.

You needed a hero…and decided to text the biggest savior you knew.

The ninety-minute lecture went over slowly, but you didn’t mind listening to Choi-gyosunim’s joyful little rants. As his student assistant you knew this lecture’s outline because, frankly, you helped the elderly sensei to make those presentation slides and helped him with his computer.

You leaned forward on the desk, chin propped up on your palm, and fiddled with the stylus entranced by his words of brush stroke techniques.

The lecture was slowly coming to an end because Choi-gyosunim was revising some of his points. The lecture hall relaxed, and some started to stretch out their limbs.

The soft tapping of fingertips across the laptop keyboard next to you stopped, and you peered over your shoulder to glance at Hwang, quickly rubbing the corner of his eyes, suppressing a yawn. For a second you could have sworn that he had been looking at you…and were unsure whether you had something on your face?

“What are you looking at?” he snapped at you while you shrugged. “Better write that down…I think it’ll be on the exam.”

You turned around and noticed with smug satisfaction that he hastily started tapping something into his computer, but Choi-gyosunim already shut down the presenter, and the last slide was gone.

There was another thing about Choi-gyosunim’s lectures…if you didn’t show up to class…you didn’t have a chance to get the lesson’s content because even though he used slides, he didn’t put them online for access. Once he was done with a presentation…you were done taking notes. Simple.

“Bad Luck” you smirked and closed your tablet so Hyunjin couldn’t peek at your own notes.

“Tsk,” he huffed, “You’re just lucky that you’re a little teacher’s pet…”

“Jealous? If you were nicer I’d offer you my notes.” You rolled your eyes at him. “But you were a jerk earlier, and now I won’t.”

“I’ll still get the better grade” Hyunjin grabbed his things and stood up as the other’s in the lecture hall did the same.

You remained seated because you had back-to-back classes in this lecture hall and wanted to wait before going down to personally apologize to Choi-gyosunim for your tardiness.

Hyunjin hesitated, as if he was waiting for you to retort. You did, but waited until a few of your peers were closer.

“Don’t worry, Hyunjin-ssi. Nobody will notice that large yellow pee stain on your trousers,” you said loud enough for them to hear but not loud enough to reach sensei’s ears.

Some of them glared at Hyunjin’s pants and sniggered behind.

Hyunjin snarled an insult at you and hurried out of class, trying to escape the snickering glances of your peers.

You waited until the hall was empty, then grabbed your bag and skipped down the stairs to talk to your teacher. He wasn’t angry, maybe a bit concerned about your whole attire. Yes, he commented on your reddened eyes and asked if everything was okay, but you quickly assured him that it was stupid boy trouble, and he chuckled in response.

The two of you checked your next meet up for the slides you had to prepare and some scans you had to make from a book in the library, then he off wished you a nice day and fun at work later. He knew about it because Choi-gyosunim was the one who recommended you for the job at the museum.

You settled down in the fourth row for your next lecture held by a relatively young professor keen on class participation. By the time this class was done, you were three things.

Hungry, thirsty, and tired. The smoothie didn’t help much for doing anything against your problems. You grabbed a coffee on your way to the cafeteria, where you’d meet Nari.

You met the soft girl at the start of your university life, and you had shared some basic art classes. But since she was going for Ad Design and you were more into Historical Arts, your paths split academically.

“Y/N !” she said as soon as she saw you standing in front of the vending machine.

“Nari-ah my lady and savior bless the heavens you’re here!” you gave her a small hug, and she then presented you a bag with several clothes.

“I brought you a blouse and the grey pullover you left at my place the other day,” Nari grinned, holding up a finger. “I don’t want you to get a cold.”

“It’s still pretty warm outside…it’s barely September.”

“Nights still get chilly and as I know you’ll end up staying at the museum for way too long” she grinned, then glanced at the Kimpap you were holding in your other hand.

“What’s this?”

“Lunch, Nari” you stated simply, and saw her rolling her eyes at you.

“You need to eat something proper,” she scolded.

“I also have a banana, an apple , and a chocolate bar,” you said proudly, to which she just sighed, “Join us for lunch….Ni-ki wouldn’t mind, really…”

“I don’t mind Ni-ki-ssi,” you stated. “He’s nice, but his friend is another thing…and speaking of the devil.”

Nari turned around to see that an engineering student, Ni-ki was approaching, chatting animatedly with Hyujin, your personal devil.

“Ew…” he commented when he saw you. Giving you a second of his time, he nodded politely at Nari and busied himself with his phone.

“Y/N-ssi” Ni-ki said after he greeted Nari with a small kiss on her temple. 

Yeah…they were totally just friends, my ass, you thought.

“Are you joining us?”

“Can’t sorry…” You smiled at the guy. “I gotta run…thanks for offering though…you’re so nice and have such manners.”

Not like some other guy. You glanced at Hyunjin, who didn’t look up from his phone, and commented with a smirk, “Nice blouse L/N.”

“Fuck you, Hwang,” you grunted. 

He had time to change into other pants, so you couldn’t come up with a better insult.

“Yeah, no thanks…” he shrugged, “Ni-ki…I’m heading inside…someone is smelling like sweat and moldy coffee…pitiful really.”

When he sneered at you, you flipped him off.

What a bastard. Joining them for lunch…yeah, right…no one would ever make you spend more time with Hyunjin than necessary. It was bad enough that the two of you shared classes…most of the time, you avoided the lanky linguine like the plague.

But enough thoughts wasted on the human embodiment of the Dead Sea. 

You had work later, which would be stressful and loud enough, so you’d better calm down before the big rush.

Your second job was at the Seoul Museum of Art. 

It didn’t pay much, but it allowed you to enter an intern position for the compulsory internship that would start soon, and you hoped they would give you bigger responsibilities.

Sometimes, you gave guided tours to school groups. However, your main job was to give afternoon art courses to grade-schoolers. Sometimes, the kids were just too unruly. On other days, they worked fine and were angels.

Since the colleague you usually worked with, a middle-aged woman, had a baby, the workload doubled in the last few weeks.

Thankfully, the group that visited today was supervised by their charming young teacher, who seemed to have experience calming down little tornadoes.

He wasn’t much older than you but made an effort to visit with his class as often as possible. It turned out that their primary school had decided to come by every week, formed an art club because they liked the program, and sent the young teacher to chaperone the club.

As the program was dubbed, Little Leo’s Art Class educated the kids about famous artists and helped them recreate their paintings and sculptures. You first told a story about the artist and then instructed them while they painted. Today’s work was Van Gogh’s sunflowers; the kids could use acrylic paint on their little canvases.

They brushed and dabbed their paintbrushes, turning white into bright colors.

Afterward, they helped to clean up, and the handsome grey-haired teacher assisted you in helping the kids clean and put away the brushes the right way. Before they thanked you and went back to school.

You cleaned up afterward, looked that the canvases were put away safely to dry. That the brushes, containers, and tables were properly cleaned and checked. Pushed open the heavy door to the supply closet and sorted the material into the correct spaces.

A quick glance around. 

No one had left something behind…good.

Checked your phone, no messages then again connection in here was terrible per usual.

Taking out your Ipad, you settled down to study a little bit in the quiet of the small studio. Another group was supposed to be here, but they’d cancelled because of a sudden flu outbreak in the school.

You were halfway through your revision when someone knocked at the door, and soon after, your supervisor entered the door with a smile 

“Ahhh..L/N-ssi…I thought I would catch you here…everything done?”

“Yes, Kim-seonsaengnim …everything is cleaned up…I only had one class today,  the last one canceled on me…so I’m studying if that is okay…” you said and put down the apple you were chewing.

“That’s too bad...I thought we could have caught you while you were so high spirited and in your element.” he said with a smile, “Anyway…. I wanted to introduce your new colleague to you. He’ll be working mainly as a guide and will intern here alongside you.”

A new colleague? Intern? So soon? As far as you knew they were just starting the job interviews today.

“Yes, I was surprised too…but he just came to the job interview and was perfect fit…” he smiled once more and glanced back.

“Don’t be shy boy….come in…introduce yourself…”

You stood up and tugged down the apron you were waiting you stood, then lifted your head to smile at the newcomer. But as you saw him, your smile died on your face.

The same happened to his face, with the difference that the newcomer wasn’t smiling in the first place.

“Oh…you know each other already?” Kim-seonsaengnim’s eyes shined as he saw the recognition in both of your faces.

“Yes…” Hwang Hyunjin said shortly.

He had changed again, wearing a dark brown blazer and matching slacks.

He closed his eyes for a second as if he had to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating you did the same…nope still there….

“Peachy!” Kim-seonsaengnim clapped his hands. “If you know each other you’ll get along just fine! Looking forward to a good and prosperous corporation you two.”

Well…. Fuck!

[daydreamcloudshiding]

#5 Astrology Observations

People with Lilith conjunct personal planet(s) really triggers jealously in others so easily. They could just be sitting somewhere doing nothing and just breathes and that sh*t really trigger people

Mercury in 8th house in Solar Return Chart means that there will be circumstances where you will have no choice but to be honest about your deepest feelings and thoughts. You will also be able to see through other people's lies and their thought patterns

Nessus doesn't always means an abuser or someone who will abuse you. It can show someone who, regardless of intentions, might put you in dangerous situations even without them meaning to. They also will be the one who might lead you to make wrong decisions or giving advice that will ruin your life

Aquarius Moon people are not robots without feelings. They are detached, but they often feel things intensely too, especially when it comes to social issues that they care about. They just don't have that warmth that their opposite, Leo Moon, have. Leo Moons that I know are so expressive and have this need to constantly express, make it known. But not Aquarius Moon. I suspect that oftentimes due to their detachment, they intelectualise their feelings so much

Sister signs can play each other's characters so well in movie roles. A Virgo can act like a Pisces so well, all their somewhat innocent or idealistic tendencies, and a Pisces can act like a Virgo so well, all with their perfectionistic and goody-two shoes demeanour

The easiest to find someone that you can get along with, almost with no effort, is someone who's Sun Signs conjunct your Moon Sign. The moon person feels deeply understood even without the Sun person trying to, and the Sun person represent all the things that the Moon person feels like always has (internally) but perhaps too shy to express outwardly

You will easily connect with the sign that the dominant sign that you have on your Solar Return Chart (for ex. you have a lot of Leo in your SR chart, you will easily connect with Leos)

You know what I find interesting with 8th house synastry? Once you experience this with someone, this create some sort of a pattern in your life that you must break. So for ex. you have abandonment issues with someone that you have 8th house synastry with. Even after you break up with them, this abandonment issues will show up again in your next relationship, even if there is no 8th house synastry with this new person. This 8th house synastry is giving you the chance to truly see your weaknesses/issues and heal them, or you will continue this pattern

Juno-Sun synastry, it's usually the Sun person who is so attracted to the Juno person. The Juno person unconsciously see that the Sun person has what they need in a partner, but the Sun person will see the Juno person as someone who represents the ideal partner (like they oh so perfect for me)

In my experience, Libras are type of people who would pick a bad company rather than being alone. Even if those friends or s/o hates them or abuse them, Libra would pick them, just so that they don't have to be alone. It's one of the reason why they have these people-pleaser tendencies. It's pathetic, really. Because the second you can't be with them all time, they will choose someone else and talk sh*t about you just to please others, while you may not be there for them all the time but you have more heart or loyalties. I'm sorry if this upsets some people, but this is my experience with them.

People with Lilith in 8th house in the natal chart are usually the ones that keep the secrets that's not even theirs to begin with. They have this aura about them that tells people that they are trustworthy, and will take these secrets to the grave. And they are, but I think it's unfair to them. Sometimes these secrets are dangerous and burdensome to them mentally. I wish that people will just keep their own secrets rather than telling others and ask these people to keep these secrets that they can't even keep themselves.

People with Mercury in Scorpio really out here thinking that they can read other people's mind while the truth is that is their own paranoia. I've heard about Scorpio placement being paranoid, but the mercury is really the worst. They will ended up accusing others of f*cked up things, and when they can't provide prove except (it's my intuition), their ego get bruised so bad.