#[ reblogs this one last time before switching back over to hawke ]

[keiskake]

thief (chapter ten - hawks)

takami keigo x quirkless f!reader (au chilhood friends // characters are aged up 21+)

warnings ~  swearing, petnames, mental spirals, anxiety, spoilers about hawks’ backstory from the anime

wordcount ~ 2.101k

summary ~ you and takami keigo grew up together in a shitty hut with terrible parents. he disappeared one day when you were 6, but he never left your mind. the heavens entwine your destinies together, but it’s not a smooth journey you soon figure out.

a/n ~ i loved writing this, but also hated it. so much angst but whatever i slapped a happy ending so that's all that matters. i'm really dedicated to finishing this series so that'll be my priority, i have other stuff planned too! thank you for reading, reblogs + likes are always appreciated.

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it all became a fond memory. the matching dress and suit, the chocolate covered strawberries, the warmth you had during the night.

when you woke up hawks wasn't next to you, he was gone. you frantically looked around the room for a note of some sorts that he might've left for you. and when you couldn't find a note, you grabbed your phone to check for any messages from him. nothing.

you didn't have time, quickly dressing yourself in a shirt and a pair of shorts that was left on the side of the bed. leaving the red dress behind was the least of your worries. you ran down to reception, phone in hand and a nervous sweat running across your forehead. there was a woman at front desk that informed you hawks had left early this morning, instructing her to send all his stuff over to the agency before 6:00p.

your eyes widen, your fist and jaw clenched. how could he just pick up and leave without saying a word? what the hell was he constantly running away from? you thought after everything that happened last night, not to mention being his girlfriend, he would flip a switch on. none of it made sense to you.

the next move was to talk to the bird brain directly. you called him several times, each one leading to his voicemail. you were furious, rage hanging high above your head as you texted him. minutes turned into hours, and you hadn't gotten a response from hawks. you wanted to think he was just busy with work, so you did your usual evening routine to keep your mind away from the situation. but you were more than impatient at this point.

it was almost midnight with no response or call back. even your own mother couldn't provide any answers or clues, but at the very least she gave you the tightest and most loving hug that she could. as much as you wanted the hug to rid you of all the hurt and confusion you were feeling. it didn't. you slept restlessly, tossing and turning, constantly checking your phone, and tearing up at the fact hawks had just left without a trace.

this happened every night for two or so weeks. his whereabouts was unknown, even by the public. they headlined that he had gone low-key due to the masses of fans, but you didn't believe that one bit. to be honest, you didn't know what to believe. you went to work and forced a smile on your face, when you came home you would just spiral out of control.

night time was an endless cycle of crying about the heartache that lingered in your chest. the glint of hope you had every evening would dwindle faster than you could imagine, despair suffocating you. maybe you just weren't loveable. and you would never be. kei, hawks, both of them abandoned you. thoughts clouded your sanity, 'what did i do so wrong?'

the images flooded your conscience, every night without fail. the memories of your father berating you, kei disappearing from the house, and hawks leaving you all alone in that room. it was more than you could take. and by the third week you slipped off the edge, your body unable to pick itself up to go to work.

numb.

that's what you felt. nothing, but everything all at the same time, overwhelming your ability to feel. you were barely able to muster up the energy to text your manager, let alone eat and shower. but you had to try. mina and jirou called your mom to let her know they'd be coming to visit, the two worried about you.

after the event you forgot to update them on anything that had happened, you didn't even tell them if you had gotten home safely. with the little power you had, you crawled out of your bed to wash your face, brush your teeth and fix your hair. even doing that took everything out of you, soon returning back to your bed. you sat waiting for the two, you hadn't talked to anyone for weeks. you were more worried about how to talk to them.

your mom left the door unlocked, aware that you probably wouldn't be able to pick yourself up out of bed and open the door for your friends. and you knew when they were arriving. you didn't need to see it when you could hear it. the running towards your door, the door slamming and the excruciating amount of heavy panting. they never failed to make an entrance.

"Y/N WHERE ARE YOU?!" mina's voice booming through the hallway.

"YOU'RE NOT GETTING AWAY THIS TIME." they shoved their way into your bedroom, panting and huffing.

the two stood in front you, witnessing what mina would call a crime. your eye bags were so heavy that it seemed to weigh down your entire body. it was clearly painted on your pale face that you had been struggling to take care of yourself, your cheeks a little sunken than before. you had just enough will power to force a smile and greet them.

their worried faces turned into sad ones, frowns forming from their lips. mina took a brush and took care of the thing you called your hair, jirou helped you do a little skin care hoping it would wake you up. after they addressed the elephant in the room that was your appearance, they brought you a glass of water and some cut up fruit that your mom had left behind that morning.

"take your time and tell us what's been going on y/n."

"we've been so worried. i thought you DIED!"mina took your hand, her thumb brushing across your pale skin and squeezing it tightly.

it took you some time to gather your thoughts. honestly, you didn't even know where to start, the good or the bad? you hadn't even started talking but tears were filling your eyes, muffled cries and weeps escaping your lips. too much. all of it was too much for you to swallow. it was easier to wallow away in denial and fake scenarios that you created in your head.

"hawks, he- he left me all alone. he was there at night and then- and then he was gone in the morning. and now he won't answer his calls or texts or anything and i don't know what to do.."

jirou and mina wrapped their arms around you as you nuzzled into them with your wet face. it reminded you of the embrace they gave you on the day of the hero event. you thought that day was your final goodbye to kei, but it seemed to come all the way back round. that day was a day you didn't want to forget, though in that very moment you wanted your memory to be wiped blank. was a memory worth remembering if it brought you so much grief and hurt?

"what a fucking ASSHOLE. y/n if you give me the chance i'll knock that bird brain OUT COLD, and then i'll-" she was interrupted by the sound of tapping glass.

"i think it came from the balcony, i'll go check." jirou sat up from the bed and headed to the direction of the noise.

it was him. standing behind a glass wall, his face similar to yours. she could tell that the last three weeks were rough for the both of you, but she couldn't sympathise with a bastard that brought this onto himself. not even that. she couldn't sympathise with anyone but her best friend. she slid the door open partially, wide enough so that he could hear her speak.

"what do you want? you shouldn't be here." her tone was bitter.

"y/n, is she home?" he was quiet and his head hung low, as if he was grovelling at the ground.

"and if she is?"

"let me speak to her please."

"you don't deserve to even be near her, let alone talk to her. you hurt her." her fists were clenched tightly, she was ready to throw it down if it came to that.

"i know. that's why i want to speak to her, please."

she slammed the glass door open, quickly turning her back on him and making her way to your bedroom. "he's here. i let him in but if you don't want to talk to him then i'll kick him right out."

"LET ME HAVE AT IT FIRST JIROU!" she raised her arm up, swinging it around like she was ready to rumble.

"i- i can do it..."

"we can wait outside if you need us to y/n."

"no, you've done more than enough. two free coffees each?"

"then we'll be leaving, next time we see each other it's for coffee on the house."

"text us right after he's gone! you can tell us about the event when you're up to it!"

they picked up their stuff and headed out the door, you waved at them until you couldn't hear them anymore. hawks shuffled his way into your room, his bags almost as dark as yours. you couldn't stand to look at him so you stared at your bedsheets, your hair covering the sides of your face. if silence could kill, the two of you would be dead. he made his way to the side of your bed, taking a seat on the very edge.

"hey. how you been baby bird?" he tried to take your hand into his, but before he could touch the tip of your fingers you slapped his hand away completely.

"don't call me that. and don't you dare touch me."

"i'm sorry. i didn't mean to disappear on you-"

"didn't mean to? oh because that matters now, mr i don't want to pick up calls or texts for three weeks." you looked at him straight in the eyes, your gaze dark and full of anger.

"my thoughts overwhelmed me and i didn't know what to do-"

"so you ran away." you cut him off.

"guess that's what i'm good at." he put a hand in his pocket and pulled something out. he opened his palm out to you, revealing your feather hairclip.

"how did you- when did you-"

"keigo takami."

the world stopped. you hadn't heard his name in years. you never thought another being would ever mention his name to you. you were filled with questions. how did he know kei? why did he know kei? when did he know?

"how do you know kei." you tugged at his sleeve, pulling him closer towards you so that he could answer your questions.

"because i'm the one who made your hairclip."

hawks explained everything to you. when his mother took him away from the house, the hero commission taking him in, his years of training to be the commission's 'dog'. he tried to look into you for years, though your documents seemed to be untraceable. he didn't know if you were the right one, so he held back all this information until he was sure.

"you've really grown up beautiful y/n." he brushed a strand of hair out of your face, then placing his hand on your cheek.

"guess so...when did you know?"

"at the end of our date, your hairclip was calling out to me. so before i left the hotel that morning i swiped it to test out a theory i had."

"and the ghosting me for three weeks?"

"just me being a bastard and running away from the truth. when i joined the commission i promised to leave 'keigo takami' behind. but how can i do that now that you're back in my life?" he pulled you for a hug, and you let him.

"so we're bringing kei home?" your arms slumped around his neck, your face nuzzling into his neck. oh how you missed his scent.

"yeah, i'm finally home."

"welcome home kei."

he crawled into your bed next to you, his face buried in your soft chest. you pulled the blanket over the two of you and you rested your hands on his head. fluffy blond hair at your fingertips, grazing gently against your touch. he was out cold after a few head scratches and so were you, his hand rubbing your back. to rest in each other's arms once more was heavenly. it felt safe and warm. and it felt as if the void in your heart was finally closing for good.

though the chip on hawks' wings wasn't so sure of that.

[explode-this]

Re: last reblog:

The thing that finally flipped the switch, that got me from Bulimia All Day Every Day 24/7/365 NEVER STOP, was realizing that if I was ever going to be well I had to accept one very simple thing:

Being fat is not the end of the world.

This is not easy thing to accept, because we live in a world that says exactly that. Where you can read whole Twitter threads full of self-loathing people who would rather die early of a disease that requires the use of steroids to control than be made fat by their medication. Where doctors might not find your cancer until it’s way too fucking late because they assume any sign of ill-health is because you’re DEATHFAT (that’s what people generally mean when they say “obese,” so I’m just not sugarcoating it—plus I feel so much more metal blithely describing myself as not just fat but DEATHFAT). Where the merest hint of fat body representation in conjunction with positivity brings out a mewling crowd of Concerned Citizens™️ to sniffle and say “well I’m all for body positivity, but some people take it TOO FAR.”

I had to go on a calorie-restricted diet before I had my gallbladder out last April. It became my full-time job, just watching everything like a hawk, being on it for twice the amount of time than is usually prescribed (you know, because DEATHFAT). I was weak, I was tired, I was petrified I was going to be full bulimic again in a matter of weeks. I did in fact purge once because I freaked out about eating a few too many crackers. Getting medical help shouldn’t do that to you, but here we are.

But I didn’t fall back into that behavior. I didn’t start hating myself or exercising too much out of shame. I did begin going to the skating rink with regularity again, but it wasn’t just to burn calories or “earn” my food, the way I used to. It was to have FUN. It was to enjoy the muscle memory and skills I built over years of roller derby instead of letting my skates sit and gather dust. (Derby, I might add, was a time in my life where the combination of so much training and being on ADHD meds for the first time and going all the way back to active bulimia meant a massive weight loss—and well-meaning “friends” telling me that i “looked like a person now!” Team Captain, I love you, but girl—fuck off.)

I understand that there will ALWAYS be people who think they know what I’m eating or doing with my life by looking at me. People I can skate circles around, mind you. People who have never tried my cooking and see how jam-packed it is with vegetables. People who don’t know how many years of other people’s opinions I had to shrug off to wear the cute clothes I enjoy instead of oversized, misshapen garbage garments to hide from the world as to not offend someone else’s delicate sensibilities.

But being fat is not the end of the world.

I don’t worry about the size of my ass. I don’t worry about what my arms look like in tshirts. I don’t try to hide my soft tum-tum or disguise my thighs. I move my body because I love to move my body. I eat vegetables because they’re delicious and frankly I don’t know how to cook meat. I eat a bacon cheeseburger every week after Wednesday skating because it’s delicious.

It takes a very long time to get here. But it’s worth it.

I’d rather be kind, and funny, and smart, and well-read, and crafty, and creative, AND fat, than waste my life doing only some of those things and being cranky and self-obsessed because I’m wasting too much time trying not to be fat.

So if this is the opposite of every message you ever see out there, I want you to know this truth, delivered to you from the bottom of my plump little soul:

Being fat is not the end of the world.

[stillebesat]

Beneath the Moon -Part 1

December Drabbles Day 18  Sanders Sides: Logan, Roman Blurb: After all the research he’d done, after all the signs he’d been experiencing. Logan needed someone to tell him he wasn’t crazy. And Roman...Roman had always been the one most likely to believe in the fantastical, the impossible, the...supernatural. Fic Type: Werewolf!AU Overall Fic Warnings: Bite Wound -Semi-Detailed, Dog Attack Mention, Injuries, War Talk, Fighting Talk, Death/Dying Talk Taglist in Reblog.  

“A werewolf.” 

Logan swallowed, fiddling with the loosely wrapped bandage on his hand as he kept his eyes firmly on Roman’s ankles. “I told you.” He said. “It isn’t logical.” 

“Hence why you came to me because I’m…what was that phrase you used the last time we…talked?” 

Logan ran his uninjured hand through his hair as he ducked his head. Why had he ever thought, after how they’d left things off, that Roman would actually help him? The unhealing bite wound had to be infected and addling his brains despite the numerous doctors visits and medications he’d been on this past month that would prove otherwise. 

“I believe I called you a ‘pompous prick of a prince stuck in a permanent delusional daydream.’” He whispered.

Roman snorted, uncrossing his legs as he leaned forward like a hawk about to snatch up his prey. “Trust the Brain to remember such a phrase after what? Fifteen years, Lo.” 

This was a mistake. Logan made a noncommittal sound as he hunched his shoulders. But he’d seen Roman and just---reacted, instinctively trusting that he would be able to help. 

After all the research he’d done, after all the signs he’d been experiencing. Logan needed someone to tell him he wasn’t crazy. And Roman...Roman had always been the one most likely to believe in the fantastical, the impossible, the...supernatural. “It’s what I’m good at.” He said, closing his eyes, again fidgeting with the bandage. “Remembering things.” 

He’d been teased constantly for his memory all throughout school. Been called Sherlock or Brain so often that half their graduating class didn’t know his actual name. 

Which made the fact that he couldn’t remember the fever filled two days after he’d received this...this bite...from that black dog--wolf?...more concerning.  

And after a month’s long session of ‘research’ into his wound, his further symptoms, and the circumstances around his bite and the dog--wolf that had bitten him…had led him to the only explanation that fit the entire experience. 

He’d been bitten by a werewolf. 

And if...IF this was true, his research pointed to the strong possibility that in under an hour, when the full moon rose, Logan would forcibly be changed from man to wolf. 

He didn’t want to believe it. 

But all the signs pointed to it. His sudden allergy to silver. Cats no longer liking him. An increase in appetite, especially for red meat--which Logan had historically disliked the taste of. His eyesight inexplicably improving to the point where he no longer needed to wear his glasses. His sense of smell and hearing randomly becoming overwhelming to the point he could barely function only to return to normal a split second later. And most importantly, the fact that the bite wound on his hand would not heal, which a very dusty book from the library had stated would not vanish until after the first full moon after the bite occurred---all pointed to him being a werewolf.

 But it wasn’t like Logan could just tell anyone about this theory of his. About what he thought could happen tonight.

After all, werewolves shouldn’t exist. 

To confide to anyone that he thought that they did and that he could become one tonight because he’d been bitten by a dog that looked like a wolf--

“And you thought...that I was still this...delusional Prince?” Roman asked, raising an eyebrow, his amber eyes glittering. “Willing to go along with any make-believe or fantasy adventure that comes my way at the drop of a hat?” 

Logan could feel the heat rising to his cheeks and hated himself for it. Of course it was crazy to expect that Roman of all people would believe him. 

In retrospect he probably was the worst choice Logan could have made when choosing to confide in someone. After all, they had been, for all intents and purposes, enemies for the past fifteen years. 

Yet Logan had momentarily forgotten that little fact. Had only remembered his childhood friend who had lived and breathed adventure growing up and would probably be the one most likely to believe him when he saw him pull into his driveway. 

A Child’s fantasy was a lot different from an Adult’s though.

And Roman...Roman had gone from wanting to be an Actor in high school to choosing to serve three tours overseas in the War and coming back a decorated hero. Someone who had seen the darker side of being a modern day knight in shining armor and yet had chosen to embrace that reality anyways. 

Even sitting, Roman commanded the room. He was all confidence, a lion lounging on his throne, claws only sheathed because there was no need to use them...yet. 

And if things went…badly. It was all too likely that he would use those warrior skills and shoot Logan the moment he...he changed. After all, Roman was now trained to see threats and take care of them.

Werewolves were historically, in their lore, always a threat. A danger to society.

Logan squeezed his eyes shut, conscious of how his heart rate had picked up. 

Mistake. Mistake! MISTAKE!

He had under an hour to get to a place where he could potentially shift in safety. Where he could test his theory of what he was and how he would change without endangering himself or any people who might be around and here he was talking to his high school enemy like he expected Roman to take him in like a lost injured puppy.

Logan pushed to his feet, bringing his bandaged hand to his chest protectively. “My apologies, Roman.” He said, unable to look up from the ground to properly face him. Roman probably was staring at him like he was a crazed loon after his sudden appearance on his doorstep and the ludicrous story he’d just told. “I shouldn’t have intruded in such a manner.” He turned for the door. “I’ll see myself out.”

He’d been so desperate to find someone, anyone to humor him. Someone he could trust. To help him test out his theory. To make sure that IF he changed. If something went wrong. That--that if he--he became a crazed bloodthirsty beast, there would be someone there to take care of it--keep him safe from hurting others. 

Or…if nothing happened. Which Logan desperately wanted to believe. That nothing would happen. That the moon would rise and he would just be standing there, perfectly fine and definitely embarrassed to have indulged in such a fancy...that someone would keep his momentary lapse in judgement quiet--

He highly doubted that Roman would keep this particular visit quiet. What sane person would? Logan probably looked like a crazed lunatic, showing up out of the blue in an old NASA t-shirt and worn jeans, spouting off theories on how he could be a new-made werewolf going to change for the first time tonight--Roman should have called the police as soon as he opened his mouth.

Logan would have, had their positions been switched. 

He tensed, breath hitching as Roman caught his wrist in an iron grip before he’d taken three steps, conscious of the fact that his childhood friend probably now knew twelve different ways to incapacitate him before he could blink.  

“You didn’t show me the bite wound.” Roman said, voice soft. “How can you tell me such a fantastical story and expect me to believe you if you don’t show me your key piece of proof?” 

Logan bit his bottom lip, daring to glance at his childhood friend, gauging how serious he was about seeing the injury. 

“Well?” Roman held out his hand, palm up towards Logan. “It’s not like I haven’t seen my fair share of battle wounds, Lo. I doubt your little bite will compare.”

That was true. Roman had seen battle. War. People dead and dying.

Logan steeled himself, he’d been careful about who touched his injured hand, not sure what the wound would do should it come in contact with another. “It’s not a little bite.” He said, reluctantly holding it out to him.  

He raised an eyebrow, a small smirk playing on his lips. “I’ll be the judge of that.” 

Logan looked away as Roman unraveled the bandage. His feet shifted in place as he glanced at the clock on the mantle, watching the second hand tick its way closer to the full moon’s rising. 

It was odd...Roman had never needed proof before. He’d been the sort to take people at their word and go harring off at the slightest hint of an adventure.

Obviously he had changed far more after high school than Logan had anticipated. It was--

Roman whistled as the last of the bandages fell to the ground. “This...happened a month ago?” He asked, turning Logan’s hand over studying the bite that formed a large crescent shape from his middle finger down to his wrist. 

“Twenty-eight days.” He corrected, wincing as Roman gently poked the wound. He’d been attacked on the last night of last month’s full moon cycle. 

“It looks--”

“Fresh?” Besides the visible lack of blood coming from the wound, it looked like it could have happened only minutes ago.

“Horrible.” Roman frowned. “I’ve seen men take sharpenal to their hands and this--just a bit more pressure and you could have lost your thumb and two fingers--”

Logan winced, his stomach twisting. “I know--I didn’t.” It had been a close thing though. He could have lost half his hand if the wolf had dug its teeth just half an inch deeper into his flesh and pulled, it was a miracle he could still use his fingers at all. Another inconsistency really, with normal dog bites. His hand still worked perfectly despite the large wound maring half of the surface that should have destroyed his tendons and muscles.

“And you’ve tried--”

“Everything short of surgery.” And with his hand able to function normally, no Doctor was willing to try that just yet, not after a single month. “Nothing heals it.” 

Roman hummed. “An unhealing wound.” He mumbled, looking up. He frowned, raising a hand to Logan’s chin, turning his head this way and that as he peered into his eyes. “Did you always have a golden tint to your irises?” He asked, trailing his fingers down to press gently against the side of Logan’s throat, where the pulse of his heart frantically pounded against Roman’s warm fingers.

Logan swallowed, feeling the color draining from his face. Golden tint? “No.” He whispered. “They’ve always been green. You know that.” 

Roman clicked his tongue, abruptly pulling away from him and crossing his arms. “Okay. Say, hypothetically, I don’t think you’re crazy.”

Logan blinked at the sudden change in tone. “You don’t?” He asked, not quite believing he was hearing this as pulling his hand back to his chest. It would be pointless to try and rebandage it with the moon so close to rising.

“Hypothetically.” Roman stressed, giving him a tight smile. “If you are going to turn into this--” He waved a hand around. “Werewolf creature. What exactly did you want my help for? Cus I highly doubt you’re thinking something stupid like true love’s kiss will work in this particular scenario of yours that you’ve set up.”

To Be Continued.  Part 2

[whimsandvanillalattes]

"You?" (Part 2)

Pairing: Kwon Jiyong (G Dragon) x Reader

Genre: Soulmate AU, Romance, a dash of fluff

Soulmate AU Prompt: Soulmates have identical counters that count the number of times they have passed their soulmate.

Part: 2/?

Part 1 | Part 3

Alternatively titled: Y/N and GD think too much.

A/N: Thank you everyone who read the first part and everyone who liked/left comments/reblogged. It means the world to me. Also, I’m so so sorry for not updating sooner. As an apology, accept this really long part! Another thing I want to add is that I’m more used to writing OC stories rather than reader centered ones. I really tried to make Y/N gender neutral but for some reason I couldn’t make that work. I’m really sorry about that too. Please bear with a Fem!Y/N here. For my next story, I’ll definitely make a gender neutral Y/N.

-

You swore under your breath as you veered around an elderly couple. You had overslept and if you didn’t reach the train station in another minute, you were going to be late for class. You lived at the university dorms so you had never really been late before. But you and one of your best friends had had a sleepover at your other best friend’s house and last night had been spent binge watching Lee Jong Suk’s dramas (in honor of his enlistment, and because you just loved him). Unlike you, they didn’t have morning classes so now they were sleeping soundly at home while you were just hoping you reached class before your professor.

Luck was not in your favor though, because you encountered one of the largest crowds you had ever seen (and you had seen a lot, considering how much of your free time you spent going to music shows and fan meets) at a little distance from the station. You saw some people taking pictures and, while you were offended on behalf of their center-of-attention whose privacy was being invaded, a part of you was tempted to stop and see which idol or actor was causing this commotion—you were sure it was either of the two because that was the only logical explanation. But your professor’s angry face appeared before your eyes, and you seriously wanted to not fail, so you pushed through the crowd and got to the station.

About ten minutes into your journey, your phone began to vibrate. Intensely. You pulled it out of your pocket and saw a ton of notifications. Most were from twitter, accompanied by a single one from a tabloid. You clicked on that, figuring it would make more sense than the frenzy of tweets. The headline read:

BIGBANG’S G-DRAGON spotted enjoying his military leave with his sister.

The article went on to say that he had “attracted a lot of attention.” So GD was on a leave? And so-called fans and paparazzi—or should you say Dispatch—wouldn’t even let him relax on his break. Now, you wouldn’t call yourself a VIP, but you had been listening to K-pop since you learnt the language and regarded BIGBANG as one of K-pop’s legendary groups. You could sing along to most of their songs and many of their solos (maybe you should call yourself a VIP). Which made you not exactly happy about how GD was being treated.

The tabloid article also had pictures. Dispatch is fast, you thought. He was wearing a black mask and a cap, so his face was barely visible. It was surprising how anyone had managed to recognize him. But then again, you had recognized him in the photos immediately so it wouldn’t have been hard for longtime VIPs to do the same. Taking a closer look at the photos, you noticed something strange. His surroundings looked familiar. Two years of living in Seoul had made you quite well-acquainted with the city and with a start, you recognized his location. The crowd you had just encountered had been caused by him.

The fangirl inside you freaked out. You had walked right past THE G-Dragon. A part of you cursed yourself for wanted to be a good student and not stopping, while another part tried to convince you to get off the train at the next station and run back. The more rational part of you, however, curbed all these stupid ideas. Enough people had swarmed him already without you joining them. Besides, you had a class to get to.

Scrolling through the comments, you were in the midst of adding one of your own to rebuke Dispatch for invading his privacy and making him uncomfortable when something on your wrist caught your eye and you almost dropped the phone. Setting it down on your lap, you turned your wrist over.

And gasped.

The 0 you were accustomed to seeing on the inside of your right wrist was not there. In its place was a cursive 1.

-

You ended up skipping the first class, not because you didn’t reach the university on time, but because you spent about half an hour in the toilet bawling your eyes out. You had finally passed the boy you had wanted to meet your entire life. Only, you had simply passed him, without even realizing it. What were the odds of meeting the guy you passed only once in your two years in Seoul, especially when you had passed each other at or around a busy train station? You weren’t one to be pessimistic usually, but it was frustrating how you moved to an entirely different country for your soulmate, but you hadn’t even been able to find out what said soulmate looked like.

Your bad (awful) day didn’t end after that. Sleep deprivation combined with narrowly missing your soulmate lead to a terrible mood and a terrible headache, you learnt, and you were not able to concentrate in any of your classes. So, several consecutive classes later, you had a clear plan in your head. You were going to crash onto your bed in the dorm and catch up on at least a bit of the sleep you had forsaken for Lee Jong Suk. You would worry about your soulmate when you were thinking straight.

Naturally, you forgot to set your alarm.

For the second time that day, you overslept. This time you were running late for work. Unlike class, you had been late for work several times and knew that your manager would absolutely kill you if you were late again. So, you got dressed in a frenzy, almost left all the lights switched on, and, for the second time that day, you ran for your life.

You reached the coffee shop you worked at ten minutes after your shift started and thankfully your manager thought a warning glare was enough punishment. You hurried to the employees’ room at the back of the shop and changed into your uniform. A quick peek in the mirror informed you that you looked like a mess. Your dark circles had somehow intensified and your hair resembled a bird’s nest, courtesy of the fact that you hadn’t bothered to brush it. It was frustrating how this was what you looked like the day your soulmate showed up (though you were sure he hadn’t noticed you either). You pulled it back into a ponytail in a measly attempt to tame it. While it was not the most effective, at least now you looked less like a homeless sleep deprived person and would gladly face your soulmate if he showed up at the coffee shop. Which was next to impossible, because he had never come here in the two years you had been working here.

The smell of coffee began to put your mind at ease once you settled down at the counter. As you prepared two teenage girls’ orders—a strawberry shake and an iced americano (totally contrasting drinks, you mentally noted)—you fell into a sort of routine, unlike the events of the morning. That put you in a comparatively comfortable state of mind and your thoughts finally began to align themselves. Usually, you kept a novel or a textbook with you during your shift but having very conveniently forgotten to bring anything with you afforded you the opportunity to think of your soulmate—who hadn’t really left your mind all day anyway. Maybe he took the morning train from that station everyday and you hadn’t ever crossed him before because that was not your usual route? You often stayed at your friend’s house, so you had taken trains from that station many times though. Had the timing always been wrong? Or had your soulmate recently moved to Seoul? Was he from another city? Busan? Daejeon? Pyongyang, North Korea?

A loud grumbling sound broke your train of thoughts. With a start, you realized it had ensued from your stomach. The only thing you had consumed the entire day was a cup of coffee and some cookies you had found in your bag. You were starving. A particular red velvet cupcake, with cream cheese frosting, had caught your eye and was enticing you to have it. The only customer in the shop was seated at a table by the window, typing away at his laptop. He had been like that for about an hour, his now cold coffee abandoned on the table. You could afford a snack break, then. There was at least one perk of working at a place that had food. You retrieved cupcake and quickly punched yourself a receipt which included the 20% employees’ discount, adding the due amount to the cash register. You settled down on a stool and indulged in a bite of the heavenly cupcake (that you enjoyed more than you normally would because of the lack of food in your system).

The bell above the door rang, and you tried to swallow it down so that you could greet the new customer. You glanced towards the door and nearly choked on said cupcake. Walking towards the counter, wearing a black hoodie and the same cap he was wearing in the picture you had seen earlier but having somehow lost the mask, was Kwon Jiyong. Aka GD. Aka G-Dragon.

What? How? What is he doing here? Is it really him? But-

Incoherent half-thoughts ran through your mind, but the gist was wondering why he was here of all places. Was it because this particular coffee shop was not in a mainstream area? Or had he suddenly craved coffee and had been tempted by the fact that there was only one other customer?

You were able to regain some of your composure and uh, not choke by the time he got to you. Your manager’s hawk eyes were on you and you could not afford to appear unprofessional, no matter how much you wanted to squeal and ask this man for an autograph. He probably noticed that you knew who he was though because a wide smile appeared on his face and you nearly melted in a puddle (Be professional, Y/N! you scolded yourself internally.) Either that, or he had found your almost-choking antic amusing. Possibly both.

“Good evening, sir!” At least your voice hadn’t betrayed you.

“Hello,” he said, raising his eyebrows. “Your Korean pronunciation is pretty good.”

“Oh, thank you.” A blush threatened to appear on your face. “I’ve been living in Seoul for a while.” And I’ve been learning Korean for more than a decade, you decided to not add.

He ordered an iced Americano and you began to prepare it for him. Unlike with most customers, you felt extra nervous, mainly because you could feel his eyes following you. You were just hoping not to mess up.

“You know,” he began, “I thought you would ask me for an autograph. I know you recognized me.”

Whoops, busted!

You smiled. “I want to, but my manager would kill me if I do, so I can’t.” Conversing with him had seemed like a hurdle two seconds ago but now that he had initiated conversation, it was just…natural. As if talking to Kwon Jiyong was the most normal thing in the world and something you had been doing your entire life.

He chuckled. “You’re that scared of him?”

“I can’t afford to lose this job,” you said, shrugging as you handed him his drink. You had never seen him in person before, and you were a pretty big fan of his, but after your initial shock, you couldn’t help but wonder at how comfortable you felt talking to him. It was strange because you were the kind of person who could never be completely relaxed talking to an ordinary person for the first time, much less talking to an idol.

“I guess I can give it to you the next time I come here, then.”

Now that was something that made you almost freak out. “You’re going to come here again?” you asked. It was hard to mask the excitement on your face, and he seemed to find that very amusing. At least, that was what you inferred from the wide gummy smile that adorned his face, and you couldn’t help thinking of how cute it looked.

He took a sip from his drink. “Well, the coffee’s good,” he grinned, “So yeah, I am.” His phone buzzed and he glanced at the screen.

“I need to go now.” He stepped back from the counter. “See you next time.”

“Bye!” you called out. He waved at you over his shoulder as he opened the door and for some reason you were waving back, not caring that your manager was rolling his eyes at you.

*

“Oh, sit down already!” your roommate and one of your best friends, Soo-jin, whined. You rolled your eyes as you plopped down on your bed next to Min-ji, your other best friend.

“Okay, now spill,” Min-ji ordered. You had briefly told them what happened the entire day and they had deemed it too important to discuss in the morning, so the three of you were now gathered at your dorm room. Min-ji was the friend whose house you had had a sleepover at the previous night. She had decided to stay at your and Soo-jin’s room that night so you could talk peacefully.

“What do I start with, GD or soulmate?”

“GD!” they cried in unison. Both of them had been BIGBANG fans since they were kids. You told them how you had seen a crowd in the morning which had turned out to be because of him, and then how he had showed up at your workplace. When you finished, they just stared at you for a second.

“Woah,” Min-ji breathed out finally. “You’re so damn lucky.”

“But he is so sweet!” Soo-jin exclaimed. The fangirling was starting now. “He even asked if you wanted an autograph.”

“I know right. And telling her that he’d come again!” Min-ji was almost squealing now. She looked at you. “How did you even survive it?”

“I almost didn’t. I’m just glad I didn’t totally freak out and left a, you know, terrible impression.” You shrugged. Now that you thought of it, it was odd that he had talked to you at all. Hadn’t he been ambushed by enough fans already for one day? He knew you knew who he was, so why talk to you any more than necessary? In any case, the three of you discussed (err, fangirled over) him a little longer before Min-ji remembered you had another important matter to discuss.

“What about your soulmate, though?” she asked. “When did you pass him?” Both of your friends had already found their soulmates. Min-ji’s happened to be her neighbor so they had known each other almost their entire lives. Soo-jin’s soulmate was one of your seniors and they had met a little after she started university.

“My counter changed to one in the morning.” You leaned back into a pillow. “I noticed when I was on the train. We probably crossed on the station, or when I was rushing to it.” You sighed. If only you had been paying more attention to your surroundings, you would have met yours too.

“Hey, what if your soulmate’s one of those Dispatch photographers?” Soo-jin exclaimed. You snorted.

“Dispatch? Seriously?” You rolled your eyes at her. You could always count on your friends to find all sorts of weird ways to cheer you up.

“That’s totally possible, though,” Min-ji added, playing along. “Didn’t you say he’s older than you?”

“You’ll have to start stalking Dispatch’s professional stalkers!”

“That might actually end up being a good thing.” You laughed. “I’d know all the latest gossip.”

Min-ji nudged you with her foot. “Show us your counter.” You thrust your wrist towards them. They promptly gasped, as you had expected them to. Your friends tended to be quite dramatic too.

“I know,” you began, “it is surprising. I was so shock—”

“Y/N,” Min-ji interrupted, “when did you last check your counter.”

“When I was leaving for work, I think. Why?”

“Well, it’s not Dispatch, for sure,” Soo-jin whistled.

“What?”

“Look at it again.”

You did, and you gasped too. Your wrist didn’t say 1 anymore. Now it read 2.

-

To say that Jiyong was confused would be an understatement. He was far beyond confusion. He was conflicted in the worst possible way. His entire day had been…chaotic. It hadn’t entirely been bad—he had experienced intense excitement and adoration at one point—but it had not been an ideal way to spend his break. Even trying to make sense of everything that had happened made his head throb.

When he had managed to disengage himself from the swarm of paparazzi at the station, he noticed that the counter that had read 0 for the past 20 years suddenly read 1. He had always imagined he would be overjoyed at this occasion. Strangely, he hadn’t been anywhere near overjoyed. He had become too used to living as if he had no soulmate. The discovery that not only did he have one, but that his soulmate was very close was a change he hadn’t seen coming, and it was not entirely welcome. And, he had to admit, he was also frustrated because he had only passed his soulmate, rather than actually meeting.

He had decided he needed coffee to clear his head and had taken great pains to find a place where he could get it without attracting public notice (again). At least, he had thought that was his consideration. But, in hindsight, it could have been the soulmate pull. They did say it worked in strange ways. How else could he, out of all the coffee shops in Seoul, have ended up at the one his soulmate worked at? Crossing her once in a day could be a coincidence but meeting her again in the span of some hours could most certainly not be one. In any case, he had winded up at her workplace. There, he had encountered a cute, albeit quite young, foreign part-timer who knew him, he had realized immediately. After the rough morning, he should have bolted but something had compelled him to stay. And he had discovered that the part-timer was fun to talk to.

He hadn’t realized she was his soulmate until he got back to his car and his manager pointed out that his counter had changed again. That was when things had begun to click in his head and the reason talking to her was fun started to become clear. He had been tempted to run back inside and tell her this new turn of events. But that had been accompanied with thoughts of rejection that held him back, and he had felt suffocated beneath a variety of emotions. Instead, he had told his manager to drive on.

That was why he was currently lying on his living room couch, a steaming bowl of ramen he suddenly did not want to eat abandoned on the mahogany table in front of him and all the lights expect the one in the hallway switched off. The atmosphere was gloomy, but he liked it better that way; it was a perfect representation of his inner turmoil. Her eyes, wide with excitement and surprise as they had been when he had mentioned coming again, seemed to be permanently etched in his brain. Now that he had uncovered her identity, the pull felt even stronger. His entire being was craving her. And she had moved to Seoul, so that would mean she was looking for her soulmate too. Had she put two and two together yet and realized she was actually looking for him?

But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t shake off the doubts. He had gotten his counter when he was ten, so that would mean she had to be twenty. He had always known about the age gap, so it didn’t really bother him. It wasn’t like she was a minor or anything. But was she okay with it? All her knowledge about her soulmate came from whatever he had first said after she was born. He didn’t even remember what he had said. He just hoped it wasn’t something stupid. In any case, the most she could have inferred from that would be that he was a Korean man a few years older than her. There was a big difference in being a few years older and around ten years older. And did she even want him as her soulmate? His life hadn’t really been a pure, sinless, scandal-free one. She probably knew about that.

And most importantly, he didn’t like the pull. His mind was sort of sick of the effect the bond was having on him. It wasn’t her fault, but it made him want to avoid her at all costs.

What was he to do now? Go to her the next day? Or pretend his counter still said 0? Coming to a conclusion was not easy. He told himself to wait until his enlistment was over and then approach her. If she wanted to find him, she wouldn’t leave before she did. But even when eventually he drifted into a light, troubled slumber, he had not managed to convince himself.

[mszegedy]

30 Days of Autism Acceptance: Days 17-26

This is a list of questions by @autie-jake (full list here), where you’re supposed to answer one per day for every day of April. I keep forgetting to do these daily, so here’s all the days since my last post. My last post is here.

April 17: Have you experienced ableism before? If so, how did it feel and how did you handle it?

Yes! Actually, it made my childhood so bad that my brain decided to forget it. So, clearly nothing to write about here.

April 18: Discuss how you felt when you felt when you first learnt you were autistic vs how you feel now.

I’m not good at the whole “remembering how I feel” thing. My memories of my feelings are all semantic memory. I know as a 6th grader I thought autism was super cool and I read a whole autobiography of an autistic savant because I wanted to find out more about it (Born on a Blue Day by Daniel Tammett). After a lot of intense research, I decided that I couldn’t conclusively self-diagnose, and regretfully slinked away back into not understanding or advocating for my needs. Sometime later, an actually autistic coworker of mine looked at me for like five (5) minutes, and was like, “Hey, have you been diagnosed with autism yet?” I’ve since adopted her as my second mom, for that and other reasons. I’ve had very few moments in my life when I was sad to have an autistic trait, and I got over it fairly quickly.

April 19: Talk about scripting. Is scripting something that you normally do? What kind of situations do you have a script for? Does it help you?

People don’t like my apologies, so I have a couple apology scripts saved. Otherwise I tend to just wing it and fail spectacularly. The apology scripts tend to sound… scripted, but they’re better than just doing it myself, I think.

April 20: Discuss stimming. In what ways do you stim? What does stimming mean to you? What do individual stims that you do mean? Do you have any stim toys? What would you like people to know about stimming?

Pressure stims are the most important stims for me. I’m more likely to be squeezing a part of my body than not. If nothing else, I can cross my legs tight and squeeze them together. This doesn’t have any specific function; it’s just something I do that makes me feel better. When I’m stressed, I do it more.

I also do motion stims. Often my way of locomotion is more like dancing. This is a little strange, because I don’t otherwise dance. I always feel happy, relaxed, and in control when I do that. When I’m sad or tired, my feet are too heavy for it. I am also very animate with my hands when I talk. When I taught English in Hungary for the first time, the first question I was asked whether all Americans talk with their hands as much as I do. (I don’t think they do. I have it on good authority from at least one American I trust utterly that the way I use my hands is rather unique.)

I have two improvised stim toys for pressure stimming (a scarf for wrapping very tight around limbs, and a butterknife for applying waves of uniform pressure). I also recently found one of those head scratchy thingies, and now I use it every five minutes or so. It’s a little inconvenient with headphones on, but I’m rather creative with it, anyway. I don’t actually like light touch or tickles, but generally the head scratchy thingy can be given enough pressure to provide a substantial stimulus.

April 21: Give a shoutout to some of your favorite autism blogs/autistic bloggers

UM. HMM. Like 10-50% of the people I follow are autistic, but hell if I can remember any of their handles.

I reblog from @nonbinary-hawke and their native issues-related sideblog @finding-my-culture like multiple times a day but I’m pretty sure they kinda just tolerate me? I’m mostly cut off from the actual native community I’m supposed to be part of (the Siberian one), so I try to follow American native issues with kind of a “not my lane but I’m still sympathetic” vibe, and their blogs are most of my way of keeping in touch. But we have a lot of other random things in common too; similar age, similar neurotype, similar fandoms, etc. So I’m pretty much always gonna have a platonic tumblr crush on them, given that and how much I respect their principles.

@autisticadvocacy is ASAN’s official blog, I think, and it’s always posting useful and relevant articles.

@autisticjoy and @autismisaokay are two blogs I’ve followed for most of my time on tumblr. I get the majority of my autism-related content from them.

@autistic-noodle is the first autism-related blog I ever followed! I highly recommend her; if I haven’t unfollowed her after all this time, then that means that they’ve never reblogged anything that’s triggered me, which is pretty darn impressive.

@bogleech is my favorite webcomic artist, which is a vaunted honor coming from someone with ¾ of a special interest in webcomics. I’m not actually sure if he’s autistic, but he posts enough autism-related content to justify being on this list one way or another.

I’ve definitely learned at least one useful thing from @autisticlifehack. What was it? Who knows?

@autistic-flirting is very cute, if not very active.

Shout out to @tikibats and @dreamfriend, who I actually know IRL.

April 22: What are some social rules that do not make sense to you/that you don't understand?

I’m, uh. Actually not sure? I can usually explain stuff if I think hard enough. There’s some stuff I’ve never bothered to figure out, but none of it’s so pressing that I can actually remember it.

Oh! Actually! One night during freshman year of college, I went to the computer lab to do my homework in a not-at-all-revealing bathrobe. I’ve received several explanations on why this was wrong, but I don’t remember any of them.

April 23: Do you have any internal rules? What are they?

LOTS, wow. If I didn’t have them, I wouldn’t have any shred of consistency whatsoever. I am nothing but these rules. Some of them feel more like strong opinions that can be taken or left, like the ones pertaining to writing style, but even those I follow 99% of the time. They range from really foundational moral ones like, “Everything with a mind intrinsically deserves your friendship and understanding,” and, “Every neurotype deserves to exist,” to, “Always wrap code to 80 columns (unless it’s highly nested like Lisp, in which case consider 100 columns),” and, “When mixing fruit flavor tea, always pour the syrup before the tea.” It’s quite the hodgepodge.

April 24: Talk about community. What does the autistic community mean to you? Is it important? How does it feel?

I haven’t had much of a chance to actually participate in any autistic community yet. I don’t even really participate in the tumblr autistic community. It’s just sorta me, my second mom, and a couple random people I get to see occasionally. (Also, my dad, but we don’t talk about my dad.) Most of my friends are neurodivergent in some way, though, so I’m happy with the people I have. (Not that I don’t enjoy hanging around neurotypical people, too. But it feels good to not have to work to make yourself be understood.)

April 25: Do you know any other autistic people off the internet? Is anyone else in your family autistic or are you the only one? Do you wish you knew more?

See yesterday’s answer! I wouldn’t do this if I were doing these day by day, but I’m totally justified here, because it’s literally the previous paragraph.

April 26: In what ways can allistic people better accommodate you and other autistic people? What would you consider helpful?

It’s a broad question. My mom has been getting better at not punishing me for my autistic traits, but the other day she still antagonized me for stimming at the dinner table. (I’m 22. Nearly 23.) So it’d be great if she didn’t do things like that. Not even gonna talk about what my dad could do better. (The ways he does accomodate me seem unintentional.)

Outside of that, I appreciate it when people give me very clearly-worded instructions, broken down into small steps, with every possible detail specified. I appreciate it even more when those instructions are in written form, because I can only remember two or three of those when they’re spoken aloud.

I appreciate it when food places with complex menus have the option to just sit down with the menu, without a time limit, and make up your order. Sandwich and wrap places, like Subway, make me very uncomfortable for reason; Subway has an extremely combinatorically complex menu, and you’re expected to make up your order while they’re making the sandwich. I’d like to spend some time staring at a sheet with each sandwich ingredient listed and explained, and the ways they can be combined, first.

The current switch to online classes has been great for my ability to understand lectures, and terrible for my ability to do classwork and homework. Hearing the lecture through headphones circumvents most of my auditory processing issues, and seeing the lecture slides clearly circumvents most of my attention issues. But when it comes to doing classwork and homework, executive dysfunction rules me. I do wish my executive dysfunction were better accomodated for even in the case of normal classes (and probably careers), but it’s hard to guess what form that would take. I’ve run out of brainpower for good ideas.

For the rest of the month I will do these questions daily, one at a time. Hopefully.

[iamtaekooked]

Butterfly Love

For @juanichi

A/N: I chose jimin just because he is your bias!! I hope you like it :D

38.) I wanna be more than just friends with you

41.) Whenever we’re together I feel at home.

Pairing : Jimin x Reader  

Word count: 1.2k 

Excerpt: Its not some grand confession of love. It cant even really be classified as one. He didn't confess anything to you. He merely spoke what his heart desired. Its all very poetic just like a butterfly shedding its cocoon. Maybe it really has shed its cocoon, and as you looked at Jimin you were reminded of butterflies. 

Your eyes follow his moving figure from one place to another. You have seen him do this countless times, yet your heart flutters at the sight. Jimin moves every part of his body in sync with each beat. Its almost like watching a butterfly come out of its cocoon. Thats what he reminds you of. His body moves effortlessly as if he is made of nothing but water.

He swings out his arm forwards and leaps into the air with one leg stretched front, and the other back. He lands the move perfectly. You watch him in awe as he switches the style from contemporary to popping in just a matter of seconds, as the song switches from slow to fast. His eyes stay focused on the mirror as he watches his every move, and calculates what comes next. He never wavers in his concentration and continues to move his body left and right. He finishes with one last roll of his body and crouches on the floor with a hawk like expression on his face.

As the song fades into silence you clap as loud and as hard as you can. He turns around, and smiles at you. The seriousness in his features is replaced by softness, and you wish he hadn't stopped because you liked the serious him a bit better.

“How was it?” He breathes out as he takes swig of water from the bottle you hand him.

“Arent you tired of hearing me say it?” You ask. But you knew you were the only one nice enough to tell him that in order to humour him.

He shakes his head and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “I’ll never ever get tired of it” he huffs out.

You roll your eyes at him. It is typical of him to say that and safe to say you would have been highly disappointed if any other words had been uttered by him.

“You were amazing and absolutely breathtaking. You have jams Park Jimin”

“There it is. The source of all my happiness. The words that define my life” he grins toothily.

You attention is diverted to the tall figure of Taehyung entering the studio, who flips the door open. The sound is loud enough to send the whole floor into panic.

“Hey Jiminie” he greets. He waves at you and throws his hat which you barely manage to catch. He then proceeds to practice like Jimin had. Only he isn't as focused or disciplined. You won't expect any seriousness from him either. Its Taehyung after all.

Jimin takes a seat next to you. He sits awfully close and the entire hour that Taehyung practices your mind keeps wandering to the almost non existent space between you and Jimin. You mentally scold yourself for feeling so whipped for him. You glance at him as he follows Taehyung’s every move.

You avert your gaze to the boy dancing in front you, and watch as he huffs. He falls to the ground, half conscious. He is lying on his back with feet facing the mirror. He glances up at the two of you and smiles like he knows something.

“What?”  You look at him.

“Just date already” he laughs and sits up. He spins himself around so he is facing you two and points to your hands.

You look down and are very surprised to see your hand tangled in with Jimin’s. Embarrassment overcomes you and you hastily pull your hand away from his.

Avoiding the fierce eyes of both men on you, you mumble your response.

“Its not like that Tae. We are just friends”

As soon as the words are uttered, Jimin gets up on his feet and walks away. He doesn't give you the time to react. You watch him as he exits and turn towards tae who still has a glint of amusement in his eyes. His lopsided smile gives it all away.

“Are you sure?”he counters.

You stare at the floor, unable to coherently put your thoughts together. What was Tae trying to imply. It surely couldn't be that your interest and your feelings were reciprocated? You looked back at Tae hoping to get some sort of answer. But he shrugs in response and looks at the door.

“You might want to follow him” he says.Finally catching on you stand up. Before you exit to chase down Park Jimin, you look back at Tae and thank him. He gives you a two fingered salute and a wink.

You run out of the studio and into the cold winter morning. The snow is falling gently, and all around you the surroundings are covered with white. Your eyes dart around, scanning, for a sign of a red haired boy. He should have been easy to spot because of his bright red hair if it wasn't for the fact that he had been hiding behind a nearby tree. The grass under the tree is spot free and your figure the tree must have prevented the snow from falling down. Jimin is sitting with his knees hugging his chest and he is playing with a twig that he must have found nearby.

You cautiously approach him. He sits with his back to the tree and his scarf pulled up to his nose.

“You will get sick” you quitely say, avoiding his eyes.

Only a sniffle comes a reply and you wonder whether he is crying. You glimpse at him and look straight ahead again, just as you had done before.

You clear your throat. “Since when?”

“I dont know” he mutters

You nod in understanding. You both let silence engulf you as your minds draw a blank. He looks everywhere but you and you do the same. After a while, you don't know how long you have been sitting there, you decide to get up because you couldn't feel your legs. As you get up, he grabs your wrist. He looks up at you, and motions for you to sit back down. You assume your previous position and still avoid him

“I dont wanna be just friends with you” he says as he pulls down the scarf revealing his very red lips. He says it because he doesn't see the point in beating around the bush anymore.

Your heart rate speeds up, and your breath hitches in your throat. You slowly turn your head towards him and your eyes roam his profile.

“Look I don't know when it changed. I cant remember the moment but all I know is that I like you. I like you more than a friend should like another friend. I don't know if you feel the same way.. “ he trails off and his eyes find their way to the ground.

“I do” you reply.

This time its his turn to face your and your turn to look ahead.

Its not some grand confession of love. It cant even really be classified as one. He didn't confess anything to you. He merely spoke what his heart desired. Its all very poetic just like a butterfly shedding its cocoon. Maybe it really has shed its cocoon, and as you looked at Jimin you were reminded of butterflies. 

“I feel like we’re in a movie” you smile at him. He returns the smile, and nods.

“Its a bit angsty isn't it? This whole thing?” He wonders out loud

“No, not angsty. Just very bad timing” you chuckle.

You were both seemingly back to normal, despite all the awkwardness. He scoots closer to you  and puts his arm around your shoulder and tugs you into his chest. You lay your head on his chest and inhale deeply, feeling content.

“Let me make this more cheesy” he snickers.

“How” you ask him as you play with the scarf that had somehow dangled around his neck.

“What if I say… whenever we’re together I feel at home?” He makes a partial statement.

You break out into laughter and so does he. You laugh till your stomach hurts and your throat starts to feel dry because of the cold air.

A bright light flashes, and he covers your eyes with his hands while he closes his own.

“Picture perfect moment” Tae click his tongue as he captures the genuine moment of affection between you two in his camera.

You sort of want Tae to leave because you want just Jimin with you, but you also know that without Tae this would not have been possible.

You leave Jimin’s warm embrace, and walk towards Tae who stands with his hands shoved in his pockets. You wrap your arms around him and whisper a thank you.

“Are you sure your boyfriend will like this?” He jokes

“I am sure he won't mind” you laugh

Jimin yanks you by the arm and pulls you away from him “Okay enough”

Tae puts his hands up in surrender and back away. “Your girl” he smirks and turns around and leaves. Jimin holds you close by your waist. He sways side to side with you in his arms. You look at each other lovingly for a few moments. He can see your lips quivering because of the cold.

“Are you cold?” he asks. Your hands find their way to the lapels of his jacket and you hold them tightly with your numb fingers.

The next moment you find your lips pressed against his, and his hands roaming all over your body. The kiss is wet and sloppy, and kind of gross. Too much tongue, but with Park Jimin is it really too much? Your head starts feeling fuzzy and you smile into the kiss. His lips are warm against your own and heat spreads into your body, even in the cold frigid weather. You expect him to taste like sweat, but instead you find nothing. Its a nice surprise. He deepens the kiss by pulling you in with the help on one the hand that he places at the back of your neck. You groan and he you can feel his lips curving into a smile. You pull away for air.

His lips are swollen and red, and his cheeks are flushed pink.

“Warm enough now?” He smiles brightly at you.

You shake your head and he kisses you until your body feels like its on fire, and your heart feels content.

If you would like a Drabble please reblog this

[luobingmeis]

hawk in the raven nest, chapter fourteen

chapter summary: exy rules and regulations state that a team must have nine players to be considered eligible for games

A/N: hey guys!!! hoped you enjoyed the chapter, as always, kudos and feedback are appreciated :) and, if you guys don't mind, it would mean the world to me if you reblogged this fic on tumblr or perhaps shared it with your friends :)

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Exy Rules and Regulations stated that an Exy team must have a minimum of nine athletes. Failure to provide at least nine athletes could result in disqualification of said Exy team. The Palmetto State Foxes, however, were a unique case, because the Palmetto State Foxes were always a unique case. Last year, after the Foxes’ seniors graduated and a new recruitment didn’t work out, the Foxes were left with eight players. Fortunately for them, Kevin Day joined as an assistant coach before the season started and saved all of their asses by claiming that he had a ninth player for them, and that they would be available by November.

This was met with mixed feelings from many different people. Some believed that this new player was just a scapegoat to keep the Foxes from getting disqualified. Others said that Kevin Day, despite who he once was, should not have the power to bring in a new player, thus saving the Foxes from elimination. Others were excited to see what Exy prodigy Kevin Day could offer to the Foxes, and if it could save them.

A rumor, most likely formed by a sports gossip columnist, said the new player was a fellow Raven at one point. This was disputed by Tetsuji himself along with other teammates, them all having shown that only one athlete was taken off the Raven roster, and he was now coaching the Foxes.

(Reporters still asked for multiple copies of Tetsuji’s roster, however.)

There were also mixed opinions throughout the Ravens regarding Kevin’s new recruit. Nathaniel and Andrew trusted Kevin in what he was doing, and Jean trusted Nathaniel’s belief, but none of the three vocalized that. Then there were those like Engle and Jenkins (among others) who never got along with Kevin in the first place, and believed that no recruit could save his career, which they assumed was over. Then there were those like Reacher and Johnson who believed that Kevin should have used all of this to help the Ravens, and still feel betrayed by Kevin’s departure. And then finally, in his usual fashion, Riko Moriyama was cocky and amused. He was entertained by the idea that Kevin thought he could save the Foxes.

The Ravens were all crammed into the lounge of the Nest. The giant TV on the wall was on the channel that the Foxes game would be on. Andrew, Nathaniel, and Jean had taken over the couch off to the side with Andrew and Jean at the arms and Nathaniel in the middle. Riko was in a recliner, talking amicably with his fellow teammates and making quips about the Foxes. Nathaniel thought that he looked too friendly, and was now not only waiting for Kevin’s new recruit’s debut, but also when Riko’s facade of friendliness and camaraderie would fade.

Riko was like that, in that he acted friendly and amiable around reporters or people who agreed with him, but the moment things didn’t go his way he devolved into a violent temper tantrum, to say the least.

Nathaniel dragged his attention back to the television. The pre-game panel of reporters had come to the end of its session, so he assumed that the Foxes and their opponents had completed their warm-ups. The Foxes weren’t home for this game, so the opposing team was called out first. If Nathaniel was being honest, he didn’t care for that team. He was more concerned with the Foxes’ subs walking to the bench: Aaron Minyard and Janie Smalls.

“So it’s a striker,” Riko said, stating what was on everyone else’s mind. “Smalls was useless on that team anyway, and that’s saying something.”

Since Riko wouldn’t see him, Nathaniel rolled his eyes.

Danielle Wilds was called out first for the Foxes, followed by Boyd, Reynolds, Walker, Gordon, and then Hemmick. All that was left was the new recruit.

Then, it was like all air was sucked out of the Ravens’ lounge. Riko’s quips stopped and the soft chatter died down so fast that the silence of the team became deafening. Out of the corners of his eyes, Nathaniel first saw Jean go still, and then saw Andrew’s hand tighten on the arm of the couch.

For the Foxes’ newest member was not just any athlete.

Nathaniel didn’t hear the name announced, but he didn’t need it to be. Anyone would recognize Kevin Day walking across the court. Except this time he was not in a black and red jersey with his racket catered to his left hand, but a white an orange one with a racket in his right. Even through the television, the screams from the crowd were overwhelming.

Well, Nathaniel thought. The rumor was right about them being a former Raven.

Once Kevin arrived at his spot on the Foxes’ side of the court, Nathaniel tore his eyes away from the TV to get a look at his fellow Ravens. Most wore the same expression he did: a jaw dropped so low that it could have been unhinged, eyes that saw nothing except for a number two jersey with DAY written across it. Riko Moriyama, however, did not look like that.

Nathaniel had seen Riko look ready to murder someone, the deepest parts of hell locked in his eyes. He had seen his face cracked open in a smile that the Devil could wear. He had even seen Riko at a low point that most of them had once been at, beaten, bloody, bruised, and wondering what put them there at that exact moment. Nathaniel had seen the shock on Riko’s face when he realized that Tetsuji had kept from him his knowledge of Kevin transferring to the Foxes.

But the shock on Riko’s face now surpassed that by miles. That was a Riko sitting with his mouth pressed into a thin line. His left hand was tightened on the arm of the chair while hit right was clenched around his knee. The one tattooed on his face looked suddenly very stark against his complexion, but Nathaniel thought that Riko had actually went pale at seeing his former left-hand man making an appearance for a different team. His dark eyes stared up at the TV, flickering back and forth as if what he was seeing had to be some type of mistake.

Nathaniel knew that Riko’s shock would soon turn to anger, he expected it at this point, but for now Riko was resigned to staring dumbstruck at the TV. Nathaniel wondered if Riko was shocked because it was Kevin Day, the man he destroyed, returning to the court, or if it was because he saw the threat Kevin was posing onto him; Kevin returned, and could therefore still surpass Riko.

After all the times Nathaniel had spoken to Kevin on the phone, or talked with Andrew about their next step, Nathaniel had never considered Kevin being his own recruit. Seeing what Riko had done to him back in April, he had assumed that Kevin was done for. He thought that no athlete, no matter how strong, could come back after having his left, and dominant, hand shattered by the man he was supposed to succeed with. But Kevin Day, a man more stubborn and determined than anyone else Nathaniel knew, would be the one to make a comeback to Exy right-handed.

As the clock began its countdown to the start of the game, Nathaniel suddenly grasped what this could do for the Palmetto State Foxes, and what this could do for the rest of what he, Kevin, and Andrew had planned. Having Kevin back in the game changed everything. The game was only seconds away from starting, but Nathaniel knew now that there were no if’s, and’s, or but’s; the Foxes were going to be getting to Spring Championships. Kevin Day had to switch hands, and maybe that set him back a few paces from where he left off, but he was still miles ahead of most Exy players, considering that most Exy players weren’t coming off of the brutal yet productive training for the Edgar Allan Ravens.

The clock rang for the start of the game. Within the first two minutes, the Foxes had their first goal.

Nathaniel could never forget what it was like to play with Kevin on his line. Together, the Top Five made the Perfect Court, and they were a force to be reckoned with. To play together, and to play with Kevin, meant getting somewhere in life. But playing with Kevin and watching Kevin play from the sidelines were two different things entirely. To play with Kevin meant already knowing what he was going to do. Nathaniel knew every play and step they had planned out, because he was included in it all. To watch Kevin meant hoping that he had everything under control, and that his new team would cooperate.

And, if Nathaniel was seeing things right, the Foxes were cooperating. Perhaps it was the new addition to their line, or maybe it was the crowd’s energy, but the Foxes were working better together than Nathaniel had seen or expected. Kevin had described them as a team of infighting; a group of people who couldn’t work together long enough to have a decent game. But the team that was playing right now looked like a true NCAA Exy team.

Seth Gordon scored. Two to zero, Foxes.

Watching Kevin play, Nathaniel realized that this wasn’t a man suddenly just walking back into the game after taking seven months off. Kevin was playing right handed, and he was playing well right handed. Very well, actually. In fact, Nathaniel assumed that Kevin had been training for quite some time now. Kevin was told he needed six months to regain full movement of his left hand, and Nathaniel had a feeling he used October to his full advantage in gaining ability in his right.

Of course Kevin Day, ever the stubborn yet determined man Nathaniel knew him to be, would work his ass off to get himself a fraction closer to where he used to be, except this time playing a different hand.

The Foxes finished the first half leading with five to four. No Raven had yet to speak.

The second half was usually the time when tensions were at their highest. It was the point at which the athletes’ stamina would begin to break, and people would see who would dominate and who would be dominated. The Foxes, once again surprising everyone, came back and dominated the second half. Renee Walker would be going into her next half as goalkeeper with no switch outs, but Nathaniel had a feeling Coach Wymack prepared for this by sitting Aaron Minyard out the first half and sending in Nicky Hemmick, despite Minyard being the stronger backliner, and then sending Minyard out second half with Boyd. Walker would be defended by the two strongest backliners on the team, while the two strongest strikers continued to destroy the opponent’s goal.

Kevin was the one to make the final goal, finishing the game with a score of seven to five, Palmetto State Foxes.

It wasn’t much, but it was enough.

Nathaniel would have smiled if he wasn’t surrounded by angry and appalled teammates. Instead, he first chose to direct his attention to Jean next to him, sitting with a slack jaw and wide eyes. Then Andrew, who would have looked completely apathetic if it wasn’t for his pointer finger tapping an erratic beat on the arm of the couch. And finally, his eyes swept over to Riko, who was staring up at the TV with his jaw clenched. He held the remote in his hand, his finger hovering over the power button; he pressed it when the camera panned to a close-up of Kevin.

And then, the room was silent. Riko put the remote on the side table, and Nathaniel could see him trying to keep his cool, keyword being “trying”. His opposite hand was trembling. Riko wasn’t attempting to be calm because he didn’t want his anger getting to him; he was doing it because he had a reputation to upkeep. When Kevin was out of Exy, he was supposed to surpass him. With Kevin back in it, Riko was supposed to act like it hadn’t gotten under his skin and boiled his blood, because then it showed Kevin had won.

In Nathaniel’s opinion, Kevin already had won. Riko was livid from the moment he stepped on the court; he just hadn’t flipped any tables yet because he liked to believe that he was the bigger, better person. Also, if he had, Tetsuji would have beat him for causing harm to anyone that wasn’t his property.

Nathaniel thought it would be a good idea to start mentally preparing himself to be beat later. Riko wouldn’t let this go until he took everything out on someone he was allowed to. Ravens were already starting to disperse from the room, sensing the ever growing tension from their captain, and Nathaniel was ready to sneak out, too, when a voice finally spoke up.

“So Kevin’s doing well,” Andrew said from next to him, expressionless as always, with his eyes looking straight ahead. Everyone could feel the pressure in the room double; Andrew’s words were not just said to disappear into the air, or to break silence. They were an unwanted gift to Riko. “Seems like he’s really flourishing outside of here.”

If looks could kill, Nathaniel thought Riko would have murdered Andrew a long time ago. Riko’s shoulders were tensed, and his fists clenched on his thighs. The Ravens who were not in Riko’s circle all scurried out, and if Riko noticed he made no sign of it. He just had his eyes on Andrew, and Andrew had his eyes on the wall. Nathaniel and Jean shared a look, both debating whether or not they should try to leave, too. Things were about to get explosive, and Nathaniel didn’t want to be involved, but he couldn’t leave Andrew alone, he wouldn’t.

However, he didn’t have to worry about leaving Andrew behind to escape Riko, because Riko came to him. Because of course Riko would come to him.

Nathaniel was too focused on Andrew to initially notice what was about to happen. First his mind was on Andrew, and then the table separating Riko from the three of them was knocked over. Nathaniel had a fist pulling him up by his collar and he was brought face-to-face with Riko, who had pulled his other fist back in preparation to beat the shit out of Nathaniel.

Nathaniel braced himself for the hit that never came, due to the fact that another fist, one that was not Nathaniel’s, connected with Riko’s jaw. As a reflex Riko released Nathaniel and turned to face Andrew. Andrew shoved Nathaniel back onto the couch with Jean, who was extremely shocked, to say the least.

Before Riko could ever begin to retaliate, Andrew decked him again, this time hard enough to send him sprawling.

Nathaniel should have been horrified that this was happening, but he couldn’t help but be amazed by the force that was Andrew Minyard. Andrew had jumped to his defense before Riko could even do anything to him, and now he was willing to fight Riko so that he couldn’t get to Nathaniel.

“Get out of here,” Nathaniel said to Jean as Riko readied to push himself back up. Jean gave him a look of disapproval and Nathaniel shook his head. “Jean, I’m serious, get the fuck out of here.” After only a moment of hesitation, Jean went over the back of the couch and got himself out of the lounge.

Nathaniel then stood as Riko bounded over to Andrew, and was about to assist in beating the shit out of him, when Andrew pushed him back. “Don’t,” Andrew said in a voice that Nathaniel thought was too calm for this moment. However, when Riko stopped in front of Andrew and, instead of hitting him, clenched the collar of his shirt in his fists, Nathaniel wondered who that Don’t was really meant for.

Riko had blood trickling out of the corner of his mouth, and his jaw was already red and inflamed from the punches. Despite Nathaniel being just behind Andrew, Riko ignored him to bring Andrew close.

“You’re going to fucking regret ever stepping foot in here,” Riko growled. “I told you to know who you belong to here and to watch your fucking attitude.”

“If I’m correct, I’m your coach’s athlete,” Andrew cocked his head to the side. “Not yours.”

Riko’s jaw tightened. Nathaniel was ready for him to take a swing at Andrew, but instead he just shoved him back. Andrew slammed into Nathaniel as Riko stormed out. Andrew turned to face Nathaniel, his eyes scanning his face. “Did he do anything to you?”

Nathaniel shook his head. “No, you stepped in.”

“If he does anything to you, I’ll kill him myself,” Andrew said, his voice low. Nathaniel sucked in a breath. It was the closest thing Andrew could say to admitting that not only would he fight with Nathaniel, but fight for him. He could feel his pulse racing under his skin at the thought of having Andrew at his side. He was close enough to kiss him, but he knew he couldn’t risk it there.

“Thank you,” Nathaniel whispered, unable to make his voice anything more than quiet. Whether Nathaniel was thanking him for the protection or for being at his side, he didn’t even know. Both, perhaps.

“Ninety-four percent,” Andrew said, his voice the same volume as Nathaniel’s. “Get out of my sight.”

Nathaniel didn’t believe the cruelty laced in Andrew’s words, but he found himself listening anyway. Every door in the hall was closed, and Nathaniel assumed that some were probably locked. In their room, Jean was sitting on his own bed and stared wide-eyed at Nathaniel when he walked in.

“Holy shit,” Jean said once Nathaniel closed the door behind him.

Nathaniel thought about Kevin walking onto the court as a Fox, about the Foxes dominating the court, about Riko’s shock and anger, about Andrew jumping to protect him, and about Andrew Minyard. Nathaniel nodded. “Yeah,” he murmured. “Holy shit.”