#I think I would have an easier time if I got to write raine interacting with more people their age

[rhpsdys]

y’all ever write a character except ur like wow i know nothing about you

[kiana-kaslana-423]

hihi helu!! do u mind if I request yandere!mei and yandere!elysia (u can either make it separately or not! idm <3) wit a catgirl!reader who has an obsession wit cat themes things, esp with cute pink colors :33

I enjoy ur work a lot and it's really nice to see more people writing for hi3!! if iz okay, can I be 😽 anon? :3

Yandere! Mei, Elysia x Catgirl! Reader

☆ Catgirl! Reader that loves cat theme things and pink! ☆

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽

Yeah!! Hello 🐱 anon! After this I got to do Satyr Mei-

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽

!! Not comfy with men will block on interaction !!!

• Mei finds you being a catgirl pretty cute, she won't say it out loud but she absolutely loves having you around and you just being adorable!

• Mei is fine with your obsession with cat things and the color pink, she's dealt with Elysia before so she can deal with someone she actually loves that's obsessed with these things, she's willing to feed into this obsession so you stay with her cuz who else is going to put more than $100 for a cat themed item or something that's pink?

• Along if you try to escape, Mei is instantly going to put you in your place since she knows she has to fix this behavior instantly. She's going to get you a shock collar that will shock you every time you leave the house, funny thing is she also put a thing that it will shock you if you get on the counters so just look out for that-

• Mei like I said is willing to get you very expensive items that you like so she can win your affection that way! It's much more easier to win you're affection like that

• But back on your catself, Mei likes to scratch at the base of your ears since she realizes you like that! It's an easy way to show her affection without saying anything so she does it a lot also with your tail too! She will rub and pet it so it's not left out, Mei funnily enough likes when you wrap your tail around her arm or around any part of her body really since it's kind of calming for her!

• Mei will not get you catnip by the way, that is banned from her house

• Elysia is absolutely in love! She's practically falling because of how much she's into you-

• She loves how you're obsessed with the color pink since she's the color pink!! She is legit the embodiment of the color pink so you have to be obsessed with her too and she's cute and cuddly so that's just another bonus on top of that!! She practically has this down in the bag so she's not worried about anything-

• Elysia it's definitely already getting everything that you want! She just loves you so much she has to get it!! Along with that she's buying you the most fanciest and prettiest stuff! She has to make sure her kitty looks pretty!

• She would get cute little clip-ons that she can clip to your ears and your tail to make them look more cute! She definitely puts a lot of her attention to them! Kissing the tips of your ear and playing with the end of your tail! She's just absolutely obsessed!

• But if even with all this if you do try to escape, she's going to use the rain method! Every time it's raining she will open the door and say this is your time to leave, even sometimes pushing you out there for Split Second just to spike your anxiety of the pouring rain! She will keep doing this until you eventually think it's always raining whenever you want to escape, she's even willing to put on a video of raining noises until you eventually get it in your kitty brain that it's always raining and here is the only safe spot for you!

• But it's okay you're just her cute dumb little kitty <3

[birdiewrites78]

The Four Seasons

Hi, I'd like to start by introducing myself. My name is Elle, and I'm a freshman in college. I'm trying to get back into writing, and this is my first attempt. I have written a Hotch X OC story that is part of a larger fanfiction. Aaron reflects on his year of knowing my original character in the story. It's been a while since I've written anything, so I would appreciate any feedback. Thank You!

Word Count ~ 1500

Summer

From the first day I met her, I knew that she was everything to me. My thoughts were overtaken by the smell of her perfume and the pleasantness of her voice. She greatly impaired my judgment, and that made me angry. I thought she was a plant from Strauss, which I would have preferred; at the time, I thought it would make things easier if I could just hate her. It felt like a sick punishment for my lack of faith—to make me fall in love with someone that I in no way deserved. We clashed because of our abhorrent combination of pride; she always questioned my decisions and found every opportunity to voice her opinion. I had to quickly reconcile the idea that she got this job through her own merits and that she was expectably good at public relations. She had this quality to her that she seemed to show everyone but me, and that just made people like her. I tried most times not to look at her, because whenever I did, I reverted into a teenage boy and lost all of my senses. The only saving grace for me was that she also harbored animosity towards me, which made swallowing my feelings easier—well,  at least for a bit.

Fall

In September, we slowly started to become friends, and I apologized to her for my harsh nature. We were somewhat similar in that way—passionate people who could be seen as abrasive. Our friendship really took off when she fainted in the middle of the field. I couldn't think about anything but her safety. I realized then how precious she was to me, how I craved to make her smile, and how badly I wanted her to at the very least see me as someone she could trust. I knew I wasn't owed her love, but I can't lie and say that I didn't want it. Towards the end of the month, I learned more about her when I picked her up one day when we were called in for a case. I was made for loving you; it was played on the radio, and I found out it was one of her favorite songs. From then on, I played it when I thought of her, which was so often how Jack remembered the song. Speaking of my son, I had never seen someone value him so much in the same way she did. She had a point of buying a puzzle for him whenever we went on a case, even though she had only met him once at that point. She just had a way of valuing people that I admired, and Jack constantly talked about her. During Thanksgiving, or a Thursday dinner with friends, as she regarded it, I had seen them interact. It was the happiest I had ever seen Jack, and while part of me felt envious of their connection, a larger part of me only loved her more.

Winter

December was the most crucial month for our love story. I was injured on the case, and she became frantic in a way I had never seen before. She insisted that I rest and tend to my wounds; her touch evoked a new spark in me that I never wanted to go away. It took away the pain of my injuries. She hugged me, crying after she cleaned me up, and stroked her back, just trying to comfort me. I was forced to consider the possibility that my feelings weren't as unrequited as I thought.

After that, I selfishly did what I could to be close to her again. I messed up my tie because I knew she would fix it, and I woke up an hour early to do my hair in the style she had told me that she liked once. Morgan commented on how I was whipped, and I couldn't care less. We started to sit next to each other on the plane, and after I found out that she hated the rain, I always carried an umbrella with me. The day that I knew for sure that she loved me was the day that I had saved her life. We were searching for a spastic shooter that seemed to target at random. Until we got a tip that they were going to hit the place where she was going to give a press conference.

I had only felt a similar level of panic the day Hayley died. I rushed there with the only thought on my mind: I couldn't let this happen again. I had tackled her, shielding her from the bullets scattering around us with my body. I'll never forget what she said to me: “I never noticed; your eyes had flecks of gold in the sunlight.” I was confused as to why that was her comment until I realized she thought we were going to die. It was her way of admitting she had noticed the little things about me. She touched the pieces of hair she could reach and started to smile at me, but I refused to let her die. I found us covered, started shooting back, and radioed to the others that we were under attack. Eventually, the shooter was eliminated, and I knew then that I had to tell her that I loved her.

It was at the annual holiday party when we started to date. It was a climatic night, and when I first saw her walk down the stairs all dressed up, I could swear for a few minutes that my heart stopped. The way I desired her was so dangerous. I was privy enough to hold her as we shared a dance together. I could feel her heart beating fast, and I knew she loved me. We retreated to the balcony, where we noticed it was the first snowfall we had seen for the year. She stared out over the property and confessed, She loved me. It was a night I will never forget. It was the first time she was truly vulnerable with me, and I finally learned why she hated the rain. I knew I couldn't help but love her forever, and I would do anything to make her feel comfortable with me.

Spring

We celebrated all of the major holidays together: Christmas, her birthday, which happened to be New Year's Day, and Valentine's Day. I was able to see her feel comfortable enough to love me, and after everything she had been through, I never wanted her to feel any pain. Spring was her favorite month, so after taking Jack to school once a week, I would bring her tulips because I knew how much she loved them. We had to hide our love from the team and especially Strauss, and while I wouldn't change a thing, it's not an ideal situation to date your employee. Well, it was hidden until May, when her life was put in danger. She walked into a standoff because she knew the man and wanted to help resolve it peacefully. The thing I loved most about her also brought me immense pain, and I understood how Hayley felt. I didn't leave her, though I proposed to her, because I realized how short life was and I didn't want to live with any regrets. To my surprise and pleasure, she said yes. It didn't feel scary, though I didn't have any worries about whether we would last or if this was the right decision because I knew it was. I wanted to show the whole world how devoted I was to her.

Summer

It was a rare day in August when I was able to sleep in. I woke up to her covering me in kisses. I could never get enough of her warmth and the sweetness of her kiss. Every morning, I wake up with a smile because I get to wake up next to her. What I wasn't expecting was what she would say next: "Let's get married." She whispered, and I was confused, so I answered, “We already are, honey." She laughed and clarified what she meant: "Let's Get Married Today.” I don't think I've ever smiled wider. She put on her mother's old wedding dress, and I put on the suit I wore to the holiday party. We made a stop before the courthouse so she could get me a wedding band. I had never seen her smile so much. I never wanted her to stop. I held her hand the entire day, and I never took my eyes off of her once; she looked so beautiful as a bride. I didn't understand how I got so lucky. After we were pronounced husband and wife, I picked her up and spun her around. I will never forget the giggle she let out in surprise. I kissed her like I would never be able to again. But I would, and I was able to kiss her forever. I don't know what brought her to me—maybe God, fate, or whatever you want to call it—but I knew that I wouldn't repeat my last mistake and I would never let her go. Well, she and our daughter are on the way.

[onlyswan]

Arttt my dearest, 🍓 anon here

I just wanted to send you a message before the new year. I'm glad I got to spend another year with you and I finally got the courage to interact with you </3. You're so kind and well-spoken and it always makes me want to be the same.

I don't think you know how much you're writing has helped me. I have days where I feel down and just want to read something that warms my heart and your page is the ONLY thing that can bring me that type of comfort. I remember this time I was rereading the in which series for hours and I think that's all I did that day😭 Let me tell you my pillow was soaked with tears.

I know you haven't had the best year, so I really hope that next will be a better year. (Jinnie is coming back, so that might make it easier♡) I firmly believe that you won't continue to have bad days because after the rain there is a rainbow and I truly hope that your rainbow will shine at its brightest!!! 🫶

Take good care of yourself art, don't forget your vitamins, take breaks from your screen so your eyes will be better >.<, and eat and sleep well! I wish you all the best this coming year and all the other coming years I wish I get to spend with you.

I love you lots <333

my sweet, sweet 🍓 anonie 🥺 you’ve been nothing but kind and warm to me and i’m so happy to be finally interacting with you! ahhhdjshrjgjf i genuinely feel like my heart would burst when i learn that someone out there is taking the precious time out of their day to read my works and it means the absolute world to me. writing them also brings me that type of comfort :") thank you so so so much for everything and for remembering about my vitamins and my eyes 🫢 hehehehe and i love you <333

[twinkskeletons]

okay first off, love you <333 and secondly, it’s gonna. well i can’t promise it’s gonna get better tomorrow or next week but it might, you never know!!! that’s the thing about us (rock bottom sue eye cide craving 20-somethings), things can’t really get much worse anyway so! the only way is up! (<- me forcing myself into optimism so i don’t kms)

what i can promise is that your life isn’t meaningless, waking up isn’t meaningless, getting up isn’t meaningless. hell, staying in bed isn’t meaningless. not in the context of your life, and the things happening around you. and if you think about the context of the universe then all of it is meaningless anyway so might as well reduce it down until you find meaning! otherwise what would be the point of art and literature and music and nature? it’s not gonna matter in the end, but it matters NOW. and so do you. bc how else are you gonna experience all that?

“inherent worth to your life” arguments never worked on me, honestly, and neither did “but the ppl whose lives you make better :(“ ones (they might for you!!!) bc literally they don’t exist really, but what did work on me is realising that kms would mean i wouldn’t get to look at stuff anymore. not read nor write nor listen to music nor rain nor poetry nor watch films and sunrises and birds nesting and the way the sky darkens and the moon. the moon! that big ass rock! illuminated by another’s light and yet the most beautiful thing to lift your eye to! im a bit of a romantic so you know. that worked on me. has been working for like, half a decade now. so you reallllllllllllly gotta find the argument that works on you.

cause there’s stuff that’s important to you, right? reduce it down to that, if you have to, for now, even if it’s one thing. love that one thing with everything you have. it’s gonna get easier to breathe. so breathe. breathe when it’s easy, and breathe extra hard when it’s hard. i believe in you!!!!!!!! “meaning” is so fucking vague anyway. who decides that shit!!! who cares!!! the most important part is that inside you there’s a beating heart whose pumping is testament to the love you feel for whatever it is. there’s meaning in that, i can definitely promise that.

this got. extraordinarily long. so im sorry for giving you the choice to read all that cause really, you don’t have to. but i hope it helps, like, just a little, to recategorize and breaaatheeeeeee. xo

waugh this is so nice thank u :’) i think my biggest problem is that im just. so alone and that will never change and can really only get worse when my entire family disowns me for being trans. only time i talk to people im not related to is when im threatening suicide on tumblr lolll and i kind of dont know how to interact with people outside of that anymore.. not sure i ever did actually my experience with the three friends i made in high school was sitting and listening to them talk to each other and never saying anything myself which. doesn’t really translate to online very well. ur right though there are at least two things i care abt my dogs and my art so i guess i just need 2 really focus on those 👍 keep making merch and planning that potential artist alley table

[hippolotamus]

Fanfic Origin Story

tagged by @blackandwhiteandrose @stereopticons @jesuisici33 Thank you, friends 🥰

What was your first fandom (reading and/or writing)?

For reading: Gilmore Girls. I was so WTF over the ending to A Year in the Life, I needed something. Schitt's Creek was the first fandom I wrote for.

What was the first story you ever wrote (even if it was never posted) and what made you decide to write it?

TBH I don't remember much of anything I wrote before AO3 and I'm not sure I want to??? So for this, I'll go with How will I know? This fic came about because I had this idea in my head that wouldn't leave me alone. It started out as looking at the lyrics of that song (how will i know?) from David's POV in regards to his relationships with Sebastien and Patrick. But then, as fics do, it took on a life of its own and became what was published.

What’s a piece of advice you would give to your younger fic-writing self?

You don't know it yet, but this is gonna be some of the best therapy you've ever experienced in your life. The things it's going to teach you - about yourself, about others - and the life experiences it's going to help you through, is going to blow your mind.

What’s an early fandom interaction that stuck with you (be it a nice comment, a friend you made, a fic that got a lot of feedback etc.)?

There are seriously soooo many moments that have made me go 'ahhhh! this is soooo cool!'. A few that stick out: 'I'm an admin for a small Discord server. I can send you an invite if that's something you're into.' / 'Let me know if you want to brainstorm. Maybe we can piece together some ideas to help both of us out?' / The first time someone took me up on my offer to come yell at me on Tumblr. It was for Warm Hellos and Our Last Goodnights and just made my day. But especially that time @patrckbrewer wrote a follow up to let the rain sing you a lullaby and made me cry.

Post a sentence or two from one of your older fics, and a sentence or two from a newer one (if you want).

I did more than 1-2 lines. Raise your hand if you're shocked.

Older Fic: He had spent the better part of three decades playing by the rules and sorting his life into neat little boxes. Only when he was willing to stop playing by his self-imposed rules did he discover everything in life that finally made sense to him. By dropping the pretenses of keeping up an image that no longer fit, he had gained everything.

Newer Fic: “I didn’t know how to put words to it – this feeling – to define what it is. I’m not sure I know any better now, either. The thing is,” Eddie continues, “when I’m with you, I’m safe. When we’re out with Chris, holding hands and just… being together, it’s ordinary in the best fucking way. The three of us being a family is easier than breathing. There’s nothing to think about, it makes sense. I don’t feel any different. I’m not any different. I’m still me and yet with my parents I’m… not me? Like I’m continually locking a piece of myself away for their benefit and holding my breath until they’re gone. Does that make sense?”

I'm behind on this, and I don't know who went, but I'm tagging @shortsighted-owl @alyxmastershipper @sarahlevys @vanillahigh00 @ajunerose @fatedbuck and anyone else who wants to play 💙

[fueledbyapplepi]

I love your writing it's so good!!! Could I have reader having a crush on the boys and giving them a kiss while they think the boys are asleep and confessing their love to them with mikey, chifuyu and the haitani brothers? Im just so soft for those boys!!!

Sleep Tight | Mikey, Chifuyu, Ran, and Rindou

- Confessing to the boys while they're (not really) asleep

genre: 🌸 fluff 🌸

warnings: minor cussing

A/N: Thank you, anon! I really got into writing this one ( ◜‿◝ )♡ Also, I honestly think I need to come up with better titles because it sounds like a word vomit to me LMAO Anyway, I hope you enjoy this!

Mikey (Sano Manjiro)

Life would be nice if you had someone by your side who felt the same way about you.

You already have Mikey by your side, making every day much easier to get by. But does he feel the same way with you?

You practically grew up together with Mikey. Being neighbors with the man, you often come by to play with them as kids- leading to a blooming friendship. Although more often, it was you watching Mikey train in his grandfather’s dojo, where he never fails to amaze you with his tricks. Sometimes, you’ll have sleepovers together with Emma and Mikey where you’ll watch movies with them. Only for Mikey to be sound asleep halfway through the movie.

Growing up, nothing has changed that much with that routine. The only thing that has changed is your growing feelings for Mikey.

You saw the ups and downs in his life. From the time he established Toman to losing Shinichiro, you were there to witness how he would build a castle from the rocks of his downfalls.

So it was no surprise that you find your heart beating much faster when he’s around.

Childish as he is, you can’t deny the fact that Mikey is charismatic, beautiful, and kind. But, you never had the chance to tell him what you feel. Because what if he never saw you the same way?

You looked at Mikey, who’s currently sitting by your side almost half asleep. His head swings from side to side as he struggles on whether he should watch the movie or not.

“Mikey, you always never get to finish our movie nights. You’re no fun.” Emma pouted at his brother as she turned off the television.

“Mhmm, not sleepy.” Mikey turned to look at you then at Emma before leaning on your shoulder. “Just a little.”

Your heart flutters from close contact. “Maybe he’s tired from one of Toman’s meetings.” You turned to look at Emma with a sorry face

Sighing, Emma stepped out of the room as she looked at you, “I’ll get us a blanket, wait here Y/N.”

Your face felt hot as you realized that you were left alone in the room with Mikey. Well, this isn’t unusual for you two but with the strong feelings you have for him, you just can’t help but blush.

You looked at Mikey, his eyelashes seemed a bit longer, making his eyes more beautiful. His lips, although chapped, pouted with the way he’s comfy with you.

“Mikey, can you stop being so pretty? It makes me want to kiss you,” you whispered, thinking that Mikey’s probably dozing off to dreamland.

Mikey opened out one of his eyes to take a peek at you. All the sleepiness vanishing from his body. Did he just hear you right? “Then kiss me, Y/N.”

“Heh? Mikey, you’re awake?” you felt embarrassment creeping into you. “Mikey...I...look, sorry. I-”

Your blabbering mouth was silenced with a peck on the lips. Mikey kissing all your worries away.

“I like you too, Y/N.” He smiled as he leaned closer to you. Your foreheads touching and nose brush against each other.

You felt like you’re on cloud nine. Is this real? Mikey likes you too?

Before you could say anything, the door opened with Emma looking at the two of you weirdly. “Hehhh, am I interrupting something?”

You and Mikey looked at Emma. An embarrassed look on both of your faces as if you were caught red-handed.

Now, there’s a lot of explaining to do.

Chifuyu Matsuno

No matter how many times you try, you always seem to lose.

But who won’t?

With Chifuyu’s angelic smile and kind eyes, your determination to admit your feelings for him always seems to waver. It’s just that your thoughts always fly out the window and anxiousness gets the best of you.

You’ve known Chifuyu for quite some time now. Baji, who’s your cousin, introduced him to you as Toman’s 1st Division Vice-Captain and most trusted partner. Of course, it was only natural for you to be wary of him. Baji might trust him, but he could be some sort of drug dealer or serial killer. Who knows?

You’re wrong though. The more time you spend with Chifuyu, the more you appreciate his presence. How can you not? He always lends you a helping hand whenever you need it. As cliche as it sounds, Chifuyu is like the knight and shining armor in your life.

And now here he is. Once again saving you from another horrible situation.

Chifuyu offered you a ride when he found you drenched from the rain in Shinagawa. Apparently, the weather wouldn’t be pleasant today but you forgot to read the weather forecast. Currently, he brought you to his home for the meantime as the rain wouldn’t be stopping until tomorrow.

“I’ll just text and let Baji-san know that you’ll be staying here.” Chifuyu handed you a blanket as he laid on his futon.

“Thank you, Chifuyu. But I swear it’s okay for me to sleep there. This is your bed anyway.” You said embarrassed.

Chifuyu yawned. Tiredness dropping from his eyes. “It’s alright, Y/N. I can’t let Baji-san’s pretty cousin sleep on the floor.” He smiled at you with a faint blush on his cheeks.

You laid on the bed silently. Blushing from his compliment. Did he just call you beautiful?

You looked at the ceiling for about a good minute before turning to Chifuyu. “Chifuyu-san, I-”

A soft sleeping figure cut you off. The light from the lamp outside reflected on his beautiful features.

You padded off your feet on the floor and sat right next to Chifuyu. Observing him, you notice that he looks prettier when he’s peaceful like this.

You hesitatingly brushed your fingers on his hair. While massaging it, you can’t help but feel overwhelmed by your emotions. “I like you, Chifuyu-san.” You smiled proudly at yourself as you finally got to admit your feelings even though he’s asleep.

However, you noticed that the sleeping figure in front of you stiffened and reddened from your statement. Eyes wide, you held a hand in your mouth.

“Chifuyu-san, are you awake?” You hoped that he wasn’t.

But apparently, he is. “I guess you caught me.” Chifuyu sat up and scratched his head as he smiled at you sheepishly. “That felt nice though.”

“I’m sorry!” You bowed your head, hair hiding your flustered state.

“I like it!” Chifuyu panicked. “I mean, no. I like it. But, I like you too, Y/N-san.”

You laughed. At the same time, feeling extremely happy from what you just had heard.

“I guess we have some explaining to do with Baji-san.” you teased him

“Mhmm. But,” he held your hand and put it into his hair. “Would you continue that?” Chifuyu smiled.

“Of course.” You smiled at him, continuing your hair massages.

Looks like you won this time.

Ran Haitani

You’re no medical expert. The only knowledge you got was based on textbooks and first aid knowledge.

Yet somehow, Ran would always come knocking on your door whenever he has cuts or injuries. Sometimes, even without one, he would come by at your place and complain that his body is painful.

And it’s one of those nights again as you hear a soft knock on the door.

Moving to Roppongi, you were warned about the Haitani brothers. How you must stay away from them because they’re just no good. However, you somehow managed to come across the elder Haitani while you were shopping at a local store when he asked you what hair dye he should use.

This little interaction moved from one way to the other and now, ever since Ran found out where you live, he always comes by to let you heal his “injuries”.

You’re not complaining though. Despite the rumors and warnings, Ran was much more different from what other people say. He may be cocky and teasing, but the beautiful man sure is nice when it comes to you.

Causing you to develop a little crush on him.

You opened the door as you welcomed Ran. “Now, what do we have for tonight?”

Ran stepped in as he walked towards the couch. Laying as if he lives around here. “I got a bump on my forehead.” He pointed out as he pouted at you.

“You have Rindou! And you call yourself notorious but you come here whining like a baby.” you rolled your eyes as you got in the kitchen getting an ice pack for the man.

“Here.” You handed out the ice pack as you stood up in front of him.

“No.” Ran rolled his eyes. “Kiss it, Y/N.” he pouted once again.

“You’re not a baby, Ran. Tch.” you sighed as you sat across him. “Take a nap here and I’ll cook for you when you wake up.”

“Now, wifey material aren’t we.” Ran teased as he closed his eyes. Holding the ice packet against his forehead.

About a good 10 minutes have passed and you never heard another bicker from Ran. As you look at him, the man seems to be sleeping like a log.

You crouched down near him. Observing his features. You must say, he’s quite beautiful and more attractive when less chaotic.

“You’re such a big baby.” Thinking that he’s asleep, you kissed the small bump on his forehead.

As you got up to prepare his late dinner, a hand clutched yours.

You felt your body freeze for a moment as you turned around and saw a bastard smiling cockily.

“Do it again, Y/N.” Ran grinned at you as he held on tighter on your hand. “I’m a big baby but your baby.”

“Let me go!.” your face was beat red as you tried to yank off your hands. Only failing as Ran grabbed your arms causing you to fall on top of him.

“I like you, Y/N” Ran hugged you tightly while you were a blushing mess on top of him. “So let's just stay like this for a while.”

And you did.

Being with Ran isn’t so bad after all.

Rindou Haitani

If there’s one thing you’re proud of, it’s the skill you have for coloring people’s hair.

You like dyeing your hair, your friend’s hair, your cousins, and to just anyone who asks for your help. So it was no surprise when Rindou asked you to help him in doing his highlights.

Of course you can’t say no. Not because he is a Haitani but because you actually like his presence. When you’re around him, everything seems more calm and peaceful.

Despite being a menace around Roppongi, you and Rindou are actually good friends. You’ve known each other when he saved your ass around a group of guys who tried to harass you. And although he was stoic to you at first, he was able to ease up to you because of your caring nature.

After all, you recognized him as Rindou Haitani and not “Ran’s younger brother”. And he appreciated you for it.

So now here you are in their living room. Currently finished in dyeing Rindou’s hair.

“And there you have it. We just have to wait for an hour or so before washing it.” You tidied all the mess up as Ran sat and observed you. “By the way, why won’t you let me dye Ran’s hair?”

He raised an eyebrow upon your question. “Because he can’t have you.” Your eyes widened from his statement. Rindou, realizing what he just said, covered it up with an excuse. “I mean, I want him to dye his own hair and let it look shit. If he wants someone to dye his hair properly, he can go to the salon.”

You laughed at his statement. Well, he can actually crack up jokes once in a while if he loosens up his strict facade. “Oh Rindou, we also need to buy an extra conditioner.”

You looked up and saw the man with closed eyes. Deciding that you don’t want to disturb his sleep, you sat quietly beside him and observed him.

Rindou is already handsome with his glasses. But you realized that he looks much cuter without one.

He just looks good in anything.

You traced the bridge of his nose as you admired his features. “You know what? I actually might have feelings for you.” you muttered softly as you smiled.

“Let’s go out on a date then.” Rindou opened his eyes as he looked at you. Your lips a few inches away from his.

“Rindou!!!” You sat up straight. “I thought you were-”

“Asleep? Well I’m not.” he smiled at you as reached out for your hand. “But I meant it Y/N. I like you, and I want us to go on a date.” Rindou looked at you, hoping for an immediate response.

He does like you. After all, you were the only person who he was able to open up to other than Ran.

“Okay.” You smiled as you brushed your thumb at the top of his hand.

Rindou caressed your cheeks. Leaning in and going for a kiss.

“Ohh. Can I join?” a teasing voice butted in. Causing you two to look at the tall man who’s leaning in the doorframe. “I mean can I join Y/N’s dye party? Just continue that later.”

“Ran, get out!” Rindou shouted as he pointed at the door to his brother.

Well, things quickly escalated with the brothers.

As well as your relationship with Rindou.

[nastybuckybarnes]

In a Heartbeat  -  Epilogue

Pairing: Fireman!Bucky X Reader

Summary: You’ve always been careful with your heart. With your condition, you don’t exactly have any other choice. The last time you let someone in, you paid the price. A price you don’t plan on paying again. Until Bucky comes in and shatters your carefully crafted world.

Warnings: Angst, Language, Minor Fluff

Word Count: 1.2K

A/n: Grande finale! Oof plz don’t kill me but it’s so cute I loved writing this series so much and low-key I’m sad it’s over but it was so fun to write. If y’all have any ideas for anything you want me to write in the future, send em my way!

Series Masterlist

~*~

The wind is crisp, biting at the exposed skin of his face, his fingers.

He doesn’t mind too much though.

The sky is gloomy, like it might rain later in the day. The clouds are a deep grey colour and there's sorrow on the wind. He can’t help but feel like it’s fitting.

“I uh, I’m not sure what to say, I guess. Bonnie said it would be good to come swing by for a little while but uh I’m not sure if she was right.” His voice is shaky and he closes his eyes, hating the silence that meets him.

“I got you flowers. Didn’t wanna get roses cause it didn’t feel right, so I got you some carnations. Nat said that they last a while too which is nice. They’re real pretty. A light yellow type. Maybe peach is a better description of the colour but-” he cuts himself off with a laugh, shaking his head.

“Here I am, trying to describe the colour of the flowers to you when I’m sure you’ve got other things you wanna hear about.”

Deep breath in, deep breath out, just like the two of you always practiced.

“She uh, she turns two in a few weeks, but you know that. I don’t know if I can do it though. Not without you.”

A cold drop of water splashes against his cheek and it’s only then that he notices the warm tears falling down his face.

“I miss you, doll. Every day it feels like it gets harder, and Bonnie says that’s normal, but I don’t know. I feel like it should get easier with time.” He huffs a breath and squeezes his eyes shut.

“Doesn’t help that Beccs is the spitting image of her mom, that’s for damn sure. But you knew that from the first moment you laid eyes on her. You were all smug about it too, said you gave her all the good genes.” He chuckles softly and shrugs his shoulders, “you were right about that.”

He stuffs his free hand into his pocket, rocking back on his heels and trying not to break down right then and there.

“She’s beautiful, (Y/n). Absolutely gorgeous. She’s stubborn, just like you. Real talkative too. I asked Steve when to expect this kinda stuff but he says each kid develops at a different speed.” He clenches his jaw tightly, trying to swallow the lump in his throat.

“I miss you so fucking much. So damn much. I wish... fuck...” He stops, wiping away the tears and leaning his head back to allow the rain to clear his thoughts.

“I wish you were here. This whole ‘parenting’ gig would be a lot easier if you were here to do it with me. I feel like I can never do it right. And Beccs needs her mom. She’s got Nat, but she needs you.” He sniffles and wipes his nose on the back of his hand.

“I’m not saying this to make you feel bad, doll, I swear. I just... I can't keep it in. I feel like a failure. I need your help.” His bottom lip trembles and he makes the split-second decision not to hide it. No, he opens the floodgates and he lets the tears fall.

“Her uh, her favourite word is still ‘mama’. Got her sayin’ ‘dada’ though. And she absolutely adores Tommy. That’s her partner in crime.” He chuckles once, thinking about how the two interact.

A fresh wave of sorrow washes over him and he drops his head, looking down at the ground and letting out a shaky breath.

“I uh, I still can’t sleep in our bed. Steve says I should try but... I can’t. I need you there and I can’t sleep without you. I stay on the couch most nights. Nat gets worried but I think I’m okay. Yeah... I think I’ll be okay.” He lets out another pained breath then shakes his head and falls to his knees, eyes squeezed shut tightly.

“I miss you. I fucking miss you so much. And some days it just hits me so damn hard that I’ll never see your smile o-or hear you laugh. You won't be there t-to see Becca on her wedding day... you won’t hold your grandchildren... you won’t be there when she graduates and we won’t grow old together. No, you won’t see me all gross and wrinkled and old and you won’t tease me when I can barely lift my own damn body. Fuck, I’d give anything to have you back. I would give absolutely anything to see you again. I miss you so much and it’s so hard to live without you.”

He puts his face in his hands, shoulders shaking with sobs as he finally lets himself break.

And break, he does.

He shatters there on that gloomy Thursday morning, heart out for the gods to see, to pick apart. He bears his goddamn soul and he cries. He sobs and he all but screams out his sorrows.

It’s agony.

Living without you has been the hardest thing he’s ever done.

He’d lose his arm ten times over if it meant he could see you again.

When you died you took a piece of him with you, and he knows he’ll never get it back.

“I love you, Doll. So damn much. To the fucking moon and back.”

He kneels there for a long time, long enough for the rain to come and go, the sun peeking through the clouds and the birds emerging from their hiding spots.

He kneels there until his tears have run dry and his heart has stopped aching, his shoulders lighter even if the bags under his eyes are heavier.

“Daddy!” He glances over his shoulder, a wet smile spreading on his face as Rebecca bounds over to him clumsily.

He opens his arms and she runs straight into them, giggling madly and pushing her hair out of her face.

“Do you wanna give mommy the flowers this time?” He asks, handing her the bouquet of carnations. She nods eagerly, sliding out of his grip and gently placing the flowers down in front of the headstone.

“Love you, mommy,” she says quietly, pressing a kiss to the polished granite.

A gentle hand pats Bucky on the shoulder, and he looks up at the source.

Nat stands over his shoulder, a sad smile on her face.

“You’ve been here for a while. Thought we should come check up on you.” He nods, pushing himself to his feet and taking a deep breath.

“I’m okay now. Therapist said I should really talk to her, not just... lay down the flowers.” Natasha nods, pulling the man into a hug.

“We all miss her, it’s okay.” Bucky huffs out a breath, trying to fight the tears but they fall anyway.

“I want one too!” Rebecca exclaims, tugging on his pant leg. He chuckles and pulls away from Nat to pick up his daughter, holding her tightly to his chest and trying with all his might to keep it together, if only for her.

“C’mon. Let’s go get ice cream. My treat,” Nat says, ruffling Becca’s hair then leading the way to her car.

Bucky follows after, pausing for a moment and glancing over his shoulder, eyes tracing over the writing carved into the stone.

(Y/n) (Y/m/n) Barnes.

Beloved Mother, Daughter, Wife, and Friend.

Always on our minds.

Forever in our hearts.

~*~

Fin

[strawberry-fields-things]

— a little guide to my dream smp gods!au

( otherwise known as: i got too invested in an au i was writing and now i created a whole universe for it 🤠 )

Technoblade — God of blood and war

Technoblade is the first descendant of the celestial bloodline, as well as one of the most troubled gods in Olympus. While started out as the perfect son, Techno quickly began to sense a rift between him and his family as his thirst for blood grew with the years. He is feared by both mortals and gods alike, and hasn’t set foot in Olympus in decades. He used to be rather close to Niki and Philza, before eventually disappearing completely from their lives — at least, that’s what other gods believe.

There are many myths surrounding the great blood god, Technoblade. Among them, one manages to stand out — the tale behind his title. It is believed that Techno abandoned Olympus willingly — but not without taking a stance and fighting. It is told that the moment the battle ceased, the moment Techno stepped out of the golden gates, rain started pouring in the mortal world. Except it wasn’t just rain.

It was blood.

Wilbur; Cantio — God of music

Wilbur holds several names in the mortal realm — Apollo, Ihy, Bragi — the most prevalent being Cantio. The reason as to why his name holds vast variations is quite simple — Wilbur, unlike other gods, has spent most of his existence dabbling between civilizations, illuminating their artists and peacefully listening to their music.

He is the second to oldest son, only falling behind Technoblade. His celestial life, however, has also been defined by dark periods of time — moments when the god of music fell into destruction and chaos. Little is known of Wilbur’s darkest times, as he has made an effort to delete it from humanity’s records. Yet even when he tries his best to forget, his brother Dream is always there to remind him.

Cantio has grown to replace Philza’s presence when he’s away for months, years, even decades. With Techno gone and Dream being a manipulative snake, the burden has fallen on Wilbur’s shoulders — whether he liked it or not.

He is most distant with Ambustio and Dream — out of self-preservation... not that he’d ever admit it. On the other hand, he’s undoubtedly closest to Tommy, who actually was the one to gift him his beloved golden lyre.

Dream — God of lies and deception

Dream is definitely one of the most cryptic gods there are, his story finding itself wrapped around mystery and secrecy. He is younger only to Techno and Wilbur, and isn’t as close to his family as the others. Although his story has been lost to time, the older gods can vaguely recall centuries ago— when rather than the god of lies, Dream was known as the god of truth. As the centuries passed, the rift between him and his celestial family grew bigger. No one can remember when exactly he began wearing his infamous mask— or why. Dream’s face was another victim lost to the passage of time, only to become a distorted image in other gods’ minds.

While Dream may be known as the god of lies and deceit, he does hold close friendships and alliances, as are his relationship with his brother Ambustio (Sapnap) and his trusted friend Somnio (George). He is praised amongst mortals, not only because of the fact that they fear him greatly (rightfully so), but also because of the rumors and whispers that surround his name. Because among the few things that haven’t been lost to the years lies the knowledge that Dream can grant miracles.

Sapnap ; Ambustio — God of fire

Sapnap, otherwise known as Ambustio, is the middle child of their celestial family. He is known for his fiery temper, as well as his lack of restraint when it comes to certain aspects of his godly duties. He’s known for butting heads with Tommy — and unlike Wilbur and Tommy’s fights — they rarely ever end in agreements or apologies. Regardless, he cares for his family — even if he may hide said care underneath walls and walls of steel. Sapnap is often aligned with Dream and Somnio — three gods with a limitless capability for chaos.

Niki ; Nihachu — Goddess of the four seasons (formerly)

Niki, otherwise known as Nihachu, was the former goddess of the four seasons. Back when she resided in Olympus, she used to spend her days with Wilbur and Techno. Although no one has ever dared to say it out loud, it is widely thought among gods that Niki was Technoblade’s last friendship, his last straw — once she was gone, there was no reason for him to remain in contact with the rest of his family. Although Niki has not set foot in her former home since her banishment, her presence still remains among the marble hallways. For an instance, Wilbur’s corner in Olympus has beautiful blossoms that bloom in vines around the columns. Dream’s former balcony, on the other hand, has bushes of thorns that grow over, and over, and over again.

As for Niki’s current state, it is widely unknown — even to gods like Wilbur or even Dream. All that is known is that she roams the mortal plane, watching as life and death weave themselves into the mortality of humans.

George; Somnio — God of sleep

Somnio’s origins are rather distorted among mortals. Every tale seems to develop differently than the others — some believe he was merely a dream of Philza’s that materialized into the immortal plane, whereas others believe he was created to balance the god of deception and the god of fire. Either way, George is not related to the others through blood, though he’s come to earn the title of brother through the centuries.

Somnio is a rather enigmatic character. The myths that surround him are rather — vague, if not completely made up by mortals. Time has carried the truth with it, leaving only rumors and mortal tales. And although he’s got countless temples and celebrations in his name, George happens to be the one god that has never — ever — set foot in the mortal realm. The reason why? No one has tangible answer — not even the gods themselves.

Despite never wandering around the vast lands of the human realm, it seems like all mortals are able to recall his features to perfection. It’s strange... almost like they saw it in a dream.

Tommy ; Faeles — God of trickery and thieves

Tommy is the youngest god yet, only narrowly falling behind Tubbo. He’s reckless and mischievous— much to other gods’ irritation. He, however, is also the exception. Because while his godly title may not sound like much, he carries a heavy potential within him.

Not many things manage to surprise gods — after centuries of existing, you’d think they’ve already seen everything. Tommy was once again there to prove them wrong. When he came into existence, there was something... peculiar about him. Something almost unheard of, something rare — even among celestial beings. Tommy was born with a pair of wings. Other than Philza, god of all gods, he’s the only member of Olympus that has them. Red wings, feathers seeming as if they were carefully hand painted with the seeds of a pomegranate. He struggled greatly with them during his first decades as a god, never quite managing to fit in — the wings quickly became a reminder of who he should look up to, but would never become. With time, of course, he learned to embrace them, soon becoming a messenger of sorts among gods.

Tubbo ; Alveare — God of wildlife

Tubbo is a god particularly praised by mortals, often being portrayed as a deity of nature. He’s grown to become symbol of peace and youth among humans, and has several festivities celebrated in his name. When it comes to myths and tales about him, the most prevalent tend to be ones that associate him with Nihachu, granting them a stringer sibling bond through a sort of mentor-mentee relationship. Tubbo is mostly associated with Tommy, as his rather passive nature tends to become more chaotic whenever they’re around each other.

Ranboo ; Praetereo — Demigod of memories

There is little to nothing known about Ranboo — not due to some expertly hidden truths, but rather because of his recent arrival to the celestial realm. Ranboo is the youngest of all the gods that inhabit Olympus, having recently found out about his celestial heritage. Although there are a few villages in the north that hold temples in Ranboo’s name, his name is merely an echo among men and myths.

Ranboo mostly keeps to himself, with the exception of his friendship with both Tommy and Tubbo. They’ve undoubtedly made his transition into this new life of his much swifter and easier on him. Had they not been there for him... he’s not sure how he would’ve handled it. After all, he used to be a mere blacksmith in a small village at the edge of a map — a life where gods seemed so powerful, so angelic, so... distant.

BONUS:

Philza — God of all gods

Philza is basically the father to most gods, and even to those he may not be related through blood, he still treats them as children of his own. While he’s kind and nurturing, he also tends to be rather distant — not by choice, but due to his status as a celestial being and the duties that come with it.

Mumza — Goddess of life and death

Not much is known about Mumza, other than she’s the mother of most gods that reside in Olympus. She’s thought to be the only god that doesn’t live with the others, and rather spends her days roaming the earth, guiding mortal souls into the afterlife. Not many gods get the chance to interact with her — but those that do, however, often describe her as a caring yet determined deity, always carrying the love she feels towards her family with her.

(yes i know it’s a really shitty family chart thing but i’m a writer not a graphic designer 🥲)

so basically: techno, wilbur, and dream are the eldest. niki and sapnap are the middle kids. tommy and tubbo are the youngest. ranboo is a demigod (who’s his godly parent, you ask? uh-). as for george he just... is.

[dxrkdreamer]

Since you mostly write about Dabi in MHA. I was thinking if you could just for a change do a Tsuyu Asui x Elementalist Quirk! Male reader, concerning the reader’s family, the reader is Endeavor’s and Rei’s nephew, Shoto’s and his siblings cousin, reader’s father is Endeavor’s older brother and reader’s mother is Rei’s younger sister

Tsuyu Asui x Male Reader

WC: 700

(A/N: I hope I didn't do too bad on this, it was my first time writing a male reader so it might be a little shaky. But I hope you like it!)

It wasn't common for people to go out in the rain. True to that you got strange looks from people in their cars or in their homes. Watching you as you made your way through the stormy weather. The rain left you untouched as you bent it to your will, leaving you and your clothes dry.

You enjoyed this weather. It was as if the earth cried with you, the clouds breaking down in loud thunder and lightening. Similar to the storm in your heart. The rage in your body.

It wasn't uncommon for people to have family issues per say. Although your family and extended family seemed to take the crown for it. Always boasting about their perfect yet taboo creations. Always fighting about who was better, you or Shoto.

It left for very awkward and strained interactions between you and your cousins.

You made your way towards a pond, the smell of wet earth and rain water filled your nose as you neared it. Even with all the rage around it, it seemed the small body of water remained calm. Serene in the mess of the world.

Your eyes closed momentarily as you breathed in the scent, calming your nerves as your mind played flashbacks of earlier this morning. Your family was having breakfast with your cousins, but as usual the heavy and gut twisting tension ruined the meal. Followed by Endeavor challenging you to battle it out with Shoto.

Although the half-hot half-cold boy sent you an apologetic glance, it wasn't enough to stop you from storming out of the house in anger. Leading you to your present situation.

Activating your quirk a little more, you used wind and heat to dry off a patch of wet grass. Taking a seat on the dried grass, you watched the scenery. Occasionally using your quirk to manipulate the water into chaotic waves.

"I got your text, what happened (Y/N)?" Her voice instantly calming the storm in your mind.

Your eyes met with Tsu. She was dressed casually, and her hair done up in a bun.

Shurgging you responded to her question, easing the worry that painted her face "was having breakfast with my cousins and uncle".

Tsu was a smart girl, she could sense the heavy awkwardness between you and Shoto back in UA. She was also a blunt girl so she asked about it once, leading you to confide in her about the unnecessary rivalry. She was also a kind girl, so she listened carefully and told you she would be there when you needed it.

"mind if I sit beside you?" She asked, as you nodded she took a seat on the grass you had dried up. She watched the waves you had created using your quirk crash against one another, obvious that you were biting back your tongue and releasing your anger towards the water. "You and Todoroki are grown ups now, you don't have to let your parents control you, or have them challenge you two against each other."

It was true. You could do that. But it wasn't that easy.

"you decide how much you want things to get to you" she continued "if a relationship with your cousins is what you want then persue it, it might even make it easier to ignore your Father and Endeavours' bickering" she thoughtfully said, interlacing one of her soft hands with yours. Her warm skin lovingly blanketed yours, reminded you that you weren't merely a product of someone's taboo goals, but a human who had a heart and love to give to the world.

"I'm sure my cousins want it too, but it's just awkward trying to talk to them now"

"It'll take some effort but it's something that's worth it in the end" she replied, resting her head atop yours. She watched as your waves slowly relaxed, now just mere ripples, indicating your anger dissipating.

"Thanks Tsu" you whispered, closing your eyes. Her presence and closeness relaxed you further. It made you feel stronger, like you could conquer all the difficulties life would throw at you.

"It's what I'm here for (Y/N)".

[sirthisisa-wendys]

The Sacrifice Part 3: Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader

synopsis: everything is just out of reach.

wc: 1.7k

tw: none (semi-smut will be coming soon! I just wanted a soft moment for our little protagonist who has been through so much)

masterlist

You have until sundown.

Without Geto or Gojo around, things are quiet. No one comes to visit. It’s just you, Clymentestra, Helen, Serena, Danai, and Ariadne wandering around or making small talk in the alcoves of the Temple, while you wait for the sun to sink below the sky and bring you immortality. The Temple... That’s what you decided to call it. Cly called it something like “The Everlasting Residence of His Holiness, Geto Suguru, The Dragon God of blah blah blah...”, but saying “the Temple” was much easier for you and your brain to handle.

You discovered the following interesting rooms in your snooping session earlier: a set of bathrooms that were exactly identical to each other on opposite ends of a hallway, a room filled to the brim with books that you couldn’t read, a locked door that lead to a dungeon (you suspected), and another room filled with portraits of beings you didn’t know. Well, except Megumi. Megumi was in there, looking just like he did when you met him the day before. Boring.

Now, you’re just waiting on someone to come and find you to tell you that Geto is back, or that lunch is ready. Whichever comes first. But as you wait, thoughts of your impending transfer from mortal to immortal cloud your mind. Would every day be like this? Gossip with the others, wait for Geto to command you around, then sleep?

Is that what eternal life held for you?

Your train of thought is carried away on the wind when you see something blue and green winding its way down from the sky and into the field in front of the temple, followed by a white dragon.

Gojo… and…? You consider running down to the field to greet them, but your feet won’t move. Clymenestra doesn’t come to fetch you, so it’s not an urgent matter, you assume. Or she’s keeping you hidden, your mind whispers, and you remember the interaction from the day before:

“Don’t go blabbing your mouth to your stupid father, either. Geto would prefer to keep her under wraps for now.”

Did this have anything to do with your lack of immortality? And why is Geto so hell-bent on you becoming immortal, anyway? You ponder upon all of this as you toss open the doors to your chambers and walk down the left hallway, towards the dining hall. On the way there, you pass the locked door again, and for a moment, you press your ear to the wood to see if you can hear anything inside.

Nothing.

You straighten up, then enter the dining hall moments later, coming face to face with Gojo, who is sitting across from a pink-haired youth. “Oh,” Gojo stands, and smiles tightly, his eyes darting to the doors behind you. “Wrong room, darling. The kitchen is back there,” he prods, pushing you out of the dining room quickly and into the corridor to the kitchen, the youth’s eyes following you.

“Gojo, I have a ques--”

“Can it wait? Listen, you’re not supposed to be out of your rooms right now. And where the hell is Cly?” he hisses, looking about with a raised brow.

“Who is that in the dining room?”

“It doesn’t matter right now,” Gojo retorts tersely, removing his hand from your arm. “You need to stay in your rooms until Geto comes back. If he knows Yuji saw you, he’d be--”

“Can you at least tell me why Geto wants me to become immortal so badly?”

“No!” Gojo yells, staring at you intensely. “It’s enough that Megumi knows about you. Just do as I say or both of our asses will get hung out to dry, got it?” You shrink away from the angry man and brush past him to go back to your rooms immediately. When you sit on your bed and examine your bruised arm, you wonder why everyone is so secretive. It’s possible that you would glean more information upon your turn from human into immortal, but you can’t wait that long.

Or at least, you don’t want to.

But you’re forced to.

Lunch doesn’t come for another three hours, and by that time, you’ve lost any semblance of an appetite. So when Serena sits the offerings down in front of you, you just turn away and watch the sea tide roll in and out, like the thoughts rolling in and out of your mind.

“Where’s Cly?” you ask, and Selene inhales deeply.

“She’s away. The God of Death has called upon her.” You spin around in your seat, frowning deeply.

“She’s dying?”

“No,” Serena wipes her shaking green hands on her dress, and looks away from you. “His Omnipresence calls upon her from time to time for… entertainment.” By the looks of Serena’s expression, you don’t want to know what she means by that word, nor do you want to ask any further questions.

“Why does Geto allow this?” you whisper, but Serena bites her lip.

“He doesn’t know.” That’s all you need to hear. You turn back around, feeling your emotions stir inside of your stomach. “You should eat something before the ceremony,” she adds, but you shake your head.

“I’m not hungry.”

You fall asleep in that chair, only awakening when you’re lightly tapped on the shoulder by someone behind you. When you look up, you meet the soft eyes of Clymenestra, and you wonder how she’s doing before releasing she’s holding a red and gold robe in her hands.

“Get dressed and meet me in the hallway,” she whispers in the semi-darkness. You take the garment and she leaves the room silently, allowing you to disrobe in private. Once you’re redressed, you exit your room and meet Cly in the hallway.

As you follow her to an unknown destination, your heart pounds wildly in your chest, and you can feel nervousness gnawing away at your resolve. Could you back out of this? Or was it too late? All answers pointed to “too late” as your feet make contact with the warm sand of the beach behind the Temple. There, gathered in the sand, are Geto, Gojo, and the other four women.

Geto is half-clothed and holding a piece of parchment paper - only his lower body is covered in solid black kun pants, but his chest is covered in black swirls and symbols that you can’t decipher. Gojo is dressed similarly, his chest smeared in silver paint, and you wonder what everything stands for. But your curiosity is short-lived when your back is to the sea and Cly is standing behind Gojo, her eyes trained on you.

“Y/n, you were brought to my realm as a sacrifice, but you have accepted my offering of eternal life,” Geto begins, holding up the parchment and reading from it slowly. “As Dragon God and head of all things in this realm, I bequeath this gift to you.” He then hands you the parchment paper, and you accept it tentatively, wondering what to do next.

“Read it,” Gojo coughs, and your mouth dries up. When you look to Cly for help, she presses her lips together and nods at you, encouraging you to go on.

But you can’t.

“I can’t read,” you croak softly, but it’s too soft, as evidenced by Geto’s confused face.

“I’m sorry. Say that again, y/n.”

“I…” You inhale shakily. “I can’t read.” Everyone’s face goes from confusion to understanding, then trepidation.

“You… can’t read?” Gojo murmurs and Geto blinks in shock.

“Then she can’t…” Cly whispers back.

“The ceremony will be postponed,” Geto announces and takes the parchment from you. “We will have to teach you how to read first.”

_____________________________________________________________

Shame accompanies you as you sit on your bed and watch the others eat. Your body, however, wants to close in on itself and disappear. Food is the last thing on your mind right now.

“My cousin never learned how to read,” Ariadne mentions, pulling her fish apart, and other women echo her sentiments. You know they’re trying to be kind, but it doesn’t achieve the effect they desire at all. It just makes you feel even dumber than before.

Your door swings open a moment later, and Cly walks in, followed by Geto.

“Ladies, His Holiness is requesting the room.” The other women vanish in a mess of giggles and murmurs, leaving you and Geto alone as Clymenestra closes the doors. Geto strolls about in your room for what feels like ages until he stops in front of you in the bed.

“I did not know you couldn’t read.”

“No one does, your Holiness,” you reply, looking to your hands in your lap.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” he offers and holds up a book in his right hand. You watch him approach the bed carefully, then sit on the edge, his long black locks obscuring his facial features as he flips through the tome. “I’ll start coming by every evening to help you learn. Clymenestra has offered to help you learn how to write during the day. That way, you’re learning both at the same time.”

“Your Holiness, you are too ki--” Geto places his hand on your leg, looking up at you with his bottomless onyx eyes. You’re stunned into silence by his look - which isn’t one of pity. It’s one of compassion and kindness, and you can’t help but notice how handsome he looks in the flickering lamplight.

“Y/n, it is my duty and my honor to help you in this way. You returned something very precious to me, and I think it is only right to give you something just as timeless.”

“Did you get an answer from the Rain God?” you ask, and Geto drops his eyes.

“Yuta is displeased with your city for many reasons. He has demanded to speak with you personally about atonement, which is another reason why it is imperative for you to become immortal as soon as possible.”

“And the first reason why…?”

“I cannot answer that right now,” Geto whispers, and then opens the book again, shifting it so you could see the pages. “We should try this one. I like this story; it’s about a mermaid named Mija and a starfish named Nuri.”

You finger the gold-lettered pages carefully, feeling the smooth foil underneath your fingers, and Geto places your finger on the first word, holding your hand gently.

“Once”; the second word: “upon”; the third: “a”; the final word: “time”.

_____________________________________________________________

TAGLIST: @nostaren @sunfloweroranges @jibe-gajima @jotazinha @brownskinnedgirll @leanne-tamashi @vabybizzle @amaris9 @fuegy-fuegy @ambiguous-something @kontentious @missbonekitty @fyotituti @honouredsatoru @sandyscastle @flare-on @sashimeh @ggotgame

[ephemerlskies]

of honey and cinnamon | jjk

⇢ pairing: jungkook x reader

⇢ genre: fluff, one shot, slice of life au, enemies to lovers, musician!jungkook

⇢ word count: 14k

⇢ warnings: explicit language, mentions of terminal illness, mentions of death, themes of grief, slight plot twist, a surprising consumption of sugar, enough cheesiness to last you a lifetime

⇢ summary: what makes a three-day train ride back to your hometown anything but dull and dreadfully long? the answer, and your salvation from a boring trip home, was being stuck in the same cart as jeon jungkook for the entire ride there. unknown to you, he would turn this mundane trip into an unexpected adventure.

♪ playlist: dream a little dream of me - ella fitzgerald, departure - joe hisaishi, a journey (a dream of flight) - joe hisaishi, longing for mother's return - satoshi takebe, the sixth station - joe hisaishi, a town with an ocean view - joe hisaishi, you're in love - joe hisaishi, one summer's day - joe hisaishi ♪

a/n: this was honestly one of my favorite fics to write! ever! it was heavily inspired by studio ghibli movies hence the playlist because i recently binged a bunch of ghibli films (and i do not regret it) so, i tried to replicate the vibes from the movies i watched as best as i could!! :)) i hope you lovely readers enjoy!

They tell you love takes time. If you are patient and attentive enough, it courses through your body easier than your own blood and sinks itself in each vessel and bone and cell. Love will melt into your heart until that is all it knows. And in tales where lovers make grand gestures, like slaying the dragon and giving the moon and the stars and the sky along with the world underneath it and bestowing true love's kiss, it takes an entire story to get to the part where they are in love.

Love takes time, and in that time, there is a series of sometimes likely, and sometimes unlikely, events woven delicately within each minute that leads to the moment you know, you are in love. Traditionally, love makes itself known. It is loud and beautiful and anything but hidden within the ordinary moments used to fill in the gaps between the bigger moments. 

This story, your story, existed during the moments in between.

This train station had always emulated such an archaic ambiance. So much so that you believed you'd traveled back in time to when it was first built. Everything felt surreal, when you stepped on the train making a beeline to Cart 102, the floors felt like water; the surface tension clinging just strong enough to keep you afloat not without the occasional toss and turn. You swore it was just the rusted tracks that jostled you, but a part of you knew it was the water.

"Single rider?" The attendant stood at your cart's checkpoint, hand extended and waiting for your ticket.

"Yes, here." You handed him the paper, along with your baggage but kept the book for future entertainment and the pillow because you could tell the seats were no softer than wood.

"The train is fully occupied, so someone will be sharing your cart."

Perfect. If the world wants to do you a favor, just this once, then you hope that it sends you a quiet passenger. One that exchanges the customary 'hello' and 'goodbye' which is the extent of your interaction with them because you were tired in a way that sunk you into your zone of unsociability and on your way back home for the worst possible reason.

And the world did, in fact, do you a favor. It delivered Jungkook to Cart 102. But it just was not the favor you expected.

At first, you believed him to tick all your requirements for the ideal travel companion. Perfectly manicured company with a clear sense of boundaries. For one, he entered with a wall of silence that not only kept a greeting gated in but even the slightest acknowledgment that you were seated right across from him. It was so natural for him to ignore you that you had to glance down at your hand to check if you really were invisible.

He took his seat, stared out of the frost dusted window that reflected the sliding door that separated you and this man from the rest of the train and the world, and sighed. For a moment, he just stared and you thought it would get easier from here. But then he turned to you, and smiled.

"Hi, I'm Jungkook." It was a full smile, one that showed nearly every tooth, which reminded you of a rabbit. That paid enough respect for the previous shouldered entrance, and at first it was cute. Then, it made you feel guilty.

It was a smile you couldn't afford to return at the moment, so instead, you offered back a slightly upturned lip and a cordial nod.

"___." His hands looked strong like they had handled an array of heavy things and had the calluses to prove it. The way he sat made you feel a spark of something.

It was only a few seconds later when you realized that something was an unbridled annoyance. His legs were spread out, having you picturing the times he'd monopolize the space on a crowded bus. Jungkook was probably the type of man who was born with an entitlement that carried through to every part of his life, including the way he sat down on trains and pissed the living hell off of you.

"Like what you see?" Now you were pissed off for two reasons. The way he sat and the fact that you just got caught staring at him; his lap to be specific.

Soon, the two reasons doubled when your eyes returned to the smile on his face that didn't seem to have gone away. He was proud to catch you in the act, and most likely assumed your staring was due to an attraction so gripping that you couldn't help yourself but to stare at his crotch of all things.

"No, I was just..." Your words caught in your throat, because you weren't about to explain why his spread position on the seat had drawn an irritation from you thicker than the blood pulsing loudly through your body. You didn't want him to know you cared enough to be irritated in the first place, even if that meant letting him believe your staring was a form of unspoken flattery. "No."

"Okay, whatever you say, ___." It was the sarcasm this time, and the way he said your name that pissed you off. There was a seed inside you, ready to bury in your gut and grow just enough for you to rip his tongue from his mouth so he'd never have to say your name again.

"You'd think you didn't want to make the person you're about to spend three days on a train with angry, but maybe you're just that dumb." Insulting him gave you instant relief from the headache you knew was about to assume your forehead.

"Damn. Guess you're not the type to take a joke." Jungkook revealed his teeth one by one again, but you didn't describe it as a smile. A smile is something you thought to be beautiful, a physical expression of joy. No, what his face possessed was something sadistic. You were sure of it.

The way he carried himself and voiced his thoughts were more concentrated than arrogance. There was not a word in any language that could properly describe Jungkook. Nor was there a feeling that could render yours into something palpable. And the world had sealed you inside this cell marked Cart 102 with the person who was grainy and slick like quicksand, and just as deadly because you were sinking into him and every feeling he had provoked within the ten minutes you'd known him.

Jungkook was the first person you hated. Beyond every rude customer, every demanding boss, every high school bully, every cut tie, there was Jungkook who wore that heavy medallion of hatred around his neck like he was proud of it.

In all honesty, you thought he should wear it. He earned it. Everyone should know that you hated Jungkook and that it only took him a record-breaking ten minutes to attain the once unattained title.

You began to read your book, however 'read' didn't accurately describe what you were doing, which was staring blankly through the same words while collecting more reasons why you hated this man. It became an obsession of yours in a few short moments, because now you didn't just hate the way he sat and spoke and smiled. You hated how his breathing was somehow louder than the wheels grinding against the metal tracks or how whenever another train would pass by, he'd bring his face so close to the window you could see the warmth of his breath cling onto the glass and form a small, foggy patch.

You especially hated that you could quite literally feel his eyes on you, blistering your skin like the way a magnifying glass would redirect the sun's rays onto a target, which just so happened to be your face. Jungkook was unrelenting; as if he were trying to sear your skin with a permanent brand of his eyes.

Between the rhythmic flipping of the pages that you weren't reading, you were compelled to reprimand him for the staring. Maybe throwing his own words back into his face about 'liking what you see' would do your own vengeance justice. But that might indicate you were thinking of what he said to you this whole time.

"The weather looks so cold. It's practically raining." You moved only your eyes up from your book to study him.

He was looking out the window again, eyes chasing each speck of mist preluding the raindrops that were surely going to fall. It always rained at night.

"Looks like another thunderstorm." You packaged up the gasp that was about to burst from your chest.

For reasons you'd rather not share with a complete stranger you were hellbent on hating, you were terrified of thunder. Not lightning, but the loud crash that followed it. It was the last thing you wanted to experience while bottled up in a train with Jungkook.

"Excuse me." Your abrupt stance interrupted Jungkook's rain watching.

"Hey, where are you going?"

"None of your business." The slam of the sliding door echoed the anger you didn't express before as it snapped shut, fractionating the air you once shared with Jungkook.

You took a deep breath, the air outside felt cooler. The attendant was loyal to his assigned post, which was convenient for you.

"Sir, is there any way I can switch carts?"

"No, full train. And your ticket says Cart 102, so that's where you were meant to be." His eyes were sheltered by his hat, so there was no chance of pleading with your eyes if you couldn't even see his.

"Fine." It was a long shot, one that you didn't have the aim or trajectory for. You suppose he was right. Cart 102 was where you belonged for now. You just couldn't accept that Jungkook also belonged there with you.

Inside, the warm yellow light was beckoning you back in. Through the door, the brightness glimmered out until it was consumed by the dark hall where you stood. Jungkook was looking out of the window again with a rising and falling chest; you could hear his breathing even from behind the door or at least, you could imagine how it would sound.

"If we're going to share a cart, we could at least be friends." Jungkook's suggestion made him too human, too real for you to hate. You wanted to cling on to the idea that he was a horrible person, harboring more vices than the devil himself. But his voice was friendly sometimes, and his smile looked loving, occasionally, when he presented it to you.

"I don't see why we can't just be silent for the rest of the ride."

"Why are you going back home?" For a second, you were shocked enough to forget you were supposed to hate him. His gaze was calm and carried none of the worries yours had. You wondered, just for a second, about all the others who were on the receiving end of his gaze, and if they felt the way you felt when he looked at you. That look that distinguished him from anyone you had ever met.

You didn't want him to be right, because you didn't want the 'why' to be real. The tragedy, the only thing demanding enough to peel you away from your life away from home, should not have been the 'why' that put you on this train. But it was, and it made you angrier than he did.

"How do you know I'm going home?" You injected each word with a sharpness that you hoped would sting Jungkook.

"Well, are you going home?"

"Yes... are you?"

"No, just visiting." His eyes returned to the window, like a refrain in a poem. Always returning to look somewhere out into the beyond.

"Well, you should count yourself lucky." And you returned back to your refrain, pretending to read just so you wouldn't get caught staring at him and listing more reasons you hated Jungkook because that was easier than thinking of what was really bothering you.

"Lucky. Huh." You wanted to know what was so captivating on the other side of the window. What could have possibly supplied his eyes with something that was more interesting than the inside of this train? "Why are you going back home?"

"You already asked that."

"And you didn't answer me." Perhaps it was the stars, and he was tracking them in his mental inventory, examining until they were replicated along his memory the same way they were plotted across the sky. "Why are you going back home?"

"My mom. She's dying." Stars seemed to be a beautiful thing to keep your eyes occupied in a way your mind couldn't be, but you couldn't see past the thick fog and lack of light. "She's sick."

"I'm sorry to hear." His sincerity worked against all the animosity you'd cultivated for him.

How could he see the stars? You were going to ask, but you didn't want him to know what lied beyond the small beacon of light surrounding the train was lost to you, or rather you lost them. You wanted to hate him, so you didn't ask.

"I knew something bad must have happened to get someone like you to come home." That comment certainly suffocated any benefit of the doubt you were going to bestow upon him. Jungkook was arrogant and entitled, and in your most recent discovery, presumptuous and judgmental. Everything wrong with this world. No amount of dashing smiles and considerate questions could change that. You had to remember, you hated this man

"How dare you! How- How dare you assume something so rude!" The cloth of your pillowcase had almost worn through from how tight your fists were gripping them. You felt the fire burning through your nerves, soon about to combust and set Cart 102 ablaze. "I hate you."

It was two in the morning, or at least those were the numbers shining from your watch. The window offered the same pitch blackness that frustrated you, so you decided to give your legs some employment from sitting.

The hall of the train was nearly as dark as the outside; the overhead lights once drizzling down a soft glow were turned off. You wandered down the stretch of the medium but the further you walked, the thinner the walkway felt. Soon, the walls on either side of you were pressed against your shoulders so snugly, you had to turn your body to squeeze through.

"Having trouble?" You knew that voice; you hated that familiar inflections and conceit planted in each word he spoke.

"Can't you see I'm trying to walk?" Squinting proved to be obsolete while trying to see whatever destination was in the distance. "Why is everything so dark?"

"Because, you're not trying." If you could turn around, if these walls weren't beginning to smother your body to immobilization, then you would have run over to him and slapped the smile right off of his face. Because you were trying, you were trying to see this whole time but the dark had infested everywhere.

Unfortunately for you, the walls were connecting closer and closer, as if trying to move through you so they could reach each other and close altogether. But where would that leave you? When the gap was stitched shut, where would you be?

The walls were softer than you thought, but still forceful enough to steal all the air from your lungs leaving you a panicked mess lodged between these unkind walls. And the pressure wasn't enough to kill you, but it was just enough to leave you stuck and miserable.

"Jungkook, help me, I can't..."

Day One

Your dream was vivid enough to mislead you into thinking it was real. It wasn't until your eyes fluttered open, and consciousness spilled into your mind like a gentle breeze that you realized the nightmare was over. The window allowed a soft light into Cart 102, making you more thankful for the day than you had ever been in your entire life. You lifted your head from your pillow placed on the seat that you didn't recall placing there, and now that you think of it, you didn't remember falling asleep either.

You especially didn't remember covering yourself with this wool coat that smelled like the air after a bonfire had just finished browning marshmallows and dissolving wood.

"Someone's finally awake." Then it all came back to you. You wondered why everything felt so tranquil. It was a shame you couldn't enjoy the peace before the omen of annoyance, your special nickname for Jungkook, had returned.

"What time is it?" Your eyes were blinking away the sleep, and when that failed, your hands began to rub them until they were able to prop open fully.

"Eight-thirty. Here." He set down a Styrofoam cup of something hot enough for steam to escape through the open space of the lid. It smelled sweeter than coffee.

"What is it?" Your question came after you had already picked it up to furnish your hands with warmth and your nose with the delectable aroma leaking from this cup.

Jungkook’s smile was hidden behind his cup, already half empty, withholding an answer from you because he wanted to see if you would try it before you knew what it was.

"Don't worry, it's not poison." You figured it could be counted as retribution in the form of a nice pick-me-up for all the irritation he'd caused you, not to mention the fact that even in your dreams, he couldn't seem to leave you alone. No, Jungkook's presence was something that would slip through the realm of your sleep, the only place you thought you could escape him.

You sipped slowly, and the drink inside the cup made a quick and favorable acquaintance with your tongue. The contents were something you'd be able to identify separately, but when combined, they were delicious and elusive all at once.

"Wow, this is great!" The smile escaped faster than a spilled cup of water, and before you could clean the messy evidence of your gratitude, Jungkook returned the same smile, but his wasn't a spill; his smiles were never an accident, and you could almost resent him for it.

Almost.

"You like it, huh? Didn't take you to be a fan of sweet things." Both pairs of eyes were taken by the scenery just on the other side of the window decorated with streaks of the fallen dew drops.

His pride was untamed, and you assumed it was because Jungkook never took any action to dilute his own conceit. You liked to imagine how often Jungkook could arm himself with that smile, that laugh, which you were not too blind in your own despise to admit were both conventionally attractive assets of his, and everyone in a ten foot radius would fall into his hands. The world seemed to rest in his hands, and all he had to do was smile.

Not you, though. You were certain you had polished yourself with enough perspective so you wouldn’t be foolish enough to let something as shallow as a charming smile fracture your walls. Though, it was increasingly frustrating, verging on the point of catastrophe, how difficult it was to convince yourself of this and to ignore the image of his smile, sneaking its way to the forefront of your thoughts after brushing it off seconds before.

It was overcast, and the grey from the sky had permeated along the air below, yet it didn't puncture the vibrancy of the ever-extending grassy plains. They seemed to continue on forever, as if you walked out to the horizon it would take an eternity to find the end of the green landscape. The wind acted as music to which each blade of grass had been dancing an instinctive choreography.

And every so often, a patch of flowers would appear, perform its part, then disappear just as quickly.

For a moment, you wondered what Jungkook thought of the small bits of the world this window was displaying. Did he think it was just as beautiful as you did?

"It's honey, cinnamon, and milk. My mom used to make it for me when I was a kid." Though the view was timeless, you finally broke your gaze to look at Jungkook.

It was hard to imagine this man, the harbinger of almost every ounce of anger you have ever felt in your life, as a child who would drink milk with honey and cinnamon made by his mother. But then again Jungkook's face began to change, or at least the way you saw it morphed into something entirely different.

His bright eyes didn't look like they could be from this world. Not when they seemed to hold everything in his line of vision within them so warmly that it could spread magic over everything around him; like a fairy tale, but this magic rested in the two sockets of his eyes. Something so enigmatic made you want to snap at him just so he would look at you instead, and hold you in his eyes. As though to be held by his eyes would fix all your problems.

"Hm." You looked down at the cup, trying to savor each sip however ultimately failing since the honey melted in with the milk and perfectly heightened each flavor.

Without thinking, you wrapped the coffee-colored coat tighter around your body. It was blissful, sipping a cup of delight inside Cart 102, protected from the prickly wind of the winter while still being vended a view of its beauty. This train ride was almost perfect, if not for the (slightly less) bothersome burden that sat across from you.

"Looks good on you." He didn't have to specify he was referring to his jacket that was giving you comfort.

"Oh, sorry. I didn't-"

"Nah, keep it. You looked cold when you were asleep. You were shivering so much it basically sounded like you were begging for my jacket." Jungkook laughed softly.

Maybe two hours ago you would have been brimming with enough rage to rip his jacket off of you and throw it in his face because it sure sounded like he was pitying you or guilting you into a 'thank you' that you were too petty to relinquish. But now, in the morning that tamed you, stomach digesting a tasty drink given by none other than Jungkook, you let it slide.

Just this once, you thought.

"Well, that was very kind of you. And thank you for the drink, but I don't need some stranger doing me any favors."

"Wow, you sure are stubborn!" He laughed again, even though you had been nothing but uninviting of his advances, he just laughed.

"Am not." You muttered.

"Whatever you say." Just this once, you let him have the last word. Just this once.

One emptied cup of Jungkook's special later and you were energized enough to read, and hopefully retain the story rather than flipping mindlessly through the pages while you fueled your attention with rage.

Jungkook was busying himself, putting thought to paper. The quick ticks of his pencil against the wooden table was enough to earn him a passive-aggressive sigh from you, and you hoped he was perceptive enough to get the hint.

The ticks continued, even spaced out to a consistent pace as if he was beating a drum just to anger you. Your annoyance was once again brimming over, ready to spill into another display of it that consisted of a furrowed brow, a scowl, and a slew of incoherent retorts that had been brewing in your mind.

"Can't you write any quieter?" It hadn't measured up to all the clever insults you had loaded into your verbal weaponry, but it did the job to convey your frustration which obviously hadn't been communicated through your previous sigh.

"I'm not writing, actually! I'm trying to figure out the time signature for this piece. Three-six just isn't right." The pencil once tapping out a rhythm was now tucked between his teeth, and you could tell this was a habit of his from the various other tooth-shaped indents along the end of the pencil.

"Whatever, just... do it quietly."

"Quietly? This process is anything but quiet."

"Then try your very hardest."

"I'll try. Emphasis on try."

Though your eyes had reunited with your book, your curiosity pledged allegiance to what Jungkook was writing on his paper. It took an effortful battle between your urges and your restraint to finally ask him.

"What's a time signature?"

"Kind of like a rhythmic guide. For music. I'm a composer, and I'm hoping I can get this fellowship to work with professionals all around the world!" Jungkook's response came almost immediately after your question and his answer consisted of more information than you asked for, which meant this was something he was passionate about. Either that or he just loved talking about himself. It could have easily been both.

However, from the way his eyes held the world, they seemed to hold the music etched onto his paper the tightest. Like, if he were to let go then he would lose any and all purpose to hold on to anything else.

"You make music? Like songs on the radio and stuff?"

"No, not really. Songs for movies. I want to be a film composer."

"Oh. Is that why you're traveling? To study with a professional?" You surprised yourself more than him with that question.

"No... I, um. I wish that was the reason." Before asking him what his reason was, you stopped yourself from letting yet another question slip from your mouth.

Because you were supposed to hate him. Jungkook made everything difficult, even the notion of hating him was made to be a challenge. Asking him questions, learning about him, making the person in front of you turn into something with more dimensions than two was pointless when in a couple days, you'd leave this train and never see him again. Better to go back to hating him.

It wasn't as satisfying as before. Now that you've acquired some knowledge of who he was beyond an obnoxious seat hog and arrogance asshole, the reasons to hate him were beginning to be outweighed by all the other reasons to not hate him.

So far, you learned he was a musician. A passionate up and comer who gives strangers his jacket when they look cold, and shares a drink of milk and honey and cinnamon because it reminds him of his childhood. Someone who has made biting his pencil into a habit when he was working through a thought, who would often stare out windows and saw all the stars you couldn’t; someone who was quick to try to make friends with even the most emotionally withdrawn people.

Shortly after taking more time than planned on recounting all the things you learned about Jungkook, you felt indebted to him since he only knew two things about you. 

You were stubborn and you had a sick mom. Or at least, you believed these were the only parts of yourself he picked up on. The rest were things he’d observed with an attentive eye of which you had not noticed had been studying your mannerisms in the same way you studied his. 

When you left the cart abruptly after he mentioned the thunderstorm that was somehow delayed for tonight, he was correct to assume it was because you were afraid of the storm. Now, whether it was the thunder or lightning that rattled you so viciously you had to walk off your fear was yet to be discovered. Jungkook was confident he’d figure it out.

Or, how he watched you when you were sleeping in a way he wouldn’t describe as creepy since it was endearing to see you sleep. In fact, he was doing his best to ignore you, but your muffled groans had revealed to him you were the type to have the occasional nightmare. Again, the dream itself was something he was more than interested in discovering.

And your adorably executed performance of passive aggression didn’t evade him in the way you presumed it did. He heard the sigh and understood exactly what you were attempting to accomplish with that, but decided to act like your effort to shut him up wasn’t completely transparent. Mostly because he wanted you to ask him what he was doing. 

Jungkook wasn’t ready to admit it yet, but he enjoyed the way you spoke, even if it was drenched in a thick layer of annoyance. For now, he decidedly stuck with finding innocuous ways to fall back into a conversation with you, to slowly but surely learn all that he could in this three-day train ride. 

At half-past three, lunch had been served, consumed, and digested. Jungkook’s plate, however, was just short of being completely gone. Everything had been notably ravaged by him except for the pile of walnuts he picked out of his salad at the beginning of the meal.

“Not a fan of walnuts?” You convinced yourself this question came from a place that was starting to feel queasy from the silence that was more intoxicating than the small glass of complimentary wine you downed a little too quickly. 

“Allergic. Nothing too serious, though. My throat gets itchy and sometimes I get a rash on my skin.” You made a mental note that Jungkook was allergic to walnuts, which you stored in the part of your brain that harbored knowledge that was completely useless to you yet you still reserved space for it to be memorized.

“That sucks.” 

“Yeah, but it did come in handy when I was in class and didn’t want to be. I’d tell the teacher the cafeteria food had walnuts in it and I needed to go home and get my EpiPen before I died.” The list of things you knew about Jungkook continued to lengthen, and you couldn’t specify when it happened, but you began to enjoy every detail that made the list grow. 

You wouldn’t have guessed it would take a single day for you to wish it would never stop growing. But then again, you didn’t realize this at the time.

“And that worked? Sounds like you had your luck laid out for you from the beginning.” Jungkook smiled at this, the same bunny-toothed smile from yesterday, but it felt much different to you now, as if you were one smile away from forgetting your once insistent hatred of Jungkook. 

“Yeah, I guess so. What about you? What are your allergies?”

“Other than overly friendly weirdos on trains? Nothing.” It was the strangest reaction to feel proud, of all things, when you were rewarded by his laugh. It was softer than the wind rushing against the side of the train, however his laugh outperformed every other sound in the surrounding area until it was all your ears could focus on.

“Then it seems you’re the lucky one. No allergies. Free to eat whatever you want.” His eyes parceled between the sheet music in his hands and you. Though, it was difficult to pull them back down to his work since this was the first time he had your undivided attention that was not born from annoyance or repulsion to whatever he was doing. 

“I wouldn’t go so far as to say I’m free to eat whatever. I have standards.”

“Really?” It was his not-so-discreet way of trying to capture all the pieces of you that he could, but from your slow intake of air, it seems as though you weren’t entirely finished with talking to him either.

“Cilantro. It’s absolutely disgusting. And mushrooms. I can’t stand mushrooms.”

“I love mushrooms.” Of course, you do, you thought. He didn’t have to say it, but he most likely loved cilantro as well. And you were most definitely right. 

“I suppose you love everything I hate?” Eye contact with Jungkook was more than you could handle ever since his mannerisms stopped annoying you and started intimidating you, so you found refuge in the scenery beyond the window. It never failed you during the day, but at night you would have to scavenge for something to stare at when Jungkook’s eyes were close to stealing your breath away. 

“I suppose you hate everything I love.” 

It took a careful eye to catch the subtle hints of emotion that even you were too distracted to notice. Jungkook’s eye was trained pretty well in observation of the hidden traces of even the most thoroughly subdued emotions. His eyes were so well versed in gathering the scarce evidence of emotions that it prompted him to ask his next question:

“What are you looking for?”

Now, your eyes were still averted by his, so you held on to the slowly fading daylight while you still could. But, sadly, the window was a distraction of sight, not sound, so you heard his question loud and clear and felt obligated to give him an answer. Even if your answer was pathetic.

“Just looking at the grass. It’s pretty.”

“I didn’t ask what you were looking at, I asked what you were looking for.” 

Determining what emotion you let slip through the quiver in your lip was a task Jungkook wasn’t well equipped for just yet. In all fairness, he had only known you for a short while and he still felt disappointed in himself for not being able to know what he made you feel with that question. 

“I don’t know.” You couldn’t help the stunned tone of your voice, but that was all that could fuel your words at the moment. “I guess… A distraction. It’s so beautiful out there.”

“Everything looks beautiful when you only have a small amount of time to admire it.” Whatever distraction you were looking for had certainly met your eyes and did its job since you had absolutely no clue he was staring right at you when he said that. That he was savoring the small amount of time he had to admire you.

Jungkook was right, which was a habit of his that he took unrestrained pride in; life was beautiful when you moved through it with such little time to spare. Though slamming your hand in a doorway was something you would sooner do than admitting he was right.

The fabric of time moved in a peculiar fashion when inside a train. You move so fast and yet, not at all, and it is as if there is a tear where the train moves through, and evades the grips of each minute that transports the future into the present and the present into the past. It felt this way the moment you stepped onto the train, so when you checked the time, it didn’t surprise you that it was already an hour before midnight. 

The daytime had slowly melted away, carefully, the way ice shrunk inside a glass of water until it combined with its surroundings, and the plains of grass could only exist in your memory right now. The blackness of night consumed everything beyond your window once again, though there was the occasional streetlamp that provided a glimpse of everything you couldn’t see as of now. 

What you couldn’t see was nowhere near as frightening as what you were about to hear. 

The first flash of lightning felt like a warning. It took a few seconds for the wretched boom of thunder to follow, which was the interval of time you foolishly hoped it would, just this once, fail to accompany that streak of light. That perhaps this train moved quick enough to outrun the storm.

“___? Are you okay?”

You didn’t notice your hands had immediately cupped your ears until Jungkook’s voice was filtered through as a jumble of indiscernible noises.

“Sorry, I just…” Steadying your breath was a toll that required an upfront payment of all your attention, so your previously muted voice and steady tone had gone out of the metaphorical window, along with the rest of your response.

“So it’s the thunder.” Jungkook said softly to himself. It didn’t matter since your hands were being utilized as makeshift earplugs. They seemed to deflect every sound except for the thunder that punctured through your barrier effortlessly. 

Before, Jungkook had this preconception of you. From the minute he stepped into Cart 102, he could tell you were the type to carry yourself steadily, the type that supplied their own assurance and isolated their emotions in the same way you isolated yourself. But here you were, hands clamped against your ears, eyes pressed shut and body shaking; this was a surplus of emotions you let seep through your walls. It was expressive enough for any dimwitted onlooker to know exactly what you were feeling: pure fear. 

And Jungkook had always been adept to telltale signs of what was buried beneath the obvious emotions. He could tell you wanted to be distracted. You needed help.

It was easier to stifle one sense if you stifled them all at once. If you didn’t want to see, you had to plug your ears and hold your breath. And in this case, to block out the sound, you had to shut your eyes and numb the rest of your body in the slim chance that the thunder wouldn’t penetrate through your poorly constructed firewall. 

Suddenly, you felt the space beside you sink lower which meant Jungkook had taken the liberty of invading your space at the worst possible time. It was difficult to focus on blocking out the sound when you could feel the side of his shoulder bump lightly against yours. 

“___.” You shifted towards him slowly, waiting for his explanation of why he was on your side of the cart. “Can I touch you?”

You were past your wit's end, spending the last bits of your sanity trying to calm yourself from the second crash of thunder that made your body lift from the seat for a solid two seconds. All you could do was nod, and hope he wasn’t a serial killer that was about to strangle you to death in a moment of vulnerability. 

He was working in your favor, just like when he wrapped you up in his coat and set that cup of milk in front of you, he moved in determination to comfort you. And if it weren’t for the dire circumstances, your pride would have refused the security of his arms that were carefully enveloping your body and eliminating the frigid space around you. You hadn’t realized how cold this train was until you were invited into Jungkook’s warmth. He had somehow silenced the storm, and all you had to do was let him. 

The third blast of thunder pushed you deeper in his embrace, and you wrapped your arms around him tightly like the lifejacket he was that kept you from slipping below the surface of the angry ocean currents. 

“If you couldn’t tell I-” Boom, “I hate thunder.” Your voice came out strained through the fear-induced filter lodged in your throat.

“No, actually, I couldn’t tell at all.” Nine out of ten of your thoughts were concentrated on the thunder, and that one exception was applied towards how annoyingly sarcastic Jungkook managed to be through thick and thin. It was impressive enough that he could subtract the fear even by a small fraction for you to laugh. 

“You’re so-” Boom, “You’re insufferable.”

His laugh was noticed through the gentle bounce of his chest that rocked your head more than the actual sound of it. Soon, a hand came to run through your hair and with each stroke, he somehow removed your terror layer by layer until you were afforded with indifference to the storm simply because you were lulled into a half-sleep and were now too exhausted to care about the thunder. 

“You’re okay. Everything is okay. You’re doing great. Breathe deep.” His chest smelled the same as his coat. A fire burning so brightly, sending the aromas of everything it consumed into the air.

Now your attention belonged to the warmth of his arms, and how he moved his hand through your hair with something deeper than kindness. It was selflessness because he too was scared and tired and in need of rest. Despite this, he used the last of his energy to ward off the threat of a second panic attack. 

“Thank you.” You whispered into his chest, and it seemed as though it permeated through his flesh and ribs and absorbed straight into his heart from the way he held you even tighter. 

The storm had settled, and the horrors of loud thunder were abandoned for quite some time now, but it felt too comfortable, too perfect for you to be anywhere else but here in his arms. So, what went unsaid was more than enough for him to retract any intention to return to his seat and instead hold you against his chest, where his heart would retain strength from being close to you. 

You couldn’t tell if you had already slipped into a dream when you heard him singing softly, or if the melody of Dream a Little Dream of Me was actually being crafted by his voice so beautifully and fell into perfect synchronization with the rhythmic beat of his heart. Either way, you were thankful to bear witness to a sound that reduced the idea of thunder down to something that could never hurt you again, and instead made seeing all the stars the heavens could offer possible even through the darkest nights. You felt a well of tears moisten your cheeks.

In his arms, with his voice, you could see the stars.

Back in the dimmed hallway of the train, you could make out the outline of a figure standing in the distance, waiting for you. Waiting, but about to run out of time. You saw her slowly disappear the way wind would rustle the dying leaves off a tree in autumn. Slowly her body was wilting, disappearing, and the wind only picked up speed. 

All you could think to do was run to her, your mother, the shell of a woman you had known and loved your whole life. Her frail body being stripped of flesh as easily as wind undresses a tree of its leaves until there is nothing but branch and bone.

The walls began to close again, and you knew you had to act faster. You had to push past the pressure of closing walls even if they were squeezing so tightly movement became impossible. All at once, the impossible became your burden to redesign into something possible, which was the only thing crushing your spirit more than these damn walls.

You were so close; you held your hand out and—

Day Two

Winter mornings always start the same. Your eyes began rediscovering sight before the rest of your senses flooded into function, then your stomach would get angry for digesting nothing but its own acid until you filled it. And just like yesterday, your pillow cushioned beneath your head on the seat and your body shielded from the rogue winter winds that snuck inside of your cart by the same bonfire scented coat.

“Rise and shine.” Jungkook said from behind the sheet music he was examining. He must have been stealing glances of you every five minutes or so to catch the moment you’d finally wake up.

“Time?” Part of you didn’t want to get up. Part of you, the more persuasive part, wanted to remain tucked under Jungkook’s coat and slip back into a light sleep. If it weren’t for the hot drink waiting for you on the table then you would have done just that.

“Nine. A little later than yesterday.” You sat up eventually, wrapping the coat around you, and for a moment life was comfortable on the train. So much so that you didn’t mind how your hair was in complete disarray. 

Jungkook enjoyed seeing you this way. When you had first woken up and didn’t wear the usual veil of detachment from the rest of the world. Your guard had surrendered to your sleep ridden body. He guessed very few people saw you like this, natural and raw and untouched by the pressure to be presentable, and counted himself lucky, just like you would say, to be one of those few.

“Thanks, again.” You said softly into the warm cup between sips. “How much?”

“No. It's okay.”

“But-”

“Seriously! Don’t mention it.” He was firm, but that didn’t stop the gentle smile that crept its way back onto his face. You didn’t know what to say other than the thanks you had already said, so you just kept drinking. It was still just as delicious, but today familiarity was peppered into the milk among the honey and cinnamon which gave it that much more reason to love it.

“You get up this early every day?” You asked, because you were at a loss for words but felt less comfortable without hearing his voice to accompany the brisk, quiet morning. 

“Usually I do. I like the morning. It feels like I have the world to myself before everyone else wakes up.” Charming. It was the last thing that came to mind when you would picture Jungkook. Now, however, it seemed to be the only characteristic that came to mind when you thought of him. 

Sitting in front of you, half mindedly scribbling notes onto the staff and half his attention expended on sharing the small ways he saw the world, he was just charming. As easily as he once drove a blunt edge of annoyance into your chest, he erased every bit of evidence that he could ever be anything but charming.

“Sorry to steal the morning from you. I gotta wake up sometime.” You felt entirely unpracticed in the realm of light, friendly conversations, and that was evident from the way you wanted to gag at your own response to his. What you thought was a tasteless, almost pathetic attempt at banter was, to Jungkook, another reason to enjoy the morning. 

“I’m glad it’s you that I have to share it with.” Jungkook certainly sat higher on the hierarchical scale of wit compared to you, but even that didn’t agitate you in the way it would have before. What was more shocking than that was the fact that you felt the muscles in your cheeks changing your flat lipped expression into a smile.

“Flattery gets you nowhere, Jungkook.” You responded that way only to save face. It was a habit of yours you didn’t realize you were doing until the words had already been deployed by your tongue.

“It seems to have gotten me a smile from you. Those are hard to come by.” You jerked your head quickly over to him, the same grin stained with smugness there to meet your surprised ‘o’ shaped mouth. 

He was right again. Your smiles have always been punctuated lately, but you were too busy paddling through every distraction available to even notice.

“Very funny.” Your voice was low enough for Jungkook to nearly miss it. Once the soft tone of your voice delivered to his ears, he looked away from his sheet music to mine through your face like a cavern, searching for the hidden bits of the treasure-like emotions strewn in along the subtle details. 

“What’s wrong?” It was a leap of faith, his question, a leap that sent him plummeting blindly into the depths of everything he craved to know about you. 

“That thing you said the other day.” Your expression was unreadable to the whole world. But inside the train, the whole world rested just on the other side of the window. There was no reason to come off as impassive, cold, or unconcerned, to care so much about trying not to care. “About going home.”

“Mhm?” You waited to see if he had anything to say, anything to stall what was about to escape from your lips. You knew it wouldn’t take long for your thoughts to go rogue, especially when he made you smile like that. 

“I’m angry.” He gave you a look that said ‘no shit’ without having to actually say it. It made you nervous, but still willing to go on. “You're right. I didn’t visit home ever until now. I thought I grew out of it. I thought I became someone too big to fit in a town so small and stuck in its way. But I was never too big, I don’t think I ever actually grew. Because when I got the call, after stupidly ignoring it a hundred times before, I felt like the same child. So scared of the idea of a world without their mother. So, yeah, I’m angry. I’m angry I could be arrogant and stupid enough to think I could live the rest of my life never looking back.”

Jungkook just watched you, with those eyes that held the world. His eyes were holding so much right now when they were looking at you. So much weight from a source he couldn’t define with his own intuition. So much weight, he couldn’t understand how you had been shouldering it on your own this whole time, if he couldn’t stand a few minutes holding it now. 

“Going back home.�� You scoffed. “It's not about looking back. It was never about that. I think returning to something familiar is almost just as scary as fleeing somewhere new. All your past mistakes and demons that you have to face…”

“Demons. Is that any way to talk about your mother?” It was his way, unique to Jungkook alone, to litter in a bit of lighthearted teasing even when he was supposed to be serious. As if he couldn’t stand to let the air in Cart 102 become too damp with sadness, as if his heart wouldn’t have been able to handle it.

“I made a mistake. I spent too much time away, and now the last way I’ll see her is weak and sick. That’s my demon. My mom was just unfortunate enough to be the arbiter of it.” 

Jungkook wanted to tell you that if he could, he would take all your pain away and send it back into the universe to find someone else to harbor it. Someone who deserved to feel a loss so heavy, because he knew just by looking at you that you deserved none of it. But he held his overly romantic tongue for now in regards to easing you into him smoothly. Since he had come such a long way with you, making gentle strides to win your affection, it would be greedy of him to tarnish that by saying something as outrageous as that, even if that was truly how he felt.

“Come with me. I have an idea.” It would have been easy to refuse him, to swat his hand away and never speak to him again for the rest of the train ride. But what prevails after the wear and tear of expecting the worst and knowing the painful and permanent scars it will leave you is the trust of someone who turned scowls into smiles, who held his hand out to you and waited for you to take it kindly.

Those tales they tell about feeling sparks when you make contact with your soulmate were decidedly wrong. Wrong to you, because when you touched Jungkook’s hand, you felt those sparks nestling under your skin and learning its way through the rest of your body. Wrong, because Jungkook was no soulmate of yours, just an unlikely stranger you met on a train once. 

And yet, you couldn’t help but wonder, you couldn’t help but hope he too felt these sparks that supposedly meant nothing.

Jungkook pulled you into the hallway, which was brighter than the way it looked in your dreams. At the end of the walkway, there was no ghost resembling your mother, and the walls weren’t closing in, and instead of pushing through alone, you had Jungkook holding your hand tightly, and graciously guiding you down.

“This way.” He whispered, and you mimicked the stealth in his voice through the way you muffled the sound of your feet hitting the train floor, which felt less like water and more like sand with him; soft yet solid sand.

You arrived at an unattended area of the train. The only hint of what Jungkook was up to was that grin. That grin was too playful to be a grimace, and too mischievous to be a smile. That grin that you hadn’t noticed you were looking forward to seeing, the same one you could sense you would miss when the train arrived at its destination. That when he grinned, you finally found the courage to return it. Needing no conditions or second guesses, you were just you, somehow smiling on the train that was taking you to your sick mother. And it was all because of him and his stupid, lovely grin.

“What are you doing? Are we supposed to even be here?” 

“Shh, we’ll get caught.” He began to wriggle with the door handle until it opened. 

“So we’re not supposed to be here! Jungkook, let’s go before we get kicked off!” To silence you, he simply held his hand up. You pouted your lip but did as he commanded. 

Inside the door, there was a collection of all the food meant for purchasing. Your assumption was confirmed that Jungkook had no intention of paying for the bags of pretzels and packets of cookies he was stuffing into his pockets. Hands full with quite the assortment of foods, he looked to you and raised his eyebrows.

“What?”

“Come on, put these in your pockets! Hurry.” He held the food out towards you. There was no convincing him to put all the stolen goods back, and there was no convincing yourself to not go along with his sinfully sweet plan. 

The fast-paced walk back to Cart 102 was the most exhilarating thirty-five seconds of your life. Jungkook looked all too calm, like spontaneity fell into his hands naturally or like it was a birthright, belonging to his life from the beginning. Life with Jungkook, even if the short span of time he’d claimed part of yours was fleeting, was the most excited and fearless you had ever felt. 

Jungkook and you emptied the haul of food onto the table. For a second, they went untouched only for the two of you to admire your successfully pirated goods. Then, for the first time on the train you met eyes with Jungkook and laughed.

It was the sort of laugh that exercised muscles in your abdomen you weren’t aware that you had in the first place. The kind that began at the top of a hill, and with one push it was tumbling faster and faster, growing louder and wilder. 

Jungkook was laughing too, a sound which could qualify as the only competitor to surpass the beauty of his singing. And whatever music he was scribing onto the paper would have to be beyond masterful to sound anything close to as immaculate as his laugh.

“I can’t believe we just committed grand larceny.” The words came out of your throat between fits of laughter, eyes now with an abundance of happy tears.

“Woah there, “‘grand”’ is a stretch. I like to think of it as unlawful borrowing.” The rest of the afternoon was spent with celebratory feasting of your unlawfully borrowed goods. Your favorite was the packs of chocolate mints, and Jungkook had cleverly avoided eating them when he noticed how much you liked them. 

When dawn arrived, Cart 102 settled into a comfortable silence, now consisting of you reading your book tempered by a glance out of the window every few pages and Jungkook tapping his pencil against the wooden desk while marking up every blank space on his page. To anyone else, including the likes of you, the page was nothing but a jumble of incoherent scribbles. To Jungkook, it was his next masterpiece; the best idea he made tangible on paper and hopefully soon, audible when someone agreed to commission it.

“Done!” 

His remark startled you, being that there had been no warrant for him to exclaim his progress with the music he was working on. You chuckled softly, closing your book and looking back to Jungkook.

“Done with what?” 

“This song. I know this one will sell. I just know it! It’s perfect.” Jungkook’s passion was bursting past the seams of his body. “I just wish… I wish I had more time.”

“What does that mean?” Again, all he offered was the same grin, and that was all you needed in order to know he wouldn’t be dropping any more hints on the account of your curiosity. 

“It means this train ride is ending tomorrow, and I’ll have too much on my plate to work on anything else. So this right here,” He held up the paper with the same tact one would for a pile of pure gold, “Is my last chance to get my work out there for a while.”

For reasons born from an unidentifiable place, you felt like crying. Last chance. It sounded serious. Something you weren’t ready to know and something he wasn't ready to tell. So, instead of pestering the answer out of him, you let him have his secrets. You let him have all the secrets he had somehow gotten out of you. 

And somehow, you were okay with it. Just this once.

Jungkook said he was taking a quick nap. Quick must mean something entirely different where he was from since it lasted about three hours and counting. For someone who had nothing to do but sit on a train all day, he sure was tired. It would have concerned you had it not been for witnessing how much energy he exerted into writing his music, as if each tap of his pencil required the same amount of energy as running an entire mile.

You were looking out of the window, which looked like it had been coated with tar. The departing sun left no remnants of its light and the moon must have been situated on the opposite side of the train, so it was up to the stars to illuminate your view of the world. But, outside the train was dark. Dark, and almost pitch black.

The first few specks were thought to be a hallucination that bloomed from your own wishful thinking. But soon, there were more and more twinkling lights dusting the sky and that outshined any doubt you had before. The stars were so bright and glimmering clearer than you had ever seen. Only something so beautiful, something that ingrained itself into the grooves of your brain to keep forever, could elicit the gasp that came louder than expected.

“Woah.” It jolted Jungkook awake and you would have felt bad if he weren’t already supplied with three and a half hours of extra sleep. 

“What?” His voice was hoarse from being unused for such a long interval.

“The stars! I can see them! They’re so bright, Jungkook. So bright.” The tears began to form in part from the lack of blinking and in part from how happy you were to see the stars. The same stars your mother was probably looking at and the same ceiling of glitter that loomed protectively over you and Jungkook. They were more than just constellations tonight; they were a celestial map navigating you back home and an astronomical assurance that everything would be okay. Even if the worst happened, everything would be okay.

“They are. They’ve been bright for a while. It took you long enough to notice.” Your smile was not yours to control anymore. It was a small price to pay considering you had a world full of stars to last you a lifetime.

“I guess I haven’t been trying as hard to see them as I thought I was.”

And you turned to him, which was the only thing besides the starlit arena above you and Jungkook and the train you’d rather be looking at right now.

“I can’t wait to go home. I miss it so much.” It was the first time you said it out loud, as well as the first time you were able to admit that to yourself. 

“I’m glad you feel that way. You should feel that way.” 

“Thank you.”

There were a plethora of reasons that prompted that thank you. Far too many reasons that were decidedly unfit for just a single thank you. So, you concluded that the thank you was for Jungkook; for becoming a part of your life. For every decision he made on this train that rearranged your feelings towards him into something pleasant. Something that felt warm and safe.

Tonight, the last thing you saw before slipping away into sleep was all the stars that weren't at your disposal before. Every silvery diamond brandished along the expanding sky was so mesmerizing, you wished you could imprint them into the backs of your eyelids when they eventually lulled you into a calm slumber. That and the memory of Jungkook’s rendition of Dream a Little Dream of Me set on repeat in your head. 

This time, you weren't trapped in the confines of a dark train hallway. You were standing in the middle of a grassy field, laden with a diverse collection of wildflowers. The mellow green hues seemed to lift from the blades of grass, stretching into the air around you.

And your mother was there. She wasn’t being blown away by the wind. Just like the sturdy trunk of a tree, she stood with dignity and conviction at the top of the highest hill that provided a view of your hometown; it was the most beautiful you had ever seen her. 

“Mom!” The way you were running felt more like gliding, or flying even, because you moved through the wind without a bit of resistance. Your body was frictionless and unstoppable. And when you finally fell into your mother’s arms, it was the most freeing feeling in the world. 

“I’ve missed you so much. I thought you were going to leave me.” The blue sky that sealed you and your mom into the earth made a stunning partner for the fields of green underneath you. 

“I’m always with you, darling.”

It was difficult to decide whether the sound of her voice or the sentiment behind it made you cry, so you decided not to decide at all, and instead, you simply let yourself cry. Everything was so beautiful, but still not complete. 

“Mom, I feel like something’s missing.”

“There is.” She responded, but it wasn’t a question. Your mom was not your mom, just a figment herself cultivated by your own mind. She was one with you, and she knew exactly what was missing. 

“Where do I find it?” Her hands cupped your cheeks, just like she would when you were young and crying over a scraped knee.

“You know, love. You know.” 

The wind pulled a gentle melody from the spaces between the leaves. A melody you were quite familiar with and grew to love. It slowed, then everything was silent.

Day Three

Waking up came to you in a hurry, as if you shouldn’t spend another second living life through dreams because today was the last day on the train. The last day you’d spend with Jungkook, and possibly the last time you would ever see him.

It was uncharacteristic of you to feel this way. Disappointed at both yourself and your situation. You knew from the beginning that this was a temporary arrangement, and Jungkook was not a permanent fixture in your life. In fact, you used to be thankful for those circumstances because you hated Jungkook. 

But, of course, you went ahead and let him in. You let him buy you tasty drinks, hold you during thunderstorms, and offer you a coat, a smile, a laugh when everything felt cold. You let him ripple currents of fun into your life, but that would be giving yourself too much credit, you suppose.

Because it was never a matter of allowing him to do any of this. He did all of those things, and more, all by himself.

What was even more uncharacteristic of you was greeting the early morning before Jungkook. He was sound asleep, with skin being lightly freckled by the glints of sunlight shimmering through the gaps in the clouds. The morning sun was always docile, kindly shedding light in a way that wouldn’t pull sweat from your skin like it did in the afternoon.

You liked the sight of him sleeping, mostly because it was one of the few moments of the day when he was completely silent, and those were rare.

“Better take this opportunity.” You whispered to yourself before getting up, covering Jungkook with the coat, and heading to the concession stand you had raided with Jungkook yesterday. 

Wondering if the workers noticed the missing inventory, you idled by the counter before ordering but they all looked too tired to care to serve you let alone realize a quarter of the chocolate mint packs were taken.

“Hi, two warm milks with honey and cinnamon please.” The attendant seemed to appreciate how closely your voice was to a whisper. He sluggishly poured two steaming cups of milk and sleeved them before exchanging them for the money already placed onto the counter. 

“Honey and cinnamon are over at the self-serving station.” You followed to where his finger was aimed towards and nodded politely with the two cups in each hand.

You didn’t know why, but imagining Jungkook making this drink himself, instead of ordering it premade, ranked this act as something more motivated than customary kindness. Because getting these drinks wasn’t simply walking to a stand, purchasing, and walking back to Cart 102. There was now an erroneous step you hadn’t accounted for. The act of making milk with honey and cinnamon. 

As you scooped a spoonful of honey to mix into the creamy liquid, one of your mother’s many proverbs rang in your ears, as if she was standing right beside you saying it.

“When you make food for someone, it’s just another way to express that you love them!”

It froze you for a second. Recalling what she would say when you would throw together a meal for the pair of you when she was too tired to. She worked so hard as a single mother, so every shortcoming felt like a colossal failure, no matter how little it mattered to you. And she would always say that to you because ‘thank you’ just didn’t cut it.

This was the first thing you made for someone other than your mother and yourself. But, there’s no way it was because you loved him. 

Just this once, you thought. Just this once I’ll make food for someone that I don’t love.

You were relieved to greet a still sleeping Jungkook when you returned to your cart. The cart you studied closer, because you were about to leave it and wanted to retain all the details that you could before it became a memory you would only visit when you were feeling reminiscent.

The beige walls, the small table where you would read and Jungkook would compose, the stiff leather seats that you had surprisingly gotten used to, and the large window that gave you a glimpse of the blurry world waiting for you.

Jungkook’s groan snapped you out of your trance. Before he regained full cognizance, you placed the cup in front of him so you’d be able to boast that you had woken up before him and had the morning all to yourself for a moment. That now you were the one sharing the world with him.

“What’s this?” He said groggily. 

“You know.” You tried your best to mirror his smugness, the way he would sip his drink after sending a witty one-liner through the air like it was no big deal to him. 

Before you became lost in the person you changed into with Jungkook, a person that felt more like a fun costume to wear when you didn’t feel like being yourself anymore, the more neurotic and controlling part of you fell back through when you remembered that the measurements of the ingredients might have been off.

Maybe you had gotten the drink entirely wrong, so your deed would shrivel down to a failed act of kindness. Nothing at all your mother would consider a gesture of love. And that was more frightening than any blast of thunder.

“It's delicious.” Jungkook said out of nowhere, almost as though he knew he was interrupting your thoughts. Breaking them down into a powder thinner than flour, so he could blow all your worries away with one puff of air. He wasn’t lying either, it was delicious.

You spent a gracious amount of time and energy avoiding the book you were meant to finish during this train ride. Instead, your efforts were fully consumed by the last person you thought would ever be the center of your attention. At least, you thought if he were going to be the focus of it, then it would have been because you were mentally berating him for reasons that didn’t bother you much at all anymore; in fact, they started becoming admirable.

“If you could run faster than a train, where would you go?” He asked.

“Paris. Or Italy. I'd just have to figure out how to run on water.” You earned a good laugh from Jungkook with that comment. And finally, you felt like you were beginning to find your niche in conversations, and it relied heavily on sarcasm.

“I’d love to see the day when ___ walks on water.” 

“What about you? Where would you go?”

“I would make my legs take me straight to Carnegie Hall and force the organization to play one of my pieces.” Each word was formed by his tongue as if he had that response rehearsed a hundred times over. Jungkook knew exactly what he wanted, and given the chance, he would use any and every asset to get him there.

That alone was why you fell into something deeper than attraction. Why you began to take notice of things about him that weren’t of importance before. And why your intentions to observe how the world designed this man to be so stunningly unique was less cryptic than you’d hoped.

Maybe if you noticed how his white button-up was undone down to his sternum and tucked into the waistband of his slacks tastefully, then your heart would have taken a quicker pace long before now. If you noticed how his jet black hair was gentle and fluffy when it draped over his eyes, then you would have been frustrated with yourself sooner for not seizing the chance to introduce your fingers to its texture. And if you noticed how the ridges along his palm looked perfect to be held in, then you would have savored every second he held you the night of the storm. There was an astonishing number of details about Jungkook, about as many as the stars in the sky, that would have made you mountains more intimidated to even speak with him. 

One of the attendants left all your observations of Jungkook scattered when she peaked her head through to give the two of you an update on your arrival.

“Looks like we’ll be getting in earlier than expected!” In theory, that was a blessing. You’d get to finally deboard the train and be with your mother. Though, you’d be lying if some piece of you wanted this train to continue west until there was no more land to travel on; and if you could, you would redistribute each part of this train to assemble a boat, so you could sail Jungkook across the seven seas. “Our arrival will be in twenty minutes! I hope you both enjoyed your trip.”

And if Jungkook felt the same way, he didn’t show it through his polite smile and nod at the attendant. 

“We’ll be getting off soon.” He said to you, though you could tell it was his way of interrogating your thoughts on the matter.

“Time moved by so oddly on the train. I didn’t even notice it was already day three.” You paused and took one last glance out of the window. “Funny.”

"It's funny,” He began, and you settled into what you knew was about to be another piece of Jungkook's mind served in the form of his delicate words, “when you're inside a train you don't feel like you're moving. Even though you are, of course. You're moving faster than you would outside of a train. But we feel like we are still because we are moving with the train. When you're in a train, you are moving with time too, so it feels rushed and stagnant all at once. When you're not inside, time moves past you. It feels better to move with time, don’t you think? It feels like you could outrun it if you wanted to, or it feels like you will never run out of time at all. That you and time are equals. But soon, we'll have to get back onto the platform, and time will move past us again, and it’ll feel like we’re running out already."

“You’re right.” You finally admitted. “We’re running out of time.” 

We’re running out of time— together, you wanted to say. However, courage and boldness was a currency you weren’t rich in. Unspoken desires and lost hopes were all you had left to tender. 

“Yeah, I guess so. Hey, I-” He hesitated as well, because when you looked at him with such wishful eyes, it made what he had to say entirely too real and all too scary. “I really liked being your travel buddy.” 

You could tell he was holding back too. That everything you wanted to say to him and everything he wanted to say to you wasn’t meant to be translated into words, that exchanging sentimental smiles was all you and he could afford. Instead, it was better to exist through the language of emotions, floating around the train, moving with time, and eventually, when you and Jungkook returned to the world, those emotions would remain with the train and travel beyond your destination. 

That’s why you let them go. Sometimes, a train is only meant to be a train. 

“Me too. Though, I have to admit I hated you at first.” 

“I know.” He grinned as you etched the most accurate memory of it in your brain as you could. 

His stance came unprecedented. The small radio tucked in his bag now sitting on the table, serenading an unfamiliar melody and overtaking the silent air inside Cart 102. Then, came his hand, extended to you just like he had yesterday. Only this time, you didn’t need to wonder what he wanted from you because you would give whatever he asked. 

You took his hand, or rather you gave him yours, and followed his gentle tug until it led you to his body, pressing away all the space once separating the two of you. Jungkook’s hand followed the curve of your waist until it landed at the small of your back while you instinctively rested yours on his shoulder. 

You and Jungkook swayed to the music until all those words about moving with time became real. The way he held you close had you immune to the passage of time. The soft brush of his breath against your cheek felt welcoming, and you would try your very best to remember the way existing felt when your skin was touching his. It was odd, dancing on a train with someone you didn’t know well enough to call a friend but weren’t estranged enough to call an acquaintance. Again, it felt like you were in between two walls, stuck, trying to out-think your way through a collapsing maze of judgement. 

Though, no matter how odd it was, it stopped neither you nor Jungkook from holding onto each other for the last few moments available. 

The train must have hit a rock, one you would like to thank because it knocked the two of you over until you had fallen into his lap, laughing so hard your bodies shook. You would have been uncomfortable in this compromising position if not for the sense of belonging fostered in the empty space in your chest while being in his arms.

Jungkook didn’t notice you were detangling your limbs from his until you were already gone, seated across from him in the same spot. 

Once, he learned in science class of this phenomenon called ‘afterimage’, which is when your eyes get so accustomed to staring at one particular thing that when you look away, the thing stained your vision in the form of a silhouette, like an echo of something your eyes grew so comfortable seeing that it stayed with you, even when you looked away.

And he knew, even when the view of you sitting across from him in this train wasn’t there anymore, he would carry that afterimage of you, always echoing in his vision like a beautiful melody he couldn’t get out of his head. Not that he wanted to let go anyway

It was sour, the cruelty of letting go. When the train began to brake, it felt like a lifetime of agony. A bitter, unforgiving slap in the face courtesy of the confines of reality, stealing you away from the shelter of a train; a place that made it so easy to be swept up in something as dazzling and impossible as magic. You were onto important things, you knew this, but it was nice to live, even if it were just for a bit, inside something as magical as Cart 102, where you could count on a generous supply of warm coats, milk with honey and cinnamon, and Jungkook.

“Well, our stop is here. Hey, how about we share a cab? Why not save some money, right?” You could only nod, because speaking would have led to tears, which would have led to a failed explanation of why you were crying.

Jungkook hailed the yellow vehicle over, the opening of his shirt widened just an inch too much to let your mind wander.

“You’re going to the hospital, right?” He asked.

“Yeah, the only one in town.” You said, knowing the driver wouldn’t need any more specifics than that. This town was so small there were a lot of singular facilities that made the layout equally difficult to be crammed into and easy to memorize. One library, one park, one church, and one hospital.

As Jungkook went to give the driver your destinations, you packed up the luggage into the trunk. Not too long after, you were side by side in the back of a cab. All you could bring yourself to do was gaze out of the window and watch all the familiar scenes of your hometown pass by, each landmark dousing you with a strong presence of nostalgia. 

No matter how sad parting ways with Jungkook was, it was good to be home.

The cab finally arrived at the hospital, and you got out not expecting the other person in the car to get out with you. Perhaps he was being polite and saying goodbye. You knew you would have done the same if his stop preceded yours.

The two of you stood in front of the entrance, gawking up at the tall building that was in desperate need of reconstruction. You turned your gaze over to Jungkook. 

“Where to now, Mr. Jeon?” You asked, since this town was small enough, and you were fluent in every secret hiding spot it had to offer, you might be able to visit him if that wouldn’t come off as too invasive.

“I'm here.” He responded just as ambiguously and ever so matter-of-factly as always. This time, you demanded to know more.

“What? What do you mean?”

“It took a long time to find a doctor that specializes in my condition.” Jungkook finally turned to you, his eyes crowded by tears. “My heart is weak, ___. I came here to get better, and hopefully, I do. I'm going to be a famous composer one day, and I’ll need a strong heart to get me to that point.” 

You felt angry at him again. For not telling you, because it felt less like keeping something from you and more like lying to you. For telling you, and making it sound like it wasn’t a big deal, that it wouldn’t break your heart into pieces weaker than his own.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” It was the harsh snap he expected from you, but he was committed to keeping this a secret until he couldn’t because it was easier that way. 

“I didn’t want to admit it. I’m scared, ___. Really scared. If I don't get better…” 

“Well, you have to! Carnegie Hall is waiting for you and I didn’t waste my time getting to know you for nothing. So, you just go ahead and get better okay?” Your words were coated in anger but layered on top of something compassionate, sweet even. Sweeter than milk, honey, and cinnamon. 

“I’ll try.” He grinned again, knowing it would satisfy you for the time being. Grinning, like a goodbye gift. 

“You’re an idiot, Jungkook.” 

Before you could lose the last word, you gripped your luggage in one hand, the pillow in the other, and made your way into the hospital, leading to what you knew would be countless nights spent at the side of a hospital bed, eating foods you’d rather not eat, and watching daytime cable while taking care of your mother.

What you didn’t know was that a good portion of those nights would be spent with someone else. Someone who resided in the west wing of the hospital. 

Someone who would bring your hand to his heart, and ask you if it felt stronger, and you would always reply with ‘yes’, or ‘yes, you idiot’, even when you were terrified that one day your hand wouldn’t feel the tap of his heart against his chest. Someone who would sing to you in exchange for the times you would read to him. Someone who you would leave notes and small gifts for, his personal favorite being the packet of walnuts accompanied with a folded paper inscribed ‘for when you need to get out of class’. Someone who, when he would be having a particularly difficult night, you’d fall asleep holding hands with, and you’d wake him up with a warm cup of his signature beverage.

Someone you would inevitably begin to fall in love with. 

A month later, one of two people you loved dearly would walk out with you through those hospital doors. That person was Jungkook. And the melancholy of losing your mother to the battle between her and her cancer would also follow you, and stay with you almost as long as Jungkook had.

A year later, you would return, hand in hand with Jungkook. Every two months. It was the promise you sealed onto your mother's gravestone that you would always return every two months. Even if the weather dispatched the most terrifying thunderstorms, or your work piled a stack of paperwork high enough to reach the sky, you’d still return home.

You and Jungkook placed a bundle of wildflowers you picked on the way to her grave, sitting at the top of a grassy highland, at the base of the granite stone. She was overlooking the world, with a perfect view of you; it made you feel safe that she was watching over you, and she was watching over Jungkook and his slowly recovering heart. 

The weather was perfect. The sun blanketed everything beneath it with a generous warmth but didn't restrict the gentle breeze from tempering it. The leaves and grass moved with the wind, but your mother’s tombstone was strong and unmoving, losing no part of herself to the fluid motions of the spring air. 

“I kind of like it here.” He said softly, adorning the view of the hilltop with you. It was the morning, and it didn’t feel like he was sharing the world with you anymore. It felt like it was yours to begin with, and he was just lucky enough to be allowed a part of it. 

“Me too.” One hand was with Jungkook, and the other was with your mother.

“I think it would be a nice place to get married and raise our children. You know, after I become a world-renowned composer and all.” This would have shocked you if you had not been wishing to hear him confirm these dreams of yours for a while now. “Did that scare you? I didn’t mean to be too forward.”

“No, I think this would be the perfect place to live. Only if it's with you.” Because you knew, something was missing here without him. He made this hometown of yours finally complete in the wake of your mother’s passing. 

When you kissed him, he tasted like honey. And he would have told you that you tasted like cinnamon.

It could never scare you, because you were in love.

You were in a debt of gratitude that was deeper than the ocean. There was so much you wanted to say to him.

The town is milk. It is up to you and me, Jungkook, to provide the ingredients that will liven this town of milk into something sweeter, something survivable, something that will continue to sustain a force as powerful as love. Without the honey and cinnamon, all you have is milk. It seems we are the perfect blend of the two to make this bitter place palatable when it hits our tongues. This town needs us together in the same way milk needs honey and cinnamon. 

You didn’t say any of those words out loud. You didn’t need to. All you needed to say was:

“I love you.”

And all he needed to say was:

“I love you too.” 

[sxfik]

you're the sunshine in the rain when it's pouring (won't you give yourself to me?)

read on ao3 • masterlist

summary: Kang Sol A was not afraid, she wasn’t built to be afraid. But what else could you call the pang that rippled through her heart as she noticed the two figures huddled at the cafe near the entrance of her school?

a/n: hello! this is my first solhwi fic i've written and if i'm being honest, it's kind of a mess but i have so many ideas for them, especially after these last few episodes! honestly, the two of them are the epitome of idiots to lovers so i just had to write this! the title of this fic is from best part by Daniel Ceasar ft. H. E. R.

come interact or drop a request if you want to see more solhwi content :)

Kang Sol A was not afraid.

She wasn’t afraid during her yearly doctor’s appointment, the glint of the long needle threatening to pierce through her. She wasn’t afraid when she stood up for her sisters, time and time again, until she was beaten and bruised protecting them. In the face of any adversity, she was taught to stand strong and fight, no matter how big or small the enemy. Even at the face of losing her scholarship and being expelled from Hankuk Law School, she knew she could pull herself up.

No, Kang Sol A was not afraid, she wasn’t built to be afraid. But what else could you call the pang that rippled through her heart as she noticed the two figures huddled at the cafe near the entrance of her school?

It’s been a week since Ye Seul’s trial, five days since the incident, and four days since she started avoiding Mr. Second Round Judicial Exam, Han Joon Hwi.

His presence was bearable prior to Ye Seul’s trial. Actually, more than bearable. It was a comfort, a person she knew she could let her guard down with. His teasing smiles or his love for ramen at any time of day.  As her days and her mind got busier day by day, his presence was unyielding. Every late night in the library, he was by her side, explaining the codes over and over again. Even when she got frustrated, or whiny, Joon Hwi was infinitely patient with her. With Joon Hwi by her side, everything seemed so easy. She saw the light at the end of the long tunnel she was dragged through. Still, with Kang Dan’s sudden appearance, Mr. Yang and Ye Seul’s trial, her mind was too busy to think clearly. To see clearly.

But when his gaze shifted to her and her roommate when he stood as a witness during Ye-Seul’s trial, her breath caught in her throat as she imagined, just for a moment, that he was going to say her name. That he was looking at her. That he was in love with her.

It was as if something clicked, like the puzzle pieces coming together in her mind. In an instant, she saw him in such clarity, every action, every smile and gesture passing through her mind. Cliche as it seems, it was as if she saw him for the first time all over again.

But of course, that gaze was not meant for her. Why would it be? Han Joon Hwi was meant to be with Sol B, not her. The students who were born to work with the law are perfectly suited for each other. It was obvious that he wanted to protect Sol B. Yet, in her weakest moment, her heart yearned for it to be her.

Forcing herself to breathe, she continued on after the trial as if nothing had changed between them. Because, well, they haven’t. The view had shifted but only for her.  At first, it was easier than she expected, teasing him about her roommate. Sol would be lying if she said it didn’t come with a twinge of jealousy but what could she do, but continue to be loyal to him. So on she continued, with Joon Hwi blissfully unaware that she was falling deeper for him, day by day.

Of course, nothing ever goes her way. Five nights ago, Sol was seated at her usual desk at the library, the rows of desks unoccupied. It was another late night for her, as she poured over her case files for a quiz the next day. Despite being a breeze for the other students, Sol had to study for a 110% in order to score an 80%. Sol set up camp in the library, her texts haphazardly strewed across the desk, highlighter in hand, as she buckled down for a long night of studying.

As the hours passed, her vision slowly blurred, the words on the page meshing together into a blob of black squiggles. She blinked, forcing her eyes to focus but to no avail. Sighing, she shut her eyes as she slumped back into her chair, allowing her head to loll off the edge of her chair and stretching her arms out.

“Still studying?” Joon Hwi’s familiar voice startled her, her head jerking back and almost tipping her chair backwards. “Whoa, Sol, be careful!” he lunged, catching her chair before she had the chance to stabilize herself.

“Yah, Han Joon Hwi, why would you come up suddenly like that?” Sol wrinkled her nose at him in annoyance, getting a teasing smirk in response. Sol turned towards her desk, pulling herself closer to the desk as he looked over her.

“Are you studying for Professor Jung’s quiz tomorrow?” he questioned, his head tilting in a familiar way as she sighed once more.

“Of course I am. Not all of us are law geniuses like you, Mr. Second Round Judicial Exam,” Sol huffed as she looked up at him but she softened her face as she saw the smile on his face.

Joon Hwi let out a small laugh as he stepped closer to her, clapping a hand on her shoulder in reassurance. “Well, then I’d be more than qualified to help, don’t you think, sunbae?” he quipped back.

“Hey, I can do it myse-”

“Hm, let me see,”  he cut her off, his eyebrows furrowed. Her heart stuttered as he leaned forward, over her shoulder, looking onto the texts that lay in front of her. “Oh, this one isn’t as bad as the others, you should start with this and then…” he rambled on, but every once of her concentration was on his proximity. The warmth of his hand on her shoulder bleed through her shirt, the feel of his palm burning her skin. He was close enough that she could hear the soft puffs of his breath, his warmth radiating off his body pulling her body towards him like a magnet.

It’s okay, just breathe. You know how to breathe right, Sol? She slowly instructed herself on how to breathe like she suddenly had to learn all over again. And wow, was that a bad idea. His cologne is even more intoxicating up close, and so is Joon Hwi. Every one of her senses was overloaded, her mind blank save for him.

“Yah, Kang Sol? You better be paying atten-” he turned his head towards her, and she forgot how to breathe all over again. His brown eyes widened in surprise as his face just centimeters away from hers. Sol parted her lips ever so slightly to speak but his gaze dropped her lips and her mind was blank again as she blinked at him. His features were so much softer up close, as she watched his face relax. His long eyelashes brushed against his cheek as he blinked. His eyes flitted back to her, but his familiar honey eyes darkened. Her eyes drifted over his face, and then dipped down to his soft lips. If she just moved closer, she could feel how soft his lips were...

And suddenly, reality slapped her in the face. What would Sol B think if she caught her boyfriend so close to her? Even with her roommate’s cold behavior, Sol knew just how much she suffered and how much it would break her to know how she felt about Joon Hwi. Despite every molecule in her body begging her to move closer, she couldn’t do that to Sol B.

So she moved away, stuttering out some lame excuse as she gathered her books and stumbled out of the library. But as she lay in her bedroom, staring up at the ceiling as she imagined all that could have happened between them, the warmth of the memory spread across her body.

And Kang Sol A knew that she wasn’t just afraid. She was terrified.

When she couldn’t stand and fight, she did the next best thing. She ran. She intricately planned everyday to minimize her contact with him as much as possible. Obviously, step one was to sit away from him in class, to avoid his gaze in the halls. She would leave her dorm as early as possible and hide until he was finished with his dinner to sneak in and grab herself something.

But it wasn’t until she tried to avoid him that she realized just how much space in her life was occupied by him. He used to always sit next to or across from her. Always looking over her shoulder, or leaning over  to see the textbooks clearly. Every time she turned to ask a question, or make a snarky comment, there was an empty space reminding her of her decision.

Still, even if he wasn’t physically present, he occupied a corner in her mind. His voice was in her head, echoing responses to her every thought. Her mind would fill with things she wanted to rant about, to ask, to share with him. When she closes her eyes at night and drifts into sleep, he would be there, his signature teasing smile on his face.

And he didn’t seem to be making it any easier on her. It seemed that Joon Hwi took it upon himself to magically appear whenever she least expected him to. If she went to the copy room to print a case file, he was sitting there, looking through a stack of papers or in line to print a copy himself. If she decides to have a late night study session, there he is across from her, books in hand with his legs propped up on a table.

Han Joon Hwi was the constant, unavoidable presence that she can’t seem to get rid of from her life. From her mind. From her heart.

“Unnie?” a soft voice snapped Kang Sol out of her thoughts, and Ye Seul appeared in front of her, near the entrance. How long have I stood here? Sol blinked.

“Ah, Ye-Seul,” she smiled at her best friend. “Let’s have some coffee today? At the cafe?” she asked, her shoulders relaxing after flitting up to where Joon Hwi and Kang Sol B stood. Well, where they were standing. I guess they left. Ye Seul’s eyebrows furrowed as she followed Sol’s gaze but before she could respond, Sol A hooked an elbow through hers, dragging her toward the cafe.

But of course, nothing ever goes her way.

“Ah, Ye-Seul, can I borrow Kang Sol for a moment?” Joon Hwi asked, suddenly appearing in their path, his eyes strictly focused on her best friend. Sol squeezed her arm in alarm, everything in her body pleading for Ye-Seul to say no so she can just avoid him until her crush fades away.

“Unnie, buy me the coffee next time, hm?” Ye-Seul turned to her with an apologetic gaze. Betrayal. I’ll get you back for this. Sol A sighed as she turned her gaze to Joon Hwi.

“Yah, Sol, why are you avoiding me like this? Please, just talk to me so we can fix it,” he pleaded with her, wasting no time to get to the point. Sol A pursed her lips as she looked up at him, her mind too full for her to answer him. What could she say to him? That she likes him? That she’s found out how much she needs him in her life, but she was too late?

“Sol, please,” his voice broke slightly as the silence stretched between them but that was enough for her to sigh, her shoulders relaxing as she gave in to him.

“Okay,” she responded and that was all Joon Hwi needed to grab her wrist and walk towards the corridor between the stairwells.

“We can talk more privately,” he answered her before she even voiced the question. “Now, why are you mad at me? The last time I saw you was at the library and then you disappeared,” Joon hwi ran a hand through his hair nervously as he rambled on and for the first time, Kang Sol took him in. To say he was disheveled was an understatement. The usual calm demeanor was nowhere to be seen and his clothes were askew as his face showed the lack of sleep and exhaustion. Her heart clenched for him, but no, you can’t do this. You can’t betray Sol B.

“Don’t you think it’s best if we don’t interact with how we used to?” she asked, her eyes glued to the floor, ignoring her throat closing up at the thought of breaking their friendship.

“What?” his eyes zeroed in on her, and she could see the confusion running through his mind.

“What do you think Sol B would think if she saw us like this? We can’t be close like this with each other bec-”

“Who cares about how I am with you?” he cut her off, his jaw clenched as his eyebrows furrow in frustration.

“Ya Han Joon Hwi, how could you do this? I expected so much better from you. Don’t you understand, it’s terrible to do this to her!” she pleaded with him, her heart squeezing inside her chest. Sol clenched her jaw, willing herself to be strong for her roommate’s sake, for his sake, and for hers.

Silence stretched between them as she looked up to him. His eyes closed for a moment while he looked down to the floor. And then his eyes flitted up and into her eyes as his fist clenched, his brown eyes filling with an unreadable emotion. “Why is it so terrible?” he whispered.

“Why-” Sol started, her voice burning in anger and pain.

“Why is it so terrible that I’m in love with you?” Joon hwi’s eyes flickered up to hers, his gaze boring into her.

Kang Sol blinked. Her back straightened as her mouth opened and closed like a fish, as Joon Hwi took a step closer. “Me?” she stuttered out, her mind spinning, unable to process his words.

“You.” He stepped closer.

“But you like Kang Sol-”

“A. Kang Sol A.” Another step closer.

She closed her eyes as she shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts and to ignore his proximity. But all her attempts were futile as Joon Hwi brought his hand up, his touch feather light as he cupped her face, tilting it up to meet his gaze. Sol’s hands felt frozen as her breath lodged into her throat, her eyes meeting his. She could hear her heart thundering in her ribcage as Joon hwi spoke.

“I like you, Kang Sol. It’s always been you,” he whispered, his voice wavering as he grew closer, his lips just a centimeter away from hers. Never one with patience, she surged forward to meet his lips. Her imagination and dreams did not compare to how his lips felt against hers. It was soft and his kisses were just as unyielding as his presence. It was all consuming as her hands gripped his coat, pulling him closer. His thumb running across her cheekbones, he shifted his head pulling her in deeper as his hands cupped her face. Even though their lips just met for a few moments, it felt as though his soft lips were against hers for an eternity.

Sol’s eyes were still closed as they parted, not wishing to leave this moment and back into real life. Apprehensively, she met his eyes and a moment of silence stretched between them, as they caught their breath. A million watt smile stretched across his face, his contagious happiness brightening her up as she smiled back. But suddenly reality caught up to her.

“Wait, so you’re not with my roommate?” she questioned, confused about everything she had seen between them. Joon hwi shook his head.

“No, I was just with her because she asked for help during one of her legal research papers,” he explained, then paused. “Yah, wait. You avoided me this whole time because you thought I was in love with Kang Sol B?” a smirk spread across his face, his expression taunting. Sol bit her lip as she looked down, unwilling to admit her mistake.

“Yah, how can you be at law school and not figure out I liked you!” he asked, his voice incredulous.

“You were so ambiguous! Every time I thought you liked me as more than friends, you’d act close with Sol B!” she huffed out, pouting  and pulling away from him, embarrassed that she thought he liked her roommate. Before she could pull away, he wrapped his arms around her, drawing her into a crushing hug. Her body relaxed as she took him in, the way he felt against her intoxicating and comforting beyond description.

Kang Sol A was terrified. But having him at her side was enough to know that she could fight once more, together, as more than friends.

[ghstandpucks]

Nothin’ Like You ~ Cale Makar

In honor of reaching over 200 followers, here is a song fic based on Dan and Shay’s Nothin’ Like You. I have a few requests in my inbox that I will be working on. If you have any, feel free to send them in using this prompt! Thank you for 200!!!

Master List

I remember when I first met you Sipping coffee in a corner booth You were twirling your hair And I just had to stare For a minute or two

Cale was with Tyson and J.T. after practice one Wednesday afternoon. The three of them decided to stop and get some coffee as it was a cold winter day outside. They were waiting in line talking about something E.J. had said earlier that day when Cale’s eyes landed on you in the back corner by a window. You had a cup of coffee and were staring at your laptop, completely oblivious to the world around you. He couldn’t help but stare as you wound and un-wound a strand of hair around your finger, every so often stopping to type something. Tyson kept talking as J.T. realized their defenseman was completely distracted by something. Following his line of sight, he chuckled. “See something you like? Or someone?” he chirped his teammate. Cale started to turn red as he looked away from you.

“I thought maybe I knew her,” he muttered. Tyson had stopped his monologue and was paying attention also now. He looked over as you had your head buried in a book, slowly typing something out.

“How did she carry all those books?” he asked with a slight laugh. Cale had noticed the numerous books you had scattered around the table. Didn’t people just do their research online now? “You like studious girls Makar?” Tyson elbowed him.

I was laughing at your stack of books Then you shot me that smile Hey beautiful girl, in your own little world Let me in it

“Man shut up,” Cale said turning on his friend. Unknowingly to them though, you had actually heard all the commotion. It was why you enjoyed doing your research in coffee shops; the garbled noises made it easier for you to concentrate. This doesn’t mean that you had heard what they said exactly, but who could really miss three hockey players walking into a small coffee shop in the middle of the week.

You looked up right as Cale was glancing back over at you. As you locked eyes, you sent him a shy smile and looked back down, trying to focus on your work again. Of course you knew who they were, all of Denver practically did. You were just an overstressed grad student with too many deadlines coming up though; he was probably just looking around the place.

The three of them ordered their coffees, and Cale noticed that you had looked sadly at your cup after taking a sip. He walked up to the counter and got the attention of the barista. “What did that girl in the corner order?” he asked, and was told it was a caramel latte. “I’ll take one of those too,” Cale said, paying for a second coffee. J.T. gave Tyson a look before he could say anything as they watched Cale walk over to you with two coffee cups.

You got all of my attention And you ain't even trying Yeah, you're my kind of different And I never seen nothin'

Nothin' like you

“Um hi. I hope you don’t mind, but I thought you could use this,” Cale said, announcing his presence at your table. You looked up, slightly startled as you had been engrossed in a thought you had while typing out your research. “Didn’t mean to scare you,” he chuckled nervously.

“No, you’re fine! Sorry, I had a train of thought going,” you sputtered out just as nervous as him. “Thank you, that’s very kind. What do I owe you?” you asked, instinctively reaching for your wallet. Cale shook his head.

“Nothing,” he said, trying to think of what the guys on the team might say in this situation. “Your number maybe?” he made a face like he couldn’t believe he just said that, and you couldn’t help but giggle.

“Um, sure, yeah,” you squeaked out, writing your number on a piece of notebook paper and ripping it out to give to him. “I’m Y/N,” you introduced yourself.

“Cale,” he said, taking the paper from you. He was about to ask what you were doing when Tyson called out to him.

“Makar, are you coming?” Cale turned toward his friends who had big, goofy grins on their faces watching the interaction. You blushed slightly at the thought of others watching you.

“I’m sorry. I’ll text you,” he stuttered out, putting your number into his pocket. You smiled softly at him and nodded.

“Thanks for the coffee,” you said and he smiled at you.

“My pleasure.”  

Shades on spinning in a summer rain Dancing when there ain’t no music Just the right kind of crazy, baby

           Cale had texted you like he said he would that same evening. You honestly weren’t expecting it, but felt completely giddy when you saw the unknown number and read his message. He explained that he would be gone on a road trip with the Avs for the next week, but would like to take you to dinner when he got back. You accepted and plans were made; the two of you talking regularly throughout the week getting to know each other better.

           The Avs returned home on Thursday, and a few hours later Cale was at your apartment knocking on your door. He had brought you flowers and you couldn’t help but smile at the kind gesture. The two of you made your way to dinner, talking the whole time. He had just finished telling you a funny story from the trip, beaming at the giggle he had enticed from you when your food arrived. As you looked down at your plate, you started moving your head and shoulders in an excited fashion. “Are you dancing?” Cale questioned you with a chuckle. You stopped immediately.

           “Oh my gosh, sorry. I tend to have a happy dance with food. It’s a weird family thing. I don’t even realize I do it until it’s pointed out to me,” you rambled on, face turning red. Cale shook his head.

           “Don’t be sorry. I though it was cute,” he said in a low tone. You smiled and giggled nervously; Cale deciding then and there that he wanted to continue seeing that smile for as long as you would let him.  

Something about you Rocking that rock 'n roll t-shirt Whole party dressed up But you just doin’ your thing Ain't nobody ever seen nothin' like you

           You were working on your research the following Friday night, having the game on in the background. Cale had taken you out to dinner once more since your first date, and the two of you had been nonstop texting. The Avs had won, Cale scoring that night. After the game you were about to text him a ‘congratulations’ when your phone started to ring, the caller ID showing it was him. “Congratulations!” you said as you answered and heard him chuckle on the other end of the line.

           “Thanks Y/N. Hey, what are you doing tonight?” he asked, and you heard a few wolf whistles behind him with muttered ‘shut ups’ coming from the defenseman.

           “I’ve just been working on my research since I got out of class earlier. Why?” you asked, trying not to laugh.

           “Come out with us. We’re all going out to celebrate,” he said in a more hushed tone, and you could imagine him trying to avoid the whole locker room from hearing.

           “Cale, I would love to but I’m not dressed to go out,” you said.

           “Who cares. Please? I would like you to come,” he pleaded with you ever so slightly. You looked down at your outfit, deciding it wouldn’t take much to put on some jeans quickly. Your Red Hot Chili Peppers shirt didn’t look terrible at least.

           “Text me the address,” you said into the phone, and you could hear the excitement in Cale’s voice as he said he would.

When you're wearing them worn out jeans Purple untied shoestrings You're a light in the dark And you're stealing my heart like a gypsy

           Showing up to the bar, you became a little self-conscious. Maybe you should have changed? The second Cale spotted you though, he thought you were the most beautiful girl in the room. The front of your band tee was tucked into your ripped black jeans, your white converse showing years of wear as they were no longer exactly white and the shoelaces were frayed at the ends. Cale knew you were probably stressed with your research, and yet you still had the softest smile and a sparkle in your eyes when you found him in the crowd. “You made it,” he whispered into your hair as he hugged you close. He felt you giggle into his chest.

           “Couldn’t let you down,” you answered simply. Cale smiled at you and took your hand, leading you over to a table where some of the team was sitting.

           “Coffee shop girl!” A slightly tipsy Tyson shouted.

           “Oh my God,” Cale muttered as you giggled. You were introduced to everyone as you took a seat between Cale and someone he called Gravy.

           “So what is your research on?” Gabriel Landeskog asked when you said you were a grad student at the University of Denver.

           “The archaeology of Zoroastrianism,” you said, and caught many blank stares.

           “Zoro what?” Andre asked.

           “It’s an ancient Persian religion. Today’s modern practices of Christianity, Islam, and Judaism all have common ties to it,” you briefly explained.

           “Wait, that was the religion Freddie Mercury practiced,” Sam Girard commented, looking interested. You nodded.

           “That’s how most people have heard of it now,” you responded.

           “What is your research trying to say about it?” he asked.

           “So I’m basically writing a big literature review to make sure it is preserved in the archaeological record. It was the first dualistic religion in a time where civilizations had their pantheons to believe in. It spread with the Persian conquest, but no one they conquered was ever forced to convert to it. Now it’s a rare religion to come across, and their numbers keep getting smaller. With it being one of the oldest organized religions, it needs to be preserved and the traditions documented before we lose it all through modernization attempts.” To you, your explanation was simple and one that you had said many times whenever asked what you were studying. It seemed you had impressed the table though, and you slightly blushed as a few questions started flying your way. You didn’t notice Cale softly smiling at you while you talked about a topic that you loved so much; he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. His teammates noticed though, and boy were they going to give it to him at practice.    

I love the way that you kiss me In front of everybody So baby come and kiss me They ain't ever seen nothin'

Nothin' like you

           The following day at practice, the guys were giving Cale crap for how head over heels he seemed for you. The fact he hadn’t kissed you yet was another source of ridicule. Everyone who had met you ended up adoring you within the time span that you spent with them at the bar; and they could easily see that their defenseman was taken by you as his cheeks would turn red at the mention of your name. They were all happy for him, but that didn’t mean the chirping would stop.

           They had another home game to play the following day, and Gabe convinced Cale to invite you and have you sit with Mel and Linnea. Later that day Cale went to your apartment and handed you his jersey, asking you to be there for the game. You couldn’t say no to him, not that you wanted to anyways. That Sunday you put on the jersey and headed to the stadium. Meeting Mel at the front, you quickly got along and enjoyed the game. The Avs came out victorious again, and you followed the captain’s wife to the locker rooms. You stepped aside as Gabe made his way over to his wife, feeling a little out of place. Luckily for you, Cale wasn’t far behind.

           He didn’t know if it was from the guys comments or seeing you in his jersey, but one second he was smiling widely at you, then the next his lips were on yours and his hands on your waist. Without a second thought, you kissed him back, your hands holding his face to yours. You were both grinning ear to ear as you separated, chirps flying all around but all in good nature. Giggling, you hid your face in Cale’s chest as his face turned bright red.

Shades on spinning in a summer rain Dancing when there ain’t no music Just the right kind of crazy, baby Something about you Rocking that rock 'n roll t-shirt Whole party dressed up But you just doing your thing Ain't nobody ever seen nothin' like you, yeah

           A year had passed and you were at the end of your grad program. You were set to present your research at the graduate fair, having been selected to present your research on behalf of your department. The Avs were scheduled to be flying back home that day, but Cale wasn’t sure if he would be there in time to see you present. You told him that it was fine, that you understood; and you really did. He was hell bent on making it though. You weren’t that surprised when you saw Cale sneaking into the back of the auditorium. What did surprise you was that half the team had followed him in. Having become good friends with them, they wanted to be there to support you too. As your name was announced, you swear you had the loudest applause.

           You calmly presented your research, smiling at Cale when you finished and a few questions were thrown your way. Having worked so hard, the questions were simple to answer. Finding Cale afterward, he took your poster from you and the two of you made your way to his apartment so he could unpack from the trip. Changing into some leggings and one of his shirts, you showed him the bound copy of your 105 page thesis. He was so proud of you and couldn’t help but share the cover on his Insta story. The two of you cuddle and slept better that night then you had in a while. For him it was being back home with you, and you finally had the stress of your research gone since the first time you met him.  

Nothin' like you Shades on spinning in a summer rain Dancing in the rain no music Nothin' like you Rocking that rock 'n roll t-shirt Whole party dressed up But you just doing your thing Ain't nobody ever seen nothin' like you, yeah

           Once you graduated, Cale asked you to move in with him. You had secured a job at a museum as a curator in their Antient History section. Setting up an exhibit all morning, you met up with Cale at the same coffee shop you had met at two years prior later that day. “Sorry I’m late” you muttered to Cale as you found him. He smiled and gave you a quick kiss.

           “You have nothing to be sorry about. I already put your order in,” he said as you sat across from him, taking a sip of the coffee he got you.

           “You know me so well,” you hummed with a giggle, the caramel latte tasting sweet. Cale grinned at you.

           “Technically, your coffee order was the first thing I learned about you, so I better get that right,” he chuckled. “That and you seemed like a huge nerd.” You faked offense, but laughed anyway.

           “It was all those books that got you. I knew my tactic of sitting in a coffee shop would work for me one day,” you winked at him.

           “It did. I’d never seen nothing like you,” he grinned, reaching into his pocket to take out a small velvet jewelry box.

Never seen, never seen nothin' like you Ain't never seen anything like you Mmm Never seen nothin' like you

Tagging: @yeahcalesy @avsfans95  @tysojost​ 

[sorry-i-ship-drarry]

32. Reasons to not be in love with draco malfoy by harry

Prompt used- caressing the other's back | ANGST/FLUFF | UNREQUITED LOVE | HURT/COMFORT | Eighth year harry finds it hard to admit that he infact loves draco ..

" is it so bad harry that you like him ? " Hermione asked as a sad look dawned upon her tanned face

" what-no- yes- i mean- I don't like him. It's just he has changed so much and it seems unrealistic " harry covered up his tinted face by entailed more into his book

" sure harry, we believe you " Ron sarcastically responded.

" Ron- harry, you know it, you're lying to yourself and what if Draco have actually changed so much. I mean he apologized to me for everything he ever did. That has to be something and it was a genuine apology-"

" apologies doesn't change what he's done. And I don't like Malfoy " harry persisted almost agressively.

Hermione sighed looking at Ron, an indication for him to take the lead.

" mate, I hate him just as much as you do but she's right you know. You can ignore your feelings for how long! One day you would have to face them-"

" so what you want me to just go upto him and ask him out on a date? How blinded can you be ? I will prove that he hasn't changed. I will prove it " with that harry stormed out of the common room to the court yard to be under the sun and complete the rest of his work.

The problem was harry was immensely crushing on draco but it was so hard for him to believe that he'd much rather look for his flaws, it was easier as harry would like to put it. But it was so hard for him to actually look for a single flaw in draco after the war because he had changed completely. Long gone were the days when he used slurs like mudblood, in fact he himself was sending letters to the ministry over and over for stop discriminating against werewolves, muggle borns, squibs, and half bloods. It seemed too good to be true but harry knew he was genuinely doing it but his fainting heart didn't wanted to wake up one day and know that draco had not changed at all, so he chose to still finding his flaws.

2 weeks later upon constant teasing by Ron and Hermione about his research to find something suspicious or something flawed about draco, he realised he was standing in front of a lake which was completely dry. There wasn't even a single flaw and his heart could only take so much.

But he didn't wanted to give up, so during one of his charms lessons, harry took his quill and paper and started writing.

" Reasons not to be in love with draco malfoy "

" ugh.. scratch that " harry mumbled to himself unimpressed

" reasons not to be in love with draco malfoy"

" reasons to hate draco malfoy "

" reasons not to like draco malfoy "

Harry frowned to himself watching the paper, then dipping his quill in ink again and continued writing, only he couldn't. Stuck for minutes, harry looked across the room to see Draco smiling Kindly to a broken handed Neville and writing his notes for him. Harry groaned to himself, " bloody perfect git "

And then he wrote,

" draco malfoy - an absolute prat "

Impressed by himself harry closed his eyes and let himself ponder over every flaw he could muster and desperately failing but he needed something. One damn thing.

But found none.

He placed his hand over the paper once again and started

" 1. The prat have the most fucking Adorable smile. And he doesn't deserve it . It's illegal to have such an adorable smile "

Harry almost smiled at what he wrote but considering his circumstances he refused to. He looked up at Draco once again and continued again.

" 2. The idiot have the most beautiful fingers, bet it's stolen. They're the most fucking annoying thing ever and I can't bloody stop staring at it "

And with that Harry's motive unknowingly changed. He started writing about things about draco that annoyed him.

As week went on harry had listed almost 10 things he found annoying about draco.

" they're not flaws harry " Hermione pressed her lips in thin line to keep herself from laughing.

Blushing in embarrassment harry took the paper away " you wouldn't get it "

And as he started leaving he heard Ron laugh.

And he went back to the courtyard and going through the list once again.

" 3. The git have perfect annoying stormy eyes which makes you dream but also take you somewhere only both us could be "

" 4. He's unbelievably kind to everyone, even filch, how could anyone be this damn kind. Stupid "

" 5. He's got brain. Like actual great brain. He's intellectual, he's fucking smart. Like nobody asked you Smarty pants to be this damn smart "

" 6. He Knows exactly what he's doing. Like the other day in the great hall when he left the tea bag for far too long in his cup of tea, he poured a little of his tea into another cup, added ginger and lemon to his own cup and then some water again. Annoying as fuck "

" 7. He sits by the tree in the courtyard just staring at the damn sky and sometimes even draw it in his little doodle pad covered in leather, with a little blue stone right in the centre. Also half filled. God knows what he draws. Would be pretty fantastic though, considering how much time he spend drawing them and painting it. Hilarious to see him being focused. Idiot "

"8. He visits the professor Dumbledore's grave and just sit there crying. Don't know why I wrote it, just needed to. I understand him.

" 9. He talks with madam pomfrey about potions and their Ill effects. Again trying to be smart. He did help Seamus though after he fell from his broom sometime ago, guess he's got brain afterall "

" 10. He's bloody perfect. His damn face, beautiful as fuck, his nose looks like Micheal Angelo himself carved it on his face, his jawline, fuck, his skin is pale though but the way his skin glows when he's sitting in the courtyard doing something and the way he have a perfect blush. Who's blushing can be perfect ? But damn it, his blush is damn perfect as if something had put on natural flower colour upon his face and the way he have a specific smile for each occassion. The nervous smile, the grin, the quizzical smile, everything just super perfect. Stupid beautiful perfect prat "

Harry sighed understanding Hermione's point but he knew what he had written. This was everything he didn't like about him. Every single one of them, well not everything maybe but most of them.

Harry looked up, keeping the paper in one of his notebooks, to see Draco sitting on one of the pillars seat and reading something.

" prat even looks perfect reading " harry mumbled to him rolling his eyes yet couldn't help his curiosity for what he was reading because he wore probably the most perfect smile harry had seen. He hated to admit but maybe, draco was flawless, at least to him but he didn't wanted to admit. He was determined to find at least one flaw so he could prove them wrong, more him than anyone else. He just needed something flawed in him to convince himself that he wasn't desperately falling for him as his friends liked to say. One flaw, that's all he needed.

Harry kept all of his books inside his rag and decided to just walk around the halls before he'd depart to the common room but just as he had been exiting the courtyard, one thing he didn't wanted it to happen, happened.

" hey, po- harry "

Harry closed his eyes, breathing in before turning around to draco with a warming smile.

" what do you want Malfoy?"

" uh- draco- but nevermind. I wanted to actually ask you something, I mean I shouldn't, considering you still hate me but it's purely theoretical " Draco rambled giving harry a rather nervous smile. Fucking perfect again, harry thought.

" I- I don't hate you Malfoy, old habits die hard kinda thing you know " harry assured himself more than draco.

Draco pressed his lips in a thin line pondering on about what harry had just said.

" you wanted to ask ?" Harry impatiently said

" right- I- I've heard you taught defense in 5th year, including the patronus charm, i- since you've taught a few people I was wondering if you could tell me if people like me can- you know can cast one " draco scratched the back of his neck nervously, the same blush returning to his face again which harry always thought was probably the same shade as that of a cherry blossom..

" what do you mean by people like you ?" Just as the sentence had left his mouth, he realised how wrong had it sounded. Of course he knew what draco had meant but why did he had to ask him and embarrass draco ?

Draco inhaled the air surrounding them, closing his eyes as if he was gaining confidence for what he said next " I meant death eaters "

Harry suddenly felt like his tongue was in knots. He knew the answer but he couldn't reply and while draco looked at harry hopefully, his hope started to die out little by little as he watched harry standing quietly. His eyes suddenly turned from normal grey to something that was clouding him within himself, as if he was now concealing himself, like he was upbraiding himself.

" never mind- think I got my answer. Thank you po- harry. It was great help " draco voice sounded more harsh than it had sounded lately at and harry at once knew had broken draco's heart but before he could've undid his fault, he had scrambled away quickly and harry remained there waiting to get his voice back.

And when it finally did, it had started to rain, harry too scrambled away. Strange how the weather has been perfectly fine when he had first sat down in the courtyard and now it pouring down heavily after the misconception with draco.

Draco's smile was slightly dying out a little bit, and harry knew why but everytime harry ran after draco to correct his mistakes, he was tongue tied. Why was it so hard for harry to simply tell the truth ? Why couldn't he ?

In the mean time After harry had told Hermione and Ron about his faulty interaction with draco, they had stopped teasing and encouraged him to fix it as soon as possible.

It wasn't until during one of the defense classes, things took a better turn.

" now, you all have already learnt about how boggart works. It easily takes shape of what you fear the most but here what we have is pieret, it's a twin of a boggart but it is unusually different. A pieret not only senses your fear but induces in you the pain you'd feel when you're faced with your worst fear. Taking an example, if someone fears death, they would feel nothing Because death feels numb. If someone is afraid of lets say lizards, they'd feel irrational. You must be wondering then if you are faced with a boggart, then Also you'd feel the same thing, the answer is no, we predict what we'd feel, not actually feel while upon being faced with a pieret, it would heavily cast on you the feeling to the point where it may get hard to make sense of anything. However the defense against it is just as simple as that of a boggart,infact it is the same. Riddikulus. Now I would want each of you to clear your head and try not to think of your worst fears and then upon your turn with a blink of an eyes, say the spell and then sit down " the professor explained, not even stopping momentarily for asking students anything, as if he wanted to get done with the lesson. Frankly, everyone wanted the same.

The pieret however turned out to be more stronger than the boggart. Few students had to sit down to relax after their turn. When it finally came down to harry, he cleared his head and tried not to think of his worst fear . He saw the shape twisting and turning into someone very familiar, a scene very familiar. Before harry could cast the spell, the feelings had started to run frantically inside of him. He thought he mumbled something but nothing happened, voldemort was still standing, in his victory. Harry had lost the fight, resulting in huge massacre, everyone disappointed and then suddenly it had gone, now there stood a beautiful pink lily.

Harry immediately collapsed on the ground, breathing heavily.

" drink this " the professor commanded and he obliged, feeling the sensation dying out immediately.

" I need to go " harry hoarsely said and ran out of the room to the washrooms. He reached the same washroom moaning myrtle still resides in but somehow absent currently and he was glad.

Not for long. He soon heard the door open and close and someone walking inside. Harry was about to hex whoever had Walked in until he saw draco had appeared, looked devastating.

" it's only me. We don't want Same things to happen twice" draco announced. Harry immediately lowered his wand, still breathing heavily and becoming very aware of what Draco had said.

" I'd never used that spell again. I wouldn't ever "

" i know " draco gave him a small smile. Harry looked at Draco for a few moments before he sat down against one of the toilet doors, draco cautiously making his steps towards harry and sitting down next to him.

" why are you here ?" Harry finally asked, his knees pressed against his chest, looking up at the ceiling.

" wish I knew " draco responsed aligning himself in the same position as harry and staring up.

Harry hummed, not knowing what he should've answered.

" it's weird " draco suddenly said, a small laugh escaping his lips

" what is ?" Harry asked looking at Draco slightly turning his head to him, watching him staring far ahead.

" how both of our fears are the same "

And he finally turned to harry, with a deep pained expression painted in his dream filled eyes.

Harry quizzically stared at Draco " him gaining victory ?"

" yes and always letting people down. Disappointing them. Having no hope "

Harry was rendered speechless. Until he knew he needed to throw up. He immediately bashed through the door in front of him and puking into the toilet, emptying whatever was inside his body. He suddenly felt a hand on his back caressing him and faint encouragements reaching his ears. When harry was finally done, he leant back pressing his head against the door sighing. Draco's hand has left his back but harry still wanted them there, he didn't know why, but he just wanted that.

" any better ?" He asked. Harry nodded.

" here " draco passed him a bottle of water. Harry rinsed off the smell off his mouth, then drank some of it before flushing the waste away and going back to sitting in the middle alley with draco facing him.

" who do you feel you let down ?" Harry asked frowning at Draco.

Draco looked taken a back by Harry's sudden enquiry but soon comforted himself and began speaking " everyone. I just feel like that even after everything I'm trying to do, after trying so hard to be nice, helping everyone, trying to become a better person, I would still let people down. There will always be Someone who would want to look at my flaws and throw them in my face that no matter what I do, I'd still be draco malfoy the death Eater. I'm always afraid of letting them down, my parents, teachers, the ministry, my friends, classmates, you "

Harry stared at Draco long enough, understanding exactly how he must be feeling but feeling guilty at the same time for doing exactly what draco is fearing but once he had spoken it loud, harry wanting to seek his flaws was thrown out of the window, he just to hug draco right now and tell him that he's doing great.

" I don't hate you draco- I never did. I know you think I do, but I see you. You're trying really hard to become the better person and I can see It happening. If I were you I don't think I'd be able to do that but you, you're brave and confident and courageous to do this everyday. I could never "

" you'd never need to do all that. You already are everything you just said. You don't even need to try " draco gave him a little shrug. Harry's lip immediately turned into a sly smile, realising draco see's him that way, even if it was partially true.

" but you're different. Everyone already praise me, they've always done that. You, you're rising.. that's something much more braver than anything I'd ever done in life"

" are we going to sit here and actually assure each other how we're both doing great " draco joked. Harry immediately broke in a small laughter with draco. Being there with Draco right now was the most perfect thing harry could've ever dreamt of. How could he had possibly thought of wanting to hate draco ? It seemed irrational. Harry was driven by his hatred to find something in draco that didn't even exist and it's not because draco was perfect but because he was working on his flaws. Perfection had never been about being flawless, it has always been in redeeming your flaws. Harry laughed for as Long as he wanted with draco, never wanting this to end. It was a therapy and harry was glad to be a part of it.

When finally the laughter died out harry smiled at draco, picking up his wand and casting the patronus charm.

" my mom's patronus was a doe, mine's a stag. Snape's patronus was a doe too " harry told a pained looking draco until he finally reiterated Harry's words in his head and then it hit him

" he was a death Eater "

" he was " harry replied giving him small smile " a patronus isn't based on discrimination. It doesn't segregate between death eaters and wizard or the bad and the good or the rich and the poor. Patronus is based on a happy memory. I suppose why you'd think death Eaters can't cast a patronus is because they've never known true happiness. If you've ever felt true happiness in your life, you can cast one. There's both light and dark inside of us, it is what we chose to act upon, that's who we are. You're not a bad person draco, you never were and i know one day you'll be as to cast it. I'd liked to help if I can in anyways "

Draco stared at harry In surprise, his expressions changing to one filled with hope and turning into a smile.

" I'd like that " draco responded nodding.

" then we'll practice the spells whenever you'd like" harry smiled before he started putting things in his rag, after hearing the bell to finally get up to leave.

" draco "

" yeah"

" thank you . I- this was different- and just thank you " harry smiled hanging his rag on his shoulder.

Draco smiled nodding at him, getting up himself.

With a deep breath harry finally turned around to leave, smiling to himself, thinking of how he could just burn the list now.

" harry- you dropped something "

Harry turned around to see Draco holding a piece of paper.

Fuck.

Draco furrowed his eyebrows as his eyes fell upon the words inked on it. Harry immediately hustled in his bag to look for that one specific sheet. No, no, no,no ...

Draco looked up at harry quizzically " reasons to .... "

PART 2 | Requests open

Day 31 - would you come back to me ? | Day 33- tasting their smile

[kitkatopinions]

The sad thing is that Blake's most healthiest option romance wise is someone who gives her space and willing to let her go. Sun fits this description perfectly. But they went with a codependent toxic relationship partially held together by guilt in which one side is clearly submissive and the other too worried and insecure.

Yeah, tbh, the send off to Sun at the start of volume six made me think they would pick up the relationship where it left off eventually for a couple different reasons, but one of them was this reason.

I want to preface this post by saying that A. I don’t really like Bumblebee and I don’t need a reason to dislike it even though I have reason to dislike it, B. I’ve shipped BlackSun from Sun’s first introduction, and C. also I’m coming at this as someone who has been in a co-dependent relationship, so all three of those things means I’m naturally a little biased. I’m not pretending this is all a super objective, impersonal interpretation. This is just me talking honestly about my thoughts towards a ship I don’t like. Bees, I’m sorry if this shows up in your tags, Tumblr is being screwy and I’m not trying to rain on anyone else’s posts. I’m using filterables and putting this under a keep reading to try and make it easier for Bumblebee fans to not see this.

I had - when I saw season six’s opening ep - given the show mad props for writing a romance driven relationship where the partners didn’t have to stay together all the time to still care about each other and be secure. It felt like the perfect move to me to get some distance between their characters while firmly establishing that Sun had never done the things he’d done ‘to win the girl,’ and didn’t consider himself ‘letting Blake go.’ Sun not only being willing to spend this time away from Blake, but to not even need it really said, and to have his own stuff he needed to do as well... All of that felt like a healthy, independent relationship. I don’t mean to get personal on main, but I’ve been in a relationship where I felt partially responsible for my partner’s happiness and he tried to do things like keep me from my friends or guilt me into things. I ignored the red flags because our relationship was important to me, but it made me feel pretty unhappy because I was always worried that if I didn’t do the things he wanted, he would get upset and over-react, and put himself down until I built him back up, and if we didn’t spend the majority of our time together, he would start talking about feeling like I didn’t really care that much about him and how lonely he felt. This was really exhausting to me, especially since I’m an introvert.

Sun always seemed like such a good partner for Blake because he was always so self-possessed, so confident in who he was already, independent and happy and accepting of Blake’s independence. Sun was always there for Blake, but he also was the one usually pushing her towards interacting with others too, they were able to go do separate things and even go on completely different missions with confidence and without drama. For a character who had previously been in a destructive, possessive, controlling, abusive relationship, it had seemed like a scene that clearly established Blake and Sun’s relationship as one where Sun wasn’t expecting Blake to stay with him all the time, respected her goals and her independence, and had his own life and his own friends too. I had kind of just assumed that the choice to have Sun leave the group and go to Vacuo was to further their relationship. Upon rewatching the scene later now that I know that the writers were already starting to try to implement Bumbleby, I can see how the show writers might’ve been intending that scene to be an amiable goodbye where Sun confirms to Neptune that they aren’t actually an item with his ‘it was never about that.’ But I just have to shake my head, because I was giving the writers credit for something they didn’t do.

Instead, they were trying to tie off the relationship between Sun and Blake by having him leave, not cementing Blake’s independence and Sun’s encouragement of that (and they tied it off badly imo because Blake freakin’ kissed the boy lol.) And once they had Sun leave, they started setting Blake up with Yang. I want to clarify that there’s nothing wrong with the writers deciding to go with Blake x Yang, and the ship itself was not a totally baseless one. I’m personally disappointed that one of my favorite RWBY ships isn’t going to be endgame, and I personally don’t like the idea of Blake and Yang as a couple. But my problem isn’t really with the ship itself, it’s with how the show writers have chosen to write the ship in execution.

Getting past the queerbaitery nature of Bumblebee as a ship, the choices surrounding Blake and Yang seem faulty on both sides (which I also think is important to remember. I’ve seen loads of people recognizing that Bumblebee as written in the show is destructive to Blake, but I’ve seen much fewer people talk about how it’s not the best for Yang too.)

Let’s start from the fact that Blake is an abuse victim. She was previously in a relationship with Adam and talks about his destructive and violent behavior. Blake has a really hard time trusting people because of how Adam had acted. He was explosive, manipulative, and he got angry at and hurt Blake specifically for leaving him. The last thing Blake would need is a relationship where she feels personally responsible for the stability of another person. The last thing she needs is to be pressured into staying with someone. The last thing she needs is to be expected to be with that person without the option of ever working with others. The last thing she needs is to be in a relationship where she can’t be apart from someone even temporarily without that person getting anxious and insecure or without having to feel guilty and like she did something wrong.

And yet the show has her in a relationship with someone that has abandonment issues. The show has her promise to stay with Yang in a moment of huge trauma, Blake crying out a desperate denial to the accusations of the abusive ex who had made her life hell, after he tried to again separate her from anyone she loved and she was forced to kill someone she had once deeply cared about. It was also a really weird choice of the writers to have the characters respond to a question over if they’d ever thought about working with other partners with dismissive and cold behavior as if the very idea was somehow wrong (especially since Yang spent quite a bit of time pre-volume six working with Weiss and Blake spent so much of her time working with Sun.) And the writers chose to frame Blake and Yang leaving on temporary separate missions in volume eight to result in insecurity and anxiety from Yang and guilt for Blake. On top of that, Yang is a person with a strong temper and aggressive tendencies. Although she seemed to be trying to work through those problems in seasons four and five, Yang backslid and seems just as controlled by her anger and her insecurities as her volume 2 self now, who had lashed out at Blake and angrily pushed her for not listening in ‘burning the candle.’

As for Yang, she lost her mom when she was very young (Ruby was a toddler,) and her dad temporarily shut down after that. She soon found out her biological mom had left her when she was a baby and spent her whole life wondering why while her uncle spent that time flitting in and out of her life and taking on dangerous missions - the same types of missions that had killed the woman who had raised Yang for the first part of her life. Yang has deep seeded fears of being abandoned and losing her loved ones, and she also has a history of trying to take care of and support the people around her even at her own personal expense. While Yang’s more selfless moments in season five - like giving up her dream of getting answers from Raven to follow and protect Ruby even when she clearly wasn’t wholly healed from her trauma - are admirable, what Yang absolutely doesn’t need in a partner is someone who she feels like she has to protect and save and sacrifice for. What Yang absolutely doesn’t need in a partner is someone she feels like she can’t rely on to be there for her. What she doesn’t need in a partner is someone who can’t give her stability or struggles to trust her. What she doesn’t need in a partner is someone who won’t call her out when she goes a little too far. And yet the writers chose to put Yang with someone who runs on the regular, the only member of their team who thought Yang might be lying about Mercury, someone who needs time and distance when Yang clearly needs someone who is consistent and present. And then the writers made it so that Yang and Blake spend very little time with anyone else. The writers made it so that they can’t be apart without guilt and anxieties.

And you guys, Blake in seasons 6-8 feels so needy. She’s consistently in need of saving, consistently doesn’t stand for herself, seems like she needs a lot of reassurance in her relationship, she’s consistently waiting for other people to make moves, etc. Even when Blake convinces Yang to divulge top secret information to Robyn, when Ironwood confronts them about it, Blake backs up and leaves Yang to explain their actions. In the early seasons, it feels like Yang cares more about their friendship than Blake does and that she’s putting in more effort, which don’t get me wrong, makes total sense since Blake had just gotten out of an abusive relationship and Yang’s clear anger problems (and her using a laser pointer to try and force Blake to talk to her,) might’ve made Blake hesitant to get close to or open up to Yang. But while it no longer feels like Yang cares more, it still feels like Yang puts in more work. Yang is constantly reassuring, protecting, comforting, and stepping up for Blake, while Blake is so passive and acts so dependent that I personally can’t help but feel like Yang must be exhausted. Yang needs stability and reassurance too, Yang needs a partner she can talk to and rely on to be there. When the writers did write Blake as trying to comfort and take care of Yang, it was way too much and had undertones of ableism. And I know, I know they had this ‘we’re taking care of each other’ moment when they were fighting Adam, but that’s just what we were told for one scene, and not what we’ve actually seen in their relationship.

The worst thing is that it didn’t need to be that way. Bumbleby could’ve been a really good ship that built on their foundation. Blake used to be an independent, brave, strong, active character. Blake stood up for herself to Weiss, told Ozpin to his face that he needed to do more for the Faunus, used to have a great, creative fighting style, used to be this sassy girl who’d banter with Sun and with Yang and when she did start opening up to Yang, it was a great way to start evolving their characters to be a strong relationship. In V3 when Blake admitted that she had doubts about Yang due to her past experiences with Adam, but opened herself up and decided to trust Yang anyway when Yang looked her in the eyes and told her sincerely exactly what had happened... That was so great and it really showed off the dynamic the two of them were starting to adapt. CRWBY might’ve immediately separated the two, but A. Seasons four and most of season five had great set up for them to work through their problems and then continue to grow that great dynamic we started seeing in the first three seasons. And B. their respective arcs continued their growth as characters even apart from each other. While I wish that RWBY had let the two work some of this out together, the growth that we were getting did make them more suited for each other. I’ll always ship BlackSun. But Yang getting a hold on her emotions, maturing, starting to work through her abandonment issues, and displaying just what a caring, honest person she was, at the same time that Blake was working through her past and her fears, learning to let people in, strengthening her resolve, and coming into her own as a leader... Come on, those two characters could’ve easily developed a good, healthy, strong, independent relationship and I’m legitimately sad that’s not what we got, especially since we sacrificed so much of Blake’s personality to get a worse ship.

I don’t even know what to say about it, tbh. Idk what else the writers expected us to think with how they wrote things. I’ve heard before that there was probably a cut scene in volume eight that included Yang and Blake fighting (which would then justify Yang and Blake’s reactions when they reunited,) and I do believe that, but the writers chose not to include it, and that made them look worse as a couple. Just like they chose not to include a scene where Blake and Yang work through the problem of Blake having left Yang without a word of explanation at the end of Volume 3. And they didn’t include a scene where Blake explains herself and Yang realizes that maybe she was being a little shortsighted about the trauma Blake had also gone through. And they didn’t include a scene where Blake actually learned that she didn’t have to protect or take care of Yang in volume six. And they haven’t included a scene where Blake puts just as much effort into their relationship as Yang does. And they didn’t include a scene where the two make it clear that they’re fine being apart. If anything, CRWBY has established the opposite, and it isn’t enough to just say that they’re taking care of each other, when they don’t show that to be the case. 

Sun being not only willing to let Blake be with others, go her own way, and be her own person, but encouraging of that, made him a very compelling romantic prospect for her. Unfortunately I just don’t see that with Blake and Yang. Their relationship feels co-dependent, and maybe it’s just my personal experience talking and making me chafe, but I personally just don’t like it.

However, fans have been queerbaited long enough. So personal opinions aside, CRWBY give Bumblebee some confirmation you fucking cowards.