#Please note: This AU was made like... Forever ago and I never fully thought out all the details. And even now things are subject to change

[star-hoon]

VERSION OF ME — (p. sunghoon)

"CAN YOU LOVE THE VERSION OF ME, I DON'T LET ANYBODY ELSE SEE?"

— MASTERLIST

pairing: sunghoon x fem reader (oneshot)

includes/warnings (16+):  comfort/healing from dark past! au — fluff, angst, profanity, comfort, implied reader has scars, mentions of food/eating  (let me know if i missed anything!)

word count: 1.8k [not proofread]

synopsis: you and sunghoon have been dating for a few months now and he is the definition of your prince charming. but you are finally forced to uncover what you've been hiding from him, and it makes you fear you’ll lose him.

DISCLAIMER: this fic does mention/imply reader has SH scars. it is mentioned without detail and sunghoon is comforting reader about them. *as someone who used to SH, i would never ever mean to trigger anyone. so if this could potentially trigger you, do not read/please proceed with caution.*

author’s note: omg thank you to everyone who read my 'obsessed' & 'intermission' AND for over 110 followers!

i hope you're all okay with this fic idea even its a little on the darker side. but i promise its fluffy n hoon is a sweetie. this one is dedicated to all of you out there who have overcome hardships in the past or dealing with hardships right now, with physical or mental scars. you are so strong, beautiful, and loved!! <3

VERSION OF ME SOUNDTRACK

it was yet the end of another long and arduous day at work. you dragged your feet into the doorway of your apartment, hanging up your bag on the hook in the entry way and removing your shoes that you could feel were forming blisters on your heels.

sighing, you make a beeline to your bedroom. nothing sounded better than a hot shower to change into some comfy clothes. well, maybe one thing sounded better.

cuddling with your boyfriend sunghoon. and his deep voice and hearty laugh. and his silly puns and dad jokes. and him getting so excited talking about film cameras. just—him.

you had never been one to be very clingy nor dependent with your boyfriends. you just valued your own time and pursuing your own goals, but that doesn't mean you care about them any less.

that's why when you and sunghoon started dating 4 months ago, you felt something click in that regard. he fully understood your introverted ways and wouldn't be like the previous guys and complain about feeling 'neglected' or that you were too cold because he knew exactly how it felt to need alone time/your own space and he respected it.

but even still, when you are together he treats you like an absolute princess. carrying your purse for you when you go shopping, opening the car door for you, standing on the side of the sidewalk that faces the street. he also emotionally cared for you, listening to you rant about things big and small and always reassuring you the day before you have a big presentation at work. you felt so deeply cared for and understood, it made your affection for him blossom even more every day.

today was a day that both you and sunghoon had busy schedules so you weren't going to see each other. but you missed him and wanted nothing more than his comforting presence to fill your currently empty apartment.

you made your way to the bathroom, removing your uncomfortable work clothes. as you stood there uncovered you caught sight of yourself in the mirror. you stared down at your arms, the dark marks that littered your skin. you knew you couldn't hide this from him forever.

before you could let any more negative thoughts consume you, you hopped into the shower hoping the hot water can wash away your stress and worries.

after your shower that probably lasted a little too long in some water that was probably a little too hot, you heard a knock at your front door. you peeked to the corner of your phone amidst the tik tok scrolling 10:38 pm.

considering how late it was you were suspicious so you tiptoed to the front door, glancing through the peep hole. it was sunghoon. even though you should feel giddy and excited at the sight of your boyfriend, a twinge of panic arose. you were just wearing a tshirt so your arms were fully exposed, not expecting company. you ran and grabbed the first hoodie you could find. it happened to be one of his.

you opened the front door and there sunghoon stood as handsome as ever, with a bouquet of flowers and a takeout bag. you pouted at the sight in front of you—you were the luckiest girl alive. this was exactly what you needed after a day like today.

"hi hoonie" you softly greeted him, gently hugging him and he leaned down to give you a peck on the cheek. "...what's all this?"

he spoke as he took off his shoes and made his way into the kitchen. "sorry for dropping by so suddenly, i knew weren't planning on seeing each other today but i knew you had a long day and you were gonna be home late so i thought you would want some food. it's your favorite from the restaurant downtown." you nearly started crying, how could be so sweet?

"don't be sorry. thank you, you are seriously the best hoon i missed you a lot today."

"i missed you too. just sit and relax baby, i'll plate everything up for you" sunghoon always insisted on plating food even if it was takeout. he believed it made it taste better, the notion always made you laugh.

despite offering to split the meal with him, he insisted he didn't want any saying he ate dinner earlier. but as you two sat at the dining table chatting about your day, you fed him forkful after forkful anyways.

after finishing the meal you convinced sunghoon to let you wash the dishes. he eventually complied, standing next to you at the sink drying the 3 total dishes you had to wash.

no matter how small the gesture sunghoon was willing to do anything and everything to make it easier for you. you were convinced he came straight out of a fairytale—but your fantasy was going to come crashing down.

"y/n...why do you never roll up your sleeves when you wash the dishes? they're gonna get all wet!" his tone playful.

"i-its fine hoon, these are just a few dishes anyways" you try force a small laugh as a chill runs down your spine.

"come on sweetheart lemme roll 'em up for you..."

"i said it fine-"

his hand reaches towards your sleeves, pulling them up your arm slightly. you reflexively move away from him, your mind went into overdrive.

"SUNGHOON STOP! I SAID IT'S FINE!" your arm harshly shoved his body away from yours, the glass you were holding flying out of your hand. the sound of the glass shattering on the kitchen floor seemed to echo in the room.

silence fell between you two. your eyes wide and brimming with tears, your chest heaving from your heavy breathing. all you could was cup your hands over your mouth, your eyes looking at the broken glass a few feet away from you and then to your boyfriend. his expression made you sick. he has never looked at you this way. you couldn't tell if he was scared, angry, sad. it didn't matter.

"hoon i-i'm so so sorry, i didn't mean to push you. fu-fuck the glass i'm sorry i'll clean it up" large streams of tears flowed down your cheeks and you managed to get the sentence out in between sobs.

you felt yourself spiraling. you dropped to your knees and crawled towards the broken glass. the sight of the the pieces blurry from your tears and you picked up the pieces with your hands and putting the shards in your palm.

sunghoon was more confused than angry at you, it all happened so fast he barely had time to react. but seeing you pick up the shards of glass with your bare hands snapped him back to reality. he dropped down in front of you on the floor.

"baby stop! what're you doing?! you'll hurt yourself" his voiced laced with concern. he put a hand on your arm and cupped the side of your face with his other hand, wiping the tears away with him thumbs.

you couldn't stop the tears from escaping you. you couldn't believe what you just did. sunghoon was just trying to do a sweet, innocent gesture for you and in the end you hurt him. you didn't deserve him. you knew you couldn't hide it from him forever but you didn't think it would all end like this.

he leaned his forehead to yours, searching to meet your eyes. you just couldn't look at him.

"please y/n, what's going on?" his eyes wide and he pleaded for an answer. catching your breath after what felt like countless sobs, you gently placed the shards back on the floor.

"i need to tell you something hoon."

you followed sunghoon's order to meet in your room as he swept up the broken glass. you sat on your bed as you prepared how you were going to explain all of this.

you didn't want to lose him. he was the best thing that has ever happened to you. all you could imagine was his mortified or disgusted face when he sees your arms. the thought made all your tears resurface. sunghoon sat down next to you on your bed.

"i'm sorry for pushing you hoon. i shouldn't have done that." you took a deep breath before continuing.

"i-i've been hiding something from you since we met. i knew i couldn't h-hide it forever, but i never knew how or when to tell you." you didn't know what else to say to explain. you silently pulled up the sleeves of his hoodie you were wearing.

your arms illuminated by the lamp on your bedside table. silent tears ran down your face as you exposed yourself to him. you have never felt so vulnerable, bare, and scared in your entire life.

"sunghoon i-" before you could say anything else, he pulled you into a silent embrace. one hand pushing your waist to be flush against him, and the other to the nape of your neck.

you eventually muster up the courage to pull away to look up at him. silent tears flowed down sunghoon's cheeks. your eyes widened, sunghoon never cried. your lip quivered at the sight. it was your turn to wipe the tears from his cheek as he did for you earlier.

"um i don't really know what else to say but this explains why i've always covered up my arms around you, why i never was intimate with you...even though i really really wanted to..." you let out a chuckle through your cries trying to lighten the mood.

"...i-i'm sorry i'm such a mess. i know you probably didn't want this going into the relationship. i just- i'm so sorry hoon... i get it if this too much for you."

"you don't have anything to be sorry for y/n..." he grabbed your hand to lace it together with his.

"...this is definitely not an easy thing to share. it just breaks my heart to see someone so kind, smart, and beautiful could do this to herself" he kissed your lips, one of his salty tears landed on your lips.

he used your currently intertwined hands to lift up your arms, placing gentle yet tender kisses to each mark on your arms, your breath hitching at his every touch. this was the first time anyone has been so close, seen you at the most vulnerable. and yet he is treating you like you are made of porcelain.

"this isn't too much y/n. i still think you are the most beautiful person i've ever met—inside and out. this is just a reminder or how strong you are and you overcame whatever you faced in the past. i hope one day you can open up and confide in me because i'm here for you baby. through the good and the bad, especially the bad. because i love you."

your heart melted at his comforting and sincere words, now shedding tears of joy.

"i-i love you too hoon, thank you"

taglist (open!): @laylasbunbunny @blackberryrains

ramblings: this made me so soft and healed my past self 🥺 would you guys like to see more full fics/series or oneshots like this?

thank you so much for reading, please let me know what you think <3

reblogs, likes, & comments are always appreciated!!

[demigod-shenanigans]

Some stupid thoughts about Valgrace and Fierrochase meeting that I had a while ago:

-No idea how well Alex actually speaks Spanish because we only hear him speak it once very briefly at the beginning of the third book but the thought of Alex and Leo rambling rapid-fire Spanish at each other and everyone promptly ducking in the other direction is extremely amusing to me (Jason leaves to get a med kit. Magnus leaves and doesn’t come back because he may be a healer but he’s not getting in the middle of whatever this is, thanks)

-someone carefully goes into Alex’s room later to check what the two of them are up to. It turns out they’re not even doing anything dangerous, they’re just testing if Leo’s fire powers can be misused for clay firing purposes

-Something something Alex Magnus and Leo all being former homeless kids who are now working to help other homeless kids.

-Leo has definitely at one point had a conversation with Magnus that involved stuff like “top five worst bridges to sleep under”

-Magnus being incredibly afraid of wolves. Jason being raised by wolves. I bet that would lead to some very awkward and funny interactions.

-Thinking primarily of a scene where they’re on a mission of some kind and Jason just snarls at whatever wolf they’re dealing with until it backs off. Alex and Magnus have no idea what just happened. Magnus is terrified of Jason when he makes that expression but also wants to keep the human wolf repellant around forever please and thank you.

-On a similar note, Jason trying to teach Alex that specific wolf scowl. Alex is shape-shifted into a wolf and tries to get it right but cannot quite manage. Jason keeps saying stuff like “show off your fangs more” and “jaw a little more like this” except he’s fully human so Alex has a really hard time trying to translate what Jason is doing into the actual animal features. They spend like an hour just practice scowling at each other. Leo walks into the room at one point and is extremely confused and also a little afraid to ask

-Alex and Magnus absolutely casually kill each other during training exercises sometimes. Leo and Jason would literally never, even knowing they’ll resurrect just fine later if they do. Both couples think the others are the ones being weird.

Tagging @helyeahmangocheese (I hope this is okay) since this post had been sitting around in my drafts collecting dust for ages before your AU shenanigans made me think of it again. (If you want to use any of this please feel free to)

[kittysuicoffee]

I posted 533 times in 2022

That's 92 more posts than 2021!

191 posts created (36%)

342 posts reblogged (64%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@kittysuicoffee

@mikoriin

@miraculous-prompts

@artblockandfeverdreams

@figdays

I tagged 477 of my posts in 2022

Only 11% of my posts had no tags

#my art - 267 posts

#miraculous ladybug - 174 posts

#miraculous ladybug and chat noir - 127 posts

#reblog - 119 posts

#lila rossi - 106 posts

#ml lila - 62 posts

#miraculous ladybug au - 57 posts

#miraculous fandom - 55 posts

#not my art work - 43 posts

#miraculous ladybug oc - 42 posts

Longest Tag: 138 characters

#please note: this au was made like... forever ago and i never fully thought out all the details. and even now things are subject to change

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Ladybug! Lila! @artblockandfeverdreams I hope you like it check out there liars luck au it really interesting!

24 notes - Posted April 15, 2022

#4

I drew spider mommy… I love her #poppyplaytime

27 notes - Posted February 23, 2022

#3

@arcadeology I am not done yet but what do you think?

32 notes - Posted March 29, 2022

#2

Sunny day jack? How about gloomy day jack!

… I’ll leave

32 notes - Posted April 4, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

I made a color me adopted! They are bunny moth! They are free!

32 notes - Posted August 2, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[voicehydrangea]

Can you tell me more about your butterlair au? I love the design of Lila. What is Lila’s goal in the au? It is similar to hawkmoth goal?

I'm just kidding, lol.

Okay, so... Gonna give some setting and context first.

The Butterfliar AU is an AU based in an hypothetical future in which Lila, after doing some soul searching and traveling, comes back to a Hawkmothless Paris. With your Villain gone, there's really no need for Heroes. And the more Lila gets comfortable in her new/old setting, the more she just... Wants a little bit of chaos.

Don't get me wrong, she's matured. She knows how to empathize with people, she can let go most of things in a healthy adult way, and though she hasn’t entirely beat the habit... She can go a full day without telling a single lie. But a part of her yearns for this... Action. Something that's a picture-worthy moment. But in it's essence, she desires to capture the very thing that spiraled her as a teenager, the thrill of living everyday seeing these dramatic scenes play out. But without a Villain,,, there's no need for these scenes. They don't even happen.

It starts at a job, where she was hired as a photographer for a Fashion Show featuring Marrinette's Fashions. A simple enough job, just photograph the modles, get the right angles, so on. But a break is initiated and Lila feels... Compelled to go backstage. Something pulls at her very being to just go... Take a peak. So, always weak to her impulses, Lila listens.

And I'm not sure why the Butterfly Miraculous was there, why it was left unattended, but it was. And before she could even think, she was almost caught. She panicked, grabbed the box, and ran. And the rest was History the moment she opened the box and met Nooroo.

With this box in her hand, the pin proudly displayed and this tiny... Confused purple creature before her. And the explanation that followed from it of what it was, as well as the looming threat of what would happen if she was caught trying to return it; hey'd know. Her career would be over and she just couldn't have that. But also... She now had the power to... Create the scenes she desired to capture. And really, the Public needed role models, heroes. She'd be doing them a service by stepping into the shoes Hawkmoth had left to fill. Of course, she would avoid outright damaging or hurting others, but...

It would be a shame not to use this new knowledge and power, right? A waste, even!

Extra notes:

>Lila is a phrotographer, and does freelance jobs as well as ones that are licensed. Photography was a hobby while she traveled, but it was something she had learned to genuinely enjoy as it showed something that could be honest if taken in a moment. But still could be staged just as beautifully. Both sides intruiged her, and so she pursued it as her career.

>Lila and Nooroo actually get along pretty well. She's never once mistreated him, and treats him as a close friend. But also makes no effort to hide him. Most people think she's schizophrenic or something.

>Lila views herself as a Necessary Evil, and honestly doesn't hold any truly ill will. Is it to hide her selfish desires and maybe deal with some unchecked trauma? Absolutely. But she has yet to figure that out for herself.

>It's uncertain if Marinette knows that Lila is the same Lila from her youth. But Lila certainly does, so the few times they've interacted has been... Awkward.

Some sketches <3

[bluejayblueskies]

Jonmartin with 20 or 76 for the kiss prompts!

kiss prompt list!

20 - surprised kiss | 76 - top of head kisses

this is both! ft. domestic married jmart in a no-supernatural au

.

A small mmrp! is the only warning Martin gets before something very fluffy and very orange jumps onto the kitchen counter beside him.

 “Hey, no,” Martin chides, scooping the as-yet-unnamed cat into his arms and lowering him gently to the ground. He points a stern finger at the small, curious face staring up at him and says, “I know you’re new here, but you’ll have to learn the house rules eventually. And I know I’ll have to be the one to enforce them, because the moment Jon sees your cute little face he’s going to just- just let you do whatever you please.”

 The cat lets out another mmrp before rubbing his face affectionately against Martin’s leg.

 “Right,” Martin says with a soft smile, crouching down and scratching underneath the cat’s chin. “You haven’t met him yet, but Jon’s going to love you. You’re just going to have to- to look at him and he’ll love you.” Quieter, to himself, Martin mumbles, “I hope he’ll love you.”

 A cat isn’t a typical anniversary gift, sure, but it’s not like they hadn’t been talking about it. They’d looked into a few shelters, made a list of the things they’d need to buy in order to make their flat pet-friendly, but Jon’s workload had increased drastically a few weeks ago and discussions had fallen to the wayside. Martin had spent a frankly ridiculous amount of time scanning through Jon’s meticulous notes about preferred breeds, ages, and dispositions before spending an even more ridiculous amount of time visiting every shelter within a 50-kilometer radius of them.

 He may also have two cardboard boxes full of cat toys, food, litter, and other items stowed away in the back of the linens closet. He’s nothing if not prepared.

The quiet thump of paws on marble drags Martin out of his thoughts, and he looks up to see the cat stood atop the counter again, tail swishing back and forth with excitement.

 “No,” Martin says, standing and lifting the cat carefully up so he can look him firmly in the eyes. “We do not jump on the counter. The counter is where we cook, and Jon stress-cleans enough as it is—we don’t need to give him the extra incentive.”

 The cat’s mouth stretches open in a wide yawn, revealing rows of sharp teeth, before blinking passively at him.

 “Right,” Martin says again with a resigned nod. He tucks the cat against his chest experimentally, feeling the rumbling purr against his skin, and presses his nose into the soft orange fur on the nape of the cat’s neck. “Did you know that Jon and I got married a year ago today? Oh, of course not, you're a cat. Well, we did. Honestly, though, it- it feels like yesterday. Things since then have just been… nice. Christ, so nice, and- and I love him, you know? You’re going to love him too—he’s got this, like, this thing where cats just adore him on sight. Tim likes to call him the ‘cat whisperer,’ and Jon pretends like it annoys him because, heh, you know, otherwise it would go right to Tim’s head, but Jon adores you guys. With your- your little paws, and your little ears, and your- ow, ow, your claws—"

 Martin gently, yet gracelessly, lets the cat spill free from his arms and onto the lino. He rubs at his arm, gives the cat a stern look, and says, “Is that any way to treat your father?”

 The cat looks up at him and meows loudly.

 “Don’t talk back,” Martin says with faux disappointment, crossing his arms across his chest. After a moment, his resolve breaks, and he bends down to scratch between the cat’s ears gently, a fond smile spreading across his face.

 Martin’s halfway back to standing when the doorknob rattles. His first thought is oh, Jon’s home early. Then: wait, Christ, nothing’s ready yet. Then: shit, the cat!

 Martin’s reflexes are, predictably, less acute than the fluffy apex predator who’s currently making his way to the front door at breakneck speed, meowing loudly enough that Martin’s sure Jon can already hear it through the still-closed door. Martin has just enough time to take a few, anxious steps toward the door before it swings open and Jon shoulders his way through, arms laden with stacks of folders and books and papers. Martin decides that he'll chide Jon for bringing work home on their anniversary later and instead prioritizes coming up with a speech he thought he still had several hours to prepare in approximately five seconds.

 “Oh, hello,” Jon says, kicking the door shut behind him and rearranging the pile of work in his hands so it doesn’t slip. “Elias let me go early—albeit with a mountain of paperwork, good Lord—so I thought I’d…”

 He trails off as a small, insistent mmrp! cuts through the air. Martin squeezes his eyes shut and says, quietly, “Ah, right. That’s… that’s nice of him?”

 “I… I suppose,” Jon says, sounding a bit lost. There’s a shuffling noise, and Martin opens his eyes a crack to see Jon depositing the stack of papers on the side table by the couch before turning, slowly, back to the cat. “Is… sorry, I- I’m not… is there meant to be a cat in our flat?”

 The cat meows, and Martin says weakly, “Happy anniversary?”

 “Oh,” Jon says. Then, after a moment, his mouth curves into a small smile, and he repeats, softly, “Oh.”

 Jon crouches down and shifts so he’s kneeling on the ground, sitting back on his heels that way Martin’s never been flexible enough to do. “Hello,” he says quietly, holding out a hand for the cat to sniff. “And who might you be?”

 “He doesn’t have a name yet,” Martin says, still reeling from the abruptness of the last thirty seconds. “I- I thought… you might like to name him?”

 Jon hums in thought, letting the cat push his head into his hand before beginning to scratch gently underneath his chin. “I… I don’t really know,” he says. “Georgie was always the one who was good at naming, I- I just sort of went along with it for the Admiral.”

 “Could always go generic,” Martin suggests, feeling his heart swell with affection as the cat yawns again and Jon’s face lights up. “You know, like- like Whiskers, or…”

 Jon gives Martin an unimpressed look. “Certainly not. That would be like naming our child… Leg, or something equally ridiculous.”

 Martin tries to ignore the way his heart stutters at the words our child and says, in a small voice, “Yeah, that… that would be silly.”

 Jon’s expression folds into something soft and fond, and he says, “I’ve… I’ve always been partial to Clarence, if… if that’s all right with you, I suppose.”

 Something must show on Martin’s face, because Jon quickly clarifies, “For- for the cat, that is, not, er- not for a… an actual child—”

 “Yeah, yeah, of course,” Martin says quickly, his cheeks growing hot.

 “—because- because Clarence isn’t really- well, it’s, it’s not bad, it’s just, I don’t—”

 “—absolutely, yes, I- I agree, one-hundred percent—”

 “—just, just for… for the cat.”

 “Mm-hmm,” Martin says in a high-pitched voice, fully giving up on pretending like his face isn’t flushed a bright red. His mouth twitches up into a smile, almost against his will, and he says, “For the cat. Of course.”

 “Of course,” Jon echoes. The moment of silence between them is broken by an accusatory meow, and Jon’s laugh at that is something that Martin wants to bottle up and treasure forever. “My apologies, Clarence,” he says, scooping the cat up in his arms and pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head. “I wasn’t giving you nearly enough attention. A grievous error on my part.”

 “You’re going to spoil him,” Martin says teasingly. “He’ll be insufferable.”

 Clarence lets out a happy chirp of agreement.

 Carefully, Jon stands, Clarence still tucked securely in his arms, and steps closer so he can press a soft, lingering kiss to Martin’s lips. “Thank you,” he whispers, pulling back just enough that he can rest his forehead against Martin’s. “I love you.”

 “I love you too,” Martin says.

 There’s a disgruntled mmrp, and Jon’s mouth curves into an amused smile. “I love you as well,” he says, giving Clarence another kiss on the top of his head. Then, teasingly: “Maybe even a bit more than your father.”

 Martin lets out a long, exaggerated groan. “I can’t believe this. Less than five minutes in our home and you’re already stealing my husband from me.” He reaches over and scratches Clarence’s belly fondly. “Disrespectful. Utterly abhorrent.”

 Clarence makes a pleased little noise before starting to purr audibly.

 “We’ll need food,” Jon says absently, one hand scratching underneath Clarence’s chin. “Litter, bowls, toys…”

 Martin grins, a bit giddily. “Oh, way ahead of you.”

[luvdsc]

mark lee sucks at technology.

tap the heart if you have a big, fat, embarrassing crush on your best friend!

pairing :: lee mark x reader genre :: fluff / best friend + social influencer au word count :: 5,883 words warnings :: none playlist :: dumb stuff (lany) ⋆ feeling (coin) ⋆ so far so good (gabrielle aplin) ⋆ electric love (børns) ⋆ love by mistake (bad suns) author’s note :: i was debating if i should post it on his bday instead, but i decided to drop it earlier, so uh, happy (approx. one week early) bday to mister absolutely fully capable (except when it comes to tech stuff) !!!! thank you for blessing us with your god tier raps ♡ ↳ part of the not clickbait series.

In your required upper division business course aptly titled “Essential Marketing Strategies,” you had learned about a concept called personal brands. A personal brand is explained as the first impression a person wishes to perceive based on their own experiences, qualifications, and achievements. Your professor had told you and your classmates to pick three words to define your own brand. For instance, you chose to label yourself as charismatic, fun, and creative.

Your best friend’s brand would be awkward, endearing, and technologically challenged. 

Okay, so that is definitely more than three words, but who’s counting? You might as well tack on “Y/N’s big fat crush” at this rate because everyone and their mother knows that you carry a torch—or more accurately, a blazing wildfire that can easily be spotted from Pluto—for your best friend.

Well, to be more precise, you should probably say everyone, except Mark, knows. And that’s not for lack of trying either. You completely dropped the art of delicate subtlety months ago already. Maybe you should add “hopelessly oblivious” instead.

The rolling end credits to the sixth Harry Potter film are playing on the screen in front of you, signaling the nearing end of your magical movie marathon. You’re seated on the worn down couch in Mark and Donghyuck’s shared apartment, watching the former make his drink with the fancy, gently used Keurig newly settled on the scratched countertop. Johnny dropped it off a few days ago because he had splurged on a better coffee machine (“It even makes Instagram worthy whipped frappuccinos!”) and didn’t want his old, but still perfectly functioning caffeine provider going to waste.

“What’s wrong with this thing?” Mark slaps the side of the machine, and it starts to emit a low whirring noise. “Oh, that’s good, right? That sound is good, you think?”

His question is immediately answered by the sad squirt of hot water speckled with coffee grinds falling into his mug for a few seconds before the machine shuts off.

“What the hell?” he mutters angrily, carding his hand through his hair in frustration, and you finally decide to take pity on your best friend. Getting up from the comfy spot you know you sadly won’t be able to recreate perfectly again later, you stride over to where your best friend stands and flip open the top of the Keurig.

“Hyuck didn’t take out his used coffee pod,” you say, pulling out the incriminating evidence of your best friend’s roommate and disposing it in the trash can next to the refrigerator. “Where’s the espresso one you’re gonna use? Why didn’t you put that in?”

His jaw slackens, and he sheepishly rubs the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze and mumbling, “I thought I’d just open it later and pour it into my hot water.”

“Mark,” you start, placing your hands on his shoulders firmly and staring into his eyes with a serious look on your face. “Please know that I’m saying this in the most loving way possible, but you are an absolute idiot.”

You release your grip on his shoulders and grab the espresso pod dangling from his fingertips before slotting it into the Keurig. You remove the mug he placed underneath the spout and wash out the accidental coffee water before placing it back in its original position and pressing the start button on the machine. With a sigh, you lean against the side of the counter, glancing at your friend who looks like a child being scolded for stealing from the cookie jar.

“If you pour the pod into your mug, are you just going to chug all the loose coffee grinds, too?”

“... I didn’t think that far ahead.” His lips start to unintentionally form a tiny pout, and your eyes (and your heart, too) soften.

You’re very relieved that Donghyuck is off filming with your friend because he definitely would be making fun of your heart eyes that frequently make an appearance around a certain Mark Lee. Which you always deny. Because you certainly do not have a gigantic crush on your technologically inept best friend.

You glance over at him again and have to physically fight yourself to resist the urge to kiss his cute pout away. Okay, so maybe you harbor a very respectable, medium sized crush. But it's no big deal. It’s completely under control. Unless you’re counting the fact that your best friend is still unaware, and you’re running out of ideas to try and see if he likes you back before you actually shoot your shot. Then it’s very much not under control because you’re losing sleep over it and you don’t know what to do to be any more obvious without stating the, well, obvious.

“Well, now you know. If you forget, you can FaceTime me and I’ll give you instructions on how it works.” You pat his shoulder reassuringly before pausing. “Wait, you do know how to FaceTime, right?”

“Yes!” he exclaims, sulking even more before confessing in a quieter, defeated tone, “Hyuck showed me last month.”

Mark grabs his finished drink and follows behind you, settling back onto the couch next to you. The streaming service already has Deathly Hallows Part 1 in the queue and ready to go, and your best friend is ready to click play until he notices your attention being focused on the smaller screen in your hands. He wonders if you’re about to post another one of your popular cooking videos on that app that shares a name with the most iconic song of the 2000s (hint: the name of the song’s singer is made up of four letters and a dollar sign).

“Are you uploading one of your videos?” he implores before taking a sip of his drink with a satisfied smile. Somehow, it always tastes better when you make it, and he can’t figure out why for the life of him. When he went to Johnny’s place, his older friend uses the exact same pod and water ratio for his espresso, and yet, it’s never as good as yours.

“Nah, I’m ordering my grocery delivery before I forget. Do you want anything?” You select the option to load your usual grocery items into your cart before debating on whether or not you should splurge on buying several packages of those seasonal Pillsbury sugar cookies that only come in stock during certain holidays. It seems like such an insult to the entire premise of your Tiktok account based on baking and cooking, but you’re an absolute sucker for those soft pastries.

“Yeah, can you get me a Shin Ramyun ten pack? Hyuck ate the last one two days ago and didn’t tell me.”

“You sure you don’t want ten boxes again?” You decide to get those Pillsbury sugary delights, happily adding three boxes to your cart. Everybody has a weakness, and yours just so happens to be a premade one way ticket to diabetes. You’re here for a good, delicious time, not a long time.

“No! That was an accident!” He objects, flailing his hands around, before falling back against the couch cushions in defeat. “But Hyuck does all the online grocery shopping now.”

“Thank god. You guys finally have quality toilet paper again.”

The past month of bathroom occurrences was plagued with scratchy tissue that felt more like goddamn sandpaper from the horrible depths of hell. To be honest, you probably would have rather used actual sandpaper, given the choice. You even made sure not to drink too much water any time you came over, but today, you decided to splurge on a venti passion fruit iced tea with sweetener from that very popular franchise sporting a mermaid logo and fiscally cosmic name. To your pleasant surprise, your trip to the toilet this time was wonderfully padded with Charmin Ultra Soft, not that absolutely awful off brand one with the gross texture of a dried pinecone from inferno.

“Hey, that toilet paper was a good steal! It was a three for one deal,” Mark protests, and you narrow your eyes at him.

“Wow, I wonder why it was priced so low.” You deadpan, and Mark blanches, recalling all those restroom incidents that were rather rough. Literally.

“Anyway, do you think my viewers wanna see me make chocolate crinkle cookies or mochi doughnuts?” You bring up the two recipes you managed to perfect and add your own spin to on your phone, eyes scanning the ingredient lists.

“Both. And tell me when you’re making them, so I can come over and eat them.” He gives you a wide grin, and you let out a snort at that. His smile only grows as he says happily, “I love your job.”

“You only love it because you can freeload off of me,” you jest, but nevertheless begin to start to add all the ingredients for both recipes to your shopping cart. You always film cooking videos on Tuesdays, edit on Wednesdays, keep Thursdays free for last minute touch ups and emergencies, and post one every week on Fridays with other various random videos uploaded whenever in between. With that in mind, you schedule your upcoming grocery delivery for Monday.

“Hey, you need me. I’m the best taste tester.” He puffs up his chest proudly before hastily tacking on a more genuine reason. “And because I’d starve without you. I can’t live off of instant ramen and frozen chicken nuggets forever. Gordon Ramsay already confirmed my shitty cooking skills. I need you to survive.”

“Oh my god, when I uploaded those pics of your scrambled eggs on Twitter, I lost like a hundred followers in less than a minute.” You confirm the delivery and place your phone on the coffee table, picking up the opened bag of Cheeto puffs before settling back in your seat. “My cooking credibility was completely shot. I had to explain to my fans that I didn’t make those.”

“Yeah, but now everyone calls me Eggy Boi online!” he whines, and you laugh. You have to admit, it’s quite a funny play on the whole “edgy boi” terminology. You wonder if Mark will find it amusing if he discovers his roommate is the culprit behind his new online persona (He probably won’t, and you reckon Donghyuck enjoys living in a safe space where he doesn’t have to sleep with one eye open, so you stay quiet about it. You’ll use it as leverage some other time).

“Okay, Eggy Boi, come by on Tuesday because I’ll be baking in the afternoon,” you say casually, grabbing the remote control from your best friend and pressing play. 

You very narrowly avoid a green gummy bear to the face. It lands somewhere behind the couch, lost forever to the dust bunnies and other snacks that missed its target. You know for a fact that it’ll stay there until the boys decide to move to a new apartment. Mark grumbles at the miss, biting off the head of a red cherry flavored gummy bear perhaps a little harder than necessary.

“I hate you. But I’m still coming over next week because I want a doughnut.”

“No cookie?”

“... and a cookie. Maybe two.”

Wednesday comes faster than you expected, and you’re currently holed up in your apartment’s second bedroom—which you had transformed into a snazzy office space—completing the edits to your second video on mochi doughnuts. You already finished polishing the one about the cookies earlier, thank goodness. If you had to stare at your computer screen for another three hours, you would rather eat those pastries Mark tried to make two months ago, but had mistaken salt for sugar. Adding a cup of salt to any baked good is an extremely effective way to make anyone who tasted your best friend’s brownies experience a trip to the beach. Because they essentially just swallowed a mouthful of sand and ocean water. Because it’s salty as heck. Just like Mark was when you told him.

Speaking of your best friend, he’s currently puttering around in your kitchen doing god knows what. He knows better than to try another recipe and possibly blow up your number one moneymaker—your prized oven—in the process. Your heart nearly drops when your ears pick up the faint chopping sounds of a knife against your wooden cutting board. Is he going to try to temper chocolate again? He nearly burned through your entire stock of dark, milk, and white chocolate last time.

After much contemplation and deciding that you deserve a good procrastination break and a fully intact kitchen, you’re about to go out and see what he’s up to when Mark timidly appears in your doorway, clutching onto a white bowl of watermelon cubes with a fork tucked neatly in it. He shuffles in, dropping the snack on your desk before turning to walk out without a word, not wanting to disturb your work mode. 

Your heart warms up at the sight, and you speak up, a small smile slipping into your face. “What’s this for?”

“Knowing you, you probably haven’t eaten anything since breakfast.” He pauses in the doorway and adds on sheepishly, “And I can't cook anything, so this is what you get.”

Your heart swells tenfold, and your smile widens even more as you spear a piece of fruit with the fork and quickly pop it into your mouth. “Thanks, Marky.”

His cheeks flush with a pretty shade of carmine, and he fails to suppress the little giddy smile that appears on his face at your nickname for him. He walks out of your office, reddened cheeks still rising up higher than ever. “Y-Yeah, of course. No problem.”

By the time you finish adding the final few touches to your edited video, the bowl of watermelon has been picked clean. You save your video and transfer both of your completed projects to your phone, making a mental note to schedule their uploads and add them to your account’s posting queue later. Shoving your phone in the pocket of your sweats after ensuring the successful transfer of your videos, you pick up the empty dish and walk out towards the kitchen, the silver fork clinking against the side of the bowl with every step.

As you wash the dish and utensil, Mark wanders over from his spot on the couch, leaning forward and casually placing his chin on your shoulder. Almost instantaneously, you feel the heat rising to your cheeks as you briefly fantasize about your best friend wrapping his arms around your waist and how domestic and sweet the two of you would look, like one of those cheesy couples the two of you always made fun of.

“What’s up?” you ask, making a conscious effort to hold your voice steady and not waver over the fact that Mark is basically draped over you. After you place the dish on the drying rack, you turn around to face your best friend, sorely miscalculating the distance as mere inches separate your face from his now.

“I—” Puberty decides to make an ugly appearance in the form of an ill timed voice crack, and he internally curses as he takes a step back, willing the incoming blush to go away. Letting out a small cough, he tries again, scratching the back of his neck nervously.

“I, um, Jisung sent me some kind of dance video. He said it’s a challenge? I kinda don’t know what to do with it? Like do I make a new dance, record myself, and send it back? Actually, isn't it easier to just do a dance battle face to face?”

“Can I see the video?” You already have a good idea on what the video will be, but you want to confirm it. Mark fumbles with his phone, pulling up the video in his text messages. He angles the phone towards you for you to see, and you grab his hand, bringing the device a little closer to you for a better look and clicking play.

“Oh, it’s a Tiktok challenge! He’s doing the Say So dance!” you exclaim, recognizing the song almost immediately as your eyes follow the fluid dance moves, completely enthralled. “So a challenge isn’t going up against someone, like a battle. It’s just some kind of trend or concept that you try to copy yourself. You’re supposed to learn the same dance and record yourself for this one. I can show you some other challenges and help you practice and record this one tomorrow if you wanna drop by after work!”

“O-Oh, okay, sounds good.” Mark stumbles over his words, attempting to focus on what you’re saying and the dance Jisung is doing, but all he can think about is the way your body is pressed against his side, hand comfortably wrapped around his. He freezes up as the tips of his ears grow redder and redder with every passing second, and his face sports a similar color. He silently prays for the telltale crimson to go away by the time the dance is over.

When the video ends, you once again realize the close proximity between you and your best friend. Your face burns at this revelation, and you awkwardly take a step back. Clearing your throat, you hastily release Mark’s hand (He inaudibly lets out the breath he’s been holding in this entire time, yet he also already misses the way your hand felt grasping his).

“Uh, anyway, I’m gonna make a latte. Do you want a drink, too?” You walk towards the other side of your kitchen with Mark trailing behind you. You take out a floral, peachy colored mug from your cupboards before pausing and looking at your best friend. “Wait, do you remember how to use a Keurig?”

“Yes!” He says, slightly exasperated as he picks out his own cup from your cabinet. He always uses the same one—a cerulean blue mug with squiggles all over it—and all of your friends and guests know not to use it because it’s unofficially officially Mark’s mug (And perhaps, you did indeed buy it from that overpriced kitschy tableware shop down the street two years ago with your best friend in mind).

“Really?” You select the latte option and press start after you had already positioned the mug beneath the spout and inserted a green tea matcha pod. He finally relents, shoulders sagging and a defeated expression on his face.

“... No.”

You chuckle, taking the mug from him and carefully putting it on the counter. You grab the espresso pod you know he likes from the drawer below and place it next to the cup. “It’s okay, I’ll teach you again.”

Mark tries. He really does. He tries very hard to concentrate on memorizing the simple process, but he keeps getting distracted. His eyes are focused on the correct button to push before they start to trail up to your fingertips. And then, they go from your hand to your arm, then up to the elegant curve of your neck, and finally, to the way your lashes frame your pretty eyes and how the tip of your tongue sticks out slightly as you concentrate until all he can focus on is you, you, you.

Suddenly, in what feels like a blink of an eye, you’re done and handing him his finished drink, complete with a perfectly whipped milk foam on top. You ask him if he knows how to make it now, and all he can do is lie and nod with a barely convincing smile.

After all, how can Mark tell his best friend that the reason he never remembers is because you’re the biggest distraction?

Mark should be here in five minutes, according to his most recent text message. And in the text message below that, your friend had sent you a challenge. More specifically, it’s the one she completed with Donghyuck a few weeks ago. When you said you wanted bold suggestions on how to figure out if your best friend feels the same way about you as you do about him, you didn’t want one this bold. 

Yet, the video link to your friend’s “today I kissed my best friend” challenge along with a winky face from her is staring mockingly at you. While you aren’t one to back down from a challenge, the mere thought of kissing your best friend causes vast colonies of butterflies to erupt in your stomach and your ears to feel as if they have caught on fire. You’re already tongue tied with your head in the clouds, and he isn’t even here yet. How utterly fantastic.

However, your mother definitely did not raise a quitter, so you spring into action when you hear the faint jingling of a key being inserted into your apartment’s door (You had given Mark a copy of your key almost immediately after you had moved in). You move the pretty indoor fern given to you by Jaemin as a housewarming gift last year closer to the edge of your towering bookcase, leaning your phone against it. You quickly position the device to capture a good view of the couch area in your living room and press the record button, arranging a few of the leaves to hide as much of your phone as you possibly can without obstructing the lens.

You run full speed to your bedroom, letting out a sigh of relief when you’re safely inside and hear Mark finally unlocking the door successfully and shuffling in. When he calls out to you, you try to even out your breathing, walking out of your room with your tripod and laptop in hand.

“Hey,” you greet him in the most casual tone you can muster. You place the tripod down and sit before opening your laptop and setting it on the coffee table. “I thought we could watch a few challenges for fun before trying the Say So one. Have you watched Jisung’s videos before?”

“Um, well, no, not really,” he confesses sheepishly, taking a seat next to you on the couch, leg pressing against yours. He squints at the YouTube video you pulled up earlier before he had arrived, reading the title before clicking the space button to start it. “Savage Tiktok dance compilation part two?”

“Wait, hold up.” You pause the video and then turn to face him with an incredulous expression on your face. “You’ve never watched any of Jisung’s dance Tiktoks?”

“No… I don’t even have an account.” His cheeks are dusted with the lightest shade of pink as he quietly admits, “I watch all of yours though.”

Your eyes widen at his confession, face heating up as you stammer out, “O-Oh, well, I can help you make an account later to upload your video.”

“Sounds good.” There’s a few seconds of silence as you mull over his previous words before he speaks up again awkwardly, “Should I, uh, play the video?”

“Oh! Yes, right! Of course, hit play,” you laugh nervously, twisting and playing with the hair tie around your wrist. He starts the video again, and the two of you watch the compilation, slowly relaxing once more as you tap your fingers to the rhythm of the song and he bobs his head to the beat.

“Do I have to change outfits like that?” he questions a few minutes later, eyes growing round as he sees the girl on the screen switch between four different outfits throughout the dance. His closet basically consists of the same five black shirts that he stole from Jaehyun. Even if he did do an outfit swap, there would literally be no difference at all.

“You don’t have to,” you assure him, clicking the enter key to play the next video that’s recommended: another Tiktok dance challenge compilation. “All you have to do is copy the dance.”

Mark nods, taking a glance at the laptop screen before his hand shoots out and he pauses the video, leaning forward to take a closer look at the little recommended video title banner at the top. “Wait! What’s that one?”

He clicks on it, the new video now loading up. The two of you wait patiently for it to begin, waiting for the spinning disc to stop. But it doesn’t. In fact, the whole chrome page goes blank and then, the little pixelated Google Chrome dinosaur pops up on your monitor, announcing that you have no internet connection. Furrowing your eyebrows, you try to reload the page before trying to re-establish your laptop connection to your wifi. Unfortunately, you cannot find your appropriately named “drop it like it’s hotspot” wifi anywhere to connect to.

And that’s when it hits you. Your landlord had sent out a notice to the entire apartment complex last week about the electricity being powered down today from 4 to 6 p.m. for a maintenance check, and a quick glance at the digital clock on your laptop shows that it’s a little past four.

You groan, closing your laptop and flopping back against the couch cushions dramatically. Mark cocks his head, slightly confused, before he pokes you in the arm. “What’s wrong?”

“I completely forgot about the scheduled electricity shutdown for the entire building. We won’t have any wifi for the next two hours.” You pout, your bottom lip jutting out in the slightest, and Mark doesn’t think it’s fair that you get to be this cute and have this much of an effect on his racing heart rate.

“That’s okay, we can… play some board games?” he suggests offhandedly, pushing away the embarrassing thought and nudging your leg with his, and you smile before a sudden idea occurs to you. 

“Or we can still do some Tiktok challenges! What was the challenge you clicked on?” You quickly sit upright, turning to face your best friend, eyes sparkling in excitement. “I memorized a few of the dance ones already! Was it Renegade? I can teach you that one. Jisung showed me how to do it.”

“Um,” he starts, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. His eyes dart everywhere, except you, as he lets out a feigned cough. “It wasn’t a dance one. It was about, uh, going up to your boyfriend… and um, hugging him... when he’s playing video games.”

“Oh.” You answer lamely, not knowing what to say. You unsuccessfully try to push away the image of you attempting that challenge with your best friend. “Those are really cute.”

“Really?” He says doubtfully, wrinkling his eyebrows and fiddling with the frayed sleeve of his sweater. “Wouldn’t the dude get mad?”

You don’t know what suddenly possessed you to do this (you’ll have to ask Renjun and his paranormal loving ass later), but you thank whatever demon did for that split second because you find yourself gently grabbing Mark’s arm and slipping your head underneath it. You swing one leg over his lap and settle down until you’re securely sitting in his lap, bent legs on either side of his hips, hands curled around the soft fabric of his sweater on both sides and resting on top of your thighs. His arms instinctively go around your waist, wrapping around you securely.

You tilt your head to the side slightly, studying the flustered boy in front of you with a teasing, albeit a little anxious, smile on your lips. “Are you feeling mad?”

Splotches of red litter his cheeks and decorate the tips of his ears, but your best friend furiously shakes his head at your question, bashfully ducking his head afterwards and muttering a soft “No.”

You swallow hard, heart pounding erratically in your chest as you timidly ask, “Would you be mad if I do this?”

Mark looks up at that, confusion written all over his face. His arms start to loosen around your figure, hands now resting on your waist. “If you do what?”

You take a deep breath. “This.”

You lean in and gently press your lips against his. Mark freezes in shock, and you quickly retreat soon after, gnawing at the inside of your cheek as you wait anxiously for his reaction. Your heart feels like it’s about to fall out of your chest and be buried six feet under.

A tiny noise of surprise belatedly escapes from him and crimson spreads across his cheeks like wildfire. His doe eyes are wide and sparkling, staring at you in bewilderment. Your best friend lets out a small laugh of disbelief before a full blown smile breaks out across his face. He gazes at you adoringly, breathing out softly, “I’m not mad at that.”

You perk up at that, draping your arms around his neck as you lean forward, beaming. “Really? You’re not?”

“Definitely not.”

This time, Mark meets you halfway, his lips slotting against yours perfectly and making you feel tingles up and down your spine. Your eyes are closed, and you are so hyper aware of the way his hands grip your hips, how he tugs you closer, and how his lips chase after yours. The number of butterflies from earlier multiply in your stomach, and you have ascended past cloud nine by now.

When the two of you break apart, your eyes flutter open, and you nudge your nose against his affectionately. The brightest grin blooms on his face once again, and he buries his face in the crook of your neck, muffling his little giggles and hiding the awfully vibrant cerise that rapidly blossoms on his face.

“Is this a good time to tell you congrats for completing your first challenge?” you say, resting your cheek against the crown of his head. You pull away when he lifts his head up, surprised.

“I wasn’t playing video games though,” he says slowly, processing your words and thinking back to the challenge that started this all.

“It was a different challenge. It’s the one that Hyuck did a few weeks ago,” you confess, and realization dawns on him, his face lighting up for a split second before a look of horror takes over.

“Oh, no. Is that why you had your phone recording on the bookshelf?” Mark asks, dread beginning to cloud his mind.

“Yes…” you say slowly, a little perplexed. “Why? What’s wrong?”

“Oh my god, I ruined your video,” he moans, dropping his forehead onto your shoulder. “I saw your phone when I walked in and thought you were filming earlier and forgot to turn it off, so I turned it off for you.”

When the words finally register in your mind, you can’t stop the laughter from bubbling out of your throat, and he raises his head up to look at you with wide doe eyes at the pretty sound. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to!”

You can’t stop laughing at the situation, and he looks at you worriedly, gnawing on his bottom lip slightly. You force yourself to calm down, a soft chuckle leaving your lips before you beam at him, leaning in and placing the softest kiss on the tip of his nose. “It’s okay, Mark. I’m not mad. That video wasn’t important anyway.”

“But still,” he whines before letting out a groan and slapping his hand against his forehead when the realization sinks in even further. “I’m such an idiot.”

“But you’re my idiot now, right?” you say teasingly, albeit a little shyly as well, as you reach over to tug his hand away from his face and lace your fingers with his.

“I mean, I kinda thought I was always your idiot,” Mark laughs softly and a little embarrassedly, eyes averted and cheeks turning pinker than ever. The largest grin spreads across your face at that, and you turn away slightly to hide it. You didn’t think your best friend can possibly be any more endearing, but he manages to prove you wrong every time.

“Well, then now you can add ‘Y/N’s boyfriend’ to your resume,” you say, and he fails to suppress the pleased smile appearing on his face at your remark, his rosy cheeks rising even taller than skyscrapers.

“So, uh, what sort of job description does that have?” He gazes at your intertwined hands in wonder, still completely giddy at the reality of you being his best friend and something more.

“Sharing hoodies, giving me attention, kissing, holding my hand, going on dates, you know, the basics,” you answer, squeezing his hand tenderly, and his doe eyes instantly light up. Mark feels a little bolder than before, and it shows when he grins widely and says:

“Can we do number three again?”

“Yes, we can, Eggy Boi.”

He wrinkles his nose at the name, disgruntled and unimpressed, as he crosses his arms over his chest, sulking. You let out a laugh before leaning in and crashing your lips against his. He immediately relents at that, enthusiastically responding and hugging you closer to him, and you can’t help but smile into the kiss as you feel his own smile appear as well.

At that moment, you decide that you want to change Mark’s personal brand. Because his should be “absolutely wonderful, positively amazing, a cute kisser, your boyfriend, and your bestest friend.” And yes, that is most definitely more than the allotted three words, but again, who’s really counting?

Certainly not you when you’re too preoccupied with kissing your best friend. Correction: best friend and new boyfriend.

One new notification: donutkillmyvibe uploaded a new video!

moominjun commented:

so you’re saying the reason why we didn’t get the highly anticipated best friend challenge video is because @ marklyrawr turned the camera off?

donutkillmyvibe replied: yes 😔 I’m sorry to disappoint everyone 🤧

nanaislove replied: omg no bby it’s ok 🥺🥺💞💓💓💝💗 you didn’t have to make an apology video for that 🥺💗💓💘💖

goofys.chuckle replied: yeah it’s mark’s fault. he’s the disappointment here 🥴

morklyrawr replied: hahahahaha stfu hyuck

tytrack commented:

mark is going through puberty. I apologize

dobunny replied: @.@

goofys.chuckle commented:

are we getting whip(ped)lash pt 2 by eggy boi?

morklyrawr replied: YOU’RE THE ONE WHO STARTED THAT NAME?????

goofys.chuckle replied: uh gotta blast 🚀

showmethemonet replied: @ goofys.chuckle does this mean you’re staying over again?

goofys.chuckle replied: @ showmethemonet yes if you want your super cute, mega talented, very handsome boyfriend to still be alive 🥺

showmethemonet replied: @ goofys.chuckle oh my god I didn’t know I was dating bts jin???

moominjun replied: LMFAOOOOO

goofys.chuckle replied: heart 💔 been broke 📉 so many times ⏰ i don’t know 🤔 what to believe 💯 mama 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 said 🗣 it’s my fault 😢 it’s my fault 🤦🏻‍♂️i wear my heart ❤️ on my sleeve 💪 i think it’s best 👍🏻 I put my heart ❤️ on ice 🧊

jenojam commented:

why am I not surprised……

itsmebetch replied: just mark thingz 🍉

suhprisemf commented:

mark your head looks flat af

jungjaeprince replied: 😂😂😂

10vely replied: @ jungjaeprince be quiet don’t cry

letswonwon commented:

whoop whoop

junguwu commented:

OMG CONGRATS ON YOUR RELATIONSHIP SWEETIE 😍😍

takoyaki_prince commented:

MARK!!!!! you look handsome !! 😘

jisungpwark commented:

rip to @ donutkillmyvibe ���s future videos that mark will ruin. press f in the chat to pay respects 🙏🏻

bigheadking replied: F ✊🏻😔

peachyangel replied: f 🥺🥺

yoitslucas replied: F 🤪🤪🤪 but glad you’re happy, man ❤️

donutkillmyvibe replied: F 💔

morklyrawr replied: @ donutkillmyvibe wtf babe????

officialgordonramsay commented:

didn’t i tell you to get back on tinder ?

apado_god commented:

nice 😎👍🏻

[shadowturtlesstuff]

You belong with me

so i decided to post wadsworth first. modern au cressworth- you belong with me taylor swift

Thomas throws his phone down on the bed with frustration swirling around him as he paces. I set down my pen and wait till he turns and spots me. We often find ourselves talking via paper throughout the nights, from questions about our day to helping each other study. It is also often we watch each other be angry at something, yet I've not seen him this bad before. Finally Thomas turns and catches my eye. He stands there for a second before smiling and I quickly move around my various workbooks till I find my notebook I use to talk to him. I take my sharpie and write: ‘Are you okay?’

I watch him shake his head ever so slightly, seemingly baffled at it, but he walks to his window and opens it. The wind brushes his deep brown hair and I can't help but want to reach out and run my hand through it. I curse myself for it as he motions for me to open my window. Moving my books and pens off of me and cursing at my stiff leg as I go and open the window. Somehow I manage to hit my arm in the process and I curse, which makes Thomas laugh slightly so I forgive my body for hurting me. 

“You have a wicked mouth Wadsworth. Did you not learn cursing is unlady-like?” he teases and I relax slightly because of it.

“Fuck you,” I scowl at his smirk and the frigid wind. His eyes light up at my temper. We live across from one another, if we were to reach out we could hold hands. Which we have done. When I got rejected from the specific school I was desperate to go to, Thomas had managed to climb into my room and hold me as I cried. He's only ever needed to climb over twice to cheer me up, the other times have been to study or watch some romance programme he thought was good. I hoped wherever was troubling was something that wouldn't resort to me having to climb over. As much as I would want to, my brain may have a hard time letting me attempt it. 

“I assume dear Wadworth, you want to ask what has made me so irate?” he asks, eyes focused on behind me and fingers tapping his window sill as he sits. I watch as his cat, ridiculously named Sir Isaac Mewton, jumps off his bed and onto his seat next to him. He grabs the cat and kisses the top of his head before holding him in his lap.

“Perhaps,” I say, moving so I rest my head on the wall, “perhaps I merely wanted to ask if Sir Issac was okay.” his eyes shift to mine and despite him still being angry they soften at my attempt at humour. I am not as good as Thomas at using humour to help someone, but he always does it for me. 

“Really? You always refer to him as a little pest, whereas as with me, I am your dearest person, of course you want to know how I am feeling. My son is good though, very energetic today.” he smiles down at his cat. I remember the day he brought him home, he made me go over to his house and we spent all night playing with him. Thomas did, I ended up studying and making notes for the both of us while he gave Sir Isaac a ‘grand tour’ of his new home. The smile vanishes off Thomas's face and once again his gaze goes past me. “I assume you saw the call, well that was William. Yes, awful. Apparently though, there is a rumour that I'm with Miss Whitehall. I don't even remember her first name, but he was convinced of our relation despite my protests. Madness.” I watch him scoff, anger once again taking over his features. His cat nuzzles into him and Thomas leans into his cat. If I wasn't also mad now I'd smile at the sight. 

“Is this the same William that had convinced everyone I was dating him?” 

“Yes.”

“Bitch. Why on earth is he such a problem? Where on earth does he even make this assumptions about us?'' I find myself standing and pacing, trying to quell my own rising anger. A year ago, William had been my lab partner for a few weeks, he was friendly, but people had got it in their head that we were somehow together, and he went with it. Gossiped about me, even Thomas, and then was somehow enraged I dared to stop those rumours and be angry at him. I'd come home one day when it was particularly too much, when my father had found out and lectured me about it, as though I was in the wrong for standing up for myself. He'd cancel my lesson with my uncle out of spite, and I stormed upstairs. Thomas had been at the window, as if he was expecting me. One look at his face made me cry. I managed to open my window and he'd once again climbed in and held me as I cried. Then he made us watch this awful romance film together and held me still as I fell asleep on him. 

“I have never once,” Thomas says, dragging me back from those awful memories, “shown interest in her, nor will I ever.” He drags a hand through his hair. “She's just- a lot.”

I huff a sigh. She is awful. Had been awful to Liza and I for years. With her short skirts, high heels and the most rotten attitude I have ever witnessed. It wasn't often that I'd hate someone like that, someone so different from me in nearly every way, but she has tried to make me feel that I don't belong because of my interest in science and not the traditional girl interests.. “That is the understatement of the year Cresswell. Beside, you wouldn't work, she's too- your,” I have no idea how to explain how excellent Thomas is, how wonderful his mind is and how kind he is. It's not a side he shows to most, yet if he was ever with someone like Whitehall, it would be disastrous. I take my seat again and find him looking at me, suppressing a smirk and raising an eyebrow at me. “What?” I ask. I shrink under his gaze, pulling my hoodie over my legs as I curl in on myself. 

“I’m what? I'd be delighted to know your innermost thoughts of me, Wadsworth.”

“Your absurd but fine I'll elaborate,” I roll my eyes as he shifts so he is fully facing me, eyes completely focused, no sign of the anger he had only moments ago, “your too kind, too witty and clever and Whitehall wouldn’t appreciate you enough. You-” don’t belong with her.

Ever since he mentioned the idea of being with someone else, real or not, I have tried to ignore how much it pained me that he would be with someone else. I never expected to want to be with him, yet lately the premise of dating him has seemed very pleasing to me.

“You forgot to mention how handsome I look, or how charming I am, but I'll take it,” his voice is deeper than normal and his gaze travels over me even though his eyes are on my own. Thomas pats Sir Issac and his cat jumps off behind him with a whine. His hand reaches out for mine and I lean forward, wind making my loose strands of hair fly across my face. His hands are warm as I take them but his smile warms me more. It is small but genuine and filled with the normal Cresswell charm mixed with something I can't quite name. 

“I don’t need to inflate your ego further Thomas.” 

“I know but it would've been nice. I did say the inner most thoughts but we’ll get there. Audrey rose-” he looks down contemplating his words before he once again locks his gaze on mine, his dark brown eyes bright, “I dont belong with her, your right, my heart would never belong to her especially since it already belongs to someone else.” 

I blink at the honesty. I want to scream that you belong with me; but if Thomas is in love with someone else then I suppose I will have to find a way to deal with it. I try to keep the hurt of my face even as he smiles at me. 

“I-” Thomas lets go of my hand and stands. There's a silence between us until he motions for me to move. The idiot is going to climb into my house so he can tell me about his new found love. Like the fool I am, I'm going to let him talk about this girl who makes him look this happy. Even though it hurts that it's not me who is making him look like that. Even though I'm the one who makes him laugh when he is angry or upset. Even though I'm the one who knows his favourite songs, the books beside his bed and all his hopes and dreams.

He climbs over and sets himself on the window sill, giving me room to sit across from him. I do, even as I try to ignore the weight pressing down on my chest. “I hope you are happy with whomever has your heart Cresswell.” I say and mean it. I once again curl into myself, hoodie covering my legs as i watch him continue to smile at me, 

“Of course I'll be happy. She's amazing. Let me tell you all about her. I met her many years back and was instantly smitten with her emerald eyes and her quick witted mind. How she sings to herself every morning and how her dark curls fall across her face whenever she sits on her bed and reads. I adore her curiosity for the dead and how wicked her mouth is and how delightful it is to watch your mind at work. I love when she shows me a note through the window to see if I'm doing okay and-”

“Wait,” I blurt out, my mind catching up, “Thomas, are you talking about me?”

“Yes, finally! I thought I'd have to keep speaking forever till you realized it was you.” He starts laughing at my gaping mouth until I collect myself enough to scowl at him slightly for laughing. Thomas reaches out for my hand, moving closer to me until my back is pressed against the wall, my hoodie no longer over my legs as he rests his other hand on my leg, warmth seeping through me. “Wadsworth, darling, I have been in love with you for some time now.” 

Silence washes over us as we stare, trying to convince ourselves this is really happening. “I have something to show you.” My voice is barely about a whisper and I slide out of his grasp even though I don't want to. I walk to my bed where all my notebooks were left open and my notebooks sits. I open it out and let a piece of paper fall out. Facing Thomas I open the sheet slowly, watch him read the words. His eyes lit up at them.

I love you.

I take my place beside him again, his hands finding their way in mine once again. “I wrote that the night after you came here the second time. Something in me clicked that no matter what you'd find a way to comfort me. Not save me, but work alongside me. I wanted to tell you I just couldn't face it. But I needed to acknowledge it. So I wrote it down, and I look at it every time we use the note system; I try to convince myself to show you.” Thomas just stares at me, eyes flicking down to my lips every now and then. His hands are making circles on my leg, not entirely intentional. Thomas has always shown if he is excited or nervous by either tapping or making shapes on surfaces. The world slows completely as he leans in and presses his lips against mine. He pulls back ever so slightly, resting his head against mine and we are both smiling wildly at each other, pressing kisses until he leans further away. Thomas goes back to his side of the wall, which may as well be across the other side of the world, then he pulls me to him and I twist so that my back is against his. He holds me as we both look out the window, enjoying the freeing feeling of telling each other how we feel. 

“Now would be a perfect time to tell me how handsome I am, my love.” 

@fangirling-again @kittycat2187 @goatahoan @city-of-fae @the-hoofflepooff @padfoot-sirius-black-blog @purplecreatorhorsewagon @boredbookwormgirl @goddess-of-writing-wars @lovecakeandmore ​ @yikesitsmaddie @loveyatopluto​ @throneofsc @bookscressworth​

[bruhstories]

Baby, I’ve Already got Your Heart

Summary: An accidental meeting between Armin and Y/N leads to an unhealthy obsession. Pairing: Armin Arlert x Fem!Reader (modern AU) Warnings: stalking, language, unprotected sex, loss of virginity, fingering, oral sex (male receiving), oral sex (female receiving), switch!Reader, switch!Armin, rope is involved. Word Count: 2.5 k

A/N: This fic is heavily inspired by this song. It is surprisingly wholesome, considering the tags xD

Armin Arlert. The purest man in the world. You accidentally met him one cold, rainy day when he entered your coffee shop for shelter and warmth. He naively talked to you, grateful for how nice you were with him, grateful for the cappuccino on the house, grateful for the towel you offered him to dry himself off. Little did Armin know, a fixation sprouted in your mind and heart, developing into the unhealthiest obsession. He was just so cute — and you just had to have him. It helped to know that you were both going to the same university, and after that, you knew everything about him: his Facebook, Instagram, email address, hell, you even knew his real address. To be fair, it was a piece of cake, the boy was absolutely clueless and whenever he 'accidentally' met you, he thought it was by pure chance. The next and most obvious step was to befriend people in his social circle, one Jean Kirstein, one Sasha Braus and one Connie Springer. Naturally, you did your homework, and you knew his best friends were Eren Jaeger and Mikasa Ackerman, but they weren't easy targets. Besides, it would jeopardise your entire plan, as you found Armin was considered a genius. An oblivious genius. He didn't know it yet, but you loved him and he loved you too, right?

A text from Sasha, months after you first met the angelic man, set your plan in motion. A casual gaming night at Armin's place, and you were invited. How perfect. Poor glutton Sasha had no fucking clue how much you were using her, how you told her you want to meet a cute guy, someone nice and caring, someone smart and attentive. The girl put two and two together and decided she just had to introduce you to one of her friends, especially that he was also interested in meeting a girl like you. Unbelievable — you acted surprised, met up with Sasha and left for Armin's little gaming night. You wouldn't let this opportunity go to waste. Starting from tonight, he'd be yours. Forever.

"Armiiiiiiiiin, I brought a plus one!" Sasha barged into his house. "This is my friend, Y/N. Y/N, Armin! Oh shit, pretzels!" The brown-haired woman left the two of you in the hallway and the blond flashed you a smile.

"I feel like I've seen you before." He mused as he closed the door behind you.

"If you ever drink coffee at Rose's you might've seen me there." You smiled and removed your leather jacket, revealing a Pearl Jam t-shirt.

"No way you listen to them!" Armin blurted.

"Are you kidding me? They're my favourite!" You lied through your teeth with a sickly-sweet smile.

"Mine too! Oh, I know, you're the girl who gave me a free cappuccino months ago!"

"I remember! You were drenched in rainwater." You laughed as the two of you entered the living room. "I had to mop up the puddles you left behind."

"I'm so sorry about that..." He blushed. Your heart fluttered and you couldn't wait to get your hands on him, but for the time being, you needed to behave.

"No worries, I just hope you didn't catch a cold." You assured Armin and sympathetically placed a hand on his shoulder. There he goes, blushing again. It couldn't be... was he a virgin? Fuck. This was better than you could've imagined.

"Who's this?"

"Oh, Mikasa, Eren, this is Y/N. She's friends with Sasha."

"Nice to meet you!" Eren shook your hand. "Oh, God, you listen to Pearl Jam, too? You nerds are going to get along just fine." He joked.

The night went great, and you actually had fun with Armin and his friends, despite not intending to mingle with them too much. People started leaving around 2 am, but Eren and Mikasa stayed longer. Too fucking long — and things were boring now anyway. You and Armin kept talking about video games and books, Mikasa fell asleep on Eren who was playing fucking Farmville on his phone. They had to leave as soon as possible.

"Hey, Y/N, we can take you home." Eren suggested and you froze. Shit.

"Didn't you say you're almost out of gas?" Armin questioned his friend.

"Ah, fuck, you're right. I still don't know how that happened — I fuelled the tank yesterday!" The brunette scoffed. "Guess you're on your own, Y/N."

"It's alright, I'll take an uber." You politely smiled.

"Alright, we'll wait for you."

Oh, for fuck's sake. Truth be told, you appreciated how nice and caring Armin's friends were, but you had a different goal to accomplish.

"You really don't have to, plus I have to use the bathroom." You excused yourself. "Um, where is the bathroom exactly?"

"Upstairs, first door on the right." Armin told you while gathering plates and cups from the table. You nodded and climbed up the stairs. Your hand hovered over the bathroom doorknob for a good minute, eyes drifting to the door next to it. Armin's bedroom, by the looks of it. Surely, you could take a look, right? Fuck it. You opened the second door and at first glance, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. LED and fairy lights encircled a corner of his room and, curiously, you walked closer to see what that was, because it didn't look like a desk. Your Y/E/C widened when you saw tens of framed photographs of yourself on the square table, objects you thought you lost and — Jesus, was that your bra? A rush of anxiety hit you, but before you could do anything, a blow to your head blurred your vision.

•°☆°•☆•°☆°•

Dark lashes fluttered as you opened your eyes. The sudden realisation that you were naked and restrained to a bed made you jolt. What just happened?

"Fucking finally, I thought you'd never wake up." Armin greeted you, but his voice was different, deeper and darker.

"Ar-ugh, Armin?" You groaned at the stinging sensation at the back of your head.

"You know, I was relieved you didn't leave with Sasha, otherwise you would've slipped between my fingers again."

Again?

"Ugh, and Eren and his stupid idea. 'We'll take you home.'" He mocked his best friend with a high pitch. "I've been dreaming for this moment since I walked into that shitty coffee shop."

You were at a loss for words. This was not the Armin you fantasised about, not the Armin you wanted. He was much more and much worse. And. So. Much. Better.

Alright then, you'd put up a show for him.

"P-please, Armin, please untie m-me! I'll be good, I p-promise!" You stuttered and whimpered, trying your best to sound genuine.

"Why, so you can run away?" The blond scoffed. So, he didn't know you stalked him. What a twist.

"I won't r-run, I swear!"

"Bullshit." Armin bent over your body, hands around your neck. You gasped and pretended to be startled by his touch, but in reality, your core was already burning with lust. You knew you couldn't keep up with this charade. "No, Y/N, I won't untie you. But we'll have so much fun." He sneered.

"You promise?"

"Yes. Wait—"

Your laughter filled the bedroom, genuine laughter that baffled Armin. Was this some sort of reverse psychology trick?

"Oh, Armin, even when you reveal your true colours, you're still oblivious to the reality of what's in front of you."

"Then enlighten me, what am I so oblivious to?" He folded his arms across his chest and waited.

"The fact that this was my fucking plan, too." You stretched as much as your restraints allowed you to and licked your lips. "I guess we both stalked each other without even knowing. How ridiculous."

"I think I would've known if you stalked me, Y/N."

"Really? Let me prove it, then. Your favourite food's Carbonara pasta, your favourite drink is peach and lychee iced tea, favourite movie is Interstellar, you lived on Sheena street until you were 12–"

"That's common knowledge, Sasha could've told you any of that." Armin blurted, growing impatient.

"You watch BDSM and asphyxiation porn between 10 pm and 11 pm every Tuesday, you're a virgin, you own a fleshlight–"

"Fuck, alright!" He threw his hands in the air, defeated. "So, what next?"

"You untie me and you tear me apart, Armin, that's what's next."

The blond hesitated before removing the cuffs on your ankles, still unsure about the ropes around your wrists. Clearly, you weren't making things up, but what were the chances of both of you stalking each other? For a brief moment, Armin felt guilty for hitting you and practically holding you captive, and you could see that on his face, but obsession and desire soon took over, and he reverted back to his darker self. His soft hands moved from your ankles to your knees, up your thighs and stomach, stopping above your chest, deciding it's best if you're not fully free. Armin licked his lips and climbed on top of you, unbuttoning his flannel shirt. You thought was surprisingly strong for such a thin man, but when the unbuttoned shirt revealed his chiselled abdomen, it made sense why he was strong.

"The wrists, Armin." You insisted but the blond clicked his tongue.

"I like you better when you're helpless." He pressed his lips onto yours in a hot kiss. A great kiss, you thought, your tongues wrestling for supremacy.

"Please, I want to touch you! I need to..." You trailed off, intoxicated by his smell, notes of saffron and cardamom. His hands roamed your shoulders, tickling your axilla and groping your breasts. "Please let me touch you, Armin!" You begged again, but he didn't say a word, his hot breath fanning over your oversensitive nipples, goosebumps all over your skin. His pink tongue poked out of his mouth and you watched him painstakingly slowly lick one of your nipples. It literally pained you to be unable to touch him, pull him closer to you. Alas, you had no choice, and despite yearning to be in control, it aroused you to have him control you.

"You smell so sweet." He abruptly stopped. "I bet you taste sweet, too."

"Armin..." His words made you brace yourself. While you weren't a virgin, you've never had anyone eat you out. The blond was already in between your legs, one hand resting under your thigh, the other gently touching your slick folds. Armin was so careful, like you were made of glass, and the ticklish sensation didn't help you at all. You wanted him to ram his cock inside of you and rearrange your guts, but he wanted to take his sweet time. The teasing only made you dizzy with pleasure, and you bucked your hips, trying to get him to move faster.

"You really need to learn to be patient, Y/N." Armin purred, pressing gentle kisses on your thighs. He lazily dragged his tongue across your slit, electricity shooting through your body. God, how you wanted to rip those ropes apart. Two fingers entered you and the blond gingerly licked your clit.  

"Fuck– so... so good ah–" You couldn't form a sentence even if your life counted on it. Gradually, you could feel your orgasm building up and Armin sensed it, picking up the pace. His fingers thrusted harder and you arched your back, the intensity too much for you. "Armin, please! I wanna come with your cock in me!" The begging didn't stop him, he was determined to make you finish then and there. And he did — within seconds you melted under his touch, legs trembling with pleasure. Armin pulled back, his mouth messy with saliva mixed with your juices.

"You come when I want you to come." His voice was low, almost like a growl. He unbuttoned his jeans, and you watched him like a hawk, waiting to see just how big his was, and you were not disappointed.

"Please please please let me suck it, please!" You begged him, eager to taste him. He smirked and kissed you, all the while rubbing his cock.

"You want this?" Armin quirked a brow at you. The little shit, jacking off in front of you and you couldn't even do anything about it.

"Armin..."

"Say it. Say you want it."

"Armin!"

"Say it, Y/N." He groaned, precum leaking from his member. Fuck.

"I... I want it..." You eventually gave up.

"Good girl." The blond climbed back on top of you. He raised your hips and you placed your legs on his shoulder, his first thrust slow and deep. Armin couldn't help the moan escaping his lips — this was so much better than that shitty fleshlight and countless porn videos. You couldn't deny the fact that it hurt, despite your soaking cunt, but you quickly adjusted to his size. As Armin pounded you, the bed underneath the two of you started moving and screeching, and the ropes tied to the metal bedframe loosened and you felt your arms fall onto the pillows. In his frenzy, the blond didn't notice, so you took this opportunity to lower your legs and wrap them around his waist, one hand grabbing his soft locks, the other wrapping around his neck. You used his weight against him and turned him over. You were in control.

Armin was taken aback by this, but the feeling of your fingers squeezing his throat only turned him on more. You bounced up and down, throwing your head back and groaning. He gripped your hips tightly, thrusting his own hips against yours.

"F-fuck me harder, Y/N!" He begged and you sped up. You felt like a queen — no, a goddess — when he asked you to fuck him, the feeling of him inside of you so addictive. He was your drug, and your rehab, your poison, and your antidote. And you were his and his only. His cock was twitching in your cunt and knew he was close but you didn't want to risk it. Swiftly, you got off of him and wrapped your lips around his dick, bobbing your head up and down. It didn't take long for him to finish, hot liquid shooting down your throat with one final grunt. You swallowed it all and threw yourself next to him. It was breaking dawn already, but you weren't tired. Physically, yes, both of you were exhausted, but mentally it felt like you discovered a hidden gem.

"What the fuck did we just do?" Armin calmly caressed your hair as you nuzzled his neck.

"Are we talking about the obsessively stalking each other part or the part where you hit me in the head? Or the fucking?"

"The everything." He explained. "This is wrong."

"Did it feel wrong?" You asked him, your fingers idly tracing circles over his chest.

"Well, no..."

"Then it's not wrong." You shrugged. "Am... am I yours?"

"Yes." The blond instantly replied without a trace of hesitation in his voice. "Am I?"

"You've been mine the moment you set foot in that shitty coffee shop." You laughed.

"And what are we going to tell the others?"

"That we ended up talking all night and I stayed over?"

"Sounds like a plan." Armin kissed your forehead.

"By the way, I really don't like Pearl Jam." You admitted.

He laughed and it filled your heart with warmth. You have no idea why you and Armin were like that, or how things would be from now on, but you had a good feeling about it. Things were okay. You two were okay.

[binniebutter]

and they were roommates...

Pairing: Theatre Major!Jisung x Minho x Theatre Major!Reader

Genre: angst, fluff; roommate au; college au (bye idk what genre this is)

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: none

Summary: Minho likes Jisung. You know that. So why did Minho just catch you kissing him?

a/n: there will definitely be a part two to this I swear

If someone had told Minho a year ago that he'd be sharing an on-campus dorm with a girl, he would’ve laughed in their face. But now, Minho could proudly say that he had a female roommate.

And he loved you. 

Platonically of course. He was pretty sure that you’re his platonic soulmate. You understand him better than he understands himself. You know exactly when he’s feeling down and know just the right thing to cheer him up. He feels like he can confide in you about anything and everything. You’re a shoulder that he can lean on, his light in the dark. He feels safe with you and he can confidently say that you’re his best friend (he only says that when Jisung’s not around though).

“Minho? Minhooo? Hello, earth to Minho,” you said loudly, poking his bicep repeatedly. He quickly shook his head, focusing his attention back on you. Once you saw that his focus was on you again, you stopped poking him, instead raising your finger to point at him. “You were thinking about Jisung again weren’t you?” you loudly accused. Minho’s eyes widened as he quickly shushed you, reaching out to lower your finger.

“Shush. We’re in a library, Y/n.”

It’s no secret that Minho has a crush on Jisung. Everyone and their mother is aware of Minho’s infatuation with the theatre major. Especially you. You’re the one that Minho goes to gush to when Jisung gets a haircut that makes him look immaculate or when Jisung wears an outfit that Minho has never seen on him before. And it kills you. Why? Cause you are in love with your roommate.

“It’s not like I’m wrong though. You’re probably thinking about Jisung’s hair or… his teeth or something.” At that, Minho gave you a disgusted look. “Oh don’t look at me like that, it’s a thing.”

“Ok… well you’re wrong. I wasn’t thinking about Jisung,” he said, ignoring the small ‘for the first time in forever’ that you muttered, “I was thinking about you. And how lucky I am to have you.” If Minho hadn’t had been looking at his textbook while saying these words, you were sure he would’ve noticed the way your cheeks flushed.

“What, you have a crush on me Lee?” you teased, thanking every god out there that your voice didn’t waver. Minho scoffed and you would be lying if that didn’t hurt your heart a little bit. 

“Please, as if. Now what were you saying?” 

Now, Minho tried. He really did try to listen to what you were telling him but when you mentioned Jisung, he was a goner. He thought about the talented boy and his squirrel-like cheeks. His eyes that always shined so bright while on stage. His smile that made Minho’s heart skip multiple beats at a time. God did he want to be the reason that  Han Jisung smiles.

You poked your head into Minho’s room, knocking on the wood of his door. Minho was at his desk on his laptop, headphones on, probably editing a video and you rolled your eyes. He was always working and you told him time and time again to take breaks every once in a while but he never did. You walked into the room fully, pulling off his headphones causing Minho to look at you in confusion.

“Did you need something, Y/n?” he asked, looking at you with softness in his eyes. You got lost looking into his brown orbs, something that you caught yourself doing often. You shook your head, slapping yourself lightly to focus, which caused Minho to look at you concerningly. You cleared your throat loudly, hoping to draw the attention away from your weird behavior.

“Mhm. Uh no, I don’t need anything. I just wanted to tell you that Jisung is coming over soon to work on a project.” His ears visibly perked up at the mention of Jisung and you internally rolled your eyes. “We’ll be in my room, so don’t interrupt us.” With that you exited the room, being careful so as to not slam the door because you know of Minho’s fear of loud noises. Minho smiled at your consideration, before putting his headphones back over his ears and continuing on with his editing.

It wasn’t until two hours later that Minho finally allowed himself a break. He turned in his chair, stretching his arms and legs. He caught sight of his figure in the mirror across the room and, unconsciously, smiled while thinking  back to the time when you told him that he looked like a cat while stretching. You were right, he does kinda look like a cat. He stood up from his seat, making a mental note to facetime his mom later and see Soonie, Doongie, and Dori, and walked out of his room.

His first thought was to go to the kitchen but he halted his feet as he heard laughter coming from your room. He then remembered that Jisung was over and immediately made to open the door, dismissing the warning in his head.

“I like you, Ji. I really like you. And I hope you like me too.” Minho froze as those words reached his ears. What? Y/n? He leaned his ear closer to the door in order to hear better. When he didn’t hear anything else, he quickly opened the door to your room but immediately regretted doing so after.

You and Jisung were sitting on your bed, knees touching, and lips interlocked. Your arms were draped over Jisung’s shoulders, your hands playing with the hairs at the nape of his neck. Jisung’s hands were settled on your waist and tears filled Minho’s eyes at the sight. The two of you broke apart quickly when he barged in and his anger boiled when you didn’t even look guilty. You even had the audacity to smile at him. You opened your mouth to say something but he quickly spoke, interrupting whatever you were gonna say.

“I’m so sorry for interrupting. I’ll go back to my room now.” Minho quickly turned around before you could say anything, walking out of the room and unintentionally slamming the door on his way out. Or maybe it was intentionally. He made his way to the front door quickly putting on his shoes and grabbing his keys. Before he left the dorm, a thought dawned upon him. 

The living room. You always use the living room when you have project partners or group mates over. So why… 

He now knows why. 

You like Jisung.

 And Jisung likes you.

Anger coursed through his veins at the realization.

“What’s up with him?” Jisung asked you back in the dorm. You stared at the door that Minho just walked through, your eyebrows furrowed and your eyes narrowed in concern.

“I don’t know. I really don’t know.” Jisung saw how worried you were and tried to get your mind off of it.

“Well then, Ms. Cho-Hee. Let’s get back to it, shall we,” he said while extending his hand out to you. You giggled at the use of your character’s name, grabbing the hand offered to you.

“Yes, Mr. Ji-Hoon. We shall,” you answered, grabbing your script from off of your bed.

uh so, do you like it?

SKZ Masterlist

Main Masterlist

[icequeenbae]

Dior Vernis | BBH

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader

Domestic au, husband!Baekhyun, pregnant!Reader, established relationship (obviously), slight angst, fluff, bits of humor (it’s Baek, y’all)

Rated: G

Warnings: husband!Baek’s so sweet you may need to visit your dentist after this

Word Count: ~1.5k finally

Summary: Baekhyun came home to find his pregnant wife crying. He’s ready to do what it takes to make her happy again. And it’s probably not what you think.

© Please do not copy/ post on other platforms without permission.

Author’s Note: This is just a cute little something while I work on bigger stories – those are taking forever to get edited… :( Feel free to DM me in case you want to help out with some of it (check out my beta reader post). I was trying something new in terms of structuring this, I hope it’s not too confusing. Anyways, please enjoy and let me know if you’d like more of these!! Thanks baekshoney for taking a quick look!

Baekhyun was incredibly focused.

The task at hand was not something he was used to undertaking, neither had he expected to be in this position tonight, crouched uncomfortably on the living room floor in front of you. He was pretty tired after work, and the stoop was making both his knee and his neck hurt. Not that he was going to say anything about the inconvenience anyway.

It was strangely quiet, seeing that this was your home, always boisterous. Loud with your laughter, your endless chattering, your purposefully bad singing, or even your arguments. But right now, the only sounds reverberating around the room were your residual sniffling and his concentrated breathing. You tried to take a closer look at his hands, quite unsuccessfully since your massive seven-months pregnant belly was in the way.

‘Don’t move,’ he asked, when you shifted slightly.

You nodded, effectively doing that again, so he shot you a dirty look and held you in place by the ankle, to which you muttered something apologetic.

‘Are you trying to make me mess up?’

‘Sorry,’ you mumbled, chewing on your lip to control your impatience.

You better let your husband do this – he definitely took his mission seriously. Of course, there was no way he’d mess up and make you cry the way you were when he came through the door. Simply no way.

Even if he had to crouch and do this for the next hour.

~

It couldn’t have been more than thirty minutes since he arrived home. At the time, Baekhyun expected you to be happy that he came early to spend some more time together, but instead found you sitting at the edge of the couch, bawling your eyes out.

At the sight of this he felt his heart skip a beat in fear. He very rarely got like this, usually the one to take a step back and look at any issue calmly and with a bit of humor. But now was a special time – you were getting ready to become parents for the very first time – which made him overly cautious and uncharacteristically fussy around you. Hence, while he stood frozen in the doorway, a million scary thoughts went through his panicked mind. His eyes searched your body frantically: there were no visible injuries, no blood, the bump was intact…

‘What’s going on? Y/N?’ He was trying so hard to cover up his terror that he instantly gave himself away by using your name like this. Too serious. ‘Are you hurt?’

He reached you in a second, kneeling in front of you and touching your wrists as you covered your face while crying.

‘Baby, tell me what’s wrong,’ he almost pleaded.

He wanted to help but had no idea what was happening. You looked fine from what he could tell and the TV was off, so it definitely wasn’t due to any tragic plot twist in your favorite series. Your shoulders shook with more sobs and he shifted his palms to rub them in calming motions. There was an unusual lump in his throat. He could barely stand seeing you, his partner and future mother of his child, like this. Sure, these past few months of your regular hormonal crying taught him some resolve, but that dreadful time was over weeks ago. He’d never even seen you this discomposed before, so the reasoning behind your state was to be determined as soon as possible.

‘Hey,’ he tried again, putting his gentle palm on your belly absentmindedly. ‘I need to know if you’re hurt, babe, so that I can help. Do you need me to call someone?’

You shook your head no, and he nodded to himself.

‘Okay. Why don’t you breathe with me for a second?’

With you getting upset during a good portion of your early pregnancy, Baekhyun had to train himself at the art of figuring out the reason and calming you down to talk about it. Breathing exercises seemed quite helpful whenever he could get through to you, and this was one of those cases. You must’ve been crying for a bit, since before he arrived even. That thought made his heart clench.

‘Breathe in with me, like this,’ he took a deep breath through his nose, ‘And exhale from your mouth.’

He guided you by example, and you subconsciously followed the suggested pattern.

A couple minutes later, your sobs were reduced to sniffling, and you lowered your palms enough for Baekhyun to see your red, watery eyes.

‘Aw sweetheart,’ he bemoaned, carefully investigating your blotched face.

He took his time wiping the tears off your cheeks while you sat there with your sweater paw pressed to your runny nose.

His touch was always so comforting in times like this. There was nothing like it. And everything about your husband gave you a sense of tranquility and security when he was near. Even Baekhyun’s breathing was doing its part in relaxing you.

He allowed you to bask in his affection, stroking your arm lingeringly and tracing the remaining wet trails on your cheeks with his fingertips. As your breathing slowly came back to normal, he could finally pay attention to the surroundings. There was a small colorful item on the floor that he’d noticed only now. Curious, he picked it up and read the label.

‘Dior Ver- vernis? Is this nail polish?’ He asked in confusion and received a feeble nod from you.

Baekhyun could barely place this item in ‘the big picture’, so he tried asking you again.

‘So… Can you tell me what happened?’

You looked away, avoiding his eyes. He examined your face and was mystified by the embarrassed look that appeared on it out of the blue.

‘Y/N?’

‘It’s- I think it’s hormones again,’ you croaked and looked away.

While this was an excellent excuse, he’d known you well enough to understand that it was one.

‘Tell me everything, honey. What got you upset?’

His palm went back to caressing your baby bump, and you instantly felt loved and cherished from the simple action. Your fidgety fingers lowered to play with his.

‘It’s- nothing serious,’ you confessed. ‘I just- my feet got hideously swollen today… And I had a pedicure appointment. Had to cancel.’

Baekhyun nodded, still unsure of what exactly caused this outburst. Your feet tended to get swollen often these days, this wasn’t news to either one of you, and it was fine, your doctor had said. It couldn’t have been some randomly cancelled appointment that got you in tears, right? Or could it?

‘I- tried doing it myself,’ you continued reluctantly, noticing his puzzlement. ‘But it’s impossible. I can’t even see anything because- because I’m so huge,’ you stifled a sob. ‘And swollen, and clumsy, and-’

‘And beautiful,’ Baekhyun interrupted your rant that was headed the wrong way already.

He could see it now. This was definitely hormone infused but there was also something else underneath. Your husband hummed, a playful expression creeping up his face.

‘Why would this upset you though? You’re only ‘huge’ because you’re carrying our healthy boy,’ Baekhyun’s tone was thick with fondness as he said that. ‘He’s going to be a big one. At this rate I’m willing to bet that he’s going to be taller than Chanyeol. All thanks to his miracle mother.’

You snorted a laugh at his non-scientific statement, finding his warm palm on your stomach. He just loved touching it at all times.

‘What if it’s a girl?’ You whispered, and your husband gasped, now pressing both hands to your belly protectively.

‘Why would you say that! She’d be a model then, and I don’t want my little girl to be one. She’s mine to look at and cherish,’ he pretend grumbled before adding a softer, ‘Just like you.’

Nudging his shoulder timidly, you giggled and bit your lip to contain your bashful smile.

‘Hm, you know what?’ He clicked his tongue, looking like he’d had a revelation. ‘I’m sure pedicure isn’t rocket science; I can do it.’

You barely reacted as he swiftly took the fluffy slipper off your right foot and rested it over his knee.

‘No!’ You tried to retract the limb but he held you by the ankle. In any case, you were way too lumpish to do it gracefully.

‘Oh, come on! You think this can scare me? Those are just feet, Y/N,’ he scolded and looked down, almost jumping. ‘Holy mother of-!’

You squirmed and hid your eyes in your sleeve as he proceeded to laugh at your reaction.

‘I’m kidding, I’m kidding!’ He said in an amicable tone before continuing, ‘I’m sure I can find your toenails in there, somewhere.’

You whined at this and shoved your mischievous husband in the side with the ball of your foot.

‘Alright, alright, calm down. I’m going to put this exquisite shade of pink onto them as neatly as I can. But you have to promise me that you won’t cry if I mess up!’

‘Don’t you dare mess up. Or else you’ll have to make it up to me with three hundred foot rubs,’ you groused, sniffing again to keep your nose from running.

‘Got it. Phew, glad you won’t be able to see it up close anyways,’ he smirked, expertly shaking the nail polish in preparation.

‘Baekhyun!’ You reproached for his shamelessness.

Your husband let out a cheeky laugh and announced:

‘My foot’s falling asleep, so let’s do this!’

He was fully concentrated on your pedicure after that.

A/N: Thank you for reading! I was blown away by the feedback I received for the Duality of Baekhyunie, so I wanted to keep you entertained while I’m working on the sequel and other stuff. I hope you weren’t disappointed ❤

P.S. Tell me in the comments how fast you realized that it’s all about nail polish 😂

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Notting Hill AU Snippet #6

When they finally leave her brother's house, Lena is simultaneously exhausted and wired. Exhausted, because even a good time takes it out of her, and yet wired because the world's most famous woman is right next to her on the sidewalk, nudging shoulders as they walk down the block. It makes for a heady combination, which is the only reason at all that Lena finds herself rising to Kara's challenge of climbing over a wrought iron gate to the garden beyond.

"For the record," she huffs, struggling to find purchase with her bare hands, "I am not dressed for this-- whoopsie daisy!"

What the FUCK did she just say?

"What did you just say?" Kara echoes, her smile audible in the dark.

"Nothing," Lena brushes off as she resets. "Just, trying to get a decent foothold-- whoops!"

She slips again, and this time Kara laughs, the sound loud and musical. "You said whoopsy daisy. Like some mid-century housewife--"

"You keep distracting me!"

"From what? Another whoopsy daisy?" Kara nudges her aside, dusting off her hands. "Step aside, miss priss. Watch the professional work."

Lena obeys, turning her head aside to avoid her nose brushing a very toned, very firm ass as Kara shimmied her way up and over the fence in one try. Lena's mouth goes dry at the smoothness of the motion, and the way Kara's arms strain against the slim cut of her blouse.

Kara may be an actress, but she's clearly no waif.

The woman in question grins at her from the other side of the fence. "You know, you say you're not intimidated by a silly rule, but I think there may be some subliminal hangups..."

Lena scowls. "Oh, like hell."

Boots scrabbling against the fenceposts, Lena hauls herself up through sheer willpower alone. By the time she lands on her feet on the far side, Kara has disappeared further into the garden. With a quiet curse, Lena brushes herself off and straightens her hair before trotting after her.

"Wow..." Kara breathes when Lena catches up. "It's like it's own little world in here."

Lena watches her observe the garden, noting the way her eyes sparkle in the faint light trickling in around them. The field they stand in is lush beneath their feet, and even in the dark the scent of fragrant flowers fills the air.

Kara makes her way over to a bench, and reads the inscription on. "To June, who sat on this bench every day. From John, who always sat beside her."

Lena smiles at the sentiment, and the way Kara's voice softens as she reads it. It's beautiful, and she says so.

"I guess some love does last forever," Kara remarks, half to herself. She sits on the bench, smoothing her hands across the wood as if to ask its owners for the privilege. After a moment, she notices Lena watching. "Come sit with me."

Lena does, and they spend the night with Kara's head on Lena's shoulders, looking at the stars.

---

The next night, they go on a proper date. Or at least they try to, except Lena can't find her glasses and Querl is absolutely no help in finding them, so she watches the entire movie through the prescription lenses of her snorkel mask.

Luckily, it only makes Kara laugh, even if it earns Lena a couple handfuls of popcorn in her hair from being pelted. Afterwards, Lena takes them to her favorite sushi restaurant, and makes a show of ordering in Japanese.

"Arigato gozaimasu," she finishes, handing over her menu. When she looks across the table at Kara, she's pleased to see she's impressed.

"Now how did you learn Japanese if you've never traveled?"

Lena shrugs. "I may have dated a few travelers in my day."

"Uh huh," Kara deadpans. "What else did they show you?"

Looking up, Lena lets a lascivious grin curl her lips. "Maybe I'll get to show you."

Lena revels in the fluster that marks Kara's acceptance of the sake that comes a moment later, and marks the red blush that heats under tan skin. The conversation shifts away, but continues, and Lena lets it, content with the impact she's made.

As the meal winds down, they linger a little bit, trading information they haven't shared yet.

"What's the one place you want to go, above all others?" Kara asks.

Lena sighs. "I don't know." Kara looks at her suspiciously, and Lena lifts her hands. "I could give you the same tripe I give any customer in my shop, but the truth is, the idea of travel has never really been the destination for me."

Kara looks surprised at that. "Oh?"

With a hum, Lena nods. "For me, it's always been more about who you're traveling with. And for a while there, I thought I had someone, but she never wanted to go anywhere. In the end, it turned out she just never wanted to go anywhere with me."

It still aches. Her split with Veronica had been so sudden, it split Lena's entire entire world apart. It had been bad enough to learn that Veronica had well and truly checked out of their relationship long before she ended it. To hear that Veronica had never really been in it in the first place had--

"Then she's an idiot," Kara says, bringing Lena out of her thoughts back to the present day. She reaches across the table, and links their fingers together. "And it's her loss."

Lena forces a grin. "Funnily, that's exactly what my therapist said..."

A round of raucous table from the table behind them drowns out whatever else she might have said. Glancing over, Lena registers a group of young to middle aged men in suits-- likely stock brokers, in this part of town. They were rowdy even when they came in, but now--a round of sake later-- they're downright obnoxious.

The next one who speaks doesn't bother to mind his words or his volume.

"Give me Kara Danvers any day."

Kara meets Lena's eye across the table, rolling her eyes as his buddy chimed in.

"Didn't like her last film. Fell asleep as soon as the lights went down."

"Don't care what the films like-- if it's got Kara Danvers, it's fine by me. I mean, have you seen that ass."

Lena's jaw clenches. Kara's hand slips away, as does her gaze.

"Oh hell yeah," another one continues. "And you know she's just begging for it. Never wonder how she got that gig in Dirty Dancing, did you?"

"It sure as hell wasn't because she could dance!" They all laughed. Lena shifts in her seat, blood boiling, but Kara catches her eye, shaking her head no. Too late.

Lena rises to her feet and marches to the offending table. "Excuse me, boys, but every single person in this restaurant can hear you. And while I'm perfectly happy to watch you reveal yourselves to be the absolute cunts you are, I take exception to the fact that you're talking about a very real person in the process."

The table stares at her, shocked.

"You." Lena glares at the worst offender. "Does your mother know you debase women with the same mouth you use to kiss her on the cheek? How about your girlfriend, though I find it incredibly doubtful you've managed to shag anyone with that kind of charm."

Kara tugs on Lena's arm, trying to pull her away. Lena almost goes, but turns back at the last minute, nearly colliding with the server hurrying in with the table's paid check.

"Actually, I'm not finished. Until each and every one of you learns a woman's favorite song, color and five year goal, you sure as hell don't get to wonder what flavor condom she prefers, you got it?" Her gaze lands on the platinum credit card in the ticket tray, and smirks in triumph when she sees it's a corporate card.

"And I'm sure that Lord Holdings will be thrilled to hear all about how their employees behave while they're out eating on the company's dime."

At that, the man she'd skewered a moment ago finally recovers enough to scoff. "Hah, and what do you care? What are you, her sister?"

"Actually," Kara speaks up, coming to stand beside Lena. "She's my date."

Dead silence follows as every single one of them registers who exactly is speaking. Finally, one of them tries to sputter an apology, but Kara waves it off.

"Oh, no, don't worry about it. I'm sure it was just joking between friends, just as I'm sure your dicks are the size of peanuts. Enjoy your dinner!"

With that, Kara turns away, snagging Lena's hand as she does. Allowing herself to be towed away, Lena flips them the vee and grins, then joins Kara in trotting out of the restaurant.

As soon as they hit the street they both start to cackle, drawing stares as they laugh maniacally. Lena's heart is pounding, as is Kara's, judging from the way she holds a hand against her chest.

"Oh, my god... I-- I've never done that before!" Kara laughs. "I don't know what came over me!"

"What, standing up for yourself? You're a natural!"

"No, you were amazing! I dunno, I just heard you and I saw you facing off against them all alone, and I just-- did that! I just did that!"

Kara laughs again, and Lena tugs her closer by the hips. Pressing a kiss to her lips, Lena smiles at her. "It looks good on you," she purrs. "You should do it more often."

Kara smiles back at her, rubbing her thumbs on the ridges of Lena's hips. "Maybe I will."

Lena could kiss her again, but Kara steps back, tugging them back in the direction of the hotel. "Walk me home?"

The walk back is spent in comfortable silence, but as they near the marquee of the Ritz, Lena's heart starts to pound for a whole new reason when Kara turns to her. "Wanna come up?"

Lena nods. "Yeah. I'd like that."

Kara gives a small of relief, and smiles. "Good. Give me five minutes."

The next five minutes are the longest of Lena's life. But she waits them, hands jammed into her pockets, and counts every second before finally allowing herself to head up to the room.

When she knocks, she isn't entirely sure what to expect. A robe, maybe, left open to reveal tantalzyingly firm abs. Matching lingerie, even, to match Kara's eyes.

What she doesn't expect is Kara fully clothed with panic in her eyes.

"You've got to go," Kara whispers.

Lena freezes, but keeps her smile in place. "Why?" she whispers back.

"Because my boyfriend, who was in America, is in fact here in the next room."

previous / next

[leejungchans]

Hi, it's me again lol. I wanted to request if you could please continue Scaredy Cat if you're up for it cause I just really love that ff and would like to see how you continue the story. Thank you!

— petrichor.

(n.) the pleasant, earthy smell after rain

part of the littera scripta manet series

word count: 1.2k

pairing: shapeshifter!minho (skz) x gender neutral reader

warning(s): mentions of food, swearing, mentions of supernatural stuff (eg. potions)

genre: fluff, humour, non-idol au, supernatural/fantasy au

notes: this is set in the scaredy cat universe but can be read as a stand-alone!! all you need to know is that minho is a cat shapeshifter and reader is a witch/magic user!! ( ◕▿◕ )

summary: minho doesn’t like the rain, but you’re here to change it.

a/n: hi anon!! thank you so much for the request 🥺 i’m honestly not sure how i feel about this one as it definitely isn’t my best, but i hope you will still like it!! 💕 your support means a lot to me and i hope you know that!!

Minho never liked the rain, you think it’s because he’s a cat shapeshifter, and well...you know how it is with cats and water. You had made plans to hang out in the nearby town, but the rain that fell in heavy sheets effectively put those plans to rest.

You hum along to the pattering sound of raindrops hitting the roof of your cottage as you leisurely give the potion bubbling in your cauldron a good stir. When it started raining heavily over a hour ago, you thought you might as well use the time to finally try out that new recipe you got from Lia. By now, the rain had softened significantly, no longer battering mercilessly on your home and the surrounding woods, and coming down in a light, refreshing shower instead.

You close the lid on your cauldron to let the potion simmer on the stove—you’re a modern witch, fuck the huge cauldrons that take forever to clean—as per Lia’s instructions when you notice the first rays of sunlight flowing through the windows.

Sure enough, as you peer out through the glass, the murky grey clouds that previously doused the world in a sombre ambience are parting, allowing the bright sun to peak out from between them.

“Hey,” you gently call out, back turned to the rest of your living room. “The rain’s going to stop soon.”

When you don’t get a response, you turn to find Minho still sleeping soundly in his cat form on your fluffy cushion, though his ears twitch slightly from the distant sound of your voice.

You silently approach the cat before reaching out to gently scratch him between the ears. Minho shifts, his mouth parting with a silent yawn as he opens one of his eyes to glare sleepily at you.

“C’mon, I thought you said you wanted to head to town.”

The tabby burrows his face further into his paws and lets out a strangled meow, and for a moment you think Minho will take a rain check so he could nap more. You really don’t mind if he does, but he was the one who wanted to check out the new café, so you figured you should at least try waking him up.

You take a step back when you see Minho’s cat paws morphing into his hands so as to give him more room to change into his human form. No matter how many times you’ve seen him shift, the process is no less fascinating to you each time, and you wonder what it feels like to transform to and from an animal.

Days after you first met, Minho told you—because you wouldn’t stop bombarding him with questions (pesky, he half-heartedly called you)—that it didn’t hurt or anything, but it was far from enough to satisfy your curiosity.

Vaguely, you remember reading about witches and mages who could also transform into animals. It’s extremely advanced magic, the kind where it’d likely take you decades, if not forever, to get the hang of, let alone master.

Upon fully turning back, Minho yawns again and blinks blearily, leaning back against your couch to stretch his long limbs.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” you tease, “sleep well?”

“Very,” Minho answers with a lazy grin, “and now I’m in the mood for coffee and cake.”

“Okay, just let me turn off the stove and we can head out,” you say as you pad over to the rattling cauldron. Light pink smoke billows out the moment you lift the lid, and you smile with satisfaction. So far so good.

Minho walks up behind you to peek over your shoulder. “What’s this one?”

“Cat repellent potion.”

He scowls, “Not funny.” He was not the least bit amused when he found out that a recipe for said potion actually does exist after previously dismissing your playful threat as you bluffing, and that definitely doesn’t stop you from holding it against him for fun. “Now hurry up, I’m hungry.”

The petrichor (look at you with your fancy words—truly an intellectual) hits you the moment you swing open the creaky door—which Minho also hates and has been begging you to get it fixed (you think it adds character)—and step outside. The sun now shines down brightly on you, reflecting off of the raindrops on your shrubs and the puddles on your cobblestone steps. A content smile makes its way onto your face without you even realising.

Behind you, Minho frowns when his foot lands with a little too much force into a puddle, causing the water to splash up and onto his socks. He can’t help but think about how awful it would feel if he was a cat in this moment. Walking barefoot (barepaw?) on the wet, muddy forest ground? Sticking your whole foot into a puddle which is arguably even worse than stepping into a puddle with socks on?

Yeah, no thank you. Which is why he doesn’t understand why you’re so happily skipping ahead of him, enjoying the aftermath of the pouring rain.

“Why?” he asks once he’s caught up to you.

The lack of context makes you frown slightly. “Why what?”

“Why do you like the rain so much?”

His pout reminds you of a sulky child so much that you laugh. “Don’t you like it?” you ask cheekily despite already knowing his answer.

“No,” Minho states firmly. “It just...makes everything so wet, and gross, and just...yeah, gross. Like, imagining dropping something in a muddy puddle, or scraping dried mud off your shoes, which we definitely have to do later, by the way.” He lifts his foot up to show the mud that has already caked onto the bottom of his boots for emphasis.

“Okay, maybe some points were made,” you admit, “but there’s still so much good that comes with rain. Seriously!” you quickly add when he scoffs loudly, wholly unconvinced.

Minho merely raises a brow at you, as though saying go ahead, but good luck making me change my mind.

“I don’t know, rain is just...so beautiful,” you begin wistfully, “I love the sound of it, or the smell of rain on grass; it nourishes plants and gives some a new life. In a way, it feels like it’s washing away everything that makes us feel...unhappy? Dreary? And yeah, maybe the rain ruins plans and I guess it does make some things gross and wet, but when it stops and the sun comes out...it feels like everything is reborn, like a fresh start...am I making any sense?”

Your shapeshifter friend ponders in silence for a few seconds. “Mm, a little,” he finally says. “Maybe it’s a witch thing, I mean, I have seen you collecting rain water before for your potions. But...I guess I can see it. That doesn’t make the rain any less gross or annoying, though.”

You smile because it’s still a start. “That’s fair, but we should probably hurry up, I think I can see a line forming,” you say, quickening your pace as you point to the beginnings of a queue outside the entrance of the café.

Minho’s eyes widen dramatically. “Oh, shit! Why are you still walking? Last one there cleans our shoes after!” he yells over his shoulder before speeding away.

You take one glance at your shoes and quickly decide that cleaning them is something you definitely won’t enjoy even with the help of spells. Plus, there’s something funny about seeing Minho faced with your muddy sneakers. God, you can totally imagine his features contorted from disgust, and what a sight that would be. So you race after him as fast as you can.

“You’re so on, Lee Minho!”

a/n: here’s the first part of the lsm series!! feedback is always and highly appreciated!! whether it’s a reblog, a reply, or a short ask, it would mean the world to me 🥺💗 and remember that you are more than welcome to chat with me about anything in my asks!!

[develation]

SCP AU

So @emeraldtrainer1 (Ao3), @writingforfunandbecauseboredom (Ao3), and DarkstarWolf53 (<-Dunno if they have Tumblr) did an SCP AU three-way Convo fic some months ago. I really enjoyed the outline and concept and asked if I could expand on it. With their permission and about a month of research into what the actual SCP Foundation is (and holy cow there is so much, no wonder people are all over this) I've finally managed to get a start on this. There is a decent amount of things that are different from their original Convo (via their permission) but it will basically follow the same storyline that they created. Please go check their Convo out, it's a very long and fun read with a lot of good fluff and Angst mixed in.

I will hopefully be drawing some of my designs soon but for now, writing seems to be the way to go. Here is a link to it on Ao3 -> https://archiveofourown.org/works/33213928/chapters/82464553

I'll also have it below in case you would like to read it on Tumblr instead.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Error: (The End Of All But Me.) There are too many unworldly traits that spiders have that I couldn't just not give to Error, so I've kind of combined their Puppetmaster concept to my design. He has 4 arms with clawed fingertips, his tail is prehensile and his jaw can split open. He has 5 tongues still, 2 of them are spear-like, and can shoot out and impale victims. The saliva produced under the tips of the barbs on the two tongues can liquidity a prey items insides so he can drink them up (still a clean freak, using the skin as a cup and drinking up any mess leaving a skin bag behind). His other three tongues are prehensile and can extend to an unknown length, they are barbed aswell but do not carry the venomous saliva. Strings wrap along his bones from his eye sockets, which he uses to create a nest atop the ceiling of his cell.

SCP-002's (Apollyon class) cell is a blank room (it ask for a TV later on) that goes up vertically 2 floors. The top half is required to be shrouded in darkness as it likes voids of either white or black. It has filled the darkness of its cell with a nest of strings that it spends all of its time in, even when feeding. It does not attempt to attack staff, when asked why it replied with, "Not yet." Personal have not been able to decipher what it means by that statement. In an interview via speakers and mics within containment cell, it was asked why SCP-002 stares off at seemingly nothing for extended periods of time and never touches the ground. Subject responded with, "Busy." When asked what it was busy doing- "Watching." When asked what it was watching- "The world. Everything." Due to this experience, it can be concluded that 002 can view any place in the world and perhaps beyond via "screens". These "screens" are unviewable to anyone but 002 and 001 as the latter SCP had called them so, hence their given name. SCP-002 has a strange relationship with SCP-001 and it can not be determined if 002 likes or dislikes 001.

Ink created Error on accident. In the beginning, Ink didn't know what he was doing, and the brutality of Earth's natural forces of destruction were uncontrollable. If he wanted to bring life to his chosen planet he needed a way to control the chaos. And so through the storm, a new force was born. And even if Ink didn't create it, he did wish for it.

Error is a ticking time bomb for extinction. He waits and watches until he decides it's time for a "spring cleaning" and starts his work. The Ordovician, Late Devonian, Permian, Triassic, and Cretaceous mass extinctions were all him. He deemed the human race ready for a "cleaning" a long time ago and Ink agreed with him, ready to see and make something new. But Nightmare threatened the both of them by stating that he would make the earth forever inhabitable and they would have to kill him before he stoped his rage. Nightmare fears that if another extinction event were to occur he'd lose his boys.

Ink: (God doesn't care about what's right or what's wrong. God just wants to watch interesting things happen.) His form is always changing, different traits from different animals and organisms he's created. Ink is basically Gaia. Born when Theia crashed into Earth around 4.5 billion years ago, he made everything that ever existed. Since he's made A LOT of organisms he has a ton of favorites and the traits from them are what mostly show up when he mutates. Sometimes it's Kaprosuchus with belonged snout and fangs. Sometimes it's Tylosaurus with its marine reptilian posterior. Sometimes it's Chital Deer and their antlers. More often than not though, his tail has consistently stated having bristle-like hair at the tip of it, which is basically his brush. The concept of paintbrushes is pretty new to him since the human race has been around for a short time compared to other species, so while he does have one, his tail is his broomie. If his next from doesn't have it then he just uses his hands and his blood.

Ink can't be contained. It's that simple, he just can't. He just sticks around because it's interesting and hilarious to see his creations so intelligent but so stupid. (remember how humans are still young in terms of Earth's age, so the fact that they're so smart... on a thought level that could almost match his own is so very interesting to see and watch. even if there ruining his planet.) The SCP foundation just has to let him do his thing and hope that he doesn't override 003's and 004's decision to not have an extinction event.

His cell is basically a mini-ecosystem, with all of his favorite organisms living within whether they are extinct or not. He loves his little sample of the world and it keeps him in his cell for a good amount of time so the foundation let him have it. If any of them even touch what is HIS without permission then he rips them apart and feeds them to the baby Rhamphorhynchus. Don't touch his babies.

...Cross though... he can touch his babies... and Dream... and maybe Error... That's it though!

SCP-001 (Apollyon Class) is a being older than all living things, despite his toddler-like mannerisms. Even more infuriating, within an interview, 001 openly admitted to being the cause of all SCP's and their anomalous effects. It stated that they were all just mistakes and/or experiments, testing the limits of their own abilities. 001's quoted response- "You don't get it do you? I made everything here! All of your little "SCP's" are just of my creation as all of you. Sure there all mistakes but, it just proves my point that it's time to start over again. A clean slate y'know? Pfft- wow you look mad! If it makes you feel any better, I don't like most of them either. They were cool at first but... it's like flicking black paint over a finished painting. Sure, you can try to get over it but eventually, it will just bother you so much that you just can't stand it! Well... I do kinda want some of them to stay... If I could just convince Ru..." -shows evidence to this conclusion. Termination trials were approved by the 05 Council, though have not been able to start since 001's creation of a barrier around its cell, preventing entry of anything that tries to pass.

[Note: Error, Dream, and Nightmare are not included in what Ink views as "mistakes". Y'know when you're trying something new and you don't know what you’re doing, yet it works somehow. That's them, happy accidents. Ink adores them.]

Ink finds the attempt of Termination trials on him to be absolutely hilarious. The fact that humanity's insecurity about their lifespan and control is so great that they'd try to KILL HIM. Amazing. He can't believe he's managed to make the simultaneously best and worst organism ever.

Dream: (When day breaks.)  Again he was accidentally created by Ink’s actions in an intense solar storm. The flare drifting over the earth in combination with Ink’s magic still working to bring life brought him to existence. Dream’s design is almost harpy-like, with beautiful golden, sun-like wings with a small feathery crest atop his skull. Two tail-like feathers sprout from the crest that can rise up and down depending on expression and mood. He also has bird feet and legs, and a tail.

Dream adores all life, his is the warmth and growth of the sun (original form being a ball of light and plasma that literally looks like a mini sun). He is basically like a piece of the sun on earth. His cell is kinda like Ink’s, only in the fact that there are just a couple of animal species. Some deer, birds, and insects mainly. Ink obviously just appeared in his cell one day and made it for him. While Dream could be considered to be a Safe SCP, his ability to damage or completely ruin the planet if inraged prevents that classification.

SCP-003 (Apollyon Class) has proven to be a relatively docile creature. It is elegant in nature (like that of a bird) and shows greater empathy towards all life in general. Unlike SCP’s 001, 002, and 004 who view it as more interesting and admirable, more like a pretty crystal than an actual being with its own consciousness. 003 can not be fully contained and has shown the ability to travel through light rays. Its aura has also shown to be some form of anesthesia, and exposure for prolonged periods causes victims to feel more at peace and calm. 003 does have the capability to travel through the “dreamscape”, what exactly that in tails is unknown.

Dream doesn’t agree with the extinction event thing because the Holocene period hasn’t lasted for nearly as long as it should. On the other hand, he does distaste humanity/monsterkind for all it has done to the planet. Even so, he feels like they deserve more of a chance.

Nightmare: (Does the Black Moon howl?)(Death) Complete with the theme of being Dreams opposite, Nightmare was born from a black moon and the combination of Ink’s magic bringing life to the earth. He isn’t an evil force or anything, just the night to the day. His design is pretty true to OG nightmare, although his legs and feet share the same digitigrade format. His tentacles are more ghostly than slimy and they drip upwards instead of towards the ground. His bones also have a ghost;y wisp to them, but it isn’t that noticeable. Instead of only having a turquoise glint in his magic, there are sparks of purple aswell. (His original form being a black sphere of what looks like smoke).

His cell is basically an entrance to a cave system that Ink had made for him. Inside is a galaxy of crystals and gemstones that glow and sparkle like the night sky. A small stream runs through, the light refracting off of the water, adding to the glow effect. It is a nice calm place for Nightmare to just chill in, his separate own little world.

Nightmare is kind of mysterious, in the realm of Error in which he likes to watch things happen. Just lurking in the shadows, a quiet observer. Though, he wasn’t as fascinated by life as the others. So to prevent his boredom Ink made him a present- Killer. Nightmare hated the little thing at first but it didn’t take too long to grow fond of the little guy. Not too long later Ink pronounced his joy in watching Nightmare sigh in frustration by sending 2 more bundles his way -Dust and Horror- and Nightmare had to threaten Ink to stop before any more joined the fray.

SCP-004 (Apollyon Class) is an entity whose intentions are completely unknown. A mysterious being that chooses to dwell in the cave system 001 made for it. The entity refuses to interact with personal unless in interview. And when it does respond, it does so in riddles and metaphors. It seemingly takes joy asking more questions than the interviewer, turning the conversation in its favor. On such question that has been repeated multiple times - “Does the Black Moon howl?” has puzzled personal. Though 004 states that if answered correctly and explained why, then it will share its secrets with that person and that person only.

004 proves to be uncontainable like its counterparts, able to travel through shadows. SCP’s 012, 032, and 024 seem to be “followers” of 004, and regularly go missing from their cells. Most likely 004’s doing.

[Ink created Killer, Dust, and Horror during the era where dinosaurs were still alive, so they have some traits from them.]

Killer: (War) Was created by Ink for Nightmare to keep him entertained. Killer was born as a baby in Ink’s very hands, a little skeleton with curved blades for hands and digitigrade legs and feet (and little quills on his back). Growing up under Nightmare’s care was an interesting experience, but he thought Kill’s everything he needed to know.

-[SCP-012, Keter]-

Killer is fast, very fast. And he enjoys killing things (what a surprise). He’s pretty much the same cocky boi as always. His more SCP side is that he doesn’t seem to ever feel pain and the black liquid that leaks through his eyes. That can be used as a type of venomous toxin to whatever he pleases.

Dust: (Pestilence) You know Epidexipteryx and Therizinosaurus? Those are Dust hands, long with even longer claws. He can also turn into literal dust, more of a phantom or wraith in nature. He can walk through walls, and turn others to dust and grow himself if he wishes.

He and Horror could be twins since Ink made them both at the same time. Holding his little creations in his arms as they wriggled and whined in confusion at suddenly being alive.

-[SCP-032, Keter]-

Dust is pretty quiet and tame. He has his episodes but he stays pretty much the same as bookwrym’s, writing’s, and Dark’s Dust.

Horror: (Famine) Since Horror is a vent crawler I based his design on that. Horror’s second set of arms are like a praying mantis with an extra joint, hands serrated blades almost like Killer’s. He used to sit in trees and wait for prey to walk underneath him, plucking them from the ground with his long arms and eating them alive.

Same thing when in vents, just waits over the openings and plucks a person off of the ground and into the vent (if personal don’t keep up with his feeding times)

-[SCP-024, Euclid]-

Other than his design Horror is pretty much the same as bookwyrm’s, writing’s, and Dark’s concept.

Outer: [SCP-044, Safe] His stardust makes him have luminescent galaxy and star patterns on his bones. He floats regularly without control over it and can sometimes make other objects float, in rare cases people, aswell. Ink made him a jacket where pieces of its hood and aglets float off like a sort of fluffy foam. The pieces orbit him like planets to a star before joining back, making a continuous cycle.

(And yes writingforFUN, he will still keep his anime sparkling eyelight’s).

Cross: [SCP-00X, Thaumiel] Was created by Dr. X to help contain and terminate Keter SCP’s. Being forced to kill his brother when he turned Keter, not completely in control of his actions. Dr. X’s “programing” making him see his brother no longer as such, just an object to be eliminated. When Cross became uncontrollable Dr. X put wiped his memory without the 05’s or administers permission and an MTF was sent after him that came back empty-handed. Cross was brought back soon enough and had his memory wiped.

They bring him back in as a staff member and that’s when the story kicks off, mostly following bookwyrm’s, writingforFUN, and Dark’s original outline/convo.

(I apologize for any typos)

[homeformyheart]

cottage by the sea - adam du mortain x f!detective (twc)

author’s note: this is an AU featuring my A-mancing detective in old age, after choosing not to be turned. i hope you enjoy, and i’m sorry in advance for the really deep feels and potential tears.

copyright: all characters, except my oc detective, are owned by mishka jenkins @seraphinitegames. series/pairing: the wayhaven chronicles  – adam du mortain x f!detective (regina bishop) rating/warnings: 16+; grief, sadness word count: 2.4k summary: regina makes adam promise he’ll watch over their family even after she’s gone and he keeps that promise.

cottage by the sea

adam looked over at his wife’s sleeping form, the bright moonlight casting a shadow over his body and enveloping hers in darkness. he closed his eyes and listened for her heartbeat, steady and slow… very slow these days.

regina mumbled something incoherent in her sleep before rolling onto her back. for a nanosecond, adam thought she might have woken up, offering him a chance to look into her beautiful eyes. it’s been a long time since he realized that just one glance from her with those soulful eyes set his heart thumping just a little faster.

when they started their relationship decades ago, he told himself every day that he could come to terms with her mortality as long as he didn’t take her for granted. that he cherished every moment he had with her, and made sure that she knew she was loved wholly and fully by him. so that he could look into the eyes of the love of his life each day.

despite her old human age, regina’s eyes sparkled with mischief and a softness that stole his breath. even though her movements were slow and her mind wasn’t as sharp as it used to be, her clear blue eyes spoke volumes for her. it was his favorite feature of hers, and the one that he missed most often when they weren’t together.

20 years ago

adam looked over regina’s shoulder at their bundled up grandchild, who was sleeping soundly as she gently rocked him. he felt her heart flutter and knew his was doing the same. never in his wildest dreams did he ever think he would get to hold his grandchild.

“he’s so beautiful,” she whispered, her cheeks pulled back in an ear-to-ear smile.

“just like you, my love,” he murmured back, leaning in to give her a soft kiss against her temple.

regina looked at him with a softness to her gaze and adam was grateful that he didn’t really need to breathe. even after all these years, she still took his breath away.

it was short lived, however, as a wistfulness replaced the affection from before. “i’ve been meaning to talk to you about us,” she said slowly, moving to lower their grandchild back in his crib.

adam felt his stomach clench as he followed her into their bedroom. he was sure he wasn’t going to enjoy this conversation, something about regina’s tone felt… foreboding, even though her heartbeat was calm.

she sat down on the bed and patted the spot next to her. adam fought the urge to insist on standing, which was his default stance in the face of danger or uncertainty and sat down on the bed. regina grabbed his hand and held it between both of hers before looking up at him.

“i know you promised you would wait until i was ready to talk about it and that you would respect my decision,” she started hesitantly. the furrow in her brow told adam that this was a heavy topic that had been weighing on her, and his heart sank.

she looked up at him with a smile, but her eyes wavered with sorrow. “i don’t want to be turned adam. i want to live out my human life.”

adam felt a sob lodge in his throat. he swallowed a few times, trying to will the emotions that were threatening to spill back down into his stomach.

“are you sure?” he asked, his tone even despite the fear he was sure she could see in his eyes. she was always really good at that. he lifted a hand to cup her cheek.

regina leaned into his palm and closed her eyes. “i’m sure. adam, i… don’t want you to have to see me old and gray,” she said quietly. she took a deep breath before continuing, “i also don’t want you to have to watch me die.” regina kept her eyes closed. if she looked into his, her resolve would waver.

adam could only stare at her incredulously. how could she even think that he wouldn’t want to be by her side every moment he could? a lifetime ago he may have agreed that distance would make things easier and he would’ve been more inclined to agree with her. but not anymore.

there was a part of him that had always known, deep-down, that regina would refuse to be turned. she felt being human was a part of her identity she didn’t want to lose and felt that it was her humanity that brought her and adam together.

but he never considered a scenario where he wouldn’t live out the rest of her days by her side.

“no.” his tone was firm and unyielding.

to his surprise, regina smirked. “you can’t order me around anymore, commanding agent du mortain.”

adam felt his gaze soften. “no,” he repeated, this time his voice was gentler but hoarse from holding back the lump in his throat. “i will not leave you. i… don’t think i can bear to live without you.”

“oh adam,” regina said softly, leaning in to rest her forehead on his. “i don’t want to leave you either. but i need you to live on.”

“it would break me,” he admitted, letting out a heavy sigh.

regina pulled her head back and gently cupped his face in her hands, tilting his head up so he was looking at her. “promise me then. promise me you’ll continue on and watch over our family.”

she felt adam’s head move slightly back in surprise and his eyebrows rise. she held him firmly in place, the resolve in her eyes burning an image forever into his memory. “you’ll get to see our family line grow - our great great great grandchildren will get to know you and me and our story. the du mortain line will live on. promise me, adam.”

adam was stunned. “i… i don’t know if i can do that. our family will continue to have each other. for me, there is only you.”

regina smiled. “that’s where you’re wrong, agent. a part of me is in every single member of our family – including unit bravo and they need you more than you’re willing to admit. you’ll see me in them, if you choose to do so, on days when it’s a little easier to live with my memory. just know that i’ll always be with you.”

he was silent. regina knew he was processing; the emotional weight of her request and the implications were not lost on her, but adam probably felt it more deeply. having already lived almost a millennium, it wouldn’t be difficult for him to envision what another millennium would be like without her.

after a few, quiet minutes, she added a gentle pressure from her palm to nudge him into responding. “promise me, adam. that’s an order,” she said gently, with a hint of playfulness.

adam let out a heavy, weary sigh. “alright, i promise.”

every year, every birthday, was equal parts agony and bliss for adam. sharing every part of him with the love of his eternal life and sharing in every part of her mortal one year after year brought him so much joy that he wondered if any of it was being amplified by his hypersenses. he never knew feeling this much joy was even possible.

but it also made him wonder if the unavoidable pain he’d feel after she was gone would also be magnified, hypersenses or not. if the loss of joy would shatter him to pieces. as he watched regina’s body go through the physical changes that came with being human, he counted each one. each new wrinkle, especially around her eyes and smile. each new gray hair, especially after she stopped dying it. each kiss, caress, and laugh. even the tears, although they became few and far between as they got older, because he wanted to memorize every part of their life together.

and of course, every single moment. the mornings he got to wake up by her side. the nights they got to cuddle in silence. the afternoons curled up on the deck looking at the ocean waves, holding hands while balancing a book or a glass of wine in the other. the one thing they had agreed on early in their relationship was that they wanted to build a cozy little home by the sea. he loved feeling as though they had reserved a little corner of the world, just for them.

he kept these to himself, of course, branded deep into his soul so he’d never forget. each night he’d hold her until she fell asleep, and he’d close his eyes and count. once he was sure his count was up-to-date and after regina had fallen asleep, he’d go back to work for a few hours. it was a comfortable routine, one that he hoped would help him after she was gone.

tonight though, adam couldn’t bring himself to leave even though he was supposed to check in at the facility. as he listened to her quiet breathing and soft heartbeats, he knew being late would be worth it. she had fallen asleep earlier than usual tonight, exhausted from spending the day sitting out in front of the house and looking out at the ocean. it took a lot of effort for her to move about these days, especially since she still stubbornly refused to let him carry her everywhere.

he tucked her in and held her until she fell asleep, like he did every night he could, and closed his eyes next to her so he could resume his counting. 20 years feels very different while counting memories in the hundreds of thousands and millions.

adam had just finished counting when he felt it. felt her heart grow quieter and quieter until it was silent. his eyes flew open and he sat up in the bed, leaning over her still body. his heartbeat was pounding in his ears and he willed it to calm down so he could listen for hers. nothing. he reached out and shook her gently as a lump lodged in his throat.

please, regina, open your eyes. let me see your eyes just one more time, my love, he thought, gently lifting and cradling her body against his chest.

“please,” adam whispered as he kissed her, closing his eyes and trying to ingrain the softness and scent of her into his memory.

his heart knew that she was physically gone but he continued to rock her body back and forth in his arms. he kissed her forehead and for the first time in a millennium, wept openly.

* * * * * they all mourned. unit bravo, all of adam’s children and grandchildren, and seemingly half the agency came out in droves for the wake. it took every ounce of willpower, over 900 years’ worth, for adam to remain collected in front of everyone. he just kept hearing regina’s voice in his head, gently telling him, “take care of them and yourself, and you’ll be taking care of me, too.” and he was nothing if not a man of his word.

the renovated farris warehouse had been beautifully decorated in her favorite flowers for the wake. it was the only space in town big enough for all the people that wanted to pay their respects. regina’s dedication to the agency and protection of both humans and supernaturals made her a beloved colleague, much like her mother before her. they had to hold two separate wakes, one for the humans of wayhaven, and one for those that were part of the supernatural world. he was grateful that he wouldn’t have to interact with the wayhaven townsfolk, but he still could only take so many condolences and empty statements of comfort from people he didn’t really know.

thankfully, the funeral and burial itself was kept small and private. it was just unit bravo and his grown children in a quiet ceremony before they watched their favorite person be buried next to her parents in the bishop family plot.

adam visited her grave every day, with stargazer lilies, her favorite flowers in hand. sometimes he went alone and other times at least one member of unit bravo would join him. some days he would talk to her, tell her how their children and grandchildren were doing, including unit bravo. other days he would leave the flowers and walk away immediately, not wanting to dwell in the emotions that threatened to break him.

he kept himself busy and asked the agency for as many cases and missions that they would be willing to assign to unit bravo. he was grateful that his team didn’t complain; they understood why they weren’t taking breaks between missions. they all welcomed the distraction from thinking about regina. the years passed this way, never dulling the ache in his heart but still giving him purpose to move forward, if only to keep his promise.

and keep his promise, he did. adam was not going to let her down.

he watched over their family as it continued to grow in number, a new generation of children eventually helping him overcome the loss of the generation before them before the cycle continued. he learned about what they did in the world and documented it, starting a new family tree with him and regina at the top. nate helped craft narratives and stories of his descendants’ lives in a scrapbook of sorts, doing so without saying anything after noticing adam struggle one day to write anything besides bulleted facts down on a piece of paper.

every generation in his family was different, yet similar in some respects. some turned away from him once they found out that he was a vampire, others were either unfazed or excited. sometimes things changed as they got older and saw how he didn’t age one bit. watching his descendants die before him never got any easier.

but watching them learn and grow and thrive was worth all of the pain and heartache. he would smile to himself when he realized in those moments that regina had been right. taking care of their family would help him continue to live. and he had his team right beside him too.

the du mortain line didn’t just rise again, it flourished.

* * * * * permatag: @kelseaaa; @kat-tia801; @anotherbeingsworld; @crackerdumortain; @pearlsandsteel; @gloynporslen; @writer-ish; @sosolenoo; @alyssalauren; @fhauvilles; @wayhavenots; @gingerbreton; @takemyopenheart;

[mish-tique]

hii i’m loving your fics and looking forward to reading more! i’ve started to get into abo thanks to you so i thought i’d request an abo fic with pierre/max (alpha pierre and omega max preferred) kind of a didn’t know they were dating kind of situation where everyone assumes they are together because of how much they smell of each other and them eventually realizing they like each other, would love to also see people’s reaction when they realize they weren’t dating before

hi sweetie!

Thank you for your kind words! I'm really happy you like my fics and that I have made you enjoy omegaverse a bit more. Your prompt sounded really cute so here we go! I made it a college au so I apologise if you wanted a grid au, don't be afraid to message me if you want something else!

Might not be perfect but it was really cute to write so....

Here we gooo, hit "read more" to read the whole thing or follow this link to my ao3 account.

“Pierre, what are we eating tonight?”

“The better question would be if you have done the groceries today.”

“….I can go right now.”

“I’ll look up something for tonight as long as you get me the stuff I need. We need to cook properly more often, you like to order in way too much.”

Max just raises an eyebrow at Pierre because while technically his flatmate isn’t wrong, it’s not his fault that he can’t cook. The alpha opens his laptop and Max already knows he’s going through his bookmarks. Pierre liked reading those food blogs while Max never understood what could be so enjoyable about reading recipes. He has no right to complain though, Pierre’s cooking abilities most likely is the only thing keeping them alive.

Two years ago they both started the same college course. Since secondary genders were mixed the teachers wanted to stimulate intergender communication and work by always pairing an omega and an alpha. More often than not Max was stuck with alpha’s who thought they didn’t need to do anything. That Max would just do everything like they asked and that those assholes would just get good grades. But he wasn’t like that. During his life he had been surrounded by quite a few older and strong-willed omega’s that showed him that he didn’t need to listen to anyone’s commands. So when his partner was too much of an asshole he’d just turn in his project with only his name on it.

Pierre though, he had been the first alpha that threated him with complete respect. It made the progress on the projects way easier and Max enjoyed having someone he could work together nicely with. Teachers must have noticed that both their names were always on the project and paired them together more often. After that they started to sit together during classes, breaks and even plan stuff outside of school. Their friendship developed quite fast and they soon went from discussing project plans to looking for flats they could rent together.

Renting houses was quite expensive in this area was way too expensive to go without a flatmate for long. That had been the sole reason for moving in, but Max definitely didn’t mind being able to spend more time with Pierre. Traveling home alone as an omega after a night of projects, movies or even drinking became annoying quite fast. Pierre did offer to walk him home for safety but they soon developed a rhythm in which they just stayed over, sometimes even sleeping in the same bed. It felt safe, not that Max wanted to admit that to anyone.

“Found it,” Pierre announces and Max observes how he notes down all the ingredients on their grocery list, making it even longer than it already was. It slightly annoys him because grocery shopping isn’t his favorite thing to do.

“I’ll back in an hour,” he tells the alpha with a pout, getting a roll of his eyes and a smile in return. “You’re going to get food, not present the results of your research to Ms. Grocher. Stop acting like you’re going to die, you idiot.”

“It’s close enough,” Max argues and he leaves their apartment with a laugh. Grocery shopping isn’t even that hard, Pierre actually notes down the stuff in order of how you walk through the shop. That way he doesn’t have to search for everything individually, because Pierre soon found out that sometimes left the omega in the shop for half a day, or coming home with only half of the stuff they needed.

It’s not too busy, which is a relief. Being stifled by scents, hormones and have bodies pressing against him that aren’t Pierre’s isn’t something Max was looking forward to. That one song the alpha had on repeat this week is stuck in his head so he hums it and he starts planning what they could do this weekend.

Lando said he needed an omega night this weekend so he’s going to be gone on Friday night. But maybe he could watch a movie with Pierre on Saturday night? And the weather was supposed to be amazing on Sunday so they could go shopping first before visiting the park.

And Pierre had been talking about getting a cat too so maybe they could call the shelter so they could visit on Sunday? He hadn’t been completely convinced at first but the more he saw Pierre’s eyes sparkle when talking about it, the more he was willing to incline. The image of them sitting in the sun on their balcony with the little feline playing around their feet doesn’t stop it either.

“Yo, Verstappen! Are you going to keep ignoring me?

A mad French accent stops his planning and he’s suddenly faced with Charles. “What no,” he replies, “I wasn’t ignoring you at all.”

Charles gives him an unimpressed look, the familiar scent of the omega softly interacting with his. “You’ve been staring at that shrimp for 5 minutes now. Unless it reminds you of Pierre I can’t imagine it’s that interesting.”

Why would it remind him of Pierre?

Wait. He really has been slow today so he shakes his head. “No of course it doesn’t you pervert, stop thinking about his dick please. I’ve just been thinking about our plans for this weekend.”

A grin appears on Charles’ face and Max really feels like he’s missing something. “Anything special? Pierre doesn’t tell me anything lately.”

“Well, Friday night is going to be with you guys. I’m going to look for a movie for Saturday to make up for it and we’re probably going to go shopping and visit the shelter on Sunday. You know how Pierre has been talking about getting a cat,” he explains.

“Wait, you’re getting a kid together?” Max can literally smell how surprised the other omega is, but honestly has Charles hit his head?

“No, we’re getting a cat. Like I just told you.”

“Man Max, how are you a top student when you’re this slow? One day there is going to be an alpha who tricks you into being his. Getting pets together is like starting a family, those little rats are going to be part of you two. Lord knows how the two of you got together, both of you can be so oblivious.”

Should he start worrying about Charles? “Pierre and I aren’t-“

But before he could fully explain that Charles misunderstood, he’s getting called away. “I’ll come to visit after the two of you get your kid, I want to see the little rat!”

“Who says I’m going to let you?!”

Max is still grumbling about it when he gets home. How is it that Charles is that confused about the two of them? He doesn’t pay Pierre much mind, walking past him to the kitchen without saying much. This has never been something Max had to overthink but now it feels like he’s years too late.

Suddenly there are two warm hands on his hips and he feels Pierre stand behind him. He gets pulled back into somewhat of a hug and he’s being scented. It’s strange because Pierre normally doesn’t do it like this, so out of nowhere. They live together so of course they smell like each other, sometimes scenting each other after a bad day, after news or just on the couch while watching a movie. But he doesn’t resist it because it smells like home, it’s warm and relaxing and it stops Max from stressing over Charles’ words.

Because as much as he couldn’t explain it to Charles, he can’t explain it to himself either. They live together, always have plays together and he really enjoys Pierre’s company. He really hopes it’s the other way around too because he wouldn’t mind staying like this, together, for a long time. He wouldn’t mind staying like this forever, his mind corrects him, because he really doesn’t know how he would cope if he would have to do everything without Pierre.

And that realization scares him as much as it settles him down. Because it’s new, risky and it could have him loose everything but at the same time it explains so much. Even Charles’ words make sense now. Together with Pierre, Max feels like he could take on the world. And having a little kitten with them would feel like the first extension of their family.

Yet it’s scary that he could lose everything that is this because he doesn’t truly know if Pierre feels the same.

“Max, love, what’s wrong? Can you tell me what happened, sweetheart?”

Pierre’s scent is concerned, his hug from behind even stronger and Max never realized just how much the alpha seemed to care about him too. “Why aren’t we one yet?”

He doesn’t specify anything because they could be so much. They could be boyfriends, lovers, mates, each other’s and so much more. Hell, even family could be used to describe it but he’s so unsure of what Pierre would want them to be that he doesn’t dare to label it.

Max feels Pierre still and he stops breathing for a second. This could go so wrong. “Would you be willing?”

The question is soft and sweet and everything Max would want to hear but something in him breaks because he has never heard Pierre so insecure. It triggers something in him because how can Pierre not see that he would give up the world if the alpha asked. He breaks free from the alpha’s grip, turns around and faces Pierre. “I would be more than willing,” he promises.

He can smell their scents spiking and he looses himself in the feeling of Pierre kissing him, scenting him, marking him. He has never felt this whole before and he has absolutely no regrets. It’s like he found that last thing he didn’t know yet his heart was missing.

“Please, please,” he begs, not even quite sure what he’s truly asking for. He just knows that after so long he wants to be Pierre’s, completely his. And have the alpha as his to have, to share his life with.

“Are you sure? Max, I want you to be completely sure, I can’t have you regret this,” Pierre asks him and the alpha’s voice grounds him, breaks him free from the desperation and the want for a few seconds. Just long enough.

“I’ve never been so sure of something,” he replies and lets himself be lead into the bedroom they’ve been sharing most nights, too lazy to go to their own. Anything else is forgotten, he only feels the love he holds for Pierre.

It’s omega night and he’s jittery for some reason. Like he wants to go home to Pierre but he doesn’t have to be, so why? It’s strange because he has never been overly dependent on someone and he doesn’t like to be. But something in him longs for his alpha and he doesn’t completely hate it. Pierre told him that he should just enjoy tonight, they still had the whole weekend so he let himself enjoy the presence of the other omega’s. Or at least, he’s trying.

He’s in the middle of the omega pile, surrounded by calm and loving scents as he listens to the others give Lando advice on how to finally confess to Carlos. Hell, Max always thought the kid was hopeless about love but after last week he realized he was just as bad.

The conversation dies and Max finds himself hesitating, still somewhat scared to let himself be so vulnerable. “Did anyone else become really clingy after the first time together with their alpha?”

It’s silent for a second before Lando groans and mumbles, “Does this mean I have to wait more than a year before Carlos is going to fuck me?”

Seb sighs and apparently decides to interfere to calm the younger omega down. “No Lando, you don’t need to wait a year. You can wait if you want to, both are totally fine. It’s different for everyone. I’m sure Max just got reminded of the early stages of his relationship because of your talk.”

Well. Max doesn’t want to be the one to tell Seb that he’s wrong but he is, so it seems he has to. “We only got together a few days ago.”

Lando squeaks, “Does that mean I can get fucked that fast?”

Charles slaps Lando before sassing him. “You could’ve long been fucked already if you had just gotten your shit together and confessed. Carlos always gives you heart eyes,” before he turned to Max, “So you’re telling me you weren’t actually together when you told me about your little family plans?”

He shakes his head.

“How did you manage to live together with him so long before confessing your love to him? We could all see how smitten you guys were, hell we could even smell it. You two were disgustingly cute.”

Max thought about it for a bit. “Sometimes you don’t need to declare something for it to be. It just felt so right that I never really thought about it, it didn’t feel necessary. Now I know that maybe I should’ve because it made me even happier.”

“You smell disgustingly in love,” Charles tells him, “but for your information, I went into heat immediately after my first time. You might want to tell Pierre to prepare for that.”

Oh.

Oh.

Help.

[lavenderlattaes]

the night we met. | jeon jeongguk

⇒ summary: and on a cold winter’s night just before the start of a brand new year, you meet a boy who changes your entire new year for the better. 

⇒ [ ghost! au ]

⇒ pairing: jeon jeongguk x reader

⇒ word count: 4.7k words

⇒ genre: light fluff, angst

⇒ warnings: mentions of cheating, breakup, and death

⇒ note: hello! it’s been so long since i wrote a long bts fic, huh? but i’m back again with a new one and this is one of my entries to @btsghostiewritersnet​ ‘s Bingo Bash! It falls under my ghost! au tile and i hope you guys like this! please don’t hesitate to tell me what you think. enjoy! (also this is the third time im reposting bc the tags haven’t been working for me hhh)  ＼ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ／

i.

The cold night air nips at your frozen, flushed cheeks as you hold back tears. Of all the days of the year, why did you have to end up alone and heartbroken on New Year’s Eve? Your tired, Timberland boots clad feet lead you to the park you frequented with your boyfriend before he decided to lock lips with someone else that wasn’t you. You walk past the benches and the playground and find yourself by the crystal lake that was still frozen over by the cold winter. You crouch down on your feet, your fingers reaching out to glide across the icy surface.

You sniffle softly, your mind going back to the events a few hours prior as your heart breaks. You shut your eyes tightly and let the tears fall freely, the hot tears warming up your frozen cheeks. Loud, heartbreaking sobs wrack your entire body until you can hardly breathe anymore.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. 

How could he do that to you? How could he break your heart in the most cliché way possible? How could he break his promise of a forever with you? You were stupid to think he’d actually love you for as long as you breathed the same air, for as long as you lived.

“You’re going to get sick if you keep crying out here in this cold weather.” A shy, timid voice rings out from behind you, and your sobs quiet down slowly. You immediately wipe your tears away, and sniffle again before turning around.

Your eyes lock with a pair of soft, gentle, brown, doe-like eyes the moment you turn around. A handsome boy around your age stares at you, his hands buried deep in his pockets. You break away from his glance momentarily to wipe the few tears that still manage to escape. You let out another gentle sniffle before standing up. You brush your hands against your jeans, the snow falling down your fingers and down onto the ground.

Your eyes, nose, and cheeks are all red now, and the boy purses his lips before pulling out a small handkerchief. His right hand extends out to you, offering the small piece of cloth. You look at it and back up at his face. He stares at you and you timidly reach forward, taking it. You give him a small nod and he just nods back, as you turn to the side slightly, blowing your nose into it. He lets out a chuckle at that, and you feel your cheeks heat up. 

“Thanks,” you whisper once you’re done, and you stuff the handkerchief into your pocket as you turn back to face him. 

“Why were you crying?” The boy asks and you sigh, plopping back down onto the ground. He approaches you gently, before going down on his knees to sit beside you. You glance at him to find his gaze trained on the empty, frozen lake in front of you both.

“My boyfriend cheated and broke up with me,” you answer, the words leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. 

“On New Year’s Eve?” The boy asks again and you nod, as he chuckles. You turn to look at him with a light frown.

“What’s so funny?” 

“My girlfriend broke up with me too on New Year’s Eve,” the boy tells you, and he turns to meet your gaze.

“Maybe you weren’t supposed to spend the next year together. Maybe this happened to you because you’re supposed to be with someone better than him.” He says softly, as the wind blows around you both, making you shiver lightly. The boy notices you shivering and shrugs his thick coat off, throwing it around your shoulders.

“It’s okay, I’m fine,” you try to decline but he shakes his head. “You’ve been crying, you know. You need to warm up if you don’t want to get sick.”

“Thanks,” you mutter, pulling the coat tighter around you.

“I’m Jeongguk.” The boy finally introduces himself and you manage to crack a small smile.

“I’m Y/N.”

ii.

An incessant tapping sound rings in your bedroom in the middle of the night, waking you up in the process. You groan from the annoying noise, rolling over in your sheets as you try to get yourself to get out of bed.

Tap, tap, tap.

“Y/N, open up!” you hear a familiar voice call your name, making your eyes snap open, fully awake now.

You get up and rush over to the window, your eyes meeting those same, doe-like, eyes you first met one year ago. He grins at you, the corners of his eyes crinkling up in amusement as you squint at him, your fingers reaching over to unlock the window. The cold air brushes inside the room as you let the boy in.

Jeongguk lands on his feet gracefully, barely making a sound against the hardwood floor. He glances at you with a grin as you roll your eyes at him.

“What are you doing here? It’s late,” you ask him, walking back to your bed. He climbs in with you, crossing his legs as he leans on his arms for support, facing you.

“It’s been exactly one year since we met, don’t you remember?” your best friend grins at you as your mind finally registers the date. Your eyes glance at the digital clock perched on your bedside, and the red numbers glare in the dark room. 

12:03 am, 2021-12-31.

“Happy one year of friendship…?” You suggest sheepishly, turning back to face the boy. He grins and lunges forward at you, trapping you in a bone-crushing hug. Your body falls back on the bed as Jeongguk moves his full weight on top of you, making you whine.

“You’re heavy!” You choke out from underneath him, but he only lets out his melodious laughter ring out in the quiet room.

“Oh, come on, you love me!” He giggles and you’re furiously slapping his back, trying to get him off of you.

“If I say that, will you get off of me?” you breathe out and he immediately rolls off to the side, making you gasp for air dramatically. He rolls his eyes before perching his head up on his arm. He turns to your side, grinning at you as you glare at him playfully.

“For real though,” you begin once you’ve caught your breath, “I really do love you.” You admit, the sincerity in your voice and the gentleness of your tone making the atmosphere suddenly shift. It’s silent now, and Jeongguk just stares at you, his mouth partly open.

“You made me happier. I thought I didn’t want to keep smiling after what my boyfriend did. I know he doesn’t deserve me pining over him so hopelessly but I still continued believing he would somehow tell me it was all in my head. I hoped he would chase after me that night, but he never did.” You say quietly, your eyes trained on the ceiling. It was covered in stars, not the plastic, glow-in-the-dark kind, but hand-painted stars that Jeongguk and you both painted a few months ago. Well, he did most of it while you just cheered him on, dancing around in your room to whatever was playing on his Spotify radio back then.

Jeongguk’s free hand comes up to cup your face, turning your cheek to face him. “I just wanted to see you smile. That’s all that I ever really wanted. You looked so sad when we first met. I’ve never seen anyone so sorrowful that I even felt my own heart breaking.”

Maybe it was the way he looked at you — like you were his entire world, or the way he cupped your face in his hand — like you were some delicate china doll he couldn’t bear to break, or the way he always hugged you — like he never wanted to let go, that made you realize maybe you’ve already fallen for your best friend. 

Maybe you really were supposed to break up with your boyfriend before you welcomed the new year because you were supposed to spend that new year with Jeon Jeongguk instead.

“I love you.”

The words fall past your lips and out into the silent night. It doesn’t register in your mind until Jeongguk smiles softly at you, leaning in close to kiss your forehead.

“I love you too.”

You smile up at him and he just scoots closer to you on the bed, wrapping his arms around you tightly. That night, you fall asleep in Jeongguk’s warm embrace, your breaths mingling, your hearts beating at the same slow, steady, and calm pace.

When you wake up the next day, he’s gone. It doesn’t faze you though, because he’s always snuck inside your room late at night and left before you woke up. But a small part of you hoped that he would be there when he woke up, especially since things have somehow changed between you now.

His scent still lingers in the air, and the side of your bed where he lay was still warm, the sheets slightly crinkled. A small note peaked out from underneath your phone, and you know it’s from him. The handwriting says it all.

Meet me at the lake later tonight. i love you <3

A smile makes its way onto your face, instantly boosting your mood for the rest of the day.

And just like one year ago, the cold night air nips at your frozen, flushed cheeks as this time, you try to hold back an excited smile. You take excited skips toward the park, your fingers brushing along the benches and the trees. You reach the frozen lake, your smile blooming once you recall the events from last year. You crouch down onto your knees again, your fingers drawing on the icy surface as you wait for him.

“I hope you’re not crying like last year,” Jeongguk’s playful voice rings out from behind you and you immediately turn around to face him.

“Why would I -” your smile drops from your face when you see Jeongguk’s red eyes and nose. Tears are falling down his face as the wind blows softly, making you shiver.

“Hey, are you okay?” you ask softly, walking over to him. He purses his lips, his dimples popping out as he tries to stop the tears from falling.

“I’m sorry.” The cursed words you’ve despised the most leave his lips.

“Why? Why are you sorry?” you plead, reaching forward to grasp his hands in yours.

“I can’t be with you.” Jeongguk whispers, his breath shaky as he grips onto your hands tighter.

“Why not? Why are you doing this to me now? After telling me you love me?” You’re crying now, and Jeongguk’s sobs get quieter as he slowly calms himself.

“You’re going to have to be happy without me now, okay? I’ve spent an entire year with you now, I need to go.” He explains, letting go of your hands to cup your face.

You shake your head furiously, your hands coming up to hold his wrists. The wind was blowing harshly around you, making you both shiver but it can’t possibly be colder than the ice crawling into your heart right now. 

“Don’t leave me.” You cry out, making both of your hearts break. 

Jeongguk’s thumbs wipe your tears away, before he leans in to kiss your forehead again. “I can’t stay here with you, Y/N. It would be selfish of me to stay.”

“Why? Where are you going?” You ask desperately, your eyes searching for some sort of sign that he’s just lying. But over the past year that you’ve come to know him, you’ve learned how to read him better than anyone else. You know him like the back of your hand. He never hides his emotions when he’s with you. And he’s never lied to you, not even once. 

“Somewhere far away and I’m not coming back,” he answers truthfully and you know it in the way he doesn’t stutter and in the way he holds your face gently. You close your eyes, letting more tears fall down your flushed cheeks as you feel the same biting cold from just over a year ago. Only this time, it hurts more in your heart than it does on your cheeks.

“Even when I’m gone, I’ll always be here,” he whispers, placing your hand above your heart as you feel your steady heartbeat. “I’m never going to truly leave you behind, Y/N. But I need you to be happy even without me. Can you promise me that?” he crouches down to your height, tucking a finger under your chin, prompting you to look at him.

“It’s going to be hard, but can you do it? For me?” He adds, caressing your hair gently as you give him a slow, hesitant nod that still manages to shatter your heart into a million pieces.

“That’s my angel.” He coos with a soft smile, pulling you in for a tight hug. You cry into his chest, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist as he kisses the crown of your head repeatedly. 

“Will I see you again?” you ask, pulling away as you stare up at his doe-like eyes that made you fall for him in the first place. He smiles, and leans forward to kiss you on the lips for the very first time, and the last. You kiss him back, pouring all of your love into the only kiss you ever get to share with Jeon Jeongguk.

“One day, angel. When it’s time for you to see me again.” He pulls you into a hug again, wrapping you tight in his warm embrace. For the first time that night, you don’t feel the cold. All you can feel is Jeongguk’s warmth spreading all throughout your entire body. You close your eyes, relishing in the feeling of being wrapped in his arms.

“I love you, always remember that.” Jeongguk whispers. 

And when you open your eyes, he’s gone.

You take ragged breaths, wiping away the tears hastily as the coldness starts creeping into your heart again. You turn around, hoping to find a glimpse of his retreating form or even just his shadow but you find nothing. Not even a trace of his footsteps on the snow, or his scent lingering in the air.

It was as if Jeon Jeongguk was merely a figment of your imagination.

And you cry. You cry, and you cry your eyes out until you can’t breathe, until your throat hurts from screaming, until your mouth feels dry. You drop onto your knees, the snow seeping into your jeans, soaking your skin with the icy coldness. But it still can’t compare to the ice that has now fully coated your breaking heart.

iii.

“Y/N? Y/N, can you hear me?” A masculine voice calls out in the darkness, and you squint your eyes, opening them slowly. A bright, white light greets you, and when your eyes finally adjust to the brightness, you’re staring into the eyes of a doctor.

“Hello, Y/N. I’m Doctor Kim. How are you feeling?” He asks gently, giving you a gentle reassuring smile. Doctor Kim is young, seemingly only a few years older than you, with black hair pushed back against his forehead, and full, pink lips. He seems more like an older brother than a doctor with his warm smile.

“I’m okay, I guess…” you trail off, your hands flat against the bed as you try to push yourself up to a sitting position. Doctor Kim immediately goes over to your side, helping you sit up. “What happened?” you ask, as Doctor Kim sits down beside you.

“You got into a car accident, Y/N. You were in a coma for a year.” He tells you, as your brain tries to process everything in. “You remember your name, so you most likely didn’t lose your memory. Or is there anything you don’t remember?”

You try to think. You know your full name, and your birthday. You know your parents’ names. You know where you study, what you’re taking up, and even some of the professors you hate the most. You know your friends, and the name of your pet. 

You shake your head, and Doctor Kim smiles at you. “Great. Seeing as there’s nothing wrong with you, you’re free to go. Your parents are already filling out the forms so you’ll be out by tomorrow. If ever you suddenly realize that you’re missing a piece of your memory, don’t hesitate to contact us right away. Aside from that, you’ll also have weekly check-ups with me until I’m fully assured that you’re okay.”

You give him a nod and a small smile. “I understand. Thank you, Doctor.” He gives you a curt nod before slipping out of the room quietly. You let out a long tired sigh, despite just having woken up from a coma. You lean back on the bed, your mind racing with a million thoughts.

You didn’t tell him, but you were sure you were missing something. You didn’t know what, exactly, so you decided against telling him. What would you even tell him anyway? Your gut tells you something’s missing but you don’t know what it is? That wouldn’t make sense anyway.

“Y/N! You’re awake now!” A bright, cheery voice snaps you out of your thoughts, and your eyes land on a smiling, blonde haired boy.

“Chan,” the name falls off your lips with ease, your heart warming up at the sight of your best friend. He rushes over to your side, grabbing your hand to grasp it in his. The gentleness of his hand holding yours feels familiar and you feel yourself smiling. 

“I was so scared you lost your memory and forgot about me,” Chan sighs, his eyes looking downcast. You squeeze his hand gently. 

“How could I forget the only person who always drags me to work out at the gym with him against my own will?” you tease and he lets out a loud laugh.

“I won’t drag you along with me now. At least, not until you’ve fully recovered,” he winks and you give him a playful roll of your eyes as he smiles wistfully at you.

“What is it?” you ask, tilting your head as you study his expression.

He shakes his head, pursing his lips. “Nothing. I’m just glad you remember everything.”

Chan spends a few more hours with you before he has to leave, saying he still needs to work on a few more of his songs. He gives you one last hug before leaving you alone to your thoughts once more.

Everything feels weird. Everything about Chan still feels the same. He’s still your best friend, and there’s still that familiar warmth of his hand holding yours. His laugh still sounds the same. Nothing’s different, nothing feels unfamiliar.

But why does it feel like you can feel a warm hand holding yours long after Chan’s hand lets go of it? Why does it feel like you can hear someone else’s laughter ringing in the silence long after Chan’s laughter has died down?

The next day you find yourself back at home, missing the familiar, homey scent of your surroundings. This was definitely better than the bleach and betadine trademark scent of the hospital. Your parents leave you to collect your thoughts, giving you some time and space to yourself first. 

You climb up the stairs to your room, feeling drained from the car ride back home. You had a long day, and it was past five in the afternoon. The sky was dark already, since you were still early into January and still a few months away from blooming flowers and cherry blossoms falling. You climb under your covers, smiling at how familiar it all feels.

Still, something’s crawling at the back of your mind when you turn on your side. Your hand reaches out, feeling the sheets, hoping to find some sort of answer to the nagging question you’ve had since yesterday. 

What were you missing?

Sleep eventually consumes you and your eyes shut close, momentarily putting a halt on the nonstop thinking.

You missed dinner and it’s already 12:15 am when a strong breeze blows in through your room, pushing your windows open. The strong gust of wind hits your bare skin, and the coolness wakes you up with a shiver. Your eyes glance at the clock on your bedside and as the red numbers glare at you, your eyes widen.

You remember his doe-like eyes and his giggles full of mirth. You remember the little scar on his left cheek and his plush lips. You remember his soulful voice when he sang for you and how he holds you in his arms when you dance around in your room into the late night. You remember him taking his coat off to wrap you in it the first time you met. You remember him telling you you’ll get sick if you continued crying. You remember feeling his warmth surround you during your first meeting. You remember how he holds your hands in his, how he hugs you with so much care. You remember how he picked up the broken pieces of your shattered heart that night, putting it back together little by little, piece by piece over the days, weeks, and months that you got to know him. 

You remember how he snuck into your room that night, reminding you that it’s been one year since you met at that frozen lake that holds so much sentimental value for you. You remember telling him you love him, and how he tells you he feels the exact same way. You remember falling asleep in his arms that night, you remember his soft lips against your forehead kissing you good night.

You remember how he leaves you that same day, telling you to still be happy even without him. You remember kissing him for the first and last time. You remember clutching onto his embrace, hearing him say he loves you one last time before opening your eyes and finding no trace of him anywhere.

You remember every moment, every memory, every fleeting moment you had with him. You remember how he made you feel — every time he made you laugh, every time he made you feel loved. 

You remember him. You remember Jeon Jeongguk. 

Tears start streaming down your face as you grab your phone, searching his name through your contacts. But you find nothing. Your fingers type out his number instead, memorizing it by heart, but your call goes straight to voicemail. You don’t stop there, you pull up almost every social media account you have, hoping to find any trace of him in your friends or your following list. You remember taking a thousand pictures with him, posting them all the time.

But there’s nothing about him. Your breathing gets ragged as your fingers fumble through your phone, calling your best friend. Knowing him, he’s still awake at this hour.

“Y/N? Hey, why are you still-”

“Chan? Chan, where’s Jeongguk? Did he tell you where he’s going? He never told me but maybe you know where he is?” You cut him off, tears still streaming down your face as you stutter out your inquiries.

“Jeongguk? Y/N, where are you? Are you outside? I’m going to pick you up, tell me where you are.” Chan says worriedly, and you can hear him cursing lowly under his breath and the sounds of keys jingling in the background.

“No, I’m at home. Chan, where is he? Why did he go? Why did he leave me without telling me where he’s going?” You’re sobbing into the phone now and Chan’s door shuts behind him as he sighs.

“Y/N, I need you to stay there until I get to you, okay? Wait for me.” You shake your head but remember he can’t see you.

“Chan, just tell me where he is. Please.” You’re begging now and you can feel the heartbreak rising up your throat, making you feel suffocated. You can’t breathe properly, but the next words you hear knock the breath out of your lungs.

“He’s dead, Y/N. He died saving you.”

iv.

“You were crossing the street when he saw you. He immediately ran over to push you out of the way. Your head hit the pavement, but he couldn’t get out of the way in time to save himself. He died the moment you both made it to the hospital.” Chan tells you slowly, his car coming to a stop by the park. Tears were flowing silently down your cheeks.

“But I met him, Chan. I spent an entire year with him.” you try to insist, turning over to face Chan whose eyes are glossy with tears now. 

“You were in a coma, Y/N. You didn’t know each other before the accident either. How could you have possibly met him?” Chan sighs.

“Chan, I loved him for an entire year! Was he just a figment of my imagination then?” You cry louder, your heart breaking. Chan looks up in thought with a sad sigh, before turning to face you.

“Dead people have regrets. Jeongguk must have had his own regrets and didn’t want to leave just yet. Your wandering soul met his ghost that same night. But after spending a year loving you, he has to go. Maybe all he wanted was to make you happy. And now that he’s accomplished that, his time is up.” Chan explains and you close your eyes tightly, wishing for all of this to just be a huge nightmare.

But it isn’t.

“Can I get some fresh air for a bit?” You ask and Chan leans over the console to give you a hug. He opens the door from behind you and you give him a grateful smile before heading out. Your feet lead you to the very same spot again. 

And just like the last time you were here, the lake is frozen over. Everything feels like déjà vu again. You crouch down on your knees with a sad, long sigh, your tears slowing down as they fall past your cheeks and down your chin.

You’re going to have to be happy without me now, okay?

I can’t stay here with you, Y/N.

Even when I’m gone, I’ll always be here,

I’m never going to truly leave you behind, Y/N. But I need you to be happy even without me. Can you promise me that?

It’s going to be hard, but can you do it? For me?

I love you, always remember that.

His last words ring in your ears, your hands coming up to clutch your chest as you feel your heartbeat. The wind blows softly, your hair fluttering in the wind as you wait for the usual shiver to come.

But you don’t feel it. Instead, you feel a blanket of warmth envelop you and you stop crying.

It’s barely there, but you can feel it. You can feel him. 

“Jeongguk.” You whisper softly, your breath raspy from crying so much.

“I told you you’re going to get sick if you keep crying in this weather, angel. Why do you love crying in the winter?” His gentle voice rings in your ears and you bite on your lower lip to prevent yourself from crying again. 

“I miss you.” you answer simply, and a gentle breeze blows again as you feel a soft kiss on your hair.

“I miss you too. But please be happy, okay? Don’t blame yourself. I never regret saving you that night, not even once.” He says gently as you nod rapidly. “I’ll see you soon, I’m going to wait for you. I love you, I always have, I always will.” 

You’re scared he’s going to leave again like last time without hearing you say the words back, but his warmth still surrounds you. “I love you too.”

And as the words leave your lips and form into clouds of smoke into the cold, dark night, the warmth surrounding you slowly disappears, leaving you with the familiar, stinging, cold winter air. Jeongguk always calls you angel but you realize that after all this time, he was your angel. From the moment he saved you that night, to piecing your broken heart back together, up until his last ‘I love you’, he’s been your angel.

And he always will be.