#genuinely just cannot wrap my head around someone saying wit they WHOLE CHEST what that tweet said

[sagemoderocklee]

truly so appalled by that screenshot about a*3 that i cannot sleep. i used to talk about this a lot more but the way ppl in fandom spaces absolutely don’t respect writing as a craft… like this is it!!! this right here is the culmination of that!!! this is killing actual literature and why we get bs like that r*ylo fic that got published and is supposedly a nyt best seller

genres exist for a reason!!! genres are what you’re looking for when you go to a book store!!! not tropes and tags!!! and guess what a poorly organized bookstore is partly because ppl are underpaid and overworked, and partly cause customers be lazy af and don’t put shit back cause “it’s not my job”

i love going to bookstores. i love looking through shelves of books. i love looking at covers and reading summaries. i don’t wanna pick up a published work that’s actually just fanfiction masquerading as something else with blurbs like “enemies to lovers!” on it cause it doesn’t tell me anything!!! the reason those work for fanfic is because fanfiction exists within an already established story!!! we already know what the story is and who the characters are!!! so you can tag it with “there’s only one bed” and have that be enough because the actual story already exists separately!!!!!!

i love to write and read fanfiction, but it has done something to yall, this whole entire fandom culture becoming mainstream has ruined ppls respect for storytelling. like it is truly and sincerely wild (and awful and disheartening) to me the utter lack of respect for writers and the craft of writing ppl who claim to love reading/writing are espousing rn. if all you ever wanna do is read/write fanfiction no one is stopping you, but published books need to behave like literature. and if you truly believe and want others to believe that fanfiction IS transformative then you have got to stop dismissing and disrespecting literature

[atsukashii]

Hi is it ok if I request y/n x kuroo & she/her & ☀️ & pink please?

smooth like butter, like a criminal undercover gon' pop like trouble breaking into your heart like that

✘ hey google: how do you tell if a guy is flirting with you?

✘ GENRE: fluff

✘ WARNINGS: aged up characters, bookshop au

✘ WORD COUNT: 1.9k

“I’d like to take you to the movies, but they don’t let you bring in your own snacks.”

Closing your work locker, you raise an eyebrow at the familiar six foot, raven haired guy, who smirks down at you as if he just won first prize. In cringe worthy pick up lines? Yeah he can take that medal.

“Are you calling me a snack?” You ask, adjusting the strap of your bag.

“Will you go out with me if I say yes?” Kuroo asks again, wagging his eyebrows at you teasingly, and you immediately know he’s messing with you.

“Not a chance.” Offering him a scathing glare, you spin on your heels and slip out the front door of the shop. When you’d first gotten the job at the small bookshop near your house, you'd have been ecstatic. Although you’d been less ecstatic about your new colleague who you’d never met before in your life, but had been slipping you cheesy and corny pick up lines every day for months.

You didn’t even know that there were that many ways to flirt with someone, but alas, Kuroo proved you wrong every shift. At first, you’d been a flustered bumbling mess trying to come up with a response, but as you caught on to how his hazel eyes glinted with untamed mischief, you’d decided that Kuroo wasn’t your favourite person.

That wasn’t to say that you by any means hated the guy, there was no way you could when he was literally one of the nicest people you’d ever come across in your life. He held doors open for you, and would volunteer to carry the new boxes of stock out back because they were heavy - although you had an inkling that was partly to show off. In the end, Kuroo is sweet, kind, and hilarious. But he thinks that hitting on you every day, and asking you out as a joke is also hilarious.

And it’s hilariously pissing you off.

Because somewhere down along the way, between the angel references and calling you a ‘cute-cumber’ you’d found yourself smiling at the lines. You found yourself anticipating getting to work shifts with him, just to see him and for the chance to witness the familiar rogue smile and the pure giddiness that emits from his very being.

But to him, it was a joke. And that left more than a bad taste in your mouth.

Adjusting your bag once more, you try to slide the store door closed behind you to keep the aircon inside - a stark contrast to the summer heat bearing down on you. Before it can close completely, a hand rolls the glass door to a stop and you find yourself once again looking up into hazel eyes.

“Not finished?” You snipe back, having reached your quota of fake flirting for the day. Kuroo doesn’t flinch at your tone, or maybe he just chooses not to notice judging by the smile that graces his face. Maybe, just maybe you could eventually get over him. It’s not going to go anywhere, if it was going to, he wouldn’t have waited literal months to make a move. So maybe, you can let him go.

“Oh I have plenty more for you princess, but I just thought you might want this first.” In his hand is a copy of the book you’d been reading behind the counter of your shifts. Blinking twice, you realise it’s got similar dog eared pages and a crinkled spine from continuous use - that's your book. Instinctively you peer into your bag on your shoulder, and alas, it's empty. With an empty mind, you take the item from Kuroo’s outstretched hand, and offer him a quick thanks as you try to swallow the emotion in your throat.

“You’re most welcome. Walk home safe, I'll see you tomorrow princess.” Kuroo responds with a rogue wink that has you flushing from head to toe. His knowing grin proves that was the response he was looking for, so you quickly shove the book in your back and practically run from your work - swearing that you can feel his gaze on you the whole way home.

Yeah, there’s no chance you’re going to get over him.

This is cemented on your next night shift. You stand behind the counter, your eyes glancing up from the book you’re reading to the group of teenage girls giggling amongst the young adult isle. Really, it should be an actual law for people to be as quiet in bookstores as they are in libraries.

The door opens once more, and you begin to groan internally at the thought of even more rowdy teenagers coming in, but instead Kuroo slinks through the door in all his six foot two glory. Dressed in his work shirt, some black jeans and his usual sneakers, he looks good and the bastard knows it from the raised eyebrows he shoots you when he catches you looking. You don’t reply, but instead turn back to your book, ignoring him and the gaggling teenagers who suddenly shut up as he walks past them to go to the back room. You can’t blame them as their eyes stay glued to his every movement. Kuroo walks like he was meant to carry the world on his shoulders, but instead spins it like a basketball on one finger. As if the most difficult things for him are effortless. Like a god amongst men. Okay, let's not go that far. If he ever heard that, his ego would asphyxiate everyone from here to the south pole.

“Do you like my shirt?” Kuroo’s question has you turning around before you can stop yourself, but you’re all levels of confused as he holds the hem of his shirt in pinched fingers away from his body. His shirt? It’s his work shirt…

“Uh it’s your work shirt…” You manage to mumble out, brows still furrowed, completely baffled.

“Yeah but its made of a different material.” He points out, moving closer to you, only looking up from his shirt and to you when he’s standing only a few feet away. “Boyfriend material.” His grin is actually blinding, so you’re not sure if you’re squinting from that, or from the way you scrunch up your nose in distaste at his line.

“I hate you.” You grumble, turning away and looking down at your book once more, letting your hair fall over your cheeks to hide the flush splashed brightly across them.

“Hate me? Why must you hurt me so princess?” Kuroo jokes, and you find yourself getting more and more disappointed as he grows quiet and begins to start on his own work for the shift. It’s not until you both notice the gaggling girls practically drooling on the floor at him that you decide you need to take your break.

Closing your book loud enough to startle the group of girls and the guy flicking aimlessly through a volleyball magazine at your side. “I’m going for my ten.” You offer in explanation as you try to move out back. You don’t get to even make it past the counter before there's a warm hand wrapping around your own. Kuroo’s hand completely engulfs yours in the best ways and you can’t help but gape at it as it pulls your walk to a stop.

“Are you alright?” He asks, drawing your eyes reluctantly from your entwined hands to his face, and once you spot genuine concern there, you hesitate with your response. How do you say that no, you’re not okay because would you be if the person that you liked jokingly asked you out on a daily basis for months on repeat? But never meant it?

“Yeah, I'm fine.” Kuroo doesn’t let go just yet, but instead scratches the back of his neck with his other hand nervously.

“You know, if I'm honestly bothering you, please tell me. I don’t ever want to make you uncomfortable y/n,” He offers, shame and hurt flashing brightly in his eyes - and it shocks you stupid for a few seconds. It takes you an added moment that he’s talking about his teasing. Wait, he thinks he’s bothering me? Is he?

“Kuroo, if it was bothering me I would have told you alright?” You say softly, your gaze drifting back to your hand. “I mean sure sometimes it can be a bit much but that's mainly because I'm an idiot.” Not expecting those words, Kuroo’s nerves bleed into a confused frown that has you wanting to reach up and thumb away the line between his pinched brows.

“An idiot? Princess, if what I'm saying is bothering you-”

“It’s not what you’re saying that’s bothering me, it’s the joking.” The second the words leave your mouth, you wish you could reach out, grab them, and shove them back down your throat, because the way Kuroo drops your hand as if it burnt him hurts more than you thought it would.

“Joking?” His tone is utterly perplexed, and this time, you’re the one looking back at him with confusion. A loud laugh barks from his chest and you immediately feel embarrassed for absolutely nothing. Kuroo is laughing so hard and obnoxiously that tears actually crest the corner of his eyes, and at this rate you’re ready to just walk out the door if it means you don’t have to deal with this embarrassment for another second.

“You mean to tell me, that all this time you thought I was joking?” Kuroo gets out between laughs, and you feel your stomach drop at his words. What does he mean did you think he was joking? Was he not?

Your silence is answer enough because he runs a hand through his thick dark hair and leans back on the counter behind him.

“Jesus Christ Y/n!”

“You would laugh at me after you said them!” You defend, pointing an accusing finger in his way. How could you not think he was joking when he’d laugh at you, his whole being the very embodiment of mischief when he would say his lines.

“Because your face would go red and you’d tell me I was an idiot under your breath, because it was cute!” Kuroo rebuts right back, trying once more not to laugh, and you can’t help but groan. You cannot believe that this entire time, he was actually trying to ask you out on a date. Well, you can’t fault his perseverance and tenacity.

“Kuroo,” you grumble, bridging your fingers and pressing them to your forehead in thought, just trying to calm your raging heart at the fact that this is happening.

“Y/n,” he grins right back, and you can feel him closing in on your position before you can even see him. But once you open your eyes again, letting your hands fall from your face, Kuroo’s stunning features are right up close and more beautiful than you’d thought.

“Does this mean that you’ll go out with me when I ask this time?” You really do try for your pride's sake to not flush at his words, but heat still crawls up your neck and Kuroo’s growing smile tells you that your mental attempt to stop it isn’t working.

“Yes, I will.” You say, letting the smile tug at the corners of your mouth.

“Good, I'll remember that for my new line tomorrow.”

✘ A/N: more fluffy kurro for ya day, y'all i am l i v i n g for this man rn

©️ 2021 all rights reserved to atsukashii, do not change, edit, translate, or repost any works on any platform.

[rainydayhogwartsimagines]

Hey lady, if you’re not busy could you do a George imagine? Along the lines of something with the 7 Potters, the reader and George fight about her going along with everyone and have a slight falling out. Then things become okay when George ends up with his ear blown off afterwards at the Burrow. Make sense? Thanks❤️

You frowned. "What the fuck do you mean I'm not going?" You asked George. "I mean, I talked it out with everyone else, you're not going, simple." George said walking. "Since when has literally everyone else had control over my actions!?" You asked. "Since this became a literal life and death situation and your dad didn't want you to die, and quite frankly I'm not a fan of that idea either." George said to you. "To hell what my dad thinks, Harry needs my help and I'm helping him!" You said. "And you will. Here." George said. "George!" You huffed, following him downstairs. "You can't stop me from doing this George!" You said angrily.

Remus looked up, hearing the argument. "No, you're right. But a whole group can." George said. "I can do this George, God why can't I just go--" "Because I refuse to put you in direct danger like that Y/n!" George snapped. "So you can go out into danger and I'm supposed to just sit here and pretend like that's fine while you and my dad charge off into battle like a couple of naïve jackasses who thinks that's safer!?" You asked. "Remus for the love of God talk to her." George sighed.

"Darling we are just trying to look out for you." Remus said. "You all seem to forget that I have a score to settle with these monsters too!" You snapped. "I know that Y/n, but your anger tends to blind you and we cannot risk you going out there and dying." Remus said. "But my boyfriend and his brother aren't. Hmm. Gee I'm beginning to think the jury is biased!" You snapped. "Yes. We are. We're all people who love you too much to see you hurt--" "I am more than willing to die for this-- God why can't you just--" "I already lost your mother I am not losing you too!" Remus said sharply. You shook your head and kicked the side of the fireplace. "I lost someone too! I witnessed people die too! I saw that-- I lived through that-- I LOST SIRIUS TOO!" You screamed.

The two men were silent as you shook. "You all get to play this part of coming back from a war like it only affects you. But you forget that I have seen this too. I was sitting in those stands watching Harry cling to Cedric, I was there when Umbridge took over, I was there when Arthur almost died and I was there when Sirius died. I can fucking handle myself and I've proven that time and time again, why can't any of you see that?" You asked. George sighed and shook his head "We know you can handle yourself Y/n. We just don't have a guarantee of survival." Remus said. "Neither do you and I can't lose either of you!" You said. "We can't lose you either!" George said back.

You shook your head. "Then don't go." You said, your voice breaking as you did. George closed his eyes, unable to look at that broken look you were giving him. "I have to do this." George said. You shook your head and George reached for you but you slapped his hand away, saying nothing as you pushed past him and went upstairs. George looked at Remus who was running a hand over his face. "We're doing the right thing. Right?" George asked. "We are... I just hope she sees that." Remus sighed.

You didn't come back downstairs for a while. Not even when George knocked on the door and told you that they'd be back soon. Well right now you were regretting not saying goodbye. Anxiety was coursing through you. You were absolutely terrified that something was going to happen. A part of you wished that you went with the group but George and Remus were dead set on leaving you out of the danger. Bill, Fred, George Fleur, Hermione and Ron all took a Polyjuice potion to throw death eaters off. You were forced to wait at the Burrow with Molly and Ginny.

You wouldn't stop moving. You were bouncing your leg or getting up and pacing. "I should have tried to stop them." you sighed. "Them?" Ginny asked. "George goes wherever Fred does, and Dad is out there-- I should have stopped them!" You sighed. "We're worried too dear." Molly said softly. You bit your nails and heard something outside.

You, Molly and Ginny ran out to see Harry and Hagrid. "Where are the others?" Molly asked. "They're not back yet?" Harry asked. "No." You muttered. Ginny pulled you aside. "I'm sure it's okay. Think about it Y/n, they would have to space out the times to come back to really throw them off.." Ginny assured. You nodded and noticed a blue flash of light. Molly had already gone back inside, unaware of the situation.

Remus ran out with George's arm wrapped around him, blood spewing from him. "George!" You gasped, helping Remus with him. You guided him to the couch and Molly gasped, George holding your hand. "Don't let me go." He muttered, you kneeled, Molly on your other side. Remus slammed Harry against the fireplace. "What creature sat in the corner the first time Harry Potter had visited my office in Hogwarts!?" Remus asked, wand aimed at Harry. "Have you gone MAD!?" Harry asked. "WHAT CREATURE!?" Remus repeated. "Grindylow!" Harry answered. Remus retracted and breathed. "We've been betrayed, Voldemort knew you were being moved tonight. I had to make sure you weren't an imposter." Remus explained as Molly tended to George. You heard noises outside and you drew shaking breaths, trying to keep calm in front of George.

Harry, Remus and Ginny ran outside to see what the noise was as you gripped George's hand. "I should've been with you." You breathed. "no... no you could've died tonight Y/n, I couldn't let that happen." George muttered. You were having a harder time keeping it together. "I shouldn't have yelled at you earlier." you whimpered. "It's okay Y/n..." George assured.

Fred ran over, kneeling next to you and wrapping an arm around you for comfort. "How you feelin' Georgie?" Fred asked. "Saint like." George said groggily. "Come again?" Fred asked. "Saint like. I'm Holy. I'm holey Fred. Get it?" George joked. You let out a laugh through the tears and Fred pulled you closer once he realized you were crying. "A whole wide world of ear related humor and you go for 'I'm holey'? It's pathetic." Fred snorted. "Still better looking than you." George said, still holding your hand. You drew shaking breaths and kissed his hand as Bill emerged.

"Mad eye's dead." Bill muttered. You said nothing, pulling away from the boys and walking upstairs. Remus followed you, knocking on the door of Ginny's room. He peaked his head inside and saw you crying on the bed you usually slept in. He sat next to you and pulled you to his chest, you sobbing and shaking in his arms. "I-I'm sorry dad." You whimpered. "It's alright pup, I'm okay. And considering what trooper George was during the battle, I'm sure he will be too." Remus assured. You clenched the sides of Remus' jacket and he rubbed your back. "It could've been you." You whimpered. "What?" Remus asked. "Alister could've b-been you or George dad." you muttered. Remus pulled you closer. "I almost lost b-both of you." You whimpered. Remus held you tightly and let out a breath. "I know Pup... I know." he soothed.

Molly knocked on the doorframe, seeing you hugging Remus. "Oh darling... Are you alright?" She asked. "This war sucks." you whined making both of the parents laugh. Molly kissed your forehead, smiling. "I'm making dinner tonight.. A little treat for survival." She said. You let out a sad laugh and she smiled. "Thank you Molly." Remus said before she went back downstairs. "Will you be alright?" Remus asked. You nodded and he got up, you wiping your eyes. You looked over to see Fred standing in the doorway.

"Georgie wanted to see you." Fred said. "okay." you muttered getting up.   You walked back downstairs and George looked over, slightly more aware of his surroundings. "Hey darling-- ow." He winced as he spoke. "Careful George." you said, kneeling next to him. He kissed your hand amd you sighed looking at him. Remus set a bowl of water, a towel and bandages down. "We need to clean his wounds... Do you want to do it?" Remus asked. "You're better at it." You said to him.

"Hold him. He's about to hate me." Remus said. "Any idea who did this to you?" You asked. "no.." George said. You sighed and kissed his hand as Remus began the process. George winces and you felt him tightened his grip around your hand. "Remus about that thing we talked about-- Ow!" George said making Remus raise a brow. "I haven't changed my answer if that's what you're asking." Remus said. "Good-- Holy fuck that hurts." George winced. "Love, you're gripping my hand a little too tight." You winced. He slowly released the tight grip but quickly tightened it again after Remus touched the wound again. "Nngg-- Christ how do you deal with this!?" He asked, referring to the scars that you had from Remus' changes.

He rarely allowed you near him during full moons but sometimes he genuinely had no one else and needed you there. It certainly helped that you were an animagus. The irony of you being a wolf when your dad was a werewolf was not lost on you. You had this ongoing theory that Sirius was actually your uncle and you being a wolf was a way to distinguish the family. Actually, Sirius went along with this too, referring to you, him and Remus (and later on, Tonks) as a pack.

"I have my ways." You said as George gripped your hand. "Tell me something good-- PLEASE!" George winced. "I'm glad you made it back to me." You said softly. He chuckled before wincing. "I'm almost done" Remus assured. "Hell on Earth wouldn't have stopped me from seeing you again Y/n." George said as remus finally got the blood to stop. "Lean up." Remus said. George slowly leaned up, Remus carefully wrapping his head. George winced slightly at the fabric's contact with his ear and George pulled you into his arms now that he was sitting up.

"I'm sorry I worried you darling." George said. You said nothing, burying your face in the crook of his neck. "I love you." He said. "I love you too." You mumbled making him lean so your face was off of his neck and staring at him. His kissed your forehead and you curled into his lap, George holding you close.

Remus looked at his daughter and George, Molly and Arthur standing next to him. "Should we separate them?" Tonks asked. Remus chuckled and shook his head.

"No... No let's leave them alone for a while"

Taglist:@amhyeah @newtaholic-staygold @bbeauttyybbx @fleurho

[katie-writes24]

Cursed Blessings

Pairing: Thomas Jefferson x reader

Warnings: MAJOR MENTIONS/BRIEF SCENE OF RAPE! Language, angst, alcohol, suggestive material, and this is just really sad. 

Chpt. 2

Okay, PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS! I don’t think the scene is graphic, however it’s there. If you feel that I should put a stronger warning, please don’t be afraid to dm me. 

So, my first ficlet, where do I begin? This story was supposed to be a cute little scene with Thomas and an ex lover but omg, I went so off track but I hope yall like it. I did lots of scheming with this fic and @tinywhim I cannot thank you enough for all the help! Brainstorming with you gives me so much more motivation to actually finish writing stories ngl. But yeah, please be wary. Next part will be much lighter I promise. Let me know if you want to be tagged, I’m tagging my original tjeff taglist. Feedback is always appreciated! And....hope you guys continue this story with me! Enjoy!

Y/N didn’t believe in soulmates, even if she was surrounded by so many people who seemed to be destined to each other. Her parents were married for 27 years, never once betrayed each other, they even died together. Even though her mother would call them soulmates, she didn’t believe it, she just thought they were two people who found an undeniable love. 

It was this phrase that was tossed around so much that it was starting to seem like a far off fantasy. 

That changed when she met Thomas. 

He was brilliant, charming, he wasn’t afraid to speak his mind. He had little quirks about him that she knew was just for her to see. Y/N liked when he would tell a story and he would get this fond look in his eye, and start scrunching up his nose the faster he talked. To her it was adorable, to him it was stupid. 

Thomas made her feel safe, she’s never felt like that before. 

They met at an art exhibit, and the two spent the whole night talking about different pieces and ended up going to a small diner, looking ridiculously overdressed. She could see her mother gush about how romantic it was, how she could picture the wedding now. 

Y/N still didn’t believe in soulmates, but she did start to imagine a future with the man. 

Two years in, they were finally thinking about moving in together. Thomas found a nice place in Charlottesville, not too far from his family’s estate. It felt like a perfect dream. They were going to close on it at the end of summer. 

It was all perfect timing. The Jefferson's always threw a big charity event in July, the house would be filled with hundreds of snobby, rich attendees. Trying to fill in a conversation with any of them bored her to death, but Y/N couldn’t complain because while they had no genuine personality, they did have money. The event usually does really well each year, and this year was no different. 

Y/N spent that whole weekend at the Jefferson's estate, helping set up decorations and enjoying her time with him and his father. Ever since Thomas’s mother passed, Peter hasn’t been as social with outsiders. 

And even though she had heard some stories from the past that gave her dreaded chills, the man seemed to mean well. Thomas had told her that it was all in the past, and that he still cares for his father, so she shouldn’t hold it against him if Thomas wasn’t. 

The night after the fundraiser she learned more about Peter Jefferson. He liked to golf, he enjoyed telling awful jokes, and he liked to drink. 

He drank a lot that night. 

Y/N was in the study, reading the final chapter of her book on the couch. Thomas had gone out with James for the night, seeing that he would be leaving to go up to New York till the end of summer. It was peaceful; she was wrapped in a large blanket, feet on the table with a mug of coffee and a good book. 

The characters were clashing, it was something she hadn’t expected. She leaned forward and focused more on the words, not noticing the door open and shut quietly behind her. She only lifted her head when she felt cold fingertips run up her backside. 

Y/N turned around quickly, noticing Peter barely standing on his own. 

“Peter, are you alright? You don’t look too good.” His eyes were foggy, there was a stain across his shirt and he hiccupped to himself as he laughed. 

“Well, I think...you do, darling.”

“Do what?”

“You look..good, very-very good if I might add.” He staggered into the seat next to her and immediately put his hand on her thigh. 

“What are you doing?!” She pushed his hand off and he chuckled again. 

“You know, Thomas...my son he sure did pick out...a beautiful lady. And, heh, at least he did something right, he did something good in his life. But that boy, he still doesn't have the mindset yet...he doesn’t see that-” Peter drifted off as he looked like he was about to vomit all over himself. 

It was an opportunity, it was the perfect time to leave. 

“He’s so blinded by your wit that he doesn’t see that you’re taking as you please, and maybe not even to him alone, right huh?” He grabbed Y/N’s calf as he tucked himself into her neck. 

“He doesn’t see the way you dress, the way you look, how you’re just asking for it! Is he not giving you enough attention, darling?”

His hands felt slimy and unfamiliar, and they were certainly unwanted. 

But what was Y/N to do? She could’ve easily ran out the room. The man was drunk, she could’ve easily shoved him, hit him hard enough, and he would probably stumble and she could get out. She could call Thomas-

Thomas. 

Thomas kept her safe, Thomas promised her that she was his and nobody else’s. Thomas left the house, Thomas brought her into an abuser’s house. 

Thomas was going to be so upset. 

And she could avoid this, Y/N could put an end to this hand running up her shorts. 

But she was numb, she was lost. All she could see was Thomas, all she could think was Thomas. But that certainly wasn’t Thomas’s hands, not his soothing touch, not his caring praise. It was Peter’s, and it was disgusting. But if she ended this, what would he say to Thomas? 

By the time she could feel her feet, it was already over. 

Y/N sat up to her pants on the floor along with a spilled coffee and puke smears on the rug. Her bones were cold, but that blanket had a white stain that made her uncomfortable. She looked and found the door closed. 

As if he never even came in. 

Maybe it was seconds, maybe it was hours, but when she finally sat up her whole body weight caved in on her. 

She had to clean up the mess, she needed to get rid of the evidence. 

She had to clean herself, she felt like this wasn’t her body. She was violated, she was abused, she was used. 

Y/N took the longest shower of her life, whether it be from her crying or trying to disinfect the feeling of hands crossing her torso. 

She went to bed alone, and surprisingly, sleep caught her quick. When she woke up, she was still alone. No Thomas, no Peter. 

Her emotions ran over her again and she sobbed gently into her pillow. She was too afraid to leave the bed, too afraid to go downstairs and see what broke her, is breaking her. It was too much. 

When her tears finally ran dry, there was a knock on the door. Immediately, she pulled her knees up to her chest and felt her heart jump. She stopped breathing until she heard her boyfriend’s voice. 

As he walked in, he had bloodshot eyes, wearing the same clothes as the night before. 

“Sorry I didn’t come back home. I drank a little too much, crashed at James’s place.” 

I drank a little too much. 

“It’s okay,” Her voice cracked and she hoped he didn’t notice it. Y/N couldn’t bear with his overwhelming care right now, she wasn’t ready for questions. 

“Hey, so, turns out I do have to go in tomorrow, and early at that. So, what do you say getting a head start on the drive back?” Raising a brow, Thomas had a soft look on his face. He looked so different all of a sudden. 

“I would like that.” Y/N put on her best smile. 

But she couldn’t hold it forever, she would eventually give herself away, and of course after being together for a couple of years, Thomas would know a difference. The lack of hugs, the uncharacteristic quiet, working, what she claimed, “overtime.”

They were signs. 

The next few weeks, he made an effort to do better, try harder. Thomas booked reservations at the most expensive restaurants, he surprised her at work on Wednesday’s, he made sure to leave the office on time so he could cook dinner for Y/N, always asking how her day was. 

He said those three words at every chance he got because he needed her to know, he needed her to understand that whatever was happening, whoever she was seeing, they wouldn’t love her like him. 

It wasn’t enough. 

“Is there someone else?”  

Y/N turned to look at him, luggage in hand. She’s never seen him so broken, so lost. He had stopped crying, clinging to himself as if to hold him close to the ground. Those eyes, those deep brown eyes that she fell in love with...they were too similar. 

It was like she was back on that couch, seeing those drunken orbs that ruined her forever. 

Apparently, her silence was his answer. Thomas nodded his head sadly and walked back towards the bedroom, leaving Y/N stuck to the doorstep. 

~~~

“It could turn out to be a blessing.”

Her jaw was shut tight, hand over her mouth, restricting even the tiniest sob from letting loose. 

“No matter what happens, we’ll help you out….” 

This town wouldn’t let her live peacefully if she dared approach one of those buildings. 

“Have you at least called the father?”

Peter gave her a check and a note two days ago. 

“Why don’t you just come up here? We can figure this out together.”

Her phone dinged, and there was a ticket to New York staring at her. 

“Whatever you need, whatever you decide, we’ll support you, Y/N.”

She was gonna need it. 

Jefferson Taglist: @notebookgirl30 @dontblinkumightmiss @checkurwindow @einfachniemand @astralaffairs @daveeddiggsit @ramp-it-up @ohsoverykeri-blog @i-know-i-can

[perseusjackson-jasongrace]

the story of us

this was requested by @fantasylover16. I genuinely had so much fun with this thank you! I hope you enjoy. Also I said nb jack frost rights and I meant it.

masterlist; my links

This is a story about two people.

One died three hundred years ago and has been alive since then. They have white hair, whiter than the stars, than burning light, than heaven itself. They have blue eyes that remind you of cracked ice in melting winter. They have ivory skin, some say like porcelain, it's more like liquid opal.

The other is twenty two years old. He has black hair, like jet fuel, and midnight. He has green eyes that hold oceans lost to time, that hold memories. He has brown skin that reminds you of cool forest floors and water glistened rock.

This is a story about who they are.

"Percy!" His roommate shouts from the kitchen. "Get your butt down here and tell me if the blue skirt goes better with these glasses!"

He laughs as he pulls a sweater over his heads and grabs his phone, slipping it into his back pocket. He feels the press of his pen as he pats himself down to make sure he has everything and when he is satisfied he bolts down the passage and stops short of the kitchen where Hazel Levesque is parading in front of their grand mirror on the opposing wall. She is decked out in black platform ankle boots, white fishnets that draw out the colour of her skin, slightly dark than his, a bright blue skater skirt and a soft pastel blue crew-neck not unlike his own.

"You Hazel Levesque," He grins bright and unrestrained, "Are a vision."

"Yes," She mutters still swopping between two pairs of clear-framed glasses and scrunching her nose, "But is it enough to bring my crush to their knees?"

"If Reyna doesn't bow down to you I think we can assume she's in desperate need of glasses."

"Well then maybe I should take both pairs and offer her one." She muses, pulling at her afro distractedly.

He snorts, turning to the counter and grabbing a bowl and whatever cereal he can reach first.

"Well," Hazel turns to him, he can see the smile she's trying so hard to hide, "Shall we be off then?"

He blinks at her, blinks again, points an unsure finger at his chest.

"Oh you don't expect me to brave Reyna on my own do you? Besides we're matching today it'd be quite ridiculous if we went out separately."

"But—" He looks to his bowl, as barren as the desert, "But my cereal?"

"I'll buy you breakfast on the way!" She waves the concern off, grabbing his hand and pulling them both out the door.

Despite their height difference, she makes it look far less like he's letting her pull him and far more like she has the strength to straight up carry him across the country.

"Hazel," He giggles, "Slow down."

"I can't Percy," She shakes her head vigorously, practically running through the park next to their building and into the bustling streets beyond. "If I don't do this now I'll lose all my courage and spend eternity in self-damned misery." Her brown eyes, turning honeyed as they catch the sun through the round glasses framing her face, flash bright and bold.

He stops them, pulling her in for a hug, unable to stop the laughter shaking his body." You have never been a coward Hazel Levesque. No matter the day, time or outfit you have always been brave enough to stand up and do what's needed. And telling Reyna you have a crush on her is just another battle you absolutely can win." He pulls them apart, setting a steady green gaze on her excited one. "Now let's get some coffee, and a mint tea for you because you're hyper enough as it is, and then we'll go find the love of your life and I can finally show you the google-doc I have for your wedding."

She strangles his ribs in another hug and then takes a deep breath as she steps away. "What would I do without you Percy Jackson?"

"Let's never find out," He smiles, slinging an arm over her shoulder and directing them towards the Chaos House.

As per its namesake, walking into the café is like being lost in a crowd of sleep-deprived, adhd kids all connected to caffeine IVs. In short: it's chaos. Its their favourite place on earth.

Being hit with a wall of noise after the quiet of awakening nature feels like being sucker punched directly in your ear canal. Percy cannot help but grin as he takes in the racing patrons and the sound of coffee beans being ground and the smell of cinnamon and honey and endless activity.

They immediately spot a group of their friends and bolt for the booth they're all squished into.

"Reyna isn't here." Hazels voice is pitched with panic, "Oh gods what if she's sick today? What if she fell in a ditch on her jog this morning?" She stops right in the middle of the café, brown eyes wide. "What if she knew I was trying to do this and decided to stay home today to avoid seeing me?"

He grabs her arms already shaking his head. "My darling, I need you to take a deep breath. You are spiraling."

Wildness is still tracing her expression but he feels her shoulders rise and fall as she gulps air.

"Okay," He says gently, "Now we're gonna go to our table, have a good time with our friends and if and when Reyna shows up you're going to tell her how you feel and I'll meet you back at home so you can let me know when the wedding is."

She smacks his shoulder gently, nervous giggles escaping her. "Alright fine. I hate when you get reasonable. It's very disconcerting."

"Good thing it's rare," His lips twitch, and they finally start towards their friends.

A loud chorus of hellos and how are you’s ring around his head as they get nearer and he feels right at home amongst it all.

"What's up losers?" He flops down next to Jason, pressing a shoulder into the blondes side in a hug.

Annabeth sits next to the blonde, squished between him and Piper, a leg over Jason's thigh and her hand intertwined with Piper's. Frank is on the opposite side, a casual arm slung over Leo's shoulder. Hazel squeezes in besides Leo and sighs dramatically.

"What's wrong Levesque?" Piper frowns, reaching over to clasp the girl's hand.

"She's feeling put out because she had something very important to do today and her plans are being delayed because a certain someone isn't here."

And just as their friends start reassuring and ribbing her in equal parts Percy's phone rings. With a frown he pulls it from his pocket, as he gets up and waves to say he'll be back in a minute.

"Hello, this is Percy Jackson."

He's not paying attention to his surroundings as he listens to the person on the line so when his shoulder slams into somebody he almost topples to the ground. When he turns around to say sorry there is nobody there; his frown only deepens but then the voice on the phone is pulling his attention and he makes his way outside.

This is story about they meet.

The conversation is a whirl of information about his upcoming course and what his supervisor needs from him. By the time he ends the call and tucks the phone back in his pocket his whole body feels like it's taken on the sky all over again. He has the urge to check if another grey streak has graced his hair. Instead he leans against the wall, ignoring the way his clothes catch against its roughness. He can feel the cold seeping through the cracks in the brick and into the threads of his sweatshirt.

He looks down, pulling his arms over his chest in an attempt to keep the warmth in but as he takes his arms away from the wall he sees the frost outline of his fingers. A clear, already melting handprint marking the brick like a graffiti tag. He steps back, away from the wall, to find his whole body outlined. It reminds him eerily of the chalk markings they do at murder investigations. He's not entirely sure this isn't prophetic.

The frost, little beads of ice skittered in shape, is melting at a rapid rate but the colour catches Percy's eye. It's not the usual dulled, muddy ice that coats his windows in the morning and sits atop the grass each night. It is blue, bright and pure, and looks... happy?

He's definitely going insane. The lack of coffee is getting to his brain and he has officially going mad. He should go inside and get warm and sit with his friends and have 3 espresso shots in a row.

But the phone call is still rattling his nerves and he can't bare to face the café without all his wits about him. So he studies the melted frost outline, curiosity moving him forward to trace it with his fingers. He doesn't expect to feel cold like winter mornings and snowball fights and sleigh rides coursing through his bloodstream. It's shocks him right into a new state of being. It reminds him of a poem his mother used to say at the beginning of each winter. The poem was long enough that he was always asleep by the end of the last verse but he recalls the first part clearly now

Jack Frost was in the garden;

I saw him there at dawn;

He was dancing round the bushes

And prancing on the lawn.

He had a cloak of silver,

A hat all shimm'ring white,

A wand of glittering star-dust,

And shoes of sunbeam light.

The thought is so ridiculous Percy has to laugh. It bursts out of him unexpectedly but once he starts he cannot stop. It feels like the world has turned on its side but he's still walking upright. Everything is slightly dizzying but strangely amusing from this angle. He laughs harder, ribs aching, cheeks stiff, and eyes bright. He's sure people are staring at him like he's mad but he cannot stop. Until he stumbles over the pavement and is falling to the inevitable crunch of his facial bones.

It happens almost in slow motion. He sees the ground coming towards him, bubbling up like it's going to swallow him whole. He stared it down, refusing to close his eyes, as if challenging it to hurt him, to take him as he goes. But then hands, freezing cold even through his layers of clothing, wrap around his waist and he is being hauled up in a rush of wind and dizzying speed. He bumps into a hard chest and feels as if he's stepped into a freezer.

"Hey," A voice low and playful crackles through him, "You okay?"

He turns around slowly, and is not at all prepared for the site he is greeted with. There is so much all at once, startling and glowing and fracturing. His eyes catch an warm icy gaze, blizzard white hair, pale skin, cold-kissed lips, hands running with blue veins and silver rings.

"You okay?" The stranger repeats, looking at him with concern.

He honestly doesn't know if he has the ability to talk. His mouth opens, his throat bobs, but words are lost cargo.

"Can you hear me?" The stranger asks, accompanying the question with sign language.

Percy responds automatically, raising a fist and moving it back and forth; his head accompanies the action but still no words come out.

They smile at him, and start signing another question. He doesn't bother to stop them, tell them they aren't deaf, he can hear, he just can't talk. He's speechless.

Are you okay? They sign.

He nods, and the words stuck in his throat finally tumble out. "Yes, yes," It is croaky with overwhelming emotion, "Thank you for catching me. I’m sorry I uh—" He doesn't have any respectable excuse for being mute for the entire first half of their interaction. He is just completely struck by everything the stranger is.

"Ah so you can hear me," The stranger laughs. He decides the sound is what makes stars. "Well I'm glad you're okay. I'm Jack."

Percy snorts. This cannot be real. Ice, him thinking about Jack Frost, and suddenly his saviour's name is jack? What has the universe been doing with its time to plan this?

“I'm Percy," He stares at them curiously studying the snowflakes that seem to cling to their floppy white hair despite the snow season being weeks away, and the blue eyes that hurtle him to the Abraham lake in Canada. A holiday his family had taken a mere year ago and one of the most beautiful places he's ever seen.

His demigod senses are peeking out their window, as curious as he is. The action puts him on high alert. His instincts are usually only alerted when he's in danger or............. in love.

"What are you?" He cannot stop the question. His mouth has a self-controlled function and no way to override it.

Jack raises their brow, "What are you, Percy?" His name sounds like luxury rolling off the stranger's tongue.

But the question throws him off guard and before he has time to drool over them again he is pulling his pen out and twirling it between his fingers anxiously. "Are you here to kill me?"

That barks a laugh from Jack, who looks so entirely amused he can't help but wonder if he can frame the moment to keep with him forever; a brow quirked, a slight dimple on their right cheek as their smile grows, and bunched freckles as their nose scrunches slightly.

"Get a lot of assassination attempts do you?"

“You have no idea," He feels his eyes roll in annoyance, an automatic reaction after all these years.

"No Percy," Jack says softly. It brushes across his skin like cool paint and snowy pine leaves. "I am here because the moon told me to be."

"The moon?" He sputters, "What do you mean the moon?"

"I mean exactly that. I talk to the moon and it answers."

He can feel his legs grow weak. "The moon— the moon— the....... moon," He mutters, staring at Jack.

They are silent as he attempts to compartmentalize his thoughts. "You know what?" He finally speaks, "That's not the weirdest thing I've ever heard. The children of Demeter talk to grain so this isn't that far out of reach."

Jack just looks at him with a patient, gentle smile on their face.

"So what are you? A child of Selene?"

"I am not a demigod." They shake their head. "I was chosen by the moon three hundred years ago. I am the spirit of winter."

The silence stretches between them like taffy. He isn't sure he's heard this right.

"You're—" He cannot even bring himself to say it.

"Yes, I'm Jack Frost."

Percy's legs give our from under him. Jack is not quick enough to catch him but he lands on a pillow of snow right before he bruises his knees. "You're Jack Frost?"

"Yes. And you are Percy Jackson."

"How—how do you know?"

"I've been alive for a very long time. I know a lot of people."

He just hums, trying to wrap his head sound another layer of myth and fable that makes up the fabric of the world.

"Why are you here?" He finally gutters out. "I mean I know the moon told you to come but why?"

"I uh have a theory but I need to ask something of you in order to know if I'm right."

He frowns, staring up at the stranger. No not stranger. Can you even call someone who's been around for centuries a stranger? What are they a stranger to? They have seen and heard and learnt and loved more than he ever has or ever will. It's more like he is the stranger. "What do you need me to do?"

"I just need you to summon water for me."

A thousand questions sit like caught snowflakes on his tongue but he let's them melt instead of spilling them into the world. Instead he gets up and concentrates on all the water sources surrounding them.

A reservoir one hundred miles away, fire hydrants near bursting with unused pressure, a small pond in a small park about five miles south, and of course the ocean in front of them, no more than fifty miles within reach.

"How much do you need?"

"Give me fifty liters."

He closes his eyes and imagines the pond, the water rippling within it. He imagines holding it in his palm as he would a basketball ball. When he feels a cool sensation wash over his skin he opens his eyes once more and sees a swirling blob of water surrounding his hand, dancing to the beat of his pulse.

"Is this enough?"

"Plenty," They smile and then their hands are reaching out and as if the water knows they're calling to it, it bounces over in little bubbles. As it touches their fingers a ray of light bursts from the contact and it turns to ice. Jack sucks in a breath, watching in amazement as the water freezes and hits the ground in a flurry of snow.

"What?" Percy cannot hold in his curiosity any longer. "What is it?"

"The moon was right." They look at him, eyes sparkling with something more than awe or curiosity.

"About?" He prompts.

"We're soulmates."

This is a story about their destinies.

"We're what?" Percy whispers. He has never gotten loud when he was surprised or angry or sad. He has always been soft.

"I usually need my staff to solidify water but if I use elements touched by my soulmate I can do it without aid."

"This is ridiculous!" He sputters. There is absolutely no way this is real. Seriously? Soulmates? He would laugh if he wasn't so outraged.

"You don't believe in soulmates?"

"It doesn't matter what I believe in!" He growls, "This whole ordeal is completely insane."

"What would it take to convince you Percy Jackson?" Jack just smiles, it is shining with happiness like it hadn't before.

"I have no idea because I have never heard of or encountered a soulmate." He hisses.

"Do you know why you can see me?"

He shakes his head, thoughts swirling faster than the hurricanes his further looses.

"Because you believe in me."

"I thought you had control over who sees you and who doesn't?" He raises a brow.

"Only with children. I can choose to show myself whether they believe or not. I have the ability since enough of them do believe." They say. "But adults are different. If they don't believe I cannot make myself appear to them. I am simply a ghost of their childhood past."

"I don't understand." Percy cannot wrap his mind around this. "How do you know you can only make ice out of whatever water I touch?"

Jack looks around for a brief moment before catching sight of something behind them. In a split second they are there and then they're back.

"Watch," He pours the water from the bottom he'd nabbed over his hand. It falls to the floor as liquid as it had started out.

"That doesn't prove anything, how do I know you're not just making sure you don't turn it to ice?"

"I cannot touch anything without freezing it, especially water." They worry at their bottom lip with their teeth, thoughts flying across their face. "It's like your friend Leo." They nod their head towards the café where Percy can still see his friends snuggled into the booth. "He doesn't necessarily turn everything he touches to ashes but he will always leave a warm imprint no matter how or what he has touched."

"How do you know that?" He gapes.

"Immortality gives you a lot of time to know the world." They shrug. "Now do you believe me?"

"I don't know." He answers truthfully. "I mean if we are soulmates..." He tries to form the question into some semblance of sense and order. "Does that mean I'm tied to you? That we have to like I don't know get married and spend eternity together?"

"No," Jack says gently, "No you can deny this bond if that is how you feel. It does not mean anything except that the universe put our souls in the same constellation. We are free to pick and choose who we love."

“And how will it work if we do decide to get together?” He frowns, “I will age but you will always stay the same.”

They look at him, head tilted, ice eyes bright. “But you know that’s not true.”

Everything in him barrels forward like a tidal wave. It cannot be. No-one knows. Not even his mother. “What isn’t true?” He will play this carefully, like the strings of a harp. He will not let his life crash through the ground.

“Why are you hiding it?”

“I’m not hiding anything.” He is adamant in his stance. He will not bow.

“You are denying the life you chose.” Jack considers him. “Why?”

“I’m not denying anything.” He huffs, “I’m just taking it slow.”

A snort bursts of them, arrogant and amused. “You are taking becoming a God slow?”

“I want to live with my friends before they figure it out!” He cries, all the fear and terror and worry burning through him.

Jack moves closer, presses a cold hand to his shoulder. “It is okay to be scared and angry and worried but do not forget that you are worthy of the title and you should wear it like a crown, not a burden.”

“There is always some burden in this much power.” He is bitter. He is right.

“Come,” Jack pulls them together, “Go meet your friends.” The hug is so cold but comforts him to the bone. “And when you are ready to make a decision, just whisper my name and i will answer, no matter where i am, or how far apart we are.”

He studies the person before him, beautiful and strange in an inviting sort of way, like no matter how much he learns about them he'll always want to know more. "Well you are very pretty."

They laugh, and the sound lights up the ocean inside him. "Thank you."

“Live Percy Jackson.” Jack Frost whispers.

And then Percy is standing outside a café, an icy wind dancing between his fingertips, and the impression of a freezing hug still clinging to his clothes. He realizes he feels happy. He feels safe.

This is a story about their love.

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

[image id: a poem by John P Smeeton titled "Jack Frost in the Garden" the poem reads:

Jack Frost was in the garden;// I saw him there at dawn;// He was dancing round the bushes// And prancing on the lawn.// He had a cloak of silver,// A hat all shimm'ring white,// A wand of glittering star-dust,// And shoes of sunbeam light.

Jack Frost was in the garden,// When I went out to play// He nipped my toes and fingers// And quickly ran away.// I chased him round the wood-shed,// But, oh! I'm sad to say// That though I chased him everywhere// He simply wouldn't stay.

Jack Frost was in the garden:// But now I'd like to know// Where I can find him hiding;// I've hunted high and low —// I've lost his cloak of silver,// His hat all shimm'ring white,// His wand of glittering star-dust,// His shoes of sunbeam light"

the background is a light blue and white marble. end id]

Tags: @fantasylover16 @queen-of-demons-and-hell @nishlicious-01​ @leyontheway @caffeinated-croissant

[zhydoesart]

Supernova (1/2)

Summary: Virgil knew that falling in love with a spy would come back to bite him in the ass. (It did. Hard.)

Warnings: (temporary) character death

Ships: Prinxiety

AO3

A/N: once again I am on mobile and cannot insert a "read more," sorry about that, but I was too excited to wait until I got home from school to post this

-----

Virgil knew that falling in love with a spy would come back to bite him in the ass. (It did. Hard.)

Roman frequently disappeared to God-knows-where on a mission. Did Virgil say frequently? He meant every other day. Usually, however, Roman returned in a day or two. This time he'd been gone a week, verging on a week and a half. This time, someone—presumably another secret agent—had called Virgil to tell him that Roman's last mission had gone south, and he was officially declared MIA and presumed dead. The person who'd called Virgil, even underneath all of the voice modifications, sounded sympathetic, which only tightened the knot in his stomach.

"He put your number as his emergency contact," the caller told Virgil, who swallowed with some difficulty. "Sorry again. I hate being the bearer of bad news, but what can I do?" They hung up.

Virgil's eyes were swollen when the doorbell finally rang. He rubbed at his eyes, standing unsteadily before he staggered over to the door.

Virgil was met with his friend's bright blue eyes and wild brown curls, and he didn't waste a second before throwing his arms around his friend's shoulders.

"Patton." Virgil sounded choked, like he was struggling not to cry, and when he pulled away, the first thing Patton noticed was how red his eyes looked.

"Hey, Virge," Patton said with a half-grimace. "I heard about Ro— about what happened. Are you doing okay? Have you been crying?"

Virgil laughed, but it was shaky. "Oh, yeah, I'm doing just peachy. I'm totally not scared out of my mind for him."

"Let's go inside," suggested Patton gently, placing a hand on Virgil's back to steer him inside.

They ended up on the couch, Virgil's back pressed up against Patton's chest, Patton's arms wrapped around Virgil's waist.

"How are you doing?" mumbled Virgil. "You're his best friend."

Patton frowned. "I'm okay, honestly. You seem to be taking it worse."

Virgil turned, swiveling to face Patton. "What do you know? Did they tell you anything?"

"Not much, just that the mission went badly and he's MIA." Patton held up his hands defensively. "Besides, if they told anyone anything, I'm sure it would've been you."

"What do you mean?" asked Virgil slowly.

"Well, I mean, what with his feelings for you…" Patton trailed off at the look on Virgil's face. "You… You don't know, do you? He never told you."

"Told me what?" Virgil sat up straight, hands braced against Patton's shoulders, brown eyes ablaze.

Patton adjusted his glasses. "He… I, uh… I'm not sure it's mine to tell, Vee—"

"Tell me! He's MIA anyway, might be dead!" Virgil was frantic now. "Whatever it is, I'm sure he wouldn't mind!"

Patton sighed. "Well, alright then, if you put it that way. Roman… he really liked you. He told me once he could never tell you because being a spy is dangerous, and he didn't want it to hurt you if something were to happen to him."

Virgil sat back, a shocked chuckle escaping his mouth. "I don't believe it. All this time… and he didn't want to hurt me if he disappeared? He didn't think it would hurt me either way?"

"I don't know, Virge." Patton shook his head. "I'm really sorry, but I've got to go call Logan. I'm fairly certain neither of them know yet, and they're his brothers. I doubt this will go well." Patton stood, stretching. He pulled his phone from his pocket, dialing a number as he walked towards the kitchen.

Virgil flopped backward to lay face-up on the couch, staring at the ceiling. It had been bad enough before, but this new information changed everything.

They'd gone for a long walk through the woods by Roman's house, he and Roman, just a day before he went missing. Roman had stopped every few feet to pick flowers and sing songs from Snow White and Sleeping Beauty. Virgil had rolled his eyes the whole time, trying to hide how much he'd actually enjoyed it, but when Roman had begun reciting lines from Romeo and Juliet, and, he thought, one or two from Hamlet, twirling a rose between his fingers, Virgil had let a genuine smile escape.

Virgil hadn't even considered that it may have been a date—had it been a date? Would he ever find out?

Roman had walked Virgil home, and, upon reaching their destination, had twirled the red rose between his fingers one more time. Then, making eye contact the whole time, he'd wrapped Virgil's fingers around the flower before bringing Virgil's hand up to his mouth to brush his lips across the emo's knuckles. Virgil didn't think he'd breathed until he was safely inside his house and Roman had begun to walk away.

Looking back, he supposed that part had seemed almost like a date.

From the kitchen, he heard an (only slightly muffled) yell of, as far as he could tell, "He WHAT?" Judging by the muffled sound, Logan wasn't even on speakerphone, he was just loud, and Virgil worried for Patton's hearing.

After a minute, Patton came back from the kitchen. He kept repeatedly sticking a finger in one of his ears, and Virgil could've sworn he'd muttered, "At this rate, I'm going to lose my hearing early."

"Did it go well?" Virgil asked.

Patton exhaled heavily, sitting down next to Virgil. "You could say that. Logan's on his way over now. Well, he'll tell Remus, and then they'll both come."

Virgil closed his eyes, rubbing at his temples. He didn't want to deal with this, not today. While Loan was usually on the quieter side, he could be loud when it came to something he cared about, and Remus— Remus was truly Roman's twin; loud and dramatic. Ninety percent of the time, the two were at each other's throats, but Virgil had always suspected that they got along better than they pretended to. After all, both were skilled actors—he'd witnessed that first-person.

Virgil felt Patton begin to massage his shoulders, and while he appreciated it, he didn't have much energy left to react. He made a small noise of appreciation instead.

"I know you're tired," Patton said softly, "but please. Please just bear with it? Don't leave me to deal with them on my own."

"Fine," Virgil replied, eyes still closed.

A loud knock sounded a few minutes later, and Patton stood to answer the door. The two remaining brothers entered. Logan's quiet, evenly-paced footsteps halted in front of Virgil, while Remus' larger, lurching steps stayed by the door.

"Is he alright?" asked Logan's voice, presumably in reference to Virgil.

"I'm fine, just tired." Virgil blinked his eyes open to meet Logan's gray-almost-lavender ones.

Logan's eyes were familiar, but the way he was gazing at Virgil was not.

"Hey, w-why are you looking at me like that?" Suddenly self-conscious, he played with a loose string on the end of his sleeve.

Logan shook his head, as if resurfacing from his thoughts, and moved back. "My apologies. It's nothing." That was odd.

Virgil pulled his jacket closer around him, seeking some kind of tactile comfort in the familiar garment. He paid no attention to the conversation between the other three, even as their voices rose, instead drifting further into his thoughts. He wished he could curl up under a blanket and pretend like everything was fine.

-----

Taglist:

@moxiety-my-love @ace-n-anxious @whispers-stuff-in-your-ear @acompletemusicalnerd @treasureofpriam @bitteryjittery-and-very-glittery

[choisgirls]

Not Afraid of the Night { JuminxMC- Soulmate!AU }

Heya howdy doodle doo! I hope this is a-okay for y’all ^^ WORDS: 2,202 

Again, like JIHYUN’S, no keep reading because the format tends to mess up for mobile?

           "Assistant Kang, please book another appointment with my hair dresser," Jumin sighed into his intercom. He just had an appointment the other day, what is wrong with this person?

           A person's soulmate shares their hair colour when dye is used. Some soulmates just dye their hair a normal colour for a change, not much of a difference between the two of them, it works out. Perhaps that was the reason most people didn't meet the right one? Everyone was too alike in that way. Jumin would be fine with a nice, simple, normal hair colour if his soulmate were to choose it.

           Do they?

           The answer is no.

           He's constantly having to re-dye his hair to black to cover what his other half does to their hair. It's always a bright, crazy colour. He cannot tell you how many times he's had to dismiss meetings abruptly because his dark hair changed to a hot pink before everyone's eyes. How was he supposed to run his company when his clients cannot take him seriously with bright coloured hair? He can't. It's impossible for them to pay attention and for him to get anything done. Perhaps he should invest in hats instead? Oh, but wearing hats inside is disrespectful, hmm.

           He finds himself staring into the refection of his wine glass, his once dark hair now bright dyed green. The other day, it was a bright yellow, Yoosung told him he was jealous of the shade. The week before it was a bright white, which Zen was not happy about.

           "Are you trying to rival my beauty? It won't happen! A robotic CEO? As handsome as me? Not possible!" he had said in the chatroom, hogging the space, leaving no room for Jumin to reply how he dislikes it in the first place. What was going through this persons head? He'd like to analyze just what made them want to do such a ridiculous thing, so often. Don't they realize it can be really bad for their hair? Not to mention the fumes that must come off of the dyes...

           His day progressed- not falling short with the hushed whispers and secret glances as his new-found neon hair. No one dared to say anything loud enough for him to hear, and most certainly no one dared to confront him about it. The only person to have spoken a word was Assistant Kang, who simply called it "interesting" and went back to her work. Was it truly interesting? Maybe he just wasn't seeing what you were seeing in it?

           Meetings came and went, the day moved on to the next. He had dyed his hair back to black, thankfully, and was able to get some work done- no thanks to you. A week or so later, you had dyed your hair again, at least this time it was a nice darker auburn that didn't look too terribly bad on him. It was more natural, he could work with it. Then, it had stopped for a good few months. No weird colours, no colour change at all, in honesty. He took notice to his roots growing out, the dyed colour slowly fading back to his black.

           Perhaps you had given up? Maybe you  just no longer enjoyed the colours? Were you finally taking a break to take care of your hair? The more he thought about it, the more distracted he was from his work. Were you okay? Had something happened to you? Were you... still with him in this world? He hasn't been able to meet you, you couldn't leave him just yet..

           If you had asked the CEO in line a year or two ago if soulmates had existed, he would have genuinely laughed in your face. Jihyun had tried telling him that there was someone out there for him, specifically. He wasn't one to partake in expressing emotions in the first place- they took too much effort and he didn't see the point.

           He had spent so much time hating the idea of a spouse after seeing how quickly his father cycled through... success-driven women, putting it nicely. Not-so-nicely, he was horrified by all of the gold diggers constantly trying to get close to him. He didn't see the point in having relationships if people only wanted him for his money.

           Not only does that fear stop him, but he's been... struggling with another sort of emotion. His infatuation with Rika left him questioning himself. She was the one person he had felt feelings for, and she was with his best friend. She.. was never meant to be his. What if it ended up being the same for the two of you? What if he were to meet you, and it turns out you were someone else's? Or, even as soulmates, the two of you just.. didn't work out? What if his work got in the way? What if you were never meant to be his as well?

           The nights that he couldn't sleep were full of thoughts like these. Not even Elizabeth the Third could deter his worries. Hell, he could have passed you in a building and never have known. What if you had done business with him? What if you actually worked for him? No, you couldn't work for him, no one with insanely bright hair like that would work for him. He decided it was time to just focus on his work. He did have a few new potential clients to meet over the course of the next month. Thoughts like these were going to have to wait. He'd have to put them under lock and key.

           Though the next week, he started to notice piece by piece, that you must have been dying the tips of your hair multiple colours again. He actually felt a sense of relief, to see that you're okay- that you're still here in this world with him. Until one day, he had woken up to find his whole head, covered in a bright rainbow. He tried to refuse coming into work, though it was the day the company's important meeting was being held, so Assistant Kang practically begged that he reconsider that option. He also didn't have time to invite his hair stylist in to fix his situation. It was time to just... accept it, and do what he had to do.

With a bout of false confidence, he took a deep breath and pushed open the door to the meeting, bracing himself for the stares and ridiculing remarks. Beyond the door, however, it took one look for his heart to completely stop, his feet stopping in their tracks as well.

Sitting at the table across from him was a person with bright, rainbow coloured hair.

The moment the two of you met gazes, Jumin could feel a sharp shock through his chest.

Jaehee had to usher him into the room and practically lead the meeting, because he couldn't help but keep glancing over to you, and he'd get tongue tied every time. He was trying his best to keep his emotions under lock, as per usual, but he couldn't help it. He sat across from you- he got a chance to study your features. Your soft expression, the way your eyes shine with untapped creativity- always analyzing, searching for the beauty in things. You didn't need to speak for him to realize how much you appreciated the expressions and emotions in everything around you, he could tell it all from your hair choices over the years. He couldn't wait to talk to you- would he even be able to? Or would he miss his chance and watch you slip between his fingers? Would he fumble on his words- would it be apparent that he had no prior experience with emotions like this? Before he could snap out of it, the meeting had been wrapped up and you were walking out of the door. Catching a glimpse of the disappointment on your face, he struggled to push himself out of the chair he was in- his pocket getting caught on the arm of the chair as he stumbled, attempting to catch himself. Instead, he knocked his neighbors cup over, getting coffee on himself and dropped it a few more times while he tried to pick it up. His heart was racing, pounding in his ears; The sound being replaced by the soft sound of your giggle.

Embarrassed, he raised his eyes to meet yours, too enchanted by the dust of red that graced your cheeks as you hid the dazzling smile behind your hand, extending the other as an offer to help the bumbling idiot in front of you. He felt his heart beat right out of his chest when his fingertips touched the palm of your hand. He couldn't wait to hear what your first words to him would be. He'd secretly been waiting for quite some time to hear what his soulmate's first words will be.

"You're the asshole who keeps dyeing my hair black! And you're a bumbling buffoon, too!"

He wasn't expecting that.

But damn, if you didn't say it with the utmost graceful movements of your lips.

He tried to swallow the lump in his throat, to explain that he never acted this way, that he was truly more composed with less of... this. But he couldn't find the words- he couldn't do anything but open and close his mouth like fish- he truly was a buffoon, wasn't he.

Looking down at his shoes, he started to feel tears well up into his eyes. Was he really about to cry? He couldn't even talk to you- couldn't tell you how much just the thought of you changed his world, how much he craved the relationship his best friend had with his own fiancé, how afraid he was to lose you before he could even meet you, how much he want to-

No. He couldn't do this. He had to say something- anything to make you stay. He shut his eyes and held them closed- he was always sharp, quick witted, but why couldn't he talk to you? He talks to owners of large companies constantly, but one person? Just this one person, he couldn't?

How pathetic could he really be? The one time he needed to be his strongest, he completely folded like a house of cards.

For years, he had been watching from behind as his best friend move ahead with his life, going to bed each night with the person made just for him in his arms. Jihyun was always so happy- talking about his 'sun'- finding the beauty in everything that Rika had done. Where was that for him? He was left in the dark- fighting to reach the light that seemed so far away from him.

His father, constantly bringing him new women to meet- women who wanted one thing. Women always hanging off of him, touching him, hoping to get from him what they get from his father. He didn't want any of that, it wasn't what he wanted- not what he need. He needed someone who could understand him, someone who wouldn't want just his money or his fame. Someone who wanted him for all that he is- even if it wasn't close to perfect. Someone who wasn't dark in nature like they were. He wanted to get out of this night that held no stars.

All of these thoughts swarmed around in his head. He tried so hard to keep up the ruse that he was nothing but an emotionless robot; If he thought that way, then he could protect himself. But now, with the thought of you completely turning and leaving this room- leaving him behind yet again- he couldn't protect himself anymore. He was broken, and he was afraid.

It felt like hours later, yet his eyes flew open when fingertips gently touched his cheek, prompting him to look up at the alluring artwork in front of him. The light smile that enhanced your beauty tenfold was enough to make his face hot and his mind go completely blank.

"Hey," you said, in almost a whisper, dragging your thumb across his cheek as if it were fragile- like he would break at any moment. "My name's MC. It's nice to meet you- please don't cry. I've been looking for you for a very long time. Would you want to go settle on a calmer hair colour together?"

And for once, in years, he didn't mind the vivid colours that sat upon his head.

Sure, he was left in the dark.

But with him now were his own set of Northern Lights.

Someone so bright, vivid, colourful, yet so soft to help guide him home. To help him realize what home could really be. Something never ending- something that the two of you could start in the middle and would still find beautiful and inviting. Something unique to the both of you, something he desperately wanted to grasp and hold as if he was afraid to break it. He wanted to get to know you, piece by piece, colour by colour.

And he wasn't as afraid of the night anymore.

Masterlist~

[alabastertouch]

Documented Feelings | Part II

Genre: Angst, Fluff, and a little smutty??? *smirks*

Characters: Jung Jaehyun x Reader (and the 97 liners yay)

Warning/s: some cussing, suggestive themes

Summary: Your class requires a documentation of you being in a relationship with someone until death do you part. It didn’t require you to fall in love, though.

A/N: Yo, my people!!! This is the second part of this Jaehyun scenario (which I’m totally happy for!!!) pls pls pls don’t put your hopes up, but I hope you’ll love it! I’ve never written a second part before, so.... 

You can read the first part here! I will post an epilogue for this (maybe a smutty epilogue hmmm hmm? 😏)

[⏮ REWIND]

[🔴 REC]

“Y/N, where are you going?!” Chaeyeon shrieks.

“Y/N, where are you going?! Stop!” Yuna repeats, having a hard time running to you because your steps are horribly large. You find them under the sycamore tree behind the university’s grandstand, and you stop on your tracks when you finally find them.

You cannot hear anything they are saying, but you figure that Yerim’s words still has an effect on Jaehyun, with the way he can’t look into her eyes. You know you’re being the barrier between a possible reconciliation, and all thoughts of telling her off is thrown out of the window.

“Oh, unnie!” You hear Yerim scream, turning Jaehyun’s head towards you. After finding out that you have witnessed them together, his eyes widen, and he is almost ready to explain himself.

“Yuna, let’s go!” You pull your best friend’s arm, but she is obviously torn between turning to you and Jaehyun… and even Yerim.

“But—”

“I’m going, with or without you,” You snap, walking away from the scene.

You see Eunjin and Chaeyeon looking at you in worry, looking back at where the previously flourishing couple are standing. You just shake your head and return to the cafeteria, where a stressed out Mingyu and Minghao are waiting for your arrival.

Jungkook, who is beside them, opens his arms for you to snuggle at, and you did, with silent tears soaking his favorite hoodie.

“Will you please talk to me, Y/N?” Jaehyun has gotten tired of you running away from him since his encounter with Yerim last week. You missed one week of presentation, which you assume is the reason why he is so pissed.

“If this is about this week’s presentation, I can talk to Miss Go about it,” you roll your eyes before you take your books that needs working on out of the locker.

“We both know this isn’t about that at all, Y/N,” he takes the books from your hand.

“Then what?” You walk away, letting him carry everything. You know you’re being a pain in the ass, but you aren’t quite sure if you have a reason to be. After all, he did not give you any kind of hope. “You want me to hear you talk about how in love with Yerim you are, Jaehyun? I won’t listen to it.”

“Can we stop talking about Yerim for just a second?!” He drops your books on the floor, frustration getting ahead of him. He mutters his apologies quickly as he picks them up. In haste, he grabs your wrist and takes you to some place where no one else can hear your heated conversation.

Once you reach the back of the school grandstand, he lets go off you, and your books are settled on a bench.

“What is there to talk about, Jae?” You look everywhere… at the leaves falling behind him, on the runners tracking all around the field for their third lap, and Yerim who is watching you from the benches across. Her figure cannot go unnoticeable, so you easily detect her presence, albeit far away.

“I’m sure as hell it isn’t about the project, Y/N,” he holds your wrist, preventing you from walking away once again. You’ve successfully done so for the past couple of days, but now, you are about to waver.

“We can’t do it like before, Jaehyun. Yerim’s back.” You remind him, though there really is no need for a reminder.

“So? What does she have to do with this?” You can see how genuinely confused he is. You sigh, knowing that it’s time to let him know about your feelings, or else the both of you will suffer in the long run.

You take your backpack off and fish for something out, and you feel the flaking edges of the small leather journal. When you show it to him, his eyes widen and his cheeks turn red in surprise.

“How do you have that?” He breathes out.

“Mark gave it to me,” you hesitated before exposing the poor boy, but you say it anyway. “I read the lyrics of the songs you wrote.”

Jaehyun bites his lower lip, and you can see the conflict going on in his mind. There might have been something beginning to bloom between the two of you, but with Yerim’s arrival, it is cut short.

“Hey, unnie, oppa!” Yerim greets cheerfully. You have no idea what you are doing still standing in front of them, and getting in the way of them getting back together as well. “Are you two okay?”

“Yeah,” you beat Jaehyun in responding. “I have errands to do, so…” You leave, taking your pile of books and not bothering to look at the male slowly breaking your heart, if he hasn’t already.

And you just watch Yerim confront Jaehyun… worriedly.

But you didn’t look long enough to see him longing for you.

“Wow, you look like… uh…” Jungkook steps back, taking in Jaehyun’s appearance in front of him. His brown locks are all over the place, all untamed and uncombed. “Shit.”

“Thanks,” Jaehyun occupies the seat beside Jungkook. Mr. Ahn hasn’t arrived it, and if Minghao heard correctly from Seokmin, Mr. Ahn isn’t coming today because of an appointment.

“Yeah, it’s true. Yuna said she and Y/N just did other stuff for the whole hour,” Seokmin confirms this information. Jaehyun’s head lifts up after hearing your name, and Mingyu can’t help but snicker.

“Ah, you miss wifey?” Mingyu teases, though he’s aware of the quarrel you’ve been having. “I saw her a while ago. She looks sad.”

“Mingyu, stop,” Minghao hisses, trying to stop any further arguments.

“Just saying,” Mingyu holds his hands up. “You better tell her you don’t love Yerim anymore or you’ll lose your chance.”

“Guys! Guys!” Yugyeom, with his whiny voice, rushes inside the classroom.

“Dude, don’t you have a class?” Jungkook raises a brow at his friend… with a class from the other building.

“Yes, but everyone’s panicking because Y/N fell down the stairs!”

And before everyone knows it, Jaehyun bolts out of the room, not knowing where to go, but leading him to where you are, in the infirmary with Yuna nagging about looking down the stairs when walking.

“Oh, Jae, you’re here,” Yuna stops her litany when she sees Jaehyun exhausted from all the running. He watches your head turn to him, eyes wide and questioning his presence.

“Yeah,” he exhales loudly one last time and walks towards the bed where the school doctor is wrapping your foot up. “You okay?”

“Uh,” you clear your throat before you are able to make a response. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just being clumsy, I guess.”

“Hey, Jae, Mr. Ahn said he isn’t coming today at all, but Miss Lee needs our presence, so can you help Y/N up? The school doctor has given me an excuse slip for her.” Yuna requests sheepishly, and you just bite your lip.

Jaehyun cannot help but chuckle. He did miss you.

“Of course. I’m done for the day anyway,” Jaehyun takes your backpack from Yuna. “Let’s go?”

“Don’t take a bath with the cast on, Y/N,” Dr. Jang reminds. “And Jaehyun, dear, help her use the crutches.”

So Jaehyun does, holding you up and props you on the crutches.

In this close proximity, Jaehyun’s breath hitches. Seeing you in agony pains him, and he regrets not telling you soon that he hasn’t written any sad song at all ever since you came into his life.

The last song about Yerim was written a year ago.

The day you met, he had a project for music class, but since he had no time to write something new as he got preoccupied with your project, he had to use the songs screaming out his broken heart in order to achieve the deadline. He expected it to unravel his past, but surprisingly, he didn’t feel the constriction of his chest.

Even when Yerim returned, all he wanted was to see you.

“Uh, you can go now, Jae,” you whisper. “I’m fine.”

But Jaehyun makes no move to steer away. Instead, he helps you to situate inside your car.

“Give me your keys, Y/N. I’m driving you home.” With a broken leg, you’re sure you can’t drive home, so you give it to him.

“How about your car?”

“I’ll just ask the guys to bring it back,” Jaehyun simply shrugs as he turns the key in the ignition, he checks you first to make sure that the seatbelt is properly buckled.

The silence of the ride is tense, and Jaehyun cannot bear it. Although you are the quiet type, Jaehyun never had a dull moment with you and just always found himself smiling at the thought of you. He doesn’t know where you are in yours and his complicated relationship, but he hopes you are on the same page.

“I miss you,” you are the first one to speak, and when he stops on a red light, he looks at your glassy dark irises and basks in your beauty. “So much, it hurts.”

You’ve never been expressive either, so Jaehyun is happy you are opening yourself up to him.

“I couldn’t talk to you without Yerim interrupting, so I think now’s my chance,” you take a deep breath, and as he’s watching you struggle to find the right words, he beats you to it.

“I like you,” and your eyes open once again, looking at him in complete disbelief. “Actually, scratch that. I’m in love with you, and I can’t bear not knowing how you’re doing. Yerim’s return only made me realize how much stronger I feel for you than I ever felt for her.”

For the first time in weeks, Jaehyun is finally able to see your smile.

The light turns green, and while you are holding each other’s gazes so lovingly, the cars behind you are honking. You tell him to stop by a sidewalk, and he does so by taking a parking spot nearby.

“And those songs?” You question, voice shaking.

“Were written a long time ago,” Jaehyun confirms honestly. “I had to copy some lyrics from my old portfolio because I was a lazy ass. I haven’t written those kinds of songs for a year.”

His sincerity makes your heart skip a beat, and he takes your silence as a permission to do something he’s been wanting to do for quite a while.

He grabs your face and kisses you with so much passion and longing.

Your hands snake around his neck, fingers fumbling on the hair behind his nape, and he is indulging in the delight of having his lips on yours.

“I love you, Y/N, for real. Not just for this documentation shit. Actually, I’m thanking Miss Go for putting the cherry on top of the sundae. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have the guts to actually know you better.” Jaehyun bashfully confesses.

“Jung Yoonoh, we belong to the same group of friends,” you chuckle as you call him by his real name.

“Still,” he pouts. “Mingyu’s making fun of me for being a coward.”

“Oh,” and to your surprise, his lips lower to your neck, doing experimental licks before he begins sucking on a sweet spot.

“Jae!” You squeal, which honestly sounded a bit like a moan. After his surprising actions, he pecks your lips before actually pulling away from you.

You look at the rearview mirror to see what he did. He looks so proud of what he did, though, with no regrets shown in his features.

Yeah, a red spot.

“Jaehyun!”

“Hey, dum dum,” Mingyu greets you at lunch the next day, wondering why you’re sporting a turtleneck jacket during such a hot day. “Dude, remove your jacket. It’s a hundred degrees outside.”

“Actually, I’m cold,” you lie, though your armpits are now sweating because of the weather. Deciding you’ve gotten enough of the jacket, you slowly peel it off yourself, hoping your hair is covering whatever marking your neck is adorned with.

“Ahhh!” Minghao suddenly yells, surprising Jaehyun who is with him when they got their lunch trays. “Y/N, what’s that on your neck?!”

You press your eyes close, all hopes dissipated.

“Oh, yeah,” Jaehyun sits beside you, smirking. “What’s that, baby?”

“I’ll get lunch,” you excuse yourself from the embarrassment your boyfriend will cause you if you stay longer.

“Hmm,” Mingyu hums. “I take my word back, Jung, you’re not so cowardly after all.”

[◼︎REC]

[⏭ FORWARD]

[thoughtful-yoongi]

Love Scenario

Jung Hoseok x Reader

inspired by ikon’s love scenario: mv lyrics

words: 2.3k

“We were in love, we met, that’s good enough.

I loved you.”

Everywhere you went it seemed a piece of him was there, whether it be a fan or a song playing or his face on an advertisement. Although the ending of your relationship was mutual it didn’t make it any easier. You couldn’t accept the being away from him so long, and he couldn’t accept being the cause of your misfortune.

Jung Hoseok was just too considerate to keep tearing you apart like that.

No matter how bad it hurt, however, you often found your mind wondering to precious memories even after a year and a half.

“We met and became a memory that can’t be erased.”

Meeting someone like Hoseok is just like how many would expect. He was very charismatic and lit up the room like a small, personal source of sunshine. You didn’t consider yourself shy but the first time you spoke to him you could barely even get a word out. You were working at a daycare when Hoseok came to pick up his nephew for the first time.

“Uhm, I’m sorry, but I can’t let you take him.”

“Didn’t my sister call?” He was still smiling, despite your denial of his request.

“She didn’t, but would you like to call her and let me speak to her?”

“Of course! Give me a second.”

After the whole situation was settled over the phone, Hoseok didn’t hesitate to show his bubbly personality to you. “I’m glad my my nephew was in the care of someone as persistent as you.”

“I-I wasn’t annoying, was I?”

“No, that’s not what I meant at all!” He flashed a smile your direction bright enough to blind someone, “I’m seriously glad he can be safe with you-…”

“(Y/N).”

“(Y/N), that’s a pretty name. Do you know who I am?”

You were a little confused by his question. “Well yes, you told me a little while ago your name was Jung Hoseok.”

He laughed at this, and at the time you didn’t understand. “That’s good; I’d rather you know me as Hoseok.”

It was mere hours later when you saw him on twitter under the description of ‘J-Hope’ and messaged the number he gave you asking about it. Hoseok simply restated his previous though; “I’d rather you know me as Hoseok.”

“The love scenario that we made, now the lights are off.”

Your first date was thrilling, ‘like a spy movie’ you had told him. All black from head to toe the both of you made your way through small crowds of drunken people in the middle of the night before finding a deserted park. A small part of your mind smiles at the memory now, because leave it to him to have such an unconventional but exciting first date.

When the both of you were finally alone on the top of a small hill you removed your face masks, and the smile he gave you was one of the most genuine smiles you’d ever been given the honor of witnessing. “I’m sorry it’s so late (Y/N), my schedules are getting tougher to work around with the comeback coming up.”

At this time the boys of BTS were getting ready to release The Most Beautiful Moment In Life Pt.1, and you quickly caught on to how hard it’d be to make time for each other. That, of course, didn’t stop you from agreeing to stargaze at nearly 1 am. “I don’t mind but, Hoseok, you can’t really see any stars right now. We’re too far in the city.”

“What if I told you the star I wanted to look at was you?”

“I’d tell you that’s almost too corny to be romantic.” You giggled as your eyes left the sky and met his, and the feelings you had that night still haven’t left your gut, even after being apart from him for so long. If it wasn’t your first date you would’ve kissed him.

It was a good thing he felt the same way and kissed you instead.

“Today was our yesterday and now there’s no tomorrow It hurts but if we dragged it out more, it would’ve become a scar.”

Hoseok was out promoting Young Forever and you were alone again.

After a year of dating Hoseok you’d figured you’d learn to live with his absence. They all say “distance makes the heart grow fonder” but it was so difficult to find truth in that statement. Why were you feeling so heartbroken when your heart was supposed to grow to love him more?

It was late and you were more emotional than ever, clutching a pillow to your chest and letting a few tears softly fall. Even when hearing the click of the door resonate through your apartment you didn’t budge, because who else would come in at nearly four in the morning?

You heard him walk to and fro through the other rooms before he finally climbed into your bed beside you ten minutes later. His arms wrapped around your middle and pulled you into him, and in this moment you forgot how to handle the silence. The sniffling tone of your voice betrayed you as you revealed, “I miss you.”

“I missed you too.” He furthered his head into the crook of your neck and began placing feather-soft kisses on your shoulder. “Have you been crying (Y/N)?”

“I-”, you take a shaky breath to calm yourself, “I didn’t say I missed you Hoseok. I said I miss you.”

He knew what you meant but continued to play dumb; he obviously didn’t want this conversation to ever pop up. “But I’m right here.”

He shifted his position to place kisses on your neck but you abruptly turned in your place and he physically stiffened seeing your tear-stained face. “I love you so much, but I’m starting to think you’re too busy for me. And that’s okay, I wouldn’t want to keep you from your dream job and I don’t want to be selfish.”

Hoseok was staring into your eyes with so much sadness it was almost unbearable to look at. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“It feels like I’ve already lost you.”

Tears began to well up in his eyes but you knew he wouldn’t let them escape. Feigning strength he laughed, “You’ll always have me. Maybe not physically, but whenever I cannot be here the days are so long and you’re all I can think about. Whenever my courage wavers I know you’ll support me and I’ll never stop loving you for that.”

“I’ll love you forever too.”

You should’ve known with the rising fame of BTS he couldn’t truly promise to make more time for you, but he promised anyways. And you believed it.

He was gone the next morning when you woke up.

“I loved you and I was loved, so that’s good enough for me.”

The hard times apart was why you and Hoseok broke up in the end, but the chills that run down your spine when thinking about the happy memories never go away. You’re glad but deep down know that will only ever cause trouble for you in the future.

Yet, you can’t help but wonder if he gets happy thinking about you too, even still.

One of your favorite memories was a late spring evening when Hobi tried to teach you to slow dance. Being graceful with your body was not your forte, so your movements were very rigid and awkward. He didn’t care and still laughed and swayed with you for hours on the kitchen floor to help you forget the troubles of that day. Thinking back now, you can’t even remember what you had been stressing about, but thank god for it because Hoseok held you in his arms for what felt like a small eternity.

He was such an attentive lover, and would remind you of how much he loved you every chance he got. This meant whispering sweet nothings in your ear, kisses for no particular reason, and a lifetime supply of backhugs.

There was no question of how much he loved you, and the same could be said of how much you loved him. You weren’t ready to admit it, but you were in love with him still. But he ended things, not being able to forget how loud and painful your crying was to listen to when you missed him. He’d sneak in to surprise you by being home but was only met with the distant sounds of your sniffles.

The one specific incident, however, pushed him and you both over the edge.

“A pretty good ending, that’s all I need.”

“You literally just got here.”

“I know (Y/N), I’m sorry. I’ll be home later.”

He was turning to go but you caught his hand, “When later?”

You could tell by the edge in his voice he was getting a little annoyed. “I don’t know, just later.”

“What am I to you?” Even you were surprised by how your voice had risen, and your tone got his attention as well as he was turning back around to face you with remorse written across his face. You continued on, “I feel like a revolving door Hoseok. You walk on through, in and out again but you never stay.”

He sighed and you knew this conversation was old news but you couldn’t help it. “You know there’s nothing I can do about it. I hate it too.”

Inhaling a shaky breath you press on. “I don’t want to cry about you anymore.”

The silence that followed was deafening and you hadn’t grasped the full effect of your own words until it was too late. “I don’t want you to cry anymore either. I’m starting to loathe myself for being the reason.”

“I don’t want you to be angry with-”

“But I am angry. You don’t deserve this.”

The intense look the both of you shared was enough for you to know where this conversation was going, but you didn’t want to believe it. “But I love you.”

“I love you, and because I love you I have to let you go, I have to let you be free of me who is causing your unhappiness.”

Being breathless with emotion you were unable to voice how he was your happiness.

“I already miss you but I’m trying not to, I’ll remember you like a warm spring in a movie.”

Everyday after that felt like a battle. Wake up. Get ready. Try to look happy. Repeat.

Even the kids at the daycare you worked at noticed something off, but you quickly bounced back outwardly to ward off any suspicion of your misfortune. Hoseok didn’t pick up his nephew anymore.

It wasn’t even until months later you saw him again, and it was only through a television screen.

It was fitting, because the god parts of your relationship made up such a cheesy romantic comedy it was almost too good to be a movie. He always brought the mood of spring and laughter and love with him every time he was near, just like the first time he entered into your life.

Today, as you are walking to work, you can hear music all around the crowded streets of the city, and some of the music includes his voice. He was inescapable and it seemed you’d never be free of him like he had hoped.

Even if you were supposed to be getting over him you didn’t mind. When picturing him in your mind you were reminded of all the good things in life, although he was the best thing and was taken away.

Sometimes it seemed like you’d never see him in person again, but then a familiar face walked through the door to drop off his new niece.

“(Y/N).”

“Hoseok.”

His eyes met yours in the most nostalgic way and you could feel fear bubble up inside you; fear that this moment will be too short and you’ll never see him again. “How have you been?” He’s trying to make conversation.

“Okay.” That’s a lie. “How are you?”

“I’ve been okay too.”

The silence that followed was broken by his sassy niece clearing her throat.

You laughed, along with Hoseok who took that as a hint to check her in. “I didn’t think you’d still work here.”

“I’m content. Bangtan was gotten very popular, congratulations.”

“Thank you, we’re actually going to an American awards show soon.”

He was going to leave very soon, too soon than you liked. There were so many things your heart was begging you to blurt out.

I love you.

I miss you.

Please come home.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you around.”

“Bye then.”

He was halfway to the door when he turned and your eyes locked. His eyes were overflowing with an all too familiar emotion as this very scene felt too nostalgic for comfort. The last time this happened  he left your apartment and never came back.

“I’ve missed you (Y/N).”

You mustered all your courage, because as much as you wanted to say it back you knew you couldn’t. There were so many other things you wanted to say but you only had time for one thing before he was out the door and out of your life indefinitely.

In a split-second you decided to tell him what you wished you could have that year and a half ago when he was walking out on you and your relationship for what he thought was for your own sake. You decide to tell him the only thing you could know to be true at this point.

“You were my happiness.”

“We were in love, we met, and that’s good enough.”

did you like it? was it too angsty? did you want a happy ending? let me know all your thoughts!

daisy xoxo

[justanotherbuckydevotee]

All I Could Do Was Cry - Part 1

Word Count: 1,259 words. Prompt: “I’ve loved you my whole life and you’re about to marry somebody that’s not me. I can’t watch you do that” Warning(s): Angst.  A/N: Written for @theassetseyeliner for their writing challenge. Thank you for letting me be part of this, and thank you for giving me the extension. 

Hopefully I won’t disappoint. Note that English is not my first language. Happy reading! P/S: Steve will be in the next and final part so bear with me.

masterlist part 1 || part 2 || Epilogue

**Credit to the owner of the picture. I only cropped and added the title in**

“(y/n)?” a soft voice asked, pulling the door slowly.

You couldn’t contain it anymore. You didn’t have any more energy to pretend that everything’s okay. You were tired, so damn tired of having to put a happy façade –to smile in front of your friends as you watch her live the life you had pictured for yourself. Exhaustion had settled deep into your bones when the women who’d stolen his heart came out from the dressing room, her previous attire of jeans and his hoodie now replaced with a dreamy off-white a-line dress, fitting her so perfectly.

When your group of friends gasped at her reveal, you could only clutch the glass of bubbling champagne tighter in your hands, because it’s when you realize this is happening, that you’ve completely lost him to this perfect woman.

It would have been easier to hate her, but being friends since college and now working together at a corporate organization had instilled in you that the word ‘hate’ cannot be associated next to Peggy Carter. Head-strong and confident, it was her attitude towards a sexist comment during a heated debate in your class that drew you to be friends with her.

In less than a week, you’d found yourself a new addition to your growing circle of friends.

Your chest hurt at the memory, at the sight of Steve. The moment that he extended his hand to shake hers you could see how smitten he was at Peggy, and who wouldn’t? Just like the other girls in your group she was fiery, and Steve was always a sucker for those who lived life on the edge.

Jealousy reared its ugly head when Steve asked you about her, but what right did you have to deny him of his happiness? The decision to hide and suppress your feelings towards him had been yours alone –despite the others encouraging you to do the opposite. So you swallowed your feelings and told him, hell you even suggested him to go after her for months before Steve caved in.

He’s happy and that’s all that matters you kept telling yourself in the many months you witness their relationship blossom, a mantra to pull the strings of your sanity together. He’s happy and that’s all that matters you repeat every time you see him lace his arms around her waist, pulling her closer to him whenever they were together. He’s happy and that’s all that matters you lie to yourself when he came to Bucky and you for advice.

“Do you think she’ll say yes?” Steve asks, his voice barely registering to you as you look at the ring –his mother’s ring, sitting delicately in a black velvet box. Your fingers are numb when you reach out to touch it, wanting to verify that it was reality. Bucky’s next to him reassuring Steve that Peggy would instantly say yes.

It’s when Steve places a hand on your knee, worry written on his face when you hadn’t said anything, that pulls you out of your reverie. “I should’ve bought a ring, shouldn’t I?” he asks, defeated.

You shake your head, stuttering the word ‘no’ several times before placing the box into his palm. “It’s perfect, Steve” you managed to verbalize. Time slowed to you as his frowned turned to a smile, one that reaches his eyes like you’ve never seen before. You know both Bucky and yours’ opinions matter to him, so being one of his best friends you acted the way he expected you to, while simultaneously holding back your tears at the image of a timeless ring on the slender finger of Peggy’s, instead of yours like you’d dream since you were younger.

Natasha didn’t even see you slip from the joyous moment, only realizing your presence was missing when she looked around, noting your purse and coat she’d suspect you wouldn’t be far but she would need to hurry. Thankfully Sharon decided to gush about Peggy’s dress in that moment, allowing for Natasha to quietly leave.

She found you in a changing room at the furthest corner, away from all the happy chatter and laughter. From where Natasha stood, she could see perfectly your shoulders shaking as you tried to contain your breakdown.

“Hey” Natasha reached again, eyes wide with trepidation that you would run away from her attempt to comfort you.

“I can’t do this anymore” she heard you whisper. Turning around slowly, the sight of you broke Natasha’s heart. The frontage you pulled was crumbling with each gut-wrenching sob that tore through you, bringing your shaking hands to cover your quivering lips, muffling the sounds of your wailings and sufferings to the confines of these four walls.

Fully aware of what lay behind your words, Natasha nodded and closed her arms around you. The toll this took was heavy, and she admired you so much for your strength through it all. You grew up with Steve and Bucky as your next door neighbors, the troublesome blonde and brunette you’d established as your best-friends somewhere in middle school, when Steve punched a bully’s nose for pushing you on the side-walk when you walked home –your knight in shining armor disguised in the form of a small, wheezing kid when the bully punched him back.

High-school rolled in and with time your friendship with them both only strengthened. Where the other went, the two would undoubtedly be behind. And this was also when you realized your feelings for Steve; how your heart leapt out of your ribcage with his simple and subtle touch, the genuine smile you’d give only to him. You’d read about this in romance novels and seen it happen in the movies, but never did you expect yourself to fall into this clichéd category. Fear stuck as if someone poured ice-cold water over your head when you imagined a future without him. He had always been the one to help, the one who defended and the one who protected, and the thought of losing him because of your feelings had driven you to push it away.

You’d push the butterflies in your stomach whenever he laughed and wrapped his arm around your shoulders, contained the impending blush that crept to cover your cheeks when he compliments you (because Steve was nice like that), ignored the desire to have him with you, be more than just friends.

“It hurts so bad, Nat” you whimpered, allowing pity to console the unjust you felt, the agony of seeing the person you’d fallen for be married to someone who isn’t you. In this moment you allowed yourself to grief at the decision you’d settle for many years ago.

Natasha ran her hand gently over your head, stroking your hair to console you. “I know, (y/n)” she begins, holding your trembling body against hers before pushing you away so she could face you. “which is why you have to stop this. Your happiness matters too” she continues with a tenacious tone, though her eyes were laced with concern.

With all these raw emotions swirling inside, you could only nod in response. Too spent to argue with her right then and there because what is there to argue about? It was fact, an unyielding truth that you’d ignored your own chance at happiness for a lifetime of torture, that you’d equate him being happy as you being happy too, when really the outcome was the total opposite.

Seeing you slowly regain control, Natasha pushed on. “You have to tell him, because I can’t watch you suffer. Not anymore”

tagging: my angst royalty babes  @buckyywiththegoodhair @rotisserierogers @hellomissmabel @barnes-heaven @alphaabucky @minervaem @heartmade-writingbucky @buchananbarnestrash @captnbarnesrogers 

if you wanna be tagged, send me an ask

[seunghyun247-blog]

great white sharks vs killer whales || solo ft jongin

MENTIONED: @247jiyong , @247xbora , @247yoori , @sehun247 @247sooyoung

it’s the second to the last day of the trip and all seunghyun wants in the world right now is some goddamn alone time. he’s been followed around by camera crews and his tentmates, and then there’s the issue of him living so damn close to every enemy in high school he’s ever had. he tries not to make eye-contact with them, but how is he supposed to avoid them entirely when they are sleeping and eating and breathing just a few meters away from him? it’s hard to pretend things are fine, and even harder to do it under the watchful gaze of the television lens.

he feels like he’s going to explode soon—he’s never been able to handle stress very well.

but still, at least he’s managed to find a few minutes away from everyone else, a few seconds just to himself where he can smoke a cigarette without feeling guilty and let himself just embrace the overwhelming quiet of the atmosphere out here. he stands off to the edge of the woods, about a hill and a half away from the campsite where he can still see everything but from a good distance. he’s begun to think for the last day and a half that this trip might actually have been enjoyable had he been out here without the others. maybe he ought to come back soon, just to chill alone for a while, no friends or fake friends or camera flashes.

he drags in on the tobacco, closing his eyes for a long moment, letting the serenity surround him.

“got a light?” asks a voice just behind him.

without really thinking about it, seunghyun pulls out his lighter, his baseline need to be nice to others taking president over any other feelings of annoyance or frustration that his peace has been interrupted. he turns and holds the lighter up and out towards—

kim fucking jongin.

seunghyun is frozen for a moment, paralyzed entirely except the ability to merely blink once, his whole brain grinding to an absolute halt as their eyes meet; seunghyun’s wide, deer-in-the-headlights aesthetic meeting jongin’s, half-lidded and calm. they stand just a few feet away from each other, but seunghyun can already feel a heat in the air, some sort of toxic radiation from his younger half-brother and to say he was scared of the shorter male would be an understatement. he’s seen what jongin can do, what he has done, what he’s capable of--and anyone who’s seen that should be scared of him.

his blood runs cold before racing through his veins like it’s a competition and he struggles for a moment to force air into his lungs. jongin is everything seunghyun hated about high school, every torment, every nightmare. younger than him by two years, jongin has managed far more intense feats than seunghyun even wants to try for. he’s heard all the stories, all the rumors, all the snide remarks and evil plans. he’s personally witnessed jongin beating people until his knuckles and his clothes are bloody, giant grin on his face, insanity lurking in the corners of his eyes.

he takes a step forward and seunghyun wants to shrink back, but he doesn’t. maybe it’s the fear rooting him in place or maybe it’s his body reminding him that if you run from a rottweiler, they feel more compelled to chase you. he stands his ground though, his figure unmoving even though the worry is very apparent on his face, while jongin comes up and casually takes the lighter from his hand, holding the flame up to his own cigarette before breathing it in.

“i uh… i’m surprised.” seunghyun finds his voice, even though it’s a bit too breathy. “don’t you usually light your cigarettes with hellfire or something?”

he’s not sure why he’s just made that joke, but jongin does turn to him and give a half-grin anyway. although, knowing jongin, that still might not be such a good thing. “usually i do, over a bonfire of my enemies’ corpses.” he tosses the lighter back to seunghyun, who catches it without dropping his eyes from the other. it’s a joke... right? just him bolstering up his own reputation of course...

for an awkwardly long while, neither of them speak. seunghyun does his best not to creepily stare at the other, pinning his eyes to the ground while jongin looks out over the view of the camp, everything seeming much smaller and more manageable from this distance. they both sip on their cigarettes and listen to the bugs and the birds around them. he doesn’t know what to say or how to break the ice—isn’t sure whether this is jongin making some kind of peace or effort to reach out to him, and whether or not seunghyun will reciprocate it. he hadn’t let him come to their father’s funeral, which had been a heavy blow. seunghyun isn’t sure he wants to accept any sort olive branch from someone so selfish. but then jongin speaks and the confusion ends abruptly.

“so i know we all hate gossip girl, and some of us more than others, but she does on occasion make some interesting points and the reason i’m here right now, forcing myself to breathe the same air as you, is because i just want to make sure that one particular point she’s made recently is wholly and entirely false. and i want to be clear about this, i’m not doing this out of some grand gesture to check up on you or anyone, this is merely me reminding you where the line is between what you can have and what you cannot have.”

“what?” seunghyun squints. “what are you talking about?” honestly, the sheer audacity--

“sehun,” he turns his head and looks directly into seunghyun’s eyes. “you’re not fucking him, are you?”

“I—what?” the world stops. it could collide with a meteorite right about now and seunghyun wouldn’t be able to notice.

“see the post said he seemed unhappy about you getting engaged to little miss park and while i thought it was hilarious, i’ve got to wonder why.”

seunghyun feels stuck like a bug, motionless and bleeding somewhere he can’t see. revealing his relationship ( or dysfunctional mess ) with sehun to anyone would be disastrous, especially to jongin. if sehun, the devil’s own best friend, is scared of him and what he might do.... “i, i don’t… that’s not anything to do with me—that, he might have just been upset because of sooyoung…” and then he winces because it sounds like he is trying to shift blame onto one of his oldest friends. he doesn’t want to put her in the warpath of someone like jongin.

but his little brother is shaking his head, his eyes glowing eerily, the corner of his lips tilted upwards. “you and i both know sehun’s preferences don’t swing that way.”

seunghyun gulps. he tries to think of something to say but nothing comes. his brain is full of broken gears that refuse to turn. his throat starts closing up.

“alright let me make this clearer for you,” jongin sniffs, breathing in the smoke and shifting entirely to look straight at the other. “i’m doing you this as a favor, actually, given the fact that you don’t really know who he is or what he’s done. see, me and my people are sharks, we own the ocean, we’re apex predators. and you always have been and always will be just a whale…” seunghyun winces a bit at the old insult that followed him around through his years at cheongnam. “you don’t belong with us.”

being insulted like this, using that old nickname once again to make him feel inferior, actually bolsters something inside seunghyun, catching alight like a pyre. his eyebrows thread together in a glare that sharpens as jongin steps closer to him. he wants to tell him to fuck off, even with how unwise that is, but he has to think about sehun in this equation as well. there’s a reason sehun always has to pick on him in public, there’s a reason they’ve kept themselves secret this whole time. seunghyun grips a fist tightly. “there’s nothing between sehun and i,” he finds his voice, albeit still quiet. “and even if there was, he isn’t your property—“

but he’s cut off by jongin’s laughter, a short outburst that reverberates from his throat, like a cackle but darker, and it sends a shiver down seunghyun’s spine. the mirth doesn’t reach his eyes. “of course he is. there’s no real backing out of a situation with me, once they get involved. i’m like cancer; i’m never really gone and there’s always a chance for a relapse.”

“that’s just stupid.”

“for them, yeah,” he looks back at the campsite, still grinning. “but then, i never really force myself on people, they end up liking it well enough on their own.” something simmers in jongin’s pupils as he drags on his cigarette. “i mean, just ask your friend jiyong.”

for the second time in the last ten minutes, all of seunghyun’s blood runs cold, the world turns a sickening grey. there’s an implication there in the way he says jiyong’s name, more than just a secret between them, more than just a past life in high school. something’s happened. what? what?! WHAT?! “wha….. what are you….”

“oh he didn’t tell you about our little ‘ride’ in his lamborghini?” jongin feigns a look of surprise. “i thought you two were best friends?”

seunghyun’s chest feels like it’s a thousand pounds and he can’t even wrap his brain around, not just the idea of the two of them together or that jiyong failed to mention this massive fuck-up, but that he got involved with jongin after knowing the relationship between him and his brother? why... why the fuck doesn’t jiyong ever care about staying away people who genuinely hate seunghyun? at least showing some measure of wariness, of caution, or even a moment’s hesitation? suddenly seunghyun is on fire, and he finds enough rage to bring him a step closer to the shorter male. “what the fuck have you—“

“speaking of fuck, he’s pretty good, but i’ve got to wonder if his parents know how nasty and gay he is. or his newest, pretty girlfriend. bora is quite a nice piece, huh? didn’t you like her at some point?” jongin drags on his cigarette once again, completely unaffected by seunghyun’s anger. “don’t worry, hyungie, you’re not the only one hurting over her choosing mr. enigma-- seems she’s got quite a few wet dicks up her ass.”

“i’m not hurting!” seunghyun’s voice raises, his frustration boiling over, his heart hammering against his chest. “you stay the hell away from them, you leave jiyong and bora alone! and all of them! you’re goddamn curse, jongin! they’re not your toys—not jiyong, not sehun, not even yoori!”

up until that last moment, jongin’s face was pretty placid and more or less just amused, but then the name yoori falls out of seunghyun’s lips ( an accident really, simply because he’d met yoori and been contacted by her recently to help her out with her finances, and her situation had been on his mind ), and something deep and dark and cold shifts inside jongin. his whole demeanor changes, like a sudden eclipse, all the amusement vanishes as his countenance sharpens.

jongin isn’t called the devil simply because he is fiery and prone to anger. there is something deeper inside him, something inhuman, an unfeeling, black mass, a hole where his heart should be.

“you don’t know anything about yoori.” his voice is calm but the words sound like they’re being spat out by a void.

“i know she doesn’t want to be with you. she’s doesn’t love you.”

“love is irrelevant. is that what you think i’m talking about? something that pathetic?” jongin tilts his head and seunghyun gets another glimpse of that pure, inhuman remorselessness inside him. “i don’t give a shit who loves me or not. love me or hate me, doesn’t matter, she still belongs to me. she always will.” he closes the distance between them tighter, coming up to closer to seunghyun’s frown, not even bothering to match it, as though his frustration is simply irrelevant. “just like sehun. you think he loves you? loves you, while he’s sucking cock in dark alleyways and going on dates with strangers? at the end of the day, i have what he wants. not you. i’m not lying to you, the truth is always worse, so trust me when i say; he’ll always be more mine than yours.”

“why do you even care so much?”

“because that’s what sharks do. they rip their victims to shreds.”

seunghyun doesn’t say anything to that, can’t force words past his lips because he knows he’s a bad liar and anything else he can think to respond with would only be futile and unnecessary. plus there’s too many thoughts in his head, too much white-noise, too much overload of information he would rather have died than find out about. he’s not wrong; there is something inside seunghyun that feels torn up now, attacked for no reason. but he meets the devil’s eye, stands his ground and doesn’t flinch or loosen his clenched fist, even as jongin steps away from him, passing him and heading back into the woods.

“you know the thing about whales, jongin?” seunghyun asks, motionless as one of the trees, not even bothering to look at the other. he can hear as his half-brother’s footfalls stop, although he’s sure he’s too proud to turn and look back at him also. “you can ask any marine biologist on the planet and they’ll tell you… great white sharks are deadly, but they’re actually no match for killer whales.”

he can feel more than hear jongin’s grin and the light laughter as he resumes walking away.