#hahaha i worked hard so could u let me do this thanks

[arminsumi]

Could you pls pls pls write a fluffy oneshot of gojo and his fav student? The colour hair dye and the ice cream oneshots have never left my mind 🤭😭

CALL ME SATORU

↳ GOJO さとる + fem!reader

An evening training session with Gojo and his favorite student, ending as a lavish dinner date.

1k

Note : aaa i hope u like this!! hehe so giddy to know my fics are in ur mind 🤭💗 thank u for enjoying them

Mentioned posts : hair dye fic / sweet tooth

Warnings : teacher/student relationship, romantic tension

Playme : heaven and back

🍒 More from Jay : Gojo works / Gojo fave works / JJK works / oct. reqs open

"Gojo-sensei, I'm tired. We've been practicing for two hours." he listened to you complain, and shook his head.

"Tired? Nah. On your feet, let's go through that motion again. C'mon, up up up — what, do I have to pick you up myself?"

His arms hooked around you and he pressed his chest flat to yours while hoisting you up. Few things get his heart racing, but teaching you martial arts? He may seem very composed, but his heart throbs each time he sees you acting clumsy and amateur.

You had such a long way to go, and he wanted to see these days through until you were just as good if not better than him. Even if it was impossible. He still wanted his favorite student to be considered the second-strongest, at least in hand-to-hand combat.

"Ow, my knee..." you mumbled half-heartedly.

"Don't be a weakling." he smiled cheekily, "Is my star student really too tired to continue? Is a bruised knee really gonna stop you?"

You pouted. "You're the one who bruised my knee..."

Look at that adorable pout. She's taking after me.

"Well, maybe you shoulda dodged it." he cheeked.

"Gojo-sensei, you push me too hard." you said.

"I know, I'm sorry." he smiled.

The two of you finally sat down for a break. Night had fallen, stars were up in the blackened sky. There must have been a cricket in the wood panel of the door Gojo leaned against, because he heard it very loudly in his ear. So he scooted away from the noise and moved closer to you, unaware of how the increased proximity made you buzz.

You and him shared a thoughtful silence. Then his voice penetrated deep and low, his tone serious.

"I push you so hard because I want you to become the strongest."

"Why?"

"Uh, haha... do you want me to answer that as Satoru or as your teacher?"

"...? Huh? Hm... um... I want both versions of your answer."

"Well... as your teacher... I want you to be able to fight for future generations and pass on your skills."

"And... as Satoru...?"

He hesitated, then slowly answered;

"So I don't have to be the strongest all by myself."

He looked at you with a sheepish smile.

"Selfish, huh?"

"It's okay to be selfish to an extent. I hardly ever see you doing anything for yourself."

The crickets continued making louder symphonies.

"Sato— ahm, Gojo-sensei. I will try my best to fill the role you want me to fill. I don't want you to feel alone."

"... I know it's an overwhelming role, I don't really have the right to push this on y—"

"—I will do it for you because I love you."

"What?"

"What?"

"Respect, I meant respect!" you backtracked.

"Hahaha, sure."

"..."

"... love you too." he winked.

"Shut up!"

"What, I can't tell my favorite student that I love her back?!" he teased.

"Th-that's inappropriate, haha."

"But you just told your teacher you love him. That was also inappropriate."

"I— yeah! Well!"

He stared at you for a long, long moment, absorbing the weight of your I love you that lingered in the air between you and him.

"Alright. Let's wrap up practice for the night."

"Really! God... I thought you were gonna make me do the whole thing again out of spite for saying something inappropriate."

He winked, "No, I'll reprimand you tomorrow for that. Come on. We're going out."

"We're going out...? Are you taking me out as your favorite student, or are you taking me out as me?"

He smirked. "Both... I think my favorite student deserves a good reward after practicing so hard today, but I also just... want to selfishly take you out on a date."

Gojo spoiled you on this night out. Really spoiled you. Bought you a dress, put on his best suit ditched his blindfold, took you to one of the most expensive restaurants that he knew of. Indulged in your company not as his student, but as someone he wanted to get to know... someone maybe he was interested in.

He leaned over the table to fluster you with teasingly close proximity, and straightened out his tie because he was sorely aware of how attractive his hands looked when he did that.

"Go on, don't be shy. Tell me about yourself."

"But you already know me."

"I don't know enough." he shook his head.

"Well... I'm lost... I don't know where to start." you chuckled, staring down at your cleared plate of dessert. It was rich and sweet, he said it was his favorite.

"Then I'll ask." he looked at you, and leaned over the table with one elbow, resting his chin on the back of his palm. "What's your love life looking like at the moment?"

You let out a laugh at this, which he half-expected.

"Well, I'm on a date with my teacher..." you said, jokingly.

He chuckled.

"Tell me." he then said seriously, "I want to know."

"Well... my love life is pretty... unsaturated...?"

"Unsaturated...?" he raised a brow. "What do you mean by that?"

"Dull. I mean it's dull. Any time I develop romantic feelings for someone... well they drain out just as quickly as they flood in." you admitted.

He looked at you contemplatively.

"Is that so..."

"Ahah, you seem surprised."

"I am. I thought you'd have a more glamorous love life, like me." he joked.

"Oh? I'm all ears, Gojo-sensei."

He looked at you deeply, "Call me Satoru." he murmured under his breath.

Your heart panged.

"... anyways, uh... haha. Yeah... my glamorous love life... I've been on two dates in my life including this one."

"Just two?!"

He nodded. "The first one doesn't really count, because I was fourteen and it was a boyish crush."

"... so... this one counts...?"

"Well, yes." he said, "Of course it does. This is not a boyish crush, after all..."

You and him stared at each other for a long, tender moment. Got lost in each other's worlds, which were contained in those irises. Suddenly understood each other's deep feelings, revealed by those dilated pupils.

Dilated...?

Yes his pupils always dilated for you, but you never noticed before with that strip of black having concealed his eyes.

"Gojo—?"

"—Just call me Satoru already." he overlapped his hand with yours, both resting midway on the table.

"Why?" you asked. "Why do you want me to call you that?"

He hesitated, wondering if you were asking that rhetorically. The restaurant was dim, the environment slow and luxurious, fancy, expensive... heavenly golden hue, casting over you and him.

"... because I want to hear you calling out my name."

© arminsumi

Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.

Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

[haedalkoo]

Hiii! I was wondering if you could talk about the ramyeon convo hahaha, is it flirty or solely about ramyeon?

Thanks so much for your translations and comments 💜

hello !! catching up with all the previous episodes' asks is a little embarrasing bc omg this was so long ago but here we go.

Do I think Jikook flirt with each other like crazy (pun not intended)? Yes. They make things hard to watch. Please get a room guys ! Do I think the ITS 2 ramyeon comment was an innuendo? Oh, absolutely. GET A ROOM GUYS.

Do I think this conversation was? No, not really.

[Shields from the rain of tomatoes]

LISTEN the topic of jk not wanting to eat or regretting eating so much has been a constant. the man was in the middle of promoting Golden, and we know how the industry works. I think the english translation made it sound 'dirtier' than it actually was because words like eating or ones that surround the topic of food can be very sexual. But genuinely I think the whole 'let's shower and we'll see if we change our minds' or 'you don't have to do anything' is literally just. Them craving carbs after a physical activity (the pool makes anyone hungry, c'mon guys) and JK trying to get JM to sympathise with his situation as a Really Hungry Guy That Should Be On A Comeback Diet (and JM being like 'no im eating my ramen with or without u babe <3', just like JK when JM was fighting for his life on that boat and he went 'im def eating tho')

THIS IS JUST MY INTERPRETATION ! I'm aware of how sneaky our Jikook are and they loove to tease so it wouldn't surprise me that this, too, had a double meaning. I just don't see this time, but they flirt. oh if they flirt. MAYBE TOO MUCH !! (im kidding i love flirty koomin GODD I CANT WAIT FOR TOMORROW SAPPORO HERE WE GO)

[tsuki--sora]

helloo i was wondering if u have any tips on how to start learning how to draw?? i’m gonna try it for the nth time and force myself to not give up and since i absolutely LOVE ur art i was hoping you could help me?? thank you in advance and have a happy new year 🥰

omggg i just saw this :O!! i havent been around here so i didnt see :C but anyway!!! im not sure what advice or tips to give tbh so ill just share some things that helped me 🙇

knowing what im drawing (basically...using reference lol ) u might've seen this tip a lot but its true 😆 think of it as like... training wheels on a bike AHSAHSAHHA u use training wheels for some time until u can be good enough to ride a bike without them or something like that.... its the same with using reference. u have to know and get familiar with what an object looks like first before you're able to draw without it and with confidence. tbh i dont always do this bcos sometimes i just wanna mindlessly draw ykno 😔 and thats okay as well!!! just remember that reference is very helpful when u hit a dead end with ur artwork :D also learn from real life!! look around u! sometimes id stare at something and nod in understanding. ----------------------------------

draw what u love <33 honestly, i only got back into drawing when i went down the vtuber hole a few years ago LMAO i would draw vox akuma eveyday 🙂‍↕️ and then my love for one piece got revived so now i draw my favorite characters every chance i can get bcos its all i can think abt!!! its honestly a good motivator. ----------------------------------

accepting and learning from mistakes ive always struggled with perfectionism and that really took my enjoyment and love for creating🥹 and that also stopped me from experimenting and exploring coz id always think that it wont come out as i hoped it would. SOOOO for the past 2-3 years i think?? i make it a habit to STOP ✋ being super critical when i see or make a mistake. the perspective is wrong? noted. the anatomy looks wonky? okay!! i let them exist in my artworks bcos how would i even know where to improve in if i dont know what it is 😅 i also make sure to keep those errors in mind so i know what areas i should be working on. u can always correct them on ur next work!! and the next!! again and again!!! its never-ending! ure always improving, always learning. ---------------------------------

i also have a board of artworks and styles that i really really like and i look at them when i need inspiration hahaha sometimes u just have to scroll thru pinterest for hours and draw nothing lol

personally, i think one doesnt have to draw everyday to be good. i mean, you can if u want to! but u might burn out fast if u force urself to draw everyday. just.. pace yourself. remember to rest and be good to yourself as well :))

thats all i can think of right now. i feel like i could share more but im just not good with words or explaining things. forgive me 😔🙇 our experiences may differ and what helped me may not be of use to u,,, but i hope this can help u even juuuuust a bit :"D be proud of every piece u make. u worked hard on it after all <33

(also sharing my art throughout the years!)

[chemicalarospec]

tag game: 9 people you'd like to get to know better

thank you!! @pomegranates-and-onyx and @lowoliet!!! <3 I'm missed doing these tbh. I reordered the items so the sequence makes more sense xoxo

Favorite color: I usually say purple but I don't really feel that strongly

Relationship status: lmaoo I'm aro (greyro-ish?). I actually have long thought I would like to fake-date/date for fun, but just the other day went "I still haven't kissed anybody and I know plenty of ppl have a 1st older than me but tbh I don't think I ever will". Other than that, I've got a few friends I really like, a few friends I kinda don't, and some people in between. Solid nuclear family tho 👍

Currently consuming (eating, by the looks of the trend): Waiting on a response from a friend to see if her cookies (mint & chocolate) are tree nut-free. I hope I can eat them; they look great.

Last song: "Capital M-E" by Taking Back Sunday (I cheated a little b/c last night I listened to a bunch of random songs lol)

Current watching: Dan and Phil? Hbomb's latest video? theoretically, Death Note, Cunk on Earth, and Akira and Akira.

Last movie: Die Hard haha

Three ships: lawlight, tntduo … hm, Arthur/Eames from Inception is a favorited Ao3 tag I do regularly go back to

First ship: Not *too* sure either but I think it HAS to be Snowbaz b/c of the Fangirl -> Tumblr blog stalker thing & that book introducing me to fandom (whoops, that 'thing's not universal knowledge... after Fangirl I scoured Rainbow Rowell's blog which led me to gingerhaze.tumblr.com (he did the cover art) and b/c I couldn't read Nimona online I read his blog instead. b4 that I only went to youtube.com and minecraft.net) WAIT NO. I've always considered genderswapped Johnlock (SheJane) to be my first ship hahaha. (yes, it had to be genderswapped. reality was different back then)

Currently working on: sooo *twirls hair* there's these Hamlet scene analyses (plural)... that were due today.... also some Calc I think... my portfolio for a writing contest... Blind Justice Light Yagami drawing, if the motivation holds. And my Death Note fics I listed here :D

tagging @detective-horse-girl @l3mon-boy @cmstyles19 @sophaeros @i-could-bee-an-angel & seconding @drfurter well @novaliae I know you pretty well but you too of course :) no pressure to anybody if you'd rather not do it tho! & feel free to join in the fun and let me know u would like to foster mutual affection :D

[smilingangel582]

Helloooo!! I love your blog! If you have time, please consider writing a fic with lee Wriothesley and ler lyney! Hehehe...

I feel like with Wriothesley's beefy body, it'll be fun to see him squirming, and with Lyney's delicate fingers, he can slip his hands and be a skillful ler heheheh... Give lyney a chance for revenge hehe~ Thank you in advance! Please no foot tickles...

Heey, thanks a bunch... I'm glad u enjoy it... I'm still inexperienced, but I can write anything u anons desire, and pls forgive me if i missed any requests

Plus, we all love this Grizzly -ahem, I mean Wriothesley... I might make it a switch because he's a total ler type to me, hehe... but mostly a lee type... so let's give Lyney baby a chance.

Warning spoilers alert for fontaine

For others - anyone who's not into friendly tickles... you can skip this fic... thank you

A very sweet revenge

Lyney's appearance to Wriothesley's office is a magnificent improvement. Every since the day he somewhat tickled the poor magician into tears, the boy naturally seemed indulged tk visit him more.

Although Wriothesley is aware of Lyney's ulterior motives... and he can't say he's not thrilled as he is curious about how Lyney would approach revenge.

Day three.

Lyney seems to show a lot of magic tricks and then entertain Wriothesley a lot, even Aether stopped by to say hello to him. The more the merrier and now its Day four...

Will today be the day?

"Oh my, you have a knack for card tricks, Mr. Lyney"

"Well I learnt from the best and you do seem capable yourself for your first time"

Wriothesley smiled warmly "Well I too learned from the best"

Hmm, the taller man glances at Lyney, still not seeing the trump card -well not the actual card but the motive.

"Well then... oopse!" Lyney drops his card suddenly and then attempts to reach it from Wriothesley side of the desk and the latter offered to get it for him.

Now it was the time...

It started with an abrupt wriggling of fingers, tiny and delicate fingers on Wriothesley's sides, startled by the electrifying shock... he stumbled away nearing hitting his head on the desk.

Never did he expected him to start so confidently. But he did expect the attack someday just... not right now.

"M-mr Lyney?"

"Hm... what's wrong your grace?" Lyney teases now further attacking his sides. Wriothesley suddenly feels a bubbly sound escape from his lips. Neither of them expected that but Lyney recovered from that quicker than the beholder of that beautiful laughter.

It's masculine and deeper, unlike lyney's high-pitched squeals (A/n: but trust me, I'm moved by how Wriothesley can laugh so cutely and manly at the same time...)

"Wahahahait ohohohone sehehehehecond hahahaa"

"Is the great Duke a little ticklish? Funny I never thought about that" he could definitely see Wriothesly slowly curling away, but Lyney is definitely agile with his reflexes, mostly as a bow user who's quick in action and had to work hard to make up for his smaller frame.

Honestly Wriothesley wanted Lyney to have his fun but genuinely he's sensitive around his ribs and thst definitely weakened him. Barking out another laugh when Lyney dug firmly into his ribs, gently but intentionally.

"Oh yes, the ribs..."

"Ohohokaahay ihihi cahahan sehee yoohohou ahahare ehehenjoying thihjhjs buhuhut you cahahan lehet mehehe goho knowhow!"

Sighing, Lyney seems to be controlling all the strings here "Your grace seriously, this is revenge so... you must be able to grant this wish for me, right?"

Groaning low giggles, of course he started the war... now he must have a taste of his own medicine. If Wriothesley is serious about breaking free he would have minutes ago but not wanting hurt Lyney he resorted to resist more... or partly he's somewhat noticed that Lyney is partially in control.

"HAHAHA AHAHALRIGHT! THAHATS IT!"

At that moment, Lyney's world flipped, and the larger man is on top and felt large but gentle fingers bury under his armpits.

Lyney squeaks. "Ack! Haha, noho fahahir gehe! Wriothesley!!"

Still panting while he tickled the smaller guy, he chuckles "Don't forget I also know your weakness, dear prisoner... no one punishes the duke"

"Wehehell thahahats conveniehehent! Ihihi wihihill dohoho whahahat ihihi wahahahant thank yohohou vehehery muhuhuch!" Lyney giggles and squirms but also reaching to tickle Wriothesley's ribs but instead reaching for his hips that sent the man suddenly bucking "What the???"

"Ah... that must be the... spot" breathing heavily Lyney begins to get his hips and Wriothesley feels the unbearable than his ribs, of course he may not process a lot of ticklishness like Lyney but he got a spot of two thst can drive him nuts.

"Ahaa alright trucehehe thehe teas gehehtting cohohold..."

Lyney stops now, his face flushed red, as similar as Wriothesley's and they both looked different from the position on the ground. Sighing now, Wriothesley gets up first helping Lyney, "Well I suppose you won this round..."

Breathing harder "Well... yh, uhu... I did... never... underestimate a magician"

Finishing his tea now, Wriothesly begins, "I dis expect your revenge, but the time was what had me on edge... I didn't expect that, at least..."

Lyney giggling "I'm glad I managed to take you down a peg... who knows maybe I can be the Duke next"

Frowning playfully, Wriothesly says, "Careful what you say, Mr. Lyney, I won't be letting go of this job any sooner..."

"Says the guy who called a truce for a little tickling." Lyney sticks his tongue, and that makes Wriothesley stand up, smirking. "Let me remind you... we can go for another round and clarify"

Lyney who hasn't been paying attention to his surroundings smirks as he looks away proudly "Please you gave up first I -eek! Hehehey!"

Lyney felt a pair of fingers grab his ribs and Wriothesley smirks "You were saying dear Mr. Lyney?"

Of course if it had been planned to tickle fight nkw, Lyneh might have snuck a few tickles like last time but he was caught off guard by the Dukes mischief directly close to his worst spot.

"So who's calling for a truce now huh?"

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything"

The curt voice of Chlorinde makes them both breakaway instantly. Lyney gets up and then chirps in his squeaky voice "pardon moi... ma cherie!" He leaves and Wriothesley remains there with her, slightly uneasy to have her find this situation.

Its incredible how she ignored it and said "Mind if we have some tea...?"

"Why sure dear Ms. Chlorind, with pleasure. " he chuckles now, finally starting his second tea part of the day, still remembering Lyney's sweet blush, similar to last time. But now he finds appeal in a teasing lyney as well...

[iluvchanniesposts]

hello i am a big fan of urs for a while and i luv ur work. ur an amazing person and u have a golden personality! can I request lee Chan ler Minho pls? thank u and I hope u have a great day 💗⭐️💖

“tickle him, it always works.” seungmin implied simply as he shoved a piece of bread in his mouth. the look minho gave him could’ve lit a fire with the way he raised his brow. “hm?” lee know tilted his head to the side, humming at the new piece of information he just found out.

“tickle him..why do you know this?” he began to question the second youngest, edging closer as he became truly intrigued to the fact. “i usually do it back to him when he does it to me, always seems to work. he’s sensitive on his ribs and stomach area.” seungmin shrugged, once again casting his attention back to whatever else he was doing.

its like a lightbulb popped above minho’s head.

“chan hyung?” he yelled from the living room, stomping his way up the stairs to let his presence be known. yet again, no answer. for some reason, chan had been avoiding minho over something silly that happened at practice earlier on. he knocked a few times on the door before entering…

“you’re still giving me the silent treatment?” he went over and sat next to chan, who was propped up against his bed frame on his laptop. no answer. minho huffed and slammed chan’s laptop shut, finally earning a shocked look from him.

“oh, so now you want to pay me attention?” he removed the laptop from chan’s lap, replacing it with himself. the oldest still didn’t let up, yet simply followed minho’s every move with his pupils.

poke.

chan jolted away from minho’s fingers, a tiny smile creeping upon his cheeks as he realised what was about to happen.

poke poke.

he stifled a snigger, giving minho access to pin his arms down under his knees.

“you still don’t wanna talk?” lee know interrogated him, resting his clawed hands above chan’s ribs, making him wince at the anticipation. “ok, have it the hard way.” and with that, his hands started grabbing and squeezing all over chan’s sides.

chan threw his head back, pursed his lips and strained so much that the veins were popping out of his neck. his stubbornness was telling him not to laugh.

minho’s fingers moved at the speed of light, going for his rib cage, to his upper ribs, to his stomach and all over his sides. chan couldn’t hold much longer, face as red as a tomato.

“HAHAHA OKAY!” he yelled, thrashing around under minho as much as he could.

his throaty laughs grew louder as minho wiggled his fingers below chan’s belly button and all over his v line area.

“MINH-MINHO! STOP!” he belted, struggling to catch his breath from laughing.

“will you talk to me now?” minho asked, not ceasing his attack on chan’s ribs. “Y-YES!” he choked out, somehow managing to breathe properly as soon as minho let up.

“good. other wise it’ll be worse next time.” he added a few more pokes before getting off and heading back downstairs.

“i’ll get you back for that!” chan yelled, quickly hiding under the duvet as minho turned around with a cocked brow.

[headkiss]

Hiii, could I request a Steve x Female reader inspired by the Little women, specifically the dynamic between Amy and Laurie. Reader is Nancys sister (feels second to her, like Jo and Amy) and got close with Steve when working with him at scoops ahoy, he confesses his feeling when they’re captured by the Russians but it doesn’t go well but plz make it a happy ending cos I need it hahaha ♥️♥️♥️ thank u!!

hiiii i love little women and i hope this is somewhat what u wanted!!! | 0.9k words, wheeler!reader, fluff :D

When Steve was with Nancy, you convinced yourself you didn’t like him, that you simply had to deal with his presence.

He was always kind to you, making small talk whenever he could, flashing you warm smiles. You weren’t used to him even looking your way, let alone talk to you, and then he was in your house.

Maybe it was the unusualness of interacting with him that put you off. Or—as you’d figure out later—maybe it was the underlying jealousy that he liked Nancy in a way he’d never like you.

Then, they broke up, and he was gone. You found out what happened, and you reached out to Steve, letting him know that you were there if he needed. That’s when you first realized you’d been lying to yourself all along; you didn’t dislike him at all.

You eventually started working with him and Robin at Scoops Ahoy, and he became your best friend. And you, his.

It got harder and harder to push your feelings for him away, to act like all you saw him as was a friend.

Then, the Upside Down invaded your lives again, and this time, you were dragged in. Russian codes, trying to crawl through vents, a secret elevator. All leading up to now, being trapped in said secret elevator. You had enough time in the room to process the fact that you might not get out, and as everyone else slept, you stayed wide awake.

You thought everyone was asleep, at least.

Steve was awake, looking at you through squinted eyes so that you wouldn’t notice. His stomach was in knots; he felt awful for involving you in this mess. You who, against all odds, stuck by him even when your sister didn’t. You who he’d grown to love, over time.

It was hard for him to accept at first, that he fell for none other than his ex’s sister. But, he couldn’t ignore it for long. What with the way you looked at him without an ounce of judgment.

You bury your face in your hands, lean your head against the wall behind you. Steve decides to get up and sit next to you. He nudges you with his shoulder, making you look over at him.

“Can’t sleep?” He asks.

“Can’t imagine why. It’s not like we’re doomed, or anything,” your sarcasm is familiar enough to make him smile.

“I’ll get us out of here, honey. I swear.”

“Yeah, I know you will.”

Though you don’t actually know anything about how or when you’ll get out, you do know that he’s going to do everything he can to keep you safe. You’ve never had to doubt that.

“What are you thinking about?”

He can tell when your mind is full, when your thoughts get a little too loud. He’s learned to know you better than he knows anyone else and sometimes it drives him nuts. All he wants to do is hold you, kiss it all away. But, he can’t.

He asks a loaded question, you think. Because, what aren’t you thinking about right now? You’re thinking about your family, what the last thing you said to them was. Thinking about the other people trapped along with you and how much you wish they weren’t here, only so that they were safe, You’re thinking about Steve, about all the things you might never say.

“Just, um, about what might happen if we die.”

“We’re not dying,” he faces you, makes sure you’re looking at him when he repeats, more sure, “we are not dying, you hear me?”

“Yeah. I know, I’m just scared.”

This time, he lets himself reach out. He takes your hand, laces your fingers together.

“Me too.”

His eyes are searching your face, roaming over every detail. The color of your eyes, the way your lashes frame them, the slope of your nose. Then, he thinks, if he does die, he doesn’t want it to be before he gets to tell you how he feels.

“Can I tell you something?”

“‘Course you can, Steve.”

“It’s gonna sound kinda crazy,” you squeeze his hand, a silent reassurance. “But, just hear me out.”

He clears his throat, clearly nervous. Your voices stay hushed, never loud enough to wake anyone, only to hear each other. It’s your turn to look him over, the way his throat bobs when he swallows, the hair that falls over his forehead.

“‘M not judging you, promise.”

“No, I know. Um. So, when we met, I barely even knew you. But now, everything’s different. You’re my favorite person, like, ever, and I don’t want you to feel like things have to change after this, but I love you,” your world halts, it’s just him. “I’m in love with you.”

“You’re lying,” you want to believe him so badly, but it’s hard not to feel like he only wants you because he can’t have Nancy.

“I’m not. Look at me,” he uses the hand that isn’t holding yours to cradle your face, thumb sliding over your cheek. “I know how it seems, and that the only reason we know each other is ‘cause I was with Nancy, but this is real. I do love you, and I’ll do whatever I can to prove that.”

You kiss him, quick and sweet, but the way he melts into you is enough to let you know he’s being completely honest. You lean your forehead on his.

“Steve?”

“Yeah, honey?”

“I love you, too.”

At least, if this is your last day alive, you were able to have been loved by Steve Harrington, and to love him back.

[daifukumochiin]

Writers ask!

1. Start to finish, how long did it take to plan and write? Did you take breaks during the process?

6. How did you decide what tense and POV(s) to use?

18. Talk about your editing and revision process

26. Share your favorite detail

Since no one is curious about any particular fic, I'll just answer in a general sense, Lav 🥲 I'll address it to everyone who'd come across this post. 1. How long does it take me to plan and write a story? Do I take breaks during the process? > I don't have stellar records. So far, out of nine that I uploaded on ffnet, I have two completed one shots (one of those, I promised I'd write a part two, but I'm not interested in it anymore), a completed short multi-chapter fic, a microfic anthology, and then all the rest are WIPs. I've been DM for 7-8 years now... That's how long it is to plan my most read fic xD Technically, it is complete, but I promised some extra chapters and I could just never get it done. I'm answering in a roundabout way because I'm not as organized as Lav when planning and writing my fics. I don't keep records, I mostly go by feeling. However, if I do put my mind into it, I guess I could be the type to set a deadline and get it done. Though it's not a guarantee that I'd get the response that I hope for, and that makes me feel gutted. So, in my case, after getting familiar with my writer self through all these years, I need to believe in the importance of a fic more than anyone so that no matter the response and readership, I'd never stop until it's complete. How long does it take me to plan and write a story? Until the will to do it takes me through its completion, that's my answer. Do I take breaks? Hahaha! It's breaks that need to be taken from me.

2. How do I decide what tense and POV(s) to use? > Past. Third person limited POV. Those are my default. I don't think much about it. 3. Talk about your editing and revision process. > Even after I finish uploading a fic, I'll always end up finding errors here and there. I don't have a perfect chapter unlike PianoCoat. When I see an error in PianoCoat's chapter, I'm like, "whoa, that's rare." I edit for as long as I see mistakes, and for as long as I wanted to check for mistakes. I used to be more prudent with this, especially with my first fic, but recently, I don't have much time anymore, and you know, that's fine. I run it through Grammarly-sensei and even after then, I'd still catch some errors. Fresh eyes? Don't know her. Maybe give it five to ten years, then I'd truly have fresh eyes. Not the day after. Fresh eyes I tell you, isn't necessarily a good thing. Your past self's treasure could turn into your future self's cringe. My verdict: I edit and revise, but I'm not the best person for it.

4. Share your favorite detail. > 🤔... This took long for me to think about to be honest. I think I've already told everyone in the SasuHina Month discord about things I liked that I felt those are old things that aren't necessarily very true for current me anymore. I'm thinking maybe something from my most recent works. Is 2022 recent? Doesn't matter, let me tell you about it, 'cause I haven't told this to someone yet. I liked how my story for SH Month 2022 Day 3: Dépaysement took everyone on a journey where they didn't know how it would turn out. That's my favorite part about it. People knew it was a SasuHina story, but they weren’t able to predict the ending because the experience of the journey had immersed them. Also, I liked that Hinata had a hard time with the goats. That part was semi-autobiographical🤣

Thanks for checking out my stuff😽💞🙌 If you haven't yet and are interested, here are links for you:

AO3 https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daifuku_Mochiin/works

FFnet https://www.fanfiction.net/u/9526245/Daifuku-Mochiin

[arthenaa]

college! graphic design artist! seb x fem! reader sneak peek (inspired by true events HAHAHA i projected me and my gfs experience on this)

an: might turn into a fic !! a mix of socmed au and writing. if ever i dont turn it into a fic, ill be uploading a completed ver soon of this whole meow meow. for now enjoy!

It was supposed to be a time for discussion. Thesis work was what you exactly hoped for; a pain in the fucking ass. It was mostly expected that you'd already have a planned group before the semester started as it was a course that would last for 3 whole semesters.

That meant you'd be spending a whole school year (basically) with that group of people.

Alas, your introverted self only relied on randomized groupings and you only had a very very small social group that had different schedules from yours. You were doomed and panicking.

Luckily with the help of your professor, whom you had discreetly approached with your problem after seeing that other groups had already filled in their required numbers— had placed you in a group of four who had still yet to find a 5th member. You were thankful, yes, however, the present predicament had proved to be quite troublesome for your performance on your first meeting.

Three of your groupmates were absent. Three.

You think it might be alright to work as a pair for now considering that one was out of town, one had org duties and the other was not feeling well but the anxiety of being in a new setting with new people wasn't really doing good for you right now.

You had to depend on this man for a short presentation due in like 2 hours and you were both doing nothing.

You look down at your notes, scribbles of possible topic ideas written haphazardly across the sheet of paper. Your eyes then flicker back onto the man sitting adjacent to your seat.

You forgot his name but his face was hard to miss. You first saw a glimpse of him hosting one of the school's functions and had a great relationship with most of your professors. He was a popular kid but a good one based on your assessment of character.

He was slouched on his seat, legs stretched out on the floor and crossed over one another. He lets out a yawn as he rests his cheek on his arm propped up on the armchair while his eyes never seemed to leave the screen of his Macbook.

He seems to be busy typing several things which made you slightly feel scared that he might've been doing things by himself and forgetting your presence.

This is obviously something you're entirely assuming as he looks up from his laptop and locks eyes with yours.

You immediately look down at your notebook and begin busying yourself with the tassels of your bookmark. A flush spreads across your cheeks at being caught staring.

How could you not stare? He was known to be friendly and someone you saw often due to his reputation and connections with various school organizations. He had an overall approachable personality and was practically an attention magnet.

And also because he was .... cute.

College life wasn't exactly as much fun as your older friends used to say. It was a nightmare and an obligation you had to begrudgingly attend to. Uni days consisted of you just trying to survive throughout the week so it's safe to say your love life was as dry as the fucking desert. It was super rare to see a guy this cute in your field.

You allow yourself to scan his fit for today. How could he make an outfit as mundane as a green sweater and jeans look so ... good? The rings adorning his fingers and the black strapped watch on his wrist added to the charm and you could only will yourself to not stare even further as you'd probably be deemed as a creep by this poor young guy.

"Hey," His voice snaps you from your reverie causing you to flinch in your seat. Your look up at him in surprise as he leans forward to catch your gaze. "Y/N Y/L/N, right?"

"U-Uh yeah?" You answer timidly, fiddling with the bracelet adorning your wrist. He smiles at your answer before responding.

"Um so, I've thought of a few topics right now. Can I share them with you?" He asks softly, aware of the quiet working ambiance of the room. You nod at his offer, body positioned to listen to his proposals.

However, he only stares at you as if he's expecting you to do something else. There's a moment of silence that leaves you confused and unsure if you did or said anything wrong. It doesn't take long before you began spiraling down in a chaotic mess of overthinking. You would expect him to tell you his intentions but you certainly didn't expect what he'd do next.

"Um uh, apologies in advance—" He smiles sheepishly as if to warn you of an incoming danger. You tilt your head in confusion before watching him as he leans down, arm grabbing the underside of your chair before effortlessly pulling you close to his side. The chair glides against the floor (thankfully it had guards on its legs so the noise wasn't all that ear screeching) and you yelped in surprise at the sudden movement, gripping your armchair in the process.

It seems to have caught your professor's attention and Sebastian only sends an apologetic smile for disrupting the silence. You turn to him with wide eyes.

"I — What?"

"Sorry. I was expecting you to move but you looked like you were about to have an aneurysm or something." He chuckles as a flush spreads across your cheeks. You huff out in embarrassment before directing your eyes toward the screen.

He starts off like the previous events didn't happen. It was kind of embarrassing for you to see him so nonchalant as if he didn't just fucking drag you by one arm. He lists off his ideas to which you nod in response. Up close, you could smell the scent of his cologne and the warmth emanating from his body. He had such a huggable physique and the scent only lulled you even further to your urges.

You begin to relay your ideas as well, stumbling and stuttering over your words but he only listens patiently. Taking in your ideas and even noting them in his document.

You felt oddly touched. He heaves a sigh of accomplishment as he scans over your topics and plans of presentation. There was about an hour left before the teacher would began calling names.

"Yeah. This is good. We can present this later." He seems impressed by your ideas and makes some edits before slightly bending down the screen of his laptop.

You shuffle in your seat, unnerved by the incoming silence that would again remind you of your troubles with social interactions. He, however, turns towards you much to your surprise. A pleasant smile is plastered on his lips. You're granted by a nice view of his face as the sunlight from the window lightly hits the back of his head, creating a halo of some sort.

Dear Gods. What are you implying by this.

Wait— What the fuck. Does he have a fucking dimple?

"Quite busy aren't we?" He asks, leaning back on the chair with his head turned towards yours. In your peripheral vision, you see his leg moving from side to side as he twirls his pen on one hand. "You seem to always have a lot of things to stay and yet, nothing."

"S-Sorry." You mumble, tucking a hair behind your ear. "I'm not good with..." You motion to the space between the two of you. "This."

"Ah." He nods in understanding. "It's alright. Although, I do want to say that I don't bite. So you can freely speak your mind here."

He flashes you a boyish grin that does wonders to your heart. You watch him run a hand through his curls.

"Do you even know who I am?" He raises his eyebrows expectantly before backtracking. "Well, to be fair I didn't introduce myself and I'm acting like a fucking bigshot or something. Not my intention at all!"

He raises his arms in defense, chuckling at his response. You smile softly at him.

"I-I know who you are," You reply. "It's just the name I'm having a hard time remembering."

"Oh?" He sits up. You feel his knee hit yours and you will yourself not to flinch as your body slightly tenses at the touch. "Well in that case. I'm Sebastian Sallow. ID 121."

"Ah, yeah," Your face lights up in recognition. "Yeah, I remember now— Sorry, I'm just really bad with names."

"It's alright." He shakes his head lightheartedly. "There's a lot of people in campus so I also have a hard time remembering as well."

Your hands fiddle with each other as you glance up at him. He still has his eyes locked on yours and you can't help but avoid his unwavering stare.

"... I also know who you are." He cuts the silence once more. You turn your attention back at him in surprise. You would call yourself delusional right now but with the way he's smiling at you, you can't help but assume he's being bashful for recognizing you.

You? Recognizable? As far as you were concerned, you were practically invisible to the public eye. Just an art student surviving on her own.

"Huh?"

"Um, we were classmates before actually," His grin is wide but uneasy. Like he's uncertain if saying this would ease the gap between the two of you. "On one of our graphic design courses? It was with Professor Garlick, if I recall correctly."

Oh?

"That 6 pm class back in the first semester?" You lean towards him, intrigued. He seems shocked at your sudden interest.

"Yeah. Miss loved your output and made a whole lecture about it." He recalls. You remember her praises about your final output. Gods. He was in that class? "Made a mark in my head for sure."

"That's embarassing." You whine in protest, palms against your face. He smiles in response.

"It was rather eye opening you know? A revolutionary moment for artists—"

"Stop please." You hold your hand out to stop him from further pulling you in a spiral downward to madness. He only smiles wider.

"For what it's worth, it was well-deserved to be praised and discussed for an hour and a half." He quips, teeth showing as he grins at your exasperated face.

"Has your friends ever told you you're quite insufferable?" You raise an eyebrow at him. Your voice holds a tone of teasing. He laughs in response.

"Don't remind me." He rolls his eyes, smile still beaming on his lips. "Besides, I was just merely telling the truth."

"Aha, right. Whatever makes you happy." You gently nudge his shoulder with the back of your hand. It was supposed to be a small innocent touch but with the way his smile fell and his eyes that immediately followed the motion of your hand, you could tell that there was something else going on in his head.

Before you could question it, he immediately recovers.

"Well, I still have three semesters to win you over." He sighs, dreamily. "I think that's a win."

"You mean a nightmare." You snort in reply. He laughs.

Your eyes glance at his crinkled eyes and face riddled with laughing lines as laughter bursts out of his lips. His laugh is melodic and something you could probably never get tired of hearing.

Your eyes widen at your thoughts. That was only a mere observation. Anyone sitting within a meter from him would also say the same.

Yes. yes. That's right.

"You're drifting again." He sits up and its the sudden feeling of his thigh against yours that snaps you back to reality. You gulp at the sudden add of touch and you expect him to move it away but he stays there. You huff out a shaky breath. "It almost looked like you were shitting yourself."

"Gods," You furrow your eyebrows at his words. He chuckles. "You're insufferable."

"That's one." He clicks his tongue under the roof of his mouth. You roll your eyes at his antics. There's a moment of silence before his voice slices through it once again. "Have you... Have you ever thought about what I said?"

"Which one?" You ask nonchalantly, fingers flicking through your notes. You pen taps on the paper as you await his answer.

"The one where I said I'm as bad as you with names." He speaks with a calm demeanor but his voice is hushed as if his words are reserved for you. You can't help but give him you're undivided attention.

"Um," You pause. "No not really?"

His eyes dart toward you in the corner of his eye before smiling that familiar boyish grin.

"I like to make exceptions." He vaguely says. You furrow your eyebrows, head tilting in confusion.

"Huh?"

"I already said I know you, Y/N." He chuckles. You feel butterflies roaming in your stomach albeit confused at his insinuation.

Before you could ask him what the fuck he meant by that, the professor calls out your group. Sebastian walks to the front with no hesitance and began setting up the presentation.

Just as you watch him work, the realization sets in. Heat immediately flushes your cheeks.

No fucking way.

You stand up on shaky legs before you walk to the front. Your eyes never leave him as you stand beside his figure. You were nervous, yes, but it also had something to do with the vague motherfucker beside you.

You were about to threaten him to tell you what, how, or why but as you lock eyes with the man beside you, he sends an adorable smile and small pat on your back.

Your face stiffens and you could only will yourself to forcefully stand beside him and await your turn on the presentation.

But there was one thing you deduced from all of this.

Sebastian Sallow from ID 121 is doing things to your poor little heart.

a/n: projecting myself on seb when i tried to flirt w my gf. might contain grammatical errors lmfao im so sorry IM FALLING ASLEEP AS I CURRENTLY TYPE THIS.

[alphabetboyluvr]

hiii holly! i hope november's treating you kindly so far!

i wanted to ask whether you have any advice for writers that are just starting to publish. literally any modicum would be greatly appreciated.

it's really hard to assess whether one's writing is any good when literally no one ever reads it :( at the same time, I know I should write for myself first and foremost. can't help but want to be held accountable by the possibility of an audience, tho (maybe that's just my brain chemistry??) I fall into the pit of thinking "if no one's reading it, why am I even writing? I can daydream indefinitely and be satisfied. Why write?" Yet I always come back to writing; it's something magnetic.

it's not the same to ask close friends to read ur stuff bc they are ur friends, and may not give you the sincerity ur looking for so as to not discomfort u. conversely, they might not be interested enough so as to pick up on the fine details.

f/u question: how do you deal with publishing your work on the internet for free? does it ever scare you that strangers could copy and republish ur work without your knowing?

I guess that's one of my main apprehensions about posting loyally on writing platforms. I'm scared I'll write something I'm very proud of and have it plagiarized and not be able to track it back as my original property??

anyways, enough of my self-exposing on your q and a's feeling v vulnerable sharing my doubts so openly lol

thank youuuu :) ly <3

hiyaaa!! it's getting chilly, i won't lie, but other than that November has been pretty typical. likewise, i hope it's treating you well too!

honestly the fact you casually drop words like modicum probably suggests you're a paygrade above me in terms of writing hahaha

my answer is a long (srsly i just kept on going lmao) ramble, so I'll put a read more here haha

i've many lovely friends who i absolutely adore that I've met through writing that are now irls, but none of my friends that i know independently outside of writing have ever read my stuff - I've even got irl friends who are deep in the ao3 trenches, who are paying for other tannie writers' patreons, but we have an unspoken rule that my work is not to be read by them. i just don't let my friends read my work, full stop, so i get that sentiment.

the thing is, humans are naturally inclined to be storytellers - it's been that way for thousands of years. our tales are meant to be told. sharing is just a very human thing for us to do.

I've been publishing on wattpad (within the tannie space) for 4 years, now. readers didn't appear overnight - i actually recently found a screenshot of you up? from march 2021. it had 28 parts, 2.03k reads and 313 votes.

it now sits at 62 parts, 1.45million reads and 55k votes.

that's a little bit perspective for you, i guess - i'd written half of an entire novel that was averaging around 70 reads per chapter, but i loved that world, and i had story to tell, so i told it. some people viscerally hated it, some loved it. i was writing for me, and the numbers prove that. if you worry about the numbers, you'll never satisfied.

similarly, comparison is the thief of joy, or so they say.

comparing yourself to other writers is never healthy. there are far more 'successful' authors on wp in terms of reads, but i genuinely mean it when i say i think i have the most fulfilling and rewarding space on tannie wp because my readers are so unbelievably lovely. i wouldn't trade my current readership for bigger numbers, not a chance.

in terms of plagarism, there are 170,000 words in current use within the english language, and 36 plot types. we've exhausted a lot of them, already. overlap and similarities are bound to occur, so i try not get fixated on it.

take cv for example - i was so gassed up with myself when coining the terms mono and multi, only to find out after i'd finished writing the story that there was a drama with a similar concept that also used the term mono for a similar condition that aired after i'd already started writing cv. overlap happens.

similarly, we're a product of the media we consume. endeavour is my favourite word, because it was in a song i liked when i was a teenager and it stuck with me. i use it all the time, and we can trace it back to the pen of alex gaskarth lmao.

I've seen readers of mine publish work that's been heavily inspired by my work - with and without 'permission' - and i just sort of shrug my shoulders whenever i notice it.

the way i see it, we'll never tell the exact same story. likewise, no two readers will ever read identical texts the same way. i encourage creativity, and know how important it is for me to empty my brain, so I'll never go for someone's throat for doing the same. that's how myths were born, right? people telling and retelling the same stories over and over again? how am i gonna write a romeo & juliet x greek mythology inspired fic and then get annoyed for someone taking inspo from me?

just like the way hair will always grow back after a terrible cut, new words can always be written after a disappointing discovery. idk, i just don't take it very seriously, i guess.

as for whether or not your writing is any good - it's totally subjective. there are people who have explicitly, publicly stated their disdain for my writing. I've had cruel opinions about my writing projected and amplified to large followings. and it sucks.

but there are people who have been exceptionally kind about my writing, too. i get some of the loveliest messages in the world. there are tiktoks with hundreds of comments of just unadulterated loveliness directed towards my work. I'm afforded so much grace and love that it can be overwhelming at times.

not everything is for everyone, and that's okay. you can't let yourself get hung up on pleasing everyone.

the one thing i will say, is that if you're seriously concerned about your IP, write original characters, and use wattpad as your platform. i know they have a reputation, but they give a shit about copyright infringement and the second someone gets reported for plagiarism, they'll investigate it, and take down the story.

no reward without risk - you gotta decide if the risk of plagiarism is worth the reward of sharing your work.

and plus, ai is taking over anyways. may aswell write while we still can lol.

so i guess tl;dr - don't let outside influence impact your internal need to create. the right readers will find your work eventually, but it's not an overnight miracle kinda thing. if i stopped writing just because i didn't see results in my stats, then i would have stopped after kumiho, and we'd have never gotten throttle, or bd, or anything else of mine you might have read.

do it because you love it, and it fulfils you. i love the communities built around my stories, and that's why i share them. writing without sharing doesn't fulfil me in the same way.

okay i've really rambled too much so i'll leave it here, but i hope that helps a little!!! or at least has given you insight into my brain!!!!!!

luv u byeeeeeee

[mostlymaudlin]

🦋 and 💌? :)

thank u for asking!!!

🦋 Which character is your favorite to write?

surprising to no one, Andrew :’) he is my special boy… i just loooooove to play with the layered complexity of him. also besides my affection for him as a character himself he is HARD to write, which I really appreciate. writing him forces me to skimp on my own indulgences because he is such a reticent person despite the big feelings he’s harboring, and i think that brings out the best in my writing!!!

💌 Is there a favorite trope you like to write?

hahaha this also explains why I like writing Andrew — I don’t know if this trope has a name? But I’m really interested in the way we warp reality in our heads, and the problems that it can cause. I think we could classify it as “miscommunication” trope, but the actual act of miscommunication is not what intrigues me. I just like to explore how humans can create a whole story’s worth of context just by letting a dysfunctional thought get out of control. this obviously leads to miscommunication in that this person is now acting on a false reality, and now this OTHER person who doesn’t understand is going to make their own false reality because we’re all vulnerable creatures with insecurities we can’t help…. And then there’s so much catharsis when characters choose to do the hard work of understanding their loved ones and helping each other get past all that/feel more safe & secure. It’s really fun to work w these themes with Andrew bc his sense of identity/self-worth are so wrapped up in his utility to others through deals etc, and there’s so many opportunities for him to be misunderstood by others!!! and then there’s the way he embraces the reasons people misunderstand/dislike him as ARMOR, and the way being understood&loved becomes a threat to his coping mechanisms in a way… like oh nooooooo if i admit i do want you to know me then it’s harder to deny all the other things I yearn for…. WHOOF !!!

Tldr miscommunication, I guess 😂

[whitevelvet-ly]

omg i'll write a prompt for u if u want tho !! just tell me what character nd all that jazz, and i'll do my best 😋

220115 prompt yay !! (modern au ish)

notes: got inspo from opm songs nd a extremely old prompt lololol +his name is current time is scaramouche, his name in his past life/dream is kunikuzushi.

summary: scaramouche sees someone eerily similar to him in a dream — too similar to himself, now trying to figure out if the place in his dream was real and if he could find records of the people in his dream and find "you" as these dreams continue on.

soft lights and a figure holding his two hands, "kunikuzushi" enjoys a roller-skating date with his lover. he hears the excitement of his lover as they skate in the rink slowly, as his lover helps him to get the hang of it.

"hey-, hey calm down. let me guide you, alright? i'll help you, my love."

"ehm.. maybe i should just watch you. i don't think you'd enjoy our limited time teaching me."

"why'd you think that? don't you see the smile on my face whenever i'm holding your hand, or helping you with something or... uhm,-"

"if you really, really wanna teach me to roller-skate, let's pick up on what you just taught me earlier okay?"

...

as kunikuzushi and his lover spend their time together until they have to leave, scaramouche observes the inside of the roller-skating rink with his limited sight.

the two lovers leave seperately, going to their own cars and driving away.

....

cliffhanger because as much as this is a good idea i am not ready to be a full-on au writer 👍 (context again, i used to write aus back in 2021 !! i quit tho lol) /opm anon

ofcc !!!!!! I'll ask for a prompt sometime when my writing motivation is low 😁😁

once again anorher adorable work from dearest opm anon 😌 rollerskating with scara definitely sounds fun

I never got to the point where we get to name kuni yet so HAHAHA but luckilyyy I finally started the sumeru archon quest !!! I met collei and tighnari and what 😡😡 they're so cute 😡😡😡

and that's fair writing is hard as heck especially for someone who can't manage their time properly not me hahaha ha ha,,,, ha /j

anyway !!!! thank you for this wonderful masterpeiece you have fed me daydream material

[baconcolacan]

Hi! First off, I hope you are doing well ^u^

Thank you for the Kings Crossing sequel, it was well written as always and got me thinking about these two’s dynamic a bit more. Specifically considering the scene where they discussed the “what ifs” (I’m leaving it ambiguous so people have to read your amazing work).

In addition to that pondering, I understand you have another version of these two where they are in love and have a son.

So, if you don’t mind me asking, I am curious how you would approach this dynamic from an alpha/beta/omega perspective.

How would an alpha Tord and omega Tom work in your eyes? (I’m assuming Tord is an alpha because of his possessive nature and the fact you always write him as a top)

Thank you for your time and I’m highly intrigued in your response. Regardless of what you do, have a good day and keep up the great work!

Ooooh, abo, hmmm yeah I'm familiar with this fanfic trope. Though back then it was just called mpreg. Tbh, I dunno where this trope came from actually, it just started popping up?? Hmmm.

I'll be talking about this trope below the line, so avert your eyes if you do not like this for any reason, AND since this trope deals with some more sexual subjects, just to be safe, I'm begging that minors do not read below the line please. Thanks!

First off! Hey thank you anon! ^^ I'm really glad you like the sequel to KC! I'm actually thinking about expanding on that universe a bit more, as the way I present the world and how I write about it is actually somewhat experimental! KC's writing style is wildly different from my usual forms! So I'm happy to know that it's liked!

Now on to the ABOtopic!

Okay so, personally, I actually find this trope a bit curious, and somewhat interesting?? I'm aware that this trope sort of caters to a more animalistic type of horny writing (haha) which I can somewhat understand! I'm a pretty vanilla guy when it comes to sexuality, but being a repressed catholic, I can get why people are into some wild and hard kinky sex.

(especially considering my status as an asexual- although sex-favorable- man. Wanna know a secret?? I have SO MUCH TROUBLE writing smut. KC is something of a hard labor, as it deals with Tom and Tord's relationship with each other in a lot of ways especially in the sexual sense where most inhibitions are down, and passion is present in its purest form. Which I honestly, honestly, struggle to portray as my interest in sex is so so LOW, BUT I understand the feelings behind the physical act at least.)

ABO as I understand it, and from what I've seen personally, is a bit more geared towards porn for porn's sake, and caters to specific kinks like soul-bonding, animalistic sex and tendencies, breeding, and pregnancy. I also understand that it's somewhat fetish-y (?) but I won't talk about that for now.

Considering what I said above (with my perspective as an ace dude), I may approach this trope differently, as from where I stand, this trope feels like it could be very very intense when it comes to feelings and passion, which I tend to enjoy a lot when I engage with literature, sexual or otherwise. As well as the added soul-bond aspect, or rather, 'fated mate'/'perfect mate' part as who doesn't love soulmates?? Hahaha, coupled with some really cute animalistic behaviors.

So lets see, if I made use of this trope, first off, I think in a world like this, majority of people would be intersex, not like how intersex works in our world at least where one part is more developed than the other, but both are working I guess? To me that makes sense at least, considering the biologies present.

So, I suppose the one thing that would divide the secondary genders is just which parts are more virile/fertile. So Alphas are more virile, Betas are a perfect and balanced combo of both, and Omegas are more fertile.

Personally, I would have tagged Tom as a Beta while Tord is an Alpha but! Since you asked how I'd write Tom as an Omega I'll go with that!

If you've seen my writings with the two, my most favourable interpretations of them actually reside in the Stay AU, so I'll go off those characteristics as a base!

Omega Tom I think would be very coy, he's aware of how he attracts Alphas and Betas, even fellow Omegas. He'd be the type to bat his eyes and let his touches linger, but it's mostly a ruse to get something he wants. In reality, he doesn't have a lot of interest in romantic relationships in general.

Alpha Tord, I would still characterise him as this idiot with a lot of puffed up machismo. He'd be throwing his second gender around, always trying to be top dog and such. He reeks of typical Alpha aggressiveness and domination, and would snarl and snap at anybody who he feels might be competition. Which leads to him butting heads with Edd a lot I guess, since they both wanna be pack head, lmao.

When he meets Tom though, LETS GO LOSER BEHAVIOR!!!

He'll do that thing most battling males do, be aggressive, secure territory, give their desired mate "presents", and fight off competitors. None of it impresses Tom though, and would only make him turn his head and roll his eyes, since Tord is acting so typically Alpha.

This might cow Tord a bit, and maybe frustrate him too (sadly triggering more outside aggression), as none of his courting is impressing his desired mate, which could lead to a bad aggression fight with Edd.

Tom and Matt would manage to pull them apart, which of course would lead to Tom reaming into Tord for being so STUPID and bullheaded and what the fuck were you thinking starting an Alpha fight?!

Tord would of course be ashamed, for one doing this to Edd who was his friend and packmate, and two probably afraid that his desired mate would outright reject him now. So he just, wilts I guess, full on sad and remorseful, puppy dog eyes, nonexistent tail between his legs while Tom shouts at him.

Turns out, he should just stop trying to be macho and Tom will happily start reciprocating his courting.

So I guess, in this dynamic, I would sort of beat Tord down a little bit before Tom starts responding to his courting?? HAHAHA IDK??

As for the sexual parts, sure I can write Tom more submissive, but Tord has to earn his submission, Tom has to trust that he wont take advantage of him when he hands over his control. And of course, sex wise, I think he'd like him to be rough, takes the edge of y'know??

For child rearing, I'm not so sure Tom would be interested in carrying a kid?? I never really pegged him as somebody who's really interested in having kids I guess?? He's perfectly capable of carrying but idk?? If anything, they'll just end up adopting AK again.

Though it could be cute if AK was their biological son too?? Eeee babie, lil puppy AK <3

SO...YEAH? SORRY I DUNNO IF THIS WAS WHAT YOU WANTED HAHAHAHAHAHA

[megumar]

i translated はっはー's TR/ID and NL/ID comics out of sheer force of curiosity

the translations might not be 100% correct (i used google translate) and i didn't translate some of the tiny texts, sorry about that 🙏

1/10

"Sadik's special made chocolates and Nesia's favorite very sweet chocolates"

TR : Don't you get tired of being stuck in meetings? That's why, I sometimes make sweets and bring them over.

ID : Thank you very much...

ID : *eats* I-It's delicious.

TR : I'm confident with sweets from my house!

ID : *whispers* I want everyone at SEA to eat this too...

TR : !

TR : I'll bring a lot next time! Would you like to make it together~? *strokes Nesia's hair*

ID : wai-- augh...

-------

2/10

TR : Shall we go out to eat after work?

ID : Sure.

TR : Even though the food is mainly desserts.

ID : Yes.

TR : i'm hoping to find something good.

ID : yes.

TR : You don't want it...?

ID : Ah, no... It's not like that, um...

TR : *thinking* Oh, this is...

ID : I'd love it! Very!! I'm thinking of eating something sweet...

ID : I'd love to go eat! I'm looking forward to it!

TR : Hahaha! I get it, I get it. *pats Nesia's back*

TR : Then, we should finish this quickly!

ID : ... Alright.

-------

3/10

ID : What is it?

TR : Hm?

ID : You keep staring at me, makes me hard to eat...

TR : Weeell~~ You have something over here. *pokes his own right cheek*

TR : You seem lost in thought while eating to the point that you don't even notice it.

ID : *blushes* Huh? Has it... always...?

ID : T-That's... more and more...

ID : WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME SOONER!!

TR : Hmm~?

ID : Ah... This is kind of embarrassing...

TR : Now, now~ Never mind that and eat more!

-------

4/10

TR : *pets Nesia's head* Indonesia is really a...

EG : SEKUHARA.

ID : U-Um...

TR : S-SE--!? Oi! It was Egypt who said that, right!!

TR : Ah, that's not it...

TR : Could it be that you didn't like it?

TR : If so, I don't mind if you tell me honestly.

TR : I won't do it again.

TR : No, really, I'm sorry...

ID : ...

TR : E-Err, this is just embarrassing...

ID : I didn't... hate it...

TR : O-Oh, I see...

ID : Yes.

TR : *internally* T-This is-- (sekuhara to what extent, exactly...?)

TR : As long as it's okay-!

TR : Should I hug? Or not!?

TR : EEEH?!

-------

5/10

TR : *still thinking* Will it be too chummy?? *flails*

(He's overthinks too much that he ended up not knowing how to communicate)

ID : Pfft-- Hahahahaha!

ID : Even though Mr. Turkey is wearing a mask, your emotions are leaking.

ID : you can't even say hello properly like that, can you?

ID : Mr. Turkey may hate it, but I like that kind of thing.

ID : I think it's cute. *chuckles*

TR : *internally* HAH? Leaking?? Like??? CUTE????

ID : I'm sorry. Am I being too rude?

TR : ... No, it's--

TR : ... Thanks.

TR : I'm so uncool, huh... (how miserable...)

EG : *thinking* Funny. (and stupid.)

ID : Eh, don't say that...!

-------

6/10 (this is the one that confuses me the most because of Ned’s dialect, please correct me if i’m wrong ;; )

ID : Do you still have something you want from me?

NL : If I do something like that now, the surroundings will be silent.

NL : You do it first.

ID : *slides away* ...

NL : Don't say you don't want it.

NL : Let's get along. (how overt)

ID : If you want to get along, then do something about it.

NL : Ha?

ID : There! There it is! You, and... A GHOST!!

NL : AAH? There's no way I can do it!

NL : Come on, me or the ghost, which one do you hate...? Answer clearly!

ID : BOTH!! (i don't want to get along!)

-------

7/10

NL : Let me take a ride.

ID : I'm not a taxi.

NL : I know, I'm not paying you.

ID : That's not the case, I mean, how did you know it was me?

ID : i'm wearing a full face in this crowd.

NL : I can not lose sight of you. *sparkles*

ID : Eh... *blushes*

ID : *trembling* Whoa... Please pardon me for not picking you up today. (vigilance MAX)

NL : Please, I beg you.

-------

8/10

NL : What is this? *frowns*

ID : Mr. Turkey gave them to me. Aren't they beautiful~?

NL : Ooh...

(Later...)

ID : *opens door* Wel... COME!?

NL : *hands a bouquet of tulips* Accept this.

ID : HA!?

ID : this house is already full of tulips!

NL : there is still space...

ID : it's enough!!

-------

9/10

ID : WHY ARE YOU IN THE SAME BED...!? (unbelieveable...)

NL : Shut up.

NL : Because you're scared of being alone in the dark.

ID : Ha!?

ID : Just as expected. I'm not a child who can't sleep alone at night.

NL : Of course... Otherwise I'll be in trouble... *smooches Nesia's forehead*

ID : *blushes* What the hell...? (we're not in a relationship anymore...)

ID : *thinking* Don't blame me...

-------

10/10

ID : *still thinking* He fell asleep...

ID : *internally, while he's hugging Ned* HAH!! Oops, a force of habit...!

ID : I have to leave while he's sleeping...

NL : *suddenly wakes up* Oh, how passionate.

ID : *blushes and sweats* A-AH... T-This is...!

ID : ALL YOUR FAULT---!!

NL : No it's not.

ID : ... Yes it is...

[kithtaehyung]

NEI R U KIDDINGGGG thank you so much for taking the time to read and share your thoughts on this piece! it means the world arghhhh more response under the cut!

I literally just woke up and decided to read this like the morning newspaper and DAMN it didn’t DISAPPOINT.

I felt like i was reading and visualizing an ENTIRE action movie (very much thinking of 90s Hong Kong Cinema films) with the way everything was described throughout those fights and escape scenes. I wish I could show you the visual movie that my brain created reading this.

LETS GOOO ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT WKR?? come on i am crying just knowing you thought of it like that wow... that's fucking amazing! i wish you could show the visual movie, too, the heck? it sounds like a damn good one.

Also the DIALOGUE! Yoongi/Agust is a man of a few words, but his small and smug actions speaks THOUSANDS of words. And you got that nailed DOWN! 

ugh i love this version of yoongi because he doesn't even need to say much to let us know what he wants. or thinks. or doesn't want? lmao

I love that you’re turning this into an actual series, because I see so much potential in how you will work towards building their relationship (we can see she does not “trust” AGUST but he definitely has a soft spot for her whether he admits it or not) as well as how you develop his character in your take of the “Haegeum” base universe.

it was a hard decision to make into a series (because what am i supposed to do with all these limes????) but i think it was the right choice in the end. this way, we get a whole universe to work with and lots of slow burn. we love slow burn in this house!! these two are gonna be quite the interesting pair to write, as well.

I didn’t expect the kiss to happen so sudden and it was enough to leave me craving for MORE. WHO is this man known as AGUST and what power does he really have? We will find out in the future. 

EHEHE the kiss came out of nowhere to all of us including reader! too bad it was only a distraction........ and who the hell is this guy anyway? what millions of secrets is he not telling us? we sure will find out in due time!

(P.S. I loved how reader is basically ATLA cabbage man but with tangerines instead)

YOU GET ME HAHAHA this poor girl is just trying to sell her fruit in peace!!! thank you so much for all this, nei. i thoroughly enjoyed the commentary :DD

minted (explicit) | myg

title: minted (explicit) pairing: street king!yoongi x street cart vendor!reader rating/genre: explicit (18+) ; angst , suspense , smut ; haegeum au , gang au summary: all you do is wake up, sell your fruit on the dusty streets below your flat, and go to sleep. but everything changes when a customer you always look forward to seeing turns out to be dangerous. really, really dangerous. note: again, this wasn't on the docket for 2024 until i saw one (1) mint yoongi edit on my pinterest feed💀 anyways, this is dedicated to hali @sailoryooons for ur belated bday, nary @joonary for being a cutie pie and letting me adopt the tangerine cart girl idea in general, and luce @minttangerines for ur url and for being a wonderful friend. love you all! warnings: this series may not be for everyone, language, violence, weapons (guns/knives/chopsticks/etc.), blood/wounds mentions, drugs, alcohol, murder, gang activity, poor reader is just trying to get through the day, mint!yoongi, haegeum!yoongi, tatted!yoongi, his eyebrow is pierced, tension, slow burn, choking, reader suffers from “my cabbages” levels of disaster, slight e2l, fight sequences, multiple future explicit scenes, yoongi deserves his own warning, chains but who is ever ever shocked, graphic depictions of violence drop date: august 5th, 2024, 9:03pm est word count: 9.4k aiyaaa✌ mood playlist: here

—

—

Ever since you could remember, gang activity in your town has run unchecked. 

Anything goes. Rough fights out of nowhere, car chases busting streets, or even random delinquents snatching food on the run, dust kicking up onto stock they left behind. 

And out of all the districts, yours is begrudgingly the second worst. 

Why? You still aren’t completely sure. But you do know that the darkest is reserved for the underbelly that only slithers in rumors. A place in which you will never find yourself. 

But you do wonder what must happen there to warrant the winning title because each day here is a battle to keep yourself afloat. 

All you do is sell fruit. Why are you fighting for your life every week? Why can’t you exchange goods for money in peace? If you could compare it to the movies you grew up watching on an outdated television, it’s a grungy reflection of the wild west.

But through all the shit you’ve chosen to endure, at least one person is always kind enough to buy his wares and go.

And today is no different.

You still don’t know his name. But you yearn to. Because his hair is the color of magic and rebellion, and his tattoos really set off that bright mop of locks. 

If those lethal, piercing eyes weren’t enough.

When he lifts three long digits, it takes all your strength to nod and get his purchase together. This is the part that never changes, either.

Just like always. One, three, or five fingers for tangerines. Never two, never four, and never any other fruits. 

It’s charming, in a way. As if he’s more particular than most about what he wants—a trait elusive to many.

Like clockwork, you would hand his order over in thin plastic, and he would walk away to hitch a ride on a passing cart. Just like he does right now with a lazy gait, white tee billowing from his jeans. 

Another day. Another exchange.

In the wavy heat of summer, you sigh. Wondering if anything is ever going to change, and if you would ever get to know more about your most frequent, most mysterious patron.

After a while, you do try talking to him. 

Those looks of confusion slowly turn into little hums or grunts, then into single words that keep you going for days. Even though you rarely hear it, his voice is just as attractive as he is. 

One day, you offer him a plantain, handing it over and telling him it’s on the house. 

“Thanks,” he says amongst the clinks and conversations of the street, pocketing the food away. 

When he does, you see a flash of black metal, and you already know what he’s carrying. You’re used to seeing all sorts of those around nowadays. In this district, you’d be shocked if he didn’t have an arsenal on his person while traveling through.

Besides. Even you have a couple collecting dust in your own flat, handed down by extended family but never used.

“If you ever need anything other than tangerines,” you start with a point to his pants, “Please buy those instead.” 

He’s unmoving. Blinks are all you get so you have no choice but to explain,

“I’m so tired of eating them with everything.” 

When he huffs in amusement, your heart flutters thrice. There’s no reason for a sheen of sweat and sticky mint locks to be so deadly. 

“Then eat something else,” is all the stranger advises before walking off. 

Well.

Even though you don’t have much of a choice, the guy does have a point. You wouldn’t be shocked in the slightest if his aim’s just as straightforward as his wit.

Once one exchange lasts longer than a sentence, the two of you start little conversations during his visits. Which prove more fatal than normal since he’d rest his tattoos on the top shelf of your cart. 

From what you can make out, there are creatures stretching in beautiful teal and vivid orange, and even striking white on his other arm. They ripple so well with his veins, a canvas that sways and hypnotizes with every drum of his fingers. 

You know what they symbolize, though it’s unique to have all of them together. 

Taboo, even. 

But you can’t hold back your admiration because of the sheer beauty. What would they feel like if you just… 

“You always stare this long?”

Shit. “Oh, sorry. I just… I rarely see anyone’s ink up close.”

To your dismay, he takes his arm back. “I don’t have a lot of time today, princess.”

“Right, sorry. Hold on,” you respond, cringing hard at blurting two apologies in a ten second span. 

Meanwhile, your way too handsome regular cocks a brow, clearly comfortable making you squirm as you hand over his bag. 

Effortless. In your chaotic life, It’s almost intoxicating feeling someone this resolute in their whole demeanor. If only you could be so commanding and assured one day. 

But here you stand instead, pretending to count fruit you one hundred percent know the stock of already. “Your art is really nice, by the way,” you admit to your inventory. “All the high-powers. I like what you picked.”

“Didn’t choose these.”

Ah. Way to assume things. 

Raising your head, you make to apologize a third time.

But he’s already retreating with his tangerines, hand stuffed in a pocket and beautiful waves a little less vibrant than you recall. 

“What.” 

“I worry sometimes.” 

His gaze lifts. “About me?” 

“Yeah.” 

You don’t know why you choose to say that of all things. But it’s honest. You always wonder about him and think about the weapon in his jeans. Does he use it? Does he ever need to? 

Maybe you should pick up a hobby or two.

Fingers resting dangerously close, he asks with a tilt of his head, “What would you do, doll? If something happened to someone like me.” 

Someone like him? What does that mean? 

Great. Now you have even more to wonder about, as if he knew that was your exact predicament.

You stare, roaming along his arms before meeting his eyes—almost. “Find someone else to buy my tangerines.” 

Huffing, his brows tick up with his mouth. “I respect that.” His attention doesn’t leave your face as he slowly takes his purchase. “See ya.” 

“Bye,” you whisper back, watching him go. More thoughts and concerns bouncing around your mind in the sticky heat of midday. 

These little nicknames he’s using also aren’t helping your issue in the slightest. 

It starts when you hear shouting from a block down.

“Here they come!”

“Bunch of idiots this time.”

“What do you mean this time?”

Rough raiders this early? They should know it’s almost time for Dragon’s sweep. Bold.

After you hear the telltale yells, clanks, and bangs, your section of the street braces for impact. 

And it swoops in like a whirlwind, ruffians tearing through, pillaging and stealing and swiping goods into thick woven baskets. 

Baskets? The usual suspects always carry leather bags. You assume because of their sturdiness and inconspicuous nature, but what do you really know.

Here it goes again. 

As your fruit is taken right from your cart, you sink to your toes, mourning the regular loss of your menu.

No use fighting. Like every other time, you all let it happen because there’s no point in trying to protect anything that isn’t valuable. Perishables and small homemade goods aren’t worth getting gutted over. Truly, the worst losses you suffer are when—

Your cart shifts violently before thieves topple it over, cracking one of your wheels and splitting the wooden boards in three places.

Springing to your feet, you douse the perpetrators in anger, “What the hell!”

“Oh, this was yours?” Someone chides while his cronies run past. “Thanks for the oranges, love!”

“They’re tangerines!” you correct at his retreating back, kicking your cart before yelping at your bad decision. “Damn it…”

Back to your knees you go. Head drooping, arms encircling, and disappointment pooling around like a shadow.

More shouts and feet in the road rampage through. Then it gets quieter. And quieter. 

Then it’s done.

After silence swells in the wake of chaos, groans start making their way down the street. 

“What’d they get from you this time,” you ask your neighbor, a charming old man selling anything from bowls to wide, round frying pans. 

Looking over his little wreckage, he blinks hard. “They got my woks. Nothing as bad as yours. You okay?” 

Walking over to help clean his mess up first, you bend down with a sigh, “I’ll be alright. But it still sucks.. My poor tangerines..” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Not much to do about it now,” you resign, all your energy taken from you, too. 

A little bit of time passes as you complete your usual round of help, though this raid was worse than others. As they all give their thanks, you keep thinking about how to make the whole situation better. Moreso for them than you because you’ve always been one of the least vulnerable ones on the block.

“You should find another place to sell, dear.” 

In disagreement, you slip into a saddened smile. “I can’t leave you guys,” you explain to the lady you’re holding pails for. “Who will help clean everything up?” 

“Don’t underestimate your elders now.” 

“Fair,” you respond through a chuckle, handing her one of the metal buckets. “If only better protection was an option around here.”

“You know the rules,” another shop owner drones through lingering spices, “Dragon won’t protect us if it isn’t in their own interests.” 

Unfortunately, he’s right. Every single raid that hasn’t coincided with a gang sweep goes overlooked. Even the city police don't bother coming down your street anymore, which is another issue in itself.

If only Tiger or Crane had been the high-powers in place instead. 

At least they seem to be more fair.

After you finish helping, you finally venture back to your own cart, realizing that the trek is a lot further than you thought. 

Did you really walk so far this time? The damage was dealt for much more than a block at this point. 

Not like you need to sprint back, though. What’s left to steal? Everything you got swept into those woven containers.

Still so odd…

But not as odd as the sight that greets you on your return. 

Because instead of seeing your wreckage of a cart tilted and abysmal, it’s upright and being mended.

By none other than your favorite set of hands.  

What the hell? What’s he doing here? You quite literally have nothing to give so there’s no reason for him to spare a second at your broken stand. 

Fast-walking, you hastily try to halt his help, “Oh, shit, you don’t have to—” 

“Course I don’t.” 

That shuts you up. In your split second of silence, you note with agony that his hair is messily tied in a minted bun. Are his sleeves bunched at his biceps, too? Great. What were you even telling him again? 

Ah, yes. You were telling this mystery of a man that he doesn’t have to literally put your stand back together. “Seriously, I got it.” 

“Don’t sweat it.” 

“But it’s my cart, I don’t need your—”

With one look over his shoulder, your mouth snaps shut. And suddenly can’t move to argue again. 

What the hell is up with today? 

Forget all that. What’s he doing? At least you’re familiar with all the shop owners and vendors on your block, though you can’t say you wouldn’t do the same thing for someone you don’t know. But this guy has always been so standoffish and barely approachable. So how is he lending both hands to help you right now? 

Whatever. If he’s gonna be as stubborn as this heat, you can be, too. 

Scanning the area for scattered tools, you find a sun-warmed hammer and get to work, fixing one end of the cart while he works on the other. When you feel his gaze on your working shoulder, it takes massive strength to ignore him—even if you wanna know what his issue is and why he smells really, really good this afternoon.

Looks like you need more nails for this board to fit. When your eyes find a couple on the ground, you clinch a second piece between your teeth while hammering in the first. 

Sounds stop at your side, but you wait until you pluck the metal nail from your mouth and stamp it in to look over.

Oh. He’s eyeing the hammer. Not you. Obviously. 

You wordlessly hand it over, arm slicked with exertion. Because after the day you’ve had, you don’t feel like everything needs a spoken sentence attached. 

It takes the guy a bit to take it from you, but when he does, he holds your stare. “Thanks.” 

You simply nod, eyes sticking to him as he works on the tattier side wait it looks almost new. Better than it has in a very long time. Did he really get that much done in the time you were gone? There’s been great care taken during his repair if that’s the case.  

Hmm. You finally learn something about your favorite customer. Maybe he’s just been a mechanic or carpenter this whole time? 

Contemplative, you get up on sore legs to walk to your cooler—something thankfully missed by the rough raiders. Digging through the clinkage, you retrieve a local beer you recently procured from the restaurant across the street. 

It’s not much. Absolute bottom shelf. But it’s all you got other than a few pieces of oni-coin, so he’s gonna have to deal with it.

When you offer the glass, your regular eyes it for a moment. More than enough time for you to get a good look at his striking floral top.

Well. Mechanic and carpenter are out of the question because that one piece of clothing looks more expensive than your entire apartment building.

Who even is this guy? Now you feel destitute handing him something so cheap.

Just when you think he’s gonna refuse, he takes the beer and smoothly shucks it open, suddenly making you wonder how a bracelet can do that and why it was so attractive.

God. You need to walk straight to the nearest inlet stream and dunk your head right in.

“Thank you,” you whisper, gulping at his full swigs. “You really didn’t have to do all this.” 

“Got some time to kill,” he shrugs. Standing, the man takes another sip, peering along the street with sunlit eyes. With the bottle near his mouth, he murmurs, “You really need to set up somewhere else, doll. This street’s turning into a hot spot.” 

Squinting up at the long lines of clothes and curtains floating in the breeze, you sigh at the building nearest. “I live close,” you sulk. “And this is the easiest place to get to.” 

Those are excuses. Just tell him the real reason you won’t venture out and plop yourself somewhere more profitable. Well, maybe not all of the reasons, but the main one. 

Leaning back on your cart, you stare at the loose dirt, swiping some with your shoes. “Maybe I’m just used to it at this point.” 

He won’t respond. Or he’ll respond in his own way, which is mostly silence. 

But a bright strand falls over his face before he hums, “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” 

Many people have warned you at this point. It’s basically your stubborn and spiteful nature that’s making you stay in the first place. Why would you move when you chose to be here? Why leave a place you actively choose to call home? 

Fighting spirit quelled, you nod right to your stand as you count what’s salvageable. “I know, but I like it here.” When he lifts an unbelieving brow, you look away. “It’s true. But trust me, if there was a way to just make it all stop, I’d take it.” 

He takes another swig, both of you looking into the street and watching things slowly get back to normal pace. Adults and kids alike are back to wandering around, buying what’s left and offering condolences. 

“I’m not fixing another cart,” your patron turned repairman grunts, motioning to your wheel as he steps back. “So don’t fuck this one up.” 

Huh? It wasn’t your fault! All the accidents and chaos that blow through aren’t something you can control oh he’s grinning. Why is he grinning? Why do you feel hot all over? 

His teeth shine in daylight. “I’m messing with you.” 

Ah. 

This version of him is not good for you at all.

When he starts to walk away, you blurt out a quick, “Wait!” 

Shit! Why did you do that? What are you possibly supposed to say right now? All you wanted was to see him a little longer… And while staring at his backside would be more than enough, you kinda wanted to actually talk. 

What do you do? He stopped; he’s waiting. 

And he looks impatient as hell. 

Snapping into action, you round your cart and trot over, offering your name as if you didn’t just give up where you lived. 

Then—without thinking—you ask for his with the most curious, innocent, “What’s yours?” 

Silence has never been so booming.

In the dusty swirls of your street, you wait with a back that’s getting sweatier and colder with each passing second. 

Was that not okay to ask? Did you fuck up with a single question? 

Perfect. You just blew your one good thing about being out here. Wincing, you crush your words so hard you think your teeth will break into dust, drifting off into the very breeze wafting his striking locks. 

After a condescending puff, he only smirks.

Then he takes one step. And another. And another.

The air around you melts, weighing on your shoulders while lighting them aflame all at once. It’s a feeling you can’t describe to anyone else, because they would just need to stand next to this man to believe it. 

Checking to see if the street is clear, your best customer leans over. Slowly. Purposefully. “Yoongi,” he offers with a voice so handsome you’ll think about it for days. “But don’t fucking tell anyone.” 

Oh. 

Why did… you kinda like that? 

Blinking, you swallow. “I won’t.” 

This is when he’s supposed to just leave. He’d walk away, bag swinging with his strides. But ever keeping you on your sore toes, the man just chuckles low before rasping out the most devilish sentence in existence, 

“Always took you for a good girl.”

Then he backs away, turning on his heel and leaving you a statue in the street.

Yoongi. 

For a hardened soul, his name is so… 

Tender. 

For the next sixty days, you don’t get ransacked once. 

But there’s also been no sight of Yoongi. 

As the weeks trudge by, you can’t decide which outcome is worse.

The skies are magnificent today. But obviously at a molten price.

“Thank you for trying,” you say to a lovely wares owner before venturing back out into simmering streets. Exhaling, you wipe sweat from your brow, squinting before choosing to walk left or right. 

Left seems promising. 

You’ve been searching for hours now, perusing through shops, checking out vendors both nice and catty. But after a whole day’s search, you still haven’t found what you’re looking for. 

It’s nothing urgent or pressing. But you would at least like to be prepared. 

Since your initial mission is a bust, hopefully your next one makes up for it before you melt right into gravel and dirt.

Find a meal.

Walking along the busy roads, you pass a few options and keep them in mind, making sure to greet a fellow tangerine cart vendor with a smile. Hopefully they do well today.

A couple steps further, a giant cooler catches your eye. Seafood of all types lie inside along cubes of ice, and you weigh the pros and cons of smelling like fish just to have a cool head.

But before you can make any choices, the smell of spices and hearty soup softly pull your feet inside the restaurant nearby. 

What’s here? Noodles? You’re always down for that. Apparently even in scorching weather.

After ordering, you take your seat at a random middle table in a chair facing the entrance. 

Always facing the entrance.

Damn. You really need to accomplish what you set out to do. But sunset is fast approaching these days, and you aren’t anywhere close to home. All you have time for now is eating and heading out. 

The service here is quick, at least. You’re already thanking the owner for sliding a bowl in front of your sweaty form. 

With a head full of thoughts, you stare into nothing, stirring your noodles and waiting for the heat to die down. 

Maybe you should’ve just walked a shorter distance and checked the shops you originally wanted to browse. If things went to plan, you could’ve been back by now, freshly showered and curling up on a worn down bed. 

But instead, your feet are sore, your head is anything but washed, and you have to trek home empty-handed—on the first day off you’ve had in months. 

Defeated, you sigh, going back to your bowl and watching sliced vegetables swirl in aromatic broth. 

At least the food in this area seems good. And the fading decor really adds to the… 

Ambiance. 

Wait. 

Dragons. A lot of them. 

You can’t pull your eyes away from the crew walking in, bringing heat from the sweltering sun in their eyes and donning their telltale, striking teal. 

But you can only kid yourself for so long because the one that truly has your gaze tethered is the man in front. The one you haven’t seen in weeks. The one looking right back at you with a visage so shadowed you feel like moving tables to let him pass. 

…Yoongi? 

His jacket. The colors.

He’s in Dragon?

Suddenly his hair makes terrifying sense.

As his guys stalk through, you swallow hard, not expecting to see him and having no earthly idea what to do with this harrowing information. There are so many thoughts overlapping each other that they all amalgamate into one huge batch of sludge. 

Aren’t you smack dab in Crane territory? There’ve been white suits peppering the streets everywhere. 

So what the hell is Dragon doing here?

From the slight confusion pinching his forehead, you know Yoongi didn’t expect to see you, either. Which makes it even weirder when he slowly takes your chopsticks right from your fingers. 

Hold on, what—

“What are you—”

A lone, long digit over lips is the only response you get, silencing you immediately before you whip your head around to watch him rush past. 

All of them waste no time tearing up the stairs, a myriad of blues blending with gritty paint and smoke. 

And just like that, your reunion is over. 

Home. You need to go home. Leave, leave, leave, because something is bound to be going down upstai—

A thud faintly shoots out into the staircase, and you spin around again in your chair, eyes snapping to the ceiling. 

Shit. 

Even though you’re on high alert, you realize with a quick sweep that no one else is noticing. Or moving. Or even paying attention to anything else but their own company. 

Does no one else care about the commotion? Do hits happen in this area that often? 

Mind running, you can’t decide what to do. Because even though Yoongi’s guys have plenty of weapons, he clearly had nothing since he needed to borrow your damn eating utensils.

Another crash rains dust on conversations around your shoulders, causing you to look up one last time. 

Go home, go home, go home. In what universe would Yoongi himself ever need your help here? 

With one more look at your noodles, you curl your lips before biting a side. 

Already yelling at yourself for choosing to book it towards the back staircase. 

Shit shit shit this is so stupid. This is probably the worst decision you’re gonna make in your life.

But your gut is churning thinking about Yoongi. Even a seasoned swordsman needs expertise to wield mere chopsticks and win. 

Fuck, if you succeeded in your search today, you probably could’ve been a little more useful. 

Swiping your own set of red from a nearby cup, you hightail it up, slowing as you round a corner and immediately hear multiple clangs and scuffles beyond the last turn.

Stop. You can go back. You can still turn around and go home.

An inhale.

Your feet propel you up and into a dark hall. As you slowly slide along the wall, your gut churns and churns. At a bang, you crouch with a skipped beat of your heart.

This is really, really dumb. But you can’t stop yourself and you have no clue why.

Nothing happens around you. So you keep going. With each careful slide of your foot, you get closer and closer to the noise.

Approaching the corner, you very slowly stick your head out for a peek.

And it’s pure commotion. Pure chaos. Holy shit, what is going on? 

Fuck, there’s already a body lying limp on the floor meters away—

Your chopsticks. You wanna hurl.

But a man flies out of a room ahead before he grips and wrestles with another, and you reel yourself back to avoid being seen by either one.

Where is Yoongi? Is he okay? Did he leave already?

You give one more peek, scanning the long raucous corridor as swift as you can to see any sign of.. Mint.

He’s still here. How’s he just walking so nonchalant as his crew fucks shit up? Crap, he just went into a room and out of sight. 

“Where’d they go?”

“Upstairs!”

Fuck, that was in the restaurant! Get up get up you have no choice but to hide now. 

With pounding steps, you rush forward and book it, entering a large room to dive behind some steel shelving and large, woven baskets right as more Dragons come in behind with fists clenched.

Breathe. Steady. Calm the fuck down.

The grunts rush to the hallway to join the fray, and you wait in the now pungent solitude of your room. With only a still body to accompany you. 

What do you do? What even can you do? 

Just as nerves grip your stomach like a vice, Yoongi strides into the open area, heading right for the exit and not even sparing his kill a glance. 

Go. Go now. Why can’t you move? Why aren’t your hands letting go of your cold confinement? It smells like death and blood and you need to leave with the only person you know—or don’t—so why can’t your feet just fucking—

Someone else slithers into the room. A man in brown with a knife. A knife, a knife, a knife he’s getting faster and Yoongi doesn’t hear him the guy is too quiet fuck! “Yoongi!” 

It all happens before your brain can paint the bloody picture. Shooting out from your hiding spot, you race towards the assassin, slamming into their lanky build just in time.  

Both of you topple to the ground, your target roaring in pain and twisting like hell to fight back fuck you didn’t get him how you needed to he’s got you—

Pain erupts in your hip as you’re grabbed, the room spinning as you’re thrown to the side and your ear hitting concrete right before chopsticks ping down. Thinking quick, you knee the guy as hard as you can, scrambling to finish the job because if you don’t, you’re gone gone gone.

“Bitch!” Your opponent clutches your shirt right as you reach for the nearest red pair, seizing your throat right as you grip and swing them around to stab the other side of his neck with a yell.

Luckiest timing of your life. 

“Hng!” Fuck, he’s still holding down hard and choking, choking, squeezing. “Fuck you!” 

Fight back. Keep the weapon inside he’s too strong finish him finish him. 

Darkness. Ink drops in water. Your vision taints as your grip loosens, and you can only hope that Yoongi got away safe. He had to. At least you… Were able to do… 

This one thing… 

…

Oxygen and life rush back into your lungs, color burning through your esophagus as you gasp for sweet sweet air. Right as you come to, all you witness is the heavy heel of a boot twisting the forearm latched onto you. 

And when the shoe leaves your vision. Lifeless eyes stare back.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck that was close. Oh god. You actually did it. Oh fuck. 

Coughing, you rush up as you get tugged and pulled right against chains and embroidery, your ears ringing with a gravelly command and glass breaking in the nearby corridor,

“Don’t say my fuckin’ name so loud.” 

“Excuse me?” 

Yoongi roughly lets you go before pinning you with pure anger. Not to say thank you. Not to tell you any words of gratitude at all. The only other thing he finds the need to say is simply, 

“You shouldn’t be up here.” 

What the fuck. You just murdered someone for him and this is all you get? Eyes welling, you feel your body slick and sticky with crimson when you turn, coughing and spitting out regret before you wheeze, wheeze, wheeze, “That’s—that’s all you have to say?” 

Dread swirls around your stomach like poison.

But the sternness from before completely vanishes as Yoongi lifts your chin. His eyes scan your throat and chest, and you rip your head away from his touch because he is not excused just yet. 

“It’s not mine,” you snap, knowing exactly what he’s looking for and what you must look like to him. Dirty. Gross. Certainly a far image from the girl selling tangerines.

But your face is gently held again, and somehow this softer turn carries more strength to swivel you forward. 

Why is Yoongi still looking? Now he’s holding your gaze as if he’s never seen you before. What’s that about? You’re still the same, the same, the same.

…Are you?

More crashes and shots are heard down the hall, and Yoongi snaps his head up in an instant. 

God, you smell. You reek. Your nose is tainted and your hands even more so. There’s no way he’s gonna have anything to do with you now. 

But you get the shock of the century when the man commands you to come along. “Let’s go.” 

Absolutely not. This is all you got in you for a lifetime. “What? No, no, no. No way, I’m going home.”

“And they’ll follow you the whole way back.” 

“I—I didn’t mean to—” 

Shots ring out before grunts barrel out into the short hallway. All of them piling out from crevasses and hidden passages. 

You give one more look at the two men now crumpled on the ground, bile rising up and threatening to spill. 

“Tough shit, princess. You did, now live with it.” 

Live with it. How poetic. 

You were protecting him. You did what you had to do. But you have blood on your hands again and now Yoongi will see you as something else besides a fucking street vendor. 

“Are you coming or not?”

You’re gonna puke your guts out.

With a stilted cry, you bend to snatch your weapons up yet again—gagging at the squelches and much deeper red—before following Yoongi’s long steps. 

Your hands. They’re shaking so bad you can’t even pocket the chopsticks properly. But you finally get them down, crushing your palms and squeezing just to stop them from rattling. 

When you wait behind Yoongi checking the corner, you turn around to make sure you aren’t being followed. And seeing the hallway still a moving mass of broken glass and hard swings, you think you’re safe. 

The stairs feel so different on the way down. Is that because you feel completely changed? There’s no coming back from this. Another side of you died right alongside those two people upstairs. 

No time to think about that. You have to follow his lead. And he’s slowing down why is he slowing down? 

Oh. Normal. Be normal to not garner suspicion. You have to do the same. 

Wait. You can’t go down there with a shirt full of stained evidence! Grabbing him and pulling back, you whisper, “Yoongi—”

His growl is so fierce your head spins, “What the fuck did I say about my n—”

“My clothes,” you panic. “I can’t.” 

Yoongi gives you a quick look before gripping the duffle strap. Brows lowered, he grits out while dumping it, “Lose the shirt.” 

“What?” 

“Do it.” 

“Where’d he go?”

“It’s gone!”

Your heads snap up before you lock eyes. And he doesn’t need to say anything to show you what he’s thinking behind those minted bangs.

As you hastily strip, your brain works in weird ways. Instead of processing how you very much need to hurry the fuck up, you lament the bra of choice today. And how sweaty you look. Because of course those are your thoughts of choice right now. 

Something’s dumped on you before your shirt hits the ground, and you think about its warmth before you realize exactly what’s on your shoulders. “You sure?” 

He’s already heading down. Oh god. You’re really putting this on shit shit shit. 

You’re quick to slip into the material before checking for your chopsticks, rushing down the rest of the stairs to meet him. Nerves firing on all cylinders, you follow Yoongi out of the restaurant with a single, disturbing thought. 

This is going too well. 

But you’re passing tables, you’re walking by the fish display, don’t fucking sob you’re out in the street now. 

Relax. You’re walking. His white tee is flawless and people have no clue you left a bloody shirt on a stairwell. Don’t fucking cry.

But suddenly.

Shouting erupts behind you both, just as a cop car rolls past the restaurant only to get surrounded. 

And with one look back, your brain freezes. Right before Yoongi sounds a little too delighted to say something so foreboding,

“Looks like you’re in it now.”

Adrenaline spikes as you burst into motion. Hot summer air stings your lungs as legs propel you forward, with nothing in sight except for your partner in high crime. 

Yoongi’s right. 

You’re in it now. 

And just like the delinquents that you despise, the two of you both kick up dust on the run. 

You’re really doing this. 

Holy shit, you’re really doing this and there’s no waking up, no jolting awake, no pinching yourself to know that it’s all a dream. The only thing pinching is your sides, fresh stings of karma with each heavy footstep through crowded streets, buildings, levels, wherever the fuck you go. 

At least Yoongi is commanding as he leads you through the city—clearly from a heap of experience. Though rattled, you follow him with more adrenaline than questions. Because running is all you know. Run, run, run, escaping is your only objective and you cannot let up even once.

Your feet pelt down a staircase before you leap onto a disposal bin, impact denting as you follow Yoongi’s long strides across the colorful tops. Shouts and metal pings echo behind you as your chasers catch up, and you grit your teeth so hard they rattle as you jump to alley ground. “Fuck!”

Searing, searing pain rushes through your legs as you twist and wind through busy corridors, squeezing into the gaps Yoongi finds as he barrels in front. 

“Get back here!” 

“You fuckers!”

Who’s following you? Are they even Crane? You don’t see a shred of white on their clothes at all so are they working for some random guy Yoongi stole from?

When you watch him turn at the shouting, all thoughts vanish as your gut churns. 

He’s grinning.

You just killed someone for him. And he probably has more blood on his hands than you can imagine. 

And he’s… enjoying this? 

You feel sick, mind blazing with a million red warning signs. How could you ever have had feelings for h—

You bounce off a passerby as you run, grunting at the sudden pain in your shoulder when another person rams into your back and topples you over, dirt scraping into your palms and knees. 

Shit shit shit it’s so dusty on the ground and all you see are traveling shoes where are you? Where is he did he leave did he even see you fall? It’s too condensed here there’s no way he’s not taking the next chance to disappear.

Forget all of that, they’re coming. The chasers are coming and you see them see you down get up get up get up what the fuck get up now.

Ripping out a groan, you rush to your feet as soon as someone swoops in, bashing someone right behind you with someone’s crate of fruit. 

Yoongi? He waited for you?

“Go!” 

Both of you hightail it with you now in the lead, and your eyes buzz as you slip through holes in the crowd. Left, left, right, around, left again, between. 

An intersection ahead. Yes. Lose everyone in the vehicle traffic or hitch a ride with a stranger. Fascinating how the survival tactics that spawn from your block develop in real time on the run.

Almost there, almost there, almost there—fuck! 

Whiffing in front of your nose, a metal weapon smacks the ground at your toes. 

Flailing, you dodge the next swing, ducking before you see a black duffle smack your assailant in the face. 

Keep going. Finish him and get away. As Yoongi shifts left, you lunge forward, sending a swift punch to the guy’s ribs that hurt like hell goddamn oh fuck someone brought a knife!

“Yoongi!” Just as the surrounding civilians yell and clear out, you rush toward his aid before you’re tackled, air whooshing out of your lungs as your back pummels into gravel. Fuck fuck fuck this masked woman also has a dagger. A thick one. Don’t let her win don’t let her win hold on for dear fucking life. 

Did you think you’d find yourself in a grudge match to keep metal from sinking into your chest today? No. Ever? Also no. 

Your arms are shaking. Shots ring out. Sweat is your enemy. The street is in uproar. Where’s Yoongi did he hear you? Fuck, the metal tip is pricking you now this is— 

Mercifully, your attacker yelps as something slams into her side, dark brown clothes crumpling before you’re hoisted upward and dragged back into the crowd. 

“Let me go or I’ll kick your ass—”

“You good?” 

Oh, it’s Yoongi. Again. Okay. Eyes swirling, you lock onto the gun held flush in his other hand before you nod. “I—I think so—”

“Then keep up.” 

Winding between people, you’re only focused on getting away. But when you catch glimpses of him, he’s back to his glint. He’s exhilarated.

If only you were both doing anything else. If only you weren’t so queasy and guilty and loathing of your own self.

Right as you finally burst into bustling traffic, Yoongi boldly stops a taxi at its hood, motioning you to follow him inside. 

Shocked but head reeling, you open the door closest to your sweaty legs and slide in. 

And before you can even greet the shouting driver, Yoongi pulls you to his side and rushes something out in your ear, 

“Kiss me.” 

“I said get out!” 

“What?” 

“Come here.” 

You’ve kissed before. Not many times, but enough to know that this man knows what the fuck he’s doing because you feel like your soul just abandoned you to exist in this car forever. You don’t know why this is happening or where this came from, but his lips feel as soft as his name and as deadly as the gun he’s pulling on your driver—

“Han Station,” he drawls, halting time and space. “Or your papers are burned by morning.” 

Oh. 

You were just… Oh. 

Lips puffed and head swirling, you sit frozen in your spot, marinating in the realization that the best kiss of your life was a mere distraction. And as you watch Yoongi keep his aim straight, you assume he probably didn’t even think much of it, either. 

“…I thought you looked familiar,” the driver slowly grits, hands gripping his wheel before he shakes his head. “You’re a little far from home.”

You think that’s all he’s gonna say. But his eyes are sharp in the rear view mirror, knowing a gun is pointed straight at his dome. “Aren’t you.”

What is he getting at you need to leave fast—

“Agust.” 

…Huh? 

Agust? 

This is the first time you feel a heartbeat against your arm, and you hold a breath as Yoongi tightens his fingers on the gun. 

When he doesn’t reply, the car fills to the brim with tension, and you feel crushed by its liquid weight. 

Don’t you have to go? Aren’t you in a chase? Are you getting a little too hot?

When you go to slide to your own side of the car for some space, the hand around your shoulder squeezes. 

And you’re more confused, exhausted, and thrown off than ever. 

“Han Station,” is all Yoongi—Agust?—repeats, voice ice. “Now.”

To which the taxi driver stares, standing his ground until he breaks eye contact first to obey. 

“Fuckin’ Dragons and their useless whores.”

Oh, fuck that. 

Before you can lunge forward to outright strangle the man, Yoongi does something that has your eyes magnifying into saucers and hands shooting up to your mouth.

He fires the gun straight at the man’s thigh, yelps leaving both the driver's throat and yours holy fuck! 

“You bastard—”

“You’ll live. Drive.”

“Fucking—fuck!”

The car shifts through traffic, swerving left and right and cutting off slower vehicles. When force smushes you closer into Yoongi’s side, you can’t help but notice how fit he is, and how calm he’s being despite the whole chase. Despite that spike in adrenaline. Despite blowing a hole in a stranger’s leg for six words.

He also feels really, really good against your side, but you can’t let that matter anytime soon. There’s absolutely no way you can let this dangerous man in, especially after this entire nightmare of a day. 

So you swallow, trying to compartmentalize because you’ll reach insanity if you don’t.

Does anyone out there know you took a life minutes ago? Or hours ago? You just kissed a criminal five and a half minutes ago. Would they care about that, too?

The window is suddenly much more interesting than any of your wandering, slingshot thoughts. 

Wait. It’s very pretty in this area, and you finally can tell some semblance of where you are. Because you only know of one part of the city that looks like this, and it’s deep in Crane territory. 

Did you both really make it this far? 

Carefully tended to, it’s a lot greener on the sidewalks, and more open on the roads. And it’s on one of these roads that you finally notice the sunset, gold accents shining on sleek street signs and the tops of buildings that seem much more at rest than you do. 

Rest. Sleep. Home. 

With the luck you’re having, it would be a miracle and a half to reach even one of the three. 

Did you get followed? You don’t know how much longer you can run, so you really fucking hope not. 

“Almost there,” Yoongi whispers, voice scratching your ear in the worst and best ways. “When we get out, move your ass.” 

When you watch the wary, heavy breathing driver in his rear view mirror, you bite out, “I know how to get out of a car, thanks.” 

“Just listen to me.”

“Why?”

“Do you trust me?” 

“No.” 

That came out quicker than you could stop it. But Yoongi only lets silence come between you before he squeezes your shoulder. When he speaks, you can hear how carved out his smirk is without even seeing it, 

“Good girl.”

And you spoke the truth. It wouldn’t have come out so fast if it weren’t. But you know to at least follow his advice here because he’s kept you alive thus far. He didn’t need to drag you out and protect you the whole way, so it’s not like he would steer you wrong here. Right? 

Right? 

“Here,” Yoongi orders before the car slows to a stop. 

That wasn’t so bad. You can get out normally now so why did Yoongi say—

Right as your foot hits ground, the taxi peels out, forcing you to throw yourself out of the side before the rest of your body leaves with it. 

Fucking hell that hurt what the fuck was that for? 

Dirt and dust coats your tongue before you do anything to spit it out. Saliva rushes from your glands as you cough and hack, all while feeling every muscle group in your body begging to not stand up. 

But you feel rough, commanding hands on your arms. “You good?”

“Yeah—”

“Then get up. Get up.”

Straining and wincing like hell, you follow Yoongi’s lead yet again. Because you hear cars rolling up with bad intentions and that means you have to sprint again. 

What the fuck did Yoongi steal? And how the hell are these guys still on your tail? Their resources have got to be as good as Crane’s and yet, they don’t feel the same at all. 

You’re hobbling, but you’re going. You’re rushing. You’re going to get through this alive. 

Instead of heading into the underground, you find yourself ascending a flight of steps. Rumbles and rattles hit your ears as you realize exactly what kind of station this is—one you haven’t seen anywhere in your district. 

Han Station is a floating railway? 

Holy shit, where are you?

Yoongi skids around a corner before you plant hard to stop yourself, only to see him clash with someone before something connects right with your stomach, and you crumple before you feel a solid hit to your head. 

Oh.

The world spins and moves as you hear vibrations, slowed sounds that could be shouts. Gunshots? Or maybe songs? You don’t truly know but your head is aching—

Your arm rushes up to block something before your body follows, and you scream before gripping whatever you can and flipping a whole body forward. 

Reality crashes back into your ears as you snap out of your head. 

You haven’t had to do that maneuver in forever. Was muscle memory more than enough?

“Come on!”

Go. Go, follow him, both of you need to get to the rail shit it’s leaving!

The blaring reverberates through the air, pinging off metal and wheels screeching on the track lines as you bolt for the open doors.

Mid-stride, Yoongi swings to look at the people barreling up the stairs. “One more time: do you trust me?”

“No!”

“Good”—his hands grip your waist—“Jump!”

Head empty, you leap onto the railcar right as it starts to pick up speed, and you watch in horror as Yoongi empties his clip behind him until he can’t anymore. 

“Yoo—” Fuck, what was his name? He seems to not prefer the one you call him and that has to be for good reason. What was it?

You’re leaving. He’s gritting his teeth while hitting the bottom of his gun but he needs to get up! What was his fucking name! 

“Agust!” 

Yoongi finally whips his head around, dashing to the end of the train and straining to carry the duffle. 

He needs to launch it or leave it behind. There’s no way he’s not being weighed down so hard. “Here!” you yell, knowing that look is only reserved for people he doesn’t want to trust. It’s normal. But it still stings. “Hurry up!”

After one more second, he swings it around and flings, leaping onto the side handrail after you get blasted by the bag holy fuck that hurt. 

He was running with this the whole time? No wonder his shoulders are so cut this is heavy.

Straining, you peek out into the wind, seeing Yoongi holding on and scooting along thin steprails towards your awaiting hands.

Shit, this is dangerous. Buildings and the city below fly by, and a parallel train whooshes and roars past as you finally tug him inside with shaky wheezes.

Just like that.

You made it out.

What the fuck. You did it. No one else was able to get onto the train. You’re safe for now. 

Finally, finally, finally able to breathe. 

But goddamn, you both stand out like blood on a blank page.

As you struggle to fully stand, you notice everyone else on the train—well-kept, carrying themselves in sleek linens and lush outfits, hair done beautifully and to perfection. 

Which makes it unsurprising that plenty of them regard the pair of you with suspicion and morbid curiosity. While intrigue covers the one with an unfairly handsome face, zings of jealousy and judgment fire your way. 

You feel so out of place. You are so out of place. But that doesn’t give anyone the right to look at you like filth. The words from the taxi driver pierce your brain again, and you feel rage and pain bubble up to your tongue,

“Anyone got something they wanna sa—”

But Yoongi does something that has your brain chemistry altering because he casually bends a knee in front of you while holding the top rail, forcing you back into the side of the train car and only seeing his jewelry. 

When your eyes snap to his, he regards you before peering outside. “Stop,” he mutters. “You're causing a scene.”

“Me?” Oh, he has some nerve. “What did I do, you’re the one—”

“Quiet.”

Ridiculous. Huffing, you let disagreement tug your lips while joining him in watching the world go by. 

Realizing with a pang that you are probably never getting back home. You’re never gonna see your favorite neighbor with his woks and caterpillar eyebrows. All the produce you were planning to sell will only succumb to mold and time. 

Your tangerines… 

When a tear falls, it glints in your reflection before quickly being swiped away. 

No. Don’t do any of that here where people can see—where he can see. No one will know what the hell you just went through today. Be normal, strong, normal. 

The ride lasts a little longer, with people coming and going during each stop. When there are seats open, neither you nor Yoongi move to take them. The two of you stay glued where you stand.

Silent, together, and covered in hidden blood.

The next stop seems to be in a quieter sector of the city. All around you are buildings you’ve never seen before stretching miles into the sky, and the streets are so neatly paved you’re convinced they’re fake. 

“This is us,” Yoongi whispers, hand guiding your hip to move toward the doors.

Skin scorching under his touch, you can only nod.

Where are you now? Where are you getting off? 

You both exit the train with a few others, and you watch with heightened curiosity as they carry satchels and wear shoes that look horribly uncomfortable. As you move down the steps, you keep craning your neck to take everything in, and more questions fill your head than answers. 

But the truth remains even as you and Yoongi stop in front of your destination.

You cannot run anymore. Even if more of whoever those guys were showed up, you may just choose to sit down instead of take another stride. Besides, your body is still running a thousand steps even though you haven’t moved since getting on the train anyway. After today, the chase may never stop.

“We’ll stay here.” 

We? Stay? 

“Here? This place is…” You keep peering up and up, the top of the building so high your neck hurts. It’s so foreign and magical your only adjective is a quiet, “Nice.” 

At your side, Yoongi seems annoyed when he asks, “Expect something different?” 

“Yeah, like… I dunno, a secret lair or something.” 

Air whooshes from his nostrils, but there’s a stark absence of a smile. Looking up at the building, too, he explains something that you’ve never heard of before,

“We’re in a grey zone. No one will follow us here.” 

Right. Because that somehow makes sense to regular civilians like you. Because you are one, are one, are one. “Allegedly,” you scoff, not knowing what to believe anymore.  

Yoongi pauses before heading up, and his agreement makes you look. “Allegedly.” 

Mm. 

After taking the tiny steps to the entrance, you wonder what he must be thinking bringing your haphazard look in tow. 

Because he could’ve left you behind at any point in time. But he didn’t. What does that mean? Why is he keeping you alive and at his side?

While you’re taking in the opulent and vast lobby, Yoongi guides you toward the front desk, shifting the duffle on his shoulder. 

This place is gorgeous. Nothing like you’ve ever seen. How were they able to install a waterfall in a building? What kind of money does this so-called grey zone have? 

Yoongi nods toward the concierge, who quickly nods back and scurries away and into a room.

If you weren’t so tired, you could probably make something of that exchange. But you are very much exhausted so frankly, you don’t give a shit right now. 

Although. You do give a shit about the fingers suddenly interlacing with your own. As your hand is held, you shoot your best client a look so potent he stares back. “What now,” you snip, question low and dripping with distrust. 

Unfazed, Yoongi slowly pulls you into his side, a steady hand coming up to wrap around your tired hips. So nonchalant, so lax, so confusing as he murmurs,

“Just wanted to.”

Your heart trips into the next beat.

On sore legs, you wait until the concierge comes back with a key, eyes swiping over you as if they finally noticed your existence. Which seems to perplex them as they hand over the metal device.

And Yoongi just takes it, not a word said before he directs you across the lobby to what look like elevators.

Even these look fancy as fuck. Wherever you are and whatever this place is, you feel even more out of place than on that judgy train. 

A hotel worker bows before he motions to the opening doors. “Nice to see you again,” he murmurs to the ground, seemingly expecting the same non-response given to the front desk. “Would you like the usual, Mister—” 

“No,” Yoongi clips him off. “Not this time.” 

“Understood.” 

Brows pinched, you’re starting to get a weird feeling. 

How does everyone know Yoongi so well here? He said this was a grey zone, which you’d think would be akin to a neutral or non-threatening one. So why does it feel like he’s got this area on lock? Who exactly are you getting into an elevator with? 

…Who exactly did you save? 

Yoongi was right when he said you’re in it now. But faced with more questions surrounding him than anything or anyone else, you’re starting to wonder what pit of hell you dropped yourself into. 

Especially after catching the look of utter panic from the serviceman. 

Right before sliding doors shut the world out. 

—

—

⟶ what do we feel! | 🥢 join the taglist 🥢 | masterlist

a/n: thank you all for being so patient as i work through this! it was originally supposed to be a oneshot, but i like, need characters to get to know and learn about one another before heading into spice lmao. I NEED PLOT OK. THERE WILL BE LOTS OF SMUT I PROMISE DSHFKDSF we just gotta get through the slow burn first >:)) a/n 2: if there's something you liked about this or a line/scene/whatever thing you enjoyed, feel free to let me know! feedback is never expected, but always appreciated. if the interest level is high, that adds motivation like no other. thank you all for reading! ++ feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ more links: ⇥ masterlist  ⇥ minted masterlist (coming soon!)

[m1ckeyb3rry]

LMAOO tumblr really said f u…but glad it worked out either way but I seriously need to find a better system for remembering if I actually sent something in or not….hmm….

Anyways hope your flight was nice!! And omg NOO the migraine :(( hope it goes away soon! I wish I had some tips or remedies but I honestly can’t remember anything that was super effective…..

Karasu serving as usual!! No because the Karasu nagi content from epinagi lately is fire like thank you for saving us in the drought that is the PxG match!!

First rin now ISAGI I saw your post and oh my god I was kinda shocked but then again I think we’ve mentioned this possible scenario at some point before so maybe it was just a matter of time….bro atp you’re gonna be providing more content for Kiyora than kaneshiro is you might as well just adopt him as your oc LMAOOO (I think your blog really just has manifestation powers atp let’s just face it)

I’m genuinely laughing my ass off (needed to write it all out for emphasis) at the “karasu anon requests (any)” LMFAOOOOOO but PAUSEEE SINGING READER KARASU??? That sounds very interesting!!!!! WAIT A DAMN MINUTE CHERRY TREE PT 2??? Sign me tf up part one slapped so hard

Also wait riding lesson right when you got back from vacation WITH jet lag AND a migraine??? You’re truly built different I can’t even wake up at a decent time after traveling between time zones ok but Karasu bfb was a JOURNEY LMAOO I’m also never getting over that wc it’s insane

Shidou would go wild for Karasu’s sus comments LMAO adding Otoya to the mix would be so chaotic HAHAHA also someone needs to save yuki asap fr

LMAOOO Karasu truly the only thing holding PxG together esp since Loki probably does not care about the dynamics of the team beyond winning and Charles’ growth

Lukewarm is honestly the perfect word for it…but wait ok speaking did you see the chapter….because wtf….im ngl i still haven’t caught up fully with whatever happened after the yuta gojo freaky Friday but what just came out was wild

SHSHS thats actually so annoying….hopefully it gets resolved soon! Im not super well versed in the topic but have you looked into it being something like vertigo? Or is it till more likely the side effects thing? Either way hope that and your migraine goes away soon and doesn’t come back!!

Anyways I’m gonna go read your latest post and try not to convert to kaiserism (I probably won’t but it should prove for some more uhhhh clearheaded commentary (??) than if I was fully invested in the character too and not just your writing LOL)

- Karasu anon

FR like it all linked up and that’s what matters in the end 🤩 hm ik for me personally when i’ve finished smth and i have it in my notes app i put a little green checkmark emoji next to it?? so maybe once you’ve sent an ask in you could put a green check on the note or smth 🤔

icl the flight was kinda crazy my brother and i were judging the pilot HEAVILY because the landing was kinda bad 😭 we’ve both been flying since we were like 6 months old so we’re very used to planes and whatnot LMAOO we can even tell what went wrong…as soon as the guy started landing we were texting each other like “omg he didn’t descend enough in the air now he has to take the landing too high and he’s going to hit the runway too hard 🙄” “negative aura for the pilot fr” (second text was obviously my brother FJDKDJS he is nothing but a teenage boy through and through)

HAHAHA PLSSS no because i’ve always considered isagi boring because where is the angst potential?? but then i realized that he (and yukimiya who kinda falls into the same boat) are very very yuta okkotsu coded 😳 so like where the angst with characters such as karasu and nagi is the fact that the feelings are there but never quite acknowledged/understood in time, the angst with isagi and yuki and characters like that is that no matter how hard you cling to someone and love them there’s sometimes extenuating circumstances that just tear you apart and there’s nothing you can do abt it (ex all of the dying and whatnot that happened in pomegranate ink…like for the majority of the story reader and yuta are in a relationship but they just can’t be together because of the bs going on in their world) 😰 they’re definitely characters that work better in an au though because in a modern setting they are just too healthy and normal…okay also i’m realizing that me being bored by personality types that i’m supposedly most compatible with might have smth to do with why i’ve never been in a relationship irl 😓 JFKSKS

nah because watch me write a beautiful layered complex kiyora and then all of a sudden my little fun facts abt him appear in the manga or a possible ln 🤨 going to be raising some eyebrows and asking which of my followers is secretly kaneshiro at that point LMAOAOA

HAHA i’m probably going to give your idea posts special tags and then that way i can go back and reference them when i’m in dry spells!! but for now i’ll probably do one of the ideas from each post just so i can clear my inbox LMAOAO i’m going to have to go through and see which characters i’m feeling when i get to them 🤩 and yes the request is for a reader who’s good at singing but shy abt it!! it’s probably going to be on the shorter side (like the isagi ones) but yk my track record with saying that 😭 ALSO YOU HEARD RIGHT CHERRY TREE PT 2!! it’s going to take place when rin goes and finds the reader again after the world cup like he says he will 🥹 so much more of a time skip than instrument pt2 🫣 but i’m excited to write it!! rn i’m working on the nagi req because he’s #bae but cherry tree pt2 might be next 😳 trying to take a break from karasu so i don’t feel like i’m writing the same thing over and over LMAOAAO i’ve written quite a lot for him recently (aka bfb) so i’m switching it up and writing for other characters for a bit 🤩 i have not abandoned karasu nation though trust i will return just taking a second to do my duties to the rest of the fandom 🙏🏻

LMAOOO i’m always on my grind 😩 i missed the pony i ride so i had to go back fr 🙏🏻 tbh it was a struggle getting there but my lesson was pretty good so it all worked out in the end!!

THAT’S WHAT I’M SAYING like shidou and karasu are actually two peas in a pod it’s insane to me that no one else has picked up on their duo potential 😟 i need them to be besties and a trio with otoya would be insane JFKSDJSJ yukimiya needs friends fr 😭 like poor guy doesn’t even have a canonical bestie in bllk…i’m trying to think of people without a set “duo” that he could be paired up with 🤔 like kunigami has chigiri, isagi has bachira + rin + barou, reo has nagi, and most of the other characters feel like they’re too young to be super close with him (like hiori and all)…maybe gagamaru?? actually that would be crazy because apparently gagamaru thinks one of his strengths is his good eyesight and we all know what’s going on with yukimiya’s eyes 😓 i can’t think of anyone else who’s definitely staying in the manga that doesn’t already have a bff though 😟

yes i did see the new chapter!! honestly idk how i feel abt it…i think it was just done weirdly 🤔 like a lot of people are defending the situation and saying it makes sense/is supposed to be a shock factor thing and while i can definitely see the appeal of that it still doesn’t feel cohesive to me?? like okay she’s back in the last five chapters it just doesn’t sit well for ME considering how important she’s supposed to be 😕 i’m sure people will say i have no reading comprehension or media literacy or wtvr for thinking that but maybe i’m also just sensitive because she’s a female character so i think it’s annoying she was dead for most of the story and then suddenly she’s relevant again randomly?? like to me that is not how you should develop a character especially when you already are on such thin ice with writing women 😰 also again i can see the shock factor aspect but in my opinion an author should not be out to surprise their readers just to say “gotcha 😏” yk?? like if nobara was going to come back it should’ve been done in a way that felt more natural than her just randomly springing up LMAOAOA i’m not saying she should or shouldn’t have shown up earlier in the FIGHT just that it didn’t feel as exciting to me as it could’ve because it didn’t feel earned or deserved 😬 but this is top ten opinions i’ll never share in the public because the jjk fandom WILL jump on me and say i can’t read and blah blah blah 🙄 listen like i said idm her coming back it’s just the execution was off to me!! but also maybe i’d be more hype if i was still super into jjk like i used to be 😔 truly atp i’m just reading to keep up with it and know what happens…maybe one day in the future i’ll go back and binge read the whole manga at once and maybe it’ll feel much more cohesive then!! but we’ll see

sadly i have no clue what it could be 😓💔 but fingers crossed it resolves itself soon 😩 and EEK not kaiserism…i had a brief dip into it because he’s just very easy to write about in literally any au but he’s not a character i can stay passionate abt for very long LMAOAOA like he’s not rlly one of my favs even though i don’t mind him that much