#i’m so devastated to hear all of those things. it’s the least of what you deserve my friend :(

[tainsan]

misfits (college!ateez x reader)

When your world comes crashing down, the only people who are able to comfort you are the notorious group, Ateez. You’ve heard rumour after rumour about the eight males who are ice cold, yet for some reason, they are the warmest people you know.

Please read me: {hello! so finally i have wrote enough for me to release the first chapter and i really hope it is good enough for the lovely people who have been patiently waiting. there will be more chapters to come in the future so please do look forward to them! just so you all know there is a few trigger warnings i have to go through so just in case you are uncomfortable with certain subjects to read with caution and with your own comfort in mind. at the start of every chapter i will put the warnings that correlate with the said chapter. in this story there are topics of swearing, depression, anxiety, ptsd, suicide, negelection and mental abuse. so if you are not comfortable reading these please either avoid this story or read with extreme caution. your wellbeing is more important than anything. 

Now like i said in my previous post, this is going to be a poly!ateez story so hence there will be future smut and suggestive themes (which i will also put in the warnings before the chapter starts) but the message in the story is very much about past trauma and finding people who can help, heal and love you despite your imperfections.

With that all said! I hope you enjoy the first chapter of ‘Misfits’ and thank you kindly for waiting. 

do not steal my work or repost on places other than tumblr. 

with thanks to @musicdork and @moraxology for the help and ideas shared with me. thank you <3

-----THIS IS AN 18+ FANFICTION MINORS DO NOT INTERACT-----

Misfits, Chapter 1

⇢ masterlist ⇠ 

⇢ next chapter

warnings: anxiety attack, swearing, mentions of a house fire.

word count: 8.8k

Heart dropping to your stomach, you attempt to make sense of the words that are displayed on the small illuminating screen sat in front of you. Devastation hits you like a ton of bricks as you realise once again, it feels like the world is trying to punish you. Reading over the email once again, you let out an exasperated groan and let your head fall down onto your arms relaxing on the table.

“You’re homeless?” Your best friend almost screeches, scanning over the email present on your small laptop screen. 

“Okay a little louder Jisung and the aliens on the Saturn will fucking hear you,” You react, your voice muffled by your clothes.

“What happened? I thought your place was in one of the nicer areas?” 

Looking up from the desk, you see Jisung peering at you with a concerned expression.

“Do you remember those new tenants that moved in below me?” you ask, causing Jisung to nod his head, "Well they accidentally started a fire, and it burnt down half of the place because the owners weren’t smart enough to install fire hydrants around the residence.

“Isn’t it illegal to not have designated fire hydrants in a building?” 

“Probably, I mean that’s what I get for going for the cheapest available housing I could find, they say it's going to take at least a year to repair the damage.”

"Are all of your belongings okay?" 

"Not really, I managed to save most things like my books and some clothes but everything else is burnt. They say they are going to give me some money back for the damage, but I doubt it’ll be much."

"Then where are you staying now?"

"Yeji said I could stay with her for a few days, but she has a roommate moving in soon, so I have to get out before the end of this week."

"You have to start looking for a place to live __, I wish I could help you," 

Jisung lives with his boyfriend and friends in great student accommodation, there are only four rooms, yet they manage to fit eight grown men in there. Sadly, there's simply not enough space for another person.

“I’m aware of that, but all the school properties are full, and I’ve seen no flyers from people searching for roommates. There’s no way I'm looking for housing outside of the area, I would have to sell both my kidneys to afford a month's worth of rent. This apartment was the only place that was in my budget if I didn't want a roommate. At this point, I should probably start looking for a nice cosy bridge to live under.” 

Jisung lets out a stifled laugh before quickly covering his mouth realising the two of you are residing in a library. Being in a secluded area, noise isn’t really a problem, yet three other people are sitting near you, resting on the opposite side of the large wooden table. Two huddled next to each other, sharing a laptop, likely watching YouTube and one with striking blonde hair resting his head on his arms, undoubtedly sleeping.

“How many days until you have to move out?” Jisung inquires, laying his head on his hand and gazing at you. 

“Uh, I think like a week,” 

“Oh, so it’s not like you have to move out right now,” your best friend replies, a calm smile covering his features.

“Yeah, but I doubt that somebody is abruptly going to need a roommate out of nowhere,” 

Then, you hear rustling, then suddenly the guy who was sleeping on your table abruptly stands up, grabs his things, and rushes out of the library. 

“Probably had a nightmare or something,” Jisung chuckles, lighting up your mood.

“When’s your next lesson?” You ask, hoping he doesn't have to leave too soon. 

Observing as Jisung whips out his phone and looks at the time, he lets out a sigh.

“Starts in seven minutes, it takes like five minutes to walk there. I better get going,” Jisung replies, grabbing his books and laptop.

“Must you leave so soon? You can’t leave me here to tutor for three hours straight.” You let out a fake cry and hang onto his arm, pleading for him to stay. 

“You're the one who wanted the extra credit, don't blame me!” 

Bickering for a minute more, you eventually let Jisung get to his class, the two others across the table departing as well, leaving you alone.

Grumbling to yourself, you wonder why you even offered to tutor people, the extra credit is little to nothing. Alas, it’s too late to back out now as you have two people arriving soon. Typically, you only take people who you know personally, but Jisung’s boyfriend, Minho, said two of his classmates requested him to ask you to tutor, telling him they really needed assistance in maths. You hope they are pleasant because you are not about to be spending the next three hours with two arseholes.

You also typically only take one person at a time but due to your current tight schedule, you decided to just do two at once. You need the time later to look for new places to live anyway. The unknown two needed teaching in the same subject at least, works out fine.

Returning to your laptop you start typing, trying to finish as much of your lab report as you can before they show up.

“No Yeosang said she was around this corner.” 

A hushed voice breaks you out of your concentration, yet you pay no interest and hurriedly get back to typing.

“You’re __ right?” A monotone voice speaks out from your left.

You turn upon hearing your name and see a guy standing next to where you are sitting. Quickly you scan over his face, noticing the way his cheeks display small dimples as his face shifts and the slit in one of his eyebrows.

“I’m San, Minho told you about us, right?” 

Noting the way he said ‘us’, you turn fully backwards and see a noticeably built man standing by San, his face holding little to no emotion as he stares blankly towards you. In your mind, you hope these aren’t the two you are tutoring, noticing how intimidating their presence is.

“We are here for tutoring lessons,” the unnamed person speaks, and you curse upon your luck.

“Oh right, you can take a seat where you’d like.”

You mentally cuss out Minho for not informing you about how intense and handsome his classmates were, you let out a scoff under your breath as you start to pull out your maths textbooks.

“So, what were your guy's names, I’m not too good with names so if I forget, please don't take it personally,” you shyly confess, hoping they are not going to take it the wrong way. You detect the way some sort of stunned expression goes across their faces, but it disappears as soon as it had appeared.

“I’m Choi San, good to meet you.” San nods in your direction, his emotions still unreadable, a subtle glare still present along his features.

“San, I see. You too,” You mumble, slightly scared by his strong character. You attempt a small smile and shake his hand, trying to ignore the way you feel his eyes boring into your skull. Moving your attention to the man sitting next to him, you smile gently, noticing the way his cheeks are dusted with a light pink colour.

“Choi Jongho,” He reaches out his hand and you gladly take it, feeling slightly less intimidated by the seemingly kinder man.

Replying with your own name, you realise they already knew it, making you curse yourself for the sheer awkwardness emitting from your body as you notice Jongho and San are neither looking at you.

Slightly glancing up at you, San notices your flustered state and a faint smile ghosts his face.

Shaking off your clumsiness rapidly, you start to focus on the task at hand.

“So, what are you two looking to go over today?” you ask, opening your notebook that was conveniently placed in front of you. What you don’t expect is Jongho and San immediately look at each other with wide eyes, almost as if they are taken aback by the question.

“You guys don’t know what you want to go over?” 

“No, sorry, we have been having problems with our two recent algebra assignments.” Jongho replies, his tough exterior cracking ever so slightly as he ruffles his black hair. 

“Okay then,” you answer, a little puzzled at the two's sudden and strange gestures, yet you pay no mind to it as you reach into your backpack to grab your mathematics textbook. You’ve seen much stranger things in this college anyway.

When you proceed with the session you are surprised by the two men sitting in front of you. Although being very intimidating, the two are very good listeners and attentive to everything you say or do. Writing notes and nodding at almost every word you say. After an extensive explanation, you let Jongho and San try to solve a practice question. During this time, you take the time to admire the two in front of you. You can see they are extremely close by the way their bodies face each other naturally, and the way they look at each other. Meanwhile, you can’t help but wonder why you haven't seen them on campus before. Certainly, you would've heard or seen something about these two very good-looking men, knowing how much the people here like to gossip. Well after all, you have never been one for gossip and fangirling over the popular campus heartthrobs. Brushing your thoughts to the side, you start to read over the same page for the fifth time.

After the second hour, it intrigues you how smart they are, only needing you to once go over something and they already have the answer or even occasionally you swear you see one of them write an answer without you describing how to find it. Perhaps they are fast learners? Due to the fact, they are so quick, it only takes two of the three hours for you to cover everything they wished to go over, and their assignments are almost finished, just needing the final touches.

"There we go,” you exclaim, stretching your arms over your head, letting out a content groan as you let your back straighten up, "if you need future help, you can always call me." Even though it’s perhaps pretentious to offer this to such tough guys, you’re happy to be able to have such good students who actually listen. Unlike your last session which you spent way too many hours on.

Jongho looks up from his laptop with a wide eye look, "that’d be helpful," 

"Can you take my number?" San holds his hand open, expecting your phone and you are shocked at his utter forwardness. Even though you know it’s not intended in a flirtatious way, your heart quickens at the gesture, never having been asked for your number before. 

Passing your phone to the male in front of you, you notice San observing the Sanrio stickers stuck to the back of it. The male lets out a short burst of air through his nose, and you don’t know whether he’s mocking you or scoffing. As you look at him to analyse his reaction, you see a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips, but it doesn’t seem in a taunting way. You continue staring at him as he puts his number into your phone.

Unexpectedly he looks up and straight into your investigating eyes, catching you by surprise, immediately looking away from him and at the open book in front of you pretending to read it, even though you know he knows you have already read over the page multiple times in the past ten minutes.

“Wait, what time is it?" Jongho asks San. Watching San pull out his phone, you see a glimpse of his phone case, it looks something like a character, but you can’t see it as he places his phone face up on the table.

"Quarter to twelve," San responds, his phone screen lighting up for a split second, you manage to catch a quick sight of his lock screen. It appears to be a group photo, with numerous faces smiling brightly at the camera. So, they have more friends.

"We have about thirty minutes till ecology, do you want to go to the canteen?" Jongho questions as he begins to put his belongings into his bag. 

"I could use a snack,” San answers, stretching back into the chair, his arms above his head just as you did earlier.

"Coming with us?" Jongho asks as he stands up from his chair and pushes it back beneath the table.

Bewildered by the question, you wonder as to why they want you to come when they have been nothing but distant this entire time. Glancing back at your unfinished lab report displayed on your laptop, you feel conflicted. Yet a break from the tedious work would be rather nice. There's no harm in pulling another all-nighter.

"I could also do with something to eat," Your smile is bright as you stuff your laptop into your bag, happy to have a reason to escape the tedious work on the small screen of your laptop. 

It is a rather fast walk to the canteen; it is conveniently on the same wing as the library. Expecting the canteen to be full to the brim of students getting lunch, you’re surprised to see the canteen completely empty. You are rather pleased with the serenity of the canteen, feeling at ease that there are no judging eyes watching your every move. Pacing over to the cooled section of food, your footsteps echo in the large room, then you notice San and Jongho trailing after you, looking quite lost. 

"Have you guys never been to the canteen before or something?" You inquire, chuckling at their antics before grabbing a carton of banana milk and an apple.

"It's not particularly our scene, we eat our meals at our place." San answers, staring down at the banana milk in your hand. So, they live together, it makes sense seeing how close they are.

“You guys don't live in student buildings?” You question, that does explain why you've never seen them around, knowing most people who reside in the student dorms. You resume walking towards a table to sit, you grab two more banana milk before sitting down and popping a straw into your drink.

"No, we live near the new park, Eastwood Drive," Jongho replies.

This information almost makes you spit out your drink. Eastwood is not only part of a huge real estate area but one of the richest areas near our school. Absolutely no students would be able to afford that. It's an area full of houses like mansions or condos bigger than a regular house.

"Are you okay?" Jongho asks, hurriedly rushing to your side and patting your back, San chuckles at the scene and passes you a bottle of water from his seat. 

"Yes, I'm fine," You say between coughs, "thank you," you take a gulp of water from the bottle before handing it back to him.

"Sorry it's just, how on earth do you afford that house there's no way you guys just have it. Did you have to sell your soul to the devil or something?" 

Both males let out soft laughs and for the first time you see something other than scowls on their faces, instead replaced by gentle amusement.

"No, we didn't, one of our roommates' mothers is the owner of the real estate and she lets us live there," San answers your question.

"We do still have to pay rent, which is above average, but it's not anything like the rent we would have to pay if we were actually living there," Jongho adds, "plus we have quite a few roommates, so it's spread out pretty evenly." So, they have multiple roommates.

"I see," you hum as you let the information in. Of course, they have several roommates, the house is big enough for ten people, most likely. 

"And you?" Jongho questions looking at you. His expression is back to his resting face, until he realises his question, eyes going wide he continues, “not in a creepy, I'm sorry please don't take it the wrong way!" he rambles on. 

Laughing out, you wave your hands in a friendly way to dismiss his thoughts.

"No no, it's okay," you chuckle, not really sure how to explain to them that your house was recently made into a fresh stock of charcoal.

“It's kind of complicated I'll be honest," you start, San and Jongho’s expressions twitch in curiosity, "Well I was living at Coast Lane," 

"Oh, the one near the shopping centre?" Jongho inquires. You nod your head back in confirmation.

"Wait but wasn't that place burnt down a few days ago?" San asks, looking at Jongho and then back at you with a worried look. Their hearts fill with worry for you.

"Yep," you say, popping the p at the end, "that's why I said I was living," you say looking down, chucking dryly.

"Where are you living now then?" San asks, his voice laced with something similar to worry. 

"I'm staying at a friend's house, but they are getting a new roommate at the end of this week, so I need to move out by then." 

"Have you found anywhere to live yet?" Jongho questions, looking sorrowful. You are surprised by the amount of worry you suddenly feel from San and Jongho. However, you shake your head as 'no' and proceed to take another sip of your drink. 

"I have an idea." San abruptly says standing up from his chair, catching your and Jongho's attention, "Excuse me I have to talk to someone, Jongho. Joong." 

Jongho's eyes light up with some sort of awareness and he also rapidly stands from his chair, leaving you even more confused, unsure where the sudden energy comes from, you also wonder who the fuck 'Joong' is and why do they need to see him so suddenly. 

"See you soon, __.” Jongho’s smile is warm and contagious, he then turns to leave with the taller man.

"Wait, guys!” You exclaim, "here," you hand them both a cartoon of banana milk that you grabbed earlier. "Drink these, you can't focus if you're dehydrated, " you say, heat rising up from your chest. 

Both of the men look at you shocked at the kind gesture, surprised someone actually cares about their well-being. Giving you a thank you, the two men leave with red subtly covering their cheeks, both trying to immediately force it away before someone sees them with a giddy expression.

 ----

"Then they just stood up and left," You replay the events from earlier today to Jisung, who is sipping on a mojito. After the busy day you both shared, Jisung and you decided to go to a bar that recently opened not too far from campus. It is small and cosy, not too full of people, mostly students from your school rewinding from the day, just like you.

"Psycho behaviour," Jisung jokes whilst you take a sip of your drink. Laughing, you push Jisung's arm gently.

"I don't know, they were certainly intimidating but I could tell they were okay people," you exclaim truthfully. If you said that the three hours you spent with the two weren't pleasant you’d be lying.

"Do you have a crush on them or something?" Jisung inquires, rather loudly, getting far too excited. Hoping that no one heard him through the low jazz music resounding in the small bar, you quieten down your best friend quickly by covering his mouth with your free hand.

"Ji the entire bar does not need to know about my personal endeavours, and no I do not have a crush on them, they are just simply cute," you say exasperated.

“So, you do find them cute! The last time you had a crush as back in high school, this is big news,”

“There is no news dumbass, they are just cute. I find kittens cute, and I don’t want to date them.”

Jisung’s face contorts into a mixture of disgust and humour.

"Wait, what are their names?" Jisung questions his voice back to a reasonable volume.

"Choi San and Choi Jongho, I've never even heard of them, to be honest. You'd think I would've seen these handsome men bef, what is with that look on your face?" you stop your ramble as you see the very obviously shocked look on Jisung's face. 

"Are you fucking serious?" Jisung says slowly.

Confused, you simply answer, "yeah they needed help with maths. it was your boyfriend who set the tutor session up."

"Yeah, because they probably threatened him?" Jisung says tensing up.

"What do you mean threatened, they were huge sweethearts," you say amused at Jisung. Your laughing momentarily halts when you see the serious look on Jisung's small face.

"What is it?" 

"___, Choi San and Choi Jongho are part of that group." 

Your baffled expression remains on your features, clearly unfazed by this information.

"What is that like a cult or something?" you joke.

"Girl, are you living under a fucking rock? Ateez, the group called Ateez. The super scary ones practically haunt this school. I'm surprised they talked to Minho. I'm pretty sure he's going to be scarred now."

Slowly but surely, your brain starts to put things into place.

"Wait, that group Sola told us about?”

As Jisung confirms your question, you feel the hairs on the back of your neck rise. A few months ago, you had been told by some classmates about them briefly, they were talking rather loudly about them. Apparently, they had done some terrible things when they were in high school then just disappeared for a few years. Most people thought they dropped out or moved abroad. The year they returned, they started this university out of nowhere together and have been a notorious group ever since, being known for staying foul and bitter towards everyone except themselves. Yet, nobody seems to know the reason for their ice-cold hearts. You never really bothered to keep up with the rumours or gossip, it wasn’t necessary for you to know, however you start to think maybe you should pay more attention due to your recent interaction with two of the people in the group.

"But they were nice?" your question, more to yourself than to Jisung.

"I don't know about you, but you probably got the wrong people." 

You don't believe Jisung is lying but at the same time… The two men you had tutored earlier today were definitely not members of the notorious group. 

Surely not. 

Yes, they were intimidating, but nowhere near as bad as anything people say about them. From what you've heard about the group, they are cold, heartless, selfish, and miserable. Staying only in the group of eight, others not even daring to look them in the eyes as they pass them.

"If they were the people that you were tutoring yesterday, you may have gotten yourself into something you can't get out of. They have hundreds of fangirls, who are very possessive over them and people who want them dead. I don’t know of a single person who is fond of them. It’s best if you stay far away from them." Jisung says with a nervous expression. 

Unexpectedly, his phone lights up and you see Minho's caller ID appear. Jisung glances back up at you with a questioning look, requesting if he can take it.

"Go ahead," you push your smile and watch as he leaves to find a quiet place.

Your heart beats heavily against your chest and you feel your throat tighten. ‘Come on’ you think, this isn't the best place for you to have an anxiety attack. Possibly, it's that the new information is far too overwhelming. You are barely keeping up with your classes, your apartment just burnt down, and now you’re somewhat engaged with an apparently dangerous group that has no good stories. Feeling your breathing getting jagged and your heart getting heavier by the second, you attempt to focus on your breathing. Trying to remember the breathing exercises your mother taught you when you were younger, you attempt breathing in deeply, but it doesn't work, leaving you to breathe in and out in a fast manner. It's okay, it's okay. You repeat yourself, in an attempt to comfort yourself, but your brain is yelling 'it's not okay, look how stupid you've been and got yourself into a senseless situation again. Fucking idiot'. You put your head in your hands and start gently rocking on the barstool, tears threatening to fall out of your eyes. Unexpectedly, a presence appears next to you and before you know it, their warm hand is rubbing up and down your back in a soothing manner. 

"Shh it's okay, it's all going to be okay." a deep voice speaks from your right. You don't care to look up, only basking in the way the figure's hand caresses your back in a comforting way. To your surprise, it works miracles. Your breathing is back to a reasonable state within the next minute. Only then do you look up from your hands, your eyes lock with a beautiful man. He wears a comforting smile, his eyes full of sympathy and something else you can't quite put your finger on, his hand not slowing on your back. Trying to smile back at him, you wipe the tears you didn't even know had fallen, with the sleeves of your sweatshirt before regaining the words to speak.

"I'm sorry you had to see that," you say, abruptly embarrassed that a very handsome man just had to see a small breakdown of yours. 

"It's perfectly okay. I've had enough anxiety attacks to know you can't control where you have them." the man admits, scratching the back of his neck with an awkward smile on his face. The voice of the man is deep, yet soft, making you feel awfully relaxed.

"You have anxiety?" you ask, sniffling your nose.

The man chuckles and looks down at his hands, "longer than I can remember, yeah," he looks back up at you, "rubbing my back is how my friends comfort me, so I hope it somewhat worked for you too." 

"It worked amazingly, it's actually how my mother used to comfort me," you express, still slightly ashamed to be sharing this information with a stranger, let alone such a good-looking one. Yet knowing he goes through the same things as you, comforts you more than you realise. The male looks around him, almost as if he’s worried someone will see him, he then looks back down to your smaller figure which is closer to him than he remembered. Clearing his throat, he steps away a little bit, concerned you would feel uncomfortable with the closeness of your bodies. 

“I do need to go now, but it was nice to meet you," The man says whilst leaving the barstool to your right. Not sure why, but you feel sad that he has to leave so soon. Feeling so relaxed around a stranger has you shocked, wishing you could stay with this unknown feeling.

"Thank you," you say, grateful to have him there for you.

"Anytime.”

"I’ll see you around." You return his smile.

Nodding his head, he gives one last smile before departing the bar's exit, a growing smile adorning his features as he exits the bar.

“Hey I’m back.”

Whipping your head to the left, you see Jisung sitting back in his stool. Opening your mouth to tell him about what just happened, you attempt to get the words out but for some reason, you are unable to find the words. Not wanting to worry your best friend with your sudden onset anxiety attack, you decide to stay quiet.

What are these unexplainable encounters you've been having with handsome men recently?

----

Climbing over bags and coats, you find a seat in a calmer area of the stadium you just arrived at. Spotting Minho in the field doing some warm-ups with his team, you feel relaxed to see someone you know. When he sees you, he waves happily. Smiling, you reach for your phone to quickly text Jisung asking where he is. All of a sudden, a rush of cold air gets swept in by the wind, causing you to freeze up. Never liking the cold, you debate heavily at this moment whether you should just leave. However, you travelled all the way from Yeji’s to here in the cold. It seems like a waste to just go back, even if it freezes you to death to stay. After all, you need to support Minho, him being one of your only friends, for the football game. Jisung is supposed to be joining you but you’re sure he's busy picking out a cute outfit to swoon Minho. 

Over the past few days Jisung has been trying to teach you the names of Ateez so you know to run if they approach you. Seemingly stupid, but you do need fewer distractions in the hope to graduate with honours. From what Jisung has told you, there are eight members, and they are all of similar age, the youngest being in the same classes as he managed to skip a year due to him exceeding the level of people his age. However, Jisung teaching you their names doesn’t really stick to you, never being good at names it doesn’t help that you don’t know what they look like. It would be much easier learning their names if you actually had photos so you can put a name to a face, but of course they don’t have Instagram accounts, and if they saw people taking photos of them, they’d likely murder you on the spot. Or that’s what Jisung says.

You are suddenly brought out of your thoughts when a voice sounds in your ears.

“Could I sit here?” a soft, yet deep captivating voice speaks out. 

Curiously, you look to your left to see who the owner of the voice is. Surprisingly, you see a blonde male with a mask covering his face. He is standing next to the seat where you have placed your bag, and you realise he is asking for the seat.

“Oh yes, of course, sorry,” you hurriedly grab your bag and place it between your legs, allowing the male to take a place next to you.

“Thank you,” he says, a very small smile on his lips. When he sits down, he takes off his mask, and you glance at him one more time, taking in his visuals. With his fluffy hair and red tinted cheeks and a small mark of pink next to one of his eyes, he is truly a work of art. Yet, for some reason, you can't help but feel like you've seen him before.

“I'm sorry have I met you before, you seem really familiar?” you ask inquisitively, not being able to match a name to a face.

“We may have run into each other once or twice,” the blonde male puts his hand out for a handshake.

Gladly taking his hand in yours, you shake with a small smile on your face.

“It is a small world, I'm __.” 

The male takes his hand away and back into his coat pocket, shivering in the icy air.

“Are you Jisung's girlfriend?” he questions.

Rolling your eyes, slightly annoyed at the question, you go to answer. It has been thousands of times that people have asked about your and Jisung's relationship, mistaking you for a couple and not just a couple of friends. After a while it gets rather irritating, the question being asked countless amounts of times.

"No, we aren't, we are just best friends, I'm pretty sure Jisung came out as gay like two years ago. Plus, he's literally dating the quarterback, Lee Minho." you chuckle slightly.

"Oh sorry! I didn't mean to offend you in any way." 

"No! It's really okay, it's just I get asked a lot, so it becomes annoying after a while. I mean look at Jisung, he has baby girl written all over him." 

“Cold?” he questions.

The blondie next to you lets out a small chuckle acknowledging the man you are always with isn’t your boyfriend.

Sensing a gaze on you, you turn back to the blonde male whose eyes are looking at the goosebumps on your exposed arms.

“I probably should’ve brought at least a jumper. I've been so wrapped up with exams and tutoring I’ve been forgetting everything,” you say, laughing slightly, embarrassed that you went outside wearing just a t-shirt in the middle of November.

The male lets out a laugh before speaking, “it’s okay, I understand. If I’m being honest, I've also been having so much struggle with studying, my stress is all over the place.” He wonders for a second why he even shared this with you, concerned for a second you will see him in a bad light.

“I'm sorry to hear that.” you contemplate for a moment, “Look I have these if you want,” reaching into your pocket, you grab some rescue drops. “These help me a lot,”

You place the small bottle in his hand, and a giant smile covers his face. “What? I’ve actually been looking for these everywhere and I can never find them! They’ve been sold out in every shop.” Blondie looks back up at you, “but you have anxiety you need these more than me,” 

Pausing for a second, you wonder how he knows you have anxiety, nonetheless, you continue “It’s perfectly fine, Jisung’s parents work at a pharmacy back in my hometown and they send me a few of these whenever they are in stock, you can keep them.” you inform him, his smile brightening your cold mood shockingly fast. You’re not even sure why you gave him them, it was your last bottle. You guess that’s what happens when you are a people pleaser. The smile on the male’s face only grows wider, his heart jumping at your kind action.

“Thank you so much __,”

“It’s no worries, if you ever need some more, look for the loud group of small guys acting like four-year-olds.” you laugh, and he chuckles along with you, making a mental note, even though he knows he will likely never approach the group.

Before you can focus back on the starting game, you feel a soft material cover your shivering body. It is a large zip-up that smells of rich, sweet perfume. Turning quickly to the blonde guy with confusion covering your features, you hurriedly dismiss the action, seeing his arms exposed to the winter air.

“I can’t take this; you’ll get too cold.” you stop your words as he pulls out another sweater from his bag. 

“I've got my friend’s sweater, you keep mine until you’re warm.” he turns to face the game, "or until Jisung sees and freaks out and tells everyone you have a secret boyfriend." he jokes.

“You seem to know Jisung?” you ask, wondering how he knows Jisung’s personality quite well.

“Well, we know each other, but we aren’t particularly friends,” blondie turns fully towards you, “are you sure you don’t know me at all?”

“I'm sorry but I really only have like two friends, I don't really go out.” 

“But Jisung is super popular, aren't you in his huge partying friend group?”

“Not really, his friends are lovely but I’m only close with him and his boyfriend, I'm not too good at making friends.” you quietly mumble the last part. You look over at the blondie and see he has slight confusion on his face.

“You are so kind, I’m sure anyone would want to be your friend." 

"You’d be the first to think that" you dryly admit, which causes the male to feel a twinge of pain and guilt in his heart, "I would rather stay inside all-day binge-watching television whilst eating away my stress,"

"Well, that’s one thing we have in common." 

Sharing a warm smile with him, you start to get lost in your thoughts again, but then you realise a question you never returned.

“I’m so sorry I never got your name.”

“No worries, I’m Yeosang.” he has the same smile on his face, making you feel warm despite the bitter winter air. Then his familiarity dawns on you.

“Kang?” you inquire, your voice rising ever so slightly.

“That’s me,” he smiles at me, and you don't know if your heart rises because of how beautiful his smile is or because you recognise the name from Jisung’s teaching session with the members of Ateez.

“Like from Ateez,” you question, watching your words, if Ateez is as bad as Jisung is saying then you definitely need to watch your words.

Yeosang turns to you, almost looking baffled.

“I thought you didn't know about Ateez?” he questions, shocked.

“What made you think that?”

“Just a guess I suppose, being that you don't really go out I assumed you weren’t really interested in the groups and stuff.” 

“Ah well not particularly, but recently I suppose I’ve gotten to know about it better.”

“You're not scared, are you?” you see Yeosang tense up a little, his eyebrows furrowed. He hopes for the best, not knowing how you will react. Surprisingly, your heart softens at this question, he seems upset for some reason, as if he doesn't want to be seen this way. You feel bad for ever acting stressed towards him.

“Don't worry, the only person that scares me is Jisung when he's hungry.” you joke out, relaxing the tension and calming him. From what you can see, Yeosang is just kind and calm. The only thing that's menacing about him is the fact he’s drop-dead gorgeous.

Yeosang lets out a small chuckle, “well I guess now I know I need to avoid Jisung if he’s hungry,”

You agree with the blonde man, whilst lightly laughing.

“Wait, but why are you watching? Aren’t you supposed to be on the pitch?” You ask him, confused, remembering Jisung informing you that Yeosang is a part of one of the school's football teams, along with someone else whose name you can’t remember at the moment. For a moment Yeosang’s chest fills with pride, knowing you know something about him.

“Someone is taking my spot today, I was told to analyse the opposing team to find out their habits and stuff, hence the notepad.”

Looking down, you notice the small notepad with doodles all over the cover, making your heart swell. Yeosang continues to talk,

“Don’t tell my tactics to Minho,” he jokes with a grin on his face, knowing Minho is on the other team.

“I would never betray you like that,” you place your hand over your chest acting offended. 

Both cracking up, you speak up again, “don't worry, your secrets are safe with me.”

“Sang!” You hear a voice call from the left, and your eyes lay on another attractive man, “Coach told us to sit with him,” this male also has a notepad in his grip. 

You know this guy. He works in a small café not too far from campus, it is down a narrow alleyway, covered by vines and moss. It was a very hidden spot and only locals really knew the place. Only knowing it because you walked past it every day for a year as the alleyway was a shortcut to your housing from the campus. Barely anyone goes there, the regulars being either old women or businesspeople quickly rushing in to get a coffee before work starts. Back at the beginning of the semester, you used to go to the café a lot because of the raspberry muffins, yet they stopped selling them thus forth you stopped going as much. It was also due to the fact you had barely any time to sleep, so you cut it out of your morning schedule to be able to sleep in a little. You think the guy’s name was Wooyoung if you can remember his name tag correctly. You notice he sees you sitting next to Yeosang, with his friend’s hoodie over your shoulders and a smile consumes his entire face. 

“Muffin?” he looks confused, yet somewhat glad to see you once again. The nickname extremely takes you aback. “Why did you stop coming to the café?”

As far as you can recall, back when you visited the café, this server was rather distant and limited to saying little to no words whilst waiting. Seeing him like this confuses you severely. Alas, you let out a giggle and both of the boys' grins widen visibly.

“You two better get going, I'm not sure your coach wants to wait any longer.” 

Yeosang stands up and straightens out his pants before turning to you,

“Hopefully I’ll see you around.” he smiles warmly. Smiling back at him, you nod. Yeosang starts to leave with Wooyoung before he turns around.

“I better see you at the café tomorrow! Plus, that sweater looks good on you, Muffin.” he winks and Yeosang slaps the back of his head.  You can’t help but giggle yet feel flustered. 

Yeosang and Wooyoung walk towards the coach’s section, Yeosang slightly more affected than the male next to him. Hopefully he will get his hoodie back, and hopefully it will smell like you. After this interaction, your mind was even more confused. If you remember correctly, Yeosang and Wooyoung have a very big reputation for being some of the rudest and coldest towards people. Yet they were so friendly when you were with them. Is everything all these people are saying about them true or maybe the group of eight is just deeply misunderstood?

Whatever it is, you need to talk to Jisung about this, but you will wait until the game is over.

----

The night of the interaction between Yeosang and Wooyoung, Jisung, Minho and you reside at their apartment, eating chicken and watching a shitty romcom for background noise. The rest of his roommates are out celebrating the start of the football season. You have no idea why it started mid-way through November but okay.

“I said I would come; they were too sweet to say no to!” You exclaim, throwing your head back against the couch, regretting saying yes. 

“It was definitely Yeosang and Wooyoung?” Minho questions, not believing any part of my story.

“Yes! Yeosang has the birthmark next to his eye like Ji described and Wooyoung was the guy who works at that one café I used to go to all the time,”

“Well, I never knew Wooyoung worked at a café, that doesn't really match the hardcore scary image they are going for, are you sure you’re not going delusional?” Jisung admits, chuckling.

“What are you going to do?” Minho questions, passing you a drumstick. 

You take a big bite, before speaking, “I should just go, if I don't show up, they might murder me as you two say. Which is very unbelievable seeing how fucking cheerful they’ve all been.”

“Well, you’ve only met four, the rest are probably a nightmare,” Jisung says, his mouth full of chicken, Minho humming in agreement next to him.

“You two are supposed to be comforting me.” you groan, throwing your head into your hands. 

“Okay, don't worry __, if they have been as nice as you’ve been saying then just show up and if they aren't nice then call Chan and Changbin and I’m sure they will gladly sort them out for you.” Minho laughs.

 ----

Keeping your promise, you showed up at the café the next day. 

Opening the painted door, the bell rings notifying your entrance. Immediately you spot Wooyoung relaxing against the counter, scrolling through his phone, visibly bored. There are only a few people in the café, mostly reading books or typing on laptops. You see a flash of pink hair in the corner, yet you lose focus as quickly as you had it as you continue to walk further in.

“Welcome to Veranda Café,” Wooyoung says unbothered, still staring at his phone as you walk closer to where all the cakes were on display. Much to your dismay, you fail to see a raspberry muffin on display.

“I see you still don’t have any raspberry muffins.” You speak out in front of where Wooyoung is standing, making his head immediately snap up.

“__! I was starting to worry you weren't going to show up.” He exclaims, a contagious smile wide on his face. Immediately putting his phone in his pocket, giving his attention to you. He leans on the counter. Extremely happy you showed up.

“I never break my promises,” you grin at the black-haired man.

“Oh, one moment.” He speaks out excitedly, like a puppy, and turns to where he was sitting. Opening up a small fridge, he brings out the biggest, most beautiful raspberry muffin you have ever seen.

“Yeosang and I made this morning for you.” he gestures over to the corner, and you see the blonde male from yesterday, he is sitting next to someone, yet you can’t see them from where you’re standing. Yeosang shyly waves and you smile and wave back. Heart beating faster and cheeks warming up, you take the muffin happily. Wooyoung smiles brightly at you, feeling prideful at the way your eyes light up from the muffin.

“We stopped making these muffins because the owner didn’t think anyone was buying them, it made me upset because I knew you liked them,” Wooyoung says, making direct eye contact with you, making you weak at the knees. Wondering how he even remembered you, you still feel thankful he thought of you, even if it was a long time ago.

“It’s a shame but I'm sure there are lots of other tasty things here too. Anyways, thank you so much, you guys are the best.” you say, sincerity dripping in your words. Wooyoung just shrugs like he doesn't care, but the big smile on his face and the redness dusting his ears tells a different story.

“How much do I owe you?” you ask, getting out your purse.

Swiftly, Wooyoung grabs your hand halting its actions, “it’s on us, for being so kind, Yeosang and one of our friends really needed those rescue drops.” He lowers his voice, “between us, their anxiety has been really bad recently, and the stuff works wonders. Plus, you were always my favourite customer anyways.” Wooyoung admits, smiling, his cheeks get a deeper colour of red. Your heart warms up once again, which is strange to you. You haven't felt this happiness in a very long time. Maybe things are starting to get better. Happily taking the muffin, you make your way to Yeosang who is reading a book.

“Do you mind if I sit here?” you inquire, repeating his words from yesterday, yet when your eyes meet the figure sitting next to him, they light up as you recognise him.

“I know you!” You exclaim, a little too loudly, causing people around you to glare in your direction. Feeling overwhelmed by the sudden attention, you quickly sit down in a shielded area, away from all the glares. 

“You two know each other?” Yeosang asks, intrigued by your sudden remark.

“It is you, right?” you ask just in case you’re mistaking him for another pink-haired male.

The tall male smiles widely, “Yeah, it’s me. I’m Mingi,” he turns to Yeosang, who is visibly confused, “we met briefly in a bar the other day,” 

Yeosang lets out an ‘ah’ in realisation, yet you fail to see the jealous look he points at the pink haired man as he turns back to his book. Reaching for a dessert fork placed in the middle of the table, Mingi quickly grabs it and hands it to you. Quietly thanking him, you start to cut your muffin into four pieces. You acknowledge a gaze on you, so you halt your movements and look up, noticing Yeosang and Mingi’s eyes on you. Suddenly feeling awfully small, you start to feel your heartbeat rise and your breath deepen, never really liking people watching you eat, the stares from the two make you anxious. Luckily, they seem to immediately notice your change in behaviour and start apologising.

“I’m sorry, we will look away. We were just wondering whether you were going to like the muffin,” Mingi explains, his voice stumbling over words.

“It’s okay! I’m sorry, I’ve always been kind of awkward when people watch me eat.” you confess, your cheeks heating up. The two males nod trying to remember this information for the future. Instantly, the two men completely look away and focus on their own things, not paying any attention to you. Their antics make you giggle slightly, and you look back down at your muffin. Slowly, you pick up a quarter and place it on Mingi’s empty plate in front of him. You then do the same for Yeosang. They both look up at you with wide eyes.

“This is your favourite, we can't take it,” Yeosang says hurriedly, trying to put the cake back on your plate. 

“Stop, stop! I want to. I want to share it with my friends!” You blurt out before you can control your mouth. The wide eyes on both Yeosang and Mingi, make you realise what you said. You have to remember that even though they seem normal they are very clearly part of a group who apparently can kill people with their stare. What the hell are you doing? Of course, they aren’t your friends, you met them both once for less than ten minutes.

“Wait, I'm so sorry I didn't mean to say that I didn't intend to push your boundaries, we have only met like twice I didn't just assume we are friends!” You start to ramble, scared they will take it the wrong way, trying to fix your words as quickly as possible so you don’t get on their bad sides.

Before you can say anything more, Yeosang cuts you off by taking a bite of the muffin, “it tastes amazing! Thank you,”

“Woo!” Mingi’s voice calls out, ignoring the angry glares of people around him, “come get some cake!” Watching Wooyoung jump over the counter towards the three of you, you smile to yourself, glad you haven't done something that would cause future problems. Yeosang feeds Wooyoung the cake and makes an over-exaggerated reaction, “the flavours are melting on my tongue!” he exclaims in a funny voice, making Yeosang and Mingi cringe but you just laugh at his amusing antics. You can’t help but imagine how the whole group is when they are together. 

For the remainder of the hour, you are just conversing with Wooyoung and Mingi, sometimes Yeosang if he wants to add to the conversation, but more focusing on his book, yet looking up intently whenever you speak. You are broken out of your conversation as you hear the bell of the entrance ring, notifying the entrance of new customers. Wooyoung groans and stands up from his chair next to you. It seems to be three girls from our school. You recognise one of them from your calculus class.

Then the next thing that happens confuses you more than any other thing that has happened. As Wooyoung reaches the counter to take their order, his demeanour changes almost immediately, you would've missed it if you had blinked. 

Mingi and Yeosang seem to notice your confusion but blatantly ignore it, their smiles quickly disappearing from their faces. The atmosphere turns from warm and friendly to cold and foreign.

“What do you want?” Wooyoung asks bluntly. You furrow your eyebrows, confused out of your mind as to where the sweet friendly Wooyoung disappeared to.

“You know you should be nicer to your customers, it would help with business,” one of the girls speaks out, looking smug as if she has immensely hurt the man’s feelings.

“You should probably focus on your studies rather than going to cafes, sitting with a random document open and pretending to study when we all know you are miserably failing all your classes.” Wooyoung says monotone, whilst scrolling through his phone, not even looking at the three girls who now have shocked and offended looks on their faces. Some curses are thrown before the girls end up storming out of the café without even beginning to look at the menu. As soon as the girls leave, Wooyoung returns to the table nonchalantly, acting as if nothing had happened. Opening your mouth to say something, it gets caught in your throat before you get the words out.

Are you going insane?

{feedback is always appreciated and i love hearing from all of you. remember you are loved.} 

part two is out now!!!

[last-herondale]

Almost Pt. 2

Bucky POV (W/ FemReader)

Angst, heartbreak, sadness

Tw: some mild curse words

AN: Hellooooo. I had an idea for a part two! Two fics in one week? Who do I think I am? 😳 anyway here is Bucky’s point of view on what happened after part one! Will link below! Maybe this will be a new series? Idk feeling ambitious 🤣

Part 1

Part 3

Enjoy 🤘🏼

It had been six weeks since Steve’s party. Six agonizing weeks of silence. Forty-two days of not hearing your voice. One thousand and eight hours of not seeing you smile at my stupid jokes. Sixty thousand, four hundred, and eighty minutes of not seeing the light dance in your eyes whenever you saw me enter the room. Three million, six hundred thousand twenty eight, and eight hundred seconds since I saw you walk away from me during that party after confessing your love for me.

You said you needed time. I respected that. I understood that.

After you bared your soul to me, I told you what I thought you needed to hear. That I wasn’t good enough for you. That you deserved better. It was difficult to stand there and see the light die from your eyes as I said these things. It was painful to see you cry, knowing that I had been the one to cause you that pain. But it was devastating for me to realize that despite how much I loved you, how much I cared for you, that the words I said were still true. Agonizingly so.

I expected that this type of honesty would destroy our friendship. Even though I still held out hope in my selfish mindset that we could continue on like we had in the past. Spending our free nights together, laughing, joking, having fun together, sharing memories, crying, hugging, everything we used to do…

But of course, those dreams had not come into fruition.

When you volunteered to be shipped out of the country for a mission the day after Steve’s party, I knew it was to get away from me. And despite my frustration and worry about you leaving on some dangerous mission without me in the state you were in, Steve assured me that you would be fine. He didn’t know the extent of what happened, but Steve being the inquisitive son of a bitch he is, he was able to connect some of the dots at least. Surprisingly he didn’t lecture or judge me. I was expecting to get an earful from him about how I treated you, led you on, and hurt your feelings, but in return I got nothing.

The mission was only supposed to last for two weeks, but as the days grew longer, the whole team was on edge when the two of you didn’t return. Steve kept communications with Tony, and he would pass along the messages to the rest of us. “They hit a snag. They are safe but they are bunking down for a bit.”

I felt like I was on pins and needles. I just needed to know you were safe, that you were okay. I must have looked worse for wear around the tower, because even Nat noticed and had a conversation with me in my room. It was a little strange. Having her back in my apartment, alone, her fiery gaze still as piercing as it was when we were together. But those feelings I held for her were gone. Something else lingered there, a fondness for the time we had, but nothing more.

I knew she was your best friend, so I assumed you told her everything about what happened at the party, but when she came into my apartment with a stern gaze on me, arms crossed and all, all she said was.

“I don’t know what happened the other night at Steve’s party, but you need to stop moping and get a grip.”

“I’m fine. Stay out of it,” I said with an icy tone.

Nat just rolled her eyes and jabbed a finger at me. “If you don’t feel anything for her, then stay away or get your shit together. She cares about you too much to walk away from you, Bucky.” Nat’s voice grew softer as she thought of you. “Whenever she comes back, and she will come back, she needs to heal. She cannot continue to be your emotional support puppet. It's draining her, James. Every time she returns from hanging out with you I see less and less of her return. She cannot continue to give you all of her heart when she is receiving none of it back.

“So for her sake, please, let her go.”

It was a hard thing to hear, but it was necessary. I stopped driving myself mad with when you would return. It was difficult, maddeningly so, but after another week I was able to distract myself enough with other things… other people. I did a few missions here and there, nothing that took me out of the country, but it filled some of the time I had to think about you.

I spent time with Nadia, the girl I had gone on a few dates with, the girl I had broken your heart over. Our relationship was purely physical. She was another distraction, someone to pass the time with. She didn’t seem to mind the distance I put between us. We weren’t exclusive by any means, and she was free to explore all of her options, but that was as far as that would go. Not that I could ever tell you this, even though I wanted to.

That was the shittiest part of it all. I missed you. Constantly. I missed talking with you about every single part of my day. I missed hearing about your day, or the silly little thoughts that swirled in your curious head. I missed spending my weekends with you, staying up until the sun rose, seeing you curled up in a ball on my couch, sleeping so peacefully. The ache in my chest never ceased, but I was able to drown away the thought of you for moments at a time.

And then you returned.

It was like a blow to the heart, seeing you standing in the kitchen, casually making yourself a bowl of cereal. Your skin seemed tanner than when you left. Clearly you had been somewhere where the sun kissed your skin for long periods of time. You looked beautiful, even just in your morning casual wear. You hadn’t noticed me yet. I was frozen in the entryway, trying to think of something intelligible to say to you, when Steve walked in through the other way. He too had not noticed me yet, his skin also sunkissed and a bit long.

I opened my mouth to speak, but before any sound could come out, I watched as my best friend slid his arms around your waist, turned you around in a swift and gentle motion, and kissed you. Ice filled my veins and it felt as if a rock had dropped in my stomach. I staggered backwards a bit, hiding myself more in the darkness of the archway as I saw the scene unfold.

Steve was kissing you. His hands were gentle around your waist, and although you were taken by surprise in the moment, you stood on your toes to be more on his level. You cupped his face and smiled. You were smiling. You looked…happy.

I slipped away back down the hallway and into my room before I could see more. The image of my best friend kissing the love of my life was burned into my mind. I sat on my bed in a disgruntled mess, fighting the strange waves of feelings that were swirling in my body.

You were finally back. You were safe. At that I was able to release the tension in my chest that I had been holding since you left. And then… Steve. What had changed during those six weeks you were gone? Was it serious? Did you love him? Did he love you? These questions paced back and forth inside of my brain until I was nearly dizzy.

It was the memory of Nat’s voice that stuck out amongst my own thoughts. “Let her go.”

You had been happy in that kitchen. Steve was a good man, too good to play with someone’s feelings if he didn’t truly feel something for them. Steve was good for you. That’s what I wanted, wasn’t it? The reason why I broke your heart in the first place? To set you free to find someone that would love you in all the ways I was incapable of doing. Why was I mad that you had done that? Why did I want to punch Steve for kissing you?

I clenched my fists as I sat on the bed. My body shook with so much emotion. In the torental storm that was my mind, I tried to focus on one memory. The only one that mattered. That night on the balcony. You had stood there, hair swirling in the breeze, more beautiful than the night sky. And you said it.

“I’m in love with you.”

The words calmed me. The memory of that night grounded me. Your tears. Your sadness. Your anger. I caused that. “I’m in love with you.” That is what you told me. And even though I wanted to scream it back, to shout it from the roof that I loved you too, instead I denied you. I threw it back in your face to save you from what I am. I hurt you, and this was my punishment. Seeing you pick up the pieces of that love that I shattered and give it to someone who would nurture that love.

I sat there thinking and thinking, until my head was pounding. I laid down on my bed, the image of you kissing someone else burning in my head.

“I’m in love with you too,” I muttered to myself.

Then, as tears began to silently fall down my face, I began to laugh.

[blasphemecel]

Michael Kaiser — Takotsubo Cardiomyopathy

PAIRING: Michael Kaiser/Reader WORD COUNT: 1.3k TYPE: Angst, Post-break up WARNING(S): Don't read if you're sensitive to medical stuff, also tw for KAISER-TYPICAL MELODRAMA

“Are you fucking kidding me? That just sounds made up.”

“Sir,” the doctor, who’s been having to deal with Kaiser acting like the hospital is a debate club for the past fifteen minutes, says. Then he lets out a sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose. In all honesty, he does not want to deal with this. “While there’s an existing argument about the classification of broken heart syndrome, it is a real thing that happens. And you have it as we’ve deduced.”

“I don’t have health problems,” Kaiser says. Of course, those words fly out of his mouth without trouble even when Ness had to call an ambulance on him and everything, since he looked like he was on the brink of death today at practice. “Much less from bullshit reasons like a broken heart.”

“You don’t need to take it literally. That’s just the name. The trigger for the stress varies from case to case.”

Kaiser hopes his defensive statement didn’t reveal anything too personal, and decides to throw off any suspicion by staring down at his lap while frowning like a kid who got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. At least the doctor doesn’t seem to care because he’s not prying for unnecessary details. Not yet, anyway.

“For how long have you been ignoring the symptoms?”

“I haven’t been ignoring anything,” Kaiser says.

Sure, he was dizzy a few (many) times and short of breath, and disregarded it. And while he can sense the tightness and pain in his chest each time, a recurring physical and tangible ache, Kaiser interprets the experience as some kind of metaphor for the figurative stabbing he was a victim of. The arrhythmia is a natural indignant response to whenever your irritating face pops up in his imagination, since you’re the perpetrator.

All this over some shitty break up. While it’s stupid for someone whose career is in sports to shrug off such obvious signs, until today Kaiser never truly thought it was serious enough to warrant such an overreaction from his body. You shouldn’t have this much power over him. He’s going to kill you next time he sees you for doing this to him.

He’s deep in denial and the grave he’s been digging with his stupid lies is shallow in contrast, inefficient. Can’t even deceive himself.

“It’s most common in people over fifty.”

Kaiser rolls his eyes. “Thanks. I really needed to hear that.”

“What I’m saying is, I assume you’ve been ignoring this for some time and it escalated to a bad attack. So, do you recall if you’ve gone through severe stress recently? Anything traumatizing even, either physically or mentally? When was it? If you could be exact, that’d be helpful.”

Traumatizing? Traumatizing? Is this man fucking kidding him right now?

Kaiser stares at the doctor as if he’s the stupidest person alive. Forget a person, he is a bug for such a suggestion. Through grit teeth, he relents, “There was something two weeks ago. By the way, it wasn’t traumatizing! That’s ridiculous.”

What’s even more absurd is the notion Kaiser wouldn’t know how much time has passed with perfect accuracy. Fourteen days he hasn’t been sleeping well, hugging his pillow and crying like a loser, cursing you, wanting you back, both a worshipper and a heretic.

What was he feeling at that moment, when you broke things off? Was it overwhelming anger which got him to this point? Though he’s been reliving the moment over and over, Kaiser still can’t identify it. Just something intense zapping him through his veins, a devastating shock, a surge of adrenaline. But surely it was resentment at your audacity to throw him away like disposable trash? He doesn’t like the thought that he’s been so pathetically sad, he got sick because of it, so this is what he’ll go with.

Thinking about it is enough to make him start picking at the skin on his neck like he’s trying to peel the ink off. It’s almost vile. At least he retains the common sense not to squeeze it in front of a medical professional who can send him away to a psych ward with ease.

The doctor, too, looks at Kaiser like he is an insane person. Good thing they pay him enough for this — otherwise, he doesn’t know how he’d deal with having a strange man with a bizarre haircut give him attitude over his diagnosis when it should be reserved for his barber or whoever is responsible.

“Two weeks ago, okay,” he says, writing it down. “Lucky for you, this is temporary and reversible unlike most other things we checked you for. You’ll be fine in about two months with the treatment.”

“So, like I thought, it’s not a big deal. I can still play football, right? Don’t need to lay off or anything?” Kaiser asks.

The doctor sighs. Again. He wants to measure the circumference, thickness and density of Kaiser’s skull. “You’re not listening,” he says, clearly exasperated, but still trying to exert patience. “Your heart is weak and not functioning properly at the moment. You can’t immediately jump back into living the way you usually do. It’s still serious no matter what you say and it can cause complications.”

Kaiser makes an annoyed expression like this is all one big inconvenience rather than a threat to his quality of life. “Are you serious? You’ve got to be shitting me.”

“I’m honored you seem to think I’m a hilarious comedian, sir, since this is your nth time asking, but it’s not the case,” he says levelly.

“Don’t get clever with me.”

A sharp inhale through the nose and the doctor’s back on track, maintaining a feeble grasp on his inner peace, at least enough not to snap. Then, after this brief recollection, he reaches out to grab something, then holds it up. It’s a picture that looks either like an abortion-to-be or a black and white photo of lasagna… maybe. “This is your heart.”

Kaiser almost forgot about the ultrasound or whatever since he was strung out and sedated- relaxed throughout that whole ordeal. At the sight of it now, always theatrical, he decides the best course of action is to wrinkle his nose and say ‘eww,’ even though he’s not squeamish. But treating the matter seriously means admitting he has a problem, and he can’t have that.

The doctor pretends he can’t hear anything and points at the relevant area with his finger to illustrate the crux of the matter better. “You have apical ballooning. Do you get it? Even if it’s temporary, you can’t treat it lightly. So-”

Kaiser tunes out the rest of the explanation. Blah, blah, he could harm himself, very original. His gaze is stuck on the echocardiogram, though, and this time he’s nauseous for real, the tiniest bit. It strikes him as particularly ugly and deformed. Organs are repulsive to begin with, anyway, but this… thing is his, and he’s seeing it now. In any case, nothing so disgusting is worth loving or treating with care.

Is this how you’ve come to see him? What does Kaiser look like in your eyes? Ugly and maladjusted on the inside? Someone who likes laughing at other people’s misery, but can’t take even the slightest puncture? So out of touch with his emotions — and of his own volition —, he’s started experiencing them in the most visceral way possible. His desire for you: torment, a disease.

Would you find him dramatic? Maybe, but at least you’d make him laugh and smile and anything else his troubled mind has decided he needs at the moment, from you alone. Doesn’t matter, though. He’s not privy to that kind of thing, not anymore.

There’s a sting in his eyes and Kaiser wipes away his tears with a hasty swipe, though a few more stream down his cheeks. He doesn’t even know what he’s crying about again.

The doctor observes the display with the distanced apathy of someone who’s watched people die and shit themselves.

He gets discharged with a prescription and elaborate instructions on how to go about his physical activities until it’s deemed he’s fully healed at the later check-ups.

Great. Pitiful.

___

What's funny is that Y/n's probably having a good day while all this is going on

[mochalate]

"ghosts" ; postwar!levi/reader w/c: 700 ; fluff/angst

unlike levi, you're physically whole, but you seem to have lost some pieces of yourself too

“Do you want milk in your tea?” you ask, firing up the stove.

Levi pretends there isn’t a lump in his throat. “No.” 

He remembers you asking him this question before, in another life. One where the monsters didn’t only show up at night; where you knew what they looked like without him having to tell you. 

Where you remember he hates milk in his tea.

Levi fears he's being greedy, wishing for you to remember. He’s been doing nothing but wishing for the last few months— how long until the universe takes away everything it’s given him this time, like he’s a spoiled child having his playthings confiscated after a tantrum? 

He tries to be grateful. You survived that fall from the Founding Titan’s spines. Someone, somewhere had listened when he’d held your hand and prayed for you to wake up, to look at him just one more time, so he could apologise for not being there to catch you. He’d wanted nothing more than to hear you say his name again. So what if you'd ended up saying it like a question?

Levi watches you set his cup down in front of him, smiling. You’re always smiling now, far more than before. It makes him worry he’s being selfish, wanting you to get better. Wouldn’t he choose to forget too? All of the death and the destruction, from the underground to the coast of Marley; and the powerlessness to stop any of it?

He tries to tell himself he would, but he knows it’s a lie. What else did he have to show for all of it, if not for those memories?

“Have you remembered anything?” he asks. 

You shake your head. “I’m sorry, Levi.”

“Don’t apologise. You aren’t doing anything wrong.”

You bite your lip— just like you always did. That’s what gives him this devastating, soul-gouging hope, every day. How you’re still you. You still like sweet things more than salty ones, and your spoon still produces the same clinking melody when you stir the sugar into your tea. 

He allows the wound to reopen itself every morning after you ask to start sleeping next to him again, because he wakes up with your head tucked against his shoulder just like he remembers. He knows everything is still in there, buried somewhere inside your body; because on some nights, you cry and struggle in your sleep, running from things that won’t ever chase you anymore. 

Levi selfishly wakes you up, to ask you again and again if you remember, but you never do. 

Pieck had visited once, back from one of their peace-mongering trips. They weren’t working, she’d told him. She’d heard all about him from his brats in the 104th, and thought he would have some sage wisdom; or at least understand what it felt like to lose hope in something you believed in.

He couldn’t supply either of those things.

Pieck was smart, he’ll give her that. She had understood immediately. 

“I always felt,” she’d said, “that it was the worst thing in the world to not have any scars to show. But at least I could explain what was wrong with me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with her,” Levi had replied. It was true.

Pieck had hummed. “There’s definitely something wrong with you though, captain. Who thinks waking their wife up from a nightmare is selfish?”

It's selfish, because Levi feels like what he wakes you up into must be the real nightmare, lying next to a strange man who knows more about you than anyone else in the world.

"What's got you worried?" you ask him, shaking him out of his thoughts.

He's worried you'll realise he could just be a bad dream, if that's what you wanted. "I'm not worried."

"You're quiet."

"I'm always quiet."

You laugh. He realises your cup is already half-empty, and his is untouched.

"You're quiet, but not like this. Penny for your thoughts?"

You give him a smile that's as lovely as always, as lovely as it's always been. He knows he could fall in love with that smile as many times as it took. And when you reach for his hand, he wants to believe you'll allow him to, even if it's just for today.

Thank you for reading! Please like/reblog if you enjoyed. :) check out my other stuff?

Divider @/cafekitsune

[onepiece-polls]

One Piece Shipping War - Round 2 Side C

Lusan art by @supernaturallyginger. Check out the original post here!

Propaganda under the cut.

Propaganda for Sanji x Luffy:

I don't think anyone is gonna bother denying the fact that WCI is literally just the plot of an otome isekai shoujo manga/manhwa. MC (main character) is treated like trash by family except for the 1 dead mom and 1 nice sympathetic supporter that can't do much of anything to help. MC escapes only to find themselves in an even worse situation somewhat of their own making, only to be swept off their feet by the ML (male lead) and saved, full damsel in distress style. Dramatic love confessions, crying in the rain, betrayal from an arranged marriage, it has it all.

Dude Luffy loves Sanji so so much like WCI is the best example and like you don't even really need to see the love as romantic if that bugs you but dudes. The first words out of the Luffys Shadow Possessed Oars was yelling for Sanji. He just loves Sanji so much and Sanji loves him too

The WCI arc in itself is mega SanLu propaganda. Luffy invaded an emperor’s territory, completely crashed a wedding, went up against Sanji’s evil science family, and got nearly beat to death by Sanji himself all in order to get Sanji back. Sanji offered his life to Kuma at thriller bark so Kuma wouldn’t kill Luffy. He pushed himself for 2 years all in order to get stronger FOR Luffy. Sanji feels sorry when he isn’t useful, the whole reason why he used the raid suit those few times was because he was thinking about getting stronger for Luffy, but realized that he didn’t want to become an emotionless monster like his family. Sanji broke down in tears at WCI when he tried to get Luffy to go away by fighting him. And then broke down in tears again when he ran back to Luffy and told him he wanted to go back home to the Sunny. No matter what Sanji cooks, Luffy always likes it and is proud to have him in his crew. Sanji is also one of Luffy’s “wings”, as stated by Robin! They’re both just so sweet and clearly care very deeply about each other.

Luffy saving Sanji on whole cake island got to me

[Insert everything that happens between them during WCI] how could I see luffy yelling about how he won't eat anything and will starve- LUFFY OF ALL PEOPLE- unless Sanji comes back and not ship them at LEAST a little. "Without you I can't become the pirate king" absolutely devastating cinema. Then Sanji laying out everything, in tears, and Luffy accepting it all and just saying, "well that's who you are" poetic. Final wci thing: luffy hearing judges bs about sanji and going "whyd he start listing all your good point" true love. This seems one sided but Sanji is also just as bad. "Which version of me do you prefer" anyone? They care SO MUCH about each other. Also Luffy loves to eat, Sanji loves to feed people, they're meant to be.

*gestures at the entirety of WCI* I mean that’s Love, they are Ride or Die, Luffy cannot become the pirate king without Sanji, whether that means physically because he needs Sanji’s support or just because being the pirate king means Luffy has everything he wants and what he wants is Sanji or both. And Sanji loves him just as much back! He’s his sun he’s his world…Luffy jump and Sanji’s too busy skywalking to bother asking how high. I just love them sm

Oda himself wrote the propaganda for this, Whole Cake Island just cemented lusan as canon. "I can't become Pirate King without you!" <- that's love baby

Propaganda for Sanji x Usopp:

PLEASE they are so great for the needs love/gives love dynamic because it goes both ways.

My fav somewhat rare pair. I specifically love on skypiea when Sanji sacrifices himself to save Usopp from Enel. (And of course the scene when they wake up from their injuries holding hands!!!!)

It is simply the best Sanji ship I’m afraid

Consider: they cute

[thedemonknownasbilly]

So sorry for sending another thing in but I have this idea For Crowley x reader hcs

Have you seen those nebula/space themed light projectors before? (If not I can send pics in)

But I was thinking- maybe reader knows that Crowley isn't able to enjoy the stars anymore (bc of his snake-eyes)- so as a surprise, they set up the bedroom to be super comfortable and bring Crowley in, telling him to close his eyes. They turn off the lights, turn on the projector, and show Crowley.

It's not the same, but hopefully it would be something.

I apologize if this doesn't make any sense. I'm typing this pretty fast.

Also, I just finished Eden and Human and. Billy. Billy you hurt me in the best ways.

-🐝

Never Shine as Bright as Your Eyes - Crowley x GN!Reader

Darlin’ you had me at galaxy projectors. I have one. I’m impossible to drag out of the planetarium. I cried when I realized Dallas didn’t have one.

I will happily write (ex)Star Maker!Crowley any day of the week.

Aziraphale was the one who told you more about Crowley and his past, how they met those millennia ago, how Crowley literally hung the stars.

It certainly made sense, you had spent countless nights at his flat, noticing how his office contained numerous books on space and how there were a few small posters, specifically of Alpha Centauri and the Pillars of Creation. You understood why your beloved demon didn’t want to talk about it, after all he was cast aside from his work, told to never touch or make a star again. It must be painful. You were left to wonder what he thought of the humans mistaking his art as destroyed, only for a few years later for them to announce their error. Did he know the Pillars still stood or was he devastated and mourning?

A question you opted to never ask, not wanting to risk bringing up painful memories, but for now, you giggled endlessly as you opened the small box on the bed, pulling out exactly what you hoped would help Crowley.

Crowley was nothing short of a wonderful partner, showering you in gifts, insisting he pay for everything, making sure you never went a day without at least five “I love you”s, and at last you could return the favor for him, at last you could give him as much happiness as he gave you, and you couldn’t help yourself when you heard the hum of the Bentley pulling into the drive, rushing out to the car and into his arms as he stood.

“This is a lovely welcome home,” he smiled, kissing you sweetly, his arm draping around your waist, he hadn’t even had time to close the car door yet.

“I have a surprise for you,” you blurted out, smile ever growing as he raised an eyebrow, his own grin never falling.

“Oh, really, Pet?” He chucked at your enthusiastic nod, “must be something really special if you’re so excited, tell me what have you done?”

“Close your eyes, please my darling?” He carefully stepped you both out of the way so he could close the car door before nodded and closing his eyes, holding your hands so you could guide him. “No peeking.” You laughed, hardly hearing his resort as you guided him into and through the flat, the plants abruptly standing tall and green as you two passed them. Carefully having him sit down on the bed, you kissed his forehead before having him let go so you could close the door and switch the projector on, the blinds already drawn in.

You couldn’t help to let out a little gasp at the bright galaxy that now filled your room. “Okay, open.” Your heart was pounding, a little scared he’d be upset, but his gasp and wide eyes said everything opposite. You watched as he carefully stood up, spinning slowly in the room as he took it all into view.

“I haven’t… oh, it’s all right, all perfect.” He murmured, walking over to a particular cluster of stars, “these were made that day I met Aziraphale, he helped me. Held the scroll for me.”

“And these were the first ones, ever. Let there be light. That was these.”

“And these…” you sat on the bed, watching as your demon smiled ever so big, rambling on happily about his different creations.

“Thank you,” he said, looking at you with tears of joy in his eyes, “you have no idea how much this all means to me… thank you.” And with that he pulled you up and pressed his lips to yours, only five thousand or so light years away, a new nebula was born.

Once the star maker, always the star maker.

[pimosworld]

The ties that bind

Pairing- Dave York x f!reader x Francisco Morales

Series Summary-Dave is a private investigator who tracks down soulmates. He’s tasked to find Frankie’s, but what happens when he finds you and he wants you to himself?

CW-18+,MDNI, Angst,Fluff,Eventual Smut,Hurt, Comfort,MMF dynamics. General warnings for each chapter. Anything sensitive will be added to individual chapters.

WK-5.5K

A/N-This starts out angsty but I don’t write sad endings so keep that in mind going forward. Reader has a best friend very near and dear to my heart.

[Series Masterlist][Main Masterlist]

Not beta read

Chapter I

Dave looks over the file on his desk again before he makes the call. He reviewed it the night before and was going to contact the client until he realized not everyone holds the same weird hours as he does. Insomnia. 

  He takes a sip of his coffee as he dials the number with a Florida area code. At least he would get to enjoy some nice weather this time. The last soulmate he tracked down mid winter lived in Buffalo New York, he wasted weeks trying to find him only to find out he was happily married and had no intention of leaving his current wife. The woman who hired him was devastated but…devastated doesn’t pay the bills so she was out twenty grand, and went back to being single a few states over. 

  They don’t always end in misery but he’s used to it now. He wonders why he still does it, maybe helping these people will erase the thought of killing someone’s soulmate when he’s contracted for his other job. He can’t think about that one too much. 

  “Hello Santiago speaking.” Dave glances down at the file once more to be sure. 

  “Ugh yes I’m Dave York calling to reach Francisco Morales?” He hears a low curse on the other end and some apologies. 

  “Oh ya, just give me a second.” He can hear ruffling and the sound of a sliding door. My patience is already wearing thin. 

  “Thanks for returning my call. I’m actually hiring you on behalf of my friend Francisco.” 

  This wouldn’t be the first time he was contracted to find someone’s soulmate because some friend or family member couldn’t keep their nose where it belonged. There would most certainly be drama and resistance. Two things Dave did not handle well. 

  “That’s very generous of you. Is Francisco eager to find his soulmate?” 

  “He ugh…well…yes, yes he is.” Fat chance

  “I would need to meet him of course to go through with this, you understand?” 

  “Of course, that won’t be a problem at all. I sent you the details of when and where we can meet and provided you with the deposit.” At least he means business, either way Dave doesn’t care about the in’s and outs of why people do it. He knows it’s important… or at least he did. 

  He finishes going over the rules with Santiago that will hopefully get relaid to Frankie. He’ll find your soulmate and set up a meeting. If the person does not wish to pursue the relationship he will relay that to you to avoid any in person embarrassment. No stalking or harassment involved. If he can’t find them within 30 days you get your money back. 

  Some people frowned upon what he did. Purists thought you should meet your soulmate organically. They were rarely alone for more than a few years before they found theirs so he didn’t like listening to what they had to say. 

  He wasted years trying to find his love. When he did find her…it was already too late. Those six months were the best and worst of his life. Knowing he’s found his soulmate and gets to spend every waking moment with her only to have it ripped from his grasp. 

  If he had to spend the rest of his tortured life helping others not waste time then he would. 

  ****

  Why the hell did Will make them wear bow ties? This must be Amanda’s suggestion, there’s no way he decided they should all be this uncomfortable on his wedding day. 

  Frankie looks over at Ben and Will having some brotherly talk as if the younger miller has some wise words of advice having been married for all of six months. He loved rubbing it in that he was able to tie the knot before the rest of them of course excluding Tom who got married years ago when they were all in basic. 

  He tries really hard not to be bitter on these days but he can’t help himself. Of course he ran that risk when he married someone who was not his soulmate. He loved Sophia so much it didn’t matter to him. It’s worked out for plenty of other people and it worked for him…until it didn’t. 

  He didn’t try very hard to find his soulmate. Between being in the military, not being able to put down roots for so long and the fact that his soulmate probably hated him for all his scars and tattoos he can’t say he put much of an effort into finding them. 

  The hummingbird tattoo on his wrist practically taunted him his entire marriage. He pretended he didn’t care and so did she. She always told him they would try for kids when she was ready and he never pushed. He thought she was finally ready when she told him they needed to talk. Never in a million years did he expect her to say she found her soulmate and she was leaving him. 

  Their baby boy should be a year old by now, Sophia was pregnant within a month of the divorce being finalized. This was information Santiago insisted despite the others protests that he needed to know so that he could move on. 

  He can’t put the blame all on her. He left for Colombia to bring home money so they could start a family and he came home with nothing but news that her best friend's husband was dead. 

  It must be some kind of fucked up karma that they went back for the money and now he’s alone. If he’s really being honest with himself, he knows they never really loved each other. It was convenient for both of them. Frankie doesn’t like being honest with himself so he'd rather continue on painting her as the villain in his story. 

  “Hermano, you need some help with that tie.” Santiago starts fidgeting before he can even answer no. He slaps his hands away and Santi backs away with his hands up in surrender. 

  “Why are you being so nice?” 

  “I’m always nice.” Frankie scoffs at that. Santiago was never nice unless he wanted something from you. 

  “You picked up my tux, gave me a ride here and now you’re offering to fix my tie?!” He gives him a look and Santi knows it’s only a matter of time. 

  “I have a surprise for you.” He resumes fixing his tie despite Frankie’s protests. 

  “The last time you surprised me someone died.” Santi clears his throat but doesn’t protest, it must be bad. 

  “I hired a PI to find your soulmate.” That last part is rushed out but Frankie hears him clear as day. 

  He shoves him back a few steps which draws the attention of Ben and Will. “Why the fuck would you do that?” 

  “Chill out Fish, what’s your problem?” Ben steps between the two of them as Frankie looks as though he could spit fire. 

  “I told him about the PI.” Ben whips around to Santi. 

  “I thought we were gonna wait until tomorrow.” Frankie looks over at Will in disbelief. 

  “You fucking knew about this?” He can see it in their eyes and how no one will look at him directly.

  “Can we please talk about this tomorrow? I’m getting married in an hour.” 

  Sure he’ll talk tomorrow, they can all talk about staying out of his life and meddling in his business. Pope can call off the PI and they can all go back to being happy with their soulmates and Santiago can go fuck off somewhere in another country as he always does, leaving Frankie to mope alone with his thoughts. 

  “Ya we’ll talk tomorrow.” Ben comes over to fix his tie and Frankie clenches his fists at his side. 

  This is going to be a long day. 

  ****

  The new Mr.& Mrs. Miller do look very in love on the dance floor as Frankie enjoys his second piece of cake. Cake never betrayed him…his ex wife and his best friends maybe but never cake. 

  Ben dips his wife and it sorely reminds him of his wedding day when he and Sophia ended up with calloused feet from dancing all night. 

  His chest tightens at the sight of Molly dancing with her girls. She stayed so strong through it all and she looks so happy, maybe it’s just a front or maybe she’s choosing not to be a miserable sap like him. She lost her soulmate and never once judged them for what they did. She knew how Tom could be. Frankie doesn’t know how someone could treat their soulmate the way Tom treated Molly. He’s better off alone than with a soulmate who doesn’t love him back. 

  Santiago makes his way over to the table and gestures to the seat next to Frankie. He nods his head for him to sit down while he watches the dance floor. They sit in silence for a moment and Frankie thinks about how selfish he is for being so petulant about the whole thing. 

  Santiago never cared about finding his soulmate, maybe because of their line of work or maybe it was the nature of his being. He’ll never forget the look on his face when his tattoo’s disappeared. He told the guys it was fine but they could hear him trying to muffle his cries in his bunk. 

  “I’ll do it Pope.” Santiago looks at him with a mixture of shock and excitement. 

  “I came ready for an argument.” He slides Frankie’s plate closer to him to steal a bite of cake. “We meet him tomorrow.” 

  “Jesus what if I said no?” Frankie slides the plate back to himself, not ready to let go of his precious dessert. 

  “You might want to lay off the cake if you’re going to meet your soulmate soon.” Frankie flips him off as Santi grabs the plate and saunters off to the dance floor. 

  ****

  Dave’s always early to meet a client, but never this early. He couldn’t find a lot of information on Francisco Morales but he did find out he was Delta Force and so was the man that hired him on his behalf. He always met potential clients in a public place of their choosing to get an idea of who they are. There's no doubt in his mind that this coffee shop holds no significance to the two men and will most certainly not help him figure out anything about Francisco. 

  He knows it’s their military training that they will never seem to break free from. It doesn’t make it easy for your soulmate to find you when you're as mysterious as Francisco Morales. No social media, no parking tickets, no convictions. A minor hiccup with his pilot's license but his record was scrubbed clean a few years ago. It takes a lot of money to completely wipe your record. 

  Their trip to Colombia wasn’t as off the books as they thought. With Dave’s connections he can find out a lot more about the average person than they think. It’s true he is paid to find your soulmate but he has a duty to uphold to not put said person in harm's way. Frankie’s sketchy past and interesting finances make him a little wary to just introduce him to the person he’s supposed to spend the rest of his life with. He doesn’t know the circumstances behind his wife leaving him and that also has his guard up. Who just up and leaves after 8 years? 

  He pauses his thoughts momentarily as he notices an old Jeep pull into the parking lot of the cafe. He hasn’t seen a Jeep like that in years. His suspicions are correct when two men around his age step out. Still relatively in military shape, the shorter of the two in a black t-shirt much too tight for him and black jeans. The taller one in an open flannel and blue jeans donning a dirty cap and aviators…that must be Francisco. 

  They both survey the area as if it’s their first time here and that confirms his other notion that these men wanted to meet somewhere not near their home. Probably thirty minutes to an hour outside of where they actually live if he would guess. Fifteen minutes early to be safe but still not earlier than him. 

  “I should’ve worn something nicer.” Frankie smooths his hands down the front of his worn flannel as they approach the coffee shop. This was his nice flannel but maybe he could’ve taken an iron to it or something. 

  “Relax hermano, he didn’t bring your soulmate to the meeting.” 

  “You vetted this guy?” Frankie couldn’t find much information on David York, which worried him a little. 

  “As much as I could.” Frankie holds the door open for Santiago as they enter and head straight for the counter. Coffee is much needed after imbibing too much at the wedding. He’s grateful in hindsight that he chose this location just outside of town. 

  “Corner,black suit.” 

  Frankie glances up, hopefully shielded by his sunglasses. “He looks smug.” 

  “Don’t start.” Santi hisses under his breath as he steps up to place their order. “ Two black coffees please.” 

  Best case scenario, this guy finds his soulmate and Frankie can’t even wrap his head around what he would do with that information. It scares him to even think about it. 

  Worst case scenario, Pope is out some money that he didn’t ask him to spend in the first place and he can go back to whatever semblance of a life he was living before all this. 

  Way to be positive Frankie

  ****

  Introductions are awkward to say the least. Frankie and Santi seated at the small cafe table across from Dave who has set a notepad down next to his small coffee. The silence is deafening as he scribbled down a few things after giving them a once over. 

  “So I’m sure you have some questions for me. If you don’t mind holding those until I’ve gone over everything.” He’s not really asking and Frankie already had his hackles up at the grim outlook of the man in front of him. 

  He always hated ‘suits’ . This guy is obviously ex-government and he’s not really sure how someone like him ended up in the line of work of finding someone’s soulmate. Besides the obvious monetary aspect there is a lot of love and emotion involved and the man seated before him doesn’t strike him as the romantic type. 

  “Why did you decide to hire me to find your soulmate?” I didn’t hire you. Frankie looks over at Santiago hoping he’ll help him out a little. 

  “Well ugh…I actually didn’t.” Dave raises his eyebrows at that but lets him continue. “My friend here was kind enough to give me a push in the right direction.” After too many drinks and a lot of talking he reconciled with Santi that this was something he should at least try to pursue. 

  Everything seems pretty straightforward once he starts going over his normal way of doing things. Frankie understands after the initial round of uncomfortable questions that Dave needs to make sure he’s not some weirdo. He opted to return a few peoples initial deposit upon meeting them and not deeming them safe enough or sane enough to track down their soulmate and uproot their lives. 

  Frankie’s thankful he doesn’t pry too much into his reason for divorcing. Dave mostly wanted to make sure that he was not still legally married because he won’t set anyone up for heartbreak. 

  Dave has a thirty day guarantee, if he doesn’t find them in that time frame you get a full refund. Frankie is a little shocked at his confidence. People spend their entire lives trying to find their soulmate and he can somehow guarantee it. 

  “So, now that I’ve gone over all the logistics. Do you have any questions for me?” Frankie looks to Santiago who’s been uncharacteristically quiet throughout this meeting. Maybe out of courtesy for Frankie or perhaps he’s sizing him up. Either way, Frankie really only has one thing he is curious about. 

  “Why do you do it?” 

  Dave takes a sip of his lukewarm coffee. It’s pretty bad if he’s being honest but he needs a moment. He always needs a moment when this question is brought up. It’s usually one of the only questions he hates answering. Truthfully answering would require to let people in ‘strangers’. 

  These same strangers trust him enough to do this so as uncomfortable as it is he provides enough of an answer to suit both parties. 

  “I hate to say that it pays well, but I have to state the obvious.” For the first time during the meeting Frankie can see his hard exterior crack a little. The first time where he seems nervous and unsure of what he’s going to say. 

  “Also…I wish I had met my wife sooner. I may have had more time with her.” 

  Santiago excuses himself from the table. He doesn’t do well with emotions. Frankie knows that probably stung a little. He’s not sure if it’s worse that Santi never got to meet them or if meeting them briefly makes it all that more painful. 

  “I appreciate your honesty Dave.” He sends him a tight lip smile that doesn’t meet the eyes. 

  “If that’s all you have for me I’ll be in touch in the next few days hopefully with an update.” 

  Frankie shakes his hand, a firm handshake he notes to himself. Dave has a nice build, he’s not sure why he makes a note of that as well. 

  Frankie finished the rest of his coffee and headed outside. Santi leans against the back of the Jeep scrolling idly on his phone. He looks up at him but says nothing as they both get in, Frankie in the driver's seat. 

  “I just needed some air.” Santiago looks out the passenger window seemingly fixated on the passing cars. 

  “I know hermano.” He doesn’t need to say anything more. 

  Neither of them speak for a while, too many thoughts on their minds as they ponder the meeting and what all of it means. Seeing Santiago still struggling with losing his soulmate makes Frankie want to give this his all. 

  ****

  Santi can’t shake the thought of Dave doing all this because he didn’t have enough time with his soulmate. At least he got to spend some time with them. He's lied to himself all these years after his tattoos and scars of his soulmate were long gone. This was not about him though, this is about helping his friend move on and be happy. That’s all he wants for them after the chaos he caused in Colombia. He has to make things right for him. Frankie may not see it as his fault but Santiago can’t help but think maybe Sophia would’ve stayed if things hadn’t gone so poorly. 

  Santiago would never know that things started to sour in their relationship long before that Ill fated trip to steal someone else’s money. 

  Frankie was the one who had it all together. A real job he could be proud of , a wife he loved , a house for their future family. Things quickly fell apart for him after they returned and he was no longer the one that they looked to for guidance. 

  Santiago made it his mission to help Frankie get back on his feet after they went back for the money. Frankie got his license back, he bought a home that didn’t remind him of all his memories with his ex wife, now all he needed to do was find love. 

  Santi rubs his hands across his jeans trying to shake himself from the trance. Frankie eyes him cautiously from the driver’s seat. 

  Santiago leans forward to turn the radio down. “So how are you feeling about all this?” 

  “Considering he has a guarantee, a little better than I felt going in.” 

  He doesn't want to get his hopes up too much but he’s starting to get that feeling like things may be taking a turn for the better. 

  Frankie pulls up to Santi’s house and puts the car in park. 

  “I know what you’re gonna say, I’ll be fine I promise and I’ll call you later after I sleep off this hangover.” Frankie smiles at that,Santiago only lets a select few into his world and he won’t push it any further. 

  “I just want to say thanks Pope. This really means a lot.” Santi waves him off and hops out, he knows how much it means but he’s not gonna get any more emotions out of this day. 

  “Love you hermano, this time next year we’ll be planning your wedding.” Santi calls out over his shoulder before he enters his house. Frankie wants to roll his eyes at that but he secretly hopes that he’s right. 

  ****

  “Alicia! We’re gonna be late.” You stand in your bedroom in front of the floor length mirror putting the finishing touches on your makeup. The modest yellow sundress and strappy heels you bought ages ago are finally getting some use. 

  “I can’t decide on what to wear.” You faintly hear her yell from her bedroom. 

  You’re not particularly excited about this singles event she signed you up for but you certainly didn’t want to walk in late and have all eyes on you. She’s your best friend so you agreed to accompany her on one of her many schemes to get you back on the dating scene. 

  You cross the hall to her room and find a mountain of clothes on her bed and more clothes flying out of her closet. 

  “Let me see what you’re wearing.” She emerges from her closet in a slinky black dress to match her long black hair. She was a bombshell in anything she wore so you aren’t sure what the hold up is. 

  “Alicia that looks hot, wear that.” She gives herself a once over in the mirror as she smooths her hands down the front. 

  “You don’t think this is sending the wrong message?” 

  “Babe you said yourself you need to get laid.” You glance down at the time on your phone. “Shit we’re gonna be really late.”

  “You’re right, I did say that. Thanks for talking me off a ledge.” She grabs her phone from the nightstand as you follow her out of the room. 

  “You’re gonna need to pretend my room is yours if you bring someone home though.” You gesture towards the disaster she left on her bed. 

  She turns to you, grabbing your face and kissing your forehead. “Only a true friend would let me defile her bed for the sake of a hookup.”

  You laugh as you shoo her along out the door. “That’s what friends are for.”

  ****

  The bad news, you were indeed late. The good news is no one seems to notice as you both enter the hotel lounge for the event. Everyone is talking and mingling amongst themselves so you and Alicia have an opportunity to grab a drink and settle in. 

  You haven’t been on a proper date in years so she thought this would be a nice way to ease back into things. No pressure or obligations and no awkward first date etiquette. People were just here to simply talk and get to know each other. If you made a connection that was great but if you just didn’t like someone then there were no hard feelings. 

  “Cute guy at twelve o'clock is checking you out.” You try to do a subtle scan of the room as you sip your fruity drink. 

  “Alicia I don’t know what that means…Wait how do you know he wasn’t checking you out?” She steps in front of you to slightly block your view. 

  “He’s in the gray button down on my right .” She half whispers as she attempts a head nod. “Do you see him?” 

  “Oh shit he’s coming over here.” You both do your best worst to act casual as a tall and very attractive…distractingly attractive man walks over. 

  “I do have to say yellow is definitely your color.” 

  “Told you.” Alicia says under her breath as she leaves you at the bar with this stranger. 

  You thank him politely for his compliment and introduce yourself as you try to ignore the lewd gestures your best friend is making with her hands behind his back. Thankfully she’s interrupted by a man with a tap on her shoulder. He’s noticeably not the type she goes for. He’s much too tall for her…she prefers to tower over her love interests ‘it makes me feel powerful’ in her words. 

  Jeff was nice enough as he engaged you in conversation. He mostly droned on about his job in finance and his hobbies, his five year goals and now come to think of it…you didn’t really get a chance to talk about yourself. He excused himself from the conversation when he saw someone he knew in the crowd, leaving you in your comfortable silence once again. 

  Your moment of reprieve is short lived when a woman approaches you. You actually enjoy talking to her and you can tell she’s listening intently. She’s beautiful, funny and smart. Perhaps another time you would be interested but she mentioned she just got out of a long term relationship and you don’t have the energy to be someone’s rebound. You’ve spent years repairing your broken heart and if this is your one attempt at trying to find love again it just wouldn’t be fair to either of you. 

  You still exchanged numbers after she’d said how nice it was to meet you. Your eyes immediately find Alicia’s across the room with a man who could be her grandfather. He doesn’t seem to notice her look of save me etched across her face. You take this moment to tease her a bit, making the same hand motions she did earlier. An older woman looks on in shock when you realize a little too late that you’ve caught the attention of others in the room. 

  After offering an apologetic smile, you gather yourself and join her across the room. 

  “Sorry to interrupt, Alicia, can I borrow you for a moment.”

   She loops her arm in yours pulling you close to her side. “It was nice to meet you Irving.”

  “The pleasure is all mine dear.” He takes her free hand, planting a sloppy wet kiss on the top. You bite your cheek to stifle a laugh as she waves him off. You can feel her eyes on you as you exit the lounge. 

  If looks could kill you’d be a goner. 

  “Irving seemed nice.”

  “Shut up.” 

  You both burst into a fit of giggles as you make it safely to the hotel lobby out of sight of anyone trying to vy for your attention. 

  These were the moments you lived for with your best friend. The reason you were able to get back on your feet when you moved across the country to start your life over. She took you in like a stray cat, no questions asked when you replied to her ad looking for a roommate. You didn’t find out until later on that she didn’t need the money, she just hated living alone. 

  She came from a wealthy family and traveled the world before settling in Naples Florida. She never had a soulmate…it wasn’t out of the ordinary for people to go their entire lives without so much as a mark or tattoo. It makes you wonder if the universe chooses at random or if people are destined for that path. She is such a free spirit it almost makes sense why she can’t be tied down to just one person. Her biggest problem is making sure her current interests aren't only after her for money. 

  “So…what’s the plan for the rest of the evening babe?” You both step out still arm in arm. It’s a beautiful sunset starting just over the tops of the buildings downtown. You could walk down to the beach or drab a drink at another bar. 

  You can feel your dress starting to cling to your back from the humidity and you made a huge mistake wearing heels that weren’t broken in yet. Alicia looks at you and then pulls out her phone to call a car to come get you. “Let’s go home and eat ice cream while we discuss what a train wreck that was.” 

  You let out a sigh of relief as you push back trying to stand on the heels of your feet. “That sounds like a perfect night.” 

  ****

  “At one point he actually took his dentures out to show me.” Alicia buries her head in the pillow as you make a disgusted face. 

  “That’s awful. I’m so sorry.” You’re laughing to the point of a stomach ache. 

  “Ya, you sound really sorry.” She throws the pillow at you on the other end of the couch. “So tell me about the girl. You were talking to her for a while.” She raises one eyebrow at you as she reaches down to the coffee table for the carton of rocky road. 

  “She was nice.” You lean forward grabbing the carton from her hands. “She was more than nice actually…but she just got out of a serious relationship.” 

  “Ugh…no one wants to be a rebound.” 

  Your thoughts exactly. 

  You swear sometimes you share a brain, or maybe you have just spent so much time with each other that you can’t help but think alike. 

  “I’m glad we went, I needed to break the ice. It’s not like the love of my life is gonna waltz into the record store.” You loved your job, you always had a love for music. There was something so special about the medium of records standing the test of time. That’s the kind of love you wanted. 

  “Let’s just marry each other if this dating thing doesn’t work out.” She holds out her pinky as you wrap yours around hers. 

  “Deal.” 

  “Deal.” 

  You raise from the couch gathering your plush blankets. “I’m gonna turn in for the night, love you leesh.” 

  “Love you too hon’, get some sleep.”

  ****

  Sleep

  That was a joke in its own right. The problem with having anxiety is the one time where your brain should quiet down is when it wants to be the most active. 

  You brush your thumb along the etched roses on your ring finger. It’s such a fine and delicate tattoo, the line work is beautiful and the stem of it perfectly curls around coming to a point at the end of your finger. 

  You hate to assume, but it’s always felt feminine in nature. It doesn’t seem like a drunken mistake or a rushed decision. The tattoo feels intentional. You had a lot of tattoos in a short amount of time when you were in college. These tattoos were overtly masculine. A small Blackhawk tattoo on your left wrist, almost mirroring your hummingbird. A gun of some kind on your left ankle…you weren’t familiar with firearms. A tiny elephant on the inside of your left thigh, by far the most adorable of the set. 

  In short succession they all adorned your body before you graduated from the California Institute of the Arts with a minor in arts management and a major in music history. Your step mother always said it was a waste and your father couldn’t be bothered to defend you. Your mother would have been proud though. 

  It was years before the roses showed up on your finger one beautiful spring day. It was so unlike the others it turned your world upside down. 

  The reason you moved across the country to escape the control and the pressure of someone who couldn’t love you with those scars and tattoos. Resenting you more and more each day knowing that you belonged to someone else. 

  It’s those thoughts that keep you up at night. The nightmares and horrible things that only your mind thinks up. As much as you try to push those thoughts away, you know deep down someone is out there. Made for you. 

  We can complain because rose bushes have thorns, or rejoice because thorn bushes have roses. 

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[mexicangela]

okay. so. about tedbecca.

this is long and i apologize i just have thoughts. first, the fakeout in the beginning was cruel. BUT i was willing to forgive because tbh it was kinda funny and i’m not convinced that the “morning after” tension between ted and rebecca didn’t make everyone, everyone, think for just a second that they had slept together. y’know, like, if there was never any chemistry there, why the fakeout to get tedbeccas excited/cut them down and antis worried? did the reason for ted, beard, and jane being there really make a ton of sense? no. therefore, it really does feel like it was just something they wrote in to be mean and, like. come on, guys. why be mean? second, their talk in the stands??? you gotta be fucking kidding me. rebecca welton poured her fucking soul out to ted and he didn’t have a thing to say about it other than that “i’ve already made my decision” bullshit? didn’t even offer her a hand or hug of comfort? how out of character was that? he seemed so stoic through the whole episode, like he was stunted. which, maybe has to do with his being sad about leaving but still it threw me off. jesus, talk about “subverting expectations” or whatever. also, the things rebecca was saying? “you go, i go”? the ultimatum of “either we both stay or we both leave” and then her saying they’d both go only to take it back in the end? be so fucking for real right now. the offer to pay him insane amounts of money then telling him there was really no kind of monetary compensation that could represent how much he meant to the club (and her), the proposed solution to bring his child and his child’s mother over to london for him to stay (it is one thing to offer to get henry over, but to extend the offer to michelle is something else)? those aren’t things regular old friends say/do for each other, i’m sorry. listen, i love my friends but that’s a lot to offer anyone. you really have to love someone to be willing to do all that and cry real tears while begging them to stay, to choose you, to choose the home you’ve made for yourself. third, the airport scene gutted me but AGAIN i was kind of at peace with it. it would have at least left it super open ended and allowed the fanbase to imagine what could have happened afterward, y’know. like the whole “rom-com leave-cute” thing was another mean thing to do because where was the rom or the com about that?? why do that? but like i said, i would have been at peace with it because, dear god, the way rebecca was looking at him (again, ted gave us almost nothing but whatever. not even a tear? ugh.). i mean, she was looking at him like she wanted to say “stay. choose me. choose your own happiness.” also i know she’s loaded but WHO BUYS A FIRST CLASS TICKET JUST TO GET PAST SECURITY ONLY TO SAY GOODBYE TO A GOOD PAL? doesn’t make sense to my little pea brain!!! sudeikis, make it make sense (unfortunately for me and everyone around me i still love him)! there really should have been an “i love you” and not even necessarily in a romantic way. these two are supposed to be soulmates, cosmically connected, there’s not supposed to be one without the other and all we got was…”thank you” and a head nod? like, yes, thank you. thank you for showing me warmth and kindness and grace. thank you for reminding me what my strength looks like. thank you for being there for me. yes, yes, yes, thank you! but an “i love you” really would have been wonderful and i’m actually sad they didn’t get to hear it from each other. fourth, the way nameless boat dude came back in like a fucking generic ass early disney prince was just lame. i thought it was lazy. here we have a rebecca who is devastated that this weird, funny, kindhearted american football coach who shoved himself into her life and her heart has just left to go back to kansas and this little dutch girl trips and suddenly rebecca’s found happiness? it’s frustrating. really, it is. like i’m happy rebecca has a shot at happiness and a family, but she just as well could have had it with ted, who is admittedly very similar to this dutch man. i don’t get it. this is where it well and truly lost me. fifth (this one’s a three parter, sorry), where’s ted’s happy ending? because i don’t think it’s a life of volunteering to coach children’s soccer. i know people have been implying/worrying that ted and michelle reconcile but i don’t see that happening. ted, at his core, is still the man michelle left. he’s still overly optimistic (although we didn’t see that in the finale, like what?), he’s still punny, and let’s be real, he’s still a mess. i didn’t see the resolution to his arc. in fact, returning to kansas feels like a regression. he literally ran from kansas. that’s the whole reason he went to richmond in the first place. what changed? why is he going back now? for henry, yes, of course, that’s understandable. and at the same time, within the show we’ve been shown that the bond of a father and child is not always enough to get dad to stay/be a good and decent father (i.e. ted’s father, i.e. james tartt sr., i.e. rebecca’s father). this isn’t, of course, true for ted and henry, but i think it’s a point to make concerning everyone saying things about the child-parent bond being end-all, be-all. for some people, that’s true. for others, it isn’t. it isn’t a jab at anyone or the parent-child relationship in general, it’s just the truth. this is a coin that has two sides, y’know. got off course there but anyway, henry also could have gone to london, which i think might have been the best thing for him anyway, he seemed to have a good time there and he would have had a whole band of new brothers with all the himbos. michelle isn’t a bad mother by any means, but she’s got her own shit to work through if the whole doctor jacob thing was anything to go by. i also don’t think the show did all that great of a job showing us that henry had this super deep connection with his dad, but maybe that was just me lol. regardless, i still understood the bond and its importance and of course ted wanted to be there for his child. that part does make sense. the way it was gone about felt like a disservice though. ted’s expression at the end there doesn’t scream happy. he looked rather sad to me, like something was weighing on him still. and i’m sure there was. i don’t think he’s at peace with himself yet, or happy. maybe he’ll get happy in kansas. i hope he does. but getting to see rebecca’s “happily ever after” and not ted’s hurt my heart. guess i was hoping they would actually subvert the expectations and have him stay in the home he’d made for himself instead of going back to the place where he lost so much. why did he have to give up his found family and the job he loved (and was still actively learning about!! offsides!!) and the best friend he made and the support system he found (which, no matter your age or your progress, you always need a support system) and the community that had come to love him andandand- all ted did was sacrifice to make other people happy and better and this feels like another sacrifice because his mom guilt tripped him by saying something he already fucking knew (sorry i’m not a fan of dottie). i just don’t get it. how is his happy ending going back to the root of all his problems and staying there? just sucks, really, even if it was always the obvious outcome. sixth, i’m just mad all the signs lead to nowhere. the matchboxes, the army man, the bantr fakeout (will never, ever be over this one), the hotel room fakeout where they cut from rebecca to ted in the room and then he opens the door and it’s sassy, the romcommunism, the soulmatism. it wasn’t all for nothing, of course. their friendship is so important and i love it, but this ending felt like a big fuck you to it too because ted was so…distant. it almost felt like he didn’t care that much that he was leaving rebecca and it makes me super upset. all of this is based on the one-time watch from last night but tbh i don’t know if i can handle watching the episode again right now. it really did hurt, especially the way rebecca looked at him at the airport. tbh nothing can convince me she wasn’t at least a little bit in love with him. and, yes, i know. henry is ted’s everything and that’s so admirable and it’s not all about romance, and it’s not. but just let me believe what i want to believe. let me find the joys in the media i consume and if it’s the hope that two attractive, single, middle aged leads could have gotten with each other in the end and figured out how to be happy together, then so be it. i just hate seeing the hate from all sides, honestly, and a lot of people are legitimately really mean about it when this show is all about being kind. ted lasso is a beautiful series and, at the end of the day, it’s just another piece of media that the audience is free to interpret and pick apart however they want to. me, personally? i will continue to live in my delusional little world where ted and rebecca figure out that they belong together/i will pretend the last 10 minutes of the finale didn’t happen. thanks for coming to my tedtalk.

[wwbtsdty]

Set My Soul On Fire [ 1 ] | 18+

Summary: The chances of meeting your soul flame were almost one in a eight billion, the only way of knowing you were a match? You had to happen to be in close proximity of each other, so how were you ever to find your one true flame when they possibly lived halfway around the globe. When you find out you matched with not one but four members from the biggest boy band in the world, you weren’t sure if you were incredibly lucky or headed for devastating heartbreak, but you were willing to find out.

Rating: 18+

Genre: idol!au, smut, angst, fluff

Pairings: Jungkook x Reader, Taehyung x Reader, Jimin x Reader, Namjoon x Reader, Yoongi x Hoseok

Status: Ongoing

Word Count: 6.7k+

Warnings: Explicit language, dom!jungkook, dom!jimin, dom!taehyung, dom!namjoon, sub!reader, slow burn smut, depictions of violence, possessiveness, polyamory, mentions of blood, anxiety, insecurities, trauma, jealousy, sexual tension. 

Author’s Note: More warnings to be added in later chapters. This is my first fanfic I’m sharing with the public, so please be kind. I’m working on becoming a better writer, for now sometimes this might seem like a jumbled mess, but practice makes perfect! Hopefully I can at least convey the stories I want in the best way I can. This is all fictional. 

Soul Flame | noun

A being with which you share a bond that cannot be broken.

A being who can feel their mates feelings and thoughts.

Soul Flames came into existence shortly after I had entered middle school, I can still remember the news reports blasting across every channel. You couldn’t turn on the television, radio or even walk down the street without being bombarded by the news. 

“Real or Fake?! First existence of soul mates discovered in Europe!”

“New phenomenon discovered, scientists have named Soul Flames!”

Soul Flames were people you instinctually bonded with, but the catch was only one person would be able to feel their soul flame initially, and only when they were within a short distance of each other. Scientists were still trying to figure out why only one person in the bond would be able to feel what the other person was feeling upon first meeting. Only when the bond was complete with your soul flame the other bond would be able to feel their thoughts and feelings.

The term Soul Flame had come from what happened upon mating. I guess each bond had a unique “flame” when they mated, the soul flames had described it as a colorful aura that enveloped them and created a feeling, which of course, couldn’t be described by anyone other than the bonded, as it wasn’t visible to the naked eye. This in itself made the idea of soul flames a lot for people to believe in, seeing is believing after all.

Everyone went a little crazy after the first announcement, running around getting as close to anyone they found remotely attractive to see if a bond would appear. After the first month though was when things really started to turn sideways. Without having any visible way of telling who was truly your soul flame, people started using this to their own advantage. Lying about being someone’s soul flame to get them to sleep with them, steal from them or worse. As quickly as a year from announcing the first bonded pair, the term Soul Flame had become synonymous with ghosts and Bigfoot, something the government would rather sweep under the rug then acknowledge.

When you had to be in such a short distance of your soul flame to even find one, how in the 8 million people in the world would you ever meet such a person, if they even existed?

April 16, 2022 - Las Vegas

BTS was currently the hottest boy band of the century, and you had somehow been lucky enough to score tickets to their first concert since the pandemic ended.

Normally you weren't much of a concert goer, masses of people squeezed tighter than sardines, girls shrieking and crying... you'd rather walk over hot coals. But, for Bangtan you were willing to make the sacrifice. To finally hear those gorgeous voices in person, see their lithe bodies dancing on stage. It had seemed only fate that their concert fell on your birthday, the perfect birthday present to yourself.

You glanced over at your friend dressed to kill, she looked like she was about to hit the red carpet, not the mosh pit that awaited us inside the stadium. You raised a brow at her questionable choice of shoes, 4 inch platform heels, you couldn't help the laughter that bubbled up. "How in the hell are you going to last all day in those heels Mel? I’m not helping you when you decide to ditch those bad boys and walk barefoot, remember what happened last time?" Last time being a party where she had drunkly thrown her shoes in the trash and then proceeded to step on some idiots broken beer bottle on our walk home.

She just scoffed at you, running her fingers down her body suggestively. "If you want to grab the bangtan boys attention you've got to dress the part, beauty is pain baby!"  To which you shook your head, “Seriously Mel, no more emergency room visits please.” You glanced around at the throngs of people swarming the stadium, you were shocked to find many if not all the girls were in fact dressed in their most eye-catching outfits, hair and makeup absolutely perfect. Sure there were some devoted army decked out in nothing but BTS gear, handmade signs held proudly with phrases like, “Marry Me Suga” or “Show me your Namtiddes,” a sign in particular that always made you chuckle.

Your eyes traveled down to your own plain tank top and denim shorts, topped off with your good ole beat up hot pink converse. You'd dressed knowing it was gonna be hot as hell in Vegas, let alone with all those bodies packed together. You could see the people now, straining as far across that threshold as they could get away with, fingers grasping for any member they could get there greedy fingers on. You didn’t feel like falling given your graceful status, you still remembered how much shit Mel gave you the last time you decided to wear heels and immediately ate it.

Not that you really cared how you looked, you knew no matter the show the boys put on it was just that, a show. I'm sure they thought some women.. or men(I don't pretend to know their sexual preference) in the crowd were hot. That's about as far as that goes though, some gossiping amongst each other, some flirting looks and dance moves, god help me if they sang Baepsae. But no one could honestly think anything would ever happen with one of them. Yes, they were devastatingly handsome, and they knew it. You had fallen in love with their music and dance moves long before their looks, the fact that they were hot was just a perk.

You finally reached the end of the line, a big burly man in a security jacket giving Mel a once over before scanning our tickets for entry. Music was blasting through the speakers as you walked into the stadium, you couldn’t help but wonder if the security guard was secretly an Army, maybe underneath that jacket he too had “Marry me Suga” on his shirt. Mel weaved through that crowd like she was in the matrix dragging you along for the ride, somehow we made it to the front of the stage unscathed.

Feedback rang throughout the stadium just as we got to our seats, the show was about to begin... cue the screaming girls. You quickly raised your hands to cover your ears against the onslaught, glancing over at Mel to complain only to suddenly be swarmed by crazed fans pushing to get as close to the stage as possible. 

“Fuck!” You shouted as you found yourself pressed harshly against the barrier, now you remember why you hated going to concerts in the first place. You were finding it difficult to breathe in this position, the crowd seemed to push harder, forcing your body almost across the barrier. Security guards were doing their best to force the masses back but were failing miserably. The familiar rush of adrenaline spread throughout your body, you felt the familiar onslaught of anxiety rearing its ugly head. Yet another reason you didn’t like to attend concerts, you knew not being able to breathe well was one of your triggers, silly you for thinking things could be different. You'd been working so hard with medication and psychologists to try to remedy this situation over the years, you thought you were prepared.

Please don’t do this to me now, I’ve waited for this moment for so long, the last thing I needed was a panic attack to ruin everything. 

You tried taking deep breaths in and out as you began to count the number of speakers on stage, a technique you had developed in therapy after discovering your need to distract your brain during the episodes. Still the adrenaline burned hotter in your body, the heat of Las Vegas was definitely not helping this situation. Nothing was working... you frantically searched the crowd for Mel. At this rate you were bordering on passing out, with this many people around you were bound to be trampled, here’s hoping she wouldn’t be attending your funeral. Here lies Y/N, trampled by crazed fans at a BTS concert after having a stupid panic attack.

Harsh Korean words echoed throughout the stadium, the sound of fighting ensued as people could be seen moving about quickly back stage, you could just make out two other people holding someone back as he tried to break away. Just as your eyesight started to blur a tuft of black hair came running on stage frantically, his worried eyes scouring the crowd as the screams from the crowd reached a crescendo. Your gaze met with his and you were suddenly falling as the world went black around you.

[ Italics will briefly signify Korean ]

“What were you thinking?! You could have gotten hurt, let alone the pictures that will be splattered across every front page!” 

“Fuck I wasn’t thinking hyung, you know that better than anyone! I just knew I had to get to her…. I could feel her.”

You could just make out people shouting around you, a loud crash registering as you blinked back into consciousness. You let out a brief whine squinting against the blinding fluorescent lights. Shit you felt like you’d been hit by a semi truck. You try hard to remember what happened, flashes of screaming fan girls and not being able to breathe clouding your vision.

“Guys she’s waking up, let’s all just calm down and not freak her out more than she already will be.”

You registered someone gently cradling your hand, sweeping their fingers softly across your wrist in comfort. “Hey there, go slowly.. you fell and hit your head pretty hard. How are you feeling?” A deep voice whispered,  your eyes fully opening to the sight of four men crowding around you.

All at once everything came back to you, the concert, the crushing swarm of fan girls, the sweltering heat causing your anxiety to skyrocket before you ultimately lost consciousness. But more importantly… was Park Jimin from BTS currently holding your hand or did you actually get crushed to death?

You nervously snatched your hand from his grasp, frantically shuffling backwards in your confusion as an arm shot out to steady you before you fell off the couch. “Yah! Careful!” You glanced down to the tattooed arm wrapped around your stomach then up to the person it belonged to, large almond eyes stared worriedly into your own making your stomach to clench.

“J-… ungkook? Jeon Jungkook?”

That familiar bunny smile on display that made your heart falter, he gave a shy nod as his arm tightened around you. 

“Wha-… What the hell is going on? Did I hit my head harder than I thought? Wait... am I dead? I’m dead aren’t I? I never thought this would be the way I would go, crushed by fan girls! I mean, granted I thought maybe you guys would at least be shirtless if I were in heaven…” The word vomit wouldn’t stop, you felt increasingly nervous as you rambled on taking in the members around you.

Jimin’s angel like laughter broke your reverie as he whispered softly, “I mean… I can make that happen if that’s what you want Y/N.” The blood rush to your face at his comment, warmth gathering in your stomach at the idea of Jimin shirtless. No doubt you were blushing based on the curious stares you were getting from Namjoon and Taehyung across the room.

Wait.. he had just spoken Korean hadn’t he? You were almost positive you didn’t know Korean.. did you?

I mean sure you had tried to learn it briefly one summer during lockdown, you thought it would be nice not have to rely on the captions when you watched your drama’s. But that was it, you knew just enough to get by. “How can I understand you?” You could feel everyone’s eyes on you as they considered your comment.

“Well, my best guess is because of the bond… but there’s never been another soul flame where someone spoke another language so...” Namjoon shrugged, explaining like it was the most natural thing in the world to understand. A nervous snort escaped you as you looked at Namjoon like he had grown horns, “Wait wait… what—did you say Soul Flame? Aren’t those like fairy tales you tell little girls and boys these days?”

Jungkook and Jimin suddenly looked like you had just kicked their puppy or something, “It’s not a fairy tale…” Taehyung piped in sullenly. Namjoon cleared his throat stepping closer, “Tae’s right, Soul Flames very much still exist and we believe you may be ours. Jungkook was more than willing to risk his life on just that. ” He shot jungkook a glare, that all too familiar chin jutting out angrily. Jungkook pulled you tightly against him until you could feel the hard planes of his chest burning into your back, “I wasn’t going to stand by and do nothing,” He spoke vehemently under his breathe.

You were still stuck on one keyword in his sentence, “Ours? Ours who? You don’t mean…” You signaled to all four of them, “All of you are my Soul Flames? I thought you only had 1 Soul Flame… if it even existed.” You weren’t ever expecting to find your Soul Flame in your lifetime, no one really did, let alone 4 of them. How in the hell did that even work?

“Honestly, we’re not sure how this happened either, maybe it’s because we have such a strong bond as members that this happened? There’s so much that’s not known about Soul Flames, no one really cares to research anymore after all that has happened. There could be many multiple person pairs out there we just don’t know about.” Namjoon sighs rubbing at his temple in annoyance, “What we do know is we will have to deal with the repercussions tomorrow morning of Jungkooks display, right now we’d just like to get you somewhere safe. We rushed you back stage after you collapsed and had our physician on staff check you out while you were under. He said you’d probably just have a bad headache and some bruising but nothing too serious.” He handed you a bottle of water and some pills, “Aspirin, I’m sure your head is killing you after that fall.”

You had momentarily forgotten just how crappy you felt, quickly downing the medicine and water. “Thank you, now that you mentioned it my head is really killing me…” rubbing at the back of your head, you were sure there would be a nice bump back there tomorrow… “Wait! What about the concert?” You exclaimed, hoping you hadn’t ruined everything. Jungkook rested his chin on your shoulder squeezing you reassuringly, “We postponed it… we’ll get on VLive later tonight to console Army’s, I’m sure they will understand.” Oh sure, you’ll just explain that some random girl is now bonded to 4 of the hottest boy band members in the world, this would go over real well. Mel would so get a kick out of your predicament, you were always one who stayed as far from the spotlight, unlike your attention loving friend.

Mel! Shit! She was probably worried sick, or not if she had seen Jungkook jump off stage and carry me off. “Where are my things? I need to text Mel she’s probably worried sick about me.”

Jimin handed me my purse from the side table with a small smile, his fingers lingering on mine as I took it from him. I quickly shot off a text to Mel, leaving out of course that I was with BTS and somehow they thought I was their Soul Flame.

I’m okay, will explain later, go back to the hotel without me.

My phone chimed almost immediately.

Bitch I’d hope your better than okay after myself and everyone else in the world saw you get carried away in Jungkook’s arms. TELL ME EVERYTHING!! 😈

You groaned, you should have expected this...

I can’t explain right now, I promise I’ll talk to you when I can. xoxo 

Tucking your phone into your purse as you ignored the string of chimes erupting from a no doubt angry Mel, you heard rather than saw Namjoon shuffle closer, “I do hope you know discretion is best in times like this… I know you're not familiar with paparazzi but they can be brutal. We'll let our managers decide how to deal with everything, so please don’t mention anything to anyone yet.” You totally agreed with him, “Of course, I won’t say a thing… not like anyone would believe me anyway,” you whispered under your breathe. 

“Great, so we’ve already got a room ready for you at the hotel, we have gone ahead and doubled our security in light of tomorrows headlines. We all agreed we would feel safer with you nearby where we can protect you. The rest of the group has gone on ahead. I can send someone out to get your belongings if you let me know where you were staying.” Namjoon rattled off so matter of fact it made your head reel, you just nodded along as you were still processing the fact that you were going to be in the same hotel, no the same floor even as BTS.

Jimin reached down to help you up but Jungkook had beat him to it, hoisting you up into his arms and tucking you against his chest securely. You wiggled in protest, “Wait! I can walk. I’m sure i’m heavy!” He just smiled down at me, “Muscle Bunny... remember?” Your stomach did that weird flip flop again, his face so close to yours, that little mole under his lip driving you to distraction.

Taehyung placed a hat and some sunglasses on you, giving a little shrug, “Just in case, we’ve cleared a path to the vans but you never know.”

We arrived at some sort of underground parking garage, a black van with tinted windows was waiting for us. Jungkook swiftly tucked me into one of the waiting bucket seats, fastening my seat belt for me. Just as he was about to sit in the unoccupied bucket seat beside me Taehyung nudge him out of the way taking the seat and securing his seat belt. He stuck his tongue out at Jungkook signaling to the back seats, “You’ve had her long enough, my turn!” 

The ride to the hotel was uneventful, luckily the other vans with the other members had left earlier garnering the attention of the fans, so it was pretty much a ghost town by the time you left. You stared thoughtfully out at the brilliantly lit streets, mobs of people littering the Las Vegas Strip. Normal people up until recently you had been, you still wondered if this was just a dream you’d wake up from any minute. Taehyung softly took your hand in his with a coy smile as you turned his way, his thumb sweeping across your wrist. “You okay?” You gave him a tired smile, feeling beyond exhausted all of sudden. “Yah.. just tired, I think everything is hitting me all at once.” You sighed softly, feeling strangely comforted by his gesture.

The rest of the drive was silent as you drifted in and out, trying your best to keep your eyes open. Taehyung gave your shoulder a squeeze making you to look over to him, “We’re here… don’t worry, security has taken care of everything. We’ll take a private elevator to our floor, we have the whole floor so nobody will be able to have access that shouldn’t. We’ll keep you safe.” You looked around the van at the rest of the guys, all sharing a similar smile, Taehyung gave a tiny hwaiting.

[ Italics no longer signifies Korean ]

Just as Taehyung had said, the way up to the rooms was relatively painless. So this is what the VIP experience is like you thought, as you headed towards the last elevator, you were blinded by a bright light the moment you rounded the corner, the boys rushed you into the elevator crowding around you protectively. You found yourself pressed up against Jungkook’s chest, someone else forming a solid wall behind you. The security guards blocked the elevator with their bodies as well until the doors closed in front of you.

“Dammit.” You heard Namjoon whisper behind you, oh so that's who that was you thought. “How did they find us...” He sighed, his fingers gently sweeping down your arm in reassurance, whether for you or him you weren’t quite sure. You squirmed between Jungkook and Namjoon awkwardly, feeling your face flush at your current predicament. Namjoon’s breathe feathered softly across your neck sending shivers down your spine, a current of arousal shot through you as the heat from both their bodies permeated yours. A groan erupted behind you, Jungkook’s fingers digging into your sides sharply.

A thought suddenly occurred to you, if they were telling the truth and you really were bonded, then they could feel your emotions.. fuck.You bit your lip trying to contain your thoughts as you squirmed in their grasp trying to put some distance between you. It was futile of course, with five people crowded in the elevator there was barely enough room to breathe. 

“Please stop moving.” Namjoon grunted behind you going deathly still, you were suddenly very aware of something hard pressing against your ass. “Sorry,” you squeaked out ceasing your movements, your eyes glued to the elevator numbers slowly going up. Your mind betrayed you, suddenly recalling the way Namjoon’s shirt had clung to his chest in the most recent VLive, everyone had taken notice since he started working out, and with him pressed up against your back there was no way you couldn’t take notice of his recent efforts. You only just resisted the urge not to press yourself back against him, Namtiddies indeed. 

You could feel Namjoon’s gaze burning a hole in the back of your head the entire rest of the ride, Jungkook’s fingers kneading the flesh of your waist gently. These boys were going to be the death of you, like literal combustion. The elevator finally announced your floor and you could not get out fast enough, shoving your way around Jungkook you practically sprinted out the door into the penthouse, breathing in deeply you placed a hand on your chest willing your heart to calm down. 

The boys slowly sauntered out after, you noticed more than a few of them having to adjust themselves. Nope, no no no you did not just notice that! You shook your head trying to look anywhere but their crotches. You couldn’t figure out what was wrong with you, the longer you stayed in their presence the hotter your arousal for them burned. Of course they were hot, millions of fans around the world plastering their seductive dances and facial expressions on the internet couldn’t be wrong. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t ever stumble upon a fan fiction or YouTube video. First things first, figure out what situation you had gotten yourself into and how not to get killed by ARMY.

Taehyung was the first to speak up, “We have two penthouse suites on this floor, myself, Namjoon, Jimin and Jungkook are in this suite. So we thought it would be best you stayed here with us.” Jimin directed you towards a room on the right, “This is your room, it used to be Jungkook’s room since he won the single room, but he graciously agreed to let you have it and bunk on the couch.” Shaking your head adamantly you stepped towards the couch, “You don’t have to do that, I’m totally fine sleeping on the couch. Besides it’ll probably the most expensive couch I’ve ever slept on by the looks of this place.”

Jungkook quickly jumped on the couch, spreading out and making himself at home, “Your our Soul Flame, you get the bedroom. We all agreed you should have some privacy, I’m sure this is as strange a circumstance for us as it is for you. Besides It’s not the first couch I’ve had to sleep on.” Taehyung gave you a gentle nudge in the direction of your room, inside was a queen size bed, an en suite bathroom to the right with a large claw foot tub; you would definitely be utilizing that at some point.

“We’ll let you have a moment to yourself, whenever you're ready come on out to the living room and we’ll talk, okay?” The door closed with a quiet click behind Namjoon. You could hear muted whispers from the living room as you face planted onto the bed with a giant sigh. How in the actual hell had you gone from a normal girl attending a concert to suddenly sleeping in the same penthouse as BTS. You rolled onto your back starring up at the ceiling, quickly grabbing a pillow to shove your face into to conceal your loud squeal.

Alright, calm down Y/N. You’ve got to talk to everyone and figure out what the hell is going on.

You wanted to say they were mistaken, who were you to be the Soul Flame to 4 of the hottest boy band members in the world? You could barely make it through college, between your anxiety and loosing your father, some days you could barely get out of bed. How would you even know if was real? Though its not like they had anything to gain from pretending to be your soul flames, they were the ones risking so much on a girl like you, the ones with the most to lose.

If you were to believe you were truely Soul Flames, you had definitely ended up on the wrong side of the bond, you couldn’t feel any of their emotions. The only thing you got was this ever burning arousal, intrusive thoughts of stripping each of them bare to finally see how they looked underneath those costumes, brief glimpses you'd had of Jungkook’s abs and Namjoons chest in pictures flashed vividly in your thoughts. Your mind already imagining their sweaty bodies entangled with yours--Whoa, down girl! Maybe I needed to take a cold shower after all.

You heard someone choking outside your door, along with some other colorful expletives causing you to flush bright red, you had forgotten the whole thought sharing thing yet again, this was really going to take some getting used to, you really needed to get your this under control. Covering your face with your hands you curled up on the bed in embarrassment wondering how you would face them now.

Outside in the living room everyone had gathered including Yoongi, Jin and Hoseok.

Jungkook choked on his water, coughing loudly as a very vivid image suddenly entered his mind. Jimin’s eyes widened at the same time whispering a curse under his breathe, they both glanced towards your door. “Alright, lets try not to make her uncomfortable… I can only imagine what's it’s like for her, having one person let alone four know what you're thinking and feeling without being able to stop it.” Namjoon stood up declaring to the room, he looked directly over at Hoseok and Yoongi who were laughing at their members predicament.

“Yah, don’t look at us! We’ve already been through this shit once, paybacks a bitch as they say.” Yoongi continued laughing his ass off, Hoseok nudging him in the ribs to indicate that was enough. “Look, we’ll help as much as we can, but just because we’re Soul Flames doesn’t mean she’ll believe us either.” Hoseok shrugged regarding his mate with a fond smile.

Namjoon happened a glance over at Jin, he was smiling but he knew him better, Jin was devastated. All the talk amongst the group after SOPE had officially been announced as Soul Flames, the excited chatter in the group at their potential future partners, Jin had always seemed the most excited; he couldn’t help feeling horrible at the situation. Jin was the only one in the group without a mate now, “Hyung...” Jin shook his head, smiling gently at Namjoon, “Don’t, this is a happy occasion. You guys have found your Soul Flame, I can’t wait to meet her. Besides, our world tour coming up I’m bound to meet my fated one as well!” Truth be told of course he was hurting, but he’d never want to dampen his brothers elation at having found their mate. Who would have thought that the rest of the members would match with one woman, it was unheard of. There had only been two person pairs, never has there been a five person pair.. at least not one that had come out in public he thought.

“Is she ever going to come out?” Taehyung whined, pacing the floor anxiously, Jimin cautiously approach the door knocking softly, “Y/N? Baby? You okay in there… you’ve been in there a while now, everyone’s getting antsy.” All eyes turned to the door as it slowly creaked open, you peeked out into the living room. Hoseok sprang into action, jumping from the couch and bounding straight towards you causing you to stumble back at his eagerness, he quickly enveloped you in his arms, “We finally meet! I’m J-Hope! Of course you know that! But I wanted to properly introduce myself!” Even his hugs felt like sunshine, his contagious smile instantly relaxing you as you melted in his embrace. Yoongi had walked up behind while laughed along with Hobi. “You finally came out, we were beginning to wonder.” Smiling shyly you nodded, “I just needed some time… this has all been a lot today.” Yoongi nodded along with you crossing his arms over his chest, “Yes, I’m sure its a lot to take in… I hope the boys have treated you well so far.”

Jin appeared around the corner, a cart full of every kind of food known to mankind. “I didn’t know what you liked but I thought you might be hungry! I would have made something but alas no kitchen, we’ll get some of World Wide Handsome’s famous cooking in your belly soon enough though!” Your stomach growled right on queue, you didn’t even realize how hungry you had become with everything that had happened. Jin pulled out a chair for you as he began unloading all the dishes on the table, “Well don’t just stand there staring, this food isn’t going to eat itself!” Namjoon shook his head as the rest of the boys groaned at the horrible dad joke, Jin just laughed at his own joke as usual, you were beginning to realize the boys you had seen in so many video’s were really the same when the camera’s were off.

Everyone gathered around the table taking their seats, Jungkook and Jimin rushing to make your plate, you watched begrudgingly as they filled it to the brim, “Guys! there’s no way I’m going to be able to eat all that,” You snatched the plate from them before they could start in on a second plate for you. Jimin pouted sullenly drawing your attention to those pillowy soft lips, you bit your lower lip imaging it was his. You had always wondered how good his lips would feel on yours. He had such plush kissable lips, they had always drawn your attention whenever you saw his photographs. Jimin’ caged you against the table suddenly, his hands on either side of you as he pressed himself flush against you, “Wanna find out?” His breathe fanned across your jaw, lips brushing ever so softly against your ear as he spoke, your heart pounded in your chest, gripping the table behind you tightly. A smirk lifted his lips as he placed a soft kiss to your neck, backing up to take in your flushed predicament. Just as quickly as the smirk had appeared his familiar angelic smile replaced it as he released you from his spell to pull out a chair for you.

He loved that he was able to affect you so much, he could only imagine just how far that blush would spread down your body when he had you underneath him, would your breasts flush such a lovely shade of red as well. Would your body be pliant in his arms as he covered your body with these lips you seemed to love so, if you’d let him he would worship you with them as you deserved. Shaking away the daydreams he sat down next to Taehyung and reigned himself in, he didn’t want to rush you and scare you away, so he would behave himself until the time was right.

You sat in stunned silence, casting your face down as if the plate of food was suddenly incredibly interesting. Taehyung sat down next to you shooting daggers Jimin’s way, he quickly reached out to grab your hand, “No fair Y/N, I want a kiss too!” He began sprinkling kisses along your knuckles, nipping your index finger to get your attention on him causing you to gasp. He sent you a sly smile as he took the tip of your finger into his mouth apologetically, giving it a soft kitten lick. The sexual tension in the room skyrocketed, a warmth quickly spreading through you abdomen as you watched Taehyung press a kiss to each of your fingertips.

A loud crack rang out as Namjoon smacked his hands down on the table causing everyone to jump, you snatched your hand back grateful for the break in attention. “Yah! Give Y/N some room to breathe for crying out loud!” He wasn’t sure if he was just mad he hadn’t been in their place or worried for your sake, what he did know is they were going to scare you away at this rate. He knew the feelings on one side of the bond came on strong, much stronger than the other side, he had seen it happen with Yoongi and Hobi, but feeling it was a whole other matter in itself. It had taken all of his strength not to jump across the table when he sensed your arousal earlier, he wanted to lock you away, fuck you into accepting them as your Soul Flames, watch as you fell apart under him screaming his name until your voice went hoarse. Watching the rest of his brothers garnering your attention was driving him crazy. He knew he had to be the voice of reason as always for the group, the younger members were always ones to give into their emotions, so he had to control his in order for some sort of order.

Everyone went silent after the outbreak, turning their attention to their food. Once everyone had just about finished eating Namjoon decided it was time to address the matter at hand, “So, Y/N… I know this is probably a lot to comprehend, that’s why I wanted to include Yoongi and Hobi for this conversation to answer whatever questions you have regarding Soul Flames. As you and the rest of the world know, they are Soul Flames so they’ve been through this process before.” You had almost forgotten they had been revealed to the world as Soul Flames, it having been so early in their career, their business wasn’t as wide spread online as it is now. I think many had brushed it off as something staged for publicity, but hearing it was real was somewhat reassuring. There would be someone who has gone through this before, someone to rely on and answer all the question burning in the back of your mind.

“Whatever you need, I’m here. Even if its just someone to talk to when the boys get to be too much!” Hobi smiled in my direction as Namjoon continued, “I think we felt you the moment you entered the stadium, but it was rather hard to distinguish our feelings of excitement from yours. It wasn’t until we felt your fear that we knew our Soul Flame was close.”

Jungkook reached out entwining his fingers with yours, “I felt like I was suffocating, everyone wanted to wait, send out a bodyguard to find you. But I just had to get to you, I couldn’t fight it… and the Hyungs couldn’t hold me back. I’m sorry for creating this problem, I wish I had been better able to control myself.” You felt your heart sink, the last thing you wanted was to make him feel so sad and ashamed of himself, something inside of you never wanted these men to ever feel pain or sadness. You squeezed his hand tightly shaking your head adamantly, “It’s alright, please don’t feel bad about anything that happened. I’m sure I could have been injured worse had you not stepped in when you did. I’m sure your company will be able to deal with everything, right?” His eyes shined brightly giving you a wide smile, using your entertwined hands to pull you into him and hug you tightly. He was squeezing you so tightly for a moment you felt all the breathe leave you lungs, you gave a little squeak trying to signal that he was holding you too tightly. “Kook… too tight.” He immediately released you as you gulped in air, everyone laughing as Jungkook’s blushed.

“I know its hard to accept you are our Soul Flame, I can’t really explain how we know… we just, we can feel you… like you’re a part of our thoughts, your emotions driving ours. When you feel an emotion strongly its all we can feel, it takes over everything inside us, That’s why Kook, and all of us really, went a little crazy when we felt your anxiety, your fear. Kook has just always been the most emotional of all of us, that might be why he did what he did without thinking of the consequences.” Taehyung spoke softly, hoping to convey a little bit of what they felt.

“We can take things as slow as you want, we are just glad you came into our lives. We want to learn everything about you, spend time with you and hope you in turn develop the same bond we feel. We understand it will be hard, but now that we’ve found you we don’t want to live without you.” Namjoon’s words caused your heart to race, could someone like you really be all that they hoped for. What if you didn’t live up to their expectations, you weren’t some beautiful actress, you weren’t even Korean. How could you possibly ever hope to keep their love, there were millions of people in the world better than you to be their Soul Flame, why would you ever think the world has chosen you.

You sighed deeply, “How could this ever work…? My life is here, my friends are here. I have a few weeks left in my semester. Not to mention you guys are— well your BTS and I’m just, me. You guys have to go back to Korea, back to your lives.” Even if you did believe you were meant to be with them, there was just no way it would ever work out, you were both from two different worlds.

“We don’t know exactly how yet, but we will find a way to make it work. Please just, can you try…” Your heart ached as you glanced at Jungkook who looked on the verge of tears before taking in each of their heartbroken expressions.

“We still have concerts to put on here in the US, we could stay until you have finished your semester. Then maybe you would like to come to Korea with us for the summer? We would take care of everything… consider it a vacation?” Namjoon quickly formulated a plan upon seeing the rest of his members sad faces, with the postponement of the concerts they could easily move some things around until Y/N finished. He just hoped she would be able to then fly back with them, let them show her around Korea and hopefully convince her of their bond in the meantime.

You breathed in deeply gathering your strength, “I have never been to Korea before…” maybe, just maybe you could take a leap of faith for once in your life and be brave.

Next ⇢

[azapofinspiration]

Been having some SKK PJO AU thoughts on Discord so I’m sharing them here too. I know what parents usually get assigned to them but hear me out.

Dazai arrived and they saw his intelligence and strategies and they thought, "Oh, he's a son of Athena actually." But with his love of messing with people, and his excellence at whatever he put his mind to, made some think Hermes could also be a contender. Though some people said, with his gloomy aura, obsession with suicide, and that dark empty eyes, perhaps he was a son of Hades or even Thanatos himself.

No one was prepared for Dazai to be claimed by one of their least likely candidates: Aphrodite.

Him? A son of Aphrodite? When he barely showered and thought bandages were fashionable, and kept his distance so he barely had any friends? (They ignored how pretty and handsome he was despite all of this. That should've been a clue.)

But soon it's clear that he inherited a gift from his mother, one that was deadly when combined with his intellect and skills: Charmspeak. He could convince you of anything. And it made kids even more reluctant to approach him.

Except for one, who thought everyone else was just chicken.

With his prowess in fighting, everyone pegged Chuuya as a son of Ares, even if the god had yet to claim him. He laid waste to all of his opponents, no matter their skill or size. He enjoyed a good fight, a decent challenge.

But most just saw him as a fighter. They didn't acknowledge his cleverness, his instincts, his loyalty. They didn't see how kind he was to those around him, just how much he cared.

They didn't see how much he was holding himself back, the devastation he could unleash.

They didn't know until they went to war, and it was clear that his parent wasn't as simple of a god as War.

Chuuya utterly destroyed the enemy. Chaos and disorder followed in his wake. He brought nothing but ruin. And if he were to lose himself to it, not even his allies would be spared.

His godly parent laid claim to him: Perses, the Titan God of Destruction, embodying the worst aspects of war, the devastation and disorder.

And the other campers became afraid of him too.

Dazai wasn't though. He saw Chuuya fighting and it was the most beautiful thing in the entire world.

Even before then, Chuuya was one of the few people who'd approach him and worry over him, scold him. Chuuya was bold and bright and everything Dazai was not.

Though most hadn't seen Chuuya, he did. Though Chuuya could still surprise him every now and then. It’s what made him interesting.

And this was just the icing on the cake.

They soon became the most formidable pair in Camp Half-Blood. They were hard enough to beat individually but combined? No human, monster, or perhaps even god could stand up to them.

And in a way, they needed each other.

Chuuya kept Dazai tethered to the world, forcing him to take care of himself and (supposedly begrudgingly) hanging out with him. And if Chuuya lost himself to his destructive powers, devastating friend, foe, and himself alike, then Dazai's Charmspeak was the only thing that could reach him.

And thus they became partners.

[likeadevils]

what songs from TTPD and TA are now yours? Which ones have spoken to you the most?

songs that are genuinely MINE

chloe or sam or sophia or marcus: i cried myself to sleep listening to this song on repeat on release night and for the life of me i cant tell you why. i think it’s a great example of her being older really deepening her writing— just that old scarred over longing of a possible life, a possible love, too far away to reach but close enough to brush past. also, the double edged sword of “if you want to break my cold, cold heart, just say’ i loved you the way that you were’”— you loved me before i’d twisted myself into the shape i am now in order to keep my current partner, but also, you loved me the way i was, not the way i am now

i look in peoples windows: i wrote a poem with the line “im afflicted by the not knowing” in it!! inspired by the outside!! and by spending so much of my childhood reading by moonlight and spying on my neighbors through their windows!!! it was called where midnight lives!!! what the fuck!!!

robin: another song i sobbed hysterically to. i was a strange little violent child obsessed with dinosaurs it feels like a lullaby someone made specifically about 3 year old me.

songs that i’m obsessed with:

but daddy i love him: the bridge is just so fun to scream along to. everytime ive been in a car since the album came out ive played this at least two times just cause

fresh out the slammer: it’s just. the first verse??? the way the song stutters apart for the last verse??? this song takes the blurry muse conceit of the album and uses it to its fullest. also just the diminishing returns from “but its gonna be alright, i did my time”

i can do it with a broken heart: my first listen favorite

the smallest man who ever lived: the bridge????? the bridge???? the bridge???? a few of the negative reviews specifically mentioned this song as boring and for a millisecond i was so angry i could’ve exploded

the black dog: this is like, the platonic ideal of a taylor swift song to me. just that old quiet tragedy she can build out of little moments of hoping your ex will remember you when they hear your favorite song or not having known your last kiss was your last kiss or your ex still sharing their location with you. like, it’s just her at her best, but with the maturity to sing “and you jump up, but she’s too young to know this song”

i hate it here: people have talked about seeing reputation in the anthology but i think you can also see so much debut and it makes me feel so tender. also i genuinely don’t understand why people don’t like “if chose the 1830s but without all the racists” like?? it’s supposed to be a bit clunky?? the songs about the limits of escapism?? the line enhances both of those themes?? also “i’m there most of the year” is such a funny devastating relatable lyric to say about a daydream

thank you aimee: it’s not every day a song inspires you to send this message about something a child did to you (fuck you madeline!!! fuck you jessie!!!)

the bolter: avoidant attachment representation!!! i love that it takes the stuff she hated about herself in the archer and just accepts and loves them and appreciates what they’ve given her. i especially love it because bolt can mean like, crossbow bolts, so it’s a flip on the archer. also “bolt” is one of my favorite words i love all the different meanings

“the only thing that’s left is the manuscript, one less souvenir from my trip to your shores, now and then i re-read the manuscript, but the story isnt mine anymore” also just had me sobbing. there’s just. wtf!!!!!!

[avonne-writes]

Hi lovely, sorry if you've already made a post about this but,

Do you have any hc's about the scene in ep 9 where Buck and Bucky are sitting up on the tower together? I love that scene so much because we see all the chaos and partying going on, which Bucky is usually the center of, but this time, he's content to sit it out. And we see Buck drinking, which is also a change. It's like subtle nods to how everything that happened in the war might've changed them.

But I always wonder how they ended up there, what sort of feelings or conversations they might've had in that moment. Realizing that they're both still alive together, and they're going home. I also think a lot about Buck drinking, and if that was a one time thing to celebrate or if he drinks more after the war to cope with it all. Also if the other guys on base are like, uhh where tf did Buck and Bucky go? Lol

Anyways, would love to hear any thoughts you have. Your fics and hc's are always so spot on and beautiful!!

Hi dear! Thank you do much, I’m glad you like my fics and headcanons ❤️ Sorry for taking so long with my reply. I loved that scene! When we first got to the celebration part in the show, I was squinting at my screen trying to see where those two were in the crowd and I melted when they cut to them on the roof.

My headcanons about this:

Yes, this scene definitely indicates that they both changed. It’s shown by Bucky not partying and Buck drinking, but that's just a way to illustrate a change that probably goes much deeper.

They seem to adapt more to each other than before. Like an old married couple mirror each other and have the same habits.

I think it also shows how they're shoulder to shoulder come what may. What matters the most is that they're together, they only want to share that moment with each other.

They're not exactly happy there. I like how this was portrayed, because I think it’s so real that after what they've gone through, the end of it all is devastating too, and it leaves an empty feeling behind. Once you don’t have to fight anymore, you have to cope with what you've seen. You have to plan the future, figure out who you are after everything - it’s heavy.

I don’t think Buck would start drinking to cope after the war, but I think Bucky would drink more heavily, at least for a while.

I think they just drifted away from the others naturally. Didn’t even need to talk about it. They both felt the same strange mix of sadness and relief, and I think that they both felt no one else could understand because the other fellas hadn't been through the same ordeal with them.

A sad thought - I don’t think the others looked for them because they were more used to them not being there. Buck and Bucky were resurrected ghosts to them. Not really existing on the same plane anymore.

This scene will be in Reverie, so I'll explore more of the emotional parts of it there. 🥰

[player1064]

Ok after the amazing angst one about their first time might I request a hurt/comfort… I love the complications of them being secretly together as players. Maybe Gary (srry bby) gets injured in a match and it’s scholes that has to tell Jamie and that’s how they come out to their friends or to the world, maybe Jamie’s there, idkkkkkk but something in the following of the SAF finding out one? 😁❤️

tbh like. at this point this is fully just a full length fic. perhaps I'm insane about them...

LOVE the idea of them being together in their playing days. wish I could find footage of Gary breaking his ankle but there's none!!!!!

Set as a sort of prequel to this one from a few days ago

---

17th March 2007

Jamie is on the team bus headed for Birmingham when it happens. Up front, the radio is playing match coverage, but he’s sat further back, he and Stevie too busy holding court with the players sat around them to pay it much attention. It’s always a good idea to keep an eye on what United are doing, but as it stands they’re twenty points clear of Liverpool and are certainly going to get another three today – it’s only Bolton, and they’re at home too.

So, he’s on the bus when it happens, but he doesn’t find out until the team is sat around watching Match of the Day later that evening. Even then, he doesn’t get to see the footage, the only mention that anything happened at all being a short “Gary Neville came off after 11 minutes with an ankle injury.”

His teammates cheer and Jamie tries to laugh along, but all he can think is why hasn’t he texted.

“Reckon that’s him off England squad this summer, then” Stevie says, grinning, “finally, some peace and quiet. An’ they’ll be needing someone to step in for ‘im, Carra, you might get more minutes.”

“I fuckin’ hate playin’ right back,” he groans, rolling his eyes (why hasn’t he texted why hasn’t he texted why hasn’t he texted).

He makes a show of looking at the clock, says something about needing to call his parents to let them know he’s got to the hotel alright, and high-tails it out of there to go back to his and Stevie’s empty room.

Still no texts, so he brings Gary’s number up and calls, pacing the floor while it rings.

It takes longer than usual, but eventually he’s greeted with a quiet “’lo?” and breathes a sigh of relief.

“Are y’alright, love?” he asks quickly, his words rushing together. “Only just heard, else I’d’ve called sooner – what ‘appened? That twat Lineker was so vague.”

There’s a long pause, long enough that Jamie starts to wonder if his signal’s dropped out, and then:

A voice which he now hears is definitely not Gary, saying “this is Scholes.”

“Fuck,” he hisses, and snaps his phone shut.

His phone starts ringing a few seconds later.

Jamie, because maybe he’s a bit stupid, answers it.

“Yeah?”

“Er,” he hears Scholes say, “Who’m I speakin’ to, exactly? Gaz’s only got this number saved as ‘J’.”

“Um,” Jamie says, panicking. “I’m just a friend of ‘is, heard he got injured so wanted to check he were alright.”

“’e’s still waitin’ on some scans, but they reckon it’s broken,” Scholes says. “Gaz doesn’t really have friends, does he, outside of team. An’ you sound –”

“—Okay, good t’hear he’s alright, bye then.”

Jamie snaps his phone shut again and tosses it onto his bed, wipes both hands down his face.

Broken. Fuck. That’s him out for the remainder of the season, then, he’ll be devastated. At least he’s already racked up enough appearances to get a medal when United inevitably win the league, not that the prick needs another one of those.

This thing of theirs, whatever it actually is, it’s not been going on that long. Not even a full year, if you’re ignoring the few mistaken fumbles at England camps over the years and only counting from when they’d made it – not official, exactly, because again Jamie’s not entirely sure what it is they’d be making official – but as close to official as it’s likely to get.

Gary, the prick, would probably give him a smack if he said all that to him. It all comes a lot easier to him, the – the words, and the feelings. Jamie can almost hear him now, why’s everythin’ always so complicated w’you, Jamie, stop bein’ a baby and just admit I’m your boyfriend.

His ankle is probably broken. Jamie should be there.

He has a match tomorrow.

He sits on the end of his bed, hunched over with his head in his hands while he tries to sort through the mess in his head to work out what he’s meant to do. There’s a buzzing in his head that feels so loud he doesn’t notice the soft click of the door opening until there’s a dip in the mattress beside him and Stevie’s hand patting him on the shoulder.

“Y’alright, lad?” he asks gently, shifting his hand to rub firm circles on Jamie’s back. “We’re headin’ down for dinner soon, boss sent me to find you.”

“I’m fine,” he says automatically, but when he looks up he can see the disbelief in Stevie’s face. “I am, I just – if somethin’ happened to Alex, like, if she’d been hurt. Would you go home? Even if you’re meant to be startin’ tomorrow?”

“Of course,” Stevie replies, like he doesn’t even have to think about it. “’Course I would, you know that. She’s – y’know, she’s the mother of my children, in’t she? I’d drop anythin’.”

Jamie groans, puts his face back in his hands. “’s not helpful, Stevie.”

“Well, no, ‘cause you don’t ‘ave kids.” Stevie pauses for a second, frowns. “Unless you –”

“—No!” Jamie says quickly, shaking his head. “Christ, y’think I could ‘ave a secret family? Give us a break. No, it’s just – I dunno, I been seein’ someone, for a little bit now, and somethin’s happened, and – and I feel like I’m meant to go home, aren’t I? Help out? But I –”

“But you can’t miss the game tomorrow,” Stevie finishes for him, because of course he knows that, he knows him, knows how his head works. “So there’s yer answer. Carra, she won’t hold it against you. If she – I mean, does she love you? Are the two of yous, like – why’ve you not said anythin’?”

Jamie feels a twinge of guilt. “’s complicated,” he says with a sigh. “But we – I s’pose so, yeah. I s’pose you might say that we’re – that.”

Stevie, god bless the man, seems to lose any trace of annoyance or upset over being left out of the loop, and throws an arm around Jamie’s shoulder with a grin. “My boy’s in love!” he says, squeezing Jamie tight. “Too much of a prick to tell ‘is best mate, but what else is fuckin’ new? Look, Jay, I know you, don’t I? And if she knows you, then she’ll know you ‘ave to play this game. Long as she’s not dyin’, I’m sure she’ll understand waitin’ ‘til tomorrow evenin’ for you to get home.”

“Ha,” Jamie says humourlessly, still feeling guilt clawing away at his insides, “prob’ly won’t notice if I’m there or not, anyway.”

Stevie pats him on the shoulder one last time and then stands back up, nodding his head towards the door in question.

Jamie gets up too, but they’ve only taken a couple of steps towards the door when another wave of guilt crashes into him and he blurts out “Stevie –”

“I’m bloody starving, Carra, c’mon now.”

“Stevie,” he says again, clenching his fists at his sides. He can’t look at Stevie, is staring up at the ceiling instead as he says “’s not a girl. That I’ve been seein’. That’s why I couldn’t tell you.”

There’s a long pause, where it feels like the air between them is humming, and then Stevie just nods and says “okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

They make it all the way out of the room and into the lift down to the dining room when Stevie’s brow furrows for a second and then he turns to Jamie, eyes wide.

“Carra,” he says grimly, “please tell me the guy you’ve been seeing that’s got hurt today’s not another footballer.”

Jamie feels himself blush. “Um,” he replies.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, Jamie, what is wrong w’you?”

*

When Gary is wheeled back into his private hospital room, it’s to the sight of Scholesy sat in an armchair looking thoughtfully at the phone in his hands.

He blinks when he hears Gary come in, looks up with a grimace. “X-ray gone alright?”

Gary shrugs, looks away. “Broken,” he says, trying to sound nonchalant. “Like they thought. Guess it’s gonna be more’n just three weeks out, then.”

Scholesy sighs, deflating slightly. “’m sorry, Gaz.”

“Is what it is. They said I can go home now, at least, so that’s somethin’. You got all my things?”

“Yeah, give us a second,” Scholesy says, turning around to rummage through the pockets of the coat that’s hanging on the back of his chair. He pulls another phone out, opens it up. “I’ll call us a cab, yeah? Want me to stay at yours tonight?”

It takes a second to compute that if the new phone is Scholesy’s, then the one he’d been staring at when Gary came in was –

“Erm. Were there any calls for me, while I was out?”

“Yeah,” Scholesy says, back to sounding sort of distant.

Please be from my mum, Gary thinks desperately, almost wanting to squeeze his eyes shut while he waits for Scholesy to elaborate.

“Um, texts from the family, of course. But just the one call.”

He hands the phone back to Gary, who opens up the call log to see exactly what he was hoping he wouldn’t.

Still, there’s a little glowy feeling in his chest at the fact he’d called.

“Ah,” he says. “Did you, er, d’you speak to him?”

“For a minute,” Scholesy says carefully. “Said he were a friend of yours.”

“Yeah,” Gary says with a relieved chuckle. His idiot boyfriend is good for something, after all. “Yeah, he’s a good friend. Good of him to check up on us.”

Except, then Scholesy adds: “Sounded Scouse.”

“Ah, yeah,” he replies, rubs a hand over his jaw. “Well, can’t hold it against him, I s’pose.”

Except, then Scholesy looks him dead in the eye and says: “Called you ‘love’.”

Fuck,

Fuck.

“Scholesy,” he says, feeling panic rise up inside him, “Scholesy, I can explain –”

“First boyfriend in how many years and it’s a bloody Scouser,” Scholesy mutters, which –

Which isn’t what Gary had thought he’d say, not even close.

“You don’t – you don’t mind that he’s – that he’s a man?”

Scholesy frowns at him like he’s lost his marbles. “Well, what else would he be?”

“I – a woman, Scholesy!” Gary screeches.

“But you’re gay?”

“You’re not meant to know that!”

Scholesy’s eyes flit up towards the ceiling. “Oh my god,” he mutters. He looks back at Gary, voice even. “You are so annoying, d’you know that? Nobody cares about the gay thing.”

“Oh,” Gary says, even though his head is screaming other people know too???

“He sounded worried, your lad on the phone.”

Gary feels himself relax a bit as it finally clicks how nice it is to be able to talk about this. “Yeah,” he says fondly, “’cause he’s bloody stupid.”

Scholesy hums thoughtfully. “What’s ‘is name?”

Ah, right. There is still that one, teeny tiny little problem.

“Um,” he says. “’s name’s Jamie.”

There’s a brief second while Scholesy’s brain works through the complicated equation of ‘Jamie + Scouser’, and Gary can tell the exact moment it computes because his eyes go wide and he says “Carragher?”

[cacartoon]

(I don't know if you do headcannons for your comics, so sorry if you're not comfortable with it!!!)

Headcanon for the Castaway Octonauts AU:

The junior octo agents (at least try) to bring back the octonauts and find Barnacles at some point.

For example, it just fits Koshi to be determined to keep "The Case of the Beached Barnacles" in her free time,

As well as for Ursa and Orsom to be too determined to not give up on their uncle who survived the catastrophe of their first 'Polar Bear Track' (I forgot what its called-) with them.

As Periwinkle got older, he could see how much his uncle was hurt by everything, and despite not knowing much about the team, could still see how much

Even Pinto who loved and respected the Octonauts team would be in disbeleif that they would give up (Even if they did try their best and kept the search up for all those months.) And would try to pry the details out of a reluctant Peso.

Maybe they'd pull a "Parent Trap, and try to bring the octonauts/octo agents in the same place to try to sort things out, or one or more to leave by themselves to try and find him.

(Whether or not it actually works can create some major fluff or angst)

IDK tho, I feel like the meme with the guy and the conspiracy board-

The Case of the Beached Barnacles- omg I am deceased. That’s brilliant!

Honestly I had a similar thought of how the Junior OctoAgents responded to the team splitting up.

Maybe I can have them like speaking in secret 🤫 with one another to have each other keep tabs on the crew.

Koshi would definitely have a whole notebook about the details of the day the captain disappeared. Dashi would’ve of probably vented to her sister after some convincing.

Periwinkle definitely would feel awful for his uncle Shellington. I feel like he’d ask about why they split up and Shellington would explain how things just got too hard for them. And Peri would absolutely work with the other agents to try and continue the search, even if the team is too distraught.

I do have a bit of how Orson and Ursa (the captain’s niece and nephew) as well as their mother Bianca reacted to hearing that Barnacles disappeared. The cubs were devastated to hear about it but refuse to believe that he could just vanish like that. With them being polar scouts, they’d have contact with Tracker so they would be able to get information on the rest of the team and the agents. Bianca was also devastated by her brother’s disappearance, thought she held strong for her cubs. Though she wasn’t certain if Barnacles was alive or not, she knew Barnacles wouldn’t want her to give up (especially since she’s a mom with two young cubs).

Note: I also have more on Natquik Peso and Tracker. With those three being close with Barnacle’s family through their relationships with the captain, I imagine they keep tabs on Bianca and the cubs. Tracker would keep giving any updates he can get. Natquik, with some help from Peso, always send care packages and gifts to Bianca and the cubs as a way to keep an eye on them for Barnacles.

Now Pinto, OOOOOH Pinto wouldn’t take the news lying down. I’m sure at some point Peso explained what happened (although maybe not in a lot of detail) and tries to get Pinto to understand the situation. However, knowing Pinto, he’d be just like Kwazii and refuse to give up. So while he investigates in his own way, he also would encourage Peso to not give up as well and to reach out as often as he can to the others.

Other OctoAgents do play a role in continuing the search in little ways. Paani and Min especially. Whether it be encouraging the Octonauts to reconcile and get back together, or trying to support them in their time grief and anguish.

Overall your headcanon was amazing to think about.

[crazylittlejester]

hi! Heard this was the place for Warriors headcanons :) I really like your blog and fics, btw! How are you?

I had a really random thought last night that I can’t stop thinking about and need to share somewhere

warriors is the only one in the chain to have had lice before .

hear me out right now.

time’s never had lice but he’s seen Malon have lice once or twice so he knew to tie his hair up in his long haired era.

twilights had fleas before because he spent too much time hugging goats.

wilds Hyrule doesn’t really have enough people for him to get lice since he doesn’t interact with people a lot, though he does have minish playing with his hair without him noticing.

with Hyrule it’s the same thing as wild. Not enough people.

wind has enough brain cells to comb his hair, he lives with a very competent grandma after all. And he’s mostly on the sea sailing around anyways, he has his hat too.

there are no lice on skyloft, so sky has never had them before either. I like to think the people of skyloft didn’t have to deal with nasty bugs too often on skyloft.

legend was just lucky he never got them with all the people he’s interacted with and met. And he never shared his hat because it’s his. And he a hoarder. Not even Ravio or Zelda are allowed to touch his hat.

four would have lice if he got out more I stead of copping himself up when he’s not adventuring, smithing, reading, or hanging out with Zelda.

Warriors lived in the city, hence he got lice alot as a kid. At least like six times. Despite him being adamant about hair care it’s not just so it can look good. He’s paranoid about getting lice again because that’s never a fun experience. He combs his hair alot for it. Paranoia is helpful in this case.

anyway, this is what sleep deprived me thought of while studying for a test!

have a great day (hopefully this wasn’t too long)!

<3

Oh my god hi hello! I’m so glad you’ve enjoyed my blog and my fics, that makes me happy to hear :) This is always the place for Warriors headcanons, I love sharing mine and reading other people’s! Don’t worry, no ask is too long to me, I love getting em :)

All I can think about is poor little Wars overreacting and shaving his head and then becoming DEVASTATED by the time the lice are no longer an issue and now he has to wait for his hair to grow out, and I mean INCONSOLABLE.

I headcanon Wars is from the country initially, like a little small farm town, but he would be the unfortunate one to suffer multiple times from those buggers wouldn’t he, poor guy

Also poor Twilight getting fleas from hugging goats is so sad and so funny, he just loves his goats so much

There are probably a lot of things Sky didn’t have to deal with that he’s a bit horrified of to learn exist on the surface, I like to think house spiders is part of this list

Thank you for sharing, I hope you have a great day as well! :)

[deanwinchesterswitch]

Dreams of Happiness

Summary: You’re doing well in your new life—many would say you’re ‘living the dream’. The only problem is, it’s not the life you dreamed of living.

Pairing: Dean x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ Angst; Some fluff; Language; Mentions of smut; Canon divergence.

Betas: @princessmisery666 and @wayward-and-worn

Word Count: 2,747

Part One

It’s been a long time since you’ve attended one of the monthly gatherings. The possibility of seeing Dean makes your chest clench with pain, punching the air from your lungs. Yet, you miss your found family, and avoiding them to avoid him, serves no purpose. Besides, you're in a better place emotionally now. At least that’s what you keep telling everyone, anyway.

Eyes scanning the room as you pull out of Jody’s hug, your heart stalls at her next words, unsure if it’s from gratified relief or abject longing.

“They’re not coming,” Jody informs you, handing over the glass of whiskey in her hand. “Caught a case at the last minute.”

“Oh, sure,” you shrug, “I could have handled it if he was here.” The cock of her eyebrow lets you know that she can see right through the facade. Jody is the big sister you always wished you had. There’s no hiding from that all-knowing scrutiny. “Yeah, okay. Whatever.”

“You doing alright?” she prods.

“I’m great. Things are going good.” You are not great. Things are not good. The reality is so far from either of those that you’re unsure where you’d begin to explain. “How’s everyone?”

“We’re good. The girls are excited about seeing you.”

“Of course they are. I’m the cool aunt.”

“You’re the only aunt,” she deadpans.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m still cool.”

As if on cue, Alex and Claire burst into the room, shoving each other and shouting your name, vying for your attention. Taking a large gulp of whiskey, you hand the glass back to Jody just as two sets of arms squeeze you tight in their hold.

A couple of hours later, the bathroom mirror reflects a genuine smile, contentment from being around the ones you love. Exiting the bathroom, you’re stopped in your tracks outside Alex’s room, overhearing your name.

“She looks happy,” Claire states.

“I don’t know. There’s a sadness in her eyes that wasn’t there before.” Alex always seemed to understand you. Relate to you a little better. When you showed up on Jody’s doorstep, physically and mentally exhausted, emotionally devastated, she had been the one to help paste the pieces back together enough for you to function again in the world outside their home.

“Well, I think they’re both a couple of dumbasses. Everyone can see that they belong together. Did you see his reaction last time when Jody told him she wasn’t coming? And she is obviously disappointed that he isn’t here today.” 

Claire’s no slouch at observing people either, and you reluctantly smile at her forthright assessment. You’re curious about his reaction, and though you know you’re wrong for eavesdropping, you silently lean a little closer to the open doorway, hoping to hear more about him.

“Yeah, but they both seem to be moving on. The art business is working out great for her, and he’s still out there putting himself in harm’s way to save the world.”

Does he know about your new business venture? Maybe he believes that you are happier without him. Agitation begins to coil in your chest at Alex’s response, but Claire’s next words cut a broad stroke through your heart.

“She still loves him, though, don’t you think?”

Of course, I do! I can’t just throw a switch and stop.

“I think so. Her poker face is almost as good as his, so it’s hard to tell for sure. I wish she’d talk to us about it.” 

There’s no way I can talk about him. It’s too difficult to explain. It still hurts too much. 

“I bet he still loves her even though he’s being an idiot.”

“I know, but,” Alex’s disgruntled huff reaches your ears, “Sam said he’s back to picking up waitr-”

You need air—an escape. 

Stumbling down the stairs and sprinting toward the front door, you hastily call to the group in the living room that you’re going out for a while. Not waiting for a response, you rush to your car, tires squealing as you pull away from the curb, bound for the lake a few miles from Jody’s. Windows down, wind whipping at your hair, the sequenced pitch of rubber racing over asphalt begins to soothe your troubled mind. Backing up to the edge of the rocky beach, you breathe a shaky sigh of relief, solace seeping through you with the familiarity of your surroundings, your sanctuary.

A swath of emotions threatens to bleed through your pores, but you hold them back until you're lying in the bed of the truck. Staring up at the inky darkness, tears coat and gloss your eyes, turning the view into an image reminiscent of Van Gogh’s Starry Night.

As the months dragged on, you got better at keeping the guilt and desolation hidden, putting on a show for others. A bright smile painted on your face, posing an apathetic demeanor whenever he’s mentioned. Yet, there are still times when you least expect it, caught off guard like tonight, that the hard outline is feathered by grief.

You’d heard tidbits of information about him when running into old acquaintances—laughing, joking, playing pool, the occasional story about him leaving with a beautiful woman draped around him. What you knew, though, that most of them didn’t, was that beneath the cheeky swagger he showed to the world was a compassionate, kind heart steeped in a complex, volatile cocktail of emotions. The person the world saw was only a guise shielding the man you knew and loved.

So you had taken their words with a grain of salt. You’d smile and nod, steer them back to talking about whatever case they were working. They’d eventually ask you to help. If you could, you’d assist with the lore but decline further involvement, telling them, ‘I’m not a hunter.’ As time passed, it became easier to say, but the sting continued to echo.

Hearing about his extracurricular activities with Sam as the source cut deep. It had to be true, then. Didn’t it? Sam was ground zero. Dean had moved on… let you go. Did he even love you anymore?

Colors blend and evanesce, fingers brushing cold metal as you absentmindedly reach for the warmth and security of a hand no longer there. A lost comfort, an intangible ache that lingers on your skin. Fuck, you miss him. You’ve made some pretty questionable decisions over the years, but leaving him ranks the highest. If there were a way to take it all back, you would. Tell him that you were wrong to leave, that you meant all the promises contained in the last words you said to him. You figure he knows on some level. It doesn’t make your choice any easier to accept.

You left him to deal with the never-ending cycle of douchebag demons, dickhead angels, and whatever new monster of the week emerged. Left him alone with the burden of saving the world on top of all the emotional trauma he constantly tries to shove down and hide away.

Hands curling into fists, heated tears whitewash a salty trail to your hairline unabated. There’s no reason to repair the peeling varnish of the facade you painted with no one around to assess the damage. So you let the heartache fade and blur into memories.

“A fireplace.” Rough-skinned fingers traced a path down your spine, palm coming to rest on your hip.

“It takes up half the wall,” a quick nip at his ear, “with a big fluffy rug and lots of pillows. Glass panels on either side to watch the snowfall.”

He laughed, “You’ve been watching too many of those sappy movies again. Not everything is a Hallmark moment.”

“When I’m with you, it feels like it.”

A random conversation that had become a ritual after bad hunts. Sometimes after good ones too, when you were both feeling overly optimistic about the future. The two of you, naked and cuddled close, on a blanket staring up at the stars, in Baby’s backseat, or safe in your bed at the bunker, whispering sweet, healing words and envisioning the home he would build for the two of you post-hunting life. It was a way to escape the horrors of the current day-to-day. Light in the darkness; hope where sometimes it seemingly never existed.

“A chef’s kitchen. Open concept, restaurant grade appliances, butcher’s block, and a marble countertop for rolling out pie dough.”

The sweet scrape of scruff against your flesh and heated breath, “An island I can bend you over and rail you from behind.”

“Wow, what a sweet talker.” You’d kissed him until there were no breaths left to share. Then he’d taken you on the backseat, tender and loving, like you had all the time in the world, replacing whispered words with cries of passion.

Rufus’ old safe house in Montana would be the perfect fixer-upper. By the time you remembered it, it was too late, and you never got the chance to mention it to him. Sam had kept the three of you on a string of hunts until one of them became the final straw for Dean. It had been a bit of a rough one. The witch had nearly succeeded in making you her next sacrifice, but you’d managed to outmaneuver and kill her just as the boys burst into the room. Dean had not been happy. 

Between fuming bouts of silence, you’d argued, for hours, the entire ten-hour drive back to the bunker. Sam was so fed up that Baby was barely parked before he was out, grabbing a set of keys to one of the old cars and driving off without a word to either of you. By the time the two of you reached the bedroom, the fight had come to a head, and the spiteful words cut deep.

“Let’s sleep on it, and we can talk tomorrow.”

“I want you to leave.”

“Fine. I’ll sleep in my old room tonight.”

“No. I want you to pack your things and get out of the bunker. I’m tired of having to rescue you. I’ve got enough on my plate without having to try and keep you from getting yourself killed all the time.”

Anger had instantly flared, “You’re being an asshole! How-,” but as you’d fired back, you caught the flash of torment in his gaze and realized what he was trying to do. Quickly switching tactics, you’d attempted to reason with him. The harsh words thrown back at you had felt like a salt round to the chest at close range.

“...You’re not a hunter. You’re a liability.” 

Dean’s anger was a sight to behold but had never before been directed at you with such force. He’d drawn himself up—arms crossed, stance widened, face an unyielding mask, eyes dark, glare chilling, breath nearly undetectable. For a moment, you wondered if you reached out and touched him, would his skin feel like marble, and an imagined draft of air had prickled your skin.

You’d known he wouldn’t back down once he’d voiced his ultimatum. Struggling under the burden of keeping those he loved alive and out of harm's way, Dean was doing what he did best by trying his damnedest to push you away, believing you would be safer. So you’d let go of the charged words you’d been ready to hurl back and stared him down, uttering the only words that truly mattered.

“I love you.”

The clench of his jaw—rolling muscle beneath stubbled flesh—the singular movement betrayed his vulnerability. You’d thought your words might be enough, but it only made him double down on his determination. He fired one last shot, then walked away. 

You’d heard him pause in the hallway, hoped his resolve would break, and whispered, “Please don’t leave.” As his strides had grown more distant, you’d stared at the space he left behind. 

Standing in the dimly lit room, you'd waited until your legs ached, finally collapsing into a sobbing heap on the bed to wait a bit longer. Exhausted from the hunt, the argument, and with utter despair draining every conscious thought, you’d eventually fallen into a fitful sleep. Waking with a gasp, you frantically searched the room, but there was no sign that he had returned. 

No missed calls or texts lit up your phone when you checked it. It felt like your heart was pumping sludge through your veins, then anger flared, flushing everything loose. How could he leave like that? Say those things to you and then walk out without a backward glance? It didn’t matter that you knew why he did it. The outrage over his callous words ignited a fire in your heart that seared its way through your emotional cortex. 

Debating whether it was best to wait and confront him when he finally returned or give each other some time, you finally shoved a few items of clothing in a bag, figuring you’d be back in a day or two once the dust settled. 

The first step across the bedroom’s threshold felt like stepping off a cliff, a point of no return. As you’d dragged yourself through the bunker, hope had kept you moving forward. Hope that he would be in the garage, sitting in the Impala. You wouldn’t have cared if the fight continued. You’d just wanted to see him there.

When you’d found Baby’s spot empty, muscle memory had been the only thing that kept you upright. Residual shock kept the emotions at bay until you hit the Nebraska state line. You’d found a liquor store and then a motel. Cried, drank, rehashed, dissected every detail that you should have done differently, drank some more, cried again, then drank until your tears were laced with alcohol. 

You knew Dean was afraid of losing someone else he loved, and he did love you. It had been there behind the cold stare and harsh words. He wouldn’t have believed you had forgiven him before he even walked out of the room, but you had. 

Your bout of anger did not negate that forgiveness, knowing that the extreme harshness of his words was proportionate to the feelings he held for you. You hadn’t chased after him for the same reason you had stopped arguing. As much as it hurt, anger and betrayal bleeding through every pore, you’d known there was no point. In that moment, Dean had decided on a course of action and would remain firm. He believed what he was doing would somehow protect you from a hunter’s end, deflect the chaos and darkness of this life, save you… from him.

On the fifth day of radio silence, having eaten nothing but a couple of packages of stale vending machine fare, you’d finally taken a shower, dragged ass to the nearest food source, drank an entire pot of coffee, and downed a huge helping of the greasiest food you could order. After puking up everything you had consumed, you’d ordered a coffee and two bottles of water to go.

You’d believed that regret, guilt… love would somehow, for once, win out over his innate stubbornness, and he would eventually call to apologize. You had been wrong. 

You’d lost count of how many times you’d stopped yourself from calling or texting. You’d rationalized that he needed more time, that if you tried to contact him too soon, you would only make things worse. Deciding it was best to give him space to work through the wealth of emotions you knew he’d be wrestling with, no matter how painful it was for you. So you hauled yourself north, away from the only true home you’d known in years… away from the tormented despair… away from him.

Now you have to face the consequences of your decision. He’s moving on, adjusting to a life without you, and, according to rumors confirmed by a reputable source, finding solace in the arms of another. In an attempt to save your sanity or a matter of self-preservation, you hadn’t let yourself think about him with someone else. 

It hurts like hell, but the blame lies with you as much, if not more so, than him. You told him you loved him but then abandoned him like so many others. You were just as much at fault for letting the months drag on with no contact, no attempt at reconciliation. Caught up in a new life that you only ever wanted to share with him, you realize you had waited too long. 

Too afraid, too ashamed to contact him.

Part Three