#once again asking how those -net tags work

[doonalli]

Hinako; Humanity in Affection and Connection (Hinako Character Analysis)

Hinako was probably the character analysis I wanted to write the most after Anzu, She is such an amazing character to me, but i just don't see any discussion on her at all, most of the time all I see is people just claiming she is only a plot device and not much of a character, or otherwise underutilised, which to me couldn’t be further from the truth. So I want to write an analysis on who Hinako is, and how she plays a part in YTTD.

To me all the dummies represent different aspects of humanity, Anzu represents it through her fear of death, Hayasaka represents it through his contradictory emotions, Kurumada represents it through his connection to others, Ranmaru represents it through his doubts, Mai represents it through her own autonomy, and I would argue that Hinako represents the physical aspect of humanity.

But over the course of the previous 5 analyses on the 5 other dummies one point that comes up again and again is that humanity isn't about the physical truth and it never was, and Hinako is no exception. Being an agent of Asu-naro her mindset is informed by theirs, you can see this is the way she talks about being used and the emphasis she places on "value" in general. Almost more like a tool than a person

And it's clear through her actions and reactions too, for example when Q-taro was stabbed and all the dummies went out of their way to help even though there was no benefit in this for them and Hinako just didn't get why, or a little beforehand when Ranmaru takes the tag from Sara (during the logic route). 

Hinako in those moments doesn't get why they would do these things for no real reason, when these actions don’t bring any value to them. 

Even from first meeting Hinako talks about information she can't share on account of using it as a safety net for herself: 

Right from our first meeting we can see glimpses into her ideology and it's easy to see where this mindset could have come from.

And later when finding about the secret information everyone has she claims that it gave them all new unique value, which no matter the choice, Sara denies as they have value anyways.

It's clear Hinako's mindset comes from Asu-naro, Kai, who's the character most similar to Hinako in this regard also shows this mentality off in how he pleads for his life with his “vital information for escape” during the first Main Game,

However, unlike Hinako, he was actually lucky enough to be able to escape the Asu-naro bubble. And we see the effects of that in his note to Sara on his laptop. 

The only chance Hinako gets is during the sub-game on the 4th and 5th floors, the Murderer Game, where she is placed along with the Dummies after she taking the place of the real Hinako. And while at first she seems to play into Asu-naro’s mindset, over the course of the chapter these beliefs are broken down for her, starting with Q-taro’s words after he got stabbed.

When Q-taro asks the dummies to work with them, Hinako is the most reluctant at first, asking him if he heard the rules, reiterating that one or the other has to die before she is cut off by Q-taro asking her an important question.

Hinako is shaken by this response, and as all the dummies start to help Q-taro 1 by 1 she is left behind with her protests. This acts as the first step to Hinako’s eventual willingness to connect however as of yet she isn’t convinced and that's shown during Keiji’s fight with Midori and its aftermath. 

During the fight she is the most actively detrimental to the humans, stopping Keiji from shooting the gun and grabbing Gin’s shovel to stop him from attacking midori, stating that:

And after Keiji is pushed into the coffin Hinako stubbornly states “Hmph… It's not our fault…” and after Ranmaru rips up the consent form that would have saved him Hinako reminds everyone that the dummies would have died if Keiji won and he still decided to fight despite that fact.

However once Ranmaru actually makes his intentions to save Keiji themselves clear Hinako immediately refutes it, asking:

And sticks to her sentiment by stating:

This mindset of hers is reinforced when the cast tries to move to the security office where Hinako tells them:

She physically can’t help Keiji even if she wanted to due to the red string of fate and she likens this to being a slave robbed of her freedom, something all too similar to what Asunaro’s mindset has been shown to us to be before.

However this mindset is proven wrong to Hinako once the collar pairings are turned off and she is freed from them. Still in disbelief, Mai then asks her to make up with everyone which she tries to fight back against by asking:

She is shut down once Anzu Hayasaka or Mai ask if she could really kill them. Anzu and Hayasaka specifically callsout their kindness while Mai fights back against it by claiming she’ll stop them herself.

Hinako still struggling to connect claims that:

Before finally breaking down and helping the cast by telling them about Midori’s ID card, giving up that “one or the other has to die” mentality from before and now starting to actually help find a new option. She agrees when Ranmaru asks her to come along and it is from this point forth Hinako starts to truly connect with the rest of the group.

And this is in a way shown off during the Maple fight where she can try to strike up a conversation with her:

Once Maple starts chasing after the group Kurumada gets injured, Hinako tells everyone to run to the 5th floor, and when Qtaro struggles to keep up she actually shows concern saying:

Rather than the refusal to care she showed before as the dummies all went to help Qtaro and when he just got stabbed on the monitor she shows him concern.

Then, when Gin tries to run back she reminds him that he will die, him and Qtaro both, and if Sara hesitates to close the elevator doors she will force them closed herself.

While Hinako isn’t outright showing affection in the same way others would, (likely as a result of how Asu-naro raises their agents without it according to Kai’s letter,) she still is concerned for others and that's an important difference to the Hinako from earlier who rarely did so.

This also shows again with her interactions with Kurumada. In the Logic Route, Hinako stays outside of the locker room during the puzzle alongside Kurumada, similar to how she stayed outside the lava puzzle in the boxing room earlier in the chapter. 

This could imply that she purposely protected Kurumada from entering, as her staying out isn’t mentioned in the emotion route, where Kurumada is staying behind with Kanna.

And when Kurumada attempts to deny the charger, if Anzu and Hayasaka died earlier in the chapter the action of telling Kurumada to use it on himself goes to Hinako:

Here Hinako is telling Kurumada to live, notably however, the way she goes about it is different to Anzu or Hayasaka who argue that they’re “allies”, instead Hinako argues from a more logical angle, telling him to just give it up and finally asking him a simple “...Why not live?”. It's clear that she does care for Kurumada and wants him to live, even if it's expressed differently to the others.

Hinako makes fun of him as he berates the dummies for not thinking things through by asking “Should the guy who got himself injured like this be saying that?”, a fun parallel to how Hinako protested against the dummies helping Q-taro by calling them idiots where Kurumada made fun of her instead.

Originally Hinako refuted when the dummies were helping Q-taro and now Kurumada attempts to refuse help from the dummies himself.

Kurumada then goes on to tell Sara his secret info, in his eyes removing the last of his value, a mindset Hinako herself operated under earlier when first finding out about the secret info, but Sara proves her words from back then with how she makes a promise with Kurumada to protect everyone, dummies included.

The next scene I want to talk about is a very important one, not only is it a major example of Hinako truly opening up and connecting with her allies, but it's also the first example of Midori taking that away from her, in a small way at least.

When Ranmaru stands over Kurumada thinking about possibly tagging him Hinako walks in stating

She reveals a collar reset device, specifically with the intention of protecting her allies.

It's also interesting that the device she reveals is specifically one that needs cooperation, just another note to add to Hinako’s newfound willingness to connect.

However after Hinako turns on the device and is about to explain how it works Midori walks in to take that from her and explain it instead, even using her (and Kanna/Sou) as an example for the shocking system, almost like a tool…

It's just a small example but nonetheless it is an example of Midori dehumanising Hinako in a way, by taking away her spotlight from helping the others for himself and using her. And this will eventually lead to a much bigger example later…

On a totally and completely unrelated note, once the cast gets back down to the 4th floor and are searching for answers as to where Keiji could be they find Mai alone instead, after giving her the ID card they all decide to follow her into a new room. Here Hinako takes the chance to use the hot drinks machine to carry a bunch of hot cocoa, and soon after asks if she can go to search the cemetery, when told it would be dangerous to go alone she decides to take Ranmaru along with her, further showing her affection for Ranmaru in some form.

Later we find out her goal here was to actually spill the hot cocoa on her coffin to protect herself during the banquet,

While it's unclear how much she knew about the banquet, she still seems to have done it for that purpose, not knowing she would later swap with Midori.

But its still important to add how she also spilt cocoa on Ranmaru’s coffin. At first it’s thought to be done as a distraction but if Hinako knew that unglowing her coffin with cocoa would save her then she would have had to know what spilling cocoa onto Ranmaru’s coffin would do too.

Ranmaru then leaves to “check up on Kurumada”, leaving Hinako alone, and an announcement from “Keiji” is heard, leading Sara to go into the classroom alone and get stunned.

Once Sara regains consciousness in the Kanna lives route Hinako will return without Ranmaru, and once the topic changes to Kurumada’s whereabouts Hinako makes a joke about Kurumada possibly being dead, however her expression quickly changes to a worried one once she realises no one actually checked, showing her concern for him yet again.

This joke is also similar to the types of dark jokes Kai, the other Asu-naro member of the cast, would make, furthering that connection.

The Logic route however has a much less… lighthearted scene… Instead Ranmaru ends up killing the remaining Yabusame and Hinako reacts to this with a hatred for Ranmaru, one only beaten by Kurumada’s. She calls him out for wanting to save himself and Ranmaru berates her, asking when she decided to switch sides, to which she can’t respond.

This bitterness continues to the pre-banquet where Hinako asks Sara if it's alright to leave Ranmaru free, something awfully similar to how she talked earlier in the chapter about being not being free, she goes on to state her want for revenge against him before playing it off as a joke. Finally she remarks that they could just leave Ranmaru powerless once the banquet is over, asking Sara if she really is going to forgive him for killing Yabusame and ending with the notion that there isn’t any point taking it out on her with a dour expression.

If Ranmaru died she is less vengeful on account of there being no one to take revenge against, instead she remarks that if it weren’t for Ranmaru’s “stupid betrayal” she could have been a bit happier with everyone alive, then she tells Sara is a shame about Yabusame, before telling her to keep her head up with the banquet ahead.

It's important that she yet again shows her newfound concerns for others, even admitting that she would be happier if more people were alive, but it's also important that it was Ranmaru who betrayed everyone as Hinako was shown to be close to Ranmaru when she saved him and she explored with him, so to have him do this and sort of act like a tool for Sara goes against everything she’s learnt.

In the Emotion Route though Hinako is much happier, even admitting as much when Sara asks, remarking how amazing it is they were all able to make it in one piece if all the dolls survived then playing it off as “better than being torn to pieces”, she then makes Sara swear to bring the dummies back after the banquet.

If all the dummies survived Kurumada will request for a song, Hinako listening in will confess that it's pretty nice even at a time like this. The song itself is named “Tunagu” literally meaning “to connect”, and its here is the truest form of connection between everyone in the cast and with Hinako. In this moment, Hinako can truly say she is human… but it doesn’t last long.

When entering the coffins for the banquet she is always first or second to enter, likely as she believes she will be safe due to her coffin no longer glowing after being hot cocoa’ed, but as the coffins are buried under the ground Midori calls for Hinako, and while it’s unknown the exact circumstances they end up swapping coffins, and this choice ends up dooming Hinako, as she is later betrayed by Midori and killed, seemingly unexpectedly.

This action ends up dehumanising Hinako, relegating her to just a tool for Midori, despite all the growth she displayed, it's all taken away from her at this moment. She dies, not even having her own choice in the matter, unlike the others (excluding Anzu) and in turn she dies, still under Asunaro's grasp. Midori being in a non glowing coffin also puts Ranmaru back in danger, when he should have been safe, taking even that part away from Hinako.

Hinako’s relationship with Midori also works as a dark parallel to Sou and Kanna’s, Kanna’s claims of not being useful matching Hinako using her usefulness as a safety net, the care Sou inevitably has for Kanna versus the lack of care Midori has as he kills off his allies. It's what Sou and Kanna would’ve been without the affection they had for each other.

The effects of that are seen throughout the rest of the Banquet, Hinako ends up being presented as possibly an enemy when Q-taro claims everyone who's died so far has been an ally, however, Hinako’s last words end up exposing Midori and give the participants another fighting chance.

Despite Hinako physically being a human she isn’t treated as such because that's not what humanity is about, and that's the tragedy of Hinako, but even so, for those few moments where she truly connected with the dummies and the survivors she was really “alive”, and she was able to, in some small ways, truly be free from Asunaro.

And in a way it was all because of the connection the real Hinako Mishuku and Alice shared, which gave our Hinako the chance to connect with others too, and with that, just like Kai did before her, she finally learnt one aspect of what it meant to be a human, to connect with others and to show affection and have that same affection given back to you.

================================================

Hinako undergoes a drastic change from the Hinako we saw at the start of the chapter, but recounting what she has done over the course of the chapter you can see the natural progression she takes to get here. It can be easy to disregard this aspect of her when we find out about her connection to Asunaro after she died, but I think that's a disservice to Hinako, and I think she is so much more than the banquet twists.

There is plenty to Hinako, from her growth as a person and her learning to connect, to showing the effects Midori and Asunaro have over her, to simply showing off another aspect to what makes a human, and it's why I think Hinako is genuinely such a great character that i can’t wait to see more of. Not to “fix” her or give her something but to expand on what's already there, because she is a character like any other.

I don’t think Hinako’s character is over yet of course, i’m certain there will be more from her in 3-2 and in her Minisode but I do think that Hinako is already a full character, albeit a tragic one, I don’t think she was misused or killed off to early. Hinako’s character exists for reasons and those reasons were genuinely fulfilled, she shows the effect Asunaro and their mindset have on their agents, and just how trapped they are, in a way no other character really could, and she adds yet another layer to the themes of 3-1 and humanity as a whole.

I think calling Hinako a waste of a character or to simply write her off as a plot device is unfair to who Hinako is and her purpose in the story, I think that there is a lot to here already in game that people don’t see because they insist Hinako exists solely for the twists during the Banquet and thats sad :( So hopefully at least this post will get you to appreciate Hinako a bit more and see her as more than just a tool, in universe and out of it too.

Short part 2 type thing -> Here!!!!

but this has gone on long enough, I hope you enjoyed and thanks for reading!!

[robthegoodfellow]

Make Me Feel Mighty Real 1/?

follow up to praise kink soft dom Steve uber sub Billy fic (also on Ao3) from last year's Kinktober event. the boys play around with total power exchange. tagging @gigacat and @makeadealwithdean because i remember you liking the original 💛

no porn yet. pre-porn.

Billy didn’t want him to ask how his last exams went. Didn’t want him to mention his classes at all—a complete erasure of the last few weeks of compulsive flash cards and study guides and late nights at the library. He’d been mumbling psych terminology in his sleep, tossing and turning, and gnawed on so many pencils his desk seemed occupied by a tiny beaver.

Over the past however long since Billy had become his… well, his—his good boy, his baby, his first thought on waking, his to have and to hold in a sense felt more deeply than tying the knot, in a sense that transcended all he’d ever known of how two people could be together and frankly still knocked him breathless when he thought about it too much—anyway, since all that began, Steve had come to view his life as though through this peculiar prism.

Certain facets were as they’d been before, like now: soldiering through the numbers at work, making nice with surrounding cubicles, acting the part of the straight-laced office drone, diligent and dull as dirt. He’d been voted Best Hair at the office Christmas party not just because his hair was objectively magnificent but also because that was all anyone knew about him. By design.

He did his work, got paid, and the moment he left the building, Office Steve shut off. Some people centered their lives around a vocation, and some joined the rat race, scrambling to pull even, pull ahead. Then there were people like his dad, where career success determined your entire worth—your net worth all that mattered.

Steve was none of those things. Swore to himself he never would be.

So Office Steve had already been separate from the rest, from the facets of himself he valued most: the person he was with friends, with family, with girlfriends. The person he was just hanging out at home.

And he’d been content with those facets for so long… until Billy. Until something about Billy turned the prism and a flash of light unveiled a side of himself he’d never known was there, alongside the others, patiently waiting for that beam of recognition at exactly the right angle.

Billy dropping to his knees, face angled up, lashes low, eyes locked where Steve’s cock strained the denim.

Standing there, towering like he’d never towered before—looming, imposing, imperative—Steve had never felt so firmly seated inside himself. In command.

It was hard to explain. He’d been puzzling it through for months, but all he knew was that, these days, with every step he took up the stairwell to their apartment, something in him shifted, bestowed this clarity of need and means, so by the time he reached their door, crossed the threshold, he practically thrummed with it.

That day, knowing what he might find upon entering, the thrum heightened to a subdermal buzz, so intense he had to pause on the Welcome mat, breathe deep and slow. In control.

Billy was inside, would have finished his last exam an hour ago. And last night, as they drifted to sleep, he’d mumbled what he wanted, what Steve had been probing him for—what he wanted to do, how he wanted to celebrate, once exams were over.

Could we do… you in charge?

Like that evening in late summer, he meant, when they’d toyed with total obedience, Steve at the reins of every decision, free to follow any whim—unless Billy signaled yellow, they’d decided. Yellow to slow down. Red to stop.

Me in charge tomorrow night? Steve asked, his blood already rushing at the thought, the memory.

Maybe. Billy had turned, nuzzled into Steve’s side, more snuggly under his arm. And maybe… try for longer? At Steve’s enquiring hum, a teasing lilt, he’d huffed, finally said it straight out: You in charge all day.

Steve hummed again, low rumble in the chest, and trailed fingers up Billy’s spine to hook in his necklace, twine the chain until it hugged his bobbing throat.

Saturday? Steve asked.

Depended on where his head was at, Billy said. If he was up for it, they could start early. Start Friday. And see how it went.

Baby’ll be honest?

Billy nodded—more accurately, rubbed his cheek at Steve’s ribs.

Baby’ll be where he wants? When I get home?

On his knees, if he wanted to start.

Billy nodded.

On the welcome mat, Steve exhaled once more. Unlocked the door.

Billy didn’t move from where he knelt on the floor, facing the couch, his shoulders at ease, hands on his thighs. He was in the same clothes from that morning—jeans and sweater. One of Steve’s.

The TV was on, volume low, a blurred murmur beyond the pulse pounding in his ears.

Steve closed the door behind him. Locked it.

“Look at me,” he said, and Billy did, turning his head, gaze skirting the floor to find Steve’s shoes. Watched as Steve toed off the shoes, as he approached, silent socks on the soft blue carpet.

Steve sank fingers into messy curls, angled the head to see Billy’s face. Thumb brushed beneath his eye, and though the lashes rose, the baby blues were soft and spacey.

“Color.”

Not a question. Billy blinked, slow to process. Steve stroked his hair.

“Green.” He said it quiet, on a breath.

Even unfocused, his boy had this ravenous quality, like his eyes, his ears, his every sense were sponges primed to soak it up, suck in Steve’s smile, the pleased curve, and Steve’s words, just as pleased, and soft.

“Good boy.”

Next

[sleepyfan-blog]

Float

Author’s Note: This is the second part of mer-Nadesir’s fic! Previous. Next

Tagged: @egrets-not-regrets @kit-williams @bleedingichorhearts @the-pure-angel 

Warnings: none

Summary: You meet up with The Night Lord you freed a little while ago.

You felt drawn back to the beach, since your encounter with the injured Night Lord. You'd done research on him after your initial encounter, and were quite surprised to read that Night Lords - at least according to the internet - were apparently viewed with deep and terrified suspicion from their allegedly violent and cruel nature. You wondered how accurate those accounts were - or if the people telling them had been taunting the mers in some way.

The Night Lord you'd encountered had been initially wary, but he'd been trapped and injured. He'd been flirty and grateful once you'd helped him get free, so not all of them were the nightmarish terrors of the deep that hysterical internet posts had ranted and raved about. Perhaps it was simply because the posters had approached the Night Lord in question incorrectly? Or maybe they'd been fucking around and found out that taunting the giant fish-man was a really bad idea, and went to whine about it online after managing to survive.

You'd not seen him again after that first encounter for over a month. Then again, from what you'd managed to gather, Night Lords seemed to prefer deeper waters and avoided most costal places unless they were having territorial disputes with different kinds of merfolk. No one could agree on how m any different kinds of merfolk there were, as they came in dozens of colors and patterns and species. You hoped that he was healing up well from the netting-wounds. 

The moon was full and hung high in the sky, and the stars shone beautifully. You'd debated for a while with yourself - as a medical professional, you could easily find work wherever it was you wanted to live, and the urge to stay in one of the small coastal towns along the coast was almost too much for you to handle. The ocean was fairly calm tonight, with the occasional rippling wave that washed up the beach. You quickly found that your feet led you to the water's edge, your sandals quickly getting wet as the warm waters lapped at your feet.

It would be really, really dumb to go swimming out in the ocean at night. You could so easily vanish beneath the waves, never to be seen or heard from again...

But still, as you looked out over the calm ocean waters, the desire to take off your clothes and go swimming out into the sea was nearly overwhelming. With how dark the night was and the brilliance of the stars, you wondered briefly if it would feel like you were swimming among the stars. 

As a child you'd wanted to know what it would be like to see those distant lights. To explore worlds beyond the Sol system. To explore the galaxy, but alas, the age of space exploration was not going to happen in your lifetime. Not for several generations at least.

You hardly notice where you are and what you're doing until a large, clawed hand lightly envelops one of your shoulders, a vaguely familiar voice calling out to you from behind and above you "It's not safe to go swimming at night, little mortal."

You blink and look up into the worried face of the handsome Night Lord you'd helped over a month ago. A small smile appears on your face as delight and relief flood through you. You reach up with one hand to touch his, lightly squeezing it "I... I know. But I really, really wanted to swim, for some reason. How are you? How have you been? Is it rude if I ask you what your name is?" You tell him your name, still beaming happily, genuinely delighted to see him again.

"I am doing well, and I have been teased by several of my older brothers for getting caught in one of the industrial nets, but I have also been learning how to better spot them and avoid them. I am Nadesir. We should head to the shore. Mortals like you do not swim very well, and there is an undertow in these waters that comes and goes unexpectedly." He responds, a small frown appearing on his face as he looks you over in concern.

"I... If you really think that's important. I'd rather stay out here for a little while, at least." You ask, pouting up at him a little, despite the fact that you know for a fact that he's right. You should go back up on the shore. But you really, really don't want to. A subtle itching that intensified and lowered at times that you'd managed to more or less ignore had finally, finally stopped. You were very unwilling to get back out of the water when that maddening itchiness had finally subsided. You were also admiring the way that the light of the moon highlighted his high cheekbones and made the endless inky pools that his eyes had turned into in the night were deep enough for you to happily drown in. 

"I... If you are sure. I will stay close by, in case something happens." Nadesir decides, still watching you with concern. He fidgets a little, pulling out a silvery-white bloom from one of his armor's pockets. "I... I found this a week ago and thought of you. Would... This is yours, if you want it."

An awed smile appeared on your face as you carefully took the flower and tucked it behind one of your ears, not really having a good place to put it, as you realized that you'd taken off your clothes in order to go swimming... Not that you found that you minded being naked in the warm waters. "Thank you, this is beautiful."

"Almost as much as you are..." He murmurs, something akin to reverence in his eyes as he looks down at you, awe and something softer in his eyes. 

"I... What? You... you're quite handsome, too." You respond, a warm blush appearing on your face as you lean into him, humming a little.

"Thank you." Nadesir rumbled, one arm gently wrapping around your waist as the two of you floated together in the ocean waters.

[indigosuvi]

maybe before

age in bio when interacting. minors do not interact.

Word Count: 534 | Read it on AO3 | masterlist

Summary: you and hanzo play volleyball.

It wasn't often that Hanzo took vacations. In fact, he couldn't remember a time when he did take a vacation. Well, except for the time his son was born. Oh, and his marriage. So maybe he has taken a few vacations here and there, but those were long ago. He hadn't taken one yet with you. He was worried about his clan and who would watch over them during his leave. He didn't want to lose them again. He didn't want to lose you, either. It was a tough choice to stay with his clan or to leave with you… He looked out from where he sat. Down below, his clan was training. He looked over in the general direction of where his son and wife lay. Then, he looked over in the direction of where his home was that he shared with you. He breathed out slowly and turned his attention back to his clan. It would be a few hours before he climbed down and went to find you. He opted to walk in. Instead of teleporting, he knew that he sometimes scared you, especially when you weren't expecting him to show up.

"Y/N, I've thought about it some more, and I'd like to take a vacation. I can leave Haruto in charge of the clan until our return."

You smiled as you continued kneading the dough. You often made home-cooked meals.

"When would you like to leave?"

"After I've spoken to Haruto, but whenever you are ready."

"Alright, let me make dinner. Then we can pack afterward."

"Thank you, I'll go speak to Haruto." He teleported away while you continued making the food.

The next day arrived, and you were both ready to head out. Hanzo followed after you but stopped to look at the clan behind him. He breathed in, nodded once, and turned to continue following you. It was only a few days, and they would be just fine during his leave. There wasn't any danger recently. There was no reason to attack the Shirai Ryu.

It was mid-day when you arrived at your hotel, you set your luggage down, and Hanzo began to unpack his.

"Do you want to go to the beach or explore first?" You asked as you started to unpack your things as well.

"We could go to the beach."

"Have you ever played volleyball?"

"No, I haven't."

You nodded, and both of you changed into more appropriate beach attire. Then, you headed out while you explained to him how to play.

"That seems kind of easy." He said as he walked to his side of the court. You let him serve first, and the ball went straight over your head.

You gave the ball back to him and backed up this time, expecting the ball to land where it did once before. Instead, the ball landed just on your side of the net. You tried to go after it, but it was too late.

"Sorry." He said as he rubbed the back of his neck and gave a weak smile.

"It's alright, it's just a game." You said as you smiled and handed him the ball.

Hanzo would wind up winning the game.

© SUVIDRACHE — do not copy, translate, modify, or plagiarize my work. reblogs are appreciated!

Tag List: @queendeeshorrorimagines, @sunmoongoddess, @phantomheiko, @imagineherbrightskies / Join my tag list here!

[didasgomas]

"A boat without port is free only until the storm breaks out"

Day 27 of October Practice

Prompt: Ignoring red flags

Warnings: None (ask to tag)

Part of "Eyes Blue", an au of "Fear Of The Deep" by @moonlightsmasquerade

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows through the houseboat's windows as Siren heard the back door unlocking. She set down the net she'd been mending and moved to help with the haul.

"Good day out there, Boss?" she called as he set everything on the floor.

"Oh, you know how it is," the Fisherman replied, "The sea gives what it wants to give."

Siren grabbed the nearest cooler, her idea, as he began placing his equipment on the table. The first cooler was lighter than expected, she could hear only a few fish sliding around inside. For someone who'd been out since dawn, it seemed like a disappointing haul.

"Not much today?" she asked, hauling the cooler to the sorting area.

"Quality over quantity, my dear. Quality over quantity." The Fisherman's eyes had that distant look they got sometimes, like he was seeing something beyond the walls. "Besides, I found some interesting things today. Always interesting things out there."

As they continued, Siren noticed the second cooler was heavier but made no sloshing sounds. When she lifted the lid, she only found three decent-sized kelps lying on top, but underneath was… something else. She pulled out what looked like a child's bracelet, still dripping with seawater.

"Boss, there's some jewelry mixed in with the kelp here," she said, holding up the small silver chain.

The Fisherman glanced over, his expression unreadable. "Ah, yes. Amazing what the ocean gives back, isn't it? People lose all kinds of things overboard all the time. I've been collecting them for years."

"Do you ever try to return them? Some of this stuff looks expensive."

"To who?" He let out a dry noise that could have been a chuckle if it had been louder. "Most of it's been down there for months, maybe years. Salt water doesn't exactly keep serial numbers, does it?"

Siren turned the bracelet over in her hands. It was small, clearly meant for a young boy, with tiny dolphin charms that still caught the light despite the tarnishing. Something about it felt wrong, old-looking but too clean for something that had supposedly been underwater for months.

"Where should I put this stuff?" she asked.

"There's a box in the storage compartment, third shelf down on the left. Just toss it in with the rest." The Fisherman was already busy sorting his fishing gear, hanging lines and organizing all the tackle. "Oh, and Siren? Best not to handle those things too much. Never know what kind of bacteria might be growing on them."

She didn't answer, just stared, and when he looked at her again, a loud laugh broke out of him as he saw her face of complete dislike. He knew she was studying marine biology, she'd told him before he hired her, and part of that biology meant learning what natural hazards can kill fish, which she had also explained at some point, so if anyone could name some of the most dangerous marine bacteria out there, that would Siren.

Despite not appreciating his joke about it, Siren still followed instructions and carried the bracelet to the storage area.

The box he'd mentioned was indeed there, and when she opened it, her breath caught, and not just because of the smell. It was full of personal items, even what looked like a child's toy boat. All of it looked far too well-preserved for ocean salvage.

"Boss?" she called back. "Some of this stuff looks really new. Are you sure it's been underwater long?"

"Time works differently down there," his voice came from across the houseboat. "Cold water preserves things. Amazing what it can do."

Siren stared at the collection for another moment, then quickly closed the box and pushed it back onto the shelf. She hadn't been into the water even once since she took up the mantle as Jeremy's guardian, so she couldn't confirm if the water really was cold enough to preserve so many things.

Her boss had known those waters for decades, and it wasn't like she was a forensic expert.

"The nets need to be checked for tears," her boss said as she returned to the main area. "That storm last week was rougher than I thought. Found some interesting damage patterns."

"Sure thing." She grabbed the nets and began examining them in the fading light.

The silence didn't last long as he glanced over at her again. "How's that boy you're looking after? Jeremy, isn't it?"

Siren looked up from the net she was mending. "He's doing okay. You know, typical teenager stuff. School, friends."

"Good, good. Nice kid, I imagine. Takes after his sister?" The Fisherman's tone was casual, but there was something intent in the way he asked. "Does he ever ask about her? Wonder where she went?"

"Sometimes," Siren said carefully. "I just tell him she needed space after everything that happened."

"Ah yes, terrible business that. The ocean can be so unpredictable." He paused in coiling a rope. "Jeremy ever outside much? Young men his age get curious fast around here."

"Not really. He's more into his video games and school projects."

"School projects?" His hands stilled completely. "What kind of projects?"

"Oh, you know, typical stuff. He's got something coming up about the state's history, actually."

"Legends." The word came out slowly, like he was tasting it. "I imagine that involves some folklore, no? Kids love that kind of thing, don't they?"

"Yeah, he mentioned wanting to interview some of the old-timers about stories they've heard."

Her boss just nodded. "There are legends, alright. But some legends are more true than others. Some are not always safe for curious young minds."

"What do you mean?"

"Just that some stories are better left as stories. The ocean has its own ways, its own… residents. Better to respect them from a distance." He resumed his work, but his movements seemed more deliberate now. "Perhaps tell Jeremy to focus on what's closer to shore. Safer that way."

"Sure…"

Something in his tone made her uncomfortable. She'd noticed he always seemed to know more about the local families than seemed normal for someone who kept to himself so much. But then again, it was a small town. Everyone knew everyone's business. Probably.

As they finished up, the Fisherman counted out her wages by twos, as usual. "Same time tomorrow, my dear. Weather's supposed to be good for fishing."

"Thanks, Boss. I'll be here."

[ksmutsociety]

Frequently Asked Questions

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[lderthnbmbs]

i’m just glad you’re around ☼

summary: a sleep-deprived and beyond exhausted brain isn't the best at remembering things, like the weekly movie night hoseok has with his roommate every thursday. [ wc: 2k ]

pairing: Jung Hoseok | J-Hope x Min Yoongi | Suga // SOPE MY BELOVED

tw: none!

a/n: happy reverse bday gift from me to you! feedback appreciated, can send here or comment on ao3 <33

song pairing: every time around - vansire

-- ❝ read it here on ao3! ❞

[buryustogether]

-> HEATSTROKES AND OTHER MEET CUTES

saul bright x f!reader (not v)

wc: 5.3k

summary: after suffering a severe heatstroke and the beatdown of your life, you stumble across a nomad camp in the badlands. their leader is willing to offer a helping hand.

warnings/tags: heatstrokes, getting mugged, guns, blood, swearing, vomiting, mentions of rape/noncon, undressing in front of a stranger, strangers to lovers, thigh riding, smut, use of good girl, running away

author’s note: come get y’all’s bullshit

You had heard the same phrase over and over again.

You’d heard it at bars from truckers who had driven through the deserts all day and all night to avoid stopping out in the open. Their eyes were stamped with purple half-moons, expressions slack with exhaustion and fatigue they barely fought off. Their clothes were dusty despite never once stepping out of their cabs, and they spoke as if they’d seen the rapture itself out in those barren wastelands.

You’d heard it from ex-nomads who had sought to give up their lives in the deserts, too scarred from what they’d seen and endured to carry on out in the open. Their hands were calloused and their lips dry, always carrying around bits and traces of their old life, no matter how far they ran or how hard they tried to scrub all the dust off.

You’d heard it from mercenaries who’d had the misfortune of working jobs out there in the flat, dry banks and plains. They shook their heads when asked about it, said that some things just needed to lay down and fuckin’ die. Their gazes danced with ravens and scavenger birds picking at something unseen in the brush, and their footsteps were a little lighter than they once had been, as if they were scared of leaving footprints in sand that wasn’t even there.

You had heard the same phrase over and over again.

“If you think Night City is bad, wait until you get out to the Badlands.”

You had always thought they were being dramatic. Silly. Ridiculous. It was all just a bunch of desert, nothing but rocky mountain ridges and a brutal, unforgiving sun that found a way through the clouds even if the heavens themselves refused to part.

You had been wrong. So very, horribly, awfully wrong.

Sand clinging to your pants, your hair, your shoes - everything - weighed you down as you slowly trudged your way through the nothingness of the Badlands back toward the city. The tops of the skyscrapers and the holo-ads just barely prodded at the horizon, teasing you in a mirage of sorts. Miles. Miles upon miles left until you reached salvation, safety, relief.

You couldn’t help but pant with parted lips as you feebly stepped up a ridge and forced your legs to move along - one after the other. That’s all. That’s all that it was. And yet, the simple act of walking felt as though it were the most impossible thing you’d ever done.

Nothing in your parched, sun-fried brain could tell you what the hell you had even been thinking coming all the way out here. You’d struck up a deal with a wastelander over the net abour buying a bike that looked preem enough to have come straight from the dealer’s website. Now, you were sure that’s where it had been from.

By the time you’d parked your car in the middle of the abandoned lot you and the seller had agreed to meet at, it had been too late. You’d been met with a tap on your window from the end of a pistol barrel, and on the other side had been a man wearing a mask over his face and goggles over his eyes to shield himself from the sand blowing in the breeze.

The was a blur in the forefront of your mind, too fast and miserable and beige-tinted to remember much.

The scavengers had pulled you from your car and stripped you of anything useful you had - your pieces, the tools from your trunk, hell - they’d even taken your belt buckle, thinking it to be worth anything more than a few dozen eddies. You had cried out, screamed for help as they backed you against your car and beat the living sense out of you, but of course no one had come. Your yells had been noting more than a few whispers on the wind, as far as anyone else was concerned. They had left you in that lot, staring up at the blinding sky, feeling blood slip from your mouth and trickle down the side of your face. Gasping for air in your bruised lungs.

Wondering how you had been so fucking stupid.

You’d been walking for what felt like hours now - the sun was beginning to set over the jagged tops of the mountains, threatening to drench you in the everlasting darkness of the Badlands. If you could get scammed, jacked, and hacked in broad daylight, you were terrified to think of what could happen when not even the light was there to guide you.

Water was merely a dream, an illusion, as was any hope of making it back to the city in one piece. Your feet dragged behind you and your heart thundered in your ears. A migraine like you’d never felt before was pounding like a jackhammer at the front of your skull, blurring your vision at the edges, and for every five steps you took forward, you stumbled back three to keep your balance. You knew if you fell to the grainy, unforgiving ground now, you’d never be getting back up again.

A low, exhausted moan escaped your lips as you half-collapsed, rocks and sharp-edged pebbles digging into your palms as you fought to keep yourself upright. You had no one back home - no significant other, no family, hardly many people you knew well enough to call friends. If you died out here, no one would come looking for you. You’d become another statistic of the missing persons files, forever lost out here to the uneven dunes and hungry landscape.

Just when you were about to finally keel over and call it quits, finally acknowledge that you weren’t going to ever touch the paved tarmac of the Night City streets again, you created a small ridge and laid eyes upon light. A small, grouped number of glowing lights, illuminating the faint shapes of trucks, and bikes, and makeshift tents and lean-tos.

Nomads.

It was a nomad camp.

Your heart surged in your hollow chest and you picked up your pace, ignoring the aching in your legs and the dry, grainy feeling scratching at your lungs.

“Hey,” you said softly, then covered your mouth with a fist as you coughed and hacked. Each spasm was as painful as pins dancing along your throat. You stumbled forward, approaching the camp slowly, watching as the shapes grew more clear and the lights became brighter. You could see the silhouettes of people wandering about their business, gathered around campfires and discussing lazy topics over bottles of beer. You ached for just a sip - just a single drop to roll down your tongue.

You had just reached the perimeter of the nomad camp when, like a star falling from the sky, a miniature explosion detonated just inches from your feet. As you helped and tipped sideways, collapsing in the sand, you realized it had not been an explosion, but a bullet landing before you in a warning. Your ears rang like bells as you feebly rolled onto all fours, your head spinning. The nomads were blurs of motion as they moved, shouting and calling commands, racing to and fro. They were preparing - for what? It was only you here.

Only parched, fried, dying you.

A croaked gasp was pulled from your cracked lips when a boot shoved you over, sending you onto your back. Not a moment later, the barrel of a rifle was shoved against your throat. The metal was cool. You fought against the instinct to wrap your hand around the barrel and pull it closer.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” spat the young woman at the other end of the rifle. “Pretty stupid to try and sneak up on us all by yourself. Tell me how many of you there are, and I might think about letting you keep your head.”

You blinked tiredly, the world going in and out of focus like a video with bad resolution, as two more men skidded to a stop beside the woman to peer down at you.

“Good shot, Panam,” said one.

“Mm,” agreed the other on her right. He brandished a slick pistol and aimed it at your middle, ignoring the way you gasped and cried silently for air, for water, for anything. “I wouldn’t have been so kind.”

You heaved in a dry breath, your tongue refusing to work. You would have cried out of pain, out of frustration and exasperation, but no tears were able to crawl into the corners of your eyes. You were sucked dry, with nothing left to give except the sweat rolling down your back and neck.

“How many of you are there?” the woman called Panam demanded again. She placed a heavy boot on your chest, restricting a bit of whatever airflow you had left, and your eyes widened. Scrabbling at her ankle, you kicked aimlessly as you battled to inhale. “Tell me!” The boot pressed further, and you sputtered out a dry squawk. You heard her pull the bolt of her rifle, felt the used cartridge bounce off your arm. “Last chance, you scav scum.”

“Panam!” There came a loud, booming voice that seemed to shake the ground beneath you, commanding respect and authority over all else surrounding you - even nature itself. The boot was lifted off your chest and you raised a trembling hand to your throat, taking a short, shaky breath in. Through the dizzying spinning of the world and the hammer-like thundering in your skull, you turned your head slightly and caught the hazy figure of a man striding toward the scene with broad, level shoulders and boots that were scuffed with years wear and tear. That was all you were able to catch before you covered your eyes with your hands and moaned for a breath, for a drink, for anything that would bring you from this dry hell.

“What was that shot?” asked the new man as he approached the others. “What’s going on here?”

“Stopped a scav from sneaking under our noses.” The toe of Panam’s boot nudged your leg. “Pretty lousy, scav, at that.”

You listened to that heavy pair of footsteps come closer until they were right beside your head. A hand, large and rough with calluses from hard work and manual labor, took your wrist and pulled it away from your face. Through your haze you could only just make out an arm lined with tattoos, a head full of hair like chestnut that draped over shoulders, and a well-kept beard. You opened your mouth to babble out an apology, to beg that they let you go, but all that came out was a raspy groan.

“Dammit, Panam, she’s not a scav.” The man released your arm, turned away from you. “She’s from the city. Look at her clothes. She’s not from out here.”

“Well, how was I supposed to know?” came the reply, almost childlike in its nature. “I see someone trying to get the jump on us, I take them out. Isn’t that what we’re supposed to do? Protect each other?”

“Go back to your hut. No more guard duty for the rest of the night.”

“Saul-“

“Now, Panam.”

You listened to a hiss of fury and the sound of fading footsteps before slowly attempting to roll over onto your hands and knees. That unreasonable, delusional part of you was beginning to take over. Maybe if you were quick, you could sneak away…

Your feeble escape attempt was halted when that same hand as before grabbed your shoulder and rolled you back around onto your backside. You weren’t able to put up much of a fight, only gasp and paw at clothes and skin, as those hands wrapped under your shoulders to lift you up off the rocky, sweltering ground.

“Mitch,” said the man above you. Saul? “Grab her feet. Help me bring her up.”

Another pair of hands wrapped around your calves and suddenly you were lifted off the desert floor, being carried through the nomad camp like a prize from the latest hunt. You couldn’t do much but moan and gasp in short breaths, watching with dazed eyes as the sun finally disappeared behind the range.

“Where to? The doc’s?” said the man at your feet.

“My space,” said the other at your head. “She’s dehydrated to all hell and back. I’ve got the keys to our reserves in my truck.”

What could have been either seconds or hours later - you’d all but lost track of all meaning of time - the men carried you up a set of stairs leading into a hollowed-out semi truck. You saw the shapes and frames of a couch and a tool bench, a bed and a little folding table in the corner. They set you down on the bed, carefully lifting your feet comfortably out in front of you.

Then Saul, who had saved you from the young woman with a rifle, who had carried you all the way up into this truck, pulled a ring of keys from a space beneath the table and tossed them to his partner. “Go and fetch a whole jug,” he instructed, and within just a moment, Mitch was gone.

Saul disappeared, too. You watched as he exited the truck, shouting to his people, and attempted to sit up in the bed. You’d heard things about nomads - that they kidnapped people from the city and held them for ransom, that they ran with the coyotes and ate what they left behind. You’d never seen any evidence of these claims, but you weren’t about to find out.

You had just managed to swing one leg over the edge of the bed before Saul, hulking and sinewy in the doorway of the semi, reappeared. He gently, but firmly, pushed you back down onto the mattress and lifted your leg to where it had been.

“Easy, girl,” he said and leaned over you. You shut your eyes when he draped a cold, wet cloth over your forehead. “Keep still, hear? Don’t need you collapsing again on us.”

Mitch entered the truck lugging a large, clear jug of water at his side. At the sight of it, of what you’d been thinking of for hours, you pushed against Saul and attempted to tumble out of the bed yourself.

“Good to see she’s still got some fight in her,” Mitch joked as he popped the tab of the jug and handed it to Saul. “At least she ain’t gone mad to the heat.”

“Not yet, anyway.” The muscles in his bare arms flexing beneath the ink of his tattoos, Saul lifted the jug’s tab to your lips and tipped it back. When you weren’t able to lift yourself to meet it, he nestled a hand beneath your sweaty head and raised it himself.

The moment the cool liquid hit your mouth, you almost moaned aloud at how sweet and wonderful it tasted. It felt even better going down your throat. You couldn’t ignore the fact that the hand cradling your head was sending butterflies through your veins at the same time, but your sole focus was on the water trickling down your chin and onto your shirt. Gulp after gulp, you drank, refusing to let the nomad pull the jug away, even when you felt your belly fill.

“Careful,” said Mitch as Saul again tried to pry the container from your lips. “Don’t drink it too fast or else -“

Before he could finish, you suddenly shoved the jug away and made to lean over the side of the bed. With the toe of his boot, Saul hooked a metal container beneath the bed and whisked it out onto the open floor. Not a moment later, you hung over the edge of the mattress and vomited water and bile into the pan. The retches heaved through your body in an uneven tempo, your systems overwhelmed from having been dry to the bone to suddenly flowing over with water.

When you finally returned to dry heaving, shaking as spit up ran down your chin and nose, Saul retrieved the wet cloth from where it had fallen on the bed and used it to gingerly wipe your face clean. Your chest, soaked through your shirt from the runoff water, heaved for breath as you let him settle you back down and offer a few chaser sips of water to your lips.

“You’re alright,” Mitch said as you felt your face heat upon the realization of what you’d just done - in front of strangers, no less. “We‘ve all been there. Can’t say you’re a nomad without suffering a few heatstrokes.” He picked up the pan as if it were nothing, then clambered down the steps into the open night. “I’ll get the air conditioning going,” he called back in, then heaved the semi’s door shut.

Slowly, as if you were surfacing from being held underwater, you began to regain your senses. Understand what was going on, where you were. You were in the middle of a nomad camp, in a truck, alone with a man called Saul. And he was pulling off your shoes. Blinking through tired eyes, you watched the ceiling of the truck as you felt him peel off your socks, as well. Then he began to fumble with the button of your pants.

Summoning every ounce of strength you had left to give, you thrashed like a cornered animal and cried out through your still-weary throat. Saul at once backed off, watching as you curled into yourself in the corner of the bed. Your eyelids were drooping, your arms and hands and fingers still shaking.

“Mmuh,” you mumbled over your dead tongue. You scooted further away when he took a step toward you. Fuck, the rumors had been true. They just wanted to use you and throw you back out into the desert when they were done. “Sta… sty’ back,” you warned, though you knew there was really nothing you would be able to do against him.

Saul raised a hand in a little surrender warning, keeping his short distance from your corner of the bed. “Easy, girl,” he said again. “Not going to hurt you.” He nodded with his head gingerly, a few strands of hair falling from his shoulder to his neck. “We need to get your clothes off. You’re not going to cool down any faster than spending a night out here in the Badlands. Your skin needs to breathe, get its bearings again.”

For a long while, you considered him. His eyes were dark and stormy, heavy with a thousand burdens and not enough solutions. His movements were authoritative and stern, yet mindful and careful all at once, like he knew the repercussions his very footsteps may leave behind.

He did not seem like the kind of man who would throw you to the jackals and vultures.

Slowly, tentatively, you unfurled yourself and eased across the bed. He took a few steps closer, gently easing you back onto your ass, and pulled your shirt over your head. He had been right, you found; the moment your shirt left your body, it felt as though you were able to breathe again. The sand prodding against your skin, the feeling of carrying around another ton - it all went away. Though your arms were shaking, you managed to lift up your hips so that he could slide your pants off your legs, leaving you in just your bra and panties.

It would have felt strange being practically naked in front of a man you’d never met before - in front of a man who was standing so close that you felt his breath on your shoulder - but something within you felt slightly at ease. This man was taking care of you, inspecting the bruises along your arms and middle with a touch that just only ghosted your skin, gave you tiny sips of water - just enough to keep you on the edge, leaning forward for more.

After Saul had helped you wrap up in a sheet and left a mug of water where you could reach it, he took a seat on the couch facing the bed. When he sat, he let out a deep sigh, and you noticed he let his left leg straighten and relax while his rig remained bent and stiff. A bad joint, perhaps?

For a while, a long, still silence filled the belly of the truck. You took little drinks from the mug, keeping it close to your chest, your eyes trained on Saul’s fingers. A couple of rings adorned his knuckles, glinting in the light from the lamp sat beside the couch. His fingers were long and thick, rough with scars and calluses, each with a story of their own. You shifted, slightly ashamed, when a short rush of arousal shot to your core.

What kinds of things, besides tune-ups, and feeding his people, and firing a gun could those hands do?

“Thank you,” you found yourself saying, finally able to gain control of your tongue again. You swallowed thick and hunched your shoulders. “For helping me. I’m… I’m sure you have lots of other people to keep well-taken care of.”

Saul released a groan from deep in his chest, sounding akin to some kind of agreement. “I do,” he said, rubbing at his temple. “But just because someone’s not my people doesn’t mean I turn them away when they’re in need.“

Outside, someone had begun to strum a melody on a guitar. A number of voices sang along to a song you didn’t know, a harmony of deep and light and wonderful and awful.

These people weren’t savages or plunderers. They were friends. They were a family.

Perhaps… perhaps the rumors had been wrong, after all.

You took another sip of water and reached up to wipe your lip with your thumb. You found him watching your movements. “Listen, I’ll be out of your hair in a while. I just… I just needed to rest a while.”

Saul hummed again. “No,” he said in such a commanding tone you were at once inclined to agree with him. “You’ll stay here for the night. If you’re feeling up to it tomorrow, we’ll take you back to town. We were heading there to stock up on supplies, anyhow.”

You said nothing at first. How incredibly scary this man had been at first, towering over you on the ground with those dark, broody eyes trained on your very soul. But now he was… rather charming. Dark and mysterious, sure, but no less attractive.

You realized you had been staring at him. And he had been staring at you.

Switching your gaze down to your mug of water, because you felt as though you’d blurt out all the filthy things you were thinking if you kept looking at him, you swallowed down the last few bits of sand sticking to your throat. “So, is that… Panam… is she your kid?”

The man before you gave a sort of scoff and a twitch of his lips - you’d hit a sore subject. “Something like that,” he answered shortly, then reached up and harrumphed as he flicked a piece of hair over his shoulder. “We picked her up years ago when she was young. Brought her up for a while. Recently, she’s started to push back. Question how things run around here.” He raised a hand and dropped it again, and it occurred to you that perhaps you were the first person he’d unloaded this burden on in a long time. “She doesn’t get that everything I do around here is for the best - for everyone. Even if it doesn’t align with her own morals.”

For a long while, silence enveloped the gutted belly of the truck. You set your mug down on the floor and hugged the sheet tighter around yourself. Outside, the song being played ended with a loud, overjoyed cheer from its singers. They all sounded so… happy. Content. At peace.

“Well,” you said slowly, hoping you weren’t crossing any lines, “I, uhm… I haven’t really been here lucid enough to think straight long, but… it seems like you’re doing something right.” When he settled his gaze upon you, you nodded to the door leading out into the night illuminated by song and campfire glow. “I can’t say I’ve ever seen so much… camaraderie before. This day and age, it’s kill or be killed, but you all…” You trailed off, shrugging your bare shoulders beneath the sheet. “You have each other. I can’t really talk much, but that seems like something to be proud of.”

Saul, for once in the short while you’d been sitting with him, seemed to be short of answers to your words.

Perhaps it was the adrenaline high that had been fueling your brain not too long ago, or maybe it was the feeling that spread throughout your abdomen when he looked at you, but something propelled you to scoot forward on the bed and try to rise to your feet.

Saul stood just as you climbed into a stand, reaching out to keep you down on the bed, but you reacted first. You stumbled forward on your still-wobbly feet and tumbled right into his broad chest. He exhaled a surprised grunt. You both landed back on the couch, only now you were straddling his thick, muscular thigh and your front was pressed against his without a sliver of space between you.

Your breaths each came out in puffs and pants, startled by the sudden fall. It wasn’t long before you each sprung into action.

He leaned forward to meet you halfway when you brought your lips toward his, locking your mouths together with the same kind of fervor you gave. His hands were firm but gentle all at once, mindful of the sore spots along your arms and middle, as if he’d memorized each and every place where a bruise blossomed. They eventually landed on your barely-clothed hips. While he busied himself, like an explorer mapping out new, unfamiliar terrain, you licked your tongue into his mouth and pulled him by his hair closer. He tasted of some musky liquor and a dense air you could not place. Rough and demanding, yet protective and heavy and like home - the way a leader should be.

When you finally pulled away from him to catch your breath, your chest now heaving and caving rapidly, Saul hummed lowly and nudged your forehead with his nose. “Ballsy, aren’t you, girl?” he said, and you shivered as you felt his hot breath fanning across your face. “Not a lot of people would shove their tongues down the throat of the leader of the Aldecados.” He took the point of your chin between his thumb and forefinger so that you peered up at him. “You’ve got courage. I admire that.”

By now, arousal had began to pool in the bottom of your belly like a coiled serpent, snapping and hissing to be set free. Your cunt ached, clenching around nothing, and you nearly moaned in relief when Saul shifted you over his thigh so that the rough material of his pants rubbed your clit through your panties just right. He noticed your reaction and hitched his leg slightly, causing you to bounce gently on his thigh. This time, a soft, quiet mewl did escape your throat.

Saul hummed and leaned forward to begin nipping and sucking love spots into the delicate skin of your neck. “Pretty girl likes getting off on my leg, doesn’t she?” he growled against the column of your throat. You gasped when he hitched his leg again, and a wonderful, delightful flood of leaden pleasure spread through your systems. “Do it, then. Show me just how tough you really are, baby.”

Who were you to object?

Clinging onto his muscular shoulders for support, you began rocking yourself against his clothed thigh, shifting and grinding so that your clit was stimulated in just the right way. Practically humping his hip, you let out soft, panting sighs and moans and mewls as you moved.

Saul’s hand moved around your back to unclasp your bra, moving you arms for just a fraction of a second so that he could pull it off and drop it to the floor. He pulled a long, high-pitched whimper from the bottom of your throat when he attached his lips to your nippe, beard scratching against the vulnerable skin of your chest. Pleasure like you weren’t sure you’d ever experienced coursed through you like fine whiskey or a static-infused drink from an overpriced club.

Fuck, this shouldn’t have felt this good.

But it did. It fucking did.

“Atta’ girl,” Saul muttered into the valley between your breasts when the rolls of your hips began to grow faster. He felt your arousal soaking through his pant leg, your panties completely ruined. You were chasing that high as your cunt clenched and you whined every time his lips pressed wet, open-mouthed kisses against your sternum. “Ride, cowgirl.”

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Saul,” you said, and repeated his name, that one word, that sounded like a chanted prayer now as you neared your end. That coil within you was tightening, that abused power source about to implode and take out everything with it. “Saul, Saul, Saul…!”

He pressed his lips flush against yours, hands splayed across the skin of your back, like he was shielding you from the rest of the world, claiming you. “Come on,” he breathed against your mouth. “Cum for me.”

You found you could not go against anything this man said.

With a shattered cry muffled by his shoulder, your hips stuttered and you hit your peak like a lone wanderer who never wanted to come down. You shoved your hips, your oversensitive clit, against his thigh, attempting to remain up in those clouds that felt you during your orgasm.

When you eventually came back around, you found Saul was pulling your hair from your sweaty face, whispering praise against the shell of your ear.

“Good girl,” he said in that low, husky tone of his that sent your stomach flipping. “My good girl. Tamed already, aren’t you?”

You gave a weak, half-hearted agreement. He shifted his weight so that he now lay across the couch with his feet propped against the opposite armrest and your limp form sprawled across his front. He squeezed your hips, fingertips playing with the hem of your soaked panties.

It seemed an eternity of still, peaceful quiet had passed when Saul spoke again. “You got anyone back home waiting for you?”

“No,” you answered at once. Perhaps too quickly, too eagerly. “It’s just me.”

“Hmm.” For a moment, he seemed to consider, his gaze - now simmering down from their previous state of lust-fueled frenzy - stuck to your head as he carded through your hair. “Didn’t make what I’d call a good first impression,” he said, “but I could convince the others to clear a seat for you around the fire. Scrounge up a spare motor. You know how to ride?”

It took your short-circuited brain a long minute to comprehend what he was saying. He was inviting you to join his family - the Aldecados.

You thought. You had nothing back in the city - just a cheap, shitty apartment, a dead end job, and a stack of bills only growing by the day. Chaos. Havoc. But out here… there was everything you didn’t know. The unknown of what might come the next day. Sandstorms, and bandits, and everything else in between… but a family. People willing to watch your back without expecting anything in return. Friends and cousins and brothers and sisters.

A man who had just fucked you senseless, and even still now, saw something within you he thought worthy enough to travel with him and his nomads.

The answer came out easier than expected. “Yeah,” you said and smiled up at him. “I can ride.”

[eurovision-song-bracket]

Welcome to the Eurovision Song Bracket!

This will be a fairly large bracket, consisting of two "teams" of 68 songs for a total of 136 competitors!

The first team has been preselected, and will consist of all previous winners or popular vote winners if applicable.

This means that if your favorite song won, you do not need to submit them (a couple of exceptions apply, see list at the bottom/read more for details)

Submissions are closed!

Rules!

- Entries must have been a part of the main competition of Eurovision of any year (I might do a MGP mini bracket if the people want that)

- Once again, you do not need to submit winners, they are (mostly) automatically in. Again, see bottom for details and explanations.

- You may submit multiple songs, but please don't send the same song over and over.

- Propaganda is highly encouraged! There is a spot for it in the submission form, and adding it on to the poll itself or sending an ask is also allowed. You may send a DM, but I'll probably be slow to respond that way.

How it Works!

- There will be multiple brackets of 34 songs

- Each of the preselected winners will be randomly against one of the submitted songs. Pairings will be decided through number assignment and a random number generator.

- Vote for your favorite! I will include links to the songs in the poll so you can listen to both before voting. The winner will move onto the next round until we find the winner of that bracket.

- Once all brackets are complete, the winners of their individual brackets will go onto the finals to determine the (unofficial) Ultimate Eurovision Song Winner!

- There will be a preliminary around, as 1969 (hehe nice) had a four way tie, so we will need to determine which of those four will represent that year!

Tagging some other brackets to get the word out

@animalcrossingshowdown @ultimate-soup-showdown @least-sexy-man-competition @soulmatebracket @irlcats-bracket @little-cat-showdown @bestvegetablepoll @baby-brawl-bracket @died-but-not-dead-tournament @unusannusbracket

Click the read more for the list of songs that are automatically in the bracket!

(The colors are just to make it less of a wall of text and easier to read)

(Please let me know if a different color would work better)

1956 - “Refrain” by Lys Assia (Switzerland)

1957 - “Net Als Toen” by Corry Brokken (Netherlands)

1958 - “Dors, Mon Amour” by André Claveau (France)

1959 - “Een Beetje” by Teddy Scholten (Netherlands)

1960 - “Tom Pillibi” by Jacqueline Boyer (France)

1961 - “Nous Les Amoureux” by Jean-Claude Pascal (Luxembourg) 1962 - “Un Premier Amour” by Isabelle Aubret” (France)

1963 - “Dansevise” by Grethe and Jøren Ingmann (Denmark)

1964 - “Non ho l'età” by Gigliola Cinquetti (Italy)

1965 - “Poupée de cire, poupée de son” by France Gall (Luxembourg) 1966 - “Merci, Chérie” by Udo Jürgens (Austria)

1967 - “Puppet on a String” by Sandie Shaw (UK)

1968 - “La la la” by Massiel (Spain)

1969 – [FOUR WAY TIE – SPAIN UK NETHERLANDS FRANCE, PRELIM POLL] “Vivo Cantando” by Salomé (Spain) ; “Boom Bang-a-Bang” by Lulu (UK) ; “De Troubadour” by Lenny Kuhr (Netherlands) ; “Un jour, un enfant” by Frida Bocara (France)

1970 - “All Kinds of Everything” by Dana (Ireland)

1971 - “Un banc, un arbre, une rue” by Séverine (Monaco)

1972 - “Après Toi” by Vicky Leandros (Luxembourg)

1973 - “Tu te reconnaîtras” by Anne-Marie David (Luxembourg)

1974 - “Waterloo” by ABBA (Sweden)

1975 - “Ding a Dong” by Teach-in (Netherlands)

1976 - “Save Your Kisses For Me” by Brotherhood of Man (UK)

1977 - “L'Oiseau et l'Enfant” by Marie Myriam (France)

1978 - “א-ב-ני-בי / A-Ba-Ni-Bi” by Izhar Cohen and the Alphabeta (Israel)

1979 - “הללויה /Hellelujah” by Milk and Honey (Israel)

1980 - “What's Another Year” by Johnny Logan (Ireland)

1981 - “Making Your Minds Up” by Bucks Fizz (UK)

1982 - “Ein bißchen Frieden” by Nicole (Germany)

1983 -Si la vie est cadeau” by Corinne Hermès (Luxembourg)

1984 - “Diggi-Loo Diggi-Ley” by Herreys (Sweden)

1985 - “La det swinge” By Bobbysocks! (Norway)

1986 - “J'aime la vie” by Sandra Kim (Belgium)

1987 – “Laß die Sonne in dein Herz“ by Wind (Germany) [REPEAT WIN BY JOHNNY LOGAN(Ireland), USING 2ND PLACE]

1988 - “Ne partez pas sans moi” Céline Dion (Switzerland)

1989 - “Rock Me” by Riva (Yugoslavia)

1990 - “Insieme: 1992” by Toto Cutugno (Italy)

1991 – “Fångad av en stormvind” by Carola (Sweden)

1992 - “Why Me?” by Linda Martin (Ireland)

1993 - “In Your Eyes” Niamh Kavanagh (Ireland)

1994 - “Rock 'n' Roll Kids” Paul Harrington and Charlie McGettigan (Ireland)

1995 - “Nocturne” by Secret Garden (Norway)

1996 - “The Voice” by Eimear Quinn (Ireland)

1997 - “Love shine a Light” by Katrina and the Waves (UK)

1998 - “דיווה /Diva” by Dana International (Israel)

1999 - “Take Me to Your Heaven” by Charlotte Nilsson (Sweden)

2000 - “Fly on the Wings of Love” by Olsen Brothers (Denmark)

2001 - “Everybody” by Tanel Padar, Dave Benton, and 2XL (Estonia)

2002 - “I wanna” by Marie N (Latvia)

2003 - “Everyway That I Can” by Sertab Erener (Turkey)

2004 - “Wild Dances” by Ruslana (Ukraine)

2005 - “My Number One” by Helena Paparizou (Greece)

2006 - “Hard Rock Hallelujah” by Lordi (Finland)

2007 - “Молитва / Molitva” by Marija Šerifović (Serbia)

2008 - “Believe” by Dima Bilan (Russia)

2009 - “Fairytale” By Alexander Rybak (Norway)

2010 - “Satellite” by Lena (Germany)

2011 - “Running Scared” by Ell and Nikki (Azerbaijan)

2012 - “Euphoria” by Loreen (Sweden)

2013 - “Only Teardrops” by Emmelie de Forest (Denmark)

2014 - “Rise Like a Phoenix” by Conchita Wurst (Austria)

2015 - “Heroes” by Måns Zelmerlöw (Sweden)

2016 - “1944” by Jamala (Ukraine)

2017 - “Amar pelos dois” by Salvador Sobral (Portugal)

2018 - “Toy” by Netta (Israel)

2019 - “Arcade” by Duncan Laurence (Netherlands)

2020 – [CANCELLED]

2021 - “Zitti e buoni” by Måneskin (Italy)

2022 - “Стефанія / Stefania” by Kalush Orchestra (Ukraine)

2023 - “Cha Cha Cha” by Käärijä (Finland) [Second highest popular vote ever, also repeat win by Loreen(Sweden)]

[itsclydebitches]

I mentioned in the tags of a recently reblogged post that I had Opinions™ about the “OFMD fandom is racist because they’re interpreting Ed as illiterate” take that’s been gaining traction lately, so I finally decided to slam those opinions into a post. Specifically, I want to list the textual details that made me, personally, come to the conclusion that Ed is (likely) illiterate as a means of pushing back against this growing idea that anyone who crafts meta under that assumption, includes it as a characterization in fics, uses it as a means of theorizing about season two, etc. is automatically coming from a place of racism... rather than, in actuality, a pretty solid canonical interpretation. So some things this post is not includes:

A claim that OFMD/fandom in general isn’t racist in other respects. I’m speaking solely about this one example.

A claim that Ed is definitely, 100%, no room for discussion illiterate. I believe it’s a likely possibility based on what we’ve seen, but the show hasn’t provided confirmation one way or the other.

An attack against any headcanoning. Fans are free to imagine up and/or hope for whatever they like, regardless of how persuasive a reading others find it to be.

Okay, I’m doubting my ability to string this all together with halfway decent transitions right now (the heat is making my brain buzz like TV static), so let’s just stick to a list form.

1. Lucius Establishes That Illiteracy is the Norm in Pirate Culture

First off, OFMD introduces class differences in the pilot episode by having Stede gush about the “full library” he has on board... to his personal scribe... who is writing down his thoughts and adventures purely for vanity’s sake (the fact that they’re later used to save Stede’s life is a separate matter from his intentions here), only to suddenly get hit with the knowledge that no one else on the ship can read.

“That’s not... is that true?” he asks, dumbfounded, and then Stede answers his own question with a rather distasteful scoff. Lucius responds with a look that I can only affectionately caption as, ‘This bitch.’ 

(I am also once again apologizing for the horrendous ‘screenshots’ taken with my phone.) 

All of this is deliberate. We’re setting up the dichotomy of pirate vs. gentry culture, as well as one of Stede’s major flaws. Namely, using the privilege of his upbringing as a crutch/personal safety net (with a side of that arrogant superiority: “Don’t debase yourself for a man who doesn’t even have a tureen on board!”). This is why Oluwande and Jim need to explain that for them, piracy isn’t a fun, midlife crisis and Stede comes to the realization, “I’m not a pirate, I’m an idiot.” Wealth is why he’s able to run from Ed the moment his anxiety gets the better of him, hurting him and Mary in one fell swoop when he shows back up all, ‘I’ve decided to be your husband again the same way I decided to be a pirate. Everyone bow to my whims and the privilege that allows me to enforce them!’ The ability to pay wages and read bedtime stories is what keeps Stede’s mutiny on hold for so long (a sharp contrast to Izzy who has no such luxuries to offer as a way of offsetting his own, difficult personality), Stede’s gentlemanly demeanor (born of a lifetime of social education) is what first draws Ed to him, then it’s his material wealth, and finally Stede giving up his fortune to return with only a dinghy and the clothes on his back is the sign of emotional growth.

Literacy isn’t the only marker of Stede’s privilege—far from it—but it is a major one and it’s important for setting up this contrast that drives much of the character work. Yes, Lucius is technically wrong about being the only other member of the crew who can read, though it’s clear why he came to that conclusion when Jim was pretending to be mute and couldn’t just say, ‘Hey, I can read and write too.’ Beyond that one mistake though, we have no reason to doubt Lucius’ claim. Not when the group is worried about who will continue their bedtime stories if Captain is dead and Lucius sucks at the voices. Don’t we think someone else would have spoken up to solve the dilemma if they could? More importantly, revealing that actually more of/most of the crew can read would severely undermine that thematic work of Stede’s upbringing—and that goes double for the man who represents the pinnacle of pirate culture: Blackbeard himself. We see through our flashback that Ed does not come from a place of privilege, which includes both education and material wealth based on how the show has defined privilege via Stede. Though it’s hardly impossible for Ed to have picked up reading later in life while still grappling with the trauma of growing up poor, for me there’s nothing to indicate that. Far from it: the show goes out of its way to emphasize all the ways in which Ed and Stede contrast one another, with Stede’s privilege—reading included—presented as markers of a life and emotional expression that Ed simultaneously longs for, yet feels that he’s undeserving of.

2. Ed is Shocked By the Amount Stede Has Read

When Ed is presented with Stede’s library he acts like a man who has never had access to so many books before. “Incredible,” he whispers, staring at the shelves in awe.

Except then Ed goes on to specify what exactly he’s in awe of and it’s not the books themselves. “You’ve read all of these?” he asks Stede, the ‘all’ emphasizing his shock that any one man (even in his forties) could have gotten through this many volumes. Ed doesn’t act like someone impressed with the beauty of the library itself—like we might see if he too was a reader and was simply impressed by the pretty bindings—but rather at Stede’s ability to read any library, but particularly one of this size. When Stede says that these are just his favorites, Ed gives a little huff of stunned disbelief. These are not the reactions of a man who frequently keeps books in his own cabin to peruse. Rather, they’re the reactions of someone who hasn’t read much himself, if anything at all.

In addition, Ed doesn’t engage with the text when Stede hands him the book. I’ve seen a couple people say that Ed can clearly read because he knew that was a picture of himself, but really, it’s not a hard thing to deduce. Even if Stede hadn’t led with this being something he thinks Ed will enjoy—AKA, it’s likely something about you—for all the fantasy details of nine guns and snake-like hair, Blackbeard is pretty distinctive in his look. That’s that point. He has long hair, a massive black beard, dresses all in leather, and is depicted with pirate-y things like ships and treasure. You don’t need to be Sherlock Holmes to figure out who that’s supposed to be an illustration of. The point though is that there’s a page of text to the left and, more importantly, a big title claiming he’s “The Mad Devil Pyrate Blackbeard,” yet Ed doesn’t take issue with the “mad” or the “devil” part. He jumps straight to looking at the image itself, despite the writing being just as valid a detail to get angry over as the nine guns.

3. Ed Treats The Books He Comes Across as Disposable

Going off of his reaction to Stede’s library, I think it would still be possible to argue that Ed is primarily impressed with the number of books he possesses (another kind of material privilege) if we didn’t see Ed get access to a huge number of books and immediately discard them. In “The Best Revenge is Dressing Well,” they raid the vessel where Stede finds several shelves of books, enough that he also refers to it as a “library.” This tells us then that most ships probably have at least a couple books on board and many, like this one, might have a big selection. So if Ed had wanted a library like Stede’s, he could have easily gotten one. He’s Blackbeard and he’s been looting ships for several decades at this point. The only reason why someone that impressed with Stede’s books would pass off so many opportunities to get his own would be if he doesn’t have a use for them, especially when books don’t carry the same toxic masculinity implications as a cashmere scarf does. Blackbeard, the legend, should be able to read with a safety that he couldn’t, say, dress in a flowery robe and recite poetry. Books are a fairly safe form of expression for a pirate (and entertainment too, something Ed lacks!) yet he doesn’t make use of them.

Instead, the way Ed acts here heavily implies to me that a) he can’t read (or can’t read well) and b) he’s feeling insecure about it. He snaps that this isn’t “how raiding works” when Stede says he’s replacing the books he’s taken with ones he’s already read, despite the fact that Ed has been pretty chill for the rest of the attack and, notably, usually likes Stede’s eccentricities. The most likely reason why he’d suddenly frown at Stede not raiding 'properly’—in a relationship where Stede’s new way of doing things is usually exciting and fascinating to Ed—is if Stede’s book focus is dredging up feelings of inadequacy. Ed opens the book, but flips through it in a way that shows a distinct lack of interest... or an inability to read it. He tosses it aside. Then he slaps the rest of the books out of Lucius’ hands. On its own this interaction might imply that Ed is disdainful of reading in general, but following how enamored he is with Stede’s personal library and his ability to work through it, the scene instead implies illiteracy. Here, Stede is enthusiastic about something Ed can’t share, on an outing where Ed is supposed to be teaching him, so he goes hard on how “raiding works” and makes it clear that books—these useless objects to him—aren’t worth picking up. Drop them and go shove a knife near a guy’s eyeball instead.

4. Ed Signs the Treaty With an ‘X’

I don’t actually have that much to say about this scene (in regards to literacy, anyway), simply because the ‘X’ alone is the big takeaway. I’m sure by now we’ve all seen the tweet claiming that an ‘X’ was used by indigenous people as a form of protest against colonizers and the historical accuracy of that aside (it’s not a discipline I’m at all educated in, but others have pushed back against both OP’s interpretation of the book’s thesis as well as whether this intersects with Māori culture), that’s simply not the most obvious implication here. We know based on interviews that the writers have unintentionally included racial coding in other parts of the show—making the men of color work during Izzy’s brief stint as captain being one of the most well known. That wasn’t meant to be an indicator of racism, just a combination of Nairn having a bad back and dumb luck regarding who was staged to do the work—so this wouldn’t be the first time that fans have come to a very different conclusion than the writers intended. Ultimately, I think it’s FAR more likely that an American writer used a well-known means of conveying illiteracy, as seen throughout American popular culture, in a show that is not at all concerned with historical accuracy... than it is that he included a very subtle, historical allusion to indigenous protest and attached that to a character whose ability to know about that and culturally benefit from it are questionable at best. Though, as said at the start, headcanoning is fantastic and adds a wonderful depth to Ed’s character, from a canonical standpoint this feels like an Occam’s Razor situation to me: the simplest explanation is the most likely.

5. The Show Doesn’t Shy Away From Establishing Who Can and Can’t Read

This is a minor point, but it helps solidify all of the above. We’re told that Stede can read. We’re told that Lucius can read. Again, those are important skills used to separate them from the rest of pirate culture. We learn in a surprise twist that Jim can also read, write, and they’re not actually mute. The show then heavily implies that Izzy can read by a) giving him a voice-over similar to Jim’s (even though we never see what he might be writing in) and b) having him spend time in Stede’s library before the fuckery and then again, this time actually looking through the books (compared to Ed’s disorganized flipping/discarding) and finding an image of Blackbeard all by himself (compared to Stede doing that for Ed). Sure, we could theorize that Izzy just happened to stumble across a book about Blackbeard, maybe because Stede has so many in his collection, and he’s only looking at pictures/pretending to read in the shots where he has a book in hand.. but again, the simplest explanation feels the most persuasive to me. The point being that the show usually makes it very clear who can read and who cannot, with those in the gray area nevertheless leaning hard in one direction. Izzy leans hard into ‘literary.’ Ed does not.

Finally, I want to quickly address a couple of arguments I’ve seen pop up over the last couple of months:

1. The Real Blackbeard was Able to Read (+ You Have to Read to Sail a Ship)

Any and all takes along these lines are immediately suspect in my mind because they’re rooted in historical accuracy... and ignore the fact that OFMD is not historically accurate. At all. The real life Blackbeard did not fall in love with Stede Bonnet. The ship runs on gay sex and story time, not legitimate sailing techniques. Any argument that begins with “But the real Blackbeard...” or “But in real life you have to...” falls flat because this is very much not the real Blackbeard and the plot is in no way bound by realism. I mean, I’m not trying to be a buzzkill. I think it’s fun to play thought games like “What if Ed and Izzy run their ship aground like they did in real life and that becomes a callback to the second episode?” but there’s a difference between fun theorizing about what random events the show might include for the laughs and trying to use historical accuracy as a form of evidence in metas. I mean, Buttons is out here communicating with seagulls and casting hexes so that Calico Jack (presumably) dies via cannonball. When your story is that untethered from reality, any claims based in realism hold little value imo. Ed being able to read because the real Edward Teach could read is no more likely than Ed dying a horrific death at... [checks Wikipedia] hmm. A year after the events of the show start. Should be happening any episode now! 

2. Ed is Able to Read Music

Honestly, as someone with a 2,000 book library and no ability to read music, I’m not sure how one relates to the other, but a couple times now I’ve seen people claim that because Ed plays the harpsichord at the party, he must know how to read. Putting aside the strange conflation though, Ed isn’t reading any music here. He plays solely from memory and, given what else we see of his talents, I wouldn’t be surprised if Ed had simply memorized a few shanties over the years. He’s already learned the shape of the clouds. He dutifully repeats Stede’s words after he’s corrected on the scarf’s fabric—“An exquisite cashmere.” Though he hasn’t got it all down yet, Ed is also well on his way to learning all the insane spoons and forks involved in fine dining. The guy’s got a good head for recalling information, which to me is an entirely separate skill from the specific ability to interpret words on a page.

3. Ed Read the Placards During Dinner

Does he though? The scene begins when Ed is already seated at the table and though he does look towards the placard that says he’s Godfrey’s guest, I interpret that more for the audience’s benefit than anything else. After all, Ed is already sitting down. He knows where he’s supposed to be. Why would he need to re-read his own placard? Despite the glance in that direction, it looks like an establishing shot to set the scene. So then how did Ed know where to sit? Idk, any way someone knows where to sit without looking at their placard. Maybe one of the servants showed him. Maybe another party-goer shooed him into his designated seat. Ed acts lost and confused the whole time, looking in random directions and muttering about snail forks. He doesn’t act like someone who chose this spot confidently, nor does he act like someone who can use reading as a skill to assist him in his anxiety. That is, he doesn’t look for and find Stede’s placard to ensure they’re seated together and he doesn’t realize he’s next to the touchy woman until it’s too late.

4. Finally: How Could Ed Have Drawn an ‘X’ If He Doesn’t Know How to Read?

Because an ‘X’ is just two crossed lines that might not have any meaning to him beyond, ‘This is what illiterate people do to sign their name.’ There’s a huge gap between understanding the ‘X’ as a symbol for this particular situation and knowing how to apply it—along with 25 other letters—to read a language. I can draw the Superman ‘S’ (not an ‘S’!), but that doesn’t mean I can read Kryptonian. I can also recite the Spanish alphabet from middle school, but that doesn’t mean I remember how to apply it after years without practice. Humans are really good at tying signified concepts to signs and an ‘X’ isn’t exactly the most difficult sign to memorize. Of course, it’s also possible that Ed knows his letters, but not how to read Stede’s books. Illiteracy isn’t a black and white state of being: Ed may understand the ‘X’ only as a symbol of agreement, or as a letter, or as a part of a couple words. I feel like the fandom is approaching this as an either/or situation—you can read or you can’t—rather than a very complicated skill that takes years to master, with everyone continuing to learn as time goes on. You think I remember every grammatical rule in the English language? Or that I know the meaning of every word I come across? Or even how to pronounce them? You think I can switch to a culture I’m not a part of—an online space, an academic discipline, a friends’ text exchange—and read through it without stumbling on words, acronyms, and concepts I’ve never encountered? Just as there’s a huge range within my literacy, there’s the possibility for an equally huge range within Ed’s illiteracy too. Maybe he can’t read at all. Maybe he can recognize Godfrey’s name after seeing it on the invitation card. Maybe he can only write his name, but chose not to. Maybe he can do all that, but can’t manage the dense text of Stede’s books. Maybe he can read a bit, but can’t manage the fancy script of the gentry. Maybe the vocabulary is an obstacle. Maybe he learned a long time ago and, like my Spanish, has since lost it. There are a lot of options here that would fall under the large umbrella of 'Ed is illiterate.’

All of which is just to say: those of us working with an illiterate Ed in metas, fanfics, and the like didn’t pull that idea out of thin air and we definitely didn’t hit on it because Ed isn’t white. It’s a reading that the show is very much pointing towards and even if it’s proven wrong in season two, that doesn’t erase the strong implications we got at the start.Yes, there’s a lot wrong with fandom—I’d never deny it—but that’s not going to improve if people put their energy towards pushing inaccurate, but very satisfying claims. It’s a lot easier (and makes people feel good about themselves) to make blanket claims about how Ed Not Being White + Illiterate Interpretations = Racism... but that ease and feelings of superiority don’t make it true. Like the discourse over using any shortened version of Oluwande’s name, or the desire to saddle the antagonist (Izzy) and any fans who like him with accusations of racism, the fandom is looking for easy, black and white rules to avoid being #Problematic. But OFMD is too complicated for that—fandom is too complicated for that—and even if it wasn’t, making up nefarious motivations for character interpretations doesn’t achieve a damn thing.

[sammywolfgirl]

Can you share some String Gummy headcanons? :3

A perfect opportunity to spread my feral string gummy propaganda again!

I say feral but more in a way he kinda acts like a weirdo but doesn’t seem to acknowledge his behavior can be seen as weird.

But also he can be feral I mean you gotta be a little if you consistently try and shoot a net gun at a fucking time god who can age you to death if they wanted.

He kind of has shit standards on food since he survived off rations and occasionally sandwiches in the broken future so he’d eat burnt food and not think it’s a big deal, he kinda has a thing about waisting food, he hates it.

Croissant made him spaghetti once and he cried(pos)

He likes tinkering on his gun and mechanical stuff, just taking it apart and putting it back together. He likely picked up that habit from the Director because she definitely had a nervous habit of that. He took apart his microwave once and put it back together.

One time he ate a screw. He was tired and thought it was food. Now some of the menders dare him to eat other metal stuff. And the mad lad fucking did it.

He was told to stop when one of the menders tried to dare him to eat plexiglass and timekeeper called foul.

String gummy will wrestle if asked to do so. He actually really likes the idea of sparing or boxing but he’s nervous about asking because he’s pretty strong and has training that’s above average compared to the other agents, and he gets self conscious about standing out.

The runners like playing games with string gummy, they have one that’s a modified version of tag, where string gummy is it and after a certain amount of runners are tagged they can turn on string gummy and try and wrestle him to the ground. It’s great.

String gummy would make bank at poker. This man does not emote to anything. Not for lack of trying he’s just got so many issues and is traumatized(tm)

For real though he just represses his emotions a lot, he doesn’t need to anymore but it’s hard to break the habit once you’re out of that crisis situation.

String gummy would kill timekeeper for a corn chip but unfortunately croissant is friends with them so he doesn’t. But he (half seriously) states that if anyone is going to kill timekeeper it’ll be him.

Nobody’s sure how serious of a statement that is but timekeeper is weirdly endeared by it, like she went “you promise :3?”

And then string gummy three a gear at them and she left while giggling.

String gummy is very kind by nature he’s just got so many levels of social anxiety and lack of social skills he tends to come off as rude or cold. He’s working on it.

Walnut and coffee candy are cookies he’s decided he’d kill for. If anything happens to those scrunklys he’s going to raise hell.

[bornforastorm]

wip tag from @majorbaby and @marley-manson and in honor of these beloved mashtuals here's a bit from something I'm tinkering on more than working on.

buuuut companion piece to BJ Goes to Maine is of course Trapper Goes to Maine, and here's a tiny little bit where they talk about Frank:

“I saw him at a conference about six months ago,” Trapper says, laughing. “You can’t imagine what it was like looking up across a room and pow, there’s old ferret face.”

Hawkeye laughs too, because he can imagine it. He can imagine it very clearly. Frank’s tight, pursed expression, his soft chin, his blue eyes. Of course in his imagination Frank is still in his fatigues. It’s hard to imagine him in civilian clothes, even now. 

“I went over to say hello and he tried to run away from me.” 

“But you caught him?”

“In a net. Cornered him. I asked about you.” 

“Oh.” 

“You know what he said?” 

Hawkeye shakes his head. He and Frank didn’t exactly part ways on good terms, which suited Hawkeye fine at the time. It still does, all things considered. All the pity in the world couldn’t overcome the annoyance over Frank’s promotion and the anger that he’d been sent home while, again, Hawkeye had been left in Korea. 

“He said that I broke your heart. That I really hurt you, leaving like I did, and that I should be ashamed of myself.”

The smile, the light laugh, is still there but Trapper’s faking it now. Hawkeye is somewhat moved by Frank’s defense of him. Who would’ve guessed? He’s almost sorry for all those times he prayed Frank was getting elbowed in the ribs by his boney wife. 

“Wow,” Hawkeye breathes. He wants to keep laughing but he can’t make himself. He says, “He was right. For once.”

The air goes out of the room. “Hawk, I’m so sorry, I—“ 

Hawkeye puts a hand over his mouth. The time for apologies is long past. “It doesn’t matter anymore. You’re here now. Frank is somewhere far, far away.” 

The smile returns, all warmth. Hawkeye's favorite kind. He can feel it against his fingers. 

Trapper says, “He always liked you.” 

“Did he? I don’t remember it like that.” 

“He did. He wanted you to like him more than anything, I think.” 

“Too bad his personality was so rotten.” 

“Yeah, too bad.” 

Hawkeye talks about those last few months with Frank, when Margaret was engaged. How he was almost part of the gang, sometimes. Almost a pal, almost willing to play along on a gag. Almost so pathetic he earned pity and kindness. Almost.

Talking about that time leads easily into talking about BJ. And so Hawkeye talks about BJ— a lot.

[doctorstethoscope]

Not Tired || Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader

Hi besties, it’s @ssahotchswife soft hotch saturday again! This one is a request from an anon:

Request:  can you do one where he’s coaching jacks soccer team and after they win they go out to ice cream and then go to the park to get jack tired 🥰

I hope you don’t mind but I took this and really kind of ran with it a little!

contains: loving and respecting Haley Hotchner hours, discussion of parenting (don’t think there should be any triggering content in here but if you need something tagged PLEASE lmk!!)

wordcount: 1.4k

“Come on Jack!” You called from the bleachers as you saw Aaron zipping up the sideline, following the ball. He’s yelling, too, but as the coach his yelling is more instructional and perhaps more productive than yours. Your eyes dart back to Jack on the field, and you realize that he’s lined up for the perfect shot, right past the goalie and into the corner of the neck.  “Shoot it buddy! You got it!” 

As deftly as one can at ten years old, he kicks the ball and it hits the back of the net just as the ref blows the whistle to end the game. They don’t keep score, at his age, but you’re proud of Jack all the same. 

“Did you see me! Did you see me!” Jack asked, bounding over to you without stopping. 

“Of course I did buddy! Go, listen to your dad and tell the other team good game. You’re not quite done yet, sport.” You told him, ruffling his hair and sending him back in the direction of his father as you begin to pack up your belongings. 

Your boys rejoin you after a moment, and you smile at them both. “Good work, Hotchners!” You congratulate them both. “I think you’ve both earned some ice cream.”

Jack is practically buzzing at the thought, and he takes off across the field before either one of you can even get him to take his shin guards off. Aaron wraps an arm around you as you cross the field after him, planting a kiss on the crown of your head. “Good work, coach.” 

“If they were keeping score, we would have won, you know.” He tells you. 

“Aaron, they’re ten.” You laugh. 

“I’m just saying. If you’re into guys that can coach…” he trails off and you throw your head back with your laugh.

 “I’m all set with the guy I’ve got, but thanks for looking out.” You tell him as you meet Jack at the edge of the field. He takes his dad’s hand to enter the parking lot, and you pile yourselves and all of your gear into the car and drive off towards the ice cream parlor. 

Aaron takes your hand as he drives and you peek in the rear view to see Jack struggling to keep his eyes open. You smile at the thought of a quiet afternoon, filled with snuggles on the couch. Jack, of course, perks back up at the promise of ice cream, and as you’re looking around for a table, he finds something even more exciting. 

“Henry!” He exclaims, taking off towards a picnic table where JJ, Will and Henry were sharing a banana split. JJ looks up when Jack arrives at her table and you wave as you make your way over to her. 

“Fancy meeting you folks here,” Will drawls, and you smile. 

“I’d ask if you mind if we crash, but it looks like the boys have made that decision for us.” You laughed, settling in across from JJ and Will as you look over to the kids, who are now sitting in the grass. 

“Uh huh--- and then I kicked the ball into the goal and everyone cheered!!” Jack is regaling to Henry’s rapt attention.

Aaron wraps his arm around your waist as you all eat your ice cream, laughing and joking and enjoying the warm weather. He kisses some wayward ice cream off of your chin and you can’t stop yourself from laughing gleefully-- he’s obviously never this affectionate at work, and you can tell JJ is shocked to see this softer side of him. It occurs to you that they simply don’t know the man who chases Jack around the house in his pajamas and who wakes you up every Saturday morning by singing a love song in your ear and who kisses both you and his son on the forehead every night before you fall asleep. As happy as you were to have that version of him all to yourself, you wish that the others could see little snippets of him like this, too.

“We were just gonna take Henry to the park to burn off a little energy if you want to join?” JJ offered, and Jack heard you. 

“Can we? Please please please please please?” 

“You aren’t tired from your game?” You tried to remind the boy who, less than an hour ago, practically had to be removed from his carseat. 

“No, I’m not tired.” He says quickly. 

“You sure, bud? Henry can play another time.” Aaron backs you up. 

“I’m sure.” He says. The two of you share one of those looks only shared between parents, the kind of look where a whole conversation is exchanged with the speed of a blink and the quirk of a brow. 

“Okay, we can go play for a little while,” Aaron relents, and the six of you make your way over to the park. JJ and Will are prepared with a blanket, and the four of you sit and enjoy a little bit of adult time while the boys chase each other down slides and swing along the monkey bars. Will and JJ are sitting side by side, their thighs touching and their arms all tangled up in each other. Aaron has you pulled between his legs, his arms wrapped around your middle and your head leaning back against his chest. He drops kisses to your temple every so often, and you listen to him and Will chat about the porch Will wants to build around the condo. 

After a little while, Jack bounds up to you, clearly worse for the wear of the day. He settles in between your legs and rests his head on your thigh. You brush your fingers through the sandy blonde hair at his forehead.

“Oh, buddy, you’re pretty wiped, huh?” You ask him, looking down at him with an almost pitiful smile.

“Not tired,” he mumbles against your jeans. “I’m not tired, mumma. I’m just takin a break,” he says, promptly falling asleep in your lap. 

You tense, trying not to wake Jack as you turn to look at Aaron. He’s already looking down at you, and you can feel JJ and Will’s stares boring into your soul.

“We’ll go get Henry,” Will says, helping JJ up and giving the two of you some privacy. 

“I’m sorry,” you say as soon as they are out of earshot. Aaron just laughs, leaning forward to kiss the anxiety off of your face. 

“I’m not,” he tells you, shaking his head and giving you one more kiss before giving you the space to respond. 

“I didn’t tell him to call me that.” You assure him.

“I know you didn’t, hon. Do you not want him to call you that?”

 “No!” You’re quick to correct Aaron before he can hurt his own feelings, accidentally disturbing Jack in the process. You shush him and run your hand through his hair for a moment before he falls back to sleep. “Of course that’s not it, Aaron. But Jack has a mom, a great mom, and I wouldn’t want to dare take her place.”

 Aaron shakes his head. “There’s room in his heart for both of you, just like there���s room in my heart for both of you. You’ve never once asked me to forget about Haley, to act like I never loved her, or to try to live a version of my life that isn’t profoundly altered by her impact on me. Would you ask Jack to do any of that?” 

“Of course not,” You tell him. “I know how much she loved him. I wish she was still here, for both of you.” 

Aaron sighed. “I know, my love. But she’s not here, and you are here. And I know for a fact that she’d be happy to know I found someone who loves her son like their own, and he loves her so much in return that he wants to call her mom, too.” 

You breathe out a little sigh of relief. “I love you. Thank you for letting me love you when you didn’t have to.” 

“Thank you for loving me even when I didn’t want you to.” He tells you in return, kissing the side of your face again before standing up and collecting Jack from your lap without waking him, in the skilled way that only fathers can.  You stand up, your leg now fully asleep from the weight of Jack’s sleeping form against it, and fold JJ’s blanket, crossing the park to return it to her. 

“You okay?” She asked, taking the blanket and wrapping you up in a hug. “I’m sure that was a lot, and unexpected. 

“Yeah, it was.” You agreed. “I’ve never been better.”

[whataperfectwasteoftime]

Born to Run / Chapter 3

Pairing: Marcus Pike x Marathon Runner f!reader (no y/n)

Rating: E for eventual smut

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: Assault mention, brief mention of size kink, one (1) reference to a penis, Marcus is in his feelings again.

Summary: Marcus does some soul searching, and finally takes a look around the cabin to get his bearings.

A/N: I’m new to the whole writing thing, and now I know how it feels to go off on a tangent about furniture and decor in a fic that I’m writing for the sole purpose of getting two people to eventually fuck. But first, let’s talk about 1970s cabins, amiright? This is kind of a shorter filler chapter because I wanted to get back inside Marcus’s head before he ‘runs’ (get it?) into reader again. ALSO - check out the goofy header I made! What do you think? Let me know your thoughts, and whether you'd like to be tagged in future updates.

Chapter 2 | Chapter 4

After dropping you off your car, Marcus let out a breath he felt he had been holding since the moment his coffee cup dropped from his knee to the floor earlier that morning. He watched you get into your car and drive away with a little wave and an awkward smile.

He mentally kicked himself. Why didn’t I ask for her number? Okay, he knew why--an appropriate time to ask for it just never came up. He could tell that you were attracted to him--he nearly lost it when you stammered something about his ‘big hands.’ There was clearly electricity between you two. But dammit, he would have felt like such a creep trying to ask you out after you were just molested by some asshole while out running, whether you were genuinely interested in him or not. The timing just wasn’t right. Isn’t that always the fucking truth, he thought ruefully as he made the short drive back to the cabin. In all the excitement, he almost forgot why he was here in the first place--a compulsory ‘vacation’ from work to deal with a near-mental breakdown after getting his heart broken by Theresa. And instead of spending it reading shitty novels and trying to put himself back together piece by piece, he immediately ran into another woman that he would have loved to have pursued, but couldn’t. Once again, it was all down to bad timing.

Maybe the universe was trying to show him something. More evidence (not that he needed any) that he was a man who falls far too quickly. He already knew this about himself: that he was quick to love, but also quick to anger--the same thing he had sought help for as a younger man. He had painstakingly worked on methods to quiet or slow down some of his stronger emotions, but no therapist had ever told him how to love more cautiously, or less fiercely. He always threw himself headfirst into love--taking giant leaps with no safety net, even if he knew in his heart that it would result in disaster. He had known Theresa was falling for her partner, but he had proposed to her anyway. What did he think was going to happen? If she had ultimately chosen Marcus, she would have only loved him with half her heart, while Marcus would have had no choice but to love her with his entire being. He didn’t know of any other way to love.

He pulled back into the driveway of his cabin and cut the engine. He took a deep breath, held it for a count of four, and let it out completely. That was over now. On to the next thing. He got out of the car and headed inside. In all the morning’s excitement, he still hadn’t had time to give the cabin a proper look.

The house looked like it had been updated in chunks by various owners with competing tastes, replacing what looked like original ‘seventies décor with more and more modern options. Some of the furniture, such as the bookshelves and side tables, had clearly never been touched. The art on the walls was also outdated and tacky by today’s standards. Marcus grinned to himself as he inspected a print of some ducks sitting on a pond. It was one of those paintings that he felt like he’d seen in every shitty hotel room on childhood vacations growing up. It was deliciously tacky, and gave him a feeling of nostalgia for road trips, greasy food, and bad movies on HBO.

In the late morning sun, the panoramic windows in the living room wall bathed the entire room with a beautiful green-tinged glow. The walls were constructed out of thick wooden logs, and the furniture was all rustic-themed, but cozy. There were plush rugs adorning the wood plank floors and a massive stone fireplace with a small, outdated plasma TV on the mantle. The sofa looked to be only ‘new-ish’; it looked like it had spent a well-loved decade in this living room, being a cozy resting place for many years’ worth of visitors and likely being jumped on by children and dogs. The cushions were slightly sunken, and he knew that if he sat down, he would sink comfortably down into them. One side of the couch was a chaise-lounge, and the foot was draped with a crocheted granny-square blanket. He ran a finger across the stitches, feeling the telltale itch of old yarn underneath his fingertip. He turned, headed into the kitchen and looked around. He had already been here, of course, making coffee before the sun and then frantically searching for an ice pack later, but he hadn’t had a chance to really appreciate the mismatch of styles as each sequential owner made their own stylistic choices over the decades.

Here, the cabinets and countertops had clearly been updated recently. The spacious kitchen island was modern cement. The current owner had clearly tried to combine rustic charm with modern aesthetic, and it worked. The appliances; however, were a little more mix and match. The gas stove was shiny and new, as was the dishwasher. But the refrigerator was clearly as old (or older) as the ice pack he had found inside it--and it was olive green. Marcus made a face. It was one of those ‘so hideous, it’s cool’ kind of appliances. No, scratch that--it was only hideous. Marcus moved on.

The bathrooms were thankfully fairly modern, although the standard for ‘modern’ after that olive green fridge was apparently ‘remodeled in the ‘nineties.’ But they were well-kept, with no glaringly dated design features. Meandering back in the living room, a closet tucked into the corner of the room caught Marcus’s eye. He walked over to it and opened the door and found it was packed full of dusty boxes, an old vacuum cleaner and broom, extra light bulbs, and other basic household necessities. But it was the old, black VHS player stacked on top of a pile of boxes that drew his attention. Curious, he carefully picked it up and drew it out of the closet, coating his hands and arms in a light layer of dust. The power cord and auxiliary cables were still plugged into the back. He glanced over at the TV on the mantle. That could be a fun distraction, he thought to himself. He made a mental note to poke around the closet for any tapes, then set it on a side table, dusted himself off a little, and continued on.

There was a little bonus room off of the living room that was occupied by floor-to-ceiling bookshelves and a pair of comfy leather armchairs with an antique lamp on a table between them. Marcus moved over to the bookshelf to peruse the selection. There was a shelf full of classic literature, shelved in no particular order that he could discern--Marcus ran his finger over the spine of Jane Eyre and Wuthering Heights as he read the titles. Oliver Twist. The Great Gatsby. A well-loved paperback copy of The Hobbit. On another shelf was a collection of pulp science fiction, which caught Marcus’s eye. He pulled out one at random, chuckling at the garishly illustrated cover, but raising his eyebrows at the summary in the back. He set it down on the side table next to the chairs to revisit later. Two whole shelves were devoted to nothing but James Patterson novels, which he ignored. There were also a handful of fairly useless non-fiction books--some very old, outdated dictionaries, a thesaurus, a random math textbook, and most puzzlingly, a book on Windows 95. He picked that one up and chuckled as he thumbed through the pages, smiling at the outdated language and old stock photos. He returned it to the shelf and stood, looking out the window at the pond for a few moments.

His thoughts inevitably returned to you. He saw the interest in your eyes when he had looked at you. He wasn’t imagining that. If only he got a chance to see you again, he could judge for himself whether that spark that he had felt was real. He could reassure himself that it wasn’t just a fluke. The proximity of his breakup with Theresa still bothered him, though. He was too close to the situation to be able to see things clearly, and he knew that. He wasn't going into this with a clear mind or a clear heart, and that wasn't fair to you.

Maybe it was better if he didn’t look for you after all. Save you both the trouble. Marcus brought his hand up to the glass, making a fist and resting his forehead on it, looking out across the verdant property. You really had been beautiful. It was something in the self-assured way you carried yourself that he admired. Or maybe it was the quick wit and wry smiles. Maybe it was the power in your legs, he mused. If the timing had just been right, he would have begged to be crushed in between those thighs. His cock gave a little twitch at the thought. Letch, he scolded himself. No, what it really was, he knew, was the way you had looked at him. Really, really looked. With those wide, beautiful eyes of yours. When he had gazed into them, he just knew. You had wanted him too.

If he ran into you again, he knew he wouldn't be able to help himself. He had a weakness for beautiful women, and he was an easy flirt. It was when a relationship moved past flirting and into feelings, that he got himself into trouble. He was only here for a week--if he saw you again, and you were interested in him enough to… ‘spend some time’ with him that week, no strings attached, then what was the harm in having a little fun? He was on “vacation,” after all; and there was nothing wrong with a little bit of rebound sex to improve his outlook on the future, sending him back to work with a clear head and a fresh start.

His stomach rumbled, and he suddenly remembered that he hadn’t eaten since yesterday. There was no food in the house, save for some questionable looking cans of soup in one of the kitchen cabinets. He needed to head into town, get his bearings, and most importantly, get some lunch.

-

Taglist: @honestly-shite , @thirddeadlysin , @deepstarsco , @221bshrlocked , @mando-amando , @frenchyjuju , @farfromjustordinary

[junjungsunwoo]

When The Rain Stops.

Pairing: rich kid! Sunghoon x rich kid! fem! reader

Genre: Angst, very light fluff

Word Count: 10.0k

-> The first time you met him was in the rain. He had looked so mysterious, so...enchanting. Everything drew you closer, making you want to know more about this boy that you met on one cold, rainy day.

Warnings: I don’t remember if I wrote any profanities, abusive family, major character death, car crash, there is a robbery scence, mentions of crontroling parents, there are two or three scences where reader was slapped by her mom, if you see any other I should add please do tell me!

Taglist: @geniejunn​, @deobis-moon​, @taemin-jaemin​, @chaoticdreaminisode​ @abdiitcryy​ @sleepingrenjun @daegalfangirl​ @symoneismeh​ | @imdamconfused​ @geminirules​ (I don’t remember if you guys were in my permanent taglist or not so I’m just tagging you for now, sorry if I bothered you guys T^T)

Networks: @k-dinernet, @foreverkpop-net, @lovesick-net, @hotpink-ent @kpclub @knet-bakery

A/N: I would say sorry this took so long, but it’s 10k and I wrote this faster then I did with Goal! which was 7k so I’d ssy I’ve improved on my speed hehe It would be great if you guys can leave a reblog or comment telling me how the fic was! 

Comments about my fic is greatly appreciated!

-> Part of the Happily Never After collab hosted by me, @junjungsunwoo​. Please do check out the other amazing writers’ works too!

-> collab masterlist

-> main masterlist | enhypen masterlist

April 14th, 2020.

The first time you met him, it was raining.

The sky was dark and grey clouds were all that was visible, the sun was out of your sight. Everyone around you was either walking calmly under an umbrella or running around with their jackets or bags above their heads trying to keep themselves dry for as long as they could. 

You sat under the roof of the bus stop, the roof provided you with a dry safe place for you to stay under until the rain stops. You watch as the people start to disappear, most of them starting to get picked up, or they’ve bought an umbrella from a nearby store, or just plainly walking in the rain unbothered. 

The rain was calming. The sound of the small droplets hitting the ground was soothing in your ears after all of the scoldings you had gotten from your teacher just a few hours ago. The smell of the rain was pleasing, it was light and refreshing- unlike the heavy perfume that was in your face ever since you stepped inside of your high school. 

You close your eyes to take in what was happening around you. 

Without your sight, your hearing was enhanced and you could hear the little things that were happening around you. You could hear the splashes of rainwater when someone steps in a puddle, the sound of fabric fluttering against the wind when a person opens an umbrella, the joyful laughter of kids who are excited to play in the rain, and the sound of cars passing by- splashing water onto the side of the road.

As you enjoy the noise around you, you hear footsteps slowly making their way towards where you sat. The soft sounds of fabric fluttering around were getting closer, as a soft thud was heard right beside you. 

You open your eyes, squinting slightly due to the sudden change in lighting. You look to your left, and there he sat. 

He was soaking wet, water dripped down from the little strands of his black hair which he pushed back revealing his handsome face. From his outfit, you could tell he was a student, but you had no clue which school it was.

 The boy was wearing a dark navy blue pair of pants and a white blouse, which was now see-through due to the water that it had soaked up. The view made the tips of your ears red and your heart beat, but you quickly shook that thought off- instead, you turned over to your bag before pulling out a hoodie that you always kept with you. 

Softly tapping your finger on his shoulders, he turned around to face you. He stares at what was in your hand before he lifted his head to look at you. He had big round eyes and full plump lips, his cheeks had a soft layer of pink on them as it was getting quite cold, and he was wearing a wet outfit. You gesture with your head to your hoodie, telling him silently to use it. 

 He grabs the warm material from your hand before he turns back around to face the road in front of the two of you and puts the hoodie on. He ruffles his hair while shaking his head, trying to get it as dry as he could, before he puts the hood on and turns to face you again.

“Thank you.” His voice was surprisingly soft. He stares at you once again with those big eyes of his, and you could feel your face getting hot. His eyes were big, but they were dull- as if they’ve seen through everything in the world already and were disappointed. You wondered what the boy had seen to have such an expression in his beautiful eyes, but before you could even open your mouth, the boy looked away. 

“You’re welcome.” You look away from the boy and back to the street before the two of you. A comfortable silence falling between the two of you. The both of you did nothing but sat there and watched as cars drove by and waited for the rain to stop, but the rain only started to pour even more. Sighing, you took a look at the boy again, only to find him staring at you already. The two of you quickly broke eye contact and looked away, red blooming on both of your faces. The boy softly clears his throat before he looks at you again.

“Hi,” you turn your head to look at him. “My name is Sunghoon.” He smiled. He hadn’t given you his last name, which was understandable since giving away your full name to a stranger was never a good choice.

You could feel the corners of your lips begin to lift themselves into a smile and you looked at him in the eyes again this time, his eyes had another expression to it- curiosity. 

“Hi Sunghoon,” you say, breaking your eye contact before looking down at your hands, “my name is y/n.” you didn’t give him your last name either, not wanting a stranger- well, a handsome stranger to know your full name. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” 

Another wave of comfortable silence falls between the two of you. Grabbing your bag, you shuffle around inside to find your earphones before pulling them out of the bag. Plugging them into your phone you begin to play your playlist, a smile softly forming as your favorite song comes on; Spring Day.

Looking over to Sunghoon, you see that he was just staring out onto the road blankly, seeming bored. You once again poke his shoulder with your finger and you hold up the other earphone to him, silently asking him if he wants to join you in listening to music. Sunghoon looks at you before he reaches out and takes the earphone, whispering a soft thank you to you before he puts it in his ear. The soft melodies of Spring Day flow right in his ear and he smiles, realizing that his favorite song was playing. 

Sunghoon begins to hum out the melodies he was hearing out of habit before he realized you were watching him. His face flushed red once again at the thought of you watching him hum, but all you did was smile and began humming the melodies that followed. The two of you locked eyes again, smiles growing wider than before, the two of you began to relax feeling strangely comfortable in each other’s presence and you both began to hum along with Spring day that was playing in both of your ears.

As the melodies come to an end, the rain does too as the grey clouds begin to go away and the sky cleared. The two of you stood up from where you sat for the past 15 minutes (which felt way longer for the both of you) and Sunghoon returned the earphone to you before he started to take the hoodie off.

“Oh, you don’t have to return that.” You told him, and he pauses. “Your shirt underneath is probably still wet so just wear this for now, and you can return it when we meet again.” You gave him a smile. 

“We’ll meet again, right?” He smiled at you.

“Maybe.” 

“Well then,” you pick up your bag, “Until next time then, Sunghoon.” You wave at him before you walk away, towards the direction of your house. You didn’t turn your head back when you walked away, but if you did then you would’ve known that Sunghoon watched you walk away with a smile until you were out of his field of vision.

“Until next time, y/n.”

And so, when the rain stopped, the two strangers parted ways.

April 23rd, 2020.

It was raining again.

And just like before, you were sitting in the bus stop under the dry haven the roof of the stop had provided you. This time, you had a cup of hot chocolate in your hands, warming you up slightly every time you took a small sip. 

You were soaked through with rainwater- it had started raining when you were walking home, and as if it was fate, you arrived at the same bus station you met the boy- Sunghoon, last time. 

Despite having a cup of hot chocolate in your hands, your body still shivered from the cold. Your flimsy white blouse doing a horrible job of keeping you warm and covered up as the white blouse was now see-through. You hug your backpack closer to your chest in hopes of warming yourself up and keeping your chest covered from the people who were walking down the streets under their umbrellas. 

Everything was just like last time. People are running to get under cover or they are walking around in the rain unbothered. This time you don’t close your eyes. Instead, you looked around, focusing on the things you don’t really see when it wasn’t raining. 

You watched as raindrops fell onto the windowpane beside you. The droplets stick to the window slowly moving downwards towards the ground. You watched as the small streaks collided with each other and formed into bigger droplets and bigger streaks. You reach out your hand towards the rain wanting to feel the small, cold droplets on your hand.

You feel a tap on your back and you turn to see Sunghoon smiling at you. You felt as if the world was suddenly silent as you looked into his eyes.

“Hey.” He says, his voice was like that of a feather- soft and gentle and his eyes were those like a child’s, they burned you with curiosity, excitement, and amusement. 

“Hi.” You gave him a soft smile, which he returned- his eyes turning into small crescents. He holds out his hands and you look down at them.

“Here,” he hands you the hoodie you had lent him last time, “thank you again, for lending me this last time.” he smiles again, his cheeks rosy and his breath uneven. 

“You’re welcome.” you take your hoodie back from his hands, and a soft smell of citrus fills your senses. 

“I washed it since it was soaked in rainwater when I got back home, and it was the only thing I could do as a thank you for lending me this” he explained as he plopped onto the seat beside you- exactly where he sat the first time he had met you. 

You put the hoodie on quickly, trying to cover yourself up from the boy beside you. Warmth immediately floods your body and the scent of citrus was stronger now that you had the hoodie on. 

Silence fills the space between the two of you once again, and you look over to Sunghoon. He was looking down at his phone and was listening to music. You took this time to take a look at what he was wearing. This time, he had on a  pair of black ripped jeans, with a white t-shirt, and a black blazer jacket on top, with some silver jewelry to match. You accidentally make eye contact with him as you begin to lift your eyes back up from studying him. You broke eye contact and quickly looked away while a bright red began to bloom on your face.

While trying to calm your fast-beating heart, you feel a soft tap on your shoulder and you look over, only to see Sunghoon smiling at you and offering one of his earphones to you. You smiled and mumbled a small thank you when you took his earphone and the soft tempo of Where the sea sleep began playing. The two of you listen to the song in silence, being completely comfortable with each other-  despite it only being the second time you’ve met. 

As the song came to an end, you quickly glanced at Sunghoon and you decided to ask more about him.

“How-”

“How-”

The two of you stopped before you both burst into joyful laughter. The earphone that was in your ear falls out and your laughter turns into giggles as you bend down to pick them up, Sunghoon’s laughter still ringing in your ear.

“You can go first-”

“You go first-” 

Another wave of laughter hits the two of you as he gestures to you to go first. Taking small breaths, you try to calm yourself down.

“How have you been, Sunghoon?” You gave him a smile, your head tilting slightly watching him in curiosity.

“I’ve been...alright.” He returns your smile. “How about you?” You look away.

“It could be better,” you pause, “but I’ve been fine.”

Slowly, a conversation emerges between the two of you as you enjoy your time together. The music the two of you were listening to disappeared as you began to question each other about different things and got to know each other more. 

Still in your own world, the two of you don’t notice that the sky had turned slightly darker and the rain was now slowly going away. As your small conversation ended, you noticed you knew a lot more things about him- nothing too personal, but definitely some interesting things such as the fact that he was a figure skater like you, or that he had the same birthday as you- the same year as well. You find it amazing how the boy in front of you had so many things in common with you. 

Grabbing your bag, you stood up from where you sat, and you turned to face Sunghoon. 

“Well,” you began, “I guess it’s time for me to go now.” You smiled at him, and you swear you saw Sunghoon’s eyes dim a little at the thought of saying goodbye. Sunghoon gets up as well, throwing his backpack over his right shoulder. 

“It was great talking to you y/n,” you felt a small sliver make its way through your body as your name rolled off his tongue. “I hope we can do this again soon.” 

“Yeah,” you smile and he waves before he turns around walking away, in the opposite direction of where you are going to go. “Me too.” 

And so, when the rain stopped, the two newly made friends walked away.

May 5th, 2020

It’s raining, again.

Rushing to get out of the rain, you run towards the little bus station again, hoping that maybe you could see Sunghoon there later. As the bus station got in your line of sight, you could make out a figure inside the stop. You hesitated to go inside the stop as you didn’t want to bother the person inside, but the rain was getting heavier, so you stepped in.

Bunching up the ends of your skirt, you squeeze it hard trying to get your skirt to be somewhat drier. Wet strands of hair were sticking to your face, you brush your hand through them- pushing them back and showing your forehead. You wipe your face with the wet sleeve of your soaked shirt and a hand reaches out with a handkerchief from beside you and you look up at the owner at the hand.

“Use it.” It was Sunghoon. You could feel your heart start to beat faster and faster, and your whole body begins to feel hot. You smiled at him, taking the handkerchief from his hand and uses it to wipe the water from your face.

“Thank you.” You said to him, your voice being drowned out with the sound of rain falling hard to the concrete streets. Sunghoon watches as you pat away the water on your cheeks, a slow smile stretches on his face as he stares at you.

“Why are you here today?” You asked him as you put your bag down and turned towards him.

“I’m just waiting for the rain to go away, I don’t feel like getting soaked today.” his eyes turn into crescents as he gives you a small grin, a hint of mischief laced in his voice. “What about you?” 

“What you said,” You tell him as you look into his eyes. “I’m just waiting for the rain to pass.” You could feel yourself slowly get drawn deeper into his eyes as he stares at you with an emotion you can’t really decipher. 

“Well, I guess we can keep each other’s company while we wait.” You break eye contact at the sound of his voice- feeling a small sense of disappointment as you look away. “You won’t mind that would you?” 

“No, of course not.” 

The two of you exchanged questions and talked about your hobbies for hours, the rain providing you a comfortable setting with its sound and smell- which you both enjoyed. You quickly learned that you both came from rich families and that you both had a deep hatred for the way the high society had so much control over your daily lives- how you both had to put up an act every time you were in the public’s eye. The longer you had talked with Sunghoon the more you noticed different things about him- how little dimples would always show up on his cheeks when he smiled or how he was very expressive with his face, always making cute expressions when he talks about something.

Everytime Sunghoon smiled at you, you could feel your heart explode, everytime he looked at you, you could feel your ears heat up into a bright red. It felt euphoric to be able to spend time with the boy in front of you. From the first day you met him, he had piqued your interest- you wanted to know more about him, ask him why his eyes were so dull that day. But now when you look into his eyes you could see stars- it was like his eyes held the whole universe inside them. 

You knew exactly what you were feeling and you were scared. It felt dangerous to fall in love with Sunghoon. He was really no one but a stranger you had meet for a couple of times and you knew little to nothing about him- for all you know if he had could’ve been lying to you ever since you began talking.

When the rain slowly comes to a stop, so does your conversation, and once again the two of you begin to prepare to go your separate ways. Hesitating a bit, you reach out and tap his back with your phone, and he looks at your phone before he looks up at you, staring right into your eyes tilting his head as a silent question. 

“Can I…have your number?” He remains silent and still for a second before he breaks into a smile and he grabs your phone out of your hand.

“Of course,” he types in his number on your phone. “I was just about to ask.” He gives your phone back, and you take a look. He had saved himself as “Sunghoonie” with a little penguin emoji behind it making you break into a smile.

“I still have something I have to do, so I'll get going now.” Sunghoon threw his bag over his shoulder and stood up before looking at you. “ I’ll see you next time y/n. I hope you like me enough to send me a text.” He gave you another one of his blinding smiles before he turned away, walking at a quick pace, trying to get home quick as he tried to hide the huge smile that was planted on his face as well as the slight blush that creeped its way onto Sunghoon’s face.

You smiled as you watched as he walked away from where the two of you sat for the past hour and just as you were about to turn and take your leave you noticed the little black and white umbrella that was clipped onto his backpack, the smile on your face growing impossibly bigger as you slowly walked away while the sun behind the grey clouds showed itself once again. Your steps were a little faster than usual, wanting to get back to the house you never called home so that you could text the boy you had just talked to, excitement blooming inside of your stomach and you could only hope that your mom would ignore you instead of yelling at you today.

And so, when the rain stopped, the two red faced teenagers parted ways. 

“But mother I don’t want to go the party-“

Before you could finish your words your head was flung to the side, a big red mark started to form on the left side of your face, crystal tears started to form in your eyes.

“It’s the only thing you can do for me and your father after all the things we had to do to raise you up.” She wiped her hands on a white handkerchief before she discarded it in the garbage, “So just do what we are telling you to do like a good daughter- and don’t you dare embarrass us in front of our partners, like how you did last time when you lost in that figure skating competition to the son of Park Jaehwan.” 

Your mother snickers at the name, before she looks you in the eyes again. “Do you know how embarrassing it was for us to know that you lost to his son? He was so cocky about it too, always bringing it up everytime we met. Don’t embarrass us again y/n. You know what happens if you do.” She glares at you as a warning one more time before she makes her way up into her study leaving you alone in the living room to cry your heart out at her words.

Your maids (who you see as sisters instead) rush to help you get into your room to get you ready. The oldest and closest to you- Yeji tries to comfort you the best she could as she wipes your tears away. 

“Please stop crying y/n, you're going to mess up your pretty eyes.” She signals the other girls to start preparing you. “I know how much you hate this but we have to do this.” You look at her with sad eyes, ones that have seen and been through too many things. Different girls held different things in their hands, one bunch had hair brushes and hair ties in their hands while another bunch had different makeup in their hands. 2 of the girls came up to you as Yeji continued to whisper encouraging comments at you, in their hands was a beautiful white dress- one that would make anyone that’s wore it look like an angel. It wasn’t a very long dress as it only went down to your knee- it was an off-shoulder lace dress with tiny diamonds lined up at the shoulder seam, it was easily one of the most beautiful dresses you’ve seen. 

Pushing you into the washroom that was in your room, they all leave you to change into the dress. You put it on gently, afraid that it would rip and you looked into the mirror when you were done.

Oh my god.

You thought as you spun around, watching as the soft silky fabric fluttered in the air. You were in awe at how the dress fitted you perfectly, how it made you look so beautiful- how it made you feel beautiful. A knock on the door disrupts your thoughts as you hear Yeji asking you if you were done and that you needed to get your hair and makeup done.

You open the bathroom door and you watch as all of the maids’ mouths drop open in shock. You let out a cute giggle as they start to snap out of their shock and they began to run around the room like headless chickens trying to get you to look even more beautiful then you are now. Skillful hands were everywhere touching nearly everything, there were hands on your face, fingers in your hair, and you were pretty sure at one point someone’s hand was on your feet putting your shoes on for you but you couldn’t tell.

Once they were done, they had stood you in front of a mirror once again. And if you thought you had looked your best before- you were wrong. Now standing in front of the mirror with your hair done and simple but elegant makeup on your face, you looked like a goddess. The small diamond earrings that were dangling on your ears complemented the diamonds on your dress and the white stiletto heels complimenting your white dress. 

Without hearing your mother knock, she slams the door open before she begins to drag you out and rant about being ‘fashionably late’ before you had a chance to say thank you to your maids- so you mouthed it to them and flashed a quick smile before being pushed out of the front door. And into a car that was too expensive to your taste.

It was so boring.

There was nothing to do, and no one to talk to. Everyone that was in the room were adults that were just looking to show off their wealth and power or adults that were looking for new business partners- there was no place for a teenager like you. You were placed next to your mother who was talking to one of her business partners who also had their son standing next to them. 

“Hey y/n.” You look over to the voice, “how have you been?” It was the boy that stood beside the man who was talking to your mother. 

“Hey Jay,” You lifted your glass of apple juice to him, which he cheered his cup with yours before he downed the whole thing. “I’ve been good, you?” He takes a look at you again before he places his now empty cup on a platter of a nearby servant.

“I’ve been good too.” A small talk begins between the two of you before you are both interrupted by another boy.

“You should really smile y/n, you look like you’d rather die than to be here.” You turn around to the voice only to see Lee Heeseung, another close friend of yours and Jay “Hey Jay.” He says to his cousin before they do their little handshake.

“Shut up Hee, you know how much I hate being in these parties.” The named boy lets out a small chuckle before he pats your shoulder in a teasing manner.

Slowly, as the three of you quietly talk in your own little circle, more and more teenagers joined you- some boys named Sunoo, Jungwon, and Riki along with a girl named Ryujin.

The topics the seven of you talked about flew around everywhere, quickly changing as a person talked about something else that interested the rest of the six. Suddenly, a loud sound came out of nowhere as a rainstorm slowly brewed outside the window. Everyone inside the beautifully decorated ballroom paid no attention to the weather outside as they continued to dance and chat inside the dry, brightly lit golden room. 

You stared outside into the rain a little longer than everyone else, your mind wandering off to the boy named Sunghoon. You wondered if he was thinking about you right now- if he wanted to meet you again. 

Feeling a light tug on your dress, you look away from the world outside to Ryujin who was looking at someone in the crowd. She inches a little closer to you before bringing her mouth near your ear.

“Someone’s been staring at you for a while now,” she pauses, looking back to the crowd again. “I don’t know if you know him or something, but he doesn’t seem to hold any hostility to you from what I see.” Her eyes searched the crowd before quickly pointing to the two boys that were talking near the wall opposite to your group.

You recognized the boy in the navy blue suit right away- it was Jake Shim, a distant cousin of Jay. The two of you never talked much but the two of you still considered each other friends. You squint a little at the second boy who's back faced you, the boy wore a white suit and he had black hair that was slightly slicked back.

Your eyes widened as the two of you made eye contact, and you suddenly felt as if everyone else in the room had disappeared leaving only you and Sunghoon in the room. Sunghoon’s face matches yours as his eyes widen slightly and his mouth opens to let out a small gasp of surprise. 

You were so caught up in surprise at the sight of Sunghoon that you didn’t notice Jake waving excitedly at his cousin and had begun dragging Sunghoon to your group. You snap out of your surprise as Jake waves his hand in front of your face in excitement before saying his greetings.

“Hey y/n! It’s nice to see you again!” He smiled at you and you were flustered at his puppy-like personality. He points to Sunghoon as he begins introducing the two of you. “This is Park Sunghoon, he’s my best friend in high society! If I remembered correctly, you skate right? Sunghoon here also skates a lot, maybe you guys can be friends or something!” You stared at Sunghoon for a few seconds before you tore your eyes from him to look at Jake who seemed like an excited puppy waiting for your compliments. 

“Hi Sunghoon, it’s nice to meet you.” You gave Sunghoon a tight lipped smile- one that never reached your eyes. 

“Hello, y/n. I’ve heard a lot about you.” He also smiles, but it was one that looked forced- unlike all of the ones you’ve seen on his lips when you talked at the bus station. Jake leaves the two of you to greet his cousin and the rest of your friends. The two of you were quiet, not knowing what to say to each other in a situation like this. 

“So-“

“How-“

The two of you pause for a second before laughter bloomed between the two of you, finding his situation familiar. Sunghoon gestures to you to go first as the laughter begins to quiet down.

“So...how have you been?” You asked him quietly as the atmosphere around the two of you began to feel awkward once again. It’s been over a week since you’ve seen Sunghoon and seeing him here was surprising as you didn’t expect to see him again. 

“I’ve been good,” he sighed, “I didn’t really want to come but now I’m glad I did since I got to see you.” He smiles again- this time, it was genuine and his big eyes turned into little crescents. Out of nowhere, he suddenly grabs your hand before he drags you to a balcony door, he pushes you inside and closes the door when he gets inside himself. 

The balconie was quite spacious and it had a roof so the rain didn’t get to the two of you. The two of you stand next to each other in silence as the rain once again accompanied the two of you, silently helping the two of you get comfortable with it’s sounds of raindrops falling to the ground.

“You look beautiful today.” Sunghoon breaks the silence between the two of you as he stared into the rain, thanking god in his head that it was already dark outside so that you couldn’t see the deep blush that was painted on his face. 

Under the dim light the moon provides the two of you with, you finally took your time to study Sunghoon. Today, he was wearing a white silk suit, his silky black hair was slick back and his plump lips looked as if they were painted with a slight red tint- making his face look even more attractive (if that was even possible).

“Thank you,” you were glad that your maids had used foundation on your face today to cover up the nasty mark your mother had given to you otherwise, Sunghoon would definitely see the red blush that crept onto your cheeks. “You look handsome today too,” You giggled as you looked down at your own outfit. “We match.” 

He looks at your outfit, staring at you with his big eyes before he looks down on his own clothes.

“We are,” he laughs as he looks back up at you. “What a coincidence.” Silence befalls the two of you once again and the rainstorm starts to slow down as you stare at each other in silence. It felt as if there were only the two of you left on the balcony and you wanted the time to stop right at this moment. You both stared at each other in silence, forgetting about everyone that was in the room behind the closed door. Just as you were about to open your mouth to talk to him, the balcony door suddenly busted open, and there stood your mother- her face was red in you didn’t know if it was embarrassment or anger and her biggest rival, Park Jaehwan standing right behind her, staring at the boy next to you in disappointment.

“What are you doing with that boy y/n.” She states rather than ask, “get over here. Now.” You don’t move, wondering why she was so angry at the moment. 

Instead of waiting for you to move, your mother walks over to you instead and wraps her hand around your forearm, her grip was tight and her nails dogged into your skin. The man behind her calmly walks to Sunghoon before he pats him on the shoulders. 

“Dad.” You turn your head in surprise and your eyes grow big.

Dad?

Sunghoon is Park Jaehwan’s son?

“What were you doing with Min Soonyeon’s daughter here?” He questions Sunghoon as he burns holes onto your skin with his stares.

“We were just…” He makes eye contact with you and you can see the gears in his head turning to come up with a lie.

“We-“

“We were just getting to know each other.” You cut through what Sunghoon was about to say and the older man glares at you while your mother’s grip on your hand tightens around your arm.

“I did not ask you girl, I asked my son here.” He tells you, his tone hostile and he turns his glare from you to your mother then back to you again. “Don’t answer what was not asked of you, it’s basic manners- but I don’t blame you, being the daughter of Soonyeon it was expected you won’t know such a thing.” 

Your mother scoffs as she pulls on your arm and hides your body with hers before she glares at the older man.

“I don’t think you should say that Jaehwan, seeing that your son couldn’t even answer a simple question.” Your mother glances at Sunghoon who was silently just staring at you before she turned her eyes back onto Jaehwan. “I can see that he got that from you Jaehwan. I must say however, he’s definitely a better man than you- at least he isn’t cocky over the stupidest things like you.” She hisses before she turns on her heels, dragging you by your arm to the balcony door.

“Let’s go y/n, we don’t want to continue to talk to these unruly men.” You look back just as you cross the door to see Sunghoon staring at you with sad eyes and he mouths a small ‘sorry’ to you. 

“It’s alright, I’m sorry about my mother.” You mouthed to him just before he disappears from your line of sight as your mother drags you out the front lobby and into your car. 

You can tell that your mother was filled to the brim with anger and you chose to shut your mouth in order to not anger her more. A small ‘ding’ comes from your phone and you bring it up to your face to check.

Sunghoon 🐧: I’m so sorry about that y/n. What my dad said to you was rude and I’m sorry you had to hear that.

You smile at the name. You bring your hand up to your phone as you begin to type your reply.

You: It’s really nothing Sunghoon, trust me, I’ve heard worse. I’m sorry about my mother, she really doesn’t have a filter for anyone. I hope you weren’t offended by that.

Sunghoon 🐧: It’s fine y/n. Really 😄 You looked really beautiful tonight y/n, I don’t remember if I’ve told you that and even if I did, I’ll say it again- you looked amazing tonight.  It was great talking to you tonight, I had fun. 😁 I have to go now, but it was really nice seeing you tonight. 

You: Thank you Sunghoon, you looked handsome as well, I almost thought you were a prince from a fairytale 😉 But it was great talking to you again, I really didn’t expect to see you at the party but I’m glad I did. Goodnight Sunghoon, sweet dreams.

You closed your phone as you stared outside to the passing buildings, watching as the rain finally stops . Your head spinning with joy and your face flushed with bright red, and a huge smile decorated your face.

What you didn’t know however was that Sunghoon on the other side of the phone was just like you- his face was red and a smile decorated his face as he talked with your friends who were still at the party, the image of you smiling in the dress you wore never leaving his mind. 

And so, when the rain stopped, the two lovestruck teenagers parted ways.

It’s been weeks since you’ve seen Sunghoon at the party, and since then the both of you have been texting non-stop over the phone. Every little thing in your everyday life was shared with Sunghoon- how your lunch had tasted that day, or how a boy spilt some coffee on you by accident, and even you helping a elderly lady across the streets, Sunghoon listened on and on- never cutting you off. He just listens quietly to you as you happily tell him everything, smiling as he realizes how happy you were that day, or he would have a frown stretched on his face in worry as he listens to you.

Sunghoon was a simple man. 

He never said much even when the two of you got closer together. He never shared much about his life like you did. He always just smiled and said a simple “It was alright” when you’d ask him about his day, or he would shake his head in denial when you’d ask him if there was something bothering him. Soon you had realized that that was just how Sunghoon is- simple, quiet.

A silent promise was made between the two of you when you had met for the fifth time under the same bus stop you and him met nearly half a year ago. It was raining- again, that day when the two of you saw each other after texting for so long without seeing each other. 

It was just like the first time you met him- he was soaked from head to toe in rainwater and you just so happened to have a spare hoodie inside your backpack. It was like meeting him for the first time all over again, but this time, a new feeling bloomed inside both of your young hearts- burning with heavy passion and love. It was so painfully obvious to the both of you what that feeling was- love.

From that day on, you both would always find yourself going to the bus station whenever it rained- it didn’t matter if you guys were doing anything, you just knew that you wanted to see each other again. 

So you go. To the same damn place that you both loved so much.

And he would always be there. Every. Single. Time. And so would you. The rainstorm never stopped either of you from going with it’s rain water, it never mattered if you were soaked in rain or that you’d get sick the next day- all you cared for at that exact moment was Sunghoon. 

The boy you fell in love with.

The quiet, gentle, and loving boy that you meet on this one rainy day by chance.

Every time it rained, the two of you would talk hours on hours about anything and everything. He would hold your hand in his larger, warmer ones, rubbing his long, thin fingers across the back of your hand in a soft, loving manner and you would lay your head on his shoulders- taking in his soft citrus scent that you grew to love so much that you searched through the entire city of Seoul to find one that only came close to the one he used. 

It always felt as if the two of you were the only ones in the world when the rain fell. You felt euphoric when you would hug inside your small world under the roof of the bus stop, and he would tell you how much he loved you. 

It might have been fast to other people, but to the two of you- it felt as if it was natural. The love you had for each other felt so strong, so obvious that even without words, passerbys could tell how much the two of you loved each other. 

But every time when the rain stopped, the two of you parted ways. As if everything was normal, as if you never knew him more than Park Sunghoon, the son of Park Jaehwan’s son, your biggest competitor in the ice skating world, and the son of your mother’s biggest rival- as if you never spilled “I love you''s to each other.

When the rain stops, so does your heart. It stops beating for anything else in the world and when the rain falls, your heart beats again- in a fast, rapid pace that you’ve never felt before unless you were with Sunghoon. 

The rain was your safe haven- for it always meant you could meet Sunghoon again. That you can run without care in the world right into the safety of his arms, and that you could stay there until the rain stops again. 

It was clear to you at this point that there was no pulling back. You were in love with the rain as well as the boy in front of you- Park Sunghoon- and there was no way you could ever stop.

Your head twists to the side as a loud slap echoed around the house you never called home. The bright, glowing red mark on your cheek stinging as you see your mother glaring at you with hatred in the corner of your eyes. You notice your dad just sitting on the couch reading his newspaper as if the scene happening in front of him didn’t;t happen at all.

“HOW DARE YOU!” Your mother screamed at you while holding your phone in her hands, your texts with Sunghoon over the years clear to everyone who walks by. “YOU’VE BEEN TALKING TO PARK JAEHWAN'S SON FOR NEARLY A YEAR BEHIND OUR BACKS?!” She screams again, her hand raised and flies down to meet your cheeks with a hard slap, turning your head to the other side.

You don’t dare look at her, too afraid to see what she looked like right now. Your mother had found out about you texting with Sunghoon when she had looked over your shoulder when you were texting him and now here she is- your phone in her death grip and she stared at you with pure hatred in her eyes.

All of the workers in the house silently watched as your mother screamed at you, too afraid of what she might do to them if they spoke up.

You tune out all of the remarks your mother was making at you and you dip your head down, staring at the pair of sneakers Sunghoon bought for you when he saw your soaked shoes one day. Since then, the both of you always exchanged little gifts with each other. And soon enough, the two of you confirmed your feelings with each other.

Although neither of you ever vocally confirmed but it was as clear as the day that you were in love and in a relationship- with all the sweet, flirty talks (that you never knew he could say) from him and all of the actions from you, the two of you made a perfect couple in other’s eyes.

But when your mother found out, she was furious- no. The word furious couldn’t even compare to what she is right now. Her face was red in anger and you could practically see smoke coming out of her nose and ears. Her eyes glared at you as if you were never her daughter and her teeth grinder against each other so hard that you were (slightly, but not really) worried that they might fall out. 

“SPEAK! YOU ARE NOT DEAF NOR ARE YOU MUTE. TALK! WHY WERE YOU TALKING TO PARK SUNGHOON?”

You didn’t answer. Knowing you’ll only get even more scolding.

Another slap was delivered to your face when you didn’t answer. This time, the slap was so hard against your head, you could feel your ears ring and your vision turned a bit blurry.

Your father must have seen you look hazy as he finally stood up from his seat on the couch and stopped your mother from slapping you again.

“Stop it now Soonyeon. That’s enough. Y/n go to your room, now. You’re not going to get any food for tonight as a punishment, and if I find any of you giving y/n food,” he pointed towards the maids, “then you will also serve a punishment.” Your father looked at you one more time as you stared at the floor, his stares burning into your skull.

He sighs, “I’m very disappointed in you y/n.” Crack. “Why can’t you just listen to us once and behave?” Crack. “Just…get out of my sight and go to your room. You need to reflect on what you’ve done.” Crack. “And you won’t be getting your phone back until you realize that you need to break up with that…that boy.” And just like that, your father breaks your heart and leaves with your mother towards his office, leaving you alone in the living room.

All of the workers that were just watching rushes up to you to check up and help you. Asking you left and right about how you were feeling, if you needed ice or face cream for your cheeks. You ignore all of them and head right into your room, closing your door loudly, surprising everyone who was in the house.

Tears formed in your eyes as you thought about what your father said. About how he was disappointed in you and that you never behaved the way they wanted you to- even though all you ever did growing up was doing everything they ask (or rather ordered) you to do, wishing for nothing more than a single compliment from them or maybe a single hug from them.

But as you began to grow up, you realized how those things that was normal to everyone else were something impossible for you to get. Your parents only ever cared about their business and their status. Never did they really care about you or your happiness. If they really did, then they would have noticed how happy you sounded when you were texting Sunghoon, or how you were getting happier day by day when you were with Sunghoon- but ah, of course they didn’t. They don’t even care anyways.

Grabbing your old phone from your bedside cabinet, you text Sunghoon with your old number (which he saved for emergencies like these!).

You: Hey Sunghoon, let’s meet up later tonight.

Sunghoonie💞: sure, but are you okay? Why are you texting like that? Is something bothering you?

You smile, feeling giddy to know that Sunghoon could notice these little things about you, but your smile drops as you realize what you needed to tell him later.

You: Um, yeah. I need to tell you something, and I’d rather tell you in person…

Sunghoonie💞: Of course, anything for you. Same place at same time?

You: yeah, like always.

Sunghoonie💞: alright, remember to bring an umbrella tonight, the forecast said it might rain tonight. I love you ❤️

Your heart skips a beat.

You: Thanks Hoonie, you too. I love you too ❤️

You put down your phone and you let out a big sigh. Why did the world hate you so much?

You wait in the bus stop with two cups of hot coffee in your hands. 

And somehow, although it was in the middle of winter right now, it was still raining. 

You sit under the dimly lit bus station as you wait for Sunghoon to show up. The sky was dark, and the streets were empty and silent. You watched silently as the raindrops fell to the ground in front of you, as you waited, and waited, and waited…but he didn't show up.

It’s been hours since the promised time, and yet he hasn’t shown up. You put down the now cold cups of coffee to check your phone to see if you had missed a message from him or something- but there was nothing. He hasn’t even read your latest message that was sent two hours ago. 

Feeling discouraged and cold, you throw the two cold cups of coffee in the nearest trash can as an ambulance speed passes you, in a rush to get to the hospital as fast as they could. Somehow, your heart felt heavy at that moment, as if it was telling you- warning you about something, but you ignored it and started to make your way home.

The rain never stopped. It didn’t stop when you sneaked out the door of your house, it didn’t stop when you got to the station, and it didn’t stop when you were waiting- fuck, it’s still raining now as you walked back home under the same umbrella Sunghoon carried that one day you guys met. The same one that was black and white, the same one that Sunghoon hid behind his backpack when he met you for the third time under the same bus station you were just at. 

As you walked your mind kept going over all of the possibilities of why Sunghoon didn’t come. Maybe he was caught by his parents? Or maybe he had something to do last minute? 

You walked slowly through the dimly lit streets, your head in the clouds but you never noticed the two shadows that were slowly creeping up behind you. 

Before you could even scream, your mouth was covered by a large dirty hand and before you could even process what was happening, you were dragged into a dark alleyway, leaving your (or Sunghoon’s) umbrella on the ground. 

“Give us everything on you. Right now.” A hoarse voice calls out beside you and a cold, sharp object pricks your side. Tears rush to your eyes as you begin to shake- terrified for your life, but you don’t move, cold rain drops making your clothes and hair wet.

“I said give me everything on you right. Now!” The man in front of you whisper-yelled, afraid of waking up the neighborhood if he was too loud.

You don’t move, still frozen in fear but a quick, hard slap to your face snaps you out of it.

I don’t wanna die.

You think to yourself. 

I still have so many things I want to do. I don’t wanna die. 

With a shaky hand, you begin to remove all of the jewelry on you- the earrings you got from your parents when you reached adulthood and the ring you had gotten from your grandmother. You remove your purse from your shoulder before you handed everything to the two thieves. 

“Please-please just let me go now, I pro-promise I won’t tell anyone!” Your words shuddered over one another and your voice was shaky, anyone could tell that you were absolutely terrified right now, but the two don’t move.

“We want that too.” The man beside you tells you and he reaches out to touch the necklace on your neck. You shrink yourself away from him, terrified of what he was going to do.

“No! You-you can’t take this! Anything but this!” You yelled at them before they slapped you again making you quickly slap your mouth. 

“Shut up you bitch! Do you want to die? Now give us that necklace!” The man in front of you yells while he tries to take the necklace of you himself.

“No!” You try to get away from the man’s hold. 

The necklace was something you can not ever give away. It was the first ever gift you had received from Sunghoon, and you didn’t want to ever give it to the filthy criminals that were in front of you.

“Ugh, you bitch! Just give it to us and we’ll leave you alone!” The man beside you tells you as he also joins in the small fight between the man and you for your necklace.

A sudden strike of pain hits you on the side and everything stops.

Slowly, you lose the energy to stand up on your own and you drop down to the floor, a warm, wet substance soaking the back of your shirt, the salty drops of rain hitting your face directly. The two men quickly run away, grabbing all the stuff that you had previously given them when they hear a man shout at the beginning of the alleyway., but not bothering to take your necklace anymore.

Everything felt hazy now, and you couldn’t see anything with your vision bury and black spots filling your vision. You could hear a muffled voice of a man calling for help from you don’t know who, but you could feel your body getting lighter and lighter. The calming sensation of laying on the ground and the cold rain hitting your warm body takes over, and you close your eyes. 

Am I dying?

Who are you kidding, of course you were. There was no way you weren’t. A stinging pain was pounding against your left side where one of the men had a knife against you, and it doesn't take a genius to know what happened- even if you were starting to feel more and more sleepy.

Knowing yourself that you’ve already bled too much and that there was no saving you anymore, you let your mind rest and just think about all of the happy things you’ve been through in life- but there were no signs of your parents.

Instead, all you could see when you closed your eyes was the face of your lover. The very man that your parents wanted you to stay away from- the very man you were going to break up with tonight. The man you loved with your whole heart- Park Sunghoon.

His smile, his laugh, all of his small habits, all of the time the two of you skated together, and all of the time you talked under the bus station flew through your mind like a record. All of the happy memories in your too short of a lifetime plays in the matter of a few minutes inside your head, and you do nothing else other than smile when you feel hands over your body, placing you on a soft bed and into an ambulance.

I love you.

You think as tears slowly seeps through the corner of your eyes.

I love you Sunghoon. 

His face shows up inside your head again.

Thank you for loving me.

Your hand drops.

And the rain stopped.

Your parents run into the emergency room frantically, both of their hearts heavy with both guilt and worry.

“How is she Doctor?! She’s okay right?” Your mother asks ina. Hurry, not even caring about her image anymore, tears gathered in her eyes as she held onto your father’s arms for support. Your father’s face was void of any emotions but his eyes betrayed him with them over spilling with worry.

Your doctor shakes his head.

“I’m so sorry but the patient had already died when she was on her way to the hospital. I couldn’t do anything for her any more. I’m sorry for your loss. Y/n l/n, time of death; December 8th, 00:13am.” He explains before bowing his head and leaving.

Your mother breaks down in tears as she drops down to the floor, guilt filling her entire body.

If only she didn’t yell at you. 

If only she didn’t tell you that you were a disappointment.

If only she didn’t tell you to break up with Sunghoon.

If only she told you she loved you.

Your father stands still as a tear finally runs down one of his eyes. All of the memories of you played over and over again in his mind, from when he first held you in his arms the time when you said your first words, you walking by yourself for the first time, and all of the other things he wished he treasured more when he still had time.

The two of them walked out the door to the emergency room as your body was rolled out with a white blanket on your face by the nurses. Your mother cried even more seeing your body, knowing that everything that happened to you was mostly her fault.

Not far from where your parents stood, another pair of grieving parents were crying over their now dead child. 

“This is all your fault!” The woman screamed at her husband. “If you never yelled at him or tried to control him he would’ve never been there!”

The woman breaks down again, as her husband looks down in shame, guilt, and sadness. His only child, his only son was now dead because he tried to make him break up with his beloved. 

Sunghoon was now dead because of him.

If only he didn’t yell Sunghoon earlier, then he wouldn’t have tried to meet up with y/n. If he didn’t try to meet with y/n, then he never would’ve died.

Then he would never have been hit by a car. 

Maybe it was all because of the two family’s selfishness that led to their only child’s death or perhaps this is just how their story was about to end. 

The boy who tried to get to the girl he loved in order to satisfy his father by breaking her heart and the girl who tried to meet with the boy she loved to break his heart. In order to be the good girl her family wanted her to be. 

Perhaps it was fate that they both died trying to meet, or maybe they were just never meant to be together and the stars decided to punish them. 

How ironic was it that they had both got into an accident near each other, and died on their birthday at the same time? 

How ironic that it was their love that led to their own deaths? 

How ironic was it, that when the two died, the rain finally stopped?

Mayhaps this was their fate, to fall in love and die. Or maybe, this was all just some kind of sick joke that god played.

Either way, when the rain stopped, two young lovers parted ways. Even death itself could not keep them away. 

Hopefully, through their deaths they can finally find their own happiness.

When the rain stops, two lovers parted ways, both of them on their way to meet each other once again at the gates of heaven.

@ junjungsunwoo, all rights reserved. 

[fairyoftbz]

a day at the beach | l. juyeon

🌊 pairing: juyeon x fem!reader 🌊 word count: 4k 🌊 genre: fluff, a lot of awkward flirting, kind of friends-to-lovers 🌊 tw: none, mention of the ocean and going underwater(?) 🌊 synopsis: you spend a day at the beach with your friends and it leads to something new. 🌊 a/n: my second and last work of the summer collab hosted by the lovely @bangchan-fairy ✿ i had a lot of fun writing it and I hope it'll be enough!

╰☆☆☆☆╮

You had forgotten how tiring it was to spend a day at the beach. Soaking and sweating under the sun, running around in the sand and play at different games in the water that have you tired at the end of the afternoon, but it was a good type of exhaustion. It’s the type of feeling where you could fall asleep at any moment, but you wouldn’t mind keep on playing and laughing either.

Laying on your stomach on your towel, you enjoyed the warm rays of sunshine drying the salty water on your skin. Hair was all over the place as you tried to tie it back to prevent it from going everywhere, but it was to no avail, so you gave up and stood up. Ruffling your hair to get rid of the sand trapped in it, you managed to tie it away from your face and neck, finally sighing in content as you could feel the wind caress the skin in the base of your exposed, sweaty neck.

The majority of your friends was still playing in the water, but you still had Kevin, Chanhee and Jacob resting on their respective towel. The eldest was peacefully holding a book, his free hand mindlessly caressing his stomach as his eyes followed along with the story with entertainment. You smiled at Chanhee when a familiar TikTok song erupted from his portable speaker, the action waking Kevin up as he was right next to him.

A few of your friends gestured you to join them in the water, but they all got negative answers. Hyunjae and Eric almost begged you to come, making big arm movements and yelling a bunch of begs until you finally gave in, earning cheers from your friends. You carefully jogged to the cooler, wet sand after tossing your cap and sunglasses on your towel. You let out a shriek when the water touched your feet, all your muscles contracting as your friends laughed at your shocked state.

“It’s so cold, what the hell!” you yelled as a small wave came and crashed onto your calves, sending goosebumps in your entire body as you expected the ocean to be a bit warmer, but kept going anyway. “Come on, Y/N, you can do it!” Juyeon yelled from where he was, dozens of meters away from the shore. Clutching your jaw, you progressively made your way into the water, smiling when the boys cheered again when you dove underwater. It was fresh, almost cold, but it felt uplifting, and most importantly, fun.

Once you reappeared at the surface, the boys were surrounding you and you laid on your back, feet hitting the water hard to splash them. A water fight broke out, and you sunk underwater to escape for a few seconds all the splashing and screaming from your friends.

It was your turn to scream underwater and resurface as soon as possible when two hands landed on your waist, softly gripping the flesh of your hips. You sharply turned around, only to find Juyeon laughing at your frightened face.

“Please never do that again,” you said half-laughing, half recovering from his malicious joke, some flashbacks of Jaws coming back into your mind for an instant. Pushing his gear down, mask and snorkel dangled around his neck, long black fins in hand, he stood next to you, breathing heavily as droplets of water fell on his face.

“Did you see something cool?” he nodded at your question, showing you the net bag attached to his wrist. He found a few colourful rocks, some trash, a few coins and two shells, one catching your eye.

“This one looks really pretty,” you pointed at the said shell, only to have Juyeon nearing his hand to yours. “Take it,” he mumbled, and you glanced at him, refusing with a gentle smile. “No, no, keep it,” you answered, and it was his turn to shake his head.

As your friend didn’t retract his hand and kept looking at you, you shyly took the shell in your hand and thanked him, gaining a smile from him before he got out of the water. Younghoon suddenly shrieked and whined when he felt some seaweed brushing his ankle, making everyone laugh, including you. Some of the other tourists were looking at your group from the side, not enjoying how loud you were becoming. You quickly noticed and quieted them, vaguely motioning to the elderly couple on the beach that was meaningly watching you.

“Are you already getting out of the water? It has only been a quick minute,” Eric asked as you walked closer to the shore, the waves almost making you lose your balance. “I’m coming right back, I’m just thirsty,” you claimed and ran back to your towel, feet burning under the scorching sand.

“Ah, Y/N! You’re here. The water is beautiful, and I’m trying to persuade the boys to come and snorkelling with me. Do you want to tag along?” “Okay, sure? Who’s coming?” you said, looking at the other boys on the beach as you grabbed a bottle of water from the cooler next to Jacob, who put the lid back on as soon as you were done. “The two of you,” Kevin smirked, his annoying, playful tone made you roll your eyes, Juyeon paying absolutely no mind to his comment. “Fine, let’s go,” you said before seizing the mask and snorkel Juyeon was handing you and you both ran back into the water.

“They’re cute,” Jacob mumbled, hand supporting his head as he went back to reading, the two other boys approving his words.

As you quickly tried to put on everything to catch up with Juyeon, he saw you struggling to put on your fins, so he gently grabbed your ankle to bring it closer to the surface. You quickly held onto his shoulder, your proximity with the young man making the other boys coo and gag. Almost hissing at them, you offered them a death glare while Juyeon simply smiled to himself, not paying attention to a single of their comments as he focused on securely tying your fins around your heels.

“Are we good to go?” he asked, and you signed ‘ok’ with your thumb and index finger before placing your head underwater.

You stayed near Juyeon, making sure to heavily splash your friends as you swam away from the coast. Feeling satisfied as you heard them complain. The water was getting progressively colder, feeling goosebumps rise on your skin, but the view was worth the chills. Your eyes trailed everywhere around you in the sand, in search of any kind of source of life through the translucid water.

Juyeon suddenly pointed at the ground, discerning a hermit crab making his way to a safer place, deeper in the sand. You smiled at the sight of the small creature, following its movements before watching disappear under the sand.

Your eyes widened in your mask when you saw Juyeon dive, bubbles coming out of his snorkel. He rummaged through the sand for a few seconds, before going straight back to the surface. You got your head out of the water, watching your friend blow the water out of his snorkel just like a whale. He held another shell, similar to the one he gave you.

“How do you notice those? I barely even noticed the hermit crab you pointed at,” Juyeon smiled as he spat some salty water out of his mouth, wiping it with the back of his hand.

“I remembered the spot I searched before coming back to you and the boys. I think it’s a good one, there’s a lot of beautiful things to look at,” he explained, and you nodded, waving at the boys on the beach with a smile. “Look, now we’re matching,” he said as he showed you his shell, a happy look on your face. “Keep it in a safe place,” you suggested while giggling, and he nodded, putting it in his bathing suit pocket before diving back to his searches.

For the remaining hours of the afternoon, you snorkelled with your friend, making beautiful discoveries all around the shore, such as another hermit crab. You gently picked it up from the shell and let it float around for a while, observing its behaviour as Juyeon dove even deeper. You had struggled to pick up the hermit crab because the sand looked way closer than it actually was, and the sensation of the salty water filling in your snorkel to the brim wasn’t the best feeling ever. When you reappeared at the surface, you expulsed all the water from the snorkel and stayed still for a while, moving your fins to keep your head above the water level, your body slowly following the waves.

You were amazed by how the ocean flora and fauna was beautifully hidden from the rest of the world. Letting yourself slowly sink deeper, the water pressure tightening around you, water filling your snorkel in big bubbles, but you didn’t pay much attention. Some small fish swam around you, speeding when you reached out a hand in an attempt to grab or touch them. Being underwater felt good and somewhat reassuring, the noises from outside were muffled by the thick layers of water surrounding you. It was as if you were receiving a big, reassuring hug from nature and nothing could actually happen to you.

As your lungs started running out of air, you felt a presence behind you, only to discover Juyeon observing you. Inside his goggles, you could see his worried eyes and furrowed brows, so you hastened to reassure him about your safety by signalling it with your fingers. He motioned you to go back up to the surface, and you followed him, slowly ascending face to face, his eyes never leaving yours as you stayed close to the other.

You let out a big sigh as you took off your snorkelling equipment, feeling suddenly heavy and tired. A hand running on your skin, you gently wet it to get rid of the marks that lingered on your face due to the tightness of the mask, smiling at your friend as he did the same, throwing his head back to replace his hair correctly.

“What were you doing down there? You got me scared, you weren’t moving. I thought something happened to you,” Juyeon asked as you slowly moved into the water and started getting closer to the shore, feeling the water getting progressively warmer. “I’ve always wanted to stay still in the ocean for a moment, and it felt super good,” you explained a bit out of breath as you were swimming, Juyeon touching the ground before you so he started walking, his flexed muscles tiredly moving as the waves pushed you two closer to the shore.

Almost all your friends were gone, only Jacob and Sangyeon waving at you from their spot on their chairs, just like two parents waiting for their kids to be tired and sleepy. You nearly fell over as you struggled to walk on the sand to get back to your friends, who were watching you out of the corner of the eye. Juyeon walked at your pace and rid you of your equipment when you joined your friends.

“Did you have fun together?” Jacob asked with a smile, hair slightly messy and dried because of the salt.

You tiredly nodded as Juyeon explained where you went and what you saw, still standing up with his hands on his hips as he sometimes pointed towards the ocean. Sangyeon smirked as he caught your eyes lingering on Juyeon's healthy body while listening to him, earning an elbow hit from you as you sat next to him, thanking him with a smile as he passed you your towel.

“I didn’t expect this to be this tiring, but it was a nice experience,” you admitted, and your friends laughed, a genuine smile appearing on Juyeon’s face. “You spent almost the entire day in the water, it’s normal to be tired,” Jacob said in his usual reassuring voice, handing you your bottle of water from the cooler. “Where did the other boys go?” Juyeon asked as he looked around, trying to see if they were any closer or hiding. “They left a moment ago, they wanted to freshen up before dinner.”

“Yeah, we ordered pizza for everyone,” Sangyeon explained and you two nodded, your stomach grumbling at the mention of one of your favourite foods. “Don’t worry, we got you your favourite,” Jacob giggled as Juyeon was about to open his mouth, only to make you all laugh and smile at how predictable he was. “Thank you,” you said in unison and Jacob sent you a playful wink, taking off his sunglasses as the sun wasn’t as bright as before. Sangyeon sighed while he started picking up his belongings, Jacob imitating him.

“Are you two coming?” Jacob asked and you looked at Juyeon, who was already looking at you with his eyebrows raised, waiting for your answer. “I just want to go one more time in the water before going back to the hotel if you don’t mind,” you said as you stood up, placing your towel on your chair. “Yeah, me too,” Juyeon said, and you turned around, just catching a glimpse of an understood look between Sangyeon and Jacob, the two boys smirking at each other.

You frowned for a second but paid no mind, ignoring them as you walked back to the waterside. The salty foam came crashing on your feet and ankles as you jogged deeper into the water, diving back in, smiling as you couldn’t get rid of that happiness when you were surrounded by water while swimming. Juyeon followed you not so long after, and you waved at the two boys on the shore as they started walking towards the hotel.

“It was nice diving with you, do you think we could do this more often? I had a lot of fun exploring down there,” you said and Juyeon looked at you, a surprised look painted on his face. “I mean sure, whenever you want, we can always do it again! I know good spots in our town where the water is even more beautiful than here,” he explained and you accepted his proposition with a smile, keeping the conversation going as you two remained still in the water.

Once you were tired of trying to keep your head afloat and felt the conversation slowly dying out of presumable nervousness, you rested on your back, gently waiting for the waves to decrease the distance separating you from the beach.

The sky above your head was gorgeous and infinite, tones going through all the colours of the spectroscope as your eyes didn’t know where to look. The water wrapped around your body and the sight of the sky hanging above your head never felt so comforting, you could stay here for hours if it was possible. You let out a big sigh as you relaxed, sometimes shivering, the water getting colder as the sun was close to disappearing.

Juyeon’s upper body appeared in your field of vision and he grinned, observing you relaxing in the water. His eyes disappeared into crescent moons when your back touched the sandy ground faster than intended, taking the hand he was offering you to stand up. He didn’t let go of your hand and ran towards your chairs for the last time, collapsing and sprawling on them out of exhaustion.

Juyeon let out a groan as he repositioned himself in his camping chair, resting his head against the backrest as his legs were spread open in front of him. His right knee rested against yours, but none of you moved away, the action making Juyeon’s ears flush bright red and stifle a smile while closing his eyes. You liked this accidental contact with him, and you wanted to enjoy it while it lasted. Quickly glancing at your friend, you noticed that his eyes started fluttering, pearls of water falling from his messy strands of hair on the far end of his cheeks, rolling down his jaw to crash in his strong neck. As tempting as it looked, you had to force yourself not to wipe the water off his face with the back of your hand, thinking that your gesture would be a bit out of hand.

Out of nowhere, he sat back up, head moving left to right while looking for something, emitting a surprised sound when he found a dry towel resting on his sports bag.

“Is it yours?” he asked, and you shook your head, only to have him unfolding it and wrap it around your shoulders. You opened your eyes wide, startled by his actions, but didn’t dare to say anything, you just smiled at him. Tightening the towel around your body, it felt nice to feel something dry and somehow warm as your towel was completely soaked due to you going back and forth in the ocean during the entire day.

“Do you need anything?” you asked as he furiously blinked, searching for something again. “Can I just use it?” he said, pointing to the towel he had just given you.

Nodding, you were about to unwrap it from your shoulders, but he was swifter, grasping the far end of the towel and wiped his salty, reddened eyes with it, pushing his chair nearer to yours to be more comfortable while doing so. You didn’t dare to move in order not to inflict him a stray elbow hit, smiling at him once he was done.

“Thanks, I just had some sand in my eyes,” he clumsily said, and you shook your head with a smile. “Don’t worry about it,” you reassured him, and he offered you a warm smile, your heart suddenly quickening at the sight.

You both sighed simultaneously, feeling the tiredness and hunger winning over you. You both felt at peace as the sound of the waves began to lull you, the comfortable atmosphere making you slightly shiver in delight. It was hard for both of you to stay awake after you had been swimming all day, breathing through a snorkel was as exhausting as doing any other physical activity.

Juyeon had spent his entire day in the water, and the other boys told you that he got up at dawn to go for a run before joining you at the beach, so it was natural for him to be this drained.

What you didn't expect was his head rolling onto your shoulder, lips slightly parted as he gave up, his slumber sinking him into the comfortable hold of Morpheus's arms. You tried not to move too much in fear of waking him up, so you just mindlessly stared at the ocean stretching as far as the eye could see, following at some jet-skis cutting through the waves and a lifeboat ordering some bathers to return to the secure area.

Loud voices made you turn your head to the side and smile when you saw your friends arriving, all dressed in proper clothes, their hands full of soda and pizza boxes. You greeted them with a soft wave, showing the first to arrive that Juyeon was sleeping on your shoulder. Sunwoo smirked at you and placed the sodas in the cooler under the closed umbrella, Younghoon laying two large picnic tablecloths on the sand.

Your friends gently snickered at the innocent boy asleep on your shoulder, taking pictures of him to the potential blackmail. You shook your head with a thin smile, not approving so much of their method, but you knew there was nothing mean behind all of this, just fun. Once everyone was settled in and ready to eat and spend the evening together, you decided to wake Juyeon up by squeezing the forearm that was sprawled next to you.

"Ju', the boys are back, we're gonna eat," you whispered in his ear and Kevin cooed at your proximity from his spot on the blanket, sending a threatening gaze to silence him, which didn't have any effect on the Canadian boy.

Juyeon quietly emerged, suddenly straightening up when he felt he was resting on you, looking all lost and confused. Your friends burst into laughter at his behaviour as he apologised profusely, but you assured him that it was completely fine. His breathing had accelerated, and his ears turned bright red as the laughter didn’t seem to die down. Seeing him like that just because he had fallen asleep on you made your heart flutter, and you allowed yourself to giggle along with everyone.

After putting on your beach dress, you sat down between Younghoon and Jacob, the latter moving to the side as Juyeon sat behind you two in silence when there was more space on the other side of the blanket. The older boy silently giggled, stifling a remark with an amused look that you tried to ignore, asking Eric to give you a soda can.

“I'm fucking starving,” you blurted out as you all threw yourself on your pizza, you and Juyeon eating at a pretty disconcerting speed.

Every single one of you was busy talking and laughing about the incident that happened to some of the boys while you were still at the beach, while a special someone was busy staring at you.

“And then, Chanhee stared at the waiter and they were both confused about what just happened,” Eric explained and you all laughed, Younghoon quickly throwing a glance at his friend next to you, who didn’t have a single reaction since you all started eating.

Juyeon watched you out of the corner of his eye and allowed himself to wipe a piece of tomato on your cheek with the tip of his forefinger, making you turn your head towards him with a surprised look. He explained to you by mimicking the gesture he had just made on your cheek on his and you nodded as a silent thank you, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

Half the boys had noticed your little game, constantly looking at each other with understood smirks, but no one dared to say anything and break your little bubble of romance.

"We need to do something for those two, they’re getting mad annoying at playing who’s the most oblivious, they're gonna make me gag," Kevin whispered to Sangyeon, nodding at the two of you. You were too busy glancing at each other and listening to the rest of Eric’s story to hear what they were whispering about. "Just let time do its thing," Sangyeon suggested but received a growl in response, the younger absolutely not convinced.

The entire evening was great, your friends poking fun at Juyeon as the poor boy struggled to keep his eyes open and sit straight due to his exhaustion, shoulders sagged and head falling to the side as he shyly smiled at the teasing. When the sun was long gone and the wind started to pick up, you all decided to go back to the hotel to sleep because you were all exhausted, no matter how hard some were trying to deny it. You helped Younghoon shake the sand off and fold the tablecloths while the others were busy throwing away the leftovers and other rubbish.

All the boys checked that no one had forgotten anything and started walking in direction of the hotel, you bringing up the rear after checking everything back one last time.

Juyeon was drowsily walking and suddenly stopped, waiting for you to catch up with him, letting the other boys take the lead. You shyly smiled at him and kept on walking together, almost tripping over when you felt his hand take yours and hold it tight. He gave you a sweet, tired smile and kept on walking as if what he just did was utterly normal, your hands getting clammy and your heart fastening in your chest for the rest of the walk back to the hotel.

You looked up at him and offered him a sweet smile, to which he answered by squeezing your palm in his and gently move you closer to him. Juyeon felt the same way as you did so he couldn't feel your nervousness, but his behaviour gave you a hint that something will probably change between the two of you, and it was for the best.