#pls not the windswept look at the end

[arminsumi]

SAKURA.

𝐆. 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 — 五条悟 ⋅ fem reader

NOTE: i really liked this idea and merged it with my little daydream of Gojo being in his clan and meeting you in a small village (like before he moved to the city or something) and tweaked it just a lil bit if that's ok!! i hope i delivered, and mwa ty for your request lovely anon i hope i got it all right, enjoyyy 💐

REQUEST: Can you pls write gojo who gets the Hanahaki disease cause of reader and gojos condition worsens so to keep the strongest alive the higher ups set up an arranged marriage with reader (her mission is to love gojo so he doesn’t die but she is defensive and uncooperative at first) but then she warms up to gojo (he does everything to make her happy) and they both live happily ever after 😭💕

SUMMARY — you meet a boy on a Taiko-bashi as a child. Little did you know, he was the prodigal son of the Gojo clan, and you would be married into that family to save his life.

WARNINGS — heavy angst to fluffy fluff, he steals ur first kiss, domestic life with ur kid Megumi at the end <3 😭, unrequited -> requited love, arranged marriage, quite a lot of blood/bloody flower mentions, disease/afflicted with coughing spells (see about the fictional Hanahaki disease here. Basically u cough up flowers and/or throw up full flowers if it gets life-threatening), poor boy almost dies, there’s a scene where it’s insinuated that he throws up a full flower, some teasing/playfulness yk the usual you'd expect from gojo, lmk if i have missed a warning thank u

WORDCOUNT ≈ 4.3k

PLAY ME ♪ bouquet — Ichiko Aoba

🍒 𝐉𝐚𝐲 — サクランボ ⋅ 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬/𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭 !

When you were seven, a boy a few years older than you – perhaps two or three – passed you by on a Taiko-bashi in a small village. You remember him as the boy with peculiar eyes and white hair who looked back at you on the bridge. In your eyes, it was a very ordinary encounter with a very extraordinary looking stranger.

But in his infinitely blue eyes, there was ingrained a more meaningful and vivid memory of that encounter. He held it very close to his heart. When you and he made that brief eye contact as he looked behind his shoulder, slowing at his mother’s side, he felt a windswept, lovestruck feeling come over him. He batted his pretty lashes at you and stopped walking for a fleeting moment, as if captivated, and then went his separate way with the image of your face burned into the forefront of his mind. His kimono fluttered as he tended to walk in a gliding manner.

When you were fourteen, the same encounter happened again. A familiarly pale face with barely grown-in features looked back at you – his whole body felt a twinge of excitement. He only took one small moment to look at you and yet knew you were the same girl he saw as a child on this very same bridge.

Years went by, and the two of you kept encountering each other at peculiar times in your lives at that same bridge. Neither of you spoke to each other once, well, you didn’t say a word – but he uttered a few boyishly desperate greetings and even bowed as he glided past you to try and get your attention. If only you would have stopped for a chat, the poor boy would have given anything for that.

In some way, it felt like the two of you knew each other, though it was only your eyes that ever talked.

Come your eighteenth birthday, you were burdened with awful news. You were to be married to a man you had never met – someone from the Gojo clan. That person was apparently fatally sick with a disease you had scarce knowledge on. You asked your friend at the time, her name you’ve long forgotten by now, about Hanahaki and all she said was;

“Your lover is going to spit flowers in your face.”

You scrunched your nose up in disgust and confusion at this. A very silly image formed in your mind about the disease ever since your old friend had said that ��� all you could imagine was your future husband spitting saliva-wettened, half-destroyed flowers at your face.

The Gojo family and your family had always distantly known each other, hence all the visits to the village that they resided in. Your marriage to Gojo was long-debated throughout the years – yet neither you nor him knew anything about it. Neither of you prospected marriage, you were just the two strangers that passed each other on the Taiko-bashi every time the Sakura was in bloom.

The first time you and the son of the Gojo clan were introduced, it had already begun with a rocky start. You walked in when he had been overwhelmed with a coughing fit, and you were hushed back outside. The shoji door smacked shut behind you, and you heard sickly coughs piercing through the translucent sheets. When your future husband stopped coughing, and the blood and petals were cleaned up, you were brought back into the room. There were both your families and some important-looking officials in the large room, all formally sat on the tatami mats with mixed expressions. His mother seemed delighted at the sight of your face – but not more than her son.

Gojo Satoru, an eighteen-year-old at the time, with usually such a loud mouth and good joke up his sleeve, was rendered speechless when you had walked into the room. He analysed and absorbed every feature that made up the image of what he thought was the most charming and alluring creature ever to exist. Definitely a creature, he thought as you formally bowed with him, because no human could possess such an ethereal beauty.

Satoru was intrigued by you from your encounter on the Taiko-bashi, but when he was finally introduced to you he was utterly captivated.

The reasons and conditions for your marriage with the Gojo clan’s prodigal son conflicted with your strong beliefs in love and romance. You had rather aggressively told the poor boy your opinions in the days leading up to your wedding.

“I always thought,” you emphasized with a snotty tone, yet he listened to you like one would listen to the tranquil flow of the river under the Taiko-bashi, “that I would marry someone I loved, and not be forced to love…” you seemed so disappointed with how your life was turning out, that he couldn’t help but feel a bit bad for you.

“I’m a positive person, I have faith that you’ll fall in love with me in no time.” He said cheekily and winked at you. You felt very taken aback by such straight-forward flirting – you must understand, no boys in your village ever did that. They were very proper, even reserved.

He was almost charming in that instant, but then he added; “Who wouldn’t fall in love with me?”

At the time he was so full of himself that you could hardly believe there was space for any petals in his body. But there certainly was – when you left him alone in that room and stormed off, appalled by his conceit, he clutched the side of the door frame and coughed up little pink petals – enough to comprise three whole flowers.

It started worrying him, a few days before the wedding, when he started coughing more often. And not just that, but he started coughing up more petals than he had ever in his life. The peculiar disease had started during a time in his childhood that was coincidentally very close to the time he first passed you by on the bridge.

The night before the wedding, he laid in bed and brooded. And he was never the type to brood – he let life happen and moved on relatively easily. But he brooded, and brooded until it felt like he sunk so deep into his futon that he became one with it. The ceiling blurred.

What was going to happen if you didn’t fall in love?

That thought scared him so much that he violently drove it out of his mind and replaced it with an ideal daydream; he envisioned you and him cuddled up, bracing each other’s bodies, and melting into each other like real lovers do. He imagined you would be warmer than him, with that cool touch he had, and you would also stroke his hair. It was very fluffy, he made sure to point that out to you several times – but you never took a hint.

On the day of your wedding, he snuck to meet you just before the ceremony. He was crouched in the garden outside the room that you were preparing in. It’s then when he heard you voice your feelings to whoever it was helping you get ready.

“How can I love a stranger? And anyways, he is so full of himself, I can hardly believe there’s space for any flowers in there. There’s nothing I like about him.”

“Oh, Y/n, you have yet to learn about him. I’m sure you will find he’s rather charming. He is the pride of the Gojo clan, after all – he has the Six Eyes and Limitless. He’s the strongest, he’ll always be able to protect you – ”

It sounded like the woman talking about him was your mother, with how she praised him so much. She was right, Gojo thought; he could protect you from anything.

His expression was grave after hearing your thoughts. But he put on a lightened smile and masked his slight heartbrokenness when the rituals and main ceremony commenced.

It was a very formal, rigid ceremony. Gojo looked up at you sadly a few times, wishing you would spare a glance. He brooded on the idea that you’ll never love him like he loves you, and then a sickening, ticklish feeling spread in his throat and just as the closing ritual ended, he burst into a coughing fit – one of his worst yet. A bit of blood dribbled out his flushed lips, contrasting against his pale skin. Of course you were concerned – and of course you felt the urge to help and comfort him. But those feelings were purely out of the goodness of your heart.

Friends share love. But even when you and Gojo developed something resembling a friendship, it didn’t alleviate his disease. It was embarrassing sometimes, to realize that you were failing at the one thing you had to do; and that was keep him alive.

He was quite genuinely dying for you to love him.

Yet you refused to be in the same room as him for too long. Your mother had to encourage you. Eventually, both his family and your family worked together to make sure you and Gojo spent adequate time with each other. They organized meetups ranging from fancy nights-out to long voyages to weekend sleepovers. It was comical, how your families got along more smoothly than you and Gojo.

It’s the spring of his nineteenth birthday when the thought of kissing you becomes a reality. Well, it doesn’t go as he planned it. See, Gojo envisioned that kissing you would solve all his problems – he thought he could infect you with his love, somehow worm into your heart through a passionate kiss.

So when you and him sat for tea in a spacious room, kneeled side by side on the tatami mats, he went in for a kiss. You were distractedly straightening out your kimono when suddenly a pair of inexperienced, boyish lips crashed onto yours.

“Mmf!” you reacted with sheer shock – why on earth was he kissing you? The audacity, he had just insulted and made a mockery of you with a cheeky, playful attitude.

“Satoru!” you whined into his mouth.

He cupped the back of your neck and partly entangled his hands in your hair. White lashes sat pretty as he closed his eyes and glided his wettened lips over yours. For the briefest moment, you let yourself enjoy his kiss. But suddenly, as if your principles of love kicked back in and stomped on the moment, you shoved him away.

And a hard shove that was, he fell out of balance and landed on the mats with his elbows, a look of shock and surprise twisting into comedy.

“Playing hard to get?” he joked. His heart sunk ever so slightly at your rejection.

“You can’t just kiss a girl!”

“Come on, I’m your husband – if I can’t kiss you, then who is allowed to?” he asked.

You looked furious, like you were about to bite him, so he slowly started backtracking.

“I just wanted to see if kissing you would – ”

“How dare you, that was my first kiss! I thought I would have a cute first kiss, not a hasty one shared over… over a cup of tea!” you complained.

His expression changed and he started sputtering apologies. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know – I – ahuh!” he started lightly coughing.

And now it was your turn to feel apologetic, because all the bad tension between you and him brought on another violent coughing fit for him.

“I’m okay.” He choked out, eyes water and face reddened – some blood pooled at the corners of his lips, he instinctually brought his hand up to his mouth to catch any that dripped.

You rushed and kneeled over him, placing a much-needed soothing hand on his shoulder. “Satoru, I’m sorry.”

He tried to muster up a joke to lighten your worry, “H-hey, since when d’you call me S-Satoru? I thought it was strictly Go-jo.” he was interrupted by more coughing.

You comforted him, until his parents came into the room. They seemed disappointed with you, but masked it.

The night fell heavy all around the Gojo home. The barren Sakura trees’ branches subtly shook in the wind. A storm was approaching.

“Hey, sweetlips.” Gojo slipped into your room as you were in the middle of preparing for bed. “There’s a big storm comin’, if you get scared you can sleep with me.”

“Are you out of your mi-” you shut up when a sudden, extraordinary crack of lightning sounded and shocked you right out of your skin.

Gojo had a little laughing fit at your overreaction. He was completely calm at such a loud noise. Of course he was.

“I’m not sleeping with you!” you muttered angrily, but then you saw the dejection on his face – no, rather, you saw the way he tried to conceal it, and you felt bad.

Maybe tonight is the night you’ll try harder, you thought.

“Okay, well, don’t cry like a wimp if the thunder scares you ‘cause I won’t come running to soothe you.” He said and left you alone.

When he walked down the hall, his fingers grazed over his lips. All he could think about was how blissful it felt to kiss you, even if you did reject him. And he was your first kiss – maybe it was wrong to smile over that, but he couldn’t help himself as he climbed into the comforts of his bed.

A violent rainstorm engulfed the village.

As the lightning got more frequent and more terrifying, Gojo scrunched up his shoulders and half-hid his face under his blanket. He felt like a boy again, as scared of the thunderstorms as he was when he was seven years old. His pretty upturned nose peaked over the blanket, eyes glistening with tears as he recalled the fateful day you and him encountered each other at the Taiko-bashi.

He held onto that memory with a death grip. No one else ever had the honor of being so close to his heart, not even his best friend who he had made at Jujutsu high when he was seventeen. No, that heart of his he kept reserved for you. He thought to himself that night, while curling up on his side in pain, that even if he dies, at least he would die having been able to love you – albeit without reciprocation.

And then it happened. He shot up and let out a violent cough, and began spluttering over his white blanket. The thunderstorm was so violent that it muffled even the violent coughing in his room. His head felt like a dense ball of tension.

Unrequited love for many boys his age was heartbreaking, but not deadly. He morbidly laughed at that fact, observing the flower that he had thrown up onto his blanket, soaked in his blood.

He was dying.

He defeatedly closed his eyes, breathing through his blood-glistening mouth. His chest lightly heaved. “Y/n, you’re really gonna be the death of me… ah, oh well. That’s okay.” He muttered madly to himself and fell back onto his bed, too weak to stay awake any longer.

It was probably the work of the universe, but you floated down the unlit hall and tapped at Gojo’s doorframe. “Are you awake? Satoru?” you called his name in a gentle murmur.

There was an eerie silence. You slid open the door and caught a glimpse of bloodied sheets and a mangled-looking flower.

“Satoru!” you rushed over to him, stirring him awake with a harsh shake on his arm. “Satoru? Are you okay? Can you hear me?”

He groaned weakly – you felt a small relief. He wasn’t dead, though he really looked pale enough to be. His cheeks were flushed, his lips cracked and dry with residual blood.

Not a word you spoke sounded coherent to him though it was, all he heard was the soothing qualities in your voice. Though his vision was blurred, he knew it was you, because he felt the familiar air and scent of you.

He felt a strange sort of alleviation when you cupped his cheeks, murmuring something. Oh, when did he end up in a doctor’s room, laid on a patient’s cot? Weren’t you and him just in his bedroom at night, during a loud thunderstorm?

All he recalled was that you held his hand and squeezed it for a long time, while you were travelling somewhere. He remembered feeling your comforting presence each time his consciousness stirred.

“Have I died and gone to heaven?” he chuckled jokingly, feeling your lips press to his forehead.

“Huh?”

“Probably dreaming…” he muttered to himself.

“Satoru, you’re not in heaven you’re at Doctor Tanaka’s home.” You told him.

He pinched his eyes shut, overwhelmed by his afflicting sickness and Six Eyes.

“I’m so sorry…” he heard you speaking in a more tender voice to him than you ever had before. He felt the pressure in his chest lessen as you spoke, “… I was going to come to you because the thunderstorm scared me… no, actually, because I wanted to be with you. I felt this overwhelming urge to be at your side, and I don’t know why. Satoru, I’ve been such a fool. I’ve been such a scared fool, fearful of loving a stranger. Or, no, I guess I’ve feared loving someone I’m not supposed to be loving. You’re so special I feel driven away by it. But I promise I won’t flee from your love anymore, Satoru – I love you, and I’ll express it as much as I can in this feeble human form. The rest of our love will happen in the stars, after we die, I guess.”

He opened his eyes. It felt like the burdening fog that had been plaguing him since he was a little boy on the Taiko-bashi finally cleared. Everything felt fresh and sharp, and good and properly comforting. It felt like he had woken up from a long dream or arrived home from a harrowing journey through the landscapes of his mind.

“So you can be good with your words.” Was the first thing he said, and that was such a Gojo response that you knew he was okay.

“How do you feel?” you asked him, peering down at him.

He groaned and stretched and shifted around, fussing dramatically.

“I feel…” he began, and looked over at your lips. “Like I deserve to be kissed.”

“Oh, shut up you…”

He pouted. “Okay, ‘guess the kissing can wai- mmf!”

You kissed him very quickly and recoiled from shyness. His lips were divine.

He shot up out of the bed like he couldn’t just believe what happened.

“Wow.” He blinked at you. “So gutsy, you know you’re not allowed to kiss your husband!” he joked.

“You are such a – ”

“ – good kisser?”

“An idiot!” you giggled, genuinely enjoying his company.

The two of you bantered, basking in the newfound feeling of shared love. When the doctor came back in, he was preparing to witness the worst – but he was utterly surprised and at a loss for words when he walked in on you two smiling and laughing.

And it was the talk of the village. Neighbors gossiped, “Did you hear that Gojo Satoru is cured?” they spoke amongst themselves, “I heard! Apparently it’s a very romantic love story, did you read the newspaper article?”

You and Gojo drifted down the Taiko-bashi, together. He squeezed your hand when you set foot on the bridge, the cool skin of his wrist tickling your inner wrist as they pressed together.

“What are we doing here?” you asked him confusedly.

“Don’t you know this place? It’s the place we met.”

“Ooh, you’re romantic, huh?” you smirked.

A small blush crowned his cheeks.

“I’ve been romantic since the start.” He defended.

“What d’you mean! You were so cheeky!” you kicked his leg.

“I was quite a menace, I’m sorry – not sorry – kidding, kidding, I am sorry.”

He looked at you with a cheeky smirk, knowing damn well what you were talking about.

“You know…” he began, looking over the bridge at the river flowing beneath and admiring how the stream carried the Sakura blossoms. “Whenever I used to get coughing fits – bad ones – I would soothe myself with the memory of when we first met here. I can still recall the kimono you wore, and the Sakura that got tangled in your hair – and I thought about…” he came closer to you, speaking with a charming allure, “How badly I wanted to pluck that flower from your hair.”

You blinked up at him. How could such romantic words come out of him? You didn’t know how to respond.

“Ooh, did I make you shy?” he teased.

“No…”

“I totally made you shy. That’s so sweet. Are you blushing?” he giggled, putting his cool palm up to your cheek to feel the heat, “Oh, you’re blushing blushing. You could burn my hand right off.”

“Satoru!” you giggled.

“Ah!” he clutched his chest dramatically when you said his name, “Don’t say my name like that! I have a wife.” He joked.

“You are ridiculous!”

He gave you a big, toothy smile. “But you love me for it.”

“I do.” You tell him, and though he’s heard it many times after that day, each time feels like the first time you’re saying you love him.

“Gimme a kiss.” He asks.

“Come get it.” You tease, slowly backing away off the bridge.

“Seriously? You’re gonna make me chase you for a kiss? I’ve coughed up petals because of you, ‘n you’re gonna do me like this – heyyy! Get back here!”

Running into the petal-littered streets like carefree kids felt so freeing and exhilarating. He felt like he was catching up on all the fun he missed, if only you would have lived in his village as a child or visited more often.

“Got you!”

“Ah! Jesus, you scared – mmmf!”

He didn’t hesitate to take a much-needed kiss from your quivering lips. He kissed you so hard that you felt dizzied, lost for breath, rendered speechless. And he relished the love pouring out from you.

You stood there being kissed by your husband in a quaint alley, standing tiptoed on the Sakura blossom-littered ground to meet him halfway. Gojo’s heart thumped at the smallest things, like the fact you were standing on your tiptoes – that was the cutest thing in the world to him.

The two of you took a break for breath, and silently admired the Sakura blossoms as they drifted, being swept away by the wind.

Gojo looked at them, and looked at you, and thought of everything that had happened up until now. He was about to say something lovey-dovey but blurted out a dumb joke instead just to hear your laugh.

“Damn, I used to cough up those things.”

You laughed, “Your jokes aren’t good, Satoru.”

“But you laughed.” He said cockily.

“Shut up or I will never kiss you again.” You playfully threatened.

“You don’t mean it.” He tilted his head at you. You cracked a smile.

On the walk home, he kept calling you various nicknames – all flowers.

That day became a cherished memory of the past as the two of you weaved your way into proper adulthood. And the nicknames followed; he went through the whole flower alphabet, even the bizarrely named ones, even the Latin root names. When he wanted to annoy you, he’d call you prunus subgenus cerasus.

Now Gojo fusses around the living room of his tiny Tokyo apartment, preparing food for a little boy of the name Megumi. The day is full and busy, but any second he can get with you, he relishes.

“My tulip, 'gimme a kiss.” He asks.

“Come get it.” You tease.

“Ew.” Megumi grimaces, hearing this exchange right as he walks into the kitchen. He walks right back out.

“Gumi, get back here, food is almost ready.” Gojo calls after him, then leans down to try and kiss you but you playfully dodge him.

It always happens like that – he asks for a kiss, you refuse jokingly, he chases after you for a kiss and you scamper away. Like a running joke that’s a callback to your past.

“C’mere, you – ” he finally snatches you up, too needy for a kiss to play around anymore. “Stay right there and let me kiss you.”

He enjoys every second of kissing you, embracing you tight like he’s never letting go. Just like when he first kissed you, Gojo cups the back of your neck and tilts his head to deepen the kiss. It has you breathless, gasping – he’s so alluring that you shudder.

“Satoru!” you scold, “The food will get cold…” you excuse.

“Okay, okay. But you owe me extra kisses tonight.” He winks.

“You’ll have to get them out of me yourself.” You tease.

“Oh, I will, don’t you worry. I’ll take every little kiss I can.” He says determinedly.

He pecks at your lips, savoring the sound and feeling of the act.

“Ew!” Megumi grimaces, and walks out the kitchen just as he walks in like earlier.

“Gumi! Food! Sit-your-silly-butt-and-eat! You rascal you.” Gojo lifts him by the armpits, and tickles him like a real dad.

Megumi is poker-faced at the tickling.

“Y/n, tell Gojo he’s being annoying.”

“Husband, you’re being annoying.” You murmur up at Gojo.

“Am I?” he smiles down at you, giving you another cheeky peck.

Megumi sighs.

“Stop spyin’ and start eating, little lotus.” Gojo threatens playfully.

“Dad. Save the flower nicknames for Y/n.” Megumi scrunches his nose up.

Gojo's face lit up. “Okay, okay. Enjoy eating, I'm gonna go see where she went off to.”

He hurried into the bedroom where you had wandered into and excitedly whisper-shouted “He called me dad!” he gushed like he was the happiest man alive.

© 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐢 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈'𝐕𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐄.

[moonlit-han]

a sweet ride ↠ yang jeongin

genre: bad boy!jeongin, high school au, fluff word count: 3.5k warnings: swearing, mention of smoking & underage alcohol consumption, almost suggestive request: yes (yangomangos, prompt included: “Don’t cry.”) a/n: this one’s for the jeongin enthusiasts~ 

✧ masterlist & tag list info in bio ✧

↠↞

every morning as you wait outside your high school for classes to start

you hear the thunder of his motorcycle

it’s loud, mildly obnoxious, and occasionally spits out fumes

but you don’t care

you actually like the sound of the bike and how the vibrations rumble in ur chest

it’s a sleek black and built almost entirely by him: old chassis, long handle bars, and a satisfying growl as the engine ignites

if you stand too close when he pulls up in the parking lot in the morning, you can feel the vibrations coming through the pavement

(your mum would probably lock you in a tower only a knight could enter if she ever found out you’d been on a motorcycle

…..not that you’d been on one

yet (ﾟ▽ﾟ｀*)? )

the owner of that motorcycle is your high school’s one and only bad boy

♡･｡.:*.ﾟyang jeongin ﾟ.*:.｡･♡

(but please call him “I.N.” because he’s actually out of the preppy, popular crowd  ( ｀^´ ) )

he could ride that motorcycle straight through your heart and you wouldn’t care

okay maybe not your heart bc that would hurt (˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )

but definitely through your bedroom

that would be

f i n e (⊙‿⊙✿)

……….

all your friends cover their ears and turn away when jeongin pulls up

there isn’t a rule against a senior having a motorcycle and riding it to school

there are people who drive cars to school and that’s fine

he has a license and always wears a helmet

and he wears a thick leather jacket and heavy, black boots

(you’ve seen those boots

they look like they could stomp through concrete or smth)

there is no way he wouldn’t be safe

well, besides the fact that he rides a motorcycle

but you, still not caring, just kinda stare as he rides into the parking area in front of the school

he always does this cool lil swing into his designated “motorcycles only” spot

and then takes off his helmet

to do that fucking hair shake that you always see in movies

that can only mean “hot guy on a motorcycle”

fucking hell

oh and he then runs his fingers through his black hair

to make it appropriately ~windswept~

and, yes, he looks way too god damn hot

unnecessarily so in your humble opinion (๑`^´๑)

you almost flip your shit every morning just bc of him

he’s handsome like a fucking movie star

angled cheekbones, a defined nose and chin, a jawline so sharp it could ki— it could seriously hurt you

and don’t even start on his eyes

jeongin’s eyes are so dark you often wonder if they’re actually brown

if he looks at you in the halls, you immediately get the sense he could somehow see into your soul

and, judging by the dark aura he has, probably can

jeongin isn’t particularly horrible or anything, but he’s known throughout the school to, honestly, not give a flying fuck

about anything

he’s….a little chaotic

for example, he flouts any rule he doesn’t like

and he talks back if a teacher says something he doesn’t agree with

(this has lead to some very heated discussions in class

although, you were actually inclined to agree with him most of the time, since he usually brings up some good points and such

(it’s generally a good idea, you’ve mused on a regular basis, to treat people like human beings and not like machines only in existence to produce goods and perform services to a select few)

most of your classes are with him

and he’s really smart

like the kind of smart where he barely does any work but still passes the class with an A

i mean, who said he could do that??!!?!

who allowed such sorcery

heCk

and you know he’s passed all his courses

he may or may not occasionally smoke or drink behind the school but you know for a fact there are people who do much worse and nobody says anything about them

maybe it’s the leather

and the moodiness

but um;;;;; that’s kinda hot, you know?

you’re not really sure why people think he’s the “bad boy”...

you’ve never seen or heard him be mean or rude to anyone, so how bad can he be?

okay okay yes you’ve seen the knife hilts poking out of his boots

but who the fuck cares?!! ( • ̀ω•́ ) 

it’s not like he’s ever pulled them on anyone

that you know of

.............

OH

and you’re pretty sure he knows you kinda watch him, too

bc one day he parked his bike facing the school instead of away

and you were just ~there~ as usual

but feeling very alone and exposed

since your dumbass friends had all decided to abandon you in your hour of need by walking away just before he rode up

and then, like a herd of sheep, they all turned to watch you as he did

ahahah friends? what are they?! nah don’t need them;;;

so there you were standing out on the pavement

very obviously looking at him

w e l p  Σ(☉‿☉✿)Σ(☉‿☉✿)Σ(☉‿☉✿)

but, of course, he just had to look up

and this lil shit winked at you

actually winked

EXCUSE ME YANG JEONGIN

W H A T

;;;;;;;;;;;;

your friends teased you all day

“ooooh look it’s lover boy”

“shut up shut up shut up”

“but he just lookeD AT YOU”

“you’re lying”

“Y/N YOU FOOL”

“HHHHHHHH”

and it only gets worse from there (....um, you sure about that y/n?)

now whenever jeongin arrives in the mornings

he makes a point at looking over at you

you don’t always notice, unfortunately

and he ends up with a sad lil smile on his face bc he knows you’re having fun with your friends

but fuck!!!!

you’re just so!!! cute!!!!!

how can he not notice you??!!!

especially when you’re in all of his classes

and obviously watch for his motorcycle every morning

it makes him feel kinda cool, tbh

he’s also noticed that you like strawberries

a  l o t (≧◡≦)

as in, your backpack is a strawberry

you have strawberry pins on said strawberry backpack

your raincoat has a pattern of strawberries on it

your pencil case may or may not be a lil cat eating, yes, a strawberry

SO

jeongin being the smooth guy (he thinks) he is

gets you a strawberry sweetbread

and is all excited to give it to you

so after class on friday, he decides today’s his chance

(also, the sweetbread isn’t gonna last forever alfdjghafkgj)

aaaand you both try to walk out the door at the same time

which doesn’t work

but WOW YOU’RE NOW REALLY CLOSE TO HIM

jeongin: *vibrates*

ACTUALLY TOUCHING SHOULDERS

WHAT

…..fuck (￢_￢;)

and since when do you smell really good, too?? alkjhsjfghajhf

jeongin’s just a little overwhelmed, you know?

ANyWaY;;;;;;

y/n, blushing furiously: “oh my god sorry”

jeongin, spluttering: “no, no after you”

((oh wow his voice dropped since the last time you saw him

how is that even possible??? guys….))

after a couple tries back and forth through the doorway

(your teacher’s trying not to laugh in the background)

you finally both make it out of the classroom

and you start to speed walk away since your friends are waiting so you all can hang out

“hey, y/n!” comes down the hall after you

ALSDJHADJFLHG what ;;

you turn around quickly to find jeongin standing right behind you

“um, so i noticed you really like strawberries”

e x c u s e  m e (O_O);;;

first of all:

yang jeongin—your school’s super hot bad boy, the guy you’re only a little obsessed with bc he rides a motorcycle, the inexplicably brilliant student, and total badass—just spoke to you

WHAT

((really, Y/N?? r e a l l y?????))

second of all:

he’s holding something wrapped in absolutely adorable cat (and strawberry) wrapping paper

that’s completely against his aesthetic

but matches yours to a tee ( ◡‿◡ ♡)

huh….

“y/n?” *holds out package*

you have to mentally shake yourself a little

but you’re back now

hhhHHHH

“me?”

“Yeah, I got you this. I hope you like it.” (●´ω｀●)

“thanks?” you say a bit lamely

you take the package and get a whiff of sweetbread

s w e e t b r e a d!!!! (*♡∀♡)

ajfhakljfhgjdsfgh your fav

you’d half expected jeongin to blast on outta there asap

but now he’s just standing in front of you, just kinda shifting back and forth

wait…is he nervous??

you slowly unwrap the package, careful not to damage the wrapping paper

(you are so going to reuse it or hang it on the wall or something ajdsdjfg)

and inside is a rounded sweetbread with strawberries delicately placed on top amongst swirls of pink icing

you gasp quietly

fucking hell it’s the cutest thing you’ve ever seen

jeongin’s just watching you, a small smiling spreading across his face

(which you don’t notice bc  b r e a d)

you take a small bite of the treat and

。*:゜♡ヽ(*’∀’*)/♡゜:。*。

IT’S SOOOOO GOOD!!!!

you take another bite before looking up at jeongin and you finally see his smile

( ◡‿◡ ♡) (♡‿♡) (*♡∀♡)

it’s actually the best thing you’ve ever seen

there’s so much genuine happiness, and just a hint of mischievous mirth, in his smile

you feel like you’re looking into the sun, it’s so bright

why did jeongin, of all people get you, of all people, a sweetbread?

jeongin, completely unable to look cool anymore and shifting back and forth on the balls of his feet: “is it good?”

“OH MY GOD YES!!!”

and then you do something you never thought you’d do

ever

in the whole world ever

you throw your arms around yang jeongin’s neck

and give him a really big hug

his arms come up and around you to hug you back almost immediately,

which you were expecting even less than your own actions

but his hug is wonderful, even if he’s holding you like fine china

in a moment, you remember yourself and quickly step back

jeongin is blushing so much that he looks like a strawberry

(so good you just wanna eat him up (◕‿◕))

((y/n pls,,,,, not here....))

and you know you’re blushing just as much

you splutter an apology and run off down the hallway

and because you’re running off,

you don’t notice that jeongin is staring after

like a lovesick puppy (◕︵◕)

your friends are all over you about the sweetbread

bc they love it too

but you just say that you forgot you’d brought it with you that day

for some reason, you didn’t want to tell about your encounter with jeongin

when you get home, you savor the sweetbread,

remembering the warmth of jeongin’s smile~

the next friday, you’re outside at the picnic tables during lunch

it’s an absolutely beautiful day, with a light breeze~ (⌒ω⌒)

against the better judgement and fervent suggestions of your friends

you decide that it’s a great idea to get on top of one the tables

and dance

why?

someone had started playing ABBA’s “Dancing Queen”

no one can resist that song

so you’re having the time of your life

just dancing around on the table that your friends have since vacated bc they

a) don’t want to get kicked in the head, and

b) feel quite embarrassed to associate with you while you’re like this

......traitors (๑`^´๑)

and as anyone with an ounce of sense does when dancing to ABBA

you occasionally close your eyes in happiness

and suddenly you’ve stepped into air

your heart lurches and your eyes fly open 

and your mind goes completely blank with panic

but you never reach the ground

you’re now surrounded by the smell of leather, metal, and.....

boy

someone had saved you from falling

the arms holding you are strong and well-muscled

and, surprisingly, comfortable

“i’ve got you,” a voice murmurs

you look up into the face of none other than jeongin

(⊙__⊙✿) 

welp

you think to yourself “what... i thought he didn’t care about people??”

((nope y/n, he cares about YOU bc you’re the cutest and so lovely))

he smirks down at you, then sets you back down on the ground

“try to be more careful. okay, y/n?” he says, smoothing a wayward piece of your hair, then just walks off

you blush

(this seems to be becoming a common occurrence with jeongin)

and just stand there, dumbfounded

as jeongin saunters away to sit under a tree at the far end of the lawn

it’s a good saunter, and the tight, black skinny jeans only help (⊙ __ ⊙);;;;

your friends rush you, asking if you’re okay and asking what was up with jeongin

you say that you have no idea

......although, that’s not entirely true

since you now have a sneaking suspicion that *gasp* jeongin might have a crush on you?

maybe??

(hopefully!! (ﾟ▽ﾟ｀*)?) 

your friends just continue dithering as you stare at jeongin, who’s watching you right back

he winks

ALKJSDHGAKLDJFGADJKFGBADJF

you really wish he’d stop doing that bc it’s making your heart pound like a herd of horses and now yOu CAn’t EveN THinK

FUCK!!

later that day as school’s letting out

jeongin comes up to you, leather jacket slung over his shoulder

he’s got on a black t-shirt with the sleeves rolled up a couple times

and ooooooh my

you’d never noticed before

(well, besides during lunch when he caught you)

but yang jeongin has really nice arms

and pecs (⊙‿⊙)  

and now you’re staring (oh fuck,,,,, not again)

“uh;;;; hi, jeongin!” you manage to squeak out alkdjfhsldjf

“hey, i was wondering if you wanted a ride”

eXCusE Me wHAt??? ∑(ﾟﾛﾟ〃)

“on the motorcycle. i have an extra helmet, since my sister sometimes rides with me”

O H 

your mouth takes control before you even have time to think

“sure! i’d love to!!”

a minute later, you’re standing in front of that sleek, black motorcycle that you’ve admired for months

the young man riding it helps the matter quite a lot, too

there’s even this little carrier container on the back of the bike that he puts his (small) backpack into

he reaches out for yours and stows it

then, jeongin hands you a helmet with lime green racing stripes on its sides

you briefly wonder if his sister is anything like him

probably

“have you ever ridden a motorcycle before?” jeongin asks

you shake your head, unable to speak bc you’re so excited and also kinda nervous

your mom’s words fly through your head

don’t you dare get on a motorcycle, y/n. ever. don’t you dare! they’re too dangerous by half and— well, if i ever find out you’ve been on one, you won’t be allowed out of the house, except for going to school, for a month. you mark my words, y/n! (; ･`д･´)

you promptly ignore her voice in your head and slid the helmet down over your head

the world suddenly becomes slightly more vibrantly colored as the visor shields your eyes

jeongin had swung his long legs over the bike, straddling it with his feet still on the ground

“so, the important thing is to stay in line with me. what i mean is that if i lean to one side or the other, you’ve gotta lean with me. otherwise, we’ll fall over and that really wouldn’t be good. just hold on tight to my waist and, sorry i don’t mean to sound rude, but please don’t scream.”

jeongin looks only a little rueful as he says that

but you don’t blame him

you wouldn’t want someone screaming in your ears as you tried to concentrate either

“okay, right. lean with you. hold on tight,” you say

jeongin sits down, one foot still on the ground, and pats the seat behind him

“come on! take a seat—i promise you’ll be fine, y/n”

tentatively, you clamber onto the motorcycle behind jeongin

and wrap your arms around his waist

you can feel . . .

holy shit his abs feel like a fucking washboard

ExCuSE mE?????!!!! (＠_＠)

heCk

((y/n, pls. calm down;;; we know he’s got muscles))

so um,,,, yeah

it’s really actually quite comfy to lean against his back

but then hen he lays his hands over yours

and looking back over his shoulder says, “ready, babe?

B A B E

HHHHHHHHHHHH

***y/n has officially malfunctioned***

damn tho

this boy is bold as fuck

wow

you’re not exactly complaining

bc you now know that you like being called “babe”

it makes you feel special (✿◠‿◠)

and you like how it sounds coming from jeongin

you can tell jeongin is grinning under his helmet

“yep, i’m ready,” you manage to say

and then you feel and hear the thunder of the engine igniting

it’s exhilarating and you hadn’t even started moving yet

jeongin yells over the engine “hold on!”

in one smooth motion he kicks the kickstand up, brought his foot off the ground, released the brake and clutch

and then...

and then you feel like you’re flying

even though you’re not going 70 mph (113 kph)

the wind tears at your clothes

making you feel freer than you’d ever felt before~

you thought you’d guessed what it would feel like to ride on a motorcycle

but even your wildest imaginings couldn’t come close to reality

you hold on tightly to jeongin’s waist, feeling every shift of his body as he guides the motorcycle along the roads surrounding your school

all too soon you find yourself back in the parking lot of your high school

you don’t release your hold on jeongin until after he’s shut off the engine

jeongin takes off his helmet, shaking his hair as usual, and hangs it on a handlebar

then he turns on the seat

you lean back

but jeongin reaches out and gently removes your helmet to place it on the seat between the two of you

even without touching it, you could feel that your hair was mussed

so you shake out your hair, too

and immediately understand why jeongin does it

you feel strangely powerful and a bit sexy

it’s a fun, new feeling

jeongin smiles like you’re the loveliest flower he’s ever seen

and, for the second time that day, tucks a strand of hair behind your ear

“how was it?” he asks, a look of concern on his face

you beam, feeling infinitely more at ease around jeongin

“amaaaaazing!”

“yeah? oh, don’t cry, y/n”

“what? oh” you realize that you are, indeed, crying

you wipe the tears from your face

after all, they’re just tears of happiness

“jeongin, it was incredible, oh my god. can we do it again? please?”

he laughs, throwing his head back 

and you glimpse the dimple at the base of his throat

“maybe another day, babe” jeongin concedes

you pout

“oh, okay. thank you”

there’s a look in jeongin’s eyes that you can’t quite place

is it sadness? fondness? desire?

he exhales, then the corner of his mouth quirks up

you feel the warmth of his fingers caress your cheek

“y/n, may i kiss you?”

***yet again, we regret to inform you that y/n has malfunctioned***

what the ever loving flipping fuck

d— did jeongin just,,,,

did he?

ALKJHGALKJFHG;AKLHFGAKLJGHKAJH

“i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable” jeongin says in a rush, dropping his hand

shit.

SHIT!

“no no no!! it’s fine, yes. please. that’s fine. that would be— that would nice. yes, very nice.”

wow you sounded almost hysterical

“good,” jeongin says simply

and leans in to softly press his lips to yours

you immediately kiss him back

and feel him smile against your mouth

just a moment later, he draws back, respectful, a question in his eyes

you chase his lips, not wanting to waste the precious opportunity to actually be kissing the yang jeongin!!

his hands come up to cup your neck

and you rest your palm against his chest, feeling the trembling beat of his heart

he tastes like like elderberry and cinnamon and clove all wrapped into one intoxicating milieu 

you could kiss him for days and never tire

after what seems like hours, you break apart

“y/n,” jeongin begins

“oh just shut up and keep kissing me,” you say without hesitation, surprised at your own boldness (again)

it seemed that was becoming a habit around jeongin, too

he doesn’t bother responding

and, instead, kisses you until you’re breathless

again, you feel like you were flying

* . ∗ ̥ ⋆ ݃ *♡٩( ｡⌒▽⌒｡)۶♡* ݃ ⋆ ̥∗ . *

[bluewritesao3]

Guilt or a shitty job?

Summary: You join the mandalorian on a vaguely described job to the back water planet of Vispoc, that holds far more than originally anticipated leading to a very much needed history lesson and some emotion

Warnings: I think this gets angsty towards the end (I’ve never written angst before so bare with me pls) . talk of consumption of fogs, Talk of canon events like order 66 and the empire. Talk of Jedi stuff. 

Taglist: Let me know if you wanna get tagged. Send me and ask or DM

Word Count: 3.5k (this was meant to be a dabble)

Masterlist | Cross Posted on A03

Gif credit: @johnboyuga​

Kneeling on the floor of the Crest, you meditated in the quiet of the ship with the less then talkative Mandalorian hidden away in the cockpit and the miniature Grand Master Yoda safely tucked away in his hammock. The quiet offered you the peace you needed to gain a greater control over your thoughts and emotions. “Peace. Serenity, Harmony. We must master ourselves before we can hope to master the force.” You muttered your last masters teaching to yourself with closed eyes basing in the steady silence. 

As the ship jolted and rocked beneath your knees, you centred yourself more ignoring the shifting metal biting into your knees. When you’d found the right peace and began to slip into a trance, the heavy thunking of boots echoed through the ship throwing you out of your almost trance-like meditation. “How far out are we?” You asked still knelt on the floor with your back still turned to the shiny Mandalorian.

He passed by almost too quietly, looking less shiny in the artificial lighting of the ship, you heard the quiet noise of the baby’s little sleeping compartment opening. “A hour at least,” He said distorted by his helmet as  as he ducked down into that you originally assumed was the Mandalorian’s sleeping space and was now the child’s. “We’ll be landing in a few.” 

You sighed and pushed off of the floor, wiping your hands on the course weave of your trousers. Watching the Mandalorian always surprised you that a man covered in impenetrable mental could be so careful with a baby. The Mandalorian carefully fished the child from his little hammock and situated the groggy blue bundle into the crook of his arm. You smiled at the sight, the child had a strong connection to the first and had a tendency to project life events into it, you’d originally assumed that he was doing it intentionally while the Mandalorian was away. The more you asked the child about these events the more he would immediately perk up and begin babbling as if he was glad you asked. “What’s the planet like?” You asked out of simple curiosity because it wasn’t like there were any windows in the hull of the Crest and since taking off you didn’t know any details other than the Mandalorian found work. 

“Find out for yourself,” The Mandalorian muttered, you could see he was far more focused on the child than anything you had to say. “Going to need you for this one anyway,” He added retreating back up into the cockpit with the child in hand, you followed quietly without knowing why the Mandalorian was traveling to the planet of Vispoc but you’d agreed to help the Mandalorian with whatever work he had going it was mainly babysitting but you’d fallen in love with the little green gremlins upon first meeting.

Ascending into the cockpit, the pair of you worked like a well oiled machine so that the Mandalorian was able to take off and flue without any interference with the child. Staring out of the window, you stared at the slowly approaching planet. It looked as if a large part of it was made up of water spotted with green land masses and white spieling clouds obscured quite a bit of the water and land masses. “Looks safe enough. Don’t want repeat of Trask.” You muttered stroking one of the child’s large petal shaped ears. 

The child cooed quietly as he played with his favourite control level knob, slowly turning it in his little clawed hands. Out of the corner of your eye you could see the swirling clouds wind in tighter on themselves like an incoming hurricane. “Slightly observation. Might wanna avoid using the jetpack when we’re planet side.” You warned side-eyeing the stoic lump of beskar casually tilt his helmet and give the planet a brief second look before pushing a few buttons.

“Says it’s water-rich and windswept. Got no major populations or star ports.” The Mandalorian uttered helmet barely picking up on the words as he looked at one of the screens embedded into the ships control panel. “Gonna be a bumpy landing.” He added and you took it as a sign to buckle your seat belt and clung to the child, his little arms raised in excitement when a few alarms began sounding as the Mandalorian began the bumpy decent onto the planets surface.

The closer the Crest go to the planets surface the more you could feel the planets attainment to the force. At first you thought it was the child of the winds you were sensing but it felt older like an ‘accumulation of energy’ as your late master called it when somewhere or someone had a strong connection to the force. “Do you feel that too?” You asked the child and received a delighted squeal as the Crest was battered by the winds and thrown to the left. 

Glancing out of the window at the fast approaching planet, you began bracing for an impact just like the frozen tundra wasteland the new republic had chases you both into. The control panel flashed and alarms beeped in time with your pounding heard as the Mandalorian yanked on the ship’s controls, slapped various buttons and flipped switches with a level of blind accuracy you’d only seen from your fellow Padawan’s during group training or sparing practice.

 As the Crest touched down on the rusted abandoned hanger, a withered painted sign proudly pronounced the planet’s name, Vispoc, while another clearly announced that the planet had some affiliation with the republic before the Empire came to power. You breathed a sigh of relief and drew in the clam the sense of peace you’d tried meditating on hours ago. “You good?” The Mandalorian asked sounding a little breathless and gently smoothed down the child's wispy white hairs, who’d seemingly enjoyed himself, maybe it was the sudden flashed of the escape pod that had put you on edge or maybe it was something entirely different. “Looks abandoned.” The Mandalorian observed taking in the dilapidated hander and strips of torn fabric hanging off of stacked cargo boxes. 

You nodded shakily and began unbuckling yourself with the wild settled on your shoulder in preparation of you having to single handedly climb down the ladder into the cock-pit.  “I’ll feed him then we can go. Okay.” You told to the mandalorian and leaving him to do whatever was needed in the cock-pit before the three of you ventured out into the cold of the planet. As you began your decent into the hull of the ship the child began to gargle a little at the mention of being fed. “Stars you’re a hungry thing aren’t you.” You commented as your feet touched the grated metal in the full. 

Settling the child on top of the largest cargo crate as you set about mashing up one of the ration bars and rehydrating it with a little water from a flask. Ration bars and recycled water was not a good combination and you could attest to it seeing as it was the only part of your diet for at least a year after the purge. While you worked the child babbled and made grabby hand towards the small tin rectangle you held in your hands even though he was sending images of a particular frog with blue and black stripes he’d probably seen before you arrived through his connection in the force. “Sorry bud. We don’t have any blue and black striped frogs or any amphibians at all.” You joked and offered him a spoon of mushed up, rehydrated ration bar, he took the first spoonful without an issue but after the second and third you think he’d began to realise that it wasn’t a froggy mush. 

He quietly grumbled aloud to himself in his own baby garble and frowned as a new spoon of ration bar mush was presented to him. “Listen, maybe I can convince your Dad you get some froggy pets.” You promised as you tried to sooth him by motioning towards where the Mandalorian was still hauled up doing post flight checks. “Then you can hunt ‘em yourself.” You added hopefully appearing the small grumpy child and offered the spoon again. 

As if he’d actually considered it the child made a noise of agreement and began wolfing down every spoon of ration bar mush fed to him. “Y/N, you really shouldn’t promise him such things.” The mandalorian’s modulated voice came out of nowhere in true Mandalorian fashion causing the baby to immediately perk up as if he’d been given a stim-canister. “I have too many pets as it is.” The Mandalorian added as he pulled open the locked metal cupboard where he kept all his weaponry and began to load himself up as the Crest’s ram opened up with a mechanical whirling. 

Depositing the child into his little cloth bag, “This looks questionable at best.” You muttered taking in the silvers of landscape revealed to you by the slow opening of the Crest’s ramp. Standing at the mouth of the ship, you slowly scanned the landscape, the hanger the Mandalorian had parked in seemed derelict from years of abandonment and seemed perfect for a smugglers crew to hide some coveted cargo. Noticing the out-cropping of a large temple-like structure was peaking out from behind the large mountain looming in the foreground. 

“Here,” The Mandalorian said holding out the hilt of your Lightsaber, the cold sunlight glinted off of the dull weathered durasteel illuminating some of the symbols carved int other space between the emitter and the switch. “Might need it.” He nodded to the Lightsaber he’d once referred to a laser sword.

Reaching for the long metal hilt was a lot harder than you originally anticipated. ‘This weapon is your life.’ Your late asters words echoed in your head. Feeling the Mandalorian’s visor trained on you was almost burning its T-shape into your face. With a shaky hand, you firmly grasped the all to familiar leather wrapped hilt of your lightsaber and just held it trying to become comfortable with its weight again. It’d been the same as the one you’d built when you’d been selected as a Padawan and taken part in the gathering on Ilum. You were sure your hesitation was as clear as Vispoc’s oceans. “If my master could see me now. Hesitant. They’d be so disappointed in me.” You explained shakily, your late master never got ashamed or angry when you put a foot wrong or hesitated but they were always disappointed when something sailed or went wrong. As you hooked it onto your repurposed belt and gun holster, the child snorted as if he was getting impatient with all the waiting around.

Descending the ships ramp, the weight of the baby on your left felt like nothing compared to the history of the weapon hanging on your belt rhythmically bouncing as you walked. With the Mandalorian at your side, the both of you approached the village at a slow speed, only stopping when the winds picked up significantly and blew particularly hard. The dark rock bit into the palms of your hands as you shuffled along the mountain trail, hand on the wall searching for something to steady yourself when the winds blew. Farther up the trail the Mandalorian waited quietly but impatient, you could see where the child’d picked it up from, as if the winds didn’t bother him in the slightest and you was convinced that it was all the beskar that was weighing him down. 

With your free hand holding the child’s side bag closer to your body, you had a much clearer view of the temple-like building that was peaking out from behind the mountain. Two large stone pillars flanked a set of double doors. Above the doors harsh winds swirled around one another like a brewing hurricane, in front of it was a raised dais with set stair leading down to what you assumed was the ground. Feeling the force trying to pull you in the direction of the temple, you brought up your shield again forcing the pull to detach itself from your being. “That part of me is too scared to even think about going there. Just yet.” You muttered into the wind and gently patted your Lightsaber as if you was trying to reassure yourself that you’d have to work up the courage to visit a temple again before became part of the living force. 

Once on the move again the unlikely pair came to the mouth of a mountain-side village. A small handful of the homes seemed to be build from cylindrical walls and topped with dome roofs, the whole place felt restless with the scrapes of brightly painted fabric banners whipped around in the significantly more gentle wind. Other homes were built in close quarters with one another jutting out slightly from the sides of the mountain, they followed the natural lines of the paths and the mountain faces. “What or who are we looking for, Mandalorian? ‘Cause this place looks abandoned.” You asked glancing around the village and grimaced when you caught sight of the warning on the wall signed with a blood red imperial symbol. 

The mandalorian sighed deeply as if he knew the whole trip was a bust. “He said it was in the village. Maybe there’s multiple villages.” He cursed clearly frustrated as you allowed yourself to slump down onto an outcrop of stone that seemed like a good place to sit.

“I doubt whatever you’re looking for is still here, Mandalorian.” You muttered promptly gesturing to the bright white grimy sighs screwed to the side of one of the cylindrical homes. It clearly stated that the village now belonged to the empire and all the occupants were in evacuate immediately or be arrested. “No doubt all the villages are under Imperial hold regardless of size.” You added  gently offering the baby some of the jerky you kept in one of the bouches tied to your bed. 

“Come one we’ll try the next on.” Was all the Mandalorian said before speedily continuing down the trail. 

Watching the Mandalorian’s gate, You could see the that everything was beginning to weigh on him because it was much long ago that he’d found out he was raised by religious zealots and you’d honestly contemplated leaving there and then given the Jedi’s history with that particular groups of Mandalorian’s. Even if you’d spent almost 3 decades in hiding the teachings of your late master wouldn’t relent, emotions only clouded one’s judgement. 

Hours down the line, you and the Mandalorian had traded off the task of carrying the child. The mandalorian now had the child’s side bag slung safely across his body with the child filling the safe space between both you and him. 

The pair had visited multiple villages across the planet, even come across a largely developed town that yielded little to no information about whatever if was the Mandalorian was looking for. You suspected that whatever he’d been tasked the retrieve was inside of the temple-like building you’d seen when visiting the first village. The force connection was only growing stronger and carried whispers with them, they gently scabbed the very edges of the shield you had built after feeling it at its strongest for the first time. The child clearly wasn’t as effected as you were, maybe it was because he hadn’t had as much training, you weren’t sure but it worried you given that the child was 50 and just about had a grasp on lifting things.

Sitting in the cantina listening to the quiet chatter and howling winds, you carefully fed the baby spoonful after spoonful of bone broth. Subtly trying to watch the Mandalorian out of you peripheral you watched him fidget and continuously open and close his fist almost like he was waiting for someone, antsy was the word your brain suppled you with. “What exactly is it we’re looking for?” You asked gently wiping away any spilt broth from the child’s face. Waiting patiently, you took a sip of the water from the cup in front of you and watched the Mandalorian silt his helmet as if he was contemplating telling you what exactly they were doing on this windy hellhole. “You said you’d might need me. That implies that it’s something Jedi related.” You surmised slowly piecing together the small fragments of information you’d collected on the journey from one village to the next. 

“It’s Jedi. I just don’t know where to look.” The Mandalorian huffed laying his hand flat on the table. “I’m open to suggestion,” He added allowing his shoulders to drop a little like he was relieved to share the job with you. “The Jedi are a mystery at most. Why doesn’t anyone know anything?” He asked sounding completely lost and a small part of you was itching to teach someone about the ways of the Jedi but the much larger part of you that was acting purely on instinct screamed that revealing such information would only get more killed. 

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you slowly began drawing circles on the table avoiding the black t-visor staring straight at you unrelenting. “Because we’ve been wiped from history,” You began to explain hearing the child whine a little but you pushed on. “Our temples had fallen into disrepair or burned to the ground. The Empire sentenced us to death and denied a trial.” You explained farther remembering all the time you’d spent running and begging for your life, all those you’d cut through just to survive to see the next sun rise. 

Without seeing the Mandalorian’s face, you couldn’t tell what expression he held, sometimes you were envious of the emotionlessness the armour offered him but he sat silently and listened as you rambled. Casting a quick glance around the cantina because anyone worth their information knew that cantina walls had ears. Always. “As the Republic fell the Empire rose and wiped us away with it. Anyone that’s still left knows better than the out themselves.” Memories of the great purge flashed across your memory, the stand-off between your late master and the commander and the clones chasing you across the length of the republican cruiser. It’d be enough to put any 12 year old into hiding and to never some out again. “Our relics became decoration and prices to be won. Our Lightsaber’s were another’s trophy.” You babbled nervously as you ignored the small green hand of the child clinging to your sleeve or the forced wave of calm being pushed onto you by the child. 

The Mandalorian tilted his head noting that he was listening and absorbing all the information you were providing him with, the way he stared at you when you finished simply said ‘but why?’ and in all honesty you couldn’t give him an answer. “The thing I’m being paid to find. Theres a possibility that it’s Jedi.” He explained and you’d never felt such a strong urge to fling someone across the cantina and through your blooming anger, you nodded in understanding that the Mandalorian needed to make money some how and if it wasn’t chasing bail jumpers or debts half ways across the galaxy it had to be something Jedi related. Maybe this was the biggest fuck you to the Jedi from the Mandalorian’s. “If I’d known I wouldn’t have taken the job.” He added guilt dripping from the words even if they were mechanical. 

“Is that why you gave me my saber back,” You began planting elbows on the table quietly seething with something akin to anger. “Out of guilt for taking the job?” You questioned staring directly into the black abyss of the Mandalorian’s t-visor.  “Be clear with me Mandalorian. Was it guilt.” You demanded anger flaring a little, knowing full well that the Mandalorian had been adamant on him keeping your Lightsaber locked up out of harms way or at least till he trusted you to carry it and keep it out of the kids reach. 

“We should go.” was all the Mandalorian said as he rose from his seat, took the child and excited the cantina to go back out into the drab wind-swept landscape leaving you sitting alone at the table looking for the peace you’d been able to find before landing. 

Gingerly resting a hand on the hilt off your Lightsaber and glanced around wondering if anyone had noticed it on your person. “Memories of an old friend.” You whispered dropping the shield and walking out of the cantina, the Mandalorian stood of to the side holding hands with the smaller version Grand Master Yoda. The pull of the force called to you in a way that you’d never experienced since the gathering on Ilum and being on the surface of coruscant. “If we’re going to a temple. Stay close and ignore the whispers.” You warned and set of in the direction of the temple wishing the spirits there were at least laid the rest and not running rampant through the temple. 

[teumefromthesea]

love yourself a little

one-shot sukhoon fic. slash M/M. rated M (Mature)

tags: hurt/comfort, fluff, established relationship, secret relationship

based on/heavily referenced: hyunsuk’s earpiece accident on treasure’s inkigayo debut stage captured on his fancam & T.M.I episode 12 (pls watch both videos first before reading)

summary:

“choi hyunsuk said his debut stage is both exciting and regrettable. well, park jihoon is here to prove him wrong.

or

my sukhoon take on that earpiece shenanigan and what happened after it.”

read below or on Ao3

 Blinding lights, ragged breaths. Choi Hyunsuk stares at the unblinking eye of the camera. Their pre-recorded debut performance has finally come to an end.

 Empty cheers, parched throat. Choi Hyunsuk stares at the fallen earpiece in his hand. He thought of crushing it into pieces before remembering where he is now, who he is now. Not another YG trainee or survival shows contestant anymore, but a real, freshly-debuted idol.

 Huh. An idol who needs to get his head together because apparently, not even five years of blood, sweat, and tears could prepare one not to lose his earpiece on stage.

  Did he ruin their debut?

 The green-haired leader walks with the other Treasure members, following a line back to the make-up room. While others cry loudly in relief, Hyunsuk silently cries in disappointment-- at no one but himself.

  -

  Nothing gets past Park Jihoon's eyes; not the awkward hand gesture Junkyu often does when dancing, not the small red dot of the stage cameras that Jeongwoo had a hard time following, not even a flicker of disappointment that reflects on Hyunsuk's eyes after their debut stage. It may have gone for a moment when they're on an interview, but as soon as the camera stops rolling, it flickers back across the eldest's face.

 So Jihoon plays his part. Fantastically, if he so may add.

 He becomes the Park 'happy virus' Jihoon that everybody and their mothers love and leads the vlogging. Well, to be fair, it's fairly easy for him to do this. Look pretty (which is given), talk a lot, tease other members, give some smiles, tease another member, and end it with either a wink or a kiss to the camera. Both if he's feeling generous.

 Of course, the cheerful atmosphere is not something Jihoon creates on his own. It helps how all the members are still feeling the 'adrenaline rush' after performing and watching themselves on National television. All the members, except one, who's by the end of the vlog, is talking quietly with Mashiho on the other end of the sofa. Mashiho looks concerned as the main dancer probably senses something wrong with their eldest hyung. But Jihoon can bet everything on his bank account that Hyunsuk probably shrugs it off as nothing.

 Choi Hyunsuk is not the type of person that burden people with his problems, which is a blessing and a pain in the ass at the same time.

  -

  Treasure has no time to spare; such is the idol life. It's back to practice again after Inkigayo. It's tiring, but for Hyunsuk, training is his safe haven from bad thoughts. His brain can finally focus on something else than replaying moment after moment when--

  Stop it.

 So, Hyunsuk trains, hard. Hard enough that each of his choreographed moves has a little more edge than usual. Hard enough that he knows his body going to regret it tomorrow morning. He trains hard but also still making sure to keep his emotions in check.

 Because Hyunsuk believes the members deserve the strong side of him now than ever. A strict, calm leader that can lead and prepare them for countless stages and chaos ahead.

 The members don't deserve a weak Choi Hyunsuk, much less a man that manages to fail his group on their debut stage.

  -

  It's another six hours of training before Treasure can finally go back to the dorm. Some of the members don't waste any time to pack and leave. Understandable, since it has been a long day. Jihoon too can't wait to reunite with his bed.

 "See you tomorrow, everyone!"

 The door closes, leaving only Jihoon, Yedam, and Doyoung in the training room.

 "You're not leaving with the others?" Yedam asks Jihoon after a while, seeing the older is still lying down on the couch.

 "Nah, still tired. You two go on ahead."

 Doyoung gives him a slight nod, before asking the million-dollar question, "Hyunsuk-hyung looks kinda sad today, you know why, hyung?"

  Here we go. Jihoon is so ready to feign sleep.

 Thankfully, Yedam is an active listener. "Oh, really? I didn't notice it. Is he going back already?"

 "Hm, I think he's still talking to our manager." Doyoung looks back to Jihoon. "Hyung, do you know something?"

  Sigh. Jihoon pulls down his cap further to cover his eyes. "Nothing's going on, I think he's fine. You're just tired, Doyoung-ah. Go home, take a hot shower, get some sleep. Tomorrow we have three interviews and we need to be ready by 9 AM."

 "Ah! Right, we have a morning schedule... " It seems even Yedam is exhausted enough to forget their agenda. That rarely happens, by the way. The main vocalist is already halfway across the room, pulling Doyoung's hand while the other just meekly follow. "We'll be going now, see you tomorrow, hyung!"

 "Bye-bye, be careful."

 If Jihoon feels bad by pretending not to see the suspecting glances Doyoung throws at him before the door closes, well, he can always blames it on Hyunsuk.

  -

  "Jihoonie?"

 Jihoon opens his eyes to see the man of the hour finally shows himself. The eldest hovering above him, smelling like sweat and fatigue and anguish. Everything about Choi Hyunsuk is so clear to Jihoon, he kinda wonders how does anyone not get it.

 "Hyung."

 "I thought you already went back with others."

 "Nope, still here. What about you?"

 "Uh, just had one last rundown for tomorrow with the manager."

 "Oh. Any changes?"

 "No, still the same, 9 AM sharp."

 "Okay."

 Hyunsuk hums back before settling on the floor and leans back to the couch. The eldest looks worn out than usual, with eyes empty looking back at themselves in the mirror across the room.

 From where Hyunsuk sits, Jihoon's hand could easily reach and play with Hyunsuk's windswept grass of a hair if he wants. The thought is tempting. But he doesn't. 

 Instead--

 "Still caught up about the earpiece?"

 The eldest keeps his quiet, but can't hide his frown.

 "Come on, hyung. It's just one small thing."

 Hyunsuk lets out a long sigh, like he's done with the conversation already, but Park Jihoon takes it as an opportunity to sharpen his people skill.

 "You still performed great. Everyone performed great. I bet nobody notices it."

 "There's a fancam, Jihoonie."

 Jihoon scoffs. "You haven't read the comments, have you? People don't care, hyung. They care more about you being sad and depressed about it than the stupid earpiece."

 "But I care!"

 Silence fills the air. It's not every day the eldest raises his voice outside practice hours. It took Jihoon a couple of years to learned that it's a Choi Hyunsuk thing to bottle everything up until it got full and everything comes out in an abrupt rush. So, yes, Jihoon understands. Of course, he does, he loves the man. He'd do anything for him even if it meant proving him wrong.

 Jihoon finally sits up and turns to Hyunsuk. The eldest buries his face in one hand, looking dejected than before. Probably already regretting his sudden outburst.

  Typical nice guy Hyunsuk-hyung. Jihoon rolls his eyes before taking a hold of Hyunsuk's hand, forcing the eldest to face him.

 "Hey. You know what's my role in the group, right?"

 The eldest frowns deeper. "Of course I know, why would you even ask-"

 "Then listen to me when I said you are wrong if you thought your tiny, little accident will somehow-- I don't know, damage our debut or the group reputation or whatever else you're thinking right now."

 Jihoon makes sure to steadily hold both Hyunsuk's hand and gaze while he's spitting the truth but goddammit it's tough, especially when Hyunsuk has that kicked puppy dog look that appears whenever he's upset with himself.

 Jihoon sighs before muttering, "Honestly, you're thinking like that, doesn’t make any sense to me, but because I love you, hyung, I'm gonna humor you, okay? So believe me when I said it will not damage anything-- anything except your beauty sleep because you think too much. Next, you're gonna get panda eyes like me. And then you're gonna have to apologize to Jaehyuk, our genius content creator, because you're gonna have to change your emoji from pig to panda. And now Treasure will have two pandas. Male and female, maybe. You can be the female since you're the 'eomma' and I'm the 'appa'. Maybe you can add purple ribbon to your emoji and--"

 "I get it, I get it! Stop talking, what the hell..." Hyunsuk giggles while slightly pulls Jihoon's hand to put a brake to his rambles. 

 The man himself doesn't even realize he's been rambling. "You ask for it!"

 The room is suddenly rich with small, quiet laughs. One hand still holds another, before Hyunsuk decides to tangled their fingers together. Hyunsuk's hand always feels so small compared to Jihoon's. It's nice, the younger leader thought. They've been so busy preparing their debut, Jihoon forgets when was the last time they held hands. He misses this.

 But their debut comes first, they both know that. They've been preparing their whole life for today, after all.

 "Hyung--" Jihoon starts again, "--there are still tons of things to do tomorrow. And the day after. And the day, day after that. We're gonna be so fucking busy, you're gonna forget about today, I promise."

 Hyunsuk chuckles. "Yeah, I know." The eldest let out another long sigh, "I'm stupid, aren't I? To be sad just because of this."

 "Yup."

 "Geez, you don't have to be so honest, Jihoonie."

 "You kinda are though." Jihoon just shrugs off the glare Hyunsuk sends him. "You know I can't lie."

 "Yeah, yeah." And here comes the pouting Choi Hyunsuk.

 "Don't do that."

 "Do what?"

 Jihoon tries to imitate Hyunsuk's pout, of course, since it's his special ability and annoys the leader more. "This. Makes you look like an angry baby."

 "Ya!"

 "Makes me want to kiss you, too, Hyunsukkie." Jihoon leans slowly toward Hyunsuk with that playful smirk that makes the man both frustrating and attractive at the same time.

 "What... we're in the goddammn training room! Ya! I can't with you sometimes."

 Hyunsuk playfully shoves him away but without untangling their hands. Like Jihoon, Hyunsuk also misses the secret intimacy between them.

 Hyunsuk takes another glance at their tangled hands before bringing it to his cheek. 

 "But thank you, Jihoonie. For everything."

 No words can describe how soft Jihoon feels right now. Hyunsuk's smile is so sweet and bright, Jihoon swears even the stars got nothing on his dear hyung.  

 Jihoon holds him just a little bit tighter, whispering promises they definitely can keep.

 "Don't worry, hyung. We're gonna be spectacular."

 "Yes. Yes, we will."

  -

  The elevator door opens on the floor of Hyunsuk's dorm. Jihoon walks the eldest up to the front door before pulling the other for a goodnight kiss. This is nothing new; a ritual they've always done whenever they come home together. Usually, it's just a peck on the lips since they're out in the open and anybody could run into them, but tonight-- tonight is different. Maybe because of today's incident, maybe because it's the day their dream finally come true, or maybe because they just secretly missed each other so much.

 Tonight's their kiss lasts a little longer. Jihoon gently tugs the other lips, while Hyunsuk caresses his soft, pink hair. Strong arms wrap Hyunsuk tight, mouth asking the eldest permission to dip deeper. Hyunsuk is breathless but can't help but indulge him. He wants Park Jihoon too, he always does, for as long as he remembers.

 Cold lips devour him; slow and passionate. For once, not caring about anything but each other. Like the world is theirs to begin with.

 Maybe it will be theirs, today's their first step, after all.

[zigtheeortega]

as good as gold

✿ pairing: mal x mc

✿ word count: 2971

✿ tags: @roguemal ; @violinet ; @nickyvalentinos ; @adrixnrxines ; @senatorraines​

✿ author’s note: okay so this is honestly the weirdest coincidence... i started working on this fic back in early march, and i abandoned it bc it was originally going to be smut, but i just never got around to finishing the actual smut because i wasn’t feeling it, and i wasn’t that confident in the plot. i totally forgot about it, until i read today’s chapter... and i saw parallels between this fic, that i’d abandoned, and the diamond scene/elite skill scene today with mal.

it made me a lot more confident in this because it made me feel like i genuinely understand mal’s character more than i ever thought? (there are parallels between his list of favorite things, stealth, the sneaking around, etc.) anyways, i wrapped it up and thought i’d post it; thank u andrew for writing one of my favorite characters ever and confirming actions and dialogue i thought he’d do ! andrew stans rise. (hope u enjoy pls lmk if u liked it!)

“Thank Gods they sent us. I’m dying to stretch my legs,” Mal said, tossing the gold coins in the air, the clinking of the metal ringing out against the walls of the abandoned safe house.

They walked towards the entrance, the fresh air hitting them, and their lungs were grateful for the relief. The mildewed stench had been unbearable, but they had to suffer through it. The bounty on their head was enough to turn anyone against them.

Their collective rations weren’t enough to keep them fed. With Tyril being the perpetrator, they agreed it was safe enough for Mal and Zilyana to visit the marketplace, as long as they laid low.

“You’re telling me,” she smiled, inhaling deeply. The scent of the damp, mossy alleyway was incredible in comparison to the moldy smell of their hideout.

She shielded her eyes, squinting at the intense light. They had not seen the sun in days, so the warm blanket was a semblance of hope. She’d rescue Kade soon enough; the warmth on her face proved that all hope wasn’t lost.

They walked in silence, weaving through the alleyways towards the marketplace. Mal stopped abruptly at the end of the alleyway, bracing his forearm against her chest to keep her from going any further.

She caught herself gaping at him as he peeked around the corner a couple of times. His windswept hair framed his face beautifully, curling around his defined jaw, the tips resting neatly against his beard.

He glanced at her from the corner of his eye, a smirk on his face. “Caught you staring.”

She averted her eyes, looking upwards. “Was not.”

“The blush in your cheeks betrays you.”

There was no hiding the violet heat creeping across her face and ears. She’d been drawn to his charismatic nature, his carefree, adventurous attitude one that she envied. He owed nothing to anyone, and he never thought twice about his perception to others.

But underneath the snarky, flirtatious facade, lurked layers of melancholia that she wanted so desperately to uncover.

He cocked his head towards the opening, signaling the coast was clear. “Thought I heard something. We’re safe.”

She scoffed, following closely behind him. “Your definition of safe is ‘not currently being chased’?”

He laughed breathily, and shrugged. “You hit the nail on the head. I’m like a honey trap for trouble.”

The sound of bartering shoppers hit them before the smell of fish and sweat did. “What’s the plan? They might recognize us,” she whispered in his ear, acutely aware of the proximity of their bodies.

She noticed him pocket the gold Tyril had given them for the food. “Mal, what –”

“Just trust me on this, kit. I’ve probably stolen as much food that’s in this marketplace, twice over. I can get us the food and we can keep the loot.” He tried stepping forward, but she grabbed a fistful of the back of his shirt.

“Or we could just stick to the original plan and use the gold for our food and go,” she said, tugging him backward.

“As long as we can have a quick escape route, it’ll be seamless,” he said, turning to meet her eye. “Trust me, Zilyana.”

And she did.

The mischievous look in his eye was enough to send her heart into a tailspin, but his mention of her name was what sealed the deal. It was a rarity that Mal traded in her nickname for her real name, so when he used it, she knew he was being honest for once.

She didn’t know what part of her compelled him to take her under his “wing”. Maybe he was tired of being alone. Maybe he was desperately crying out for someone to get to know the real him. Maybe he’d been calling out for so long, and she was the first to answer.

“I trust you, Mal.”

His eyes softened. She knew he hadn’t heard that in a long time. “Follow my lead.”

At the end of the last alleyway, there was a large fabric trade stand, with various cut and uncut fabrics of different colors and materials, finished garments hung from a clothesline.

He tossed a dagger into the wooden scaffolding holding up the stand, startling the old man at the booth. When he stood to inspect it, Mal snagged two black cloaks.

“These cloaks serve as both a disguise and a red herring. If we’re caught, ditch the cloaks as fast as you can. Then we can walk freely without anyone knowing what we looked like in the first place,” he said, slipping his hood on. “It’ll be a piece of cake.”

“And we’re distracting them and snagging their food? Seems cheap,” she said, putting her hood up, annoyed at her ears poking into the fabric.

“You’re distracting them, and there’s a reason old tricks still work, kit.”

----

Zilyana used her natural seduction to trap a few unsuspecting suckers, and Mal snagged the food, storing it on the roof of a taller building, just high enough to not be spotted from other rooftops if they laid down.

“I’ve never had an apple before,” she purred, stroking the vendor’s arm with the tips of her slender fingers. It was a horrible lie, but it was working.

“Y-you haven’t?” he stammered, clearly flustered.

“I’m not from around here,” she smiled, leaning forward, exposing just enough of her collarbone and the top of her breasts to reel him in.

“I don’t normally do this, but this one is on me,” he smiled timidly, handing her a bright red apple. Little did he know, Mal had been snagging item after item from his stand behind his back.

She took it from him, brushing her fingers across his knuckles. “You’re too kind. I owe you.” 

He blushed furiously, looking anywhere but her face. “I wouldn’t mind taking you out to my favorite tavern down the road––”

“Oh, I’m leaving town tomorrow,” she pouted, batting her eyes. “I wish we could’ve spent more time together.”

Mal emerged from the alleyway, watching closely. She didn’t know if he was capable of jealousy, but his nonchalance vanished when the vendor asked her on a date.

“I’m closing up shop soon, if you’re willing to wait for me.” He said, the blush still lingering on his cheeks.

“Balmed is that you? Oh my Gods, it’s been so long!” She exclaimed, looking at Mal, who still watched from the shadows.

The vendor turned quickly, noticing no one was there. He looked back at her, then double-taked, scrutinizing his stand of apples. “Hey…”

She sprinted past him, kicking the back of his knees so he crumpled, but it didn’t stop him from yelling, “Thief!” at the top of his lungs.

Mal grabbed her hand, whisking her down the dark alleyway. The sun had dipped just below the buildings, making the alleys a perfect getaway.

They rounded the corner, ready to discard their cloaks, but they spotted guards barreling towards them from both directions.

“What do we do?” She practically cried, gripping his shoulder.

“There’s two of us, and four of them, kit. You do the math,” he smirked, unsheathing his dagger.

“But that makes it sound like we should run–”

He whipped his arm forward, sending a dagger into the nearest guard’s shoulder before decking the other in the jaw.

Zilyana knew that Mal’s sheer dumb luck was part of the reason he was a notable thief. He somehow managed to survive in every situation, like a rodent.

She drew her sword and slashed the guard in front of her in one fluid sweep, kicking the other in the chest, sending him sprawling.

“That was a little too easy,” she trailed off, her senses sparking. She had no control over her elven senses, but they usually came to her when she needed them most, similar to a fight or flight response.

“I think the guards have us cornered but we haven’t met them yet. I can hear footsteps.”

Mal’s eyebrows rose. “We’re completely surrounded?”

“Yes.”

“Alright.”

“Alright? What are we gonna do?” she asked, hysteria begging to burst through her calm demeanor.

“The rooftop where we stashed the goods isn’t far away. I’d say five buildings or so over. After they pass, we’ll have to jump from roof to roof –”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. I’m not even in the right garments to jump right now,” she shook her head, gesturing to her casual dress.

“You’re just gonna have to flash the entirety of Port Parnassus,” he teased, turning to the wall next to him, covered in mossy vines.

He grabbed onto a vine and started climbing, her on his heels. The footsteps were within Mal’s hearing range by the time he got to the rooftop, so he extended an arm for her to grab.

She gripped his forearm, pushing herself off of the wall. It sent her flying into Mal, the momentum too much for the short distance. They fell over, her landing on top of him, chest to chest, their noses nearly touching.

She could see a snarky quip forming on his lips, but it never came. She watched his smug grin dissolve into admiration, his gaze softening as he glanced back and forth from her eyes to mouth. The lingering rays of sunlight struck their rooftop, hitting Mal’s face, transforming his dark brown eyes into a stunning liquid pool of amber, flecks of gold she’d never noticed before reflecting the light.

He reached up, pressing a gloved hand on her face, gently stroking her jaw. She leaned into the embrace, closing her eyes and sighing just low enough for him to hear.

A low growl rumbled through his chest, the vibrations passing through her own. He watched her, transfixed, through half lidded eyes.

“Have you always been this beautiful, kit? Or have I just been too stupid to notice?” He whispered, tenderly gripping her chin with his thumb and pointer finger.

She smiled, holding back a laugh as they heard the guards clamor down an alley nearby. “I don’t know if I’d say you were stupid…”

With his eyes trained on her lips, she leaned down, closing the distance between them, her parted lips meeting his. He could’ve frozen up – he could’ve pushed her away. Instead, he tangled his gloved hand through her hair, deepening the kiss.

He snaked his arm around her waist, his grip firm and commanding. He tasted sweeter than she could’ve imagined, his scent even more intoxicating up close.

He pulled away, searching her features. She couldn’t tell if he was thinking she’d regretted it that fast, but she was determined to ease his mind. Zilyana recognized the walls he put up; they were familiar because they mirrored her own. 

“Anything we do from this point on, I won’t regret. Don’t worry,” she whispered, stroking her thumb across his beard.

He looked at her like he was truly seeing her for the first time. Like he was safe with her. Like he wanted her too. 

The guards passed through the alleyway next to them, the clanking of their armor drowning out Mal and Zilyana’s labored breaths.

He pulled her close, tucking her underneath his head, his arms circling her protectively until the guards passed.

They stayed in the same position, embracing, until the sun set, making way for the midnight skyline freckled with glimmering stars.

After the street lanterns were lit, and the residents of Parnassus were tucked into bed, they were momentarily safe enough to discard the cloaks and sneak back to the rooftop where their food was stashed.

Once they were on the rooftop, Mal gestured to her to walk towards the edge of the building. She looked out at the edge of the port city, the vast body of water rippling, the waves flicking calmly against the docks, the water reflecting the moonlight.

“I never get tired of views like these,” he sighed, snatching an apple and taking a bite. “I love gold, but I love a pretty view more.”

She eyed him, brows furrowed. “Alright, I love gold more. But scenery is a close second.”

“Mal the Magnificent is getting candid? Color me surprised,” she grinned, watching his expression match her own.

“What can I say? You’ve grown on me, kit.”

And that was all the validation she needed. She was chipping away at his facade brick-by-brick, and one day his defense would crumble. 

She’d be the only one to witness the beautiful destruction.

She crossed the distance between them, facing him while he chewed and swallowed his mouthful of apple. Juice dribbled down his beard, and she wanted so badly to taste the sweet flavor of his lips again.

“You’ve grown on me, too,” she said, reaching for his hand with her own, hooking a finger around his. She used the other hand to delicately swipe her thumb across his facial hair, drying his face of apple juice.

He watched her in awe, looking at her as if she were the only being in the world.

“We should probably get back,” she whispered, refusing to break eye contact. “They might be worried.”

“Yeah, they might be worried,” he repeated, still staring at her, squeezing her finger with his own. “But I think it’s better we stay the night.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want to miss a second of seeing the moonlight on your skin,” he said, eyes roaming over her face.

Her face heated, breaking eye contact first. She knew the violet tones in her cheeks would betray her calm exterior once again.

“I could look at you for hours…” he trailed off, stepping closer towards her.

Their bodies were barely touching, their faces close enough so that the wind made the tips of his hair tickle her cheek.

He took his leather gloves off, revealing his scarred, calloused hands, likely from the years of training with blades. He cupped her face in his bare palms, the heat from his hands counteracting the chill of the sea breeze.

It was the first time he touched her with his bare hands, and she relished in the contact. It was a feeling of intimacy she hadn’t felt before.

She’d been abandoned by her birth parents and adopted by a human family. When they passed, she felt not only the tremendous loss of her parents, but the longing to be wanted by those who willingly left her before.

She saw so much of herself in Mal. The classic signs of abandonment issues were blatant in his personality. He wouldn’t admit it to her then, but he’d grow comfortable with her and come around. And she’d be there for him.

She watched as he leaned in tentatively. She closed the gap between them, pressing her mouth firmly against his, wrapping her arms around his waist.

He melted in her grip, a low groan coming from his throat at the initial kiss. She parted her lips, begging to taste him again.

She drug her hands around his torso, meeting at his belt buckle, unlatching and untying until they fell to the ground with a clank. She slid her hands underneath the tail of his tunic, pulling upwards. She was met with the firm muscles of his stomach, a soft tuft of hair from his navel to the waist of his pants.

“Zilyana, I…” he breathed, eyes half lidded.

“I want you,” she finished, pulling back just enough so that she could meet his gaze.

His hair had become unruly, whipped by the sea breeze and the momentum from running through the alleys of Parnassus. Loose strands framed his face like vines on a stone wall, begging for her hands to wrangle them.

“You sure you want this? We can pretend like it didn’t happen when we go back,” he said. She detected a twinge of uneasiness in his voice, like he didn’t know what he wanted from her.

“We can work it out later, Mal,” she whispered, running her hands farther up his chest.

He groaned, both because he was trying to maintain responsibility and his body was responding to her touch. “You’re right. Fuck it.”

He kissed her fervently, ripping at the laced-up ribbons on the back of her dress. The air between their bodies crackled, their unbridled sexual tension finally reaching its climactic end.

She tried helping him out of his clothes, but stopped after a few failed attempts. “For a simple guy, you have a complex wardrobe.”

He laughed, the deep bass of his voice barely audible over the sound of the waves. “I can be flashy when I want to be.”

He stripped his tunic off, then his boots, before helping her slide out of her dress. Her undergarments were thin, just thin enough so that he got a glimpse of her naked body underneath.

He rested his hands on her waist, pulling him towards her. She grazed her fingers across his stomach and lower back, lightly touching the dozens of scars. He had a story behind each scar, and she wanted to hear every one.

He eased her onto the stone, gently, like she was as fragile as a priceless heirloom.

“Look at you, Zilyana… so beautiful,” he whispered, a hint of a smirk on his lips. “I told you I like a pretty view.”

She searched his eyes, the trace of golden flecks gone with the sunlight, and she smiled internally. She was learning to love gold, too, as greedy as it sounded.

----

[minyoongijjangjjangmanboongboong]

You’ve Got Mail: Jungkook One Shot

Request: Hi! I really love your writings! If your requests are still open, can you pls write a Jungkook story? Ex-lovers in high school where he broke up with her because he got bored or something like that. Then they met again in university and wants her back again. (Angst but happy ending pls). Thank you!

Description: After a messy breakup with high school heartthrob Jeon Jungkook, you swore off dating once you got into college. Even though it left you lonely, it was easier than being hurt. But one fateful blind date changes everything for you, and you realize that maybe isolation isn’t the answer either.

Word Count: 12.9k

Pairing: Jungkook x (gender neutral) Reader

Tags: Barista!Reader, Graphic Design Student!Jungkook, Non-Idol!Au, Ex-Lovers to Enemies to Lovers (? I guess? Haha)

Genre: Whole lotta angst, fluffy ending

Warnings: None!

A/N: It’s been two weeks since I’ve posted wtf!! But I’m back and less than a week away from the Rose Bowl concert, holy cow. This ask has been in my inbox for MONTHS, so I need to say thank you to the anon who sent it for waiting so long! I really enjoyed this request, so I hope you guys like it too!

Also, if you want to follow me on Twitter please do so! My handle is @/plzpunchmebts. I would post a link, but rumor has it Tumblr killed links and I’m not taking any chances. I’ll be posting concert videos and pics there, so please give it a follow if you’d like to see that!

- Mercury

You were never too keen on blind dates. Everything about them felt…artificial. It wasn’t that you were a romantic, not especially, but you had to admit that being forced on a date by meddlesome friends took some of the magic out of dating. When Sua had mentioned a cute new boy in her class who was too busy studying to date, you had to admit the red flags began waving in your mind. Of course, you could relate. College was taxing and it was difficult to find time to even eat three meals, let alone date. Perhaps if things had cropped up organically, you’d have been more excited. But the forced union was a little cumbersome.

The nerves and the insecurity and the fear, none of it was especially fun. But Sua had been adamant that the two of you would hit it off, and with her eyes round and expectant, her brows raised, and her lips pouted, you really didn’t have any room to deny her. You figured one night of discomfort was better than months of guilt, and even though you figured things wouldn’t work out with this mystery man, you’d humor your friend. After all, making friends in college wasn’t easy.

Making friends in general wasn’t easy.

You sighed as you waited with your chilly hands clasped around your phone, standing at the entrance to the subway station where Sua had instructed. The mouth of the entrance was muggy with exiting passengers as the wave of people clambered up the steep stairs and onto the street, lined on all sides by buildings that reached the sky. Every now and again, someone would graze their shoulder against yours without apology, or perhaps step on the toe of your sneaker. You took a few inching steps backward, glancing over your shoulder to be sure you wouldn’t hit anyone. Not that they’d care. You backed up until you were out of the streamline and instead took up a quieter spot beside a fish cake vendor.

You checked your phone once again, furrowing your brow. Sue said eleven, didn’t she? You pulled up your messages and scrolled through carefully, head tilted to the side as you read her most recent text.

Sua: He said he’s running a little late, but he told me to tell you to wait.

You: I am waiting…

Sua: He says he’s sorry and that the subway is close to the terminal now.

You: That’s good.

Sua: He says sorry again.

Sua: You know, this is kinda dumb. Let me just give you his number so you can text him.

Sua: 51-XXX-XX24

You pursed your lips and crossed your arms over your chest. Sua was right, anyway. Making her your proxy wouldn’t really do you much good, considering she wasn’t here to help you in person. But wouldn’t it be a bit forward to just…text this guy? You didn’t know him yet. And besides, what could you say that Sua hadn’t? Hey, I’m doing this out of obligation, sorry to disappoint! or you can just go back home now and we can tell Sua things didn’t work out. You shook your head and rubbed your fingertip along the screen of your phone, working your lower lip between your teeth. You were just looking for an out. And really, you didn’t want to bail after Sua had gone through the trouble of setting things up. Still, just texting a stranger was a little…

But then again, he’d agreed to the blind date too, hadn’t he? It wasn’t like you were someone he was forced to talk to. He’d come on his own accord. Rubbing your bare forearm in the spring breeze with one hand, you used the other to tap the phone number and save it and, with only your index finger, drafted a slow message.

You: Hey, I’m Sua’s friend. I think we’re supposed to have a blind date today? Haha. That sounded kind of awkward…

Within seconds, your phone dinged with an incoming text and you jumped, nervous, before glancing at your phone once more.

Blind Date: Oh! Haha, hello. It wasn’t awkward at all. Ahh, I’m really sorry I’m late. I wasn’t looking where I was going and I bumped into a cyclist and he gave me an earful so I missed the first subway.

Blind Date: But I’m one stop away! You’re outside exit 2 right?

You: Yeah! I’m next to a fish cake stall. I’m wearing a red blouse, so you can’t miss me :-)

Damn, you thought, was that smiley face too much? You picked at the skin around your nail and glanced up to see the near-constant flow of people was still in full force, the subway exit spitting pedestrians onto the cement sidewalk in droves. You squinted a little, trying to keep a good visual on the staircase leading out. With a sigh, you leaned over your bag to slip your phone inside when it buzzed again. Despite yourself, your heart raced and you eagerly unlocked it to see if he’d responded.

Blind Date: Cute! Let’s get some fish cakes then before we go to the movie.

Blind Date: Ah, subway just pulled in! I’m only a few sweaty staircases away now~

Blind Date: :P

Without meaning to, you smiled a little. Your nerves settled as you leaned on your right foot, grinning softly at your screen. He seemed like a good guy, at least. You were relieved. After the jerks you dated in high school, you’d sworn off dating for a while. Maybe trying to cleanse your palate. It was…oddly refreshing to be talking to someone who didn’t make you feel like you weren’t all that important. Like you were disposable.

Still smiling, you responded with a simple text.

You: I’m excited to meet you :-D

“Y/N?” asked a familiar voice from beside you.

A voice that sent chills up your spine, and not the good kind.

You stiffened and turned, eyes wide, toward the one person you’d been hoping fervently to avoid for life. Standing with his big, brown eyes wide and his hair slightly windswept, Jeon Jungkook stared down at you like you were a ghost. Your lips parted and, heart hammering, you opened and closed your jaw a few times. What were you supposed to say to the boy who broke your heart when you were sixteen?

Years later and he was still the heartthrob he’d been back then, only now he looked…like a man. His cheekbones were prominent, strong jaw, heavy brow and a serious, toned build like he’d lived at the gym in the years between your meetings.

You swallowed hard and slipped your phone in your bag, crossing your arms and thus closing yourself to him. You glanced up at him with a furrowed brow. “Jungkook,” you said with a sigh. “I’m actually waiting here for someone and I don’t want him to get the wrong idea, so if you could-,”

“You’re on a blind date?” asked Jungkook, lips agape.

You shrugged, glancing down the sidewalk toward the open maw of the subway exit, squinting in the hopes of catching your date’s attention. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Wait, but-,”

You sighed and shut him up with a single look his way, sharp, venomous. “I’m gonna to wait someplace else if you’re gonna keep standing beside me.”

“No, it’s not-,”

You huffed and shuffled into the crowd once more, walking purposefully away from him, but Jungkook was hot on your tail and wouldn’t let you out of his sight. Every few paces, you’d glance over your shoulder and see him following you feverishly, angling himself through the narrow spaces between bodies. But you kept going, pushing through, until you were blocks away from the subway station and Jungkook was nowhere to be seen.

You exhaled long and slow, patting your chest to calm down, and veered off toward the shops on your right, taking cover beneath an awning. Something in your bag vibrated and you jumped. Shit. Your date. The spring day sun was warm on your hands as you fumbled with your bag, grabbing your phone once again.

Blind Date: Where did you go??

You gripped your nose bridge and exhaled through your nose. Of course he’d be confused. You were lucky he was nice enough to reach out at all after seeing you weren’t where you said you’d be. You typed your reply quickly, desperate not to hurt his feelings.

You: God, I’m SO sorry. I ran into someone…from a long time ago lol. I couldn’t shake him off, so I ended up down the street a few blocks. By a Burger King.

You: I’m making a really bad impression, huh? I’m sorry. Just…he’s the LAST person I wanted to see today, you know?

You: Or…well, ever haha.

You awaited a response with bated breath, brows knit, and chewed on the inside of your cheek. This blind date was a wild card, really. Since you didn’t know him yet, you didn’t know how he’d respond. And it wouldn’t be his fault if he decided you weren’t worth all the hassle. Honestly, you might’ve been a little relieved if that was the case. Running into Jungkook…it made you remember why you avoided dating.

But despite your expectations, your phone buzzed again and you jumped to grab it.

Blind Date: This person…you really didn’t want to see him?

You: No. It’s just a painful reminder of the past.

You: !!! God, I keep saying awkward things !!! Haha, please forget I said anything. Where are you?

Blind Date: No! It’s not awkward at all. I’m just…

Blind Date: I’m sorry you had to see him then, I guess.

You: Jeez…

You: You’re a really nice guy, aren’t you?

Blind Date: Haha! I don’t know about that…

Blind Date: How about we reschedule for another time? I get the feeling you wouldn’t really be up for a movie right now anyway.

You panicked, heart kicking up. Despite everything you told yourself, you were a little bit happy he was being so understanding. And even though you were scared, you wanted to see if…well…if maybe this guy might be different.

You shook your head. Of course you shouldn’t think that way. Putting your heart out there to be toyed with and thrown aside…you didn’t want to go through it. Not really. And what relationship could be worth all that? You sucked in your breath and typed a quick response, ready to cast Jungkook and this blind date into the banks of your memory to gather dust. Even if this guy did seem sweet…

So had Jungkook, at first.

You: Yeah. That’s probably for the best. I work at that coffeeshop on campus, so I’ll shoot you a text once I get my schedule. :-)

You: I’m sorry for all the trouble today. Seriously.

You sighed and turned on your heel toward the street. If you kept on this sidewalk for a few more blocks, you’d find exit 3. And from there, it was only a 20-minute subway ride home whereupon you could finally collapse on your couch and wait for this cursed weekend to be over.

But before you could take a single step, a text came.

Blind Date: It was no trouble. :D I just feel bad that you had an unpleasant experience…

You: Hey, it’s not your fault haha.

You: Oh yeah! I never gave you my name, did I?

Blind Date: No, actually. Haha.

You: It’s Y/N.

Blind Date: It’s nice to meet you again, Y/N.

Blind Date: You can call me Nochu.

You: … Nochu … ?

Blind Date: Haha, it’s weird huh?

Blind Date: It’s a nickname I prefer.

You: Ah! I see. I’ll call you that then.

You: Nochu.

Blind Date: Y/N :-)

You stood and placed your hands on your lower back and stretched, groaning, a week later. Classes had been dragging lately and with several coworkers sick with a cold, you were one of the only employees left who wasn’t too ill to work. Your body felt like it was slowly failing you. Even your feet were sore from constantly running from place to place. And the quiet coffee shop before you made you feel like taking a long and well-needed nap. Mismatched chairs and bistro tables littered the trendy place and students congregated around the windows or the fireplace or the used bookshelf. Nobody really bothered you except to order or ask for to-go coffee sleeves. Mostly, you just stood there. For hours. Watching everything and nothing at once.

But today the energy was a little different. You’d heard from Sua that the graphic design students were approaching an important deadline, and from the looks of the crowd it seemed that deadline was heavy on everyone’s minds. Laptops and drawing tablets and plenty of coffee littered the tables as students chatted in small groups, none of them looking all too happy. You wondered what the project was, but didn’t want to bother Sua with a useless question. So instead, you just watched over customer’s shoulders as they added thick white lines to separate sections of illustrations or grabbed whole images with slender styluses and slid them to new spaces.

“Excuse me?”

You jumped and turned to the queue which up until moments ago had been completely empty. You made sure to manage your expression with a tight smile and bowed your head. “Sorry,” you said quietly, lifting your eyes to meet the customer.

And, to your shock and horror, you saw a familiar face amongst the group of thee college-aged boys. Jeon Jungkook stood in the middle, a half-pace behind the guy who had roused your attention, and if his expression was anything to go by, he was just as horrified to see you as you were to see him. You felt your back go perfectly straight, eyes wide and lips parted through which only shallow exhales escaped. Your palms grew sweaty and your heart thump-thumped to an uneven cadence.

“Um, what can I make for you?” you asked finally, managing a tight smile at the speaker of the group whose attention was affixed to the sign above your head, reading the menu with squinted eyes. “If you need more time…,” you hedged, avoiding Jungkook’s gaze which you felt burning circles into your face.

“Ah, no I’ve got it,” said the first guy with a polite smile your way. “I’ll have a green tea latte.”

You nodded and wrote it down on your notepad, just to keep things straight. Had your coworkers been stronger in their constitution, you’d have given the order to one of them to get started on. Perhaps you’d even get started yourself and leave the cashiering to them. But alas, you were alone and painfully aware of it.

“Will you be paying separately or together?” you asked, a tinge of hope in your voice. Please say together, please say together, please say together, you thought over and over, like an endless mantra.

The first boy chuckled and gave Jungkook’s shoulder a firm punch. “Like I’ll pay for these good-for-nothings,” he joked before returning his attention to you, smiling. He had a kind smile, but even that did little to ease your anxieties. You simply nodded and took his card as he stretched it out toward you.

The second guy approached, another brown-haired college kid with a polite grin and baggy spring clothes, and hummed. “I’ll do the caramel macchiato,” he said with a nod, fingers still clasping his chin as he scanned the menu and you scribbled his order. “Ah!” he said, pointing at you. You jumped, still on edge with adrenaline coursing through you, but quickly settled with a smile. “And a slice of banana bread.”

“Banana bread,” you mumbled to yourself as you wrote it. “Okay.”

The second handed you a credit card which you swiped quickly, eager to get this whole encounter over with. He took it back with a bow and a smile which you struggled to return because the moment you glanced over his shoulder you caught Jungkook’s gaze, intense, warm browns peering at you like you held answers he’d been searching for. Despite yourself, you blushed and glanced back toward your notepad.

Finally, the moment of reckoning arrived and your nerves made your hands a little shaky as they clasped the pen and paper. Your eyes wavered around the space between your own hands, measuring the empty air, desperate not to look at Jungkook again.

“Um…,” he mumbled, voice a low rumble in his chest. You almost wanted to squeeze your eyes shut altogether, even though you knew how dumb that’d make you look. “Can I get a strawberry smoothie?”

You almost laughed. It was so like him to come to a coffeeshop and order something like that. It was so like him to still have a weak palate when it came to bitter things. It was so like him to chase after you that day, to show up here on coincidence. It was so like him to be exactly who you remembered him to be. Exactly who he was back then.

Slowly, once you’d written his order down, you lifted your eyes and looked at him properly at last. He was dressed well, casual as you expected, all black as you expected, handsome as you expected. His hair was half-styled out of his eyes, and those eyes were the problem really. Dark and depthless, staring down at you with furrowed brow, jaw clenched. If anyone had doubts you two knew each other before, they’d certainly know now with the way he was watching you. The way he hadn’t taken his eyes off of you for even a second.

“That’s all?” you asked.

“Um…yeah,” he responded, blinking at you like he had more to say.

By then, his friends had begun setting up camp amongst the mismatched sofas and recliners, setting up their computers. You caught sight of a drawing tablet as its corner poked out the top of the first boy’s backpack. So they were design majors too? Maybe your blind date had met one of these guys, then. But wait. If his friends were, did that mean…

“You’re a design major?” you asked, unable to stop yourself.

But once you said it, you wished to suck the words back inside like tapioca balls through a straw because across Jungkook’s face flashed a brief glimmer of excitement, eyes wide, mouth already open and poised to respond.

“Yeah!” he said, smiling a little. “I…uh, well you remember how I liked to draw.”

You nodded, typing the total into your cash register. “Yeah, I remember.”

“Listen, Y/N, I’m really sorry about-,”

“Let’s not rehash things here,” you said, eyeing him from beneath your lashes, scanning the shop like a conspirator in search of any prying eyes, any listening ears. “It doesn’t matter anyway. We’ve both moved on so let’s just keep it at that.”

Jungkook shut his mouth and, after a long moment, sighed. “Alright,” he said, sounding defeated. You hazarded a glance up at him and found his eyes long-sighted, gazing down at the counter between you without really looking at it.

“It’ll be 3,500 won,” you said, holding out one hand towards him.

He blinked and shook his head a little, as if returning to himself, and yanked his wallet from the front pocket of his loose joggers. He pulled out a bill and handed it to you. 20,000. Was that the smallest bill he had on him? You examined it with a thinly-veiled scowl. Of course, he was probably making good money doing something impressive. That was Jungkook anyway. The type of guy who just…made things come to him. Like the universe responded to his will. You sighed and went to work on the old register, punching in the amount and sliding the bill inside. You produced his change to find him already bounding toward his friends with his broad back to you.

Panicked, you rushed to the side of the barista station and called out to him. “Hey! You forgot your change!” you shouted, cupping one hand around your mouth. A few patrons turned to look at you and Jungkook.

He barely glanced back at you when he said, “You can keep it.”

And suddenly you were blushing for a very different reason.

That jerk, you thought to yourself as you watched him plug away at some ad he was working on on his tablet. Evening had fallen slowly upon the city of Seoul, and you wanted nothing more than to stroll out into the lavender evening, forgetting this whole unpleasant day. But instead, you had to wait for your coworker, Sora, to relieve you after making you work fifteen minutes past the end of your shift. Scowling, you kept a hawk’s eye on Jungkook and, unbeknownst to him, wished silent curses upon his head. I hope you go bald, you thought. Or worse, I hope you go out for fried chicken and you get only tendons. You crossed your arms and lolled your head to the side.

You shouldn’t have expected Jungkook to change. He’d always been a ‘my pace’ kind of guy. Maybe leaving that tip was his way of flexing his money to you. That he had enough money to just throw around at random baristas he used to hook up with in high school. Or maybe he was pitying you, looking down on you for working such a menial job. Either way, it made your blood boil. You felt the money crinkle in the pocket of your jeans with every step.

You’d briefly considered spitting in his smoothie, but you didn’t want to lose your job over Jeon Jungkook.

After all, you’d already lost your youth to the kid.

You glanced outside and watched the rainclouds gathering. Of course, you’d forgotten to bring an umbrella. It wasn’t like you’d checked the weather on the way out. Grumpily, you glanced down at your phone to check the time. Twenty minutes late now. What did Sora have to do that was so important? Normally, you’d complain to a friend. But Sua was about the closest you had these days and you weren’t sure you could trouble her with it.

But…were you really friends if you didn’t reach out to her from time to time?

Sighing, you glanced around the shop, making sure nobody was watching you, and unlocked your phone. So much had already happened that a quick message didn’t seem reasonable, but you couldn’t very well bury your head in your phone so after every few clicks you’d sweep your gaze around. You settled for an anxious few words between nervous glances at the rest of the shop. Realistically, you were off the clock anyway. But you didn’t want any bad Yelp reviews on your behalf.

You: Sua, on God today is cursed.

You waited a few moments for a response before growing impatient. Everything was taking forever today: that interaction with Jungkook, Sora taking over your shift, and now Sua not responding. Of course, she had no obligation to. She was probably busy with her own preparation much like the other graphic design students. You had no right to expect that of her.

Wasn’t that your problem from the start? Expecting too much?

Your phone buzzed in response as your mind began to drift toward melancholy thoughts and as you slid it open your eyes went wide and your fingertips chilled as the blood rushed to your cheeks.

Blind Date: Hah…I’m not Sua, but I am willing to listen if you need it…?

Blind Date: Was wondering when I’d hear from you.

Mortified didn’t even begin to cover it. You cupped a hand over your lips in horror, and just as you were about to melt into a pile of melted pride on the floor, the door swung open and a breathless Sora met your eyes with a nervous smile. You swallowed hard and pocketed your phone, offering Sora your full attention. He bowed his head to you, bending at the waist, as he approached the counter.

“I am so sorry for being late!” he shouted, loud enough for every patron to glance at him and, subsequently, you.

Your flushed face went beet red as Jungkook turned to stare at you, eyes wide. Of course, another embarrassing moment in front of that guy. “U-um, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it,” you said, waving your hands.

He sniffled and looked up at you, eyes red with impending tears. “I really didn’t mean to, but I fell asleep after class today and-,”

“Sora, it’s cool,” you said, removing your apron and hanging it on the rack behind you. “I’m gonna go now though so I can catch my subway.”

Sora stiffened and nodded, giving you a salute before scampering behind the counter and putting on his own apron. “I really am sorry!” he called after you.

You waved a hand and rushed out onto the sidewalk, lingering beneath the awning as the rain began to drizzle from overhead. You returned your attention to your phone, pushing your hair behind your ears so you could see properly, and swallowed your nerves.

You: I…am such an idiot.

You: I’m so sorry. I was at work and I’m not supposed to be on my phone, but I just…

You: Jesus, honestly you can just delete my number. I don’t think I can look at your contact anymore without cringing.

You were poised to take a step out into the rain when your phone vibrated again and you jumped to read it with barely shaking hands.

Blind Date: No! It’s okay. Seriously.

Blind Date: I can list dumber things I’ve done today alone.

Blind Date: Besides, sounds like you need someone to talk to anyway…?

You blinked at your phone screen a few times, cocking your head to the side. Somehow, his words had calmed you down, just a little. Your flaming cheeks were cooler now when you poked one with the pad of your finger. Your heart wasn’t a hammer against your ribcage. And as you glanced over your shoulder at the window into the coffeeshop, you found Jungkook was no longer in sight. With a few texts alone, things seemed a little better.

You: I won’t bore you with all of it, haha.

You: It was more of a Sua story anyway I think.

You: I’m trying to break through that kinda hesitant first stage of friendship with her and

You: Well anyway, I’m sorry to bother you. Hope you’re doing good?

Blind Date: Haha, hey I get it. Friendships are weird. Took me a while to make any real friends this year since I was so shy.

You: You were shy?

Blind Date: Oh big time. I still don’t really know how to approach people without saying or doing something wrong.

Blind Date: Like today. I think I came across like an asshole to someone.

Blind Date: That happens a lot actually -_-

Blind Date: Being nervous makes me act weird.

You: Really? You sound really confident over text.

Blind Date: Haha really? That’s good to hear at least.

Blind Date: I’m about the least confident person I know.

Blind Date: Whew, not exactly the impression I wanted to give to a possible date! Oops.

You smiled at your phone and began typing out a response when the door by your hip swung open and out walked Jungkook and his friends. Jungkook caught your eye as your smile was slipping into a scowl and you quickly righted yourself, looking away down the busy street. You held your phone close to your chest and popped a hip out to the side, feigning disinterest.

“See you guys tomorrow,” said one boy.

“Yeah,” responded Jungkook, and you saw out the corner of your eye that the guys parted ways. Jungkook lingered beside you underneath the awning, watching you keenly. “Who were you texting?” he asked.

You stiffened and glanced up at him with a frown. “Is that any of your business?” you asked.

He flushed a little, rubbed the back of his head, and let out a few breathy laughs. “Sorry. Guess not,” he said with a sigh.

For a few moments the two of you just stood there, silent. You weren’t sure what to do next without an umbrella, and you didn’t want Jungkook to think you were just…spending time with him for fun. But still, you didn’t move or make a sound. Just watched the steadily increasing rainfall splatter against the pavement, gathering in pools beside the sidewalk.

“Listen,” he began, turning to you properly. You eyed him from below with raised brows. “I really don’t want any bad energy between us, okay? I know things were messy before, but we’re in college now. It’s been years, right?” Some of the tension between you broke, but it was quickly replaced by a new tension: your outrage.

You blinked at him, working your jaw. “Jungkook, you don’t get to tell me when I’m allowed to stop being hurt,” you said, shaking your head. “Seeing you is a little painful, even though it’s been a long time. So…maybe just ignore me.”

Jungkook sighed and gripped the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry, Y/N. You know I am.”

You shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. I don’t really want anything to do with you,” you said, meeting his eyes. Your own calm surprised you. He looked desperate, brows knit and lips parted. “I don’t know why it’s so hard for you to just leave me alone.”

He blinked a few times, eyes wide. “I…I mean, we go to the same school now and everything. I just transferred this year and it’s…I don’t really know many people. It’s not like we’re strangers, so why should we act like we are?”

You swallowed your anger. “I’m gonna go now,” you said, adjusting your bag on your shoulder and walking out into the rain. You turned to look at him. “I don’t think you get what I’m saying, so it’s not worth repeating it again in a different way. Just…leave me alone.”

But before you could take a single step toward the subway entrance three blocks away, Jungkook was beside you in the rain, fiddling with his umbrella. “Wh-what are you doing? I just said to leave me alone!” you called at him over the sound of the rain around you.

Jungkook spat rainwater out from between his lips and shook his head as the umbrella finally popped open and the rain stopped pummeling you, now ricocheting off the nylon. You stared up at Jungkook underneath the dark umbrella, confined beneath it, confined to this small, enclosed space. Your chest was nearly touching his arm and his breath was warm as it fanned across your face. Strawberries. Like his smoothie. Rain was caught in his long eyelashes and his rosy lips were still parted, cheeks a warm pink. He stared down at you and for a brief moment, you felt a hot, shooting sensation running from the top of your head to your toes.

“Let me walk you to the station at least,” he said, scanning you.

You felt a little faint, and the sweet scent of his cologne only made you more disoriented. “I’m fine. It’s only a few blocks,” you said, but even you could admit your voice sounded weak.

He sighed, eyes falling to the ground. “I know I hurt you a lot back then, but…,” he began, then shook his head. “Even if it’s small, I wanna make it up to you somehow. So…let me walk you.”

You rubbed your bare forearm and inhaled sharply, shutting your eyes for a moment. “Fine,” you forced out and the two of you began walking.

“So…,” said Jungkook after a few moments of uncomfortable silence. “How was your date the other day?”

You groaned. “What we’re not gonna do is this.”

Jungkook chuckled. “Sorry,” he said, shaking his head. “Just curious.”

You watched your hands, clasped in front of you, and sighed. “It didn’t happen,” you said. If nothing else, at least your time with Jungkook made you remarkably comfortable talking to him about your thoughts and feelings. “We cancelled.”

“Why?” he asked, brows high.

You shrugged. “After seeing you, I was kinda crabby so…”

“It was my fault?” He pointed with his free hand to his own chest, eyes wide.

“I mean, yeah but not really,” you said with an easy exhale. “It’s for the best anyway. He seems like a really nice guy. I don’t wanna end up hurting his feelings or something.”

“You’d rather be alone than risk having things end badly?” he asked.

You peered up at him. “Wonder why that is,” you mumbled before glancing away.

He sighed. “Sorry.”

“Mhm.”

The rest of the walk was silent as the two of you were forced to simply live with the words you’d exchanged, unable to do anything to alter the events that led you here. All you could do was walk forward, united under a shared umbrella for just a moment, until you ducked out from beneath it and disappeared down the subway station stairs, not even pausing for a moment to wave or say goodbye.

Blind Date: Yikes, did I really scare you off?

You raised your brows at your phone screen as the subway bumped along. It was too crowded to find a seat, so you stood cramped between a stout businessman and a high school girl, all of you holding the railing overhead for stability. You couldn’t help it, but again you smiled. After all the craziness that had come from the day, this stranger seemed to help you feel at ease.

You: Haha nope! It’d take more than that.

You: I bumped into someone I didn’t want to see, so I had to take care of that.

Blind Date: !!! Same person as before??

You: Yeah, if you can believe it lol.

Blind Date: (o_O)

Blind Date: How unlucky can a person be?

You: That’s what I’m saying. (￢_￢;)

You: That’s actually one of the things I was gonna complain to Sua about.

You: Y’know, teenage heartbreak and high school angst. Etc.

Blind Date: Hey, I said it before. I’d love to listen!

Blind Date: Aight, that was too enthusiastic. How about: I wouldn’t mind hearing you out!

You: Lol, good addendum.

You: I mean, it’s not like it’s really that serious. Just…in high school I was really shy. I didn’t have very many friends and I thought that I was fine on my own, you know?

You: But I guess I was lonelier than I thought haha. There was this really handsome guy in my class who started sitting with me on the roof at lunch. At first, neither of us really said anything. Just…sitting together.

You: But after a while, we got pretty close. Half a school year maybe. He said he came up there because the air was nice, but I had a feeling it had to do with the fact that he was a little too popular for his own good. Everyone wanted to talk to him. But he was like me.

You: Introverted, I mean.

Blind Date: Sounds like you two were good friends, then?

You: Yeah, until I caught feelings lol. Mistake.

Blind Date: You confessed??

You: Hehe…yes.

You: After a while being close, I felt really comfortable telling him anything. I told him it wasn’t like I was expecting him to date me or anything. I just wanted him to know so he could be a little more careful around me.

You: But it seemed like he reciprocated.

You: We started dating…I guess?

You: Never put a label on it, which was another mistake on my part for not asking.

You: But we did everything couples did, just…not really in front of anyone from school.

You: Never asked about that either lol.

Blind Date: Oh…

Blind Date: I mean…that doesn’t sound so good…

You: Haha, it’s probably exactly what it sounds like because once we’d been together for about a year, he ended things really suddenly. We were getting ready to apply for colleges and he was gonna go for one in a different city. He said it wouldn’t work out.

You: I fought really hard for it, but he started saying pretty mean things and I didn’t want to get hurt so I ended up conceding.

Blind Date: Mean things?

You: Things I don’t really wanna type out haha…

Blind Date: Shit! Sorry, sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.

You: Hey, don’t worry! Old wounds. I should probably get over it, really.

You: No time like the present!

You: He said he never really liked me and he was only with me because he felt bad for me. Didn’t really love hearing that.

You: He said because I didn’t have friends, he pitied me. That was why he went to the roof to eat with me. Why he kissed me and all that. Took me on dates. ┐(￣ヘ￣)┌  Pretty dumb, imo, but that’s what he said and it seemed like he meant it anyway lol.

Blind Date: Y/N…

You: Hey, you asked!

Blind Date: That’s really shitty. You didn’t deserve that.

Blind Date: You carried that around with you all these years?

You: Hah, admitting it sounds kinda pathetic, huh?

You: I guess it’s not the sort of thing you just…get over. I think I really loved him too, so…

You: Anyway, seeing him now is really weird. Never thought I’d see him around here again, but suddenly he’s everywhere haha. Definitely doesn’t feel great, tbh.

You: Ew, sorry for laying all that on you. Not exactly small talk.

Blind Date: No!! Don’t apologize. I’m glad you talked to me about it. Honestly…I feel really sorry for you. It sounds like the whole thing affected you a lot. :-(

Blind Date: If it makes you feel better, I think I can understand you a little!

Blind Date: Like I said, I’m a bit shy myself. It’s not an issue of having friends, but finding good ones. It’s hard for me to socialize without saying something dumb and regretting it. So for a while, when I first started college, I isolated myself a lot. I didn’t want to make any more mistakes, you know?

Blind Date: But recently, I’ve met some people who are really kind. People who don’t judge me when I mess things up (which is often haha). They help me communicate better.

You: You communicate really well, I think :-)

Blind Date: Haha, thank you. I’m actually blushing a little, whew. Uh, I guess it’s because it’s easier to type things out. Speaking is hard because you can’t just reword things before sending them. You say it out loud and it’s forever, you know?

You: Yeah! Jeez, that actually happened to me today (—_—)

You: I’m glad someone else understands it lol

Blind Date: Yeah, me too.

By the time you received the last message, you were already back inside your apartment, soaked from the walk home. You’d used your bag to cover your phone as you walked and typed, so now the thing was slumped against your dining chair like a sopping wet creature. But still, you smiled at your phone. Even though the conversation with Jungkook had been jarring, you’d almost forgotten it after chatting with your blind date. It felt oddly vulnerable to reveal so much to him, but his reaction had been really reassuring. You set your phone aside and padded to the bathroom to dry yourself a little with a towel, catching sight of yourself in the mirror. Your cheeks were a little flushed, eyes clear, and still smiling. You shook your head, trying to shake off your grin, but when you glanced back at your reflection it was still the same.

With the towel dangling across your shoulders, you returned to the living room and saw your phone lit up with another new text. Smiling, you unlocked it and read what he had to say.

Blind Date: Off topic, but uh…

Blind Date: Did you happen to catch the most recent episode of Game of Thrones?

Blind Date: Because I need to talk about it or I might explode.

You raised your brows and, without meaning to, you laughed. Was this okay? Was it alright to become close to someone like this again? Was it alright to be excited about someone again? You were fearful, cautious, hesitant. After everything with Jungkook, you’d found it impossible to trust people’s intentions. Were they being nice to you because they liked you or because they felt bad for you? Would you get hurt if you trusted the goodwill of the people around you?

You: Um…

You: CAN WE TALK ABOUT ARYA???

You weren’t going to talk to him again.

Well…that was your intention anyway. But by Friday, you’d spent every night up late chatting with this Nochu guy. It wasn’t like you talked about anything all that interesting or profound. Music you liked, games you played, anime you watched. You’d spent the better portion of Thursday night talking about whether Fullmetal Alchemist or Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood was superior. You weren’t sure why you were compelled to respond every time his name lit up your phone. And you really weren’t sure why you were the one reaching out to him now as you sat watching your professor detail the process of molecular movement across a cell membrane.

Perhaps you’d missed making easy conversation with someone you liked talking to…

After high school, you’d become something of a recluse. You spent more nights in than out and despite doing well in your classes, you’d found yourself…slightly lonesome. That’s why when Sua gave you her number after you’d successfully finished a project together a few months ago, you’d been quick to take it. Even though it was a little scary, some small part of you wanted to trust people again.

And maybe that’s why too. Why you were sending this stupid text in the middle of your lecture.

You: Hey dude. You free today?

Blind Date: Hm? Why?

You: Idk, Burger King or smth?

Blind Date: Hehe, are you trying to revive our dead romance?

You: O.O Our romance died already? After one failed date?

Blind Date: Hahaha I mean…you can try giving it CPR if you want…?

Blind Date: Mouth-to-mouth ;-D

You: Yuck, I take it back. Our romance is dead and buried.

You: Anyway, you free?

Blind Date: Uh yeah probs later. I’ve got class until 4.

Blind Date: Does that work for your Burger King plan?

Blind Date: I know it’s hard to get a reservation at that place on short notice >.<

You: I take it all back.

You: I have plans tonight, soz.

You: Talk to ya later, weeb.

You smiled and set your phone down beside your notebook, refocusing on your professor.  But your attention was quickly assuaged by your phone vibrating once more. You smirked down at it and, covertly, read the slew of oncoming text messages with a chuckle.

Blind Date: !!! That’s rude !!!

Blind Date: You can’t just offer a Burger King date and snatch it out from under me like that.

Blind Date: I’ll be mad if you jerk me around >:-(

Blind Date: You see that face? I mean BUSINESS.

You: Calm down lol, I was kidding.

You: Let’s meet at the Burger King next to the ramen place near campus?

Blind Date: Hehe, sounds good :-P

Blind Date: Ah, but don’t be too surprised when you meet me, okay?

Blind Date: I don’t want you fainting when you see my handsome face 8-)

You: Mhm, I’ll be sure not to faint.

Blind Date: I mean…a little fainting is fine…

You: Haha shut up. I’ll see you there. Looking forward to putting a face to the texts!

Blind Date: Hopefully my face doesn’t disappoint lol.

You: Yikes, mine either.

Blind Date: Yours won’t.

Blind Date: Haha, I’m sure you’ll look great. That’s what I meant.

Blind Date: Ew, all of that was hard to read. Forget I said anything hhhhhh.

You smiled fondly at your phone before sliding it into your bag. “You look kinda smitten,” said Sua from beside you.

You jumped and glanced at her as the rest of the class began packing up. She was grinning at you like a co-conspirator, brows low, knowing grin on her face. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve been texting someone named Blind Date during every class period for a week,” she said, cocking a brow. “I take it you guys hit it off?”

You felt yourself go warm. Not like with Jungkook the other day, but like something else. Something a little deeper than a physical reaction. Nonetheless, you cleared your throat and smiled at Sua. “He’s a good guy. I think we could be good friends.”

“Friends?” she asked with a laugh, flitting her hand as the two of you stood together. “Sounds boring. Get a smooch or two out of it or it’s a bust.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I don’t really know if he’d be interested in me that way.”

“What about you?” she asked, eyeing you. “Would you be interested?”

You stared at her for a long moment, eyes wide, and opened and shut your mouth a few times. “I…,” you began, then glanced at your feet. You followed her out into the hallway where students hurried by in a flash beside you. “I mean…”

Sua paused her walking to stare back at you, her teasing grin replaced with a genuine one. “Wait, do you actually like him-like him?” she asked, eyes alight.

You stiffened, scratching your arm, and sighed. “Jeez, I don’t know! Maybe,” you said, waving your hands. “Forget it, I’ve got another class soon.”

She laughed as you maneuvered around her through the hall, calling after you. “You’re cute when you’ve got a crush!”

You sat at a booth by yourself at Burger King, waiting for your not-date to show up. It had only been a few minutes and already your anxiety was starting to speak in your ear. He’s not showing up, it whispered, You’re an idiot. And maybe you were. Looking around the fast food joint, you saw more than a few couples, sitting side-by-side or gazing at each other over fried chicken. You didn’t envy them. Not that way. Just…maybe it was the human connection you missed more than anything. Last time you’d been in this situation, you were still deeply in love with Jeon Jungkook.

You were sixteen and you sat twiddling your thumbs on a suburban bench overlooking Seoul. Trees swayed in the summer breeze and carried with them the scent of young hopefulness, naivety in the form of dogwood blossoms. You watched the uneven cityscape before you as it resisted the pull of the wind, and far in the distance, slightly glittering in the sunlight, the Han River. Jungkook had said he’d be there at exactly two. It was ten past, and you were getting a little nervous. You’d confessed not a week prior during the last week of school, and to your shock Jungkook had been receptive. He hadn’t said anything bold like ‘I like you too’ or ‘let’s date’ but he had invited you out for some ice cream and you figured that was much the same thing for him.

Maybe he’s just being nice, you thought to yourself with a sigh. You’d spent a long time picking out the right outfit, getting your hair to lay just right. And still, you didn’t feel quite up to par with him. Girls were always confessing their love for him. Guys too. What made you any different than the dozens of other hopefuls? He probably won’t come…

“Y/N!” called a voice from the winding, hilly street.

You jumped and turned, and your heart swelled as you saw Jungkook running down the sidewalk toward you, grinning from ear to ear. And that was what did you in. That sincerity, that vigor, that enthusiasm…all for you. You stood up to meet him and chuckled as he caught his breath, patting his chest.

“Sorry, sorry,” he said, panting. “My mom started lecturing me, so I got tied up.” After a few moments regaining his composure, he finally looked at you properly and when he did, you noticed his cheeks going red hot, eyes round. “Oh, wow,” he said, glancing away with a jittery laugh. “S-Sorry, you…you look really nice.”

You felt a little faint. You’d spent months pining after this kid, pining after this purity you kept glimpsing in him, and now…

He was saying you looked nice.

It was almost enough to knock the breath out of you.

You smiled at your shoes and rubbed your neck. “Th-thank you,” you said.

He laughed, nervous once more, and gave your shoulder a shove. “Hey, don’t get all clammy on me, okay? Nothing’s weird between us. Just…two pals…on a date.”

You jumped and stared up at him with unbridled surprise. “Date?” you asked, shameless hope in your voice.

He laughed, eyes turning to crescents, and nodded. “What else would it be?” Of course. Of course, since it was Jungkook, the answer was just that simple, wasn’t it?

You swallowed hard and tried to manage your expression, but you couldn’t fight the smile teasing your lips. “Oh,” you said, letting out a breathy laugh.

He examined you for a moment, scanning you. You weren’t used to going out with friends, let alone dating. All of this was new and exhilarating to you. But you felt a sudden wave of shyness that you couldn’t fight off, and a slightly pleasant self-consciousness. You felt him looking at you, and it didn’t feel like he hated looking. You became very aware of your body, each limb, each finger. Still smiling a little, you laughed again, unsure of what else to do. These were uncharted waters, after all.

“Hm,” he said, bending down to meet your eyes. You blushed and leaned away a little, but he was blushing too and it made you feel better knowing perhaps he was just as nervous as you. “Lemme prove it.”

Your eyes went wide, but before you could say or do anything, Jungkook closed the distance between you, tipping his chin so that your lips met. His lips were warm and soft. They tasted like chapstick and banana milk. You didn’t move, not a single muscle, and perhaps this worried him because he was quick to lean away and stare down at you, fresh insecurity on display in his warm brown eyes.

“Sorry! Was that too sudden?” he asked, laughing and glancing away, down the quiet street. “Jeez, I got carried away, huh? Ha, I’m sorry.”

Before he could spiral, you took a timid step forward and pushed yourself onto your toes. Gently, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling yourself nearer to him. He jumped and looked at you with stunned eyes. But you didn’t give him a chance to think too much, because before long you were kissing him, head tilted to the side, eyes shut. Without much pause, his hands found your waist and stayed there, respectful, unsure.

And somehow, you’d summoned the courage to do it. To kiss him back.

Because he showed up, after all.

He didn’t leave you alone…

Fifteen minutes now and you were beginning to worry. You reasoned that at least there were worse places to be stood up. A nice steakhouse, for instance. At least here you weren’t the only solo diner. But nonetheless, the feeling of a deep gut-punch was only growing. Dread and disappointment mingled into a bitter cocktail in the pit of your stomach. Wouldn’t this just be…poetic? Getting stood up for your first date after years of fear and emotional isolation?

Wouldn’t that be exactly what would happen?

Thirty minutes. At first, you tried to tell yourself he was probably just running late from a class. After all, the walk from campus alone was around seven minutes. Maybe he’d gotten released late. Maybe he’d gotten held up with a professor or classmate. You stared at your Whopper with dead eyes now, watching the cold burger as all the heat drained from it. It was too late to save it now. And perhaps it had never been meant for you to eat anyway. Maybe it was your destiny to become a vegetarian or something.

Nonetheless, you sent a text.

Even though it felt pathetic.

You: Hey, uh…we still on for Burger King?

You: No rush, haha.

You: Just a little worried…

Was this revenge for ruining the first date? Some elaborate plot to get back at you? He seemed like a really sweet guy, but so had Jungkook after all. After several minutes without a reply, you began to accept the fact that you’d been thoroughly stood up. Your throat constricted, eyes going a little hazy, and resolved to wait a little longer. Just a little.

Forty-eight minutes. No reply and no date. By then, plenty of customers had come and gone through the front doors, none of them him. You couldn’t bring yourself to take even one bite of food, the money wasted, the time wasted too. How much time had you wasted, really? How much of your life had you spent watering dead plants?

When Jungkook told you he wanted to break up, you’d been in disbelief. The two of you were close, so close it almost hurt, and the sudden end felt like a slap in the face or a jolt to the heart. You’d fought him in his room that night, the sunset turning the ends of his hair gold, turning his eyes gold too. He had no right being so handsome at a moment like that. You asked for a reason and he said he didn’t want any strings going in to college. He wanted to be unaffiliated. But you couldn’t accept that. You couldn’t accept that the time you spent together had meant so little to him, that the relationship was a dead plant from the start.

I was only dating you because I felt bad for you! he’d shouted once he’d had enough. Ever wonder why I never told anyone about us?! You’d been stunned then, stunned silent. Your brain was failing to process his words. He’d never spoken that way to you before. How much time had you spent in love? How much time had he spent pitying you? I was your only friend, for God’s sake! What did you expect me to do?!

Perhaps you’d been right after all. Perhaps giving yourself to other people was too dangerous, too painful. Perhaps loving someone wasn’t worth it, perhaps it could never be completely reciprocal. Perhaps any relationship you had would be a waste of time. Perhaps all you were destined to do was water dead plants until finally, you decided it was enough.

One hour. You stood up from your seat, wiped beneath your eyes as the tears you’d been fighting finally crested over your bottom eyelid, and carried your tray to the garbage. You slid your trash into the bin and, sniffling, wandered out toward the exit. Customers avoided walking too close to you, likely noticing the tears that were now tracking stubbornly down your cheeks. You would have wiped them, had you had the energy to care.

But all you wanted was to go home and be alone.

Alone for a while.

You pushed your way outside, taking in the fresh spring day. No more rain, even though you would have welcomed it. It could have concealed your crying, your red nose and swelling eyes. You could have cowered beneath a bus stop and nobody would have noticed you. Nobody would have noticed.

Instead, the spring day was gorgeous, teasingly beautiful. The sun was beginning to set on the horizon, and people milled about through the street, smiling and chatting easily. Sniffling, you wiped your nose and joined them, walking down the sidewalk toward the subway entrance near campus.

You were overreacting. You didn’t even know this guy that well yet. He wasn’t a boyfriend, he wasn’t someone you’d given your whole heart to. He hadn’t betrayed you, because deep down you’d expected this. Maybe that’s what upset you so much. Being proven right.

You exited the crowd of people a block from the Burger King and walked with your head down toward the subway entrance. You were about to step on to the escalator when you heard someone call your name.

“Y/N!”

You turned slowly, eyes bleary from all the crying, and rubbed your tears away to see them clearly. Again, like he had some sort of sense for when you were most humiliated, Jungkook stepped toward you. His face was contorted in worry, thick brows knit, mouth agape as he stared down at you, scanning you.

You sniffled and nodded. “What?” you asked.

“What are you doing?” he asked softly, taking you by the crook of the arm and leading you toward a more sparsely populated alley beside the sidewalk. You didn’t fight. Didn’t have it in you. “Are you okay?” he asked, his own eyes watery as he looked down at you, forcing your head up as he held it between two big, warm hands.

You kept your gaze on the dirty ground. “Let me go,” you said, but it was weak.

“Y/N…,” he whispered, smoothing his thumb against your cheek. “Jesus.”

“What?” you asked, looking at him quick, fierce. “Are you pitying me?”

His eyes went wide and he shook his head. Looking at him now, he seemed pretty shaken himself. Why did the two of you keep bumping into each other like this? “No! No, that’s not it.”

“Then what?” you asked, shaking his hands off your face. “What is it, huh? Here to show off your money? Show me how good you’re doing while I’m working minimum wage? Huh? Do you like feeling superior?”

He swallowed hard, his expression revealing some sort of hurt you couldn’t name. “No! Please, it’s not that! Let me explain-,”

“No! You don’t have any right to ask me to listen to you!” you said, sobbing. You wiped your eyes with your forearm and shook your head. “Just leave me alone! Everyone!” you shouted.

Jungkook took your shoulders in his hands to keep you still and you tried a few times to shake yourself free, but to no avail. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

You kept crying, the ancient pain welling up from inside you like some age-old reserve finally erupting. Your body rocked with the force of your tears. “Isn’t it pathetic? The minute I start trying to reach out, I get stood up?” you asked with a manic laugh. “Doesn’t that just make you feel so good? Aren’t I pitiable?”

Jungkook’s own tears were pooling in his eyes and you could see them there, threatening to fall. “Please,” he said quietly.

You shook your head. “Isn’t this what you want? Someone to look down on? Someone to feel bad for?” you asked, face wet from the tears. “Can’t you just leave me alone?!” you shouted, loud enough to rouse the attention of a few people on the sidewalk behind Jungkook’s back.

Jungkook, without another word, sniffled sharply and pulled you flush against his chest. You struggled against his strong hold for a few moments, writhing, before finally submitting. Without even meaning to, you wrapped your arms around his torso and sobbed into his black shirt. He held you close, resting his cheek on your head. You could have sworn you felt a few tears hitting your shoulder.

But before you could get too comfortable in his embrace, you pushed yourself away and stared at him, bitter, angry, from several feet away. You looked at him like a feral thing, like an alleycat. And the way he watched you was different than it was that day by the bench. It was worried now, like a shadow had crossed over his face.

“I’m sorry-,” he began.

You shook your head and shoved past him. “Don’t talk to me. Ever,” you spat as you walked by, rejoining the stream of people on the sidewalk toward the subway entrance.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” asked Sua as the two of you left class.

Half a week had passed, and you were eager for more time to distance you from that unpleasant day. You’d received a slew of texts from your blind date, all of which had gone unanswered. They ranged from the typical I’m so sorry texts to more in-depth explanations. Apparently, he’d gotten nervous. Cold feet, he’d said. Nervous for what, you didn't know and you wouldn’t ask. You were meeting at a Burger King for God’s sake. What could he have been that nervous about?

You glanced at her and offered a tight smile. “Mhm. I’m good. Just…uh…gotta get to work later so I’m thinking about that,” you said, over-explaining. Of course, lying just wasn’t for you.

Sua sighed and hooked an arm around your elbow, leaning close to you as the two of you walked down the hallway. You edged away just slightly, and it seemed she noticed as she turned to you with wide eyes. You hated to admit it, but everything with that Nochu guy had made you wary of even Sua. They did know each other after all. Had this been one big setup from the start? Were the two conspiring to hurt you?

You shook your head and patted her hand with a smile. Of course not. Of course that was crazy. But…something about this whole thing had you feeling crazy. “Sorry,” you said quietly. “Just…met up with someone from my past the other day and it didn’t feel so good.”

She raised her brows. “What? You never mentioned anyone like that before…,” she said, her brows lowering. She looked a little hurt.

You swallowed hard. “Ah, well it’s no big deal,” you said, flitting a hand with a choppy laugh. “It’s in the past for a reason.”

She pouted. “You know you can talk to me, right?” she said, eyeing you.

And with those words, your chest constricted a little and a small pang of guilt clenched your stomach. You didn’t want to end up hurting her. She was sweet and she wanted to be close to you. But what could you do if you just weren’t ready for that? How could you tell her you may never be ready?

Instead, you turned to her and offered a smile. “I know.”

Blind Date: Y/N…

Blind Date: Please respond. Please.

Blind Date: I really really want to explain everything to you.

Blind Date: I know I really hurt you, but I want to explain.

Blind Date: Isn’t that selfish of me?

Blind Date: To hurt you and then ask you to listen to me?

Blind Date: I’m sorry.

Blind Date: I’m selfish.

You sighed as you watched your phone. The coffeeshop was quiet, fewer patrons now that the design students had finished their projects, and you felt safer looking at the onslaught of texts that just wouldn’t stop flooding your phone. You know you can talk to me, right? That’s what Sua said. She had reached out her hand to you.

And you’d pulled back.

You eyed your phone for a long few moments. Wasn’t it time to stop running away because you were scared of being hurt? Wasn’t it time to stop expecting someone to walk all the way across the tightrope to you and start walking to meet them in the middle instead?

Wasn’t it wrong to punish people for something someone else did?

You: Hey…

You: Sorry I haven’t responded. I just needed space I think.

Blind Date: Shit, I know. I’m so sorry.

Blind Date: You know I care about you though, right?

Blind Date: You know I wasn’t trying to hurt you on purpose, right?

You: I mean, we’ve only known each other a few weeks haha.

You: Honestly, I probably overreacted.

You: After everything that happened with that guy I told you about, I think I’m just a little too sensitive. And I took it out on you. And that was wrong.

Blind Date: No, no! Please don’t apologize. Jesus. It’s entirely my fault. All of it.

You: Haha it’s really not. I shouldn’t hold you and him to the same standards when you’re different people. That’s on me.

Blind Date: Can I see you?

You: Huh? So suddenly? I’m working…

Blind Date: The coffeeshop on campus?

You: Yeah…

You: Don’t come right now though!

You: I won’t be able to talk to you anyway.

Blind Date: I’ll wait. When do you get off?

You: Nine…

Blind Date: I’ll see you at nine.

You blushed, staring down at your screen. Since when was he so direct like this? And why did it make your heart race, just a little?

Sua was right. You definitely had a crush…

You watched the front doors as you began cleaning up the coffeeshop. Closing time was coming soon, and with five minutes until nine you were beginning to feel that festering fear that you’d be stood up again. But as that voice returned to your mind, you were quick to quiet it. You wanted to believe in people again. You couldn’t live your life all alone.

So you swept beneath tables and propped chairs atop them. You cleaned the windows. You hummed a pop song to yourself, trying to keep your mind busy. When you glanced outside, you noticed the spring showers had returned and the rain was falling in bullets from the dark sky. With a sigh, you settled down on one of the recliners by the window, watching cars and buses and people speed by. You wondered which one would come inside despite the sign now reading ‘closed’. You wondered who this person was.

Before you realized it, you were dozing off, struggling to keep your eyes open as you reclined against the comfortable cushions. Your breathing became more rhythmic, deeper in your chest with each inhale, and you snuggled into the back of the recliner with a heavy sigh.

And that’s when you heard it. The distinctive ting of the bell dangling over the front door. Your eyes opened wide and you saw his reflection in the mirror beside you. Tall, dressed in dark clothes, hoodie up over his head and an umbrella in his hand, trailing droplets of rainwater onto the wood floor. You wanted to greet him right away, to get a proper look at him, but with your heart racing the way it was you couldn’t find the courage. It was enough for you just to respond to his texts. And now he was here, corporeal, right behind you.

You shut your eyes tight and feigned sleep.

“Y/N?” he called, and somehow you recognized his voice.

No way.

It couldn’t be…

You kept your eyes shut and curled your knees closer to your chest. Slowly, you heard him mill around the shop before pausing beside your recliner. His footsteps got closer, rounding the side of the chair to stand right in front of you. And, quietly, he laughed. And you were certain now. You knew exactly who he was.

You felt a warm, big hand press against the side of your head, smoothing your hair down, and heard a fond sigh. “Jeez,” he mumbled. You felt him crouch down beside your feet and his arm dropped to rest on the arm of the recliner. He gently rocked the chair back and forth for a moment, humming. “Don’t hate me too much, okay?” he asked in a whisper.

And, without another moment’s hesitation, you opened your eyes and stared right down at him. “Jungkook…?” you asked, scanning his face.

His eyes were round with shock and his whole person was wet. He gazed up at you from where he crouched on the floor and, mouth agape, said nothing. Wordlessly, you reached a hand out and touched his cheek with the pad of your index finger. Soaking wet. You sighed and pushed to your feet. Jungkook stumbled a little to accommodate you as you slipped past him to the counter. You rifled through the cabinets before producing a towel. By then, he’d followed you to the counter and was waiting on the other side. Sighing, you waved a hand, signaling for him to join you behind the register. He jumped and followed your silent command, and suddenly you were staring at his broad chest up close.

You swallowed your nerves and draped the towel atop his head. “Dry off,” you said, hopping up to sit on the counter. The lights in the shop were low, and the music still bumped lowly through the stereo. It might have been romantic, if it was anyone else. “Then we can talk.”

He nodded and fluffed the towel through his hair, obscuring his face from view for a few peaceful seconds. “I…I know I have a lot to explain.”

“Yeah,” you said.

He peeked out from behind the towel with one eye, watching you. “Are you mad?”

“Fuming, actually.”

He nodded and let the towel drop to his shoulders. “I expected that,” he said with a sigh. He came to stand in front of your knees, looking right at you with enough sincerity to knock the breath from your lungs. Just like that first date. “I don’t know where to start.”

“So you know Sua?” you asked, letting your heels bounce against the counter’s cabinets.

“Ah, uh, yeah,” he said, rubbing his hands together. “We’re in the same major, so…”

“And you transferred here?”

“Yeah,” he said, meeting your eyes. “It was…no good out in Busan. I missed home too much.”

You nodded, watching your thighs on the counter. “Figures.”

He chuckled wryly. “You know me too well.”

“Thought I did.”

Carefully, he took a single step forward and you jumped, meeting his eyes like a frightened prey. “I never meant for you to carry all that with you for so long,” he said, brows knit and eyes hazy like he may cry. “I didn’t expect you to be so hurt.”

“That’s stupid,” you said. “You can’t tell someone you were only with them out of pity and expect them not to be hurt.”

“I know, I just…Jesus, I’m just stupid,” he said, raking his fingers through his hair. “Since I was moving away, I didn’t want you to waste your time waiting for me to come back, so I wanted to give you a clean break. Since I knew you wouldn’t wanna break up just because of distance.”

You stiffened. “You…what?”

“I didn’t mean it,” he said. “Any of it.”

You felt like you’d been hit right in the diaphragm, like when you play dodgeball and someone throws a ball at your chest. You sat up straighter and stared at him, watching him carefully. “You lied?”

He nodded. “Yeah,” he said, meeting your eyes seriously. It really looked like he might have cried. “I didn’t think it was fair to keep you from meeting new people and making new connections.”

“Then why didn’t you tell anyone we were dating?” you asked, brow low, scanning him for any signs of insincerity.

His eyes went wide. “I…I told you before, my high school friends…they weren’t so great,” he said, shaking his head. “I meant it when I was texting you about all that. How t’s hard for me to find good people.”

“And you didn’t show up to Burger King last time because…?”

He sniffled. “I meant what I said about that too. I was…really nervous. I was scared you’d be disappointed when you found out it was me.”

You sighed. “Why weren’t you just honest with me from the start?” you asked, all animosity draining from your voice as you saw him wiping his red, swelling eyes. “Back in high school. Why didn’t you just tell me all of it then?”

He sniffed and looked away. “I was scared you’d think less of me if you knew I was so insecure. And I didn’t want you to wait for me in college, not when you could’ve been out making new friends.”

“Well, the opposite happened actually,” you said with a dry laugh. “I got really worried that any friends I made would be doing it out of pity.”

Jungkook stiffened. “You…you did?”

You nodded. “Yeah…”

“Shit,” he breathed out, gripping his forehead with two hands. “I’m so stupid!”

Distantly, the sound of the rain picked up outside. You nodded. “Yeah.”

“I’m so sorry,” he said, looking at you once more, startling you with his sincerity. “I messed up so bad. I messed up everything.”

You blinked at him, standing nearly at eye-level, and slowly reached out to wipe beneath his eyes with your fingertips. “Well, you were right about one thing. I wouldn’t have accepted it had you not said what you said.”

He furrowed his brow and leaned into your touch. “I’m sorry.”

“I forgive you,” you said.

He swallowed hard and you watched his Adam’s apple bob. “Really?”

“Well, yeah,” you said with a shrug. “Now that I know everything, it’s hard to be mad at you for being a jerk when you were really just being an idiot.”

He stared at you, inching forward so he rested just between your knees. “I’m so sorry,” he said again.

“Yeah, I know,” you said, letting out half a chuckle as you let your hands drop to his shoulders, giving them a pat.

“Really,” he said, nodding once as he stared right into your eyes.

“Jungkook, it’s-,”

Before you could finish, he had closed the distance between you, one hand grasping your jaw as he pressed a kiss to your lips. You jumped back, eyes wide, and stared at him in shock. He too looked shocked, like he hadn’t meant to do it at all. He shook his head, eyebrows knit, stuttering out syllables that didn’t add up to anything.

“I-I-you-I mean-,” he sputtered, irises shaking. You noticed no small margin of fear in his eyes, like he was terrified he’d messed things up again.

I didn’t want to make any more mistakes, you know?

The words he’d trusted you with through the screen, his sincere thoughts. He really regretted it a lot, didn’t he? Your expression softened as he continued struggling to find words, and, without even really meaning to, you wrapped your fingers around his neck. He didn’t seem to notice, or he was too spooked to comment on it, but you slowly pulled him closer. Just like that day in high school, just like it was when you’d first entered hopefully into this fateful relationship, you leaned in and pressed your lips against his, shutting your eyes. Stunned, he was completely still for a moment before eventually his hands moved to your hips, then slid along your sides, then hooked around your lower back. You hadn’t intended it, but the kiss was getting steamier with each passing moment. You felt his hot breath on your skin as he pulled back to adjust his position before crashing into you again.

As the fever settled down, Jungkook was the first to pull away, but only by a faction so he could speak. “I love you,” he whispered.

You stared wide-eyed at him, only inches away from you, eyes heavy-lidded and forehead resting just barely against yours. “O-Okay,” you said. It was all you could manage.

He chuckled once, still embracing you as he stood between your legs. “That’s it?”

“You expect me to say it back?” you asked.

He smiled, staring down at you. “I guess not.”

“You’re gonna have to give me some time,” you said with a nod.

He nodded too, shutting his eyes as he held you close. Slowly, he moved to rest his forehead against your shoulder, resting against the crook of your neck. “I understand.”

“Like…a lot of time probably.”

“I know.”

You let out a shaky exhale and only then did you realize your hands were shaking. As silly as it seemed, this reunion was pretty jarring to your system. The foundation on which you’d rebuilt your sense of self had broken down beneath your feet, leaving you to stand among the rubble once again. Just like back then. Everything you thought you understood had been proven wrong.

But nonetheless, you smoothed your palms against his back and rubbed gently. Not to comfort him, but to comfort yourself. To let yourself know that, even though it was scary, it was okay to trust people sometimes. Self preservation shouldn’t come at the sacrifice of human connection. And even though you knew the road ahead was going to be long and that trusting Jungkook again would take a long time and a lot of work on his end, you were ready to try.

So, as the two of you left the shop under one umbrella, you drafted a text.

You: Sua, I have SO MUCH to tell you.

[jemej3m]

RADIO CALLER AU RADIO CALLER AU RADIO CALLER AU

OKAY OKAY OKAY OKAY OKAY

I’m way too lazy to link the rest of the parts so here’s the latest one lmao srry 

p3

*

Wymack settled into his chair. He well trusted Neil by now, but Minyard had a reputation that precedented him, so Wymack wouldn’t let the man derail the show with his presence. 

He hadn’t told Kevin about Andrew’s sudden and startling reappearance yet: He knew his son would grow too fanatic and overenthusiastic, and probably put Andrew off all over again. Wymack looked into the man’s credentials: His behavioural record was tarnished to all hell, but every one of his grades had been stellar. It was baffling enough that the name Minyard had remained, lodged in his brain, until Neil had finally admitted who he wanted to co-host.

It was a Tuesday evening, already hitting close to midnight. Through the glass Neil was setting up, the routine old hat by now, but Andrew was lounging in a chair he seemed too familiar with, a lolly-pop in his mouth. 

Wymack leaned into his soundboard and spoke into the comm. “You sure you’ve never been here, Minyard?”

The candy came out of his mouth with a pop. “Nope.” Neil sent Minyard a quiet smile and jostled his shoulder gently. Minyard flipped him off. 

I’m too old for this.

‘This’ entailed: Obvious, middle-school flirting and being away past ten o’clock, both of which Wymack’d had enough of to last the rest of his presumably short lifespan. 

He simply shook his head and settled further into the chair to watch the slow as it went live. 

“Welcome back to Mid-Nights, with me, the same person who’s been hosting this show for months and yet still repeats his name, Neil Josten.” He grinned into the microphone and winked at Wymack, who rolled his eyes. Minyard mirrored him. Maybe Andrew would be the one to finally tame Josten’s shitty attitude. “But guess what? There’s someone else here with me today, cohosting tonight.”

“It’ll be a one-off event, undoubtedly.” Minyard said into his mike. 

“Am I introducing you?”

“You dragged me on here, junkie.”

“I did, didn’t I. Cohosting with me tonight is Andrew Minyard, who’s got some new music and absolutely scathing opinions to share with you all. It’s a pleasure to have you here, ‘Drew.”

“Call me that again and I’ll sew your lips shut.”

Neil just laughed. 

Wymack didn’t have to worry. Neil seemed well versed in conversing with Andrew, who, despite his misgivings, was very good at what he did: Things ran incredibly smoothly, to the point that Wymack realised it was ridiculous that he was here. Of course, he needed to assess Minyard to see if he was up to a permanent gig if he ever wanted one, but Neil easily had it under control. Minyard was way too familiar with the space, the boards and controls: He had to have been here prior, but Wymack wasn’t going to ask.

They made a good pair, Wymack thought. He wondered what they’d say if he offered them a prime-time spot. 

It hit about two-thirty in the morning and Wymack hit the comm button mid-way through a song. “I’m going home. Congrats, Minyard. You better not have razed my studio to the ground by the time I get back here in a few hours.”

“Can’t make any promises.” The pint-sized man muttered. Wymack simply shook his head and tucked his chair under his desk, shoving his notes into his bag and filing out with his keys hanging off his ring finger. 

It could just work. Neil and Andrew in evening peak-hour, the most promising intern Robin running graveyard shifts, and Allison moving up and out to the news broadcasting position she’d been offered. 

It all fit together, like a hideous puzzle. Wymack didn’t mind: He’d keep adding pieces and making the FM-OX network a home for his kids.

*

“How’d you like that?” Neil insisted, forever obsessed with his work. Andrew rolled his eyes, standing up and pushing the chair under his desk. “It was good, wasn’t it?”

“You can’t think you’ll successfully entertain me with your own obsessive tendencies.”

“Fine.” Neil challenged. “I’ll let you drop me home if we go to Sweeties on the way.” 

Andrew narrowed his eyes. Neil didn’t give in to an argument so easily, especially not one that had been consistent over the past few weeks. Neil, as Andrew eventually discovered, walked home in the dead of the night after his show. Like the reckless idiot he was. As if his striking features and scars didn’t draw enough attention to him: He deliberately put himself in harms way so often, and so carelessly, that Andrew wondered what kind of childhood he must have endured to be so infuriatingly reckless. 

He’d asked Neil why he was so obviously flippant about himself. Neil had retorted with a sharp “I do care. I just can’t trust anyone to look out for me in my stead.” 

“Can’t, or won’t?” Andrew offered. Neil, in a particularly bitter mood that day, had said nothing else. 

Now Neil was letting Andrew drop him home. He had to want something. 

“Only if you get me fries and ice cream.”

“Pl - Don’t put them together. I’ll be sick.”

Andrew noticed the way he caught himself before saying ‘please’. It was the little things about Neil that had him stumbling over himself as he fell deeper and deeper into the hole that was being attracted to Neil Josten, when he realised that Neil adhered to every one of his boundaries. 

“Funnily enough, I couldn’t give less of a shit. Let’s go, Josten.”

They’d queued good music on the station in their absence and listened to it whilst Andrew drove with the windows down, careening into Sweeties’ drive-through. Neil had a small smile playing across his lips, curls fluttering in the breeze. When the car rolled to a stop his cheeks were flushed red, looking utterly windswept. Andrew had to avert his eyes. 

Neil ordered for him, seeing as he’d spent the past four hours talking intermittently - more than he’d ever had to before, but also surprisingly easy when it was with Neil. 

The other man said just what Andrew was thinking as they sat in the parking lot, Andrew dipping curly fries into strawberry ice-cream and Neil breathing in the steam from his black coffee. 

“And to think this all happened because you called me one night.” Neil muttered, a teasing sparkle in his eye. 

“You were confounding enough to keep my interest.” Andrew said dismissively. 

“Am I still? Confounding?”

Yes and no. Andrew felt like he knew nothing about Neil. He’d known Neil did a course with Kevin and got into FM-OX through Kevin’s connections. He knew he didn’t talk to his family, that his scars were a premeditated attack from someone he knew. He knew Neil liked the colour grey and fruit and obscure, unknown musicians and the radio and that he didn’t celebrate his birthday. He didn’t have a car and liked going for jogs in the morning and took his coffee plain black and had moved around a lot as a kid. Neil was smart enough to entertain anyone on a specific topic, but he never let on that he knew more than he should for some scrawny young guy in the middle of a scrappy South Carolinian city. 

Other than that, Andrew had nothing. Neil was like water between his fingers: Cool, refreshing, but impossible to get a grasp on. 

“You’re still irritating.” Andrew answered. Neil just snorted and drank his coffee. “You haven’t eaten and definitely shouldn’t be drinking coffee at this hour.”

“I can take care of myself,” Neil argued, hiding behind his cup. 

“Clearly.” Andrew grunted, shoving the car into reverse once he’d finished and pulled out of the empty parking lot. 

Neil’s home was relatively close to FM-OX studios, a decrepit looking doorway between two crusty shop-fronts that lead to studio apartments that looked down on the street. Neil clambered out but turned around and leaned back into the car with a shit-eating grin. 

“I had a good time, ‘Drew.” Like he was dropping Neil home from a date. Should he walk him to the door? Kiss him on his doorstep? How horrifically cliché. 

Andrew scowled. “Don’t get comfortable, junkie.”

Neil winked. The fucking bastard winked. “Keep an eye out for a call from Wymack. He might just have an offer that’ll be too good to resist. See you soon, Minyard.” The car door slammed behind him. 

Andrew was too late, distracted by watching Neil in his jeans and button-down walk to the front door of his apartment block, but still muttered “Fucking asshole.” like Neil was still there to hear him. 

He thought he’d be exhausted, but he was fucking wired beyond belief. Even when he laid on his bed upon arriving home, he couldn’t bring himself to close his eyes. Sleeping would reset the day. And Andrew wouldn’t admit this to anyone, not even to himself: 

He didn’t want it to end. 

*

ibfnakhrualhifwkjdbhferghifwuekjnhv HOW MANY PARTS WILL IT TAKE FOR THIS PINING TO BE OVERRRRR

[neoneversleeps]

peanuts | l.dh

pairing: lee donghyuck x reader

genre: tooth rotting fluff

warnings: none

description:

Keeping your eyes open at what must be one of the must boring events you’ve ever been to when you’re already low on sleep is an exceptionally hard challenge. Luckily, your seat partner seems determined to keep you awake. 

words: 1.5k

requested by anon: 

“hello i was wondering if you could write something where you’re at an award show and the only thing keeping you awake is the guy sitting next to you’s commentary ? (johnny or donghyuck pls) ty !”

notes: i tried to make this as bubbly and light as i could because it just really fit with the theme for me, so expect a lot of giggles and smiles throughout this small drabble. (also i hope you don’t have a peanut allergy or else this could be awkward jahsdfv) anyways, hope you enjoy reading, anon! ♡

"And the winner is…" 

A name foreign to you is called out and the ring of applause that sounds out from around you is what forces your eyes back open from where they'd been drooping shut. You subtly try to stifle a yawn behind your hand before clapping along, a beat later than the crowd. The past few days had been particularly tiring for you, and between work, your studies and outings with your friends you had found close to no time to sleep. 

And of course, as fate would have it, during your one free day, you mom dragged you to one of her many events. Some award show that also doubled as a fundraiser for whatever organization your mother was currently working with. You could never quite keep up with the amount of times she bounced around between jobs. 

Your eyelids fall dangerously low again as you hear a voice right beside your ear. "Falling asleep, are we?" 

The sudden noise causes you to shoot up, whipping your head to look at the young man sitting in the chair next to you. His light brown hair is styled away from his face, leaving his forehead in full view. His tan skin stands out against the crisp black and white of his tux and your eyes can't help but wander over the elegant slopes of his face. You can't help but note that this stranger looks very very handsome. You hadn't even noticed him before now, too engrossed in your own little world to pay attention to your surroundings. 

You choke on your spit just a little before forcing out a somewhat pathetic "I wasn't falling asleep." The stranger laughs at what you say and you can't help but chuckling with him just a little, realizing the obviousness of your lie. 

"Hey, I don't blame you. This award show is boring as hell." 

You turn to the stranger, a totally serious look on your face. "My mom organized this event." His eyes widen almost comically as he sits up straighter, already fumbling over his apologies. It's your turn to laugh wholeheartedly at his helplessness. His previous shocked expression turns into a playful scowl and he narrows his eyes at you. 

The presenter's echoing voice is what draws your attention back to the stage in front. The man takes out a new set of cards, reading through them at a quick pace as he fixes the glasses perched on his nose. You feel the handsome stranger lean in closer to you on your side. "You know, I bet he's gonna mess up this next guy's name." You raise a questioning eyebrow at your seat partner before focusing back on the presenter. Sure enough, he completely butchers the winner's last name, stumbling through the syllables of the word with great difficulty. 

You turn to the young man beside you once again. "How did you know that was gonna happen?" He shrugs, not even sparing you a glance as he answers swiftly. "I already know exactly who'll win what award." Your eyebrows draw together at his confession. "What? How?" 

"Because it's rigged." He turns his gaze towards you, a serious look to his face. It only lasts a second though, before he bursts out laughing. His laugh is full in its glory, a melodious sound that escapes him as he bends forward slightly. He quiets down only after there's a small shush from behind you both.  "Oh my God, you should've seen the look on your face just now!" 

You roll your eyes at him and move one of your hands to slightly push at his shoulder, a smile finding its way to your face despite yourself. "So how do you know?" 

"I caught a peek at the presenter's cue cards earlier." He says nonchalantly as he rummages around for something in his blazers inner pocket. You huff out a small laugh. "Cheeky." 

He clicks his tongue as he pulls out a bag of peanuts, plopping one of them into his mouth with ease. Your stomach growls slightly at the sight. You hadn't eaten anything since lunch. "You've got snacks?" You question in disbelief, not having seen any form of food anywhere at the venue. 

Another peanut finds its way into the guy's mouth. "Yeah, I smuggled them in. You want some?" You nod eagerly, reaching into the small package and pulling out a handful of nuts. The guy chuckles as you plop a few into your mouth and you look at him in confusion. "What's so funny?" 

"Nothing. It's just- I find it funny how you don’t even know my name and yet you’re accepting my offer of peanuts. These could be poisoned, you know?” 

You bring your hand up to your mouth to stifle a snicker, before reaching over and grabbing another handful from the small plastic bag in mystery guy’s hands. You cock your head as you shoot him a crooked smile. “I’ll take my chances.” Your currently leaning across the boy, your faces only inches apart as you notice his breath hitch. His eyes flicker briefly down to your lips and you freeze, still close enough to the see the elegant curve of his dark lashes. 

“Donghyuck.” He breathes out. “My name is Donghyuck.” A playful smile forms on your lips, still dangerously near his. “I didn’t ask for your name.” His eyes shift to the side nervously, and you can see the way goosebumps erupt on his caramel skin, before his eyes come back up to meet yours. “Well, I thought you should know, regardless. Seeing as I’m the guy who’s been keeping you awake for the past thirty minutes.” 

Finally, you pull yourself back, leaning against your seat as you gaze over at Donghyuck, whose shy expression has turned into a coy smile. “Y/n.” He blinks once in confusion and a small chuckle falls from your lips. “My name is Y/n. It’s nice to meet you Donghyuck.” You hold out your hand, watching as his long fingers engulf yours in a short handshake. He wears an almost boyish grin on his face when you next look at him. “Well, it’s nice to meet you too, Y/n.”

The next hour or so of the event is spent with you barely holding back a laugh at whatever witty commentary Donghyuck has to offer, emptying out the bag of peanuts and avoiding the glares and shushes of those around you. Not once do your eyes droop with the lively boy next to you, and by the end you feel lighter and filled with more energy than you have in a long time. 

It seems almost far too soon, when the curtains close on the stage and the people around start standing up to shuffle out of the auditorium. You join the crowd, Donghyuck still beside you as you continue to talk about idle things, smiles on both your faces.

After a while you reach the exit and the both of you are left standing side by side under the night sky, a cool breeze ruffling through your hair. A small moment passes where none of you talks, and you use that brief time to glance at Donghyuck’s face underneath the meager glow of the streetlight in front of you. The light casts moving shadows over his elegant features, and his windswept hair paired with the pristine tux he’s wearing make him look like he just stepped out of an old hollywood movie. 

His phone buzzes and you watch as his face shifts to an almost annoyed expression once he glances at the screen of the device. “What’s up?” You break the silence, only for Donghyuck to shoot you an apologetic look. “Ah, I- My brother just texted that he’s locked out of his apartment and I have to go save him. I actually wanted to invite you out to dinner…” His voice trails off as he types something on his phone, undoubtedly and angry text at his brother from his adorable scowl. There’s a flutter in your stomach at his last words and you tap his hand to get his attention. His gaze shifts to you and you simply gesture towards the device in his hands. 

Wordlessly, he hands it over to you. You type in your name and number, unable to hide the way your lips curl upward as you do so. “Well we can reschedule then. Call me. Or text, whichever you prefer.” You hand his phone back to him, only just stifling your laughter at the way his mouth hangs slightly open. You can hear your mother's voice somewhere behind you. Whipping your head around, you find her in the crowd, her eyes no doubt searching for you. 

You turn once again to Donghyuck and, in a quick motion lean up to press a chaste kiss to his cheek. “Thanks for tonight.” Turning on your heel as quick as you can to hide your blush, you find your way over to your mother. She nods at you and heads for the car, you following suit. 

However, once at the car, you allow yourself one last glance over your shoulder. A smile tugs at the ends of your lips when you spot Donghyuck do a small victory dance as he looks down at his phone, where you had saved your number, and your name, complete with a heart.

[sanktnikolais]

Finding the Right One (Part II)

PART I  PART II  PART III

Summary: A trap had been set for them, and they easily fell for it. What would be the outcome of the event?

Word count: 5286

The next morning witnessed Zoya’s sour mood when she attended her first class at nine in the morning with a deep frown and an aura that screamed “try talking to me and you’re dead”. Though it might have been her everyday expression, but this particular morning was a different one.

           “You look like you’re about to punch someone,” David mused. 

           “Trust me, I’ve been contemplating about it.” Zoya wrinkled her nose as she reached for her thermos, and ended up stopping midway. The mentioned container apparently wasn’t there and was still with Nikolai since yesterday morning. “The lack of my morning dose of caffeine is definitely helping with the punching thought.” 

           David chuckled. “Just try to hold yourself from hurting your table.”

           “On it.”

           They were currently at the very last row of their Mechanics class, dreading the lesson about Torsional Stress. It was the lecture that they had been discussing for about two meetings already, and it only got shittier from then on. 

           It was the weight of yesterday’s news and class that added to the pounding of Zoya’s head when it came to her mind all of a sudden, and she desperately wished for a coffee to miraculously appear in front to soothe her soul. 

           Waking up late for her first class on a Tuesday rarely happened—she was always an early riser. But when your group mates were nowhere to be seen, and there were still things needing to be added to your research paper, Zoya knew that switching to nocturnal mode was inevitable. She stayed up until three in the morning to finish the paper herself—all the while thinking of different ways of murdering her group mates—so she decided to close her eyes for a moment.

           Apparently, that moment became several hours. 

           That lead to Zoya waking up twenty minutes before nine and barely having time to do all her morning rituals before leaving her apartment. 

           Her phone screen lit up beside her notebook, and it caught her attention from being glued at the figures on the board. She frowned at the “Sobachka” name of the one that messaged her, and it took her a second to realize that it was Nikolai. Zoya remembered him changing the nicknames in their chat some time ago.

           Uh hey, it said. 

           She continued to frown as she typed. What is it? I’m in class.

           Good news and bad news. What first? Then another message followed a moment later, Pls choose bad news first.

           Zoya sighed exasperatedly. Just spit it out, Lantsov

           There was a short pause on his side. It stretched for about a minute, and then, I broke ur thermos

           What the fuck

           She put a hand to her temple and began rubbing it, trying to keep the pounding from getting worse. She supposed she could kill Nikolai after her headache finally stopped and she was in her angriest state.

           A message followed soon after. Well good news is… Another pause. SIKE HAHAHAHAHAHA

           Zoya closed her eyes and counted to three. Then ten. She should’ve expected this trap from Nikolai himself—she knew him too well to be pulling off jokes like these. Sometimes she questioned the fact that this was the same person who could charm almost everyone, say the worst punchlines, and exasperate the shit out of people.

           Just a quite long scratch on the lid tho but nothing too serious

           I’ll still kill you later

           That’s so sweet, truffle  :”>

           Zoya shut her phone with a huff and went back to focusing on the writings on the board, which now occupied the half of it. She cursed lowly as she tried to catch up with the numbers that seemed to be endless. 

           “Was that Nikolai?” asked David.

           “The one and only,” Zoya muttered in reply—she suddenly remembered him saying the exact words last night—without looking up from writing in her notebook. 

           “Gave you a hard time again?” David wondered, a knowing smile plastered on his face. 

           “He always does.” 

           “What can I say, you’re his favorite person.”

           Zoya snorted. It was starting again. “Favorite person to annoy, you mean.”

           “That too.”

           “You and your girlfriend always say the same thing.” 

           “Trust me, we only say the things we know and see.” 

           Zoya scoffed but said nothing more, knowing that arguing with David would just prolong their discussion about the aforementioned blond and it would only lead to him saying that she should start dating and some other shit. 

           Her hookups and pleasure escapades weren’t unknown to them—Nikolai had been the first one to know about it. While there were times that they wouldn’t mind one bit, there were far too many times with one of them saying that Zoya should come in terms with her “obvious” feelings for her president and just tell him the truth.

           It had become tiring as time went by because there wasn’t really anything to tell. 

           Their professor stopped writing on the now-full board and gave them a nod. “We’ll continue this next meeting. Class dismissed,” she said curtly. 

           Zoya raised an eyebrow as she glanced at her watch. It was five minutes to eleven, much to her shock. And David’s as well. 

           “Seriously, blink a few times, and then the two hours of Mechanics is over,” David muttered with a frown. “I’m starting to think that we shouldn’t blink during those two hours.”

           Zoya nodded grimly. “Truly. I cannot stress that enough.” 

           “You getting an early lunch?” 

           “No, I still have to finish something in Sep. Maybe at twelve. I still have an hour.”

           David got up from his seat and shrugged his backpack on. “Don’t stress yourself too much.” He gave Zoya a mock salute. “I’ll see you later, general.” 

           Zoya wrinkled her nose at the nickname. It was a known nickname among them that was meant to annoy her at times, the name originating from her strict, play-by-the-rules attitude when they started running the council and her downright practicality. Apparently, they knew when to exactly use it to irate her. 

           “Scram, Kostyk,” she muttered, shooing him away with a dismissive hand. 

           The man chuckled and gave her a final wave before leaving the room. Zoya stuffed the things in her bag and left the room as the students from the next class started pouring in through the doors. She decided to head down to her usual turf, which was the library, and finish the problem set she had been working on for her Separation Process major in the past week.

           More than an hour into her task, Zoya received a message from Genya. Usually Zoya would just ignore the notifications coming in from her phone. But the pounding in her head made her want to look away from what she was doing.

           Lunch out? 

           Zoya was almost done with her work, but she entertained the idea. She usually ate at past one in the cafeteria to save time from travelling to and from the campus to eat lunch.

           She typed back a reply. Now?

           Yep, I already reserved a table at Carveya. 

           You know really know which place to drag me, Safin.

            I do my best, Nazyalensky 😉

Fifteen minutes later, Zoya found herself sitting by the table nearest to the window in Carveya reserved under Genya’s name, and yet the other woman still wasn’t there. Genya wasn’t the type to be the later one to come to meetups, and Zoya could only count on one hand how many times the redhead was late. 

           The small restaurant was thankfully warmer inside, or else she would have had to bear an hour of shaking because of the constant coldness in the places she went to. Only a few people were currently around, despite the fact that it was lunch time. The place was popular among the students of their university, being the nearest affordable dining place with a high-quality tasting menu.

           Zoya furrowed her brows as she checked her phone, and looked at the last message sent almost a minute ago that said, almost there. It was already thirty minutes past twelve in the afternoon, and it was a good thing that her next class was at three. 

           Hurried footsteps resounded behind her, and Zoya turned her head just in time to see the person coming towards her table was definitely not Genya. 

           “You’re so not my favorite nerd anymore, Kostyk,” he was saying as he glared down at his wallet and violently thumbed through its contents. “I had to shower for two minutes tops and grab the nearest shirt I could find—”

           Their eyes finally met, and Nikolai abruptly stopped talking. He squinted as his hand absentmindedly tapped around his chest for his thin-framed glasses and slipped it on. His gaze sharpened and he recoiled back slightly, mouth agape.

           “Oh, you’re not David,” he said in exasperation. “Too pretty to be David.”

           Zoya took in his demeanor—his hair was obviously windswept like someone decided to drop a mess of blonde hair on his head and it stuck out in different directions, his long-sleeved shirt was rumpled and unevenly tucked into his gray slacks, and he looked like he just ran away from something bad he did.

           How can he still look good? Some part in the back of her mind said, and Zoya shoved the voice back to hiding because she was not thinking of that. 

           “Why are you here?” she demanded, an eyebrow shooting up to her forehead. 

           “I can ask the same question to you, truffle.” Nikolai looked around the place before turning back to her with a frown. “Where in the saint’s name is our favorite nerd?”

           “What’s going on?”

           “He told me to come here and pay for his bill because he forgot his wallet—”

           Zoya closed her eyes and rubbed a hand to her temple when she finally connected the dots. It didn’t even need a genius to figure that one out. That nerd and his girlfriend—

           A snapping sound jerked her out of her tired thought and she opened her eyes to see Nikolai looking at her with worry, his eyebrows furrowed. “You alright, Zo?”

           She waved a dismissive hand. “Sure, I’m just planning a murder in my head.”

           “Oh, perfectly normal, I’d say. But really, have you seen David anywhere here?”

           Zoya looked at him incredulously. How could he be one of the smartest minds in their department and yet still not be able to comprehend obvious things? It made her want to include him in her murder plan. “You’re still going to ask that?” 

           Nikolai gave her a puzzled look, and he looked so innocent that Zoya didn’t know if he was just pretending or just downright oblivious. Or dumb, she added in thought. “Uh, yes? Maybe he’s already washing the dishes in the kitchen as the mode of payment—”

           He was cut off when someone in waiter’s uniform approached their table with a huge grin on his face. His name tag displayed “Isaak”, and the way he looked at them with glinting eyes suggested a not-so-good intention to Zoya. 

           “Welcome to Carveya!” the waiter Isaak greeted a little too enthusiastically. “Fortunately, you have been chosen as our lucky customers for today and everything on the menu is on the house.”

           Nikolai held up a hand, his face becoming even more confused. “Uh, what—”

           “Please, have a seat.” Isaak ushered—forced—Nikolai down the seat, the grin never leaving his face. He clasped his hands together afterwards. “Now that everything looks settled, may I take your—”

           “Coffee,” Zoya said with finality, cutting the waiter off, and the grin on his face suddenly disappeared. He opened his mouth as if to say something more, but Zoya continued, “Black, no sugar. The strongest one you can make. Probably enough to keep me up for a week. Can you do that, Isaak?”

           Isaak obviously paled, but managed to return his grin albeit not being as bright as earlier, and it looked more of a grimace rather than a smile. She was about to say something snarky to the waiter, but she decided that she was already too tired to even say anything. 

           Besides, she knew Isaak. Being a regular in the place for years would surely familiarize her with almost everyone working there. She could only guess that two of her rather favorite people made the younger waiter their accomplice, knowing that Isaak was the usual one to take their orders whenever they went there.

           “I’ll take the same as hers, I guess,” Nikolai said, his eyes flickering between the two and looking a little frightened at the sight. “Yeah, I’ll take the same.”

           Zoya lifted a brow at the waiter, and Isaak practically ran off. She huffed and turned back to the table, facing the blond boy across from her. Nikolai’s eyebrows were furrowed, as if he were scrutinizing her inside out. 

           “Did you really have to scare his ass?” 

           “Trust me, I was still holding back.” 

           Nikolai winced. “Remind me again not to do something that might piss you off?” 

           “Do you want it to come with a punch?” 

           “Surprise me. Just not somewhere in the face, it’d damage my handsomeness.” He paused, and then he frowned. He ran a hand through his hair, pushing the strands that fell on his forehead away. “What’s happening again?” 

           Zoya could only roll her eyes as the man’s obliviousness brought an ungodly amount of exasperation to her whole self that made her want to reevaluate her life decision of being friends with him. “Our favorite nerd and the redhead set us up.”

           “What do you mean they—” Nikolai stopped, the crease on his eyebrows disappearing as a look of realization dawned on his face. Finally. He slumped back further into the chair with a dry laugh. “That’s screwed up.” 

           “Tell me about it.” 

           “Knowing those two, they’re the best ones when it comes to planning. And they’re probably not going to stop until they achieve what they wanted. I’m surprised you out of all people fell for this.” 

           Zoya suddenly gave a laugh, which she rarely did, but a memory flashed in her mind and she couldn’t help it. “Oh, I just remembered the last time I was duped by those two,” she said, her tiredness slowly dissipating.

           Nikolai deadpanned, trying his best to look stern, but failed as usual. He raised an accusing finger at her. “Don’t.” He scowled and Zoya gave him a sly grin. Then he whined, “No, don’t remind me of that.”

           The scene played in her mind clearly—David and Genya were able to lure her to the rooftop of the science building and locked the door leading to the stairs as an “end of the school year” prank on her that she wasn’t aware existed at that time. It had been one of their milestones to be proud of because they were able to “pull a prank on Zoya Nazyalensky”.

           Unbeknownst to Zoya, she hadn’t been the only one stuck up in the place and it was already occupied by none other than Nikolai Lantsov himself—but it was a sulking Nikolai Lantsov she had seen. 

           Apparently, the blond was mulling Alina Starkov’s rejection to him, and he had stated that he was never rejected before and said other petty reasons to be sulking. 

           It ended up with Zoya kicking him rather solidly and telling him to stop being a “dumbfuck”, and she would never forget the look of shock that had been etched on Nikolai’s face. They were only acquaintances at the time, both being the top of their respective classes, but it still didn’t stop her from berating him about his whining. 

           Somehow, that started their close bond up to today.

           Though he’d never admit it aloud until now, Zoya knew he didn’t exactly want someone to see him in that state. But she did, and she would always have that ace against him.

           “Funny how nothing’s changed even after years,” Zoya commented, and she had to relish Nikolai’s protesting reaction because he was almost never riled up. “Still a dumbfuck.” 

           Nikolai grimaced, but amusement only filled his eyes. “Harsh.”

           “Honest.”

           “If you’re honest, then can you admit that I’m actually unfairly handsome?”

           “I should’ve known better than to fall for Genya’s trap.”

           “And risk not seeing me earlier than necessary today?”

           “You’re an idiot, Nikolai.”

           Their coffees arrived at that moment, and Zoya took the scalding drink, not minding if it burned her tongue while taking a sip, and the strong taste of the brew kicked her senses awake. The coffee tasted better than she expected.

            Nikolai reached for his own mug. “You’re that desperate for caffeine, aren’t you?” he asked, his head slightly inclined to the side. 

           “Calms my thoughts.” Zoya tipped her mug a little as a gesture before putting it down. “Care to join my assassination plan?” 

           The blond sputtered on the rim of his mug and he set it down, wiping his mouth on the edge of his sleeve. “I thought you said it calms your thoughts down?”

           “Isn’t that the point?”

           “Well, I suppose I can help you with that. I’ve never showered that fast in my life.” Nikolai shrugged. Then he leaned forward with his hands clasped in front, resting his elbows on the table. His hazel eyes held a glint of curiosity and playfulness. “I’ve been meaning to ask. Why do you never date, anyway?” 

           The question seemed to trigger a memory, and it flashed in front of Zoya’s eyes. She didn’t want to remember those times again. “We both know why,” she stated simply.

           “The same reason?” 

           “I guess.” She shrugged back, then she raised a knowing brow at him. “What about you? Why do you never date?” She gestured a hand in the air. “You sure do have tons of fangirls, and fanboys, on campus.”

           Nikolai chuckled lightly. “I’d rather find someone who has the same insights as I have,” he replied, his eyes having this faraway look like he was daydreaming. “I guess I just haven’t found the one yet.”

           Zoya eyed the blond carefully. Nikolai was probably the biggest sap she ever knew, and she probably couldn’t blame the guy. He was the type to believe that “improbable” things can always happen, always trying to find the light on things, while Zoya grew up being downright practical and believing in the reality. 

           “You’re probably thinking I’m a sap again, aren’t you?” Nikolai huffed. “Come on, truffle. It’s not all that bad to believe there’s someone for you.”

           “When it comes from you, it’s that bad.” 

           Nikolai only raised a brow as if he was challenging her, and Zoya accepted by crossing her arms in front of her and staring right back. “You have to do better than that, Nazyalensky.”

           It made her a tad bit surprised. Usually it was Nikolai who backed down from their stare off contest. “Your point being?”

           “Let me prove you wrong.” 

           Now that piqued her attention. Being the practical one did have its perks too—she was rarely proven wrong. She knew what challenges she would take, and most of the time it ended with her as the victor.

           Zoya could only hope that this was one of those challenges.

           “Humor me, Lantsov.”

           Nikolai grinned, leaning back into his chair comfortably. “Let’s make a deal.”

           She raised a brow at that. Genya setting them up had already been a pain, and striking a deal with Nikolai would probably be another one, and definitely much bigger. But yet again, the fact that she was close friends with him already came with lots of headaches and twists—plus the need of endless patience—in her everyday life. 

           What could be different?

           “This better be good.” 

           “It will be, truffle.” He paused, looking at her expectantly as if he were giving her a chance to back out. But Zoya had already been in, and she wouldn’t back down from it. “We’ll help each other find our own ‘right one.’”

           It almost made her want to laugh, but then she remembered this was Nikolai’s way of proving her wrong and it would be downright rude. Though she knew the odds were on her side, Zoya supposed she would entertain his idea. “Alright, dear president, how do we do that?”

           “Find someone that might fit our ideals.” Nikolai held up a finger. “Just a sec.” Then he proceeded to fiddle with his wallet and took out a small piece of paper. 

           She frowned as he began to write something down on it before giving it to her a good whole minute later. “What is this?”

           Zoya stared at the piece of paper Nikolai gave her. She read the writings, and looked up at him in disbelief. The blond boy across the table would be the literal death of her—if she didn’t kill him first. She should’ve known this was a bad idea, especially when it came from him of all people. Too late to back down now.

           “Are you serious?” she said, holding up the paper. “The ideal list? What are you, in middle school?”

           Nikolai gave her the barest of shrugs, pushing himself back to the chair in a more comfortable position. “What about it? It’d be easier for you to find someone,” he said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, a carefree smile that screamed all-Nikolai evident on his face. “Aren’t you glad that I’m making it easier for you?”

           Zoya snorted. “You’re obnoxious.”

           “Thank you. I’d take that as a compliment from one of my favorite people.”

           “You’d rather not.”

           “Trust me, truffle, I’d rather take it.”

           She rolled her eyes and frowned at the paper in her hand again. There were three things listed below the extravagant handwriting of “The Ideal List” and she had to narrow her eyes as she read it again. The symptoms of another migraine were already coming her way.

           Smart.

           Generic one, but fair enough. Golden Boy’s intellectual capacity was the sky. Though he could be dumb like most of the time. 

           Sporty.

           Zoya wrinkled her nose. “You could’ve at least used the word ‘athletic’, Lantsov.”

           Nikolai sputtered. “That was what I was thinking earlier!”

           Smoky hot.

           “Why am I friends with you again?”

           “Because I’m charming?”

           “Try harder.”

           Nikolai bowed his head a little, looking at Zoya above the frames of his reading glasses, his eyebrows slightly creased. She had never accustomed herself to how good he looked when he started wearing glasses at the start of their third year, but Zoya would never admit it out loud. It would just boost his ego and she would probably never hear the end of Nikolai teasing her about it.

           “These are all generic ones,” Zoya said a moment later, trying to distract herself from the intensity of his gaze. “Don’t be surprised with the ones I’ll find.”

           “There’s actually a fourth one, if I remember it correctly.” Nikolai gestured a finger down, a sheepish smile appearing on his face. Then he hesitated, inclining his head to the side. “I did write a fourth one, didn’t I?”

           Zoya looked back down at the small paper, and there indeed was a fourth one written at the very bottom part of the surface and it was definitely smaller than the other three that it was almost unreadable unless looked at in a very close distance.

           Could probably handle my restlessness. 

           She felt a sudden tinge of pain in chest, and she had to release a breath to make it disappear. What was that just now? Zoya tried to ignore the feeling and eyed the writing on the paper again. “The last one’s quite a catch. This is going to be hard.”

           “It’s fine, I just don’t want to burden anyone with this.” He gestured vaguely at his head with a light laugh. 

           Though he said it jokingly, Zoya knew him too well to notice the underlying meaning of his statement, the faraway look in his eyes as he talked, and the slight hunching of his shoulders. She knew about the insomnia, had known about it when he opened up to her one time long ago, and she could only imagine the weight he had to carry for years yet he still had a positive perspective.

           I figured I’d disturbed you enough in the past week. His words echoed in her mind, and it became clear to her. 

           Nikolai was the type of person that was always ready to offer his help and be someone you can rely on, but would never ask for anything back. Even when he’s already the one crumbling and in need of help, he’d still be able to give himself. 

           It was one of the traits that Zoya had witnessed him develop for the past years, and there was a part of her that wanted to be at least one of the people that could reach out and catch him whenever he fell.

           “I’ll see what I can do, Lantsov.”

           “How about you?”

           “What about me?”

           Nikolai waved a hand in a wild gesture. “Aren’t you going to tell me what characteristics you want for a partner?”

           Zoya mocked a laugh. “As long as the person you find is not as revolting as you, I see no problem,” she replied.

           “You wound me, love,” Nikolai said, feigning a hurtful expression, a hand on his chest. But she could see the amusement clearly in his eyes. Ever the dramatic and sappy one. 

           She winked. “I do my best.”

           Now she could only hope that this whole ‘deal’ wouldn’t end in a disaster. But knowing the luck tied to her, Zoya knew it would be impossible to expect that kind of result.

           She supposed she would really kill Genya and David for setting them up. But for now, she had something to deal with.

The drive back to the campus was rather a quick one, with the time being less than fifteen minutes to Nikolai’s next class and he had to basically let the car fly along the roads to get into Ravka in time.  

           Zoya wasn’t really paying attention to it for most of the time—though she did scold him for disobeying a few traffic rules that could’ve caused them more trouble—because she was too busy deciding which one she would beat first between their two council members. 

           “Okay, I’d know that face you’re making from anywhere,” Nikolai said, effectively snapping Zoya out of her thoughts as he was steering the car to the parking space he spotted. “Don’t beat them too hard, yeah?” 

           “I can’t promise that.”

           “Alright, then. I’ll help with hexing David a little until your tremendous amounts of rage dissipates.” 

           They both got out of the car, with Nikolai in so much of a hurry that he tipped backwards as he pulled his bag out from the backseat, and Zoya fought a laugh from erupting. 

           The blond noticed it and sent a scowl to her direction. “I would be saying at least ten reasons why I’m this clumsy right now if I wasn’t running late.” 

           Zoya chuckled darkly. “Then it’s a good thing you’re running late.” She raised her arm up and tapped on the watch on her wrist. “Move your fucking ass. Four minutes.” 

           She watched in triumph as Nikolai cursed under his breath and bolted to the other direction, only to stop after several steps and turn back.

           Nikolai jogged back towards her as he was pulling something out of his backpack. “No compliments supposedly to you for laughing at me just a minute ago, but really, you saved me yesterday.” He handed her the thermos she had been dreading for the whole morning. 

           True enough to what he texted her earlier, the container did have a long scratch on the lid, painting the gray surface with a white line. Zoya deadpanned, raising the thermos to his face. “Really?”

           He gave her a nervous grin that almost looked like a wince. “That’s on me, it slipped from my hand last night. Apologies.” Nikolai shrugged his pack back on his shoulder, half-turning and almost readying to bolt to the building. “There’s coffee in it as a payment, but it’s only instant. I swear to the saints you make the best coffee brew.” 

           He gave a final wave and took off, giving her a rushed “See ‘ya!” over his shoulder as he disappeared from her line of sight. 

           Zoya only gave a light laugh to the direction the blond disappeared before she was walking back to the council room. She still had two hours to spare before her next class and she was contemplating whether to go back to doing school work or just take a break.

           The odds were surprisingly on her side today, and Zoya was able to spot Genya alone in the council room.

           The redhead didn’t seem to notice her—she was too busy glaring at the laptop in front of her—until Zoya shut the door with a loud bang, and Genya almost jumped out of her seat. She gave Zoya a knowing grin, and the raven-haired had to admire the bravery of smiling before her probable end.

           “I never knew you’d stoop so low, Safin,” Zoya told Genya, crossing her arms. She gave her a narrowed glance. “I should be hexing you right now, and it’s a surprise that I’m not. I must be getting really soft for you.”

           Genya laughed heartily, her eyes wrinkling as she did. “I know you love me, Nazyalensky,” she said, and then she leaned forward and rested her chin on her intertwined hands. “How was it, though?”

           Zoya huffed. “Disastrous.” 

           “Elaborate.”

           “He didn’t stop talking.” 

           Genya frowned. “Isn’t that normal?”

           “A good point, but he had been rambling about the deal we made and I swear one more word from him—” Zoya stopped talking when a movement distracted her, and she noticed that it was Genya suddenly raising a hand up. “What?”

           “What deal?” 

           Zoya was a bit taken aback, realization dawning her as her mind played back the words that she’d just said. Now she had been the one rambling, and she let the emotions take over her words. “Oh, you know, the deal with one of the major sponsors he had been talking to for the upcoming event,” she lied smoothly, though she was already berating herself in her thoughts. “In the end, it was a total disaster, and I can’t believe you two were able to dupe me again into walking right through one of your schemes.”

           Genya raised a brow, a sly grin slowly appearing on her face. “Last time I checked, you and Nikolai became close enough to share a drink from the same cup—”

           “Oh, for the saints’ sake—” 

           “—and to be on each other’s speed dials—"

           “Alright, stop.” Zoya sighed exasperatedly before pointing a finger at the redhead. “I’m letting this one slide, Safin. But I’m still beating David up when I see him.”

           “I’ll tell him to stop coming to his Mechanics, then,” Genya said, amusement obvious in her voice. She shook her head. “You’re impossible, Nazyalensky.”

           Zoya mocked a sweet smile. “Only practical, my dear Genya,” she corrected.

           The redhead only gave another laugh in return before turning back to her task on the laptop, a comfortable silence filling the room afterwards. Zoya almost let herself slip earlier, and she was thankful that she was able to reason out something else to cover up for that slip. She supposed she’d see how far this ‘deal’ she’d agreed to would go before she’d tell Genya about it.

           Perhaps some other time. 

[frostedpuffs]

Can you please rec some fan fics? :)

heck yeah i can! i mostly read love square content though if that’s alright!

//digs through bookmarks and history on ao3

im gonna share some lesser known fics/fics i havent rec’d before rather than the ones most people have read!

It’s All Hype! by @breeeliss (CHECK OUT ALL OF GABIE’S WRITING IT’S SERIOUSLY THE BEST)Summary: Alya accidentally gets the Internet in a frenzy after announcing that Ladybug and Chat Noir are dating, but the two heroes are adamant about correcting the error and making sure the world knows that they’re just friends. So Alya proposes a staged public break up to set everything right. In hindsight, she really underestimated how utterly freaking difficult that would be.Rated: GIncompletePairing(s): Chat Noir/Ladybug

i just came to say hello by @a-miiraculer​ (one of my fav authors, really great with descriptive words and their characters)Summary: In which Nino finds out his best bro is in love with Ladybug, and jumps the Ladynoir and Adrienette ships for Ladrien summarily. Adrien is flustered, Alya takes personal offense, and Marinette finally sees her chance to hit that. What could possibly go wrong?Rated: TIncompletePairing(s): Adrien/Ladybug

The Trouble with Kittens by @seasonofthegeek​ (basically ANYTHING by Season is really great!! super recommend)Summary: Marinette finds out she’s pregnant and decides she can raise the baby on her own. Chat Noir is not okay with that idea.Rated: MIncompletePairing(s): Love square, Chlonath, DJwifi 

Play a game with me by TulveliSummary: Chat Noir convinces Ladybug to play games with him during patrol one night. A seemingly innocent agreement leads to much more than the two heroes had foreseen.Rated: TIncompletePairing(s): Chat Noir/Ladybug

The Parts of You by @ladyofpurple​ (I LOVE THIS FIC SO MUCH. YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND. I LOVE IT. I LOVE IT I LOVE IT THE WRITING IS MAGNIFICENT AND THE CHARACTERIZATION IS ON POINT)Summary: “I just…” Her hands migrated from covering her face to clutching her hair. Her ears matched her suit but her eyes were glowing with — what was that? Love? Admiration? His chest tightened. “I can’t talk to him! I always get tongue-tied, or say something stupid, or trip over my own feet. It’s so embarrassing! I mean, I’ve gotten better since we first met, like, we’re actually kind of friends now, but it’s kind of a big leap to go from ‘I can sort of string more than two words together in front of you,’ to ‘Please date me, I love you,’ you know?” His breath hitched at the word “love,” but Ladybug didn’t seem to notice. “Plus, it’s not like we’re super-close or anything. I mean,” she tittered nervously, “we’ve known each other for years, but it’s not like talking to you.” If words could have killed him he would have been in his grave. In which Identity Shenanigans™ make everyone’s life way harder than it has to be.Rated: TIncompletePairing(s): Chat Noir/Ladybug, Adrien/Marinette

To The Core by @12huesSummary: Marinette realizes that her feelings for Adrien are based off of surface-level celebrity worship and decides to give an actual friendship with him a try. The two find out that they have a lot to learn about putting people on pedestals, and discover what it really means to get to know someone to their core.Rated: TIncompletePairing(s): Adrien/Marinette, Chat Noir/Marinette

soul to keep by boreumdalSummary: Marinette Dupain-Cheng is no stranger to unusual situations. A ghost wandering into her bedroom and pulling her into the mystery of who he was and how he died, however, is a touch out of the ordinary for her–-and falling in love with him might just take the cake. Ghost!Adrien AU.Rated: GIncompletePairing(s): Adrien/Marinette, Chat Noir/Marinette

Meant To Be by @insanitysscribblings (IIII LOOOVOE THIS FIC I LOVE IT SOULMATE AU HECK ME UP)Summary: To miss a man she had never even met before was lunacy. And yet, something about the blonde man with the sun in his smile drew Marinette to him irresistibly, no matter how hard she tried to fight it. Marinette was never one to believe in Fate. But rational thought is rarely a factor in matters of the heart…or of the soul.Rated: TIncompletePairing(s): Adrien/Marinette

prince of cats by @sadrien (i admit i havent read this yet bc i havent read fics in a WHILE but i’m going to read it whenever i get a chance bc i know téa has T HE BEST FICS. pls read téa’s fics please)Summary: Marinette looks up in surprise as she spots movement out of the corner of her eye. She blinks as a black cat leaps up onto the sill of the window at the end of the hall. The cat sits up and licks it paw, shimmering gold in the morning light. Marinette’s neighbor has windswept blond hair, a smile that makes her heart skip a beat, and a cat that glitters gold. Now she just needs to come up with lots of excuses to spend as much time with him as possible.Rated: TIncompletePairing(s): Adrien/Marinette

to you, i thee wed by @miraculousturtle (SUCH A CUTE FIC!!!!!!)Summary: Married at First Sight AU. They didn’t know they were marrying each other until the bride got to the altar. And then panic ensued.Rated: TIncompletePairing(s): Adrien/Marinette

Paris is For Lovers by @geek-fashionistaSummary: On her way home one night, Marinette spots Chat Noir leaping across rooftops and decides to transform and follow him. Little does she know her partner is more of a hopeless romantic than she thought.Rated: GCompletePairing(s): Chat Noir/Ladybug 

[wannaonestars]

the little mermaid au! ong seongwoo

the following scenario is based on the traditional storyline. please keep note that there are many different versions of the story, and not just the disney one.

ok so you’re the mermaid/merman (your preference) who adores humans bc like it’s so cool they have legs?? the idea of having legs and being on land just FASCINATES you and you’re sneaking around the shores to watch humans

and one day you’re just swimming on the surface and saying hi to the cute seagulls when you notice the sky turning dark and the clouds getting shady so like it was basically time to go

but just then you notice a ship floating like nowhere cLOSE to the shore

even though mermaids were always called a myth and you’d get chewed out if anyone saw ur tail you’re like…I need to save them >:((

and so you swim over to save the poor souls when suddenly rain just started POURING and the winds picked up out of nowhere and then you saw a body fall into the sea

you’re like oh shIT and suddenly accelerated in water to save the poor soul

you eventually find him and you get rly alarmed bc he isn’t struggling or anything he’s just kinda lifelessly sinking

you grab him and basically turn into an underwater jet bc you’d never swam so fast no not even when your mermaid mom told you dinner was ready

getting him to shore was so difficult because 1) the human was heavy and 2) you had no legs so you had to crawl to get far enough onto land

the dude (seongwoo if y’all didn’t realize yet) still wasn’t moving and you were panicking like??? he shouldn’t be dead yet

you do the mermaid version of cpr which was to….press your lips against his to suck all the seawater out of him

a minute later you start getting dizzy because you’re getting too dry so you had to crawl back into the sea…and you proceed to go back home but you just…couldn’t get that man out of your head….

meanwhile a princess from a different country visiting seongwoo’s found him collapsed on the beach and shook him awake and seongwoo’s like…what happened??

let’s call the princess rika like that snake from mystic messenger

anywaYS

rika told him that she “”saved”” him from drowning and he’s like…oh and that’s what she ends up telling the his father aka the KING and rumors spread around the palace like crazy like everyone was like damn they probably gonna get married now

meanwhile on yOUR END you were swimming towards the sea witch’s domain to ask for a pair of legs because after being on land and feeling the frustrations of being unable to stay for too long you REALLY wanted to become a human

the sea witch asks for your voice in exchange which was…a huge price

your singing is like the only thing that anyone’s ever praised you for so giving it up would be the same as tossing away half of your identity but…u know what, in the human world no one’s gonna know u anyway  

so she casts a spell and gives you the legs u wanted and then shoots u out of the sea

after you get to shore and struggle to get the hang of walking for like 7 hours you pick up some rags to cover yourself bc that stupid witch didn’t give u any clothes

you just want to explore the village and ur getting looks bc wtf ur wearing some dirty rags with sand all over and wobbling like jello but u don’t rly care

suddenly you find a boy aka sEONGWOO in a quiet part of the area just…dancing and you were like!!! oh my gOD that’s amazing how can his legs and arms move like that…

and without thinking you start…singing a melody to go along with his movements and seongwoo snaps his head around and is like??? holy moly what but a split second later he breaks out into this wide grin and just keeps dancing and going along to your wordless song with a contemporary style

you’re a little weirded out urself bc weren’t u supposed to lose your voice??

the witch from her chamber: SHIT I FUCKED THE SPELL UP

anyways ur like lol whatever my win and when u end your song seongwoo approaches you and is like…hey, who are you?

let’s pause for a second and imagine seongwoo with a long sleeved white collared shirt with the first few buttons not buttoned and like windswept black hair

anyways ur like holy triton he’s hot and you tell him your name and he starts questioning where u live and stuff and why you’re dressed like this and when you’re unable to give him a proper answer he’s like…hey do you wanna come with me? bc he figures that you might be an abandoned child

he smiles that prINCELY smile of his and says “you sing really well. i’d love to have a performance with you again.”

and then he calls his horse over to give you a ride back to the palace

listen…if u thought seongwoo driving a car was good pls imagine prince seongwoo riding a horse

when you guys get to the palace rika dASHES towards seongwoo and swallows him into a hug and you’re both like?????

rika: bABE!!! father agreed to our marriage!!!!!!!!!

seongwoo: what

rika: it’s in two months!!!!!!!!!

seongwoo: wHAT

he’s so confused because his father literally nEVER discussed this with him and then a few seconds later when he finally understood the situation he immediately pushes rika off and sprints to his father’s study to argue

seongwoo: father?? why am I suddenly hearing news of marriage????

father: well, she did save you from drowning

seongwoo: I doubt it wtf her clothes weren’t even WET…like the most she could’ve done was shake me awake dad

father: ridiculous. I believe her claims like i’ve known her for three dayS seongwoo that’s enough for me to be able to tell that she’s an angel >:0. you’re already a young adult my son you need to find a partner soon so unless you can find a better option than rika then this marriage is gonna continue.

ten minutes later seongwoo comes out upset and annoyed and without saying anything else he just leaves for his room

you follow him bc like :((( poor bab. his door wasn’t locked so you just enter and ask if he’s okay

seongwoo smiles a little and just says “yeah…” but you knew he wasn’t

you: hey…it’s okay to talk to me about it

and tbh??? you’re literally the first person who’s ever shown any hint of genuine care for him without any motives…all seongwoo remembered from his childhood was getting spoiled silly because no one dared to get on the king’s bad side

and he tells you how he’s frustrated with all these decisions getting made for him and that he has absolutely no interest in an arranged marriage with someone who he doesn’t even know and for a whole half of hour he kinda just spills to you his entire childhood and the little things that he had been annoyed with but never had anyone to tell

and then he just exhales bc like that was sO much that he just dumped on you…and this is the point in which seongwoo unconsciously develops a special bond with you

and then he lets out a little laugh and ruffles your hair and is like lol sorry…let’s get you some decent clothes to try on ok? and he calls some maids over to get ur shit together

while changing into these weird (BUT EXTREMELY PRETTY) new clothes you realize that he was the boy you saved…but who would believe you?? you couldn’t be like hey guess what i’m the mermaid who saved u but i became a human last night

like the ppl here seem stupid but not that stupid

when you meet seongwoo again at the balcony with your combed hair and pretty clothes seongwoo was like oh my god…..they look gorgeous

he didnt say that tho like this is still ong mcongity the ongth ongster seongwoo

so he just winks and said “you’re gorgeous but….well, now ur next to me buddy ;)”

you shove him a lil and he laughs and then he asks u if you could sing for him again

and he just dances to your music all night long with an expression of pure bliss and at some point he grabs your hands and makes you dance with him hehe

cue ur dumb mermaid butt falling and tripping like 99 times but seongwoo enjoys it so much that he just laughs and pretends to fall with you

the next few days is just you and seongwoo singing and dancing like whenever y'all pass by each other in the hallways he makes the uGLIEST expression and just moves his arms and legs like an octopus and that always makes you giggle so hard bc that actually reminds u of ur octopus friends fredrick and joseph back at sea

he didn’t give a flying flick about wedding preparations and always avoided talking about it by grabbing you and fleeing to the town square to perform in front of whoever wanted to watch

rika always got livid whenever she hears that both the prince and u disappeared and would stay up as late as she could to “talk about it with her future husband” but u know what seongwoo doesn’t give a flying flick about her either so it’s just “yeah yeah” before he leaves again

you two get so much recognition and love from the townspeople they’re adore the performances so much and just get drawn to y’all like they’re in a trance

it’s so much fun!! some people even joke that u two are perfect for each other lmao

seongwoo: folds his ears to hide the blushing red tips

and then it gets to the point where!!! the king!!!!! asks you two to perform for the visiting countries!!!!!!!!!

it’s such an honor but honestly you feel so pressured bc like what if your voice cracks???? but seongwoo notices your nervousness quickly and so he walks over and grabs your hands and squeezes them and just says

“i believe in you.”

and your heart just MELTS bc…seongwoo had the softest and most gentle look on his face when he said that

“i really, truly, absolutely, definitely, totally—”

“stop,,,,right there,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,” like dammit seongwoo DONT RUIN THE MOMENT

and then he takes your hand in a much more elegant manner and leads you onto the dance floor…where the two of you perform with every fiber of your being

once your song and his dance and the thunderous applause ends seongwoo turns to you with this grin that stretches across from one end of his face to the other and u rly can’t resist smiling back as widely as he is

a short while later you two are at the balcony again laughing about stuff when suddenly seongwoo goes “you know…I really wish that this could go on forever…like, just you and i dancing and singing together until my bones break”

you don’t know what to say to that bc his expression is so serious like he doesn’t look like the usual joking dude who eats ur slice of pizza when ur not looking

and suddenly u feel seongwoo leaning closer to you….like his face is INCHES away from yours and u can feel his breath on your skin…….

“if you agree to it…i can ask my father to stop the wedding so that….you and i can be together instead…”

you’re like sweating right now bc??? what is he saying???? and for a few seconds you can’t tell whether that loud thumping sound was coming from your chest or his

“you’re the first person who i’ve been able to confide in and talk to…I don’t care what your background is, I—actually, what am I saying haha this is embarrassing, never mind—”

“yes”

his eyes pop wide open and he’s like??? what?????

you make this embarrassed lil smile and just go,,, “i’m willing to spend the rest of my life with you, ong seongwoo.”

seongwoo’s entire body just flares up and this burst of joy EXPLODES within him and he’s absolutely unable to contain it so he suddenly pulls you into a bear hug and spins you around and around

and he’s laughing like…after over twenty years of being treated like a he could never be a normal person and enduring the fake kindness being thrown at him for self benefit he finally found happiness and it’s honestly the BEST feeling that he’s ever experienced

and you’re laughing while in his arms but the you suddenly say “"hey…but what if i’m a mermaid?”

he almost drops u like wHAT

but then a second later his wits take over bc hey he’s ong mcongity the ongth ongster seongwoo

and he makes this playful grin and is like “it was my childhood dream to marry a mermaid”

this is probs gonna be like the longest scenario I ever write… anyways, thank for reading this far LOL I hope you liked it!! this is probably 100 times more cliche and stupid than it already was in my head but lmfao i’ve always kinda wanted to put twists in original fairy tales. maybe i’ll do this for other members? idk, we’ll see how much inspiration I can get ٩( ᐛ )و 

[esseastri]

Megan Reads Oathbringer (part 7)

blerg, I wanted to hit page 500 in the last chunk o’ liveblog, but alas. We continue on. This book is just too dense, the liveblog posts are too long and I will continue to mention that in every one of these posts, ‘cause it’s wild just how much is in here!

Part 7 encompasses pages 476-557 (previous parts)

OOOOOOOH JASNAH POV!!!!

hey, her art bubble is the old Shallan art bubble. that’s...boring. why doesn’t she get her own?

I’m emotional about Taln forever and ever

Jasnah being paranoid about her safety and assassins and stuffing her ventilation shaft with cloths is...so... You don’t expect Jasnah to be scared, but here she is. It makes perfect sense--she got stabbed through the chest, of course she’s scared--but she’s so poised and in control, you just don’t expect it.

OMG Jasnah had back up files of her notes!!! That’s brilliant.

spanreeds are so cool

do we know which type of spren Ivory is? if we do I don’t remember.

just keep reading, Megan, they’ll tell you. Inkspren. ...of course.

also, I’d been wondering how Jasnah was “broken”--since all the Radiants are--and somehow I never expected childhood illness. that’s a logical breaking point, but I never even thought of it.

THERE WAS A JASNAH AND HOID’S MOST EXCELLENT ADVENTURE!!! THERE WAS!!! I’VE BEEN ROBBED!!!

but also, wtf did she learn, what did she learn from him. I’m guessing it’s the same thing the Stormfather refused to tell Dalinar... about all ten orders returning.

god, I really, really hope that my theory about them replacing the Heralds is wrong. I don’t want that. ..

(It’s a good theory though; the first new members of the ten orders all make a new Oathpact at the end of the fifth book. the back five are about their first time breaking and the first Desolation post-this one. It’s awful and I don’t want it, but you gotta admit, it’s an interesting theory, at least in a meta way.)

also I’m sad no one likes the honorspren. Syl is such a good. then again, she’s different than her peeps, she always says.

gaahhh, the Moash chapters are killing me every time I see that patchless shoulder I just die a lil bit inside

“Compared to bridge duty, this was paradise.” I’M CRYING??? This is so, so much the ‘I did that, so I can survive anything’ mentality and I’m cry.

okay, but can all of the Fused use all of the Surges? or do they all do different things? Do they have the equivalent of radiant orders?

(I’m going to be so excited if Moash gets a spren, but I feel like he maybe has to take responsibility for his actions first...)

aaahh Moash is taking the Kaladin route of “I don’t care about these people but storm it, I’m helping them anyway”.

OH SHIT Those are the ones who Kaladin helped, aren’t they... they brought “a false god” that was Kaladin shit shit shit they are getting punished for him. He would die if he knew, oh god.

AAAHH MOASH IS A GOOD “You’re becoming like us” Ohhhh goooddd yep. yep. wow. Be better. Do better. The theme of this book, and I love it. I LOVE MOASH AAHHH

punk!Dalinar not being allowed to fight is wild.

OOOHH THEY DIDN’T TELL HIM HE’S BEEN HURTING PEOPLE?? WHY!!!!?? YOU GOTTA TELL HIM HE’S DESTROYING PEOPLE’S LIVES BY BEING A BLACKOUT DRUNK AND FIGHTING PEOPLE

THAT’S NOT A GOOD THING AND HE SHOULD KNOW THAT

his name means “born unto light” oh my god that’s delightful oh my god

ohno. you should not send Dalinar back to war, u should keep him at home and maybe find him a therapist to talk to him about the Thrill...

FLYING KHOLINS AHOY!!

“something profoundly disconcerting about being out on the ocean” disconcerting? You’ve misspelled exciting.

They are holding hands while flying that’s adorable

I love that it’s “Elhokar’s team” when we all know Kaladin will end up in charge, much to Adolin’s chagrin...

No comment on what Dalinar’s hair looks like all windswept, obviously that means he’s been windswept into full greaser-style pompadour.

“shellheads” really? wtf. you didn’t call them that before. it’s only after they gain sentience that you give them derogatory nicknames?

High King Dalinar founding his own kingdom is wild to think about...

All of Navani’s scribes and engineers are so excitable. I love it.

Dalinar sneaking about without guards is nervewracking. Pls be safe, buddy.

“what else were important lighteyes going to do with unmotivated children?” Uuh...motivate them? Don’t just throw them aside to the church and expect them to drain resources by doing nothing for the rest of their lives? Find some way for them to be productive members of society? Why is this such a hard concept?

Fucking lighteyes

“He was RURAL Alethi he CAN’T be a HERALD” fuck off, Kadash. Kaladin is from a backwater and he’s a Radiant. And Taln wasn’t a king. We know this.

“No spiritual basis for rule” seems like a good thing to me...separation fo church and state and all that...

Something I’m not surprised that Vorinism sucks ass at caring for the mentally ill...

Yeah, ok, but who cut Taln’s wall from the outside? one of the other Heralds? Someone who still has their honorblade? Or some...Diagram/Ghostblood/SonofHonor mofo who realized before we did that Taln is a Herald? I’M CONCERNED FOR MY ANCIENT BROKEN SON

“Lately, he didn’t much like himself.” Noooooo, Moaaaashhh!! I still like you! A lot!!!

I am absolutely delighted that the Fused point their toes when they are flying. My synchronized swimming ass is just...DELIGHTED

“You don’t farm an apocalypse.” heheheh

The tavern is called the Fallen Tower? really? Dalinar’s army fell at the Tower... and Bridge Four saved them. really.

omg noooo noooooooooo no

nooo

nooooooooo

that’s

a lumberyard. and

ladderruns. that’s the same damn thing oh god

no, I don’t want this.

Let Moash Live 2k17

There’s a weird trend of swapping PoVs in the middle of a chapter. I’m not used to it.

“They acted like they owned her already.” I mean...they kinda do, Shallan. You kinda fucked up with them.

“without her having to remain at the meeting” hon, you are needed at the meetings for reasons other than your mapmaking skills??

“I am my own woman” teeeechnically, you’re...what, Taravangian’s subject now? Right, he’s in charge of Vedenar.

Evi deserves better than punk!Dalinar. Him yelling at her because she invaded his manly man-space is gross and he should stop

Navani just chilling with Evi and Ialai is wild. I legit can’t imagine them all getting along.

Also, I love that Renarin’s name is just a name. I love the convoluted meaning of nothing. it’s great.

Evi is a Good and she! deserves! better!

oh god babies

tiny, tiny babies

Evil flying chulls!! Tiny Adolin is too cute oh god

Just writing down that page 519 is the glyph alphabet. That’s important, you know. :)

NanKhet’s list of assassination attempts and then his like... banquet of executions. is some Greek mythology shit up in here. That’s #yikes

Pastry chef scholar man! I love it! I love that there aRE people in Vorin lands who don’t adhere to Vorinism’s gender roles, people who think gender roles are for squares.

Hello Darkness My Old Friend has waaay too many names. Nakku, Nalan, Nale. This is why I just still call him Hello Darkness.

“Did you misplace her?” One does not simply misplace Lift.

They keep talking about how Thaylen City was super wrecked by the Everstorm and that’s fair, but like...has anyone heard from Shin? Talk about being unprotected for a wrong-way highstorm...

Jasnah reflexively sucking in Stormlight the second Amaram appears in the doorway is Big Mood.

“Other than the fact that you are a detestable buffoon who acheives only the lowest level of mediocrity, as it is the best your limited mind can imagine? I can’t possibly think of a reason.” GOD FUCKING BLESS.

“Give me an excuse. I dare you.” BIGGEST MOOD EVER OH MY GOD

yeah, you run away. fucker.

“The Windrunner” “the flying bridgeman” “brightlord broodingeyes” HE HAS A NAME, LADIES. He has a name.

I’m super tired of everyone--especially Jasnah--underestimating and disregarding Renarin.

And then he goes and does COOL SHIT LIKE FIND THE RESONATING LIBRARY!!!!??

Also, Jasnah can infuse gems with light? wacky fun.

oohh LIghtweaving isn’t just light it’s “and various waveforms” Renarin’s LIghtweaving is super different from Shallan’s isn’t it!!? I can’t want to see MOAR SURGES

Nooooo, Moash.... you gotta do the Kaladin thing! You can’t let go! Look at you, you are already helping the people he helped. You can’t stop yourself any more than he could. You’re not here to let go. You’re here to remember how to care.

Moash bby, I know you are prone to stupid decisions, but please...please don’t do anything stupid...

.........like that.

okay, creepy flying in charge lady. is creepy.

Okay, teaching the parshmen how to spear is good? sort of? from a certain point of view.

Ooooh Rlain pov!!! That’s new and interesting.

you know why is he here? How did he not get eaten by the first Everstorm?

HECK YE ALL FIVE LADY SCOUT WINDRUNNER SQUIRES HEEECKKK YYESSSSS

THEMS MY GIRLS

“He loved them because they did try.” Aaaahhhhh

“That’s like...extra manly.” I’m not sure that’s how being gay works, but I’ma roll with it. :D

“I guess it’s just a thing men say. Can you tell me how it feels?” “I can try.” KALADIN IS A GOOD WHO IS TRYING VERY HARD AND RLAIN IS ALSO A GOOD WHO IS TRYING VERY HARD AND I’M EMOTIONAL

I am so glad they are Trying Together.

That is an interesting question...did the magic stagnate them? stop people from being interested in finding non-magic ways of doing things? not just steel, but like...idk, indoor plumbing and better ways of farming, or anything that a Soulcaster can do. Why would you need better ways when you have the magic way?

It’s a very Harry Potter Wizard Wolrd mentality, tbh.

Oh shit, the Recreance was 2k years AFTER the Heralds bugged out and broke the Oathpact? That’s a long time for them to keep going without their leaders? and then to suddenly stop after all that time? whyyyy

what did they learn? about their spren? Jasnah knows.

Oh no!!!

nooo

he can hear the spren dying!!!???? OH NOOO

OH SNAP

WHAT

WHAT

NO

UM??? WHAT

THE FUCK?

HOW DID HE HACK DALINAR’S VISION?? WHERE DID HE COME FROM? HOW DID HE GET HERE? HOW DANGEROUS IS HE IN THIS FORM? HOW IS HE HERE?

WHAT

IS

HAPPENING

god, how many times did Dalinar rely on the Thrill? that’s got to leave some kind of bond, some connection. Something Odium can exploit.

God, it’s still really weird to think of Odium--the bad guy--as light, gold, white. it’s refreshing, but also wtf

Ah, fuck off, you’re not a god. The Shardholders are not gods. They’re just dudes with extra powerful magic. Ask Sazed.

God, okay, the STormfather is so. scared. wtf.

Oooohh, he hasn’t gotten Cultivation yet. She’s hidden and he’s bound--not very well if he’s here now, but still.

Can she help us?

Why does he...have to kill people? Is it because he’s the avatar of hatred of something else?

...interesting. Passion.

..........interesting that the Thaylens worship the Passions.

Also, I resent that if he’s All Sorts of Emotion/Passion, there’s the implication that all emotion eventually leads to violence, and I RESENT THAT SO HARD

oh snap, Cultivation is the Nightwatcher? What? I did not expect that...

goes further to the None of the Three Shards Are Good or Bad

though Odium might be lying...

what the shit

was that the Odium hell planet?

Did....did Lift just... scare him away?

I’m increaingly thinking shes got a bit of Cultivation in her. She’s not just a kiddo, and not just a Radiant, there’s something funky going on with her, and I think it’s something powerful enough to scare Odium.. hm...

EEEEYYYYY END PART TWO!!!!!

eww gross, Taravangian AND Venli? Bad interludes are bad. Where’s Szeth? I miss him.

[hogwartselementumrp]

Congratulations Areej! You have been accepted to play Augustus Wood, with Matthew Daddario as the faceclaim! Now, me and Admin Beth absolutely adored your application. Beth was personally drawn to your para sample, thinking it showed you had an excellent grasp of the character. I personally loved how you described Marzia... Just kidding, seriously. Every single part of this application was very well written, and I am very glad Raluca & Lynn forced recommended it! I really hope we get an app for Oliver soon because I believe you will make their interactions super angsty!!!

Welcome the the RP! I hope you enjoy your time with us!

OOC Information

NAME/ALIAS: Hey! I’m Areej PREFERRED PRONOUN: she/her AGE: 17 TIMEZONE: GMT ACTIVITY LEVEL: On a scale of 1 to 10, maybe like a 7?? I have exams in June that I should be studying for but also I am not. That means I’ll try to be on at least once every day/every couple of days at the minimum.

HOW DID YOU FIND THE RP (NEW MEMBERS): Lynn & Raluca made me recommended it :))))

Character Information

NAME OF THE CHARACTER: Augustus Wood DESCRIBE THE CHARACTER IN YOUR OWN WORDS:

In a sentence? Your average playboy Quidditch player.

Wand ━ chestnut and dragon heartstring

( chestnut ) “The wand of chestnut is attracted to witches and wizards who are natural fliers. However, when paired with dragon heartstring, it may find its best match among those who are overfond of luxury and material things, and less scrupulous than they should be about how they are obtained.”

(dragon heartstring ) “As a rule, dragon heartstrings produce wands with the most power, and which are capable of the most flamboyant spells. Dragon wands tend to learn more quickly than other types. While they can change allegiance if won from their original master, they always bond strongly with the current owner.The dragon wand tends to be easiest to turn to the Dark Arts, though it will not incline that way of its own accord. It is also the most prone of the three cores to accidents, being somewhat temperamental.”

Birthday ━ july 25th

( leo ) “can be among the most arrogant, self-absorbed signs of the zodiac, but also the most tender and generous. as the lion king of the cosmos, you are a force to be reckoned with — and you’d have it no other way. full of ego and the insecurity that inevitably accompanies it, you demand respect. the successful Leo, however, learns how to command it. you thrive on the esteem of others, but privately your self-esteem wavers. a natural performer, you can be a powerhouse of creative talent, charisma and instinct. you crave the spotlight and take great pains to grace it.”

( aries moon ) idk i don’t even really know what a moon sign is tbh but from what i gather, it means you’re independent, enjoy confrontation, have lots of crushes or short-lived, physical, passionate relationships but move on very quickly, and are straightforward rather than manipulative.

AND HEY LOOK i found this neat pdf that outlines it some more

So that basically covers personality, right? As for plots, I think right now he’s in a weird space of being a little unsure of himself, which he definitely isn’t used to. Typically, he gets what he wants. No questions asked. Nothing ever gets taken away from him – only handed, usually on a silver platter, so the fact that the Quidditch teams have retracted their offers has left him more irritable than usual. And the rumour that he takes performance enhancing drugs (as if he needs them). As much as he pretends he isn’t bothered and that he’ll get his job back in no time, he’s actually kinda scared, knowing that if the Quidditch thing doesn’t work out, he hasn’t worked hard enough at magic to excel in it like he wants from life.

ANY CHANGES YOU WISH TO MAKE?: FC change to Matthew Daddario pls & thanks  TITLES: ex-Quidditch captain of Slytherin, resident fuckboy RELATIONSHIPS:

Marzia Levi ━ ex girlfriend. After about 2 months of dating the hottest, most charming girl he could find, Augustus realised that she was crazy.

Scorpius Malfoy  ━ old friendship. At school, the two were healthy rivals, competing to make each other better on the field and spending time hanging out off it. That all ended after Scorp’s sickness. Out of loyalty to his friend, Augustus tried at the beginning to stay close, but Scorpius’ bitterness just pissed him off and he left him. 

Roxanne Weasley ━ pseudo-little-sister. She keeps his feet on the ground, as much as she can, anyway. He protects her.

FAMILY RELATIONSHIPS:

Parents ━ Being the oldest Wood boy, Augustus knew that practically the whole world (but especially his parents) had expectations of him to play Quidditch professionally. It seemed to be all his mum and dad would talk to him about growing up. So, as a cause of this, his relationship with them is less of a typical parent-and-son bond and more of a mentor and their trainee. He doesn’t mind much though. As long as he was playing Quidditch well, they never really bothered him getting into too much trouble at school since they weren’t around enough.

Oliver Wood ━ Ever since Oliver got in the way of Augustus and his dreams, he can’t help but be a little irritated at his younger brother. He tries not to blame him. Tells himself, assures Oliver, that this is only a minor drawback, that he’ll get his position back. But the truth is, Augustus isn’t so sure. Oliver’s naivety may have ruined his chances to become a professional Quidditch player for good, and that has caused a strain on their relationship.

Minerva Wood ━ Minerva’s probably the person he’s closest to in the world. With their parents gone a lot of the time when they were kids, he used to spend most of his time around his sister, so they told each other everything. Now they’re living together, they’re even closer. The only thing is his boyfriend who he thinks she can do better than.

PARA SAMPLE:

“What do you mean, performance enhancing drugs?”

There was no way this irrelevant man, clad in a pretentious suit, tie and matching robes (it was July, for fuck’s sake – how was he not boiling?) was serious. He, Augustus Wood, on drugs? Well, Gus thought, running a hand through his recently windswept hair, that part was admittedly believable. But ones to make him better at Quidditch? Ridiculous. It’s not like he needed any help.

“Look, I don’t fuckin’ care,” he said, cutting across the old man’s pathetic reply. “I just need this bullshit out of the papers before anyone sees it.” Saying that aloud made him realise something: that there was a very real chance of his parents reading that morning’s Prophet, stumbling across the blaring front-page headline about their son on steroids. 

If there was anything the Woods had always discouraged from their children, it was scandals. Whether they be (what Augustus had become notorious for) dating scandals, or something more like this, the celebrities grew exasperated when their kids’ names were in the papers, mostly because there was usually some element of truth in them. Not this time, though. Unfortunately, Augustus wasn’t sure they’d believe him if he told them that.  “Most rumours are fine. I can deal with rumours. But this? I get it – I fly so well that people think I must be on something, right? That there’s no way this talent can be natural? It kinda makes sense they’d assume I’m on steroids or whatever, but I swear I’m not. There, that’s the truth. Case closed. Now get this out of the fucking press.”

“It’s not that easy, sir. It’s already been printed, and –” his publicist began to reply, but Augustus already grew tired of his voice.

“Unprint it, then.”

What was possibly worse than his parents finding out? The scouts from Quidditch teams, the ones who’d been practically obsessed with him, asking to recruit him at the earliest opportunity, reading the article. It’d destroy their image of them. If his own mother and father wouldn’t believe that this was only a rumour, there was no chance that these guys would. His career would be over.

Augustus sighed. Oliver had a lot of explaining to do.

[onwardintolight]

M, Q, and W !

Hey friend (Gracie? should I call you Gracie for short or is that the name of your cat? help)! Thanks for asking

M: Got any premises on the back burner that you’d care to share?

I’d like to do a fic about Leia arriving on Tatooine to rescue Han and feeling a connection there she doesn’t understand. I’d also like to delve deeper into some of the comics, and maybe do a Leia POV fic during Rebel Jail or a oneshot examining the effect those events had on her afterwards. I might sometime try my own take on Han and Leia post-Battle of Endor. Or my own version of Ord Mantell. I’m also interested in doing a few TFA/new canon fix-its because… yeah.

Q: Do you have any discarded scenes/storylines/projects?

Yes, the one I wrote about here that I started writing in my early teens, about Shmi Skywalker. Just for funsies, I’m going to share the “trailer” I posted on my old haunt — TheForce.Net fanfiction boards (gah it’s been forever) — since it describes it pretty well. I can’t remember if I wrote the trailer or if my friend SiriGallia did (I remember she was good at writing trailers and she did it for at least one of my fics but I feel like I might have written this one?) Anyway sorry in advance for the “whitish blonde hair and violet eyes” and “lavender twi-leks” — again, I was like 14 or 15 pls don’t hurt me

Also trigger warning for referenced threat of either self-harm or attempted suicide, because dark fics are apparently what I do

Fic: Coming Soon

Black fades into scene from TPM: Shmi smiling and hugging Anakin. (soft, strange, music as per Queen Amidala’s Tone Poem is playing)

Shmi’s Voice: There was a time when I was not like this.

Fades slowly into scene of a little girl (Shmi), about five or six years old, sitting in the corner of what looks to be a ship’s hold (there are boxes and trunks stacked nearby). She is hugging her knees and has a frightened look on her face.

SV: I was young…

Fades into scene of a funeral pyre burning. Cuts to Shmi (now about age sixteen) watching it, a despairing, hopeless look on her face, which is glowing in the light of the fire. Suddenly somebody (you can only see his hand) shoves her and she falls to the ground (you can now see that she is in chains).

SV: I was scared…

Fades into scene of Shmi (now thirty), a small woman with whitish-blonde hair and violet eyes (Tarynn), and two lavender Twi'lek women (Nanie and Tokla) sneaking through the dark halls of a fortress of some kind. They are obviously running from someone or something. You can hear the sound of footsteps in the hall behind them. Music steadily grows louder.

SV: And I was desperate for freedom.

(Music suddenly is loud and tense, resembling LotR) (Scenes Flash)

A whip lashing down with a crack on Shmi’s back

A blaster flying to Shmi’s hand

Shmi saying: We have to do something!

Another lashing coming down, Shmi crying out in pain

Shmi and a young man with dark hair kissing passionately

Shmi standing in front of Tarynn, Nanie, and Tokla. Shmi saying: Do you have any idea what this will cost us if we fail?

The whip coming down again on Shmi’s now bloody back

Shmi sitting in a small room (which appears to be her ‘house’), crying. Suddenly you see the flash of something shiny in her hand next to her chest, it appears to be a small dagger. Cuts to a figure (Tarynn) rushing in the door. Tarynn: Shmi, no!!!

(end scene flash)

Screen goes dark, and music stops abruptly. The only sound is a steady heartbeat.

Black fades into scene of Shmi standing very still on some windswept Tatooine street. Tarynn is standing right beside her, obviously trying to figure out what’s wrong. Shmi: I feel so strange…

(sound of heartbeat quavers, then goes strong again; except this time you can just hear a tiny echo)

Fades into black.

SV (in almost a whisper): Don’t look back.

(Words flash on dark screen:)

Slave

Coming Soon to a Board Near You

Again I never got past the first 5000 words, and it had various iterations of names (I don’t even remember the “Slave” one). I might come back to it myself someday but if someone wants to take this idea and run with it, please be my guest.

W: Do you like more general prompts, or more specific ones?

Hmm, I actually haven’t done any prompts yet so I don’t really know! If I had to hazard a guess, I’d say general would probably be my preference as that would give my imagination more room to play.