#this blog is still very much capri haha

[koishua]

⟡ 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐓 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝟐𝟏𝐒𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇 ─── park jay

synopsis ─── at seven years old, heather brown finds a friend in jay jeongseong park. at ten years old, she realizes that she found a lifelong partner in him. at eighteen years old, she wishes that she had told him she loved him for the first and last time (she does not—could not, of anything— and it's all because she can't live a life without daniel yeonjun choi).

starring ─── daniel yeonjun choi. heather nabeom brown, a female original character. jay jeongseong park. additionally, beomgyu choi, sunghoon park and heeseung lee.

genre ─── angst, childhood best friends to almost lovers, drama, hurt/comfort.

length ─── 10,019k words (part one)

warnings ─── mentions of hospitals, illnesses and death, some minor scenes depicting familial issues.

author's note ─── (heads up not edited whatsoever we die like newt.) damn. this has been brewing in my docs for exactly two years and i have rewritten it countless times and waz unsatisfied each time and couldn't finish it. im sort of very tired of it just sitting there, so here i am, posting this in a few installments so maybe i can get the motivation to finish depending on your reactions haha. make note that although the romance is still there, it's not as prevalent as the pure bond between the three protagonists. i have so many feelings bottled up in my wee lil heart for this fic because heather, jay and daniel are my babies and i love their bonds so much and i have so so much planned so yeah i hope y'all enjoyed what i have so far and we'll see. maybe you can read the second part next spring lolol. also heather and her thought processes are totally me lol

taglist no. one ─── @junityy @jeonqquk @leavethemonsteralive @iuwon @envirae @i-luvsang @rae-blogging @jitaros @jdyunvrs @kdyism @yourlocalhotgf @mark-lees-world @99outros @thekinkpopstandsforkrackheads @tyongishs @yutaalove @yangianwon @icywhatim @sunshine-skz @sooblvr @whoe-dis @injanggarden @90sni-ki @wccycc @sunfics @woo-minhee02 @yyxy27 @bigsobforskz @soobin-chois @jaysbestie @ni-kiii @jungwonerz @sunoosbestie @95sjcc @ja4hyvn @ant-ton-ya @stealanity @pshflrts @norifilms @shekllls @eternallyhyucks @yjwfav @luvningkai @youreverydayzebra @mosviqu @w3bqrl @candysofthours @moontines @rielleluvs @lebrookestore

reblogs and feedback are super appreciated y'all !!

“Hello! My name is Jeongseong Park, but you can call me Jay!” she blinked twice, clutching the hems of the older woman’s skirt. The short-statured younger boy leaned to its side, his head tilting curiously. “Is she shy?”

She chuckled, affectionately running her fingers through her daughter’s soft locks of light hair— well, lighter than his, at least. “She really isn’t most of the time, dear. Maybe she just doesn’t feel well right now.”

She held the chubby hands that tighten around the fabric on her waist, crouching down to the little girl’s height. Her frown seemed evident by the way her brows narrow, big and bright eyes hesitant on meeting her mother. “Come on, Heather. Don’t you think that it’s a little rude to not greet the young man?”

“I don’t want to.” She had a higher voice than Jay was used to, but that was only because he had been hanging around older people all the time, excluding the other boys his teacher had introduced him to in his new class last month. He took slight offense to that statement, however cool his outer kiddy demeanor covered it.

Without wasting a single moment, her mother beats him for a response. “You have to make friends, darling. Don’t you think he seems nice?” 

The unintentional innocence that radiates off her peer takes Heather off guard. He did seem nice enough with his doe-like eyes focused on the tropical mix capri sun, struggling to poke through the plastic with his thin, orange straw. He seemed like he liked to feed pigeons with his bread even if he himself was hungry.

She liked that— he didn’t look like those older kids who always drew on the walls behind school. Heather hated those third graders with a passion, but Jay seemed nice enough. He didn’t wear those black ripped jeans and shirts and he didn’t sport their messy hair. All of those kids did and they were mean towards even the teachers.

She wondered if their clothes and style were the problem, but maybe that would be a little shallow of her. Daniel always told her not to judge anyone by their face, body or clothes, so she would always trust his judgement and come to the conclusion that it wasn’t the clothes that made them seem rude.

Daniel was always right, he was probably the only person that told her that, though— he was the nicest person Heather knew of in her six years of life. He told her that she needed to be nice and accepting of everyone. He was older than her, almost ten years old. That was, in her mind, ancient enough to be considered as good as an adult like her mother and father.

She took in a deep breath, reluctantly letting the silk between her fingers go and came out into the open. “Fine,” she mutters underneath her breath. Daniel would be very proud of her, “My name’s Heather. I will be seven years old on the twenty-first of March. I hope we can be good friends.”

The young boy takes a look at her extended hand, thinking about how odd of an introduction this whole thing was. But he accepts the very formal shake of hand anyways, his smile lighting up the room within seconds. “I’ll be seven after you will, then! My birthday is in April.”

Nodding, she leaned back to inspect his attire. He had weird hair, she noticed. “You have weird hair.” Her mother gasped, “Little lady, that is not how you speak to people.” Though her mother reprimanded her, to which she took no caution to, she was a tad bit taken aback by the quiet snort that had escaped the odd boy’s lips just now.

“It’s okay, I hate it, too.” He did? “My dad thinks that all boys have to have this hair at least once in their life, so he made our hairdresser cut it this way. I like those hairs that they show on television, though! The ones where they cut it short until here and leave it long on top.”

Did he mean an undercut, Mrs. Brown scratched her head with wonder. She shook her head, accepting defeat and patted Heather’s shoulders. “I have to attend to my work, Heather, so why don’t you go off with Jay here and play with him a little bit until John’s father comes to pick you up for your music class later this afternoon?”

She didn't like John, nor did she like his father.

“But, I told you that I don’t like classical music. Do I still have to go?” She tugs at the hem of her mother’s crisp white blouse, an unhappy look etched onto her childish features. She supposed she didn’t look all that intimidating, but she liked to believe that she was either way, however intimidating her puffy cheeks and pigtails could be.

“Heather Brown, you will attend these classes for as long as we tell you to. You must grow up to be as refined as possible, understood? Don’t you think that it would be nice to be able to play the violin well? Look, even Jay here takes piano lessons! And I heard from his mother that he is an excellent student.” The six year-old gave the poor fellow a side glance, backtracking on her older thoughts for a moment.

Scratch that, maybe she did dislike him just a little bit now. 

Resigning to her fate, she pulled away, “Okay, I’ll do it for you.” With a satisfied nod, the older woman took her silent leave and Heather watched as the tall doors click closed, leaving her alone with her new acquaintance in a large hall surrounded by glass windows, the bright twelve p.m. sun peeking through the thin grey sun blockers.

“My mom tells me that it’s always good for you to wear sunscreen,” Jay took notice of the way she seemed stuck on the way the beams of light escaped through the cracks. He pulls his miniature version of a duffel bag out of the large cupboard from the back of the office, navigating his way through the leather seats surrounding the oval oak table to accommodate for large meetings.

“Do you want some? I was told that you have to apply it every two hours.” You stare at the uncapped orange bottle, a tiny bit— pea sized, if she had to give it a relatively accurate description of the amount— of the creamy substance already on the back of his palm. 

Why was their first conversation alone about the many effects of under-protection from the harmful rays of the sun, Heather never knew. Though he might have been a little odd, she supposed he wasn’t that bad of a kid. As far as she could see, he was just her mother’s husband’s friend’s son who had a knack for knowing the most random of knowledge that no six year old usually could know of— he also liked dancing, but she wasn’t about to tell him that she liked that small bit of fact.

Heather made her first friend the same age as her at seven years old. She didn’t like his haircut— and neither did he— but he was nice enough to let her draw stars on his cheeks with face paint on the first day he met her.

⟡

For her entire life, all Heather knew of were three things: she hated bullies, she hated music, and she hated the way Jay was having a growth spurt when she was stuck in the same height as before. She was ten years old now— mind you, she was older than him, however much a gap of a single month was worth— and she was now shorter than Jay Park.

“Are you not bored of always staying in this hole?” Heather whispered into his ear, mindful of her volume with all of the overbearing adults in the office. Although, to be fair, this ‘hole’ that she had been talking about was a 25 stories high corporal building made of expensive glass windows and tall ceilings adorned with chandeliers everywhere she looked if she craned her neck just a little— it was the furthest thing from being a mere hole that they had been stuck inside together for the past three years.

Jay nodded, “I asked my dad if we could just stay back at home, but he said no. He thinks that we will be in danger as soon as we are out of their direct sight, even if the staff are there to clean the house.” Being the only children of two business giants did come with its disadvantages, Heather could only cry in silence.

“Surely, they won’t notice if we go out to buy ice cream, right?” she nudged the pondering boy, urging him to respond. The mischief swimming inside those familiar brown eyes was an exciting thing to witness. 

He glanced at the busy adults, all gathered to sit around a table for a long discussion. “We can go to the store next block and then run back here, how about that?” Heather muttered in a low tone, almost too quiet for him to pick it up, but he did.

“Fine, but if they notice and get angry, you’re the one who is responsible, okay?” Jay took her little block of rosin from the intricately made coffee table, storing the object away in her violin case, carefully clasping the two sides shut together to pick it up— when he had grown into the habit of carrying the large black container for her, he didn’t know for sure, but she always left the instrument behind, so it was up to him to tuck the bow and violin away securely, lest Mrs. Brown reprimanded her daughter for protesting against her music lesson again.

Slinking out of the adults’ way was easy of a task, you only had to be quiet and tuck yourself away behind the walls and just keep on moving before someone actually decided to check the odd moving shadows behind the long blinds. What was difficult, however, was pulling off a maneuver like escaping through the front entrance where security guards were always planted.

“Are you ready?” Heather wrapped her arms around his shoulders, taking notice of how much wider they seemed to have gotten in the two years she had known him. She had stashed her case away in one of the empty offices on the fourth floor where all of the marketing workers were stationed.

The quiet stalking they had done from the twentieth floor all the way down to the first— all the while still going unnoticed by the hundreds of personnel frantically buzzing through the hallways like bees to their nests— had proven to be the most exhilarating part of this sneaking out ordeal.

She peeked a head through the small gap between the door and its frame, allowing Jay to slide a small head through the same gap as well— they looked like characters from cartoons, comically peering at something they shouldn't with heads stacked above each others’— only to speedily hide back inside the small closet filled with cleaning supplies after seeing her father’s secretary dashing their way with a phone held next to her ear.

Once they heard the click of her low heels fade away into silence, Heather turned the handle of the door to slide it open, gesturing at Jay to follow behind. “Look, Freddy is going away to get a drink now. Let’s make a run for it, quick.” Freddy, the tall and grand security personnel who looked similar to the Five Nights at Freddy’s animatronic bear that had given both of you a good amount of nightmares after deciding to play the game together during one of your many stays here in the company building.

Jay took a hold of her hand, fingers wrapped around her palm with a tight squeeze and they sprinted off towards the automatic sliding doors and bursting into the sunlight. A few onlookers took a brief glance at the two children panting as they rounded the corner of the building, hiding away in the comfort of the crowded sidewalks, the tall structure of the enterprise looming over their small bodies that sped through the roads of Washington D.C.

“That was wicked!” The taller one of the two eased them both into a jog, not noticing the fact that their hands were still intertwined, tightly wrapped around each other— neither did Heather, for that matter, too caught up in the adrenaline rushing through her veins.

The cars honking at the ones in front of them did not bother the children at all, not when they were tasting the first bite of freedom they had ever gained. It was a hot summer day and middle school was about to start in a few weeks— dreadful, they knew.

The sad, sob-worthy trek back towards the building was to be expected not even ten minutes after their grand escapade. They had forgotten to bring money to buy their ice creams.

But everything was okay, though. They might not have gotten their cold treats, but their way back inside had gone by as silently as their adventure outside had been. No one had noticed a single thing, save for the one staff member monitoring the security cameras.

Heather had just finished fourth grade when she broke the rules with her best friend for the first time— it felt good. Jay was taller than her now, sure, but she still could put him in a chokehold if she wanted to and that was all that really mattered.

⟡

“Daniel?” The older boy hummed, looking up from his extremely important job that was meticulously peeling bananas to make them smoothies. She settled herself on the tall leather bar stools to watch as the fifteen year old threw in a handful of frozen strawberries from the large freezer inside the sturdy blender with a splash of milk to add to the silky smooth texture of the cold drink.

“You’re not leaving, are you?” The solemn look on her face forced him to turn the machine off for a moment. He examined the way the edges of her eyes seemed to redden by the second, glazing over to signify the oncoming wave of salty tears. 

Yeonjun sighed, making his way to her side to cradle her in his arms, leaning her head against his chest to run his hands through her hair. He didn’t say anything even if he heard the muted sniffles or the thick in her voice.

"You know what 영원한 means?" She shook her head, "Well, flower, it means eternally— forever. I promise you— cross my heart and hope to die— that I will be with you until the end of time, okay?" 

Her mother was leaving, but at least Daniel was staying. She wouldn't know what to do if he left, too.

Daniel was funny. He was always the one that had pretended to be an ox to chase her around the empty complex when her father was glued to his chair in his office at the top floor and her mother was occupied by her endless meetings that she never understood what the need was for.

She knew him ever since she could think back in her memories, maybe he was secretly her brother. That would make a lot of sense, wouldn't it? Or better yet, maybe he was her dad— or her mom. He felt like one anyways, he was always the one that took care of her.

Eleven year old Heather knew that he couldn't be her parent, he was extremely young to be so, so maybe he was either her long lost brother— she didn't understand why her parents never told her, though. That is, if he was actually her older sibling hidden away— or an angel disguised as a fifteen year old middle schooler who liked to teach her to be nice to other kids.

Daniel was nice, he got that from his mother who was working as her own family's cook for the past ten years. Mrs. Choi was always smiling and she never scolded her whenever she snuck into the kitchen to steal all of the freshly baked cookies one by one. 

In all honesty, ten year old Heather really did think that she was the stealthiest living being while crawling her way towards the kitchen island. The woman had always managed to find her slipping away through the sliding doors with a half munched cookie in her hand, melted chocolate smeared all over her lips.

Why did she never get angry? She always gave her a small plate of them after wiping away at her messy face, she always had the kindest eyes as well. Why?

She supposed that was why Daniel was so patient. He was the nicest person Heather knew and she would forever stand by the fact that Daniel Choi would be the most perfect person in all of mankind.

He was nice.

Her mother was leaving, leaving her to her father— was he even her real father? Heather didn't think that she had a single ounce of similarity to him in herself. He had the yellowest hair she had ever seen. Even the pale kid from her old fourth grade didn't have hair as saturated as his.

Heather had smooth brown hair, she was a brunette, and yet he had the curliest of blond hair ever. Her mom, on the other hand, had the silkiest of rich black hair. How did biology work again? What if she wasn't related to any one of them? She had eyes that looked like her mother's milky coffee, very light brown— Mrs. Choi always said that her mother never knew what actual coffee tasted like, always mixing it with soy milk to the point where it was more of a coffee flavoured milk.

Her dad had blue eyes, they were pretty— not to say that her mother's dark eyes were not, but eleven year old Heather was just saying. What if she was adopted? She really needed to pay attention to her biology classes. The short quiz about how genes work was closing up on both Jay and her, but her best friend didn't have anything to worry about anyway.

He had always been smarter than her, but that was fine. She could always be the brawn of the duo— or the cutest one that got all of the attention of the adults to distract them while he slid out of the room to buy a pack of Mentos candy from the nearest vending machine— it was always ten stories below his father's office, but that was fine. Jay was fast— so that they could try to make a bottle of Coke explode out in the garden.

Her thoughts were muddled up yet again, mind running at incredible speeds, remaining unexhausted from hopping on one train to the other. Where was she again? 

Ah, yes, Heather wiped her tears away with the back of her sleeves, noting the way Daniel looked much older than before as he looked down at her with a concerned frown.

She wanted a cat.

“Danny?” 

“Yes, flower?”

“Do you think mother is leaving because she doesn’t like dad anymore?”

“I don’t know, flower. Maybe.”

“Will you ever decide to leave if you don’t like me anymore?”

“Never. I will die before that could ever happen.”

“Okay, Danny. I believe you.”

“Good. Now, let’s drink our smoothies before they get warm.”

⟡

“Blue?” Heather whispers, the vast ceilings of her dark room didn’t scare her like it used to— now that she had him, she didn’t think she would ever be afraid of the empty and lifeless room ever again. The baby dolls her mother had bought for her when she was five years old were still lined up on her window sills all across her walls. The moon wasn’t coming out of its hiding place tonight— it was a rarity these past few months, shrouding her room in the darkest of shadows. 

She wasn’t afraid of the dark, though. She had Jay, he would hold her hand and tell her funny stories that had happened during the day and he would lead her to sit on the velvet stool with him to play a little song for her on the grand piano that her father had made the staff set up. 

Thirteen year old Heather still despised classical music— she wondered why she hadn’t dropped out of her tutoring sessions yet with her mother not around anymore. Perhaps it was a sense of duty towards the older woman, the same way she kept the hideous dolls around. She still lingered around— the ghost of her had never left, she sort of hated it.

She hated a lot of things, Heather had long before accepted the fact that she was just a petty person in general, she hoped that Jay did as well. She abhorred the smell of watermelons, same as the taste of tomatoes and the sound of her violin when she played another piece composed by Sibelius or Paganini— why couldn’t she play whatever she wanted? Where was her freedom?

Strangely enough, though, perched on the cushions of the mahogany stool next to Jay, she didn’t hate the way his fingers softly stroked the keys to lull her to sleep with Berceuse in D flat major, Op. 57— or as they liked to call it, Bercy. For Heather, this was Jay in his core.

Park Jay had a beautiful heart— the sweet tone of the melody sounded different when he was the one playing— she loved listening to him. For an older Heather, one that was not a six year old brat anymore, music sounded nice when it was Jay the one playing for her. She liked music only when it was Jay playing for her.

“Yes, Heather?” There he was, calling her by her name again. Her mother always used to call her little lady, her father only used her korean name, 나봄 Nabeom— the only one to do so, oddly enough. Her teachers didn’t call her by her name either, were they scared of it? What reason would they have to call her dear? 

She didn’t have friends, though— she didn’t need them anyway, they were all terrible little liars— Jay was all she needed, all she ever wanted. Jay liked to call her by her name, just like Daniel often did, save for the few endearing terms he used— mostly about flowers, given her name, Heather, but she liked them all. Anything Daniel said to her, she liked them all.

“Heather? Did you want to tell me something?” He played with the thin bracelet wrapped delicately around her wrist, the one he had made for her when he was twelve— admittedly, not that long ago, but enough to wonder about why she hadn’t taken it off yet. The warmth of her hands was like a reminder of her existence to him.

Do angels exist? He didn’t know the answer to this question, not even after the countless visits to the enormous church, but maybe, it was lying right next to him all this time. Maybe angels did exist in the form of a lonely thirteen year old girl who had hugged him tightly after he had won first place in yet another competition— it was memorable for a reason, he had never been hugged for any of his achievements before, big or small.

A clap of thunder stripped her of the bravado she had guised herself behind, she felt her limbs frozen in place, unable to find a good emotional foothold to hide away from the next set of thunder booming behind her glass windows. 

Jay did not say anything else. Instead, he opted to let his closest friend find solace in the way they linked their arms together, pulling the covers over their heads akin to a comforting cocoon. This was enough for Heather— just her and him together, hiding from the stormy weather underneath her thick white blanket. This was all it took to calm his best friend down, to be there for her.

Just hold her hand.

⟡

Niccolo Paganini, her worst nemesis following the likes of Bach and Sibelius, was the sole reason for her months spent cooped up in her room, going over each one of his rigorous pieces with great care. Oh, how she would have liked to tear those stark white and black sheets with the most disgusted of scowls smeared on her face— right in front of her mother’s scrutiny, might she add.

The years and years of practice— as far back as her mind would allow her to remember— lead up to this one moment of battle between her and the devious fourth caprice in c minor she could barely fly over, never mind the twenty fourth. It was vomit worthy if you asked Heather herself.

Despise was the only word she had for the pieces given to her by her instructor. Why did she not give this up yet? Eleven years— nine of them by her mothers’ wishes, two more she had decided to continue on her own— she had spent cooped up either in a damn skyscraper or a closed off mansion to run through the counts by herself.

Why didn’t she just stop playing? Everyone knew how much she loathed her time playing her instrument. Was it to remember and keep a piece of her mother with her?Maybe, but she remembered that they didn’t even have the best of a parent-child relationship in the first place. Was it really because of her mother?

Jay.

Maybe the only reason she had not quit yet was her very own Jay. He always did play beautifully, coaxing her to join him if she so desired to. And how could she ever say no to him? Park Jay, she never knew how much of a hold he held on her, not even years later.

Indeed, maybe she didn’t quit yet just to keep an even ground with her childhood friend. Soon, she would leave her violin case behind forever.

⟡

Heather could not keep even grounds with her childhood friend anymore.

“Are you okay, miss?” A worker asked her with concern evident in his eyes. She blinked up at him, his form all but a blur going in and out of focus as she desperately tried to come to herself and shake the ringing out of her ears.

A few strands of her hair slipped out of her neat bun tied on top of her head. She tried to push herself back up on her feet, swaying as her knees buckled under her weight once again. The suited man from her father’s office stabilized her by her shoulders, leading her to one of the leather seats pushed against the crisp white wall.

“I’m okay, thank you.” Heather really was okay. It was probably just the fatigue growing on her after the hours of practice she had endured, or the fact that she had forgotten about her breakfast on the counter and lunchbox near her bag. She had to be okay, so she would continue believing that it was nothing, that everything was just fine.

He nodded, unconvinced but not prying any further, “If you say so. Be careful, okay?” 

So she would do just that, but alas, even with great care, fate would continue running at its own pace and it would forever continue to break and build lives. It had done it millions of times before and it would do it again and again.

“I can’t believe you keep tripping over nothing, honestly. Watch your own feet, Heather.” Jay ruffled her hair, effectively destroying her long minutes of hard work at putting her hair together that morning. He always liked to do that, she noticed. Jay liked to systematically mess with her hair and then tuck the strands back behind her ear at least once every single day.

Every day, huh. How many days had it been since they had first met? How old was she even? They had probably spent more years together than without each other being by their side, well over six years she’d say, maybe even eight. Funnily enough, she remembered his long hair as a child as if it was just yesterday.

“Watch your hands, Jay, or else I’ll be the one to keep them in check for you.” she deftly slapped his hands away from cupping her cheeks, puffing out her lips like a fish. He only sniggered at the irritated pout on her lips, “How scary, I’m running for my life.”

“Shut up, I’m older than you.” 

“Only by a few months at best. That’s not much. I’m way bigger than you, how about that?” His noticeably taller frame towered over her, if only by a few inches, but he still liked to take every opportunity to bring the difference up to her just to get her riled up time and time again.

It was somehow oddly cute.

“I will break your kneecaps, how about that?” her raised feet, ready to strike at any moment, made him take a cautious step back. “Only if you can catch me, but that’s hard because your legs are way too short to catch up to me, shorty.”

“That is it, Jay. You’re so dead.” Her roar of indignation did the trick to make him burst into a sprint for his life with an excited howl, heart beating in his throat. The sparkling floors make his brand new shoes squeak with every impact on the surface. “Catch me if you can, Heather!”

And without a single glance at the girl chasing him, he darted off into the hallways with various workers scattered throughout, all letting a noise of surprise out when they saw the boy bulldozing his way between them all, “Jay? Be careful!”

Unhearing of the words from the adults’ mouths for the time being, he dashed left into an open meeting office, countless wheeled armchairs set neatly next to each other around a heavy oval table. Heather ran straight inside, fearsome and glowing with determination to tackle him into the next galaxy, “Don’t think you can escape from me, Jay!”

⟡

“Sweet sixteen, Heather.” Jay brings the small cake closer towards her, urging her to make a wish and blow the sixteen individual candles away. He looked older now— he had shoulders that had grown wider by the day and his baby fat was slowly, but surely, melting away to reveal his strong jawline, his roundish features now prominent in their shape without the softness that came with being a child.

He had gotten rid of that god awful haircut as well, giving himself a brand new and welcome look— his undercut dreams had come true and Heather admitted that it suited him extremely well. He always did have that underlying promise of a handsome future, but now it was clearer than ever. Jay had the prettiest smile.

Much to her dismay, she hadn’t gotten around to beat his height, not when he was half a head taller than she already, or was it more than that? She didn’t know and ten years into their friendship, she didn’t really care anymore. The last time she had asked Daniel to measure their height was two years ago— the lines and dates lining up her door frame would gladly serve as proof of that.

Speaking of Daniel— she looked at the much older and much taller twenty year old across the room filled with just the three of them— he was still there. 

Daniel liked to sing, he loved it and he loved to stand in front of hundreds and thousands of people to just let his voice out and perform to his heart’s content. He was good at it as well, she was not envious of his gift, though— not in that way. She was never jealous of the amount of praises and compliments he would get from people all around the world that had come to watch his concerts.

Big people with big names that wanted to take him away to bigger places than the good old Washington D.C.

Heather was never jealous of the love he had always received, even as a young middle schooler. No, she was never ever green with envy— in hindsight, she would always tell others that she was probably the one person proudest of him next to Mrs. Choi. Would that— could that— ever change?

No, absolutely not. Heather still was a strong believer of the extent of Daniel Yeonjun Choi’s perfection. If anything, she was just downright petrified that one day, he would break his promise of five years that he would never leave her behind in this cold world. That new friend of his seemed all too eager to do so.

What was his name again? Ah, yes, Beomgyu Choi. He was a pretty guy— now, that she was jealous of. Daniel was pretty, too, wasn’t he? Pretty people deserved other pretty people. Was she willing to let him go just yet, though? Not a chance.

Maybe she would, maybe she could, she thought as she looked at the sixteen flames illuminating Jay’s pretty face. Why was everyone so pretty? 

“Come on, Heather. Blow it out or else the wax will drip all over the icing!” There it was, his signature whines that would never cease in her presence— which, technically, meant that he complained all day, all night. That was, if the term in her presence was taken literally.

“Happy birthday, flower. You’ve bloomed beautifully.” Jay let out a snort, a quiet ew right after. “Do you have to be so cheesy all the time?” 

The man playfully jumps on the younger one’s back, quick tempered with his siblings— they were not real ones, but the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb, right?— pulling Jay in a chokehold.

Heather had learned that move from him years ago, not even Jay had been around at the time. Heather was five years old when Daniel had come up from behind her and put her head between his arm and torso, lightly giving it a squeeze. Enraged, she demanded he teach her how to do it. An hour later, mrs. Choi would enter the room to find her eldest son being choked out by a five year old little girl as he lay limp on the marble floors.

"Stop flailing around, I'm blowing it out now." The two separated themselves from each other, eagerly waiting for the dessert to be cut into slices for them to enjoy. Deliberately, she gave the older male a larger piece, finding joy in the way her two friends started bickering again over the unfairness of it all. She let them fight it out for a while before giving Jay a smaller second slice to even things out.

“You’re an adult, Daniel. I think it’s embarrassing for you to fight me like this.” Jay quipped from Heather’s bed, stuffing his face with the smooth icing. The girl eyed the cream in disgust, nibbling on the sponges cake instead. She’d never understand why bakeries preferred a seven to three ratio of cream to cake.

“I’m not technically an adult yet. I live with my mom.” Daniel retorted from his seated position on the carpet. Heather sat next to him as always, succumbing to the natural gravitational pull whenever the older male was around. She always felt the safest when next to him, then Jay, but she’d never tell him that. Who knows how he would react if he heard it from her own mouth that she liked him just as much as Daniel. He would never let her hear the end of it.

Sixteen year old Heather finally quit music. She cut it out of her life, the motion done as quickly and soundlessly as her mother had a few years ago, leaving her behind forever as she ran back to Korea. Heather wondered where she’d be in life right now if she didn’t have a Jay Park or Daniel Choi with her.

Lost, probably.

It’s March 21st, Heather turned sixteen at last, safe and sound with Daniel right next to her as she smiled at her best friend sitting on her bed in front of her.

⟡

The next morning, she made her way to wash her face, slowly slinking out of her soft bed and trying not to wake up the boy snoring next to her. She’d slid a pillow under his arm to replace her. Planting her feet on the floor, however, did not come to her as easily as before. Almost instantaneously, her knees buckled beneath her, knocking the breath out of her lungs as she groaned in pain after the impact on her palm registered. She’d reached out blindly, using her hand to brace her body.

“Heather?” The ruckus woke up an exhausted Jay, who still looked incomparably better than her even with an early morning puffy face. He smoothly kicked the blanket off of his body to help the newly turned sixteen year old back on the bed.

“Hey,” brushing away the few strands of hair that had escaped the braid Daniel had put it into the night before, he held her arm, concern etched all across his face, “Are you okay?”

“Damn it.” The brunet winced at the few tears that escaped Heather’s eyes, stomach dropping at her sniffles. She covered her face with her palm, the other clutching the fabric of her sweatpants. 

“This sucks.”

He tucked her in his chest, running his fingers through her hair and waiting till she calmed down from her abrupt meltdown. Looking at her tightened fist, he gathered her tighter in his arms, putting a warm hand over hers, slowly making her release her clothes. “You’re okay, don’t worry.”

Heather sniffled, trying to regain a steady breathing and pulling in deep breaths to soothe her hiccups. Jay kept smoothing a hand through her soft strands, patiently waiting. “I don’t know what came over me, I’m sorry.”

Jay shook his head, pressing a kiss on her temple, “Why apologize?” 

“I don’t know,” she sighed, wiping away the last drop of tear that slid down her cheek, “I just couldn’t hold it in. It didn’t even hurt. I guess I just felt disappointed.”

Jay hummed in understanding, bringing the pad of his thumb to swipe away the moisture around her eyes, “It can happen sometimes, I get it. Come, let’s wash up your face. You look prettier when you don’t have snot all over your face.”

The comment made her chuckle, giving his shoulder a friendly punch, “You don’t tell a girl that she’s ugly, especially when she’s crying her soul out. That’s super rude.”

“Am I supposed to lie, then?” Jay retorted, taking Heather gently by her arm and leading her carefully to the bathroom on the other side of the large space. Truthfully, Heather could never be ugly, not in his eyes at least. No matter how much he liked to tease her about the minor flaws in her appearance here and there, nothing ever seemed less than perfect in his eyes when it came to his closest friend.

Close to two years ago, Jay realized that Heather Brown was prettier than the angels his mother told him all about when he’d been younger. The purest beings, breathtaking and beautiful, those were traits Heather held as well. 

Even with eyes bloodshot, nose running a river and cheeks flushed from exertion, she was prettier than ever. 

“I think we should tell uncle about what happened.” He quipped from behind as Heather patted her face dry. He was leaning against the doorframe, frowning at something she couldn’t see on the floor.

“It’s getting too frequent. You literally fell over while doing nothing yesterday too.”

Heather stayed silent, assessing his words, “It’s getting worse, Heather. I’m just worried about you, your dad too.”

So many words were left unsaid, they both knew that, but with Heather’s insistence on keeping the progression of her disease a secret from her already busy father, Jay swallowed back his thoughts of concern and let her be.

For how long he’d let her live a life of lies, however, he didn’t know. Three years ago, their life had turned upside down with the few words of a man in a crisp white coat and this was the only way he could keep Heather Brown happy.

Just stay quiet, and let her be. He couldn’t possibly shoulder the heavy burden of being the one who insisted she stay locked inside a room surrounded by white walls, unwilling to be the one who ripped her away from her happiness. For now, he’d just let her be and do as she said.

⟡

Winter came quicker than expected that year, heavy clouds creeping over the lifeless buildings of Washington D.C.

Heather never expected her last Christmas break before she graduated high school to be spent cooped up inside a room that made her feel lonelier than her own one did whenever she was left to her own. The only thing accompanying her throughout her days was the large, framed picture of lilacs on the wall to her adjacent, the monotonous monitor to her side, a leather white couch next to the tall windows and the nurses who’d occasionally come and go.

Daniel Choi was busy these days, too. She hadn’t seen the older male in two weeks, quite the record for someone who’d talk to him face to face almost every few days. If not face to face, then at least on the phone where he’d tell her all about his day. He would always complain about something his friends had done, affectionately calling Beomgyu an annoying gum that was relentlessly stuck to him.

She heard that name a lot more often since the first time he’d introduced him to her almost a few years ago. Beomgyu this, Beomgyu that, Beomgyu here, Beomgyu there. It seemed like he lived and breathed by that name, not that Heather was jealous at all.

It was nice seeing Daniel befriend someone closer to his age. What was not nice was the fact that she felt like he was slowly drifting away. He wouldn’t pick up her calls when she missed his comforting voice, only answering hours later at times when even she wasn’t awake.

Daniel felt so far away, more so than he’d ever felt like.

What happened to her Daniel who’d nag her to eat her meals on time, scolding her for not drinking enough water? Where was he, the one who’d drive away all of her worries with a single smile, a lame joke? With a sinking feeling in her gut, Heather realized that Choi Beomgyu was stealing the most perfect human being in this world from her.

The thought brought a certain heaviness in her chest, the walls enclosing in on her. Her hands trembled, heart racing inside her ribs and her lungs felt like they weren’t getting enough air. Fear had her in a merciless clutch as she curled into a fetal position, cupping her hands over her ears, not even taking the presence of the nurse next to her in.

Daniel was leaving her and it was all Choi Beomgyu’s fault.

⟡

Nighttime crept over the sky, for once the moon reflecting light over those on the streets, illuminating the city in a soft glow. 

Heather felt better, good enough to wander down the halls of the large hospital in hopes of finding herself some entertainment, having already slept the day away. Energized for the night, she skipped down the empty corridors, careful to avoid any workers who might recognize the dreadful hospital clothing she’d been forced to put on when she first arrived last week.

“Snacks. I need snacks, lots and lots of them in fact.” She muttered at no one in particular, tracing an unending line on the wall as she went, taking a ninety degree turn to the right after confirming that her chances of getting caught were minimal. 

The automated machine stood proudly at the other corner of the corridor, as she found out after an unnecessarily lengthy trip around the quiet floor, lost in the maze while trying to follow a random blue line that led her to nowhere in particular, not that she knew of. Snickers or KitKat? She weighed her choices, fishing out a few coins out of her frankly quite shallow pocket.

And then she saw black.

Rubbing her forehead in defeat, she pushed herself up to sit on her knees, half having the mind to let out a string of less than pleasant cuss words as she massaged the area that throbbed. Her momentary blackout had led her to collapse right before the vending machine.

Heather pinched the bridge of her nose, reaching out to wipe away the small droplets of red with her sleeve. She hoped her nose didn’t look too bad for wear, “Great, just great.”

With a grunt, she made an effort to stretch her legs out to stand. That’s odd, wait, giving up on trying to hold a hand over her nose, she put out both arms and flexed, wondering why her legs didn’t seem to be functioning properly. I can’t feel anything, she tried reaching out to grab the handle of the sitting bank just an arm’s length away.

Her fingers strained as she clawed the air, hoping to get a grip on the metal bar. Tears of frustration welled up behind her eyelids while she dragged her limp feet with the help of her upper body, strength quickly dwindling as she had to handle all of her body weight. This cannot be happening, not now, she begged for a semblance of power to return to her muscles.

Please, a stray tear slid down her chin as anger rose within her. “Move already.” She slammed a closed fist over her incapacitated limbs. What a joke, cursed to a life of being a burden to everyone around her. “Just do as I say, why won’t you?”

Cursing, she harshly bit down on her lip, making a grand effort to slide her body and carry herself over to sit on the metal bench. Her heart pounded against her ribs, the adrenaline that had allowed her to will herself up slowly ebbing away. She laughed, a reaction forced out of her as she laughed and laughed.

She didn’t feel the traitorous tears trailing down the side of her face for the nth time that week, she didn’t recognize anyone’s voice as people started approaching her. Heather laughed at the injustice of it all, wondering what she had done wrong to go through and struggle with something most people did on a minutely basis. 

She laughed, bitter and tired of everything. 

Nurse Willows sat her on a wheelchair, a kind smile ever so present on her face despite the late hour and exhaustion probably wearing her down from the long day of hard work. “Come on, let’s get you back to your room.”

She liked Ms. Willows too, something about her giving her the same feeling of comfort that came with Mrs. Choi, Daniel’s mother and her cook. She had traces of age where her smile creased, but she still looked youthful, lively. She was just as kind as Mrs. Choi as well, she’d rejoiced at having someone nice to talk to when she would inevitably grow bored sitting around on her stiff bed. Heather barely saw her around after their first encounter, though.

Tonight was the second time she got to interact with Ms. Willows. Albeit the less than pleasant conditions, Heather fell back asleep on her way to her room as the older woman pushed her forward, pleased that it was Ms. Willows and not anybody else.

Tomorrow would be a better day, she hoped. It was Christmas after all.

⟡

Finding a snoring Jay next to her the next morning was the best thing that she could have ever asked for. 

He stirred in his sleep as she watched in awe, taking in his peaceful face like she always did. It had been months since she’d properly gotten to see him this close. She slowly smoothed over his cheek with the back of her fingers, barely hovering over his skin. Despite her best efforts at being subtle, his eyes fluttered awake anyways.

The sunlight was nowhere to be found at ten thirty-four am, right when Jay found himself staring into the eyes of his best friend. The room was dim with the only light coming from the hallway beneath her closed door. With what little brightness came in through the open blinds, shades of blue covering the sky behind the large glass panels, he took in her tired features.

Brown eyes never looked as good on him as they did on Heather Brown. Something about the way she looked at him felt like home, though to be fair, everything she did felt like home to him. There was no one in his life as clearly defined in who they were as Heather. His father, sure, along with his mother, but the person he’d wholeheartedly bellow the name of into the wind when asked who felt like home to him, was his one and only Heather, the girl peering right at him through the curtain of her lashes like he was her everything.

Like he was her everything.

And he was, to a certain extent. Heather thought back on the past ten entire years of her life, recounting the times Jay Park had proven time and time again that he’d always be the one person she could call her everything.

“You’re up.” Jay whispered, tracing small circles on her back with the hand he’d slung over her waist. He rejoiced in the way she fiddled in her position, feeling ticklish by his subtle pokes here and there where he knew she felt the most tickled by. Giggling at his onslaught, she quickly snatched his soft cheeks with her fingers and stretched the skin wide in an awkward grin.

Moving his cheeks around and bringing her hands together to make his lips puff out like a fish, she replied, “Who said you could invade my bed like this? It’s probably against the rules.”

Despite his hammering chest, he pulled her closer to himself, “It’s fine.” He could barely utter the few words through his squished face. “You wanna go out?”

Blinking, she strained her neck to spot the folded up wheelchair next to her small closet. Jay pushed himself to rest on his elbow, “It’s totally okay if you don’t feel like it, I just thought it’d be nice to see the snow.”

“It’s okay, let’s go. Help me up.” She stretched her arms forward, making a give me motion and pointed at the transport device she swallowed her pride and sat on with his help. “Push me as fast as you can.”

“We didn’t even notify the nurse or anything. You wait for like, a second, and I’ll be back in a minute.” After setting her down, he faced his body towards the door, rubbing the sleep quickly out of his eyes. He stopped when a hand pulled him back.

“Wait, why are you here anyways?”

“What do you mean?” The boy feigned innocence, half heartedly pulling his arm away from her loose grip. Heather steeled her expression, “I swear, Jay, if you pulled some funny business, then I’m sending you right back.”

It was at the beginning of year ten of school when Jay had decided he wanted to dance professionally. It was also in tenth grade that he’d finally convinced his father to let him audition, nearly spending the entire year coming up plans with her for the older man to finally cave in and let him quit the orchestra.

Heather had watched him dance for hours and hours on end, audition and then fail twice in a row before getting accepted into a small group. She had watched him pour his blood, sweat and tears throughout the past two years, every moment that would lead up to the big event not even a month away now.

There was no way he’d ditched going to the practice sessions just to take her out for something as mundane as a walk. “I’m actually gonna call uncle, Jay. I know how important the performance is, you shouldn’t be blowing off Sunghoon like that.”

“Chill,” He chuckled, flicking a finger over the bridge of her nose, “The regular meet up was postponed to tomorrow, because it’s a holiday and people have to be at home, exchange gifts and all of that jazz. The studio is closed for the day.”

“It better be.”

⟡

“I don’t have a gift for you.” Heather crossed her arms, looking at the small box resting on her lap. It wasn’t any bigger than the size of her palm, neatly wrapped with a white polka dotted paper, contrasting with the red background and glittering green ribbon tied around it in a typical festive fashion.

“I don’t need one.” He replied, sitting on the comfortable sofa across her as Heather fiddled with the small box. “Go on, open it.”

With great care, she unfolded the colorful wrap. “I’m gonna flip if it’s what I think it is.” She commented offhandedly, trying to cover up the glee seeping out of her voice. The velvet box felt familiar to touch, something she’d held in her hands once before, but never got around to bring it home with her.

“Oh, you bet it is.” Jay hopped off of the couch, flipping on the switch to her room. “I didn’t have the time to do anything special this year, but I know how obsessed you are with this, so yeah, sorry for the last minute surprise.”

“Want me to put it on for you?” Heather nodded at his offer, moving her hair to the side to allow him to clasp the dainty chain around her neck, the small pendant resting pretty on her décolleté. 

“There you go,” Jay stepped back to rake his eyes over her appearance, “You look very pretty.”

And indeed she was. Jay, for all of his life, prided himself in the fact that he had never once lied to anyone about anything. He wore his heart on his sleeves and kept his words simple and honest, truthful in everything he said or did. At times, his frank words hurt those who hadn’t heard what they wanted to from him, driving quite a few people away with the bluntness in his words. 

Everyone wanted to hear pretty white lies from him, turning their backs once they didn’t receive what they thought they would no matter how not unkind his delivery was. Honesty and sincerity, that’s what Jay prided himself in the most. Jay never lied, Heather knew that better than anyone else.

And so whenever he called her pretty, she felt like the most beautiful being in the world. If the words came from him, she’d take them to the bottom of her heart and encase it in a fragile glass container, cherishing it for a long, long time, because it was Jay’s words and Jay never lied.

For that night, she would truly feel beautiful, because he made her believe so.

⟡

July 21st only a couple of years ago, a summer day she remembered with every detail. Daniel had graduated high school just a little while ago and had decided to stay around, continue to make music on his own with his small group of friends, working small part time jobs in his other free time.

Heather had nothing to do that day with Jay away with his father on a trip and her own dad as busy with his business as always. It was Daniel who’d pulled her out of staying cooped up in her room all day. He’d dragged her out of her lonesome and taken her to a small ice cream shop next to the skatepark where kids mostly around her age usually hung out.

“You should try this mint chocolate one.” He’d begged her to try the minty flavored ice cream, to which she’d adamantly refused, knowing how he was aware that she hated it all the way to the depths of hell. Daniel could be annoying like that from time to time whenever he decided to shed his role of the ever loving, wise older brother.

“Suit yourself.” He’d replied with a sulk, typical Daniel fashion.

The heat rose from the asphalt, visible in the way it distorted the view of the park in front of the shop. She wondered if an egg would cook if she dropped it on the ground. It sure seemed like it was a possibility. Just like everything else however, she threw that thought behind, opting to enjoy the moment and her very delicious, very non-mint-chocolate ice cream.

The older male jumped right into step with her as they wandered out into the street, mindlessly wandering through the crowd of families and friends. He had an arm slung over her shoulder, chattering away about his plans for the next week. “You know what would be nice?” He piped up, nibbling on the cone in his right hand.

Heather didn’t reply, tilting her head to lock eyes with him as though she was questioning him. “What if we go on a little trip to the amusement park with Jay this Saturday? It’s been a while since we all went out together.”

She knew what he meant, the underlying message in between the lines. Still, she decided to ignore the unpleasant feeling, dropping her faux displeasure at him to contemplate on the suggestion. It had been a while since they’d had fun together, all three of them. “I’ll have to ask my father for permission, though.”

In a typical Daniel fashion, his lips curled into a lopsided smile, “If there’s anything I know about Mr. Brown after all these years, it’s that he won’t say no if I’m there to be your babysitter.”

“First of all, I don’t need a babysitter, much less someone like you.” Heather jeered at the older boy. “And secondly, remember that one time you almost let me drop from the fifty-first floor’s window when I was eight? And that one time you almost slipped down the wet stairs and dragged me down with you last year? I’d hardly consider you a capable sitter.”

She didn’t mention the time he’d gently held her while she mourned her mother’s departure, or when he’d patched her knees up when she’d fallen down from a tree branch while she and Jay were playing hide and seek at the park, or when Daniel had built them the biggest blanket fort the two younger ones had ever seen and have a movie night just because they’d both gotten great grades in their exam, or the time when he’d carried her on his shoulders because she couldn’t see the artist’s perform at the local music festival, or the time he’d trimmed her hair for her after she’d very unsuccessfully tried to give herself a new haircut.

She didn’t need to mention any of those instances where he’d been the angel taking care of her because he knew. Through her vulnerability with the boy she considered to be family, her constant little praises she liked to shower him with, her pulled back play-punches when he’d annoy her. Daniel knew that she saw him as the one that could do no real wrong, that he was her ever-loving and caring guardian.

Daniel knew, so when she said he wasn’t capable, he didn’t take the words to heart. He was so much more than just capable. Heather is an easy person for him to see through despite how others claimed the contrary.

Daniel knew that he was her everything, though it would be him in the end that would shatter her world.

© KOISHUA 2022, ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

[blurrypxls]

Random info tag

I was tagged by @lincolnplumbob, thanks! 

Nickname: Meg or Megs

Zodiac: Virgo

Height: 5'4, I think

Last movie I saw: Hmmm, I don’t watch movies very often my attention span isn’t that long lol... it may have been Fire Saga?

Last thing I googled: Houses for rent near me, trying to decide if after I graduate I want to stay in my uni city or move back to my home county avoiding my hometown like the plague though as much as i can lol and so weighing up my options haha

Favorite musicians: Taylor Swift, Dua Lipa, ABBA and Queen seem to make many appearances on my playlists.

Song stuck in my head: It’s changing all the time! But as I’m typing this, it’s Getaway Car by Taylor Swift as my friend and I were just screaming along to it in her car.

Other blogs: A couple of inactive ones.

Blogs following: ~140

Amount of sleep: 7-8 hours usually, but my sleep schedule is super inconsistent.

Lucky number: 3

What am I wearing: A deep green shirt and mom jeans, with hoop earrings and a necklace.  

Dream job: Still trying to work it out, but I think I’d like to maybe be an archivist? I’m doing a work placement module there on my masters course so we’ll see if I like it.

Dream trip: I'd love to go to Italy (Lake Como or Capri) or to the south of France!

Languages: Just English and basic French. 

Oceanside or mountain: Mountain

Do you play any instrument: Lol, I wish.

(Current) favourite song: It changes pretty much every week, but currently I’d say End Game by Taylor Swift.

Random fact: I'm starting to save money to start driving lessons again! I originally took a few lessons when I was 17 but I couldn’t afford it and my instructor was a bit of a dick. 

Describe yourself as an aesthetic of thing(s): The entire space aesthetic sums me up as a whole tbh, I’ve got loads of space-themed jewellery and prints in my room. 

[definitelynotaminion]

Alright, send me prompts. Preferably Naruto

And preferably femslash because I’m trying to get Bingo on my sapphic september card but I kind of need a break

PROMPT LIST http://blackkatmagic.tumblr.com/post/176501846800/caydenhathaway-ok-but-you-know-what-trope-i

Accidental sex

“Anything you can do I can do better INCLUDING THAT” sex

“You played a prank on me and now I’m going to play one on you except oops this accidentally got hot” sex

“You made an inaccurate assumption about *insert sexual or sexuality misnomer here* and I’m going to teach you the truth” sex

“You think you’re so smart so I’m going to teach you a lesson” sex

“Do you think I look good/hot/provocative in this? Wait is this turning you on???” sex

“You don’t know what *insert kink here* is and I’m really bad at explaining things and now we’re doing it oops” sex

“I bet I can dance/move/act like that and I don’t even have to be a dancer/stripper/actor/whatever wait are you turned on?” sex

“I lost a bet to you and the circumstances were supposed to be a joke but I took them seriously” sex

“You were joking about something and I took you seriously” sex

“You seem to think that __ won’t feel good and I intend to prove you wrong” sex

“You’re intentionally getting under my skin so I threaten to spank you/playfully spank you and now you look like you just got banged against a wall” sex

“I didn’t know you were a sub and when I called you a good boy/girl you almost cried” sex

“I didn’t know you were a dom and when I called you Sir/Ma'am you almost jumped me” sex

“Playing a prank on our freinds to make them think we’re a couple and now we’re in bed together” sex

“I’m fixing you *insert appliance/furniture/house thing hee* for you and now I’m sweaty and half naked and you’re drooling” sex

“I noticed the way you were watching me eat this popsicle so I purposely started making it an inuendo and now we’re both hot and bothered” sex

“Haha that thing they do in movies/porn/online is so corny like no way that’s actually hot haha oops it is” sex

“Freinds can totally watch porn together and nothing can happen…. no they can’t” sex

“I showed you *insert sexual thing here* as a joke but you’re actually turned on” sex

“You found my sex toys and I teasingly offered to demonstrate them welp here we are” sex

“I started pretending to dirty talk to you an hour ago and it stopped being pretending 58 minutes ago” sex

“All I’m saying is that I’ve been told I’m a good lay, wanna find out?” sex

“You said you don’t like __ but I bet the people you were with just don’t know how to do it, I, however, have experience and bet I could make you like it” sex

“We platonically slept together last night because of circumstances and we both woke up horny” sex

“This started as a tickle fight and it isn’t tickling anymore” sex

“We’re just bros being bros and doing something 100% platonic but somehow we’re turning eachother on because of not-so-burried feelings for eachother and we can’t make it stop” sex

Accidental sex ok?

OR: Other prompts. I’m not picky.

Actually here’s another list from Kat’s blog

Prompt List of Sarcasm

13 September 2018

SOURCE

eternalmikaelson:

“Well, what can I say? I’m a badass.”

“Define normal.”

“Do I get bonus points if I act like I care?”

“Just remember if we get caught, you’re deaf and I don’t speak English.”

“Don’t look for any redeeming qualities. I don’t have any.”

“It’s amazing how fast the world can go from bad to total shit storm.”

“I love you. You enormously stubborn pain in the ass.”

“And you wonder why you’re still single.”

“Remind me to kill you. Please.”

“I’m listening to you. I’m just not paying attention.”

“That’s a little melodramatic, don’t you think?”

“Were you dropped on your head?”

“She’s crazy. And just when you think you’ve reached the bottom of her craziness, there’s a crazy underground garage.”

“She may seem like lollipops and rainbows but I bet behind close doors she’s latex and whips.”

“If my day gets any worse, I’m asking hell if they’re having an exchange program.”

“Sorry. I don’t speak skank.”

“If I survive, can I go home?”

“My middle finger salutes you.”

“This is a whole new level of moronic, even for you.”

“I don’t think I could ever stab someone. I mean, let’s be honest. I can barely get the straw in the Capri Sun.”

“I don’t have enough middle fingers to let you know how I feel.”

“Insanity run in my family. It practically gallops.”

“Oh darling. Go buy a brain.”

“Somebody’s cranky.” “Somebody needs to shut up.”

“Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn.”

“All due respect, but that’s a bunch of crap.”

“I am one of the few people in the world who can murder you and leave no forensic evidence behind.”

“Excuse me. I have to go make a scene.”

“What did I tell you about calling her/him the devil?” “That it’s offensive to the devil?”

“I heard that!” “You were supposed to!”

“I need therapy after this.”

“You didn’t get in trouble for lying. You got in trouble for lying badly.”

“I’m not weird. I am limited edition.”

“I turned out liking you a lot more that I originally planned.”

“I think you’re weird.” “I think you’re boring.”

“If history repeats itself, I am so getting a dinosaur.”

“You seem somewhat familiar. Have I threatened you before?”

“I’m afraid I’ve been thinking…” “A dangerous pastime.”

“I’d explain it to you, but you’re brain would explode.”

“Wow, there’s a big surprise. I think I’m going to have a heart attack and die from surprise.”

“I’m gonna hit you so hard, it’ll make you ancestors dizzy.”

“Even when we were kids, I always kicked your ass!”

“Sarcasm is the body’s natural reaction to stupidity.”

“You’re good. A monster pain in the ass… but you’re good.”

“Well, excuse me, psychic wonder!”

“The female of the species is more deadly than the male.”

“Don’t look in her eyes, she might steal your soul.”

“She’s hot, but she’s evil.”

“Do I regret it? Yes. Would I do it again? Probably.”

“I already know that I’m going to hell. At this point it’s really go big or go home.”

“Go on, knock his teeth down his throat.”

“You’re going to burn in a very special level of hell. A level they reserve for child molesters, animal abusers and people who talk at the theater.”

“What’s the point in screaming? No one’s listening anyway.”

“I’m not a damsel in distress. I’m a damsel doing damage.”

“So stick that in your juice box and suck it.”

“Never take life seriously. No one ever comes out alive anyway.”

“This place hold a lot of memories for me. Some bad, some… No. No, no, all bad.”

“A little gasoline… blowtorch… no problem.”

“Good, bad, I’m the one with the gun.”

“I know you can’t kill anybody, ‘cause I can’t kill anybody.”

“You’re insane, but you might also be brilliant.”

“What you call insanity, I call inspiration.”

“Sometimes I question my sanity. Occasionally it replies.”

“Why should we date?” “Because we are attracted to each other.” “I am attracted to pie, but I do not feel the need to date pie.”

“Why does everyone assume the worst of me.” “It saves time.”

“I like you. You’re different.”

“You successfully cured him/her of anything interesting about his/her personality.”

“Neither one us is drunk enough for this conversation.”

“You’re questioning my methods.” “I’m not questioning it, I’m saying it’s stupid.”

“Wow, somebody needs a Happy Meal.”

“I didn’t do it!” “Then why are you laughing?” “Because whoever did it is a freaking genius.”

“Idiots. I’m surrounded by idiots.”

“You couldn’t handle me even if I came with instructions.”

“I care so little, I almost passed out.”

“Well behaved woman rarely make history.”

“You’re so weird.” “You have no idea.”

“The universe may not always play fair, but at least it’s got a hell of a sense of humor.”

“You haven’t even seen my bad side yet.”

“Obviously you have mistaken me for somebody who gives a shit.”

“How’s life treating you?” “Like I ran over it’s dog.”

“Rule number one: don’t bother sucking up. I already hate you, that’s not going to change.”

“Oh God, we’re not gonna have to hug or anything, are we.”

“I’m so glad you could come.” “Cut the crap. Give me a drink.”

“You make no sense to me.” “Welcome to my life.”

“Have fun being deal.” “I will.”

“Damn, you’re strong for a little thing.”

“It’s called thinking. Go with it.”

“I made a new friend today.” “Real or imaginary?” “Imaginary.”

“Where have you been all my life?” “Hiding from you.”

“I’m getting real bored and impatient. I don’t do bored and impatient.”

“The girl is strange no question.”

“Do us a favor… I know it’s difficult for you… but please, stay here, and try no to do anything… stupid.”

“I know most people don’t like me; I don’t care, I don’t like most people.”

“You are a very strange person.” “Well, thanks for noticing.”

“I can tell that you think what you’re saying is funny, but… no.”

“I didn’t steal it. I permanently borrowed it.”

“I’m not shy. I’m just examining my prey.”

“If you pull out my earphones, I will pull out your lungs.”

“I don’t dislike you, I nothing you.”

“Are you crying? No, I’m impersonating a fountain.”

“Ah, he’s playing hard-to-get. That’s cute.”

“You’re kinda anti-social, you know that?”

“I feel like a freakin’ soccer mom.”

“My advice is much more subtle. Stop being an ass.”

“I’m just gonna pack up and go straight to hell now.”

“My ex? Yeah, I’d still hit that. Except this time it would be with a car or baseball bat.”

“She’s complicated like the DaVinci code, you know but harder to crack.”

“And just like everything else we do around here, it’s about to get weirder.”

“Such big evil in such a little thing.”

“Why do I still like you, knowing you’re a total asshole?”

“What does not kill you will likely try again.”

“Oh honey, I would but… I don’t want to.”

“And hello to you too… little homewrecker.”

“I’m gonna make you wish you were dead.”

“I don’t need anger management. I need people to stop pissing me off.”

“What doesn’t kill me might make me kill you.”

“In another life, I think I was in a mental institution.”

“I’m not crazy. I’m just interesting.”

“Don’t make me pop your ten grand sand bags honey.”

“This is fun.” “Seriously, we’re trying to hide a body.”