#(listen brain has spent literal months trying to figure out an au name this is the best I've got-)

[starry-blue-echoes]

OK COOL SO-

In ASBR there's a fight between Yukako and Bucciarati, in which Yukako is aware of the inner workings of Passione, and even Bucciarati is surprised at how she knows. And that made me think "Oh Yukako's definitely part of the mafia" so now I have a Yukako joins the Bucci gang au. Basically after Part 4 Yukako's family moves to Italy and she and Koichi have a long-distance relationship as she keeps him from finding out she just joined a mafia because Koichi would just. Instantly blue screen at that fact. Also because Giorno steals Koichi's bag Yukako finds out and destroys him. As a treat <3 I have a whole fic about this if you're interested in it, plus art of Yukako in the Part 5 style I made.

BSFVNSRFNSBHBSHVBS W H E E Z E -

I'd love to read the fic if you'd like to share, but also I brought this up to an irl friend of mine, he thought it was hilarious, and I hope you don't mind if I ramble to you about some of the Thoughts we came up with for our own spin on the idea-

(also I'm writing this in the "universe" of my Cinderella Rewrite, just so I feel more comfortable with yukakoi just a heads up thanks okay bye)

so sort of a headcanon for me to start things off, but Yukako's parents are both very wealthy but also very VERY absent, and once she hit middle school they stopped hiring babysitters to watch her so she was more or less on her own aside from a handful of incredibly scant visits/phone calls. She never knew exactly where their wealth came from but it wasn't really like she could ask so

but then fast forward to the end of her first year of high school and her parents suddenly drop the bomb that they're moving for "business" reasons and she's going to live in Italy. Naturally she's completely heartbroken because she has a life here. Friends and a boyfriend and people she'd honestly call family, and now her parents are making her leave it all behind without so much as an explanation

it's..... definitely rough, but made a bit easier by how Koichi swears he'll do everything he can to stay in contact. They have calls at minimum four times a week, send each other packages all the time, and just do what they can because they genuinely want this relationship to work out

as for Yukako's decent into Passione Things and joining the Bucci Gang...... I'll admit, I'm not super sure how exactly at the moment. I want to keep it with the theme of how Bucciarati helps her out in some way, and I do have the mental image that she didn't spend a lot of time at home because the house was way too big and empty and it was honestly driving her crazy. He probably saved/helped her somehow and Yukako, who's been honestly starved of any kind of Positive Adult Attention since Morioh, just decides "welp, guess I'll die for him"

I think it would be funny if she didn't actually join the gang at first, she just kinda.... sneakily helps him out from a distance. She knows Stand Magnetism would force her to meet some Stand Users eventually, so at least this way she's doing it on her own terms. Of course she's eventually caught, but she does impress them with her knowledge on Stands and ability to use hers, so New Teammate Obtained

Yukako definitly gives them a different perspective on Stands. She's pretty cagey about the specific details of where she moved from, but they do know it has a pretty big Stand community and she's been in a fair amount of fights. They also know she has a boyfriend whom she loves greatly and if anything happens to him Someone Was Definitly Going To Die

I can see Yukako and Fugo are both Besties and Worsties, bonding over being Rich Kids With Shitty Parents and also the only ones who posses a whole Two(2) braincells all for themselves, but they also have two of the worst tempers and when they fight it's bad. She also manages to get on Abbacchio's Not Bad side somehow and the two like to vibe silently together like a pair of cats

and I had. Such a funy sorta angst idea for a way for canon to go (and everyone lives because Fuck Canon &lt;3)

so like. What if Koichi took the mission because it would be an excuse to visit Yukako. And the trip was supposed to be that week.

so ontop of the general stress of everything, Yukako is At Her Fucking Limit right now because she's supposed to be hanging out with her boyfriend for the first time in nearly 2 years, not going on the Worst Roadtrip Ever, she didn't even get a chance to tell him where she was going because this trip came out of nowhere-

and then by the time everything is over and Yukako gets back to Naples (still a little bit banged up from the last fight) it's unfortunately Koichi's last day here

were Diavolo not stuck in that death loop she would've ripped him to pieces with her bare hands

but then for a bit of fluff, a few months later thanks to the whole "now controlling the entire Italian underground which is a rather lucrative career" they're able to invite Koichi back so the two can hang out together for realsies this time

BUT in true Koichi fashion (for some crack), he accidentally gets ropped into Stand shenanigans and kidnapped again leading to a massive goose chase around the city

[babybamf]

Meeting and Dating Warren Worthington III

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

(We’re just gonna throw together a little au, alright?)

- You met Warren after Xavier brought him back to the school. Most people stayed away from him and rightfully so; he had teamed up with a malicious god and was partially responsible for the destruction of your school.

- You’d stayed away as well, which is what he seemed to want. He wasn’t exactly putting himself out there to make friends, not with his glaring and standoffish demeanor.

- A part of you figured that he really didn’t want people around him. That, no, he wasn’t just being “cruelly” ostracized by his peers; he was actively and consciously making sure people stayed away.

- But then another part of you reasoned that few people had actually attempted to get close to him, and to be fair, you hadn’t liked those people either.

- You’d contemplated going up and introducing yourself. In fact, you’d tried to, taking a deep breath and maneuvering your way across the school grounds towards him with that exact idea in mind. But the minute you came almost close enough to throw away any doubt that you were approaching him, he’d looked up at you with such cold and venomous fervor that you’d lost your nerve.

- Instead, you’d; thankfully, managed to continue on walking and coincidentally run into a younger student that you’d known, making it seem like that was your intention all along. You decided that day that Warren Worthington just hated people and you shouldn’t interfere with that.

- That would have been the end of it, and at the time you wished that it was, but that wasn’t the case. The moment you walked past the boy, it was like you’d painted a target on your forehead.

- Everywhere you went, Warren Worthington was there to stare at you from across the way. He’d set his sights on you and you weren’t sure which emotion was behind his gaze, though you were pretty sure it wasn’t one of the good ones.

- It took a few months of this, and you wondering if he was planning on killing you, for anything to actually happen.

- You’d been sitting in the lunchroom, reading a book when you heard the rooms chatter die down. There, at the entrance, stood Warren.

- He scanned the room, his eyes landing on you; much more passively than most other times, before moving to the nearly empty table across from yours. He made his way towards it, unfazed by the students who’d been occupying it scrambling to leave, and soon enough he was seated a few yards away with a perfect view of you.

- You tried to ignore him, turning to the book you’d brought in hopes of just forgetting he was there. Although, it was easier said than done when you could feel his eyes on you.

- More than once, you’d glanced over and caught him watching you; albeit it a bit more casually than usual. You wondered if he’d specifically come into the room just to look at you, you’d never seen him inside before; and he wasn’t eating, so you had to assume so.

- Finally, you turned back to your book and promised yourself you wouldn’t look at him, no matter how much your body was screaming for you to. The monkey part of you brain told you that this was a test and that averting your eyes was the proper move to make; so you made it ...up until you could feel someone standing in front of/at your side.

“I’m Warren,” Boy were you not expecting him to be British. His voice was like honey, even though there was a twinge of; what seemed to be, discomfort to it. He seemed out of his element. “I’ve seen you around. You’re Y/n, right?”

“Yeah uh, yeah, that’s right. ...Hi.” You answered nervously. He nodded and a long moment of silence passed between the two of you before he asked if he could sit down.

- It was awkward at first but then he asked you about a band and you started a near hour long discussion about music.

- Soon enough you were talking like it was a normal thing to happen, up until you were interrupted by a peer who told you that someone wanted to see you. You excused yourself and walked away, feeling more confident now that you knew you weren’t going to be murdered.

- Warren was sort of like a changed person after your first few initially awkward conversations; at least he was to you. He was still his intimidating self to everyone else but you; and in some regards Storm, seemed to be an exception.

- After a few weeks of you slowly seeing more and more of each other, he finally decided it was time to ask you out like he’d been intending all along. Well, he asked you out in his own way.

- It was late, he’d caught your attention with a “psst” and a flash of a bottle of liquor and motioned for you to follow him as he led the two of you outside. You soon found yourself sitting with him in the dark of the night, taking swigs from the bottle he’d snuck with you.

- You caught him watching you while you brought the bottle to your lips, taking a small gulp before moving to pass it back, only to be met with his face close to yours and his hand sliding onto your cheek. It was a matter of seconds before his lips were on yours but that short moment of anticipation had your heart racing.

- You spent the rest of the night talking and kissing and by morning you were official.

- Soo much Pda. He’s constantly touching you and trying to get you to kiss him.

- He loves when you kiss him. Surprise him with a little smooch; you’ll never see anyone look more in love than he will.

- Hand kisses.

- His hand in your back pocket.

- His arm wrapped around you constantly.

- Warren alternates between only calling you pet names and only calling you your name. When he is using pet names, he’ll call you things like babe, birdie, and love.

- He’s surprisingly loving considering how violent he used to be. You don’t expect it at first but he’s absolutely adorable when he’s around you.

- The instant he sees you, his day gets 100x better. Even if his face just goes from glaring to neutral whenever his eyes land on you, rest assured that his bad mood goes away the minute you appear.

- He’s always incredibly gentle whenever he puts his hands on you with innocent intent, like when he’s pushing your hair back or helping you put in an earring.

- He’s definitely affection starved and heartclenchingly so. You’ll go to gently touch his face for one reason or another and he’ll act like he’s never felt something better in his life.

- Cuddling is a bit difficult with the whole wing thing but you try your best. Sometimes you’ll just lay side by side and hold hands, other times he’ll cocoon the two of you while you lay on top of him, and other times he’ll lay down and you’ll just snuggle yourself into him the best that you can.

- Going flying. He rarely goes really high up with you in his arms, he himself is afraid he’ll accidentally drop you or you’ll get hurt in some other way.

- Stargazing or watching the sunset/rise on roofs of buildings.

- Sneaking out to spend time with each other away from everyone else.

- Blasting rock music as you drive through town.

- Abandoned building picnics? Abandoned building picnics. What’s better than being able to destroy everything around you and not being bothered by anyone.

- Nighttime walks around town. He sorta likes just wandering around the city with you.

- Helping him shop for clothes that will actually fit him, or helping him cut holes into his clothing.

- He’s grown to love his wings over the years so he always straightens up with pride whenever you compliment or touch them.

- Hickeys.

- Constant making out. He can’t get enough of you.

- Groping, blatantly too, just right in the middle of the street or hallway.

- Innuendos that make you blush.

- You’re either treated like a queen or being harassed like you’re dating a horny teenager. There is no in between.

- Kissing his scars.

- Occasionally, he’ll tell you stories about his fighting days. He finds it amusing to watch your face change whenever he recounts something particularly painful or malicious.

- He’s been known to get drunk for several different reasons so you’ll just have to find out which one it is while making sure he doesn’t die from alcohol poisoning or any dumbass decision he may make while wasted.

- Sharing booze.

- He probably has a tattoo of you or your name somewhere on his body. He’s a reckless person; it fits the vibe.

- He loves people knowing that the two of you are together, he’s so proud.

- Sooo many compliments.

- Sarcasm and affectionate name calling.

- He always gives you the cutest smile and a kiss on the cheek whenever you get him a gift.

- As surprising as it may be; considering the way he acts, he’s genuinely charming; and his face isn’t that bad either. He’s capable of making literally any girl swoon yet he still feels lucky to have you in his life.

- I feel like Warren just doesn’t like people and probably for a number of reasons. With that being said, he prefers to keep to himself, though he’ll tolerate social events; and your friends, for your sake.

- Warren is the type of boyfriend that would rather be seen than heard. Sure he loves talking with you, but he would rather listen to you talk instead of actually talking himself.

- With that being said, he can talk your ear off whenever he gets angry or jealous, wanting nothing more than to divert your attention from everything else and make you focus on only him.

- He’s a pretty jealous guy. He hates seeing other men around you, especially if it seems like you’re really close or that the guy has a thing for you.

- He’s definitely fought a man for flirting with or disrespecting you. The man does not play when it comes to you.

- Whenever the two of you fight, he’ll turn into the biggest sarcastic asshole that you will ever see. That being said, he’ll never yell at you unless you’re walking away from him and he’s calling after you in exasperation.

- If he’s in the wrong then he’ll apologize; albeit slightly begrudgingly. He isn’t very used to it so bear with him, he’s trying his best.

- He doesn’t tell you he loves you very often but you’ll definitely be able to tell that he does, especially as your relationship progresses.

- Though he may not vocally express it, he doesn’t intend on giving you up any time soon so let’s hope you’re in it for the long run.

[joyfulhopelox]

Red Gardenia

Pairing: Park Jimin x reader (non-idol!au, ballet!au)

Genre: fluff

Warnings: none

Word count: 7k (she the biggest one yet)

rating: pg

Summary: As a minor ballet dancer in the corps du ballet, suddenly thrown into the limelight you are struggling to cope with the pressure, but when a secret admirer with a love for gardenias comes forth you realise that you may actually be able to do it

Copyrights @joyfulhopelox for both the work and the banner

I want to throw the massivest thank you to my beta the amazing and talented @rosietae she's been the rock that supported this foundation and prevented it from crumbling. I had 2 breakdowns and a couple of identity crises when I wrote this one and her help has been a major pick me up. She made this from a withering bud into a fully bloomed flower and I can't express my thanks to her enough!

This is part 2 of my Love Blossom series and the 3/25 square for the @bangtanwritingbingo event (square: Park Jimin)

As always please leave feedback and/or talk to me as i love to hear from you! Enjoy <3

Entrée

A grand pas de deux usually begins with an entrée (literally "entrance"), which serves as a short prelude to and also unequivocally denotes the beginning of the dance suite.

You could do this, you could do this. You could definitely do this. The mantra had been in your head for the past few days. You’d hoped that the psychology articles about daily affirmations you read would work, but it proved to be more difficult than you thought.

Instead you felt like you wasted 10 minutes of your practice time, to stupidly look at yourself in the mirror. For those 10 minutes you kept telling yourself that you were able to dance as the main act in the show your ballet school had signed you up for. Maybe you were not doing it right; probably because you disconnected from those positive affirmations very often. So indeed, those 10 minutes were a waste of time.

Your mouth would say ‘you can do it’ but your brain would instantly doubt you, doubt your skills. You were always a dancer in the background and no one ever complimented your dancing more than necessary. How could you believe in yourself when, for years that’s all that it had been? Was all that doubt supposed to disappear just because all of a sudden you were called by your ballet master informing you of the big role change? You had been specifically picked to dance with one of the most prominent ballet dancers that your school had produced: none other than Park Jimin himself.

Everyone knew of him. He travelled abroad multiple times to be the star of a lot of performances. From New York, to Moscow, to Hong Kong, everyone had seen him in at least one performance. This, as well as the fact that you were a couple of years his junior, and in the corps du ballet instead of a soloist, had made it impossible for you to catch more than a glimpse of him around the school. But of course you had heard of him and his stellar performance. Everyone in your school had, but very few actually had the chance to interact with him. He seemed to have a small group of friends that he mostly spent his time with, but no one else seemed to have gotten the chance to get close to him, which instantly made him a snob in your eyes. He probably had the personality of Narcissus himself. Always so high up his own, it made it difficult for him to get the reality check from the people down below. No matter how much your friends berated you for thinking this way, you were certain you were right.

So imagine your surprise when you were told you had been picked for a pas de deux and he was to be your partner. Surprised was a very mild word for how you really felt. Astonished, perplexed? Those two seemed more appropriate. Not only had you been picked to perform on the stage outside of your usual group but you had the famous wonder boy Jimin as your partner.

For the first few days your friends would only see and hear your excited smile and squeals. You had been waiting so long for this opportunity to come by and now you finally had the chance to prove yourself. No one even threw a second glance at the dancers in the corps du ballet. As a group, you were all there to tie in the loose ends that the soloists and main dancers could not. You were the background of a painting. Without it, the painting was incomplete, but no one observed it in detail. It was not as if you were thinking ill of your fellow dancers, but you had promised yourself and your parents when you chose ballet as your profession that you would make it big. You would stand on that stage and perform as a soloist, in the light, the piece de resistance. And so you worked hard to be noticed. Asking extra questions during lessons, making sure you did the movements perfectly. Staying after hours in the abandoned studio to practice until your feet hurt and bled,having to ice your muscles every night, going home late and heading back out early, the tears, the criticism. It didn’t matter to you. You had a dream. And now, all that hard work seemed to pay off. You would be there on that stage in the limelight.

Soon enough though, reality set in after the second meeting you had with the ballet master. You realised the pressure of not only having to be a main performer, but also standing on the stage with the pride of your school. Your demeanor instantly changed. Instead of exaltation, you were filled with dread and anxiety.

Heading to your locker,you grabbed your gym bag, ready for another hour of basic ballet techniques before you met up with your friends.

“Hey, Y/N, the artistic director is looking for you” they motioned to the general direction of where the offices were.

“After class?” you inquired and they nodded at you.

You gulp, what if they are going to pull you away from the show? You don’t let that thought fester in your head for too long because a red flower taped to your locker caught your attention.

“Oooooh, I see they’re at it again” your friend teased, lightly nudging you with their elbow. You smiled softly to yourself and gently peeled off the tape.

A red gardenia, secret love. Whoever had been harbouring these feelings for you, had been doing it for almost 3 months. They had yet to confess their feelings to you. At the beginning you thought it was a scam and scoffed at the flower, throwing it away whilst telling your friends your opinion of ‘poor jokes like these’. A few weeks after that the flowers kept coming in. You finally accepted that it was not a prank, and someone was expressing their genuine admiration and love for you, when one day along with the gardenia a note waited for your attention.

‘Please accept my feelings’ that was it, no name and no indication of who it may be. But it did make you realise that this person was real, and you instantly felt ashamed of the flowers that you had thrown away until then. Had they noticed you doing that? You hoped not. If they had come out and admitted who they were, you would’ve apologised to their face about your insensitivity.

Without responding to your friend’s playful teasing, you gently put the flower behind your ear and turned around. “Let’s get going, or we’ll be late.”

Unbeknownst to you, a couple of lockers down, a boy with hair the colour of sand smiled fondly to himself, watching your form retreat.

Adagio 1

The adagio or adage (meaning "slowly") part of a grand pas de deux features graceful and elaborate partnering by the dancing pair. In the adagio, the ballerina performs elegant, often slow and sustained movements while the danseur supports her.

“Y/N, thank you for coming to see me before class” your ballet master said, motioning for you to take a seat. “Now, I have told you about the performance, but seeing as things are settling and the performance schedule of Swan Lake will be ending soon, I need to update you on yours.” All you could do was sit in silence and nod once in a while, trying to not look like an excited mess and potentially ruin your chances. After all, a ballerina had to have poise and grace, and if you ruined that image, the role could have been handed over to someone else easily.

Shuffling some papers on her desk, she fished a thick folder out of them and stuck it out for you to take.

“Is this the full schedule for the performance?” your voice wavered, seeing the enormity of the folder reminded you of the enormity of the situation. You were about to perform as a main dancer. No more the quiet mouse dancing in the back or the even worse placement of being a backup for a performance.

“Ah, no dear, this is just the contract. As you know, you will be working with our school’s pride, Park Jimin.” You tried your hardest to keep a neutral face and not scoff at that. Of course the teacher would be shoving Park Jimin’s greatness into your face. “And because he is an international dancer, we cannot afford to have him exposed to any potential issues that may arise if anything were to happen.” Her tight lipped smile stopped you from inquiring what she thought may go wrong, so instead you resigned with a nod of your head. Your friends would listen to your rant later, there was no need to explode in your teacher’s office.

After that encounter, which ended up with you not only being insulted as a ‘minor’ figure in the school as opposed to the illustrious Jimin, but also having to lug a contract as big as a dictionary.

“Who needs a contract as big as this? Who does he think he is? International star my foot” you huffed as you struggled to carry the said atrocity and your gym bag down the hall. “I mean, international dancer but also how much trouble does he get into to need so much coverage for his ass? I get it, his ass is big enough to need a hefty contract….!”

Your friends, who’d tried to warn you beforehand of the situation you ended up up stumbling in, gasped. You were not paying attention to where you were headed and oh so ungracefully smacked your head into someone’s shoulder. “Oh, I’m sorry” not looking up, you bent down to pick the gym bag that fell off your shoulder on impact.

“It’s ok” a soft voice responded and you swear you can hear angels sing in your ear. You quickly glanced up, the gym bag long forgotten by now. You wanted to put a face to the melodious voice. And so the dream ended and the angel choir broke up. No longer apologetic, your face instantly dropped. It did not matter you have never interacted with him before and that for a first time meeting you were being incredibly rude. Not when the voice belonged to the one and only aforementioned Park Jimin.

“Oh, it’s you”

Smiling brightly at you he nodded, “it is me”.

His soft and plush features were enough to intimidate you. Not that he looked fierce, not by a long shot. It was the opposite, he looked so innocent it almost made you regret ever thinking he was a stuck up brat. Round cheeks, plump lips and eyes that reflected his bright smile, he looked handsome. His sand coloured hair and the blue contacts made him look princely handsome. And you hated it. “Are you Y/N by any chance?” you pondered whether or not you should have responded to him, but your friends made that decision for you before you could utter a word.

“Yes she is” they nudged you to say something. You shrugged, trying to look nonchalant.

“Yes, hi….” you trailed off. You were not close enough for you to be calling him by his name before he even got the chance to introduce himself properly to you. “Jimin” he filled you in, offering you his hand to shake. Having little faith in you and your ability to be polite, your friends nudged you again in a silent warning to not push his hand away. You had to admit the thought had crossed your mind for a couple of seconds, but your parents had not raised you that way. Glaring at the offered hand, you grabbed it in a firm shake.

Jimin faltered a bit, your intense grimace making him think he was an inconvenience. “Well, uh, nice to meet you” you glanced at him, catching the shy look he was giving you before letting go of your hand and stepping aside. “I will not keep you any longer, I will see you later” He hurriedly retreated to his friends, who were on the side waiting for him. You observed the scene silently for a few seconds whilst chewing on your bottom lip. Maybe he wasn’t as bad as you made him out to be. But when two of his friends laughed and patted his back in a congratulatory way, you instantly changed your mind.

Variation-Him

Upon completion of the adagio, the dancers separate and each dancer, in turn, takes center stage and performs a variation (1)

To say you had stopped thinking about the pretentious Park Jimin and the encounter you had would be a total lie. How could you, when you were meant to start practicing for your duet in a few days?

Not only that, but from someone who you’d barely see around the school, he turned into someone who would not leave your eyesight. Not by choice, though you would admit sometimes you would seek his form after hearing his laughter nearby. In your defence, he had a very light and airy voice, one that was instantly recognisable and so your traitorous eyes would be drawn to the sound.

Moreover, the way you treated him at the time, as well as the knowledge that you would be performing a pas de deux together, made it impossible for your peers not to gossip. And so, your name and his were strung together and uttered by everyone that would pass by you.

“It is becoming kind of annoying now,” you muttered angrily to your friends. They had tried their best to keep you level headed during the period but they were finding it more and more difficult to try to reason with you.

“Look Y/N, you are getting to perform on stage, with a great dancer” your friend raised their hand up and covered your mouth with it when you instantly tried to protest. “Nuh-uh, as much as you have a personal vendetta against him, you have to admit he is a great performer. This school does not pick talentless people'' you sighed, they were right. He was a good performer, but you were not ready to admit that yet. Not when that would have given him more rights to be prideful about it. Pushing your friends’ hand away, you whined, “He may be a great dancer, but that puts even more pressure on me to be good, otherwise any chance I may have had at a career as a main performer is gone!”

“Hey, you will be just fine! You got picked for a reason!” your friend tried to encourage you but you could only smile sadly at them, finding it hard to believe it. “Plus, your admirer seems to think so too” your friend smiled smugly at you.

Rolling your eyes at them you scoffed, “what, am I supposed to believe the words of someone who can’t even come out clean with who they are? All I know is that they could be someone who has no clue what they are talking about. I mean, they are confessing their love for me. I wouldn’t call that good taste.”

“Maybe you should,” the voice you had come to know very well over the past few weeks spoke from behind you. Confusedly, you turn around “huh?” did he happen to know something about it? Could it be him? Giving you a once over, Jimin cleared his throat. “Maybe you should, you know, hurry up. Our first practice starts in less than 10 minutes. Don’t know about you, but I would like to warm up before anything” his soft smile faltered when you glared at him. You couldn’t help it, spending so much time hating a made up version of him in your head made it impossible for you to warm up to the real version. And his last comment did grate your nerves, was he implying that you weren’t able to manage your time effectively?

You didn’t miss the slight hurt in his eyes as he passed by you, and against your better judgement your heart twinged. Saying a quick goodbye to your friends, you rushed down the corridor to catch up to him.

“Hey, Jimin” he didn’t stop. Not because he couldn’t hear you, but because the slightly panicked look on his face was not something he wanted you to witness. He had almost given himself away, but he couldn’t stand hearing you talk about his admiration and yourself in that way anymore. He tried to play it off as reminding you of the time, but then you gave him that look, a look that told him you really did not want anything to do with him. At that thought, he felt his heart drop to his stomach faster than he could say pas de chat.

“Jimin wait” he did not want to wait, but he listened to you. Why? Because even if you seemed to hate him with a passion, he would do anything for you.

You thought you had not met before, and in a way Jimin supposed you hadn’t. Not in person at least. But he was there when you had your performance for the entrance exam. To say he was entranced from the very beginning was an understatement. His eyes didn’t leave your form. Every pirouette, every arabesque, glissade, plie... you moved like silk in the wind: smooth, seamless, weightless. When your performance was finished, his heart felt weightless and completely enamoured.

He tried to talk to you after, but you disappeared as quickly as you had done your jete. All he was left with was your name from the application form and the hope that you would succeed in entering so he could see you again.

Bringing himself back to the present, he didn’t turn to face you, and you could not bring yourself to apologise, as the words got stuck in your throat. Instead, you walked a few steps ahead of him and stopped. Doing a silly turn on pointe you gave him an unsure smile, “you coming?”

Variation-Her

In general, the variations are intended to showcase spectacular, acrobatic leaps and turns, as well as the skills and athleticism of the individual dancers.

“Now, Y/N, what did I tell you? This has to be all allegro! Quick, quick, quick!” Your director clapped his hands as if to make a point of what quick meant. You nodded, your breath coming out in heavy pants. Having been practicing all the brisees and pas de chat for a good four hours, you were already tired. Your limbs felt like they were made of lead and your breath came out in shallow rasps.

“Once more” You bit your lip as you tried not to glare at them. You barely got a break and it was just the first week. You had a lot more weeks to perfect it. Indeed, it was not perfect and your insistence on not being closer to Jimin during the partnered moves made it even more awkward. The dance was just not flowing as it should have. Flower Festival in Genzano was a classical pas de deux performance, with rapt moves expressing the happiness and flirtation between two young lovers.

Yours portrayed more of a tragedy between two lovers than the blossoming of love between them. Your movements were adagio instead of alegro, and the swiftness of the intended movements were rough and unsure. Frustrated couldn’t even begin to explain how you were feeling.

Jimin, had yet to utter a word during this time , and in a way you were grateful. You didn’t think you could stand it if he’d opened his mouth to boast about his skills. His moves were graceful, quick, resembling a lark hopping through the grass. He had a lightness of movement that made you realise why he was called the wonder boy of the school. Looking as if he was as light as a feather, he breezed through his variation with ease.

“Y/N, come on, up up up!” the director clapped their hands impatiently. “Your variation from the beginning” gesturing you to get off the floor they restarted the musical accompaniment. Huffing in distress you quickly got on your feet, a sharp pain shooting up your calf. Grimacing you tried to get into position, but with the music being way ahead of your start you fumbled around to get into the right position. It only took a wrong turn of your ankle during a quicker brise for your whole leg to cramp causing you to fall into a heap on the floor.

“What are you doing? Up! From the beginning, you can’t be lazing around. Look at Jimin, he’s done his perfectly. You can’t be sullying his name like this.” Trying your hardest to hide the tears of pain and humiliation out of your eyes, you slowly got on your knees in an attempt to get off the floor.

“Uhm, maybe it would be better if we took a small break?” for the first time since you’ve started Jimin spoke up. Shooting him a stubborn scowl you pushed yourself up with great effort. Stumbling a bit from the pain in your leg you refused to give up. “No, I can do this”

“Y/N, look at you” he slowly approached you as if you were going to strike like an injured animal. And maybe that is how he viewed you. Weak and easily hurt by your lack of talent and professionalism. Before you could retort, the artistic director abruptly stopped the music.

“Yes, Y/N, look at you. You’re stiff and uncoordinated. You’re making the proverbial bull in a chinashop look like a ballerina. How can I let you perform next to Jimin? He’s an international star and he has a reputation to maintain. You’re doing your best to sully that” hurtful tears started pooling in your eyes. Maybe you should just withdraw now. Clearly, no one thought you were good enough. As if to confirm your unspoken thoughts, they carried on, “you were not my first choice by any chance. But you were asked for, specifically, so I had to comply. Please don’t treat this like you do with the corps du ballet.”

You tried your best to reign in your tears, you could not expose your feelings like that. One wrong move and they could’ve removed you from the performance.

“Sir, I think it is best we stop here for the day” Jimin suggested. Who was he to ask for such a thing? How dare he ask the artistic director to stop for the day, as if they would listen to him. “I, uh, forgot i have another meeting in half an hour and it’s best if I don’t miss it” you glanced at the two, a heavy feeling settling into your stomach when you observed the change in the director’s demeanour. Grovelling, he assured Jimin that you’d stop there for the day, flourishing his respect and admiration for how hardworking he was. With a last disappointed glance at you and a scoff, they exited the studio.

It was just you and Jimin left, the silence deafening. Pretending to be busy with tying your pointe shoes, you refused to glance at him. You felt disgraced and belittled. Even though you were aware that Jimin had said nothing against you or your performance, you couldn’t help but channel all your hurt into your behaviour towards him.

“You ok? You should go get that checked” finally gathering the courage to address you, Jimin crouched down to have a look at your leg. You retracted it instantly before his hand could touch you.

“I’m fine, don’t be late for your meeting” you snapped at him.

He observed you in silence for a few moments, and you didn’t know if it was the look on his face which screamed pity to you, his concern for your wellbeing, or the humiliation that you have faced because of him, but your anger levels increased exponentially.

“Look, you don’t need to pity me, I’m fine, just go and show the world your greatness and stop bothering with the likes of me” you huffed. “I’m clearly not good enough and need to improve” your voice softened. You knew you were angry at yourself and not at him. He’d been nothing but kind to you from the first moment you have spoken. Maybe that was why you were taking it all out on him. He was always close to perfect. And it irked you.

“I’m not pitying you. In fact, I admire you a lot.” His confession made you snap out of your thoughts and look at him in disbelief. His cheeks were tinted red and you couldn’t help but think of how cute he looked when he was bashful like that.

“You don’t mean that,” you whispered. “Why would you mean that?”

The silence that ensued, along with the uncertain look on his face, made you think that he would finally admit his joke and tell you that he didn’t mean it. He was him, and you were you. The thought made your heart ache.

“Why do you hate me so much?” he finally asked, and you were once again taken aback, not expecting the change in subject.

“I— don’t. You irritate me, but I don’t hate you,” at your words his expression instantly changed to confusion and a slither of hurt flashed across his face. You hurried to explain yourself, “look you are perfect, everyone clearly loves you, you are nice and everyone flocks around you like bees to honey. And it annoys me. But that is my shortcoming, and not your fault so forget I said that” you sat up quickly, the pain in your leg making it difficult. But a warm hand grabbed your forearm. You wanted to shake it off since you did not want his help, but the heat and support it provided was exactly what you needed. And in that moment you realised that, just like everyone else, you had fallen for him and his charms. He was definitely not what you wanted. What you wanted was to be able to perform to the best of your abilities, to stand on that stage proudly next to him. But what you actually needed was him, his soft words, and his sweet gestures that somehow managed to lift you up and nurse your pride, if only by a bit.

With that realisation, fear and determination gripped your heart. “You should go to your meeting” you nod towards the door. “I’ll be fine” seeing that he was prepared to protest, you added quietly, “please, I would like to be alone right now.”

With a heavy heart, Jimin let go of your arm and retracted slowly. Your words hurt, but they also gave him hope that he may actually stand a chance at becoming your rock. And for now that was all he wanted from you.

“Please rest and get that checked” He said, before he turned around and looked at you wistfully one last time, “I don’t really have a meeting to go to, but i will leave if you want me to”

His exit was swift and graceful, but his heart was heavy and uncertain. How could he make it better for you? How could he convince you to trust in your skills more? Suddenly, he got an idea and he prayed that it would work. It was a shot in the dark, but it was the only one he had.

Adagio 2

A few days after that, you were by your locker once again, with a red gardenia in your hands. With a letter grasped between your fingers, you decided you would read it later as you saw your partner approaching. You hadn’t practiced together since that day, left on your own with the artistic director to practice your variation. The first time you entered the studio and realised that Jimin would not be joining you had made you nervous.

As much as you’d tried to ignore it, it strengthened the realisation that you did need him. In such a short amount of time, he made it so that you saw him as comfort and protection. His soft demeanour and worried glances melted your resolve to loathe him. You were ready to admit you were wrong about him, but you did not get the chance to until now.

Approaching you, he smiled unsurely. You looked a lot better and a lot more rested. He only hoped that having a separate chat with the artistic director gave you a small break in his absence. Sparing a short glance at the flower and letter in your hand he tried his best to hide his smile. Instead he motioned to it as nonchalantly as he could, “Secret admirer?”

With the flower in your hand, forgotten at the sight of him, you quickly rushed to hide it behind your back. “Uhm, none of your business” your cheeks were dusted in pink, making him smile at you fully, his eyes crinkling in amusement. “You ready for today? We’re practicing the duet together”

“Ah, so you will be part of this one then?” You tried to make it seem like you didn’t care as to where he had disappeared in the last few days as you subtly prodded him for more information. Quickly catching onto your scheme, he smirked.

“Did you miss me?”

You scoffed, “Not by a long shot wonder boy. Let's go or we’ll be late, don’t know about you but I would like to warm up first” You turned around and started walking away from him, completely missing the lovestruck Jimin you left in your wake.

“Huh” he whispered to himself. You'd rendered him speechless once again.

Hours of practice later, everything went down better than the first time you’d worked together, as you had all the movements down to a ‘T’. Unfortunately, you were so focused on getting the technicalities right that you forgot about the freedom of the movement that went with the dance. You were stiff once again, and lacked the passion that the female lead should portray.

“No, no, no, Y/N. Once more from the top” the artistic director shooks their head in disapproval. You could feel frustration bubbling up threatening to spill in the form of tears once again. Before that could happen, Jimin instantly called for a small break, under the excuse that he needed to readjust his pointe shoes. He motioned for you to sit down next to him, and you shakily and reluctantly took a seat next to him on the floor. You couldn’t even look at him, let alone address him. Once again doubt started creeping in your thoughts.

“You need to relax more. Feel the steps, don’t think the steps” he whispered to you. Without giving you a chance to respond, he quickly got up and the artistic director immediately rushed to start the music again. You had no choice but to get into position, his words still swimming inside your mind. Feel the steps.

You tried, you swore you did. But somehow, it wasn’t working. By the time it got to the adagio, which was less slow and more of a petite allegro, with smaller and quicker movements, you were ready to give up. You felt as though you were made of wood. When it came to the partnered planche, all you did was stiffly raise your left leg to the back with your arms behind you, waiting for Jimin to grab them.

Improvising, he gripped you from the waist to support your planche, instead of grabbing just your hands from behind your back. He brought himself as close to you as he could, his warmth enveloping all of your senses. Luckily this planche was on flat— your foot planted firmly on the ground, rather than on pointe—otherwise you would’ve lost your footing and toppled over on the floor. He smelled good. Funnily enough, he smelled like gardenias in the warmth of the sun. For a second you couldn’t breathe, forgetting entirely where you were. All you could focus on was his gentle grip on your waist and his breath in your ear as he whispered, “focus on me”

As if he’d muttered a magic word, your guard fell down. All your insecurities melted away at his touch. Your brain was filled with the thought of him and as soon as you came down to pirouette in his arms, he was all you could see. Today he wasn’t wearing contacts, offering you an unobstructed view into his chocolate coloured eyes. His smile was soft and encouraging and his hands around you were strong and supportive. He was silently attempting to tell you that he had you, that you could trust him. There was something else hidden there deep in his eyes, however. As you stared at him for a second longer, trying to decipher what it was, something in you shifted. But the next move didn’t wait for either of you, so you quickly moved away from his arms and into the next position.

This time though, things were different. You feltl it in your movements. The uncertainty and stiffness was long gone. You both moved as one, even with your individual variations, you both came back together as if an unknown string was connecting the two of you.

As the end of the last note on the track rang out into the studio, so did the dream of two young lovers. Both you and Jimin finished returning to the first position in tandem, as if you were one. The two of you panted for different reasons. You, from the effort and the thrill of the closeness that you’ve both experienced. Him from performing without breathing, as his heart threatened to burst at having you so close to him. The performance gave him a snippet of what it would be like for him to be your real lover. And it was intoxicating.

The satisfied smile that the director gave you told you that you’d done it. You finally let go, and it was all thanks to Jimin. Excitedly, you turned your head to beam at him. The admiration in his eyes caused warmth to pool in your stomach. You finally saw the invisible string that tied you both together during the duet. It was affection.

Coda

A Coda is a classical ballet term that refers to the finale of a group of dancers and more often, the finale of a pas de deux.

No one spoke of what had transpired between you and Jimin that day. Completely ignoring your admittance, as well as his confession, you tried your best to act professionally. Practicing both together and apart made the days blend together. In that time you attempted to ignore the feelings that were threatening your performance (and your sanity). There was no time for any of that. You had a dream and this was your only chance to grasp it.

For weeks on end, all you did was practice, completely missing out on sleep and any social activities that your friends partook in. You avoided any social interaction that stepped over the small ‘Talk’ line. And you most definitely avoided your partner outside of your practice sessions. Whenever you would see him come from the opposite end of the corridor, you would quickly turn around and pretend you were looking for something in your gym bag. Sometimes, if you were lucky enough, you’d quickly veer to go towards the toilets. You made sure that there was no chance for the two of you to speak outside of the performance, afraid that you would blurt something out that you’d have rather kept to yourself.

The only interaction you had, if you could call it that, was with your secret admirer. And by interaction, you meant smiling at the flower he’d tape to your locker. Oddly though, for the past few weeks they would leave little notes taped next to the flower. From encouraging messages such as ‘You can do it’ to longer ones that spoke highly of your performances and your capability as a dancer. They were never consistent in length or content, but were always signed off the same way: ‘Forever yours, your secret admirer’

Weeks had passed, and with each day your confidence grew alongside your feelings for your partner. Even with little verbal interaction between the two of you, you were dancers. You did not need words to convey messages, and you certainly didn’t need words to convey feelings. Each time you would reach the finale of the dance you were breathless and dazed, craving for more.

More had to wait though. This was it, the first day of the show. You were nervous to say the least, but having worked so hard, day and night, and with the knowledge that no matter what Jimin was there to support you, you were as ready as you’d ever be.

Thinking about it, from someone you thought was a narcissist to someone you’d viewed as a rock, Jimin had managed to ground you and lift you up at the same time. You’d fallen so hard and fast for him, that you didn't even know what hit you. However, at the thought that there was still a secret admirer that had silently cheered you on, and the fact that Jimin was still a more professional dancer than you were, he probably made each one of his partners fall for him quickly. That was enough to dampen the fire in your heart. You would carry on with this performance and prove yourself to everyone. Prove that you deserved a spot on that stage as a main dancer. Show everyone that you deserved the spot standing next to Jimin, even if it was only as his dance partner.

“Hey, Y/N” your friends greeted as you were putting on the make up for the performance. “Are you nervous?” One of them asked as they all crowded around you.

Laughing, another one of your friends responded, “why would she? I bet she’s smug, now that she’s been favoured by the top star of our school. She clearly caught his eye from the beginning if she’s been personally requested by him” your friends' words left you confused, so you turned around to face them.

“What do you mean?”

They looked at each other warily. “You mean you haven’t heard?” They asked you and you shook your head, left even more confused. “The other day someone heard the artistic director discussing how they didn’t think that you’d pull through, but you did and that Jimin was correct in requesting you as his partner for the performance. Apparently…” they would have said more if not for the appearance of said man at your door. Quickly they wished you good luck and exited the room leaving the two of you alone. He looked dashing in his white shirt and tights. The shirt was made of a silky material to allow freedom of movement and the top buttons were undone, exposing his defined collarbones and the white of his skin. It was tantalizing enough to make you swallow thickly.

However, the words of your friends still buzzed in your head, and you didn’t have the time to ask him if it was true. You were both hurried by your ballet master towards the entrance to the stage. It was time.

In the last few minutes before you were supposed to exit and show the world what both of you had worked for, you expected to be nervous, yet you felt strangely calm. Taking advantage of the stillness around you, you stole a glance to your right. Jimin looked tense, more tense than you had seen him before, and you couldn’t help but wonder if it was because of the performance or because he suspected what you were about to ask him.

“Is it true?” You whispered, not holding back. You needed one last piece of information before the puzzle was complete. And you wanted him to freely offer you that piece.

His jaw muscles twitched, and you could see his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallowed. The silence between you two was even more deafening. It was as if the dancers that pitter-pattered around you, or the people chatting in the audience, did not reach the bubble around the two of you. The string that connected the two of you before, was shortening in length until there were mere inches between you two.

“You made it up to this stage on your own” He whispered, “There is nothing else bringing you up here but yourself. You may think I’m irritating, but in reality, you hate me.” He prevented you from responding by grabbing your hand. His hands were warm, while yours were clammy. “You can’t say hateful things about yourself and claim that you don’t hate me. If you hate yourself, you hate me. If you belittle yourself, you belittle me. So please don’t do that anymore. If you care even a little…” He didn’t continue, he couldn’t. He was on the verge of tears. You could hear it in his voice.

What he implied didn’t go unnoticed by you, and you were more than ready to surrender. But you needed one more thing. “And the flowers?”

Instead of offering you a straight up response he raises his right hand, the one that was hidden from you until now.

You let out a short breath. The puzzle was complete. In his hand stood a lone red gardenia. His secret love.

Well, not so secret anymore.

“Do you trust me?” He asked with a smile.

Smiling back at him with all the love you could muster, you intertwined your fingers together.

“Yes, yes I do.”

Main Masterlist

[binniesthighs]

hello stranger | reader x changbin |

a/n: I sincerely apologize for the pain caused with last chapter...so naturally, i had to go and write more pain muahaha. i also apologize for the wait on this one, for some reason i had a weirdly hard time getting this one out of my head, ahhh i think I’m just lil sad about it all ending :( but! we’re almost out of the woods cuties!! thank you so very much reading as always!! <3 this is the second to last chapter and idk how to feel ahhhh 

Part 7 

Pairing: self insert, female reader x seo changbin, female reader x han jisung 

Genre: strangers to lovers, fluff, smut, angst 

Tags: (of this part) college au, rapper!changbin, rapper!jisung, establishedfwb!jisung, artist!reader, skz side characters, bestfriend!chan, bestfriend!felix, roommate!minho, explicit language, some kissin’ and that good, good makin’ out, soft n’ intimate body touchinggg, mentions of getting drunk in the past, mentions of a toxic familial relationship, gahhh lots of crying and emotions in this one but it’s bc we’re figuring things out :) 

CW: dub-con-ish scene due to conflicting feelings but it gets stopped pretty quick

Word count: 7.6k 

Chapters 

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5 | PART 6 | PART 7 | PART ? 

Jisung shared his apartment with two equally messy boys. You had forgotten their names despite meeting them and seeing them around on more than one occasion. Lucky for you, they each had distinguishing features so you named them as such: tall one and younger one with white hair. Once upon a time the four of you had hung out and they weren’t unbearable, just a bit cookie-cutter as you had called it. Both of them were in the same music school as Jisung and didn’t have many other interests outside going to music shows and playing PC games while loudly shouting. 

There was never food in that apartment but somehow there was always dirty dishes in the kitchen. Sure, it smelled a bit like dirty socks, but you never paid too much attention to that when you would clambering in the door with your lips locked with Jisung’s. It was strange walking in not doing so. Tall one and younger one with the white hair sat on the couch eating pizza with feet kicked up on their banged up coffee table. They didn’t say anything as they watched you walk in, but merely rolled their eyes and pretended that you weren’t there anymore. 

“We can go to my room.” Jisung raked his hand through his greasy brown strands, then kicked aside approximately ten pairs of sneakers. He held onto your hand tightly--so tightly that his knuckles turned white. 

You nearly slipped on that rug that lined the wooden floors of their hallway. It wasn’t the first time. 

Just as the rest of the apartment was, Jisung’s room was strewn with all kinds of random articles such as dirty clothes, tangled up cords and old to-go containers. His bed was unmade; it was those navy sheets that likely hadn’t been washed in several weeks. You could never really pinpoint what they smelled like, just that they smelled like him. You had spent nights there too, but they were nothing memorable. No groggy mornings with coffee or sunlight streaked onto his features for you to admire in the golden sheen. It had been running late to class and the dozens of times that you had left jewelry and hair-ties. 

“Wanna sit down?” Jisung patted the spot next to him, and you did so. 

The two of you sat in silence, the atmosphere became thick with the tangible sense of disaster that hung around the both of you. It was catastrophic.

His trembling hand came reaching for yours, and you let him take it. He sniffled, and it triggered your eyes to fill with the same hot tears. 

For the first time, you wondered, what am I doing here? 

“You want to lay down?” His puffy eyes asked you. 

You nodded, crinkling those bedsheets that were probably full of dust. 

In all your months of knowing him, you had never, never cuddled. This was the first time and you really weren’t even tied together anymore. 

His nose had turned pink, and he rubbed a bit of snot away with his wrist. 

“Thank you for coming here.” Jisung whispered. “But--what are you doing here? I thought that you were with Changbin now?” 

I am. You thought briefly. Am I? 

“I just...so confused right now. I don’t know...there’s just...I don’t know...” 

A tear fell down Jisung’s cheek, and you couldn’t fathom why he would be the one crying when it should’ve been you. You wiped it away. You had never thought of it before, but seeing him cry brought a sting to your chest. 

Jisung leaned forward, and the bed creaked lightly, then he kissed you. It wasn’t really a passionate one, but one that he had used to say more than he could himself. His lips tasted salty running over yours, and your brain froze deciding what to do. Jisung never changed: as broken as it felt, he was still starving, needy, and rough. You tried to find meaning in it, or if it made you feel. 

It didn’t. 

Jisung held your face in his hands, and with a hesitant sigh, he said, “I really, really wanted to do that for so long.” 

As desperate he had seemed for you, you couldn’t find the same desire if you had tried. Maybe, you had to find it? 

“Kiss me again.” You hushed. 

He licked his lips with a gaze softening. “Okay.” 

This time he swung his legs around your hips and straddled you with the kind of pressure that you had craved, once upon a time. He bent down to press even more of his heated desire on your skin. He was a good kisser, and you remembered once again how you really had wanted to have him kiss you like this, once upon a time. His tongue slicked against your bottom lip and you gave him the permission, testing it out just to see. 

You had thought back then that he was unreal. 

Jisung rutted his hips down into your waist, and you had already felt how he had hardened in his sweatpants. 

You knew how it would go...or how it used to.

“Baby, I want you so bad. You have no idea. I-I don’t think that I want anyone else besides you--” He broke to meet your eyes. Your world blurred, and sobbed out from under his gaze. 

What am I doing here? 

“Baby, what’s wrong?” Worry flooded over his face. 

“I-I can’t do this, I shouldn’t do this, fuck--what the fuck am I doing?” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“Please just...get off of me. Please...” 

He did so, but still looked just as shocked. “Did I do something wrong?” 

He too started to tear up again. At last you could finally name what it was that tugged at his soft brown eyes. Fear. 

“Can you please tell me what I did wrong? Y/n, I don’t understand, you’re confusing me so much--” 

“--This isn’t right Jisung!” You nearly yelled with broken sobs. “We aren’t right.” 

Jisung’s face fell, crestfallen. “N-no--” 

“--We destroy each other!! Don’t you see?? Never have we ever been happy together, we’re just...coping! That isn’t love!!” 

“Then why the hell am I in love with you??” Jisung spat out the words, and then it was immediately evident that he had regretted saying them. 

A deadly silence fell over the room, and all that was left was the both of your weak sniffles. 

“What did you just say?” 

Jisung grabbed one the pillows then threw it down on the floor with a poof. 

“Fuck!!!” He literally shouted. His face had turned red, and snot dripped down to his lip. “I have fucking feelings for you okay?? Is that enough for you?” 

“Ji...yo-you can’t--” 

“I can’t what?! Is it a fucking crime? Listen, I’m scared out of my fucking mind saying this to you, alright? I don’t know why the hell I am but--” 

“--We-we can’t, Jisung..” 

“Can’t what?!” He threw his hands up into he air in his exasperation. “Stop fucking confusing me!!” 

“We destroy eachother.” 

Jisung grabbed another pillow to pummel to the ground, but then stopped himself, digging his fingers into the fabric until his nailbeds turned white. 

“We hurt eachother too much. An-and...I don’t think that it’s really our fault either. It’s just...who we are. I can’t give you what you want and you can’t give me what I want.” 

Jisung sobbed out horribly, then buried his face in his hands. 

“But I fell in love with you...?” His voice was terribly cracked. 

You watched as tears dropped into your lap and made little wet dots on your jeans. “I fell in love with Changbin...” 

His eyes were puffy and bloodshot, but still glistened, like the way that oil would slick in rainbows with the snow. 

“Then what are you doing here?” He asked one more time, but now he had appeared to be utterly broken. 

You rose from the bed, looking down at him and drying your face. “I...think I know why.” 

“And?” 

Outside of Jisung’s window, the view was similar to your own: city lights in an array of colors; each of them like stars on the ocean. On the wall adjacent from his bed, you noticed there was a crack. You had never realized that it was there before. 

“I’m admitting something that I should’ve a long time ago.” 

╚ ——————————————— ╝

You had likely forgotten to close a window in your apartment somewhere because the winter cold had pervaded the whole space. It took you about ten minutes to realize that it was in your bathroom from when you had taken a shower earlier to air let out the steam. 

The second thing that you noticed was the crumpled up blanket resting on the couch from before. For some odd reason, you felt the strong desire to wrap it all around yourself like you could capture some essence of him in it. Sure enough it did smell like that scent of his that you had grown so used to. You let the blanket trail behind you has you made your way to your room to pull on one of his shirts over your head. 

“Who told you that you could look so cute in that?” He had said one time. 

[23:16] Bin

me: can i call you? 

[00:18] Bin 

me: if you’re asleep, can I call you in the morning? if that’s okay? i said things that I didn’t mean...i just didn’t know it then. 

i’m so sorry 

how i treated you...you didn’t deserve that 

i understand if you’re mad at me. you have every right. 

i’m sorry that i couldn’t see that things that you were trying to show me. 

i see them now. 

You had thought that now the snow had finally faded into the edge of the winter that near it’s conclusion. Early March, and you wanting nothing more for spring buds to peep from the snow capped floral beds on street corners and for the white hugging the trees to dissapear forever. The winter had felt as if it had lasted for a year--even though this year you had seen less snow than other years. 

There had been a time when you firmly believed that once the snow melted, it would get better. Snow was a bitter memory, and it was curse that had to happen each and every year. 

The night that you had met Changbin, it had been cold. Cold like the winter that you had tried to hide from. You hadn’t thought of it until now, but he was much like the way that snowflakes melted on your skin. It reminded you of the icy coldness of the world for fleeting moments, then faded just as quickly as it arrived. The little wet mark of him warmed on your skin. 

Outside of the miniscule window to your living room, snowflakes got caught up in the edges of the frame, and sprinkled the surface of the glass in their variety of gorgeous fractals and unique shapes. A full moon was painted into the sky with a brightness that could’ve paralleled the sun on this clear night swimming in deep azure. 

You hugged the fabric of one of his shirts even closer to your frame, pretending for a moment that it was him that had been hugging you and not the cotton. 

“I’m so sorry.” You cried out weakly to the empty room. 

Your phone screen flashed with the time: [00:42]. You wondered, maybe he really had given up like he said that he would’ve. Maybe he walked home in the shivering cold, hands shoved into his pockets and decided that he was done waiting; that you weren’t worth his time and the effort. Maybe he walked in his front door, closed it behind himself, and said the words, This is it. No more. Maybe he walked into his room and cried. Maybe he didn’t. You couldn’t decide if you had wanted him to cry for you or not. Both hurt. 

[01:13.]  

Your eyes dragged with sleep, but your mind moved faster than the pace of your dry eyelids. Dust had settled on the white sheet that you had drawn over the painting in your room. On the underside of the sheet, globs of acrylic had dried and turned into multicolored flecks: a bit like the sheet was a piece of art and and of itself. It was nearly finished, and only had about one more quadrant left that was void of color. 

Your wooden pallet had been resting by the window, so it was cold to the touch--as were the little aluminum bottles of paint resting beside it. You used your shirtsleeve to dry away one tear that had battled its way to your lid, then sat back on your desk chair, facing the easel head on. 

Black first. Then deep blue, then bright yellow, burnt orange and gold. 

Hairs brushed over the canvas, and swept in wide strokes back and forth. With an empty mind, you smeared over the dark colors that faded to the edge of the canvas into the glowing light of the edge of the alleyway painted here. His figure was prominent, even though you couldn’t see his face. He wore black clothes that were simple. Frankly, you didn’t really remember what he had worn that night, but it didn’t matter much. Neon blue and red restaurant signs met on as reflection on his dark black hair. 

It was as if your chest and hand had been weighted down even further, but you fought through it to raise them. While you let the tears fall at first, they dried after long and made the skin of your cheeks tout. The room was silent, and so it was outside with the drifting snow. Soon, the painting would be finished, and you could sleep. You couldn’t sleep until then. 

if your art didn’t mean anything, what even was it? 

The pink lights lining your room provided the only light to the room, however not much else was needed than that. 

You bit your lip, now mixing yellow with red. 

If you couldn’t tell him. You hoped with every fiber that this would. 

[04:51] Bin 

me: if you’re up to it, can we talk? or, i can call you? 

goodnight  

wait its morning 

good morning then. 

╚ ——————————————— ╝

Chan was good at keeping his promises. There was not one time in your whole time in knowing him that he hadn’t kept a promise, no matter how absurd it might’ve been. He had promised you to buy you ice cream on the first day of snow, and he had promised to share his lyrics with you, no matter how much they would make him cringe. He promised that if you ever needed someone to watch your guilty pleasure reality shows with, he would be over as soon as he could. Next to Felix, you had figured a long time ago that if there were ever people in your life that you were destined to meet, he was one of them. Admittedly, there had been a time when you had harbored a crush on him, but as usual, you had been best at getting in your own way before anything could’ve happened. This, and you loved him as a friend too much. 

Too many jell-o shots were both of your enemies. Halfway into the driest seven minutes in heaven of your life, and halfway into your confession to him, he had passed out right in your arms. You were lucky that he had forgotten the event entirely. Or, he was keeping his promise that you had hurriedly made asking him to forget that it ever happened when you and Felix carted him out of there. 

While he was good at keeping promises, you more so wished that he had forgotten that one. 

Chan had promised that he would personally use his ID card to get into the soundproof booth in the music department to scream. 

You hadn’t ever taken him up on the offer until today. 

It was nearly midnight and unopened text messages still sat in in empty bubbles on your phone screen. 

Even though you had consistently texted “good morning” and “goodnight” for three days straight, the action of sending them didn’t make you feel any better. 

Chan didn’t ask any questions, but merely let you through the halls which echoed from your squeaking wet shoes. The green light of emergency signs appeared to be the only guiding lights, but Chan knew the way well. 

“Careful. The floor is slippery. They mop after everyone leaves.” He hushed in the silent hallway. 

Your fingers and lips cracked from the cold and felt tingly warming up in the dry heat of the building. The two of you turned two more corners, then Chan carefully wrapped his veiny and red hand over the handle to the door marked with “Studio Five.” He tapped his key to the reader, and it beeped with flashing green and orange lights. 

“Here. This is the entrance to the booth. I’ll enter from that door to get to the other side of the glass. You don’t...want me to go in with you?” 

“Want me to wreck your ears?” You have him a feeble smile. 

He mustered his own kind of strength that he had been keeping up just for you. “Hm. You’re right.” Your friend clicked on the light, and it burned your eyes at first compared to the black hall. “Take...all the time that you need, I’ll just be over there. If you wanna...talk about things, I’m here for that too.” 

The booth was an ugly shade of lime green, and you wondered how anyone could ever be creative in a place such as this. On the other side of the tinted glass, you watched as Chan flicked on the light, then made his way to push the button to the little intercom system. His voice buzzed with a tinny sound. 

“No one can hear you, so....go nuts.” 

The walls were too padded with black foam insulation, and for a moment you considered how strange it was, that you, had entered that place to scream--not make music like the room had been used to. Even though the walls were lime green. It still brought a sense of sadness to your chest. 

The room spun lightly behind your eyes, and you panted out frantically. 

What the hell am I doing in here? 

[23:29] bin 

me: I hope that you sleep well tonight. i’m thinking of you. 

“Is everything okay in here?” Chan’s voice said over the speakers. 

“W-what am I doing here?” You repeated the question, feeling panic rise up your throat. 

“Getting your anger out?” He tiled his head. “I-I don’t know why else because you didn’t tell me. You angry at someone? Something?” 

“N-no? --I mean, yes...I-I don’t know.” You said with uncertainty. Suddenly the foam walls of the room started to close in. “I need to get out of here.” 

“Woah! Woah! Y/n! What’s--” Chan chased you out of the room, back into the empty hallway with the squeaky floors and the green light. 

“Hey, let’s just...take a breather here for a sec.” Your friend reached out to smooth down your arms. “If you wanna talk about it, I can help maybe?” 

You tore from his gasp, then slumped against the wall to slide all the way down and sit on the cold linoleum floors with the heaters pumping steadily above your head. 

“He’s not...messaging me back, and I think that I royally fucked up this time. I think that I finally did it, I finally pushed him too far.” 

“Who? Changbin?” Chan crouched down to sit next to you. “Is that what this is about?” 

Shallow breaths filled up your lungs, “I think...I think I just lost everything that I could’ve had with him, and it’s all my fault...I’m fucking angry at myself, Chan.” 

“A-are you sure?” 

“I basically told him that I didn’t know if I wanted to be his girlfriend...after everything that’s happened, everything that he’s done and how patient he’s been...but...there was Jisung an-and...I realize that I didn’t mean it, I didn’t mean any of it, I want to be with him so fucking badly and I was just too caught up to see it and--” 

“--Stop!” Chan barked. “Stop and give yourself a second to breathe! Did you realize that you’re not doing that? 

You hadn’t. Nor had your noticed your shaking hands. However, Chan had seen them, and held them with his. 

“You said that you do want to be with him but you told him that you didn’t?” 

Somewhere in the hallway, one of the emergency floodlights blinked with a harsh white light. 

“Yes.” 

“And did you tell him that you didn’t mean it?” 

“I have but he hasn’t gotten back to me? He would always get back to me, no matter what it was--it makes me worry--” 

Chan cupped your hands then brought them to his chest where he held them earnestly. “Some things are out of our control, Y/n. And, I hate to say it but, now, I think you need to come to accept the possibility that maybe...” His gaze softened. “I’m sorry. I wish I could say something more or better but I’m not him and I can’t know...” 

You scoffed, “Is that supposed to be comforting?” 

Chan tsked, as he often would do with a little sarcastic drag to his voice. “A long time ago I promised you that I would always be honest with you, and you know that I hold to my word.

He rubbed his thumb into your hands. 

“Do you want me to say then to go running after him? Throw it all to the wind? Even if it doesn’t end up going your way?” 

“...Maybe.” You swiped a tear from the corner of your right eye. “Would it be worth it?” 

“Maybe.” He sighed. 

A silence filled the hall and the space between you two, and Chan kept holding your hand. It was a simple touch, but you hadn’t realized that you had craved something as such. 

“Y/n? Can I say something?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Even if it isn’t him that it ends up being, I think that you should know that you still deserve happiness in someone. Even after all that you’ve been through, you still do. It sounds like to me...you’re finally realizing it.” He smiled with a bit of a wrinkle to his lips. “I’m proud of you.” 

You squeezed his hand. “Thank you. Its...been a long time coming.” Your head hit the wall behind you with a slight thud. “I’ve been painting recently. And...it means something to me. I feel like I found something, like I’m seeing something for the first time in a long time and it makes me really... full. Like he does.” 

Your friend let go, then went to play with his shoe-laces. 

“If you don’t mind me asking, what was the final straw?” 

“He just...loved me different. Better than I ever could myself, and I think that it made me realize that in order for me to love him too, I had to make peace with myself, and just...” You breathed out a laugh, “...Chill the fuck out. But--I know that I can’t let go of it forever. What happened, made me. I can’t give that up, but that doesn’t mean that I should wallow in it forever. I don’t deserve that.” 

Chan leaned to give you a light slap to the arm. “Look at you.” 

“I...saw Jisung too.” 

While anger laced his voice, Chan remained level headed. “...And?” 

“Me and him just dug ourselves into a deeper hole. Even he...he could do better. He needs a “Changbin” too. You know? I can’t be that for him. I never was even close. I feel sorry. I should probably see him one last time...” 

The image of Jisung’s disparaged face burned in your memory in the midst of it all. Somehow you had forgotten that he had gotten feelings tangled it up in it all, and you had just left. Through all that you had been through with him, you couldn’t let it just go so easily. 

“There’s a lot of things that I need to make right.” You sighed out with finality. Next to you, your best friend did the same. 

“Whatever happens, Felix and I will be here for you. Like always.” 

“Mm. Thank you, Chan. Really. Thank you so much. The two of you are the best friends that I could ask for. I don’t know how you put up with me...” 

“Ahhh, don’t mention it.” He shoved his shoulder into yours playfully. “Ya know, if this goes south, we could just date.” 

“What?!” Your head whipped over to him so hard it hurt. 

“As I recall, about a year ago all it took were some jell-o shots...” 

You smacked him upside the head, causing him to burst out laughing in that empty hall. 

“I told you to forget about that!!” 

“I’m just joking!! Jeez! Can you take a joke!?” 

You laughed with him, your goofy and kindhearted best friend. You realized it hadn’t happened in quite some time. 

“Yeah Changbin is alright, but me and Felix are forever. Got it?” He teased, and you slumped your head on his shoulder. 

“I know.” 

In your pants pocket, your phone vibrated and flashed with a white light. 

[01:36] L. Minho 

minho: i fucking hate that i’m in this position 

but 

bin’s in a bad way and i’m fairly certain that he hasn’t told you about it all 

idiot. 

anyway, his parents are being shitty assholes and i think that he really needs you right now, even if he isn’t saying anything about it. actually i know that he does. 

i also wanna ask you to kindly resolve whatever shit that you have going on before you walk in our door. out of kindness for both yourself and him. 

sorry not sorry. i really do love the both of you and it hurts me to see it be like this. 

i suggest that you come over as soon as you can. 

Your heart beat its way into your throat with a million emotions, but out of them all, fear for Changbin ached the most. 

 “Chan, I have to go.” 

╚ ——————————————— ╝

It was likely Minho who had buzzed you in. 

Luckily, the night had somehow gotten warmer--at least warm enough to where you couldn’t see your breath in front of your face any more. Unfortunately though, you had still worn the shoes that Changbin would scold you for wearing on snow-packed nights. Luckily, the snow had started melted too. 

The door clicked when it unlocked, and you slid inside the glass entrance that was smudged with fingerprints and the wet from dog’s noses pressing on the surface. 

For a reason unknown to you, you decided to take the stairs--even though he had lived on the seventh floor. Partially you had decided that you had done so because it meant that you had more time with your thoughts; more time to decide if you really had resolved all the shit that you needed to leave on the outside of his doorstop. 

You thought back to the painting sitting finished in your room. It waited in all of it’s beauty for the sun to shine on it and the rest of the world to see it. For him to see it. It was for him that you had painted it in the first place. Every ounce of pain and confusion was lathered across the canvas, it was bare for anyone to see after you had kept it concealed for so long. 

He would see it. 

You took each step slow and carefully, and listened to the way that the sound bounced off of the walls and how the carpet matted on each stoop.

Chan had said, “Even after all that you’ve been through, you still do.” 

Minho opened the door after three clicks wearing a bathrobe and slippers. For being so distressed like his message had said, he looked perfectly cozy. You remembered that Minho really was one to keep it all together when shit would get intense. Somehow he had the ability to write whole papers over the course of one day and had passed tests after studying for only four hours. You wished you could manage as well as he could. 

“Fuck. It’s late.” He rubbed his eyes. “Come in. Take off your shoes please.” 

You did so, and rubbed your toes into their carpet. It was almost as if you were waiting further instructions, but you knew full well what you had to do. 

Minho glared at you expectantly. “Well? Shits left outside?” 

“Shits left outside.” You repeated with a nod. 

“l’ll let him explain. It isn’t really my place. Just--listen to him okay? I think that’s what he needs right now.” 

The apartment itself was a bit barren, the only things that were placed in the small space were the things that the inhabitants needed: a dining table, a leather couch, a TV set, a few beanbags and a kitchen kept clean by Minho. It was strange seeing a place so organized and...neat. It was as if this apartment was from an other side of the world compared to what you had grown used to previously. Changbin’s thick and dark black coat hung on one of the dining chairs, the same that he had worn the night that he had last seen you. You wondered if it had been sitting there these past few days. 

“Go on.” Minho flapped his hands to usher you down the hallway to Changbin’s room. At the end of the hallway was the bathroom, and seeing it flooded your skin with the feeling of warm water and defrosting skin, lips on lips with heated desire; tracing fingertips that got caught with the translucent stream of water as they brushed down spines and hips. If you could’ve gone back to then and done it all over...you wondered if you would’ve. 

“Knock first.” Minho mouthed. 

You did, breath hitching when it opened slightly, and you called out his name. “Bin? Its me. Can I...can I come in?” 

His hesitant voice called back to you, “Yes.” 

He was a crumble on his bed, black socks twisted up with his dark bedsheets and his hoodie riding up his back to expose a sliver of skin where he laid facing away from the door. His beautiful dark hair was knotted. 

“B-Bin? A-are you okay?” You advanced forward carefully, reaching out to touch his arm. You had never seen this confident and headstrong man reduced to something so small, it broke your heart into shards to see him as such. You didn’t know what to do with yourself: sit with him? Stand? Crawl in to bed next to him? Unspoken words filled the air, and he sniffed out loudly into it. 

“Thank you for messaging me still.” Was what he had said first. “I saw them a little bit ago. I was...too scared to open them at first...your messages. I was...ashamed to...” 

“--Bin,” You took two steps closer. “You don’t have to explain yourself.” 

He sniffed in with a clogged nose once more. “I’m sorry.” 

Two more steps. “No, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry that I didn’t listen to you, and took all of your patience with me for granted. I really don’t deserve it. I tore you up, and that was awful of me. You somehow ended up being collateral damage to me figuring my shit out and I can’t say I’m sorry enough. I understand if you don’t want to keep this going that we--” 

“--Can you get into bed with me?” He suddenly interjected. Changbin twisted his hand back as if he knew that yours was there in some superhuman way, and grabbed at it. “It’s...cold.” 

Your heart paused, uncertain if you had heard him correctly. 

“Please?” Changbin muttered. “Two bodies is warmer than one.” 

Silently, you crossed the room and shimmied off your coat so it fell to the floor. It had been partially absentminded, but you had pulled on one of his shirts that day. It was light grey, and had nearly lost all semblance of his scent on it. You pulled the covers over both of you, peering just enough to see his puffed and red eyes and red wet nose. Seeing him like this, you had to fight every instinct to pull him into your arms, but rather keep a respectful distance. 

From seeing the way that he dominated the stage to how he looked under the soft glow of your pink lights, to how he had looked as thin and as fragile as glass now, it had all finally made sense to you. As brash and forthcoming as he was, it wasn’t all of who he was in the slightest. If anything, it was who he had pretended to be. 

Tears fell over his pink lips. “I didn’t tell you because...I was embarrassed. Fuck,” He laughed a little, “It’s so fucking pathetic. I’m so pathetic for getting so messed up over this all. I-I shouldn’t. That and...it’s not something that you should--”

“--Don’t you dare say that I shouldn’t worry about this Bin. How many times do you need me to say it?” You traced his dark hair over his ear. “What happened to being each other’s problems?” 

He smiled with a weak grin, then wiped his eyes with his sleeve. “Minho didn’t tell you?” 

You shook your head. “He said that you should be the one to.” 

Changbin sighed out, then pulled the comforter up to his nose, adjusting himself to meet your eyes with his that were strained with pink. 

“They’re disowning me. For real this time. They asked me to do a legal name change and everything...as if...they’re cutting me out of the family line. Fuck, I mean, they basically are.” 

His chest shook with an inhale, and a thick and burning mucus felt as if it had clung to your throat. It was anger and rage, the kind that was so foreign to you, it even started you to feel such a thing. 

“Bin, I’m so sorry. They’re...they’re fucking less than human is what they are. Treating you their own son like this...like they think that they can reverse time so that you were never even born of them...” Under the sheets your knuckles clenched so hard it bit the skin of your palms. “I-I’m sorry too...that you were going through this by yourself--” 

In one single motion he had spread out his arms to circle them around your upper body and pull it into hm. 

There he was again. Rosemary and cedarwood. 

You were in shock, but feeling the warmth from his body on yours made you shiver--it was the contact that you had craved so intensely now that you had it, it was so all encompassing that your brain scrambled feeling it. 

“Thank you for coming.” He whispered to the top of your head. 

Your hands snaked around his body, and you held him back. 

In that very moment, you had decided that you would spend the rest of your life holding him back if he would let you. If there was someone out there listening to your thoughts, you prayed that they would let you hold him. 

Changbin patted to top of your head with a trembling hand.

“What the fuck do I do?” 

Your fingers tugged at the thick cotton of his hoodie. 

“They said that either I meet with them to sign away my name, or I pack up, and go back with them as if nothing happened. They said that they were willing to “forgive” everything that I had “done” if I chose to come back home with them, so to school, and forget everything that I’ve ever written, performed...” 

“They said that??” 

The young man remained silent, but instead nuzzled further into you. 

“They said that they could arrange for a meeting with their legal team to finalize it in as little as two days if I decide to do it. Those assholes expedited the whole process and called up their lawyers to make it happen as quick as possible...” 

“Bin...” You cooed, and smoothed up and down his back. Being close to him like this you could nearly feel his own heart breaking in his chest against yours. 

“Do I forget everything that I was to chase this...dream? Or do I go back, get their support, live a normal life...” 

“--Stop.” You gently pushed his hand away to look up at him. “This, all of this is your life Changbin. It’s what you’ve worked hard for relentlessly and it’s what makes you happy, isn’t it? Yeah, it’s harder to do, but you’ve gotten so far, people love you! You’ve made a name for yourself, people want to hear your music--” 

“--Yeah, my names gotten itself out there a little too well for my parent’s opinions.” 

You wiped a tear cascading from one of his exhausted eyes. “They should be proud of you, not trying to suppress you.”  

“They...don’t want me to be Changbin any more. Do you know how that feels? I’ve lived my whole life being me and now they just want to take away the very last thing that I have that they didn’t touch?” He stifled a sob. 

“Hey! Just because you change it on paper, doesn’t mean we have to call you that!” You laughed out gently, “If you want to get a driver’s license or something it might be important...but, you’re always going to be Changbin to me, and Minho and everyone else who knows you. A name is just a word. You make up who you really are.” 

Changbin laughed out, then returned his hand to pat at your head. 

“Who told you to say that?” 

You chuckled back at the way that he had turned your words back on you. “No one.” 

“I’m just me, but...” Under the covers, your legs intertwined. “I think that if we compare a life of missed oppurtunties to a life where you leave a couple things behind, its worth leaving.” 

Body heat swirled between the two of you, and it was as calming as a song. Changbin brought his hand down to caress the side of your cheek with as much gentleness one would with those fragile snowflakes. 

Past his shoulder, your eye caught a small piece of paper that had been pasted to the wall above his desk: right in a space where he could see it if he had sat at his desktop. It was crinkled and held several creases and the lead that had been used to draw on it had smudged as if it had rubbed up against itself. 

It was a picture of a bench, some Christmas lights, and the city skyline behind it.

Tears flooded your eyes, and then fell freely onto his his fingers where he held your face. They caught in the corners of your mouth, and heated up your eyes. 

“Woah, hey, what is it?” Changbin rubbed away the wet and pulled you even closer to him. 

“Y-you kept it?” Your voice wavered. 

“Kept what?” 

You pointed a shaking finger to your drawing posted on the wall, and his eyes widened at first like he was embarrassed, then he slowly faded into something much softer. 

He nearly whispered the words, “Of course.” 

“W-why?” 

“It reminded me of you and that night. I think that I realized something then.” 

“What’s that?” He wiped your tears once more, stretching the skin of your face as he did so. 

“I realized that, well...I’m in over my head here.” He laughed out lightly. “Do you need me to say it again? I love you a fuck ton, alright? Getting over things, and healing from things...it’s not easy. You...don’t have to apologize for the mess of things and what it did to you. It’s not your fault.” 

You threw your head into the crook of his neck to sob openly. But I hurt you. I made you wait...I-I don’t wait you to wait any longer.” 

“And I made you wait too. My stupid...my parents fucked me up too, and I couldn’t get over the fact that this fucking mess that they made of me put a wedge between me and you. I didn’t feel like you deserved...I’m a mess too. A fucking nervous, cocky bastard at times and I don’t know how to talk about it. Isn’t that pathetic?” 

“What?? No--” 

“You wanna call it even then?” He grinned out, and it was his sly little smile that you had found yourself thinking of after you had seen it for the first time those months ago. 

“I--” 

“Damn. It does feel kinda good to talk about things.” He joked. 

You cried out his name even harsher, then melted into his whole body. He was boundless in the way that he had understood you, and how he had looked you without condition or pause. 

You don’t have to be scared any more. 

With your face muffled in the fabric of his shirt, you let the words fly of your tongue with reckless abandon, and it felt as if you had finally been rid of the crushing shroud fogging your mind, and chaining your heart. 

“I-I want you to be...my Changbin. An-and I want to be--” 

“--Wait!” Changbin pulled you back by the shoulders with a new and wild smile on his face that only grew wider by the second. A type of excited panic flamed in his chocolate brown eyes. “Willyoubemygirlfriend???” He said at light speed. 

You were confused as to why he had said it as such, but you nodded, finally feeling the sense of respite that you had searched so hard for. “Y-yes?” 

Changbin startled you with his sudden crack of laughter, then squeezed you so tight that it became hard to breathe. Once he let go looser, he bowed in deep to press dozens of kisses on your mouth and around it. Most of them missed the mark, but that didn’t matter to him. He only stopped for a couple moments to mutter the words, “I wanted to say it first.” You would’ve laughed had he not been attacking you incessantly with more and more pecks that you struggled to keep up with. 

“I-I’m sorry again that I made you wait--” 

Changbin rolled his weight over to lean carefully over your body tangled up in the sheets, then kissed away at your lips with “don’t say that’s “ quietly. “Thank you for trusting me.” He said quickly, then returned, pouring out oceans of admiration onto your lips until they felt a little raw. You kissed him back too, and you kissed him like you wanted to spend your whole life holding him back. His blissful little “oh’s” tickled at your lips, and you giggled at the way that they vibrated. 

Once you had properly kissed nearly all of the air out of each other’s lungs, you laid back, gasping, and each still a bit bewildered. 

“Thank you for trusting me too.” You turned your head to look at him where he lay with quickened breaths quaking his chest. 

“When I go through with this name thing, can you...be there?” 

“Yes.” 

“Thank you.” He said, barely loud enough for you to hear. His strong hands fell down his shirt which you wore; down to the small of your back where he snuck up the fabric. His fingers tickled at your tiny hairs there. 

“I have one more loose end to tie myself. One more place that I need to make peace.” 

Changbin nodded. “Mm. We’ll get through it together.” 

To your surprise, Changbin then took to pulling his sweater over his head, revealing his bare chest, then pulled off his pants from his legs a bit awkwardly under the covers. 

“W-what are you doing?” 

He giggled, then pulled at the hem of your shirt for you to do the same. 

“Trust me.” He whispered. 

You held his eyes as you did, and your bare skin too met the crinkling edges of the sheets which were a bit colder than you had expected. Changbin watched as you did so with a prideful little grin. 

“I-I’m confused.” You hugged your arms over your cold torso. 

“You’re so gorgeous.” He merely muttered, uncrossing your arms for him to look at you fully, then pulled you by the under sides of your chin back to his lips. He pulled gently at your bottom lip with his teeth. “Clothes were getting in the way.” He hushed, then set to unhooking your bra behind your back. 

“Getting in the way of what?” 

“Me being as close to you as I possibly can.” 

While he had said the phrase calmly, it still sent heat rising straight to your cheeks. 

“I want to hold my love like this for as long as she’ll let me. Can I?” 

Your two bodies met in the middle, flush, buzzing with a kind of giddy energy that only heightened the more curious that your hands got eating up each other’s presence. 

“As long as you’ll let me do the same.” 

You couldn’t quite tell, but it had almost felt as if Changbin had scribbled little invisible messages into the skin of your back. 

“Isn’t it obvious?” He answered. 

You took his wrist to kiss at the line of a scar that lived there. Naturally, Changbin blushed rosy from the action--then promptly pretended that he just hadn’t. 

~🌹~

Bunch of (Ro)ses! 

@minaamhh @dazzlehoseok @synnocence @jjewibeans @hyunsluvv @unexceptional-h @bobawithchaitea @lechanters @sailorhyunjinz @silencefavarchive @eunaeiekim @lunarskzzz

[aerialflight]

Fic Rec (where i'm into too many fandoms rn and ships which is weird of me)

[Bleach] (been a while amiright?)

Oxytocin by Asuka Kureru (Askerian)

Ship: Grimmjow/Ichigo/Orihime

Complete trust and physical affection are great!

They're a bit less great when they were caused by weird hollow drugs.

They're even less great when the guy who was drugged up into loving the hell out of you is the same guy who tried to murder you a couple times a couple years ago.

(listen i just stumbled upon this and I have no regrets. i don't usually go for ships, let alone poly, but like, GOD, i love how everyone is characterized here, especially orihime and i just want to SCREAM OK? OK. the vibe i get from this fic reminds me of @murderlight (big fan) and if that doesn't say anything, i don't know what will.)

-

[Gintama] (i don't know how i spiralled into this fandom either, been literal years since i've even thought about this fandom, i have no regrets)

Grab Your Dreams With Your Fists While You Can Still Remember It by yatagarasu (leelhiette)

Ship: Hijikata Toshirou/Sakata Gintoki

Toshirou should learn to look both ways before crossing the road.

(Or he learns more about the people around him and about himself.)

(amnesia fic, and i know it's a common trope but they did it BEAUTIFULLY here. love this so much. and it's post-canon.)

I feel you by arashian155 for machinecuisine

Ship: Hijikata Toshirou/Sakata Gintoki

“I’m so done with this,” Gintoki muttered angrily. Zura sighed while Tatsuma laughed loudly. “Your soulmate’s getting roughed up again?” Gintoki groaned. “Worst timing ever! There was this one Amanto swinging his gigantic sword at me and I was just about to dodge it when, out of fucking nowhere, I feel something stabbing my shoulder! It threw me off and if it weren’t for that, I would have been perfectly healthy right now instead of getting nursed for this stupid wound!” he pointed at the ugly slash across his torso. “Fuck soulmates!”

A story about Sakata Gintoki's journey into embracing his soulbond, falling in love, and learning the cons of selflessness.

(THE SLOW BUILD-UP OF THEIR RELATIONSHIP AND THE PLOT FOLLOWS CANON AND I CAN'T STOP TALKING ABOUT THIS STUPID FIC I'M SO STUPID FOR THIS STUPID SHIP FEIWNFOPA)

-

[One Piece] (of course)

Undone by pkmntrainer_alex

After the entire family almost dies at WCI, Judge Vinsmoke orders the removal of his sons' emotional modifications in a bid to save his own skin in future endeavors. He doesn't stop to consider the ramifications of his 21-year-old sons finally, suddenly, being able to feel their human emotions in full - and their newfound ability to judge both themselves and him by their past actions.

(the vinsmoke family dynamics and the brothers trying to deal with 21 years of pent up emotions? they're trying?? so freaking hard to be functional people and they realize just how freaking amazing sanji is and that HE wasn't the failure in this family??? god, i've reread this fic so many times like an addict please read and suffer the feels with me. this is the one fic where i'm trying to patiently wait for an update. i'm just happy that this exists.)

Song of the Swords by authenticaussie

Wado is tiny when she first appears before him; her tears are as silver as her hair and the moonlight, and they gleam from within with golden fire as they pour down her cheeks.

Zoro’s heart fairly stops in his chest for a very, very long moment.

(personified swords au! introspective and fascinating and a character study of zoro and his relationship with his swords! really liked this!)

where the rims have ridges by Civillain

Everything everyone does is in their own self-interest.

"I like your hat," she calls out quietly.

And the change is instantaneous. He stops where he stands, a hand on his head and his knees still bent to take another step, and turns to look over his shoulder.

There's a moment of silence where he says nothing, just peering at her with squinted eyes, before: "Thanks!" he beams.

His smile is wide and unchecked, so wide that it might make his cheeks ache. He doesn't have laugh lines, but the way he smiles makes her imagine that he's spent his whole life grinning like that, warmly and brightly, so sincere and upfront that the breath gets punched right out her lungs.

Sometimes, there are people close to exceptions. But not quite.

20 years apart, and two people that don't make any sense.

(god, such a good outside pov look on luffy! luffy is such an unreadable character lots of times and it's so hard to pin down his characterization but this fic got it so right! made me fall for luffy all over again and realize just how incredible he is, as both a not-hero figure and main character! definitely recommend!)

those things beyond us by Civillain

There's something different about Luffy on nights like this, nights where there's soft rain and half-moons, and when the streets are quiet; no cars or trucks, only midnight joggers or early risers taking walks to the beach.

(Where Luffy and his friends have a relationship Sabo doesn't think he'll ever be able to understand.)

(honestly, i just love all of this author's one piece works. its a modern au where the straw hats are reincarnated and find each other all in sabo's pov. it's beautiful and this is how i would picture how the straw hats would fit in a modern au. nakamaship is the best ship, no questions needed. so so good!)

Magic Paint by 8ball

Luffy sticks his hands out.

“Paint mine!”

Usopp watches the expressions on Sanji’s face. He likes watching the obvious emotions go through him like a slideshow, and it's somehow comforting that he can see the exact moment Sanji decides that going along with Luffy will be the easiest choice. So Usopp waits for Sanji to test his own nails, deem them dry enough, unscrew the tiny brush top again, and then he asks if Sanji will do his, too. And because Sanji already has the brush ready, and they’re both right there anyways, Usopp knows he’s going to get what he wants.

or the au that came from nowhere where Sanji paints his nails and everyone elses and thats really it

(*screams* the pureness, the fluff, the nakamaship!! fneiwoapfe!! the best, sweetest headcanon ever! had the biggest grin on my face the whole time i was reading this! please please read!!!)

-

[Percy Jackson & the Olympians]

Stealing Shells by the Seashore by CaffeinatedFlumadiddle

Ship: Sally Jackson/Posiedon

Sally's eyes flicked between Poseidon and then the sea below. He could feel the understanding click.

"Oh, absolutely not-"

"It isn't that high!"

"Poseidon, I am not jumping off of this cliff! I'm not doing it. I won't, you can't make me, it's very high, I am not going to-"

"If my brother sees you here, he's going to assume that you're carrying my child."

"Ridiculous. I have much higher standards."

"I also have higher standards, but he isn't going to listen to us," Poseidon reasoned. The wind blew a bit harder, and Poseidon felt the sea rise with his anxiety. "I would use my powers to hide you, but he'll sense I've used them. You'll be fine," he tried, and Sally gave something of a skeptical laugh.

"Not happening."

The lightning grew closer. For the love of-

"In that case… I'm sorry," he said. Sally tilted her head suspiciously.

"Why are you-" she began but was cut off by Poseidon shoving her off the cliff's edge. He could hear a scream. It started loud and high before getting smaller and smaller. Finally, a splash followed.

Or

Sally and Poseidon spent one summer together… and most of it was them being on the run for a godly crime they didn't commit.

(THIS is the ONLY backstory i will ever accept regarding this ship for the REST OF MY LIFE. i binged this so freaking fast and i am in love with sally as much as posiedon is. percy jackson got his Everything from his mom you can't change my fucking mind. THIS FIC NEEDS MORE ATTENTION AND KUDOS! READ!!!)

Son of Sea Foam by CaffeinatedFlumadiddle

“She’ll never claim me,” he whispered. Silena shook her head, eyes wild as she looked around for anyone who could be watching.

“My mother doesn’t remember half of her children as it is,” she said with a note of bitterness. “If you do something to impress her, it won’t matter. Return the bolt in her name. She’ll claim you if you act the part. If you stay unclaimed then they'll figure out what you really are," she said, squeezing his hands tightly. Percy's heart sped up.

"I - I don't know the first thing about Aphrodite-"

"My mother was born of sea foam," Silena cut him off. "And if you're really who I think you are... you are the sea. You can pull this off," she said and touched his cheek. "Get the bolt. Survive," she said. Percy swallowed.

"What if I can't act the part?" He asked. Silena's expression went blank for a moment. Slowly, she slipped off her bracelet and placed it in his hands.

"If you're going to be one of us... you better learn."

Or

AU where Percy has to hide the fact he's a Big Three kid otherwise he'll be killed on the spot. Unfortunately for him, unclaimed kids tend to raise the most suspicion... but he might have found a loophole in the form Aphrodite.

(one of my current obsessions rn. my eyes are constantly glued on the screen because i want to devour more of this galaxy brained fic. this author just keeps on giving and i love them for it. also, SILENA IS AMAZING AND SHE'S GETTING THE ATTENTION SHE DESERVES HELL YEAH!)

-

[Haikyuu!!]

He Waits For a Miracle by ich_bin_ein_stern

Ship: Hinata/Kageyama

A minute ago, he was on the ground after he and the others were tackled by their happily weeping senpai.

They had just beat Shiratorizawa.

And now - "Kageyama-kun? Are you paying attention?" - he's trying not to freak out because he's surrounded by distantly familiar faces while wearing a school uniform he hasn't worn in almost a year.

(TIME TRAVEL TIME TRAVEL TIME TRAVEL *screams*)

-

[The Witcher] (seriously, all my rare fandoms somehow popped up this month)

the way fire holds by theundiagnosable

Ship: Geralt/Yennefer/Jaskier

“There’s a song there, somewhere, don’t you think?” Jaskier says. “‘A witcher, a sorcerer, and a human walk into a bar’…”

(ROLE REVERSAL FIC HECK YES!! Witcher!Yennefer, Mage!Jaskier, Human!Geralt is amazing omg. It all works out so damn well and the relationship between yennefer and jaskier makes me want to cry so much. Geralt is at peak himbo greatness and it's fantastic haha! Their dynamics are just *chefs kiss* so damn good.)

The Shape of You by lirulin

Ship: Geralt/Jaskier

Some people say it's old elven magic, a remnant from before the conjunction of the spheres. Other's will say it's the last fading vestiges of chaos as the modern era slowly drives all magic and wonder out of the world. Those people are, naturally, real killjoys whom Jaskier cannot envision loving anything, but that's fine. To each their own.

Soulmate Spiritual Animal AU

(you have no idea how much i laughed when reading this fic. no idea. jaskier makes me want to scream with how much of a himbo he is and geralt, for once, is not the complete idiot between these two though it's a close call, not gonna lie.)

to grow in adversity by Soulykins

Ship: Geralt/Jaskier, Renfri & Jaskier

“For you!” Julian cried, shoving a fistful of weeds in Renfri’s direction, his smile wide and carefree. Renfri carefully took them in her hands that were only shaking a little bit now, smearing red onto green stems and yellow petals.

Julian clambered into the bed beside her and crawled halfway onto her lap. “I got you flowers, ‘cause you’re so pretty like them!”

“These aren’t flowers, they’re weeds.” Renfri told him, rolling her eyes but allowing the contact with ease. Somedays it seemed like Julian was the only person in the entire castle who wasn’t afraid of her.

“They look like flowers.” He said, crinkling his nose.

“They’re dandelions,” Renfri informed her brother with a tiny smile, “They grow everywhere, even places they perhaps shouldn’t. That’s why they’re a weed.”

“Perhaps they’re a little like you,” She teased, “Growing in even the scariest of places with no fear.” Like a monster’s heart, she doesn’t say.

“Like a superpower!” Julian gasped.

Renfri separated one dandelion from the little clutch and reached out to tuck it behind a little ear. “For the stubborn hero, Jaskier.”

(this is THE fic that got me into the witcher fandom and i can't believe i never reced this before. renfri & jaskier's siblingship is so damn good and just, the amount of effort put into their backstory and relationship makes me want to cry sometimes. and yennefer, ohoho, yennefer is at her Best here, i love her in this fic and her relationship with these siblings! geralt both makes me want to punch him and hug him, which is the norm and totally understandable hahaha! seriously, one of the best witcher fics i've ever read, please please read!)

-

[Boku no Hero Academia]

Where your love has always been enough (for me) by classicequinox

Ship: Todorki Enji/Todorki Rei

It's a dark coil of anger deep in the pit of his stomach, reminding him that he was the root, the catalyst, the trigger for their family's downward spiral. It did happen - he reminds himself harshly. He can't forget that, even if time has actually reset itself.

Todoroki Enji gets a second chance. It's up to him to see what he can do with it.

(genuinely the most believable enji i've seen regarding how he deals with his past actions and trying to be better and rei being a complicated, good person who i can see matches well with enji. really well done characterization and slow building relationship that is believable to me. enji trying to change things in a meaningful, careful manner makes me want to root for him!)

Katsuki Bakugou Makes A Friend (And Also Almost Dies, But Whatever) by Sif (Rosae)

Katsuki Bakugou is eight years old, he has no idea how he got here, where he is, or who this other kid is with him, but that's not gonna stop him from being brave and tough, just like the hero he's gonna be when he's older!

The universe has other ideas, but Katsuki Bakugou is a child made of spite, hubris, determination, and way too much nitroglycerin, so the universe can take it's ideas and shove 'em. After all, nobody out-stubborns Katsuki. Nobody.

(KID BAKUGOU & KID SHIGARAKI FRIENDSHIP! BAKUGOU STOLE MY HEART! SO SMART, SUCH A HERO! I LAUGHED AND CRIED THROUGHOUT THIS FIC, MY HEART CAN'T TAKE THIS! LITTLE SHIGARAKI MAKES A FRIEND AND IT'S TOO CUTE!!! so freaking adorable, oh lord. fneiwofpweafe)

Play The Field by lalazee for Banna_Banana

Ship: Bakugou/Midoriya

Baseball and feelings, feelings and baseball. Turns out, Bakugou and Deku are both good and bad at the same things. They try to work on it.

(look, i don't even know man. i stumbled upon this baseball au fic and the characterization is so top notch!! the backstories and feelings you get from this matches bakugou and deku's canon relationship perfectly and i flew past this so fast, god. please give this a chance, it's fantastic!)

-

[Marvel]

Blips on the Record by ambivalentangst for Bean_reads_fanfic

Flash, let it be known, doesn’t like Peter. He’s too good at everything—infuriatingly so—and nobody ever calls him on his bullshit, like with AcaDec nationals. Flash has to put his all into everything he does for a fraction of the attention Peter gets for his bare minimum, and it pisses him off, to say the least, so sue him for looking for chances here and there to knock him down a peg.

However, when he notices, he shuts his entire operation down.

Maybe Peter has a decade on his age when he was in the thick of it, but Flash remembers what it was like. He gets having school be a safe place, and nobody, not even himself, is going to jeopardize that for Peter.

//

Flash Thompson���s story is not simple, Peter Parker can always use someone else in his corner, and secrets are had and protected by all.

(flash is fleshed out! flash is getting some Good Rep! flash doing his best and being grumpy but ultimately trying to help peter in what ways he could! flash being a complex character and making me love him all over again! flash! getting some actual freaking attention fewnifoapew! THANK YOU! seriously, if you're looking for an actual good flash fic that doesn't feel disingenuous, read this!)

people were mean to you, but I always thought you were cool by suzukiblu for beckyh2112

Fandoms: Avengers & X-men

“What are your feelings on the mutant threat?!” one of the reporters shouts, and Steve just looks at him.

“I think anyone threatening mutants should be stopped,” he says calmly, and the swarm of reporters explodes, a dozen camera flashes going off at once.

(not exaggerating when i say i've reread this fic so many times that it's honestly concerning. steve & cyclop's friendship here makes me so soft?? they're both leaders of their teams and steve not being what everyone expects of him is always a soft spot for me. will forever be addicted to this fic, please enjoy!)

#notmycap by missgoalie75

Fandom: The Falcon and the Winter Soldier

In which Bucky fully embraces the 21st century and is a salty bitch on Twitter.

(nonono, you don't understand. you don't understand how much i howled and screamed in public while reading this, oh my GOD. honestly the funniest shit i've read in a VERY long time, bucky is Perfect here. fucking drag that guy you beautiful cranky soul. X'D)

[sevensided]

how did you get into writing fic? i'd love to start but idk even where to begin! I loved adats so I was wondering do you have any advice?

Oh my goodness! I am so flattered you’ve asked me this. Yes, I can absolutely help. I’ll throw a bunch of rambling under the cut.

I started writing fic probably when I was... sixteen years old? A lot of my early works were oneshots. I couldn’t figure out how to do anything plot heavy for the life of me, so I just stuck to AUs or whatever I felt like. I wasn’t in any particular fandom -- I really wrote whatever I had ideas for. I remember I tried once to do a plot-heavy story and I received a review absolutely ripping it to shreds. Like, it was so cruel I cried lol. I ended up deleting the fic. Years later, I get what they were trying to say (basically, more substance, less style), but at the time it cut to the quick. Really, it was only when I was in my twenties that I started writing work that was longer and/or better.

The fandom that helped me actually write plot heavy work was a historical-based fandom. As I’m a historian, it was perfect. I got to use my research skills and knowledge to create works that, above all, aimed to feel authentic. I mainly read historical fiction, so I was familiar with how that genre worked. Miraculously, people loved my work. I think I wrote about ~200k in the period of a year? These were several short stories (20-40k) and a few oneshot filler fics. While I was part of this fandom I also helped organise a Big Bang which was a lot of hard work but was extremely rewarding. Along with that, I interacted mainly with other fic writers, so I spent a lot of time chatting to people about ideas and encouraging other writers, and it just created a lovely medley where no concept was impossible or any line of dialogue too difficult. We supported each other and it was truly like a little commune. I gradually stepped away from the fandom mainly because it was just a part of my life at a very specific time, and almost as soon as that time was over, my love for that story/ship faded, but I firmly believe I figured out a lot of how/what I do now purely through that experience.

Regarding ADATS

With ADATS, it stemmed entirely from wanting to “explain” three months in canon (at the end of season three). I was interested in the idea of season four setting up Will/Mike in canon, and I wanted to test the source material to see if I could draw from what already existed to create something authentic. I began with that simple idea: what happened from July to October in 1985? Then I thought about the major themes I wanted to hit -- family, friendship, coming of age, sexuality -- and I nested them around the bigger concept: how do I get Mike from being ostensibly straight to realising he is gay? That meant thinking of two steps: Mike discovering his attraction to guys; Mike discovering his attraction to Will. Those two concepts were separate “arcs” that needed addressing in different ways. Balance was key to weaving them together and making the reader feel like they knew what was coming (and that they felt smart for putting the pieces together) without just rushing through and going “now kiss!” That’s partly why ADATS needs a sequel, lol: because it’s not finished!

Writing process

The first thing I do when I start to get an idea is I write it down. Sounds obvious. But when you have a killer line of dialogue come to you in the shower and you think “I’ll remember that” -- reader, you will not remember it. You gotta get it down ASAP! I do that the whole way through, as generally I’ll be thinking of scenes I’m stuck on and then it’ll just come to me and I’ll quickly jot it down.

The next thing -- or what I do in the meantime -- is start structuring. I plan. I try to plan a lot. Sometimes it’s okay to write “and something happens here to get them here”, because you’ll figure it out later, but for the most part I’ve discovered that planning is like gold and you can’t get enough of it. I break my work up into generally 3-4 parts/sections, and I treat each section like a mini story. So each part needs a conflict and resolution, and it needs to flow into the next section. You need to have a feeling of things evolving and maturing. Once I’ve planned those little bits, I start thinking about the bigger plot arc and how I can drop in hints along the way. I’m probably not a subtle or skilled enough writer to yet pull off that sort of gasping twist you get in really excellent books, but I’m trying to get there. It’s hard, is what I’m trying to say, but that’s okay, because we’re all learning.

Then I generally do aesthetic stuff. Sounds stupid, probably. But nothing helps me get more into a mood than doing a Pinterest board or -- most of all -- making a Spotify mix. I start thinking about the vibe and the general atmosphere, and then I almost exclusively listen to that mix when I’m working. Sort of like muscle memory? Just to get the creative juices associated with that particular selection of songs.

Another thing I’ll do along with plot structure is character structure. This is a biggie. I mean, a story is nothing without characters. So I’ll just jot down a bunch of bullet points of characters and particular aspects that I want to highlight or remember. I hate continuity errors in fiction. Like, if someone says they work on Maple Street but later in the fic they’re working on Pine Street. I hate that. So I keep note of specific things that my main character might notice at repeated points in the story (colours, places, smells, names, sounds -- so they’re all consistent even as the narrative evolves). That’s another thing -- your characters’ motivations. Not everyone is going to be a huge player, but they all do serve a purpose. The most important character is obviously your main character. I personally think it’s important to let your M.C. be an arse at times. They’re going to be mean, they’re going to misinterpret things or fly off the handle... just let ‘em. Let them be wretched humans, and then bring them back and make them realise what they’ve done. Let them learn! I love consequences in fiction, lol.

At the same time, I’ll probably start writing. We’ve already written down some snippets of neat dialogue or descriptions, but now we should start the actual process. For me, I used to start at the beginning. Usually this was the most fleshed out anyway: I’ll have a clear idea of the beginning and the end, but nothing in the middle. These days, if I have a scene in mind that I can’t forget, I’ll just write it. It will possibly get scrapped or rewritten, but that’s okay, because at least you’ve got it down and now you can devote your brain power to something useful (like figuring out what the middle is supposed to be). I’ll have half a dozen of totally out of context scenes just littered in my Word document that I’ll add to as I go along. Eventually, though, you’re going to start writing properly, and that’s when you write your opening scene.

Opening scenes: super important. Every time I write a scene I think: what is the point of this? What do I want the reader to learn or takeaway? Sometimes you do have filler scenes, but they also serve a different purpose (perhaps to establish a group dynamic or to explore/describe a character’s surroundings). Mainly, though, every scene should push something forward in some way, whether it’s character development or a plot point. So, with an opening scene, I always think you have to establish: where you are; who you are; what they are doing; where they’ve come from (in a philosophical and practical sense); and where they’re going (ditto). That doesn’t have to happen in the first paragraph -- that would be silly. But if you sprinkle that information in over time it’ll gradually build up a picture of your character and that way the reader can get an idea of who they are. You basically need to give a snapshot of what your story is about. This also goes back to the character creator stuff: where they are at the start should be different to where they end up. How that happens is, of course, because of plot, and because you’ve structured everything to the nth degree, we’ve got a very clear progression of that character’s growth (/s easier said than done lol).

General advice

Write down everything: every idea, a bit of dialogue, a description, whatever. Write it down. Doesn’t have to be neat. Just has to be on paper. You can’t remember everything, so if you’re spending time trying to hold those things in your head, it’s taking up space for new ideas to come along.

Structure, plan, structure, plan. Sometimes it’s boring and I hate it. Other times, when I’ve not written in a few days and I open the Word doc and think wtf is this supposed to be, I am very grateful for Past Me for leaving such detailed notes. Seriously, it helps so much. Oneshots don’t really need planning, in my experience. You just get those out there. But multi-chaptered stories really do, even ones that “just” focus on a relationship.

Whatever you want to write, commit to it. Space goblins invade Hawkins? Do it. Eleven and Max find themselves in a cult akin to Midsommar (2019) and must escape? Yes. Just... whatever you want to do, remember that you’re writing it for you. Write what most interests you, what makes you when you reread it go AHHHHH I LOVE THIS!! Because that makes it a thousand times easier to actually get on with the writing when you enjoy what you’re doing.

Write a lot. Every day, if you can, or at least at designated times. Occasionally I have a very specific headspace/vibe I have to be in, but sometimes it just hits me and I’ll say to my partner “I need to write now” and just disappear, lol. The more you write the more you write. It’s so, so, so true. Cannot emphasise this enough. When I wrote that ~200k in twelve months? It was because I literally wrote every. day. Or near enough. Remember that some days you’ll write 200 words, and other days you’ll write 20k (this happened to me with ADATS -- part of the reason I finished it so quickly was because I had sprints of writing 10k+ at a time that only happened because I was in the rhythm of it). Write, write, write. Who cares if it’s crap! No one will see it until you are ready. In the meantime, just write!

Probably last of all (although I could go on and on) is connect with other writers. If you’re struggling to start, sometimes just talking about it can help a huge amount. I hope it goes without saying that you can message me whenever you want, anon or not, and I will talk to you. We can talk about ideas or I can beta stuff, whatever you want! Find like-minded people and talk to them about what you want to do. Another thing this helps is in advertising your work when you do publish. I see a lot of first time fic writers get super down because they publish their magnum opus on AO3 but no one comments. Honestly, it’s because no one knows you’ve published! You don’t have to be tooting your own horn every which way, but just actively talking about your work and even collaborating with other content creators with get you hyped and other people too (and the input and encouragement other fandom members give is just... out of this world. Anon messages helped me finish ADATS when I was really worried I wouldn’t [that’s the truth]. Seriously, support is everything). When you have people excited about your work, you get excited. It’s really as simple as that.

I could go on but this is already horrendously long. I hope even a bit of this helps! If you want to chat or have any more questions, just hit me up any time.

[imaginethathaikyuu]

How did I find your blog? I was looking for soft Kuroo content on google. And your soft birthday hc’s for him came up. And that’s also how I found tumblr

What was the first story of yours that I read? That Kuroo piece ^

Roughly, how long have I been following this blog? Well I found that piece shortly after it was posted so…. Around the beginning of December 2019 I think. Got a tumblr a few months later and you were the first person I followed (had you in my bookmarks bar before that! (still have you in my bookmarks bar and when I share my screen in classes there are occasionally questions. I ignore them))

What’s something I’ve noticed about you personality wise? You’re really clever and funny. But you’re also sweet. But because you’re clever you have no hesitation in setting up and enforcing your boundaries, and I really admire that strength and confidence.

Have we ever interacted, either by PM, ask, or in the comments? What was my perception of you? YES!!! PM, SOOOOO many asks, comments, and you sent me an ask. And reblogged it. And I cried. A lot. My perception: you’re lovely and I want to h*ld your h*nd ….please.

What’s my favorite story of yours? Oh how to choose. Firstly, I’m a nb, biracial, bisexual. Honey, I’ve never made a choice in my life. But let’s try here. Anything you’ve written for Tsukki. Literally all of it is gold. Fight me. I was going to write “especially [piece title]” but I LITERALLY CANNOT CHOOSE ONE. Your Bokuto nightmare piece. Your Kuroo angsty fight. Your Tendou dealing with S/O with parents who yell piece. Your Kinktobers. Your Futakuchi and Mattsun pieces. And your Terushima pieces. Ugh. I CANNOT CHOOSE. OH AND YOUR STREAMER KENMA!!!!!! OKay just… all of it. I can’t choose. I tried, and I failed, and I’m willing to admit failure.

What’s a story I’d love to see you write? I don’t want to say this… because it hurts me… but I just KNOW you’d write brilliant angst. Some of my fav pieces of yours are pained beginnings with happy endings. That fight with Tsukki after a bad day at work. The pieces I mentioned above (nightmare pieces and fighting pieces and angsty home life ha.. ha.ha.ha.). That Oikawa one where the reader wakes up in bed without him and thinks he left. You write these gorgeous atmospheres and descriptive, visceral feelings, and if you chose to use it for evil…. You could get evil shit done. You’re SO powerful. So I want to read it… but also…. I don’t. I’d love to see you write ABO like you mentioned a while back or just see you explore a cutesy soulmate AU or something. I think you’d be really good at writing an AU where you hear what the other person’s listening too. I feel like you’d be so good at making me feel something for someone who was in another city. (think this would be cute with Tsukki cos he’s headphones boy, OR terushima because I like the dynamic of someone flirty, who clearly cares about looks, falling for someone he can’t see) ANYWAY….

Favorite pairing you write for?/fav reader insert? Tsukishima x reader. It’s my fav self-ship. (but also Mattsun, Bokuto, Oikawa, Tanaka, and Akaashi because you write them SO WELL!!!!)

Have any of your stories helped me through a hard time? Of course. Your self-harm piece came at a time I needed it. Iwaizumi’s in particular saved my life. But also your Tendou dealing with S/O parents who fight… came right when I needed it. Also starting college… was hard.. And reading and rereading your fluff really pulled me through it.

Have any of your stories hit closer to home? YES (see above).

Do I genuinely like your blog, it’s aesthetic or posts? It’s overall feel? It’s content? Yes. The aesthetic is, ngl, a wee bit basic. But I kinda love that. And the feel? It feels like home. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. Your blog is my safe space. So, yes, I love. It’s content? YES. OF COURSE. Your personality probably could have kept me here even if your content was kinda shit, but I follow you RELIGIOUSLY because of your content. So yes. I adore.

Is English my first language? Kinda??? I grew up in a trilingual household so I kinda learned three languages at the same time while growing up. But no, I don’t need to translate it in my head. Because English was one of the three.

Anything I want to share? Yes. Please keep being kind to yourself, caring for your mental health, enforcing your boundaries, loving Akaashi, and just generally being you. You’re so lovely as you are, and I hope you continue grow, but never change. Also I’m sorry about all your work stuff…. It literally makes me feel sick. And I hope you find a job where that’s not tolerated, or that your work finds a better way of protecting it’s employees. I know you know this, but none of it is your fault. I just hope things improve. AND I love you… a lot. And I’m so proud of you hitting 9K and you deserve so many more followers because your pieces are just... GORGEOUS. I can’t wait until I’m at Barnes and Noble in a few years and I can pick up a hardback copy of your debut novel. I’m so excited to say “I knew Em Akaashi (which is your legal name as far as I’m concerned) before she was so popular among the masses.”

so ive been trying to figure out the correct and worthy way to reply to this ask since the moment i got it......because its so fucking sweet and kind and amazing and pure and perfect and i just dont know how to use WORDS to explain the way it makes me feel so.......i will just reply in bullet points in regards to every question u answered to make it a lil easier :D

- the fact that u found my blog on google ....... like this may be odd and a very specific thing but before i made this blog i always hoped that 1 day my fanfic would pop up in google searches bc thats ALWAYS how i found fics when i was reading them religiously and i felt so much ENVY!!!!! LIKE I WANTED TO BE THERE I WANTED MY FICS TO B POPULAR ENOUGH TO POP UP ON GOOGLE.....that may sound very selfish but its true......so thats just very cool to me... :]

- u’ve been here for so long omg 🥺🥺🥺🥺 if anyone in ur classes ever asks jus promo my blog like its nbd 

- thats so sweet what 🥺🥺🥺 i try my best to advocate for myself and be confident for myself.....ive spent far too much of my time being silently uncomfortable because i was afraid of pushing someone’s buttons seeming rude.....but NO MORE!!!! i know what upsets me, i know my triggers, i know what i dislike experiencing, and im never gonna let myself be anxious or uncomfortable for someone else’s sake, esp if theyre being rude 2 me. i would say its less strength and confidence and moreso me attempting to take control of my anxiety in the places i can (aka on the Internet) bc i am SICK OF ANXIETY ATTACKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

- BBY no dont CRY!!!! im racking my brain trying to think of who u are i wanna know so bad so i can thank u personally for being the kindest person in the world n so i can send u more asks >:(........MY HAND IS URS TO HOLD!!!!! dont tell akaashi tho 

- OMG my TSUKKI pieces.....hes so hard to write why ;-; thank u so much im so glad u enjoy my works<3333

- NOT ANGST NOT LIKE THIS!!!!!!!!! pained beginnings to happy endings are my specialty.....IMAGINE me writing a sad ending like i CANT!!!!!!!!! ive only done it a few times and it is so Difficult.....YALL ARE SO LUCKY IM NOT EVIL!!!!!! ive had this idea for an angsty akaashi fic that i think about and write in my head every night before falling asleep and it Hurts and i wanna write it but i also can’t make myself :D ABO would be very fun but i genuinely do not know how to explore the concept while making it feel like it’s Written By Me.....u know what i mean? same with soulmate aus, i really dislike writing them because theyre just boring to me like they all feel the same everything’s been done for them.....which is FINE!!! but i write enough cliche stuff as it is HAHA, a long distance type soulmate au could be fun and interesting but ldr’s trigger me bc of a past relationship so </3 but hey maybe someone else could use the idea!!!!!

- gotta love tsukishima <3

- im rlly glad my writing could be there for you friend, one of the biggest reasons i write fanfic (and write the kind of fics i write) is bc i know firsthand how much reading sweet stories abt ur comfort characters can help u through the shittiest times - i just wanna offer ppl some support and happy feelings and love cuz sometimes fanfic is the only time we can find those things (and theres nothing shameful abt that either if anyone bullies u for reading fanfic i will fight them)

- I KNOW MY LAYOUT IS LAZY AND BASIC AS FUCK AND THAT IS BECAUSE I DO NOT GIVE A SHIT LMAOOOO so im glad u think its ok...... like i dont have the patience to create a fancy ass layout that actually works are u KIDDING ME??????? I COULD LITERALLY NEVER plus i kinda like that its just the basic kinda ugly boring default layout like it makes it simple and easy and i feel like it brings focus to the only thing on this blog that i care about which is my writing, i rlly only care about the content here and not aesthetics jdbljdabsdk that blue background will be there til i Die......i adore u more btw 

- WHOA trilingual what the hell ur so cool tell me more 

- you have my word, friend, that i will continue to do all of that so long as you do the same. take care of yourself, be kind to yourself - i know u can do it, ur so kind to others and u deserve to be kind to urself, too so this is the part that genuinely brought me to tears because *sappy dumb shit ahead* ok look ever since i can remember the one and only thing ive wanted to do with my life is become an author ...... dreams of book covers with my name written on them and words in pages written by me and fanart of my characters and going into my local bookstore n seeing my book there....these thoughts all haunt my fucking brain because i want it SO BAD!!!!!!!! so bad that it makes me CRY!!!!!!!! ive never wanted something more and just!!!!!!!!!!!! idk how much u meant that part but holy fuck!!!!!! i hope so bad that one day i can send u a free copy of my book as a thank u for being the person u are. u have all my love friend, every last bit of it <333333333

[thrushpot]

punch-drunk love

Billy Hargrove x fem reader

“dUDE drunken confessions are my favorite trope!!!! I can so imagine a post-starcourt billy au with a reader who maybe was his friend beforehand but they never really acted on their feelings. the reader gets a phone call at like 2am and billy's just like "listen,,remember all those hours we spent in detention with mr kaminsky? I would do it all again if it meant just sitting beside you because sometimes I look at you and I just see goddamn gold. are you sure you're literally not the sun??" requested by anonymous.

word count: 2,454

warning(s): swearing, drinking

a/n: HECK YEAH MAN I wrote this shit up in like two hours, and I’d even be open to continuing it to like a part two if anyone wanted. drunk Billy in fics is always angsty and mean, but I wanted him goofy and soft!! thank you for adding cute ideas to the drunk call trope <3

—

Billy huffs as he clumsily grabs the next bottle and unscrews the lid with his teeth, spitting it out on the ground carelessly and taking a good chug. It quit burning his throat as it went down a while ago, and now he just feels the weight on his shoulders finally give out. His body wiggles as he tries to stand up from the couch he’d been surfing the whole night, and he gives a lighthearted chuckle to himself at the pleasant buzz flowing. It’s getting to that point of his binge drinking where mistakes are going to be made. He has a persistent urge to break the rules, to do something he’s never had the courage of doing sober.

After no thinking at all, because who the fuck needs a brain when you’ve got booze, he picks up the phone and dials a number he’s sure as shit hasn’t forgotten and will never forget. A smirk plays on Billy’s face, a cocky, shit-eating grin that spreads like he’s the goddamn Grinch and even shows the whites of his teeth while twirling the telephone wire similar to a schoolgirl calling their crush. It rings for about thirty seconds, until he’s hung up on and directed to voicemail.

“Fuck! Don’t be a fuckin’ drag, Y/N. C’mon,” he whines as he kicks the cabinet by his knees, then hangs up and spins the rotary dial to yours again. He licks his upper lip deviously and takes a sip from the bottle he had opened, and waits for your sweet voice on the line again. All hope is lost when there is no answer once more, so he just curses and nearly chucks the phone out of desperation. Billy also thinks of leaving another voicemail this time around except more lengthy and demanding, something to grab your attention and make you talk to him again. That’s all he wants, after all. It’s been months since he’d even seen your pretty face sitting in the desks sideways, and he regrets not kissing the smile you always wore when he had you right there in front of him in detention every week.

Before getting to know you he’d settle for trying to make you laugh in the bleak silence of Mr. Kaminsky’s classroom, attempting to balance a spoon on his nose or throwing paper airplanes your way. Billy figured you were just laughing at his antics out of politeness but didn’t care to actually speak to him, that is until you threw a crumbled piece of paper at him one sunny day in regular boring shitsville of Kaminsky’s. It took him by surprise, considering it flew right to his face while he was zoning out, and he reacted by flailing in embarrassment before exclaiming a defensive “WHAT THE HELL?”. It was the most unique companionship the boy had ever had that followed after your laughing and pointing a finger at him. He had to give it to you, it was pretty funny. When he recovered from your attack, he shook his head with a small grin as he unwrapped your note, reading “heads up” in that adorable sloppy handwriting.

After that, the rest is pretty much history. Billy was hooked to goofing around with you more often, and you both always made it a point to get in trouble just to spend time together in detention. Considering this wasn’t hard at all for the blonde boy, getting into fights with guys or taunting the girls, even falling asleep mid-lecture, detention was another place to call home. You, however, chose how and when you got caught.

Billy never really did gather up the courage to say what he was thinking about day or night, how pretty he thinks you truly are and that you don’t even know it, which makes it that much more special. Not to mention the countless numbers he’d done howling with laughter at a comment you made, feeling like he just got a workout after laughing so much. He never got to tell you that those moments are all he’d look forward to day in and day out. That if his dad smacked him around if he misbehaved the slightest bit at home, or if teachers were ruthless and judgemental in every class, then he could take all that. He could take the whooping and the ass beatings and the name calling, if it meant he got to spend two hours fucking around in detention staring at you. A place where nothing is supposed to happen, and no one interesting usually attends.

Billy’s made progress gulping half his bottle, now picking at a protein bar from the kitchen, trying and failing to open the impossible wrapper. He almost decided on just eating the whole damn thing, fuck the wrapper, until the obnoxious blaring of the telephone rings. He’s quick to react, as drunk as he is, and tosses the snack he planned to scarf down before tripping to get to the phone. He picks up and holds it to his ear.

“Hello?”

There it is, that voice again.

“Heeeey. Hey there, little miss thing. It’s Billy Boy,” he draws out each word, trying to sound suave even if he hiccuped a little when he greeted you. Copying the same movements he did when he first tried ringing you up, he tangled the wire between his fingers and stared at the table dreamily, imagining you in your comfy clothes. Smiling and cozy.

“Woah, uh, hey Billy. It’s been a little while, what’re you up to calling this late?” you inquire over the phone, and he pictures you rubbing your eyes before stretching and yawning and he just wishes so bad that he got to see that madness.

“Mm, no no no. I’m curious about what you’re doin’,” he replies suggestively, smacking his tongue in his mouth.

“What? I’m sleeping, dude. I’m all for this reuniting thing, but could’ya please just have waited ‘til morning like a normal human being?” you say, growing a little frustrated at the randomness of the call and his ambiguous intentions.

“No Y/N! It’s top secret stuff, believe me. Fucking important that I call you now, at,” he bends over backwards to check the clock that glows on the microwave, “two fifteen in the morning. We never just talk like we used to, y’know since we graduated and all,” Billy complains like a petulant child, not hiding it in his voice that he’s pouting.

There’s a second of silence, and he slurs out your name to see if you rudely hung up on him again, until you speak.

“Are you calling me drunk?”

“Nuh-uh, silly goose. I never said that you were drunk,” he snorts, having to regain his balance after getting too excited and almost falling over with the phone still tucked in his right shoulder. He hears a long sigh being let out on the other end.

“Oh for fucks sake—“

“You always get so mad when you’re cute, d’you know that? Wait. I mean, fuck, lemme try that again,” the boy squints and puts his fingers on his temple to try to focus. “You’re really hot when you’re mad. There. Nailed it,” he finishes.

“Oh my gosh, you poor thing. Dude, you’re shit faced,” you crack up. “This is gonna be even funnier in a few hours. Not for you, I mean, you’ll probably have a killer hangover, but I for one am enjoying this.”

“Oh yeah? You like it, don’tcha cutie pie?”

“Sure do. Tell me more, Casanova.”

“Mmm yeah, I’ll tell you more. Right after you tell me what you’re wearing,” he chews on his lip, thinking that this is all going perfectly to plan. You double take, then decide to play along just for shits and giggles.

“Okay, you asked for it. I have my old Hawkins High gym t-shirt on, and some Spider-Man sweats on too. Oh, also some slippers, because the floor is cold,” you finish, hoping he’s satisfied.

“Noooo, c’mon. Fuckin’ lame-o. I wanna know what’s underneath,” he whines after not getting the kind of answer he wanted to get. Getting horny was always a given when he had a couple drinks, but what with having absolutely no filter and you right there on the phone, he’s getting irresistibly antsy. Wishing you were right next to him, so he could claw at your clothes and whisper his dirty thoughts into your neck.

“Fat chance there, hot-shot. What was it you were saying before? Oh yeah, about how I’m awesome and beautiful. Wanna keep goin’?”

“Ugh. Fine. If y’like lame sweet talk, then listen up, sweet cheeks. Remember all those long hours in Kaminsky’s? That old man would bitch at me for breathing, and like, existing. So, like the fuckin’ moron he is and the fuckin’ nuisance I am, I would get assigned to be there every day. I coulda ditched lots of times, just sneak through the window if he turned his bald head around or somethin’. But I never did. ‘Cuzza you. In fact, I’d do it all over again. Wanna know why?”

Billy’s now crashed into the nearest chair by the island in the kitchen, staring up at the ceiling and itching his crotch like the drunken mess of a boy he is. The clock on the microwave now glows the numbers 2:28 AM.

You’ve been stunned to silence, not quite knowing whether to laugh anymore or take what he’s saying truthfully or with a grain of salt. They always say that after someone’s had a few, that those are the times they spout about what’s really on their mind all the time.

“I-I don’t know about this, Billy.”

“Nope! Try again,” he giggles, putting the phone in a comfy spot nestled by his ear as his clumsy hands struggle to unbutton his shirt more for better comfort.

“...Cause of, cause of me?” you peep, unsure of yourself.

“Ding ding ding! Give the pretty girl a prize!” he claps his hands when they’ve fully undone the confines of his t-shirt, then laying back and sinking impossible further into the chair. He reaches for the bottle that has yet to be finished, and licks his lips as he realizes how thirsty he is for more.

“Billy don’t — stop it. Stop drinking, I can hear you. You’ve had enough,” you calmly advise, growing more nervous at the heavy weight this whole conversation has thrown at you. Since when did Billy feel this way?

“Aww, takin’ care a me. Such a sweetheart,” he marvels, blushing but keeping the bottle in his grasp. “You wanna know somethin’ else?”

“No, I don’t think I do. Not until we can discuss this when you haven’t been drinking.”

Billy chooses to ignore that and goes on.

“I’d just — when I looked at you, in detention, where we were like a thousand percent of the time together, I just. Can’t help but see goddamn gold. You’re the goddamn sun, you know that? I’m talking to the sun right now,” Billy suddenly wants to be held and nurtured, feeling tears well up in his eyes and his nose begin running funny. He doesn’t feel so good anymore.

Things are quiet on your end. Billy doesn’t know what your silence means, but it doesn’t seem too good.

“Y/N? When you looked at me, d-did you ever like, feel the same way? Look at me like that? Like I’m the sun?” he asks, desperate for your validation and then sniffled as the tears now started running down his cheeks in waves. He’s a hot mess.

“Billy... you never talked to me outside of detention. Like I didn’t exist, or I wasn’t cool enough to hang out anywhere else. I never knew...” you trailed off, trying to fight off your own tears and the overwhelming feeling his confession had given you.

“Y-You were so cool, I woulda hung out with you more if I wasn’t such a fucking bastard, or such a goddamn coward. But I miss you, and I wanna kiss you everywhere and I wish you could hold me all th’time,” his self pitying erupts to sobs as he finally lets go of the bottle that he clutched between his hands. It rolls into the floor, thankfully not breaking on the way down, but the contents begin leaking out onto the rug. Billy has yet to notice, still fumbling over his words and thoughts. He regrets getting this blasted now.

“Billy?”

“Hmm?” he mumbles, still not quite over himself as he hugs his bare chest, shirt still remaining open.

“Of course I looked at you like were the sun. Anybody who didn’t, like Kaminsky, or your fake asshole friends, they all don’t matter, okay? Please let me know if you’re hurting. Have you been home alone drinking?”

“Yeah, I have. And, and’ya really actually mean it? That stuff you said?”

“I would never lie to you. I’m really tired, and I’m so sorry for doing this to you, but I have to get back to bed,” you say, reluctantance in your tone as you sigh prettily in his ear once more.

“I’m gonna, I’m sleepy too. Real sleepy. Talk soon?” Billy asks, sounding about as hopeful as a child on Christmas Eve.

“Yeah. I’ll call you tomorrow, alright?”

“Mmmkay. G’bye, pretty girl.”

You let out a breathy laugh at that, then say your farewell, advising him to drink a glass of water and take an Advil before hanging up. The blonde drunk is absolutely exhausted, the whirlwind of emotions that you and the alcohol had put him through had knocked the boy right out. He face plants into the cushions of the couch for a minute, getting close to sleep until a sudden twinge in his gut pulls him up awake. He then makes a run for the bathroom, slipping on the spilled booze on the floor from earlier, and barely makes it in time. He pukes up all the drinks he had for a good five minutes, heaving sickly into the bowl and helplessly clawing at the toilet seat for a better grasp.

Once he’s sure that he has nothing left in his stomach to give, he sits up and scoots to the wall for support, wiping his mouth and hissing in disgust at the bitter taste it left. He gets comfortable even in an odd position, sitting up with his back against the wall right next to the toilet, and decides that this is where he’ll sleep for tonight. As Billy yearns for a much needed deep drunk sleep, he mumbles to himself under his breath about Y/N and her smile and the sun.

—

edit: there will be a sequel, writings in progress ! do not panic I swear this isn’t supposed to end bleak and depressing, I just wanted to show Billy being a hot mess. at first I kinda thought oooh this ending’s fine, if ppl want a sequel ig ill do it, but after reading it over myself I kinda went “the fuck?? this boy deserves to be happy” so I'm gonna do it. if anyone wants a tag as usual, just let me know ! & thank you for the sweet comments and reblogging, I can't be more thankful:)

[nsheetee]

My Only Star

Pairing: Doyoung x Reader Genre: Soulmate AU || Fluff, a dash of Angst Length: 2k Summary: You and Doyoung are linked by Fate’s red string in the most unique way: you can communicate through music before you meet each other for the first time. When you decide to date Kun, a long time friend who helps you get experience in the dating world, Doyoung becomes jealous decides it’s time to finally meet you in person.

a/n: the italicized quotes are from @doietonic ‘s poem “The Only Star.” Credit for the poem goes to them (thank you for letting me use it :’) )

☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆

“At first, I wasn’t so sure whether you’re a sickness or a cure but as time passes by, you were neither- but a star in the sky.”

When you first heard music in your head, you were absolutely frightened. You poked your head up and searched for the source, but when no source could be found you quickly ran to your mother in the next room, straight into her open arms and nuzzled into her warmth, screaming to make the invisible music stop. After you were calmed down and explained the new phenomenon, you could have sworn you were cursed.

It took you months to get used to the new voice in your head, one that you could not control. It felt like a part of your brain was not your own, an unsettling feeling to have to get used to, but something that was forced upon you without choice. You certainly cursed at Fate for the years to come, before you understood how much of a blessing your soulmate tell really was.

Music became more than background noise for you, or something used to calm you down when things got rough; it was now a tool to communicate with your soulmate. If you directly sang, your voices could be heard as clear as day in each other’s head; or if there was enough music playing in the background, you could pick up conversations the other person was having with others around them.

Once you and your soulmate learned the ins and outs of your tell, you started to talk to each other through simple and quiet melodies. You had nightly singing sessions with your soulmate; you sung out of your window and to the moon in hopes of not waking up the rest of the people who were sleeping in your home. The conversations were not deep or lengthy, awkwardness keeping certain details from being shared, but the connection between the two of you could be felt deep in both of your hearts.

Your soulmate’s name is Doyoung; his voice reminded you of spun silk and steamed milk and everything that is nice to the senses. Even at a young age, Doyoung had an amazing talent of singing and it only improved as he grew up, you had the pleasure of experiencing this talent bloom first hand. His voice became your new music: it calms you down on the nights that you could not sleep due to anxiety, stress, or just a bad case of the toss-and-turns. Sometimes it seemed like he was the only person who would listen to you and your troubles.

You got to know him through his absentminded singing while he was working or doing homework, while he was cleaning his house to the point of it being spotless, and while he was relaxing with a cup of tea on his balcony. It felt backwards to you: knowing someone through their personality first rather than through the basic facts like what they did for a living, what their favorite color was, and what they looked like.

Doyoung got to know your persistence and hard-working nature when he would hear you practice the piano almost every single night. Some practice sessions ended in success, but some ended in distress; Doyoung admired how you would always get back behind the piano the next day and work out the problems. Sometimes, when you added your voice to your playing, Doyoung would stop whatever he was doing and just listen. He wondered how you looked when you played the piano and sang. Did you close your eyes? Did you tilt your head in an attempt to get some tricky notes out? He so badly wanted to know- to see with his own eyes.

If only Doyoung had spoken out about wanting to see you in person, maybe things could have been different. You and Doyoung never actually knew how physically close you were to each other; how many times you had walked passed each other on the streets, or stood in line behind each other at the bookstore, or rode the same bus at the same time. Since the location of your residence was not something either of you brought up (either being too shy to bring it up first, or maybe scared of what reality this new information could bring,) the fake distance you created between each other made you become each other's star in the sky: unreachable, but not a feature to be overlooked.

“I didn’t realize that you were there, I’ve always thought that some stars were rare. So, I loved the moon even if it was hard to reach.”

When you got a boyfriend, Doyoung became confused. Here was his literal soulmate, the person made for him, being intimate with someone else. It made him want to rip out the part of his head that was made specially for you, maybe then he could stop hearing your cheerful laughter towards someone who wasn’t him. Doyoung knew in the end it would be him that you would end up with, but he couldn’t help getting a bit insecure.

Kun was an amazing person, of course you would date him. He was funny, caring, and a long time friend. Although he has his own soulmate and you have yours, you both decided to create this arrangement for the purpose of getting experience in the dating world before meeting your soulmates in person. It was honestly relaxing to be able to go through things like your first date with Kun- he made it light-hearted and you felt more experienced coming out of it.  

When you discussed this arrangement with Doyoung, he was now not only confused but slightly territorial, especially when you started talking about Kun during your nightly chats with the moon. You would sing about how you did this and that with Kun, how Kun made this amazing pasta a few days ago, how Kun got your favorite flowers for you, Kun this, Kun that, Kun. Doyoung was sure you didn’t mean to rub the relationship in his nose; he couldn’t help but feel isolated and forgotten. He is your soulmate, you are his. He didn’t care how experienced or inexperienced you were when you met him, he just wanted you in his life and he wanted Kun out of it.

“Then a star like you came and fell and as if you had this spell- a spell which made me realize things- things that I did not know only you could bring.”

The warm grass tickled your toes as you sat bare-foot on a blanket in the park; like a sunflower, your head tilted up to the sun and caught it’s rays as they shone down. The band currently on the make-shift stage in front of you was sending beautiful music towards your direction, you couldn’t help but close your eyes and absolutely fall in love with the moment. It took you awhile to realize that the same music in front of you was repeating in your head, but your eyes popped open in shock when you did. You turned your head around, looking at the other concert-goers for anyone who looked like your soulmate, which you thought would be impossible since you’ve never seen him before.

And yet, when your eyes met with a pair of dark, raven-like ones for the first time, you knew. This is Doyoung. You had no idea what to expect, but he exceeded anything you could ever think of. Your feet picked you off of the grass and you made your way to where he was standing on the concrete behind the rest of the audience. When you reached him, your throat felt narrow from the nerves in your stomach.

“D-Doyoung?” You asked timidly, sending a small, empty prayer that this was him.

“Y/N.” He answered, and you sighed at how much his live voice sounded like the one that you are so used to hearing in your head.

“You opened my heart to something new, and that was about loving you. You are the star that can connect with me just like the constellations being looked at by the sea. You’ll always be my only star.”

Getting to know Doyoung in real life was different than getting to know him through your soulmate tell. Maybe it was something about the added senses of touch and sight that made him feel more real. Being with Doyoung was different than being with Kun; with Kun you had to try and find the things you liked about him, but with Doyoung, the things you fell in love with came to you.

Like when you shared your first kiss on the doorstep of your home one night, and Doyoung couldn’t look at you before he did it. You gently took hold of his jaw, turned him to you, and then leaned forward. You didn’t feel like each other’s star in the sky, you felt like you were finally connected, finally together. Lips meshing together and warmth seeping between both of you. You shamelessly wondered if Fate took her time in making sure you and Doyoung were absolutely perfect for each other.

Or once you and Doyoung moved in together, you found out how he had to drink coffee in the morning to function and it doesn’t matter who you are, you don’t talk to him until he’s had his coffee. The first morning spent with Doyoung felt more like a nightmare, you couldn’t figure out what you did wrong to make him glare at you the way he did. When you learned about his addiction to the heavenly bitter caffeine, you wanted to show a small act of compromise. You started bringing Doyoung his coffee in bed with a kiss on his messy bed hair and a delicate “good morning” to stir him out of his sleep. The mornings he wakes up to the smell of coffee just the way he likes it and your body next to his were some of the greatest mornings of his life.

Or how he would sing in the shower, his voice echoing off the tile walls to reach your ears in the bedroom. His singing skills seemed to only improve as time went on, and the acoustics in the bathroom made you lean your ear against the door, trying to block out the echo of his song in your head. You liked hearing Doyoung’s authentic voice nowadays rather than the copy that was in your head. One day, when you convince Doyoung to let you join him in the shower, he coyly sings melodies into your wet, bare shoulder and laughs through the lyrics as you massaged the shampoo through his hair. Yes, hearing Doyoung’s voice live was one of your new favorite simplicities in life.

Or when you try to fall asleep but something in your head just isn’t letting you, Doyoung wraps you tightly in his hold and hums you into a blissful sleep. Although it’s an amazing feeling to fall asleep to, it’s even better when you wake up to him still beside you, tracing patterns on the skin of your waist and pushing the hair out of your eyes. No words shared, barely-awake glaces at one another that Doyoung forgets as he falls back asleep, but you wouldn’t give up these moments for the whole world.

It was ridiculously easy to forget about everyone and everything with Doyoung around, he lifted you up and secured you down. He was a trusted ally and a place you could go when you felt like everyone else was against you. He is your soulmate, and loving him is as easy as loving the stars if they were all in the palm of your hand. As for Doyoung- he got what he wanted: to be the only one that mattered to you, and to have the simplicity of hearing you in real life, next to him, was enough. For once being each other’s unreachable star, it was pleasantly sweet to now be each other’s only star.

[kpopisthereasonihavenolife]

Dandelion

BTS

Park Jimin/Reader [F]

Genre: College AU, Enemies->Friends->Lovers, Fluff

Warning(s?): Mentions of Drinking/Smoking, Jimin’s Tattoo

Words: 9.7k

Summary: Park Jimin was a hot topic name floating around campus on the daily.  Always seen with a girl at his hip with a different girl on his thigh just a few days later.  Rumor has it he’s never had a fling with one girl lasting longer than a week.  With your gossip-addicted best friend and his friendship with Jimin, Jimin comes to learn about you.  A week isn’t so hard sticking around one girl, the hardest part is when day 7 stars approaching. So, he decides he wants to make a wish instead. Wishing on a dandelion has to work. 

a/n: this is sloppy bc I did it all in one sitting and I apologize

“I heard Jimin broke up with his girlfriend!”  The first thing you were greeted with at lunchtime and it was your overly excited, sparkly-eyed best friend.  He was always the one to get any and all gossip he could just because he wanted to be part of the circle of gaudy gossip.  You could care less about half the bull that comes out of his mouth.

“And why would I care?  What, is it his longest lasting relationship or something.  Wow, 5 days with the same chick, whoop-dee-doo.”  You slid into a cafeteria, blue chair unloading the tray filled with two wrapped chicken sandwiches and a styrofoam bowl of strawberries.  

“Oh come on, you can’t deny that it’s odd.  There’s talk about him actually liking this one, maybe he’ll go back in for a double dip.”  

You gagged.  “Eugh, can’t you go and tatter off to your other friends?  I don’t wanna hear anything about Jimin’s sex life, Jackson.”

Jackson slumped over in the seat next to you as he sighed dramatically into the air. He would always act like you just kicked over a tower of legos he spent 4 hours building whenever you would blatantly refuse to care about his gossip. It was no surprise that Jackson knew all the haps of anything ever.  He was a people person, who knew everyone ever it seemed.

If you called some random number over in LA, you had no doubt if you mentioned Jackson, they would answer back ‘oh, yeah I know him!’.  He’s been everywhere and you were always curious as to why.  He wasn’t a homebody by any stretch.  

“I can’t talk to other people about his hips girl, all because they’ve all been with him before.  You- albeit- haven’t! So, I can talk to you about him with a clean slate honey.”

“That reasoning and your stupid use of pet names have no correlation of why I need to hear it and I’ve also revoked your drunk stay over privilege until next Monday.”

Jackson gapped at you.

“Your couch is my drunk home! Don’t evict me you, she-devil!” He whapped at your shoulder and swapped right back to the topic at hand.  “Besides, I’m his friend, why aren’t you?”

“Do you really have to ask?  He doesn’t know I exist for one and I’d like to keep it that way.  All he’s gonna do is try and wedge his half-dollar-coin-sized dick between my legs.”

“Sometimes, you really do need to get laid.”

“If you don't think I won’t knee him in the balls if he comes even within a 4-foot radius of me, you’re wrong.”

Sensing the conversation die, Jackson finally moved onto a different topic altogether.  Even if the topic shifted from Jimin, the conversation he yapped your off about how unsanitary the school campuses bathroom is, was still far from welcome.

Munching on your food, and nearly finished Jackson stopped his yammering when someone clapped his shoulder.  Looking over his shoulder, he busted out into laughter at the irony as you could see their figure in the corner of your eyes.  Only offering a small and short eyeroll.

Park Jimin stood behind Jackson, his hand on his hip with a pair of shades and a beanie on his blonde head. His leather jacket covered his yellow flannel that hid his white tee with his jeans that were ripped at the thigh.  His biker boots were worn and frankly needed some care to them.

You remain unbothered and silent as the two began to speak to another.

“I was told to pass along the message,” Jimin said as he held out a small scrap of folded paper.  Taking it with a pluck, Jackson flipped it open and scanned the words written along it.  

“Right on, right on. Whose place is this one at?”

“Jin’s setting us up.”  Jackson whistled with a smirk.

“Of course.  Mr. Connections, always pulling through.”

Jimin nodded, Seokjin always had connections.  Be it with a house to throw parties or what flower shop to go to when your little 3-year-old niece wants a bouquet of daisies for her birthday. He always had a go-to.  Perks of being a rich kid who knew any and everyone with the social skills to back you up.  You’ve even asked him once if he knew a place in town that sold old, used textbooks. He was cocky about it, but at least he gave you an answer and a promise to save some money.

“Friday at 8.  Don’t forget like last time and show up at 3 when everyone is already passed out or getting fucked in a room, yeah?” Jimin quipped with a smirk on his face.  Jackson only rolled his eyes as he swiveled around to you, shoving the paper in your face as you popped a strawberry in your mouth.

Reading the words in sloppy handwriting, it looked like a kindergartner wrote it.  It just showed a location, a time and date.  Probably all the for party that you assumed to two were fawning over.  You shifted your eyes to look over the paper into Jackson’s face.  A gleam in his eyes and a smile on his face.  Far too suspicious.

“Why am I looking at this?”

“You’ve gotta come with me!”  You rolled your eyes as slapped the top of his hand, making him retracted it and rub at the skin with a pout. “Rude,” he muttered.

“If you think I’d enjoy being in a loud, sweaty, drunken club with all your frat friends looking for a night less than 20$ and 5 shots, you really need to revoke your friendship with me. I’d rather stare directly into a high voltage flashlight for 2 hours and go blind, thanks.”

You popped another strawberry into your mouth as Jackson laid his head down on the table and looked at you.  Lips pouted and eyelashes fluttering like a damsel in distress.  

“Please?”

“Not happening.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“Please?”

“Jackson!”

“Okay okay,” he reasoned before he sat up and snapped his fingers.  A stupid plan forming in his head, you could feel it. “How about it’ll be a favor for me?  I’ll owe you one!” You sighed as you rubbed your forehead.  He was such a headache.  “Please, I won’t ask anything more for the rest of the month plus I’ll even owe you a favor.  Any favor, you know I'm down for anything.”

“So long as it doesn’t end up with you sitting in a holding cell?” You quipped with a smile as you remember back in high school he was running around town, causing all sorts of trouble with beer on his brain instead of logic.

“That was a long time ago! Let it die!” He whined.

As the two of you bickered, the both of you had failed to register Jimin still stood at the table.  Jimin knew a lot of the student body, even if the campus and college were diverse and huge.  Though, he hadn’t seen you before.  Arguing with Jackson about not wanting to come to a world-class frat party was amusing enough.  The fact that you seemed to know Jackson already, only made it better.  You probably had so much dirt on him it was laughable.

You seemed stubborn, probably annoyingly so.  He moved to rest his rear on the table top, lounging with one leg propped up as he watched you two.  He wasn’t needed here, he wasn’t required to stay and listen in on a conversation that had literally nothing to do with him.

Yet, he was intrigued all the same.  Then, you noticed him.

You peeked around Jackson as you threw the last strawberry from your bowl into your mouth, the red from the fruit staining your lips in a way he wanted to forget, but somehow knew he wouldn’t.  

“Can we help you?” You asked in a spiteful manner.  He lifted his hands in defense.

“Oh no, carry on.  This is fun,” he replied as you rolled your eyes.  “Besides,” he started again, “it’s just a party.  There’s nothing wrong with that.”  

“Some of us have other things to do believe it or not.  Maybe I’m not into alcohol, or maybe I’m just not a party person.  Ever think of that genius?”

He hissed in a playful manner, dramatically clutching his chest.  

“That stings.  And to think I was inviting you.”

“No, Jackson was inviting me.”

“But, I invited him.  So through correlation, I am the mastermind.”

“Oh my god,” you sighed as Jackson bit his lip in amusement. He knew Jimin had no idea who you were, yet he was chatting you up like you’ve been talking for a week.  “I don’t really want to take an invite from some rando guy who hops from girl to girl like frogs from lily pads.  Please shut up.”  

Before anything else, you looked at the watch face on your wrist and pushed out your chair.  Loading the tray with your trash and empty strawberry-stained bowl, you slung your bag over your shoulder. Jackson stood up as well, taking the tray from you as you huffed.  

“I’ll take your trash,” he kindly said.  It was suspicious once again, but you’d allow it.  “You’re going to work on your camera right?  Didn’t you get a new one?” You nodded.

“I did.  I was going to go back to the dorms and fiddle with it.  I don’t have another lecture until 4, so I can afford some practice photos.” He nodded.

“Make sure to take a photo of a dandelion and show it to me first!”

“What if I wanted to show my roommate?”

“You know she won’t be there.  She’s always out late.”

“You’re right,” you added with a playful smirk.  She worked late and after that, she always had something to do. It was a good night when she came sauntering into the dorm at 2 AM.  

“Go on, shoo you, little photographer, you.” You shook your head with a chuckle and began to walk off.  Swerving around chairs and people, you plugged your headphones into your phone and placed your sound muffling cuffs over your head and toned out the world.  Leaving the cafeteria, the school and then to the campus grounds.  

Jackson as he said, dealt with your trash as Jimin hopped up from his seat on the table top and meandered his way back through the cafeteria to his mob of friends.  All talking about one thing or another.  

All Jimin could think about as he drummed his fingers on his arms was how to convince you to come to the party on Friday. He had something he wanted to know about and, quite frankly, he felt like you inadvertently challenged him.  So, of course, he had to prove a point now.  

Having someone banging on your door Friday evening at 6 PM was something you surely didn’t want to deal with. Already cozy with one of your old hoodies and a pair of shorts with your hair a damp mess from your shower earlier on, you were lounging on your couch flipping through TV channels utterly bored.

Jackson had spammed you with text after text trying to convince you to come to the party.  He tried every bribe in the book, but you just would not yield.  You only assumed that Jackson was the one pounding down your dorm door, but when it didn’t stop and your phone never chimed with a text to let him in, you grew curious.  

Growing tired of the constant bangs that didn’t seem to stop anytime soon, you rolled off the couch and stomped to the door, swinging it open without even peeking through the peephole who is inside.  Ready to be met with your best friend's face, yet not so.

“What the hell?” You whispered to yourself.  There, in front of you and your dorm room who just shoved his way past your shoulder to saunter inside was Park Jimin himself. “Um, excuse me?”

He, with his hands shoved into the pockets of his mint green windbreaker, turned to you with his tousled blonde hair and dark eyes.  “Yes?”

“Get the hell out?” You questioned as you motioned to the door.  He untucked his hands as he cupped his chin and puckered his mouth and crinkled his chin in a false thought motion.  He was already trying your patience.

“I think I’m good. Thanks for the offer though!” You groaned as you begrudgingly shut your door, glad for once that your roommate never comes back until way later than 6PM.  When you waltzed back into your living room, Jimin had made himself comfortable on your couch with your TV remote like he lived here.  You were offended, obviously so.

You stood in the doorway of the room as Jimin waved you over as you took skeptic steps towards him and sat on the far end of the couch.  Clear away from his grabby fingers that probably need a sanitize or two.

“I don’t bite you know,” he chuckled as he dug his phone from his pocket.  He opened his messages and you watched his thumbs drum away on the screen.  Messaging, hitting send, opening a new conversation and repeat.  How many friends did he have?  “We’ll leave in an hour.”  He said without batting an eye.

“Excuse me?”

“Jin’s party? We’re going.” Who did this man think he is?!

“Says who?!  I’m not going, I’m pretty sure I made that obvious before. You were eavesdropping so you know this mind you.”

“I wasn’t eavesdropping, I was just listening.  It’s not like I was hiding behind a wall and listening in while you and Jackson bitch back and forth.  Which is funny, by the by.” He dropped his phone into his lap as he hiked his arm up on the back of the couch, looking at you, your knees pulled to your chest with your feet on the couch cushion.  “You’re actually quite cute.”

You quickly jumped up and sat perched on the arm of your couch, pointing a finger at him as you opened your mouth and furrowed your brows.

“Ah-ha! I knew it!”

“Knew what?”

“You’re just a sleazy, shady, horny college frat boy who is just following me around because you don’t know me!” Jimin offered an annoyed eye roll, his eyes sticking up to his eyelids before he looked back down with a snarky grin. “I’ve heard your resume from Jackson, and I know better than to throw myself at you.”

“Oh, so you know about me?  Well, that’s unfair as I know nothing about you.”

“In fact, come any closer and I’ll punch you in your stupid face.”  Jimin just shook his head as he huffed out through his slightly parted lips.  He watched as you sat perched on the arm of your couch like some sort of bird of prey, practically hissing at him. You had obviously heard all the rumors from Jackson, most of which are probably true.  Most.  Not all of them are true though, however, he won't deny that he couldn't count the numbers of girls he's 'dated' on his fingers and toes combined.

"You know, I'm not all that bad.  I'm not gonna just get you drunk and pull some cheap trick on you like some jock would." He slid his phone into his windbreaker pocket.  "How about we compromise."

"Sounds sketchy," you reply without missing a beat.

"Now, now, hear me out.  I can tell you don't like me much," you interrupted him with a sarcastic 'oh really' before he continued talking over you, "but I'm not so much as a horn dog as I am something willing to give someone something they want.  I'm not into sex if it's not consensual, so don't worry about me making any moves on you."  He spoke like he was being truthful, but you still weren't a hundred percent certain you could take his words at face value.  He sighed, "look, if you go with me, we don't have to stay the whole time," he tacked on.

"We? Makes it sound like you're expected me to tail you all night."

"Not exactly, I will be hanging around you though.  Jackson said parties aren't your scene, and I absolutely know that if you had the option, you'd be a wallflower all night." You squinted at him as you held your pinkie towards him.  He looked at it with ticked brows then back to you.  "And this is?"

"A pinkie finger," you answered.

"No shit genius, why are you sticking it in my face?"

"Oh please, it's like you don't know what a pinky promise is."  You rolled your eyes.  "I'll go to the stupid party if, and only if, you stick to your word and not abandon me to flounder on my own because I'm actually a big wimp and I will cry and I will cause a scene otherwise."

Jimin busted out laughing as he linked his pinky in yours.  Extending your thumb, you pressed it against the pad of his own and 'locked' in the promise.  Now he absolutely wasn't allowed to go back on his word.  Or else you'd probably throw a knife set at him.

Jimin shooed you off as you walked to your room, swaying and moaning the entire way before you shut it behind you.  So much for a boring, cozy night in.  For once, maybe you'd see your roommate if you weren't out all night.  You sighed as you sadly stripped out of your hoodie and shorts replacing them with skinny jeans with holey knees and a white shirt.  Fixing your messy hair and tying it back with a stretched out hair tie, you slipped on your worn out flats and grabbed your phone from the nightstand.

It was nothing glamorous, and you expected other girls to probably be dressed more... openly to put it nicely.  Though, you were only going because you were peer pressured into it, not to get laid and definitely not to get hit on.  If anyone even came close to you with a stupid, drunk pick up line, you're most likely to panic and flee the scene like you committed murder.

You sighed as you looked into your mirror.

"Why am I a pushover to some jerk who hardly knows me?"  Then, you gasped as you stomped your foot, finally registering that Jackson had blabbed to JImin about you. "That snake!!  I'm taking away his drunk couch privileges indefinitely!" All while Jimin sat on the couch in the living room, laughing to himself as you screamed at nothing and shot Jackson a text that you were coming with him to the party.

To say Jackson's reply back was overbearing was an understatement.  He acts like an idiot towards you, but the 'Don't you dare try anything with her, I swear to god,' text he received told him that the relationship you two have is more than just back and forth banter.

When Jimin's ears perked up at the sound of your door down the hall unlatching, he picked himself up off the couch and watched as you came back into the living room changed and much more party ready.  He let out a loud whistle as you adjusted your shirt, tucking it in and letting the boy see just the smallest sliver of your stomach and if he was being honest, it was more attractive than he thought it would be.

You were teasing him and you weren't even aware of it.  That was the most painful thing about you so far.  He cupped his chin as he looked at you.  Peeking up as you fumbled with getting your shirt just right, you caught him inspecting.

"What?" You bit.

"Something just seems, off?  Something is missing from this look."  He hummed as he walked around you.  The shirt was fine, the jeans were aesthetically pleasing and the small choker you hooked around your neck was a touch of college that worked wonderfully with the outfit in question.  He came back to your front as he scrunched his eyes and then shot them open with a snap and a small ah-ha moment. "I know! You need a jacket!"

"Why?"

"Because it's a staple in fashion to have a jacket with a look so simple.  Your shirt and jeans combo with a flare of the choker is appealing, but a jacket always seals the deal!  Or, if it's too hot than settle for a cardigan."

"What are you, a fashion guru?"

"No, but I do take a high deal of pride in my fashion sense."  You rolled your eyes as you crossed your arms.  Why white?  It was almost too transparent, your stupid yellow star printed bra was just barely visible in the bright lights of the living room.  Surely it'd be fine at the party, it'll be dark in the house, save for the random rave lights that Jin is bound to have.  He goes all out when it's his party.

"And I assume you'll want this jacket to be black?" He nodded, it would be just wrong to have a white jacket over a white shirt.  It would clash too much.  "Too bad, I don't have one.  I have a grey one?" He shook his head.

"Nope.  Monochromatic is good, but not with this look.  Black is the only option.  Ah, you know what, I have something at my house I could lend you.  It'd so perfect with you!"  He smiled as he grabbed your wrist.  "Come on, I live 10 minutes off campus.  We've no time to waste!"  He whined as he dragged you through the dorm and eventually out the door.

Soon, within the next hour, you found yourself climbing off of his motorcycle- that nearly frightened you to death with him as the driver- in his leather jacket outside a house too big to be real and almost envy-inducing.

The house was two stories and looked like a widened stock photo with how wide it was.  All the window shades were open and lights of blues, reds, purples flickered in uneven patterns through them.  The music was just bass boosted enough you could feel it in your feet when Jimin marched you both up the patio and through the door.  It was like walking into a speaker the way your body met with all the heat, lights and loud music.

You couldn't hear yourself think as you weaved through people, behind their backs and gasping when you nearly ran into a couple more than ready to take their lip lock elsewhere.  You shrunk in on yourself as you stumbled around before Jimin took your wrist again.

"Come on," he leaned closer to you and spoke loud enough you could hear him.  Letting him drag you off somewhere, he quite rudely pushed people away and maneuvered through the crowds of drunk college kids. He was definitely used to this- the way he moved through the masses was a clear indication of that.

Soon he had pulled you into the kitchen where it was much less crowded than you figured it would be.  You would think since all the liquid was stored here, it would be a madhouse, but only a few bodies stood around sipping from the typical red cup with rosey, drunken cheeks.  The music had dulled back in the kitchen, so a conversation wasn't totally out of the question.  You placed your hand on your chest and sighed at the room to actually breathe.

Jimin, beside you, chuckled as he rubbed your back between your shoulder blades.

"you really aren't cut out for tight spaces, doll."  You glared at him.

"Oh, so you just now realize that you moron?" He only chuckled as he whipped out his phone and sent a text to someone.  Just one text, as opposed to an hours earlier when he was texting anyone and everyone nonstop in sequence.

No soon was Jackson waltzing into the kitchen.  JImin watched as you seemed to lighten up at the face of someone so familiar to you.  Jackson sauntered out with a smile, nearly jogging at he bumped into your side with his own.  Wearing a snapback and some jersey with a pair of old, acid washed jeans, he looked like a jock ripped straight out of some gross teen-movie.

His breath stunk of booze, but he was still partially sober.  He could hold his alcohol better than you thought he could, to be honest. You pushed away his cheek that was far too close to your face to get the radiant smell of beer away from your nose.

"you're gross and smell, get away from me you sweaty-"

"Do not insult me when I know for a fact you're so ready to shit bricks."

You gaped at him as you smacked the back of his head, making him whine and wince as he rubbed it.  Sure you were nervous being here, but you weren't that nervous.  You crossed your arms as you pouted, Jimin once again finding a sense of adorableness between you and Jackson's interactions.

"I hate you," you muttered as Jackson feigned hurt.  He dropped his act as he playfully slapped your ass, making you squeak before he turned to Jimin.

"How'd you get Straight-Lace-Y/n out of her room on a Friday my man?  I gotta know, for future reference of course."

"You would never believe how easy she is to persuade if you say the right things."  Jackson gasped.

"You didn't make some sketchy deal did you?!"  You squawked as Jackson quickly pulled you against his chest, nearly knocking you over in his haste as he practically hissed as Jimin.  "Don't be touching my little Y/n! She's way too young!"  You whined.

"I'm only a few years younger than you!"  Jimin didn't know how old you were exactly, but if you were younger than Jackson, you were around his age then?  Jimin just shook his head as he slipped his thumbs through the front belt loops of his pants, leaning back just enough for it to almost be attractive.  Almost.

"I won't disclose our agreement with someone who didn't witness it.  Clients secrecy."

"Stop!" You grumbled.  "That makes it seem so bad!"  Jimin laughed as the three of you soon took to sticking in your little group and chatting.  Jimin had finally got you to loosen up enough to at least have one cup of something to drink.  Beer wasn't typically your thing, but after not being impressed with the rest of the liquor lineup, it wasn't so bad in comparison.

Eventually, you seemed to even start enjoying yourself.  Playfully quipping at anything Jackson or Jimin had to say and even smiling or laughing at some dumbass joke that came out of one of their mouths. Jimin laid off the alcohol for the most part, as he was your ride home and he may be wild, but drunk driving is definitely not his main game.

Soon, Jackson abandoned ship and Jimin had begun to wander around and meet of people he knew, all while you remain attached at his side with his hand over yours.  True to his word, he never once left you on your own the whole night and when Jimin finally suggested you go back to your dorm it was well past midnight.  You didn't want to stay out this late, but you weren't particularly fussed about it either.

Weaving back around passed out drunks, far too attached couples and still dancing troopers, Jimin and you ended up back outside and across the lawn to his motorcycle where it had sat parked all night.

As he placed his helmet on his head and climbed on, you followed he flipped up his visor to look at you.

"It wasn't so bad, now was it?" His muffled voice asked.  You rolled your eyes, hating to admit that anything Park Jimin did for you was actually enjoyable unlike you previously thought.

"It wasn't awful, but don't expect this to happen a second time, Park." After dropping you off and making sure you got into your room safe and sound at ten after 1AM, he drove back home.  He lived in an apartment off campus, well off enough to afford it before he needed to get back into the part-time job department of life.

Stripping free of his party clothes and swapping them out for sweats and a thin, stretched out grey shirt, he flopped onto his bed.  Realizing two things. One, you still had his leather jacket and two, he hadn't stopped smiling since you wrapped your arms around his waist on the way back to your home.

You were rudely awoken the next morning at 10AM with your phone that blared for the 4th time beside your head.  Groaning, you grabbed the stupid piece of screaming plastic that continued to ring and finally looked at the screen.  Though it was sunny outside, your blackout curtains in your room made sure to keep that pesky sunlight out, so the screen brightness did little to no good on your retinas.  

Unknown Calling…

You squinted at your screen.  Who was calling you? Sighing, as soon as the call dropped for the 4th time, you noticed that the same number had been the same one to call previously.  Rolling lazily onto your chest, your blankets tangling around your legs as your you felt your hair tangled around your neck and around your ears.  You stared at the black screen of your phone, as you were testing a hypothesis. True to your suspicious, the screen lit up as your ringtone blasted for the 5th time.  

Answering it seemed to be your only option at this point.  Five back to back calls was way too excessive to be some random coincidence. Swiping to answer it, you pushed your hair out of the way and placed your phone by your ear.

“Hello?” You answered the best you could with sleep still thick in your voice.  

“Your sleep schedule is awful.  It’s been like, what? Nine hours and your ass in still in bed?” You groaned as you flopped onto your back.

“How did you get my number, Jimin?”

“Take a wild guess?” He teased.  Obviously, it was Jackson.  You muttered a ‘snake’ under your breath as Jimin chuckled into the line.  “Get up, we’re going out.”  You blinked at your dark ceiling.  

“And if I said no?”

“Then I’ll come bang on your dorm door again. I’m already sitting outside the campus dorms.  It’s not too long of a trip up the stairs Y/n.”  You groaned again knowing full well that Jimin absolutely meant it.  “No?”

“Fine, give me like 15 minutes.”

“15?!”

“Don’t push me,” you cut as you hung up on him. Tossing your phone aside,  you crawled out of bed with a whine as you wobbled around your room, trying to wake up enough to wash your face before getting dressed.  

Jimin stood at the curb of the dormitory, leaning against a light pole.  He watched as you cut the call off and your number faded from his phone screen.  Shaking his head, he pocketed his phone as he took a breath out.  Part of him was wondering what he was doing?

He could’ve made other plans today, but he didn’t.  Rather, he didn’t want to.  He fell asleep with you on the brain and woke up the same exact way.  After texting Jackson all morning, trying to pry information out of him and successfully doing so with the promise of a week’s worth of lunch on him, he finally got your number out of him too.  So, the calling began.  

He was rather shocked it only took 5 calls to wake you up.  He laughed to himself as he plucked his phone from his pocket and sent you a text before you came down.  

Jimin: Bring my jacket back, I miss it. :((

He laughed out loud when you shot back nothing but the middle finger emoji.  What a highschooler move.  It was chilly out today.  The clouds kept hiding the sun as they rolled under the light, only letting brief spots of warmth out at a time.  A small breeze was in the air as Spring had just begun with the promise of rain in the afternoon no doubt.  

His blue jeans and hot pink hoodie stood out, yes, but he was proud of that fact. His hair free of a cap lifted with each small gust of wind.  It was exactly 17 minutes when he saw you walking out of the dormitory, a red flannel purse on your hip. His jacket on your shoulders with a black shirt with the picture of a cat on the breast pocket and a pair of blue shorts.  Your hair was down, without anything covering or added to it.  

Part of him didn’t want the jacket back now.

When you got to him, the first thing you did was greet him with a harsh stomp on his foot with your shoes.  He whined as his thin converses did nothing to guard his foot against your heel.

“What was that for?!”

“Calling me five times and then proceeding to force me out of my dorm on a Saturday!”  You argued as you huffed and crossed your arms. “As punishment for stealing my lazy day, I’m keeping your jacket until I return home.”  He grinned, he wasn’t totally against that.  

“Have it your way,” he was easy to give him.

“What did you want anyway?”  He stood back up and swayed to your side.

“A week.”

“Pardon?”

“A little birdie told me that you can’t believe I can go a week with one person.  So, I’d be honored if you took me up on the challenge to so spitefully requested of me.” You shivered in mock disgusted.  “Hey!”

“Calm down, Queenie,” you teased with a grin of your own.  “I actually meant that towards all your flings, but sure.  If you think you can handle a week of me arguing leaving my room, by all means, give it a whirl.” Jimin looked at you with questions in his eyes.  “What now?”

“You gave in waaay too easy, Y/n.”  

“Yeah, well if I declined, I have a suspicion you’d whine to Jackson, who in turn would whine to me and I’m not really up for any more of that than I have to deal with on the daily.” He smiled as he pushed playfully on your shoulder, making you smile again.

“Look at you! Already guessing and knowing my habits.  We’re basically best friends already!”

“Don’t let Jackson hear you.  That will also result in whining.”

“Duly noted.”

Soon, Jimin had started walking around in random locations towards the city.  Something about wanting to window shop and making you come along with him.  You watched when he pulled out a Zippo lighter with a small, nearly empty pack of cigarettes directly off campus.  You rose your brow when you asked him about it.  He was a smoker, but he was in the middle of trying to quit.  He had slowed down from a pack in two days to only a few smokes in that time.  He wanted to pace himself until he cut them off completely.  Ht told you once this pack was done, he would try not to buy any more.

You then started offering him solutions to cravings.  Candies or small habits were a good way to get the urge to smoke off the brain.  Or, if he absolutely found himself not able to quit, e-cigarettes surely weren’t so bad.  Expensive, but not an awful half solution. He took your suggestions to heart, not actually expecting you to take that topic and run with it.  

He had snuffed out the bud when you both got closer to the shopping strip of stores after stores with a cafe on nearly every corner.  It was always busy during the weekend, and Jimin had a feeling you didn’t get to shop often.  The way you seemed to light up and become more bouncy at the idea of maybe actually getting something for yourself today was proof of that.

You both went to store after store with enough coffee breaks to power an engine.  Eventually, Jimin had walked into some indie store, more than curious about the odd patterns he saw in the display window.  You trailed after him, winding through aisles and stopped when you saw a small charm necklace.

The necklace itself wasn’t the best and the chain was weak enough that if you pulled just a bit too hard or it snagged in anything it would surely break. But, it wasn’t that which intrigued you.  It was the pendant itself.

It was a small dandelion. It’s small, metal puffs pushing out in the circle as it if you blew just hard enough the puffs would scatter. Jimin stopped when he noticed you weren’t tailing him anymore, turning to see you bent over and looking at it.  He backtracked to stand at your side, hands in his pockets as he observed it with you.

“You like this?”

You nodded.  “I do.  Dandelions are my favorite flower.  I don’t really like when they bloom into the yellow ones, Jackson used to pluck those and smear it’s pollen all over my arms when we met.  I do like the wish ones those.”

“Wish ones?”

“Yeah, the ones you make a wish on.  If you find one like this,” you poked at the necklace, “and you make a wish, you have to blow as hard as you can.  If you manage to get all the seeds to blow off, then your wish is supposed to come true.” You chuckled at yourself.  “It’s all fairy tale sounding, but you can’t deny its got its romantic side.”

“Huh, who knew an everyday weed is so meaningful to other people.”  You stood up as you huffed.  

“I’ve seen moms get mad at their kids for pulling dandelions and giving them to them as gifts.  They’re not weeds, so just accept them!”  You pouted as Jimin laughed.  You spun on your heel as you trotted off, Jimin watching your back as you disappeared behind some racks of clothing. He rolled his eyes at your dramatic march off as he stood up and followed you, not before grabbing the necklace though. 5$ isn’t too much to spend.

After he secretly purchased the necklace, he placed the small pouch it was in promptly into your purse when the two of you were at yet another cafe while you were in the bathroom.  Apparently, this specific cafe stop was for you to pee, as you had decided that a whole soliloquy about how your bladder was about to burst was absolutely necessary.  It wasn’t. When you returned, all you did two was chat like old friends who knew each other since you were in diapers.

Jimin wasn’t nearly as awful as you thought, and part of you felt guilty for judging him so quickly.  Sure, his reputation was a bit black, but the boy himself was a sweetheart, and you made sure to offer him an apology and a chocolate chip muffin as compensation for your rotten attitude.

Day by day went on and as classes rolled on, Jimin would walk you to and from class, pick you up from your dorm and drop you off and even bring you lunchtime coffee just because you couldn’t say no to something he already paid for.

Eventually, the dawn of day 6 in the week broke and Jimin had called up Jackson.  Telling you that he had something planned to do and that he would see you tomorrow.  He had grown so used to hanging around you, a stab of pain hit him when you replied back to him with an ‘ok :(‘.  You were far too cute he reasoned as he put the back of his hand against his mouth as you added on a ‘you owe me, Park >:(‘ to your message.  

Jimin: I owe you? For what spoilt brat

You: For leaving me alone to drown in boredom.  How dare you??

Jimin: It was literally just last week you were biting my head off for dragging you out of your room. Now your complaining that I have something to do without you?  My my my, how they grow up so fast. Bless

You: Choke and die.  I’m going to take a nap

Jimin: It’s 8AM don’t sleep and mess up your schedule!

You: YOU CAN’T CONTROL ME PARK

Jimin: Y/N!

You: JIMIN!

Jimin: Stay. Awake.

You: …

You: Fine.  Guess I’ll play Overwatch by myself

Jimin: Ew, who plays Overwatch?

You: yOU-

H laughed when you stopped replying.  Whether or not you actually started playing or went back to sleep was a mystery to him as he walked out of his apartment to meet with Jackson.  Jimin wanted to ask him a few things before the end of the week came.  He also had a few woes to lay on your best friend's shoulders.

A game of basketball was what Jimin had planned for the day with Jackson.  Going to the public gym and meeting Jackson with sports gear and a basketball in hand, the man-to-man day would begin.  

Jimin, walking onto the courts with his sports shorts and tank top watched as Jackson lazily threw baskets in a jersey and sweats. Dribbling the ball, he passed it to the smaller man who met him on the court.  Jimin, dribbling it around and getting a feel for it watched as Jackson crossed his arm before he stretched.  

“Really, Jimin? Basketball?” Jimin rolled his eyes.  

“Listen, I have a friend who aces in basketball, so shut up.” It started with the boy just taking turns shooting before a small match of one on one began.  Squeaking shoes on the floor with heavy breaths filled the nearly empty Thursday noon-time gym.  Lay-ups were shot left and right, 3-pointers and of course, the ever dreaded airball followed by laughing at the lame excuse of a shot all came with the game.  Soon, the two men were sat on the far wall, sweat covered and drinking out of water bottles purchased from the vending machine outside the doors.

“Now that the exercise part of the day is done, what is it you wanted?” Jackson asked. Turning towards Jimin taking a drink of water as Jimin craned his head up at the dim lights that definitely were going to go out soon.

“I think I have a crush on Y/n,” Jimin yelped when Jackson spit out his water on Jimin’s lap.  “Thanks for the shower, jackass!” Jackson coughed as he wiped at his chin while Jimin shook his shorts and his arms disgusted.  

“I can totally help you confess!” Jimin looked at his friend. “I’ve got this whole scene I’ve been cooking up for her lucky future boyfriend since like freshman year.  I’d spent a lot of time on this, and you- my lucky man- are gonna be the one to do it!”

“You’re okay with it?” Jimin asked, his voice skyrocketing as he barely spoke in a whisper. Jackson only shrugged as he put his back against the wall again and took a more steady drink since his last attempt ended covering Jimin.

“Yeah, why not?  Sure, you were a sleazy a week ago-”

“Hey!”

“-But, it seems like you get along with Y/n. And she’s not just gonna snub you once the weekends because that’s what you said in the beginning.”

“She told you about that?” That was true, Jimin had only planned on staying with you a week, but now he wanted an extended date.  Permanently if he had the option.

“Of course she did dude.  Look, so long as she doesn’t call me up one day bawling because you did something to her, I have no reason to knock your lights out.”  Jimin shuttered.  He wasn’t unfamiliar with the strength Jackson possessed.  He didn’t fight often, normally pretty laid back and easy going, but he’s heard rumors.  All focus solely around you and how you were picked on freshman year of college.  He got suspended for 2 weeks, but you weren’t picked on anymore.

Jimin looked at his lap as he moved and stuck out his pinky.  He remembered the party night and how serious you were about a small pinky promise.  Then, that thought somehow shifted to how you seemed to take dandelions seriously.  Jimin sighed as he turned back to Jackson, sitting cross-legged and at the utmost attention.

“Alright, tell me what I’m gonna do about this.”  A grin broke out on Jackson’s face as he clapped Jimin on the shoulder.

“Buckle in, Park.  This is gonna be one romantic fuckin’ ride.”

It was Friday as you sat in the library, reading and rereading the same paragraph in your textbook.  It was like your brain wasn’t registering the words, no matter how many times to read them over and over again.  You’d get halfway through, realize you clocked out only to repeat the process. You sighed as you slammed your head into the books fold and someone slid into the seat next to you.  

They rubbed your neck as you whined at your lame attempt at actually studying.  Turning your head and blowing your hair out of your face just enough to see who sat next to you, you weren’t entirely shocked to see Jimin. In his comfortable college dressed glory and his leather jacket, you had finally returned to him. His arm propped on the table as his palm held his chin. He was smiling, probably laughing at your obvious lack of concentration.

“Howdy, bookworm.” You rolled your eyes at him as you planted your face back into the book that smelt far too old to be a 2018 edition of World History. He chuckled again at you. “You know, you can always ditch the books?”  

“I’m so close to almost not having a B in this class it’s laughable.  I’ve never gone below that!” You whined, quietly of course as the librarian was a soundhound when it came to any loud noise ever.  She’s search out the source of the sound like a dog and quickly take to eliminate it.  You’ve been kicked out more than once in your attempts to studying turned to whines.

Jimin rolled his eyes.  Ever the drama queen.  His hand moved from your neck to treading through your hair and massaging your scalp.

“Let me rephrase,” he stopped and started again. “How about you stop for the day, hang out with me and then maybe I’ll help you study later.”  You sat up briefly, his hand remaining on the back of your head as you looked at him like a puppy dog would when offered treats.

“Can we get snacks?” You pouted and Jimin smiled enough his eyes began to close.  Patting your head, he nodded.

“Yes, we can get snacks, you big baby.”  You smiled as you sprung up and slammed your book shut, wincing on how loud the action was before you shoved it in your bag.  Jimin stole your bag before you could pick it up yourself and you pouted when he refused to give it to you. “Let me be a gentleman, Y/n.”

“You? A gentleman? Like you? As in Park Jimin who smokes and drinks?”

“I’m trying to stop smoking, you know that.”  

You nodded, pointing a finger at him.  “Ah, yes, good point.  I revoke that accusation then.” He just pulled up on his lips as he grabbed your hand and dragged you out of the library, stopping by your locker to ditch your bag inside it and then dragged you to a small convenience store to stock up on the snacks of your choosing.

However, you felt a bit bad when Jimin snatched your wallet from you when you went to grab your card and handed the cashier his instead.  You stomped and whined, but he was adamant that the bill was his to foot. You guilt was short lived when he placed the plastic bag of snacks in your arms though so you could offer him one of your marshmallowy-goodness cereal bars.  His payment for footing the payment.

Jimin gladly accepted this.

He convinced you to come back to his home so he could get out his bike, as he had told you he wanted to take you somewhere.  Not sure where he was going, you were half sure he was gonna take you someone and murder you with how sappy he’s been all afternoon, but also half as sure that he wouldn’t.  With a laugh and a promise to not kill you from his mouth, you decided to trust him.

“If you do kill me though, I’m so haunting you so think wisely,” you warned as you climbed onto his bike, your bag of snacks in a holding compartment under the seat as you sat behind him and wrapped your arms around his waist.  

You always just held onto his shirt, to offer him as much space as you could as you literally clung to him not to fly off while he zooms down the road. Though, before he even kicked up the stand, he pulled your hands from his shirt and tucked you close to his back.  He made you clasp your hands together at his stomach, saying it was ‘safe’ though he’s never said that before.

Taking a breath to cool down your heated face, you could see his stupid smile in his eyes as he flicked down the visor on his helmet and kicked up the stand before revving away.  

He took you down some country roads before an hour passed and he stopped when he was at an open field with a small farmhouse not too far off in the distance.  The cattle were off in a group as you could see their small black and white bodies look like ants from how far they were from the two of you.

“Are you sure we can be here?” you questioned when Jimin took off his helmet and ran his hand through his hair.  You hated when he did that, how dare he do that multiple times over and not be aware of it or his attractiveness skyrocket when he does.  Damn frat boy.

“Yeah.  I got a friend of a friend’s permission to be here.  It’s all cool.  We’re not trespassing so come on.” You swung your leg back over the motorcycle before Jimin linked his arm with yours and began to walk off, setting his helmet on his bike seat and not forgetting to grab your snacks either.  

The two of you just walked around.  Treading through the grass and making sure not to step on any flowers of innocent bees doing their hard work of collecting pollen.  Though, Jimin did wave and scare off a wasp once or twice. Which was dumb because that only resulted in the bug buzzing angrily after the two of you before it gave up.

Eventually, you both came to a grove of trees.  They were tall and proud.  You had no doubt they had taken years upon years to grow up to this level of brilliance.  It was just the right time in spring in flowers flew from the treetops and the green returned to the leaves. The wind that knocked the flower petals around was like a cinematic effect.  

Jimin was quick to plonk himself down at the base of one of the trees, sitting cross-legged while unloading your snacks.  Bags of chips, plastic bins of cookies, small individual wraps of brownies and of course some soda to tied you two over while you feasted.  Definitely not healthy, but oh so worth it.

The two of you sat under the tree as ate while you talked more.  It was strange that Jimin and you never ran out of things to talk about.  Any quiet gap between the conversation was quickly filled because all you two were doing was chalking up more conversations to have.  It was comfortable and the air around it made it seem like Jimin enjoyed it more than you did.

“Oh! I forgot, Jackson told me that you have a tattoo!” Jimin ticked his brow up at two things.  Yes, he did, but how did Jackson know that?  Then he remembered just who Jackson Wang was: Gossip Farm Member No.1. “How dare keep secrets in this relationship.  I demand a refund of time and lies.” Jimin shoved at your shoulder as he shrugged off his leather jacket, leaving him in a navy shirt.

“How about I show you and we can forget all about that refund?”

“If you whip your dick out and show me some weird cockring tattoo, please forget it.”  He laughed, nearly falling onto your lap as you braced his back. “I’m serious!” You cried in your own laughter.  He shook his head, putting the back of his hand against his face and looking at the sky through the tree’s leaves.  

“I cannot believe you sometimes.”  He swung his jacket around your shoulders.  “It’s on my rib cage, so hold my jacket for me.  I don’t want to get it all grassy.” You’d complain, but you did have a soft spot for this jacket. So, you slipped your arms through the sleeves and huffed in peace as the jacket warmed you up from Jimin’s body previous being in it.

Jimin slipped one of his arms back through the short sleeve of his shirt as it appeared under the bottom of it and pushed it up to reveal his torso.  The sharp, black ink of NEVERMIND engraved on his ribs. You awed at it.  It was something you wouldn’t expect to be on Jimin, yet the idea and the look of it suited him so well it was almost painful.

“Honestly, if you keep springing these attractive attributes on me I’m going to cry.” Jimin rolled his eyes as he- instead of putting it back on- removed his shirt altogether.  Showing you his back where a spade tattooed lay between his shoulders.  “Another one?!” He chuckled.

“You said not to spring it on you,” he slyly remarked as he watched your face heat up.  “What, too attractive?  Come to think, did you back-handedly compliment me a moment ago?”

“No. Shut your trap you stupid college frat.”

“You’re very good at sending compliments like insults.”

“Ugh, fine!  You’re attractive- is your ego gloated enough now?” He smirked as he took his shirt and threw it around your neck, dragging you closer to him. Your breath caught when he bumped his nose against your, scanning your face like a computer would a test sheet to make sure a No. 2 leaded pencil was used.

“It’s can be inflated a bit more, truth be told.” He watched your eyes switch between his own. “Remember what you told me about dandelions? How they make wishes come true?” You nodded. “Good,” he breathed before he kissed you.  He eased his shirt from around your neck when you didn’t fight or push him away.  He pushed down on you, pushing you further against the trunk of the tree as the sun made the shadows of the leaves dance.  

It was like the shimmering of the sea on your skin as he cracked open his eyes when he pulled away from you just long enough for you to grip the back of his head, entangling your fingers in his hair and pull him straight back.  He wasn’t complaining, smiling as the kiss became fervent.

He didn’t know how long he spent hunched over you in an intense lip lock, and frankly, he didn’t really care either.  Though, there is one thing from the Park Jimin a week ago that wasn’t snuffed out.  The playboy heartbreaker surely died, as you killed him within less than a week.  However, his tolerance and patience when it came to things that looked to become more heated than not, was still at an all-time low.  

He whined as he forced himself away from you, watching as your kiss-swollen lips breathed harsh air out in gasps and your face was as red as the blood rushing to them.  He chuckled as he kissed the tip of your nose and from previous knowledge of seeing it earlier, moved back from you and plucked a dandelion that sat behind him at the base of the tree trunk.

Jimin turned to you and held it in front of your face before he smiled and blew on it.  All the seeds scattering onto your face and into your hair as it left the stem bare. You blew out your lips, trying to make sure no seeds were unsightly inhaled at his assault.  

He laughed again.  “Wanna know what I wished for?”

You plucked seed after white seed out of your hair before you looked up at him as he tossed the stem over his shoulder. “You can’t tell.  That’s literally rule number 1 of wish making.  Telling someone the wish makes it void and it can’t come true!” You pouted.  “Though, I am curious.”

He smiled as he moved and pinched your side.  He kept pinching you until you got to your knees before he grabbed your waist and dragged you over to him.  You walking clumsily on your knees found yourself sat forcefully on Jimin’s thighs as he intertwined his fingers behind your back.

He pouted cutely at you as his blond hair was like that of the sun.

“I wished you would kiss me again.”

“You’re awfully cocky,” you replied with that same crimson on your face.

“I didn’t hear a no?”

“You didn’t, because you know damn well I’m not gonna say no!”

“It’s not nice to yell at your boyfriend who bought you snacks and only wants a kiss or two.”

“You’re actually the worst.”

“Kiss me!”

“Why should I?” You teased as he pushed his knees up, making you fall closer to his chest.  

“The dandelion said so,” so he laughed and kissed you again for certainly not the last time.

-END-

[hollands-poppet]

Don’t Make Me Choose// Chapter 4

Mob!Tom Holland and Mob!Harrison Osterfield AU series

A/N: YOU GUYS! IT’S LITERALLY BEEN MONTHS SINCE I’VE POSTED! I’VE BEEN WORKING ON THIS CHAPTER FOR SO LONG, I THOUGHT I WAS NEVER GONNA GET IT OUT! BUT I’M SO HAPPY THIS IS COMING OUT. I LOVE THIS STORY SO MUCH THAT I’M TRYING MY BEST TO FINISH IT. -AMY 

Word Count: 4.3K 💛

Warnings: angsty, alcohol abuse, italics is flashback, I didn’t proofread this at all

Chapter 1  Chapter 2 Chapter 3 

playlist💛

-

For the past couple of weeks, Haz has been nervous to even be around his best friend and Y/N. He was nervous about randomly getting killed by his best friend because of what happened between him and his wife. The kiss that was shared between them was sacred at this point.

Harrison had spent the next couple of weeks Taking care of the hits that he was assigned and also going to therapy. I’m top of that he was stressed out that Y/N was going to tell Tom about what happened between them. But she also spared his life by not talking about it out loud in the kitchen a couple weeks ago. He knew that she wanted to protect him just as much as he wanted to protect himself.

It was wrong, the kiss was wrong. The thing that makes him question is mind is that he didn’t initiate the kiss itself. Y/N did. But she was also emotional and she was just acting on those emotions. Right?

Harrison type away on his laptop as he took notes on inventory that Tom needed that night.

And suddenly you got that it’s only always gets right underneath his throat. The itch that only meant that he wanted alcohol in his system. Fuck, he missed drinking so much. He licks his lip as he craves the taste of work on his tongue, and that’s when he remembers about his secret stash. And suddenly it’s like he became parched, he wanted some liquor.  

He got from his office desk and started to snoop around his office. Harrison remembered hiding it in one of the cabinets when he hears someone clear their throat.

“I already threw out the booze, mate.” Tom remarks as he pulls out a post it note and begins to scribble some important things down. While the brunette is still looking down at his pen and paper, the blonde brings his hand into his palm and squeezes it tightly. His support group said it would be normal to want to relapse but it didn’t mean he should.

Before Tom rips the post it note from the stack, he looks up and notices that his friend is lost in thought and decides to break him out of his train of thought, “You alright mate? You’ve been acting strange lately..have you relapsed?”

And to be quite honest, Harrison wanted to relapse so fucking bad. To Haz drinking alcohol and the fact that he didn’t have it anymore was like taking him away from someone that he loved. Not like he wasn’t already experiencing already with an actual person but alcohol sure came close to that, it numbed so much pain and he really did love it.

In Tom’s defense though, his best friend was acting quite strange and it was a mixture of things. It was Harrison trying to build back everything from giving into his addiction. If he could he wouldn’t have picked up that old fashion that one night at the bar that Bella had bought him. That’s where his problem really began because that same night he witnessed Tom and Y/N have their first kiss.

Their first fucking kiss really triggered Harrison and the more he drank that night it helped him forget. Well, at least temporarily just like everything he tried to drown out with his booze.

Haz clears his throat and rubs the back of his neck with his palm, “No, mate. I’ve just…”

I’ve kissed your wife.

And then Haz couldn’t even finish his sentence because he really did almost let it slip. He just took a seat in the chair in front of Tom’s desk and he buried his face into his palms. It was like all these loose ends he thought he had cut off were coming back but he never tied them, just simply put them to the side.

Tom got up from his desk because he knew that his best friend was feeling some type of way. Little did he know that his best friend had a deeper secret than he knew. He makes his way to the blonde’s side and rests his palm on his shoulder, “Listen…” There is a beat and a sigh escapes his mouth before he continues, “I’m not being hard on you just to be an asshole...I’m honestly only protecting you from hurting yourself again.”

I’m still hurting.

Haz stops bouncing his anxious foot as he notices his friend’s genuine concern for him. It made him feel only worse about picking up drinking so heavily but he knew his best friend had his best interest in mind just as he always has. That’s why he also can’t help but feel even more terrible for doing this to Tom.

And thats when Tom’s conscience begins to bug him because he didn’t notice the signs sooner. The brunette clears his throat as he adjusts his tie, “Haz, I just want to tell you something.”

Once the blonde hears those words, his palms begin to dampen in sweat because he thinks that Tom is suspicious. He thinks that Tom knows about what happened between him and Y/N but he could just be paranoid. Unless.. Y/N happened to spill the beans about what happened between them but she wouldn’t. She wouldn’t even make eye contact with him the last interactions they had, he knew she was trying to protect him.

Tom leans forward from his desk and crosses his arms, “You know about Y/N…”

And Haz begins to pray in his head, he really thought Tom was going to shoot his brains out right here and right now. But that wasn’t going to happen, in fact the lead monster wanted to apologize to his friend.

But before he could, there was a knock on the door that almost startled Haz to immediately to jump up from his chair.

“Who is it?” Tom asks as he heads towards the door.

“James, sir.”

James was one of Tom’s main bodyguards, he was around but not really because he was always out on watch. And this was one of those moments that the head mobster knew it wasn’t good that he was knocking on the door. If he was, that meant bad news.

-

-

Y/N stares at herself in the life size mirror in her walk in closet, a beautiful off- the-shoulder sequin dress hangs on to her body tightly as she looks at herself over the shoulder.

“This dress is pretty basic compared to the one last year, Bella.” She says as she turns back at her friend who is sitting on the floor next to the 12 other dresses she’s already tried on.

“Well, this is all that Donatella was able to send in.” Bella purses her lips as she pulls out her phone, knowing that Y/N was going to make a request.

Y/N looks back in the mirror and contemplates the dress, “Can you see if Dior could possibly make something custom? Per the request of Tom Holland.”

And this was always the perk that Y/N loved about being married into the mob, her husband’s name could get her anything she needed.

Bella smirks as she begins to write it into her notes, “I’m sure they won’t mind doing this favor for Mrs.Holland.”

For some reason, that stung Y/N so much because she knew that she had cheated on her husband not too long ago. But why? Out of being upset? Or did she really truly love Haz? Was at an act out of spite for her and her husband’s pointless fight?

She didn’t know and she was on edge because she knew Bella and Haz had a thing or something like that. So, she didn’t even feel comfortable telling Bella anything and let alone Robyn because she would definitely spill the tea.

Y/N had to keep this secret to herself, and as insane as this sounds she knew she loved both of them...if that was even possible. But she couldn’t figure it out, she could never because it would only put her and Haz in danger.

It’s not like she didn’t love Tom, it was just another side of her emotions that she would never explore and maybe it was for the best. The universe brought her and Tom together for a reason.

“Y/N?”

And then Y/N is snapped out of it by her husband’s voice, and he is also accompanied by Haz who she has been trying to avoid since that night. The brunette makes his way towards her, “So, we’ve got a problem.”

Before he continues, he stops about in inch and inspects the dress for a quick second, “Is this the dress you’ll be wearing to the ball?”

Y/N lets out a small smile and turns back to the mirror, “No, it’s just not the vibe this year to be honest.” And she crosses her arms, biting her bottom lip in disapproval.

Tom creeps up behind her and wraps his arm around her waist, his fingertips slowly rubbing across her arms, “You still look gorgeous in it, darling.” His lips kissing her shoulder and his Chen resting right by her neck, it felt nice. This moment reminded her why she fell in love with him, his charm was everything.

She closes her eyes for what feels like forever because she’s so caught up that as soon as she opens them eye contact is made with Harrison. She could see the bitterness in his piercing blue eyes, his jaw clenching in jealousy.

At that point, Bella felt some time of need to excuse herself and even thought to take Haz our if there, “Harrison, can you help me with something?”

The blonde is knocked out of his trance by his on and off lover, “Yeah, no problem.” But he did have one, at least not with her.

Within seconds they were gone from the room, eye contact not being broken between Y/N and Haz til he was out of the room. Tom was too busy caressing his wife to even notice the eye contact in the mirror.

Y/N turns around still in Tom’s embrace, her hands crossing behind his neck with her fingers intertwined. “You said there was a problem, love?”

Tom leaves a kiss on her forehead and lets out a sigh, his lips pressing together tight.

“Remember that guy I dumped in the river about a few months ago?”

Y/N rolls her eyes and nods, “I mean, not my favorite memory but yes I do.”

Tom sighs as his hand starts to move up her waist, “Well, we unknowingly killed the son of my main enemy, love.”

Y/N pulls away, her hands still resting on his shoulders, “So what does that mean?”

Tom moves a hair strand out of her face and behind her ear, “It means that we need to be extra careful because we’re being watched. Harrison will be with you 24/7 when I’m not.”

Y/N immediately froze, she hasn’t been alone with Harrison for a long time..not since.. not since that kiss. It was going to be weird, so fucking weird.

“Are you alright, love?” Tom asks, he doesn’t even know what Y/N could even be worried about.

She bites her bottom lip, “you know, I can take care of myself.” And Tom knew that, he knew had married a tough, independent woman but he couldn’t take chances right now especially with a mob potentially just as dangerous as his.

“I know that darling but we can’t take the chance, I can’t risk losing you.” His hand caresses her cheek as he pulls their noses together, “I would never forgive myself if I lost you.”

Tom and Y/N’s eyes are locked as they both stare in deep into each other’s eyes. And this is how Y/N knew she was in love with Tom, the way he showed his love and the way he made love. She was a part of him now and if he she died, he died with her. She becomes a little choked up as she takes a small breath, “When are you gonna let me take care of you, hm?”

His hands pull her in closer, his grasp deep around her waist causing a chill down her spine, “Just promise me something, yeah?”

Y/N nods while their foreheads still touch, “Anything...what is it?”

“If anything happens to me, promise me you won’t mourn over me? You’ll move on, and even if I’m gone-”

In a second Y/N pulls away, the romantic moment over from the minute that Tom started speaking his thoughts, “No, nothing will!” Her voice rising a bit than before, “How can you say something like that?”

Tom runs his hand through his curls as one hand lays on his hip, “I just want to prepare you for the worse..you’re married to-”

“I know who I’m married to, and the person I’m married wouldn’t say these foolish things.” She begins to sob as the thoughts of even losing her husband flood her mind, she couldn’t believe this.

As she begins to release the water works, he approaches her “I’m not saying it’s actually going to happen, just if it does happen.”

Y/N stares at the ground as she contemplates his words, he was right. She knew who she did marry, a mobster who chased and was always being chased and being his wife came with that burden.

“No ifs, okay? Just don’t do that to me.” She moves into his arms again, “you can’t..you just can’t.”

Tom kisses her forehead and lifts up her chin, “I’ll never leave you.” His lips meet hers for the first time that day and they stay together like that for a moment.

-

-

Y/N and Tom made love that night, it was actually quite needed for both sides. And in fact, Y/N knew it was what she needed, it was more than confirmation of who she loved but it also opened her eyes to a lot of things.

And that first thing was talking to Harrison, and the thought of confronting him made her stomach turn every time because they were best friends. Although he was technically Tom’s best friend, there were times that Haz had been there for her when Tom wasn’t.

Not to make Tom sound like an asshole but just for random things for when he wasn’t there like taking her to the market, fixing up her makeup when it smeared or even just waking her up when she slept into late.

They got along so well and Y/N just shakes her head at the thought of even jeopardizing their friendship and lives for a second of lust. She runs a tube of a nude lipstick across her lips, her hair slicked back into a ponytail with a green dress that Tom picked out for her.

She didn’t have any other reason for getting ready was other the fact she was going to have tea and she planned to drink tea with Harrison. She needed to talk to him but she was so nervous that she needed some tea to calm her.

Y/N gets up from her vanity chair and begins to make her way out the door and the down the stairs. The outfit that Y/N chose to wear was a bit more than just casual but it was also besides the fact that always wanted to look good. She also wanted to live up to her husband’s style, and she really made an effort to look just expensive as him.

Anyway, she continued her way down the stairs and looked around below her, in search of her friend. Y/N could feel her palm sweating as her had slid down the banister, she knew what had happened between them was triggering this random sweat.

-

Haz casually sat in the garden of the Holland residence which he just so happened to live in and it wasn’t because he couldn’t afford his own place but he could never genuinely enjoy living on his own. The constant being called upon by Tom for jobs and quick hits always brought him back to his friends mansion. The two eventually came to an agreement for Harrison to just move instead because he was always there about 23 hours of the day.

Haz sits in his thoughts as he overlooks the sunflowers that are spread out over the green, full of life garden. He remembers so vividly the day that the sunflowers were being planted.

“But darling, sunflowers? It’s a little…lame.”

Y/N twirls in her nightgown that is covered by her robes followed by a silly eye roll, “But they represent happiness, Love.” She smiles as she gives a glance at her husband as she looks back at him from over her shoulder, the sun highlighting her cheekbones just perfectly.

Haz watches the two communicate from the distance, he could tell that his best friend was not vibing with the girly flowers but the blonde wasn’t opposed to them. He thought they quite nice actually, he continued to watch.

The brunette scratched behind his ear, “It’s just not my style.” Tom says as he begins to pull a cigar from his pocket, the disappointment that Haz could see from the side of her face as her back was faced to Tom really struck a chord in his heart. He knew that if he were husband that he would just suck it up but his friend was very opinionated.

“Mate, they’re already planted..you should just leave them.” Harrison interferes, causing Tom to stop lighting his cigar and staring back at his friend. Almost like a death stare and it was because no one ever talked back to him.

Tom locked his jaw and blew out a puff of smoke, “So, you think we should keep these flowers?”

Haz gulps as he looks at Y/N who is now staring back at him, and now back at Tom who is waiting for an answer, “I mean//everyone can use a little happiness sometimes...it could be good for your home.”

He takes a look back at Y/N who has a small smile across her face, she was happy that Haz had defended her flowers.

“Beautiful aren’t they?”

Haz turns around the moment that he hears the familiar voice that makes him melt each time, she sounded so perfect. He swallows nervously as he responds,”Very.”

Y/N smiles at his response and walks toward the table with tray of tea with milk and sugar, “Can I sit?”

He nods as the awkward silence continues to grow heavy in the air, he clears his throat as he tries to break it, “Please...sit.”

Y/N smiles as she sets down the tray of tea and

takes the seat across from him, “I remember the day you defended those flowers..” She pours herself a cup of tea as she reminisces about the memory, “They really do bring happiness, don’t they?”

Haz smiles as he adjusts his turtleneck and nods, “Yes.”

Y/N can tell that he is nervous so she decides to just come out and say what she feels. She sets down the pot of tea and intertwines her fingers, “Harrison, I know what happened between us was-”

His blue eyes widen because even mentioning anything out loud jeopardized their lives, “Y/N-”

“No, let me finish. I wouldn’t be talking about this if I knew it wasn’t safe.” She remarks and she was right, now that he was with her 24/7 until Tom would arrive that means right now they were alone. All the security would travel with Tom and Haz would stay behind except for some security who would guard around the mansion.

“I hate that it’s weird between us. We used to be really close and I really want to be there for you as a friend.” She sighs as tears begin to rise, “I really wanted to be there for you when you fell sick from your addiction but I just pushed myself away but I’m ready to put it all behind us and be friends again.”

Harrison could see the apologeticness in her eyes, and even in her tone. He wanted nothing more than to move on as well, “Thank you.. I really appreciate that, Y/N.” They both smirk as a tear rolls down her eyes, “I’m glad I wasn’t the only one feeling that way.” He says as he reaches for the tea.

The silence is no longer heavy, the energy is

right as the two adults make their teas to their liking. Y/N stirs her tea as the wind blows through her ponytail, “So..what’s new?”

Haz takes a sip of his tea and sets it down, “Oh you know, just the casual support group meetings on top of work but it’s been okay...Bella and I have been getting close again which…” They both make eye contact, Y/N has always know about Haz and Bella having a thing and how Bella has never been able to lock him down.

“I’m happy about.. Bella has been good to me while I have been recovering.” For some reason that stung Y/N, she didn’t realize that she could’ve been there for him whether they were together or not.

“That’s good, Harrison. I’m happy to hear that she’s been there for your recovery.” Y/N smiles as she takes another sip at her tea.

The blonde smiles, “Thank you..but what about you? Anything new?”

Y/N runs her tongue across her bottom lip as she nods, “I’ve pretty much adjusted to married life..I’m honestly just scared that something is going to happen to us..to all of us.”

He sits up straight as he leans in, “What are you talking about? I’m here to protect you, Y/N.”

She nods her head as her smile turns into a frown, “I know but I’ve heard you and Tom talk and…” she take a pause as she feels her throat begin to burn from wanting to cry.

The two make eye contact, he notices her eye color begin to pop as the red from her tears begin to flood her eyes.

“It sounds so awful but it sounds really bad this time.” Y/N sobs out and immediately rests her forehead on her palm right after, “I’m just scared.”

Harrison looks down at his tea and then back up at his friend who he knows is scared shitless. His instinct is to bring his hand to her face and lift it from her palm. Her cheek rests in his palm as he wipes a tear that run down her cheek, “I- Tom and I are not going to let anything happen to you.”

Y/N lets out a hopeful smile and she doesn’t know what happens next but maybe she worked herself up with her emotions that she suddenly becomes nauseous and a bit dizzy.

“What’s going on here?”

The two turn from their positions to find Tom walking toward the both, and Haz’s hand immediately moves away from her face.

Y/N gets up from her seat and walks towards her husband, “Nothing, love. Harrison was just saying my face looks a bit pale..” she leans into give Tom a hug and a kiss, “I’m feeling a bit woozy so I’m going to go lie down.”

“Do you want me to go with you?” Tom asks as he brings his hands to her cheeks. She nods as she kisses his nose, “Yes, love. I’ll be upstairs lying down.”

She walks past Tom and even looks back to wave at Harrison which brings the brunette to look back at the blonde. For some reason, Haz begins to sweat and he knows it’s because he is getting nervous, he’s always felt that Tom suspected something.

Tom take the seat that Y/N was before and if Haz were to know the truth, he hasn’t suspected anything. But he did want to reveal something to his best friend.

“Listen Haz,” he blows out another puff. The two make eye contact as the wind blows through there stiff, gelled hair. “I just want you to know that, I never intended to marry Y/N.”

Haz’s heart stops dead in his tracks as he hears his friend fessing up. He decides to take another sip at his tea, not believing what he is hearing right now.

Tom continues as the sunflowers in the back move slightly as the wind blows, the aesthetic helping the energy stay calm. The brunette clears his throat as he looks at the flowers, not being able to keep eye contact with his own best friend.

“I know you wanted her first and I just never thanked you for letting me keep her.” Tom confesses as he looks back at Haz who is already choked up.

This was a lot for for Harrison because his best friend usually never fessed up to anything. It was almost a healing process for him as well, a huge open wound that is healing slowly. It was a big deal for both of them because of the fact they have been on different wavelengths and it was like Tom wanted to fix that.

Harrison cracks a smile, “Thanks man. And I’m sorry for being a mess and thank you for being there for me.”

Tom sets down his cigar on the tea plate and nods his head, “Before we all get mushy, we have a problem..”

-

A/N: AHHH!!! SORRY IF THIS IS ALL OVER THE PLACE! BUT pls let me know what you think is going to happen next!! feedback is always helpful, so please message me or whateva!! I love you guys! Goodnight/Goodmorning! -Amy💛

p.s not everyone that is on the taglist asked to be tagged but if you want me to remove you let me know!!

Taglist: @ladybirduris​ @thedaydreamingwriter​ @a-walk-in-silence​ @tomhaz​ @mischiefmanaged49​ @tomshufflepuff​ @smexylemony​ @musicgirl234​ @spidey-pal​ @greenarrowhead​ @superheros-and-others​ @captainbuckyy​ @kawaiigothfishpasta @hollandechart​ @thollandx​ @glader-witch-wolf​ @amren-rhyssecond​ @peteryesparker​ @hazhasmycoffee​ @the-queen-procrastinator​ @hollandroos@spiderboytotherescue @hotsterfield  @thedaydreamingwriter

[moltensunlight]

More (like a lot more) Altean!Lance arrives on earth by way of a crashed ship and then gets raised by a human family AU because my brain won't shut up about it lmao

like this is something i actually don’t think i’ve seen yet??? and i’m craving it now so i’m trying to be the change i want to see in the world lol here we go

so in this idea that’s been pestering me for like two weeks now, Lance and his family live on a completely different part of planet Altea than Allura and the royal family do 

mainly because i want to explore more of Altea as a fully-realized planet with different climates and ecosystems and cultures

and when the Galra attack Lance looks like the human equivalent of an eight year old

how old is this in altean? who fuckin knows I'm still debating this b/c I can't decide how I want to break up the growth stages for alteans 

his Altean family and maybe more escaped the fall of Altea in a ship (maybe one not unlike a smaller version of the castleship??? aka one of those ‘buildings that can turn into ships’ deals) and in order to escape detection by the galra they went into cyrosleep and shut down the ship (which we see is totally possible in the castle of lions) to keep it untraceable 

they're either aimlessly drifting through space or they have a specific course, but basically they’re trying to keep themselves always on the move 

then around 10,000 years later something happens that essentially rips part of the ship off (still debating the cause for this one tbhhhhhhh) including the section of the cryochamber room with lance's cryopod (which is miraculously unharmed) in it 

the damaged part of the ship then ends up on a collision course for earth

lance's human family (like in my head it’s mainly his dad and his dad’s brothers (a personal headcanon i’ve based off my own family lmao) but honestly it could be any of the adults) finds the broken ship bit and searches the wreckage for survivors, thinking maybe it's a damaged Garrison craft or something until they're inside and they realize this is definitely not From Earth

during this exploration they find Lance in a pod that’s been damaged in the crash, it's cracked and Lance has a head wound that does not look pretty and probably a broken bone or two to boot

they pull him out and he's clearly not human but he looks like a child they can't just leave him there, but they also can't take him to a hospital 

cue like an aunt or uncle who's medically trained patching him up the best they can (or even better sneaking him into a hospital for x-rays and bloodwork and the like, but i’ll get into those ideas later)

when lance wakes up he doesn't know who he is or where he's from aND there's a language barrier there 

like I refuse to believe in canon vld that the castle and their lions and suits aren't constantly translating stuff for them because hOW DOES EVERYONE IN THE UNIVERSE SPEAK ENGLISH 

but these people take care of him and they're really nice from what he can tell 

I actually have this whole scene in my head where the family finds altean writing on lance's clothes that looks like "Lance" too, it says something completely different but it looks like “Lance” to humans that use latin-based alphabets, so boom name matching canon immediately addressed 

but haven, how are you addressing his markings and altean features??? 

simple, my dudes, imagine that young alteans tend to shape shift to look like people they really like - oftentimes for other alteans it's hair or eye color, but for aliens there can be a lot more shifting involved. plus this whole process is encouraged because it's good practice for their shape shifting abilities too

habits also aren't going to be forgotten so soon, especially if they're a kind of muscle memory, and kids tend to do it without thinking (imagine a kid going "I want a haircut to match my best friend!!!!" with the strength of conviction that only a child can have; it's a strong enough thought that they just kind of subconsciously shift to that) 

and Lance has no recollection of his life before he wakes up to this family, he's got nothing to go on, so he latches on to them (I imagine he bonds with his new siblings (that are around his age) super quick too) and shifts to look like them pretty early on, like way before he ever actually learns Spanish and English

and since he has no other influences for him to latch onto shifting-wise, and also no one to tell him "hey you can shift back too you know" he ends up just staying shifted human

also idk if any of y’all have ever had a concussion before but like there are like months-worth of time after the concussion itself occurred that are still fuzzy to me, even four years after the fact

this is relevant because if Lance shifts so early on in recovering from his concussion, he might not even remember that he looked like anything other than human to begin with

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other things to help reduce plot holes include: 

Lance’s human family homeschooling him until he at least learns Spanish, since there is literally no one else on the planet who can explain things to him in his native tongue 

they also need to figure out where his level of knowledge is at so they can figure out what grade to put him in

because of this time spent with his human family and seeing how humans work in the process, he quickly absorbs that shifting isn't a thing humans do, even if he wasn't fully conscious of the fact that he did it in the first place 

he watches his siblings' hair grow and then get cut (no shifting involved), he listens to his brother complain when their sister grows taller than them because he wants to be the tall one!! but he never shifts to do so

basically a lot of "subliminal" messages that teach Lance about how humanity works, aka how we human children learn about how society and social settings work too - we watch others and copy what they do because they seem to know what they're doing (aka also how we get ourselves in trouble too because no one actually knows what they're doing lbr) 

another fun thing: Lance subconsciously adjusting his strength to match that of a typical human after watching the amount of effort it takes others to do things

because of all this and a lack of memory surrounding his life beforehand Lance fully believes he's human through and through, because what else could there be??? 

now saying this, he probably totally has a phase where he wants to be/believes he is a mermaid, but his subconscious is rooted in humanity firmly enough by that point that he can’t accidentally shift into one (though imagine an au of this au where he does omg. imagine That Reveal. Lance voice: [after pidge reveals she’s a girl] well if we’re coming clean about secrets then i guess you guys should know that i’m a mermaid *finger guns and grows gills to prove it* Allura voice: no you’re just shapeshifting, you’re clearly Altean. wait, whAT-)

Lance's parents only tell him (and other family members like grandparents and such) the basics of finding him (we got you out of a nasty crash and we couldn't find anyone else in it so we don't know what happened to your birth parents but we love you very much and will always be your family) 

because like how do you tell your son that now looks and acts and believes he's a human that he's really an alien?? 

also like, what would that accomplish??? Lance doesn't remember anything about his life before earth, what would he even do with the info??? He can't get back, he wouldn't even know where to even BEGIN looking in //all of space// for his birth parents, and that's IF they're even still alive, like, it's just a Bad Time all around 

so they love their star boy very much and try to give him the best life that they can here on earth 

(this also breaks my heart but imagine Lance’s parents’ reactions to him deciding to go to the Galaxy Garrison and then working really hard to get in - they’re so so proud of their star boy and they want him to follow his dreams but there’s a part of them that wonders if he was always going to return to the stars, if he never truly belonged with them)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

now cue the entirety of canon VLD events

literally nothing changes, i just have the idea of a few extra scenes thrown in to raise some questions, but nothing that really comes to a head until after Shiro’s disappearance 

this post is so long already tho i think i might just continue these ideas in another post lmao