#And maybe i miss the mullet a bit

[brainless-but-thats-all]

Hm....

[moe-broey]

Man I don't even go to Genshin anymore but I see people redesigning that new glasses girl with the blonde mullet and pink gradient and getting rid of her pink gradient like. Do you hate me specifically. Do you hate love and fun

[theloveinc]

OlderDad!Bakugou who gets a haircut and his baby doesn't recognize him and he doesn't want his dad to pick him up 😭😭😭😭😭😭

Bakugou has a cry in the bathroom and you have to spend the rest of the night consoling him.

Also Hiiiiiii, miss u, hope youre gooooood

head in my hands bc of this, just thought abt bakugo growing out his hair a little bit right after baby's birth...takes him months to go and get a real haircut cuz he doesn't wanna burden you more than he already has and by the time he's okay with the thought (but only for "AN HOUR MAX," is what he says), he has a mullet thing going on and all this scruff on his chin🥺🥺🥺

so he gets home with his regular ol' haircut, maybe a little shorter just to account for ... not wanting to go again so soon, and baby's HOLLERING bloody murder as soon as they see him and refusing to be taken out of your arms, doing that thing where they're flipping their face back and forth to dodge a kiss...

it's so tragic bc not even a little cheek nuzzling helps to calm them bc bakugo's CLEAN SHAVEN and smells like aftershave instead of like dad when he tries!!!!!!

and after, you watch him kinda sulk into the bathroom, thinking like aw yeah thats a bummer but also pretty funny, too (esp bc the haircut does look good🫣🤓), AND HE DOESN'T COME OUT FOR LIKE an hour???

....until you finally have to ask him if he's okay in there and you're opening the door to him sitting on the toilet seat, arms crossed and red cheeks a little streaky with tears...

LJFKASDJFADSJK it's the cutest, most sad sight you ever did see!! ofc Bakugo tries to deny it, but the way he tears up again (after you're done assuring him he did nothing wrong) when his baby finally realizes it's him and smiles (and then how he refuses to give them up again until bedtime) has his ass. EXPOSED.

(i love and miss u more than air, earth, water, dirt + HOPE YOU'RE GOOD TOO BESTIE ILY)

[stevie-petey]

episode one: MADMAX

Steve is looking at Nancy so tenderly, and when he removes his sunglasses you see how much his eyes light up when she hits his shoulder and leans in close to him.  “I missed you,” Steve tells her, his voice soft and sensual.  It’s the way he says it that makes you want to run your hands through his hair, be the one in his arms as he kisses your neck and whispers how often he’s thought of you since you’ve been gone. You’ve felt his arms around you before, once. You know how securely he holds on, how his cologne lingers on your clothes long after he’s gone. You miss him, you miss everything. 

Summary: what does steve fear more ? you or the plague ? currently it's you, some guy with an awful mullet stares you down in the parking lot (gross), nancy invites you to a party from your nightmares, and you become an official unlicensed therapist for will. yay for junior year !

Rating: general, slight cursing

Warnings: fem!reader, use of y/n, descriptions of PTSD (slightly), swearing, and general angst and exhaustion

Words: 5.2k

Before you swing in: hello ! welcome back to the rewrite, hope yall are well :) heres chapter 1 of season 2 !!! so so so excited and ready to dive into this new season. things get a bit darker, feelings get even MORE complicated, and poor reader just really needs to take a fat nap and maybe some reassuring words. shes more angsty this season, so buckle up

-

October 29th, 1984

You originally gave Dustin the phone number to Bookstrordinary in case of any emergencies.

Now, you’re really starting to regret it.

For the fifth time this week, Dustin calls you at work to beg for money. Him and the boys recently started going to an arcade that’s opened up in town and have spent practically every day after school there this year. Sure, you don’t mind loaning your brother a few quarters, but at the rate he’s going he’s gonna drain your next paycheck.

Just as you’re thinking this, the phone rings.

Right on cue.

Alex, your coworker, smirks. “How much do you think he’ll ask for this time?”

“If I’m lucky, only a dollar.”

“Will asked me for three tonight, so I wouldn’t jinx anything.”

You gape at Jonathan, who has started hanging around your job after school just to have something to do. “No fucking way.”

“Way,” he laughs, pointing towards the phone on the counter. “Answer before Dustin sends a drone our way.”

You sigh and pick up the phone, which is on its second round of calling, and put on your best customer service voice. “You’ve reached Bookstrordinary, may I ask who is calling?”

“Don’t play dumb, Y/N.”

“Aw, I’m doing well tonight. Thanks for asking, Dustin.”

“I need five dollars.”

“Ya know, ‘please’ has such a nice ring to it.”

“... if I say please, will you give me the money?”

“No.”

Silence fills the other end. Alex and Jonathan are hunched together, trying to stifle their laughs. You send them a thumbs up, and they give you one back.

“You’re a horrible sister.”

“What!” You scoff at Dustin. “I think you owe me like, at least ten bucks now. Yet you don’t see me complaining.”

A loud groan, then an obnoxious scream. “I promise I’ll clean Mews’ litter box for a week straight if you just give me the money.”

“Tempting, and honestly I’d take you up on that offer, but I already spent my last paycheck on my Halloween costume. You’re outta luck.”

Dustin gasps. “You were gonna say no this whole time? You just wasted like, at least five minutes of my time! I could’ve been digging through the couch for coins by now!”

“Jesus,” you pull the phone away from your face as Dustin continues to shout. Jonathan lets out a loud cackle and Alex just shakes his head. “I can give you some money next week–”

The line cuts off. Dustin has hung up.

What a little shit.

“You remind me why I’m grateful I’m an only child.” Alex says, now walking from behind the counter to begin stacking some books. Technically your shift ended almost thirty minutes ago, but you and Jonathan prefer to hang around for a while. It’s rare to have some time with just the two of you (even if Alex is there as an unfortunate third wheel).

“Glad I can help.” You respond. Once he’s gone, you turn to Jonathan. “And you were right, Dustin indeed wanted more than Will’s measly three bucks.”

He laughs. “Figured as much. The look on your face was genuine disbelief when he asked.”

“Mhm, I’m scared these boys will turn into horrendous teens. The lack of gentlemen in Hawkins these days is astounding.”

“C’mon, I’d say I’m a gentleman. I mean, I’m riding on your bike pegs tonight to keep you safe.” Jonathan says, waving an arm in front of his body as if to present all his gentleman-ness to you.

“Sure, bee.” Although, he has a point. Joyce has the car tonight so she can drive Will to the arcade and Jonathan doesn’t like you biking home in the dark. After what happened last year, none of the Byers are particularly keen on letting their loved ones go off alone at night. So, to ensure your safety, Jonathan has started riding on your bike pegs all the way home.

It’s endearing really, wholly unnecessary, but endearing.

Jonathan flicks your nose. “Who else would be such a gentleman to you? Steve?”

Hearing Steve’s name sends a wave of varying emotions through you. Guilt, shame, remorse, longing. You miss him. You really, really miss him.

“I thought we agreed to stop talking about Steve.” You mumble, now busying yourself with a piece of paper on the counter.

After Will was found last year, you and Steve had gotten really close. He’d spend hours bugging you at work, he’d gotten you such a lovely Christmas gift that still hangs on your wall, and you’d grown close with him in a way you haven’t before with anyone else. He would’ve done anything for you, he cared about you with such genuineness, and you couldn’t handle it.

Summer came and the heat that came with it scared you.

You’d pushed Steve away, severed any connection you had to him. It was easier when you didn’t have to see him every day at school, but ever since junior year started, you’ve been in your own personal hell.

Steve walks past you in the halls without batting an eye. He doesn’t look your way, like the months you spent learning every inch of his wonderfully unique brain and the moles scattered along his face never happened; he doesn’t give you that smile that makes your knees weak. He’s avoided you like the fucking plague, which you can’t blame him for, but it’s only made things more awkward between him, Jonathan, Nancy, and you.

Jonathan sighs. “I’m sorry, bug. I just… he seemed good for you, ya know? I was actually starting to like the guy before you suddenly stopped hanging around him.”

You play with the piece of paper, hoping that if you don’t respond then Jonathan will just drop the subject, but a thought seems to cross his mind.

“Wait a minute. Steve didn’t like, hurt you or anything, right?” You don’t respond again and now he’s starting to get worried. “Y/N, I’m serious. Did he do something to you?”

The irony of the situation is so comical you want to laugh. Here Jonathan is, demanding to know if Steve hurt you and if that’s why you’ve stopped being his friend, when in reality it’d been Jonathan who hurt you. Jonathan, your oldest and dearest friend, is the reason you’re so fucking terrified of letting Steve in. Of falling in love with him.

You’re already in love with Jonathan, you can’t put yourself through any more hurt.

But fuck, you miss Steve. You’d come to rely on him and his obnoxious sense of humor that never failed to make you laugh. The way he so effortlessly filled the room with warmth.

“Relax, bee. He didn’t do anything. I just wanted to focus on Will and the boys more.” You lie through your teeth.

He gives you a funny look. “I know you care about the boys, but you know they’d want you to have some other friends.”

“I have you, that’s all I need.”

It’s all I can afford.

“Bug, I’m worried about you. You’ve all but thrown yourself into school, you work non stop here, and when you finally have some free time you’re spending it researching child psych for Will–”

“Just drop it, Jonathan!” You finally snap at your friend.

He stops, surprised by your outburst. He can see the angry flush in your cheeks now and the slight heavy breathing you do to try and calm yourself down. Jonathan drops his shoulders, defeated. He’s been worried about you ever since junior year started. You’re more withdrawn, you look like you haven’t slept at all, and now you don’t even feel comfortable telling him what’s been bothering you.

All Jonathan knows is that one day you were glowing while telling him a story about Steve and his stupid jokes, then the next day you looked frail and sickly as you told him that Steve was no longer visiting you at work.

Something happened between you two, he’s just not sure what or how to even help.

For once, Jonathan is at a loss.

–

“And then she chased Mike all the way down the street for her money! He got away!” Jonathan finishes his story with a grand flourish, laughing and hitting his steering wheel as if it’s the funniest thing in the world.

You let out a weak laugh, exhausted from the night before. It’s early morning and you’re in the school parking lot, hanging in Jonathan’s car as always, and you feel like utter shit. You stayed up late last night reading this journal you’d found in the school library about acute trauma in children. It had been fascinating and there were some things you thought could apply to Will. Before you knew it, it had been three in the morning and you needed to be up soon for school.

Which leads you to now: slouched in the passenger seat, sunglasses over your eyes to block out the annoying sun, tiredly listening to Jonathan’s recounting of his phone call with Nancy from last night. Apparently they’ve progressed to nightly phone calls now.

Lovely.

Without meaning to, your eyes start to drift shut. The car is the perfect cozy kind of warm and the late October air wraps around you as if to lull you to sleep. Jonathan notices you’ve gone quiet and pokes your cheek.

“If you fell asleep I’ll tell your mom and she’ll put you back on house arrest.”

You slap his hand away. “Don’t do that, then she’ll just ban me from your house.”

“You were up all night researching again, weren’t you.”

“If you have to ask, then that’s probably your answer.”

“Y/N–”

You put a finger up, using your other hand to rub at your temples. A headache is forming and you’re three seconds away from just skipping first period to nap in the car. “We aren’t doing this again. Drop it.”

Jonathan rolls his eyes. “I’m your best friend, it’s my job to worry about you–”

“And it’s my job to tell you to fuck off whenever you’re getting on my nerves–”

Suddenly a loud blue camaro comes speeding into the school parking lot, effectively drowning out whatever you’d been saying to Jonathan. The car revs its engine and almost hits a few students as it jerks its tires and then screeches to a halt, parking right next to you guys.

You and Jonathan look at each other.

“What the fuck?” You look out your window and are greeted with the sight of an attractive blond guy staring at you. His music is blasting so loud you can hear it through Jonathan’s windows.

“Jonathan,” you whisper, getting his attention. “Am I really tired or is there a guy with a god awful mullet staring at me right now?”

“He’s real.”

“Cool.” You continue to stare at the guy, unsure what to do. You’ve never seen him before, there’s no way you’d forget a face like that in Hawkins. He’s attractive, almost unappealingly attractive, and there’s a coldness to his beauty that makes you uncomfortable. He looks dangerous, like he knows how much power his beauty brings him.

The boy winks at you, a lit cigarette dangling from his mouth, and then gets out of the car, slamming his door rather harshly. It’s then that you notice the redhead girl, much younger than him, possibly around Dustin’s age, getting out of the car as well. She slams her own door and doesn’t even spare the guy a glance as she drops her skateboard down and rides towards the middle school across the parking lot.

Meanwhile the boy saunters inside, a lazy pace in his step that also holds immense confidence. He’s cocky, cool and collected, and he takes one last look around, as if to survey his new claimed battleground. You notice a few of your classmates gazing at him with interest, which you don’t really understand. He’s hot, but his attitude alone tells you everything you need to know about him.

Once he’s gone, Jonathan finally speaks. “Who was that guy?”

“No clue,” your eyes linger on the doors he’s just walked through. There’s something off about him. “But I don’t think we want to know… C’mon, if we don’t head in now we’ll be late for our first class.”

–

During your lunch period everyone’s buzzing about some upcoming Halloween party. As you’re walking towards your locker with Jonathan, you notice a few pieces of orange paper being passed around. You don’t pay much attention to them, but when Nancy joins you two she eagerly takes a few from the girl passing them out.

Nancy playfully shoves the papers at you and Jonathan. “You guys are totally coming to this.”

“We are?” You ask, eyeing the flyer wearily. You have nothing against parties, but the thought of being surrounded by a bunch of drunk teenagers in horrible costumes is frankly terrifying to you.

“You sure are, Y/N.”

“But Nancy–”

“‘Come and get sheet faced’.” Jonathan reads aloud. “Yeah, Nance. I think we’ll pass.”

Nancy groans. “I can’t let you guys sit all alone on Halloween. That’s just not acceptable.”

“Actually,” you correct her, annoyed by the assumption, “we have a tradition with the boys. We take them out every year to trick or treat and it’s always been fun. We won’t be ‘alone’.”

“No offense, Y/N, but spending Halloween with a bunch of middle schoolers isn’t much better.”

You make a face and look over at Jonathan for help, but he shrugs. “You gotta admit, it is kinda lame.”

“I can’t believe you’d betray me like this–”

Nancy smiles at this. “See? Plus, I doubt trick or treating with the boys will take all night. You’ll be home by 8:00, and Jonathan will be listening to the Talking Heads and reading Vonnegut or something, while you, my dear Y/N, will be baking a fresh batch of cookies and throwing away all the candy corn you find.”

“Sounds like a nice night.” Jonathan responds, and you nudge your shoulder with his. It does sound like a nice night, one you’re looking forward to.

“I forgive you for your earlier betrayal.”

“Guys!” Nancy stops at her locker now, slight frustration in her voice. “Just… Come on! I mean, who knows? You guys might meet someone and–”

Her words are cut off with a squeal as she’s suddenly lifted in the air and spun around, Steve having snuck up behind her. Nancy now puts all her attention on him, he has his arms wrapped low on her waist and he’s wearing sunglasses inside like some idiot, and your heart hurts. He looks good, too good.

Steve is looking at Nancy so tenderly, and when he removes his sunglasses you see how much his eyes light up when she hits his shoulder and leans in close to him.

“I missed you,” Steve tells her, his voice soft and sensual.

It’s the way he says it that makes you want to run your hands through his hair, be the one in his arms as he kisses your neck and whispers how often he’s thought of you since you’ve been gone. You’ve felt his arms around you before, once. You know how securely he holds on, how his cologne lingers on your clothes long after he’s gone. You miss him, you miss everything.

Steve, as if sensing what you’re thinking, risks a look at you. Your eyes meet his and for a brief second no one else exists anymore. It’s just you and him in the small Hawkins high school hallway, where he’s yours again in a way that’s clouded with “almost” and “not enough”, and you want to tell him how lovely he is and how horrible you feel for hurting him, but then he diverts his gaze and focuses back on Nancy and you’re thrown back into reality.

He isn’t yours. Hell, he isn’t even your friend anymore, and you’re the one to blame.

Once Nancy and Steve start kissing, you share a disgusted look with Jonathan and silently agree to leave.

“Young love, huh?” Jonathan jokes bitterly when you’ve left them behind.

“I hate it.”

And you do.

You’re really starting to hate this whole “love” thing.

–

The only highlight so far this school year has been you and Will growing even closer. When Jonathan told you that Will started seeing the Hawkins Lab people for treatment and to see how he’s been recovering, you pulled Joyce aside later that night to ask if it’d be okay if you spoke with Will yourself. Since everything that happened last year, you’ve only become more interested in psychology, and you’d be lying if you said Will wasn’t an interesting case study.

You told Joyce that you’d been doing your own research, reading journals upon journals, and she made you a deal. You could help Will as long as you also took care of yourself, that you wouldn’t place an even heavier burden upon yourself. Of course you agreed, promising her you wouldn’t, and that’s how your weekly chats with Will began.

Jonathan had been against it at first, telling you that you didn’t have to worry about Will because you already do everything else for the kids. You told him you could handle it, and secretly you liked helping Will because you were able to pour all your anxiety and complex feelings for Steve into research and studying. It was a win-win in your eyes.

Meanwhile, Mrs. Waters had been extremely understanding when you asked for Wednesdays off. After all, you’d been working at Bookstrordinary for almost three years now, so she was quick to make the accommodation.

Now here you are, another Wednesday spent at the Byers’ home. You’re sitting with Will in his bed, the both of you quietly scribbling with his crayons. You’ve learned that he’s more receptive if you draw with him, if you take your time.

“How was Dr. Owens today?”

Will pauses mid-scribble. “Fine.”

“Just ‘fine’? Nothing else?” Your head is down so he doesn’t think you’re studying his reactions, but you keep an eye on him anyways.

“Yeah. I told him about my latest episode.”

“You had another one? Would you like to tell me when?”

Will thinks for a moment, and you tell him that he of course doesn’t have to say anything if he doesn’t want to.

“Last night. I was back in the Upside Down… and there was this… this thing.”

Now you stop drawing. “Like the monster we killed last year?”

“Different,” he shakes his head. “This thing was evil.”

Will’s eyes are darting everywhere around the room, and you can see his growing unease, so you decide to put the topic to rest for now. Clearly the episodes are getting worse, scaring him more, so you shift gears.

“Okay, I believe you. I’m sorry for the episodes, but besides them how have you been feeling? Is school getting any better?” Earlier this month Will had confessed to you about the kids in school calling him “zombie boy” and treating him like a freak. You did your best to comfort him, and once you finished your chat with the boy you’d gone to Joyce to let her know.

Will sighs. “School is… school.”

You reach out and move some hair out of Will’s face. “I’m sorry, little bee. Middle schoolers are idiots, they’ll never understand how much you went through. I mean, I had to face that monster for only about twenty minutes. You had to hide from it for days, so you’re honestly incredibly braver than me.”

This gets a smile out of Will, which you’re relieved by. He’s been quiet lately, more closed off, and you’re worried that with the one year anniversary coming up, his episodes will only get worse.

A knock on the door, and then Jonathan pokes his head in. “Hey, guys. Mind if I join?”

“Actually, I think I should go. Bob’s been begging me for my cookie recipe, so I’ll leave you two alone.” You send a look Will’s way, a you better talk to your brother about this look, and he weakly nods his head.

As you walk past Jonathan out the door, you lean in close to Jonathan and whisper, “he’s struggling at school. Be gentle, kids can be fucking awful.”

He nods and squeezes your hand, silently thanking you, and you close the door behind you. While you want to help Will, make sure he’s adapting well, you also recognize your limits. He’s not your brother, Jonathan is, and you know he’ll be more open with him.

Joyce is in the kitchen with Bob, making some popcorn over the stove. He’s filming her with his ridiculously large camera and you can’t help but smile as you watch them. Joyce looks so happy around the guy, laughing more than she’s laughed in the last five or so years you’ve known her. She deserves this, she deserves a guy like Bob. Sweet, slightly silly, but good.

When Joyce sees you lingering in the doorway, she waves you in. “Hey, honey. Any luck with Will tonight?”

“A bit, he told me some of what’s happening at school. He still seems… off, but at least he was opening up. It’s a good sign.”

Joyce hums, but you can sense that there’s more on her mind. You look around to make sure Bob isn’t near, he’s busy digging through a cabinet to find a clean bowl, so you move closer to the woman and lower your voice. “What did Dr. Owens say this time?”

“Claims we need to just pretend everything is okay, despite the fact that it’s getting worse.”

There’s an edge in Joyce’s voice, so you’re careful with your words. “Well… I think he’s right.”

“You do?” Joyce turns to you, her voice loud with surprise, before she quickly remembers Bob is near and lowers it again. “Why do you think that?”

“I was up late reading a new journal I found about acute trauma in children. It’s been almost a year since Will disappeared, he spent days in complete fear, almost died… I mean, it makes sense that his body is remembering those traumatic effects.”

“So you think we should just leave Will alone, let him suffer through his episodes without any help?” There’s more confusion and fear than anger in Joyce’s voice, and you rest your hand against her arm.

“I know it seems counterintuitive, but the best studies we have all show that we have to let those who suffer from post-traumatic stress adapt at their own pace, through their own ways. They hate feeling pitied, and I have a feeling Will is starting to as well.”

Joyce turns the stove off and shakes her head at you. “You sound like Hop. I thought you hated the guy.”

“I don’t hate him,” you chuckle, now helping the woman peel off the foil and sprinkle some salt onto the popcorn. “He just reminds me too much of my dad, and we all know how that ends.”

“Well if you ask me, I think it’s because you two are so similar.”

You gasp. “How dare you!”

Joyce laughs and the seriousness from the previous conversation dissipates. Bob finds a clean bowl and together you and him pour the fresh popcorn in as Joyce prepares the drinks. They’re having a movie night together, and you want to cry because of how adorable it all is. Joyce deserves this.

“You know you’re welcome to join us tonight, Y/N. It’s Will’s turn to choose the movie.” Joyce tells you, but you politely decline.

“Normally I’d love to, but I should get going. I have some homework and I promised Dustin I’d bake him some Halloween treats.”

“Oh!” Bob turns to you. “Speaking of, you promised you’d give me that recipe of yours!”

You and Joyce share an amused look. “You caught me, I did. I’ll write it down right now and you have to swear that no one else will look at this. Deal?”

Bob nods, ecstatic, and you grab a piece of paper and quickly scribble down all the ingredients he’ll need and how to make the cookies. Joyce watches fondly, and you fill with warmth having pleased her. When you’re done, you hand the paper over to Bob and make him cross his heart, just to be extra sure he won’t reveal all your secrets.

“Scout’s honor!”

“Very good then, soldier.” You salute him, and then pull Joyce into a hug. “I really gotta go now. Can you tell Jonathan I said goodbye?”

“Of course, bike home safe, alright?”

You wink at her. “Scout’s honor.”

Bob lets out a loud cackle and you can’t believe that this guy is real, but Joyce is laughing along with him and you’re pleased she’s found someone as endearing and kind as him.

–

As soon as you get home you throw down your backpack and bunker down at the kitchen table. Your mom isn’t back from work yet and Dustin seems to be off somewhere doing god knows what, so it’s just you and Mews for now.

Mews plops herself on the table next to an essay you’ve been working on and you scratch her head as you work. You get lost in your writing, humming softly to yourself, enjoying this small moment of peace.

You won’t admit this to Jonathan, but he’s right. You’ve been overworking yourself, your body aches and your eyes droop with exhaustion almost every day now. But keeping yourself busy is what’s helping you stay afloat. The more you pile onto yourself, the less time you have to think about Steve and his stupid smile and stupid hair and stupid face.

In the middle of one of your sentences, Dustin flings the front door open and scares you. “Jesus, dude!”

He doesn’t spare you a glance, but when he sees Mews on the table with you he suddenly looks a bit alarmed. “Mews is here?”

“Yeah…? She’s helping me with this english essay.” You respond, confused.

“Huh,” Dustin thinks for a second, but seems to shrug it off. “Anyways, I’m home.”

“I can see that.”

“Are you gonna ask about my day?”

“How was your day, my dear brother.”

Dustin hops onto the table and shimmies his shoulders. “I met a girl.”

“What?” You drop your pencil in shock and Mews scatters, your exclaim having frightened her.

“Don’t act too surprised, geesh.” Your brother rolls his eyes, but then he frowns. “Actually, technically speaking I haven’t met her yet, but–”

“You have a crush?” You’re in shock. In your eyes, Dustin is still a baby, no older than six years old. And yet here is he, thirteen and talking to you about a girl.

“Yes, Y/N. Her name is Max, she has red hair and is new, and she’s totally awesome.”

Red hair? You remember seeing that girl in the parking lot earlier today. “Was she with that weird new guy, the one with a mullet?”

Dustin nods, so you poke him in the stomach and ooh at him. “I saw her this morning, she was prettyyyy.”

He shoves your finger away and blushes, which you find adorable. Dustin’s first ever crush, you can’t believe how old he is now.

“Yeah, she’s pretty, but she’s also just awesome. I think she’s the one with the new high score on Dig Dug.”

“Dig Dug?”

Your brother scoffs. “The arcade game the party always plays? Honestly, do you not listen when I tell you about my days?”

“Alright, fine. If you can remember what I told you I did yesterday, then I’ll apologize for not listening better.”

Dustin closes his mouth, unable to recall a thing.

“Mhm, that’s what I thought.” You flick his hat. “Anyways, since you officially like girls now, I’ve been dying to give you some girl advice.”

“Y/N–” Dustin groans, but you shush him.

“First things first, always be a gentleman. Max does indeed seem cool, but I’m sure she’d appreciate a nice and polite young man like yourself.”

Dustin nods. “Okay, be kind. Got it.”

“Good. Now secondly, we Hendersons are charming people, so just be yourself.”

“Duh,”

“Lastly, if she shows interest, tell her how you feel. Better you’re honest and true about how you feel rather than hide it and sulk.”

Dustin snorts. “Says you.”

You look away from him, slightly hurt. “I don’t know what you mean by that.”

“C’mon, Y/N. When are you gonna tell Jonathan you love him? I mean, everyone knows you do, it’s about time you confess.” Dustin drones on, unaware of your hurt feelings. “And he’s obviously in love with you, you guys are disgusting to be around–”

“He doesn’t love me back.” You whisper, looking down at your paper. You feel pathetic, confessing this to your little brother.

Dustin freezes, now realizing you’ve gone quiet. He can feel your mood darken and he feels like shit for not noticing it sooner. He’s upset you. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I thought he did, I mean the party and I all assumed…”

His words fade off, and you want to crawl into a hole and never come out. It’s embarrassing, you shouldn’t be pitied like this by your brother. “It’s okay, I know what you meant.”

“Y/N–”

You get up from the table and gather your things, shoving them into your backpack. “I’m gonna finish up this essay in my room, then I promise I’ll start baking those marshmallow puffs you like–”

Dustin jumps down from the table and blocks you from leaving the kitchen. “Jonathan is an ass–”

“Language–”

He doesn’t let you interrupt. “You’re cool, he’s stupid, and I’m here for you. Alright? Don’t make me pull a code blue on you.”

You wrap your brother into your arms, something he hadn’t been expecting, and allow yourself a small laugh. “No need for a code blue, I promise. Just, give me like an hour to sulk and then I’ll be as good as new. Okay?”

When you pull away, Dustin eyes you, but understands he won’t win this argument. The two of you handle your emotions the same way: alone, in solitude, away from prying eyes. He knows you just need some time to yourself, but he still feels like a jerk for upsetting you in the first place. “Fine, but if you’re sulking later I’ll flick your nose.”

You flick his nose and then quickly flee to your room, Dustin not far behind you. “Flicked you first!”

“Not fair!”

You slam your bedroom door and giggle as you lock it. Dustin bangs on the door, but you can hear the amusement in his voice. You tell him you’ll be out as soon as you’re done with your essay, and then go and sit down at your desk. Sighing, you dig into your bag and pull out what you need. Without meaning to, you look up and see your Spider-Man poster, your wonderful Christmas gift from Steve, hanging in front of you.

The small joy you’d been feeling vanishes.

The poster stares back at you, you can almost hear it calling you a pathetic coward, and you feel guilt claw at your throat. You close your eyes, remembering the cold from that winter day, and you can almost smell the cologne Steve had been wearing when you’d thrown yourself into his warmth. Sometimes, if you sit still enough, you think you can feel the ghost of his embrace.

You open your eyes.

Steve isn’t here.

Of course he isn’t here.

You exhale, feeling the familiar ache and exhaustion within you; junior year is looking quite grim.

-

⌑ series masterlist

⌑ if you would like to be added/removed from my taglist, just let me know :)

⌑  taglist: @siriuslysmoking @sheisjoeschateau @myeclispedsun @innercreationflower @juhdoche @frostandflamesfanfic @goosy-goose @quinnsadilla @munsons-queen @stefansring @rice-elephant @bex22109 @bitchkeery

[springgirlshowers]

How about the reader and Joost are childhood friends that get split up, but reunite because Joost wants them to be apart of his eurovison team. They realize they miss eachother a lot and confess and happily ever after (⊃｡•́‿•̀｡)⊃

It’s So Sweet

Paring: Joost x GN!Reader (no pronouns used!)

CW: none!

A/N: ahhhhhh this one is so cuuuuuute! i love the childhood friends to lovers trope so much! thank you for the request and i hope you enjoy it <333

masterlist!

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Joost and you were never seen apart as kids. Always walking in the school hallways together, sitting and partnering up in the classes you had together. Constantly hanging out after school and on the weekends. You two were basically connected at the hip.

Until your family gave you the news you would be moving to Sweden. Something to do with a better job opportunity. You begged for them not to, to move somewhere where you currently were at least. Though you knew your pleas wouldn’t do much.

Before you left, Joost and you exchanged emails. To keep in touch while you two would be apart.

You did for awhile. But as you both got older, your emails to each other took longer. It would be weeks, months, before you replied to each other.

Until they just stopped completely. You two had gotten too caught up into your adulthood. You hadn’t returned to your hometown since you moved away.

Joost fell into a successful career as a musician. You getting yours as a dancer.

It’s been years since you and him talked.

Your heart nearly stopped once you saw the notification when you were on the bus after a rehearsal.

joostklein has requested to follow you.

His profile picture was a picture of him as a toddler. The one you’ve seen so many times before, hanging on the wall in his living room when you went over to hangout after school.

You looked through his account, he almost looked the exact same as he did when he was a preteen. Only his body was scattered in tattoos, he had grown a mustache, much taller, and his hair was dyed into a nearly white color and cut into a mullet.

His most recent posts were a reel revealing how he’d be representing the Netherlands in the next Eurovision competition, and another video revealing the date his song for the event would be released.

Minutes after you accepted the request and followed him back, he messaged you.

It was a simple question, asking if you were the same one he knew as a kid. You responded, telling him you were.

The texts following after that were a little bit awkward. Soon the tension between you both was gone, you told each about what you’ve been doing for the past years, how they’d gone, what you’ve been doing now.

After exchanging phone numbers, the texts turned into calls, then video chats.

You listened to his songs, almost going through every single one of his albums in one night.

You were surprised by a lot of the lyrics, by how the innocent boy with a side swept haircut you once knew, was now singing about having sex with women to a mario kart remixed beat and saying “suck my dick bitch” multiple times in another song.

You honestly found them catchy, however you realized they were better to listen to with earbuds in or alone, rather than in any public place.

However, the lyrics in other songs were more heart breaking. God, soul shattering even.

“Maybe it was wrong. But I miss us, I miss home.”

“My dad who was laying there, seen but no authority. We'll see by the days, we don't say goodbye. My mom who was laying there, I often think about that day.”

“Hey, I have a disease, it's a very specific one. I always panic and they have no therapies.”

“But still it hurts. Am running from myself. Cry the entire day for "help"

Joost would show you his tattoos, the ones he already had and the ones he wanted to get in the future, drawings he made, but he refused to show you the idea concepts for his Eurovision costume.

He told you he wanted it to be a surprise.

The day before he revealed his outfit to the rest of the world. He called you during a work break, telling you he had to show you something.

You opened the video call to see him standing there in a big bright blue suit with extremely pointy shoulders.

You felt bad when you let out a laugh, slapping your hand over your mouth to muffle it.

“You like it?” He asked, posing goofily.

“Yeah. It’s very…silly. Very big.” His grin only grew larger at your words.

“Perfect. That’s exactly what I was aiming for.” He smiled and sat down.

“So, your other friends, one of them is gonna dress up as a bird? And the other is gonna wear a clip on ponytail?”

“Yep!” He pipped. You just laughed and shook your head. He cleared his throat, his face on the screen looking nervous all of the sudden.

“So, you told me you still dance.”

“Yeah! I do group shows and stuff.” You nodded, placing your head on your fist.

“That’s great, very great. Um, do you still hakken?” You were a bit taken aback, confused by why he was asking about that specific dance.

“Uh yeah. But usually jokingly, like when I’m with friends.” You bit at your thumbnail. “Did you ever learn?”

“Yeah! I’ve gotten pretty good at it.” He chuckled, going silent for a minute after. “I’m wondering if you would perform with me, like on the stage. I need another back up dancer. And you’ve always been so talented at it.” His words made you blush, but you were still a bit unsure on what he was asking you.

“So, um, you want me to do the hakken dance with you? At your performance?” You felt nervous, when you did the dance you usually did it after a night of drinking to make your friends laugh.

“Only if you want to! I mean, we could meet up, I’m in Sweden now.”

“What?” You shouted, cringing at how loud it was.

“Yeah, i’ve been here to do interviews and all that stuff.” He scratched at his arms, a bit embarrassed he didn’t tell you earlier about this.

“You really don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” He spoke, “Its free of charge for you, you’ll get paid for it. If that persuades you.” He added on, joking.

“I’ll do it for free.” Maybe your answer was a bit too quick, maybe it was impulsive. But you really wanted to see Joost again, you’d jump at any chance you could see him.

The both of you agreed to meet up a few days later at a park not far from where you lived.

The park was quite empty, most likely due to the fact the sun was already going down, an orange gradient filling the sky.

You nervously walked up to him, he was sitting on a bench. He looked so familiar yet so different. It gave you a strange sense of nostalgia.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” He immediately grinned as he saw you. You sat down next to him.

The sunset cast a golden glow on his face, making his blue eyes so much more prominent, his face was so gorgeous.

“So you’ll really dance with me?”

“Yeah, why not.” You shrugged, completely unbothered by his question.

“You’ll be on a giant stage in front of thousands of people. You’ll be on TV with the entirety of Europe watching.” Joost felt nervous, he didn’t want to pressure you into doing this, he really wanted you to be there with himz But he wasn’t gonna force you into something you had no interest for.

“I’ve never been one for stage fright.” You smiled, the sweetness in your expression made his worries begin to drift away.

“Perfect.” He looked down at his feet, smiling so hard his cheeks begin to hurt, “I’ll text you the schedules and everything you need to know.”

“Cool.” You looked down at your shoes as well. Enjoying the comfortable silence and soft breeze of the air.

“I really missed you.” He spoke out, added your name to the sentence, making it more impacting. You looked at him, jaw ajar in admiration.

“I missed you too.” You said softly, placing your hand over his. Soon wrapping it around his. You both sat there for a few minutes like that.

“I’ve been thinking of moving back.” You broke the silence. “To the Netherlands, that is.”

“Really?” Joost looked at you, a mixture of amazement and shock in his face.

“Yeah. A company reached out to me, giving me a job opportunity. Really good pay, positive reviews, a safe workplace.” It felt funny, you were thinking about coming back to your hometown for the same reason your family made you leave.

“That’s great! You should take it!”

“I probably will. It seems promising.” You squeezed his hand. “And it’d be nice to be close to you again.” You added on, pursing your lips to try and hold back a smile, it failed.

“Yeah, yeah, that would be nice.” He murmured,“Um, I should get going, early TV interviews tomorrow.”

You nodded, getting up before he did.

“Just text me what channel you’ll be on, i’ll make sure to watch for you.” You said, a little bit too excitedly.

“Yeah, yeah, I will! I’ll see you later.” He chuckled.

“I’ll be in the Netherlands in a month most likely, just so you know. See you, Joost.” You turned, only getting a few steps in before his voice stopped you, causing you look back at him.

“There’s this really great ice cream parlor that opened up there, maybe we could, uh, go there when you’re back, if you’d like?” He cleared his throat.

“I’ll be going back in a month too, just for a little bit before I have to come here again.” He fiddled with his fingers.

“Awesome then, it’s a date.”

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

[chryblossomjjk]

distractions | jjk

⇢ PAIRING: fuckboy!jk x inexperienced reader

⇢ RATING: m/18+

⇢ WC: 1.1k

⇢ WARNINGS: cute couple content, they drop the 'l' word guys, n*pple piercings n sucking bc u know... fixation lmao, v suggestive but no actual sm*t, finger sucking lol, the love is requited :')

⇢ SUMMARY: jungkook agreed to let you do his makeup, but he can't stop getting distracted.

⇢ NOTES: ugh i missed them dearly!! will be putting out more drabbles soon, but i'm currently trying to focus on my other wip!! i haven't posted anything in so long so i wanted to share this with you guys! school n work is hectic i already feel swamped pls be patient with me :') i miss having time for a hobby lmao!! anyways, i hope you enjoy and let me know ur thoughts! love u <3 also apologize if there's any typos or weirdness, this wasn't beta'd!! if you haven't read practice yet, pls read before this!!

⇢ SERIES MASTERLIST

“Kook, look up! How many times do I have to tell you?” 

Four months into the relationship and his attention span, or lack thereof, never ceased to amaze you. With a frustrated groan, you place the pointy end of your Sailor Moon brush between your teeth before gripping his chin and turning his wandering gaze back to you. 

“Bambi, I’m looking up!” He yell-laughs, doe-eyes wide and sarcastic as they bear into you, equally frustrated. You can already see the concealer you applied just a few minutes ago creasing. Dramatically, he karate chops his tattooed arm towards the ceiling, paralleling your scantily clad frame straddling him. The sudden jump has you shifting against his crotch deliciously. Now’s not the time for fooling around, though. You’re determined to put the cute brush set Jungkook randomly gifted you a few weeks back to good use, starting with giving your sweet boyfriend a full beat. “This is up! What other direction is up?”

What an asshole. 

You pop the pink plastic out of your mouth, taking an annoyed chomp out of his annoying fingers. It's playful, of course. You mean, you’ve just got done with a whitening strip, after all…

Jungkook takes the opportunity to shove his digits further past your glossy lips, reaching down just enough to feel your throat constrict, then pulling back. He stares up at you with the cheesiest fucking grin, clearly pleased with himself.

“You’re mean,” you cough, wiping the drool at the corners of your mouth with the back of your hand.

“No you,” he counters, pinching your cheek patronizingly. “I love you, though.”

One month into the lovey-dovey phase of the relationship; that one where the initial butterflies fly away and you’re left feeling like ‘wow, maybe this is a forever sort of thing,’ and you still feel lightheaded every time Jungkook murmurs those three words.

“I love you, too,” you coo, reaching down to adjust his teddy-bear headband. Jungkook’s been growing his hair out. This was his last semester and he was determined to go out with a bang. For whatever reason, he had decided that bang was a mullet. You remember how confused you were when he showed up at your dorm at 3am, drunk off Fireball and excitement, asking you to cut his hair. You thought the request was outlandish and foolish, but you did it anyway, in your bathroom with eyebrow scissors. It came out a teeny bit crooked, and a tiny bit choppy, but Jungkook loved it, staring at his reflection with a big bunny smile and starry eyes. “But baby, this-” you tap on the headboard behind him, “-is up.”

He squints his eyes in defiance before complying. Ah, you’ve trained him well. A very good boy, indeed.

You’ve spoken, or thought, too soon, because after a few swipes of the plush bristles, a high-pitched ‘Appa!’ from your phone, leaning against your Kuromi makeup bag on the nightstand beside you, draws his dark pupils back to the cartoon. 

“That’s it,” you huff like an overwhelmed mother of three, yanking the device out of his sight. “Say goodbye to Aang. You’ve lost your Avatar: The Last Airbender privileges.” 

“C’mon, seriously?” He laughs while lunging forward, attempting to wrestle the phone out of your grasp. Giggling wildly, you toss it on the pink shag rug below you, out of his reach. The movement almost sends you toppling over. Luckily, Jungkook wraps an arm around your waist to keep you steady. “Bambi, you know I’m easily distracted.”

“But you said I could do your makeup,” you pout, batting your lashes at him.

“I know, I-”

“Don’t touch!” You shriek, preventing him from rubbing his eye.

“Sorry, sorry,” he apologizes through a chuckle, holding his hands by his head in defense. “Maybe I…” You deadpan him as his eyes scan around the room before, not so subtly, landing on your chest. Cocking his head, he tuts his tongue and grips the hem of your shirt. Shamelessly, he stuffs the nearly transparent material into your mouth, exposing your bare breasts. “There, just like that,” he whispers, warm palms grazing up your torso to cup them, thumbs grazing over your little diamond heart jewelry. You gasp at the touch. “You know, I still can’t believe you actually got ‘em’.” Neither could you, honestly, but if there was one thing Jungkook has taught you, it’s that sometimes, you need to step out of your comfort zone. Take risks. Especially when it results in the cutest little nipple piercings. “So fucking sexy…”

You feel his forming bulge poking against you. God, do you want him. But even Jungkook’s dick couldn’t derail you from the mission at hand. Raising an eyebrow, you lift up the makeup brush.

The tits really seem to keep him preoccupied. With a hand on his cheek, you feel his mouth hollowing, sucking your nipple gingerly as you lean over him and fill in his thick brows. Obviously, it’s a bit hard to focus. Every now and then, you have to tug his hair to redirect his nibbles back down to soft licks. 

“Okay,” you announce, letting the shirt fall from your candy-coated lips and sitting up, “what color?”

Out of the entire thirty-pan rainbow eyeshadow palette you’re holding up for him, he lazily points to the darkest shade in the top color. His favorite color, of course; black. You should’ve known. Your lips scrunch to the side in contemplation. Jungkook would look so yummy with a smokey eye.

So you blend and blend away with blacks, whites, and grays. Shockingly, your boyfriend manages to stay still throughout the entire process. You’re proud of him, really. He’ll definitely get rewarded afterward. And you were right, the final product is absolutely delectable. 

“Baby, your eyelashes are stunning!” You swoon. “And the smokey-eye looks so so so good with your eye shape.”

Silence.

“Jungkook?” You lean forward, gripping his shoulders and shaking softly. Nothing but the sound of faint snores reaches your ears. The little fuck fell asleep. No wonder why he’s been so good. You laugh in disbelief, picking your phone off the floor and snapping a few pictures to show him in the morning. Reaching into your drawer, you take out a couple makeup wipes and start cleaning him up. You loathe makeup wipes and only keep them for emergencies, but Jungkook looks so peaceful that you can’t bring yourself to wake him.

Next, you snuggle beside him with a spare blanket, unable to yank your comforter out from under his thick, muscular thighs. He stirs when you gently pull off his headband. “I love you…” he mumbles, still half asleep. It’s as if the emotion is so ingrained in his subconscious that they bubble to the surface, even when he’s sleepy and incoherent. 

And you feel the same exact way. 

“I love you, Jungkook. Goodnight.”

© chryblossomjjk 2023 [do not copy, translate or repost]

[beforeimdeceased]

…ELECTRIC LADY 📺💋🚬

pairing: 70s!ellie x reader

synopsis: the devil’s back in town and there’s no angel to save you.

author’s note: the lack of these ellie fics was baffling. LIKE THE MULLET IS RIGHT THERE! ib the lovely @ellabsweet

part one. > part two.

⋆˚✿˖°

“why’s she keep showing up?”

“well if you give a dog a bone.”

“oh fuck off i ain’t give her nothing but a good time. she’s the one asking me to leave with her to a different state.”

“road trip? maybe that’ll do you good.”

“you need to get fucked every which way and loose. you’re too uptight, doll.”

was why your feet were currently dangling outside the window of the ever charming girl’s 72 grey oldsmobile, cross hanging just above the dashboard. you bop your body a bit before reaching down to grab a tape she’d left on the passenger seat floor.

“aww man, jimi hendrix.” she nods, tapping her finger on the steering wheel. she’s leant back in the drivers seat, eyes cross with the road. cigarette tucked behind her right ear.

“you know, i don’t know you that well anymore. the city’s changed you.” you open her glove box to find a bottle of brown liquor and a light. “and yet you still agreed to come with me.”

“against my will.” you roll your eyes. it’d been three hours into the trip and you were feigning boredom. all the flavor had gone from your gum, and you weren’t in the mood for a book.

ellie was a country city country girl, cause it all happened in that exact order. a couple years ago she moved to where the buildings were brighter and the possibilities were endless. you’d actually been talking about her the day she came back.

“that’s ellie.” you point to the picture of the smiling girl pinned to the diner wall. “she’s a big star now, too good for us.” you explained to eilaine. she’d just moved into town and you two quickly bonded over music, makeup, and dancing. throw a little gossip in the mix while you’re at it.

you nearly chuck up your milkshake when the chime rings and the aforementioned movie star walks in. hands in her pockets and a smile on her face. she’d cut her hair into a mullet and was dressed like something you’d only seen in a magazine.

“speak of the devil.” you get up to give her a hug.

“and he shall appear.” she hugs back. “hi darling, i’ve missed you.”

a bit of light conversation over some drinks, nuts, and a game of pool that you lost had led you to be huddled up in the hot car with her. how the hell did she convince you to join her in that big city of hers? well it wasn’t all her, your roommates were dying to get you out of there.

“it’s only for a month? let her take you for longer!” dina says mid makeup. she hadn’t even evened out her eyeliner before she started sending you off. and abby was no help. “i can’t protest. i think it’d be good for you, we’ll have that sweet new girl cover your shifts.”

“did you guys plan this behind my back or something?” your eyes follow abby’s body swiftly moving to the closet to pull out a suitcase. “if we did you’d be gone already, now start packing.”

[wannaeatramyeon]

Seong Taehoon x Reader: Swim

G/N. Fluff. Missed this menace.

Finally. After all the time.

There's a sport that Taehoon doesn't excel at.

That he looks sorta pathetic doing. A fish out of water, except... Literally. Or maybe literally the opposite.

Seong Taehoon is a pretty atrocious swimmer. Sure he can swim, but he's neither fast nor skilled. Which is surprising considering his height and his long limbs; his strong shoulders and wide back and legs no one wants to be on the receiving end of.

You outlasted him after lengths and lengths of the pool with breast stroke. You're far quicker at front crawl and somehow he doesn't float particularly well for backstroke.

(Neither of you can do butterfly for shit, but that's a stroke for the weirdos or the gifted, likely both, so you ignore that.)

It's hilarious, and his silent outrage at his un-athleticness makes it all the funnier. Mood growing surlier as your swimming session goes on, only staying due to competitiveness and denial.

You do nothing to help. Taunting and teasing, mocking and provoking. So much so, that even you in your swimwear doesn't uplift him anymore.

Taehoon's saving grace is, he's a pretty comma atrocious swimmer.

And heavens, is pretty an understatement.

He's distracting enough when you're out and about together, fully clothed. Strip him of his jeans and jackets and even the absurdly tight shirts; put him in a pool and in swim trunks... Well.

There is hard muscle as far as the eye can see and legs that go on for miles. Rivulets running down his chest and highlighting his abs. Skin tantalising, flushed with exertion and cheeks tinged pink.

Even the stupid mullet that you at first tolerated, then grown fond, is slicked back. His hair, maybe for the first time ever, is hot. Oh so pretty features on full display and you know everyone here has given Taehoon at least a glance.

If you weren’t so obviously better than him, consistently beating him in the water, you would have no doubt had trouble keeping your hands off him.

"Let's go," he says, interrupting your ogling and shoving you towards the ladder.

"Taehoon~" you whine, trying to plant yourself to no avail, and he gives you a look, "Don't you wanna swim a bit more?"

"I've had enough of your gloating, you lil asshole," he gives you another push, "and enough of people staring."

"You're too pretty for your own good," you scoff, "Cry me a river."

Taehoon exhales, short and sharp to signal he's at the end of his patience with you. It takes a good while longer to get there than for other people, yet he gets there nonetheless.

"I mean at you, dumbass."

"Oh," You notice him practically snarling at a group of boys nearby who have been looking for a moment too long.

"Yeah oh,” he mimics, “Now let's get the fuck out of here."

"Like you care," Taehoon might be right, but why give up the chance to poke the bear one last time? "You're only saying that because you're a sore loser."

He narrows his eyes, displaying full well his annoyance. "You want me to beat your ass?"

"Only if you can catch me!" You kick off the side and start swimming away at speed.

Taehoon shouts, swallowing a mouthful of water as he ungracefully cuts through the water.

"You fuck-!" Cough, sputter. "Get back here!"

[shatterinseconds]

“It’s a simple three step beat; what aren’t you understanding about it, Mullet?” Lance asks, annoyance beginning to leak through his voice. He’s tried to cap his frustration as much as possible throughout the past hour. But this has become ridiculous. If anything, Keith has gotten worse at dancing than when they started the lesson. Brief pain sparks through Lance’s foot and he cracks. “And stepping on my toes isn’t one of them!”

“Some of us didn’t get three years of ballroom dance lessons,” Keith snaps, irritated. 

“Which is why I’m teaching you. But you’re not listening to a single thing I say! You can’t even get close to me.” Lance tries to tug Keith forward but he remains just as stubborn as always, aggravating and infuriating. 

What looms between them is a larger gap than needed, with Keith holding him at an arm’s length as if he’s a poisonous snake ready to bite. A balloon would fall straight through to the floor; Lance’s arms are almost entirely extended. He thought Keith would be a little more willing considering the stake of the mission. 

Keith clenches his jaw. “I’m trying.”

“For someone as coordinated as you on the battlefield, this shouldn’t be this difficult.” Lance scowls, taking a page out of Keith’s book.

“Me not knowing how to dance isn’t going to break the alliance.”

“Were you even listening to Allura?”

“Were you?” Keith bites back, too smirky for Lance’s taste. Yeah, he may have been fiddling with his comm device under the table, trying to play an old earth game Pidge had downloaded onto it. That’s beside the point.

So Lance ignores him. “The Zolxox see dance as a creation of trust and loyalty between two groups of people. If we miss a step, they won’t join the coalition.”

“But why’d it have to be us?” The Zolxox only needed a pair of dancers, not their whole team.  

Lance rolls his eyes. “Because I have three years of dance experience, duh.” But his annoyance quickly fades when Keith doesn’t snap back with their classic banter. In fact, he continues to stand there, his hands not exactly touching Lance anymore but hovering. Keith stares at him with such a blank expression that Lance allows a bit of the truth to spill. “And–And because I work best with you,” he mumbles, ducking his head to avoid any minute reaction from Keith. When he does flick his gaze up, Keith remains impassive. “But you gotta listen to me, Mullet. Why won’t you just follow what I say?”

That’s when Lance loses Keith entirely. He steps back from Lance, arms folded against his chest, not loose at all. Keith can’t seem to look at him anymore either. “It’s awkward… being close to you.”

“Oh.” Lance drops his empty hands, suddenly despondent. He didn’t know Keith felt that way about him. He thought they’d finally become friends, maybe inching toward something more. Maybe Lance should have chosen Allura for this mission like everyone thought he would. His shoulders begin to hunch forward.

“Shit, no, not in that way.” Keith groans as he cards a hand through his hair, frustrated at himself. Strands stick out in multiple directions, silly enough that Lance wants to punch through whatever new wall is between them and fix it for him. But Keith wouldn’t appreciate that. “I just meant, I know the way I feel about you isn’t how you feel about me and I don’t want to make it weird for you.”

“How do you know how I feel about you if you never once asked?”

Keith gives him a look. “Please. You flirt with everyone but me. Even I understand what that means.”

“That’s not—That’s—Oh my god—” Lance suddenly steps forward, waving his arms as he talks, too flustered to be rational. “With everyone else, it’s fun, meaningless, a way to lighten the mood.” His skin heats enough that he must be glowing from embarrassment. “But you—With you, it’s different. I try to spend time together and constantly try to get your atten—wait.” Eyes popping wide, Lance starts to point, jabbing his finger into Keith’s chest. “You just told me you liked me!” His brain finally internalizes what Keith had said, what Keith implied. It immediately derails his train of thought. “You like me!”

Keith startles before his entire expression pinches. He growls. “Uh uh, we’re focusing on you and your terrible flirting techniques.” He steps up to Lance and keeps stepping toward him until he is the only thing Lance can focus on. Those violet eyes bore into Lance, head tilted and brows drawn. “How was I supposed to know I was different?” he asks, low and steady. 

“Goddammit, Keith.” Lance surges forward and kisses Keith square on the mouth. His hands weave through Keith’s hair, musing it further, while Keith’s strong grip lands on his waist, fingers hooking into his belt loops. He pulls Lance in and tugs on his lower lip, his teeth scraping slightly but in a way that buzzes across Lance’s skin. When they part, Lance is breathless with swollen lips and eyes half-lidded. It’s a struggle to speak but he manages to mumble, “Does that clear things up?”

Keith nods. Blush stains his pale cheeks though he holds Lance’s stare, never wavering, and he even starts to smirk the longer they remain in silence. Like he knows that he affected Lance just as much as Lance affected him. 

He’s going to be the death of Lance one day; this man…

“G-Good,” Lance finally says, struggling to regain his composure, if he ever had some to begin with. “We’ll talk about this later. But right now, we dance.”

Kith groans, though less annoyed than before, and for the first time, effortlessly moves all the way into Lance’s space, smiling a small smile. They dance without any issues, except for maybe a few butterflies.

[ipegchangbin]

— lines, lines, and more lines

hyunjin x reader | 4.5k words

♡ ... accompanying playlist. Hyunjin stared at the unfinished painting. It always seemed to stare back. And its eyes — it had none — looked like yours.

❥ angst. hurt, comfort. hopeful ending. ❥ not beta read. gender neutral reader (no pronouns). past breakup. declining mental health (depression). mentions of suggestive activity. exes to…

📝 happy valentine’s day! art & playlist by me. otherwise, enjoy.

18+ only. minors do not interact.

Should he have called you?

He loves all sorts of art. He has not once ever hated a single piece, thinking that all works were masterpieces in their own right.

Standing in the corner of the room, though, was a canvas he hated to see. Hyunjin didn’t dislike your unfinished painting, but he hated being reminded of what could’ve been.

It had been a year yet nothing in that corner of the room had changed. He always used the studio, of course, the large open workspace full of ideas that came to fruition and stored the ones that didn’t in unsealed paint cans and palettes with stories in them.

The room was littered — half-clean thanks to weekly maintenance — but not dusty. It was a calculated mess, typical for an artist, atypical for a depressed romantic.

Because all but one goddamn corner of the room changed. That one painting stood on that easel, paint dried yet not chipping once off its canvas.

It was supposed to be a portrait of his face. You finished the perimeter of his head, his bangs and mullet colored in, and an underpainting of his skin was in the works. His lips were as luscious as you used to claim — one of his favorite compliments, he wouldn’t admit — and they were frozen in an ever-present gentle smile. He didn’t have any eyes yet, but your rendition of him stared back at Hyunjin like a warped reflection in moving water.

Yet it seemed to stand still in time.

That’s why he called you. After months of no contact, he dialed you up at 2 AM in a state of slightly calmed panic. Hyunjin wasn’t thinking; he didn’t want to think, not anymore. All he wanted was to see you.

He bit his lips that you once said were luscious and full. The anticipation in his system only seemed to outweigh the feeling of his teeth clamping his lower lip.

Autopilot drew over his actions. Your phone rang. His own vibrated in his hand. He allowed the speaker to ring across the colorfully-decorated walls of the studio.

Please, pick up.

“Hello?”

Hyunjin blinked and suddenly he was back to where he was. The call had been over twenty minutes ago. It would be approximately ten more minutes before you’d arrive at his doorstep.

Was that really your voice that he heard?

Can’t be stupid, of course that was you. There was no mistaking the calm and soothing timbre of a voice that had just awoken, not from sleep, but from resting a stretch of time without speech.

Maybe he dreamt it up again? No, he didn’t. Then, why did he do that?

Hyunjin, are you fucking stupid? He couldn’t help his thoughts.

It’s no secret that he’d slip into that same blurry headspace, the one where he’d stop thinking and just do. Do things. Do whatever. It would take a bone to the head for him to even stop him at this state and it was painfully clear whenever he was in this trance.

He wouldn’t speak much. He’d pick up whatever he was supposed to hold and focus with deathly control. He’d zone in instead of out; this regularly occurred when he was painting, and he’d lose track of thought and simply keep going.

Is that why my works are more soulless lately? I don’t think when I make them. Hyunjin waved a hand in front of his sleepy eyes.

The downside to this was that, after the autopilot switches off, the flurry of thoughts would race and speed and subsequently crash. His thoughts were bullet trains that resumed motion and his head had tracks suddenly converging at a point. It’s wild, even to him, and he still isn’t sure if he’s gotten used to it yet.

All that he knew is that he missed you dearly.

You would know him better than he does. You would know how to comfort him. You would know — no, understand him better. Process his feelings more than he could ever do alone.

He never knew what love was until he loved you. He still loves you. It’s a love that eats away at him, as it’s the only love he knows.

It’s the only love he had. It’s the only love he lost.

Knock, knock, knock.

And it’s the only love that answers his call.

Startled by the sudden noise, Hyunjin got up from the dark amber floors of his well-loved studio and stopped staring at the painting.

It told him something. It seemed to know that someone was there. The artist behind his unfinished face, you, returned to his home no matter how absent-minded he seemed to be as he called you.

But he could leave the door unanswered. He could half-lie, pretend that he was drunk and fell asleep, text you a simple apology. It could be simpler.

But you were waiting so patiently by his door.

Curse you. Why have you always been patient with him? Why do you always wait for him? He didn’t deserve you, didn’t deserve to date you then break up with you. He didn’t deserve to waste a single second of your time.

Even if you weren’t together anymore, why do you wait so loyally for him behind a door that won’t open in the dead middle of the night?

Hyunjin pondered whether or not to unlock the entrance and let you back into his life at least for one more fleeting moment.

“Sorry for making you wait,” he said, guiding you through the halls of his house as if you hadn’t memorized it by now.

Maybe he wanted the moment to feel special all over again. After several months of calling it quits, he wanted to make it feel as if you re-entered a dream from where you left off.

Ignore that it looked nightmarish now. If it at least holds any bearing, it did feel like you picked up from where you left off, though.

The more you traversed the familiar walls you once called home, the more it seemed apparent that life and time both flowed and stopped within the house. Some things were stuck in time, like the one-fourth full shampoo bottle sitting in your former corner of his shower. The sink was newly wet, water still dripping from the porcelain. It wasn’t like you wanted to pry, but the bathroom door was wide open to begin with, the scene more apparent when you noticed Hyunjin sniffling behind you.

Did he break down in the restroom again?

You knew he always did that. He didn’t have the habit of keeping to himself, but when he didn’t want to display his vulnerability to you, the same bathroom became his space if an outlet. Drawings weren’t always an answer, especially if it was his job, so he’d sob in the restroom — and it seemed, in his dissociative episode, he cried for a minute before calling you.

You walked further into the house. Your steps creaked against the wooden flooring that he promised to fix several months ago — had it been a year?

Maybe so. You haven’t used the same brand of the three-fourths empty shampoo bottle since last year. You switched brands since you left him.

He must’ve noticed. Hyunjin always made it known to you that he loved taking whiffs of your scent when you once were lovers. Now that he was trailing behind you while simultaneously guiding you through the depressive home, he must’ve realized that once was a lavender-scented head became lemon and lime.

It was unfamiliar. It shouldn’t affect Hyunjin. It’s just you. You’ve changed, so did the house, so did he, but it wasn’t anywhere near your level of maturation and growth.

Because how the fuck does a change of shampoo beat an unchanging home?

“Hyune,” you called to him, “do you need help with anything over here?”

He blinked. Even he didn’t know why he called you.

“I thought you needed help with the furniture?”

Right…right? He said that? Caught up in the sight of you after months, Hyunjin didn’t even remember his own excuse. He just craved to see you. See the person you grew to become.

See the person who left for the sake of love.

“Oh, yeah, I do.” Hyunjin sniffled with a weak smile. “Had to move a table in our—the studio, but your stuff’s in there.”

A genuine shock washed over you. “Shit, I forgot some things? I’m sorry.”

Hyunjin shouldn’t be this delighted to see your emotions.

He always loved watching you talk. He listened with full observation, relishing in the way you expressed yourself because you were beyond entertaining. You were his opposite, but also his twin flame. So maybe that was why it burnt his chest with charred edges to see that you were so much more confident in your words.

Was it speech therapy? Was it freedom? Was it because you left him, that you learned to love yourself more? Was it really not him, but you? “It’s not you, it’s me?”

Shit. He was overthinking again. His temples started to hurt more than it did. Sweating and despairing and wondering when — if it would all end by staring at you long enough.

He led you through the corner leading up to the studio. The first thing you saw, thankfully, wasn’t the mess he was creating around the corner; it was your painting. The haunting aura of Hyunjin’s portrait seemed to surprise you, taking one step back on your left leg. The studio was rampant of Hyunjin’s constant and bustling work ethic and then there was your corner, pristine in the way that it hadn’t moved at all. The painting stared at you both. You wondered if that had really been the state at which you left it — the state at which you left him.

You’re not the same. There’s comfort in the fact that you’re still you, the you he fell for and cherished. The you that he deemed his darling. His co-artist, his muse.

Standing in his studio after months, taking a gander at your unfinished work; you have the same backside but your silhouette has changed. Hyunjin couldn’t seem to grasp it. How could he, when you were his one and only love?

“God, that thing’s still there,” you joked. For a moment, Hyunjin’s thoughts seemed to calm themselves as you both chuckled silently.

“It’s funny, I stare at your painting and it looks like it’ll never crack.” He pointed at the painting, forgetting about the furniture he pretended to need help with. “You haven’t even varnished it and yet I feel more brittle than it ever will be.”

There’s a solemn look in his eyes as he stared at the spitting image of him, albeit rough around the edges and eyeless.

“Bits and pieces of my heart chipped when you left,” he whispered, though you caught it.

He bit his tongue to keep himself from uttering the petname “darling.” Force of habit, even after months — yet nobody could blame him, especially after you left him to wonder what you both were.

He knew how to mix orange paint better than knowing the mix of emotions you gave him.

“I’m sorry?”

The guilt washed over his shoulders as he realized that he spoke aloud, suddenly hoping that you could just go back to furnitures. He pretended to clear his dusty table, only for your hand to catch his. Skin on skin had never felt this refreshing. He’d realized that he never had another being touch him after you left.

“No, nevermind, I—”

“Hyune, no, I’m sorry.” The sincerity in your voice gave him goosebumps that he hoped you hadn’t felt under your palm. “I didn’t think I’d affect you like this…”

“It’s nothing big, really,” he scoffed, his own eye bags from losing sleep over you proving him otherwise. Hyunjin started feeling weird, like his head was spinning and he could faint at any moment. He was losing balance while holding onto the table. All he wanted was for you to talk.

Your concern only ever grew. “But you even kept the painting like that. Why didn’t you just take it down?”

You turned to him after he gave no response.

He thought and thought until he lost himself in a sea of overwhelming ideas and questions. He tried to come up with answers until he concluded that these were the same questions he’d ask himself every single day as he worked in the same exact studio. If only his clutter could talk, they’d know his secret; he’d stare at your art in between his works and mourn.

Mourn the future he couldn’t have with you. Mourn the lost love.

“Couldn’t take it down I guess.” Hyunjin huffed, defeated. “I just…couldn’t.”

That’s when it hit you. A lot of things in his house were merely things he simply couldn’t let go of.

The shampoo bottle from earlier. The painting. Trinkets stacked in the corners of the hallway you slowly walked through were keychains that you and Hyunjin bought at art fairs together. The hat you’d been missing was hanging by the entrance all along, untouched. Some brushes in his studio were yours.

He’d been stuck in a limbo between the past and present, unable to see a future from the dust on his table. Hyunjin stood in silence as you both shared a knowing look.

A look you couldn’t even spare him when you left.

For the past months, he couldn’t stop fixating on the last time you made love — the night before you left. It was great, satisfying and full of sweat and tears, full of kisses and promises that you’ll be back someday. You were going to focus on yourself, that you realized that love isn’t for you if you didn’t love yourself first. Hyunjin believed in it. He believed in you. You weren’t lying, but you weren’t sure of your words either. You figured that was the point of leaving, so that you’d “come back” as a sure, secure, and mature person.

It’s just that the world had been so unkind to you both. The things that you used to enjoy with him became something of nothing, and you realized that it was your end that needed fixing. To you, coming back wasn’t a promise to Hyunjin. To him, it was something he was willing to wait for even until the next lifetime. Love to you was for yourself to grow and familiarize with, but love to him was something he only knew through you.

That was the last time he’d ever touched another person, let alone himself. That was the last time he had ever uttered “I love you.” But maybe, just maybe, you were too set on leaving to care about the sex. It was full of love to him but it was probably empty to you. It was probably one last promise that you wanted to fulfill—let go of. You didn’t even pack your shampoo bottles when you left.

Hyunjin sat on the ground, legs about to give in from the sheer weight of his emotions and thoughts. You followed suit, sitting beside him.

I feel weird again.

Hyunjin clutched his arms closer to his chest, squeezing his knees in between the embrace, trembling in fear of another barrage of racing thoughts consuming him, eating away at his space.

There was nothing he could do about it. It always just seemed to happen.

Everything hurt, his brain was throbbing, your presence alone was too much in his shitty abode that he calls a home, his studio is one shabby excuse of a room that shouldn’t have you in it, you didn’t deserve to be here, in his place, in his damned, shitty place—

“Hyune.”

You reached out behind yourself to grab his arm.

“You’re not okay.”

It took two full, quiet seconds before anything. You stared not at his arm, but his eyes.

“Thought it was obvious,” he tried to joke. Once he caught a glimpse of your unwavering concern, he looked back down.

You made the grip on his arm firmer. You stroked his forearm with your thumb. It seemed to ground your ex, but he still felt just as broken as he was earlier.

“I’m sorry.” You sighed. “I keep saying it but I don’t think it’ll ever be enough. I’m sorry I left you like this. I’m sorry I even left you. I just…you know that I had to do this for me, for us…”

You felt something in your throat. You swallowed it. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to forgive me. I know how shitty it is and now, I’m here for you.”

Hyunjin wordlessly listened, nodding at your now-real and sincere promises. Tears were falling down his eyes in the same tracks his previous tear stains ran down.

Your painting had been staring at you this whole time, the strokes around the eyes sticking out like sore thumbs to him — they were more of pinky promises to you, left hanging and ignored yet still innocently waiting.

“Let’s fix that,” you sighed.

“What?”

You looked at Hyunjin with a smile, half fond and half despondent. “May I finish this real quick?”

Hyunjin simply stared at you. The tears in his eyes fell but he didn’t dare blink. His eyes were wide open, in awe of your smile, scorn growing in his chest that you are both incredibly hurt people.

He hated, still hates, and will always hate the way that this world wronged either of you to the extent that you smile with unhappiness.

Alas, you got up to finish your work, thinking he nodded when he didn’t.

You stumbled to get up on two legs, struggling in your trembling body to even put a hand on your knee to get up. It was less of heartbroken now and more of tired, emotionally exhausted, sleepy, and slightly frustrated at the sight of your unfinished work.

Though it was your painting that your chose to abandon for months, you finally took the brush and picked up a surprisingly active thinner and a semi-dry pigment — random color that you couldn’t bother to check — off his palette with its bristles. You started slashing in a semi-calculative fashion, not minding the strokes but rather the picture you were painting, burning butterflies from your brain right onto the canvas.

Hyunjin stared curiously with hands on his knees still close to his chest. The eyes that were promised on the canvas became less and less like his own until they weren’t.

And there they were, butterflies sitting on a portrait of his face.

“There,” you said, accomplished. For some reason though, the lump in your throat returned.

You figured it was the thought of slightly finishing in the way you never intended to. You remembered working on the piece while you were still together, promising to paint him a portrait as a signifier of your love for him. He sat in front of your easel for hours, not because you couldn’t paint his face right, but because you and him couldn’t finish your work from laughing together and talking endlessly.

You couldn’t get it done even if you wanted to just because he loved you so much. He loved you enough to make you smile and laugh. He loved you to the point of obsession and fixation. Nowadays, you aren’t sure how you feel about that, but then, it was refreshing and alive.

Maybe that’s what killed love for you. You didn’t want him and his explosive bouts of love to get in the way of your love for your work, your life, yourself. You loved him, you still do. It’s no question. So, what is it?

Is it that you didn’t love him the way he loved you?

You left to focus on yourself. You left to find the love that you needed for yourself. Or maybe, is this his consequence of loving too much?

Or did you not love him the same?

“It’s…” Hyunjin slowly spoke, “it’s so pretty.”

Your eyes sparkled at him. He was fixated on the butterfly in your painting.

“Your work is always so beautiful.”

“Thank you,” you nervously said. The tears started to pool by your eyes. The nostalgia, the pain in his voice, the longing for you and him…was it all too much?

Hyunjin seemed to have an answer.

“Though we won’t be certain about what’s in store for us,” he mustered up the courage to say, “I’m certain that you’ll always be in my picture.”

“What if I don’t want to be in your picture anymore?” You asked.

Hyunjin’s lips shut.

You didn’t know what overcame you when you said that. The frustration of thoughts, from having to answer your ex’s call and seeing him break down like this, to questioning the love that you still have for him. It was all much.

“I’ll be hurt,” he sniffled, “I’ll respect it.”

While you were at it, you had to ask. “Is it selfish to say that I wish you didn’t love me so that you leaving would’ve been easier?”

A part of you wished this too much. You hoped that he could just move on. But again, how could he? How could he when you were his first, his supposed last? You were the one who taught him love and he loved you with his all. It’s not a love that you’re used to and it’s not a type of love you could give to him let alone yourself.

Your eyes shifted towards the painting again when he couldn’t answer, until you felt his hand reaching out for yours.

“I love you most. It isn’t selfish, but I think I’m selfish for still yearning. You just know me better than I know myself.” Hyunjin spoke with a sudden eloquence that gave you shivers.

It wouldn’t last long.

“Thank you.” You held his hand with your other. “But Hyunjin…you should know yourself better than most.”

“Darling—” His voice broke slightly. The habit creeped back, betraying his tongue as it chased you. “Y/N, I don’t even know anything, so how else am I supposed to do that with myself?”

It became trickier to respond as his tears exploded. “Then understand yourself,” you said, “It’s hard, it sucks, but look. You have to care for yourself before you get to love others.”

“Like you?” He asked with swollen, slightly bitten lips. “You know yourself.”

“I don’t. Not yet. Not completely.”

Hyunjin nodded with sorrow in his eyes. “It’s just…”

He took a deep breath as he glanced at the butterfly. It seemed like a breed of bug that would be free in the wind. He wished to become that, a wandering creature with beauty and nothing in its simple mind but the love of life.

Hyunjin exhaled.

“I’ve been trying to accept that you left because you found yourself, and I’m happy for you. But I can’t help myself. I can’t help but think about you. I can’t help but miss you. I can’t help thinking about how you are, I can’t help staring at the things you left for me, I can’t help the thought that—”

You don’t love me.

“That…th-that…you’re better off without me.”

Holding his hand tighter, you urged him to look at you. “Hyunjin…that isn’t the case. At all.”

“Yet I can’t help it. I…I can’t lose you.” He started choking in his words. “I see my own portrait and all I’ll think about is you.”

Words started to hit like pangs to your chest. He’s right; it’s difficult to separate the art from the artist especially in your circumstances. He couldn’t let the notion of you go at all.

“You painted it. You stared at me. I’ll never forget the concentrated face you made while drawing me. It all goes back to you, and I love you, and I just…”

“Hyunjin…”

“I’m so stupid. I’m sorry. You don’t need to hear any of this. It’s so early, I…” He gulped and bit his bottom lip. “And I can’t kick you out now. God. I’m so fucking stupid…”

Pity and sincere concern washed over you. “You aren’t.” You’ve been in this scene before, back when you were together. Hyunjin’s grateful that you still have the right words to say. “Hyune…I still care for you deeply. I love you.”

“I love myself too and I’m sorry I prioritized myself. I left you in the dark. I’m so, so sorry.”

He tilted his head at that. “No. You deserve to be happy.” He’s right, there was no need to be sorry for choosing yourself when he could only choose you too.

You tried to smile. “Hyune, I always hope that you’ll be happy too.”

A few seconds of silence passed before a glint amidst your ex’s crying appears in his very real eyes.

“We can go back to painting maps. I hope by then, you’ll find yourself too.”

Profound words became skipped heartbeats. If you knew what to say, then he would always be ahead. That’s what you loved about him.

“If I do find it…the way back…” Hyunjin stuttered, “Will you come back to me too?”

“Maybe.” You smiled. “There’s a point that fate will take me to. Hope to meet you at that point.”

The both of you prepared coffee as purple streaks of daylight broke into the sky. You caught up with yourselves and shared a few jokes over the dining table. It had been a while since Hyunjin — nor you — felt this kind if human connection again. The bitterness of the caffeine and sweetness of the sugar would be fitting for you both if it weren’t for the fact that you both downed your drinks with ease, just as you would before.

Things are different, things are the same. Hyunjin promised to be healthier. You picked up one of his extra paper bags and got some of your stuff.

“Hyune, I want to apologize one last time,” you turned to him. “Sorry I pulled the “it’s not you, it’s me” thing even if I knew next to nothing either. And sorry for leaving this.”

You held up the unopened shampoo bottle next to your head. Hyunjin blinked before smiling fondly.

“Do you still want it?”

“Well, you probably need it.”

“I have stock of a new one at home. I miss this one though. Do you mind?”

Familiarity returned at last once you gave him the look with the big, curious eyes.

Hyunjin realized that you, no matter the distance, were never going to be too far from his heart.

Like a butterfly, it always returns to the flowers. Chipped paint can be retouched with new, brighter pigment. Love isn’t off the table, it changes — it grows. Maybe it branches in different directions, but just like butterflies, they don’t fly in straight paths.

He smiled wider when he realized he took too long to respond.

“Not at all.”

thank you for reading ! consider reblogging and leaving feedback if you loved my work 💗 writing © ipegchangbin

[specialagentlokitty]

Hannibal lector x reader - unravelling

Part 1:

Sitting down on the back of the bench, you rested your arms on your knees as you glanced at the man next to you, taking the coffee cup from him to drink some.

“You know we can’t survive on coffee alone, when are you going to actually eat a proper meal?”

“Shut up Kyle.”

He grinned a little at you, taking the coffee cup back to take a sip from it.

“You coming by later?”

You nodded your head, grabbing his arm so you could take a look at his watch.

“Yeah, I’ve got nothing else to do.”

“So you’re not blowing off your boss? Or your therapy?”

Scoffing, you rolled your eyes.

“Don’t even go into it.”

“I won’t, but I reckon those three might.”

He pointed to the side and you turned to look at the three men walking over and you sighed heavily, snatching the coffee cup from him, downing the rest.

“Come on! That was mine!” Kyle whined.

“I’ll buy you another, I’m going to need it trust me.”

He hummed a little bit, standing up, holding his fist out to you.

“Catch you on the other side.”

You nodded, tapping your fist against his, and he mock saluted to three that had stopped just in front of you before he walked away.

You turned to the three that had came over.

“What?” You asked.

“Hannibal says you’ve been avoiding your therapy sessions.” Will frowned.

You shrugged a little bit, running a hand through your hair, climbing down from the bench in front of them all.

Crossing your arms, you turned your attention to Jack, narrowing your eyes a little bit.

“Told you I’m not part of the FBI anymore, stop getting involved in my life.”

“We’re concerned, we’re your friends, we want to make sure you’re alright and we can’t do that if you keep declining all of our calls.”

“Yeah, well maybe you should’ve thought about that before you sent me on a case alone without backup.”

Walking past, you stopped by Hannibal, offering him a small nod of your head.

“Doctor Lector, I’d appreciate if you cancelled all future appointments.”

“Perhaps we could talk about this beforehand?” He asked.

You didn’t say anything as you walked away, making your way to the bar you had began to call a second home, sitting yourself on a stool.

“The usual?” The woman asked.

“And a cigarette if you’ve got one Anna.”

She smiled at you, sliding a glass over to you, and you took a sip from it, taking the cigarette she had just lit.

You took a drag, and pointed to a few of the bottles behind her.

“Might wanna hide them.”

“Doves?”

You shook your head, pulling your phone out of your pocket to show her all of the missed calls and texts from everybody.

She nodded, placing all the things under the counter, and she leant over it, taking your phone so she could read through everything.

“You ever thought maybe therapy could help?”

“With that? It isn’t going to lead me to the person I’m looking for.”

She gave a small nod.

“Maybe not, but come on (Y/N) we all know what you’ve been through. It could help make everything clear. You’re so hell bent on this you’re going to get yourself killed doing it.”

You glared a little bit at Anna.

“I don’t care, the asshole that fucked my life deserves the same amount of shit that I’ve been through.”

She sighed softly, pulling at your longish hair a little bit.

“Can I at least give you a haircut, this is getting out of hand and you look like you live in the wild.”

“What you thinking?”

She hummed a little bit, walking around the bar and stood in front of you with her hands on her hips as she tilted her head to the side.

“I’m kind of thinking a mullet, you know like shave around the sides, you can still style it however you want. Plus I really want to see if it’s gonna grow back white or (H/C).”

You laughed a little, shrugging your shoulders.

“Go nuts Anna, do whatever.”

She grinned brightly, and dragged a chair over to the middle of the bar, and you sat on it while you waited for her to finish with your hair.

You were just having a small talk with her while she cut your hair, and when she finished she ruffled it, handing you a mirror while she cleaned up.

You looked at it, brushing your hair aside to look at the shaved sides, and you stood up, setting the mirror on the chair.

Bending your head down, you ruffled your hair for a few seconds before standing up, brushing it back with your hand.

“I like it, it’s refreshing to have a new look in a way.”

“Wasn’t a hairdresser for years for no reason.”

“It’s still weird you decided to open a bar for ghouls instead but you do you Anna.”

She laughed, going back behind the bar and held up your phone that had started to ring again.

“It’s your therapist.”

“Decline it.”

She hung up on Hannibal, and you stayed there for a few hours, meeting Kyle there for a little while before heading back to your apartment.

You went for a shower, and stood in front of the covered mirror as you dried your hair, tossing the towel aside as you pulled a sweater on, trying not to look at the large scar across your stomach.

Leaving your bathroom, you went to the kitchen to make yourself some coffee, and you walked to the living room to turn on the Tv while you waited for it to be ready.

“Hey.”

You turned to the front door, looking at the slightly beat up man that walked through.

“Doves?”

“More and more out each day. Here.”

He tossed your a neatly wrapped package in brown paper, and you caught it, heading to the kitchen to put it on a plate.

You grabbed your coffee and plate, sitting down to eat while you watched whatever was going on with the world at the moment.

Finishing the food you were given you set the plate down, picking up your coffee cup, taking a couple of sips as your roommate came back out.

“Seriously don’t leave that shit laying around.”

He took your plate, going to wash it for you.

“Sam?”

You heard him hum a little bit.

“Anna said I should stop hunting the man who did this to me.”

“Do you think you should?”

He walked out from the kitchen, leaning against the doorway, crossing his arms.

“No. I mean come on, if he did this to me then who knows how many he’s already done this too, or how many more he’s planning.”

Sam nodded his head.

“Do you think he’ll do it again?”

“You’ve got to be seriously fucked to put ghoul organs in a human just to see if it would work.”

Sam sighed a little bit, walking over to sit in front of you on the table.

“All I’ll say is don’t act rashly (Y/N), with the doves crawling about, on the hunt for ghouls, trying to track down members of the hell hounds. Which means you’re in twice as much danger.”

You sighed, nodding your head as you slumped back into the couch.

“Look, I’m going to do whatever I have to do Sam, plus you didn’t have to follow me.”

“Considering you’re still pretty new to our world, and you’re currently running ranks in the biggest ghoul organisation in the state, and you just took over three wards of the city, I’m going to say I did.”

You smiled a little bit.

“You’re a good friend.”

He shrugged a little bit.

“It’s easier to pay rent with you living here, so can’t exactly have you dying on me.”

“Wow, okay and I thought we were friends.”

He scoffed a little bit.

“Yeah, liked I’d be friends with a once human. That’s gross.”

“Aw come on Sam!”

You reached out to hug him and he pushed you back down on the couch, standing up as there was a knock on the door.

“Get away from me.”

You chuckled a little bit, watching as he went to answer the door, and you got up to go make yourself some more coffee.

You took a deep breath, and froze slightly, turning your attention to the doorway as Sam and Will appeared.

“Visitor.”

“Thanks Sam. Coffee?”

“Going to the bar.”

You nodded, turning to Will, gesturing to the coffee and he nodded his head so you made him a cup as well, handing it over to him.

You walked back to the couch, sitting down, and he sat down where Sam had been sat a few minutes ago.

“You cut your hair. Why?”

“It was about time, it was getting in the way. Why’re you here Will?”

He set his cup down.

“Because you need help, your accident was nearly two years ago (Y/N), you quite the FBI just over a year ago, now you’re abandoning your therapy?”

“I don’t need therapy, I’m fine.”

“You went missing for three months.”

“Needed time away.”

You took a sip of your coffee.

“You moved apartments, changed your whole friend group, appearance. I know you (Y/N), I grew up with you and this isn’t you.”

“Look Will, I got my life you have yours. Leave it at that.”

He shook his head.

“No. No something is off about you. Different.”

“Yeah, I was in an accident were I was in a horrific car accident. I think that kind of shit changes people Will.”

“That’s why you need to talk to Hannibal, come on please. The FBI are paying for it, so you don’t have to worry about that. You won’t talk to me, so please talk to somebody.”

Will looked at you, white hair, emotionless (E/C) eyes, you looked paler and skinner than the last time he had seen you a few months ago.

“I don’t recognise you anymore…” he whispered.

“Yeah. Maybe it’s for the better.”

You downed your coffee, and went back into the kitchen hoping that he would get the hint and leave, but he didn’t.

He walked into the kitchen, standing against the counter.

“Please just come by Hannibal’s office tomorrow evening. Think about it (Y/N), we all want to help you.”

Will gave you a small smile and he left, leaving you to think about what he had said.

You spent the whole night awake thinking about it as you sat at your desk, going through your medical files like you did every night.

Nothing ever changed, you never saw anything different, but you kept looking just in case.

You didn’t leave your room at all the following day, your phone kept lighting up with texts telling you to meet Will and Hannibal’s office.

As evening rolled around, you finally left your room, making your way into the living room where Sam was sat on the couch.

“Some dude came looking for your earlier, told him you weren’t home.”

“Will?”

“Jack Crawford. Wanted to talk to you about the accident.”

You hummed a little, grabbing your jacket.

“Going out.”

Sam pushed himself up, grabbing his own jacket as he trailed after you, hands stuffed in his pockets as he followed you out to the street where you melted into the people walking by.

“You don’t have to follow me.”

Sam didn’t say anything, and you glanced back at him before going back to walking about.

“Seriously? You called Kyle?”

“Not letting you walk around undefended in this state of mind.”

“I have to agree with hardass here.” Kyle said.

You sighed a little, crossing boundaries into the ward that had been overrun by ghouls.

It was mostly abandoned by people now, and as you emerged on the otherside of the alleyway you pulled on your skull mask, pulling on your gloves.

A few ghouls stopped to glance at you but didn’t do anything, and you carried on walking to the old fountain, and you sat down.

“Don’t often see you around these parts.” Someone spoke.

You flicked your gaze up to the hooded figure, and you shrugged a little bit.

“Have you found anything?”

“Nothing new, got some inside intel about the doves wanting to do a takedown of this ward, but they can’t organise a task force big enough. They’re spreading into the fourth and fifth wards though.”

You nodded your head.

“Keep away from them, don’t interact unless you have too. Got it?”

“That’s no fun.”

You stood up, turning to face him.

“Listen to me, do. Not. Interact. Got it?” You said lowly.

He grumbled a little bit but nodded his head, agreeing with you.

“Whatever you say Grimm, I’ll pass the message along.”

“Good, if I heard about anyone fucking with the doves on purpose I’ll personally deal with them.”

“I expect nothing else.”

You carried on wondering around for a little while until you finally left the ward, hiding your mask in your jacket again as you made your way back into normal public.

Kyle and Sam were still close behind you, and you turned to Kyle.

“Can you ask Anna to keep an ear to the ground?”

“Yeah, will do.”

He wondered away, and Sam stepped in line with you.

Neither of you said anything, but when you went to walk back home he grabbed the back of your jacket, directing you down a different path instead.

“What the hell?”

“Get your ass into that damn therapists office, I can’t be having them coming by every day.”

He pushed you into the building and you sighed, walking to the office you had been avoiding and knocked on the door.

After hearing Hannibal call for you to come in, you pushed the door open, walking in with Sam behind you, and he stuffed his hands into his pockets, leaning against the wall.

“I see you brought a friend.” Hannibal said.

“I see you brought two.”

“We just want to talk, that’s all.” Jack said gently.

You turned around to look at Sam, and he left the room, leaving the four of you alone and you walked over, sitting down in the chair Hannibal offered you.

“What is there to talk about?”

“Your spiralling path into self destruction.” Jack sighed

[f0point5]

intro throughts

Logan being a little pookie, a bit like cute hamster, but he got BUFFED over winter break, wouldn't recognize him if compared to his first race last year

Kevin looking normal, would appreciate maybe a little bit from distance, having his face that close was almost uncomfortable, not bad though

Zhou looking good, I love his hair

appreciate Daniel just smirking, not actual wide smile that close to the camera, love his beard, gives "your daughter calls me daddy" vibe

Nico challenging his pose for future political career

Valterri and his mullet plus his highlighter green suit, not great not terrible, looks better with the bleached hair (at least in my opinion)

Yuki looking like a robot, sorry our Japanese sweetheart they did you dirty

Alex and his natural hair, appreciate it, plus loving the white suit

not gonna lie, that shot of Ocon did things to me that I'm not so sure about

Pierre looking like he wants to kill you (knowing how tall he is, it's how he would have to look up to me as well, makes it quite funny), great shot of his eyes

Lance... where did that hair come from man?!

Oscar, oh my adored Mr Koala. not a bad word about you (insert Kris Jenner's "you're doing great sweetie") - his eyes his neck his hair, consider me dead thank you

George's eyes look so huge there, for some reason he reminds me of The Boss Baby 😂 good thing he didn't do anything stupid or cringe-y this time

can we talk about how proportionally perfect Carlos is? also those eyes see to your very SOUL you perverts!

they did Lando dirty, kinda sad that they did him from afar

Charles being Charles. no other words needed

NANDOOOO! Grandpa of the grid looking amazing, whoever decided to use this shot deserves a raise

Lewis looking like he's preparing for a boxing match, but in a weirdly hot way

not sure about Checo, he stands there kinda like a 🧍🏻‍♂️, love his eyes though

and Max. oh mister please have a mercy with my poor heart, that little smirk and those eyes will keep me awake at night!

that's it, I'm done 😂

Logan did indeed bulk up. I keep seeing videos of him in the paddock and I’m like damn son you had a lot of steak over Christmas.

Don’t talk to me about Ocon. I’m going through something with him at the minute and I’m deeply ashamed.

Oscar is really having a moment. I hope it lasts all year.

They need to stop doing close ups of Daniel.

I liked Lando’s actually. He is a short king but he’s a cutie, and Orange is his colour.

Fernando has definitely had Botox or a chemical peel and he is looking incredible. INCREDIBLE.

Lewis looking kinda hot ngl he isn’t a bit of me but that promo really was.

The Ferrari boys and just models. You can’t even judge them against the rest of the grid they’re just beautiful. The way this team has the two best looking drivers and Red is their colour…I’m going to miss Carlos next year.

Max. That smirk is going to haunt me. In there very best way.

[starillusion13]

My Muse

Pairing: Hongjoong x f!reader

Genre: Friends to lovers, fluff, College Au

Warnings: orphan (nothing else).

W.C: 3k

Note: Thanks to the people loving my works and supporting them. I love to read your reviews in my dms so feel free to dm me. Thanks for joining the event.

Network: @cultofdionysusnet @k-vanity

Request from @lunehong

Taglist: @mymoodwriting @justhere4kpop @vvshere

💟

*under the cut*

The university classes are meant to be fun and boring consecutively.  Well, how you are experiencing them is depending on the memories you are building for you to remember. The morning classes are always being cursed by you and your friends because of your lazy asses not wanting to leave the bed. The afternoon classes are always tiring to you as you keep telling your friends every five seconds that how hungry you are and might die of this pathetic hunger. The over-dramatic self of yours.

Aside from all these usual aspects of life. There is something else tingling in your life or maybe a someone. University campus is really a vast area with different faces, some you remember and some you don’t. There is one face which always catch your eye is the campus heartthrob, KIM HONGJOONG.

He is the topper of your university and also well known for his charming and intelligence in many other fields like his designs are showcased in fashion department, he has his own composing team for the art and music department and so on. He is the icon for an all-rounder student of this national university. Apparently for being so talented, he is known as the perfect walking man who has come out of every girl’s dream. A perfect man with a pointy nose, flawless attractive features with black brown mullets walks around the campus just like every girl’s dream man has come to reality. Well, you also belong to these girls but maybe a bit more than them.

He is your best-friend.

“Hey! Y/N.” Your cause of suffering has finally arrived while you were just trying to pass through the crowds for next class and avoiding every chance to meet him.

You halted in your path to turn around and face him. You give your brightest smile to him just to get an excited and bright look from him. Those smiling eyes and that smile is the reason for your suffering. He is your best friend since high school and you both were inseparable since then even some people have claimed sometimes you to be a couple which you both waved off by laughing loudly at them or showing them your true friendship and annoying friends both of you can be when together.

This was all fine until the incident happened in the mall last year. You were supposed to go on a date with your boyfriend that day but later that evening you found out the ugliest truth about him cheating on you so you called your first go-to escape, your best-friend Hongjoong to cry your heart out. He without wasting any second time, arrived to your house when he stayed with you whole night just to comfort you and hear about your rantings on everything possible. Next day, he insulted your ex and exposed him in front of the whole campus and that’s when your perspective towards him changed. The friendship between you both started to have some tension of falling it apart. Well, this is only from your side because he still sees you as his best partner for every situation to go through and a perfect best friend.

“Hi, Joong. What are you doing here in this sector of the building now? You probably have the music production meeting with the professors.”

“Ah yes, I still have and will go after meeting you. I came here to ask you whether you are free today after classes or not.”

Hongjoong asking you whether you are free after classes? Oh! He is your best friend so you should not think so afar. It’s just regarding your upcoming exams. Right? He just wants to take all the due notes on the classes he had missed.

“I don’t think anything important is there rather than going home to eat and take a nap.” You both laughed at your reply.

Hongjoong seems to scan his surrounding as if to catch any intruder who is trying to interfere in your little moments. He turned his attention back to you.

“So do you want to hang out with me later in the nearby market or to any place you like. We don’t get much time for us and it’s been so long we have shared our life updates with each other. I miss you.” He tried to give you his puppy eyes and pouty look which you found so cringey that you hit his arm laughing. Other girls would have got heart attacks if he ever done this to them.

“Stop it joong. This does not suite you. You are the dreamy boy of every girl in this campus so you need to maintain your high profile and an attractive image.”

No Joong, please don’t change. I always want you the way you have ever treated me, the way you have only showed me your particular phases that no one has ever seen and will get to see. You can call me selfish but I want all these just for myself and to let you know that Joong I am different from every girl. I am your girl. Maybe just as a best friend at least.

Hongjoong stared at you with an amused glint in his eyes as if he is seeing a comedic scene unfolding in front of him. He always finds your ramblings cute and especially when you are a bit annoyed with something and complaining.

“So, are you not one of those girls as well?” His question caught you off guard for a second but then you played it cool. He is smirking in the wait of your reply.

“Of course not.”

“Why? Don’t you find me cool like they see me?”

“No. You are just my annoying friend who always teases me whenever a boy tries to approach me and then you scare the shit out of that boy.” You looked up a little because of the height proximity to show your glare at him.

He again laughed on your act. “They are not good for you.” His expression suddenly shifted from goofy to dark. His jaw look so tensed and bright eyes are now dark.

“Yeah sure as if you are good for me.” You whispered it so that he cant hear you. You just smiled tightly at him “Thanks for caring but I have to go now and I will then see you in the evening.” You waved at him and with quick steps you went to your class.

“You really can’t see it Y/N right?” Hongjoong chuckled sadly and looked up at the sky.

A blue bird was searching for a shelter moreover a home to protect herself from the upcoming storm.

“Everyone has a home to shelter themselves but I have a shelter but not a home.” He left the scene with a single tear rolling down his eyes.

“Hey Joong, so are we going now?” You are so excited to finally spend some time with your best friend after so long.

“Yes, we are going to your favourite park. Remember the one where we first met? I have got some snacks with me so that we won’t be feeling hungry.”

 “Omo how thoughtful you are.” You faked gasped and put your hands on your chest just above your heart. You can feel how fast your heartbeat is even when you are trying to act normal as best friends in front of him.

“So, lets sit by the side of fence, the view will be nice during the sunset and you can click pictures of it to save it for later.” Spring sunsets are always so beautiful and you both like it so much that no matter wherever you are, both of you take your time to cherish it.

Settling down by the side of the fence, both of you are sitting on a outdoor mat with your belongings kept aside and you facing towards the river to take in the beautiful view of the park as its your favorite meanwhile Hongjoong had a quick call with a professor.

“I miss spending time with you here. I still remember how we both met here when one evening your mother was late to pick you up and you were sitting on the bench with a scared face.” You averted your gaze towards the more beautiful view, towards Hongjoong. The boy is smiling at you with his sparky eyes and how bad you want to hug him right now. He is looking perfect under the warm essence of dusk and in the surrounding of spring season.

“Me too….” You replied still mesmerized by his presence beautifully so close to you.

“What happened? Are you thinking something? Are you hungry?” Hongjoong asked you in a very concerned way in which you simply smiled his way.

“It’s okay Joong, I’m okay.”

“Y/N?” his professional deep voice which he only uses when to confront with your exes or meeting anytime for the first time. He never uses that voice to you but maybe you were wrong.

“Hm?”

“You are bothered by something and I can clearly see the effect on your face.” On his remark , you cupped your face with both of your hands and close your eyes tightly to face him with an excuse other than explaining how you feel different meeting him alone now when you see him more than just best friends.

“No Joong, you are just overthinking. It’s nothing like that.”

“Come here.” He is now sitting facing the river with legs resting straight and leaning his upper body on his two arms on both the sides. His face with no expression asking to move towards him. You are sitting with your legs crossed with a towel spread on your legs and eating your favorite snack.

You didn’t understand why is he calling you towards him so you waited for him to say anything further. He extended one of his arms towards you which you gladly accepted with your own. Suddenly he pulled you towards him and make you sit on his thighs. You attempted to complain for his actions because he always does something like this out of his childish acts with you but you find it difficult for you to control your feelings for him in this situation.

You mentally scolded yourself to feel his actions like differently but this was all normal for both of you since childhood. Your questioning look asking him to speak why is he pulling you like this and waiting for him to clarify your thoughts.

“Now tell me Y/N, what is bothering you?”

‘You Hongjoong! What do you think? You are thinking you are helping me in this situation? You are making it more difficult for me.’

You pushed him and run towards the fence and hold them tightly to calm your heart with your eyes closed. It was always so nice meeting him before and spending time with him and ranting about each other’s life but the conditions are no more similar.

You felt someone hugging you from behind and resting his chin on your right shoulder when suddenly he spoke breathily.

“Why are you so easy to read Y/N?” His smiling lips hovering near your neck, this feels make you feel so safe in his embrace.

“What are you saying?” you nearly whispered but still audible for him to hear clearly for so close proximity.

He made you face him by turning your body. Your body resting on the waist level fences and his leaning forward when he put his arms on top of your hands on both of your sides holding the fence.

You looked up into his eyes to understand what does he mean by reading you easily.

“Why don’t you say it directly to me? How long do I need to wait for it?”

“Huh?”

“Why are you pretending not to understand?”

“I- “

“Do you like me?” His expression explains everything that he is not joking at all even he wants a valid reply from you that moment.

“I don’t know…….” You are avoiding his gaze when deep down you know how much you are lying in the moment when you want to hug him tightly and scream how you don’t want to lose him to someone else and make him yours.

“If you can’t say it then let me tell you Y/N, I like you. No wait I love you.” His right hand lifted up to your face to cup the side of your face.

He continues, “You are the reason for my life. I asked you out today not just because I haven’t met you for so long but to finally let out my feelings to you. I don’t know when I started having these feelings for you but I am happy that they are not atleast late.”

“Hongjoong, I have to-“

“Let me say mine first then I will let you to say all your parts.” Maybe he is your bestfriend but he always has this demanding aura whenever he is serious.

“I don’t like when you tell me that boys are trying to hit on you and whenever anyone approaches you with a proposal. I don’t want you to be someone else’s girl. You are my girl. You are my muse. All these designs and songs you see around and the recognition I got from them are inspired from you. It’s all because of you. I never had anyone to call mine as I have been raised in an orphanage till middle school and the family adopted was always too busy to spend time with me and that’s why I always play alone in that park when one day I met you.”

“Don’t you feel afraid of heartbreak if I reject your feelings for me?” You confidently ask him.

“No.”

“No?”

“I know your reply and I wanted you to feel the same for me and that’s why I waited so long just to realize that our feelings are mutual.” He is smiling at you happily which is hurting you more as you still haven’t said about your feelings for him.

“How?”

“Your act of ignoring me when am around. You avoiding eye contact whenever you are telling something private convos. Your jealousy visible on your face and in your actions when girls literally drool over me. Its so simple to read you and trust me I loved it. I enjoyed your possessiveness over me and I want that to feel when we are together not as bestfriends but as lovers.”

“I know….. I have to say you that I like you more you know. You don’t know how much it hurt to see with your classmate roaming around the building and people gossiping you both as a perfect couple when here am left back with feelings for you which I cant even tell you.”

“We are just working on same project you know nothing more.”

“Yes I know but people make up so much stories at some point they hurt you know. I tried to convince myself that I should not feel like that for my bestfriend but I failed miserably each time and fell for you harder.”

Hongjoong hugged you and caressed your back of the head. “Thanks for not giving up on your feelings and that’s why I got the chance to express myself to you.”

“I like you Hongjoong.”

“Oh that’s it?”

“Huh?”

“I love you because you are the poetry to my arts, you are the muse of my life to inspire me to proceed with life in a right way and always being my home but….”

“But?”

“You just like me?.....” He mimicked a sad hurtful expression and you realized what he is referring to.

“Joong! You are playing with me again. Okay listen I love you. Happy?”

“No.”

“Now what?”

“Kiss me.”

“…..Joong”

He gives you a small peck on the lips. “I have to seal the bond when I got the opportunity.”

You hit him on the chest and went towards your belongings on the ground to pack them for you and him. He watches you intently standing there.

“Wont you help me?” you asked him.

“With what?” An amused glint in his eyes and a mischievous smile dancing on his lips.

“Hongjoong!”

"Y/N!"

He laughed and proceeded to wrap up everything.

“Y/N? What are we now?” You both have your backpacks on and standing facing each other.

“Bestfriends?”

“But bestfriends don’t kiss.” You become shy when you realised few minutes back Hongjoong kissed you. He comes closer to you and pecks your lips again and then kissing your forehead, he holds you gaze when his hands cupped your face.

“um I am your muse so you are my artist then are we contracted partners?” You joked a bit to calm down your heartbeat. He laughed along with you because the way you were embarrassed with your own joke.

“You are my girl and I’m yours.”

“Mine.” You smiled at him heartily because finally you know you don’t have to lose him to someone else and now, he is completely yours.

Your bestfriend and also your man. Oh maybe your artist, come on you are his muse.

You hugged him tightly which he happily returned you with keeping you in his embrace. Under the thousands of blinking stars in the night sky, there is a beginning of a new love story.

[starsofang]

You and your cliffhangers. I cant. I feel like it’s an adrenaline rush for you to just hate us and see us scream over them. This is why hatred it developing angie😒😒😒😁

OKAY, FIRST HELLO. I know i’ve said it like three times now, but I’m glad you’re safe from the storm. Florida is getting one after the other so just incase another comes, stay safe😭 You putting out a chapter as soon as you got back was completely unexpected and I blame my phone for not getting me a notification.

No Ghost this chapter :( I feel like if he knew what Dove was seeing he’d be beyond angry. At himself, at Graves. I can even see him being a bit annoyed at the others. Maybe for bringing her onto the ship? I dont know😭 My notes doc is getting longer and longer as the days pass on.

Gaz!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! MY BABY😭🙏😭🙏 I feel so bad and I’m blaming you for it. HOW DARE YOY LEAVE HIM HANGING. IM LITERALLY NEVER FORGIVING YOU. He just wants to know what the fuck is happening between them and dove is just: :/ and she’s beyond confused about everything. Unreliable narrator #1

I still, of course, love your characterization of Soap. I think I’ve said it before, probably the first few chapters. He’s beyondddd smart if a little dense. “I’m glad Ghost has some like you.” and his face is just like: 😄🤨😄 So. Smart might be too nice of a word.

And of course, how could I forget John fucking Price. It’s the daddy issues probably but he’s just so jejehsoskdiosbeid. “What the fuck is she doing.” Imagining him growling that out in concern and anger is doing things to me. But I have to agree with the other ask! I dont know who said it but I loveeeeeeeeeee your dialogue. It can be really hard to convey emotions through writing but somehow you’re able to do it.

Also, John saying he’d prefer if she stayed with him… I see you. He can’t hide from me.

Other ask had the dresses right. Like almost exactly how I pictured it but this one is also right. I think it’s be a bit more grey to be honest, and the sleeves might be longer. But it’s like a classy but modest dress.

I feel like they’d go feral. They ARE pirates to be fair, and pirates definitely aren’t known to not be brutes. Though, they might have a bit more decorum. Barely. But still..

ANY WAYS this was a very long ask and to keep myself from annoying you and being demoted from your favorite reader (don’t you dare tell me i’m wrong) i’m going to end this here :) As always, I love you and you’re writing. MWAH 😙

u don’t hate me, i know you’d miss me if i was still gone from the hurricane 🥱

ghost will be in it next, it was hard to fit him in bc hes going thru it rn 😔 now that graves bitch ass is back ghost will definitely be more present and oooo i can’t wait to see it

im #1 gaz lover but making him suffer a little bit rn is giving me adrenaline and i cant stop doing it, its lowkey like a drug and im getting my fix. he wants to kiss us sooooo bad haha smash.

soap can do no wrong i fear, he’s kind of like my dog in this fic or like a pet bc hes just kind of there being silly while also having his moments of redemption and idk i just love him so much i cant help it. also add me imagining him in wet clothes and a wet mullet in that one scene near the end and I was suddenly the dog

john can also do no wrong idc how many haters he has, i will die on that hill. how can u see his banter and his way of teasing and not think he’s fine. r u serious. ALSO THE GROWL MY GOOOOD I WAS TWEAKING WHEN I WROTE IT CUZ ITS ALL I COULD SEE IN MY HEAD AND I GENUINELY STARTING TO TWITCH

that dress is a yes 😫 i’m not up in here imagining glamor, hello this is 1800s pirates and lowkey we’re a lil dirty and stinky, IN MY MIND I WANT MODEST BORING DRESSES BC READER IS NOT A MODEL she’s literally a prisoner (ex ig) on a ship and things get nasty, plus the practicality??? on a ship??? I AGREE but like i said im a black dress girly thru and thru because thats all i wear

I LOVE YOU MWAH

[xflippinfrogx]

Tickletober Day 5~ “I’m not ticklish”

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~ FANDOM: Voltron

LEE: Keith

LER: Lance ~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~ 💙WARNING~ THIS IS A SFW TICKLE FIC, NSFW DNI!!💙

“LAHAHAHANCE STAHAHAP IHIHIT!!!!” Pidge squealed, batting at her attackers hands. Lance was in a very playful mood today and he was on a mission to make all of his friends smile. They’d been up in space for a good few months at this point and we’re all much closer with one another than when they started. The biggest relationship development onboard the ship was between him and Keith, their resident emo as Lance like to call him. It was still new to them both but there was something between them that they couldn’t ignore but neither had mentioned it just yet. Of course days like these definitely pushed them a bit further in their closeness.. as you’ll see.

Soon enough Pidge got a good kick to Lance’s stomach and escaped the clutches of the teams newly established tickle monster. He had already gotten Hunk this morning and Coran very briefly that afternoon but he decided he wasn’t even going to try Allura because she might eject him off the ship. Shiro was busy working on something so he’d leave him be as well.

Only person left was Keith and lucky for Lance he had just entered the room. Lance wondered if he had witnessed his attack on poor Pidge. “Damn she’s got some kick in her for someone so short huh?” Keith commented lightly chuckling to himself. “Or maybe you’re just extremely weak?” He was smirking as he spoke and Lance took this as his opportunity to see if perhaps his cru- friend was ticklish aswell. “You better reign in the attitude Mullet or you’ll be next~” A sly smile made its way to his face as he teased Keith. “Well sucks for you because I’m not ticklish.” He said it so confidently that Lance almost believed him, but he knew Keith too well now to miss the signs of slight panic in his eyes. “Hmm I think you’re lying Keith.” He leaned forward from his chair towards Keith who had sat in front of him on the ground for some reason??

“I promise you I’m definitely not!!” He was getting defensive and Lance could tell. He was going to have some fun with this..

“Alright, well if you’re ‘not ticklish’ then I guess you won’t mind if I do this?” He had moved from the chair to reach his new target. He experimented by prodding Keiths sides, but he kept a straight face. Lance walked his fingers up his ribs and began pinching lightly and Keith looked as if he was close to breaking but the boy was stubborn. It was going to take a little more than this to get him laughing Lance thought.

He didn’t have to search too far because Keith made the dumb decision of practically marking out his worst spot. His arms had automatically hugged around his stomach protecting it from Lance.

“Okay Keith last chance to admit that you’re actually ticklish or else I’m gonna have to do this the hard way..” Lance was really enjoying this, whilst he spoke he grabbed both of his FRIENDS hands and pinned them either side of his head. “Lance really, this is dumb, I mean c’mon i haven’t laughed yet so you’re obviously wasting your time here.” Keith seemed.. nervous as he spoke. ”Well there goes your last chance pretty boy, remember you asked for this.” Lance internally cringed at the nickname but soon forgot about it as he was too preoccupied trying to make Keith laugh. He started by scribbling his fingers over the taught muscles of Keith’s midsection and he could now see him visibly struggling to hold in his laughter. It wasn’t until Lance reached his lower stomach that Keith finally cracked. “Aha I found it!!” Lance cried out with excitement. “LAHAHANCE NOHOHO THIHIHIS ISNT FAHAHAIR!!!” Keith began to twist and buck his torso in attempt to get away from Lance’s very tickly fingers. That was a big mistake because not only was he no further away from his attacker but his stupid shirt had ridden up exposing him even more.

Lance didn’t waste a second and absolutely took advantage of the vulnerable area. He spidered his fingers all along Keith’s waistline relishing in his loud cackles. It was nice to see the usually brooding teen so carefree for once and god his laugh was just amazing. Lance could listen to it forever, but he didn’t put Keith through more than maybe seven minutes of torture. “Not ticklish you said?? Well I think I proved that wrong don’t you Keith?” Lance smiled down at him noticing how content he looked. Lance would give anything to stay in this moment all day. A tiny blush spread across Keith’s cheeks as he smiled shyly up at Lance. His arms were still pinned but neither of them seemed to notice. Then Keith did something he never thought he would..

He leaned up and slowly placed his lips against Lance’s. He quickly pulled away for fear of rejection but Lance immediately let go of his arms and pulled him back into their first kiss. It didn’t last long but to them it was the most perfect kiss either had ever had. Lance smirked his signature smile and spoke up. “Who knew you lying about being ticklish would’ve made this happen..”

“Oh shut up you dork.” Keith chuckled and wrapped his arms around Lance. That’s how Hunk walked in on the two cuddled up on the ground asleep an hour later. He couldn’t have been happier for them.. and himself because Pidge owes him ten bucks.

[weird-an]

The sun has painted more freckles on Billy's face and turned his skin golden. He waves at Steve when he comes back with their fries and drinks, still splashing in the water. Hawkins seems so far away, a gray memory. Fighting monsters a fever dream during a heat stroke.

Billy swimming in the ocean is a sight. He belongs here. Steve never wants to miss it again. He quickly grabs the polaroid camera Robin got him.

The picture is a bit blurry, Steve isn't the best photographer. But he can still see Billy's mullet against the dark blue sea and that's what matters.

"I'm starving," Billy yells when he comes out of the water. "What took you so long?"

The water drops are shimmering on his skin when he returns to Steve. He sprawls himself out on the towel next to him, limbs long and lazy, like a giant cat. His scars have faded into silver lines, crashing together just underneath his sternum. The skin is numb there, Billy tells him, but Steve still kisses his scars every day.

"The line was endless," Steve says, handing him his fries and the chocolate bar Billy tears open and devours immediately.

"I don't want it to melt," he tells Steve, like he hasn't the biggest sweet tooth Steve has ever seen.

"Sure," Steve says, munching his fries. He has a second chocolate bar in his bag, he'll give to him later.

A sea gull steals one of Billy's fries.

"You fucker!" Billy yells after it, flipping it off. Steve snaps another polaroid, shaking with laughter. Surprisingly, this photo is better.

Billy still has a fry dangling from his lip like a cigarette and already begins to steal Steve's food. Steve wouldn't want to have it any other way.

He's going to make a photo album. "California, summer of '86". It's fucking cheesy, but he wants to keep these moments forever. Billy will probably pretend not to care about the album, but put glitter on the pages and draw tiny dicks in neon colors on it.

Maybe they should move here.