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remsmoonlight · 3 years ago

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— title : a sweet truth

— word count : 2.1k words

— pairing : john wich x reader

— summary : you get an overwhelming need to share with John how you feel, unable to keep it to yourself anymore, leaving only the good to follow.

— warnings : none, issa soft one

note: my first one shot back and it’s john of course! anyways i need to binge the movies again because this man’s voice was difficult to master this time around, now i will be getting to requests now i have indulged myself oops

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* requests are open ! *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The dull crackle that runs mindlessly beneath the audio of the radio is the only sound that can be heard illuminating the space of the bedroom where you and John lay contently together. He’d offered to repair the object, or even buy another but you refused stubbornly — remarking that it gives it a certain endearing charm. You had joked that it reminds you of him. In the sense that while it has a flaw, it was able to bring joy and amusement to a person’s life. It’s humbling to know that even the John Wick was human, that he had his flaws despite being difficult to witness them in the flesh.

It took a lot for John to bare the darkest and most damaged parts of his conscience. He couldn’t go another day where his mind leapt endlessly to conclusions, his mind conjuring haunting images of your departing body that would eventually come to pass — to him, it was inevitable. He fully convinced himself he was hallucinating when you had not retreated in fear, with the look of disgust cosying up to your reflection, but the opposite. He is still a man greatly feared by a whole world beneath yours, yet you still gaze upon him with nothing but warmth.

You will your mind to focus on the words from the small object, yet it’s the heat that is emitting from his body in waves that prevent you from fully taking in what is being said, its presence doing more to provide white noise than entertainment. The minor glint in your gaze turns upwards to drag your sight across the body that half lays on top of you.

Like vines, to be found in a twist of limbs that would be almost difficult to distinguish what belongs to who is a common occurrence, the sense of shielded from the scorching realities that the world bares boldly is an addicting concoction that you can only find with him. Your heart swells tenfold at the mere thought of him and being here in such a simple way that holds so much affection just for two people.

�� What ? “

The suddenness of his voice lifts you from your thoughts that run their own race, a shy lift of your lips can be seen twirling gracefully in response.

“ Nothing, I’m just thinking. “

“ Thinking? “ he asks you, a light hint of laughter gently coating the question with a feather-like touch. “ Are you trying to scare me? “

Eyes widen in response to what he says, a heavy burst of air plummeting to the soft mattress below the two of you. “ Don’t be so rude! “ A short chuckle trails behind your reply, secretly loving the cheeky side of his personality coming out to peek out.

You’ve realised that he has a warmth whenever you’re together, but even still he maintains an air of such seriousness you’re surprised he has not collapsed under the pressure of holding such a wall up with his bare hands, these moments are the kind that you paint mentally — a still of this moment in a thousand shades of gold. Upon your first meeting of his, you’d never associate that with him, with how intimidating and stone faced he was, it would be a honeyed lie if someone would have described him in such a way but here he is. Not a honeyed lie but a sweet tasting truth that you never want to be without again.

“ I’m sorry. “ he apologises as the amusement in his tones still very much present that would aim to refer to him as a hypocrite, but it’s not spoken with vitriol, his words directed towards you rarely contain any harshness. “ Tell me, I’m curious. “

It’s a minor debate that dances with only itself, zig zagging with a biro pen that creates a mess of lines converging at multiple points to create a tangle plot point that should not be as complicated as it’s being made out. Neither of you have muttered the L word, not even under your breath in passing and the one dominating emotion you can feel overwhelming your body entirely is incredibly close to it.. but is it too soon? Even as a description? It’s a fear you can feel tickling your neck from behind, whispering stained words of discouragement, but if you have learnt anything, it’s that hiding your feelings will be worse off in the long run. Never can a human being strive for the euphoria of authentic happiness clutched in their fist when they lock away their thoughts and their desires in a box to gather age and dust — leaving behind a hollow shell of what could have been had it the opportunity to bud and grow.

“ Well.. “ you begin, your sight lowering to meet the sight of his neck, unable to look him in the eyes fully and you approach the topic. “ I was thinking about you. “

“ Yeah? “

“ I’m just.. happy. More than I thought I could be and it’s you I have to thank. “ Your shoulders shrug as best they can from your position laying down on the bed.

“ I think I should be the one saying that. “ he replies softly, his words ringing truer than they could ever be realised to be as he leans down to leave behind a ghost of a peck behind your ear. It’s an action that is short and sweet.

Never did John imagine himself being rewarded for being the architect in more tragedies and more horrors than he could ever recall. Though, he soon realised your presence was rather the opposite, a ticket to a greener field void of bloodied bargains and death, and should he keep you in his life that would be an opportunity he would not let pass him by in a sea of missed chances left to drown due to his lack of motivation. He gazes upon you fondly in affection, a hand reaching up to draw mindless circles in the back of your hair, memories of his last bargain to leave his previous life playing before him as if an old gritty movie.

“ Stop it, John. I haven’t done a thing! “ your nose wrinkles as you refute what he says with a bashful glint that explodes in your gaze. After all the time you’d spent together and you still refuse to see yourself in the way John has painted you in —

“ You’ve done more for me than you realise. “

It feels like yesterday you shared your first kiss, fondly remembering how you’d mentally remarked that it’s so unfair that what is between you should be so perfect, a cruel joke were it not to work out. Though your heart is full of gratitude when you still tell yourself that not a worry should be had, your need for a physical reminder as you move your hand to his clothed back — bringing him closer as if to burn a permanent reminder into your fingertips.

“ I guess that’s why we compliment each other so well, huh? “

A wispy sigh plummets, your thoughts and emotions mixing more and more into a blend of intensity as you fully realise just how much you have fallen and adore the man who shares your bed. It has been such a long time you have had these emotions to this degree rouse from, what has felt like, an endless slumber. Yes, there had been a few who had caught your eye, but compared to the substance that has been created and nurtured from you both, they had nothing more than a water drop in a boundless and enduring sea. It’s a hope of yours that you don’t look foolish before him, getting so emotional over something like this, you scold yourself mentally — trying to pull yourself together before you completely crumble.

“ What’s wrong? “

“ It’s nothing, really. “ you shake your head, accompanying the almost denial. You want to let everything in your heart free, but the question is how to without scaring him off. There’s not much that can scare him, but you’d rather not throw a spanner in the flawless equation.

“ You don’t have to tell me, but it might help if you do. “ John lends a soothing weight in your hand as he interlocks your fingers together, leaving the choice completely up to you, refusing to force you to share something that is so personal to you. “ it’s your call. “

“ It’s nothing crazy.. “

The side of John’s brain that has been hardwired to jump to every scenario imaginable — good and bad, is running rampant. Itching to be prepared so nothing is able to disrupt the perfect day dream of a life that had only been made available through television shows and movies, now that he has it, every day he promises to never let it be ruined. Nothing good can ever occur from ripping away the first drop of water that touches a person starved of it for days, only a troublesome path of anger can walk that path on its twisted and turned limbs.

“ I think it’s time that I tell you how I feel, “ you state, your lips almost devouring your lips by how hard they bite them, a lost thought of how you have not drawn a drop of blood seeping into irrelevancy. “ how I really feel. “

“ Right? “

For the first time, John is completely unable to get a read of you. The apprehension that is emitting off you in strong waves is not something that comforts him fully, though the fact that you speak not from anger and have opted to stay in your current position as opposed to fleeing is the only source of relief he can continue to draw energy from. Curiosity is the only thing that dominates his mind, wanting desperately to hear the next part of your statement.

In his silence, your brows furrow purely from your own thoughts. Mainly in the wonder of how you can approach this while sounding as if you have capacity and are not obsessed with him as some are with their idols. You know that would be something that would probably scare him off. Your fingertips lay a random beat on the top of his hand, you nestle closer to him as to make yourself comfortable — this does feel like the right time. Should it not? You remind yourself that it is part of a plan that the universe has for you, that it is part of a bigger picture you are not allowed to know until the final moment.

“ I just, “ you pause, blinking as you gather your thoughts and your words further. “ It’s been a long time since I’ve felt anything remotely close to this. “

Your words are like a cozy kiss goodnight before two lovers depart until the next time they see each other, a warmth that slowly grows in his heart overspills at the sentiment you individually wrap with each word you speak. He can’t help but tip his head ever so slightly, to take in every detail on your features — in his mind, nothing is more so perfect than this moment.

“ What I’m trying to say is, and you don’t have to say anything — “ the rambling leaves your lips so effortlessly, as if to savour the last few moments of normally before the inevitable confession. “ I can’t help but realise how much I am in love with you. “

His eyes widen instantaneously as his features follow suit, his lips part in surprise. With how your speech had begun, it should not have come as a surprise, yet to hear it from your lips is as pleasant as the final summer’s day, surrounded by warmth and an impenetrable energy that shields you from any harm that would befall you. He’d lived the life of a haunting ghost story that it soon became a belief that he was a monster, to hear you in this moment recite something so real is something that is difficult for him to wrap his head around. Maybe he isn’t a monster that has made its peace with the darkness, that there is more for him as a person.

The emptiness is soon replaced by a soft weight on your lips, he has leans down to join you — unable to fight the desire to savour the taste of him as you often do when you kiss. It’s a fight you have not yet one, and it’s a fight you imagine you would prefer losing. Time is no longer a concept, you’re too wrapped up in the concept turned reality that is John Wick, only are you able to concentrate on the burning that his free hand leaves as they slide up and down your waist. If this is a dream, neither of you want to awaken.

“ Who says I’m not feeling the same as you? “

#John Wick imagine #John Wick x reader #john wick oneshot #john wick fanfic #john wick fanfiction

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cockatrice-writers-guild · 2 years ago

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LOVESTORY - Chp 5

the garden

warnings: swearing

Initially, I was just grateful Thaddeus had rescued me from that whole mess but as he kept walking and walking, I realized I had no idea where he was actually taking me. I watched with a growing sense of dread as we passed from one unfamiliar hallway to the next. I’d never been to this part of the school before, partially because I didn’t have any classes here and partially because I was a loyal member of the Going Home Club.

Thaddeus finally pushed through a door and suddenly, we were outside. He kept walking and I felt the first seeds of real panic start to blossom. Where was Thaddeus taking me? Was he kidnapping me? Was I going to be the victim of his next prank? WHAT DID HE WANT FROM ME?

At least some of my questions were answered when, instead of taking me to a second location, Thaddeus just walked for a few more seconds and sat down. Oh. I felt kinda bad for thinking he was a murderer now.

I took a look around. We were in some sort of small (by velki standards) garden. A velki sized tree stood at the center of the garden, surrounded by a literal forest of assorted human sized trees and a fence, possibly to discourage velki students from…accidentally…crushing them…. Anyway, there were also some really nice velki flower beds of all colours that I could literally get lost in. A few different sized benches lined the walls but when I looked down, I saw that Thaddeus was sitting in the grass.

Speaking of Thaddeus, I turned to face him, hoping for some kind of explanation.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

Oh no. We were not going to avoid the topic at hand. I pointed at him and cocked my head to the side.

He smiled at me. “I’m fine. It’s you I’m worried about.”

Like HECK he was fine. And he was dodging the question. I pointed at him again and put on a sterner face, hoping it would make me look a bit more intimidating.

Thaddeus sighed, which actually created a gust of wind and effectively reminded me that he was massive and I was SITTING IN HIS HAND. I stamped down the beginnings of a panic attack.

“You really wanna know, huh?”

I nodded.

He looked away. “Look…what Damian said about me was completely true. We really were friends back in first year and through some of the second year. And…I helped him bully other students.”

Oh. Not knowing how to respond to that, I just waited for him to continue.

“The way it happened was…well…I was really lonely back then. I didn’t have any friends. So when Damian offered his friendship, I…took it without really thinking about the consequences. He played nice at first but after a while, he started telling me to do things for him. Little things at first. I thought nothing of it. We were friends after all. But gradually, it got worse. Eventually, I realized I was helping him bully people. I confronted him about this and he basically told me that if I didn’t do what he said, he’d stop hanging out with me. He said he could always find someone else who wanted to do his work. So, I never said no to anything. I know that doesn’t excuse my actions but…yeah.”

“I started feeling…really shitty all the time. People got hurt because of me.” He must have noticed the look on my face because he clarified. “Emotionally, Sy. Never physically…not that that makes it any better. Anyway, fast forward to a few months later and I eventually got caught running one of Damian’s errands. I was assigned to see a counsellor and it was her who informed me that Damian was a manipulative piece of shit and that I needed to get out of there. It took a lot of work and time but eventually, things started to change.”

“I distanced myself from Damien. Started feeling better about myself. Stopped caring about what other people thought of me. Started dressing the way I wanted to. Decided to take responsibility for my actions. So, after a lot of planning, I pulled off my first prank. I hijacked an award ceremony and basically made a fool of myself in front of the entire student body. I won’t go into details but it involved confetti, a PowerPoint presentation and me literally begging all my victims for forgiveness. I got my first detention and realized I liked pranking people and…also dresses. I apologized to them more formally afterwards, of course but…well, what’s done is done.”

“So, yeah. That’s what happened. I’m sorry for not telling you the truth sooner, Sy. I just-“ he sighed, “I should have been honest with you from the beginning. I…look, I completely understand if you don’t want to hang out anymore. If you want, I can just drop you off at the human entrance and we can…pretend this never h-”

I shook my head frantically. What Thaddeus did in the past was pretty messed up, sure, but…it was in the past. From what I’ve seen, he really was trying to be better. He was nice and caring and noticed me when no one else did. Also, he just saved me from bullies so…forgive me for my bias.

He laughed. “Whatever happens from here on out is completely on you, then.” He looked away. “Also, just for the record, I don’t hang out with you for validation, okay? I hang out with you because I like hanging out with you.”

I nodded and a smile forced its way onto my face. He liked hanging out with me! Why?

“Seriously though. How are you?”

Confused. Ecstatic. Dead inside. Guilt-ridden. Slightly peeved. Whatever the heck that emotion from earlier was. I shrugged.

“Fine, I won’t push you. Though, if you want my advice, you should tell someone. It’s not good to bottle up negative emotions, you know.”

I pointed at him accusingly and he just shrugged. “Counsellor, remember?”

There was a pause, during which something seemed to dawn on Thaddeus.

“You…do have someone you can talk to about this, right?”

As I matter of fact, I did not. Two of the only people I could actually talk to normally, my parents, would flip if I told them I got bullied because I didn’t talk. Of course, there was Jeffery…but I didn’t want him to worry about me. I shook my head.

Thaddeus pursed his lips. “That’s…kinda sad.”

Okay. Out of all the things I had expected Thaddeus to say, that wasn’t one of them and I snorted before I could stop myself. Thaddeus stared at me as if I’d grown wings and it occurred to me that he’d never heard me make any noise before, much less snort. One corner of his mouth went up in a half smile.

“I wish I knew what was going on in that head of yours,” he said wishfully. “You really are something special, you know?”

Really? I didn’t see it. Still, I could feel my face heating up.

He sighed again. “I just wish I'd gotten there sooner. If I didn’t have detention today, who knows what could have happened. And Damian might come for you again now that he knows you’re associated with me. What if I’m not there if he does? I just…wish there was some way you could like…call me when you needed me or something.”

His brows furrowed and his voice got more and more deadpan as he went on. “Like…like with a phone…which presumably we both have. Or since you don’t talk, you could text me. You literally could have just texted me this entire time. I’m a fucking idiot.”

I could have texted him. This whole time. Even in my old school, I wrote down what I wanted to say. I literally just held a conversation with Mrs. Bennett through writing (and a scanner and Mrs. Bennett’s computer) like half an hour ago and as I scanned my sheet of paper over and over to project my side of the conversation onto Mrs. Bennett’s screen so she could see it, it never once occurred to me that I could have texted her. OR EVEN EMAILED HER. WHAT WAS WRONG WITH ME?

Everything shifted as Thaddeus reached for something with his free hand. He brought out a large device that I stared at for a solid 5 seconds before recognizing as a phone. I was on a role today. Besides the colour difference and the…well, you know, it looked more or less like my phone. Same brand too.

“Okay, just give me your number and-.” He stopped suddenly. “I’ll just give you my number,” he said, sheepishly.

He navigated through his phone with one hand and then turned the screen to me. I was blinded for several seconds as my eyes tried to adjust to the light. It was like being in the cinema if they decided to just tape the giant screen to your face. I took down the number and added it to my contacts before nodding at him. He nodded back. “Now just text me and I’ll have your number.”

I opened my messenger app and stared at the screen. These would be my first words to Thaddeus. Ever. Everything would change after I sent this. It would be a monumental moment. I would finally be able to talk to Thaddeus. I just needed to text him so he could get my number. I poised my fingers over the keyboard and…stopped. Unfortunately, when I tried to think of something to say, my mind went blank. Why could I say? What should I say? After everything he did for me and all the things he said before, there were too many things I wanted to say. I could tell him what was on my mind or thank him or finally tell him what my favourite show was or talk about the weather. THERE WERE TOO MANY OPTIONS. WHAT SHOULD I SAY?

The time on my phone changed. …I WAS TAKING TOO LONG. Thaddeus was still waiting. Panicking, I typed out one word and hit send before I could lose the nerve. I instantly regretted it. Thaddeus’ phone buzzed and he opened his messenger app.

Unknown Number: Hi

Welp. Back to being friendless.

Thaddeus looked from the phone screen to me then back to the phone screen, a smile growing on his face. Finally, his eyes settled on me, sparkling.

“Hi,” he whispered back, almost giddily.

My heart fluttered and I couldn’t keep the smile off my face. He responded! To something I said! The FBI agent who read my texts was going to think I was weird if Thaddeus kept responding to them verbally but who cares? Not me!

We stayed like this for a while, sitting in an abandoned school garden and grinning at each other like idiots until Thaddeus finally broke the spell, tearing his gaze from me and looking up at the sky.

“It’s getting late,” he said, before turning back to me. “Is someone coming to pick you up?”

I shook my head.

“I’ll take you home then.”

He started to stand but paused and sat back down before bringing me up to his face again.

“I…don’t know where you live,” he said, embarrassed. “Could you text me your address?”

I thought about the implications of this. I wasn’t sure how I felt about Thaddeus knowing where I lived. Sure, he was nice and caring and all that other stuff but he was also the velki equivalent of a trickster fae and giving him the location of my house was probably not the best idea.

Thaddeus seemed to pick up on my hesitation. “Hey, cut me some slack! I’m not going TP your house or anything like that!” I noticed he looked slightly to the left as he said this. And his mouth was turning up at the corners just slightly. And I couldn’t see his free hand at the moment, so I couldn’t tell if he was crossing his fingers behind his back or not.

I gave him a skeptical look.

He fake pouted. “After everything we’ve been through, you still don’t trust me? Unbelievable. My best (only) friend doesn’t trust me. I’m hurt. How about this, then.” He placed his free hand over his heart. “I, Thaddeus Kayne, swear to never go to your house without telling you first.”

I thought about it. I was a little wary since he made that condition himself but I couldn’t think of any loopholes. After a moment of hesitation, I took out my phone and texted him my address.

He looked at his phone before turning to me. “You won’t regret this!” he said in a way that instantly made me regret it.

I pursed my lips and he grinned at me. “You know I’d never hurt you, right?”

I had my doubts.

“Remember last week? When everyone’s writing supplies disappeared? Except yours?”

I did remember. There was a practice quiz that day and since that class took place after lunch, everyone just left their bags in the classroom. About 10 minutes into lunch, Thaddeus said he had to take care of something and left early. I immediately knew what was up but just went with it. Later, when the teacher (Ms. Larson, human) told us to take out our writing materials, I was about to reach into my bag to take out my pencil case when some kid yelled that her pens were gone. More and more students chimed in, saying theirs were gone too. I checked my bag and my stuff was still there. I decided not to take out my stationary and instead looked at Thaddeus, who was calmly doing his test and also trying his level best to keep a straight face as the chaos unfolded. After about 10 minutes of panic, he finally caved in and revealed where the stationary was (in his locker). He was sent to the principal’s office and bowed theatrically at the door before he left. The tests were ungraded but Ms. Larson gave him an F out of spite.

“Did you ever wonder why?”

As a matter of fact, I did. And I’d concluded that Thaddeus had just forgotten about me or something. I was a little bummed out about it but being overlooked was honestly pretty normal for me. I nodded.

“It’s…well…look, this is going to sound dumb but…the truth is I was going to but when it actually came down to it, I…couldn’t do it.” He looked away. ”I…you...you make me…soft.”

Oh no. I fought off the laugh as hard as I could, but alas, it was a losing battle. The laugh escaped in a short, loud burst that shattered the silence and made Thaddeus jump. He stared at me in shock.

“Wha-,“ he started before his eyes widened in realization. ”Not like that!” he exclaimed, mortified. Then he was laughing too.

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#writeblr #original writing #original story #Syren and Thaddeus #OCs #the rooster crows

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alpacaparkaseok · 4 years ago

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The Other Side

Part One

Genre: KSJ Soulmate au

Warnings: none

Word Count: 8.7k

What is tachycardia?

Tachycardia: abnormally high heart rate

Causes: exercise, stress, anxiety, fear, anger, or love

Ventricular tachycardia: may be life threatening; please see: “soulmate”

Since I could begin to retain information around the age of four, I have been taught one thing over and over again.

Soulmates = mortal danger.

Granted, I wasn't the only one who was taught this. I wasn’t raised in some strange cult or taught that love was discouraged.

No, actually. It’s just a part of life.

Soulmates are commonplace, my own parents being an example of that. The world we live in is riddled with beautiful contradictions, one of the most prominent of all those lovely contradictions being the existence of soulmates.

There is no fancy system put into place, no timer or thread of fate that ties us together. There’s really no way of knowing who or when or where you’ll meet the person that is supposed to complete you and bring joy to your life.

I’m sure there’s some sort of way that fate decides when, seeing as the majority of people meet at a fairly young age. The number of soulmates that meet over the age of fifty are few; although it’s been known to happen a couple of times among senior citizens placed into nursing homes.

Soulmates are the sole reason that most children can pronounce the word “tachycardia” before they reach the age of seven.

Tachycardia typically isn’t fatal, it’s something people tend to experience quite often when the circumstances change. Out on a run? You’re probably experiencing tachycardia. Terrified that there’s a burglar in the house? Yep, tachycardia coming right up.

Have you just stumbled across your soulmate for the first time? Tachycardia in its most extreme form will hit you like a brick wall in just a second.

“Who can tell me what the first response you should have when you see that someone has made contact with their soulmate?”

A flurry of hands fly up to the sky, my own included. The steps are rushing around in my brain, just begging to be let out.

“Haneul?” I’m called on and fight a smile as I answer my instructor’s question.

“First, move one of them to a separate room. Place a door between them if possible, and then call 911 if there are no soulmate assistants available.”

My instructor nods, smiling warmly at me. “Exactly. Now can somebody go through the calming exercises step by step…”

Somebody nudges my side, and I turn to see my friend and fellow applicant, Yuri, smiling at me.

“You’re totally getting in,” she whispers to me.

I roll my eyes. “Just because I answered one question right?”

“He remembered your name...that definitely means something.”

Turning my attention back to the front before we’re caught whispering, I entertain the idea before kicking it out. It’s best to not think about it too much, I can’t look like I’m bored or not paying attention. This is too important a day to give a bad impression. The sigil on the instructor’s shirt only serves as a reminder.

The Bighit entertainment logo stands out like a beacon as the instructor moves about, calling up a couple of applicants to demonstrate how to properly restrain someone without hurting them.

His movements call attention to the yellow circle below the Bighit logo, the color that marks him as a ‘soulmate assistant’. Basically just a fancy word for someone who has to make sure if an idol accidentally meets a soulmate at a concert or any other event, nobody dies.

Everyone goes home happy. Alive, and newly bonded.

And if I get this job, that means I’ll go home happy and paid. That’s all I could ever want, isn’t it?

If we’re being completely honest, being hired on as a professional soulmate assistant for Bighit or any other big agency would be a dream come true for someone like me. I would get to travel, meet new people, all the while receiving a steady paycheck while attending concerts for free.

Sure, it’s a tough job. It requires constant vigilance; a single yawn at the wrong time could mean disaster. Which is part of the reason why my parents thought I was a bit crazy wanting to go into such a profession. They backed off a little once I showed them what kind of money I’d be in for, though.

All of it has led to this moment: going through one final walkthrough before we’re called in for individual interviews and eventually left to leave things up to fate. It’s a pretty big deal to have even made it this far. The actual interview process with the soulmate board of Bighit entertainment is rigorous, eventually leading to a one on one interview with one of the managers of either TXT or BTS.

Our group that started off with just over 200 applicants has been filed down to ten. Tensions are high, Yuri’s near constant fidgeting is a sure sign of that.

Ten remain, but only two will be hired on. One for BTS, and one for TXT.

Not gonna lie, I’m hoping I’m getting interviewed for TXT. I have a hunch that Yeonjun, Beomgyu and I would get along great.

Not that I’m picking favorites.

Our small overview comes to an end, the instructor getting to the part we’ve all been waiting for.

“If you’ll remain here for a few minutes, we’ll be pulling a few of you in for interviews. Remember, if you don’t get interviewed today that doesn’t necessarily mean anything. Don’t overthink it too much.”

The instructor leaves the room, and a collective sigh goes throughout our small group. Yuri is bouncing her knee, keeping her eyes planted on the wall in front of her. All I can do is wait, I suppose.

Life is cruel that way. It’s the same way with soulmates. All there is to do is wait. Live life as if you aren’t waiting for that one heartstopping (or rather, heartstarting), moment in which you come face to face with the person fate has decided will love you better than anyone else on earth.

It would be foolish of me to say that everyday for the past four years I haven’t entered my classes on campus or any restaurant holding my breath in hopes that today would be the day. College campuses are a kind of hotspot for soulmate activity; one of my trainings was actually spent just shadowing different classes and waiting for something to happen. It was my first hands-on training, and it only lasted a week.

In a single week I assisted in four different soulmate placings.

And that was in the middle of midterms; when the odds of meeting your soulmate are fairly low because stress levels are high. People are less likely to mingle with different groups of people, if they even bother to look up from their textbooks at all. So needless to say I was always waiting for it to happen.

Always waiting, never experiencing. It’s safe to say that after I graduated both my parents and I were a bit disappointed. While it’s not necessarily uncommon for people to reach college graduation age without a soulmate, it’s also an instant way to get everyone to pity you.

Sure, I wallowed for a while in self-pity. However, once I set my mind on pursuing a career in soulmate assisting within an idol group, I was an unstoppable force. And as for finding my soulmate? I used the possibility of working for Bighit as another way to make my parents feel better about their lack of a son-in-law.

If I get the job, I’ll be traveling the world. The chances of me meeting my soulmate would surely skyrocket.

“Choi Haneul?”

I jerk out of my stupor to see the instructor waving me over. Yuri gives me a light nudge, smiling at me encouragingly as I make my way over to the door with a pounding heart.

Fun fact: many people panic and think they’re experiencing what are referred to as “soulmate spikes�� the second they start to feel a spike in their heart rate. 9.9/10 times they’re wrong. One way to tell if you really are experiencing soulmate spikes (the initial spike in heart rate upon seeing your soulmate) is if you’re also experiencing intense tunnel vision.

The instructor gives me a curt nod, refusing to give anything away. He simply escorts me down the hallway and into a room where someone is looking over some papers.

Sejin, manager of BTS.

Maybe he’ll pass me along to TXT if he thinks I’d vibe better with them? No, I think to myself. There’s no way I’m about to undermine myself.

“Choi Haneul?” Sejin asks me, a light smile on his face as he looks up at me. I nod, unsure of whether or not I should even say anything. “Please, take a seat.”

The instructor closes the door behind him as he leaves, and suddenly I’m alone with someone I never realized could be perceived as intimidating.

“It’s very nice to meet you, I’m Sejin.”

I nod, fighting a sarcastic chuckle. Does he actually think I don’t know who he is, or is he just being polite? “I’m Haneul, thank you for having me.”

Sejin smiles again, looking back down at his papers. “Of course. Now, this probably won’t be a very long interview. Your stats speak for themselves.” He waves the paper in the air, and I see my application form as well as my transcripts from college. “I do just have a few questions for you, if that’s alright?”

“Of course.” I put pressure on my legs, reminding myself to keep still.

“Wonderful. First off, how comfortable are you with constantly being in new environments and having to adapt to an idol’s schedule? It’s a rigorous one.”

Chewing on the inside of my cheek I process the question. “I wouldn’t say that I’m very comfortable at all.”

Sejin’s eyes grow wide, but he proceeds. “And why is that?”

“I wouldn’t want to grow comfortable with it. That would draw away my attention from my job, and my job pretty much depends upon me remaining alert at all times. Now, could I adapt to the schedule? Without a doubt.”

Sejin gives a small chuckle, leaning back against his seat. “Huh. Interesting.”

☆

“C’mon, we have to celebrate!” Yuri bounces up and down, practically glowing. “I can’t believe we both got interviewed!”

I smile along with her, still a little giddy. “Yeah, but don’t you think that’s a little premature? It was just an interview, after all. The really important part is if they call you after.”

“Whatever, don’t you want to celebrate with me? I never thought I’d make it past the first week.”

That I can definitely agree with. It’s a competitive field for sure, and the agency does its best to weed out the weak. For good reason, obviously. Nearly half of the applicants the first week in were fangirls hoping they would match up with one of the idols they might work with. And the other half? Those were the ones who quickly realized that they weren’t crazy enough to want a job that required excessive time and effort.

“Alright, where do you want to go?”

Yuri jumps in place making me laugh. Dragging me along behind her, we take the first taxi we can find. The streets of Seoul are filling up now that the evening is coming along. It’s a Friday night; everybody is going to be out and about, celebrating the end of another week.

When we make it to the little hole-in-the-wall restaurant that the two of us have frequented a little too much over the past few months, there’s a fairly large crowd mulling about. We squeeze into a booth after paying for our food, finally able to eat without feeling like I’m going to throw up from the stress.

“Wow, is it just me or does this taste even better now?” Yuri looks up at me with wide eyes and full mouth.

“Is it just me or do you look like a gopher right now?”

If it wasn’t for the piles of food between us I’m sure she would have smacked me. She settles for a quick kick to the shin instead. Hissing at her, she offers me a sweet smile.

“So what’s Sejin like? He’s always seemed like a sweet little teddy bear to me.” Yuri asks before shoving more food into her mouth.

I shrug, thinking back over my interview. The entire thing probably only lasted about 20 minutes, but I think it went well. “He’s nice. Professional, but he honestly wasn’t that grueling. He just said my stats pretty much did all the talking. I think he was just trying to see if I was crazy or not.”

Yuri snorts, nodding along. “Same. Do you think you passed the crazy test?”

“Too soon to tell.”

We delve back into our food, talking more about our interviews. Despite the huge unanswered question hanging between us, did we make it?, the stress from earlier has dissipated. There’s nothing left to do except wait. I feel satisfied with all the work I’ve put in; there’s not a lot more I could’ve done.

It’s the sound of someone’s phone ringing that has us pausing. We look at each other with wide eyes, but there’s no way they’ve already made their decision-

“It’s just my mom,” Yuri sighs out as she brings the phone to her ear. She chats with her mother for a few minutes, reassuring her that everything went well today. I mindlessly push my food around, the sound of Yuri’s ringtone put me on edge for a moment. They definitely won’t call tonight. We just finished!

“What did your mom say?” I ask once she hangs up. Yuri shrugs.

“Just wanted to know if I was interviewed. She said she’s rooting for the both of us, she seemed pretty relieved that we’re not going for the same position.”

That’s right. While I was pulled in for an interview with Sejin, Yuri was pulled in for an interview with TXT’s managers. As far as we’re concerned, we’re now contending for our spots as soulmate assistants to two different groups. And considering that each group is only looking for 1 assistant, it’s pretty competitive. The instructor did say there was a small chance of hiring two per group, just depending on their needs. One of those would only be a part-time assistant though. Definitely not the ideal position.

“Yeah, same here-”

Yuri’s phone lights up again, and this time there is no sigh of relief as she sees who’s calling.

Looking up at me with wide eyes, she looks like she might throw up all the food we just ate. “It’s the agency.”

Gasping aloud, I drop my chopsticks and wave at her to hurry. “Answer it! Quick!” Yuri gives me a terrified look before slowly bringing the phone up to her ear. I chew on my lip as I watch her expression change from terrified to startled.

“R-really? That’s great news!” Yuri bounces up and down in her seat, and I mirror her movement. “Of course! 9am? Sounds perfect...I’ll be there! Thank you so much!”

She drops her phone on the table as she pants. “...so?” I ask her, and she grins up at me.

“I got the job!”

We both scream a little louder than necessary, the people sitting in the both across from us glaring in our direction. “No way! That was so fast!”

She nods, running her hands through her hair. “I know! They just said the decision was easier to make than they expected, seeing as I have the most experience out of the people they interviewed. I’m supposed to head in tomorrow to go over the contract and get to work.”

There’s a little twist of uncertainty in the pit of my stomach as I realize that Yuri was hired within a matter of hours. What does that mean for me?

“That’s amazing, Yuri. I’m so proud of you.”

She shakes her head, unable to stop smiling. “I’ve got to call my mom, should we head out?” I nod, following her out of the restaurant. She’s practically skipping to a taxi, waving it over. I laugh at her behavior.

“I can’t believe it though. Make sure you tell Yeonjun that we’re meant to be best friends.”

Yuri slides into the taxi, and I follow after her. She fixes me with a dazed smile as she gives directions to her apartment. We live in the same complex, so it’s easy to go anywhere with her.

“I’ll be sure to tell him. Who knows, maybe the two of you are soulmates!” Yuri winks at me even as I cringe.

“No way, he’s way too young for me.”

Rolling her eyes, Yuri manages to get one more comment out before her mother answers the phone. “Whatever, you’re only like what? Three years older? Mom! Guess what!”

By the time we make it to our apartments Yuri is still gushing to her mom on the phone. My own parents texted me, I just responded and told them I was interviewed. Their obvious excitement over making the interview fails to buoy me up, though. Not when I’m becoming more and more convinced that I’m not going to be receiving a call tonight.

Perhaps I’ll wake up to a consolation email in the morning, thanking me for my time and sending me on my way.

Yuri invites me over to her apartment to continue in the celebrations, but I opt out of it. She frowns, about to apologize or something but I speak up before she can. I don’t want any apologies; not yet. That makes it seem like it’s really over.

“My parents are begging me to call them and you know how long they can talk for,” I say, backing away. “I’d better go call them now so I can still get to sleep at a decent time. Congrats again, Yuri. You deserve it. Let me know how everything goes tomorrow, ok?”

Yuri nods, still frowning. “You sure you don’t need anything?”

“Nope! I’m all good. Good night!”

I wave before turning and heading up the stairs. Yuri lives on the ground floor whereas I live on the third. It’s a small apartment complex, and it’s pretty quiet most of the time. Tonight though, people are celebrating the weekend, and the sounds delve into my ears until I have to screw my eyes shut and press my hands up to my ears.

Leaning against my door the second I close it behind me, I sigh. The thoughts are too loud in my head right now.

What started off as a hopeful day has effectively crashed and burned right before my eyes.

Peaking one eye open I glare at the big world map I have hanging up in my living room. To anyone else it’s just another lovely piece of artwork. Painted on a thin canvas with vibrant greens, blues and purples it draws the eye and fills people with wanderlust.

For me it represents a dream that is becoming more and more unobtainable.

My best friend from my childhood found her soulmate five years ago. We were freshly graduated from high school, it was perfect. I thought that it was perfect, at least. They were able to finish growing up together, figuring out college and taking time to really fall in love before life became too crazy to hardly eat.

They got married two years ago. It was beautiful and they made it look so easy. They finished up college together and moved to Gwacheon. I haven’t seen her for a year now, we’ve just been naturally growing apart.

She’s always been supportive of me trying to find my soulmate. It’s odd, seeing that I’ve always been the one obsessed with learning about them and preparing for that moment and she’s the one that just happened to stumble upon her soulmate right after she turned 18. But she never made me feel like I was falling behind or at a loss.

Our last phone call reminds me of the entire reason why I bought that gigantic world map in the first place, hanging it where I would see it every time I walked in the door at the end of the day.

“You know Haneul, he’s out there. There’s no question about that.”

“I know...just, where? I’m starting to think that he doesn’t want to be found.”

“That’s not true. And if it is, I’ll personally slug him for you.”

“Thanks, I think?”

“You know what you need to do, Han?”

“I’m sure you’re about to tell me.”

“Of course I am. You just have to go out there! Get out in the world, get out of Seoul, and go live your life! The second you get out and start living your life will be when everything falls into place for you. I’m certain of it.”

“I’d love to do that, really. But how on earth do I manage that? I need a stable job, I have an apartment to pay for. I can’t just leave everything to go in search of someone I’ve never met and who maybe isn’t ready to be found.”

“It’s up to you. But I know you, and you’re not happy. I can’t imagine it, I’m not going to pretend to understand. We both know I got lucky...but really Haneul. I know it’s scary and there’s a lot that you don’t know the first thing about, but I just think that if you want to move on from this you have to leave the apartment and get out there. And you think he isn’t ready to be found? Nobody ever is. But I can guarantee that the two of you are both ready to be loved.”

It’s been nearly ten months since that phone call, and it’s been nearly ten months since I became friends with Yuri and found out about the agencies beginning their hiring process. It seemed too good to be true, especially once I found out about the heavy schedule filled with nearly nonstop travelling and meeting people.

I always knew there was a reason I went into the soulmates studies. Finally it seemed like the opportunities were appearing that I so desperately needed.

Ten months. Rigorous training and exhausting schedules that sometimes had me wondering if this really was the right path for me.

But every night, sometimes late enough to see the black sky begin to turn to a hazy gray with the promise of dawn approaching before I even had a chance to sleep, I stumbled home and saw that map.

Somewhere. Every night, I’d see it and chant the word to myself. Somewhere. You’re somewhere out there.

It’s worth it, isn’t it?

Slowly standing up from my position against the door, I glare at my phone as I take it from my pocket. No phone call.

Another glance at the map, the beautiful colors and lines mocking me as it tells me that while he may be somewhere, I am still here. And as long as I remain here, where my soulmate is will be a big question mark.

No phone call. No job. No soulmate.

Rubbing the back of my neck, I make my way to my bedroom. Now would probably be a great time to shower, but I’d much rather just lay here on my bed and stare up at the ceiling as I wallow in self-pity.

“Happy Friday night to me.”

☆

I think it’s on the third ring that I wake up from my slumber, still in my clothes from the day before. Groaning out a few incoherent words, I search my blanket for where my phone is ringing incessantly.

“Who…?”

Finally grasping my phone, I hold it up to my squinting eyes. My mouth drops open of its own accord, my heart rate spiking. Clearing my throat, I attempt to sound like I didn’t just wake up as I answer the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hello, I’m calling for Choi Haneul?”

My voice gets caught in my throat. “S-speaking.”

“Wonderful. My apologies for calling you so early, I’m manager Sejin, I interviewed you yesterday?”

Straightening out my clothes even though he can’t see them, I nearly scoff at the idea of him having to introduce himself. Like I’d forget.

“Right, no worries. How may I help you?” Slipping into the role of gracious host, I chew on my lip.

Sejin wastes no time getting to the point. “We certainly didn’t expect to come to a decision so quickly, but after reviewing the interviews and applicants, you were a standout Miss Choi. As a representative of Bighit entertainment and manager of BTS, I would like to offer you the position of central soulmate assistant. That is, if you’re still interested.”

I’m practically floating above the floor by the time Sejin finishes speaking. “I- yes! Yes, I would be honored.”

Sejin chuckles lowly. “That’s perfect. Let’s see it’s...6:30 am now? Would you be alright to head in to the company by 9 to go over your contract and meet with the senior soulmate assistant?”

He could have asked me to show up wearing nothing but a garbage bag at 3 in the morning, and I wouldn’t hesitate to say yes.

“Of course, I’ll be there!”

“I’ll send you an email with where to go and further instructions.”

“Thank you!”

Laughing again, Sejin allows me this bit of joy. “Thank you, Miss Choi. I’ll see you shortly.”

I’m nearly panting as I end the call, falling back against my bed and staring up at the ceiling with a mad grin. Then, body bursting with excitement I leap up from the bed and hurdle into the front room.

Hurtling to a stop before my map still hanging on the wall, I call my parents.

☆

“I wonder what it’s liiiiike,” I sing at the top of my lungs as I rummage through my closet for something to wear. Double checking the email from manager Sejin, I decide that it might be best to bring in some backup.

Bringing my phone up to my ear, I wait for Yuri to answer the phone. It’s barely seven in the morning, chances are she’s just getting ready as well.

“Haneul?”

The grin that’s been a permanent resident on my face for the past thirty minutes grows wider. “Yuri! I was wondering, could I carpool with you to the agency?”

It’s silent on the other side while Yuri connects the dots. “What do you mean...wait, shut up! You got it?! You got the job?!”

Yuri screams louder than I did while I was on the phone with my parents, but now I can’t help but scream right back. “YES! I got it! They just called me this morning!”

We’re both a happy mess as Yuri decides to bring her things upstairs to get ready with me. “I already picked out my outfit last night, I’ll just bring it up. Be right there!!” She really doesn’t waste any time, because less than two minutes later I open the door to find a panting Yuri nearly buried beneath her pile of clothes and makeup bags.

“Here, let me take that,” I mutter, laughing as she lets me ease some items of clothing off of her pile. “That was fast.”

“Han!!! I’m so happy for you!” As soon as we dump her stuff on my bed, Yuri pounces on me and begins trying to strangle me like a boa constrictor. “I was so nervous for you, and I didn’t want this to drive us apart. I knew for a fact that you were by far the most qualified, they would’ve been complete idiots to let you go!”

Laughing, I drag the both of us over to the closet. “What are you wearing to this, then? What does ‘casual-nice’ even look like?”

Yuri takes the opportunity to show me her outfit, my jaw dropping as she puts it on and shows it off.

“I was thinking something like this,” Yuri says as she straightens out the sleeves of the sweater she wears beneath the checkered brown dress.

My mouth drops open of its own accord. “Wow.”

Yuri frowns as she goes to look at herself in the mirror. “Is it too much?”

“No,” I shake my head as I delve into my thoughts. “I’m just thinking that you’re going to make everyone in there wish you were their soulmate.”

Cheeks turning a furious red color, Yuri waves off my comment. “Whatever. Let’s find you something to wear.”

In the end I try on four different outfits before settling on one that I think will do the job. It’s certainly more simple than Yuri’s but I find that it’s more functional.

“So pretty,” Yuri coos as she gets ready beside me, the vanity proving to have just enough space for the two of us.

“Me or you?” I question, smirking at her. Yuri grins.

“Both.”

☆

Yuri ends up driving us to the agency, much to my eternal gratitude. Once the time came closer, I began to become more and more nervous. It’s been a long time since I’ve started a new job; I’ve been working at the university for the past four years and only quit about a month ago in order to make room for the rigorous training that was a result of making it to the final round of applicants.

I’m grateful for Yuri’s company as she chatters about how excited she is, it’s keeping my mind off of the nerves that are currently tying themselves into a knot in the pit of my stomach.

“I just really think that the boys seem really genuine, you know?” She says, tapping out the beat to the song playing on the radio on the steering wheel. “From everything that I’ve seen and heard about them, they seem really cool. I’m excited to meet them.”

Shaking my head numbly as we slow to a stop before a red light, I try to remember just how badly I wanted this job. “Yeah, they do. I’m jealous, I wanted TXT!”

Yuri cackles as she glances over at me. “You can’t even complain, you’re probably going to be paid way more than me!”

That much is true. While Yuri will still be traveling a lot and certainly have her hands full with the five members, I’m going to be paid more. With the constant traveling, meetings, and seven total members, my job will be nonstop.

Either way, the moral of the story is this: we’re about to make some major money. But there won’t really ever be enough time to spend it.

That’s not why people become soulmate assistants. Those that go after it for the money are quickly weeded out. A job that requires all of your time and then some is exhausting, and the uncertain element of every situation is enough to drive some people crazy. I’ve heard about how concerts can be nightmares sometimes, especially when the crowd is huge.

Just imagine it: one of the group members makes eye contact with someone for less than a second, and suddenly they’ve got tunnel vision and are trying to jump off the stage into the sea of adoring fans that are all too happy to receive them. Then, somewhere in the crowd of thousands of fans, there’s a poor person who’s freaking out and feeling the symptoms of tachycardia, but guess what? So is everyone in the crowd. Adrenaline is pumping through them all since they’re at their favorite band’s concert.

Long story short, it’s like trying to find a needle in a haystack. The biggest thing is for one of the soulmate assistants to grab the idol before they can abandon all reason and their heart gives out, and the other assistant has to find the fan who’s wildest dream just came true.

It doesn’t happen that often, but it has been known to happen on occasion. The most recent was at a TWICE concert, where Sana happened upon her soulmate in the middle of a set. The video of the soulmate assistant acting in record time to contain the situation went viral and it’s one that I had to watch several times throughout my training.

“You guys have a senior assistant, don’t you?” I ask, wondering at my title as central soulmate assistant.

“Yep,” Yuri starts back up again as the light turns green, checking the clock. We’ve still got plenty of time. “From the email they sent me it sounds like I’ll be a junior assistant for about six months before moving up to senior.”

“So fast?”

Yuri shrugs. “Sounds like the senior assistant is about ready to retire. What’s your title?”

“Central.”

“Oh, so fancy.”

There are typically two different forms of soulmate assistant hierarchy; the junior/senior pattern and then the central system.

Junior/senior system is pretty self-explanatory: the senior assistant has typically worked with the group for a while already, and the junior assistant acts as an apprentice of sorts. Learning the trade and preparing to someday take over the responsibilities of the senior assistant. They work as a team to ensure the safety of the group.

A central assistant is a more in-depth and new system. Essentially, I’ll have eyes and ears everywhere from various staff members, who are constantly updating me on potential soulmates. All of the staff have been educated in the basics of soulmate studies, so they know what to do to subdue the situation if need be.

According to Sejin’s email, I will most likely be the only licensed soulmate assistant on the team. My job is to remain close to the members so I can hopefully be the first on the scene to help and get everything under way.

It’s exciting, but also a lot of pressure. My only hope is that the boys don’t run into their soulmates for a while; I would like to at least get to know everyone before having to get all up in their personal space.

The agency looms before us in the morning sun, looking somehow inviting and dreadful at the same time. Yuri follows what the security tells her at the front, parking in the parking garage before turning the car off.

8:42.

“We’re a bit early, but at least now we’ll be able to find where we’re supposed to go.”

I nod numbly at her words, trying to fight the pounding in my heart.

Side Effect #1: Rapid Pulse Rate

“I’m kind of freaking out.”

“Me too. I’m glad you’re here, though.”

“I’m glad you’re here, too.” I grin at Yuri.

It’s quiet in the car before we build up the courage to get out. Our shoes tap against the ground, filling the silent garage with noise. Once inside, we’re directed by a receptionist toward the offices of Sejin and TXT’s management. They’re on the same floor, so we take the elevator together.

As soon as the doors close, Yuri lets out a squeal. “I’m going to dieeee!”

Laughing giddily at her reaction, I lean up against the wall of the elevator and try my best to control my breathing. “Same. Same. Whoo, I need to breathe.”

Side Effect #2: Shortness of breath

The elevator ride is entirely too short, because before I know it Yuri is dragging me out into the hallway and searching for the office #12. I’m supposed to be looking for #17.

Of course Yuri finds hers first, my friend coming to a stop just before the door, turning to grab my hand with surprising strength.

“Quick, tell me that I’ll be fine,” she hisses.

Gently removing her hand from mine, I give her an encouraging smile. “You’ll do great, and everything will work out just fine, Yuri.”

Rolling her shoulders, she gives me a mock salute before stepping up to the door. “See you later?”

“Good luck.”

I scamper past as she knocks on the door, looking back as she’s ushered in by a middle-aged man who must be the senior soulmate assistant. He wears the tell-tale yellow circle on his shirt, his eyes wide and alert as though always on the lookout.

He must have left an apprentice with TXT; there are always a few mulling about the agency to step in for the main assistants when they need to attend to other things.

#17 is just a few doors down, the door already wide open as I walk up to it. I don’t allow myself to pause and freak out again, because I’m scared that they’ll hear me start screaming out here or something.

Shoving down the nervousness to the corners of my mind, I take a deep breath and tap the open door lightly.

Sejin sits at his desk, talking quietly to someone sitting in the chair before his desk. He looks up at me, smiling politely. The person in the chair before him turns around at the sound of my knock, and I find myself face to face with none other than the leader of BTS.

“Miss Choi, great to see you,” Sejin stands, Namjoon as well as he waves.

I bow, hoping that my face isn’t too red as I look into the office. It looks like it’s just Namjoon. What a relief.

“Thank you for calling me back,” I say, nodding to Namjoon. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Namjoon smiles at me, gesturing for me to take the seat beside him. “It’s nice to meet you, too. Sejin spoke highly of you.”

Shuffling into the office, I give Sejin a surprised look. “That was kind of you.”

“I was only telling the truth. Namjoon helped me make the decision in regards to the position, so don’t just thank me.”

Namjoon gives me a sheepish smile before settling back down in the chair. I follow suit, mumbling out a small ‘thank you’.

Once we’re all settled, Sejin produces a packet and slides it across the table to me, another one to Namjoon, and keeps one for himself.

“Ok, shall we get started?”

Sejin begins explaining the contract, Namjoon listening intently beside me. The fact that Namjoon helped with all of this makes me feel a little better somehow. It makes me feel like I won’t be quite so out of place with BTS.

We’re stuck in his office for nearly an hour just going over the finer details of the job, and by that time I’ve finally come out of my shell enough to form a few intelligent questions.

“How many staff members do you have that went through soulmate training within the past three months?” I ask, leaning back in my chair as I examine the Staff Preparedness section in the contract.

Sejin looks over something on his computer. “Within the past three months? Only two; the rest are within the year. We have them renew the course once a year. Why three months?”

“There was a technique that was completely discredited by Léo Dupont and they just began applying it in soulmate training within the past three months. While it may not seem that important, it can sometimes make a big difference in timing.”

Namjoon looks at me with wide eyes, a hint of respect blooming there. “What was the technique he discredited?”

“The glass door technique. It was believed that if the soulmates could still see each other but refrain from actual physical contact, this would assist in the ‘come down’ from the surge in heart rate.”

“It doesn’t?” Sejin asks.

I shake my head. “No, in fact, recent studies show that it nearly doubled the ‘come down’ time. It also served as a spike in the heart rate, long after it should have returned to a normal range. It nearly killed Jennifer Aniston before someone moved her to a more secure location. Best case scenario is a complete cut-off from view, and engaging in verbal contact rather than physical.”

“That’s good to know,” Sejin mumbles, typing something out on his laptop. “I’ll send out a memo with that information as well as advise staff to renew their training as soon as possible.”

We go over a few more details before Namjoon sits up in his seat. “We’re about done, right? I just got a text from Soobin saying they’re all gathered up and ready to go.”

My heart rate spikes again as I realize that we must be meeting together after this. And from the sounds of it, it’s practically the entire agency.

“Yeah, just about. Do you want to sign, Namjoon, and you can head out?”

Namjoon signs Sejin’s copy of the contract before getting up and heading toward the door. “We’re excited to have you join the team, Miss Choi.”

“Thank you! And you can just call me Haneul, don’t worry about it.”

Namjoon’s dimples make an appearance as he smiles back at me. “Then I’m just Namjoon to you. See you guys in a bit.”

Sejin covers the last few points in the span of ten or so minutes, clearly ready to get going like I am. We finish up going over vacation days when he leans back with a sigh.

“And yeah, I think that’s about it. Any questions? Today you’ll be getting a feel for the schedule and meet the boys and staff you’ll be working closely with, so don’t hesitate to ask them any more questions as they come.”

Palms starting to sweat with the idea of meeting the rest of Bighit shortly, I give a curt shake of the head. “I think I’m good for now.” Ignoring the tightness in my chest, I reach out for the contract.

Side Effect #3: Chest pain

“Wonderful. Just sign here, and I’ll send you a copy of this.”

☆

Sejin and I walk down the hall after being dropped off at the fifth floor. The second the elevator doors opened I could hear the ruckus of two kpop groups in one room.

To my shock Yuri’s voice rings out, followed by a bout of laughter. It would appear that she’s already found her place.

Sejin gives me an encouraging smile as we inch closer to the room at the end of the hall. “You ready? It’s been a pretty big couple of days for you.”

I can’t help but find comfort in Sejin’s attitude. I’m glad he understands the deer in the headlights look I’m probably sporting right now.

I hope my soulmate is like him.

The thought passes through my mind suddenly, making me go blank for a moment. While it’s a true sentiment, I have to focus on making a good impression today so I can find my soulmate another day.

One day at a time, Hanuel.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” I respond, offering him a shaky smile in return. Sejin chuckles, and I wonder if he felt the same way early on in his manager days. I wonder if he still occasionally feels that way, now that BTS has grown more than anyone ever expected.

He goes before me, entering the room and already falling into a conversation with someone. I hesitate for a second, my heart pounding so hard that it’s hard to focus. Rolling my neck, I take a step into the room.

“Ah, there she is!” Yuri chirps out, leaving from where she was beside Beomgyu, who was showing her a video on his phone. “You guys took a long time.”

If my heart wasn’t currently trying to leap out of my ribcage, I would come up with something funny to say.

“Haneul is very thorough,” Sejin comments from where he stands beside one of the TXT managers. “Would you like to introduce yourself?”

“Quick,” I hear someone speak up, “Everyone pretend like Sejin didn’t just say her name!”

It was Hueningkai that made the comment. I can tell who it was because the boy in question is currently dodging an elbow to the ribs from Taehyun. Yuri laughs at their behavior before looking back to me expectantly.

“Oh,” my voice sounds a bit croaky. After clearing my throat, I try again. “Hello everyone. I’m Choi Haneul, it’s nice to meet you all.”

The seven members of BTS come up to the front, gathering in a line like it’s second nature. Namjoon gives me a small smile, which I take comfort in.

“Well, you’ve met me already...this is everyone else.”

Taehyung steps forward, giving me a small wave and grinning wide. “Just call me Tae.”

Jimin gives his friend a wide-eyed look. “Isn’t that a bit informal for just meeting?” Tae’s cheeks go a little red.

“Is it?” He asks, and I nearly pass out from the amount of sweetness in the room. “I think we’ll be good friends, so why not just skip the formalities?”

The boys reflect various levels of long-suffering as Jungkook shakes his head while the rest of the room laughs at Tae’s odd manner. “We both know it doesn’t work like that.”

Sejin answers the question I didn’t even know I was thinking. “In case you’re wondering, they’re always like this. Might as well get used to it.”

Yuri giggles at my reddened cheeks, but I brush off the embarrassment enough to look back at the boys. “That’s good to know.” The boys break from their line in order to return to wherever they were lounging about earlier. Once they turn to leave I feel a bit better; my heart calming down. Hopefully, with time, I’ll be able to breathe properly around them.

I remain near the door, unsure as to what to do next. It looks like Sejin and the other managers are preparing to give a debriefing of sorts and everyone is just waiting around for it. Thankfully, Yuri remains beside me.

“How are you holding up?” She asks me quietly. I give her a long look, conveying the depth of my feelings perfectly.

“I can’t calm down. I feel like I’m either going to pass out or going to run the length of Seoul in five minutes flat.”

Side Effect #4: Lightheadedness and/or fainting (syncope)

Yuri snorts. “Now that I’d like to see.”

Taehyung calls out to me, pulling me from my conversation. “You’re from Seoul, Miss Choi?”

I smile warmly at him, already taking a liking to him. He’s one big contradiction: his looks make him appear intimidating, but he has the warmest personality.

“I’m originally from Anyang, actually. But I’ve been in Seoul for the past five years.”

“Oh, we’re neighbors!”

Jin is the one who spoke, and I look to where he stands behind the couch, leaning down to watch something on Jungkook’s phone. His eyes are turned up to me, a hint of excitement at being from neighboring cities evident in his expression.

Less than a second is all it takes.

In the second grade, I learned that within the span of a single second, a bumblebee can beat its wings 200 times.

That fact fascinated my young brain; 200 times in a single second?! Of all the wonders in the world I had discovered and had yet to discover in my life, this was the fact that stayed with me. How could such a small creature accomplish such an improbable feat, all within the confines of the time it takes to blink?

My junior year of high school I learned that the average pair of soulmates begin to experience the initial spike in heart rate that leads to tachycardia within the first 0.002 seconds of eye contact. That means, even if it’s a passing glance, the moment those two sets of eyes make contact, everything is about to change.

As I hold eye contact with Jin across the room, I believe that there is a small part of me that knows I should be thinking about everything I’ve learned about soulmates over the past few years. Where are the steps I used to recite day and night in order to keep them memorized?

Yet, that little 8 year old girl with wonder-filled eyes as she learns about bumblebee’s amazing abilities is the only thing I can come up with. Almost as if she’s in the room with me, looking back and forth between Jin and I with that same expression.

Something clicks for me in that single moment as my heart rate continues to jolt and jump. Something seems to connect between bumblebees and soulmates.

Like a bumblebee’s wings frantically beating to keep itself aloft, my own heart begins to do its best to meet the same pace.

Side Effect #5: Heart palpitations (a racing, uncomfortable or irregular heartbeat or a sensation of "flopping" in the chest)

I’m barely aware of distant voices all around me, a few growing in volume as the truth sinks in. I feel arms trapping my own against my torso, and I gasp for air as breathing becomes more difficult. Frowning, I realize that someone is trying to move me away.

Away?

Jin seems to notice I’m being moved away at the same time I do, because the frozen posture he had is broken as he straightens and lurches forward.

He’s all I can see. It strikes me in that moment that he looks a bit different in real life. Sharper, yet somehow more welcoming. Those eyes, although frantic, have kindness imbued in them. The fingers that are outstretched toward me are a bit crooked, and I can’t help but wonder for a moment if our hands will fit together like everyone always says soulmates do.

Wait, soulmates?

Amidst the pounding in my chest and burning lungs, I suddenly have a moment of clarity. The wiry arms wrapped around my torso must belong to Yuri, and she’s speaking calmly into my ear.

“Count with me, Haneul. 1, 2, 3…”

Opening my mouth and marveling at how dry and scratchy my throat feels, I croak out, “...4…5…”

“What comes next, Han?”

“...6.”

Yuri hums, gently trying to ease me backward. When my body locks up, she tries a new method. Coming around to face me, she keeps a firm grip on my shoulders, and gets up on her tippy toes to look me in the eyes.

“We’ve got to move you to a separate room, Han. You remember, don’t you?”

There’s a small voice in my head that wants to tell her that yes, I do remember. However it’s drowned out by the sound of my heart beating in my ears as it continues to pick up speed. Yuri is instructing the boys to grab Jin as he continues marching toward me on shaky legs. He’s only about three feet away, arms extending toward me while Yuri pins my arms down and shoves.

“Grab him!” Yuri shouts even as I cry out from being shoved away. In a flash I see a couple of different pairs of arms reaching out to Jin, effectively stopping him in his tracks as he struggles against them.

“Please,” Jin says in a surprisingly calm voice even as he pushes against Jungkook and Sejin. “Please, just let me-”

“Han, I know your mind is a jumbled mess right now, but please. Remember that this is a matter of life or death. You want to see him?” Yuri doesn’t wait for my response, which makes sense as I haven’t once looked away from Jin. “Then get out of here. Now.”

Like an electric shock to my senses, I breathe in deep. Still unable to look anywhere other than Jin - his sweater has a loose thread on the collar, I should fix that for him - I do the only thing I can.

Closing my eyes is like swimming through concrete, but gritting my teeth I just manage to do it. The second I break contact with Jin, my body relaxes just enough for Yuri to push against me and shove my unwilling feet out the door.

She has a firm grip on the back of my shoulders still as she shouts out to nobody in particular, “I need a room!”

Someone must answer her, because we abruptly change directions before coming to a stop. I refuse to open my eyes for fear of falling back into the imobile state I was in before, and Yuri still hasn’t given me the clear.

“Yeonjun, grab my bag! Bring it to me.”

The sounds of everyone scampering around are drowned out as I hear Jin’s broken voice calling out once more.

“No, don’t take her. Please don’t take her from me.”

Like a dam of freezing water breaking over my head, my eyes open and I spin around, seeing Jin breaking free of Sejin’s grasp and dragging Jungkook along with him.

Just as my eyes find his once more, the door slams shut.

Part 2

masterlist

taglist: @taylorroe3 @dreamcatcherjiah @thecaffeinatedscribbles @marianeamine

#jin soulmate au #bts soulmate au #Kim Seokjin soulmate au #soulmate au #jin soulmate #jin x oc #bts x oc #jin series #jin fluff #jin angst #bts angst #bts love story #bts love #jin bts #bts jin #jin deserves more #Kim Seokjin fluff #kim seokjin

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todoscript · 5 years ago

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10, Tamaki Amajiki, fluff or smut

Support

prompt: 10. “You really shouldn’t touch that… I told you.” genre: fluff. pairing: amajiki tamaki x fem!reader word count: 2.0k+ warnings: mentions of insecurities.

author’s note: This is longer than a drabble should be but I couldn’t control myself. Also, this is my first time writing for Tamaki so I hope I did well portraying him. Big thank you to @burnedbyshoto for being my beta reader as well as recommending the title for this work!

Tamaki Amajiki has experienced an extraordinary amount of circumstances in his life so far that not many boys his age could even imagine to go through. He’s fought crooks, robots, supervillains, hell even the yakuza, and has managed to come out in one piece every time and claim victory. Of course, he has his training and studies from a prestigious hero school to thank for equipping him with the tools he needs to combat such peril. However, no amount of training or experience could truly prepare him for this new, menacing adversary.

A classroom full of school children.

Being a trio backed up by the honorable title of The Big 3, Mirio, Nejire, and Tamaki were given the opportunity to represent U.A. High School as they speak to classrooms of elementary students next week. This was a chance to talk with the younger generation and encourage them to think about a possible career as a crime fighter, while also ensuring that their futures were in safe hands thanks to heroes like them.

As a shy, introverted person whose solution in these social situations is to envisage everyone in the form of vegetables, Tamaki was not keen on this idea. Kids were boisterous and contained way too much energy in their little bodies to handle, making it much harder to conjure them as potatoes in his head. Not only that, but these days they’ve grown judgemental and full of themselves. They boast about their newly developed quirks amongst each other at playgrounds, already comparing their abilities at such an early age. All in all, his fragile spirit cannot handle interacting with these miniature monsters.

Nejire and Mirio seemed much better suited for this task. They glowed with charisma, and their energetic personalities naturally drew people to them. No doubt, the kids will especially be fond of how receptive they are to their young and frisky attitudes. Tamaki felt he just paled in comparison behind their light; however, his two friends would not allow him to deem himself that way.

“C’mon Tamaki, you have so many things going for you!” assures an optimistic Mirio during lunch as Tamaki sulks in the thought of meeting the kids. “You have an amazing quirk! I bet if you show it off, the kids will love it.”

True, the ability to manifest certain animal attributes depending on whatever he digests could tide the youngsters into liking him. But at the same time, would they really be captivated that easily? Aren’t kids at that age more into flashy things like lasers and explosions? No one wants to see him with cow hooves and clam hands, not with Nejire spiraling concussive vitality from her palms and Mirio shooting right up out of solid ground.

“I… I don’t know if the kids would be into my quirk…” he murmurs, eyes averting to his twiddling thumbs beneath the table.

“Amajiki, if you’re aiming to be a Pro Hero, you can’t let a bunch of ten-year-olds deter you!” chides Nejire. She forks a bit of her strewn pasta.

“Easy for you to say, Hadou. You’re bubbly and approachable. Everyone always comes to you. Meanwhile, the freshmen were intimidated by me before I even spoke a word.” Tamaki broods at his plate of food that grows colder during the conversation, but he can’t muster an appetite to eat it. “I can’t imagine how the kids would feel.”

Nejire chews on her noodles with a pitched hum. The trill ceases the moment her eyes light up, an idea flickering in her head.

“Say, how about you visit ____ at support during hero training today? I bet she can hook you up with some flashy gear that they’ll like.”

The utter of your name sends Tamaki’s body rigid.

“Oop, I think you touched something you shouldn’t have, Nejire,” Mirio gestures to the steely expression written over their friend’s face.

Dealing with children was one thing, but you were another matter entirely.

Being enrolled at U.A. since their very first year, the senior students of the hero and support departments coincided together. They drew out each other’s potentials—whether it was fighting on the battlefield or producing new innovative gadgets in workshops. Naturally, within that time, Tamaki developed a fondness for you.

You were a spirited individual driven by your passion for creating and bringing out the very best out of everyone you worked with, which included himself. With him, you were patient, never one to discourage or berate him despite his nervous and awkward nature that he viewed as probably a displeasure to work with. You took all his strengths and weaknesses to heart, and created the right tools to make him shine in triumph.

If Tamaki is the dead night, then you are the moon and stars that lit up his dark twilight, enlightening the world with his true potential.

However, the boy has never brought up his feelings to you, driven back by the thought you didn’t reciprocate, or wanted to focus more on your future as a craftswoman rather than prattle with romance. To bring you up in his dilemma of having to interact with mere elementary school kids is the last thing he wants to do.

“I don’t—”

“C’mon Tamaki! This is the perfect opportunity to kill two birds with one stone!” Nejire enthusiastically waves a finger ready to describe her expertly thought-out plan. “You come to ____ asking for some of her gear, the ordeal brings you closer together, and then boom, you naturally confess your feelings and then impress those kids next week!” She sits with a proud, lifted head and hands on her hips after explaining her master proposal.

“Hm that’s quite an ambitious plan, Nejire,” chuckles Mirio.

“Way too ambitious if you ask me,” Tamaki scowls, uncertainty forming in his features.

“Confessing to someone you’ve liked for so long doesn’t come that easily…”

Nejire pouts, spinning the last remnants of her pasta around her fork. “Well I say you should still think it over! If anything, the new gear could help.”

And so he does. Lunch soon passes in the next flutter of an eyelash. During an academic class, Tamaki ponders the idea a bit more until it’s eventually time for their hero training course.

Lo and behold, he’s standing right outside the development studio with wickedly narrow brows and contemplating eyes, acting like if he glared at the door hard enough, all his problems would be solved. With his feet cemented into the ground, he doesn’t budge for the next couple of minutes. His mind bounces between his predicament and the possible solutions at hand, reaching to a standstill. Ultimately, he knows nothing will come out of not making a decision, so after another second of thought, he decides to progress.

The steel door jars open at a slide of the handle and Tamaki ganders at the messy workspace before him. He navigates through a mess of gizmos and gadgets with careful hesitant steps.

“____? Are you in here? I, um, need your help with something,” he calls, tentative voice drawing out across the room.

“Tamaki? Is that you?” He hears the distance between your voices, “Sorry, I’ll be with you in just a minute…”

He nods to no one in particular, standing in place as his fingers play with the hem of his white, hooded cape. Too late to turn back now, he thinks. While he dawdles, he can’t help but let his eyes wander around the room, eyeing the vast amounts of meticulously crafted contraptions and accessories all developed in a high school workshop.

The support course sure is something else, Tamaki regards the creativity such students have, being able to construct so many complicated gadgets. He doesn’t know how you do it, but supposes that was another charm about you that he admired so much.

Suddenly, a whirring noise catches his attention, and he turns in its direction. He spots a device flaring in place on a table across from him, the widget shifting and flashing into an assortment of colors that isn’t comfortable for his liking.

“Uh… ____… C-Can you come out real quick? I think there’s something wrong with this thing,” he warns, tone rising with every dissonant sound the device continues to resonate.

“OK Tamaki, I’m done. What do you need— Whoa!”

Your words are cut off by Tamaki, pulling you to him using vines sprouted from his fingers, thanks to the vegetables he managed to eat today. Confused, you brace against his chest as the evident droning whir increases in volume. Tamaki holds a wavering hand over the device.

“Ah wait, Tamaki, you really shouldn’t touch that!” you cautioned. However, Tamaki’s entire hand transforms into a giant clam that quickly envelopes the contraption just as it flares and reaches its peak. He contains the small burst of energy within his shell with a wince, preventing any catastrophe from befalling on both of you and the work studio.

“Hehe, told you,” you shakily laugh off which makes him sigh as he releases you from his steady grasp.

“____, you could’ve gotten severely hurt,” he chides.

“But I didn’t because of you, so thank you very much, Suneater,” you say with a grin. Tamaki slightly tugs his hood down to obscure the growing blush on his cheeks that threaten to expose his flustered reaction to your gratitude.

“It... It was nothing,” he manages. You nod in response before approaching the faulty contraption, shifting your gaze side-to-side to inspect the damage.

“Sorry about that, I think this is one of Hatsume’s inventions from Class 1-F.”

You toss it into a pile of other defective equipment, relaying in your mind to reprimand your junior later.

“Anyways, is there anything I can do for you, Tamaki? You said something about needing my help?” Ah, right, he nearly forgot. He slowly nods.

“I need some new gear…” he admits. A light of passion infused with curiosity dazzles in your eyes.

“What for? Going to face a new powerhouse crime organization next week? Ooh, maybe another gangster threat in the criminal underground? Or perhaps you need something to combat a future natural disaster?” you surmise, but Tamaki only avoids your gaze at all your grand guesses when comparing it to the true reason:

“I need something to impress these kids I’ll be talking to next week…” he mutters under his breath, as if embarrassed.

“Huh?” You knit your eyebrows, muddled by the answer. Tamaki’s head imbues with self-conscious, anxious thoughts about what you must be thinking. However, your response to his predicament is one that leaves him more perplexed than you are.

“Why? You don’t need any gear to impress anyone. You’re fine the way you are,” you say without a single pause or hint of doubt in your tone. Tamaki pauses, grabbing his bearings at your statement before eyeing his spread out hands, unsure.

“But I’m so plain, not flashy or charismatic like Mirio and Hadou… Would kids like me the way I am?�� he urges the question with uncertainty, keeping his stare on his calloused palms.

Would you like me the way I am?

You reach out for his hands, holding your own over them and bringing his wavering gaze to peer into yours.

“Tamaki, the kids will like you for who you are as long as you’re passionate about what you’re aiming to do. And that’s to save everyone and become a hero, right?” you assure, slightly tilting your head.

“You protected me without even a thought in your mind just now. That makes you heroic and courageous,” you continue, “Your nervous and shy personality are just small little quirks about you that make you who you are. You don’t need to change that.”

A smile of pure adoration forms on your lips. “Plus it’s what I like so much about you.”

Tamaki’s eyes lift in realization at your statement, his hands slowly gripping yours from below like he may not have heard you correctly.

“You like me?” he repeats, and you nod your head.

“I’ve liked you since our first year, silly.” You giggle at the stunned look etched on his face.

“I…” his words are caught in his throat for a second over the growing developments, but with every ounce of his being, he musters them out, his tone laced in only warmth and affection for you.

“I’ve liked you too, ___, I-I always have. You were so dazzling that I couldn’t help but let these feelings for you grow, and now, I’m glad I got to say them to you.” He finally admits to all the emotions stirred inside him for the past three years, and your smile widens. You inch forward, planting a small peck on his cheek that renders him a flustered mess from the surprise.

“Alright, go show those kids who Suneater is next week!”

Nejire’s plan was a success, after all.

#bnha #bnha x reader #tamaki amajiki #mha #bnhabookclub #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #mha x reader #amajiki tamaki #tamaki x reader #tamaki amajiki x reader #my writing #bnha scenarios #mha scenarios #bnha imagines #mha imagines

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falsegoodnight · 3 years ago

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hello ris! im a new writer. im asexual and have never had sex. ive written some unpublished fic without sex in it but i think i wanna challenge myself to write some sex scene even if it's only 1k. do you have any advice on this? because i really don't have any experience about it😅 should i watch porn? should i read more pwp? i want to ask more writer mutuals about how they get so many knowledge about sex but i feel silly bc most of us are the same age how can i not know anything about it😅 im sorry i only have the courage to ask you because you're really nice and im sorry for dumping this on you. you don't have to answer this, i hope you have a good day💕 so excited to read more of your works you're so amazing

hello!! first of all, don't apologize! you're not dumping anything on me!! and you also shouldn't feel silly for not knowing much about sex at our age or ANY age even if you aren't ace!! anyone who tries to make you feel inferior for lack of knowledge regarding sex or not having sex in general is a loser, and that is that <3

second, writers write about things they haven't experienced or don't know fully all the time! i personally don't think sex scenes are any different. obviously people who have had sex may have an "advantage" so to speak in writing about it just like someone who's a marine biologist irl would have an advantage when it comes to writing a fic where a character is a marine biologist, but if we all wrote only what we actually know and have experienced... well, fics would be boring as fuck lol. so when we do set out to write about something we're not familiar with, some people may decide to just wing it (which is valid), but most of us do a little research.

and you've already mentioned two things that i think are great ideas!! if you're comfortable with it, watching porn is honestly a great way to navigate things like body or limb placement (especially for more complicated positions) or other visual details!! and reading pwps or sex scenes from writers you believe successfully write smut is also a great way to get a feel for things like specific language, how they develop the scene, etcetera. i know a lot of writers have shared advice for writing smut too so you should look into that!! i also attempted to give some basic advice here (i also link some other posts to check out!) if you're interested. it also depends on what sort of sex scene you want to write – if you want to write something a little kinkier or delve into d/s dynamics, i definitely recommend checking out actual bdsm websites/resources for accurate information on how to portray a safe and healthy dynamic (definitely do not rely on fanfiction as a sole source for this in particular lol).

although it may seem intimidating to write a sex scene, i really would just approach it like you'd approach any other scene with a physical component! research and practice are your best bets!! i definitely haven't personally experienced every type of sex-related act that i've written about and i think that's the same with a lot of people, so don't feel discouraged about that!

i wish you the best of luck with all your writing endeavors!!! feel free to reach out if you have any other questions or just want to talk!!

#asks #writing advice #my writing tips

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duuhrayliegh · 4 years ago

Text

watch your six - part two

pairing: eventual bucky x reader

warnings: some violence, trigger warning of sedation (it isn’t in there for a long time and the description of it isn’t super good BUT it’s still there), mentions of kidnapping, i think that’s it.

word count: just a bit over 3k

a/n: okay! here’s part two, i’m experimenting with the longer parts, so let me know what y’all think of it. bucky does make an appearance soon, i swear y’all :) just be patience with me babes. also, i know this isn’t like the typical fan fic because it isn’t in the second person but we’re powering through together. i hope y’all enjoy babes <3

p.s.: if y’all want to be added to a tag list for this series, shoot me a message and we’ll get it worked out

series m.list

ray’s m.list

*****************

I shot up from my bed, eyes wild and frantic searching for anything to ground me to my current surroundings. It was just a dream, just a dream. It was just a dream. Except it didn’t feel like a dream. Everything was too detailed, too crisp for it to have really been just a dream. I swung my legs off my bed and grabbed a hold of the fluffy white comforter. Groaning, I pushed my feet to touch the cold hardwood of my apartment. I made my way towards my kitchen and my coffee maker. I popped a breakfast blend K-cup into the slot and dumped a mug full of water into the side of the machine. Pressing the button, I turned while listening to the coffee machine force the water through the coffee grounds and filter and into my cup.

Looking out into my living room, I eyed my couch. It was intact with no bullet holes riddling the cushions. It was still the pristine white that I’ve spent many nights curled on watching movies. The dark stained wood coffee table in front of it brought memories of long study sessions with books and loose papers strewn across it. A faint smile graced my lips as I was reminiscing. The black coffee maker spit the last of the dark substance into my mug, so I reached into my cabinets and pulled out the essentials. I’ve never been one for pure black coffee, tastes like tar in my opinion. The aftertaste isn’t something that I want to deal with for as long as it’ll last.

I dumped two spoonfuls of sugar into the cup and then poured a dash of liquid creamer in along with it. Stirring the now light brown liquid, I raised the mug to my mouth and took a much needed sip. Sighing as I swallowed, I walked around to the couch in the living. Plopping down, I kicked my feet to rest on top of the coffee table. Leaning back against the cushions, I tried to process what my dream was about.

It was just too real to be a dream, right? It was awfully specific to be a dream. Squinting my eyes, I nodded my head and set my mug on the table. Reaching for my laptop and opening the first browser I could, I searched ‘dream analysis.’ Maybe they’ll have something that can give me an answer as to why it was so clear. Scrolling down the first website, my eyes scanning the bolded letters. Nine Common Dreams and What They Could Mean, oh perfect. Flying, being naked in public, teeth falling out, cheating, none of these are like my dream. I shook my head and swiped out of the website and back to the search engine.

It was late in the morning and the sun was rising to its peak when I finally gave up. It’s obvious what happened though, I’ve gone mental. Absolutely insane, just plain certifiable. No, no, that’s not what it is. My coffee now gone cold, I placed my closed laptop on the coffee table next to the discarded coffee mug. I stood and my head started throbbing. Deciding I would have a better outlook on things without a pounding head, I took a shower. The water was a pleasant, scalding temperature. Leaving the bathroom with my hair in a towel and another wrapped around my body, I changed into a simple pair of ripped mom jeans and an oversized t-shirt. Hanging my towels on the rack in the bathroom, I brushed my teeth and then turned out the light as I left.

Today was my one day off of work this week and I was going to savor it. Slipping on a pair of ratty sneakers and grabbing my purse from the hook next to the door, I left my cozy apartment. I locked the door and shoved my keys all the way to the bottom of my purse. I left my building with the intention of trying to shake off the nightmare that I had. To do so, I went into the coffee shop at the end of the block. I pushed the doors open and was greeted with a warm and inviting atmosphere. Dark floors gave way to twinkling lights illuminating the charcoal gray walls. Behind the counter, I make eye contact with the barista and receive a tight-lipped smile from him. “Hi, welcome to Beniot’s Beans. What can I get started for you today?”

I glanced at the chalkboard menu and ran my eyes over it quickly. I already knew what I wanted, but I needed to prepare myself to say it out loud. “Hello, can I get a medium caramel iced coffee to go, please?” I rocked back and forth on the balls of my feet as he scribbled my order onto the clear plastic cup. He told me my total as I looted in my wallet for my bills. After placing the money in the register, he explained that they would call my order when it was ready. I nodded and walked off to find somewhere to sit that was out of the way. After situating myself on one of the comfortable armchairs, I pulled my phone out in an effort to discourage human interaction. After retrieving my order from the counter, I sat back down in the armchair, trying to decide what to do next. The hour was just rolling over to being almost lunchtime, which made me realize that I hadn’t eaten anything yet. Shrugging my purse back onto my shoulder and shoving my phone into it, I left the store throwing a small wave to the barista behind the counter.

Sighing contentedly, I made the trek back to my apartment while steadily drinking the iced coffee. Some people say coffee shouldn’t be cold, and then there’s people who have sense. Giggling to myself, I took in my surroundings. Brick buildings lined the small two-way road. The donut shop on the opposite side of the street had two cop cruisers sitting in front of it. The contrasting black and white paint with black lettering outlined in yellow was intimidating. There was no reason for it to be, but there was just an aura of discomfort encapsulating the cars. By this time, I had stopped, slurping on my almost empty iced coffee. Breaking out of my trance with a ring of a bell, four officers exited the donut shop. Two of the officers held off-white cardboard boxes, they were all laughing at something. I tilted my head and scrunched my brows, guess the stereotype about cops is true, they love their donuts. Sensing a stare, one of the officers looked around for the source. Eventually, our gazes locked and he winked. Uh, ew. Making a face, I shook my head and went about my way back to my apartment.

Despite that experience, it was nice to be able to have no specific agenda, just relaxing and going with the flow. My inner monologue stopped when I got to my kitchen and started deciding what to prepare for lunch. Finally landing on a box of macaroni and cheese to satisfy my hunger, I set to work. The pot of water now on the stove, I tossed my empty plastic cup from the coffee shop into the garbage bin. I went around to my living room and grabbed my coffee mug from earlier and placed it in the sink, after rinsing it out. I’ll wash that and the stuff I use for lunch after I finish eating. I dumped the box of uncooked noodles into the now boiling water. Soon, the macaroni was ready to be eaten, so I poured the cheesy noodles into a bowl. Hoisting myself onto the granite countertop, I began to inhale the food. Wow, okay I was hungrier than I thought. It didn’t take long to finish off the noodles. As I was washing the dirty dishes, the intercom system of the apartment went off. Weird, I wasn’t expecting anyone. “Who is it?” I inquired into the speaker box. “Hi, I’m looking for the inhabitant of this flat.”

My brows furrowing, I asked again, “Who is this?”

“Ma’am, please don’t waste my time or yours. Is this the woman who lives in this apartment, yes or no?” They sounded exhausted. “I need to speak with the woman who lives here.” I was shocked, this didn’t seem right. Alright, I’m a woman living alone in an apartment building. Some stranger comes to my building, asking to speak to me, so what do I do?

“Uh, yeah they’re not here. You’ll have to come back later.” The lie was easy. Safety first and all, right? There was no reply after waiting a few minutes, so I went back to doing my dishes. After drying and putting them away, I kicked my shoes off and settled into my couch with a fluffy blue throw. Flicking the TV on, I picked the home improvement channel. I stretched out on the couch while wondering how realtor Bessie May was going to find this couple the perfect home. Snuggling further into the pillows, I was able to drift off into a dreamless slumber.

*********************************

It was loud banging that eventually roused me. Untangling myself from the fluff that wrapped around my legs, I toppled onto the floor. “I’m coming, hold your horses!” I shouted at the door. Who the hell? I swear if it’s my crazy neighbor again. “Marge! If this is you, we are going to have a problem!” I huffed my way to the door and yanked it open to reveal a group of men in what looked like dark tactical gear. Confusion overtook my facial features. I took a step back and tightened my grip on my door knob.

“Um… hi? Can I help you?” I questioned the group at large.

“Ma’am, we’re looking for the permanent resident of this apartment.” The man to my left said. He was short and stocky, he was also the only man wearing a dark gray suit. “Are you the permanent resident of this unit?” He continued while trying to see over my shoulders and into the living room.

“No, they’re not here right now.” I repeated the lie from earlier. I had an inkling this had to do with that, what else could it be?

“Well, do you know when she’ll be back?” He pressed, still stealing glances into my abode.

“No, she didn’t say. You’ll have to come back later. Goodbye.” I stated while closing the door. I was almost home free until a combat boot clad foot was stuck into the door frame.

“You see ma’am, this really isn’t the time to be lying to me.” The suited man explained. I took a deep breath and continued trying to close the door.

“Well, I’ve already told you all I know. The person who owns this place isn’t here right now.” The door was stopped yet again by the same foot.

“Ma’am, you need to invite us inside. We have things to discuss.” Suits ordered.

My brows raised, “Or what?” I scoffed, “Look you need to leave before I call the police. Good day to you gentlemen.” Another attempt to close the door was once again defeated, but this time the door swung in. Allowing entrance into my apartment. My eyes widened and I rushed away from the door, putting as much distance between the group of men and myself.

“What the hell are you doing! I’m calling the police.” I reached for my phone that was laying on the coffee table. It was snatched away from me by a man in tactical gear. His hair was cropped and dark, he slipped my phone into one of the many pockets of his vest. I raised my eyebrows at the man, and began demanding my phone from him.

“Listen ma’am, we’re going to need you to come with us.” Suits insisted. My gaze darted to him, if looks could kill man. “We’re allowing you the privilege of getting a bag of your necessities.” I took a deep breath, trying to calm my ever rising nerves. I brought the heels of my palms to my eyes, trying to clear the fogginess of sleep to process what Suits was saying. “We don’t have all day. Get your stuff now.” I shook my head and started refusing.

“Yeah, that won’t be happening. I’m asking you one last time to leave my apartment before I start screaming.” I crossed my arms over my chest in a protective stance. They’ve got five seconds before I raise hell. Suits made a face that looked like he was disappointed.

“Grab her.” The man who took my phone advanced at me. His whole hand covered my upper arm, lifting it and beginning to drag me to the door. I started kicking out, clawing, trying to make contact with anything that I could hurt. Damage, don’t stop fighting. Don’t give in. Whipping my upper body around, I managed to scratch the man's cheek. He cried out in pain and his grip loosened for just a moment. Long enough for me to wrench my arm away from him and run towards the front door. My path was interrupted by a wall of a man. Towering over me, he wrapped both of his arms around my torso. Effectively stopping all of my movement while he turned me in his grasp to face Suits once again.

“Help! Someone help me! Help me!” This was a quiet enough building, shouts like that would surely gain someone’s attention, right? “Help! Someone help me, please!” I was screaming my throat sore. Not stopping until there was a large hand placed over my mouth. Even then, there were muffled cries that could be heard throughout my otherwise silent apartment unit. Stifled sobs were leaving my lungs in heaves. Suits approached me and shook his head,

“It really didn’t have to be like this but, of course.” He turned to one of his goons and nodded his head towards me. I began screaming again as the final goon stepped forward. His hair was slicked back and I could smell the hair gel that he must have just dipped his head into. Hair Gel reached into his pocket and brought out a small white case.

He unzipped the case and gestured to the mass of a man behind me. My head was moved to expose my neck, I struggled against Mass while Hair Gel approached. Screaming and thrashing trying to disrupt what I thought was about to happen. Hair Gel assembled a syringe, outfitting it with a blue capped needle. Hair Gel extracted a clear liquid into the syringe, he got closer to my jolting body, glaring at Mass.

“Hold her still, you buffoon.” He grunted at Mass. The grip around me began cutting off my circulation to the lower half of my body. Not deterring me in any way, I still made it as hard as I could for Hair Gel. There was a pinch on the side of my neck, and then a warm feeling passed through my body. Mass’s hand was still covering my mouth and his arms around my torso, if it weren’t for that I probably would’ve fallen straight to the ground. Oh hell man, what am I going to do now?

My body went limp in Mass’s hold, and my mind was starting to become fuzzy. Looking around at the three men in front of me, I worried what was going to happen. I’ve seen Taken. I know what happens to girls who travel alone. That kind of stuff doesn’t happen to people like me. Suits sighed yet again, looking disinterested in the whole affair. Suits looked to the man who I scratched and shook his head at him.

“You seriously let her get her hands on you?” Suits mocked, “That’s pathetic, Gomez.”

“Pathetic? She was clawing me, man!” The man, Gomez, defended.

“It doesn’t matter, you idiot. You still aren’t supposed to let it happen.” Suits berated Gomez and then waved him off, “Go get the stuff. And don’t mess it up this time, ya got that?” Gomez rolled his eyes at Suits, but nodded anyway. He left the room towards my bedroom. My eyelids started drooping, I willed them to stay open a bit longer.

“How long’s it gonna take that stuff to kick in?” Suits asked Hair Gel.

“Oh, it starts working immediately.” Hair Gel finished replacing everything in his white case, turning to me, he continued, “The body reacts to the compound right away, inducing temporary paralysis. It’s really quite remarkable to watch it in action.”

Suits glanced at Hair Gel, “You mean to tell me it doesn’t make them unconscious? What the hell did I bring you along for?”

“Of course it makes the victim unconscious, what do you think I’m stupid or something? It just takes a couple of minutes for the enzyme to break down for the brain.” Hair Gel tilted his head while looking at me. He gave me a once over and if I had any kind of control over my body, there would’ve been an unmistakable shiver that passed through my body. Gomez emerged with a duffle in tow and dumped the closed bag on the couch.

“Don’t forget the laptop, Gomez.” Suits reminded him while his attention was on the kitchen of my apartment. “Alright, let’s go.” With the effort it takes to lift a feather, Mass carried me bridal style out of my unit. My eyelids were becoming even more heavy and I screamed and shouted in my head, but my mouth just wouldn’t move. The four men made their way out, passing my crazy neighbor Marge.

“Can I help you boys with something?” Marge’s door was open, and she leaned up against the frame, watching this scene go down.

“Nothing to be worried about ma’am. This is official government business.” Suits reported, simply shrugging off Marge.

“Government business?” Marge shrieked, and a glimmer of hope flashed in my head. Marge won’t fall for your bullshit Suits. She’s going to save me. “I always knew there was something off about that one.” What the hell, Marge?

“Like I said ma’am, nothing to worry about. Now if you would, just go back inside. We’re done here.” Suits advised. Marge, who was none the wiser, bounced her shoulders and turned back into her own unit. She could be heard through the door explaining to her guests that her next door neighbor was always strange and never really sat right with her.

“Doesn’t surprise me they’re taking her away. I always knew something was off about that girl. I told you so.” Marge howled with laughter after her statement. My last hope dashed by my crazy neighbor’s complete ignorance and lack of acknowledgement for her surroundings. Mass began his descent of the stairs with a steady pace. The constant rocking back and forth of his body weight served to lull my eyelids the rest of the way closed.

#bucky x reader #eventual bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #james buchanan barnes #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #sebastian stan #bucky fanfic #female reader insert #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes

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hood-ex · 4 years ago

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Can you give any pointers for fanfiction writing? It's something I've considered trying, but I've never done creative writing and it's a bit intimidating. I'm mostly interested in writing Nightwing, and maybe having other characters (Batfam and Titans) but still always having Dick as the center.

Welcome to Fanfiction 101! I’m here to keep you from making the same mistakes I’ve made in the past.

Pre-Writing Process

There are some people who enjoy outlining the shit out of their story, and then there are people like me who just kinda make the story up as they go. Whatever you decide to do, try to at least have an ending planned out. That way while you’re writing, you can start to craft the pieces you need to get to the ending you have imagined. You can even work backward and plan your story out from end to beginning.

For example, let’s say I want my ending to be Dick and Damian hugging in a hospital. Okay, what pieces do I need to get to that point? Well, if they’re in a hospital then one of them needs to be hurt. Who do I want to hurt? Let’s go with Dick because I want this story to show how much Damian cares about Dick.

Great. Now how does Damian find out that Dick is hurt/how does he save Dick? Let’s say Damian is in the cave when the batcomputer gets an alert from Nightwing’s suit. The alert shows that Dick’s vitals have gone haywire. Damian panics, tracks down Dick’s location, and then both him and Alfie take the flying batmobile to save Dick. They find Dick and take him to the hospital.

Cool but how does Dick get hurt in the first place? Hmm, well, Dick usually always rides a motorcycle, right? So let’s say Dick gets into a motorcycle accident. How does he crash his bike? Maybe it’s because of the weather or because a baddie crashes into him. I don’t want to write a huge action scene so let’s say Dick accidentally drives over black ice, spins out, and crashes in a ditch.

And there you have it. A whole story right there from end to beginning. You can plan things out in a more detailed way before you jump in and write if you want. A basic outline like that ^ is usually enough for me to go off of. The details just come to me while I’m in the process of writing. Try and see what works best for you.

One-Shots vs. Multi-Chapter Stories

If you haven’t done a lot of creative writing, I would suggest you start off by practicing with one-shots. Now, one-shots can be shorter content, but on the flip side, there’s also one-shots that are like 50k words. Totally depends on what the author is willing to put into it in terms of plot, description, character development, etc.

I personally have a hard time finding the motivation to finish multi-chapter stories, which is why I usually stick to one-shots. Short one-shots can be easier because they don’t have to be super fleshed out. The action is quick, the dialogue is impactful, and the scene is memorable.

You can also just jump into the action when it comes to one-shots. You don’t have to do as much build-up. For example, I could jump right into a scene of Dick having trouble breathing like this:

Dick’s having a hard time making sense of things. Vaguely, he can hear Bruce shouting for Alfred. He can feel hands on him. His vision is going in and out. Then, suddenly, there’s silence. Dick wakes up, confused. Tim is sitting at his bedside, holding his hand. Bruce is close by, and when he realizes Dick is awake, he immediately goes over to him. Bruce explains that Dick had a bad reaction to a drug he was injected with. Bruce cards his hand through Dick’s hair to comfort him, and Dick reflects on when Bruce used to do the same thing when Dick was a kid.

End scene.

Okay, so, obviously a real story would have way more description than that, but you get what I’m saying, yeah? That whole scene could be the entire story and it would be enough. But if you have the motivation to do way more than that with a ton of character development and what not, you totally could prolong that one-shot into 50k words. Or just break everything up into a multi-chapter fic.

The problem with writing one chapter at a time for a multi-chapter fic is that it’s hard to keep the motivation to keep writing each chapter. You write one chapter and then put the story to the side for a few days, and suddenly, you keep making excuses about why you don’t want to write the next chapter. To be fair, this can also happen with a basic one-shot, but yeah, tis the life of a writer. Don’t be discouraged if it happens to you. Trust me, it will at some point.

Character POV

Listen, I love writing in first person. In other fandoms, I used to write a lot of my stories in first person POV. I’ve got some bad news for you, though. Generally, people don’t like to read fanfics that are in first person POV. They just don’t. Nowadays, even I tend to skip over stories that are written in first person POV.

Third person POV is going to be your best friend. Get comfortable writing it.

Admittedly, sometimes it’s easier for me to grasp a character’s voice if I first write the story in first person POV. I then go back and change all the “I’s” and “me’s” to he, his, her, hers, etc. That’s just a little trick I do sometimes if I’m having a hard time getting a story started.

Characterization

If you’re not 100% sure how to write a specific character, try and figure out a few facts about them. Like if you want to write Dick then think about some key qualities of his. Sprinkle those traits throughout the story to make the character sound more authentic.

For example, I know Dick doesn’t like cucumber sandwiches. Sometimes I’ll have him or other characters mention this in the story. I also know Dick can struggle with perfectionism. I can make that something he has to struggle with in the story. It doesn’t have to be what the whole story revolves around, but if I just throw in some things here and there about how Dick is mad at himself for failing about something then that makes him feel more in character.

Character Interactions

At first, writing multiple characters interacting at once can be really difficult. It can fuck up the pacing of your story, it can be hard to insert each character enough to make sure they aren’t ignored, and it can be hard to make sure each character is getting a chance to speak.

If you find yourself struggling with this, try and just stick to two characters at first. Once you’re comfortable writing a conversation between them, try adding in another character. And another. And another.

The more you practice, the more you’ll be able to write multiple characters interacting in a scene in a way that feels more natural and realistic.

Genres and Tropes

When it comes to figuring out what you want to write about, you need to know what kind of content your audience wants. For example, fantasy niches (fairies, vampires, etc.) can be harder to “sell” in this particular fandom. There are people like myself who enjoy those niches, but just know that they may not be the most popular niches within this specific fandom.

What are some niches that the majority of fandoms do like? Hurt/comfort, sick fics, whump, fluff. Those kinds of fics are always in demand. People love it when their favs get hurt. People love it when other characters worry about their favs. People love it when their favs get hurt while protecting others. People love it when their favs are getting along and being affectionate with one another.

Go on AO3 and sort the fics in this fandom by “most comments” or “most kudos.” Now look at the most popular fics that come up and look at the tags they use. See what kinds of things those authors are writing about. Read their summaries and try to get an idea of what the stories are about.

Once you get an idea of which kind of genres and tropes are most popular, try and write a story that includes those genres/tropes. People will be more likely to read stories that have tropes they usually like to read about.

Now, of course, you can also just write whatever the hell you want without trying to appeal to your audience. This is what I do a lot of the time. Turns out that the things I like to write about tend to fall more in line with the tropes that are already popular in this fandom.

Spelling and Grammar

People really hate to read stories that have tons and tons of spelling and grammar mistakes. Make sure before you post anything, you put your story in Word or Grammarly (I use the free version) to check for spelling, grammar, and punctuation mistakes. Trust me, your readers will thank you for it.

Practice, Practice, Practice

I’ve been writing creative stories since I was 11 years old. The stories I wrote back then are absolutely shit compared to the stories I write now. So please don’t get discouraged if you write a story and you don’t feel like it’s very good.

Keep trying! Just like with anything else, the more you do it, the better you’ll be at it. There are so many things you’ll learn as you continue to write. Seriously, just recently, I realized I wasn’t always putting a comma in my compound sentences to break up the independent clauses. But hey, hey, now I know.

Pacing, characterization, and plot are also things that will improve the more you write. Writing drabbles (stories with maybe just a few hundred words) will help with this. It will help you learn to choose the most important scene or dialogue and write it in an impactful, emotional, and compelling way.

Okay, class is dismissed! If you have any other questions then feel free to send me another ask!

#writing #writing advice #fanfics #batfam

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taexual · 5 years ago

Text

i’d love you to stay but that’s simply insane // JJK (2)

jungkook is an uncontrollable lead vocalist of the campus band, and you’re a goal-oriented top student that’s known his rich and complicated family since childhood. you don’t want anything to do with each other, until each other is exactly what you want to do.

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

genre: college au

warnings: sassy!jungkook vs sassy!MC, mentions of drunk driving

words: 5.2k

chapter two

The hospitals were usually glum and even off-putting and yet when you showed up to pay Jungkook an obligatory visit the next day after the party – because for reasons beyond you, you felt like you had to see him at least once to make sure he really was okay even though the paramedics that pulled him out of the totaled car had already told you he’d be fine – it felt like you were on set of a medical drama.

The entire hallway where Jungkook’s hospital room was located was full of people who weren’t there to visit but rather to make sure that the sole heir of JJ Holdings was not disturbed or, God forbid, photographed. The tabloids were already speculating what had to have happened to him to make him crash his car so close to his own house, and, frankly, there weren’t a lot of answers that made sense.

And yet, despite that, Jungkook’s family fought their hardest and denied every accusation, claiming that their beloved son, their youngest family member, could never drive under the influence and that it was, really, the horrible weather conditions to blame.

It had been a clear night – albeit a little windy – but you knew better than to get involved in this.

You had assumed that this situation had to have set Jungkook’s family on edge but then his mother enveloped you in a warm hug as soon as she saw you, so maybe not. You’d always liked her – it was Jungkook’s father that intimidated you – so you didn’t mind the fact that you hadn’t seen her since you went off to college three years ago.

“It’s so sweet of you to come,” she said kindly, but she seemed surprised to learn that you knew of her son’s accident.

It took you a while to understand why that was – as it turned out, in the wild chaos that erupted when Jungkook was brought to the hospital, no one bothered to ask who had called the ambulance. And it didn’t really matter anyway, you supposed. Maybe you shouldn’t have even come.

“It’s nothing,” you said with a polite smile. “How is he?”

“Oh, he’s alright,” she said and, just like with Jungkook last night when you’d asked him how his mom was doing, her answer was automatic. He could have been in a grave condition and she’d have still smiled and said that her son was doing just fine.

His family was constantly playing a role for other people. Most of the time, they acted like they walked on paths covered entirely in rose petals, and that nothing could ever inconvenience them.

It was painful to see that she felt the need to keep the act around you too, but, then again, your mother was now the only one that was still in touch with Jungkook’s family, so that made you an outsider.

“Can I see him?” you asked, starting to feel more awkward by the second. “I brought some comfort food. Even though I don’t know if he even likes this anymore—”

“He’ll really appreciate it,” his mother cut you off and, maybe it was just wishful thinking on your part, but it sounded like she meant it. “His dad is there with him right now but it’s been a while, so you can probably go in there, too. Maybe they both fell asleep.”

You doubted that very much – the Jungkook you used to know never lowered his guard around his father, at least not enough to fall asleep in his presence – but you swallowed whatever objections you may have had and simply nodded.

“Okay, thank you,” you said and walked past her towards Jungkook’s hospital room.

You had to round a corner to reach it and, as soon as you did, you felt yourself exhale in relief. You’d forgotten what it was like to be around Jungkook’s family. Constantly participating in their game of we-are-a-perfect-family-please-oh-please-believe-us was exhausting.

You were about to knock on the door, the chocolates you’d brought for Jungkook clutched tightly in your hand – you felt stupid to have brought them now because, really, what were the odds that he still liked the same candy as he did when he was 12? – when you heard talking inside and stopped short.

Clearly, Jungkook and his father were very much awake and, by the sound of it, currently in the middle of a very heated discussion (because the Jeon family never argued, they just talked louder than usual sometimes).

“I’m tired,” his father was saying. You debated if you should walk away or just wait it out in case their exchange was coming to an end. “I’m sick of this, you hear me? How many times have you tried to sabotage everything we’ve worked for? How many times—”

Inhaling sharply, you pulled away from the door and leaned against the opposite wall instead. You hoped you couldn’t hear them from over there but, unfortunately – or, perhaps, luckily – you still could. And, before you even considered returning to Jungkook’s mother to wait with her, you were already too curious to move.

Yes, you were the cat, and you knew you were about to get killed. But, oh, the satisfaction!

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook said quietly inside of the hospital room and you could almost see the shame all over his face. He had never lived up to his father’s expectations but this seemed to be the last straw.

“Listen to what I say because I am not going to repeat myself,” his father said as a nurse walked past you and you had to pull your phone out to pretend that you weren’t being nosy. “You can forget all about the company – hell, you can forget all about your own future if you keep going like this.”

“Dad—”

“You’re still so young but it’s like you’re purposefully looking for a tragic end of your life,” Jungkook’s father continued, not letting his son interject, “you’ve been acting like a completely brainless idiot ever since you started high school and, you know what, now it’s time you stopped. You’re in college now and I’m done watching you destroy yourself and our legacy.”

“I’m an adult,” Jungkook said, sounding very much like a child, “you can’t tell me how to live my life.”

His father laughed and you could have shivered if you weren’t so busy pretending not to be listening as nurses and doctors coursed back and forth in the hallway.

“You’re also my son,” he said then and it would have been a very nice gesture if he stopped there. But he didn’t. “And the heir to our family’s company. What you do is a reflection of us, and your latest stunt will certainly paint us in the most beautiful colors. So, you can think you’re the only one responsible for your life all you want, but the truth is, you’ll always be tied to the rest of us.”

“Right,” Jungkook lost the previous restraints he had, “so, what? Will you have me drop out of college so you can supervise my every move, starting now?”

“Absolutely not,” his father replied. “You went to university to learn how to run a business, to gain leadership skills, to learn how to be a proper grown-up. You might be an heir, but that doesn’t mean you’ll get to sit back and relax while money falls from the trees around you.”

“I know that,” Jungkook said and you knew he meant it. His parents had taught him to work hard since day one – surely not a lot of toddlers learned how to read even before they stopped using the potty.

“You don’t know anything. Don’t embarrass me by saying you do,” his father countered. “You haven’t put any actual work towards your future. You’ve got that band of yours, which is all good, there’s nothing wrong with having a hobby—”

“It’s not—”

“—but if that’s the reason why you’re in this situation right now,” his father continued, not even hearing Jungkook object, “then maybe it’d be better if you focused on your studies instead. Otherwise, I don’t see the point why you should join the company this summer.”

It was quiet for a while after that and you thought they finished talking. You even put your phone away, ready to head down the hallway and act like you just got here, but then Jungkook spoke up again.

“The things that I do in college,” he said slowly, “will not interfere with my job at the company.”

“You can forget that job – and any other job, actually – if you don’t pull yourself together,” his father said.

“Well, what should I do, then?” Jungkook asked. “What do I have to do to prove to you that I don’t need to pull anything together because I’m fine? It’s just that you--”

“Admitting that you’re not fine would be the first step.”

“I-I’m serious,” he said, sounding a little more discouraged now. “What should I do?”

“Well, you’re an adult,” his father said, using his own words against him. “Why don’t you figure that out yourself?”

The room fell silent again and, a few moments later, you heard footsteps approaching the door of Jungkook’s hospital room. Jumping away from the wall, you jogged down the opposite hallway and only turned around when you heard the door open. But Jungkook’s father left the room and walked away without bothering to even glance your way.

When he disappeared behind the corner, you stopped behind Jungkook’s open door, not daring to enter just yet. You felt even less confident about being here now that you’d overheard his conversation with his father but you only had yourself to blame for that – you could have walked away as soon as you realized they were still talking.

The saying should have mentioned that curiosity may not have necessarily killed the cat, but it certainly made it feel very uncomfortable.

Taking a deep breath, you braced yourself and gave the door of his room a gentle knock before poking your head inside. Jungkook was laying down, his eyes fixed on the ceiling, but he lifted himself up on his elbows when he saw you.

“Wow,” he said and a smile crept up to his bruised face, “you’re the last person I expected to see here.”

If you hadn’t just witnessed the fiery scolding he’d received from his father, you would have never been able to tell that something happened. Acting must have been in his blood as he continued to smile while you entered the room and closed the door.

You had to admit, he looked much better today – excluding the saline drip next to his bed, the fresh stitches on his forehead, and the several cuts and bruises scattered all over his face, of course – but that had to be due to the fact that his face was no longer stained with fresh blood.

“I felt like I had to come since I was the one who called the ambulance and then refused to ride with you to the hospital,” you explained yourself.

“Thanks,” Jungkook said, teasing. “I appreciate that.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you’d expected this reaction, “it was already awkward enough to talk to you after so long, I didn’t think we were close enough for a ride in the ambulance together.”

“But we’re close enough for you to visit me in the hospital?”

“Like I said, I felt bad.”

“You should,” he said with ease. “I could have died.”

You rolled your eyes. “Your injuries weren’t that bad. The car took the brunt of it.”

“How do you know that?”

You asked the paramedics, that’s how – although, that was a massive understatement. What you really did was cry and beg them to tell you if Jungkook was alive – you even pulled on the sleeves of their jackets like a child, demanding attention – but you’d never admit it out loud.

In your defense, Jungkook’s entire face was bloody when the paramedics pulled him out of the car – courtesy of the nasty cut on the upper corner of his forehead that the doctors have stitched up now – and he was unconscious so, really, your reaction was completely rational, all things considered.

“I asked before they took you away, of course,” you responded simply. “I’m not heartless.”

“Well, that’s good to know, then,” he said. “And, for what it’s worth, I would have definitely taken the ambulance with you if our situations were reversed.”

“It’s not worth anything because there’s no way our situations would ever be reversed. I’m smart enough not to drive when I’m drunk,” you said and he was the one to roll his eyes this time, “and, anyway, you had your members in the ambulance with you. It would have been suffocating with me there, too.”

He didn’t respond but kept his eyes on you and the same awkwardness you’d felt in the hallway outside of his hospital room returned.

You couldn’t seem to find a place to settle in – there was only one chair in the room and it had his jacket laying across it; you didn’t dare move it – so you stood still, switching your weight between one leg to the next, while his eyes burned into you.

“I… I brought you something,” you finally managed to say – mostly because the chocolates in your hands were now in danger of melting due to how hard your palms were sweating. “It’s not—”

You had extended your hand to put the candy on the cupboard next to his bed and, as soon as he noticed them, he didn’t even wait for you to finish.

“You remembered!” his cry reminded you of the nine-year-old Jungkook who’d stuff his face with these chocolates until he couldn’t even breathe anymore. You stopped and turned to look at him in surprise. “Oh, man, I haven’t had these in so long. Where did you even find them?”

“I know a store,” you said with a soft smile. You put the candy down and took a step back, feeling even more out of place now that your hands were empty. “I—”

“Well, sit, have one,” he encouraged, leaning out of bed to pick his jacket up from the chair, and tossing it on the floor instead. The catheter in his hand must have strained his skin as he did that but Jungkook didn’t let it show. “Mind you, I said one. I’m selfishly saving the rest of them for myself because I am barely getting fed here.”

You chuckled. “That’s okay, you can have all of them. Is the hospital food really that bad?”

“Oh, don’t get me started,” he groaned, unwrapping the candy and putting it in his mouth while you sat down on the now empty chair.

He closed his eyes as soon as the chocolate touched his tongue, leaning back and sighing blissfully – but just loudly enough so you’d know how much he had missed the taste – in a way that made you look down and swallow heavily, your nails digging into the soft material of the chair.

“This is heaven,” he spoke up after a moment and you didn’t dare to tell him that it wasn’t the candy that was heavenly but rather the sight of him enjoying it so much. “It completely makes up for you abandoning me when I was dying.”

You groaned but Jungkook saw the small smile that managed to make its way to your lips. “You weren’t dying. Why are you being so dramatic?”

“Because I need pity,” he confessed, making it all sound like a joke even though you had a feeling there was more than just a pinch of truth in his words. “None of my friends came to see me. Looks like I really fucked up this time, huh?”

That surprised you. “What do you mean? They went with you when they took you to the hospital.”

“No, I don’t mean my members,” he shook his head, “they were here this morning but I made them go home and clean. I meant my other friends.”

“Oh,” you looked down, unsure if you were in any position to comfort him. “Maybe they’re busy?”

“Please,” he scoffed, unwrapping another chocolate, “it’s Saturday. They may be hungover but they’re definitely not busy.”

“Well, in that case,” you said, “maybe they’re not really your friends.”

“Yeah, I came to that conclusion, too,” he said, toying with the candy instead of putting it in his mouth. Bits of chocolate stuck to his warm fingertips and he licked them off before turning to look at you only to catch you watching him. You looked away when your eyes met, though, so you didn’t get to see the pleased grin that appeared on his face. “So, what are you up to? I thought your schedule was full until graduation?”

You smiled, recalling your words at his party.

“Your drunk-driving incident made me push some things around,” you played along, not missing the chance to scold him. Jungkook just rolled his eyes and popped the chocolate into his mouth. “So, you should consider yourself special.”

“I definitely do,” he said, putting the wrappers down on the cupboard next to his bed. “It’s weird to see you like this. I don’t mean here, but just… not in a hurry, you know? I thought you had classes every day of the week, weekends included.”

You had no idea he ever gave your schedule any thought – and hearing that he did made your stomach twist in ways you’d rather it didn’t – so you weren’t prepared for this. Taking your silence as uncomfortable, Jungkook tried to ease into the conversation differently.

“Are you still thinking of owning your own business?” he asked.

He remembered that and suddenly it was like your stomach had decided to tear itself into two.

“Sure,” you said with an awkward chuckle. “It’s definitely still one of the few things I’d like to do after graduation.”

“Good,” Jungkook said simply and, thus, reminded you of how long it’s been since you had last talked. Usually, whenever the topic would turn to you, wanting to own a business of your own, he’d always say, ‘you’re so bossy, so it would suit you.’ Now, however, he added a very considerate, “I know you’ll get to do it. You’re the kind of person that makes her dreams come true.”

Lowering your eyes – because you’d found that praise was hard to accept when it came from someone you were close to but it was even harder when it came from someone whom you used to be close to – you mumbled, “thanks.”

“It’s just the truth,” Jungkook replied with a shrug of his shoulders – it was an attempt to make you feel less awkward. He could see the way your whole body tensed up as soon as he mentioned how weird it was to see you.

“So, what about you?” you asked, turning the spotlight away from yourself. “Do you still want to be a worldwide famous superstar?”

He laughed, his childhood dream sounding ridiculous now. “No. I’m fine where I am right now.”

You smiled but your mind returned to the conversation you’d overheard before you came here.

Slowly, so as not to pour salt on an undoubtedly fresh wound, you asked, “what about the, uh, family company?”

Jungkook sighed. Not because he was angry at you for asking this question, but rather because it was a very natural question to ask, so – naturally – everyone around him always brought it up.

“What about it?” he asked you.

“Well, it’s a family business,” you shrugged, not wanting to put any extra pressure on him. “Your parents were always sort of prepping you for it.”

“Yeah,” he wasn’t looking at you anymore as his eyes settled on the corner of his hospital room. “They’re changing their minds about that.”

Feeling like you were committing a crime by sitting here and acting like you hadn’t just heard him talk to his dad about this, you proceeded nevertheless.

“What do you mean?” you asked.

“I mean… well, my mom definitely wants me to take over the business one day,” he said and, just like you remembered, his voice softened when he spoke about her, “she’s constantly talking about how proud of me she is – but you know my mom,” he paused to give you a knowing look and waited until you nodded before he continued, “she always had a lot of love to give so she wanted to have a lot of kids and, after that didn’t work out, she focused all of her love on me.”

“Yes, go ahead and blame your mother as the reason why you’re spoiled,” you teased.

“It’s the truth!” he insisted with an unexpected smile. “Anyway, she always wanted me to work in the company and—”

“What about you?” you cut him off.

Already lost in whatever he was going to say to you, Jungkook didn’t catch your question. “Hmm?”

“What do you want?” you asked again.

“I…” he considered this for a moment, not quite used to being asked about his own wishes when he lived in a family that essentially decided everything for him, “I guess I just don’t want to let her down,” he said finally. “My dad, however… he—well, let’s just say he doesn’t really think I’d make a suitable employee, let alone a CEO.”

Unable to resist it, you bit, “hmm, I wonder what could have lead him to feel that way.”

“I know, I know, there’s no need to sound so condescending,” he rolled his eyes – in that same bratty way that you remembered; no one could ever tell this boy anything without him getting offended – and then sighed. “I haven’t been the ideal son.”

It was hard not to allow your memories to overwhelm you – because of how many times you’d been in this same position before: finding Jungkook cooped away somewhere after an argument with his father and trying to cheer him up with his favorite chocolates – but you tried to focus on the present.

“I’m sure you’re trying your best,” you ended up telling him because that was something you were supposed to tell someone who was having a hard time.

Jungkook chuckled at the optimistic statement.

“Not really,” he said then, “I’m not trying at all. I’ve just been doing whatever I want to do and, I don’t know, I guess I wasn’t really thinking of the consequences. Or, rather, I didn’t care about them because—well, because I was satisfied with my life,” he continued to talk and you were starting to feel your pulse in your throat because it’s been seven years – seven fucking years – since you’ve heard him confess something so personal and it was almost suffocating, “but then my dad—oh, you should have heard him today. It was one of the more severe variations of the Jeon Concerto in A Major.”

The comparison got you to smile despite the seriousness of the conversation. “It was that bad?”

“Worse,” Jungkook assured you. “He kept going at it for hours. Actually, he left, like, two minutes before you came in, so my head is still sort of pounding.”

You knew that, of course, but you didn’t say so.

“Are you sure it’s not from the hangover?” you asked instead.

He took the jab with dignity, smiling as he nodded, “that, too.”

Gathering his thoughts for a moment – as he played with the frayed edges of the hospital blanket – Jungkook stayed silent and, when he started to speak again, his voice made it clear how desperately he was trying to make light of a situation that had clearly wounded him much more than the accident last night had.

“My dad, uh—he told me to suck it up and get my shit together,” he said. “And that’s almost a direct quote, by the way. I think he’s been holding it in for a while now and today he just exploded.”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t given him reasons to yell at you before,” you said.

“Oh, no I’ve given him plenty of reasons,” Jungkook said, “you know he’s not one to refuse a good yell. I just didn’t give him any opportunities,” he stopped and, just when you began to frown in confusion, he explained himself, “I… I moved out of my parents’ house in my junior year of high school and I’ve only been home a handful of times since then.”

It hurt to hear that for some reason. You hadn’t heard much about him ever since he stopped talking to you in the ninth grade but you figured that was just your mom filtering out any information about Jungkook that she learned from his mom. You had no idea that it was really because Jungkook was deliberately distancing himself from his whole family, not just from you.

It hurt because you were once best friends and then you went seven years without speaking to one another only to end up talking again in a hospital room.

It hurt because of how easily the two of you returned to your natural rhythm, how simply you recognized each other’s facial expressions, how normal this felt.

“What about your mom?” you asked in a croaked voice. Your throat was closing up and there was no concealing that. “Doesn’t she miss you?”

If Jungkook noticed the ball in your throat, he didn’t make it known.

“She probably does but she’s never said anything. I think she understands that I had no other choice,” he said instead. “I’d have gone insane in that house with my dad. You know we never spoke the same language.”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “but maybe it’s because neither one of you ever tried to understand the other.”

“Maybe,” he sighed, laying back down on the bed and shuffling around under the blanket until he got comfortable, “probably.”

“That’s a good place to start, isn’t it?” you said, your tone far too hopeful and optimistic – all because you were trying to refrain from getting emotional. “To get your life together, I mean.”

“What?” he turned his head on the pillow so he could face you. You looked down immediately. “You mean, listen to my dad and obey him blindly?”

“No—well, not necessarily. Just… talk to your parents more,” you shrugged, “find a way to communicate with them both and let them know what’s going on in your life. I think you really hurt them by disappearing on them like that and then resurfacing again in the hospital.”

You lied. You didn’t think. You were sure. Because he didn’t just hurt them, he hurt you, too.

Your first conversation in seven years ended with him drunkenly crashing his car into a tree trunk – or was it a lamp post that he didn’t notice? – and now you had to clutch the seat of the chair you were sitting on with all of your might so you wouldn’t start crying. You couldn’t even understand why your eyes were getting watery but they were and you really needed him to look away.

“Hmm, I—I didn’t really think of it like that,” Jungkook admitted and – mercifully – looked back up at the ceiling.

Sniffling as quietly as you could, you added another teasing dig, “maybe also consider drinking less.”

“Yeah, no, funnily enough, I figured I’d have to do that myself,” he replied and you snickered, only daring to look up again when you were sure your tears, that had rushed to the surface, finally receded.

“Good to know you do have a functioning brain despite making it seem like you didn’t last night,” you told him – because you had to – and he glared at you instead of replying, but he did hear what you were saying. He understood.

You wanted to properly lecture him about his reckless behavior but right now you weren’t in the best position to explain your aggressive need for him to start thinking before he acted – and, technically, you had no reason to care about him that much, anyway – so, you took a deep breath, blinked several times to make sure you really weren’t going to start crying, and then started to speak.

“I hope that… uh, no matter what you decide to do and however you choose to handle this thing with your parents,” you swallowed and the words were unexpectedly hard to say, “I hope that you don’t get behind the wheel of a car while drunk again.”

Jungkook looked at you for a long time before speaking and you lost yourself in his eyes like you had done countless of times before. And how could you not when you were faced with his already legendary gaze; the one that controlled entire crowds at Parental Advisory gigs?

You couldn’t see your reflection so you didn’t know, but Jungkook had noticed the redness of your eyes. He noticed the slight puffiness that appeared on your cheeks. He’s seen you cry before, he knew all the signs.

But he was also aware of the gap in your friendship and the tightrope that the two of you were walking over it – he didn’t dare to bring your crying up and risk throwing both of you down into the pit of not-talking again.

“I won’t,” he said instead, his voice gentle. “I promise.”

As he said this, you realized that, perhaps the reason why you felt like crying was because you knew that the second you’d walk out of his hospital room, the two of you would go back to your seven-year-long silence.

Even though you’d had no problems reconnecting today, it was just one day. It would end tomorrow and, eventually, the connection that you’d had and the friendship that you’d developed as kids, would turn into a distant memory. You’d return to your world and he’d return to his and, even though you both lived on the same campus, you might as well have lived on two different planets.

But, even though that hurt, perhaps it was for the best. It was painfully pointless to carry hopes of a restored friendship when it was almost doomed to end eventually. He’d stopped talking to you once, he could do it once more.

So, you wanted to cry now and then put this weekend-from-hell behind you, so you wouldn’t have to cry later, after losing Jungkook again.

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