#and ur like . WELL I LIKED BLUE EVEN BEFORE I MET YOU!!! ITS MY COLOR!!!

[mcdonaldsnumberone]

minnasan hear me out

[leisureflame]

"I CANT THINK"

If you write, I assure you you have thought that.

Fear no more child, for I have found a solution.

it's called Rapid writing

something we learned when I was in 9th grade drama class and I cannot emphasize enough just how effective it is. Its actually what gave me the idea for my first book.

Stop what you are doing and do what I tell you

go grab either a pencil and paper (or open an empty document)

set a timer for 2 minutes

ask a friend to give you a random sentence. I have a few examples that I myself rapid wrote to: a) I looked around and saw b) the old lady hung from the ceiling and laughed c) purple paint dripped from her long purple fingernails d) there is a hole in my ceiling. e) when I am sad I... f) When you close the door, I... g) there is a wooden door with a gold doorknob

Now the most important thing is not to think of this sentence before you start writing. as soon as you decide which one if you are choosing from my examples (or as soon as you hear it if you are getting if from a friend), start the timer.

start writing the sentence and without hesitating just keep writing. the #1 rule here is to not stop or hesitate for a single second until the 2 minutes are over. you can write nonsense if you want and if you REALLY can't continue then write some random words for a couple of seconds then continue AS LONG AS YOU ARE STILL WRITING.

another rule is that you are not allowed to delete. even if its a spelling error, just ignore it.

after the timer is done, I promise you will have something to work with. now copy the paragraph you wrote and paste it below, here you can start fixing spelling errors and adding things at your own pace because now the creative side of your brain has opened.

don't think about the way you are writing or the words you use, think about the story you are telling. the idea.

Sometimes you will get something beautiful and deep like I did here:

When I am sad I go to my blanket, not many people know about it, all they think is happening is that a child likes to cuddle in a blanket, but no. my blanket has a special thing about it, it is a magical blanket, well, not the blanket itself but the embroidery on the blanket, it simply takes my sadness away but it adds the story of my emotions to the embroidery, my blanket is a very pretty one, it is a pastel blue color and it has so much silk embroideries that you just think its patterns, but it isn't, if you look deeper you will find stories every one of those stories came from someones tears... my tears. whenever i cry, i wipe my tears with my blanket and my pain goes but my story stays.

or

there is a wooden door with a gold doorknob on the door there is a painting of you, and there are many locks on the door from top to bottom, when you open the door, there is a mirror. this door is the door to self discovery, from the outside there is a painting of how people think you look like but when you open the door, you get to see what you really are in detail and look at yourself they way you want to, you can smile or cry and the refection on the mirror will change but on the painting, it doesn't show ur emotions, just how people see you usually.

or you can get something so stupid like i did here:

there is a hole in the ceiling in my classroom. everyday a dinosaur would a pear and eat my lunch and i keep coming home hungry but my mom dsays she packed me enough food. so she didn't feed me. i told her a dinasour was eating my lunch but she said that disasours only live in Norway! so i went into the school vents looking for that idino and revenge my food, we met at last, held our weapons, i was holding a subway sandwich and the dino was holding a bana na MY BANANA  i lost it, so i attacked him one hit on the head and the whole species were extinct , people thousand of years from now said dinos got extinct because of a meteorite but i know better, also i am still alive because whoever kills a dino becomes immortal, also i killed my mom for not believing me and let her starve in her grave just like she let made me starve. and then i killed everyone who was a flat earther because i hate them and now i can kill anyone once i tap them with my super subway sandwich 

(by the way, ignore the horrible spelling, the examples i gave were from the unedited version.)

THE POINT IS ITS ACTUALLY SO HELPFUL. you can use it for a new story idea (i used the blanket one as an element in one of my WIPs and it helped the story a lot) or if you get something stupid like the dino one I wrote THATS GOOD THATS FINE because now you have your creativity going.

I challenge you to actually try this and PLEASE share it with me I LOVE reading other peoples rapid writings. have fun <3

tagging @cosmosandcapybaras24 @ajsbookshelf @gloryofdawn, @chaoticharmony93 @deception-united and anyone else who's interested to try this out and share with me!

[stevie-petey]

episode four: the body

For the second time within a week, Steve Harrington almost kills you with his stupid BMW. Granted, the first time wasn’t necessarily his fault due to your crying, but this time just felt personal.  “Hey! Henderson!” “Jesus christ-” You’re biking to the Wheeler’s, lost in thought as the sun begins to set, when stupid Harrington scares the shit out of you.  His unexpected shouting causes you to swerve your bike towards his car and he has to slam on his brakes to avoid hitting you.  “Do you, like, have a fantasy about me hitting you with my car?”

summary: you basically have a "no babe don't cry over ur dead brother ur so sexy" moment with jonathan, hopper plays mr love doctor (cute date idea: coffin shopping), and somehow nancy wheeler makes you realize that you're a horrible babysitter and an even bigger idiot. meanwhile: steve harrington is frustratingly charming.

rating: general but plenty of cursing as usual.

warnings: cursing, fem!reader, and use of y/n.

words: 8k

before you swing in: hello ! happy eve of a spending time with loved ones, however ya choose to celebrate or not celebrate and all that jazz. i hope y'all are well and doing okay :) a LOT happens in this chapter, so buckle up. so many feelings and revelations my god. also this chapter is one i really loved writing purely because i got to explore more of steve and reader so ,,, ya welcome ! (hopefully i was able to clear up jonathans thoughts and how he processes, i really want it to come across as someone hurt and overwhelmed rather than just him being cranky lmao). anyways, enjoy !!

-

It’s a quiet morning.

You roll over, the sunlight streaming through your curtains, and for a moment you forget. It’s a blissful moment, sweet naivety that strokes your cheek and coaxes your eyes open. As you throw your arms over your head and stretch, last night’s events haven’t caught up to you quite yet. 

Then you feel Jonathan’s body next to yours and for a moment you’re confused. He never sleeps in your bed whenever he spends the night, being ever the gentleman. No matter how many times you offer, he always insists on respecting your mother’s wishes and sleeping on the giant beanbag chair within your room, and it always makes your heart warm. 

Your mother had specifically bought the beanbag for Jonathan when you were thirteen. He had been spending more and more nights at your home, sneaking in through your window to avoid his parents fighting. At first he would simply fall asleep on your carpet, despite your many reassurances that he could sleep in your bed, so when your mom unexpectedly barged into your room one morning and saw him lying face down on the ground, she freaked. 

Once you had explained everything to her (with Jonathan’s permission), she had shoved you guys into her car, dropped him off at his house, and then found the beanbag at a garage sale for $10. 

“This way, he’ll have a place to sleep that’s soft and cozy, away from my young daughter,” she had said during the drive home. You had covered your face in embarrassment at her implication, but you were also incredibly proud to call her your mom at that moment. She may be overbearing at times, but she was the kindest woman you’ve ever met. 

You rub your eyes and glance at the bean bag that sits between your bed and wall, its dusty blue color almost glowing in the early morning light. Then you glance at Jonathan, who has woken up before you, and notice the redness in his eyes and the dark circles now darker than ever. 

Then it all comes rushing back to you. 

Will’s body in the quarry. 

Holding your brother as he mourned his friend. 

El, so quiet and shy and sweet, running away after your cruel dismissal. 

Jonathan showing up to your window hours later, broken and devastated. 

Then, late into the night, the two of you falling asleep, side by side in your bed, both needing each other more than ever before. 

The two of you get ready without saying anything. You hand Jonathan some spare clothes of his that you keep in a drawer before giving him some space as you go and take a shower. You spend longer than usual getting ready, but you pay no attention to the clock. There’s no way you’re going to school today. You’re not leaving Jonathan alone for even a second. 

Jonathan finishes getting ready before you do and waits in your room. Neither of you have said anything yet, last night being too fresh in your memories, but words aren’t needed between the two of you. 

You take his hand and lead him into your kitchen and wordlessly hand him a banana. He stares at you, and you stare back, silently challenging him to decline the food. He needs to eat. You’ve noticed how thin he’s gotten with everything happening. 

He sighs, knowing he won’t win this fight, and takes a bite out of the banana in a mocking manner, but you’re just relieved he’s eating. 

You grab your own breakfast before writing a note for your mom, informing her that you’ll be with Jonathan today and promising to make up any missed assignments as soon as you can. Then you quietly go into Dustin’s room to check up on him, but his bed is empty. You glance at his alarm clock and note the early hour, he doesn’t normally leave for school for another thirty minutes, which makes you frown. 

Where the hell did the kid run off to?

An uneasy feeling settles over you, but you don’t have time to question anything. Knowing Dustin, he ran off to school earlier than usual to see his friends and distract himself from last night. While your mom offered you both to stay home for the rest of the week due to Will’s death, neither of you have ever been good at staying put and dealing with your emotions.

Wherever your brother is, you know he needs his space.

Once everything is settled, you join Jonathan in his car and drive to his place. While he never explicitly asked you to this morning, you know that you’re going to his house with him to help him deal with his mother and the funeral preparations. 

He doesn’t have to ask, and you don’t have to tell him that you’ll help. 

You both just know. 

About halfway to his place, Jonathan finally speaks. 

“The cops say that Will crashed his bike and fell into the quarry,”

“Jonathan, we don’t have to talk about it right now-”

“My mom doesn’t believe that he’s dead. She-she insists that he’s in the walls, that he can speak through-through… Christmas lights.”

His voice shakes as he speaks, and you can’t tell if it’s due to grief or anger. 

“Will is dead and my mom chooses to believe that there’s some monster in our walls that took him.”

“A monster?” you think about El and her powers and the fear on the boys’ faces when she pulled out the Demogorgon piece. Then you remember the other night at the Byers’ home when Joyce came running outside as the lights were flickering wildly. Her fear had been genuine. 

“A fucking monster that’s hiding in our walls. She wouldn’t… she wouldn’t listen, Y/N. I tried talking to her, to calm her down, but she just…” His words fade off, and he clenches his jaw as tightens his hands around the steering wheel. 

You’re not sure what to say. It’s a tough situation, a fucking heartbreaking one, and it’s all so unfair. Jonathan needs his mom, but his mom needs Will. 

You rest your hand behind his head and allow your fingers to rub circles against his skin. He leans into your touch, and for now this is all you can do. 

The state of the Byers’ home has only gotten worse since the last time you were there. There’s now letters painted on the wall and string lights placed all throughout the house. There’s also clothes in random corners and trash thrown around. 

Jonathan had been staying in this house alone, watching his mother spiral. Your stomach twists with guilt. 

You should’ve been there more for him, but instead you allowed your petty need to help everyone distract you from what’s important. 

Joyce is passed out on the couch with an ax clutched between her hands, which breaks your heart even more. Jonathan walks over to wake her up and you give the two of them some privacy as you head into the kitchen to make Joyce some breakfast. 

Their fridge is barren, but you aren’t surprised. You make do with the few eggs you find and get to work; it isn’t much, but it’ll have to do. As you prepare breakfast, you notice a stack of Will’s drawings on the kitchen table, which causes you to gag with remorse. 

There’s still so much of Will within these walls, his entire childhood still locked inside, untouched, and yet the house lacks his presence. 

He’s gone. 

– 

You wait with Hopper in the morgue waiting room, nervously tapping your foot and frantically trying to distract yourself with a comic. The words blur together in your head and the images float around. You can’t focus on anything. For once, Spidey’s quips and banter can’t distract you from reality. 

Not only are you incredibly worried for Joyce and Jonathan, but the thought of Will’s body being a wall away from you sends chills down your spine. You can’t imagine what’s happening behind the doors, and you’re secretly relieved that you’ll never know. 

“What’s taking so long?” Hopper’s voice breaks you from your thoughts.

You put your comic down and listen, figuring that it’s best if you’re caught up on everything so that you can store away any useful information for later. 

The front desk lady sighs. “Well, everything’s been a bit chaotic around here without Gary.”

This catches Hopper’s attention. “Without Gary?”

“I thought you knew. Those men from State, they… they sent Gary home last night.”

Now this catches your attention. Why would the State replace the town’s coroner? 

“So who did the autopsy?” 

“Someone from State.” 

Hopper looks at you, almost as if to ask if you’re also hearing this, and you give him a slight nod. It’s odd, really damn odd. 

“Why would they send someone for a little boy?” You ask Hopper, but he only shakes his head in response. 

In the back of your mind, you think about what El had warned you of. The bad men, the people she has to hide from… it didn’t make sense at the time, but now…

Your thoughts are cut off as Jonathan runs out the door, his hand over his mouth, and you immediately get up to help him outside. He throws up against the wall outside, and you wince at the smell. You’ve never been good with people getting sick, but Jonathan needs you right now, so you rub soothing circles on his back as he throws up. Once he’s done, you head back inside and wait for Joyce. 

You offer Jonathan a tissue before coaxing him to rest his head on your shoulder. Having nothing else to do, yet urgently wanting to help, you begin to read him some panels from your comic. He doesn’t say anything, so you take it as a sign to keep going. Your voice is hoarse from all your crying, but you read aloud anyways. 

Hopper watches your interaction with a small interest. You don’t notice his curious eyes and the way they seem to glint with sincerity. In his eyes, the two of you will get together soon enough. 

After a couple minutes, Hopper finally asks Jonathan how Joyce is holding up. The boy straightens up, but grabs your hand to steady himself, and responds as best as he can. He explains the lights, the letters on the wall, everything. 

“She’s had anxiety problems in the past, but this…? I don’t know.” He takes a shaky breath, and you draw reassuring patterns on the back of his hand. “I’m worried it could be… god, I don’t know.”

“She’s grieving,” you remind him, and he nods. 

“Yeah, she’s grieving, but she’ll be okay. We’ll be okay; my mom, she’s tough.”

“Like Spider-Man,” you say, though you don’t really mean to. You’re tired and the words just slip out, but Jonathan begins to laugh. 

“Yeah, like Spider-Man, you’re right. Thanks, bug.” 

“Anytime, bee.” 

Jonathan smiles at you, still softly laughing, and it’s then that you realize. He hasn’t laughed in days, he’s hardly even smiled, and yet here he is, smiling at the stupid nickname you gave him and laughing at the stupid joke you didn’t even mean to say; you realize you’d do anything to get him to laugh again, to give you that smile that he’s only ever reserved for you. He squeezes your hand and his eyes shine for a moment with a familiar warmness that has always made you weak. 

It hits you like a cold, cruel wave on a harsh winter day. 

You’re in love with Jonathan. 

Fuck.

It’s horrible timing, and you feel sick with guilt for realizing that you love your best friend merely hours after his brother has died, but now it’s all you can think about. 

You love him, you love him more than you’ve ever loved anything before, but you can’t tell him. It wouldn’t be fair, and you don’t have the time. 

You’re thankful when Hopper begins to talk again, reiterating that Joyce is tough, so that you have the time to process your newfound feelings. 

Then Joyce comes crashing through the door, screaming about how whatever is in the other room isn’t Will, ignoring everyone who tells her to calm down. Both you and Jonathan stand up to calm her down, your comic dropping to the ground in the process, but she doesn’t listen and instead runs outside. 

“Mom!” Jonathan follows after her. 

You sigh and tuck your hair behind your ears before picking up the comic. You know that Jonathan needs to be alone with Joyce right now, give them some privacy, it’s a personal matter. More personal than anything else, and yet you also selfishly don’t want to be near him for a few moments so you can collect yourself as well. 

As you’re gathering your things, Hopper clears his throat. 

“Do you love him?”

You freeze, having not expected such a personal question. You’ve only just realized your feelings for him, how the hell has Hopper already figured it out? “What does it matter? His brother is dead and his mom is losing it.”

Hopper rubs his hand over his face, giving you a warning look. “But do you love the kid?”

It’s the way he says it, like it means life or death, that has you respond, “I do.”

“Take care of him, then.” He looks you in the eyes as he says it, urging you to understand the weight of his words, and you do. 

You’ve heard about how his daughter had died and his wife divorced him soon after. They’d only ever been rumors to you, but now you know that they’re true. He’s telling you to take care of Jonathan, that your love for him means that you have to take care of him in a way that no one else can. 

In a way, you suppose that you and Hopper aren’t so different after all, and you gain a new sense of respect for the man. 

You swallow deeply and nod at him before excusing yourself to follow after Jonathan and Joyce. 

– 

The mother and son in question are a few blocks down the street, Joyce waving her son away as he follows her with the car. 

You sigh. 

This day definitely sucks. 

Running up to them is a pain in the ass, honestly. You get that you gave them some privacy, but damn. Did Jonathan seriously have to take the car as well? 

When you finally catch up, he’s parking. “Hey, what are you-” 

He doesn’t spare you a glance as he turns the engine off and runs after his mom. 

“Seriously?” You groan, clutching at a stitch in your side from running. Usually you’re a great runner, actually choosing to go for a run whenever you’re particularly stressed out or anxious. However with the shitshow that this week has been, you haven’t gone on your morning run in a while and you’re starting to feel the effects of being out of practice. 

Joyce, being surprisingly fast, is hard to catch up with, but you do your best as Jonathan sprints ahead of you. When he finally reaches her, he grabs at her jacket with a determined look in his eyes. 

You hang back, now regretting the fact that you left the coroner’s office in the first place. 

“Mom, stop!” 

“Just go home, Jonathan.”

“No, this is not an okay time for you to shut down.”

“Shut down… what-” The confusion in Joyce’s eyes is enough to make you feel Jonathan’s frustration as well. You feel for the woman, you really do, but she has another son to worry about. Jonathan is still here, he’s lost his own baby brother, he needs his mom now more than ever.

But Joyce, too lost in her own grief and desperation, can’t see that. 

“We have to deal with this, mom. We have to deal with the funeral!” You’ve never heard Jonathan raise his voice at his mom before, but after days of begging for her attention, you’re proud of him for defending himself.

The word “funeral” seems to snap Joyce out of her daze and once again she goes on her tangent about how Will’s body isn’t really back at the morgue, that he’s still alive, and Jonathan’s anger in his voice makes you ache. 

As he and his mom continue to yell at one another, a few nosy people in the town area stand and watch. They whisper to each other, no doubt about how Will’s death has made Joyce Byers crazy, and you kick a few rocks at them. 

“Fuck off! At least pretend that you aren’t a bunch of nosy assholes like most decent people do.” A woman sneers at you, but you wave your arms above your head, “Oh! Scary! Get fucked!” 

Eventually they do as they’re told and walk away from the screaming mother and son, which pleases you. 

You really hope that random lady wasn’t a patron of Bookstrordinary though. 

“Yeah, well, while you’re talking to the lights, Y/N and I will be planning a funeral for Will!” Jonathan’s voice is laced with bitterness as he screams at his mother, breaking your heart even more. “I’m not letting him sit in that freezer another day!” 

Joyce storms off, but you notice that her shoulders shake with tears as she leaves. 

It’s such a devastating situation, and while you’re also frustrated with the way she’s been treating Jonathan, you also know that maybe her craziness isn’t exactly “crazy”. El is still out there, even if you’re not sure where, and you think about how she was able to control the comic book and the game pieces. The static electricity you felt in the air when she used her powers, the same static you felt at the Byers’ home a few nights ago when Joyce came running outside with the lights flashing and Will’s song playing on the radio.

But then you think about how El promised that Will was alive. 

He isn’t; you see his dead body every time you close your eyes. 

So really, what is there to believe?

Lost in thought, you don’t notice Jonathan walking towards you until he grasps at your arm and flings you along back to the car with him. He’s breathing heavily and you notice that he’s shaking. He’s in no condition to drive. 

As you near the car you quickly reach around and grab his keys from his pocket before running over to the driver’s side and throwing yourself into the seat. Jonathan hates when you drive the car, not because you’re a bad driver, but because some part of him truly believes it’s impolite to make a girl drive. 

As cute as you think his chivalry is, today you couldn’t give more of a damn. 

Jonathan stands outside your door. “Y/N-”

“Nope, no time to argue, Byers. Get in.” 

“But-” 

“In.”

He does as he’s told, albeit with some attitude, but eventually the two of you are off. Without having to ask, you drive to the local funeral home. While you and Jonathan are similar in many ways, the one thing that pulls you together is planning. You both cling onto the stability that planning provides, and right now Jonathan is clinging onto his responsibilities for Will’s funeral.

Like he told his mom earlier, you and him have a funeral to plan. 

The funeral home is closer to the edge of Hawkins, so the drive is a longer one. Along the way Jonathan slowly begins to calm down, untensing his shoulders and releasing his clenched jaw. You let him take all the time he needs, thankful that for now you have some time to yourself to reflect over today’s revelation.

You love Jonathan. 

Those three words are heavy within your chest, and you almost don’t want to think about them, but you know that sooner or later you’ll have to. You glance at Jonathan, the late fall sun casts a warm glow on his face that for a brief moment brings back the boy you knew only a week ago, before everything changed. Then he turns to face you and you see the red in his eyes, his cheeks sunken in, and you know that you don’t have the time to unravel whatever you feel for him. 

He needs his best friend right now.

Jonathan’s voice breaks you from your thoughts, his voice cracking a bit from disuse. “Can we talk about yesterday?” 

You cast him a quick glance. “Yesterday?”

“Our… our fight, I guess.” 

“Oh,” you shift your hands on the steering wheel, now suddenly painfully aware of the silence within the car. “We don’t have to right now, bee. We should be focusing on the funeral arrangements.” 

Your voice catches on the word “funeral”, it still hasn’t sunk in yet that Will is really gone. 

“Bug, for the past eighteen hours all I’ve been thinking about is Will,” he takes a shaky breath and you gently place a hand on his, encouraging him to keep talking, “but when I’m not thinking about him… I’m thinking about you and what-what you said yesterday.” 

“I said a lot yesterday-” 

Jonathan gives you a pleading look. “Please just let me get this out, okay?”

You purse your lips but remain silent. 

“I will never, ever deserve you. This week and my actions have proven that. This isn’t some pathetic attempt to make you pity me, I was an asshole to you and I recognize that. You love people in a way that terrifies me, Y/N. You’re my best friend and I think I would actually die if I ever lost you.”

A snort escapes your lips, “you probably would.”

“I definitely would, but this isn’t about me. I’m so, so sorry for how I’ve been treating you lately and the fact that you’re driving me to a funeral home after watching my mom have a meltdown in the town square without even batting an eye is all the more proof that you’re too good for me.” 

“I wouldn’t say too good, but yeah. Close enough.”

“It’s more than enough, bug. That’s what terrifies me: I’m afraid that I’ll never be able to repay you for all that you’ve done for me, even before Will disappeared; you’ve been taking care of me since we were twelve.”

His words hang in the air as you allow them to wash over you. There’s so much you want to disagree with, namely the fact that he doesn't deserve you, but you know that he wouldn’t want to hear your arguments. 

Again you think about how similar the two of you are, and while you both give your all to the people that you love, your love comes freely while Jonathan has grown up believing that it comes with conditions. It’s never been a problem in your relationship until now, but you guess with how much you’ve been overcompensating for everything, the need to return it all has caught up with him. 

Finally, you speak. “You feel that you can’t accept my help because I’ve already done enough for you. Is that it?”

“Yeah,” Jonathan takes a deep breath. “I know it’s stupid, especially because I’m asking for your help right now with the funeral preparations, but…”

“I understand, but we’ll get through it,” you pull into the funeral home parking lot and turn the car off. “We always do, right?” 

“Right,” Jonathan’s smile is a weak one, but you accept it nonetheless. 

“Now, you ready to go look at children’s coffins like real men and women do?” 

He laughs at your poor attempt at a joke, but even he can admit that objectively the entire situation is morbid. “Only real best friends go coffin shopping together.” 

“My thoughts exactly, good sir.” Then, before you forget, you reach over and whack Jonathan’s head with the back of your hand. 

“Ow! What was that for?”

You shrug your shoulders, “ask Nancy.”

And with that, you unbuckle your seatbelt and head into the funeral home, trusting that Jonathan will follow eventually enough. Things aren’t exactly the same between the two of you, especially with your newfound feelings for him, but it’s a start. 

“I deserved that,” you hear Jonathan grumble, which makes you smile. 

You’ll take whatever you can get.

– 

You spot Nancy before Jonathan does. 

It wasn’t intentional, really, but the funeral home director was droning on and on about the different wood selections for coffins and finishes that you can customize and it all makes you want to throw up; the coffins before you are so small, you weren't really paying attention in the first place. 

She stands in the doorway and motions for you to get Jonathan’s attention, who is deeply focused on everything the old man is saying. A part of you wants to ignore the girl, but the scared look on her face tells you that this is something serious. 

You nudge your shoulder against Jonathan’s and point at Nancy; he excuses the two of you as you walk towards her. 

Jonathan shoves his hands in his pockets, a bit guarded. “Hey,”

“Hey, your mom, um�� said you’d be here.” 

“You talked to Mrs. Byers?” You ask, feeling a sudden possessiveness over the woman. Sure, you were kind of okay sharing Jonathan with Nancy so long as she was with Harrington, but Joyce? She’s like a second mother to you.

It made you uneasy that Joyce even talked to her in the first place. 

Nancy tilts her head at you. “Yeah, it was only for a brief moment though. She seemed pretty… distracted.” 

“No shit. Her son died, Nancy.” 

The girl flinches a bit at your tone, which causes Jonathan to yank at your sleeve and shove you behind him. “Ignore her, we’ve had… Well, it’s been a long day.” 

You feel your shoulders drop and unclench your fists. “Sorry, is everything okay? Is it the boys?”

“No, they’re fine, I just,” Nancy’s eyes shoot towards you, uncertain, before directing them towards Jonathan. “Can we talk for a second?”

The photos Nancy shows you makes your blood run cold. They start with Barb sitting alone by the pool, but slowly she pulls out more and more pieces of the torn picture to create a terrifying image with a shadow-like figure looming over her friend. 

Jonathan tries to sum the shadow up to lens distortion, but you know that he’s wrong. Nancy asks more questions, trying to figure out exactly what has happened to Barb, but all you can think about is El. 

You check the time on your watch and curse. It’s late afternoon now, you’ve been gone with Jonathan since early this morning. Dustin hadn’t been in his room when you left and you stupidly assumed that he’d gone off to school. Now, seeing the picture of Barb and that thing… Something is so goddamn wrong. 

“The cops think that she ran away,” Nancy says. 

“Just like they did with Will,” you’re whispering more to yourself than to them, but Jonathan hears you anyway. 

“Maybe she did run away-” 

Nancy shakes her head. “No, she wouldn’t do that. They don’t know Barb. When I went back to Steve’s… I thought I saw something.”

Your head shoots up. “Nancy, what did you see?”

“Some weird man,” the urgence in your voice confuses the girl, but you silently push her to keep talking, “or… I don’t know what it was.”

Both you and Jonathan are quiet afterwards for very different reasons. 

He’s quiet because he probably thinks Nancy is crazy, just like his mom. 

You’re quiet because you’re currently afraid you’ve accidentally left your idiotic brother and his friends and El alone with very real monsters and possible bad men. The figure Nancy saw… El being terrified of bad people finding and hurting her…

Well shit. 

“I’m sorry, I-I shouldn’t have come here today-”

You stop Nancy from leaving. “No, you should stay… I think,” you look at Jonathan, nervous for how he may react to what you’re about to say. “I think I might have an idea of what you saw last night. A lot has happened since Will disappeared, things that I’m still trying to understand, but I think I know where to start finding an explanation.” 

Jonathan turns to you. “What? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Technically I did try telling you a few nights ago but then you yelled at me and threw a jacket at my face-” 

“You threw a jacket at Y/N?” Nancy asks, which you and Jonathan ignore. 

“But for now I can’t tell you anything else. I made a promise, and I’m not sure I’m right or even sane for considering it an explanation, but we need to leave. Now.”

“A promise? To who?” There’s an edge of hurt in Jonathan’s voice and you desperately wish you could explain more to him, but now isn’t the time. Not with Nancy sitting between you two and her own brother involved. You don’t want to cause any unnecessary worry for her; right now she needs to focus on Barb. You’ll wrangle in the boys, it’s your fault they’re even alone right now with El.

“I can’t exactly say who, but just trust me, okay? Again: I really hope I’m just insane and worried about nothing and that this will all be an embarrassing laugh for us later.”

“Y/N-”

“Jonathan, we need to go.” 

“‘We’?” Nancy now speaks up, seemingly fed up by your vague exchange with Jonathan.

You try to collect yourself and pretend like you have some amazing plan. “Yes, we. Jonathan will take you to the photo developing room at school and see if you can make the pictures clearer. On the way there, he’ll drop me off at home so I can grab my bike and head out.”

“And what will you be doing?” The boy asks.

“Tracking down my brother, unfortunately.” 

He gives you a doubtful look. “C’mon, you can’t expect me to just let you run off on your own without more of an explanation.” 

You know he’s right, but you just… you can’t tell him about El and the bad men yet. You can’t. Not until you know for sure what the hell is happening. 

“I’m sure it’s nothing… but just in case, I really need to find Dustin, okay?” 

I’m a really, really bad babysitter, you think. 

Jonathan opens his mouth again as if to argue, but you hold your hand up to silence him. You really don’t want to waste time fighting with him. He has to trust you on this, whether he likes it or not. 

He sighs with defeat, “Just be safe, please.”

You also really don’t want to put anyone else in danger. It’s bad enough that you allowed the boys to get dragged into this mess, but you refuse to drag your best friend in as well. But really, who knows? Maybe you’re just a regular idiot who believes in fairy tales and monsters, not some idiot who leaves three overly naive boys alone with a girl with superpowers. 

God you hope you’re just a regular idiot. 

However, if Joyce believes that Will is alive, even without the knowledge of El and her powers, then you’re sure that the boys also believe he’s alive and will inevitably go looking for him again. Alone. In the same woods Nancy saw that strange figure. 

You cast those thoughts out of your head and give Jonathan what you hope is a reassuring smile. “When am I not safe?”

You really, truly hope that you’re just an idiot, but if the photos that you just saw scare you. Before he can change his mind, you quickly reach over and snatch Jonathan’s keys from his jacket and give him a peck on the cheek before running out to his car.

“I call shotgun, Nancy!”

– 

Unsurprisingly, the drive with Nancy and Jonathan is an awkward one. Things are still a bit tense between you and him for reasons you’re not sure you can tell him about just yet, and now Nancy is in the backseat trying not to make any sound, so really it was a doomed car ride from the start. 

It’s not that you don’t like the girl, but there’s something about the way she acts around Jonathan that honestly makes you want to collapse. You know she’s with Harrington, but the tenderness Jonathan has shown her the few times they’ve interacted makes you uneasy. 

Yesterday you chalked the uneasiness to simply never sharing Jonathan before, but now you know the truth. 

You’re jealous because you’re in love with him. 

It’s a nauseating feeling. 

“So, how long have the two of you been friends?” Nancy’s question surprises you, mostly because she should already know the answer. You know she’s just trying to make conversation, but the question itself further reminds you of why the two of you had drifted apart in the first place. 

“I moved here when I was twelve, remember? Your family helped us move in.” 

“Oh, right. Sorry,” You see Nancy nervously playing with her fingers in the rearview mirror, which makes you feel bad. She’s trying, you know she is. 

“It’s fine,” you try to catch her eye, and when you do you give her a smile. “I know you probably don’t remember much from that day. It was the middle of the school year and our brothers immediately started being annoying together, so you had gone inside after only a couple minutes.” 

Nancy laughs, now remembering that day. “Didn’t Mike hold an initiation for Dustin that night?” 

“Yeah,” you laugh with her now. “That’s actually how Jonathan and I met. Remember, bee?” 

Jonathan’s smile is a soft one, a smile that makes you feel weak because you know you’re the reason it’s there. “Of course I do. We both showed up at the Wheeler’s house at the same time to pick up our brothers.” 

“And then-” 

“I answered the door.” Nancy finishes for you. 

“Yup. Ever since then, Jonathan hasn’t been able to get rid of me.” 

“It’s been horrible,” he says with a monotone voice, but it’s clear to everyone that he’s joking. 

You punch his shoulder. “You weren’t complaining when I saved you from those bullies later that week.” 

Jonathan gives you a pointed look and tries to subtly motion towards Nancy, clearly embarrassed that you've brought the bullies up in front of her. Like he wants her to think he’s someone cooler than he really is. 

Your smile vanishes. 

He wants to impress her. 

“Right, sorry,” you clear your throat and if Nancy notices your sudden mood change, she doesn’t say anything. You squeeze your eyes shut for a moment and remind yourself that what matters right now are the boys and El. They should be your priority, not petty boy drama. 

Luckily Jonathan pulls into your driveway not long after the abrupt conversation ending, which you’re thankful for. 

You unbuckle your seatbelt and turn to face Nancy, and it takes everything in you to force a smile on your face. “Alright, well, this is my stop! Nancy, I’m trusting you to tell me whatever you and Jonathan find. I’d ask him to keep me updated, but I know he’ll inevitably forget.”

The girl nods at you. “You can trust me.” 

Can I?

Although you’re not exactly sure what it is that you don’t think you can trust her with. Then, your eyes drift to Jonathan and the way he’s staring at her from his own mirror, and you realize that maybe she’s not the one you should be worried about. 

“Good,” you turn to Jonathan now. “I’ll call you later, okay?”

“And I’ll answer… probably.” 

“You’re so sweet to me.”

“I know, right?” 

You snort at the boy and wave goodbye to him and Nancy before getting out of the car. Your bike is in the shed, so you motion to Jonathan that he’s good to leave. When he’s sure you’re okay, he waves at you one last time and drives away. 

It feels like you’ve made a huge mistake as you watch Jonathan and Nancy leave, but you don’t have time to think about why. Dustin’s bike isn’t in the shed alongside yours, which you expected, and you have to find him. 

Your brother and his idiotic friends need you right now. 

– 

For the second time within a week, Steve Harrington almost kills you with his stupid BMW. Granted, the first time wasn’t necessarily his fault due to your crying, but this time just felt personal. 

“Henderson!”

“Jesus christ-” You’re biking to the Wheeler’s, lost in thought as the sun begins to set, when stupid Harrington scares the shit out of you. 

His unexpected shouting from the other side of the road causes you to swerve your bike towards his car and he has to slam on his brakes to avoid hitting you. 

“Do you, like, have a fantasy about me hitting you with my car?” 

You glare at the boy. “You are a man, I am a woman. It’s getting dark outside. What exactly made you think it’s a good idea to yell out at me?”

“Well, I mean, I called after you.” He says, so matter of factly that it makes you want to strangle him. 

You hate him. You really do.

A strand of hair has fallen in your face, so you blow it away before bothering to answer. “My apologies, you called after me and almost killed me in the process.”

Steve winks at you. “Apology accepted.” 

You stare at him, unamused and still in the middle of the damn road, and after a couple beats of silence you cock your head at the boy. “Are you going to tell me what you need or…?”

“Oh,” Steve coughs, as if startled by your question. “Honestly I didn’t really have a plan when I called after you. I just kinda did, so…” 

“Right, well.” You clench your jaw in annoyance. Why are you even surprised that Harrington has wasted your time? “This was fun, let’s never do it again sometime!”

You ride off on your bike, trying to quickly get up the hill so that you can get to the Wheeler’s before it gets too dark to see. The hill is brutal and it’s almost embarrassing how long it’s taking you to get up it, and as you’re huffing and dripping in sweat, headlights come up from behind you. 

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” you groan. 

Steve’s car is now right next to you, the fucker having done a complete u-turn to follow after you. His window is still rolled down and he has one hand on the steering wheel and the other hanging out his window. 

“Hello again, Henderson.” 

“I never said hello back to you.” 

“C’mon, at least pretend to be happy to see me.”

You let out another groan as you continue to struggle up the hill. “I physically cannot do that, sorry.” 

Steve, ever the comedian, responds, “It doesn’t seem like you can physically get up this hill either.” 

You don’t give him the satisfaction of laughing, but you’re a bit annoyed that his quip was funny. What a jackass, honestly. 

“Henderson,” your silence doesn’t deter the boy, “just get in the damn car already.”

Once again you almost crash into the BMW, this time because of your complete shock at his request.

“What?”

He gives you a look as if you’re the insane one in this situation. “You’re sweatier than I am after basketball, and at the rate you’re going I’d say you’ll reach your destination in about three to five business days.”

You stare at him, speechless. 

He stares back at you with a smirk on his smug little face, knowing that he’s won the argument. “Get in the car and I’ll throw your bike in the back.” 

You do as he says, your mind completely blank and still taken aback. Sweatier than him after basketball? There’s no way that’s true, and also who says that to someone they barely even know? As if you’re really that sweaty-

You see your reflection in his car mirror and wince. 

Okay, so maybe you’re a little sweaty. 

Fuck Steve Harrington. 

The boy in question tosses your bike in the trunk as you hesitantly get in the car. He watches as you sit yourself down and laughs. “It’s a car, Henderson. It won’t bite.” 

“Yeah, but you might.” You slap a hand over your mouth, embarrassed by the implications of your words. 

Steve raises an eyebrow at you as he turns the car back on. “Careful there, last I checked you’re a taken lady.”

The embarrassment you previously felt is gone, now replaced with your usual annoyance when it comes to Steve. You think about what he did yesterday to Jonathan’s camera, the cruelty in his eyes as he watched the thing shatter onto the ground. He didn’t show any remorse, and while you understand that he had been defending his girlfriend, he had taken it too far. 

“How many times do I have to tell you that Jonathan and I are just friends?” 

“Please,” Steve huffs with amusement, “the two of you have been inseparable for years. Besides, no way a guy like Byers can just be friends with a girl like you. Not scientifically possible.” 

You wrinkle your nose. “What’s ‘a girl like you’ supposed to mean?” Then another thought occurs to you, “Also, you didn’t even know my name until this week, so don’t go acting like you know my relationship with Jonathan.”

“Relax, Henderson. It was a compliment. All I meant is that you’re decently pretty, all things considered, so I wouldn’t blame Byers if he was in love with you. It’s human nature.”

“Okay, that’s just really sexist-”

“As for knowing your name only this week, you’re wrong.”

“I’m sorry?” You ask, confused. 

Steve places a hand over his chest, almost as if he’s reaching for his heart. “Apology accepted, it means a lot to me.”

“Ugh,” you scoff at him. “That wasn’t an apology and you know it. Can you just take me to the Wheeler’s, please?”

“Woah, slow down there. First I need you to tell me why you thought I didn’t know your name, then I’ll take you to my girlfriend’s house. Free of charge.” 

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think that you see some offense in Steve’s eyes for thinking he only recently learned your name, but why would he care? Besides, you know he’s never paid any attention to you before this week.

“It was literally this week that I had to tell you my name after you almost hit me with your car, Harrington.”

“Okay, hey,” the boy holds a finger up. “Actually, you almost hit me with your bike because you were too busy hysterically sobbing.”

He’s right, but you won’t tell him that. Minor details, honestly. You’re about to tell him as much before you realize what he’s said. “Wait, you knew I had been crying?”

Steve gives you a well, duh look. “Yeah, that’s why I pretended not to know your name. Figured you wouldn’t want to talk about it and the least I could do was make you laugh. And viola, I did.” 

He had willingly tried to make you laugh?

His words make you flush, which seems to only amuse him further as he chuckles at you. You wave your hand at him, now more annoyed than ever. “Okay, fine. Whatever, so you knew my name before this week, big whoop. Can you just drive now?”

“I’ll take that as an ‘I’m sorry Steve for assuming you’re an asshole who hadn’t noticed a girl you’ve known since you were thirteen’, then.” Steve takes the car out of park and begins to drive to the Wheeler’s which you’re relieved by. 

You feel uncomfortably warm after that conversation, regardless of the fact that you’re still overheated from your biking. There’s no way that Steve has seriously known about you since you were twelve and he was thirteen. No, you decide that he must be lying, playing up his usual boyish charm. He’s been this untouchable entity ever since you moved to Hawkins, so why would he have paid any attention to you?

Then your mind floats to his compliment, calling you “decently pretty”, but then again not even five minutes earlier he stated that you sweat more than he does after basketball, so really his words should mean nothing.  

And yet, after the week you’ve had and your fight with Jonathan and Will’s death and El’s mysterious powers… 

Steve’s words make you a bit giddy, embarrassingly enough. You hate that they do, because he’s Steve Harrington and he’s with Nancy who is beautiful and kind and everything you’re not. It doesn’t matter what he thinks of you. 

You pick at your nails as he drives, the car silent, and you accidentally graze against the cut on your finger from yesterday. It’s scabbed over by now, but the pain is still fresh. 

“I know that what Jonathan did was wrong, I won’t excuse his actions. Standing up for Nancy was the right thing to do and I admire you for it, really,” Steve spares you a glance as he drives, nodding his head slightly to indicate that he’s listening. “But breaking Jonathan’s camera wasn’t.” 

He groans. “Nancy said the same thing, but what’s the big deal? The creep shouldn’t have access to a camera if he can’t use it properly.”

The slight warmth that Steve had somehow put in your chest dissipates at his words. “Jonathan isn’t a creep, but regardless of the situation, the big deal is this: not everyone can afford a fancy BMW and Raybans. Not everyone in Hawkins lives in a giant mansion with a pool. He worked so hard to afford that camera, it’s not something that he can just buy again on a whim.” 

Steve shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “Henderson, you know I didn’t mean it like that-”

“I know, but it was still a shitty thing to do.”

The silence that settles in the car is a heavy one, and you almost feel bad for Steve. You know he hadn’t thought about the repercussions of his actions, but you suppose that the fact that he hadn’t considered the price of a camera was proof enough of his naivety. 

When you get to the Wheeler’s, Steve gets out of the car to help you with your bike. He doesn’t let you do a thing, so you stand there and awkwardly watch. You can tell that he’s trying to make up for his actions from yesterday, which you appreciate. 

“Thank you,” you say once he places the bike down. 

“All in a day’s work.” Steve responds, wiping his hands off on his jeans. 

As he turns to leave, you stop him. “And thank you for earlier this week, ya know, for making me laugh after falling off my bike. I, uh, appreciate it.” 

He seems surprised by your sincerity, but he smiles. “Again: all in a day’s work. And listen, I’m sorry about Byers’ camera,” Then he quickly adds, as if afraid he won’t have the nerve to later, “I’m sorry about Will, too. I figure you were close with him and now he’s…”

His words trail off, not wanting to say the word “dead”, which you can’t blame him for. 

“For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re a bad person.” Steve turns to face you now, your words catching his undivided attention. “You just have the worst taste in friends, but when you aren’t around them… I guess you’re alright.” 

He laughs a bit, but there’s a certain emotion in his eyes that you can’t quite name; you have to stop yourself from leaning in closer to him. Suddenly the space between you feels too close and you take a step back, but as you move you feel Steve’s hand ruffle your hair. “I guess you’re ‘alright’ too, Henderson.” 

You watch as he leaves, standing in the Wheeler’s driveway for longer than necessary. You place your hand on your head and find yourself smiling, the warmth of his touch still faintly there.

-

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[panjakes]

I wanna doyoung smut! BACK STORY: you think he’s not attracted to your body in “that”way because of stretch marks on you hips. i love ur work!

I’m not really good at writing smut so if it’s bad I do apologize😭Minors DNI

Its been weird. You felt weird. As of late you felt as though your boyfriend of three years was no longer attracted to your body. It might have been in your head but it was just weird.

One day you were in the kitchen wearing a shirt and tight blue silk night gown. It hugged your curves in all the right places. Doyoung had been busy and you missed him and thought you two could have some fun when he arrived at your apartment.

Seeing as blue was his favorite color you thought you had him until when he stepped foot in front of you with a tired look on his face. He looked you up and down before kissing your forehead walking to your bedroom.

You stood there in confusion before shaking it off and blaming the fact that he was tired. The next day you tried the same thing and actually made progress.

You straddled him as you two made out. His hands light ran across your curves before he pulled away.

“What’s wrong? You okay?” You ask making him nod as his hands and arms fall on the side of him on the couch

“I’m fine Yn, just tired” he expresses

“Oh okay, uh well you should get some sleep then” you say climbing off him

“Nah let’s watch a movie until we fall asleep” he says making you nod.

He picks up the remote missing the way you clutch the throw blanket over your body as if you were hiding it from him.

A few days later you stopped you attempts and just blamed it on stress and insomnia. You had just came back from a jog and Doyoung was in kitchen cooking dinner

“Cooking? Don’t burn my house down” you joke making him laugh

“I won’t, I’m paying close attention “he says making you nod

You head over to the fridge to get water, bending over you looking over at Doyoung from your peripheral and he doesn’t even glitch like he’d usually do.

You wore a pair of black Nike spandex and a black sports bra to match.

“Hey babe hand me the butter please” he asks still not looking your way. You sigh handing him the stick of butter

He whispers a thank you as he continues with his task. You stood back lost in your thoughts.

This was really unusual for Doyoung. He always was touching you rather it was sexual or not. His hands were always touching you. Yet you hadn’t felt it in what felt like months.

Doyoung went to freshen up and you made plates. Soon enough Doyoung took a seat at your table and patiently waited on his plate.

You walk over to the table putting the plate in front of him making sure to push your breast in his face. He thanks you before digging in.

You sigh going to your bathroom to wash away all the dirt and sweat. As you washed your body you were in deep thought about the same thing. Maybe it was all in your head.

You boiled everything down to Doyoung being stressed and tired from working so much. You push every doubt to the back of your mind and got out. As you tried to dry off your body you accidentally drop your towel

As soon as it hit the floor Doyoung opened the door with a surprised expression. He gasp and rushes out the door causing you to frown.

Did he just run from you?

You pick up the towel walking out the bathroom with tears in your eyes. You were met with Doyoung’s back

“Kim Doyoung!” You say causing him to turn around

“Yes? What’s wrong?” He asks

“What’s wrong? What’s wrong?! Am I real that unattractive to you?!” You ask, the tears now cascading down your face

“What?! What’re you taking about?!” He asks

“You literally just ran away from me! You won’t touch me you won’t even look at me!” You say causing him to stand from the bed

“Yn baby what are you talking about?” He asks reaching out to touch you

“Don’t try and touch me now! You haven’t touched me in months and everytime I try and get you to touch me your to tired or your too stressed!” You say causing him to sigh

“Yn, babe listen to me” he says with a sigh

“What is there to say to make any of this better Doyoung?” You ask

He sighs again before pulling you over to the ceiling to floor mirror in the corner of your room. You looked at hun through the mirror in confusion

“Your beautiful yn. I am literally attracted to your very being. Everything about you is beautiful. I didn’t mean to make you think or even feel as if I wasn’t attracted to you because believe me I am. I mean how could I not? I’d be a fool if I wasn’t” he says slowly sliding the towel off your body

The moment it hit the floor you covered your body causing him to sadly sigh. He turns you around so that you were facing him

He runs his hands up and down your arms

“Your covering yourself and it shouldn’t have ever came to this. I’m sorry” he says making you frown

“How come you won’t touch or look at me?” You ask

“Yn truth is…I’m embarrassed” he mumbles

“Embarrassed? About what?” You asks

“The last time we had sex…I-I came way to fast and I didn’t want to say anything to you because it was hurting my pride as a man. I’m sorry I made you feel this way” he says cupping your chubby cheeks

“You could have talked to me” you say

“I know…can I please show you how attracted to you I am?” He asks

Before you could answer he softly pushed you over onto the bed. He squats down running his hands over your knees and then your thighs.

He grabbed your leg placing your foot on his shoulder before placing kissing on the fat of your thigh

“I’m sorry how I made you feel Yn, I’ll never do that to you again” he says, his kisses now leading down to your calf

He stands back up softly pushing you down onto the soft mattress.

“The whole time I’m down here I want you to look at yourself in the mirror understand?” He says looking up at you

You nod as he goes in a long stripe up your Cunt humming at your taste. He sloppily kisses on your clit making you moan out. He groans as you run your fingers through his hair locking your legs around his head

He scoots up on his stomach pinning your legs to the mattress before sticking his tongue into your hole

"Ah Doyoung! I'm cumming" You say. He chuckle as your legs start to shake

“You better be looking at yourself” He says swiping his thumb over your clit

"I want you Doyoung" you whisper into the air

"I want you to" He say grabbing your soft plush brown thighs pulling you closer to him

"You look beautiful" he say leaning down to kiss your lips and then down your neck. You moan tilting your head to the side. He slowly slides into you groaning at how warm and tight you were

"Shit" he whisper to more to himself. Slowly, he thrust inside of you making You moan out

"D-doyoung!" You let out a breathy moan. He grabs your thighs pinning them back to the mattress. He leans down close to your lips never kissing them though

“Your so beautiful baby. I love everything about you. I’m sorry I made you feel that way” he says speeding up his pace just a little bit

“F-fuck doyoung” you say clawing at his shoulders

"I love you Yn. So much" He says

“I-I love you too” Yn says as he leans down connecting your lips for a sweet passionate kiss wrapping her hand around my arm. Doyoung smirks slamming into her making her jaw drop

"Sshit! I'm finna cum" You moans out

"Cum in me" Yn says as she starts to fuck herself onto Doyoung making him groan

"Fuck Yn" He says throwing his head back. You lock your legs around his waist as he watches as his dick disappears into your walls. He hisses as your walls clamp around him.

"Fuckk! I'm Cumming" You say

He grabs your face turning it in the direction of the mirror. Keep his hand on your chin to make sure you keep looking

"Me to. Keep looking at your beautiful ass. Your so beautiful " He says fucking into you.

His thrust get sloppy As he was about to release.  After a few sloppy strokes you both were cumming together.

You both breathe heavily as Doyoung pulls out collapsing next to you.

You both side before looking over at each other. Doyoung grabs your face placing a kiss on your forehead, then your nose, then finally your lips

“Your gorgeous baby. I’ll never make you feel like that again. I love you” Doyoung whispers on your lips

“I love you too” you say before closing your eyes.

[obey-me-rot]

You Shouldn't Be This Cool

A/N: Something purely self indulgent to kickstart this Obey Me writing blog. The idea mostly belongs to @warm-meelk because of how they drew their MC playing bass and then sprinkled in the fact that Levi would be the pianist and I just kinda...went from there q wq. And I also play bass so...all the more reason to write this!

Warnings: Levi trying to justify some of his more weird actions while MC seems to not only know...but enjoy the attention.

Levi wasn’t a creep, he was passionate.

He was passionate about TSL, he was passionate about anime, he was passionate about his idol groups and he was even passionate about learning new skills in order to better evolve himself into an ultimate fan.

So what he did today was not because he was a creep!

It was because he was passionate.

“Can you play that for me again, Levi?”

The third born tucks his feet on his chair, sipping up the noodles of his second cup of ramen as he watches the video feed from this afternoon. He smiles as the camera zooms in on your fingers, each one plucking the string of your bass absentmindedly while you listen to the melody he had composed.

As a TSL fan, he was ‘in the know’ of most TSL fan events whether they were held in the Devildom or in the human world. If they were worth the trouble he would attend and if it seemed like it was just a repeat fan event for one he already attended then he would just get the merch from the safety and comfort of his room.

Yet a completely new fan event had popped up on his radar one day, an online one.

One that challenged each and every TSL fan to create a song dedicated to their favourite lord.

Levi doesn’t remember much after that announcement, all he remembers is knocking on your door at devil knows what hours of the morning and shoving the music sheets in your face while pleading for you to help him out.

Your musical talent wasn’t hidden in the House of Lamentation. While most of the brothers could boast about having pretty decent singing voices or being ‘okay’ at certain instruments, your ‘weapon’ of choice was perhaps the most random but also well fitted instrument for someone like you.

You played the bass.

If he wanted to get specific, you played the TCB1006 Ibanez electric bass. You had mentioned in passing when you and him had met up to start ‘jamming’ out and Levi had retained that fact along with his hundreds of other facts that had to do with your particular interests and likes.

Again, because he was passionate...about your friendship.

The camera zooms out to film both of you, a happy giggle taking him over as he saw just how chill you looked.

How unfair was it that out of all the instruments you could play, you had to play the one that just made you look even cooler?

You were laying in his tub while he sat on the very chair he was sitting on now, plucking strings seemingly at random but humming some bars and trying to fit them with his melody. Your feet were propped up on the edge and the soft brown color of the guitar meshed so well with the glowing blue lights of his room that he is so glad he picked this spot for his hidden camera because you looked ethereal.

“I still can’t believe you composed this. It’s pro-level.”

“H--Ha! Of course! This is nothing but a piece of cake for me! If it's about the Third Lord and Henry then I’m all over it!”

Eyes take in the way you sit up and position your bass higher, fingers having a better reach as you start to ‘slap’ the strings in order to create a more wavy and deeper sound.

“Okay...I think I got it. Can you play the melody from the beginning?”

Oh here it was.

Sitting up, Levi puts his cup noodle down and grabs the nearby music sheets, pen already in hand as his attention on you becomes laser focused.

The beat you play is, well, playful. It is a high contrast to his almost operatic piano melody and he could almost hear himself playing a bit slower as if wondering if you had even heard what he was playing

“Uh MC…?"

“Trust me.”

Levi bites his lip as he feels his heart skip a beat, not even having to look at the screen to see that he was blushing. His past self was so predictable…

Although wasn’t his present self all the more pathetic for reacting to your words a second time?

He’d rather not think about it too much.

Your purpose had come shining through the moment Levi started to really hear the notes you were playing. It was almost as if you were mimicking Henry’s character with the bass. Cool, collected and eager to learn more about the world he had been thrusted into, your bass managed to capture the curiosity of Henry’s while his piano clearly symbolized the shy but deadly Third Lord.

The bass would go high, the piano would go low but as the melody started to harmonize so did the way your playing did with his. It was if he was the Third Lord, shyly peeking at the way Henry interacted with the world around them…

Only to turn around and invite him to join along.

His eyes go up to the screen.

You looked so happy, your fingers plucking away as he continued playing along with you. Your eyes turn to look at him and he almost wants to punch his past self in the face for not looking back. The camera had been perfectly placed to capture the way you tilt your head as you stare at him, chuckling as he clearly gets far too into the music for his own good.

To miss such an exclusive UR moment from you, he should be ashamed of himself.

“Haha. Thank the devil I came up with this camera idea!”

Levi blinks as he looks around, coming face to face with his beloved Henry as the fish stares at him from his bowl.

“...don’t look at me like that, Henry…”

The fish blinks.

“I wasn’t doing it to be a creep! I just wanted to write down the notes MC played before I forgot them.”

Henry’s mouth opens and then closes.

“And see! I even missed such exclusive moments from them! Look!”

He pauses the video and turns the screen so his fish can take a better look.

“5:06. I even timestamped it. Right here, MC is smiling and looking at me so cutely that it would be almost a sin to not record it!”

His fingers tap a couple of keys as he goes back to another point of the video.

“3:58, they smile and do such a cool trick with their fingers that I didn’t even notice that they stick their tongue out whenever they get too into playing! Do you see that Henry?”

A couple more taps as he keeps the video playing, the goldfish swims close to the edge of the bowl.

“I missed so many great moments all because I was so lost in playing! And I just didn’t want to ask them if I could record them because then they might think I’m using the footage for some sort of weird purpose and I would never do something like that to them! My Henry is far too amazing for me to just watch them one time! I just wanted to make sure of the notes they were playing! This is all for passion--!”

“Levi?”

He stops talking as he looks back at the screen, Henry swimming away while Levi tuned into the video once again.

“Was that good? I don’t know why but having the bass go a bit higher as I mute the strings feels almost like--”

“Like a conversation! It’s like the instruments are talking!”

Okay maybe this camera idea wasn’t the greatest after all, that was such a stupid thing to say and if he could go back and just slap the words out of his very mouch, he would.

Yet once again, his MC showed just why they were at the top of their ‘favourites’ list.

“Yeah! Like a convo!”

The conversation dissolves into randomness as Levi sighs and looks down at his sheet music. He only got a few notes down. Devildom, what was the point of having perfect pitch if he didn’t use it all the time? He straightens his screen out as he grabs a pencil instead of a pen, knowing full well that if he wanted to get this done he would have to rely on listening to you play and not looking at the screen.

If he finished this quickly then he would be able to stare at yo--it...he would be able to stare at it the rest of the night.

He goes to rewind the video but stops when he notices the scenery has changed just a tiny bit. You were out of his bathtub and looking at his aquarium, tapping the wall twice as some of his other fishes came up to greet you.

They were already so accustomed to you that he was sure even Lotan would know who you were.

Your attention goes from his aquarium wall to his computer, looking at all of his figurines and other merch he proudly showed off. A few more steps to the right and you were looking at his bookshelf--

Only for your eyes to lock with his.

He rolls his chair back immediately, his heart dropping to his feet as you reach out to the camera and pluck it from its hiding place.

No. No no no nononononononono!

This was it. You were done with him. Levi didn’t have a lot of friends but he knew that this was probably a friendship ender. His pupils contract as he sees you look at the camera with a confused look, already guessing your thoughts before you could vocalize them.

This weirdo was filming me the entire time. And he was hiding the camera? Disgusting. I’ll make sure to never come by his place again. What an absolute creep.

“MC...I didn’t--”

His jaw clicks shut as small tears gather at the corners of his eyes, not yet falling down his cheeks as he sees you smile and wave at the camera.

What--?

“Levi. If you wanted to film you didn’t really have to hide it. I want something to remember this session too. Next time you can just ask~”

You wink and Levi can feel his heart going from the floor all the way to his throat.

“Oh and send me a text when you have the footage ready. We can watch it together.”

He lets out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding as you place the camera back before his voice rings out from the video, exclaiming about all the snacks he had brought. So that’s why he had found you standing up, and here he thought you were leaving…

Send you a text...the footage…?

His hands scramble to his phone as he quickly enters the passcode, blushing as he sees a new message from you.

“Mind if I come over again? I have a new bassline I want to show off.”

Levi puts the phone down slowly before getting up---

Only to immediately fall down, hands over his face as he curled up on the floor.

Of all the characters he thought he would be in a shoujo, the last one he thought he would end up as is the heroine.

Not that he was regretting it, this was perhaps the best outcome that had happened in his now not so miserable life.

[entishramblings]

The Essence of Arda [Legolas X Reader]

A.N: whoA okay so this fic took me on a whole ass adventure. I kinda just let the story go where it wanted to and ya know I’m kinda happy with how it turned out. Also, “(h/c)” means hair color...there is something I included but I wanted to make sure you guys could still see yourself as the character so yeah! Another also...I’m sorry....this was requested literally so long ago.

Request: @sokkasdarling — heyhey im gonna request smth cus i LOVE U AND UR WRITING HHHH okay so how about a jealous legolas fic where he thinks the reader and aragorn have a lil thing going on but they're just really great friends and she actually likes legolas very much?? please and thank you<3333

Pairing: Legolas X Reader

Summary: (Y/N) and Legolas’s paths cross in an unexpected way and the two develop feelings for each other. However, Legolas is unsure and gets jealous bc of the way Aragorn and (Y/N) interact.

Word Count: 3,661 (sorry I got a little carried away)

Warnings: angst, fluff, cuteness, jealousy, the tiniest amount of nudity

(gif not mine)

MASTERLIST | AO3

Legolas had met many wandering souls throughout his travels of middle earth—weathered, withered, and warped humans in particular, for the elements and loneliness seemed to affect them more so. Elves, on the other hand, were bound to nature. It was where their hearts rested and their spirits thrived; therefore, the desperation of the empty lands of Arda did not affect him. However, that didn’t mean he did not wish for company. So, on that account, Legolas made his way north towards the Dundain, in hopes to see his good friend Aragorn once more.

It was there, in the northern wilderness, where he met the most riveting and thought-provoking individual. The intriguing nature that compelled his attention was that she was so unlike the other humans he ventured upon, specifically because she wasn’t exactly human.

The first time he had met (Y/N) was when her sharp canine teeth were at his throat.

A (h/c) she-wolf had launched herself at him with an unhinged jaw and barring teeth. The nimble creature had been so swift that he, even as an elf, did not have time to react. The wolf had pinned him down with a viscous expression—laughing at his surprise. Legolas was only quick enough to pull a knife from his belt once he was already knocked down upon the mud. However, he hesitated just before he was going to strike the blade into the beasts’ belly.

As intimidated as he was, something in those vibrant earthy eyes made him halt. Was it the deep churning of the sea? The fresh breath of the sky? The moisture of the leaves? The pooling of sun-kissed honey? The thickness of clay-like soil? Legolas was unsure why exactly, but those eyes reflected the essence of Arda—they reflected it right back into his soul. And here was his miscalculation, for the natural instincts of a wolf would not suspend for its prey—well, not without a familiar voice calling out....?

“(Y/N), NO!”

The creature froze. She reluctantly backed off of his form but she did not let her guard down. Instead, she circled him with those same barring teeth and low growls.

Legolas inhaled a deep breath of cold air as he tried to re-center himself, for it was not often an elf got knocked on their ass and enthralled so deep in a beauty.

He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment and focused in on his elvish senses—feeling every nerve in his body scream out to be alert.

Legolas’s ears picked up the first indication—the speaker.

A sound of rough, ragged panting carried through the breeze as his gaze whispered upon the being who had previously hollered—a worn down Ranger.

A small grin crossed the elf’s face. Aragon stood before Legolas, with hands on his knees, sucking in deep breathes. An entirely human action. The Ranger clearly had a hard time keeping up with the canine creature—which he surprisingly seemed to be acquainted with.

“Legolas, by the Valar, I didn’t know you were traveling through these parts,” He exclaimed.

The elf chuckled as he stood, brushing dirt off his palms.

“Well, I suppose I am lucky for she listens to you well,” He nodding at the wolf for reference.

The Ranger shook his head and let out an amused laugh. “She never listens to a thing I say. So, you are lucky, indeed.”

The wolf released a snort-like sound as if she was retorting to his words.

The Ranger rolled his eyes before speaking to Legolas again, “Let me show you to where we are camped. A hot meal will be waiting.”

Legolas smiled softly, “Thank you, Mellon Nin (my friend).”

The group—consisting of man, elf, and wolf—traveled through the woodland tundra with small conversation between the two who could speak. They shared their recent adventures and current news across the lands until they come upon a handful of Rangers around a blazing fire. They were clad in similar attire as Aragorn, being worn leather boots and thick fraying fabrics. Each of them had the same haunted expressions as many people Legolas had met, yet nothing like the joyful grin that pulled slightly at Aragorn’s lips.

The Ranger introduced each of his companions to the elf as he settled down upon a log. Legolas did the same, allowing himself to become enthralled by the brilliant flames. The she-wolf left his thoughts.

As the moon rose high and stars stretched across the sky, the rangers began to settle for the evening. It was then when the elf ducked away to relieve himself.

He made his way through the twisting trees in silence for he enjoyed listening to the sounds of night’s nature. But the normal chirps and hoots was not what met his ears; rather it was snapping bones and ripping skin, small groans and weak whimpers—it was pain.

Legolas narrowed his eyes and crept forward cautiously, fearful of what he might find.

The sounds let him towards a rather large bolder that was impeded in the ground and covered in thick moss. He was startled as he laid a hand on the cold stone, for a leg protruded upon the side—a leg belonging to the canine species.

It bended and it snapped, morphing into one of human nature—much like his own. It then disappeared behind the rock once more. He could not hold back the gasp that left his lips for witnessing such a thing was—shocking, confusing, terrifying. It was unnatural, but then again, what was ever natural within the lands of Arda?

Legolas’s attention was drawn upwards as a naked figure shakily stood before him.

She stood straight, with impeccable posture, and a head held high; but that is not what claimed his consciousness. It was that vibrant gaze, burning angry holes into him.

She spoke sharply, “Well, are you going to pass me my clothing?”

Instead of responding or making any motion, he froze as if he was deer hiding from the predator once more. His blue orbs locked onto hers, for he dared not let his gaze wander.

Dreadful silence hung in their air as he processed that the person before him indeed was a wolf moments before—the wolf.

However, that antagonizing absence of sound was disrupted when life was breathed back into him and he could finally move his lips. Though it came out as a whisper, for elves were conservative creatures and such a sight had caught him off guard, it still came out nonetheless.

“You are—are not entirely human.” He stated with an expression that seeped curiousness and inquiry.

“Though, currently, I am shaped like one. So, as you are in my way, I will ask you once again to pass me my clothing.” She reiterated.

Legolas’s brows pulled together and his lips mumbled her words back to her as he searched his mind for the meaning. He twisted around and around until a pile of dark fabrics caught his eye. He grasped them gently and passed it over the boulder between them into her calloused hands.

He turned so his back was facing her. His anxiety and awkwardness reverberated off of every word that non-consensually tumbled from his lips. “You are a shifter then—able to alter your form? A wolf....so I suppose it was you who almost tore my throat out.” He paused before recalling her name, “(Y/N).” He should have stopped there if he could, but alas, he couldn’t. “I have only ever met one other like you. His name was Beorn—a great black bear he was—“

She interrupted him, “Most elves I come across are not so verbal. Though, Strider had mentioned you before, Legolas. A strange fellow you are indeed.”

A small grin of embarrassment flickered across his face, not that she could see. “He called me strange?”

A laugh, sounding of blades of grass rubbing together against the wind, struck the air. (Y/N) spoke, “For an elf he had said. But truly, he was too generous with those extra words.”

Legolas tilted his head at that for it seemed to be an insult; but before he could decide on such a matter, she called out to him again—this time fully clothed and ten feet in front of him.

“Are you coming?”

He quickly scampered after her.

As he and (Y/N) entered the area, Aragorn, who still sat by the fire, glanced up with a shimmer in his eye.

Legolas gridded his teeth and sat down next to the man. In a voice as low and quiet as he could muster, he spoke to the Ranger. “Why didn’t you tell me she was the wolf?”

Aragorn smirked in amusement before whispering back, “I figured you would eventually come to that conclusion and by your expression it was not of the best experiences.”

Legolas shot his friend a glare, but that only made the Ranger grin more.

Luckily for the elf, (Y/N) interrupted the moment. “Strider, did you save me some stew? I’m starved.”

The man passed a bowl to her as he spoke, “You know I always do, (Y/N).”

She smiled gratefully.

The Ranger stood and made his way to his bedroll, clapping the elf on the shoulder as he went.

Legolas took notice of the interaction between the two and turned his attention to the woman sitting across from him.

Once he was sure Aragorn was out of ear shot, he spoke quite bluntly, “You and Strider....are you—“

She snorted, “No, no. His heart lies in Rivendell.”

Legolas raised an eyebrow, “And yours?”

(Y/N) shrugged and glanced up at the scenery around them. “Here. In the lands of middle earth.”

The elf tilted his head, examining her again.

She stopped her chewing and sent him an accusatory look. “What?”

Legolas smiled softly, “I sense that shifters are much like elves in that regard—bound to nature and tethered in the sky.”

She raised a brow, “And what makes you think that?”

He chuckled lightly at her bold fierceness, “Your eyes. I can see the essence of Arda in them.”

(Y/N) shook her head in amusement, “Elves and their poetry.” She paused, taking a moment to think. “Although what you say is true, it is within that where I think we differ. You elves are laced up spiritually whereas shifters are tied animalisticly.” When the elf did not respond she continued, “You care for morals, I care to survive.”

Legolas nodded in understanding, “Yet we both appreciate the beauty of it.”

The corner of her lip pulled upwards and she shook her head in agreement.

......

As time went on and the small group traveled, the female shifter and the elf became great friends—bonding over their infinity with nature. The two had split off from the rangers for a little while because (Y/N) wanted to see the forest of Greenwood and examine what seemed to be haunting it. However, after approximately two moon cycles, they met with Aragorn once more. He was not with his previous companions though, so it was only the three of them.

The months had gotten colder and they traveled upon open plains so (Y/N) stayed in her wolf form. It was easier for the time being. And it was in this shape that she came bounding towards the ranger that she had not seen in a while.

She jumped up upon him, knocking him to the ground as she had once done to Legolas. She plastered wet slobbery licks upon his face as his chest rumbled with laughter.

The elf could not help but feel a pang of jealous encase his heart. He had grown to develop feelings for the shifter as they had grown close over their journey. 

Just as he felt bound to nature, he felt bound to her.

So he stood, with a fire burning in his heart, as he watched (Y/N) give canine affection to his human friend.

As the days continued on, Legolas’s irritation grew. (Y/N) strayed closer to Aragorn’s side—rubbing her face against his leg and pawing at his feet in attempt to trip him.

Of course, Aragorn could pick up on the elf’s mood and angry looks. He had thought Legolas was aware of his lover in Rivendell, but perhaps not. The Ranger had wanted to find a moment alone with the elf so he could assure him of the sibling-like relationship between him and the shifter; but with open freezing lands like this, there was no privacy.

The small trio had settled upon large rocks for the night as that was the only shelter available. They lit a brilliant fire in attempt to starve off the nipping wind, but it only did so much.

Aragorn, wrapped in blankets, had fallen asleep quite quickly; whereas Legolas sat brooding, leaning against a boulder.

It was a moment before he noticed those curious eyes on him. They twinkled with the emotions of Arda, searching his soul. With a tilted head, the wolf approached him slowly.

She crawled forward, so close that her wet nose was inches from his own. She resting one large paw upon his thigh but her weight did not hurt him.

Legolas did not move because he was taken by surprise. (Y/N), as partially human, did understand boundaries; yet, she did not seem to care about them in this instance. Instead, she studied him—up close.

The elf knew that she was searching him for answers given she had noticed his mood as well. However, Legolas did not wish to give any. Therefore, he held his porcelain elf features strong, not bending to her intimidation. He starred right back at her. Though this time, his eyes were filled with anger and frustration—and (Y/N) could tell.

Legolas was upset with her for she blatantly gave Aragorn affections.

Could she not see his heart?

He had said he would not bend to her will and intimidation. He had decided he would be cold towards her. He had made a choice—a choice that he could not uphold as he gazed into her soft eyes of nature.

Slowly, he raised a gentle hand. He brought it close to her face. When she did not pull away, he cupped the canine’s features.

To his disbelief, (Y/N) completed an action he had never seen her do before—even with Aragorn. She leaned into his touch.

Legolas’s lips parted as the moment encapsulated his mind.

He let his hand fall slowly and (Y/N) leaped off his lap. But she did not scamper off in a different direction. Instead, she ducked into his side and curled up against him. She let her head rest on his lap.

Cautiously, Legolas began to stroke her soft, (h/c) fur. He let the short strands slip through his fingers, lulling her to sleep.

.....

When Legolas woke, (Y/N) was not in his sights. He sent a confused expression towards Aragorn who was tending to the dwindling flames.

“She will be back,” the Ranger stated simply.

The elf stood and walked towards Aragorn. “Where did she go?”

The ranger shrugged while biting back a smile.

Legolas frowned at his playful expression, “I know you know something, Aragorn.”

The man raised his brows. “I woke sometime in the night. You and (Y/N) seemed quite close.” He paused, the tone of his voice changing, “You know, she never lets anyone touch her like that.”

“Never have you....?” Legolas let his sentence trail off as the ranger shook his head.

Aragorn spoke again, “My heart rests with another.”

Their conversation was cut short by a feminine voice. “Have either of you seen my cloak?”

Legolas’s head snapped in the direction of the sound for it had been long since (Y/N) was in her human form.

The shifter stood before them shivering slightly in her clothes. They were clearly not fit for the freezing air as the fabric was thin—so thin that her the curve of her breasts and nipples was easily seen.

Legolas adverted his eyes and instantly began to ruffle through his bag as he spoke with concern in his tone. “(Y/N), why have you shifted to your human form? Did you not say it was safer for you to travel through this weather as a wolf?”

She sighed, “It is harder to communicate in my animal form.”

Both of the men knew what she was alluding to.

Legolas cleared his throat and pulled out a couple fabrics from his bag. “I have been carrying your cloak.” He moved towards her as he continued speaking. “Wear this as well. It is an elvish tunic weaved from my homeland; it will keep you warm.”

“Legolas, you don’t ha—“

He shook his head, “Please, I insist.”

(Y/N) reluctantly took it and pulled the fabric over her head. She frowned as she handled the wrap around ties, not quite able to figure out how they were supposed to lay.

The elf smiled softly, “Here, let me.”

Ever so gently he took the extra fabric in his hands and begun to weave it around her form. He tied the delicate cloths in a simple knot before moving to fasten her cloak under her chin.

“Thank you, Legolas.”

He tucked a stray hair behind her ear, “It is no problem.”

He turned to gather his belongings as they were to continue their way through Arda. However, as he did so, Aragorn shot him an amused playful look. The elf sent him a sharp glare in retribution.

.....

Within a couple days, a winter storm hit the group. Luckily, they were not far from a human town which they gratefully took refuge in. Of course, as they busted into the inn, many weird looks were thrown their direction. It was not often this area was crossed by elves and rangers—and skin changers, but they were unaware of (Y/N)’s less than human nature.

They each paid for a room and took time to settle into the warmth.

Legolas rested on the edge of the cot, fiddling with one of his blades. He had let his thoughts wander to a place he had been avoiding. A bond with nature was one thing he knew deep within his soul, but a bond with another was something untouched and left uncovered. Of course he had had acquaintances with friends and family; however, the bond he was debating over was one with a lover. He knew where his heart craved to be, yet he was unsure how to proceed.

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the frame of his open door.

Legolas looked up to see (Y/N). She was wearing fresh clothing, likely washed and pressed by a maid. All the filth and grim had been scrubbed from her skin and her wet hair was pulled into a tight braid.

“(Y/N),” he stated simply. “Is something wrong?”

She shook her head as she stepped into his room, “Well, not entirely.”

Legolas frowned at that comment.

The shifter walked closer until she stood only a foot from the elf.

He looked up into her vibrant eyes with question.

(Y/N) cleared her throat as she gently placed something soft and neatly folded into his hands. “Thank you for lending me your extra tunic.”

He smiled softly at her, “Won’t you need it again when we depart? The weather isn’t getting warmer anytime soon.”

A light chuckle rumbled in her chest and she shook her head in response.

Legolas placed the fabric next to him and looked up at her again. He did not notice he was staring until she whispered his name.

“Legolas, why do you do that?”

He tilted his head trying to hid his embarrassment, “What do you mean?”

Her teeth scraped her bottom lip, “Why do you look at me like that?”

The elf adverted his gaze, “My apologizes. I did not mean to offend you—“

(Y/N) interrupted him, “It is not an offense.” She sighed before speaking again. “You look at me like you marvel at nature—as if I am something so breath taking.”

“You are.” He frowned, “Do you not think so of yourself?”

The woman did not say a word; instead, she shifted her vision to the floor.

Legolas reached outwards and took her hand in his own. “You are breath taking, (Y/N)—even more so than nature.”

She shook her head, “I—I don’t understand.”

Legolas could not hold back any longer. He knew he needed to explain what he meant but no words could formulate such a thing. Therefore, he gave into his impulses and did the only thing he could think of to demonstrate it. The elf pulled her into him and grasped her cheeks with his hands. Legolas drew her face downward and smashed his lips against hers. When she did not reiterate any action he instantly pulled away. Had he taken a step too far?

“Legolas,” she breathed out in a whisper.

“I...I am sorry...I didn’t—“

She shook her head and clasped his cheeks, bringing his mouth to hers once again. Their lips moved together like the rhythmic dance of the wind—swirling and intertwining with eagerness. Legolas could taste the essence of Arda upon her lips—the sweet honey from east of the Anduin, the fresh berries from the region of Eriador, the bitter nuts from the mountains of Angmar. (Y/N) moved her body in-between his legs, but she decided that that was not close enough. So, she lifted herself into his lap, letting his calloused hands encircle her waist and hold her steady. She could feel the warmth of sparking fires, the comfort of soft wool, the shield of shelter from harsh winds. Legolas laid down upon the bed, pulling her form with him. He could hear the pounding of her heart and the gasps of her breath. Every sound she made did not escape him, it fueled him. (Y/N) tangled her fingers in his blonde locks and smiled against his lips for she recognized every aspect of nature within the elf, for it was in her too. It was the essence of Arda.

.....

Everything Tag: @sokkasdarling @scxundress @quilledinkpen @hufflepuffinblr @lea----b @aredhel-of-gondolin @princecami @the-fandoms-georgie @jazziwritestolkienprimary @swimming-in-stardust

Legolas Tag: @dark-angel-is-back @mylittle-escapingdreams @arandomfandomblog @moriamithril

[missallsundaes]

hi! i’ve never requested anything before so forgive me if i do anything wrong but i saw ur last req with usopp and i desperately need more usopp content!! he is my honey! honestly i’m giving u free reign here just bc i think he deserves it (but tbh would not mind seeing some angsty usopp)

HONESTLY Usopp is not only one of my favorite characters but one of my favorites to write for as well. You can ALWAYS request Usopp from me!! He is my sweet baby boy and I’d die for him.

I picked one of my autumn prompts ; w ; I hope that’s okay. Love u anon x

Please feel free to request Usopp at any point. I have *a lot* of feelings about him.

SFW Usopp x GN Reader Combo Prompts 5 and 17 ”Bonfire” and “Cuddling Close to Keep Warm”

wc 498

Landing on an autumn island was a nice break from the heat of the ocean’s bright sun and the last few islands you had landed on. The colors for one, were beautiful and the local fauna had your boyfriend off the ship in a second, ready to sketch the plants and bugs that inhabited them. It was late evening by the time your chores aboard were finished, and even though Sanji had offered to take care of them for you, you denied the help, your mother always taught you that good things come from working hard, and doing your own chores was part of that.

You stretched, looking out to the island full of its fiery oranges and reds in the trees, leaning against the railing to appreciate the sights before you. You felt a hand wrap around your waist, and you could smell the woodsy scent of his cologne before your embrace was met.

“Mmm, Hi Usopp,” You mumbled, leaning into his chest, a natural smile spreading across your lips, enjoying his arm around you.

“Hey Lovebug,” He said cheerfully, “The crew is going to a bonfire tonight, Luffy somehow got us all invited,” he laughed, “Wanna get changed with me so we can go?”

“Yeah! Of course!” You smiled, hurrying down into the ship to the cabins to change together.

By the time that the two of you had met up with the others at the bonfire, the evening sun had nearly set, the edges of dusk tingeing the dark blue sky with orange. The bonfire that the village had set was already in full force, and it was easy enough to find most of your crew, especially considering it looked like Luffy had nearly eaten half of the banquet table already, you smiled, it always warmed your heart to see the crew having a good time together. Usopp found you a spot close enough to feel the fire, but the cold air of the evening was still approaching, sitting on the log bench close together.

Usopp wrapped his arm around you, and you were thankful for his warmth, cuddling up to him and absently watching the flames of the fire dance across the wooden frame of the bonfire.

“Wanna see what I found today while I was sketching?” He said, his smile warmer than the light of the fire or the heat of his body in the cool air.

You nodded quickly, “Of course!!”

He rummaged in his pocket for a minute before pulling out a seashell, cradling it in his hand, it was filled with soil with a tiny sprout growing out of the middle of it.

“It reminded me of you so I had to bring it back,” He laughed nervously.

You leaned over, kissing him softly, “It’s so cute, thank you Usopp.”

[herherteartear]

blanket kick

précis— Peter's not the suave man he would hope to be in front of his crush. instead, he's a blushing mess that haunts his memories and causes him to take out his frustrations on his blanket. luckily, you prefer cherry cheeks over smooth lines any day.

pairing— Peter Parker x enhanced!maximoff!reader

a/n— this is my first standalone written story and my first time writing for marvel! i hope you guys enjoy thisss<3 i'm also open to creating drabbles to continue this if anyone's interested????! pls enjoy and pls comment and let me know ur thoughts!!!

there are many ways to describe Peter Parker, but none could ever wholly capture the true essence of the boy

besides the obvious stuff,, his intelligence , his insanely good looks , his teenage awkwardness,,

it was a hard feat to string along words to describe the way he carries himself , the way he is with others , the way his heart loves with the same ability a sponge soaks up water and soap

Peter's had crushes before

perhaps more than he'd like to admit

(can't blame the boy, who gave Ty Lee the right be that cute!?)

but when he sees her, his heart begins to swell and suddenly, he forgets how to breathe..

or how to think... talk. y'know normal human stuff

in all honesty, Peter has tried his absolute hardest to block out their first meeting from his memories

he doesn't regret meeting her, of course not! never would he even repent that embarrassingly wonderful day

he only wishes it would've gone a little differently

let's set the scene, shall we?

the sun was shining brightly, the sky was a Carolina blue, the clouds were the prettiest porcelain color, rimmed with lace

Peter was riding in an awfully silent car that Happy was driving to the airport. despite being terrified of what's to come,, the fight Mr. Stark had recruited him for,, the boy was thoroughly enjoying this adventure.

the car came to a stop, which did little for Peter's nerves. he gathered his courage before stepping out, eyes squinting at the brightness of the yellow sun. once his eyes adjusted, they landed on the prettiest head of hair he had ever seen

(although he did think the same for Hermione Granger)

Peter had never been on a plane before that day. but even then, his sparkling eyes stayed trained on her,, completely ignoring the brilliant private jet behind her

"oh? Happy, i thought it was just us?" her voice made Peter's ears burn. he swallowed thickly. you blinked at Peter, curious but also intrigued , you smiled.

to which Peter choked. on air. your eyebrows furrowed in worry.

"a-are you okay?"

"god, kid, get ahold of yourself."

"i-i'm okay! it's– i'm– i'm fine!" Peter quickly stuttered out.

"well, Yn, this is– uh,, what's your name again?" Happy turned towards the boy who's cheeks were now redder than a firetruck.

"oh! i'm Peter– Peter Parker. it's nice to meet you- not that i don't know you. well i don't, y'know not personally. but like from the news.. not that i believe the news! they're awful to you, but i mean i guess i do sometimes– but never about what they say about you–"

"i'm Yn Maximoff. it's nice to meet you too, Peter." you cut him off before Happy strangled the cute boy. you had an amused smile

he was cute

finally getting on the plane, Peter had hoped he would be able to sit far away from you and wallow in his embarrassment,

maybe sneak a glance or two.. imagine a couple of scenarios where he wasn't a doofus,

but that's not quite what happened.

after witnessing just how much the new kids was able to ramble,, Happy was not about to spend a whole ass plane ride remotely close to him

so he took it upon himself to make the kiddies sit together.. much to Peter's dismay.

like!!? did Happy not see how Peter crashed and burned in font of you?!

you, on the other hand,, had the opposite reaction.

being the youngest avenger, you don't get to be around people your age too much,, which isn't something you're complaining about!!

you totally made the decision to be an avenger and you happily welcomed the consequences..

that didn't mean you didn't get lonely at times. especially now with the accords and the team breaking up., things got a whole lot more lonely

your sister, Wanda, had made her choice to leave the compound. you completely understood why, but a part of you had hoped she would've taken you with her

although, staying at the compound did ensure your safety.

it was a weird time for the avenger's , it felt wrong for you to say some of your teammates were criminals

it left a sour taste in your mouth

you glanced from the window seat to see Peter nervously wringing his fingers. you frowned.

"are you okay?" you asked, gently. Peter's eyes widened and his heart jumped to his throat. he wanted to say something, something cool or aloof, something that would make up for his ranting earlier

"i've never been on a plane before." Peter squeaked out. he dropped his shoulders, rolling his eyes at himself. that was the highest pitch he had ever heard his voice. you took in his clearly anxious posture.

"lets switch seats? maybe looking out the window will help you." you stated. before Peter could quickly shake his head, because how rude would it be of him to take your seat?, you were already stood up.

"oh god!" Peter breathed. he quickly shifted over to the seat you once occupied. he wanted to put up more of a fight, but the way you were swaying due to the turbulence, made his palms sweat in fear for your safety.

"you, like, swing from buildings and stuff, right?" you asked. he turned to you with a nod. "are you afraid of heights? or do you just not like planes?"

oh god. oh. no. you thought– you thought he was scared of being on the plane. Peter wanted to shrink in a hole and hide. you probably thought he was such a baby! that he could handle swinging from hundreds of feet in the air, but a plane is where he drew the line?

but what else is he supposed to say? 'oh, no! it's not the plane I'm scared of. it's just your beautiful smile and the way you smell like cocoa that gets me sweating'

wtf.

that was so wrong in so many ways.

"um, no, no. i'm okay, just– just a little nervous, is all." Peter tried to force out a chuckle. but it come out more like a cough. you mouth formed an 'o.'

"ohh, okay." you paused before your eyes lit up. "how about we play a game? to distract you?"

"o– okay.."

"can you talk with spiders?" Peter lifted his eyes from looking at his hands hovering above yours,; he let out a much more relaxed laugh than earlier.

you took advantage of his distraction to swiftly bring your palm from underneath his and slap the top of Peter's hand. he jumped.

"ouch!" he playfully pouted. you eyes glanced down at his lips. you giggled nervously. your hand went to hover over his, him now being the one to do the slapping. "of course i can't talk to spiders! i– i feel like i should probably be able to shape-shift into a spider in order for that to happen, y'know?"

you nodded thoughtfully. "that's true.. you didn't hear this from me, but i heard there's an Ant-Man going around." Peter looked at you with wide eyes.

"no way! that's crazy! does he like turn into an ant?" you bumped his hand with yours in order to get his attention back to the game. his hand burned at the feeling

"i don't know-" you said in a singsong tone. "it's just what's being said around the compound." you quickly slid your hands to avoid Peter's attack. he huffed.

"how are you so good at this?" he knitted his eyebrows to focus on how to attack quickly without hurting you.

"it's a game i used to play with my brother and sister." you answered. Peter finally took his chance to slap your hands, to which you squealed excitedly as you had tried to move in time. Peter and you fell into a fit of giggles.

you both leaned against your seats, still facing each other. your hands fell on top of Peter's.

the brown haired boy quickly slid his hand out from under yours, not because he didn't enjoy the contact, but because he was worried you'd feel how clammy his hands were

you frowned slightly at the loss of contact.

"a– are we really fighting your sister?" Peter wondered out loud, without a second thought.

you shifted uncomfortably. Peter quickly noticed; his heart sped up and he mentally scolded himself for being so inconsiderate.

"not because i think she's evil! i mean,, i know that's what the news says.. but they also think Spider-Man's like thirty. and i'm not thirty! its just everything's crazy right now.. with the accords., i can't even imagine how you're feeling! probably terrible.. oh, g od wait, not terrible, i'm s–"

you had been watching with an endearing look in your eye. you had come to find that you enjoy watching Peter ramble.

his eyes would become unsettled and shaky, his body would begin to become more and more animated, but his voice

gosh, his voice was something you wanted to listen to for the rest of your life

but you could tell he was getting more and more skittish. so you put him out of his misery

"terrible probably wouldn't be my go-to word, it's up there though.. at least i got to meet you." you smiled softly.

Peter's eyes ran over your soft features. night had fallen, so the windows of the plan displayed an almost picturesque display of the moon and stars. the light hue of color the moon provided painted your face in a way that clouded Peter's thoughts.

with your comment of being grateful to have met him, Peter wasn't in control of his mouth for much longer.

"so pretty." he breathed. both of you guys froze.

Peter's face quickly morphed from love-sick to mortified. you blushed violently.

deciding you didn't want Peter to fall into another rant-like apology (because if you got to listen to him talk for that long in this setting, you might just drop the 'L' word) , you said,

"let's watch a movie?"

the two of you sat, shoulder to shoulder, watching Scott Pilgrim Vs. the World, but being too hyper aware of their thighs pressed together and brushing hands to actually pay attention

upon arrival, both teenagers walked off the plane, sleep deprived , but with thumping hearts and dazed grins.

Peter threw himself on his hotel bed that night,, hiding under the covers

his thoughts replayed your interaction over and over (and over and over) in his head

the boy shoved his head, face first, into the stiff hotel pillow and let out a muffled groan

Peter flipped himself over, stared at the ceiling, before remembering his spouts of unnecessarily long explanations

he thrashed his body, kicking his poor blanket in frustration but most of all, out of embarrassment

he calmed himself down once his memories refreshed themselves over your gentle giggles and how soft your hands were

Peter fell asleep with cherry red cheeks and a blissful grin.

because despite those small mess ups, despite the futile way he beat his covers in humiliation, Peter treasures that day like no other.

[seasideheeseung]

Paris, 1992; Lee Heeseung - Chapter Two

summary: it was forbidden - this glaring fact being a quarter of the reason why you couldn't stop.

the other three-fourths, being that from the moment you met him, you couldn't stay away from him. you had not planned on traveling to the city of love, much less becoming another cliche under the gloomy sky, but alas. Paris is not meant to be explored alone. and you had never met another man as beautiful and stunning as Lee Heeseung in Paris of 1992.

truthfully, if you could go back? you wouldn't change a single thing.

pairing: lee heeseung x reader

genre: romance, college!student hee, actually perfect heethungie all around. help-

word count: at this point like 7k I’m p sure (rip to my fingers god)

warnings: this fic will include themes of infidelity, adultery, adult content (drinking, etc.), and just general very Grown themes. if any of these themes make you feel uncomfortable, please do not read this fic!

song rec: comptine d`un autre ete - l`apres-midi - yann tiersen

playlist: here

wattpad vers.: here

a/n: Besties.... It’s 5 am as I’m writing this. I’ve been working on this chapter ALL NIGHT LONG and I just really hope yall enjoy it as much as I did. Also if ur curious about Heeseung’s apartment, you can actually look at it here, lol. Except, the furniture in it is way different looking compared to Hee’s. Anyway! If there are any typos pls spare me bc like I said, its an ungodly hour in the morning and I’m dead inside. This fic took it out of me so uhhh I rlly hope yall enjoy it. I love u all so much, and also I love paris heeseung, god. ok. ily bye!!!

Chapter One / Chapter Two

The rain is gone by the time you’ve finished your dinner, but the smell still accompanies you as you walk down the thin pathway, passing apartment after apartment under the full moon hung high above Paris. The cab drive was short, only about fifteen minutes, but the neighborhood may as well be one from a different planet.

The large complexes are mismatched colors of baby blues, tans, and whites, all with black rooftops.Their balconies jut out from the marble of their foundations, and they are beautiful. They look exactly how you’d expect them to.

You aren’t sure how you finally manage to find Heeseung’s apartment, but once you do, you notice how your hands begin to shake with nerves. What if he thinks you’re crazy for finding his apartment? What if he’s not even home? God, what if someone else answers the door?

You climb the stairs with horrible thoughts swirling around in your head, each step only deepening the anxiety you feel growing in your stomach. At the very least, you can just give the license back, and be on your way. The sky outside was turning a burnt blue, you should be going back to the hotel anyway.

All too quickly, you come face to face with a large, oak door. It is encrusted with a gold-plated number 12 on the front, with a small peep hole slightly below it. There is no knocker, so you raise your hand gently, taking a deep breath, before you rap lightly on the wood. All the anxiety you felt just a few moments ago has increased ten-fold, and you feel yourself holding your breath when you hear soft footsteps behind the door, starting to near.

Heeseung is just as beautiful the second time you see him as the first.

He’s adorning a pastel purple hoodie, paired with gray sweatpants and slippers. His hair is messy, like the wind from outside has tossed it around a bit, but his face is still kind. His eyes are still soft.

Once his eyes focus on you, his head tilts gently to the side. You see the surprise in his eyes, and for a second, you let yourself be thankful that it was him who answered the door.

“Y/N?” Heeseung asks, looking down at you, “What are you doing here?”

You quickly pull out his license from the jacket pocket and hold it up to him, smiling in embarrassment.

“You forgot this in your pocket. I figured you’d want it back.”

You ignore the fact that he remembered your name and watch him expectedly.

His doe eyes go even wider than they already are, and then, he’s laughing. He’s laughing, and you have to keep yourself from feeling even more embarrassed.

“O-Oh my god! I didn’t even realize.” He easily takes the piece of plastic from you before setting it down on the small table next to the doorway, next to his keys. He is smiling when he looks back at you.

“That could have been bad, thank you for bringing it back to me.”

“No problem,” You say swiftly, “I was going to leave it at your work but I figured you’d be more freaked out by then, if you weren’t able to find it or… yeah.”

You chew on the inside of your lip as Heeseung nods in understanding, glad when he does.

“You’re right, I would have gone mad by then, truthfully.” He chuckles again before realizing the position you’re both in.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, would you like to come inside?”

Your heart leaps into your throat, nearly sending you into a flush of redness and rambles, but you manage to contain yourself as you look past Heeseung and into his apartment. It’s well-lit and gives off a cozy feel. You want to say yes, you really do. But it is already late, and you don’t want to bother him.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” He says without an ounce of judgment, “I know it’s kind of weird, being invited into someone’s apartment whom you met, like, two hours ago.”

“No, that’s not it.” You say, even though he has a point, “It’s just.. I don’t want to impose.”

Heeseung’s brows furrow before he shakes his head, grinning widely, “Not at all, I promise! I was actually taking a break from studying, anyway. Here-”

He steps to the side, opening the door even more for you, and now you have nothing holding you back from stepping into his apartment. 

Without overthinking the situation, you finally step over the door’s threshold and inside, heart beating firmly in your chest, and eyes beginning to wander.

The apartment has wooden floors, and the hallway you enter through leads you straight forward to the main part of his home. Once the hallway expands open into the actual space, you’re in Heeseung’s living room. There is a couch pressed against the wall to the left, and a small coffee table placed just in front of it. His living room is decorated nicely, with a throw rug, standing lamps on each side of the couch, and even some flowers placed nicely on the coffee table. His couch has throw pillows and even a small blanket strewn across the back. Two windows are built into the wall across from the entrance, and you can see the moonlight and street lighting shining in. 

The space is big enough to encompass a small dining table, directly to your left, and farther from it is an opening that marks the entrance to the kitchen, with its uniquely-colored tiled floors. When you look back, you see that Heeseung’s bedroom is wedged past the doorway to the right, almost like a small nook, which leads into a large bedroom, almost tucked away.

The most noticeable part of Heeseung’s apartment is the amount of books he has, some tucked away in corners, a few used as a small table to hold a tea cup, and a couple even placed on the small television he has against the wall on the right. Books take up almost every clear space he has, but they don’t look messy or sloppy. They look nice and pretty in their spaces.

“My apartment is built weird,” He speaks suddenly, fingers tangling together as he looks bashful down at you, “Sorry.”

It’s your turn to laugh, and suddenly, you can’t imagine Heeseung having any other apartment than this one. It’s small but cozy, and it smells like him. There’s art on the walls, cities and sketches, and he shouldn’t be insecure about it. It may just be the prettiest place you’ve ever been in, which is saying something, considering the hotel you’ve been at for the past couple of weeks.

“I like it.” You smile at him, now taking off the jacket he let you wear before placing it on the back of one of his dining table chairs, “It’s very you.”

He gives you a shy smile before half-walking half-skipping to his couch in an awkward little run, which makes you want to laugh again.

“I didn’t expect company, sorry if it’s a bit- yeah.” He begins cleaning up his mess of textbooks and pens, also trying to grab his leftover coffee cup before shoving all his stationery into his backpack nearby and taking the cup to the kitchen sink. You hear him rinse it out and set it down before he comes back, letting out a deep breath.

“You can sit down, if you’d like.” He motions toward the couch and makes his way to it as well. You nod and sit down, crossing your legs underneath yourself silently before letting your eyes roam the apartment again. Heeseung settles in next to you, joining you in looking around. He’s more awkward now than he was at the restaurant, but in a really endearing way, and the thought makes you smile.

After a few moments of scanning some of his books, your eyes settle on a particularly large one, and you look a bit confused before glancing back at Heeseung. His eyes flash from you to the book, and then he’s standing, already reaching to pick it up and bring it back to you.

“Have you ever read Anna Karenina before?”

You shake your head no, and Heeseung flicks his fingers over the pages easily, finding where he left off. 

“What’s it about?” You ask, interested as he shows you how long the pages are.

“Adultery.” He says simply, looking at you. You lock eyes with him before he’s giggling, scooting closer to hand you the book. You take it in your hands, feeling it’s weight before you look through the pages yourself.

“It’s actually about love,” Heeseung says, “And sacrifice. Sacrifice for the one you love, really.”

“And you like it?” You ask him, eyes still on the book.

“I think it’s an important book. And I wouldn’t have it if I didn’t like it, would I?” He’s half teasing, but you can tell he means it. 

“Maybe I need to read it then.” You say, finally looking back at him, eyes soft.

Heeseung blinks at you for a second before his face softens, fingers moving trace over the cover of the book fondly.

“He stepped down, trying not to look long at her, as if she were the sun, yet he saw her, like the sun, even without looking.”

You’re surprised by his words, and swallow thickly as he retracts his hand back, folding it in his lap. “Tolstoy wrote that. It’s a quote... from the book.” He nods, finally relaxing back against the couch.

“Wow.” You say, genuinely impressed. Not only by the words but by the fact that Heeseung can recite it from memory. It makes you wonder what other quotes he remembers off the top of his head.

“Yeah, it’s filled with all types of passages like that. You’d like it.”

“How do you know I’d like it?” You ask him shyly.

“Because everyone likes love, don’t they?”

You don’t know how to reply to that, so you simply hand him the book back carefully and press your palms together in pure uncertainty. 

Heeseung sets the book down on the coffee table and then moves to stand, “Would you like some tea?”

You’re glad he doesn’t press the question from a few moments ago as you nod, “Yes, please.”

Heeseung hums and then turns to the kitchen, disappearing to one side for a second before setting two cups near the sink. He grabs the kettle and fills it with water, allowing it to reach the completely full point before he sets it on the stovetop and turns the heat up, clearly having done this many times.

“Sugar or milk?” He asks, glancing over at you.

“Both?” You ask, suddenly remembering the situation earlier at the restaurant with the bread. Your stomach does a strange flip for some reason, and by the face Heeseung is making, you can tell that he remembered it too.

“You know what I think?” He says, almost like it’s a thought he’s just blurting out loud, before moving to the fridge.

You stay silent, and he speaks again after a few seconds.

“I think you’re the kind of person who doesn’t like to miss out on multiple things. You like to have everything life has to offer, almost like you’re too scared it’ll slip from your grasp if you give it the chance. You want everything, simply because you don’t want to be left with nothing.”

You’re quiet for a bit longer before finally speaking up, “And you got that from my answer of just sugar and milk?”

He laughs and drops two tea bags into the mugs, shaking his head.

“Sort of, it’s just the impression I get from you. I could be wrong.”

He’s not. But you don’t tell him that.

Instead, you change the subject.

“I actually just hate bitter tea. I dislike bitter drinks in general actually. What about you?”

He makes a face like he has to catch up to your words, like he wasn’t expecting that response, and then he answers.

“I’m the same way. I don’t think we should drink bitter drinks or suffer through food we personally dislike just because others think we should. Do you know how many of my friends get on my case because I dislike black coffee?”

You nod understandingly, “Oh my god, yeah. Or, like, how many people judge me for not liking onions.”

Heeseung stops in his tracks, eyeing you from across the room.

“Wait, you don’t like onions? What are you, a monster?”

You laugh loudly as a teasing smile makes its way to his face. He tuts playfully, and in that moment, you suddenly realize just how much Heeseung makes you laugh.

“What do you season your food with when you’re cooking it, salt and pepper?” Heeseung laughs at his own lame question, and you stand to look at the art on his walls, already ready to defend yourself.

“Actually, I like onions for seasoning, just not, like, raw onions on burgers or things like that.”

“Ah,” Heeseung says like he understands, “So if I gave you a burger with onions on it, you’d hate me. Noted.”

You laugh, “However, I like onion rings.”

He gives you a bewildered look.

“You make absolutely no sense.”

You both laugh together before the kettle goes off, and then Heeseung is pouring the scorching liquid into the mugs and adding the sugar and milk to them. He drops a spoon in each one easily before bringing them over to where you stand, handing you yours carefully.

“Careful, it’s hot.” He warns you softly before eyeing the art you’re looking at, beginning to stir his tea.

“What’s that?” You ask, pointing to a particularly large painting on the wall. It’s obviously hand painted, and it looks like a jumbled mess of buildings and colorful lights. 

“I painted that when I first came to Paris. I took this art class at university and they told us to paint the strongest emotion we felt in that moment, so I painted the city.”

“The city was the strongest emotion you felt in the moment?” You grin.

“No, the feeling of a new beginning was.”

You’re flustered when Heeseung does that, and it feels like he does it a lot. When he goes from doing something like joking about onions moments before, but then when he goes on to saying something so honest, so real, it leaves you absolutely speechless where you stand.

You look over the painting for a few more seconds before going back to smiling at Heeseung - actually smiling at him this time. He holds your eyes and smiles back at you. 

You bring the mug up to your lips to finally taste your tea, and for the first time tonight, you catch Heeseung do something you don’t expect.

His eyes travel to your lips suddenly, the way they form around the mug, and they focus in on them for a second. Heeseung swallows thickly before forcing his eyes back toward the paintings again, and it makes you stop drinking entirely.

“Do you want to see something cool?” Heeseung blurts, still not looking at you.

“Sure.” You say, expecting him to show you another book or another painting. Instead, he glances over toward his bedroom.

You give him a look, and then he’s rushing to explain himself.

“I have a balcony in my bedroom. You can see the Eiffel Tower from it.” 

You suddenly forget all about what happened with the mug and nod excitedly, already motioning for Heeseung to lead the way. He chuckles and leads you to his bedroom

Heeseung’s bedroom isn’t all that different from the rest of his apartment. His bed has white sheets on it, made perfectly and with no creases, and he has a soft-looking blue blanket folded at the bottom of it. His nightstand isn’t a nightstand at all, just one of those three-tier roller carts someone would use for kitchen storage, filled with items. On the top, there’s a desk lamp, an alarm clock, a candle, and some room sprays. On the second, he has a number of books, all lined up along the length of the tier. On the very bottom, he has lotions, facial cleansers, and cologne bottles. You’re genuinely surprised at this, since you don’t know any other man who has a skincare routine.

His books overflow onto his floor, of course, and they’re stacked along the wall near his closet in neat piles. You wonder if he’s read all of the books he has, or if he’s never actually ready any of them, given a few here and there. Either way, you like the books. You like that he’s not afraid to indulge in something as personal as reading.

Heeseung has two fish tanks, both situated right next to each other, containing one fish in each. The tanks are across from his bed, and the lights from inside reflect onto the walls, casting a mirage of blues, purples, and greens all merged together. The fish inside swim around happily, and you notice that one is smaller than the other.

“Are those Betta fish?” You ask curiously, moving to see the two. One has stripes like a tiger. The other is a beautiful blue color.

“Yeah, they’re not allowed to be in the same tank because they’ll kill each other. But I put their tanks close by so they know that even though they’re separated by foggy glass, they still aren’t alone all the time.”

“That’s sweet.” You reply, grinning at him. He laughs.

“It’s sweet until the male gets all territorial and flares up. It only lasts a few seconds though before he’s back to swimming around. The girl just minds her own business, she doesn’t care too much for him.”

“I’m sure they appreciate the gesture, anyway.”

Heeseung smiles and lets you continue looking around his room.

There’s no desk in the room, just the closet remains, and another door you assume leads to his bathroom, so it’s safe to say that he does all his classwork either in the living room or on his balcony. You can see a small table settled on it, with two chairs as well, and it’s very quaint. Small, but nice. Heeseung’s closet is closed, so you make your way to the balcony entrance, finally ready to see it.

Heeseung opens the small door for you, and you climb out and onto the balcony. It’s black and made of metal, and the table you spotted is situated in the middle of the whole place. You take a seat and watch as Heeseung does the same, only closing the door behind him afterward.

“Ready?” He asks, giving you a knowing look. 

You nod.

Heeseung looks over for a second, before pointing somewhere in the distance, “Eiffel Tower.” 

His face is smug as he waits for your reaction.

You follow his finger and see it. Typically, when people first see the Eiffel Tower, it is closer up, and in a very extravagant manner. But here, right now, the way you’re seeing it, with Heeseung in front of you and the structure looking about five inches tall, you’re glad you’re seeing it this way. Like it’s a small toy, glinting in the distance. Besides, if it were any bigger, it would distract you from the beautiful boy sitting a few inches in front of you, and you’d take this over that any day.

“It’s beautiful.” You comment, watching as the lights on it sparkle, “It’s probably really pretty up close, too.”

“Beautiful things are just as beautiful up close as they are far away,” Heeseung hums, “Beautiful things keep their beauty regardless of the circumstances.”

You look at him, and a few beats pass.

“Where did you learn to talk so eloquently?”

It’s silent for a few seconds, and then Heeseung is doubling over with laughter, face contorting in amusement.

“I’m not- I don’t. I’m not eloquent, I just say everything that I’m thinking.”

You grin at him, “No, I mean it! It’s like every other thing you say is some profound beautiful thing that you have tons of experience living through. You sound like you’ve lived a hundred lives or something.”

Heeseung settles down and shakes his head at you.

“I just say what I’m thinking, really. I always do. It’s kind of a bad habit actually. I don’t try to sound a certain way or think a certain way.”

Knowing that only makes Heeseung more attractive to you, and all you can do is sigh in reply. He grins at that, and moves to tug the sleeves of your dress down a bit more to cover your skin.

“You forgot your jacket inside. It can get cold out here sometimes.”

“That’s your jacket,” You correct him, moving to rub your hands over your arms now, “You owned it first, remember?”

Heeseung wastes no time in slipping his purple hoodie off and handing it to you, leaving you just as breathless as the first time. He motions for you to take it.

“What-?”

“You’re cold, put it on.” He gives you soft eyes and motions for you to take it again.

“Heeseung, you really must like freezing.”

You take the hoodie from him and pull it over your body. The fabric pools around you, warm and soft, and it smells even more amazing then it feels.

“I run warm.” Heeseung lies, and you can see the happiness in his face as the fabric finally settles on you.

The nighttime air and sounds of the city are the only source of ambience to be heard for a few minutes, and your mind is back to thinking about where you should be instead of here. You should be back at the hotel. You should have been back hours ago, and yet. You know your husband is going to be an angry mess, declaring you tell him all about where you were and why you didn’t come back on time, but you couldn’t care less in this moment.

“What are you thinking about?” Heeseung suddenly asks from across the table. When you look at him again, he looks exactly like he did at the restaurant. His hair is illuminated by the street lights, his expression is gentle, and he looks like he means absolutely no harm. He looks caring. He looks like someone you’d like to look at forever.

“I’m just thinking about how strange it is that I’m here right now.”

He leans forward in curiosity, resting his arms on the table.

“As opposed to where?”

“Anywhere,” You say, “Out of all the places I could be in Paris. A cafe, a cab, or even the hotel I should have been back at already. Out of everywhere in Paris, I’m here, with you, on your balcony. It’s just not where I thought I’d be tonight, that’s all.”

“Are you okay with being here?” Heeseung asks, generosity lacing his words.

“I’m okay with being here,” You nod, “Are you okay with having me here?”

“I wanted you here since I met you.” He replies quickly, and it makes your breath catch in your throat.

Heeseung realizes his words and backtracks, “That didn’t come out right.” He laughs at himself, and then tries again. “I’m glad you’re here, and you being here is something that crossed my mind. And I don’t mean here, like, my apartment. I mean here with me. I wanted you with me since we met, wherever it was.”

It takes you a few seconds to process what he’s just said, and you’re trying not to overthink its implications too much. He didn’t mean it the way you think he did, and even if did, it wouldn’t matter. Because it is Heeseung, and you are you, and there is no deeper meaning behind it.

The next time you glance back up at Heeseung, he’s sipping on his tea. He meets your eyes over the cup, and you glance down again. He can sense your hesitancy, so he does what he does best. He sits up straighter, lets his smile finally form across his lips, and begins speaking to you again.

“I think my cup of tea is probably better than your cup of tea.”

You’re confused as you look at him, and then you giggle.

“It’s literally the same cup of tea.”

“Mm, no, I don’t think so.” Heeseung shakes his head and swishes his tea around in his mug like it’s a fine wine. He takes another sip and lets out a sigh afterward, like he’s just tasted gold.

“Mine is definitely better. It tastes like a million bucks.”

“It’s the same cup of tea!” You throw your head back in laughter at the dramatic facial expressions he begins making, and then he shakes his head furiously after a second, trying to prove his claim.

“No, seriously! I swear mine’s probably better than yours. Come over here and try it.”

Heeseung holds the cup up, and the last of your laughter leaves your lips as you move forward, closer to him. You don’t even hesitate.

Heeseung holds the cup, lifting it up to your lips gently. You wrap your lips along the edge and drink the tea, daring to look into his eyes as you do. Heeseung holds eye contact as you drink from it, and it’s strangely intimate. The tea tastes the exact same, but you over exaggerate your features to make it look like it’s actually better than yours. The way Heeseung’s eyes glint makes it worth it, somehow. It’s only once you settle back into your chair, and he into his, that you notice the rose color dusting his cheeks and nose.

“It’s good tea. Might be better than mine, actually.”

“I told you.” He says cutely, taking another drink. You shake your head in amusement before looking back out toward the city.

“So you study English, is what you said?” You change the topic, actually very interested in knowing more about the dark-haired boy sitting across from you. He perks up a bit and nods, clearing his throat before speaking again.

“That, I do.”

You nod and let him go on.

“English is exciting to me because I can basically write what I want, and I get more freedom that way than I would than with, say, Journalism. All that is is someone bossing you around and telling you what to write. English.”

“Media is sort of my fun minor. I don’t want to be job-less, so if English falls through or something, I can always work in creative media or advertising. I’m lucky enough to find both pretty enjoyable.”

You nod at him, “I like that. I like that you’ve given yourself options.”

“Thank you.” He says honestly, giving you a pretty grin.

“So what about you?” He asks, “What do you do?”

“I actually don’t really work at the moment.”

Heeseung looks intrigued, and sits up straighter.

“You don’t work? How can you afford being in Paris, then?” He giggles cutely like he wants to know the big secret, and you try to figure out a way to word it.

On one hand, you could lie to Heeseung. You could lie to him and make up an elaborate excuse as to how you’re here, how you can afford it, how how how.

On the other hand, you’d never want to lie to Heeseung, not starting now and probably not ever. This is the reason for what you say next.

Your hands shake again, just as they did earlier, when you finally say it out loud.

“I’m married, actually.”

Heeseung pales, and it’s the first time all night you’ve seen him look genuinely upset.

A few seconds pass before he starts scrambling for his words. It’s not some big moment where the buildings nearby come crashing down. It’s not a sentence that triggers tsunamis or earthquakes around the two of you. In fact, the only implication that the universe even cares about what you said, is a random car alarm, which goes off annoyingly in the distance before it’s switched off by its owner. Heeseung begins to look flushed after a few seconds.

“You... I didn’t know. You’re not… uh- not wearing a-”

You pull your necklace with your wedding band attached to it out from under your dress neckline and Heeseung’s hoodie and show it to him easily; the metal glinting under the moonlight lamely. He inspects it, and then nods, like it’s all he can do.

“How long?” He asks softly, meeting your eyes again.

“A year,” You say, shoving the necklace back down your front, “Just last month.”

“So you got married in October.” Heeseung notes. You nod.

“My husband wanted an autumn themed wedding.”

“And you?” He asks. You give him a questioning look.

“What did you want?”

“I wanted to say no.” You blurt out honestly before you can stop yourself, and even Heeseung looks shocked at your words.

“I didn’t want to marry him.” But you don’t know why you’re telling Heeseung this. He looks at you like he’s trying to figure it all out - like he’s trying to figure you all out - except he can’t. He can’t because he doesn’t know how. At least, not in this moment.

“I don’t know why I’m telling you this,” You say truthfully, setting your mug down and pulling at the sleeves of Heeseung’s hoodie, “I feel bad for even being in this situation, honestly. It’s like, I don’t want you to think of me as the kind of person who leaves her husband and sees random guys she’s just met. I’m not - I’ve never-”

“I don’t think that.” Heeseung cuts you off, making you look at him.

“I don’t think you’re any of those things. I think you were a considerate person who brought my license back to me, and who I ended up getting along with. That’s what I think of you.”

“Is that all you think of me?” You dare to ask him, and at this point, you know you’re pushing it. You’re pushing the limits between what you should be saying to Heeseung and what you’ve been wondering all night. With what started at the restaurant when he slipped the paper with your name into his pocket, and what continued when he stared at your lips not once, but twice.

Heeseung stares down at the table, and you can practically see his conflicting thoughts. He is rubbing his hand along the fabric of his sweatpants, tracing the stitching absentmindedly,  and he looks too timid to speak.

“I think…” He starts, still not making eye contact with you, “I think that you’re nice, and pretty, and married. And I think being here probably would make your husband very unhappy.”

What he said isn’t a lie, but it doesn’t make the sinking feeling in your stomach any less intense. You know your husband would hate you being here, which makes it that much harder to gather the courage to go back. You don’t expect Heeseung to understand the feeling, but you give him the benefit of the doubt anyway.

“I don’t want to go back to him tonight.”

Heeseung finally looks up at you, eyes dark. He looks like he’s confused, conflicted. Like he wants one thing but knows he should do another. He looks exactly how you feel. And then, he speaks.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea. Where would you go?”

Except he doesn’t say it like a question. He says it like he already knows. Because he does - you both do.

“I could pay you to stay here for the night.”

At this, Heeseung snorts a bit. 

“I’m not a hotel, Y/N.” He doesn’t say it in a mean way, just in a truthful way. His words are still kind, and you know that he still isn’t judging you - that he hasn’t once this whole night.

“I don’t know if you staying here would be a good idea.”

“It wouldn’t,” You confirm, “But it’s either that, or sleep in some park somewhere.”

You’re half kidding, but you’ll do it if you have to. You really don’t want to go back to that damned hotel.

Heeseung laughs, and then he’s standing, moving over to get closer to you. You don’t know what he’s doing, and you aren’t even sure if he does either. But then he moves to pull you gently into a standing position by the sleeves of his hoodie you’re wearing, and then takes you inside without another word. The mugs are abandoned on the table, two sat next to each other, and then Heeseung is closing the door behind the two of you.

“What are we doing?” You ask in confusion, finally moving further away from the balcony door.

“Well, I’m setting up the bed for you. You’re standing there gawking.”

You’re about to snap back with something witty, but are shut up quickly as Heeseung opens up his closet and reaches for some more blankets on the top shelf. The bottom of his t-shirt lifts up, just enough to show his tanned skin, and you suddenly find yourself speechless as you focus on his body. His skin looks soft, and the dimples at the bottom of his back catch your attention before he’s turning and his shirt is falling back to its regular position again.

He doesn’t say anything else to you as he lays some more blankets out on the bed, 

You move to help, and then you’re both setting up the bed in silence. The thought of Heeseung sleeping in the same bed as you makes heat pool in your stomach, but then you discard the thought. You know for a fact that it won’t be happening, and you internally scold yourself for even letting the thought cross your mind.

“I can sleep on the couch, if it’s easier.” You say finally, glancing up at him. He shakes his head.

“I can sleep on the couch. Besides, I sleep in my bed every night, it won’t hurt me at all to sleep on the couch for just one night.”

Just one night, the phrase bounces around in your head, and you have to actively remind yourself that this will not be happening again. You hope the fact that it’s even happening now won’t ruin the dynamic you two have easily slipped into, and then your brain lurches into overdrive suddenly. After tonight, will you even see Heeseung again?

“Is everything okay?” He asks, finally done with the blankets now. You look back up at him and nod.

“Yeah I just… I get nightmares sometimes. I just thought you should know, in case I make noise or whatever.”

You hate that you feel awkward now. Of course, it’s not Heeseung’s fault - he hasn’t changed or acted differently at all - it’s you. It’s the internal battle you’re suddenly realizing. It’s you that’s acting differently now.

Your passing statement isn’t one you think Heeseung will take too seriously, but then he’s stopping what he’s doing and standing still, studying you.

You look back at him now, trying to figure out if you said something wrong.

“I can sleep on the floor, if it’ll make you feel safer. Nightmares can get scary, especially if you wake up alone.”

You want to say no, but you also feel that same emotion crawling its way back into you. Wanting Heeseung close to you. You felt it at the restaurant and you feel it now. You don’t know why it’s so strong suddenly.

“I can sleep on the floor, if you want. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

“Is this a pride thing?” Heeseung finally asks, giving you a wide grin. He looks like he’s about to laugh again.

“What?” You ask, tilting your head a bit.

“You know, like, you don’t want me sleeping anywhere that isn’t my bed, but you also don’t want to sleep on the floor. Not really.”

��It’s not a pride thing. I really just don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

He hums before looking around his room, finally spotting something in his closet before he moves to take it out. It’s a thin body pillow, as long as his torso, and pink.

“What if we both sleep in the bed and just wedge this between the two of us. That way I’m here if you have a nightmare, and neither of us has to have a sore back from sleeping on a wooden floor.”

You want to laugh at his proposal, but in the moment, it seems reasonable. You certainly don’t want to sleep on the floor, and you don’t want Heeseung to sleep on it either. Without another comment, you nod at him. He nods back silently before pulling the bed sheets down and sorting out the pillows.

After the bed is ready, he goes back to the closet and pulls out a pair of sweats. He hands them to you easily, and you take them without looking at him.

“I’m going to go turn all the lights off and check the front door. Let me know when you’re ready.”

Once he shuts the bedroom door behind him, you finally realize what you’re doing. You realize that for the first time in your life, you’re going to be sleeping in a bed with another man who isn’t your husband. You’re going to be near another man, in bed. And you’re going to be spending the night with this man.

You realize, suddenly, that the feeling isn’t a bad one. It’s a peaceful one. And one that makes your stomach do flips.

You get dressed into Heeseung’s sweats easily, and you can’t stop grinning because of how much his clothes smell like him. Heeseung smells like vanilla and patchouli, and the scent almost makes you lightheaded. 

A soft knock sounds from behind the door after a few more moments, and you let Heeseung know that it’s okay to come back in. He enters with two glasses of water, and hands you one easily.

“I always get thirsty at night, so I figured you might too.”

You’re practically floored at Heeseung’s attentiveness, but all you can do is thank him as you set the glass on the cart tier carefully. He takes a small sip from his and then sets it on the floor, careful not to spill it before he finally turns out all the lights in the bedroom, casting it into darkness. The moonlight spills in from the open window, and it casts the walls and furniture in a soft glow. You both move to lie down in the bed, and Heeseung gently sets the pillow in between both of you. 

“I’m here if you need me. Right here.” Heeseung whispers into the darkness, and you go over how strange this whole scenario is. You remember the Heeseung at the restaurant, and how he’s the same Heeseung you’re lying in a bed with now. Only inches separate the two of you now, and it almost makes your skin dot with goosebumps.

“Thank you.” You say, eyes focusing on the ceiling naturally.

“It’s no problem. Like I said, waking up alone can be scary.”

A few beats pass, and all you feel is Heeseung’s body warmth, radiating onto you, even through the thin pillow.

“Goodnight, Heeseung.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

And then the minutes pass. 

They feel like hours, though, and you don’t know if Heeseung is actually asleep or not after around fifteen minutes. 

You can hear his steady breathing, and it doesn’t sound like he’s forcing it or anything, but you never know. You decide then to just try and sleep.

And you would have, if you hadn’t suddenly felt Heeseung’s hand, gently make its way under the body pillow and onto your side.

You feel your heart begin to race, your breathing following close behind as you realize that Heeseung isn’t asleep, he’s very much awake.

And he’s trying to hold your hand.

A million thoughts race through your head as your fingers itch to grab his. A million questions about your husband, about Heeseung, about what will happen in the morning after this is all said and done.

Finally, after an internal battle of a lifetime, and after you’re sure Heeseung is about to just retract his hand back to his side, you force yourself to just take the leap and slot your fingers into his.

Heeseung’s hand is as warm as you expect it to be, and you hear him take in a shaky breath as your palm finally presses against his. 

Neither of you do anything. Neither of you try to say anything, or try to justify it in any way. You do nothing, except stay like that. 

But in that moment, somehow, just doing that seems to be enough.

[basicallywhiterice]

mood ring (vernon choi)

Pairing: Vernon (Hansol) Choi x reader

Genre: Angst, fluff, highschool!au, swimmer!au, childhood best friends to lovers

Summary: Your relationship with Vernon has always been blue: cool, calm, and relaxing. When it changes colors, your world turns upside down. Good thing Vernon’s here to help you navigate through it all.

Alternatively titled: Your love story with Vernon, told through your friendships (or: in which you really love your friends)

Word count: 21k

Warnings: cussing

a/n: This fic is my baby. These characters are my babies. Ask me about them here, or check out the hashtag ‘extras:mr’ for more! Crossposted on ao3 here!

(7:53 pm) jules vern(e): i just made it home and im pretty sure sofias eaten half of the ice cream already jules vern(e): ur lucky ur an only child you: I still have a ton left over if you run out you: The perks of having lactose-intolerant parents lol

Your phone buzzes with another incoming text from Vernon, but you drop it and focus on calming your erratic heartbeat. In order to compose yourself, your hand subconsciously flies to the base of your neck, where your fingers close around the most important piece of jewelry in your life.

It’s a mood ring from the mall. Circular, with color indicators wrapping around a metal band, it looks a little childish compared to everything else you wear. After eleven years, its colors only range from light pink to red, but you don’t mind.

You don’t mind because Vernon gave it to you.

You met Vernon on the first day of first grade. Two weeks later, once you declared that you were best friends, he gave you the mood ring while kneeling. A little weirded out by the possibility of him proposing, you panicked and ran away, but he caught up to you and explained that he tripped over his shoelaces and landed on one knee. (Even as a kid, Vernon was very on-brand.) So of course you accepted. Though the mood ring was too big for your six-year-old fingers, you looped it through a cord and wore it that way ever since.

In middle school, you met Joshua, and in high school, Tzuyu, Minghao, and Junhui joined your close-knit friend group. All six of you bonded over joining the swim team together in freshman year. Tzuyu was a welcome addition, and Minghao instantly clicked with you, while Junhui took a little longer to warm up to the trio consisting of you, Vernon, and Joshua.

And Vernon… Vernon is something else entirely.

That mood ring, solidifying him as a permanent fixture in your life, has accompanied you throughout your friendship with him, up until now, when you’ve realized: you like him. Really like him, as a best friend and so much more. You have no qualms accepting that, because it just makes sense after all the years you’ve spent with him, the way he looks at you when you have all his attention, his gaze focused enough to form a blush on your face.

You admitted it to yourself over the summer, two hours before he came home from a six-week summer program. He came straight to your house for dinner after he arrived, asking about your internship before enthusiastically launching into a story about his program. Later, he asked if you missed him, to which you replied with a smack on his arm and a muttered ‘shut up and tell me more about your roommate’s underground rap career’. He just laughed, reminding you of your mutual promise not to keep anything from each other, before you smacked him again, said yes, and made him continue talking about how Mark Lee (his roommate who happened to live in your state) held an impromptu concert during the program’s talent show due to popular demand.

There was nothing uniquely special about that moment, but if you weren’t a goner before, then you sure were after.

Your current, easygoing relationship with Vernon is going to change into something else, sooner or later, but you know each other so well that you’ll be friends first. You’ll always be friends first, and the strength of your bond can withstand any obstacles that might come in the way.

At least, that’s what you hope.

You’ve thought about what to do for a couple of months now, and you’ve decided not to wait for this change to come to you. No, you’re doing this on your own terms instead of sitting around and pining indefinitely.

Right now, it’s half an hour after your weekly Saturday hangout with Vernon—you churned homemade ice cream this time—and your time spent with him has strengthened your determination. You grab your phone, barely glancing at his latest texts, and hover over his contact, thumb wavering before determinedly pressing the video call button. When he picks up, you can barely hear him over the pounding in your ears. You have to set your phone down because your hands are shaking from your nerves. But still, you’re going through with this.

“Hey, Vernon? I have something to tell you…”

Vernon takes it with a surprising amount of maturity. He thanks you for confessing and being open with him, reassures you that you’ll always be friends, and… doesn’t outright reject you.

“I’m not opposed to trying and seeing if we can, y’know, date each other,” he tells you. “I just need time to think about this. It’s new to me. Does that make sense?”

You nod awkwardly and hang up soon after with the excuse of homework. It’s a flimsy excuse, and you’re sure Vernon can see through it, but he doesn’t object. And so you spend the rest of the weekend giving Vernon space, something that makes your text conversations stiff and your mind regretful.

On Monday morning, instead of picking Vernon up like normal, Joshua drives you to school. It’s not entirely an excuse to avoid Vernon, since you’re going to the library with Joshua later in the day to work on a Government and Politics project, but… actually, yeah, that’s exactly what it is. But you choose not to dwindle on that.

The rest of the day passes rather uneventfully. Vernon still sits next to you in fifth period Literature, and you manage to converse about the horrible math teacher you dealt with last year that he dealt with last period. But you both haven’t forgotten about your confession, and Vernon addresses it after swim practice.

He’s sitting on one of the benches near the pool’s entrance. “Hey, y/n. Can we talk?”

The October wind isn’t particularly chilly, but you stuff your hands in your cardigan’s pockets and hug it closer to you anyways. When you almost stumble, you focus on keeping your steps steady as you walk toward him. “What’s up?”

“So, I’m done thinking, and I decided that I wanna try, uh… taking you out, I guess is the term? And seeing if we’d be good at being more than friends?”

You’re expecting some sort of rejection, so Vernon’s words throw you off. “What? I… yeah, it would be nice to try that…”

Vernon pats the bench next to him, and you sit down beside him. “Before you decide, though, I think we should both be on the same page. So I want you to know that…” He rubs his hands on his shorts, then continues. “Towards the end of the summer, I told Tzuyu that I liked her.”

“Oh no,” you immediately say. Around that time, Tzuyu started dating Joshua, and you urged them both to make a move for an entire month before they finally got together. You had no idea Vernon was part of the equation.

“I know, it was like the day after they started dating, and I felt horrible once I found out. And now I’m pretty much over her, but I just wanted to let you know, in case that changes your mind.”

“Ah. What do you mean by you’re ‘pretty much over her’?” That wording throws you off a little, and you can’t decide what to do without knowing what it means.

“I mean that I’ve had a few months to get over her, and I’m pretty sure that I am, but I’m not 100% sure because feelings are messy, you know? I know that sounds bad, but the way I felt about her back then is totally different from how I feel about her now.”

He’s right: it does sound bad. But you figure it can’t hurt to try being more than friends, and besides, you’ll have the choice to end things if you think it’s a bad idea. “I believe you. So… if we’re gonna do this, what’s our relationship going to be called? And we’ll be open with each other to see if we want to continue, right? And even if we end this, we’ll still be friends, won’t we?”

“Of course we’ll be open with each other, and of course we’ll always be friends. And… I think since we’re not in a full-fledged relationship, we’ll be friends, right? We’ll still do things as friends, since that’s what we’ve always been, but we can change the label at any time.”

Friends. It makes sense to start out with low commitment, but a small part of your brain was hoping for something more. Still, you can’t think of a good label for an experimentation stage, so you go along with it. “Ok. Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Yes, I’m sure. Y/n, you trust me, right?”

“I do! I just don’t want you to lead me on or anything. I feel like...” You lick your lips. “What if you’re not over Tzuyu and you’re trying to move on by using me? That’s not going to work.”

He reaches out, hand brushing against yours as it inches up your arm. He squeezes your elbow. “I totally understand your worries, and I can tell you it’s not like that. I want to try this, and I would never use you like that. You’re important to me. You’re my friend. I promise.” Lifting his right hand, he draws an “x” over his chest as he says, “Cross my heart and everything.”

“Alright. As long as you’re ok with this.” You nod slowly.

“I am.” Slowly, he retracts his hand until he holds your right hand. “Is this ok?”

You nod and he squeezes it gently. You hope he doesn’t notice how shaky your hand gets from that simple action. The two of you sit there in silence, listening to some teachers driving away in their cars, until Tzuyu exits the pool building.

She glances down at your hands and does a once-over. “Hey guys. Is the swim team going to get a second couple?”

Vernon blushes, loosening his grip on your hand and stammering. “Haha, we’re, uh, not sure yet.”

She raises an eyebrow, then walks in front of you. “Well, still.” Patting your shoulder with the tips of her fingers, she beams at Vernon. “You guys are cute,” she says, ruffling his damp hair. Vernon turns even redder, and you feel like the world’s biggest idiot for not anticipating this.

At that moment, Joshua leaves the building, strolling up to Tzuyu and planting a kiss on her forehead. “Hey.” She giggles. Vernon stares. Turning his attention toward you, Joshua asks, “Hey, y/n. You ready to go to the library?”

“Yeah.” You slip your hand away from Vernon’s and stand, grabbing your backpack. “Lead the way.”

You say your goodbyes and follow Joshua to his car, eyes lingering on Vernon and Tzuyu walking to the bus stop. He’s still red in the face, and she seems not entirely displeased with that. You look away.

As you walk, you ask how Joshua’s mom’s doing, and he continues talking about his family. When he pauses to start his car, you take the opportunity to pull out your phone and text Vernon.

(5:06 pm) you: You don’t have to do this Vern, I understand you: We might be better off not trying this

(5:09 pm) jules vern(e): i want to jules vern(e): i promise jules vern(e): its just so different. help me adjust?

(5:02 pm) nerdier than thou: Woah dude are you and Vernon finally getting together (delivered)

“Are you and Vernon dating?”

Based on Joshua’s sideways glances, his question has been on the tip of his tongue for the past forty minutes before it tumbles out onto your lap. That’s where you stare, unable to meet his gaze without blushing or grinning like a lunatic.

“I don’t know… sort of, but not really.”

He stops typing, pushing his laptop away. “What do you mean, sort of? Either you are, or you’re not.”

You turn your head toward him. When you don’t find any traces of judgment on his face, you shrug. “We haven’t… defined anything, so I guess not.”

“Hm. But you want to date him, don’t you?”

You can never lie to Joshua. “How long have you known?”

He just laughs. “Probably before you did, to be honest. I could definitely tell by the end of last year. But yeah, you guys are cute together, and I hope you define it soon.”

“I hope so too, Josh. I can talk to you about this, right? The last time I went through this was back in ninth grade with Samuel.” Samuel moved away at the end of ninth grade, long after you split up. You knew you were better off as friends, and it just felt right once your relationship was no longer romantic. Even so, it still hurt when he admitted he had a crush on Jina when you broke up. You don’t blame him—she was pretty and friendly to everyone, including Samuel.

Still. That was in ninth grade, and it doesn’t bother you anymore, but that’s exactly what you’re worried about with Vernon.

Joshua snaps you out of your reverie. “Of course, I’ve been asking you for relationship advice too, haven’t I?”

“Oh yeah, how are you and Tzuyu doing?” You don’t think it’s your place to directly ask him how he feels about Tzuyu and Vernon, so you settle on a more innocuous question. This way, you figure, Joshua chooses how much he’s willing to share with you.

“We’re doing great,” he says, and then he stops and grins as a blush creeps up his cheeks. Before you can tease him for being whipped, he hurries on. “Um, it’s not perfect—since, y’know, life! And stress! But we’re working on it together.” His lovestruck smile returns in full force and he ducks his head.

“Aww, cute. You guys are lucky to have a relationship like that.” With Joshua’s words, your doubts about how Vernon feels about Tzuyu are somewhat allayed, and you make a note not to bring it up with Joshua again. If Joshua’s happily working on it together with Tzuyu in an actual, defined relationship, you and Vernon can surely do the same.

Joshua clears his throat, though his blush remains on his face. “Anyways, we should get done with the last few slides for our project, since they’re closing soon. Then you can ask me anything, or you can just talk about your feelings and I’ll listen.”

“Bro… thank you.”

He laughs. “No problem… bro.”

An hour later, after you’re done eating dinner at Joshua’s house, you settle down to ask for situationship advice—you’re not planning on bogging him down with every detail, though, since he’s so close to Vernon; Mina’s your go-to friend about all things Vernon-related. Before you begin, you both get a notification from your swim team groupchat for seniors.

[the six senior citizens of the swim squad]

(7:19 pm) chewy granola bar: Here’s the schedule for this week’s meet chewy granola bar: *1 image attached* ac(t)orman: The first meet of this season! nerdier than thou: Thank you, team captain Tzuyu and team captain Junhui chewy granola bar: No problem, team member Joshua nerdier than thou: ❤️ 

(7:20 pm) OctOpOdes: please stop, team captain Tzuyu and team member Joshua nerdier than thou: No❤️ chewy granola bar: My apologies, team member Minghao chewy granola bar: Ok why are we doing this team member whoever stuff nerdier than thou: Why not OctOpOdes: also we need a better gc name you: You were the one who made it, and you rejected ‘the six senior sSsitizens of the swim squad’, MEANghao OctOpOdes: i pretend i do not see it ac(t)orman: What about the 3 musketeers, but like, doubled ac(t)orman: I am hackerman ac(t)orman: [H]ac(t)[ke](o)rman chewy granola bar: Please stick with ac(t)orman, I had a stroke reading that

(7:21 pm) you: Then that would be 8 people, not 6, bc a fourth dude joined in the book nerdier than thou: That would describe 8 people because someone joins the 3 Musketeers, making them a group of 4 you: Great minds think alike ^^ ac(t)orman: Wait u guys actually did the summer reading? jules vern(e): i vote for ‘the 3 musketeers + 2 nerds’ in that case jules vern(e): u guys can guess who the nerds are :)))

(7:22 pm) OctOpOdes: seconded ac(t)orman: Thirded chewy granola bar: Fourthed! nerdier than thou: FIFTHED you: ANDDDDD SOLD TO THE GENTLEMAN WITH THE (ugly) RED SUNGLASSES jules vern(e): HEY that was a fashion statement

(7:23 pm) OctOpOdes: it wasn’t a very good one OctOpOdes: those sunglasses were an atrocity, sorry vern you: Seconded

*jules vern(e) named the group ‘the 3 musketeers + 2 haters’*

jules vern(e): haters gonna hate jules vern(e): also ouch y/n, i was gonna let u turn me into an eboy on saturday, and sofias giving me her black nail polish, but i guess ill tell her u canceled you: Noooooo omg your sunglasses were the pinnacle of fashion you: I’m sowwy 🥺👉👈

(7:24 pm) nerdier than thou: Please stop, team member y/n

Sadly, the universe will not let you avoid Vernon forever, and you find yourself picking him up for school on Wednesday morning. Awkward silence descends after you greet each other. After what feels like an eternity of both of you sneaking glances at each other and looking away, you finally speak up.

“How are you?”

“I’m good. Uh, Mark Lee goes to the high school for our meet on Friday, so he’s gonna stay and watch us afterschool.”

“Oh cool, I can finally meet the legendary rap god.”

Vernon chuckles. “Yeah, he’s a great dude. How are you?”

“I’m excited too.” When the car grows silent once again, you brace yourself and ask, “How are you feeling about… us?”

“It’s nice to do this together, as friends, instead of being super uncertain.”

Very calmly, you grip the steering wheel tighter. There it is, the word ‘friends’, serving as a painful reminder that despite whatever it is you’re doing, Vernon’s probably never going to see you as something more. Still, you manage to keep your voice cheery. “Yep. Great friends. Hahaha.”

You stop at a red light and glance over at Vernon, who grins toothily. “Yeah, I’m glad we’re starting with some sense of familiarity. You know, I was talking to Tzuyu about this yesterday, and she agreed with that. She gives really good advice too. I felt so much better after talking to her.”

Very calmly, you press the brake harder. After witnessing the effect Tzuyu had on him on Monday—and suspecting that maybe, just maybe, some of her actions are meant to get that reaction from him—you could do without hearing Vernon gush about hanging out with her. Still, you try to give her the benefit of the doubt. “Does Josh know you guys hung out?”

“Yeah, they were going to go to one of the lakes together so she could be near the water but not swimming in it, since she’s nervous about signing next month—y’know, for college scholarships and stuff. But then Joshua had a last-minute choir practice for an audition, so I went with her instead. It was so relaxing. We were there for a couple of hours, and she asked if I wanted to do it again on Saturday.”

Very calmly, you almost crash the car. Saturdays are your days together, and despite how childish it sounds, you don’t want to give that up. Ever. Still, it’s not like Tzuyu knows about this, and Vernon’s free to choose how he spends his time. You try to keep a neutral tone as you ask, “Sounds fun. What time are you going there Saturday?”

“Dude, I’m not going on Saturday. Saturdays are for us, silly. Plus, I’m not giving up that eboy transformation.”

The light turns green, and you press the gas pedal, but you’re actually calm this time. “Wow, you only care about getting a makeover. I see how it is,” you joke, fighting down a wide smile and biting back a giggle as you slump back in relief.

“Oh no, you found out that our decade of friendship was all for an eboy transformation. Help, what do I do now?”

The rest of the car ride is filled with jokes and earnest conversation. You’ve successfully dissipated the awkward silence, and you don’t fall back into it at lunch, in fifth period Lit, or afterschool at swim practice. Tzuyu’s still a little too friendly with him, you think as she rests her hand on his shoulder while laughing, but it’s small enough for you to brush it off. Plus, Joshua’s there laughing along as well. You do your very best to get over yourself.

The car ride back home with Vernon is no longer awkward, and he even clasps your hand and squeezes it before exiting your car.

You drive all the way home with an uncontrollable grin on your face.

(2:01 pm) OctOpOdes: some rando dmed me a month ago asking if you’re single and if you don’t hurry up i’m giving them your number you: You would never, octopus boy OctOpOdes: 😑 you’re right OctOpOdes: but still, kindly hurry tf up you: Also, since when did ~I~ get creepy fans OctOpOdes: it’s from the ootd you were last month OctOpOdes: now hurry up

(2:02 pm) you: I’m literally one minute late OctOpOdes: not anymore you: A bit fussy for someone with 60k followers, aren’t we OctOpOdes: still 60k more than you

Vernon can pull off the eboy look, but Minghao is an actual eboy in 30% of his Instagram posts. And he absolutely owns that look—you’re willing to bet that at least ten thousand of his followers are active eboy enthusiasts. He recruits you to photograph a fall photoshoot over the last weekend of November. You’re a sucker for his aesthetic and he’s no slouch with a camera, so who are you to say no?

After you’re done capturing shots of him in front of your house on the sidewalk, he convinces you to pose with him for a few pictures as well. You then relocate to a nearby forest that Minghao’s fond of. There’s one family hiking in the distance that almost photobombs him once or twice, but all in all, it goes pretty well.

You’re no stranger to being behind the camera, but when Minghao instructs you on how to pose—an extended arm here, a bent leg there—you’re reminded how stiff you feel in front of it. As always, though, Minghao keeps encouraging you, and you relax once he makes you laugh. And, as always, he ends up getting caught up in the details.

“Hey Minghao, I think we should wrap this up,” you suggest as you crouch into a new pose.

“Yeah, one moment. Let me get the lighting right for this shot.”

“I’m sure it looks great. I think we should stop before you run out of storage.”

“Yeah, lean forward a little.”

“Minghao!” You do as he says, but get up and walk forward immediately after he’s gotten a few shots. He gently releases the camera and holds his hands up in mock surrender. Per tradition, you find a nearby place to sit—in this case, a picnic table—and go through the pictures together, selecting a few final shots for the gram.

You sit on the tabletop, scanning Minghao’s camera roll and pointing out the pictures you like as he nods and listens. He sends you ten of your favorite solo shots. Afterward, he puts his camera away and you just talk.

When there’s a pause in the conversation, he asks, “Have you talked to Tzuyu lately?”

Damn, he’s observant. You haven’t told him anything about the Vernon/Tzuyu/you situation in order to preserve your friend group, but he still caught on. “Yeah, why do you ask?”

“Just curious. You’re usually stuck by her side at swim meets, but for the past few meets, you seemed kinda… I don’t know, indifferent? If that’s the word? You know, you always check up on me, but you haven’t been doing that for yourself recently. I don’t want you to neglect your friends because of stress. Not to be a hypocrite, though.”

You laugh at his last sentence. “Yeah, I’m just worried about early decision results.” That’s not a lie—you’ll find out your college early decision results in a couple of weeks, and if you get rejected, you’ll have to slog through piles of work for regular decision applications. Not to mention, that would mean rejection from your dream school. But college isn’t the only thing on your mind, even though Tzuyu’s behavior has long since stopped making you worry, and you’re slowly reconnecting with her.

“Ugh, why did you have to remind me?” Minghao also applied early decision, hoping to get into NYU. You’re amazed at how he found the time to craft such a compelling application with all the dance practices, Instagram photoshoots, swim training, and homework crowding up his schedule, on top of achieving a semi-healthy sleep schedule. What a mad lad.

“You mean, remind you of the inevitable acceptance letter you’re getting in a few weeks?”

He just sighs, leaning back to lie down on the table. You follow suit, lying down next to him, staying quiet until he speaks up. “I’m just worried. I know they only showed me the good parts when I toured their campus, but it was so fucking awesome. It felt like the perfect fit for me. And I know you can succeed no matter where you go to college, but… I want to go there so bad. And they’re in NYC. And they have a campus in Shanghai. Shanghai!”

You can’t help but chuckle. NYU’s Shanghai campus is something Minghao’s managed to get you excited about over the last few months, and you’re not even applying there. “I know, Hao. But I’m so proud of you no matter what happens. I know how amazing of a person you are, and I’ve spent years with you compared to the minutes admission officers get. Plus, if they somehow end up rejecting you, that says more about their foolishness than your worth. And if that happens, you can always go to a different undergrad school and get your master’s or doctor’s there later—and in Shanghai too, if you still want to go there. You have so many options.”

A puff of air escapes from his lips, but he grudgingly says, “You’re right. That applies to you too, got it? I’m horrible with motivational speeches, so just remember that for yourself.”

“That’s a lie, you big softy.” You turn your head to see a grin creeping up his face, and you gently shove his shoulder. “And what you said earlier—remembering to take care of yourself—that applies to you too. Junhui tells me you’ve been scheduling extra dance practices and the troupe is about to revolt.”

“They would never,” he mutters. “They love me too much.”

“If you love them, give them a break. C’mon, captain.”

He groans half-heartedly, so you can tell he’s thinking about it. You let him weigh his options in the calm silence that follows, closing your eyes and trying to mold into the much-too-hard tabletop. You give up when you hear Minghao’s jacket rustle as he sits up. “You may or not be right,” he admits as you sit up and slide off the table.

“Oh, please. I’m always right. Is it too cold for froyo?” you ask as he stands up. “Or do you want to get something warm from one of the bakeries downtown?”

“The place with the mini pies is really good, and they always smell delicious. You’ll never catch them lacking. Oh, but the Dutch bakery is good too.”

“We have time, we can go to both.”

Minghao carefully packs up his camera as you try to convince him to get TikTok (“TikTok? Isn’t it getting banned? Besides, the eboys on there have weak fashion games. I’m not gonna bother.”) and he drives you both downtown. You regret leaving the camera in his car when you find aesthetic scenes to photograph, but you make do with your phone and send some of them to Tzuyu for the school newspaper. Minghao also sends her pictures of the bakeries and pastries, but you accidentally end up spamming her with random, unusable pictures. You can practically feel her exasperation through the phone, but she’s obligated to skim through all your pictures since you’re the photography editor.

On December 15, Minghao gets his acceptance letter the same week you get yours. You’re in his living room when he gets it, and after much hugging and celebration and well-deserved congratulations, you swear you see a tear of joy escape his eye. It’s almost the exact same reaction you had, and the realization makes you smile.

Minghao calls off his hip-hop dance troupe’s extra practice (that he scheduled) and celebrates. Junhui and Tzuyu have time to come over, and the four of you collectively relax, knowing the stress of college admissions is behind you.

And, you think as Minghao waxes poetic about NYU’s campus and the urban life, it’s the perfect conclusion to your college-application frenzy and the perfect beginning for everything that comes after.

Your Saturday hangouts with Vernon have slowly but surely turned into friend-dates. Every week, you do something new—so far, you’ve gone to a pumpkin patch, a skating rink, and a hiking trail. You even took him thrifting for the first time, after you learned Minghao had a last-minute dance troupe practice on the Sunday you planned to thrift with him. Last week, you both had tests to study for, so you just worked in your living room. After dinner, you watched the sunset together, huddled together beneath two fleece blankets. You remember gazing up at the sky, streaked with purple, and wondering: where does this relationship stand? It’s neither a friendly blue nor a romantic pink. Is this all you can ever be?

And then Vernon laced his fingers through yours and pointed to a cloud that looked like the person in The Scream. Since then, holding hands has been a normal occurrence instead of one that’s rarely—and awkwardly—approached.

This week, you’re watching the Nutcracker ballet that Mina’s in as the Sugar Plum Fairy. Vernon holds your hand again, and thankfully, it doesn’t clam up this time. He’s still holding it after the show ends, as you congratulate Mina backstage and give her a bouquet of flowers. “Mina, that was so good! I can’t believe you’re not an actual fairy.”

“Aw, thank you!” She drops her voice and whispers, “Premarital hand holding, yuck,” and you gently poke her side. Letting go of Vernon’s hand, you give her a big hug, which is difficult considering how wide her skirt is, and mutter an embarrassed ‘stop it’ in her ear before stepping away.

“Yeah Mina, you were amazing.” Vernon opts for a one-armed side hug after seeing you struggle to avoid messing up her skirt. “You looked so graceful when most people would’ve fallen on their face.”

“Thank you so much! Let’s hope I don’t fall on my face for tomorrow’s performance too. My parents are going to be recording that.”

“Hey. You don’t have to worry about that. You were absolutely phenomenal, and it’s obvious all your practice paid off.” You give her another hug. This time, she leans forward and flattens down the front of her tutu to make it easier. “I’m so proud of you, girl. Hey, do you want me to take some pictures of you?”

“Yeah, that would be awesome. Vernon, would you mind holding this beautiful bouquet for me?” She hands the flowers to Vernon, then leads you to an area with better lighting.

After a few individual shots, you ask the Mouse King to take a group picture of you three. Mina goes back to the dressing room to change, while you and Vernon wait for her near the entrance.

Vernon examines the bouquet, passing it from hand to hand, then asks, “Hey, how come you never get me flowers?”

You raise one shoulder in a shrug. “I didn’t know you wanted them. I’ll get you a flowerpot the day after Valentine’s Day or something.”

He tilts his head to one side, moving his attention from the flowers to you. “Why the day after?”

“Because Valentine’s Day is a shit holiday that shouldn’t exist. It shouldn’t be the only day you appreciate your loved ones, and you don’t need to celebrate it if you’re in a healthy relationship. I guess it’d be sweet if the consumerist part didn’t ruin it.”

Vernon gapes at you for a second before bursting into laughter. “Oh man, my mom thinks the same way, so my parents always go on a date the weekend after Valentine’s Day instead of on V-Day. And my dad tells us to buy candy the day after during the clearance sales. I’m just surprised hearing the exact same idea come from a different person, you know?”

“Huh, we just don’t really celebrate it at all. Plus, we never got candy after we stopped having class parties in elementary school because my mom says it’s too much sugar. You better get me discounted candy after Valentine’s Day, then,” you playfully demand, jabbing a finger into his shoulder.

“I was planning on it even before you said that.” He grins and passes the bouquet into his left hand, reaching up and lacing his fingers together with yours. You squeeze his hand, then take a deep breath.

“Yeah, so how have things been going with Tzuyu?” It’s an abrupt change in conversation, but as you wait for him to answer, you don’t dread his answer like you did a month ago. Nothing about Tzuyu’s actions could be even misconstrued as flirty anymore, and Vernon doesn’t cast her those lingering glances that you always turned a blind eye to. Your conversations with her are back to normal, and you feel a lot better about your friendship. Things are great, Tzuyu-wise. You just need confirmation from Vernon, and luckily, you’re no longer afraid of what he might say.

“Oh, it’s great. I’ve been talking to her a lot more,” he says and you think yeah, you sure have, but it’s not accompanied with any jealousy or bitterness. It’s more of an objective observation than anything else. “And because I know her a lot better now, I only see her as a friend. It’s like, now that I don’t have to guess what some parts of her personality are like, she’s just a regular person to me instead of someone to crush on.”

“That’s good to hear.” When you look up at Vernon, he’s grinning at you in the way that never fails to make your heart flutter. You don’t even know why it does, seeing as how you were just talking about his romantic attachment to another girl, but Vernon’s smile is unpredictable that way. “Yeah, so. Yeah.”

“Yeah?” His grin melts into a smirk, and you roll your eyes.

“Stop making fun of me, it’s not like you talk any better.”

“I’m not good with words with you, you mean. I’m great with everyone else.”

“Oh, really. What makes me so special, hmm?” You smile sweetly at him, but you’re surprised when his cheeks turn red and he looks away.

He lifts his right hand toward his neck, but stops when he realizes he’s holding the bouquet. “A lot of things,” he mumbles, still not looking at you. What on Earth. He clears his throat. “So what was your favorite dance… in there?”

You figure as long as you’re making progress in your relationship (is it even a relationship?), you can deal with some awkwardness from Vernon. You let him drop the subject. “You know I’m gonna say Mina’s. What kind of a friend do you think I am?”

You discuss the ballet for a few more minutes, stopping when Mina exits. You help carry her costume bag and Vernon carries her makeup case, leaving her to hold her bouquet of flowers. Vernon points to your car in the parking lot, and you merge with the crowd of people heading in that direction.

“So, Mina, are you just focusing on your Juilliard audition after the Nutcracker is done? Or do you have dances for competition team too?”

“I still have dances for the team, but I’ll spend a lot more time preparing for the audition. It’s still highkey nervewracking, though. It’s so competitive.”

“Hey, when the San Francisco Ballet is your backup plan, you know you’re doing things right.”

“You make it sound like I’m getting a lead role or something.” She waves it off, but she looks pleased, and that makes you pleased. “Anyways, how have you guys been?”

You’re a few yards away from your car, and you fumble with your keys and open the trunk. Vernon helps you place and arrange Mina’s belongings while answering, “Y/n’s been roasting the shit out of my college essays, but other than that, life’s chill.”

“Hey!” you protest. “My suggestions aren’t that bad, and besides, you asked for it!”

“Listen to her,” Mina says. “She knows her shit.”

“Up top!” You high five her and Vernon groans, muttering about regretting saying ‘up top’ so much in sophomore year. Two years later, he still cringes whenever you say that phrase. You’ll never let him live it down.

Once you’ve settled down in your car, you search for nearby hipster cafes after Mina admits she forgot to bring snacks, needs food, and wants to adhere to her performance-day diet. As Vernon reasons, “A lot of hipsters are probably vegan, so hipster cafes should have healthy food,” and you can’t argue with that logic. Really, you and Vernon should know where to go, after being swimmers for so long and learning about different athletic diets, but the two of you have never been too serious about it.

After Mina’s recharged, you head to an art museum. Other than getting aesthetic inspiration and generally enjoying the artwork, Mina’s also convinced you to check out a Japanese-American artist’s new exhibit. Exploring the museum requires a lot of walking, but it’s certainly less demanding than ice skating, which she had originally suggested before realizing how tiring that would be on top of a weekend of ballet performances.

When she returns home for dinner, she pulls you aside as Vernon walks ahead with her costumes and cases. “Dude, I didn’t feel like I was third-wheeling at all today, which was great, but the way Vernon looks at you makes me feel like a third wheel at the same time. Does that make sense?”

“I… what?” You play off your flustered state by pretending to check her temperature. “Mina, are you sick? Did you overexert yourself today? Is that why you’re being weird?”

She smacks your shoulder, before sing-songing, “You know I’m right. I’m always right. In fact, I might even forgive you for all the premarital hand holding you were doing today, since that proves my point.” With that, she skips off, tugging you forward. Your heart lurches forward similarly when you see Vernon smiling back at you, waiting for you to catch up.

You hope Mina’s right. At the very least, she’s right about the premarital hand holding.

(3:49 pm) you: Bang’s room is locked you: Wya

(3:50 pm) you: Ohhh you’re in the auditorium that makes sense ac(t)orman: Bruh you: I am hackerman ac(t)orman: U couldnt hack ur way out of an unlocked computer ac(t)orman: Cmon, warmups are abt to start and Bang hates it when ppl walk in during them

It’s the second week after winter break, and the high school theater is already preparing for their spring performance, Shrek The Musical. Apparently, it was Junhui’s idea to perform this in order to showcase their range after they performed The Mental State, a heavy play dealing with mental disorders, in the fall. But Junhui ended up getting cast as Lord Farquaad, so you think he had other reasons for wanting this musical.

After you enter the auditorium and settle down in a plush seat near the back, Mrs. Bang, the theater teacher, starts warmups. You tune them out as you slip on a pair of headphones and start your homework. Half an hour later, Junhui comes by and drags you to the stage when the cast takes a break. You chat with Seokmin, who’s casted as Shrek, before practice resumes.

As soon as Mrs. Bang announces the end of practice, the room descends into loud chaos and you give up on studying for the time being. You wait for Junhui to pack up, and the two of you head outside to the parking lot.

“Hey, my mom just texted me to pick up some things from the Asian market for dinner.” You say as you unlock your car. He shoots you a thumbs-up, then pulls out his sunglasses.

At the Asian market, Junhui leaves you in the snack aisle when he remembers his instant ramen stash is running low. As you browse through the Hi-Chew and try to remember how many packages of haw flakes you have left at home, you notice a girl standing a few feet away from you. Oddly enough, she looks familiar…

“Somi? Is that you?”

She turns around. “Y/n?”

“Hey, it is you! What brings you here?” You met Somi at a photography competition last year, and you still keep in touch with her. She lives a few hours away, and you can’t think of why she’s in town.

“Hey! I’m doing a photoshoot for a client here, and I’m just stocking up on snacks before I begin. I can’t survive without Pocky,” she says, lifting and shaking her Pocky container.

“Wow, go secure that bag. Congrats, girl,” you say, fist-bumping her right as Junhui drags Vernon into the snack aisle.

“Y/n, guess who I found!” Junhui slows to a stop when he sees Somi, just as Vernon says, “Oh, hey, Somi! What are you doing here?”

“Wait, how do you know him?” you ask her.

“How do you know him? Small world, huh.”

Vernon laughs, drawing your attention back to him. “I know Somi because our parents are friends,” he explains. “And y/n and I go to the same school. We’re friends. Pretty cool, huh?” You quickly look away from him, trying to quash your growing disappointment by focusing on Somi instead.

“Right, speaking of friends, this is Junhui. Unless you’ve met him already, too?”

“Nah. Nice to meet you, Junhui.” He gives her a nod of acknowledgment, and then she says, “It was such a nice surprise seeing you guys here! But I’ve gotta run, since I start in ten minutes. I’m driving home right after I’m done, but if I ever come back and have extra time I’ll be sure to tell you.”

“For sure, we should definitely hang out when you have time.”

“Yeah, definitely,” Vernon agrees. Against your better judgment, you feel a surge of warmth when Vernon wraps an arm around your shoulder. “Be sure to let us know, ok?”

“Okey-dokey. Well, see you guys!”

All three of you wave goodbye to her. You wait for Vernon to remove his hand, but he doesn’t, so you shuffle out of his grasp as discreetly as you can, pretending to scan the shelves. “Let me find one more thing, Jun. Did you get your ramen?”

“Yeah, that’s actually where I saw Vernon.” He dumps a pile of instant ramen packs into your basket, and you wrinkle your nose at the sheer amount.

“Seriously? At this rate, you should get some actual noodles so your arteries don’t clog up with preservatives or something. I dunno, I hate science.”

Vernon snorts, and the sound almost makes you drop your packet of shrimp crackers that you finally decided to get for Junhui. Jeez, you really shouldn’t be this jumpy. Maybe indirect rejection from Vernon makes you jittery, or something. Whatever. “If that does end up happening, he won’t decompose for a few centuries.”

“Damn, okay then. If you insist.”

And then Vernon’s holding your hand as you go back to the noodles aisle and you can’t find it in you to resist. For now, at least.

After you check out and return to your car, you give Junhui the shrimp crackers and start driving.

“Oh, thanks. You know, I was actually eating a pack of these last night when my dad called.” Junhui’s dad works in Shenzhen, China, and he only comes back a couple of times every year. It’s no secret that Junhui’s missed him ever since he had to move five years ago, and it’s more evident than normal on nights like these when his mom has to work extra hours.

“Aw, tell him I said hi the next time he calls. He’s coming back for Chinese New Year, right?”

“Of course. Uh. Also, um.” He clears his throat, and you can hear him shift in his seat.

“What’s up? I’m all ears if you wanna talk.” Unlike Joshua (and, increasingly, Vernon), you never have to push Junhui to reveal his thoughts—he tells you if and when he’s ready, and coaxing (or lack thereof) has little to no effect.

“My dad’s been looking for jobs here ever since he felt like he was high enough on the corporate ladder. He had a few interviews, and thinks he has a pretty good chance of getting at least one offer,” he reveals hesitantly. You don’t understand why.

“Dude, that’s great news! You’ll get to see him so much more—oh.” Now you realize why he doesn’t sound as happy as you’d expect. Junhui’s going to college out-of-state, across the country. He’s not exactly going to be at home every day, and will likely continue to see his dad through FaceTime instead of in real life.

“Yeah. It’s just…” he sighs. “I’m happy that he’ll live with my mom again and that he’ll be closer to me, but I just feel so ungrateful for not being more excited. I haven’t told anyone else about this yet, too. I mean, everything has to be confirmed before I can say for sure, but like, he’s pretty far in the interview process.”

“Hey, I get that. It’s not like you’re legally obligated to feel super happy about this. And I’m sure your dad will find the right job for him, and that things will work out. It’ll be a step up from right now, right?”

“Yeah. I’m happy that he’s moving back. I just don’t know what the future’s gonna be like. And I feel like I’m missing out on seeing him, even though I’ll be seeing him more.”

“It’s okay. You’re allowed to feel more than one emotion about this, you know.”

“I suppose so. I’ll figure it out eventually. Anyways, my mom texted me saying that she was gonna get home at 11 instead of 10, in case you wanted to know,” he says, popping a shrimp cracker into his mouth and signalling the end of the conversation about his dad. You're not worried, though—you know he’s not emotionally constipated and that he’ll talk to his parents about his thoughts.

“Oh, do you want to stay after 9:30?” you ask as you stop at a red light.

“Sure, if you guys are okay with it,” he mumbles through a half-chewed chip while making obnoxious smacking noises.

You reach over and shove his shoulder. “Gross. And yeah, we’re cool with it. But you have got to chew with your damn mouth closed.”

He doesn’t. You grab a chip from his bag and chuck it at him. That does the trick, although he throws it right back at you. The light turns green before you can pick it up and toss it, and you press the gas pedal with a sigh.

It’s not an annoyed sigh, though. It’s the kind Junhui releases when Minghao insists on practicing alone at the studio on nights like these, the type that says ‘god damn, I love you, but I worry about the two brain cells we’re sharing sometimes’.

You have no trouble with those types of sighs. But recently, you’ve been bottling up the ones that arise from uncertainty and hesitation around Vernon.

The sound of Junhui crunching down on another chip in his open-mouthed glory draws you to the present. Hey, it could be worse. At least your sighs don’t drive you crazy like Junhui’s purposeful bad etiquette does.

(2:46 pm) jules vern(e): hey ru busy rn jules vern(e): or should i wait and come by later

(2:48 pm) you: I have to finish my homework but you can come over jules vern(e): :DD jules vern(e): slacker jules vern(e): also can u help me with smth when i get there

(2:49 pm) you: … Next time wait until I agree to call me a slacker jules vern(e): so thats a yes?? you: 🙄🙄 jules vern(e): thank youuuuuu

You don’t know what you were expecting, but it most definitely wasn’t for Vernon to show up with a bag of hair products, asking you to bleach his hair as soon as his mom drives away.

“Please? You said yes, you know.”

You close the door behind him, resisting the urge to bang your head against the wood. “Are you kidding me? Your mom’s gonna kill me. Your dad’s gonna kill me! You cannot be serious.”

“Relax.” He pokes his head into your living room to greet your parents before returning his attention to you. “My mom said I could—she drove me here, for goodness’ sake—and she wanted to bleach it herself but I felt like that wouldn’t be as fun as having you help me.”

“You want to risk hair damage for the sake of having fun?”

He sighs. “We researched this pretty thoroughly, and you’re careful enough not to fry my hair. Besides, I only want to lighten my hair a little, so I’m planning on doing a milder bleach bath. Here, we made an entire Google Doc about the procedure.” He unlocks his phone and you skim over the document, relaxing when you see a bulleted list on how to prevent hair damage.

“Well, alright. You have planned out how to protect your hair when you swim, right?”

“Of course. Go down to page four.”

“Jeez, you really thought this through. I’m impressed.”

He wraps you in a bone-crushing hug, ruffling your hair while saying, “Have some faith in me, alright?” Before you get the chance to catch your breath, he grabs your hand and pulls you into your room. “Which bathroom should we use?”

“Keep your voice down!” you hiss. “My parents are right there!” He just laughs and settles down at your desk, sorting through his assorted hair products. “What made you want to do this all of a sudden?”

Lifting one shoulder in a half shrug, he says, “Why not?” in the typical Vernon fashion that you just can’t argue with.

He’s got a point though. “You’re lucky. I wish my parents would let me dye my hair, but I’m waiting until college so they can’t see unless I FaceTime them.”

“Ooh, someone’s feeling rebellious.”

You shove his shoulder. “You’re one to talk. C’mon, let’s get started.”

Vernon mixes the bleach bath in your bathroom, and you apply it once he’s done. While you wait for it to work its magic, you half-heartedly work on your homework back in your room—a difficult task, seeing as how much of your attention Vernon takes away. You’re in the middle of watching a TikTok dance tutorial when you get a text from Tzuyu.

(3:27 pm) chewy granola bar: Hey do you have a picture of the DNA assignment for bio chewy granola bar: I think I accidentally left it at Joshua’s house and he’s not home right now

(3:28 pm) you: 😱 Quite scandalous Ms. Chou chewy granola bar: It’s not like that skjflaskf stop ittttt you: I’m kidding, yeah I’ll send it to you you: I have answers for about half of it if you want to do the other half

(3:30 pm) you: *1 image attached* chewy granola bar: Ty! chewy granola bar: Yeah I’ll send you my answers when I’m done chewy granola bar: It’ll probably be after dinner chewy granola bar: I have to get through a few chapters of Catch-22 for lit and I can’t stand that book 😭

(3:31 pm) you: I want to make a Catch 22 joke about that but I can’t think of any rip you: Maybe coach Kim only lets good swimmers skip practice, but if you’re good then you go to every practice? chewy granola bar: Unless you’re Junhui

(3:32 pm) chewy granola bar: But I’m not complaining, he can’t steal my granola bars if he’s not at practice chewy granola bar: Anywho I gotta go, cya! you: Adios

Vernon peeks over your shoulder. “Wait, hasn’t Tzuyu committed already? So she doesn’t have to worry about schoolwork that much.”

“That doesn’t mean you can slack off, Vernon. Plus, colleges can revoke their offers if you have bad grades.”

“Hm. Still, though. Oh!” He tilts your turned-off phone screen toward his face and examines his hair. “I like this color. Can you help me wash it out now?”

So you rinse and tone and dry Vernon’s hair, and once you’re done, he looks absolutely stunning. His hair is now several shades lighter, but looks silky enough to signify that it’s intentional, not a by-product of too much chlorine. “Woah, this is so much better than those wig filters,” you joke as he runs his hands through his hair.

“It’s so soft and light. Light as in weight-wise—you know what? It’s fluffy.” You giggle, and he swivels to face you, grabbing your hands. “Dude, feel it, it’s so different.”

You were right—his hair is silky, and as you card your fingers through it again and again, he steps back and sits on the edge of the bathtub. You slide onto the lid of the toilet and continue to play with his hair, forming a slow rhythm. Vernon grins and leans forward, fluttering his eyes shut and tilting his head into your touch. The sight of him resting so peacefully makes your heart skip a beat, but you shake your head, closing your eyes and calming your heartbeat.

When you open them, you’re surprised at how close you’ve gotten. Now you’re hyperaware of the mere inches separating you two. As his eyelashes cast shadows onto his under-eyes and you observe his serene expression, you can’t help but contemplate that this is how it will always be: Vernon thriving in his natural element, while you admire him from a distance, wondering about his inner world but never getting more than glimpses inside. The thought draws a sad sigh out of your mouth.

Vernon stirs at your exhale, opening his eyes and asking you what’s wrong. You tell him that it’s nothing, but he still reaches up for your hands, rubbing comforting circles into your palms and leaning forward as he asks you again. His earnest gaze is too intense for you to prolong after you can’t think of anything to say. Suddenly, it’s too much to process in one sitting.

You gently remove your hands from his grasp and hug your knees, looking anywhere but him. After your self-reminder of how little Vernon tells you, you can’t find your voice. Even if you could, you’re tired and weary and exhausted to the bone, and the push and pull of your relationship seems to be pulling you forward into his arms while pushing you back with the reminder of how little has changed in the past four months. Other than occasionally holding hands and general confusion over Vernon’s thoughts, everything has maddeningly stayed the same, and it just isn’t enough anymore. So you stay there, eyes downcast, too emotionally drained to do anything but collect your thoughts.

You can feel Vernon’s eyes linger on your face, longer than what you’re used to. Then, wordlessly, Vernon reaches out a hand to rest on your arm. When you don’t pull away, he slides closer and hesitantly wraps an arm around your shoulder. Slowly, you bury your face into the crook of his neck.

You stay like that for a while. After a few minutes, Vernon softly asks you if you want to talk. You shake your head—you don’t think you could put it into words.

“I’m better now,” You mumble into his chest truthfully, feeling like a liar. When you do so, a bitter taste of disappointment creeps up your throat. For once, it’s caused by you and not him.

Valentine’s Day has passed by the time the next Saturday rolls around, and you delight in the way Vernon’s face lights up when you give him a flowerpot with lilacs. They’re light purple—a lilac color the flower is named after—and symbolize first love. When Vernon asks for their meaning, you say they represent youth. Close enough.

Vernon keeps his promise to bring you discounted candy, along with a few bars of chocolate you need to make his favorite strawberry-chocolate cupcakes with chocolate-covered strawberries. He prepares the strawberries as you make the cupcakes—clearly getting the easier task—and pauses every now and then to rest a hand on your waist, smiling sheepishly and thanking you. You get shaky hands and blushy cheeks after he does so, and his actions certainly don’t make your job more efficient, but they do make for a better experience. You rate it five stars for how domestic it feels.

You eat the cupcakes for dessert that night, and the fucker has the audacity to feed you a strawberry in front of your parents. They think it’s cute, but you’re ready to combust on the spot. You get your revenge after dinner by smearing some buttercream on his nose. He’s so confused when it happens, too—he just stands there and blinks at you before he mutters a small, adorable ‘hey’. Quickly recovering, he chases you through the kitchen and smears some frosting on your cheek, laughing with you until you grab a paper towel to wipe his nose. He wipes your cheek as well, then slows his movements as he lowers the towel. He’s staring at you again, and you’re still not used to him looking at you without saying anything.

“What? Do I have any frosting left?” You swipe your hand against your embarrassingly warm face, but it comes back clean.

He shakes his head. “No.” He clears his throat, then steps back, snapping his gaze away. When he looks back at you, his eyes don’t linger. “Anyways, we should pack some of these up.”

You place the cupcakes and strawberries into containers, standing side by side, and when you walk outside to drive him home, he holds your free hand with his.

His parents are back from their date by the time you get to his house, and Sofia’s returned from her friend’s house, too. They invite you inside and thank you for sharing your cupcakes with them, and you chat with them for a while before Vernon drags you outside again to the porch.

The sun set a long time ago, so you admire the stars, pointing out your favorite constellations to Vernon. His parents step outside once to offer you hot cocoa, and Vernon wraps and arm around your shoulders after they leave. You stay like that, snuggled into his side, until you finish your drinks and check the time, finding that it’s almost time for you to go. Vernon sighs and pulls you closer, but eventually relents and stands up, walking you to your car.

He stops on his driveway, taking your hands into his and swinging them around. That much is normal, but the furrow of his eyebrows and his downward-cast eyes aren’t. You want to ask him what’s wrong, but it looks like he’s about to tell you anyways. So you just keep quiet and wait for him to collect his thoughts.

Finally, he looks up. “Y/n… can I kiss you?”

“What?” You can’t possibly have heard him correctly, but he lets go of your hands and takes a step back, so maybe you did. “I didn’t mean that as a rejection, I’m just surprised,” you rush to clarify.

“Yeah, but like, you’re not obligated to not reject that, you know?” Vernon stuffs his hands in his pockets and looks to the side, chew on his bottom lip. Your eyes zero in on the movement, your heart melts into a gooey puddle, and your brain overcomes the initial shock enough to scream at you to kiss him.

“Yes.”

“What?” Now it’s Vernon’s turn to be surprised.

“Yes, you can kiss me. I, uh…” you trail off, taking a step closer to him. “I’d be disappointed if you brought it up and didn’t do it.”

Slowly, Vernon beams. He takes his hands out of his pockets, then puts them in before taking them out again. He takes hold of both of your hands, swinging them a little before he shakes his head and stops. Then he takes a small step forward, leans in, and presses his lips against yours.

Time doesn’t slow down—the kiss barely lasts for a second. But you’re more than okay with that, because Vernon’s eyes flutter closed and he leans in again, kissing you firmly.

It’s not an exaggeration to say your heart feels like it’s floating out of your chest with happiness. Your knees wobble a little and your legs feel weak, and you lean forward into Vernon more in order to stop yourself from falling down. He lets go of your right hand and rests his hand on your shoulder. You sigh, but the sound gets lost when you move your left hand up to the back of his neck and pull him closer. His lips part just a little, and then he tilts his head and kisses you deeper.

You’re the one who finally pulls away to catch your breath, but not before Vernon presses one final peck to your mouth. He grabs your right hand again, and you giggle as you thread your left hand’s fingers with his. He smiles at you, too, then clears his throat.

“Um, that was my first kiss.”

“Really? There are a lot of people who’d like to kiss you, though.” You’re pretty sure a quarter of the student body has had a crush on him at some point.

“I, uh, wanted it to be special.”

“Was it?”

“It was.”

“That’s… good…” You’re pretty sure your face is the color of a Flamin’ Hot Cheeto, but somehow you muster the courage to look him in the eye. He smiles at you, then leans in closer and rests his forehead against yours. You close your eyes instinctively, hyper-aware of how clammy your hands feel and how loud your breaths sound. After a few seconds go by and he doesn’t pull away, you feel your shoulders relax, and the rest of your body follows suit—and then it’s just the two of you, standing in a little bubble where nothing but this moment exists, entirely comfortable, and soon entirely at peace.

Honestly, you could stand there forever, so close and intimate with no pressure on what to do next, but you’re eventually the one who pulls away after who knows how long. You instantly miss the warmth of his forehead against yours, but watching Vernon’s eyes flutter open more than makes up for it. He smiles.

Then, out of the blue, he asks, “I’m guessing that wasn’t, uh, your first kiss?”

“What?” You really need to stop reacting to all his questions like that. His eyes widen, and you quickly explain, “I’m not mad at you for asking, I just wasn’t expecting that. And… no, it wasn’t.”

“Ah. If you don’t mind me asking, who was it with? But you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to! That’s completely fine! Forget I ever asked!” He takes a step back and lets go of your hands, and you immediately miss his presence.

“Um…” You’re still a little dumbfounded by the kiss, and now that he’s being awkward, it’s twice as hard to form a proper sentence. “I… uh… do you really want to know?”

“Only if you’re 100% comfortable. You don’t have to. I’m sorry.” Dang it, he’s covering his face with his hands. Forget tension—the awkwardness is thick enough to cut with a knife, and it’s doing nothing to stop your brain from panicking.

“Oh… alright.” You don’t see how telling him it was with Samuel will make the situation any better, so you don’t. “Um, yeah, so…” He still doesn’t look at you. Now you’re definitely worried that he regretted it, but you figure things will be worse if you can’t talk to one another. “Uh, are you sure you wanted to do that? It doesn’t have to be weird if you didn’t.”

Immediately, his hands fly off his face and onto your shoulders, and he finally looks at you. “Yes! Yes, of course! Sorry, I—that was just new, I’m not used to it, but I liked that, I wanted to do that, yeah,” he says in a rush.

Very slowly, you lift your hands and rest them on the sides of his face. He stays put, and you suddenly feel shy. You resist the urge to glance away and channel your nerves through a smile instead. “That’s good to hear, Vernon, because I liked it too. And…” He leans in a little, enough to make the atmosphere feel intimate, and you gulp. Vernon’s focusing on you like that, when his face softens and his expression makes you feel like you’re the center of his world. “Vernon, if you wanted to do that again… I’d like that too.”

He positively beams. All traces of nervousness are gone from his face, and you internally sigh with relief (and maybe because you’re swooning internally, too. And externally, although that much is probably obvious). “I would, too. Y/n, can I? Kiss you again?”

You move your hands up and lace your fingers behind his neck. “You absolutely can.”

If you thought that kissing Vernon before could prepare you for this, you were pleasantly mistaken. He’s more confident this time, causing a noise of surprise to rise in your throat. You feel the corners of his mouth twitch up into a smile, and if your eyes were open, you might have rolled them. You settle for sliding one hand into his hair and wrapping the other arm around his neck instead, pulling him closer, and he rests his hands on your waist.

He kisses you firmly, all traces of hesitation gone as he brushes his lips with yours again and again and again. A feeling of pure bliss takes over as he slides his hands to meet in the small of your back, leaning into you ever so slightly. It’s just the two of you, like two puzzle pieces that have finally fit together, and it just feels so right.

Then you hear the door to his driveway open. You spring apart. Sofia’s frozen mid-step, holding a trash bag in her right hand. The three of you are silent for a solid five seconds before she clears her throat. “Sorry. Please continue.” She ducks back inside, leaving just you and Vernon and the awkward atmosphere hanging in the air.

Vernon can’t meet your eyes, and he can’t seem to figure out what he wants to say, which is usually not reassuring behavior, especially after a first kiss. Or maybe, you think, it’s not meant to be reassuring and now he realizes that he didn’t really like it after all, but he’s too polite to say it. Whatever the reason, you feel pressured to say something and break the silence. “Uh, I think I should go home now.”

“Ok. Drive safe.” He laughs a little, then turns to look at you. He plants a kiss on your forehead and squeezes your hand before releasing it, stepping back and grinning toothily. His smile reaches his eyes, and you swoon a little as your bubble of happiness grows even bigger.

“I will. Goodnight, Vernon.”

“Goodnight, y/n. Don’t let the bedbugs bite.” He says that every night, but that doesn’t stop your cheeks from heating up. You resist the urge to hide your face in your hands and slip into your car instead.

Once you pull out of his driveway, he’s still standing there, waving at you, and you give him a small wave before driving home with a gigantic smile you can’t wipe off.

(11:22 pm) you: KHKDSJFAHKDSHKJHADSKEF MINA

(11:25 pm) juul? nah. juilliard!: ASKDJHKEWAJHFWKLJAH Y/N juul? nah. juilliard!: more premarital h*nd h*lding? you: KJSDHLAKJSDHFLEUFHLKJAHKADJSF AHHHHHHHH juul? nah. juilliard!: GIRLIE- 👁👄👁 juul? nah. juilliard!: SPILL you: GIMME TIME TO PROCESS :00 you: But aaaaaaaaaaaEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

(11:26 pm) you: Ok it’s sleepytime byeeee love you xoxo juul? nah. juilliard!: YOU CANT SAY THAT AND LEAVE COME BACK HERE juul? nah. juilliard!: gn love you too exo exo

A wide smile stays on your face as you brush your teeth, wash your face, and settle into your bed. It grows bigger as you open your texts with Vernon.

You’re floating on cloud nine as you text him goodnight first.

(11:34 pm) you: Goodnight Vernon you: Sleep tight

(11:35 pm) you: Sweet dreams :D (delivered)

Vernon takes twelve hours and eight minutes to respond. It’s the first time in years that he hasn’t texted you a ‘goodnight’. That worries you, especially after last night—what did he think? Is he regretting it? Does he not want… whatever this is anymore? Ugh, mixed signals suck. Your worries keep you back from texting him more than ‘good morning’.

Speaking of which, you really need to ask him about what your relationship is. You make a mental note to ask him in person, then open his texts.

(11:43 am) jules vern(e): hey remember that picnic we went on in second grade when i spilled lemonade over my pants and it looked like i peed my pants jules vern(e): but then u gave me ur sweater to cover it

(11:49 am) you: … Good morning to you too, Vernon you: Did you just wake up you: And how could I forget lmao

(11:50 am) jules vern(e): nah i went biking for a while jules vern(e): it was rly peaceful jules vern(e): especially so since i just submitted my last college app this morning :DD jules vern(e): now im free

(11:52 am) you: What omfg congrats!! Now you can be a cool kid with me/Minghao/Junhui/Tzuyu and go back to stressing over school instead of college you: Also why’d you bring that picnic up?

(11:53 am) jules vern(e): better save me as JUULS vern(e) in ur phone now that im so cool 😎😗💨 you: MARK LEE IS A HORRIBLE INFLUENCE ON YOU i h8 it here jules vern(e): i think u mean the best influence you: Pls get 20,000 leagues away from me you: Mina is the ONLY person I’ll have a juul-related contact name for

(11:54 am) jules vern(e): what im hurt jules vern(e): WAIT DANG IT HOW COME I DIDNT THINK OF JUUL-LIARD you: Good puns come with good taste Vern, read a book jules vern(e): but i cant read :(( jules vern(e): n e ways jules vern(e): now that im free do u wanna go on a picnic with me jules vern(e): promise i wont spill my lemonade again 🥺

(11:55 am) you: Ofc! What do you have in mind?

As you make plans, you can’t help but smile. The last time you were alone with him on a Sunday was sometime before winter break, as you’ve both been busy with school and applications and plans with other friends since. Plus, the thought that he wants to spend his first “free” day after applications are done with you makes you tingly with joy.

And the day is nice—you make kimbap at his house before going on a picnic for dinner. The day is enjoyable. The events that follow are not.

Over the span of five hours, Vernon makes no move to address the kiss last night. And if you’re being honest, you’re more than tired from always bringing up difficult topics when you finally cave from his inaction. So when you’re the one who inevitably brings it up, your exasperation only makes things worse.

“So, Vernon.” You’re standing on his porch, observing the horizon as the sun sets, not touching. He’s standing about a yard away from you, and what breaks your heart is that he’d be closer if you had kept your mouth shut and just stayed friends. You’re confused and exhausted and second-guessing yourself, and you fight to keep your voice from shaking. “Are we going to talk about that kiss, or are we going to pretend it didn’t happen? And if we’re going with the latter, will we be awkward while doing so, or will we pretend everything’s normal and just act like regular friends?” As you say the last word, his shoulders tense up.

He stays like that as he answers. “It happened, and I liked it.”

“It doesn’t really seem like it.”

“I… I just would like to wait a little longer before doing that again.”

He doesn’t say it like a weak excuse—it’s much too genuine for that—but as the world blurs around you. You’re too tired to dwell on that further. “I’m fine with that Vernon. What bothers me is that you don’t tell me any of this. I have to guess what you’re thinking while tiptoeing around, worrying about rushing you or forcing you into doing whatever, until I have to be the one who brings it up. I hate it. Our friendship was never like this. Well,” you laugh bitterly, “I guess we’re still only friends, so our friendship has turned into this. I don’t know what you want, or what you’re thinking, or how you’re okay with treating this so casually.”

Oh, boy. You’re crying at this point, which can’t be pleasant to deal with alongside your emotional catharsis, but at least Vernon can’t ignore what you’re saying now. All your frustration from the past few months comes rushing out. “I’m not asking to be the most important person in your life,” you choke out. “I just want to be somewhere on that list, someone that you think of from time to time. And I’d like to know how you think of me, and if I should just go back to being your best friend or if I should expect something more.” At this point, talking is too overwhelming, and you just bury your head in your hands and sob, your torso quivering from your effort to stay quiet.

After a few seconds pass, you hear Vernon slide next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, but you refuse to lean into him for support. “Talk, Vernon. Say something. Don’t sidestep this again.”

His voice is low and quiet, but that makes it all the more intense, and you belatedly worry about pushing him too far. “You are important to me. I do think about you. More than you think, you know. A lot more.”

Emotion clouds your judgment—you’re not sure which emotion it is, though. Pain? Anger? Some deep attachment that feels very, very unrequited? “And how am I supposed to know? How am I supposed to read your mind when you won’t tell me a damn thing?”

He opens his mouth, and you wait for his answer. And wait. And wait. But then he closes it and looks away with a furrow in his eyebrows. He sighs softly—so quiet you have to strain to hear it, but loud and clear in the silence. That sigh prompts you to furiously wipe away your tears, but when your vision clears, he’s still leaning on the porch’s rails, facing forward, eyes downcast. When he turns toward you, he’s calm and composed. Stoic.

Vernon’s hesitant to look you in the eye, and that breaks your heart. His shoulders slump forward, closing him off physically, and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that’s what he’s doing mentally, too. He inhales, preparing to say something, and you can’t take it anymore.

You’re not sticking around to hear what distant, carefully constructed response he’s crafted. You bolt. By the time you finally stop to dab at your tears, you’re already buckled up in your car.

Vernon doesn’t stop you.

You wish he did.

On Monday, the first thing Vernon says when you pick him up is, “I, uh, won’t need a ride on Wednesday. I have a Key Club meeting before school.”

Well, you think. Good to know we’re still on speaking terms.

Silently, you nod once, not trusting your voice to work with the influx of emotions Vernon causes. You wish you could speak up, though. You wish you could ask him why he shut down and balked and if he’s trying to avoid you, but your throat constricts at the mere possibility. You feel the burden of the communication in this undefined relationship pressing down on your shoulders, and while you would love to selfishly dump it on someone else for once, just to get a fucking break, now’s not a great time. So you keep quiet.

Both of you sit in silence until you pull into a parking spot in front of the pool. Finally, Vernon says, “These morning practices sure suck,” as you unbuckle your seatbelts. It sounds forced, but anything beats awkward silence.

“Yeah, I’m not used to waking up this early. I almost slept through my alarm.” And so you make small talk until you enter the building and split up at the locker rooms. The conversation is so pointless, you silently vow to bring up your worries in the afternoon, if only to escape the dull facade of ignoring uncomfortable subjects. If you can write vulnerable essays for admissions officers to read, you sure as hell can have a normal conversation with Vernon like the mature almost-adults you are.

Right?

Joshua’s not in the pool when you’re done changing, and he never arrives. Morning swim practices, while rare, are strongly recommended (read: mandatory unless you’re Joshua Hong, apparently) for the team. He cares more about swimming than you and Minghao do, yet he’s the only one who doesn’t show up. Even Junhui glances at the locker room doors every now and then, waiting for him to walk out.

The man in question shuffles into first-period US Government and Politics five minutes before it begins as you search your backpack for a pencil. When he drags his chair out and sits next to you, his movements are sluggish.

You stop your search. “Joshua, what’s wrong?”

“Tzuyu and I broke up.” His voice is robotic and flat, like he can’t quite bring himself to believe his words. “Vernon liked her when we started dating, and she led him on for a few weeks. She only told me yesterday.”

You freeze. After a painful length of awkward silence, you force your vocal cords to unfreeze. “W-what? You didn’t know? Fuck, I thought you did.”

He turns his chair to face you. “You knew? Well,” he laughs drily. The empty sound is sharp enough to sting. “At least I don’t have to break the news to you now.”

“Joshua, I’m so sorry. I would have told you.” Your shock fades away to guilt as you mentally curse yourself for not saying something earlier.

He shakes his head. “It’s not your fault.” He leans forward, bracing his forehead against your shoulder. “I don’t know. She got a lot closer to Vernon all of a sudden, and I thought it was unexpected but nothing too big. But then it seemed like it was just… different from a regular friendship. I didn’t know how to explain it, but I guess it makes sense now. And I talked to her about it, and there were so many times when she could’ve just told me, and she never did. Until yesterday.”

You nod, then realize he can’t see you. “That must’ve hurt.”

“It did. I didn’t know what to do, since she kind of stopped that after a while. I’m just so confused, like is that considered cheating or not? But whatever it’s considered, it still hurt, especially since it happened when we had just gotten together. So I needed time to think, right? A lot of time to myself to think.” He lifts his head and leans back against his chair. “And… in my mind, you’re either dating someone, or you’re not. So… so I broke up with her.”

“I see where you’re coming from, Josh,” you say. Even though you probably would have reacted differently, you know Joshua’s mature enough to make a minimal amount of dumb decisions. “Um… what do you think you’ll do after you’re done thinking? And have you talked to Vernon yet?”

“I’m not sure yet. And I’ll talk to him at lunch, since we have plenty of time alone waiting for you guys to arrive. Slowpokes. Also, you guys have worked this out, right? Since you already knew about it?”

“Uh… we sort of worked that out, I guess—”

“Wait, so there are other things you haven’t?” Joshua snaps his head around, the first real sign of life he’s shown so far.

“I don’t know, we’ve talked about everything before but sometimes he gets awkward and stops talking and I just have to drop it.” You sigh, leaning your head against your hands as you try to contain the ache in your heart. Wow, you really need to google if a broken heart is supposed to feel that way or if you just have heartburn.

“What! Y/n, you can’t—”

“It’s ok. I let it happen because, well, I liked him too much.” You hold up your hands before Joshua can argue. “But I’ve been thinking, and I can’t accept if he’s not open about what he’s thinking. How he feels about me. I’m still figuring things out, but this is just between Vernon and I. Ok?” When he doesn’t respond, you add, “Josh, you know I’m not a doormat. You know I’ll end things if I need to.”

Finally, he nods once. “Alright.”

“And hey, if you’re tired of thinking and you need a friend, tell me. You don’t have to be on your own. I love you, man.”

He ducks his head. “You’re making me emo before class even starts. I love you too, dude.”

You pull him into a tight half-hug, and he finally smiles, before class starts. Even though first period is your only class with him, you’re still mulling over what he told you when it’s time for lunch.

Vernon and Joshua have class near the cafeteria, and they’re already talking when you arrive at your lunch spot. You hear Joshua say, “Anyways, sorry about Sunday, Vern. I had, like, no motivation to go out or do anything, but I feel bad for canceling.”

“You hung out with him on Sunday? In the morning?” you ask, confused.

“Nah, we had plans, but then…” The weight of the unspoken event hangs in the air. He hunches over again, propping his head up with his hand. “Yeah. Sorry, Vernon.”

“It’s fine, dude. I went on a picnic with y/n. It was fun.” Vernon hesitantly reaches for your hand under the table, and you wonder where this affection was when you confronted him last night. “Also, why didn’t you say anything? I feel bad for leaving you on your own.”

Joshua says something about the importance of alone time and introspection and psychodynamic theory—ok, you’re pretty sure he’s just pulling AP Psychology terms out of his ass by now—but you only half listen.

You did think it was kind of random for Vernon to drag you away for a picnic without telling you beforehand, and now you know why. It’s because he wasn’t planning on it after all. It’s because you were a replacement for Joshua. Damn, you were stupid to hope that he wanted to spend more time with you instead of staving off boredom.

You don’t feel hungry anymore.

“Joshua, you want some of my kimbap? We made it yesterday. It’s pretty good.” You pull your hand away from Vernon’s, take your kimbap container out from your lunchbox, and set it down in front of Joshua. He shrugs, opening it and placing a piece in his mouth as Seungkwan leans over and begs him for a piece.

Junhui chooses this time to show up. “Hey, kimbap!” He steals a piece. “Please tell me neither of you,” he points at Joshua, then Vernon, “were in charge of making this.”

“Y/n made most of it, but she told me to chop some stuff up and I think I might have accidentally bled in the carrots, sorry.” Vernon pops a piece of his own kimbap into his mouth casually. All three of you look at him, horrified, and he smiles sheepishly. “Kidding.”

“Ah, my beloved carrots are ok.” Junhui steals a piece from Vernon this time, before sitting down across from you, expression turning serious. “Anyways, Josh, how come you weren’t at practice this morning? Are you alright?” Classic Junhui. Insult someone’s cooking skills while eating their food, then settle down for a nice heart-to-heart.

Joshua explains what happened as you glance around the table. Jihoon takes his seat next to Seungkwan, Jeongyeon and Mina claim their spots, and then the whole first-lunch crew’s here. Almost.

When Tzuyu arrives, she looks hesitant. Mina tugs her sleeve toward the furthest seat from Joshua while continuing her description of her dance competition over the weekend and how it felt less stressful now that the Juilliard audition had passed. The rest of lunch is more or less normal.

As you walk with Tzuyu to fourth-period Biology, you ask how her tennis skills are progressing from her friendly matches with Chaeyoung. She relaxes a little when you start talking, but her responses feel hesitant. When you offer to tag along with Mina so you all can play doubles, she’s finally able to look you in the eye. She even convinces you to get a tennis skirt when she mentions that they come with pockets, before class starts and you stop talking.

In the song ‘Heather’ by Conan Gray, the singer compares himself to “Heather”, a person who you want to hate but can’t bring yourself to because they’re so perfect. And honestly, Tzuyu’s your real-life version of Heather. She embodies loveliness and energy and radiance, and after four months of knowing Vernon saw exactly that in her, you’ve stopped feeling jealous. It’s like Vernon said: she’s a friend, not an idealized projection instead of a person. You guys are cool—you’ve finally gotten over yourself and started hanging out with her again like you did in your earlier high school years.

Your heart goes out to Joshua, as you know firsthand how crushing it feels when the person you like flirts with someone else. But at the same time, you’re sympathetic towards Tzuyu. Maybe it’s because of the amount of time you knew about it or the fact that Vernon couldn’t have cheated when you were never dating him. Regardless of the reason, good or bad, you’ve seen how she acted after the fact, dropping that two-week period of getting Vernon’s attention overnight and treating him as a regular friend so quickly, it was like that period never happened.

But what do you know? You made Joshua worry about your relationship when he was hurting. You still don’t know where you stand with Vernon. And you’re far, far away from being Heather.

This can’t go on. You can’t stay in this blurry relationship, where everyone involved keeps getting hurt. You don’t want to end it, but it’ll be fine. It’s not fine right now, but it has to be, eventually. If Vernon ends up leaving your life in the worst case scenario, it’s his loss for throwing a decade of friendship away.

You have to initiate talks when Vernon won’t. Might as well initiate a “breakup” if he won’t.

Joshua’s in slightly better shape on Friday for the last meet before state championships.

“Why did you drive him to school?” That’s not to say he’s figured everything out, though. Right now, he claims he’s still friends with Vernon, but he avoids saying Vernon’s name when Vernon’s not there. The same goes for Tzuyu. He pulled you outside the moment you both have a long enough break from your events to talk in private, towel still hanging around his neck, and boy, is he angry.

“It’s Friday,” is your explanation. You slump against the bench. It’s weird—associating Vernon with negative emotions when he’s always been one of your closest friends. Joshua’s going through a similar experience, and the juxtaposition of how you’re both handling it contrasts as much as your emotions concerning Vernon.

“The day of the week doesn’t make him a different person.” Maybe Joshua’s at a stage where subtlety is a mere suggestion, but you’re at a point where you still feel the need to defend Vernon.

“Josh, why are you so angry at him?”

“Why aren’t you? Why aren’t you, out of all people, angry at what he’s done, and why are you defending him instead?”

“I’m defending him because I’m his friend and I’ve accepted that’s all I’ll ever be—”

“And I’m angry because I’m your friend. I’m not blaming him for what she did, but I’m absolutely pissed that he couldn’t abide by the relationship he proposed.” He ruffles his damp hair, and a few water droplets land on your arm.

“I’ve known about it since the beginning, and he was always honest with me, too. I’ve had time to make peace with what happened. And besides, it won’t matter after today. I’m telling him that I want to go back to being friends. You can’t really get your heart broken after that, right?”

This deflates his anger a little bit. He pauses, expression stunned. “But… why?”

“You said it yourself: either you’re dating, or you’re not. The glorified friendship with no commitment thing we’re doing isn’t enough for me, so we might as well go back to being friends and being normal.”

“Or you could ask him out?”

You scoff. You want to—desperately want to—but you know it’s not an option. “Please. From day one, he’s known that I like him. He’s never mentioned how he feels, and it’s not hard to guess, either. Better extinguish this false hope now, rather than waiting for him to do it.”

“Have you even tried? I don’t know why you would give up all of a sudden.”

“And I don’t know why you’re trying to change my mind when you were shading him five minutes ago. Plus, I don’t think you can say I’m giving up. You’re not the one who’s in love with him.”

“Oh,” is all he says, and just like that, your anger evaporates as you bury your head into his shoulder. His towel is slightly damp and the smell of chlorine invades your lungs, but you feel safe. “I didn’t mean that, y/n. I’m sorry, that was too harsh.” You mutter a muffled ‘s’okay’ and he pats your back before continuing. “But it seems like Vernon could be interested in a relationship, and I think you should ask him about it before you split with him. I think you’d both be happy. You don’t have to suffer in order to love someone, you know.”

“It’s just highschooler love. I’m sure it’ll fade into something harmless that I can deal with.”

“Highschooler love isn’t different from love, though,” he whispers gently. A little too knowingly.

You lift your head to look at him questioningly. “Joshua, how—”

“Takes a highschooler in love to know a highschooler in love, doesn’t it?” he smiles sadly.

“Joshua…” You don’t know what to say. “What are you gonna do?”

“Good question. I’ll either accept it or I’ll move on. Right now though,” he says, clapping you on the back and checking the time on his phone, “I’ve got a relay to swim.” The words have barely left his mouth when Vernon exits the nearby doors, stopping when he sees the two of you.

“Hey, Josh. Kim told me to find you and make sure you got to your lane on time.”

Joshua raises his eyebrows, although his expression lacks the anger he had a minute ago. “I was just about to go inside. Perfect timing, then. You can keep y/n company.” He stands and looks back at you, and for a moment you worry that he can hear the pounding of your heart. Then he shakes his head—not as a warning, but as a sign of resignation. “Have fun.”

The sheer audacity of his statement draws an awkward, strangled chuckle from you. Joshua grins. “Have fun?”

“You too.” Then he walks inside.

Vernon shuffles forward and slides onto the bench next to you. “Hey. You alright?” You shrug. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know, I’m just tired.”

“Oh. Maybe we could take a nap together tomorrow, or something?”

Your resolve nearly wavers. You want to spend the entire day tomorrow with Vernon—you really do—but it won’t be enough. It can’t be enough, not when you’re implicitly stuck in the friendzone. “I don’t… I don’t think we should hang out tomorrow, Vernon.”

When you say those words, it feels wrong—you’ve spent your Saturdays with Vernon for years now—and it’s obvious Vernon thinks so too, judging by the crease between his eyebrows and the twist of his mouth. “Why not? Is everything okay?”

No. “Yeah, of course. I just… uh, don’t think that we should keep on doing this.” You vaguely gesture with your hands as you say this. You’ve gone five months without attaching a label, and you don’t know whether you should laugh or cry.

Vernon looks mildly panicked. “Doing what?”

“You know what. Doing whatever our relationship is right now. It’s just not enough, Vernon. We don’t have any labels or commitment. Everything’s gone to shit.”

“But… I thought things were okay. We can fix this, right? We can work this out and attach labels and make it better. Right?”

You stand abruptly. He follows suit after a two-second delay. “Then why didn’t you do that earlier? Vernon, this relationship thing feels like a one-sided effort. I’m giving you so much that I’m not getting in return. You just seem passive about where this is going. And sometimes, I feel like you would care about our friendship so much more if we never went outside the boundaries that regular friends have.”

“No! Y/n, I do care. A lot. I want this.” His hands dart out, grasping yours firmly. “You’re important to me. I care about you as a person.” As a person, as a friend, as anything but someone to possibly like. That hurts. But maybe it’s time for you to accept that Vernon will never see you as anything more.

“If you really cared about me, as a person, you’d stop leading me on.” Dry. Dry anger. “I want to end whatever this is. This zero-commitment thing that… you only care about when it’s convenient for you.” Like a tidal wave, wet anger washes over you, drowning everything in its path. Your eyes water up. Your heart aches.

“No.” Vernon shakes his head, clutching your hands tighter. “Y/n. We should talk.”

Maybe you would have talked. Maybe you would have stayed and listened under different circumstances. But Tzuyu exits the building at that exact moment, pausing when she sees the two of you. “Oh—you guys are done already? You’re not doing any relays?”

Vernon’s grip on your hands loosens. He stares at Tzuyu, mouth open but no words coming out. Hugging her torso awkwardly and glancing at the ground and the parking lot, it’s obvious that she didn’t want to walk in on this very obvious spat.

You glance back at Vernon to find him staring at her, unflinchingly, his grip loosening enough to drop your hands. All your doubts and insecurities come rushing back to you at this moment, and the feeling that you’re unwanted grows exponentially. Your ballooning worries seem to press down on your temple, and all the built-up pressure signals an impending wave of tears.

But Vernon still doesn’t look at you. And something inside of you snaps. Fire flares up, blooming across your face. It dries your tears, evaporates your watery anger, and consumes you from head to toe. You feel hot all over. So what if Vernon doesn’t reciprocate your feelings? With how avoidant he’s been over the past week, who’s to say that’s a bad thing? If Vernon doesn’t give a flying fuck, why should you?

Your face burns from anger and shame and hurt, but you swallow and steady yourself. “Vernon. I’m done,” you scoff, barely audible. You’re afraid that you’ll end up shouting if you talk any louder.

You leave. He doesn’t stop you.

The sunset is as red as your anger.

Minghao’s butterfly suffered at the expense of his schoolwork. Joshua gets third place in men’s backstroke. Both of them sit across from you, slouching in their booth seats. Junhui wins in one of the freestyles and calls his mom, but she doesn’t pick up. He sits next to you, and the four of you wait for the rest of the team to order. You’re sure your glum expression mirrors theirs.

Across the fast-food restaurant, Vernon sits with Tzuyu, the two of them talking quietly.

Your anger brews silently, thickening and rising until you force it to cool for a few seconds. Then the process repeats. When you get on the bus, leaning your back against Joshua and propping your feet on Minghao’s lap across the aisle, your anger reduces to a simmer.

Vernon doesn’t care. So why should you?

A smaller voice at the back of your mind whispers, but you wish he did, don’t you?

Vernon sits two rows in front of Minghao and Junhui, alone. He doesn’t say anything for the entire ride.

He doesn’t care.

But you do.

You ignore him, tuning into Junhui, Minghao, and Joshua’s debate about The Bee Movie’s blatant disregard for physics and if bee-steality is even feasible. Sometime later, Junhui calls it a night and coaxes Minghao into sleeping instead of sketching or doing homework. You lean your head on Joshua’s shoulder, and it’s silent for a few minutes.

Then Joshua whispers, “I’m guessing that went horribly.”

You sob.

He pulls you into a hug. You listen to his steady breathing for a few seconds and relax into his embrace, silently crying into his shoulder.

“It’s ok,” he whispers. “I’m here. Let it all out.”

You stay like that for a few minutes until your tears stop flowing and your breathing gets calmer. When you pull away, you mumble a quiet ‘thanks’.

“Here, I have some napkins.” He reaches for his backpack and hands you a stack. “You have water, right?”

You nod.  “Thank you, Joshua.” As you take a few deep breaths, you pull away and slump against the back of the seat. You dab at your eyes while you force a lump down your throat. “This fucking sucks.”

“I know. Wanna talk about it?”

“Not really.”

Joshua pats your back. “That’s okay. I’m here. What do you need?”

“I don’t—I just—I think I want to sleep.”

Joshua lets you ease your head onto his shoulder, smoothing your hair away from your forehead. “Sleep tight,” he whispers. It’s what Vernon always says, you note with a pang in your heart, but Joshua makes the words sound comforting. With that, you’re quickly lulled to sleep.

Sometime later, you’re shaken awake. “Y/n, wake up. We’re here,” Joshua says as he gently shakes your shoulder. You blink a few times, disoriented. Once you’re awake, Joshua helps you stand up and slings your backpack over your right shoulder.

You step off the bus, looping your left arm through the other backpack strap. Minghao, Junhui, Vernon, and Tzuyu stand by the side of the bus. Tzuyu talks quietly into her phone, then hangs up.

“Guys, I need a ride.” She winces. “My parents forgot about me again.”

Minghao lives on the other side of town. Joshua still looks like he needs time to think. You need to talk with her, clear things up, and make peace.

“I can take you home,” you offer. “We only live five or ten minutes apart.”

“You sure?” You nod. “Thanks, y/n.”

“No problem.” You turn to Joshua. “You can take Vernon home, right?”

“Yeah.” He doesn’t look too happy about it, but he doesn’t look unhappy either.

Minghao’s mom arrives at that moment. Minghao and Junhui bid you farewell before departing, leaving the four of you behind. “Vernon, do you wanna get your stuff out of my car?” You can’t meet his eyes.

“I probably should.” He walks with you, and when you look back at Joshua and Tzuyu, you see that they’re talking.

You reach your car and open the trunk. He grabs his regular backpack, but makes no move to walk away. “Y/n, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Do better.” You play with your keys. “We should talk. Later.” You can’t meet his eye as you add, “Much later.”

“We should.” He steps closer. “I wasn’t leading you on, I promise. I made bad decisions and didn’t know what to do, since… everything was so different.”

You acknowledge this with a nod. “We’ll talk, Vernon.”

“I care about you as a friend and so much more, but I failed in both ways, and I shouldn’t have made you doubt how important you are to me. I’ll be ready to talk whenever you are.”

Half of you wants to talk right now, while half of you wants to run away. Then all of you feels horrible for wanting to avoid him, and you panic at the thought of Vernon no longer being an important person in your life. “Vernon, we’re still—we’re still, like, cool, right?” That sentence doesn’t make any sense, but Vernon knows what you mean.

“Yeah! Yeah, we’re friends, we’re cool, yeah.”

“Yeah, that’s good. Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Tzuyu walk over, stopping a few yards away. “Yeah. Goodnight, Vernon. I’ll text you.”

“Okay. Goodnight, y/n.”

You wave goodbye to Joshua as Vernon walks toward him, then place your backpack in your trunk. Tzuyu does the same. “Tzuyu, are you in a hurry to get home? I was wondering if you’d want to get boba with me.”

She grins. “I’d like that. Where do you usually go?”

“The strip mall a few blocks away has some good boba.”

“Oh, I love that place. You know the mascot that advertises for them on weekends?”

“Minhyun! Oh my god, he’s so nice. He says hi to me every time I see him.”

And then you’re laughing with the windows rolled down and the night breeze on your face as you fall into an easy conversation about all the baristas who work there. It’s so comforting to finally talk to Tzuyu about the mundane with the expectation of learning more later after being on edge, and you regret letting awkwardness with Vernon distance you from her earlier in the year. But, you think with a sigh, that’s your fault.

(9:02 pm) chewy granola bar: I’m sorry (delivered)

Half an hour, two cups of boba, and a heated debate about the logistics of a flat Earth later (you think it would be a circle, although you can’t figure out how the polar regions would work, while Tzuyu argues that a cardboard box represents an Earth that’s both flat and hollow), the topic of relationships finally comes up.

“So. Josh and Vernon.” Tzuyu swirls her finger in the ring of water her boba cup left behind, staring at the table. “You’re probably wondering about that.”

“Yeah, sort of.”

“It’s my fault for stringing Vernon along and not telling Joshua earlier.” She grimaces. “It started with this stupid need for attention, and… I haven’t really opened up about it, other than to Chaeyoung. And even then, I haven’t really told her everything.”

“I’m more than happy to listen if you want to share. It’s okay if you don’t want to. Just doing this is progress for us, you know?”

“Yeah, we really should’ve done this earlier. But I want you to know, and I think you deserve to know, and if nothing else, this is a huge weight lifted off my chest.”

You nod. “I’m all ears.”

Tzuyu moves her drink to the side. “I’m not trying to justify anything, and I’m really ashamed of how this has progressed. But I guess it starts with my parents… I don’t know what happened. Growing up, they were better, even though they paid more attention to my older brother—Jackson the twerp. I mean, we’re super close, but as a kid that hurt. But then Jackson graduated two years ago, and they both got promotions, and all of a sudden they were more distant than they’d ever been. Still, some part of me still wanted their attention or something. Even though in hindsight, that shouldn’t have been my first priority. I don’t know.”

She glances up and you nod. “I can only imagine how much that would’ve hurt.”

“Yeah. It did.” Her hand slides away from the ring of water, back toward her side of the table. “I think the moment I fully realized they had turned into different people—and that I didn’t really need to be chasing their approval anymore—was when Jackson came home for winter break this year. He had told all of us when his flight was landing, and I assumed one of them would pick him up. He was our family’s golden boy, after all. But they were busy at work, as always, and he ended up taking a taxi back. I was the only person home when he arrived.”

You nod when she looks up, urging her to go on.

“But still, up until this year—even for part of this year—I craved that attention, and it didn’t matter who it was from. When Vernon… y’know, I led him on for that attention at first.” She locks eyes with you, maintaining eye contact as she says, “I’m sorry. I took advantage of his emotions for a stupid reason that didn’t involve anyone but myself, and I didn’t do enough about the consequences. I shouldn’t have even thought about it, but I acted on it, and for that, I’m really, truly sorry.”

You digest that for a moment. “I forgive you. You’ve moved past that now. Although I’m probably the person you need to apologize to the least out of everyone involved.”

“I know.”

“I’m sorry, too, Tzuyu. We grew apart this year. I should’ve talked to you about this instead of avoiding it, and I should’ve been a better friend to you.”

“Hey, we made mistakes, and now we’re trying to fix them. It’s okay.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Finally, finally, you feel at peace with her. Now all you need to do is talk to Vernon… but you’re not looking forward to it at the moment. You push all thoughts of Vernon to the back of your mind and focus on Tzuyu once again. “What else happened that made you… self-aware?”

“It was a combination of realizing how attention didn’t really matter and how important fulfilling relationships—even love—did. I don’t care about my parents’ attention if it doesn’t mean anything. And honestly, you guys—the swim team, my friends, everyone else—that’s more than enough, and I had to stop neglecting all of my important relationships. And Joshua showed me that when people care, you’ll know. You’re one of their priorities instead of a burden.” She swallows thickly, then admits in a whisper, “Joshua was probably kinder than I deserved.”

You don’t know what to say, so you stick with the truth. “I trust Joshua’s judgment. You make him really happy, you know.”

“I… I hope so. You make Vernon happy too, you know that?”

You reach out for your empty cup, mindlessly swirling your straw around. “Of course. We’re friends before everything else. But it felt like I was way more invested than he was in this thing. And whenever I brought it up, he’d tell me he was trying but it didn’t feel like it compared to what I was doing. And…”

And then you tell Tzuyu everything. When you’re done, your heart feels lighter. Of course, you’ve vented to Joshua and Mina before, but you’ve spared them some of the details. With Tzuyu, though, everything comes out—all your frustrations and fears and doubts—and it feels so right to be completely open after Tzuyu’s done so. When you finish, Tzuyu stares down at her hands, avoiding your eyes.

“Vernon really cares about you,” she says hesitantly. When you open your mouth, about to implore her to continue, she sighs. Finally, she looks up. “There’s one more thing I was going to tell you. Back in October, when you two first started… going out? Can I call it that?”

“I guess. Tzuyu, what happened?”

“Well, you remember how we started hanging out more often around that time, right?”

“Right…” A pit of dread settles in your stomach. You don’t like where this is going.

Seeing your distraught expression, Tzuyu hurries to clarify. “We only hung out as friends, I promise. It’s not about that. It’s just that he asked me for a lot of advice during those hangouts. And back then, I gave him—” she cuts off with a sigh, bringing her hands up to rest her chin on her palms. “I gave him some really, really bad advice on what to do, and he followed it.”

You blink. Then you burst out laughing, and Tzuyu stares at you, clearly not expecting this reaction. “I wasn’t expecting you to say that. Tzuyu, I thought something happened. Giving bad advice… dude, what did you say? How did he listen to you?”

Her shoulders relax. “You’re not mad? I mean, back then I basically told him to not do anything until he was 100% sure he wanted to date you, like no cheesy declarations or kissing or whatever. I think I justified it by saying he’d be leading you on with that kind of behavior, and that it would be easier to go back to being friends if you hadn’t really done anything? But I’d give him a bunch of horrible advice like that. I think that was what held him back from defining the relationship for a while. I mean, that explains it, but it doesn’t excuse it.”

That last sentence is pretty accurate—it puts your thoughts from the conversation into a coherent sentence. “Yeah. When did you stop doing that?”

“I promise, the last time I did that was mid-November. After that, he didn’t ask for advice as much, and I’d tell him what I actually thought would be the best, even though it was hard to go against what I had said earlier. Although he did freak out earlier this week, after the kiss…”

You bury your head in your hands. “Don’t remind me. Everything that followed the kiss was horrible. Ugh, I can never tell what he’s thinking.”

“I told him to work on that. But you know how happy he was from it, right?”

“What? He was happy?”

“Girl! Did he not tell you?”

“I…” You think back, and yeah, maybe he did say he liked it. “But he told me he didn’t want to do it again, or something along the lines of that, and I just assumed it was his way of rejecting me gently.”

She sighs sympathetically. “I think you should talk to him about this. The only way you can completely avoid confusion is by hearing exactly what he thinks. But really,” Tzuyu says as she reaches forward and pats your hand, “even though he has a different way of showing it, he really does like you. I think he’s just scared of what might happen if things don’t work out. But that’s a risk you always have to take, right?”

You don’t have an answer for that. Sensing this, Tzuyu adds, “That’s a lot to process. Do you want to keep talking about it, or do you want some time to think?”

“I need so much time to think. Ugh, it’s way too late for cognitive brain function. Can we go back to making fun of flat-Earthers? Or just talk about anything else in general. I’ll do some thinking tomorrow, when I’m running on enough sleep.”

“Of course. We’re okay now, right? We won’t be working against each other in the future?”

“We’re okay,” you say with a slow smile. Being at peace with Tzuyu again wasn’t a convoluted process like you’d dreaded. You can only hope that the same will be true with Vernon.

Half an hour later, you leave the boba store and head home.

“When we get to your neighborhood I need you to give me directions to your house. Like I remember the general area from the Christmas party, but I don’t remember the address,” you say as you pull out of the parking lot.

“Sure. You told your parents that you’d be back late, right?”

“Yeah, did you?”

“No, I told them I was getting a ride back, and they said they were going to bed.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.” To diffuse the awkwardness of the situation, you turn on the radio and crank the volume down. The chorus of a pop song hangs in the air, but it’s quiet enough to keep talking. Which you do. “We should hang out more often. You’re always welcome at my house, you know. My parents tell me I should be more graceful and put-together like you every time I sleep in and eat breakfast in the afternoon.”

“Then they clearly don’t remember my bedhead from all of our sleepovers.”

“Girl, your bedhead looked good enough for Paris fashion week.”

“Dude… no.”

“Dude… yes.”

You pass a few more minutes with conversation, slowing down when you drive into her neighborhood.

“Alright, so where to from here?” you ask.

“Turn left, then take the next right.”

“Left and right?”

She nods in time to the song playing on the radio. “You got it.”

Soon after, you arrive at her house and drop her off. When you get back home, you briefly consider texting Vernon, but you’re not sure what to say. You open your mom’s unread text message instead.

(10:34 pm) you: Tzuyu and I are getting boba and I’m not sure what time I’ll be back mama: Ok! I might be asleep when you get home. How was the meet? you: My times were normal you: Ok I’m driving now, bye mama: Good job! Drive safe!

(11:04 pm) mama: Vernon and Joshua just came over. Vernon gave me a note for you. It’s on your desk.

You freeze when you read the last text. Slowly, very carefully, you shuffle toward your desk. There, on top of your calculus textbook, lies an envelope. You dread the possibility of what it might contain, but you suppose it can’t be worse than everything you said to him, and you can’t avoid this forever.

Still, even as a new wave of guilt rises, your heartbeat thuds in your ears and you sharply inhale, dizzyingly, as you open the envelope. Bracing yourself for the worst, you force your eyes to read his note.

And you’re glad you did. When you read the first sentence, you fall back onto your bed, the air knocked out of your lungs. Your hand flies up to the base of your neck, grasping your mood ring like a lifeline. Slowly, very carefully, you let yourself smile.

Y/n,

I’m not good with words with you.

When you were just a friend, it was so easy to tell you exactly what I was thinking. But now I get tongue-tied, and the reason why is because you’re so much more than that. You should know how much I care about you and love you, and I’m sorry for not telling you that every day. I’m sorry for being a shitty friend, and I’m sorry for not treating you right. I’m sorry for not telling you that I want to be official and date you and love you. I still want to tell you all those things, you know. I was so dead-set on being with you in the “right way”, I forgot that the “right way” can be messy and awkward at times. I forgot that being open with all of our thoughts contributes to the messiness and awkwardness, but it also makes things right.

I know I haven’t been nearly as open with you as I should have been. I’m sorry. I want you to be in my life, in whatever way you’re comfortable with, and if all you want to be is friends, I’ll respect that. For what it’s worth, I want to be your boyfriend, officially, and call you the person I love, but this isn’t about me. This is about you, after I’ve been too cowardly to give you everything you want and deserve.

I’m sorry. I love you.

Yours,

Vernon

(P.S. The box holds a mood ring that reminded me of you. I want you to have it without any sort of pressure on how to move forward. I’m always ready to talk if you are.)

(11:49 pm) jules vern(e): goodnight y/n jules vern(e): don’t let the bedbugs bite jules vern(e): sweet dreams (<3) (?) (delivered)

You spend Saturday thinking, away from Vernon. It’s strange. You could get used to it, but you’re not sure if you want to.

By Sunday, you’ve made your decision, but you still want to hear what Vernon has to say. In the evening, you meet at the park near his house. It’s a strategic location— close enough to a road so that you can leave if things go awry, and close enough to Vernon’s house so that he can walk home at any time.

“Hey,” you say as a form of greeting.

“Hey,” he replies. He stands up from the bench he was sitting on, briefly glancing at the kids running around the playground before turning back to you. “Do you want to walk around?” You nod, and he gestures toward the path to his right. “Do you wanna head in that direction?”

“Sure.”

You walk in silence. Once you’ve gone a reasonable distance from the park, Vernon speaks up. “Did you, uh, get my letter?”

“I did. That explains some things, but it doesn’t excuse them,” you say, remembering your conversation with Tzuyu from yesterday.

“I know. I’m sorry. I promise that if you choose to give a relationship another chance, I’ll tell you exactly what I’m thinking and exactly how I feel. I… I told you how I feel in the letter, but I won’t mention it if you’re uncomfortable.”

“You love me,” you say, trying the words out. Somehow, they don’t feel as foreign as you’d imagined.

“I do.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? Tzuyu said she told you to wait, but I don’t understand why you didn’t say anything. You knew from the very beginning that I liked you, but I didn’t know anything in return. I felt like I was waiting for you to make a decision about what to do, and I had no idea what you wanted.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to lose you, you know? I didn’t want to make any rash decisions and drive you away if things ended poorly. You started to feel distant recently, and I didn’t know what I could do to stop it. And then my actions ended up pushing you away anyway, since I’m a dumbass and don’t know how to communicate. I was so hellbent on doing things right, but I had such a warped idea of what ‘right’ was. I… I should’ve stopped and told you exactly what I was thinking, and then listening to what you wanted.”

“I get that,” you admit quietly. “I’m not blameless, either. I felt the same way sometimes. I was always unsure if my worries were reasonable based on our relationship that wasn’t really a relationship, and that made it hard for me to bring them up.”

“Of course they’re reasonable.” Vernon glances over at you, then looks down. “What are you thinking of right now?”

You turn onto his street as you briefly ponder. “I’m thinking of how I should’ve brought up all of my questions earlier instead of bottling them up. And… I’m thinking about how we were both so worried of losing our friendship, but you’ll always be with me, right? You’ll always be in my life in the way you’re meant to.”

“Right.”

“Right. That makes me feel so much better.”

“Yeah,” he agrees quietly.

“Vernon, what are you thinking of? And how did you get that mood ring?”

He scratches the back of his neck. “I’m thinking of how sorry I am for waiting so long to address this. And I had everything planned out: I was going to take you out on a picnic, give you the mood ring—which I saw at a craft fair last month—to reference our history, and ask you to be my girlfriend. And then last Saturday, I just… I wanted to kiss you so bad, and I finally let it happen. I was floating on cloud nine afterwards, but then Sofia asked if we were dating yet and I had to say no. She chewed me out for leading you on after you left.”

“That sounds like a very Sofia thing to do.”

“Right. I had seen the mood ring at that point, but I didn’t bring enough money to buy it at first. Once I did, I went back every weekend until I saw the same vendor last Sunday. But on that Sunday, I also wanted to spend more time with you and let you know that I cared, especially after that kiss, so I suggested going on a picnic. And then I was struggling to come up with a new confession while not leading you on before things were official. But, looking back, this all could have been prevented if I asked you out once I was sure I liked you. All the way back in January.”

You stop walking, standing still on his driveway. “January? Why didn’t you?”

“I was worried I’d mess things up. Tzuyu’s earlier advice didn’t exactly help either,” he laughs drily, stepping back to stand in front of you. “And, you know, insecurities are very persuasive, especially when you’re in love with an amazing person.” He looks up, almost shyly, but keeps eye contact. “But more than anything, I didn’t have anything special planned. You deserve more than a bland confession.”

“I don’t care about that, Vernon. I just want to be with you.” Slowly, you step closer to him, slipping your hand through his.

“Oh,” he says, voice cracking. He clears his throat, blushing. “Oh. Good to know.”

“Yeah. We can work through this, right? If we help each other out, we can make this work. Right?”

“Right. We’re in this together. And we’re doing it the right way this time, with labels and communication and all that jazz.” You nod when he looks at you for confirmation. “Y/n… will you be my girlfriend? Officially? Will you give me the honor of being your boyfriend?”

“I would love to, Vernon,” you smile. “I… I love you, Vernon.”

“Oh.” He breaks into a goofy grin. “Oh. I—oh. I love you, y/n.”

“Yeah.” You beam up at him, taking his free hand into your right hand.

“Yeah. Um, so, can I kiss—”

“Yes.”

“—you on the forehead?”

“Yes.”

You see a faint blush dusting his cheeks as he leans forward, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. He barely pulls away, his face mere inches away from yours. An overwhelming wave of happiness washes over you when he can’t stop grinning.

“Can I kiss—”

“Yes, Vernon, you can kiss me.”

That’s all the confirmation he needs to lean in, so quickly that your noses bump together and you giggle at his flustered expression. Your smile fades as he leans in slowly, pausing just before your lips meet. “Are you sure?” he singsongs.

Oh, how the turntables. Now you’re the one who’s flustered, but as your brain struggles to produce a response, your body moves on its own and closes the gap between your lips.

This kiss is an unspoken promise, an affirmation of your previous words. When Vernon releases your hand to cup your face, your heart melts down into your toes. You almost whine when he pulls away. Now that you know you can kiss Vernon as much as you’d like, whenever you’d like, you don’t think you’ll ever get enough.

Vernon kisses the tip of your nose. “I’ve been wanting to do that for so long. Do you forgive me for being an idiot?”

“You’re my idiot now. Of course I forgive you.”

And you’re okay. You’ll be okay. With Vernon by your side, how can you not?

“Wait,” Vernon says, interrupting your train of thought. “So did you like the mood ring?”

You lift up your necklace, bringing the new mood ring up to eye level. A beam of sunlight reflects off of the metal band, illuminating the ring in its full glory. It’s purple—a lilac color—a blend of blue, red, and pink.

It’s oddly fitting.

“I love it, Vernon.” He grins. There’s a familiar tenderness in his eyes, but it no longer makes your heart ache. It makes it swell with love instead, especially when Vernon pulls you inside his house to announce your relationship to his mom, planting kisses on your forehead, cheek, and shoulder every few seconds. As Vernon wraps you in his arms, listening to his mom coo over how you’re finally together, you feel blissfully at home in his embrace.

You finally know how to define your relationship. And so, in the end, you decide on purple.

Epilogue:

(4:49 pm) jules vern(e) 💜: me n josh n tzuyu are here nerdier than thou: Your neighbor’s dog barked at me so I barked back and now she’s staring at me help

(4:50 pm) you: One moment I’m looking for something nerdier than thou: Watchu looking for you: I’m trying to find who asked jules vern(e) 💜: lmao chewy granola bar: Lmao you: Lmao nerdier than thou: Hey :( you: Ha gottem

The three of them are waiting when you slip outside. Vernon’s in the back seat, and he greets you with a kiss on the cheek when you slide in Joshua’s car.

“The poor lady,” you announce. “She must have thought this neighborhood was a strict no-furry zone. You probably traumatized her dog for life.”

Joshua reaches back to swat the top of your head. “I’m not a furry!”

“I feel like we shouldn’t be hearing this conversation,” Vernon stage-whispers. Joshua swats him too.

“Stop it, guys,” Tzuyu chides. “You shouldn’t be dogging on him this much.”

“Thank you Tzu—wait a minute.” Tzuyu tries (and fails) to hold back a giggle as Joshua sighs. “I can’t with you.”

“Don’t worry, Josh. LA’s very friendly to furries. I’m sure you’ll find some of your kind in college.”

Tzuyu boos before Joshua can re-evaluate his life decisions. “I can’t believe you guys think the east coast is better. Must be lame not seeing me and Josh every day.”

“Shut up before you make me cry,” you say. It’s only half in jest. By the end of the swim team party at Minghao’s house tonight, you’re sure you’ll have cried at least three times over all your shared memories. “Oh yeah, wanna help me? I have a bet with your oddly prideful boyfriend about who’s gonna cry first.”

“At least you didn’t call me a furry,” Joshua mumbles. “Alright, I’m driving!” he announces loudly, preventing you from jumping back into the furry discourse.

Vernon slides into the middle seat as Joshua pulls out of your driveway, looping an arm around your shoulder. You lean into his side and stay there as you chat for the drive to Minghao’s house. Upon your arrival, Junhui immediately gives you bear hugs.

“I can’t believe we’re graduating.” He pauses, clearing his throat in a strangled-sounding fashion. “Anyways. Most of the underclassmen are here. Glad you made it. Yeah.”

“Yeah,” Joshua says, looking up and blinking away tears. You follow suit, as do Vernon, Tzuyu, and Junhui.

“Yeah. So. Does that mean I won the bet, Josh?” You fan at your eyes like that’ll drive away your tears. It doesn’t.

“Hey guys—oh no. We’re crying this early?” Minghao asks as he strolls up to the doorway.

“Maybe.” Tzuyu dabs at the corners of her eyes.

“C’mon, we can have a big cry-fest at the beach later. The people are waiting for their captains.” Minghao grins, but you can see his eyes watering up too.

The people get their captains a few minutes later, after they’ve collected themselves and can give a speech without crying. You spend the rest of the party moving from person to person, reminiscing with your teammates and wishing them the best of luck in the future.

After it’s over, you all hop into Minghao’s car to head toward the beach. The six of you sit on the sand, alternating between talking and quiet observation.

You love them. Each and every one of them. Even if Joshua will be in LA, Tzuyu will be on the west coast, Junhui will be in North Carolina, Minghao will be in NYC, and you and Vernon will be on the east coast, you know your bond is going to last far beyond college.

With a smile, you rest your head on Vernon’s shoulder. The six of you will be alright.

[miss-choco-chips]

Umm... I was wondering if you could Maybe do a follow up on your mini fic Last Line from dicks pov? It gave me alot of feelings and i would love to see the fallout?

Your work is really good! Its so cool how your brave enough to put pieces of yourself out there for other people!

Hey babe! Thank you for your kind words! It made me smile getting this, you are very sweet <3

I totally forgot about Last Line lol, but when I saw it reminded me that I actually wrote a bit more of it, both before and after the scene I posted. So, this isn’t exactly what you asked, but here’s some backstory and then the fallout!

---.---

Four years old, and he watches the red string on his finger pulled taunt towards the crying boy, the color of the thread well disguised among the red blood of the murdered acrobats.

Nine, and he watches from the shadows as it swings right and left, following Robin’s pirouettes from building to building. The thread, that usually goes a few feet before ‘vanishing’ from sight, was almost completely visible now, at such a short distance from the person holding onto its other end.

He’s on his twelve when he tries to explain to Dick the importance of him going back home. He wasn’t sure of his success, even though the older hero took him to the manor, because during his whole speech, Nightwing hadn’t looked up from the red joining them together. It wasn’t exactly how Tim wanted him to find out, but… Batman needed a Robin, and he was out of options.

At fourteen, he feels Kon’s hand clenching on his shoulder, as they both watch from the side how Nightwing swept Barbara off her feet and twisted her around, laughter falling from both their lips even as Dick thread’s end was pointing towards Tim. The third Robin didn’t turn to look at his best friend, didn’t meet Bart’s eyes or react to Cassie taking his hand on hers. He just made sure his face was perfectly devoid of any emotion when he muttered, low enough only a kryptonian would hear, ‘I wish it was any of you’. 

(A few nights later, when he and Conner were sitting quietly on the Tower’s roof, the clone took Tim’s hand with his own, his lack of red string blatantly obvious as he said ‘If I had any, I wish it could be you’. To this day, it’s the sweetest thing anyone ever said to him)

He is so, so tired, and he’s only sixteen. But keeping up with the shitfest that was the Battle for the Cowl, helping Dick while ignoring his red string (pulling him towards Nightwing, now Batman, stark contrast against the dark of his suit, with distracting insistency), dealing with Damian’s abuse as expected of him as the ‘mature, older brother’, coping with Bruce’s death, the shock of Dick throwing him, his soulmate, away so so easily…

(Shouldn't be surprising; Dick had been discarding him in favor of others since they met, shamelessly displaying his various relationships in front of him with an attitude that might be called cruel from anyone else but that just earned him playful shoves from other Leaguers while Tim was expected to swallow his pain, because a red string isn’t a promise, Dick is free… and yes, he knows that, but it doesn’t mean shit to his dying heart)

(Maybe, when he left for proof of Bruce being alive, it wasn’t so much for his old mentor than it was for himself)

----.----

Tim is seventeen and halfway across the world, looking at the string attached to his hand that never truly meant anything to any other than him (not to Bruce, who never took Dick aside and talked to him about consideration with his soul mate; not Dick's conquers, who never gave a fuck  about the red string in the hands that touched their skin, even when a lot of them knew who was on the other end of it; not Dick himself, who after asking every thing out of Tim and having it, forcefully took the one thing Tim wouldn't give by choice and claimed Tim was his equal, his soulmate, so he never could be his sidekick... even if it was the first time ever that Dick even mentioned the string tying them both together), when he thinks 'you were always free; now, I'm freeing myself’.

He gingerly bites on the string, and with his other hand takes a handful of it and pulls.

The pain piercing his heart is expected, but not new. He had been feeling it since the first time he saw Dick's back as he walked away with someone else.

He times it carefully, too. He doesn't think Dick would care, but just in case, Tim waits until it's morning in Gotham, when he's sure Dick is probably sleeping after patrol.

Maybe he would wake up without noticing

---.---

In Gotham, Dick is carried by Alfred and Damian to the cave, when the new Batman's screams of pain woke everyone in the Manor up. They are suspecting cardiac arrest, and then Dick looks down to his hand and notices the string, always tense, signaling him where his north is, where Tim is, laying loose and lifeless.

He panics, asks Superman to track Tim down or something, and when the man confirms Tim is still alive somewhere in the Middle East, he knows.

And like a freight train, the parting words Kori told him the last time they saw each other hit him right in the chest.

"He isn't going to wait for you forever"

----.-----

When Tim does come back, at nineteen, it’s a quiet thing. 

He spent the last how many days carefully setting his systems up, making sure his mainframe would outstand Oracle’s scrutiny when she realized he was back in town and tried to hack her way into his life.

(He didn’t blame her, of course not. Dick was charming enough, good enough, anyone he set his eyes into would be helpless to nothing but fall in his arms.

And, wasn’t Tim the one who would have been intruding, had he tried to chase after the first Robin? Everyone knew he and the original Batgirl were a perfect match, thousands of times better than Tim, whom Fate just wanted to screw over.

But not anymore)

The first thing he did, once the safe houses were chosen and his programs up and running, was to ruthlessly hack into the Batcomputer and take a look at patrol routes. 

He would need to keep clear of Diamond District and Old Gotham, least he risked crossing paths with B and R. The Financial and City Hall Districts were apparently Batgirl’s playground for the night, and if he wanted to drop by and let Cass know he was back, he could always search for her by the Upper West Side down to Chinatown.

He would avoid the Upper East Side like the plague, though. Maybe Coventry too, just to be safe. Lots of skintight blue in that direction.

Which left… Crime Alley, the Bowery and Burnley, mainly. He needn't check to know who’s house that was.

And that’s how he ended, on his very first night back on the streets, dragging Red Hood’s bleeding ass away from a blowing up building.

-----.-----

Apparently, saving a recently rehabilitated murderous vigilante was a bonding experience, because Jason didn’t kick him out of his side of town, nor tell on him. 

He couldn't, however, do anything to prevent the criminal gossip mile from spreading, and before a week had passed, half the city was aware of the new player on the board.

-----.------

Jason was taking a breather, smoking while sitting on his favorite rooftop, when the rustling sound of fabric told him his peace and quiet was over.

“I thought you were back at being N”, he greeted, not bothering to turn around or get up. 

“B was out of town, and Robin needed someone to watch over him during patrol.”

A quick glance around had Hood snorting, “Then y’re doing a shitty job. Don’t see the midget anywhere.”

It would never NOT be weird to hear a strangled laugh coming out of the Bat suit, as tight and humorless as it was now. It seemed big ol Dick wasn’t doing so great tonight.

“Batgirl took him to a party in Diamond District. Gang war.”

He humms in response, not bothering to keep on the smalltalk. N, no, B was here for something, and it wasn’t Jason’s job to ask it out of him; if it was important, he would do it himself.

“Where is him, Hood?”, he finally went to the heart of the matter. 

Jason tilted his head, still looking over his city, unmindful of the steps coming closer to his position, “Robin? Ya just said it, B. Going senile? Gang war, wasn’t it?”

“Don’t play around. You know I mean…”

Oh, yeah, Dickie still wasn’t sure what to call Timbo. Criminal gossip only went so far, for someone who didn’t bother to shout his hero name to everyone he beat up. It was very possible only  Jason was aware of his new monicker. All gothamites knew was a young vigilante showed up recently, wearing red and black and hanging out with the Hood, which immediately upped his street rep to ‘not to be fucked with’.

“Lil red?”, he completed for his older brother, feeling both charitable and petty. Batman’s wince was more evident by the rustling sound of his cape; he had hit a sore spot, hadn’t he? 

“Where? I’m not asking again.”

“Good, ‘cause I’m not answering. Must be ‘roundere somewhere, the little creep.”

“Hood, I’m running out of patience.”

“And I’m out of cigarettes, your point? I don’t have him on a leash asshole. We just share the same hunting space, it’s not like we go home together and do face masks while we talk about feelings.”

They did go to a safespot, though, and share beer and pizza while cursing their relatives and Fate as a whole, but it wasn’t necessary information for the fucker. He just breathed in the last of his smoke before dropping the cigarette butt and stepping on it, stretching as he did.

“Now, any more of this riveting conversation, or can I go? No, wait, it was a rhetorical question; get out of my part of town, ass. I’ve been plenty generous by letting you come this far, but our truce lasts as long as the lot of you don’t build any sandcastles on my playground and you know it. Now, scram.”

He could feel Dick’s reticence at leaving without what he came here for, but Oracle must be talking him into letting it be for tonight, because he didn't push. Jason turned just in the right moment to catch the way Dick looked down to his gloved hand, as if expecting the lifeless red string to be pulled taunt in Tim’s direction by some miracle. Jason felt the smallest ping of pity, quickly washed away by the memory of the younger hero’s haunted eyes as he told Jason the story of his severed soul bond and how he came to do it.

Thirty seconds after the bat vanished into the night, a little red bird landed softly on the spot next to him.

“Thanks, Hood”, he muttered, just as tired and hurting as he’d been ever since he saved Jason’s ass and they became partners, but with the smallest hint of lightness that made him prouder of driving Dick away than he’d ever been.

“Don’t mention it, but fair warning, the big B scomin back home in a few days, and he’s harder to kick out than a hurting, annoying bluebird.”

“I know”, Tim sighed, well aware of both facts. “I’ll play it by ear. For tonight, what about bashing some skulls and ruining Two Face’s new op? Good intel says it’s just a few blocks from here, and shattering bones always makes you smile.”

“Babybird, you speak the language of love.”

“Wasn’t that french?”

“I’m trying to compliment you, don’t be a smart ass about it.”

“I am smart, and I do have a good ass. That seems like an impossible request.”

----.----

[randombtsprincessa]

Buoyed Up

All Rights Reserved. © RandomBTSPrincessa, Tulips98.

Author: Randombtsprincessa

Characters: Jung Hoseok x Reader

Words: 4.8k

Genre: Fluffy Smut

Rating: Mature/Explicit (18+)

Summary: You take your boyfriend to soak up the sun on his birthday.

Playlist: Robokid - Ur Touch | Figgy - Do It Like Us | Tinashe - Days In The West (Drake Cover) (Ekali Remix)

Warnings: Yatching trip, Hoseok gets wet and shirtless, ogling, explicit smut, nipple/breast play, nipple biting, face sitting, unprotected sex (be safe folksies), hickies, profanity, dirty talk and dirty thoughts.

A/N: Happy birthday to my beautiful Sunboy! I would also like to thank @yeoldontknow​ for the nipple play inspiration and a special someone who shall not be named for the face sitting scene. I know you’re going to read this, don’t play. 

You had never been this thankful for a correct weather forecast before.

The sky and sea stretched out seamlessly in front of you in a brilliant canvas of blue. The wind was crisp and fresh. The wooden slats of the dock platform squeaked in your ears and right in your line of sight was the magnificence you had booked for one of the most important events of the year.

The star of said event was behind you, clutching your hand stretched out between you, fingers entwined. The squeezes he trapped your hands in could be seen as a form of expressing his affection…or simply conveying how nervous he was right now.

Your eyes, protected by the darkened haze of the sunglass could spy the captain and owner of the Yacht boat, wrapping and tying cords at the entrance, feet following the direction when one final, tighter squeeze made you pause, turning to look askance at the man behind you.

Hoseok, the birthday boy, wore a silky white shirt, so long and baggy it almost completely hid his lithe frame, nearly kissing his knees. Beneath them, you could just spy his denim shorts, and beneath them…well, his knees shook a little and toes squiggled in his sandals.

“What?” You asked.

“I just…um, are you sure, it’s alright for us to…take a boat?” He queried.

You paused. “What?” You tried again.

“I mean, things could go wrong if we’re alone. Storms, leaks, shark attacks, whale attacks,” He listed and for a split second, you allowed amusement to color your tone.

“Whales, baby?” You teased and he grumbled.

You had to sigh. You knew your boyfriend was a bit…easily rattled. So when you’d announced your plans for his birthday and he’d whooped enthusiastically, you’d taken a minute to talk him through it. It was a yacht, a decently large and comfortable engine based boat which would take you across to a private section of the shallows where you would spend the day. You would drive, there would be food and drinks and a luxurious day of sunning.

He had been thoroughly stress relieved, with fried chicken and soda before agreeing to your plans.

Of course, you should’ve known that coming out here and seeing things for himself would bring his earlier fears back to the surface.

You tugged him closer to your body. “If you’re really worried, then we can go back. I’m sure I can get a bit of a refund if we ask nicely.”

Hoseok didn’t meet your eyes, looking over your head at the captain who had spotted you by now, getting to his feet expectantly. “Did you pay a lot?”

“Just the standard fee; but your comfort is more important.” You promised, soothing a hand across his bicep.

“I’m…I’m fine, I just…”

“I’ll be steering, we will only go to the shallows and come straight back tomorrow.” You reassured again.

His big brown eyes met yours now, triangle lips pouting in thought before he uttered one word. “Fine,”

The captain, a hand carding through his crew cut, grinned at you when you finally towed Hoseok over to him and his boat. “Good morning, ma’am, didn’t I tell you there’ll be good sun and wind the day you want her?”

You laughed. “Yes, captain, you sure did. This is the birthday boy, by the way; Hoseok, my boyfriend.”

“Pleasure,” He stretched out a hand to shake Hoseok’s, toothily beaming. “You got a fine vibe around you, sir.”

Hobi hesitated before managing a smile. “So, who’s the ‘her’ you were talking about?” he asked.

The Cap turned, placing a gentle hand along the gleaming body of the yacht. “The most precious thing I own, meet Ferret. Come on in”

You couldn’t help but giggle at Hoseok’s stunned expression as he moved in. “He calls it Ferret?” He muttered.

“It’s cute,” You returned, turning your attention to the man in question as he gave you a basic run down of the boat again. You’d already gotten the tutorial and studied the manuals thoroughly over the last month.

You moved over the large reception and living space, glancing through the stocked little kitchenette in the back. The bedroom and bathroom were below deck, and the sun bed and fore deck sparkled from the cleaning it had undergone.

“What do you think?” You asked.

Hoseok sat on the padded sofa in the living, looking around and considering. “It’s good, I like it.”

“That’s what I like to hear. So, if that’ll be all, ma’am; I’ll hop off board.” He walked off, untying the rope that held the Ferret to its spot. “You’ll be back by noon tomorrow, eh?”

“Absolutely,” You shook his hand again, watching him cast a look over the vessel once more.

When he walked off, disappearing around the corner of the wooden walkway, you turned around to see your boyfriend smiling lightly at you.

“What?” You said, returning the smile.

“Nothing, just…” His teeth peeked out. “I’m happy I get to spend the day with you. I hope the guys don’t miss me too much.”

“They can have you tomorrow.” You reached out to pull him to his feet, planting a smacking kiss on his upturned lips. “Today you’re mine. Now come up, let’s take Ferret for a ride.”

Hoseok and you climbed up on to the ‘cockpit’ of the Ferret, set up high on the deck and over the galley for visibility and navigation.

“You’re sure you know how to do this, right? Don’t make me have to sail us back tomorrow.” He joked, climbing on to the day bed next to the steering console table as you sat in the chair.

“I might just throw you overboard on your birthday.” You warned absentmindedly.

You slid in the master key first, turning it and pressing the toggle switches on. The LED display lit up, welcoming the captain and panels of instruction and controls came up.

“Where are we going?” Hoseok asked again, curiously, watching you fiddle with the steering, the autopilot and infra red view to go over anything that may come up under the boat. He wasn’t too enthused with the idea but safety was key if he wanted to come back to shore with you.

“We’ll head over to the shallows; find a quiet spot to spend the day. Tomorrow we sail back.” You explained before the purr of the engine carried over the winds.

He watched you turn the small wheel on the control, carefully maneuvering out and away from the docks. The other boats and water vessels slowly decreased in size with the distance gained and again Hoseok internally expressed some gratitude to the heavens that his birthday came up on a relatively less busy day. It was not too cold to take far off vacations but it was still too cold to take one as this.

“Kick back, we have some time before we get there.” You said and he did just that.

Dropping his head back, he tossed his arms up behind to cradle his skull. The sun basked platform warmed his back, which his face heated up with the sun overhead. Soon it would be hot enough to actually warrant a dip in the seas.

He turned his head to look at his girlfriend, hair tied up and off the face, back ramrod straight even though there was nothing in the vicinity to even remotely pose a threat. She was wearing his chain, he noticed. The idea bloomed adoration in his chest, expanding and breathing air into his veins.

The engine had moved from a kitten’s purr to a loud roar, kicking up sea spray that misted around the vessel, cool and smooth as it hit the exposed parts of his skin. He undid the small scarf he had looped into his belt loop to wrap around his hair. He doubted it would do much, but he didn’t want to risk the salt water messing with the dye that was still settling into his scalp.

By the time they reached the shallows, it was reaching midday. You had cut the engine when you reached the shallows, steering till you were close to one of the small out crop of beach land that attracted the tourists. He could spy only one family, farther away into the distance but thankfully, they were too far to make their presence known obviously.

The autopilot engaged just in case, both of you migrated down to the galley, with you digging out a bottle of chilled champagne from the kitchenette. The bubbly popped loudly, with Hoseok cringing at the volume before the rich, crisp alcohol was poured into a stem less flute, kept to the minimum because his tolerance of alcohol was laughably low and well known.

He shuddered to imagine flushing crimson and losing touch with reality this early into the day.

The first hour was given to simply sitting in the shaded part of the deck, nursing the alcohol and catching up on the activities that were missed out on due to the hectic schedules of your lives.

Hoseok wrapped an arm around your shoulders, tucking you into his frame as he lounged back, feet up on the table, hair fluffing with the passing breeze. The heat, contrasting with the coolness of the sea air and the champagne was enough to lull you into the sleepy state, his soft hums echoing in your ear.

“Hey,” He said finally, his voice teasing. “Don’t’ fall asleep on me now.”

You smiled, sitting up against him. “Sorry, you just feel so peaceful.”

Hoseok kissed you softly before his eyes flickered to the expanse of water behind you. “Take a swim with me?”

Hoseok had been right. The sun had warmed the air enough for the water to be tolerable. Salty, cool and soothing, he plunged into the not too deep waters, his girlfriend laughing as she tossed one of the yacht’s floats in after him.

His head popped up just as you sat down at the edge of the boat, your feet kicking up water towards him.

“Aren’t you going to join?” He called.

“Nah, I want to watch you enjoy.” Your smirk made it clear you were enjoying the view indeed, fingers playing with the fabric of his discarded shirt.

Hoseok smirked right back, swimming closer so he could grab onto a wayward ankle. “Are you planning some mischief, darling?” He asked.

Your face turned impish. “Of course not,” You returned.

“Too bad, because I am.”

A hand smacked hard at the water, cupping and sending a wave of water straight at your face. He backed up quickly, laughing wildly at the stunned look on your face.

“Oh my god, I’m going to kill you!” You screeched, slipping off the deck straight into the water, uncaring of the water soaking through your clothes as you chased after Hoseok.

You spent about an hour in the water, splashing at each other and trying to swim around the other to escape the constant barrages of water. Even as the sun began to dip westwards, the temperature dropped, the cool water chilling against your skin.

Hoseok made you clamber up first, following quickly as you allowed the sea water to drain away first before entering the living space of the yacht.

The evening sun slanted down the slatted windows, illuminating the bags of clothes you’d stocked for the trip two days ago, when you were checking over the yacht one last time. A duffel bag, stuffed with both of your underwear, two extra tops and a change of pants.

Hobi moved to his clothes quickly as you flung them out onto the bed, quickly shucking off the shorts he wore, revealing his boxer briefs, the band hanging just at his pelvis. He grabbed one of the towels from the warming racks, hastily rubbing at his torso even as your actions slowed and then stopped completely, staring at your boyfriend’s visage in the mirror.

Thinly muscled arms moved quickly but precisely, catching any stray drops of water that gathered on his skin and you had to bite your lip, shaking yourself to snap out of it. You still had a cake to cut, damn it.

“What?”

You started, catching Hoseok’s gaze that had now found yours in the mirror. “What are you looking at?” He asked, looking down at himself to see if it was something stuck to his chest that had garnered your attention.

You smiled, handing him the hoodie from the bed, which he quickly zipped over his body, the zipper only reaching midway and leaving his clavicle available to your fervent gaze.

“It’s nothing,” You shrugged. “I just like seeing you shirtless. Never going to get over it,”

Hoseok stopped fluffing his hair, his mouth falling open first in shock at your blatant admission before he was snorting in laughter, body caving from his mirth. It had always been an endearing sight for you. The way his hair turned to floof, his lips and cheeks trembling to contain his chortles and the strain of his body - not from anything stressful though, but pure laughter.

He was beautiful and while it softened your heart for the man across from you, it did nothing to slake your lust.

If anything, it increased your desire to lay him down on the bed and ride him till he was a panting and moaning mess under you, your name on his tongue as he spilled in you.

You cleared your throat, looking away from the mirror and the real thing, down to your fresh clothes.

Cake…you had cake to cut…and dinner to eat.

And even though your body screamed to jump him right then and there, you were a self disciplined woman. You could last.

“Babe, do you mind waiting outside for a bit while I change?”

“Of course,” Hoseok smiled, grabbing the towel to drape around his neck as he exited the room, clicking the door shut after him.

Only then did you relax, peeling your own wet clothes off to change into the dry ones.

Fifty minutes later, Hoseok and you sat on the small dinner table that folded up from one of the couches. Hobi set the table while you cooked in the small kitchen attachment, all of Hoseok’s favorite food and snacks making their way on to the table. Kimchi fried rice steamed, sending tendrils of white mist up which curled around your man as he inhaled the aroma, a glass of Sprite bubbling at his hand.

You had decked out the room with soft fairy lights, too paranoid to risk candles, even though you were out into the water.

“This smells so good, did you add anything extra?”

“Just a lot of love,” You winked, already having promised to not reveal that fact that his mom had given you most of the secret keys to Hoseok’s heart…via his stomach. Fried sesame seeds in a little soy sauce underlying the taste of Kimchi…and here you were.

You swirled a finger around the glass of wine at the counter, waiting for him to dig in and take the first bite, moaning almost immediately as the rice hit his taste buds. “God, I swear my mom cooked this.” he shot you a suspicious look before deciding to let it go.

You grinned, reaching into the small under the counter fridge to pull out the cake.

You had bought, decorated and candled it at least ten days ago, making your best friend hide it in her fridge first before bringing it here. The glass top of the container was lifted carefully, lighting the candles quickly.

Making sure he was still eating, you quickly reached back and turned off the lights, plunging the room in near darkness. Another switch flicked on the fairy lights and the room was then lit up in a beautiful array of orange and pink, revealing Hobi’s surprised face as he looked up with a squawk of protest.

“What’s going on?” He asked, a little high pitched.

You didn’t answer, only picking up the cake and carrying it to the table. Hobi’s expression melted in an O, eyes sparkling at the army bomb candles you’d found. The small picture of you two on the standee, taken on your last anniversary, mirrored his smile.

“I hope you like it.” You mumbled. “I got cherry and strawberry cream filling inside.”

“This is amazing baby, thank you.” He whispered, leaning forward towards the cake.

You folded your arms on the table, “Go on; make a wish.”

Hoseok’s face sobered. He glanced up at you before closing his eyes, a second later blowing out the candles in a quick puff, the only source of light now the twinkling tiny beads that littered the ceiling and walls. His eyes opened, meeting yours with something like awe in his gaze.

“Happy Birthday baby,” You said lightly.

“Babe, you really pulled out all the stops this time.” He whispered.

I laughed, shrugging non-committal. “You’re my boyfriend, and it’s your birthday. I just wanted you to have a nice time.”

“I am.”

“I may have also made a bet with the guys about who you’re going to enjoy spending more time with.”

There was silence in which Hoseok sighed, shaking his head at yours and his friends’ antics but then you were straightening up. “So, what did you wish for?”

“You know, revealing a wish makes it moot.” He pointed out with a smile before grabbing your hand. “But I don’t need to wish for anything more because I have everything I could want right here.” He raised your hand to place a kiss to your knuckles.

You gave him a look. “You wished for a Grammy, didn’t you?”

Hoseok burst out laughing for the second time that evening, thumb caressing the back of your hand. He gave you a coy smile. “You know, I’m having a very nice time right now.”

You nodded.

“But I could be having a nicer time…how about dessert?” He waggled his eyebrows.

“You have a whole cake in front of you.”

“Babe!” He whined even as you giggled, leaning over to kiss his nose.

“Well, lucky for you I was thinking the same thing.”

Hoseok beamed, meeting your lips halfway in a soft kiss. His hair tickled your forehead, fingers brushing over the shell of your ears to delve into your hair. He scratched the soft skin of your scalp, a tiny trigger for you. It made you moan, keen further into his body. Somehow he managed to stand you up, guiding you back towards the yacht bedroom with giddy giggles left in your wake.

Once inside, Hoseok pulled you tighter against him, mouthy sounds and soft pants filling the room along with the gentle lapping of the waves outside and noises one can hear at night out in nature. It made the experience feel closer, more intimate as his hands ran over your skin, mapping out roads he’d explored time and again.

The first thing you did when you managed to pull your hands from around his neck was unzip the hoodie, taking your time to trail your fingertips lightly down the now exposed span of skin. Smooth, soft and supple, you couldn’t help but marvel at him being yours.

Hobi gathered your hair away from your neck, his mouth tracing from the edge of your jaw, nuzzling and nipping towards your neck. His fingers played with the hem of your blouse, hitching it up till he was pulling it up off you, tossing it to join his hoodie on the floor.

“Fuck,” he whispered at the sight of your naked chest, having forgone a bra.

Nudging his knee to yours, he backed you into the bed. You sat down with a thump, the mattress bouncing with your fall and started crawling back, Hoseok stalking after you on his hands and knees.

When you were finally propped on the pillows as to his liking, he dipped to kiss down your body again, encasing a sensitive, peaked nipple in his hot mouth, laving it over with saliva. Your head tilted back, back arching into his mouth until his other hand wrapped around the other, kneading it in rhythm with his tongue, essentially pushing you down to the bed.

“Fuck, Hobi,” you cried when he playfully bit into the nub, blunt teeth testing the waters between pain and pleasure. You glanced down to see him look up at you, pulling his lips back to show you the sight and you had to wrap a leg around his waist to tether you to earth. Swollen and dark with the attention, your chest stood out, resting in his hot mouth as he continued to swirl his tongue around it.

When he saw your attention was on him, he lowered his teeth again, pressure increasing steadily until you whined and he let go, pulling away to blow cool air onto the skin.

You dropped your head onto the pillow, pressing further in to make friends with the heat that settled in your thorax. It pulsated and thrummed in your blood, the very line he had made you just walk, mocking you.

The return of Hoseok’s hand, cupping your other mound, fingers gentle but insistently pulling at the other nipple made you look at him again.

“Good?” he asked.

You smiled nodding; your hand joining his to brush your own nipple before you followed the length of his arm, touching his chest, dragging over the sternum to where his happy trail disappeared into his pants.

He leaned in over you, kissing you again, slower, more intense, enough for you to chase after his tongue to suck on. You threw your arm around his neck, holding him to you as tight as you could as if his kissed poured life-breath into your soul.

“Easy baby,” he chuckled in your ear. “I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere.” He placed a kiss under your jaw and added a pinch to the nipple he was playing with for added measure.

He moved further down the bed, tugging on your hand to sit you up.

“Come on, I want my dessert.” He winked at you mischievously, throwing his body down to the bed to comfortable lie down, grinning up at you. “Get on here.”

“Are you sure?” You asked. “I mean, it’s your birthday, don’t you -,”

“Shh, it’s my birthday and I know what I want. That’s you; grinding that pretty pussy into my mouth, till you come on my tongue. You can suck me off all you want when it’s your day.”

You gasped, smacking at his shoulder till you were getting onto your knees, crawling over to him and swinging a leg across him. His hands immediately clamped onto the tops of your thighs, squeezing in reassurance.

This wasn’t the first time you were doing this, Hoseok being insistent on your pleasure before him or sometimes only yours, allowed for ‘experiments’ that would enable him to find clues and notes to your body that he blatantly exploited to make you putty in his hands.

A dash of compliments, a pinch of soft kisses, grips of comfort and maybe a good meal if you’ve had a long day revealed to be the key to get you to ride his face. And today, to your dawning realization, he’d played you just as you had attempted to play him.

Damn his brains…

“It’s okay,” he whispered again, much closer to your core now before he was helping you lower yourself to his mouth.

Your breath hitched when you felt his lips rove in a circle over the most sensitive part of your inner thigh, just at the apex where he loved to hover. He nibbled the skin, teasing it with his tongue and teeth before a hand was smoothing over your rear, warning you of the coming onslaught.

You leaned back to watch the sight. Hoseok’s dark hair upon the bed, his glimmering forehead with a few stray strands matted to the skin and then those eyes.

Eyes that shimmered with greedy lust, mirroring yours and overwhelming in the way they channeled your wants through them. If there was anyone who was truly able to give you a peek into their soul by their eyes; it was Hoseok.

And you, oh so, loved it…

The first deep, hard swish of his tongue along your slit had your moan catching in your throat, coming out broken and whiny. There was no time to get acclimated to the sensation of the barest hint of stubble against your soft skin as he moved his tongue again, back and forth, collecting your arousal and massaging it back into your folds.

You chanced a look downwards, seeing Hoseok’s eyes closed too, eyebrows furrowed in pure concentration. His nose was buried inside you and you could feel his breath waft against you.

“Fuck Hobi,” You finally breathed out, not even out of pleasure but the sheer picture he painted with the way he looked. You could write odes but none would ever match his glory.

He pulled away from your core, grinning up at you.

“I like it when you say that.” He told you, index finger resuming the path of his tongue, circling on your clit. He looked down at it. “I like it when this pussy quivers.” He slipped the digit inside and you swore he had hit the spot at first try.

You wouldn’t be surprised, he had had enough practice.

“Yeah?” You asked, sounding lame.

“Oh definitely,” he hummed. “But you know what I like even more?”

You looked at him puzzled, eyes widening when he smacked your ass lightly, jolting you against his finger. “I like when you actually ride my face.”

You stared.

“What are you waiting for?”

You kept your eyes on him before slowly anchoring your hands back on his chest. Hoseok’s eyes narrowed, his tongue poking out and then you hesitantly rolled your hips, the pearl of your clit catching the ridge of his tongue.

“Good,” He nodded as best as he could from under you. “Now; do it like you mean it; use me, Y/N.”

You close your eyes, focusing on the small burning ember in your pelvic floor before grinding down insistently; feeling the bare hint of tongue increase till it was basically a landing pad for you. Your nerve ending sizzled with each contact, Hobi’s hands moving and tracing patterns into your hips to keep you going until you were giving him exactly what he wanted, coming over his tongue.

The digit in your cunt doubled, the soft muscle digging into your core to lap up any wetness he could find but all it did was add to the mess until you couldn’t stand the friction. You writhed away from him, rolling onto the bed haphazardly, Hoseok following. He gripped onto your wrists, pulling you closer to coo over you, praising you for the job well done.

You were his good girl, he was going to fuck you real slow and nice for this; you felt rather than hear his whispers, muffled even though they were against your shoulder.

Hoseok collected you in his arms, winding and tight to your back.

“Can you lift your leg, baby?”

You did as he asked, with Hoseok helping you prop the leg until it lay over his upper arm. The stretch burned, but you knew he was walking the line between pain-pleasure again.

When you felt him enter you, slow but steady, filling you to the brim in one practiced slide, your eyes met his – gazes locked with unsaid words that didn’t need to be voiced out loud.

It was there in your touches, in your kisses, in the way you looked at each other.

He thrust, hips canting into yours and your head fell back, knowing he was going to take care of both him and you this time around. His pace remained calm, the only indicators of his unraveling being the grunts echoing in your ears and the way his lips and kisses became teeth and bites; littering the skin of your neck and shoulders with the mark of his desire for you.

His hands had moved from your back to your ass, gripping the soft flesh to fuck into you, rolling his hips until your sweat slicked bodies moved as one, plunged into a blissful orgasm that painted your body with splashes of his overflowing pleasure.

Hoseok cursed, grabbing onto his length to drive further into you, cock twitching and emptying the last of its essence into your cove.

“Holy shit,” You were the first to speak.

“Yeah,” Your loved raised his head, eyebrows quirked. “No shit,”

You both broke into giggles before he was gently pulling out, tutting at the mess that was probably on the bed. “I sure hope the captain of Ferret has fresh sheets on board.”

You raised a lazy hand, pointing towards the cupboard where you were told extra linens would be. Hoseok got up, golden and naked for your viewing pleasure before a particular notion had you grabbing at his hand, making him turn to you.

“You enjoyed your birthday with me more than you will with the guys’ right?”

“Oh baby,” He laughed, kissing your nose. “They can’t hope to give me the kind of celebration you just did.”

[shinsouskitten]

bakugou , deku , todoroki , dabi reactions to a conversation ur having with a friend talking about how much you like / admire them ,,, idk that makes any sense but feel free to change anything !! ly♥️

To the anon that sent in the spam ily! I won’t be doing them in the order you sent them, sorry if that’s an issue, but I just felt like writing some of them sooner than others

Yo this is such a cute idea tho 🥺 I usually just put in a cut for nsfw stuff, but I decided to for this post cause it was getting a little long (like Dabi... I’m not sorry)

I legit can’t remember writing half of this. I loaded up my document the next day and apparently I’d written half of this at 3am with no memory of it. Not the first time that’s happened, but it’s always fun

For Bakugou, Deku, and Todoroki, the reader is in 1A with them. For Dabi, the reader is an associate of the League if that makes sense? I hope this is okay!

Warnings: Dabi’s got a tad suggestive, but other than that I don’t think so?

---

💥 Katsuki Bakugou:

You sat on your bed, legs crossed beneath you as you stared at your computer on your bed, unbeknownst to the two boys walking past your dorm room. Your friend’s face shone into the room, illuminating the darkness with blue light. 

“He’s just so cool!” Your voice echoed out into the hallway.

Bakugou froze. Who were you talking about? He had half a mind to barge in and find out immediately, but the rational part of him (however small it is) convinced him to stay where he was. He waved for Kirishima to keep walking, and the red haired boy sent a wink towards Bakugou as he disappeared down the hall.

Hesitantly, Bakugou leant against the wall just close enough to hear through the crack of the open door, but far away enough that he could make a quick getaway if it opened. He could see a slither of light through the crack, and without the sound of another voice realized you must have been on the phone.

“No I haven’t told him that.” He could hear the roll of your eyes as you spoke. “He doesn’t like me anyway. At least not like that.”

Now Bakugou was annoyed. Who didn’t like you? Whoever it was had better hope they weren’t paired with him next for training. He stepped closer, hand reaching for the door, until he heard you speak again.

“Of course he wouldn’t like me, f/n, I don’t really think I’m Bakugou’s type.”

His eyes widened as he heard his name, his hand freezing inches from the door handle.

“Like yeah, he’s a little aggressive and shouty sometimes, but I really like him. I tried to talk to Kiri about it, you know, cause they’re besties or whatever, but he just told me to talk to Bakugou myself.”

So… you liked him? Suffice to say he wasn’t sure how to react immediately. Bakugou wasn’t the best with feelings. Sure, he thought you were okay. He felt a strange protectiveness when you were around, but he had never really thought much of it. Not until he heard with his own two ears that you liked him. Did he like you? Is that what it was?

“Fine, I’ll talk to him tomorrow. You happy now?”

Tomorrow? That was too soon. 

“No I won’t chicken out!” 

You probably would.

“No, I'm not asking Kiri to film it! Isn’t my word enough?”

Not really.

“I said I’ll do it!”

Would you though?

“Okay that’s it, I’m talking to him tomorrow. Good night.”

As you ended the call, you placed your phone on your bed, walking to your door to pull it shut. 

Bakugou held his breath as you gripped the door handle. If you saw him now that would ruin everything. As the door clicked shut he let out a sigh. 

Fine, you were going to talk to him tomorrow? He’d be ready for you. 

---

A/n This is my first time writing for the broccoli boi so I hope it’s not too ooc

🥦 Izuku Mydoria (Deku):

He hadn’t meant to snoop. Really - he hadn’t. He had just been on a walk when he saw you chatting away with a friend he didn’t recognize. He wasn’t trying to follow you, but you were walking the same way he was. He didn’t want to interrupt your conversation, so he was simply waiting until you stopped, then he could say hi. It wasn’t weird, was it? It-

“I swear if you say one more thing about how cool you think he is I’m going to leave.” Your friend laughed, nudging you in the side with their elbow.

Deku stopped. Who did you think was cool? Must have been someone special to you if you were talking about them that much. He frowned. He’d had a crush on you since he first met you, but he had no idea what to do about it. He couldn’t flirt very well, and whenever you were around him he just froze. If you liked someone else, maybe it was time for him to give up.

“But he is!” You retorted with a pout. “Why can’t I talk about him?”

“You’d be better talking to him.” Your friend replied.

“He always runs away from me.” You frowned. “I don’t think he likes me.”

As your voice began to fade, Deku realized you were getting too far away to hear you properly. He stumbled to keep up with you, not caring if you noticed him anymore. He had to find out who you were talking about, even if you caught him for doing so. It would be worth it.

“Maybe he runs away because he likes you.” Your friend suggested.

You frowned. “What?”

They stopped, turning to face you. “Why do you like him?”

“I…” You sighed, closing your eyes as you thought. “I just do. He’s heroic you know, which seems silly to say when we’re all training to be heroes, but it’s still true. He’s sweet and kind, and the way he takes notes on everyone is really cute.”

Hold up... were you talking… about him? To his knowledge, no one else from his class actively took notes on the others, except for him. Unless it was someone outside of UA. But you’d never mentioned anyone before. So… could it be him?

Your friend smiled, throwing an arm over your shoulder and pulling you towards an arcade. The amount of people would make it impossible for Deku to keep following- uh I mean, just normally walking through town. For now he’d have to give up on finding out who you were talking about.

As he turned to leave, he saw your friend lift their head over their shoulder, and the two of them locked eyes. They sent him a wink, then continued to pull you through the crowd of people, where you disappeared from sight.

Maybe you were talking about him. His cheeks flushed pink, and he made a mental note to find your friend and ask them what the wink really meant. If he couldn’t talk to you, he’d find out another way. 

--- 

❄️🔥 Shōto Todoroki:

He was making his way to the common room for a glass of water. He didn’t expect anyone else to be awake in the dead of night, so when he saw you sitting on the sofa with your phone pressed against your ear he thought sometime must have been wrong. He was about to call out to you, but he stopped when he heard your voice.

“I’m not gonna ask him to tutor me, you idiot.”

Todoroki stopped. Should he tell you he was here? He didn’t want to interrupt your conversation, but he also didn’t want to make you feel anxious about him listening in. He frowned. A tutor? You weren’t exactly struggling in class, in fact you were one of the best, so why would you need a tutor?

“Why not? It’s an excuse to talk to him.” Your friend's voice replied, barely loud enough for Todoroki to hear.

You rolled your eyes. “I don’t wanna lie just to talk to him.”

“But you want to talk to him.” 

“Well yeah, but… I don’t know. He’s just so… cool, no pun intended.” You let out a soft laugh. “He’s smart and amazing and powerful. Plus he’s also pretty cute.”

“Then tell him that.”

You sighed. “Maybe I should.” Your head fell back against the sofa, and Todoroki froze, worried that you might see him. 

He didn’t want to seem like he was listening to your conversation, even if he technically was. It wasn’t his intention, it just kind of happened. He was curious though. Who were you talking about? clueless bby I love him

“Also, did you really just call me at 2am to talk about your giant crush on Todoroki?”

Wait… you had a crush? On him? 

“Maybe.”

“Go to sleep, idiot.”

“I-” You stopped, pulling the phone from your ear to stare at the screen. “They hung up on me! Rude.”

You stood up with a stretch, turning to leave, when you saw Todoroki standing a few metres from you. Your eyes widened as you gripped your phone tightly.

“Oh, Todoroki.” You said, attempting to seem calm and praying that he hadn’t heard your conversation. “Have you been there long?”

He shook his head. He didn’t know what else to do. It technically wasn’t a lie, he couldn’t have been standing there for more than a few minutes. 

“That’s good then.” You let out a sigh of relief. “I mean, not that anything was going on anyway. You know what? I’m just gonna go.”

You walked closer, heart pounding in your chest as you slipped past him in a hurried rush to get back to your dorm room and hide under your blankets for the foreseeable future.

After you had gone Todoroki still didn’t move. He turned around just in time to see your figure disappear into the darkness of the hallway, his bi colored eyes glued to the area you had previously been. 

He’d have to figure it out tomorrow though, he was still thirsty in more ways than one. When he returned to his room, glass of water in hand, he took a seat on his bed, the image of your retreating form engraved in his mind. A small smile pushed its way onto his face. Maybe he did like you. 

---

A/n Why does it always end up sexy with Dabi? He’s either a full-fledged panty dropper or an awkward bitch who has no idea what the word ‘flirt’ is and I can never decide which one I prefer

💙🔥 Dabi:

You didn’t notice him as you walked in your room, phone held up to your cheek as you flopped back onto your bed. Your voice filled the small space, laughter light and gleeful as you spoke with your friend.

Dabi smirked. This was going to be fun. He had the perfect opportunity to scare you, hidden in the dark corner of your room, but he halted when he heard your next words.

“It’s not a crush, f/n.” You rolled your eyes. “Dabi’s just… special to me.”

“Have you told him that?” Your friend's voice filtered through the phone, and you let out a snort.

“Of course I haven’t.” You sighed. “I don’t wanna ruin what we’ve already got.”

“So you just want him to keep ignoring you.”

“He doesn’t ignore me.” You glared, even knowing your friend couldn’t see your expression. “He just speaks… sparingly.”

As a low chuckled flooded your ears you jumped, phone falling to the floor as you spun to see Dabi leaning in the corner of your room, his arms crossed over his chest.

“So, you got a crush on me, doll?” He raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at his lips. 

“Y/n? Are you okay?”

You stared blankly at Dabi, unsure what to do, until he strolled forward, picking up your phone and bringing it to his ear. 

“She’ll call you back.” He said, his turquoise eyes never leaving yours. “Looks like we’re gonna have a bit of fun.”

“Wait are you Da-?”

With a click he ended the call, tossing your phone to the edge of the bed as he moved to stand in front of you. He lifted one hand to hold your chin, forcing you to keep looking at him as he leant down.

“Should’ve told me sooner.” He whispered, his breath dancing across your neck as a shiver ran down your spine. “I’ve wanted to do this for a while.”

Before you could ask exactly what he meant, a warm hand landed on your thigh, slowly creeping higher up your leg.

“I was in the neighbourhood.” He continued, pressing small kisses across your collarbone as the hand on your chin moved to cup your head. “Imagine my surprise when I heard you professing your love for me.”

“I wasn’t-”

He silenced you with his lips, and your hands moved to hold him closer, wanting to feel as much as his warmth as you could. As he pulled away you whined, but his lips on your neck silenced you once more.

“Maybe I have a little crush on you too.” He drawled. “You still wanna pretend you're not hopelessly in love with me?”

Your words failed you as you melted into his arms. There was no point in denying it. And hell, you’d dreamt about this hundreds of times before. You weren’t going to let anything get in the way of fulfilling your fantasy. You could argue about the little details after. For now, you just wanted to enjoy Dabi.

And enjoy him you did.

omfg I suck at writing sexyness I’m sorry

[xnchxntmxnt]

OMG HAPPY 2OO LUV!! ILYSM, AND YOU DEFINITELY DESERVE MORE!! AS EXPECTED I'M HERE FOR THE MATCHUP EVENT AND I'M SO SORRY FOR BEING LATE KSDJFHSDF

1 | name : amie 2 | pronouns : s/her 3 | preferred gender : doesn't really matter 4 | self-description :

— it's ya clown sho <3 anyway, i'm an ambivert but more inclined towards the introvert side. my MBTI is INFJ and i'm a Gemini. i'd describe myself as someone who's very observant? yea, i guess. i'm awkward and you know it. My favorite color is blue, specifically sapphire, but i love all pastel colors. My fav show is Chicago Medical and all the psychological and crime thrillers out there are my favorite ( silent patient is my #1 though ) I love painting, playing piano and basketball!

— what i look in a partner you ask, uh, someone who can tolerate my silence. there are times when i go quiet for a whole day, i'll barely speak, no interaction nothing. i want someone who'd not exactly 'deal with it' but 'understand it.' also, i want someone who i can talk to without any hesitation. i have a hard time opening up so i don't do it but when i do, i spill almost everything. i might cry, might have anxiety attack, i might even shout. i know it's not very healthy but i want someone who can help me with those. plus someone who i can read with please <3 cheating and not having any respect for personal space would be the major deal breaker for me

5 | gen. aesthetic : my fashion sense starts from sweats and ends in sweats. i'm a big fan of those oversized hoodies and shirts, like something really comfy. however, i do have a collection of formal wears like blazers and dress.

6 | color/s to describe myself : red, actually. if not read then blue. it switchers but red 90% of the times.

7 | fav song/s : literally everything by Chase Atlantic and The Neighborhood. However, my absolute favorites are some of the famous classical pieces like Experience by Ludovico Einaudi and Chopin's Ballade No. 1 Op 23.

8 | fav genre of music : classical music ( Beethoven, Einaudi and Chopin own my heart )

Lol this is very lengthy I'm sorry, btw congrats again!

I looked into MBTI, I looked into zodiacs, I went off of what you said

Here he is, the man, Seijoh’s do-it-all guy

HANAMAKI TAKAHIRO ur new boyfriend

There is not enough content for him, anyway

How You Met

Bear with me here

Think about this

Artist!hanamaki

You love painting? Art club.

Idk if youre actually in any art club but shhh

Anyway, it was probably some sort of community thing full of tons of different age artists (bc you’d have basketball or something after school and he had volleyball)

So like once a week on thursday afternoons everyone gets together and does all sorts of artsy stuff

Everyone listens to lo fi music (or you can bring headphones) and chit chat and just paint for a couple hours

Its in the back section of a library (bc the library near me does stuff like this its awesome) so if you want you can go read a book while you wait for things to dry

One day the person that ran it suggested you talked to the new guy

He was about your age, it was his first day, they didn't know what all he was good at, and tbh they thought you two would look cute together

Just the vibes yk

So you set up your canvas and stuff next to him and introduced yourself

And you guys just vibe to the playlist

He’s REALLY good

Compliments you a lot too

Which is fun because he’s cute so it makes you a little flustered

You find out you guys go to the same school and he’s on the VB team

And says he has a (practice) game that weekend and asks you to come if you can

Which you do

And they win! So its fun!

Matsukawa basically asks you out for him though

He’s heard all about you already

“You don't get it issei! She’s so pretty!! God, she touched my hand and I thought I was gonna die!!!!!” “the enthusiasm is new for you” “shut up asshole” (conversation from the night before)

So he walks up to you after the game and is like “Hey so,,, we’re going out to get some lunch, you wanna come?”

Makki thinks HES flirting with you and is pissed off about it

Until you all sit down for lunch and oh, the only open spot for him is next to you (since when is matsukawa willing to sit between iwaizumi and oikawa??)

He asked you out after art club that week (Mattsun threatened not to give him any more monster for the rest of the month if he didn't get the guts to do it)

General Headcanons

You date hanamaki, you're also dating matsukawa

There’s no separating them (good thing ur MBTIs work together too, especially for strong friendships)

This was literally my first thought

So

Good luck with both these trolls

More on that later

Of course he’s going to be worried if you go radio silent for a while, but he'll understand

There are some days he’s not gonna wanna talk either

He’s really supportive on your bad days of course

Expect a random text in the middle of the evening from him

“Hiya sweetheart, just wanted to remind you that you’re beautiful, I love you, and I hope your day is going well.”

When he’s having a bad day, the same thing is all he needs from you to keep moving

He’s a really honest person. If you want to talk to him, be prepared not to get any sugar coating. If you tell him to shut up because you don’t want advice, he will. But if you expect advice from him, expect brutally honest advice. Subtlety is not his strong suit, so when it comes to advice, he’s going to tell it like it is. He's just trying to help, yknow?

However, he’s pretty good with people, so will know how to comfort you when something is bothering you. Tea and cuddles? Gotcha. Dancing at 11pm because neither of you want to sleep yet? On it. You want him to hold you? Perfect.

He’s not like...the most touchy person? There are some things he’s really indifferent on, and other things he’s stubborn as hell with. Whatever you wanna do, though

His weakness though

⚠️this part is slightly little bit suggestive⚠️

He will randomly walk up to you and pull you against him, give you a really deep kiss, smirk and walk away like nothing happened

Like hands in hair probably almost making out and then just

Walk away

Because that’s how he kisses and it’s breathtaking every time

It’s either little temple kisses or forehead or cheek pecks or something

Or that

And probably leaves you flustered and it’s funny (to him) (and to me if I was there with you) (bc that would be funny)

Hmm I’m thinking

I’m thinking hair dye dates

He needs help doing his hair from time to time Y’know (he doesn’t he just likes spending time with you) and he wants to make it pink again

So he teaches you how to do his hair and even offers to dye yours one day

Either just a strand or the ends or everything, up to you

Imagine having twinning hair dye with makki isn’t that cute

I think it’s cute

I said ur platonically dating mattsun right

Yes you are now

He absolutely adores you and loves how much makki loves you

Probably would have asked you out if makki didn’t but he was really pushing for makki to because he was just all over you in the beginning

He wasn’t overly attached to you romantically so being friends? Perfect. Sounds great

You two get along wonderfully though like you act like siblings once you warm up to each other

Again, very brutally honest person, but a little more awkward so doesn’t know what he’s saying might come off as he’s acting like a dick

He doesn’t try to though and he does really care about you

Flat out told makki if he breaks up with you and breaks your heart he’s gonna kick his ass (makki doesn’t know he had the same (less aggressive) conversation with you)

Tbh all of the VBC at seijoh loves you

Oikawa loves talking to you he thinks you’re great for makki

Gets you in on he and makki and mattsun’s antics

Iwa thinks you’re good too he just doesn’t know you as well

I think that kunimi would like you (he was almost a runner up--)

Kindaichi too

The first years just think you’re cool even if they won’t say it out loud

Seijoh VBC loves you

You got mattsun’s approval

And hanamaki loves you with literally everything in his life

So

You’re pretty set with your strawberry baby huh

Date Night!

SLEEPOVERS

I was waiting for some matchup to come along that gave me sleepover vibes

In a perfect world where you could do sleepovers with your bf because most parents would,,,not let that happen

Imagine…

He shows up at like 7:00 after practice, pizza in hand because he picked up dinner

You two eat, chat about your day, he probably scarfs down half the pie bc it’s after practice ofc he’s hungry

So when you guys are done eating you head up to your room

And make pillow fort

It’s mandatory

Different design every time, but there’s a pillow fort nonetheless

And then when there’s just enough room for the both of you to climb in

You get a blanket and a couple pillows and one of your phones or laptops or whatever and watch a movie and cuddle

When the movie is over you guys break out the face masks

You ever wonder why he has such great skin? It’s thanks to you (or if you don’t have masks, he picks them up on the way home from practice)

But anyway you guys talk shit about people for a while and sit with the masks on (it’s usually him talking about how Oikawa is a bitch as much as he loves him) (or about whatever he and Mattsun were talking about lately)

You both get chances to vent while the masks sit on your face and you just vibe with music (usually that you pick) (he listens to like,,,meme songs and like CORPSE yk)

After masks you guys make/get some snacks and munch on those during another movie but this time you’re in comfy jammies and more relaxed Y’know

Less paying attention to the movie you’ve seen a million times and just vibing in each other’s presence and it’s just really sweet

Fall asleep on his chest

Let him fall asleep on yours

Either way, you’ve got him whipped for you he loves you

Not that he doesn’t already but that’s his favorite thing ever so please just let him do that

Always makes sure to tell you he loves you before you sleep too

If you fall asleep first he takes embarrassing pictures of you with your hair being a mess & you best bet he sends them to mattsun because “she’s so cute omfg” “dude” “dude what” “you’re so fuckin stupid” “?” “Whatever—good luck being whipped just tell me when you need to get a ring, k” “you’re such a jackass” “yeah yeah Gnight”

Zodiac/MBTI

Okay so I’m not doing a big long paragraph for all this BUT from what I understand, Gemini/Aquarius are really compatible, and ENTP and INFJ are known as “perfect matches” sO (I had a really hard time deciding between Atsumu and Makki because they're both ENTP)

Psst Gemini + Leo is compatible and so is INTP + INFJ,,,, so, again, asking you to marry me sho 💍💍

Aesthetic/Vibes

Playlist

Prelude and Fugue No. 1 in C major, BWV 846

Linus and Lucy by Vince Guaraldi Trio (meme song)

Sky Full Of Stars by The Piano Guys

Someone To You by The Piano Guys

Shut Up And Dance - Simply Three

Runners Up

Miya Atsumu, Tsukishima Kei

[weirdlyobsessedwithegos]

Illinois x reader x Yancy

@ezuriel-moth-rps : Hey,,,,,,, a concept: soulmate wrist mark AU, right? But like,,, polyamorous people having a mark on each wrist. Thank u for ur time. h m. Illinois and someone? Idk who should be the other someone though. how many egos are there, RNG it

I chose Yancy since he’s my fav, and I’ve seen him being paired with Illinois several times, thought it would be interesting! And also, in this particular AU, the soulmark(s) only does something when you touch it directly, not just the person(s) you share your mark(s) with. Soulmarks can also look like pretty much anything, differs from relationship to relationship.

Having two soulmarks isn’t that unusual, but often, it could lead to questions you rather not answer. 

So you would always cover one or both up in some sort of fashion, often with a fancy bracelet or simple makeup. 

It didn’t help that yours was two one inch thick bands, one around each wrist. One yellow on your left and one blue on the right, so they often draws looks.

Of the two, you had met Yancy first.

You had met him in prison of all places, the both of you in there for crimes you definitely did commit, not that you ever planned on staying for long. 

And you didn’t. Yancy even helps you break out of the place even though you fought him and won just a few hours prior.

As he scratches the back of his neck while he explains why he isn’t outside the fence himself, you spot a familiar color on his wrist. He must have been wearing some makeup on it, because it certainly wasn’t there before. 

Transfixed, you reach out and grab his wrist, stopping whatever he was about to say as you pull his arm through the fence.

“What’se youse do-” He stops himself as he sees the color on his wrist, visible where it’s clear that his makeup had been smudged. He tries to tug his arm back, but you don’t let go, gently touching the little blue spot you can see.

“Hey, now-” He gasps as warm tingle makes its way up his arm. Looking at you with wide eyes, he gapes.

“Youse......” You nod, licking your thumb so you can use the wetness to rub away some makeup on your own wrists. Yancy lets out a shaky breath as he sees the matching blue and yellow appear. 

“I.... I’s thought I’s would never find any of youse.....” He stares at your wrists as you take both of his hands in yours. You kiss his knuckles, and when you look up there’s tears in his eyes.

“Please come with me.” 

“I belong here, this is my home....... For now at least.....” 

“If anything, you belong with me and our other. We belong together.” You can tell Yancy is close to crying. You let go of his hands, and he pulls back.

“Maybe when parole comes up, I’ll, I’ll give it a shot.” He starts to walk backwards, yelling about visitation. You look down at your box, and when you look up again, he’s gone. 

You’re alone.

You resist the urge to punch the metal fence.

--------

When you meet Illinois, is no less of a strange situation. You’re in a cave, a boulder comes rolling in, and after Illinois comes walking just behind it.

He somehow manages to convince you to go on a little adventure with him, walking backwards with confidence without getting hit by any traps, and flirting with you all the way.

You don’t really answer back much, but he keeps it up anyway. 

As you re-emerge from that monkey heaven, (which is what Illinois had expained it as), you still have the banana in hand. Illinois notices, but also sees the blue band around your wrist at the same time you do. 

Your makeup is completely gone (a side effect of the monkey heaven you think). Both you and Illinois freeze. Illinois carefully lifts up his left hand, and suddenly you notice the familiar yellow on his wrist. 

You let your hand with the banana drop, grabbing his wrist with your matching yellow band. 

The two of you stare down at your hands, as Illinois feel’s the warm tingle from his wrist travel up his arm. He twists his arm so he can grab your wrist as well, making the warm tingle travel up your arm too.

“You.....” 

“Yeah...” Illinois tries to pull away, but you don’t let him, pulling him into a hug. He stiffens up, but it only takes a few seconds before he is hugging back. When you pull back, the both of you are smiling at each other.

“Who would have thought I would meet one of my partners like this huh?” His smile is faking confidence, you can tell by his eyes how nervous he is.  

“And I know where our other is.” His eyes light up.

“You do?”

“Yes, and you have to help me convince him to take parole.” Illinois doesn’t seem to care to hear that one of his partners is in prison, picking you up with a big smile on his face, and spinning you around. 

Something pokes you in your back when he picks you up, so when he puts you down, you look and he’s holding a rock in his hand. Illinois notices, and brings it up so you can look at it better.

“Got it from the monkeys, it’s a little less impressive than your banana.” He shakes it, and as he does so, the rock emits a bright light, disintegrating and transforming into a big diamond. 

The two of you eye it in shock, before moving the focus to your banana. Carefully opening it up, you find it’s made of pure gold. You both let your gaze flicker between the two items, before busting out into laughter.

“At least it looks like we will all be provided for.” You say with a grin, Illinois nodding as he wipes a laughing tear from his eyes. 

As the two of you finally manage to stop laughing, you lock eyes. Slowly, very slowly, you reach up to cup Illinois cheek, stroking your thumb gently over his skin. Illinois leans into the motion and closes his eyes, and you can’t help but lean in and kiss him. 

You let the kiss be brief, just a press of your lips against his, but you almost immediately lean in for another one, which he is quick to return. 

You stay like that for a few minutes, before the weirdness of the situation hits you, and you have to break away from the kiss to laugh a little.

“What?” Illinois asks, straightening his hat from where it had become slightly askew.

“I just realised how bizarre my life is. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.” You smile at Illinois, and he returns it with a beaming smile of his own.

-------------

The first time you bring Illinois to visitation, Yancy is so happy, but almost burst into tears when the both of you put your hands against the plastic glass that separates the two of you from him in the little booth used for visitation. He presses his own hands against the glass, promising with a mix of laughter and crying in his voice that he promises to try for parole when it comes up.

That first meeting had ended way to soon for anyones liking, but after that, you and Illinois come every time visitation rolls around. (Yancy doesn’t let you call, since he wants to minimise the risk of anyone finding out you are an escapee, and Illinois doesn’t want any more benefits than you.) 

Both of you also write him letters, ranging from talking about adventures you have had, what kind of food the other person likes, and what you want to do when he gets out. 

Because he is getting out, no matter what. If he doesn’t make parole, you had threatened to break him out yourself. You did this during visitation once, causing Yancy and Illinois to laugh nervously, but you could tell they appreciated the sentiment.

You end up not needing to break him out, as a little over a year later, parole comes up, and Yancy is approved. When you read it in the letter he had sent to tell you the news, you had screamed of joy, running into the other room to let Illinois know. 

Illinois had smiled the biggest smile you had ever seen, you’re convinced if it wasn’t for his ears it would have been even bigger.

So a little while later, you find yourself leaning on the hood a car outside the prison, all nervous energy and jitters. Illinois is right next to you, a warm and heavy hand on your hip a comforting weight.

The door to the building opens, and out steps Yancy. You can see he spots you, almost matching your nervous energy, but he tries to take it slow, and not full on run his way out.

As he steps out the prison gates for the first time in years, he casts one last look over his shoulder at the building. 

As he turns back around, his arms are almost immediately filled with you, giving him the biggest and best hug you can. He draws in a sharp breath and hugs you back just as hard.

When he lets go of you, Illinois is standing right next to you, and he gently takes Yancy’s wrists in his hands, making the warm and familiar tingle travel up his arms. 

Yancy moves his arms so he can do the same, smiling hard, trying to hold back happy tears. Illinois pulls him into a hug as well, even giving Yancy a little spin like he does with you. 

Yancy laughs, and when Illinois puts him down again, Illinois plants a brief kiss on his lips. Yancy is stunned, so you step closer and lead his attention to you with a hand under his chin. Leaning in, you pause briefly, before letting your lips brush softly against his in a barely there kiss. 

Yancy, seemingly snapped out of his stupor, kisses you back, only breaking the kiss so he can kiss Illinois as well. This time it’s Illinois who is surprised, but he is quick to kiss back as he regains his composure. 

You have to tell them to slow down a bit, you’re still very not in the right place just yet, so they let you drag them over to the car. You give them both a quick kiss, settling in the drivers seat. They both get in the back, leaning against each other and holding hands on the whole way home as you smile at them trough the rearview mirror.

[azuchifairy]

The Corpse Bride

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13672392/1/The-Corpse-Bride

Long ago in a small provincial town in the forest, a girl with the dream to be married to her soulmate met a terrible fate. When only her true love could set her free from the awful curse, it turns into a twisted story of life and death.

Chapter One: According to Plan 

Gray finished his sketch just as a butterfly perched on the window sill. He noticed its impeccable colors, a stunning sapphire and deep violet hues to compliment it. Nature rarely made things blue, but that exceptional little butterfly seemed to be rather lucky. It fluttered up through his room and out the window again as his eyes followed it up into the cloudy skies.

He sighed in memory of the day before him. His father, Silver Fullbuster, was in an insufferable state of disarray that his heir had not yet taken a wife. He had been rather unpleasant over it being that his father was growing old and he wished to see the new generation of his family. Gray was his only full blooded son and would inherit their grand estate and family business.

His mother, Mika Fullbuster, had passed on when he was still a child. Yet Gray always remembered her fondly. She adored the beauty of the world around them and explored nature and its majesty. Although he missed her terribly from time to time, Gray tried to be positive about his mother watching over him in the afterlife. His father however never truly healed, but felt that in his remarriage to a wonderful woman named Ur filled the hole in his chest even if only by half.

Ur, like his mother, was a magic user who specialized in healing. She taught Gray, his stepbrother Lyon, and stepsister Ultear how to use their magic. Gray always thought of her as his second mother because of her courageous heart in teaching, yet brutal temper when any of the children misbehaved. Silver frowned upon the children’s use of magic saying that it wouldn't help them in the progressing world, for magic at that time was seen by some as dark and a bad omen. Many who were known to use magic kept it hidden out of fear that those who opposed them would strike back.

Gray never thought of it that way, he was always fascinated by it like both of his mothers had been. Throughout his childhood and into his adult life Gray had become so wrapped into the family business that he rarely had time to do as he pleased. He spent his days living in his father’s shadow, something Silver believed made his son happy.

As Gray became of marital age his father was set on having him be wed, and the sooner the better. Unfortunately his son almost loathed the idea of an arranged marriage. He knew he would wed eventually but he didn’t want to be pushed into it. But marrying him to a suitable maiden to carry on the Fullbuster name was all his father desired. He had tried introducing Gray to countless women, after all his wealth needed to be passed on to someone of equal status. His father wanted him to be happy, but he was willing to only believe that he was. Silver meant well but remained blinded by his own personal wants instead of Gray’s needs.

It took many trials to find Gray a match but when Silver came across the Heartfilia family, another wealthy family like theirs, he found out that their daughter, Lucy, was of age. She was known to be intelligent, beautiful, and blonde. Many other men had sought after her, but she still had yet to be married. Silver had met her on a trip to the Heartfilia estate to have a business meeting with her father, Jude. Silver was struck by her beauty and kindness that he forgot about the business proposal and instead offered his son to Jude and his wife Layla. They agreed to have their children meet and further discuss marriage plans, although it really meant that they wanted it sealed in stone.

Gray had heard of Lucy before around the town and there was nothing wrong with her, she just wasn’t his type. He was entirely unenthusiastic to go to their estate that day. The only reason he didn’t put up an attitude is because his father was at his wits end after Gray had come back from many meetings without a bride. Gray was confident that Lucy wouldn’t like him either, the rumor was a man had already won her heart.

“Gray! You better be ready up there, my boy!” His father called from the hallway.

Gray let out a sigh as he got up from his comfortable spot. He set his book down on his desk and stood in front of the mirror to see the ridiculous suit his servant had helped him put on. It was a deep navy colored suit with a black dress shirt and an overly sized scarf-like tie in silver. It was too tight and extremely uncomfortable that in the instant the servant left the room he tugged at the sleeves and collar to let him breathe again. He wanted to pull the tie off entirely eventually giving up on the undoable knot. They had also slicked his unruly spiked hair back to make him appear ‘proper’. He didn’t quite care if he looked greasy, perhaps it would make him less attractive.

His father opened the door with a smile that turned into a frown as he took a look at his son.

“What did you do this time?” he asked , although knowing his son despised formal wear.

“Dad, I look like a circus monkey, and I couldn’t even breathe. What did you expect?” Gray responded in annoyance as his father crossed the room to him. He fixed his collar and rolled his sleeve cuffs up again making him look presentable again. He tightened the tie and tucked it in so he looked tidy all around.

“Everything must be perfect, you have to make a good impression. As long as everything goes according to plan I’ll be satisfied.” Silver said. It seemed his son wasn’t paying attention with his sour expression so in turn Silver clapped his hands on his son’s shoulders making him jump, “C’mon, lose the attitude.”

Gray winced, “Fine. But it’s not my fault if this doesn’t work out.”

Silver narrowed his eyes, “That’s because you’re going to be kind to her and put your best foot forward so it does work out.”

Gray rolled his eyes, “Sure, whatever you say.” His tone was unconvincing but his father ignored it wrapping his arm around his son’s shoulder.

“Are you two done yet?! This carriage isn’t going to wait forever! We can’t be even a moment late!” Ur shouted from downstairs causing both men to wear looks of fear.

“Of course, honey!” Silver called before turning back to his son with a sheepish smile, “Let’s go now son, before she eats us alive. We’re coming!”

***

In the carriage Gray sulked, staring out the window while they passed by the shopping district. It clunked across the cobblestone as it ventured and soon they were off onto the back road towards their destination. The Heartfilias lived just outside of the town in the countryside so they could farm off the lands. Gray’s suit pulled as he slouched with his arms crossed over his chest, making him twice as uncomfortable.

“Gray, sit up.” Ur snipped, “You’ll wrinkle your clothes.”

“You're right, let me sit up because I care so much about how I look right now..” He snorted sarcastically. It was very rare for him to behave that way towards his stepmother, but given the circumstances of the day in his mind he had every reason to be a bit rebellious.

“Now don’t be that way, this could be the best day of your life!” Silver piped before Ur could scold Gray. He was smiling as optimistically as ever, a classic trait of his father.

Gray rolled his eyes feeling his stomach churn, “Tch, try the worst.”

Ur snapped her fan shut, “Now Gray, your father is right. It's a beautiful day outside-” she glanced up at the ominously dark skies, “well, it's a rather nice day. Anything can happen, you might find yourself smitten with the Heartfilia girl.”

Gray’s eyes went wide, “You can’t be serious. If I didn’t like the others what would make her any different?”

“She’s a Heartfilia! She’s been educated since she was a child on proper etiquette and she’s of remarkable status! Smart, elegant, beautiful,” his father held up three fingers, “those are the three you look for in a wife.”

Ur, who had been calmly fanning herself, gasped and whacked Silver across the head with her fan, “There’s much more to a woman than that!”

Silver chuckled, “O-Of course my dear, I’m just trying to make it easy for him!” He rubbed the growing lump on his head biting his lip in pain.

Gray wiped his face with exhaustion and he shook his head, “You should hear yourselves.”

As Ur was about to hit Silver again, she instead looked to Gray with a touch of sympathy in her eyes, “All we’re asking is that you meet her. If it had been up to your father he would’ve sold you off. Just, please, do your best and try not to embarrass us with something unexpected. That attitude of yours only gets you into trouble. Everything must go according to plan.”

Gray glanced at her a little less coldly before looking out the window again, “I know, okay. You keep reminding me.”

A peculiar estate struck his interest as they approached. There were high black gates that vines had started to twist up with a long gravel pathway to the front. It was an old looking mansion in a deep blue color, including pillars on the porch of the front door.  It looked as if it had been abandoned yet it was still very unique in design that had a tower in the middle that connected both sides of the estate. He couldn’t describe the way he felt looking at it but it was almost as if he had never noticed it before. They had taken the same road many times to go on business trips to the neighboring towns or to visit other families, such as the Dragneels.

“Dad, whose estate is that?” Gray asked before they completely passed the area. Silver peered out the window with Ur and they were both silent.

“I’m not quite sure, has it always been there?” Ur asked, looking at Silver. He appeared to be in deep thought as he gazed at it.

“I’m afraid I don’t know either. That’s very strange.” Silver noted as he knew all the wealthy families within the town’s range. They carried on down the road and both of his parents seemed to shrug it off easily.

Gray’s overwhelming curiosity of the mansion didn’t fade and for a moment he could have sworn that he saw a shadow by the gates. However, he did get distracted by their carriage making a sharp turn. He realized that they had arrived at their destination.

***

The Heartfilia estate was magnificent on the outside and the inside. The landscaping was to perfection as was the decor on the outside of the mansion. It was bigger than the Fullbuster’s and it seemed much flashier. It was fitted with tall windows and grand staircases, warm colors of gold and red, and on the outside four high columns in front of the door. The estate extended into two wings on either side that had doorways to the garden in the back. The Heartfilia’s were renowned for their magnificent gardens that had been in the family since the first line. Jude, the master of the home, was a very ridgid man who had lived in noble status for his whole life. He knew nothing of commonplace life, nor did he want to. He was very difficult to befriend and even harder to impress. His wife Layla, the matriarch of the Heartfilia’s, was known to be the most gentle and elegant woman of the family. She cared for her daughter Lucy more than the sun and stars, and she was also a very skilled magic user. In turn she taught her daughter everything she knew and many said Lucy was much like a reflection of her. In that area of the country, the Heartfilia’s were the closest to royalty.

Lucy was in her room preparing to meet the Fullbuster family. Her closest friend, Levy Mcgarden, was assisting her with her  hair as Lucy let out the biggest sigh.

“Lu-chan, I’m sorry.” Her blue haired friend said sadly as she brushed through her blonde locks.

“It’s okay, Levy-san. I wish he would just give up already! I knew when I made that arrangement with my father it was an awful idea. But I suppose I just wanted something to believe in..” Lucy grew quiet as she placed down her powder puff.

“I could’ve told you that he wouldn’t let it go either. Especially since he promised that you could be with Natsu if you couldn’t find a suitor. That’s why he’s bringing every eligible man possible.” Levy responded.

Lucy slammed her fist down on the vanity making Levy jump,“But why! I don’t understand why he has to hold onto this silly feud between the Dragneel’s and us. Natsu’s father doesn’t even care about it! If something happened centuries ago, why dwell on it?! Natsu told me that his father wants him to be happy and choose his own path, why is that so hard for me?”

Levy’s heart ached at the passion in Lucy’s voice. For as long as she had known her, Lucy was a force of nature. Perhaps that’s why no man could handle her, except for Natsu. Lucy came off as the perfect lady in front of her parents, but she revealed her true identity to every suitor and it drove them away one after the other. She could be rather headstrong and opinionated, she spoke up for what she believed in and most men wanted a quiet and complacent wife. That was truly the opposite of Lucy, which is why Natsu fell for her. When they met it was the first time Lucy felt shy around a man, because he liked her passion and her stubbornness, he fell in love with her.

The Dragneel family was very successful in coal mining and shipping, something that usually did not generate much income. Yet the coming times were growing dependent on it for their new means of transportation, trains. Natsu’s father’s business had shot from the ground up and although they were still small compared to the Heartfilia’s, they were growing rapidly. Her father said that new money was nothing compared to old money and continued to look down on the Dragneel’s every chance they got. In Lucy’s eyes he probably felt threatened by how likeable they were becoming with the other families.

“I swear Levy, I won’t go through with this. This Gray Fullbuster will be just like all the others, and I’ll get him to leave twice as fast. If my father wants to keep messing with me I’ll throw it right back at him.” Lucy said with her fist still clenched. Levy secured her hair into its braid and placed delicate golden flower pins in the top section.

“I believe in you, Lu-chan. That’s why as soon as you're done getting dressed, I arranged a bit of a surprise.” Levy grinned watching Lucy’s face light up.

“What is it?!!” The blonde giggled with excitement as Levy put her shoes on her delicate feet.

“Do you listen?” Levy laughed and went around behind Lucy to finish lacing up her dress. She pulled the pink threads tightly and wrapped it in a bow at the bottom of her back.

Lucy stepped over to the full length mirror and gasped twirling the dress around, “Wow, it’s so gorgeous! You did a fantastic job with this one, Levy-chan!”

“Well you know it’s easy to get it done so fast with magic.” Levy smiled admiring the beautiful light pink dress she had made and how beautiful it looked on Lucy. She always handmade all of Lucy’s gowns, an artisan skill she had learned over years of practice and perfected with the assistance of magic.

“Alright, as promised I’ll get your surprise. But you have to close your eyes, and keep them closed until I say. No peeks!” Levy teased.

The giddy blonde covered her eyes with her gloved hands and waited impatiently for Levy to reveal her surprise. The blue haired maid looked back to Lucy as she neared the balcony doors and opened them quietly. Natsu was perched in the large oak tree that connected to Lucy’s room and swiftly jumped down upon seeing Levy wave him in.

“She’s in there, just be quick. They’ll be coming to get her soon since she’s ready.” Levy whispered.

Natsu could see her blonde hair from the corner of his eye, “Thank you, Levy. I really owe you one for helping me do this during the day.”

Levy shook her head, “Don’t mention it, if it’s for Lucy I’d do anything.”

They entered the room and Levy went to the door of the upstairs hallway, “Alright Lu-chan, you can open your eyes!” She slipped out the door to give them privacy and as she felt the door click shut she heard the overjoyed squeals of her friend from inside the room.

“Natsu!!” Lucy cried, throwing her arms around him. He was the last thing she expected to see since most of their meetings happened at night when the rest of the estate was asleep. They would lay in her bed for hours talking, or sit on the balcony and watch the stars. Natsu was just as elated to see her admiring the dress she had on. He lifted her up and gave her a spin, “You look great Lucy, look at you!”

She giggled in overwhelming happiness when he put her down and felt her nose touch his before he pulled her closer for a kiss. Her face grew hot when she pulled away and Natsu was staring down at her with his eyes full of adoration.

“Maybe you look too good.” Natsu said while scrunching his eyebrows. He knew what was going on that day, it happened many times before. Natsu was not a very jealous man however, and he knew Lucy’s heart belonged to him. He did like to tease her often.

“I’m so happy to see you, even if this is a terrible day you’ve made it much better.” She said bashfully, having a struggle to maintain eye contact.

“It’s okay Luce, you know I promised you no matter what that we’re going to be together. I don't care what anyone says, if I get to spend forever with you it would all be worth it.” He was smiling the whole time, as he always was, as he had been during everything.

“Natsu..I-”

“Better yet, I could just steal you away.” He smirked with an evil glint in his eye, “I’m sure they wouldn’t miss you that much!’

Lucy gasped into a laugh, “Natsu! That’s awful!”

“What? We’ll send them letters,” he paused debating his words, “occasionally.” He joked laughing with her like they always did.

“I wish it was that easy..” she whispered with her hand on his chest. Her eyes grew sad with the underlying frustration apparent.

He shrugged, “I mean, it could be.”

Lucy’s eyes widened, “You mean..?”

“If he doesn’t want to give you up the easy way, he can give you up the hard way.” Natsu said nonchalantly. The words resonated with her and helped her to realize that with Natsu she had the chance to control her own fate, and she would take it.

Lucy grinned, taking him into a hug again, “You’re right. He doesn’t own me. This is the last time I’m going to be introduced, after today I’ll leave with you if he won’t give up.”

Natsu stroked her back and pulled her braid over her shoulder, “Go get em, don’t let whoever this bastard is fall in love with you or I’ll have to kill him.”

“I hate to see you go..” Lucy frowned as they walked towards the balcony together, “yet it seems soon enough I won’t have to see that.”

Natsu kissed her again briefly and jumped up onto the tree branch that led him there. “Keep holding onto that. I’ll be back before you know it. Maybe I’ll bring Happy next time, he’s been dying to see you!”

Lucy leaned against the doorframe keeping her smile as she thought of the cat, “I miss him too, I’ll be with you both.”

“I’ll see you, Lucy.” Natsu said with his cheeky smile and classic wave. Lucy’s heart swelled as she watched him disappear into the forest. But just as it was brought up, it sank down when he was no longer in sight. She placed her hands over her chest and looked up to the endless blue sky. If she had more courage she would’ve skipped this whole day and escaped with Natsu. She realized within that moment that it wasn’t about her amount of courage, it was about timing. Lucy knew that if the timing was right her heart would not fail to guide her onto her own path. She turned around reluctantly and closed the doors behind her crossing the room with her dress flowing. Her chest began to feel even heavier as the door to her room opened.

“Lady Lucy, the guests have arrived. Your parents request your presence at once.” Her head maid said standing sideways to keep the door propped open.

Lucy took a deep breath and tried to bite back her sadness with Natsu in her mind, “Let’s go then.”

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