#anyways help me write :-) in an inspired mood and have the next few days off work :-)

[ginalinettiofficial]

just saw someone do this and am FINALLY in the mood to participate in a trend ☺️❤️

so:

WRITING POLL

rules: make a 24-hour poll with the names of your wips and then for whichever wins, write one sentence for every vote it gets (but you should also write 1 sentence for every vote each of them gets)!

[nnight-dances]

EVERYTHING

PAIRING: yoon jeonghan x f!reader (ft. wonbin)

GENRE: angst, fluff toward the end

TROPES: established relationship, model!jeonghan, singer-songwriter!reader, jealousy, paparazzi interference and rumors, and so on.

NOTE: this was hard to write so bear with me and let me know if there's anything that absolutely sucks about this lol... i love jeonghan but he's so hard to write (maybe it's because i'm the most not normal about him)... anyway this plot is kinda inspired by a real life fight i had with a friend who i have ambiguous feelings so do with that what u will :) enjoy!!!!

"thanks, love," jeonghan mumbles into your cheek when you hand him the wallet he'd forgotten at home this morning. even in the dim moody lighting of the room, you can see he's genuinely happy to see you when he pecks your cheek. you smile and press your hand into his, "how bad was today?" 

he hums, "not too bad if i don't think about it too hard."

it's not out of the ordinary for a successful model like jeonghan to have the mind-numbing schedule he has but you can't help hurting for him anyway. "i'm sorry, babe," you squeeze his fingers and he nods in acknowledgement. he's too tired to say much most days so you've gotten accustomed to interpreting his silences. 

you were part of a band known for its jazzy music and you were its lead singer and song-writer, which meant it couldn't be helped that you had written more than a few love songs dedicated to yoon jeonghan, your lover of over two years now. in that time, you'd found a good beat with jeonghan, spending a good four months with both your heads' deep in work and only the nighttime spent in each other's arms. sometimes, jeonghan's international presence meant a few weeks of not even that. and as your band got bigger, you took on tours that only took you further from jeonghan. but after a rocky summer, came the breeze of fall. 

fall meant downtime for both your jobs, a time you could easily retreat and while the rest of the world turned vacation mode off, you would travel with jeonghan, whether it be across the world or just along his skin on a rainy weekend. it was easy with him, even when it wasn't. 

but recently, you'd found yourself wondering if it really was that easy still. tonight you're performing at this club, a local presence known for its hosting of musical influences, and jeonghan managed to escape his impossible day to watch you. you should feel loved, grateful for him, but when it's your turn to perform, you feel yourself drift away from him.

onstage, even as you introduce yourself and your band members, your eyes are on him. but he seems so far away. he watches you, not a smile on his face, just familiarity. as if he'd memorized all that you had to say, as if this was another box to tick on his long day. you clear your throat to steady your mind and open the first song, "this one's called heavy." it was an old song, perhaps one you'd only performed before you met jeonghan. which would explain how hopeless the melody was, how uncertain your voice got throughout, and scarily enough, how much you found yourself relating to it now, so many years later. 

after the song's over, you glance at jeonghan and he seems as stoic as ever, clapping in encouragement but without any mirth. you sigh, "woah, sorry to bring the mood down like that," you chuckle a little when the crowd laughs, "um, anyway, this next one's much happier, i promise. it's called loverboy… after my one and only, well, boy." you laugh again and spot jeonghan smile, too, all the way at the bar and your heart thaws a little, allowing you to get through the song without thinking again about how cold it felt in the room. 

you get through the next two songs without a hitch, perhaps because you let yourself go on autopilot mode and restrict yourself from even looking at jeonghan for your own sake, and come down with a heavy sigh. your bandmate, yves, touches you on the shoulder with a frown, "you good, y/n?" you nod, "yeah… i'm just tired. or something." she pats you on the head, "don't think too hard about things, dove. just let go. or something." you laugh at her witty piece of advice and thank her as you head for jeonghan, naturally. 

he wraps you in his arms when you find him, plenty kisses on your neck, "my girl did so well." 

you let out an uneasy groan, "i don't know, han, i feel like i was lame."

jeonghan pulls away with a frown, "no, you weren't. you were amazing. although that first song caught me off guard. it's been a while since you performed it."

"yeah… it was my decision but it felt right," you shrug. jeonghan's eyes take on a gravity you don't like when you say that so you avert your gaze, "but more importantly, when can we go home so i can get out of this dress and sleep?"

a year ago, jeonghan would've gone, "i'll help you take it off right now, love," but now he agrees solemnly, "i think we go as soon as everyone's focused on the next set." 

–

you know it's stupid, you do, to dwell over the details of your relationship this obsessively. but honestly, once you start there's just so much to pick at. to start, you felt more distant from jeonghan than ever, as if there was something unsaid in your way just keeping you from getting back close to him. and you hate it when things go unsaid. but you also knew jeonghan didn't care for spelling every little thing out, he could settle for a little discomfort till ignoring it was enough to make it go away. 

but that was just it, you couldn't take it anymore. you'd had a few fights with jeonghan in the past and they'd all come down to the fundamental differences in your natures. you liked for everything to be said and thought out, especially if either of you felt hurt or unheard. jeonghan liked silence, just simple gestures speaking a million words and routines in place to reaffirm your love. you knew it was better his way, simpler and easier, but you'd lived his way and now, you find yourself suffocating in the same bed as him. 

you stir away from him, rolling off the bed and onto your feet, and make your way to your makeshift studio, closing the door off incase jeonghan gets curious. you can just say you were working on a new song. once in, you throw yourself against a bean bag, head heavy in hands. 

"god, this is stupid," you mumble as the tears roll out. you spiral almost immediately, thinking back to everything that went wrong in the past few months. for one, jeonghan was away for your 25th birthday, for the whole week, and though you'd spent it surrounded by your friends and his apologetic gifts, you couldn't talk the bitterness away. then, he'd been mad at you when you told him your tour started during the week he had off, calling you a "workaholic" because you'd rather work than go with him on the beach trip he'd planned. it was unfair, he'd admitted later, but not after you'd spent the whole week of your tour crying yourself to sleep. 

to add to it all, were the recent rumors in the news about jeonghan's brand new 'mistress', a japanese model called nana. even before the first article came out, he'd called you outright, telling you his agency had caught a reporter in japan pestering nana if she was anything to jeonghan. that had only dullled the pain you felt when you read it, pictures of jeonghan and nana posing for a cover shoot. and it wasn't the first time jeonghan had looked absolutely stunning beside another person, far better than you'd looked with him in all the paparazzi snaps that circulated the net when questioning if you were still in the running for the attractive model. 

it wasn't the first time and yet, thanks to your already strained relationship, you felt more hurt than usual. this was also the longest scandal yet, ongoing past four weeks, perhaps because of jeonghan's frequent visits to japan. it really got you thinking how there were so many reasons for the two of them to be in the same room. 

– 

jeonghan, alone in your shared bed, inevitably wakes up, confused when he doesn't feel you. "y/n?" he calls out, hoping you might just be using the washroom, but the lights are off and there's no sound in the bedroom. "my love?" he calls out louder, propping himself up on his elbows. when he hears no response, he falls onto his back with a weary sigh.

there was something up with you. you'd been acting… distant since the past two weeks. you'd pull away from his kisses a few beats too soon and wake up long before you had to. he wondered if he should ask you because he knows that's what you'd want but whenever he got to sit down next to in full seriousness, he'd go weak, missing your presence when he was away. 

he pulls out his phone, skimming throught the texts that had accumulated over the few hours he was asleep. there's a few from nana, the model he was rumored to be having an affair with. 

nana: another stupid article :( 

jeonghan sighs at the link she'd forwarded him. in full honesty, he'd all but developed a good friendship with nana while in japan, where he'd been previously lost without a good guide telling him where to go. given all his staff was korean, they could only be as useful as a google search. nana, however, had taken up to herself to show him the local spots, the shopping district where he'd been able to secure gifts for you, anticipating your needs before you'd known them.

you know all this, of course. jeonghan had offered to break all ties with nana if it bothered you but you'd been insistent that he keep his relationship with her, especially when it kept him sane abroad. 

you'd said you were fine, so how come you weren't next to him, mumbling sweet nothings into his chest like you always loved to? when you couldn't sleep, you would wake him up with your persistent kisses, apologizing when he did finally come to, but then talking about everything in the world from your outfit tomorrow to your plans in the next five years. 

"are we…" you'd started one night but then stopped, going hot and hiding your face into the pillow.

"are we what, love?" jeonghan pried you off the pillow and onto his arm, pushing his face close to yours so you couldn't run. 

"are we serious, han?" you finally asked, quietly. "you know, like, long-term serious?"

"hmm, let me think… i don't know we've only been dating for 20 months so i wouldn't get your hopes–"

you hit his chest with a muffled giggle, "you know what i meant!"

"i don't, really?"

you avert your gaze, "are we ever gonna, you know, be married? have kids? that kind of thing…"

jeonghan's heartbeat had sped up despite all his nonchalant facades and his face disclosed his flustered state causing you to go redder. "it's- forget about it if it's not something you've thought about–"

"of course i've thought about marrying you, doll," jeonghan asserts, arm around your waist to stop you from flailing around, his fingers draw circles on your exposed stomach. "of course i want to be committed to you for life, y/n. and don't even get me started on kids. i know it doesn't seem like it because i'm such a cool guy but i'm crazy for kids–"

"no, it's pretty obvious, you basically lose your head everytime we see a couple with a newborn baby–"

"okay, well, there you have it. i want kids with you, y/n."

you mull over his words in silence for a moment and then, "not now though, right?" you say, "we're both too succesful in our careers to… start a home."

jeonghan palms your cheek lovingly, "i think what we have right now is already home. but you're right, i think we ought to wait some more time. till it feels right."

till it feels right, he'd told you and now he kind of regrets it. he should've asked you to marry you right there so you'd never have a reason to doubt your relationship ever again. but again, that too was just a dream. 

– 

jeonghan was off to japan for a week. yet again, you think, holding your tears back on a sunday afternoon when you wake up to a resounding silence in your home. you need to find a way to make things right, you know. you need to talk to jeonghan but honestly, your head hurts so much you'd rather just forget all about him.

that's why you find yourself crashing at yves' place for the next few days, her house known to be a hub for lost souls and good music. you spend your afternoons working on new music, inspired by your new surroundings, writing about everything but jeonghan and as soon as it hit seven, you'd be helping yourself to martinis, thanks to yves' well-equipped bar. 

you were amid making yourself a drink while yves went over some notes and recordings you'd made this afternoon when she sat up with a weird look in her eyes. "y/n?"

"what is it? is it horrible?"

"no, it's not that. it's just… this feels like a different person," she comments, finger scrolling through your lyrics. "like a younger version of you? it has the same lonely vibe to it. i'm a fan of it to be honest, but i'm just wondering… is everything good?"

you chuckle, "yves, you ought to have known that if i'm here for an extended period of time, nothing is good… but i appreciatey you asking. i'll be fine, eventually." 

your friend is lost in thought for a while and you sip your drink when her phone pings with a message. she reads it and turns to you with a glint in her eye. 

"so… does that mean you'll go clubbing with me tonight?" 

– 

if you were gonna embrace a younger self, you might as well do it all, you thought, putting on a dress you'd loaned from yves. it was shorter than anything you'd worn recently and a light pink you never naturally gravitated towards. but you had to admit, it did look quite good on your figure when you looked in the mirror. you embellished your eyes with glitter, lining your eyes with mascara and a thin wing at the ends. 

the club itself is nicer than you'd expected and you're glad you'd dressed up as much as you did, pursing your lips to make sure the lip gloss you'd applied was still intact. yves pulls you to a table with her friends, some of them mutual to you, others complete strangers to you. either way, they're all fun, welcoming you without a question. 

one of the familiar faces is wonbin from a contemporary band known for its unique take on house music. he immediately materializes by your side when you've downed your first shot of the night, large grin overtaking his face. "you're here?" 

you tilt your head at his question, "i am! it's weird, isn't it?"

"a little," he shrugs, "you stopped coming out with us after you got swept up with that pretty model boy of yours."

you grow a little uneasy at the mention of jeonghan's name, "yeah, well, i thought it would be good for my music if i reconnected to my past a little. let myself live a little."

wonbin smiles, "that's nice, i love that. and to that," he brings out two more shots, handing you one, "cheers!" you hesitate for a moment but then catch yves looking at you encouragingly, and clink glasses with him, downing the drink in a go. 

that's all it really takes for you to let go. your body finds the music's rhythm faster than anyone else in the group so you take to the dance floor, and wonbin follows you, telling yves he'd look out for you. not that you need it. 

it's been a few songs that you've been dancing around, with wonbin's body getting closer to you with each time. you blink when his hand is at your waist, and you clear your throat, "i'm gonna go get some water!" wonbin grabs a hold of your wrist, "i'll come with!" 

it's a little uncomfortable, the way he's following you around, but you reassure yourself it was only for good intentions. a few more songs you keep yourself close to yves and her friends, feeling wonbin's presence heavily on your shoulder, but then you're a few more shots in and it doesn't really matter. 

it's only when you return from the bathroom when things go awry. it starts with your phone blowing up with texts and a call from jeonghan. in the loud music of the club, you can barely think, let alone talk to your boyfriend who you'd been ignoring for a week so you decline. when you make back to your table, your phone goes off again. jeonghan again. 

before you can register how odd it is of him to double-call you without good reason, wonbin's pulling you over next to him. you sit with a groan, "wonbin, i need to take this call–"

"y/n, you need to look at this. it's about jeonghan and that japanese model–"

yves cuts wonbin, "wonbin, get the fuck off her!" she tries to pry his arm off you but you find yourself unmoving when you catch jeonghan's figure on screen. he's laughing next to someone, a girl– oh, it's nana. she leans in close, a little too close, and you're not sure if it's your spinning head, but she keeps on getting closer, close until her lips are on jeonghan's and–

"i feel sick," you exclaim suddenly, clutching your stomach. wonbin's strong arms are around you in a moment and yves can't fight him off when he leads you through to crowd, weaving through the impossibly long line to the bathrooms. despite everything, you're thankful for him when he holds your hair up when you throw your guts up, tears mixing with the alcohol in your system. 

when you're done, you ask yves if she can take you home and she's already ready with your bag over her shoulder. 

"y/n, wait!" wonbin stops you, hand on your elbow, "can i talk to you for a sec–"

"wonbin, please, you've done enough, she needs to go home–"

"go home to what exactly?" he questions and you have to physically restrain yourself from falling to your knees with the sobs that wreck your body, "i'm here for you, y/n, if you ever need–"

down in your bones you know jeonghan better than anyone, know he would never be the kind to cheat on you, to ever leave you for the wolves like this. but honestly, the news ring out louder than anything in your head. "yoon jeonghan with ito nana, confirmed? was his little singer-songwriter girlfriend just a joke?" 

that's how you feel right now. little. and like a joke. you simply nod at wonbin and turn around to leave the club before the music can suffocate you any more. 

"i'm sorry, y/n, i didn't think he'd act up like that–"

"it's okay, yves, you didn't do anything," you tell her and look down at your phone at the photo of jeonghan that shows up every time he calls you. it was one you'd taken on your very first dates, of him sitting prettily across the table with a chopstick in each hand. 

"you should talk to him, y/n," yves pats your back, "you don't have to go back to him but you have to hear him out, right?"

you sigh, "you're right." 

you accept the call as yves leads you to a silent corner and gives you some space as she goes off for a smoke. you hold your breath when you hear jeonghan's voice. he sounds distraught.

"y/n? love?" 

all you can do is sigh to delay your tears. "hey," you say coarsely and jeonghan's losing his mind. 

"baby, can you stay where you are? i'm on my way, okay? i… i don't know what you've seen but you know it's not the truth. okay? just," you hear him run into someone and apologize. was he running to you? that would be crazy. "just let me talk to you."

you take a deep breath, "i'm waiting here." 

you don't question how he found you, it's likely your location on life360, a feature you'd added a year into your relationship just to know where the other was. just in case. 

you hadn't opened the app in a while, there hadn't been a reason. even if you knew where he was, he'd be far enough that it didn't mean enough. 

it takes a few more minutes before you hear jeonghan's voice on the sidewalk outside the club. he's in a white shirt that's been untucked from his pants. he's disheveled, and you can only wonder why. 

"y/n," he says, out of breath, sweat beading his forehead. 

"did you run here?"

"the car was stuck in the traffic so i told my driver to catch up," he inhales deeply, "i had to see you." 

"and why is that exactly?"

jeonghan sighs, "love, i think we both know why. that clip of nana kissing me probably found you by now?"

you look at your feet, "i saw it. i thought you guys were just friends?" you pause and before jeonghan can speak, you continue, "or was that just a lie silly little me believed?" 

jeonghan's hands find your shoulders, "there is absolutely nothing between me and her. i thought my platonic feelings were reciprocated because we'd been normal for so long. but then today, she… she kissed me and i realized that was me being stupid." 

"of course she was into you," you mumble. 

"i'm sorry, i really am. not just for this but for the past few weeks. or more than at. i don't know how long it's been but i feel like i haven't been putting you first."

"jeonghan, you have to know that it just sounds like you're overcompensating so i forget about the nana stuff."

"there is no nana stuff," he tells you, "and if you must know, i was always planning to come home a few days earlier. you've been so cold lately and i thought i could surprise you. but then you stopped responding to my texts and i found out through your bandmates you hadn't been home in a week. i got worried and in my head."

"i admit, i let nana distract me, but as nothing more than a friend. because when you're gone, i also lose my closest friend. i have no one but you to talk to you, love, i can't trust anyone, not after today. and i'm so sorry that i don't talk to you more, that i don't address problems as they come up."

you feel weaker than ever, head still down as tears roll down. "y/n? are you crying? baby, look at me, please."

"han, i really don't know what to do anymore," you finally break out, letting him take you into his arms, "i've been so miserable without you. i… i can't do it anymore." you take a deep breath to gather your thoughts. 

"you're so good at accepting changes and moving on from little fights. but i'm crazy. i get stuck in a spiral for days over the little things and after your scandal started, i… i can't help but think they're right." 

you pull away to look jeonghan in the eyes, "maybe i'm not the right one–"

"no," jeonghan cuts you off with a hiss that surprises both of you, "i will not have you think the stupid crap they're writing in the news, okay? you're my love, y/n, you're my everything. seriously, did you not hear me? i don't care about anyone else like i care about you. god, i'm stupid for not having married you when i had the chance."

"han, i don't know, i'm so tired," you rest your head against his. "can we go home for now?" 

later that night, you sit side by side with jeonghan on your side of the bed. you've taken your shoes off but not your dress. "is that a new dress?" he asks lowly. 

"i borrowed it from yves," you reply, adjusting the straps to sit right, "does it look fine?"

you feel like you're in a liminal space with jeonghan right now. you haven't broken up but you're not sure if everything's back to normal just yet. funnily, it feels like the first few months of getting to know him. he has the same boyish nervousness about him as his hand reaches out to brush your hair out of your face. 

"you look so good i'm mad i didn't buy you this dress," he says, "or that i didn't get to dance with you in it." 

you sniff, "i wish you'd been there tonight." and after a moment, "i wish we weren't so different."

and then again, "i wish we were the same person so i could know your thoughts inside and out without having to bother you." 

"it's not a bother, i'm just bad at it," jeonghan says, "and i don't wish we were the same person. because i love how different we are. i have so much fun with you, learning your ways and fighting with you."

"fighting is fun?" you ridicule him.

"only in retrospect, of course. i never want to see you look as hurt as you did tonight." 

he reaches out for your hand and you let him, intertwining your fingers. he places your joined hands against his lips and then back into his lap. "i love you, y/n. i love you more than everything."

"i thought i was everything?" you ask through a half-concealed giggle.

"don't tease me when i'm being vulnerable, love," he whines, "i'm serious. i'm sorry for making you feel so ignored all this while. it was never my intention. everything i did, i did because i'm stupid and still learning. but i always want to be with you. i want to spend everyday with you." 

"i love you too, han," you kiss his shoulder, "i'm sorry, too, for being so closed off. you don't have to feel so bad, it was partially my fault too."

jeonghan stands up, pulling you up after him. before you can ask him what's wrong, he hugs you tight, breath soft on your exposed back. your arms find his waist, rubbing his back in a reminder of how much you love him. slowly, you're not sure who starts it, you both start swaying to no song in particular, just to the rhythm of your heartbeats. he twirls you around with a smile and kisses your forehead. 

"on that note, my love," jeonghan stills you, tiptoeing across the room to his bag, ruffling through before finding what he was looking for. it's only when he gets on a knee that you comprehend what's happening, "i know i haven't been the most promising husband material but i promise, it will only get better from here. i've made the mistake of not doing this earlier and i can't wait to make you mine forever. so, y/n, will you marry me?"

with that, he opens the black box in his hands, revealing the precious diamond ring inside.

you've never fallen to your knees faster, taking his hands in yours, "yes, of course, i'll marry you, han! i–" you fall short of words when you look at the ring in his hands, "i had no idea you were planning on– god, i'm– i love you, han."

"part of the reason i wanted to come back faster was to do this," he tells you softly, slipping the ring onto your finger, "to finally propose to you." 

"finally?" you question, sensing some hidden meaning behind his words. 

"well, i have had this ring for a year now. i considered getting a newer model but this one was just too gorgeous." he takes your left hand in his, "and it looks prettier on you than i could have ever imagined."

"a year?" you ask in disbelief, "han! you– why didn't you tell me?" you feel stupid really, knowing how long he'd planned on marrying you for real. his love for you looms over you and you can't help but feel lightheaded. 

"because i didn't think it was the right time yet. i was wrong about that, of course. any time is right with you. i just needed to make you mine." 

you throw your arms around him, tearing up again, "yoon jeonghan, god, you make me crazy."

"so is that a good crazy, as in you'll write happy love songs about me again or… as in i make you want to scream and shout?"

"honestly, a bit of both," you laugh against his shoulder, "and about the happy love songs… i think you should know but i wrote some really depressing songs while you were away. yves loves them so they'll end up on the next album but i know you don't necessarily like them so–"

"what are you talking about? i love all of your songs."

"han," you kiss his cheek with a smile, "you don't have to lie. i know you feel weird about them. and that's okay. but i hope you know, i'm in a different space when i write those, and i will continue to write those. but they don't reflect the truth in any way, okay?"

he narrows his eyes, his lips pouty, "you mean to say i'm not good enough for you to make you happy for the rest of you life?"

"that is not what i said, babe, and you know it," you laugh again, letting him pull you onto his lap. he kisses you once and then twice. "if you say so, love." 

you spend your first night engaged to jeonghan the best way possible: talking to him. you lay down next to him, in your pyjamas, feeling fuller than ever. he tells you everything he'd thought or done in the past few months, scrolling through his camera roll for reference and kissing you whenever you'd have a giggling reaction. when it was your turn, you pulled up your notes app with lyrics from the past few months and read some select ones out for him.

"oh, oh, and the way i was gonna introduce this one was like this," you clear your throat as if taking on your stage persona, "this one's called no one's prettier because no one's prettier than my boy." 

you fall into a laughing fit with jeonghan, a slight blush on his cheeks when he pulls you close, "someone's down bad for me, huh?"

"yes, sir, i am," you say back, smugly, "i love my boy, sorry, my fiancé so much and i just can't shut the fuck about him."

"god, say that again."

"what? that i can't shut the fuck up about my pretty fiancé? my adorable loverboy? my honest and reliable husband?" the last word feels so right on your tongue when uttered for jeonghan, even though you'd never said it before.

"you're my everything, love," mumbles jeonghan with a big smile, kissing you sqaure on the mouth. 

–

"...so the past few months have been a rough trek for the band," you speak into the microphone, looking onto the solemn crowd with a soft smile, "and when i say the band, i really just mean me. i think i aged by like ten years." the crowd laughs. 

"but i came out stronger, and more engaged than ever," you wiggle your left hand at the crowd, throwing a smile at jeonghan at the front, watching with a smitten grin. "so here's a new song i wrote. it's called everything because my love is everything to me." 

when your set ends, you rush to jeonghan's arms and before you can ask him he'd liked the new song, he kisses your hands. "that was perfect, love. i've never felt more seen by a song." 

you let him shower you with kisses as you walk him through the lyrics a little. you're in the middle of explaining the bridge when you're interrupted by a call of your name. 

"y/n?"

you turn around to find wonbin standing before with a rose in his hand. "oh, hi, wonbin!" 

jeonghan doesn't do anything to hide the dislike on his face for the man. after all, you'd told him about everything that happened that night at the club and had barely managed to calm him down after. "hey," he nods at jeonghan who simply raises his brows at him.

wonbin glances at jeonghan's arm around your waist and sighs. "congratulations on your engagement, y/n," he holds out the rose, "and i'm sorry about everything that happened with us. i hope you know it's only because i have nothing but admiration for you. and maybe one day–" 

"thank you for your kind words, wonbin," jeonghan cuts him off, taking the rose and handing it to you with a small smile. "but we need to be going somewhere. sorry. see you around. maybe at the wedding?" 

as you walk away from wonbin, you chuckle at jeonghan, "didn't know you were still worked up about that guy?"

"of course i am! he tried to take advantage of you in a hard time! i'm just too pretty to get into a fight or i would've thrown hands long ago."

you laugh as you kiss him on the cheek, "right, of course. my baby, let's go home." 

[newtthetranswriter]

PLEASE WRITE THIS WHEN U HAVE TIME. I know your requests are closed, but I wanted to request this because my memory is very bad & I forget a lot of my ideas.

transfem reader w toji fushiguro (or gojo if you’d rather write him) who has gender dysphoria about her body? maybe she does everything she can to appeal to the stereotypically feminine view—makeup, hair, heels—but when she sees the women that flirt w her boyfriend, she can’t help but feel inferior. maybe her body’s too rectangular or her chest is too small.

I can’t seem to find any fics like this, and I really like your blog 🙏🙏 again, please write this when your requests are open.

Word count: 1932

Pairing Satoru Gojo x Trans!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Self doubt, mentions of transphobia (internalized and old fashioned views), ooc gojo?

A/n: Hello Thank you so much for requesting. I know you said I could wait to write it until I opened requests again, but I just felt inspired by this so I hope you enjoy it. Also I went with Gojo mainly because I'm not the biggest toji fan. I am trans masculine so I’m not 100% sure if I captured the feelings trans fem people feel so if there are any mistakes please let me know. Anyways enjoy and remember to Hydrate or Diedrate.

Dating Satoru was a dream come true. I mean seriously never would I have thought such a high ranking member of Jujutsu society would even look my way let alone The Satoru Gojo. But I guess I got lucky, and even though Satoru is one of the most loving people I have ever met, I can’t help but to doubt myself.

Afterall life as a transgender person is hard enough as it is but add the strict and stuff beliefs of the older generation of Jujutsu sorcerers and you have a breeding ground for self doubt. Everytime Satoru and I are in public or have to interact with one of the other clans, my mind is flooded with terrible thoughts. ‘How can Satoru stand to be seen with me, there are so many more beautiful women out there.’ or ‘He’d be better off with a cis woman who is truly beautiful.’ It’s hard to quiet these thoughts when I’ve heard these comments from the higher ups in passing and sometimes I believe them.

And today of all days, the thoughts are more precisdent as me and Satoru are out on one of the few dates we get with his busy schedule. I had spent hours before trying to look as beautiful as possible to make this date perfect, I had Shoko help me pick a nice outfit and the perfect pair of heels. I spent most of the day perfecting the perfect hairstyle and make-up look for the night. Eventually with major words of encouragement from Shoko and Satoru himself I was ready, I even started the night feeling confident that I looked amazing.

But alas all good feelings come to an end. Once we were at the restaurant, I couldn’t help but notice all the beautiful women staring at Satoru and I mean I can’t blame them but it just caused the thoughts to surface again. Noticing my slight shift in mood Satoru turned to me, “Hey is everything okay?” He asked as he placed his arm around my waist. Not wanting to worry him I just smiled and nodded at him. “Okay… but you know if there’s something bothering you let me know, Ok?” He said, I could tell he was skeptical but he dropped the topic when the hostess asked us to follow her to the table.

Once seated we talked briefly about how his students were doing and how curses were becoming more annoying as of late before dropping the topic of work and just talking about tv and plans for the next couple weeks. “And I was thinking that we could go check out the new mall that opened up recently, I saw some beautiful dresses I thought you might like and would love to get you a few,” Satoru explained as he looked at the menu in front of him.

“That sounds lovely.” I responded and was planning on continuing the conversation when a waitress approached the table.

Looking at the young woman, I couldn’t help but notice how she was the picture of feminine beauty. Curvy in all the right places, perfect hair and subtle but gorgeous make-up. “Hello I’m Ally, I’ll be your server tonight, can I get you any drinks?” Hearing her speak for some reason made my heart hurt, knowing I would likely never sound as young and girlish as her. 

I noticed Satoru looked at me and I quickly wiped the look of doubt off my face before he could say anything. I guess it worked because he turned his attention back to the woman, and quickly ordered us some wine and an appetizer we had agreed on. The waitress wrote the order down before excusing herself to take care of the order. Once she had walked away Satoru turned back to me. “Are you absolutely positive nothing is wrong?” He asked as he placed his hand over mine on the table. Once again not wanting to sour the mood of the evening, I nodded and said I was fine and turned the topic back to the previous conversation.

After we got our drinks and we ordered our entrees, I couldn’t help but notice that our waitress was checking in on us more than what is normally expected. She would stop by the table every time she walked by to check if the wine was to our liking or if we needed anything while we waited for the main course. I quickly picked up on how she would get slightly closer to Satoru’s side of the table each time, it was also clear that Satoru hadn’t noticed the subtle comments being directed at him. I couldn’t help but think that he was saying anything about it because he liked being hit on by a cis woman. Maybe he secretly hates the fact that I'm trans and just doesn’t want to hurt my feelings. Eventually the thoughts got the best of me and tears started to well up in my eyes and it was taking everything out of me not to burst into sobs.

Once the waitress left again saying she would check on our food, Satoru turned to look at me, and I could see his eyes widen exponentially even through his dark sunglasses. “Hey, it’s ok. What’s wrong and don’t say nothing, something is clearly bothering you.” He said gently but sternly as he squeezed my hand and pulled his sunglasses off so I could make unobstructed eye contact. 

Not having the strength to hold it in any longer I let out a few of my thoughts, maybe a little too loud for the setting but I couldn’t hold it in. “Why are you with me Satoru? You could have anyone, so why me?” It took the white haired male a second to process what was said but before he could speak, I continued. “I’m not beautiful like every woman here, I’m not curvy in all the right spots, my make up looks like a middle schooler did it, so why do you stay with me, when you could have a real woman?” I hated saying it but it was true in my mind, or at least I believed it. I wasn’t thin with big boobs and a big butt, I’m just flat. My figure is the opposite of curvy, I have broad shoulders and the flattest chest. I can’t grasp how someone so handsome can sit across from someone like me and say that I’m beautiful when so many better people are around.

After my mini outburst it was almost silent in our area of the restaurant. Satoru just looked at me stunned, he knew I suffered from dysphoria but he thought he had done a good job helping me feel better. The six-eyes user looked down at the table before speaking. “I know you have trouble believing me when I say this but you are the most beautiful person I have ever met. I don’t care if you aren’t curvy or if you struggle with make-up sometimes, No matter what you are beautiful to me.” As he said this he stood from the table and whipped the tears that had escaped my eyes from my face. While he was focused on me I noticed our waitress coming back this time with our food in hand. Seeing me look in that direction Satoru waved over the woman. “Can you have those put in togo boxes for us? My partner and I are done here.” I looked up at him shocked, but before I could protest he spoke again. “And before that can you please have your supervisor come speak with me?” Now I’m extremely confused.

“Satoru, what are you doing? I thought we were going to eat here?” I asked, confused, as I watched a nervous looking man approach. Satoru just stood up straight, put his sunglasses on and turned to the man who I’m now guessing is the supervisor.

“You must be the supervisor. I would like to file a complaint about the waitress who served me and my lovely partner here.” Satoru spoke in his formal tone he reserved for the higher ups, it was clear he was upset but he sounded so calm. “I was just trying to enjoy one of the rare occasions when I can pamper my Love, and your waitress spent most of the night hitting on me. Now I tried to be understanding and let it slide, but after numerous comments that clearly made my partner upset, I have decided that we will be taking our food to go and we will not be returning to this establishment.” While I didn’t expect that, I wasn’t expecting the look of concern that washed over the man’s face at my boyfriend's comment. “I will also be pulling all support from this restaurant that is provided by the Gojo estate.” With that final comment Satoru turned to me and offered his hand for me to take, as I stood up, the waitress from before brought our food now in to-go boxes and handed it to Satoru.

With food in hand we started to exit the restaurant, but before we could reach the door, the supervisor ran after us calling for Satoru. “Mr. Gojo please reconsider, I’ll fire this woman. Flirting with customers is against restaurant policy. Please do not pull the funding.” At first It seemed that he was actually upset about what the woman did but with the last sentence it was clear he was actually more worried about the money the Gojo clan apparently provided the business. 

“No, I will be pulling the funding. You clearly care more about the money then how your employees are treating your top investors.” Satoru said not even looking at the man. With that we left and went home.

Once we were home and finished with our food, we laid down in our large bed and just cuddled with each other. Breaking the silence I asked a question I had been thinking about since we left. “Why did you do that?” I felt him looking at me clearly confused by the sudden question. “I mean tell that guy you were pulling the funding from the restaurant, I didn’t know the Gojo clan had investments in such things.” I was confused.

I felt Satoru chuckle as I laid on his chest before he spoke. “First, The Gojo clan has investments in a lot you don’t know about. Secondly I told him that because I meant it.” I lifted my head to look at him. As if reading my mind he continued, “I’m not going to support a business that only cares about the money and only has a problem with staff being disrespectful when their funds are threatened.” I nodded and was about to say something before he stopped me. “Plus I could tell you were uncomfortable the entire time and were just holding back for my sake. I want you to know that if there is ever a problem I will deal with it.”

“Thank you Satoru.” I said laying my head back on his chest. I decided it was probably time to go to sleep when I let out a small yawn. 

As I drifted off, I heard Satoru speak one last time. “I love you, Y/n, don’t ever forget it. And I mean it when I say you are the most beautiful person I have ever seen, I could never wish for more.” With that he placed a kiss to the top of my head and we both fell asleep enjoying each other's embrace.

[thebroccolination]

FOUR THEMED THAI BL SERIES RECOMMENDATIONS

by me (key)

INTRO

I've done top-ten lists before, but I think a better approach than a numbered list is to order them by why I'm recommending them. Some of my favorites are well-known, but a few gems definitely went overlooked in international fandom for various reasons (accessibility, aired during an over-saturated season, etc.), so I wanted to give them a li'l well-deserved boost. Anyway, here are four of my top fifteen selected at random:

¶ IF YOU LIKE A SOLID PLOT

Triage (2022)

Synopsis: Third-year emergency medicine resident Tin has to cope with a deluge of different patients every day. Up until the eighteenth, that is. Tin's life is transformed when university student Tol's car is overturned and he's rushed to the emergency room in serious condition. That night doesn't end when Tin fails to save Tol's life, though. When Tin next wakes, he finds himself in a time loop, a loop he won't be able to leave until he's altered Tol's fate.

Review: This was TaeTee's comeback series after years apart, and it was a massive hit domestically. Due to geoblocking and paywalls (AISPLAY is a notoriously challenge for international viewers), it didn't really take off as a fandom among overseas fans. But oh, is this worth it. Whatever way you choose to watch, I highly, highly recommend this one. The time-loop premise is genuinely fascinating, and so is the actual story structure.

And there are cats!!!

Plot-wise, I'd say Triage has the best writing of any BL series I've seen. More than once, I was texting a friend who'd already seen it, "This is like a show-show!" And what I mean by that is that a lot of BL series still seem to lean on genre-specific tropes to please audiences. They don't really bother themselves with things like character arcs or basic storytelling elements. And those series have value too! Sometimes mindless entertainment is all we want. But if you're in the mood for a series with a plot, some mystery, one of my favorite female characters, one of my favorite side couples, and some brilliant character arcs, definitely give Triage a watch.

Tin is brilliant and analytical but a very broken lightbulb when it comes to most social situations.

Important Note: If you've seen Cutie Pie and/or Love in the Air, you need to see Triage just to witness the incredible duality of Tonnam's acting skills. Sing easily is one of my top five favorite BL characters. He's the grumpy parent friend who will call you stupid for working when you're sick and then bring you soup and an electric blanket. I love him so much, so please love him also and help me write more SingGap fics please there are only like three of us out here and we need more please we're very hungry.

¶ IF YOU LIKE CHARACTER-DRIVEN STORIES

Between Us (2022)

Synopsis: Team is a talented swimmer who just entered university. However, when it comes to swim competitions, he's never able to perform to the best of his abilities. When swim team upperclassman Win comes to know that the problem doesn't lie in Team's abilities or dedication, but rather his trauma and the sleeping difficulties it causes, he offers up his own room for Team to stay in. With the comfort of company, Team's performance starts to improve and feelings start to grow between the two young men. But Team isn't the only one with issues from his past preventing him from moving forward. Win struggles with how to handle receiving love and how to give special treatment to those closest to him. Occurring parallel to the events of "Until We Meet Again," this story focuses on how Win and Team come to know and inspire growth in each other.

We're in The House of WinTeam, you knew it'd be here.

Review: Between Us was first announced in May 2020 (on Win's birthday no less!). WinTeam got me into Thai BL through two gif sets here on Tumblr that I randomly stumbled across in February 2020. I marathoned what was available of Until We Meet Again, and it became and continued to be my favorite BL series until Between Us started airing last month.

Between Us is essentially a series about character studies. Like its parallel series Until We Meet Again, most of the conflicts in Between Us are internal and stem from various sources of trauma (survivor's guilt, parental neglect, parental abuse, etc.). These internal conflicts prevent characters from reaching for love and personal attachments because they don't feel like they deserve them.

This is basically Self-Sabotage: The Series.

The Production's Pandemic Problem: Depictions of trauma, friendship, and queer experiences in Until We Meet Again and Between Us are all handled and framed with profound respect and understanding, and I think a lot of that comes from its director and screenwriter. Both LazySheep and New Siwaj have shared their personal experiences with depression, and throughout the pandemic, they supported each other through their respective struggles. New was running a small agency/studio and supporting actors and staff while legally unable to film any series, and Sheep faced additional ongoing medical conditions along with a demanding full-time job that prevented her from working on Hemp Rope's script adaptation.

At what I presume was a particularly low point for Sheep last August, New made a public announcement that he'd be giving her an unlimited amount of time to heal and rest. He explained that he didn't want to weigh her down more with a deadline, so he made it clear to fans and general public alike that she had his full support and could recover at whatever pace she needed.

Meanwhile, BounPrem had gotten an incredible boost of popularity from their roles in Until We Meet Again…right as covid cases ramped up around the world. For the next two years, they were limited in what roles they could accept because their priority has always been their roles as WinTeam in Between Us. No one had any idea when cases would subside or rise and alter production schedules, and because of that, the only roles BounPrem felt they could accept without affecting Between Us were bit roles in other series. They never complained about the wait, they never abandoned Between Us even though they easily could have moved on, and they never treated their smaller roles with anything but good-natured dedication. In October of 2021, Boun surprised Prem with a cake at an event and, after Prem clapped along with the crowd looking for the recipient, Boun explained with a smile that it was Team's birthday, and Prem laughed with utter delight. No one loves WinTeam or Between Us more than BounPrem.

Studio Wabi Sabi announced Between Us in May 2020 to the delight of fans and actors alike, but the pandemic made the production they envisioned all but impossible. For example, they needed the university as a filming location, but it had been shut down. The Thai government also threw out sporadic restrictions on series production: at one point only twelve people could be present on a film set at a time. Wabi Sabi actually did have production of one series (7 Project) canceled for six months, so they'd already experienced what might happen if they started work on Between Us during the early stages of the pandemic. As fans' complaints increased, with some pointing to the release of new series produced by larger, better-resourced studios like GMMTV, New responded honestly. He tweeted more than once that he could have produced Between Us at any time during the pandemic if all he wanted was the fans' money. He could have filmed a cheap, extremely limited series and thrown it up online to get it done and out of the way.

It's because he was devoted to Sheep's story, his actors' careers, and his own craft that New waited until he could begin filming with reasonable confidence that the government wouldn't cavalierly shut it down. It's because he waited that we have the beautifully filmed, beautifully written, beautifully acted series we have now.

The series itself is up to episode six now, and it's above and beyond what I could have imagined. Sheep clearly had the time and space to create the best possible adaptation from her unfinished novel, BounPrem have had years to build on their mutual trust and professional relationship, and New had the patience to wait until conditions were best.

This has mostly been about the production side, but that will always be a big part of why I recommend this series to people, even once it's finished and I can review it as a whole. The passion and patience is clear in every scene, and because of that I can't recommend this series more wholeheartedly.

¶ IF YOU WERE A THEATRE KID

Something in My Room (2022)

Synopsis: Phat just moved into a new rental house with his mother. There, he meets Phob, an amnesiac ghost, and has to help Phob solve the mystery of his death within forty-nine days of Phob's death. Will they succeed?

Review: I could have titled this category many things: if you like women, if you like multifaceted characters, if you like stories that explore death with unique culturally specific aspects, if you like couples who support and learn from each other, if you like beautiful use of music, if you like LOVE, then Something in My Room.

But there's just something very theatrical to SIMR. (Literally, at one point.) It feels experimental in some ways it's filmed, it lets actors take their time with some moments in ways that feel rewarding, and I just…it feels a little niche to me in that way.

There are four complex female characters in this series. FOUR. And not minor characters, either. Major, significant characters. The actor who plays their landlady is incredible and having the time of her life being enthusiastically spooky, and I ship her with Phat's mother and no one can stop me. Phat's friend Dream also has a fantastically complicated backstory that influences the story directly. Not to mention Phob's mother and just??? Four!!! In a BL?! Seriously, if you're like me and you side-eye every BL series that has nineteen guys and one vaguely woman-shaped lamppost hidden in the background, Something in My Room is the breath of fresh air you've been searching for.

Unfortunately, this series flopped domestically and internationally, but I'm not going to pretend I know why. Personally, I blame the geoblocking and the badly cut free edit they released that confused and lost viewers early on, but it's also possible that this is just a series that didn't resonate with people as strongly as it did with me, and I'll have to live with that. SOMEHOW.

However! Look at my boys. Look at my ghost boy Phob and his alive boyfriend Phat. They just got dead-engaged. :'(

This is a series that was clearly made with a lot of heart and a lot of emotion. It also has a veiled political message in one character's backstory that I'm still blown away by because they hid it so cleverly to get it past censorship. PhobPhat are easily in my top ten favorite couples, and Supanut and Plan have fantastic chemistry.

If it's not for you, that's totally fine. All I hope is that more people give the uncut version a try. Supanut (Phob) gave my favorite acting moment in any series in the last episode, and it haunts me (ha) to this day.

(Also, if you're worried about the ending being sad, I think it's as happy as it could have ended, and I'm a baby when it comes to sad endings. Your mileage may vary, of course, but I was really happy with how it ended.)

¶ IF YOU LIKE SLOW-BURN ROMANCE

SOTUS (2016) + SOTUS S (2017) + Our Skyy (2018)

Synopsis: The "Gear" is one of the engineering mechanical devices in the cogwheel system (as in a clock). Having one signifies that one is a student of the Faculty of Engineering. However, to get one, all engineering freshmen must first undergo the SOTUS (acronym for Seniority, Order, Tradition, Unity, and Spirit) system. Arthit, one of the third-year seniors, often abuses his power over the freshmen by making them do things against the rules. Freshmen students are practically powerless to complain or resist any orders given by their seniors. Arthit was seemingly unstoppable until Kongpob stood up against the abuses by the former. Continual encounters between the two developed from animosity to something much more affectionate.

Review: Whenever I see people recommend SOTUS, it's usually because it's a "classic" and one of the major cornerstones of the industry. I think it's also important to describe it as a slow-burn so people know what they're signing up for. Personally, SOTUS and its sequel have yet to be kicked from my top five (I count them together). The character-building is fantastic, there's a legitimate character arc for Arthit that spans three iterations with the same mental block that takes on different forms in each one, and Kongphob also matures and becomes more and more multifaceted. If you're not a character person, if you're more about the surrounding plot, SOTUS probably won't do it for you.

The first series is fifteen episodes, and by the time Kongphob actually talks about his feelings for Arthit, it feels earned and authentic. SOTUS remains one of the best-written series, I think, with some of the strongest pacing. When I heard that SOTUS saved GMMTV from bankruptcy, I had no trouble believing it. They gambled on giving a BL series a substantial budget in 2015 (airing in 2016), and it absolutely paid off.

Also, just on a wildly destiny-like note, Bittersweet based her novel on a viral photo of Singto acting as head hazer, Krist became a hazer because he was Singto's junior, and then they ended up playing the opposite roles. Just fun to think about, especially with loud extrovert Krist playing the older, shyer character and quiet introvert Singto playing the younger, brasher character.

I play the instrumental "Distant Signals" at least once a week (it's on Spotify under Harry Angstrom and Jonathan Buchanan). It's one of the best examples of music done right in a series, I'd say, and I'm a big fan of when a piece of media uses music well. There are songs in SOTUS S that just pierce my heart if I hear them in passing.

And SPEAKING of SOTUS S, it's like Between Us in that the conflict is almost purely internal. I'm really, really into character-driven stories, and as a queer person who felt pressured back into the closet at my first office job after being extremely open in university? A series set in an office about a queer character who feels pressured back into the closet after being extremely open in university hit a few personal buttons. I think it's still the only series that's fully represented that experience for me. The side stories at the end of every episode showing how open and confident Arthit was when he was in the safe bubble of university compared to how anxious he is in the working world absolutely ruins my heart.

And then there's KongArt themselves. I love them as characters. Episode one of SOTUS feels like a fever dream compared to the rest of the series (and it might have been a pilot to sell sponsors, tbh), because Arthit becomes one of the softest and shyest characters in all of Thai BL.

arthit: i love you kongphob: say it again arthit: no i love you

What I appreciate most about SOTUS is that it's one of the few series that's been given multiple iterations. SOTUS established the relationship between KongArt, SOTUS S explored that relationship at its low point, and Our Skyy tested that relationship by pressing down on its weak point. I think, aside from the actors' popularity, the depth that KongArt's relationship was given is one of the reasons why fans still love the pairing years and years after the source material ended. Arthit's insecurity fuels every conflict, but in ways that I feel are realistic. Every time his anxiety and self-worth issues become a conflict, it's for a different reason, and it's realistic to me that our fears can be partially dissuaded but not completely erased.

In conclusion: these boys all need therapy. I'm casting a vote for Therapy: The Series.

[percsane]

— did i drive you away? ☆

pairing: riri williams x blk afab reader

content: angst , swearing , upset reader and riri.

summary: riri’s been pushing you away without realizing, and you can’t help but wonder why..?

kendall’s note: okay yall, finally writing some angst (it’ll have a happy ending dw) but i’m not sick anymore so now i can actually fr write, this is inspired by sparks by coldplay btw!

(♡) or rb! :)

read.

that’s what read underneath the last message you sent riri..

last week.

you decided it’s been enough time since you last talked, you missed your best friend, the love of your life..

you walked up to her room and waited for a second, thinking of what you would even say to her.. today was the same day that her dad died years ago.

you were the one she went to when you both were just 15.. running to your arms and crying into your shoulder and she sulked over her fathers death, and as her best friend, you looked out for her.

you knew this day was always hard for her, every year that would pass it was as if it got worse.

you stood in front of riri’s dorm, and finally knocked on the door, anxious to see how she was holding up.

the woman who opened the door wasn’t your riri.. but she was.

riri had deep dark circles under her eyes, her face was puffy as if she’d been crying all day, her eyes were red, and her facial expression, she looked hurt.

you stood with her favorite snacks and chips and drinks in a little bag you made for her, she looked at you, then down at the bag.

“not in the mood today, (y/n).” she said harshly, her voice hoarse

you pushed past her and entered her room, placing down the bag as if she hadn’t said a thing.

“i promised you when we were 15 that i’d never leave your side on this day, no matter how upset, how angry, how embarrassed you could possibly be, i’m not going anyway riri williams.” you spoke, sternly.

“(y/n). i’m not in the mood today. look, maybe next year i just need space, i really need you to get the fuck out.” she says, you can see the build up of anger getting to her.

“but i-” you started.

“(Y/N) GET THE FUCK OUT.” she yelled brokenly, you decided if she needed her space, you’d give it to her. though, it broke your heart to see her like this, you didn’t wanna push it.

you left and as soon as you were on the other side of the door, you heard it slam behind you.

a few days after the.. incident you continued to give riri her space, you would notice her stare at you in lectures, and every time you looked back at her, she looked away.

you were in the library, trying to study for your next exam as you clicked away on your computer, headphones in your ears as you listened to music to calm your nerves.

you felt the presence of someone next to you, looking up from your computer, you see her.

riri gives you a weak smile.

you return it, taking your headphones off.

“hey..” she speaks quietly.

“hey riri.” you say blandly.

“can i uh… talk to you?” she asks, scared you’ll say no.

“yeah.” you shrug, backing your stuff up into your tote bag and getting up to exit the library with her.

“look, i’m sorry for yelling at you.. and being an ass. i really dont fucking deserve a friend like you, you do this every year, and you never disappoint me. i guess i got a lil scared that.. i dunno maybe one year you’ll realize you don’t need to do this shit for me anymore..” you saw tears fill her eyes as she talked, trying to wipe them away.

“riri..” you began.

“no, listen to me i’m sorry, i’m sorry i blew up on you, that i let my own insecurities get in the way of our friendship.. i really just hope i didn’t drive you away. i love you, (y/n). more than a best friend should and that shit fucking scares me.” she confesses, making you look her in her eyes, cupping her cheeks as you press a kiss to her forehead.

“riri, i love you too ight? that’s never changed, i’ve always seen you more than a best friend, and i don’t want that to change. but you could never, ever drive me away. i’m not going anywhere okay? neither is my love for you.” you smile, pressing a chaste kiss to her lips.

riri pulls you closer and hugs you tightly, making you chuckle a little before rubbing her back.

“my heart is yours, riri williams.” you whisper into her neck.

[bawdybooster]

I wanna use infinite void (the domain expansion) on you. /Aff

*Searches up Infinite Void Domain Expansion*

Thanks??? I don't know Jujutsu Kaisen (I just "work" here) but the thought of having your mind experience complete information overload is conceptual intriguing and horrifying, so I'm glad it's noted as being done affectionately.

Anyway I'm gonna bounce off this ask to hit y'all with a similar information overload by giving everyone an update about where I am in this WalMart of a World below the cut okay thanks byeeeee

At the moment, I'm about a week out from my second-to-last semester of college which is looking to be very busy in terms of course load, extracurricular activities, working on campus, and well... everything. One of my classes will involve writing a Feature-Length Script among a few other heavy projects.

So if requests are being responded to slowly at the moment, things will slow down even more around here.

Like, Paint-Drying Slow.

One-Hit-Knock-Out-On-A-Blissey-In-Gen-IV Slow.

S l o w .

Plus, it doesn't help that I am at the whims of inspiration. I am not always in a hypnokinky mood and don't engage with this Account 24/7/365, hence the queue. It keeps me (relatively) active even when I'm away. My focus is here, there, and everywhere, all at once. One day my inspiration will push me to write some HypnoFic. The next, I'm being pushed to write something else. Repeat ad nauseam.

Which brings me to the Requests.

I was... hesitant to start openly taking requests. I'd been doing them before but without much advertising. Folks would send me an ask talking about an idea, and I'd respond with some writing attached. Then one day, I thought "Well, it wouldn't hurt to mention them somewhere, right?"

Yeah... right...

Sometimes a request grabs onto me and I hit the ground running with it, and it gets answered pretty much the same day it gets sent in.

Sometimes a request features subject material I don't feel qualified to write about, let alone have any interest in writing about.

Sometimes they're just... there. And I leave them for a while. Eventually, inspiration strikes, and BOOM! I'm writing like a madman!

Don't get me wrong -- I love taking asks and requests. Answering them is a blast! But like, not all of them are going to match perfectly with me. And I've written myself into a corner by saying, and I quote,

"I can guarantee all prompts will be answered to the best of my ability, but I can't ensure it'll happen at a timely rate."

- Literally Me this past Wednesday at 8:12 in the AM, answering an ask half-asleep and unaware of the consequences of my actions.

So where do we go from here?

Simply put, I can't answer everything. I can respond to all the asks and prompts sent in, giving thoughts and feedback on some of them to essentially "Yes, And..." everyone's ideas. Some of them might latch onto me to the point that I feel the urgent need to write up something for them, but I know for a fact it cannot be all of them. Writing stories for each and every one of them is a surefire way to get burnt out on writing, which I, in the most literal sense of the words, cannot afford to let happen.

So yeah.

We can't do it all.

[araisbored]

Happy New Year!

Holy shxt! I can't believe I actually made it out of another year of b*llshits... Seriously though, it was a very nonchalant year for me. I mean it was exciting in a few parts but most of the time I was just surviving. And to be real with you it's not bad. Just vibing and trying to get through was a good thing to achieve for a year. One of the biggest factors why I made it through last year was because of my planning ability. I mean, it was the only gasoline that was keeping me alive. Then BOOM, I upgraded my set-up. That's when things started drastically changing. GoodNotes, I love you. I wanted to share my planner set up but I guess that will be added to my blog-idea-pile.

There were a lot of ups and downs last year but just like what I said. It was a fine year. Just to fill my New-year-new-me vibe. I wanted to post my year-end reflection for 2023. I've been gearing up for this post since December last year but it's so hard for me to fill up because I wasn't in the mood for reflecting. But I immediately finished it this very moment because I've been hopeful and in a good vibe since the start of the year. I know it will fade as the days pass by, but I have a good feeling for this year.

I wanna do a top 10 list for music because that's what I always do here aparently(I just won't shut up about music). But I'll only try to make it until this month. So if you don't see my post for that this month. I probably decided not to make it at all. There are so many things I wanna post lol. But let's be hopeful, it's 2024.

Back to the topic, I digitally ripped this image off from my planner last year. I think I will do this next year as well. The girls are right, the placebo is working. Gratitude pages help. It really made me feel good about myself. I feel grateful, motivated, and dare I say hopeful? That's new for someone who is suicidal. So trust me when I say it works. If you're feeling stuck again. Try journaling. I know it's a pain sometimes. But it really does its job. Just start filling in things you feel like writing. Skip those you don't like. My greatest tip for journaling or doing gratitude pages is to just do what you feel at the moment. If this is what you can only do, then so be it. It would make you feel so much better. Please don't feel pressure on mundane things like this. Omg, we're stirring off on another topic. But since we're in the area I just want to share it with you. (Or I wanted to remind my future me of what I felt during this time because no one is reading this anyway!)

Anyway, here's my 2023 year-end reflection. Hope it inspires you to look forward and do the same thing for next year. Or you can still make one it's not too late!

[penwieldingdreamer]

Just one Kiss

The third installment of my Daniel Ricciardo drabble/one-shot series. Also thank you so much for so many likes and reblogs on the other, too. I finally found a fandom again that I enjoy writing for, thank you guys.

If you're interested in the songs that inspire this, here's the Series Playlist

Happy reading. Let me know what you think.

I kept the reader as vague as possible. While writing I imagined a plus size! female! reader but you can think up whatever you want.

You had a shitty day at work, so Daniel invites you to stay with him in Monaco. In the end something might change for you both.

previous part

Warnings: fluff, some angst

Words: 2203

Come to Monaco, take some time off. We’ll go hiking and swimming, you’ll love it.

You read and re-read his message. Daniel had sent you the plane tickets after yet another lengthy call about your crazy boss who was complaining all the time. Covid had hit every business, but just like everyone else you weren’t able to change it and you couldn’t get people inside the shop to buy enough cars to keep your boss afloat.

Each and every day, no matter how hard you worked he wasn’t happy with your performance, even though all he did was sit inside his office and drink the expensive whiskey a friend gave him. 

You had joked about looking for a millionaire boyfriend and stop working if you found yourself with such a boss each time you changed workplaces. The Aussie had laughed at that, telling you he’d be there, providing for everything. “Don’t do that, I’d be stamped as a gold digger.”

“Fuck ‘em, I’d still do it.” His voice was hard but still making you laugh. “Besides, you’d be a great WAG.”

Smiling at his omission, you thanked him but couldn’t help picturing what life would be like if you did end up with the F1 driver. The glitz and glamor wasn't something you needed, but joining him on one of his trips or at races definitely had its perks. After that you had talked about his upcoming race in Spain and the one back in Silverstone where he ended up on P14, not something he wanted. Not for the team and especially for himself. 

“You’ll get on the podium again, Danny, it will come. Stay positive.” You tried to encourage but heard the doubt in his voice.

“I know, it’s just, I don't have a good feeling with the car. It’s working great one day and the next something is wrong. I don’t know.”

A few hours later you found his message and the link to the tickets on your phone and you knew saying No was not an option. You answered him with a grinning emoji, knowing the Renault driver was already awake and waiting for your reply.

Get ready to dine and wine me, loverboy.

The next day at work you put in your vacation time and left your boss’ office before he could comment on it. You knew he wasn’t happy with you being gone for two weeks, but since you had started working for him you had about two days off from work in the last year. 

“You dare leave with such short notice when it’s the busiest time of the year? I need you here, Y/N!” he called, standing at his desk and gripping your letter before you could close the door.

"I dare to. Work is slow anyway, with the pandemic people don't want to buy cars right now."

Grumbling, he sat back down. "Just make sure you'll do a better job than before so people actually come back. With your mood swings I'd not buy a car from you, too."

Swallowing the cuss, you gave him a tight nod before leaving the office. If you didn't need that job you'd probably have given that idiot a piece of your mind but at the moment he was still paying you more than your last workplace.

Back at your own desk you shot a quick text to Daniel, wishing him luck for the race in Spain and that you couldn't wait for the weekend to be over very quickly.

Three more days, babes, and you'll enjoy the Côte d'Azur. We'll meet in Nice at the airport, I'll be waiting at your gate.

True to his words the weekend was over faster than you thought and Daniel had sent you a voice message in the morning reminding you to have all your essentials, travel documents and to bring the happiest mood now that you would spend two weeks with the Honey Badger himself. You didn't know how he always did it, he was such a happy-go-lucky guy, although sometimes having a bad day, but just picturing his smile while he sent that voice made your day brighter. 

The plane ride was uneventful, even with the pandemic. All you had to do was keep your mask on and everyone was happy. Music was something you probably shared with Danny, you needed it when you were traveling, driving, cooking or just reading a book sometimes. Music made everything better and lifted the mood a bit, so thanks to some of the songs the Aussie had recommended, the journey to Nice, France had been faster than you thought.

You felt giddy, knowing he would be waiting for you at the arrival gate, hopefully in the same mood as he had that morning, knowing the weekend hadn't gone as planned for him as he wanted to. The plane finally touched down, passengers clapping and whooping loudly before you heard the snaps and clicks of the belts being loosened. Sometimes you wondered why people couldn't wait until you reached the parking spot. The doors wouldn't be opened before then, so why bother being the first to grab your shit when you'd still have to wait patiently. Shaking your head, you turned your phone back on.

You sent a quick message to your friend and family, letting them know you got there okay and one to Danny, so he knew you were about to meet him. With him being a famous driver you didn't know how many people might recognize him, if some at all with having to wear the masks and didn't want him to be in the middle of all of that. Although he once told you he didn't mind at all, but with it being this early he was confident it was smooth riding from there on.

Can't wait to see you, babes.

You chuckled at the nickname he gave you. He started a few weeks ago and when you asked him about it, the Aussie explained that it was the nickname for baby or mini potatoes.

"So, I'm a potato now?"

“No, you’re my baby potato.” His laugh had echoed through the speaker and you couldn’t help the grin that stole itself onto your lips as you thought back to it.

Grabbing your travel bag from the overhead compartment you stood and followed the passengers out of the plane. You couldn’t wait to get out of that crowd and see Danny again. It had been too long since you had time off and spending your free time with him was such a privilege. He was literally the sun, even when he had a bad day, he wanted to make his friends and loved ones smile no matter what.

Walking out of the gate, you finally were able to lose the throng of people that had traveled with you. That’s when you found him standing there in his merch hoodie, sunglasses and a mask. 

“Babes, fuck I missed that smile.” He pulled you closer, his arms circling around your shoulders. Michael was sitting opposite the gate at a small cafe area, enjoying a light breakfast. "Did you have breakfast?"

You shook your head, food hadn’t been on your mind this early in the morning. Your flight had left at dawn and plane food was never something you enjoyed, so you nibbled on the cookies and granola bar you had bought before take off. “I hoped I could get something here, enjoy the ocean view and sun.”

The Aussie chuckled, nodding over at Michael who had finished his coffee and scrambled eggs. “We’ll get your luggage, take a car to Monaco and then enjoy an amazing breakfast with a view.”

The drive to Monaco and Daniel’s home there was about half an hour but the scenery that flew past was the most beautiful you had seen in a while. The waters were so blue and even the mountains on the other side looked beautiful. Before you knew it the car was in the garage of the apartment complex. 

After a big brunch outside on the apartment balcony, enjoying the view down to the Port de Cap-d’Ali yacht club, the Aussie took you down to the beach. 

“Did you ever make a decision you might in the end think was the wrong one?” He asked you, his hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie.

You looked over at him, your hand instinctively moving to his elbow. “What’s going on, Daniel? I’ve never seen you so down before.”

Sighing, Daniel shook his head. “I, fuck, I’m not sure. With the DNF in Austria and the car's performance I asked for a seat at McLaren. I’m still finishing my contract but I don’t know if getting that ball rolling was right. I just want to race and get back on the podium.”

“Why didn't you tell me before, huh? We're friends. Are you really sure this is what you want? Changing teams, I mean. You know I’ll have your back, no matter what you do.” He put his arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his side. “What did your agent say to that? And Cyril?”

Daniel laid a kiss onto your temple. “He’s on board I think, it’s just so fucking annoying. I try to get it working, I have a few good positions and then it’s fucked up again. Most of all I miss my cheerleader at the track. And well, Cyril is…he's not happy but we're amicable and I try to get the points in, so at least it will be a split on good grounds. I thought he was never going to talk to me again.”

“I guess I can understand that. I wouldn't be happy, too, if my star driver talked with other teams after the first race. But it is your life, your decision in the end and as long as you try I think that's more than you can say about other people. Just think it through very well and take it day by day. Also, I'd be there more often, but I can’t get out of work all the time even if I wanted to. But you know I’m always watching you race and keeping you in my prayers.”

The Aussie let out a soft laugh. “You sound like my mum, she’s doing the same with every race.”

Shrugging your shoulders, you leaned your head against his shoulder. “Your mum’s not wrong to do that, it’s a risky business you’re enjoying. But it’s what you love so I guess there’s no way you’ll be quitting now.”

“Definitely not, but I’m glad you’re here now.” He stopped suddenly, his long fingers brushing a few loose strands out of your face. Daniel’s eyes locked with yours, switching down to look at your lips. Before you could react, his plush lips were on yours. His free hand moved behind your neck, pulling you closer to him.

Your own hands moved from his arms up to his shoulders, holding onto him with all your might, your knees already buckling from the sensations. The last time you had kissed him was back in Australia. That summer had haunted you for months - but in a good way if you were honest. You still felt his touch every night even when Daniel wasn’t there and for the longest time you had dreamed of getting that feeling back.

He pulled away, looking at your serene face. Your eyes were still closed and he couldn’t help the satisfied grin. “I really wanted to do that when you came to Silverstone.”

"There's still COVID, we should have been more careful. What if you"

"Fuck COVID, all I could think about was that smile and your lips. Kept me up at night every fucking day."

“Well, good things come to those who wait.” You returned his grin once you had looked back at him. Daniel had that broad grin he usually wore and you felt your insides tingle. “What’s it mean now?”

Shrugging his shoulders the F1 driver brushed his thumbs along your jaw. “I don’t know but I’d like to see where we're going. Take it day by day, ya know.”

“That’s a great idea I think.” You stood up on your tiptoes, grabbing his cheeks and pushing your lips against his for another kiss. 

Just one kiss had changed your dynamic from friends to something more and you couldn’t wait to explore where it might lead you.

The days after you spent swimming, hiking and just exploring Monaco and the area around the principality. You'd keep your relationship under wraps from the rest of the world for now, not an easy feat with him being a famous Formula 1 driver, but it didn't mean you had to sneak around. Daniel took you on a few dates and you promised to try and be at a few more races, staying at the Renault garage, rooting for your favorite Aussie. You also met his friends and saw Max again, enjoying the time out on the water with them and knew he had needed that time off from all the drama since the start of the season, not just with the pandemic but with the Renault-McLaren issue, too.

next part

[hotch-stufff]

Surprise, Surprise

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x F!reader

Warnings!: there are no warnings, im not telling you a single thing. It's a surprise. Just read and find out ;)

Also, as much as I love him, Jack does not exist in this story, wasn't really sure how to write him in.

Author's Note: I'm so sorry that I haven't written in a while, I have had no inspiration and my bf dumped me so... ya'know that was nice. Anyways, finally getting some inspo, hopefully I will be writing more. Hope you guys enjoy this one :) Also, the mood board is mine, but the images are all from pintrest.

Word count: 1.4 k words

This is an emotional roller coaster

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You couldn't breathe.

You couldn't move, or speak.

Your knees gave out as you fell to the floor, sobs racking your body.

You felt arms wrap around you, but it didn't help. You were suffocating. He was your air, and he had just been ripped from your lungs. 

He was gone, dead.

Your husband.

The love of your life.

Aaron Hotchner was dead

* * *

You don't remember anything after the doctor uttered those words. You don't remember Rossi picking you up and holding you. You don't remember the sad glances, the tears shed by your teammates. You don't remember the car ride to your now empty shared apartment. You don't remember lying down and sobbing into the pillow for hours.

No, you only remember the pain. The unbearable pain of loss.

He was gone. Really gone.

You cried and cried for hours on end. Until you had no tears left to shed. 

Then you just lied there, staring at the wall, gripping his favorite shirt in your arms, remembering every little moment with him.

And it hurt like hell just thinking of everything you did with him. The day you met. Your first kiss, your first date. The day he proposed. Your wedding. Every little thing. 

And you wouldn't be able to do anything else. You wouldn't have kids with him. You guys had just talked about having a baby just the other day. He wanted one so bad. 

You shouldn't have waited.

Because now, now he was gone.

* * *

The next few days were a blur. You found yourself with home-cooked meals overflowing your fridge. A team member at your house every night. But it was all a blur.

All meaningless without Aaron.

The funeral was coming up. You didn't make any arrangements, you asked Rossi if he could handle it and he quickly agreed. 

He had taken care of finding the casket, picking a place, and finding a burial site. Everything. 

The only thing you had asked for was a closed casket.

You couldn't handle looking at him.

* * *

On the day of the funeral, the girls all came over to help you get ready. 

"Alright y/n, do you have a dress?" Penny asked as she walked out of kitchen.

"In the closet." You croaked. Your voice being hoarse from the crying and lack of speaking for the past two weeks.

"Okay I'll grab that, and shoes. Jj is going to make you breakfast and Em is going to do your hair okay?" You gave her a sad smile and a small okay.

Penny quickly walked back your hallway as Em began pulling your hair back in a low ponytail. You felt the tears begin slipping down your face once again.

Jj saw as she walked back in the room with a bagel and coffee.

"Oh sweetheart." And the dam broke. They comforted you the best they could. But they couldn't even imagine what you were going through, because he was gone.

* * *

The funeral was a blur. It seemed like everything was these days. 

It was a beautiful service. You don't remember much. Lots of hugs and 'sorry for your loss's.

It had gone quickly, and soon you found yourself in Rossi's living room. Everyone but the team had left, you sat alone. The rest were in the kitchen cleaning up.

You didn't move from your spot, sipping your wine.

Everyone walked in, and found spots around you.

It was silent. Not a single word was spoken.

"I'm taking a leave of absence." You spoke.

6 pairs of eyes shot to you, but they couldn't say they were surprised.

"It's just too much. I'm not ready to come back." Your voice was quiet. Rossi was the first to say anything.

"Take all the time you need." 

* * *

And you did. You spent about 3 months in that apartment, alone and sad and heartbroken. 

But you realized that Aaron would never want you to live like this. And you really needed to be able to pay the bills.

So after those 3 months, you gave Rossi a call. He had become until chief since you had left, and he instantly accepted you back to the team.

You were slowly getting better. 

Each passing case a distraction. 

Each one fixing you just a bit more. 

Each one giving your life a purpose, a meaning again.

And you felt better. You stopped crying yourself to sleep. You stopped sitting in silence for hours on end. You stopped crying every time you thought about him.

But you still visited him every week. You still thought about him everyday. You still wore your wedding rings, refusing to take them off.

But you were better. 

* * *

A few more months went by and you started going out with the team again. You spent more time with them. Almost every weekend. And you were somewhat okay.

And it wasn't until about 8 months after his death did your world come to another crashing halt.

You had been called in to the BAU, not entirely sure why, but you came in none the less. 

You figured it was a case, but Jj hadn't specified on the phone, which was strange.

You had walked up to the conference room, and were surprised to see the whole team sitting there ready to go. 

"Hey guys, do we have a case?" You asked, but Jj sent you a sad look causing you to grow worried.

"Y/n, you should sit down for this." You had no idea what was going on. What on earth was happening. "Peter Raymond recently resurfaced, and was taken into custody this morning about an hour ago. He resisted arrest and pulled a gun on an officer. He was shot and killed." Your heart hammered in your chest. He was gone. The bastard who killed your husband was gone. Rossi stood walking towards Jj.

A pit grew in your stomach, there was more, something you didn't know.

"8 months ago I made a decision that greatly affected this team. Aaron Hotchner received substantial injuries from the wounds he endured, but his surgery was a success and he was airlifted to an unknown location. His identity was changed in order to keep him safe. But he is alive." 

You couldn't believe your ears. He was alive. Alive? 

Your eyes shot to the door and there he stood. 

Aaron Hotchner. 

You couldn't breathe. 

You couldn't move or speak. 

He was alive, you should be ecstatic.

But you only felt anger.

Your eyes shot to Rossi.

"How dare you." You whispered out, surprising the team. You weren't an angry person, you never yelled at your teammates. But you, you were seething. "How could you do that. You knew he was alive and yet you let me suffer. You watched as I cried day and night. You watched as I let myself go, as I lost myself." You shook your head in anger.

Aaron stepped forward reaching out for you, but you shook your head.

"Dont touch me. Don't fucking touch me." You felt the tears fall down your face. Again. "You left me. You're dead. You're gone. Y-you left." You were shaking and crying and once again Aaron reached out for you, but this time you let him.

He brought you into a crushing hug, holding you like you had begged to be held for months. 

He was here, really here. You could smell and feel and see him. He was really here.

"Y-you bastard. You left me." You whispered desperately as you cried into his shirt. 

The team was quick to disperse. They too were mad at Rossi, and they wanted to reunite with Hotch. But they left you be, at least for now.

Aaron pulled back slightly, looking down at you.

"Sweetheart I'm so sorry. I wish I didn't have to. But he would have killed you and then he would have killed me." He had tears running down his face as well now. But you were so angry at him.

You pushed him away.

"I could have gone with you Aaron. You could have gone into witsec. You didn't need to fake your fucking death Aaron!" You yelled at him. you couldn't even believe you were eating this conversation.

"Y/n please, I'm so sorry." You were mad yeah, but you were so overwhelmingly relieved that it overpowered your anger. "I missed you sweetheart." He whispered out and you broke just a little bit more.

"You bastard. Y-you stupid man." You pulled him back to you and slammed your lips together. "You stupid, stupid man." You gasped out between kisses. 

"I know, I'm so sorry. I love you." He stated after you pulled away.

"I-I love you too." You were sobbing at this point.. "Don't ever do that to me again." He nodded, leaning in to kiss you again.

And you kissed your husband.

Because he wasn't gone. 

He was right here.

And god did it feel amazing to have him back

------------

Thanks for reading! Requests are still open, so ask away! Currently I'm only taking requests from my prompt list, which is right here! School is starting up soon though, so i may not be writing very often, but i will definitely try! Anyways, if you would like to read more of my work, here is my masterlist.

[unoriginalmess]

Untitled Feralnette Fic Ch. 1

Hiya there anyone who happens upon this first chapter of this fic. I would like to start out by saying that this is my first fanfic ever. I've been wanting to write a fic for the miraculous fandom for a while but I haven't had any inspiration until I stumbled upon this glorious AU created by @bigfatbreak. I highly suggest checking out all of their posts about this au because they are hilarious and genius and about 100 other amazing adjectives that could be used to describe them and their posts. Anyways enough with my rant and let's get on with the fic. ⚠️Slight angst⚠️ ⚠️Swearing⚠️

--------

When Marinette got home after her and Luka's breakup, all she could do was cry. She wanted to be with him, but her Ladybug duties came first. If lying is a deal breaker for him, then maybe it was best that they ended it now while their relationship was still in its early stages. Still, she couldn't help but feel the loss of her first relationship. She ended up crying for a whole entire day. She just hoped that Hawkmoth(or Shadowmoth or whatever the fuck he wanted to be referred to as this week) wasn't feeling particularly akuma-y today, because she didn't know if she could bottle up all these feelings, even though the world is relying on her ability to do so.

Ugggghhh!! It has been exhausting having to be "happy and perfect Marinette" and "happy and perfect Ladybug" All. The. Time. She's also pretty sure that Hawkmoth had discovered the similarities in her personality as Marinette to Ladybug, and that's why she's been targeted by multiple akumas lately. She has had to have her emotions under control even more than usual. If only there was a way to get Hawkmoth to stop targeting her. Maybe she should just not give a fuck anymore. Haha as if! It couldn't be that easy! Could it?

The more she thinks about it the more it starts to make sense. If she just let herself go completely crazy as Marinette, she would be killing like 10 birds with one stone. She would get hawkmoth off of her trail, she wouldn't have to deal with having to hide her emotions all of the time, she wouldn't have to deal with the added stress of maintaining her perfect persona, she wouldn't have to deal with the stress of Lila's lies taking her friends away if she didn't have friends in the first place, and so much more stress would be taken off of her plate! It was perfect! It might hurt a little at first, but it's for the best in the end. She spent that night planning out her outfit for tomorrow, doing her homework, and going to sleep knowing that, in the morning, François Dupont isn't gonna know what hit them.

....

Adrien Agreste had been having a rough week. He had been abandoned on patrol by ladybug, been broken up with by his girlfriend, and was feeling completely and utterly alone. He knows that his lady has been feeling overwhelmed by her guardian duties lately, and that he 100% deserved that verbal lasting that kagami had given him but he couldn't help but feel this way. He was also feeling guilty about lying to kagami and leading her on for so long. After she broke up with him he took some time to assess his feelings for her and realized that he had more of an admiration for her than an infatuation. He definitely didn't feel the same way about her that she felt about him. She told him that she LOVED HIM, and he was so distracted (blinded) by ladybug that he didn't even process her confession. So, he was looking forward to Sunday morning. He cleared his schedule and on that beautiful Sunday morning, he did what he is only allowed to do on very rare occasions: sleep in. Or at least... thats what he had planned on doing.

When Nathalie had knocked on his door that morning Adrien was not in a good mood. He vaguely heard her say something about father wanting him downstairs in some amount of time for something involving a business partners child and some other robotic sounding words that his half asleep brain couldn't process completely.

"I have a cleared schedule this morning, Nathalie. What could father possibly want me for that is more important than my precious sleep?" He asked snappily.

"Your father wants you downstairs to welcome the new guest that will be living in the house for the rest of the school year. You have 15 minutes to make yourself look presentable and I suggest leaving the attitude upstairs," she half informed/half reprimanded him. As she walked away, Adrien reluctantly rose from his nice warm bed and went to go get ready with only one thought racing through his mind: Who could possibly be staying with them?

....

Felix Culpa was not looking forward to living at the Agreste mansion for the rest of the school year, but for their parents' sake they would do what they had to. It wasn't all for their parents either, they were also concerned about the strange "dissapearance" of Emilie (who was his aunt in all ways except blood relation) and about the treatment of Adrien since said "disappearance".

You see, Felix Culpa is the heir to the Culpa Fabric Empire. The Culpas have been the sole fabric supplier of the Agreste brand since the very beginning. Felix's mom Diana was best friends with Emilie since their college days. Diana and Emilie made the deal with the two brands because as best friends who are both involved in the same industry, it just made sense to have a business relationship with each other. Diana never really cared for Gabriel as a person, but she could tell that he loved Emilie more than anyone else in the world so she could tolerate him for the sake of her best friend.

When Emilie went missing, Diana was absolutely devastated and tried anything she could to find her. She invested in missing person ads as large as billboards, organized search teams, tried to aid the police in their search for her in any way she could, but there was no leads, no legitimate calls to the number on the billboards, and the search team came up empty handed. While she was doing all of this to try to find her, she couldn't help but be furious over the fact that Gabriel was doing nothing to help in the search. All he did was hole himself up in his oversized mansion and call it a day.

The last straw for Diana was when Gabriel tried to use the "grieving my wife" excuse to try to abuse their business arrangement. That day, she told him that the Culpa brand would no longer be associated with the Agreste brand and that after the new collection is released, he would need to find a new fabric supplier. She knew that the Agreste brand would take a huge hit from having sub-par fabric, but she never thought that Gabriel would try to make up for that fact by using Adrien as a walking mannequin and locking him up in the desolate prison that he calls a home. As soon as she realized that he was doing this she scrambled to find a solution.

That is how Felix ended up here, standing in front of the mansion they would be living in for the next 9 months in exchange for Gabriel getting back into the Culpa brand's good graces. Don't get them wrong, they were excited about being able to be in Paris, home of the most innovative fashion pieces in the world, and about being able to see their honorary cousin Adrien (who wasn't half bad to be around despite him having no backbone whatsoever when it came to anything involving his father) but dealing with Mr. Agreste was definitely one of the low points of this arrangement.

They decided to just get it over with and knocked on the door. It was opened by the man that their cousin affectionately referred to as Gorilla. They nodded a thank you to the man, remembering that he was a man of few words, and proceeded to the bottom of the staircase. Mr. Agreste stood at the top with a very tired looking Adrien a few steps down. Felix wasn't even slightly surprised that this is where he chooses to welcome his guests, looking down on people must give him some sort of power trip or something. It's almost as if he heard the phrase "It's over, Anakin, I have the high ground," and made that his own personal motto. Whatever, let him have the feeling of false power if he wanted it, Felix knows that they have all the power in this situation and they're sure that Gabriel knows it as well.

"Hello Felix," Mr. Agreste greeted them with the same amount of warmth in his voice as liquid nitrogen, "while you are staying in this house you will abide by my rules. Adrien will inform you of them and show you to your room. You will attend school with him in the morning and I'm sure that you already know that you must represent not only the Culpa brand, but also the Agreste as well. I will be in my office working, do not disturb me. Contact Nathalie with any questions that cannot be answered by Adrien." He finished his spiel and left to what Felix assumed was his office space.

"Hello Felix!" Adrien greeted him with as much enthusiasm as he could muster in his sleepy state. "Come with me and I'll show you to your room."

Adrien led Felix to their room and listed all of the rules of the household that they were expected to follow. And... wow. Felix could not believe that their cousin had to live like this. The only social interaction this kid gets is at school and fencing? Pre-approved outings only with people determined socially acceptable by Gabriel? And if he gets even one "B" he isn't even going to be allowed to go to school at all? Felix knew that the living situation was bad for Adrien but know the only question running through their head was: What did they get themselves into??

--------

And... thats it for chapter 1! Mostly background info at this point, but next chapter will be the class' reaction to feralnette and felinette meeting for the first time. I just want to say thanks again to @bigfatbreak for giving me the inspiration to write a fic for the first time ever. Feel free to leave constructive criticism, I'm always looking to improve, especially at writing since this is my first time posting anything I've written online, so I want to get better so that I can make better content for you guys, gals, and non-binary pals. If anyone wants to be tagged just let me know and I'll make a tag list for ya. :)

[btsmosphere]

Lost in a Book | JHS

~summary: you and Jung Hoseok don’t exactly see eye to eye. but when you (literally) fall headfirst into a whole other world, that becomes the least of your worries ~pairing: hoseok x reader ~word count: 8.5k ~enemies to lovers, college au, fantasy au ~rating: g ~warnings: naughty freudian slip, sexual tension, arguing, fire

~a/n: this is my gift for the wonderful @moccahobi‘s birthday! I am so lucky to be friends with someone as funny, hard working and gorgeous as you and I hope you have a great day!! and no, of course I didn’t choose the biggest bingo square only to forget and write this in a week.. (okay, I did, so pls go easy on any errors!) as always the lovely admins at @thebtswritersclub came up with a fun challenge to prompt this story, so I will be including my makeup palette bingo square at the end so you can see what prompts I used for this! enjoy x

The moment you had seen Jung Hoseok coming through the door, your eyes rolled.

Almost entirely made of large windows, the front of the coffee shop you worked in allowed you to see all the passers-by. So when you spotted your classmate coming down the street, laughing loudly with a couple of friends, you had prayed that he would just pass by.

Of course, you could never get what you wished for.

“Yoongi-“ you tried in vain to capture your friend’s attention, but too late. Yoongi hadn’t even looked around from where he was scrubbing coffee cups when a familiar voice reached your ears, making you groan internally.

“Y/N! Hard day at work? You look frazzled.”

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” you drawled, resigning yourself to serving him.

He simply leaned on the counter, sagging with laughter.

“Always service with a smile with you, isn’t it?”

“I’m sure you’d be just as tired if you even tried to focus in class,” you fired back.

His grin didn’t even falter. But at last, he dropped his teasing. With a scoff he ordered a tea and turned around, scrolling on his phone with his back to you as you got to work.

It seemed you had grabbed Yoongi’s attention after all, judging by the poorly-hidden snort from the washing up area.

Scowling, you chucked together a cup of tea distractedly, only too relieved when you pushed it over the counter to be rid of Hoseok. So when he sipped it only to wince in disgust, your heart sank.

“Jesus, where’s the caffeine? This is so weak.”

Your desire to argue back lost its short-lived wrestle with your customer service training, and you were reluctantly offering to make a new one. This time, you forced yourself to pay more attention. You knew that way, you could actually get rid of the nuisance on the other side of the counter.

“You see Y/N, the bag goes in the water,” Hoseok remarked, leaning over to see what you were doing.

Shooting the most passionate glare you could muster had the undesirable effect of sending him into peals of laughter.

Eventually, after making a point to leave the teabag in for much longer – at least until you noticed his fingers begin to tap on the countertop – you passed over his second cup with a sarcastic smile. His mood didn’t seem to have dampened that much, but he left without a fuss.

“You have great chemistry.”

The dry remark from behind you had you whirling around to glare at Yoongi instead. He stood in front of his stack of clean washing, observing you with a smirk.

“I don’t think Jung Hoseok knows what chemistry is,” you grumbled.

But as you set to work, a little aggressively, on scrubbing the counter, you never would have guessed how right you were. Or that it would soon become your responsibility.

“So when we sleep, what part of the brain transfers memory from white to grey matter?”

“…what’s grey matter again?”

“I think you could do with some more of it,” you muttered in lieu of an answer.

Hoseok lifted his head from his arms just enough to fix you with reproachful puppy eyes. Sighing, you tugged the textbook back across the table towards you, flipping a few pages back and jabbing your finger at the relevant passage.

Raising an eyebrow, he read it for the second time today with a growing frown.

“Long term…” he said at length.

“Long term memory!” you groaned, dropping your forehead against the heel of your hands.

Behind you, you knew Jungkook and Yoongi were watching this unfold with amusement. You weren’t sure you could take much more of this.

If you had envisaged this when you had signed up for your college’s mentor program, well, you may have changed your mind.

At last, the hour dragged by. Apparently Hoseok wanted to be there as little as you, collecting the books and leaving very quickly once you were done. Though your shift was over, you were sure you might explode if you didn’t get to rant about the guy right now.

Huffing, you marched over to the counter.

“He’s such a jerk!” you threw your hands out, “his ego’s so big, it’s like he thinks he’s too good to even try! And now it’s up to me to make sure he isn’t so behind, but there is so much to do!”

Your coworkers weren’t helping. Both had given up suppressing their laughter, openly enjoying your pain.

“You guys are no help,” you grumbled, folding your arms.

“Just be patient,” Jungkook offered, “it might get better in time.”

“Patience is not something Jung Hoseok inspires,” you retorted, “and I’m being good enough as it is! I even had the generosity to lend him my textbook!”

“You’re a saint,” Yoongi chuckled.

A withering glare later, you slung your bag over your shoulder and bid your friends a tired goodbye.

Much as you hated to admit it, there may have been some truth in what Jungkook told you. Patience did seem to be the key after all. A lot of patience.

A few more meetings had passed, and Hoseok remembered a lot more now. You weren’t sure whether it was due to the quality of your teaching or just a desire to avoid your constant scolding, but it didn’t matter too much. The result was what counted.

You were to meet again today. As always, he came as your shift finished so that you could work in the café.

“You like him really.”

Jungkook’s voice tore your eyes away from the clock you had been watching.

“I’m sorry?”

“You like him,” he repeated, “I’ve never seen you so impatient to get off work.”

“What? I’m not,” you scoffed, “it’s just-“

The little jingling bell above the door interrupted you. Never finishing your thought, you left Jungkook to meet Hoseok at the counter.

“Tea?” you asked him.

“Not if you’re making it,” he quipped, eyes already skimming the menu on the wall behind you.

You scoffed with a roll of your eyes, but said no more. Hoseok’s teasing eyes returned to you as he said,

“Think you can manage a hot chocolate?”

“Of course I can make hot cock-“ your eyes widened at your momentary slip “-chocolate. I can make hot chocolate-“

But for all your correcting and muttering, there was no hiding your embarrassing moment from Hoseok, whose eyes lit up with surprise before laughter spilled out of him in reams.

“I didn’t mean to make you so flustered, Y/N!” he cackled.

Biting your tongue, you hid your burning face from him as he half-collapsed against the counter with the force of his laughter. You angrily set to work on the drink, milk sloshing in the jug as you thrust it under the machine.

“With whipped scream on top too, huh?”

Hoseok’s incessant mocking didn’t stop until you had handed him the drink. If anything could prove to Jungkook just how wrong he was, this should do it. Still, you didn’t dare to turn around and see what your friend made of the situation.

Mixing the powder into the hot milk forcefully, you glared down at the cup.

Damn Jung Hoseok! He couldn’t be any more infuriating if he tried. It wasn’t your fault he was so annoying it made it hard for you to think straight. No one else managed to rile you up so much as him.

You gave him the drink with a side of deathly glare. It only served to amuse him more.

Safe to say you were dreading the next hour.

Clocking off soon after, you hung up your apron regretfully and headed across to your usual table. Thankfully Hoseok was a bit more subdued now.

Unfortunately, you were about to find out why.

“So, Y/N,” he started as you were sitting down.

This brought your attention to him straight away. Your eyes narrowed as he toyed with his mug on the table, avoiding your eyes.

“So, uh, that textbook you lent me-“

You had a bad feeling already. Looking around, you didn’t notice it on the usual pile of books.

“Where is it?” you cut him off.

At last he raised his head to meet your eyes, and you didn’t like what you saw.

“It’s not like we need it that badly anyway,” he began, though you weren’t sure you had ever heard him sound so hesitant, “we finished most of the stuff in there anyway…”

“You lost it, didn’t you?”

“Well, yeah. And I think I also spilled some-“

Not waiting for him to finish, you exclaimed your frustration.

“I can’t believe you! Just because you don’t see a use for ever picking up a book, I need that! I don’t have that kind of money spare either…”

As you raked a hand through your hair, Hoseok decided now was the time to be helpful.

“Gosh, I was afraid you would do this. We have a library for a reason, you know?”

Stopping your train of thought abruptly, you lowered your hand to glower at him.

“And now you’re going to make me go in the library? Ugh, you really have it out for me.”

Incredulous laughter followed. Hoseok leaned back in his chair, observing you with raised eyebrows.

“You’re telling me you believe in those stupid rumours?”

Shifting uncomfortably, you shrugged.

“Well, you’ve got to admit the place is creepy, right? And my flatmate said she knew that girl Cindy-“

As you spoke, Hoseok’s laughing grew louder, steadily filling the café until you were forced to stop.

“What?” you hissed.

“We’ve all heard about “Cindy”,” he made quotation marks in the air, “but that’s just a story! The older students made it up to scare newbies – and it would seem it worked. But everyone knows the scariest thing in the library is just the course reading.”

Biting your tongue, you didn’t muster up a response. You would only face more ridicule if you argued about this.

“Don’t forget the librarian,” you joked half-heartedly.

Hoseok chuckled lightly, and you were glad he dropped the topic after that.

But still the issue of your sorely misused textbook remained.

There was nothing to be done. You had to go to the library.

It may seem a ridiculous thing to be scared of, especially for someone who loved books, but, as Hoseok had kindly refreshed your memory of, there were… stories. The campus library at your college warranted a degree of wariness.

Most commonly told was the story of Cindy, supposedly a student at the university many years before. No matter how dramatic the story was made, the essentials were the same; she had gone into the library and never come out.

Logically, you knew that this was just one of those quirky urban legends that came to surround certain places.

Nonetheless, your nerves only worsened as you entered the grand building.

On your way in, you only passed one other student. Most people were leaving uni at around this time, but you needed to hang around anyway because your shift was soon. You had sent a quick text to Yoongi to let him know you would be there once you found the book, and somehow it comforted you a little that someone else knew you were here.

Moving through the first few rows of tall bookshelves, you had to pass by the main desk on your way to the section you were looking for.

Doing your utmost to tread with care, sandals making as little noise as you could manage on the wooden floor, you walked on.

As you drew near, the librarian looked up. Greeting them with a bright smile, you didn’t let it show that your heart was really thumping in your chest.

Hurrying along, you only slowed once you had entered the right section. Near the back of the library, it was dimmer as no light from the window reached all the way into the corner. Utter silence dampened the air. Not even the rustling of the librarian sorting papers could be heard from here.

Alone with the hushed sound of your own breath, your eyes flicked along the rows, searching for the right name.

Spotting it at last, you wasted no time in reaching for it. But as you tried to slide it from its spot, you were met with resistance. Perhaps it was very tightly packed in its place.

You tried again with both hands. It was still wedged in, but you felt it give a little so kept pulling. You managed to tug it out a little way, but this time, the book tugged back. Holding onto it as tightly as you were, you stumbled forwards, nearly slipping out of one of your sandals.

Gulping, your brow creased. More determined this time, you tried once more, but it seemed the book only retreated further among its companions on the shelf.

Breathing heavily, you stepped back. Books were not meant to do this. You swore it had moved by itself.

Maybe Hoseok would call you crazy if this was your reason for not getting the textbook. But, you thought, staring back down the empty row of shelves, a science textbook was less important than not getting involved with the strange happenings of the library.

Already you were questioning your sanity. Books didn’t move.

Looking back at it once more, it appeared perfectly unassuming. There was nothing unusual about the book. Maybe your mind was playing tricks, driven from the fear you felt about this place.

Breathing deeply, you reached your hand out for one last try. Picking up a book couldn’t be that hard. As long as you didn’t fear it-

Your fingers came into contact with the spine, and not a moment later, the book shrunk right back. But though it shot out of sight between its neighbours, your hand was stuck to it. Your intent to snatch it straight back at any sign of movement failed, and you were yanked forwards.

Flying clean off your foot now, your sandal clattered to the floor among the silent shelves behind you.

Your stomach jerked at the sudden movement. Now, as you plunged towards the shelves, you screwed your eyes shut, anticipating the imminent collision.

None came.

Instead, your insides seemed to be suspended. You had not crashed, but still your feet didn’t meet the floor; though your eyes were closed you were certain you were falling.

Rapidly upping its pace, your heart tried to punch through your ribs the longer you were in this state, fearing your landing. Panicked, you took great gulps of air, limbs flailing fruitlessly.

You landed.

It felt like you had been falling for a long time – too long – yet the force you hit the ground with was not painful. For a second, it expelled air from your lungs, but by the time you had rolled and tumbled enough to land on your back, you were sucking in a shaky breath.

Blinking, you turned to look around you. Your arms struggled to push you from the ground, but you heaved to sit up anyway.

This was like nowhere you had ever been.

No parquet was beneath you here. The ground was earth, sparse tufts of grass growing from it. But in places, the foliage was abundant, great swathes of vibrant grass surrounding a nearby rock which protruded from the ground.

These rocks were also plentiful, though not of regular size. They poked from the ground, rough surfaces being seized by moss of all colours.

Other plants stretched higher still, all in shades of purple, green and blue. Climbing slowly to your feet, your eyes traced up the stem of a slender tree whose leaves drooped downwards with their size.

The only thing you could hope to recognise were roses that grew in places, curved petals familiar atop their stems that wound around larger plants.

In the scattered canopy above you, there appeared to be vines as well. Climbers, perhaps; it appeared as if they were winding around ceiling beams above you, except that they were in open air, pale sky stretching above them.

Very deliberately, you blinked.

Nothing changed.

Jaw hanging open, you turned slowly around. This place continued the same everywhere you looked. You certainly weren’t in the library anymore.

Taking some effort to breathe evenly, you forced your feet to still.

Remembering your phone, you quickly reached for it. But as you repeatedly pressed the power button, the screen remained black. Either you had let it run down, or it wouldn’t work in this alien place.

You replaced it in your pocket with bitter disappointment and continued to stand still, observing this place.

Purposefully, you walked towards the nearest rock. Given the way you were transported here, you were a little wary of touching random objects, but you tentatively reached for the mossy surface. Briefly grazing it, you jumped backwards, expecting something to happen.

Nothing. Just the springy surface of moss, solid and very real.

Staring at the rock, your mind ran in uncomprehending circles. How had you got here? Why? How could you get out?

Cutting through your thoughts, a thump came from behind you.

Startled, you jumped around, eyes darting in panic around the world you had found yourself in. Nothing seemed to have moved…

A cough, followed by a groan, drifted from somewhere.

Frown deepening, you stepped forwards. A few paces brought you around the next rock, bigger than the last. Not only was it taller than you, it was bordered on one side by more of the tall plants, blocking your view of what was behind it.

This was definitely where the sounds were emanating from. As you cautiously rounded the boulder, rustling sounds reached your ears.

Reaching the trees, you peered between two dark blue trunks. Every muscle in your body was tense, ready to spring away at the first sign of danger.

Instead, you were greeted with the shape of a person. They wore a dark jacket, their hair also dark, but they were facing away from you where they sat.

For a moment you stood frozen. You were divided: should you announce yourself? Maybe they could help you? But for all you knew, they might not feel kindly towards you. What would another person be doing in this strange place?

Before you had the chance to decide, let alone move, the person slumped backwards to lie down, huffing a great sigh as they went.

Your eyes widened. Now you could see their face — and you certainly hadn’t expected this.

“Hoseok?”

Squeezing between the trees, you pushed your way into the small clearing he lay in. On hearing your voice, he twisted towards you with wide eyes.

“Y/N?” he jumped up, eyeing you suspiciously, “what is this place?”

“I have no idea,” you answered honestly. Then, “what are you doing here?”

Echoing your earlier words, he said, “I have no idea.”

After a moment, he seemed to remember something and looked around sharply.

“I found this,” he told you, pointing at the ground some feet away. There lay your sandal from earlier.

“Oh. Thank you.”

You flashed an awkward smile and went to pick it on, sliding it back onto the foot it had lost not long ago. Then your silence resumed.

Briefly, you did nothing but stare at each other. Then you stared again at the bizarre scenery around you.

Hoseok was first to move. Apparently becoming tired of your company so soon, he turned away with hands on his hips and began to pick through the undergrowth, which was thicker here than where you had first landed.

Even if this was all the company you were granted, you were eager to keep it, and so followed him.

A few minutes passed. Eerie silence was all around, save for the tentative brush of your footsteps against plants. He hadn’t complained about your presence, though, so you eventually decided it safe to speak.

“Did you… fall here?” you ventured.

His eyes snapped back to you. With a nod, he confirmed it.

“From the library?”

Slowing down, he allowed you to catch up and walk at his side.

“Yeah, why? You too?”

“That’s what happened to me,” you nodded, “but… what were you doing in the library?”

But Hoseok never heard those last words. A deafening, crunching crash resounded through your quiet conversation, drowning you out.

Both of you reacted quickly, spinning to the source of the monstrous sound in fear. Your hammering heart only sped up as you located a dark shape above the treetops.

“There!” you cried, grabbing onto Hoseok’s sleeve.

He spotted it as you pointed, for it was rapidly growing, soaring towards you.

“What is that?” he yelled, stumbling backwards.

You had nothing to offer in reply, instead watching with wide eyes as the creature flew closer still. Still grasping at Hoseok’s sleeve, you tugged at it, looking around for the nearest cover. He made no move. Struck dumb with awe, he seemed to be rooted to the spot.

Turning back to the sky, you were panicked to see the beast drawing closer. You could make out a long snout protruding from its head, spiny wings beating slowly and yet carrying it swiftly over the land.

The monster was enormous, blocking out a chunk of the open sky.

Not wanting to hesitate any longer, you pulled Hoseok forcefully with you as you retreated under the cover of a thick patch of foliage. He complied, still unable to tear his gaze from the flying creature.

You almost daren’t look, even now you were secluded among shadow. But curiosity overcame you.

It was near enough on top of you now. You held your breath, terror washing over you at the sight of it, close enough now that you could make out scales on the thing’s large belly. They glimmered a blazing red as it moved.

But its pace was fast, and it continued quickly, long tail etching a path through the sky behind it.

“Was that…” you breathed, after you felt enough time had passed to be safe. But your thought was too absurd for you to speak out loud.

However, Hoseok finished it for you.

“A dragon?”

Both of you slowly turned to face each other, matching expressions of perplexed shock painting your faces. You opened and closed your mouth, but no words presented themselves.

Your gaze was only severed by the return of the same cacophony to the air that had first heralded the dragon. Only now, it was louder.

Ducking by reflex, you whipped around. Above the treetops, the dragon was returning.

Still filling the air, the sound was that of treetops rupturing as the scaled beast flew low over them, snapping them like matchsticks. Once again, it seemed like the thing was coming straight towards you.

“Let’s move,” you shouted over the noise.

Hoseok didn’t need telling twice.

Side by side, you raced between trees, feet and clothes catching on leaves and vines that spanned the floor. Plunging on nonetheless, you kept your eyes set determinedly ahead.

By the time your lungs demanded you stop for breath, you were sure you must have gone a considerable distance from where you had first been hiding. But the deafening crashes from above had become no quieter.

Slowing down, you sagged against a tree as you gasped for air. Just in front of you, Hoseok looked around, finding you holding yourself up shakily against the trunk.

With a look to the sky and back at you, his face sank further, eyes wide and afraid.

“Y/N!” he cried.

Lifting your head, you met his eyes. Still panting, you turned to follow a finger he raised as he took trembling steps backwards.

Overhead, the leaves seemed to shake. A shadow was sliding along the forest floor as above it, twigs and branches rained down, bouncing from their lower counterparts until they disappeared into the shrubbery.

The dragon was following you.

“Come on!” Hoseok’s voice reached you somewhere among the din.

Spinning, you found him holding a hand out to you, gesturing maniacally for you to continue. You had barely caught your breath, but forced yourself to push away from the tree and run towards him once more.

What did surprise you was that he waited for you. When you came within reach, his outstretched hand was grabbing you, pulling you along at his side.

But there was no time to think of that. Chest heaving with exertion, you willed your feet to move faster underneath you in an attempt to flee the dragon.

All at once, the tall tree trunks you had been running between, almost dense enough to form a forest, stopped. Realising too late, the two of you shot from the cover at full speed, only to find yourselves utterly exposed.

Skidding to a stop, you looked to Hoseok in panic.

Before you could take another step, shadow fell over you again, but it was not cast by harmless trees. The roar of splintering branches grew to an overwhelming crescendo as the dragon caught sight of you and dived, uncaring for the insignificant wood pushed aside by its bulk.

Beside you, Hoseok screamed hoarsely. Together you fled backwards, knowing there was no hope of outrunning your pursuer.

In a few seconds, the beast had descended, giant nostrils flaring at your eye level. Curved fangs gnashed.

With horror, you saw a glow brighten the deep tunnels atop its snout.

In the corner of your eye, you spotted another rock, rough surface towering from the ground. You barely had time to think before you were shoving Hoseok to the side so you fell together behind the barrier. Not a moment later, blazing orange flared, obscuring all other sights as fire erupted from the monster’s jaws and nostrils.

You gave no thought to the position you had fallen in, your push having left you tumbling directly on top of Hoseok. His scream rang in your ears, only rivalled by the crackling heat in the air as his arms wrapped around you. You too were curling up, hands shielding your head in some attempt to shelter.

Thankfully, the rock you had chosen was one of the larger ones and took the brunt of the blast.

Not that it encouraged you much, considering the persistence the beast had shown so far. The dying away of the heat and fire only brought on dread, gnawing low and incessant in your stomach, of the next blast.

Barely daring to breathe, you stayed still, huddling against Hoseok, who did the same.

Any moment, you expected another massive roar to rip through the air. A swipe of the malicious claws or the sizzling heat of dragon flame. The longer you waited, the harder your heart rioted in your chest.

“Students.”

You jolted violently as a loud voice resonated through the air. But it was not the dragon.

Looking around showed you no one who the voice might belong to.

“It is gone,” the voice said.

Hoseok’s hold around you was loosening. Swallowing, you became aware of your proximity and carefully extracted yourself, not looking him in the eye as you moved to sit next to him instead.

It was true that no indicator of the dragon’s presence had made itself known, but you were not inclined to trust a faceless voice. You crawled to peer around the edge of the rock. Finding the space empty, you emerged further.

The clearing was totally deserted. The only evidence of the recent fearful moments was the debris of burnt leaves and broken branches scattered across the ground.

“Who are you?” Hoseok raised his voice, though it shook a little.

You returned to his side, the voice replying as you sunk down beside him.

“Students,” the voice repeated. It was level and calm, but awfully cold. The word was spoken with disdain. “I doubt you would recognise such a voice as mine. You young humans know not the value of words, of books. I am the librarian.”

You blinked in surprise. Next to you, Hoseok sat forward from the rock you leaned against.

“You are? Can you get us out of here?” he yelled, aiming his voice at the sky for lack of target for his pleas.

“Certainly not. I am the keeper of this land. You see, due to the neglect of your kind, my creatures are only kept alive through written word, and I cannot let them be endangered. Students are all the same. Careless. I do not appreciate those who vandalise or waste the knowledge granted them through books. And so, I cannot let you take another one.”

“It’s just a science textbook,” you muttered.

Meanwhile, Hoseok was growing more desperate.

“We won’t!” he called, “just let us out!”

Ringing silence was all he received in reply.

Eventually, he flopped back against the rock with a huff. Worrying your lip, you turned to him, though you had nothing to propose for what you should do next.

His hair was a dishevelled now, strands falling into his eyes which he now turned to you. To your surprise, his mouth curved back into a smile, breathy laughs bursting from him as he rested his head back on the rock.

He shook his head.

“This is crazy.”

You had to agree.

Turning your despairing eyes away and to the surrounding forest again, you were surprised to see movement among the trees. But this creature was not enormous or fire-breathing. A sandy-coloured tail waved, blurring in the air.

Bounding through the trees and coming to a stop at the forest edge, came a labrador.

Staring in bemusement, you found the dog looking right back at you. It was panting, mouth open in a smiley-looking shape. Its tail continued wagging enthusiastically behind it.

Just as you opened your mouth to tell Hoseok, the dog went rigid, body jerking as it barked across the space.

Sitting up straight, Hoseok spotted the dog as well, and together you watched it.

The dog watched back, standing still as if waiting for something. It reminded you of the way your flatmate’s dog used to wait for you to throw the ball when you played with her.

After another minute of stillness, it barked again, then turned and ran. You jumped to your feet as the yellow tail went wagging away through the shadows.

“What are you-“ Hoseok exclaimed as you started towards the trees, following the dog’s path.

Already tired, your legs lagged behind the dog’s pace and you nearly lost sight of the sandy fur. But you kept your eyes trained on it. This animal did not seem unfriendly, or angry. Something told you that you could trust it.

“Where are you going?”

You hadn’t noticed the pursuing footsteps until Hoseok was grabbing your arm, forcing you to stop. Looking around at him in annoyance, you shrugged him off and turned back around. But you had lost sight of the dog now, finding the forest empty.

Your shoulders slumped.

“I was trying to do something to get us out of here-“

“By getting more lost?”

Hoseok’s eyes blazed with anger and he threw his arms out to punctuate his yell with frustration. Opening your mouth, you returned his outrage.

“We’ve been lost since we got here! We don’t know anything about this place, but we can’t just do nothing!”

“What can we do? You heard what the librarian said.”

His volume had lowered and he took a step back.

Breathing out, you did the same, noticing only now how you had crowded each other’s space in your anger. Swallowing down your own frustration, you levelled your gaze at him. His words spoke of despair.

Sighing, you pushed a hand through your hair.

“There’s no use in fighting,” you muttered, “and I’m scared too. But we have to try.”

Lifting his eyes to you, Hoseok felt then as if he was seeing you for the first time.

You shared his fear, and had spoken that out loud, but still the steely glint never left your eyes. Rather than run or hide, you stood tall, resolved to find a way out, no matter how hopeless this crazy turn of events seemed.

“Hoseok?” you called, rendered hesitant by his silence.

Giving his head a quick shake, he averted his gaze from you.

“Hobi,” he spoke.

You frowned.

“I’m sorry?”

“Call me Hobi,” he repeated, “if we’re stuck here forever, I won’t be able to stand it if you call me Hoseok all the time.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Taking that to be some odd form of agreement, you turned around and started to pick your way again through the forest, no matter how blindly. The only vague thing guiding you was the notion that the dog had left this way, but that certainty grew weaker with time.

The only thing bolstering you were the steady steps of Hobi right beside you. A reminder you weren’t alone here.

“Sorry for losing your textbook.”

Smile quirking your lips, you turned to Hobi. He was steadfastly ignoring your gaze, kicking his feet through the low undergrowth while his hands were buried in his pockets.

“If you hadn’t done that, I wouldn’t be here now,” you hummed.

That caught his attention.

“Hey! At least I’m apologising!”

“Doesn’t fix the fact we’re lost in… well, wherever this is,” you chuckled, “though I’m sure it’s worked out well for you.”

“What do you mean?”

“If I hadn’t come here to replace my textbook, you would be here all alone.”

Hoseok simply tilted his head in vague answer.

After a few short moments of quiet, you resumed the conversation.

“So, what were you in the library for?”

He let silence stretch out for longer than you expected, and you slowed your steps to look at him. His eyes were wide, and when he spoke, it was with a nervous smile, as if he wasn’t sure he should be smiling.

But he was too quiet, and all you heard was something that sounded like ‘yuzbook’.

“Sorry?” you frowned.

With a long-suffering sigh, he finally spoke up.

“I was looking for your science book as well.”

Your eyebrows shot upwards.

“You were?”

“Yes.”

“I thought you had decided it was my responsibility? Even though you lost it.”

“Exactly, I had lost it. I felt bad.”

“Ha!” you exclaimed, jumping around to dance in front of him, “Jung Hoseok admits remorse! What is the world coming to?!”

“I told you to call me Hobi,” he grumbled.

A smile was still bursting at your lips, but you calmed down and returned smugly to his side.

“My bad. Hobi wanted to do something nice! For me, of all people! Maybe this really is a dream…”

“You dream about me?” he grinned, teasing right back.

“Eugh, of course not,” you scoffed.

His laughter filled the forest, and you were glad of it. At length, it faded and you walked on.

“But, turns out you were right to be scared of the library,” he admitted quietly.

Simply nodding, you kept going. By now you had lost all hope to have remained on course with the dog you had seen earlier, but there was little use dwelling on that.

Most of the way, you had been trekking through forest, but now the trees were thinning. Once again, they began to be clustered in patches near protruding rocks.

Coming between two waist-height boulders, you found a pond lying cradled by short grasses and more rose plants.

Agreeing on a break, you and Hobi slumped down at its bank, though you also agreed not to drink it. Hobi seemed much more distrustful of everything you came across in this curious land than you, but there was no harm in caution, you supposed. It was true that, on getting closer to the water, it appeared to glimmer silver.

What that meant, you didn’t know, but didn’t care to investigate.

Reclining on the ground, you breathed deeply. The pond was in a large clearing, similar to the first place you had crash landed in. You couldn’t escape some dread that all this time had brought you in a mere circle to the beginning, but there was no way to be certain.

Forest lined one side of the oasis, while the other stretched away, obscured behind that rocky landscape dotted with an array of foliage.

As you scanned the area idly, a familiar blur of motion had you sitting up with a yelp.

“There! Did you see that!” you cried, but began running without waiting for a reply.

Twisting to attention, Hobi clumsily took to his feet after you.

“You sure?” he called after you.

You kept running. You had seen it – it had been right here. You were certain it was trying to lead you somewhere, and you felt compelled to follow it.

Plunging between rocks, Hobi’s slower steps faded behind you. Uncaring, you continued, eyes alert for any sign of your goal.

And there it was: another brief glimmer from just beyond the next clump of plants. You were so close. This time, you were going to reach it. It would get you out of here.

Still running, you didn’t care that the way wound deeper through the terrain, nor that the world around you darkened as you went. No, your mind was set. You kept moving.

When you finally reached what seemed to be the midst of the darkness, it never occurred to you that this was never what you had been looking for. All you were filled with was delight; in the middle of the dark clearing stood a grove of roses. They were taller than the roses you had seen so far, growing thickly and close together.

In the blackness, the petals emitted a soft glow that shone through their delicate veins.

A smile curved your lips. But as you took a slow step towards the luminescence, something emerged from behind them. It became clear that the roses themselves were not glowing, but the creature. A unicorn.

White coat shimmering with its every move, it seemed to glide over the landscape. The slender horn protruding from its head appeared crafted by the finest silversmith, with hints of colours dancing along it even in darkness.

All breath was stolen from you. Your startled exhale left a cloud lingering in the air beside your lips which glittered as the majestic animal walked in front of you.

Either it didn’t see you, or didn’t mind your presence, because it proceeded perfectly calmly. Keeping your eyes fixed on it, your feet stumbled after the serene creature without you willing them to.

You barely blinked as you followed the graceful unicorn, desperate to keep your eyes on it. You couldn’t have torn them away if you wanted to. Just watching the animal had all your tension melting away: legs feeling heavy, mind fogging. All your worries dissipated as easily as smoke in the wind.

The world was silent. It was as if your ears were plugged as you reached out, somehow confident enough to touch the noble beast.

Another step closer.

Your fingers stretched out, ready to meet the sleek, glowing coat-

“Y/N!”

A blow knocked you sideways, a weight falling with you as the shout of your name rung loudly in your ears. For a split second, you winced, expecting to be crushed on the ground, but already a hand shielded your head. Instead, you landed on a body, held securely in the person’s arms.

Gasping, you found yourself breathless. Your gaze had been severed on being tackled, and now that you blinked, dark clouds seemed to lift from your vision.

Looking around wildly, you were slow to come to your senses, but the person was already shifting.

“We need to move.”

That voice was familiar. Looking around, you found Hoseok’s eyes trained on you as he struggled to stand with your weight against him.

Clumsily getting your feet underneath you, your mouth opened, but a shriek filled the air before you could speak.

Clapping your hands over your ears, you winced at the piercing wail splitting the air.

Hoseok, however, wasted no time. He grasped your wrist, pulling you stumbling across the clearing behind him as he sprinted away.

Wide-eyed and breathless, you twisted to look behind you. The unicorn was still there, but it wasn’t glowing, just plain white. But your eyes only caught it for a second, before a darker shape was swooping from the sky.

Feet pounding, you fled the shrieking beast as it descended in a rush of feathers.

Glinting talons flashed, inches in front of your face as the bird-like shriek reached its peak.

And then you were plunged into shadow, squeezed between leaves and petals.

Hoseok slowed, dropping your hand, but you were practically frozen. You staggered backwards, eyes trained on the spot those razor sharp claws had been.

Above you, the shrill cry was quieting, echoing around the land as your attacker circled higher once more.

“What… what was that?” you panted.

“That was close,” Hoseok responded, no humour in his voice. “I was calling to you! Why didn’t you move?”

“You were?” you frowned, “I-I didn’t hear. I don’t know what happened.”

Light frown creasing his brow, Hobi looked seriously down at you. Swallowing, he looked you over. Your heart still trembled, trying to take in what had just happened, and you looked up at him fearfully. Was he angry?

Fixing his eyes on your own, Hobi stepped forward, bending to draw your faces closer together. Holding your breath, you stiffened, heart rate rocketing as his breath fell warm over your cheeks.

Then he reached his hand out. You forced yourself to hold his gaze, not sure why your face was growing hotter under his scrutiny.

His fingers met your hair. They pulled gently at a strand.

“You had this in your hair.”

Blinking, you found him holding a rose petal up, the hint of a smirk playing on his lips.

“Right. Thank you,” you spoke awkwardly, snatching it from his hand.

“Let’s stay here for a bit,” he said then, turning around as if nothing had happened. However, you didn’t complain. You didn’t want him to see your burning cheeks.

Hobi had pulled you into the grove of roses you had seen earlier, which grew some way above your heads. The bushes were close together, providing the perfect cover. You heard no more of the shrieking monster as you walked after him through the plants.

Beautiful flower heads were nestled everywhere, the graceful bundles of petals peering at these strangers walking through their home.

Eventually, Hobi came to a halt. When you stopped at his side, he pushed aside some leaves to show you what lay beyond.

You had reached the other side of the grove and a new clearing lay before you. Unlike the other places you had been, there were no tall trees or wide rocks rising from the ground. At last it was flat.

But, most noticeably, in the middle of the clearing there was a building. Deep blue walls rose from a gold base, thin pillars winding upwards to support the corners of the many-sided roof. Small arched windows were set high up in the walls, through which you could see a silvery glow from inside.

Hobi looked around the space before emerging. No longer impatient, you wholly agreed with his caution and also peered out carefully.

As you remained mostly hidden by the roses, something came running around the house.

The dog.

Same as before, it stood looking at you, smiling mouth and wagging tail welcoming.

First, you looked to Hobi.

“What do you think?”

“You were right,” he replied, “the dog seems alright. We should give it a shot.”

Smiling, you felt assured now you were in agreement. Not stopping to think too much about the action, you placed your hand resolutely in Hobi’s and stepped forwards.

This time the dog did not begin running away, waiting for you by the blue house wall instead. As the two of you drew closer, you bent a little, holding your hand out to the creature.

“Hi!” you cooed, ignoring Hobi’s light scoff from beside you.

The dog poised as if it would bark back, but instead it looked towards the house. Following its gaze, you looked through the window and instantly fell silent.

Inside, a figure was sitting, though you could only see their head and shoulders – and a pair of wings. They fluttered lazily, glinting in the silvery light.

“The librarian,” Hobi murmured.

Nodding, you looked back to the dog.

“Will you help us?” you whispered.

Its tail wagged harder.

Smiling, you reached out to give it a gentle pat, ruffling the soft fur between its ears.

Satisfied, the sandy blond animal turned around, tail blurring all the while. It trotted away, leading you around the house. On passing the windows, you both ducked, fearing what the faerie would do if they discovered you here.

A short dash, looking over your shoulders, and you finally reached a thick row of trees. Squeezing behind the large trunks, you were surprised to see large wooden doors waiting for you.

If not for the lingering worry of the librarian somewhere nearby, you would have laughed out loud.

Hobi rushed forwards, grasping the dogs ears and ruffling them enthusiastically.

“You got us out!” he whispered happily.

You were amused to see the dog’s smiling mouth grow wider, tongue hanging out with his praise.

Jumping up with a brilliant grin, Hobi walked to the door. Waiting by the handle, he let you also say goodbye to your four-legged saviour.

“Thank you,” you told it with a loving pat. For a moment, you looked into the dog’s eyes, wishing you could somehow convey your gratitude.

Then a thought came over you. Tilting your head, you frowned slightly.

“Cindy?”

The dog’s tail whirred back into motion, hopping up and down a little at the name.

Breaking into a smile, you patted it affectionately.

“Good girl, Cindy,” you grinned, “thank you.”

Then you stood to join Hobi’s side. He lifted the great handle, which made a concerning thunk in the quiet.

Hurriedly slipping through, you fell against the other side of the wood as he followed and shut it firmly behind him. You were back at the entrance of the library, the glass doors at the front of the foyer showing the road beyond it, no different than ever as cars and pedestrians hurried along.

“Who let someone like that work in a school?” you laughed, incredulous.

Hobi laughed loudly at last, the sound bringing a bigger grin to your face.

You had made it out.

All of a sudden, a pinging sound rang from your pocket, soon over taken by at least five more.

Pulling out your phone, you found it alive again, the screen lit up and full of messages.

“Yoongi’s wondering where I am,” you muttered, “my shift…”

Hobi pushed away from the wooden door, starting to walk with you across the entrance hall. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he nodded.

“Yeah, um, I should get going too, I guess.”

Opening the main doors, you stood outside on the steps, at a loss. A bus rumbled past.

“Okay,” you spoke at length, “yeah. Er, see you around.”

Smiling briefly, Hobi took a few hesitant steps back before he committed to walking away. One last wave and he was engulfed by the crowd on the street.

You sighed and set off in the opposite direction.

The bell clinked, swinging wildly above the door as you hurried over to the counter.

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” you spoke as you set your stuff down.

Turning to lean against the counter, Yoongi shrugged.

“’s’alright. Where were you though?”

“Ah…”

What were you meant to say? Your head was still spinning from everything that had passed, but you knew no one would believe you if you told them the truth. Shifting a little, your teeth nipped at your lower lip while you tried to come up with a reasonable excuse.

Meanwhile, a knowing look was sliding onto Yoongi’s face.

“I see,” he grinned, and then, to your mortification, winked!

“No, you don’t- that’s not-“ you protested, but he was already snickering and turning back to the washing up.

Shaking your head, you concluded that whatever his belief was would make as good as excuse as any. At least he had made it up for you, saving the hassle.

You got to work.

Over the next couple of days, everything ran like normal. Except for you, nothing was normal.

You still had no idea how such a small amount of time had passed while you and Hobi were busy running for your lives in fear of the librarian and their crazed world. You had barely been late for your shift afterwards; when it was time for bed you had collapsed straight in, feeling as if you had been awake for two days straight.

Of course, you had never gone back for that textbook.

In college the next day, you had taken a detour to class, stubbornly avoiding the building that had all but kidnapped you, wondering at the fact no one else seemed to realise.

At the café later on, you waited impatiently for any sign of Hobi outside. He was the one person you desperately wanted to see. Surely he must be feeling the same? He would understand.

But you waited and waited, serving countless other customers without much thought. He never came, and so you were left to question your own sanity by yourself.

Nothing about your impromptu adventure made sense.

If it had been real, why didn’t Hobi act like anything had changed? You certainly couldn’t pretend that nothing had been altered between you while you had been trapped in that strange world inside the library.

Perhaps it had been a dream. All of it seemed so implausible that even recollecting it sent you spiralling with more questions.

But there was one hope. Even if Hobi remembered nothing of what transpired, you were still supposed to tutor him. You would see him next week, and try to assess what he might remember.

So when your phone buzzed that night, screen lighting up with a message from him at last, you had expected to arrange this week’s session. But all it said was: come outside.

Though you frowned, you weren’t going to pass up this chance.

Sliding off your bed, you quickly stuffed your feet into your slippers and tried your best not to break into a run on the way to the door. Collecting yourself first with a deep breath, you pulled it open.

The first thing you took in was empty space outside your door. Blinking at it, you couldn’t prevent the disappointment from creeping in. But then your eyes flickered downwards.

There at your feet lay a rose.

Your lips parted in wonder as you stooped to pick it up. Taking it between your fingers, you rolled it gently there. It was the exact same as those delicate flowers that had filled the grove where you sheltered together in the library.

A smile tugged at your mouth. It only grew as you remembered the identical petal Hobi had pulled from your hair.

He remembered.

The relief that washed over you was dizzying. Clutching the flower to your chest, you smiled out of your doorway once more, silently thanking Hobi.

But you wouldn’t have to be silent for long. Your eyes landed on a figure leaning against a lamppost a few metres away, smiling right back at you.

As your eyes met, Hobi stood straighter. His mouth shifted to a radiant grin. He had come back to you.

Thank you so much for reading!! And again, send lots of birthday love over to @moccahobi​!! As promised, here is the beautiful bingo card I used for this story:

taglist: @aianloveseven​ @preciouschimine​ @un2-verse​ @ddaechwita​ @taegularities​ 

[mittensmorgul]

For anyone interested in long-term residence in the supernatural fandom, please have some observations I’ve made over the decade I’ve been here. Take it or leave it as you will, but I’ve found all of this info useful over the years I’ve been here.

I wrote this yesterday, and it achieved its mission of identifying the sort of folks who would react negatively to it (i.e. a lot of block lists have been updated), so now that it’s been edited for content, it’s going under a cut (because that is how we do things on tumblr in general, unless we have a deliberate purpose for annoying readers with excessively long text posts) for the sake of people who actually do care about the fandom and its history. If that’s not you or your reason for being here, then keep on keeping on with your own thing, I guess. For those who are interested, there’s a lot of fandom resources some of us have been building for years that you might enjoy knowing about.

First off, I’ve been informed by a few friends who’ve read through this for coherency’s sake that it sort of reads like a *shakes cane from porch* fandom grandma complaint, but honestly... I earned this rocking chair and goshdangit imma rock now. So apologies for any “back in my day” vibes or faint aroma of tiger balm this post might give off. Then again, it’s loosely based on a similar post from 2012 so like... time is a flat circle anyway I guess.

1. There is no such thing as “tumblr famous,” unless you’re referring to the hilarious and delightful fic of the same name (please go read it, you will cackle). Posting Hot Takes for imaginary Clout™ on this site is kind of pointless in the long run. Sure you can post solely for the sake of stirring shit and getting notes, but the majority of the folks who do aren’t long term residents of the fandom. They’re just tourists moving through our little beach town for spring break. If you’re actually intent on moving to this corner of the fandom for an extended stay, please bother to really feel out the permanent residents and understand the culture and general mood of the neighborhood. It bears no resemblance to whatever’s going on across town where all the bars and beach parities are happening, and those loud, drunken revelers are, again, gonna disappear back to their regular lives or on to the next party eventually. That doesn’t mean the fandom is dying, it’s just evolving.

(funny how I had several comments implying that I’m just trying to keep the fandom from evolving with this post, because I sincerely do want the fandom to continue on for years to come, and that is impossible without evolution. We can evolve without self-immolating, though. mostly i included point 1 for an excuse to push ancient but hilarious fanfic on you.)

2. Once you post something here, it’s been unleashed to the fandom winds. You never know where it will end up, or who will comment on it or add to it. Remember that time Misha tweeted the link to the Epic Cockles Love Story post? No? It was wild. That was 2012. They all know we’re here, and how to find us if they want to. Please don’t take it to their doorsteps.

Obviously if someone is being a dick on your posts, please feel free to block them, but the whole entire point of this site is to engage people with your posts. Being big mad that someone reblogged your post with comments or supporting evidence, or happy headcanons or “HECK THIS IS GREAT BECAUSE (insert personal story about their experience or whatever else made them Feel Things about your post)” is frankly ridiculous. If your goal is to avoid any sort of engagement with your posts, then maybe try instagram instead. From what I understand, there is a SPN fandom presence there, and nobody can tarnish your original posts with unwanted commentary. But the ability to reblog with additional commentary is a FEATURE of tumblr that builds community through conversation. Otherwise we’re all just talking to ourselves in a vacuum, and that’s what actually kills fandoms.

(and for the folks who just want to blog how they want to blog and don’t want people to engage on their posts at all, please feel free to block anyone you want, as well... nobody wants to step on your toes, but most of us also don’t want to walk on eggshells wondering if this post is one of the “do not add comments for any reason” sorts of posts, either. This is a huge fandom and most people can’t even begin to keep track of every creator and their url du jour, and what their personal rules might be regarding interaction with their content. Including a “please don’t add comments” note at the bottom of your posts-- and not in your tags that won’t even show up on reblogs, but in the actual body of the post-- would sincerely help avoid any awkward or unwanted interactions, too. At the end of the day, you are in control of your own fandom experience and the block button exists.

For the record, I block zero fandom blogs (which is why I posted this, I wanted it to reach a wide scope... refer to the opening paragraphs as to why).

3. Since this post was partly inspired by a tag I left on that post going around about how “previous tags” mean fuckall on this site (which you can read here), just a reminder that if you like someone’s tags or feel they add value to the post, part of the Peer Review structure of tumblr encourages you to PASTE THEM INTO A REBLOG. If you do this, then at least credit the person who actually wrote the tags! Don’t just copy someone else’s tags into your tags on your reblog of the post without credit either. They were not YOUR tags. (I have had this happen to tag rambles I wrote and someone else got credited with them on a subsequent reblog and it is FRUSTRATING). Just... don’t even bother to write “previous tags” because WHAT PREVIOUS TAGS?! Nobody is gonna bother to chase back the chain of reblogs trying to find where the mystery tags came from, friendos. That way lies madness.

(for the record, since some folks seemed to focus on this point solely, writing “previous tags” on a post isn’t inherently a BAD thing, but for anyone who actually is here for more than one-off shitposting, then it’s sort of a pointless thing in the long run. This wasn’t intended to suggest people who ARE here for one-off shitposting are bad or “doing it wrong,” but for people who might actually want to preserve that hilarious joke or insightful comment. People delete posts and entire blogs all the time around here. Links break. I get that the upcoming generation just shrugs at that and moves on with their lives, but heck... you don’t have to accept that all entertainment is disposable if you don’t want to. There’s a bizarre sort of nihilism plaguing us all about the impermanence of pretty much everything that feels like something we should be fighting against rather than buying into wholesale, even in our escapist entertainment. I’m just exhausted by the complete loss of joy in community.

*shouts from the peanut gallery* IT AIN’T THAT DEEP, JUST GET SOME FRESH AIR AND LOOK AT A PUPPY OR SOMETHING

Yes... yes it isn’t really that deep, but bigger picture in the state of reality we’re all entirely disillusioned with, are we supposed to just give up on everything, including the things we cling to because they bring us a tiny spark of hope that we’re not all just trapped in this dystopian nightmare and things might actually be worth living for?

*peanut gallery clinging to burnt husks of peanuts in a barren peanut field* but this is how we have chosen to cope

Okay... you do you... I feel bad for you but if that’s the case then this post is NOT FOR YOU. AND THAT’S FINE. I honestly do not care if you don’t care! I mean, I’m sorry anyone has to live in a world that drives them to that mindset, but I understand. This post is for anyone who might look at their lives and their choices and think “no wait, I unironically enjoy this and want more from the experience of that enjoyment than I’m currently feeling.” Everyone else can continue with their lives as usual.)

4. CONTENT THEFT IS NEVER OKAY. PERIOD. Things like “credit to the artist” or tagging gifs or images you found on pinterest as “not mine” isn’t actually credit. If you can’t source an image or gif set, DO NOT POST IT! We don’t REPOST (i.e. save an image and then create a new post with it as if it was our own creation). We REBLOG (click the little square arrows and reblog from the actual creator). That goes for gif sets, fanvids, screencaps, meta, fic... everything.

(hopefully everyone here already understands this one, but I felt compelled to include some “these are stupidly obvious” reminders anyway, since this is ostensibly some sort of advice column. This is the equivalent of the warning label on your toaster reminding you not to use it in the bath. Like... duh...)

5. Close kin of item 4 is SOURCE YOUR SHIT. 

(for 100% disclosure purposes, I specifically discussed this one in this specific way because of an influx of anon ask messages I received in the wake of the finale. Literally the inciting incident for creating this entire post was what I can only assume was a joking ask about a comment Misha made at a con years ago. Someone actually bothered to take the time to type out those sentences to me. I have no idea what they were expecting in reply, or what could possibly motivate them to send this comment about something so entirely random from, again, several years ago. Just a joke? No idea, but whatever... it got me thinking that there might actually be people who are new to the fandom who MIGHT actually care about the fandom history, and maybe they just don’t know where to go for that info, or how to even begin searching through 16 years of history for things they might actually find enjoyment in, rather than just hauling random out of context garbage out on main and pointing and laughing about it now. People are actually allowed to care about things. It’s not cringeworthy to actually care about things, and you are not alone in actually caring, and there’s this whole big room over here full of people who are thrilled to share in that with you. This post is intended FOR THOSE PEOPLE SPECIFICALLY, so if that is not you, please just continue walking by.)

Yes, I know lots of y’all are new around here right now, but dredging up stuff from years ago that fandom has completely debunked and presenting it as TRU FAX again is just exhausting. We’re not trying to be party poopers, but seriously, we have seen it all and are mostly done with extinguishing bags of flaming dog poop on our front porches for the umpteenth year in a row. I’ve seen a lot of posts that have the same tone as “I saw Goody Proctor dancing with the devil” or “I heard kylo ren has an eight pack” and just... the information is there for anyone who cares enough to find it.

This goes double for “why is nobody talking about this thing I just discovered while watching the show for the first time?!” And, oh hon, we have talked it all into the ground over the last fifteen years. We’re happy you’re discovering it again, but I promise we talked about it plenty when the episodes originally aired. We have such a rich meta history that lots of us have worked really hard to preserve. I encourage you to seek it out, if nothing else than as historical artifacts. The way we have discussed the show has been a 16-year evolution. People have written literal doctoral dissertations on this show. Your shitposts are fun! We love reliving our own experience through fresh eyes, and seeing your wonder at experiencing it all again for the first time! But y’all didn’t invent this fandom in the last six months, either.

Meta Sources and Minerals provided by our friendly neighborhood fandom archivist, @lets-steal-an-archive

Academic books and articles about SPN 

A collection of Meta Essays going back to s1 and organized by topic (all of this has happened before, all of it will happen again)

SPN Heavy Meta Archive (s1-3)

Mel’s Dreamwidth archive of meta (s1-12)

Oranges8hands Dreamwidth archive of meta (s1-15, with many similar entries to Mel’s... though ymmv on viewpoint in a lot of these too)

Anyone remember Fandom Wank? Not the concept but the actual LJ... No? Okay have a link to SPN topics that ended up there. Through 2013. We have seen so much... including several fandom containment breaches.

for all your art sourcing needs, please see @theroadsofararchive, the repository for so much fandom art.

need to find a gif of something? canonspngifs is a vast repository of gifsets of the entire series. If the gif you want to use in your post happens to be the first gif in the gifset, in the tumblr gif finder thingy just paste the permalink to that post from canonspngifs (which is easily searchable by episode, character, location, situation, quotes, and sometimes even color and clothing items the actors are wearing... it’s really well organized, especially for tumblr >.>) and the first gif will be automatically linked with credit to the gif creator attached. It makes life easy that way. It’s also convenient when trying to remember something specific but can’t remember what episode it’s from. I’ve used the site to jog my memory before going to the superwiki armed with more specific search results to find episode quotes and references. Or sometimes I just scroll through all the nice gifs for fun, too.

Need a screencap of something and know exactly which episode it’s from? Try Home of the Nutty. You might not find the exact screencap you’re looking for, but they have a complete set of caps of every episode, and it’s an incredibly useful resource for quick reference checks and the like. Just give pages a chance to fully load before clicking on the next one. The site is easily overloaded, but it’s still free to use (and again, with credit... Pretty much every screencap on my entire blog is from HotN unless otherwise credited).

As you can see, this is a fandom built on preserving our history. You absolutely are not required to engage with any of this if that’s not of interest to you, but I can only assume that there are people who would be interested in it if only they knew it existed and how to find it. Well, now they do.

6. A few more notes on tags, and how they work on tumblr. The first 20 tags on your ORIGINAL posts are searchable sitewide, so if you want to be able to find something again, tag that thing first before going on general tag rambles. The only place tags on reblogs are searchable is on your own blog. So you don’t have to put 50 tags trying to get a post seen if it’s a reblog. You’re just spitting into the wind at that point. If you have a filing system for finding things again, then by all means add those tags (again, in the first 20, so they’re searchable), but you don’t need to tag a reblog “destiel” and “deancas” and “dean” and “cas” and “dean x cas” or whatever. Pick one for your personal blog’s filing system, that’s all you need.

(this was only added because tagging and searching on this site is so very broken... I get that a lot of folks don’t care about ever searching their own blogs again for anything, so this one only really applies if you do often find yourself trying to find old posts. If not, then it’s not really relevant.  It took me years to work out a decent tagging system, and at the beginning of my time here I never thought I’d end up camping out here for a decade and falling this deep into the fandom, and I regretted my lack of consistent tags only years later when I realized I actually wanted to be able to go back and find specific old posts again. So... for anyone who wants to err on the side of caution, working out a sensible tagging system really helps if you’re here for the long term. I personally tag content by episode, because some of my other general tags are so large as to be practically useless as a search term. But whatever system you choose to file stuff on your own blog, it really only has to make sense to you. And again, if this is pointless advice for someone who has no intention of settling here for the long term. Please feel free to ignore it. I just wish someone had explained it this way to me ten years ago and saved me the hassle of retroactively tagging something like 30k posts... especially now that using the mass tag replacer is the fastest way to get your entire blog deleted... oops? so yeah, don’t use the mass tag replacer either >.>)

7. Tags on Tumblr DO NOT WORK LIKE TAGS ON TWITTER. If you @ someone in the body of the post, it will show up in their notifications (if they’re the sort of person who even checks their notifications... not all of us do. For the record, I generally don’t...), but putting actor or ship names in the tags on a tumblr post does absolutely nothing. It’s not the same as tagging the actor’s twitter account in a tweet. Nobody’s getting notifications about you tagging a post about Jensen here as “Jensen Ackles.” There is a difference. Please learn it. (and don’t take headcanons and ESPECIALLY RPF or otherwise explicit art or fic from tumblr to twitter and tag the actors in it. That’s just... not okay.)

(I have seen the pearl clutchers getting all in a huff about the mere existence of RPF or even explicit content of fictional characters if it doesn’t meet their purity standards, but tagging those things allows people who don’t want to see it to actively avoid that content here. Nobody has a right to tell people their fictional content shouldn’t exist at all, or that creators of that fictional content somehow deserve harassment or threats for having dared to create such “immoral” content, won’t somebody PLEASE think of the children... and no... you do not do that here. Don’t be the problematic behavior you wish to ban from the world. Learn to use tags to protect yourself from, as i have attempted to emphasize here, fictional content you are personally upset by. That’s a you problem, not a problem for the creators of potentially upsetting content that they tag appropriately for.)

8. General formatting stuff: If you’re writing long text posts, visually break them up so people aren’t faced with one long wall of text. The enter key is your friend. Also, if you put long text posts under a Read More break and send people to your blog to finish reading, please ensure that your blog is actually visually accessible (tiny text, or light grey text on a dark grey background, or a visually busy background might be aesthetically pleasing to you but nobody can actually read it. Loads of folks won’t even try. Which is great if you don’t actually care whether people are able to appreciate your content or not, but something to at least consider if you *do* actively want to encourage engagement with your work. Confirm how your blog looks on both mobile and desktop and make sure it’s actually functional in both, too).

And since I mentioned that most of my experience on fandom tumblr has been in the SPN fandom, here’s a bit of a reminder for folks who are new around here. With the reminder that I have been here more than a decade and still feel like a newbie myself sometimes...

This is an OLD FANDOM. There are many, many people who have been at this longer than some of you have been alive. The average age for creators in this fandom is older than you think (I think of my friends in their 30′s as young’ins okay? okay). With that understood, you are responsible for the content you consume and are exposed to. Curate your experience. Ship and let ship. YKINMKATOK. Don’t deliberately expose yourself to content you find upsetting for whatever reason. Tags and warnings are your friends, not targets for you to attack in some sort of purity war. People will ship things you do not like (or in specific ways you do not like), will say things you do not agree with, and will find their happiness in things you abhor. That is not your concern. Find what you do like, and support and engage with it, and ignore (or block, or unfollow) the rest. Tumblr has a feature that lets you blacklist tags so the content you’re trying to avoid won’t appear on your dash.

Remember the paradox of tolerance.

It is not your job in fandom to police how other people enjoy the fandom. It’s not *my* job to police how *you* enjoy the fandom, UNLESS your enjoyment is in actively harming other real human beings in the fandom. If you don’t like their take on the character or the show or the plotlines or their ships or anything else, you don’t need to engage with their posts at all! The necessary corollary to this is that clarifying misunderstandings or correcting factual misinformation is not “policing.” 

(this is where the peanut gallery reminds me it ain’t that deep, and I plead with them to put down the social media and find just one (1) thing to actually believe in in this godforsaken life, find something other than disdain and cynicism and spite to live for. If those things motivate you to find a larger cause for yourself, then great, use them to your advantage, but use them to find something that makes you a better person or brings you a modicum of joy and connection to your fellow human beings despite living in a dystopian hellscape of a world)

I have seen a lot of posts lately that are founded on the sort of authority that comes with “I watched through tumblr for a few months and then watched the last three episodes of the series” and as such are just... missing the larger context of the entire show, and are unfounded entirely in canon. I 100% appreciate the new enthusiasm for the fandom that we’ve been living in here for years, and it’s wonderful to see new people enjoying the thing we love. Your headcanons are valid, you are valid, but recognize that your headcanons aren’t canon. All of us finale denialists have accepted this in some measure, so we feel you. We truly, truly feel you. But regarding actual canon, we have a resource for that: the Superwiki. Learn it, live it, love it, as Metatron would say.

(which you could discover he said in 10.17 Inside Man, thanks to the superwiki! accept no substitutes!)

(and again, there have been people who have been involved in fandom for years who haven’t engaged with canon in years, either! You can play in this universe however you choose, BUT FOR PEOPLE WHO ACTUALLY CARE ABOUT CANON AT ALL, WHICH I AM AGAIN POINTEDLY SAYING MIGHT NOT BE YOU, READER, AND I’M NOT SUGGESTING YOU ARE WRONG FOR NOT WANTING TO ACTUALLY ENGAGE WITH CANON, but if you DO want to engage with canon, please have some useful resources. Why do people feel personally attacked by being presented a list of helpful resources? Absolutely baffling.)

(also: words have definitions. “Canon” is a specific thing, meaning in this case “the finished media product that aired on television.” Anything beyond those limits is secondary canon (think: john’s journal, which is not canon but canon adjacent at best...), word of god (i.e stuff said by the writers and showrunners), or headcanon (which includes actor commentary-- they may have helped create the show with their acting choices and whatever, but they are not in control of the story overall). If there’s something you dislike about actual canon, you can reject it and supplement it with your own theories or preferred outcomes-- that’s basically what fanfic is-- but that doesn’t make your theories canon (much to all our dismay, that’s just not how any of this works. This is not to invalidate how anyone engages with the show or the fandom, just trying to clarify what seems to have been a source of unintentional misunderstandings. Your theories do not have to be “canon” to be legitimate interpretations.)

***I am setting this section apart, and did make a separate post of just this following information, because this is where we go from being relatively chill about different parts of fandom choosing to interact in different ways and you do you and blog however you want, to “hey can everybody please understand that the way you are interacting with this specific material might be harmful for specific legal reasons, and stating that you do not care about the consequences of your actions does actively make you the asshole here...” Okay, now that we have that understood:

The spnscripthunt collective has been steadily acquiring new scripts (which are posted in full on the superwiki for everyone to enjoy, for free). The language around how some folks are talking about these scripts is... concerning. For very real legal reasons, actually, and not because we’re feeling precious about the collection and don’t wike it when meanies use them in shitposts.

-First off, these scripts are not “leaks.” They are all verified and legally purchased (or gifted, in some cases, but still acquired entirely above board. we didn’t whack anyone over the head in a back alley for these scripts, or swipe them out of someone’s trailer on set).

(in case anyone was unaware, these scripts are the copywritten protected property of Warner Brothers. So yes, how we use them and share them with the fandom could have legal repercussions. We present them as a collected resource of fandom history which SHOULD fall under Fair Use doctrine, but this is untested legal water. Insinuating that the scripts are somehow not entirely legally obtained, or that posting them for public access involved less than 100% transparent and entirely legal transactions is incredibly concerning.

Once again for the peanut gallery, if you don’t care about any of that and are just having a good time with it, at least be mindful of the work and expense a large group of people have gone through to acquire and present the content you’re all too eager to exploit for cheap thrills. Some of us do actually care and are not exactly comfortable with the fact that others don’t seem to care about burning it all to the ground. We can’t force you to listen or behave as we’d hope you might, but at least be aware of the potential consequences of your actions. All we’re asking is for you to not be the douchebag who sets the whole neighborhood on fire with your illegal fireworks display. Is that too much to ask for? more on that in a second, first... a psa)

-If you see a script for sale and are unsure if it’s legit (or believe it might already be freely available in our collection), please feel free to ask us for advice. Our goal is to make as much of our fandom history available to the entire fandom, and we absolutely do not want anyone shelling out money for stuff you can already find for free.

(seriously, we’ve seen a bunch of resellers cropping up selling printed versions of the scripts we bought and uploaded for everyone to enjoy free of charge, or scripts that are otherwise of dubious origin. We’ve been at this for years now and know what’s actually out there. We don’t want anyone to fall for a scam if we can help it)

-Also, the usual reminder that the scripts we acquire ARE NOT NECESSARILY THE FINAL SHOOTING DRAFTS. In fact, the majority of scripts in our collection are NOT. Changes are made daily to scripts, even during filming. Comparing a Production Draft (white pages, effectively the first “final draft” of what usually becomes a series of drafts before filming wraps) to a much later revision (say... green or goldenrod revisions, several of which we DO have in our collection for comparison) and how those earlier drafts often differ wildly from the aired version versus how similar a much later green draft is to the aired version, for example, can teach you a lot about the television writing process. The link above to the superwiki scripts page has a nice little explainer about how this process works.

Differences between our posted scripts (many of which are white drafts, aka FIRST complete drafts, which will likely go through multiple rounds of revisions before filming even begins) and the aired version of the show are not all “acting choices” or a director or editor just cutting whole scenes on a whim. It’s insulting to everyone involved in production to suggest that’s the case.

(and yeah, fine... whatever, make any sort of posts you like regarding how those changes came about, but at the very least understand that it’s not actually the truth about how any of this works. Don’t care that that’s not the truth and want to make the posts anyway because shitposting is fun and that’s the extent of your sense of humor? FINE! You’re entitled to do that! But at least you DO know the truth now, and hopefully so do the people who engage with your posts. Deliberate ignorance isn’t cute, smooth lions notwithstanding)

There’s probably a whole other post to be made on fandom tagging etiquette, but again I don’t really use the tags enough to know what’s going on with that whole situation. I’ve also probably left a lot of stuff out, so please feel free to add things I’ve overlooked.

Thanks also to @trisscar368 and @thayerkerbasy for help compiling this, too. They were kind enough to escort me through the park to feed these pigeons. Now I need to take them out for ice cream. :’D

So I guess welcome to the neighborhood. Make yourself at home, but like... try not to trash the place while you’re here. Some of us live here by choice, lol.

[soobmint]

paper hearts | choi soobin [f] ; [c] 80s! au, 9.6k words

s u m m a r y ; if there was one thing you wanted to avoid on valentine’s day, it was running into your ex best friend, choi soobin. but when a series of unfortunate events involving too much purple eyeshadow, drunken punches, and one stolen bicycle leads you right back to his side, you begin to realize that maybe you truly belonged with him all along.

c o n t e n t s ; soobin x fem!reader, 80s! au, valentine’s day, ex best friend! soobin, rich boy! soobin, but he’s a major dweeb and the biggest softie, yeonjun is a major prick (i’m so sorry junnie), reader is a part time worker, soobin is best friends with lee felix of stray kids, some themes of social classes, roughly inspired by the 80s movie “pretty in pink,” mentions drugs, alcohol, and single parent households, mostly just fluff, fluff, and more fluff, with a hint of crack/humor

n o t e ; hello friends! this was a very quickly planned, last minute valentine’s day idea, and it’s actually a collab with one of my dearest friends, @chanluster ! she posted her piece of the collab as well, you can check it out by going to the collab masterlist here! this was so much fun to write and i think that 80s! soobin was just too good of a concept to pass up! anyways, happy valentine’s day, i hope you enjoy this oneshot! do leave a like, reblog, or comment if you could, it really helps so much <3

[back to my masterlist] [oneshot playlist]

IF ONE MORE CUT-OUT, CRAFT-PAPER HEART HIT YOU IN THE FACE, YOU WERE GOING TO QUIT YOUR JOB.

Of course you would never actually quit. With your mother out of the picture and your father working nonstop overtime just to barely have enough cash to put food on the table for the both of you, you had come to rely on your minimum wage part-time hours more than you liked to admit. However, the handmade strings of paper hearts that hung from wall to wall throughout the entirety of the record shop you were employed at was enough to make you consider it; not to mention the Phil Collins record that had been spinning all day, filling your ears with melodies embodying the very air of romance, and the embarrassing pink sweater your boss had forced you to wear. You mumbled curses beneath your breath as you pulled at the collar, itching away at your neck.

When you made a step towards a crate full of records, ready to tidy it up after a customer had rummaged through it leaving it a mess, you were met with another face full of cheap red construction paper. With a large growl of exasperation, you swatted at the hearts and accidentally caused the entire string of them to fall to the ground. You cleared your throat, glad that no customers were present to see your little outburst.

Your boss, Jen, still saw it all.

“That’s not very festive of you, kid,” She said, taking a drag on her cigarette. “It’s Valentine’s Day! Lighten up.”

“Ah, my bad. I forgot that I was supposed to be overjoyed on the day honoring the execution of St. Valentine,” You said as you gave her a sarcastic smile. “I’ll make sure to smile at the next couple that walks in and ask them how they plan to contribute to the commercialization of a martyr’s death.”

“You must be real fun at parties,” Jen mumbled. She shook her cigarette at you from behind the counter. “You’re just bitter because you don’t have a valentine. I can’t blame anyone for giving you the cold shoulder with that attitude of yours.”

You scowled, picking up the string of hearts that you had sent crashing to the floor. “I’m not bitter, and I don’t want a date. Also, I told you to stop smoking inside! It smells awful.”

“Last I checked, this was my shop, not yours.” You rolled your eyes as you approached the counter, handing the discarded string to Jen so she could throw it in the trash. “Now you’re making me do chores for you too? You’ve got some nerve, I’ll give you that.”

“Jen, please, I’m really not in the mood for this today.”

Jen shrugged, bending towards the trash can to throw away the string of hearts when she paused and pulled something from the bin. You glanced over your shoulder and gasped when you saw what she held in her hand—a small red envelope with your name scrawled across the front and a pink heart-shaped sticker stuck on the back.

“What’s this?” Jen asked, opening the envelope and shaking out the contents. A single slip of paper fell out, landing atop the counter. You rushed to grab it, but Jen snatched it up just before your fingers reached the countertop.

“Give me that,” You insisted, face growing warm. “I threw it away for a reason!”

“It’s an invitation to a party?” She seemed beyond surprised, glancing back and forth between you and the paper several times. “You got invited to a Valentine’s Day party, and instead of going, you asked me to give you extra hours? Why?”

You looked down at your feet, digging the toe of your sneaker into the blue carpet. There were, in fact, many reasons why you did not want to go to that party. They were as follows:

One: Choi Yeonjun was the one who had invited you. After you had rejected his offer when he asked to take you to a basketball game a month before, you could barely make eye contact with him in the school hallway without feeling guilty. That and the fact that he was one of the richest preps in the school, you knew he had just been asking you out for some sort of prank or dare that you preferred to not potentially fall victim to.

Two: you needed to work as much as you could. Money, as always, was tight for you and your father. There was no way you would sacrifice precious hours to go to a party full of rich kids where nothing but humiliation was sure to await you.

Three: your old childhood friend and the one person you couldn’t bear to see was probably going to be there—Choi Soobin.

You had barely spoken to Soobin in the four years you had been in high school. Crossing paths with him in the cafeteria, turning down the same aisle of books as him in the library, all those tiny stolen glances and accidental encounters were the only bits of interaction you had kept throughout all that time. The worst part was, he hadn’t done anything wrong.

It was nothing but your own cowardice that had driven the two of you apart, and you were still too afraid to own up to it.

Instead of explaining all of this to Jen, you simply shrugged and said, “I dunno. It just sounds lame.”

Your boss sighed, holding the invitation out towards you. “Okay, I’m letting you off early. Go to the party.”

With wide eyes, you shook your head immediately. “Absolutely not. Why in the world would I go?”

“Well, first of all, it’s a once in a lifetime opportunity for you. Who knows when your next chance to go to a party will be.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at that.

“Second, it’s a holiday! The only reason I even opened today was because you were begging me for hours. I thought it was because you were bummed about having no plans, but clearly it’s because you wanted an excuse to be a recluse.”

“Hey, I’m not a recluse.”

“Clearly.” She shook the invitation at you once more, brows raised. “If you go, I’ll raise your pay by fifty cents for the next month.”

Your ears perked up at that.

“Well?” She asked, well aware that she had hit the jackpot. “What'd ya say?”

Weighing the risks against the benefits, you bit the inside of your cheek.

“Make it a dollar and you’ve got a deal.” 

-

“HAPPY VALENTINE’S, CHOI.”

When Soobin heard the sarcastic remark coming from his best friend, Felix, he had to fight back the urge to burst into tears then and there. He still wasn’t quite sure how Felix had convinced him to come, but he was already regretting it. The last thing he wanted to do to celebrate the day dedicated to love was spend it at a house party—or, as Soobin preferred to call them, any outcast high school kid’s version of hell on earth.

With a quick peek between his fingers, which he had used to cover his eyes immediately upon arriving at the site of the Valentine’s party, Soobin caught another eye-full of couples getting all too familiar with one another out in the open. He gulped, letting his hands grip the handles of the bike as he averted his gaze, choosing to cast his best glare at Felix, who was busy adjusting his ever-present beanie.

“Shut up,” he murmured, slowly sliding off the seat of his bike. He dusted off the worn, tearing cushion, glancing around the area. “Now quick, we gotta put our stuff somewhere safe.”

Felix looked aghast, making no moves to help Soobin in his search for a hiding spot. “What are you doing?”

“Tryna find a safe place for my bike?” He thought the answer to be somewhat obvious, but clearly Felix wasn’t on the same track of thinking. “You don’t know today’s world! Anyone is willing to steal nowadays.”

“Soobin, your bike is coughing up oil from its chains. It should be in its own care home at this rate.”

“I don’t wanna hear your slander, skater boy,” Soobin retorted, eyeing Felix’s ebony skateboard that he refused to be seen without. As if on cue, when he pushed his bike forward, the chains squealed, drawing the attention of a pair of particularly passionate individuals who had been wrapped up with one another moments before. Soobin ignored their annoyed stares, feeling his ears burn from embarrassment. He glanced back to Felix. “Help me find a hiding spot.”

Felix was anything but enthusiastic, but he began to help Soobin search nonetheless.

“Slide it in here, Soobs,” Felix called a few moments later. He was pointed to an empty space between the home’s perfectly trimmed bushes. Soobin pursed his lips together, pushing his large glasses further up the bridge of his nose—a nervous tick of his. Felix groaned, rolling his eyes. “Or you can leave it out in the open so it’ll spit more oil on the passersby? Is that what you want?”

“Fine, fine!” Soobin huffed, wheeling his bike over to the shrubbery, chains squeaking all the way. He carefully laid it beneath the brush and moved a few branches to cover it up nicely. He stood up straight, dusting his hands on the front of his loose blue jeans. “What about your skateboard?”

Felix gave the board a pat, awarding his most prized possession a dazzling smile one would expect to see a proud father giving his beloved son. But in reality, it was the school’s stoner grinning ear to ear at his old, dusty skateboard. “Nightrider stays with me.”

Soobin scrunched his nose, cringing on instinct. He still calls that thing by that stupid name?

Felix clapped him on the shoulder before he could make a remark, catching him off guard when he said, “Right. Let’s go and get your girl.”

There was nothing Soobin could do to stop the flush that rushed to his cheeks right away. Images of you, his ex-best friend and the only reason he had even come to this party in the first place, flashed through his mind. Had he not overheard Yeonjun invite you earlier that morning and then casually mention the encounter to Felix, there was no way he would have even stepped foot out of his house that night. Part of him was peeved, wishing he had never uttered a single word about you to his overbearing friend. Yet, deep down, there was hope within him—the tiniest sliver.

If there was even the slightest chance that he could talk to you that night, he would do anything. Even if it meant dealing with a stupid party, and the never-ceasing teasing he was bound to continue receiving from Felix.

“Don’t even say that,” He said, emphasizing each word as they walked up the front steps. Soobin had to glance down at his much shorter friend to see the devious grin on his freckled face.

“Say what? That she’s your girl, your woman, your one and only?”

The blush must have been creeping to his neck by that point. He could feel it. “I. . .” There were many things Soobin wished to say; angry words that would hopefully shut the blonde skater boy up real quick. But he couldn’t bring himself to say a single harsh word, so he sighed in defeat. “I can’t even say it.”

“That you hate me?” Felix only grinned even bigger, and Soobin couldn’t help the tiny defeated smile that slipped over his features. “Oh, I know. It’s because I’m too good of a best friend.”

They stepped into the house then, instantly being overwhelmed by loud music, boisterous laughter, and drunken yells echoing throughout the halls. Soobin latched onto Felix right away, gripping his friend’s sleeve as someone stumbled into him, a bit of beer spilling from their cup. He pushed his glasses up, only for them to slide right back down as he began to sweat.

“Maybe we should go home, Lix!” Soobin shouted to be heard over the noise as they travelled further into the house. “We can always try next year!”

“Stop being a scaredy-cat!” Felix shouted back, and Soobin thought he might actually begin to cry as they squeezed their way into the living room. Soobin nearly gagged at the strong smell of alcohol as it burned in his nose. The scene was nothing short of a nightmare to Soobin—loud voices, smoke rising in the air, vodka assaulting his nose and sweat beading on the back of his neck. He had never been one to drink, and he didn’t plan on starting that night; but he was beginning to understand what Felix meant when he had once told him it was nearly impossible to get through one of these parties sober.

He was about to make another complaint and beg to leave when someone from the crowd hollered his name, causing him to wince when he recognized that voice as the one that belonged to none other than Choi Yeonjun.

“Soobin! Where you been?”

Soobin smiled nervously at the school’s heartthrob—and textbook snobby rich kid—before he turned back to Felix. He didn’t want to leave his friend, but he knew that he would never hear the end of it if he ignored Yeonjun’s persistent calls. “I’ll be right back,” He promised Felix, still holding onto his sleeve.

“No, no,” Felix assured. “You go. You’ll probably find her around that place anyway.”

Soobin wasn’t so sure of that. You were definitely not of the right social standing to be caught amongst the circle of the school’s rich boys—which was why it had surprised Soobin that Yeonjun had invited you to the party in the first place. Your high school had its own caste system, and you were near the bottom of it.

And, as much as it pained him to admit it, Soobin was stuck at the very top with all the other rich snobs who cared about nothing more than their daily allowances that came straight from their daddy’s bank account.

“What about you, buddy?” He asked Felix, desperate for any excuse to remain by his friend’s side. He would have tried to bring Felix with him, but his friend was in an even worse social standing than you were—he was poor, and he was most known for being the school’s pothead. There was no way Soobin would willingly drag him into a situation where nothing but slander and torment awaited him.

“Me?” Felix shrugged, gripping his board tighter. “I’ll just smoke away the night.”

Soobin pouted, glancing back at the group of preps as they called for him once again. He sighed, clapping Felix on the shoulder. “Just make sure you won’t smell too much of it when I come back.”

Submitting himself to his doom then, he turned on his heel and slowly made his way to where the group of  boys sat near the sofa, giving them a half-hearted wave.

“Why were you hanging around that Felix guy?” Yeonjun asked once Soobin had reached their circle. “Did he blackmail you or something?”

Soobin frowned, pushing his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “He’s my friend.”

Yeonjun rolled his eyes, brushing a hand through his perfectly-straightened ebony locks. “Sure he is. Tell me, do you see every kid you find on the streets as some sort of personal charity project? Or is it just Felix and—what was her name—” He snapped his fingers then before he said, “Y/N, right?”

Soobin didn’t respond—well, it was more like he couldn’t respond. By nature he was a very passive being, but nothing drew him closer to bouts of anger than when the people he cared about were being insulted right before him.

Especially when it came to you.

Yet, as much as he wanted to tell Yeonjun off or give him a nice shove into the smoke-stained walls, words failed him. They always did. Perhaps this was why you had abandoned him all those years ago. Nobody knew him better than you did, so of course you were able to see what he truly was beneath all the expensive clothes and nervous laughter—a coward.

He figured that he’d probably have left himself too.

“Drink up, buttercup.” The chipper voice that belonged to the other Choi in the small gathering of socialites, Choi Beomgyu, thrust a plastic red cup towards Soobin’s chest. 

He shook his head, throwing another wavering smile in his direction. “No thanks. I don’t drink.”

Yeonjun rolled his eyes. “Of course you don’t. Why are you even here then?”

Once again, Soobin chose silence as his only response. He swallowed, patting the front pocket of his denim jacket. As the group of boys began conversing once more, he couldn’t help but let his eyes wander around the room, searching every drunken face for the features that belonged to you, trying to hear your name in every conversation, desperate for your voice to break through the blasting music and shouting voices.

“Who ya looking for there, Big Choi?” Soobin grimaced at the nickname. He was skinny, but incredibly tall, and nobody would let him forget that. “Big Choi” was one of his most common nicknames among the elitists. He despised it, but of course, he would never voice that aloud.

He glanced at Beomgyu and smiled nervously again, shaking his head. “Nobody.”

His eyes met Yeonjun’s and he gulped yet again as the latter eyed him with suspicion. It wasn’t as though he had anything to hide, but something about Yeonjun’s calculating gaze made his skin crawl.

He needed to escape. Just for a moment, at least.

“I’ll be right back. Going to find some water.”

He slipped out of the living room then, apologizing profusely to each couple he accidentally bumped into, bowing in remorse to each person’s toes his big feet happened to stumble over. He ached to be by Felix’s side—the stoned skateboarder had become somewhat of a security blanket to the taller of the duo—but his blonde friend was nowhere to be seen.

After snagging a bottle of water from the kitchen, Soobin managed to slip into an empty bathroom. He slammed the door shut and wasted no time in locking it. Letting out the biggest sigh of relief, he closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the door, taking a big gulp of the ice cold water.

He set the bottle on the counter and carefully reached into the front pocket of his jacket, his fingers finding the piece of paper he had been storing there all evening. He pulled it out and let his eyes wander over his middle school creation. It was a big heart, cut out from a scrap piece of red construction paper. Scrawled across it in his eight-grade handwriting were the words, Be mine this Valentine’s! His name was etched at the bottom, and at the very top, delicately printed in hot pink glitter glue, your name was written as well.

He had planned to give this to you four years ago on Valentine’s day. Everything had been planned out perfectly; he was to pick you up on his old, trusty bike. It wasn’t really made for two people, but the two of you had fashioned a makeshift extra seat for you to sit upon whenever you went places together. 

He wanted to take you to the Dairy Shack, which was the local ice cream shop where the two of you spent the most time together. You always got a large chocolate shake to share, playing a quick game of rock, paper, scissors to decide who got to eat the cherry on top. He was going to order a shake and specially ask for two cherries that time, and planned to give both of them to you before he would bravely present you with the handmade card he had spent all day working on.

However, when he waited for you outside your house that day, the red dusk turned to pitch black night, and you never stepped foot out your door.

He had even gone up to your door a few times and knocked, but there was no answer. Eventually he pedalled off into the night, back to his house. He was disappointed, of course, but more worried than anything else. He had hoped you weren’t sick.

But when he saw you at school the next day, he knew that hadn’t been the case.

And when you ignored him calling your name as you passed by him in the hallways, he knew that something had drastically changed.

For weeks, Soobin was in great turmoil as he replayed your last few encounters together before you had stood him up. Perhaps you were angry that he had won the last few games of rock, paper, scissors? If he had known, he would have given you all the cherries for the rest of time if it meant you would still talk to him. He didn’t care about them—he cared about you.

He missed you.

And as weeks turned to months, and months turned to years, you still barely spoke to him, and he missed you more and more. The best friend he had wanted to take a step closer to had taken a thousand steps back from him, and he still had no idea why.

But that night, he was determined to find out.

Well, if he could muster up the courage to get a single word out, of course.

He folded the heart back up and stuck it back in his pocket, taking a deep breath as he observed himself in the fogged-up mirror. He fixed his bright blue hair that Felix had helped him bleach and dye, making sure the pieces fell over the corners of his eyes just right. He straightened his white turtleneck and cuffed the sleeves of his denim jacket until he was at least somewhat content with his appearance.

“You can do this, Soobs,” He told himself, adjusting his big round glasses further up the bridge of his nose. “That’s what Felix would say.”

“Hey, rich boy!” A loud scream came from outside the bathroom door, accompanied by harsh knocking that sent Soobin stumbling backwards until he fell in the shower, pulling the curtains down with him.

“Hurry up in there! I’m about to piss myself!”

Soobin let out a shaky sigh, scrambling to his feet as he rushed to fix the curtain he had torn down with his clumsiness. “Sorry,” he mumbled, though he doubted the person on the other side of the door could hear him.

He realized then with an ever growing dread that it would be a miracle if he survived the night long enough to even find you, but it would take the work of God himself for him to actually speak to you.

He figured it was time for him to start praying.

- 

YOU KNEW IT WAS A MISTAKE TO LET JEN DO YOUR MAKEUP.

When she had stopped you on your way out the door with a compact of bright purple eyeshadow, you had turned her down right away. No way in all of creation were you walking in a party with such an atrocious color caked up to your brow bone.

“How can you say it’s gonna look bad if you haven’t even let me try?” Jen had asked.

You had given her a once-over, your lips pressed into a thin line. “If it’s gonna look anything like the way you do your own makeup, I’m gonna have to pass.”

After that snide remark, she had threatened to fire you if you didn’t let her apply the makeup. And so you obliged, though you didn’t have much of a choice.

The booming sounds of the party hit your ears before you had even reached the lawn. Screaming teens—well, there were probably some adults thrown in there as well—and the sound of music spilled through the open windows of the home. Couples and singles alike were scattered throughout the perfectly kept lawn that was now littered with empty cups and other assortments of garbage.

You looked down at your patchwork jeans and pink sweater, certain that you would be underdressed compared to the rest of the partygoers. But from the looks of things, as you carefully squeezed your way through the front door and into the home, everyone was probably too wasted to even notice your arrival, let alone care about your looks.

You caught a glimpse of your face in the hallway mirror, cringing at the sight of your eyeshadow. You had tried to wipe some of it away before arriving, but it simply smudged, giving you quite the shocking smoky, purple eye look. For someone who didn’t even know the difference between a paintbrush and a makeup brush, it was a bold look, to say the least.

If Soobin saw you looking like this, he’d probably have a heart attack.

Soobin.

In the midst of all your frantic preparation, you had nearly forgotten about the main reason why you had planned to avoid this party at all costs. With a quick glance around the room, you realized that he was nowhere to be seen. You wouldn’t have been surprised if he hadn’t shown up at all. He was never a fan of parties, anyway.

You crossed your arms over your chest and slowly slipped past the couples crowding the hallway with their limbs intertwined, mouths practically swallowing one another whole, until you reached the living room. Surprisingly, it was less crowded in here than you thought it might be. A few minglers were scattered about the room’s perimeter, but they all kept away from the center of the room, which was occupied by none other than Choi Yeonjun and all his brainless, rich-boy worshippers. You quickly scanned the group, not able to make out Soobin among them. When you realized he wasn’t there, you were partly relieved and partly disappointed. If was to be anywhere at this party, it would probably be with these guys.

With a quick turn on your heel, you planned to make your way out of the living room before Yeonjun could see you. The last thing you wanted was for the boy with a bruised ego to see you, regardless of whether or not he had been the one to invite you.

“Y/N? You came?”

Too late.

Plastering a forced grin to your face, you slowly turned to face Yeonjun, who had just called your name. He was eyeing you with slight surprise, but soon, a smirk slipped across his lips as he motioned for you to come over. You had to hold back your sigh, wishing there was some way for you to get out of this situation. It was all Jen’s fault that you had to show up in the first place. You decided you were going to demand an extra ten cents be added to your raise the next time you saw your pushy boss.

“Hey Yeonjun,” you said once you had walked over to him. “I figured I’d stop by for a minute or two, since you were kind enough to invite me.”

He smirked, glancing at a few of his friends. They shared a knowing laugh with one another, but the meaning of it was lost to you. You wanted nothing more than to get away from them, but that wasn’t an option.

“You’re too busy to go out with me to a basketball game but free enough to come to a party, huh?” He asked.

You blinked, digging your nails into your arms. “I’m sorry?”

“It’s fine, really,” He drawled, swirling his plastic cup of beer in his hand. “You didn’t think I’d be upset or anything did you? I only asked you out because I was dared to shack up with you. But I’m guessing you already knew that, since you’re so smart and all.”

Your eyes went wide, but you managed to control the rest of your expression. It was just like you had guessed—Yeonjun had invited you to the party with the sole purpose of making a scene.

If you survived the night, Jen was never going to hear the end of it.

“You’re not gonna say anything?” He asked, pushing himself to his feet. You could tell by the slight stumble in his step and his hooded eyes that he had quite a bit to drink. He took a step towards you, causing you to back up immediately. Your back hit the wall, and you placed your palms against it as Yeonjun towered over you. 

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I know why you’re here anyways.” He leaned forward, his lips hovering near your ear. “You’re here to see Soobin, aren’t you? Since he’s the only one here willing to waste his time on filth like you.”

Your blood boiled, and you had to clench your fists at your sides to control your anger.

“Don’t,” You seethed, “Call me that.”

“Call you what? Filth? Or sweetheart? Why, is that something good old Binnie used to call you—”

He never got to finish that sentence, because with one big burst of anger, you stomped on his toe as hard as you could with your worn-out platform sneaker.

“What the hell!” He screeched, drawing the attention of several others in the room. His outburst even caused a few of the couples to pull away from each other’s faces long enough to eavesdrop.

Before you could even say anything back, lukewarm liquid was splashed up in your face, burning your eyes and nose. You gasped, running your hands over your eyes to see Yeonjun with his now empty cup of beer pointed towards you.

“Think twice before you act out against me next time, sweetheart. Never forget your place.”

Tears of anger burned in your eyes, and you scanned the room to see several people exchanging whispers and giggles as they glanced in your direction. You pushed past Yeonjun and quickly made your way out the back door of the house, unable to stand the humiliation for a moment longer.

Soobin arrived in the living room just in time to see you leave.

He wasted no time in rushing towards Yeonjun, grabbing hold of his arm. “Yeonjun, was that Y/N?” He asked, eyes quickly taking in the puddle of alcohol on the floor and the empty cup in Yeonjun’s hand. “What happened?”

“Nothing you need to worry your pretty blue head about, Big Choi. I just put her in her place is all.”

Soobin’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean you ‘put her in her place?’”

Yeonjun laughed, giving Soobin a nonchalant pat on the back. “Just drop it, would you? It has nothing to do with you.”

“What did you say, Yeonjun?”

Yeonjun was growing irritated now. He huffed out a breath, crossing his arms over his chest. “I said it has nothing to do with you, Soobin. I know you like to hang around people like that pothead Felix, but the rest of us live in the real world, where we’d rather not waste our time with those who have no future anyways. I bet he’s the one that got you to dye your hair that god awful blue, isn’t he?”

Soobin bit the inside of his cheek. He so badly wished to rip Yeonjun to shreds then and there. If he had Felix’s courage, the cocky bastard would have been knocked to the ground ages ago. But if there was one thing Soobin was sure he could never be, it was brave. And so, despite his rage, he remained silent, his eyes practically burning a hole through Yeonjun’s chest from how intently he was glaring.

It seemed as though Yeonjun was about to say something, but his eyes landed on the bit of red that peeked through the front pocket of Soobin’s denim jacket. Before Soobin had time to defend himself, Yeonjun had reached forward and snatched it from his pocket, revealing the large paper heart—his valentine for you.

“So this is why you care so much,” Yeonjun said, laughing as his eyes scanned the glittery words that decorated the page. “You want her to be your valentine.”

“Give that back,” Soobin said quietly, his hands beginning to shake.

Yeonjun instead lifted his eyes to Soobin, gave him a sickly sweet grin, and ripped the heart straight down the middle. He let the two pieces fall from his hands to the ground, and with them Soobin’s heart went also.

“You’re really willing to try and go against me, and for what? For the sake of a girl who can’t even afford a new pair of jeans and a boy that smokes his life away in the bathroom stalls?” Yeonjun took a slow step towards Soobin, his eyes glinting with a sinister determination. “You may be rich, Soobin, but if you choose to lower yourself to their standards, you may as well be dirt poor just like they are.”

With his hands clenched into tight fists, his glasses sliding down his nose, and his heart quite literally in two pieces on the floor below him, Soobin decided that he had had enough.

“I’d much rather be associated with people who are kind and have actual depth to their character than be lumped together with a bunch of pricks like you with no real personality—because that’s something you can’t buy with daddy’s paycheck.”

He had to physically restrain himself from slapping his hand across his own mouth in shock. It was as if the spirit of Felix himself had possessed him to say such harsh things. He wondered where Felix was then, wishing more than ever before to have his best friend by his side as he began to tremble from either the rush of adrenaline that coursed through his veins, or from fear. Or perhaps it was both.

He didn’t have time to ponder it any longer before Yeonjun’s fist collided with his nose, resulting in a sickening crack as pain echoed throughout his face in tidal waves.

He stumbled backward as people began to shout, raising his hand to his nose and gasping when he saw that his palm was covered in blood. 

Beomgyu had his arms wrapped around Yeonjun, who was desperately trying to lunge towards Soobin once again.

“Knock it off, Yeonjun!” Beomgyu shouted, pushing the elder back. “His dad is on the school board! Are you trying to get expelled?”

Beomgyu looked over his shoulder at the still stunned Soobin, who was gaping at the blood that now stained his once white turtleneck. 

“Get lost, Soobin,” Beomgyu said, to which Soobin only blinked in reply, his ears ringing.

“Now!”

Head spinning, Soobin picked up the two halves of his paper heart, stuffed them into his jeans, and stumbled out the same door he had seen you go through just minutes before. After checking to make sure his glasses were still intact—they were, thankfully—he shook his head in an effort to clear his mind of the static, eyes scanning the front lawn looking for any trace of you.

It didn’t take long for his eyes to spot you among the now dwindling crowd of partygoers. Your bright pink sweater stood out against the darkness, so he was able to recognize you even with your back towards him. He sniffed, wiping the back of his hand against his dripping nose as he slowly made his way to where you sat on the curb, your feet planted on the asphalt street. He wished that he looked a bit more presentable—when he played this scene out in his head over the years in which he would finally reunite with you, he never imagined himself dazed and covered in blood.

Desperate times called for desperate measures, he supposed.

When he reached you, he simply stood beside you in silence for a moment, unsure of what to say. He could tell that you sensed his presence, but you refused to look up at him as you kept your face buried in your hands. He could have sworn he heard a few muffled sobs slip through your fingers, but of course, he wasn’t going to bring that up.

Eventually he decided to slip his jacket off of his shoulders, leaning down to drape it over you. You still kept your head down as he sat beside you on the curb, but he watched you grip the jacket and pull it tighter around your body. He smiled a bit, holding the collar of his turtleneck against his throbbing nose.

“Thank you,” you muttered, wiping your hand across your eyes. You finally looked over at him, and when you did, you couldn’t hold back your gasp. “My God Soobin, what happened to your face?”

“Oh, well, I might have gotten punched,” He said quickly, trying to wave off your concern. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Punched? By who?”

He looked down at the ground, sniffing as a drop of blood hit the pavement. “Yeonjun,” he muttered under his breath.

“I’m sorry, did you just say Yeonjun? Are you insane? Why on earth would you butt heads with the Choi Yeonjun?”

Soobin didn’t say anything in response, he simply stared at you, eyes wide with beer dripping off the ends of your hair, makeup smeared across your face, your sweater stained down the front. It didn’t seem to take long for you to put the pieces together, as the shock left your face and was replaced with something akin to guilt.

“Oh,” You said, looking back down at your shoes.

“So she knows that I did it all for her,” Soobin thought.

For some reason, the idea of that both terrified and excited him.

A second later, he glanced over to see you ripping one of the hand-sewed patches of fabric off your jeans, leaving a square of your skin exposed to the chilly night air. You leaned towards him, pushing his hand away from his nose so you could use the patch to clean up some of the blood on and around his puffy red nose.

“Y/N, your pants!” He exclaimed, trying to push your hand away. “They’re ruined!”

“I’m not worried about my pants, you idiot,” You said, swatting his hand away as you continued to press the cloth against his skin. “You got punched in the face because of me, this is the least I could do.”

“That was my choice though,” He muttered, although he stopped trying to resist your touch. He ignored the way his heart thrummed harder in his chest, hoping that you couldn’t hear.

“Well, this is my choice too.” Your eyes flicked to his for a brief moment, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth. “Why did you do it, by the way?”

“Do what?”

“Stand up to Yeonjun for me and get a nasty nosebleed as a result.”

“Oh.” He blinked slowly, keeping his eyes fixed on yours. “Just ‘cause.”

“Because . . . ?”

“Because of you.” He blurted, causing your hand to go still against him. He swallowed his fear, braving the best smile that he could. “Just you. That was my only reason.”

You didn’t say anything as your hand fell from his face, the cloth clutched between your fingers. The anxiety he had tried his best to suppress came rushing up all at once, and he was surprised that his ears didn’t begin to squeal like a tea kettle from all the pressure. 

“Y/N,” He said, gently placing his hand over yours despite how his fingers trembled. “Why did you pull away from me?”

“What?”

“Four years ago. Why did you stop talking to me?”

You were quiet for a moment, digging into the ground with the toe of your sneaker. Soobin held his breath until you finally replied with, “I was afraid.”

“Afraid? Of what?”

“We were getting older, Binnie,” You said, and his heart skipped at the use of your old nickname for him. “You and I, we’re from very different walks of life. You get to hang out with people like Yeonjun, whereas I get a cup of beer poured all over my face just for existing, and you get a fist to the nose for trying to stand up for me. We’re from different sides of the track, one might say.”

“So?” Soobin asked, his hand tightening around yours. “Did you really think that would affect us that much, Y/N?”

You frowned, glancing down at his hand over yours.

“I thought you’d be embarrassed of me,” You said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Embarrassed?” Soobin’s eyes went wide as he gripped your hand tighter still, pulling it into his lap. “Y/N, I would never, ever be embarrassed of you. Besides, have you seen my best friend? He’s on a first name basis with the principal because of how often he gets written up for smoking behind the school. If I’m not embarrassed of him, why would I ever be embarrassed of you?”

You laughed, wiping the back of your hand across your eyes once more. “I guess I was worried about nothing, huh?” You sniffed, giving his hand a squeeze. “I’m sorry, Soobin.”

He shook his head, squeezing your hand right back. “Don’t apologize. You’re here now, that’s what matters. Do think we could—you know—”

“Pick up where we left off?” You smiled, nodding vigorously. “I’d like that very much, Binnie.”

He beamed then, almost pinching himself to be sure that he was not dreaming, but the pain in his nose was real enough to remind him of that on its own. He jumped to his feet, pulling you right up with him.

“In that case, how about we finally go on that Valentine’s date I had planned all the way back then?”

“Date?” You asked, a brow raised. “Is it really considered a date if two friends are just hanging out?”

He didn’t respond as he pulled you along behind him towards the bushes where he and Felix had hidden his bike. He crouched down and moved the branches aside, feeling his heart drop to his stomach when he realized that his bike was, in fact, no longer there.

He shot up, turning to face you with eyes wide. “Felix—that bastard took my bike!”

You were quiet for a moment, but then, you burst into boisterous laughter, leaving Soobin utterly confused.

“It’s not funny, Y/N!” He whined, shoving your shoulder lightly. “I was supposed to take you to the Dairy Shack on my bike!”

“It is funny,” You said between bursts of laughter. “Only you would get such a rusty old piece of metal stolen from you.”

He pushed his lips out in a pout, sliding his glasses up his sore nose. “It’s a good bike, don’t make fun of it.”

You grinned, interlocking his fingers with yours, which was enough to instantly wipe the pout right off his face. 

“Let’s just walk, Binnie. The Dairy Shack isn’t that far anyways.”

You were right; the walk to your favorite milkshake place was very close to the house where the party had occurred. Although Felix stealing his bike had thrown an obvious wrench in his plans, it was a minor hiccup, and one he could most definitely handle. Besides, he wouldn’t have to see Felix until the next day anyways. He could deal with his frustration then.

At least, that’s what he thought anyways, until the two of you spotted Felix at the skatepark on your way to the dairy shack.

Soobin’s eyes took in the deplorable sight before him—from where he stood on the dimly lit sidewalk, he could see Felix and a girl he had never seen before, their faces nearly pressed together, and most importantly, with his bike discarded a few yards away from them.

“Soobin,” You said, tugging on his arm. “They look like they’re busy, let’s just go—”

But Soobin, who had little patience when it came to Felix messing up his plans, didn’t let you finish before he screamed, “Give me back my freaking bike!”

You had to hold back your snort of laughter at his choice of words. Even when he was trying to sound angry, he was undeniably adorable.

Soobin watched as Felix startled, clutching his spliff between his fingers as he glared daggers back at his friend. Soobin gulped, trying not to let his fear show on his face. What did he have to be afraid of, anyways? He was the victim of thievery, and his best friend was the offender.

Felix took a big step towards him, but he paused, his eyes landing on your interlocked hands. Soobin glanced down as well, his face growing furiously warm as he realized the situation he had gotten himself into. 

He decided to divert the subject before it could even be brought up by saying, “I can’t believe you stole my bike! All this time I was trying to hide it from strangers, but you, my best friend! I should’ve been hiding it from you!”

Soobin noticed Felix’s female companion step off the skateboard and walk over in his direction, and for a second he felt bad for possibly ruining her night with his best friend. However, his frustration was more prominent in the moment as he fixed his gaze back on his best friend, who had fixed a mischievous smirk upon his face that made warning sirens blare in Soobin’s head right away.

“Now, now, buddy,” Felix said, his voice calm and carefree as ever. It probably had something to do with what he had just smoked, but Soobin didn’t care all that much. “You’re just gonna have to let me borrow it for a little longer.”

Soobin nearly laughed at the audacity of such a statement. “You are gonna give me the bike, or—”

“How about this, Soobs?” Soobin’s lips clamped shut at his friend’s interruption, as the thief in question gestured with his joint to where Soobin’s fingers were locked with yours. “You let me keep your bike for the night, and I don’t tell your dad about you hanging out with the opposite gender.”

Unable to control yourself, you let out a big laugh. Soobin would have felt betrayed, but he was more terrified than anything else at the idea of his father finding out that he was taking a girl out without his permission. He would be grounded for weeks—no, months.

“You wouldn’t.”

Felix’s lips curled up even more into a twisted grin that Soobin wished he had the guts to slap off his face. “God, just imagine the look on Mr. Choi’s face. Imagine him finding out about your premarital hand holding.”

No. Not the hand holding.

Soobin almost felt faint, but he steeled himself to the best of his abilities as he cleared his throat. “One night, Lix,” he warned. “If I don’t see it on my porch in the morning, you’ll be sorry!”

“Oh, I’m so scared,” Felix teased. His expression changed a moment later though, when he finally noticed Soobin’s swollen nose and blood-stained turtleneck. “Wait, Soobs, the hell happened to you?”

Soobin, however, had already taken his first steps away from the skatepark, pulling you along behind him. “I’ll tell you later, bud. Enjoy your spliff with that kind girl who you probably don’t deserve!”

“Hey!”

Soobin couldn’t help but laugh as he swung your interlocked hands together, grinning as you let out a laugh as well. The anger that had seeped through him seemed to melt away in an instant as the two of you continued your journey to the Dairy Shack.

“Would your dad really be that upset if he found out about this?” You asked.

Soobin grimaced. “We should probably wait til next year to tell him about this outing. Or maybe the year after that.”

When the two of you had finally reached the Dairy Shack, you waited outside for him while he went in to order your drink. A large chocolate milkshake, with two straws, just like you used to get every time before.

When he had the drink in hand, he walked back outside and sat down beside you on the curb, smiling as you wrapped his jacket tighter around your shoulders. You smiled back up at him, your eyes creasing from the expression. Your smile had always struck him right to his core; he had missed seeing it every day.

He hoped he could see it every morning and every night from that day onward. There was no way he would let you go this time.

He just had to muster up the courage to grab hold of you first.

“You know what, Binnie, you turned out to be a lot taller than I thought you ever would be,” you said as you took one of the straws from his hands. “You’re actually enormous. It’s shocking.”

“Should I find that offensive? It sounds kinda like an insult.”

“Take it however you will,” You teased, leaning over as he popped the plastic lid off the milkshake. He grabbed the cherry by the stem and held it towards you.

“What are you doing?” You asked, holding out your fist. “We have to rock, paper, scissors for it. Remember?”

Soobin laughed as he shook his head. “I’m giving it to you this time. It’s what I planned to do all those years ago, when I asked you to hang out on Valentine’s.”

You seemed to be taken aback, but you simply shrugged as you plucked the cherry from his hand and pulled it from the stem with your teeth, glancing back over at him. It was silent for a moment, but then your eyes landed on the pocket of his jeans, where you could see a bit of red paper poking out. You leaned over even further, reaching your hand out to snatch the paper.

“What are you—hey! Give that back!”

Soobin desperately tried to take his Valentine back from you, but it was too late. You held both halves of what used to be a whole in your hands, your eyes scanning the words as you pieced them together.

“Soobin . . .”

He held his breath. Had his act of young love left you completely speechless? Were you so touched that you would burst into tears?

“This looks like a middle schooler made it.”

He let out the breath in the form of a long, long sigh.

“That’s because it was made by a middle schooler,” He said as he set the milkshake down beside him. “I made it back in the eighth grade. I planned to give it to you that Valentine’s.”

“Oh.” You ran your finger along the card’s surface, the smallest smile creeping across your lips. “Well in that case, it’s not half bad. Why’s it ripped though?”

“Ah—well, Yeonjun . . .”

You nodded, taking another glance at his swollen nose. “No need to elaborate. It seems you had a lot planned for our Valentine’s Day back then. Is there anything else you wanted to do?”

His mouth went dry at that, and he wished that you couldn’t see his face because he was sure that his expression was quite comical. All the way back then, four years prior, he had in fact planned the perfect, ideal day in his head. Picking you up on his bike, giving you the cherry from his milkshake, and presenting you with his hand made card.

There was only one thing left on his list.

He didn’t move at first, willing himself to have enough courage to even look back in your direction. But when he finally did allow his eyes to meet yours, he felt his shoulders relax and his heart rate became more manageable.

He took a deep breath, leaned forward, and pressed his lips against your cheek.

He lingered there for only a moment before he pulled back, daring to pry one of his eyes open to take in the look on your face.

The disappointment was palpable—from the way your brows furrowed together and the way you pursed your lips. His stomach dropped, and he scooted the tiniest bit away from you.

“I’m sorry,” He blurt out, his face growing warmer by the second. “I shouldn’t have done that, I just—”

“Is that all?”

Your question stopped him mid-ramble, his eyes growing wide. “Huh?”

“Is that all?” You repeated, closing the distance between you that he had created. “It’s Valentine’s Day, Soobin. I think we can do better than a peck on the cheek.”

The implications of what you were saying didn’t register with him right away, but when it finally did, he could have sworn his heart began to beat loud enough for the entire town to hear. His hand curled into a fist as he gripped the denim of his jeans. He leaned forward, keeping his eyes open just enough to watch you as he brought his lips closer to yours. He could feel your eyes on him all the while, causing his heart to pound fiercer still within him.

When he was just a breath away, he whispered, “Can you close your eyes?”

“Hm?”

He lifted his hand, gently placing it over your eyes. He leaned closer then, filling the space between you both as his lips met yours. You tasted vaguely of cherry and strawberry slice soda, and he found it quite nice the way his lips seemed to fit perfectly against your own. As the seconds drew on, your hands slipped around his neck, pulling him closer. He slowly let his hand fall from your eyes, tracing lines with the tips of his fingers down your cheek before he cradled your jaw, letting his lips part just enough to taste the sweet sugar on your lips once more.

He thought in a haze that it was a good thing he didn’t drink anything at the party, as kissing you was proving to be intoxicating enough on its own.

When you finally pulled away, leaving your forehead resting against his, he let his eyes flutter open enough to see the euphoric smile that adorned your features. He grinned as well, gently running his thumb against your cheek.

“I think that back then, I had planned to ask you this before kissing you,” He whispered, “But Y/N, will you be my Valentine?”

Instead of a spoken answer, you laughed, leaning forward to capture his lips with yours once again, and that was the only answer Choi Soobin would ever need.

-

WHEN SOOBIN ARRIVED HOME THAT NIGHT, HE WENT STRAIGHT FOR THE TELEPHONE.

It was kept upstairs at night right outside his parent’s door, to keep himself and his brother from using it in the late hours. Of course, this never stopped Soobin from sneaking it downstairs to his room in the basement to make late night calls to Felix.

And that particular evening, he really needed to give Felix an update.

He grabbed the phone from the small table in the hallway, carefully tiptoeing towards the basement stairs. Before he had even taken the first step down, the bathroom door creaked open. Soobin whipped his head around to see his brother Kai standing there, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he raised a brow at his older brother.

Soobin froze, blinking slowly as he realized the incriminating situation he found himself in.

“Please don’t tell mom,” He whispered, his eyes pleading with his younger brother.

Kai nodded, although Soobin wasn’t quite convinced that the boy was even coherent enough to understand what was going on. Soobin offered a rushed thank you, and ventured his first step down the stairs.

Well, he tried, anyways, and ended up missing the first step. He tumbled down the rest of the stairs, landing on his butt at the very end.

He winced in pain, glad to see that the phone was still intact in his hands. He glanced over his shoulders to see Kai staring down the stairway with wide eyes, his lips parted in shock. Soobin quickly put a finger to his lips, begging his brother for silence.

Kai simply shook his head and walked away, allowing Soobin the freedom to breathe out a sigh of relief.

He quickly ran to his bedroom and shut the door, collapsing onto his bed with the phone as his breaths came in ragged gasps as an aftereffect from his tumble down the stairs. He figured he should have dialed Felix’s number right away, but he couldn’t help but brush his fingers against his lips, remembering the feeling and taste of having yours pressed against them.

He was so caught up in his daze that he didn’t notice Felix calling until the third ring.

He picked it up, breathing heavily into the speaker as he rubbed a sore spot on his lower back. 

“Please tell me that panting is from running a marathon, and not what I think you’ve successfully tried.”

Soobin nearly gagged, holding the phone away from his face as he coughed, flustered by his friend's crude words. He brought the phone back to his face and said, “No, you sicko, I just fell down the stairs.”

“How the hell did you manage that with those long legs?”

“That’s not important, Lix!” He laid back onto his pillows then, twirling the phone cord in his hands as he stared up at his ceiling, the memories of his adventure with you that night flooding his mind once more. He couldn’t help but smile from ear to ear as he said, “Look, I need to tell you something important.”

If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought that he could hear the smile in Felix’s voice too as his friend replied.

“Well buddy, I got something to tell you too.”

[heloisedaphnebrightmore]

Got no shame [Oliver Wood x Reader] - Challenge

Title: Got no shame Pairing: Oliver Wood x Female!Reader Word count: 2.5k Published: 27 May, 2021 Author: Heloise Daphne Brightmore Summary: [x] Being the daughter of the coach of Puddlemere United gives you the opportunity to get close to the players, some even more than others. When Oliver gets injured, you don’t even care about being friends or less or more, you just need to know if he is okay. Challenge: [x] [x] This is part of @iliveiloveiwrite 's writing challenge

Song inspiration: No shame by 5 Seconds of Summer

Bingo: [x] [x] This is part of my Band--Psychos 1.5k Followers Bingo Card by @band--psycho and my Make me feel Bingo Card by @girl-next-door-writes​​

Square filled: Rain [ @band--psycho ]

Square filled: Temporary amnesia [ @girl-next-door-writes ]

Harry Potter Characters Masterlist | Masterlists

Band--Psychos 1.5k Followers Bingo Masterlist

Make me feel Bingo Masterlist

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You have always been a big fan of quidditch, but unfortunately your abilities were never enough to become a professional. Luckily however, your father was the coach of the Puddlemere quidditch team. It was a daily occurrence for you to appear on their practice, overtime even becoming friends with some of the team members.

Benjy, the seeker of the team and Jocelind, one of the chasers quickly grew fond of you. Although your friendship started off on a rocky road. The two of them had a mission to tease you about their keeper, Oliver Wood’s crush on you. They thought his tries to catch your attention would be obvious to everyone, but it seemed you were the only one who couldn’t see it. Benjy and Jo made it their duty to remind you every single day how badly Oliver had fallen for you. Just like on that particular day, before one of their most important matches.

“Can you just stop?” You exhaled, pleading with the pair, the same subject repeating itself daily. Falling back onto one of the benches of the changing room, you heaved a heavy sigh, tired of their constant nagging.

“Sure, will you accept that Wood has a crush on you?” Benjy asked, teasingly wiggling his brows as he took a seat beside you, nudging your shoulder playfully.

“No! I will not! When he joined the team, he was this shy little boy, trying to adjust. He always talked to me, he always came to me for advice. If back then you said he had a crush on me, I might have believed you. But since then, he has become popular, girls and boys falling on their knees in front of him. I just can’t see it and I doubt out of all his choices I would be a contender,” you explained, sighing deeply.

“For Merlin’s sake,” Jo exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air, “each time he gives an autograph he is looking for your eyes, hoping for you to notice him. When the papers are taking photos of us, he looks like a meerkat trying to get your attention. How dumb can you be, woman?” She groaned as she folded her arms in front of her chest, shaking her head disapprovingly.

“You have had a crush on him for years, do something already,” Benjy added quickly before you could have replied. “Wood is my friend and I know him, he is mad for you.”

“Guys, please,” you pleaded, wanting to close the subject finally. “I would like nothing more than to believe you, but there’s no way Wood—,” before you could have continued, the entrance door of the changing room opened, a tall figure entering, his head covered under a hoodie, his clothes soaked, raindrops dripping to the floor.

“Oh, hi,” he lifted his head, revealing his identity. Pushing back his hoodie, you caught his dark eyes as he ran his hand across his short-cut, brown hair, his mere presence causing your cheeks to warm up. “You are early,” he added as none of you replied.

“Yeah, wanted to beat some sense into this woman,” Jo replied with a groan, clearly still annoyed by your blindness for Oliver’s feelings.

“Maybe I should beat some into you,” huffing, you crossed your arms in front of your chest, turning away from your friend’s gaze.

“Okay, why don’t we just take a deep breath and calm down?” Benjy interrupted.

“You clearly have something to discuss, should I leave?” Oliver asked as he looked around the three of you with a confused expression painted across his handsome face.

“Yes,” Jo replied, but you couldn’t handle another lecture.

“No,” you added, wanting to just stop them from nagging you any further.

“Well, that was helpful,” Oliver scoffed, trying to stop the little smirk from appearing in the corner of his lips. “So, which is it then?”

“No, because if you stay, it means they will quiet down finally and I need them to stop nagging me,” you replied as you stood up from the bench and headed towards the door. “Instead of getting on my nerves, you should start getting ready for the match,” you huffed in annoyance.

“As far as I’m concerned your father is our coach, not you,” Jo replied with gritted teeth.

“Indeed. But guess what, he would say the same,” you offered her a smug grin as you stepped out of the changing room, loudly shutting the door behind yourself.

As you headed to your father’s office, you heard loud footsteps following you. Turning around, you saw Oliver run after you, his clothes still drenched in water, but it didn’t stop him from coming after you. A soft smile appeared on your face as you patiently waited for him.

“Are you doing ground exercises?” You asked playfully as the boy finally halted beside you, trying to adjust his breathing.

“Very funny,” he scoffed, but you caught a tiny smile appearing in the corner of his lips. “I couldn’t stand the mood in the changing room. I have no idea what you have done, but Jo is quite pissed off,” he added, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck.

“Did they tell you what we argued about?” You asked, panic settling deep inside you as you realised Oliver might just know of your crush on him.

“Nah, they didn’t say anything, other than that you are being stubborn and blind for whatever reason,” he furrowed, the words without context making no sense to him.

“So, I’ve heard,” you grimaced as you started walking towards your father’s office once again.

“Wait, can I ask you what the argument was about?” He reached for your arm, wrapping his long fingers around your wrist. You turned back to look at him over your shoulder, his eyes holding curiosity.

“The person I like,” you replied, hoping for some sort of reaction from him.

“O— oh,” he breathed, somewhat disappointed as he let go of your wrist. The way he acted was certainly not what you expected and for a mere second you could see what Jo and Benjy were talking about. But a reasonable part of your brain quickly adjusted and decided to send you signals that reassured you it was probably just an involuntary reaction with no meaning behind it.

“Anyways, I will go and see my father. Maybe you should get ready,” you offered him a soft smile as you patted his shoulder and wished him good luck for the game.

As the match started, the rain was still pouring heavily, a batch of lightning struck on the ground, the players barely able to avoid them in time. You hid under your soaked hoodie as you cheered for the team, but deep down your stomach was in a knot, hoping for everyone to leave the game unscraped.

“Come on, Wood!” You shouted as the opponent flew towards his hoops, but luckily, he kicked the quaffle out of the way. His eyes looked for you for a good few seconds, before he caught sight of you and offered you a cheerful grin that you couldn’t stop from mirroring.

The match was rather aggressive, and the weather didn’t help the situation. Whilst you watched your friends fly around the pitch, their blue and yellow cloak following them in their route, a nervous feeling settled in you as a heavy rumble shook the area.

You stood up from the spectator stand and started heading down the stairs, wanting to feel closer to your friends. However, as you looked up, the next thing you saw was a blinding lighting that struck straight into the ground, sending none other than Oliver Wood off his position straight into the wall of the spectator stand across the pitch. A loud scream left your lungs, your heart beating in a dangerous pace as you watched his unconscious body fall towards the ground before someone slowed him down mid-air. Looking down at the benches, you saw your father with his wand in his hand pointing towards Oliver’s limp body, slowly placing him down on the fake grass.

As you started running down the stairs, you never felt more determined. You needed to see him, feel his pulse, check his body for injuries. It was driving you crazy how slowly your body moved before you finally caught sight of him surrounded by a couple of healers as they placed him on a stretcher. Almost feeling him in your grasp, you started running towards the injured boy, but before you could have caught up with the healers, two arms wrapped around you, pulling you back against a strong chest.

“He is going to be okay,” you heard your father’s voice, trying to sooth your worries away.

“Let me see him. Please, dad,” you replied, your voice weak and shaky. He turned you around and pulled you into a fatherly hug, just like the ones you received when you were little. As you finally started calming down, he leaned back and cupped your cheeks, removing the tear stains from your face that you didn’t even realise you had under the heavy rain.

“The healers will help him, but they will not let you in just yet, so take a deep breath, sit down with me on the bench and as soon as they signal for me, I will let you go. Sounds like a good plan?” He asked, hoping you would be able to think reasonably. After a heavy sigh you nodded, knowing that you couldn’t possibly do anything for him. You headed back towards the benches with your father and as they blew the whistle again, you listened to the game, but your mind was somewhere else, to be exact on the boy that the healers rushed away from you before you could even check on him.

It felt like eternity before your father placed a hand on your shoulder and nodded towards the exit of the pitch. Without a word or a thankful look, you started running after the healer that stood at the gate. When you arrived you greeted him and followed him diligently to the medical wing. The path felt like you’ve been walking for hours, even though it was only a couple of minutes. You were impatient, you wanted to see Oliver for yourself, making sure he was okay.

As you reached the medical wing and the large wooden doors opened, your eyes frantically searching for Oliver. As you caught his figure at the back of the room, you rushed up to him and sat down on the small stool beside his bed and took his hand in yours, squeezing it reassuringly. Although it was you who needed to be reassured that he was alright. His eyes started slowly flattering before he finally opened them, looking around the room in confusion, groaning as he turned his head.

“Stay put, Wood,” you instructed him as you pulled your stool closer. “How are you feeling? Are you in a lot of pain?” You bombarded him with questions.

“I’m fine. My head and my back hurts, but I’m okay,” a small smile spread across his face as he squeezed your hand.

“You scared me,” you scolded him as you slapped the back of his hand gently, making him chuckle lightly.

“I didn’t mean to,” he replied with an innocent expression, but a hidden smile in the corner of his lips. “What happened exactly? I’m kind of blurry on the details.”

“A lightning struck beside you and it sent you straight into one of the spectator walls. When you started falling dad slowed you down to stop you from getting any further injuries,” you explained with a deep frown across your brows and concern lacing your eyes. “It was horrible,” you added with a shaky breath as you played with his hand in yours.

“Hey,” he called out to you in a soft tone, lifting his other hand to cup your cheek. “I’m perfectly fine, just a few little bruises,” he tried to reassure you, but your worry was still clear across your face. “Hey, did I ever tell you that I love the way you're screaming my name?” He chuckled softly as you felt your face burn under his intense gaze. He knew he needed to avert your attention, wanting to sooth your worries.

“What?” You asked, stunned.

“The last thing I remember is your loud cheer as you screamed my name,” he smirked proudly, enjoying as you played with his hand in your embarrassed state.

“I cheer for everyone,” you added in a silent tone, trying to avert his suspicions.

“I wish you would cheer only for me,” he sighed as he looked away from you, his gaze now fixed on the ceiling. A confused expression sat across your face as you lifted your gaze and looked at him.

“What do you mean?” You asked, completely baffled by his reply. For a single moment you believed he meant more than he let on, but a reasonable part of your brain quickly shooed those thoughts away.

“I meant what I said,” he replied nonchalantly.

“I can’t just cheer for you. I have to cheer for the whole team so we can all win,” you explained with a confused frown across your brows.

“I know. And I know it’s wrong of me, but it makes me jealous,” he spoke with a soft grimace, earning a surprised gasp from you. “I honestly don’t know what else to do to get your attention. At this point I just got no shame. I shamelessly try to catch your eyes, but every time I feel like you are looking at me, you go and distance yourself,” he scoffed. Heaving a heavy sigh, he turned back to you. “Do you think you could ever look at me like a man and not someone who is part of your father’s quidditch team or a simple friend? Do you think you would be able to like me at one point?” He asked, his eyes desperately searching for confirmation, starting your heart off in a quick pace.

A tiny smile started spreading across your face before it grew into a large grin and a loud laughter erupted from your lungs, throwing your head back in the process. Oliver sat beside you, having mixed feelings about your reaction. “You fool,” you chuckled as your laughter started dying down. “You dumb man” you continued shaking your head as you stood up from your stool and leaned above his bed, cupping his face. “How could I not look at you as a man when I already do?” You giggled happily as you closed the gap between the two of you, capturing his lips with yours. For a moment both of you forgot where you were, you just enjoyed being closer to each other, before a healer appeared and loudly scolded you for your behaviour, forcing you to part as though you were still children.

“Well, that’s certainly not what I expected,” he chuckled playfully. “A couple more of these and I will feel brand new,” he grinned.

“I guess you will have to wait for that otherwise the healers will kick me out,” you giggled in content.

“Not happening,” he shook his head as he grabbed your arm and pulled you back to him, attaching his lips to yours halfway, earning a shaky moan from you. Luckily this time the healers didn’t catch you and within a couple of hours you were helping Oliver getting back to his flat.

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[we-love-imagines]

hi i don’t know if you’re taking requests right now, but based on your recent post about rohan and his stand and jotaro’s dating hcs, is there anyway that we could see a dating headcanons with rohan? please and thank you!

Of course my dear! Head Cannons are way faster to write than one-shots so I tried to get this one out quick for you! :)

Rohan Dating Hcs

~Rohan is certainly the type to scoff at his own feelings and set them aside, so he really has to like you to ask you out. He doesn’t fall fast either, preferring to date people he’s known for a while and letting his feelings grow over time. However, when he does finally acknowledge his feelings for you, he’ll embrace them in stride. He’ll be trying to impress you and show off his best self at every opportunity. As you two get closer and become an official couple, he’ll loosen up a bit, but your first few dates are very expensive and flashy.

~You become his sole confidant. If you thought Rohan was mean, his private thoughts are a whole lot meaner; after a long day out on the town, he’ll return to you with loads of gossip and sassy comments about his friends. Especially Josuke. He really feels like he can be his true self around you, and can rant and rave about whatever is on his mind with little judgement. You put him at ease.

~If you’re in a relationship with Rohan, you definitely influence his art in one way or another. While he’d enjoy it if you modeled for him- Hell, he’d probably use your likeness for a Pink Dark Boy character if you were okay with it- he’d also respect it if you didn’t want to. However, he’ll sketch you regardless. It may be that you’re always so close, or how the warm feelings he gets from you inspires him, but he can’t help but draw out your face from time to time. He loves seeing how flustered you get when he shows you the finished product. Of course, these would never be published without your permission, but part of him secretly wishes to. It’s some of his best work!

~If you’re an artist, I pray for you. He loves your art, of course, but he’s not one to hold back constructive criticism. While he’ll try to be nice about it, he can come off rather blunt and sound harsh. He’s also a bit of a backseat artist; if he sees you sketching, he’ll watch over your shoulder and critique as you go. It can get rather annoying at times, but at least his advice comes from a genuine desire to see you improve rather than malice. 

~Strangely, he’ll want to move pretty fast with you. With his extremely busy schedule, part of him knows the only real way for him to spend any substantial time with you is if you move in. So, if you’re up for it, expect to be moving your stuff into his house pretty early on in the relationship. To both your surprise and his, he really enjoys cute little domestic things: getting matching mugs, making dinner together, movie-night cuddles on the couch. Though, his undisputed favorite moment of domestic bliss is waking up next to you every morning, kissing your forehead while you sleep before he starts his day.

~He claims to not be one for lovey-dovey stuff like pet names or excessive kisses, but you can certainly convince him otherwise. While he is strictly against PDA, in private he can be very sweet. While he’ll usually call you by your name, you can squeeze out a “Dear” or “Darling” if he’s feeling especially affectionate. Rarely will he initiate affection unprompted, but on a good day, he’ll hug you from behind as you cook something and place chaste kisses to the side of your face. If you catch him on a very good day, he’ll shower you with all the love he can muster. 

~Despite that last point, he eats up your praise and affection like he’s a starved man. You can never do anything just once- if you kiss him while leaving for work, he’ll demand another. If you give him a hug before turning over in bed, he’ll insist you two cuddle. Don’t even get me started on compliments! Any off-handed praise you give him results in a, “Really? You mean that?” egging you on for more. Of course, he’ll act like he’s somewhat unfazed by your kind words, but it always makes his cheeks go pink and his heart beat a little bit faster.

~While he loves your praise, Rohan tends to hold back a little when it comes to verbal affection. He tends to show his love through quiet actions. But, when he’s in the mood to tell you how much he loves you, Rohan pulls out all the stops. Seeing as he’s a mangaka, he is very good with words, and knows just what to say to make your heart melt. 

~Somewhat bad at comforting you when you’re down. He knows you well enough to tell when you’ve had a rough day, but part of him is scared to approach you. He knows he can come off as rude sometimes and he doesn’t want to make it worse. So, he’ll silently make you a warm cup of tea, have something sweet waiting for you in your room- and retreat into his studio. Of course, if you’re extremely upset and crying your eyes out he’ll be there to cuddle you and cheer you up. But on just kinda-crappy days? Yeah, he’s doing the minimum.

~Rohan vows to never use Heaven’s Door on you, unless you ask him to or it’s an emergency. He’s ignored people’s boundaries in the past by using it, and he knows how pushing said boundary might ruin his relationship. While sometimes his anxiety tempts him to take a peek- to check if you’re thinking of leaving him or if you haven’t been loyal- he always stops himself. He doesn’t want to lose you, and that level of privacy invasion is too much for healthy relationship. Though his nerves may flare at times, he trusts you.

~Speaking of nerves, Rohan is always a little afraid his partner would cheat on him. He’s an extremely busy man, and sometimes it feels like he never leaves his studio. It’s easy to feel a little neglected from time to time. So, he fears that you leave when you know he’ll be working for hours, sneaking off to meet with someone else. While you assure him that this isn’t the case, he still gets jealous from time to time when he sees you being a little too nice to others.

~While he can be a tad prickly, Rohan is whipped for you, and he wouldn’t have it any other way!