#bc when i got out with a tiny wound that was bleeding but was clean from the water | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

peaches-writes · 4 years ago

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penalty kick

description: maybe you got off on the wrong foot...actually, jisung did actually pushed you off the wrong foot. member: jisung / han genre: fluff, slice of life, coming of age, childhood frenemies / rivals to lovers au, idiots to lovers au, neighbor au, high school au, college au, lil dashes of soccer baseball musician & campus dj au bc jisung ace, female reader, off-season universe (mc from naturally is jeoyeon, mc from tumbles & turns is bora, and mc from off-season is kira hek) word count: 12k warnings: explicit language, alcohol (a tiny mention of underage drinking pls drink responsibly!), mentions of injuries, jisung issa lil dumb & a lil shit but issokay hes an adorable lil shit note: @crscendoforsung so i scraped the witch jisung au (but i’ll come back to it in the future maybe it’s still in my drafts lol) so here is dumbass jisung for now + im away on christmas day so here’s my gift a day in advanced lmao

Age four. Your neighbor and favorite playmate, Han Jisung, pushed you so hard on the swings at your neighbourhood playground that you literally flew out of your plastic curved seat and bruised your knees, elbows, and chin.

Maybe you did had it coming from continuously complaining that he ‘pushed like a sissy’ and even standing up on the swing set just to brag that you can balance all of your body weight on such flimsy material. Maybe your neighbor has always had a secret grudge on you finally enacted through this incident. Either way, the next thing you knew, a wide-eyed Jisung was on your side alternating between calling for adult help, crying over your bruises, and muttering curses he probably heard from his older brother under his breath.

“Shit, shit shit...” He squeaked out frantically in his tiny voice, gently moving you to a sitting position on the stone pavement and dusting the dirt off of your bleeding injuries despite your loud complaints that your entire body was hurting. Looking around your surroundings, his breath then got caught up in his throat at seeing your mother fast-approaching with a mix of furious and worried in her expression. “Auntie! Help!”

Your mother was hovering over you in an instant, examining your bruises with furrowed brows and clenched teeth. “Ah, dear God, what happened here?!” She exclaimed in a scolding tone, piercing gaze darting between your tearful eyes and Jisung’s panicked ones. “Jisung, did you do this?”

“It was an accident auntie!” The boy in question answered immediately as he shook his head nervously and scooted away with his hands up in defense. “It was an accident, I promise!”

However, with your back turned to him then, you naturally had a different impression of the incident as you quickly retorted, “He pushed me, mommy! He pushed me off of the swing!”

Your mother never made any clear indication that she believed you as she simply shook your head and lifted you by your shoulders and knees, carrying you to a nearby bench to treat your wounds.

Angered by your outburst, Jisung reluctantly followed you and your mother to the bench then glared at you until your injuries were cleaned and bandaged. With his arms crossed and a permanent frown bordering a pout on his lips, he stood next to you in his attempt at looking visibly angry for a puny five-year-old while you hissed and whined in pain the entire time.

What’s worse is that his own mother made him apologize by sending him off to the nearest convenience store to buy you apple juice and steamed buns. Because of this, you’ve been mortal enemies, rivals, each other’s designated future potential killer, whatever you want to call it ever since.

Age seven. Han Jisung helped perpetuate a wild rumour that you and the rest of the class’ female population had ‘cooties.’

It’s only natural for boys at this age to gravitate to similar actions, of course. After all, you’ve heard worse from boys in the other classes (read: Hwang Hyunjin crying and demanding to get sent home because a girl kissed him on the cheek on the first day of classes). It’s the fact that Jisung actually seemed to have to believed it for a brief period of time in your first grade, however, that completely threw you off.

He pulled on your braids during the time he sat behind you and kicked your shins while in line for P.E. class to ‘test your anger patience’ that was apparently fueled by cooties and occasionally stole your snacks for actual ‘DNA evidence’ of said cooties among other petty little things. It was nothing short of annoying and the very bane of your existence then.

“Han Jisung cut it out!” You yelled at him one day, hitting him on the shoulder with the curved end of your wooden broom during after-class cleaning time. In this particular incident, the boy managed to swiftly take one of your pigtails out while wiping the windows in an attempt to ‘examine’ the DNA in your hair.

“What?!” He snickered, taking a big step away from you and lifting up the blue scrunchie to examine it for miniscule strands of loose hair. “It’s for research!”

You groaned in annoyance, reaching forward to retrieve the scrunchie with one hand while the other instinctively ran through the messed up half of your hair. “Jisung, give it back, you weirdo!” You scolded through gritted teeth, rolling your eyes when he shakes his head stubbornly and takes another step back from your reach.

“Tell me the secret first!”

“Secret of what?!”

“Do you girls actually have cooties?” He quirked a genuinely suspicious eyebrow at you, raising the scrunchie above your heads after when you proceed lunge forward at him. “Does it actually make you guys this irritable all the time?”

Somehow, the questions struck some kind of nerve in you. You were tired from classes, cleaning, and having to put up with Jisung’s childish antics. Maybe 1st grade girls did have cooties but for tapping into unbridled anger. “I’m going to kill you!” With the broom in your hands and the dust pan you snatched from his in retaliation, you then proceeded on repeatedly hitting Jisung in the forearms and shoulders until he surrendered with his arms protectively over his head and your scrunchie finally within reach.

He also offered to fix your pigtail back for you but given the amount of distrust you already had for him, you simply smacked him one last time and went to the other end of the room to fix your hair.

Age nine. Maturing a little bit through summer camps and classes, you and Jisung redirected all of your energy from physical violence to outsmarting each other in class.

It started in English class when Mrs. Lee introduced the idea of recitations garnering students points and a fancy award at the end of the school year. Coming from the same piano class in the summer prior wherein you and Jisung also competed for your instructor’s attention, the two of you were quick to consider this as another one of your competitions.

You devoted most of your time to studying the lesson from the what’s, who’s, when’s, and where’s while Jisung thought that focusing more on the deeper why’s and how’s would somehow garner him better points no matter how many times Mrs. Lee reiterated that all recitation points are given in 1 point’s.

As the school year progressed, especially after the first semester report cards came out and the two of you were tied to first place in English to the very third decimal, the academic rivalry immediately extended to competing for the most amount of extra-curricular activities. You were more favored with the way you handled baby animals at the local shelter and competed in debates and quiz bees while Jisung was mainly noticed by the soccer and baseball coaches and the school choir’s moderator for his skills in sports and music.

Jisung’s mom, who always picked the two of you up from school in her minivan, obliviously thought it was cute.

“You know, instead of competing over everything all the time, you guys can take some notes from each other.” She pointed out one time after hearing your comment on Jisung ‘smelling like a polluted Pacific Ocean’ as he climbed in the backseat of the car. The sentiment almost went in one ear and came out of the other with the two of you, however, as Jisung proceeded on complaining that you smelled like ‘Cruella de Vil’s fake fur coat’ then hitting you on the head with his soccer ball. “Especially you, Sungie. You can learn a thing or two of keeping a goldfish alive for more than a week from Y/N.”

You laughed at Jisung’s immediate shocked reaction of wide eyes and gaping mouth at this, slapping his arm in amusement and toppling over the backseat in laughter. “Yeah, Sungie, you really need help from that department.” You stuck your tongue out at him teasingly, laughing even more when he groans and hits you back with a light punch to your own arm.

“Stop it.” He hissed at you before turning to his mother again, meeting her gaze through the rear view mirror. “Mom! You’re supposed to be on my side!”

Mrs. Han was also stifling her own laughs then, forcing herself to focus on the road ahead instead of checking for her son’s pouting expression and crossed arms through the mirror. “Okay, okay.” She chuckled playfully with a dismissive hand, catching your eye after with a giggle. “Y/N, you should learn how to commit to exercise more with Jisung, then. There? Happy?”

Satisfied, Jisung stuck his tongue out childishly at you as if completely forgetting the fact that he was attacked by his own mother first. “Bleh!”

You rolled your eyes at him with a light-hearted scoff of your own, laughing away the way he proceeded to exaggeratedly tease you. “You’re so childish, Sung.”

When your moms did seriously consider this idea later on, you were then forced to dedicated one weekend to taking each other to your respective extra-curricular activities. It was right before your final examinations and Jisung ended up getting scared over a golden retriever giving birth while you received severe cramps from the elementary soccer team’s rigorous conditioning training.

It was a recipe of disaster, basically, and it ultimately led you and Jisung to cram knowledge for your exams on Sunday night in his bedroom. When you stubbornly didn’t learn anything from going to each other’s favorite extra-curriculars, you unconsciously ended up learning from each other in the six hours you both stayed up trying to review your notes. Miraculously (as in the miracle of hot brewed Milo-induced sugar rushes), it went well and the two of you tied or were close in grades at the second release of report cards.

The only downside of it all was just the fact that the fancy recitation award in your English class that started it all somehow went to Hyunjin.

“Ah, this is so frustrating!” You exclaimed on the ride home from school. You had your report card in your hands like Jisung, looking back on it all the while stressing out about Hyunjin winning the award the two of you spent a whole school year competing for.

On the other side of his mom’s backseats, Jisung then turned to you and suggested, “Want to prank him? We’re playing soccer next week, you can swap his Cola for soy sauce.”

You glanced over at Jisung, your pout slowly turning into a mischievous grin at his raised brows. “You’re onto something...”

Age ten. You went on your first class field trip with a stuffed purple lunch bag of snacks.

Your mother specifically suggested that you share it with Jisung, thinking that the two of you would sit next to each other on the bus since he’s your only classmate she’s actually familiar with. But of course, when Jisung didn’t bring up any hints that he knew of this while waiting for the school bus to arrive, you immediately thought against it and planned out how you were going to hide your seemingly endless supply of snacks from him on the back-and-forth rides to Namsan Tower.

It was a well thought-out plan involving sitting near to the front and as far away from him as possible with your own group of friends then hiding the lunch bag under your seat until you caught Hyunjin not-so-discreetly trying to steal from you while he re-checked attendance after a stop-over.

“Jisung put you up to this, didn’t he?” You frowned, candy successfully retrieved from Hyunjin’s prying hands and popped into your mouth as the lanky boy scratched the back of his head in shame. “It’s okay, Hyunjin, I won’t kill you. It’s Jisung’s corpse I’m planning to roll down Namsan if he’s actually behind this.”

After a few more coaxing, Hyunjin eventually nodded sheepishly and admitted to Jisung convincing him to take a candy bar from you.

“Ya! Hyunjin!” Jisung whined from across the bus, peeking his head up from the identical red seats with balled up fists. “I told you not to rat me out!”

“Y/N was being scary!” Hyunjin argues back, sprinting back to his seat as soon as the the bus stopped at a streetlight. Hiding under the sea of seats, he then exclaimed, “You two take me out of your fights! Geez!”

Jisung pouted at you as soon as you lifted your own head up from your seat and turned around to face him, holding his hands out in front of him and then asking, “Can’t I really have candy?”

You shook your head stubbornly. “If I give you one, everyone’s going to ask me for it too.”

“But everyone’s basically asleep!”

“They could be fake-sleeping for all I know!” You hissed, popping another ball of candy in your mouth. “I don’t trust anyone in this class with food but myself.”

“Y/N!” He whined, only to get pulled down by force when the bus abruptly begins moving again. Scrambling up right after, he then continued pleading, “Please?”

“No.” You firmly concluded, sitting back down on your seat.

Jisung even tried staying behind to try and steal candy off of you while the entire class was piling outside to enter Namsan Tower, only to trip in surprise when you jumped on him from crouching under the seats. Poor boy almost hit his head on the seats in shock.

“I knew you’d pull this kind of shit.” You tsked in disapproval with a slight stutter towards cursing at such an age, smacking him over the head anyway before throwing the smallest piece of chocolate candy you had from your bag. Moving past him to the bus exit, you then added, “You don’t even do nice things for me.”

You only meant it half-heartedly, though. Whether Jisung actually wanted more candy or he did sincerely felt bad over what you said, either way, he paid for the expensive pink lock you and your friend wanted to hang at the very top of the tower later on but only if you promised to share your snacks.

Jisung received three packets of gummy bears and a bottle of banana milk from you in the end on the ride home.

Age twelve. The Hans temporarily moved to Malaysia in the summer before the seventh grade because of an assignment for Jisung’s father at work.

On the day before their flight, Mr. and Mrs. Han organized a farewell party in their house at the other end of the block and invited your entire class. Jisung tricked you into getting him a farewell present by telling you that everyone was planning to do the same thing as a surprise but he secretly found out thing.

He didn’t actually expect you to get him something, not with the way the two of you have always been at each other’s necks since you were kids, but you ended up surprising him in the middle of the lunch party by giving him a small notebook of useful Malaysian phrases you wrote down yourself. You don’t always agree with Jisung but you think of yourself as thoughtful and civil enough to buy something practical. Also, your parents insisted.

“O-Oh, you actually got me something?” He fumbled through an intense blush that matched the redness of his Supreme cap, almost tripping over nothing as you both stood on the steps leading down to the back of his house. It didn’t help that a few classmate passersby were glancing your way as well, either cooing or snickering at the awkward sight in the corner of all the socialization. “L-Like—like, this is actually for me?”

You raised a brow in confusion and reluctantly shrugged, releasing the red phrasebook from your grip as he held onto it by the other end. “Yeah, you said you’re getting presents so I...got you one.”

“I actually lied—“

“What?!” You exclaimed a little too loudly for your taste, earning you a sharp glare from your mother all the way across the backyard. Mouthing a quick apology to your her, you then quickly averted your glare back to Jisung who instinctively resorted to looking at anywhere but you. “But you said—“

“I thought for sure that no one would give me any farewell presents since it’s not a birthday or anything but I know you would if you’re like forced to or something so I thought...hehe...” He mustered up a sheepish grin, pressing his index fingers together in a comical shy gesture. When your glare intensifies, he then immediately held his hands up in defense and visibly winced, “Ya, don’t hit me!”

Every fiber in your being really wanted to hit him with the notebook then, maybe even push him down the stairs while no one was looking, but after a moment of thinking your way out of such violent thoughts, you resorted to exhaling a sigh and saying, “Whatever, just keep the notebook or something. I don’t care. It’s not expensive, anyway.”

You chanted to yourself that you’re mature, especially as Jisung’s eyes lit up and he immediately thanked you for both the gift and sparing his life that day.

Though he didn’t hear the end of the other teasing from Hyunjin after that, Jisung kept the notebook around anyway throughout his entire two-year stay in Malaysia. It was helpful but he’ll never admit that to your face.

“You kept it.” You pointed out one day, more as a statement than a question as you realized that the notebook he was using for exam reviewer notes was in the same color as the phrasebook you gave him. When Jisung came back in the summer before the ninth grade, the two of you met again in the same cram school wherein mostly everyone but you and the transfer student, Kim Seungmin, refused to help him keep up with the heavier than usual workload. “The phrasebook...”

“Yeah—well, I didn’t want to waste any of the pages you didn’t write on.” He pouted stubbornly as he flipped through the older pages to compare the amount of pages you used to the empty sheets. His tone actually sounded like he was convincing himself much more than he was trying with you but you missed it complete in the moment. “Be more eco-friendly, Y/N.”

You simply rolled your eyes at him. “Glad to know I kept you alive in another country somehow, then.”

Age fourteen. You went to a soccer game to see Jisung but only because one of your friends, Eunha, developed a crush on the striker and eventually hatched a plan to confess on the game before Valentine’s Day. Fortunately, Jisung barely noticed and didn’t tease you for it since it’s already an established fact that you’re always at his games with either Yang Jeongin or Seungmin to cheer on Hyunjin instead.

You really didn’t get it. Of course, fifteen was the time when some, if not all, parts of your day were starting to become dedicated to vanity and all the artificial things in life to attract kind of puppy love in school but at this point Jisung always wore the same green hoodie, red Supreme cap, and white ‘Eyez on You’ shirt to every school function that didn’t require wearing a uniform.

You understood how your classmates suddenly began fawning over Hyunjin right after the summer when he got his braces removed and then Seungmin for bringing a suit and tie one time for an inter-school debate but the hype over Jisung suddenly bringing in his guitar to class breaks everyday and re-emerging as a star soccer and baseball player throughout the school year is an absolute mystery to you. That or, maybe compared to your junior high peers, you’re just as used to him at this point than they all are. In your perspective, the only legitimate thing he has going on is how he always seems to beat you in most Arts subjects and how annoying it is that he always makes sure to rub that in your face.

“I’m pretty sure he still doesn’t shower properly right after training.” You shook your head disapprovingly at Eunha during the game. Soccer is an interesting sport for surprisingly bringing you up to stand and cheer at some moments, you’ll give it that, but watching Jisung get cocky and interact to the crowd whenever his team scored a point was somehow cringe-worthy to watch. “And I’m so sure he still doesn’t clean that soccer ball of his right after practice. You deserve better, sis.”

But no matter how much you talked shit about him throughout the entire game, Eunha still held onto the box of handmade candies she coerced you into picking up from Jisung’s favorite candy shop on the weekend prior and cheering him on with the slogan she made herself. It would’ve looked cute and sweet to you if it was some other guy but it’s Jisung—the guy who pushed you off a swing, pulled your hair, stole candy from you, and made all of your elementary after-school rides home an actual rollercoaster—and you would never wish his treatment of you to any other person ever.

“You said that was in elementary, Y/N.” Eunha chuckled softly, nudging your elbow before a sour expression could completely overtake your face. “Surely he’s outgrown that girls have cooties phase every boy had then.”

“No, it’s Jisung and I refuse to believe it.”

You really didn’t want to believe it with your natural instinct to see Jisung as the bane of your existence. What’s worse is that Eunha was right and Jisung shyly accepted the Saturday movie date at the mall that she came up with on the spot when he surprisingly received the candies well, a complete stretch from the Jisung who would’ve lied about being busy or tricked your friend into doing something else altogether. Suddenly, it was selfishly annoying that you’re the only one he actually tortures the life out of.

“Told you.” Eunha giggled throughout the drive back to your house. Your mother picked you up from school right after the soccer game for a sleepover you insisted was a must whether or not your friend scored her Valentine’s Day date. “Ah, I’m glad he accepted. I was a nervous wreck there! You don’t happen to know what kind of movie he likes, do you?”

You never heard the end of it from her for the remainder of the semester. The two were never official—middle school just didn’t have that solid idea of significant others, then—but they did went on numerous ‘dates’ almost every weekend that followed Valentine’s Day. Naturally, Eunha would tell you all about it.

“He’s so sweet and caring and thoughtful!” The girl endlessly gushed out to you so genuinely you would’ve been happy had you not been sincerely expecting a major fuck-up from Jisung. Nothing romantic really did come out of these dates, even Jisung surprisingly swears by it, but they did become really close friends after and as Jisung’s only other female friend at the time, you can clearly see a point of comparison between his different treatment of you. “Though, I’m gonna give it to you that he is annoying sometimes but he does know a lot of good places to hang out around town for someone who’s been away for two years!”

“He does the bare minimum for everything, Eunha. I could barely call it sweet.” You scoffed unamused.

Age sixteen. In the summer after the tenth grade, an upperclassman from school by the name of Lee Minho started volunteering at the same local shelter you’ve been under since elementary after surrendering a lost cat to you while he and Jisung were playing baseball at the nearby park.

He adopted Dori in the end but prior to finalizing the adoption papers, he actually made the effort to come in at your MWF schedule to help around and see the dark grey kitten. To you, it was endearing and thoughtful since you didn’t have much active co-workers at the shelter your age but to Jisung, it was slightly inconveniencing how Minho would cut off their play-time to see the cat. He even thought Minho had a crush on you and vice versa but you knew that Minho liked one of his own closer friends.

“Jeoyeon?” Minho scoffed, crouching down next to you one time as you watched over the new litterbox of kittens eating with Dori on your feet. Crossing his arms over his knees, he shook his head and chuckled, “They’re cool and we’ve been friends for a long time but I’m sure they have a big fat crush on Bang Chan. Something happened after their McDonald’s date after our prom, I’m telling you!”

“No, not Jeoyeon! I meant Bora!” You argued back with a laugh, picking up a white kitten that wanders off to your feet and lifts its body up cutely for a lift. Gingerly pressing the kitten to your shoulder, you then turned to Minho and continued, “The one who came by the other day to see Dori with you. Aren’t you guys rooming together in college?”

Minho clutched his chest dramatically at this, shaking his head with a comical conviction. “What?! How could you accuse me of that, Y/N? Bora’s from a different cheerdance team! That would be like sleeping with the enemy!”

You rolled your eyes, knocking him off of his balance by elbowing his sides. “Ya, I didn’t say that, you did!” You scoffed at him, sighing when he laughs off landing on his butt before sitting up in a crisscross position. “Anyway, don’t you like her?”

“If I don’t like her, we wouldn’t be making all these plans to move in together for college, stupid.” Minho snickered, earning him another elbow jab from you. “Well, what do you want me to say? You asked me if I like her, you didn’t ask me how exactly I like her.”

"Okay then, you wise wise person: how do you like Bora?” You sighed dryly, plopping down on the ground at feeling your ankles starting to ache from crouching. The kitten on your arm then jumped down to your lap, circling your legs a few times before finding a comfortable position to sleep in. “You know, the more you visit here with this kind of sarcasm, the more I’m starting to understand where Seungmin and Jisung are suddenly getting all of their newfound sassiness from.”

Minho chuckled next to you, picking up Dori for himself once he saw him finish eating before hugging the kitten gently to his cheek. “Bora’s...someone I’d probably punch a guy in the team for if they ever disrespect her. I mean, I’d punch a guy for Dahyun, Jeoyeon, and Jihyo, too, of course, but Bora’s in the same sport where she’s always getting lifted in the air and touched by who knows who and now that we won’t be in the same team, I feel even more responsible for keeping an eye out for her.” He shrugged casually, ignoring the way your jaw just dropped at how naturally he explained himself. “Plus, it took a lot of convincing to get her to be my roommate so I can’t really have her dying under my care in the next four years.”

“I—” You furrowed your brows in thought, pursing your lips in a pout. “Wow, I’m jealous.”

“Then get on my good side, Y/N.” Minho winked with a laugh, holding Dori in front of you. “Let me take this baby home at the end of the summer.”

You rolled your eyes again at this, shaking your head. “No, I mean...I hang out with Jeongin, Hyunjin, Seungmin, and Jisung and they aren’t really the most well-versed boys on treating girls properly.”

“That’s why you hang out with me. We all know that Hyunjin just can’t say no to anyone who offers him a slightly more expensive bouquet of flowers, Seungmin’s in a relationship with baseball and academics, and Jisung...Jisung’s just dumb in general.” Minho then pointed out with a somehow knowing tone, smirking when a familiar figure passes by the hallways right behind you. “Speaking of...”

Jisung joined you and Minho after, making sure to sit in between the two of you and drowning himself in as many kittens who wanted to sit on his lap as much as he can. “Dude, you shouldn’t have left early!” He scolded Minho with a pout and a slightly breathless tone from running all the way from the park. “Seungmin joined us today and he completely wiped out Sunwoo’s team!”

“Then even more reasons to come here early so you guys could play with Seungmin on your team.” Minho laughed, gently handing Dori over to you from across Jisung before standing up and dusting the lint off of his jeans. “Y/N needed help with feeding the cats and puppies today, anyway.”

Jisung frowned, turning to you after and asking, “Don’t you have any other co-workers around here?”

“Jeno has allergies so I don’t let him in here on most days.” You shrugged, handing Minho the empty pet bowls nearest to you as he proceeded to clean and collect them. “I can do it myself, you know. It’s just that Minho comes over and insists.”

“Then you should’ve just told him that so we can play longer.”

“Why is it a big deal? Do you like Minho?”

“Do you?” Jisung’s eyes widened, almost getting scratched by a random cat in the process. “Because...because that’d be gross, to be honest...”

At this moment, your eyes accidentally met Minho’s right behind Jisung and the older boy had the audacity to wink at you before sprinting out of the room with a thumbs up above his head.

In the end, you shrugged and answered, “I like him.”

“What?!” Jisung sat up so quickly he almost scared a bunch of kittens walking all over his chest into jumping away.

“I’d be a psychopath if I don’t like him but let him volunteer around here, dumbass.” You deadpanned, moving the kittens around him to a safer space on the floor. “Besides, you asked me if I like him, not how I like him.”

“What the fuck does that even mean?”

Minho had a whole laugh out of eavesdropping from this conversation that he felt bad and actually adjusted his schedule for volunteering and playing soccer better so ‘Jisung would have one less thing to whine about all the time.’

Age seventeen. You and Jisung tried convincing your respective parents that going to prom as a group is the more practical and actually trendy thing to do but your mothers wouldn’t have it. Ultimately, the two of you ended up lying that you’re going as each other’s dates.

You initially planned on begging to Seungmin until he pulled up balloons, roses, and a song number to his lab partner right on the lunch break that you planned on doing it and, of course, you had enough dignity to not fall in line with the countless of students that basically worshipped Hyunjin’s locker as if it were a shrine.

Jisung, with Eunha already set on going with someone else she started dating at the beginning of the 11th grade school year, was the convenient choice. Your parents knew each other, he knows someone (his older brother) who can drive, and he’s recently gotten over his Emo-Hypebeast wardrobe phase after joining the school’s radio club with Chan and Changbin. With some convincing (read: an elaborate PowerPoint Presentation he made you do on the spot during one of your lunch breaks), the two of you decided that you would take all the photos your respective mothers wanted, carpool to the hotel, then go on your separate ways until his brother picks the two of you up at the end of the night.

It was a simple and fool-proof plan, one that you almost forgot when you rented an emerald green and gold prom attire then Jisung’s mother told you right after about hearing her son trying to order a purple callalily boutonniere that clearly did not match your taste nor your colors (you sorted this out by cancelling the order and taking matters into your own hands). Then, the most awkward photo op at your house happened.

“Sungie, put your arm around Y/N!”

“Y/N, stop slouching, you’re going to wrinkle your outfit!”

You were never serious-looking in any photos that had Jisung in it as well, preferring to pose like the two of you planned on murdering each other right after the photos instead, but your respective moms were holding your Instax camera and the family film cameras across the living room in this particular situation and so you reluctantly kept it inside. Straightening up your shoulders and elbowing Jisung to at least wrap an arm over your shoulder, you held up smiles right next to your red rose corsage and boutonniere set until the two women were eventually satisfied with their photos.

“Aah, you two really make a cute couple!”

“Mom, we’re not a couple!” Jisung whined, glaring at you after which you immediately returned with the same expression.

“God, I’d sell all my limbs first before we actually become a couple.” You deadpanned back at him.

Fortunately, Jisung’s older brother allowed the two of you to basically try and throw each other out of the car windows on the thirty-minute ride to the hotel venue in compensation. You almost had him by the neck and he almost ruined your hair that you spent hours curling until Hyunjin pulled you back with a smack to your head and dragged the two of you away to help in the Prom Committee’s final preparations since Jisung was going to perform with Changbin and you were a part of the Prom’s Logistics team.

You mostly stayed out of each other’s hairs for most of the first part of the program as you were busy pulling everything together while Jisung was having the time of his life with the soccer and basebal teams. The next time you bumped into each other, you scolded him for running late to his and Changbin’s set after dinner.

“Where were you?!” You mostly hit him in the back with your clipboard, frantically passing him his already set up electric guitar and a microphone. First, one of your peers got drunk too early in the dinner to help out in the program, then one of the event’s award sashes briefly went missing and, not to mention, a lot of the people from the other committees somehow forgot about their event tasks when you asked in the main groupchat. You really weren’t having anyone’s antics at this point. “Geez, we already practiced this!”

“Ow, ow, ow! Stop hitting me! Why are you so on edge?” Appropriately, he whined in complaint and took a step back after receiving his equipment, holding his hands up in defense as he always does. “Cut me some slack, Y/N! It’s prom!”

“You’re so late when your table is literally right next to the side of the stage!”

“I was dancing with everyone else! You wouldn’t know since you wouldn’t even take a break!”

“Because I’m busy!”

“No, you’re just being more irritable than usual!”

“Fuck you, Han Jisung.” You rolled your eyes with an exasperated sigh, coldly directing him to the stage. “You’re on, get on the stage.”

You knew he didn’t mean it cruelly, especially when his pupils started to shake and his shoulders instinctively slumped as he glanced back at you right before reluctantly stepping up the star-filled stage, but you were too tired of having to run around and making the event perfect for most of the night to process anything, much less his usual jabs at you. Being in such a tired headspace, you couldn’t enjoy his songs no matter how undeniably great they were, much less meet his eyes when you knew how he kept glancing at you throughout the entire set.

He even covered your favorite song on the spot (which surprised Changbin and had Hyunjin running around backstage to inform everyone of the sudden extension) but you already sat down on your shared table with Hyunjin, Seungmin, Eunha, and their dates before he could even begin singing the chorus.

“Hey, you good?” Minjung, Eunha’s date, asked you with an offering of an extra shawl to cover your exposed shoulders from the nearby air-conditioning unit. Eunha had previously left to go to the bathroom after stopping by your shared table. “Y/N, I told you if you needed extra help with the program, you could’ve just told us. We just planned on dancing tonight, anyway.”

“I’m good.” You grumbled in a half-lie, resting your chin on your propped up hand tiredly, mumbling a small ‘thank you’ for the shawl as you fought away your tiredness. “I think I’ll just sit the rest of Prom out. Hyunjin can run the program on his own.”

Minjung frowned, sitting down next to you and fixing the loose strands on the haphazard ponytail you managed to pull up in the middle of the program. “Are you sure? Eunha and I can stay with you until you’re feeling better. Besides, the program’s still long, you deserve to enjoy your hard work later at least.”

Stubbornly, you simply scrunched up your nose and shook your head. “I think I’ve had enough of prom for one night. You should go and dance more, though. I’m okay as long as you guys are having fun.”

But equally as headstrong as you are, Minjung got Eunha in on convincing you to agreeing to one dance with them as soon as she came back from the bathroom, reasoning out that, “We can stay in the back and just dance silly! It’s prom!”

The pair proved themselves to be unstoppable in their joint persuasiveness when they got you to stand up and actually join them at the next set, right as Jisung was about to approach you to apologize. The poor boy ended up waiting the entire night until the two of you were alone instead, shivering right next to each other at the lobby while waiting for his brother to pick you two up.

“Why did you even pick out something off-shoulder? I get that it’s trendy these days but you picked the venue knowing it’s cold and didn’t even connect a few dots there.” He hissed lowly, contemplating on teasing you further or keeping it quiet until he can muster up a ‘sorry’ to you. Shrugging off his jacket, he then gently draped it over your shoulder and added, “Don’t catch a cold or something...your mom’s going to kill me.”

“Shut up.” You hissed back, crossing your arms further in over your chest as you spotted his brother’s car approaching the lobby’s driveway. You didn’t remove his coat from your back, though, clutching it tightly instead while convincing yourself that he willingly gave it to you so there’s no reason for you to throw it back at him when you really needed it. “ You don’t even do nice things for me.”

The familiar words visibly caught him off-guard, almost foiling his plan of opening the door for you as he freezes in his steps but he regains composure in time and almost trips ahead to swat your hand away from the car’s door handle. “I’m sorry.” He mumbled in the awkward silence, gulping down his fears of your death glare as he briefly averted his gaze away from you. With this, he missed the way your gaze softened. “There’s candies in the pockets.”

And there was, coincidentally enough the same brand he tried stealing from you on your school field trip.

“These aren’t expired, right?” You chuckled, popping a chocolate in your mouth anyway.

That was enough for Jisung to relax his shoulders and laugh along. “No, promise.” He held a hand up as if he was swearing by his words, easing you into another fit of laughs. “I ran all the way to the convenience store down the block to get you those tonight! I felt really bad...I didn’t mean it.”

He could be sweet if he wanted, you’d give him that.

“I’m sorry too.” You whispered to him at the end of the night, right after scoffing at him for insisting to walk you all the way to your doorstep of course. “I was so stressed with managing everything that I took it out on you.”

Standing awkwardly with you right in front of your house’s front door, the sheepish boy rubbed the nape of his neck and shrugged. “Nah, I think I deserve it. I do annoy you a lot, don’t I?” He chuckled, eyes trained to the ground. “I didn’t even ask you to one dance.”

“Not like you actually had to, we’re no—”

“But you were still technically my date and I don’t want to be a bad prom date, even to you!” He insisted anyway, only then looking up at you. “I’ll make it up to you in the distant future, okay? Reserve me your next dance in the distant future, no matter where it is!”

Before you could even retort, he was already running back to his brother’s car.

Age eighteen and a half. Jisung began dating a girl named Haneul whom he met in one of his general classes and didn’t have one single clue about baseball or soccer. Naturally, his entire friend group was concerned.

Though you’re much civil friends now, you still didn’t really care. Or maybe you didn’t want to out of spite (or a really really weird and displaced feeling of jealousy?), you weren’t sure. You just thought that Jisung can do whatever he wants even when it’s something that’s generally not advisable when you’re a freshman in college, but it seemed as if it was all Jeongin talked to you about whenever the two of you met up to study for one of your shared classes so naturally you forced yourself to take in all of the gossip. What’s worse is that Hyunjin would come over often to loiter around the library and gawk at the cute student librarian, ultimately encouraging the younger boy to talk about it more.

“You’re being unfair to her.” You always reminded the two, sometimes Seungmin when he would sit quietly in the middle of the topic and say nothing to defend Haneul. In this particular time, Jeongin took you to watch the baseball team’s Wednesday scrimmage after hours of studying your nursing notes together at the nearby library. “Like, look, I don’t even do any sports myself but you guys hang out with me.”

“But you’re different, you’re not dating any one of us.” Hyunjin snickered, hugging his helmet to his chest as he sat a step below you on the bleaches. When a thought then crossed his mind, he dramatically gasped over his gloves and added, “Wait, does that mean you have a crush on someone? Is it me?”

You smacked him in the head with your hand, rolling your eyes after. “You know what I mean.”

Next to you, Jeongin mustered up a shrug as he tried getting an injured Kira to sit back down on her seat. Your stubborn best friend, after playing at an underground derby game on the weekend prior, kept on moving around because sitting down with her injuries made her uncomfortable. “But at least you make an effort for us even if it’s just small.” He reasoned out, huffing tiredly when Kira finally sits down and promises not to move for the next five minutes. You would’ve helped him but personally you thought he deserved to suffer alone after letting her go out despite her injuries today. “Haneul got dragged by Jisung to watch last week’s scrimmage and didn’t even last a set. She just left in the middle of the game—literally!”

“He made Jisung skip on my derby game to too!” Kira pouted, waving her bandaged hands frantically in the air. “I’m personally offended, Y/N!”

“And she doesn’t seem to like talking to us in general.” Hyunjin shrugged in conclusion. “Like, sports aside, she’s a bit rude and nonchalant when she talks to us in general especially when Sung isn’t around. It’s a bit sus to me.”

“To be fair, Kira, I wouldn’t be going too if you and Yeji aren’t so insistent on it. It’s so worrying seeing the two of you get hurt.” You pointed out before averting your attention to Jeongin once more. “And Jeongin, you know the only reason I can’t leave baseball and soccer games these days is because you and Seungmin are usually my ride home.” You scoffed. “If I could, I’d be hanging out with Felix more and only going to Kira’s games. Ya, why is he even allowed to skip games and I’m not, anyway?”

“Because he’s taking classes and training with the cheerdance squad until 8 PM and as far as I’m concerned, you’re free after 12 noon like me!” Jeongin simply grinned at you, earning himself a glare. “Also, I need you here with me as the medic team. You know I’ll panic alone!”

Fortunately, no one ever actually gets injured at any of the games regardless if they were formal or not. By the time the game has finished, you were reminding Kira to rest more at her dorms and sprinting out of the baseball field to the samgyeopsal place the team promised to treating dinner at. You completely missed the boys’ conversation on Haneul in the process but you did get free food.

You really didn’t get it. The one time you met Haneul by chance, when you and Felix bumped into the two at the mall near the supermarket, she seemed a bit distant but she could be polite when she wanted to. Of course, it rubbed you the wrong way but you and Felix thought that it was none of your business anyway, given that neither of you are dating her.

“When the guys walked me out of the baseball field last Wednesday, they did mention something about Jisung aiming for the soccer national team but who knows if they’re exaggerating again or something.” Kira confided in you later that week when the two of you met up over lunch. “Either way, I’d understand. If I were in Jisung’s shoes, I’d feel a little disheartened if someone I really like doesn’t appreciate the things I’m passionate about!”

Still, you simply let your friends sort it out for themselves. “Jisung’s a grown-up, he can figure things out on his own at the end of the day.” You reasoned out.

Age eighteen and three-fourths. Jisung asked—practically begged—you to go to the movies with him because he and Haneul broke up the week before his birthday after opening up his worries to her. The other ticket was meant to be a surprise for his ex-girlfriend.

From what Jeongin and Felix have gossiped to you on two separate occasions, Haneul apparently didn’t like you and the rest of Jisung’s immediate friend group no matter how many times the boys tried warming up to her and getting to know her over the summer. She didn’t really support Jisung’s passion for sports, too, and mostly just stuck around for the ‘clout of it all’ or however Felix worded it to you.

“I’d ask Hyunjin but he has a date with that librarian!” Jisung frowned over the phone on the night before the scheduled screening of Weathering with You. Reminiscent of a similar time long ago, he sounded more like he was convincing himself than you. “And Seungmin’s taking care of Kira, Minho and Felix are training, Changbin’s doing God knows what with his finals, Chan has swim training and—and yeah, you know where I’m going with this!”

You sighed, rolling over on your back in your bed after submitting your online work. “You can ask the baseball team, the soccer team, your Introduction to Musical Theory class, the campus radio club, and—and yeah, you also know where I’m going with this.”

“Yeah but—but it’d be weird if I just went with anyone or something!” He mumbled under his breath, pausing on the other line to scratch his head in thought. “Come on, it’s not your midterms week yet, right? Can’t you come over and go to the movies with me?”

“You’ll probably strangle me in the dark or something.” You argued next.

“But it’s free tickets! At least you’re going to die with free tickets!”

“So you are planning to kill me! I knew it!” You snorted dryly, rolling your eyes. “Seriously, don’t you have anyone else to go with? Why me?”

Jisung took in a sharp breath in the longest pause you’ve ever heard from the usually rowdy boy. At that moment, only then did you notice the faint sounds of pre-recorded dialogues for soccer arcade games. He must’ve been at the one near his dorm then as he usually was when he was contemplating on something. “I just—honestly, I’m still processing all of this and I don’t want to open up to the guys...and Eunha’s abroad and I’m not that close to Kira or Bora so I thought of you.”

Now, it was your turn to be speechless.

“It’s silly, I know.” Jisung continued with an awkward laugh when he didn’t hear anything on your end. “But even when you’re annoying sometimes and you always get angry at me because you always misunderstand, you’ve known me the longest and I know you listen well and you’re always open-minded about things so I thought I’d vent to you, if it’s okay...”

You finally released a defeated sigh, sitting up properly on your bed as if he was actually in the same room as you. “God, you’re too good at making me feel guilty.” You mused out loud. “Fine, just text me the place and time and no funny business!”

You met up with Jisung at the nearest shopping center the following night, surprise paper bags of take-out and a mini cake for two to eat at the cinema.

“I’m only going to be nice to you this time because you just got dumped and it’s your birthday later.” You explained as serious as you can to a giggling and blushing Jisung, handing him the take-out paper bags. Once the dinner meals are in his hands, you then take out the blueberry mini cheesecake from its separate paper bag and set up the candle you brought along with it. “Now, make a wish and get it over with.”

Jisung’s eyes widened at the pink candle suddenly being pushed up to his face, distracting him from the passersby cooing and making comments at the two of you. “Really?”

You nodded impatiently, thrusting the cake further up his face. “Yes! Now, blow on your candles or I’ll do it myself and eat the whole thing!”

Jisung wasted no time blowing the single candle and taking the cake from you as well, jumping up and down in place as he closed the lid carefully and returned it to its paper bag. “Thank you!” He exclaimed gleefully, pulling you to a side hug. “Now, I feel a bit better.”

“You better.” You frowned back at him, biting down a small smile when his hug lingered on a second longer. “Now, let’s go or we’ll be late to the screening.”

Fortunately, Jisung didn’t actually tried strangling you in the dark while the movie played since he became busy with eating his dinner and cake as well as crying over the plot.

Age nineteen. Jisung took you to the arcade inside the shopping center after to vent while scoring kicks at the mini soccer game.

“Basically, she said—” Score. “—that she felt annoyed that Hyunjin, Minho, Jeongin, and Seungmin were mostly onto her for ‘seeming off’ whenever they met or interacted.” Another score. Standing outside the protective fence, your gaze darted quickly between Jisung and the small net across the long room. “So I said that’s just how those guys are: they’re very curious of new people and make a lot of effort over it so when they feel that the other person’s energy seems off or doesn’t match theirs in any way, they’d worry.”

You nodded along whenever he glanced over to you, agreeing halfheartedly. “Hm, those guys don’t take bullshit, of course...”

“Yeah, right...” Jisung kicked another ball, barely missing the goal as he thinks of what to say next. “Then she started accusing the guys that they don’t like her because she doesn’t do sports which doesn’t even make sense because I know it’s not superficial like that.” He sighed, scoring again. After this particular kick, he then stopped altogether and turned to you. “The guys just feel off that, as someone I’m dating, she doesn’t make enough effort to watch my games or be familiar with the sports I love. It’s not the same thing.”

“But does she make an effort to listen to your music?” You blurted out of nowhere, surprising not only Jisung but also yourself.

It just occurred you to on the spot. All this talk about Jisung’s passion for sports had you thinking if Haneul also disliked the one other thing that Jisung was absolutely passionate about: his music.

And it seemed to have caught him off-guard as it took the boy longer to contemplate on the question. “I—n-no? No...” He furrowed his brows in thought, walking over to you on his side of the chain link fence. “Come to think of it, she never told me what she thought of the songs I used to send her for feedback...”

You nodded, mumbling under your breath, “So much for defending her from everyone last summer...”

“Hm?”

“Like, I’d get it if your friends don’t immediately warm up to her because that really does happen in some relationships and it can be remedied over time but not appreciating the things you, the person she’s dating, are passionate about is another thing. If she doesn’t like the things you’re passionate about, then maybe she really isn’t the one you should be with.” You shrugged nonchalantly. “She could be all things nice but if she doesn’t support your own ambitions, other things that make you really happy, then everything else doesn’t mean anything.”

When he doesn’t speak, you allow yourself to continue. “Kira told me that you’re aiming for the national team in either baseball or soccer which is a bit surprising since I know you’re already being sought after for your music even at university so clearly those things are very important to you. Having someone around that doesn’t see that importance enough to make efforts is a bit meaningless in the long run, if you think about it. You...you deserve better, it’s what I’m trying to get at.”

Still, he wouldn’t speak after everything you said. Instead, the boy just gaped at you from the fence. It definitely unnerved you as time dragged on longer.

“I let you vent and made my own input on it like you wanted me here to and you just gape?” You tsked through your nervousness, crossing your arms teasingly and leaning over the fence on your side. “Ji, say something.”

“...thank you.” He finally breathed out before you could complain further, catching you off-guard this time. “I needed that.”

“What?”

“This whole thing just made me feel really conflicting feelings.” He confessed, voice lower than usual now as he mirrored your position. “Thank you for listening and telling me what you thought. They definitely made a lot of things clearer.”

You smiled, shoving him slightly through the fence separating the two of you. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it birthday boy?” You teased, laughing even more when he pouted at your teasing tone. “So? Feel better, then?”

“A bit, yeah.” He nodded, grinning widely now. “Thanks for tonight, Y/N.”

“You won’t admit it to my face but I know you’d do the same for me if I annoyed you into it enough.” You shrugged, standing up properly now and walking over to the entrance. “Now, would you let me play? You’ve been at it for twenty minutes, it’s getting tiring watching you.”

He laughed at this as you joined him in the arcade space, kicking a soccer ball towards you as soon as you came in through the chain entrance. “What? You think you can do better?”

“I had to watch you all the time after school back then because you were my ride home and Mrs. Han always picked us up late. I’m sure that could amount to something.”

Age nineteen and a half. For a mandatory community service class, all of your friends signed up to volunteer at an orphanage.

The majority vote was actually at the shelter you used to volunteer at but your old neighbourhood was too far from the university you were attending and so the most practical option, the orphanage just two blocks away, was the natural next best thing. And from this one semester’s worth of experience, you definitely learned a lot about your friends.

For one, Hyunjin, Felix, and Jeongin were only popular with kids but only for their looks (additionally, his baking skills for Felix). Whenever you passed by them during volunteer hours, you would often find the three buried underneath a pile of toddlers hitting them with all kinds of toys. Feeling bad, you actually got the orphanage’s matron to assign them to the older kids after a while.

Seungmin and Kira, on the other hand, were so awkward at first but naturally got into the groove of it. Maybe it’s because they only started dating then and everything was flustering but they surprised you the most with how much they got along with almost all of the kids regardless of age.

Then, there was Jisung whom almost all of the younger kids practically fought over to play with at the playground. As if it was an inside joke of some sort, it made you laugh the most how the kids would often ask him to push them at the swings.

“Careful now,” You reminded him once jokingly, elbowing his side as the two of you approached the swing set where the kids were already waiting to get pushed on their respective seats. “don’t want their knees to get scraped or something.”

He simply scoffed at you, shaking his head in disbelief. “I won’t let that happen, not at this age.”

“So if I asked you to push me on the swings later, you won’t try and kill me this time?” You asked next, waving hello to the children before going around the swing set to gently push them to momentum. Jisung followed suit, making a beeline to his favorite, a toddler named Ara who always asked to be pushed higher on the swings.

“That’s a trick question because we’re not actually allowed to play here.” He answered matter-of-factly, turning to Ara right after. “Isn’t that right, Ara? Y/N isn’t allowed to play here because she’s an adult, right?”

The two of you would sit on the swing set and take turns pushing each other when the orphanage staff weren’t looking anyway, giggling amongst yourselves while watching the kids migrate to the jungle gym.

“You were so annoying when we were kids!” You mostly complained, letting yourself laugh about it now as it was all in the distant past. “You had the ‘girls had cooties’ phase and everything.”

“Because the boys all said it was true!” Jisung was quick to say in his defense, twisting the chains on his swing around to make himself spin. “And I was seven so of course I’d believe them that easily!”

“What about when you pushed me from the swings?”

“We both know that was an accident.”

“You could’ve secretly held a grudge against me as early as that time! You were so mad when your mom made you buy me snacks!”

“Because you told your mom that I did it on purpose! I thought you hated me even before that too.”

“Well, I never hated you before that, just to set the record straight.” You shook your head immediately, turning your swings to the side to face him briefly. “You? Did you ever hate me?”

“Never.” He shook his head back at you in response, equally serious now. “You were annoying at times but that was because I was kinda annoying to you too.”

“What about now?” You asked next, voice unexpectedly wavering at asking such a question and even more when he chuckled at this.

“You were with me on my what was almost my worst birthday ever just three months ago. What do you think?” He scoffed playfully, returning to his spinning to ease his flustered face. “Besides, we’re like better less-trying to kill each other all the time friends now! We’re even studying together again these days.”

“We both know you’re only at the library since you’ve been trying to wingman Hyunjin with the librarian and dote on Jeongin like he’s your baby.”

“What? No, I’m there for you too! Moral support!”

Age nineteen and three-fourths. Jisung’s older brother invited you along with your parents to his wedding during the Spring break and Jisung immediately jumped on the chance to redeem himself as ‘the best dance partner you ever had.’

You didn’t even think he’d remember something he said himself back then. Personally, you thought it was just his guilt from pissing you off or sleepiness from dancing too much at prom that was talking then. But the moment the dance floor was opened at the rather extravagant cherry blossoms-themed wedding, the best man was by your side within seconds after sprinting from his table across the wedding hall.

“Y/N!” He called to you as he ran to your table shared with all of your friends, your parents, and a few people from your childhood neighbourhood; his obnoxiously loud voice against the jazz music and his hand raised up above his head to wave at you catching a few guests’ attention. “Y/N!”

Felix was about to ask you to dance after Seungmin and Kira as well as Hyunjin and Jeongin paired up, your hand already up in the air to accept his, but Jisung was quick to swat your hand away from the other boy as soon as he arrived. “Sorry, Lix, I’m afraid I’ll have to steal Y/N away!” He dramatically interrupted in between tired pants, flashing the confused Felix with a sheepish grin. “I owe Y/N a very important dance!”

“What dance?” You raised a brow, bringing your hand away from his and back to your lap.

“The one—t-the one I promised you that night a-at prom.” He sighed, finally catching his breath after. “I promised you then, remember?”

From the corner of your eye, Felix’s eyes lightened up in excitement as he clasped his hands together and cooed. “Aww!” He giggled, making you and Jisung turn to him after. “If that’s the case, then why should I stop you two? I’ll just see if Chan or Changbin aren’t dancing yet!”

“But Lix!”

The other boy’s quick to wave his hands to you snappily, shaking his head. “No buts, Y/N! You two go and do that cute promised dance thing you have going on! I’ll be fine!” He assured, much to your protests. “I knew something was going on!”

“Nothing’s going o—“

“Thanks, Lix! I owe you, dude.” Jisung pats Felix’s shoulder appreciatively, turning to you after and taking your hand once more to pull you up into a stand. “Now, come on! My brother said he has my songs on queue!”

He whisked you away before you could protest further, taking you to the dance floor just as the music slows down to his own song. “Right on time!” He even exclaimed happily before placing his other hand on your waist. You’ve heard this one before as the one he would always sing at the Open Mic Nights at university. “Now, to make it up to you...”

Jisung didn’t dance so bad. He was still playful, making it a game between the two of you on who can step on the other’s feet the most when the next songs became more upbeat, but he was serious when he wanted to, sheepishly apologizing that it took him long to make it up to you.

“I didn’t even remember it until you brought it up tonight.” You assured with a laugh as the song slowed down once more. Without even realizing it, you’ve danced all of the songs in the two-hour setlist with him. “I didn’t think it was important.”

“Well, it is to me.” He shrugged as nonchalantly as he can, visibly looking nervous towards the end. When you quietly asked him why, his only response was, “Because that night I really realized that even when I liked annoying you, I don’t like pissing you off so much to the point that you hate me.”

And at that moment you realized that Jisung has some way of catching you off-guard so randomly. “W-What? I mean—” You wanted to joke something along the lines of ‘wow, took you long enough,’ but the words ultimately never came out as Jisung chuckled at your baffled expression.

“I mean, trying to piss each other off, joking around, competing over studies—those are our things.” He confessed sincerely, unconsciously tightening his grip on your hand as the song progressed. “But I said something that night thinking of it as a joke and not really considering the thought that it would piss you off so much because you were so stressed already. I didn’t like pushing you on edge like that—”

“You already apologized and everything, it’s all g—”

“—But most importantly, I really wanted to dance with you then, regardless of the incident.” He breathed out before you could even finish your thought, rendering you speechless for the second time. “Maybe I’ve always liked you then, maybe even before that; either way, I really wanted to have one moment where we weren’t fighting or anything—and, surprisingly, even when we’ve started hanging out better, I still want one. I still like you.”

You immediately stopped dancing, bumping shoulders with a stranger behind you which Jisung instinctively responded to by pulling your frozen form to the side of the dance floor. You pursed your lips once to speak, only managing to fumble out, “Y-You...you liked me?”

“I said I like you. Present tense.” He cleared his throat awkwardly, hands dropping to his sides immediately at sensing how tense and awkward the atmosphere suddenly became. “And I like you the way Seungmin dotes on Kira and Minho’s always protective of Bora and Jeoyeon’s been helplessly pining over Chan, those kinds in case you’re going to pull that how exactly do I like you bullshit you learned from Minho before again.”

“I—r-really?” Was your only response as you tried your best to process this revelation. “You like me? W-Why—why me?”

He chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the nape of his neck. “Yes, Y/N, how many times do I have to repeat myself?” He teased as casually as he could muster with his growing nervousness. “And why you? I don’t know, either, but I think I can start remembering as far back as the time you teased me at the playground that I push like a sissy but didn’t look for another playmate anyway. I’ve always liked you...just a little bit more now that I’m much more sure of a lot of things.”

It was all so overwhelming, honestly, but you belatedly muster up a laugh as he recalled such a distant memory from you. “Y-You...God, Han Jisung, you’re insufferable!” You mumbled under your breath, hitting him by his arm with one hand while the other covered your mouth. “Why didn’t you say so?”

“So, does that mean you like me too?”

“I let you dance with me the entire night. What do you think?” You scoffed playfully, gaze softening as you looked up at his relieved smile and bright eyes. “You did push like a sissy at the playground when we were kids, though.”

Age twenty. When Minho bought his roommate flowers to their last cheerdance competition and asked her to be his girlfriend, Hyunjin dared you to one-up the upperclassman and wear Jisung’s jersey to his own final game of the year.

“Well, you did give him that talk over dating someone who appreciates the things he loves.” Eunha told you over video call with the rest of your friend group on the day Hyunjin brought up the idea. Before you could even protest and repeatedly assure that you do support everything Jisung does, she was quick to add, “Yeah, I know you do appreciate them but I just think it’s fitting now! He’s been making a lot of effort for you lately and didn’t you say you wanted to do something in return? Maybe you can finally ask him what you’ve been wanting to ask for a while now too...”

You hated how she was right and very convincing about it. Since the wedding earlier in the year, Jisung has been nothing short of nicer to you. From actually hanging out with you at the library now (and not just to wingman Hyunjin or dote on Jeongin), buying you food randomly, to letting you vent your own worries and unwind from school by playing soccer with you or playing you music with his guitar, he’s been ‘making it up to you’ with quality time and sweet gestures; the only catch is that he hasn’t officially asked you out like he would.

The two of you aren’t exactly the direct words type of people but it’s still nice to have some sort of affirmation.

With a few more coaxing on her part combined with Seungmin’s own persuasiveness nagging at you in real time, your friends eventually got Jeongin to steal one of Jisung’s spare soccer jerseys later that day to give to you for his game on the following Saturday.

To say that Jisung was flustered is an understatement to say the least. Quickly catching you at the very front of the bleachers before the game started, he waved at you and the rest of your cheering friend group shyly, approaching only when the coach gave him permission to.

“Hey, that’s mine.” He snickered with even more sheepishness at seeing you up close, holding the jersey he wears by its shoulders before gesturing to the identical one you wear. The two of you stand by the stairs leading down to the field, on the side where you aren’t in the way of passing players and staff. “The jersey—maybe the one wearing it too.”

You held up the bouquet of daisies in your hands close to your face, effectively hiding the heat rising up to your neck. “I bought your favorite flowers too.” You pointed out next before gesturing to your friends sitting around you. “Those smartasses dared me to outdo Minho’s stunt at the cheerdance competition which I still think is dumb since you were in on that one but, hey, it’s the thought that counts, isn’t it?”

“Just seeing you is already enough.” He added with a flirty wink, making you cringe teasingly. “The jersey’s a really big bonus, though. I think I can score everything on this one because of you.”

“You better or else this jerseys’ going to be mine now.”

“I don’t mind.” He shook his head immediately, pulling you closer by the waist in his now ritual good luck hug from you and placing the flowers back on your sides. “I don’t mind calling you mine too.”

The cheesy pick-up line makes the two of you laugh. Either way, you push yourself to not let go of him too soon. “...ew, Jisung!” You hit his back instead, heaving a sigh of relief anyway before finally pulling away from his hug to send him off. That’s enough confirmation now. “Now, go win this game and get it over with. We’re still on for movies later, right?”

“Yep.” He assured, patting your head affectionately before boldly leaning closer again for a kiss. “I’m looking forward to it!”

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lloydskywalkers · 4 years ago

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Heyo! Hope your doing exceptionally well, wonderful and ur staying safe! I was reading ur little oneshots for the movie! Verse and instantly fell in love! Think u have anymore for Kai and Lloyd? (But u don’t need to listen to this, obviously hehe) Have a splendid day!

ahhH thank you, I hope you’re doing well too!! :D oh man it’s been so long since i’ve written something for movie-verse, but I’ve had this little snippet in my head for a while so I guess it’s as good a time as any (and it is, of course, about kai and lloyd bc when is it noT)

it’s a little different than what i usually write, for movie-verse? but i hope it fits the bill! (takes place pre-movie, btw)

Of all his friends, Lloyd thinks Kai is most like the sun. Not just for his codename, and the enthusiasm with which he brings fire to the team, metaphorically and far too often literally, but for how bright he is. Kai reminds Lloyd of the sun at full force, strong and blazing and staunchly refusing to let anyone hide from his warmth. An endlessly combusting ball of stubbornness and passion.

Kai also reminds Lloyd of the sun in the way that he possesses about the same amount of brain cells the sun does, which is zero, because the sun has no brain — much like Kai.

“Hey, ru—de, ow, stop—”

Kai’s petulant response strangles off in cracked pain as Lloyd hushes him, simultaneously pulling the alcohol-soaked cloth from his arm with a sympathetic wince.

“Sorry, sorry,” Lloyd murmurs, wringing the edge of the cloth. “But I’ve gotta — it’ll get infected, if you don’t—”

“Nah, s’okay,” Kai says, breath hissing out through clenched teeth. He gives Lloyd a wavering smile that could almost be encouraging, were he not bleeding over Lloyd’s faded bedspread. “Just caught me off guard, I’m good now. ‘Sides, the — the stitches are gonna be worse, so—”

“It won’t be that bad,” Lloyd promises him, cleaning the rest of the deep slashes that run across Kai’s arm as quickly as he can. The lower ones aren’t so bad — he could get away without stitches, maybe. It’s the uppermost one that scares Lloyd, cutting deep enough into Kai’s skin to pose a threat. And Lloyd has no intention of leaving Kai anywhere near in danger, especially with the reason he’s hurt in the first place.

Lloyd swallows against the thick lump that suddenly forms in his throat, trying to banish the flood of emotions that have been rising since the battle against his father’s forces earlier. Surprise, shock, gratitude—? A swirling maelstrom of a deep-seated kind of aching warmth Lloyd is utterly unfamiliar with. It leaves him off-kilter, and words don’t come easily as they usually do.

Not that words ever come easily to Lloyd, but normally he isn’t quite this stuttering. Maybe. He hopes not. Maybe he’s just hyperaware right now, after everything, and he always sounds this embarrassing.

“I promise,” Lloyd continues, yanking himself from his thoughts as he busies with the needle. “I’ve got a lot of experience, and I’ll be gentle.”

Kai watches Lloyd threading the needle with a thinly-veiled fear, but he nods, the bravado Lloyd’s more familiar with making its way across his face. “Nice,” he says. “I trust you, Dr. Lloyd.”

Lloyd’s hands falter with the needle for a moment, before he resumes sterilizing it, ducking his head. Kai sounds like he means it — Kai sounds like he means everything he says, but the way he says trust hits differently, for Lloyd.

They’ve only been a team for few months, now. Not very long at all, to form any kind of trust in the son of your greatest enemy. Lloyd’s been going to school with some of the same people since kindergarten, and they’ve never looked at him with anything kinder than hatred, much less trust. And yet Kai is here, offering him his bleeding arm in Lloyd’s tiny room, trusting him to repair the damage he only took because he was protecting Lloyd.

Lloyd doesn’t understand. He doesn’t — people don’t — but his team—

They listened to him. Actually listened to him, to Lloyd. They actually listen to him in general, have since they were all thrown together in this odd little grouping, but it hasn’t quite hit home in the way it did tonight, when he’d snapped orders at them in barely-restrained panic, Kai’s blood staining his fingers as he’d staunched the knife wounds meant for him.

They hadn’t flinched back at his raised voice. Lloyd never raises his voice — he’s learned to keep it quiet, soft, unassuming. Even the slightest slip of frustration is enough to send anyone around him murmuring in suspicion, eyes narrowing and hissed whispers of just like his father filling the air.

Lloyd’s voice had been sharp and strained, barking across the rooftop, and they’d listened. No one flinched back, no eyes widened in fear — they’d just listened. They’re still listening, carrying out Lloyd’s orders without question, and it’s — it’s dizzying, if Lloyd had to put a word to it.

Cole and Zane are taking care of clean-up — something Lloyd will have to thank them for later, profusely. Neither were particularly happy about letting Kai out of their sights, but Cole and Zane are better at keeping each other steady than anyone else. It was the right call, Lloyd knows it was. Hopes it was.

But Lloyd hasn’t been having much faith in his calls, tonight. Not after Kai went down.

He swallows, focusing on the sounds reverberating from behind his closed door. Nya and Jay are talking with his mother, Nya’s louder tones easier to hear as she laughs. Lloyd knows her well enough to catch the strain in it, but he knows it’ll fool his mother. They’re distraction — Lloyd’s house was closest, and he’s got the best supplies stashed there. No one questions why he’s the one with the fully stocked medical kit, but Lloyd suspects they’ve all drawn their own conclusions.

He wishes they’d believe him, when he says it’s because he’s worried for them. He grew up with Wu as his uncle, who picks fights on a daily basis — with Morro as his cousin, who picks fights on an hourly basis. Lloyd knows the importance of having the good kind of medical supplies.

He finishes prepping the needle, squeezing Kai’s wrist briefly in warning. Lloyd’s not usually a tactile person — not that anyone would let him be — but he knows Kai soaks up touch like a starved sponge, and Lloyd’s desperate to give any kind of comfort he can before he starts with the needle.

Kai swallows, fixing his eyes firmly on the faded glow-in-the-dark stars plastered across Lloyd’s ceiling.

“Okay,” he says, his voice tight. “Bring it on.”

Lloyd swallows, steels himself, and sets the needle against his skin. Kai flinches at the first prick, eyes squeezing shut briefly, but otherwise he doesn’t move, jaw set stubbornly as Lloyd moves quickly. For his part, Lloyd keeps his eyes locked on the stitches, his hands steady. For all that Lloyd’s made up of bouncing nerves half the time, his hands rarely shake. Never when patching wounds up. He’s always been proud of how steady he can hold a needle, and tonight is no exception.

It’s the least he can do.

Kai suddenly tenses up, a broken-off noise strangling in his throat. Lloyd’s heart twists, but he stays steady, rallying himself. Conversation — Kai likes talking, right? Distraction, he can do that.

“So, um,” Lloyd stutters. On second thought, he’s awful at small talk. But — for Kai. “The way you took down that last guy was, it was really cool. Where’d you learn that?”

Kai bites his lip, exhaling shakily before he answers. “I train too, you know.”

Lloyd’s mouth quirks, despite himself. “Not like that.”

“What, a ninja can’t — can’t get creative,” Kai replies, through half-gritted teeth. Lloyd doesn’t say anything, but Kai rolls his eyes, continuing. “Fine. When I was younger, I ah…might’ve taken a few dance classes. For Nya! ‘Cause I couldn’t let her go alone, y’know, but they were — they were kinda fun, I guess, and maybe they slip into fighting, sometimes.” His cheeks darken, and Lloyd bites back a quiet laugh.

“Nothing like Cole, obviously, ‘cause he’s an actual dancer, but — that’s where I got it from.” He pins Lloyd with a glare, that’s somewhat dimmed by the scrunched expression of pain on his face. “Tell anyone and you’re dead though, okay?”

Lloyd hums his agreement, too focused on the stitches to reply immediately. After a moment, though, he speaks up again. “I did some ballet, when I was little.”

“No way,” Kai says, sounding delighted.

“Yeah, way,” Lloyd says. “I’ve heard from a very reliable source that dancing backgrounds are useful, with ninja stuff.”

“Very reliable meaning your uncle,” Kai grins.

Lloyd shrugs. “Maybe,” he half-smiles. Kai suddenly sucks in another pained breath, but to Lloyd’s relief, it’s likely the last one. He finishes off the stitches with a well-practiced hand, snapping the end of the thread and exhaling in relief.

“There. All done.”

Kai’s eyes widen. “Seriously, already?” He glances down at his arm, his other hand moving up to touch the stitches. Lloyd smacks it away, glaring at him.

“Don’t touch. You still have to watch out for infection. I’ll text you instructions for taking care of it, and everything. Just don’t do anything, ah…”

“No ninja-ing?” Kai finishes for him, crestfallen.

“Probably a good idea,” Lloyd says, apologetic. “But it’s not too bad. Shouldn’t take long, and you can be out, uh, ninja-ing again."

Kai is quiet for a moment, regarding his stitches. Then he turns to Lloyd, who is immediately staggered at the bright smile that stretches across his face.

“Cool. Thanks, Lloyd. You’re good at this.”

Lloyd can’t answer, his throat burning. He forces the welling moisture back, looking away. Kai’s only hurt for him, and that is layered with so much more meaning than Lloyd can comprehend right now.

“No problem,” Lloyd mutters, focusing instead on the voices outside his door in an attempt to find footing again. He can hear his mom laughing at something Nya’s said, open and relaxed in a way his mom rarely is. Lloyd’s heart twists into knots.

He doesn’t deserve them, any of them. Not really.

If Kai reminds Lloyd of the sun, then the rest of the team reminds him of stars. All bright and shining, bursting with warmth in their own way. Maybe not quite at the blazing heat that Kai does, but Nya is a north star if Lloyd’s ever needed one. Jay’s a blinking constellation, scattered stars that form a complex whole much larger than you’d thought. Cole’s the kind of star you see first pop up over the horizon, blending with the oranges and purples of the sunset, like a painting you’d see in soft watercolors. Zane’s the early-morning kind of star, the ones that stay stubbornly after the night’s left, dotting the pale morning with a calm steadiness.

Lloyd would be a planet, he supposes, caught in faithful orbit around the five people who have somehow, for some reason, given him a chance. It’d be generous, though. No, Lloyd is content just to be a moon — with no light of his own, reflecting only the brilliance others give him the best he can.

Kai’s finger taps the edge of his forehead, snapping Lloyd from his thoughts, and he blinks in confusion.

“Lost you there, again,” Kai asks, words mangled through a yawn. “Where’d you go?”

Lloyd shakes his head, turning his attention back to the bloodied thread leftover in his hands. His stomach turns, and he quickly sets it aside. “Just thinking.” He pauses, momentarily lost for words. He settles for jerking his head toward the window, where the smoke trailing from their hard-won battle is still visible against the dark sky, and gives Kai a wry smile. “How much do you wanna bet the cheerleading team comes up with a new song tomorrow?”

It’s been an inside joke for them, the ridiculous songs Chen and his gang keep coming up with to throw at Lloyd, and normally it gets a laugh from Kai. This time, though, Kai is silent, his eyes searching as he stares at Lloyd. Lloyd shifts under the attention, caught off-guard again. He doesn’t know what kind of look this is, that Kai’s giving him.

“They shouldn’t talk about you like that,” Kai finally says. His voice is quiet, but Lloyd can spot the brewing anger in it. Kai’s always got anger to spare.

“Sticks and stones, remember?” Lloyd shakes his head. He’s learned, after a while, that anger changes nothing. “Words will never hurt me.”

“Words hurt when people are throwing sticks and stones at you while they yell about your dad,” Kai grumbles.

“No one’s thrown rocks since second grade, actually.”

“Hm.” Kai’s tone is a mix of thinly withheld anger and mild amusement. Lloyd tilts his head, confused, and Kai gives a huff, anger tugging loose.

“Y’know, people say that if kids throw rocks at you in second grade, it means they’ve got a crush on you.”

Lloyd knows well enough it’s a joke, but he flushes red anyways, heat spreading across his cheeks. “Yeah, sure,” he stammers. Kai laughs at his reaction, though, the odd kind of anger departing, and Lloyd feels he’s found his footing again.

They’re quiet as Lloyd finishes cleaning up the medical supplies, Kai nodding sleepily on his bed while Lloyd carefully washes the needle in the bathroom sink. Maybe he can convince his mom to let Kai spend the night, he thinks. Jay and Nya , too — their apartment isn’t very big, but it’s awfully late to make them walk home, and Lloyd is fine with taking the floor, if he needs to.

Lloyd nods to himself, resolving to ask her once he’s finished hiding the evidence. His mom’s been so thrilled about him having people over at all, he can’t see her saying no. A smile pulls at his lips as he listens to the conversation outside his door again. Jay’s rambling on now, bright and excited without any of his usual reservation. He feels a pang, wondering if Jay’s the same as him — wondering if they’re all the same, playing at muted caricatures of themselves, too fearful to let whatever lies beneath shine through.

He wonders what it means, that they’re the ones with the city in their hands, that weight on their shoulders. Wonders what it means, that Lloyd feels safer with bullets strafing the air around him and his mask on, than he ever has with it off. That Green Ninja will always, always sound better than Lloyd in his ears.

“Hey, uh.”

Lloyd starts at Kai’s voice, twisting the sink off as he turns to face him. Kai looks half asleep, but the smile he gives him is bright as ever.

“Thanks, seriously. Not just for this, but for looking out for us. You’re a good friend.”

Lloyd’s heart skips a beat, his brain latching onto the word friend and holding on tightly, tucking it somewhere safe inside his chest.

“So thanks, Lloyd,” Kai yawns, barely awake at all now, but still stubbornly clinging to the threads of awareness.

Lloyd’s got his own thank you to give back, twisted and strangled behind whatever lump’s formed in his throat, but Kai’s snoring before he gets the chance to say it. So Lloyd tugs the edge of his comforter over his friend — his friend — instead, and runs the words over in his mind again and again, like a treasured line from a book.

On second thought. Maybe Lloyd isn’t so bad. He’s only ever liked his name the way his mom says it, without any of the snapping, harsh emphasis others give it. In others’ mouths, Lloyd’s name is a curse. In his mom’s, Lloyd’s name belongs to a person.

But he thinks, maybe, he likes the way it sounds when his teammates use it, too.

#answered #ninjago #tlnm #lloyd garmadon #kai smith #slight blood tw #i just. have a lot of feelings about friends #and a lot of thoughts about how the movie!ninja put each other on pedestals #not in an inherently bad way but #i think they all think so much of each other #they forget they're human #and that leads to fallout #anyways! movie bros T-T #my fic #masterofswag213

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heyitsyn · 4 years ago

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Keeping Up With Seijoh Ep. 5

a/n: ong this is going to be a bit of a crack episode w a tiny dash of flirty manager

for more seijoh content, check this masterlist out!

anon:

-Watch the boys be all dramatic when yn misses a few days of school and suddenly show up with a broken arm😭✊🏻😔

- Dunno if this is a dream or not but i think you mentioned that yn is clumsy. Just imagine her carrying those cute band aids around for when she gets hurt. But what if she uses them on the boys when they get hurt

tumblr moot:

- She is looking down at the boy who is checking her scrap on her knee, when she smiles all cutely and shit "I fell for you" And cue the boy having a heart attack because she is way to cute

im totally not running out of seijoh gifs or anything

anyways!!

lets start!!

okay as mentioned before and as read above,,

you are quite clumsy

like there is a normal level of clumsy

but you are just on another level

like in manager part 2, your mom ltr was not shocked when you said you fell up the stairs like ‘oh okay. the weathers nice today’

lmao what

and youre also the type to not even know you got hurt like youd just be scratching your arm and youd find a bruise

‘how did that get there?’

so it was common to find you with band-aids on you and bruises all over

like you entered the gym for practice and you were just doing your normal manager tingz when our meme bois saw you and zoomed towards you

‘y/n-chan!!! we missed you!!!!

makki screeched which scared you so you dropped the crate of bottles onto your feet

‘owie’

you mumbled, the pain settling in at an overwhelmingly quick pace so there were tiny tears in your eyes

the duo gasped and quickly kicked the crate to the side like they were angry at it for hurting you

uwu omg thats so cute

or the one time you were wiping the sweat from kyo’s forehead

he had a small soft smile that could only be seen by you as you got rid of the sweat

but that smile turned into a frown when he got a glimpse at the discoloration on certain parts of your arms

‘y/n’

he whispered

you blinked up and he gently grabbed your arm, fingertips ghosting over the bruises

‘how could you do this to your beautiful skin’

he mumbles and you shrugged

‘hmm,,, i didnt even know they were there’

kyo shook his head with an amused chuckle and iwa, who was drinking water at the side, noticed you two

then he noticed more at your other arm and baby boi hurriedly ran over to you

next thing you know, you got best bois fussing over you always hurting yourself and kyo gently headbutts you to tell you off while iwa flicks your nose

‘honestly, we cant trust you by yourself’

you just giggled at them which caused them to stumble and fluster

THESE BOYS ARE SO SOFT LIKE PLEASE

its quite normal for you to look like you just fell down the stairs and be so surprised whenever the boys point it out

like youd have this confused pout and tilt your head ‘hm? hello. how did you get here’

its kinda cute

and ofc you would naturally have your ointments for bruises or a first aid kit at all times bc you never really know when it happens and you need to treat it quickly

the boys always count on you for medical tape when their fingers bleed or whenever watari gets bruises all over his legs bc of too many flying dives

the bench was a common place for you to treat the others and our libero babie was sitting there at one practice

you were kneeled on the floor and gently applying ointment on the growing colors on his skin

‘hmm,,, wata-san, be careful next time, okay? your skin is really soft and pretty. its a shame to ruin it’

he wanted to scoff at the irony and the hypocritical comment but your worried and concerned eyes made him softly smile and nod

‘mhm. i will’

even though it was uneeded on reddened places, you would dig in your bag and fish out a gudetama bandaid on it

it was like a doctor’s signature for you and it makes the boys ltr fall in love with you all over again

ororororor that one time where kindaichi accidentally got a papercut during your study sessions and he was tearing up slightly at the pain

LMAO YALL REALLY OUT HERE TOUGHING OUT PAPERCUTS LIKE ITS NOTHING BUT I ACT LIKE I GOT STABBED 10 TIMES

you grinned at him to show that it was going to be okay and he let you sit on his lap so you could treat it

he still had a pout and you were giving him forehead kisses to calm him down

‘see? its going to be okay. nurse y/n-chan is the best out there and she’ll take care of you!’

he laughed slightly and you victoriously smiled

once it was all wrapped up, you placed a kiss on it

‘ya gotta kiss it to make it better’

not saying im doing a kindaichi route or anything but he may or may not tackled you with kisses with that comment

but sometimes, they would have to be the one to put that bandaid on you

like one day, you were walking down the stairs to go to the changing rooms for practice and humming softly when you caught sight of the tall volleyball player mattsun at the bottom of the stairs

he was just passing by and you noticed him, waving your hand and shouting his name

‘mattsun-san!’

you greeted and he turned and he smiled brightly at you

you excitedly increased your pace going down the stairs, not noticing that you stepped on the edge of the step and caused your foot to slip

unfortunately, mattsun was too far away for him to catch you so you tripped and scraped your knee

he flashnyoomed over to you and kneeled in front of you to examine it

ofc it hurt like hell but you put up a brave front

‘its okay, mattsun-san’

his adorable eyebrows scrunched in concern and he quickly shook his head and gently picked you up to sit 2 steps up

you watched silently as he grabbed ahold of the familiar blue first aid kit from your bag and he opened it to take out alcohol and other treatment things

his fingers worked to open the bottle and pour a little bit of alcohol before he gently reached out to grab your leg

but before that, our babie mattsun is a gentleman and looked up for a permission to help you

‘its okay, mattsun-san’

you giggled and you booped his nose

he was slowly cleaning the wound and you could still tell he was worried with how his brows were still furrowed

‘mattsun-san’

you called out and he looked up

you smiled cutely and looked down, flustered, then met his eyes again

‘i fell for you’

mattsun.exe stopped working

like deadass he blanked for a second then his brain processed what you said and when he did, he dropped the cotton ball and his face blew up red

this babie grimaced, eyes shutting tightly and head leaning on your thigh

you giggled at him and ran your hands through his hair

‘i swear, y/n, i swear’

he kept mumbling and his heartbeat quickened to the point he felt faint and he felt light-headed

you were just too cute

too damn cute for his heart

too damn cute for this world

just too cute

and thats not good

mattsun quickly regained his senses and hurriedly placed the ointment and the bandaid on to finish the job

you reached out with your hands for a hug and mattsun gladly leaned in and you clung to him like a koala which made him hold you tightly against his chest

‘hmm~~~~ thank you, mattsun-san’

you appreciated and gave him a kiss on his cheek in gratitude which made him hide his face in your neck

‘im going to get a heart attack, y/n. take responsibility’

he mumbled, nipping your neck

you chuckled and played with the hair on his neck

‘hm~ okay~ i take responsibility~’

I SWEAR MY MATTSUN SIMP IS NOW PEAKING THROUGH

that was only one of the accidents the seijoh boys went through with you and i swear those boys have superior intelligence in medical care just because you get hurt so much

until that one faithful day

you werent there

you werent at school or at practice

ofc you texted the coaches and the team that you werent going to be at school for a while and they spammed you asking what happened or if you were okay

but you didnt want to worry them so you just said that you were okay and it was just something that happened

ONG OIKAWA ACTUALLY CAME TO YOUR HOUSE BUT YOU TOLD YOUR PARENTS AND NATSU TO TELL HIM TO GO AWAY BC IF HE FINDS OUT WHAT HAPPENED, THE CHILE WILL STORM INTO YOUR ROOM AND LECTURE YOU

HE ONLY WENT AWAY WHEN YOUR DAD CAME OUT WITH A BROOM AND THREATENED TO HIT HIM IF HE CONTINUES TO BOTHER YOU

UKAI VIBES HONESTLY

IS UKAI YOUR FATHER?

CONSPIRACY THEORY?

BUZZFEED UNSOLVED COME SOLVE THIS

then you finally appeared

dear god

kunimi saw you enter the classroom and he almost shot up to saturn when he saw your cast

‘y/n!’

he shouted and kindaichi heard it from his classroom beside yours and he also usain bolted towards your classroom to your desk

the boi texted the team you were here and they all raced to your classroom

EVERYONE WAS HAVING A FIELD DAY WITH THE APPEARANCE OF THE BEAUTIFUL VOLLEYBALL TEAM LIKE THE BOYS + YOU?! GODSEND

oikawa screeched at the sight of your arm and everyone was firing questions at you but you couldnt focus on one so you just sat there sheepishly smiling

‘Y/N! WHAT DID-’

‘I SWEAR ITS LIKE WE HAVE TO-’

‘MY HEART ALMOST DIED!! I THOUGHT YOU DIED-’

thank god your professor entered the shooed them out with a large textbook but your teacher smiled at you

‘l/n, good to have you back’

at lunch, dear god there was a riot

kunimi strong man kunimi hoisted you in his arms and walked over to the hidden team stairwell where everyone was waiting

they all had narrowed eyes and crossed arms, with iwakyo tapping their foot

you did the 🥺👉👈 and their eyes softened at that sight alone

‘you see,,,, i had a,,, concert,,, in the shower,,, and slipped’

they blinked, confusion swirling over everyone’s head

‘excuse me? you said you slipped in the bath?’

‘for a concert?’

‘you sing?’

the team facepalmed at the reason you came in with a broken arm and you pouted at them

‘sorry, captain, everyone. i didnt mean to’

you mumbled but the others couldnt blame you so they pulled you to a group hug

‘i swear, y/n-chan, you will get yourself killed one day’

‘sorry’

you apologized again but oikawa flicked your nose

‘no dont apologize. we’ll just have to be there for you constantly to look out for you’

and he stuck to that word

like oikawa came over to your house early in the morning to pick you up from school and your dad thought it was just him bothering again

so he sighed, placed his newspaper down, took a sip of tea, then stood up to go to the closet for his broom

this mans took a deep breath before opening his door and shouting and waving his broom around maniacally

‘SHUT UP!!! YOURE DISTURBING THE NEIGHBORS!! I WILL BEAT YOUR LOUD CRUSTY DUSTY-’

that woke up everyone in the house and you bolted down the stairs, terrified yet chuckling at the sight

then something happened for everyone in the neighborhood-or Japan- to wake up

yanno the drill ladies and gents

oikawa screamed

a/n: sorry i disappeared for a HOT SEC but im back!! and we finally going back to the groove!!! and uwu thanks for sticking by and waiting for another update and the next one might be my first not-seijoh work in a LONG WHILE so look forward to that!!!

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realllllfangirllllll · 5 years ago

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Boyfriend!Kihyun

MX Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Omgomg boyfriend kihyun would be SO SO CUTE

I feel like he would be very nervous around u

When he first realized he had a crush on u

Like y’all were really close friends

You would hang w/ the rest of mx often too and some of his other friends

It was a normal routine to hang out tgt every so often

And the most common hangout area was their dorm so you’d be at their house a lot

Kihyun would always yell at u bc u left things scattered everywhere around the dorm

And he’d have to clean up that chaotic mess

He esp hated it when u and jooheon were in the same space

Bc holy hell yall were a mess

Always joking and literally spitting food everywhere from laughing too hard

So he doesn’t know why tf he always invite u over

And the more u come over the more he realizes why

Your company was nice and it made him feel happy

And by happy I mean really happy

The sorta happy that releases all the endorphins in your body and just causes u to smile w/out knowing

The two of u would always end up bickering and playing games to see who cleans

And even when u lose u end up running away and possibly leaving the dorm

So he ends up doing it

But one day your conscience smacked u in the head

So u walk back in the dorm and to the kitchen

Smacking on some rubber gloves and grabbed the sponge next to Kihyun

He flinched from ur sudden appearance and then calmed down when he realized it was u and not a ghost

He was like “finally bitch”

Until he realized how bad u actually were at washing dishes

There were tiny stains everywhere on each dish u washed

He got so bothered and literally made u sit on the stool behind him

So u just sat by the counter and stared at his back as he actually washed the dishes

He hummed to himself now that he finally had peace and stainless dishes

You felt bad so u look down at ur wiggling feet and muttered a sorry

He turned around and was like “come again? did u just say sorry?”

You gave him a little glare and he laughed

But he saw u were genuinely disappointed so he flicked some water off his glove and onto ur face

And u were just dumbfounded bc like wtf u were tryna apologize

But he gave u this dumb smile and laughed so stupidly

So u smiled a little and then ended up laughing too

And then grabbed the sponge tryna to flick some soap onto him

You accidentally purposely swiped the sponge over the entirety of his face and he was so ready to fite u

But as he moved his arm a plate fell and the pieces scattered all over the floor

You didn’t know what u were thinking but u immediately went down to pick the pieces up

But surprise the plate hates u so ur finger ends up bleeding all over the floor

Kihyun got so mad at u

“Are you stupid?! Why would u try to pick it up??”

“I don’t know... it was just a reflex”

“Were u askin to die???”

He’d continue yelling at u

While applying ointment on ur finger

And carefully bandaging it up

As u sat on top of the countop to avoid stepping on the sharp pottery

You’d stare at him and then chuckle to urself

He looked so cute gently fixing ur wound

While aggressively yelling at u

And that was it

That’s how ur heart started beating for him

And u didn’t know what to do

He felt it too

Your cheeks were suddenly pink

But his was even pinker

Red even

After he finished he just awkwardly backed off and rubbed the back of his neck

You avoided his gaze and muttered a quick “thanks” then quickly tried to leave the kitchen area

He shouted so loud at u

You were so scared that u immediately set your foot down to turn to look at him

“Wtf Kihyun why are u shouting for no damn reason”

And that’s when u realized it

You damn feet was bleeding

From stepping all over the broken pieces on the floor

He forgot all about the awkward tension and was fuming again

Constantly scolding u

While he naturally picked u up bridal style to his room

“Istg ur so dumb y/n”

He was spitting out any scoldings he can think of as he gently set u down on his bed

As he painfully pluck a few tiny shards that stuck to the bottom of ur feet

You screamed rly loud clutching at his sheets

“Ow my ears shut the hell up u dinosaur I already took all the shards out”

And u were like “really ? u sure” bc u swear u still felt Smtg

He just rolled his eyes as he applied ointment

His bed was so soft u gradually fell asleep

And when u did Kihyun finished wrapping your feet w/ a cloth-like bandage

And he unintentionally stared at ur sleeping figure

His heart started beating again

He sighed as his heart rate constantly increased

He went to clean the kitchen floor up and came back exhausted

You woke up to a softly snoring Kihyun and ur heart beat so quickly

You turned to face him

But once u did the creaking bed woke him up

You blushed so hard

And push the blankets over your face

Kihyun chuckled and unconsciously started petting your head

Bc he was sleepy and thought it was a dream

“Why do u have to act so cute”

“Why is my heart doing this weird thing”

And then u were just like wUt

Were u dreaming too

When the both of u are actually fully awake y’all realized that he actually just confessed

In the most adorable way ever

And boom! y’all became a thing

Hangouts were so different now that u were dating him

You guys tried your best to hide it at first

But when a sudden “hey babe hand me a pepperoni pizza” slipped outta ur mouth

Everyone just stared at u like wtf

Since when were u dating someone in the room

Kihyun glared at u so hard (like he usually does when u do some clumsy things)

Everyone thought u were taking to jooheon bc y’all always mess around

But he gave the “no wtf I’m curious too” sorta face

And Kihyun just face palmed and told the members

They were really surprised

Like huh we thought y’all wanted to kill each other

And the two of u were like “yea we thought so too”

But u realized how cute he was

And how he realized u were an actual teddy bear

The rest of the members just stared at y’all and gave u a deadpanned face

And jooheon just bursts out “ew stop being so gross around us”

So after that day all the other hangouts became you and Kihyuns “lazy dates”

You would just cuddle up to him on the couch and watch Netflix

The members were so weirded out by it at first but then gradually got used to it

And accepted the fact that one second y’all would want to kill each other and the next y’all would be so cuddly and soft tgt

It was weird but so so cute

Because even when u do some stupid shit that gets Kihyun angry

He’d say in the angriest way

“Why do always do stupid shit like that”

“Stop making me worry”

“Stop being so damn clumsy”

While u mutter an apology he’d mutter back “and stop acting cute while doing clumsy shit”

He’s soooo cute

When he actually speaks his mind

Instead of giving you a cold and chic sorta compliment

Like if it’s actual sweet talk

He’d tell it to u but be blushing so damn hard

His ears went completely red and he told u

“Come sleep next to me I miss u”

It’s so funny bc he tries to say it in a cool way but he’s a complete soft mess on the outside

Y’all would always fall asleep in each other’s arms

He would always sing softly before the both of u fell asleep

Or softly have a conversation about anything that comes to your minds

SUGGESTIVE TIME

SO THE FIRST TIME happened exactly like this

Y’all fell asleep in each other’s arms

And when u woke up u felt his morningwood

Like at first u blushed real hard bc u didn’t expect to catch him like this so early on in the relationship

But after a while u felt mischievous and a little too horny

So u slowly and quietly pull the blankets down

As u tried to give him a morning blowjob

When he felt you licking his tip he’d bounce up

Then he saw u and blushed so hard

“B-baby what are y-you doing”

You loved seeing him so shy omg

So u just got even more playful and teased him

Getting him all riled up

He’d be so soft with u

“A-are you sure?”

You wouldn’t answer just continued sucking him off

And his moan omagodd

So heavenly

It was music to your ears

You would tease him sm just so u can hear his beautiful voice

I’d say he’s a switch but mostly bc he just lets u take control

You’re so good at what u do and it makes him fall for u so hard

You would ride him as he grips the side of your hips

You always know when he’s about to come undone bc he’d thrust up to u so hard and so good

And what’s amazing is that you always come tgt

You dont know if it was a coincidence or not

Bc he never told u

But he held back sm just so u could cum w/ him

He finds it so intimate and his stamina and endurance is so so strong

BACK TO FLUFF

The first time he told u he loved u was when he took you to take a bath after a particularly rough night

Like when he was in control for once

U were so stunned that night and enjoyed the deep intimacy

He kissed every spot of your body after washing down the soap that slid off your smooth skin

was this considered suggestive if it was s0rrY

ANYWAYS yea he continued doing that and then looked u in the eyes

“You’re so beautiful y/n”

“I love you so much you know that right?”

You just melt everytime he says smtg sweet to u

Bc he hardly does

And when he does it’s beyond sweet

Like he’s so good with his words

And that voice of his ughh

Overall he’s a boyfriend w/ many hidden charms

And u can see he’s genuinely so happy around u

Even when he’s pointlessly scolding u for ur clumsy ministrations

He has this sorta happy vibe bouncing off him

The rest of the members sees it bc it’s so obvious

They can’t help but ship u guys sm

Even tho they hate y’all

Bc y’all loud and always arguing

You guys are literal polar opposites

But fit so well together

It’s like u found your missing half

Who knew your missing half was actually the mom-like Kihyun that yelled at ur clumsy ass every second of every day?

———

• this one was a long one whoops hehh •

• and I’m feeling soft wtf •

• this is the ultimate dream relationship here •

• also tmi but currently studying for my Friday finals wish me luck guys it’s my last one 😩 •

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lailaliquorice · 5 years ago

Text

you were made to become a sanctuary

The second of seven anon requests, and this was actually sent in by two people! The prompt is “Is that blood?” “...No?” and anon #2 asked for aragon and boleyn, which was what I’d planned anyway so I was v happy!

alternate title: THE SOFTEST ARAGON YOU HAVE EVER SEEN

honestly I love the aragon and boleyn mother/daughter duo so damn much. this has vulnerable aragon and boleyn angst so might just be one of my favourite oneshots yet. that’s all I have to say bc it’s nearly 10pm and I haven’t had dinner yet due to wanting to finish this first lol

tw for blood (obvs lol) and indirect mentions of needles

Despite the fact that Aragon had been a mother longer than anyone else had been, she wasn’t the chief ‘mum friend’ out of the group. That title belonged very firmly to Jane, who never failed to look after them all whenever they needed someone to mother them. From the usually sceptical Cleves who accepted the help while only pretending not to need it, to the very willing Kat who had been in obvious need of a maternal figure from the second she was reincarnated. And Jane was the perfect person to provide that for them all.

But that didn’t mean that Aragon wasn’t the motherly type. She had raised her daughter for fifteen years before her divorce so knew a thing or two about mothering teenagers, meaning that both Jane and Kat had come to her for advice that the two couldn’t take from each other. She knew how to read expressions like words and could always tell when someone was unwell or upset or just needed someone to check in with them. Perhaps she wasn’t as much of an outward mother hen as Jane was, but that didn’t mean she didn’t feel that sort of care towards her younger queens.

As a result, all her alarm bells were sent ringing at the sound of someone stumbling over the doorstep very late one night.

The sound of quiet cursing told her it was Anne, which made sense since she’d gone out after the show to meet with a historian and had told the others not to wait up for her. It was only by chance that Aragon was still awake herself – she’d lost track of time while reading – but she was immediately very glad that she had been as she hurried out of the kitchen towards the front door. Anne was holding onto the doorframe as she clumsily pulled her shoes off, and she would have almost fallen a second time if she hadn’t managed to catch herself on the chest of drawers.

“Are you drunk?” Aragon asked, watching her through concerned eyes.

Anne shook her head, seeming slightly off though Aragon could tell she was trying desperately to play it off. “No, ‘m fine. Just a bit tired,” she insisted, walking past Aragon into the kitchen.

But there was definitely something wrong, Aragon realised as she scrutinised her carefully. A slight limp in her walk, one arm held stiffly to her side, the dazed look in her eyes. She was about to follow Anne when out of the corner of her eye she noticed a dark smear on the doorframe she was sure hadn’t been there before. After casting a quick glance towards Anne to make sure she wasn’t looking she went over to take a closer look, and her stomach dropped when she realised what she’d originally thought was just dirt was actually crimson.

She didn’t say anything as she rushed back into the kitchen and grabbed Anne’s wrist without explanation. Sure enough, there were red stains on her fingertips which confirmed Aragon’s fears. “Is this blood?” she asked, eyeing her intently.

“…No?” Anne answered vaguely, not meeting Aragon’s gaze.

“Anne, please,” Aragon said, refusing to let go of her in case she tried to run off. “This is blood, isn’t it?”

There was a second where she thought Anne was going to deny it again, before her lower lip trembled and she gave a shallow nod. “Yeah,” she whispered, suddenly looking incredibly small.

Aragon’s expression softened at the pitiful sight of her, relaxing her grip on Anne’s wrist as she led her over to the table. “Sit down and let me see,” she ordered gently, waiting with arms outstretched in case Anne needed the support as she sat before pulling up her own chair.

Anne was quiet as she pulled off her jacket, and it was hard for Aragon not to recoil in horror as she saw the deep cuts in Anne’s shoulder from which dark blood flowed sluggishly over pale skin. The pained wince on her face was unmissable as she pulled up her skirt to reveal similar wounds on one knee which the material had stuck to. And when she looked at Aragon for the first time, she saw the shallow graze over one eyebrow which had been hidden by her hair until then.

“I was walking home from the pub where I met the historian and someone grabbed me,” she began without Aragon needing to prompt the story out of her. “I dunno what he wanted, me or my purse probably. Kicked him in the balls to make him let go, but when I tried to go he smashed a bottle and hit me over the shoulder with it, then pushed me over where all the glass was. I just got up and ran the rest of the way home.”

A few tears had rolled down her cheek as she spoke and her breathing had quickened with panic, prompting Aragon to lean forwards and take her hands gently. “Breathe, Anne, you’re home and safe now,” she said, giving Anne a reassuring smile as Anne nodded and inhaled deeply through her nose. “There you go. Now hold tight for a moment while I fetch a few things.”

Anne nodded again, and Aragon squeezed her hands before getting up and heading for the medicine cabinet. She was always grateful in times like these that Jane liked to keep it so well stocked, since the first aid kit was practically overflowing with antiseptic wipes and plasters of all shapes and sizes. After a thought occurred to her she paused in her rummaging to flick the kettle on, and when she sat back down at the table she handed Anne a mug of hot chocolate before laying her medical supplies over the table.

“Drink that, it’ll help with the shock,” she said, giving Anne a knowing smile before she got to work.

A look of confusion crossed Anne’s face as she sniffed the contents of her mug, but it was followed by a tiny smile as she took a sip. “You think of everything,” she quipped in a fragile voice, and Aragon couldn’t help but give a short huff of laughter.

There was mostly silence between them as Aragon cleaned up the gashes on Anne’s knee and down her shin from where she’d landed on the pavement littered with glass shards. Aragon gave herself a moment of relief when she cleaned the grit away and found no glass lodged in any of the cuts, murmuring frequent apologies as Anne flinched away from the sting of the antiseptic. After securing a large square of gauze dressing, she got Anne to turn her chair slightly so she could work on her shoulder.

A thoughtful hum escaped her as she surveyed the circle of deep cuts, noting with growing concern how they were still bleeding profusely and staining her once-white vest top scarlet. “I think you might need to get stitches put in these,” she said quietly.

She felt Anne’s shoulders tense beneath her hands, before she relaxed with a sigh. “Ok,” she said with a nod, looking back at Aragon with a resigned smile. “Are we going now?”

“Yes,” Aragon nodded, getting to her feet first and offering her hands to help Anne stand.

Her support quickly turned out to be well needed when Anne stood up on her injured leg and immediately cursed loudly in agony. Aragon’s arms shot out to catch her as she stumbled over sideways, hopping on her other leg as she fought to regain her balance. “Swear it wasn’t hurting this much when I was running home,” she muttered, letting out a breathless and obviously pained laugh.

“That was probably the adrenaline,” Aragon pointed out, pulling Anne’s arm over her shoulders and putting the other hand on her waist to take as much of her weight as she could. “Come on, let’s get you into the car.”

“Hold up,” Anne said, leaning over to snag the keys off the hook before grabbing onto Aragon’s shoulders again and letting her help her out to the car.

After getting Anne into the passenger seat, an activity that made Aragon wish she had Anna’s strength to just lift her in, they were off to the hospital. Their time in the waiting room was spent with Aragon sat in one chair and Anne laid across about four with her head in Aragon’s lap, and Aragon didn’t even realise she’d started playing with Anne’s hair until Anne let out a happy hum as she relaxed under her touch. Aragon stilled for a second, suddenly afraid of something she couldn’t quite put her finger on, before Anne pouting up at her prompted her to continue.

A voice calling out “Miss Boleyn,” ended the moment between them, and Aragon just smiled down at Anne before helping her to her feet again.

They were taken into a treatment room where thankfully Aragon had an extra pair of hands to help Anne up onto the bed. The doctor quickly confirmed Aragon’s suspicion that stitches were required, and the question if Anne wanted pain relief as the stitches were put in was met with a “Yes” so quick that Aragon had to roll her eyes in both amusement and exasperation.

Anne was sat on the bed facing Aragon as the stitches were put in, holding the gas and air mouthpiece in one hand and clinging onto Aragon with the other. Her scared eyes scarcely left Aragon’s face as the doctor worked, with Aragon murmuring quiet encouragements every time she flinched a little during the procedure. Once everything was finished and the graze on her forehead had been looked at too, they were sent home with instructions on when to change the dressings and an appointment booked in a week’s time to get them removed.

“Catalina?” Anne whined as Aragon attempted with difficulty to get her out of the car once they were home; the painkillers had gone to her head and made her a little loopier than usual. “Catalinaaaaaaa?”

“What is it Anne?” Aragon asked as she finally managed to get Anne onto the driveway, shutting the car door before leading her into the house. The words alone might have come across as fed up, but there was a fond look in her eyes and note of amusement in her voice upon hearing her Spanish name as she helped Anne through the doorway.

Anne was quiet as she watched Aragon take her shoes off. Aragon was beginning to think she’d forgotten her question altogether when she spoke again, looking up at her through wide eyes. “Do you love me?”

The question made Aragon pause for a split second, the same misgivings she’d had in the hospital waiting room flooding back, before she saw the hope in Anne’s face and relaxed. From how they’d started out after their reincarnation, their relationship had grown and changed until Aragon was finding herself thinking of her like she had once thought of her Mary without even realising it. Sometimes that realisation scared her; it wasn’t only the guilt at essentially replacing her daughter, but the fear that something would take Anne away from her in the same way she’d once lost Mary. But, if her second chance was going to be worth anything, she was determined to leave those ghosts firmly in her past.

“I do,” Aragon finally answered just as Anne’s eyes dropped, and she felt her misgivings melt away at the sight of Anne’s grin. “Like you’re my own daughter. And I’m sorry I don’t show it more often.”

Aragon didn’t know how Anne managed it without tripping over her own feet in her inebriated state, but barely a second passed before she had Anne’s arms around her neck in a tight hug. “Thanks mum,” she whispered in Aragon’s ear.

Tears pooled in Aragon’s eyes upon hearing the word she hadn’t heard in nearly five hundred years. Anne’s sudden sway pulled her from her shock and she wrapped her arms around the younger girl’s back, too touched to feel any shame as Anne watched her shed a happy tear.

#six the musical #six the musical fanfiction #six the musical fanfic #anne boleyn #catherine of aragon #laila's writing

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lolainslackss · 6 years ago

Note

Numbers 2 or 8 feat high school Andriel au bc I cant get enough of my two sons 😫

02. i sit at the rental booth at our local ice rink and watch you teach children how to skate

Neil lines up the three pairs of skates so that the blades clack metallically against the countertop. The tallest kid hands him a note to cover the rental charges and then passes the skates to his friends as Neil counts out his change with shivering fingers.

Abby and Wymack have given him this tiny electric heater that he keeps under the counter but even if he keeps it on for his entire shift, he never manages to thaw. That said, the rental booth isn’t the worst place he’s ever worked. Despite the cold (and the cheery looping of the same holiday songs), it’s easygoing. He enjoys the sounds - the echoey voices and the soft scratching of skates against the rink - and he enjoys the steaming mugs of tea Abby brings him every hour. He likes that Wymack isn’t too strict, which means he can spend his shifts catching up on homework. He also likes the decades-old decorations they excavate from some dark basement room every year; he can remember the crooked, artificial tree and the dimly-glowing rainbow of lights strung around it from when he came ice skating as a kid. Of all the jobs he could have taken at the rink, the rental booth is fine. He would have rather taken on an assistant instructor role, but even though he’s nimble on his feet when he’s on dry land, he’s an accident-prone nightmare on the ice. So that was that ruled out.

“Enjoy,” he murmurs half-heartedly as he hands the kid a stack of loose change. The boy looks at the two girls and they all grin, clearly amused by some private joke or other.

“We always do,” one of the girls says. They’ve already changed into their skates and now their snow boots are wet and drippy on Neil’s counter.

“Mr. Minyard is the best,” the other girl adds.

“So funny,” the boy agrees.

Minyard, Neil thinks, as they totter towards the rink. Surely not that Minyard.

He shrugs and puts their boots away, but he’s still preoccupied by that name. He sits next to a Minyard in school: Andrew. They have calculus together but they’ve never said a word to each other. Andrew sits in stony silence throughout their class, not doing much at all, while Neil furiously scribbles away. He doesn’t seem to do badly, though. In fact, his scores are nearly as good as Neil’s own (Neil takes a peek every now and then, when he’s sure Andrew isn’t looking). He can’t imagine Andrew teaching kids how to skate. From what Neil knows firsthand, and from what he’s heard from other kids at school, Andrew isn’t very friendly or patient. In fact, some of the kids at school are deathly afraid of him.

Neil frowns and tries to focus on his homework, but he’s too distracted. He checks to see if there are any more customers around and hops over the booth counter when he sees there aren’t. The sounds of skates swishing against the ice gets louder as he approaches the rink. He’s not sure what’s really driving his curiosity, but he can’t shake away the need to know. He peers through the plexiglass and sure enough, there he is: Andrew Minyard. Five feet flat and perfectly balanced on the ice. There are around twelve kids congregating around him, laughing hysterically. Andrew, straight-faced, folds his arms across his chest and says something. They all laugh again. Neil tilts his head to the side and watches. Andrew sends away the more confident skaters to practice travelling backwards around the perimeter of the rink and stays in the centre to teach the more wobbly skaters to do figures-of-eight on the ice. He looks calm as he instructs them, gentle in his guidance. It’s a strange image to apply to the disinterested and cold-looking Andrew Minyard he knows from class.

“Wesninski,” Wymack barks, yanking him back to the real world. “You’ve got customers. I don’t pay you to stand around.”

Andrew looks over when he hears Wymack yelling and his and Neil’s eyes meet briefly. Aside from a glimmer of recognition, Andrew doesn’t give anything else away. Neil makes a mental note to ask him about it on Monday, and then jogs back to the rental booth - and the disgruntled customers waiting for him - with a forced and cheery smile plastered on his face.

…

Monday morning. Calculus. Andrew Minyard comes in just before the bell rings and plonks down into his seat without sparing Neil a glance. Their teacher immediately starts droning on, so Neil doesn’t get a chance to talk to Andrew until they’re given their exercises.

“So, how long have you worked at the rink?” Neil asks, tapping his pencil against his notepad.

“Couple of weeks,” Andrew says with a shrug, doodling a fat cat in the margins of his own notebook.

“I work there too,” Neil tells him uselessly.

“I noticed,” Andrew says with a small snort. “You were spying on me.”

“I wasn’t- I just-” Neil returns his mocking look with a glare. Andrew looks so different from when he was helping the kids at the rink. He looks harder at the edges. “I was just curious to see who the new instructor was.”

“Well, now you’ve found out. Hope you’re thrilled.”

“You don’t seem like the type.”

Andrew looks amused. “That’s presumptuous.”

“Yeah, well,” Neil mumbles, shrugging. “Maybe you should put as much effort into your calculus as you do at the rink.”

“You’re very bold this morning.”

“You’re a confusing person,” Neil admits.

“Don’t hurt yourself trying to figure it out,” Andrew says. “I can make it simple for you.”

Neil looks at him questioningly.

“At the rink, I get free blue raspberry slushies. You know, because I work there,” Andrew says, conspiratorially, as if he’s telling Neil a secret. “In calculus, though? Not so much.”

Neil blinks, nonplussed. “You’re messing with me.”

“Who knew you were so easy to mess with.”

“So, what’s the real reason?”

“I like it,” Andrew says plainly. “Is that the answer you were hoping for?”

Neil just shrugs. He feels annoyed. Like the conversation is a game that he’s somehow lost. He flips the page vigorously and somehow ends up gouging a papercut into the side of his finger. A blob of red blood beads, quivers and then spills.

He instinctively blots the cut with a sheet of paper from his notebook before noticing that Andrew is pulling a pack of wet wipes and a beat-up box of band-aids out of his bag.

“It’s just a papercut,” Neil protests.

“Just a papercut,” Andrew parrots darkly. “Even tiny cuts can get infected.”

“Fine,” Neil concedes, placing his hand on the desk in between them.

He watches as Andrew carefully dabs the cut before firmly wrapping the band-aid around it. His touch causes Neil’s heart to trip up in his chest. He brings his free hand to his forehead; he hopes he’s not coming down with something.

After Andrew’s done, he drops Neil’s hand as if it’s a pebble of coal burning hot from a fire. Neil mutters a thank you and the rest of the class passes by without incident or, indeed, another word.

…

Saturday. Very early afternoon. Stark white daylight washes over the town, but it’s ephemeral. Soon, the sky will purple and brood. It’s the busiest time at the ice rink and Neil’s been dealing with a constant queue of customers all day.

Eventually, he’s left alone long enough to sit down and take a look at his English essay. He writes exactly one sentence before the commotion begins. A cluster of kids waddle toward him, teetering on their skates. They look worried.

“Mr. Minyard fell on the ice,” one of them announces.

“His knee just like, started spurting blood everywhere!”

“Don’t exaggerate, Tommy!”

“What? It did!”

Neil swears under his breath and bends down to retrieve the first aid kit. Wymack had made him take a first aid course after he’d been offered the job. He’d said he liked everyone at the rink to know how to take care of someone who took a spill on the ice. Luckily, he has never had to use it. Until now.

Neil follows the kids to the edge of the rink. Andrew is trying to undo his laces, but keeps needing to stop in order to press down on his bleeding knee. His pale fingers are smudged red. When Neil looks across the rink, he sees the splatter of crimson where he must have fallen.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have worn your trendy, ripped jeans to work today,” Neil deadpans, crouching down to take a look at Andrew’s cut.

“Shut up,” Andrew says, shooting him an unimpressed look.

“I will,” Neil says, “but only if you let me take a look at that.”

He nods at Andrew’s hands, which are clasped tightly over his knee. Andrew’s expression doesn’t change, but something in his body language shifts as he slowly undoes his hands and lets them fall to his sides.

“Just there,” he says, pointing to his knee. He leans back against the plexiglass wall and closes his eyes.

Neil nods, not really understanding. He makes sure to clean and dress the wound without touching Andrew anywhere but his knee. It’s a relatively shallow cut so it’s easy enough to patch up, even when there are a bunch of kids watching him work, holding their breath.

When he’s done, Andrew’s eyes flutter open. Some colour has returned to his cheeks. Neil smiles at him encouragingly.

“Go get Andrew a blue raspberry slushie,” Neil instructs one of the kids.

“I’m not in shock,” Andrew grumbles, annoyed.

“Didn’t say you were,” Neil replies. “This is just, I don’t know, my treat.”

“What a treat,” Andrew says sarcastically, getting to his feet. “A freebie from the cafeteria.”

“How’d you fall?” Neil asks, just as Andrew is about to get back on the rink and skate away from him.

“Wasn’t paying attention,” Andrew says, looking annoyed at himself.

“Oh well,” Neil says. “Could have been worse, right?”

Andrew just holds his gaze for a second or two and then glides away.

…

Neil slams his locker and startles when he sees Andrew standing right next to him, sucking the remnants of a slushie, his lips tinted blue.

“What?” Neil asks.

“Nothing,” Andrew replies, tossing the plastic cup in the trash.

“Okay,” Neil replies, confused. “You’re finished too?”

Andrew just nods, sitting down on the bench across from Neil and studying him carefully. His look makes Neil feel twitchy and at the same time makes his insides lurch as if he’s on a rollercoaster.

“Uh, are you heading home then?” Neil goes on.

Andrew shrugs. “You?”

“Kind of have to,” Neil replies, tugging on his parka and switching his fingerless gloves for mittens. “It’s Hanukkah. If I’m not there when the candle’s lit, my mom will kill me.”

“Okay,” Andrew says, considering this. “And what will she do if you sneak out after?”

Neil huffs a laugh out of his nose and shakes his head. “Then she’ll turn me over to my dad to kill me.”

“Is there any situation where you meet up with me tonight and don’t end up dead?”

“I- Well- Why do you want to meet up with me?”

Andrew looks at him as if to say, are you serious? Neil tugs at his scarf, feeling warmth for the first time in weeks.

“You,” he starts, not sure how to finish. “You’re nothing like how they say you are, are you?”

“Who’s that?”

“The kids at school. They think you’re scary.”

But he’s not, Neil thinks, his mind flooding with images of Andrew on the ice, reaching for some little girl’s hand as she’s about to stumble. Of Andrew taking care of his stupid papercut even though he didn’t have to.

“I don’t care what they think,” Andrew says.

“Where will you be?” Neil asks, changing the subject. “Tonight?”

“Around.”

“Your parents won’t mind?”

“Bee is a very lenient guardian.”

Neil doesn’t waste his time trying to untangle his thoughts. He knows what he wants to do.

“I can sneak out,” Neil tells Andrew, slinging his backpack over his shoulder.

“Good,” Andrew says.

They walk down the corridor in silence, eventually passing the empty rink and a suspicious-looking Wymack. Neil waves goodbye to him and then he and Andrew are outside, surrounded by a deeply black night-time that’s being interrupted by the orange glow of the streetlamps. Andrew walks him to his car and then leaves without saying another word, merely tugging on the strap of his backpack and shooting him another one of his looks.

Neil drives home with a grin on his face he can’t get rid of. He can’t wait to see how the rest of the night will turn out.

winter prompts

#winter prompts #fic #aftg #tfc #andreil #aftg fic #tfc fic #still working through these bad boys!#i'm trying to keep them short and sweet but aaaaaa #i overthink too much #I love writing high school andreil tho #ty for the prompt anon!#:')#prompt fills

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dreamss-of-boston · 6 years ago

Text

Healing

After SnK chapter 115 (Support), Reader discovers Hanji and Levi washed up on the riverbank.

Warnings: A tiny bit of swearing, descriptions of wounds, lots of blood (you know why), SPOILERS - DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE NOT CAUGHT UP ON THE MANGA

link on AO3!

this is deadass some therapy i whipped up post-115, in which the reader takes care of both hanji and levi bc i can only see them suffer so much. im not sure if im gonna make this a mini-series with eventual levi x reader, but we shall see! pls don’t think of this as me trying to re-write canon, this is only a little day-dream i had of what might have happened post-115.

Your home by the river was warm inside. Since it was raining, it gave you an excuse to start a fire. You were planning on doing laundry today, but with the terrible weather, that was no longer an option. The rain pattered against the roof as you sat, nestled in a blanket by the crackling fire while your stew cooked in front of you. Your home smelled delicious; you wished your family was here with you, but your father and mother had to travel far into town in order to settle a debt with the bank. So, it was just you for the rest of the week; you and the other animals in your little farm.

You glanced out the window, dismayed to find that it was still raining steadily. The clouds had cleared up maybe two hours prior, just for a little while, and then it had gone right back to raining. You had hoped it would have stopped raining to give you enough time to go out and re-stock the hay to feed the cow, but it looked like you would need to brave the cold and wet today to feed Bessie.

She sniffed at you interestedly as you stuffed fresh hay into her feeding bin. You rubbed her snout affectionately, smiling as she leaned up to meet your hand. The chickens were clucking away, and you looked in their coops to find that there weren’t any eggs today. You sprinkled some feed on the ground for the chickens, and when the cold started to get to you, you decided it was time to get back inside.

As you turned to go back into your house, something very dark and hairy had appeared on the bank of the river since you last looked at it. You squinted, trying to get a better look at what it was; an animal? But it was so big…

You hesitated a moment; it was potentially dangerous, investigating this situation. While you didn’t live in a city let alone a town, you had still heard the news of how dangerous the world was right now. Still, something in your gut told you that something was off. With a deep breath, you began to cautiously approach the river bank.

As you got closer, you saw brown and black hair, and dark green cloth, and then - the insignia of the Survey Corps. That really surprised you; after confirming that these were indeed humans, being pushed against the side of the bank by the current, you hurried down to them, mud and rain caking your boots and dress.

“Hello?” You said cautiously as you got closer. You reached out a hand, only to have a hand grab back. With a yelp, you pulled back, but the other person’s grip was too strong. You looked at them, their face finally visible, surprised to find a person with dark brown hair and glasses staring at you wildly.

“Help me carry him.” They demanded, and before you knew it, you were hauling the man with black hair up the bank and towards your home.

“Um-- I have shelter,” you offered meekly, not entirely sure why you did. These people just seemed desperate, and you wanted to help. The brown-haired soldier said nothing, just kept glancing behind them as if someone were following them, and they were pushing you to move at a quicker pace despite your obvious struggle. You weren’t the strongest, and carrying a whole human person (even with help) was a challenge. Still, you made it to your front porch in record time, and you flung the door open, closing it just as quickly to prevent any more rain getting into the house.

Without even consulting you, the brown-haired soldier had pushed the little vase sitting on your kitchen table to the floor, hauling their friend onto the wooden surface. It wasn’t until he was laying on his back that you saw that his entire face and body was covered in blood and shrapnel. It was unlike anything you’d seen before-- and you and your mother had been doctors during the titan raids. You had helped clean up soldiers’ wounds and carried corpses to be burned or buried; but this man before you was a sight to say the least.

“The lights!” The soldier hissed, snuffing out your candles one by one.

“What-- why?” You asked incredulously, although you helped extinguish the candles, as well.

“We’re being followed-- get down.” They ordered, pushing you to the floor as they crouched down with you. You did as they said, although you were sure to explode with a flurry of questions in a moment. Any inclination you had to speak was silenced soon enough, though; the unmistakable sound of horses hooves thundering towards your home froze you in place, and you shared a worried glance with the brown-haired soldier. Their jaw was set with a strong resolve, though you could see the flickering of panic within their gaze. You glanced at the fire as the horses came closer; would that give away the hint of life?

Without thinking too much, you quickly pulled the soaked green cloak off the soldier's back, and crawled towards the fire. You smothered it quickly, thankful you had more matches and firewood so that once this was over, you could continue cooking your stew. Turning back to the soldier, they nodded to you appreciatively as the horses inevitably came to a stop just outside your home. You heard Bessie moo at the new arrivals, and followed the soldier as they crawled under the table.

You always kept the curtains drawn closed whenever you were home alone; you silently thanked your past self for doing that without thinking. There were voices outside; you didn’t recognize any of them, but to the person beside you, they meant danger.

“How could we have lost them?” One man exclaimed.

“Shit, we’ll really get our asses handed to us.”

A pause. Some shuffling.

“Do you think anyone’s home?”

A knock on the door.

“Hellooooo?”

More waiting.

“Maybe we can take some eggs for the road?”

“They must be gone for the day. Plus, I don’t think they’d be able to haul him all the way up here alone. We’d see the blood.”

Another moo from Bessie.

“Let’s keep going. Maybe there’s a town further down…”

The voices faded and the sound of galloping hooves resumed, this time fading in the other direction as the group made their way further downstream.

You gave it a moment before you crawled out from under the table, putting your hands on your hips as the soldier crawled out after you. They immediately began inspecting their friend, who was currently bleeding out on your table. You gathered that he was in a serious condition, if not already dead. So, you bit back all of your questions as you rushed into your mother’s and father’s room to retrieve their medical supplies.

“I’m a doctor-- I’ve worked with soldiers before.” You explained as you began cutting away sopping wet clothes-- drenched in either rain or blood-- bit by bit. The soldier stepped back, obviously relieved as you began to work. Before you knew it, they had re-lit the fire and two other candles, bringing them over to you so that you could better see what you were doing.

You nodded a thank-you, astounded at how many injuries this man had sustained. Porcelain skin was stained red, shrapnel was sticking out of too many places. You began to work on his torso first.

“You’re probably wondering what happened.” The soldier sighed, plopping down into a chair. “Well, first of all-- my name’s Hanji, nice to meet you.” They pushed their glasses up onto their forehead, rubbing their eyes. As you pulled out fragment after fragment, they explained their whole situation to you: the coup, the rogue soldier being kept prisoner by the man you were attempting to fix, the explosion. You listened solemnly, thankful that your work gave you a free pass at not having to respond.

When Hanji finished, you had started cleaning off his face, gently wiping away the blood to reveal the soldier beneath. In the silence, while you stitched up wound after wound, you thought perhaps Hanji had fallen asleep. Your stew bubbled in the distance; once you finished stitching up this particularly long and deep gash across his entire face, you would remove it from the fire. You suspected this man had lost his eyesight in one eye; the cut was rather deep.

“So, who are you?” Hanji asked, much to your surprise.

“(F/N, L/N). Nobody important.” You said with a wry smile, and stood back with a sigh. “Your friend might live… might. I didn’t notice any signs of internal bleeding while I stitched up his torso, but he’s pretty unresponsive. I’m sorry I can’t do more.” You said, and went over to wash your hands in the little basin by the window.

Hanji sighed. “Thank you. You’ll never know how much of a help you’ve been.”

“Who is he, anyway?”

“Humanity’s strongest soldier.” They said, gazing at him solemnly. “And a good friend.”

You nodded, unsure of what to say. “...Do you want some stew?”

Hanji looked at you with a smile. “I’d like that.”

[-]

You told Hanji that if Levi-- they had told you his name while you spoke over dinner-- made it through the night, then he would have a better chance of living. You and Hanji worked together to carefully move him into your bedroom, laying him gingerly on the soft bed. You would prefer it if he bled on your sheets and not your parents’-- Hanji couldn’t thank you enough. Once you found out the two were Survey Corps soldiers, you were more than eager to help.

You were able to give Hanji a cot to sleep on. They used the one your father would take on hunting trips; it was soft, and relatively comfortable. They insisted on sleeping on the floor while you slept in your parents’ bed, and before you settled down for the night, you checked on Levi one last time.

He was breathing a bit more steadily now, and you decided to take that as a rare, good sign that he would live. You wondered for a fleeting moment how he would possibly continue being a soldier after sustaining these kinds of injuries; he would have to be decommissioned, surely. Just as you were about to turn away, his eyes began to open just the slightest bit. You paused, silently encouraging him to open them more. He just stared at the ceiling for a moment, his steel gray eyes focusing on nothing in particular, and then they closed again.

[-]

The next day brought life. The rain had cleared up, and Levi was still breathing. Hanji was relieved beyond all measure; luckily, they hadn't sustained any wounds themselves, but you suspected they were catching a cold after being in the rain and then the river for so long. You had enlisted their help to change Levi into some of your father's warm, dry clothes before settling him into your bed the night before so as to prevent the wounded soldier from getting any sickness.

As you brought a mug of hot tea to Hanji, sitting by your fireplace, they smiled at you warmly.

“Thank you,” they said, taking a sip. “If you ever get to talk to Levi, you should make him some tea. You'll get on his good side.” Hanji chuckled to themselves, and you just smiled politely. It must have been a joke that only they understood.

You did your morning chores as usual, and when the afternoon came, you went to check on Levi again. As you sat on the bed, inspecting the bandages to make sure no infection had started, Hanji's voice coming from the doorway gave you a start.

“I might need to leave you soon.”

You paused, turning to them in confusion. “This man is in no condition to travel.”

“I know.” Hanji sighed, pinching the bridge of their nose. “I… won't be bringing him with me.”

Clearly, it pained the soldier in front of you to be making this kind of decision. You sensed that they weren't telling you the whole story; there must have been something deeper going on, something dangerous that couldn't be discussed with a civilian like yourself.

You sighed, looking back to Levi, still sound asleep and breathing steadily. You decided you would change his bandages after dinner tonight.

“You've hardly been here a day,” you said cautiously. The thought of this person leaving you with their friend in your care, with the potential of dangerous people on the lookout for him, was daunting to you to say the least. “Wouldn’t you prefer to stay for supper? Maybe you can leave tomorrow--”

“I’m sorry.” Hanji cut you off, crossing their arms. They almost refused to look at you or Levi. “But there are a lot of people out there that need my help; I need to find a way to fix this. Sitting here, hiding here--” they sighed in frustration. You folded your hands in your lap, staring at Hanji’s shoes absently. “I know what I need to do. I know he’d understand…” Hanji came closer to you, and gently placed a folded note on your bedside table. It had Levi’s name written on it, and although you knew neither of these people very well, your heart ached at the tender gesture. Based on the physical wounds on Levi and the scars on Hanji, you knew these two had been through a lot; you could hardly imagine what sort of hell they faced daily. The closest you had ever come to a titan was pulling the corpses of soldiers out of giant decaying bellies.

You stood up, allowing Hanji to sit next to their friend.

“Let me at least make you some tea before you go.” You said as Hanji took hold of Levi’s hand, gingerly holding it as they gazed at his bandaged face. The soldier only nodded, and you turned and left to give them some time alone together.

While the pot of tea warmed over the fire, you gazed outside the window absently. Bessie was chewing on some grass, flicking her tail this way and that while the chickens clucked away. The sky was more vibrant after the rain had wiped everything clean the day before; the sun seemed to be clearer, brighter. As the pot began to boil, you heard Hanji’s footsteps as they emerged from your room, wiping away the vestiges of tears from their eyes.

“I really can’t stay.” They said, pain in their voice.

You bit your lip.

“I’ll take care of him. If you need a horse, there’s a farm not far away from here, maybe two miles east-- the farmer, his name is Ernst, tell him that I sent you and maybe he’ll give you a deal--” You said quickly, wringing your hands. This whole situation was painfully ominous. You felt like the fate of the world was in these soldiers’ hands, and all you could do was wipe away the blood from their eyes and bid them farewell.

Hanji placed their hand on your shoulder, giving you a reassuring smile. “Thank you, truly. I doubt anyone will come looking for Levi here.” They pulled on their Survey Corps cloak, which was covered in soot and smelled like fire after you had used it to smother the fire yesterday. Hanji paused, glancing at you cautiously.

“Would I be able to borrow some of your father’s clothes?” They asked quickly, and you blinked slowly at the odd request. “As a disguise; I need to not look like myself if I’m to make it anywhere past your town.”

You bit your lip; clothes were expensive, and your family didn’t have much money. Still, this soldier was indeed very desperate, and given the times they were living in, anything you could do to help was valued beyond measure. With a nod, you once again ventured into your parents’ room, and pulled out some clothes that looked like they might fit Hanji.

When you gave them to the soldier, they smiled and once again thanked you. Once they were changed, they gave you their uniform and told you to burn it just in case anyone came looking. You only nodded, feeling a knot tie itself in your gut. You couldn’t help but get the feeling that you had dug yourself into a situation you wouldn’t be able to get out of.

Hanji thanked you again-- you gave them some bread and cold meat to start their journey. As the soldier left your home, trudging upstream, you turned back to your home, still nestled in the rolling grass by the river. Now, apparently, you were the caretaker of humanity’s strongest soldier.

#snk #shingeki no kyojin #snk fanfiction #levi ackerman #levi ackerman fanfiction #hanji zoe #hange zoe #levi x reader #snk 115 #snk spoilers

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ixeliema · 5 years ago

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Okay this is going to be pretty personal and potentially triggering so I'm leaving that here at the top. I'm going to be discussing depression and self harm here and I will tag accordingly. I will not be specific or speak of it in detail because a lot of people read posts like these at their lowest points and it does nothing but hurt already very troubled people to read.

These bubbles are covering an injury I inflicted upon myself at work today after my manager called me in to a meeting with him to speak about the amount of missed days of work I'd taken in the last two-three weeks.

How it happened doesn't matter. The only context you need for it is that I missed four days due to a contagious illness and one day due to a stomach bug that had me physically unable to leave the bathroom. I work long hours and in my store's home department. I work hard and never do things 80% or lower at work and it's exhausting at times.

Well...yesterday I had a panic attack that lasted for almost four hours and knew I couldn't work in this state. I had been curling into a ball, screaming, sobbing, (tw) pulling my hair.

I called in and my manager told me we'd need to talk about my missed days. Fine. I accept that. Today I dreaded the inevitable call back and when it happened he told me that two of my customers had filed complaints on me within two days last week.

One I will admit is justified. He was talking about gun issues and complaining that retail stores should sell guns, meanwhile I am from a college that was shot up and I am fucking terrified of guns. I don't mind not selling them. Especially in light of El Paso recently.

The other was a lady who noticed I was sweaty and tired after having to manually enter her discounts for about 25 apparel items because her digital coupon wasn't ringing right and it was a system issue. I had an injury between my fingers at the time and all the typing to fix the prices was pulling apart my scab and I had begun to bleed through my bandage. At the end of the transaction, she made eye contact with me and asked "I'm sorry...are you IRRITATED with me?" I don't remember exactly what I said but I said something like "no ma'am I'm bleeding". Well apparently 'no' means I'm still a bitch who needed reported to her manager.

The first...fine. I was out of line there. I shouldn't have let him goad me on. But the second pisses me off. Not happy because three strikes on my record is cause for termination due to disregard for customer satisfaction. This sucks a lot. But then my manager talks about my missed days and why they happened. I mentioned my sicknesses and cited a literal rule (if you are contagious or having issues with bodily fluids don't come in" at him. Yesterday I told him my situation. I was unable to breathe. See. Anything. I cited my mental illness and told him it was very bad yesterday. He kind of brushed me off. (Which in itself fucking infuriates me bc mental health isn't a goddamn joke!)

Then he told me to evaluate myself and whether or not this job is right for me. I also have a physical injury and I require a brace. Even with it sometimes I have sore days and pain that I can't control due to walking about four to five miles a day at work. It sucks but with the brace I can survive. I need this job to live after all, and I don't mind the coworkers or the job itself. It just sucks when I'm working 48 hours in a row with a lot of mental and physical barriers to my success.

He told me to my face that if I didn't feel I was capable of doing the job to quit. And then he told me he needed someone "more reliable" for the position because of the business' needs.

I kind of broke at that point. And I blacked out into a relapse of my self harm after the meeting was through. I pride myself on two things: my sense of humor even in dark times (comes with the territory of mental illness), and the fact that I strive to be reliable. My manager telling me to my face that I wasn't reliable broke me.

See I would be more understanding if he hadn't just told me that five of my six missed days were perfectly acceptable. But after he learned of the last one amd why he kind of shifted gears. And I hated it very much.

He's worked for x corporation nearly 20 years and no one will question his authority. He works hard and is pretty good with his workers. Honestly he's a little sexist and clearly doesn't think mental illnesses are a big deal, but he's good at what he does. So hearing an authority figure (the type of person I've learned to fear because I'm never good enough) tells me I'm not one of the qualities I fucking FIGHT for...I broke.

But this story isn't why I wanted to post it. Yeah I could rant about the rude manager and the customers and that dumb "customer is always right" mentality (which they could prove wrong if they just looked up the security footage for the rude lady!)

No I'm here because when I got home from working 2-11...bordering tears and panic all day and sweatier than anyone living in Arizona right now...I hopped in the bath for a soak and to give myself time to heal from the long arduous day.

My mind has been full of intrusive thoughts about my worth and how I broke my streak of being clean from self harm and how that makes me a coward. That kind of joyous stuff.

I sat up to get my phone to text my friend and saw that my knee (where my injury is) was covered in bubbles.

I don't know why...but that means a lot to me right now. Like...I'm taking care of myself after probably the worst day I've had since my dad died. I'm taking time to heal. I'm trying to pick up the pieces of my soul after a long and painful day. And it felt like for a moment, the universe understood that looking at my wound hurt me as much as the wound itself hurt. It wanted me to not dwell on it.

Obviously this isn't a magic "I'm no longer depressed" moment but for me, seeing the bubbles...a sign (at least to me) of trying to take care of myself masking the pain of my depression and anxiety.

Today has been a very tough day for me with a lot of manic episodes and a lot of depressive ones, and though I can wear the face that I'm okay...it cracked a lot today and I let my ugly side seep out. And seeing the bubbles covering my wound I deadass cried about it, y'all.

This tells me that even on your worst days, taking care of yourself and trying to find time to recover can help you to heal. And I wanted to post this because I think this story might help someone. Even just one person. Maybe even just myself someday when out of the blue I check my (very small) tag for original posts.

The TLDR of this is that this occurence kind of showed me that taking care of yourself...even in tiny, seemingly insignificant ways, can really help you to not dwell on pain as much.

And before someone hijacks this and says this won't apply to everyone...I know. But I hope someone sees this image of bubbles on a goddamn kneecap and thinks to themselves that they ought to take better care of themselves after a bad day. After a relapse. After feeling so defeated you considered suicide. Consider healing. Consider trying to help yourself, even just in one small way.

That's about all I have to say other than "fuck I work the next three days and I'm not stoked to go fake a smile as a cashier for 27 more hours even if I'm being paid"

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theroundeviloftable · 6 years ago

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Park Ranger

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Soulmate AU

Summary: Y/N and Namjoon live in a soulmate universe where they receive the same injuries that the other does; for example, if one soulmate were to cut their finger, the other would receive the same cut spontaneously a few seconds later, without the initial pain but still with the blood/other physical effects. You can imagine how well this would go for a pair of soulmates where one is just naturally clumsy, and the other works as a tree-climbing obsessed park ranger.

Word Count: 2,391

A/N: so this AU is something I wrote for a different pairing a while ago (its not my AU originally, but I lost the original post I got the AU idea from), but I thought that it would just fit Joon so damn well, so I decided to create this...whatever it is. As always, this has not been proofread at ALL lmao so go easy on me. (Also I know I’ve been MIA for quite some time now...ha ha..don’t @ me bc I will fight)

Enjoy my lovelies!

“Y/N, I think you’re bleeding again...?”

You turned to your left to see your shift partner pointing at your forehead with a questioning look in her eyes. You huffed out a tiny breath and brought your fingers to your forehead, feeling around until you felt moisture right above your left eyebrow. You pulled your fingers away and, sure enough, they were coated with a thin layer of dark red blood. Letting out another, albeit louder, huff, you turned away from your coworker and headed towards the first aid kit.

“You need some help?” She yelled at your retreating figure, but you replied back with a strong “NO”, and continued your 4th trip to the bathroom that day (only one of which had been to actually USE the bathroom), first aid kit in one hand and an ever-growing distaste for your “soulmate” in the other. You hadn’t even been outside at all that day, hadn’t climbed a single tree, hadn’t given a single nature tour to a visiting elementary school group, and yet you already had a shallow cut on your forearm, a bruise on your calf, and now another cut above your eyebrow.

You hoped your soulmate was either a doctor or a tattoo artist because you were going to need some way to cover up all the scars he was responsible for.

~~~~~~~

Namjoon had one of the worst headaches in his life, and all because of his friend, Seokjin.

He was visiting said friend at work, the pair choosing to take a walk around the hospital grounds while Seokjin was on a rare break, and everything was going fine, until the pole. Namjoon had walked face-first into a steel pole, all because Seokjin had failed to warn him it was coming.

“Joon, I told you, I was looking the other way! I swear, I didn’t see the pole, otherwise I would’ve said something and-”

“Jin, please just be quiet.” Namjoon was crouching and had one hand pressed over his left eye that had taken the brunt of the collision with the pole, his head pounding and Jin’s voice bouncing around in his skull doing nothing but amplifying the pain. Seokjin mimicked Namjoon’s position, grabbing his friend’s wrist and slowly pulling his hand away from his eye only to discover that-

“Joon! You’re bleeding! My goodness, how hard does someone have to smack a pole with their face for the skin to break?”

Seokjin began rifling through the pockets of his lab coat to find a bandage, meanwhile Namjoon was groaning and cursing himself for his stupidity. “Jin, my soulmate is gonna kill me! This is the third time today that I’ve hurt myself, honestly I think this is the start of a personal record-breaking day for me.”

The doctor simply chuckled as he peeled the protective backing from an adhesive bandage, pressing it lightly over the cut on Namjoon’s forehead after wiping it with an antiseptic cloth. “Just, when you meet her, make sure you bring her in to see me first thing, yeah?”

Namjoon looked up at Seokjin with confusion written all over his face, the expression making the bandage over his left eyebrow crinkle worryingly. Jin just chuckled again, and tried to clear up his friend’s confusion. “I meant to bring her so that I can work on patching up all those scars she probably has from your clumsy ass.”

“Hey! I’m not that clumsy...” Namjoon rises back to standing straight, but keeps his eyes trained sheepishly on the ground, and Seokjin just joins him standing, laughing brightly and flinging an arm around his friend’s shoulders to usher him forward on their continuing stroll.

Namjoon smiles devilishly and stops rubbing at his bandaged forehead for a moment. “At least I don’t sound like a broken windshield wiper when I laugh.”

Seokjin punches him in the shoulder, hard.

“Jin!! C’mon, I think that left another bruise!”

~~~~~~~

“Y/N, can you take this group out for me?! The supervisor over at the RV station called and said he needed an extra hand over there.”

You stopped your shift partner with your hands on her shoulders, and looked deep into her eyes while you smiled softly. She was obviously panicking, and you wanted to try and calm her down a bit before she had to drive a four-wheeler over to the RV station further in the forest. “Emily, Em, hey look at me for a sec.”

You saw her eyes focus on yours and hold the contact, so you began speaking once more. “I’ll take care of this group, and the rest of the groups for today, so don’t worry about it, okay? Everything will be fine.”

“But, Y/N, your shift is scheduled to end in like, 30 minutes and there are still 3 groups left for tours today and I can make it back for those I just really need help for this one-”

You held up a finger and Emily immediately closed her mouth, following your instructions for her to breathe in a out a few times. You continued to assure her you would take the remaining tour groups out for their nature walks, and Emily was in a much better state of mind as you watched her strap on a helmet and begin her ride to the other park station.

You took a deep breath and patted your hands on the sides of your khaki cargo shorts, scraping off invisible dust, before turning on your heel and exiting the back room of the nature center. Out in the arrival area of the center, you could see the beginnings of a group of school kids, one by one piling off the yellow school bus and practically vibrating with their excitement to go on a hike. The sight brought a small smile to your lips, and you took a moment to grab your ranger hat and re-tie your boot laces before heading out front to greet the school group.

Little to say, that day of tours ended with a slightly twisted ankle (on both you and your soulmate) that resulted from having to stop a kid from slipping off a rock while he was playing in a creek, multiple cameras that held pictures of the “daring park ranger” who had climbed a tree to save a baby squirrel, and a mess of tiny, stinging cuts on your face from climbing said tree that had Namjoon yelling in pain when he went to wash his own face later that night.

~~~~~~~

It had been 2 days since you had received any secondhand bruises, cuts, or scrapes from your soulmate, and you were honestly starting to get a little worried. He usually gave you at least one bruise or bump a day, whether it be a stubbed toe or a certain tender spot on the hip that only comes from impact with a table corner. You were secretly hoping (and this might make you sound a little crazy) for any sort of small pain just to let you know that your soulmate was still alive and out there somewhere.

Finishing tying your hair into a ponytail and brushing your teeth, you slipped on your ranger hat and boots again, prepping to go in for another rewarding, if not tiring, work day. Your stomach grumbled quietly, and you humored it by grabbing an apple from the bowl on the counter on your way out to your car, keys in hand and backpack slung over one shoulder. The apple was already halfway gone by the time you were in the driver’s seat with a hand on the wheel, ready to depart.

You felt something dripping on the arm that was currently holding the apple up to your waiting mouth, and you silently prayed to yourself that the wetness was from leaking juice. You shut your eyes, breathed in deep, and opened them to face whatever reality existed.

You were sure you had been eating a green apple, but the whole upper half was stained red from blood that was currently pouring from a large gash in the center of your hand.

“Shit.”

Your hand shot off the steering wheel and reached over to your bag, groping blindly for any sort of cloth to bind your hand in temporarily while you drove yourself to the hospital. You were sure you needed stitches, and just hoped that the cut wouldn’t hinder any possible, near-future tree climbing opportunities.

~~~~~~~

“Joon? We weren’t supposed to meet today, why are you...oh.”

Seokjin simply raised one eyebrow, unamused, as he surveyed a very sheepish Namjoon with a sock wrapped right around the middle of his left hand. The once white sock was now stained bright red, clearly from something the boy had managed to get himself into once again. Jin had to stop himself from sighing before he motioned to Namjoon to follow him back to the section for emergency patients. He pointed to a clean bed, and Namjoon obediently sat while he waited for Jin to return with what he needed to assess and fix Namjoon’s wound.

However, not even a moment later, a woman was being led to the bed directly next to Namjoon’s, and he craned his neck in curiosity to see what was wrong with her, as she seemed perfectly healthy. It was then that he noticed she was also cradling her left hand to her chest, with what looked to be a bright orange safety vest wrapped carefully around the middle of it. Namjoon was just beginning to notice the clear start of blood seeping over the portions of cloth that were not clutched in the woman’s fist when she turned around from talking to the nurse to sit on her assigned bed.

It was as though Namjoon experienced the moments after while submerged in a jar of honey, everything looking slow and golden. Their eyes met as he looked up from her hand, and he swore he could feel a rush of strong emotion go straight to his heart, squeezing it in a vice. The sound of her voice was muted when she started to speak, but he watched as her eyes flitted to his own sock-clad hand, and then returned to holding his gaze as her eyebrows furrowed in obvious understanding and annoyance.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” Namjoon visibly shook himself out of whatever sort of moment his brain decided to have just then, and looked at the girl with wide eyes. The expression was so comical and endearing that you had to stop yourself from cracking a smile and laughing a bit.

“I asked, how did you get that cut?”

Again, you bit back a laugh as the man before you (who you realized was most likely your soulmate) donned an equally expressive face, this time conveying his embarrassment at having to tell his possible soulmate how he managed to slice open his palm.

“I uh...I, well...” He cleared his throat and adjusted the collar of the button up shirt he was wearing, even though the top two buttons were undone and were nowhere near tight around his neck. “I was..attempting to cut the tag off of a new pair of sunglasses I had just gotten in the mail, and it seems as though I wasn’t meant to use a pair of scissors.”

At that remark, you couldn’t hold in your laughter anymore, and it flowed freely from your lips as you rocked back a little and rested the non-injured hand over your abdomen. Namjoon thought to himself that he had never heard your laugh before, but it was already a sound he wanted to keep on repeat for the rest of his life.

~~~~~~~

“So now I know why I have so many little cuts all over my hands and face all the time!”

You turned to glare down at Namjoon, who was currently pointing up at you accusingly as you continued to climb up a rather tall pine tree. He withered under your glare, and you smirked at the fact that he knew he had caused you just as many injuries, simply because he was a clumsy fucker. At least your injuries were warranted by your job.

He huffed out an indignant breath, and crossed his arms over his chest. “This is just great, my soulmate is goddamn George of the Jungle, and I’m her clumsy ape of a sidekick.”

“You what, mate?” You looked down at Namjoon again as you reached out your hand for a squirrel to jump on your arm (it gladly took the invitation and clambered onto your shoulder without a second thought), and soon there were two pairs of eyes staring down at Namjoon questioningly.

His jaw was almost on the floor when he saw the squirrel on your shoulder. He threw his hands up in exasperation, and began walking away from the tree. “That’s it, I’m done with this.”

You just laughed and expertly navigated the tree branches until you were safely back on the ground, placing the squirrel down and waving at it as it scurried back into a bush.

You called out to Namjoon, who was currently about a yard away from the tree. “Hey, wait up, Joonie, you’ll get yourself into trouble somehow without me there to watch you!”

He turned quickly with a goofy grin on his face, one that he couldn’t stop from spreading at your use of his favorite nickname, and replied, “I’ll be perfectly fine, don’t you worry! I’m not that much of a klutz that I can’t walk a simple hiking trail without-gah!”

Your hand shot out immediately to catch Namjoon’s own to stop him from falling completely on his face. He had tripped. On a stick. It wasn’t even rooted into the ground, just a plain stick lying in the middle of the path.

He looked up at you in mock horror as he saw the self-assured smirk gracing your lips already.

“Aw Joonie, you didn’t need to go through all this trouble to show how much you’re falling for me.”

“Shut up, you’ve been hanging around with Jin too much lately. Your jokes are terrible.”

You simply giggled softly under your breath as you tugged Namjoon into your waiting arms, planting a kiss on the side of his jaw and laughing louder when you saw the tips of his ears turn red.

Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed, and don’t be afraid to like, reblog, and tell me your thoughts/comments! Love you, darlings <3.

#bts fics #namjoon x reader #park ranger au #soulmate au #soulmate injury au #my fics #kim namjoon #bts #bts x reader #bts x you #fluff #sorry not sorry that this happened i live for klutz!joon #klutz!kim namjoon #thank you all for reading #enjoy

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sceawere · 7 years ago

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visits | alfie solomons

fits into the twin!reader verse, i love this ridiculous, dysfunctional couple and i’m so glad to have them home

props if you catch the hiram reference in here bc the kids might not exist yet in this fic but my sweet children

“Alright sweetheart. Could you do something about this?”

That was how you’d answered the door to find Alfie with blood trailing down his arm.

“Oh, for fucks sake” you moaned, dragging him out of the hallway and into the flat.

Your hand stayed gripped in the front of his shirt, dragging him behind as you navigated the way to the kitchen. A glare told him to damn well stay put where you’d left him against the cabinet, and he obliged, moving only to take his coat from over his clean arm and throw it onto one of the chairs.

“What the hell happened?” you questioned, grabbing a clean cloth and wrapping it snug to the wound.

“I had a disagreement with a car window”

You stepped back, wiping your hands off.

“Is that…all?”

“Yeah, no that’s it. That’s all” he replied, holding the cloth secure.

You scowled, confused at the mundaneness of it. Alfie had just…had an accident. No-one had shot him. No-one had tried to set the bakery on fire again. No-one was likely skulking around the corner, waiting to catch him on the way out. He’d just had an accident.

You moved over to the sink, fetching the kettle, and filling it to the brim. Once the gas was lit, which took three tries and a lot of tutting, you made for a chair.

“Wait, did you punch through it, or…?”

“No…” he looked around “Honestly, what happened was, I got locked out. And it’s icy, you see, out there. So, I was having a disagreement with the window, trying to get the bastard to let me into my own damn car”

He enunciated the last three words as though the window was somehow firstly present, and secondly sentient.

“And I slipped on the ice, and in trying not to go arse over tit, I put my hand through the window”

“How hard were you falling, and in what direction? I can’t picture the logistics of this”

“Well, bloody hell, darlin’. I’d draw you a diagram, but you have yet to staunch the bleeding so my arms a bit out of commission”

You rolled your eyes, before jumping up and fetching a clean towel. You threw it at him, grabbing the soiled one, and introducing it to its new home in the fireplace. The kit you needed was in the bathroom, but you hovered in the archway.

“What?” Alfie questioned, eyeing you.

“Nothing”

“You’re staring” he informed you, and you shrugged. The hovering continued.

“Is it unpleasant?” you questioned, head tilting as you squinted back at him.

“The…arm? Yes, greatly. I have glass in it and blood out of it” he raised it where he was cradling it awkwardly at his chest.

“No, the me looking at you”

He stared back, lip rolling under the other as he joined you in the squinting. He leaned forward just a little, as though trying to hear the words you weren’t speaking, and then adjusted on the cabinet edge. He huffed. He opened his mouth to speak. He didn’t.

At some point, you simply walked away. The kit you needed was in the bathroom, and once retrieved, you set to sterilising everything.

“We’re not pretending anymore, Alfie, you don’t have to keep turning up” you reminded him, dipping the tweezers into the roiling water.

“But I was finally enjoying myself” he replied, and you laughed “Honestly, sweetheart, my arm was hanging off”

“Your arm was not hanging off! Sit down!” you pointed to the chair, and he shuffled over.

You took your place, trying to work out a way to do this that wasn’t going to be awkward. You finally settled for whispering a quick ‘fuck it’ under your breath, and half straddled his knee. Your leg stood between his, and your knee on the chair next to his thigh. You needed to bend right over to identify where the tiny flecks of glass had lodged, the window apparently having shattered under his hand. This meant his palm was easy to clean, the area further up less so.

Each fragment clinked as it was dropped into a dish, the only sound apart from Alfie’s measured breathing. Once it was done, and you could escape the hot breath that was trailing against your collar bone, you stepped back. An offer of whisky was made, and half went over his arm before it went into his throat.

“You wanna go out tomorrow?” he asked, after a long period of silence. The tools had been cleaned and returned to their home, the sink flushed out, the arm thoroughly bandaged.

“Out? Tomorrow?”

“Yeah. A real date. Not a fake one. Not that I didn’t have fun nor nothing, but you know, I am a gentleman”

“We fucked in the backroom of a crowded restaurant having known each other like a month, and only then because we were pretending to be already together for a crime boss meeting thing I’m not sure how that is…” you trailed off, gripping the edge of the counter.

“I treated you like a lady, did I not?” he argued, with absolutely no force behind it, and you couldn’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of this entire conversation.

“Well…” you broke out laughing again, and he frowned “No, sorry. Yes. What?”

“You. Me. Tomorrow. An establishment of your choice. Dinner may be eaten, I don’t know, what do you like to do? What will endear me to your fine nature?”

“Botanical gardens”

“Botanical gardens?” he questioned, and you nodded.

“I like looking at weird plants sometimes. They amuse me and confuse me”

“You like to peruse the things that amuse and confuse?”

“I do, Alfred. You know, I jolly well do”

“Well, then. Botanical gardens. Set and sorted” he cleared his throat, a heaving huff of a noise, and laid his head back on the wooden chair.

“Alfred?”

“Yeah, darlin’?” he mumbled.

“You are not going to sleep on my kitchen chair”

“Well, here’s the thing. I don’t know if I can stand up”

You paused, staring at his probably already sleeping form as he fell silent.

“You’re fucking kidding”

“I’m extraordinarily lightheaded, as it goes”

“Oh, shit”

You rushed forward, feeling his skin.

“You’re not clammy, or particularly pale. How much blood had you lost by the time you got to me?”

“Well…a bit” he replied, sounding far away.

You huffed, blowing your cheeks out as you hovered over him. Your eyes ran over the room, and then back to him.

“No date”

“What? No! You agreed, you- “he lifted his head to argue, blinking a few times as he try to flush away the dizziness.

“Not until I’m sure you won’t keel over into a bloody poisonous bush on me, for crying out loud”

You stepped around the chair, gripping the slats, and began dragging him across the tiles. He lurched at the movement, spinning his head round.

“Fucking hell, I thought that was it”

“The bottom has yet to drop out of your world, my dear”

“Oh, that’s nice. You know the first time we met, you called me sweetheart. Right off the bat” he leant his head back, looking up at you.

“It was pretty far in, and I was being sarcastic because you kept calling me ‘darlin’, you complete brick” you argued.

“I’m a brick?”

“Well you lug about like one!” you shouted giving another yank to the chair “No, fuck it. Get up”

He pushed up slowly, cradling his arm. You made sure to stand in front of him, hands pressed at his chest just in case he did lose his footing. His good arm came around your shoulders, and you guided him to the bedroom.

“Well, we’ve done this walk before” he looked up and around the hallway “Why you living in a safehouse?”

“I like the solitude” you replied, lowering him onto the bed “And I had an argument with Tommy at the big house”

“Ah, there it is” he flopped back onto the bed, and you smiled.

“You going to be alright?” you questioned quietly, moving to close the curtains tight. He hummed lightly in response. You helped his toe his shoes off, pushing them under the bed, and grabbed his good arm.

“Come on, get these off”

He groaned as you pulled him up to sitting slowly, carefully removing the shirt off around his bandaged arm. You threw his trousers over towards the general direction of the chair, then thought twice about it and moved to fold them up. He chuckled behind you, the rustle of the sheets letting you know he’d got himself into bed safely.

“You’re getting all domestic on me, aren’t you?” he teased, his good arm perched behind his head when you turned. You cocked a hip, and a brow, and tried to ignore the widening grin.

“Come to bed” he nodded to the empty space beside him.

“Come to bed” he repeated when you didn’t move.

You sighed, licking away the grin you were forming yourself, and grabbed the hem of your jumper.

“And once again, you get me into bed before we go on a real date. Mr Solomons, what would your mother say?” you teased, pulling your stockings off and throwing them off to the side. You moved over and climbed in next to him.

“She’d say ‘goodness, Alfred, don’t I look good for a woman whose been dead for ten years?’ Or something like that. Probably what the fuck is that on your hand, too” he tapped the crown lightly.

“I like it” you traced over the ink with your own thumb, and he folded your hand into his. You rested your head onto his shoulder, and he nuzzled into your hair.

“I know a man with a steady hand if you get the feeling like you want one of your own”

“Oh, thanks” you laughed back.

“Ain’t exactly on the books though is it” he turned his hand, so the ink was front and centre again. You frowned, rolling your neck to meet his eyes.

“Now, I’m not a scholar nor nothing” you mocked his choice of words back to him “but neither’s murder?”

“Oh, I’m not sure about that”

“No?”

“Nah” he shook his head, and you laughed again. He smiled back at you, and you rolled your eyes.

“God, what is it with you, Solomons?”

“I’m just magic, ain’t I?” he shrugged and then flicked his eyes to your joined hands “I think you should get that”

“So do I” you agreed, and he seemed startled that you’d agreed “No, really. I like it”

“Oh, right. Well”

“You should probably marry me first, though. Or something. Be a bit awkward if we’re all matchy otherwise wouldn’t it?”

You turned in the bed, dragging his body with yours as you settled down. You reached with your free hand and pulled the cord above the bed. It went dark, silent as you shuffled into the pillow.

“Was that…are you joking…or?”

“No, not entirely” you decided, and he hummed.

“Because I am in love with you, that’s established, right?”

“Pretty sure I’m meeting you on that”

“You’re- what?”

“I’m in love with you. Probably. Yeah, no, I am”

This was a ridiculous conversation to be having, especially the way you were having it, especially in the dark. But it felt like peak you and Alfie, and somehow that was comforting, even if your heart was starting to leap against your ribs.

The two of you laid in silence for a long time, and you sighed in relief, hoping he wouldn’t remember this when he woke up. You almost jumped out the bed when he spoke again after a solid ten minutes.

“Polly is going to murder me” he murmured, and you turned over your shoulder.

“For what?”

“Roping you in”

“You did what to me?” you questioned, and he huffed a laugh. He lay back and you propped yourself up on an elbow, squinting down at him in what little light there was.

“Yeeeeeaaaaahhhh we’re fucked” he was still grinning.

“Be honest, when did you know?” you asked in a whisper, and he sighed.

“Uhh, when you got drunk at the bakery, and you told me that story about the hedgehog”

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah, up until then I just assumed you were fun and I wanted to, forgive me, sleep with you. But once I got that out my system- “

“You’re truly charming”

“Well, after that, I assumed right, done. Sorted. This’ll go away, and you’ll be your own damn self again but no, there you were, in my every fucking thought”

You rolled your eyes at the way he’d framed that as an accusation, dropping off your elbow, snuggling into his chest.

“And then somewhere in the middle of a drunken babble about you rescuing some poor fucking hedgehog I realised I’d quite like you to stick around and that I sort of…cared about you a little bit”

“Just a bit” you breathed.

“Just a bit. When did you love me, then?”

“When you sent flowers”

He exhaled, scratching his forehead.

“Well, that was it?”

“Yeah”

“Oh, right”

“Got all warm and fuzzy”

“Yeah. That was my intention. Glad that petered out how it did”

You patted his chest, closing your eyes.

“Go to sleep, Alfie”

“Yes, dear”

It was quiet outside, no wind, no rain, no cars. No drunk people stuttering about the street. There was a dog barking off somewhere in the distance, but nothing much else. Alfie’s heart beat steady under your ear, his breath rasping softly.

“Do you have to buy a ticket or something for the botanicals?” he mumbled into the dark.

“I would assume there’s some kind of admission process, yes”

“No, like in advance?” he replied.

You lay there, determined to convince your body it needed to be asleep right now.

“Probably not”

“We can just turn up when we want?”

“Probably yes”

“Right, well. Tomorrow then”

“Not tomorrow. Blood replenishing more important than dating”

“Well, we’ve got to get a certain number in before the big day, don’t we? You can’t just go about marrying people”

“Jesus, fuck, Alfie!” you complained, tired and having confronted some emotionally heavy subjects in a haphazard manner “Sleep. Sleep, please”

“Two of those things, lose the other. I’m not an audience kind of man. Though I suppose if your lot are right, he’s knocking about the place anyway isn’t he?”

You groaned as you rolled away from him, huffing into the pillow when he rolled right over with you.

“That’s not how it works” you whispered.

“I’m not a scholar nor nothing- “

“I will punch you unconscious” you insisted, gripping the pillow tighter.

“Can’t be having that. We’re supposed to cherish each other, isn’t that how it goes?”

#peaky blinders fic #alfie solomons #|writing #peaky blinders imagine

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