#beautiful rec thank you🥺

[kithtaehyung]

I was listening to keshi and his song “less of you” and it’s so 3tan coded. I will now be listening to this as I reread busted :,)

damn…. who tf is cutting onions in here… just the opening lines cut me deep oh my god😭

[urdadsnewgiirlfriend]

❛ i’m telling you all of a sudden, but it isn’t new to me. i love you. ❜ with our boy Steve Harrington please?

i wrote this after watching little women, so this is like that one laurie and amy scene but stranger things coded <3 hope you like it!! (this is 5k words btw and barely proofread 🫣)

The R.V. smells like coopery blood, alternate dimension muck, and nine teenagers who haven’t showered in three days. But despite all that, Steve Harrington is next to you, smiling. 

As if there’s anything worth being happy about now. 

He tells you about a dream with a hopeful gleam in his honey eyes, like he believes it’ll all come true — like death is staring him in the face. “I know it’s silly, but I… I always dreamed I’d have this really, really big family. I’m talking like, uh— a full brood of Harrington’s. I don’t know, five… Maybe six kids?”

“Six?” you repeat with an incredulous laugh. You turn your body in the passenger seat to face him more, shoulder pressing into the worn pleather. You’ve got your brows raised to your hairline in shock at his admission and a beam on your face you don’t realize is there.

“Uh-huh. Six little nuggets. Three girls, three boys,” he says with an assured nod. There’s a distant smile hinting at the edges of his lips, and he looks at you with it for a moment before turning back to the road again. 

“And every summer, I figured all of us Harrington’s, we’d pack into something like this, and… just see the country. You know, the Rockies, the Grand Canyon, maybe Yellowstone. We’d end up in some beachside town in California and spend a week parked in the sand, maybe learn how to surf or something.”

You can picture the dream so effortlessly, almost like it’s one you’ve had yourself. 

In some ways, you did.

Steve Harrington was the kind of boy that filled you with butterflies and childlike daydreams. It was more innocent than lusting, more significant than a teenage crush. There was a time you’d wanted to be with him so badly that you could barely breathe. It kept you up at night, fantasizing about a future with a boy that didn’t want you. It haunted your dreams just as often.

You were, perhaps a bit begrudgingly, a part of that stereotype — a girl who wanted all of the things adults thought girls wanted. You longed for a pretty white dress and a husband that cried when you walked down the aisle. You wanted a small house with a white picket fence, a home that’s always loud with laughing children and barking dogs and loving parents.

It was a future you only wanted with Steve.

But he didn’t love you. Not the way he loved Nancy.

Not the way he still loves Nancy.

It’s not a crime he needs to confess to for you to know he’s guilty of it. You can see it written all over his face, in the way he talks about his future family and flits his gaze from the winding backroad up to the rearview mirror to look at her. He’s picturing her in his head the way you picture him in yours.

Knowing someone else is a part of this dreamt-up family and not you is a bitter pill to swallow.

It has you looking back too, at the gang of ragtag soldiers you’re about to save the world with. You glance over your shoulder at all of them, finding them dozing or outright sleeping in the back of the R.V. 

You don’t blame them. The past few days have been hell.

You’re just glad Max has finally found a moment of peace. The redhead lazes between Lucas and Dustin on the couch in the very back. She rests her head on the former boy’s soldier, but you can’t tell if she’s sleeping or not. Lucas has his eyes closed but a smile on his face as he lays his cheek on the crown of her head.

Dustin, on the other hand, looks dreadfully out of place among the two lovebirds. His head is tilted back and his mouth is wide open. Soft snores spill from his throat.

Erica, Robin, and Nancy all sit at the tiny table beside the tinier kitchen. Their heads are either resting on their folded arms or pressing against the window.

The small cushion adjacent to the couch is taken up wholly by Eddie. 

Your Eddie.

His long legs are spread and his back is slouched against the side of the R.V. He’s taking up every bit of room the thing has to offer, which wasn’t very much to begin with. His pink lips are parted and slightly chapped. He blows soft exhales from them that make his chest rise and fall with even breaths. 

Your hands begin to ache with the want to run them through his wild strands of hair, to ease his head to your chest and let the sound of your heartbeat chase away the nightmares that threaten to plague him.

You want so badly to sleep alongside him, but you know that slumber won’t come as easily to you.

Despite the exhaustion that weighs down your tired bones, whenever you close your eyes, you can only see Chrissy’s mangled body on the ceiling of Eddie’s trailer. The image of broken bones and sucked-out eye sockets is stained on the back of your mind.

It’s something you’ll never forget. Not in a billion, trillion lifetimes.

You’re scared you won’t ever sleep peacefully again.

But you’re glad Eddie’s finally resting. Even if you can’t. 

And maybe that’s what love is.

…Love.

You almost can’t believe you’re calling it that. It’s not like you’ve told him as much or anything. You haven’t been together very long, only a few months, but you’re not sure what else to call this feeling. Is it normal for you to want to fight the most powerful dark wizard known to man with your bare hands as long as it means keeping Eddie safe?

The realization that you’re actually moving on from Steve is perhaps more shocking. You were starting to think you’d be fawning over him for the rest of your life, destined to be alone forever while he got married and had kids. But then Eddie came out of nowhere. He swept you off your feet without even trying.

You’d spent so much of your life in love with Steve that you’d forgotten how it felt to be loved. But Eddie reminded you, most ardently so, and you’ve never been happier.

And Steve can see all that.

He can see how you’ve gone to hell and back — quite literally — to keep Eddie safe. He can see how Eddie still manages to make you laugh so hard your stomach hurts, even though death looms overhead like a big, gray storm cloud. It almost makes him angry. Not at Eddie, exactly. And certainly not at you. He’s more so mad at himself for waiting until you were out of his grip entirely to need you like air.

Steve wasn’t an idiot; he knew how you felt about him. He’s known for years. But Nancy was the only girl in his purview for… an embarrassingly long amount of time. Maybe that’s because she didn’t want a single damn thing to do with him at first, and it wasn’t like Steve to back down from a challenge.

But you? You were easy. You were always going to be there. Your love was the only constant thing in his life.

And then it just… wasn’t.

It was like his center of gravity had suddenly shifted or his feet had been knocked out from under him. The loss of you, of something that was never his to begin with, jarred him like he’d been awake with most vigor. Now, he finds himself living in a nightmare — forced to watch you fall in love with someone else while he ebbs slowly from your mind.

You sit with him now — with Eddie — while he and Dustin fuck around with the shields they’d crafted out of tin garbage can lids. You watch them with a smile on your face even though you’re shaking your head at them and telling them something that Steve can’t hear. 

You’ve got a sword in your hand, and you sharpen its steel with a rock. The too expensive thing had been hanging on the wall at The War Zone, and you told Eddie you just had to have it. 

“I’ll just… take up extra shifts at Wayne’s shop,” you reason with a shrug, gaze never leaving the bladed weapon.

“Do whatever you want,” the brunette boy responded nonchalantly as he dropped four cases of ammunition into the red basket in your hand. He smiled down at you. “That just means I’ll get to see you more.”

It hurts Steve for you to be so far away from him. 

You’re just across the small clearing. All he’d have to do is walk over to you, really, but it’s more than just the distance. No matter how close he gets to you, or how far you get from Eddie, your soul’s always going to be with him. 

Steve will never have you like that, and that’s what hurts the most.

He thinks he’s doing a pretty good job of keeping a stiff upper lip about it. He thinks he’s keeping some deep, dark secret, having no idea that he’s all but spilling his guts to Robin. Honestly, he’s just trying to make conversations while they make homemade bombs out of gasoline and glass bottles, but he’s more than obvious. As per usual.

“How long do you think they’ve got?” Steve asks her out of the blue while he pours the chemicals through the funnel and into the flask Robin holds out for him. He doesn’t wait for an answer. 

“Because I thought they’d be over forever ago, you know? I mean… it’s Eddie. She’s, like, totally out of his league, right? But I’m pretty sure they just had an anniversary or something because I saw him buying flowers at Bradley’s Big Buy the other day…”

Robin opens her mouth to get a word in, but Steve just keeps on going going going.

“Unless you think they were for someone else? But let’s be serious, right? He’s a freak, but he’d never do that to her. I don’t know… Maybe he’s just the sorta guy that gets her flower for no reason, and it hasn’t been as long as it feels.”

“Well, I’m pretty sure they—”

“Let’s face it, if he’s doing that for her, they’re probably gonna make it, right?” the boy laughs bitterly to himself. He stuffs a rag into the neck of the bottle. “God, I’m such an idiot… Maybe if I’d done those things, I’d still—”

“I swear to god, if you say you’d still be with Nancy, I’m gonna punch you in the forehead,” Robin snapped suddenly. She’s got a foreign sternness to her tone and a glacial hardness in her blue eyes. She glares at him with it. “You don’t love Nancy, Steve. And she doesn’t love you. So stop going for the easiest thing when you know it’s not what you want.”

He sighs. He knows she’s right. “I just—”

“I get it. It sucks being lonely. I’m pretty sure I’m destined to spend the rest of my life alone, so join the club,” Robin smiles, a tad bit cynically, at him. “It sucks being in love with someone you can’t have. Trust me, I get it. But you need to move on.”

Steve swallows. He almost winces at the thought of that — of never having you. He shakes his head as though to get rid of the idea entirely. “I can’t… I can’t do that, Rob.”

“Then what are you gonna do, Steve?” she asks him with a mirthless, but not unkind laugh. 

She nods her head over to you. You laugh as Eddie spins you in his arms, both of you marveling at how you’ve just nailed a tree on the far edge of the clearing with the knives you’d thrown at it. Steve can hear the sound of your bubbly laughter from where he sits. Its brightness rivals that of the setting sun. 

“Look at her. She’s happy. Finally. So… Just let her be happy,” Robin advises with a shrug. She sets the glass bottle in the box with the rest of them. “I mean, we’re about to stop a dark wizard from ending the world, you know? Some of us probably won’t make it out—”

“Don’t say that,” Steve scolds.

“Some of us probably won’t make it,” she repeats, firmer this time, like it’s something he really needs to hear. “Something could happen to Eddie. Something could happen to her. Do you really want to be the selfish asshole that ruins what could very well be everyone’s last moments together just because you’ve got a bleeding heart?”

She’s being harsh. He knows it deserves it. Now is virtually the worst time to tell you everything on his mind — just when you’re starting to really settle down with Eddie and about to fight some wizard in an alternate dimension.

Something could happen to her. Those words left Robin’s mouth and stabbed him in the heart like a thousand unforgiving knives. Steve can’t fathom anything ever happening to you. Even with the end of the world, with all of you about to fight a war, it never crossed his mind. He can’t picture his life without you in it.

He can’t lose you without telling you how he feels — that he loves you, that he’s always loved you, and that he’s an oblivious idiot who learned that too late.

He can’t lose you at all.

So, against his better judgment and Robin’s sound advice, Steve abandons his work with her and hikes the relatively short distance over to you.

Eddie hasn’t yet let go of you. He keeps his arms tight around your waist and hugs you from behind, pressing the back of you to his chest while his chin sits along your shoulder. His chocolate eyes are stuck on the bullseye you’d carved into the bark of the tree on the far side of the clearing. The four knives you’d thrown, now stuck at the very center of the target, stare back at him.

“This is probably a bad time to be turned on, huh?” he half-jokes, chin bobbing against your shoulder with every word.

“Eddie!” you scold as you wrench yourself out of his grip.

Dustin’s face screws up from where he lounges on the grass beside the both of you. “Gross…” 

You walk away from the two boys to collect your knives from the poor oak tree. Eddie whistles lowly at you while you go — as though he’s never seen you in a pair of jeans before. You throw your middle finger over your shoulder at him in response.

That’s when Steve catches you, when you’re finally alone, and with a tiny white lie of needing to go back to the R.V. for more gasoline. You offer to walk with him, just like he figured you might, because none of you wants anyone to go off alone. Not with Vecna potentially watching you.

You walk alongside him through the thick wood, dodging low-hanging branches and uplifted roots. Steve notices the distant smile dancing on the corners of your lips — a beautiful stain Eddie’s left there.

“What are you gonna do?” he asks you suddenly. “You know, when this is all over?”

Your brows raise at his question, mouth falling softly agape and eyes widening with a far-off look. You look stumped by the simple inquiry, like it’s something you hadn’t thought of yet — of any of this being over.

“I don’t know…” you murmur. “Go back to work, I guess.”

Steve laughs. “We’re gonna save the world tonight, and you’re gonna be back in the office on Monday?”

“Who knows? Maybe I’ll take a sick day,” you joke, just to hear him laugh again.

He lifts a splintered tree limb to get it out of the way for you, then ushers you to walk ahead of him. You mutter a low and shy “thank you” as you walk beneath it. He lets the branch fall again as he follows behind you.

“What about you, then?” you retort. “What are you gonna do after? Since going back to a nine-to-five is so unreasonable.”

“Actually, I was thinking about writing an opera,” Steve quips with a straight face. “I would be the main character, of course—”

“You’re such an idiot,” you giggle with the shake of your head. The airy, sunshine sound makes him smile down at you. His honey-tined gaze swims with longing. You don’t catch it because you’re not looking back at him.

“What do you want me to do, then?”

You tilt your head to catch his stare. Your eyes sparkle and your brows arch with a look both soft and stern. “Honest answer?”

“Of course.”

“I think you should go work for your dad. Try and… I don’t know… make something for yourself—”

“Alright, that’s not…”

“—Because you can’t work at Family Video forever, Steve!”

“You’re not playing fair,” he concedes quietly, laughing under his breath and shaking his head.

He shouldn’t have expected anything less — you did preface an honest answer, after all. It doesn’t make him feel any less bad about it, though.

You’d supported Steve through a lot of shit. Every mindless fight with his parents, every breakup that had him swearing he would never love again, every aspect of his douchebag phase that almost ruined your friendship. You were always soft with him, but never dishonest.

So when he told you that his dad offered him a well-paying job in Indianapolis, it didn’t surprise him when you told him to take it. Despite all the other shit (his broken relationship with his father and his incessant daydreaming of settling down with Nancy, namely), you knew he wasn’t happy in Hawkins.

“Fuck your dad, Steve. This isn’t about him,” you’d said. “You should take it! Starting building your life in the city! And when you’re finally making more money than your stupid dad, you can rub it in everyone’s stupid faces.”

Steve, of course, ended up turning it down.

The salary was high — too high for a boy just out of high school — but he figured no amount of money was worth a wounded pride. 

Steve was scared that it was all a ploy, another thing his dad could hold over his head, another accomplishment that wasn’t really his. And, truth be told, he was less enthusiastic about leaving Hawkins without you. He isn’t quite sure where he’d be in life without you guiding him through a significant portion of it. It made it nearly impossible to picture a life that didn’t have you at the very center of it.

He happily took to be Robin Buckley’s schmuck at Scoops Ahoy (and then again at Family Video) and Dustin Henderson’s unofficial chauffeur instead. He didn’t mind being a casualty of rattrap small town as long as it meant he didn’t have to stray too far from you.

But here you were now, right next to him in this lonesome forest, and still so far away.

You meet his boyishly forlorn expression with a sincere, tight-lipped smile. “You know that I’m right.”

“Yeah, I do,” he scoffs in response. “That’s the problem.”

“When we kill Vecna and save Hawkins for the… thousandth time… You should take that job. I mean, screw your dad, you deserve a life outside of all this shit—”

“So do you,” he argues.

“I’ll make it without you, Harrington. I’ll try to, anyway,” you quip, turning your gaze up to the family of birds sitting high in an oak tree and wishing you were one of them. You shrug to yourself. “I’ll keep on being a secretary at the car shop… Maybe settle down with Eddie.”

That makes Steve stop dead in his tracks. He laughs bitterly to himself, a quiet and venom-coated scoff. “Right. Because living with his uncle in a one-bedroom trailer is such a dream.”

It makes you stop, too, and turn on your heel to face him. You’re surprised to find him so many paces back. Steve sees a flash of hurt strike like lightning across your features, but he’s too hurt to apologize.

“I get it,” you concede with a small, cynical smile. “You don’t like him. You never have. But… He’s a good guy, Steve. If you just got to know him—”

“It’s not that,” he mumbles, cutting you off before he has to suffer through a list of reasons why Eddie’s so much better than he is. The boy’s gaze falls to the forest floor. He kicks a bunch of green pine needles with the toe of his sneaker rather than meet your prying gaze.

“Then what is it?” you retort. “Because I was just trying to help you. I didn’t say to, like, hurt your feelings or whatever. I just know that you want a life in the city, with a big house and a whole bunch of kids—” A laugh spills from your lips as you remember the dream he was telling you about. “You want that picture-perfect life, right? Now you can have it!”

“You don’t know what I want,” he counters quietly.

“Oh, please. I know you better than you know yourself, Steve Harrington—”

“Break up with him,” he blurts.

Your playful smile fades almost instantly. Your eyes search his face for any hint that he might be joking, but all you find is a deeply heartbroken boy. His bushy brows are scrunched together, his eyes glimmering with unshed tears, a puppy-like hurt painting each of his features.

You match his expression of grief with your own. Your face scrunches with a mixture of confusion and sorrow. “Wh… What?” you manage to stutter after realizing you’d been holding your breath.

“I don’t want you to settle down with Eddie,” Steve confesses. A secret he thought he’d take to his grave before ever telling you.

You’re quiet. For several long moments, you’re eerily silent. Even the forest hangs on bated breath. Birds stop chirping, the wind stops blowing, leaves stop rustling. It’s just you and him and a great big world waiting on the both of you.

A frown pulls down the very corners of your mouth. Your eyes go glassy and wide, like a heartbroken baby, and your head jerks back softly, still defensive and unsure.

“Why?” you force through a tightening throat.

“Why?” Steve repeats, finding it somehow within himself to laugh. He takes several short strides to stand with you again. With him closer now, you can see the sadness in his smile and the flush that blotches his cheeks. “You know why…”

You only shake your head in response. The words are far harder to get out. “No…”

“I just… I know it feels like I’m saying it all of a sudden, but it’s… It’s not new to me, you know?” Steve tries his best to explain to you why he’s choosing now, of all moments, to pour his heart out to you. His eyes are as wide and hopeful as the palms he waves out in front of him. “I don’t wanna go into this without you knowing how I feel about you—” 

“Steve,” you agonize in hopes of ending his rambling. “Don’t.”

“—And I just want you to know, in case something happens, that I love you.”

“No,” you say with the defiant shake of your head, your chin quivering and your gaze ice-cold.

“Yes,” he replies, just as stubborn.

“Steve…” you choke out when the name gets hung in your throat. 

A warm tear falls from your lashes and onto the very apple of your cheek. You wipe it away with the back of your hand and use your free one to bat Steve away when he tries to reach out for you. You stumble back from him, heading back the way you came — back to Eddie.

“Don’t, Steve. Just stop it.”

“Why?” he grieves in the softest voice he can muster, wet and warm with his hurt.

“You’re being mean,” you scold.

“I’m being mean?” he echoes with a sad sort of laugh.

“When it comes to you… I have always been second to Nancy. Always. And I won’t be the person you settle for just because she doesn’t want you, Steve,” you rant, voice fragile like glass or flower petals. 

He wants to tell you that he doesn’t want Nancy — that being with the person he loves won’t be settling — but you continue in your lament, and he misses the chance.

“I can’t… I won’t do it, okay? Not after I’ve spent my entire life loving you,” you confess to him, face scrunched in anger. It’s a subtle sort of rage, pointed both at him and yourself.

He watches, feeling totally helpless, while you wipe bitterly at your damp cheeks. Steve’s seen a lot of assholes make you cry. He never dreamed he’d be one of them. 

Robin was right. He’d ruined everything. It seems to be the only thing he’s good at these days.

“I’m sorry,” he calls to you as you walk away. “I wasn’t… I didn’t say it to make you sad.”

“You shouldn’t have said it at all!” you shout back, angrier than you’ve ever been with him. You take in a stuttering breath and exhale a shakier sigh, trying to calm yourself down again. “I just don’t get why you waited so long…” you agonize, words wet with tears. “Why did you wait until I was happy? Eddie… Eddie’s so nice to me, Steve. And you just… You just throw this shit at me right before we... That’s not fair.”

“I know…” he murmurs. “I know…”

The world starts turning again. 

Birds sing their songs, sounding somehow sadder than before, as though in lament for the brokenhearted boy. The wind begins to whistle as it brushes through the trees. It’s only half successful in breathing air back into your lungs.

A rustling of the brush gains both of your attention’s. It sounds like something is slithering somewhere in the thick laurel — a rabbit, a snake, a dark wizard out to kill a bunch of sad teenagers. 

You and Steve are alone, heartbroken, and clear targets for a monster who feeds on traumatized kids.

Though it’s entirely unlikely that Vecna has crawled out from the depths of the Upside Down and into these woods, you and Steve reach for your respective weapons anyway — him for the axe strapped to his back and you for the knives hanging on your belt. You’re ready to protect each other despite your distant anger.

But instead of some shriveled skin creep, you find freaks of a different kind.

The pale human faces of Dustin and Eddie peek out from the brush with curious smiles. They maneuver through the thicket and try to avoid the thorns. “What’s going on over here, huh?” the oldest boy wonders with his signature sparkling grin.

It’s almost scary how you so easily contort your features full of grief into a sickly sweet, artificial smile. You swipe the back of your hand over your face again to clear the tears clinging to your lashes, though it looks like you’re only wiping away sweat.

“Nothing,” you answer quickly with the innocent shake of your head. “Steve was just being an idiot—”

“Imagine that,” Dustin scoffs.

“—And saying stuff he doesn’t mean.”

“That’s not true,” Steve mutters, then clears his throat when the words come out more choked than expected.

“Just wanted to make sure you weren’t out here making moves on my girl, Harrington,” Eddie lilts with a playful smile. He reaches you and wraps a heavy arm over your shoulder to tuck you into his side. 

His sudden touches stopped surprising you a long time ago. You realized early on in your relationship that he can’t go without touching you for very long.

Eddie squints teasingly at Steve. “Go get your own.”

The boy doesn’t have a comeback at the ready. He isn’t sure of what to say, anyway. Eddie’s jokes aren’t as funny when they aren’t jokesanymore. He was just sort of professing his love to you and getting his heart stomped on in the process. He should probably be used to the feeling by now, but it stings like it’s brand new.

You’re grateful for Eddie’s appearance and the bickering that seems to follow him wherever he goes. It’s easy to get lost in his words, let all the sarcasm run over you, and forget the bullshit that came before it.

“We should head back before the others think we got abducted by Vecna or something,” you urge, desperate to get away from these woods and from this moment.

Dustin listens to you without question because he always listens to you. And Steve listens because he wants an escape just as much as you do. He’d rather go back to Robin and all her “I told you so”’s than keep watching Eddie hold you like he is now.

“What do ya say we skip this joint and have our own fun out here?” the wild-haired boy jokes, already leaning down to press a kiss to your mouth.

“Eddie, don’t—” you huff, but otherwise don’t fight him. It’s only an innocent peck, a loud smack upon your lips, that makes Dustin mutter “gross…” under his breath as he walks away. 

And if he heard it, that means Steve heard it.

You keep your eyes open all the while. You feel a bit numb, actually. A little like you’ve just kissed a ghost. You feel as cold as one, as distant and not all there. Eddie holds your hand the entire walk back to the clearing, but you have a hard time feeling it.

You feel a bit like woods surrounding you. You’re all crowded and heavy with sadness. You can’t tell if your grief is your own or if you’re feeling Steve’s too, because you can’t seem to take your eyes off him.

There’s an entire forest within you, you find, and Steve’s carved his initials into every tree.

[onlyswan]

dreamboat | jjk (1)

summary: aboard the dreamboat, jungkook finds himself drawn to a beautiful stranger who appears to be drowning in melancholy. weeks later, he sees her face on the other side of the aquarium at his apartment building’s lobby. he soon learns that it’s not fate’s grand romantic plans that brought you back to his life. / (alt.) / a shipwreck and a dreamboat form an unusual bond in an aquarium.

non!idoljk x f!reader (jk is a business major who works at the amusement park ; oc works at the call center) / strangers to lovers / fluff, angst, suggestive / chapter wc: 14.9k / total fic wc: 30.8k

warnings/content (for full fic): is it an onlyswan fic if nobody cries? ; smoking ; making out ; mention of nude art ; mention of flashing ; panic attack ; a ghost cameo lol ; s*x scandal ; abuse of authority ; harrassment ; jk throws a punch once ; oc drives a motorbike without a helmet once ; vminjin + yeontan cameos :3 ; tae and jk are the same age tho

-> part two (wc: 15.9k) | spotify playlist (open to song recs <3)

note: my not so little summer project <3 i thought i wouldn’t have the opportunity to dedicate this much time to writing again in the near future so here we are! finishing this story alone felt fulfilling but even more so that i get to share it with you. pls treat it with gentle care 🫂 reblogs and feedback r very much appreciated i love talking to you guys🥺 special thanks to my lovely rio for proofreading and being the sweetest friend :") ilyily

࿐ for those who yearn <3

—

“wait! wait for me! don’t close it yet!”

jungkook’s whole life has led up to this moment. 

from running away from his neighbor’s large snobby dogs during childhood— to participating in run for charity marathons mostly, only mostly, to appease his ex-girlfriend by being interested in her interests.

he successfully escaped from his uneventful class today by faking dizziness. half an hour later, he is racing towards one of the few places in this city where he feels something. 

his best friend’s face is still blurry given the distance, but jungkook doesn’t need to clearly see taehyung’s face to know that he is looking at him unimpressed. 

“why are you here? do you even have a ticket?!” taehyung interrogates him once he reaches the gate.

“do i have a ticket? really?” jungkook smirks, tossing his backpack to the ground. 

he crosses over to the other side, and with ease, sneaks his hand in between the bars to push the lock into place. 

“what do you think i work here for?” 

taehyung sighs and mumbles to himself. “fine, my bad. thought we worked to pay for our bills.”

he picks up the backpack and swings it over his shoulder, heading to the control booth. on the other hand, jungkook climbs on the ship the amusement park owner lovingly named the dreamboat. he places his grip on one of the many vines curiously large butterflies are attached to, fully ignoring the existence of the steps. he hoists himself up onto the wooden floor with ease. 

unhappy faces with blank stares. 

he smiles at them cheerfully.

“i apologize for the hold-up. i’m your captain!” 

“jungkook! sit!” 

“wouldn’t he be the captain?” a high school boy at the very front quips, eyes pointing downwards at taehyung. 

“eh, more like the wind behind our sails.” he ruffles the boy’s head in passing as he trudges over to his desired seat. 

“what?”

his spot, a more suitable better term. the farthest row which most first timers do not dare to sit at; the part of the ship closest to the sky when it swings back and forth, higher and higher, until it feels like he’s going to fall off— but he doesn’t. for short bursts of moments, he’s flying. 

the passengers are erupting in ear-splitting screams, curses, and laughter. the wide smile plastered on his face could probably be described as sadistic as he observes their reactions. most would find this ride as a nauseating, life-threatening ordeal and its name ridiculously ironic. however, to jungkook, this is what it means to be alive.

he imagined he would be alone here again today.

but as he is brought higher into the air, he discovers one person strapped to the last row of the other side of the ship. 

the earth begins to move in slow motion. 

they have their face buried in their palms, body shaking with what he can only guess is intense sobbing. 

gone is the smile on his face. 

jungkook has witnessed a few criers, sure, but not to this degree. a wave of sadness washes over him. he feels guilty and he doesn’t know why. why the hell would he be? he doesn’t even know who you are. 

are you that scared? if you’re scared, why would you volunteer to go here alone? if not, then why is your heart breaking? 

for a few seconds, the noises cease and his focus on you becomes amplified. 

and why is his breaking too? 

your sobs and gasps for air are once more drowned out by the fear and adrenaline of the majority. nevertheless, the ache they caused in his chest stays. 

what could it be? the reason you’re crying like this at an amusement park? wouldn’t it be because you got stood up by your date?

lost in thought, he’s been unblinking. the wind blows as the speed of the boat picks up and he groans when dirt gets into his eye. he harshly rubs and rubs and he stops to check if it’s gone… he knows it’s gone because now he can see clearly— one of the most beautiful people he has laid his eyes upon.

the wind blows into your hair and it finally grants him a good view of your face. red, swollen eyes and mascara running. you wipe your tears away, distant eyes falling on your lap, and you take a sharp inhale. you’re a tragedy and so gorgeous still that the aching of his heart doubles due to its intensified pounding. 

there’s no way… he debunks his theory. there’s no way a man could ever waste the opportunity of going on a date with you. only a fool. 

slow motion comes to a full stop.

shit, shit, shit. 

why can’t he look away? 

you’ve made eye-contact and you’re not breaking it. 

he nervously swallows the lump in his throat.

“huh?”

the ringing of the bell snaps him out of… whatever that experience was. he looks around and it is revealed to him that the ship has returned to its neutral position. passengers are already hopping off, including you.

wait, including you… 

when did you get a cap?!

“fuck!” he curses, kicking his feet in annoyance.

he then proceeds to break the promise he swore to himself: never run after a girl again. 

“yah, jungkook! where are you going?! you need to clock in!”

taehyung releases yet another sigh as he loses his best friend among the crowd. nearly at the same time, he hears a thud that originates from the control booth. he blankly stares at the backpack that mysteriously fell off the chair. 

“does he have snacks in here at least?”

—

blue tube top and black baseball cap worn backwards. blue top and black cap. blue top and black cap. jungkook chants in his head like a maniac as he navigates the grounds, trying his best not to lose sight of your back. sweat has started to form as beads on his forehead. he squeezes one eye shut, wary of the sting, before wiping them away with the back of his hand. 

he ran with all his might, but now that you’re almost within reach, he’s suddenly nervous.

“miss- miss! you dropped this!” 

you turn around abruptly so his fingers end up only grazing your arm. the first thing he notices is your knitted eyebrows. he doesn’t know whether it mostly indicates annoyance or confusion. 

you merely glance at the handkerchief on his open palm. “it’s not mine.” 

you walk away from him and you are a magnet he is curiously drawn to. 

he stands in front of you, sweaty and stuttering like a student introducing himself to a class for the very first time. 

“but are you okay? i-i couldn’t help but to notice that you were cry- uh, uhm… you-you seem to  have troubles.” 

he clears his throat, turning his cheek for a second as to avoid melting under your intense gaze. he marvels at your beauty but he can’t pull himself together to admire it from a close distance. 

“sorry, i don’t mean to pry. i’m just concerned.” 

seconds pass and he doesn’t receive any sort of answer. no affirmative nod; not even a roll of the eyes. you stare at his face blankly as your feet become rooted into the ground. strands of your hair dance with gusts of the wind. it could be a haunting sight. your glossy eyes are reminiscent of deep, turbulent waters. there was a twinge of doubt on the accuracy of his words before, however, it now seems to ring true. 

could it really be because of a boy?

a bicycle enters his line of vision. 

a little too close not to cause an accident. 

“move!” he yells out the warning, but he still takes matters into his own hands by pushing you over to the side and using his own body as a shield. 

the bicycle speeds past and the rider screams something unintelligible. 

jungkook’s nostrils flare. “kid, that’s not allowed in here! where did you come from?!” 

the security guard running after the rule-breaker moves past him, but not before hitting his back with the baton. 

“jungkook! why didn’t you stop him?!”

“yah! what was that for?!” 

he scoffs, glaring towards the direction of the intruder and his co-staff, who has an entirely different job from him. why didn’t he stop him?! 

while he was distracted by the commotion, he was also unaware that you managed to swipe the handkerchief loosely hanging from his grip around your arm. 

his angry expression softens. 

you wipe away your tears that are freely flowing against your will. earlier, you were sobbing. right now, your face is devoid of any expression. he can’t decide which is more heartbreaking.

“are you okay?” he carries on to ask again despite the both of you knowing the answer, but he just doesn’t know what else to do. 

“i’m okay,” you say. “thanks for finding my handkerchief… and for saving me from the- the, yeah…” 

you’re about to walk out of his life until his mouth blurts out- “wait! take this!” 

he wishes the ground would swallow him whole. you blink at the small packet of sour gummies on his open palm and he wishes the ground would swallow him whole. 

even he thinks this is ridiculous. he had a handkerchief in the left pocket of his jacket and now it’s yours. he had gummy worms in the right and for some reason he also wants you to have it.

“why?”

he has the same question.

“just because…”

no, that won’t do it.

“maybe it could make you feel better.”

oh my god.

“if you decide to ride the spinning top… it helps when you’re nauseated.”

still with the unreadable expression, you probe no further and accept his edible remedy. 

“thank you.” you politely bow before taking your leave.

he doesn’t run after you this time. after all, his pockets are empty. 

meeting you— this is probably the first and last time. 

he exhales through his mouth. disappointed. he turns around and tries to look for you again. 

blue top and black cap… 

there you are. 

leaving- 

wait. 

the spark of hope quickly fizzles out. you pull your hand out of your pocket, tossing something into one of the trash bins. he’s too far away to identify the item, but it couldn’t be… right?

he huffs in sheer disbelief.

“huh, she’s pretty and rude.” 

—

if he’s being honest, jungkook doesn’t like this job much. graphic design is there, and it’s been a pretty sweet gig especially when he’s desperate for extra cash. anyway, taehyung got this job first, which took away time from their regular hangouts, so he would often visit his best friend during his free periods at the university. long story short, one of the managers scolded them both for playing around throughout taehyung’s shift, and as a punishment, she employed jungkook.  

she is the reason why he is spending his sunday morning putting on strangers’ seatbelts and lap bars so they won’t fall off the rollercoaster and die. he was trained to double-check everything, but he is a bit more paranoid about lawsuits than the management, so despite the extra waiting time some passengers aren’t happy about, he makes that triple. 

as fast as he can, while maintaining meticulousness, he does his final round of checking. so far, everyone is safely strapped to their seats. until he reaches the last row and finds the only person there with their lap bar unlocked. how did he miss that? 

“ma’am, your lap bar isn’t secured. do you mind if i-”

the woman shakes her head without a word. as he gets to work, his eyes can’t help but to stray. most of her face is hidden by a face mask and sunglasses. it’s kind of funny because it’s actually been a gloomy day. 

“ah, there you go. safe and sound!” 

“thanks,”

he flashes her a bright smile. the last and apparently most important employee rule.  

“you’re welcome!” 

—

 

“why aren’t you eating?” taehyung asks with a mouthful of corndog. 

jungkook lifts his head up from the table, sends him a glare, then drops it again. he didn’t get much sleep last night studying for their upcoming tests. he’d much rather spend his whole lunch break with his eyes closed. he’d go as far as saying that moving his jaw to chew food sounds like exerting too much energy and he couldn’t be bothered.

“change shifts with me. i fucking hate sundays.” 

“depends…” taehyung pretends to be in deep thought. “will you buy me a meal everyday until our shifts rotate again?”

“do you want to die?” 

“no, but it looks like you will before me.” 

jungkook yawns, sleepy tears flowing down his temple. “you might be right…”

“were you up all night thinking of that girl?” 

“huh? no.”

“you’re lying.”

“shut up,” he groans, adjusting himself into a more comfortable position. 

so a beautiful stranger has been plaguing his mind. big deal! happens to the best of us. 

taehyung cackles at his demise, thoroughly amused. “why? didn’t she throw away your gift?” 

“it wasn’t a gift.” he argues. “and i know, she’s exactly my type.” 

“bro, you’re fucking hopeless.”

“i know that too,” he calmly replies. “i kind of miss her.” 

“at least it’s not your ex anymore, i guess.” taehyung mutters before obnoxiously sipping on his strawberry lemonade. “want to sneak into the security camera room? i’m curious. i want to see her.”

“can’t you just let me sleep?!” 

“wow, you’re so grumpy today.” 

took him long enough to deduce.

“then should we go after your nap?” 

“i need to work!” jungkook snaps. he straightens his back, rubbing his face in frustration. “go- go do whatever you want!”

taehyung’s chewing slows down, appearing almost scared at his best friend’s outburst, but everything is a game with the two of them. “but i don’t know what she looks like.” 

jungkook sighs, squeezing his eyes shut. 

“okay, fine!” 

in a state of exaggerated panic, taehyung gathers his things in one clean sweep, cradling them in his arms. 

“i’m leaving!” he dashes out of the break room as if he’s running for his life. 

jungkook huffs out a laugh at the comedic scene. as soon as his smile drops, so does his head. 

—

 

it’s past midnight, which means it’s already friday. jungkook has been glued to the computer for the past three hours, working on a brochure he was commissioned to make. this task would go along smoothly if only his client didn’t have such a long list of demands, but alas, he is desperate for a good review after his past client’s four paragraph-long criticism. a boomer’s opinions hardly matter to him, but he knows how a single bad review alone can negatively affect reputation. 

one thing’s for sure, everyone’s making it hard for him to fucking quit energy drinks. 

he tosses the empty can into the trash bin beside his desk. away with his anti-radiation glasses, too. it lands in an awkward position over his keyboard. he couldn’t care less. everything hurts. 

he keeps his eyes closed as he stretches his fingers, neck, and back with strained moans and grunts. the sweet relief causes him to slump lazily on his chair. at that moment, an internal battle starts. should he do the responsible thing and continue working? or should he just say fuck it and go to bed? 

“no but seriously! why would she throw them away?!” 

completely unrelated. 

a thousand miles away from the topic at hand. 

“jungkook!” taehyung growls from the bed, furiously pressing at the buttons of the controller. “it’s been two weeks! when are you going to move on?” 

jungkook spins the chair to face him with a deadpan expression. the ps5 hogger is too focused on the television screen to even notice. 

“you wouldn’t expect it but those aren’t cheap.”

“then maybe you shouldn’t have given it away to a stranger.” taehyung shrugs. “but that’s just me.” 

“that was out of my control.” jungkook defends. “you should’ve seen her.” 

“well, you wouldn’t let me.” taehyung mumbles, but he obviously wanted him to hear. “no thanks. crying at the amusement park? she’s got to have some real issues.” 

“so what? we all got issues.” 

“not me,” he sends jungkook a smirk. “if i don’t acknowledge them, they’re not there.” 

“and that, my friend…” jungkook has decided to retire from his work area tonight. he pats taehyung’s shoulder as a display of faux sympathy. “is your biggest issue.” 

wearing a childish grin, he grabs the other controller from the floor.

“now, shall we rank up?” 

—

 

it’s been a few days since summer vacation started. he normally comes home to busan during the school breaks for a temporary taste of childhood bliss. he spends the entire day watching television, eating home-cooked meals, and not thinking about requirements at all.

too bad his vacation is suspended due to his adult responsibilities. 

at least that’s the excuse he used. 

his family has been staying with relatives for the past month because their home is currently under renovation. and well, jungkook’s dorm is suffocating enough on his own. staying under one roof with nine other people? hard. pass.

he may or may not be regretting that decision now, however. all of a sudden, coming home from work with a bag full of ramyeon and beer feels too depressing. even more so that he has no one to share them with. all of his friends have gone home. taehyung, too. he found someone who could temporarily fill in his place and did not think twice about leaving jungkook behind. he can’t blame him.

jungkook enters the apartment building. as always, quiet and dim. he gets that the owner is trying to save money, but isn’t it a bit too early to start turning off the lights? he rolls his eyes despite the lack of a witness. 

they are very lucky that he has grown somewhat fond of this place.

jungkook allows himself to be roped in by the only source of warm light in the lobby. he finds himself incredibly silly for being entertained by goldfishes swimming around in an aquarium, but after a hectic day, this is where his brain cools down. 

“hello everyone,” he coos at them.

do fishes even react to baby talk? he wouldn’t know. the only pet that lasted him years and is still alive is their family dog, gureum. 

“how was your day? i hope it was better than mine.” 

—

 

on the other side of the aquarium stands you, watching a boy talk to the fishes while he is blissfully unaware of your presence. an endeared smile graces your face unbeknownst to you. 

eventually, there arrives a moment when most of the fishes favor a certain side and they clear out before his eyes. 

that is when he finally notices you. 

your heart begins to race, but he appears to be more shocked than you are. you stand up straight nearly at the same time. 

despite the dark, they’re impossible to miss. his breathtaking eyes— which were filled with pure wonder and adoration only seconds ago— growing in size as soon as they saw yours. 

“i know you…” 

a bucket of ice cold water is dumped over your head. 

“the girl who cried at the dreamboat!”

and while you do not appreciate the rather ungentlemanly pointing of finger, you’re glad to be able to breathe out a sigh of relief. 

well, and there’s also the crippling shame.

you didn’t want your first impression on anyone to be the most pitiful version of yourself. 

it’s been over a month for fuck’s sake. how does he remember your face so well?

“wow,” he gapes. “you changed your hair.”

you touch your hair, feeling a little conscious. 

is that a good thing or a bad thing? 

it’s your first time changing your hair color; plus, the last time you had bangs was in middle school. it’s been weeks since you had the big transformation, but you’re not quite sure how you feel about it yet. 

“yeah, light pink…” 

“it suits you well.” 

“thanks,” is all you manage to respond with. 

a gust of awkward silence passes by. there’s the instinct to run away— knocking at your brain, pulling at your limbs. but you can’t think of an excuse. your feet won’t move… eventually you stop minding that. the goldfishes are too beautiful to look away from. they work as the perfect distraction from the other soul standing across. 

“so, um- i’ve never seen you around here.”

“i moved in today.”

“oh, i see… that makes sense.” 

you hum to fill the quietness that follows, thinking of what else you could say, but he beats you to it.

“i live at the 13th floor.“ 

what did he say? do you live on the same floor? that’s impossible.

“how about you?” 

“hm, 10!” 

you blurt out the first number that pops into your mind. you quickly pretend like you’re not freaking out inside by shifting the topic.

“do they-” you gesture to the aquarium. “do they have names?”

“names?” 

the random question seems to catch him off guard.

“none that i’m aware of.” he shakes his head. “i don’t think so- no.”

“oh…” your shoulders sag in disappointment. “that’s sad.”

but then again, you should’ve lowered your expectations and reminded yourself where you are. they were not bought as pets. they were bought for display. 

—

 

the last time jungkook saw you was over a month ago. maybe your face is a tad different because you’re not crying. the new color of your hair compliments you in a way unlike before’s yet just as beautiful. the bangs make much of the difference too. he doesn’t know how old you are, but you look younger somehow. from his point-of-view, he could say that much has changed. but not the melancholia. 

he watches you gaze into the aquarium in fascination; the lights reflect on your eyes as little twinkling stars. you’re not crying, but why can he still feel your sadness? 

he once told taehyung that if you meet again, he’d give you hell for throwing his sour gummies away. 

funny enough, that plan went out the window the second he laid his eyes on you again. 

“do you want to feed them?” he offers. 

“i already did.”

“you did?”

“i did,” you look up at him innocently, nodding. “i asked the guard.”

“aish, he didn’t tell me.” he throws his arms up with a groan. “i almost overfed them.”

you perk up with interest. “do you always feed them?” 

“when i come home from work.”

“that’s nice…” 

the soft smile you give him makes his heart skip a beat, but he doesn’t know it yet. 

“sorry, um-” you begin smoothing out your clothes, also tucking your hair behind your ears. “i need to get to work. it was nice meeting you.”

“work?” he exclaims. “at this time?”

“graveyard shift,” you simply answer. 

pictures of the dark alleyways immediately flash in his mind. 

“but it’s dangerous to be roaming around here at this time.” 

his radar doesn’t detect crimes being reported around the neighborhood, but with the majority of the building’s occupants being young adults, the streets are often littered with drunkards who have many things to be angry about.

“oh, i don’t walk. i’ve got a bike.”

he hasn’t known you long, but this is the most enthusiastic he has seen you. your face lit up as soon as you mentioned your mode of transportation.

however, he is a tiny bit confused.

it shows on his face, apparently.

“the motor kind,” you clarify. 

“ah, the motor kind-” he claps once as soon as the realization dawns on him. he chuckles to himself. “of course!” 

it was important for you to clarify, jungkook concludes from your tone. the fact that you own a bike is sexy, but you look adorable right now and it is so amusing to him. 

“anyway, i need to go. it was nice to meet you!” 

your heels click against the floor as you head towards the same door he walked in from.

“see you around!” he yells, still wearing a wide grin. 

he remains standing there even though you’re already gone from sight. 

hit with a useless yet concerning epiphany, he blinks.

“she rides the motorbike wearing heels?”

—

 

jungkook’s misery has been pushed to the back of his mind, replaced by an overwhelming giddiness that causes him to drop everything on the floor and jump on his bed. he buries his head into the pillow, but it does nothing to erase the happy grin that’s threatening to make his cheeks sore.

what a small world, huh? 

what is this if not fate?

he flips over and stares at the ceiling as if it’s the starry night sky.

this might just become the best summer of his life. 

—

jungkook comes out fresh from the shower clad only in a pair of black boxer shorts. he hangs the towel he was drying his hair with over his nape, heading to the kitchen to prepare his dinner. he rips the lid of the cup ramyeon halfway, and as he pours hot water into it from the electric kettle, your face appears on his mind again. 

wait, there’s something wrong…

he tilts his head to the side, eyebrows knitting together as he tries to figure out what it is he forgot.

“ah, i’m so stupid!”

he totally forgot to ask your name! 

“shit!” he shouts in higher volume when he realizes that the water has overflowed and is now dripping to the floor. 

he puts the kettle down, taking a few steps back from the mess he made. praise heavens the water wasn’t hot enough for his toes to suffer anything more than a first-degree burn. 

he starts to look around for anything he can wipe the floor with, his tongue poking his inner cheek. 

“still having a bad day.” 

—

but a bad day isn’t enough to break down jungkook’s spirit. he knows there will always come a tomorrow, so he seizes that tomorrow and comes home from work as fast as he can. there’s a big chance that you leave for work around the same time, right? 

so he sits down on the sofa facing the aquarium, and he waits. 

his head turns to the elevator each time it dings.

he taps his foot on the floor.

he checks tomorrow’s weather forecast on the app. clear skies. no chance of rain. high humidity levels.

he goes through the magazines laid out on the coffee table. he learns five ways to get over heartbreak. according to the quiz, he has a sweet and passionate personality based on the flavor of his lip balm. he thinks it’s pretty accurate. strawberry, he strokes his non-existent beard. could never go wrong with it.

next thing he knows, the clock strikes twelve. 

he can no longer control his excessive yawning but his stomach is just screaming for the pack of jjajangmyeon in his cupboard. 

he presses the elevator button with a tight-lipped smile. he’s disappointed that he didn’t see you at all today, but he was raised to have a positive outlook in life. you live in the same building. you have to run into each other again one of these days. 

—

what does jungkook hate more than normal sundays? sundays when he didn’t get enough sleep. 

for some reason, he’s still tragically stuck with working on the worst day of the week despite his repeated objections. the only upside to this particular sunday is that he is assigned to the ferris wheel. in exchange for thrice the amount of his daily wage in discreet tips, what happens in some of those cabins are none of his business. 

if he ends up getting reassigned, he would be pretty fucking pissed off. 

he’s restless as the elevator descends to the ground floor. he’s munching on a protein bar, jogging in place as to warm up his body for a race to the bus stop. 

he can’t be the one manning the bump cars. bump cars are the worst. those kids hit you on purpose, he swears. 

the elevator dings and he runs.

until an eye-catching color forces him to pull the brakes. his sneakers squeak against the tiled floor. 

your back may be facing him, but he can recognize you from that cotton candy hair even from a mile away. you’re right where he was hoping you’d be last night, conversing with one of the janitors. this really isn’t the best time for your paths to cross again, given the reasons he was just grouching about, but his feet refuse to move. 

you go on your tiptoes to sprinkle fish feed into the aquarium. you’re so adorable in your pajamas; you’re almost drowning in the black and white checkered cloth. are those yours in the first place?

“everything you need to know is written here… how much- how often you should feed them depending on the seasons, depending on how big they’ve gotten… jungkook worked really hard in researching. impressive, don’t you think?”

“i see…” he is finally granted his wish to hear your soft voice. “but why don’t they have names?”

the janitor scratches his head at your question. “they look too alike to have names.” 

“hello! i heard my name!” jungkook pops in without a warning, causing mister park to flinch and slap a hand over his chest in shock. 

“jungkook! i’m 71 years old! you could’ve killed me!” 

“oh, that’s right-” he gasps. “grandpa, i’m sorry!”

jungkook attacks him with a bear hug, playfully rocking their bodies back and forth hoping that would calm down his vulnerable heart. for a brief moment, he feels like a child again. 

“this is jungkook.” 

the introduction was already made for him. that’s one less thing he has to overthink. 

“____ here wants to feed the fishes every morning from now on. i told her it’s perfectly alright with me.” the janitor laughs. “with my age, you know how forgetful i’ve become.” 

“really?” he breaks away, surprised by what he just learned. “that’s so nice!” 

“it’s nothing. i’m happy to do it.” you smile and make eye-contact with him, but you soon break it, opting to glance at the aquarium. 

you must like fishes a lot. he only felt bad for them because the janitor on night shift doesn’t give a single fuck about them; that’s why he did all that research hoping it would help with committing to the responsibility, which jungkook ended up shouldering in the end anyway. but you… you’ve been here for what? two? three days? 

“tell you what…” he brings out the pen he keeps in the side pocket of his backpack. “this- this is my phone number. if you need anything, or incase you need someone else to feed them, contact me!” 

he scribbles down his phone number on the notepad grandpa was showing you before his rude interruption. 

“by the way, my unit is 1311. you can also just-” he knocks on the thin air, clicking his tongue to mimic the sound. “knock on my door.” 

jungkook’s watch beeps twice everyday, once at 8:50am and then at 11pm sharp. the sun is burning bright and his shift starts at 9am. yes, he is nervous infront of a girl who is drop-dead gorgeous, but he should also be very much nervous about the (unfair) deduction from his measly salary. 

“okay, i need to run to work! goodbye!” 

—

so, his name is jungkook…

you crane your head to watch him rush out of the building. the uncomfortable sound of his sneakers squeaking against the floor makes you grimace. 

the page he wrote his number on is ripped off from the notepad and handed to you. 

“he’s a good kid.”

you force yourself to smile, and it slowly fades as you tilt down your chin and stare at the string of numbers in blue ink.

long after the janitor has left to fulfill his long list of tasks, you remain standing by the aquarium. 

“you do have someone taking good care of you.” you whisper to the clueless fishes, caressing the glass. a genuine smile appears when two of them swim towards you, beady eyes trying to make sense of the stranger loitering around their homey cage. “you can breathe well and you’re warm in the winter. that’s a relief.” 

after feeding them, next on the agenda is to cook your own breakfast. you head for the elevator, tossing the crumpled up paper into the trash bin before pressing the arrow pointing towards north. 

—

“hyung…”

“why?” 

jungkook sighs. “can you text me?” 

“text you what?” seokjin’s forehead creases in confusion. 

“anything. i just need to make sure my phone still works.” 

thursday has been a slow day at the amusement park despite the school vacation and no one has tried to win a teddy bear since the place opened. seokjin is more than happy to spend his free time playing games on his phone in his own little corner at the amusement park. 

well, that was before jungkook got bored at the ping pong toss booth and decided to hang out at the other side of the wall. 

he shrugs and texts his younger friend the word ‘anything’ just to get him off his back. he goes back to playing his game, not curious enough to interrogate him with additional questions. 

jungkook’s text tone rings at max volume. 

“it does work!” he yells in exasperation, flopping down at his seat. “why hasn’t she texted me?”

“you were whining about the same thing the other day.” seokjin muses as his car crosses the finish line. second place. “you fool, just text her first.”

“i don’t have her number.”

“what do you mean you don’t have her number?”

“i gave her mine.” jungkook says quietly. “we live in the same building and i told her to contact me if she needs anything.”

“then i guess it’s safe to say that she doesn’t need anything from you.” 

“seriously, why can’t i have friends that are nice to me?!” 

seokjin bursts out laughing, definitely not a stranger to jungkook and taehyung’s bickering at the break room. 

“you did this one to yourself! jungkook, flirt better!” 

“easier said than done,” jungkook pouts. 

you make him nervous. his brain goes blank when you’re around. in addition to that, he doesn’t know what you’re going through and he’s scared that you’d end up pushing him away if he oversteps. 

“i gave her candy when we first met and she threw them away.” 

“oh, that’s right,” seokjin loads a new game, snorting. “taehyung told me about that.” 

jungkook’s jaw drops. “is he backstabbing me?”

—

jungkook enters the break room with yet another item from the lost-and-found. it’s been over two weeks since he found this orange beanie on the ground. must’ve fallen from the rollercoaster, that’s his best guess. 

since no one has claimed it— “finders keepers,” he grins as he stuffs it into his backpack. 

“thief,” seokjin jokingly accuses him from the other side of the table. “that’s how you were raised?”

“says the one who took the sony headphones yesterday.” 

“i won it fair and square!” 

he’d argue with the older man again, but his phone vibrating has stolen his full attention. he is hit with disappointment at the same moment that he snatches it from the table. it’s his mom, again, asking him when he’s coming home. 

“you need to stop doing that. it’s getting sad.”

he sighs, hugging his backpack to hide his pitiful face. “i am sad.” 

—

his walks home from the bus stop have always been a period for reflection and pondering. the streets of seoul are scattered with his indecision, worries, and anger. since his mother has been asking him for months, should he just go home and endure their living situation? maybe it’s better to be annoyed with the presence of people instead of being blue with a lack thereof. 

so much for being independent. he spent most of high school anticipating the day he gets to move out, now he wants nothing but to go home. he can’t help but to think that life is but a vicious cycle of wanting and losing. 

too lost in thought, he fails to realize right away that he has entered his apartment building’s vicinity. it’s the smell of cigarette smoke that brings him back to reality. the alley is dark, but he can make out the silhouette of a figure crouched down on the ground. assuming that it’s one of the guards hiding to smoke, he soundlessly enters the confined space with mischief up his sleeve. 

when he gets close enough, the first thing he sees is the tip of the cigarette still burning red as the smoker takes a puff.

a car with blinding headlights zooms past.

it becomes unmistakable then— the identity of the person ten feet away from him. 

there’s no one around here with same hair color. 

none that he knows of anyway. 

he is motionless; clueless as to what he should do. he should probably turn his back and leave. pretend this never happened. he never saw anything. 

he can’t even be hung up on the fact that you smoke. if he thinks back on his past experiences with dating, this would’ve been a turn-off, but he loses the ability to care. the smoke in his lungs is negligible when your wounded sobs are breaking his heart. it’s ridiculous that the urge to also cry is spreading fast in his system, but he had a long day and he feels really fucking shitty. 

you were going to notice his presence eventually. 

he doesn’t know what he was expecting. 

you lift your head, and eye-contact is made. none of you chooses to speak a word. 

you’re as beautiful as the day he first met you.

you stand on your feet and you step on the cigarette, on the emotional connection he swore you had, crushing it under the weight of your boot. 

he blinks away the tears threatening to escape his eyes. he should say something; offer an apology for intruding on a vulnerable moment, but you walk past him before he could form the words, shoulder harshly bumping against him. 

could have it been on purpose? 

“____!” he says your name for the first time, for what sounds like a plea. he follows you home like a lost puppy. “i’m sorry, i-i wasn’t… i thought you were another person… are you okay?”

“what do you think?” you spit out. the delicate voice he knows isn’t there, gone harsh and hoarse. 

“is there anything i can do?”

no response. 

he tries again. “anything at all?” 

“oh my god, can’t you take a hint? leave me alone!” 

your sudden outburst sends him stumbling backwards, the sensation of your hands on his chest still lingering despite the distance that was forcefully created between the two of you. 

“i don’t know you! stay away from me!” 

your infuriated voice echoes throughout the lobby. he is shocked. dumbfounded. his eyes, out of focus, seek your face, and he finds you heaving with tearful eyes. 

he makes an attempt to speak, something to defend himself with, but in the end, he still says, “i’m sorry.” 

a woman walks out of the elevator, and you immediately enter without looking back. jungkook remains standing where he is, with strangers’ eyes on him as if he has committed a grave crime.

—

you slam the door shut, hand still covering your mouth shut despite no one being around to hear your cries. you don’t bother turning on the lights. your shoulder bag falls somewhere on the floor and you collapse on the bed, still in your jeans and your heels hanging off your feet. 

nothing matters anymore.

you’re suffering the punishment of somebody else’s crime. you’ve been casted out, stripped away of your dreams and your dignity. your life is over and you’ve accepted that, but maybe you haven’t. all is unfair. you’re so fucking angry but you’re too tired to feel it. and you’re alone. so alone. no one is on your side and it’s not fair. 

you try to scream out, anything to release your pent-up rage, but it doesn’t happen. apparently, that’s what happens when enough people tell you to bite your tongue raw. 

they say we curl up into the fetal position as a natural response to stress and anxiety because it mimics the sense of security we had when we were in our mother’s womb. the way you see it, your body will always be yours and it is the only one that you need.

so you curl up and you put your arms around yourself. you pat your own back until your wrist falls limp from exhaustion, and you keep your eyes closed until you fall into a deep sleep.  

you pray to god that you never wake up.

—

you fail to achieve peace even in your dreams. in what is supposedly an imaginary land, you were being chased by faceless agitators with torches and pitchforks. you were crying and screaming, running on bare and bloody feet, tripping on branches and the stones they were throwing. 

you open your eyes to darkness.

just as you predicted; nobody listens. 

you feel nothing anymore and you hope it stays that way. if you can’t escape it, then perhaps, you can be desensitized to its horrors. 

you force yourself to sit up on the bed, spending an unknown length of time staring into the void. 

the first coherent thought formed in your head… no, not a thought… a person. 

your bare feet brave the cold floor. the switch of the desk lamp is flicked as you sit at your desk. you grab a pen to write something on the free space of your opened journal pages. 

under those numbers, you note down the name of the owner in cursive.

—

after the shitshow that transpired earlier, sleep became impossible for jungkook. 

he doesn’t quite understand how he feels about you. however, it’s currently clear that there’s a part of him that’s pissed off. you made yourself very clear. he should maintain distance from now on. that’s the sensible, respectable thing to do. at this point, attempts at initiating any form of relationship with you appear to be futile. you’re a stranger to him, as you emphasized. this shouldn’t be as complicated as it is in his head… but fuck, the memories of your tear-stained face is corrupting his ability to rationalize.

it’s 2:33am. he’s been playing the guitar infront of the camera for an hour and a half already. the comment section is flooded by sleep-deprived people like him, sending song requests and questions about his personal life. 

yes, he’s about to be in third year college. 

no, he doesn’t have a girlfriend. 

no, he can’t mention where he lives… but sure, he can sing ‘beautiful’ by crush. 

“what do you mean? i just finished playing it ten seconds ago!” he squints as he scrolls through the new wave of comments. “sorry, art commissions are still closed. i’m behind on my workload… no, i’m not sleepy! don’t send me to bed yet… knees by iu? i love that song. should i play that next?”

his phone vibrates with a new text message, nearly causing it to fall from the stack of books he set it up on. 

“oh- what was tha- what do i do? wait, everyone. i need to check on something!”

the live is temporarily put on pause. 

“who is this?”

his eyebrows knit in confusion when he is greeted by an unregistered phone number.

  2:45am

hi, jungkook. this is ____. i wanted to apologize for my behavior at the lobby earlier. i understand you were only concerned. i’m so sorry. i’d love to buy you coffee some time to make it up to you, if that’s ok. 

this is real, right? he’s awake. he’s not hallucinating. the text message indicates your name and it says that you’d love to buy him coffee some time. 

a gasp leaves his mouth, his hand flying up to seal his lips. 

you texted him. you finally texted him.

he was starting to get convinced that you also threw away his number, but you didn’t! 

he weakly sets down the phone, brain still processing the message you sent. does this make sense?

“i shouldn’t reply right away… maybe in the morning…” he nods to affirm myself. “that’s right.” 

he begins chuckling out of nowhere. soon enough, those chuckles become chortles. he must be going insane. he picks up the phone and reads the message again. 

“she sounds pretty even in chat. how is that possible?” he spins on his chair, so carefree. “but honestly, is one coffee enough for what she did?” 

he shakes his head with a click his tongue. 

“i don’t think so…”

hold on…

it feels like he’s forgetting something…

“ah, the live!” he jumps on his seat in panic. 

he swipes out of the text message to go back to the app where he abandoned his thousand viewers.

“sorry, i made money.” he mumbles to himself. “i should end it now.” 

—

his mood has done a 180. his routine consists of feeding the fishes dinner, and then himself, but he decided to skip the second part earlier for reasons that he has forgotten by now. 

his stomach growls at his selfish decision. 

given the time, he considered food delivery, but the fee made him exit the app immediately. he hasn’t gone to the grocery store as of recent either. the fridge has been wasting electricity, but his pride won’t let him turn it off. 

how did people live without convenience stores before? that is what jungkook marvels about as he crosses the long hallway to reach the elevator. 

a door ahead opens, and he would ignore it if not for one of the two people who comes out from the other side of it. 

there is a man in his late 20’s, and then there is… you. 

you are the deer and jungkook is the blinding headlights. 

—

the coffee you originally offered jungkook has turned into a full meal. when you arrived at the convenience store, he knew what he wanted right away. he grabbed the biggest cup of ramyeon and tteokbokki, an egg, sausage, and cheese. he refused to let you pay for them at first, but there was nothing left to do after you handed the cashier the money. 

the action was done out of obligation rather than will, but seeing how much he’s enjoying the food, you’re a little less displeased with the circumstances. 

“is that all you’re eating? we can share mine.” 

“it’s okay. i’m not that hungry.” 

with the money you had left, you were able to afford a roll of gimbap. maybe it’s not enough to make you full, but it’s enough to satiate your hunger. you slowly chew the food in your mouth, an effort to hide your smile as you discretely observe jungkook devour his rabokki. 

“the man from earlier, is he your brother?”

your chewing is put on pause. “how did you know?” 

“how? it’s easy!” 

he cheekily points at his nose using his chopsticks. 

“you have the exact same nose.” 

“ugh,” you grimace. “i’m tired of hearing that.” 

your list of similarities ends there. he’s the golden child and you’re the black sheep. if your parents find out that he comes to visit you and he sends you money, they’d only see you in worse light.

“i know,” jungkook scrunches his nose. “i have an older brother too.” 

cute. 

“so… why did you lie?”

he’s seriously asking you like this? so casually?

you awkwardly set down your food on the table and you take your time sipping at your coffee to buy yourself some time.

—

“i was embarrassed with what happened before… me crying at the boat and everything…”

you’re having a hard time looking at jungkook in the eye. sensing your discomfort, he wants to punch himself for being so careless with his tone. until moments before, he felt too offended to consider the fact that you never owed him an explanation. 

“you don’t have to be. it’s okay.” he reassures you. “we all have bad days.”

it doesn’t work the way that he thought it would. when you start laughing, he is lost. 

“did i say something funny?” he chuckles along nervously. 

“that quote, ‘it’s just a bad day, not a bad life.’” 

“yeah?” 

“it’s the opposite for me. it’s not just a bad day; it’s a bad life.”  

you speak with such endearing humor and it works like a charm in making the atmosphere lighter. he’d pass it off as a self-deprecating joke, but based on your few yet impactful encounters so far, he doesn’t think you’re stretching the truth far. if he’s being honest, if your first meeting happened differently, he’d assume that you’re living a perfectly comfortable life based on your appearance alone.

“even now, i’m too embarrassed to show my face to you. but we’re neighbors, so i’ll try to get over it.”

“tell you what, let’s start with a clean slate.” he eagerly makes a proposal. “you can erase all the embarrassing memories of you from my brain.”

“h-how do i do that?” 

“flick my forehead!”

you blink, eyes darting around as you try to make sense of what he said. “i was expecting some sort of stupid hypnosis.”

“or that,” he switches up, slapping the table as if you just came up with something revolutionary. 

why did he say flick his forehead anyway? he knows you gotta have an overwhelming amount of pent-up emotions. you could go deku on him and blow his head off. 

“let’s do that!”

“no, i like it.” you almost interrupt him. “i’ll flick your forehead.” 

but he did suggest it… and you act so gentle and sophisticated. he doubts that you would make it hurt. 

“here i go!”

he gets his bangs out of the way. “okay!”

he squeezes his eyes shut, bracing himself for impact. “please have mercy.” 

son of a bitch. that hurt. 

“ow!” he rubs the affected area, face twisting in pain. his eyes flicker to you in disbelief. “you didn’t hold back, huh?!” 

you smile at him sweetly. “did it work?”

  —

“you fed them, right?”

“of course i did. you?”

“yes, this morning.”

“okay, that’s good.”

you and jungkook sit in silence after that, eyes twinkling with wonder as they follow the stunning movements of the goldfishes. 

deep inside, he’s feeling restless. you make him nervous, and he’s also nervous about you noticing that he’s nervous. it’s been a tireless cycle. 

he sneaks a glance at you.

perhaps he’s overthinking again. it seems like you don’t even care that he’s less than an arm’s length from you. 

he doesn’t know whether to be relieved or annoyed. 

he sighs without a sound, comfortably leaning all of his weight on the couch. 

“it’s called the dreamboat.”

“what is?” 

the boat you cried in— can’t say that. you might flick his forehead again. 

“at the amusement park.” 

“oh…”

it falls silent. 

jungkook is thankful when you have a follow-up question because he hasn’t thought of a new topic yet. 

“i wonder why they called it that.”

“oh, because the owner’s daughter loves boats!” he shares one of the few fun facts he learned over the past year. “that’s why it was designed like it came from a fairy tale too.” 

a mirthful smile forms on your face “my guess was too far off.” 

“what was it?” 

“mhmm,” you hum, folding your arms over your chest. “dreamboat is a word used to describe a handsome man, right?”

jungkook nods his head like he knew that all along. no, he didn’t. 

“so i imagined the owner met their handsome partner on a boat- no, or a ship,” the epiphany hits you in the middle of your sentence. “they have to be rich since they built an amusement park.”

a romantic. you imagined a love story based on a word alone. jungkook’s teeth dig into his lower lip as he tries to tame his wide grin. 

“that does sound like a good theory.” he casually bends over, resting his elbows over his spread thighs. “i think i like it better than the truth.”

“how did you know that though? the truth?”

he shrugs. “i work there.”

“you work there?” your voice goes up a pitch. “i didn’t know…”

“you? do you study or work?”

“call center,” you answer to get it over with. to his surprise, your body language shifts and you’re now facing him. “what’s it like working there? is it fun?” 

apparently, a job at the amusement park is now joining his very short list of your interests: after motorbikes, smoking, and fishes.

“it has good days and bad days…” he trails off. he hasn’t truly given this much thought, so he’s also learning about himself. “but i didn’t expect it to be as fun as it is. sometimes it’s boring, but when it’s fun, it’s really fun.”

you scoot closer. “do you get to ride for free?”

ah, yes, the deciding factor when he was offered the job. 

“there’s an employee discount, actually! but i do it for free anyway…” he shyly scratches his head. “don’t tell anyone i said that.” 

“i don’t have anyone to tell.” 

his heart skips a beat when he hears your laugh genuinely for the first time. quiet and delicate and airy— you grace this blue summer night like a spring breeze that takes away with it everything that burdens your mind and heart. 

once again, the aquarium becomes the most interesting collection of atoms in the building. as for him, he is still unable to keep his eyes off you. 

“did you have a pet fish growing up? you really like them a lot.”

“no,” you reply. “i didn’t care about them until now.”

“really?” his eyes grow wide. “wow, i seriously thought you were a marine life enthusiast, or something like that.” 

you give him a look. “i thought you were a marine life enthusiast.”

“we were both wrong.” he shrugs. “but what made you care about them so much now?”

“i don’t know. i just thought of something when i was looking at them.” 

he feels your hesitance to continue. your eyes connect briefly and he communicates that he’s listening with an open mind.

“they’re different from other pets, you know, like cats and dogs. they can’t make a sound when they’re in pain.” 

in the dark room, he sees the melancholy seeping from the cracked edges of you. although you act relaxed, your spoken thoughts paint the picture of a person whose sensitivity and sympathy touch upon everything. 

“there should at least be somebody who cares enough to check up on them and make sure that they’re alive and well.” 

“…and you wanted to be that somebody for them.” he concludes with a hushed voice, more to himself than you. 

“but it turns out they have you already.”

“it’s not just me now.”

he mirrors your soft smile. it’s nice to see your frown turned upside down for a change. what was weighing down on him has become lighter, and he hopes it’s the same for you.

“the sun is about to rise.” you announce after a peek at the grandfather clock. “we should go home.”

jungkook isn’t a big fan of comfortable silence, but he can get used to it. he maintains a respectable distance from you in the elevator, engaging himself with the ascending number of floors on the screen. when the door opens, you’re the first to step out and he follows suit. 

your destination isn’t far. you pause in front of unit 1303.

“uhm, this is me.” 

yup, the same door he saw you come out of. 

“i’m not far, just at the end of the hall. 1311, if you ever need anything.”

your eyes trace the direction of where he’s pointing before you nod in understanding. with a hand gripping the door handle, you offer him one final smile.

“goodnight, jungkook.”

—

if others cheese over good morning texts first thing after opening their eyes, then jungkook’s case is one of a kind. 

he rolls over to his side, puffy eyes from sleep forming thinner crescent moons as he zooms in on your reflection on the glass. 

  10:08am

[attached image]

they’re happy and fed :)

10:10am

[attached image]

babies are getting bigger

this is how his mornings have been going for the past two weeks. he wakes up and he checks his phone for fish breakfast updates from you. in return, he sends fish dinner updates to you at night. he was the first one to send you a picture following the night you awkwardly bumped into each other. he didn’t want to wait around anymore.

were his palms sweaty? did he throw his phone on the bed after? 

no longer relevant. 

he now knows that your favorite color is blue and you have wednesdays and fridays off for the next month. that’s pretty cool. 

another thing he’s taken notice of is that you don’t use emojis or emoticons aside from the smiley face. 

although, there was once a miracle.

he scrolls up until he reaches your conversation from four days ago.

  11:59pm

LOL i’m actually allergic to seafood ㅜㅜ

😭😭😭

“ah, i’m annoyed!” he kicks his feet; half of the blanket falls to the floor. “she’s so cute!” 

things are indeed going great, greater than he imagined, but if he has to complain, he wishes he could see you in person more. he’s at work when you’re home and vice versa, so you don’t cross paths despite living on the same apartment floor. that 3am encounter was a rare phenomenon, it turns out. he chanced upon you a few times while running to work and you were feeding the fishes breakfast, but those conversations were barely conversations. 

‘i just thought of something when i was looking at them… they can’t make a sound when they’re in pain.’

he hasn’t stopped thinking about that. 

—

“when are you asking her out on a date?”

taehyung is on a mission to tease him for life even from daegu. he’s only thankful that his best friend isn’t video calling him from the toilet again because he’s currently having his lunch. 

“i don’t know.” he grouches. “it doesn’t feel like the right time. i don’t want to scare her off.” 

“when’s that ‘right time’?” 

“i’ll figure it out…” he sighs, setting down the half-eaten sandwich on the table. “how do i say it…? i feel like- hm, she’s no- she’s not in the best emotional state right now.” 

“so you admit it,” taehyung raises an eyebrow, smirking. “she has issues.”

that didn’t sit right with jungkook at all. he feels obligated to defend your honor. 

“hey, stop being rude. you haven’t even met her yet.” 

“come on, bro! i’m only looking out for you.” 

the atmosphere shifts into a more serious tone.

“i don’t want you to get hurt trying to fix another person again. it was hard to watch.”

he moved on and learned his lesson— he wants to spit out as a rebuttal, but his best friend gave him much to think about. would it make sense to say that he’s moved on but he hasn’t healed? 

“i know,” is what he ends up saying absentmindedly, distracted by thoughts that he isn’t keen on sharing. 

and as if he’s been slapped back into reality, he fixes his posture and picks up his sandwich. “so, what’s up? have you even slept yet?”

“no,” taehyung responds nonchalantly. between the two of them, he absolutely has the more fucked up sleeping schedule. “i’ve been awake since 12am.”

“didn’t you say you’d spend the entire vacation sleeping?”

“this vacation was a trap.”

the camera darts to the abandoned mop on the floor.

“my mom makes me do all the chores everyday. this is worse than my actual job!” 

a devilish grin is drawn on jungkook’s face. ah, the grass is always greener on the other side.

  

—

“mondays stay to be a pain in the ass.”

does it look like he’s exhausted and dirty from chasing around children all day? jungkook is stressed as he checks himself out on his front camera. he’s walking home from the bus stop after clocking out of work. 

the street is mostly quiet, until a roaring engine approaches and he cringes at the raucous sound assaulting his eardrums. he’s already at the sidewalk for his safety and in accordance with the law, but he feels compelled to stay further back and wait for the vehicle to pass by. 

seconds later, a black harley races past.

jungkook is dumbfounded as he tries to piece the puzzle together. 

the lights are bright, and your pink hair blowing with the wind is even brighter. 

“w-was that…?”

—

he was going to bring it up over text last night, but he decided to reserve it for physical conversation because he wants to see your face light up again. 

you’re so fucking cool. 

he’s both amazed and envious. 

also, he’s pretty damn sure that you’re rich. he doesn’t understand why you’re living in this place and enduring the graveyard shift at the call center. 

a foolish smile is permanently plastered on his face as he sketches a commissioned digital portrait. he really should focus, or else he might end up drawing you instead of his client. 

he spins on his chair, pushing the wheels towards the bed, where he comfortably extends his feet over. almost missed it. the power has been out for an hour and he doesn’t expect it to come back until dawn. he was pissed about this being a normal occurrence during the first year of his stay here, but he’s gotten quite used to it. invested in a powerbank that almost looks like it can charge a car’s battery and he’s all set. 

the aggressive pounding at the door drowns out the pop ballad he’s listening to.

“what? who could it be at this hour?” 

he pauses the song, turning up the brightness of his ipad to use it as a makeshift flashlight. 

the last person he expected to appear at his door says the last thing he expected them to say. 

“jungkook, i think there’s a ghost in my apartment.”

—

jungkook sets down a hot cup of tea infront of you. in his mind, he thanks himself for keeping everything his mom sends him, even the things he do not like. 

“thanks,” you mumble, picking it up by the handle. 

he patiently sits on the other side of the table for two, giving you the time to calm yourself down from the horror that you witnessed. he has his emergency light propped up on the kitchen counter. he was saving it for when he finds himself in a grave situation, like a total blackout or an apocalypse. he didn’t imagine he’d end up using it for an unusual night like this. 

“are you feeling better?” he asks worriedly.

you nod. “yeah, i just don’t want to be alone right now.” 

“i’m here. you can stay until whenever you want.”

“thank you.”

you sigh with your eyes closed. you look like life has been drained out of you. 

“i’m really scared, jungkook.”

“are you sure about what you saw? i mean, it’s dark. your mind could’ve been playing tricks on you.”

“i saw him. i really him saw him!” you frantically defend yourself. “i was washing my hands then i turned around and i saw him, sitting at the edge of my bed! he looked at me!” 

his heart drops to his stomach when your chin begins to wobble and he sees your eyes glistening with unshed tears. 

“and his skin was burnt off, jungkook.” you enunciate the words to emphasize the severity of what you experienced. “it’s so horrifying, i had to run.” 

“hey hey hey- it’s okay. i believe you.” he squeezes your cold, trembling hands. “you’re safe now. it’s only us here. no spirits- i promise.” 

he’s losing his mind a little bit. he’s holding the hands of the girl he likes and her pinky is wrapped around his. you’ve been putting him through a rollercoaster that, for once, he is terrified of. he wants to bask in this moment… but the specific detail you revealed is bothering him.

“and you said… he was burnt?” 

“yeah, why?”

he presses his lips in a thin line, shaking his head. “no, it’s nothing.”

“there’s something.” you stop crying. “i see it on your face.”

“i swear, it's nothing!”

“you’re lying!” you accuse him. “what is it?”

“forget it, ____.”

“jungkook,” you say his name sternly. “tell me.”

shit, he’s done for. you can’t do this to him when he’s trying to protect you.

he swallows nervously. “but i don’t want to scare you.” 

“i saw a ghost. what else can scare me?”

“the truth is…” he pauses, still weighed down by hesitance. but he realizes he has reached the point of no return. also, you’re squeezing his hands a little too tight. “this building had to be restored. it burned down a decade ago. people suspect there was foul play, but the firemen said it was faulty wiring.” 

he’s the one telling the story, but he also feels chills run down his spine. 

“oh… so you’re saying…”

“i… believe so?” he winces with a mix of guilt and fear. “but it’s the first time i’m hearing of a ghost story here. i haven’t had any encounter either.” 

“i need to move.” you declare, not an ounce of humor in your voice. 

“don’t!” he protests. 

perhaps a little too passionately. could he be any more obvious? 

“what do you mean? you need to leave too!”

“i can’t,” he fakes a pained expression. “who’s going to take care of the fishes?” 

that works like a charm. 

you untangle your hands and lean against the chair, transforming into a pensive state. 

if he wasn’t going to convince you to stay, the fishes would. 

“fuck,” you curse in a low whisper, sipping on your tea. 

—

“i’m not the spoiled brat you think i am.” you frown, dangling your feet from the bed. “i sleep on the floor too.” 

“i’d be rude if i let you do that.” jungkook insists as he fluffs his pillow. “i’m comfortable right here. i’m used to it.” 

he was relieved that you weren’t stubborn enough to go back to your place and force yourself to sleep there. after seeing how terrified you were, it would’ve been impossible for him to close his eyes and shut down his brain from worrying. he hasn’t seen a ghost, but they have to be real. he likes to believe that we do not cease to exist and we have some place to go when we die. however, that does co-exist with being alarmed by a ghost of a burnt body sitting on your bed. he isn’t going to let you go back in there tonight. no way.

“you should get some rest. just tell me if you need anything, okay?”

“thank you, jungkook.” 

“it’s no problem!”

his name sounds so sweet when it comes from your lips. he can’t help but to feel giddy every time he hears it. 

you lie down on the bed, facing the portable fan strategically set up on jungkook’s gaming chair. on the other hand, the emergency light is at the nightstand, acting as a night lamp. 

he checks the time on his ipad: 1:48am. his battery percentage: 55%. he’s not yet sleepy, so he decides to continue working until he gets the low battery warning for 20%. 

sitting down without back support becomes too uncomfortable after a while, especially when drawing. he doesn’t realize it when he changes positions, too focused on drawing the intricate floral patterns on the client’s blouse. 

“is that your girlfriend?” 

jungkook turns his head towards the voice and your face is only inches away from his. the word stops for a moment.

“is she okay with me sleeping here?” 

he scoots a little further away to grant his racing heart some mercy. “u-uhmm, no.”

“no…?” you repeat slowly, sounding concerned.

“no, as in she’s not my girlfriend!” he further elaborates in distress. “i don’t have a girlfriend.”

“okay, cool. you scared me.” you huff out a chuckle. “i don’t like being the girl who causes problems.” 

“no, you’re safe.” he manages to also laugh. “no one’s coming to pull your hair.”

“then who is she?” you point at the screen with your pouted lips, particularly the reference photo that’s been burnt to his memory. 

“a client. people pay me to draw them.”

“oh, so she’s one of your french girls?” you crack a humorous remark.

the reference catches him off guard, even though he should’ve totally seen it coming.

he squints. “mhmmm, i guess? kind of like that… except they’re not, you know, naked.”

“i see,” you hum in interest. “you don’t like doing nude drawings?” 

“honestly? i don’t know. i’ve never done it before.” 

“no one’s asked you?”

he shakes his head. “no one,”

“would you do mine if i ask you to?” 

he secretly pinches his thigh to prove that he’s not dreaming. 

what the fuck?

did he hear you right? 

it sounded like such a genuine and casual question in the name of art, but the worst thing he could do while his crush is sleeping over is to imagine her naked. he feels the warmth spread across his cheeks, possibly reaching his ears. 

“hey, breathe!” you giggle with a push of his shoulder. “you don’t have to answer that. sorry if it made you uncomfortable.”

“sorry, i was just surprised.” 

he forces himself to laugh and act like the question isn’t putting him through a crisis in so many levels. 

“i’ll let you finish your work.” you smile at him, pulling up the blanket. 

please do and stop shaking up my heart. 

“goodnight.” 

“goodnight, ____.” 

—

jungkook is still flustered by the conversation. since you opened up the topic, he did give it some serious thought. he thinks he wouldn’t mind if someone asked him to do it. he makes all of his negotiations and transactions online so everyone so far have been a stranger. as for the people he personally know, unless it’s his significant other, wouldn’t it be awkward? 

anyway, the chances of it happening are low. stressing over it is pointless.

he needs to finish this commission and move on to the next, or else he’d be encumbered by the pile of deadlines. he’s making the most out of this vacation so he can save more money and work won’t have to interfere so often with his studies. 

sometimes he doesn’t understand why he works so hard either. his family isn’t struggling financially. in fact, he’s studying to take over their businesses. his parents have been nothing but kind and supportive, but he is never compelled to ask them for money. he feels this strong and all-consuming need to prove himself as capable and independent. nothing compares to the gratification of buying his wants and needs with the money he sacrificed his blood, sweat, and tears for. he can’t stop himself.

“i can’t sleep…” a quiet murmur reaches his ears. “may i watch you draw?” 

oh, he thought you’ve fallen asleep twenty minutes ago. 

“of course,” 

he is more than happy to move closer to give you a good view of his progress. 

if there’s one thing he isn’t ashamed to boast about— it’s this. 

it’s silent except for your breathing and the taps of his pen on the screen. he’s a tad self-conscious with the presence of engrossed eyes, but he would describe the atmosphere as peaceful. 

“you’re such a great artist.” you whisper in awe. 

jungkook can’t recall the last time he felt this simple yet profound type of joy. 

—

true to your words, you did move as morning came. 

jungkook wakes up to an empty bed and a commotion outside. 

“____?” 

he knocks on the bathroom door, not expecting it to swing open from the action. he takes his chances and peeks inside with another call of your name, but you’re still nowhere to be seen. 

did you really leave without saying goodbye? 

he sighs in disappointment. he was planning on buying you breakfast, too. he knew it. he should’ve made the invitation last night. 

a series of loud thumps prompts him to scratch his head in irritation. he’s tired and sleep-deprived and he didn’t see his crush’s face first thing in the morning. the day has barely started and it’s already a bad one.

he opens the door with a considerable force, mouth running before his eyes could perceive his surroundings. 

“could you guys turn it down? people are still slee-”

“jungkook! you’re awake.” 

you jog over to him with a more cheery expression than last night’s. there’s no windows but the sun is shining over his face.

“sorry about the noise. i’m moving to a new unit.”

he can see that, but his brain remains in a muddled state. how did you make the arrangements overnight? he gapes at the men hauling your things to your new apartment.

“1309?” he exclaims.

“yeah,” you shyly reply. “it’s the only vacant one left.” 

almost but not quite. does he have the right to complain? you’d be one door away. 

he’s fucking ecstatic. 

if he just sets aside the fact that it took a ghastly ghost encounter for the stars to align. 

the wrinkles on his forehead disappear and become crinkles by his eyes, accompanied by an excited beam. 

“should we feed them together then grab breakfast after?” 

—

time passes by too fast for jungkook’s liking. summer vacation ended a month ago and he’s back to busting his ass off at the university. he misses the days and nights when the only thing he was going insane about is you. 

what’s taking you so long to reply? did he say something stupid? does he look nice? smell nice? are you crying again? that ghost isn’t bothering you again, is he? 

now that he needs to focus on something less interesting, say studying taxation and business law for subsequent long quizzes tomorrow, he’s back to crushing cans of energy drinks. 

fuck, he misses you. 

your purple hair tie is still wrapped around the knob of his bathroom sink faucet and he keeps forgetting to give it back to you. you make him nervous but he forgets he ever felt that way after five minutes with you. he craves to be connected with you on a more intimate level. he wants to be more than just a neighbor you make small talk with, over text. he wants to be more than a friend you sometimes eat with, on your days off. but he likes you so much that he can be content with the way things are, so long as it means you won’t go further away. 

he’s absolutely pumped to hear his friends berate him for being stupid enough to enjoy the bare minimum from a woman. 

an email notification interrupts his intense cramming session with his ipad and his illegally downloaded ebooks.

No Name

Subject: IMPORTANT! READ ME! 

snack break at the aquarium? 

he already has a strong inkling on who the sender could be; he clicks the email address and unsurprisingly, it says that it’s you. 

did you seriously go out of your way to email him because he told you that he was going to keep his phone turned off while studying? 

ridiculous. 

so cute and ridiculous. 

—

“i brought your favorite.” you meekly present your gift to jungkook. “uh, actually i’m not sure if it’s your favorite. but it’s become mine since you gave it to me.”

jungkook gapes at the bag of his favorite gummies sitting on his lap. just for comparison, the packet he gave you that day you first met came from his pocket. this one is almost as wide as his thighs slightly spread apart. 

but most importantly, what did you just say?

“y-you didn’t throw it away?”

“what are you saying?” you pout, a little hurt by the question. “why would i throw it away?”

“you should’ve. you can’t just accept food from strangers!” 

he was being pretty before. he humbly admits that. he just wanted an excuse to bring you up so he whined about it for weeks, but he was never genuinely upset. not specifically about that, anyway.

“why are you so upset?” you match the rise of his voice. “i’m fine and we ended up being friends. now say ‘thank you’ and open it!”

“ah, sure-” he panics, fumbling with the zigzag edges of the packaging. you were kind of hot for that. “thank you! this was seriously so thoughtful of you.” 

you nod in satisfaction, stealing a gummy worm the second that the plastic is torn open. “you’re welcome!”

—

  “i should stop eating.” jungkook mumbles to himself, chewing the other half of his nth gummy worm of the night. 

“yeah,” you agree, pulling your hand away from the bag with an impressive show of restraint. “we should.”

the two of you probably look bizarre in the eyes of strangers, particularly those who have seen you one too many nights admire the golden creatures like you’re being hypnotized and nothing else in the world matters. jungkook never knows what’s running in your head, but to him, these moments are all about being beside you. the loud beating of his heart could be attributed to the caffeine, or the bare skin of your knees touching and no one daring to move. 

“the tank feels…” there is a delay as you search for the appropriate word. “dull. can’t there be more variety of plants?” 

“i tried,” he laughs at the funny memory you evoked. “when i came back the next day, two of them already ate everything.”  

you gasp. “everything? is that normal?” 

he opens his mouth to speak, but you unknowingly interrupt him with a raise of your hand.

“okay, i’m searching on naver.” 

jungkook behaves for the fifteen minutes that follow, sneaking a peek at your phone screen every now and then with squinted eyes. you read fast, and your knees shake when you have to think hard. they’re small things. they don’t matter that much. but they’re still parts of your entirety which he is to be well-aquainted with. 

“according to this person, we can try giving them marimo moss balls to play with… and hmmm-” you hum, lips puckering into a pout. “then for plants, anubias and java ferns?” 

“i still know the address of the place i bought the plants from before. we can go when you’re free.” he offers, jumping on the opportunity to spend time with you outside of this building. 

“you free sunday?” 

“is the afternoon alright? i have to go to uni in the morning.” 

please say yes.

“sure, that works.”

he breaks into a triumphant smile. 

yes! 

—

jungkook has been looking forward to this day all week. he breezed through work and college, motivated to finish all his tasks so he could enjoy his time with you without any worries. he knows it’s not a date, but anyone can be excited to meet up with a friend.

“you look pretty.” he smiles, breaking the silence in the elevator. 

“you can barely see my face.” 

“i see it!”

your nonchalance slowly fades, seemingly replaced by unease, which confuses jungkook. you put on a white face mask from the pocket of your hoodie before facing him. 

“now you don’t!” you banter with him playfully. 

“too late,” he sticks his tongue out. “i can draw it from memory.” 

this is your usual day outfit, a basic classic. a hoodie paired with shorts and sneakers. the face mask is part of it too. in a crowd, you could be anyone, even him, if only your hair doesn’t stand out among the neutrals. he likes it. he likes how you match outfits without trying to. you get more dressed up at night, which makes sense since you go to work. 

“so you can draw me even if i flash you just once?” 

scandalized, he almost chokes on his own spit. “____!”

“i’m joking!” you giggle.

“no, please do it.” he encourages you in jest.

that earns him a slap on the face. he touches the affected area. it didn’t hurt at all, you did it with a light hand, but he gapes at you dumbstruck. 

“you can joke about it but i can’t?!” 

you only laugh at his reaction. he also imagines that he looks funny. not long after, the elevator opens and you drag him out by his hand.

—

the cashier pushes back your extended hand. “sorry, we don’t accept card payments.” 

while you pout sadly at the rejection, jungkook rushes to grab the wallet that you made him hide because this was your ‘idea.’ 

“here,” he puts down the paper bills on the counter.

“i’ll pay you back.” 

“no, it’s fine. my treat for the fishes since they’d probably eat them anyway.” he jokes to comfort you.

“yeah, okay,” you respond listlessly. “then i’ll buy our dinner. samgyupsal?”

“call!” 

jungkook guesses you have come to know him well too. 

“okay, let’s go.”

he invites you to leave after the cashier gives him the paper bag. as you walk out together, your shoulders brush, and for a brief moment, he assumes that you would cling to him. he doesn’t know why he keeps doing that. you never do. he continues walking and he doesn’t even notice that he has left you behind.

the door is half-open and he’s stood in place, eyes scanning the store like he just lost a child at the mall. 

of course, he finds you hunched over infront of an aquarium inhabited by a betta fish. 

“do you want to get it?” he whispers, mindful of scaring away the little creature. “i don’t think i’ve seen a purple fish before.”

not even in art or television. it’s strange. 

he feels your eyes glued to him. persuaded by curiosity, he turns his cheek. 

his breathing stops when he sees your face so close. 

he doesn’t know you removed your mask. you’re staring at him so intensely with those beautiful  eyes, sparkling with the reflections of light. you’re dazzling, and intimidating, and it’s doing dangerous things to his heart.

a little nudge and he’d give you an eskimo kiss. 

if there’s a perfect romantic moment to kiss your lips, he’d say it’s right now. 

“it’s not the fish i want.” 

he doesn’t hear you. 

do you see how entranced he is by your lips? 

“the shipwreck, it’s beautiful.”

his eyes chase the sight of them when you return your gaze to the aquarium. 

“like you,” the words slip out without thought.

—

a soft smile tugs at the corner of your lips. you blink away the tears and you stomach the heavy in your chest. you know jungkook is still staring at you with those bedroom eyes and there was no deep thought behind his compliment. will he still find you beautiful when he sees who you are beyond the surface? 

“like me…”

— 

after dinner, you and jungkook planted the plants and installed the shipwreck you wanted. it was not cheap, but it was worth it, if it meant seeing your priceless joy. he carries around more cash than necessary when he goes out with you. he’s praying that you didn’t see his sigh of relief when the waiter said the restaurant accepts card. he doesn’t know much about your circumstances, why you stopped going to school and why you opted to work instead, but he knows you lead a lifestyle different from his. he’s not ignorant. he estimates your bag is five times more expensive than his ipad. but with how you’re soundly sleeping on his shoulder, he can say that it’s justified. 

he learns that you’ve been working straight for fifteen days, with 10-20 hours of overtime per week. you practically live there. he can feel the weight of your shoulders on him, which is why he doesn’t have the heart to wake you up despite his bladder’s need of the bathroom. this is probably the closest he will ever be to you. he can’t be the one to walk away in this memory. 

the humming noise of the aquarium’s filter fills the silence.

it always feels like he’s dreaming when he’s with you.

“after all that money we spent, we should really name them now.” 

you release the yawn you were holding back while speaking, head dropping on his shoulder. jungkook stiffens at the suddenness of the physical contact, but then relaxes thanks to the tranquilizing scent of your shampoo— it has to be coconut, with some sort of flowers that perfectly compliment it.  

“have any ideas?”

“yes,” he hears the smile in your voice. “you know those two who have similar hues?”

he hums, body vibrating underneath your soft cheek.

“tangerine, and then clementine for the smaller one.” 

“those are cute names.”

“you like them?”

“yes, they really sound like siblings!”

“okay, i won.” you shrug your shoulders as far as they can go, as if you’re so pleased you could burst. “that’s settled. your turn!”

“hmmm…” 

he unconsciously bounces his knee as he racks his brain, which you swat with a disapproving noise, mumbling “making me dizzy!”

“sorry,” he winces.

your giggles are infectious, bringing tickles somewhere deep inside of him, butterflies in his stomach coming alive like spring only arrived. 

“shouldn’t we at least have one named after a flower?” he suggests. “hold on, i’ll search for good ones.”

“let’s give the flower name to the yellow one. she stands out, like a flower.”

you blink wearily, a soft smile amidst the haze, sent to the yellow fish who swam closer as if it heard itself being called. 

he reads the list of yellow flower names out loud.  

“sunflower, daisy, azalea… for-forthysia? lily, cosmos, dahlia-”

“dahlia-” you quietly repeat the name in awe, clinging to his arm to steal his attention.

“dahlia it is!” 

“i wish dahlia would live forever.” you sigh, haunted by the inevitable. 

“dahlia will outlive us.” he chuckles. 

“i’ll protect her from the afterlife.”

he squeezes your hand tenderly. “i’ll be right there with you.” 

and with unspoken mutual understanding, your fingers intertwine. neither one of you wants to let go, he feels it strongly and he is sure of it. his cheeks may very well begin to ache with how elated he is. 

“that’s three… you know, i saw someone on youtube who named their fish coral. i thought it was a very pretty name. how about that?”

“i like it,” you chirp. “i kind of wish it was my name.” 

“should i just give it to you?”

you lift your head a little, sleepy eyes connecting with his. “do you know someone who has the same name as me?”

“no,” he slowly shakes his head. “you’re the only one.” 

“let’s give it to the one with the longest tail.” 

your head drops on his shoulder, as if it’s where it belongs. 

“i like being the only one.”

you fell asleep seconds after that.

he found entertainment in watching as much as the goldfishes playing around with the shipwreck. it’s a wooden ship split in two, with cracks and holes big enough for them to swim in and out of. even the sails have holes. the drawings on them are unrecognizable beyond his imagination. 

it’s quite charming, but he doesn’t understand what’s special about it the way you do. 

a teardrop drips from the tip of your nose and crashes on his arm, but he doesn’t feel it. 

eventually, it dries, and is erased from history. 

[ifyoucandaniel]

I want to thank you for making your list of recommended long batfam fics. I have been making my way through it and I am really enjoying them! ESPECIALLY cards on the table (I also love Dark Matter but I had already read it). Please let us know if you ever get more long batfam fic recs 🥺

okay so ive been waiting to answer this until i had gathered a good chunk of new long fics and ive been getting a lot of similar messages asking for recommendations, so here is another list of my fav long batman fics!

Jason and the Three Terrors by @cdelphiki, 220k, ongoing, T. if i can get you to read one thing, let it be this. ohhh my god where to even begin, this is a fic where jason stays with the league after his dip in the lazarus pit for a little while and winds up being charged with getting damian, his cousin, and his sister out of the league safely. this fic is just so fucking good, cdelphiki always writes such seamless relationship growth and watching jason go from "im dropping these brats off first chance i get" to "im a single mother of three and i need to provide for my kids" is phenomenal. 1000/10, the writing, the kids, the relationships, please do yourself a favor and read this.

A Collision of Masks by Movaz, 169k, completed, T. !! guys. this is such a good dick grayson-centric fic. this is set in an AU where batman never joined the justice league so the justice league knows very little about batman inc. and consequently dick never joins YJ so the YJ team is tasked with checking out a new hero called nightwing in bludhaven and police officer grayson is tasked with helping the team in their investigation :) really good fic exploring dick juggling all his identities and finally gaining people he can rely on! i actually did a bind of it so you know i love this story so much

Life Happens by @cdelphiki, 176k, complete, G. ok so this fic is probably one of the most beautiful stories of growth and love i've read. its about tim and damian being transported from their world into ours where they're only comic book characters and they start to build a life for themselves here. cdelphiki is one of the most amazing authors, im currently going through all of their works, but this one has just stayed with me and i dont think anyone should pass it up. watching tim and damian grow together and seeing damian have a real childhood and just the whole concept of life happening wether you want it to or not is so beautifully done. cannot recommend enough.

Honoring Promises by LananiA3O, completed, 14k, T. okay this isnt actually a long fic, but its one of my favorite fics ever and i need it on this list. if you're like me and you love UTRH aus where instead of sticking around as red hood after bruce threw a batarang at his throat jason fucks off and disappears to live a normal life, this is for you. from dick's pov, he realizes jasons last letter was a last attempt at reaching out and stalks him until he finds out what really happened to his little brother. i think about this every day and wish it was 10000 words long

The Time Before by @cdelphiki, 80k, completed, G. at this point this is basically just a cdelphiki fic rec lmao when i said everything by them was good, i meant that shit. this is a fic where jason is sent back into time when he was 9 years old but still has all his memories from the future. he goes to bruce for help despite wanting to do literally anything else and is surprised to realize maybe everything isn't how he remembers it 10 years in the future and maybe theres a chance he can go home when hes older again. once again cdelphiki hitting me in the feels with this one, really amazing study on how time and pain can change how you perceive and remember things and also just forgiveness and fixing mistakes and accepting mistakes were made. very good, highly recommend

Good Fences Make Good Neighbors by Sophene, 80k, completed, batlantern, T. I have no excuse for this, this is such a fun and funny fic i love it so much. basically HOA president single dad bruce with his 10 million adopted kids and then hal jordan moves in next door and plays his music too loud at 10pm on a school night and throws parties and bruce has a stick up his ass about it. i really really love the shift in hal when kyle comes to live with him as his ward (? i cant actually remember if hes adopted or just a ward) and seeing him finally understand why bruce acts the way he does when it comes to his kids. also seeing bruce just being a tired dad 90% of the fic when he isnt glaring at hal is so good.

Option C by CasualGeek, 78k, completed, T. this has, in my opinion, a very unique and interesting premise. basically, what if instead of becoming red hood, jason comes back to gotham and manages to get Joker put on trial for the murder of sheila haywood and get the insanity plea thrown out. really interesting approach to batman and joker and jason technically doing things through the legal justice system and what that means for him and the people around him. very good, read it all in one sitting

butcherbird, fly away home by e_va, 41k, completed, M. lost days jason todd loml! basically what if when jason was off on his world tour one of his tutors kidnapped bruce wayne and jason has feelings about it against his will. "what if lost days jason was stuck in the same room as a sick bruce for more than 10 minutes and actually had to talk to him without punching him" AU and i throughly enjoyed it. @darlingatlas recommended this one and she never misses with the jason recs

this kind of weather by r_astra, 55k, completed, T. this is the fic something in the static was originally inspired by and if you know me, i love that series, and i love this fic too. another what if jasons mom didnt die until later and social services gets involved before he can bolt and bruce seeks him out with some very interesting news. i love fics that display jason’s relationship with crime alley and him being one of them. very good, i love jason so much

ok now these aren't actually long fics but i need to get them out here because i love them so much and highly recommend!

To My Brother by a_silly_gander, 7k, completed, T. Lost days jason au where he starts sending post cards from his travels to dick on a whim while we follow his time away and the people he meets. i love this one so much, please read it if you love jason and dick, its so special to me.

Enhanced Fashion Sense is a Perk of Being a Cat by 12pt_timesnewromanfont, 23k, complete, G. selina breaks into drake manor to steal a cat artifact and accidentally meets the drakes ten year old son they left home alone. then she starts keeping tabs on him and eventually adopts him and makes him stray. i really love selina finding tim before bruce and taking care of him <3 10/10 i wish selina would adopt me

[il-predestinato]

hello beautiful elle

since it is going to be a long 3 months without our boys could you please recommend some fics that you liked? cause i really like your writings and how realistic they are and i wanted to get some of you suggestions for the break!

love you loads

Thank you, lovely anon, for your very kind message! 🥺 I must admit I have fallen behind in reading fics. I am sure I am forgetting some excellent Lestappen fics/writers, but these are some of my all-time favourites!

Lestappen Fic Recs:

And in the end I will seek you out amongst the stars by mandzilkos (@geeeooorrrge) - rating: G, 22k words

Soulmate AU where you see in black and white until you meet your soulmate, and the world goes back to black and white after your soulmate dies. This is ALWAYS the first Lestappen fic that comes to mind whenever anyone asks for a recommendation, and it is probably my all-time favourite. The fic that inspired me to write Lestappen, if I'm honest.

getting half of you just ain't enough by shybear_styles - rating: E, 20k words

The friends with benefits story that spans the 2019 season. The only thing better than amazing smut is amazing smut with feels. For sure a top 5 fic in the Lestappen fandom for me. Also, this author is simply amazing in general and you should read all of her fics! I haven't given up hope that she will return one day and write more Lestappen. 🤧

you feel the mornin' feel by shybear_styles - rating: M, 3.3k words

Remember that time Sebastian Vettel asked Charles, "Is he [Max] pretty?" And we never got an answer because Charles descended into gay panic? Well, worry not! We get an answer in this fic.

Monaco Malaise by ProngsfootxJily (@cupidskissx) - rating: E, 8k words

Rivals with benefits, takes place after the 2021 Monaco Grand Prix. Yes, this one is delicious smut but also a character study. Both of them are written so well, and it leaves you begging for more. Don't forget to check out the equally amazing sequel! (Don't worry, I have been relentlessly harassing her to write the sequel's sequel.)

algorithm by Anney (@badboy-george) - rating: M, 17k words

In a world where F1 uses simulation-based compatibility tests, five times Max doesn't find the right partner and the one time he does. Black Mirror ("San Junipero" and "Hang the DJ") vibes in the best way. Another one of my absolute favourite fics. If you've read any Lestappen fics, you've probably read "Every Other Sunday." This one is simply a masterpiece by the immensely talented Anney; definitely check out her other fics!

panem et circenses by Anney - rating: E, 13.2k words

Wow - simply devastating, haunting, an ode to these two as drivers, set in a dystopian future AU. The world building is absolutely incredible, but at its heart is such a beautiful story of love and hope. This one doesn't get enough recognition. (TW: implied non-con, not between Lestappen.)

Unlearn by wantinghopingwriting (Tazza1993) (@lightsoutfullhearts) - NR, 45k words

This is another all-time favourite, a must-read. Fake/pretend relationship to lovers multi-chapter story that is ever so satisfying; both of them are so well characterized. Set in a parallel-ish 2022 season. I really cannot recommend this one enough.

the edge of what can be loved by Ledger_m (@the-last-jedis) - rating: T, 13k words

The third wheel fic from the perspective of Max and Charles' various "Steves." It's funny, heartwarming, and everyone on the grid is nosy as fuck.

Charles Leclerc vs Red Bull caps by Ledger_m - rating: T, 6.4k words

Charles is the hero we all need, as he goes on a mission to get rid of all of Max's stupid Red Bull caps. This is REQUIRED reading! Kami is a genius. Go read all of her fics.

If You Don't Play, You'll Never Win by antimonyandthyme (@antimonyandthyme) - rating: T, 4.1k

Post 2021 Monaco Grand Prix. Max wants to take their relationship further; Charles... doesn't. Oh my God, where do I begin to describe how much I love this fic. The language is beautiful, both of them are so well-written, and I feel punched in the gut over and over again in the best way. The ending (well, the whole thing) is so damn satisfying.

all's well that ends well (to end up with you) by stylestappen (@stylestappen) - rating: G, 3k words

Max has a meltdown in the cereal aisle (yes, the cereal aisle) at 3 am when he realizes he is in love with Charles despite the latter's questionable taste in cereal. Dani has an absolutely wicked sense of humour! (Although I don't understand what she has against cocoa puffs 😭.) She also wrote a banger of a Lestappen soon-to-be teammates fic, so make sure to check out her profile.

Max Verstappen: Spotify Extraordinaire by frnndtorres - rating: G, 26k words

Max makes Spotify playlists for the grid. Fluffy, funny, care-free, liberal use of nicknames, with a healthy dose of feels between Max and Charles. A really fun read.

i love the way your green eyes mix with that malibu indigo by altissimozucca (@altisssimozucca) - rating: G, 11k words

Max and Charles spend summer of 2020 together in Malibu and try not to fall in love. Spoiler alert: they fall in love. I feel the urge to explain something: When I first started reading Lestappen, there were less than 250 fics in their entire tag (yeah I know, we are currently close to 3000 fics, which is insane). From 2019-2021, we truly lived off crumbs. So trust me when I say that we owe so much to altissimozucca, who wrote something like 40% of the fics in the Lestappen tag and nearly single-handedly kept us fed in those days. It's so hard to pick one of her fics to recommend, so make sure you check out her profile for more!

#803442 by altissimozucca - rating: M, 1k words

Max and Charles celebrate the end of the 2019 season in a hotel room. So soft, so fluffy, so satisfying.

Bruises by eefiplier - rating: E, 5.1k words

I think of this one as THE Lestappen smut fic. Oh my God, it's 5k words of amazing established relationship smut with all the feels. A classic. I can read this one over and over again.

outside the box by playclock (@endowataru) - rating: M, 6.1k words

Max falls in love with Charles' driving... oh and Charles himself too. They are ultra competitive idiots who are madly in love. There aren't enough established relationship fics out there, but this one is simply amazing. And don't forget to check out this author's profile for additional Lestappen fics. I promise every single one is a banger!

i made it link by link by purpleglasseswrites (@f-ferrari-forever) - rating: M, 4.2k words

Charles and Max try to be kinky, but who are they kidding - they are far too vanilla for that stuff. 🤣 This one is so sweet, and don't forget to read the sequel!

One man's trash, another man's treasure by AzziNow (@track-terror-apologist) - rating: T, 4.2k words

Charles turns into a raccoon and terrorizes everyone except Max. (Well, he terrorizes Max too... slightly.)

Call it madness, call it love… by AzziNow - rating: M, 3.5k words

Ferrari auctions off Charles for charity. No angst, just fluff. Alpha!Max/Alpha!Charles. So I confess that I never read A/B/O fics. There's nothing wrong with it - just not my cup of tea. But I really enjoyed this one. Al has such a chaotic sense of humour.

it all reminds me of you by grandprix (@grandprix-ao3) - rating: E, 3k words

Secret relationship Lestappen with flashbacks. Oh the yearning, the desire, the smut - incredibly satisfying. I must put a plug-in for this author's other Lestappen fics as well. Never misses - make sure to check them out!

burning you into my mind by thightattoos - rating: E, 4.1k words

Porn with feels and possessiveness. You cannot ask for anything more. I must have read this one a dozen times.

an evil plan or two by witchee_writer - rating: T, 5.2k words

Max and Charles are roped into a plan to get Brocedes back together; they come to a few realizations along the way. The only thing better than a Lestappen fic? A Lestappen AND Brocedes fic!

Fine Line by empireoffclouds - rating: NR, 7k words

One of the more light-hearted enemies to friends to lovers fics. I absolutely adore their dynamic here - it's snarky, warm, but also so them. The incomplete sequel is also a super fun read.

Into Darkness Of Thought by flamingosarepink - rating: T, 1k words

After the 2019 Japanese Grand Prix, Charles thinks Max isn't coming back to their shared space.

steal softly under castle walls by untouchableocean - rating: G, 521 words

Max gets home late from Milton Keynes and Charles has already fallen asleep. Short, tooth-rooting fluff of the best kind.

Zoomies by greeny1710 (@maxlambiase) - rating: E, 2.2k words

This one is just hilarious. A (mostly) naked Max walks into Charles' team Zoom call during the COVID lockdown.

...and many, many more that I'm sure I have forgotten! 🙈 You can also check out my AO3 bookmarks (the first few pages are pretty much all Lestappen fics).

Please remember to leave kudos and comments for these amazing writers. The talent in this fandom is absolutely incredible. They all deserve so much recognition. Happy reading!

[pollenallergie]

oh- oh wow- i-

The Bunny Blanket Pairing: Billy Knight x You Summary: You're not feeling that whole "get out of bed" thing today, so Billy brings the fluff to you. Contains: Billy being the best, insert your own reason for not feelin' it, literal fluff. Words: 350ish

You opened your eyes when you sensed Billy nearby.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

"You didn't," you assure him quietly, "I'm awake. Just don't feel like getting up and doing anything."

"That's alright," Billy says, sitting next to you on the edge of the bed. "Came to check on you. You need anything?"

You shake your head with a gentle smile, looking up at him with pure admiration. Billy Knight is the sweetest, kindest, most perfect man in the world. How did you get so lucky?

"Anything I can do?"

"Love me."

"I do," he says softly, leaning forward to kiss your forehead. He glances toward the door. "You up for some company?"

You scrunch your nose in response, and Billy smiles.

"Even if they're really cute? And furry? And don't talk?"

"That's my favorite kind of company," you mumble sleepily.

"Don't move," he orders, getting up to fetch the Bunny Blanket. He shakes it out, folds it, and places it in the center of the bed. You roll so that you're facing it, and get comfortable as he leaves the room with a grin. You touch the fuzzy throw and smile; it used to be your favorite thing to cuddle with on the couch, and then one day you used it to smuggle in two precious little fur babies, and it became The Bunny Blanket.

A minute later, Billy returns with a rabbit in each arm. Your mood improves tenfold, just seeing your sweet little critters. He places them on the Bunny Blanket and settles onto the other side of the bed, lying down to face you. Your knees automatically come together in the middle, creating a barrier so that your babies can't escape and fall off the edge.

The rabbits roam and sniff around their little enclosure, formed by the bodies of the two humans who love them. You and Billy each have a hand in the middle, petting and playing with whichever rabbit has wandered closest to you. You don't know how long you spent there, just relaxing and playing with your bunny babies, but eventually, you began to drift off.

The last thing you heard was a whispered, "I love you."

[nedseii]

hello omg I just wanted to thank you for the robb/margaery art even though I haven't been into asoiaf in ages bc it's absolutely beautiful 💕 they remind me of like. when you're a young high school student and this is the It couple like the undisputed prom king and queen, leadership in prominent school organizations, popular and well-known around everyone, headed to really really good schools, but the thing is they're so genuinely nice to everyone, esp underclassmen, you can't help but root for them and their success like they're the older siblings you always dreamed of.... and that art of them dancing!! I swear my heart fluttered 🥺 the way margaery looks unflappable as usual yet softer to the trained eye (robb) and the way robb looks at her like 'I know you like me as much as I do you anyways.' wow. wow

sorry for the rambling, anyways here are my fic recs!!

oneshots:

Playing Politics by BerryBagel

dreams of wolves and roses by twistedsky

There Are Wolves About by madeinessos [web archive]

softens by tinytendril

trapped by jaimelanniser

bet on it (bet on us) by anniebibanananie (modern au!!)

multi-chap:

though the winter have begun by highgardensansa

castling the king by brokentombstone (this one has jonsa!)

The Queen Gambit by Nectere

hope you enjoy these as much as I do your art!! 💖💖💖

No need to thank me for the robbaery food op!! I'm so glad you like it! I love how you described them as prom king and queen 😭 They really do embody that vibe ejdozefoerzfo tysm for sharing your thoughts :')

AND THANKS FOR THE FIC RECS YOU'RE THE BEST 💖💖💖

Also here's a robbaery I never posted I hope u like it 👉👈

[maledictusfotum]

Heya I saw you like Severitus too 😁😁

(I noticed it after your amazing little Fanart of Obscured and it's so beautiful and sad at the same time 🥺😭😭 do you have others favorite chapters of this fanfic?)

But I'm curious 👀

Have you a favorite Severitus fanfics list 👀 ?

first off, thank you <3 I love Obscured all the way through, my all time favorite chapters would be chapters 18 and 19 respectively and chapter 5 though mainly for the hurt/comfort, drama, angst and just brilliant writing I am glad you asked about my severitus favorites because I have a comprehensive list of all my favorite Severitus fics and have had them lined up for my weekly rereads and now I get to share them...this is my moment this is not a "oh this fic is on this number because its better than the others" because to me, most of these fics are as good as the other and each deserve their own respect for good writing and storylines :) there's no real organization to this it just is so lets get down to it 1. Like None Other series-this series always makes it onto the Severitus fic recs but im adding it too because I adore it sm. mainly for the magic lore and Harry growth and generally just some good fucking Severitus and ofc im a stickler for Draco being thrown into that dynamic as well so. yes, lovely series 2. A Patchwork Family-there is no universe where this fic doesn't make it to this list, the Severitus, the childhood trauma, the ptsd healing, the emotional hurt/comfort...I enjoy the first one immensely and am so so so hyped for the sequel and just from the first chapter im even more ecstatic bc now we incorporate MORE trauma and yes I could yap forever about this 3. Obscured-do I have to even explain why this is on here. you have no idea how much this fic inspired my hyper fixation on Obscurials...no, I had not watched Fantastic Beasts before reading this fic, but I definitely did after and I woke everyone up screaming every time Credence made an appearance...the ADHD is strong in me. anyway this fic's writing is so damn good its like eating a hot meal or a full night of sleep its so satisfying for me personally, and the author is also a Six of Crows fan and I can glean the inspiration and when have I ever been denied the joys of Grishaverse writing. NEVER 4. Digging for Bones-okay so this fic??? its dark. its sometimes a bit TOO dark, but I enjoy it nonetheless, its always gotten quite a few tears from me...AND it includes magic lore, so I obviously was all over that. the Severitus is good, this whole fic radiates rainy day vibes and is just generally nice despite the morose energy 5. O Mine Enemy-this was one of my first glimpses into Severitus and...it's just lovely. a lovely fic, a lovely time all around, I enjoy it immensely every time I read it, the hurt/comfort is amazing and the Severitus is delicious here. the writing style is super satisfying to me and its just a good time all around (I had to split this in two bc my computer is being odd)

[sonics-atelier]

Appreciation Post <33

Happy New Year fellow unhinged people, the past year has been one hell of a Rollercoaster and I'm glad I got to share it with everyone I love. I've made so many amazing friends and I'd like to tell them how appreciated, loved and cherished there are, hence this post. Wishing everyone so much happiness and success in this year and I hope your days go by filled with peace and joy, I love all of you very much 💗. ( Apologies for being late )

@shadowqueenjude - My Wife, My Love, You are charismatic, powerful, stubborn ( ily for that btw ), passionate and so damn hard working. I am the luckiest person on earth to have you as my confidant ( still dont know that i did to deserve you ). I remember last year when I randomly dmed you to vent about the fandom and you understood me so well, and how I stayed up till 4 am just to talk to you and how I had been searching all my life for someone like you and we found each other like it was always meant to be. The rest is history. We've been through sm together and never once has my love for wavered. You're just that amazing. I am yours, for now and ever. Keep being amazing 💕

@decadentpostnacho - Meri Jaan, You walked into my life and you were like the missing puzzle piece that instantly fit into my life and heart ( destiny fr ) You are the fuzzy green blanket I can wrap myself in when things get too much ( you're entire presence is calming ✨️ ). You're one of the most kindhearted and beautiful people I've ever known. We were put on this earth to find our ways back to each other ( long live the teatectives ). I love you more than words can ever express 💖

@mintedwitcher - I LOVE YOU. you are so fucking brave and amazing and I've come to cherish everything about you, I'm so grateful that cherik brought us together. Our late night conversations about our Headcanons and wips and your ability to make me sob have been the highlight of my year, ty for making things bearable and for going above and beyond for me, I will hold you dear always 💕

@achaotichuman - At the risk of repeating myself, you're a great person and an even better friend. You've been there when I've needed you most, you've been kind, understanding and unapologetically honest ( which i love ) and for being an amazing writer ( kaimond *sobs* ) and for all the amazing recs. I hold all our unhinged convos close to my heart. Thank you for being yourself 🫶

@matrixsss - YOU ARE PHENOMENAL. Becoming mutuals then friends with you was one of the best decisions I made this year. You're so talented and kind I am over the moon how our vibes match instantly ✨️. Thank you for being someone whom I could rely on and being the personification of comfort. ( we're Kakashi and might guy coded lmao ) Ilysm ( I'll always be there for you ) 🥺💗

@yaralulu - ILY, you're so sweet and fun to talk to. I AM IN LOVE with your writing. Getting to know you and becoming friends was by far one of the best things to happen in 2024. I adore your sense of humor and how you're able to be both sweet and sassy, like 🤌. tysm for dealing with my screaming about itwv ( I still need therapy btw ) and being awesome. Keep slaying ✨️

@praetorqueenreyna - MOTHER, I still remember how I screamed when I saw we were mutuals ( yes I'm an unashamed fangirl ). Thank you so much for introducing me to so many amazing fandoms like iwtv and the captive prince. You are a treasure and I love you so so so much. You're quite literally a role model. ( also tysm for holding my stupid ass back from doing things that would get me cancelled ) KEEP BEING THE ICON YOU ARE 💕

@highlordofkrypton - Awesome falls short for how awesome you are ( I'm lame Ik ). The way we instantly connected and then proceeded to bitch about a situation was the best bonding experience ever. I am in awe of how great of a writer you are. Your stories have me by the throat and what I love most about it is how you include cultures and history and motives in it, It means so much to me. You're an amazing friend ( I am so sorry for all the times I was ready to go to war and you had to keep me in check 😭 ) your intuition is always right, you're multitalented ( an artist now too !!! ). All hail agent Reacher 💗

@thegolden-tigeress - Shree, My Sweetheart, I love you to Saturn and back. Thank you for being the shoulder I could cry on and always uplifting me even I'm going through things. I don't know how I can ever thank you enough for that. You're invaluable to me. My life has been lit ( pun intended ) ever since you walked in it. Tysm for making me laugh, for loving my writing and for always having my back. I couldn't have asked for a better friend 🥺💗💗

@watcherintheweyr - SOULMATE, Oh how I love you, I was so elated that we share sm fandoms and interests. It's usually very hard for me to become friends and then have that bond stay strong but you've proven me wrong. I usually never took the initiative of caring about things happening in people's lives but for you I changed all that. You are like the elder sister I never had, you understand me so well and I love you sm ( totally didn't fall for you just because you had horses ). You're an amazing writer too, I'm OBSESSED with your wordlbuilding and ocs 🛐. I vow to be your hua cheng for eternity. Shine like the star you are Vira, ily forever 💗

[the-lonelybarricade]

Oh, Cee 🥺 This was beautiful

What I really, really love about this is that even though it’s a ridiculous fantasy situation that could never happen in our world, the emotions at play are still so deeply, achingly relatable. I love the way you illustrated the parent/child dynamics between Rhys and Feyre and Nyx, and how you were able to convey this less than pretty side of parenting in a way that felt so true to all of them and didn’t make anyone wrong.

The bath scene at the end was such a lovely balm to the angst, but oh boy did it kill me to see how all is just about forgiven for Nyx now that he’s been given the attention and quality time he was ultimately craving, but for Feyre this was clearly a moment that will haunt her going forward 🥺 she’s still learning, and I’m glad she has creaky-kneed Rhys there to remind her to be gentle on herself and on their baby boy whose growing up too fast 😭😭

Little Tiger

feysand, feyre & nyx, rhys & nyx | G | angst, family, hurt/comfort, fluff

based off of this headcanon post. just a little sad, but ends with fluff.

thanks as ever to the support squad. 🥺❤️

ao3

~*~

“Should I take watch, darling?”

“No. This is my mess to clean up.”

“Maybe you should cool off —”

“No.” Feyre bites down on the inside of her cheek. Cool off? What else has she been doing, perched in this tree top — on out of practice, aching knees while rain drizzled down through the canopy? “Thank you,” she adds, because it really is her own mess and her husband doesn't deserve her venom.

That belongs solely to herself.

And maybe some as well for her —

Her thoughts cut off as the gentlest snap of a twig underfoot gives away a new presence.

Feyre hones her gaze on the forest floor beneath her ambush spot.

The smell of citrus and jasmine is just barely there: hidden under damp foliage, river mud caked fur, and hot breath scented with gristle stuck between teeth. An old meal, if the noxious odor is any tell.

An odd sensation runs through her: concurrent twisting of her gut in anxiety as well as the sharp bloom of anger heating her neck, cheeks, all the way to the point of her ears.

Feyre checks that her shields are in place, carefully masking every aspect of her presence. Forces every inch of her body to draw tight as a bow string.

Doesn’t risk breathing even as her prey draws out of the shadows of a Night monsoon drenched frond. Shoulder bones, drawn tight in a crouch, protrude out of an inky black pelt.

Closer, closer.

Feyre’s quarry is focused completely on the dazed fowl clucking and flapping in the narrow clearing.

The high altitude rainforest is alive this evening with bugs chirping, birds ducking to and fro in the tree tops, but even the bullfrogs stop their persistent calls as the juvenile tiger approaches with ill-practiced stealth.

No wonder the meal on the tiger’s breath is old.

Probably something that was sick or dying, easy pickings.

Somehow, Feyre tenses further as one paw draws in front of another, just moments away from triggering —

“Go easy on him,” Rhys sends his final plea.

And this is exactly why he isn’t here.

“You’ve grown soft in your old age.”

“In fatherhood, yes. I would like my son to return home in one piece.”

Those front paws press just the right amount of weight down.

The snare releases with a sharp twang.

The sound is nothing compared to the ferocious yeowling of the tiger.

Feyre drops into the clearing, lifting the spell from the brightly colored fowl and letting it squawk away in a flutter of feathers, and locks eyes with the tiger’s stormy blue gaze just as its jaws clamp shut.

“No promises.”

“Remember you love him, remember the picture hanging above the mantel he gifted you last Solstice —”

Feyre cuts off the tether between herself and her overprotective, doting to a fault, far too soft mate.

Anger courses through her veins.

“Nyx Archeron, you will shift back. Now.”

The might of the woman who faced down a Middengard Wyrm with nothing but sheer grit and a hand crafted bone speer speaks through her. There’s no warmth, no kindness, only the hardness that has seen her through battles, through loss, through condemning her citizens when necessary.

Her son stares back with all of the same, unearned defiance, through the grizzled face of the tiger he’s become so fond of in his pre-adolescence. 

“Nyx. Now.”

Feyre throws in the weight of the High Lady behind her command. An overstep she will feel guilt over later — later, when anger isn’t riding every one of her nerve endings.

Nyx bares his unclean teeth at her.

But fortunately for his hide, it’s a dirty-faced fae child facing her a moment later. 

Arms crossed over his bare chest that’s littered with scrapes and various burrs and pokers from the plants he’s been dragging his body across out in the forest miles outside of Velaris.

“You have one minute to explain yourself.”

Those lips, his father’s lips, press into a hard line. Nyx’s stubborn expression is only punctuated by the draw of those dark brows.

Another torrent of heat flares within Feyre at that look.

That damn look she’s become so familiar with in the last few months.

“Fifty seconds.”

“I know how to count,” he snaps, as if he just can’t help himself.

His mouth snaps closed with an audible clack.

A growl rips from Feyre’s throat.

Mother above, no one had prepared Feyre for this part of parenting. 

She was ready for love so great, so overwhelming that she wouldn’t even hesitate at the thought of sacrificing her life for this child. Prepared for insurmountable joy at watching him experience the world, all of his first times. Pride over his growth and the almost greater sadness over every conquered milestone, every sign that he’s not that same baby she held so, so close. Anxiety over keeping him safe, providing for him, giving him the best youth to not only grow into himself, but into the court he will one day rule. 

But the shift in emotions?

When the anxiety over his well-being morphed into fear and anger and devastation that her child would act against her, against all of the love and thought his parents poured into him?

And for what?

An act of rebellion?

To get attention?

“You will speak now!” Feyre roars.

Days. It's been days since her son ran away.

For the life of her, she couldn’t understand the joking nature Nyx’s uncles took the news with, the shit talking and arm punching that accompanied comments like, “Like father, like son, huh? Nothing like a prince sized temper tantrum.”

Her baby gone — by choice, none the less — and they all acted as if it were some rite of passage.

Feyre hasn’t slept. Hasn’t eaten. Hasn’t been able to function outside of pacing the halls, waiting for Nyx to give in and come back home like they all kept saying was inevitable.

The comfort of her and Rhys’s daemati powers feeling his presence still within their borders did little to ease her mind.

He’d accepted Rhys into his mind, had assured his father that he needed to do this, that Rhys wouldn’t understand, before shoving him out.

He hadn’t accepted Feyre’s attempts to contact him.

Nyx didn’t want his mother.

And that thought has been eating Feyre up from the inside out along with every other undulating pulse of fury, indignation, and anguish.

“Why are you even pretending you care?”

“Excuse me?” Feyre mirrors his arm crossed posture, ignoring the strain in her muscles from the long stake out. Her son had held out longer than she expected before giving in to his growling stomach and going for the too-easy trap.

“Go adopt one of those kids from the orphanage since you love them so much more —”

“Is that what this is about?” Feyre has to force herself to breathe against the new surge of insurmountable disappointment, disbelief. “You’re jealous I have been spending time with less fortunate children? You ran away, driving your family mad with worry, to throw a fit to get more attention because I am doing my duty as High Lady and a person with a beating heart by checking in on — I — Wow. Wow.”

“Please, you both knew where I was the whole time,” Nyx grumbles, eyes shifting down for the first time.

“That’s not the point, Nyx!”

Nyx’s wings jut even higher with his stiff posture. 

“What were you thinking?” Feyre grounds out. “I can’t — I don’t even know the boy I’m looking at right now. To be so self-centered is beyond you.”

Hurt flashes in those big, blue eyes. “I did it because of you.”

“To get my attention? Well, here you go, Nyx, here’s my attention —”

“No!” Nyx cries out, the sharp bite of the tiger’s screams echoing still. “Because I overheard what you said to Aunt Nesta!”

Feyre screws up her face in confusion. “What are you talking about? What I said to Aunt Nesta? Nyx, there’s no excuse for behavior like this —”

“You were telling her what a spoiled brat I am! How entitled I’ve become! How I’ll never … I’ll never understand how you were raised, those lessons you learned.”

All of the emotions Feyre had been feeling gutter out.

Tears begin to line Nyx’s eyes in a silver limned underlining of the truth.

Nyx had overheard …

“I … That’s not what I meant,” Feyre croaks.

She reaches out her hand to touch her son’s shoulder, to try and convey the misunderstanding of the conversation, of her intent.

But Nyx steps back out of her reach. He locks his jaw tight again even as a few tears slip free.

“Nyx, I’m so sorry —”

“That’s what you said. I’m spoiled. You understand the younglings in the orphanage better than your own son.”

It hits her like a leaden weight.

The regret of her words being overheard and the inability to explain the complexity of it all. The heart wrenching understanding of just how Nyx would have taken those words.

A betrayal.

And a reminder that her little boy is more aware, every day understanding more and more about the significance of what is said around him, about him.

“I thought maybe if I lived rough for a while, you’d understand me more …” Nyx swipes the back of his hand beneath his nose to wipe where it’s begun running. “Love me, like those kids.”

Nyx had run away because of the pain she had caused. His own mother who should only love, support, guide —

“You didn’t mean it the way he’s taking it, darling.”

The shock of her son’s words must have lowered her shields.

Feyre bites back her own hot tears threatening to spill, the knot in her throat, because she doesn’t deserve the comforting caress along her mind, the thoughtful strum of the bond.

“Nyx —” Feyre clears her throat, clears away the broken sound. What can she say to make this right? “Nyx. What I said to Aunt Nesta is complicated.” Gods, she’s feeling her age. Unprepared. She doesn’t deserve her son, doesn’t deserve to inflict this inexperience on him. “I’m sorry you overheard it, I really am. But you have to know how much I love you?”

Before he can answer, a low, guttural rumble from deep within Nyx’s belly cuts through the distance between them.

“Talk after he’s eaten.”

“I know how to care for our son,” Feyre snaps, the inadequacy riding out logic for a moment. But then she considers what she’s already done to one member of their family, and adds softly, “I know you mean well. But this is …”

“Nothing that will be solved right away,” Rhys says gently. “You are a good mother. I’m proud of you.”

“Is father mad?”

Feyre shakes her head. “I told you, we’ve been sick with worry, Nyx.” She steps forward more deliberately, extends her hands out with beseeching eyes. “Let me take you home. We’ll talk after food and a bath?”

Nyx hesitates, but another adamant groan from his stomach seems to make up his mind. He nods and accepts her outstretched hands.

No one had prepared Feyre for the ups and downs of emotions that later childhood brings in a parent, but also for the mourning.

Mourning for the loss of the unshakable faith of a child in their parent.

A soft sniffle is buried in her knees as Feyre fights back the swells of sadness.

Whatever she felt for Nyx in those moments before he’d revealed his true motives for running away is turned ten fold against herself.

The disappointment in herself for failing her child, letting Nyx be cut so deeply by her own careless words.

The bath water plips and trickles along as Nyx scrubs clean the filth of days spent in the rainforest.

Old enough to demand privacy in the bath, but not too old to forgo Feyre’s offer to sit with her back to the tub and simply work her magic to channel the warm stream of water from the faucet down his back, through Nyx’s hair to wash away suds. As she had done since he was small. Keeping him warm at all times, avoiding that stark chill from water damp skin exposed to the cool air above the tub.

That simple gesture of accepting her offer nearly had Feyre bawling after they’d finished a tense, quiet meal. Just the three of them and their clinking spoons and soup bowls, fresh and steaming buttered bread wafting between them.

“Mama?”

“Yes, Nyx?”

“I’m sorry.”

Feyre shakes her head. “Don’t be. I should have never —”

“It’s okay,” her son’s voice is gentle in the manner he’s picked up from Rhys and it squeezes Feyre’s heart that much more for it. “Father explained over dinner … He told me there’s a lot I’m not old enough to understand yet and … No matter what, I need to be responsible because it’s not just about me. I’m a future leader of this court and I … I can’t run away.”

“Oh, Nyx.”

What can she say to that? That she wishes he didn’t have the burden of his family’s position and title? That she wishes he didn’t have to be so grown up already? To have a mother who can’t relate to what he’s experiencing because her childhood was so vastly different?

“This is where you two went off to,” Rhys says by way of announcing his entrance as he slips into the bathing chamber.

Feyre tips her head back just enough to see her mate’s broad frame without cutting into the view of the tub. As if they aren't the High Lord and Lady, Rhys sits down beside her on the tiled floor, pressing his warm thigh against hers as he positions his legs crisscross.

“I’m hurt you’d let me miss out on this cozy scene,” he says, kissing the side of Feyre’s head.

“Ew.”

Feyre huffs a laugh. “Nyx might have requested you didn’t join for this exact reason.”

The sharp cut of Rhys’s jaw falls open as he looks back at his son in faux offense. That sharp jawline Feyre recognizes as her son’s future, the beautiful features he has inherited. 

“Greedy. Trying to keep your mother all to yourself. As if witnessing your parents love is so mortifying.”

“It is,” Nyx admonishes, but it's for the bit more than anything. “You always have to kiss and hug and it’s so gross.”

“Gross?” Rhys’s brows raise to his hairline as he sends Feyre the next shocked expression of the back and forth. “Never in my centuries have my romantic overtures been described as gross until you gave birth to my harshest critic.”

Nyx makes gagging noises at the word ‘romantic.’

Another swell of emotion chokes Feyre.

‘I love you,’ she mouths to her mate and his glittering violet eyes.

Curling his strong arm around her shoulders, Rhys squeezes back his wordless response.

Feyre continues to weave the warm water through tendrils of inky black locks, feeling the current of the water through each strand, down the knobs of Nyx’s spine and into the tub water. She hopes the water can convey everything she can’t seem to find the words to express to her son.

“The talk can wait. It’s been a long couple of days.”

“It seems you already had the talk. Busybody.” But really, Feyre is almost relieved. She doesn’t even know where to begin with Nyx, with her upbringing, with the grief over the situation —

“Our schedules were already clear due to a certain tiger on the loose,” Rhys says, smiling gamely. “Why don’t we take advantage of the time and sneak off to the theater. I hear the performers have really outdone themselves.”

“Oh! We haven’t been in ages! Really, you have time?”

“For you two?” Rhys winks. “Absolutely. Let me sweep your mother away —” Without warning, Rhys has Feyre in his arms and lifting to stand as she yelps in surprise “— and you dress?”

“Alright!” Nyx calls cheerily to their departing backs. “Can we get treats?”

“I’ll think about it.”

Feyre curls into the hollow of Rhys’s neck, settling into the hold. The touch of her mate’s skin eases some of her internal turmoil. Soothes the worst of her self-deprecating thoughts.

“This isn’t going to get any easier, is it?” Feyre whispers, once they’re out of ear shot of their son’s bathing chamber.

“With him inheriting your magic? I wouldn’t imagine so. The shapeshifting began so early, I can only imagine what else we’re in store for.”

She clicks her tongue in disagreement, but she can’t be bothered to lift her head from the warmth of him. 

“I don’t mean the magic.”

“I know.” Warm cedar and fresh linens meet her as they cross the threshold into their chambers. Rhys sets her lovingly on the bed before stepping back, gripping her hands. “But the rest of it is a tale as old as time. We won’t be the first to struggle through raising a youngling and we won’t be the last. I’m only lucky enough to have the best partner to face the challenge with.”

A blush settles across her cheeks. “Stop. I’ve made such a mess of things. Chased away our poor son —”

Rhys presses his fingers against her lips to still them. “Later, darling. For now, let's dress for the theater and enjoy an evening out with our son.”

Feyre smiles softly. “Maybe you are getting wiser and not just older.”

“That’s the second remark about my age today,” Rhys growls, eyes darkening with silken promise. “Perhaps I need to remind you just what these old bones are capable of.”

“Later,” she mimics, sticking her tongue out in a flash before he can catch it.

For now, she will cherish their time as a family. No matter her faults, no matter how things may shift in their dynamics, at least she can be certain that they can make it through together.

[rwrbficrecs]

Readers' Choice Rec List Part 1 of 7

To celebrate 500 followers we thought we'd do a special rec list featuring recs submitted by all of you, the readers ❤️ Though at the time of posting this, we're at 800+ followers 🥺 From the volunteers and I, thank you for supporting this blog. We hope it's been a helpful resource! Hope you enjoy these recs, with a little comment from the reader. Thank you to everyone who submitted a fic rec 🥰 I'll be posting a list everyday till all 7 parts are posted Go and leave these authors some love ❤️ Happy Reading! Theme: A fic that you’d like to celebrate and give some love to ❤️ the poem you make of me by @omgcmere

@celaestis1: Just as they speculate under the linden tree, Henry is a writer; Alex a model. The story is just so beautiful, sweet and smutty and funny.

Omakase by @orchidscript

@historicallysam: Orchid made me fall in love with a brash American who wants respect and a stoic Brit who wants to be himself. I could read this story every single day.

We'll Invite Something In by @smc-27

@historicallysam: President ACD & HRH Prince Henry, grown up and willing to work for what they want. It's one of my top two favorite stories in this fandom.

Spoke Love to Soul by @celaestis1

@emmalostinwonderland: The story is gripping, the characters are compelling, and the myth they chose is really under-appreciated. I rode the entire rollercoaster of emotions with this one, and I would gladly do it again.

cover to cover by Anonymous

anon: The characters' voices are amazing and the narration is just super sweet! A feel-good fic for anyone craving a good intimate time.

On Thin Ice by @pirates-against-heterosexuality (WIP)

anon: A really sweet, in progress, NHL AU. It's in progress but It's really enjoyable so far, especially as it draws a lot of similarities to book moments, without being a copy.

Heartaches and Cupcakes and Sunshine Boys by @everwitch-magiks

anon: This was the first RWRB fic I read, and it's still my favorite! Henry as a writer (and her skill writing as Henry) and the emotional depth of this fic are things I need in every fic!

love dares you to change our way of caring about ourselves by @kapplebougher

anon: I am simply OBSESSED with this oneshot, I scream about it to anybody that will listen. I come back and read it every time I read the climax of Alex and Henry's argument in London. It is Henry POV and the first time I read it I truly wondered if it was CMQ writing Henry fic on AO3. Not only does it build on the signet ring and give background on what it means to Henry and parallels it with his parents, but it also weaves fire/water symbolism for Alex/Henry. The thing that gets me is the quote at the end though. It's just like the queer historical quotes from the emails in the books and it makes the ending SO PERFECT it just makes me go feral. I wish I could give it all the kudos!

Picture On Your Corkboard by bleedingballroomfloor

anon: absolutely beautiful and a roller coaster of emotions. 100% recommended.

religion's in your lips (even if it's a false god) by @coffeecatsme

anon: NSFW but also incredibly good and i need everyone to appreciate billie's writing!!!

Someday We Will Be Home by witchseeker1133

anon: this fic is incredibly special to me bc it was one of the first ones i read. it is very angsty but i think its worth a read.

[onlyswan]

dreamboat | jjk (teaser)

sypnosis: aboard the dreamboat, jungkook finds himself drawn to a beautiful stranger who appears to be drowning in melancholy. weeks later, he sees her face on the other side of the aquarium at his apartment building’s lobby. he soon learns that it’s not fate’s grand romantic plans that brought you back to his life. / (alt.) / a shipwreck and a dreamboat form an unusual bond in an aquarium.

non!idoljk x f!reader (jk is a business major who works at the amusement park ; oc works at the call center) / strangers to lovers / fluff, angst, suggestive

teaser word count: 0.5k / full fic word count: 30.8k :3

teaser warnings: is it an onlyswan fic if nobody cries? (full list of warnings to be released w the fic!)

release date: sometime in july (oh wait it’s july already)

spotify playlist ♫ (still in progress and will be open to recs after release hehe)

PART ONE AND TWO ARE OUT!

note: drop a comment/send an ask if you want to be tagged (pls make sure that you’re taggable 🥺) thank you and i hope you look forward to it <3

—

“why are you here? do you even have a ticket?!” taehyung interrogates him once he reaches the gate.

“do i have a ticket? really?” jungkook smirks, tossing his backpack to the ground.

he crosses over to the other side, and with ease, sneaks his hand in between the bars to push the lock into place.

“what do you think i work here for?”

taehyung sighs and mumbles to himself. “fine, my bad. thought we worked to pay for our bills.”

he picks up the backpack and swings it over his shoulder, heading to the control booth. on the other hand, jungkook climbs on the ship the amusement park owner lovingly named the dreamboat. he places his grip on one of the many vines curiously large butterflies are attached to, fully ignoring the existence of the steps. he hoists himself up onto the wooden floor with ease.

unhappy faces with blank stares.

he smiles at them cheerfully.

“i apologize for the hold-up. i’m your captain, jeon jungkook!”

“jungkook! sit!”

“wouldn’t he be the captain?” a high school boy at the very front quips, eyes pointing downwards at taehyung.

“eh, more like the wind beneath our sails.” he ruffles the boy’s head in passing as he trudges over to his desired seat.

“what?”

his spot, a more suitable better term. the farthest row which most first timers do not dare to sit at; the part of the ship closest to the sky when it swings back and forth, higher and higher, until it feels like he’s going to fall off— but he doesn’t. for short bursts of moments, he’s flying.

the passengers are erupting in ear-splitting screams, curses, and laughter. the wide smile plastered on his face could probably be described as sadistic as he observes their reactions. most would find this ride as a nauseating, life-threatening ordeal and its name ridiculously ironic. however, to jungkook, this is what it means to be alive.

he imagined he would be alone here again today.

but as he is brought higher into the air, he discovers one person strapped to the last row of the other side of the ship.

the earth begins to move in slow motion.

they have their face buried in their palms, body shaking with what he can only guess is intense sobbing.

gone is the smile on his face.

jungkook has witnessed a few criers, sure, but not to this degree. a wave of sadness washes over him. he feels guilty and he doesn’t know why. why the hell would he be? he doesn’t even know who you are.

are you that scared? if you’re scared, why would you volunteer to go here alone? if not, then why is your heart breaking?

for a few seconds, the noises cease and his focus on you becomes amplified.

and why is his breaking too?

—

[the-lonelybarricade]

Do you have any precanon/younger feyre meeting Rhys/meeting in the human realm fic recs? I found a cute one shot (The Huntress in the Snow) and was thinking of how much I love your We Bleed the Same story (love seeing early canon/before she goes to the SC Feyre interacting with Rhys 🥺) and tried to find more like it but wasn’t having much luck.

Anyway I love your stories and thank you regardless

Hey there lovely!! I'd recommend:

Never Alone by Frufrusc:

Strange things happen al Calanmai, magic is ruled by its own will and spreads through the courts sometimes, bearing gifts. When Rhys is in his office he suddenly feels a presence in the room that transports him fifteen years in the past, where a small girl struggles with her homework. or, Rhys time travels and meets his young mate.

Raven by Middlemist1:

"I-" He began. I turned my head once more. "I can't shake the feeling that I've been looking for you." He said. And as I began walking away, I quietly spoke, knowing he would hear. "I know exactly what you mean." - If Feyre were to meet Rhysand before she ever killed Andras.

Rewrite the Stars by booklovingsloths (orphan_account):

What if Feyre never lost her wealth? So she never went under the mountain? But after Rhys came back he searched for her and they both fell in love. Maybe Feyre ensnared the Suriel in the human realm and it told her they were mates and she goes to confront Rhys.

one single thread of gold tied me to you by reginahalliwell:

It didn’t happen often, the images appearing briefly and without warning every few months or so once they started. Sometimes beautiful, sometimes horrific. ~ Feyre feels the mating bond before the Wall.

As the World Falls Down by @thesistersarcheron:

Based on a prompt from deepwaterwritingprompts: Sometimes in the dead of night on the way to the kitchen for a glass of water, I see an extra door in the hallway, black and imposing. ——— Five times the High Lord of the Night Court tries to lure his human mate across the wall and the one time she hunts him instead.

[scienceoftheidiot]

do you have any royai fic recs?

Ah Nonny, I have been wanting to make a royai reclist for ages, because some of my faves never make it on the ones I see ! So thank you so much for this !

Let's talk about the good stuff.

There's some I haven't re-read in ages, so if I don't say much about them it doesn't mean they're not good, just that I need to read them again 😜 also beware, I like Royai FOR THE ANGST so there'll be plenty of it there. I've decided to share fics that aren't smut (doesn't mean some of them can't be explicit but the smut isn't the only thing in them). I might make a smut rec list one day, we'll see.

(PS if I don't tag authors who are on Tumblr feel free to manifest yourselves so I can tag you !)

First and foremost, here's my fave fic ever in this fandom, one of the first I have read and still so good for me, Your Warmth Against My Scars by @lassusog characterization is on point, and it never fails to make me feel so much when I read it.

and when you can't rise (I'll crawl with you on my hands and knees) by starsinherblood. A great story, with tension and action on point, and perfect angst 👌🏻👌🏻👌🏻

The Last Train Home by @rizaposting who has awesome 03!Royai fics, and this one makes me all warm and fuzzy inside 🥺

Under a Blood Red Sky by @liber-what-ia Ishval angst, great characterization and I was so happy to see Charlie ! It's not complete but I just love it anyway, especially the way the prose flows, it'w just beautiful (no pressure, friend! I just don't want to stop myself at only complete works!)

you can only touch him when he's dying, by lilantis. I love to see the story progress. So angsty and bittersweet, aaahhh ❤️

Like you do by wordslinger. This is a very intriguing story both in subject and the way it's written. Also I bawled my eyes out. Haha.

The meaning in each keystrokes by WorryinglyInnocent. Riza centric Violet Evergarden AU, knowing that : I don't know anything about Violet Evergarden AT ALL, never heard about it before, and I tend to avoid AUs most of the time for reasons, and yet I found this one randomly and it caught me. I really like the premises, and the fact that Maes and Gracia especially play such a big part. It was a very refreshing read.

Couldn't finish without The King's Counsellor by @qs63, since she's my partner in crime in writing royai, and while we share the exact same brainrot, which is already a perfect reason to share her fic(s) there, I love how much more gravitas she manages to give to Royai than I do.

Finally allow me some shameless self advertising, because I myself am a royai fic writer, so linking you my masterlist 😅

This is by no means a complete list ! I will probably come back and reblog with more if I think about others or find new ones ! I just wanted to reply quickly, because I have been trying to make such a list and always let it drag because I felt I was missing some good ones. I still know I am missing them. I'll just add them later 🥰 thank you again !!

[slaaverin]

Urgent fic rec!

I just read this masterpiece and felt the immense and desperate need to share with the world

The concept is so creative and I love the way they write it's exactly what I like. It's also tender and made my heart go so very soft. Anyway, I found it beautiful. Go read the damn thing! You'll thank me 🥰

Thank you so much @starquestingfordrarry for writing this beautiful story 💜 I will remember it for a long time 🥺

[obsidianpen]

I have been “branching out” while waiting for updates and I hate to be a hater but nothing hits like your writing (other than maybe the actual physical library book I have been reading). It really makes me realize how good you are - I feel like a lot of great writing is writing where you don’t think about the writing at all. That said, do you have any faves on AO3? Stories that made you love fan fic or that you couldn’t stop reading? Or books for that matter??

I stay gassing you up on anon but it’s well deserved. Teach me your ways.

🥹🥺🫶 well thank you for saying all that! I especially appreciate the ‘writing where you don’t think about the writing at all’ part. I think I’ve finally come to realize that this is a big part of my ‘style’. As much as I love some flowery poetry woven into fiction, it’s not my jam most of the time. As impressive as it is to read line by line, I’ve found it can be distracting. When I was a kid, my mom (very very avid reader) always said there was a huge difference between a good writer and a good story teller. I’ve often been blown away by beautiful writing without being pulled into the story.

So yeah, I strive to be a storyteller first and a decent writer second. If the words aren’t necessary for setting a scene or mood or moving things along, they gotta go. And I’ll be the first to admit I’m not a skilled writer. At least not naturally—like all things, I’ve gotten much better with practice. But the stories! Those have always had a life of their own.

anyway, I’ve recc’d Peremo before and I will again! And I’ve got some stuff bookmarked on ao3 that is def worth checking out. As for books, I haven’t had the ability to finish a real, bonafide book in a while but I’ve started one called ‘Ghost Eaters’ that I intend to finish this month when I finally get to go on vacay. It’s good so far but I’m only 10% in so no promises. One of these days I’ll make a rec list of the things that I find inspiring!!