#but at least he doesn’t have a project due on Sunday! so daydream I will

[victory-cookies]

me: wow I’m so stressed with work and school, time to recede into my long-running escapist daydream where my self-insert juggles a job and an education

[antivancoffeelover]

2018 fics, a year in review

i’m a madman, but even my crazy ass probably won’t finish and post another fic in the last 6 hours of 2018, so here are all the fics i posted on ao3 this year, plus some thoughts on each!

Hemlock Honey and Silver

this was my last ever supernatural fandom fic. literally the end of an era for me since i was in the spn fandom for so damn long and wrote so much fic, about two-thirds of which has been orphaned on the archive at this point because i didn’t like the stories anymore lol. 

i do like that one, though, and i’m actually alright with it being my last ever spn/destiel fic

Fire In Your Veins

this was my first time posting thorki fic! i was so, so nervous about it, but everyone in this fandom is so chill and lovely. i still like this one, and i don’t think i write enough 69ing lmao. also this fic was obvs the start of something bigger bc. i mean. i’ve written so much damn fic now lol since i only started posting in june. i was worried that i wasn’t going to be writing anymore, or that i’d never be posting on ao3 again because it had been literally 2 full years between hemlock honey and silver and the fic that preceded it. then i fell into thorki and i started writing fic and it’s just been such a huge, huge thing. bc i’m also writing original stuff again for the first time in forever.

Underdressed and All Out of Time

a direct sequel to fire in your veins, i really like it. i felt like i was able to characterize loki fairly well in this one bc i was very insecure about the way i wrote loki when i started out

A Thousand Teeth, Yours Among Them

who doesn’t love a fic title from a hozier song? i remember writing this fic and wondering if it was any good and if my characterization was okay and still being nervous and insecure in my writing, but it’s been very well received so i kinda got my inner critic to stfu which is nice lol. i also really enjoyed doing this vignette style story

To Always Face the Sun

what if :) loki was happy :) and thor had his brother back :) lol i really liked writing this and having loki being such a little shit tbh. can we tell that i like a happy ending in fic?

Blue On Gold

so i wrote an arranged marriage fic where they never actually get married and it’s still 15.8k lmfao. also the return of the vignette style, which was fun bc i got to do short, impactful scenes and build the narrative with them. i remember sitting at my desk at work, on my phone, writing this fic, then coming home and editing on a damn tablet bc my laptop bricked earlier this year

the warmth of your doorway

i meant to capitalize the title but at this point i’ve decided to leave it lol. i really loved writing this bc i felt very confident in the way i was building the scenes and the detail i was able to incorporate. i feel like this is where i really kinda go my voice back and i start to come into my own, if that makes sense? one of my fave fics i’ve ever written tbh. there’s a longer ‘verse for this, but after i finished this fic i got too distracted by new projects to try and continue it lol

Tell Me

this was my first trans!loki fic and he’s a trans man, and god i love it. i’ve got another ftm loki story as a WIP in my gdocs bc this story showed me how much i fucking love writing trans characters, and i really enjoyed the dynamic i put into this fic. there’s a sequel planned lol it’s gonna be dirty

Interwoven

i still haven’t managed to ever find the post that inspired this damn fic and if you wonder whether that drives me up the wall the answer is yes (: and fun fact! i intentionally never describe loki’s genitals in this fic, bc i was picturing him as a trans guy since i’d just written tell me and now i have a massive obsession with writing trans romance and erotica

Tie Breaker

in this house we love and appreciate bottom thor!!! also i loved writing the sparring at the beginning. it makes me wanna write more fics w/ brutal fight scenes lol. thor’s slutty drunk cape outfit is iconic and i’m gonna read that comic just for that outfit honestly

Pretense of Subjugation

i became drunkenly obsessed with loki manspreading on the throne of asgard and this was the result. this was the first thorki fic of mine that i’d had beta’d and it was vastly, vastly improved by it. the tips @ktspree13 gave me when she helped with this fic have affected literally every single fic i’ve written since

Double and More

so this is not the first thorki fic i ever posted, of course, however it is the first i ever started writing. i got to the point where loki’s in thor’s lap and then i kinda blanked out and let the fic sit for like... 2 or 3 months? then i opened it back up and i was like “oh i like this i should finish this” which is why i don’t delete anything anymore bc there’s always a chance i’ll come back to it

Ringback Tone

y’all owe @thotki for the wondrous idea they presented in discord that ended up creating this fic. i think i wrote this fic in like 3 days bc of how much fun i was having with it. the dirty talk was my favorite thing to write in this and i remember distinctly having this [:< moment when i was daydreaming about it

Seldom All They Seem

there was an impromptu bottom thor day back on 20 oct and this fic was my contribution. we can never have enough time travel, can we? i remember i think i took like a four day weekend from work and part of my motivation was literally wanting to finish this fic in time to post it lmfao

Fluffy Thorki Sunday Ficlets

i started doing fluffy thorki sunday back when i was on bourbonbucky and i continued it here, and i’m proud that i’ve written at least 1 piece for fluffy thorki sunday every sunday since i started. i love doing fluff and smut, and honestly even when my mood has been shit, i’ve always felt motivated to try and improve it at least enough to write some nice fluff. i put all of these on ao3 once i moved blogs

Let Love Disrupt

this is another fic we owe to discord lmao. i remember posting this when i was either very drunk or very tired and having to keep going onto ao3 on my damn phone browser to correct minor shit, and some not so minor shit like a typo in the title bc at first it said “distrupt” and that’s why i only post when i’m awake and sober now lmfao

Without Fear

i love werewolves (: a whole bunch (: and this fic is something dirty and wonderful that i’m proud of and THERE’S ART bc @nekokat42 is a blessing and takes commissions. kot i love u :3

On the Other Side Like Always

i have a lot of feelings about this fic. there’s an entire future in this ‘verse that i would so love to write, but i’m stuck on where to go with it. as it stands i am satisfied with this as a story of thor and loki coming together, and a story about how loki does something out of desperation but is finally given something genuine and comforting in his life like he’s always deserved. THERE’S ART from the wondrous @boltplumart / @mrhiddles bc allie is perfect :]

Runaway

when i tell y’all i’m a trash gremlin king. i do have a thing for writing underage characters with adults (probs due to messy personal history lmfao ain’t gonna look at that too closely) and so writing this one was a fun little bit of self indulgence. also it’s dirty and really plays into codependency, which i always like writing bc it’s a fun thing to explore in fiction

Sunset Rhapsody

this fic. was supposed to be. two thousand words. at most. then thor smiled at me, as the writer, and was like “i want to own him” and we ended up with 11k of thor’s obsessive bs and loki being brutal. joking aside, i love this fic, i love what i did with it, i have an original story i wanna write for my size kink anthology that will follow a similar thread to this one. also that torture scene. i don’t recall if i ever properly wrote torture before, but this did kinda make me squirm a bit when i was writing it and if you’ve read it you know precisely which scene i’m talking about lmfao

Right to Guard

this fic was honestly very emotionally satisfying for me in a pretty visceral way. writing thor just surrendering to love and spoiling the fuck out of loki was pretty damn cathartic. 

A Bite of Lamb

me making sure i never lose my title as a trash gremlin king. honestly writing thor’s POV in this fic was like >.> at myself a couple times bc it felt distinctly dark in a way i’d never written another character. a very, very unhealthy kind of obsession and this twisted logic where he’s trying to make it all okay. i really fucking love this damn fic tho and i’m happy with how it came out. 

Seamless

i was so, so frustrated and pissed off at work that i needed to let that shit out, so that was channeled into this very guilt-ridden turned tender fic, and i really enjoyed writing it. loved writing thor taking care of his baby sister. also! KOT IS FUCKING AMAZING and drew this bc they’re such a good fucking person ;A; like they sent me a message and just said “really liked this scene” and i was D Y I N G and i still am. thank you again, kot!

The Way A Rose Blooms

this was written for the thorki secret santa exchange! i drew @chickcheney and honestly the list of prompts was so, so good. bottom thor, arranged marriage, semi-public sex and trying not to be caught, body worship. i was like “damn did i draw myself wtf” bc that is all up my alley. 

Sugar Cookie

i honestly could not think of a better fic to finish off 2018 for me than sugar cookie. porn and emotions that’s all this is, but it features loki as a trans woman being loved and appreciated as she is with nothing extra expected of her and it was so satisfying to write. it makes me want to write original romance with trans women, which i’ll definitely do bc i loved writing this hungry and tender story and i’m very happy with how i ended it. 

so that was 2018 for me! 

[goldenscript]

sad machines.

pairing: jung hoseok | reader genre: fluff, angst word count: 4,977 description: it’s the late night conversations that capture you. the enigmatic jung hoseok, rumored troublemaker and across the street neighbor, doesn’t depend on anyone else to lay waste his heartaches to but you.  author’s note: based on didrick’s cover of the song, ”sad machines” by porter robinson. you can listen to it here! and this unwavering idea based on my neighbors who are nocturnal creatures that stay up into late, ungodly hours like myself. 

“I don’t know much about your life beyond these walls The fleeting sense of love within these God-forsaken halls”

Jung Hoseok and the rest of his family took occupancy in the house across from yours after the previous owners decided it was time for a new venue. You didn’t complain considering they were always loud, annoying prepubescent kids blasting music and disrupting everyone else with songs and dances that seemed way too simple to you and complex for them to figure out. But within moments, you found that you were not particularly fond of the aforementioned either.

He’s loud, obnoxious, and very like the previous neighbors, who blasted their music from their garage a few million times for god only knows why, does exactly that until it’s late into the night and everyone else is supposed to be fast asleep. He often revs his engine with a wicked grin plastered on his features like an award-winning medal, especially when others voiced their complaints about it like it’s enjoyable to cause others frustration.

Of course, you’re among the few, growing the most flustered as you study up on formulas and vocabulary words meant to solidify your ticket out of a place that was far enough from this cursed place and close enough to be on call as per usual. It’s the life of the family person.

If there was someone your friend, mother, younger sibling could depend on, it’s you. You’re the one who will answer the call or the text, acquiesce, and do what you can to help at the best of your abilities, often doing your damn hard to make it possible because that’s just how you are. You can’t ever remember a time before this, and maybe this is how life has always been. Just a helping hand for those who need it.

You’ve daydreamed countless scenarios in which you go to a university nearby, finding your own little niche and acquiring more knowledge about your field with an open mind and heart until you’re able to work a normal job, send money to the family, and finally live for yourself. That’s all you want. To be free of this incessant need to be the one dependable so maybe you can sustain yourself for once. It’s weird to think that you can’t do this, but you know all too well that you’ve lived in a comfortable bubble for far too long, too wordless to free yourself because you’re not ready.

All you can think about that day is the fact that there’s a head throbbing mix of an engine and hip-hop music you can’t find yourself wrapping your head around because goddammit you want to get through this stupid book so you won’t fail and become your worst fear.

That day you storm over to his garage, fingers curled into fists at either sides of you,  lurking at the sidewalk for a moment until you’re at the entrance of the open garage where you’re greeted with loud rap music, a running engine, and now a pair of dark eyes from the very perpetrator enacting all these noisy distractions, you’re almost struck by how attractive he is at first glance.

With a dark mop of locks that are brushed away from his forehead, slick with perspiration, high cheekbones flushed from the mild heat and the increasing humidity of the garage, and in merely a tank-top and a pair of basketball shorts, showing off his lean-built body, you’re most surprised when you don’t see the traces of malicious contempt that others in the neighbor have place upon him. The only thing you see is a boy that’s being way too loud while you’re doing important things, and an unnerving stare he’s aiming in your exact direction. All the while a smirk curves on his godforsaken pink lips that have a biting remark waiting to get released, you just know it.

“Do you mind keeping it down?” You ask, raising a brow at him while your hands remain firmly planted on the swells of your hips.

He respond with a shrug, “I dunno, princess. It kind of messes with the ambiance if I try to accommodate for just you.”

Your eyes narrow slightly, growing more irritated at the nickname than anything else, “Really now?”

He grabs a towel off to the side, wrapping it around his neck to collect the droplets already meeting the collar of his top.

“Yes,” He nodded, gesturing to the stereo that blares some Chance the Rapper song, “This is to motivate me to keep going, and this,” He moves to his running engine, “tells me if I’m fixing up my baby correctly.”

He lets out a deep sigh, “As you can see these things are very key components in getting in fulfilling this project you see? I’ll stop when I’m done. I promise.”

You want to open your mouth with some kind of biting retort, much like the one he gave you, but you fall short. All you can do is shut your mouth and find that the blood boiling beneath your skin has become stagnant. Like many times before this, when you’ve confronted others for their mistakes, you can’t bring yourself to further the confrontation.

After all, you couldn’t really argue with that response considering he just said he’d lower it when he was done (whenever that was), and although you want to do so just out of the current state of irritation you’re in, it really isn’t part of your nature to have a full blown argument over something as trivial as this. It obviously wouldn’t stop him whether you continued to complain so you let out a deep sigh, nodding before turning to leave.

As you make your way back to your home that’s merely a few meters away in the mild mid-August heat, you can hear a set of sharp-toned yells emitting from within the Jung’s home that was met only with an increased volume of the stereo.

You turn to look over your shoulder without really thinking until you lock eyes with Hoseok, who was sporting a thin line on his lips until he caught you. He suddenly waves, sending a wink in your direction before turning his back to you in favor his car and you return back to your house where calculus homework and William Shakespeare’s Hamlet awaits you.

Though you can’t seem to get that dark-haired boy out of your mind or the brief yells that came from his house.   

Unfortunately, due to the fact that the houses within the neighborhood are cursed with close-knit spaces and thin walls, means hearing what Mr. Sanchez playing his trombone or Miss Lee shouting at her kids to hurry up from down the street wasn’t the most uncommon sound to wake up to everyday. However, it also means hearing the arguments from the Jung’s.

At first, you paid no mind to the dull hum of shouts emitting from the thin walls, but it became more apparent to you that it was not going to cease and that it was, in fact, coming from Hoseok’s home.

It felt weird to hear another argue from so far away. You’ve suffered through your fair share between your mother and her boyfriend whenever bills came into question, but you never thought of others and if they were arguing. Your only fear was them hearing your house’s shrill quips and shouts that seemed to last ages until they were calm enough to resolve through stresses. Perhaps that’s why you stared at the Jung’s from your front side window, watching as the lights were still on even at 1 AM.

It’s a Sunday night, and everyone else in your house is fast asleep as you lie awake with brows knitted and taut high upon your forehead.

You don’t want to admit you’re concerned for the irksome boy, but you feel pity for his younger sister, who took a liking to you soon after they moved in during the hot, late July. She’s a sweetheart you’ve tutored at the local middle school for your school’s community service requirement, and you adore her for trying so damn hard at math. She doesn’t talk much with the other peer tutors, but you seem to offer her a genuine comfort among the superficial smiles that are only there to get hours. At least with you she knows you care.

Because you do.

Despite needing it only to graduate, you enjoy your time with the middle schoolers, finding most of them pretty endearing whenever they chat away about their excitement of next weekend’s hangouts and gossiping about school life. There’s an innocence to them that reminds you of your own childhood albeit yours was not quite as exciting as theirs- you just love to see them smile without the stresses you faced as a kid transitioning from one city to this one without any familiar face.

You were lonely as kid, but nowadays you enjoy the solitude. Jiwoo often chats with you about feeling the same way whenever you’re both at a standstill in mathematics. She has a way of conveying her emotions through words, especially the small tangents she gets into that you find yourself sucked into until it’s time to move onto another subject or it’s break time. For a girl who’s barely going through puberty, she’s had to grow up awfully quick just for the sake of her family, and as you listen to her talk about how she feels and how lonely life gets, you can’t help but empathize with her better than most people you know in your high school. Maybe that’s why you’ve grown attached to her.

Sometimes you walk her home or invite her over, and she’s happy to have a surrogate older sister which warms your heart.

Of course, you’re always glad to help.

With a resigned sigh, you’re about to fall asleep with these floats about Jiwoo and Hoseok floating around your mind when you remember your mom asked you to take out the garbage before the following day when the collectors come by for its contents. It’s surely less than sixty degrees out, but you’d rather not stress your mother out on the trash when she’s been going on about the utilities. So you quickly shove off the warmth of your comforter, shrugging on a nearby sweatshirt and your shoes when your downstairs for the biting cold. It meets you as soon as the sliding door’s open, eliciting a momentary chill to invade your system until you’ve settled your limbs and made moves toward the dark green bin, grabbing hold of it whilst lugging it toward the now-open fence and settling it by the curb.

It’s somewhat still on the street until you find your eyes wandering across the street at the still-lit house where faint shouts intermingle with the chilled air. You stay there for a moment, zoning out in fatigue and thought when there’s a slam of a door that jolts you onto the street.

You shake your head, seeing a faint, familiar outline of Hoseok as he slams the door behind him and settles onto the curb without having noticing you standing less than three meters away.

You debate on going inside and leaving him alone, but the nurturing side of yours that wins out against all arguments -you have school tomorrow, he probably wants to be left alone, etc…- renders any niggle of a doubt moot.

All by a simple, So what?

“You okay?” You ask, cupping around your sweater-covered palms.

Your eyes squint against the orange-tinged street lights as he looks up at you in surprise. His eyes are wide and his lips parted in a small ‘o’ before he shakes his head.

You don’t hide your surprise that he admits to his emotions as you drop your hands to your sides, but you can’t blame him considering it’s one in the morning. This is the time in which emotions run high and the fatigue that runs through your bones break down the guards that protect inner desires and emotions. Sometimes you wonder if it has anything to do with the fact that since we’re like the stars, we’re ourselves in the night when everything down below stills.

Whatever the reason is, you ask, “You wanna talk about it?”

It’s a silly question, but you’ve found that many people tend to forget that asking still helps. You’re not nosy about what went on and what was said in the Jung residence. No, you just want him to be okay. For Jiwoo to be okay too.

He blinks at you, eyes narrowing into a squint for a split second until he turns back to his house with an expression you can’t read from where you are. You wait anyway.

Until he meets your eyes once more and replies, “I wanna get away from here first.”

When you ask if he knows where he wants to go, he shrugs so you say, “Well, I think I know a place. Lemme grab my house key and we can go.”

He nods, watching as you go and return through the front door, walking over to you as you both make a trek toward a nearby park. It’s not too far but it’s far enough to both your likings when you’re settled on the swing set, stuck in a still silence that settled between the two of you since the start of the journey.

You open your mouth to speak again but he beats you to the punch, glancing at the wood chips that cover the ground: “I want to get away from here. This town… It’s stupid, moving places after so damn long and for what? For a new town, a new school, a new job? I hate it here. I hate feeling stuck in a place where I know I don’t belong with people that don’t understand me just because I’m either ‘too troublesome’ or ‘too sensitive.’ It’s bullshit. I- I-”

He releases a sigh and grows silent soon afterwards. His eyes now turning to you.

“I’m sorry to dump this on you. I’m sorry you had to hear my parents argue. Shit, I’m just sorry and I don’t even know why exactly. I just am.”

You shake your head and reply, “It’s fine. Really, I think it’s okay to just let everything out. Just let it out with me. I can’t offer you a ticket out of here, I’m working on that one for myself, but I can I offer a great listener- any time of the night, you name it, Hoseok.”

He raises a brow at you, his lips curving into a small smile, “Really? You mean that, princess?”

“Yes,” You roll your eyes, “Talk my ear off, Jung. Might as well. What’s there to lose anyway?”

“You could tell other people at school that I’m a basketcase,” He shoots with a meager glare that fall shorts with the twitch of his lips beginning to widen.

You retort, “That requires knowing people enough to actually talk to them.”

He lets out a laugh, nodding as he continues, “Alright, alright. No need to diss yourself, princess. But y’know what? Fuck it, here it goes-”

Jung Hoseok, rumored bad boy, has a tale that surpasses frivolity. He aches for a calling in life that goes beyond academics. He knows all too well that his passions lie with the rhythmic beats of music that awaken his joints and fire up a passion that’s more than just a side hobby. It’s more than just something done in passing, and no matter how much he wants to break free from the comfort of his life now… he’s scared. 

He fears the worst of what may come because dreams are in places where the unknown surrounds it in heavily veiled fog, cloaked with a spell to seem unattainable and damn near impossible without a semblance of knowing what may come. He doesn’t know what may happen for his future and graduation will come in a few months. He doesn’t know what he’ll do when the time comes to collect his diploma. He doesn’t know if he’ll make it up to his dreams if he tries to follow his parents. He just… he doesn’t know, and that’s the scariest part of it all.

And among the problems that seem to stand hand in hand with home, you listen diligently, watching as he goes on and nod in times where he stops short just to check if you’re not zoning out on him though you’re sure he would’ve just pushed you over if you were falling asleep.

You watch as his chest heaves after a long pause between his huge tangent that never seemed to cease until he admits his fears, one you can relate to from your many encounters of existential crises that liked to pop in and say hello once in awhile. You tilt your head at him, “Better?”

He nods, “Much. Thanks, princess.”

A half-smile curves on your lips, “Good, I’m glad.”

The first night becomes a second and then a third and then a fourth then a fifth, sixth, seventh…

“I don’t belong here. I want to leave.”

“I just wanna get away. Find my place somewhere nice.”

There are nights where it’s below thirty degrees, and although you’re wondering why you both don’t ever opt for a warmer option, he comes prepared with an extra blanket to share as he goes on one of his tangents about family life.

“How do you feel about the future, princess?”

“The future itself is never certain. When you’re a high school senior, it feels as though the world’s against you when the only thing you know how and what to do seems to be your only option. It feels suffocating to imagine a life that is only limited to the choices you see in front of you, but it’s nice to have a friend that’s right by your side to listen to those heartaches.” Maybe suffer through a few of their own. I’ll be there, you can depend on me.”

It’s a night where the air bites at your nose, leaving you with an array of chills to decorate the skin with gooseflesh. You feel it seep through the sweater and jacket you’ve thrown on. While a shiver racks your body, you begin to wonder why you let the meeting place be outside. There’s a coffee house not that far off or even the comfort of your garage. All a symbol of security and warmth- both of which you’re lacking as you sit on the foreboding swingset at two in the morning.

And somehow you became exactly that for Jung Hoseok.

He never admits it, but you know that you’re a beacon of light in the darkness that is his life. He calls you at unforgivable hours with apologies on his tongue and hushed laughter when you whine in response to being woken up, but nevertheless, you are there for him when he needs someone the most.

He’s never had someone so willing to help him, and you’ve always been that person to many people. It’s him who is a particular case that you can never seem to rid your mind of. Sometimes you’ll ask him how he is on a random day, watch his window from yours, waiting to see a flash of light as he responds to your message; other times you like to call him, hearing his husky voice try to remain quiet as best as it can despite how easily a small joke can tip him over into fits of laughters that are sometimes halted by Jiwoo and her adamants pleas for her older brother to shut his trap.

You’ll laugh at his expense, only feigning innocence when he accuses you of getting him into trouble. You’ll apologize if he gets pouty with you.

It’s odd how easily a few nights of late night talks about the world and all its follies can turn two strangers into remnants of what could be considered best friends.

But you have no qualms to the comfort that Hoseok offers you.

In fact, you relish in his warmth and security, because unwittingly, he has become your own beacon of light.

He distracts you from home life and all its taxing responsibilities, giving you a sense of motivation that keeps you going without wearing you down like many day have once felt before. You feel like you’ll survive another day in this godforsaken town, and that’s more than enough to make you see him as more than just a person, more than just a guy.

He’s Hoseok.

Your rock.

“What’s goin’ on you with, princess? Any stresses to let loose on me?”

“Nah, I’m good.”

“You sure?”

“Positive… I’m good. Now what’s up with you?” Boy do I wish I could tell you…

Not that you’d admit it.

Time is slipping away.

You can feel it, because before you can blink it’s January.

That means a few more months until it’s time for exam season, then graduation. You won’t have plans with friends for the summer, only plans to babysit and take care of the responsibilities at home that your mother often needs a helping hand in. It’s your calling, your duty, and even though you can’t seem to breathe knowing that as soon as you return back to school, you’ll be piled with more assignments and projects about frivolous subjects that can’t seem to matter outside of academic walls (seriously William Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar - you’re drowning with this guy; et tu?) you’re still sneaking away from your house to meet up with Hoseok.  

It’s only 1:31 AM, but you can see your breath in billowing clouds as you exhale, waiting for the dark-haired boy to make his way back to you.

He peeks from the door, slowly closing it behind him before he jogs over to you with a smile curving on his lips.

His eyes are bright even under the orange streetlights, simulating the sun’s bright rays rising from the dark grounds to illuminate the rest of the world. You feel warm though the slight shiver that wracks your forearms might say otherwise.

“What has you so smiley?” You ask with a tilt of your head.

He winks, “I’ll tell you at the swings. Let’s go!”

You two rush toward the swings, your limbs carrying you to the cool, plastic material. A squeal elicits your lips as soon as Hoseok’s hands make contact with your hips, moving you from your target to the opposite side of the swing. His touch lingers on one hip while the other hand is on your lips.

“Shush! You’re gonna wake the whole neighborhood, princess.” He plots down on the seat. “I win.”

You scowl, slapping his hand away before trudging toward the other swing. “Cheater.”

“All’s fair in love and war~” He replies in a singsongy voice which you cringe in response.

“You’re gonna kill birds with that singing voice, Hobie.” You deadpan, only dropping the resolve to snicker at the feigned hurt on his features. “Kidding~”

“Whatever, maybe I shouldn’t tell you my good news then.” He huffs, crossing his arms across his chest. He looks like a child, but you can’t help but pout, grabbing hold of his firm arm.

“Tell me! I wanna know what’s got you so happy.”

“Do you really wanna know?” He says, raising a brow at you from his position.

“Yes, Hobie. I do!”

“Well… remember how I said I wanted to get away?”

You nod, feeling an odd sensation build up in your gut. It’s happiness, uncertainty, and sadness mixed around.

“Well, my friend Yoongi said he could take me in. We’d be able to work on our music together. Can you believe it?” He’s grinning like he’s won the lottery, but you’re sure that this is the closest feeling to winning the lottery that he’s ever felt, and you feel your own bout of happiness and another indiscernible emotion intermingle.

But of course, you plaster a huge smile on your lips and respond, “That’s great! I’m so happy for you, holy shit…”

You blink for a second and ask, “Wait, when are you leaving?”

“In a few weeks…”

“What about Jiwoo?”

He scratches the back of his head, his lips fading into a slight line before he finds enough courage to meet your eyes. “About that…” He sighs, “I know it’s selfish to leave, but I talked to her about it. She knows how much it means to me, how much I need to get away, because unlike her, at least our parents don’t hate her. They don’t stress over her. They don’t scold her or get on her ass for not being on honor roll and pursuing ‘some stupid music thing…’ I-”

There’s a pause, and although the hand you held on his arm hasn’t left, you give him a squeeze and nod on for him to continue, muttering an “It’s okay… keep going.”

He continues, “I need this, princess. I need it so goddamn bad.”

“Do it.” You say immediately.

His eyes widen slightly. “Really?”

“Well, I can’t stop you even if I tried. And I’m just happy to see you happy.”

His ear-splitting grin splays on his lips and his arm grasps the arm you’ve had on him, giving you a tug and bringing your body against his. He squeezes your torso tightly, resting his chin on your shoulder. It’s so gloriously warm now. Not the fake warmth that spread inside, but now it’s travelled between the outside and in, filling you to the brim with emotions you want to stave off more than ever.

“I was actually a lil’ nervous to tell you, princess.” His voice is low.

“Scared I’d try to tell you to stay?”

“No…” You feel him shake his head. “Was scared to see your reaction. I didn’t wanna see you cry or somethin’.”

“Pfft, you’ll cry after you leave me. Watch.”

You can feel him grinning, squeezing you a little tighter. “If I do, promise it’ll be our little secret alright?”

Squeezing him back, you nod, “Whatever you say, Hobie.”  

When he leaves, no one else really bats an eyelash.

But you know he’s gone.

You know it so damn well, you can feel the emptiness without him or his stupid revved engine or his too-loud music blasting from his garage stereo. You know it in the way he would leave his blinds open just for you to see if he was up. You know it in the way he would call you out at 1 AM just to talk about anything and everything. But most of all, you know it in the way your heart feels like it’s missing a piece.

You push on. Only because you have to.

School doesn’t wait for those who aren’t part of it. Nor does life. You can’t say your life stopped when he left, but you can certainly say that your life is back to the ways before he was in it, back when you’re stuck in the monotonous bubbles of school, homework, house chores, and the other wonders that are meant to build your character a s young adult.

You’re back to a life where the only joy you get is listening to your middle schoolers talk about their social lives. It’s that life. That life in which everyone else runs you dry of your assistance and still expects more.

One would think that maybe Hoseok did the same before he left you, but it’s not like that at all. You never thought you could depend on another person; after all, you’re self-reliant, responsible, and perfectly capable, but with so much time spent with a boy who was considered a rebel, a delinquent, and a bad boy, you see more than meets the eye.

You see him for a boy who needed someone when he was alone. Someone who needed a pillar, a support, a rock.

You see him as someone you could depend on because even in the worst of days, he could pull your mood back to top order with a mere carefree grin, a tug of your wrist, and a destination neither of you could pinpoint until you were right there venturing and forgetting what had you so fucked over.  

The tears that slip past the corner of your eyes feel all too sudden, but you feel the onslaught of overwhelming thoughts. They do not relent.

SAT scores, college applications, jobs, future, projects, assignments, adulthood, responsibilities, repeat. Hoseok. Where are you? God, I miss you.

It’s lunchtime now. Just midday.

You suppose it can’t be helped when it’s been like this for as long as you could remember that late January day. That was at least two months ago. Now it’s almost May.

God, you can’t breathe.

Without thinking, your own limbs act on their own accord. You don’t remember getting into your car, but you do and you’re driving away, ignoring the stares sent your way as you fly out of the parking lot and into a secluded parking lot in juncture between the town and the city. Your fingers tap on your plastic cellphone- a number you’ve memorized without meaning to.

You take a leap of faith in that moment, not thinking about whether he answers or not, but you hope to God he will.

Please please please. You beg until there’s no longer the monotonous rhythm of the dial tone and instead it’s the sound of his voice laced with its usual roughness-

“Princess, this is a first. What’s up?”

You can’t tell if the traces of huskiness are from just waking and you’re convinced that you don’t care anymore. You just want to see him.

You need to.

“There’s a first for everything… Can we meet?”

“I’ll depend on you”