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angelasscribbles · 10 months ago

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Ready for this even know it's going to rip my heart out....

Because despite the House of Rys' conversion to Christianity almost a millennia ago, in the far-flung reaches of the kingdom — where the roads ran out, and the name of the King is just that... a name — the tenet of the old ways is more than just a memory.

and this is exactly how it really was, historically speaking

It is a living, breathing ethos. Suffused into the very heart of this harsh, rugged, yet beautiful land. Where portents, spells, and otherworldly creatures exist in the same breath as Christ, the Eucharist, and Judgement Day, and the very air crackles with mysticism and superstition. Which is partly what drew me here — to the edge of the proverbial map, where the laws of Cordonia fray into irrelevance in the face of the jagged peaks of the snow-capped mountains, and your fortune is what you craft it to be.

I love this whole sequence in general, but I was involved recently in a discussion in a writers group about showing v telling and there is a contingent of (sorry, boring ass) writers that believe showing takes too many words (they think it just means adding adjectives. Instead of forest, the deep, green forest). THIS is how you world build and scene set with a reasonable amount of words, no overly descriptive crap that goes on for pages and both sets the scene, grounds the story and paints an image in the readers mind! In one fell swoop you've given us history, politics and geography without info dumping or being overly verbose.

With a few sentences, we are immersed in this world!!

The Black Cavalier. The Raven Rider. The Headless Huntsman. Midnight Jack. These are all names I've carried over the years. But — more often than not — I am referred to simply as The Highwayman.

Listen.

Captain Belvedere Beaumont —

AAAAAHHHHHHHH

OMG and this.........(and all the lines preceeding it)

I like living too much. Especially as — after nigh on one-and-half score years on this Earth— I finally found something to live for.

This is some of your best writing!!!!

Drogon.....

Lupin..

Lol with the names

The Crown & The Flame!"

I am in love with all the easter eggs!

I scoff back at her as I pull the saddlebags from my shoulder. "Not a chance in hell, lass."

Ah, there's our marshmallow....

"That a complaint I hear?" I ask dryly, straightening back up.

The medieval version of "you complain'?"

"'Tis merely an observation," she replies with a shrug, the soft cotton of her shift to slide seductively off her shoulder in the process. I shake my head as I retreat back across the stable roof somewhat. This lass is going to be the death of me...

The venacular may be different, but thier banter is the same!!

My gut drops like a leaden ball at the momentary sense of weightlessness — my actions at diametric odds with my God-given sense of self-preservation —

The things that man will do for love! Also, there goes Drake being physical again....

Her hazel eyes sparkle with feeling. "With child... Yes."

Oh, no....I see what you mean about even more tragic.....

Mon coeur,

The term of endearment is the same

"I offered nothing," she counters breathlessly as I set her back down. "You stole my heart the very moment you looked upon me."

I mean.....

I hadn't meant to succumb to her. I hadn't meant to do anything quite as foolish as fall in love. But she managed to slay me with a single smile. And I've been a fool for her ever since.

I meet her eye with a level look. "He will be called a damn sight worse if he arrives into this world out of wedlock. Not to mention the fate that awaits his mother..."

Sadly, true back then

"Cocksure rake..." she admonishes. But her fingers tighten 'round mine nevertheless.

"Unpack the bags and hide the gold where your father is sure to find it," I tell her, pulling myself away with great difficulty.

Why do I feel like this is the mistake that leads to all the tragedy?

Because this time tomorrow, I hope to call her my wife.

GAH! They should have eloped right then!!!!! It hasn't even happened and I want to cry!!! I love them so much!!

I lift the silken strip from her fingers, and press it to my lips. "I'll always return to you, mon coeur. Even if hell should bar the way."

And that's why the greencoats are counting on.....

"A little suspense never killed anyone," she counters cheekily.

😒 I hate you already.....

This was so good!!! Seriously, this may be your best writing yet!

The Highwayman: Part I - Look For Me By The Moonlight

Fandom: TRR (Historical AU)

Pairing: Drake Walker x F!OC (Harper Gale)

Series Summary: On a dark, windswept night, a highwayman's luck runs out...

Masterlist: The Highwayman

Chapter Summary: Harper and Drake make a plan...

Word Count: 3,600

Rating/Warnings: M (swearing, references to smut, references to illegal activities)

Series theme song: Lyrics can be found here.

A/N1: So... This installment took a bit of a turn. Harper and Drake sprung a massive change on me because apparently, the original story was not heartbreaking enough... You have been warned.

A/N2: Astute readers will probably notice that Drake and Harper 'sound' different in this fic. This is deliberate, because this fic is historical fiction (set in the 17th century), rather than contemporary fiction, so I adjusted their vernacular accordingly (that said, I didn't go full Shakespeare because I'm not that extra 😆).

A/N3: As promised, this is my first submission for @choicesprompts January 2024 Song Rewrite Challenge. I hope to do Parts 2 and 3 shortly as well, but I can't promise both of them for January. But I might surprise myself!

Part I - Look For Me By The Moonlight

The wind lashes the black expanse of the moor, flattening the browned-out clumps of grass against the frozen ground.

I reached a gloved hand up to wedge my wide-brimmed cavalier's hat more securely onto my head, in a bid to stop it from blowing away.

The surefooted Merèns I am sat on picks his way through the brush of gorse and heather, seemingly oblivious to my plight.

"Bloody weather..." I grumble under my breath as a particularly vicious gust cuts through the buttonholes of my knee-length justacorps, instantly snatching away any vestige of warmth I may have managed to salvage.

The horse flicks his ears at the sound of my voice, as if questioning my assessment.

"Your opinion doesn't count," I tell him through gritted teeth, trying to work some warmth back into toes that have become chilled to the bone.

Drogon throws me a flippant raspberry as we skirt around a flat-topped cairn.

Just then, the wind blasts through the cracks in the rocks, causing a ghostly tune to whistles out into the cold of the night.

The coal-coated stallion flattens his ears against his head, tossing his head in displeasure at the unearthly sound.

"Not so cocky now, eh, mon gross?" I grin, reaching out to give him a reassuring pat on his neck.

The horse responds with a sour-faced snort, stepping quickly past the moss-covered waypost — a brazen reminder of this land's heathen roots.

Which is partly what drew me here — to the edge of the proverbial map, where the laws of Cordonia fray into irrelevance in the face of the jagged peaks of the snow-capped mountains, and your fortune is what you craft it to be.

Not that I can afford to be flippant with my conduct...

As even this far from the capital, the King's Greencoats still man outposts and send forth patrols in a bid to maintain order. But their presence is cursory at best. Because if you know the moor — like I do — it becomes simple to lose yourself in the mist.

Plus, the superstitious inclinations of the border folk have aided in cloaking my less than savoury operations in the guise of fireside tales — spreading news of my exploits while keeping my identity masked behind successive, and ever more fantastical embellishments.

The Black Cavalier. The Raven Rider. The Headless Huntsman. Midnight Jack.

These are all names I've carried over the years.

But — more often than not — I am referred to simply as The Highwayman.

For that is what I am. A bandit. An outlaw. A common rogue living on the wrong side of propriety with no hope of redemption. For I've committed far too many sins in this life.

I've lied, cheated, stolen, and fleeced. Not to mention evaded the Greencoats one too many times for their liking. So, I wouldn't be surprised if the promotion-hungry Captain Belvedere Beaumont — who has been after my head for years — keeps a noose specifically for me in his saddlebag.

Because, worst of all, I've killed.

I've taken men's lives at both gunpoint and sword-point. Sometimes they've even begged. But I've cut them down regardless.

The ultimate sin.

But, there has never been honour amongst thieves. And if an unfortunate bastard chooses to pull a weapon on me, then I'm going to make damn sure that that becomes his last mistake, not mine.

I like living too much.

Especially as — after nigh on one-and-half score years on this Earth— I finally found something to live for.

From out of the darkness, a lone spec of golden light hoves into view, nestled between the lee of a pair of windswept hills.

And, in spite of the hellish nature of the night, I feel the corner of my mouth lift.

As gold and jewels — while pretty and useful — pass through your hands just as fast as you acquire them, and sure as hell don't keep you warm at night. That is... unless you have someone to share your treasure with.

"Hue!" I urge, nudging Drogon into a trot.

But the opinionated stallion clearly has other ideas. As after a mere two steps, he launches into a full-fledged canter.

Not that I can necessarily blame him. We've been on the road... or lack thereof, for hours, and the sight of the twinkling promise of reprieve from the cold is enough to warrant anyone — man, or beast — to pick up their feet.

But, instead of riding up to the front of the gable-arched establishment, I direct my steed 'round to the back.

Slipping out of the saddle in the shadow of the stable block, I pull my sabre carefully from its scabbard as I reach for the metal of the door handle.

Creaking the heavy wooden door open, I sneak a glance inside. A man of my profession — and reputation — cannot afford to be lenient. So, an over-abundance of caution is a must. As is a well-sharpened blade.

Four horses occupy the darkened space, their heads coming to poke out into the gangway to assess my arrival. And, apart from the barn car dozing on a bale of hay in the corner, there is nary a soul in sight.

Pushing the door wider, I lead Drogon into the relative warmth of the structure. Espying an empty stall to my left, I direct the horse towards the manger affixed to the wall, when I suddenly hear the scrape of boots on the hard-packed earth behind me.

Whipping around, the cold metal of my sword flashes through the air, like the talons of a kite, seeking its target.

A loud gasp of surprise rises into the air as the point of the blade meets the soft flesh of the intruder's gullet.

"Please, sir!" cries Emile, the stable hand, in fright. "I only came to—"

"Drop that lantern, and there'll be almighty hell t' pay..." I warn, seeing the lantern that the youth is holding shake dangerously in his hand.

The last thing I need tonight is the barn catching fire.

The lad swallows nervously, but nods, tightening his grip on the brass handle.

"Anyone else about?" I ask, scanning the dark.

Emile jerks his head. "Jus' me an' Lupin..."

Glancing past him, I spot the bedraggled hound ambling towards its master on bowed legs.

Sheathing the weapon, I move back towards Drogon to unclasp the saddlebags. "Feed and water the horse, but leave him saddled. My business will be brief."

"Of course, sir," bobs the lad, having recovered control of his faculties somewhat.

Hefting the bags onto my shoulder, I reach into the hidden pocket of my coat. Pulling out a ha' piece of silver and flip it to the boy.

He catches it with wide eyes.

"For the trouble," I tell him as I stride past. Glancing back from the doorway, I add, "And if anyone asks, you never saw me."

"Thank ye, sir!" he affirms, quickly pocketing the coin. "And welcome back to The Crown & The Flame!"

Slipping back out into the night, I make my way quickly along the side of the barn. Locating the weather-worn ladder that leads up to the hayloft, I quickly scale the somewhat slick rungs. Grabbing onto the extruding stone lintel above the hayloft door, I use the imperfections in the crumbling mortar to pull myself up onto the peat-lined roof.

Scrambling across the ridge of the gramble, I draw upon my destination — a lone, casement window suspended on the side of the inn, the light of a single candle flickering within.

Crouching down, I cup my hands to my face. Taking a breath, I imitate the call of a cuckoo, hoping that it will carry over the sound of the wind rattling the shutters.

I wait a second... then two...

The window creaks open.

"I was beginning to think you'd forgotten about me..."

She's leaning against the side jamb, head cocked to the side as she regards me with a wry look, her long, flaxen hair lying half-pleated over one breast.

I scoff back at her as I pull the saddlebags from my shoulder. "Not a chance in hell, lass."

She rolls her eyes at me, but pushes the stile wider, nevertheless.

Securing my stance, I assess the distance. Raising my hand, I test the weight, and with a determined movement, send the pack sailing through the air.

Reaching her arms out, she catches it with practiced ease.

"It's heavy," she remarks, slotting the bags down.

"That a complaint I hear?" I ask dryly, straightening back up.

"'Tis merely an observation," she replies with a shrug, the soft cotton of her shift to slide seductively off her shoulder in the process.

I shake my head as I retreat back across the stable roof somewhat. This lass is going to be the death of me...

Turning back 'round, I take a couple of long-legged strides across the hardened peat, before throwing myself across the divide.

My gut drops like a leaden ball at the momentary sense of weightlessness — my actions at diametric odds with my God-given sense of self-preservation — as the passage of time seems to slow...

...but then my boot hits the metal sill of the window and the heavy hand of Chronos comes crashing back down on me like a hard wave against the shore.

Grasping the coolness of the central mullion, I pull myself into the haven of her room.

"God," she says with a shudder, throwing her arms 'round my neck. "You send a piece of my soul to the grave each time you do that..."

"You'd rather I take the stairs?" I drawl, the honey and wood-fire scent of her hair washing over me, warming me like the heat of the summer sun.

"And risk being caught?" she tuts. "In truth, I am not certain what would be the worse fate."

"Getting whipped by your father, for sure," I reply solemnly. "I don't think my pride could survive it."

She pulls back from me with an aghast look. "So, you would risk a broken leg... or worse, over my Da's ire?"

"Until the day I can make an honest woman of you, aye," I confirm, lifting her face to mine with a gloved finger. "I will not risk your reputation."

She laughs up at me. "You shredded my reputation when you tumbled me in the hay, good sir!"

"Aye," I concede with a smirk. "But no one knows that."

"Well, they might soon..." she admits, dropping a hand to the front of her shift.

The breath tangles in my throat. "You... You are not..."

Her hazel eyes sparkle with feeling. "With child... Yes."

Her words hit me like grapeshot out of the blue. "Nom de Dieu..."

Her smile falters in the face of my no-doubt ashen expression. "You... You are not pleased?"

I bark out a laugh. "Pleased? Mon coeur, I am over the damn moon!" Lifting her into the air, I spin her 'round in a joyous arc. "I believed myself to be blessed already for the fact that a golden-haired siren such as yourself even deigned to look at a wretch like me, much less offer me her heart."

"I offered nothing," she counters breathlessly as I set her back down. "You stole my heart the very moment you looked upon me."

"Lucky for me that I have some skill in that area," I smirk, bending towards her.

She lays into me with a playful smack. "Incorrigible rogue! Your silver tongue could disarm the devil!"

"I should hope so..." I murmur, tangling a hand in her silken hair. "It managed to disarm you..."

Our lips meet, and she melts against me with a sigh.

"Christ, I love you, Harper..." I groan, tightening the heartfelt hold I have on her, albeit mindful of the new life budding inside her.

"I love you too, Drake," she whispers, gazing up at me with complete adoration as she runs her fingers down my face. "With all that I am."

My heart constricts in my chest.

A child... Our child...

In truth, I never dared dream of it. It is not something that I believed to be in the cards for me, living as I do, in the shadow of the night... and the law. Where one simple miscalculation could end with a bullet to the gut... or a noose around the neck.

But I never thought to trade it. The thrill... The freedom... It was too addictive.

That is... until I chanced upon the bright-eyed lass currently cradled in my arms.

I hadn't meant to succumb to her. I hadn't meant to do anything quite as foolish as fall in love. But she managed to slay me with a single smile. And I've been a fool for her ever since.

Fool enough to get her child, it seems, before I even secured her father's blessing, much less married her!

I really am an incorrigible rogue...

"Drake?" The softness of her voice cuts through my senses. "My love? Are you—?"

"I am fine," I assure her, turning my head to drop a kiss into her palm. "I was just thinking..."

"Always dangerous..." she quips with a smirk.

"Hey," I counter, clasping her hands in mine. "It was a lack of thought that landed the two of us in this quandary, so—"

Her mouth parts in shock. "You dare call your own child a quandary?"

I meet her eye with a level look. "He will be called a damn sight worse if he arrives into this world out of wedlock. Not to mention the fate that awaits his mother..."

Her shoulders slump in dejection. "My father would disown me for sure..."

"And cast you out onto the moor, newborn babe in tow," I add grimly.

She heaves a morose breath. "I do despise it when you talk sense..."

"It is the thankless burden I was born to bear..."

She smacks me again.

"But in all seriousness," I continue, catching her hand in mine once more. "We must be prudent, mon coeur. The child will be here before we know it, and it is our precious duty to do best by him."

"How do you know it will be a he?" she asks softly as I lift her hands to my lips.

"Have I ever given you cause to doubt me, lass?" I ask her, feathering a kiss over her knuckles.

"Cocksure rake..." she admonishes. But her fingers tighten 'round mine nevertheless.

"So," I conclude, straightening back up, "I am thinking that it's high time we eloped."

Her eyes widen. "Elope!"

"There is a small church, about a half-day's ride from here—"

"But my father...!"

"The contents of that saddle bag should more than compensate him for the loss of his serving wench," I tell her. "As well as cover your dowry."

Her mouth opens — no doubt in planned protest — but she suddenly thinks better of it. "Alright," she agrees, raising her face to mine with a beaming smile. "Let's find that priest!"

"Whoa, whoa!" I chuckle, pulling her back into my arms as she tries to spin away. "Hold your horses, woman!"

"I thought you wanted to be quick about this," she counters.

"I do," I affirm. "But it's the middle of the night and I don't have a horse for you, much less a ring..."

She glances towards the window. "I am sure there's something in those bags we can misappropriate for our purposes. And I can saddle up Devlin. He is a cart-horse, but I am sure—"

I shake my head. "Nay. I want to start our new life together as a reformed man. No more thieving... No more profiting off ill-gotten gains."

"But how will we—?"

"Don't you worry your pretty head about that, my sweet," I assure her. "I have enough booty stashed away to buy you a palfrey, as well as a ring that is worthy of your otherworldly beauty—"

She blushes at my compliment. "Don't exaggerate, sir..."

"'Tis no exaggeration," I assure her with a wink. "And perchance even enough to let us acquire a flat in town, or a small holding in the interior... Or if none of that takes your fancy, I'll build us a cottage in the woods, or a cot by the sea, and—"

"I've never set eyes upon the sea..." she breathes in wonder.

"The point is," I conclude. "We have sufficient coin to afford ourselves the freedom of choice, mon coeur."

She arches a skeptical brow. "And when we run out?"

I let out a low exhale. "And when we run out, I suppose I'll have to pick up an honest trade."

She scoffs. "You? Honest? Those two words don't abide each other, Drake. You've been a scoundrel your whole life!"

"And yet... somehow,"I roll my eyes at her ruefully. "You are about to make an honest man out of me, Harper. So, I am loath to admit that the concept may not be as outlandish as it may appear at first blush."

"I suppose," she concedes with an equally wry quirk to her mouth. "Just don't lose your zest for life. It is the very thing I fell in love with."

"I thought it was my roguish charm," I counter.

"The two go hand in hand," she assures me, lifting her face to mine again.

Our lips fuse — with greater ardency this time — and I am loath to part from her.

But, I know that I must. The night is wearing on, and if I am to abide by my promise to her, I must get back on the road.

"Unpack the bags and hide the gold where your father is sure to find it," I tell her, pulling myself away with great difficulty.

She nods silently, cheeks flushed from our heated exchange.

Slipping out of my arms, she retrieves the saddlebags from their place by the wall and carries it to the other side of the room. Locating the loose floorboard at the foot of the bed, she dumps the contents in and replaces the covering.

"When will you return?" she asks, handing the bags back to me.

"As hastily as I can," I assure her. "But if the Greencoats are out in force, I may need to trek via the marshes, which will take longer and be more arduous."

"Please take care," she pleads, grasping my hand in hers. "The marshes are treacherous, especially in the winter."

"I always do," I soothe, reaching up to cup her face with my free hand. "But should I do not return by noon, then look for me by the moonlight."

"I will," she affirms, eyes shining with fervour. "I love you."

"I love you, too, mon coeur," I rasp, drawing her in for one final kiss.

She presses herself to me, as aggrieved by our forced parting as I, and I kiss her hungrily back. But I know in my heart that the brief absence will be worth the bitterness of the sorrow.

Because this time tomorrow, I hope to call her my wife.

Breaking off the kiss, I swing the empty bags back onto my shoulder and turn towards to the still-open window.

"Wait!"

Turning around, I spot her pulling the dark red ribbon from the unfinished pleat in her hair.

"What's this?" I ask as she holds it out for me.

"A good-luck charm," she replies. "To speed you back to me."

I lift the silken strip from her fingers, and press it to my lips. "I'll always return to you, mon coeur. Even if hell should bar the way."

"I know," she says simply. "But a small trinket cannot hurt your efforts. Now, fly! Fly like a witch on the wind! And give Drogon a kiss from me."

"I'd rather steal another kiss from you," I admit, tucking the ribbon against my heart.

"I'd rather save some for the wedding night..." she counters with a sly look.

I throw her a sidelong look as I climb back onto the window sill. "Lass, you can rest assured that we'll be doing a damn sight more than kissing on our wedding night..."

The waves of her now loosened hair brush my shoulder as she leans in to whisper, "I didn't say which part of you I'm saving the kisses for."

A deep-throated groan tumbles from my lips as she drops a teasing kiss on my neck. "You're going to be the death of me, woman..."

"A little suspense never killed anyone," she counters cheekily.

"Somehow I doubt that," I scoff as I drop back into the night.

Part II - Coming Soon!

A/N: Translations for the French below:

Mon gross - lit. 'my fat' but as a slang term, it is the equivalent of 'my buddy' or 'my bro'.

Hue - apparently this is a somewhat archaic equestrian command that was used to tell the horse to go (equiv. to giddy-up). Not 100% sure if the e is supposed to have an accent, so if anyone knows, tell me!

Mon coeur - lit. 'my heart' but connotatively the same as 'my love'

Nom de Dieu - lit. ‘name of God’, but connotatively the same as ‘Oh, my God’ or ‘God God’

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#you're going to rip my heart out #and yet I'm going to read it #because it's that good #I hate you in the best possible way #ugh

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theggning · 3 years ago

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Chapters: 1/5 Fandom: Fallout 4, Fallout (Video Games) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Paladin Danse/Piper Wright Characters: Paladin Danse (Fallout), Piper Wright, Male Sole Survivor, Diamond City Character(s), Brotherhood of Steel Character(s), Nat Wright, Arthur Maxson Additional Tags: Humor, Romance, Friends to Lovers, Friends With Benefits, Mutual Pining, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Developing Relationship, Doomed Relationship (or is it?), Banter, Whoops We Caught Feelings In Our Explicitly Platonic FWB Arrangement, Fluff and Smut, Pre-Blind Betrayal, Foreshadowing Series: Part 4 of Bootycall of Steel Summary:

As the Brotherhood gears up for war against the Institute, Danse juggles his medical orders with his career and his sponsorship of a certain knight. Piper fights the "Good Fight" with her journalism and escalates her ongoing feud with city hall. Meanwhile, their relationship is a welcome distraction for them both, slowly turning from a friendly arrangement to something much more intense.

Too bad the last thing either can do is admit the truth. Because as their feelings grow more obvious, so, too, does the fact they're heading for an inevitable fall.

Humor and banter, shameless fluff, light smut, character interactions, and other short vignettes building into a larger narrative. Pining, angst, and agonizing foreshadowing on the horizon.

#fallout 4 #fallout fic #paladin danse #piper wright #danse/piper #panse #bootycall of steel #bootycall of steelverse #here it is folks #the bit where i grab the wheel #and maniacally steer the ship towards the rocks #i wouldn't be too worried #i am nothing if not a soft marshmallow of a writer #and we all love that delicious drama #sorry about the picture btw #i hear it when i read it and you all get to suffer with me #if you're this old anyway

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iichaeyj · 2 years ago

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hiii!! :D AAAAAAAA i'm so happy your requests are open, it's my birthday and you're my absolute favorite writer☹️☹️💞💞 can you please write something about camping with taehyun?? :0<3

PAIRING: taehyun x gn!reader

GENRE: fluff

WARNINGS: one curse word; mentions of fire (?)

WORD COUNT: 0.7k

A/N: omg happy birthday!!!!! you've been supporting me since i started so this is the least i could do <33 i hope u have a lovely day!!

"what were you doing here on a saturday night?" you thought to yourself, sitting on a portable, pull-out plastic chair in the middle of the woods. you look around at all the dirt around you, grimacing when you spot a spider crawling by. you weren't one for the outdoors in general, so why did you even agree to spend the night here?

the answer was obvious, though, as you look back up at your boyfriend who was currently tending to the fire. you could see the way he was proudly staring at the bonfire he had made all by himself.

as much as you hated camping, you had reluctantly agreed when you saw how much the idea excited taehyun. you remembered the way he was practically hopping up and down, showing you the book he had read on "surviving the outdoors". the very idea that you have to "survive" in order to camp was frightening enough for you to never want to step into a forest again, but you could never really say no to your loving boyfriend.

"look!" taehyun says, pulling you out of your trance, "i got the marshmallows ready!"

you saw that taehyun had placed marshmallows onto a stick, all ready for you both to roast over the fire. you pull your chair closer to him, taking one of the sticks offered to you.

"you're too good to me," you tell him as you spin your marshmallow over the bonfire. you hadn't done much besides unpacking the supplies since you'd gotten there. taehyun was the one who had set up the tent and the fire. in all honesty, he had wanted to do everything and was fine with you just keeping him company, but it was true that you felt like you hadn't been very helpful.

a light blush graces taehyun's face at the unexpected compliment, sheepishly smiling at you.

"it's the least i could do for you," he says softly, "i'm the one who dragged you out here with me."

you shake your head, all the negative thoughts about camping suddenly leaving your mind. you didn't really mind when you were next to your boyfriend who was willing to take care of you so often.

"i'm happy to be here with you!" you say, smiling brightly at him, "i think i'd be fine no matter where i go, as long as you're with me."

you blush a little at the sudden sentimental words that leave your mouth. before you could speak more, though, you're greeted by a soft kiss on the lips.

"i like when you tell me those things," he whispers, barely audible to anyone that could've been nearby, but so loud to you who were in front of him.

with both of your faces burning red in the cold june air, you decide that camping wasn't that bad after all. nothing could really be bad when your boyfriend was kang taehyun.

you break the silence with sudden giggling.

"was that too cheesy?" taehyun asks, his face burning up even more.

"not at all," you say, the smile from earlier getting bigger as you giggle, "i just didn't expect you to say those things here, not when there's probably dead flies under our feet right now."

"what a way to kill the romantic mood," taehyun teases.

"what do you mean?" you joke back, "are you telling me dead flies don't make you wanna kiss me?"

taehyun smiles at your teasing behavior, leaning closer as he gives you a small peck on your cheek.

"you're lucky i like you so much that i tolerate you and your fixation on dead flies," he says softly, looking into your eyes.

you look back, looking at him the same way he looks at you.

"i am, aren't i," you reply, pulling him in for another kiss.

"wait," taehyun suddenly says, looking over at the fire, "i think your marshmallow's burning."

"shit!"

#iichaeyj writes #iichaeyj #tomorrow x together #txt #txt x reader #txt imagines #txt scenarios #txt headcanons #txt fluff #taehyun x reader #txt reactions #taehyun fluff #taehyun fic #taehyun x you #taehyun x y/n #taehyun headcanons #taehyun drabbles #taehyun imagines

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hanniiesuckle17 · 4 years ago

Text

Fireworks

A/n: this is not requested but i needed to write something for me and I always love writing best friend!jisung (this turned out to be hella long btw). Also i just realized this is the 16th jisung fic on my masterlist wtf. Welp happy sweet sixteen jisung.

Tag List: @mini-meanhoe @leggomylino @hanstagrams @desertofdessert @hoes4hoseok @yangomangos @jeonqqin @geminirules @crscendoforsung @mrsunshine999 @jisungsjheekies @hannie-squirrel00 @cotccotc @kodzu-ken @konenichi @yangs-jeongin @binniebutter @skzwriternet

Warnings: cussing probably, lil distressed jisung, alcohol consumption

Word Count: 5.2k

Summary: Y/n and Jisung practically grew up together. Y/n always dreamed of getting her fairytale happy ending. So, Jisung is surprised when she is settling for an all but labeled ‘arranged marriage’ to an asshole that Jisung knows doesn’t love her. Not like he does. Can Jisung convince himself to go after what he really wants and take the risks that come with it? Can Y/n face the facts that what she has wanted has been in front of her all along?

Genre: romance, fluff, angst, non-idol!au, bestfriend!au, friends to lovers!au, wedding crasher!au, Fem Reader

❃

“Please, come today!”

Jisung sighed over the phone. “Y/n. I have no knowledge whatsoever about dresses. Especially wedding dresses! They’re all white! What’s the difference?” I could hear the murmurs of Changbin and Chan on the other side of the line. “See. I will be no help at all!” Despite the negative connotation of his words I could hear the tiny smile in his voice.

“So, we’re meeting outside the shop at five.”

“Y/n, I’m not going.”

“2146 Chyeongsong Ave, got it?”

“Yes, I’ve got it.”

Letting out a happy laugh I hung up on my best friend, sure that his attendance could be accounted for. The wedding was three months away. Jiho, my fiancee, had no desire for a big wedding and it seemed the sooner we were married the happier he would be.

But, I had always dreamed of a magical wedding with hundreds of people watching me marry the man of my dreams. So, we compromised. He said I could plan as big I wedding as I wanted as long as I could get it done in three months and he would pay for it.

Jiho was the son of one of Seoul’s big company presidents. His family was very kind and seemed to welcome me with open arms despite my less than formal upbringing. Jiho grew up in a penthouse apartment and went to the best university in Seoul.

I grew up in a tiny house in the rundown suburbs next door my best friend, Jisung, and busted my ass to get scholarships and pay my way through a cheap college. Jisung was beside me in all the big moments in my life. He was my best friend and I loved him more than anything.

“So, what did he say?”

Sooyoung’s head of curly dark hair popped over the cubicle divider separating our two desks. I laughed and gave her a thumbs up. “You doubted my power of Jisung persuation?”

“Never. You could convince that boy to run around Gangnam with his shoes on his ears and screaming at the top of his lungs if you wanted to.” Laughing at the thought, I turned back to my computer, desperately watching the minutes tick by before I would get to start searching for my wedding dress.

❃

A slightly chilling breeze blew across the street. Jisung regardless of his lack of enthusiasm on the phone picked me up from work to walk with me to my dress appointment. My mother, other best friend Yuri, and Jiho’s sister Bo Rim were already waiting outside. Everyone greeted us with a smile as we walked up. My arm was looped with Jisung’s and my hand was stuffed in his jacket pocket since it was cold.

My mother smiled and embraced Jisung with a kiss on the cheek before motioning us inside. My entourage and I were quickly greeted by a consultant. “Hi! My name is Hyunsoon, I’ll be your consultant today. You must be the gorgeous bride, Y/n!” She smiled looking me up and down before glancing at my arm linked with the man beside me. “And is this handsome young man your husband-to-be?”

Jisung shook his head dark hair falling in his eyes. A tight smile sat on his lips as he answered the woman. “No, I’m just the best friend. I’m not going to stay for the whole appointment.” She nodded looking at Jisung with new eyes. “I want to be surprised. Regardless, Y/n will look radiant in whatever she chooses.”

After a few questions about my wedding Hyunsoon led me back into a dressing room and my family and friends to a couch with mirrors around it.

“Are you excited for your wedding?” She asked with a kind smile, placing dressing on the wall of the dressing room for me to see.

“You could say that,”

Her brows furrowed. “You don’t sound very excited?” I shrugged and laughed nervously. The dresses she had picked out were very pretty. Sensing I had nothing more to say on the topic she helped me into the first dress.

It was weird to see myself in the garment. I watched her fix the dress with clips so it would fit as it should before looking over to me. The dress was more of a ball gown style. It poofed out just above my hips and was strapless with a sweetheart neckline.

“Do you want to go out and show them?” I nodded and helped her pick up the many layers of tulle skirt. Hearing fabric brush against the ground as we walked out of the hallway, the heads of my entourage turned. Several smiles were seen from my view in the mirror as I stepped up onto the pedestal.

I gazed once again at the dress in the mirror. It was a gorgeous gown; there was no doubt. Feeling ready for their opinion, I turned around to face the peanut gallery. “What do you think?” My mother was quick to gush over the skirt. Bo Rim and Yuri both raved over the shiny beading on the bodice. Mrs. Nam, Jiho’s mother seemed to like it just fine. My eyes fell on Jisung who said nothing. He looked at me, arms crossed and fingers brushing over his bottom lip. “Ji?”

“It’s....nice...”

Struggling not to laugh I replied, “One of the most incredible song writers I know and the only thing he has to say is ‘nice’?” My friend chuckled and his stare raked over the fabric before looking back up at my face.

“It’s not you. You don’t look like you. You look like some frilly puffy marshmallow girl.”

From anyone else the comment would offend but all I could do was laugh. “He’s right this is definitely not me.” Nodding the consultant ushered me back into the dressing room. Five dresses later, nothing felt right and I was beginning to get stressed out. “What do I do, Hyunsoon? Nothing feels right. I’m not feeling those....fireworks.” The beautiful woman looked at me in question. “Sorry, it’s something Jisung and I say to each other. It’s like our wish for the other to find so much happiness that it feels like...actual fireworks.” I explained with a light laugh.

She sat down on the floor with me, moving the short silk robe further over my thigh, a gentle gesture. “Tell me more about your fiancee,” She kept her hand on my knee and rubbed soothing circles on my skin.

“Ummm....well...his name is Nam Jiho. He’s really nice and very very smart. Like holy fuck, he is insanely smart. He spends most of his time at work and he really likes to run as well.”

She looked at me expectantly. “That’s it?” I nodded, a little unsure of what else she wanted me to say. “And you love him?”

“Of course! What kind of a question is that? I’m getting married aren’t I?” Though I smiled, she could tell there was the smallest bit of insecurity. She thought for a minute tapping her fingers softly on my knee.

I felt somewhat lost among the mountains of white fabric scattered about the room. “Okay then! Whose opinion matters the most to you out of everyone you brought with you today?”

“Oh- Jisung. Of course.”

“Tell me about Jisung,”

A hefty sigh left my lips, but a small happy smile soon replaced it. “Jisung is....he’s like....my person you know? Like anytime I need him- even when I don’t need him- he’s always around. We grew up together. He is my everything. I trust him with more than my life. He’s just....Jisung. He is fully himself and unapologetic about it.” Ilaughed recalling thousands and thousands of memories with him. “He is a total asshole. Way too confident. But, he gets really shy sometimes. He’s also very genuine and has the biggest heart. Without Jisung...I wouldn't be who I am today.”

She smiled and pushed herself off the ground. “I will be right back!” Just as she closed the door, Hyunsoon winked over at me and left me alone in the dressing room.

❃

Jisung’s POV

I was beginning to feel restless. Y/n hadn’t come out in at least thirty minutes. My leg was going to bounce off my body at this point. Unable to sit still any longer I pushed myself off the plush couch. It was getting harder and harder to control my heart seeing Y/n walk out in all these gowns knowing she was going to marry another man.

Wandering through the labyrinth-like rows of white frocks, I found myself thinking once again about Y/n. Not bothering to cage my thoughts they ran wild with daydreams of Y/n choosing dresses imagining what I would think of her walking down the aisle. Her smiling at me instead of that asshat, Jiho.

Turning down an obviously dead end, my eyes fell on the mannequin standing in the center of the row. A delicate dress hung on the figure.Tattooed lace around the bodice and down the front of the gown to the hips fading like waves on shore. The back was low and open and my mind filled in the gaps, picturing Y/n’s soft skin laying beneath the fabric. My fingers brushed over the long thin sleeves.

The sound of the a door closing snatched me from the my tantalizing reverie. “Oh- You’re Jisung right?” The woman asked walking closer. I recognized her as the one helping with Y/n’s appointment. I gave her a short nod, shoving my hands into the pockets of my jacket. “I actually need your help.”

“Anything for Y/n.” The beautiful woman’s brow quirked up and a smile slid onto her painted lips. “I mean....anything...for the bride.”

Her tongue slid over her white teeth. There was so much white around, my head was starting to physically hurt. “Uh huh. Anyway! Y/n basically hates everything not only I have picked, but also everything she’s picked.” I stood waiting for the part where I could possibly help. “She trusts you. She wouldn’t stop talking about you.”

“I’m sorry....I don’t see how-”

“I see you’re looking at dresses. Have you seen one that you like? Maybe....one you would like...on Y/n?” My eyes fell to the floor, glancing over at the mannequin briefly. My quick gaze did not go unnoticed by Y/n’s consultant. “Well...Jisung....don’t you have good taste.” She walked over to dress form and checked the price tag before giving the gown a once over. “Revealing taste too....” She sang with a smirk.

I looked away rubbing the back of my neck, the area feeling very itchy all of a sudden. “I-I- uh...the dress just seems like her. It’s very.....mesmeric. Her.”

“She did say you have a way with words.” Hyunsoon, I think her name was, walked over to one of the racks pushing past dresses until she pulled out one I assumed was in my bestfriend’s size. “Go sit back down! I know she’s going to love this one.”

My head tilted back and I let out a sigh. As much as it pained me, I knew seeing that dress on Y/n and knowing it was ‘the one’ would be it for me. I’d snap and in front of all her family, soon to be and current, I’d confess how much I loved her and that I didn’t want her to marry that dick. I’d ruin what would be her perfect happy ending. Well...in her words....her ‘Moderatley-Happy-Fiancially-Stable Ending’.

“Actually...I’m gonna head out. I know she’s gonna love it. Tell her I hope she gets her fireworks.”

Willinging myself to start moving, I walked past Hyunsoon and towards the door, only stopping once. A glimpse. I caught only a glimpse. The door of Y/n’s dressing room opened and I saw the bright smile on her lips as she looked at the dress being brought to her. “That’s your last look, Han.” I mumbled under my breath. “Now turn around and walk out.”

With every ounce of willpower left in my body, I did.

❃

The TV droned in my rundown apartment. My two closest friends, outside the one I was deeply in love with, were half drunkenly lounged in my tiny living room. I scowled at the television, taking another drink from the bottle in my hand.

“Dude- slow down. That’s like your sixth drink.” The eldest chided, tossing a balled up fast food wrapper at my head.

Ignoring the fellow musician’s advice, I chugged the rest of the beer shooting Chan a look. “Chan let him be. You know what tomorrow is.” Changbin sighed. Turning, I found him hanging off an armchair upside down, scrolling through his phone. It was silent for a while until the inverted boy spoke up again. “I still don’t get why she’s marrying that douchebag.”

Knowing where this conversation was going I escaped to the kitchen, preoccupying myself with grabbing another beer from the fridge. the other two boys paid me no mind and continued the discussion as if I was invisible. Chan’s attention turned back to me as I plopped down next to him on the dusty old couch. “Han, didn’t you say you caught the guy cheating like....multiple times....”

It was true. I had caught Jiho not once, not twice, not even three times, but four times I had got him with other women. Jiho liked to go out to clubs. The scumbag would pretend that he was working late so Y/n would be none the wiser, then he would stay out until three in the morning drinking and getting with random girls he met. The bastard didn’t even have the decency to frequent establishments he knew I wouldn’t be at. My music career was in the dumps lately and I had resorted to DJ-ing at downtown clubs.

That fucking asshole even had the audacity to flirt with other girl while Y/n was around. She had invited me out with the two of them for drinks after a promotion at work. The second she leaves for the bathroom Jiho starts making moves on the waitress. Right in front of me.

“Yeah....well, there’s nothing I can do about it.” On multiple occasions I had tried to tell Y/n about her terrible fiancee. Every time I tried, all I could see was the look of hope on her face. the look that practically begged for me to tell her that Jiho and I were finally getting along. And....I couldn’t do it. I could never do it.

“Boo hoo. Horton hears a bitch ass liar!” Changbin slurred from his awkward position.

“What?”

“That is quite possibly the biggest lie you have ever told.”

I scoffed, rolling my eyes. Chan yanked the beer out of my grip and handed me a water bottle instead. “Oh and what do you suppose I do then?” I managed to get the words out before Chan less than gently shoved the water in my face.

The man beside me sighed and shifted to face me fully. “You love Y/n. Yes or No?”

“Yes.”

“She needs to know that.” I shook my head. No, she did not need to know that. I was not going to be the reason Y/n ruined her chance at a good life. Looking around my apartment I saw nothing but disappointment. Most months it was hard to make rent and I could barely afford to do anything but the bare necessities. She deserved better than what I could give her. “We all know Y/n is only settling. This is definitely not the fairytale ending she always talked about.”

“Chan, there’s no such thing as fairytales. Even Y/n knows that.” Inwardly, I grimaced at my own words. Had Y/n been around to hear those words I would have been slapped upside the head.

“How do you know that? Do you have proof?” Changbin mused, a drunk smile on his face. “Let’s say this is a fairytale. You and Y/n have to be the main characters! The prince and the princess always get to together in the end! Duhhh!”

Even in my sour and depressed mood it was easy to laugh as Changbin slid off the armchair and landed on his head. “He does have a point, Ji.” Chan said, listing his head back onto the couch. Two of his fingers pushed the bottom of the bottle back up towards my face. “You’re the leading man in your own life, dude. Stop acting like the best friend. If you want her go get her.”

My thumb brushed over the grooves in the plastic . The alcohol was quickly clearing out of my system. A numbness filled my body as I contemplated the options put in front of me. Maybe it was time for me to be selfish. Maybe it was time for me to get what I wanted.

Taking a deep breath, I pushed myself off the sofa and headed for the door.

❃

Thirteen hours. Thirteen hours before my best friend’s wedding and I was walking to her house at two in the morning to confess my feelings for her. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” I mumbled under my breath. The view of her parents house was growing closer as I walked down the street. Y/n told me earlier in the week she would be staying there the night before the big day.

Just like so many nights in our teen-dom, a familiar yellow glow from Y/n’s bedroom window illuminated the street below her house. Through the second story window I could see glimpses of movement. For a moment I just stood, doubting all the decisions I made in the last twenty minutes. I could chicken out here. Turn around and go home. She would never know.

Just as I was about to turn around, I was caught in daze by the image in the window. Y/n stepped into view, radient like a new morning. From the little I could see from the street, she was wearing the dress I had picked from the boutique. Her hair was messily pushed back and strands fell in front of her eyes. The glint of the standing mirror flashed across from where she stood. Her beautiful E/c eyes trained on her reflection.

She was breathtaking. My chest got tight just looking at her and a cold sweat was born on my palms. I watched as she rung her hands together, nervously twisting the rings on her fingers; a habit we both shared. Y/n let out a shaky breath before returning her gaze to the looking glass, this time with a smile.

Her delicate fingers reached up and brushed her cheek before they stretched out as if to shake some invisible person’s hand. Her smile grew brighter as she talked to this imaginary person. She laughed and looked truly the happiest I had seen her in a long time.

My eyes fell to the road, scuffing my shoe on the asphalt. She was happy. No matter how badly I wanted her.....there was no way I was going to take that away from her. Y/n’s happiness mattered more than mine. I could find comfort in the knowledge that she would be happy. That she would be taken care of. That she got everything she deserved. Everything I could never give her.

Turning on my heel, the cold air and truth bleeding me sober, I walked back into the city away from my happy ending.

❃

Y/n’s POV

Thirteen hours. Thirteen hours before my wedding and I was questioning everything for absolutely no reason. The rest of my family was long asleep. Yet, here I sat in my wedding dress feeling like everything I was doing, every decision I made.....was wrong. I felt like crying for no reason, my throat refusing to be anything but tight.

Coming to my feet, I smoothed out the gorgeous gown and walked with no purpose until I found myself staring at the mirror on the far side of the room. The girl on the other side of the glass looked like a bride. Why wasn’t I happy with that?

Standing up tall like my mother lectured many times in the past few days, I pursed my lips and put on a pained smile. “Hi, I’m Mrs. Nam Jiho,” The name felt unclean coming from my lips. Tilting my head, I rubbed my face before staring back at my reflection. I sighed pushing back the feeling of tears begging to spill over.

“It’s nice to meet you, my name is Nam Y/n.” I shivered, swallowing the last bit of moisture in my mouth. “Nam....Y/n.....Y/n Nam....Mrs.Nam Y/n.” The more I tried to look at the person who I would become the more I felt like crying. “It’s nice to meet you, I’m Mrs. Nam Y/n....” Before I could finish the words I broke into tears. Loud sobs filled my room and all I could do was stare at the hollow shell reflected in my mirror.

My heart ached. The air in the room around me felt heavy, like a weight on my shoulders, pushing me down into the ground. Pushing past the lump in my throat, my eyes returned to the mirror, this time fixating on the photos framing the glass. Pictures of my friends and family.

My heart lifted seeing a photo of Jisung and me. It was an old picture from highschool, probably taken on one of those disposable cameras you could get at corner stores. His school uniform was slightly too big for his then thin frame. My skirt was just a little too long and my shoes were never quite the right size. We were seated on the bleachers outside the school. Jisung sat on the row above me and let me rest between his legs. His arm was wrapped around my shoulders, as he leaned around to kiss my cheek. I was caught in the middle of a laugh and Jisung looked so happy right next to me.

I smiled remembering the day from the printed memory. A friend we both had lost touch with had taken the photo while we weren’t looking. We then got teased for days afterwards. My fingers brushed over the delicate fabric of the dress. The dress that Jisung had chosen. Jisung. Almost every happy moment of my life....was tied to Jisung. Taking a step forward, I looked back in the mirror. Sniffing away the tears, I smiled.

“I’m please to meet you....I’m Mrs. Han Jisung,”

The smile on my face grew bigger and my heart swelled. Reaching up I brushed away the tears that spilled over before holding my hand as if meeting one of the guests at my wedding. “Jisung and I are so pleased you could come to our wedding,”

The feeling in my chest had me wishing to cry all over again but for a different reason. I wanted to jump and scream at the top of my lungs the name ‘Han Y/n’. The more I said it, the more I felt like a teenager again.

All I could think about was Jisung. His dark hair, dyed one too many times, leaving it slightly damaged but somehow still soft. His big, round, doe eyes. The way he told the stupidest jokes. His voice- not just when he sang, but even simply speaking his voice was one of my favorite sounds. Pressing my hands to my cheeks, I pulled away finding them hot.

“Fuck...I’m in love with Jisung.”

❃

“Okay, I need everyone to give me some fucking space!” I shouted, effectively silencing my dressing room. One by one, my maid of honor ushered the ladies out. I let slip one time that I am having second thoughts and all hell breaks loose.

Sitting at the vanity, my head fell into my hands. I was dejected. Confused. And obviously sitting with a pretty big headache. I hadn’t heard from Jisung since the dress appointment and he didn’t answer any of my texts this morning. It was like he was avoiding me. Eyeing the champagne on table I contemplated drinking the whole damn bottle then just going through with the event. As much as I wanted to get married, I didn’t want to do it to someone I didn’t love.

Standing up, I manuevered the champagne filled vessel away from my body and popped it, the sound letting loose a satisfying echo. The bubbly liquid filled the glass flute I picked up. My first sip was interrupted by a knock on the door.

“I told you guys I needed space! Just fuck off!”

Downing the glass, I turned to pour another one. Drunk ceremony was looking like my best option right about now. The click of the dressing room door opening caused my ears to prick up. “I said fuck off-”

“That’s not very nice language coming from the bride.”

Jisung stood in the doorway, hesitant smile on his face. His hair was almost styled, pieces still falling loose over his forehead. A black blazer hung over an untucked slightly wrinkled white dress shirt. His slender hands were shoved in the pockets of his blue jeans.

“Coming from you that’s rich,” He watched me drink in his appearance. “Jeans, Ji? You come to my wedding in jeans and Doc Martens?”

My best friend rubbed the back of his neck, eyes trained on the carpeted floor. “To be honest....I wasn’t sure I was coming at all.”

I blinked, trying to process the words just said to me. My best friend....the man I loved more than anything in the world...said he almost didn’t come to my wedding. “Excuse me?”

“Y/n....we need to talk....”

My chest tightened in anticipation as I watched Jisung close the door. He stayed on the opposite side of the room seemingly nervous or afraid to even look my way. A hint of a smile appeared as I watched Jisung anxiously turn the silver rings around his fingers. “Ji, have you been avoiding me...”

Instead of answering, the man’s eyes fell to the bottle on the vanity. He motioned to it, wordlessly asking for a glass. Stepping away, I allowed him enough room to cross and pour a glass for himself. He downed the flute like a shot almost making me laugh at the similarity between us. “Didn’t you want to get married outside? In a forest if I remember correctly?”

“Don’t change the subject, Jisung.”

“I’m not.” For the first time I felt like Jisung really looked at me. His eyes seemed to soften. Before I could once again appreciate how beguiling his eyes were, they retreated back to their place on the floor. “Y/n....this isn’t you. You deserve a fairytale ending. Your fairytale ending. You don’t deserve a shotgun wedding in some church with nobody watching just waiting for the hour de vours to be passed out.”

“I’m not pregnant. This isn’t a shotgun-”

“Please just let me finish, Y/n....”

Nodding, I leaned against the vanity and watched my friend’s hands brushed through his dark locks. The silver hanging from his ears glinted in the bright fluorescent lighting. “Y/n...Don’t....don’t get married.” He seemed encouraged by my reaction, or lack thereof. “I think about you a little more than I should. A lot more actually. For a long time. Y/n/n, I’ve been in love with you since grade school.”

A familiar lump began to form in my throat and a pit formed in my stomach. Gaining confidence, Jisung’s eyes met mine. “It’s been killing me...seeing you with that asshole. I know you’re happy. I know that you’re better off with him. He can give you everything that I can’t, because you deserve to have a nice house. You deserve to be spoiled with gifts and trips. You deserve to not come home every night and worry whether the rent has been paid.” Jisung stopped and stared at the empty glass in his hands.

“You always talked about fairytales when we were little. Well...my fairytale would just be us. No magic. No princes and princesses. Cause you’re enough for me. More than enough. Y/n, you’re it for me. You’re my fairytale.”

His eyes widened seeing a single tear rolling down my cheek. Before continuing Jisung watched me with shaking hands carefully set the glass flute on the vanity behind me.

“I- I want you to be happy. If you’re happy with Jiho then I will go out into that church and clap when you get hitched. Because, that's what friends fucking do and that I can give you. But...if there is any chance....any part of you...that loves me at all....even a little bit....”

He gulped, fingers ferociously twisting the rings on his right hand. Not many would believe it, but Jisung was shy. Introverted. It was rare to see him like this. Jisung wasn’t afraid or nervous, but more timid or demure. I could almost see his heart physically stop beating as I opened my mouth to speak.

“I’m not happy, Ji.” He blinked, big, brown, doe eyes trying to understand what I meant. “I want to be. But, I can’t be happy with someone I don’t love. I don’t care about the money or the gifts. I just.....want my fireworks. I think you can understand that more than anyone.”

Jisung nodded dejectedly, shoving his hands into the pockets of the blazer that seemed to be holding itself together with only a few threads. He seemed to not understand what I was saying. “I do....understand- I mean. That’s all I want for you. If you can’t be happy with Jiho or me then-”

“Fuck, Ji. You really are dense aren’t you?”

“What?”

Reaching forward, I twisted the collar of Jisung’s slightly unbuttoned shirt and pulled him closer. Before our lips even touched I could feel electricity in the air, sparking and making room hotter. Finally feeling my lips against his sent my stomach on a rollercoaster; twisting, turning, loop de loops, and free falls giving me the greatest feeling spreading to the rest of my body.

The feeling of my fingers sliding up his neck, must have brought Jisung out of whatever shock induced daze he was in. Like second nature his arms wrapped around me, cool hands pressing into the bare skin of my back. There was nothing but fire in my stomach as Jisung dragged his lips over mine at a painstakingly slow pace. The man smiled feeling me pull and tangle my fingers in his soft dark tresses.

“Fireworks?” I asked, pulling away with my bottom lip snagged between my teeth.

“Millions.” Jisung’s thumb brushed over my cheek before he leaned back in capturing my lips in another death defying kiss. “Did you drive here? I took the train.” He mumbled between kisses.

I laughed feeling happier than any moment before in my life. “My car is out back. You’re driving.”

Opening my eyes, I saw that signature smirk my best friend was famous for. For the first time I knew why my insides did flips when it was directed at me. Lacing his fingers with mine he dragged me from the dressing room and led me through the halls as fast as we could run with one of us in a wedding dress. As we reached the car, slamming the doors shut, the bells in the chapel started to ring making the both of us grin. Jisung leaned over, fastening my seatbelt before kissing my lips like they were his only source of air.

“You make quite the gorgeous runaway bride,”

❃

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batfoonery · 4 years ago

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BatPets Headcanons

In honor of the Most Glorious and Beloved Bitewing (and Ace and Titus and Alfred the Cat and Goliath and Batcow.....) I wanted to share my thoughts on what pets the batfam has and should have.

Dick

Ahhhhhhh Bitewing! Our new beloved! We've only just gotten you but if you get whooshed away by bad writers I already know I will RIOT.

It actually makes perfect sense for Dick to take in a stray pup. His bro-son has the attitude and personality of a cat, so he already had that covered. And I can't see him paying high prices for a designer breed (bless him) so it's stray/shelter or nothing.

That being said, he also needs a young dog. Some people are made with the disposition to take in the older dogs with older dog needs, but Dick loves deeply and I can't see that he'd deal well with the shorter timeframe of taking in older dogs. So. Younger dogs, that he can go running with in the morning and play with in the park and nap with on the couch.

Jason

My man has taste, and also had a doggo as a kid. He's got a soft spot for all of Gotham's forgotten strays. I see him as being a pitbull kind of guy, but like. Also mastiffs. Anything big and menacing looking, but they always turn out to be utter marshmallows.

Totally the type to name his big scary dog Tinkerbell or Baby or something mushy like that. Likewise, Kori and Artemis (and probably Roy) all collect cutesy costumes and collars and leashes. Has the most cutsey giant dog.

The kind of dog that he can trust to take care of kids. If he's particularly concerned about a kid out on the street he can drop the dog off to stand guard until the kid's parent shows up. The dog is real gentle with the lil human, but scares off potential kidnappers.

Cass

The first of our exotics keepers! I feel like Cass would really appreciate betta fish. The way the swim and flit through the water, fins seeming to dance as they moved.... like tulle, like dancing.

She probably has several tanks. The first one she got was from Petsmart or PetCo or whatever. It irked her because she knows they don't tend to treat the fish well, but the local petshop's fish were all extremely sickly looking. After that she's hooked, for lack of a better word, and Bruce ends up learning way more than he ever needed to learn about importing fish (and paying for imported fish).

She's meticulous about their care. They've all got nice big clean tanks, and a companion to help keep them clean (different ones according to temperaments, snails for the easier going ones and shrimp for the more aggressive boys). They've got live plants and decorations to hide under, each tank a different theme to show off the fish. Has lowkey been considering getting a female for one of her favorite easy going boys (the first one, who has become a very soothing companion) because he's getting older and she'd like to be able to carry a part of him on.

Tim

His companion is an emotional support animal, with papers from his doctor and everything. Seems like he should be a dog person, but instead has a very big Turkish Angora. Her name is Mrs. Tuffles and he got her from a breed-specific rescue.

She's good for him because she disrupts his work and also helps provide a soothing presence when he has a panic attack. At night if he isn't in bed at a certain time she lays on top of whatever he's working on. If he's panicking she lays on his lap or chest and purrs (the added weight, the feeling and sounds of the purrs, held disrupt tension). She's a cuddly cat, and it tricks him into sleeping in in the mornings.

When he finds out that cats purr on a wavelength that encourages healing, and that there's evidence that they sit on humans and purr in attempts to heal/help them, he bursts into tears and startles the cat, who had been draped over his shoulders.

Steph

Got a bunny because she thought it would be an easy pet. She was very very wrong. It was from one of the neighbors in her building, because the mom of the kid who brought it home didn't want it anymore. It's a cute little lop, grey and brown.

She quickly discovers that bunnies are super dirty, and they absolutely stink. It bites her for the first week (and Tim and Jason and everyone else that isn't Damian, who somehow tricks it into loving him) and she seriously considers taking it to the shelter. But she doesn't. By week three, he's snuggling up on her feet and in her lap, and she decides that maybe he isn't so bad after all.

He didn't have a name when she got him, so she call him Mi-Mi. She doesn't tell Damian, but it's totally named after him because he reminds her of the way Damian had been when she'd first met him and the progression of their friendship over time.

Duke

Seems like a bird type of dude. Probably has a Cockatiel or two. They're very sassy birbs, and there's no way he doesn't enjoy that. One of them repeats words, and has picked up swears from Jason. It swears at Bruce every time he comes in Duke's room. Everyone except Bruce finds it funny.

The other one "dances" whenever it hears music coming from Cass's room. They're both very active and curious, he's contantly having to buy toys for them to rip apart. One of them nipped Damian's ear once, and Duke has never seen Damian look more offended in his life. It was probably the first pet that Damian hadn't been able to Disney-Princess.

They've probably got a dumb name pair. Tom and Jerry, Chip and Dale, etc. Personally I think he'd get a kick out of naming them Batman and Robin, just to fuck with Bruce. He probably then teaches the one who talks (Batman) to say dumb things like "I am the night! I work alone!" etc etc.

Damian

Has all the animal companions. Not pets. That makes them beneath him, which probably opposes his fundamental beliefs. This is my reminder to yall that Ra's started out as an eco-terrorist. Putting aside what he is or is not now, I like to believe that Damian was raised with a deep respect for nature and animals, he probably sees humans as just one particularly terrible animal species.

He has a wide array of companions as is. I'm good with them all, although I wish they'd bring back his dragon friend. :( I love the dragon friend.

I think he'd be the type to have axolotls too. They've got an interesting mythological basis and fit into the dragon theme. Plus the short story "The Axolotl" by Cortazar is a fascinating piece of mystical realism and I could see that he'd be intrigued by the species. They're endangered in the wild because of habitat destruction and invasion of foreign species that prey on them, but are easily bred in captivity. So I could see he'd keep at least one breeding pair, with the intent to someday bully Bruce into funding a project to save their natural habitat.

Barbara

Doesn't have her own pets, because she doesn't want the responsibility on top of everything else she does.

But her apartment always has furry/feathered friends in it because she's constantly petsitting for the others when they have to go do hero stuff. She's basically like a step-mom for everyone else's pets. She's learned how to take care of tanks and whatnot as well, mostly for Cass. The axolotls are gross and she refuses to touch those tanks, but the bettas are kinda like cute grumpy old men. She likes to tease Bruce by telling him his grand-fish take after him.

Always has a variety of pet snacks with her. She is determined to be the overall favorite human to all the bat-pets. Competition is fierce between her and Dami, but she has an edge because Robin the Cockatiel seems to prefer her.

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twinkleallnight · 3 years ago

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For the WIP thingy; Drake

Show what you've written 🙈

Here you go... This has been sitting in my WIP since Easter! It belongs to my first series Marshmallow

I have kissed her and reassured her that I am there for her. I will always be. I have hugged her to show this is real and I am here for her. But all I have received is more sobs and tears. She is just clinging to me saying nothing, her tears uncontrollable.

“Hana…” I whisper her name, not to scare her.

She lifts her honey eyes to look at me with sadness. I move my thumb over her tear-stained cheek. She curls her fingers over my thumb and leaves a soft kiss on my palm.

I cup her face, and search in her eyes. “Please say something. Your silence is killing me.”

Tagging few who liked this series and walked with me through it. I am sorry I kept you hanging. But I had a writer's block with this one. Hopefully we get back soon.

@gkittylove99 @mom2000aggie

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kaigashi · 4 years ago

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positivity time! ft. the bun!

shout out to @vulpesse for positivity wednesday! well, honestly i just came up with this but. you know me i do what i want when i want and she honestly is one of the many people who somehow softens me enough to be open with feelings! if you aren’t familiar with league of legends like i am, it doesn’t matter because bun’s ahri? is still showstopping and will fit anything that’s how creative our friend is, aka yours and mine to those who are reading who DO know her too!

i highly recommend you follow bun because she’s one of the most adaptable writers i’ve ever met and i’ve been like all of us, writing for a while! bun i’m pretty sure she has done nothing wrong in her life, the anime psd i have now is actually her gift to me even and she had no reason to do it but that’s just how bun is. we’re making stardew valley stuff and having so much fun! she’s one of the sweetest people in the world that i’ve met being on this often crazy planet, and a friend i’m proud to have.

please give her a follow and you’ll see she’s nothing BUT sweet, kind, generous and unselfish and soft yet firm like...a fierce marshmallow? i met her last year and i plan to stick with her, and i hope you will be inspired to be her friend or mutual yourself. please follow bun. she’s been working so hard and she still gives so much love to the rpc despite that, treating everyone as they should be and doing right for people. i honestly just want to protect her from anything that doesn’t make her smile and i know her mutuals feel that way too!

if i feel thankful about something i should just go and do it right? so i’m thankful for bun, just as i am for this community i’m in! bun-bun, we love you!

#✧ ... ☀ the glow of dawn promising morning. &. OOC.#vulpesse

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birdymuses · 3 years ago

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🌹 + Ghost Boy Hanako

Send me 🌹 + a character you think you might be interested in shipping with and I’ll go off about what I think that character is like in relationships

[ So in order to talk about Ghost Boy Hanako in more of a vacuum I'm gonna stray mostly into the territory of Alive Boy Amane and what kind of partner he might have been were he allowed to mature into an adult, but it’s worth mentioning that these traits are present in my portrayal of Forever 13 and Frustrated Hanako, they’re just expressed through a more constrained lens. Tsukasa will also come up because I consider the way they relate to one another as foundational in the way they both understand relationships in general. Cut for long af, sorry but I DID promise I would go ham if anybody sent one. ]

SO. Ghost bf lore. Having anything beyond a superficial relationship with Hanako is immediately fraught with obstacles because any iteration of him is extremely guarded to begin with. The version of events where he's dead and full of self loathing for it is probably the most hard mode you can get in terms of having a relationship with him. Dead Boy Hanako is particularly averse to relationships with the living because he views himself as antithetical to the living and largely A Problem for them. Also like, it's hard to let other people look out for him when he sees himself as irredeemable.

That said, any courting you're going to get from him at first is largely what we've seen in canon. A lot of teasing, a lot of plausible deniability. Hanako is not forthcoming with his feelings even when he’s acknowledged them and let them grow to enormous volumes in private. If they come out at all, they will come out in ways that are easy to cover up.

Hanako tends to be very all or nothing in his relationships, particularly ones that involve a lot of emotional honesty. Either you never pass beyond acquaintanceship with him or you plunge directly to the bottom of his hearts deepest pit where the sea of his affections could easily drown you. He doesn't always make it clear up front when you've plunged from one extreme to the other, but it will show in his behavior if you speak the language of subtlety and know where to look. This all or nothing attachment style is not always ideal but it's eerily similar to how he and Tsukasa work as a unit-- so swallowed up in their own secret world that it's easy to feel like nobody else matters matters outside of it.

Being that Hanako and Tsukasa share the same formative codependence, both of them tend to share similar struggles in their relationships with others in my view. I mean assuming we reset them to factory settings and neither is too horrifically deranged. Since it’s so easy for them to be consumed by a singular relationship, the two of them need friends and partners who can broaden their social interests even if it means prying those narrow sights open by force. Without any outside influence, the two of them are like cats. They're either in your face rubbing all over you or they're always out of touching distance with hardly any in between. Hanako in particular is not terribly comfortable being pursued if he senses that it's becoming less play and more serious, so in most cases you're better off holding off with your courting and letting him stew until he feels ready to come to you. Whether his attachment style is helpful or harmful to the broader relationship depends largely on the participants and circumstances of the relationship.

Hanako can be very cagey and jealous in relationships where he does not feel secure and he can become cold/moody/vindictive in the face of issues that he sees no clear solution to. This is even more likely if his good faith attempts at solutions backfire. Due to the intensity of his attachments, he is the kind of person who could very easily stay in a relationship too long even when it's obviously not working. Hanako is somebody who falls hard and fast even if he does so rather privately. He either doesn't invest at all or invests so deeply that he has a hard time untangling from somebody else. He would rather fix things than let go. He is a problem solver at heart, and that relentless pursuit often makes him blind to whether or not his efforts are "worth it". If you’re his ex, don’t worry, he’s not over you. Even if he’d never date you again, even if he hates you and never wants to see you again, he is not over the emotional impact of you. That’s just the kind of person he is.

Hanako also has the bad habit of putting lot of extra responsibility on himself, particularly for his partner and their experiences together. If he can’t fix your bad day, he sees it as a personal failing. Hanako is often so absorbed in the process of problem solving that he may mistakenly insert himself into his partner’s problems and become frustrated that he is not effective in that role. More than anything, Hanako is a fucking boomer so it's fairly important to his old fashioned sensibilities that he is effectively “““taking care””” of his partner. It is important to him to feel like he is enough, and he finds it difficult to feel that way even in the best of circumstances. He's the kind of guy who wants to pull your chair out and kiss your fingertips and pontificate about how he'll fight anybody who looks at you wrong, just say the word. It hasn't occurred to him how much of his understanding of courting has fallen out of fashion and that maybe he could benefit from adjusting his expectations.

In death Hanako runs the risk of feeling a bit insecure for his stature. Often his immense power is a good way to compensate for that, but as a person who bases a lot of his own worth on perceived status and what he can provide, he very much regrets never becoming fully mature and growing into his goofy hands and feet. In any case, alive or dead, Hanako tends to express his care for other people via things like pet names and acts of service. This can be over the top sometimes, enough that partners who are uncomfortable with that sort of thing may feel smothered or put on a pedestal by him even if that's not his intention. Partners who don't enjoy being made the center of attention will need to have a talk with him about the nuances of that feeling, because he's unlikely to put it together on his own. For Hanako, total sincerity is rare, and so it is very easy for him to feel wounded when expressions of affection are rejected in some way or another. He can be kind of a fucking brat about things like that. He does well with partners who know how to gently put him in his place when needed.

Hanako feels love in a way that is thick and bottomless and likely to bubble over if he doesn’t find ways to put it into the world. In death he is combative and athletic, but had he been allowed to live, Amane would have remained largely domestic, bookish, and unobtrusive. For the most part he just wants to quietly be together, enjoying each others company. He’s happy to help with chores, he’s eager to hear about your day, he will literally accept any smidgeon of connection you’re willing to give him because he is almost always starving for more. Hanako is somebody who will keep a polite distance until the day it becomes apparent that he is allowed to touch, and once that happens, he will literally never not be touching. Hanako is very keen to engage in physical forms of intimacy, including all manner of touching, kissing, cuddling, and grooming. As long as he’s in good spirits, these are the most preferred forms of expression. Physicality is important enough in Hanako’s relationships that he would have difficulty adapting to partners who prefer a lot of space most of the time. It's worth mentioning that Hanako expresses this physicality even in canon, clinging to Nene, petting her, kissing her, and combing her hair, and even occasionally being buddy buddy with Kou, but nearly all of this physical behavior is blanketed with a thin veneer of "what no I'm joking, it's a joke, this is a goof, this is not meaningful, don't say anything about it or I'll embarrass you." Ideally he can develop long term relationships where he does not feel the need to minimize or brush off his desire for physical intimacy.

For all his moodiness and inner darkness, Hanako is a profoundly affectionate person when he feels like he can be. He most likely doesn’t have the words for this himself, but what Hanako most needs in a partner is a person who keeps him guessing. He needs to be surprised and delighted by that person at every turn. He needs to be amazed that he can feel safe with that person, and that's when walls can start coming down.

A successful relationship with him involves a certain amount of mischief, to be thick as thieves and share in a type of mutual joy that feels reckless and stolen to somebody like him. A healthy relationship with Hanako requires a level of trust that he rarely permits himself to feel, but sharing in that trust is what allows him to love recklessly and feel safe in sincerity. Even if it’s hard to achieve, that level of connection is something Hanako desperately desires for himself.

The most sincere summary of Hanako that I can plagiarize from writers much more talented than I am, is that he is “sharp where it hurts and soft where it matters”, genuinely a marshmallow of a man at his core. He needs to protect his soft insides with a charred and unapproachable outside. Despite his harsh attitude, Hanako has a very gentle disposition underneath his rough edges, and that is something an accommodating partner can really bring out in him and reap the benefits of if they are so inclined. I think that inner softness is a part of his personality he’s very protective of and secretive about, so he spends most of his time hiding that part of himself under teasing and rude remarks while desperately wishing he could express it in earnest. In an ideal scenario, the friendships and romances he cultivates will allow him to come out of his shell and be an all around kinder person on the surface

OH YEAH he’s also extremely playful, loves to tease, and he secretly hopes his date will wear his shirts + let him touch their hair so jot that down.

#[Headcanon] Hanako #[Meta] Hanako #[Headcanon] Tsukasa

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flooffybits · 4 years ago

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Just a quick little note: This is the surprise I’ve been planning for 2 weeks now and hyping it up by mentioning it a few times. So I hope this isn’t too underwhelming for you😁.

I wanted to stay up and greet you at 12 but I feel like that would be to creepy✌️You don’t have to reply to this or make a response😊 I just want you to know this and maybe keep this at the inbox to read at your special day or for when you need motivation.

Hoping that I don’t creep you out with this. I decided to do an all out for your special day even though I’m just a baby mallow celebrating my cracker’s birthday!💕And after this I think I would stop talking for a while cause I’m getting a little anxious that the others are getting annoyed because I keep submitting again and again, so I’ll lay low for a little while😊

STOP! Read this first ^

Okay, good morning!

First of all, I hope your day goes amazing today, you deserve it!

My official mission that I started was that I would show you my undying appreciation for existing. Though I don’t know your name, or anything at all, from what I’ve observed with you talking to my fellow mallows.

You’re really nice, like I’ve never seen anything as cute as you interacting with us.

Like, you make cute stuff for us and I might be speaking for myself here, but I feel like I don’t do enough to pay you back🥺

You’re one of the Authors that are lined up with the best writers, in my opinion. Though this kind of stuff isn’t recognized by a lot, there are people who don’t really agree to it and I hope you can make it past the hate, if you are getting any.

This line of hobby can be really hard because you don’t want to disappoint your mallows by seeming like your slacking off. When you posted what you were doing it was honestly honorable to see you working so hard, mixing your reality with this fiction world, but you really don’t have to!

You can take all the time off that you want, I think every single one of your mallows agree to this, that you deserve it.

You do so much for us, your W.I.P is so stacked because of the demand but I hope you don’t overwork yourself, we would understand if you need a break to rest, don’t feel obligated to post for us because your a “popular writer” in our eyes.

You do so much for us and I feel like doing a massive celebration for your birthday but I’m quite not sure how to communicate with fellow mallows because of the anon things.

Honestly for my point of view, when I came to tumblr I was hesitant to keep it for long on my phone but when I saw that writers actually existed in here I decided to keep it.

My first few weeks it was a bare desert here, nothing but pictures and gifs. But then a few months a stumbled upon a story of yours. I think my first story that I read was your BP scenarios. I recently came from Wattpad and since that site if getting more complicated I was happy to see that you exist.

The next couple of weeks, I found myself waking up early to read your stuff and I could still remember the mornings that I found myself curling in bed and smiling at the warm feeling I got from reading your stuff.

It made me happy that I could ‘live’ in an imaginative world where my life would happen without any worries or anxiety burdening me.

Then a few weeks after I finished, I decided to anon and respond to what you wanted to know about different groups. A week in I branched out and decided to respond to your random posts and stuff.

During it, I found it fun to actually talk to you, even if it’s anon. Like you take me out of my world with your stories and you make it easier for me to get distracted because you interact with us a lot.

Seeing you happy about posting, updating, and responding to your mallows makes my heart swell because I’ve found yours really genuine and you do really want to make us happy.

Your anon to Author and Author to anon conversations are so soft and I think that the person leading or managing a community radiates their energy to their community and it really shows.

This community is so wholesome and one day, if we do get a chance to talk without any masks that it would be as nice as the community we have now.

I know some are shy, and I can say that I am part of that, we try our best to show our appreciation to our author.

Like, we aren’t really obligated to show you our appreciation and that you would say that reading your stories are enough but showing and telling how much we love and appreciate you is a deeper and more better way to express our appreciation than reading and liking.

I hope you aren’t thinking that you have to force yourself to update, at this point we understand that you have your own life. This blog is somewhere you can be someone that can show your imagination.

Maybe writing this tonight I keep thinking on what would happen if your blog didn’t appear on my recommended. Because my life has been heavy with my family being unreasonably strict, and the stress school has brough me.

Most of my days have been spent interacting with you and reading your stuff, so you have saved me from moping around all day.

Like you make me so happy and successfully pulling me away from the life I have now is the greatest thing that you can do, even if you don’t really do it yourself your works transmit the message well.

Seeing how you constantly ask us if it’s okay for you to change your schedule or plans is really nice of you but still it’s alright for us, as I keep saying throughout this whole letter that you do so much for us and you do what you want and we will respect you all the way!

You’re amazing, talented, and a very good writer in my opinion.

And I know for a fact that some of your mallows, active or not, have been inspired by you to start writing and follow in your footsteps.

I, for one, did start writing because of you.

You are one of the authors that I would keep close to my heart, your stories made me feel something light that I never knew I needed.

You pulled me out of a pit that I struggled in, and I would be forever greatful for that.

“The toughest Lion always leads the pride, but I realized that the fluffiest tiger could lead one too😉”

“The alpha would lead the pack but always remember that the pack would always defend the alpha”

We got you all the way❤️ (Happy birthday, Floof, the crackers for us mallows)

-✏️

Have a very very Happy Birthday! From all of us mallows!💕

oh wow i was not... i wasn't expecting this at all. i didn't really know that this whole blog meant something to at least someone but i greatly appreciate all of this and all of you. when i started writing, it was nothing but a simple hobby to just pass time and do something while I'm not studying. but eventually this turned into a whole lot more with people talking to me about the randomest things and confiding in me about what troubled them. at first i wanted to write, but eventually i wanted to be someone who made an impact so i kept making these stories. but as much as you guys thank me for writing them, i want you all to know that I'm really thankful to all of you too because i wouldn't be a "writer" if it weren't for everyone who reads and reacts to my works. you're all part of how the stories come to life, so it would be nice to give credit where credit is due. i might not be able to reply to everything you've said because I'm still a wee bit groggy but i hope you know that you aren't creepy for doing this nor do you have to lay low because you've been "sending too much" but ultimately that decision is yours marshmallow. nothing about this message has been underwhelming so please don't think that.

thank you for this and for all the support you guys have been giving me. i love you 💕

#✏️ marshmallow #birthday message #might have teared up a bit

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mingkii · 3 years ago

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Fic writers tag game~

Tagged by @sleepylixie and @aliceu!!

1. what fandoms have you written for (but do not currently)?

Seventeen 🏃🏽‍♀️ not that I lost interest in the group, i am still very much a carat, i just lost the motivation to write for them¯\_(ツ)_/¯

2. what fandoms are you currently writing for?

Skz, ateez, and tbz👀

3. How long have you been writing?

Idk exactly, I wrote my first original story when i was in 2nd or 3rd grade and my first fanfiction in 6th grade.

4. On which platform do you post your stories?

I originally posted on wp when i used to write anime fanfiction but then the app was just bleh after a while then i moved to tumblr. I plan on posting on ao3 tho but I'm still working on it.

5. What is your favorite genre to write?

Angst- any kind like, heart break, death, hurt comfort, happy ending. And also historical aus, they are my all time faves.

6. Are you a panster or a planner?

Ah, i am pretty indecisive, so i just go with the flow a lot of times. Planning gives me a lot of stress and it just feels suffocating in a way...tho there is nothing wrong with it, i just prefer to work more freely and just spew whatever comes to mind.

7. One-shot or multi-chapter?

When in reading, I like both, especially when it's like a slow burn. But in writing i could never finish a chaptered fic, like, my time in wattpad, i couldn't finish one book to save my life. Now that i think about it, i have never finished a proper book💀🖐️ maybe in the future I'll make a series/chaptered fic.

8. What is the perfect chapter length in your opinion?

Hmm, in reading, I don't really look at the word count, that depends on the author. And with writing I don't like looking at word counts cause it'll start weighing me down and i'll end up not finishing the fic.

9. What is your longest published story?

The sunwoo fic {unexpected love story} that took me maybe 6hrs to write? Tho i have a collab fic coming up that has an estimate of 4-8k words.

11. Which story did you enjoy writing the most?

Existing fics, hmm, not really(?) I mean i loved writing them, but it isn't enough to say i enjoyed it. Tho i have a fic coming soon, its a love triangle fic with sunric and i enjoy writing it.

12. Favorite request you've written and why?

Idk if it counts but, it's an unpublished work requested {not rlly? Kinda} by my friend, it isn't a kpop fic but a genshin one shot, it's the character diluc and i really enjoyed writing it. It was partly self indulgent honestly. I haven't opened reqs here yet so i don't have an official favorite.

12. Are there reoccurring themes in your stories?

Hmmm, depressing plots??? Angst, basically, whether it be a crack fic, i'll throw in some angst scenes like the typical depressed teen i am💀🖐️/hj

13. Currently number of wips?

Oh....this is, embarrassing uhm— 64 tho almost half of it isn't kpop fics, it's still....yeah. i'll get to them when i can. Some of it is an outline and some are just drabbles for now since most of my ideas are daydreamed ideas.

14. Three things you have noticed about your writing?

1). Typos

2). The amount of fancy words used in each fic gradually multiplies

3). (More of a habit) not proofread

15. A quote you like from a published story?

A feeling in your stomach bubbled as you only watched him laugh. You wondered what his laugh sounded like, or how soft or loud. his voice was. You would do anything in the world to just hear his laugh, just once. {the sound of laughter}

16. A quote from an unpublished story?

it is said that when one half finds it other, there would be an unspoken understanding, a unity, and each other would know no greater joy than this. {two worlds collide}

He always wanted to embrace you in a hug but you've both drifted so far apart from each other. "Hey do you want hot chocolate?" but maybe like the ingredients of making the perfect warm chocolate drink you can both swirl as one like the milk and the chocolate mix. with marshmallow of course, keeping each other warm on a cold winter night. {Winter nights}

17. Space for you to say something to your readers~~

Thank you for reading my garbage😭‼️ and really putting up with me and my unorganized posting schedule, i hope you could interact with more of my stories cause i really do appreciate it a lot, it makes me super happy, knowing people would actually stick around for a few minutes to read my works💞💞💞 i hope you are doing well and are safe during these times, drink plenty of water and have a nice day/night :))

Tagging; anyone that wants to do this!! i have no moots to tagged since all of them have been tagged already aknsjdk

#game on 🎐🦊

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adam-dumortains · 4 years ago

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Something About You - MC x Beckett | Chapter 14

Book/Pairing(s): MC x Beckett

Word Count: 1115 words

Rating: 16+

Summary: A school project puts Adaline and Beckett right back where they started.

Category: Long series

Warnings / Trope: Swearing, angst

Song: Slide Away - Miley Cyrus | Once upon a time it was made for us and woke up one day, it had turned to dust.

————

The previous chapter can be found here.

All previous chapters can be found here.

tags: @choices-ily @queen-kass-the-writer @brightpinkpeppercorn @flyawayboo @danni-whatshername @drakewalkerfantasy @catlady0911 @theclassycandy @desiree-pow @simsvetements @warblerlo @rhymesmenagerie @friedherringclodthing @perfectlyimperfectcrystal @fluffy-marshmallow-heart @symonde @sinclaire-made-me-sin @dodohussain. if you want to be tagged, let me know!

Adaline had spent the weekend in her bedroom, glued to her textbooks as she used studying as a distraction from her bumping into Beckett the Friday before. However, she often found her mind trailing off to Beckett. The way he frowned when he was studying. The way he smirked when he got a question right. The smell of his cologne. His eye roll when he was annoyed. Love sucks, Adaline thought to herself. She spent the rest of the time that wasn’t studying either crying or watching stupid love movies with Tim snoozing beside her.

Tim croaked down Adaline’s ear, waking her up urgently. She groaned as she gently patted Tim, rubbing her eyes to adjust to the faint light coming through her curtains. “Great. Monday.” Usually, she loved Mondays, but she knew that she was going to inevitably see Beckett at some point. She looked at her watch, jumping out of bed when she realised the time. “Shit. I’m gonna be late. She begrudgingly put on a pair of jeans and an oversized jumper - she would try and make an effort tomorrow. Her hand whirled around her hair, repeating a spell that Shreya had taught her that would give her soft, easy curls. She looked at herself in the mirror and shrugged as she grabbed her bag and headed out of the door in a hurry.

“Welcome back, students! I hope you all enjoyed your break and are ready for another year of broadening your mind,” Professor Englund grinned as he looked at the room of students. The room went quiet as Adaline walked into the room.

“I’m sorry, Professor.” Adaline gave a soft smile to Professor Englund.

“It’s okay, Adaline. Just take a seat. Now, where was I? Oh, I also hope you’re ready for another partner project this year. You all provided excellent reports and learning last year in partners. I have decided them for you, so once your report guidance sheet has arrived at you, please stand up and take yourselves to your assigned seats.” A list of papers floated in the air at the movement of Professor Englund’s fingers, floating to each student in the room. Adaline bit her lip as her mind repeated the same sentence:

Not Beckett. Not Beckett. Not Beckett.

A piece of paper landed at her desk. She swallowed the shaky breath that was stuck in her throat as she opened the sheet of paper and looked at the name on the sheet. Beckett Harrington.

“Who’d ya get?” Zeph turned around and whispered to Adaline. Adaline made eyes that gestured towards Beckett’s table. “Damn. Sorry, Adaline. Maybe you can ask Professor Englund to switch.”

“Maybe.” Adaline sighed as she waved goodbye to Zeph and headed towards Beckett’s table. As she pulled the chair out, the silence and awkward tension between the pair was obvious. Adaline plopped onto her chair as Professor Englund approached.

“Ah, Beckett and Adaline! You both presented such a fantastic report last year that I couldn’t wait to put you both together again and have your brilliant minds together again. I’m excited to see what you both come up with.” Professor Englund smiled, his smile faltering as he noticed the awkwardness between Beckett and Adaline and took it has his cue to leave.

Adaline opened her book from the non-attuned world that Atlas had got her, smiling to herself as she read the handwritten note on the front page of the book. 'You won’t shut up about some Fitzgerald dude after reading that Great Gatsby book over the holiday, so here’s the book. Now leave me alone. Nerd.' Adaline laughed to herself slightly as she looked at a few pages, her eyes stopping on a sentence.

“Hard to sit here and be close to you, and not kiss you." You’ve got that right, Fitzgerald.

The class went by rather fast, to Adaline’s delight, however, that delight ended when she remembered she was going to have to meet with Beckett at some point to talk about the report. After dinner, Adaline headed to the library with her notepad in hand. She forced herself to bring as little as possible so she would be forced to be there for as little time as possible. She walked to the back of the library, her eyes landing on Beckett in his usual seat. She swallowed the small lump forming in her throat as she watched him and remembered the first time they studied together. The start of their story. And here it was, at the end. Walking over, she pulled the chair out and sat down, refusing to meet Beckett’s eyes.

“Uh, hi,” Beckett said as he looked up at Adaline, slightly disappointed that she was keeping her head down.

“There’s no point in small talk Beckett. I am only here to discuss the project and that’s it.”

“Adaline. I’m sorry.”

“It’s too late for that, Beckett.”

Beckett sighed, as he pushed a piece of paper towards Adaline with a plan written up about what they would each do for the project. For the first time, Adaline met Beckett’s eyes. Their eyes met for a few moments, unable to tear away from each other, before they were interrupted by a voice walking behind Adaline.

“Hey, Adaline! I’ve been looking for you.”

“Oh, hey Ezra! It’s been a while. Excited for Thief training?”

“Totally. Excited to see you kick ass again this season. So, uh, maybe we could go out sometime?” The question caught Adaline off guard, as her eyes quickly darted to Beckett out of habit. She quickly looked away.

Beckett’s jaw clenched as Ezra spoke. He knew that Ezra was flirting with Adaline and the jealousy was bubbling inside him. Even though he had never gotten to make it official with Adaline and had ended things, the thought of another guy’s hands on Adaline’s skin made his jaw clench.

Adaline laughed gently, “Maybe, Ezra.”

“That’s not a no.”

“Nope, but it’s also not a yes.” Adaline laughed, shaking her head as Ezra pushed her shoulder playfully. “See you at training.”

Ezra winked at Adaline before flashing a confident grin at Adaline as she walked away. Once he had walked away, Adaline felt Beckett’s eyes on her. She turned to face him and could tell by looking at his face that he was jealous.

“What?” Adaline asked as she looked at Beckett.

“Nothing.”

“For the record, I’m not entirely interested in him. But that’s none of your concern anymore.” Adaline said through slightly gritted teeth as she grabbed her book to shove into her bag. “I’ll do my part of the project in my room.”

As Adaline walked off, Beckett sighed and shoved his head into his hands. He had severely fucked up.

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daydreamindollie · 5 years ago

Text

j.ww | soft hearted

Pairing: j.wonwoo x f.reader

Length: 13k

Genre: soulmate!au (kinda) ; university!au ; strangers2lovers ; domestic violence

Summary: You were a sweet girl looking for love and protection, he was a stoic man avoiding love at all costs. It's only fitting that the two of you cross paths.

A/N: I really don't know how to feel about this fic or this alternate universe I came up with. I haven't planned everything out so that's why the roles of the hearts aren't as well described here or as influential to the plot as I want them to be but I'll be sure to establish the ordinance of this universe as soon as I can. I'm sorry if the plot seems rushed or fast-paced at all throughout this oneshot, I kept replanning, redrafting and rewriting it but, unfortunately, this is the version I am most satisfied with. I might edit this in the future but that all depends on how much time I have to spare because this took me ages! Oh my goodness! I hope it's a good read for you though! And, hopefully, the next member's story won't take as long as Wonwoo's

In a universe where people carry around their hearts, with some wearing them on their sleeves and others tucking them into the breast pocket of their blazers and out of people’s sight, Wonwoo appeared to be the only one adamant at keeping his at home and off his person when moving about. It wasn’t as though he was embarrassed by his heart or anything, it’s just that, carrying around his heart like most people usually would, was a heavy burden on him, quite literally. Everyone’s heart had a trait that matched the personality of the person they represented and, although they were all as unique as the person that owned them, they all had a similar trait. They were unbreakable - harder than diamond and more precious than any jewel. Despite this physical resilience to external forces, however, they can be fractured by one thing and one thing only: heartbreak.

Wonwoo’s heart was much like the rest in this quality, however, his heart had undergone a phenomenon he’d prefer to keep to himself rather than alert the cardiologists, who specialised in the field of hand-held hearts. Before his first heartbreak, Wonwoo’s heart was soft, in any way shape or form. Its surface was smooth like the finest silk and it was rather sizeable too, almost reaching farther than his fingertips when held in the center of his palm. Not only that but his heart had the viscosity of fluffy marshmallows. Looking back on the time his heart was of that state was laughable because it directly matched his personality: funny and sweet, soft and malleable to any given situation. Now, however, he was hardly like that and so was his heart.

Heartbreak really changed him as a person and usually, people who suffered through that would go through therapy or counseling with their heartbreaker in order to avoid any desperate change their heart and they, themselves, would make in response to the pain of heartbreak. Sometimes, breaking another person’s heart was punishable as a crime simply because of the adverse effect it can have on an individual, and so, it was always taught to children at a young age that when given the responsibility of another person’s heart, they should handle it with the utmost care. Wonwoo never had the pleasure of going through therapy or counseling for his heartbreak; he merely didn’t want the pity and stigma that came when people found out that he had gone through something like that, and he knows for certain that many people would be alerted of his suffering. If people had ever once been heartbroken in their lives it was put in their medical records as a signpost that their heart was more breakable now than before, he also didn’t want the sympathy of others if he were to enter the heartbreak clinic. He just wanted to avoid all the trivial attention.

And so, Wonwoo left his heart alone, to change and morph into stone. He didn’t know what stone it was but it was still as unbreakable as ever, with the exception of the damage heartbreak had brought - he wouldn’t dare test that out. Alongside the change of his heart, Wonwoo also made a drastic change in personality; now he was mostly silent and stoic, inclined to keep to just himself and his group of friends. He had become as quiet and as still as his heart of stone.

It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, though. Wonwoo saw the change to be good because now, he wasn’t so easily fooled by others and their perfidious promises, he was also able to keep away other people, which only lowered the chances of him ever feeling heartbreak again. The only problem was that his heart, now, weighed so much more than it used to and it wasn’t as if Wonwoo had spaghetti arms either; he had managed to weigh the thing once and it was rounded down to 12.5kg. He already had many books to carry as a literature major so it was only an inessential added weight that Wonwoo had no desire of lugging around every day, so it just had to stay home atop his bedside table.

Despite the heartbreak he had suffered through alone, he was admired and sought out by many girls, who would confront him about their feelings if it weren’t for his reputation - his reputation to coldly reject those that even breathed a word to him about anything concerning love. Many rumors make their way around university campus about him and his chilling demeanor, some suspect that he has no heart, others believe he's experienced heartbreak and some just think it’s who he is as a person. The first was simply ridiculous because everyone has a heart but the last two were fairly accurate in their own right. Wonwoo can’t find it in himself to care, however, because they weren’t ever going to find out, he’s only told his closest friends, who have been sworn to secrecy, and he doesn’t plan on telling anyone else, he hasn’t even told his parents.

The tall, expressionless boy simply goes through lectures breezily before huddling up in the corner of the campus library with his nose stuck in-between the pages of an invigorating book. Reading the words of the many writers he admires, envelopes him with daydreams that project the images being described on the woody pages perfectly. It’s the only time he feels like his old self again when his emotions were as vibrant as the colours and shapes he sees through the metal frames of his circular glasses. Maybe that’s why he was so addicted to books and why he had chosen his major when he, previous to the heartbreak, knew nothing of what he wanted to be when he was older.

In spite of his cold manner, all he genuinely wants to do is comfort others, others that could be going through or had already gone through heartbreak. He knows that he can simply become another therapist and garner the same repercussions but it won’t be the same, it won’t provide the same satisfaction as publishing a book because, at least, that comes with the knowledge that his words of comfort and advice can reach others worldwide. He also doesn’t want to provide the usual therapy that focuses directly on the cause, he’d rather provide comfort subtly and in a more enjoyable way. This can only be achieved through the tellings of a story, is what Wonwoo concluded years ago when he had given his future a truly deep and long thought.

Now, he’s here, surrounded by friends and reaching towards a dream as he bites down on a sandwich, ensuring that the crumbs don’t fall into the book held in his hands. He and his twelve other friends occupied a good stretch of the tables provided at the cafeteria and he had hopes that others would be able to bypass him when glancing over but he was wrong much like how he is always mistaken when thinking optimistically about things.

“Look, he’s right there!”

“Isn’t he handsome? So mysterious and cold. He’s just the guy for me.”

“You better watch out, he’s stone-cold when it comes to love confessions. He’s rejected everyone that’s come his way with the intentions of capturing his heart. It's like he doesn't care about whether he breaks someone's heart or not,”

Wonwoo heard a sigh, “And he was so perfect…”

“It’s better to just treat him like art and admire from afar.”

Wonwoo loves following his simple routine and, therefore, has one for everything: for how he should get ready for bed, for what he should do in the morning, for when he should eat his meals, for his university days...the list goes on. Today was another university day for him and both of the lectures he needed to attend today were back-to-back in the early morning, which left him the rest of the day to do with what he wanted. These days were his favourite because after getting work done in the morning he didn’t feel as guilty for spending most of the day he had left in the library and drowning in the river of words in the abundance of books that surrounded him provided.

For most of the day, his routine was the same; he had attended both of his lectures and had eaten his lunch at his preferred cafe, situated right beside the campus library, which was his final destination for the time being. The moment the tall young man had entered the library, however, he was having to spend an extended minute beside the front desk, attempting to process the fact that the elderly lady that used to sit at the desk was no longer there and was now replaced by a wrinkle-free face that adorned the cutest button nose and most innocuous sparkling doe eyes he had ever seen.

“Good afternoon, sir,” you chirp happily up at the stoic man towering over you. He was very handsome, with a slim face and proportionate body, he also adorned cute circular-framed glasses that you weren’t a big fan of but appreciated that they looked good on him. The only thing that put you off of his appearance was that he was absolutely expressionless and when you saw that he wasn’t going to greet you back, your heart sank into your stomach, causing the one in your pocket to become heavy, almost pushing you to tilt down with it. You were able to resist, however, as the male curtly nodded and hurried away, behind a shelving unit of dense books. In doing this, the weight of your heart became light again and the pout that itched to trace your lips was now gone.

Brushing the swift and minorly callous greeting to the back of your mind, you continued on with what your job required. You still had a few minutes left until you had to switch places with someone else and take over their job of restocking the books into their original places. It was a job nobody tended to enjoy but you were eager to get started; it was a new experience and you’d much rather be accompanied by books than other people right now, especially because of that daunting, earlier exchange. Yup, you definitely couldn’t wait to immerse yourself with books that needed stacking.

Many minutes drawled by and your colleague came back, flashing you a smirk as you switched places, it was if they were wishing you good luck with the task. It was a silent wish you felt as though you didn’t need at first but now that you were wheeling around piles of books in a cart twice your size, you were beginning to understand why people had a deep dislike for this duty. You were also left with the pile of books that needed to be stacked in the far corner of the large library. It was an exciting place to explore but not when you were having to sweat buckets just from pushing the cart of books around.

When you finally reached the area that required the majority of books you needed to replace onto their shelves, you wiped at the sweat on your brow before huffing a sigh and beginning to hum to yourself. Humming, was your own way of giving yourself therapy. It was never for serious things, just for when you needed to calm down or needed your mind to be brought elsewhere to distract you from things you didn’t want to confront. It was your own commiseration for when there wasn’t anyone around you to lean on.

You were just minding your own business, getting on with work that needed to get done for pay and didn’t realise the pair of eyes lingering on your figure from the little nook tucked away in a secluded part of the library that hardly anyone noticed. It was a quaint quarter that had the books not many people tended to take out and so it was the perfect place for Wonwoo to set himself up in for an entire afternoon and evening of reading. Of course, there was the occasional person that needed a book from that area but they never stayed long and hardly noticed the tucked-away alcove Wonwoo always occupied. It was a little corner wedged with an antique armchair and a small table with which sat a desk lamp. It was perfect for Wonwoo to read in peace. It also seemed to be a perfect place to watch others - especially cute librarians - move through the tall shelving units.

Earlier, when you had greeted him, Wonwoo was too shocked and afraid to greet you back, he regrets it now but he hopes that one day, the two of you could become acquaintances, at the very least. Deep inside him, however, he yearned for something more. The reason being that he usually hated it when others made any noise around him as he wanted to read in only the company of silence, making any form of noise the antithesis of that. However, he seemed to like your humming; it wasn’t disturbing or distracting at all, in fact, it just added to the relaxed atmosphere he found much delight in. He hadn't a clue why he suddenly had the urge to feel close to you and it was fairly incongruous but he paid no mind to it at that moment.

When you were tucked into the front desk and seated, Wonwoo wasn’t given the opportunity to survey how cute your outfit was. You looked really adorable. The main palette of colour you were draped in were nudes and browns, your pleated skirt was a sweet, walnut brown that you had tucked your maple jumper into. If you weren’t charming already, the white-collar peeking out from underneath your jumper made him feel warm in the chest as he continued staring as you stacked books in your heeled boots, still unable to fully reach the highest shelf with the elevation they gave you. It was definitely an aesthetic that he found attractive, especially on you. This was a peculiar thought because he’s only met you today and he hasn’t even said a word to you yet.

It’s dangerous for him to be feeling this way. After his first and last heartbreak, hasn’t he already learned his lesson about falling in love? It can never end well.

Lost in thought from the conflicts of how strangely attractive you are to him but also how he needs to stop thinking about you or else he’ll find himself in the same situation he was in years ago, Wonwoo briskly loses touch with the happenings around him. Without realising, the tall male continues staring at you as the dispute in his mind goes back and forth long enough for you to turn around to the next shelf and register that the tall, handsome man who had basically ignored your greeting at the desk, was staring at you.

In his hands, you see a worn, hardcover book with aged pages and you instantly flush in embarrassment and shame. You probably disturbed his reading with your humming and by the stern stoic look he’s focusing intensely on you, it appears as though he’s eager to warn you of the disturbance you were making. Not wanting to perturb him further, you tuck your chin into your neck and get on with your work, no longer humming your supposedly disquieting tune.

It takes several moments for Wonwoo to register the fact that you had stopped humming and couldn’t help the small frown that weighs his lips down. The sudden silence is probably his fault too, his heart of stone keeps his face stripped of most emotions so that, even if he were to feel an overwhelming sense of happiness, only a small smile would appear on his face, so subtle that hardly anyone would notice. He doesn’t want to further plague your work so Wonwoo tries to get back into reading his beloved book once more if it weren’t for the slight groan that catches his attention.

Upon looking up, he catches sight of your struggle. The height of the tall shelving units are giant compared to you and your heeled boots, it was an endearing sight to see you attempt at reaching high enough to stack the highest shelf but the weak whimper that escaped your mouth had his chest tightening and before he knew it, he was on his feet and walking your way.

Hearing the slow footsteps getting louder from behind you, you tried to ignore the creeping feeling that swamped your stomach but when a shadow engulfs your own you’re quick to swivel on your feet and lightly bump your nose against a hard chest.

“Let me do that for you…” at the sound of his voice, you almost melt into a puddle of goo on the floor but even though your knees are quaking uncontrollably, you’re somehow able to hold yourself up. You wait with bated breath as you hear him slot the book back into its rightful place on the shelf, “If you need any help with any more books, just ask…” you remained motionless as he stepped back and made the move to return to his little quiet corner for reading but he shocks you again by meeting your eyes and making you flush even more, “I really like your humming; don’t feel like you have to stop because of me.”

Despite his comment, it takes you a few moments to finally start humming again but, this time, you’re more than willing to persist with your own devised tune.

One thing Wonwoo hates more than anything is when his special secluded spot at the library gets stolen by some rowdy freshmen who have yet to experience the reality of work eventually catching up to them if they don’t stay on top of it. It’s the only time his quiet hideaway becomes a social corner. This is supposed to be a library, meant for studying and delving into the fabricated worlds of writers old and new, not a place for social gatherings that disturb the peace and magic in the air. However, it seems as though ever since he had helped you that day, his area has been left spec and span, clean of dust as well as the disturbance that always used to irritate his nerves. The window was finally cracked open to let in a breeze of fresh air so that it didn’t get too stuffy and were cleaned so that the rays of sunlight came in with no disturbance at all. After discerning the fact, he has had a very peaceful week and was kept in good spirits, so much so that he’s always been greeting you at the front desk with, no longer a nod, but a timid wave that always came across as blithe despite his awkwardness at first, and a charming smile.

It would be a lie to say that your chest suddenly felt lighter every time he flashed that pearly-white smile of his your way. The feeling was fluttering and sweet but in the pit of your stomach, there was a sour emotion of guilt that slowly weighed down that light sensation and had you averting your eyes as quickly as you’ve been able to meet his. The foul emotion never seems to reach Wonwoo and he only assumes the quick averting of your gaze as your simple lack of courage, which only forms a swell of fondness for you in his chest. Again, this was a dangerous sign for him but, just like before, he’s rendered helpless as he watches you go about your business, re-stacking shelves and looking absolutely adorable as you do so. Knowing full well of his growing endearment for you, someone he’s hardly interacted with for more than a week or so, he does his best to ensure that keeps you at a good distance away. However, this still doesn’t stop his friendly yet distant greetings of smiles and waves of the hand that have your knees weakening but your stomach churning unpleasantly.

Your stomach is heavy but your chest is light and you feel warm, you know that you shouldn’t wander further into the background of the charming stranger that always smiles your way and never forgets to wave at you whenever you find your eyes locking with his pools of chocolate brown. Sinking your teeth into your bland lunch of old take-out food from yesterday night, you mumble your most burning question across to your colleague, who sits at the other side of the room with one leg crossed over the other. She files down her long nails, a perfectly good looking lunch beside her going cold from her ignorance. She’s the pretty perfect picture of a ‘popular’ girl on campus that’s only doing extra work for the credits and points, which is the only reason why she can be found working in the library. Her and her rowdy bunch of friends usually occupied the charming man’s quiet corner some days of the week and, for you to drive them out, you had to do some bargaining, which landed you with extra chores around the library, hence why you’re hardly able to stop and converse with the handsome stranger Wonwoo. It's not that you even had the pluck to do so in the first place, but you’ve always been willing to sit and watch him read more verbose art with his long fingers turning the pages as his strong palms supported the thickset spine of the book.

“What was that?” your colleague calls as you take a moment to chew and swallow your food before repeating your question. It didn’t matter that you had finished eating because your voice was still weak and hardly reached her, causing her to upturn a drawn-in brow.

“W-Wonwoo…” was the only word she was able to make out but that was all she needed to be rushing over, a smile glowing up her once miserable expression as she plopped herself down beside you, ready to flood out endless rivers of words about the boy. You were quite shocked actually, you didn’t know his name could spark such a reaction.

“Jeon Wonwoo? The handsome bookworm that always seems to visit this library even though I’ve hardly had a glance of him despite working here?” she gushes, all in one breath, as you nod with a look of shock largely evident on your face, which she seems to ignore in her excitement to talk about such a ‘juicy, hot’ topic - as she would describe it.

“Isn’t he super handsome?” she manages to whine but squeal in delight all at the same time, continuing without even giving you the chance to answer her rhetorical question, “He’s so silent and mysterious,” she continues to praise before lowering her voice and leaning closer to you, as if he was about to tell you a secret, “many girls in his literature class have at least had a small crush on him but, apparently, all the people that have confessed to him - some were even guys, mind you - he has rejected very coldly.” she leans back with a shrug of her shoulders, “I’m sure it’s his way of warning all others that he won’t be interested in anyone at this university, but people are more stubborn than that. He should know, I mean, he does literature, I’m sure he’s read ‘Romeo and Juliet’ and about how stubborn those two were,” you can only nod along as you took in all the information she was feeding you, information that you didn’t need. You wanted to know him as a person, not about how handsome he is because you already knew that from the multiple glances you’ve spared in his direction. Also, even without her gossip, you can conclude that you already know more than her about him.

He appears to come by only during the later afternoons, hence why she’s hardly seen him because she leaves a little while after midday as she knows you’ll be covering the rest of her work. Also, he only seems to read for an hour or two before leaving. He only reads and that’s it, he doesn’t study so he probably has another space for that, either that or he’s just really smart and he doesn’t need to put as much work in as other students. It’s unfair that he’s already so fanciable atop being incredibly astute.

As your colleague continues to babble on about god knows what, you slowly start to feel yourself smiling at the possibility of getting to know him if you had the time and geeking over books together but when you bitterly remind yourself that you already had someone, that sourness overcomes your tastebuds again and makes your grimace softly. It’s a pang of reasonable guilt but is misplaced specifically for how your current relationship is right now. It’s a rocky path, full of obstacles that trip you up along the way, leaving bruises and sometimes even cuts that aren't even given sufficient time to ameliorate into scars.

The relationship you have is physical and abusive. It isn’t the fairytale love story that you’ve always dreamed of, it’s not comfortable or sweet or loving in any way. In fact, it’s the exact opposite. You know you should leave him but you’re always hesitant to because, strangely enough, your boyfriend, no matter how abusive, can give you the sense of comfort no one else can. He's able to provide you with reassurance and confidence about yourself that you had developed surrounding him. It’s so perilous for you to believe that if you were to leave him, you will crumble down to the extremely shy and incredibly unattractive girl that you used to be before he came into your life. He has manipulated and twisted your mind so much that although you know you’re better off without him, you can’t leave him because you believe he’s essential to have in your life in order to keep yourself together.

He’s the only person that has ever taken the time to love and cherish you for who you are and, despite the relationship turning sour, you always find a reason - an excuse - to continue staying by his side and turn away from strangers that could help you, even strangers as friendly and comforting as Wonwoo.

It was a Wednesday and you were a little late in setting up the little corner area for Wonwoo but you were determined to get the place clean and comfortable for him to be able to truly relish in the words of most recent ‘must-read’. Almost every few seconds, you would look at the time on your phone and rush your self to hurry before he catches you preparing the place for him. It would be so embarrassing if he finds out that you were going through such lengths for him despite hardly even knowing him but, he’s been so kind to you, kinder than the person who's supposed to be cherishing you like the most precious jewel there has ever been. You suppose your warm heart has gotten warm for him similar to the way it once did for your boyfriend. You still loved your boyfriend though, Wonwoo was just a kind stranger that you want to become friends with despite the controlling hand your boyfriend has been having on your social life.

Just as you were finishing up with wiping down the small side table, you suddenly felt a presence behind you before a tap on your shoulder directed your attention to the handsome face of the stranger you had been frenetically setting up the area for.

“So it’s been you,” he speaks softly, his charming smile making your chest squeeze as you sensed your heartwarming up in your breast pocket.

“Wh-wha-?” you stutter, embarrassed that you’ve been caught but also confounded at the grandeur appeal of his smile.

“You’ve been the one that’s kept other people away from my area and cleaning up any messes you might have missed,” he gives you a nod of thanks before delivering his gratitude in words, “I really appreciate that, thank you.”

“I-It’s alright,” you squeak, face still predominant with a reddish hue, “I just wanted to thank you for helping me out the first time we met,” your admittance only has Wonwoo furrowing his brows and feeling the weight of guilt sink his stomach. It was only one time and it wasn’t that much of a grandiose gesture either. This makes him think of if you’re always this grateful for every little thing, for every kind gesticulation done for you, would you repay someone as if they've saved your life? It’s an endearing attribute but he worries that some people could have taken advantage of that.

“Why don’t I help you with the shelf stacking?” he offers, not even waiting to hear for your response as he walks over to your tray and begins stacking the books.

Gasping, you quickly hurry to his side and try to push him back to his little nook, your small soft hands splayed across his chest as you look up to him with your wondrous doe eyes. He thinks it's adorable how you think he’s going to stop when you look all the more fragile and in greater need of his help at that moment. Your action of prevention has only led to the sealing of his resolution in helping you regardless.

"Please don't trouble yourself. I don't want to get in the way of your time spent reading,"

“It’s alright, I really don’t mind. I mean, you’ve been doing this for me for a while, right?” you don’t respond and remain speechless because you know how horribly you lie and people can just see right through your little act, “I’d feel guilty if I didn’t do this for you, at least. Please let me help you?” he beseeches softly and although you’re tempted to give in, you keep your mouth stubbornly shut, “If it makes you feel better, I’ll only do the ones that you can’t reach and you can do the rest, yeah?”

He doesn’t know why he’s so willing to help you but when he sees you give a hesitant nod, your eyes sparkling with the conflicting emotions of gratitude and worry, he knows why. You look so delicate and frail that his stone heart can’t help but want to protect you from all evil things in the world. Not only that but he greatly admires your kindness, to him, it’s so attractive and charming for a girl to act selflessly and be genuinely compassionate for those around them. To him, those types of people are the most precious because they wouldn’t have the heart to break another's. Taking in a deep breath, he looks away from you in an attempt to keep his mind and heart from wandering too far into the charmingly mysterious being that is you. Although he can sense that you’re the type of person who couldn’t hurt a fly, he still remained guarded.

Wonwoo can’t believe that he has only known you for a short period of time, and yet, he’s talking to you more than he is with his usual gaggle of friends. He mentally argues that this case is different, however, because of the fact that his friends are more talkative than him, which usually leads him to keep silent as the rest of them continue with their conversations. On occasion, he would voice his views, of course, but it wouldn't be often. His friends didn't mind this and he was appreciative of that. You were a different affair because whatever you had to say was something he either had an opinion on or was relatively interested it. In addition to that, it was only ever a conversation between you two; talking like that always required input from both sides at some point. You would also always make sure that he felt included and that you didn't prattle on too much. It was a strange quirk of yours to always ask him a question about every topic brought up between you but he appreciated it none the less. That's probably why he has been able to grow so fond of you. The two of you, he found out whilst stacking shelves and chatting with you, had very similar tastes in books, valued many similar things and had the same humor.

It was comforting to find someone so similar to him and sharing so many things with him but also have that someone be completely different. You were soft and sweet, he was stoic and stern. Based on that alone, he can already tell that you’d be a good equaliser for him. He’s never met someone so perfect yet so fraught with danger for him. There’s this basic need within him wanting to push you away for his benefit and safety but every time he looks your way, in your cute outfit of oversized jumpers and skinny jeans, he is engulfed by that want and needs to wrap you up in his arms where he will have you stay there forever.

“So…” he attempts to start conversation in the midst of stacking the higher shelves for you, “what are you studying?” admittedly, Wonwoo found the sound of his own voice foreign in the preserved silence of the library; he is always inclined to keep to himself and stirs far away from making conversation with others, worried that it would stretch on for a longer period than needed. Surprisingly enough, however, Wonwoo wouldn’t mind if you were to talk decades of knowledge to him in that gentle saccharine voice of yours.

Giggling, you flush red at the prospect that someone so handsome would find enough interest in you to ask you questions about yourself. In an attempt to hide your flustered cheeks, you look towards a lower shelf and re-stack the missing books, failing to catch the bewildered expression of the tall man beside you at the sound of your twinkling laugh. He had never heard anything so melodious.

“I’m studying English Literature and Creative Writing here,” you spoke softly, taking a moment to run your fingers along the delicate spine of an aged hardback before replacing it into the shelf once more.

“You like reading then?”

“Of course!” you gush in a whisper, eyes capturing the sparkle of celestial bodies, an impossible feat but Wonwoo can understand how only you are able to achieve it, “It’s such a great way of escaping the normal world where you can learn to love and hate multiple characters, you learn from their mistakes and achievements and apply what they preach to your own values. I love it,”

Smiling to himself, Wonwoo focuses back on the task he had committed himself to, despite the pull in his chest to continue staring at you, “you took the words right out of my mouth,” surprised at his confession, you stare up at him and catch the smile his pink lips adorned no matter the subtleness of it. Whoever could miss such a charming smile?

Inevitably, the two of you start talking about your favourite books and since your tastes are so similar, you start to gossip about all of your favourite moments hidden in between their creamy pages. You had never experienced something this wonderful before, not even with your current boyfriend. Yes, he used to be a sweetheart but he still didn’t share the same amount of interest you had in books and you had known that, in his eyes, he liked that about you. At the time, it made you feel special and led to your blossoming feelings of affection to him. Unfortunately, those feelings have slowly died away with his gradual change in personality. He’s no longer the same and you wish you could have saved him but by the time you had finally built up the realisation and courage to end his bad habits, it was already too late. There was always the argument of, why don’t you just leave him?

Your heart was still able to warm up at the presence of him as proof of your still evident feelings despite it being not as warm as it used to be in the earliest honeymoon stages of your relationship. There was also the possibility of you breaking his heart in the process and you didn’t want to be responsible for any further negative changes in his lifestyle and mood. It wouldn’t be fair, he was already struggling through his addictions and for you to be so heartless as to leave him for just because you were no longer satisfied and always hurt from his bad habits was extremely selfish. You wanted to stay and help him as much as you can, that’s why you were willing to put your education on pause and drop out of your university course to fully support him by being able to pick up more odd jobs. There’s always a possibility and danger in your mind that he’ll just use the money you earn for his habits but you’re certain that if you just stay by his side, you’ll be able to help him along the path of recovery.

The dreams you have of becoming a famous playwright and poet, much like Shakespear, would just have to wait. Sometimes some things aren’t meant to be but that’s just for the meantime. Things will eventually get better and then you’ll finally be steady enough on your feet to finally pursue your dreams, hopefully, with someone you cherish. Sacrifices have to be made and the thought of getting your loving boyfriend back is the only motivation you need to go through with it.

“So…why are you working in the library? Extra credit?” Wonwoo hums in curiosity, settling back into his armchair after finishing all the top shelves.

“Um…not really…my boyfriend-” there was a tone of insecurity in your voice, forcing you to withhold information from him. He had unknowingly felt a painful ache begin to enclose his heart at the mention of you having a boyfriend but ignored the feeling, wanting to bring you freedom from hardships through articulation. From your streak of talking freely to him, he finds your tight lips bizarre but remains silent so that you’re free to make the decision for yourself. If you chose to continue talking, he’ll listen but never judge you with whatever you have to say, however, if you chose to stay quiet, he won’t press you further and continue reading his book as per usual. After a long pause, your voice finally reaches out to him, this time, however, weaker and more tentative, “I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be,” he instantly reassures, “I’m not going to press you for answers. Just know that if there’s something wrong, even if you don’t tell me what it is, you can come to me at any time for whatever help you might need,”

He didn’t have to offer you his time and consolation but he did anyway and that struck a chord in your heart, making your chest constrict with a fond ache, something you haven’t felt in a very long time with your boyfriend for the past few months.

“Thank you, I really appreciate that,” the two of you smile at each other for a minute or two, never really needing to voice anything more. You were happy.

It has always been routine for Wonwoo to spend most of his afternoon and evenings at the library, it was a hobby that he absolutely loved and his friends understood that. However, suspicions slowly began rising when the tall male is making excuses to stay there longer and visit more frequently. The excuses started off reasonable enough; he needed to read up on an assigned book; he had to catch up work; there was an assignment due soon and so on. Nevertheless, the ostensible reasonings he made can only be used up to a point and his lies became all the more perceptible; I left my bag there (“but your back is in the corner of the room-”); I forgot to take out this book that I’m suddenly interested in reading (“but you never liked books of that genre”), I don’t spend enough time at the library (“you spend more than enough time there, this is the first time we’ve gotten together and talked this week!”). It was outrageous. So when the boys did a little digging and found out he was making heart eyes at a sweet-looking librarian girl, they left him to himself. They never thought that he’d ever find interest in a girl but they were overjoyed at being proven wrong. In fact, they were so ecstatic that they made up excuses for him to leave and go spend time at the library.

They were happy for him and anxious to meet the librarian that, they knew, he’d eventually reel in and have in his arms. It was only a matter of time.

The topic of hearts was an unavoidable topic to be brought up but Wonwoo was secretly hoping that you’d be one of the people to keep to your own. However, he wasn’t surprised that, when you got extra time to sit around and talk to him, you elucidated inquisitiveness in his heart. You were asking gentle questions, not openly pronouncing a want to see or touch his heart but he knew that you secretly wanted to do those things; everyone wanted to know about everyone else’s heart, especially if they’re the ones that bring about the topic first.

“What’s your heart like?” you habitually tilt your head, as if you don’t know the effect it has on his poor soul, “I want to know,” he fails to keep the hesitance from showing on his face, which you instantly try to remedy, “I’ll show you and let you hold my heart now if you promise to show me and let me hold yours in return one day,” it seemed like a fair deal, you weren’t giving him a time limit and he was getting something similar in return. He had a lot of freedom in this covenant. Although he was having second thoughts, his head was already confirming the agreement for him.

Your smile instantly brightens as you go to reach your hand into your pocket and quickly present your heart to him, cradled in your cupped palms. The heart in your hands was clear and glass-like, it had a geometric look about it. Despite the visibly sharp vertices being rounded off smoothly, they were still prominent, which brought forth fear of being cut.

“Give me your hand…” you softly urge, pulling him into a trance that had his hands reaching out in the same cradled shape like yours. It was an intimate act -allowing someone to hold your heart. The only other person that had held your heart was your boyfriend. He had dropped it many times before from being too careless with it. It made you wince when it was dropped each time but you know can trust Wonwoo, despite only knowing him for several weeks. It was strange but you accepted it because you know he's the time of person that would never intentionally hurt another, unlike your current boyfriend.

“It’s warm…” his deep voice awes as he stares down at your heart, making you blush at the amount of attention and care he’s giving it, “It’s soft too…” he takes a moment to think of how to further describe it, “it's like its made of silk even though it looks like it’s made of glass,” he smiles up at you, only further deepening the pink hue of your blush as you look towards your feet to avoid his fond gaze. This is bad. If you continue catching feelings for Wonwoo, you’ll feel like a worse person than your current boyfriend. Is this cheating? You’re sure you’re allowed to talk to other guys when still in a relationship. “You have a really warm heart,”

“Thank you,” you blurt in a panic, not knowing how to react as he chuckles deeply, making your chest squeeze in the most pleasant way.

You were lost in each other's eyes, subconsciously leaning into one another as you held your heart together. The moment was perfect. You would've liked to treasure and keep it as a pretty picture in your head if it weren't for the rotten aftertaste it left in your mouth. Kangdae, the man you had once thought and wished you would spend the rest of your life with, had witnessed the loving exchange, he was expeditiously seeing red.

He had been suspicious of your dubious buoyant attitude whenever you would come home from or get ready to go to the university campus library for work. It had been happening for a few weeks and it had driven him mad with curiosity. In order to satisfy his inquisition, he resolved to espionage on your work shift. Now, he was driven mad with resentment and indignation.

It didn't take long for Kangdae to reach you with his long strides and pull you harshly away from Wonwoo. In his tight grip, he squeezes your rapidly chilling heart as the grasp he has encircling your wrist constricts to the point where you fear that the circulation of blood to your hand is cut off.

"I'm sorry that my girlfriend," Kangdae growls at you behind clenched teeth as you cower helplessly, "has been bothering you. I'll be taking her home early today," terror precipitately clouds over your wide, doe-like eyes. And, as you are dragged away, you flash Wonwoo a look of absolute, unadulterated trepidation. He becomes frozen in time where fear for your wellbeing consumes his tall figure. Although he wanted to help, it wasn't in his place to speak up for you as he's probably the reason why your lover has reacted with such antagonism. He takes a step forward but finds you are already gone and no matter how hard he tries, he cannot think of anything other than your horror-stricken face. Your sweet, innocent complexion doesn't suit such an emotion, which only emphasises how wrong and sour the situation is for you.

The horrible, pulsing sting of your black eye persists until the next day where you dread about the thought of going to work at the library once again. Luckily, Kangdae had his own 'errands' to run for, which you're pretty sure will just be indulging in his own self-destructive habits. He's horrible. How could he do this to you? But, then again, you're possibly just as horrible as him by helping feed his habits as you were the one working to earn money for him to spend. Never before has he hit you but you try to reason that you were deserving of it, seeing as you were bordering on cheating on him in his eyes.

Leaning back and staring at yourself in the mirror, you wince at the crack your back gives from being bent over for so long, trying to cover up your black eye with foundation. You suppose it'll have to do, hopefully, Wonwoo doesn't take notice; you wince just thinking about the possibility. If you were to avoid the confrontation you're anxious to encounter with Wonwoo today then you'll just have to avoid him as much as possible.

And avoid him, you did, as if he were the plague.

The distance you were adamant in maintaining between you left Wonwoo befuddled more than he has ever been in his life. However, he's able to draw straight parallels between your bizarre distance and the sour mood your boyfriend was in the day before. Not wanting to worsen the situation any further, Wonwoo leaves you be in spite of the great amount of disinclination he felt in doing so.

It's surprising how he's been able to keep to himself for the better part of his time at the library, seeing as he's grown a habit of seeking you out just to hold a conversation. However, he shouldn't applaud himself too much as he was still finding it very difficult to concentrate on the book in his hands as his eyes would always wander to wherever he heard your dainty steps every few minutes. It was as if he was willing to convince himself that you were still there and safe.

Eventually, you ambivalently wheel your cart of books to Wonwoo's section, assuring yourself that he was engrossed in his book before going about your business and proceeding to stretch up high just to reach for the top shelf. Your grunts of evident struggle alert the tall male immediately and not a second passes before he's on his feet and making his way towards you in long strides. Yes, he aimed to keep away from you, waiting for you to go to him at your own time - a better time - when your boyfriend wasn't keeping such a close eye on you. However, it was now a habit for him to help you stack the higher shelves, should there be any to stack in exchange for keeping his little nook clear of clutter and annoying younger years. It actually came as a surprise to him when he had gotten to his secluded corner and found that you had still kept it clean and void of any loud company for him. Therefore, he still owes you his helping hand.

In shock at the sudden hand that gently takes the book from you and places it onto the highest shelf, you quickly turn and lock eyes with Wonwoo, whose own widens at the underlying purple hue of your right eye.

"What happened to you?" his voice was filled with concern and shock. Certainly, your boyfriend wouldn't be this type of guy. He pegged him to only have a jealousy issue but this made him lower than dirt and the scum of the earth.

"I-...I had a little accident,"

"And avoiding my eyes definitely means you're telling me the truth," you spare him a glance of guilt before turning away once again, "was he the one that did this to you?" met with silence, hopelessness grips him. The instant he notices your shoulders starting to shake, he places a comforting hand on your shoulder as a gesture of comfort but brings you into his arms when it does nothing back make your palpitations worse, "please tell me so I can help you, (Y/N)," his actions shock him but he really shouldn't be, seeing as you've always been able to bring about things about him he's usually unable to express. He never knew whether it was a good or bad thing but over time, he's been able to consider it as yet another wonderful thing about you.

"H-he's never hit me like this before, it's always b-been just verbal fights b-between us..." you sob in a vulnerable and broken voice, "I-I'm sure he didn't m-mean it, Wonwoo"

"That should never happen," his timbre holds a dangerous note of protectiveness and repulsion. How disgusted can your boyfriend be that he should ever even think of raising his hand at you? "There's never a good enough excuse for a man to ever lay a hand on his lady. Take me to him so that we can have a talk about what he's doing wrong," his eyes were steeled with an intense tenaciousness but you wouldn't allow him to do such a thing.

"No! Please stay away, you could get hurt," Wonwoo tries to protest but you only shake your head 'no', "you're a very dear friend to me, Wonwoo, it would hurt so much more than this black eye if anything were ever to happen to you because of me,"

"It wouldn't be your fault though,"

"But it will be," he can see that you're trembling even more now, like a leaf in the face of bitter autumn winds, so he can't bring himself to argue further and put more stress onto you, "I-I have to go home...I'm sure my shift's already over,"

"(Y/N)," he keeps you gently in place with a caring hand holding your own, "you're shivering uncontrollably and I'm pretty sure it's because of the man you're going home to," you can't dispute the truth, "please come stay at my apartment tonight so that I know you're safe, you can sleep in my bed while I sleep on the sofa,"

There's evident hesitance in your eyes but the more you think about it the more the avidity builds up deep inside you. The thought of going back home, simply to be shouted at again wasn't a welcoming idea, especially after what Kangdae had done to you.

You were having to push your friend away because of him, you were in pain because of him, you dropped out of uni because of him.

Looking into Wonwoo's deep brown, chocolate eyes, you find comfort and worry. It feels so so nice to have someone care and worry about your wellbeing for once that you find yourself nodding in agreement to his proposal.

Wonwoo's home is just what you expected it to be like: clean and organised but homey and comfortable. There wasn't an ever-growing pile of trash bags in the corner, it smelled like him and there was a consistent monochrome aesthetic with splashes of blue in the decor.

"You have a lovely home," you utter softly as soon as he's helped you out of your jacket and you've taken in the humble space.

"Thank you," you see a hint of a blush on his cheeks, "can I get you anything?"

"Just water would be good, thank you," he nods at your request and gestures for you to get comfortable on the sofa before he's out of the room and into the kitchen.

Tensions were high at first but soon enough conversations were flowing smoother than an undisturbed river between you. It just felt so natural to be with him, talk to him, look at him, sit with him, drink with him, laugh with him. You're so glad and grateful that he's there for you; you wouldn't have been able to voice this to anybody else, only him. You don't know why that may be the case but you're quick to start speculating that it may have something to do with you considering him to be more than just a friend...

Shaking your head, you rid the thoughts immediately. Those thoughts shouldn't be there. Wonwoo is just a friend. A really good friend that takes care of you, has beautiful eyes, luscious hair that you want to run your fingers through and such a sweet smile in spite of his cold exterior. He surprises you every day, they're all pleasant surprises just like the time you found out the two of you adore hamburgers and pomegranates. It isn't like the surprises your boyfriend slaps you in the face with; Kangdae's are almost always bad. Sighing, you try not to think about the things that transpired over the past year or two when your relationship consistently reached multiple lows.

"There, everything's ready for you." Wonwoo muses as he walks out of his room, flashing you a kind smile, "I changed the sheets and made sure everything's clean - all that's left to do is for you to have a goodnight's rest,"

"Wonwoo, are you sure that you're okay with having me sleep in your bed? This is your home and I don't want to be even more of a burden to you. Please let me sleep on the sofa instead," you plead with your eyes but he's having none of it. Instead, he is stepping his way towards you with a shake of his head.

"You aren't being a burden. I just want to take care of you since that-" he cuts himself off from insulting Kangdae, not wanting to upset you further by bringing him up, "since your boyfriend isn't looking after you as well as he should be and I think you deserve, at least, that much - it's what everyone deserves..." there's a pause as he reaches his hand up to cup your face and tilt your head up to him, where he stares down at your bruised eye and gently rubs his thumb beneath it.

Sensing his question, you console him with a, "It's feeling much better than earlier, thank you," you muster a small smile that he returns.

"Good but, just to be safe, I've put some painkillers on the bedside table," you nod in appreciation and smile wider.

"Thank you Wonwoo,"

"It's no problem, (Y/N),"

Just as you step towards the bedroom, you quickly realise something, "I-I don't have a change of clothes for the night..." you murmur, "or anything to brush my teeth with..." turning around, you stare up at Wonwoo with your big doe eyes and he has to resist the urge to coddle and coo at you to which he resolves by responding back quickly.

"You can borrow my clothes, it's alright," he leads you to his room and prepares a shirt and shorts for you to wear to bed, "I also keep extra toothbrushes around just in case," as soon as you're set, he leaves you to get ready as he gets ready in the living room.

'How lucky I am to have someone like him standing beside me,' you muse to yourself as you stare at your reflection in the mirror, swamped by his gigantic shirt. In the end, you had decided to forgo the shorts he offered because they just kept slipping and, thankfully, his shirt reached passed your mid-thigh so you were still covered. Although your outfit was cute, you looked really horrible without the makeup covering your black eye. With a sigh, you disregard the negative thoughts and stepped out into the living room to greet Wonwoo 'goodnight'.

Once you've circled the sofa, you realise that Wonwoo had already fallen asleep, his feet were lifted onto the arm of the sofa due to how tall he was and, although you feel bad for the discomfort he may be feeling right now, it's simply too comical of an image to not giggle at. After having a light-hearted chuckle to yourself, you pull the blanket he already has draped over him up to his neckline and over his shoulders before easing a fluffed-up pillow under his head. To your relief, he shows no sign of waking up from the movement.

He's so soft looking. You wish many more people get to see this gentle side of him because it's such a real shame that his beauty isn't shared in this way. His hair looks so soft, his skin is glassy and creamy-smooth, his lips, plump and pink. Absentmindedly, you go to kiss him goodnight. It's a direct line to his lips but you quickly catch yourself and lightly brush your lips against his anyway in defiance of your redirection to peck his cheek.

"Pleasant dreams, Wonwoo..." you whisper softly in your shy, sweet voice before heading off to his bedroom. Unbeknownst to you that as soon as your back is turned, Wonwoo's eyes snap open and his fingers are tracing the stamp of your lips against his cheek. He doesn't have hope in ever falling asleep that night as a blush dusts his countenance and his heart beats a mile per second, grinning like a mad man.

Too hooked up on the kiss you had almost planted onto his lips, Wonwoo abandons all rational and tiptoes into his room, where he finds you sleeping in his bed, right beside the window. You seem to have forgotten to draw the curtains, causing the moonlight to blanket your snoozing figure. You look so gorgeous. Much like sleeping beauty, better even. He can't help but seem to frown at your black eye, however, reaching down to caress your cheek, smiling once again when you lean into his touch and sigh in content. He wants to kiss you so badly and do the job right but his morals just wouldn't let him. From an outsider's perspective, he would be taking advantage of you in your sleep; you still have a boyfriend, albeit a horrible one, but a boyfriend nonetheless and he doesn't want to make the situation worse. If he can keep himself from causing you any more problems then he'd gladly stay clear from you to do so. Not fully though, because you still need someone to look after you and he will gladly fill that role. Nothing more, nothing less. With that, he steps away and goes back to sleep on the sofa.

Morning comes sooner than Wonwoo anticipated but he's not complaining as he's awoken in the best way possible - to the smell of breakfast. He can only assume that it's your doing as you're the only other person in his apartment. The gesture warms his heart, especially when he sees you cooking away in the kitchen, where he almost has a heart attack at the sight of you his oversized shirt. He didn't know anyone could look so good in just a simple T. The scene is very domestic, something he's always craved despite his horrible first love experience. He has never been good at cooking or eat appropriately so he really can't be blamed for falling for you even more.

In his mind, Wonwoo has a debate on whether or not he should alert you of his presence but he decides against it; you look so comfortable cooking breakfast and he doesn't want to interfere with that. It only takes a few minutes, however, before you're turning around and getting the shock of your life. The look on your face and your extremely animated reaction has him laughing aloud with his head thrown back.

"I-I hope you don't mind me cooking for you," you blush softly.

"I really don't mind. I'm actually grateful. I don't know when was the last time I had a warm, homecooked breakfast," he takes a seat at the small table in the corner of his quaint kitchen, his eyes never leaving yours.

"I'm the grateful one," you counter, "because you saved me even though it's not all over yet," with the breakfast plated, you move to the table and sit across from him, "I'll make sure to be out of your hair as soon as possible but thank you so much for this, Wonwoo,"

"No, that's not happening," Wonwoo growls lowly, "I don't want you going back to him where you're unsafe and-"

"Wonwoo..." you place a hand over his to calm him down, which you find that he is surprisingly subservient to your touch because his shoulders almost immediately lose their tension, "let's talk about this after breakfast and just enjoy the food, please?" thankfully he agrees but not after apologising.

Breakfast is short and sweet, quiet but still filled with galvanised murmurs about everything under the sun. Soon enough, you're on your feet again, washing up and clearing the dishes together. However, things quickly get serious when Wonwoo sits you down in the living room with an earnest look on his face.

"Why...why do you think he's like this towards you?"

"He used to be a really good guy and I loved him so much..." you sigh, turning your gaze down at your hands folded on your lap, "but he's easily paranoid that someone else will take me away so he's always protective but he's also developed an alcohol problem and was fired from his job quite some time ago so I work to help support the both of us, meaning that I had to drop out," you feel the tears beginning to surface, "That day was the first time he ever got really violent with me...I just hope he gets better because I know he can be a good person," you look up at Wonwoo with hopelessness in your glossy eyes, "right? He can get better again? I know his old self is still inside him somewhere,"

You don't know why you feel so disappointed when Wonwoo gives you a sympathetic look, "I don't think that'll happen any time soon and I don't mean to hurt your feelings, (Y/N), but I think this will only ever get worse," you choke on a sob as Wonwoo brings you into his chest, petting your hair as your tears soak into the breast of his shirt. It takes several minutes before you calm down enough for him to feel assured that you won't break down further as soon as he starts talking again, "you can’t stay with someone like him, clearly he doesn’t love you enough to care for you the way someone, who deserves you, should,"

"Where will I go Wonwoo?" your voice is desperate as you look up at him with your button nose coloured a soft pink, same with your eyes, "My family lives hours away and because of him, I’ve lost all my friends…I have no one…"

"You have me…" he reassures, "and I’m more than willing to let you stay with me if you want"

"T-that’s really sweet but…what am I going to do about all the stuff I have at his place?" you want to accept the offer but you seem to be coming up with excuses to stay with Kangdae. You don't know why because it's clear that you do deserve better and that, deep down, you should have left the day things started going wrong.

"Let me handle that, my friends and I can go with you to collect your things so that he can’t get close to you. But, just to be on the safe side and so that you’re comfortable, we can do it when you know he’s not going to be there," all you can do is nod, unable to find the words for how grateful you are and how horrible you feel for not doing what was best for you for so long.

"That’s my girl…" Wonwoo's words send your heart fluttering as he gives you a soft squeeze, still in his arms. Him calling you his sounds so nice, "I'm sorry someone like you is having to go through this"

"I’m just so thankful that I have you by my side…I love you Wonwoo," you're shocked at your own words, frozen in place and mouth left agape. After a long pause, you finally muster up to courage to look back at the male before you, who snaps out of his own daze as soon as your eyes meet.

"I- I love you too…" he stutters out, leaving the two of you to stare at one another for a moment before turning away with red-hot faces and spinning minds.

"H-he um..he’s usually out of the house and drinking at 7:30 every night so…"

"O-okay," Wonwoo lets out a shaky breath, heart racing and mind fuzzy, "we'll get your things then,"

After the initial shock of the sudden confession passes, the day goes by as normal - well, as normal as it could with the two of you being bashful at every glance and accidental touch. The two of you expected tensions to rise even higher but things were just kept...sweet. Especially because your boyfriend hadn't even bothered to text you. You can only guess that he had gotten himself super wasted the night before, woke up super late and went off again, thinking that you had already just gone to work early. Many days of not seeing each other passed like that between you and Kangdae, which made you feel even more stupid about how submissive you were to him. Instead of your relationship growing and blossoming into a beautiful floret of unconditional love, it only wilted and gradually atrophied into nothing, dust. There was no love left. And you were foolish enough to stay and believe that Kangdae could get better when you were only being as toxic as he was to himself and your relationship.

You're so glad Wonwoo has convinced you to leave him because you deserved better than that. You like to think that you knew this all along but there's never a problem with someone giving you a soft nudge in the right direction. For you, it was Wonwoo.

"(Y/N), I want you to meet Seungcheol and Mingyu," Wonwoo gestured to two very handsome, very tall and quite intimidating men, "they will be coming with us to get your things," he smiles kindly at you to which you miss the look of absolute shock that passes the two men's eyes, "they're my friends so you can trust them," Looking towards the two once more, you flash a gentle smile, which they happily reciprocate.

"So you're the girl that's swept our Wonwoo off his feet?" the taller of the two cooed, his chestnut brown hair flopping as he gives a little jump of happiness.

"It's about time," the other one smirks, chuckling at the soft glare Wonwoo flashes from behind you, "he needs a girl to distract him from all those books,"

They may be friendly and teasing now but when Wonwoo had reached out to all of his friends and explained the situation, they were utterly livid. Seething with anger, they all volunteered to help. It was overwhelming but it made Wonwoo extremely happy that his friends would be there for, not only him, but also for a complete stranger. Peering down at you now, Mingyu and Seungcheol found an even better reason to help out their friend than his initial proposal; you were just too precious to not help. You were tiny and fragile looking and, although your black eye made them wince, they found your beauty to be just as intimidating as Wonwoo's except that yours was on the other side of the beauty spectrum to their lean brother.

"You live here?" Mingyu exclaimed without thought, causing both Wonwoo and Seuncheol to slap him upside the head.

"Yeah..." you cringe, "I try to keep it clean but it can never stay that way with Kangdae around," you whisper as the three boys nod behind you.

"Hurry and get what you need, Mingyu, Seungcheol and I will keep a lookout," you nod and get to work. There weren't many things that you had to yourself, you actually had to sell a lot online so that you could afford to pay bills. It was funny how this was Kangdae's apartment but you were the one paying all of the electricity, gas, rent, food and much more. It made you laugh humourlessly. You'll never sacrifice yourself for someone like him again.

The time that you had arrived was at 19:40 and you were just about ready to go at around five minutes past eight in the evening. You just have your skincare left to pack before you can be well on your way.

"Who the hell are you?" the drunk voice of your boyfriend screams from within the living room, sending your heart racing.

"We're friends of (Y/N),"

"Where is she?!" Kangdae's voice grows louder and fear grips you around the neck. It was suffocating. This always happened, but when you hear Wonwoo talk back to him, just to sound of your gentle giant's voice has the power to calm you down completely and grow confidence in your heart.

"She'll be coming home with us, I'm afraid,"

"Yeah, she's just here to pack her things," Mingyu explains, putting up a brave face despite being the last person to ever involve himself in fights. He didn't sign up for this confrontation but just remembering the sadness in your eyes behind a purple, yellowing bruise spikes pluckiness within him. This guy was tiny compared to him anyway.

"She's leaving me? Why?! I bet it's because of you!" Kangdae jabs a finger at Wonwoo just as you step into the living room, putting up a valiant facade in spite of your still racing heart.

"Yes, Kangdae. I am leaving but it's not because of Wonwoo. I deserve better than the way you've been treating me. We're over, please don't ever contact me from now on because I never want to see you again," nearing the end of your sentence, you start to sniffle, heartbroken over losing something that could've been so much like heaven. Thankfully, Wonwoo is quick to pull you into a protective embrace just as Kangdae jumps towards your shaking frame. As soon as he tries to jump you, he is pushed back and kept away by Mingyu and Seungcheol. Despairing, your boyfriend, now ex, breaks down into pathetic weeping. Kangdae begs you to stay, apologising profusely and doing everything in his power to convince you to remain standing beside him but Wonwoo flashes a cold stare as he leads your sniffling form out the door, eliciting more vociferous wails.

"I'm really proud of you, (Y/N)," Wonwoo whispers as he wipes away your silent tears, "it takes guts to face someone you fear and need to break away from despite your history together," you nod, unable to muster up a smile, fully prepared to fall asleep and forget about the world.

The night is luxuriating, where you share three large pizzas and engage in a Disney movie marathon in Wonwoo's living room with Seungcheol and Mingyu. They made you laugh just by being themselves; their dynamic with each other was just so wholesome, full of teasing, many inside jokes, and endless smiles that they made you forget about any fatigue plaguing your bones.

"We need to introduce (Y/N) to the rest of the guys," Mingyu suggests through a mouthful of pepperoni pizza.

"There's more of you?" you tilt your head, smiling brightly as an eagerness fills you in anticipation of meeting the rest of their friendship group.

"There's ten more of us, actually," Seuncheol laughs at your look of shock.

"You can come and join us at our weekly hang out, if you're up to it," Mingyu offers cheerily after finally swallowing his food.

It was nearing midnight when Mingyu and Seungcheol finally make the journey back to their own apartments, leaving you and Wonwoo to go through your night routine together. You were sad to see them go, already feeling attached after just a few hours spent together but their promise of taking you to their next hang out was enough to keep you content for the meantime.

"If you don't want to join us at our hang out, you really don't have to," Wonwoo randomly brings up when you're going about your night routine. When you look up at him, you see his cheeks are dusted a soft pink, which makes you chuckle and raise suspicions.

"Don't tell me you're embarrassed about them, Wonwoo,"

"It's not that I'm embarrassed by them..." he pauses to sigh before continuing as he continues to moisturise his face, "I just don't want them embarrassing me in front of you," that makes you laugh so hard, you almost forget about your black eye and when you scrunch up your eyes whilst laughing, you cut off to squeak in pain. "Are you okay?!" in half a second, Wonwoo was beside you, a hand cupping your face and tilting your head up towards him so as to examine your injury.

"Y-yes, I'm fine, thank you. I'm sorry-" after blinking your eyes several times, you stare up at Wonwoo who had grown silent as he continues to sink deeper into your sweet gaze, the look in his eyes cutting off your rambling.

Was he leaning closer into you?

Were you leaning into him as well?

What's pressing against your lips? Why are your eyes closed?

Oh well...this must be what real heaven is. You don't know how you could have waited and hoped so long for Kangdae to be like this when it only took Wonwoo a few months of getting to know you to become your safe haven.

Several months pass by. In the first, you were adamant at finding your own apartment and moving out so that Wonwoo could have his own space again but fate just wouldn't separate the two of you. There wasn't a single chance that came by for you to get your own apartment so, in agreement with Wonwoo, you decided that you might as well just stay with him. Of course, you let him have his bedroom back while he turned his small study into a room for you. You felt like such a burden but Wonwoo was resolute in keeping you from ever feeling that way for long. It became a routine for you to cook breakfast, which you enjoyed doing because it meant that Wonwoo would leave for his lecture with a full stomach and ready to perform his best, while the two of you worked as a team to make dinner. However, sometimes you would cook it and other times Wonwoo would make something. He was more than eager to show you how much he was able to learn about cooking under your instructions. It never ceases to amaze you with how perfect ever new dish turns out despite cooking being such a new dexterity for the male. You're so proud of him.

Getting to meet the rest of Wonwoo's friends, you were accepted into the circle right away. Never before had you felt so much love and happiness. They treated you like the sister they never had, cooing at you and spoiling you rotten, standing behind the reason that you deserve it for being so adorable. On the other hand, such good treatment doesn't come without its downsides as the boys practically teased you and Wonwoo into going out together. It was a silly idea. A very silly idea that ended with you and Wonwoo surprisingly (or unsurprisingly) getting together.

It was hard at first, seeing as you had just gotten out of such a calamitous relationship with Kangdae, who hadn't stopped blowing up your phone the first week since you left until you were forced to block his number and get a new one, just to be on the safe side. Your hesitancy, only lasted, however, until Wonwoo was finally willing to let you hold his heart.

"Really?!" you squeal in excitement as the male before you chuckles and goes to fetch his heart.

"Yes, really," he comes back to find you bouncing in your place on the sofa, an image that almost washes all of his nerves away, "it's pretty heavy and isn't very nice to hold at all so be careful, alright?"

"Who cares!" you wave off his worries with the most nonchalant wave of your hand as you reach out to accept his heart of stone. He sits beside you as you examine his heart, running your fingers across its edges as he holds his breath, "Wonwoo," you tut in bluff disappointment, "you didn't have to lie to me," the male sits in shock, eyes wide as he watches you cuddle his heart in your hands. Never before had you looked so endearing, that the usually stoic male leans in to kiss you. He catches you off guard and turns the both of you into flustered messes. Wonwoo can safely bet that the two of you will continue getting flustered even years into the future and he's perfectly okay with that.

It appears as though his heart turns soft and light only for you while it stays substantial in weight on all other occasions. Even though it isn't a permanent change in other situations and Wonwoo still can't wear his heart around with him, he's happy with his heart only turning soft and light in your hands.

As long as you stay with him, he's happy.

As long as you keep turning his heart soft and light, he's happy.

As long as he has you, he's happy.

masterlist / seventeen hearts m.list

#wonwoo x reader #wonwoo fluff #jeon wonwoo #soulmate au #seventeen x reader #university au #fluff #angst #wonwoo angst

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vmheadquarters · 5 years ago

Text

We’re still playing our game of written hot potato! Dozens of your favorite authors are taking turns to tell a Veronica Mars mystery story. Each writer crafts their chapter and then “tosses” the story to the next person to continue the tale. No one knows what will happen, so expect the unexpected!

Follow the “vmhq presents” and “murder we wrote” tags for all the installments, or read the story as it develops on AO3. --Chapter Eighteen of MURDER, WE WROTE is written by @happilyshanghaied And stayed tuned next week for Ch.19 from @elliebear75 -tag, you’re it!

—————————————————————————————————— CHAPTER EIGHTEEN by @happilyshanghaied

Veronica hobbled over to the desk Mac was set up at and peered over her friend’s shoulder at the computer screen. “What am I looking at? I don’t see anything?”

“There.” Mac’s finger hovered over the bottom of the frame. A broadcast of the back door security camera rolled, time stamped 02:37AM. The picture remained static for a few seconds, but then the door flew open and Mac, bundled in a winter coat with her collar up, rushed out of the door, dropping it shut behind her. “This is right after I saw Leo’s body being taken.” With one swift keystroke she froze the playback.

“Taken? I thought you said you noticed he was missing?” Veronica turned to look at Mac so quickly she almost threw herself off balance.

“I—yeah. I mean, I couldn’t tell who it was, there was just a large shadow dragging another large shadow across the ice.”

“You actually saw somebody dragging him off? Why didn’t you say something earlier?” She demanded, unable to stop the sharpness from leaching into her tone.

“Oh I don’t know, perhaps it was the bludgeoning I received?” Mac sighed and pointed to the gash on her forehead. “I haven’t exactly been quick on the draw, Veronica.”

“Yeah, no shit. You told me earlier that you got attacked by an adult-toddler Lilly Kane. Must’ve been one helluva knock to the old noggin.” Veronica knew her anxiety was making her short with Mac and the guilt niggled at her. She waved a hand in the air between them as if fanning the tense exchange away like an unpleasant smell. “I’m sorry. Seriously. I think the...well, everything is starting to get to me.”

“Right there with you,” Logan piped in, a gentle brush of a hand across the small of her back reminding her that she didn’t have to shoulder this stress alone.

Veronica pressed back into his open palm and grounded herself, then turned her attention to Wallace. “Okay, so you both saw a large shadow dragging another large shadow across the ice, and that’s when you decided to follow them?”

“No, that’s when Mac decided to follow them, but I couldn’t just watch her get herself Purged by that big guy and do nothing.” Wallace pressed a hand over his heart. “My mom raised a gentleman.”

Veronica grinned at him. “And you call me a marshmallow.”

“I’m gangsta.” Wallace pointed the end of a half eaten licorice stick at Veronica. “Gangsta.”

“Okay, Tupac.” Her smile grew bigger.

Logan pursed his lips in thought. “If you ran after her, how come you ended up in two totally different places?”

“Do I look like Robinson Crusoe to you?” Wallace pulled two more licorice twists from his bag of Red Vines and wordlessly handed one to Veronica. “This island is big AF, and you can barely see two feet in front of you out there. Leo has to weigh about 170, and with the amount of drag a corpse that size would produce across an uneven snow bank, it’s not short work for anybody, regardless of their size. I just assumed the body snatcher pulled him across the ice, so I headed toward the docks.”

“But not you.” Veronica’s attention returned to Mac and she gestured to the video.

“Just watch.” Mac started the video again, and roughly 90 seconds into it, the back door opened again, and a person—undeniably, a man—rushed quickly through the frame.

“Can you go back and freeze on him?” Veronica’s heartbeat started to rabbit in her chest. This was the closest thing to an actual lead they’d gotten so far, but she knew a positive ID in the dark was probably going to be a stretch.

“I could, but it would be pointless.” Mac slowly scrolled the recording back and paused on the male figure; his face was downturned and angled away from the camera. “I’ve gone over it ten times. It’s almost like he knew where the cameras were.”

“Maybe he did.” Logan hooked his chin over Veronica’s shoulder and leaned in closer to get a better look. “My dad always had a knack for avoiding the security cameras at Casa Echolls whenever he went on one of his little amourettes in the middle of the night. The way he purposely turned his head as he walked directly toward the camera, that guy moves like somebody who knows their way around.”

“I didn’t notice any staff other than Jen and myself,” Mac reported. “A catering team was supposed to show up, but they got waylaid by the storm.”

Veronica’s fingers worried the strap on her bag as she tried to make sense of all the new information. “Okay, so besides the two of you and the missing boat captain, there was nobody else outside?”

“Not unless Mistress X is lurking around here somewhere.” Mac mimed looking over her shoulder.

“Right. We have just two suspects then—two men—based on their size and shape, and one of them may or may not be the boat captain. One guy was already outside, probably hunkering down in a nearby location until we all went to bed,” Veronica surmised, her stomach giving way to an uneasy feeling as a realization took hold. “And that means—it means the other man—”

“Was already inside the house. With us.” Logan exhaled a warm exhale against the side of her neck and a shiver ran through her.

“Well, fuck.” Mac picked up a nearby bag of ice and pressed it to her head with a wince. “If I didn’t already have a raging migraine…”

Veronica trusted Mac with her life, and she knew there was nothing her friend was holding back, so this left one other person who had possible insider knowledge of the murder and the players behind it. “What do you know about Jen, Mac?”

Mac shrugged, groaning as the ice shifted in the bag. “I know her social security, her grades, her blood type, credit card debt, past employment history, every address she’s lived at over the last ten years…”

Veronica huffed out a bemused laugh. “Anything you couldn’t have lifted off LexisNexis?”

Mac‘s brow furrowed in concentration. “She‘s... kind of a cat person?”

“You’ve lived with her for six months, and the only thing you’ve learned about her is that she’s kind of a cat person?”

“You know I don’t do—” She made a hand gesture that Veronica absolutely didn’t not recognize. “Not like those plebs out there. Jen seems nice, got me a security job working a few of these live-action Clue gigs, but we’re not, like, having pillow fights or scrapbooking together on weekends.”

Logan started at Mac, blankly. “Is that what you think normal women do together?”

“I hang out with her,” Mac said, pointing at Veronica. “Of course, I don’t know what normal women do together.”

Logan’s mouth fell open, but Veronica elbowed him lightly in the ribs before he could say something snarky.

“Okay.” Veronica reached out and touched Mac’s shoulder. “Is it possible that the blonde who hit you, the one you thought was adult-toddler Lilly Kane—”

“You are never going to let me live that down, huh?” Mac’s lips curled into a sardonic smile.

“I am not.” Veronica's grin echoed Mac’s, and she only just managed to hold back her laughter. “Is it possible that adult-toddler Lilly Kane could have actually been Jen? I mean, they’re both blonde...but only one of them has an adult shape.” She mimed heavy bosoms, then looked sadly down at her own meager chest.

Mac sighed loudly and nodded. “It’s possible, yes. I mean, I only caught a glimpse of her and had just gotten my head bashed in.”

“Great.” Veronica clapped her hands together once, punctuating the exchange. “I need you to go find Jen and do a ‘me’ with her. Can you handle that?”

“I assume that means charming her, or conning her into spilling all her secrets?” Mac looked visibly uncomfortable. “I’m not sure my brand of delightfully awkward is going to yield much success.”

“Hmm, if only I knew somebody extremely charismatic who could help you?” Veronica’s eyes slid toward Wallace, who had just finished swallowing his last bite of licorice.

***

Once Mac and Wallace were gone, Logan slid into Mac’s vacant chair with the grace of a cat, pulling Veronica onto his lap in one swift move. She pressed her face into the side of his neck and allowed herself a moment to get lost in his scent.

So much had happened, yet she’d barely had a moment to think about how this would work, what their old, new relationship would look like. Was he really going to transfer to be closer to her? How would he fit into her life at Stanford? And did it matter? They’d both given getting over each other the old college try. It hadn’t worked in high school, nor at Hearst, and she was woman enough to admit that this thing between them might just always be a part of her. Even when Logan wasn’t in her life, he was always present in her mind, teasing at the edges of her awareness like a phantom limb.

He snaked a hand up the back of her shirt and rested it between her shoulder blades, anchoring her to his chest. “How are you holding up?”

“Physically or mentally?” she asked, leaning over to press a kiss just behind his ear. “Not that the answer isn’t the same for both.”

His hand moved gently up and down her spine. “Dealer’s choice.”

She pulled back a little bit to look him in the eyes. “I feel like a shit magnet.”

His lips quirked, the way they always did when he found something she said amusing. “You are a shit magnet, as am I. I don’t know if it’s us or this town, but I’m beginning to think we should probably spend all our time together. Maybe only half of the Very Bad Things would happen to us if we were always in the same place?”

“That’s an interesting proposition.” She fingered the soft hair at the nape of his neck and wet her lips. “How would that work exactly? Would you sneak into my dorm room at night?” She inched her face closer to his. “Or would I go to you?”

His eyes dropped to her lips. “We could change to online schooling, telecommute from our bedroom.”

Her hand slid up his neck to cup the side of his face. “I don’t know, I feel like we might not get much work done with that arrangement, and I’d like to graduate one day.”

Logan broke into a laugh and closed the distance between them, kissing her deeply before dragging his lips down the side of her neck. She gasped as he reached a sensitive spot and threaded her fingers through his hair, tugging with a breathy sigh as he repeated the move.

He hummed against her skin. “God, the noises you make...if we weren’t living through an actual horror film right now…”

Deflated by the reminder, Veronica protectively cradled his head against her collarbone. “Somebody under this roof is a killer.”

He nodded, a silent response.

She thought of all the other men staying at the house: Luke, Dick, Casey, Cole, Norris and Duncan. They all had skeletons, to be sure, there was hardly anybody from Neptune who didn’t—herself included—and they all had the financial means to pull something like this off, but something wasn’t sitting with her right.

The level of focus on her was quite a coincidence.

And coincidences were nothing but the contrived intersection of planning, opportunity, and luck.

“Logan,” she started, unsure how to bring this up. “Those character sheets we got were freakishly accurate, no?”

His head pricked up at the question. “Too accurate.”

“I mean, I suppose if somebody wanted to, they could’ve figured out a lot of those details or hired somebody like Leo to dig around, but why would they?”

Logan’s eyes brightened as he immediately picked up her line of thought. “Cole never cared much about us and he still doesn’t, so I doubt it’s him. You actually helped Luke get out of a jam, even if it wasn’t in the way he wanted. I can’t see why he’d suddenly want to torment you several years later.”

“Dick is a dick,” she added, “but I know he’d never do anything to harm you, and by extension, me, so I feel like we can rule him out.”

“What’s the connection with Casey? You guys seemed awfully chummy for a bit during junior year,” he said, coyly.

“Oh, you noticed?”

“I always noticed.” He shot her a meaningful look.

She found a loose thread on Logan's shirt and toyed with the end of it. “I think he might’ve had a little thing for me in high school after I did that job at the Mooncalf Collective.”

Logan exhaled roughly in mock exasperation. “Casey, Norris, Leo, Duncan...I’m starting to feel a bit like one of your choir boys.”

“No.” She planted a kiss on his warm brow. “You’re leading man material.”

“Is that so?” That seemed to placate Logan, who dropped right back into sleuthing mode. “So, what do we think of Norris?”

“He’s a cop,” she said, as if this were reason enough to exonerate him.

Apparently, Logan didn’t think so by the way he balked. “So was Vinnie Van Lowe. And Don Lamb.”

“So was my dad,” she retorted.

“So was Leo...who sold me sex tapes of my dad and a minor.” His expression was incredulous.

“Okay.” Veronica held her palms up, acquiescing. She was now more convinced than ever that her dad might be the only honest man left in town. “Being a cop in Neptune, or...well, anywhere, I guess, doesn’t mean you can’t be dirty, but I don’t think Norris is a bad guy. He stood up for me when I was being bullied.” Logan looked away, cowed by the reminder of his past, but she turned his chin back toward her. “He’s just a sweet guy with some niche Japanese interests.”

“Throwing stars and katanas,” he reminded her.

“Did Leo look like he was murdered with a katana? Did Madison?”

“Okay. Fine. I trust your instincts,” Logan said, and a shadow crossed his features as he avoided her gaze. “But that leaves just one person, then.”

Veronica nodded, realizing where this was going and feeling just as skittish about it as he looked. “I know we’ve both kind of been avoiding speaking to him, but he hasn’t even said why he’s back. Or how. Surely, he didn’t risk jail time just to play Mr. Boddy at a shitty high school reunion party.”

Logan nervously shifted under her. “You didn’t ask him why he was here?”

“You’ve been with me the whole time. I know my communication skills aren’t great, but I feel like that’s something I would’ve mentioned to you.”

Logan looked as though he wanted to ask something but paused, the unspoken question hanging precariously in the air like a bubble moments away from rupture.

“Say it.” Her voice was calm and measured, but her insides were rolling with fear.

“Do you think Duncan could be a murderer?”

“Do you?” she shot back, unsure why she felt so defensive and angry about the idea.

Duncan was in her rearview mirror, and she was happy about it. The complicated feelings she had about him veered from affection to anger, but through it all, she couldn’t help but feel loyalty. It somehow felt like she was betraying Lilly for even thinking this might be true.

And what did this say about her abilities as a PI? Aaron, Beaver, Woody, Mercer—all malevolent people capable of unspeakable crimes, and she didn’t pick up on any of them until it was too late.

Logan shrugged, helplessly. “Before the two of you broke up the first time, I would’ve said there was no way...but the way he attacked Jake that one night after you split, how angry he was about not being with you? He was never the same after Lilly’s murder. He was like a brother to me, but I don’t know.” He shook his head, distraught at the suggestion. “I don’t know, Veronica.”

“Well,” she took a deep breath and pressed her lips against Logan’s for fortitude. “I think it’s time we found out, don’t you?”

***

When you were here before, couldn’t look you in the eye. You’re just like an angel, your skin makes me cry...

The faint strains of “Creep”, by Radiohead, eerily carried down the hallway, no doubt the ironic song choice one of Dick’s brilliant ideas.

Logan’s arm was wrapped around Veronica’s waist, carefully supporting half her weight as she limped toward the main room. She caught a glimpse of Wallace out of the corner of her eye, speaking with Jen by the wrought iron-framed picture window at the back. His hip was cocked as he leaned in and said something that made her chuckle, the friendly scene a stark contrast against the frigid and desolate landscape looming behind them.

Veronica wondered how easy it would be to hide amidst the snowbanks. With everything so white, any shock of color would likely stand out, even through the overwhelming snow. As big as this mansion was, from a distance, it was also just a shock of color—a garish slash of humanity bisecting the wilderness—incongruous and wrong.

Something was incongruous and wrong inside the mansion, too, but Veronica was too close to it all to get a good view.

Her eyes canvassed the room, skipping over the people who had tormented her in high school as she searched for Duncan. Even without the murder, this party would have been a nightmare.

Duncan was sitting by himself on a loveseat, gazing serenely at the view while nursing a hot drink.

What the hell am I doing here? I don’t belong here…

Veronica’s arm tightened around Logan’s back, and she angled her chin to speak with him privately. “He’s there, on the loveseat.”

Logan’s eyes narrowed in Duncan’s direction as he pulled her into a hug and lowered his lips to the shell of her ear. “How are we doing this?”

She didn’t answer right away, knowing he wasn’t going to like her suggestion, but her silence spoke volumes.

“No way.” His chest rose and fell, and his arms tensed around her. “It’s not that I don’t think you can handle this, but you’re injured.”

“I’m just going to talk to him, no sneaky spy business.” She knew the promise sounded as hollow as it was.

“What if he’s a killer, Veronica? What then?”

She pulled back and looked him in the eyes, whispering, “You know he’s more likely to talk if it’s just me asking questions, and you’re right here. If something crazy happens, you’ll just spring into action hero mode like you always do and save the day.”

“I don’t like it,” he said, weakly, with a frown, but she could tell he knew her well enough to understand that arguing against this was futile.

“I know you don’t.” She brushed an index finger across his downturned lips. “I promise I won’t do anything intentionally stupid. And hey, this is Duncan. Do we really think he’s some kind of villainous mastermind? He couldn’t even remember all his lines for the middle-school play.”

His eyes softened as he brushed a stray hair away from her face, letting his fingers linger on her jawline. “You know, it’s really inconvenient for me to love and hate exactly the same things about you.”

“I know.” She turned and kissed the side of his hand before gingerly taking a few steps back. “But, you love them just a little bit more.”

Before she could lose her nerve, she turned and limped over to where Duncan was seated. “Buy a girl a drink?”

“Veronica!” Duncan lit up at her presence, and he scooted over to make room for her. “I heard you’d injured your ankle. I hope it doesn’t hurt much.”

“You know, they say it’s exactly the same walking on sand and snow, but they would be wrong. There are no stray branches hiding on the beach.” She lowered herself slowly onto the seat, sighing as the weight eased off her ankle. “What are you doing over here alone?”

He sighed and peered into his half empty mug of hot chocolate. “This is a really weird weekend. It’s definitely not what I was expecting when I got on the plane to come home.”

Amazed she didn’t even have to work around to it, Veronica took the bait. “What were you expecting when you got on the plane?”

His expression was pensive for a moment, before he shook his head. “I don’t know. I mean, I’m aware a lot of time has passed, but I wanted to see you.”

“Oh?” She wasn’t sure she liked where this was headed.

“You risked everything to help me, and then I just—” His hands tightened around the mug. “I just left. I barely got to say a proper goodbye, didn’t even get to thank you.”

Veronica knew it was ridiculous to get sucked in by this act when so many signs pointed toward him possibly being a killer, but his stupid blue eyes looked so earnest and sad, and it was hard not to believe him. She’d always had too much of a soft spot for him.

“I knew.” She leaned over and squeezed Duncan’s hand. “I’m just happy we were able to get little Lilly away from Meg’s horrible parents.”

“Yeah.” He nodded and squeezed her hand back. “She’s doing really well.”

“I’m so glad. Speaking of,” she inched closer to him, “how did you manage to get past immigration with that arrest warrant they put out?”

“Oh.” He appeared genuinely befuddled for a moment, but then smiled brightly. “Mom took care of that.”

“I thought your mom was against you raising Lilly?”

He shrugged his shoulders, looking so much like the uncomplicated teen she once knew. “You know how she is when it comes to me.”

Veronica remembered how Celeste had covered up a murder she thought Duncan was responsible for, how she had sent Veronica’s dad to retrieve him in Cuba when he ran away, and how virulently she had tried to protect Duncan’s inheritance from Veronica’s potential paternity claim.

Was there anything Celeste wouldn’t do for her favorite child?

“I know.” Veronica smiled tightly.

They sat in companionable silence for a minute, still holding hands, watching the soft snow flutter outside the window.

But I’m a creep, I’m a weirdo...

“Veronica...” Duncan turned toward her, a besotted look in his eyes that she knew very well. “Do you—do you love him? Logan?”

She looked down at their joined hands and quickly released Duncan’s, a sinking feeling taking hold of her stomach, then slowly raised her gaze to meet his. “Did you come back home for me?”

“What would you say if I said yes?” he asked, eyes hopeful.

She shook her head, both shocked and not. “I would say that at one time, I loved you very much, but I’m not that girl anymore.”

“Yes, you are,” he spat out, body slightly recoiling with the movement. “How can you be a different person? It hasn’t been much longer than two years. Who changes that much in such a short time?”

She steeled her nerves and turned to face him fully. “I haven’t changed. I don’t think I was ever the girl you thought I was. I’m not even sure you would have liked the real me back then.”

“So, you were—what?” he shot back, face beginning to flare with heat. “Just faking it with me?”

“No.” She grabbed his hand again, which instantly calmed him down. “I didn’t even know myself back then, Duncan. Lilly did, though, she always understood me.”

“Does he know the real you?” Duncan looked at a point over her shoulder, and she turned to find Logan watching the two of them with a stoic expression.

“Yes,” she said, as Logan’s eyes connected with hers. “He’s a little bit broken, just like me.”

Duncan seemed offended by the suggestion. “You’re not broken, Ronnie.”

“Broken isn’t bad, Duncan. Have you ever heard of the Japanese art of kintsugi?” Off his head shake, she continued, “They take broken pieces of expensive, intricate pottery and put them back together again, filling the cracks with gold and silver, making the new pieces stronger, even more interesting and beautiful than they were before.”

“And that’s you? Broken pottery?” he asked, in a mocking tone.

She shook her head. “Repurposed. Better. Stronger. You liked the perfect porcelain.”

“No.” His hand tightened around hers almost painfully, as he leaned closer and whispered hoarsely, “I’m broken, too. Just like you. I came back for you, the real you.”

Veronica was sick with guilt. She hadn’t asked for any of this, but she couldn’t help but feel bad, anyway. The last time he had seen her, she was still in love with him, and that image of her was clearly frozen in amber in his mind. “Duncan, I’m so sorry, but I lov—”

A loud, metallic crash against the other side of the wall was punctuated by a man’s haunting groan.

#veronica mars #veronica mars fanfic #vm fanfic #vmhq presents #murder we wrote #round robin

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