#i don’t have too much planned for this universe sooo

[teddybearty]

How do Banban and Nabnab relate to each other in your au?

They have more of a brotherly bond / familial closeness but they aren’t related!

I can definitely see them fight like brothers lol

[celestie0]

gojo satoru x reader | oneshot angst [18+]

title. let me be free of you

He would live in this lifetime of hell over and over again if it meant that in some other one, there exists a world where he never hurts you.

ᰔ pairing. friends to strangers au - best friend!gojo x reader (f)

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru, your love of a lifetime, tells you he’s engaged to another woman. inspired by the novel & netflix series “one day” created by david nicholls

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fem!reader, angst, mentions of sex/explicit content, coming of age themes, reader & gojo are in their 30s, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of alcohol, cheating, lots of mutual pining & longing, bittersweet ending

ᰔ word count. 4.8k

a/n. hellooo! i've had this finished in my wips folder for a long time but never got around to posting it sooo just wanted to let it see the light of day haha. hope you enjoyyy <33

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“I’m engaged.”

The words leave Gojo’s lips as much less of a confession and more like a blabber, like a toddler desperate to keep conversation going in the face of a disinterested adult. Wasn’t how he expected to share the news of a lifetime to the love of his lifetime, but he hopes it breaks your heart to hear it. 

He watches your eyebrows flatten from the crease that was bothering them before, and then slowly raise into soft arches above your eyes–those damn beautiful eyes that, even when they twinkle with hurt, still make his heart skip a beat in his chest.

He recalls for a moment the night the two of you met, drunk and dizzy from drinking out of a shared bottle of Prosecco, which only had half of the liquor left in it to start when he had first found it bleeding out to dry on the grassy lawn at the front of your university. It was graduation night, the last day to celebrate finishing four years of hell, and he had nothing to his name other than a rolled up diploma shoved in the pocket of his suit pants and the charm left in the youth of his smile. He wanted to spend the night with Aiko Rei, which was not a unique desire as most men on campus did, and he had a fair shot of getting into bed with her just like all those times before. But instead he was sitting at the top of a staircase inside the campus’s English literature building, making history in the crisp year of 1986 by being the first man of the robust age of twenty-three to pass up sex with the school’s lady heartthrob for–well, conversation with a sort of ditsy girl that he just met a half hour ago.

“What do you plan to do with your life?” he heard you ask him, a hard enough question to stomach when one is sober, and an impossible question to stomach when one is already trying not to puke flat Prosecco.

“Pardon?” he asked, in hopes to dissuade you from the question. In hopes that you’d get the hint. But you don’t. And he’d soon learn throughout the years of your friendship to come that you never did.

“Your life!” you exclaim, “we’re graduates now! What do you want to do with it?” You pat harshly at his thigh, closer to his groin than to his pocket, most likely because you’re tipsy too, but he realizes you’re referring to the rolled up paper protruding at the pocket. 

Truthfully, Gojo had never thought much about what he wanted to do after graduation. Hell, he didn’t even think he’d make it this far. Not once since he got here, not once since he flunked out of first-year history, not once since his father passed away during his third-year final examinations, and most certainly not after he got caught having “unethical affairs” with his communications professor just two months ago. And yet the esteemed board of scholars decided he was fit for a diploma anyway, and now he’s answering to, effectively, a stranger what he plans to do with said piece of paper.

“I don’t know,” he says to you, “I’ll do whatever.” 

Gojo Satoru could get by with doing whatever. He was good at everything he did. But his teachers and mentors and his own father would always warn him– son, it’s better to be an expert at one than a half-assed show-off in all. Well, they wouldn’t use the expletives, but that’s what it had sounded like in his head.

His dad would’ve liked you. He was always telling him to find a girl that challenges him, asks him the right questions, and pushes him to become a better man, the kind of woman his mother was to his father. Much opposed to the airheaded girls of Gojo’s college campus he would sneak into the house and forget to shoo off before sunrise, an occurrence that happened enough times for the respect in his father’s eyes to dwindle with each woman he’d watch his son dispel from their residence. Until eventually, Gojo started paying rent as punishment.

So, twenty-three year old Gojo, what do you plan to do with your life? Or do you have no idea of anything that extends beyond where you are right now, sitting across this strange girl you’ve just met on the death of your educational youth, at the top of a stairwell lined with passed out, drunk newly grads at nearly 4 in the morning? Right now, he’s eyeing the hem of your dress, the way it’s ridden up slightly but the mesh overskirt still tickles the skin of your thigh. He’s certainly able to picture what’s beyond that fabric, and maybe imagine the color of your panties, but what’s to come for his life? No. As previously mentioned, he never thought he’d get this far.

Gojo is thirty-four now, eleven years since that night the two of you met. And he sits next to you on a garden bench under a pitch black sky with stars speckled across, but only dimly visible. 

It’s been years since he’s seen you. You two had a “falling out” at the cusp of thirty, almost a decade of friendship fizzled away, because of his selfish actions. He couldn’t let you go, but he couldn’t want you the way you wanted him either. He didn’t feel like he deserved to have you. You were too good for him, and he knew it. So he wasted a decade chasing after other women, and in return, he lost the one he knew he was supposed to spend the rest of his life with.

It’s the night of your college roommate‘s wedding, all gathered here today to celebrate their love, and he knew he’d run into you here. You were the bride’s maiden of honor, and you looked beautiful. With your hair half tied up, a pretty clip twinkling with every movement of your head, and with strands falling down over the smooth curve of your neck, bare skin of your chest tightly covered by the nude fabric of your dress. He was fully lusting after you, and he has been all night, the picture of beauty and grace, and it was wrong. Because, again, he’s–

“You’re engaged?” you finally break through his thoughts, break through the trance that he was lost in by the sea of your eyes. Forever pulling him in like you were a wicked siren for his soul, when all you’ve ever wanted from him was his love.

He shifts a little, the thick fabric of his navy blue suit stretching with the movement as he fidgets with his hands in his lap. He’s sitting close to you, his shoulder brushing against yours, the contrast of his broad masculinity so evident against the feminine curve of your bare arm, the thin strap holding up your dress threatening to fall down the hill. His thumb twitches, because he wants to pull it back up into place for you like a gentleman, but he’s not sure if that’s what his hand would actually do. Because all he really wants to do is peel the dress off of you. 

“Yes,” he says, still tantalized by the glow of your skin under pale moonlight, “engaged.”

“To be married?”

“Well, what other kind of engaged is there?”

“You’re not allowed to get married.”

He snorts. “Says who?”

“Says me!” you exclaim, sitting up straighter, "I turn my back for one moment, and you've gone an got engaged? You're awful!" The strap of your dress falls down over your shoulder, his eyes immediately darting to it. He sees you pull the strap up back into place, and a flit of his eyes to your face reveals to him the slight dusting of an embarrassed pink to your cheeks. 

There’s a silence that settles between the two of you. Distant commotion is heard, likely from the wedding venue as people engage in reception activities and dances and cheers, while the two of you remain in this garden escape, the wall of primly trimmed bushes sheltering you two from having to pretend to be people you’re not amongst a crowd.

“Aiko…” he hears you say beside him, and although the name of the woman that has rolled off your tongue is the name of the woman he’s supposed to love, it only makes him feel sick to his stomach to hear you say her name. “She seems lovely.”

“She is,” is all he can manage to say. And he also knows this seemingly lovely woman is probably drunk off her face back at the reception hall, giggling at all the men that approach her from the sight of her flushed face, and he should feel some sort of jealousy or possessiveness over that, but he can’t seem to muster any. Unlike the grit he had to his jaw an hour ago when he saw you dancing with a man he heard you introduce to your friends as just an “old friend” of yours from college. He felt more anger in that moment than he’d ever felt watching his soon-to-be-wife getting talked up to by the sleazy men twice her age. 

“She must be very rich,” you say. “She looks it.”

“Oh. Yeah. Her family’s very well off,” Gojo says.

“So will you become rich too?” you ask him, “when you marry her.”

His eyes flit to the sky briefly. “Doubt it.”

“How come?”

“The old man doesn’t like me very much. I imagine he’ll cut ties after the wedding.”

“Her father?”

“Yes.”

“And why is that?”

“Well. I guess it’s not every father’s dream to find out his prim and proper daughter’s been knocked up by the good-for-nothing boyfriend he’s been threatening her to say good riddance to for months now.”

The silence finds the two of you again, but this time haunting and gutting. That was a blabber, if anything. So nonchalantly said, with no emotion or spirit, to the one person in this world who he’s always felt like he can be himself around.

“She’s pregnant?” you say beside him, voice breaking slightly at the end, and he can’t bear to look at you for some reason. Some sort of admission of guilt, but what for? What exactly was he repenting for?

He lets out a small laugh, like the absurdity of the situation finds him all the same. “Yeah.” 

“That–” you start, stiff next to him, before he feels the tension relax but only rigidly, “that’s wonderful, Satoru. I’m–...I’m really happy for you.” You turn your torso to wrap your arms around him, and his lips brush the sweet skin on your forehead as you bury your face in the crook of his neck. He wraps one arm around you, a sort of friendly hug as he rubs the skin of your arm soothingly, and his heart aches from the emptiness when you release him. 

“Wow…” you say, looking up at him with pretty eyes, eyelashes fluttering as you blink rapidly to process the information, and he wonders if you really are happy for him. He doesn’t want you to be. He wants you to be furious, to tell him off for getting another woman pregnant after leading you on for so many years, maybe he wants you to slap him, or grab him by the collar of his shirt and shake him until all he sees is a million of you through dizzy vision like some paradise. He wants you to be mad, because it’d mean that you still care. It’d mean that you still think there’s something here to salvage between the two of you. 

But he’s engaged. And he’s having a baby. What was more final than that?

“So…are you marrying her because of–”

“The wedding is in four weeks,” he cuts you off, but he knows the statement answers your question regardless.

“Satoru…”

He leans off to the side a little to reach into the pocket of his suit pants, and he pulls out what is now a slightly bent envelope and he hands it to you. You take it from him gently, holding it weakly like it was something beyond you. Like something distant and foreign and strange. When all it was, is a wedding invitation. 

“Listen…” he starts.

He sees your eyes dazed as you stare at the lettering on the outside of the envelope.

“We’ve been friends for a long time, y/n. And I know the last time we saw each other was–” Hostile. Angry. Disappointing. Ended with you cussing him out on the street and then saying you never want to see him again. “...not ideal, but I still care a lot about you, and, uh, so, it would mean a lot to me if you came to the wedding.” For fucks sake, even on the brink of losing you forever, he still can’t find the right words to say. “Aiko, she–” He tastes bitter in his mouth, “well, I’ve told her a lot about you, and she’d really love it if you came as well.”

You’re silent as you gently peel back the opening of the letter and then pull out the small card stock invitation. The gold printed letters shine as you inspect it, fingers tracing the patterns of words that profess the Rei family’s intent to wed their daughter to Gojo Satoru. Your Gojo Satoru. Your best friend in this whole wide world. He watches your eyes carefully, but he can’t discern what he finds in them.

“Gojo Satoru…” you drone off, “to be wed. And to be a father.” Years of late night talks of the future, of kids and Christmas and love, with reality seemingly sly on the horizon only to have crept up so abruptly. It was pinched between your fingers right now. That reality.

His shoulders sulk slightly. And when you look up at him again, there’s a sheen of tears in your eyes.

“I can’t come to this,” you whisper, “and you know that, Satoru.”

His heart breaks. A physical pain that twists in his chest so tight at just the sight of seeing you sad. Sad again over the actions of his own. They say you always hurt the one you love, and he had always wondered what sort of evil person would do such a thing, only to find out he’s only ever hurt you this entire time. 

He should’ve kissed you that night the two of you met at graduation. Should’ve shut you up and all your existential questions by pinning you to a wall and pressing his lips against yours. He should’ve taken you to bed and fucked you, and then held you in his arms until you woke up in the morning. Should’ve listened to you talk his ear off about how he’s just like all the other guys, who pretend to care, but only want to have sex and then never to speak to the girl ever again. And he should’ve laid there in bed, nose nuzzled in your hair, taking all the scolding despite having no intent to ever leave you.

Instead, he wasted so much time. Sure, he had your friendship. His best friend for years, but the two of you could’ve been something more. Could’ve spent the years together, instead of writing stained letters or leaving messages on answering machines while the two of you were miles away. He could’ve been waking up with you every morning with the scent of your shampoo on his sheets, instead of clinging to pillows in foreign motel rooms. He could’ve been engaged to you, and he could be whispering sweet nothings in your ear of how much he wishes the baby will have your eyes. 

But his thoughts are lost in fantasy. He is what he’s done, nothing more and nothing less. His eyes fall to your lap, the invitation still held loosely in your hand, and then a droplet of water falls onto it.

“I–” you stutter, wiping at the tears spilling down your cheeks with a hesitant swipe of your hand, “I need to go.”

You stand up off the bench and he quickly stands up with you, grabbing your wrist to keep you here with him, and you halt but only with you facing away from him. He yanks at your wrist harshly, pulling you into him so his chest is flush to your back, his arms wrapping strongly around you and his nose nuzzling into your hair, breathing you in greedily like it’s the last time he’ll ever get the chance.

“Satoru–” you gasp, your hands immediately grabbing at his forearms that are tightly crossed across your collarbone. “What are you doing–” 

“Say it,” he whispers, gruff and impatient, “tell me to do it, and I will.”

“T-Tell you to do what?” you stutter, struggling a little in his hold but he only holds you tighter.

“Tell me to leave her, and I will,” he says, his lips brushing at your ear now, the scent of your perfume maddening to his senses, and one of his hands slowly trails down and the knuckle of his thumb presses into the softness of your breast.

You squirm, a small and soft moan leaving your lips.

“T–” you breathe in harshly, “this is wrong.” 

“I don’t care,” he growls, arms sliding lower to hold you under your breasts, so tightly that your heels lift off the ground. “Just say the word, and I’ll leave everything behind for you. I promise,” he breathes in deep, the desperation making his head hazy, “that I’ll do things right this time. Just you and me–” 

“You’re going to be a father,” you remind him, and he shuts his eyes closed tightly, the responsibility of the word bearing on his shoulders but his desire for you overshadows every shred of sense or dignity or integrity he has left in him, because he felt like he was losing his mind after wanting you for years just to never have you. 

He turns you around in his hold so that you face him, and he crashes his lips to yours, muffling the surprised mmf! that dies in your throat in surprise as his hands hold your waist, relishing in the feeling of satin fabric pulled taut over your curves.

Forbidden, yet a taste that he’ll risk because there was no curse that was worse than the fate of having to pine after you for years.

Ah.

But.

But it was all fantasy, this moment in his head, where he takes you on the freshly cut grass of this garden. 

Something that only briefly flashes through his mind as his warm hand wraps around your wrist, from where he was still seated on the stone bench, and not on his feet holding you like he dreamed for. Like he longed for.

He feels the weight of his arm so heavily, as if it weren’t his own, and he slowly lets go of your wrist.

When he looks up at you, there’s longing in your eyes. A hurt that he didn’t even know he was capable of causing, just for him to realize that you’ve always looked at him that way, and he’s never been keen enough to know it until now. He grew up too late. He took too long.

His phone starts buzzing in his pocket, and he reaches in for it, then flips it open and sees his soon-to-be-wife’s name on it. He feels nothing at the sight.

“Hello?” he speaks into the device when he holds it to his ear, and he sees you take a couple steps away, rubbing anxiously at your elbow as you pretend to busy yourself with the study of the lamp. “Yes, I’ll be there soon. I, uh, I’m just with a friend. A couple of friends, actually. We’re having drinks by the pond. Mhm. Yes. I will. Okay, see you soon. I—…I love you too. Bye.” And then he snaps the phone shut. 

“Heading back?” he hears you ask.

He stands. “I’ve got to.”

“Okay.” 

You two walk down the shrubbery of the garden that was arranged like a maze, him a few paces behind you, and he watches the delicate line of your posture as your hand brushes against the green walls of foliage that encase the two of you, the feeling of wanting to touch you and hold you almost suffocating. 

“Hey,” he calls out to you, and he shoves his hands in his suit pockets. You turn around immediately to face him, like his voice was permission to do so.

“Yes?” you ask.

He blinks up at the starry sky, and then looks at you again. The soft cast of distant warm lighting falls over your face, making you appear like a renaissance painting, similar to those that you would point out to him at museums when you two would see each other on holiday back in your early twenties. He could never understand the charm of those paintings, no matter how many times you tried to explain it to him, but seeing you in this light right now, he finally understands the beauty that you saw. 

“I’m, uh,” he rubs at the back of his neck, and then scoffs out a small laugh, “I’m a little drunk right now, but–” He stops himself. What was he trying to say? And was it of conscious mind? “I just need to tell you that…I really regret…not speaking to you. I mean, for letting the silence drag on for years. You’re my–...my best friend. We’re a pair, you know? The two of us. For years, people would ask me where you were. And why they haven’t seen us together at all recently. And it was hard to admit that we hadn’t spoken in years.”

You take the smallest of steps towards him, and look up at him with empty eyes. 

“What I’m trying to say is, is that, well,” he finds himself tripping over his words, “I miss you. And I miss our friendship. And–...I miss having you around.” He glances down at his shoes, polished and reflecting off the moonlight directly above him. He rocks back and forth on his heels ever so slightly. “I know you said that I piss you off to lengths unimaginable to my tiny pea-sized brain, but I can’t help myself, y/n,” he admits, “I think you and I, we’re just meant to always be. In some how, or some way…”

You purse your lips together, gaze shifting lower to eye at the silk of his tie. 

“Can we be friends again?” he asks, the words feeling juvenile on his tongue. Like whispered apologies between children on a playground after shoving one another onto wooden chips, except the wounds he’s left on you run much deeper than a superficial scrape. 

You blink slowly, tilting your head up at him. “Friends?”

“Friends.”

You wipe your palm off on the satin of your dress. “I missed you too, you know.”

His eyes widened slightly.

Your hand finds its way up your arm, until you weakly cup your elbow with your palm and look off to the side, avoiding eye contact with him. “There were so many years where I thought that there was something between us. And maybe I was foolish for thinking that way, that you would ever see me that way–”

“y/n,” he tries to interrupt you. 

“But…the pain of not having you the way I wanted to was much less worse than the pain of not having you at all,” you say, your gaze finally shifting towards him. “But, the thing is, I needed to feel that pain to get over you. I had to.”

His heart stills at those words.

You glance down at the ground now. “I missed being able to tell you things. To laugh, and cry, and argue. I miss humbling your stupid ego. I miss being able to call you at any time, knowing you’d pick up when I needed you.”

His heart aches so much he wants to reach into his chest and hold it.

“The thing is,” you continue, “you would’ve been the first person I would’ve run to to tell them that I lost my best friend.” There were tears shining in your eyes. “But what could I do when you were the one that I had lost? Who could I have turned to then?”

He lets out a shaky breath, and in a swift motion, his arm wraps around your waist and he pulls you to him in an embrace.

You’re stiff in his hold, mechanical and rigid, so contrary to the soft tears you leave behind on the fabric of his sleeve, but slowly and surely, you warm and thaw. Your hands slide up past his shoulders, linking behind his neck. And his head drops to the curve of your neck, swaying you with him slowly as if it were a first dance.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, “for hurting you.”

You breathe out slowly. “Just let me go, Satoru. Let me be free. Let me be free of you.”

He feels the air knock out of his lungs, and the two of you slowly pull your heads away from the embrace to look at one another, although your hands still find a place on his shoulders, and he still holds you close to him by a delicate hold of your waist. 

He wonders if in another life, you two were happy. He wonders if he could ever take back all the decisions he made, and start all over again. On that day the two of you met on that staircase in the west wing of the literature building, he would make a different choice. If he could, he would live in this lifetime of hell over and over again if it meant that in some other one, there exists a world where he never hurts you. 

“It’s time for me to go,” you whisper, eyes darting across the features of his face, studying them but with a familiarity that only you know, because you held his entire life in your palm. Your gaze meets his again, faces just inches apart, and the sweet curl of your eyelashes makes him weak in the knees. “It’s time.”

He nods slowly, his own eyes studying your face as well, except it looks foreign to him now. 

It’s all been said and done. There was nothing he could do to right the wrongs, or undo all the pain. He was to be a father now, and his duties were now towards his wife and unborn child. And no longer to the woman he holds in his arms, one he’s sure he will never stop loving for as long as he lives. 

It’s a sweet moment, the two of you gazing at one another. You look so pretty from this angle, looking up at him with the smallest tilt to your head and round searching eyes. His head subconsciously dips down towards yours in the second that he glances at your lips, but he stops himself. And when you make no move to create distance, he finds himself closing it again, until his lips brush against yours ever so softly. And then he captures them in a kiss, firm and unmistaken, finding solace in the way your lips move against his too, unsure yet passionately at the same time. Your fingers ever so slightly dig into his shoulders while his thumbs soothe at the skin of your waist, the two of you savoring the last moments of a kiss that’ll be the sweetest one you’ll ever know.

You pull away first, a small puff of air leaving your lips as you glance downwards. He rests his forehead against yours, never once looking away from your face. And you both breathe slowly, the soul of the chaste kiss entirely vanishing into the air along with all the hope that the two of you had left to make anything of the way you feel about one another. It was a kiss that almost disqualified any level of sin or guilt or wrong, because it was like one you two owed each other, after years of familiarity and longing. It was the goodbye that the two of you deserved.

His hands slowly let go of your waist, and he takes a step back away from you, softly clearing his throat. The distance feels like a galaxy away, and he briefly runs his thumb along his bottom lip, because the ghostly feeling of your lips on his still remains. 

“Shall we head back?” you ask him, prim and proper in posture and eyes widened in a formal gaze.

His lips are parted, and he finds that he’s panting slightly. And then he slowly nods his head. “Yes.”

.

.

.

[the end] 

a/n. i am sooooo freaking obsessed w "one day" by david nicholls and really wanted to write something inspired by it!! the book literally ripped my heart out and stomped on it like there were so many scenes where i just longingly stared out the window because of how shattering it was but dear god i really enjoyed it, and the show was also so dfkjhsfkhs i had sm feels watching it. so yea this was fun to write!! i hope you enjoyedd n thanks so much for reading :)

➸ masterlist

[heartsfromia]

knight in shining armor — j. wonwoo

pairing: non-idol! wonwoo x f!reader

word count: 7,350

genre: fluff, angst, mild crack, college setting

warnings: cheating (not wonwoo tho our boy is sweet, it's reader's shitty ex), curse words, implicit violence (black eyes, cuts on lips mentioned)

author's notes: y'all pray that one day i have the energy to proofread my works ;_____; BRO I STG I WORKED ON THIS FOR OVER THREE MONTHS AND IDK HOW IT GOT SOOO LONG T___________T

“Hey, I’m planning on finishing my paper for International Law in Holly’s, come with me?”

With your hands intertwined with your boyfriend, Hanwoo, the two of you walked towards the parking lot by your university, just having finished a class together. You were hoping to spend some time together since Hanwoo had been preoccupied with the major association he’s a member in, as the collegial organization is holding its elections in the next week and he had been approached to help out as a committee member. Since the two of you have the same classes together, and the paper was due next Monday (it being a Thursday now), you thought you could get, at least the introduction down, while having some quality time in the 24 hour café with your boyfriend of six months.

“We’ll be there all night and you can distract me from my paper and I will do the same to you, and then we can down a ton of caffeine before passing out on the bean bags they have,” you tried to convince him, leaning into his side as you two approached his car. “And then we can go home and talk about how we should’ve finished our paper, plan another night in Holly’s and do it all over again!”

“Although that does sound tempting,” Hanwoo began, releasing your hand to reach for the car keys and unlocked the doors. He leaned down to be eye-level with you, as his hand reached for the door handle of the passenger seat, he uttered, “But, I have a meeting later tonight.” Pressing a quick kiss to your cheek, he pulled your door open and stepped aside enter the car. A pout found its way to your lips, pulling your favorite move to get what you want, but he wasn’t budging and only nodded his head for you to climb in.

“What meeting?” You asked once he climbed into the driver’s seat, pulling the car out of the parking lot and on your way to your house to drop you off.

“The election, since Monday evening will be the debate between president and vice president candidates, so we need to discuss the topics of the debate, all the technical stuff tonight,” he explained, “we’re planning on pushing a lot we need done between today and tomorrow, so we can have the weekends free and do finishing touches on Monday.”

“Ahh, being Event Organizer really isn’t easy… so you’ll be busy today, and tomorrow?” He only nodded, briefly sending a small smile her direction. “Alright, then, I’ll just see if Wonwoo is free tonight.”

Hanwoo threw his head back, asking, “Isn’t Wonwoo a Computer Science major?”

“Yeah, but he’s really good at research so I think he can help.” Hanwoo didn’t bother asking more, turning the music up to let it fill the silence as you arrived by the driveway of your house. “Good luck on your paper, yeah? Don’t drink too much coffee.”

“No promises,” you responded before kissing his cheek and climbing out his car. You waved him off, watching as the car disappeared in the distance before turning to head inside and up to your room just left of the entryway. Tossing your bag on your chair, you flopped on to your bed, too mentally exhausted from the three lectures today to even change your clothes, feeling sleep begin to fog your head. You were on the edge of dreamland when you heard a clink, then a few seconds later another one, and then another one, and it seemed to be never ending before you pulled yourself out of your drowsiness and headed to your window—which just so happened to be adjacent to your next door neighbor, Wonwoo’s window.

“You seriously need to reconsider throwing rocks at my window before you shatter it, Wonwoo.” Your neighbor only chuckled, so you took this as an opportunity. “Hey, can you come with to Holly’s? I’m planning to stay overnight there.”

“What for?”

“I’m holding an executive meeting for us to discuss a ten-step plan to overthrow our government,” you grinned, and he pondered, tapping his chin lightly before shaking his head.

“I can’t overthrow the government yet, I have a quiz tomorrow.”

You rolled your eyes, a soft laugh escaping your lips. You could always count Wonwoo to go along with your poor attempts at sarcasm. “I have a paper to work on and I don’t want to be alone.”

“Where’s your boyfriend? What’s his name? Yohan?”

“So close! It’s Hanwoo,” you retorted with a deadpan as you reminded him of your boyfriend’s name. Wonwoo hasn’t been discreet in his distaste towards your boyfriend—it’s been six months since he asked you out, and it’s been six months of Wonwoo never remembering his name. “He has a meeting today since the upcoming election debate for my major’s organization.”

“Is he running or…?” Wonwoo asked, despite his lack of interest with the topic.

“No, he’s the EO, and will be occupied for the next couple of days.”

“Aah, so I’m a back-up to you? Got it.” You knew he was being sarcastic, it was a running joke between the two of you since splitting when choosing college majors—you had done the same when he asked you to accompany him to watch a movie he really wanted to see, only to find out he came to you because friends from his major were busy.

“Do you want to come with me or not?” You asked again, “you don’t need to if you don’t want to.”

“What time?” Wonwoo asked, not hesitating. “Eomma is making dinner tonight, and asked me to ask you to join in case your parents are working late.”

You turn briefly, listening in to your parent’s room across from yours and can hear the muffle conversation behind the walls. “I think they’re home, but knowing my dad, he won’t be cooking so I think all three of us can head over to your place for dinner?”

“Sure, I’ll tell Eomma,” Wonwoo informed, “so after dinner then, we can go? Did you ask your parents for permission to spend the night working on the assignment.”

Dread immediately washed over you, colour draining from your face and to your feet as you remembered you haven’t asked permission from your parents, especially your dad who isn’t fond of you working long hours for an assignment you could’ve finished from when it was assigned. Force habit, dad, it’s not my fault you raised a chronic procrastinator, you couldn’t help but think. An innocent chuckle left your lips as you pulled your signature puppy-dog eyes to Wonwoo, who—without you having to utter a single word—understood what you were doing.

He heaved a heavy sigh, closing his eyes as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fine, I’ll ask them.”

“You are the best! Did you know that you’re the best person I’ve ever met? You’re absolutely awesome, smart and so, so, so kind, Wonwoo!” You blew a kiss in his direction, like how you watched Sunjae in Lovely Runner do so. “Love you!”

He waved your exaggerated gestures off, ignoring the heat forming in his cheeks and spreading to his ears, as he turned away, yelling back at you, “Yeah, yeah, just hurry up, I want to get this over with.”

“When do you think International Humanitarian Law is applicable?” You turned to Wonwoo after reading (re: skimming) a journal regarding the topic for your paper. Despite having only been studying the material for about twenty minutes, you could feel yourself losing it by the second. You didn’t hate International Law, but you always thought that the professor assigned too much reading, and is so strict about the entire paper itself—specifically using APA style, it has to only be footnotes (no in-line citations, despite that being the easiest in your opinion and you always preferred Chicago over any other reference style).

Oh, and the International Law professor is biased and lowkey a bitch.

So, being reluctant to work on an assignment given by your major’s most disliked professor wasn’t a priority even with the deadline closing in.

“During world conflicts?” You and Wonwoo stared at each other briefly, before you nodded, “That is true.” Wonwoo stifled a laugh. Seeing you look so drained and empty every single time you worked on an assignment, never failed to make him laugh. He enjoyed accompanying you, and despite the different majors and study programs you both have, he always tried to make sure he is more help than company. Even though you never really wanted to help you work on the assignment, knowing he has his own to deal with as a Computer Science major, but he’s well aware of your habits that even if the due date is Monday and you are working on it right now, you won’t completely finish it until Sunday, if not with Wonwoo’s aid.

“What’s the paper about?”

“The application of International Humanitarian Law in a specific study case,” you responded, tone flat. The more you talked about it, the more your soul was being sucked into the void. “I chose the Femicides in El Salvador.”

“Alright.” Was all Wonwoo said before he opened Google Scholar and began his own little research.

“Wonwoo, you don’t have to—”

“Y/N?” Cut off mid-sentence, you and Wonwoo turned to find Joy approaching your table, her hair tied and a lanyard around her neck, she must’ve just gotten back from campus.

“Joy? Hi, what are you doing here?” You smiled, internally sighing in relief because you had a reason to not look at the journal you were reading of femicide reports in the past decade.

“I just came back from an internal meeting with the EO’s for the upcoming debate,” Joy responded, noticing Wonwoo and waving at him. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m working on Michelle’s paper,” you answered, exaggerating the slouch in your shoulders and pout in your lips. You then realized, sitting up straight, head cocked to the side with your brows furrowed. “Wait, you’re an EO for the debate?”

Joy pulled a chair to sit across from you, resting her arms on the table and nodded.

“So you were with Hanwoo?”

It was her turn to furrow her brows. “Your boyfriend?” You nodded, and she shook her head. “No I wasn’t.”

“What? But he told me he was having a meeting with the EO’s for the debate, maybe you didn’t see them?”

The crease between your friend’s brow only deepened. “Y/N, the EO’s are only four people, not including the PIC—I’ve also met them all, and Hanwoo isn’t a part of us.”

“That’s weird,” you muttered. Did your boyfriend lie?

“Maybe he got his position switched? Maybe he’s not an EO? You could try asking tomorrow,” Joy tried to reason, and you only nodded. Hanwoo had been telling you that he was an EO for the past couple of weeks, ever since the announcement of election was released for the major association. He explained to you in great detail what the position would entail, and well, frankly speaking, you trusted him. It tugged at your chest at the possibility he might’ve lied to you.

And Wonwoo can see it. The deep glare in your eyes as you stared at the article you were reading, but you weren’t actually reading the reports from representatives of the El Salvadoran government, instead you were reading into the situation with your boyfriend. Gears were turning in your head, making connections, coming up with excuses as to why he had chosen to lie to you about something as trifling as his position in a collegial committee. He could tell that no matter how many paragraphs you read, how many relative research articles you pulled up from the internet, nothing will allow you to progress in your paper until the nagging feeling of your fibbing boyfriend is at ease.

“Y/N, do you want to head back home, call it a night?” Wonwoo asked, before quickly raising his phone, “My brother just sent me a text, that he needs the car early tomorrow morning.”

“Oh, yeah sure, let me just pay—”

“You pack up, I’ll pay for our food.”

You knew that he knew. Your lips pressed into a tight smile, “Thanks, Won.” He nodded, returning your smile before heading to the counter.

“Should we continue tomorrow night, then?” Joy asked. You nodded. “Sure,” then added, “depends though.”

On whether or not your boyfriend is lying.

“Wonwoo, do you have notes from Beom’s class? Last weeks’?” Seungcheol sat across from Wonwoo in the cafeteria, picking up a fry from Wonwoo’s plate and tossing it into his mouth. Wonwoo merely stared at his friend, unamused by his lack of manners, causing Seungcheol to chuckle.

“You know I do, Cheol, but why should I give it to you?” Wonwoo asked, his baritone voice holding a twinge of sarcasm, still upset by Seungcheol’s unwarranted act of property theft.

“Who says I want them?” Seungcheol turns away, flustered that Wonwoo caught on too quickly to his motive.

Wonwoo shrugs, and continues eating his lunch. “Alright then.”

“Can you email them to me?” An innocent, close-lipped smile etched across Seungcheol’s face, his dimple deepening as he clasped his hands together, pulling the same trick as Y/N usually does to get what they want.

“Stop that, I already get enough of puppy-eyes from Y/N,” grunted Wonwoo, rolling his eyes. “I’ll send them tonight, just send me a reminder.”

“Great, thanks, man.” Wonwoo expected him to leave, allowing for Wonwoo to spend the rest of his lunch alone before he heads to his next class, but Seungcheol stayed put, eyes on his phone. Not feeling like making any conversation, Wonwoo shrugged it off and continued eating. That is, until Seungcheol spoke up again, asking, “Hey, doesn’t Y/N have a boyfriend?”

Wonwoo couldn’t help the heat that rose at the back of his neck. “Yeah, why?”

“Isn’t it that Hanwoo guy?” Wonwoo nodded, but Seungcheol only looked even more perplexed. “They’re still going out?”

“Yeah…” Wonwoo confirmed, but the question only made his curiosity grow. Why did Seungcheol look so surprised? “Why?”

“It’s just… I mean, if you say they’re still together then it might not be- I must’ve made a mistake,” Seungcheol tried to change the subject but Wonwoo wasn’t going to let him do so.

“Tell me what you’re talking about or you won’t get Beom’s notes,” Wonwoo threatened, earning a look of genuine offense from Seungcheol, whom briefly rose a brow, a bit unconvinced. “I’m serious, Cheol.”

“Ass,” he muttered, before shaking his head, “Nah, it’s just… last night I saw a guy pick up my neighbor from across the courtyard, and I thought he looked a lot like Hanwoo.” Wonwoo’s eyebrow rose in suspicion, Seungcheol spotting it. “But if you say they’re still going out, then it must’ve been someone else.”

“What do you mean?”

“Any guy would be stupid to cheat on Y/N, especially since she’s your best friend and all.”

That only made him more confused. “Why would you say that?”

“It’s not like you’d let anyone hurt her, Won,” Seungcheol retorted, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world (it was), “and Hanwoo would be a huge dumbass if he even thought of cheating on her.”

Even though Seungcheol was right, Wonwoo wasn’t convinced—Hanwoo had a meeting last night when they were at Holly’s but Joy confirmed that he wasn’t even a part of the EO committee.

“Are you sure it wasn’t him?” He tried to make sure.

“I mean, it was dark and I wasn’t wearing my glasses so it was a bit blurry—all-in-all I would say 50%, either he was or he wasn’t,” Seungcheol explained, being no help to Wonwoo’s growing suspicion of your boyfriend.

“I’ve gotta go,” Wonwoo uttered, standing and packing his things, tossing his backpack over his shoulder.

“Where are you go- class is that way!” Wonwoo paid no mind to his friend as he continued walking towards the parking lot. However, he could hear Seungcheol as he was almost out of earshot, “Y/N, your knight in shining armor is on his way.”

The corner of Wonwoo’s lips quirked up. “I’m not sending the notes then!”

“Oh, come on, man!”

He couldn’t wait any longer. Suspicions and of course, anger, only grew the more steps he took towards his car, knowing the destination was you. If what Seungcheol said is true and he did, in fact, see Hanwoo with another girl, then that means he’s openly seeing someone else behind your back.

His hand reached for his phone, sparing quick glances between the screen and where he was walking as his fingers swiped for your contact, immediately dialing. Pressing the phone to his ear, he let his other hand pull out his car keys and unlock the door just as the line started ringing.

You picked up after two rings.

“Wonwoo? What’s with the sudden phone call?”

“Where are you?” He waited in the front seat, keys dangling from the ignition. Your answer would decide whether he starts the car or not.

“In the cafeteria near the engineering majors, why?”

“Are you with Hanwoo?” You were taken aback by his question, not because of what he asked, but by the fact that he got your boyfriend’s name right.

“Yeah, I am… Why?”

His shoulders sunk with your confirmation. “Just… just checking, sorry to bother you guys.” You muttered something that he didn’t catch before he hung up, exhaling a heavy sigh. Maybe it was paranoia. He had known you since you both were in middle school, of course he was protective over you, like every friend out there, he never wants you to get hurt.

Little did he know that as you put down your phone, a grimace had taken over your features as you looked at Joy.

“What did Wonwoo ask?”

You wanted to tell her the truth, but even you couldn’t wrap your head around the obvious that was happening. Wonwoo thinks you’re with Hanwoo, but you’re not and Joy’s tip about your boyfriend never having been involved in the election committee—you knew, and if your best friend had asked and even remembered Hanwoo’s name, then that must mean he knows, too.

“If I was with you,” you answered before her suspicion grew. “He wanted to check if I was up for lunch with him, but I’m with you already.”

“Ah… I think it’s good that he isn’t here,” Joy prefaced, pulling her phone out. “Do you remember I use to be a student supervisor for our major’s freshman camp?”

“Yeah, why?”

“So, I follow most of the kids that were in my group, right? And I was scrolling through my Instagram stories when you were buying lunch, and then—“ Joy scrolled through the following list of her account, stopping her explanation as she found who she was looking for. “—I think it’s better if you see for yourself.”

She slid her phone face-up to you, an Instagram story of a junior you didn’t know of was opened. The picture wasn’t revealing much of anything that seemed of significance to you, just a photo of her holding hands with a guy and it was posted in her Close Friends—most likely an attempt at soft-launching her boyfriend.

For a moment you were confused, then you spotted it—the username. It was Hanwoo's Instagram account. Dread grew at the back of your head as your brain couldn't grasp on to this fact, even exiting out of the story and searching for his username, hoping it was one letter off and your suspicions would be wrong, but unfortunately, that wasn’t the case and both the username in the girl’s post and his username were the same.

“I’m sorry, Y/N…” Joy uttered, in hopes to break the silence and tension that was building, but it was to no avail. Your throat tightened, and tears burned in your eyes, but you knew they weren’t from sadness, or heartbreak even, you were furious.

The audacity this piece of shit has to think he can cheat on me? You locked Joy’s phone, sliding it back to her before picking up your things and standing from the table.

“Where are you going?” Her eyes were filled with genuine concern, worried that you were a ticking time bomb, just waiting to blow up at the worse time.

You sent her a reassuring smile, and shrugged. “Where else? To plan my revenge on him, of course.”

Wonwoo thought he was hearing things. As he paused his game, he waited and listened for a moment before shrugging, chalking it off to probably a feature in the game he never noticed.

Clink!

That couldn’t have been a feature in the game, he was breaking wood—a clinking sound against glass doesn’t seem like something you’d hear while hitting a tree repeatedly in Minecraft.

He removed his earphones this time, waiting for the sound again, and when he did, he stood and walked to his window, finding you standing outside his window.

“Finally, oh my God!” you groaned, rolling your eyes. “Do you know how many pebbles I had to look for to throw at your window?”

Wonwoo’s eyebrows bunched together as he stared at you dumbfounded. “Why did you need to throw pebbles, we’re ground level. You could’ve just knocked.”

“That wouldn’t be so romantic, now would it?”

Wonwoo rolled his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose as he heaved a heavy sigh. “You’ve got to stop sneaking around like this, though, people are going to think you’re a burglar.”

“Whatever, Won,” you waved him off. “I need your help.”

“With what?”

“I—“ You paused. The fact that Hanwoo is actively cheating on you, probably even at this very moment, felt almost surreal to you, but ever since Joy showed you the picture, you’ve (to some extent) came to terms with it—there were signs after all, signs you chose to ignore or were so subtle, they flew over your head. However, coming to the realization that you’ve been cheated on felt easier than to utter it out loud—it felt more like a confirmation, that once the words were spoken out into the universe, it confirmed you were too blind in love to see the fact that he played you like a violin.

And it felt worse to admit to Wonwoo that his suspicions of your boyfr— ex-boyfriend being a douchebag were right.

“I need your help to trash Hanwoo’s car tonight, he’s at a friend’s house and left his car by his apartment.” Might as well hold off telling the truth until after you’ve released your anger.

Wonwoo could see you were holding something back, and by your proposition, making a guess as to why you did so, was easy.

“I’m not going to ask, but I will need you to explain later.” You subconsciously thanked him for not asking for a reason to your borderline act of vandalism. “Come around to the garage, I think I have a baseball bat from when I played little league.”

Ignoring the last bit of Wonwoo’s childhood anecdote, you watched as he left his room before taking the route to circle towards the front of his house where the garage was. You heard a lock turn and a bar slide before door opened, revealing Wonwoo, nodding his head to follow him.

“Do you, like, a Swiss Army knife or something sharp?”

“I think my dad has one his tool box, let me check,” he says, then points to shelf behind the car. “You can check there for the baseball bat.”

“Alright.”

Once the equipments were prepared—consisting of Wonwoo’s baseball ball, his dad’s Swiss Army knife, and your dad’s spray paint from one of his furniture restoration projects—you were all set to get back at Hanwoo. You both tossed them into the back of his car, climbing in and Wonwoo started up for Hanwoo’s apartment.

“And how do you know he left his car?” Wonwoo asked after three minutes of complete silence (AUX cord was broken and nothing that could fit a drive to vandalize your ex’s car was on the radio).

“Because I texted him earlier, asking if he could drive me to the store because there was a book I needed to get, and he explained to me that he was at a friend’s house and left his car,” you explained, your tone flat throughout as you mindlessly played with the zipper of your hoodie.

“And you’re sure he’s with friends?” He asked, his tone cautious, as he watched you freeze briefly.

You weren’t sure. Instead of admitting that, you chuckled, “He wouldn’t be with his girlfriend without a car.”

Despite your efforts at breaking the ice, Wonwoo wasn’t able to laugh at your joke, and only you could muster a dry chuckle before leaning back, turning to face the window.

You seemed to float throughout—as if watching yourself in a third person point of view, almost numb to the fact that you were on your way to ruin your ex’s car. It wasn’t that you were in denial that he is cheating on you, you refused to believe it was happening to you. You always felt that you were doing so much, showing him so much love, prioritizing him when he needed, never doubting that you felt the same way for you.

What did I do wrong? What about me wasn’t enough?

You hated those thoughts that began flooding your head. You hated those doubts. You hated that because of what he did, you’re blaming yourself—making it seem that you were the one that wasn’t doing enough.

“Y/N?” Wonwoo’s baritone voice pulled you out of your self-loathing. “We’re here.”

“Oh, you remembered the way,” you finally took note of him never asking you directions throughout the drive.

“Unfortunately.” You couldn’t help but laugh at his snide comment. Looking out to his side of the window, you see Hanwoo’s white range rover. You knew he cherished it—making sure to get the oil changed routinely, weekly car washes and having it waxed monthly. In retrospect, he probably loved the car more than he did you.

Maybe destroying he loved could make you feel less shitty.

“Let’s go—“ Before you could climb out, Wonwoo grabbed your wrist, stopping you.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Y/N?”

Again, the truth choked you. As you stared at Wonwoo, the concern laced all over his features, it felt the question should’ve triggered a flood gate to open, but alas, you persist. I need to not use poor humor as a coping mechanism. You cocked your head to the side, the corner of your lips lifted. “Why? I honestly thought you’d be the most excited of us to trash his car, Won?”

Of course, being your best friend since middle school, he saw right through your façade.

His hand moved from your wrist to clasp your hands, wrapping his fingers around yours. “Just promise you’ll talk to me, yeah?”

The bile rose, once again, urging you to cough out the truth. Knowing well enough you wouldn’t be able to utter anything without your words breaking, you nodded and sent a stiff smile.

As you stood near Hanwoo’s car, looking through the window of his vehicle, memories of the two of you seated side-by-side there came flooding in. How when you would go to a drive-thru for late night snack runs, the way you reached over the console with a fry and feeding it to him as his eyes focused on the road. When you’d pull over into a parking lot, your legs stretched over to rest over his lap as the two of you talked about everything and nothing at all, or when he would purposely make wrong turns just so you would spend more time with each other when he was supposed to drop you home.

Moments that you held so close to your heart, now worth nothing in a blink of an eye.

You squeezed your eyes shut, urging the tears to fall back and return to their sockets, inhaling a deep breath and pushing it out almost immediately as you flipped the knife to one of its sharpest options and pressing the point to the driver’s door. There’s no backing out now. You let the knife drag itself across the paint, a ragged line following your hand as you made your lap around his car.

Now, there really wasn’t going back now.

Before you could hold yourself back, your arm extended back and punctured one of the tyres—then one became two, and then three. Air spewing out of three of the tyres filled the tension around you, and you found yourself breathless. Breathless because you were angry. Breathless because you were hurt. The tears had escaped, creating warm trails down your cheeks.

“Give me the bat,” you urged, glaring at him with bloodshot eyes and wet cheeks.

“Y/N—“

“Wonwoo,” you pressed, “it’s either you give me the bat, or you go home—I’m going to do this whether you agree with it or not.”

Wonwoo shouldn’t even be against what you’re doing right now. He’s obviously on your side when it comes to this, Hanwoo deserves getting his car destroyed for hurting, manipulating and thinking he could go behind your back this way. However, the more logical and law-abiding side of him is reluctant—especially since you’ve already slashed his tyres and ruined the paintwork, so breaking the windows seemed to cross the line.

“If we get arrested, just tell them I did it, alright?” Wonwoo uttered, handing you the bat and taking the knife with him. You smiled for the first time tonight, a genuine smile that reached your eyes as he said that. He then added, “I’ll get the spray paint—you do your thing.”

And after a bashed in windshield, a very poorly written “FUCKING CHEATER” was spray painted on all sides of the car and on the hood. You and Wonwoo drove away from the scene of the crime, driving to a nearest convenient store where Wonwoo hopped out, buying instant ramen, drinks and snacks, deciding to make a last-minute picnic in his car because in his words: “Vandalism works up an appetite.”

“They didn’t have the carbonara one, so I got you cheese.” Wonwoo returned in less than ten minutes, the noodles already boiled, only needing the seasonings. You smiled at him, mumbling a thanks as you took the cup noodles from him, tearing the seasoning and busying yourself with stirring, and continuously stirring, your eyes dazed off at the curly noodles as they spun in a faint orange mix.

“Y/N, I’m sure your noodles are well stirred,” Wonwoo commented, hoping to divert your attention. The leather beneath him squeaked as he adjusted his position, leaning his back against the door as he folded his knee under him, fully facing you at this point.

He called, “Hey.”

You lifted your head to meet his eyes, and immediately, Wonwoo straightened up, his jaws clenched and shoulders tensed. Tear stricken cheeks, bloodshot eyes and everso present frown evident in between your eyebrows and downturned lips.

“Y/N…” Wonwoo took the noodles from your hands, placing it on the dashboard and pulling you by the wrists, engulfing you into his arms, then there goes the floodgates—the emotions you locked away throughout the evening, released in that very second your face was against his shoulder.

While you were bawling, grieving the relationship that reigned to be good to be true, Wonwoo was hatching up his own revenge plan on the piece of shit.

The incessant ringing of your phone pulled you out of your slumber, and you knew for a fact it wasn’t your alarm, because one; you snoozed that ten times already, and two; it wasn’t your usual Radar tone.

Sliding the screen with one eye open, you placed it by your ear without seeing who it was.

“Hello—“

“WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO TO MY CAR, Y/N?!”

Well that was one way of waking you up. You sat up, slowly, taking your time with adjusting your position while Hanwoo was screaming on the other line. Once you were sitting up, you glanced at the screen—the name you had changed last night once you got back home displayed as ‘IGNORE’, in hopes that you would do so when he called you. But then again, you thought he’d call you when you were conscious.

“—Y/N FUCKING ANSWER ME!” Rolling your eyes, you heaved a sigh before placing the phone back by your ear.

“And to what do I owe—“

“You were you even fucking listening to me?“ Hanwoo snapped.

“No.” Your answer was simple, honest, and obviously uninterested with whatever he wanted to say. Was the modification that you made to his beloved vehicle not enough of an announcement that you knew what he was up to all this time?

“I was asking what the hell did you to my car?”

“Can’t you tell?” you teased, “I gave it a makeover.”

“You ruined my paint job and popped my tyres, what kind of makeover is this?”

“The kind that fits a cheater like you.” Silence. Complete silence came from the other side and if you listened closely, you could hear the static along with his ragged breathing knowing well enough he was caught. “Cat got your tongue, dude?”

“Y/N…”

“Save the sob story, we’re not dating, I don’t see why you’re fucking calling me other than to cry about your stupid car—“

“How about the fact that your fucker of a dog punched me?” He interjected.

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know what I mean, Y/N,” he scoffed, “it wasn’t enough to ruin my car, you had to send your dog to ruin my face too.”

It took you a second to realize he was talking about Wonwoo, which means that Wonwoo had punched his face.

Wonwoo punching someone in the face? That wasn’t something you had heard before, nor expected. The image itself was enough to cause you to burst out laughing, your phone falling from your hands, leaving Hanwoo confused and annoyed.

The idea that Wonwoo would go as far as to punch someone was such an unrealistic accusation Hanwoo had made, but nonetheless, had successfully made you laugh after a long night of crying yourself to sleep.

“Are you done?” Hanwoo asked once you placed the phone back to your ear after your laughing fit.

“Wasn’t enough for you to lie about your relationship all this time, now you want to lie and accuse Wonwoo of something he’d never do,” you defended, scoffing at his poor attempt.

“I’m not lying about this, Y/N!”

“So, you admit that you were lying about our relationship?” This time you interjected, wanting to hear him confirm it. It was mostly due to that nagging voice at the back of your head that still doubted what Joy had shown you, that the picture was friendly and not romantic.

It was so pathetic how even after everything, there was a sliver in you that hoped he would deny it.

“Y/N- let me explain—“ In other words: ‘I was, but you haven’t heard my reason’.

“Fuck off, Hanwoo, don’t ever call me again,” you warned, “and if I hear you spread bullshit about Wonwoo like you did just now, it’ll be more than just your car that I ruin. Bye.”

He managed to slip something before you got the chance to hang up. “What about my fucking eye, Y/N?”

“Why don’t you ask Gia to help you with that?” Grateful to have the last word, you hung up immediately, tossing your phone to the side. The phone call wasn’t closure, but it was enough to put those indenial thoughts to rest.

Wonwoo punched him? The thought wouldn’t leave your head as you got ready for the day. Trying to imagine Wonwoo walking up to Hanwoo and giving him a black eye wasn’t something you could see him doing. Besides that, when did Wonwoo get the time to punch Hanwoo if he did? He ended up driving you home around three in the morning, and it was past six now, meaning he had a three hour window.

Unless…

No, that would mean after dropping you off, he had stormed straight to wherever Hanwoo was just to punch him.

You had to make sure, even if it was hard to believe, you had to make sure Wonwoo was okay. As long as you’ve been friends, you’ve never seen him get into any physical altercations with anyone, and if it did happen, it might be possible that Hanwoo wouldn’t have let him walk away unscathed.

Your legs carried you to his house, to his front door and after greeting his parents, to his bedroom door. You knocked, listening in to hear rummaging noises, as if he was panicking.

“Wait, Eomma, I just finished showering—“ He called out from the other side, which you found odd because you knew him, he wouldn’t even be awake at this hour.

“Wonwoo, it’s me.”

The noise on the other side of the door paused for a moment, before Wonwoo called out. “Y/N?”

“Yes, can you open the door?” You asked, waiting for it to swing open but it didn’t.

“No, I’m- uh, I’m watching something, you don’t need to see it,” Wonwoo tried to think of an excuse but cursed at himself because why the hell did that come out instead? You, on the other hand, found his obvious panic hilarious, his excuse eliciting a chuckle.

“I know you met with Hanwoo,” you informed him, making sure to keep your voice down so his parents wouldn’t hear. “So, can you please open the door and let me check the damage?”

You waited a few minutes, hearing him toss a few things away, the noise causing your brows to furrow. The lock turned and the door swung enough for you to squeeze yourself in, knowing well enough that Wonwoo wasn’t about to reveal himself in fear his parents would see (they wouldn’t have, they were on the other side of the house, he was just paranoid). Once you were in, he pushed the door closed, his back against it and you could see what damage Hanwoo had done to your next door neighbour.

It wasn’t bad, admittedly you thought it’d be worse considering his lack of experience.

It was a scratch and bruising surrounding his left cheek, that was most caused by a ring Hanwoo was wearing, but other than that, and a tear in his lip, that was all he took.

“I honestly thought you’d look worse,” you thought out loud, Wonwoo’s brows furrowing at the comment.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

You shook your head, lightly laughing. “Nothing, do you have anything I can use to clean that?”

“Uh… I do, actually.” He dips to look on his bedside table. “Stopped by a drugstore after because I saw the blood.”

“And when did you get the time to pull it all off?”

“Well, after I dropped you off, I asked Seungcheol since he knows—“ Wonwoo stopped, realizing that this information wasn’t ever supposed to reach you. “Uhm… How did you know I was hurt?”

“Because a psychopath told me,” you informed, and his eyes darkened for a moment, rolling in annoyance.

“I told him to never bother you again,” he groaned, before his gaze softened as he turned to you. “Did he hurt you? Are you okay?”

“He just called my phone, I’m alright,” you reassured him. Taking a step towards him, your fingers gently touched the wound on his cheek, inspecting it. You could see that he didn’t tend to it once it started bleeding, evidence of dried blood surrounding the wound and there wasn’t any antiseptic used either to ensure an infection didn’t happen.

While you were playing nurse, Wonwoo became very aware of the lack of space between your face and his, and he had to hold his breath. It only worsened when your eyes darted to his, the two of you holding eye contact for what he thought was an eternity.

“Let me clean it up for you, Won,” you uttered, breaking the silence and eventually the tension as you turned to walk into his ensuite bathroom. He followed after trying to calm his heartbeat, finding you on top of his sink, soaking a cotton pad with antiseptic and tearing a bandaid from its package.

“Come here,” you urged. Wonwoo stood between your thighs, not wanting to meet your eyes, but you didn’t mind—almost finding him being flustered cute.

“Ow,” he winced when the antiseptic touched the wound after you had wiped it clean of the dried blood.

“It’s a small sting, stop being a baby,” you teased, earning a glare from him. “How come you only came out with this?”

“Got me at the last minute,” he answered.

“And how was he?” Your question was responded with an eyebrow raise instead, causing you to roll your eyes. “I don’t care about him, Won, I just want to know if it was worth it—if you, at least, are satisfied with this decision.”

The corner of his lips turned up, a smug look etched across his face as he answered, “It was. I hurt him enough to send the message and keep it with him for the next couple of weeks.”

“I never knew you could fight,” you said honestly.

“There’s a lot you still don’t know about me, Y/N,” he mumbled, but because of your close proximity, you heard it loud and clear. Before you ask further, he spoke up, “Have you had breakfast yet?”

“No, not yet.”

“After this we can have breakfast, I think my mom made doenjang jjigae,” he informed. You smiled, nodding, “Sure.” You finished tending to his wound by plastering on the Kuromi bandaid, teasing him about it, to which he used the ‘there wasn’t anything else’ excuse.

He grabbed your elbow as you hopped off his sink, the action caused you to stumble out of balance instead of helping, made you bump closer to him, his free arm automatically holding your waist.

Cue the eye contact and pink-tinted cheeks, the move could’ve made you laugh as if it was straight out of a cheesy rom-com, but you were too occupied with trying to think that you couldn’t do so. I’m heartbroken, I’m vulnerable and haven’t been feeling loved for the past week, this is just a fluke, you tried to rationalize the thoughts and your racing heart, knowing well what could work to get out of this.

You tapped his chest, gently pushing him. “Go shower, Wonwoo, you reek.”

“Shut up, I do not,” he protested, laughing to cover his shaky voice. He then added, “Thanks, Y/N, although you didn’t have to do all this.”

“And let you get an affection?” You retorted.

Wonwoo rolled his eyes, and without thinking he uttered, “A kiss would’ve sufficed.” It was too late for him to take back his words, noting your wide eyes and mouth slightly agape, his cheeks flushed when he realized what he had said. “Y/N, I wasn’t thinking—“

You pressed a kiss against cheek, beneath his bandage, shutting him completely. “Take it as a thank you for all you’ve done for me.”

It took him a second to compose himself, grinning, “I am your knight in shining armor, after all.”

You threw your head back in laughter. “Are you riding a horse, my knight?”

“Yes, a pink horse,” he answered, smiling endearingly down at you.

You frowned at his choice of color, “But you hate pink?”

“And you love pink.”

“Gosh, Wonwoo,” you flushed red, taking a step away from him, finding his comment both cringey and touching at the same time—it was shocking you could feel those two simultaneously. “When did you get so cheesy?”

He merely shrugged, a faint smirk on his lips. “I told you there was a lot you don’t know about me.”

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

first off, happy happy birthday to you!!!! Thank you for spoiling us on your birthday.

That being said, my heart is feeling angsty so I wanna request the prompt "Stop pretending that you care! We both know you don't." for a fem reader x Kid (NSFW)!

Again, happy birthday lovely! :3

Hello! @limitlesstildil thank you sooo much for your birthday wishes and for your awesome prompt! Now, I've taken some liberties with it, but I do hope you don't mind! It's now a three part fic of Highlander!Kid, sharing the spotlight with another prompt (to be seen in the last chapter). The NSFW part was pushed forward too, okay? I hope this is still okay! Thank you so much for participating! ❤️

Source for Pic

Mine to Protect

Word Count: 4969

Tags for the whole story: Highlander!Kid; Fem!Reader; Alternate Universe - Scotland 13th century; Gore; Blood; Violence; Death; Mild Angst; Fluff; Nudity; Cursing; Sexual Tension; Explicit Sexual Content; Protective!Kid; Possessive!Kid; Soft!Kid; Feral!Kid; Jealous!Kid; Happy Ending; Sort of Enemies to Lovers; Teasing; Banter; NSFW; MDNI; Mature Audiences;

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: Your father and his allied clans are at war, and you're a liability. When you're assigned a guard to protect you - against your will - you do everything in your power to infuriate him. The problem is that he can be more infuriating than you, as you're about to find out.

Notes: Okay... it's finally here! I coudn't hold out any longer. It turned out to be 16k words, so I've divided it in three (not equal parts because the splitting would be weird, obviously). I edited the first part and plan on editing the rest soon. I will have the entire fic out by the end of the week! Gosh... I'm very proud of this one, I do hope you enjoy, let me know!

Part 1 of 3

|Masterlist| | |Part 2| | |Part 3|

“I don't need a guard!” Your angered cry echoes down the halls of the keep, but the stationed guards at the entrance barely even flinch at your outburst since it’s a regular occurrence. 

You have been at odds with your father, the laird, since early morning and, as night approaches fast, he’s tired of arguing with you. But no matter how much you argue like a wild thing, plead as if he were a deity or present your arguments politely as a lady, he doesn’t budge.

“You need a guard!” Your father says with a firm growl of your name. “We are at war and you're an easy target, daughter!” You scoff, outraged at the insinuation. You might be a lady, but you know how to defend yourself and you’re a feisty creature. “I don't want to hear any more of what you have to say! Out with you! You'll meet your guard later.”

With a screech so loud it could make a banshee blush in embarrassment, you leave the chamber, stamping your feet like a bratty child, feeling much like one since, apparently, you need nannying. And, well, if you’re to be nannied like a baby, you might as well act like one, while you still can.

Passing by the kitchen, you grab a hemp sack and fill it with anything you can get your hands on: bread, fruit, salted meat and grains. It weighs like hell but you couldn't care less. You have a point to prove. 

You don’t need a guard. You can handle yourself.

Night falls quickly and you use the waning light of the sickle moon to guide your steps, the same ones you’ve taken since you were a child. The only difference is that now you’re facing wartime and the streets aren’t as safe as they used to be.

But the people need you and you won’t sit idly by while children starve.

-*-

He was supposed to introduce himself to you as soon as he arrived at the keep, but Kid likes to observe first, so he stuck to the shadows. Despite being big, bulky and muscular, he can move like one. When Kid spots you leaving the keep just as the moon appears in the sky, he realises you're going to be trouble. 

Kid’s sick and tired of being a nursemaid to stuck-up, entitled ladies who think they alone rule the world. Yet, here he is again, his body too broken to be a proper warrior, but not broken enough to be able to retire peacefully. 

With a heavy sigh and a curse, Kid follows you into town, all the while realising just how reckless you’re being with your actions. Your father hired him because of the war, which means nowhere is safe. Especially after nightfall. Especially if you’re a noble lady.

But you don’t seem to care.

He follows you around town while you knock on doors, delivering food and even some jewellery. He hasn’t even spoken to you and your actions are already intriguing him. He’s never met a noble lady who would willingly part with jewels, let alone give them to townspeople. 

Yet, he doesn’t let that cloud his judgement. You think you’re being inconspicuous as you parade around town wearing your expensive velvet cape, with an air about you that clearly states you’re regal. No town girl would have such perfectly braided hair, and fair skin, poised grace, and natural beauty, as well as an elegance to your movements. You’re a dead giveaway for who you are.

And that’s dangerous in these streets.

Tutting silently, Kid watches as you traverse a dark alleyway and, immediately, a group of brigands follows you, their eyes already glinting with greed and something else. Kid approaches, ready to intervene as he’s being paid to do. What he doesn’t expect, however, is the way you pull out two daggers from your thighs and start fending them off.

A grin pulls at the corner of his mouth as he realises you aren’t as defenceless as he thought you to be.

Slicing your way through the brigands, you manage to cut one on the arm and another across his torso, which only makes them more enraged, but Kid nods approvingly from the shadows. There’s more to you than just a pretty face. 

Then you make a mistake. You lose sight of the largest man in the group and he gets behind you, locking your arms and incapacitating you immediately. With a grunt, Kid pushes himself off the wall he was leaning on and grips his Lochaber axe with his good arm. Time to intervene.

It takes only the blink of an eye for him to reach you. His weak arm slams a punch to the jugular of the man pinning you, causing him to let go and fall to his knees, gasping for air. Pivoting, Kid slices another brigand with a swing of his long axe, his guts splashing to the floor with a sickening sound as the man screams himself into shock. With a thrust of the weapon, Kid immediately kills the remaining brigand by piercing his neck. 

He didn’t even break a sweat. 

“I’m not scared of you!” You say, breathing hard, pants escaping your parted lips and Kid can clearly see your fists trembling as you grip the handle of your blade. You mistook him for another brigand. Smirking, Kid takes one step forward and you gasp. “Don’t come any closer.” Your voice is firmer now, a hint of aggression in your words. Good. 

He still takes another step, and with a swing of the axe, he lunges. You shriek and tense up but open your eyes as soon as you hear another sickening slice and the unmistakable gargle of a man drowning in his own blood. Kid sliced the neck of the brigand who had pinned you at the beginning of the skirmish and was getting ready to run away.

“I said back away!” You lunge, place your foot wrong and throw your weight like an amateur. Kid scoffs and easily disarms you, raising an eyebrow as if asking if that’s all you’ve got. You huff and puff like a wild beast and lunge empty-handed this time, landing a punch on his chest which he barely feels. He chuckles again and you seethe, swinging again, trying to hit his jaw, but this time he stops your mid-air, twisting your body and pinning your arm behind your back.

“Yer swingin’ like ye’ve never thrown a proper punch, lass.”

-*-

You blush from the tips of your ears to your flaming cheeks as the man twists your arm further, making you wince. Who is he? He easily took down the brigands who attacked you, but he doesn’t look like a common thief. He moves like a warrior, even though his left arm seems slower and heavier. 

“Let me go!” You hiss, feeling his taut muscles press against your back.

“Ye did alright with the daggers, but there’s a lot to be said about yer footwork. Also…” His large, calloused hand reaches out as he pulls the hood of your cloak down, his fingers brushing against the skin of your neck. “If yer gonna walk the streets of a war-torn town at night, ya better do it dressin’ like a commoner, no’ a noble, aye, lass?”

The nerve!

“Who are you, trying to tell me what to do? Let me go, right now!” He twists your arm more, and your hiss turns into a groan, but you refuse to scream in pain. You’re not going to give him that satisfaction, though it almost feels like your arm is about to fall out of its socket. 

“Who am I?” He chuckles. “That’s rich. I’m the one who just saved yer spoiled ass from gettin’ robbed. Or worse, lassie.”

You lower yourself, sensing a slight give in your arm as he loosens his grip, and elbow him hard in the stomach as you manage to break free from his grasp, hearing him grunt slightly. “I didn’t ask for your help, you brute.” You take two steps back, swiftly scanning the floor, hoping to find your fallen dagger. Since you can’t locate it, you focus back on the enemy, and your eyes widen as you finally take a good look.

He’s huge. Tall, bulky and built like a warrior, full of scars. His eyes and his hair are what make your breath catch in your throat: they’re fiery red. 

“Ye did no’, but ye sure as hell needed it.” He grins and takes another step forward, just to see you falter. “I’m no’ gonna harm ya, lass. I’m yer new guard. Yer da hired me.” He picks up the dagger you’ve been looking for but missed and hands it to you, handle first, along with the one he took. “Eustass Kid, at yer service.” 

By the resigned sound of his voice, he’d much rather be anywhere else but here. You snatch the daggers from his hands with a scowl. You’d much rather he be anywhere else as well but, alas, here you both are. 

“I don’t need a guard.” You grimace as you manoeuvre around the dead bodies, your stomach already used to the stench of blood by now, walk around Kid, and out of the alley, not even bothering to see if he’s following you. 

But of course he is. How is he so silent when he’s built like an Angus?

“Ya sure about that, lass?” His voice is clipped and dripping with sarcasm which just makes you grit your teeth as you quicken your pace. “Seemed like ya needed one back there, nae?”

“I had it covered!” You snap back, hands balled into fists as you stomp your way back into the keep. 

“Aye, I saw. Maybe I should’ve let ya finish, then. Were ye gonna use yer witty words on them? Pray they let ya go just because ya have a sharp tongue?” He scoffs and you stop abruptly, pivoting with a finger in the air, your eyebrow raised high.

“I don’t appreciate the mockery, you don’t even know me.”

He leans down, his face inches from yours with that infuriating grin on his lips. “Aye, I know ya well enough tae paint a pretty picture, lass. Stubborn, reckless, proud.” His hand rises and he stabs a finger against your forehead, pushing you back with just the strength of that one digit. “Prancin’ around a war-torn town in fancy clothes, screamin’ yer noble and ready tae be robbed… aye, real smart, lass!”

You swat his hand away with the swing of your arm, growling as your temper flares. “You don’t know shit!”

“Ohhh.” He laughs, this time, a hearty laugh that sends a tingle down your spine. “Witty and foul-mouthed? What cannae that tongue do?”

“What am I supposed to do, then? Behave like a proper lady and stay in my keep, filling my belly while my people die of starvation? I don’t think so.” Crossing your arms over your chest, you raise your chin high, defying the infuriating man to say something else. 

“No’ what I’m sayin’, lass. But at least have some sense about it.” The grin fades and his voice hardens as he becomes serious. “There’s a war ragin’ and the street’s nae place for a noble woman. And there’s a difference between bravery and stupidity. Guess which one yer tippin’ on, right now?”

Is he serious? 

You don’t even grace that remark with a proper answer. There’s no use fighting with this man. You told your father you didn’t need a guard and he went and got you the most infuriating one of the lot!

Just my luck.

-*-

You’re so pissed that  you have a shadow following you everywhere, that you don’t leave your room for the next three days, hoping he gets bored and just leaves. 

He doesn’t.

On the fourth day you’re the one who’s bored so as the sun rises, so do you. You take your breakfast in peace, your guard nowhere to be seen because you’re in the keep where it’s safe. You can almost feel him as you walk around your own home. It’s a prickling at your nape, a sensation that makes you want to caress your neck. It tingles.

Days pass and you avoid making conversation with him at all costs. You keep running away from him, trying to evade his ever-present shadow, but you fail every time. More than once you think you finally did it, only to find him leaning against a wall –trademark, infuriating smirk in place– or for him to appear whenever you're about to be robbed. 

That is also why you now avoid going into town delivering food. The increase in attacks gives your guard the satisfaction of saving you and it only infuriates you. He shadows you everywhere, always wearing that smug smirk or his infinitely bored expression. He’s insufferable. 

The morning breaks like many others but you’re so frustrated you need to vent. So you pick up a sword and decide to take your anger out on the dummies in the courtyard. The sword feels heavy in your hands since you’re more used to daggers, but the recent attacks got you thinking that perhaps the gruff guard made a valid point. It’s wartime. Two measly daggers aren’t gonna save you. The sword might.

You start swinging, hitting the dummy but not making real damage, and then you sense him watching you. That damn prickling again, it’s like a pressing need at your nape. You let out a growl paired with a curse, and a bit of straw flies out of the dummy as you strike it again. 

“Ya swing that sword like yer holdin’ a broom.” You stop, take a deep breath and don’t turn around, going for the dummy again and trying your best to ignore the annoying prick. “Yer form’s all wrong.” He continues and so do you. Whack, whack. “That’s a good way tae get killed, lass.”

Pivoting around to face him, jaw clenched and knuckles white from gripping the sword, you show him your best leave me the fuck alone look. “If you have nothing useful to say, then stay quiet!”

“Feisty.” He replies with a chuckle and you grunt in exasperation. 

You give him a few more moments of your time, eyebrows raised in defiance as you wait for more remarks, but he raises his hands in the air and you turn your back to him, continuing your dummy slaughter. 

It doesn’t take long for him to speak again. “Yer still holdin’ it wrong. Yer gonna hurt yerself first before ye hurt someone else.” You sense him approaching but don’t turn. “But, aye, let’s just be stubborn as a mule, that also works.”

Your head whips back so fast you’re certain you pulled a muscle. “Are you calling me a mule?”

“Just sayin’ yer as stubborn as one.” He takes another step, his head leaning to the side as he observes you and you feel yourself flush under his gaze. “Yer too stiff, relax yer grip on the handle.”

“I didn’t ask for your advice.” You bite back, venom in your voice and fire in your eyes.

“Lucky ye, here I am offerin’ it just the same.”

“Screw you.” You mutter but still relax your grip on the handle as he says.

“Maybe later.” He grins as you scoff, then invades your space, his hands pushing your shoulders down, the touch sending a shock through your system. “I said relax, no’ stiffen more, lass.”

You shoot him a sideways glance but still do as he says, relaxing your shoulders and your hands. 

Then he nudges your feet with his own, spreading your legs into a wider stance. “Open yer legs wider for me lass, will ye? Now try again.” You flush crimson at the insinuation but still do as he says, though you keep grumbling. When you swing though, the hit actually cuts through the dummy and you gasp. “See? Yer actually capable.” You grin, a small smug smile curving your lips. “It’s no’ that yer a good student, I’m just a great teacher.”

And there goes your good mood.

“Insufferable.” You bite back.

“That too. But damn good.”

You stop your swing mid-air and turn to him, lifting your blade to his chest. “You know, maybe I should stop practising on dummies and start practising on you.” The smirk you give him is devious. 

“Ye cannae take me, lass.”

Glaring at him through lowered lashes, you raise your chin. “Try me.”

His eyes darken and the tingling sensation at your nape intensifies tenfold. You see him tense up but you don’t wait to see what he does next. You lunge forward, sword raised, relaxed grip and a wide stance –like he taught you just now– and he easily swings out of the way. 

With a frustrated grunt, you pivot to swing your sword to the left, where he dodged, and he evades you again, a small smirk tugging the corners of his lips. You suck a deep breath through your nose before letting it out slowly through your mouth, centering yourself. Then you swing again, leg planted firmly on the ground for support.

Kid hits your elbow from below, twisting your arm and disarms you with a quick flick of his hand –the sword clatters to the floor– then, in a second he has you in his grip, your back flushed against his chest, one of his hands at your throat and his other arm pinning you against him, rendering you immobile. 

Damn.

He’s intoxicating. His scent lingers everywhere and the warmth of his body against yours crackles and burns. 

“Yer easy.” He whispers against your ear and it’s a caress that travels down your neck, through your nipples and into your throbbing core. Fuck.

“Let me go.” Lacing your voice with authority doesn’t get you far, as your words fall empty and shaky. 

“Make me.” Your breath hitches and he chuckles, sending goosebumps down your neck. “Yer no’ as tough as you think, lass.” He’s well aware of the effect he’s having on your traitorous body, and he’s using it.

Two can play that game.

You turn your head to the side and tilt your chin up, your movements slightly constricted by the hand on your throat, and brush your lips against the exposed skin of his neck. “I’m not what?” Your hot breath fans his skin and you notice how it prickles before his jaw tightens and he loosens his hold. You use that opening to your advantage and shove him, taking a step away from him and almost gaining your freedom back –he doesn’t let you.

With a swift movement his arm envelops your waist and he pulls you to him again as you let out a frustrated groan. “It’s over, lass. Yer done.” There’s more gruffness in his voice now.

“I’m not done until I say I am.” You bite back, struggling to free yourself but he’s not even making an effort to hold you against him. 

“Yer stubborn.”

“Aye! We’ve established that already. It also means I’m tenacious!”

“Ya dinnae know when tae quit, nor when tae ask for help.” He twists you in his arms with surprising ease and now you’re facing him as he places his hands on your shoulders. “Ye need tae learn tae trust someone besides yerself.”

“Trust you?” You begin and thank the gods your voice is still stable.

“Aye. I’m here tae protect ya.”

You scoff and turn your eyes away from him, his words hitting too close to the mark, making you uncomfortable. You don’t need guards and you definitely don’t need Eustass Kid as your guard. 

“You’re the last person I would trust.”

Kid removes his hands from your shoulders and takes a step back. His jaw ticks and clenches as he nods. 

“Understandable. I’ll be around, anyway, lass.”

He turns to leave and your body suddenly feels cold, though it’s still tingling from the earlier blaze. His words hang heavy in the air around you. Trust. How can you trust somebody other than yourself if you’ve been doing that your whole life?

-*-

Weeks pass and you’re getting more used to Kid being your shadow. You fight like cats and dogs. He’s insufferable and you’re, in his words, a brat. No accidents have happened while you deliver food and money to the surrounding towns, but you know that’s because nobody dares to attack you while Kid is around. His imposing figure is threat enough for any brigand who wishes to rob you. 

You train a few more times with him watching but he doesn’t give you any more pointers and you start to think that maybe it was your trust comment that got him angry at you. 

Like I care.

You try to fool yourself, but you do care. He’s not the best company but he’s not the worst. If you take away the amused snickers, the mocking undertones in his words, or his gruffness, he’s perfectly tolerable. Though he gets under your skin like no one else.

That, and the tingling sensation that doesn’t seem to go away. To add to it, there’s also a throbbing of need in your core that nights alone, pleasuring yourself, cannot push away. You hate the fact that you loathe your guard almost as much as you desire him, and that alone drives you insane. You're hyper-aware of the way his muscles flex as he moves, the grunts he releases when he exerts himself and his strong scent of steel, sweat and leather. Even worse, all you can think about is how those muscles would flex as he handles your body, or how his grunts would sound as he sinks deep into you and how you'd be smelling him on yourself afterwards. It's overwhelming. 

There's the heat and throbbing again, at your core, in your nipples, everywhere! Fuck. 

“Lass?” His voice near your ear almost releases an unbridled moan from you, since you were lost in thought, so you groan and get up from the dining table where you were reading some letters, stomping your foot. 

“I’m going to bed!”

You don’t even look back at him. 

-*-

You retired early but sleep doesn't come easily. You overheard your father's meeting today and learned that there's been unrest at the borders and another clan abandoned your cause to join the opposing army. 

You're concocting a plan to gather information from the warfront that could tip the scales of the war, and if all goes well, you'll have it by the end of the week. 

You toss again in your bed, kicking the covers off with a loud groan. It's unusually hot for the middle of the night. The window is open but there's hardly any breeze, making it difficult to sleep. It doesn't help that your mind keeps drifting to an insufferable redhead –and how there's just a wall separating you. 

Eventually sleep claims you, and you drift into a dreamless slumber. 

You're jolted awake by a calloused hand clamped over your mouth, as another rips the front of your nightgown. You try to scream as you open your eyes, meeting the lecherous gaze of a scrawny, dark-haired man. He’s trying to grope you as his filthy fingers press against your lips with such force, you're sure they will leave bruises. 

If you survive. 

“Aye, bonnie lass, keep thrashing. I don't like it when lasses lose their fight.” He's untying his breeches with one hand, pinning your arms beneath his legs, his weight pressing down on your torso, and panic floods you. You need to make noise. It's the only way to alert Kid. “I was gonna just rob ya, but ye looked so pretty with yer legs bare. I had to touch ya.” 

His hand leaves his pants to grope your bare thigh and you whimper. Then you remember that you can fight back and bite down hard on the hand that's covering your mouth. He yanks his hand back with a yelp, and – gagging at the lingering taste– you take advantage of the distraction and unbalance him. Grabbing the oil lamp from the bedside table, you smash it against his head, scattering scalding oil over his head, your hand, and legs.

The pained groan that escapes your lips brings tears to your eyes as your skin begins to burn and blister. The bastard is in worse shape, but you don’t look too long. Swinging your aching legs to the side, you try to get up and away from him, but he pins you again, spittle flying from his mouth as he leans closer, the angry red welts from the oil are already forming blisters across his face. 

“Burn me ya bitch? Ye’ll pay for this!” 

But before he can act, the door crashes open, nearly flying off its hinges, and Kid enters, his eyes burning with rage as soon as he sets eyes on the scene unfolding in front of him. He’s shirtless and you can’t help but gasp at the enormous scars covering his torso and left arm –a continuation of the ones trailing down his face and neck, scars you hadn’t yet seen. 

“Get the fuck away from her.” His growl vibrates low and deadly and you sense the man shiver for a second. He yanks you up, his filthy hand clawing at your exposed chest, forcing your back against him as he cowers behind you. A small dagger presses against your throat, and you immediately feel a trickle of hot blood running down your neck.

Kid growls again, a feral sound that bristles the hairs in your body and you smell urine as the man behind you leaks his bladder with fear. “Don’t come any closer!” He squeaks, pressing the dagger harder and you whimper softly at the sting of the blade.

Kid hesitates, then stops. One hand grabs his Lochaber axe, the other, a small dagger. You lock eyes with him and then you lower them to the dagger he’s holding, a steely determination purses your lips and you hope he understands you. “Kid, I trust you.” 

He exhales a breath, flips the dagger in his hand, catching it by the tip, and throws it in your direction. It takes a blink of an eye for you to hear the sickening thud as the blade pierces the man’s skull through the forehead, killing him instantly. Then it takes you another blink of an eye to waver forward and away from the man’s crumpling, smelly body, but in less than that time, Kid is by your side, holding you, pulling you against him with another one of his wordless grunts that, somehow, tells you much more about his relief than his words ever would. 

“Lass, yer alright?” His clipped tone masks the slight quiver in his voice, but it’s there, barely noticeable. You nod, still too shocked with what happened to do much more and Kid sits you on the bed, settling beside you. The man must’ve entered through the open window, you think, as Kid fumbles with your bedcovers, pulling a blanket loose and draping it over you. It dawns on you that your breasts were exposed and you should care, but you don’t. 

As the fabric brushes the blisters on your hands and legs, you hiss, jerking slightly. Kid’s eyes trace the red welts marking your skin. Each new one he finds just deepens his scowl. “Fucker.”

“It’s fine.” You say. “I’ll put some honey and knitbone poultice on it. It will heal.” 

“Lass…” His tone softens as his rough hands gently touch your cheeks on the area near your mouth, clearly seeing the beginnings of the bruise the man’s fingers left there. He tips your chin up to inspect the small cut the man’s dagger left on your throat. “Ye did well, but ye’ve been through hell. Let’s get ya cleaned up.” He tries to move you but you shake your head, your breath coming in gasps as the shock sets in. Kid grips your shoulders, trying to ground you. “Oi, oi, it’s over, look at me lass. Look at me.”

Tears stream down your face, blurring your vision, but you focus on his fiery eyes, your lifeline in the midst of a violent storm. “Ye did well. Ye defended yerself. But I’m here for ye, I told ye.” His hand moves up, the caress lingering softly against your cheek, a gentle contrast to his usual harshness. “Dinnae try tae do everythin’ yer own. Ask for help. I’m here for ye.”

A ragged sob makes your lips tremble and you shake your head, swatting his hand away with more force than necessary. “Stop pretending that you care! We both know you don't. You're just a hired sword and I’m a spoiled brat. So stop trying to make me feel better!”

Your breathing quickens as your heart hammers in your chest. The tears don’t stop, everything hurts and you feel so alone. You decided to trust him and he didn’t fail you so why do you feel like this? 

Because he’s paid to protect you. He’s paid to take care of you. He doesn’t really care.

Suddenly Kid leans forward, pulling you against his chest, his hand cradling your head as his lips brush the crown of your head. You cry, releasing hot tears against his bare skin. 

It’s comforting.

“I care.” He says softly, barely a whisper against your hair. “Yer mine tae protect.” A few moments pass in silence and comfort, only broken by your sobs and sniffs. The keep is quiet. You thought you’d screamed loud enough to wake the townspeople, let alone the whole house. But you must’ve been quiet, for only Kid heard you.

Kid cares. 

He cares for you.

To Be Continued...

Tag List: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil @eustasscapitankid @ren-ni @jqperi @lycoriskalmia

|Part 2|

[qprpbj]

ik u posted ab this like a million and one years ago but ur pb&j runaway au literally haunts me. like literally stare up at my ceiling at night thinking about how fcking upset soda and darry would be haunts me. so i must know how do u think that went down 😣 like who brought up running away who actually brought it up as a Serious Thing They Could Do was it impulsive or heavily premeditated did they have a very solid plan HOW DO THE GANG REACT TO ITTTT omg this au haunts me SO BAD u have no idea 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️ in my head i envisioned it as like they have a plan and a set day but then darry does smth that Really pisses pony off and he’s like “johnny 😐😐 idc we were meant to go in two weeks we’re going NOW i fcking #hate my brother” SO I NEED TO KNOW HOW U ENVISIONED IT i’m dying dead no matter what btw i love ur mind about the outsiders

stop bc i thought i elaborated more on that but when i scrolled down my account i literally made one half assed post and that IT oh that is so insane. i literally think about them on the daily though it’s not even funnyyyy so this ask made me so happy 🙇🙇 (just so you know these are basically all just messages of mine copy pasted from chats with @girlishwhimsies bc i’m too lazy to write it all out in diff words and bc the lore for this au still EATSSSS but id be SOOO happy to elaborate more on anything :D)

- i’m imagining some universe where like. the slap and everything never happens but that also means pony never really has a reason to bond with darrel so it just stays tense and weird for years and eventually he’s like. 16/17 and johnnys 18/19 and everything’s just gotten worse and both of them are so tired of their lives here. pony sees some obscure movie at the theatre and/or reads a new age book that’s set in new york about queerness in some way (idk what movie and/or book. will have to research) a la i’ve seen it in the movies and in the books i’ve read, this place is real, it’s not just in my head btw. and pony brings this to johnny and excitedly tells him this plan he has to just. up and run away to new york. he can drop out and change his name and get new ids (it was the 60s tbf) and say he’s a year or two older and he’ll get a job too with johnny. that they don’t have to just dream about being far away from tulsa, so to speak, they can just. do it. the only thing stopping them is themselves and their fears

-pony going to the library and stealing maps and checking out like 10 books about travelling and saving money and about new york and. maybe one or two he hides about queerness

-them asking dally what new york is like and dally getting all pissed but not thinking much of it. then suddenly they’re vanished with all their belongings overnight and dally knows Exactly where they’d have gone. the gang has to follow them but they never catch up

-dally shooting up in bed one night like a week later at like 3am rushing over to the brothers house all i know where they are. they asked me about. about new york the other day. oh my fucking god and darrel’s all just??? new y— NEW YORK?? what the hell did you SAY TO THEM??

-frankly i think they’d wanna go and look after them but they’re poor and darry has a job so. they just put out missing persons requests and have no choice but to call it a day. darry feels guilty but they were never that close but. but soda??? soda knowing pony ran away from him??

-i think pony would leave some cryptic message in a copy of gone with the wind (ironic) addressed to soda in the cover before he leaves but soda literally doesn’t read so he probably doesn’t find it it for ages. something about how you were the only thing keeping me alive in tulsa but i gotta go be my own person now, get away from all of this shit

-darry turns what remains of pony’s room upside down inside out looking for anything but. there’s absolutely nothing left for him

-pony sends a letter back to soda a couple months later all were safe and sound in new york and we really miss you, sodapop, every day. tell dally new york ain’t as bad as he thought…he oughta give it another shot someday. maybe you too, soda. tulsa ain’t home to people like us, soda, you’ve gotta understand why we had to leave

-he sends his first letter without a return address yet bc he’s not ready for soda to know where he is but the next one!!!

-by then it’s been like six months and pony’s hair is bleach blond (smiles) and he looks healthy for maybe the first time really ever. pony sheepishly coming out from behind his friend in some goofy totally-not-pony outfit (bc he’s fallen in loveeee with fashion. btw.) and soda hugs him so fucking tight he swears he stops breathing for a minute

-you know…darry’s been real choked up since you left. you know he…he gets it, right? he’s like you. n’he’s real torn up you left when he couldn’t, honey.

-maybe you…could bring him here, too. there’s family here for him if..he wants it. he’s just gotta get brave like i did.

[andsoigotabutterfly]

-Save me from her - chapter 1

Tara Carpenter x fem!reader

Summary: You and Tara had been circling around each-other for months now, driving your sister insane. What will it take, for you to finally get together?

a/n: I am planing on making a series out of this, which I haven't got a clue on how long it'll be. I am not a native english speaker, please keep that in mind.

!poorly proof-read!

warnings: amature writing, blood, canon-typical violance, swearing, multiple POV's, mixed POV's, tell me if I left something out please!

“Sooo?” Anika leaned before you on the counter; huge smile plastered on her face. ”How did it go?”

You rolled your eyes and stared at your sister. Her eyes were gleaming with anticipation and curiosity. Even though you loved her she was unbearable when she got like this. You told her so.

“Well, you’ve put up with me for nineteen years, so that’s on you. But seriously tell me everything!”

“Nothing happened!” you chimed as you desperately wanted to change the subject. “It was just a normal study session. We started laying out how the project should look like and things like that.”

“Sometimes I don’t even know how we are related…” she huffed, and her shoulders dropped in disappointment. “You’ve been drooling over her for months now! How is it that you didn’t make a move yet?”

“She is scarred, closed off, and has an overprotective sister. And for the record I have made moves. They just… didn’t go as planned” you said and stood up from the counter as you started to make your way to your room to get ready for the day. “Also, drooling is a strong word for how I feel about her.”

Anika raised a brow. “Poor Tara. Mindy told me that they… never mind. It’s not important anyway” she said slowly and taking her coffee mug to her face to take a sip from her drink.

You span around your heels to look at her and stormed to the kitchen’s counter which she was still leaning against. “What did Mind-“ you didn’t finish the sentence as you realized the trap, she laid out in front you, low smile taking over her mimics. You cursed yourself internally for losing your brain whenever her she got on your mind. Which in the last two months was always.

“As I said; drooling” she interrupted then took another sip from her hot drink.

“Out with it. What did that manipulative, smart ass, hot girlfriend of yours say about T.”

She giggled at your behaviour. “I think you meant successful and clever” she was avoiding your question. Oh, how she knew how to get you on your nerves. “The last part I agree with though” she said as her eyes started drifting away, out the window.

“Anika! Focus!”

“Oh, yeah sorry. My mind wandered” her cheeks reddened just the least amount. “About what Mindy said, no way I’m telling you! That would mean I’m abusing her trust. Plus, you know how I hate to gossip around.”

“Sure, you do…” you said knowing very well that her last sentence was a full-blown lie. You rewarded her with your glare that she knew all too well. As soon as she noticed it, she flinched.

“Stop that! It won’t work.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about” you grinned.

“I hate you!”

“I couldn’t care less.”

Anika groaned and tilted her head back. As she looked back down, she caved under your stare and told you what she heard from her girlfriend. After she finished, she added a ‘I promise that’s all I know’ and shunned her head down. With a satisfied smile you patted her shoulder and let her be at the counter.

As you were getting ready for school, a familiar nervous churn got hold of your stomach at the thought of sharing classes with her. What Anika told you was all just circumstantial and didn’t mean much. That girl had you wrapped around her fingers, and she didn’t even know about it. You thought about her sweet smile, her mesmerizing, deep brown eyes her perfect curves. The way she laughed at one of your dumb jokes or the way she smiled back at you across the cafeteria on one of the first days she arrived at Blackmore University. Oh, how you hoped to see that beam of light today too.

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You were deep in conversation with Mindy and Anika about movies when she saw you. Your group was sitting before the university, below the shadow of a small tree. A small breeze blew colourful leaves in the air reminding Tara why she loved Fall so much. As the sun shone through them, it gave you an ethereal glow which made her breath get caught in her throat, your happy-giddy expression making butterflies erupt in her stomach. As she took in your features, her gaze stopped on your lips. Your soft, beautiful, kissable- ‘Snap out of it!’ she thought to herself. As she looked anywhere but you, she realized that she stopped in her track and now Chad was looking curiously at her, waiting on her to catch up.

“What was that all about?” Chad asked with knowing grin on his face as Tara reached him.

“Shut up” she huffed back as they continued their route towards the exit of the building and your table. As they got closer, Tara’s heart started beating faster and faster, her vision tightening down to only you. Your posture, the crinkles in your eyes, your toothy smile. She found everything perfect about you. She was so deep in thought, she couldn’t see a younger boy coming as she bumped into him, breaking her trance. She fell to the ground, hitting the floor. Hard.

As the sounds of her items hitting the floor, reached you, you snapped your head in their direction, noticing her. Then you went red with anger when you heard her pained groan and got up in an instant, marching your way towards the scene.

“I’m so sorry, I should have looked before me, I didn’t mean to knock you over…” the boy started rambling her apologies as Tara slowly got up from the ground gathering her stuff slowly.

“There is no problem, really-“ she started but got cut off by a voice, that had her stomach churning in the most unbearable and pleasing ways.

“You bet that there is a problem!” at your raised voice the whole hallway silenced, listening carefully to the show. “You see, Aaron I didn’t care about you embarrassing yourself in high school when you confessed to your elderly arts teacher, but this? This is worse than when you left the classroom crying after she explained a few things to you.”

“Y/N stop” you could hear Chad’s smirk through his firm voice, but you didn’t care.

“Don’t you know not to be entranced with your phone like a big nerd as you walk through a crowded space? Hell, with this attitude, why don’t you march down the street not a care in the world and knock over your idol ‘by accident’, like you did last time? Who was it again? Oh yes; Tom H-“ you couldn’t finish because you felt her fingers gripping into your arms, calming you down. You looked down at her, her bright smile instantly managing to cool you off. For a few moments you just gazed into each other’s eyes, then you heard a small sob and looked up at the boy.

He looked broken, like a glass that was forcefully thrown at the floor, his eyes gleaming with built up sorrow. Before you could say something more, he mumbled a low ‘Sorry’ towards Tara, then quickly walked off, holding his stuff close to his chest.

You were horrified and frozen in place as you watched him go. After a few seconds, the hallway restarted its usual buzzing. This was when you realized, that almost if not the whole school had heard what you were bawling at him. As the noise indoors got back to its normal heights Chad spoke; “Well, that guys life is over.”

“No its not!” you said quickly. “He… That… This is just a small setback for him! He is a… a grown, charismatic, and lovely human, who had made some bad choices” you managed to stutter out. Then you remembered why you started to call him out. “Are you okay T?”

Her cheeks reddened the slightest. She chuckled lightly and smiled at you. “More than okay, thank you.”

“Then this was more than worth it” you gleamed back and chuckled too.

After you helped her get her things from the floor, you escorted her and Chad to your former company. When you reached them, Anika chose to free up a place and sat in Mindy’s lap, making Tara’s smile grow larger. They were so in love it was adorable.

“What were you guys talking about?” she asked.

“Horror movies” you answered with a dead voice before either of them had a chance.

“Don’t say it like that!” Mindy exclaimed, face showing hurt. “Say it like; Horror movies!” The voice she said it on could be explained as if a character from ‘My Little Pony’ would say it. If they would ever say anything even close to it. “Anyways, I’m just curious so sorry if I cross any line here but how the hell did you know all that about him?”

You shrugged as you sat down, Tara sitting next to you. “It’s what I do. I drink and Iknow things.”

“And you quote things” Anika complemented.

“And I quote things” you agreed. “Looking pretty while doing so.”

As the conversation in the group flowed, you couldn’t help but feel bad for Aaron. Just a little; he still hurt Tara, even if accidentally. Your eyes drifted towards her, examining her again. You were looking, really looking, searching her for little signs that could give away her thoughts and feelings. She looked at peace, was your first thought, yet you couldn’t fully agree with yourself. Her eyes darted away to corners, doors, and windows of the school which you sat before, searching for something, anything. Even in this friendly, harmless banter she was on her heels, and this realization made you furious.

You knew about her past as none of them wanted to keep it a secret. When you first heard the story, it made you just as mad as you were now. How does someone get over a betrayal like that? You couldn’t imagine why someone would try to kill their own girlfriend, especially if that girl is Tara. She was the most pure, kind, and loving person you knew. The thought of her getting hurt made you sick to your stomach.

The group conversed for a long time. Being done with school, nobody had somewhere to be, so you enjoyed your time together. You also rejoined them after you were done with sulking in your own anger, and talked passionately and loudly when someone brought up a topic you were heavily interested in. Nobody noticed as time flew by. You only realized how dark it was getting when Tara’s phone rang. She tensed for a moment, only to relax as she read her sister’s name on the display. The younger Carpenter turned away from the group and picked it up. “Hey Sam!” she greeted and stood, so she may get out of hearing distance, not to disturb you from continuing the debate.

Once she did, Mindy spoke again. “So, movie night at theirs” she gestured towards Tara. “Me and Anika will buy snacks, Chad, I’m assigning you to booze duty. Y/n, you escort your girlfriend home, and we’ll all meet there at eight.”

You rolled your eyes at her comment, but you all agreed on what she said. As you got up from the benches, you heard the brunette say goodbyes to her sister. “Sam needs to stay in late for her shift. She says she won’t be able to make it at least ‘till ten so she asked me to make dinner. I will need to drop by a store from some ingredients” she looked behind you and around. “Where are the others?”

You turned around just to see Chad disappear at the corner of the street. You crossed your arms and huffed slightly. “Mindy handed out the tasks, so she and my sis will probably make out at mine until they have little-to-no time left. After that they’ll find the nearest store, rob it from snacks and meet as at half nine at yours. Chad’s on his drink tour so it’ll take him a while to make it to yours. But at least he’ll be there on time.”

“That is a… pretty accurate picture you painted” she said, chuckling. “Would you care to join me?”

“With pleasure.”

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“What’s for dinner?” you asked as she took a whole sack of onions of the shelf.

“I’m not answering that!” she said, clearly annoyed as this was the fifth time you asked her this.

“Is it onion soup? I bet its onion soup” you smirked behind her, continuing your assault on her nerves. “Do you know it’s one of my favourite foods?”

Tara rolled her eyes. “Stop trying the guess what’s for dinner, I’m not telling you!” she exclaimed, yet she didn’t mean a word she said. You were quite amusing, and your voice was like smooth, alluring jingling to her.

You leaned next to her ear and murmured “Never” before leaning back and continued harassing her, but Tara heard none of it. Your whisper in her ear froze her and had a pleasurable buzz go of in her head. She broke her trance quickly, thanking the gods you didn’t notice what you did to her.

“Oh! Maybe it’s fried onions! That would be a great idea too! Tara you are a genius!” you leaned down again and kissed her cheek, which made her freeze. Again. As she regained control over herself, she quickly put a few other products in her basket and made her way to the cash desk.

“Wait no. I have it! It must be onion pie!”

“Onion what?” Tara asked back. Never in her life has she heard about ‘onion pie’. The cashier made a strange look at you, clearly being at a loss with your words too, as she scanned all the items.

“Onion pie! Don’t tell me you don’t know what it is!”

“No, I don’t” she said sheepishly while paying for everything.

“You need to try it” you said, emphasizing every word. “I swear it’s one of the most delicious things I have ever had in my mouth. Besides onion soup.”

“If you say so.”

“I’ll make you one!” you proposed as you made your way out the shop, and slowly proceeded towards Tara’s apartment through the narrow alley of the shop. Small drops of rain started pouring from the sky. “What do you say? Friday evening you drop by me, we watch something you want, and then you try it out. I got the exact recipe from nan, yet I’ve never made it as good as hers so don’t expect no miracle, but I think it’ll still be great!”

“I would love to” Tara started, a grin making its way on her face “but unfortunately my Friday is taken…”

“What have you planned?”

“Movie night with you and our friends in two hours!”

“Oh, yeah right…” you said. “What about tomorrow evening?”

“Sounds-“ she got cut off by a stranger almost knocking her up. You managed to catch her before she would hit the ground. “Ouch!”

“Watch where you go bitch!” he snapped at Tara as he tried to walk away, but you grabbed his shoulder and span him around. “What did you just say?” his breath stank of alcohol and smoke. You knew he was wasted as hell, but you didn’t care. All you could see was red.

“I said your whore shou-“ he couldn’t finish his sentence as you shoved him into the wall left to you, raising your arm to hit him before he could get up, but he was faster than you anticipated. The man launched himself against your chest, knocking you to the ground, straddling you between his legs. Then he started to hit you wherever he could while you effortlessly tried to block his punches. The rain falling in your eyes didn’t help you either. You groaned in pain and after a while, you got a hold of his waist and with the help of your leg you managed to throw him over you.

You quickly got up, to face him once again, but Tara was quicker, kicking him in the chest before he could get up. She moved back and you placed your hand on her shoulder but didn’t take your eyes off drunkard. He didn’t take long to get up, standing before you with a wide, aggressive stance. He reached behind his back and took out a pocketknife. Tara twitched under your hand, and immediately stepped back. “Come here perra!”

Adrenaline coursed through you as you changed your stance and stood sideways towards him, the instructions of your martial arts coach flowing through your mind. Block with the back of your arm, if necessary, grab, pull, strike, repeat. Hopefully without the repeat part, you added.

He rushed towards you, swiping towards you with his knife. You dodged his first swipe left then the one to the right, and his attempted stab. Then you grabbed him by his wrist with lightning-fast movement and pulled him, sending him of next to you. As his body was leaving yours, you hit the man’s armed hand, hard. Not hard enough though, as his wet hand slipped out of your grip, and he didn’t let go of the weapon.

He launched himself at you again, this time making faster cuts. ‘Shit’ you thought as you saw one coming that you couldn’t dodge. You raised your arm so it would hit the back of your arm. You hissed from the impact. The surprise of hitting you made him vulnerable, so you grabbed his wrist and twisted his arm whilst repeating your former actions, this time disarming him in the process. As he turned around, you punched him in the stomach with your unhurt hand, and kicked his feet from under him, making him fall once again. His scalp hit the ground and knocked him out.

Your blood merged with the water on your hand and started dripping off it. You looked down at the wound; it wasn’t deep or wide which was the cause of your bones stopping the attack. “Jesus y/n!” Tara exclaimed as she noticed the cut. “Let’s get you to the apartment. I can get it clean there and then we’ll bandage it up.”

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You were quick to get there, not wanting many people to see you. Tara took the groceries of the ground and started speed walking beside you, her eyes full of worry and fear. Her heart was thrumming in her throat at the thought of losing you. She couldn’t think straight as her mind dictated only one word: faster, faster, faster. Her speed-walking went to jogging, then to running. Your sight was blurry, and your head, ribs and arms hurt but you were able to keep up with her. You blessed your father for forcing you to take those taekwondo lessons, and your coach for not kicking you out even after multiple accidents.

For you had some over the many years you had been attending the classes for your safety. Once or twice during parring you couldn’t hold back against your already defeated opponent, or when Coach Jaehyun, or as you liked to call him; Hun’, called you out to demonstrate a move, you hurt him. You either kicked too hard or made an unpredictable move which had him surprised. None of these mattered as for some reason, he thought highly of you and went out of his way to protect and take care of you. He was one of your closest friends. When you started your training, it was by the side of his father, a strong, kind, and honourable man. After his untimely passing, his son took his mantle as the new coach of the group, and quickly started to bond with you, one of his most successful students.

As you stumbled up the stairs of the building, you cursed, for Tara and Sam of course lived on the fourth level. You hated stairs. They were your nemesis, and never once could you beat them without them wearing you out before. Tara struggled for a moment with her keys, then swung the door wide open. “Bathroom” she ordered gesturing towards it with her hand.

Tara stormed towards the kitchen, searching the drawers for bandages and disinfectant. After she got all, she needed, she rushed after you. Her breath got stuck for a moment in her throat when she reached the bathroom. You took off your shirt, so she could see your bruises. You had them all over your body, as well as a black left eye and an open right arm. Somehow even now, you looked celestial.

She approached you as you were cooling your eye with cold running water and put a hand on you as to sign her presence. “Can I have a look at your arm?” she asked softly. Far softer than she usually was.

Rather than answering her, you stretched your arm out for her to look at the wound. She took it and started working on it gently. Every touch on your skin sent the feel of electricity running through you, making your heartbeat as fast as if you were running a marathon. As she was cleaning the cut you wondered for a second how she knew how to do this. Then you mentally facepalmed yourself. Of course, she knew how to deal with a wound. She would know better than anyone else.

Her heart was beating fast too, which she wished you didn’t notice. When she was done with cleaning, she stitched it up delicately and took the bandages that had been sat down beside her. While covering it, she trailed her eyes over your body. Beside the bruises, it was flawless and gorgeous. Her eyes wondered some more when she noticed a healed and old in wound on your left side. It was long, trailing from the height of your belly button right up, until it reached your armpits. She wondered, what could’ve happened and before she could stop herself, she asked.

You stiffened in her hold closing your eyes for a few moments. “I’d rather not talk about it” you said with a mournful voice.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to-“

“No need to be. Really” you said reassuringly.

“Okay…”

Once she finished, she threw the garbage in the trash, then helped you up and out of the bathroom. “Thanks for defending me back there by the way.”

“Thanks for patching me up doc T” you smiled down at her.

“I’ll give you something cold for your eyes and warm for your bruises” she said after setting you down on the couch.

“Wait, warm?” you sat up so she could see the confusion in your eyes.

“Yes” she said smiling. “It helps the trapped blood escape when a bruise already formed, from the area, making it less visible and speeding up the healing. After that you can apply something cold if you want to.”

“I did not know that” you mumbled and dropped back into the couch.

A few minutes later she was back with warmed salt in pouches and beans from the freezer. “Here you go” she uttered and sat down next to you. She gently placed the pouches on the right places and handed you the beans. You sighed in relief when you put it on your eye, muttering a quiet ‘Thank you’ whilst watching her delicately work with your bruises. It felt weird, your eyes felt cold, whilst other parts of your body were warm. Especially your hips, where she kept one of her hands. The heat was radiating through your whole body at the realisation.

You just noticed how close you two were, and it made you forget how to breath. She looked down at you, her pupils widening just the slightest. You could feel her breath on your face, getting faster just a little. She was leaning closer now, her breath shuddering above your face. Her eyes snapped down to your lips before snapping back to your eyes. Your beautiful, captivating, deep eyes. She found herself entrapped in them. Your eyes snapped to her lips too, seeing how red they were. Alluring like every of her body parts, and kissable. Oh, how kissable they looked-

You could hear the door opening.

She jolted back, as you also tried, only now remembering that your head was already on the couch. You finally remembered how to breath. Tara felt her cheeks redden and stood up abruptly.

“We’re HERE!” Mindy screeched as they all got in. Why wouldn’t they be punctual the one time they shouldn’t be?

“Hey” you greeted them back, sitting up on the couch, revealing your face.

Mindy’s jaw dropped, Anika’s eyes widened for a moment, then she rolled her eyes, Chad laughed. Your sister marched towards you, clearly irritated. “What did you do this time?”

“I swear it wasn’t my fault!” you started to defend.

“It kind of was” Tara interrupted, smiling.

“Of course, it was, now tell me what happened!” Anika demanded.

So you did. You told the story, of how you heroically fought of three people who were all trying to mug Tara, whilst also saving an elderly lady from the truck that was about to hit her. Whilst your story went on, you got up from the couch and started playing the scene like it really happened. You didn’t seem to be distracted by the fact that your upper body was only covered by a sports bra. They all carefully listened to the made-up story, as they were used to them by this point. “So there I was, grandma in one hand, her groceries in the other, facing off this huge monstrosity of a man. He was about seven feet tall and had the sharpest machete in hand that I’ve ever seen. Then, he lunged at me” you lunged your arm forward as if holding something at Anika’s face. She dropped her jaw, playing along.

“Were you killed?” she asked, her voice unexpectedly curious.

“Sadly, yes” you said, closing your eyes. Then you snapped them open and dramatically said; “But I lived!”

“When exactly did you lose your mind?” Chad asked, before Anika could shut her up.

You stared away into nothing and murmured low, as if deep in thought. “Three months ago. I woke up one day married to a pineapple. An ugly pineapple” you sighed like a lovestruck fool. “But I loved her.”

“That’s enough” Tara cut in, still smiling like an idiot. “I’ll tell you how it really went so I may start cooking.”

“But I wanted to hear how she fought of that giant!” Mindy said pleading with her tone and with her eyes.

“Okay, I’ll tell you but just this once!” you raised your voice and continued the story. Tara rolled her eyes, gave you one last smile then went away into the kitchen to get the dinner ready.

[kentuckyfriedmegumi]

fanfic writer interview

thank you @uriekukistan for tagging me!

no pressure tags @yearnwormwrites @hijinks-n-lowjinks @fluffy-bacon363 and @philosophiums <33

How many works do you have on AO3?

i have 14 works; 13 are for jjk and 1 is just a writing exercise thing i wrote

Your top 5 stories by kudos/likes:

Itadori Yuji's Totally Foolproof Plan to get Fushiguro Megumi to Fall In Love with Him

Closing the Distance

is it gay if our pinkies are intertwined?

Too Soon?

I Have to Protect You

all of them are jjk itafushi works!! yuji's plan is my first fanfic piece i've ever written!

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

yes!!! i try my best to but lskdjflsd sometimes it gets ahead of me or life gets all wonky. i really do try tho, and most of the time i'm pretty responsive <3

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

oh for sure it has to be To See You Again. it's an alternate ending to What I'd Give, and i've had ppl argue that that one is sadder, but i feel like (without getting into spoilers) the lack of resolution leaves this one feeling a bit more bleak. i felt bad writing it.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

probably yuji's plan, even tho it's an ongoing series. it's only "ongoing" bc of a series of spin-off one-shots that follow the ending, but they are all pretty happy. the series overall has very light angst too, but if not yuji's plan, then perhaps Closing the Distance.

Do you write crossovers?

naur but i have considered writing characters in other universes. idk tho, seems intimidating.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

not hate in the traditional sense where someone is actively disliking my story or writing, but i do regularly get jumped by my readers for my angsty stuff. i wouldn't call it hate tho.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

naur and i probably never will, but i do have little FLIES IN MY EARS that want me to.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

last i checked, naur. but im keeping an eye out bc im willing to throw hands over it ksfdjsdl

Have you ever had a fic translated?

no, but i've had someone ask me if i ever will. i can't do the translating, but it would be cool if one of mine were.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

YES OMFG!!!! @sunnyyflowerrs and i wrote pinkies together and it was SOOO MUCH FUN!!!! it's crazy like how well our writing styles meshed together, and i really liked working with her. i'm her number 1 fan fr so like this was just a dream to me. i loveee it and it's my third most liked fic!!!! i'd lovee to work with her again, and there are also some other writers that i hope to work with!

What’s your all-time favorite ship?

itafushi literally sucked me into the ao3 rabbit hole like nobody's business. i never read fan fiction ever in my life before june, and then next thing i know i'm writing a multi-chapter fic in august. now i have 13 itfs works and kfm socials on like. every app. crazy how that works.

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

i don't know if there's one that i don't think i'll ever finish. i hope to try and finish all of my works eventually, i guess the *only* thing that i could really think to put here is just that the yuji's plan one shots are going to keep going til i run out of ideas.

What are your writing strengths?

the kfm trio: angst, miscommunication, and tension. i feel like i really do well with tension, but i've been told that when my angst hits, it hits. also currently have my readers tweaking out in CTD with the miscomm, so we got the holy trinity.

What are your writing weaknesses?

my prose and descriptors are a work in progress. i feel like it can come out sounding clunky and it's really hard to get the flow right. that's what i'm struggling with in skinny dipping, an unpublished wip of mine. the more i work on it, tho, the better it gets.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

oh goodness, i would be soooo bad at it i fear. the only other language that i know is american sign language ahahaha, so the best that i could do is accurately capture inumaki signing in ASL kajsdfldsk the closest i get is using when i use -chan or -sensei in dialogue, but i don't use it anywhere else.

What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to?

OH MY GOD I SWEAR I WILL WRITE A SHIGUANG FIC FOR LINK CLICK OMFGGG THE POTENTIAL THERE IS CRAZYYYYY I NEEDDDD TO WRITE IT however, i must pace myself and finish skinny dipping first, and also probably closing the distance before i even try to start writing a new fic, much less for a new fandom. oh also kagehina is slowly creeping up on me the more i watch haikyuu... i can feeeeel it

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

currently, it's actually Hot Off the Press teehee. it's a fun, low-pressure fic that i can self-indulge in and use my degree for! it's been a ton of fun writing and i really like being able to pull stuff that i learned for this story. also it's just a fun story to write teehee

[randomness-is-my-order]

wwx is sooo smart! in a modern setting, what subject do you think he would teach? what about in college?

seriously, i can wax poetic about wwx’s intelligence, ingenuity and smartness any day!! and ooooh, your question puts me in a bind because i cannot just name one subject. i think wei wuxian is good at too many things and the younger generations deserve to have his mentorship for an array of subjects. but i’m gonna try my best to just discuss one for this post!

see, i don’t want to mention fine arts because i think wwx would be a hobbyist about it and prefer to be one of those guys hopping around museums and galleries and curating a small but insightful review blog to engage with that side of the arts. an aspect of him that his students would probably find a bit later once they go stalking their professor’s social media profiles (which wwx would be VERY lowkey about) and find that, oh, the cool professor is so much cooler still.

also, because this got me thinking way too much, before we get to the subject, imagining wwx as a full time faculty member–i’ll go out on this fanfic fuelled limb and say he would totally be the teacher coordinator for a university play and/or the debate society! the latter especially, because if the second siege showed us nothing else, it made clear that wwx knows how to frame his arguments logically w/o getting too personal/emotional (not that some debates don’t need an emotional input!) and knows how to keep the audience hooked to his words. the same goes for the deft way in which he handled his defence at the nightless city. so, yeah.

okay, so the subject i think wwx would teach has to be....

physics!!!!!

like this is the one that pops in my mind first and foremost and it fits wwx so well and not just in the realm of engineering. not that wwx’s inventing streak won’t be profoundly useful there but when it comes teaching the subject, when i say “physics” i mean the pure science. that would be wei wuxian’s jam!! he would come up with elaborate setups to simply but elegantly explain and exhibit a complex physics law or phenomenon. he would assign practical-oriented projects to his students and allow for fun which is sorely lacking in intensive pure science classes! he would make time to go over some relevant historic trivia about some theory a guy in the 18th century came up with and he would TOTALLY gossip about the scientists of the past and the scandals so many of them were engaged in. and the most important part!! he would conceptualise different and unique experiments for his class to practice for that part of their grade! alot of the time we forget how important the practical ingenuity of physics professors need to be when it’s not applied physics because the emphasis on the theoretical classes overshadows it. but wei wuxian would plan the practical course himself, even discuss the experimental configurations with his students, and design a whole booklet with them! and ykw?? he’d teach them coding too! which is one aspect of our technological era that i think wwx would excel at because there is so much craftiness required for coding and since coding is so essential for simulations and analysis in physics, wwx could teach them...some python, lol. 😭😭 also, i want to add, wei wuxian would 100% be that college professor with a league of papers published and held in high regard so that for each course he teaches, his own work could be a relevant reference which his students would find SO cool and maybe even funny.

okay, i’m done feeding you my physics professor!wwx agenda but i also think him teaching an ethics class would be fun. and also P.E. no but imagine a sociology course with wei wuxian? or a music major? the possibilities are literally endless but you probably won’t catch wwx anywhere near a culinary school.

[euphoricfilter]

omg you’re sooo sweet!! I love your writing and it amazes me how you intend to just do a small drabble but it’s always series worthy & ik that’s not what you plan but that’s how interesting your stories get🥹 but I have so many ideas for the “how time has changed you” couple (you don’t have to do them all or at all, just a few ideas) but maybe you can tell us more about how they met, how she fought him and how he finally got her into Stockholm syndrome, and maybe some smut along the way either right before she fell into Stockholm syndrome so (dubcon/somno) or after and their just so thirsty for each other 😮‍💨

it’s all in your head:

pairing: yandere! yoongi x f. reader

genre: more angst than fluff || mafia au || yandere au || non-idol au

summary: you're the one that let yourself fall

word count: 2.1k

tags/ warnings: kidnapping, implied stockholm syndrome, unintentional mind break/ mentioned disassociation, mentions of minor injuries (bruises)

notes: chronologically happens before ‘how time has changed you’ but i think reading hthcy first is probably better ~ drabble requests closed (peep the gorillaz reference in the title) also!!! thank you??? you're sweet too my love <3 and thank you so much for taking the time out of your day to read my stuff??

drabble masterlist || my main masterlist

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Human beings are flawed in design. And somewhere, mingled between all the self-loathing thoughts, somewhat of a god complex had formed. 

You wouldn’t ever tell anyone, hot embarrassment too much to handle, but truly you felt as though you were untouchable. Like the universe had a secret little rule written somewhere in the stars that luck was always on your side. 

It had been a harsh slap to the face when reality had settled in. It was strange how for days you’d been watching yourself from outside of your body. Someone so familiar yet so different, who had your face, your mannerisms, everything so very you; yet she’d fallen into the claws of a beast. No longer exempt from the evils of the world. 

While you covered your ears at the incessant banging at the bedroom door, you from the real world simply curls up further into herself. 

You were aware that your captor wasn’t going to open the door. You hadn’t exactly been the kindest in your first few days here, more than a few bruises littering his skin from your outbursts. Sticky guilt seizing your body when you’d catch a glimpse of his arms painted purple from an unjust kick, because somehow you knew he never had plans to touch you if it wasn’t on your own terms. 

The little control you had over your life in the form of a lock and key. Yoongi had found himself more than worried when you wouldn’t even open the door for food, never below begging for you to come out even if only briefly because really your health was the most important thing. 

Through prickly thoughts of impossible escape and wallowing in self-pity, you’d tried to figure out where you’d met Yoongi. Because even if you had come across thousands of faces between meeting him, surely you wouldn’t forget eyes like his. A thousand secrets hidden behind eyes almost as black as the night sky; eyes that would have no problem picking you apart with nothing but a single glance. 

He seemed to know you quite well. Seemingly knowing small, insignificant things about you. Favourite foods, snacks you’d always seem to eye when you’d wander into a convenience store of an evening. Every little hobby you’d picked up in the last six months stacked on a coffee table. Clothes you’d been eyeing online for weeks, sat in a basket that truly you had no intention of buying; a faraway dream that’s not as far as it seems. 

A prison disguised as a perfect bedroom. And as much as the bed had looked tempting, silk duvet sure to do wonders for your skin and blankets that were made of velvet; you hadn’t dared fall asleep. Not until your body had begged for rest and you’d spend an hour napping on the woollen rug, only to be woken by a tray of food being slipped through the door. 

The first time you become somewhat aware of your physical body again is when Yoongi doesn’t show up one morning. Doesn’t tell you stories of his life, doesn’t sit there as you stare at your food; praying that he would leave you alone. That he’d let you go, or at least answer the questions that have you falling into an endless hole of hysteria. 

You shower. A rushed ordeal because you didn’t know when Yoongi would return. And then you’d fallen asleep on the rug until the sun had dipped below the horizon and Yoongi had made himself comfortable outside your door again. 

You’d tried to run, dreams of a world so far out of your grasp dying in your hands as you stand there only to find heavy footsteps that stalked the halls, a brutal reminder that you wouldn’t get very far even if you tried. 

The windows didn’t open, you’d tried that. Too scared to try and smash them open, sure they were specially made– impossible to break. 

You’d lost all concept of time. Days bleeding into nights. Hours melting into one another. Where seconds are nothing more than fine dust, something you relied on truly nothing but a concept. Unattainable no matter how long you tried to count each minute or guess the day of the week. Every day is a repeat of the last. The only difference would be what Yoongi would talk about, gravelly voice ricocheting throughout your mind until you lay there awake hours after he’d gone to bed, replaying everything he’d told you that evening. 

You’re not sure when it happens, but you start to expect Yoongi. Knowing that when delicate orange light spills into your room from the window, the sky the prettiest shade of pink, he’d be there. 

Yoongi never opened the door. Voice bold enough that you can hear everything he says, walls thin enough that you can hear each deep sigh that passes through his lips when he talks about certain things that irk him just that little bit. 

When Yoongi talked, and you listened, the world was shrouded in darkness. And you simply floated, merely existed. No expectations, not that you knew of anyways. And maybe he had a hidden agenda, something a little more sinister lurking behind airy words that silenced every niggling thought in your mind that kept you awake every night. 

You don’t think much of it when Yoongi doesn’t show up one evening. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d have done this. Sure to come tomorrow morning with a plate full of cake, maybe those cookies that you liked; way too expensive for you to ever splurge on. Hot chocolate or sweet tea, you’re unsure though he seems to decide based off the weather, and so you’ll have to see what a new day brings you before you hazard a guess. 

And so, you deal with the silence of the bedroom for one evening. 

By the second day of silence, you’d found yourself staring at the door again, every little creak of the floorboards in the hallway causing you to perk up. Tips of your fingers burning as you dig your nails into the carpet, feet tapping against the floor, bottom lip chewed between your teeth. Every passing hour of deafening silence tugging you further and further into a spiral. 

Without Yoongi’s voice your thoughts had amplified. 

You hadn’t been here long in retrospect, a month? Maybe a little more. Surely he hadn’t already gotten sick of you? How pitiful would that be? The very man who had shown an inkling of an obsession was already done with you. 

Day four, and you’re sat by the door, startling one of the maids who had come to give you breakfast. 

You bang your head against the wall once she closed it, the tray kicked away from you as frustrated tears cling to your lashes. Something suffocating grabbing onto your neck, a phantom hand cutting off your air as you tug at your hair. 

Self-pity is a terrible thing. An ugly emotion mutating into something a little worse until you can physically feel the sadness, tugging at your temples in the form of a headache, salty cheeks, tight with tears, or a heart that feels infinite times heavier compared to the ache of rocky blue sadness. 

As the sun rises on the sixth day, you decide to keep the bedroom door open, in hopes that a breeze from the open windows downstairs would carry some of the wretched thoughts that wouldn’t leave you alone no matter how hard you tried to drown them out. 

You’d tried washing them down the drain, scalding hot shower only burning your skin, red-raw and tender to touch– physical twinge of pain still not enough to make the world silent. 

You’d sat in front of the CD player for an hour before you’d flicked through piles of plastic cases to find a song you liked. And you hadn’t been all that surprised to find they were all your favourite artists. You’d only managed to blast one song before you’d kept the volume down, always listening out for all the little noises outside the room. 

On the seventh day, you’d sat in the doorway of the bedroom, legs tucked up to your chest. You’d only made brief eye contact with the herculean man standing opposite your door before you’d retreated back into your own mind. Because as much as it was tempting, you wouldn’t dare ask where Yoongi was, sickly hatred still gnawing away at the back of your mind. 

On the eighth day, one of the maids had asked if you wanted to take a stroll in the garden; that hauling yourself up in the bedroom all day isn’t healthy. And something inside of you had fallen out of place. So completely out of character, you couldn’t recognise yourself. 

You’d started flinging pillows and blankets off the bed at Yoongi’s staff, unsure if what was coming out of your mouth was words of sobs or shaky little cries. Your body seemingly moves on its own, free will fizzling in your hands as you act on impulse.

“What’s all this?” 

You stop, hiccuping as Yoongi stands in the doorway, blurry; veiled by tears that cling to wet lashes. 

“Out. All of you” 

You wipe your cheeks with the back of your hands, knees cushioned by long-forgotten blankets as you drop to the floor. Footsteps of those scuttling out of the room drowned out by the thumping of your heart in your ears. 

Yoongi runs his thumb over his bottom lip, your shoulder shaking as you swallow down another sob. 

He crouches, still far enough away from you. 

“What’s all this about, darling?” he soothes. 

“I hate you. I hate you so much” you kick at the blankets underneath you, “first you fucking take me without asking–” 

“It’s for your own good” he shakes his head, “I did it for you”

“Bullshit” you laugh, “Normal people don’t do this” 

“You and I come from two very different worlds, baby” 

You push the palms of your hands into the sockets of your eyes, “I wouldn’t know. I don’t know you” 

Yoongi hums, gentle as he takes a step forward, slow so you can see he merely wants to be closer, “But I know you” 

“And that makes it okay for you to act like you care and then leave for days?” 

He blinks, “Is that what this is about?” a laugh bubbling up his throat, “You were lonely, is that it? Because you could have asked for me and I would have come straight home for you” 

“Huh?” your eyebrows crease, and your eyes meet his own, “that’s not–” 

“Not what?” he tilts his head, something acutely mocking in his gaze, “Not you waiting for me? Not you slowly losing yourself to your wretched little mind? Always overthinking, so caught up in your own head. I have eyes and ears everywhere– I know every little thing you’ve been doing over the last week” 

You swallow, “I hate you” 

“Lying is bad, you know?” he hums, “It’s okay to let go sometimes. It’s okay to admit you can’t do things alone.” 

You shake your head. 

“No?” 

“You weren’t here. I was alone.” 

“I’m here now. I’ll always be here for you” 

Yoongi thinks people have pre-established ideals about him because of his job. Brute force and terror had never been something he wanted to instil in you. Never wanting to wear you down, pull you so far into the darkness that you stray away from the essence of your being. He loved you as you were and simply wanted you to see eye-to-eye with him. 

He hadn’t expected you to fall so soon. Had prepared to wait many more months if it meant he could have you where he wanted you. 

It’s endearing, how much control you seem to think you have over your own thoughts. The mind is ever so fragile, and truly, we are our own worst enemies. And maybe that’s what he found so fascinating about you. Wanting to weave his way into your own world, stuck inside your own head, so many thoughts and so many ugly feelings that he’d love to just wash away. 

And to just watch you find the little piece of freedom from your own awful mind. A fucked up hero that saved you from your own hysteria, because as much as you liked to think you were the one in control, he could see it. Watched as each day you slowly started to lose yourself. 

And Yoongi will never say it, will never take the prize of you sinking into his grasp, because you’d brought yourself here. And he assumes you’ll only continue to sink further and further until all you know is him; the way it’s supposed to be. 

And very soon, he knows the two of you will find something special.

🧸 thank you for reading!!

[yeontaescumslut]

ᓭི༏ᓯྀ ྐ𖥨᩠ׄ݁ ˖ ݁ 𓈒 불꽃놀이 ~ fireworks

Pairing: Taehyun x Reader

Genre: non- idol au, smut

Synopsis: You had never really cared for holidays, your family wasn’t close, you never really celebrated…that is, until you met your best friend Taehyun, who wanted to do anything and everything, especially celebrate holidays….and boy did this one take a turn….

Warnings: unprotected sex, name calling, public sex, hair pulling, slight pain kink, degrading

Word count: 2420

Authors note: Hey guys :’3 I wrote this on vacation so it’s not as good as the others but just something small to celebrate 4th of July for my Americans!

It was summer, you were on break from college, in Korea…you attend yonsei university and that’s how you met your best friend in the whole world, you shared the same classes, he sat right beside you in all the lectures and before you knew it, you were joined at the hip. His friends now became yours because let’s face it, you had recently come to Korea to study and knew nobody and nothing so you would take what you got.

Today was any other ordinary Wednesday for you, except for Taehyun it was the July 3rd the day before 4th of July, as 4th of July was an American Holiday taehyun thought it would be fun to celebrate for you, like a piece from home for you…

Text message | From ~ “Tyunnie 🐠”

Tae: “Sooo, we have plans tomorrow, don’t ask questions, dress cute, wear that top I like ;)”

Me: “oh gosh taehyun 🙄 you know I don’t like going out…”

Tae: “I knowwww but it’s going to be fun, you know I’d never lead you astray 😏”

Me: “Fine 🙄 what time do I need to be ready?”

Tae: “ Be ready by 8”

The rest of the night your mind is racing wondering what could he have planned, but you’re used to this, always going on spontaneous adventures…he knew how to make you love life, so even though you were nervous about tomorrow you were more so excited to see what you both would get up to next.

The next day comes around faster than you’d like to admit, you start your day late waking up around 11 am, eyes heavy brain still foggy, you rub the sleep from your eyes and grab your phone to check your notifications ~

New message from : “Tyunnie🐠”

“GOOD MORNING PRINCESS! I hope you’re excited for tonight I’ve got so much planned for us. See you later darling :3 ~”

You don’t like to admit it but this message made your heart race, in fact every message you received from him made your heart race, sending butterflies in your stomach….but he’s just your best friend. That would never work out, right? You decide that’s enough overthinking for today, shaking your head in realization. Slamming your hands on the bed beside you, you decide to finally start your day, you had lots to do before tonight, laundry, cleaning, finishing school work for the summer, etc etc ~

Time flies, before you know it, it’s 6:45 and decide that it’s time to get ready, you put on taehyuns favorite top that you own, a sheer black top that ties right below your breasts, and a black mini skirt, your shoes are black platform boots, you curl your hair, putting on the makeup that makes you feel the prettiest, and again before you know it you hear a honk coming from the front of the place you’re staying. Walking out you grab your black coach purse, looking yourself in the mirror giving yourself a pep talk, not to get too nervous in front of him, and don’t let your feelings get in the way….

Walking out the door, Taehyun is pulled on the curb in his black mustang, he’s standing arms crossed back to the passenger side door, flashing you the biggest smile, the one you love so much, deep dimples and sharp canines on display, your stomach turning in knots as you approach closer, you known him for months now yet you still hesitate every time you see him…

“There’s my girl!” he opens the car door, holding out his hand to guide you in your seat, as you grab his hand he bites his lip looking you up and down “God you look gorgeous” you respond with “well you did tell me to wear this top hyun” you roll your eyes at him but give a playful smile. As you take your seat in the car and get yourself situated he closes the door gently, walking back to the drivers seat getting in himself. His hand rested on the gear shift the other on the top of the steering wheel, he looks over at you “you ready?” you look back at him hesitating to answer “uhhh I guess?!!” you said with a shrug of your shoulders, the hand on the gear shift, moves to your bare upper thigh, slightly squeezing “We’re going to have fun I promise” smile as bright as always. You take a deep breath in and sigh, only being able to focus on the hand on your thigh, a heat raging in your stomach as his hand moves higher up your thigh as he drives. You’re sat still, hands in your lap not knowing what to do in this situation “ soooo uhhh where are we headed” you say tapping your fingers together just trying to break the silence “ We’re going to the mountain, the one not far from here” he says, hand squeezing your thigh tighter but eyes focused on the road.

By now the sun has gone down, you and Taehyun are just sitting and chatting eating snacks and drinking your champagne, you look at Taehyun to tell him something when suddenly, he grabs your chin turning your head back forward “Look.” As soon as your eyes hit the landscape fireworks shot up into the air, beautiful colorful fireworks, your eyes lighting up from the beauty and excitement from how much you missed them. “Wow taehyun these are….” before you can finish your sentence that same hand is turning your face back to him, your eyes meet his, they look as though they’re full of hunger, in a split second his lips are on yours, his hand moved to the back of your head pulling you closer to him so there’s not an inch between you two. He pulls away for a split second “is this okay?” He says, his eyes genuine. “Yes, it’s more than okay” barely letting you get your words out, his mouth is back on yours, tongue fighting for entrance to your mouth, with his free hand he places it on your lower back lowering you to lay on your back, grabbing a pillow and places it behind your head, he’s hovering over you, arms beside your head….now this is one thing you never expected, especially from him, he was always so…soft and kind and never pushy, but god did you love this side of him. His knee coming up inbetween your legs pressing it against your core only covered by your underwear. One hand coming to grab you by the throat, turning your head to the side so his lips can reach the nape of your neck, his lips warm, plush, and wet, trailing their way to your collar bones, then down to your chest, his hand moves to your waist holding you down so you don’t squirm under him, he uses his teeth to untie your top freeing your breast’s to the chilly night air, making your nipples harden before you can adjust to the temperature his mouth is attached to you, sucking and licking your nipples, his hands are busy pushing your skirt up your hips, his fingers finding your clothed clit, pressing his slender digits into your folds, mumbling into your skin “Fuck you’re so wet for me already? You’re a needy slut aren’t you?” His tongue trailing from your sternum to your waist, he’s leaving kisses along your hip bones, his teeth slightly scraping the skin every once in a while, sending shocks up your spine, little moans leaving your lips, his fingers slip your panties to the side making way for him to enter, his pointer and middle slide in easy from how wet you were. His mouth now hovering over your clit, heavy breaths with an open mouth make you spiral, he bites his lip and dives in, lips enveloping your bud, tongue making its way up and down your folds, his fingers sliding in and out of you, his free hand taking a handful of your tit rubbing his thumb across your nipple, your back arched on the Gingham blanket, tears welling in ths corners of your eyes….

Fireworks pop in the background, the showers of color illuminating Taehyuns features as he’s knuckle deep in your pussy. His eyes dart up to meet yours, when he sees your eyes shut tight he breaks away from your bud “Fucking look at me slut, I didn’t tell you to close your eyes”. He picks himself up, hovering over you once again, his fingers leaving your entrance, his arms wrap around your waist flipping you over on your stomach, one hand on your upper back pushing you into the pillow the other around your waist holding your ass in the air. “Stay” he says removing his hand from your back to unbutton his black slacks pulling them down to release his 7.5” you can’t see but hear the slap against his stomach, he spits on his hand rubbing it on his cock, moving your panties to the side once again, his thumb on your fold holding it open as he slides himself into you. Grunting as your pussy engulfs him, soft moans leaving his lips as well, when he’s situated in you, he speeds up his pace. Arm still holding you by your stomach ass in the air, with his free hand, reaching for your hair gathering your locks in a ponytail pulling your head up “I wanna see your pretty face while I destroy your pussy” You comply turning your face so he can see your side profile.

“Mmmm that’s my good girl” a devilish grin is painted on his face, his pounding getting harder, his moans growing louder, tears now painting your face as knots form in your stomach from him hitting just the right spot over and over again “Fuck I’ve wanted to do this for so long, you’re so mine” he says biting his lip hand letting go of your hair to smack you on the ass, the sting left behind feels painful but so sensual. His hand now grabbing a handful of your asscheek nails leaving crescent shapes in the skin. His head thrown back, his ashy brown locks coated in sweat. Beads dropping down the slope of his nose, he looked perfect.

His grip on you getting tighter as he nears his high, you also nearing yours cries escape your throat, his name in every one, he loves the sound of it so much so it’s drawing him closer and closer, your legs basically dangling in the air at this point as though he’s using you as his personal sex doll, his pattern getting messier letting you know he was about to cum, his hand now reaching under ti grab you by the throat pulling you up to him, your back now on his chest as he’s on his knees, his strength guiding you up and down his cock, his lips near centimeters from your ear “I’m gonna cum, fuck, and you’re gonna take every last drop” this sends you spiraling, stars dancing across your vision from how tight your eyes are shut “Yes sir” you say shakily getting out what words you can. His grip on your neck tightens, a pleasurable tightness as he reaches his climax, slamming his hips into your ass painting your walls white, his teeth dig into your shoulder blade as he lets out whimpers as your walls are tightening from your high following suit, you cry his name tears flowing down your cheeks, body pulsating as you feel the warm inside of you. He lifts you off of him just to bend you back over, hand on your neck so you stay in place, his pointer and middle push into you once again, pushing his seed deep into your pussy “I told you you’re not waiting even one drop” screaming bellowing out of you from overstimulation but god does it feel good from him. He finally lets you go, letting you fall to your stomach on the soft blanket and pillow, you sigh heavy breathing following….”Oh I hope you know I’m not done with you yet princess” kissing your shoulders his tone hands rubbing up and down your back. “oh fuck”.

[milogreer]

EA spoilers 💖

freelancer always hosting little parties and get togethers for their friends is so so adorable of them honestly….

gavin being like “maybe we’ll have to find a way to subtly get them out of the house a little earlier than usual” and then making a sarcastic comment abt them being sooo discreet - can you imagine being part of their friend group and just knowing that at any given moment they’re both constantly on the edge of jumping each other’s bones. freelancer is fucking insatiable in every universe and gavin is all too eager to go along with them and i love that for them

ALSO‼️ was anyone else brought to their knees over the unexpected domesticity that came with, “You remember what you said last night […] as we were staying up far later than we knew we should, given our plans today? And you said, explicitly to me, “Gavin, make sure I get up in the morning?” ?? i don’t know why it got me so bad but lord did it. and just the whole part where he was calling them beautiful? god i missed these two so SO much 🫠🫠

[adorastarot]

What to expect from Scorpio season 2023?

Scorpio season is basically upon us! Can you feel it? Autumn is here, and the weather has cooled down. We had a storm the past 2 days and a lot of flooding but today the sun is shining and the trees look absolutely stunning, so it seems like the perfect time for this reading!

"We are in the eye of the storm. We are going through intense times and Scorpio season will bring our attention, even more closely, to personal and collective shadows, shining a light in the dark and illuminating something we normally don’t see or don’t want to see."

How to choose a pile: Take a deep breath and close your eyes. Ask the universe if there is a message that you need to hear right now. You may either hear a number or be drawn to a pack once you open your eyes!

If the message doesn't resonate then it may not be for you.

♡ Private readings and extended readings are available - Check out my Ko-fi

♏♏♏♏LET'S GET TO IT♏♏♏♏

Please like and reblog <3

Pile 1!!! Welcome to this reading! Can I start off by saying that your energy feels sooo light! I know I spoke about the trees in the intro but your energy truly feels like a red leaf falling off a tree in the sunshine by the river. Your energy is impeccable. Even if you aren’t feeling it right now or if times have been rough for you after the eclipse, know that Scorpio season is going to be good for you and you may even end up feeling more like yourself right now. You may feel like dancing in the rain during some gloomier days or having a picnic during the cooler but sunnier days. 

8 of pentacles, 4 of wands, the sun, temperance, the tower, the lovers

This may be due to your work life picking up. Work is going to be crazy for you in the best possible way! You may find yourself working at home a lot, even if things have been a bit stagnant for you, know that it’s about to change! Some of you may also be going on holidays at the very end of scorpio season - to a warmer country?! If so, don’t worry too much about your finances - things will work out for you. Work and finances may naturally preoccupy you and that’s ok pile 1. It’s about what you do with these worries. Don’t lock yourself away and stress by yourself. It’ll be ok for you to rely on others and request their help. 

This season, it will be important for you to practise restraint and moderation. Things will happen really quickly, the job situation will improve quickly - but the downstide of this is that you won’t have time for yourself and you will need to find balance. Your family life may improve too - but again you may feel like you are spending all of your time with other’s and none with yourself. So finding balanc will be very important. Out of the blue you may find that a soulmate of ours comes into your life?! I asked for a clarifier and we go the 3 of swords - for some of you this will be an ex creeping back into your life and you will need to tell them to go away - for others it will be a new soulmate who will help you heal from an ex.

I felt an eye roll coming in as soon as I started shuffling my cards for you pile 2 AHAHAHAH what’s gotten you so frustrated?! I feel like you are simply done with everyone else’s sh*t and you just want a break! Because you deserve one! Your energy feels soooo moody right now but that’s ok. Youdon’t need to try to be happy for someone else. If you feel like eye rolling, just eye roll! If you feel like face palming, do it! 

2 of swords, 6 of wands, the devil in reverse, the chariot, 4 of cups and page of cups

My dear pile 2, during scorpio season, the future is truly in your hands - what do you want to achieve? Do you have any plans? If so, then it is truly a blessing that the future is in your hands right now. Whether you take this season to work harder than ever or to take a breather - there is no wrong decision. You may have started a project during Libra season or at the very leats you’ve laid out the work during Libra season. You may not be where you want to be by the end of Scorpio season but by he end of Sag season? You are going to be an expert I am sure of it!

With the devil coming out in reverse for you pile 2, it will be important for you to establish boundaries and to not take any sh*t from anyone! Make sure you work on healthy boundaries especially since people will want to be around you, but you may need some “me-time!. If they are your friends, they will understand, No, you don’t need to reply to messages on the same day, nor do you need to hangout with your friend sif you are busy and if it will make you anxious. Focus on building healthy relationships. Even if you are’t sure what your healthy boundaries are yet, take the time to discover yourself and date yourself this month! Your energy may be quite low just before Halloween, so plan accordingly.

Do you feel like you are the only one who is getting rained on right now? Like the rainy clouds are following you around and bad luck just keeps chasing you. You may been feeling a tiny bit aggressive or just snappier than usual, but don’t worry this won’t last forever. Try to listen to your body and understand your need. What is making you feel this snappy? How can you move away from it? Even if all it takes it going for a run and exhausting that energy. Regardless of what it is. You are going through it and you need to be gentle with yourself.

The star, the hermit, the emperor, 8 of cups, 7 of wands, king of wands

Look at these cards! Scorpio season may be rather uneventful for you - at leats to start with. You may feel like retreating and spending quality time with yourself. Doing what makes you happy. You may feel very hopeful for the future, or at least for the end of the year. You may not want to get in trouble with anyone and just naturally avoid conflict this season. For some reason pile 3…I feel like you will be very comfortable in your body this season. This may translate to you buying some clothes that you wouldn’t usually - whether is an interesting fit for you, or a different colour, whateve ryou choose will definitely bring attention your way. You may even go underwear shopping which will without a doubt make your confidence skyrock! 

Things will go very smoothly for you until around the end of the month. Between 30/10-01/11 you may feel like everything is happening to you and not for you. You may break a couple of glasses, damage your favourite blanket or shrink your new clothes. During this time just be aware of your actions and follow instructions pile 3. You may want to get out of your comfort zone and try something new as well, just don’t let your clumsiness get in the way of you discovering a new hobby.

[crypticmillipede]

[percy jackson spoilers here up through Trials of Apollo and TSaTS]

listen i LOVEE the percy jackson series and its extended universe . BIG FAVORITE so trust me when i say i mean this with the UPMOST love:

gawd damn rick riordan keeps making these little choices in his writing that have me tweaking. like the way this man forgets his own lore. EGREGIOUS. pulls me out of the story. it’ll be the tiniest, most innocuous thing but it gets me everyyy time. happens more especially as you get into the later series, probably bc there’s just more stuff to keep track of. i loved TSaTS but it was especially bad there😭😭 wdym nico started playing Mythomagic in the 1940s ?? why is bianca here ?? and nico, who spends most of his time in the underworld, doesn’t know what the phlegethon is??

it’s other stuff too, i love the series but there so much missing potential for these characters that was just never fully explored.

Jason’s character had SO much potential. hello ???? child soldier trained by wolves since age 2, pressured with unwanted responsibility, forced to suppress emotions, remain stoic, be a leader. Rick could’ve done sooo much with that material. jason should get to break down, as a treat !! instead he comes off as a bit undeveloped, sort of hollow, not nearly as fleshed out as some of the other characters. he’s probably the least-liked main character in HoO, but i firmly believe that’s because Rick didn’t do his character idea justice, not because his concept was ACTUALLY boring. Not even going to go INTO what happened to him in ToA, bc i’ve GOT opinions about that but it’s too much rn.

and don’t get me started on Piper, man. the reveal in Trials of Apollo that [SPOILER SPOILER SPOILER] Piper was queer? GENIUS. SOOO much potential there. but now i’m going back and rereading HoO and it’s making me mad bc we GET Piper’s pov and it’s not foreshadowed or hinted at at all. and it could’ve been SO GOOD you guys😭😭 imagine a version of HoO where Piper’s struggling with Hera-induced comphet, warring with the false memories implanted in her brain vs the way she’s expected to act as a daughter of aphrodite vs the way she actually feels ??? UGH it could’ve been so good. but instead, it’s so obvious that this was not Rick’s original plan for Piper’s character, and it was something he threw in later on. missed opportunity for sure.

in general, a lot of missed opportunities in HoO. So many missed character interaction opportunities, so much that could’ve been delved into but wasn’t! Like I wish we could’ve gotten more about Percy and Annabeth post-Tartarus, see how they’re holding up after that dumper fire.

and i LOVE HoO, it’s my favorite out of the bunch! but i think i love it for what it could be, yk?? anyways yes thanks for coming to my rant, feel free to disagree with me that’s totally fine!! this is so unserious anyways lol just me sharing some thoughts about a series i love

[localfanbaselurker]

I’m watching “Voltron: Legendary Defender” for the first time and these are my compiled thoughts.

This is Season 3

(S 1-2) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8)

———————————————————————

<this one will be a little longer because I took more pictures when I watched these two seasons, as I got a little more invested in the show>

(Edit: apparently I can only put 10 pictures per post, so while I planned for this to be season 3 and 4, this has to be a solo season post because I have wayyyy too many thoughts and a lot of them need accompanying pictures)

Pre-Season 3

-> I wonder who is gonna be the new black paladin, I hope it’s Allura. Or Keith I guess, but his ass is NOT ready for leadership

-> I need to know where Shiro is. Bring back my Cruella Deville!

-> the witch is altean! This is gonna be sooo important I just know it

-> I wonder how Allura and Keith will interact now that she sorta accepted him being part galra. that’s actually a really interesting topic.

->Keith being galra is gonna be something very important as well I think.

-> Pidge BETTER find her brother and father this season or I swear Dreamworks is gonna catch these hands

Post-Season 3

-> ^if villain why hot?

->his ideals are giving Roman Empire. (I guess that makes sense considering he’s the prince of the Galra Empire)

->^hmmm.🤨🤔 (I know what you are)

->^Space TyLee! And Space Asami, too!

->^oh so Keith gets to be insecure now, I guess everyone gets their own “angst” episode

->^hes the first to comfort him! is this a “klance” moment? It feels like one

->^Once again have to talk about Allura and her dad. She already threw away all her dad’s memories and his “essence” of him. Now she can’t even stay connected to him by piloting his lion ☹️. I genuinely get so sad every time I think about her. 🙁 All I do at 3 am is cry. 😕

->I originally got super sad about that, but then she became the blue one and I was really happy. But I was reallyyyy confused about the schematics of the switches. (still kinda am) like the lions don’t fit their personalities. And isn’t it the point that they get chosen for a reason?? Like when the blue one chose Lance in s1? And the red one chose Kieth, etc. ?? I guess it makes sense for them to call on other paladins when Shiro “dies” (his ass is not dead, I’m 100% sure of that) but Allura fits Black/Red better imo.

-> But then again, I did like how it was executed/explained. “Oh Lance ur the new red one cus you accepted Keith as ur leader and now you have to be the right hand. Get it cus red is Voltron’s right arm??” like yeah. And of course:

->^Allurance!! I finally see it, now.

-> Also, my supposed question about “langst” was proven wrong, there’s more than just the “seventh wheel” episode.

“Not only am I not meant to be the leader, I guess… I guess now I’m not even meant to be a paladin”

He is really insecure about that isn’t he? Does any of this ever get resolved??

-> this season was huge for klance apparently. They have so many moments together. When they get dragged by evil elsa Lotor to that weird planet and have their lions talk face to face, the shoulder touch, them seeking each other out for/being the first to give the other comfort/reassurance, “Leave the math to Pidge” , Lance being the most upset that Keith isn’t at the parade thing, their teamwork in “Tailing a Comet”, “Yeah, who am I gonna make fun of?”

You guys just kept winning this season honestly slay.

-> The Lore drop that Coran did about the creation of Voltron/Original Paladins. Bro

->I’m still hung up on that. Honerva I could have saved you.

-> Gotta say though im all for an evil couple.

-> I loved all the S1 call backs to the original paladins “I’m a leg!” Like yeah 🩷 you are 💛 and the og blue paladin does the “lance in the intro” thing

->^When they form Voltron for the first time in the flashback, the colors are brighter, much like the original 80s show’s colors, and the captions later read “Defender of the Universe”, which was the name of the original Voltron show. This is an especially fun detail because not only are they honoring the “original paladins/voltron” of the show’s lore, they are also doing so in reference to the original show itself, which I think is all so beautiful

->Baby Allura is soooo cute!

-> We get Shiro back! I knew he wasn’t dead. Low key I was scared he lost another arm or something but no! He’s okay 🖤🤍

-> I did some research and it turns out he is in fact 25, I don’t know whether to be happier or sadder for him. On one hand, thank fuck he’s not like 15-17 like the others, on the other hand, he should be at the club. He should be finding love, he should be at his 9-5 paying taxes and doing laundry not having his arm chopped off and replaced with magic and having to fight in the space coliseum and then escaping and having to pilot a giant robot and be a part of an intergalactic war. (I suppose that last part is true for all of them, but the rest is shiro-specific, and it all makes me a little sad)

-> call me crazy but he looked hotter when his hair was long

-> on that note, WHERE did he find a razor. Did he just use a sword or something?? Like in mulan??

-> in “Tailing a Comet”, they apparently meet alternate space reality!Kuvira from atla:lok , and ASR!Bataar Jr. I mean, really, down to the bun and the mole, as well as the controlling dictatorship-esque behavior and the “really, this is actually for their own good” attitude when it comes to said controlling behavior. Did the writers of each show just share ideas or??

-> im so serious with that last question. The thing that came out of the “quintessence rift” that the original paladins had to fight? A dark spirit from LoK: Book 2: Spirits. Whatever tf happened to zarkon when he got too close? When Unalaq got possessed by Vaatu. I mean really, were they just passing cards like go fish?

->I genuinely cried when Keith left for the Blade of Marmora (to save time, I’m gonna start calling them the “Blades” or “BOM”)

-> however, I feel like him leaving for the blades is gonna be really plot relevant later on

-> I think that’s when S3 ended im pretty sure. I don’t have further thoughts other than those I could’ve discussed if I could upload enough pictures for my S4 thoughts that accompanied them.

These are thoughts I’ve had compiled for a while. I finished S3 on 06/26/24 and S4 on 06/30/24. As of today (07/3/24) I am on S5E3.

I will continue to post my thoughts/Updates on the tag “laura’s first vld”

[bigsoftmarshmallow]

Hello, how are you doing? Well, I hope?

I has things! X3

Oh… my gosh… How hilarious would it be if, when the Zonai first arrived, they actually were planning to be full-on colonizers?

But then Rauru & Sonia meet & it's like Disney's Pocahontas meets Steven Universe if the Greg/Rose relationship had taken place as the Gem War was going on.

Like, literally with “Colors of the Wind,” just replace Pocahontas with Sonia & John Smith with Rauru. But, like, make him Latin! XD

… Fudge, now I'm thinking about a literal Zonai civil war much like the one between Homeworld & the Crystal Gems with Rauru as Rose Diamond/John Smith, any other Zonai who agreed with him as the Crystal Gems, & the rest of the Zonai as Homeworld Gems.

(… Oh my gosh… In such a situation… Ganondorf is effing Renaldo from the “Rising Tides/Crashing Skies” episode! 🤣)

In fact… What if it was Rauru & Mineru’s mother who was the one who wanted to colonize Hyrule? (I shall call her Jueru!)

So, while he’s trying to bring Hyrule together so as to bring peace, which was already at war with itself, he's also secretly rebelling against his own mother.

…

What if the reason that there are no more Zonai is because of this possible civil war?

In fact, what if the reason that Rauru chose the style of government that he did was simply due to only having ever really known that one?

I mean, think about it. If the Zonai were really from the sky & if this were something legitimately unusual on Hyrule's Earth, then it's very, very probable that they, just as a society, were very isolated.

If so, it’s also possible that they, themselves, were an empire. Meaning that, logically, that’d be the sort of government that he & Mineru would know the most about & would be most prone to thinking about & considering.

And, if they were literally all part of it. Like, in a united sort of way, then depending on how many generations this were the case, the Rauru likely wouldn’t have practically any experience with them. He may not even know anything about them beyond intellectually.

Or, if the Zonai in charge (Jueru) was more tyrannical, he might not have even be aware that other such forms of government even existed. Or even if he did, his perceptions could’ve been colored by that individual or regime. (Though, those last 2 don’t seem nearly as fun as if it was literally just a result of faulty memory & human error. XD)

I imagine him just sort of blinking rather mystified & going, "... I... suppose that I forgot that there were other kinds... Tell me more..."

Like, in my mind, he was aware of them, but because those 2 particular thoughts simply hadn't connected inside his brain yet, he's never really considered them as viable possiblities.

And what if, for having helped the then forgotten Hyrule to end the fighting, the people of the land chose him as their king?

What if, in an attempt to honor the lands culture & history, he chose the name “Hyrule,” in a similar way that one might choose to name a new kingdom “Camelot” or similar to why Evan Pettiwhisker Tildrum from Ni no Kuni 2 named his new kingdom “Evermore?”

Which, I understand, “cool story, still imperialism,” but at the same time, you could say something very similar about Ganondorf, too. “Cool motive, still murder.”

… Actually… this could be a really cool angle to explore in a fic or something… Though, I feel like it'd be a bit too ambitious for me...

Sounds like a Steven Universe storyline and I AM HERE FOR IT!

Oh, if my brain functioned like it did a few years back, I would sooo be here to take on the challenge. I DO encourage you to make an attempt! A sentence a day is a sentence more than nothing! You can do it if you truly want to!

I really wanted to see how such a path could go, so... ChatGPT for a small scene:

The moonlight bathed the courtyard in a serene glow, casting long shadows over the ancient stonework of Hyrule Castle. Sonia stood by the fountain, her golden hair glimmering in the soft light, her eyes reflecting the stars above. She hummed softly, a tune reminiscent of the melodies of old Hyrule, as she waited for Rauru.

Rauru approached quietly, his heart swelling at the sight of her. His thoughts were heavy with the weight of his dual roles: uniting Hyrule and defying his mother’s imperial ambitions. He reached out, and Sonia turned, her face lighting up with a warm smile.

"Rauru," she greeted, her voice gentle and soothing.

He took her hands in his, their touch grounding him. "Sonia, I’ve been thinking," he began, his voice carrying a mixture of determination and uncertainty. "About our people, our future... and the legacy we wish to leave."

Sonia’s expression turned curious, encouraging him to continue. "Go on," she urged softly.

Rauru sighed, glancing up at the stars as if seeking their guidance. "My mother, Jueru, she envisioned a different path for the Zonai. A path of conquest and control. But when I met you, everything changed. Your people, your culture... it’s something worth preserving, not dominating."

Sonia squeezed his hands, her eyes shining with understanding and love. "Rauru, you’ve already done so much. You’ve brought peace to Hyrule, united the tribes. But we can’t stop there. We must build a future where all voices are heard."

Rauru nodded, feeling a sense of resolve wash over him. "I want to honor Hyrule’s history, its people. When they chose me as their king, it wasn’t for power. It was for hope, for unity. That’s why I named our kingdom ‘Hyrule,’ to signify a new beginning."

Sonia smiled, her heart swelling with pride. "And together, we’ll ensure that Hyrule remains a beacon of hope and harmony."

Their moment was interrupted by Mineru, Rauru’s sister, who approached with a worried expression. "Brother, the council is convening. There are rumors of unrest among our people. They fear our mother’s influence still lingers."

Rauru’s expression hardened with determination. "Then we shall prove them wrong. We will show them that our path is one of peace, not tyranny."

As they walked towards the council chamber, Sonia looked up at Rauru, her eyes filled with unwavering support. "And remember, Rauru, you’re not alone in this. We stand together, as one."

In the shadows, Ganondorf watched with narrowed eyes. He had his own plans, his own ambitions. But for now, he observed, waiting for the right moment to strike. The Zonai’s civil war had left scars, and he intended to exploit them.

As Rauru and Sonia entered the chamber, the future of Hyrule hung in the balance. The legacy of the Zonai, the dream of a united Hyrule, and the shadows of the past all converged in this pivotal moment. And with Sonia by his side, Rauru knew they had a fighting chance to build a kingdom that truly honored its people’s heritage and dreams.

[mellybouboulove]

My guardian angel🤍𓆩♡𓆪☁️

Chapter 7

Plot summary: Drug Dealer Ellie Williams X OFC slowburn fic, out of universe and takes place in college, set in the 2000s. Smut content to come.

previous: Chapter 6 , next : Chapter 8

Tags: #wlw #sapphic #drugdealer!ellie #modern!ellie #tlou #slowburn #smut #fluff #tlouau #au #modernau #drugs

CHAPTER 7

The morning after, I woke up just a couple minutes before Ellie and felt like the luckiest individual alive. I enjoyed these precious minutes the universe gave me to contemplate her peaceful sleepy face laying just next to mine. She looked so cute and innocent, her breathing was calm and relaxed, her hair was messy and falling on her face. The sun rays that were enlightening the room through the thin curtains of my window were reflecting on her face but didn’t seem to bother her in her deep sleep which helped me fight the urge to wake her up and cover her face with kisses. 

My room was a mess, our clothes were spread everywhere, I could see my bra on the edge of the bed next to one of her socks while my skirt was under my bedside table and her boxers near the door. The sheets were half removed from the mattress and the blanket was upside down, only covering our chests. I passed my fingers through her fluffy hair, not strong enough to resist the temptation anymore. I noticed she started to move and quickly took my hand out of her face, pretending nothing happened. She finally opened her eyes, yawning and smiling when she saw me. 

- Morning babe, did you sleep well?  - Best sleep of my life. She answered with a raspy morning voice which made me smile and giggle.  - Was I THAT great last night ? I chuckled. - Yes, you were sooo so great.  - Thanks, you were not so bad yourself.  - Not so bad ugh? That’s it? - I'm just kidding, it was perfect. I never felt so good with anyone before. I feel very good around you Ellie.  - Me too. I really like you, I care for you a lot, you’re an amazing person and hanging out with you has been making me feel so much better too. But I really want you to get better. You should focus on yourself and on your healing process. I don’t want this to go further before you manage your addiction; I will stay by your side and help you with everything you need but I don’t want anything to be official before you handle this. I hope you understand.

It took me some seconds to process this. It felt like a knife in the heart but I knew she had good intentions.

- Oh okay. I understand, you have a lot going on too. I don't want us to get together if it is to become a burden for you either. I guess you’re right it’s better like that. 

Saying those words broke my heart but it was the right thing to do. She thanked me for understanding, kissed me and took me in her arms. As we started cuddling and about to make it the only plan for the day, her phone rang. She rolled over me to reach it and picked it up.

- Yes? yes. okay. now ? ugh, ok. okay okay I’m coming. 

She sighed as she hung up. 

- Ugh I’m sorry babe I have some work today. She kissed me once more before standing up and collecting her clothes to dress up. 

She went to get herself ready and then I heard the door slamming, her footsteps running from outside and the sound of her car driving away. I was now left alone with my thoughts; I kept on staring at the ceiling and didn’t move an inch since she left the bed. I felt the warmth she left next to me slowly fade away as I kept her words on repeat in my mind. I will have to put in so much effort for her to accept me; I’m already feeling bad again, the creepling need for drugs in my blood submerging me again. 

I tried to focus on something else. I placed my Britney Spears CD in my Hi-Fi system and blasted some music to motivate me. I started to clean my bedroom then took some time for myself. I took a bath, did some beauty masks and shaved. I watched TV and chilled a little as I kept on thinking about Ellie and about last night, I smiled at the thought. It was helping not to think about drugs. 

Four hours later, Ellie still wasn’t home and I had no idea when she would come back. I got bored and decided to go for a walk to get some fresh air. This day alone gave me the time to take a step back and put everything into perspective. Ellie was right, there’s no way this is gonna work if I don’t get better first. I want to give us the chance to work, and I have to try my best to get better not only for her but also for me. And just like that I began the first step of my desintoxication journey.