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alpacaparkaseok · 4 years ago

Text

Shut Eye

pairing/genre: idol!Yoongi x reader, fluff

premise: In a world where every night you meet your soulmate in your dreams only to forget their face and voice when you wake up, you’re now more desperate than ever to find them.

word count: 2.6k

a/n: I was listening to the piano version of ‘For Forever’ from Dear Evan Hansen while writing this...so maybe that explains it?? THIS IS SOOO CHEESY YOU GUYS

requested by anon - thanks for the fun request, hope you enjoy! a picture of your ask/request will be at the bottom of the post. Thank you!

_________________________________

You awoke with a gasp, the covers flung aside in an effort to grab the notebook and pen you kept handy on your nightstand. Not bothering to flip on the lamp, you used the little moonlight filtering in through your window to write down the events of your dream.

You spent most nights in the dreamscape with your soulmate, his face and voice a blurry mess in your mind. The two of you would talk for hours, that much you know. The general idea of the conversation would stick with you as well, but beyond anything else, you’d wake up with the same familiar feeling.

The specific brand of heartbreak that tends to accompany goodbyes.

Tonight’s dream had been something entirely different, though. Try as you might, your mind can’t seem to conjure up the exact words your soulmate had so calmly whispered in your ear as you stood on a red carpet facing innumerable flashing cameras. However, one thing was for certain.

He was trying to send you a message.

He was trying to find you out in this big world.

You’ve made a bullet-point list now, with the words red carpet, famous?? and beautiful suit starting off the list. As the list continued on, you only grew more and more confused. Why did your soulmate choose that dreamscape? After years of the usual sitting room and long chats, something must have happened to make him change.

Frustrated, you scanned last night’s notes to see if anything out of the ordinary had happened. You nearly gave up before one of the final bullet-points caught your attention.

we talked about family

did we talk about our family??

Eyebrows scrunched and lips pouted, you wracked your brain for any recollection of the conversation from the night before. Indeed, you remembered waking up with the distinct feeling of discussing future baby names, but for the life of you, you couldn’t remember what he had said he liked. What you did remember was that it was a name that had made you laugh, and that he had been upset about it for the rest of the evening.

Not too upset, though. He’d still quietly warned you in the way he always did when he knew he was about to wake up. Softly lacing his hand through yours, running his thumb over the back of your knuckles until in the blink of an eye he was gone.

There had been several occasions when you’d woken up still feeling the ghost of his hand on yours.

The notebook in your hands glared up at you, an unwelcome reminder that you were nowhere near close to understanding the meaning of your most recent dream.

Normally, you would have just let it go. But today was different. Today you woke up just knowing that he had meant something by the dream. The way he’d brought you out on that red carpet, your arm linked through his as he led you toward a group that was already posing for pictures-

Wait. A group? You’d forgotten that part. Another bullet-point was added to the growing list.

part of a group (friends?)

Your eyes drifted shut as you tried to remember any more details, the ways the cameras flashed seemed to impair your vision as you’d looked at the group that had smiled as you neared. One of them had made some extra space for you and your soulmate, and you’d nearly keeled over when you saw who it was.

But who was it?

You sighed, scribbling one last bullet-point before your brain quit functioning.

I recognized the friends - famous?

It was a bit discouraging to look down at the list and see so many question marks, but you paid it no mind as you tossed your notebook back onto the nightstand and found the strength to get up for the day.

You’d just have to wait until the next dream.

•••••••••••••••••••••••

“I have no idea where this is going,” you admitted while staring up at the ceiling, sprawled out on your bed. “But I just know that he’s trying to tell me something. You know?”

Your best friend, Ji-eun, just laughed on the other side. “I’m sure he was...but honestly, who knows? Maybe he just wanted a change of scenery.”

“Ugh. You’re no fun.”

“Well, I hate to break it to you, but no more fun for you tonight. I’ve got to go to bed. Got to wake up early tomorrow, remember? It’s a big day.”

“Oh, that’s right! Are you nervous?”

You’d nearly forgotten that your best friend was also one of South Korea’s most beloved singers. On most days, you forgot her stage name, too.

“No, not really. I just usually hate having to sit there by myself, you know? There are so many groups, and them I’m just by myself. Looking beautiful.”

“Aww, poor IU, all alone.” You teased. “I’d go with you, but-”

In an instant, Ji-eun, or IU, squealed and you knew that she had an idea. “Yes! Come with me!! I’ll sneak you in! You won’t even have to worry about the red carpet- wait.”

You winced, having held the phone at a distance from your ear so as to not immediately lose your hearing. “Oh no, now what? You know I’m not fit for award shows, Ji-eun.”

“Didn’t you say that your dream was on the red carpet?”

You blinked. “Yeah.”

“Sooo,” Ji-eun dragged out, “Maybe you’ll see him.”

A wry laugh escaped you. “What makes you think he would recognize me even if he was there? Or that I would recognize him?”

IU made an indecisive noise. “Well, you already described his beautiful suit-”

“Hey, no teasing. It was absolutely gorgeous.”

“Exactly! If there’s a guy that shows up wearing that suit, then maybe that’s him! And, maybe he’s part of a group! You would recognize the group if you saw them, wouldn’t you?”

“You’re just trying to get me to come with you,” you drawled, ignoring the little spark of hope.

“Obviously. Hey, you know that really pretty red dress you bought not that long ago?”

“Yeah.”

“Wear that, and work your dreamscape magic or something to help him remember the red dress. He’ll recognize you when he sees you tomorrow!”

With an eye roll you’re pretty sure Ji-eun heard through the phone, you groaned. “If he’s even there. If.”

“So you’ll do it?”

In the end, it was the memory of having to say goodbye every morning without even remembering who you were saying goodbye to that had you agreeing.

••••••••••••••••••

Falling into your dreams had always felt more like waking up, the urge to stretch and run around almost too much to deny. Tonight, you entered the familiar sitting room that you’d frequented nearly every night for the past few years.

Your soulmate is waiting for you when you enter, his back turned to you.

A part of you knows that the two of you have been through this many times before. You’ve technically met your soulmate hundreds of times - maybe even thousands at this point. But every night, it’s the same little feeling of anticipation as you wait for him to turn around.

Always wondering who it might be. Always dreading the moment you wake up and forget his face all over again, waiting for the next dream to identify him.

He’s in the black, lightly checkered suit that he wore last night, not a single strand of his black hair out of place as he turns around with wide eyes.

Your breath is momentarily caught in your throat as you suddenly recognize him, not only from the previous dreams but from nearly everywhere else in the waking world.

“Hey,” Yoongi mumbles, a soft smile gracing his lips as he looks at you. “You look beautiful.”

You looks down at the red dress you’re wearing, the same one you’re planning on wearing at the award show. Nodding at his suit, you grin.

“Are you wearing that to the award show today?”

He nods, stepping toward you. “I wish you could go, I know that I’d be able to find you-”

“I am.”

Yoongi stops, his mouth slightly open. He takes a single step toward you. “You are? How?”

“Ji-eun is my best friend, remember?”

He takes a moment to recall that tidbit of information about you, nodding. “So...we’ll see each other.”

“I hope so.” You tilt your head. “But will you recognize me? It was so hard for me to remember any details after last night’s dream, I feel like it’s getting harder.”

“I think it is,” Yoongi agrees, striding over to you and grabbing your hand even as a light pink dusts over his cheeks. “But I don’t think I’ll be able to forget this dress.” With a wink that belies his shy nature, Yoongi leads you out onto the red carpet, where cameras are waiting.

He walks you through the event, glancing at you every few seconds as though afraid that you’ll disappear at any moment. That’s certainly a valid concern - it’s happened plenty of times.

You’ve just made it to where the rest of the members are standing when you feel the tell-tale pull back toward reality.

You’ll be waking up at any moment now. Most likely because of that pesky nest of birds that have decided to camp out just outside of your windows.

Instinctively your grip on Yoongi’s arm tightens, and he turns to you. He can tell by the look in your eyes that you’re about to leave.

“What if it doesn’t work?” You blurt out, taking in every last detail of him. From the way his cheeks are still pink to the fit of his suit.

Yoongi absolutely shocks you as he presses a chaste kiss to your forehead, pulling you a little closer. His breath that dusts over your ear feels so real as he whispers gently to you.

“We’ll find a way. I promise.”

•••••••••••••••••••

It was the same dream as the night before; the same infuriating goodbye that seeped into your bones as you hurtled awake. However, this time, you could have sworn that you recalled a puppy-dog gaze that was begging you to remember him as you left the dreamscape.

You’d worn the red dress you currently had on, the red lace falling just below your knees. A part of you remembered the way your soulmate had reacted when you’d waltzed into the dreamscape, the way you had casually linked your arm through his as you walked onto the red carpet.

Today you couldn’t find the energy to write anything in your full notebook, opting to bury your head in your hands.

“Who are you?” You groaned. The feeling of his soft lips against your forehead has you sighing, wishing that you could replay it all over again. After shooting a glare at the red dress hanging in your closet, you grabbed your notebook to write down one note before getting up.

We love each other

•••••••••••••••••••

Ji-eun - er, IU, instructed you to wait for her at the entrance to the photo-op portion of the red carpet. She would be busy doing little interviews before that, which honestly didn’t seem that appealing to you.

Especially not when you were so nervous you thought you were going to throw up.

Staring down at your red dress, you nearly jumped out of your skin when there was a hand on your shoulder.

“Ha! You’re jumpy today,” IU teased, “I wonder why.”

“Oh good, you’re finished.” You ignored her tease, happy to get moving. “You look amazing.”

It wasn’t a surprise, but she still deserved to be complimented. IU looked absolutely ethereal in her flowy green gown, the two of you looking like some sort of Christmas ad.

“You look great as well!” She motioned toward the carpet. “I think we’re just after this group. Ready?”

Armed with a smile and your best friend at your side, you ventured onto the carpet. It was easier than you though it would be; most of the time you were stepping aside to allow the photographers a clear view of IU.

You’ve nearly made it to the end when a fresh round of screaming picks up.

There’s only one group that can command that much attention.

You couldn’t help but crane your neck as you see BTS walk onto the carpet, just a couple of groups behind you. Your eyes widened on their own accord when you saw them, unable to shake the feeling of having met them before.

Of course, they pay you no mind. However, you couldn’t help but chuckle at the way Suga took a moment to get up on his tippy-toes, looking around. You went to point it out to IU, nobody paying either of you any mind as you walk off the carpet. You lost all ability to speak, however, as you took a closer look.

It’s the suit.

The one that is checkered with a light gray, the one that fit your soulmate just right.

It’s the black hair that’s perfectly styled.

And as Suga turned to look your way, you didn’t miss the way his eyes caught on your red dress.

Almost like he had been looking for a red dress.

In the span of a single heartbeat, you made eye contact with the idol, the same question lingering in your eyes.

For Min Yoongi, that’s all it took.

Abandoning all precepts, he took off down the carpet, heading straight toward you. From the way the other members took one look at you and your red dress and immediately began speaking to those present, you knew that they’d been waiting for this. Knew that they weren’t planning on keeping this low-key, because there was no real way to do that.

Not as Yoongi saw you and knew.

You managed to take three steps toward him before he was before you, grinning with his gummy smile even as his ears turned red.

“Quick,” Yoongi breathed out, reaching down to take your hands in his. “If it’s really you, tell me what name we can’t agree on for a girl.”

The question threw you off guard, making you laugh. But after a moment, you found with a gasp that you remember.

You remembered everything.

The way the two of you first awkwardly stumbled into the dreamscape at the age of nineteen. How you eventually opened up to each other, grew to care deeply about the other.

You remembered the nights when the two of you were rambunctious and laughing at stupid stories Yoongi told you about the boys.

You remembered the nights when you sat in silence, dreading the moment you would have to wake up.

And you remembered that just a few days ago, Yoongi had brought up family. You’d spent the night talking about how many children you’d want, how you’d raise them, what you’d name them.

And there was one horrible name that he loved and you hated, and neither of you were willing to budge on it.

“Ugh,” you groaned even as you smiled. “We are not naming her Pearl! It would make her sound like a pirate ship!”

The cameras flashed, which made Yoongi’s eyes glimmer as he laughed along with you. Then, without a care in the world except for knowing for certain that it was all real, Yoongi tugged you closer until your foreheads touched and all you could see were his dark eyes pulling you in.

“I told you we’d find a way.”

Hundreds of cameras flashed, documenting the moment and effectively labeling it a dream come true.

masterlist

#Yoongi x reader #idol!yoongi x reader #idol!bts x reader #yoongi fluff #suga fluff #suga x reader #idol!suga x reader #yoongi x y/n #bts x y/n #suga x y/n #bts fluff #bts soulmate au #yoongi soulmate au #bts shared dreams au #suga shared dreams au

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moonbeamwritings · 4 years ago

Note

Hi! This is the twins anon! Based off of the previous ask with Giorno's half siblings, could you write a scenario of the gang finding out their traveling to Italy to meet Giorno? I really enjoy the way you write!! 🙏💞

(you can find anon’s previous request here) hello again!! welcome back! thank you, anon, i hope you like this one too! 💓

bucci gang + finding out Giorno’s twin half siblings are coming to Italy

With a click of the phone, Giorno leaned back in his chair, releasing a long, drawn out sigh.

He’d only found out about his twin half siblings a few months ago when they’d managed to track down a way to get into contact with him and now, after only three or four phone calls, they were coming to visit him in Italy.

He was excited despite the nerves still boiling beneath the surface of his skin, hands trembling as he tried to hold his pen steady. This was meant to be fun, he reminded himself gently, calmly putting the pen down before moving to stand and pace. Surely they wouldn’t be anything like his absent father or his neglectful, abusive stepfather and mother, right?

Sighing again, his feet traveled back and forth along the floor as his mind reeled. He closed his eyes as he moved, reminding himself again and again that the loneliness and pain of his past was nothing more than a distant memory, lost to time as he moved on, gaining new friends and a new purpose in life as he went. With one final trip to the other side of the room, Giorno’s hands ceased to tremble as he realized he could finally make connections with his family on his own terms, that he could finally maintain a semblance of control. He wasn’t a helpless child anymore, if things didn’t work out, it wouldn’t really matter in the end. He had the team and that’s what counted

One problem remained.

How exactly was he going to tell the team?

He gathered the team in the kitchen of their headquarters before finally breaking the news.

“As you all know, I have twin half siblings.” Watching for nods of agreement, Giorno continued on, “Well, they’re coming to visit in a few weeks, so I’ll be busy while they’re here.”

“No way,” Narancia and Mista broke out in unison.

“Do you think they’ll have crazy powerful stands like Giorno’s?” Mista questioned, leaning over to excitedly chat with Narancia.

“I don’t know,” Narancia replied pensively, “I hope so. Imagine how lame it would be if they didn’t.”

With a well-timed smack to the back of their heads, Fugo was quick to join in on the discussion, “At least they’re visiting at all. They’re Giorno’s family, so who cares what kind of stands they have?”

The three continued to bicker about the intricacies of familial stands and the stupidity behind having a stand competition when the twins finally got here while Giorno watched with reserved amusement. He was glad they were so excited.

Abbacchio, on the other hand, hadn’t even removed his headphones, instead opting to continue playing his music with his eyes closed. Giorno nearly laughed at the sight. Abbacchio was nothing if not consistent in his disinterest in literally anything and everything going on in Giorno’s life. When it really came down to it though, he knew that Abbacchio would still make his presence known when the pair arrived, curious but refusing to admit it.

Bruno placed a firm hand on his shoulder, offering the teenager a friendly smile, “I’ll make sure our usual room at Libeccio will have enough chairs for everyone. I’m excited to meet them.”

“Thank you, Bucciarati.”

As he watched the group chatter on, Giorno’s own excitement seemed to grow. At the end of the day, he could weather this new experience so long as he had his new friends by his side.

#moonbeam answers #bucci gang x reader #bucci gang imagine #bruno bucciarati x reader #leone abbacchio x reader #giorno giovanna x reader #guido mista x reader #narancia ghirga x reader #pannacotta fugo x reader #jjba x reader #jjba imagine

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jinkicake · 4 years ago

Note

no thoughts just running away in a flowy gown through the streets of Italy from don giorno

((((anon... ANON... okay give me like ten minutes to post my other works and then Imma come back and just dump my entire BRAINROT that I have because of this post WAAIIITTT this is so good,,, you’re.... a genius))))

A/N: Okay..... this is so messy, so rough and I can’t believe I wrote 1.6k words in less than an hour BUT... here you are Anon~~~ a little something based off of your message hehehe it’s lowkey yandere :0 (Also... in part five theyre in naples right? LMFAO i can never remember) Anyway I have an early class tmr so I have to cut it short so this is not editied and -again- very messy,,, I will try to fix it later but for now~~~ here is my take on running away from Giorno LOL

Giorno x Reader

This has lowkey yandere themes...

WC- 1,637

All you want at this moment is to rip your constricting dress off. The thin, pale blue material is suffocating, every layer tightens around your skin and makes it that much harder to run. You’ll do anything to help you free yourself from Giorno’s clutches. And as of right now, you have your foot in the door.

At least, you think you do. Unbeknownst to you, the little ladybug necklace adorning your neck has other thoughts.

It was smart to leave (escape) in the early afternoon, right as your fiancé was in the midst of all of his meetings and when it was most crowded in the streets. You could easily blend in with all the other people, at least until nightfall.

It has become your mission to get as far away from Naples as you can before the moon starts to rise. You quickly found out that is easier said than done.

If only the streets weren’t filled with his men, if only every single person who makes eye contact with you wasn’t on his side.

You knew that the moment Giorno had found out about this, about your betrayal, that there would be dire consequences. Yet again, it was never your intention to allow him to ever find you again.

Given by your own personal estimation, you had about another five minutes before he was alert of your missing status. The guards stationed at your shared apartment change positions every twenty minutes to ensure that not one of them gets any special amount of time with you. The helicopter gaurds hovering over you were such a pain. Too bad you had already disposed of those on stand, it’ll be a quick affair once everyone notices your lack of presence.

“Fuck,” You murmur as your flat, clearly not made for running, catches on one of the cracks in the street. Your chest heaves up and down with each breath as you stare at the unfamiliar crowd trying to pick up on any familiar face. A wave of relief washes over you when you realize that you don’t recognize any of them.

You can do this, you can do this. Start over, somewhere new, somewhere like France or Switzerland. You can escape.

And you truly believed that, you kept running with all of your might and didn’t stop to look back once. After some time, the streets started to mesh together and it felt as if you had started running around in circles. You didn’t have time to worry about that, not as the sun was setting and the streets were starting to clear up. Any leverage, any chance of escape that you had, would be lost if you did not make it out of Naples.

Maybe you could find a bus that would take you up to Rome, then up and the hell away from Italy. Maybe a boat would be quicker, a motorcycle?

All at once, your senses start to close in as you realize that you did not take advantage of your situation. You did not think this through, you saw a chance and you took it. You’ll fight until your last breathe, until Giorno finds you again. There is no way in hell you’re going to let this golden opportunity go to waste.

But, God, had you fucked up. You fucked up, really bad, but deep in your heart you know it was worth every single second.

It doesn’t matter how far or how fast you run now.

The abandoned alleyways tell you everything you need to know, it’s now completely dark outside and late into the night. The streets are cleared, silent, except for the telltale sounds of your shoes lighting pounding into the pavement.

You tightly bunch your hands up in the sides of your dress before pulling the fabric up and running with all of your might. You should have ditched the dress earlier, it was only ever holding you back but it’s not like you had another change of clothes.

Giorno always liked you dressed up.

Almost as if you were his little doll.

A black car stops suddenly at the end of the street, blocking off the entire road and cutting through the silence with a loud screech of its tires. It’s not enough to intimidate you, you still refuse to give up.

Almost too quickly you swiftly turn around, hot on your heels ready to run away, right into a broad chest.

The black suit fills your vision before you can actually see the figure, but you can still feel their presence right away. You’re done for, you’re done for.

“You ruined your pretty dress,” Giorno’s soft face portrays a frown as his eyebrows furrow in disinterest. His light eyes still hold concern only for you. He reaches his hand up to brush the stray strands of hair from your cheeks and you immediately flinch, taking a step back only to bump into something else.

This time you’re almost too scared to turn around, you would much rather face Giorno than the other figure. An unpleasant huff causes you to shakily glance over your shoulder and face Golden Experience Requiem. It’s staring down at you with betrayal deep in its eyes, hands twitching next to your own.

You couldn’t take the stand on even if you wanted to.

You try to move, step away, but the stand is much quicker and grabs your biceps to hold you still. Its pants rest heavily in your ears and you don’t even dare to look up at Giorno who has started pacing in front of you.

You feel so stupid, oh so stupid, the dress is filthy and dirty. Everything is torn at the seams, your shoes are worn down, your hair is flung all over your face, you’re a complete and utter mess.

It only gets worse when you hear the robotic sounds behind you. Still gutted with betrayal, Golden Experience Requiem utters a single word in his polite tone that matches his user’s.

“Why?”

Your eyes slightly widen at this and as a result, the grip on your biceps grows tighter.

“Why? Why?” The mechanic voice demands and you’re nearly shaking beneath its grip. Now, you know why Giorno is so silent. He never loses his composure in front of you, he is always calm and ahead, always one step in front of you. With his stand, however, he can’t help but express all his feelings as he desires.

An apology feels heavy on your tongue because you’re not sorry, you have nothing to apologize for.

“I wanted to go home.” You daringly lift your gaze to look straight at your fiancé, glaring at him as if it could make him disappear.

“Then let’s, we can discuss the matters of this evening there,” Giorno takes a step toward you, and he is beside you, resting his hand on your shoulder as he waits for you to turn around and follow him.

Your stubborn eyes, filled with tears, nearly makes him sigh.

“Please don’t be difficult,” He tries to cup your face but his own stand pulls you tighter into its chest. Golden Experience Requiem has always been so possessive over you and never afraid to show it. Giorno knows that he couldn’t call his stand back even if he tried, not until you were safely in the car.

“I want to go home.” You repeat, too calmly for your current panicked state. A long, cold arm drapes over your chest and you feel your feet start to rise against the hard road beneath you.

The stand is literally dragging you back to the car with no remorse.

And stupidly, you make another mistake.

“Not with you,” At this point, you’re sure you won’t make it out of this experience alive. You keep making it worse and worse for yourself as if you can’t help it.

Giorno stills, and the slight clench of his jaw is enough to have you sprinting back into his car.

“Then with who?” He asks through his teeth, glaring harshly at the side of your face as you continue to look away from him. It’s not enough for him and he tightly grabs your jaw with his hand to force you to look at him. His fingers dig into your cheeks when you still refuse to look at him. “With who, darling?”

No air is flowing through your system. You can’t concentrate on anything, not on the stand behind you tugging on your body possessively or your fiancé holding you just as angrily.

“Myself,” You finally tell him honestly and look up at him, Giorno physically calms down at the sight.

“I can take you there if it means you will stop acting out,” The offer, the bargain, falls short on your ears and a new frown takes up your face.

Giorno is taunting you, teasing you.

You know there is no chance in hell he would let you go home, let you visit the place you miss the most. He knows he’ll never get you back if he does. Giorno is just using this to get you back in the car.

He’s done it once before, and this certainly won’t be the last time he does it either.

“I will bring you there, (Y/N).” He restates and you stubbornly hold your place. “You don’t want to go anymore?” His jaw ticks and you can hear the irritation filling his voice. “It’s so hard to please you,” The tightening grip on your biceps shows his frustration even if he doesn’t physically face you with it. Golden Experience Requiem has you under lock and key, hugging you so tightly that you’re almost gasping for air. “One last chance.”

One last chance to take him up on his pseudo offer, to entertain his twisted fantasy.

This is your split road, lick your fiancé’s wounds or let the gash grow bigger and bigger.

Either way, you’ll end up back at his estate, now all that matters is the punishment waiting back for you.

You can’t find it in yourself to move your legs.

#giorno x reader #jjba x reader #jjba x y/n #jjba x you

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agreatescape89 · 4 years ago

Text

Mikasa x Reader One Shot

requested by anon

Eren and Armin fight for Y/N but they fall for Mikasa instead

Gender Neutral pronouns Words: 1678

Today was the beginning of the 104th training corps. Y/N stood in formation listening to what the terrifying, elder instructor had to say. Though his words were not necessarily encouraging, they had all the motivation they needed to be a part of the military. Next to Y/N was a tall raven haired girl who stood stoically. “Hi”, they said shyly, hoping to make new friends before their training days actually began. The raven haired girl slightly looked at them with a blank expression and only nodded in response. “He seems like a hard ass, doesn't he?” This time the girl didn’t even look at Y/N. Feeling they may have said something wrong, they tried to save it. “I’m Y/N by the way, what’s your name?” “Mikasa'', she finally responded, in a deep but soft voice. “Which regiment are you looking to join? I’m going into the survey corps.” They said a bit excitedly, happy to be making a breakthrough with this girl. “Me too.” Mikasa replied with a little above monotone voice. “HEY!” A shout came from the wrinkled, frankly terrifying man. “WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING? IF YOU CAME HERE TO SOCIALIZE YOU CAME TO THE WRONG DAMN PLACE” He yelled right in front of their faces. “We’re sorry Sir, it won't happen again.” Mikasa calmly said. Y/N was terrified, plus everyone was looking at them. “Maybe if you weren't yelling so much we’d listen better..” They said without thinking. Everyone's jaw dropped, they're dead the surrounding cadets thought in unison, whispers began to surround them. Shadis stared them dead in the eyes ``”what did you just say to me, you think I should stop yelling? Well, have I got some news for you…” He then proceeded to yell straight in their face as loud as they could going on a rant Y/N only found intellilable, but they stood there straight as a log not scared anymore but only visibly pissed off. “ARE YOU GONNA STOP TALKING, CADET, OR ARE YOU GOING TO LEAVE.” He yelled after a few minutes of stressing his lung capacity. Though it was so tempting for Y/N to leave right there, they stayed because they had a mission, a fate, to stop the war. “Ill stop sir” Y/N said darkly but boldly. Shadis made a sound and returned to his orientation speech. Mikasa was kinda impressed at what she just witnessed, very impressed. She felt something warm build up in her heart that only increased when she looked at Y/N. But she had to ignore that for now, she didn't want Shadis to yell at her.

The following days, Mikasa couldn’t get Y/N out of her mind. She hoped she’d see her again, in fact, she was sure of it.

They were alone their first day, it didn't take long to make friends though. Y/N was reading a book about animals, ones that didn't exist anymore, I suppose that would be an intriguing thing for anybody to notice, but it was especially for the blonde male that had walked over to Introduce himself. He’d had that book before, but he didn't know anyone else was interested in that stuff, let alone have another copy of a taboo book. He couldn't stop himself from striking up a conversation, to him it was almost like love at first sight. Y/N invited him to sit down and they went through the book together, discussing all of it’s interesting contents. At some point, Armin noticed that whenever he had looked over at Y/N, his face would warm and his heart would feel intensely in a way he couldn’t describe or realize. Soon the dinner bell rang and Armin invited them to sit with him and his friends.

When the two reached their table, Y/N was surprised to see a familiar face. “Oh hey Mikasa!” The girl’s cheeks felt so hot, and her heart burned with excitement, though her face showed none of it, especially with her scarf covering a portion of her face. “Hey Y/N, Hi Armin,” She responded quietly. Armin introduced everyone and they all sat and talked for a while. The other one of Armin’s friends was a brown haired boy named Eren, he was kinda crazy. He talked about his goal in the survey corps, to eradicate all the titans. Y/N respected that, that’s partially why they were here. It didn't take them long to become friends.

Everyday they’d meet and hang out with each other. They had fun, even though training was hard when the four of them were together it was peaceful. That was, until they met Jean Kirschtein. It all started when Y/N accidentally bumped into him in the dining hall, knocking his tray and everything on right on the muddy floor. “What’s your fucking problem.” The tall, long faced man said. “Jean calm down they didn’t mean it, we can just share my food.” A black haired, freckled boy beside him tried to stop the storm before the rain. “Don’t talk to them like that, it’s not their fault don’t be so rude!” Eren said before Jean even thought to leave the situation alone, and he definitely wasn't now. “Eren it’s fine, here Jean just take my tray, I’m so sorry” Y/N also trying to defuse the situation. “I don’t want your trash food or your apology you stupid bi-” Y/N’s fist collided with his nose before he could finish. The force was enough to knock him right on his behind. They left the building to get fresh air before he had the chance to hit them back, they didn’t really like fighting much, especially another cadet. But he had it coming running his mouth, Y/N felt bad but couldn’t hold themself back.

Eren followed Y/N outside because he didn’t really want to wait for Jean to get back up either. He also really wanted to see them after that. “That was badass.” Eren said before anything else. “Are you ok by the way?” “I’m fine, and thank you it was very badass.” They laughed lightly and grinned. Eren was impressed, and nearly enchanted, at what he’d witnessed. He felt the intense urge to kiss Y/N right then and there. He kept his emotions a secret for now, but he couldn't stop thinking about them and what it would be like to be with them.

A few nights later, Armin asked Eren if he could ask him for advice. They sat down on Armins bed with mannerisms similar to school girls. “I really like Y/N and I’ve never dated anyone before so I really don’t know how to go about this..” Armin confided. “Armin, I don’t know what to say.. Other than, I’m getting them first.” Eren said confidently knowing Y/N would choose him over Armin. “Huh? Wait do you like Y/N too?” Armin felt like Eren was just trying to steal something he loved away from him just because it was something he loved. He cared about Y/N a lot and felt the strongest connection he’d ever felt. “A lot, I fell for them a few days ago and I couldn’t get them out of my head, Armin I’m sorry but they’re mine..” “They aren’t yours or mine, don’t talk like that Eren it’s creepy. Besides they need to pick one of us, and I’m almost certain they’ll be picking me.” Armin said, with a glow in his eyes that Eren couldn’t quite place but he was sure it was similar to his own. “What makes you think that? I’m the one they want, we are so alike, we have the same goals, we’re perfect, they're perfect.” Eren said dreamily. “What? You don’t even know them. Y/N and I actually bonded, did you know they like books, AND have the same books I used to. If anyone’s perfect for them it’s me.” Armin defended. “Say’s the guy who came to me for advice on how to win them over. I’m sorry Armin, but I can’t let them go.” “Eren you sound so weird when you talk like that.. And I really don’t care. If it’s just between me and you, I’m definitely going to win their heart first. They do clearly like brains better anyways.” “Are you kidding me Armin!? Y/N clearly likes strength better.”

And so the challenge began, whoever one Y/Ns heart wins. Little do they know however, someone else was playing too, someone who had also fallen for Y/N…

The friendly competition between Eren and Armin continued for a week. Eren would try to show off how strong he was, picking fights with Jean just so you could see him kick horsefaces ass. But he spent too much time looking to see if you were watching that he got hit a few times. Armin’s approach however, consisted of him bringing Y/N flowers and telling them about the species, inviting them on walks near the forest, finding a beautiful scenery to read together by.

During all this Y/N was sort of oblivious to the boys attempts to woo them, mostly because they were concerned with the love of someone else. They had a massive crush on Mikasa Ackerman, and little to their knowledge, Mikasa liked Y/N too. One day, Mika and Y/N were having a deep discussion in her bed, and their feelings for each other slipped out. It didn’t take long for them both to lean forwards and kiss.

The next day, Mikasa and Y/N walked to lunch together, since they had spent the night in each other's arms. They held hands tightly, hearts beating with an intense heat powerful enough for neither of them to notice the expressions on both Armin and Eren's faces. All their efforts to make the person of their dreams fall for them were nothing compared to Mikasa, that’s how they thought Y/N felt and they weren't wrong.

#attack on titan #snk #snk x reader #mikasa ackerman x reader #fanfiction #aot #anime #manga #mikasa ackerman #anime x reader #snk fanfiction #eren jaeger #armin arlert #armin arlert x reader #eren jaeger x reader

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sunqyu · 4 years ago

Text

~ Treasure realizing they love you and the first time they say it pt 1.

Request 1: “ hmm im all in cute feelings, so FIRST I LOVE YOUS with treasure reaction thingy, would be super sweet 🙊💗🌼🌼 “ - anon

Request 2: “ i love your writing! treasure realizing theyre in love with their s/o🥺 “ - anon

These requests are both so adorable and fitting so I decided to combine them. Hope you enjoooy. Also, buckle up ‘cause ITS A LONG ONE AGAIN. Got carried away as usual so it’ll be in two parts. K BYE <3 - Nova

Hyunsuk

realizing it

it doesn’t take much to make Hyunsuk like you

but to actually fall in love with you

that’s a different story

he’s alone at the studio, trying to get his verse right

every time he fixes something he didn’t like, he notices something else

he’s sat at his desk, elbows next to the keyboard

head hanging down with his fingers tangled in his hair

a sharp inhale

a shaky exhale

then his phone lights up, a message from you, asking if he’s home yet and how his day went

2.30am, he reads

he starts typing, frantically, on and on as the chaos in his head makes it’s way onto his phonescreen

only for him to stop and delete it all because he knows what he really wants to send you

but it’s too late and he doesn’t want to be a burden, you need your sleep too

when he looks up and sees his own reflection in the, now dimly lit, screen of his computer

another sharp inhale

‘Not so great to be honest, can I come to your place?’ sent.

on the way to your house he’s still thinking about turning back

but all those thoughts are long gone the moment you open the door

your eyes beaming at him, messy bun wiggling side to side and you’re wrapped up in a blanket

his heart melts as he feels the tightness in his temples and neck from the stress subside

‘Hi- I missed you.’

you probably didn’t notice but he almost said something else

he snickers to himself, that would’ve been a bit early

saying it

definitely the type to say it without realizing what he’s saying

you two are getting groceries

which, even though it’s not a special thing, is always so much fun

this time you ended up playing hide and seek

it wasn’t really discussed, you just lost Hyunsuk at one point and decided to turn it into a game instead of calling him

which means it’s your turn now

it had been over 20 minutes and he was getting worried

very impressed with your skills

but worried

in the end he decided to call you

to his surprise he hears your ringtone behind him

he turns around

the ringtone is still behind him

he turns around

what the-

he turns around but really fast this time

his eyes meet yours a second before you start dying from laughter

‘How long where you doing that for-?’ he laughed in self-pity and disbelieve

when he finds out you never left he sighs

‘Ugh- I love you.’ he mutters inbetween chuckling

for a second he freezes, a thousand things running through his mind

but y’know what? fuck it.

‘Yea- it’s true. I love you.’

Jihoon

realizing it

also seems like someone who does not fall in love quickly

mostly because he’s not looking for it, he doesn’t feel the need to be in love to be happy

but once he does

oh boy

so when you came in his life he wasn’t thinking about a potential relationship

or wondering if you two would be compatible

he simply enjoyed your presence and you two got closer as friends

because of this the moment he realizes he has feelings for you will be overwhelming for him

wasn’t ready

you weren’t even doing anything different than usual

just eating in the yg cafetaria, both rambling about things

subjects that made people walking by look up because they didn’t get the full story

out of nowhere he fell hard

the mechanism that’s supposed to be his brain malfunctioning

croissant in mid-air

it all just made sense

the reason why he could never be sad around you

the reason that made your eyes twinkle more than anyone elses

the reason you saying his name sounds different than when anyone else says it

the reason he’s now sitting with his mouth wide open staring at you without really looking at you

‘Y-yea, I was listening. Ofcourse I was.’

saying it

probably says it on a special occasion

not planned or anything

it just seemed fitting in that moment

he realized before you two were even dating so it’s not like there’s any doubt left

still, expressing it feels like a very big step

it was quite a warm autumn evening

you were sitting on the floor at the salon table

filled with food from different places

‘I’m so proud of us.’ he beamed

you had just finished a very important essay which is going to be a great advantage when looking for an internship

he had just ended filming their third music video

‘I wish I could show you, you’re gonna love it.’ he mumbled before grabbing another bite

it looked like a feast but takeout-style

you continue eating, enjoying each others company

all the windows were open because of the nice weather

a soft breeze would ruffle the curtains

the subtle sound mixing well with the music

Jihoon had looked for just the right playlist for almost half an hour

and it couldn’t have been more perfect

the warm light of the candles was accompanied by a desklight

you got it out of your room because the ceiling light wasn’t cozy but the candles weren’t enough to see each other’s face (or the food)

the topic slowly drifts to more nostalgic memories

dates to the beach, your weekend in Japan, meeting his friends

‘You know what’s funny? out of all of those memories the one that is most special to me was a really simple one.’ something in his expression changed and you sat calmly, waiting for him to continue

‘It was a few days before I asked you out on our first date. We were at yg, eating something.’ he grabbed another bite of food, chuckling at your impatient response

‘I don’t know what it was but out of nowhere I realized I was in love with you.’ the words came out while he looked at his plate, looking up only a second before he continued

‘I still do. I love you-, even more each day.’

Yoshi

realizing it

there’s not really a specific moment where it hit him

his love for you grew gradually

which is exactly how he liked it

from the moment he met you he was never nervous around you

he never felt like he wasn’t good enough or like he had to try harder

everything made sense from day one

there would be moments where is heart could burst from it

like the time you tried to fix his broken jeans with a youtube tutorial

or when you first fell asleep on his chest

the worst was when he couldn’t see you for a few days

as if the love in him grew and grew but he couldn’t give it to you

he just felt like he was going to explode sometimes

the other boys would notice very easily

‘I know it’s only a few days, you guys are right.’

his mind didn’t listen to his own words

‘I’m fine- I promise.’

but if it’s a few more hours he might not be

he would go to bed quite early these days

after he noticed that trying to distract himself wasn’t working

he’d scroll through photo’s you took together

and photo’s he took of you

he’d sent you another text, hoping your phone was off so he wouldn’t wake you up

a strange mix of happiness and sadness

luckily once he realizes his sadness is temporary and it only shows how special you are to him he’ll be able to focus on the happiness

thinking about all the memories you’ve made and will make in the future as he slowly drifts to sleep

saying it

finally

finally he was going to see you again

it was only like three days but boy was he DEPRIVED

he was the first done packing

the first in the car

the first to run into the dorm and put his bag away

aaaand the first to run out the door again

you two had been texting all day about movies to watch and all the stories he wanted to tell

his knee bumped up and down in the bus

he couldn’t remember the last time he was this hyped

only three more stops

he gazed out the window chuckling at himself

who would’ve thought someone could make him feel like this?

his hand clutched on to the souvenir he got you

two more stops

an old couple got in

yoshi always had a weakness for happy old couple

but now especially

he smiled politely at them

admiring how in love they looked

that would be you in the future, he thought to himself

one more stop

his smile was still on his face

recognizing restaurants you two went to

clothing stores where you complimented his style

and then

the bus stop

it’s the one where you two met

he still can’t believe he managed to strike up a conversation with you that day

but it must’ve been meant to be

he looked around frantically as soon as his foot hit the sidewalk

the sound of your shoes on the floor came closer

he turned to face the sound and before he could even see your face he was holding you in his arms again

tightly as if to tell the world you were his

a deep sigh left his mouth before he mumbled into your hair

‘I love you- I missed you so much. I’m so happy to see you.’

Junkyu

realizing it

‘stop being weird-’ ‘says who?’

you and Junkyu were laying on his bed

both with your limbs spread out, staring at the ceiling

you weren’t sure how long you’d been there

he hummed along to the song you just put on

before being interrupted by the sound of his own stomach

‘Oh wow- sounds like it’s time for lunch.’

you nodded in agreement as you grabbed your phone

he started thinking about what to get, watching you tap away on your phone

your hair was laying in a circle around your head

a shadow from the ceilinglight behind your phone over your eyes

he noticed how you pupils dilated as they adjusted to the light everytime your moved your phone a bit

your eyes are cool af, woah

he turned to his side, still looking at your features while you scrolled on your phone

the song changed and this time it was you humming along

your voice is so nice, he thought to himself

his dreamy moment was interrupted by you looking at him

oh right- food

‘Uh- I want uh-..’

to his surprise you tell him you already ordered

‘What- what about me?’

you listed the things you ordered for him, saying how you definitely knew what he wanted by now

he was shocked

if you aren’t the SWEETEST MOST THOUGHTFUL HUMAN BEING

then he wouldn’t know who is

his dreamy moment continued, even though you were staring right back this time, confused

he never felt like this before

like he wants to fast-forward and sit in a rocking chair with you, grumbling about youth

wait

fuck

this is love isn’t it?

saying it

he promised

he promised he wasn’t going to fall asleep during the movie

but look at him now

soft deep breathing, lips slightly parted as he was laying against you

even though you didn’t want to wake him up you had already seen this movie with friends and the remote was all the way on the table

you reached forward in slow motion

slowly

sloooooowly

Junkyu moved, rubbing his cheek against your shoulder before mumbling under his breath and laying still again

that was close

the journey continues

slooooooooooowly

you were only 10cm away from reaching the remote

‘N-no hh.. stay h- ple ase.’

a dilemma

lean forward a bit more or sit back and just let the man sleep?

bit more

sloooooooooooooooowly

your fingertips grazed the remote and it wobble side to side

‘Babe?-’ that definitely sounded more awake then earlier

but when you look at him you see he’s definitely not fully awake yet

‘Come back to beeed-’ he whined

bed? boy, we’re on the couch

you didn’t mention it and instead quickly grabbed the remote before you sat back down a little faster

‘Th-nk yo-’ he held you tighter

‘Love you-’

wait what?

Mashiho

realizing it

seems like a hopeless romantic to me

so might realize quite fast

this man has been fantasizing and imagining his future love life for so long

not to the point where he’s yanking flowers apart to find out if you love him or not

but he sees the beauty in so many things

enjoys the warmth of the sun on his skin

likes to watch people going about their day and thinking what their life is like

leaves sweet notes on receipts for hardworking employees to find when they come clean his table

little things but a lot of things

he has an eye for beauty and knows exactly how to use it for his own happiness

so he quickly noticed how happy you made him

it was again, the little things

but so so many

how your pinky finger was always a little higher than the rest when your hands were relaxed

how the cute baby hairs on the back of your neck would always leave your ponytail within minutes of putting your hair up

how your foot would bounce up and down when you sat with your legs crossed, even if there was no music

how every time you called him cute he had to keep himself from calling you cute because he knew you’d hide your face in your hands right after

the way you sat against the mirror when you came to watch him practice

sleeves of his sweater to long for your arms as you clapped after each song

loving you wasn’t something that happens at one point

it’s built within him since the moment you met

it just grows and grows as you take care of it with your cuteness and love

saying it

so much snow

everywhere

the snowflakes were most visible under the light of the streetlanterns

appearing and disappearing as they went back into the dark nightsky

the crisp sound from under your shoes was relaxing

you and Mashiho had a snowballfight after finishing about 20 snowangels each

it had gotten dark before you knew it so now you were walking home

his arm around your shoulder, rubbing softly to keep you warm

you felt the cold water through your gloves but sharing bodyheat was all you needed

both of you had soft smiles on your faces, walking in content silence

and you were also just EXHAUSTED so the quiet evening was a nice change

in some of the houses you walked by you could already see christmaslights and trees

he noticed you looking

‘Lets get our own decorations soon.’

you nodded happily, leaning against him a little more

this was going to be your first christmas together

you never expected to celebrate it with someone this year

the idea of setting up a tree together and the coziness it would bring made him feel warm inside

you discussed fun things you could do for christmas

ways to surprise the boys or what you wanted to eat

he listened to you talk about memories and future plans

when he noticed how clearly he was already involved in those future plans he couldn’t help himself

‘Hey-’ he gave your shoulder a squeeze to make you look at him

‘I love you, so so much-‘

Jaehyuk

realising it

it was the first time you were going to meet the rest of Jaehyuk’s group

a little nervous but mostly excited you walked to the front door

he told you to text him when you got there so he could see you before the rest did

a few second after you saw he read your message the door opens

you get a kiss on the lips, a tight hug and a kiss on your forehead all after each other

he wanted to show you love but also wanted to mentally prepare you for what was about to him

don’t get him wrong, he loves the other members with all his heart but he could imagine them being a little.... overwhelming.

before he could even ask you if you were nervous the yells from the living room began

curious heads peeking out from behind his back, 11 hands reaching out to you as they all wanted to introduce themselves first

you could make out some teasing to Jae followed by someone’s voice trying to keep the peace

he looked at you with slight worry in his face, only to be greeted by a cheerful smile

before he knew it you were bashing out jokes left and right

even standing up for him a few times in the funniest ways

he couldn’t be happier

so many people he loved in one room

one in particular though

he took a moment to sit back against the couch and look around in awe

so happy

after a few hours and some good food it was time for you to go home

he watched you end your conversation with Asahi

who, to his surprise, seemed like he didn’t want the conversation to end

you waved goodbye to everyone and got loads of no’s and why’s in return

‘It’s late guys, she still has to go home.’

saying it

you still heard the whining when you and Jae reached the front door

you talked a few more minutes about how much you enjoyed yourself and the funny and awkward moments you two noticed

‘Apparently you don’t only make me happy but my friends too.’

you beamed at the compliment

even though you enjoyed the night as well, the validation that they did too meant a lot to you

‘So I’ve been approved?’ ‘Clearly.’

he insisted on walking you home

you discussed the evening even more

he explained more about their personalities and memories he has with them which now made so much sense to you

your fingers were intertwined, arms swinging back and forth playfully

for some reason he felt a lump in his throat

but he couldn’t quite figure out why

it even distracted him from your conversation a few times

which is very unlike him so you noticed quickly

when you stopped walking to ask him what was wrong

looking him in the eye to show you you were not taking nothing for an answer

the determined look in your eyes made him realize what it was

what he had been holding back

but he didn’t say it

not yet

after a few minutes you reached your frontdoor

‘Thank you for the great evening, I’m sure they’ll want you back as soon as possible.’

he leaned in for a goodnight’s kiss, holding you close a little tighter than usual

for a second he pulled back

‘I love you-’

before connecting your lips again

#this took me forever but I'm pretty happy with it #hope you all enjoy!#treasure #treasure reaction #treasure scenario #yg #ygtb #hyunsuk #jihoon #yoshi #junkyu #mashiho #jaehyuk #kpop

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sokkabeifong · 3 years ago

Note

Can you write some tokka angst 🙏

ofc I can anon and IM SORRY THIS IS SO LATE but better late than never I guess. this is set in modern times because modern times are fun to write for tokka okay? a bit longer than usual but the more angst the better am I right

Toph had promised Sokka that she’d go to the hospital when it happened, so that’s exactly what she’d done. She hadn’t promised that she’d actually get anyone’s attention. Or check in. Or ask for help.

Although… the contractions were getting more insistent, and she doubted the medical staff would leave her alone if she stripped off the stupid maternity pants and just squatted down right there on the lobby floor.

With a heavy sigh, she waddled her way over to the nearest front desk. Spirits, she hadn’t been in a hospital in years. She wasn’t even sure what the different branches and buildings and desks were all for. But there was no way that she was giving birth at home. Katara was in medical school, sure, but she wasn’t done. And Toph wasn’t about to risk her life and her child’s life for a “practice trial.”

Still, there was something unnerving about the hospital, with its stuffy feeling and too-squeaky floor. It feels clean, clean in a way that you can just sense. She didn’t need sight to tell her just how antibacterial this place was.

A pinging, traitorous part of her wishes that someone was here with her, that she didn’t have to do this alone. But it was her own stupid pride that had taken a cab all alone in a Wednesday night, and the only person she truly wanted present was somewhere she could never get him back from. She’d promised him before he died that she would go to the hospital if she felt even the slightest change. He wanted her to be safe, he said.

And now, of course, Sokka was dead and gone while she was here, swollen belly stretching out her sweater and maternity pants. As much of an annoyance as labor would be, getting the thing out of her was going to be a blessing. She’d spent too long unbalanced and vulnerable to attack.

“Can I help you?”

Toph was broken out of her musings by the question from someone sitting at the closest desk. She turned her head to where she hoped the person, a woman by the sound of it, would be.

“I hope so,” she smiled, falling back into a generic cover ID face. “I should probably see a doctor.”

“All right,” said the woman. She heard the clicking of nails on a keyboard, then something sliding across the desk. “Why don’t you take one of these forms, fill it out, and bring it back here?”

“Can’t ,” she said shortly. “I’m blind.”

“No worries.” The woman clicked her pen open like she had blind pregnant ladies come into the ER every day. Who knew - maybe she did. “I’ll ask you the questions and you answer, okay?”

“Okay.” Toph winced as another contraction hit her. At least the protruding baby bump gave her something to lean against. She made sure to breathe in through her nose and out through her mouth as the woman began questioning her, just as Katara had instructed her to do. I’m a few hours, the whole thing would be over and then - she bit her lip and redirected her thoughts.

She wished Sokka was -

She redirected that thought, too.

“Reason for your visit?” the woman asked, yapping the pen against the clipboard.

Toph waited a moment before she turned around yet again, because she was in the middle of another contraction and couldn’t decide whether she’d rather scream or just go ahead and kill the lady.

“My contractions are about eight minutes apart,” she said.

The lady blinked once and then repeated, “They’re eight minutes apart from each other? So you’re in labor. Are you in active labor?”

Toph smiled sweetly. “Are you asking me to stick my fingers down and see whether or not I’m dilated to seven centimeters?”

To the woman's credit, the crudity didn't seem to faze her, and she plowed ahead with, “Ma’am, this is the ER. We’re not equipped for a birth. I’ll call you a wheelchair immediately, and we’ll get you up to Labor and Delivery. Trust me, it’ll be faster than checking in here and waiting for a transfer.”

“Where’s Labor and Delivery?”

“Fourth floor, and I -”

“I’ll just walk over there. It’s fine.”

“Ma’am, I really must insist. You’ve technically checked in—” she waved the yellow paper “—and you’re our responsibility now.”

Toph leaned heavily against the counter and deftly snatched the page out of the woman’s hand. At least her coordination was still functional.

“There. Now I didn’t check in, and I’m my own problem.”

“Ma’am, please. You’re in no condition to go wandering the hospital, whether you take that against your pregnancy or your eyesight. Let me just call someone to wheel you over.”

Luckily for the woman, another contraction rendered her unable to give a snappy retort. She waited for it to pass, quietly, quickly, then faced the lady once more.

“Fine,” she said tightly. “Fine. Fine.”

“Thank you,” the lady said, obviously relieved. Apparently she did not deal with stubborn blind pregnant women on the daily.

By the time she had been put in a wheelchair and taken through the long halls and winding corridors to Labor and Delivery, Toph had managed to calm herself down. Not because the situation was in any way calming, but because she’d stressed her body and mind out enough that she’d fallen into full-blown mission mode.

Which was fine. It’d probably be easier to give birth with that attitude.

“Well, you seem pretty together, Toph,” the nurse gushed as she checked in yet again at the front desk. “We’ll get you back as soon as possible. For now, if you can just take a seat in one of those chairs, and listen for your name.”

Toph let her real self fade into the background, giving over control to the five other women sitting in the waiting room, and promptly closed her eyes. If she was going to be in pain, she might as well rest while she could.

The calm blind girl out in the lobby was already a topic of discussion.

It wasn’t completely unheard of for someone to come in alone. Life was weird and sometimes people gave birth without anyone they knew to help them through the experience. But this girl? The calm young girl with ebony in her hair and in her eyes wasn’t any of the typical stories. She was clean and put together. She was calm and young and looked like the kind of person who would have a dozen friends by her side, even if the father of the child was no longer in the picture.

And yet, there she sat. First in the waiting room and then in her hospital room.

Alone.

Moreover, Miss Toph Beifong had claimed on her paperwork that her contractions were now five minutes apart. However, she was sitting too calmly for that. In fact, the nurse had sat with phone in hand and timed out more than ten minutes, and the girl hadn’t moved once. She’d sat there calmly. No wincing, no cursing, no crying.

It wasn’t until the nurse pulled the woman back and got down to take a look that anyone believe the claim at all.

"Shit,” the nurse murmured.

The doctor startled and glanced up to see if Toph had been offended by the curse. Fortunately, the girl seemed more concerned with how many fingers she had, and didn’t seem to have heard.

“What?” the doctormurmured, more quietly.

“Her cervix is nine centimeters,” the nurse answered.

“Shit,” the doctor echoed.

By the end of it all, Toph had decided she did not like labor. She’d made that decision before she began crowning, and nothing that followed did anything to change that. While she had experienced worse pain in her life, she had never experienced that kind of pain.

She had once spent four straight hours being absolutely crushed by a girl at the gym and, at the peak of labor, she was pretty sure she’d trade out that experience for her current one.

Nevertheless, she didn’t scream. She screwed up her eyes and doubled her body up and flexed her fingers. Tears leaked from her eyes from the sheer stress of it all. But her lips remained tightly closed. The skin around them grew white from where she bit them between her teeth, and the nurses were afraid she’d draw blood.

One well-intentioned nurse had advised that she just give in and cry out.

Toph had rolled her eyes, widened her legs, and pushed again.

In the end, nature was inevitable. Toph had always had someone to remind her to take good care of her body, so the whole experience was over in a few hours. She collapsed back against the wet bedding. There was sweat and blood and who-knew-what all over her, and she’d probably never feel clean again.

There was screaming in the background, and her eyes finally focused on the small infant being washed by the hospital staff.

Then her view was cut off by the ring of congratulating nurses.

“It’s a beautiful girl. Do you have the name ready for her?”

“Call it Toph, for all I fucking care,” Toph murmured, too quietly for anyone to make out. She turned over on her side, away from the child, and shut her eyes tight.

Later that night, after hours of tossing and turning in her sleep, Toph was awoken by the small mewing sound coming from her bedside. She sighed. She’d tried to have the baby whisked away to some far-off nursery where she wouldn’t have to ignore its presence, but apparently the hospital didn’t “do that anymore.”

Spirits, she felt so empty. Tired and empty and drained.

Deciding she could avoid it no further, Toph feels her way to the other side of the bed. The hospital is quiet, and she can’t even guess what time it is. Probably late at night. She waddled over to the bassinet, and the mewing became a full-fledged scream.

She jumped. The baby continued screaming, but less so, as if it hadn’t realized anyone was there. She found herself reaching down, feeling the child, the blankets, so afraid she would drop it or break it or… worse. For a moment she hesitated.

This is your baby, she thinks. You’re allowed to pick it up. It’s yours. And his. You can pick it up.

Her. She could almost hear Sokka’s voice echo through the room, reminding her that their child wasn’t an it. The thought made her smile.

Slowly, carefully, as though her life depended on it, Toph lowered her arms around the tiny, tiny baby and lifted her up. The baby stopped bawling and snuggled against her mother’s chest.

“Hello,” she said stupidly, like the kid could respond. But her mouth kept moving. “Um. Uh, my name’s Toph. I’m your - Spirits, I guess I’m your mom now, huh?”

The baby gurgled, her lips curled like she might cry again. Toph hurried to keep talking.

“Oh, God, um. What else, what else… uh, you have a bunch of aunts and uncles,” she said. “They’re all gonna help raise you. They’re annoying sometimes, but they mean well. You’re our first baby, you know.”

Our. The word made Toph close her eyes for a second. Try as she might, there would be no more “our.” There was only “she.” The “our” in her partnership was long gone. How was she supposed to tell her child that?

She decided to start with the basics.

“Your daddy was so brave,” she whispered. It hurt to talk about Sokka in the past tense, but she kept going. “He was so, so strong and brave and I just know he would have loved to meet you. He already loved you, you know. He wanted to meet you so bad, kid. He just never got the chance.”

The baby blinked, her eyelids heavy like hearing about the father she would never meet was too much for one night. Toph wholeheartedly agreed and set her down in the bassinet once more, making sure she was secure before plodding back to her own bed and face-planting on the blankets.

The nurse had told her the baby’s eyes were blue. She let that thought sink into her heart before drifting off to sleep.

#atla #tokka #avatar the last airbender #sokka #toph #toph beifong

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ourmiraclealigner · 4 years ago

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One and Only

Lewis Nixon x Reader

gif not mine! credit to owner.

request: anon

taglist: @hellitwasyoufirstsergeant @mavysnavy @ivy-miranda-2390 @ya-yeeteth @rayofshanshine @primusk @punkgeekchic @inglourious-imagines @wexhappyxfew @vintagelavenderskies @easy-company-tradition @meteora-fc @teenmagazines @order-of-river-phoenix @contrabandhothead

-----------------------

Lewis Nixon was never one to get jealous- he never had a reason to be. He was a tall ivy- league man with dark hair and dark eyes, never having any trouble with women. He had joined Easy with a wife and child and was perfectly content with the life he had at home. He had tried to distance himself from the men in the beginning, only hearing about them when he listened to Dick. But as time went on, he found himself spending more and more time, getting to know each one more personally.

Yet, there was one that he was interested in the most- (Y/N). At first, he kept it professional, wanting to get to know her as much as possible before doing anything he would regret. As they continued to grow closer, he had become bolder, starting to put his arm around her shoulders, brush pieces of her hair behind her ear, and shower her in compliments. And before he knew it, Lewis Nixon was in love.

Their relationship progressed fast, wanting to make up for the lost time. There were very seldom moments they would be away from each other, and it seemed all of the destruction and heartbreak had pulled them closer together.

Now, as there was an end of the war in sight, Lew found himself stressed about their relationship. He worried that once all of this ended, they'd just go back to the states and act as if nothing had happened. He knew it was likely; he was a difficult person to be with and was more trouble than it was worth. He won't blame her if that's what she chose to do.

He stared across the river to the German side, Dick next to him as they spoke in hushed voices about the coming patrol. This was commonplace for them- discussing military strategy, command, and members of Easy. He found it hard to focus, wanting to do nothing more than slip back into his mind, but he knew now wasn't the time.

"Speirs pick the men for the patrol tonight?" Lew asked, looking up at his redheaded friend.

"I think so.." Dick trailed off, mind somewhere else, as he tried to play the patrol out in his mind. He didn't want any casualties this close to the inevitable German surrender.

Eyebrows furrowed, Lew turned when he heard a familiar laugh, eyes immediately landing on the two. He couldn't help the anger that coursed through his veins as he watched (Y/N) and Speirs talking, casually strolling through the grey streets of Hagenaou, acting as if the world wasn't at war around them.

It wasn't as if Lewis didn't want her to have friends. He did- he knew she needed a support system as they had been through a lot these past few months. He couldn't always be there, and if he wasn't, he wanted her to have someone. But there was just something about how Ron looked at her and the way she looked up at him that rubbed him the wrong way.

"You think those are good?" Dick asked as soon as he finished rattling off the names of the men who were chosen to go, turning when he received no response from his friend. He followed the path of Lewis's eyes, understanding his silence when he got a grasp of the scene. "Speirs!" He called, watching Ron's head turn up at the voice. "Get over here."

Ron jogged over (Y/N) at his heels, a light smile painted on her lips when she caught sight of Lewis. She stood next to him, smiling fading when he didn't look or greet her. "Sir." She spoke softly to get his attention, trying to keep the act that he was nothing more to her than a superior officer. Maybe in his coldness towards her, he was attempting the same thing. But then again, he had never acted like this, and that worried her.

"You can go." Lewis finally spoke, eyes casting down to meet hers. His words had a bit of frustration, his hands forming tight fists in the pockets of his warm jacket. If she wanted Ron, he wanted nothing to do with her.

With a quick nod, she turned to Dick and Ron, mumbling, "I'll be back at CP." Before heading back the way, she had come. She was immediately lost in her thoughts, trying to explain away Lew's behavior. She went through all of the conversations they had had recently, wondering if it was something she had said. When she couldn't remember any instance where she could have offended him, she moved on to things she had done and still couldn't find anything.

With a sigh, she flopped onto the couch, flashing a quick, polite smile to Lip before thinking again. She hadn't even realized she had made it back to CP. Fingers tapping against the soft fabric of the arm of the couch as she let her head fall back, eyes following the patterns of the ceiling. What had she done?

Minutes felt like hours as she continued her endless barrage of thoughts, only snapping when she heard the door open. Three sets of heavy footsteps entered, Lip standing to greet the men as they continued their earlier conversation about the patrol. (Y/N) stood when she saw Lew behind Dick, her heat starting to beat a little faster as she knew the only way to solve this would be to confront him.

She took a deep breath before speaking. "Sir." She kept her voice steady, beads of sweat collecting on her palms. "May I speak to you in private?" She looked directly at Lew, so there was no confusion as to who she was speaking to.

"Yeah." Dick chimed in, looking between the couple. "You two go along; I need to find Sink anyway." And with that, he was gone, leaving Lew with no other choice than to follow (Y/N) outside.

They both shivered as they stepped outside, the cold air floating under their scarves and hitting their bare skin. They walked for a few minutes in silence, Lew trailing slightly behind (Y/N) until they found a little corner to stand in for privacy. He stood, back against the cool bricks of a building, dark eyes steady on her.

"Did I do something?" She asked, not wasting any time in getting to the conversation. "Because if I did.. I'm sorry, and I want to fix it. I don't want you to be upset with me." She tried to catch his eyes again when he started to look away.

"If you-" Lew cleared his throat, not wanting her to hear the shakiness in his voice. "If you don't want to be with me if this is just something to get you through the war, tell me right now."

"What?" She asked, features creased with concern, "No. I don't want that. Why would you even think such a thing?"

He let out a breath, creating a white cloud over them as they stood in silence. "I saw the way you were with Speirs today." He finally spoke, feeling like a weight had been lifted off his chest. "And I know you don't look at me like that. I don't want to be your second choice when we get back to the states."

"You think you're my second choice?" She asked, starting to understand why he was so upset. "It doesn't matter what part of the world I live in-, you'll always be my first choice. Speirs is nothing more than a friend, I promise. I don't want you to have to worry about me doing something like that to you because I won't. I'm sorry I made you uncomfortable today; it wasn't my intention." She spoke with so much conviction; he almost forgave her on the spot.

"I know what you want; you don't want me."

"Lewis." She spoke calmly, keeping her eyes on him as she wanted him to believe her. "I'm with you because I love you, not Speirs. If I wanted to be with him, I would. But I want you."

He was quiet, taking a few moments to think about her words before nodding. He felt tears prick his eyes, realizing she truly loved him for who he was- even the bad. It had been a long time since he had felt that way, and he knew he was projecting his insecurities on her. She loved him as he loved her, and there was no reason to push her away.

"You mean that?" He asked, a large hand reaching out to grab hers. His skin tingled as theirs touched, his thumb stroking over her knuckles. He pulled his hand away for a brief second to pull her close and press a kiss to her lips before pulling her into a tight hug.

"With my whole heart."

With a teary chuckle, he nuzzled his head into the crook of her neck; arms wrapped tightly around her as he tried to protect her from the cold. "You don't know how much I love you." He spoke into her scarf, words muffled by the soft fabric. "I've never loved anything more than you."

#hbo war #band of brothers #band of brothers imagine #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers headcanons #lewis nixon headcannon #lewis nixon imagine #lewis nixon x reader #lewis nixon

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pray4jensen · 4 years ago

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dude i had nooooooo idea what was up with occ*mshipper. wtf!! genuinely so glad i saw that

yeah! i don’t think a lot of people are aware tbh. it’s good to have opposing viewpoints about a situation because sometimes it is hard to see what is truly happening unless you take a step outside the bubble and look at it from multiple angles

for example, a lot of people who support her are saying it’s not a toxic environment because they can exit her discord server at any time. that they’re not being held against their will and that it’s a positive place to talk about the show. but what they don’t see is that the people who do exit the server leave because they are bullied off it (there are so many people with first-hand experience who have talked about this). what they don’t realize is that anybody who has a divergent opinion from the group is immediately excluded from the group, and if you can’t calmly discuss opposing viewpoints without people coming down on you to silence you, then how can you say that you have a supportive and positive environment? it is only a positive environment for those who continue to affirm and uphold her opinions. you have to be a ‘yes man’ to enjoy that positive atmosphere.

her entire blog consists of her reblogging posts and shaming people. anons and even non-anons who go to her with honest thoughts and questions are immediately belittled or accused of being a spy for the ‘other side,’ whether it be those who oppose her or whether she thinks it’s a secret network executive coming after her. when people give valid readings of the show’s text, she will always insinuate that they’re wrong about something, and that she has the necessary knowledge to analyze the show the right way (strange, because if there’s one thing i was told over the course of my english degree, it is that there is no wrong or right way, as long as you have enough (and key word being enough and not all-encompassing) evidence to back up your argument). she carefully choses not to reblog posts that are too on-the-dot about her behaviour or ones that point out flaws in her argument and analysis. when you follow her, you only see what she wants you to see. everybody is wrong or not smart enough to see it like her eyes do.

and then there’s the absolutely terrifying way she screenshots her private conversations with people in order to have something on hand to blackmail them should they step out of line. there’s the terrifying way she attempts to reason that her behaviour has noble intentions because she is ‘monitoring’ the bad apples in fandom (is curating an environment where constant surveillance is key and where you take it upon yourself to police others bad? um, yeah, it is). and then there’s the fact that any time someone tries to call her out, she uses highbrow language to make herself sound informed and reasonable, that she calls them queerphobic for opposing her movement against the network (and like, i’ll say that personally i want justice, too, but i also know there are more transparent, accountable and constructive ways to get it than the way she’s going about it). and if it’s not calling someone queerphobic, she will inevitably find another way to make it seem that the person on the other end is ‘bad’ just so that when she insults and hurls abuses at them, she can justify that it’s okay.

listen, it is never okay to call someone bad names or defame them just because they don’t agree with you. there is never a reason good enough to disrespect someone who comes to your blog to ask a question, whether they’re anonymous or not. nobody should have to prove to someone else that they’re worthy of respect. no one should have to pass through hoops to deserve kindness. if some stranger walked up to me on the street and asked me to call them an ambulance because they felt ill, would i sneer at them and ask them to prove their identity first? demand that they show me their social media to prove that they’re not a type of person whose opinions are different from mine, that they’re not racist or homophobic or ableist? would i accuse them immediately of being a bad person unless proven otherwise? no, i wouldn’t. i would call them a fucking ambulance.

and tbh, even if they were someone i knew, would i deny them basic human decency and respect if one time, they said something that i didn’t agree with? would i deny them an ambulance just because our opinions on destiel didn’t match up or if they didn’t like my approach about a certain thing? no, i wouldn’t. i would call them a fucking ambulance.

with her, it’s not like that. you are disrespected first until you prove yourself to be worthy of respect. you have belittling language thrown at you as soon as you walk through the door, until you prove you’re worth any kindness or decency. and if you’re not new and you have an opinion that differs, well, then you’re not worth anything at all.

it takes one glance to see her blog is full of nothing but hatred. it takes one look to see that she is incapable of kindness or respect or thoughtful discussion. and to see someone like that try to lead the charge against the network or try to obtain ‘justice’ for what happened—it’s frightening, really. it’s something to think and worry about. why would you want to be a part of that?

think about the type of people we know in this fandom who make change happen. think about how they treat their opponents with respect and kindness regardless of how terrible someone might treat them. think about stacey abrams and misha collins, who have had truly awful people come after them but who have always responded with kindness and good words, because people like that—they are the ones who bring about positive change and they are the type of people we should be looking for to protest the network’s censorship of queer identities. i’m pretty sure occ*mshipper isn’t one of them.

#boredombabbles #ask #anon #i don't know what more to say #this fandom is divided #i see people i love and respect on her blog #mutuals and friends and followers that i am fond of #and it's...hard seeing that #i don't know if i will say anything more about this #i don't like drama #and rlly my blog is about cockles and giggling about silly things #i'm just here to have fun and a good time #but also....it feels deeply irresponsible of me not to say something at this point #previously: 60r3d0m

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just-a-poor-boy-queen · 3 years ago

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My emotional state today has been...fragile to say the least. I feel like this fic really reflects that.

Part 25 of Jimercury Kid series

‘It was you.’

It had been two months since Khaleel had returned from foster care, and over time Freddie had resigned himself to the fact that they would never know who had reported them to social services and he would just have to move on and live with it.

Then Kashmira called.

And that’s why he found himself sitting in his parent’s living room, a steaming cup of tea abandoned on the coffee table as he stared at them both with a look that could shred an army of men to pieces. Jer was silent, standing by the window and staring out as if she was contemplating throwing herself through the glass. Bomi was in his armchair, solemn as ever.

Jim had offered to accompany Freddie to this…confrontation. Freddie had declined; he didn’t want his husband to witness this.

‘Don’t bother lying to me.’ Freddie went on, his voice cold as ice. ‘Kash told me everything. About how she mentioned the argument Jim and I had to you. About how you went running to social services, making them think Khaleel was in danger. How you made her keep quiet about it and lie to my face for two months. I know about it all.’

Silence. You could hear a pin drop in the room.

‘Trust me, I gave her an earful for not telling me.’ Freddie paused a moment to compose himself, determined not to lose his cool. ‘But can I really blame her? The last thing she wanted was for me to know that my own parents stabbed me in the back.’

‘It wasn’t like that.’ Bomi wasn’t looking at him; his dark eyes studied the rug determinedly.

Freddie disregarded this comment. ‘Do you have anyidea what you’ve put us through? We spent two weeks living in absolute hell, not knowing if we’d ever see our son again. My baby can’t sleep in his own bed anymore because he’s terrified that someone is going to come in the night and snatch him away. He throws up everything he eats; I can’t remember the last time I saw him smile. He’s completely traumatised and it’s all because of you.’

Jer looked like she was about to burst into tears. She kept shaking her head, as if doing that enough times wouldn’t make it true.

‘We were worried for the child.’ Bomi said calmly, still refusing to meet his son’s eyes. ‘When we heard you were fighting-’

‘We had an argument, Papa!’ Freddie thundered, making Jer flinch. ‘You know, those things that every couple in the world have? God forbid, you and Mama have had plenty!’

‘It sounded like more than just an argument!’ Bomi interjected. ‘Kashmira said you phoned her at midnight in tears-’

‘I was drunk and upset!’ Freddie stood up, nearly knocking the table over. ‘Jim and I had made up by the next morning. Khaleel was sound asleep in bed while all this was going on!’

Jer started to shake. Freddie heard her sob but didn’t even look in her direction.

‘I had to sit there and justify my relationship.’ Freddie gave in trying to keep away the tears; they spilled down his cheeks, dripping onto his sweater. ‘They tried to make Jim out to be some kind of pervert. Is that what you think we are, Papa? A couple of perverts who touch children?’

‘Don’t be ridiculous!’ Bomi snapped, covering his eyes with his old, gnarled hands. ‘I know you’d never…’ He cut off, breathing deeply. ‘We were just thinking about Khaleel-’

‘No, you weren’t.’ Freddie cut him off immediately, face wet. ‘This wasn’t about Khaleel at all. This was about you and your inability to accept my family for what it is. You would rather Khaleel was living with strangers, than two men who love him. You’d rather I lose him than have to tell your friends that your son has a child with a bloke!’

He wiped the tears from his face, giving a loud wet sniff while his parents stewed in silence. He had to get out of here. If he stayed here another moment, he was going to completely lose his mind.

‘Stay away from us.’ He said once he had pulled himself together. ‘Stay away from me, stay away from my husband and stay the fuckaway from our son.’

‘Farrokh, please!’ Jer cried as he made for the door, and she tried to reach for his arm. ‘We didn’t mean to-’

‘Don’t you dare touch me!’ Freddie hissed as if she was on fire, tearing his arm away. ‘Don’t even look at me! I don’t want to see either of you ever again. You’re not my parents anymore.’

Jer looked like she was about to collapse. Freddie stared at Bomi, who hadn’t risen from his chair. For the first time in his life, he looked upon the man who had fathered him and felt nothing but burning hatred.

‘You know what the saddest part about all this is?’ He waited until Bomi finally gave in and made eye contact before continuing. ‘He thinks the world of you two. All he’s been asking for the last few months is why we never gets to see Dādī and Dādā anymore. He misses your stories about Zanzibar. He misses watching Mama sew his blanket and helping her bake cheese biscuits. He loves you. But you’ll never love him the same way. You’ll never love him as much as you love Nathalie or Jamal. Because they’re your “real” grandchildren, aren’t they? Your real grandchildren with “normal” parents. Khaleel will always be second best. And what’s his crime? He’s adopted and he has two dads.’

Pain flashed across Bomi’s expression, but he said nothing. Perhaps if he had apologised, begged for forgiveness, just said something, Freddie would have listened. But he didn’t say a word. Of course he didn’t; his pride would always come first.

‘I’ll never forgive you.’ Freddie declared callously. ‘Until the day that I die, I will never forgive either of you for this.’

‘Farrokh-’ his mother tried to reach for him again, but he had already stormed out the door, slamming it shut.

JER AND BOMI????? OH MY GOD.

I did not see that coming. But I shouldn't be surprised, given how Bomi behaved with Freddie in a previous part of the story. However, it was very satisfying to see Freddie (rightfully) lash out at his parents, though it must have been painful for him to experience that betrayal. As we had discussed earlier, I don't think Jer and Bomi would have ever seen a child of Freddie in the same way they saw Kash's kids, and I love how you've included that point.

Also, poor Khaleel. As someone who has grown up amidst (very loving) grandparents, I am sad that he'd never have that bond with his. But it's for the best, I feel.

I am so sorry that you're going through a turbulent time. I really, really hope that things get better for you soon. We're all here to support you in whatever way we can💙

(More drabbles by writer anon)

#ask response #jim hutton #freddie mercury #freddie and jim and their baby #anon writing

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twisted-tales-of-all · 4 years ago

Text

Persistence and Resilience

Lee Junho (2PM) x Reader

Anon Request: Hii! I know this might seem a little old, but can I request a scenario for 2PM’s Junho? Can I request an arranged marriage angst-fluff scenario where he already had an evil girlfriend and he’s cold to you somehow when you are so kind to him, then when you can’t take it any longer, you left and he started to miss you and realize that his girlfriend is cheating on him,,, fluff ending hehehe! I’m sorry if this is too hard though 😅

Summary: You accepted your life as the second child to a father with a big corporation a long time ago. You knew the arranged marriage would happen one day, but you expected a partner who also accepted their fate. However, the suitor your parents choose for you acts immature and unreasonable. Can this even work?

Word Count: 2.1K

Warnings: Arranged Marriage AU. Contains angst, slight (implied but not described) smut, and a fluff ending. Strong language once or twice, slight violence

A/N: It isn’t exactly what was requested, but I started going based on the request and let my creative mind lead me where it did. I hope you still like it!

You knew the day would come, but you never expected it to be this chaotic. As soon as you reached a certain age, your parents started introducing you to sons of other big industry owners as your possible suitors. They only needed you as a pawn in the grand company scheme. Ultimately, neither you nor your brother could avoid it. Eventually, he'd inherit and run the company despite his dream of managing a small coffee shop, and you'd soon be forced to marry someone that could help business.

You met him twice before the marriage was announced, and he never paid you any mind. He never expected anything to happen. Plus, he has a secret model girlfriend, so why worry about his parents forcing him on dates? However, the announcement sends him into a rampage, especially since he hears the news from media outlets rather than from his parents.

You and your parents meet with his parents to discuss the wedding date and other important details when Lee Junho bursts in, fuming about the arrangement while dragging his clearly-bothered girlfriend behind him. Calmly, his father stands up, turns to Junho, and slaps him hard across the face.

"You will marry her. I don't care about your wants. The company comes first, and, as the oldest, it's about time you recognize that. You don't have to love each other; you only need to tolerate one another for the sake of our companies." Sitting back down, he turns to you, "I apologize for my son's attitude. Please, forgive him. He'll come around, but he's far too used to getting everything he wants."

"No worries, Mr. Lee. I understand his feelings and can look past them for the sake of this arrangement." You smile back, watching as your fiance shoots his father a disgusted look before storming out with his girlfriend.

"Thank you, Y/N." Mrs. Lee adds, "Your daughter is very well-mannered. She will be a welcome change to my son's wild lifestyle. Thank you for this opportunity, Mr. and Mrs. Y/L/N."

The dinner continues as boring as you expect. The next few months don't improve much either. You rarely see the man chosen as your husband, and his attitude never really improves. You try your best to be friendly and kind to him whenever you two interact, but he always blows you off.

The wedding day approaches, and, for once, Junho acts nice to you. Of course, you recognize that it's an act for the families and media, but it's the first time he hasn't treated you like dirt, so you enjoy the day as best you can. There isn't a honeymoon. Instead, your parents bring you and Junho together to explain that you'll be moving into his house by the end of the week to show the media that the relationship works well. They want people to believe the motivation for marriage is more than a simple merger.

Without a doubt, this infuriates your now-husband. He rarely meets his girlfriend to eliminate any potential gossip, and now he has to share his home with the one person he blames his suffering on. You, on the other hand, try to be optimistic and see this as an opportunity to become friends, regardless of how difficult the task may be. Slowly, you move your belongings into his house. He gives you a personal wing of the house, hoping to limit interactions between the two of you.

Over the course of the month, you learn Junho's typical schedule. Exercise in the early morning, followed by breakfast and a shower. Then, he stays in his office room most days until dinner, unless there's a company meeting he's forced to attend. After dinner on Thursdays and Saturdays, he leaves for hours, and you can only assume by the state of his clothes and hair upon return that he meets with his girlfriend on those nights. When you understand his schedule enough, you begin eating or cooking at the times he usually does, in hopes to grow closer. He accepts your presence but hardly talks to you. Any conversations you start with him fall flat quickly. Tonight, you decide to make Junho dinner.

He thanks you and sits down to eat. As you sit down across from him, you ask him about his girlfriend. This time, he finally decides to talk with you.

"She wants to go on a vacation soon, but I don't know how to go with her when I still have to think of my father's stupid company."

"Do you want help? We can pretend to go together. I'll bring my friend so it looks like a double date situation. Only if you want, though. I don't want to force you if it'll be a pain dragging me along."

He stares at you for a moment, wondering why you still try being nice when he's been nothing but mean to you, "Are you sure you'd want to do that? You won't feel weird about the situation?"

"Why would I? We don't have feelings for each other. This marriage is for our parents, but that shouldn't stop us from living how we want. If we help each other, it shouldn't be too hard to fake a healthy marriage."

Suddenly, Junho smiles brightly. You've never seen him smile so genuinely, so it shocks you enough to get your heart racing. As he thanks you and explains his plans, your mind wanders, thinking about how handsome he is when he's happy. When he asks whether you'd be okay with his plans, you snap back to reality and blindly accept his proposal.

As it turns out, the plan included a trip to an island your parents own. They agree without issue, hoping you and your husband can bond. The only setback to the trip is that the two rooms are separated by gender, meaning you'd be sleeping in the same room as his girlfriend while Junho rooms with your friend. Junho's strange optimism insists that this will give him an easy excuse to sneak into his girlfriend's room, as he can claim he wants to see you.

At first, you didn't see the issue with his plan. However, the asshole returns as he decides to make out with and even have sex with his girlfriend despite you being stuck there with them as a cover for him. After a few days, you give up. Your kindness can only extend so far, so you storm out as the lovebirds undress each other without a care in the world.

You stroll along the beach, meeting up with Changmin, the friend you brought along for company. You sit on the beach and talk. He tells you all about his fiancee and asks how you feel about your forced marriage. Changmin has been your close friend for over a decade, so he could see your frustration. He tells you to talk to Junho about his behavior. With a sigh, you admit that he's right, and you head back to your room, fully expecting him to still be there.

When you arrive, you hear moans through the door and decide not to enter until they're finished. Turning around to head back to the beach, you accidentally bump into someone directly behind you. Trying to make eye contact to apologize, you see Junho, who looks past you and at the door. Your eyes grow wide as he passes you, yanking the key from your hand and storming into the room. You rush after him in case you need to stop a fight, even though you're scared of that possibility.

You both see Junho's girlfriend and some random younger boy pushing away from each other. She hides her naked body under the covers while he quickly stumbles into his clothes on the way out. You expect Junho to scream at his girlfriend or punch the boy, but he just points to the door and tells her to leave and never talk to him again. She tries to apologize and beg for forgiveness, but Junho doesn't let it happen.

Raising his volume and strengthening his glare, he demands, "Get the FUCK out of my life!"

She wraps herself in the complimentary robe, grabs her bags, and rushes out the open door. Silence falls over the room. The scent of sex lingers and haunts him. He drops his arm and falls to his knees as he stares at the floor and tries to comprehend what happened.

You help him up from the floor and onto the bed. At that point, the man who appeared to lack a heart breaks down crying. You pat his back, so he leans his head on your shoulder. Ever since you've met him, you've never seen him drop his guard and be vulnerable. You stay with him until he cries out all his tears. When he composes himself, he apologizes, but you insist that it's perfectly fine.

After a short silence, he looks at you and asks, "Can I sleep next to you tonight? I think I need the comfort of another person."

"How about we sleep in your room then? The smell in here doesn't seem to be going away any time soon."

He agrees with a nod, so you both head to the next room, and you explain the situation to Changmin. He apologizes to Junho and asks if either of you need anything. When you both insist that you're fine, he retreats to his bed and puts his attention to his laptop. You and your husband get in the other bed together. He lays under the blankets and moves close to you for comfort. Not quite ready to sleep, you sit in the bed with his head in your lap as you scroll through your phone.

When your body finally relaxes, you put your phone on the bedside table and lay down. As you shift your body, you disturb Junho's sleeping form. He manages to find a new comfortable position with his head close to yours. In his sleep, his arm moves across your body, moving you closer to each other. You try to focus your mind on anything other than his closeness, and you eventually join him in sleep.

You wake up to movement and let out a groan as you stretch and open your eyes. Sitting on the bed, fully naked, is your husband. You quickly avert your eyes, making Changmin laugh at your shyness.

"Haven't seen your husband naked yet? Jeez, what will you do when your parents start bugging about having kids?"

You throw a pillow at him for even suggesting the idea, even though you understand that it will happen one day. Junho, however, decides to further provoke you by joining forces with your friend. He moves to you and hovers above you with a smirk.

"Should we make this fair? I haven't seen you naked either."

"I didn't look, so it's still fair right now." You speak quickly, hoping to escape the situation as soon as possible.

The boys just laugh at your reaction as Junho rolls off you and pulls on his underwear. When he tells you that it's safe to look, you finally begin to relax. You still avoid looking in his direction, but you're glad to know that he can still joke around despite the scene he witnessed the day before.

For the last day in your vacation, the three of you decide to roam around and have a good day despite the previous issues with the trip. At the end of the night, you head back to your room and begin to pack for the 3 AM flight back home. When Junho finishes packing, he heads over and asks whether you need any help. Since you're nearly finished, you thank him but decline his offer.

He sits down on the empty bed and looks at the wall before opening up, "Y/N, I'm sorry for how I treated you because of my girlfriend. I never expected her to be that person, but seeing her cheating on me made everything click into place. But, also, thank you so much for being so kind to me despite my terrible attitude. If you'll forgive me, I guarantee you that I'll be a lot less rude and a lot more open with you."

"Hey. Calm down with that heartfelt stuff. You're forgiven, Junho. I'd still like to have a working marriage with you for the sake of our families, so this is a good step forward." You place a hand on his shoulder and send him a smile as he turns to face you.

When he sends a warm smile back, you believe that good things will finally come after your persistent kindness and resilience with your husband.

#kpop #kpop boys #kpop boy scenarios #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop writing #kpop requests #2pm #2pm scenarios #2pm imagines #2pm writing #lee junho #2pm junho #lee junho angst #kpop angst #2pm angst

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zirkkun · 4 years ago

Note

Yo you have every right to be upset about things! You're still a person with your own feelings and deserve to be treated kindly. No one should come at you for making things you enjoy or for misunderstandings. I hope things get better for you even if I wasn't here for when all the drama happened (or maybe I was and just wasn't aware of it? I tend to avoid drama as much as possible tbh)

I didn't really post about it much. I think I answered about 4 asks about it (three of them in the same post because i was sure it was the same anon due to the similar string of seemingly continued messages) and the rest I just deleted as soon as they came in, but I got... A lot. A lot of mean things said too. Kinda hurts when you wanted to make something because you knew this work was highly criticized and wanted to let people give it a second chance only to be shot down by the people you were hoping to defend lol

In short, and a lot of it I missed because I was blocked by a lot of people so my friend sent me screencaps; someone took I believe only the old ask box post I had for ULR, which at the time was called "Underlust Rewrite," and was disgusted at the fact that everything was revamped and "made for kids" (because it's not 18+ explicit content, but as I've said before, it's just cause I'm too scared to be horny on main, and I've literally made a whole different biological system for ULR so I can write the necessary story ""sex scenes"" without it being human-like sex or otherwise uncomfortable or too explicit for me to draw, but I still consider it a mature story overall), so they blocked me instantly here and on twitter and then made a callout post on twitter itself. People were telling me originally to stop calling the AU Underlust, and I didn't really get it at first, because like, what's the difference between my spinoff and, say, Underlust Gold, Swapfell Indigo, TS!Underswap, you know, names that have add-ons from the original title to differentiate it but still connect it to the source. So that's what I said, as well as if I removed the Underlust name, it would be considered stealing to me, because I'd be disconnecting it from the source. But apparently, instead, what had been the concern was that it was just being called "Underlust" and the "Rewrite" aspect was implying I was replacing the original story, which like, had never been my intention and I've made a bunch of things with both the ULR and UL cast together and love the idea of Lust and Ace meeting up and just being a disaster duo of not working together at all. I just adore Underlust like it's in my pinned FAQ, Lust's been in my banner for months now, and he's practically my staple pfp character on every account but here atm.

It took like 3 days for it to actually click what was going on, because once I finally got the chance to have a conversation with someone where they weren't telling me I was the scum of the Earth -- which, honestly, bless the three people I talked to, they were so sweet (which actually included someone from the Japanese side of the fandom whose art I loved too... yeah it got pretty far. Once I sent them a message though it was cleared up quickly and they did post a clarification post about ULR and me, so that was nice to see.) -- I finally got the chance to realize that this was a misunderstanding from the beginning, from both sides, where people coming at me were saying I was doing all of the stuff above and probably more but those stuck the most, while I was confused as to where this information and accusations were coming from and what they were referring to in the first place. They probably never explained it in the anon asks because, well, they probably assumed I knew what I was doing, but when they came at me about something I didn't do with vague context of something I did do, I was very confused, and got really defensive really quickly, and really honestly snapped pretty hard. After my first initial explanation post and people were still trying to tell me to stop ULR/don't call it Underlust/whatever else there was, I just got tired and told people to block me if they didn't like it. But that didn't really stop anyone and honestly made it worse because that's when I started getting really nasty messages. I like... Specifically remember one where someone called me a lowlife and a thief, and that one stuck the most, but I tended to not read through them before deleting them for my own sanity. I actually did this to one of the people who'd later talked to me calmly about it at first too, because I had just woken up, and really didn't want to read an essay lecture on everything everyone's been telling me at the crack of 7am when I was borderline ready to delete my account and start over lol

Some people I do remember were accusing me of trying to censor nsfw content or erase it as well because ULR isn't 18+, and I'm out here on my horny ass like "wh. What are they talking about, where did you get that idea, have you SEEN my ao3 recommended list," /j but in all seriousness I really didn't understand that accusation at all because I've never been against nsfw content in the slightest and lowkey? This is very dumb -- but like, you know how they say when you get hate mail, you know you've made it? Well, for me, my thought has always been, "When there's 18+ fancontent of my OC's, I'll have finally made it." This is... Not a joke, some of my friends think its very weird LMAO oh well. I've been on the internet for far too long at this point -- like, definitely since I was far too young, probably, and being with a family of the next youngest being 12 years older than me, I really dove into stuff pretty quickly I definitely shouldn't have, but hey that's life -- I'm really unfazed by mostly anything now. Hell, me making ULR was honestly half motivated by me wanting to make others more comfortable with this kind of media, discussing sexuality and otherwise sexual-considered topics, without really being embarrassed or bothered by it. Because, people talk about death and killing and whatever other gorey stuff just fine, but the moment sex comes up, people just gasp in awe, y'know? I kind of grew up that way myself but like... ironically, in being more comfortable with my asexuality, I realized that it's honestly not that big of a deal. Sure, we don't need to hear the details of everything. We don't need to hear the details of a murder either. But I will never understand how murder is always the lowest on the "morally wrong list of things to not to" to so many people and that it's fine to mention, but even consider bringing up anything else and it's like, a sin and you're a bad person. Even racism is like, higher up on there for a lot of people, which it's like... this is an issue that needs to be discussed, or it can never be solved. You can't just kick that away and hope it goes away on its own, that's never how it works.

Ah, well, now I've gone off tangent lol. Sorry to make you read a blob of text lmao but having things in a cohesive format of what I've been thinking does feel a bit better. Thank you for the support regardless, and I do want to keep making what I really enjoy, because frankly, I really want to make things that make people take a step back and think for a moment, y'know? Things that invoke like a realization in yourself about something you didn't even know. That's how fiction's always been for me, so I want to give back by making it that way too. ... maybe my horny content is exempt from this however. That's just. Self indulgence LMAO.

Probably helps that I'm actually talking this all out for once, too, since before any of this I tried to keep as much of the situation contained to myself as possible in hopes I could clean it up before it got too bad. That was, in hindsight, probably a terrible idea lol. But I didn't want to be a source of stress for anyone following me or become the new creator-to-defend that like, 50% of people hate and 50% of people love and that you're either on one side or the other and there's no where in between. (I feel like Arin Hanson comes to mind for me every time I think of someone like this.) I know I can't please everyone and I knew internet hate would come eventually, but like, didn't expect it to be over a name or tag choice. I thought that would be a simple enough DM or clearable thing but apparently not, especially since I saw someone a few weeks ago delete their blog over a similar thing (though, the opposite, in a way: posting nsfw in a sfw tag by mistake). It wasn't in the UT fandom so y'all probably weren't following them (tbf I wasn't either, I just witnessed it happen from start to finish), but it was still disheartening.

Anyway, thank you, and sorry to make ya read all of that (if you actually did vahdbs don't blame you if you don't it's a lot of thought dump lmao)💕💕

#zircon answers #anonymous #all this happened like the DAY i got accepted onto the bhc team to and i was like #alright guys am i being kicked out day one lol #like i was expecting the worst from this whole thing #but im still kind of happy with how i worked it out #i really wish more people were like #willing to talk things out rather than just spit in a general direction and hope youll listen #because like even the people i talked to calmly some of them were pretty rude at first! but!#theyre not bad people #they were just scared for their favorite thing #i cant blame them for that and honestly i do consider the hatred justified under the circumstances that they knew #but they were all really nice after we talked things out #and were like 'i hope your series does well' and that really meant a lot honestly #death mention tw//

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cle1024 · 5 years ago

Text

i could be the one for you | cs

member: choi san

genre: angst, fluff bad boy!au, fake dating!au, high school!au, enemies to lovers!au

summary: all your parents wanted from you was perfection, overwhelmingly so. as the pressure consumes you, you decide to give them one big ‘fuck you’ in the form of claiming choi san, the snarky rebel from your school, is your boyfriend.

warnings: homelessness (kicked out), verbal abuse, violence (nothing extreme), swearing

a/n: a lovely anon requested an angst to fluff scenario with san and it perfectly fit a prompt i saw. i hope you enjoy, i’m sorry it took so long!

In life, there would always be people you didn’t see eye-to-eye with. Whether it be the result of differing lifestyles, beliefs or values, it would always be a part of life. In a way, such dysfunction was fundamental to society. You typically forgot people you clashed against, such memories weren’t very valuable as you slowly progressed toward adulthood. Though, for many years, there was always a specific cocky smirk, raised eyebrow and sassy tone that always remained fresh in your memory. It was probably because he was still present in your life, every week day to be exact, and infuriated you immensely at every opportunity. At this point, you were sure he was doing it on purpose. You knew your lifestyles were different—he was the stereotypical bad boy. Disrupting class, sporting slicked blonde hair and refusing to adhere to the school uniform requirements. You were the supposed ‘golden student’, a hard worker with high grades and no detentions under your belt. The ‘golden student’, what a crock of shit. If only people knew how much pressure was placed on you to get those grades, the amount of screaming in your household when you got less than ninety-five percent. All you wanted in life was to give them one last ‘fuck you’, a reason to really be disappointed in you.

Everyday at school seemed to drag on slowly, information filled your brain to the brim, yet would inevitably be forgotten after a few hours of sleep under the moonlight. The shrill bell rang, urging you to walk to your math classroom before your teacher could become snappy. That old bat was always kind until two minutes had ticked by since she strutted into the room. You knew you’d hear her seething tone scolding the slower classmates, but you preferred not to have it directed at you. Quite frankly, you wanted to avoid her accidentally spitting on your face in the midst of her rant. You only seemed to make it to the classroom a minute before she could, her frustrated and impatient voice rising for those who nervously hobbled in after she had. Most people had learnt by now that they didn’t want to be on the receiving end of her stern lecture about punctuality, though some were yet to learn that lesson—or yet to care, you supposed. Fifteen minutes of silence, excluding her enthusiastic teaching of trigonometry, had ticked by before the classroom door busted open with the entrance of another student. Evidently, he didn’t care about her punctuality lectures, he’d heard them a hundred times already.

“Mr Choi, nice of you to join us,” the teacher spoke dryly. In return she received a cocky, almost proud, smirk and silence, the boy making his way to the empty spot at the very back of the classroom. How typical, you rolled your eyes. As he sauntered his way through rows of desks, his eyes wandered around the blushing or anxious faces of his classmates—he always had that effect on people, being charming yet intimidating. Most people, at least. His dark orbs scanned your face as he passed your row, stoic as always. He wasn’t sure what it was, but something about teasing you was highly entertaining. Of course he'd never take it far enough to genuinely hurt you, he wasn’t that kind of person, and you always had a snarky retort of your own—perhaps that’s what made it fun, he could always expect a new jeer and another eye roll. It was kind of cute, sometimes, because the second he offhandedly dropped a ‘pet name’ a light blush would tint your cheeks. He never commented on it, nor did you, but you both knew it was there. You found it humiliating, he found it rather charming.

At last, the day had come to an end, students rushing from the gates of the school to start the adventure home and, presumably, participate in some after school study or activities. Unfortunately, you found yourself lumped in with the group of after school studies, being obligated to attend daily tutoring sessions that, truthfully, you didn’t need but your parents insisted on you having. It was tiring and pointless to say the least. A hand came in contact with your head, ruffling the strands of your hair in an, in the perspective of an outsider, act of affection. Though, you knew better. That was a feeling you’d had to deal with whenever Choi San caught up with you on your walk to or from school. He knew it infuriated you, that’s why he never stopped doing it. You could vividly remember the fury you felt when he messed up your hair—the hair your mother spent far too long ‘perfecting’—right before school pictures, going home to cry at the end of the day. You’d never fully forgive him for that, especially because of the amount of anger your perfectionist parents emitted once they got their hands on your disheveled school picture. ‘Overdramatic’ was an understatement, in hindsight.

“Hey, Y/N,” San greeted, dragging out the words in a manner that can only be described as an attempt to seduce you—of course that wasn’t his intention, he just liked pissing you off, “going home to waste away studying?”

San never knew about the difficulty your parents gave you, the pressure they put on you to study non-stop. His comment almost made you want to laugh, he spoke as if you hadn’t wasted away already.

“You know your business, San? Why don’t you mind it?” You retorted pointedly, speeding up your steps to indicate the conversation was over. His cocky chuckle sounded from behind you, a smirk on his lips as he strolled at a slower pace than you.

Exhaustion rippled your features, dark circles shadowing your eyes as you finished another night of study. It would’ve been around ten o'clock, a time that usually wouldn’t see you this tired, but the endless pressure and workload was dragging you down dramatically. At this point, sleep was almost for nothing. Your mind wandered to the fast-approaching exams and subsequent school reports, how likely was it your parents would be disappointed? Unless you got between ninety-five and one-hundred percent for each subject, there would be a flurry of furious disappointment from them—and avoiding it seemed unlikely considering trigonometry was melting your brain. Then they’d call into question your priorities, what could be distracting you. Perhaps they’d go with the classic “are you dating someone?”, typically in reference to someone of the opposite sex, or “you’re spending too much time on that phone.” A huff passed your lips as you dragged yourself towards your bed, too tired to brush your teeth or change into a comfortable set of pyjamas, the exhaustion swiftly consuming you as your head rested against the pillow.

The paper shook slightly in your trembling hands. The exam schedule stared up at you, taunting you as it inflicted waves of anxiety upon you. There was so much riding on these exams — your school report and the reaction of your parents especially — that the mere possibility of ‘failing’ would keep you up at night, studying until your head ached from a migraine. Your first one was tomorrow, nine o’clock, the rest spread out across the remainder of the week and early next week. Gosh, you wish time could just speed up and get you through the torturous days leading up to your school report. Then you’d listen to your parents’ yells of disappointment, something you’d learnt to drown out by now, continue to work hard on the remaining days of school and suffer through a break from school that would, inevitably, be filled with studies and extracurricular activities. Wasn’t much of a break after all. A huff passed your lip at the realisation you’d spend the afternoon, evening, and likely next morning, studying for that stupid first exam. Unknowingly, you started to count the hours left until you’d be obligated to open the freshly printed exam paper.

The hours until the exam officially started quickly ticked away to seconds, your eyes scanning the clock anxiously as it ticked towards nine-thirty. One final tick, it had officially begun. Judging by the contents of the page, the questions that didn’t seem to flow in a coherent manner, you’d be sweating your way through the rest of your exams with shaky hands and barely legible handwriting, only to be thoroughly disappointed by the reaction of your parents, regardless of whether you achieved a grade deemed ‘good enough’. The time ticked away quickly, the announcement of thirty minutes left ringing in your ears as you forced yourself to answer every question, even if you weren’t entirely sure. An answer was better than no answer, right? Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, a throbbing pain in your head as you shifted your eyes away from the test paper, scanning the other students surrounding you. Some were writing quickly, some were chewing pens anxiously, others were reading over their answers with boredom—of course San was one of them, you doubted he even read the questions before answering. A soundless sigh released from your lips as you turned your focus back to the questions, prepared to put all your effort in and still disappoint your parents.

Time seemed to pass faster since your exams ended, soon enough you were handing over your school report to your expectant parents. You weren’t sure why or how it happened, but your parents had built the tradition of reviewing your report privately before ‘calmly’ discussing it over dinner, which always progressed into a screaming match where you so desperately wanted to beg them to be proud of you, just once. You were highly doubtful that tonight would be any different. Although some of the exams, namely those of the subjects you were most confident in, seemed to pass like a breeze without convoluted questions or vague answers, the others seemed to harbour every possible way to fault or confuse you. When the time came to walk out of the exam, you’d always left with a mix of disappointment and befuddlement on your features. You tried not to let it get to you so much, but you couldn’t help it, especially not with your parents breathing down your neck. Gosh, you’d give anything to escape that, even just for a day. Now, you sat around a rectangular table with your parents situated across from you. There was a second seat beside you, empty as per usual, making you their sole focus and unable to escape their iron gazes.

“So,” your mother started as you mentally prepared to be scolded, “you’ve been slacking off with studying lately, haven’t you?” No, you hadn’t.

The voice of your father chimed in, “we’re paying top dollar for extra tutoring and you’re still barely getting ninety-fives!” Ninety-five was above average for your classes, “we’ve told you how important this is for you, for your future, have you not listened to us?”

“Your father’s right, Y/N, you’re not taking this seriously enough! Something’s distracting you from reaching your full potential,” the conversation made you want to shove your fists into your nostrils in frustration; after all this time they still failed to realise that you’d either already reached your full potential or would peak when they stopped setting standards for you that seemed unattainable.

“Mum, there’s nothing distracting me, I’m just tire-”

“We should stop letting them use that phone so often, that’s for sure,” your father cut you off, conversing with your mother as if you weren’t sat across from them. The urge to roll your eyes was almost impossible to suppress, here we go, “seriously, dad? I hardly ever use it!”

“Don’t use that tone with your father!” Your mother’s eyes sharpened as she scolded you firmly, “what is it then? Are you in a relationship?”

“Don’t be a fool, they couldn’t hide that from anyone.”

The patronising words of your father set you off, you’d finally snapped. You had a life of your own, you were so tired of them living vicariously through you, trying to make up for any mistakes they made in their youth.

“Actually,” both adults snapped their attention towards you at the contradicting word, “yes, I am.”

A pregnant silence fell over the three of you, your parents evidently taken aback at your brazen and unexpected statement. You were almost certain they were questioning why they didn’t try harder to keep you locked away from any potential love interest, why they didn’t completely suck all the potential out of you. With a clear of her throat, an effort to regain her usually unshaken composure, your mother spoke curtly.

“Well, if that;s the case,” it wasn’t, “then they’ll need our approval. We can’t have some… lowlife derailing you, now, can we?”

A sickly sweet smile stretched across your lips at the statement, voicing a calm reassurance, “don’t worry, I’m sure he’ll get it.”

A plan had already begun to formulate in your head, and there didn’t seem to be any potential back up plan. If he didn’t agree to this, everything would come crashing down, even more so than it would if he did.

There was determination on your face, in your strides, fueling your whole being as you made your way to the bus stop down the street from school. It was past the time school ended and he always ditched last period for cheap ramen on Wednesdays, you knew he’d be the only one sat at the bus stop in that moment. A sliver of you worried he wasn’t, considered the possibility of having to awkwardly walk right past the bus stop and find your way home. The dirty blonde strands of hair came into view, sharp features turned downward to focus on the screen of his phone, unkempt and incorrect uniform crinkled; he was alone. Your footsteps came to a halt in front of the male, shading the sunlight that previously glared on the back of his phone and skin. The sudden darkness and presence caused him to look up, unable to speak a word before you blurted out the words “date me.” There was definitely a better way to say that.

His eyebrows quirked in confusion, the cocky demeanor momentarily dropped as he responded, “excuse me?”

You huffed in embarrassment, glancing away awkwardly, “I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend…” you trailed off.

“Why should I help you?” Of course it wouldn’t be that easy with Choi San, it never was.

“Because it’s the only way to get my parents off my ass for good.”

Confusion glazed his features once more. He was incapable of understanding the situation, “by pretending to date me?” Though, you couldn’t exactly blame him considering the lack of context and opening statement of ‘date me’.

“Yes, you’re the exact opposite of what my parents want me to be,” San stared at you thoughtfully as you waited for a reply. You spoke gently, almost with solemn desperation, “please, San.”

Something in him shifted. He didn’t know the full context of your situation, but judging by the fact you just said the word ‘please’ when asking something of him meant it wasn’t something you wanted to deal with any longer. Turning his head to the side momentarily, he gave in, “fine, but you owe me, Y/N.”

“Obviously, just come to my house at six o’clock tomorrow- no, actually, don’t. Don’t be on time. Just… be yourself.”

“Myself?”

“Yeah, you know, cocky, arrogant, smartass, irri-”

“Alright, I get it. I’ll be there, late, and be an asshole—which I am not, by the way.”

You rolled your eyes, “whatever, greaser. Just pretend my parents are the math teacher or something,” the male smirked at the thought, nodding with satisfaction as you turned to walk away.

“Will do, princess,” San teased, watching you with a soft smile as you gently shook your head.

The clock had ticked well past six o’clock and your parents were getting antsy, as were you, butterflies swirling in your stomach as you scrunched the layers of your perfectly ironed clothes. You knew you told him to show up late, past six o’clock, but what if he’d decided to not show up at all? Just leave you to be consumed in the web of lies you’d spun and attempted to drag him into. At six thirty-four, the doorbell rang, and your anxiety was momentarily put to ease, “I’ll get it,” you quickly voiced as you pushed your chair out noisily. Pulling open the front door, you were met with the sight of San in a leather jacket, ripped jeans and white t-shirt. Your lips turned upwards slightly and spoke quietly, “you look perfect.”

San scoffed with a smirk, “don’t go catching feelings for me now,” your eyebrows furrowed at his words.

“What? No, I wasn’t- I didn’t mean-” San raised his eyebrow teasingly, you groaned in frustration, “just come in and piss my parents off.” The male chuckled to himself, eyeing you as you closed the door and turned in the direction of, at least he assumed, the dining room.

“You, too, look perfect,” he voiced from behind you. You pretended not to hear him, brushed off his teasing and obviously dishonest comment, though the apples of your cheeks reddened slightly at the softness of his voice. You’d never heard him speak like that before—but then again, he was usually quite boisterous. It was nothing more than teasing.

“Mum, Dad, this is my... boyfriend,” it felt weird to give him such a title, “San.” The colour seemed to drain from your mother’s face, a crease almost settling between your father’s eyebrows as he fought off an expression of disappointment and dissatisfaction. The blonde smiled smugly at the adults, eyes squinting slightly as his face tightened, making it quite obvious he was faking the friendly greeting—you were glad, you wanted your parents to know he ‘hated them’. Your parents smiled politely, fakely, and gestured for the two of you to sit across from them, the two of you obliging to do so. As far as you were concerned, San would be interrogated during this dinner and your parents would get a mouthful in return, while you sat quietly and prayed everything went well.

“So, San,” your mother initiated the interrogation, as you expected, “how long have you been dating Y/N? They only mentioned you a few days ago!” She chuckled lightly after the comment, but you were almost certain it was meant to be a dig at your relationship.

He pondered slightly, “hm, few months, not very long. Definitely long enough to know there’s too much pressure on them,” the boy only smiled politely at your parents’ stunned silence, shoveling a piece of meat into his mouth. Of course they said nothing, always wanting to appear as the ideal, respectful parents. Gosh, could you even consider them parents? Your mother cleared her throat awkwardly, a habit she seemed to have picked up when she was losing control of a conversation.

“Yes, well, Y/N’s always been a perfectionist,” another fake laugh was spat, the statement earning a snort from San. You repressed the smile playing on your lips, he was good at playing the part of a boyfriend concerned for your well-being, disapproving of the way your parents treated you. It almost made you wish he wasn’t pretending. Almost.

“What do you do outside of school?” Your father shifted the conversation, maintaining a facade of politeness and genuine interest, saving your mother from more criticism in doing so.

“Work, mostly. I live with a couple of friends so we have to do what we can to get by,” you didn’t know that.

“Oh, what about your parents?”

The boy shrugged nonchalantly as he poked at another piece of meat, “don’t like ‘em. They were always pushing me to be something I’m not,” he shot a knowing look at your parents, one that had your mother flinch slightly at the sudden icy stare, “too uptight and pressuring. You know how it is,” he smiled once more before chowing down on the piece of meat. Your parents shared a look, as if they were communicating telepathically about his indirect criticism of their parenting, you were suppressing a smirk.

Everything you wanted from him, every nightmare of your parents, was embodied in San for the rest of the night. His almost-kind smile and sarcastic tone, dressed in his typical bad boy attire with strands of hair tickling his eyelashes from where it had fallen out of its slicked back style. An occasional smirk, or half-smirk, would stretch his pink lips after a particularly passive-aggressive remark. You couldn’t even feel bad about the shock it must’ve given your parents, it was far less than they truly deserved. Soon enough, your parents couldn’t take the brazen words of San any longer, insisting that it was getting late and they wouldn’t want you to be too tired in the morning. San opened his mouth to interject, fully intending to enlighten them as to the real reason you were always tired, but the sound of your chair scraping against the floorboards didn’t give him the chance, “I’ll see him out,” the words passed your lips with a polite smile. The male stared at your parents silently for a moment before obnoxiously scraping his chair against the ground and following your lead back to the door. You could already here the not-so-discrete mumbling of your parents, but you didn’t have it in you to care, not anymore at least. As San stepped onto the porch, he turned to stare you in the eye momentarily.

“You owe me, Y/N,” his reminder was quiet, as to not alert your parents, but still with an edge of sterness.

“I know. Thank you, again,” there was a moment of hesitance, “y-you don’t know how much it means to me.”

San only nodded his head slightly in response while you offered a small smile before closing the door, watching him stroll down your front yard through the glass panel of the door. The moment you appeared in your parents’ vision, you were the target of disapproving yells. As San took the beginning strides on his journey back home, he heard the disappointed shrieks of your parents float from your open bedroom window. Silence in response, the slam of a door, and then your face in the window. Sullen, but contorting to false pride when you met his gaze. It was obvious you didn’t him, of all people, to see you in a weakened state, but San already knew too much just by being there.

It was quite obvious that you owed San a heartfelt thank you, something more than a swiftly spoken exchange as you saw him out of your house. There was a twisting feeling in your gut, something that warned you to walk straight past the male and not stick to your initial plan. You didn’t listen. Pacing towards him, surrounded by friends and crushing students whom you didn’t know the name of, you went over what you’d say in your head. He mustn't have seen you coming, otherwise he’d stand up and meet you halfway so you didn’t make his friends and ‘admirers’ realise he actually harboured an ounce of compassion for people; he wasn’t always a stone cold prick. By the time he’d noticed you, it was too late. You stood in front of him, you knew asking him to talk in private would look even more suspicious, or he’d say something stupid like “whatever you have to say to me can be said in front of them,” referring to his few real friends and the others surrounding him. Your fingers picked at the loose skin around your nails in nervousness, just spit it out, Y/N.

“Uh, I just wanted to thank you for… you know. And, just, let me know how I can make it up to you, I guess.”

Truthfully, San didn’t want anything from you. He didn’t want to make it seem like he was holding something over your head unless you repaid him. In fact, all he wanted was for the two of you to move on and, hopefully, have you less pressured from your parents. But in that moment, San was a coward. San was too fixated on his image, too focused on ignoring the fluttering feelings blooming in his chest, to give you a genuine answer. He didn’t tell you that all he wanted out of the deal — whether that was an appropriate word or not, he wasn’t sure — was for you to be okay. No, instead, he maintained that stupid ice prince facade he’d hidden behind for years. With a mocking half-smirk half-smile, he speaks as if he’s talking to a child, “you can make it up to me by not bothering me.”

There weren’t words that could pass your lips in that moment. All you could hear was the sound of other students laughing at his words, your own breathing becoming muted in the humiliation. You couldn’t see the disingenuous tint in San’s brown eyes, or the guilty crease of his eyebrows, and you didn’t care to stay to notice it. Instead, you turned on your heel and walked as far from that group, from that fucking prick, as possible. The fact you even thought he’d respond differently disgusted you, how naive could you get? One night of faking it didn’t mean he’d be nice forever. You were a fool to think so, and you were a fool to start catching feelings for him based on such a blind assumption. Gosh, you were such a fucking fool; one night of acting and suddenly you’re unaware of his true nature. Everything was a game to that boy, you were just another level to beat.

You didn’t see San around school much after that day, and you certainly couldn’t complain. Sometimes you’d hear the teacher scold him for being late to class, but you never dared to meet his eyes. You refused to let him see how much he’d hurt you. In doing so, it made you unaware of how desperately he tried to meet your eyes, how he’d stare at you all through class waiting for you to turn around and see the concern lacing his features, the guilt. It would be his unspoken apology. San would shake his head at such a thought, that wouldn’t be enough. You deserved more than some puppy dog eyes and upturned eyebrows. Almost everyday, you regretted walking up to San and thanking him that day. Sometimes you were thankful it happened, because it brought you crashing down to reality again, saved you from led on and heartbroken when it would hurt the most. San couldn’t say the same. There wasn’t a single day where he wasn’t regretful of his words, he always beat himself up for being such a coward, caring more about a stupid image instead of your feelings. How he’d fucked up so royally was beyond him, what was wrong with him? It left him lying awake in bed at night, punching his own reflection until his hands were on the verge of breaking. All he could hope was that you didn’t hate him. A scoff passed his lips at the thought, who was he kidding? You had every right to hate him, he hated him too.

Saying your parents were appalled by the thought of San being your boyfriend was an understatement. They refused to talk to you unless it was in the form of screaming criticism and insults that left you crying yourself to sleep. Sometimes, when their day had been especially shit, they wouldn’t bother to make you dinner and leave you to munch on a piece of burnt toast instead. It seemed to reach a boiling point, though. They were sick of you coming home, dragging your feet as you made your way up to your room to study—they were sick of you feeling anything other than motivated. It was a Tuesday when it happened. You’d only just placed your school bag on your bed and collapsed against the springy mattress when your mother swung the door open, almost with enough force to take the door off the hinges. Initially, you couldn’t even make out the words she was saying. She was yelling, that was certain, but it was almost so loud that you couldn’t process it—that and the fact you were exhausted. Then she started opening your wardrobe, dumping clothes on the floor. That’s when you started to understand her.

“What?” It was the only word you could utter in that moment. You had no clue how to respond, the shock coursing through your body seemed to eliminate all of your vocabulary aside from questioning words.

“You heard me!” You weren’t sure if you had, “I’m sick of you putting no work in—we’re both sick of it. Now you’re running off with this… this hooligan, so you can throw your life away?” The distant sound of your father making his way to your room didn’t even register in your brain, “we gave you everything, and this is how you repay us?” Your mother was screaming, flushed and furious. You were blank, numb with ringing ears. This couldn’t be happening. It was a joke, right? The trance was broken when your father slammed a duffle bag on the floor in front of you.

“If you want to throw your life away, then don’t let us stop you!” He was always terrifying when he yelled, they both were, “you better be gone by tonight. We don’t want to see you here again, not after what you’ve done to us,” they left with a slam of the door. You wanted to scream, cry, kick the wall, anything. You had nowhere to go, no family or friends to turn to. At this point, you might as well die; it would certainly be easier, but the thought was frightening. With glossy eyes and jagged breaths, you stuffed some belongings into the duffle bag. Clothing, sanitary and hygiene products, spare cash, whatever would help you survive out there. Any school supplies went into your school bag; you didn’t stop to think about how you’d manage it all, you didn’t want to. It wasn’t safe for you to be on the streets, you knew that, but what else were you to do? You’d forged a routine in the three days you’d been kicked out; you couldn’t come to terms with your situation, refusing to acknowledge you were homeless. The word harboured too much finality, fragility, fear, it would only make you more panicked than you already were. Sleeping in the park, locking your belongings in the last stall in the bathroom at said park, occasionally taking the bus to the beach so you could take a proper shower, then juggling school on top of that. It was awful, but you didn’t know what else to do.

“Turn the radio down and lay you down too, I could be the one for you,” San tapped his thumbs against the black steering wheel as he murmured the lyrics — it reminded him of the missed opportunity to present your parents with a dozen dead roses, and he didn’t really like thinking about that night. Truthfully, he didn’t really know where he was going. Hopefully somewhere quiet, somewhere he could clear his mind from all the current thoughts swarming around. Part of him regret taking you up on your offer of fake-dating—even if it was just one night—because how was he supposed to act now? He couldn’t look at you without seeing the proud smile you tried to conceal when he was passive-aggressive, or the glum expression you wore when you peeked out the window, or how he wished he was actually dating you so he could make sure you were never unhappy again. He shook his head sharply, eyebrows furrowed in an effort to jar the thoughts from his head. There was no reason for him to be thinking that way. You were the golden child, intelligent and passionate, hardworking, respectful. Who was he? Some no-good delinquent who did you a favour and then made a fool out of you, dismissed you so carelessly. Of course San knew you weren’t actually that person, but in that moment he managed to re-convince himself you were.

The noise shut off as San turned off the ignition, the silence deafening as he stared out the windshield. Glancing briefly at his surroundings, he recognised the environment as the neighbourhood park—or rather, the surrounding greenery and field nearby. The grass was dewy and littered with raindrops; he couldn’t remember it raining but droplets were scattered across the windshield. Odd, he supposed he was so deep in thought to notice the poor weather conditions. With a slight sigh, he unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the car door, allowing the chilled air to brush against his hoodie-clad abdomen. A beep sounded from the vehicle as he locked it with disinterest. He’d reached a point of absent-mindedness, carelessness even, that he no longer really cared if someone carjacked him; all he could think about was where he currently stood with you and where he wanted to stand. How did it reach that point so fast? One dinner with your parents and suddenly he’s whipped. Though, he supposed it was more than that. There was no denying that the two of you hadn’t always seen eye-to-eye, but even back then San couldn’t deny you were unfairly attractive. He saw the way your eyes gleamed when you laughed at something your, now former, friend said, the smile that seemed to brighten the whole room when you beamed with glee, the way you were genuinely relieved and thankful when he fake-dated you. Gosh, he’d been whipped for so long, hadn’t he? The moment he laid eyes on you in his preteen years, perhaps. Shoes scuffed against the concrete as he wandered the area, a scoff exiting his mouth as his melancholy thoughts progressed—they only filled him with disappointment. Because he finally realised the very moment he had a chance to make you his, he fucked it up.

“Y/N?”

The voice vaguely called out to you, stirring your consciousness as you wondered whether it was part of your dream or reality. Eyebrows furrowed as you searched for more sleep, approaching footsteps along the dewy grass.

“Y/N.”

It wasn’t a question anymore, the voice knew it was you. There was familiarity to it, but you didn’t know a voice that soft. It was a male voice, soft and laced with genuine concern. That was something you hadn’t encountered in a while. Opening your eyes groggily, you squinted at your surroundings. The uncomfortable park bench, the midnight blue-black sky and moon beaming upon you, casting a glow around the boy bent in front of you. The very, very familiar boy crouched down to your level. You shot up, waking up as recognition hit you—recognition and humiliation to be exact. He would use this against you, wouldn’t he? He’d let everyone at school laugh at you in the hallways for being kicked out by your parents. He’d let you drown in a sea of mortification while everyone cheered your demise on.

“Hey, careful there,” his hands flew out to support you as you nearly slipped off the bench you haphazardly sat on, “what are you doing out here?”

Eyes downcast towards your cold hands as you fiddled with the soft, yet thin, blue material of your blanket, you pondered your words momentarily.

“Y-you told me to stop bothering you,” as much as you wanted to sound strong and unbothered, you couldn’t hide the croakiness of your voice or the tsunami of misery seconds from drowning you. You wanted him to leave, stop pretending that he cared and left you to take care of yourself, but you knew it wasn’t that simple. It was easy for San to see your pain.

“Did they kick you out?” He ignored your reminder, his voice had somehow grown even softer as he spoke that phrase. Tears pricked your eyes, but you refused to acknowledge him again. Acknowledging him meant breaking down your walls, letting him see how tired you truly were. You were beyond fucking exhausted.

“Talk to me, Y/N!” The voice loudened, almost shouting and causing you to flinch as his hands held your wrists. He soothed his thumbs over your skin, whispering out a desperate “please.”

In that moment, everything seemed to fall into place. You could tell him, you could trust him. He showed you his vulnerability, his concern and anguish, he trusted you enough to break the cool facade he maintained through school hours—and confrontational dinners with your parents—there was no reason not to trust him. No, Choi San was the only person you could trust.

Words couldn’t pass your lips, you knew they’d fall out as choked sobs and pathetic whimpers. So you simply nodded, eyes squeezing shut as salty tears slithered down your cheeks. Yet, your simple nod seemed to be enough confirmation for San, releasing your wrists and moving to side beside you on the bench. His arms wrapped around you, voice murmuring a soft “come here” as he left you sob into his chest, even if it left dark splotches on his hoodie. For all your life, you’d never been very certain about anything. Yet, somehow, as San lay his head on yours and spoke comforting words into the dark night, you were absolutely certain he was the one for you.

It took a little bit to adjust to your new situation—living with San, that is. There were moments where your trust in him faltered, or where you felt guilty for becoming such a heavy burden in his life, and his friend’s life. His friend, Wooyoung, was nice. You didn’t talk to him often — mainly because you wanted to stay out of the way and, in the rare occasion you didn’t, you weren’t entirely sure of what to say — but you could tell he was trying his best to make sure you were comfortable. You appreciated it, more than you could express, but it also made you feel an immense guilt. The kind that you carried around until your back physically hurt from the unseen weight, until you broke down one night and blurted everything to San. He was always so willing to listen to you, comforting and soothing as he reassured you your worries were valid, that everything would be okay. From that night on, things were a little easier. You helped around the house so the boys could focus more on working, there was less crushing guilt as you came to terms with your situation and began to realise that San didn’t invite you to stay with him because he was forced to. Rather, it was because he wanted you to.

There were rare moments where San couldn’t hold it anymore, and crumbled under the weight of his own worries and frustrations. You’d heard the distant sniffling at night, sounding from the closed bathroom. You’d knocked once, quietly asking if everything was okay—at that point you were unaware it was San, not until you opened the door at least. He was hunched over the counter, head in his hands and knuckles bloodied, cracks and droplets of blood dented in the mirror from the impact of his fist. The crimson colour decorated the white counter too, in small droplets that filled you with panic. You rushed to his side, asked him if he was okay, asked him what happened. You’d gently taken his hands, aiming to inspect the torn skin on his busted knuckles. The boy didn’t stand there like you expected him to, instead, he fell into you, resting his head on your shoulder as he sobbed. You’d put your hand on top of his head, stroking the locks of blonde hair as you whispered that everything was okay, it was going to be okay. San didn’t make eye contact while he was telling you his troubles, how much he hated himself for choosing some ‘bad boy’ facade over your feelings, how he hated the assumptions people made about him, how he hated the fact that it was his fault people made such assumptions. You listened, quietly, until he shook his head and told you it was stupid, to forget about it. He went to get up, but you refused, wrapping your arms around his torso and resting your head on his shoulder.

“You’re not a bad person, San. You’re forcing yourself to be someone you’re not.”

It wasn’t a revelation he was unfamiliar with, just one he couldn’t accept until you reminded him. Maybe it became ingrained in his memory because that was when he finally broke down and told someone, maybe it was because that was the night you stayed beside him until the sun rose, or maybe it’s because that was the night he realised you felt the same way.

Choi San was an outspoken, cocky, rebellious, hooligan—people would tell you that for as long as you lived. But, Choi San was also generous and kind. He was adventurous and comforting. He’d take you for drives when the moon shone brightly and watch the stars with you on the hood of his car, show you the beautiful places hiding within the city. He was so much more than a boy in a leather jacket.

Choi San was everything your parents hated, he was the one they wanted you to stay away from.

He was blunt, brazen, bold, protective, obstinate, hard-working. He was your saviour, your roommate, your friend, your classmate, the one to take you places you’d never seen before, the one to calm you down when you were overwhelmed or stressed.

He was the boy who kissed your lips with pure delicacy, sincerity, unadulterated love—the kind of love you’d never felt before. He was the boy who treated your heart as if it were his own.

Choi San was everything you wanted, he was the only one for you.

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