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corancoranthemagicalman · 4 years ago

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C’s (1/?) Destiel Rec List:

That gets less and less coherent as it goes.

So here is a rec list by order in which I read them and not by preference. They’re like, All Destiel, because that’s how Post-November C rolls:

First on the list is The Courtship of Combat by bendingsignpost 18k

I KNOW it’s not Thee fic by bendingsignpost that everyone is talking about. I know. BUT, I dearly enjoyed it. It’s the first in a series and it’s A/B/O. (I know. I know. Don’t @ me. Or do.) It’s pre-relationship and the characters are definitely themed toward early-Destiel if you catch my drift. Omega!Dean’s hand is being fought over. This wouldn’t matter to Castiel except he totally told Michael that the reason he wouldn’t marry anyone is because he’s head over heels for the Winchester Omega that he doesn’t even have a real recollection of ever meeting. It’s like the perfect balance of a meet-cute and meet-ugly. I just LOVE bendingsignpost’s Castiel voice. It’s such a great characterization.

I’M GONNA SCREAM THE SECOND ON THE LIST IS ANOTHER A/B/O?!? I swear I don’t read that much A/B/O, but this is another exception because it’s Biological Imperatives (Or Not) by tiamatv 29k

Tiamatv is one of my favorite writers. If you’re unfamiliar with their work, I’m gonna rec more of it to you. No worries. THIS lovely piece of work is a Beta/Beta narrative that focuses on how hilarious A/B/O tropes are from an outsider perspective, but doesn’t do it in a way that feels insulting to the classical tropes. It’s just people living their lives where these situations happen not often but enough that they know how to deal with it. Dean and Cas have several first dates trying to figure out what’s happening between the two of them. Castiel is thee love of my life in this piece. And Dean’s headspace makes for a witty narrative.

If you know me at all, you know this next one HAD to be a regency and it’s Of Lords and Letters by MalMuses 14k

Dean is the master of the Winchester estate after his father passes. Unfortunately for the estate (but much to Dean’s pleasure), he can’t run it personally because he’s at war. Not that he likes war all that much, but it’s what he knows. War he knows. Sam is a conniving but well-meaning little brother and puts him in contact with Mister Castiel Shurley. (I KNOW. I KNOW. I allow Castiel Shurley in recent fics only if Chuck is cast as an asshole, and he is :)) But seriously, it’s SO Regency. There’s letters, pining, propriety, and men in period suits. What more could you ask for?

Y’all probably gonna immediately peg who I am as a person when I say Always Together, Eternally Apart by EmiliaOagi 27k is probably one of my top ten Destiel fics.

Here’s the thing—Ladyhawke is probably my second favorite movie in the entire world beat only by The Princess Bride. (Seriously, if y’all wanna bribe me with anything, it will always be that.) NOT ONLY does EmiliaOagi beautifully incorporate the source material, but once more Dean Winchester is SO Dean Winchester it hurts. This piece is from Sam’s perspective, and his running inner monologue is both insightful and entertaining. If you’re unfamiliar with the plot of Ladyhawke, I refuse to spoil it for you. Some things must be experienced, and this is one of them. Either by reading this lovely work or by viewing the original film, you’ll understand the legend that so captivates me.

OH ANOTHER DELICIOUS ONE and it’s like in that vein of Retired Hunters But Not Yet Together Destiel is Welcome to Pine Shores! by andimeantittosting (Saylee) 20k

It’s always fun reading Dean character studies, and this is definitely one of them. So the long and short of it is PINING FOR DAYS (this was written for Pinefest) and Dean trying to set up Cas with other people because he thinks Cas might want more. Oh, and did I mention they’ve been running this motel for like thirteen years? And they share a bed? *Tropes Intensify*

There is also Dean Winchester and the Patron Saint of Blind Dates by goldenraeofsun 18k which I think some of y’all are familiar with.

Sort of what it says on the tin, to be honest, folks. Dean’s friends set him up with some blind dates and the bartender—Castiel—grips his Purple Nurple tight and raises him from perdition. (And no, it’s not a euphemism.) The dates are sort of outrageously in character and interestingly enough this is a Sam/Ruby fic too! I sort of liked how it played out in this piece. If you’re worried about the Sam/Ruby dynamic, fear not! They were both former addicts and have since been clean for (a year or two? I don’t recall the time frame.) Dean has a love/hate sort of relationship with an emphasis on hate with Ruby since she’s the one who got Sam into drugs (allegory for the demon blood) but she’s also the one to try to go clean first. I just thought that was an interesting take, and one I would’ve linked to have seen the show pursue to be honest, but Supernatural has to keep the hot ladies dead or villains or both haha ;)) I digress. It’s a smaller read but the subject matter is pretty heavy. From former religious cults to the former addicts, please keep in mind if mentions of these things make you uncomfortable. It’s definitely the one whose subject matter stuck out the most to me. So apologize if I’ve missed mentioning anything specific for y’all in the previous recs or this one.

WAIT THIS NAME LOOKS FAMILIAR!??! IT’S andimeantittosting (Saylee) BACK AT IT AGAIN BUT THIS TIME WITH The Winchester Affair 34k !!

SAYLEE YOU HAD TO MAKE IT ONTO THIS LIST TWICE. Another Regency, except this time Castiel is long time friends (with benefits *eyebrow wiggles*) with Dean. He’s in love with him, obviously, so this means that an asshole named Zachariah that we all know and loathe comes around planning to frame his poor sister (Hael) with stealing Mary Winchester’s brooch if Castiel doesn’t find some damning evidence on the Winchesters for him. DRAMA AHOY!!! This is a very harlequin/regency novel. It’s actually based off of a novel called Ware the Marquess as is the wont of the Destiel Harlequin Challenge. Very good challenge to check out; very excellent fic to read. And the author so nice we listed them twice. ;) SIDE NOTE: This is totally one of those Regency ones where It Simply Isn’t Done, if you know what I mean. Like, no one is outright slurring or something that I can recall (and it isn’t tagged so I doubt there is), but it Isn’t Done, But They Love Each Other Very Much.

So you guys know Scoobynatural is my comfort episode, right? Well, one of my favorite things that I’ve delightfully discovered is the trope of building off of Cas’ one-liner about being effin’ married, so have The Nikkah by Maxine (WinchesterPooja) 28k!

Reads like a Case-fic as there’s an entire sub-plot happening with Sam. So this story happens well within the canon despite being canon-divergent. This one does end happy!! There’s a view episode like fics I might rec that end in canon-fashion with Dean repression and I love the pining and all but sometimes I need sweet fandom closure. Long and short of it: Djinn culture? Djinn queen? Fake-relationships? Sam dealing with nightmares? This baby can fit SO MUCH ACTION into a fic.

Okay, so you know the fic with the Bee Movie allegory? (It’ll come up on this reclist.) This has the same vibe, except for the relationship is out of order and Dean is Diagnosed with If I Do It This Way It’s Okay. Yeah, it’s Command Me to Be Well by prosopopeya 28k

Human Cas, back from the dead, post-finale, and Dean is trying to figure out how to get his happy ending. I’ve seen this one make the rounds on fic rec’ing so I think it’s a bit familiar, but I enjoyed it. Even though—as my bookmark says—I usually don’t go in for hurt/comforts with heavy on the hurt because my poor heart can’t take it. This is one of my few exceptions. This one has a healthy dose of Castiel standing up for himself with the bittersweet tang of him literally willing to do so much for Dean. But it’s a Dean perspective, so it really deals with a lot of his inner thoughts.

This one is,,,, in a similar vein as Command Me to Be Well. I guess I was in a mood. Baby, Come On Home by woodenducks 9k.

IT’S SEASON NINE WITH A SIDE OF PINE. What more could you ask for angst? Human Cas in Rexford trying to make a life for himself when all he wants is to go home. But he’s also trying to figure out what home even is for him. There’s a lot of drama between Dean and Cas, because of course Dean wants him there. But blah blah angels and blah blah whatever excuse the writers wanted so we couldn’t have human Cas and Dean in the bunker. We KNOW obviously the only thing keeping canon Dean from snapping was the fact that Cas was not human around him. *heavy eyeroll*. Anyways, this is a heartbreaking read from Castiel’s perspective.

One of my favorite Rescue Cas from the Empty fics is (they'll never break) the shape we take by auroralynches (teresavampa) 9k.

There’s this super cool concept of how Castiel experiences his regrets within the Empty and how Dean navigates through them to get to Castiel. I really enjoyed it, and of course the greatest love story ever told has got to have SOME theatrics and sentiments that are definitely reflected in this fic. My point is, I really love when Empty Rescue fics include analyzing Castiel’s regrets, and this one does so but from Dean’s perspective. As in Dean is viewing Castiel’s memories and trying to perceive his regrets.

Sooooo Epistolary by tiamatv 9k eh?

I love love LOVEEEEEE epistolary fics. I love them. I’ll always read them. And I totally told you I loved tiamatv. This is probably another one for the top ten fics just because it plays into my things. Love letters, music, and misunderstandings, oh my!!

HERE’S A VERY SEXY TERRIBLE LIFE ----> Ties that Bind Us by TheTwistedWillow 13k

Okay, so BASICALLY what if It’s A Terrible Life happened in like, circa-season 13 and Castiel was thrown in with Dean Smith and Sam Wesson. Literally all that I wanted in this fic. I do mean it’s sexy, by the way. I can’t even begin to explain this fic beyond it’s Castiel’s perspective, and he has some awareness that something is off. And being inside Castiel’s head when he’s not Castiel gets me every time.

OKAY I KNOW THIS IS THE THIRD A/B/O FIC ON THIS LIST I KNOW I KNOW The Mills School for Distinguished Girls by SillyBlue 13k IS WORTH IT THOUGH?!?!

Alpha Dean Winchester is going off to war. In the meantime, his family still doesn’t know about his marriage to Omega Castiel (in fact, they still think Castiel is a Beta.) Male Omegas are very rare in this universe, and it is addressed along with the fact that just because Castiel might look different on the outside doesn’t make him any different than the girls. Which I thought was a thought-provoking interpretation. There’s prejudices here—a lot of them against women and omegas—and a temporary character death which actually moved me to tears. I bookmarked this saying bring the tissues; bring the tissues.

THE BEE MOVIE FIC THE BEE MOVIE FIC THE BEE MOVI— according to all known laws of life by sobsicles 29k sobsicles I owe you a great slice of pie.

Sobsicles, my beloved, my bestie <3 (am I allowed to say that? I mean it affectionately. Well and truly.) You REALLY got in my head with this one. This is literally such an insane read that I read it twice in a row. Yeah, whoops. Cas is back from the empty and Dean is an asshole about it because feelings are hard. Here is what I bookmarked this fic with: “Dean Winchester has issues. He gets through them. Like a Bull in a China Shop, but he gets through them. The metaphor works.” And that is EXACTLY what happens. Dean is such an asshole and I LOVE IT. 14yr me would cry at the concept of reading this but 14yr me is a tasteless bitch. This is where it’s at. Dean has so much he’s mentally working through and Cas won’t take no shit and Sam is tired. It’s great. I love it. I know we rec sobsicles left and right over here (and I know there’s a new one I haven’t read yet) but this one is really my favorite. And I know some people feel uncertain when fics/authors get popular in a fandom, so if this isn’t for you that’s okay!! But well and truly this is just one of those in the top ten Destiel fics of my heart.

Baby Jack during the Widower Arc truther here like Trial and Tribulations of Raising a Nephilim by Sickandtiredofyou 14k

I’ve seen this one rec’d before but not enough. Like this one SHOULD be talked about. Because I am a Baby Jack Truther, and putting a baby in the widower arc is my literal weakness. Dean goes crib shopping. He paints the nursery. He does that season 2&3 thing he does where he wrecks something so that he has to rebuild it. He’s mourning. He’s crying. Sam is afraid to hold a baby. There’s a lot of emotions and they’re raw. Promise there’s a happy ending, but be ready to cry first.

Another sam pov because i love my little brother Letters to Nowhere by Goodluckdetective (scorpiontales) 28k

AWWW YES. So this is another Empty Rescue fic. This one plays up the Orpheus and Eurydice lore, but in a surprising twist this is Sam’s POV!! Sam doesn’t know the full story, and we as the audience aren’t granted omnipresence for this fic either. It’s just point blank is his emotions. Him worrying for Dean, missing Cas, and wanting a happy ending for all of them. It’s sort of epistolary with how Sam is texting Castiel’s phone, but in general it is Sam Winchester wanting to save both of his brothers. So despite it being Destiel, the Destiel is almost the background ship since this story is Sam’s story and how Sam witnesses their story. It’s pretty meta in that sense, in that he’s aware there’s this grand story going on and we as an audience know there’s this grand love story happening, but we’re reading Sam’s story.

One of those i mentioned where its like an episode and they just end with tension between them >:((( but SO enjoyable and very much like an actual MotW Soul Searching by Lottiethroughthelookingglass 13k

It is in a screenplay format, but I didn’t mind that. It’s definitely a fun read! I thought the characterizations were pretty grand all-in-all. No get together though in this one if you’re looking for Destiel. Sorry. But it does make its way on to the list because we deserved a body swap episode and never got it.

This is like the third fic by tia and im not sorry and it’s Filoplume by tiamatv 8k !!!!

Its SOULMATES BAYBEEEE!!! But it’s not destined Soulmates. It’s like… soul compatibility, but only AFTER you’ve forged the bond. Self-Made Soulmates as it were. Very achingly and lovingly sentimental. Like, I think I’ve read this one four times in one week? It’s the shortest rec on this list (and while I definitely have shorter works bookmarked, I wanted this rec list to be longer ones for some reason I guess) but it feels longer. Maybe because every paragraph is like a gut punch. egGH. It’s another Empty Rescue by-the-by and Dean’s soulmark (given to him by Cas after Castiel’s Despair Confession) helps get him into the Empty.

OHOHOH LEVERAGE AU!!?! The Jericho Job by giantteenwolforgy 20k

The first in a series and I am SO EXCITED FOR MORE. I absolutely adore Leverage, so seeing this was like clearing my skin with care products I’ve never used. The characterizations are amazingly well done and vivid. They feel so unbelievably real and it makes me an eager beaver to get to the meat of them connecting as a team and family, but the slow burn is well worth it.

Yes, yes, Dean needs him, and need = love for Dean’s vocab but what does dEAN WANT and what does want mean to Dean? Find out in if you try sometimes, well you just might find by JenTheSweetie 9k

I’ve always been a huge fan of metas that dissect Dean’s differeniation of need vs want, and this whole work was like one of those metas. It’s a Cas POV of him trying to figure out how to read this man that he knows so well. It pulls out the angst and it makes me ache, but promises there IS a happy ending and Dean WANTS it.

Shush you know you want Goodbye Stranger meets Detroit: Become Human you knOW YOU WANT IT Digital Heartbeat by Chancy_Lurking 14k

MHM IT’S SO GOOD. Talk about good characterization. This work is almost a time piece? There’s a few skips in the timeline but you get the good parts and what’s needed for a full narrative. Castiel is an android sent by Cyberlife to the Men of Letters for aiding in hunting. He’s—of course—assigned to the brothers Winchester.

Shush delicious content right here mwah Heartstring Promenade by SaltyWords (agent4hire22) 17k

Another Empty Rescue?!? Yeah, yeah it is. Dean is sort of reckless. And by that, I mean a lot. But it’s fine. All happy endings, and smutty endings too. ;))

This is one of two 36-questions inspired fics I’ve got bookmarked, but the sex in this one hits my preferences too perfectly so it gets the spot and this list is getting too long to include all of my bookmarks to include both of them anyways but Seek to Know You Better by ahurston 32k mhmmmmmm

This fic is very personal to me. I couldn’t explain even if you asked me to. It might be the Florida Citrus Tree expressionism in Cas’ thoughts, but idk it's such a mystery (the way you know me) by fleeceframe 20k has got it on the list.

Cas loses his memories for a short period of time. Dean and Sam introduce Castiel to Cas, and Dean and Cas have a heart to heart. <3

A vERY interesting premise in a fool's kind of careless by Paclipas 9k

Dean is SUPER off his game when he can’t tell the difference between Cas and Not-Cas over the summer. Canon-fic.

A FIC FROM 2018?!?! WITH TIME TRAVEL??!? Ye ye it is Crazy Diamonds by pantheon_of_discord 24k

Dean of 2018, married to Castiel, swaps places with his newly dragged from Hell 2008 self. Time shenanigans and Bobby Frickin’ Singer ensue.

This one is ONE I AM OBSESSED WITH ACTUALLY And Neither Do You by callsigntango 45k like if it's not the one everyone starts talking about :((( is SO GROSS how callsigntango describes the empty and i lOOOVEEEE ITTTTT. Also plays into a Florida myth I totally forgot about so high-key freaked me out. Hahah.

#spn #spn fics #destiel #destiel fics #destiel fan fic #fic rec #fan fic #rec list #a fan fic rec list #feel free to judge me <3 #or talk to me about these fics ???#they're great #let's start a book club and scream about writers

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herri-writes · 3 years ago

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How To Make Friends With Sebek Zigvolt (Gone Wrong)

Sebek Zigvolt x Reader (F)

Note: I wanna die because of writer's block so I continued with anything I could think of.

Also, this is a behind the scenes on how were you able to make friends with Sebek.

Read this first before you'll read this.

Tagging: @countessofwisdom because we went crack and she gave me ideas. Hehe.

Anyways, have fun reading^^

"Curse that gao gao dragon simp! I'll burn him to ashes and cinders!" You shouted as you throw the pillow across the room. Currently, you were venting your thoughts inside your senior's room and he fell asleep in the middle of your childish rants.

"Silver? Can you even hear me? Are you even listening?" You said and you poked his cheek. "Silver?" There's no response from the sleeping knight. You saw him fell down and lied on his bed. You sighed and stood up to adjust his position to a comfortable one. You placed a blanket on his sleeping form and left his room slowly and quietly.

As you exited the room, you turn to the path heading your bedroom. Instead of seeing the quiet hall, you were met by scarlet eyes and hot pink hair.

"So, how are your results of "Sebek's List of Friends"?"

You suddenly screamed by the sudden surprise and fell backwards. The floating fae chuckled at your reaction and reached out his hand to help you stand up.

"Lilia, how many times do I need to tell you not to do that again?" You pouted and turned away.

"I'm sorry, Beastie," he apologize and hugged you from behind. "Are you hurt?"

"No, I'm fine," you said as you respond to his hug by putting your hand on his.

"I know making friends with Sebek is hard. It takes time." Lilia hugged you gently for comfort and pat your head. "But," he added, "you can try doing things in your own way."

"The last time I did that was few years ago. I forgot how to do it." Lilia cupped your cheeks at your response. "Dearie, I did say to make friends in your own way. Not repeating it. Try to be unique."

He looked into your eyes and asked you, "Beastie, how you were able to make friends with me?"

"You were the first one who approached to me because I was the only one who was left out on the group?" You answered in a questioning tone. He saw that uncertain look in your face. "What else?"

"I was one of the Light Music Club's club member?" "What else can you think?"

"You're my senior and I'm a dorm member of Diasomnia." Lilia nodded and smiled.

"Actually, you were the one who came close to me before I do." "Huh?"

"Beastie, you know how unique every student here in Night Raven College, am I right?" You nodded and Lilia continued, "You're also unique. You were able to make friends other than the students here in Diasomnia and outside the Light Music Club." You nodded again.

"Not to mention, you fell in love with your friend from the past, isn't it?" Lilia smirked and you blushed.

"But they were the ones who approached to me first and became friends with them but I was the one who left them behind." Lilia let go when he saw your saddened face as you said those words.

"But, you can start making friends from others by starting from square one."

Remembering Lilia's words, you thought that this was your chance to make friends in your own way by you making the first move. You started planning by reading a book in the dorm lounge, where the dragon prince and his trusted companions will show up in a moment.

You were so focused at the book you read that you almost forgot about the plan. While you were so busy focusing on the book you read, someone here wanted to spook you.

"Beastie, may I ask what you're reading?"

Lilia floated in front of you, upside down. There was no response from the human. He went closer and waved his hand to get your attention, "Beastie, are you awake?" No response, still silent.

Lilia told Silver and Sebek not to disturb you and sit beside you. Somehow, you ended up sitting between them on the sofa. With Silver sitting at your left and Sebek at your right, it seemed like they were protecting you instead of the draconic fae prince.

Meanwhile Lilia and Malleus sat on the other sofa in front of you. Seeing that this will be one of the ways to get your attention, Lilia magically summoned a tea set to drink tea and eat sweets with them while you were in your own world with a book.

While they're drinking tea, Silver felt l

drowsy and out of habit, he laid his head on your shoulder and slept. Lilia was surprised that you were really vulnerable right now, even with Silver sleeping beside you.

You felt something heavy on your left shoulder so you looked at it and nearly screamed. You turn to the one on your right and the two in front of you. You were clearly stunned at the ones surrounding you right now.

"G-Good afternoon, young lord and senior Vanrouge," you quietly said since there was someone sleeping beside you. "I apologize for not noticing your presence."

"No need to apologize," Malleus said and take a sip of his tea. "Lilia prepared this tea for us. Care for a drink?"

"I'll accept it." Lilia placed tea on your cup and warned, "Careful, Beastie, it's hot."

"Thank you, Lilia," you took the cup from its handle and drink it carefully, not to burn yourself.

"We didn't want to disturb you since you seemed like you were in your own world," Lilia said as he looked at you with a gaze tells you for a single reminder. "But you were here for a reason, right?"

You blinked twice. "Oh, right, I forgot about that." You turned to Sebek who was beside you. "Zigvolt, I wanted to tell you something."

"Say it, human," he said it with no hesitation and you glared at him because of the nickname he gave you. "I heard from senior Vanrouge that you weren't able to make friends here in Diasomnia or at Night Raven College. Am I wrong?"

"Hmph, what makes you, a human, would say those words in front of anyone?" He haughtily said and you irked. "What I'm trying to say here is that I would like to be your friend."

"Human, I don't need friends unless they also respect the young lord." Another irk mark was revealed. Lilia saw that and it was clearly visible on your forehead.

"Zigvolt, let me state some facts," you quickly said and placed your hand on his shoulder. You clearly lost your patience and tried not to show it in front of your seniors. "The young lord, Malleus Draconia, a crown prince of the Valley of Thorns, the future king, the fifth strongest fae, and the dorm leader of Diasomnia, made a friend which is the magic-less human, a resident of Ramshackle." Sebek's eyes widen at your words.

"That human, is my friend and my classmate, who survived six-- no, seven overblot incidents and I have a great feeling that they're about to go to the eighth. They became a friend to senior Draconia while you are still stuck, idolizing your idol and you notice how a rare few of the students here couldn't make friends with you?" You stood up from your seat, forgetting the person who slept on you and he fell down on the sofa.

"I said, "I want to make friends with you." and here you are, using a standard to have them take part of your friends list. How many are there, hm?" Sebek was stunned. Lilia and Malleus noticed the change in the tone of your voice and thought if he said something that caused Sebek to step on a landmine.

"I clearly followed Lilia's request and you were just running away with it. Are you scared of people running away from you from how different you were to the others in your homeland?" The poor boy have no words and froze at the situation he was in. Malleus looked at Lilia if he knew about this behaviour of yours but the small fae shrugged it off.

"Call me "human" again and I will burn you to cinders. Understand?" Silver woke up and he immediately embraced you to calm you down after he heard what you said just now. But your strong grip on Sebek's shoulder made him unable to make you separated from the poor first year.

After you felt Silver's strong yet gentle embrace, you calmed down and let go of Sebek. You told Silver to let you go and he did. You massaged your temples and sighed, "In the name of the Great Seven, Sebek, please. You're a student, not a guard!"

"I rather stand guard and protect the young lord than hanging around with a reckless human." You gave him a smile, telling him that he stepped on another landmine. "Sebek, I have a name."

You swear your anger rised up to the limit. Your body instinctively did "that" pose, the one your friend did when his delinquent mode turned on. You began to crack your knuckles and wrist gave him a smile that shows one emotion, anger.

"So you have chosen death."

And you took that personally.

A few days has passed and it was still the same as usual. The halls in Night Raven College is less crowded as usual and you were spending time with Deuce, Ace, Grim, and Yuu. You also met Jack and Epel along the way from the ADeuce combo plus Grim's shenanigans and you were so done with them. But, instead of getting mad at them, you gave up and let them do their thing.

On your way to the Light Music Club, you saw a fellow dormmate from Diasomnia and he was just exiting the classroom he was in. You headed towards his classroom to greet him.

"Good morning, Sebek," you waved your hand and smiled. While the other students from his class noticed your ribbon of your left arm, they mind their own business and left to head off to their next class.

"Good morning, human-- I mean, (Y/N)," Sebek said as he stood tall with pride but he cleared his throat after he stuttered. You smiled, "So, have you learned your lesson?"

"Yes." He nodded.

You punched him in the face, right in the eye after you said your last words before you left the dorm lounge and went to Ramshackle for air.

"I want to apologize for making a scene in front of the young lord. Now, if you'll excuse me. I'll be off to Ramshackle." And you left the dorm.

"See, I told you not to make her angry," Lilia chuckled at the scene.

"I want to apologize, young lord," the unfortunate male apologized and bowed down. "Sebek," Malleus called him, "don't apologize to me. Apologize to her."

"Understood," he saluted in response. Sebek was about to leave but Lilia stopped him.

"Sebek, I have to warn you about (Y/N)'s temper." Sebek stood at ease and listened to Lilia's warning.

"She may be a reckless one but she can hold a grudge and release it on anyone who made her mad anytime she like. She has this delinquent-like personality if she's angry. She may be calm at times but be careful on what she's about to do to you."

"Understood, master Lilia."

'What happens in Diasomnia, stays in Diasomnia.'

Day 1

You were walking down the halls and you chose violence for what he had done to you yesterday. While you were sulking around with a grumpy face, you saw him, alone in the same hallway as you. Without hesitation, you sprinted towards him and you pounced on him with all your strength, causing you both to fall down.

"Human, what in the--" You may or may not have kneed him on his torso.

You immediately stood up and left him there lying on the floor and you ran away.

"There's more where that came from!"

Day 2

Vargas planned for a joint class with class 1-A and class 1-D at the field for flying lessons. You smirked devilishly when you found your victim isolated from their group, standing while holding their broom in a firm grip.

You told Vargas to have you as Sebek's partner and he agreed and called him. Sebek scowled at you while you're smiling at him, innocently.

Both of you went to the one of the open spaces of the field and warmed-up. Preparing for your next plan, you rode on your broom and began to levitate in the air. Sebek look up and felt like his broom is carrying him up to the air.

You went higher and higher and he did the same. He didn't know why but you used your magic to bring him along with you in the sky.

Seeing that you both are in the right height, you turned upside down and it scared him when he saw you creating that stunt.

"Look at me! I'm Lilia!" you moved your hands as if you're flying and pretended like Lilia.

"Don't impersonate master Lilia like that, human. It disgusts me." He said as he looked away but a hit of realization got him and flew away from you.

"I said, don't call me human! I have a name!"

After class, you pounced on his back and hugged him from behind. You smiled and told him, "This is what you get for calling me "human"."

"What are you--"

"German Suplex!" You shouted and you flipped him over with all of your strength. You jumped and walked away, leaving him lying on the cold floor in the halls of Night Raven College.

Day 3

"Sebek!" You called him in the dorm lounge. "Would you like to try something?"

"As long as it's not dangerous nor poisonous or I won't be able to protect the young lord," he said and you glared at him. "Actually, senior Vanrouge told me to look for you. He's currently in the kitchen. He told me to look for you to try one of his "homemade" cooking. Senior Silver and senior Draconia-- I mean, the young lord can come with me."

Not mentioning their names made you think it won't go the way you planned. You looked at Silver to see his face, pale as a ghost. But Malleus looks as pale as a dead corpse.

"I-It's alright, Sebek. You can go ahead," Silver said and looked away. "I'll be watching over the young lord."

"Understood, Silver." You mentally punched the air in joy when Sebek miraculously agreed.

Do you want to know what happened? It says here that Sebek died in the Diasomnia dorm and the cause of his death is Lilia's cooking. Just kidding, he didn't die, more like fainted after tasting Lilia's specialty.

Day 4

You and Lilia have a practice session in his room. Your throat was in pain for all of the shouting, screaming, and yelling at Sebek at flying lessons yesterday. You were quite unlucky because you burned yourself at potions class and you practiced playing the guitar. You still practiced even in Lilia's room but he saw the burns on your hand. He began to cover your hands with bandage while you were sitting on his bed, scratching your throat on how dry it is.

"Three days ago, you outdid yourself," Lilia said as he bandaged your hands. "Do you really want to annoy him that much, Beastie?"

"He told me that I'm a reckless human, Lilia," you said but your throat hurts from all of that screaming and you drank water. "I'll do the things he never expect me to do."

"Is that how you were able to make friends with the others in the past?" He asked you and looked in the eye. You shook your head. "Well, see? For three days, you tried to be close to him. I noticed all of this for those three days."

"You never know how to make friends back then, am I correct?" You nodded at Lilia's question. "Were they the ones who come closer to you, right?" You nodded again.

"You tried your best. There's room for improvement," Lilia gave you a pat on your head and you sighed. "Lilia, I told you about this back then, didn't I?"

"You did but you still tried." And you hugged him, ignoring the pain in your fingers. Lilia smiled and chuckled, "Now, now..."

For this whole time, you remembered what Lilia told you back then. You were the first person to approach to him with friendly terms other than a senior and as a junior but a friend.

"Thanks, Lilia," you stood up and left the room. You stopped and turn to him and said, "I think I know what to do."

Day 5

"You receive friends, I receive your words of slander."

"Human, you still made it worse. I don't need friends."

"Call me "human" one more time and I will murder you."

Your released a dark aura which anybody in the dorm lounged sensed it and felt it. You smiled while holding your anger. "Tell me, what should I do to make me as your friend? Other than respecting senior Draconia?"

"Nothing else other than that. That's it." He crossed his arms but you irked.

"I'm completely tired of all of this, Sebek," you sighed, "I'm getting worried about you to be honest."

"Worried about me? Why?"

"That's because you're a first year and you're a student and you should appreciate your high school life. It's okay to protect the young lord but what you did is too much. Even Lilia is worried about you. You mustn't forget he's also a father. He's also worried about anyone here in Diasomnia and he consider everyone here as his family."

Sebek listened to you while you were stating your reason why.

"None of the first years here in Diasomnia wants to make friends with me and they're as stubborn as a stone, like you. You were the only one I can talk to. Not because you were close to senior Vanrouge, senior Silver, or senior Draconia, that's because I want to be close to you as a friend and a fellow dormmate of Diasomnia. That's all I can say."

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I shall be heading off to Ramshackle." You stood up and left the dorm.

Day 6

"Full House!"

"Royal Flush!"

"Uno!"

"Blue Eyes! White Dragon!"

"I have Crowley's credit card!"

"You what?!"

"Why are you all here...?" You said as you look at your friends in horror. "Why are you all here...? In Diasomnia...? Do you have no fear?!"

"Never fear! Because the legendary prefect is here!" Ace and Deuce said as they dramatically posed and gestured their hands, pointing towards Yuu. They sighed, "I don't know you two."

"What is all of this?" You pointed at the cards and grabbed a credit card. "What in the Twisted Wonderland?! Poker? Uno? What card game is this? And why do you have the headmaster's credit card--" You asked them with an angry tone but was cut off when you coughed. The boys knelt down on the floor like kids, begging for forgiveness.

"And why are you all looking like little puppies who's asking for attention and forgiveness by acting cute?! Stand up! It's embarassing..." They all stood up and Ace spoke up, "You sound like Crewel--" "Bad dog! Now, sit!"

Ace knelt again on the floor. Deuce sighed, "You and your big mouth..."

You sighed and you turn to the entrance of Diasomnia where you saw Silver and Sebek walking their way towards the dorm lounge.

"My apologies, they wanted to see you," Silver said as he looked at you with a worried expression. He elbowed Sebek and he bowed down. "I want to apologize for my stubborness for the past few days."

You were stunned. 'Sebek apologized?? Is Scarabia snowing today? The Savanaclaw dorm is changing to spring? Are the roses in Heartslabyul is withering?'

"It's... alright..." you said, still stunned by Sebek's behaviour. "And by the way," You turned to the group who was just looking away the moment you look at them. "Why are you here?"

Sebek spoke up. "Actually, they heard that you caught a cold so they brought you something to make you feel well."

"We brought some tea. Riddle's request," Deuce showed a box of tea bags and gave it to you and Deuce gave you a box and scratched the back of his neck. "And Trey baked you some cookies. He told Deuce to give this to you," Ace giggled at Deuce's reaction.

"Thanks guys," you accepted it with a smile. "Deuce, stop acting all shy. You look like an idiot."

"We brought some cards to play," Grim pointed at the table, all piled up with different kinds of cards. "And board games." Yuu said and Epel explained how he got those. "We borrowed them from Idia and Azul," he said as he showed a Snakes and Ladders board.

"Did you form a contract with him?" You asked and Epel shook his head. "I only told Idia."

"While Jack brought himself. He'll let you pet his ears and tail!" Ace smirked and look at Jack. The wolf's tail wagged but stopped when he grabbed it. "I brought some macarons from the school cafeteria. Deuce told me you liked those."

"Aw, thanks guys," you're getting teary eyed and you sneezed.

Silver took the box of tea bags and cookies and went to the kitchen to prepare some (without Lilia's help of course) and told Sebek to stay here.

"Hey, Sebek," you called him. "Join with us!"

"No thanks," he declined. "I'll pass."

He sighed, "Just this once, human-- I mean, (Y/N)" And he played games with them and Silver joined in as he returned to the dorm lounge.

Two faes in the dark observed the group of young humans playing games. Seeing their smiles and laughter made them think that a human's life is short and precious. What they always look is Sebek's reactions while playing and your smile as you teased your friends.

"Yes, I am," he replied. "So what did Trein discussed at your class?" You asked and the both of you walked towards the courtyard.

"It's about the history of the Valley of Thorns," he answered. "It's important to learn that. Also, we're in Diasomnia."

"I know, Sebek. I know."

You two continued talking about the history that Trein discussed. While you were talking to him, you felt someone staring at you but you shook that off and ignored it.

"Anyways, are you going to see Lilia singing his heart out at practice?" You asked him. "You'll be able to know how he sings."

"I will, after club hours." He said and kept walking.

You chuckled, "Heh, in exchange, I'll visit you to the stables."

"You don't need to."

"What? Getting shy?"

"No, am not."

While you're teasing Sebek, three boys hid behind the pillar observed you two about the results of his request. The short one wiped his teary-eyed eyes while the taller one took pictures. Meanwhile the other one rode on his magic carpet.

"(Y/N), you made a good progress." Lilia nearly bawled his eyes out like a gentle father felt proud for his child's achievements. Cater and Kalim pat his back and comforted him.

W/N:

I wanna cry. I hate writer's block.

That's all I could say.

I'm sorry if it doesn't go the way you wanted. Now if you'll excuse me.

Anyways, have a nice day^^/

#twst #Twisted Wonderland #written by herri #Sebek Zigvolt #Sebek Zigvolt x Reader #i hate writer's block #wifi is back after the complete shut down last night #helpTT #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader

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sanguine-tenshi · 2 years ago

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Stranger things S03

I, I don’t even know where to begin.

I want to know who got fired between S02 and S03, because there’s such an obvious downgrade in quality. Someone obviously got fired. Someone who was holding this shit together with like chewing gum, scotch tape and prayers.

Or! Or the Duffers went on like a lunch date with D&D and all they did was just circle jerk each other off over what good writers all four of them are. Because this is approaching the unmentionable GoT season levels of bad. It’s not quite there, not yet, but it sure is approaching it.

God this season was just 6 hours of me screaming the word ‘why’ at my screen. Yes 6 hours because I watched this shit on 1.5x speed. And it still dragged it’s ass on certain parts so thank fuck I did.

So here, another complaint dump under the cut, because I just cannot help myself.

Word count under the cut: 3,207 words

Nancy Wheeler and Jonathan Byers

Oh yeah I’m putting them together because this season they shared one coffee pickled braincell. And most of the season Nancy clings to it. Jonathan isn’t a character anymore, remember.

I’m just...why? Why do they make one dumb decision after another?

Okay, okay let’s go in order.

Why is Nancy escaping out the window? No seriously. They are both adults with jobs. They’ve been together for how long, a year? Everyone knows they are together. Everyone knows they are fucking at this point. It’s not like Joyce disapproves of their relationship. Or that she dislikes Nancy. Or that they are a secret. And they aren’t being all that quiet when they wake up either. Just...why?

Next is the journalist bros. And it’s so stupid, that whole subplot. Are you really telling me they aren’t writing about Starcourt? Really? That’s not front page news in a small local paper? You really telling me the locals aren’t slobbering over every single little scrap of info on Starcourt? Starcourt, the new giant mall that is irreversibly changing their town’s business and culture?

I get that you needed Nancy to have her strong independent wamen moment. But could you make it fucking realistic? Something along the lines of: “Look sweetheart, do you really think we haven’t been writing about Starcourt? People are tired of it. You go to a neighborhood BBQ and all the talk is about Starcourt. Stay at home moms get together, drink cheap wine and talk about Starcourt. The book club talks about Starcourt. You go to the bar for a beer and talk about Starcourt. You are balls deep in your wife and her dirty talk is about Starcourt. It’s too depressing at this point we need something new. Something fresh! But I understand, you are young, you don’t understand how these things work. So don’t you worry your pretty little head about it, alright? Alright!”

And you can have Nancy start talking about some angle they haven’t covered yet. Some independent research she did because of Joyce, with Joyce. Maybe insert a bit of the actual mystery into it. Like she looked it up and the owners are being very sussy. She looked at the plans and there are airducts that lead to nowhere (definitely not to a secret Russian base). Something that’s close to the truth and gets our attention. But she gets dismissed. Because she’s the coffee intern and no one cares about her ideas.

Make the jurnobros sexist assholes, sure, but don’t make them stupid idiots on top of that. Make it interesting and engaging and relatable. This shit that you did? It’s boring. I’m bored. I don’t even hate them! Best they get is an eyeroll.

The rat subplot, God this shit made me miss season 1 Jonathan so much. My poor boy.

Why is Jonathan reluctant? Like since when isn’t he just as ready to divebomb into the deep end as Nancy? Grab the monster by the balls and shake till it chokes? That is what brought the two of them together in the first place. I get that he doesn’t want to lose his job but that’s all solved by him saying they shouldn’t do it on company time. What do these jurnobros care what two interns get up to after their shift?

And also are you seriously telling me Nancy and Jonathan the demogorgon hunters aren’t suspicious of a rat rattling it’s cage that violently. I’m not saying they have to immediately connect it to the Upside Down, but are you really telling me the two of them just went:

Also why didn’t they take the rat with them right away? I mean I know why, I’ll come back to rat goo at the end don’t you worry. But they wouldn’t just leave it there. It’s evidence! They would take it! Or are you really telling me the old woman didn’t want to give them the clearly fucked rat? Did she develop some sort of emotional connection to it?

Also why is Nancy uninterested in what Jonathan has to say about the rat? She’s like a dog with a bone. She’d be all over that shit.

Why did they get fired? Like their boss is flayed at that point and later on at the hospital its kinda implied that the Mind Flayer is gunning for them specifically. So why fire them? Why not just flay them with everyone else?

Their fight in the car is one of the best scenes in the show. I still wish it was more...violent, I guess, not in like a physical way. Just Jonathan should be a lot more angry at her. He did lose his job because of her, it’s kinda a big deal for his family and Nancy doesn’t understand, can’t relate, isn’t even apologetic. Like the words he says are all right, there’s just not enough emotion behind them. Season 1 Jonathan would have done it right.

And later on he doesn’t even hold her accountable. Like yeah you were right but there were better ways to do this shit. We could have come up with a better plan if you just took a moment to breathe. We didn’t have to take unneeded risks, risks that are worse for me than for you.

#giveJonathanHisBallsBack

The whole hospital thing is absolutely atrocious, the second one. It’s such a sudden and weird tonal shift for the show. Why are we in some bizarre Walking Dead knockoff reality suddenly? And there is just so much fucking standing around and staring. Fucking do something you fucking lemons! The two jurnobros melt and Jonathan and Nancy just sort of, fucking slow walk after the goo. Why the hell aren’t you hitting that Elden Ring skeletal slime shit with something! Just start fucking grabbing random ass chemicals and start pouring! Fucking Nancy at least douse it with the fire extinguisher! Or at least fucking take this window of fucking inactivity from murder goop to RUN AWAY! (I’ll come back to the goop monsters.)

And later on at the fucking cabin. Same shit. Stop fucking lollygagging and do something. Billy really out here doing his best to warn them that he knows where they are while being mind-controlled and having no clue what is happening and none of these simpletons catch it, not until its too late. Billy really breaking his back trying to save these, these KRETENI, and no one notices. Billy deserved better.

At least Jonathan finally wrestled the braincell back from Nancy, he was the only one who did something when shit started moving in El’s leg. My boy had a personality in only one scene this season.

The Scoops Troop

Ugh, alright. So what is with the tone of their whole plotline. It’s some sort of spy comedy. Since when is Stranger Things a spy comedy? Did I miss an episode? Maybe a whole fucking season?

Okay, let’s talk about the trope. The used be asshole popular guy has a change of heart and now can’t get any pussy trope. Why is it a thing? Why is it a thing in Stranger Things? Why did the Duffers feel the need to make it a point in the show that Steve doesn’t get any pussy anymore? I am baffled. Teen girls WILL fuck a good looking guy even if his social standing isn’t good anymore. They are high school students, their standards aren’t fucking high. Completely unnecessary subplot. Moving on.

Why is Robin the one solving everything? She just “joined” the gang, why does she have to solve every problem/mystery they have? Look I know Steve isn’t the brightest bulb, fine, but why is Dustin suddenly dumb and useless? Really guys. Can we have the guys actually getting stuff done? Just like all of the main gang guys. Please. Why are they still characters? Why keep them around if they serve no purpose other than comic relief?

Can we stop tearing old characters down in order to boost new ones. It cheap and hollow and we are over it.

Why are we involving another child in this? Steve and Dustin’s danger senses are probably fucked at this point, but Robin is a normal teen. She should have standards, she should know better, but instead its her fucking idea to involve a fucking child. And sure they don’t know the extent of the bullshit the Russians are doing, but for fucks sake generally people take shit seriously when guns get involved.

Also yes, commies are incompetent and like to cut corners but they aren’t this fucking incompetent. If you are going to make them get into a secret base could you make it harder and more complex than a fucking escape room?

Why aren’t they calling Hopper? This isn’t Upside Down related but the local chief of police, who you are monster hunter buddies with, would probably want to know about secret Russian shenanigans in his town. And then we could have them panicking about not being able to reach Hopper. And starting to suspect the Russians already have Hopper because of vague thing 3 Flo said about why Hopper is missing.

I do like Steve/Robin moments. Even if it is kinda obvious she was supposed to have a crush on Steve at first instead of Tammy. It’s fine, it deepens both their characters. But it is obvious that the first draft was to have them get together.

Billy Hargrove

Billy, oh Billy. I’m so sorry. You deserved better than this.

Ah yes, Billy Hargrove. The irredeemable racist asshole of the show, who just so happens to spend most of his screen time this season either crying or just about to cry and the rest somehow saving the main gang (or trying to). Truly a horrid character undeserving of your pity and love. Absolutely. Yep. No character depth to be found here what so ever. None. Mhm.

Ugh let’s get this show on the road, I’ll stop picking on antis.

So I have no idea why the Mind Flayer kept Billy around. Other than him being a name and face character that is. Plot armor do be thiccc for everyone this season. And emotional damage. Can’t forget emotional damage. Look I love Billy, but there was no actual reason for the Mind Flayer to keep him around. There was nothing special about him. You know what could have fixed this issue? A Billy has superpowers reveal. That would have made sense. Otherwise why keep him. Or why keep only him. Having a few more zombie drones could have helped as well, especially in the final fight. But the Mind Flyer is a useless goober. (More on that later.)

Also how in the name of Cthulhu is Billy the one with most development when he spends almost the whole season as a meat puppet? This shit is unreal.

At least we know why he had to die this season.

Look I’ve seen a lot of speculation and joke posts on here about why he had to die. But the truth is kinda fucking obvious. The Duffers wouldn’t know how to deal with him. We already know they can’t write trauma and character development. Or hell at this point I’m not sure they understand human emotions fully.

If Billy had survived they would have had to deal with all this shit. The survivors guilt. The second hand murder and kidnapping. The mind control. The brief flashes of Billy’s backstory. Billy’s fucking backstory. Just the general trauma.

They would have had to actually put some effort into Billy as a character instead of just Dacre bullying his way to a personality for Billy.

But nah, much easier to give us breadcrumbs and then kill the character off.

Because yes that is what the fandom wanted. Billy dead and the final death match between knockoff Terminator and depressed cop. Oh there was a window. Billy’s death was certainly slow enough for them to kill the Mind Flyer before it gave the death blow.

But nah. Nah.

Rest in peace, you beautiful man. You deserved so much better than this.

You all fucking did.

Miscellaneous

I want to know how much Coca Cola paid for that whole weird ass product placement scene. Lucas is literally moaning into his can. How much did they have to spit out for that awkward, out of place cluster fuck? I genuinely need answers.

What is up with Russian Terminator? Why is there a Russian Terminator in the first place? What show am I watching? He’s so out of place. Which one of the Duffers is jerkin it to the terminator so much that we needed a Russian Terminator in the show? All the Russians are these frumpy looking losers and then there’s the Terminator. He was so unnecessary. Just why? I was half expecting an android reveal at the end. What the hell?

Alexei’s death scene, that’s not how guns work. That’s not how silencers work. Okay guys. We live 40 years into the future and we don’t have silencers that are anywhere near that good. Can we please not anymore. Guns are LOUD. Do you know what isn’t loud. A fucking knife. And if you are going to go that closely to someone to kill them could you at the very fucking least not use a LOUD RANGED WEAPON! PLEASE!

Fun house scene. Hopper, why not shoot Russian Terminator in the head? He stares at him for long enough to realize there’s no blood. And this dude has been a pain in their ass the whole season. He should have fucking made sure the guy was dead.

The scene where they acquire Alexei, again the gun is a ranged weapon, there is absolutely no reason to shove it against someone’s head to make your point. In fact this scene is a lovely demonstration on why you don’t pull that shit on people. Hopper is a fucking cop he knows better. Also why and how does Joyce fuck up her throw THAT badly?

Can we talk about all the tonal and trope shifts this season? The scoops troop is in their own world of spy comedy. Nancy and Jonathan are in a NCIS/Bones knock-off, they even have one of those absolutely atrocious evidence-->flashback scenes, their plotline then abruptly switches into zombie horror and then into monster horror. Joyce and Hopper are in some sort of buddy-cop romcom drama with Russian Terminator cameos. And then it all somehow switches to monster horror/thriller with pre-apocalypse undertones. Can we keep this shit at least a little bit consistent? Like at all. What in the name of the holly Roman Empire were they thinking with this shit?

Also why do we have the same stupid shit with Joyce every season. The woman has been right about weird ass shit twice already, why do people keep on insisting on not believing her? At this point everyone should just go “Joyce noticed something so we are looking into it.” End of discussion.

Look when the conspiracy guy got Nancy and Jonathan together it was funny, also very creepy, weird and inappropriate, BUT FUNNY. Should have just left it at that one time. What is he? The hand of the audience now? Let characters get together in a normal way, not this shit!

I’m not even gonna talk about the singing scene. Nope! Skipped right through that crige!

Why do they reveal everything right away? No seriously. Pretty much from the start we know how the Mind Flayer looks and what it’s doing. Why was that decision made? Do you know what keeps people glued to their screens that fist watch? Fucking curiosity! So why do we know about everything AS it’s happening? Fuck only knows!

The Mind Flayer

I’ve already had a meltdown post over this so I’ll TRY to keep this concise.

God I cannot take this goofy idiot seriously what so ever.

Like look at this goofy goober! Look at him fucking TROTTING after the car like it’s a fucking pet the kids are taking out for walkies.

God I feel bad for the team of people that had to work day and night to bring this goofy fuck to life. So much time wasted.

How am I supposed to take this motherfucker seriously when it always takes it’s sweet time killing the main characters?

There are so many fucking opportunities for it to kill off the main cast and it just lets them get away every time.

Okay let’s talk about the goop.

Why was the goop included? It throws the power balance off completely.

There is nothing the characters can do to defend themselves against it. The only reason they do is because plot armor is fucking visible this season.

Look. It’s established that the goop can infect anyone, a rat weight of it is enough to infect a grown human. It’s also established that it can ooze through grates. So why is the Mind Flayer bothering with Billy kidnapping and princess carrying victims to it? Why not just send rats to every person in Hawkins and making them explode?

Like when the cabin fight happens. The goopy fuck could have just put a giant hole in the celling and then oozed inside and infected everyone. Why not?

Because this fucker is so fucking stupid that’s why. And that kills any and all intimidation/scare factor this thing had. Like it’s clearly smart enough to plan and hold a conversation but not smart enough to take the easiest route.

Why?

Also why were the demogorgons just dismissed. Like the demogorgons were a knock off xenomorph species. They have to be hatched inside a person. They have a slimy eel looking baby stage and just get progressively worse as they age. And they had some level of a hive mind with a queen-like entity.

The demogorgons were good. Nice. Simple. Defined.

I just do not understand why they were replaced with whatever the hell this season is doing. It’s just such a shift in powers. Where did the goop powers come from? How do they relate to the demogorgons?

Just, for the hundredth time, why?

Oh and I still have no idea why everyone was guzzling cleaning products and fertilizer.

That’s it. I’m done. I refuse to watch the 4th season. I have no hope for it.

If I do decide to write a fic in the future I’ll do wiki research on the Upside Down/Mind Flayer(/Vecna?) thing. And even then I’ll probably have to cut off most of the shit. I think I made my case in this post for why.

After this shit season I think I might just micro analize Billy, scene by scene. Like as a treat. For myself...and Dacre. Because he was legit the only one who cared enough about the character to give him a, ya know, a fucking personality. We both deserve it after this cluster fuck. If he said he had to fight for every single scrap of emotion for Billy I’d believe him. I don’t want his hard work to go to waste.

Congrats you somehow made it to the end. Have fantastic day, I’m gonna go get plastered.

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triptuckers · 3 years ago

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Nightmares - Kaz Brekker

Request: yes! “My favorite writer is accepting requests again? Love that for me (and everyone else who gets to read your writing) So I had this idea if that’s okay where like the reader and Kaz are dating but they’re still sleeping in separate rooms because Kaz isn’t quite there yet in overcoming his trauma to share a bed. And then one night he hears screams coming out off your room so he goes to you as fast as possible but turns out it was just because you had a nightmare and then how Kaz would deal with that in terms of comforting? Hopefully this is something that you’re okay with writing but no problems if not because I’ll still look forward to your other stories 💗” Pairing: kaz brekker x reader Summary: you wake up from a nightmare and kaz comforts you Warnings: angst, some language Word count: 1.4K A/N: sljflskjklfj someone’s favorite writer?? ME??? anon you have no idea how incredibly happy this made me !!! have a kiss on the forehead mwah

There was a small room attached to Kaz’ office, which he always used as storage. He called it a storage room, but it was more of a dump of papers, really. When things between you got serious, you started to spend more and more time in his office.

You’d often fall asleep on his couch, and wake up with back pain due to the uncomfortable positions you fell asleep in.

That’s when Kaz decided to clean out the storage room. Once all of the papers were taken out and sorted into neat piles, there was just enough room in it for a small bed.

When Kaz first showed it to you, he was a bit nervous. He thought you wouldn’t like it. But you beamed with happiness and told him you loved it. You’ve been sleeping in the small room ever since that day.

Often Kaz is still busy, running around the crow club doing god knows what, and you’re the first one to arrive back at his office. When you do, you always leave him a note on his desk, letting him know you’ve gone to bed already. Kaz then slowly opens the door to your room, whispers you goodnight, and heads to his own room. It was a nice routine you’d fallen into. A bit of calm in the chaos of Ketterdam.

Tonight isn’t any different.

You’re almost asleep, when you hear the door slowly opening.

In the dark, you can just make out Kaz’ shape in the doorway.

‘Goodnight.’ he whispers.

You smile. ‘Goodnight.’ you whisper back.

He closes the door again, and only seconds later, you fall asleep.

Kaz walks to his bathroom to take off his gloves and wash his face. It’s already dark outside, and normally he’d still sit at his desk to work. But he figured he could skip one night, and actually get some sleep.

Besides, if he didn’t, and you would find out the next morning, you’d make him take a nap anyway.

He changes into a pair of more comfortable clothes and lays down in his bed, pulling the covers up to his neck. Immediately, he feels his body getting heavier.

Maybe he should listen to you more often, and get enough sleep every night. It doesn’t take long for him to fall asleep.

Just as fast as he fell asleep, Kaz also wakes up.

He looks over at his bedside table, and notices it’s in the middle of the night. Kaz rolls over, ready to fall back asleep, when he hears a sound.

A piercing scream, sounding like someone is in pain.

But that’s not what makes him jump up, it’s the fact that it’s your voice that terrifies him.

In a second, he’s up, grabbing his cane in case he needs to hit someone, and he throws open the door of his room.

His office is empty, and you’re nowhere to be seen. But then he hears you screaming again. It’s coming from your small bedroom.

Instantly, he walks over to the door and roughly opens it. His cane is raised, in case there’s an attacker who made their way into the room.

But you’re the only one who’s there.

Your eyes are shut, a pained expression on your face. Somewhere during the night, you’d thrown your blanket off, and you’re clinging onto your pillow. You mumble incoherent words.

Kaz reaches out with his cane to nudge your leg, given that he’s not wearing his gloves. You stir slightly, but don’t wake up. He nudges you again, a little harder. This time, you do wake up.

You launch into a sitting position and Kaz instinctively takes a step back, creating some distance between you. For a few seconds, you look around with widened, frightened eyes, but once your eyes land on Kaz, you relax a bit.

‘Saints.’ you murmur as you press your hands against your face.

Kaz studies your face as you wipe cold sweat from your forehead.

‘Did I wake you?’ you softly ask him, avoiding his eyes.

His heart breaks at the sight of you, looking so vulnerable and shaken. The way your hair sticks to your neck and shoulders in a sticky, sweaty mess. There’s tears in the corners of your eyes.

‘Yes, but it’s alright.’ he says.

‘Sorry.’ you say. ‘It was just a nightmare. You can go back to sleep.’

But he doesn’t want to go back to sleep. Not now you’re so shaken, clearly in need of some comfort.

‘Are you okay?’ says Kaz.

‘I'm fine.’ you say.

‘Okay, so look me in the eyes when you say that.’ says Kaz. ‘So I know you’re not lying.’

You lift your gaze and look at him.

‘I'm fine.’ you say again, but Kaz shakes his head.

‘No, you’re not.’ he says. ‘Do you want to tell me about it?’

‘It’s a nightmare, Kaz. I'm not a child, I can handle it on my own.’ you say.

‘You screamed, Y/N.’ he says.

Your eyes widen at his words. ‘Fuck, really?’ you say. He nods. ‘That means they’re getting worse.’ you mumble, more to yourself than telling Kaz.

‘Come on.’ says Kaz, gesturing to his office behind his back. ‘Let’s get you out of this tiny room first.’

You hesitate, but follow him anyway.

‘Talk to me.’ says Kaz, as he sits down on the edge of his desk. He looks at you, waiting for you to talk.

‘They’re about you.’ you say softly.

Kaz’ features soften as he gestures for you to go on.

‘They’re about losing you. All of them.’ you mumble. ‘You’re hurt and I can never get to you in time. When I wake up, it usually helps when I get up and go see you in your room. It helps because I can see with my own eyes you’re alright, and it was just a dream.’

Kaz is silent as he looks at you. You wrap your arms around your body, feeling a bit uncomfortable. You’re an open book to Kaz, but admitting you have nightmares about losing him felt a bit too personal. Even for your taste.

‘I'm here now.’ says Kaz, looking at you. ‘I'm alright.’

You nod. ‘I know.’ you say. ‘I'll go back to sleep. And sorry again for waking you.’

You move walk back to your small room, but Kaz speaks up.

‘Y/N?’ he says, making you stop and turn around to face him. ‘Do you want to stay in my room for the rest of the night?’

‘No, that’s alright, you could barely fit in my small room.’ you say with a smile. ‘But I appreciate it.’

Kaz frowns slightly. ‘No, I mean, I'd stay in my room as well.’ he says.

‘Kaz, there’s a reason why we sleep in separate rooms.’ you tell him. ‘You know why. And this works for both of us.’

‘I know.’ says Kaz. ‘But you’re clearly still upset, you’re still visibly shaking. We could keep our distance, it’ll be alright.’

Still, you’re not convinced. ‘Are you sure?’ you say. ‘I don’t want you to do anything you’re not comfortable with for my sake. This is a huge step for you.’

‘I'm willing to try for you.’ says Kaz.

‘Alright.’ you say. ‘But you need to communicate with me, okay? If I'm doing something you’re not comfortable with, tell me. And if you want me to go back to my own room, that’s perfectly fine, you can just tell me.’

Kaz nods and walks to his room. You follow him, and are grateful his bed is much larger than yours. He sets his cane aside and lays down on the left side of the bed. You cross the room to the other side of the bed, and lay down.

It’s a bit awkward at first. There’s so much space between you, you almost fall off the bed on your side.

But then Kaz reaches out and hooks his pinky around yours.

It’s kind of like his way of hugging. You knew it would take years for him to be comfortable with touches like hugs, if he’d ever be comfortable with it in the first place.

Right now, you’re grateful for the feeling of his skin on yours, even if it’s the bare minimum, it’s comforting.

You close your eyes, focusing on the feeling of your intertwined fingers. Even if the nightmares got to you again, you knew Kaz would be alright. He’d be right there next to you.

You take a deep breath, mumble a ‘Thank you’ to Kaz, and fall back asleep.

A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rules Here’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit

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dumbass-mha-simp · 4 years ago

Text

Elliott x GN!Reader

Your New Playlist

Kinda sad? Ig angst but not actually like, bad angst yk.

1k words

Stardew Valley

Warnings: crying, mentally beating yourself over a crush, self-sacrificing but not in a death kinda way, cussing (I think like one f word), Elliott is a theater kid you can't convince me otherwise,

I wanna do a part two, would anyone be interested? I know how much us Elliott simps want fanfiction. I'm probably gonna start on it anyway lol.

Yes I actually made this playlist smh ikik, you don't have to listen to it ofc but his aesthetic really fits my music taste, at least I feel so. I write my fanfiction as gender neutral as I can but if you ever spot any mistakes I'd love to fix it!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Elliott's POV

My feet took me across the path leading to Leah's house. The gentle cotton clouds stretching their wisps across the blue sky, bright enough to blind me as though it were the sun that it surrounds. The gentle new Spring breeze froze my cheeks lightly as my eyes closed to avoid the same chill from the past winter.

Fresh Spring flowers and hidden vegetables encircled her yard as I made my way to knock against the dark wood door that always seemed thunderingly loud.

Leah peaked through the window by her door before I can see her face light up and reach for the door.

"Hey, c'mon in!" She opens the door wider to let me pass through. "How are you doing?"

"If I'm honest, a little troubled." I sigh looking forlornly to the floor.

"Come sit." Leah pulls me to her table and sits in the accompanying seat. "Tell me what you're thinking."

"Leah, what does it feel like to you before you admit you fancy someone?" I look up into her listening eyes before her face changes into slight shock.

"Hmmm." She brings her hand up to her chin as she ponders. "Well, you miss being around them when they're gone. You constantly find ways to connect anything back to them, like `oh they'd love this`, or `I should check up on them.` You care about their opinion more than others and you want to learn about them, even if it's the uninteresting things."

I slide my arms down onto the table, placing my head on top of them. That sounded exactly like what's happening. I had read about it a million times, falling gently in love with a close friend. Perhaps that interest to become friends was always attraction.

"I can't get enough of Y/N." I muffled through my folded arms sighing once again as I turned my head to finally look back up at Leah, the light stinging my eyes.

"Well maybe I could help you with getting more of them?" Leah smirked as she grabbed her phone from her pocket.

I lifted my head slightly panicked. "What are you doing?" I rushed out.

"Relax, I'm not telling Y/N. But they shared something with me. They have a wide music taste yes?"

I had heard some of their music. While they made us lunch, while they partake in their hobbies, when they hum near silently late at night on the beach. I nodded back thinking of how they never seemed to be signing along to a song similar to the others. Unpredictable, and absolutely captivating.

"Well one of their tastes in music is very folk-y and they mentioned how those songs reminded them of you. So they made a playlist of songs that remind themselves of you." Leah said looking down and scrolling through her phone.

They made a playlist about me. They actively want to remember and listen to things that remind themselves of me. I feel I might faint. Was this something that was common among friends? Was this nothing more than an act of kindness? Or something they decided to do on a whim?

"Here give me your phone I'll send it to you." She holds her hand out expectantly.

I quickly go to pull out the hardly used device. I had never had much use for it but if it could bring me any step closer to Y/N I wouldn't hesitate to learn.

Leah downloaded a music app, laughing at how I had no applications. Before leaving it opened on the playlist. "The Lonely, Ocean-Accompanied, Writer." It read. I reread it a couple times to convince myself it was real. A lovely name, but is that how they see me?

"Chill out, Romeo." Leah giggled. "I can practically see you overthinking everything. Just relax and listen to the songs, maybe they'll tell you something."

I wrapped my arms around her neck, hugging her closely before leaving to listen to the playlist.

~~~

As I shut the door behind me I pressed my back against it. I've never felt so scattered before. I looked for the volume button, turning it up before hitting play.

The songs, quiet but emotional. As though you had just lie down on the grass to cry or relieve tension or reminisce. They felt like a memory I had trouble recalling.

The songs seemed to renew me, before I heard one I distinctly remembered hearing before. From high-school theater club, a time in my life that was fond to me. I do remember Y/N telling me they loved musicals, hearing them hum along to Heathers while I wrote.

A song unlike most others on this list.

"When He Sees Me" from Waitress.

~~~

Y/N's POV

"Oh, Yoba. What if when he sees me, I like him and he knows it? What if he opens up a door, And I can't close it?" I belted out the lyrics as loud as I wanted, the tears streaming down my face unwavering.

The good side to owning your own farm is you could scream along to your songs without people to complain. You had been replaying this part of the song for awhile now. He was all you could seem to think about.

Your head was swarmed with thoughts of Elliott. Some where he reciprocated your feelings and others where he shut you out. Every time you built a daydream where he loved you unconditionally you trampled it with the thoughts of his rejection.

You brought your knees up to your chest, resting your head between them as you cried.

~~~

Elliott's POV

We had had conversations about musicals, perhaps that's why they chose this song? Maybe they thought since my school had a play of Waitress that it'd fit. But I know they liked other Waitress songs, why weren't those added? Only this one.

After that song came another, "I Hear A Symphony" one I've never heard. As the song started all I could see was Y/N. I could hear them singing along, their smile, their eyes averting to mine for the thousandth time.

Y/N was my symphony.

The powerful, breathtaking ocean couldn't compare to the awkward farmer that ran across town just to give me their best sweet pea flowers and be the first thing I saw as I left my quaint cabin.

They brought the motivation and inspiration for 8 hour writing sessions, they brought me food when they knew I'd forgotten to eat between writing the book and planning on what to write next.

They were something I could never dream of losing. I wished to live the rest of my life with their support.

If telling them my feelings means I'd lose them, then I couldn't dream of making such a selfish decision.

~~~

Y/N's POV

I trudged my way into town. After last night's crying session my eyes still felt a bit dry, if I'm honest I cried when I woke up as well. The loneliness felt suffocating in such a lonely little house. But I needed some new seeds. The stone path drawing all my attention as I walked.

As I walked into Pierre's it wasn't hard to tell that people could see something was off. After buying my seeds I felt a hand on my shoulder, turning around to find Elliott.

"Y/N are you feeling alright? You look as though you've been distressed lately." You motion to him to follow you and walks out of the store behind you.

You take a deep breath as you start to tear up a bit more. He reaches for your face as he lifts it up, looking at the pooling tears.

So many things, the things you could have said. But they didn't come up. Instead a vision of his face of discomfort at your confession. You couldn't bear it. You couldn't tell him.

"I've just been stressed. I'm sorry for worrying you, Elliott." You sigh, attempting to put up a fake smile as you wipe your eyes. He retracts his hand as he looks guilty. Fuck does he feel like it's his fault?

"Well I'm willing to listen to your troubles if you ever need." He also puts on a strained smile as you both part ways.

"This is for the best." They both whisper as they leave.

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rowanaelinn · 3 years ago

Text

Fire on Fire - chapter four

chapter three // chapter five

Aelin slammed her car door harder than necessary, sighing once she was comfortably sitting in her seat. She buckled her seatbelt and turned her head to the man sitting next to her in the passenger seat. "I'm not going to buckle your seatbelt for you, you're an adult, not a child."

Arobynn just chuckled and did it himself. “Always a delight to deal with you, darling.”

Aelin had to take a deep breath or she would snap. Getting mad at him wouldn’t work, it never did. It would just make him mad at her, and it wasn’t worth it. “Call someone else next time, then.” She said as she started driving. Aelin wished she had drunk a coffee before or taken anything that could help her stay awake. Arobynn lived one hour away from this bar, the night was going to be very long. “I forgot, you have no one else.”

“Be careful how you speak to me, Aelin.” His words were harsh even if they were slurred by the alcohol. Aelin hated the part of herself that was scared at his threat. So she didn’t answer, focused on the road, and put on some music to try to distract herself.

Aelin thought about last night, how bad her night of work was until she danced with Elide. Aelin had always loved to dance, she remembered all the times she forced her parents to sit for an hour so she could show them everything she learned that week at the dance studio.

When she turned eight, Aelin started doing dance competitions and she was good, very good, actually. She went to nationals twice, the first time she ended up in fourth place, not good enough. The second time she was in second place, it was better but still not good enough. Aelin Ashryver Galathynius was born with the need to be the best at everything she did, she didn’t understand why. Maybe it was because her parents had always been first in their own way and Aelin wanted to be like them.

After an injury at fifteen, she had to stop dancing. She still remembered crying in Aedion’s arms for an entire night. If Aelin thought about it, she would realize that’s the moment everything started to go downhill in her life. But she tried to avoid thinking about it, if she didn’t think about the problems, they didn’t exist.

“Why are you dressed like a whore, anyway?” Arobynn broke the silence and Aelin’s heart clenched. She hadn’t been hurt when Rowan made comments on her outfit because as much as she hated him, she knew he respected women and just wanted to hurt her. Arobynn never had an ounce of respect for women, he had proven it multiple times, that’s what made his comment horrible. “Not that I’m complaining in any way.” Aelin’s eyes left the road for two seconds to see him with a disgusting smile on his lips and his eyes fixed on her thighs. It took all her self-control not to vomit right there.

“I was working,” she simply said. She didn’t have to justify herself but Arobynn didn’t like to be ignored.

“You work at a strip club now?” He snorted. “Why do you even want to work? I told you I could pay for everything you need.”

He did, and it had been generous. Too generous from Arobynn to come without a price. “And I told you I could do it on my own.”

“Well, you don’t seem to earn a lot of money wherever you work since I’m still the one paying for your college tuition.” He said with a light tone but Aelin caught what he really meant. You’re only here thanks to me, be grateful.

“How many times do I have to thank you for it?” She asked with a sharp tone. Aelin had never been very good at staying calm. “I told you I would pay you back-”

“Bullshit,” he tapped his foot on the floor of the car, almost screaming. Unusual for him to lose his temper. When Arobynn was mad he favored hurting people with words. It was very rare for him to be physically violent. She jumped in spite of herself. “Do I look like I care about the money?” No, of course not. The money he used to pay for her college was like pocket money for a ten-year-old child, he didn’t see the difference in his bank account before and after paying for it. “I don’t understand why you want to work and live in a shitty apartment when you could be cared for and live in a manor.”

“ Your manor.” She said coldly.

“Yes, mine. How is that a problem?” He was angry, Aelin could see it at the way his hands clenched on his tights, the way his right leg kept fidgeting, or at the way he pronounced every word that came out of his mouth as if they were full of venom.

“You are my professor, Arobynn. I am your fucking student and not only this but I am also your teaching assistant. Do I really need to explain how wrong it is?”

“I am trying to take care of you, Aelin. I would expect you to be nicer.”

“Right now I am the one taking care of you!” She screamed, done with his bullshit. If someone had told Aelin five years ago that her favorite author was like this, she wouldn’t have believed them. “Even if I don’t want to.”

“I’m waiting for the day you crawl for my help, Aelin.”

She didn’t answer, instead, she kept her eyes on the road. She thought about her favorite books and how happy they made her. Maybe she would read one when she gets back home, it was too late to sleep anyway. Twenty minutes later, she parked her car right in front of his house. It was big, too big for a single man.

Aelin looked at her professor as he unbuckled his belt. “Have you graded the papers we gave you last month? Students will need them this week.” She asked but knew the answer. He just smirked at her and winked.

“You know me better than this, sweetheart.”

Aelin sighed and got out of her car, following Arobynn. He wasn’t walking straight and somewhere in the back of her mind she hoped he wouldn’t get hurt. Aelin knew Arobynn wasn’t a good man, he was a real piece of shit. But he had been there for her when she was at her worst, he didn’t do a lot but he had been there. He gave her opportunities she would never have had alone. And even if his interest in her was bad, he believed in her. He read every single one of her stories, gave her advice to become the best writer she could be. He let her access his contacts. If she ever made it on the best-seller list, it would be a little bit thanks to this man.

He opened his door and Aelin didn’t wait before going to his study, not caring about what he did. She quickly found the folder full of papers. She went through all of them and left hers and Lysandra’s on Arobynn’s desk. She couldn’t grade them, even if she wished she could grade Lysandra’s, but Arobynn didn’t want her to play favorites.

She turned but found Arobynn watching her at the entrance of the study. He had a glass of whiskey in his hand, of course, he would start drinking again the minute he got home. He walked towards her and she was struck by the size difference between the two of them. He pinned her with this lover’s gaze. She looked at the face she once found beautiful and swallowed. She wanted to move but couldn’t.

“What would I do without you, sweet Aelin?” He purred, letting one of his knuckles caress her cheek and before he could brush her lips she turned her head to the side. This gave him just more room to lean in and place a kiss on her cheekbone, his lips were soft and warm. Slowly, Aelin pulled back. “Tell me what I have to do for you to let me lay the world at your feet.”

Aelin said nothing as she walked away from him.

The moment Aelin entered her bathroom she fell on her knees and threw her guts up in the toilet. She could still feel Arobynn’s hand brushing her thigh in the car, could still feel his eyes on her or his hot breath on her ear.

When she closed her eyes she could remember the first time she saw these grey eyes four years ago and how different it felt to have them on her.

Aelin couldn’t hear the music over her friends’ laugh and her own.

When a waiter passed her she took the opportunity to take another glass of champagne and give him her empty glass. Her head was already spinning in the most delicious way.

"Ten bucks says he goes back with him tonight," Nehemia said, her eyes fixed on Aedion and the handsome blond man he was talking to. They were at a charity event, Aelin had agreed to accompany her parents only if she could bring her friends. Her three friends practically lived at home, so they agreed.

“Ten bucks?” Aelin asked as she took a sip of her drink. “How boring you are. Five hundred says they make out in a cupboard here.”

“You’re the only rich girl here, you know that?” Sam asked as he took her under his arm, forcing her head to rest on his chest. Aelin laughed loudly as she pushed him away, trying not to spill her drink on either of them.

“You are so loud, Aelin,” Lysandra complained but she wasn’t better. If anyone drank as much as Aelin did it was her best friend.

“I think our little Aelin,” Sam said, his voice full of fake seriousness, as he took her head in both hands, Aelin giggled at his fake frown. “Is slightly drunk.” Sam finished, and before Aelin could say anything he bent to kiss her. She lost herself in him, putting her arms around his neck. After a few seconds, they pulled apart but Aelin rested her head in his neck, breathing deeply in his lavender scent. She would kick his ass later for using her soap.

“Fireheart?” Aelin heard her mother call, she turned around but tripped on her long dress. Sam caught her before she could fall and the group of four friends exploded with laughter. They had all had a little too much to drink if they needed so little to laugh.

Aelin hid her glass behind her back, remembering that her parents had forbidden her to drink. They didn’t want their sixteen years old daughter to be seen doing inappropriate things. Sam took the glass discreetly and she knew he would get rid of it as soon as possible. Aelin's parents would never suspect Aelin's perfect boyfriend of helping her disobey her parents.

What her parents didn't know was that her three friends were her partners in crime, especially Sam.

“Aelin, honey.” Her mother said as she stopped in front of her. Sam’s hand rested quietly on her hip, a silent reminder that no matter how the conversation turned out, Aelin was not to get upset.

But Evalin was not alone. "My dear, I'm sure you know Mister Hamel?" She asked, knowing full well that Aelin knew him. She had dozens of copies of all his books all over her room, his writing was just amazing.

Aelin turned her head to admire her idol's face. He was handsome, for a thirty-seven years old man. If Aelin was honest, she had always had a thing for men older than her.

When her eyes met his gray ones, Aelin tensed. Absolutely everything about this man screamed power. From the way he stood to the little smile on his face as he held out his hand for Aelin to place hers in. His hand was warm but not soft, she could feel several scars. He placed a kiss on the back of her hand before saying softly, "It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Galathynius."

The memory of that night made her throw up a second time as she fought against tears. Everything about this memory was painful. She had worked so hard to keep these emotions locked inside of her for years, she couldn’t break now. Not after everything she did to forget.

“You got drunk?” A deep voice asked and Aelin whipped her head toward that voice only to find a shirtless Rowan, arms crossed, watching her from his doorframe. She didn’t secretly marvel at his muscles like she usually did whenever he was shirtless, tonight, another proof of how bad she was feeling. “Is that why you’re so late?” His voice was hard, the same voice he usually used whenever she was around.

“Were you worried?” She asked, sarcastically. She didn’t have the strength to fight now, and yet… She couldn’t help when he was around.

“Your cousin and best friend were worried sick. Are you so selfish that you don’t care?”

“I’ll talk about that with them, then. I don’t need you here.” Her voice was as hard as his, while she usually was more teasing. Aelin saw him frown at her tone but she didn’t give a shit, she needed to be left alone. “But if you want to know, I wasn’t getting drunk, no.”

“Then what were you doing?” He snapped and Aelin didn’t understand him. Why did he want to know that? Shouldn’t he have been happy she wasn’t here? Why did he even come into the bathroom? Aelin supposed he heard her throw up, it’s not like she was a very discreet person. Did he come here just to mock her? “What has put you in such a pathetic state?”

“Get the out,” her voice was weak, trying not to think about one of the worst nights of her life. You look pathetic , Arobynn had told her two years ago. But Aelin couldn’t help it, everything about that night disgusted her. When she looked up at Rowan she thought she saw concern in his eyes but she probably was hallucinating because a second later, his eyes were cold as ice.

He laughed, even if his laugh didn’t have any humor in it. “You know what, Aelin? Keep throwing up all you want. You’re worthless.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

There was a long pause and when Aelin thought he wouldn’t say anything else, he opened his mouth. “I understand why your parents cut you off. Who would want a disappointment like you as their daughter?”

“Don’t ever talk to me again.” She said silently, and when he closed the door, Aelin let the tears run down her face. For the first time in his life, Rowan hurt Aelin.

-----

taglist:

@sheharahu // @morganofthewildfire // @thestoriesyoutell // @fromthelibraryofemilyj // @swankii-art-teacher // @itsforeverinnocent-blog // @becarefuloflove // @imnotsogoodatthis // @rowaelinismyotp // @a-court-of-milkandhoney // @feysand-loml // @surielandiareendgame // @live-the-fangirl-life // @story-scribbler // @loves-books // @fangirlprincess09 // @theysayitscrazy

#rowan x aelin #rowaelin fanfiction #rowaelin #throne of glass fanfiction #fire on fire #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius

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awesomerextyphoon · 4 years ago

Text

Madripoor Musings

Summary: You’re undercover as Zemo’s Sugar Baby while you’re with the team in Madripoor. You seem to like the position a little too much and Sam gets jealous.

Parings: Sam Wilson x Black Female Reader, slight Zemo x Black Female Reader

Word Count: 1,685

Rating: 18+ / Explicit

Warnings: FATWS Spoilers, Smut, Oral (f receiving), Light Choking, Angst, Semi-Public Smut, Daddy Kink, and Slight Emotional Manipulation

A/N: Ran into another writer’s block so I’m using prompts from this list to get myself out of it. Enjoy!

Back to Masterlist

“So, are we good to go, everyone?”

The four of you were jet-setting in Zemo’s private plane to Madripoor to get info on this new version of super solider serums. Zemo came up with the idea of having Sam go undercover as the West African weapons dealer/smuggler, Smiling Tiger. Bucky returned to his ‘Winter Soldier’ mode and you were to become ‘Miss Erina’, Zemo’s new arm candy/Sugar Baby.

Your backstory was simple: you’ve been with Zemo since before he went to prison living in his many estates and luxurious apartments.

It took some time for everyone to get into character. Sam tried and failed to pull off a Nigerian accent while Bucky kept up his hard glare and glower routine. You and Zemo put on the perfect couple facade with the both of you placing semi-sensual touches on each other’s bodies and showering each other with (sometimes lewd) compliments.

“Oh, thank you for the necklace, Daddy!” you gushed loving the way Sam was fuming. Bucky almost broke his character trying not to snicker.

“Nothing’s too much for you, котёнок/kotyonok (kitten).” Zemo mused as he offered you a coy smirk and leaned in for a kiss.

You giggled as he placed kisses along your jawline, neck, and collarbone.

“We’ll continue this later, киса,” Zemo whispered while winking at Sam.

––––

Madripoor was amazing, to say the least. It was a cyberpunk wet dream with bright lights at various angles and two distinct levels giving off a Black Lagoon/Blade Runner/Ghost in Shell vibe.

It felt like your kind of town.

It’s been like this since the Snap. Your older sister died in a car crash right after Thanos’ victory. Your father and uncle were blipped into the ocean dying instantly. Nowadays, your mother could barely talk to you without crying.

Natasha was dead and Steve fucked off to the 1940s to crush English pussy. Sharon got branded an enemy of the US Government and was forced to run. Some dumbass cracker (you will NEVER acknowledge his name) was given Sam’s rightful shield and mantle of Captain America by the craven, racist US government and had the NERVE to tell you to stay out of his way.

To top it all off, you found out that the US military tortured a man for 30 YEARS in order to ‘make the perfect soldier’.

You were finally in a place that matched how you felt.

“We’re heading into Low Town. Be on your guard, everyone.” Zemo warned as he lifted your chin and kissed you again. He insisted on walking towards your escort.

“Why do I have to wear this again? I look like a pimp!” Sam whined while looking sexy AF in his Ankara (I’m saying it’s Ankara) suit.

“Don’t mind him, Daddy. Sam has no sense of style.” You joked snuggling closer to Zemo.

“We’re not at the club yet.” Sam pointed out, vexed at the way you were clinging onto Zemo.

“We cannot let our guard down, Wilson. Selby has eyes everywhere.”

Sam relented and tried not to look your way. It was tempting due to you wearing an amazing Burgundy Fashion Nova Sugar Free Mini Dress with Black Bow Whoa Pumps. Your curves were out, but not in a shameless manner.

You had class, yet you were a tease.

––––

The ride to Selby’s was nothing short of thrilling.

You were right about the overall aesthetic. Madripoor definitely has the ‘dystopian punk’ feel on lock.

“You look radiant, котёнок.” Zemo cooed as you kissed his neck liking how smiled at Sam and inwardly cackled at Sam’s glower.

–––––

Several men and some women moved to make a pass at you on the way to the club. A few audacious men learned that you were Zemo’s the hard way, Bucky made sure of it.

You had to mask your displeasure at how many people were shooting appreciative glances at Sam.

You just hoped this escapade would end soon.

––––––

Zemo advised everyone to aim straight for the bar wrapping his arm around your waist as he strode into the club. Sam and Bucky followed suit slipping into their Apex and Winter modes respectively.

The bartender licked his lips as he looked you over, “Thought Selby told ya you ain’t welcomed here, Zemo.”

Zemo raised an eyebrow, “I know, but this is important,” he eyed several bouncers making their way towards your group. Their moves did not faze the baron. He simply turned to Bucky and whispered in his ear.

It didn’t take long for Bucky to let loose. You could’ve sworn a couple of people were ready to shit themselves.

–––––

Selby was...interesting. She/They gave off a pretentious ‘I’m always ten steps ahead’ aura with a bit of fake whimsy. She/They wanted to give you to one of her best clients and keep Bucky for herself/themselves (probably for sexual reasons, didn’t want to pry).

The conversation was going well...until Sam’s phone went off.

Insert facepalm.

You’ve told him time and time again to put his phone on silent and get rid of vibrate. Now he was gonna get y’all killed, but you said,” Fuck it!” and shot her/them and the #2.

The group had to book it and you cursed yourself for wearing non-running heels.

_____

Your asses were saved by a guardian sniper, Sharon. You were glad to see her again missing your bi-weekly movie nights and sporadic weekend brunches.

“It’s good to see you, Sharon.” You greeted as you hugged Sharon at the entrance of her High Town pad.

“It’s great to see you, too, even after you’ve destroyed my work.” Sharon lowered her voice while pressing her lips together in frustration and then lust at the sight of Sam’s deliciously thicc upper body.

You couldn’t blame her as you wanted to run your hands and tongue along his planes of muscle.

You listened in on the group’s conversation as you changed clothes seeing Sam’s distress at Sharon and Zemo’s words. They did have a point about how being a hero does ring hollow, but it still hurt to see Sam’s sadness and hurt.

––––––

You found Zemo, bless his heart, dancing like a lost dad on the dance floor and started grinding against him while shooting Sam a sexy pout accentuating your sensually full lips.

Sam, for his part, was trying to look interested talking to a waitress with killer legs. He almost lost it when he put his arms around your waist.

“Let’s see if we can get a reaction out of him,” you whispered wrapping your arms around his neck. He knew that Sam hasn’t been giving it lately.

��–––––

Your little stunt lasted for about ten minutes before Sam stomped over grabbing your arm and dragging you into one of Sharon’s ‘private rooms’ after another man got too close to what was his.

“Why did you drag me away like that?!” you shouted secretly turned on by the raging fire in his eyes.

“So you like calling your men ‘Daddy’?” Sam demanded as he backed you into the wall.

“I’m your ‘daddy’ now, vixen.” Sam breathed while lightly dragging his finger up your thighs only to find no panties.

“No panties, huh?” he smirked as he twirled his forefinger around your clit causing you to moan.

“Fuck, I love hearing you moan. Say my name, vixen. Don’t care if Sharon finds out.” Sam murmured against your lips. He effortlessly lifted you in such a way to make you wonder if he got some SS serum. It didn’t hurt that you got to see his muscles bulge underneath his turtleneck as he landed your blessed backside onto one of the tables.

“Eyes on me, kitten,” Sam ordered as he forced open your legs and made his way your slit leaving open-mouthed kisses and love bites in his wake. “You're already soaking for me, baby.” he mused as he gave your slit a long lick.

You could barely keep yourself from moaning.

“Who's your daddy, baby?”

“You are!”

“I’m your ONLY daddy!” Sam shouted and dove in.

You were drowning in ecstasy.

Sam was hitting all the right notes with your pussy. He was always a G at eating you out. Sam swatted your hand away from your mouth, “I want everyone to know who your real daddy is,!”

He kept you on edge for nine excruciating minutes before he finally let you orgasm.

“No time for rest, vixen.” Sam chided as he flipped you on the table ass up with your dress bunched up around your chest,” Are you a good little vixen?” Sam breathed in your ear as he placed kisses along your ear, neck, and collarbone.

“Yes, daddy.”

“You’re damn right I am!” He sheaved himself into you in one swift motion. You moaned in delight at the sensation. He didn’t move no matter how much you begged him, “Tell the world who your daddy is,” he instructed as he slapped your plump ass.

You screamed out his name and Sam started thrusting. He gently wrapped his hand around your neck while demanding you to shout his name. Sam pounded into you at a relentless pace constantly hitting your ‘Cum Dizzy Sector’ turning you into a delightfully orgasmic mess.

Sam was reaching his limit so he played with your clit to make you finish first. You came with what felt like an earth-shattering orgasm with Sam coming with a primal roar not too long afterward.

Both of you were so wrapped up in orgasmic bliss that you didn’t notice Sharon, Zemo, Bucky, and a few other partygoers at the door.

“So, how did go?” Sharon teased as you tried to cover yourself up.

“How much did you see?”

“Hmm,” Sharon hummed while tapping her chin, “Enough for me to close a $19.8M art deal.”

“We’re getting a 10% cut.” Sam barked annoyed with the rest of the group reigning in on his smash time.

“Fine. Get dressed, I got a lead.” Sharon announced while smirking all the way to her quarters.

You smirked at Zemo as you made your way to the exit.

Worth it.

#sam wilson #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson x black!reader #sam wilson imagine #fatws #fatws spoilers #mcu #mcu fanfiction #avengers imagine #marvel fanfiction #mcu smut #smut #baron zemo #baron zemo x reader #sam wilson x female reader #sharon carter #madripoor musings #madripoor

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comm-caribou · 3 years ago

Note

1,16,19 for the writing ask :)

1. What font do you write in? Do you actually care or is that just the default setting? When I’m writing on my phone in the notes app, it’s the default. When I’m writing on my computer in Microsoft, it’s Times New Roman, size 12 font, and double space. I typically write more on my phone though because notes doesn’t keep track of word count or pages so it’s always a surprise when I do transfer the final project to Microsoft.

16. What’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever used as a bookmark? Answered this one here.

19. Tell me a story about your writing journey. When did you start? Why did you start? Were there bumps along the way? Where are you now and where are you going? Okay, let’s see…

Ever since I was little, I had stories. I told them in the games I played, the toys I owned, and even talking a dental hygienist’s ear off as they cleaned my teeth. My mother was the reason for both my storytelling and my writing, because every night she’d read bedtime stories with the voices and all.

Soon, I was writing books on construction paper and drawing picture books in notebooks about my two teddy bears going adventures, and because I was so creative with names their names were Bear-Bear and Little Bear-Bear. Notebooks became the obvious gift to give, because everywhere I went I was writing stories in notebooks about everything that came to mind. I excelled in English, writing stories and essays was easy and even kids who were mean to me wanted me to help them in group projects.

Regrettably all my notebooks got lost, but one day in sophomore year, I began writing again in a big fancy notebook a Transformers fan fiction, and my English teacher—who always saw me writing—encouraged me to sign up for the school’s writing contest. I did, and with all these other entries and it only being my first contest, I won third and got recommended to sign up for the writing class. In that half year course, I learned poetry, creative essays, script writing, and the tools to improve.

My writing got better, and while I still only won third in contest, I got awards for my contribution in writing club. I wanted to go to an art school for a creative writing degree, but that didn’t happen.

Everyone in my family has a stable job, a typical 9 to 5 has health insurance kind of job. Writers don’t typically have that in their eyes, but if I wanted to apply I could, but everyone was pushing for English teacher. My guidance counselor looked at my schools and before I could say “wait!” deleted the art school off the list of colleges; she also didn’t help when I accidentally early accepted to a school I didn’t want to go to.

From the moment I entered that college I didn’t want to be in, my writing dwindled. I wasn’t happy and my spark was a dying ember until I was flunking out of college that I screamed “I don’t want to be a teacher!”

My parents let me apply to this art school I wanted to go to, but because my grades were so low they didn’t accept me until I got them up. I did fantastic in writing and arts, but math and history I was dying. I focused on my writing blog, writing headcanons between classes to the point I was writing up to twenty-five asks a day and burning out to keep up with the flood of requests.

After struggling with these required academics and an unhealthy need to be validated by strangers on the internet, I dropped out just before the pandemic began.

Now it’s over two years later, I got two part-time jobs that suck, no degree, and no clue what I’m doing with my life. However, I write what I want to write now, and I’ve never been more happy to share my stories; even if it is only five people reading them, it’s enough.

#caribou speaks

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noodledesk · 4 years ago

Photo

truly what better place 2 be than reading a book

hello everyone this summer reading changed my life so i thought i’d share some ways i changed my approach to reading that enriched my life a lot:

read more & read widely: reading is funny in that the more you read, the more you will be able to discern what you love & what is good in your eyes. as a result you will start to be more amazed by the ways people put words on paper. suddenly every book becomes a marvel in its own way. also you will become a better writer as an automatic side effect. what’s not to like

join a book club: i started a very small book club early this year and since then it has grown a lot! now it has become a great source of fun! you get to read lots of books that you wouldn’t normally and having a go-to group of ppl to scream to about whatever books you are reading is so nice to have

read several book at once: i am notorious for getting bored easily, so when i find myself skimming i just switch to a different book. at any given time i’ll have 15+ books going so i can have the perfect book for the perfect mood. that way i can avoid reading slumps before they happen. also this extends to things beyond books. sometimes i will read some comics or listen to them instead

get a devoted reading device: after i got a kindle i have just loved using it so much! there’s nothing to distract me and it’s designed with a more pleasant reading experience in mind. that being said putting ur phone on airplane mode and curling up in bed is just as valid and good

silence: i read much better when i don’t have music on and it helps me to focus on what i’m reading

align reason with method: what are you reading for? pleasure? to learn? hopefully a mix of both? we have many different reasons to read. make sure the way you’re reading works with the thing you’re trying to read. sometimes you will be better off with summaries. classics and old poetry, i find, i have to read really slowly to get the good stuff out of it. and we all know that wonderful feeling of not being able to stop tearing through a book. align ur reason with ur method!

track it: tracking my books just keeps me organized and lets me pick what books i want to read next all in one spot. also i get a dopamine rush when i finish a book. unfortunately i am also a goodreads user because they have such a huge existing database, but i have used storygraph beta and it is wonderful

clock in: you don’t need to read many many books or be a super speed reader to read widely. having a reading habit is the most important thing of all! every night i like to dedicate at least 30 minutes to reading so i can unwind and finish my day in the best of ways

and that’s it! happy reading :)

#art #comic #comics #books #drawing #graphic design #reading #tips #productivity #inspo #studyspo #studying #mine #tbhstudying #studylustre #lookstudyblr #heysareena

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seraphimguks · 4 years ago

Text

roses, poetry and jeon.

☾ pairing: bookstore employee!jungkook x reader

★ summary: Between the pieces of sappy poetry and dried rose petals hidden in every book you buy from the local bookstore; you fall in love with the anonymously enigmatic writer.

➳ genre: bookstore au, enemies to lovers-ish?, fluff, slight angst

☂ words: 12k

♡ a/n: hellooo! So, after countless days and nights working on this, I’m VERY proud as to how it came out to be. I don’t have any experience as a bookstore employee so please forgive me if I made some mistakes! Also, all the poetry compositions have been written by yours truly hehe. I really hope you guys enjoy this story as much I enjoyed writing it! Let me know how you felt (reblogs and comments go a long way!) c:

~*~

The sunlight filtering through your window was a familiar feeling. As it warmed your covers, you lazily turned to the other side of your bed hoping to find a cooler spot to resume your slumber. When not even cocooning yourself helped, you angrily pulled your blanket over your frame and let the heat take the win for this one.

You opened your eyes and took a minute to take in your surroundings. You felt like your party-hungry college student-self waking up one morning on someone else’s bathroom floor that wasn’t yours. In that reverie, you winced as you could almost taste the vodka at the back of your throat and the puke roiling up in your stomach.

A half open book lay face down on your nightstand and dried up drool pooled near the top of your pillow, possibly because you dozed off in between. You checked your phone, and was relieved that it was the weekend. There were no messages from work, you wanted to jump up in joy like you were a child on sugar rush.

Your job as a market assistant was good, and although you enjoyed the work, sometimes it felt dry and you lost all enthusiasm to continue. Your boss was an asshole, you really wanted to smack him. Your colleagues were no less either, but in all speaking you didn’t want to change your job yet because it paid well to give you a good apartment room and four-square meals a day.

Even thinking about work made you upset. You hugged your knees to your chest, resting your head on them because you were just too tired. Deep down in your conscious, you knew you couldn’t pursue your true passion for financial reasons and because it was just a dying profession.

Thoughts aside, you decided to treat yourself to the weekend by going to the bookstore just around your block. You loved bookstores, it was your favourite retreat growing up when your father would come and pick out the books you wanted to borrow. You were a very avid reader as a child, however as the homework started piling up as you went up a grade, there was no time to wiggle some reading time in between the cracks of your heavy schedule. Until now.

The bookstore opened five years ago, a cozy place that usually met a lukewarm crowd on weekends. You were a regular there. The owner, Kim Namjoon, was few years elder to you but was polite, handsome and very well read despite having a demanding position at his accounting job. Namjoon had opened the bookstore as a part-time thing to stay rooted to his love for literature, and since his profession earned well, he was able to recruit two or three employees to help him out when he was at work.

Ji Changmin was the cutest employee there, and honestly you couldn’t deny that part of the reason why you headed up to the cozy establishment was to see him. He had an ebullient disposition with lovely dimples that you couldn’t help but think was cute. He always greeted new customers with a wide smile and you stifled a laugh when you remembered his extremely loud shriek when one of the customers accidentally dropped a book. The poor boy almost fell from the ladder when he was trying to sort out the books on the highest shelf.

He was a dance major at the nearby University and his shifts were on the weekends, the two days when he was free. He often came to the store disheveled from practicing on his own, but he still managed to clean up and look flawless in a simple apron uniform.

You also knew that the first weekend of the new month meant fresh arrivals – so not only were you going to see your favourite employee (you would never tell Changmin, of course) and get some eye-candy, but also browse through the new novels waiting to be read by fellow bookworms like yourself. Maybe even eye Changmin over the top of the pages you read, and knowing him long enough he would probably be practicing few steps of his dance routine, and oh didn’t he look sexy.

And with that said, you were ready in flat 15 minutes.

~*~

The conundrum of living in cities was known to you – the whizz of scooters going by in the morning, the delightful screams of school children returning from class in the afternoon and the shutters of karaoke bars and clubs opening up for the evening.

That’s why you were so relieved that the apartment you were housing in was located in a sleepy neighbourhood, where the hustle-bustle was less pronounced. It was also near a subway that took you effortlessly to work. The street which you lived in mostly had all the necessities you could ask for, from grocery markets, a hospital, small cafes, retail stores, and of course, a medium-sized bookstore.

Fact and Fiction Bookstore was a store squeezed in between a medical shop and an apartment, just a couple of blocks from your place. It always had a wooden signboard that had “Open” and “Closed” in hand drawn letters and the interiors were festooned with decorative pendant lamps that lit the room in a golden halo. Walnut coloured, skyscraper height bookshelves lined the walls in even spaces, from classics to children’s books to study materials. There were few wooden stools scattered hither and tither and a small cash register at the extreme center, that led to the store room in the back. Overall, the shop had a modern yet minimalistic look that was to your liking.

As you walked inside of Fact and Fiction, you heard the familiar bell chime as you pushed open the doors. You made it just in time, and of course there were no customers there. You smiled a bit, knowing that Changmin might just be around and you could have some quality time with him for a bit. But instead of seeing Changmin usually wiping the bookshelves carefully, you were surprised to see Namjoon in his place.

“Oh Y/N! So nice to see you this morning,” Namjoon smiled, walking up to you. Namjoon never came on weekends, and if he did, it was when one of the employees were unable to work anymore. But that was very rare. Could that mean-

“Hey Namjoon,” You said, trying to mask the slight disappointment. “I thought you didn’t come on weekends?”

“I don’t, but now I guess I have to,” He laughed, returning to clean the bookshelves at the far right of the room.

“Why, what happened to Changmin?” You faked playing it cool by taking a book off the Bestseller’s shelf.

“He had to leave, he got scouted by an entertainment agency couple days ago. He’s going to be a trainee,” Namjoon shouted from the opposite side of the room.

As much as your heart felt like it fell from the sky, that you were no longer going to be ogling over the button eyed boy now, you felt a surge of happiness at Changmin finally achieving his lifelong dream to be an idol. It would take some years, but seeing him on the big screen – possibly even cuter – made your heart flutter. Of course, Namjoon was handsome too, so you didn’t mind stealing glances at him now that you no other choice.

“So, what are you going to do, now that he’s gone?” You asked. Surely the other two employees would be a replacement, you thought.

“I already hired a new employee; he’s going to be in charge in weekends now,” Namjoon wiped his hands on the cloth and disappeared into the storeroom.”

You silently nodded to yourself. It was silence now, just you and the books. Evidently you moved to the New Arrivals section, picking an interesting book cover and started reading the first chapter.

As soon as you ensconced in the setting, you heard the door open with the low chatter of what you assumed were female college students.

You heard footsteps. Someone from the other end of the store, presumably the new employee, greeted them in the conventional fashion bookstore employees usually do.

"What may I help you ladies with?"

The hair on the back of your neck stood. Your ears perked up out of its own volition. The vibrations in your heart quickened. Your knees suddenly felt weak, goosebumps erupting on every inch of your skin. You felt the air shifting, as if the coffee toned floorboard beneath you was angled and moved on its own accord.

You've heard that voice before. No, you knew that voice. You started to panic, leaving the book you were reading on the wrong shelf and scurrying past the aisles to the center of the room, where the voice seemingly came from.

You tried to recall where and whom the voice belonged to. The vestiges of your brain that locked out certain memories of your high school unlocked. Your mind worked like a tape recorder left on fast forward. If what you thought was right, it seemed as if that voice belonged to a certain five foot something, a mean, nitpicking, lanky teenager that went by the name –

Jeon Jungkook.

Your eyes widened immediately. The second you laid eyes on your high school enemy, your legs went cold. You stood there gawking at the boy – now a man – and couldn't for a second fathom why, in all places, he just had to work here in the same neighborhood you lived in. For a second you were cursing Namjoon, but honestly how could that innocent and charming aficionado, unalike Jungkook, know who your high school nemesis was?

Jungkook too, seemed flustered by your appearance, hand straight away behind his neck as he looked at you sheepishly. He aged well, you thought for a moment. He was no longer the gangly teenager that he was; he was bulky, with budding muscles on his arms if you strained your eyes just a bit. He grew out of his ridiculous mushroom haircut, settling for a fringe that slightly kissed the top of his eyes. He grew taller, no doubt, and this time he grew into his features, a square face with a visible jawline that could, quite literally cut glass.

Your history with Jungkook was clear as day. You guys were classmates in high school for four years. The then 15-year-old used to tease you every chance he got. He used to make fun of what you wore, the pieces of writing you wrote and why you always received the highest scores in literature class. Even when he asked for your help in getting better scores in English, he would always speak with a hint of sarcasm and impatience. You left high school cursing him through and through, but was happy you'd never get to see or run into him ever again. Until today.

"Hi Y/N," he said.

"Jungkook," you took a step forward, crossing your arms. This was habit you did as a form of defensive mechanism. Sure, whatever teenage Jungkook said to you during your high school years were long past, but it did put a dent in your self-esteem even if a bit. Maybe your teenage self still feels that the grown up Jungkook would once again sputter mean words to you even though high school was a good while back. “Been long.”

"Yeah, you're right. It's so good to see you again, I mean, I never expected," his voice soft, kind. Of all things, this was the most surprising. You tried to forget how shockingly attractive he turned out to be.

"Ditto," You said, unsure of what else to say. You looked down at your shoes, circling one foot around the other. "So how do you know Namjoon?"

"Oh, Hyung and I go way back. He used to tutor me in high school. Maths, geography, literature, you name it. I owe it to him, for making me pass. I heard he was looking for work so I decided to step in."

Oh, so that's why. The pieces were falling in place now. It did feel nice to catch up with an old high school ‘acquaintance’ of sorts, so you kept aside the qualms of your bullying experiences aside.

"Hey, now that you're here, I never got to say that I'm sorry for all the trouble I caused you in high school. I was dumb, stupid really, I mean, dumb and stupid are the same thing, but what I mean is-"

"It's okay, Jungkook. I'm long past it, to be honest. You're forgiven." You manage a small smile, your insides warming with his thoughtfulness. What was even sweet was that he appeared a bit nervous, even though the line seemed rehearsed - it made you think as if he'd been saying this apology to himself so many times as if he would meet you again one day and say it.

Now that the mood was lighter, few more customers began pouring in. You let Jungkook continue with his work even though you wanted to know details about his life now. You resumed reading the book, considered even making this the first purchase in a long time, before Jungkook waddled up to you suggesting that he was free to talk.

"So," Jungkook began slowly, leaning over the wall opposite the bookshelf. “You live here?

“Just a couple of blocks from here. What about you?”

“Oh no, I took the subway here. It’s bit far from my boxing center at home,” he smiles, bowing at new customers who already seemed to know what to look for. You noticed when he smiled that the one thing that didn’t change about Jungkook was his doe eyes. God, they were so misleading to anyone else who didn’t know him well.

And wow, that explained the muscles. Jeon Jungkook having his own boxing center? You pegged Jungkook as being unemployed after high school because if you recall correctly, his grades were dismal. But you can’t judge a book by its cover, right?

“Wow, boxing center huh? How’s that going?” You kind of feigned interest, nodding your head more than usual whereas you just wanted to read.

“Great actually. I took business in college, and it really got me thinking. So, I pulled some strings and opened a center, that way I could practice and so can everyone else. It’s going pretty good,” he nodded satisfyingly.

You give him a sad smile. He was doing something he liked. You were too, but not exactly.

“So, do you still write poetry?” He asks, knowing he’d been talking too much about himself.

Ah, that was your sour spot. Your true passion. Writing poetry. Those years in high school you realized nothing gave you true happiness than what the joy of words did. You never wanted to make a career out of anything if it didn’t happen to include writing. However, prospects in becoming a writer were perilously low and by the time you finished your first year in college, you realized you had a take different direction if you wanted to lead a financially stable life to pay off your loans.

“Oh, that.” You shrugged, another one of your defense mechanisms. Jungkook’s eyebrow lifted questioningly. You weren’t one to call poetry as ‘that’.

“Well, I learnt poetry can get you far enough as someone with a dying YouTube career, sadly as it is. It's a beautiful profession, but I needed to make ends meet. So currently I'm working as assistant marketing manager at this company an hour away.” You tried to seem as content as possible.

“How is it?” Jungkook now had to go and take to some customers but he was still listening to you.

“It's great!”

It's fucking tedious. Sometimes I want to scream, tear some papers and run around like a maniac.

“I love my boss and my teammates.”

My boss is a sexist, misogynistic prick and my teammates love to kiss his ass.

“There are days when I don't even think about poetry.”

I think about it every single second that I'm at work. I can’t even write cause I’m so packed with stuff to do.

Jungkook laughs as he aligns some books in the correct angles. "You were a good student in high school. With those grades, getting that job must have been piece of cake for you. Although, it must suck not to write because of your work.”

You’re telling me.

The book you were previously reading wasn’t that interesting as you thought. You moved over to the Poetry section, skimming your fingers over the covers of books. You saw a familiar title and took it out. It was the same book of poems that your school had given as part of your Literature syllabus. This book made you fall in love with words and what they mean. You looked inside and to your relief, it had all the poems of love, tragedy and loss that you came to love when you studied them meticulously when you were still a student.

Your favourite poems were I Dream of You by Christina Rossetti and Rooms by Charlotte Mew. You longed for a romance like the ones they described in stanzas, but only seldom in your life did you come across someone who shared the love of sappy poetry like you did.

“Rooms, huh? I love that poem,” Your head sharply whipped towards Jungkook’s direction, who was now curiously studying the book you had in hand.

Jungkook, liking poetry? The same lad who made fun of all the writers for being over-dramatic over love, was now saying he liked poetry?

“Surprising, I know. But like, if anyone found out the guy on the football team shared a secret love for prose and poetry, I would’ve been thrown out,” He shrugs lightly. You understood, your school solely ran on conservative values of toxic masculinity and favouritism. You managed to survive all of that, thankfully.

You and Jungkook then engaged in a discussion on the best poems and writing you guys read, surprised at his wide knowledge and the opinions he had to share. You agreed on many, disagreed with a few. But one thing you realized was that maybe meeting Jungkook wasn’t such a bad thing at all, you guys could finally be friends.

You decided to buy your book of poems. You haven’t seen this book in ages and it would be nice to add to your collection anyway.

As you handed over the book to Jungkook to check out, your hands touched only slightly. Jungkook gave you a small, shy smile, and you returned it. Right before he was going to give you the bill, his hands awkwardly hovered over the register for a moment.

“Wait,” he quickly remembered. “I have to put a stamp inside of this. It’s a way of checking what books are purchased. Work regulations. Give me a sec?”

You nodded and he disappeared into the store room for a good 10 minutes. You waited as you looked around the store for the nth time and wondering when you’d be back again. Jungkook suddenly returned, looking a little sweaty even though the air-conditioner was still on. He wiped his sweat using a towel next to the register and handed over the book to you with both hands.

You smiled at your purchase, tucking it in your bag and respectfully bowing to Jungkook before you decided to make your leave. As soon as you turned your heel towards the door, Jungkook awkwardly extended a hand to you.

“So, what do you say, friends?” His eyes were looking down, to hide his embarrassment. You thought it was cute. You extended your hand too.

“Friends.”

~*~

The sky had enveloped the sun the same way it always did during sundown. You settled comfortably in your duvet, taking out the book inside the paper bag that had the initials F.F. printed in large colourful letters. You placed the book gingerly between your legs as you scanned the hard cover.

You inhaled the pages, the smell settling somewhere in your bones. Then you began reading. It was sunset when you started and then midnight when you got to the middle. You held back a yawn as you decided to call it a day and then get to work from tomorrow. You were putting a bookmark inside the page you stopped at when something like a scrap of paper fell out of the book.

Carefully, you kept your book on the night stand and picked up the fragment and turned it over.

The paper looked as if it were torn from a notebook. What looked like a poem was written in the childish scrawl of a 10-year old, but it didn’t seem reasonable that a child would write something with such thought and maturity.

Thousands of libraries will never exhaust

How you wander in the loveliest recesses of my thoughts,

An angel fallen from heaven,

Am I merely just a spectre in your presence?

Your fingers possess secrets in every page that you write

But how would it feel my dear,

if the hands that touched your skin, were I?

Books may command your attention

But I mean no harm,

But beyond the classroom walls, here is my confession

That it fatigues me that to remain a boy who will love you from afar.

You stared at the paper for a while.

The poem was no doubt very beautiful, suggestive even. Unrequited love always made the best poems, you knew. You imagined a love-struck young boy penning down this very poem for his classmate in the back of his Algebra book, thinking it would never be seen by anyone else except him. What you loved most was that in each verse, the writer made his best effort to form an analogy between his lover’s passion for books and his passion for her. And to top it all, you and this girl shared your love for books.

But how did such a sensitive piece of writing wind up in your poetry book?

The paper didn’t match the quality of the paper of your recent buy, obviously. Namjoon was also not one to keep second-hand or used books in his store either. Was someone else reading the book and somehow slipped this inside? But the writing seemed very personal and it would be irresponsible for someone to misplace something like this.

You shrugged it off later, safely keeping the piece in one of your night stand drawers. Just when you were about to place your treasured book of poems in your book case, rose petals from the book fell to the floor.

Gasping, you picked the bunch in your hands, the petals bearing an angry crimson shade. Roses were your favourite flower, so you couldn’t but smell the petals that lay within your reach.

But if anything, it only multiplied the questions in your head as to how, when and why both the love poem and the petals were in the book in the first place.

~*~

You forgot about the poem and the rose petals until you found yourself going back to Fact and Fiction the next week. Surprisingly, work load was less but you didn’t want to be one to ask why.

It was a sunny afternoon. You got the news that a sequel to one of your favourite series released few days ago. You were sure that Namjoon would keep a neat pile of the sequel somewhere in his bookstore.

Jungkook was already at the register handing a customer his receipt when he noticed you entering through the glass door. He gave a small wave as you scuttered to the New Arrival’s section. Anxiously, you browsed through the section until you finally saw the familiar title.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you muttered, the pads of your fingertips feeling the glossy hardcover. You had only turned to the front page when a dark-haired someone appeared by your side.

“Seriously, The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes? Heard it didn’t get good reviews,” Jungkook smirks at you.

“Didn’t get good reviews my ass,” you mock him, going back to reading. The boy shakes his head and lets you read as he helps a customer find a certain book. More customers started to pour in, and soon Jungkook is up and running across the store every five minutes. You felt sorry for him, but then you realised with all his working out, running across a five thousand feet store was practically nothing.

It was just you in the store when it was evening. Jungkook leaned on the wall, resting his head on the counter in respite. You smiled dejectedly at him, wanting to say something to light the mood.

“So, how is Taehyung and Jimin? We couldn’t really catch up properly,” you said, sitting on one of the tools.

Jungkook sighed, almost happy that he could have one conversation today that wasn’t about foraging book titles of books ceased producing copies anymore.

“Jimin is good,” he said, wiping his sweat with the back of his hand. “He’s working at this law firm in Australia. Taehyung is pursuing his Master’s in Europe, something in cultural studies.’

“Wow,” the jealously in your voice was slightly apparent. You did work at a well-known company, but still, working abroad was a different league altogether.

“Gosh, can you believe how messed up we three were? Always fooling around, teachers said we wouldn’t amount to anything,” Jungkook reminisced, leaning his elbows on the counter now.

“I remember,” you laughed. “Especially when Taehyung pranked Mr. Choi with that whoopie cushion and Mrs. Kang when you drew her face on the board one day.”

“I think even Mrs. Kang laughed at that drawing herself, it was pretty impressive,” he smirks, lips breaking into a cocky grin. “

“And I think everyone remembers how you made Hae-ri cry in front of the whole class when you broke up with her,” you chucked, remembering the incident. Hae-ri and Jungkook sort of were going out in the middle of eleventh grade, but you always heard rumours how Jungkook was just playing around, like boys always did.

“Come on, Hae-ri and I were a joke. Can’t help it if she took us seriously,” Jungkook rolled his eyes. He clearly wasn’t interested in her as much as she was. As much as the others girl were really, even though to you he was what you always thought he was – a stupid, mean and lanky adolescent. “To think of it, I couldn’t help if I was a bit popular.”

“Oh, you were the cynosure of all eyes, Kook,” you smiled, looking down. It was true. Jungkook always carried an aura of confidence was that infectious. The kind of charm that made heads turn when he walked in the room, the type of startling charisma that was unnatural of a fifteen-year-old.

“Everyone’s eyes except yours,” he emphasised, crossing his arms over another.

“I mean, you hated me. We hated each other,” You state matter-of-factly, as you got up from the stool to the counter to make your purchase. “I can’t believe I even tried to be nice with you.”

Jungkook faced you with an expression on his face you couldn’t decipher. “I didn't hate you, not completely.”

That was news. You always thought Jungkook and his little gang were out to torture every weakling in school. Jungkook especially liked to torture you, so it would be an understatement to say you were a bit surprised.

“Which part of your icky teenage self,” you jabbed a finger in his shoulder playfully. “-even tolerated me?”

“The part that tolerated you thought you were special. And you still are, Y/N. Special.” He repeated.

There was a twinkle in his eyes when he spoke that you didn’t miss. Your heart felt like it was floating, warmed by the how Jungkook meant every word he said about you. Your stomach did this thing where it felt like a million bees were swarming around when you felt shy. A blast of warmth shot up your arms. The feeling lingered even when you pushed The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes in his direction.

Jungkook’s smirk didn’t wipe off his face after you had given your payment. The silence seemed unusual, did you just share an intimate, if brief, moment with your high school foe? Why had he called you special? You never stood out even when you were classmates, so why was he saying this now?

“I’ll go stamp this, yeah?” he cuts the silence. You nod, and he vanishes into the storeroom again. He comes back five minutes later this time and hands you the paper bag. You take your leave and silently leave the store.

What you don’t see is Jungkook’s gaze following you intently as you pull the door, walk across the street from the store and disappear into the night.

~*~

You returned home, your laptop greeting you with tons of messages from work. You cursed each of them, especially the one from your boss asking you to revise last week’s updates even though you emailed in a bunch of times saying you did. You pulled an all-nighter as you completed the tasks expected of you. By the time you were done, it was already two-thirty in the night.

You flopped on your bed, your body relaxing as it hit the soft covers. You breathed a sigh of relief as you pulled out your purchase from the paper bag.

You suddenly remembered the poem and the petals. You decided it would be weird, but you turned the book over as if you were expecting the same contents to pool from it. And sure enough, you were right.

Not one, but two pieces of notebook scraps settled onto your lap with some blue coloured rose petals. Your mind did a mental ‘what the fuck?’ before picking up the petals and placing them on your night stand. You picked the scraps and read them, never expecting what you would find.

Help me, for I am surrounded by loquacious ghosts

Yet you stand there, a beauty in flesh and bone

Women would die for me,

yet my mind echoes only your name

Break me from my reverie,

To kiss you in the blue sweater that hugs your delicate frame

You eye me with pure hate, yet is I to blame

I treat you wrongly,

But only to hide my love for you – if you push me away.

You read the second one now.

Blue,

It is the colour of the sweater you wear every first Monday of the month

The pencil you write poems at the top of your chemistry notebook,

The rain as it brushes against your skin when you're late to class

The look on your face when you're happy

The sound of my heart when you walk past my seat at the cafeteria table

The smile you wear when your friends hook their arms around yours

And my love for you that will never be requited.

Cold sweat broke out on your spine. This wasn't some love poem that was mistakenly placed in your book. It felt like the poems were directed at you. Even the first poem made you feel slightly suspicious because you had a resemblance to the girl mentioned in it.

You tried to knit all three poems together, because all those years in poetry class made you an expert at analysing. You found a connection. They were written by someone in high school.

The love for books, the pencil, the sweater, the behaviour traits, all reminded you of your teenage self from years ago. It was so intricate, as if this person had been observing you through a lens in class for years.

It was someone that you hated and he hated you too, but then again, you hated a lot of people in high school, and they too, you felt, disliked you. You had few friends, however good ones, all of which whom you remained in contact today.

Who could this person be? He definitely had outstanding poetry skills, the words worming its way into your heart ever since you had the first poem. You felt shy. Someone, in your class, liked you behind a mask of hatred. Your body contracted as you concluded that you had a mystery writer sending you messages with every book you bought. You wondered why you were living in the dark for a long time.

How had this not happened earlier? Why was it that before buying the book, it didn’t seem to have any individual contents in it, but after taking it home, it did?

You wanted more answers. You wanted to write back, but whom would you be writing to? You didn't know this person or his address. You realised that this was a one-way connection. You could only build your assumption if you had more poems to build them on.

And that could only happen if you happened to go to a certain bookstore couple of blocks from your apartment.

~*~

You went there the next weekend, on a cold Sunday morning. You kept the mystery poet a secret to yourself, although it haunted you for the whole week while you were at work.

As the weeks ensued, work was piling up, but you felt at peace when you were there among the books and Jungkook's company. The weekends went by with Jungkook narrating funny stories of certain customers he encountered, high school memories, work schedules, and of course books.

“No, Dark Places was absolutely not one of Gillian Flynn’s best works,” you commented, one evening.

“But the Satanic vibe was cool, you have to admit,” Jungkook’s voice was lost as he piled books in front of a stand.

Jungkook was a diligent worker for a newbie; he polished the shelves and smoothened out dog-eared books. He always checked the register and counted the cash, aligned the books the correct way, made note of what books were available and those which needed immediate restocking. He lost his callous attitude of high school years, but you berated yourself for always comparing his high school habits to the Jungkook now.

You rolled your eyes. “Have you read Karin Slaughter’s books though?”

You could feel his smirk from behind the stack of books. “Pretty Girls.”

“The Good Daughter.” You argued.

“Pretty Girls was grislier. I like.” God, you wanted to lunge a book at this guy. Everything gory or Satanic amused him, it seemed.

Jungkook was funnier than you imagined with the comedic antics he sometimes pulled off, by failing at twirling a book in his hands to accidentally hitting his head on the storeroom door behind the register. He sometimes flirted here and there, which was mostly harmless. But you couldn’t forget that time in the store when he called you special. The look he gave, the sincerity behind it, how genuine it felt.

You kept buying books and of course the love letters kept emerging along with the roses. You still had no idea who this person was, but as time went by, you kept falling more and more in love. You kept the petals in your journal. They did dry off, but you kept them regardless. You always kept the poems in your drawer, neatly piled into one corner. Sometimes, you pressed them close to your chest as if the words would somehow leap up from the page, dissolve into your rib cages and settle near your heart.

But one stormy morning that you were at the bookstore, you were weighed down by how work was progressing. The company had faced some setbacks, so you were responsible for getting the hearing from your boss. You tried to mask your sadness until you see Jungkook doing something suspicious near the centre of the room.

There was a small stand, where usually books were heaped into a mountain of paperbacks. It looked as if the boy was trying to pile the books in a house of cards fashion. The experiment was bound to fail, and Jungkook was lucky Namjoon was never here on weekends to see what was about to be happen.

But you help him instead.

“Do you like working here, Kook?” you tried to sound nonchalant. You hand him two books at a time, while he dexterously stabilised a book on top of another.

“I do,” he replies. “It’s relaxing. Especially when I’m not sweaty and working out all the time. Why?”

“It’s just, I hate my work environment you know, and I miss writing– “

Jungkook eyes you worriedly as he stops midway through the activity. You don’t notice and hand him some books anyway, but they fall right at the edge of the pile and the whole stack falls down on both of you like dominoes.

Jungkook falls back first on the ground, catching you as you fall on his stomach. Your faces are inches away from each other, but you rest your head on his chest, tears stinging the corners of your eyes.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry! See? I’m such a mess. I can’t do anything right, I’m a failure, I’m-“

Jungkook rests his hand on your back and the other hand gently stroking your forehead. You picked up on his hesitance, as if he was asking your body to relax as a signal that he was comforting you. You did relax, you felt as ease. The weeks when you were around him, you never felt comfortable with anyone in your life. Let alone the fact that he was attractive, erm, cute – but he was probably one of the best people you knew.

“Shut up okay? You're amazing. Those assholes at work don't know how talented you are. You're amazing.” Jungkook whispered, rubbing your back in small circles. “I…I sometimes don’t like working at my centre either. The toxic masculinity over there makes me want to puke. I hate the environment, and sometimes I think I’m the one who sparked it.

He wraps both arms round you now, and you're reminded again literally, that being surrounded by books and Jungkook was what led you to Fact and Fiction every weekend. You two lie there for a good ten seconds, before you realised that a customer may walk in any moment. There was also the mess to sort out.

You help Jungkook up, wiping your tears with the back of your hand.

“I can’t really see you cry, I start crying too,” Jungkook jokes, as he hands you a tissue from the tissue box. Always so concerned, you took note. “Is there something that keeps you happy apart from books? Y-you could try and do that?”

"Actually,” you sniff. “There is something that keeps me happy these days. Someone keeps writing me love letters."

There, your secret finally revealed. Jungkook gaped you, as if he didn’t believe it. Honestly, you didn’t either until you made the connection yourself.

He proceeded to ask you details of the discovery, and was shocked himself when you told him of how you thought the person could be someone from high school. It really got him thinking. He named each classmate you’ve ever had an interaction with, but you couldn’t picture any of them having any interest in you.

How did your mystery writer/(lover?) know so much about you? Little details, little quirks. Was he a stalker? But how did he know exactly which books you bought and when?

"Well, maybe you should write something of your own too. Maybe like, in response to how you feel when you read his poems.” The boy suggested, picking the books from the floor, dusting them before putting it in a box next to him.

You mirrored his actions. You pondered over the thought for a while though. Writing to him would be a way to practice your writing that you thought you lost. It was a great idea; you were doing it for yourself. And then if you ever meet this mystery guy, you would show him too.

“Wait, before you leave,” the doe-eyed boy stops your tracks. The books were successfully placed in the box, and you were helping him put it in the sore room when he asks you to wait.

Jungkook walks you toward the end of the room. He picks out a book and shows you the cover. It’s a limited-edition copy of one of your favourite authors of all time, and signed. You wondered what it was doing at the back, when it should be out in front.

“I saved this copy, just for you,” Jungkook’s cheeks blushed a tinge of pink. “I remembered how much you liked his work in school. And I’m willing to give this to you, half the price.”

You ran and hugged Jungkook the tightest hug you had ever given someone in years. He laughed, returning the hug. You felt like the luckiest girl, customer, (whatever!) and you almost felt bad because you had gotten something exclusive for a discount because you knew the employee, anyone else would have paid fortunes for this. You thought about declining, but Jungkook really insisted.

“Don’t think about refusing. I’ll go stamp this before you make your payment,” he says before you could protest.

Really, where had Jungkook been all this time? So much kindness, this boy was brimming with endless love that you thought you didn’t deserve. After a while, he comes out and you hand him the cash.

As you say your goodbyes and make your leave, Jungkook says “And please don’t cry, wouldn’t want to taint that pretty face, right?”

Something stirred in your heart. You had just started seeing Jungkook as a man, was it now that he started seeing you as a woman? A blush creeps up your neck as you contemplate the thought all the way home.

~*~

You carefully keep the purchase on your bed. Taking out the scraps of love poems from your drawer, you needed to look at your muse before you started writing on your own.

You stretched your hands, pen in hand, ready to recreate wonders when it hit the paper. But you were blank. It’s like your mind had wired out all the imaginations you had kept stored for the last couple of years. You fell flat on your desk, exhaustion over coming you. Had you really lost your touch? Your parents, teachers and friends always praised you for your writing skills, have you let them down? But you weren’t really going to quit this easily.

You looked at your purchase. There must be another poem hidden inside. As if controlled by an entity, you opened the book, flipped the leaves and saw the very page sitting in between the middle pages. You removed the pink rose petals too, your guy never seemed to forget adding them in. You turned the scrap over.

Today I heard your laugh

Setting my heart in a frenzied trance

The purest sound even the sweetest nightingale could not match

Like fireflies bouncing against thin glass

The most beautiful treasure, I can never have.

Your eyes watered. It was a poem tinier from the rest, but this one struck something within you. “Like fireflies bouncing against thin glass”, the words feeling sweeter every time you repeated them. You couldn’t believe someone, who was so far from you, could love you this vehemently.

Suddenly, you had found your strength. You were going to write. You were doing this for him. For you.

You picked up the pen and the words just came to you. It was a struggle, but it was a start, you console yourself. You never imagined you would be writing a love letter to someone you had never seen, touched and spoke to, but you didn’t care. Your hands worked away, filling the page in front of you.

But your mind echoed the same mantra over, and over again: I am doing this for us. I am doing this for us. I am doing this for us.

~*~

It's three weeks later that you decide to do an experiment. It's been quite a while since you've been to the store, and the poems stopped coming as well. Work was driving you crazy. You knew sometime in this week you had to drop by the bookstore, so you decided to see if your mystery lover came on the weekdays.

Another employee whom you didn’t know personally and Namjoon were there. Jungkook, of course, was nowhere in sight like you guessed. Namjoon gives you a wave from the register as he speaks to a customer. You knew that you already had too many books, but today was crucial if you wanted to see if your experiment worked out. You could also return the book after you bought it, granted you brought it in after fifteen days. You could buy a book for someone else; your mystery man would never know you were buying it for yourself. Yeah, that’s what you decided do.

You picked up a random title from the shelf and made your way to the counter. The store was mostly empty, except one or two customers. Everybody was busy on a weekday.

As you made your payment, you noticed Namjoon stamping the inside of the book before handing it over to you. The counter was designed in a way so that a person standing a normal distance away couldn’t see what was inside of it. So naturally, your eyes furrowed in confusion.

“Don’t you have to go inside and stamp?” You asked, wondering if Namjoon made the wrong stamp. Even the brightest minds can forget.

“What do you mean? Namjoon looked at as if you had said the most ridiculous thing ever.

"Like whenever Jungkook checks out a book, he goes into the storeroom and stamps? It’s a rule?" You weren’t being sure of what you were saying right now. You sounded like a poor student explaining the concept of rocket physics to a professor.

"Oh, I don't know why he does that, since there's already a stamp here." He holds up a plastic rubber stamp like someone would hold an antique. "And I mean, you could do that, since there are few spare ones in the storeroom, but that’s like extra effort you have to put in. I'm not sure why he does that."

You nodded, kind of silent.

"Does he do that to you or for every customer?"

You realise you never even noticed this. Usually when the store had customers, you were engrossed in reading or looking at books. You never even wondered if Jungkook went to the storeroom to stamp all the books that were purchased. The bookstore would be very crowded during weekends, and the time taken for Jungkook to go and come back usually takes five or ten minutes. Surely, he would’ve taken one of the stamps to the counter itself cause the journey would be too tiring. But you didn’t know for sure what he did for other customers. You slapped yourself in your head for being so ignorant.

You left the store with an uncertainty heavy on your chest.

You return home. Billions of questions bounced from one corner of your mind to another in an intense ping-pong battle. What was worse, when you looked inside the book you bought, there was no poem. No rose petals either.

Could it be that Jungkook knew your mystery guy? Was he the one slipping in the poems when you made your purchase? Did your guy come in the middle of the week and hand Jungkook his writing and leave it up to him to do the favour? Is that why there were no poems or roses today, cause Jungkook wasn’t at work?

You didn’t know. All you knew was that the best way to handle your doubts was to confront Jungkook.

You noticed that you needed to buy groceries for the night. You just had take-out for three days in a row and now the thought of Chinese food made you feel icky. You hit yourself on the head for not buying groceries earlier after you were at at the store. You took your purse and made it in time at the grocery before closing.

Once you were done, you stepped out with your heavy paper bag and saw it was pouring heavily. Pedestrians were already waiting outside the store, hoping the rain would subside soon. Nobody suspected today that it would rain and neither did you.

“Fuck,” you muttered, you didn’t bring an umbrella. The bookstore was just across the grocery. It had a bigger shade, enough to cover seven people from the rain. You silently thanked Namjoon’s choice of constructing the store as you launched yourself across the street.

Jungkook was standing under the shed, looking for something in his bag. You didn’t notice he was there until he called your name.

“Y/N!” his eyes lit up. Desperate, your eyes searched his hands. He was carrying an umbrella. You breathed easier.

“Oh hey,” you say, the rain making it hard for you to be audible. Raindrops pounded against the shed like fists banging a door. “I thought you didn’t work on weekdays?”

“I don’t,” he said. “I was meeting someone here for work.” You nodded, wondering how would bring up the topic of the poems. Maybe you would ask him on Saturday, two days from now. Right at this moment, didn’t seem like the best time.

“Would you mind dropping me off at the subway, though? It’s just near my place,” you knew you sounded desperate, but you needed to get back home. You remembered he had to take the subway to get home too. Jungkook violently nodded his head as he opened his umbrella. You both started walking, shivering slightly at the cold.

"Hey, come closer. Don't want to get your pretty outfit wet," Jungkook huddled you closer to his side, wrapping a hand around your waist for purchase. Your cheeks reddened, maybe at the way the wind whipped your skin or the fact that no one's ever been this near you.

As the space between you and Jungkook closed, you looked at the boy who was always so concerned with your well-being. He had been occupying your thoughts lately. Maybe because of his dorky personality or because he was very smouldering in person, but either ways, your experience of crushes told you that this was the beginning of another infatuation. But you, liking your high school classmate? As much you fantasised him from time to time, you had to resist thinking about it. He maybe had a girlfriend, who knew? Someone as wonderful as him deserved one.

But in this moment, under the incessant rain where both of you trying to turn his upturned umbrella, Jungkook breaking into bouts of laughter as a car splashed water on your clothes, and you complaining of your matted hair – you felt so happy. The puzzle of the poems was longer a worry to you. All you wanted was to be happy in the moment, with Jungkook.

“So, are you going to give this mystery guy a chance?” Jungkook's voice strained to speak over the rain. Ah, coming to the point. You had been so sure you wouldn’t bring up the topic, but destiny had other plans.

“How am I supposed to give him a chance when I don't know who he is or how he looks like?” You say, uncomfortable at how wet the hem of your jeans was. You were walking at an uncomfortable speed, trying to avoid the puddles in your path but in vain.

“He surely knew what he had to do to get you swoon over him,” Jungkook laughed, as if he was so sure. He was right though, strangely.

“He does have a way with words,” you agreed. The wind was horrible now, pulling your top over your midriff. "I'm scared cause maybe the day he'll come up to me, I'll look like trash."

"No, you never look like trash. You look pretty in whatever you wear, Y/N." Jungkook scoffed. You blushed again. God, why was it so hard not to blush in front of him? “But you do know what's coming.

“What is?” Honestly your mind had been occupied so much about work, and your anonymous lover than you had no time to think the next Jungkook wanted to say.

“Valentine's Day.”

As soon as you heard it, something in you jolted. Two days from now was Valentine’s Day.

"Do you think he might make his appearance that day?" you asked, your voice high as a sparrow’s chirp. Jungkook offered to hold your grocery bag in return for holding his umbrella. You obliged.

"Can't really say that, but would it make your day if he did?" he continued.

“Oh my god, yes,” you stressed on the word, even slightly a little bit anxious because you wouldn’t know what you did if he came out of nowhere.

“Does someone have butterflies in their stomach now?”

"Stop it.” You nudged an elbow at him. You have no idea what he does to me."

"I do know." He holds his gaze longer this time. The rain finally subdued. You saw something in Jungkook's eyes then, you're not sure what – sadness, hope, expectation? But whatever it was, you felt something reverberate in your ribs long after he tears his gaze away.

"I think this is where we part." You say, brushing the hair from your eyes. You were still holding his umbrella, waiting for the right moment to give it to him.

Jungkook suddenly takes your free hand and squeezes it in his own. "Whatever you do, Y/N, please give that guy a chance. He does seem to really like you." He tucked a hair beside your ear, you shuddered a bit at the cold touch.

Why was Jungkook being so persistent about it? Why was he so serious when it came to you and your mystery lover? Whatever the deal was, Jungkook's expression didn't waver. He was right too, and that strengthened your resolve to accept this stranger no matter who he was. You nodded, which made Jungkook only happier.

"I wish I can see him." You sighed, wondering if Jungkook was thinking what you were thinking.

"Y/N," Jungkook leaned over to whisper in your ear. "Maybe you just need to keep looking around you, because he could be so near to you, but you just don't know it yet."

You still don't understand what the raven-haired stunner meant by his words when he hands you the groceries, leaves without his umbrella and descends the subway stairs.

~*~

It was Saturday. Valentine’s Day.

Jungkook woke up in his one-bedroom apartment, a little shaky. Today was the day.

As he reached over to pick up the backpack he took to work, he unzipped the tiny front pocket. Scraps of paper fell out from the seams, like snowflakes on a wintry morning. The twenty-three-year-old looked at each piece, running his fingers over the love poems his high school-self had written to you. If Jungkook had told his angsty teenage self that someday the poems he had written at the top of his history notebook would be read by you, he would have never believed himself.

Jungkook always liked you.

It wasn’t love at first sight, heck, he didn’t believe in that. He didn’t mind you at first, but he realised what made you so special than the rest. You were strong, maybe not in the vocal way, but in the way you saw the world around you. When the teacher complimented how well you would write your answers, you evocative your poetry was – Jungkook could never imagine how a shy girl, her nose so lost in a book at the corner of class would do that.

So when Jungkook read your answers one day, or when he would sneak a glance at your writing, he felt insecure. The real reason why Jungkook always teased you was that no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t write as well you did, put his mind to something that you did so well, to be so intelligent, strong and soft. From you, he understood that strength doesn’t equate to being aggressive, or overly vocal. It can be in the way you can showed kindness as well.

So that’s why started pestering you, to hide his own feelings he could never reveal to anyone.

Jungkook never forgot how even after he teased you repeatedly in class, you would always give him an extra pencil when he wanted one, or a reassuring smile when he was anxious before a test. That was the only limit of his interactions with you, but it was more than enough.

He quickly took notice of you in the most subtle ways. The pencil you wrote with, the way your hair was styled one morning, that blue sweater that was apparently your favourite. How you passed by his seat at the cafeteria every morning to sit with your friends. How opinionated you were about certain authors and their writing styles. Even when Jungkook had to put up his ‘popular boy’ persona, sometimes he would tune out all the meaningless conversations he had just to hear how soft your laugh sounded when your friends showed you something funny.

You quickly became his muse. Jungkook was good at physical activities. He was popular, everyone had expectations from him to go on to college with a football scholarship. Everyone looked up to Jungkook cause made himself look like an idol. But in reality, Jungkook had nothing to show except for a fleeting charisma. Jungkook was good at physical activities, but not at words.

But you made him fall in love with words. Like everyone else, he was at first impatient at why poets and writers took so long to get to the point. But he learnt from you that art was patience. Love was patience.

He struggled, for weeks, months, trying to get the right words out of him. How he felt for you, how you made him feel. He now realised how hard it was express your feelings in few words. But with some practice, Jungkook eventually got there. He had begun to read more, surprising his parents too, but he eventually loved the activity. It calmed him. Soothed his nerves. Staying up late at night just reading, Jungkook noticed his English answers were improving. When he received the final grade, it wasn’t great. But he was satisfied. His whole gang slapped high-fives with him asking how he cheated his way through the exam successfully. He bit his lower lip, a habit of his, as he shrugged at them in response. The real reason was a pretty girl who always sat in the corner of class.

He kept his proudest pieces of poetry hidden in his bag for so long, secretly thanking you for realising a part of him he never knew existed. He took the bag everywhere with him, serving as his strength. His true, strength. Not the kind that had him running 20 laps around school and bench press 30 kilos to impress his coach.

He always regarded you as his first love, not Hae-ri, not any of the girls he went out with as a joke. He was sad when he graduated high school, but was too shy to come up and thank you. He regretted not saying anything to you then, knowing life is not one to give second chances.

But when Jungkook saw you in the bookstore for the first time, part of him thought this was fate. His feelings resurfaced, stronger than ever. He still had the scraps of poetry in his bag in the storeroom, he could just retrieve them and slip them into the book you would purchase. Maybe even some roses Namjoon liked to decorate on the inside.

When you slid your book the counter, Jungkook had deliberated the idea. But he knew that everything happens for a reason, so he decided to do it anyway. You would never know who it was, but at least he could tell you how he felt for you in one way. He kept repeating this as many times as you bought something from the store. He loved your company, he felt like the luckiest man in the world. Never had he felt happier when he was talking to you, getting to know the real you.

So that’s why he wanted to reveal himself to you, behold! I’m the writer behind all those poems!

Valentine’s Day would be the perfect opportunity to do so. He just hoped, wished, that you wouldn’t push him away. Or, be disappointed. That was Jungkook’s fear that kept him wide awake at night. Could you have been hoping for someone else? Did you not look at Jungkook the way he looked at you?

He would only know today. He was bracing himself, when he got changed, when he showered, when he raced to the subway and made it sharp at ten am.

Namjoon was already there, smiling at the young boy wondering why his cheeks were so red. Jungkook’s heart never beat that fast. His heart felt like it would be sliced open by a hundred bullets. He quickly put on his apron and pretended to be busy arranging the books on the middle shelves in proper order. It was already an hour when he heard the door open.

Jungkook’s feet almost leapt up when he saw you coming inside. He waved, a bit too much he thought, and took few seconds to gather himself together. He was ready to approach you any moment now. He would take your hands, press them against his chest and say: “Its me, Y/N. I’m the anonymous writer you’re looking for.”

Jungkook edged himself forward. All this time he’d been waiting for this.

Until he sees Namjoon walking up to you first.

~*~

“Y/N,” Namjoon approaches you. You didn’t expect him to be talk to you, since he was always so busy on weekends. He cleared his throat. “I just wanted to say…that you look pretty today.”

“What?” you laugh, nervously. Namjoon calling you pretty? All of a sudden? You never even thought he even looked at you beyond a friend. Yes, he was very good looking, Jungkook must have talked about you to him, hadn’t he? The former always complimented on your appearance, making you smile inwardly.

“Gosh,” he chuckles in return. “Your laugh really does sound like fireflies bouncing against thin glass.”

You blink twice, hand going right up to your mouth. Namjoon. Wait, Namjoon? So, it had been him all this time? Yes, it all made sense! Only someone as charming, educated and well-mannered as Namjoon fit in all the right pieces of the mystery man you pictured. No wonder the poems had a very loving touch, it was written by someone like him. But how he had he known so much about you? Was it Jungkook who told him all those teeny, insignificant details that you were made of?

At that moment, you didn't care. All you knew was that Kim Namjoon noticed you. He had noticed you.

You smile at him.

You looked over your shoulder, Jungkook’s face turning to a shade of grey. His seemed frozen in position. You wondered why. You just wanted to jump up and shake him and scream into his face: Jungkook! Namjoon is the one! He’s been the one writing to me!

“I've been meaning to ask, would you like to go out to coffee with me today? It is Valentine’s Day,” he scratches the back of his neck. You take his hands in yours. You nod willingly. You were too excited that all you had was time to point at Namjoon to Jungkook when Namjoon had his back turned to remove his apron.

Jungkook got the message you tried to tell him. He only smiled, but you wondered why it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

~*~

The café shop that you and Namjoon decided on was already swarming with customers, couples mostly. You guys decided to sit outside, a table for two. You were so excited, you were ready to bombard Namjoon with a series of questions, hoping it would give you the insight it needed. You both ordered two lattes and brownies with ice-cream topping.

“I can’t believe you readily agreed to go out with me,” the man before you shrugs modestly. “I mean, I could pass on as your elder brother, right?”

“Um, no, I was so happy that you asked, I…I never imagined, really. I’m really happy you did,” you stuttered, reaching out your arms to touch his. He appreciated the compliment.

“That’s so sweet, Y/N,” Namjoon smiled again, resting the palm of his hand on his cheek, giving you a longing gaze.

“Sweet, just like the poems you wrote for me,” you giggled, waiting to hear just what he would say. You almost choked on the next words.

“The what?” He blinked. Immediately, you knew you looked stupid. You tried to find your words.

“I said, just the like the poems you wrote for me.”

“I never wrote poems for you, heck, I can't even write poetry, Y/N.” Namjoon sipped on his latte that arrived. Your knees turned rubbery. He was joking right? You continued to insist, but Namjoon just shook his head firmly.

“I'm serious, I never wrote anything for anyone. Ask all my exes.” He was looking at your curiously now. You did too. Your hands were getting sweaty with nervousness.

“Then why did you say that my laugh sounded like fireflies tinkling against glass?” Exactly your question.

“Cause, I heard Jungkook saying it was.”

Your heart again did a little flip at his name. He was talking about you to Namjoon. But Jungkook was narrating the same line from the last poem you received, how is that possible, granted if he didn’t know the content? Or if, someone had given him the poem in the first place and he just happened to see it? A streak of anger went up your body when you thought of Jungkook intruding on your privacy.

“If...if, you didn't write these poems, then who did?” You searched your bag, taking out the poems that you kept in your wallet. You laid them out, one by one, on the table. There were many of them, but Namjoon scrutinised each piece closely. His eyes darted from one end to another, eyebrows furrowed in confusion suggesting he was in deep thought. Namjoon squinted at the scribbly, childish scrawls on the scraps and suddenly his brain clicked.

“This seems a lot like the poems Jungkook showed me, you know.”

You looked up shocked, your heart feeling like it was dropped from a height. Jungkook writes poems? You knew he read often; you didn’t know he wrote too. Did he have the time to? When did he start writing? All these questions made your head feel like it was stuffed with cotton.

Namjoon noticed your silence. “I know,” he laughs. “Seems weird right? He doesn’t seem like it, but that boy does have some talent in the writing department. He says it calms him somehow.”

“Do you keep roses in the store room, Namjoon?” You said, not looking at him. Your voice almost sounded robotic.

“I do, to brighten up the space there. Although I realised on the days you would come, there would always be one rose less the last time I counted them.”

Do you think...?

Suddenly, your brain had connected the dots. You shouldn't have judged Namjoon so quickly. All the times you remembered, Jungkook mentioned going to the storeroom to stamp the books you purchased. There was actually a stamp right there in the counter, but he never failed to go inside the storeroom instead. Maybe he slipped in the poems and the roses then?

And the handwriting. You remember going through Jungkook's essays in high school when you tried to help him out, even a bit. You remembered how bad his handwriting was.

But Jungkook, writing poems for you? You admit you did feel a soft spot for Jungkook albeit your sour history with him in high school, but soon you realised he's so much more than his shy demeanour. Yes, your assumption on Namjoon being your mystery writer overlooked all the clues, and you wished you thought more thoroughly. Now, because of your impulsive decision-making skills, you landed up in this awkward situation with Namjoon.

Jungkook was the one writing poems for you. Only he could notice those habits you had possessed in school, he was your classmate for fuck’s sake! All those years that you hated him for being mean to you, he was crushing on you instead? How, why?

But then you understood. You liked Jungkook. Ever since the first poem. He became such a beautiful writer, with all the delicate details he noticed about you. So, there was meaning behind him calling you special. There was meaning when he looked at you for a few seconds longer. There was meaning in his smile, in his actions, in his concern. There was meaning in every little thing he did because he liked you, and still likes you. And you liked him too.

Why had he resisted the ache in his heart to come forward and tell you the truth about who the person behind the poems was?

You put back the poems and muttered several apologies to Namjoon before you fled the scene, your mind rehearsing exactly what to tell Jungkook the first thing you meet him.

~*~

You barged inside the familiar bookstore, the cold air from the air-conditioner hitting you smack in the face. There were no customers, it was Valentine’s Day you remind yourself. Jungkook was busy cleaning up the bar, a solemn look colouring his usually bright face.

He looked a bit startled when he saw you open the door, as if he didn't expect you to enter at this hour.

“Y/N! How was your date?” He faked enthusiasm. You marched up to him and slammed the poems down on the counter.

“You could have told me, you know. The worst I could do was to storm off,” You crossed your arms, this time not as a defence mechanism.

“What are you talking about?” He wasn’t looking at you, he was looking at the poems now. How long was he going to keep up this act?

“Disappearing to stamp my book? The horrible handwriting? The intricate details about how I was in school? Sounds like only someone who knew me, or observed me very well, would know.” You said, tone a bit lighter. “I'm not dumb, Kook.”

There was a slight pause on Jungkook’s end before he speaks. “Took you this long to find out, though.”

You grinned. “You’re a coward.” You leaned forward, slightly kissing him on the lips. He responds, smiling, taking his hand to cup you on the cheek. It’s awkward at first, but his lips were just the right amount of soft and yours. Suddenly, Namjoon, your temporary crush on Changmin, disappear. The moment is magical as you lock both arms around Jungkook’s neck as he kisses you excitedly. Sparks fly between both your bodies.

You break away from the kiss. “You say big words in your poems, yet you can't muster up the courage to confess to the girl you like?”

“I thought…you and Namjoon hyung...” Jungkook’s cheeks are flushed crimson, as he eyes the floor in attempt to hide his evident embarrassment.

“Which wouldn't have happened if you confessed to me earlier.” You rolled your eyes, baffled that he didn’t speak up when he should have. “Do you know how awkward it was, realising you were the one behind the poems and not Namjoon?”

“Oh my god, did you leave him there all alone?” He tried to suppress a small laugh. “So, do you like me now?”

“We just kissed, Jungkook.” You punched him. “But yes, I have liked you ever since I read your poem the first time. And your writing is just…wow.”

“I try,” He did that thing again where he rubbed the back of his neck when he got shy. “Only for the girl I always had a crush on.”

“And you succeeded.” Throwing your hands over his neck again, nuzzling your nose against his, you felt the comfort, the same one whenever you were around Jungkook, slowly making it way from your legs to your arms.

“Valentine's Day is not over yet, shall we go out?” You nodded at Jungkook’s suggestion as you both made your way out the store, no customers projected to come anyway.

Hand in hand, you realised that fairy tales with happy endings did exist. Except for princes, dragons and villains – your story had roses, poetry and Jeon Jungkook, your enigmatic writer in hidden notebook scraps, whom you loved with all your heart.

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