#pt western au

[cartoonishreal]

fun au doodles....

[spidersinyourshoes]

fighting my demons (urge to draw phantom troupe western AU)

[iwachansarm]

Western au pt.2

[skythevirus]

Western Stand Off

I've had this in my mind of a nice idea for a short film in mind featuring an encounter against the Vigilante. It could be during the events of Pizza Tower or some sort of post-Pizza Tower cinematic trailer that The Noise is directing. Could also be a nice PT Western AU, who knows.

Somehow I ended up really liking the burly Cheeseslime character I drew for this.

[beomcoups]

Now that’s 90′s- A Seventeen Collab

Hosted by @beomcoups​ and @mingsolo​​

Drive in theaters... mall hopping on the weekends... confessing your watching TRL and Daria on MTV. The 90s were all about being fresh, nostalgic and keeping it real. Who better to star in this 90′s collab other than SVT?  Below are the authors that are going to be taking us through the decade, one Seventeen boy at a time. 

S. Coups

→ Cry-Baby by @duhnova

→ pairing: biker!choi seungcheol x fem!reader

→ genre: fluff, angst, opposites attract, drama, kind of college au, smut

→ summary: decked out in leather and riding a harley davidson like he’s got business with the devil, choi seungcheol was the talk of your small town. everyone looked down on him and when you come home for the first time since starting uni you find it hard to believe that the pouty lipped kid you tossed off the merry-go-round when you were six was some slick haired delinquent. → rating: 18+

Jeonghan

→ [he Emperor and I] by @flurrys-creativity

→ pairing: emperor!Jeonghan x Reader

→ genre:  the king and I au, royal au, teacher au, strangers to ? au

→ summary: Taking on a job as a teacher in a different country already had its own problems, but becoming the teacher of the emperor himself seemed to have a whole lot of extra struggles.

→ rating: pg-13

Joshua

→ [Stop, Kiss] by @hobeemin

→ pairing: joshua hong x poc!(f) reader

→ genre: romance, angst, drama, fluff, college au, 90s au (based on Can’t Hardly Wait)

→ summary: joshua wasn’t what you called popular back in high school, in fact, he was practically invisible. what happens when he runs into his childhood crush in college after growing into his looks? awhole lot of shenanigans ensue.

→ rating: 18+

Jun

→ Ugh! As If!  by @ wongyuseokie ​ → pairing: College Student Junhui x Female Reader

→ genre: established relationship, pwp, fluff, smut

→ summary: Your boyfriend decided to take you into a drive-in movie for date night, only problem? He looks scrumptious, and now your task is to make sure he knows just how good he looks, without the others knowing.

→ rating: 18+ 

Hoshi

→ [Caller #17] by @beomcoups​​

→ pairing: jock!Hoshi x college radio dj!reader (femme)

→ genre: 90’s au. strangers to lovers au, fluff, angst,

→ summary: You could name 10 things that you hate about him easily. But when you bond together over music, those things slowly turn into love instead.

→ rating: 18+

Wonwoo

→ [PAUSE + PLAY] by @mingsolo​​

→ pairing: wonwoo x gn!reader

→ genre: 90s au, fluff, humor

→ summary: Your new job at the VHS store starts to get interesting when a handsome young man comes to the counter with a bunch of interesting picks.

→ rating: nc17

Woozi

→ You Drive Me Crazy (But It Feels Alright) by @wooahaeproductions​

→ pairing: Lee Jihoon x Female Reader

→ genre: angst, fluff, smut

→ summary: You and your neighbor, Jihoon used to be best friends as kids. As time passed, unfortunate events and the cliques of junior high tore the two of you apart. Several years later, you find yourselves in the same college but the two of you actively avoid each other and some people would even say you were enemies. As fate would have it, breakups lead you both to wonder if there's ever a chance to rekindle the friendship.

→ rating: 18+ read here

DK

→ 60 Billion by @onlyseokmins pt. 1 pt. 2​

→ pairing: Lee Seokmin x Female Reader

→ genre: smut, action!au, apocalyptic/post-apocalyptic!au, space western!au, enemies to comrades to lovers!au, angst, fluff

→ summary:  How did a legendary bounty promised for turning in the wasteland's most infamous outlaw transform into a sick, little inside betting joke amongst your traveling companions? Though you have no idea why they're doing it… you sure as hell don't want that very same gunslinger comrade worth sixty billion double dollars to know anything about it either — but oops — looks like he already does! Damn you and your temper, some unhelpful lip-loosening alcohol, and one no-good, sorry excuse of a preacher you sometimes think of as a friend.

→ rating: 18+

Mingyu

→ Hot Wheels by @milfgyuu​

→ pairing: Kim Mingyu x Fem!Reader

→ genre: 90's AU, Fluff, Humor, Smut

→ summary: There has been something brewing between you and your part-time co-worker (full-time hottie), Kim Mingyu. Endlessly flirting on the clock at Wheelies, making out in the back of the movie theater, rolling around in the sand with a mighty good man...no other 90's dreamboat could ever compare. 

→ rating: 18+

Minghao

→ BREAK AND RETURN by @cheolism

→ pairing: brother's-bandmate!minghao x f!reader

→ genre: 90s au, smut, fwb/fucking your brother's friend 

→ summary: last week minghao did what he thought was best and put an end to your fling. he sees you again before band practice and can't help but give in to his desires.

→ rating: 18+

Seungkwan

→ once upon a summer by @the-boy-meets-evil​

→ pairing: Seungkwan x fem!reader

→ genre: 90s!au, summer love | fluff and some angst

→ summary: Every summer kind of goes the same. The population of your usually sleepy beach town doubles and you bust your ass to make enough money to last through the slow season. But a new face blows into town like a whirlwind and he’s determined to catch your eye. Only one problem: he’s here for the summer and you’re married to this town. 

→ rating:18+

Vernon

→ Natsukashii by @flurrys-creativity​

→ pairing: Vernon x Reader (probably fem)

→ genre: Jurassic Park AU, 90s AU, acquaintances to lovers/distant friends to lovers, Fluff, Angst

→ summary: It should have been a fun weekend trip but after the boat got caught by a storm and crashed on one of the dinosaur islands, you got separated from the group. You nearly despaired until Vernon found you.

→ rating: sfw and 15+

Dino

→ Four Page Letter by @shuadotcom​​

→ pairing: Lee Chan x Fem!Reader

→ genre: Fluff, smut, mild angst

→ summary:  Chan has always been just one of your step-brother’s best friends. He’s also been in love with you for as long as everyone remembers, but you never paid him much mind - that is until you decide to return home after many years away and you see the man he’s become. He goes from being your little brother’s best friend to being the perfect man for you in a matter of months. Now the questions are who wants who more and will either of you do anything about your feelings?

→ rating: 18+

[enretrogue]

𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗘 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟯 𝗙𝗜𝗖 𝗥𝗘𝗖𝗦 (𝟭)

.☘︎ ݁˖ = BLACK/POC WORKS | 23' FIC REC M.LIST

TLOU

ABBY ANDERSON

30 Minutes — @ourautumn86

So Hot You’re Hurting My Feelings — @hope-drunk

Babymama!Abby — @bayasdulce

Boxer!Abby x GF!Reader — @lillysbigwilly

Guiding Light (Lost At Sea) — @heavenbloom

Meeting Abby At A Club — @astro-ellie

At Least I Got You In My Head ⎢ 4 ⎢ 5 ⎢ 6 — @whatwouldsylwrite

Modern!Abby HCs — @darlingmisa

How Abby proposes To You (Modern AU) — @abbysdruidess

Making Out w/ Abby — @millersaurora

Resuscitate — @loaksky

HCs About Married Life With Abby — @abbysdruidess

Handcuffed by Dom!Abby — @millersaurora

Basketball!Abby — @shawtuzi .☘︎ ݁˖

College!Abby HCs — @cowgirlcherrie

Rockstar!Abby — @elsfairy

Dating Abby HCs — @sugarbag

ELLIE WILLIAMS

SFX Artist!Reader x Streamer!Ellie HCs — @elliesmainhoe

One Last Time — @ellieslovergirl

I Win — @bonnevia

If I’m So Special, Why Am I A Secret? ⎢ What’s Mine, You’ll Miss. — @angvlita

Pervy!Neighbor!Els Teaching Innocent!Reader Guitar — @strawberryjamheart

NSFW Alphabet — @hundredandsix

Enemies to Angry Sex — @elliesflwrgirl

Random Ellie Blurb  — @valentinetexas

Babysitting Gig — @lunels

The Hard Way ⎢ Pt. 2 — @totheblood

Western Nights — @lolasimms

Meddle About — @vitentia

ELLABS

3Some — @eroseas

Where The Flowers Bloom ⎢ 2 — @elsfleur

Okay, So. The Jail AU. — @elsweetheart

This Is What Makes Us Girls ⎢ 2 ⎢ 3 ⎢ 4 ⎢ 5 ⎢ 6 — @lolasimms

Reader Fucks Around And Finds Out — @angelanderson

Pool Party — @bellaramslover

Roommate w/ Benefits — @abbysvictim

Welcome to Jackson ⎢ Part Two — @misscaitvi

JOEL MILLER

Iris — @cowgurrrl

Hayloft  — @cowgurrrl

Brooklyn Baby — @cowgurrrl

As It Was — @cowgurrrl

Yo Gotti — @cowgurrrl

Natant — @din-miller

Orange Crush — @tieronecrush

Apothecary ⎢ 9 — @atinylittlepain

For Her ⎢ For Pleasure ⎢ For Protection — @wardenparker + absurdthirst

Good Girl — @valentinetexas

Picture — @softlyspector

Stranger Than A Stranger — @proxima-writes

Cruel — @notjustjavierpena

Fair Grounds For Love — @jobean12-blog

The Darkest Little Paradise — @morning-star-joy

A Wound That Never Heals — @toxic-seduction

DBF!Joel Worshiping Shy!Reader— @inkedells

Dead Weight Part III — @lovers-liability

Too Cold (Platonic)(+ Tommy Miller)— @prentissluvr

Joel x Wife!Reader — @forever-rogue

Like Rabbits Blinded By The Light — @walkintotheriveranddisappear

Heavy Metal Drummer — @cowgurrrl

Enemies to Lovers — @fooled-around-and-fell

Not a Survivalist Girl Part 4 — @chaotic-mystery + tightjeansjavi

Masked Up — @soullumii

Cat Scratch Fever — @soullumii

Pretty Prey — @cavillscurls

Only You, Only Me — @wonwoosthetic

What Never Left Us — @bi-writes

Tennessee Whiskey — @cowgurrrl

Starving — @jrrmint

[vodika-vibes]

Alright! I promised that I was going to make a list of up-and-coming fics, and tonight I actually have the time to do it.

It's gonna be a long list, so it'll be under the cut.

This is accurate as of July 18

Crosshair x F!Reader - Crosshair with a crush

Commander Neyo x F!Reader x Commander Bacara

Masquerade pt 2 - Wrecker x F!Reader

Alpha-17 x F!Reader - Same-faced Gods AU pt 2

Echo x F!Reader - Same-faced Gods AU

Crosshair x F!Reader x Tech - Same Faced Gods AU

Echo x GN!Reader - Western AU - proposal

Jesse x F!Reader x Kix - Soulmate/Werewolves AU

Misfit (OC) Fic

Dogma x M!Reader - Proposal

Delta Squad x F!Reader - Criminal AU

Sev x F!Reader - Same-faced Gods AU - Part 2

Fox x Reader - Demon AU

Tup x GN!Reader - Monster AU - Reader is a shadow creature

Boba x F!Reader - Same-faced Gods AU

Fives x F!Reader - Western AU - Part 2 of Previous Fic

Echo x Reader - MerSoul AU

Boba x Reader - MerSoul AU

Clone of my choice x F!Reader - Beauty and the Beast AU

Mayday x F!Reader - Fairy Tale AU

Sev x F!Reader - MerSoul AU

Fox x F!Reader - Regency AU

Tup x Reader - Modern AU

Bad Batch x Reader - Undersea AU

Tech x F!Reader - Enemies to Lovers AU

Fox x Reader - Snow White AU

Wolffe x Reader - Western AU

Fox x Reader - Soulmate AU

Fives x Reader - Modern AU

Plo Koon x Reader - Western

Colt x Reader - Gryffin Industries AU

Wolffe x Reader - Sleeping Beauty AU

Wolffe x Reader - Monster AU (Werewolf Wolffe)

Gregor x F!Reader - Regency AU

Fox x Reader - Soulmate/Noir AU

Alpha-17 x Reader - Horror Apocalypse AU

Jesse x Reader x Kix - Mermaid/Soulmate AU

Rex x Reader - Mermaid love story

Crosshair or Hunter x Reader OR Rex x Reader (I have options here)

Bardan Jusik x Reader - Bardan with a crush

Crosshair x Reader - Reader is Pregnant when Crosshair leaves the Batch

Boss (or Delta Squad) x Reader - Barracks Bunny Fic

Member of the Batch x Reader - Reader goes nonverbal (will probably be a Tech fic)

Clone of my choice x F!Reader - Reader gets a massage

Rex x Reader - Rex gets hurt

Echo x Reader - Fives tries to convince Echo that Reader is in love with him

Clone of my choice x reader - secret admirer - 500 follower event request (my bad)

Crosshair x Reader - Crosshair has a crush

Sev x Reader, Gree x Reader, Wilco x Reader - handcanons for catching her bathing

Jango x F!Reader - Smut

Alpha-17 x Reader - Pregnant reader - headcanons

Clones of my choice x Reader - Hearing I love you during sex for the first time (will also be smut)

Go (OC) x Reader - fluff

Alpha-17 x F!Reader x Fordo - Smut

Walon Vau and Delta Squad - father and his sons

Fordo x F!Reader -Fordo comforts the reader after she tells him about a trauma

Alpha-17 x Reader - Reader gets harassed by a stranger

Darman x F!Reader - Continuation of Jealousy

Dorian (oc) x Reader - Fluff

And that's all of them! If you sent me a request and you don't see it here, it's because I never got it.

[omegaremix]

Finds For 2014.

Robert Rental Mental Corrections

Dalek “Abandoned Language”

End Of A Year / Self Defense Family “Apport Birds”

aTelecine “Armour (Cut)”

A-Frames, The “Black Forest”

Rainforest Spiritual Enslavement “Black Magic Originated In Nature”

Cleanteeth “Pushing Rope”

Rubberoom “Bleach”

Unsane “Body Bomb”

Cabaret Voltaire “Crackdown”

Wild Nothing “A Dancing Shell”

Serengeti “Directions”

Thomas Lear & Robert Rental The Bridge

XXYYXX “DMT”

Tying Tiffany “Drownin’”

Leather Nun “Ensam I Natt”

George Duke “Feel”

Tony Hymas “Final Inspection”

Killing Joke “Goodbye To The Village”

Curve “Horror Head”

Rustie “Hyperthrust”

End Of The Year / Self Defense Family “It’s Not Good For The Man To Be Alone”

Bikini Kill “Jigsaw Youth”

Tunnel Canary “Jihad”

Professionals, The “Join The Professionals”

Sleaford Mods “Jolly Fucker”

Cabaret Voltaire “Just Fascination”

Chi-N.Y. Network “Keep The Fame”

Ariel Pink’s Haunted Graffiti “Kinski Assassin”

Fantome “Love”

Nite Jewel “Lover”

Minks “Margot”

Neon Indian “Mind, Drips”

Sleaford Mods “My Jampandy”

Grimes “Oblivion”

Young Galaxy “Pretty Boy”

Ariel Pink’s Haunted Graffiti “Round And Round”

Chrome Sparks “Send The Pain On”

Leapling “Seventeen”

Teen Daze “Shine On, You Crazy White Cap”

Zombi “Shrunken Heads”

Black Dice “Smiling Off” (DFA RMX)

Rubberoom “Style Wars”

DIIV “Wait”

Teen Daze “Waves”

General Lee & The Space Army Band “We Did It Baby (Pt. 1 & Pt. 2)”

Phil Western “We Have Come To Bless This House”

Severed Heads “We Have Come To Bless This House”

Xray Eyeballs “X”

Death Grips “5D”

Rory St. John “Astroakoustic One-Three”

Cloudface “Summer”

Ramleh “Elite Gymnastics track B4”

Fancy Books “Sponge Boy”

Duran Duran Duran Over Hard

Perfect Pussy “Big Stars”

Ringo Deathstarr “Two Girls”

Westerbur & Rowe “Side C”

Odd Future “Bitches”

M83 “Skin Of The Night”

Dangerous Birds “Smile On Your Face”

Au Revoir Simone “More Than”

Petticoats “Normal”

Joanna Newsom “Sadie”

Parquet Courts “Borrowed Time”

Slugabed “Sex” (Daedelus RMX)

Cleanteeth “Shitbreather”

Courtney Love Uncrushworthy

Japanther “Cable Babies”

Noh Mercy “Caucasian Guilt”

Visible Targets “Mechanical Man”

Michael Pipes “You Got Stopped”

Chromatics “Looking For Love”

Small Black Moon Killer Mixtape

Ringo Deathstarr “Summertime”

Au Revoir Simone “Let The Night Win”

Swervedriver “You’ll Find It Everywhere”

Empress Of “Don’t Tell Me”

No Joy “Hare Tarot Lies”

Xiu Xiu “Hi”

Muslimgauze “Hamas Cinema Gaza Strip”

White Arrows “Fireworks Of The Sea”

Naomi Punk “Fleeing Is Believing”

Slum Village “The Look Of Love”

Purity Ring “Grandloves”

Parquet Courts “He’s Seeing Paths”

Desire “Under Your Spell”

Japanther “Critical”

Starkey “Villagers”

Now Now “Wolf”

Pharmakon “Xia Xinfeng”

Mass Production “Slow Bump”

Atari Teenage Riot “Modern Liars”

Late! “Color Pictures Of A Marigold”

Peter Brown “For Your Love”

Black Marble A Different Arrangement

Ariel Pink’s Haunted Graffiti “Schnitzel Boogie”

Purling Hiss “Don’t Even Try It”

Omar Souleyman “Kell Il Banat Inkhatban (All The Girls Are Engaged)“

Cutthroats 9 Dissent

Poly Styrene (as Mari Elliott) “Silly Billy”

L.I.E.S. label Music For Shut-Ins

Jonwayne “Dumbo”

Carbonas “September Gurls”

Predator “Honest Man”

Panda Riot “Golden Age”

Whirr “Mumble”

Run The Jewels “Blockbuster Night Pt. 1”

Arca “Thievery”

Night School “These Times”

Thomas Jefferson Slave Apartments “Cyclotron”

Broadcast “Goodbye Girls”

Ariel Pink “Put Your Number In My Phone”

Ninos Du Brasil “Pandiero Sinchinsa”

NeruvianDOOM “Disastrous”

Thomas Jefferson Slave Apartments “Please Hear My Plea”

Future “Coupe”

Suicideyear “Hope Building A”

Hussy, The “EZ-PZ”

Carbonas “Frothing At The Mouth”

Night School “Birthday”

Krewe Of 77 “Three’s A Crowd”

Ekoplekz “Robert Rental”

SNTZXSNTZ “Boundless”

Wara From The NBHD “Squeal (Peel Off)”

Ariel Pink’s Haunted Graffiti “Fright Night (Never More)”

Mono/Poly “Alpha & Omega”

Casket Girls, The “Chemical Dizzy”

Bug, The “Void”

Suicideyear “Rememberance”

Standish / Carlyon “2 5 1 1”

Clark “Herr Bar”

Vereker “Rosite”

Pond “Leisure Pony”

Ninos Du Brazil “Tuppelo”

Pure X “I Fear What I Feel”

SpaceGhostPurrp “Mystikal Maze”

Dead Voices On Air “Philadelphia Introduction Comedy Routine”

Dual Action “NC-17 Drive In”

Consumer Electronics “Sex Offender Boyfriend”

Thomas Jefferson Slave Apartments ”Turntable Battlefield”

Bug, The “Swarm”

Suicideyear “I Don’t Care About Death Because I Smoke”

Travis Porter “Do A Trick” (Suicideyear RMX)

Fatima Al Qadiri “Star-Spangled”

Standish / Carlyon “Industrial Resort”

Ninos Du Brasil “Rebanho Espetacular”

Lussuria “Mondo Narcotico”

Factory Floor “How You Say” (Helena Hauff RMX)

Function & Vatican Shadow Games Have Rules

Giorgio Moroder “Giorgio’s Theme”

Vereker “Disconnect”

Axxa/Abraxas “Waiting Daze”

Lussuria “Keys To Unlock Paradise (Roman Showers)”

[embe95]

Camouflage Roses

Pt. 3

Part one

Part two

Where is Hyunjin? Is he alright, is he alive, or is this pain I’m feeling proof that he’s been killed?

No. I won’t allow it.

Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin x reader

Genre: fantasy/historic au, strangers to ???, eventual smut (not in this chapter), angst with happy ending, soldier Hyunjin

Words: 2311

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

”Father, please wait!” I sprint after him through the library and into the hallway, and immediately my ribs begin to protest. Hyunjin is at my heels. ”What do you mean?”

Terror is slithering its way around my muscles, uniting with the throbbing pain at my side.

Father doesn’t stop, his pace unfairly fast hands clutching a pile of papers like they’re all he has left. But he does answer. ”We heard word that the western front is moving towards the border, intent on invasion. We must get out of the way.” The last part is almost lost because he ducks into his own bedroom quickly. Before closing the door he orders, ”pack lightly, we’re leaving immediately.”

Hyunjin and I stare at the closed door. Its finally happening, everything I’ve feared. But now, after already losing my garden and greenhouse to what I can now imagine as a warning bomb, leaving the estate feels less heartbreaking. My heart was already ripped out. What I do feel is fear.

”I have to return to my unit,” Hyunjin turns me to look at him. His face is determined and his eyes are steady. If he feels the same tremor as I, he shows no trace of it. The grip on my shoulders tightens, and there I find the slight tremor, only evident at his fingertips. ”I’ll find you later, okay?”

I’m about to nod when I realize I actually don’t know what that means. ”Wait, when? Are we coming with you?”

His lips disappear and a glaze coats his dark eyes. I see a small twitch in the corner of his eye, and his brows furrow like the answer actually pushes them down. His voice is only a whisper when he lets go, maybe for good.

”I don’t know.”

I watch him walk further down the dimly lit hallway and through the large door that leads to a chaotic operation of soldiers packing everything up. It looks chaotic, but I’m sure there’s a method to the madness.

I don’t have a method to my madness as I enter my bedroom in a full body flex so strong I can’t stop shaking. My neck is so stiff from fear I have to turn entirely to look around. What do I need? What does one pack into hiding? When will I see Hyunjin again?

I don’t feel real. My surroundings don’t feel real. The war was just camouflage and talk and a singular bomb ten minutes ago. Now I feel like I can see the approaching enemy in the distance from my bedroom window, torches glowing ominously behind the ruins of my life’s work that I’m also now leaving behind.

Like they’d have torches… right.

I flit around the room like a distressed hummingbird and throw a bag together, deciding on a single suitcase, one with the best handle grip and tulips emroidered at the base.

A knock at the door makes me jump. My rib cage hates it and protests violently.

”Sister, are you ready?

”Yes, yes, just a minute.”

”There’s a car waiting for us.”

Rain whips the earth as our family crams itself to the back of a dark green military SUV, with our lives crammed into three bags in the trunk. It tugs at my heart to see my tulip suitcase next to a case of bullets and a casket full of rifles.

Do they expect we’ll need them? Will I need one?

I think I see Hyunjin running with a group of other soldiers with their backpacks secured and expressions serious. I almost call out because I really need to get his hand to hold mine again to make all this feel even slightly more palatable.

I can’t believe we have to leave our home. What is a home? In our case its a big house with four walls and a roof. It used to have a magnificent garden.

I watch the place we grew up in, where I grew the most wonderful flora, disappear into the darkness as we drive away.

I also leave behind a soldier, not knowing if he’ll ever find me again. And my heart suddenly breaks.

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

Not a day goes by I don’t think of him. Hyunjin has become my homesickness, replaced all the burnt plants in my head. I don’t even know when my feelings formed into such an all-consuming haze, but here we are.

He’s not so annoying, his ego is only the size of an acre instead of three, and although his looks are unfair, they really aren’t his fault. Some humans are just crafted by the same people who design peonies and orchids.

I think of him as I’m once again crammed in the backseat between father and Seungmin and see the troops scattered around us. I try to focus my gaze so I don’t accidentally miss him, but as far as I’m aware, the 95th was last headed south to join some other regiments.

This is the third time we’ve changed locations in the past two weeks. Our family isn’t used to tents, but I really have nothing to complain about, ever since I’ve seen men returning from battle all I’ve felt is gratitude and sorrow. Well, fear too, but not so much for myself anymore. I’m only a small gardener surrounded by heroes.

”He’s not here,” Seungmin mumbles when I unwittingly lean across his lap to look outside. I return to an upright position and realize his true statement almost makes me cry. ”But… I’m sure he’s fine, wherever he is.”

Father is approached by a franctically waving soldier just as we’re leaving the camp, and he rolls down his window after telling the driver to stop. I always fret these moments because of their uncertain nature. I notice a beautiful birch behind the soldier now conversing with papa, and hope it won’t burn to ashes with the war.

”Sir, the Eyrewood camp was attacked, you need to head further south quickly. Tell your driver to follow the 23rd.”

Father thanks him and nods. What I hear is that we’re moving further away from the number 95 which includes my Hyunjin. But he did say we need to head further south?

”Hear that?” Seungmin pats my shoulder. He’s been very caring since we left our home. It’s very abnormal, but so is everything else right now. ”Further south. We might find him.”

”We aren’t looking for anyone,” papa answers an unasked question, the word ’anyone’ clearly covering Hyunjin’s name. He thinks its a silly comfort, there’s probably a part of his brain that’s afraid of my affection for him. Luckily, that part is tiny, and he’s mostly completely preoccupied.

I decide not to continue the awkwardness with words and opt to stare at the gliding scenery. Sometime there’s a quick splash of colour other than green or brown, and my soul smiles. There are still flowers.

I wonder if Hyunjin has passed through here, maybe he’s seen them too.

Further south in our case means the Lasseter camp. We’re over 300 kilometres from our home.

Only after an hour or so after we’ve arrived amidst the tents and trees, I pick up a conversation that puts my heart in a vice.

The two soldiers walk past me with purpose, their gear drawing me in just because they distantly remind me of the one in green I’m looking for.

”Are the 95th back?”

”Mm, what’s left of them. They came in during the night.”

”What happened?”

”It was an ambush. Straight up trap. I think there are like a dozen of them left, all in the infirmary.”

”Shit…”

Seungmin catches me just as I’m about to greet the ground, and brings me back up gently.

”Hey, it’s alright-”

”You heard them!” I shriek through the panic and draw in everyone’s gaze.

”Shh,” Seungmin hisses, clearly aggravated by his little sister. ”Keep it down, it’s strange enough you want to find a random soldier, let alone that you’re traveling with us instead of heading to a refugee camp. So hush.”

My brother’s strong hands guide me away to a more secluded place. I can’t see straight, and my mind keeps drawing images of different Hyunjin death scenes.

”Now,” Seungmin’s voice becomes determined. ”You don’t know if it’s true, there’s always tons of rumours traveling amongst the soldiers. You don’t know. But I’ll help you find out, alright?”

”Mhm,” I hum quickly and nod much quicker, thankful to have someone level-headed here.

He might be dead.

No.

He’s isn’t dead. I won’t allow it. That has to count for something.

We head down to the medical tent, and Seungmin requests to see if they have-

”I’ll need his full name and service number.”

Seungmin’s face falls and he turns to me with a strange expression, pleading me.

Without missing a beat I respond, ”Hwang Hyunjin, 32518.”

The slender finger of the nurse glides down a dreadfully long list of names. He’s here, please let him be here. She takes forever as the pages turn, one, two, three, and just as I’m about to say that he would’ve been brought in last night, she pauses.

”Hwang Hyunjin, 32518, yes, take a right down there and head to the end.”

I nearly faint for the second time today because of the force of my gasp. The vice surroungding my heart becomes warm and loosens its grip. I can breathe.

”Thank you, thank you!” I shake both her and Seungmin’s hands like they were rattles and speed walk my way in the appointed direction.

He’s alive, thank god. Thank god thank God, I knew it! He wouldn’t have died without saying goodbye. He’d want to have the last word. Thank god this war didn’t take him from me. I’m so excited, it’s been weeks.

Okay, calm down, I tell myself just as I see a haphazardly glued piece of paper with his service number hastily scribbled on it. It’s stapled to a large canvas divider. There are injured soldiers all around me, and only now do I hear their groans and sobs. This is not a happy place. Not a place to bounce around like a school girl.

What he must’ve been through…

He doesn’t notice me as I peek from behind the screen. What a relief, because it gives me time to examine him, take him in. But what I find brings tears to my eyes.

The pink hue in his lips is faded, almost as if it has been sanded off painfully. The petals have cracks with old blood still staining them. His eyes, dark and sunken, are glued to the ceiling, but he’s somewhere else. It’s almost like he can see the sky beyond and he’s forcefully trying to move towards it but can’t, like his body’s made of led. The hands I’ve admired often are still slender and beautiful, but now more than ever they prove Hyunjin is in the wrong place. He should be writing, painting, playing the piano or guitar, or planting flowers with me.

”Hyunjin…” I whisper in a timid voice, scared of scaring him. His eyes fly to me and his entire body snaps upward, bringing him to a sitting position with his hands propping him up. I was scared for good reason, he’s obviously terrified.

We both hold our breaths for an excruciating amount of time. He’s the one to break the silence with a raspy sigh of a parched man.

”It’s you,” he smiles through up and coming tears. A sob shakes him. ”I can’t believe it.”

I practically sprint to him after seeing and feeling my presence is wanted. I sit on the edge of his bed, feeling a soft warmth for the first time in weeks when I enter his personal space so daringly.

”I thought you wouldn’t be crying at my bedside,” he grins through tears and only then do I notice my own.

”Perish the thought,” I whisper and smile at the memory. My own wounds have healed well, the little sprint I just did would’ve caused great pain two weeks prior, but my ribs are much better. My hair has grown back, thank goodness, and is slowly covering the scar on my forehead. ”I’m so, so sorry. I heard what happened.”

His lower lip trembles. No wall, no pretence. A hurt, scarred soul that should not have been where he has. ”It… It was awful. Their bodies… the blood. I’ve never- I never knew people’s screams could be so violent.”

I grab his hand.

”I don’t know why I’m alive… I should be dead.”

I weigh every answer that slides into my brain, and decide to go with ”I’m so happy that you’re not.”

[lucyandthepen]

a lesson on style - vi . [ ljn | njm ]

pt. i, pt. ii, pt. iii, pt. iv., pt. v, pt. vi

you’ve always been content with being associated with one word and one word only: average. average in looks, academics and social skills, you’re just looking to graduate high school without causing disasters you’ll have to live with until you kick the bucket. when you’re paired with school king lee jeno for the semester-long physics thesis, you can’t help but think the entire situation has pretty much set itself up for failure. that is, until you strike a deal with your partner. 

alternatively: an au tale involving lessons in popularity, eleven consecutive B­ minuses, a secretly sensitive, chess­-loving jock, and an amateur sex tape.

pairing: jeno x fem!reader, jaemin x fem!reader verse: high school au { jocks!nomin ft. a super cute whiny ap physics genius renjun } rating: M chapter warnings: none word count: 8.1k

author’s note: this was actually supposed to go on for a lot longer but... it might've reached a solid 13-15k and i just thought it would be better to split it into half-ish, so nothing major happens, although i definitely enjoyed yet another mc/jaemin real talk session that i also hope you enjoy! :^)

tagging: @justalildumpling, @spiderrenjunfics (no longer available, please give me your new url if you're still interested!)

You think now is as good a time as any for you to say something that’ll easily impact the trajectory of your life forever; after all, Jeno’s essentially given you the floor after such a strange and honestly shocking turn of events. You’re aware of the fact that his thumb is still traveling across your cheek, more idle as an action than anything else, but you seem to be experiencing the feeling as something closer to an out-of-body experience than an actual first-hand one; the tingles they send to your heart are weird and blurry, like your body can’t process his touch well enough to understand it fully. You suppose it’s because of your confusion at what he’s saying, which leads to your second option: asking him what he means. 

There’s little to interpret at face value, but what his words do is essentially unlock a torrent of other weird questions in your head. For instance: how long had he known that you liked him? Had he known this entire time? Did something you did make it painfully obvious? If he wants you to like him — and, as he says, only him — does that mean he’s essentially accepting your feelings? Does this mean… he likes you back? 

You assume this is one of those moments where, because your mind is going a million miles a minute, a lot of time feels like it’s passed even though it’s just been a small handful of seconds. This assumption is quickly broken by Jeno’s expression of concern. 

“_______________? Say… something.”

“Um,” you start before you can even figure out what you want to say. The easiest answer comes to mind: It’s always only been you. But that’s weird, and this isn’t a 90’s Western movie, and if it were, you certainly wouldn’t be the eloquent main romance interest, even if Jeno’s gaze could easily fool you into thinking that. You think about making a joke, but you’re befuddled and also fresh from tears that — if Jeno’s abrupt story is actually true — were totally useless and unfounded in nature. 

Also, you’re really not that funny to begin with.  

“I just…” you try again, and his eyebrows raise slightly in anticipation for your next words. Nothing else comes out after a few seconds, though, and he realizes this is just another false start, his hand falling onto your shoulder (maybe he’s tired of trying to coax it out of you with the thumb-on-cheek method, which admittedly had you clamping up more than anything else). 

“You can just tell me how you really f—”

“I think I have to go.” 

No. No. Why would you say that? The surprise on his face quickly morphs into something that looks almost crestfallen, an expression you’d never imagine seeing on bright, confident Lee Jeno, let alone ever be the cause of. His hand slips from your shoulder quickly, like he’s now worried touching you will electrocute him. 

“Oh. I’m sorry — I didn’t… mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“I’m… I’m not.” You’re not, are you? “Maybe a little, but it isn’t really you —”

“Something I said, then—?”

“No, I…” Your fingernail digs into the pad of your thumb, with you trying to use the sting of the pain to jolt you out of this nervous, inarticulate state. “I just don’t think… I have anything of value to say right now.”

“What makes you think that?” 

“Because…” Grappling for words is like trying to break through the surface of water; you’re almost there, but somehow you’re still floundering, and that only seems to be making it much worse. “Because I never really thought about what I’d do… if you really found out I liked you.” 

When you say it, it suddenly makes sense. For some reason, you’d always lived your life shuttling between point A (liking Jeno quietly in the comfort of your own mind palace) and point Z (fantasizing about your life with him where you live in a quaint townhouse with a cute mailbox and three kids), but you’d never really given much thought to all the points in between, especially not one that contains a scenario in which he’d find out and seemingly be okay with it, which, based on the current conversation, somehow seems like a reasonable thing to assume about him. 

You’ve always wanted it — him knowing, him accepting it, maybe even him liking you back —  but it kind of felt like, deep down, you hadn’t really believed it would ever happen. 

And you were kind of content with that, because you wouldn’t ever really have to deal with the complications of it. Right now, you’re feeling unprepared and a little exposed, weirdly vulnerable to his gaze. It once again, for the hundredth time tonight, it seems, triggers some kind of flight instinct in you that has you looking anywhere but at him all of a sudden. 

“You can think about it… now,” he suggests carefully. Being put on the spot doesn’t really ever bring out the best in you — a fact that might be known to people who were actually paying attention to your failed impromptu speech about whale hunting in your sixth grade English class — so you just pretend that the silhouette of Jaemin’s front yard tree is supremely interesting to you all of a sudden, never mind the fact that it’s about a few inches from Jeno’s ear from your vantage point. You don’t really want to see his expression right now, especially if that means it’ll only fluster you back into speechlessness. 

“I don’t really know if I can,” you admit. From your peripheral vision, you see what seems like a flash of discomfort pass across Jeno’s face; you’re sure you just imagined it, considering you’ve never imagined cool, aloof, king of your heart Lee Jeno as exuding anything other than utmost confidence. Still, his next words do make you question that notion twice over. 

“Did I… misunderstand something? Is it that you don’t have feelings for me?” 

“No, I… you know. I… yeah, I do, but I just —”

“You’re seeing someone else?” 

“No,” you say more fiercely, and for a brief moment, you’re so appalled at the thought that your eyes flicker to his, which ends up being a terrible mistake because the confusion in his gaze is so profound that the guilt in you swells tenfold. 

“Because I thought… maybe the reason Renjun and you —”

“He’s — honest to God — he’s just my friend.” 

“And Jaemin is…?”

“My… next door neighbor?” You blink rapidly at the lights still coming from his house, wondering now what Jaemin has to do with all of this in the first place. For someone who seems like he would be extremely uninvolved in this general progress of events, he seems to crop up time and again, weirdly always around when you need someone. Maybe it’s a neighbor thing, or maybe he’s a little nosier than you thought. But thinking about another element in this situation is starting to give you a headache, and you’re way past the time you’re usually already in bed avoiding homework and watching shitty dating reality shows instead. “I don’t really understand what he has to do with this either. I just don’t think I’m prepared to have this conversation at all.”

“But you like me, don’t you?” 

It’s weird, actually, now that you think about it — why does he have to confirm the fact time and time again? It’s almost like he’s worried, although you can’t imagine why he would be. More than anything, you’d kind of assumed that he would find that information pretty repellent, but with the way he’s asking in earnest, it almost seems like he wants to keep the knowledge of that like a talisman. 

“I do,” you admit, mostly because it’s out in the open, but also partially because you’ve made the mistake of looking at him again, and you start wondering how he could even wonder when everyone seems to like him (you, perhaps, to a somewhat unhealthy degree). 

“More than them?” 

“I—” Your brow furrows, another wave of confusion washing over you. But his eyes are much too honest in their questioning, and you speak before anything else can come to mind. “More than anyone, Jeno.”

What looks oddly like relief settles on his face, and you notice only then that his shoulders have been tensed up because he seems to relax them all of a sudden. “Oh. Good. Great. So listen, now that we’re on the same page, I—”

Jeno’s interrupted by one of the guys in a university sweater calling out to him from across the two lawns, voice booming to a degree that sets off a few annoyed dogs in your area. Jeno raises a hand to signal him to wait, his mouth still open on whatever words he wanted to complete his sentence with, but the sounds he was trying to make quickly die into silence anyway, drowned out by a huge crash inside Jaemin’s house. 

You’re not entirely certain of what he wants to say — on the bright side, he could have been ramping up to a point that could easily make all your dreams from middle school to now a perfect reality, but he also could have been setting you up for some kind of grand, embarrassing failure — not by his design or by malice but just by the pointing out of the fact that you two lead different lives and things would likely never work out, anyway, but it’d be cool that you liked him in your own time, and he’d allow it as long as you didn’t get drool all over his notebook in class. 

Either way, you don’t think now, with a bunch of inebriated college people shouting profanities on Jaemin’s lawn and a gaggle of high school kids panicking about what sounds to be a broken table and a whole bunch of pizza on the floor, is the best time to be processing those things.

“I actually,” Jeno turns his gaze to you again, strangely alert, like you’d just whistled for a dog’s attention. You’ve never seen him like this, and it’s weird to think that, at this awkward moment, you can still find him painfully endearing. You have to shake yourself out of the grip of the already beckoning force that tells you to sigh dreamily about how adorable he is. “Think I should really be heading inside. Looks like they also need you for some kind of damage control, anyway.”

The same college kid calls for Jeno again, dragging out the vowels of his name kind of annoyingly. Jeno sighs, nodding slowly enough for you to know he’s caught on — this probably isn’t the right time to have such a weirdly heavy conversation.

“Yeah. I probably need to help clean up, anyway. No one’s going to want to do it, and Jaemin’s already chewed me out for bailing on mop duty a few times.”

“Why’d you bail?” 

“Just… got busy, personally.” He looks sheepish, and it doesn’t take a bunch of lightbulbs going off for you to cotton on as well. Now, you’re just wishing you hadn’t asked, so you didn’t ever have to imagine it. Still, what’s done is done. You have to focus on keeping the discomfort out of your face this time. “Um… that’s not important, though. Anyway —I’ll talk to you soon, okay, ________________? Like… maybe we can catch up at school? You know, talk about our thing — the project, I mean — and like… et cetera?”

“Yeah, for sure.” Your smile’s weak, and so is your joke, but you should at least try to hold up casual pretenses as much as he does, even though he’s obviously much better at it. “I’ll tell on you to Hwang if you don’t, you know.” 

His laugh is soft, but it at least sounds genuine; his smile still reaches his eyes, which already makes your heart feel a little lighter. But instead of trekking off immediately, he lingers, strangely, until his grin winnows down into just the ghost of a smile on his lips. Even weirder are his hands, slightly outstretched towards your waist, like he’s trying to cross the gap between you (even if it’s admittedly very minimal) but suddenly decides not to. The result is him looking strangely stiff and uncharacteristically hesitant, but you chalk it up to him simply not knowing how to end such a weirdly situated conversation. You know you’d have an even worse time doing it if it were up to you, so you can’t really blame him. 

In the end, he closes the dialogue with ‘see you around, ________________,’ and a quick pat on the shoulder, which, if you think about it, seems a little disappointingly different from when he’d had his hand against your cheek a few minutes ago. Then again, you’re not sure you could handle something like that again, anyway. 

You watch him walk off back towards Jaemin’s house, and some pitiful, pathetic part of you is expecting him to look back, say one last goodbye to you, or something, but the university guy that had belted his name out so vigilantly just swings an arm around Jeno’s neck and drags him to a corner where a bunch of other similarly dressed people, to whom Jeno starts talking to almost immediately. 

Cutting this conversation short was probably for the best, anyway; you have no idea what he would have said, but you’re very sure you wouldn’t have been prepared for it either way. You trudge into your house and up into your room, already mentally prepared to spend the rest of the night obsessively mulling over what it all meant and what he had really been planning to say at the end. The process starts some time in the shower, while you’re shampooing your hair and you embarrassingly remember the feeling of Jeno’s hand tangled in it. The moony expression that the thought of it leaves on your face is present up until you see how stupid it looks in the fogged up bathroom mirror. 

Renjun still hasn’t texted you, which is honestly starting to be a source of mild anxiety because you can’t be sure if he’s dead in a ditch somewhere or just ignoring you for some unknown reason. Whatever it is, you leave like three messages wondering where he’s at and asking him to call you. You’re on your fourth message, which is asking to confirm about tomorrow’s movie (something you’d almost forgotten about save for the fact that you’d remembered this would be a point of argument for you both once again if you spaced on it) when a notification pops up that once again gives you a heart attack. 

Lee Jeno: u looked pretty tonight, btw :) 

You: oh!! thank you…!

You: you looked great tonight too…! :) 

Lee Jeno: haha… cute :) 

Lee Jeno: goodnight, ____________ :) 

This is the most emojis you’ve ever seen used in a single brief conversation, and you can’t help but feel like it might be a little juvenile, but it doesn’t even matter because Lee freaking Jeno called you pretty and cute in the span of five minutes. Your thumbs are shaking as you type back a typo-laden goodnight that takes you a full other minute just to edit before waiting a little more, but nothing else comes. Maybe he’s driving home, or something. You toss your phone onto your bed, away from easy reach, before you can start overthinking what this silence means again. 

Your reflection in your window mirrors the same scene you’d encountered in the bathroom: you, hair bundled up in a wet towel, bare-faced with a stupid grin across it. You’re so caught up in the act of reeling from Jeno’s three texts that you belatedly notice a square of light beyond your bedroom window. You almost duck out of sight when you see a shadow there, thinking about crying bloody murder, until you realize it’s Jaemin, who’s watching the ridiculous expression on your face with a curious gaze from a distance. He’s still in the same clothes he’d worn to the party, but you can see, even from this far away, that there’s this dark patch on it that looks suspiciously close to the way your shirt had on the day his coke had emptied itself out on your back. That must’ve been from the crash earlier, you deduce. 

You think he’s just zoning out facing in your direction, and you find there’s no need to meet his gaze, but there’s still something a little unsettling about having someone spacing out in your general direction, so you reach up to pull your blinds down. Your hand almost reaches the string, but Jaemin’s hand suddenly starts going up too, like it’s trying to follow you, and you freeze in your movements. His keeps going, though, up until it’s close to his face, and suddenly, he’s moving it side to side, in some weird regular pattern.

He’s waving, your tired, overworked brain tells you belatedly. The string of your blinds tickles the tip of your fingers. 

Unsure and a little self-conscious, you wave back, hoping he doesn’t notice that you were about two strong pulls away from drawing yourself out of sight. This is clearly the right response, because even from this distance, you can see the brilliant white of his teeth as he smiles, fully and unabashedly, at you. 

The first thing you do when you wake up the following morning is check your phone. You’re not even really sure what you’re looking for — maybe a text from Jeno, who, if you think about it now, probably has nothing to say in response to your boring ‘goodnight’ anyway (but you can still dream), or maybe a missed call or two from Renjun, who should at least be offering you some explanation as to why he was completely out of sight after parting ways with you and Mark Lee last night. 

Unfortunately, there’s nothing on your screen, apart from the stupid 번장 notification that tells you the pocket punch board you’ve been wanting for no good reason has been discounted by the seller to a price you still can’t reasonably afford anyway. 

You certainly can’t do anything about Jeno’s lack of contact, and to be completely honest with yourself, you’re not even really that sure if you want to. Something about yesterday’s conversation, while not exactly a train wreck, makes you very nervous to have a full conversation with him, and you’d much rather it stick to very basic, kindergarten-level things, like ‘you look cute’ and ‘haha’ and ‘:)’, but since that isn’t completely in your control, you decide you simply don’t want to do anything about it.

Renjun, however, is a completely different matter. You don’t understand why he’s ignoring you if he is, considering you had spent the better part of the night (at least, the parts during which you weren’t crying on your lawn) looking for him, so this silence, if deliberate, doesn’t seem fair or even reasonable. You decide that it’s much too early to be getting an earful from you in the end, so you just send a very emphatic ‘WRU?????????????????’ through both text message, KakaoTalk, and Facebook Messenger to him, hoping the repetition of both sentiment and punctuation mark through multiple platforms is enough to faux-yell to him what you’d otherwise be real-yelling to him over the line. You can’t tell if it gives you any sense of comfort to see he hasn’t been online and active for the last 15 hours. 

All the tossing and turning of last night, courtesy of the endless loop replay of “I want you to like me — just me” Lee Jeno edition, had consequently left you worse for wear; you’d gotten up at the rising of the sun (something you’d sworn never to do during the weekend) and had opted to just stay in bed for another hour, trying so hard to get over the feeling of his fingers against your skin that you end up committing it to long-term memory. The sunlight peeking through your blinds is what gets you to throw off your covers and admit defeat to the fact that sleep would never come back at this rate, and you decide to just head down, rubbing the lethargy out of your eyes before you make a poor man’s breakfast. You’re halfway through the jelly slice of your sandwich when your sister comes through the doorway, yawning loud to announce her presence. 

“G’morning, bedhead baby,” she greets, and you use the non-knife-holding hand you have free to rake through your hair. “Big rager last night, huh?” 

“Yeah — wait, how’d you know?” 

“We live a door down from Jaemin oppa’s house? Na Jaemin? Our next door neighbor and his whole family? We can see out the window into his lawn? Sometimes we get our sidewalk trash cans mixed up with theirs? Hello?” Sooyeon smirks, albeit a little sluggishly, as you wave her grating words away. “I saw you out there with him, you know.”

“With who? Where? Who?” You demand, your jelly-laden knife freezing in mid-air, the grape blobs slipping dangerously off the edge onto the middle of your bread.

“You. And Jaemin oppa,” she says each syllable slowly. “In front of our house.” 

“Oh.” 

“So usually how these conversations go is: I bring up a juicy piece of information pertaining to you, and because you experienced it first hand, you have to then expound on the piece of information, thereby making it juicier. ‘Oh��� doesn’t cut it. Not by a long shot.” 

“There’s not much to tell.” You wonder, briefly, if you’re now obligated to bring up the Jeno aspect of the night — which, for all intents and purposes, honestly felt like more of a big deal than anything else — but you quickly decide against it, chickening out when she approaches you at the counter and starts unscrewing the lid of the peanut butter jar. That might be giving too much away, considering she didn’t even seem to notice that you’d been bawling when you’d crossed the property line. “He just walked me back here.”

“Oh, yeah, because that’s what people who live next to each other in a not-so-close-knit community do: walk each other two steps home, to keep the baddies away.” 

“He’s just a naturally nice person, I think. Most people are, aren’t they?”

“I thought you guys were close. Didn’t he give you his varsity jacket? That sounds like a closeness thing.” She knots her index and middle finger together, and you slap it away. 

“We’re close only in the same way as you are.” When she gives you a quizzical look, you sigh. “Proximity-wise.” 

“Still doesn’t explain why he was out there, caressing your hair lovingly.”

You freeze, as opposed to Sooyeon’s comically relaxed posture as she scrapes the peanut butter across your other slice of bread. “He… was not. Caressing me. My hair. Lovingly.”

“I have eyes for the sake of seeing.”

“There was just something in it. In my hair. A leaf.” 

You’re not sure why you lie; the largest part of the reason is that you don’t want to have to go into the horrifyingly awkward details of your emotional state last night, but there’s something oddly nagging at you that you can’t quite place. It takes a minute of staring at your sister spreading the peanut butter evenly across the bread and humming to herself while closing the sandwich up that you realize that you don’t want her getting the wrong impression about anything.

Which is weird, because there’s nothing to misunderstand. 

Jaemin, albeit the fact that he’s been chattier to you as of late, more so than any other time in your life, is still just your neighbor. Maybe he’s graduated from being your sort-of acquaintance to something that vaguely resembles an arm-distance-ish friend, but the notion that you’re anything closer than that makes you feel a bit strange — almost like it… scares you, which is extra weird to think about, because there’s actually nothing inherently harmful about being casual buddies with some guy who lives close enough to wave at you from his window. 

Maybe it’s because it’s Jaemin, and that’s what might be tripping you up the most. He’s not just Jeno’s friend; he’s practically some kind of counterpart to him, and it feels weirdly like a line you can’t cross. Or maybe it’s because… Jeno had asked you about him last night, which had made you feel even stranger. Like he’d been worried about something — like Jaemin was a no-go zone for him, specifically. 

As you dully watch your sister take a bite off of your breakfast, it dawns on you: maybe you just don’t want people to think you like anyone other than Jeno. 

“Okay, well, you know better than I do,” she singsongs in a tone that tells you that you actually don’t. Sooyeon doesn’t press, but she also doesn’t make you feel like the conversation is over — even if she trills I’m going back up; thanks for the sandwich in that same voice before leaving you alone in the kitchen with half of it on the plate. 

Because the truth is that you don’t really know; you don’t know what’s so unsettling about being associated with Jaemin. Your sister’s not aware of the intricate ins and outs of your (delusional) relationship with Jeno, apart from your (apparently evident to everyone) crush on him, but you also know she’s not really deeply invested in where your heart lies; all she does is make conversation, as is her personality, as a form of bonding you’ve never really quite been able to navigate well. 

You just don’t get why the mention of Jaemin, now, makes you feel… something. What that is, you’d rather not dwell on. So you just won’t. 

You’re walking out of the kitchen, cheeks filled with peanut butter and jelly, when you see block letters on cloth, spelling out a familiar last name: Na. 

You still haven’t given back Jaemin’s stupid jacket. 

Today is the day, you decide. This seems to have started the whole conversation to begin with: the jacket that somehow brought Jaemin two steps closer into your life, the article of clothing that had opened the door to what shouldn’t even be a talking point between you and anyone else. 

This should be the proverbial swan song for this whole topic; you snatch up his jacket (and immediately regret doing so in such a brutish manner, noticing you’ve got a few specks of breadcrumbs on the lettering) and head out of your house, your bedroom slippers absorbing morning dew as you march yourself over to your neighbor’s. You should’ve done this earlier, really; there was no reason for you to hold on to it. 

Honestly, you’d just forgotten, given that you were more preoccupied with things that started with L and ended with ee Jeno, but you’d rather not extend any more misunderstandings. 

And even if Jeno isn’t here to see this grand closing gesture, maybe, just maybe, this will help you stop feeling so cagey about everything he’d asked last night. 

I want you to like me — just me. 

Because why would he even think you liked Jaemin at all? Or make it sound like he thought you did? Ridiculous. Unfounded. Kind of alarming. 

There’s noise in the air the closer you get to the Na household porch; it sounds a bit muffled, like it’s fighting the breeze, but you realize thereafter that it’s music coming from a tiny speaker sitting on the hand railing. It’s playing Dongbangshinki’s Here I Am, and something about that song stirs your stomach into swooping ten miles down as you approach. 

Your initial plan was to ring the doorbell and pray that Jaemin was still knocked out cold on a Saturday morning so you could pass the jacket off to one of his parents and be done with it, but you’ve no such luck; it seems like he’s an early riser, considering how he’s seated right there, on a wicker chair by his door, hunched over a half-played chess board. There’s no one across him to block his view of you coming up the steps, and he looks up the moment he hears the creaks of the wood under your feet. 

“Hey, ______________,” he doesn’t look surprised; in fact, he looks a bit relieved, for some inexplicable reason. “Didn’t think you’d be up so early.”

“Could say the same for you.” You have no idea what causes heat to flush across your cheeks; has Na Jaemin’s gaze always been this intense? “Um. Good morning?”

“Morning.” His laugh is an easy one; it always has been, and it kind of suits him, you note, before you realize how weird it is to think that. “What’ve you got there? Gift for me?” 

“Wha — oh, yeah, I mean — no, but it is for you.” You hold up his jacket, hooked on your forefinger, to reveal it to him. “Sorry it took so long to give it back.”

This time, he actually looks a bit taken aback. “Did you stop needing it?” 

“Um… I haven’t really used it, if I’m being honest.”

“Oh. Well, there wasn’t any rush. You could’ve kept it for as long as you needed. No pressure, or anything. I’ve got others.”

“You don’t need it at practice, or anything like that?”

“No; most guys don’t even keep theirs. They give them away, for… you know. So it’s no big deal.”

You fall silent; for some reason, his tone makes it seem like he wants you to keep it, which is just preposterous. You instead hang the jacket onto the back of the wicker chair opposite him and step back, like you’ve just set up a land mine you’re afraid of detonating. 

“Well, thank you all the same. I really… appreciate your help. That day. You know.” You’re not sure why you can’t form any sentences long enough to signify you do actually belong in the same year level as him, but he at least doesn’t comment on your ineloquence.

Instead, he just stares for a bit, at the jacket and your retreating hand, before piping up over his music. 

“You wanna play a round?” 

“What? Oh, I’m…” You wave your hands aimlessly. “I’m not good at chess. Actually, I barely know the rules. Plus, you seem kind of busy playing against… your imaginary friend?”

He chuckles again. “Just playing myself.”

“Trying to outfox the old fox?”

“Sometimes it helps to know how you’d get out of a sticky situation you made by your own doing. Helps you see what your opponent sees when it all boils down to it.” He gestures again at the chair across him. “Humor me a little. It’s not as fun just talking to yourself.”

You hesitate for a second; you came here to return the jacket, and that much was done easily, albeit a little more awkwardly than you ever wanted to. Jaemin’s aura is laid back and friendly, but you’re not sure why you’re teetering on the edge of panic again. Jeno’s words seem to be echoing in your head.

And Jaemin is…?

Jaemin is your next-door neighbor, it’s true, but you can’t say that’s really your only point of connection; if it were, he wouldn’t be expectantly waiting for you to take the seat across from him. And when you look at his hand now, idle against the chessboard, you can’t say you aren’t thinking of the way it patted your hair soothingly the night before. All that does is make you wonder the exact same thing Jeno asked you. 

What is Jaemin to you? A friend, perhaps, and definitely a nice person — nice enough to help you out, keep you company during a few low points. He’s a person willing to listen to you, funny enough to lift your spirits, and genial enough to not break your fingers for returning his things way too late (a low bar, but a good one nonetheless). Na Jaemin is a good individual, with pretty good music taste (based on the fact that his playlist, trudging on next to him, is now playing H.O.T.’s Happiness), and a good disposition about him that seems to make no small amount of people gravitate towards him. 

But you don’t really want to dwell on what Jaemin is to you; more than that, you can only really be reminded of what he isn’t. 

He isn’t Jeno. 

And Jeno knows you like him; he’s not only noticed it but confirmed it multiple times in a single conversation. Surely, then, nothing else should matter to him — or, for that matter, to you. 

You swallow down the refusal and nod, trying not to read into the fact that Jaemin’s face lights up when you pull the chair back and settle down on it. 

“So let me get this straight; you don’t know how to play chess?”

“I know a couple of pieces go in weird directions,” you admit. “That’s about it.” 

“Perfect.” His long fingers drum against the wood of the table. “I’m going to whip you into competitive chess-playing shape, my young pupil.” 

What starts off as a casual, humor-filled lesson on the roles of each chess piece suddenly becomes an actual lecture; you’re not sure if Jaemin is getting a kick out of instructing a rookie like you on the different plays — which are infinite, a fact he’s drilled into you several times — or if he’s really just enthusiastic about the game (no, sorry, sport, since he’s chastised you about three times on this terminology already), but whatever the reason is, you have chess pounded into your brain for the better part of an hour. By the time he asks you to actually start playing against him, the sun’s fully up in the air and you’ve had to tie your hair up to keep it from sticking to your neck. 

“I’m glad you got home safe last night,” he hums, pushing his black pawn to meet yours in the middle of the board. The Italian Game, he called it — not to be confused with serenading someone over pasta, a different kind of Italian game. That had gotten a long laugh out of you. Your hands flit over the white pieces, unsure of your memory. You only respond when you’ve moved your bishop to the same row. 

“Well, it was a very long and tumultuous journey, but I managed, with some help.” 

His knight comes out next, smoothly and quickly; you pause, rubbing the back of your neck. Surely, there was something else he’d taught you? 

“What a chivalrous, ah, knight, that person must’ve been.” He raps a knuckle onto the table, starting you out of the act of racking your brain. “Perfect joke. Well-timed. Excellent chess pun. I think I deserve an award.”

“Does whooping my ass two moves into the game count as a prize?”

“I don’t want to rob you of the feeling of hope this early in the match. Take your time,” he chuckles, leaning back against the throw cushion behind him. He fiddles with the speaker, and the songs skip one by one, until he lands on a song you don’t know — some Japanese track that sounds suspiciously like an animation opening. It’s lively and admittedly a bit loud, and Jaemin hums to the guitar riffs with surprising accuracy. “Anything interesting happen when I left?”

You freeze for a moment, your fingers still hovering over your own knight in hesitation. You know what he’s asking, and for some reason, you’re tempted to tell him — then you remember that it actually isn’t really his business, and you don’t want to embarrass yourself. 

“Not really.” You feign casual disinterest as you move your knight above your pawn line; from here on out, you have no clue what to do. Jaemin, on the other hand, is so sure-footed about his own skills (which are infinitely more advanced than yours) that he doesn’t even take his eyes off you to look at the board as he moves his next piece. You’re stuck thinking about what to do again — in the game, that is. Not about his gaze, which you try to avoid. “Just, you know. Talked with Jeno for a bit. Nothing major.”

Nothing major to him, you remind yourself. To you, your entire world had just been flipped over onto its belly.

Jaemin hums again, this time in understanding, but you notice (from your very surreptitious glances of him) that this time, it seems like he’s choosing what to do. You think it’s for the game, but when he counteracts your own (poorly planned) move with a swift response from his own pieces, you get the odd feeling he’s trying to choose his words carefully. 

“Was it a conversation where you all got along?”

You hadn’t argued, but you’d never really thought about the whole stint long enough to classify it as good or bad. You supposed it wasn’t anything horrible in the end, although the fact that it had robbed you of precious hours of sleep wasn’t exactly the best outcome. But Jaemin’s not watching your expression now; he’s intently looking at the board, even if he’s not the one about to make the next move. 

You get the feeling he’s suddenly avoiding eye contact too, which is weird, because he’s never been one to shy away from looking you straight in the eye. For some reason, that makes you feel like he doesn’t want to hear an answer. 

“It was fine. Nothing… bad happened.” You know that’s true, but somehow you feel like it’s still not truth. “He explained… stuff. Who she was. Why it happened. Totally understandable stuff, I think.” 

You choose not to mention anything apart from that — that he’d asked you to like him, nor that he’d asked you about your relationship with Jaemin. More than deciding it wasn’t going to be anything contributive to the conversation at hand, you also just didn’t want to. 

Jaemin stays silent for a while; he moves his piece, then taps his queen — for some reason, he’s letting you know something about his next move. What it is, you haven’t puzzled out; it’s not like you know which direction he’d be taking, and even if you did, you’d surely not know how to respond to it, anyway. You guess he’s just throwing you a bone, but why he would, you also just don’t see the reason for. 

You’re pushing your pawn hesitantly diagonal to capture one of his when he speaks up again. 

“Did he tell you how it ended? With the two of them, I mean.”

He says it so calmly, capturing your bishop with his queen in the process, that you feel like you’re just talking about the weather and who won yesterday’s league basketball match. You shift uncomfortably in your seat, clearing your throat, but you only actually manage to shake your head. 

“She cheated on him. Some college guy that she met during her orientation; you know she’s older than him, right? He’s never dated seriously since then. I think he was really hung up on her for a while — until recently, that is. I think. He hasn’t been that close to many girls.” 

“That’s… that’s awful.” You’re not sure why Jaemin’s telling you this; it honestly feels illegal to know. “I didn’t think… anyone would. Cheat on him, I mean.” 

“Even good-looking bastards like him can have rotten luck.” Jaemin’s smile borders on wry. “I don’t know why she showed up, honestly. Word probably got around… but she probably just wanted to know what would happen if she stirred something up with him one last time. He likely didn’t see it coming.” 

You stare at the board, unsure of what to say. It makes sense, but something doesn’t really sit right with you either — why Jeno would let her come close to him at all, let alone allow her to completely eliminate the distance between his mouth and hers for longer than a second. Even thinking about it makes you want to throw up all over again. 

“But deep down, I don’t know if Jeno completely got over her.” Jaemin continues, snapping you out of your short trance. “For a while after, they kept in touch. I think they even tried to work it out, but… obviously, it wasn’t easy. Until now… I’m not really sure.” 

“Why,” you swallow hard. “Why… are you… why should I…”

“It’s not easy to be a player when you don’t know much about the game, is it?” He’s still staring at the board, but you get the sense that he isn’t just talking about chess. “Like I said, Jeno’s a pretty complicated guy. It’s not really my place to say anything, but…” Jaemin’s eyes flit upward for a second, and he offers you a small, almost pitying smile. “I think you need to know anyway.” 

“But it has nothing to do with me. His life… I mean, his ex, and stuff.”

“I’m not too sure about that. If you like him that much… doesn’t that just mean you want to be part of his life?” He topples a pawn of yours, but you barely register the clattering noise or the fact that he drags it unceremoniously off the board. “I think you should at least know what you’re getting into. Jeno hasn’t liked someone seriously for a while, but you seem… to be the opposite. How much do you actually know about what he’s like?”

You don’t know why that kind of hurts your feelings; maybe it’s just because you have to face some kind of truth about how you don’t know much about Jeno’s private life, as badly as you want to. You even have to hear about it from someone else — someone easily kicking your ass in a dumb chess match. 

“I think everyone has baggage,” you say slowly, pushing your rook forward. You realize it’s trapped behind two different pawns, so you’ve essentially backed the piece into its own corner. Jaemin doesn’t seem to care; he’s too busy executing what clearly is a ten-stage strategic win on the other side of the board. You don’t really care.

“That’s true,” he concedes, toppling your knight. “But some more than others, I think.” 

“If he wanted me to know, he would’ve told me, right? Yesterday, I mean.”

“That’s may also be true, although I can’t say that with absolute certainty.” He looks thoughtful, and the pause gives you a bit of reprieve — enough to make a bad move that you instantly regret the moment you put your one remaining bishop on a square. Something like amusement flickers across Jaemin’s face, but he doesn’t make a move immediately. “Do you know what makes chess such a great game? In my opinion, anyway.” 

“No?” The uncertainty in your voice is from a lack of understanding at the sudden shift in topic. 

“Whenever you play someone, you get to see what they’re like — what their priorities are, you know?” His finger lands on a rook, inching it back and forth with idle intent. “You see how their mind works, what they’re like when they’re winning or losing, and what they think of you. Check, by the way.” 

You’re silent as his rook captures your bishop, and he picks your fallen piece up and sets it aside with his growing pile of white. 

“I’ve actually asked Jeno to play with me a few times, just for the fun of it. Sore loser,” he laughs lightly, one hand reaching out to lower the volume of his music. You notice the opening bars of Winner’s Really Really come through moments before it’s toned down. “Doesn’t really know or care about the rules, but he really likes to win. That’s kind of what makes him the star player on the team, actually. He really hates being backed into a corner, but all that focus on winning kind of tunnels his vision sometimes. Leaves him open to some attacks from another angle. He really hates that — which is probably why we barely play chess together in the first place. Apart from the fact that he thinks it’s boring.” 

You’re staring at your pieces, now very pitifully winnowed down in number, and you feel stuck. You’re not sure what to do, but you’re pretty sure any move is going to make you look dumb in front of Jaemin, who’s clearly a pro — so much so that he seems to know what you’re going to do before you even decide yourself. 

“You know what I like about your playing style, though?” He interrupts your train of thought again. You look up from the board, bemused; you’ve just been struggling to humor him since your first move, and it obviously isn’t working, since he seems more invested in the conversation than in the game. “You’re just trying your best, even if you’re new at this — even if you think you’re going to lose.” 

“I just don’t want you to think I’ve forgotten everything you just said,” you respond, smiling weakly. 

“You can’t always predict what’s going to happen in a game, even if you know the pattern anyway. Isn’t that just natural about anything in life?”

“You seem to know, though,” you grumble, tugging on your ponytail. You throw in the only option you have left: pushing your queen in front of your king as a last line of defense. “You’re barely paying attention to the board.”

“It’s just constant practice — a lot of hard work on my part. I don’t mind the grind of it, if it gets me somewhere good in the end.” 

“So is that the kind of player you are? Just… a hard worker?” 

“Maybe. I like to look at things from every possible angle. I guess that’s why I like chess when most people find it a headache.” He picks up his queen, rolling it in his palm. “Although, I guess Jeno and I have one thing in common — as players, that is.”

“What’s that?”

“I also really hate to lose.” 

His queen knocks over your own with a pitiful clatter, taking its place on the board. When he picks up your piece, instead of adding it to his knockout count, he offers it to you. You take it gingerly, opting to focus more on it than on the soft smile that’s now playing on Jaemin’s lips. 

“Checkmate,” he announces lightly. “Good game, _____________. You’ve got the makings of a star player.” 

“You’re patronizing me, aren’t you?” You sigh as the two of you start resetting the board; you have to watch Jaemin’s pieces get rearranged to position your own. 

“Only a little bit. I see a lot of quiet drive in you.” 

You place the last of your pawns in a neat row; the board looks like it hadn’t even been touched. “Jaemin, how did you and Jeno become this close? You seem… I don’t know.”

“Yeah, we’ve definitely got our unique quirks,” he chuckles softly. “But Jeno and I… we just go way back, I think. When you’re friends with someone from a young age, you tend to grow with them. He’s a good dude, really, even if our personalities are different, and it’s always a fun event so long as he’s around. Well — mostly. I’d say a good ninety-nine percent of the time.” 

You pointedly ignore the sheepish smile he throws your way. 

“You said before that you’re not the type to… you know, share your feelings, and all that. Then how do you… like what do you guys even talk about?”

“What do you and Renjun usually talk about?” Jaemin grins. “Anything and everything, really. Movies, games, why the jerk from Yongsan International gets on our nerves when he chews his gum. We just… have a tendency to be interested in the same things, no matter if our perspectives are different.” 

While talking to Jaemin is fun, you can’t help but feel like he has a tendency to speak in riddles. You still don’t really see any strong similarities in their approaches to their interests, similar as they may be, but what do you know, anyway? It isn’t like you and Renjun are exactly peas in a pod on paper.

His eyes lose focus for a second, hitting somewhere behind your ear before they quickly turn back to you. You have no idea why this makes you feel a little put on the spot. 

“Hey, you want to have brunch here? My mom makes a mean soybean paste stew.”

“Oh,” you press your hand against your stomach, wondering if the swooping feeling in it is from hunger or something unrelated. “No, I actually just ha—”

“_____________?” 

You swivel around in the chair, and your heart stops; you're not the least bit prepared to see Lee Jeno standing at the foot of Jaemin’s porch steps, a quizzical look very clearly etched on his sharp features.

[wingsofimagery]

Wishful Prayers

🧧 Summary: Jongho and you prepare for the Lunar New Year, writing up fortunes, as more people visit during this time around than during the Western New Year. 🧧Characters: Dragon!Jongho + Zodiac Keeper!Reader [Zodiac!ATEEZ + Zodiac Keeper!Reader] 🧧Genre: Slice of Life, Zodiac Spirit AU 🧧Rating/Warnings: General/SFW; Content warning: loosely based on Buddhist religious practice, but no religion is directly mentioned 🧧Word Count: 1635 🧧A/N: Back with a pt two! The LNY has not ended yet. I still have less than 3 more days left~ Pt 1 here

You scrambled around to clean the temple. People were coming to visit soon for the lunar new year. You wanted to make sure it looked clean before the crowd arrived. Jongho sat behind a table, legs crossed as he wrote fortunes onto a scroll of paper, wrapped it up, and threw it to the side. You stopped sweeping for a moment to watch his concentrated form. 

A smile crossed over your lips as you observed his focused self. His horns shone with brilliance as he communicated with the stars. All the boys had the ability to read the stars. They could give vague but also specific readings to people. They did not have to hand it to the person personally; the fortunes somehow always made it to the rightful owners. 

“They’re tied by fate,” Seonghwa once told you when you asked them how these fortunes were so accurate. People always came back to inform you how scarily precise they were.

You pretended to sweep again, quickly making your way behind him. Once you were directly behind Jongho, you laid the broom down on the floor. Kneeling on the floor, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed your chest against his back, careful not to step on his scaly tail.

“Almost done?” 

“Just got about fifty more to go,” he responded while writing without faltering. 

You hummed in response as you continued to observe his handwriting; beautiful penmanship enraptured you with the smooth brush gliding across the parchment. You were always envious of his handwriting, always wondered how he wrote the hanja so proportionally. You always had trouble writing them properly despite being taught by him in your younger years. Eventually, you gave up. The writing was too hard, the identifying was too hard—everything basically. 

“You’re not done with sweeping,” he commented as a matter of fact. 

You laughed sheepishly, cuddling him from behind and rubbing your cheek against his, “In a bit, you’re warm and cuddly.” 

“Do it now. You’ll have plenty of time later to give me your affection. Now go.” 

You pouted but knew he had a point. If you finished up quickly, you would have your way for the rest of the night. Then, the following morning, it would be straight to work to greet the people for the new year. So you stood up, forcefully pulled yourself away from him with a sulky pout, and grabbed the broom to sweep the remaining area. 

When you finished your task, you zoomed back to where Jongho was sitting. He had just set the fortunes into a box. He turned in his seated position just as you came tumbling into his arms. He could never get used to your clinginess, but he welcomed it all the same. His hand went to pat you on the head, fingers carding through your hair while his other arm wrapped around your waist. 

“I’m milking you of all your affection. I won’t be able to see you for twelve years after this year ends. I’ll be lonely for the next nine years,” you sighed against his neck, where you buried yourself against. 

Jongho shivered at the feeling. His heart swelled with pain. He knew how lonely you would be once he returned to his statue state. It was the same every cycle, and you guys had already gone through the cycle a handful of times. Of course, it did not make things any less lonesome for you despite having experienced it multiple times. That was why he and the other boys would always spoil you when they were around. He could not let you wallow in sadness for long, though. Superstition is that being sad around the new year will cause the rest of the year to be filled with negative energy, so he did his best to cheer you up. 

“I’m not going anywhere yet. Let’s enjoy our time together and celebrate the beginning of the year with the community. We will serve a good year. We can worry about the rest later down the road. This year just started, after all. So keep your chin up, and smile for me.” 

You made an attempt to smile for Jongho as instructed. You two had some time to spend together, so you decided to watch a drama he picked up a day ago. You tried your best to stay awake, but soap operas usually put you to sleep, so your eyes began drooping down after an episode in.

Awakened by the sound of people bustling, you sat up straight instantly. You pick up your phone to view the bright screen. 10:25am—you had overslept. In panic, you threw yourself out of your bed and darted into the bathroom. Jongho must have brought you to your room without waking you up. He must have herded the morning crowd without you, too. That dragon was talented in everything he did, but now you felt terrible for not waking up on time to help him out. 

With a hop in your step, you ran out after doing your morning routine. While tying the bow around your waist, you greeted everyone with a wide smile. The temple was filled with people in the bright morning, but that did not discourage you. Instead, you became more energized to help ensure the vital day went as smoothly for everyone as possible. You slapped his arm gently but scoldingly when you got to Jongho, who was out and about in his human form. 

“Why didn’t you wake me up? Today’s a big day. There are so many people—”

“I’m handling it perfectly fine, aren’t I?” he quipped.

You paused as you observed the controlled crowd, “Well, yes, you are, but—” “I think that’s all that should matter. Now you can help me. Plus, you’re well rested, so you should be able to pick up half my burden just fine.” 

You sighed with resignation but took over half the tasks he was doing. Together, you both assisted the visitors as well as conversed with them. You greeted them with wishes of good health and fortune. You made sure the elderly got to where they needed and did whatever their bodies could not let them do. All went well as Jongho took care of the fortunes for the visitors. Just like last year, the guests gleefully exclaimed about their fortune. Although some felt discouraged with theirs, most were happy with their results. 

Time slipped by, and soon, the bustling crowd became lingering souls. It was no longer crowded like earlier in the day. Jongho went about cleaning up the place (messes left by kids of visiting families and those negligent of common courtesy) while you escorted the remaining crowd out of the temple. With a final smile to the last visitor, an elderly woman who came every year since you started your guardianship, the doors to the temple closed. 

Finally, there was room for you to breathe. Your shoulders slacked with relief as a sigh made its way out from your lips. There was still one more thing to do, though. You closed your eyes briefly to release the tension in your body. Jongho walked over to you with his fortune for you. He was back in his hybrid form, finding it most comfortable. 

“Do you want to read it now? Or after we do our new year’s prayer?” 

You opened your eyes to look at the folded piece of paper in his hand. Deep in your thoughts, you reached out to take it from him. You held onto it as you replied, “I'll read it after. The prayers are more important.” 

You made your way to the biggest shrine in the temple. Jongho got on his knees, kneeling on one of the cushions laid before the table filled with incense burners and fruits on plates, amongst many other offerings the visitors had placed. He clapped his hands together as he said his prayers silently. You slowly knelt down to do the same, eyes closed to say yours. With a bow, you both concluded your new year’s prayer. 

Jongho stood up first as he lit up incense sticks for the both of you. You each stuck yours into the burner and clapped your hands together for the last time. 

“Now, go ahead and read your fortune.” 

You laughed quietly when you saw how much his dragon tail was swinging around, betraying his emotions, “why are you so worked up? Is it because the fortune is good for me this year?” 

“Stop asking questions and read it for yourself!” he urged. 

“Alright, alright… chill your pants,” you lightly pushed him out of annoyance, but there was a smile on your face nonetheless, indicating to him that you were not actually mad. You read the fortune silently, eyes scanning the text Jongho wrote with focus. You hummed when you finished, folding it back up into the triangle he originally made. A smile stretched across your lips, and you thanked him for it. 

“I hope what I wrote is all true,” he wished in a soft voice. 

“So do I,” you pocketed the fortune into the pouch strapped to your body, “now, we worked hard today. Let’s get something to eat. How does eating out sound?” 

“Perfect, I’m exhausted.” 

“I’m sure you are, my little dragon,” you cooed as you gave Jongho an affectionate pat on the head; you did not forget to scratch near his horn where he felt the most pleasure, “We’ll go celebrate with…” 

“I want to go to a Hong Kong cafe.”

You raised your eyebrow, “that’s kind of specific.” 

“Are we going or not?” he had already begun walking to his room to grab his jacket. 

You laughed but also went to bundle up before leaving the temple. 

“A Hong Kong cafe it is~”

[in-search-of-a-fallen-star]

at the last stroke of midnight (pt. 5)

Pairing: Shouto Todoroki/Reader

WC: 2,195

Content warnings: aged up characters, everyone is in their 20s or older. fantasy au. no pronouns used for reader, but they are described to wear skirts and are referred to as ‘my lady’. brief descriptions of fantasy violence, brief mention of blood.

part 4 : part 5 (you are here) : part 6

It feels like you’re floating on clouds for the rest of the day. How could it not? You’ve been replaying his words in your head for hours- the open look in his beautiful grey and blue eyes, the smoky sound of his voice in your ear as he told you that he’d known from the first moment you spoke he’d wanted you to go with him. It feels like a dream, but the weight of the circlet in your hands reminds you that it was real.

Part of your brain is stubbornly waiting for a catch, for the other foot to drop, or something to burst the bubble you’re floating in. This feels altogether too good to be true, says the little voice in the back of your head. You choose to ignore it for now- this isn’t interfering with your duties, and Shouto’s words earlier had eased most of your doubts

Perhaps this isn’t just a passing fancy for him. He wants you, and he’d told you himself, not caring who heard. It’s hard not to feel giddy when you know how it feels to be the sole focus of that intense heterochromatic gaze.

The afternoon flys by. The palace is abuzz with activity, full of people setting up for the ball that’s taking place in just a few short hours. You’re kept busy, there are many tasks that require your attention, and you find yourself running around the palace, carrying messages, making deliveries, and overseeing decorations.

You’ve lost track of time, immersed in your current project when you feel a hand tap at your shoulder. A younger maid stands behind you, and curtsies to you when you stand up and dust your hands off. 

“The queen requests your presence, my lady,” she says, indicating for you to follow her. 

You hand your work over to one of the people who’d been helping you and get up to follow the maid to the queen’s quarters. You wince when you look out the window; the last rays of the setting sun are painting the western horizon in vivid colors and you realize that you’re very, very, late. 

The maid stops at the doors and bobs her head to you before turning and walking back down the hallway. You sigh and push the doors open, ready to apologize to the queen. To your surprise, you find her already dressed and seated at the small table with her wire reading glasses on, a book in hand. 

She looks up when you enter and smiles, tucking a ribbon between the pages of her book. “I’m glad you could make it,” she says, her voice gently teasing. 

You sweep into a deep curtsy. “I apologize for my lateness, your majesty. How may I be of service?”

“I have a gift for you.” She stands from the table and walks to the wardrobe, opening the carved cedar doors to reveal a beautiful gown hanging inside. The kirtle is a beautiful cream plisse crepe, underneath a cream silk gown embroidered with gold and silver flowers. Pearls glimmer along the neckline and the cuffs, and the girdle is hammered gold, inlaid with river pearls and abalone.

When you stand in front of it, stricken speechless, the queen laughs. “I take it you like it,” she says, placing a cool hand on your shoulder.

It takes a moment for you to find the words. “Y-your majesty, this is too much. I can’t accept this.” 

“It’s already been altered to your measurements,” she says. “I wanted you to have something nice to wear to your first ball here in the south.”

When you stay frozen in your spot, she nudges you forward with a gentle hand. “Come now, let’s get you dressed. We don’t want you to leave your knight hanging, do we?” 

“You don’t have to do that, your majesty,” you protest as she pulls you to the mirror.

“I have not been queen for so long that I’ve forgotten how to dress,” she says, an amused smile pulling at her lips.

She helps you out of your working dress, leaving you in just your undergarments. First she pulls a fine cotton chemise over your head, then she sets down a pair of silver slippers for you to step into. The next layer is a petticoat, finely made and frilled with cream lace at the hem. Next comes the kirtle, which flows like water over your head. Finally, the gown settles on your shoulders. The gold and silver flowers shine under the candlelight.

The queen maneuvers you to her vanity, pushing you into the seat with a gentle hand. She puts your hair up with a few simple combs. “Now, for the circlet. Do you have it with you?”

“Yes, it’s in my pocket,” you say, turning to look for your work dress. She beats you to it, pulling the circlet out of your dress and returning to you. She directs you to look in the mirror before placing the circlet on your head, carefully centering it on your brow. She pins it in place with a few cleverly placed hairpins, and then steps back to look at her handiwork. 

You take a moment to take yourself in. You glow in the warm candlelight, the gold and silver embroidery making you shine. You feel…beautiful. 

In the distance, you hear trumpets sound. “I have to go,” the queen says, placing a hand on your shoulder. Her grey eyes meet yours in the mirror and she smiles, giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “You’re released from duty- the night is yours to spend however you wish. You can stay here as long as you need, you don’t have to come until you feel ready.”

She sweeps out the door in a swish of skirts, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You take a deep breath, looking at yourself in the mirror. Until yesterday, your only plan for tonight was to do your job and hopefully get well acquainted with the buffet table in between your duties. Now you’re faced with the very real prospect of having to dance, in front of a crowd of strangers no less. 

You know the dances; when you’d arrived in the south you’d been put through a boot camp of court practices, including a grueling few weeks spent studying the steps of the courtly dances. However, you’ve never danced with anyone other than your instructor. The prospect of dancing with Shouto in a crowded ballroom of people is daunting, to say the least. 

You hear the distant sounds of the heralds, and you know they’ve begun introducing the guests. Time to go, you decide, standing up from the vanity. 

You don’t want to be late, after all. There’s someone waiting for you.

When you arrive at the doors, there’s a line of people waiting to be introduced. The heralds announce them by name and title; it’s rather a spectacle as each noble enters the ballroom in a flurry of silks. You begin to second guess yourself- you have no title or accomplishments to accompany your name. You look at the line, and then duck into an alcove. Perhaps it’s better if you sneak in at the end, with no announcement.

Finally, the line dwindles, and the heavy doors swing shut. You can hear music pick up from inside the ballroom, and decide to make your move. You pull the door open just enough to slip through, and enter the grand ballroom. 

Everything inside glitters. The many candles on the chandeliers glitter off the strands of crystal drops, sending spangles of light skittering over the rainbow of silk and satin gowns in the room. The queen sits on her throne on the balcony across from you, surveying the people as they mingle. Princess Fuyumi and Prince Natsuo sit next to her, engaged in conversation. 

Your eyes are drawn to the figure standing on the other side of the throne. Shouto looks dashing, his hair slicked back and dressed in a fine military uniform, decorated with medals. Your eyes meet over the crowded ballroom, and the sounds of the crowd drop away around you. He leans down to whisper something in the queen’s ear, and then leaves the dais to walk down towards the ballroom. 

You curtsy to the throne, as is custom. You haven’t completely forgotten etiquette, even though Shouto is handsome enough that your brain goes a bit gooey. The crowd parts as Shouto approaches, the throngs of people stepping off the dance floor as he makes his way to the foot of the stairs. 

He bows to you, low and with one hand clasped over his heart. He holds out a hand, offering his support to you as you descend the last few steps to the floor. 

The two of you stand in silence for a moment, simply gazing at each other. 

“Hi,” you say, feeling a bit bashful. 

“Hello,” he says, voice low and warm. The band begins playing a song, a sweet melody ringing out over the quiet ballroom. “Would you do me the honor of sharing the first dance with me?” 

You nod, not trusting your voice, and he pulls you out onto the dance floor. You can feel the warmth of his palm on the small of your back, even through the layers of your gown. He pulls you close, closer than what is technically socially acceptable, you know. The way he holds you is tender and gentle, but it also has a possessive edge to it as he leads you through the steps of the waltz. 

“Why is everyone staring?” you whisper, looking up at him. 

“They probably can’t take their eyes off you. I certainly can’t,” he says, the corner of his mouth quirking up. 

You can’t help the blush that rises to your cheeks, choosing to turn your gaze to the line of his throat. This close, you can smell the scent of campfire and winter pine that clings to him. Around you, the music reaches a crescendo, and you feel both of Shouto’s hands at your waist before he lifts you effortlessly, spinning you before returning you to your feet. The action startles a laugh out of you, and you see an answering smile spread across his face. 

He lifts you once more before the song ends, and you get a brief moment to look down at his face. He’s gorgeous like this, a few stray strands of hair dangling over his forehead, a slight flush to his cheeks, and a twinkle in his eyes. 

The song ends, and the band starts playing another, a lively tune as other couples flood onto the dance floor. Shouto leads you into the dance, never taking his eyes off of your face. This dance is energetic and fun, and you find yourself laughing on the floor as Shouto twirls you around. 

You do find yourself out of breath after that, so Shouto leads you off to the side for a moment of peace while the dancers continue. He fetches you a glass of cool water and you drink it gratefully, smiling up at him with flushed cheeks when you finish. 

“You look stunning, my lady,” he leans down to murmur in your ear. A shiver runs down your spine at the feeling of his breath on your neck.

“You clean up pretty okay yourself,” you tell him, hiding your pleased smile behind the rim of your cup. 

A new song starts playing, and he takes your hand. “Would you like to join me for another dance?”

“I can’t,” you say wistfully. 

“Why not?”

“Isn’t it considered rude here to dance with the same partner for more than two songs?” you ask. “I’m sure there are many other ladies who’d like a dance with the tournament champion.” 

“I don’t care,” he says, squeezing your hand. “You’re the only lady I want to dance with.” 

“Are you sure you won’t get in trouble? I know you said you have responsibilities.”

He flashes you a smirk. That look on him should be considered a deadly weapon, with the way it instantly turns your knees to jelly. He looks like he’s about to say something, when you hear a voice from behind you. 

“Your highness?” says a beautiful black haired woman, clad in a deep red gown. Shouto freezes, his playful expression dropping. “Ah Prince Shouto, I’m glad I caught you,” she smiles as she approaches. 

Your head whirls. Prince Shouto? You look at him, and you feel stupid for not realizing it before. He looks like the queen, with the intense grey eye and the white hair. You can see the resemblance in his face, in the set of their mouths. You remember this morning- the same name as the prince, your ass. You should have known. 

You pull your hand from his, taking a step back. 

“Wait, please,” he begs, reaching for you. “I can explain-”

You don’t listen. You turn and run, pushing your way through the crowds. Somewhere behind you, you hear his voice calling your name. It’s the last thing you hear as you pull open the heavy doors, disappearing into the night.

[pilesofpillows]

I've been tagged by the lovely & wonderful @jbarneswilson

Rules: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have WIPs

There are sooooo many of these... this is gonna be fun 😅

An Angel Drowned - Namor/Okoye/Attuma OT3 nonsense

Like Real People Do - Attoye First Kiss Arranged Marriage AU

Stars Aglow - Pt. 3 of A Sea of Stars

Seas May Burn - Stars-verse spin off where I commit crimes and feel no shame

Sunbound - Attoye Kink Exploration

Unrighteous - Real World Infidelity AU because why not

Gather Our Ghosts - Featuring the heaviest angst I'll ever write aside from SMB

Glory - Attoye Gladiator AU

Carry Me Down - Canon Divergence, Hostage AU

Drown With Me - Dark Attuma, Homicide is a Summer Activity

If I Had A Boat - Okoye-centric, #burnthecape

Bigger Than Love - Another Arranged Marriage AU

Love Comes in Waves - Mission Gone Wrong Hurt/Comfort

Overjoyed - Primetime Pt. 2 (lol its been a long time coming)

Won't You Bring Me Whiskey - Old Western AU

Kiss with a Fist - Hate Sex dubcon, the dove is dead

LRPD Prequel - Because it's more necessary than you think

Oh and I have a Harry Potter fic too 🤣

Blood Never Lies - Pureblood Biracial Hermione

Send an ask if you want detail or anything like that 😂 I'll blab about anything. I do not have 18 people to tag 😭 we'll stick with the same homies I roll with all the time 😂

All Love, No Pressure tags: @theeblackmedusa @mamajankyy @tvreadsandsleep @xenokattz @umber-cinders @sharonrb

[headingalaxys-spicy]

Master List I: Cardverse and Demon AU's

Cardverse Scenario where the white Queen is taken

Yandere Spade King America X Reader 

Yandere Russia Into the Cardverse Drabble ( A solid intro if I ever decided to write a full fanfic for this AU) 

Yandere Carverse France Headcanons 

Yandere Carverse America Headcannons 

Preview Poem about Demon Matthew (Mild but edges on Spicy)

Yandere Demon America Headcanons  

Yandere Demon Canada Headcanons 

Yandere Demon England Headcanons  

Yandere Demon Russia Headcanons 

Demon Games: England, France, and Russia  

Demon Games: Germany, Japan, Italy  

Demon Games: America  

Demon Games: Prussia 

Demon Games: Spain

Demon Games: Canada

Spicy Yandere! Demon America  

Yandere Demon America, England, Russia w/Ghost Reader  

Yandere Demon America w/Strong Escapee S/O 

Yandere Demon America with a Priestess S/O 

Yandere Demon America w/ a Yandere S/O 

Yandere Demon N.Italy 

Yandere Demon Germany w/ a Sassy S/O 

Demon America w/ S/O that won his Bloody Money Game 

Demon America w/ Jealous S/O  

Demon America w/Stupid S/O that kept his coins  

Demon America w/Stupid S/O that kept his coins pt.2 (Spicy) 

Yandere! Demon China Headcannons 

Yandere Demon Russia w/Nun S/O 

Yandere Demon America w/ S/O who has awful parents  

Yandere Demon America w/ Demon Princess  

Yandere Demon Russia and France w/ Royal S/O  

Yandere Demon America w/ Smart human 

Yandere Demon America w/ Yandere Demoness S/O that captures him  

Yandere Demon England with Empath Darling  

Yandere Demon America w/ Ancient Monster Darling 

Yandere Demon England, Russia, and Japan with Helper Ghost Darling   

Yandere Demon America w/ Angel Darling  

Birthday Drabble Demon America Club 27  

Yandere Demon America w/Dark Witch Darling 

Yandere Demon America: Family life with S/O

Yandere Demon America vs Demon Canada that love the same S/O 

Yandere Demon America & Russia w/ Supernatural Hunter Reader  

Yandere Demon America w/ Witch Darling pt.2  

Yandere Demon America x Right Hand Demon Darling  

Yandere America X Male Reader X Russia Captive  

Yandere Demon America x Dumbass reader 

Yandere Demon America claiming them for the first time after kidnapping  

Yandere Demon Russia with an unfazed human 

Yandere Demon America x Dark Witch Darling p.3  

Yandere Demon America vs Demon Russia  

Yandere Demon America with Chaos Lord p.2

Yandere Demon Germany & Russia with a Chaos lord 

(I'm sure you're tired as hell from seeing the word 'Yandere' aren't you? America vs Russia as demons 

Yandere Demon America X Doomguy reader 

Yandere Demon America with a Succubus reader 

Yandere Alpha Germany and Japan with a traumatized darling 

Yandere Demon America x Chaos Lord 

Yandere Demon America with an escapee human 

Yandere Demon Germany with chaos lord darling 

Demon America w/ Pervy Sage like S/O  

Yandere Demon America with a Heathen Goddess darling 

Yandere Demon Belarus 

Yandere demon America with a Nephilim Darling 

Yandere Demon America and Japan with an Oni darling 

Demon King America with an experimental dragon darling 

Yandere America with Platonic Yandere Demonness 

Yandere Demon Kings Lands 

Yandere Demon King America X Reader : Someone tries to assassinate you 

Yandere England and Russia with a Western Dragon Shapeshifter darling 

Yandere Demon Germany with a human S/O that won his game

Yandere Demon America with a Half Human / Half Demon Darling 

Yandere Demon King America X Reader X Demon King Russia: Right-Hand Woman p.2 

Yandere Demon King America X Reader X Demon King Russia: Right Hand Woman P.3

Canada: The Floating Maple Leaves Gameplay

Canada SFW Headcannons

Demon America with a Fem! S/O and a box of Chocolate

Children in the Demon Au

Demon King’s China and Japan’s children 

Demon King England Children 

Demon King Germany’s Children

Demon King Russia’s Kids 

Angel AU 

Yandere! Angel Russia and England falling in love with a demon darling 

Yandere! Angel America & Germany in Luv with a demon 

Yandere Angel France and Japan in love with a demon



[robinlolo]

ZUKKA FIC RECS :)

Sokka is washed overboard while working on the fisherman's boat during the storm. He wakes on a deserted island.

Or... mostly deserted.

Chief Arnook never assigns Sokka to protect Princess Yue, so he goes to fight the Fire Nation with the other men. When the moon dies, and the ocean spirit takes its revenge, Sokka is caught standing on the deck of a Fire Nation ship. Sokka should have drowned… and he would have drowned, if not for a certain Fire Nation raft fleeing the North Pole.

[An enemies-to-lovers season 2 rewrite, where Sokka is separated from the gaang during the Siege of the North, and travels the Earth Kingdom with Zuko instead].

The world is a wild, strange place, and Zuko has spent his whole life searching for his place in it.

An accidental encounter with Prince Zuko forces Sokka to discover that desperate times call for desperate measures. Oh, and he's not telling that story to anyone.

Sokka isn't sure what Zuko is doing in the middle of a swamp, but what he is sure about is that it can't be good.

Book 3. Sokka/Zuko. Set after The Boiling Rock Pt. 2, Sokka and Zuko explore the Western Air Temple, where Sokka tries to get Zuko to talk about girls, marriage, and maybe even a future for the two of them.

Sokka and Zuko are both weird guys. Fortunately, they're the same kind of weird as each other.

Sokka thinks Ozai’s beach house is pretty awesome. Slightly less awesome is the couch he has to sleep on, as is accidentally getting into Zuko’s bed.

At first, that is.

Long ago, the four nations lived in harmony. Then everything changed when the tower of Babel was built.

Just kidding- this will be a typical canon rewrite of the Avatar: The Last Airbender story with soulmates, Zukka, and languages!

Follow Sokka where he embarks on a journey around the world, following a strange monk who speaks in a dialect over 100 years old. Along the way, Sokka realizes he has a soulmate, depicted by the black lettering that appears on his wrist out on his journey. The only problem is, he can't read the writing for the life of him.

*Tower of Babel not included

Sokka deals with the loss, heartbreak, and fear as he learns just who the name on his wrist belongs to. He embarks on a delicate journey of acceptance and grief, while Prince Zuko struggles to keep his cool while life throws anything it can at him. Follow the boys in the second book of the Lost in Translation series!

Typical soulmate au/canon rewrite with a fun twist: realistic languages! If you're new here, be sure to start with book one! Regular readers, good to see you again! Hope you enjoy the second installment of this silly little fanfic I've grown to love :)

[abitohoney]

Requests and WIPs

MDNI; 18+

(You can find my completed works here)

Requests are currently Closed (Just because I feel awful about how long it takes me to complete these. I do still have some in my inbox that I will eventually address.)

Current oneshot requests in my queue (all readers are f!reader)

Sevika x Reader (Yandere Sevika) started (now a mini multichap)

Young Sevika x Reader (friends to lovers) started (now a mini multichap)

Sevika x Caitlyn

Poly Sevika x Reader x Ran (lesser/new recruit reader) (now a short multichap based on these requests: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4)

Sevika x Mel

Ambessa x Sub!Reader

Sevika x Reader x Grayson

Camping Sevika x Reader started

Sevika (w/ a corruption kink) x Goody-two-shoes Reader started

Continuation of Ran x Reader relationship HCs (turning this into PT2 of Show Me How)

Professor Sevika x Reader Bend and Break sequel/CH6

Current HC/Imagine requests in my queue (all readers are f!reader)

What Music my Muses Listen to

What are my Muses Fears/Phobias started

How Sevika and Reader interact with Jinx and/or Silco

Sevika x Reader roleplay

How Sevika and Reader interact with Sevika's ex(es)

Overstim/Multiple Orgasm AMAB Sevika

Ran’s turn-offs and turn-ons

Other WIPs/Planned fics (all readers are f!reader)

Jealous Ambessa x Reader Pt 2

Sevika x Mother!Reader started (multichap)

Western Sevika x Reader (multichap)

Sevika x Reader x Silco (mini multichap)

Highschool AU Sevika x Reader (mini multichap)

Lifeguard!Sevika x Reader started

MailCarrier!Sevika x Reader (I know it sounds silly. That's intentional)

Pt 2 of Pray to Me (Demon Sevika x Reader)

Ch6 of A Shimmer in the Night (Werewolf Sevika x Reader)

Sub!Sevika x Dom!Reader started (mini multichap)

Sevika x Reader using Shimmer as a drug started (oneshot based on Submit)

bottom/sub Sevika x top/dom Reader (oneshot based on Submit)

Sevika x Reader job gone wrong (FINAL oneshot based on Submit)