#sometimes i'll make exceptions with some people's OCs but that's it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

justrainandcoffee · 7 months

Text

Deal (Tommy Shelby vs. oc!Solomons) + (Alfie Solomons x fem!oc) Part 1

“You're a lamb entering the territory of a hungry wolf.”

Masterlist

Summary: Why is Thomas Shelby in front of Mrs. Solomons? Just business. Tommy just needs information. But first he needs to deal with Rose Solomons who, unlike her husband, has no sympathy for the man sitting in her office. And yet, they know how to make a deal. "A soul for a soul, Mr. Shelby."

Warnings: Mentions of dead, killing. Allusions to sex. Mentions of physical violence. Misogyny.

Words: 4.5k. || Special thanks to @look-at-the-soul who helped me today 🙃♥️.

1924.

Yesterday

"The bastard is a fookin' ghost!" yelled Arthur.

The Garrison was empty except for those members of the Peaky Blinders, allowed to be there. There was a person that they couldn't find. An Irishman called Nicholas Baker, possible member of the IRA. Last time they saw him, it was he when he shot a blinder and left him to die in the streets. He escaped before Arthur or anyone else could catch him.

Since then, the brothers and the rest of the gang were looking for him no succeed. Not just because he killed a man they know, but also because they were sure he was a spy.

"Maybe he's dead," suggested Isaiah.

"No. He's alive and living in London." This time, Tommy Shelby's voice could be heard all over the place. "And Elias is not the only person he killed. And his real name is Sean Patrick O'Finn."

Tommy dropped a newspaper in front of his brother and Arthur read it out loud.

"His own sister! He fookin' killed his sister!"

"And tried to killed his wife as well, according to the neighbours. She escaped." Tommy sat in his usual place as he lit up a cigarette and poured himself a glass of whiskey. He looked at Arthur and the rest of his men.

"We have nothing, then! He can be in middle of fookin' Russia by now." Arthur was frustrated as usual.

"I don't think so. I think he's still there in London, and as we know, police is useless. London is a big city and they don't care. People are killed every day" Tommy lit another cigarette "but I'm going to find him. And I'm going to put a bullet in his head, too."

"You don't know where to start, Tommy!" Arthur furrowed brow and look at his brother.

"Yes, I do know where to start. I need to talk to his wife."

"But do you know where this woman is, Tom?"

"Yes."

The Solomons residence in London was quiet. Rose was working and Alfie just arrived there over an hour ago. He was about to rest his back in bed when their maid announced that he had a call.

"It's Mr. Shelby," the woman said. She saw him do a grimace, but he said nothing to her.

"Thanks, Doris."

Alfie entered his office and closed the door behind before picking up the phone. Every time Tommy called it meant problems, usually for him. But this time what Tommy said, took him by surprise.

"Are ya mad?"

"I just need her this time, Alfie."

"She will kill ya, mate."

"No, she won't. Your wife isn't a killer."

"Maybe. But the women around her are. Honestly, Tom, they're a pack of fuckin' bloody wolves claiming for men flesh. You're a little lamb entering the territory of a hungry wolf. Rosie is the leader of that pack, if she gives the order next time I'll see ya it'll be in your own fuckin' funeral... If I find your body." On the other side of the line, Tommy opened a drawer and picked up some papers and started to take some notes. Sometimes Alfie exaggerated, especially if he was talking about his wife. As far as Tommy knew, Rose Solomons just worked helping women in need and in the streets fighting for equal rights. The few times he saw her in Alfie's place she didn't seem to be a menace to anyone.

"They're just women, eh?"

"My Rosie isn't just a woman, Tommy. She's me wife." Alfie sighed "Rosie will decorate the fuckin' Christmas tree they put on her workplace with your balls."

"I'll take a risk, then. Just wanted to inform you."

"Fine. But I'm not going to tell her yet. I prefer she knows it on her own… good luck then, Tom."

1924.

Today. London.

It's only 7am and the Solomons were making love for the second time in the morning. Rose didn't know what her husband was thinking, or feeling, that he had waking up so passionated but she wasn't complaining either.

"Alfie… I can't… god…" her back arched and her toes curled once last time until she fell on the mattress, completely satisfied. She could feel Alfie finish as well.

The man stayed on top of her few minutes more, catching his breath, before rolling on his back, laying next to her. Alfie opened his arms and invited her to be against his chest.

"Are you fine?" she asked kissing his neck.

"Feelin' like a God now, luv. Why do ya ask? You're talking like we never fuck like this before."

"I ask, because I know that sometimes you use sex to channel your frustrations and I just want to know you're fine."

"I'm perfect, Rosie. Gimme some time and we can repeat it."

She laughed. "No way you still have energy, Al. I can't, I've to work. Tonight, maybe."

In response, Alfie kissed her. That same night, probably she wants to kill him. He had talked to Tommy the day before and she didn't know. Alfie was just trying his best to calm her before the storm. Although spending time with her, it was always beautiful. The kiss continued until she pulled apart slowly. He caressed her cheek. Rose knew that Alfie definitely was hiding something from her, but she didn't know what. After one last brief kiss, she sat down in bed and then walked to the bathroom to take a shower.

Alfie stayed in bed, thinking about his friend going to his wife's place. In all those years, over a decade since it was founded, he visited her school just twice. Once when it was inaugurated, when they met each other again, and the other one after the war. They had an implicit deal: "You don't interfere with my business and I don't interfere with yours" even if they asked each other for some advice, suggestions or help. He was a bit worried about her, even when he knew that Tommy wasn't going to hurt her.

When Rose went out the bathroom, she found him sitting in bed, stretching his back, ready to have breakfast. She approached him and played gently with his hair.

"Thought you're going to join the shower."

Alfie put his hands on her hips and pushed her down on his knees. She was wrapped with a towel and when Alfie kissed her shoulder, he smelled the fresh soap on her skin.

"Ya didn't invited me."

"Since when you need invitation?" she chuckled and put her arms around him. Her hands were stroking the back of his neck. Rose was staring at him, "are you sure you're fine?"

"I am, Rosie."

"Okay," she didn't believe him, but she wasn't going to pressure him either. Instead, she kissed him and he reciprocate immediately. Her towel fell on the floor and she felt him ready to be with her once more.

Never two without three.

Arrow house

By the dawn of the next day, every Shelby knew where the leader was going. If they had any opinion about it, they didn't share it. A car was parked outside Arrow House with three men in it.

"I'm going now," announced Tommy. His black coat was over a chair and he took it. "Johnny Dogs and the Smiths are coming with me."

Arthur chuckled. "Johnny Dogs? And the Smith brothers? Ain't too much, Tom? Four men to visit just a bunch of pussies and tits? They're just chicks."

"Not according to Alfie."

"According to fookin' Alfie! The fookin' Alfie! Ya believe him?"

"Yes. Alfie will never allow me to be near his wife, if he didn't know now that she's safe. I know that. And if she's safe that means she's surrounded by an army."

"Are ya planning to kill them?"

"I don't kill women, Arthur. And I don't want problems with Alfie. It's just in case."

"So take me with ya!"

"Arthur, no offense but you don't know how to deal with a Solomons. Stay here and take care of the business, eh? I'll be back at night, probably or tomorrow."

"Tom! Tommy!" the eldest brother yelled but the other man already reached the door.

"Goodbye, Arthur. Tell Pol, that I left her a letter under the flowerpot."

Pebblebrock was Rose Solomons' former manor and prison hell at the same time. Now it was a beautiful school for girls and at the same time it served as a roof for some women who had run from their abusive homes.

As the owner, she was the one in charge even when she had several women in which she trusted working with her side by side. But the final decision on everything was always hers.

Alfie, and Tommy too, were right. The place and Rose, were surrounded by women specifically trained to kill. It wasn't uncommon for men to try to reach those who they already hurt. The rules were crystal clear MEN ARE NOT ALLOWED IN PEBBLEBROCK. The ones who didn't understand the warning were now resting eternally in a cemetery.

Men were only allowed if they were doctors or priests. The institution had nurses and two nuns who volunteered to help there. But sometimes a doctor was required, same with priests. Any other men should call for an appointment, only under that circumstances their entrance were allowed.

"Look at this fucking place."

From the road, Tommy, Johnny Dogs and the Smith brothers were watching the entire property. The gardens extended beyond their sight.

"Full of pussies, it's my fucking paradise. An all-you-can-eat-fucking restaurant" commented Gregory Smith. Except Tommy, the rest of them laughed.

Rose heard the crows. That was never a good signal.

"Now who?" she thought for herself. A lot of names crossed her mind, but none of them was the right answer.

Five minutes later a knock on her office's door brought the answer.

"Who?" she asked not believing her ears.

"Mr. Thomas Shelby, Mrs. Solomons" repeated the woman in front of her. "He says he needs you."

"The Thomas Shelby?"

But unaware of who he was the other woman didn't respond.

"Yeah, well. Tell him I'm coming."

"There are three other men with him, Mrs. Solomons."

Of course.

The day was beautiful. Cloudless sky and almost no wind. It'd be perfect if not for Tommy Shelby in her property.

"Didn't you read the sign?" she said greeting them "men are not allowed here."

"Good morning, Mrs. Solomons," said Tommy with deep voice.

"It is, Tommy. It is."

It always was intrigued him that a man like Alfie could be so devoted to a woman who barely reached his shoulders. His Rosie. Alfie Solomons could start a war against the king and the Pope if something happened to that woman.

Gregory Smith had another idea.

"We don't follow rules, sweetheart. We're the peaky fucking blinders."

"The Peaky who?" Rose looked at the man "Who the fuck are you?"

"The audacity of this bitch. It's a Solomons, eh?"

"Gregory…" warned Tommy.

"Yeah. I'm a Solomons. Proud of it. But I'm quite dumb, Gregory. So I need your help, I only know how to count to two. Like, one, two… what's next?"

"Three."

BANG.

A woman stading behind Rose was holding a gun.

The bullet impacted his head. The man was already dead when his body collapsed on the ground. Rose just looked her pocket watch and then clicked her tongue.

"Men are not allowed here," she repeated. "You understand the warnings now or you what to be the next?"

Tommy looked at the dead body. The blonde woman behind Rose was staring at him and Tommy knew that she wasn't joking. One more step and it couldn't be any difference between a Gruyère cheese and him.

Tommy sent Johnny Dogs and the remaining man again to the car. He also gave his gun to his friend.

"Ya sure, Tom?"

"Just go, Johnny."

When Tommy turned around again, he saw the woman extending her arm, she moved her hand "gimme the fucking cap."

Again, Tommy did what she said. She gestured him to follow her.

The interior of her office was elegantly decorated. An expensive rug on the floor matched the wallpaper and the mahogany desk. Lots of books were perfectly ordered on the bookshelves. Rose Solomons invited him to take seat on one of her velvety armchairs. Tommy followed her with his eyes. Now his cap was over the head of a marble bust representing Aphrodite, just behind her, looking at him. The woman sat behind her desk and put her hands under her chin.

"We have a beautiful garden here. A greenhouse full of exotic flowers and plants. Was your man married? I'd like to send the widow some flowers."

"He wasn't."

"Better, then."

Her brown eyes never leave his blue ones and same as Alfie, he felt she was trying to anticipate his movements. But Tommy didn't express any emotion.

"So? What the hell is doing Thomas Michael Shelby here? My husband isn't here."

"Not looking for Alfie."

"That's fucking new considering the mutual obsession you have with each other."

Tommy curved his lips, barely smiling. "I'm here purely for business, Mrs. Solomons."

"I'm not the kind of person you do business with."

"You are."

Both of them remained in silence for several seconds. Probably she was unaware of it, but Tommy noticed some mannerisms in her that he had witnessed in Alfie before. She was thinking while playing with her fingers. Impossible to say who copied who.

"What kind of business? Illegality has no place here," she finally said.

"I need to know where a certain man is."

Before she could say something Tommy saw the door opening and a beautiful woman in her mid-forties, entered Mrs. Solomons' office. She greeted him with a movement of her head and then started to talk to Rose in French but she stopped her almost immediately.

"This isn't going to work now, Geraldine. The man knows french," she said pointing to him "same as Alfie he fought in France during years. Tell Edith to come. She speaks Hebrew."

Geraldine nodded before leaving again.

"You do that often? Speaking other language in front of strangers?" Tommy settled in the armchair.

"Don't you do the same? I'm sure that speaking Romani is very useful if you want to express something to a friend or relative but you don't want the other to know what are you saying. Don't judge me, Mr. Shelby."

Edith, Tommy asummed it was her, was barely in her 20s, probably she was still a teen. Young and with a cheerful face, the girl approached Mrs. Solomons and both of them started to talk in Hebrew, a language he couldn't understand. For a moment, Rose looked at him sideways.

"Thanks, Edith" she said and the girl left without looking at Tommy. "One of your men tried to sneak in my school. Or they're fucking dumbs or they're really ready to visit God."

"Fucking hell…" Tommy rolled his eyes before breathing deeply. He was sure it wasn't Johnny Dogs but the other Smith. "Listen, Mrs. Solomons, I didn't give the order. I didn't know."

"I know, he acted by his own. Good news is he's alive. Bad news is my girls are taking care of him. It depends on you what I'm going to do with him. Alfie knew you were coming, didn't he?"

"I called him yesterday."

Rose sighed "Yes, of course he knew. Of course he fucking knew," his actions that morning now it made sense to her. Not because it wasn't unsual for them to have sex in the morning, but because there was something in his eyes that his mouth wasn't saying. And after all those years together, Rose knew him very well. "Anyway… what do you want do with your man, Mr. Shelby?"

"Can I smoke?"

"If you go next to the window and put your hand with the cigarette out, I don't have any problem. But I don't want smoke here."

She saw how he stood up and walked towards the window. That one in particular faced one of the gardens where the rosebushes were. In spring and summer, the sweet smell of roses invaded her office and it was something that she really liked.

When that morning Arthur asked him why he took three men with him just to visiting a school and women's residence, Tommy was exploring his chances. Better Gregory Smith than him. He trusted Johnny Dogs, he was a loyal, obedient man. But the Smiths…

"Kill him if you want," Tommy finally said "if my man can't follow my orders, then he should face the consequences. This is your place after all, Mrs. Solomons."

"Edith told me he was screaming that he wanted to avenge his brother."

"Yes. The one you kill it was his brother." Tommy glanced at her. A ghost of a smile was on his face.

"I never killed anyone, Mr. Shelby."

"You don't need to hold a gun and shoot to be a murderer. Most of the murderers just give the order behind their desks."

"Well, he'd be alive if he hadn't been an asshole. It's all about the rules, Mr. Shelby. The sign is there for a reason and if you ask me, you don't seem very concerned about your man's death."

"Rules, eh? Something tells me you're not very fond to follow them, either, Mrs. Solomons. How was the prison?" Tommy blew another puff of smoke out the window, but kept looking at her.

"Pretty cold. Full of cooties and rats. I named one in your honour, that's a tradition that we the Solomons have. Name a goat, name a rat… How's Arfah, by the way? Alfie misses him."

"Thanks for the honour, Mrs. Solomons. Arthur wanted to come. I told him he doesn't know how to deal with a Solomons."

"Oh," she grinned. "And you do?"

"I'm pretty confident about it. It worked in the past."

"I have no doubts about it. But I'm not my husband, Mr. Shelby. I don't fall for a pair of blue eyes and a chiseled face and most of all, I don't trust men."

Tommy threw the remaining of his cigarette in a basket that was there and walked again to the seat in front of her. He crossed his legs and rested his hands over his stomach.

"Do you want to fuck me, Mrs. Solomons?"

"Yes. Just bring me a bottle of cyanide to accompany the moment. And then I want to hug a black mamba. Your place or mine?"

Tommy chuckled. "Wherever you prefer, sweetheart."

Far away from being intimidated by the confidence he was exuding, Rose just scratched her chin.

"Alfie accepted? I mean, if this is the way you deal with a Solomons..."

"Never asked."

"Oh, you should have. The answer maybe could suprise you. But, let me tell you something, Tommy. Can I call you Tommy?" he nodded. Rose left her armchair and approached the man. He followed her with his eyes. Her face was now in front of his, their noses were touching. Both pair of eyes were staring at each other. Tommy felt her breath on his skin "I know who you are, Tommy. Reputation precedes you. I know how you do business with women. But here's the thing: I'm not them. And yes, I'm a Solomons, yes Alfie and I we have lot of similarities. But I'm not Alfie. I'm not interesting in you as a man and if your cock is the only thing you have to offer me, you're wasting your time here… sweetheart." Rose inhaled deeply "God! I never killed anyone, but I swear the devil keep tempting me. How about having your head as a trophy hunting hanging on this office? But…" Rose moved her head back again "as I said, I'm not a murderer."

"Alfie is a lucky man, Mrs. Solomons," Tommy said once she returned to her seat behind the desk.

"Is he?" She tilted her head.

"Believe me." Tommy straighted on his armchair "and I'm sure If something happens to him, I'm sure you're going to heard the devil that keeps telling you to kill someone."

"Be sure of that. If anything happens to my Alfie, the only one who can stop me is Alfie himself. I hope nothing happens to him, EVER. You know about it, don't you?. Your late wife, we knew what happened. I can't imagine the pain."

"No, you can't imagine. But I'm getting over it." Tommy cleared his throat "Mrs. Solomons, I need information."

"In exchange of…"

"Mutual respect."

Rose snorted. "Yes, sure. Alfie could be delighted when I tell him. Information means business, Mr. Shelby. And whiskey is for business, innit?"

She opened a cabinet in her desk and put a bottle of whiskey with the Solomons logo on it. Behind her, were two glasses that she grabbed. A rose was engraved on them.

"I didn't know you drink," he said.

"Only in very few occasions. I prefer just tea for the rest of the day. So? You tell me."

Tommy drank a sip of whiskey before talking again. In his mind the image of Elias dead on the streets of Small Heath appeared again. Contrary to Gregory Smith, Elias was a good man. Her widow was pregnant and a payroll wasn't enough for the woman to compensate her for her husband's death. Yet, it was the only thing that Tommy could do.

"I'm looking for Mrs. Baker."

"There are several, Tommy. It's a very common name. Any details?

"It's an Irishwoman. I don't know her appearance but her husband killed her sister-in-law. It means his own sister."

"Sonia," mumbled her, "but the last name isn't Baker. It's O'Finn. Although she said that prefers her own surname. I'm going to keep that information to me until you tell me what the hell is going on."

From the murdered committed in Birmingham to the one in London's underground. Tommy told her about his suspicions that O'Finn was a member of the IRA and how he, Tommy, was now a target of them. Again.

"If that's true," she replied "then no matter what, your head already had a price and it's not going to be me the one hanging it on my office, but them. Nowadays it's very easy to send a message to the other side of the map. A telegram or a phone call… I don't understand why do you want to talk to this woman if he already communicated with his people."

"Because I don't think he did that. He's hiding. He's a fucking rat."

"Ok. Well, there's a lot of problems first. Mrs. O'Finn, she's not in conditions to talk. Even if she can, you're not allowed to be near her and this is not negotiable. These women are under my wing. Not you, not fucking Churchill can be near them. I don't give a fuck if you bring an order from the fucking president of I-don't-know-where. Understood? I have women specialized in talk to women with the kind of trauma that Sonia has, so, think about twice before suggesting another way to do this."

"The less people know about it, the better, Rose."

She pointed to the door, silently. Tommy sighed. "Fine. But I prefer that you can be present. And me too. Or at least I want to hear everything by myself."

"Agree. We have a place we can use. I need to tell you, or better say, reminder you that Sonia is highly traumatized. Yes, she's alive but the price she paid…" Rose stood up again but this time she walked to one of her bookshelves and picked up a carpet, although to do it she had to climb a ladder. "Tommy, I don't have this rule of "men aren't allowed" just because I'm fucking misandristic bitch, I'm not. I believe in equal rights. I fight for equality. I have that sign because people here, women, kids… are afraid of your kind. I have a register for every single woman that lived here since 1911 when I inaugurated this place. Open the folder."

Tommy obeyed and his first reaction was exactly what Rose hoped to get "Shit…"

The first page was the document of a woman who lived there in 1914 before volunteering as nurse in France, Rose never saw her again. Her name was Rita Brown, 20 years old. She escaped from her house because her father was an abuser. He ended up cutting her face marking a cross on her.

"I don't allow men, because we don't know what kind of bastard will cross that gate. Your man, that Gregory, he's not the first. Dozens before him, I'm genuinely surprised that if you talked to Alfie yesterday he didn't mention my women."

"He did."

"So you knew."

Tommy nodded and Rose studying his face laughed . Suddenly she understood. "You bring this bastard on purpose! You fucking did! You wanted him dead. Fucking hell, Tommy. I heard things a lot of things about you and I'm still impressed. The brother, too? You wanted me to rid off the other guy, too?"

"Why not?"

"Fine. I don't give a shit. One less." She returned to her seat and rang a bell. The same young girl called Edith appeared. Both of them talked in Hebrew again and Edith went out again once they finished. "We have an agreement, it seems. Now my payment."

Tommy opened his coat and placed two payrolls on her desk.

"I appreciate the effort," she said no looking at the money. "But I'm not interested it in cash, although if you don't want it. I can use it to buy something for the school like a new piano for the girls and some violins. A donation."

"I don't want it," he confirmed "then what's your price, Mrs. Solomons?"

"A soul for a soul, Mr. Shelby. I want a man dead."

"Who?"

"Churchill's right hand man."

Next part.

...so? 👀

#alfie solomons #tommy shelby #alfie solomons x oc #alfie solomons x ofc #peaky blinders #tom hardy #peaky blinders x oc #alfie x rose #Thomas Shelby #cillian Murphy

115 notes · View notes

persphonesorchid · 2 years

Text

Cupid’s On Holiday - KSJ

Summary: You don't get it, you're a damn catch. Anyone would be lucky to have you. You're smart, you're tidy, hell you'd give up your own kidney to a homeless guy if he needed it that bad. So what the issue? Failed relationships, blind date after blind date, and now your friend's competitive archery teammate is telling you he's Cupid here to help you find your one true love. You're not that desperate. He could take those golden arrows and shove 'em.

Genres: Angel!Au | Fluff, angst, smut, slight enemies to lovers, humor.

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, smut (fingering, protected sex), Oc's a bit of a downer but hey! Aren't we all sometimes! If I missed anything, let me know!

Rating: Mature (Minors, please, go away.)

Word count: 17k

Masterlist

Notes: A little late, but I made it before Saturday! I really really hope you guys enjoy this!! My contribution to @raplinesmoon , @kithtaehyung and @joheunsaram 's Catch Of The Century Collab! It's been a bit of a struggle to write, so show it some love! Also, you won't understand what I mean yet, but emotions are valid and you should feel them. Thank you to THE LOMFL @xpeachesncream for beta'ing for me, Nikki I love you so so much! Thank you for being there when I screamed about this fic when lightening struck and hyping me up always. Ly babie ❤️❤️❤️

Don't forget to leave feedback guys!! I'll love to hear your thoughts ( or crazy emotional rambles) Enjoy!!

Serendipity was in full swing; music blasting so loud you can feel it in your chest. Fellow club goers crowding the dance floor in a wild flurry of limbs and ill-timed dancing. You can barely keep up with the conversation Yoongi and Jungkook are having, you’re not even sure how they’re hearing each other over the music.

Clubs typically aren’t your thing, not one for the deafening music or the people who never knew when they had too much to drink. Tonight, though, you made an exception, meeting a friend of a friend for a date you were excited to be on. You thank your lucky stars you had the foresight to grovel at Yoongi’s feet to come with you, lord knows you’d be making your grand escape through the club’s back door by now.

“I mean, it’s not that hard, right?”

“That’s what she said.”

“Dude. Grow up.”

You chuckle into your whiskey as Yoongi rolls his eyes, waving his hand to direct your attention back to him and not on the way Jungkook was snickering. The flashy strobe lights waving mindlessly in the club catch on the silver of Yoongi’s bracelet and he rights his leaning frame, propping an arm on the table between you both.

“All I’m saying is...” He thinks hard for a moment, tilting his head to squint at the ceiling. You could tell he’s gone above his limit tonight; the rosiness of his cheeks visible in the odd flashes of light. “Man up. When he gets back, tell him he’s an ass and we can go home.”

“You know she’d rather die.” Jungkook mutters, draining the end of his beer, adding the empty bottle to the rest that was steadily growing the longer you all sat there. “Too nice.”

“Shit, you’re right.” Yoongi says, brows furrowed as though he’s just heard the most distressing news in his life, “I’ll do it for you. I swear if I have to sit here and listen to that guy ramble on about himself any more I’ll actually walk out into the street and stand there.”

“I don’t find you funny.” You deadpan, kicking your foot against his shin. He only whines, reaching for your bottle of water instead of brandishing his silver tongue at you.

Yoongi takes a long drink, eyes scanning the crowd, “He’s taking a long time to get back from the bathroom.”

Jungkook lifts himself partly out of his seat – having more vantage with his height – and looks around too. “Fou-oh...”

“What?” You perk up, following Jungkook’s gaze, but you’re suddenly blocked by Yoongi, who you didn’t even see get up. He shifts every time you’d move to look around him. You open your mouth to protest, but Yoongi’s hands land firmly on your shoulders.

“How about we just go? It’s late.” The furrow of his brow and the clench of his jaw tells a lot; he’s seen something you’d be better off not seeing at all and you simply agree. You take the hand that he offers, sliding out of the booth and Jungkook follows with a frown.

When you all get outside, Yoongi throws an arm over your shoulder, and you’re grateful for his warmth as the late night air nipped at your skin. You sigh, watching mist dance on your exhale, ducking your head a little to look at your feet. It’s quiet between you three, and you realize belatedly that you should’ve asked Hoseok to come too. He’s always good at distracting you.

Of course, you should have expected it to go this way. Another failed date that’s left you feeling worse than before, you think you’d might as well give up now, resign yourself to growing old and having fifty cats to keep you company. It’s been this way for a while, your last actual relationship being exactly three years and six months ago -- not that you’re counting or anything.

You stayed out of the dating scene for a while, focusing on yourself and being happy and content with who you are first before anything. Because that’s important, you can’t love someone else without loving yourself first. It was a good run anyway, until you became lonely and Yoongi’s dry humor and good cooking no longer sustained you.

You loved him, truly, but you missed the level of intimacy he couldn’t provide you with. Even though you loved when he made a big deal about cuddling and holding your hand – and frankly would rather shoot himself in the foot than say he liked that shit. You’re honestly considering making a pact with him to get married in the next ten years or something. You feel like that’s the only way to get out of whatever curse you’re under.

You don’t know if it’s you, or what. You’ve tried meeting new people, friends of friend’s, strangers from dating apps. Your dating life is quickly going down the drain.

“Hey, get out of there.” Yoongi taps his fingers against your temple, looking a little more sober now, even though his cheeks remain pink from the cold. He frowns at you, pulling you a little bit closer to his side, “Don’t think about it, okay?”

You can’t help it though, it’ll do no good in the long run, you know that. You’ve been feeling all sorts of low, and really you shouldn’t. You don’t need someone next to you to feel complete, to make you feel like the world’s finally spinning on the right axis. You just hate that you feel like you do; everyone around you seems to be happy and with someone and you’re here feeling like the hottest dumpster fire. You want to have rose tinted glasses to wear, too.

You wanted someone to hold hands with that wasn’t Yoongi or Jungkook...or Hoseok whenever he wasn’t working at the bar and using you as his wing-woman. You wanted someone to tell you you’re pretty and not mean it in a totally-best-friend way.

You sigh, long and drawn out, shoulders sagging as you watch the pavement pass by under your feet. The cracks in the gray stone representing the cracks in your love life that’s slowly drifting away like the ashes of the universe post Infinity Snap. Oh, you wished Thanos was actually here to snap you out of existence. You can deal with floating away into nothingness than dealing with the loneliness that’s beginning to cling to the edges of your form.

“How about we stop at the convenience store?” Jungkook suggests, linking his arm with yours, he looks down at you with a soft smile you couldn’t see. “Ramen on me?”

You can’t say no when you look up and catch his smile, dimples and all, and the three of you walk a little faster.

“Damn, everything’s just going up these days.” Yoongi grumbles, reading the label of a vitamin gummy bottle with a frown. You hum, reading your own set of labels listlessly a few feet away.

You’d long lost Jungkook somewhere in the depths of the large convenience store. He’d run off to find something and it’s been five minutes of you and Yoongi walking around and complaining about prices.

Yoongi puts the vitamins back on the shelf, twisting the container until the brand label faces him. You see him glance at you in your peripheral, see him walk a little closer until he stops at your side, “Doing okay?”

You think about it for a fraction of a second and shrug, throwing Yoongi a careless ‘Ok' sign, “Yeah, A-OK.”

You really just want to go home, watch a movie and forget tonight. Maybe you can convince Yoongi to watch that movie with you, and you both can share laughs over more beers and the pistachio flavored ice-cream that Yoongi hates.

The man himself doesn’t look convinced, and it shows in the raise of his eyebrow and the way he studies you. He’s always said you’re like an open book to him and he knows how to read the lines well – as much as you hate that – you appreciate that he says nothing of it.

You know it will come up later, not now while it’s still fresh, but when you least expect it. Yoongi purses his lips at you, shaking his head before tugging you along behind him as he walks on.

“Guys!” Jungkook's call comes from behind you both, and you and Yoongi turn to his approach, and the company he had with him.

The guy trailing behind Jungkook, for the sake of your mind that grinded to a halt at the sight of him, is beautiful. You don’t think you’ve called a man beautiful before, but there’s no other word that you can use. This man with his dark hair, eyes of the deepest brown, perfect plush pink lips and the widest set of shoulders you’ve ever seen.

You stand a little stunned, just staring at him until Yoongi nudges your arm and you realize that Jungkook is speaking. You can feel Yoongi’s eyes on you, briefly, but you know he’s itching to grill you and you’ll never live it down.

“Guys, this is Seokjin.” Jungkook smiles, waving a hand at his friend, “He’s on the archery team.”

Seokjin bows his head in greeting, “Hello.”

“Jungkook talks about you a lot. It’s nice to put a face to the name.” Yoongi says as you struggle to come up with anything that won’t give away how nervous you suddenly felt.

“This is Yoongi, and Y/n.”

Yoongi nudges your side again and you smile, “Nice to meet you.”

There’s a twitch in his eyebrow as his eyes focus on yours, and for a moment it feels as though he’s looking right through you. He’s looking at you, but his eyes are so intense you feel like you’re under a microscope, or having one of those weird naked dreams and nothing to cover your shame.

It seemed like the moment stretched on for ages, and you’re stuck in a void being watched by someone you can’t see.

Seokjin's lips pull into a smile and when he blinks, you do too. There’s something strange about the air in between the space you occupied, something unfamiliar but at the same time not completely unknown. You’re not quite sure how to feel about it and you’re not sure if the shiver going down your spine was from the AC.

When he looks away from you to look at Jungkook, you lean over to take the basket from Jungkook’s lax fingers – it was filled with way more things than you’d all come in for - announcing that you’re going to check out.

You and Yoongi leave them both talking, walking back to the front of the convenience store where the cashiers were. You’re wondering about what that could’ve been, teeth picking at the skin of your bottom lip, brows furrowed in thought.

“You sure you’re good, right? You seemed a bit gone back there.” Yoongi asks, unloading the contents of Jungkook’s basket onto the counter, shaking his head as he picks up a packet of mint gum and places it with the things.. “Well, actually, you looked stupid – and I don’t mean that in the way it sounds. You just kinda...blanked. Like the second you saw him you went outta your head.”

“Huh...” You look back to where Jungkook and Seokjin are still talking, still feeling watched even though he wasn’t looking. “Kinda felt like it.”

When you finally left the convenience store, a light drizzle had started. Your apartment complex isn’t far, less than five minutes from where you are.

Seokjin had parted from your small group, getting into a fancy black car parked at the curb after bidding you all goodnight.

The walk was quiet until you’d all gotten home, with Jungkook waving a little frantically at his door a good way down the hall. Yoongi made no move to get into his apartment next to yours, watching you fumble with your keys.

“Not going in?” you mumble, looking over your shoulder to catch him waving his phone at you.

“Nah, I’m gonna meet Hobi.” He says, “Need me to stay with you?”

You shake your head. Sometimes you felt as though you treated Yoongi like your therapist, he’s always there to listen when you need to vent, always being the shoulder to cry on. Always a listening ear without complaint.

“I’m okay Yoongi. Promise.” You smile, lifting the plastic bag that Jungkook had so graciously provided you with. “I’m gonna eat my woes away.”

Yoongi sighs, “You know you can’t say you’re okay and then follow with that.”

He steps over to you and hugs you a little awkwardly, patting your back. You appreciate his effort to sacrifice his comfort, even as you laugh a bit. “Text me if you need anything and I’ll come back.”

Relaxing in his hold, you sigh, “D’You think it’s just me? I mea-”

“-No.” Yoongi cuts in, rubbing small, comforting circles against your back, “Men are dicks. It ain’t you, trust me.”

He leans away, hooking his pinkie into the handle of the bag and shakes it a bit, “Eat and get some sleep, okay? Don’t go thinking too much.”

You wait until he’s down the hall and out of your sight to head inside. Kicking your shoes off, you flick on the lights and drag your feet to your small kitchen. You dig through the bag in search of your ramen, finding the chocolate popsicles Jungkook bought you.

Maybe you should talk to Yoongi about that marriage plan of yours. Just so that you’d have something to fall back on, so that later down the road when you’re sixty you’d have grandkids running around and not a few cats instead.

There’s a loud banging on your door that jolts you out of your sleep the next morning. The blackout curtains you’d bought a couple weeks ago were working, you have no idea what time it is. You also have no idea when you’d gotten to bed either, you remember eating the ramen and one of the popsicles.

You remember hearing Yoongi come home, the opening and closing of his door and the clink of his keys against the little bowl with the cat on it that you gave him.

You don’t remember much else, you certainly don’t remember crawling into bed or changing your clothes for that matter.

You groan as the pounding continues, rattling into the empty hallways of your sleepy mind and knocking on every door. Rolling over you pull your pillow with you, covering your head and willing the noise to end. Squinting at the little blue clock on your nightstand and the numbers that squint back, you lay there wondering who’d be knocking on your door this early on a Saturday.

“Police! Open up! I’ve got a warrant.” Jungkook’s muffled, disembodied voice filters through your apartment and you sigh, kicking at your covers because you know if you don’t get up he’ll stand there and ring your phone until you pick up.

Grumbling to yourself, you drag your feet to your front door and open it. Jungkook’s standing there with one hand raised, looking ready to knock again and too bright eyed for the hour. His other hand balances a coffee holder with four cups and a large brown bag.

“Don’t you have practice to get to? It’s seven am.” you step aside to let him in, covering your yawn with a hand.

“Good morning to you, too.” Jungkook rolls his eyes, wiggling the brown bag at you – the brown bag that’s doing a great job of concealing its contents. “I brought breakfast.”

You’re moving to close the door when a hand stops the motion and Hoseok’s poking his head into your entrance hallway.

His eyes are bright, even though he’s not a morning person, and his smile is brighter when he sees you, as it always is. He pushes the door open as you step back to allow it, coming in to wrap his lanky arms around you. “Heard your night sucked ass.”

His fingers tangle in the mess that is your bed head, but he doesn’t let go of you even as he tries to free them. He rubs circles into your back, and sighs, “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?” You laugh into his sweatshirt, the old one he kept from college even though it’s fraying at the edges and the blue isn’t as blue anymore. The one you threw up on the night Yoongi lost you in a crowd of college freshmen and you didn’t know your ass from your elbow.

“Someone has to, you know?”

Yoongi’s the last to come through your open doorway, shutting the door behind him, looking like he’d barely slept, dark hair sticking up at odd angles.

He frowns at you both, “Guys, c’mon. You’re blocking the way.” He pushes lightly at Hoseok’s back, making him walk forward still clinging to you.

“You’re gonna make me trip!” You laugh, trying to wiggle your way out of his hold. When you’re free of Hoseok’s cuddling, you trail after Yoongi and into the kitchen where Jungkook’s pulling carefully wrapped bagels out of the bag.

“What’s the catch, Jeon?” You ask, knowing that he should be on his way to practice right now. Not that you don’t trust the guy, it’s just that normally if Jungkook has practice, you won’t see him until it’s over and he’s back in the building.

“Can’t I just be nice and bring my best friend breakfast from her favorite cafe?”

“There’s always a catch.” Yoongi says as he plops down into a chair at your small kitchen table and Jungkook makes an offended sound at the back of his throat. Yoongi shrugs, pulling a coffee free from the holder and passes it to you.

“What do you need this time?” Taking the coffee from Yoongi, you take the seat next to him and Jungkook gives you one of the bagels.

“Can you drive me to practice today?”

Hoseok ruffles your hair as he passes, leaning around Jungkook to grab a coffee and a bagel for himself while Jungkook neatly folds the brown bag. “I’d take him but I gotta be at the studio in an hour...”

You hum waving a hand, “No worries.”

It’s ten am by the time you return back to your apartment. You’d stopped at the grocery store to pick up things you needed and had no choice but to lug all the bags up at once.

You would’ve liked to make trips, which you would usually do going up and down the elevator and getting weird looks from old Mrs Bailey two floors down. The elevator was once again getting serviced and you curse the stupid machine to the high heavens.

You take one step at a time, the weight of the bags digging uncomfortably into your fingers. You’re sure they’re red by now and you groan thinking about the way they’ll cramp up when you put the bags down.

“Need help?”

You almost drop your bags, body jerking in place as you stop to look behind you.

Seokjin is standing a few steps down on the platform between the flights, and you find it just a bit strange that you hadn’t heard him; footsteps echo in the stairwell. You don’t think much of it though; Yoongi walks like a cat and you can never tell when he’s behind you either.

You look down at the bags in your hands, giving Seokjin a light smile. “Yes please.”

He jogs up the remaining stairs to meet you, and you envy the bounce of his dark hair that falls perfectly back into place. He’s dressed more casually today, with a loose white tee-shirt tucked into black jeans. He gently takes the bags from one hand and reaches for the other.

“Oh, I’ve got these.” You chuckle the sound awkward to your own ears and you want the floor to open up and swallow you. Seokjin thankfully says nothing of it, though.

“Which floor are you on?”

“The one above us.”

“Oh really?” Seokjin smiles at you and waves his free hand, “Howdy neighbor.”

You blink at him, a little confused, “Huh?”

“I moved in this morning!” He’s already walking up and you step quickly to follow. “you know the apartment just before the staircase?”

“That’s great! It’s been empty for years. Hobi thinks it’s haunted because he says he keeps hearing noises.”

Seokjin laughs at that, the sound bouncing off the walls of the stairwell. His laugh’s kind of squeaky and it makes you laugh, too.

You both share a light conversation going up the last staircase, and it isn’t as awkward as you thought it’d be. It’s certainly better than last night when you tripped over your tongue just to say hi back.

Seokjin’s presence is oddly calming. Despite being a stranger, it feels as though you’ve been friends for a while. He’s telling you about how he’s planning on decorating his apartment while walking to yours, and asking your opinion on paint colors.

“White always makes a room look bigger. Could be too plain though, if you’re not into that.” You say, fishing your keys from the pocket of your jeans. He places the bags at your feet when you asked him to, “Thank you,”

“No problem,” He gives a smile, a small one that puffs up his cheeks. “Well...I better get going...lots to do.”

“Of course! Bye then.”

“If I don’t see you around, I’ll see you square.” With a very serious expression, Seokjin shoots you some finger-guns before walking away, laughing at his own joke.

You shake your head, chuckling to yourself as you unlock your door.

You throw yourself on Yoongi’s couch, which by the way, was way bigger than yours and way more comfortable.

You groan into the throw pillow, smacking your hand against the cushions. “Yoongi. You traitor. Who’s hand am I supposed to hold now?”

“Hobi’s always available for hand holding.” Yoongi mumbles, barely paying you mind as he gets ready to go out on a date. A Date! How dare he.

“His hand doesn’t get sweaty like yours does!” You turn your head, pressing your cheek against the pillow, “This is absolute betrayal. I’ll never ever forgive you.”

“Quit being dramatic.” Yoongi sighs, fastening the clip of a silver chain around his neck. You pout at him from your spot. “It’s only the first date. If it falls through you’re welcome to hold my hand for the rest of our lives.”

Yoongi doesn’t date often, you honestly can’t remember the last time he even mentioned having one to begin with. You kinda feel bad about your whining, only because you feel bad that everyone’s suddenly finding significant others while you suffer.

“I’m joking.” You say, sitting up, “You’ll be fine.”

“Thanks.” Yoongi smiles, all cute and gummy. “Now get out, I’m leaving.” He helps you up off the couch, grabbing his keys from the coffee table.

“You’re so rude!” You trail after him anyway, following him out his apartment. As he locks his door you poke his side, “What’s her name anyway?”

“Justine.” He glances at you, “Jungkook didn’t tell you? She’s on his archery team.”

“You met her through that rascal?” You scoff, crossing your arms, “You guys never tell me anything. When did you even have time to meet them?”

“Hey, I do other things when I’m not hanging out with you.” He walks you to your door, patting his pockets to make sure he has everything. “I’ll call you if I need to make a run for it.”

“Just go!” You push at his arm, waving goodbye, “Let me know how it goes!”

Yoongi’s in the elevator when he finally waves back, and you stay standing there long after the metal doors shut. Staring at your door, you sigh, you’re happy for him, really. Everyone else shouldn’t suffer with you.

“Hello.”

You startle, a frightened screech leaving you as you turn. The person behind you yells, too, backing away from you with wide eyes.

You press a hand to your chest and take a deep breath, “Dude. My heart almost fell out of my ass. Why are you sneaking up on me?”

“Why’d you scream like that? You scared me!” Seokjin presses his back against the wall behind him, a hand against his chest also.

He relaxes, hands dropping at his sides, and you do the same, laughing a bit at the situation.

“Did you need something?” You ask, watching as he steps closer.

“Actually.” He puts a finger up, “I came to make you an offer you can’t possibly refuse.”

“Huh?”

Seokjin straightens his form, smiling again, “I can help you.”

You blink, looking off to the side before your eyes settle on him again, “....help me with?”

Seokjin looks a little confused now, brows furrowing and he puts his hands behind his back and chuckles. “Your problem.”

When you stare at him blankly he sighs, “I can help you find the one you’re destined for.”

“Are you drunk?”

“What? No. I’m not drunk. I’m being serious!” He says, shaking his head, “Why do I always have to do this? I hate this part.”

He’s talking to himself now, and you’re trying to slot your key into your lock without him noticing. Maybe he is drunk, or maybe he’s one of those salespeople who try to talk you into buying shady things.

He suddenly looks at you and you freeze, giving a slow, awkward smile. “Um. Whatever it is... I’m okay. You should go lie down or something.”

“I’m not drunk.” Seokjin repeats, “Your friend went out on a date right? I saw him on the way up.”

That’s weird. Yoongi only left a few minutes ago, if Seokjin took the stairs there’s no way he would’ve seen him.

“I can help you with that. Getting a date, I mean.”

“Are you asking me out?”

“Not me, no.” He seems to think for a moment, “I’m actually the only person that can help you. I’m a Cupid. And it’s my job to steer you in the right direction so you can find that person.”

You laugh and he frowns, but what else are you supposed to do? He looks completely serious, and you wave a hand at him.

“Okay.” You say even though you don’t believe him, giving him a thumbs up, “That’s nice. I’m gonna go...and you can go lay down, okay?”

You turn quickly, opening your door and slipping inside. You leave him standing there, shutting the door behind you.

“...oh-kay...”

“I’m so tired.” You press your forehead against the cool wooden table. This isn’t really the way you’d like to spend your Monday afternoon, sitting in a café trying to finish up an article due next week.

The café you frequented is a bit crowded today, some either coming in to get their fix of hot drinks to battle the autumn chill outside, or either just taking in the scenery. There really isn’t much to take in, the cafe is a small hole in the wall on a street corner, with wet roads and people passing by outside.

There’s a park across the street that looks better in the spring, empty now that it’s getting colder and winter’s on the cusp.

You raise your head to stare at your half completed article. Cursor blinking mockingly against the white backdrop of the open word document. At least it’s due by next Friday, you have time to wallow in the writer’s block that’s been plaguing you for days now.

You stare out the window and sigh, watching the people and the cars pass by, watching the light rain that’s been doing nothing but falling all morning. You thought that getting out of your apartment would’ve been better, a change of scenery to help you finish your work. Now that you’re sitting in this crowded café, it’s difficult to concentrate, you don’t know how the college kids do it.

You’re quite bored by yourself, usually, your friend from work, Brinny would be with you. If you’re not working, you could at least pass the time with some gossip or some sort of stimulating conversation. Brinny had to be at the office today, and honestly didn’t have time to meet with you, so you’re stuck struggling alone.

“Y/n?”

You turn your head at the call of your name, the barista behind the counter is waving you over. “Your coffee’s ready.”

Getting up, you hobble over, reaching the counter to take your coffee. The barista smiles at you, closed lipped with dimples you want to sink your fingers into.

Namjoon was new, and you’re glad to see he’s getting the hang of things. You’ve seen the guy spill more coffee beans than he grinds and he’s burned himself so many times that you’ve been permanently worried.

You’ve also seen him staring, always when he thinks you’re not looking. You’ve had a few conversations with him on days when the cafe isn’t so busy, he’d always have some quote from a writer you’ve never heard of or he’d talk to you about art. He’s nice.

He’s cute. Even as he fumbles now to let you know that he put an extra shot of espresso in your coffee because you look tired.

You thank him with a sweet smile before going back to your seat, hoping to remember to leave him a tip.

You sit, squinting at the time displayed on the clock widget of your laptop screen, glancing over at Namjoon again who’s busy behind the counter. Maybe you should take matters into your own hands and just ask him out. Might lead somewhere, hell, you might even have a great time.

“I mean...”

Your head whips around to the person who’s suddenly sitting opposite you. Seokjin looks fashionable in a black coat over a white turtleneck sweater as he pulls a burgundy scarf from around his neck. He’s looking at Namjoon too, squinting at the man. “He’s nice and all but it won’t work out, trust me.”

“Are you stalking me?” You ask, still a little shocked because you didn’t see him approach, you didn’t even hear the chair move. He’s just there.

Seokjin chuckles deeply, the sound a far cry from his high laugh. He turns to look at you, “Me? No. I was just passing by and saw you. Thought I should say hi.”

“Hi. You can go now.”

“Wow.” Seokjin presses a hand to his chest, faux hurt morphing his features, “You wound me.”

“Seriously. Why are you here? Because it kinda looks like you’re stalking me.” You lean back into your chair, crossing your arms.

Seokjin tilts his head at you, expression serious as he simply stares. His eyes are intense, like the night you met him and you know that the shiver that runs through you isn’t from the cold; the café is warm.

“I’m honestly trying to help you.” He says after a while, expression unchanging.

“Right. ‘Cause you’re Cupid?”

“A Cupid. We are many.” He corrects you, putting a finger up. “Trust me, asking Namjoon out is gonna do more harm than it’s worth. Some things are just meant to happen in passing.”

You sigh harshly through your nose, closing down your laptop to stare at him without it in the way. “Listen.”

“You had a really great opportunity to say “Lend me your ear!”. I find that wording more effective in catching my attention, but I digress; speak away.”

You close your eyes and take a deep breath as his laugh fills the silence between you. Funny, just Saturday morning you were thinking he was kind of cute with his stupid jokes and his finger-guns and his stupid laugh. Now he’s getting on your nerves and he’s beginning to give you the creeps with how persistent he is about this Cupid thing.

It's always the pretty ones.

“Okay, look.” You raise a hand because you can see he’s about to open his stupid mouth to say something even more stupid. He gives you his full attention, leaning in a bit like he’s waiting to hear the secret to DaVinci’s code. “Do you...perhaps have a psychiatrist I can call for you? Or a guardian?”

His expectant expression drops, he looks agitated now and you’ll take that as a small victory. “I’m not craz....” Trailing off, he slumps back into his seat, “I give up. Why do I always get stuck with the stubborn ones? I’m just trying to do my job.”

He’s talking to himself again, loud enough for you to hear him. He waves a hand at you, looking out the window petulantly, “Do as you wish. Ask him out. I’ll be swinging by to say ‘I told you so’ when it crashes and burns.”

“You know. You definitely can’t be Cupid with that attitude.”

“A Cupid. It’s not just me.” He huffs, sucking his teeth, “Why am I even still here talking to you?”

“I could ask you the same thing, really.”

Seokjin side eyes you, slowly turning his head in a way that you decided at that moment was quite unnatural. There’s something weird about the motion, he’s weird, and that’s all there is to it. He’s no Cupid, and honestly kind of curious about what made him think he was.

“Go for it then.” He waves a hand in Namjoon’s direction, “Don’t let me stop you.”

You feel petty, but you also feel the indescribable need to prove him wrong, so you get up, chair scraping against the floor. “Fine. Watch me.”

Seokjin gives you an unimpressed look, sighing as though you’re the one making his life difficult.

You march your way over to the counter, now that the rush died down, Namjoon’s just sitting idly in a corner, phone in hand. He looks up at your approach, smiling sweetly.

“Hey, need something?” He asks, getting up from the chair he occupied to meet you at the counter.

“Um..” Abort. Abort! Namjoon is looking at you patiently, waiting as you wipe your suddenly sweaty hands on your jeans. You take a breath, “Are you free on Friday?”

“Huh? Y-yeah. I could be?” He looks just as nervous as you do, another small victory; you’re not alone! “Why?”

“I was thinking that maybe we can get a drink? If you’re okay with it?”

“Oh! Yeah. I’d like that, yeah. Let me just... I’ll write my number down for you.” Smiling, he goes around to the other end of the counter, looking for a paper to write on before giving up and grabbing a napkin.

You turn, ready to rub your pettiness into Seokjin’s face but he’s gone. And so is your coffee.

“Dude I mean...are you sure?” Yoongi looks skeptical, raising a dark brow at you as he wipes down a table. He settles chairs into their rightful spots, stuffing napkins into the fancy napkin holders. “Last week you were literally ready to cry over a failed date and you asked a guy out?”

“I was not.” You say, “Water on a duck’s back my friend. This guy’s actually nice, and I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t go off with some other chick halfway through our date.”

“Well, I thought that you’d just give it a bit of time before going again.” He pauses to look at you, halfway across the empty bar, folding the cloth he was using. “I know you want what everyone else seems to be getting – I’ve noticed it too, lots of couples running around like it’s valentines or something. But I think you should just wait it out.”

“Yoongi.” You whine his name, laying your head against your arm. “I’m not getting any younger.”

“I know.” Yoongi smiles at the offended sound you make, “Everything happens on its own time, sweetheart. Just gotta be patient. Wait a little.”

“But what if I just wait forever?” You mumble, picking at the skin around your fingernails.

“I didn’t say it for you to get sad, you know.” Yoongi walks over to you, he smiles gently, “If you wait forever then I’ll meet you at the end. You can hold my hand while we wait together..” He offers his hand to you, wiggling his fingers.

You give a watery laugh, taking his hand with a sniffle, “That was so corny.”

“Tell anyone and I’ll kill you.”

When seven pm rolls around you’re sitting at the bar, sipping on a rum coke that Yoongi gave you to calm your nerves.

The bar’s a little quiet, but you know that it’ll get rowdier as the hours go on. Yoongi’s sitting opposite you, picking at his nails in his boredom.

“I hope tonight doesn’t get busy. Hobi couldn’t come out cause he has some dance things to finalize...”

“It’s Friday, though...” You point to the door with a tilt of your head as a group walks in. Looking fresh out of the office in their business suits and briefcases. Yoongi sighs, hopping off his stool to go greet them.

You spot Namjoon coming through the door next, pulling headphones out his ears and smiling when he sees you. He reaches you in a few long strides, sitting next to you with a soft greeting.

You catch Yoongi’s double take, and the raise of his eyebrows but think nothing of it.

In the hour that goes by, the bar picks up and Yoongi has company behind the counter. Namjoon has you giggling and blushing every time he looks at you, you’d like to think this is going well.

You do the normal routine, getting to know each other, trading jokes. He’s easy to talk to and you like that.

He and Yoongi go way back – Or so he’s told you. You didn’t know this, but when does Yoongi actually tell you anything? – and they make easy conversation while he works. You’re not getting the looks Yoongi keeps trying to send you, though. You’re usually in tune with each other’s signals, but Yoongi’s been sending up smoke all night, because what does he even mean?

“You guys need anything?” Yoongi comes over for the third time, nodding at your empty glass.

“I’m good, thanks.” You wave him away, why’d he keep interrupting?

Yoongi sighs, moving away to help Jimin bring out more glasses from the back room.

“This was nice. I don’t get out much...” Namjoon says, rubbing the back of his neck with a hand. “I uh...wanted to ask you something...”

“Sure, what’s up?”

Namjoon looks a little nervous, playing with his fingers. “You know, last week when you came to the cafe? It was Wednesday, I think... You came with someone... Brunette about yay high?”

You know who he’s talking about before he actually asks. You sip on your rum coke just so you’d have something to do, watching as Namjoon gives a height estimate with a hand.

“You mean Brinny? Yeah...she works with me.”

You don’t blame him, Brinny’s a darling, an absolute angel. You feel like a complete clown, though. Maybe you’re cursed, or maybe you’ve pissed off some wrathful god in your past life.

You didn’t mean to visibly deflate, really you didn’t , but honestly, you’re tired. You feel like you’re stuck in an endless loop of ‘yeah, this isn’t gonna work out.’.

Namjoon pauses, eyes widening, “Oh God. This wasn’t a date was it?”

Ah, ignorance is bliss indeed. He looks genuinely worried, a crinkle between his brows as they furrow. Eyes round and a hand reaching out hesitantly, like he’s not sure he’s allowed to touch you even if he seeks to comfort you.

“What?” You snort, smacking his arm playfully. It’s the only way you can ease out of it so you don’t burst into tears in front of him. “No way! You’re a cool guy. I can totally put in a good word for you. Brinny’s nice.”

If Namjoon isn’t convinced - and you’re pretty damn sure he isn’t – he doesn’t show it. He nods slowly, smiling a little – a lot – awkwardly at you before throwing back the whiskey in his glass.

“Hey, slow down a bit, yeah?” Yoongi covers the top of your glass with a hand, frowning at you. You stare at his hand, at the rings that glint in the soft lighting of the bar with a pout. He quickly pulls it to him when you reach for it and instead passes you a bottle of water. “Drink this, sober up.”

“D’wanna.” You slur, leaning forward to press your forehead against the cool bar top. Yoongi taps your arm, and you make a disgruntled sound at the back of your throat raising your head with some effort. You prop your chin in your palm and blink slowly at him. “I wanna not exist right now. I’m so embarrassed!”

“It wasn’t that bad.” Yoongi scoffs, twisting the cap off the bottled water, he presses it firmly to your hand. The bar eventually died down, unusual for a Friday but you’re thankful. A whole lot less people to witness your downward spiral into self pity with the help of Yoongi’s fancy drinks. “I swear I thought you knew. I was trying to tell you.”

“What am I supposed to do with your blank ass stare, Min Yoongi?”

“Just drink the water.”

Yoongi leaves you be, walking away to greet someone that waved him over. You stare at the bottle with a frown before picking it up and downing nearly half. “Cupid must be on a holiday or something.”

“I wish.” Seokjin plops himself onto the barstool next to you, and you groan, because he’s the last person you want to see. You hadn’t seen him all week since you asked Namjoon out for drinks, you were just starting to get comfortable. “I could be somewhere nice and sunny right now. Instead I’m stuck looking after you.”

“How are you literally appearing out of nowhere?” You ask, a little sober now, enough to question the way he just randomly popped in.

“I’ve been trying to tell you, but all you do is call me names and hurt my feelings.” Seokjin rolls his eyes, “Enough about me though, I want to hear about your date.” He gives a cocky smile and you really want to punch it right off his pretty face.

“There’s nothing to tell.” You grumble, and Seokjin chuckles.

“I told you so.” He says, shrugging, “You wouldn’t listen.”

“That was a coincidence.” Your throat burns.

“Or was it?” Seokjin nudges your shoulder with his, “Why are you so stubborn?”

“Why are you so annoying?” You fire back and he purses his lips, raising a perfect brow at you. “I really think you’re stalking me. How’d you know I’d be here?”

“I was just passing by.”

“Right.” You huff, rolling your eyes before leaning forward, “I’m gonna be alone forever.”

“Well, if you’d let me actually do my job you won’t have to worry about that.”

Something hot is burning behind your eyes, throat tightening. You’re once again asking if you’re doing something wrong. You don’t get it, you’re a damn catch! Anyone would be lucky to have you.

You sniffle, swirling the water around in the bottle as tears blurs your vision.

“Please don’t cry.” Seokjin says, but it’s not at all comforting. It comes out in a ‘Are you serious?’ kind of way that only makes you want to cry even more, so you hop off the stool, shooting Yoongi a text on your way out of the bar.

You’re quite aware of Seokjin trailing behind you like he’s got nowhere else to be. Your phone vibrates somewhere in the depths of your bag but you ignore it, promising that you’ll just let Yoongi know when you get home.

“Can you stop following me?” You stop, turning around to face Seokjin.

“We live in the same apartment building!” He points in the direction you’re walking, rolling his eyes, “Is it a crime to go home now?”

“Well can you at least not walk so damn close to me? You’re giving me the creeps.” Turning on your heel you continue walking, and thankfully, Seokjin doesn’t follow until you’re at least five steps ahead.

“My offer still stands, you know!” There’s no reason for him to shout, but he’s doing it anyway. “This’ll keep happening if you don’t accept it!”

You stop walking again, bowing your head to stare at the concrete below your feet. His footsteps slow and stop too, waiting.

“If...If I say yes. Would you leave me the hell alone?” You sigh, looking over your shoulder at him. He’s standing a few steps behind, hands in the pockets of his coat.

“No, but I can leave you alone for the rest of the night if you want.”

You tilt your head back, looking up at the overcast sky. Hoping for it to open up and give you the answer to all your problems. Honestly, what do you have to lose? Best that could happen is that he actually leaves you alone after this and you can go back to figuring it out on your own. Even though you’d already tried that and well...yeah.

“Fine.” You mutter softly, and Seokjin jogs over to you quicker than you can make sense of his movements. “I accept your stupid offer.”

“Finally.” Seokjin smiles, prettily, the glow of the street lamp looks like a halo above his head and for a second, you really believe that he’s an angel. He sticks out a hand, “You have to shake on it.”

“Are you serious?” You deadpan, staring at his hand as though it offended you.

“Yes.” There’s mirth in his eyes and you think he’s pulling your leg, but you shake his hand anyway. “Great! I’ll see you in the morning then.”

You look down at your hand as he walks away, grimacing, “You’re so weird.”

When you look up, Seokjin is gone and you’re standing on the sidewalk completely alone.

True to his word, you didn’t see Seokjin for the rest of the night. You’d gotten home, stared at his closed door for a while, having half a mind to knock and ask exactly what you’d gotten yourself into.

You thought that, yes, finally, he’ll leave you alone for good. That today when you had woken up bright and early, you’d be able to get some work done, maybe even clean up the apartment a bit.

You couldn’t be happier to work from home, even though it offers more distractions than you're able to deal with, it’s better to write from the comfort of your own home.

Though, Monday you had to be in the office to discuss some things with your team manager. You know that he’s going to ask about how your article is coming along, so you want enough of it finished by then.

You’re sipping on your coffee, content to watch the world wake up from behind your window, and there’s someone knocking at your door.

Sighing you place your cup on the coffee table, taking your sweet time to walk even as the knocks get insistent. You’re expecting Jungkook at the other side, or Yoongi coming over to give you a piece of his mind for bailing on him last night.

It’s just Seokjin, though. Standing there in black track pants and a white sweater, dark blue recurve bow in hand.

“Isn’t that dangerous to walk around with?”

“Not unless you’re my target.” Seokjin smiles, “Get ready, you’re coming with me.”

“I don’t think so, I have a lot of things to do today.”

“You really don’t.” He taps your forehead with a finger, but you’re not quite sure what he means by that. “Please hurry. I don’t want to be late.”

He races back down the hall, stopping to knock on Jungkook’s door before heading to his own apartment.

“Tell me again why I needed to drive you two?” You grumble, car slowing to a stop in the parking lot of Straight Arrow Archery Center. Jungkook gets out with a quick thanks, jogging through the parking lot.

“So I can start today, the quicker I get this done, the quicker I’ll be out of your hair.” Seokjin takes his time getting his things from the backseat, “C’mon.”

He waits until you're out of the car, rocking back on his heels before he marches across the parking lot. You’re following with quicker steps, trying to keep up with his longer strides.

The local archery range was owned by their coach, and they practice indoors when they’re not in the back field during the colder months. A big looming building, with large windows and chipping paint. You’ve only been inside a couple of times, once when Jungkook’s team was going against a team from the city over.

The heat’s blasting in the building, and you rub your hands together to help them warm up faster. Seokjin leads you through the front entrance of the building, where they have different types of bows mounted on the walls. There’s a board behind the counter, pinned full of photos of past teams and flyers about the center and archery safety.

The back room where the range actually is, some of the archers are taking practice shots or sitting against the back wall getting ready. You see Jungkook securing his quiver to his waist, joking with some of his teammates.

“Are you any good?” You ask Seokjin just to taunt and he purses his lips at you, leading you over to one of the many benches scattered around the range.

You sit and watch him set his bow up, attaching the stabilizers, sight and clicker to the front of the bow. He slips the chest guard over his head, sliding his arm through the loop, when he’s securing the arm guard against his forearm he finally answers you.

“I can shoot an apple off your head blindfolded.” He winks, “If you get hungry or anything, there’s a vending machine outside.” With that he jogs off at the call of the coach, the rest of the team following behind.

“Alright you guys, we all know that winter’s coming up, so we have a couple of weeks left to train up for the last competition. After that, we have some time off before the regionals in February.” The coach says, clapping her hands, “So! During these last weeks, I’ll be picking six of you for the competition!”

You watch on, genuinely interested in what’s being said. Jungkook had mentioned regionals a few times, talking about his excitement and nerves. The coach goes on a moment more about what she expects from her team and a few changes for meeting dates.

“Alright, let’s do our best today!” She says, waving them off, “Teams of three please. Seokjin, you’re up first.”

You perk up more, eyes following Seokjin’s movements as he stands behind a marker taped to the ground. He pulls an arrow from the quiver at his hip, the fletching and nock a shimmering gold that catches the overhead lights. He nocks the arrow, pulling the string back to his cheek and aims.

When he releases, you barely see the arrow cut through the air, you only hear the sharp whistle and the dull thump of it hitting the target dead center. The team claps and you’re not far enough to miss their mutterings as Seokjin walks forward to retrieve his arrow.

“He’s so cool!”

Half an hour later, you’re scrolling through your phone, finally answering the million and one texts Yoongi sent you last night.

Seokjin’s skill with the bow honestly surprised you, the way he’d nock and fire off arrows with inhuman precision was actually terrifying. It almost had you believing his little tirade, just almost, you’d yet to be convinced by his claims of being Cupid.

Part of you does believe him, though, as much as you’d hate to even think it. There’s just something strange about him. The way he’d seemingly appear from nowhere, disappear without a sound and – you truly believe that it was a coincidence – the way he knew that pursuing Namjoon would not be in your favor. There’s honesty in his eyes when he speaks of it, either you’re easy to be swayed or he honest to God believes he’s Cupid.

A Cupid, your mind berates and you scowl, shaking your head.

“I didn’t think you’d stick around.” Jungkook sits on the bench next to you, digging around his duffle bag, “I can take the bus back you know?”

“I know, I’m actually waiting for Mr Sharpshooter over there.” You wave your hand in a vague direction, not too certain where Seokjin was standing.

Jungkook nudges your shoulder, “I see how it is.” He wiggles his eyebrows, “I’m definitely taking the bus home.”

“Now why would you say that?” You raise a brow, pocketing your phone, “Whatever you’re thinking, it’s not that.”

“Sure it isn’t.” He over exaggeratedly winks, quieting to unwrap a sandwich and take a bite. “He’s pretty cool, though. I approve. He’ll have a hard time with Yoongi though...” He says through his mouthful, brows creased - a little angrily - as he chews.

“There’s nothing to approve!” You push his shoulder while he laughs, almost choking on his sandwich. “Kook. Can I ask you something?”

“Hm, yeah. What’s it?”

“Have you actually ever spoken about Seokjin before?” You think about how strange it is, Yoongi mentioned that Jungkook’s spoken of Seokjin before. Now that you’ve asked the question, you realise that you’ve never once heard of him. Most of the time if you’re not by yourself, you’re with the guys, and they aren’t usually by themselves either. Though, it could be nothing, could have been a conversation you weren’t privy to, just something you missed.

Jungkook rarely talks about his practices, unless something big happens, like the regionals announcement or when he wouldn’t let you, Yoongi or Hoseok forget that he fired the winning arrow during the summer semi’s even though you were all there to witness it. Seokjin’s never once come up, you don’t think.

You don’t remember seeing Seokjin in the times you’ve visited the Range or at any of the competitions, though, he seems to be well acquainted with everyone, and no one thinks it’s strange.

Jungkook stops mid bite, brows furrowing out of confusion now – and not because he really likes his sandwich – he nods, slowly.

“Yeah? I think so...” He doesn’t sound as though he believes his own words, “Yup, yeah. Definitely did.” He nods more surely, “....I think?”

“Are you sure? Because...”

“Bad mouthing me? I’ve only been gone thirty minutes, that’s rude.”

You look up to find Seokjin watching you with a raised brow. He unclips the belt at his waist to remove the quiver before he sits down, squinting at you. “What?”

“Nothing...it’s nothing...” You quickly look back to your phone, replying to Yoongi’s recent text.

“I’m gonna get something to drink from the vending machine, want anything?” Jungkook asks, shoving the rest of his sandwich into his mouth and dusting his hands, you shake your head and he shrugs, “I’ll bring you back whatever, then.”

With that he leaves, lengthy hair bouncing with his steps as he makes his way out. You could feel Seokjin’s eyes on you and you slowly turn your head to face him, he’s indeed staring at you, in a way that makes you want to squirm and be as far away from him as possible.

“You have questions.” It’s a statement, because he knows.

“A few.” You nod, studying his features. He looks absolutely normal, nothing awry about him in visage. Leaning closer to him you ask softly for the sake of not being overheard. “Are you really a Cupid?”

Seokjin raises an eyebrow, watching you with thinly veiled suspicion, “What brought this on?”

“I’m just really curious.”

Seokjin hums, “I already told you, I am. I was extremely clear. Why? Change of heart? Or are you just trying to appease me by going along with it?”

There’s a hint of bite in his words, and you suddenly remember him saying that he gives up in the cafe, and realize, if he is indeed what he claims, you’re truly making his job harder. He’s like a venomous snake, poised and ready to strike if you misstep.

For a moment, you think it’s best to never get on his bad side if the slight irritation that darkens his eyes makes you feel cornered.

“I was just wondering.” You say, “It’s just strange how you just suddenly- I don’t think Jungkook knows you as well as he thinks. Yoongi definitely doesn’t know you either.”

“Ah.” He sighs, tilting his head curiously, “What I think is strange is that you noticed that.”

“You know... you’re kind of creepy. I think, sometimes it feels as though you’re normal but then it feels odd, like you’re an anomaly.”

“I’ll try not to be. But that’s just your senses telling you what you don’t want to believe.” Seokjin raises a hand to tap your forehead lightly with a finger.

You frown, “I’m not spiritual.”

“You don’t have to be.” He shrugs, “In terms for you to understand, I walk on a higher frequency than you do. Our energies are completely different, and it doesn’t matter if you are consciously aware of it or not, you’re going to realize that.”

“Okay.” You nod, trying to absorb the words that tumbled out of his mouth even though he basically dumbed it down for you. You’re still not certain if you believe what he says or if your mind is protecting you so that you just take it and run. “Why are you helping me?”

It feels silly to ask, but you’d like to think you’re not so deep and lost within the fog of your non-existent love life that a Cupid would take pity on you enough to step in.

“I hate seeing people struggle. It’s just so sad. You humans are like lambs without a shepherd; wandering aimlessly.” He sighs as though he’s in pain, before a smile breaks and his squeaky laugh follows, “I’m joking...partly.”

You roll your eyes, “No really, I want to know.”

“I don’t think you do.” Seokjin shakes his head, mirth lights his eyes still. Though you just stare at him, waiting, and he sighs, “I’m not supposed to tell you, but I suppose I already crossed a million lines telling you I’m a Cupid.”

He taps a finger against his chin, “I’m trying to get a promotion, it’s extremely important that we get this settled.”

“...what?” You frown, narrowing your eyes at him, “Are you joking?”

“I do find myself hilarious, but no.”

“I thought angels wouldn’t lie.”

Seokjin gasps as though you’d offended him, and judging by the look on his face you probably had. “When have I ever lied to you?”

“Just then. I’m supposed to believe that angels have what? A corporate system?”

“First of all, I do not lie. I just omit small things.” He pokes a finger at you and you swat at it. You want to tell him that telling a half lie is just lying while trying to seem truthful. “Secondly, yes. But I can’t tell you anything more on that, so don’t ask.”

You grumble to yourself, leaning back and away in time to spot Jungkook coming back with more than just drinks.

“He’s quite impulsive.” Seokjin chuckles, and you can only agree.

“Where are we going?” You trail behind Seokjin, down a busy street. Once again, struggling to keep up with his long legs.

“I’ve got a few potential candidates for you, all of which can work out though it mostly depends on your choices.” Seokjin slows down for your sake, “I’m not allowed to outright tell you who’s right for you, I can tell you who’s the wrong choice however.”

“Wouldn’t it just be easier if you told me?”

“It would, but it’s against the rules and frankly takes the fun out of everything.”

“You want to see me suffer?” You cross your arms, and Seokjin chuckles, shaking his head as he turns to face you. He plants his hands on your shoulders, hands drifting down to unfold your arms.

“I think you’ve suffered enough. All work and no pl-“ Seokjin pauses, looking past you. The change in his easy going expression is startling, the humor dimming to be replaced by anger, jaw tensing.

You take a half step away from him, wondering what could bring about his change of mood so swiftly. Curious, you turn to look.

A couple stopped just a few steps from you both, they're both dressed warmly to combat the weather. The guy seems a little shocked, enough that the girl you assume is his girlfriend asks him if he’s okay.

He offers her a smile, one that seemed a little nervous to you. He eyes you for a moment, with the same intensity that Seokjin sometimes does, before his eyes settle on the man next to you.

“Hyunjin.” Seokjin says, eyes flaring with something indiscernible. His voice is clipped, stare harsh as he takes a single step forward.

“Seokjin.” The man replies curtly, pulling his girlfriend slightly behind him, “How about we talk about this elsewhere?”

He motions a hand to the people passing by who was paying no mind to either of you. Seokjin turns on his heel, walking briskly and you stumble to follow.

Seokjin is unusually quiet as he leads you through the streets, and you wonder just who Hyunjin is to him for him to react this way.

You pass by familiar places, the café where Namjoon works, and across the street to the park that was suspiciously empty.

You’re afraid to ask Seokjin what the matter was, mindful of the way you can feel the anger radiating off of him. So you keep quiet, stopping when he does, and sitting on the park bench when he tells you to.

He keeps walking, stopping a good distance away, waiting.

Hyunjin sighs, placing a gloved hand against his girlfriend’s cheek. “I won’t be long, okay?”

She nods and he leaves, walking towards Seokjin. As she sits next to you, you offer her a smile, “Sorry, I hope we aren’t interrupting you two.”

“It’s okay.” She says, pushing her glasses back up her nose with a hand. She glances over to where Seokjin and Hyunjin are talking briefly. “Is he your friend?”

You snort, friend is one hell of a reach, “Fortunately not.”

“I’m Nikki.” She offers a hand that you shake.

“Y/n.”

“Are you out of your mind?” Seokjin’s voice raises and both you and Nikki turn toward them, “You can fall for this. She’s human, Hyunjin!”

Hyunjin walks away, leaving Seokjin to gawk in disbelief. They both look angry enough to ignite the air around them, and Hyunjin ignores the call of his name, eyes softening when he lays them on Nikki. She stands at his approach, taking the hand that he offers. He gives you a long look, “I’d let him cool off first.”

You can only nod, voicing a soft goodbye as they leave.Turning your head you watch Seokjin who was too busy staring daggers into Hyunjin’s retreating form.

You give him a moment, waiting until Hyunjin and Nikki are across the street, until they merge into the crowd. You sit quietly, toeing the stone path beneath your shoe, kicking at a pebble and watching it roll its way away from you.

Eventually, Seokjin makes his way back, sitting next to you with a long drawn out sigh. “I have a headache.”

“You get those?” genuinely curious, you ask, but the withering glare Seokjin sends your way makes you snap your mouth shut. “Who is he?”

Seokjin sighs, running a hand through his hair in a way that’s deceptively human. You’re once again jealous of the way the strands fall back into place like they weren’t disturbed, making a note to ask him what shampoo he uses.

“Hyunjin is...” he shakes his head, jaw clenching, “We’ve been searching for him for a year. A guardian angel. That girl is his charge and up until now they’ve both been missing.

He said that he won’t leave her. That he would rather fall because he loves her. Ridiculous. It’s wrong, there’s only one way that could end and it’s not going to be nice. His duty isn't to love her that way.”

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with it...” You mutter quietly.

“Of course you wouldn’t. You don’t understand, there’s no way that you can begin to. He’s putting her and himself in danger.”

He quiets and you do too, the air is still charged and Seokjin goes off muttering to himself. You glance at him and you can see that he’s thinking, fingers pressed against his lips as he stares at nothing in particular. It isn’t your business, but you ask anyway, “Are you gonna tell them that you found him?”

“I should.” Seokjin replies after a moment more of silence, “For now, though, I’ll turn a blind eye. I have more important things to do.”

“Right, yeah.” You nod, eyeing him carefully, “What were you saying earlier? Candidates?”

You’re not quite sure how people find watching sports exhilarating. Though, you’re here for Jungkook – and Seokjin - sitting on a bench between Yoongi and Hoseok, cheering as loudly as you can.

Its the last competition before the break, and if the Athens shoot the winning arrow, they’ll be at regionals next year.

You’d wished him and Seokjin luck before they’d left this morning, knowing well the latter didn’t need it at all. You know Jungkook was nervous, you can see him bouncing his leg even from where you are.

“Any bets?” Yoongi nudges your arm with his, passing you a soda, “I hope Jungkook doesn’t drop his bow or anything...”

“Nah, he’ll be fine. Seokjin’s on his team, there’s no way they’d lose.”

“You’ve been hanging out with him a lot.” Hoseok comments, and you spot him dipping his fingers into the pocket of his sweater only to come out with a gummy worm.

You wiggle your fingers at him, he side eyes you but gives you some anyway. “He’s cool.” You shrug, ignoring the soft snort that leaves Yoongi.

“Right.” There’s a knowing look that Yoongi sends you, one that you also ignore.

The teams take turns, women from opposite sides going first, and then the men, all scoring fairly well for their teams. It’s a moment again before the last shooters are ready, and they can either make or break the win.

Five minutes and a couple more gummy worms after, Seokjin is finally stepping up to his marker. If he scores a full ten, the Athens would take the win.

He nocks his arrow the way you’ve seen him done before, and the crowd quiets, waiting with baited breath. He takes aim and your squeezing Hoseok’s hand, he releases the arrow. There’s the sharp whistle, louder that the stands are still, and the sound of it hitting the target.

The folks that came all the way from your city to watch cheers the loudest as Seokjin and his team celebrates the win.

You’re all gathered in your apartment after the match. Though, Everyone had decided that celebrations would wait until the morning, desperate to get home and out of the cold of the winter air and into the warm houses. You just wished someone could convince the archers in your friend group.

Seokjin had insisted on doing something, claiming to be busy the next day. He’d drag you all off to the market, rushing you around to pick stuff from a crumpled list he pulled from the bottom of his duffle bag.

“Hey,” Seokjin says greets softly, passing you an opened beer with a soft smile.

“Thanks” You smile back, because he’ll just nag your ear off until he gets you to smile. Seokjin’s been in the kitchen since you all came back, shooing both you and Yoongi attempting to help, claiming culinary genius.

Your apartment does smell aromatic; filled with a blend of different spices. You know whatever Seokjin’s making is gonna knock your socks off. “You better wow me with your cooking. After you chased me out of my own kitchen.” You tease, and Seokjin chortles.

“Trust me, my cooking is unmatched.” He says confidently, chest puffing up.

You hum around the mouth of your beer, “Uh huh. You’ll have to prove that. No one’s better than Yoongi.”

Seokjin side eyes you playfully, poking at your stomach with a finger that you grab onto, “Yeah, Yeah.”

He quiets, wiggling his finger in your grip, “I wanted to do something nice.”

You make a confused sound in the back of your throat, because what more could he possibly want to do? He’s already helping you find the person you’re meant to be with, and on top of that, have the patience of Mother Theresa and you remain stubborn to a fault. Though, you suppose, he has his nature and you do too.

Hoseok and Jungkook are watching some age old holiday film, not paying mind to either you or Jin. Yoongi had long said he’d be back, though it’s been a half hour with no sign of your grumpy best friend.

“Wanna help me in there?” Seokjin points his thumb over his shoulder, and you raise a brow, “You can help me cut some stuff; I’ve only got two hands.”

“You sure you actually need my help?”

“She’s a disaster in the kitchen.” Yoongi suddenly appears behind Seokjin, a bottle of whisky in one hand and a plastic bag in the other. “I’ll help.”

You make an offended sound, “I’ll have you know that I am great at cutting stuff!”

Yoongi only hums, slinking off like a bored feline into the kitchen. Seokjin pats your head, “You know how to hold a knife, right?”

“Why are you cutting it like that?”

You look down at the cutting bored through the tears stinging your eyes, and you sniffle, “I could barely fucking see. I hate cutting onions.”

Yoongi shoos you away, taking the knife gently from your hold, “Go wash your eyes.”

You shuffle, partly blinded by the sting and tears in your eyes to the sink, arms stretched out before you as your only guide. A warm hand grasps your wrist, leading you forward, “I thought you said you were good at it.”

Seokjin’s voice holds amusement, and you don’t have to see him to know he’s getting a kick out of the situation. You want to tell him that your skill with cutting vegetables and the onion’s rhine burning your eyes has absolutely nothing to do with each other, but you’re too busy trying to find the tap with your hands.

He turns the tap on for you as you lean down towards the flow, and you feel his hands pulling your hair back and out of the way. Sweet relief comes with the cool stream of water rinsing the sting from your eyes, though they’re still irritated enough for you to dig the heels of your palms into them when you straighten. “Onions are evil.”

“Are they?” Seokjin gently pulls your hands away from your face, “Don’t rub them.”

“Tell that the itch driving me up a wall.” You’re a little surprised at how close he is, barely an inch away from you. The rhythmic sound of Yoongi cutting vegetables fades to background noise that you can barely focus on, distracted by Seokjin’s brown eyes peering into yours and the gentle way he swipes his thumbs under your lower lids.

“They’re all red now.” He says softly, and he seems distracted too, eyes filtering away from yours and somewhere lower.

“You guys want me to leave?�� Yoongi drawls, effectively breaking the moment, “I can do that you know. Just walk right outta here.” He’s pointing the knife over his shoulder, eyebrow raised, though there’s humour in his eyes.

You pull away from Seokjin’s hands, clearing your throat, “Can I finish cutting the onions now?”

“No, but you can start on the bell peppers for me.” Seokjin hands you a small glass bowl with yellow and red peppers, and you do your best to ignore his fingers brushing yours.

When dinner was ready, the four of you gather at the table, trading laughs and stories and you feel content in this moment. Watching your boys be happy, and Jungkook laughing so hard he chokes only to be scolded by Yoongi. Seokjin next to you, close enough that you can feel the warmth of him.

You wonder how it’ll be once his job’s done and he leaves, would you miss him? He’s still as weird as you thought he was that time you met him in your hallway. You’ll miss his laugh, and the way he can comfort you without trying, you’ll miss him doing his best to make you happy even when he doesn’t have to.

The way he pulled you close when one of your first dates went wrong even with his meddling.

You’ll miss him.

Seokjin’s grown quite fond of you, he thinks, a dangerous thing, he believes. Over the weeks that passed, he’s successfully done his job; setting you on the right track to find your person.

The first couple of dates, Seokjin seeked out people you were familiar with, rather than strangers.

He’d stay close by at all times, observing from a distance. On the days when you’d rather not do anything, Seokjin would meet in your apartment. He’d never tell you that the thing’s you’d have him get up to weren’t what he’d consider fun. He’d go anyway, content to watch you instead of whatever movie you’d convinced him to watch with you.

That’s when he realized it.

Funny, really.

Seokjin has seen love before, as it is, his duty was to bring those who are fated together by a series of coincidences. A meet-cute here, a spilled coffee there, even going as far as to reunite friends who've grown up and apart from each other. He’s seen how love can make people bloom like flowers in the spring, and change like seasons together.

He’s seen love make people go distances they’d have never dared to otherwise. He’s seen it in simple words and touches, grand and minute gestures.

So, Seokjin knows what love is when he feels it. It’s that feeling he gets in his chest when you smile, poking fun at him because there’s always something that’s so distinctively human he would never understand. Strange now that it makes him happy, you’re at a point where you no longer deny him being your friend when other people ask, when you take his teasing in stride like friends do.

You’re happier now, despite the trial and error and the hoops you have to jump through to get where you want to be.

It’s the way your hand felt in his when you held it for the first time. It was after one of your many dates, a Saturday evening when the sun was already dragging the moon into the sky.

First snow, and you’d both sat on swings in an empty park far away from where you’d normally venture. Crystalline flakes fluttered into your hair and melted on your clothes. He’d given you his scarf before you could start to shiver.

He’d been content to watch you then, boots kicking at the snow that was piling up quickly.

Watching the way you found joy in a snowflake landing on your nose, and the way you’d try to catch them with your tongue. On the way out of the park, you held his hand because there was ice on the ground and you didn’t want to slip.

Even through the layer of your gloves Seokjin felt the warmth of your skin. He’s way beyond being flustered by such a thing, but heat climbed his neck and flushed his cheeks and he blamed it on the cold.

Seokjin felt something curl around his heart tightly, and he couldn’t ignore it anymore. He understands Hyunjin now, he thinks, his words play on his mind more frequently these days. Unlike Hyunjin, though, Seokjin is too rooted to his place.

The dangers that would come from you and him being anything more than what you are now are too great for Seokjin to risk it. He knows well what would come of it, and it’s nothing good. You would have to spend the rest of your life hiding from the seeing eyes of others, and the forces that will undoubtedly tear you apart.

Seokjin doesn’t want that for you. You will be more unhappy than you’ve ever been. Forced to remain in shadows even when Seokjin represents a light greater than man could ever create. It would be selfish of him to want it, to go through with it as though he’s not making you suffer.

There’s a lump in his throat as he swallows, as he looks at you now, sitting next to him, with not a care in the world.

You glow brightly, like a star, burning hot in the far distance. Far, far off. And just like a star, you’re something he could never reach, even with all his prowess; you aren’t his to hold.

Though he wants to, and it hurts that he can’t.

“Jin.” You call his name softly, and Seokjin realizes that he’s failed. It’s the first time he’s ever felt so defeated.

He’s seen you, too. The way you’d try to pretend that his feelings aren’t yours as well. He knows. He’s seen love enough to know.

The way you’d flush at your friends’ teasing, but would not deny it. The way you’d watch him as though you’ve found something that you’ve been searching for.

“Are you okay?” Your concerned tone made him realize that he’s turned to look at you, but he’s not said anything. He nods, a little unsurely and you have a right to not look convinced.

You’re different now than you were when Seokjin met you. When he’d planted himself into the memory of your friends for the sake of his task. Truly, he wasn’t supposed to, he was supposed to do his job from a distance, never to interfere. He’s watched you go on date after date and all his arrows would fall short of their target.

So, he did the most sensible thing and got directly involved. He was supposed to be finished already, it was supposed to be quick. He’s lingered too long, and now he's sunk so deeply into clear waters that it's turned to mud. He’s unwilling to lead you to the one you’re destined for – even though he knows who it is – and he’s unwilling to let himself be the one to love you instead.

His duty isn’t to love you, he knows this.

“I’m okay.” Angels aren’t supposed to lie, but he did, and he has been for a while. Trying to convince himself that he wasn’t falling in love with you.

“You’re lying.” You say, knowingly. How far have you come to be able to read him like this?

“I’ve never once lied to you.” Seokjin says, and it’s without his usual mirth. You give him a questioning look and not much else, nodding your head slowly.

“If you say so...”

Seokjin simmers in his thoughts for a while, glancing at you when you laugh at something silly.

“Y/n,” He calls softly, and you hum, turning to face him. Seokjin takes a breath, “I have to leave.”

“Right now? The movie isn’t even finished yet.”

“I know...” Seokjin sighs, running a hand through his hair. He stares at the TV screen, not really paying attention, watching a young girl ride a dragon to a far away place. He never understood your reason for having a TV in your bedroom, but it’s quite convenient for comfort.

He could just leave quietly, slip out of your apartment and out of your life without a word. It doesn’t feel right to do so without telling you, though.

“I won’t be back.” Seokjin waits for his words to settle, as the movie fades to background noise and he watches as realization dawns on you.

“Wait, you’re leaving?” You ask, voice pitching at the end, you stand and he does too, “But you haven’t – You can’t leave.”

“I have to.” He places his hands on your shoulders, trying to calm the storm before it blows in. It’s not helping, he knows, as you take a step back.

“Tell me why.” You demand, and Seokjin sees the tears in your eyes before they fall. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, no. You didn’t do anything. It’s me.” Seokjin sighs, “This...this was a mistake. I never should have gotten involved.”

You call his name then, with so much pain that Seokjin feels his heart shatter in his chest. He hates it. He hates that even doing this, he still manages to make you unhappy, he’s the cause of your uneven breaths and the tears that race their way down your cheeks and he hates it.

“I’ll make sure you find them. I promise.”

“But I don’t want that! I love you. You can’t just leave.”

Seokjin lets his hands fall to his sides, staring at a spot somewhere above your head to avoid looking you in the eye. He knows what you want, of course he does, because he wants it to. You've gone and said it and that only makes things harder.

“Y/n.” He says your name firmly, and you snap your mouth shut, shoulders shaking still as you try to put an end to your tears. He takes a step closer, raising a hand to cup your cheek, “We can never be. It’s not meant to be this way.”

“Please don’t go.” You whisper, fingers curling around his wrist. “Please stay.”

His resolve is breaking. The longer he stays the harder it’ll be to walk away. Sighing he wraps his arms around you, holding you as you shatter.

Seokjin presses a kiss to your forehead and your eyes in turn, chasing away the remainder of your tears. There’s sadness still in your eyes when you open them, he tilts your head back to capture your lips softly with his.

“I’m not going anywhere.” He says, wiping away tears that still fall.

“Do you promise?”

Instead of answering, Seokjin kisses you again, hands slipping under the warmth of your sweater to meet your soft skin. He feels the shiver that runs through you, and he wonders if his hands are cold. You call his name softly and he gently quiets you, tugging lightly at the hem of your sweater, “Can I take this off?”

You nod and Seokjin helps you wiggle your way out of it. He doesn’t think of the consequences – he doesn’t want to, so he allows his mind to blank. He’ll give in only this once, he’ll give himself to you for the first and last time, no matter how selfish it seems.

He kisses you slowly, making a map of the marks he leaves against your skin. He wants to tell you everything, he wants to take every step with you, meet you somewhere along a coast where nothing matters. But here, he’ll steal this moment and keep it with him forever, until the pain of it fades and he could look back on it fondly.

He quiets the small sounds you make with his mouth, hands bringing your legs up to wrap around his waist. You fit perfectly below him, like a puzzle piece of a puzzle he’s been trying to find.

He props himself up on his hands, gazing at you, “You’re so beautiful.” He leans down, brushing his nose against you, lips finding yours again.

There’s a storm raging outside, wind sending snow pattering softly against your window. Seokjin tries not to let his mind wander, not when you're beneath him and so warm. Your skin is warm, your scent invades his senses and you’re the only thing he could see and Seokjin feels like crying. There’s something in the back of his mind that’s screaming at him, jarring and loud, that he should savor this moment because he’ll never have it again.

He pulls away from you, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your leggings, “I’m taking these off, okay?”

Your knee nudges his side, “You first. You’re still dressed.”

Seokjin chuckles, quickly pulling his sweater and the tee-shirt he wears over his head, “Now we’re even.”

He stands to step out of his sweatpants, allowing you a moment to strip the rest of your clothes on your own. He settles next to you, fingers tracing patterns against the soft skin of your inner thighs, touching lightly just to watch your eyes flutter shut and your nipples stiffen into peaks when he blows air over them. He marks you with his teeth and his tongue, taking a nipple into his mouth, hand stilling when you raise your hips to meet it.

“Impatient little thing.” He mutters, but cuts your pleading whine short, fingers finding where he knows you want him most, groaning at the wetness he finds. He rubs slow circles against your clit and catches your moans with his lips. When he’s teased you enough, when your desperate moans of his name is enough to make him rut his growing erection against your hip, he sinks his fingers into your heat, thumb never leaving your clit.

He curls his fingers against a spot that makes you cry out, your arousal drips into his palm, and he sucks bruises into the skin of your neck. Seokjin’s hips jerk forward when your fingers curl around his cock, squeezing around the base, “Fuck.”

Your other hand stills his and he pulls away to look at you, pupils blown and eyes heavily lidded, chest rising and falling with your breaths. “Can we just...”

“It’s been a while for you, right?” Seokjin asks softly, slowly resuming the thrust of his fingers, at your nod there’s a smirk on his exhale, “It’ll hurt if I don’t. Gotta stretch you out first.”

He can feel the way your walls tighten and flutter around his fingers, feel the way shudder, moans rising his pitch. “Jin- fuck, I’m so close.”

“Already?” Jin tilts his head, tone teasing. He kisses you, tongue sliding against your own, “Let go for me, baby.”

Your gasp is followed by a drawn out moan, curses and unintelligible words on the end of it. Seokjin watches you tip over the edge, unable to help the motion of his hips thrusting his cock into the loose grip your hand had around it. Removing his fingers from your heat, he lets you catch your breath, pressing a kiss to your temple, “You did so well baby, so good for me.”

Seokjin pulls away, placing a fleeting kiss on your shoulder, “Do you have condoms?” He asks, rubbing a hand on your trembling thigh. He would’ve thought you’d passed out if it wasn’t for the limp way you motion to the bedside table.

You peek an eye at him, “I’m clean if that’s what you’re worried about.” You murmur, and Seokjin smiles, shaking his head.

“That’s good to know sweet girl, but it’s not that. You don’t want what I can give you, trust me.” Seokjin turns to rummage through your things, finding the box tucked into a corner, “It’ll be hell if something unexpected happens. We’ll have a very big problem on our hands.”

“Oh, you mean...”

“Yes. It’s best if we avoid that.” He tears the glossy wrapper with his teeth, moving back to you, he kneels between your open legs. He slides the condom on and you prop up on your elbows to watch, when Seokjin’s eyes flicker up, he could see the hint of worry in yours. He raises a hand to brush your cheek with his fingers, “I’ll go slowly.”

He’s mindful of his size and how long it’s been for you as you settle again, one hand gently gripping your hip, he keeps his eyes on you, watching your every expression. He drags his cock against your sopping cunt, hand holding steady, he leans down to slot his lips to yours, “Ready?” He whispers, waiting until you nod.

A groan leaves him as he enters you, and your fingernails scratches red into his shoulders. He buries his face against your neck, teeth nipping at the skin he could reach, giving slow shallow thrusts until he bottoms out. You’re so warm and tight around him, he takes the calls of his name as prayer, you cling to him as though he’d disappear, and Seokjin thinks that some part of you knows.

Nothing you can say or do will make him change his mind, but he’ll allow you this moment. This moment where it’s just you and him and nothing else, where he can easily show you how he feels without promising anything more.

He thrusts slowly, wanting the moment to last for as long as it can, knowing that he will go on and remember this, and you, when the morning comes you would never know that you’ve loved and been loved.

This way, it’s better, it’ll be easier knowing that one day you’ll find what you need in someone else that isn’t him, without ever knowing what you mean to him at all. Things will return to the way it was meant to be, with him watching from a distance, guiding you in the way he was supposed to from the start.

Seokjin wills the tears behind his eyes to go away, and tells his mind to shut up.

Your name is a sigh on his lips, a prayer that when the time comes he could walk away. Your hips rise to meet his thrusts, and Seokjin loses his fingers in your hair, holding you closer because it’s all he could do as you grow ever tighter around him. He chases his end as you find yours, lips crashing against yours sloppily when he stills, release spilling into the condom.

“Are you okay?” Seokjin asks after a moment, when the room doesn’t feel like a sauna, and he’s finished cleaning you and himself up. Brushing back your hair that hides your eyes from his view, you kiss his palm and Seokjin tries not to let his sadness show in his smile.

“I’m okay. Can we take a shower? I feel gross.” You laugh, already getting up to walk to your closet, you throw a towel at him and he catches it.

“That’s rude, we don’t throw things.” Seokjin trails after you, taking your hand in his because he needs to be grounded right now and not think about what he has to do.

When you stir the next morning, the other side of the bed is cold, but Seokjin’s sitting at your side, brushing your hair away from your eyes.

“You’re still here?” You murmur, smiling sleepily. You open your eyes a bit to see him fully dressed in last night’s clothes.

“I’m here.” Seokjin smiles sadly, massaging your scalp with his fingers, “I have to go.”

You pull away from him to sit up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes with a hand, “Are you coming back?”

He watches you quietly for a moment before he shakes his head, “I can’t.” He takes your hand and squeezes gently, “This...we can’t.” He sighs, frustrated, knowing what he has to say, what he needs to do.

Seokjin has spent thousands of years watching the rise and fall of mankind over and over, doing his duty as a Cupid to bring those who are fated together. He’s seen heartbreak, he’s seen how it shatters a person’s very being, now he knows what it feels like as he watches tears gather in your eyes because you know, too.

“Don’t go. Please. We can make this work, Jin. Please.” His throat feels tight, something is squeezing his chest and he hates it. He hates that you’re crying because of him, because he’s breaking your heart. “Please stay.”

“I can’t.” Seokjin whispers this, pulling you closer when you reach for him, the sound of your sobs etches into his core and they cut deep. He’s held you, a star, and you’ve burnt him now. Stars burn the brightest as they die, giving their all in the last moment of their lives, and like a star he watches as you implode.

Sometimes though, stars don’t always turn into black holes when they die, sometimes they scatter into matter and burn dimly forever. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“Why? Why’d you let me fall for you?” You hiccup, pushing at his chest and Seokjin lets you, letting his hands drop at his side. “You knew that this was going to happen and you let it happen!”

Your tears are angry now, but still so sad, and you slap weakly at his arms. “Why?”

“I’m sorry.” He cups your cheeks with his hands, thumbs catching your tears. He wished it wasn’t this way, he wished that things were different, that maybe, you could’ve met him under different circumstances. That he wasn’t him, but you were still you. He wasn’t expecting it, like most things, it simply happened.

He kisses you while you cry, your fingers curl tightly into the material of his sweater, “I’m sorry. You have to forget me.”

You pull away from him completely, tears flowing faster now, “No.”

“Y/n.” He sighs.

“You can’t do that. What gives you the right?” You escape his reach, moving to the other side of the bed where you get off, turning to face him, “You can leave. You can go and pretend that this never happened. You can’t make me forget, I don’t want to forget you.”

Sighing Seokjin gets up too, walking around the bed to you. You step backwards until you have nowhere to go, back against the wall. “I have to.”

“No, you don’t.”

“So stubborn.” Seokjin clenches his jaw, his head hurts and he wants this to be over. The longer he stands here having this conversation, the harder it will be to follow through. He walks until he’s in your space, hand finding your cheek again. “Why are you always so stubborn?”

“Jin.” You whisper his name and his heart breaks, “Please.”

“Are you ready to spend the rest of your life knowing that we can never see each other again? Knowing me will put everyone you care about in danger. There’s no chance. It’ll break you and I’d rather not have that happen.” Seokjin says, “This was never supposed to happen. We weren’t meant to happen.”

“I don’t want to forget.” You repeat, stubbornly. “Please don’t make me forget.”

Seokjin leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead, his fingers already at your temple before you have the chance to stop him. He leans away, just watching you, memorizing your features as though he’d ever forget. “I love you.”

You finally quiet, staring at him with wide eyes, “Jin.”

“I’m sorry.” You fall limp and Seokjin catches you before you can hit the floor, holding you to him as the dam breaks and he cries. He cries for the moments he’s shared, the moments you would now live never to remember, he cries because he knows what heartbreak is and he feels it. “I’m sorry. I love you. I’m sorry.”

After he places you back into bed, he makes sure that nothing belonging to him remains. Seokjin walks slowly out of your apartment, looking around at everything because it’s the last time. There’s no way he can come back here, he needs to go as far away as he possibly can.

Softly, he closes your door behind him, and every step he takes he feels as though his heart is being pulled out his chest. He makes it all the way down the hall, and into the elevator when Yoongi steps out of his apartment. He looks at Seokjin for a moment, no sign of recollection whatsoever. The last thing Seokjin before the doors slide close is Yoongi opening yours and going in.

“Y/n. Why the fuck are you sleeping with the window open? Are you trying to get sick?” Yoongi stomps his way into your bedroom, pulling your window shut. He turns to look at you as you sit up, “Hey. Why are you crying? What’s wrong?”

“Hm?” You hum, confused, wiping your fingers under your eyes, “I...I don’t know? Must’ve been a dream?”

“Can you get ready in ten minutes?” Yoongi boldly rummages through your drawers, throwing clothes your way. “The café has deals on donuts and I wanna get some before they sell out.”

He walks to your door, while you sit, still sleepy, still confused. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah...I just...I feel like I’ve lost something.”

Broke your heart? Read the What If sequel drabble - Here

Tagging: @xpeachesncream @bangtansmauyeondan @taestefully-in-luv @blog-name-idk @madbutgloriouspond @euphoricfilter @luaspersona @mssukeyna @matchstick6812 @jinsquishes @allhobbitstoisengard @eren-fall @dontstoptime @eoieopda

424 notes · View notes

murderofsomeone · 11 months

Text

art related boundaries/concerns

(making this post since I've been getting a lot of questions lately)

hi I'm an adult. please take this within that context.

using my art for pfps/profiles is fine, credit is optional but preferred. this doesn't apply to ocs: please ask first and always credit

drawing my ocs/designs is always fine and encouraged

don't reupload my art without asking. i'm ok if you're just like. sending it to someone, idgaf, just as long as it's private

don't sell my art

don't remove watermarks. I understand they sometimes get cropped out for formatting reasons but that's about the only thing I'll excuse

don't draw nsfw content of my characters/designs/stories. don't send it to me either if you find any

don't put my underage characters/designs in weird situations, especially genderbending and aging them up (if I make an adult design of them that still doesn't give you the right to be weird)

making fanfiction, crossovers, and aus of my stuff is pretty rad. if you want to make one go ahead, just remember to be respectful

I don't have any strong opinions about people kinning my characters/designs, so it's all good. just remember to be respectful

I feel kinda weird about people headcanoning sexualities, gender identities, disorders, ethnicities, etc to my characters/designs. a lot of these things are already set in stone and I'd prefer you just ask. (if you're a friend/mutual I don't mind as much)

I'm ok with people asking for alternative versions of drawings (ie: removing the text or background). the only exception is if it's too much work to bother

I really don't mind questions about my characters/designs/stories. it isn't annoying and I do appreciate opportunities to talk about them

practice common internet etiquette by not sending weird sexual comments directed to my characters/designs. saying stuff like "I want him" is fine and funny, I just don't want to hear about your dick

I draw entirely for fun and do things when they seem funny/relevant, do not assume I ever owe you anything

please do not blatantly rip off my ideas and characters. being inspired is ok, I just really don't like it when people take my ideas out of context and act like they own them/are free use. I put a lot of work and thought into these things and it's incredibly discouraging to see this happen over and over again.

if you find me being a "hypocrite" about some of these because there are exceptions and feel the need to be an ass, i may be inclined to throw rocks at you

If you need clarifications or have questions feel free to ask, but this is generally what's set in stone.

#some of these are weirdly specific which implies that things have happened #and the bad part is that they most likely did #important #mos text post

61 notes · View notes

savyir-genesizz-the-wizard · 18 hours

Note

gotta ask abt cogito & the cane, if you don't mind. even as a (phys) disabled person I have a hard time thinking of circumstances with D2 where disabilities wouldn't just be either a. healed by light or b. negligible with abilities or c. too much of risk on the field. hadn't given much thought to exos in regards to all that- I know pretty much nothing about exo anatomy either. I know we see some stuff with banshee's memory impairment, but that's not physical. au thing or did you find a way that the rep makes sense? /gen

Hello! So I think I've talked about it a few times in various Discord servers but didn't make a post so here are all my thoughts on this topic (as examplified by my oc(s))

Case A. Cogito is disabled because he was disabled before he died and it did not cause his death. His exo model is highly custom and a leg he kitbashed from a dead exo (when he was lightless) is very faulty (causes pain when he walks too much or runs, and sometimes doesn't bend).

This could also happen with human/awoken guardians (especially if they were born disabled). As Speaker said: "Devotion inspires bravery, bravery inspires sacrifice, sacrifice leads to death" - it would be fucked up if disabled people were somewhat except from that. If a guardian can be rezzed old (like Osiris) then it probably means that they get rezzed as they were at the point when they died so case closed.

Back to Cogito though - yes, light can help him as a mobility aid (he's a Warlock, he can fly pretty well) but obliviously can't always work (light restriction zones for example). And also yeah, it's very much a problem in the field sometimes. It's a big reason why he does solitary reaserch work and only raids with a big group.

Another example of this would be Kobzar-13 with his poor eyesight (this one is for me. I have very bad eyesight too tho it's not as bad, yet). His optics were damaged some time before he died so now it's like this. He could probably get them fixed but he just rolls with this. His ghost audio describes everything to him in his head which I think would be very cool.

Case B. Wawrzyniec is disabled (amputee) because his arm got cut of by Crota. Aka "various light restricting devices and light restricted zones". In this case soulfire. Cogito's scratch (on his head, I don't always draw them) also goes under this category.

This one is more of a stretch but I think that it's plausible. I guess that guardians more often die in these situations than escape disabled. There is also the fact that ghosts might be not able (or want) to heal certain injuries. You can say that Sloane is a lore example of this.

Another oc example of this would be Enebish who got burn scars and lost an eye during the Red War when the Traveler was caged. I don't really remember if anything was said about it at the time.

Bonus case C. I know that some people headcanon guardians getting disabled because of extended light usage. I personally don't think it makes sense and goes kinda against the healing power of light stuff. Case closed.

And about the non-guardians - multiple characters have these sci-fi prosthetics (Camrin's is super advanced and Variks'es is pretty shabby) that I imagine can depend of how much cash or girlfriend in STEM you have. Eramis even has ones for her both feet so the field must be pretty advanced. There is also brother Vance who is blind and clearly did pretty well (before he jumped into piramid zone and vanished forever (John Bungie, if you heal his eyesight I'll kill you)).

Bungie seems to be generally very indirect when it comes to showing disability. Except for PTSD. Which is to be expected from an fps shooter. Everyone wants a cool robot arm but no one wants to talk about the attitude to disability in different cultures.

Speaking of which - humanity is probably not much different then it's now. There are probably a lot of disabled veterans. I wonder if insulin is expensive in the Last City. Awoken and Cabal are probably weird about it. Neomuni, well, we've seen Maya Sundaresh. Eliksni are the most normal.

So yeah, that's all from me. Thanks for the ask!

#destiny 2 #destiny the game #ask answer #cogito-4 #oc

10 notes · View notes

nocturnalazure · 5 months

Note

📩 Simblr question of the day: Choose as many sims/ocs as you'd like for this question, What's something INCREDIBLY obscure and/or out-of-pocket about your sim/oc? Something that nobody (fellow sims and/or your followers and mutuals) knows 👀 (This could be things about their social skills, physicality and/or birth defects, or it could be something they vaguely remember, a dream they had that actually predicted the future, etc etc... whatever you come up with)

( p.p.s freely share this SQOTD around, anon or not, and use the # SQOTD ~ 💛 )

Oh, thank you Anon! What a lovely question!

I love daydreaming about my OCs and I can come up with a thousand little details about them. I also love integrating those details into my story whenever possible. But the game is sometimes limiting and I can't show everything that I'd like to show, that's why I'm so grateful for OC asks: I get the chance to mention all those things that make up my characters and that would never get mentioned otherwise.

(I'm writing a whole essay again, I'll try to make it short)

So here are a few facts from previous character development questions/oc asks in which I've mentioned a detail that was simply never mentioned or shown in the story, directly or indirectly. :)

Nathaniel: drives too fast and gets speeding tickets. Would have liked to be a piano teacher.

Theo: got the 'heart of stone' lifetime reward. Likes Carmina Burana.

Ralph: was an alcoholic at some point. [NB: that's actually more or less induced in the very first scene in which he appears, which is in a watering hole] Listens to country music. Likes to sniff Pippa's belongings (like a dog!).

Sam: is a fan of Lily Allen. Has a husky voice. Tried to make latte art but failed. Uses "moron" a lot. Is a spendthrift.

Noah: was supposed to become a gigolo in my original storyline for him. Is a repressed Borderline.

Ash: actually strongly autistic-coded. He described love as being (I quote) "a four-leaf clover". Forgets pens everywhere he goes.

Uli: is scared of pigeons.

Ivy: her mother died of cancer when she was a baby. Is scared of old age and her body failing her. Likes sex toys.

Seth: the car he repaired at some point in the story was bought by Yu Wong (Anh's grandmother). His greatest fear was that Erik would suffer from something he's done. Doesn't like people touching him (except his wife).

Tristan: his rings are signet rings (the one on his thumb bears his family crest, the one on his little finger has a rather unidentifiable gemstone coming from his mother). Met in person King Louis XIV of France, Bach and Charlie Chaplin.

Laurie: his favorite drink is Gin & Tonic. Has a Discord account.

Anh: loves mooncakes. Watches anime.

Eloise: doesn't like video games. Loves the holiday season and listening to Tristan playing the piano.

Erik: is a fan of Deadpool and Wolverine. Loves the smell of gasoline and cinnamon.

Romeo: went by Federico in gay bars. Would like to adopt a cat. Is an excellent swimmer.

Jamie: dips his chip back into the salsa after taking a bite. Doesn’t call ahead when he’s late. Chews on his fingernails.

Omar: loves pistachios and Candy Crush.

#replies #character development #sqotd

25 notes · View notes

advanced-imbecile-ocs · 27 days

Text

Since I'm slowly making some Special Forces OCs, I realized making one is probably kind of daunting for most people due to all the Military stuff so here's a very loose collection of thoughts on the structure of the Special Forces.

Cause after all, what's a Black Dragon without an Special Forces Agent to hunt them down?

So to start, if you know anything about the military, the Special Forces is weird. A US Military task force started to fight international crime gangs? That's more the wheelhouse of other agencies like the CIA and INTERPOL I feel, but I digress because I'm here to make some sense of the Earthrealm Special Forces (ESF) since I think that's the era most people would be interesting in making an OC for the organization and I hope what I write here will give some of you enough insight to feel confident developing one or two.

First we'll cover some boring shit that won't really affect the day to day of your average ESF troop. Normally, federal troops are incredibly restricted on what the can and can't do to enforce domestic policies on US soil per The Posse Comitatus Act. However, given it's focus is responding to otherworldly threats to the US and the world at large, there is likely legislation that has been passed and carve outs made for Special Forces to operate in this capacity and still be part of the Department of Defense. There is likely a congressional panel that provides civilian oversight to ESF, hence all of Sonya Blade's references to a particular congressman during MKX. He's likely in charge of that oversight committee which can do things like hold hearings about what ESF has been up to to ensure they are operating within the bounds of their assigned responsibilities and not wasting taxpayer money.

Now onto the stuff you'll really want to know for your potential troop. Starting with some general military structure knowledge. The most important thing you need to know is there are two main groups in the military. Your Officers and your Enlisted. Officers are your captains, Lts, Colonels. They're the managers of the forces. Every group and subgroup within the military will generally have an Officer in charge of it to manage it. Sometimes they're assigned to do actual tasks, but generally they're in charge of the far more numerous Enlisted doing the tasks. Enlisted are the real work force of the military. These are the guys getting called Private, Arimen, Seamen, Sergeant, Petty Officer, ect. They're going to be the guys making up those mobs we seen getting thrown at Outworld's threats. The ones guarding the portal at the refugee site in MKX. For a more in depth break down of that, just search the US Military Rank Structure and you'll get plenty of images breaking down the E and O ranks across the forces.

ESF is most certainly a Special Joint Operation with the US Army making up a good amount of the group given how many grunts we see get mowed down in MK11's opening. This likely means, outside of special cases I'll ponder later, that you do not directly join the ESF. Instead you would join one of the basic military branches (Army, Navy, Marines, Air Force, and now our new Space Force) or even other agencies like the FBI and CIA and later be selected or be given the opportunity to volunteer for this special mission. Because of this, there are likely very very few junior ranking enlisted in the ESF. Most everyone is likely a Sergeant or Petty Officer for the Enlisted side, and at least a Captain on the Officer side.

The ESF is also certainly an international effort. It's not unusual for certain units and missions to have troops from our allied forces assigned to them. So there's probably a good handful of members from other countries, likely mainly from the Five Eyes partnership of Australia, Canada, New Zealand, the UK, and the US. That said, this is a fantasy land with alternate history so your agent could be from anywhere! Germany, India, whatever you like.

Finally, onto some funky exceptions I imagine exist for the ESF. At this point, I bet you're asking where someone like Johnny Cage falls in all this. On one hand, he could be a Civilian General Schedule. Which is just the term used for Civilians employed by a federal agency like the Department of Defense. Usually referred to as GS on a grade scale similar to how Enlisted and Officers are. He could also be specially contracted to work on behalf of the ESF, but not be directly employed by the Department of Defense. There's a lot of nitty gritty differences here, but what I imagine is most important to you theoretical OC maker, is that a Civilian employee will answer to someone on the Military side. A Contractor would view the ESF more as a customer they are providing a service for.

Finally, I know I said earlier you likely aren't able to directly join the ESF? Well given that they're a suped up kind of X-Files agency, I would bet good money there is a department dedicated to identifying special individuals like meta humans and recruiting them into the ESF. Possibly into small highly specialized units. There's bound to be all sorts of people scattered on Earthrealm with other worldly powers like Johnny Cage and Kenshi have, or perhaps just have a particular skill set or knowledge the ESF may need. Keeping a keen eye on anyone who might already be recruited into the military, but also identifying anyone who could be either useful to the ESF or a threat to Earthrealm if left unchecked. Think like how the X-Men are recruited into Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters.

That's all I've got for now. Sorry if anything in here doesn't make much sense, but like I said. Late night and loosely organized. I'm more than happy to talk about any of this in more detail if someone has questions.

#Mortal Kombat #Mortal Kombat Special Forces #Earthrealm Special Forces

14 notes · View notes

zerger33 · 1 year

Text

(OPEN) WRITING COMMISSIONS!

Hello! I'm a trans girl currently in need of some extra cash to deal with medical bills as well as to save up some money for some other personal things. Figured I might do what I do best to get that! So, I'll be opening up commissions!

What will you write?

I'll write most things, though currently, I'm best known for my Pokemon stuff. However, I'm willing to try my hand at most things. I'll write OC, Fanfiction, or original stories of most genres. I'm mostly good at Romance, Angst, and Horror, but I'm willing to try my hand at whatever.

For OC or original stories (Or even fanfiction for fandoms I don't know.) I will ask for descriptions of the characters, as well as their personalities and backstories, as well as some references for how they act. Whether these references are art, videos, audio, or other writings, any references help a ton!

So, what won't you write?

Explicit NSFW: While this may change in the future, as of now, I will not be doing anything explicitly NSFW. Steamy romance and mildly horny scenes are fine, and so are fade to blacks, but I will not do anything directly explicit.

Extreme gore: As much as I'll do gore, I have my limits, and if it's enough viscera to make a slasher film, that is far too much.

Anything that is Racist/anti-Semitic/anti-LGBT/Hate speech: Anything that fits into this general area is by far a no-go for very obvious reasons.

Fanfiction of real people

Incest or Minor/adult romance: No exceptions.

Do you have examples of your work?

Yes indeed! My AO3 has all my references, so if you want to see how my writing looks you can see there. You may also find some of my writing under the "#Writing stuff" tag!

What are the prices?

It'll be 15 USD for 1k words and an extra 10 dollars for every thousand after that.

I will do up to 5000 words!

Payment will be through either PayPal or Cash App.

How does it all work?

First, you send me a Tumblr PM and we discuss what exactly you want for a story. Then I'll send you a rough outline, after which you'll pay half, and I get to writing.

After I finish, I'll send you a small preview of the final product. After you pay the second half, I'll send you the .docx and .pdf files of the commission and do small tweaks and fixes as needed at the end.

Anything else I should know?

Please keep in mind that writing can take time, and while I will try to get you the commission ASAP, stuff sometimes gets in the way. I will keep you informed on progress as best I can.

Also, I can and will decline any commissions for any reason, and if I have started working on it when these reasons come up, you will be fully refunded.

With that, you have all you need to know! I hope to hear from some of you soon!

#writing stuff #writing commissions #writing #fanfiction commissions #commissions #commissions open #commisions info #long post

54 notes · View notes

somethingclevermahogony · 4 months

Text

OC Interview: The Pirates

Thank you for the asks @willtheweaver , @phoenixradiant , and @kaylinalexanderbooks !

For this one I'm gonna use my Pirate Polycule.

Were you named after anyone?

Istek: "Just a bird." He imitates a seagull, flapping his arms and squawking. "The name my parents gave me might have been...but I don't use that one anymore."

Dati: "Nope. Just a tree."

Sihunu: "My great aunt. Never met her. Heard she was unbearable to everyone but my mother."

When was the last time you cried?

Istek: "Cried...cried...I'm not really sure? Not that I don't cry, I just don't really remember. It might have been the last time I saw a baby seal...damn things are too cute."

Dati: "About a week ago. Sometimes memories sneak up on you I suppose."

Sihunu: " Last time I cried? What counts? I stubbed my toe and a few tears came out this morning, but I dunno about really crying..."

Do you have any kids?

Istek: " I do! My son Lat! Named him for the great hunter Lat, I was hoping if I named him for a big man he wouldn't be a runt like me!" He laughs.

Dati: "Lat might not have come from here." He gestures towards his crotch. "But he is my son just as much as he is Istek's."

Sihunu: "Yeah, Lat. He's fine now but I swear he came out sideways..."

Do you use sarcasm a lot?

Istek: "I try but I'm not good at it...now Sihunu...she knows a thing or two about sarcasm."

Dati: "I would but I don't think Istek would be able to understand me if I did. I save it for when I'm with Sihunu."

Sihunu: "No, never, not once..."

What is the first thing you notice about people?

Istek: "Well damn, it depends on the person right? Sometimes its the way they talk, their eyes, their clothes. With Narul it was the fact that his bicep is as big around as my waist!"

Dati: "Their eyes, more specifically what they're doing with them. Where they're looking, if they are worried or angry...that sort of thing.

Sihunu: "Their hands."

What is your eye color?

Istek: "Dark brown as they come, almost black."

Dati: "Hazel."

Sihunu: "Brown. Istek says it reminds him of cedar wood."

Scary movies or happy endings?

Istek: "I don't know what a movie is. I do love happy endings though...but I tingle down my spine is good too...eh i can't decide."

Dati: "Not sure what a movie is, but I prefer happy endings. There's enough scariness as it is."

Sihunu: "I love a scary story, don't know if that's the same thing as a movie or not."

Any special talents?

Istek: "Ask my Dati and Sihunu." He winks. "But uh...I guess I'm a good dancer and singer too. Get me a drink and I'll do both for ya."

Dati: "Hmm...I can juggle pretty well, I'm pretty good with knots...I don't get to do it much but I'm a damn good cook."

Sihunu: "Ah, mostly boring things, weaving and cooking. I used to be a bell dancer, but its been so long since I wore the bells my joints are too stiff to get back to it now."

Where were you born?

Istek: "Little farm in eastern Makora."

Dati: "It was a little village on Knosh just out of sight of the beach."

Sihunu: "The island of Ninetu, off the coast of Kishetal. I was born in my father's carpentry shop."

Do you have any pets?

Istek: "Nope."

Dati: "Istek."

Sihunu: "Istek."

What sort of sports do you play?

Istek: "I'm a captain! I don't have time sports! Well...maybe some wrestling."

Dati: "I used to box."

Sihunu: "None anymore. I used to swim and have footraces. Bell Dancing isn't a sport, but it should be considered one."

How tall are you?

Istek: "Shorter than I ought to be, tall enough to make you regret asking that."

Dati: "About 5'6. Taller than Istek."

Sihunu: "I'm the tallest. 5'8."

What was your favorite subject in school?

Istek: "School! Ha! Ask me what my favorite kind of silk was? Did I prefer eating beef or lamb each night? Do I like better wearing gold or silver? How rich do you think I am?"

Dati: "We didn't have anything like a school. A man from my village taught me how to read the currents, so maybe that?"

Sihunu: "Never went to a school, never had a tutor except my mother."

What is your dream job?

Istek: "Captaining the Westwind with Dati and Sihunu! I'm already there!"

Dati: "Being on the Westwind with Istek and Sihunu."

Sihunu: "Being with Dati and Istek doesn't matter what we're doing. I'm stuck on land while Lat is still growing up...I don't get to see them while they're at sea."

Tagging @illarian-rambling , @roach-pizza , @nothing-mancer , @mk-writes-stuff , and whoever!

#testamentsofthegreensea #writeblr #writing #fantasy #fantasy writing #oc #oc interview #tag game #creative writing

19 notes · View notes

tildeathiwillwrite · 11 days

Text

Tag Game: OC Mega Questionnaire

Thank you to @pluppsauthor for the tag! The Wheel spun Raiann Ignis blacksmith and Fire Mage from Trials of the Six, so here we go! My own notes are in blue.

Five things that make you happy:

Uhhh not being on a boat, getting a good night's sleep, a warm meal, a new pretty skirt, and beating Aquilar at cards. I'm a simple woman with simple wants.

If you could save just one other person who would it be?

Just one? Well, hate to say it but it's a toss-up between Aquilar and Jarsali. Whichever one's easier to grab. But I'd try to save the rest of my group regardless.

Tell us one of your funniest jokes:

Jokes are not my department, go ask Jarsali if you want a joke.

Where would you like to visit?

What I wouldn't give to see home. Or at least something reminiscent of it.

When do you usually go to sleep?

I don't know, when it gets dark out? A little while after sunset, usually, when the moons are visible. Yeah, Rymn has multiple moons. One's a reddish tint, the other blueish.

Are you a jealous person?

I'd like to think I'm not, but I'll admit I feel a little too possessive over Aquilar. Wish I didn't, but I think I miss when it was just us and Elya. At least I did at the beginning, but I like how it is now.

Have you committed a crime?

Personally I think executing Mages should be the crime, not rescuing them. But yes I've done some illegal things. I was on a privateering ship for three weeks, the Tectuma government paid us to do the illegal things.

Do you have a chore you usually hate?

Not really. Sometimes preparing meals can be frustrating, but I don't really hate any particular chore. A few years ago, when I worked at a forge, the worst chore I could have was cleaning the soot off everything. It was a mess. Glad I don't have to deal with that much anymore.

Tell me an embarrassing childhood story.

Oh... once when my sister and I were little we were playing with these sticks we found, pretending they were swords, except mine was surprisingly sharp for a stick so when I accidentally hit my sister's hand it started bleeding. Our mother saw the blood and panicked. My sister and I laughed about it years later but I still feel kinda bad about it.

Are you a good person?

Uh... depends on your definition of good. I'm currently helping save lives, so I think I'm a good person. The people who caused what I do to be necessary think I'm a bad person. I've killed in self-defense or to protect someone else. Does that make me a bad person because I killed, or a good person because I did it to protect myself or someone else? I don't know.

What’s the worst thing you have ever done? Do you regret it?

Getting myself exiled when I did. I should have acted so much sooner. I might have opened more people's eyes. Oh well. I'm sure fate intended for me to leave when I did.

What’s the quickest way to make you laugh?

When Korfel and Jarsali bicker it's always an entertaining time.

What is your favourite song right now?

I heard this one song from a street performer in Alynthi. The exact words escape me, but the tune has stuck in my head for a while now.

Do you sometimes wish to be someone else?

Ha! No. I sometimes wish I made different choices, but I'm happy to be who I am.

Do you push forward or take time to rest?

Hate to say it but I'm the over motivated type that needs to be reminded to take breaks otherwise I'll work myself ragged. Unfortunately in my choice of work those are few and far between, but at least I remember to sleep when I can.

What is your favourite drink?

I'm a te kind of woman. I usually just drink it black, but if we have it I sometimes add honey. Te (pronounced tay) is what most people call tea, both the Tectuma and Marelan cultures claim to have discovered it first. It's fairly widespread now mainly due to the Ilunian trading routes. White tea is the most popular currently, being the easiest and cheapest to produce. Te is also a staple of the smuggling trade, and Aquilar's ship made a ton of money for delivering such cargo alongside their privateering duties.

If you had to pick an item of clothing or accessory to wear for the rest of your life, what would it be?

Only that, or can I wear other stuff with it? I'm going to assume that you mean which item will I constantly be wearing. Well, most of my jewelry I wouldn't mind never taking off, I also always have my knives with me too. I guess it would be my bronze choker, my sister made it for me and it means a lot.

If you were forced to forget one memory, what would you choose?

Probably one of my embarrassing mishaps when I was learning to smith. One of the ones that didn't leave a scar. Or maybe one of the times I said the wrong thing that comes back to haunt me at night.

What is a positive thing your worst enemy would say about you?

Probably a backhanded compliment about my trade or skill. "She's a terrible person but hey at least she makes quality swords!" I dunno.

Tagging @fourwingedwriter @writer-of-worlds @geode-crystal @pluttskutt @leahnardo-da-veggie

@somethingclevermahogony and open tag! :D

Blank list:

Five things that make you happy:

If you could save just one other person who would it be?

Tell us one of your funniest jokes:

Where would you like to visit?

When do you usually go to sleep?

Are you a jealous person?

Have you committed a crime?

Do you have a chore you usually hate?

Tell me an embarrassing childhood story

Are you a good person?

What’s the worst thing you have ever done? Do you regret it?

What’s the quickest way to make you laugh?

What is your favourite song right now?

Do you sometimes wish to be someone else?

Do you push forward or take time to rest?

What is your favourite drink?

If you had to pick an item of clothing or accessory to wear for the rest of your life, what would it be?

If you were forced to forget one memory, what would you choose?

What is a positive thing your worst enemy would say about you?

#writeblr #tag game #writeblr tag game #oc mega questionnaire #oc questions #oc questionnaire #writing tag game #oc tag game #ask game #my ocs #trials of the six #raiann ignis #minor worldbuilding tangent

7 notes · View notes

kaylinalexanderbooks · 3 months

Text

OC interview

Thanks to @leahnardo-da-veggie here and @mysticstarlightduck here!

Rules: answer the following questions in the POV of an OC!

I need to work on Ash... So I'll do her... Wish me luck!

Are you named after anyone?

“Not that I know of.”

When was the last time you cried?

“I don't really cry often, actually. Though sometimes I get this intense sadness. I don't know if it's from me being an empath. But sometimes I'll have a telepathic dream, you could say.”

Do you have kids?

“Hahaha, no. I'm thirteen.”

Do you use sarcasm a lot?

“No, not a lot. I prefer to say what I mean.”

What’s the first thing you notice about people?

“Not entirely sure. Maybe approximate age or their outfit or something. I guess I'll pick up on some psychic vibe.”

What’s your eye colour?

“Green. I really like that part of me, actually.”

Scary movies or happy endings?

“Big fan of scary movies, actually. I find them really fun.”

Any special talents?

“I play the euphonium. I'm into robotics. I win most board games I play. Excerpt Mouse Trap. God, I hate that game. Also, our school rents archery equipment sometimes, and I was the best aim. I think I'm also getting pretty good at telepathy.”

Where were you born?

“I finally asked my mom directly. I was born in Alium. Sector 9.”

Do you have any pets?

“No. But I would love a dog.”

What sort of sports do you play?

“My ex-stepdad taught me and Hannah baseball. The annoying part was that I liked it. But after he left I haven't gone back to it. I'd rather work on my other hobbies, anyway. But who knows? Maybe one day I'll take it up again. Or archery.”

How tall are you?

“I just passed 5'3, which makes me the tallest in my family except Mary. Alium heights are strange.”

What was your favourite subject in school?

“I'm still in school, so my favorite subject is science. Especially when it's hands-on. We got to dissect a chicken's wing a bit ago. It was awesome. You could even see where the bullet hit the chicken because of the way the bone was broken!”

What is your dream job?

“... I don't really think about the future that often. I guess something hands-on. Maybe robotics related.”

Eh, I'm still so unsure about Ash. I have no idea why she's so hard for me.

Other Ash: OC in three, OC questionnaire, two truths and a lie

Other interviews: Wade, Jazlyn, Gwen, Lexi, Carla, Carmen, Maddie, Liam

Tagging @katwritesshit @writeouswriter @little-mouse-gardens @buffythevampirelover @willtheweaver

+ ANYONE ELSE

TSP intro

TSP tag list (ask to be +/-): @thepeculiarbird @illarian-rambling @televisionjester @finchwrites

@nebula--nix @literarynecromancy @honeybewrites

Are you named after anyone? When was the last time you cried? Do you have kids? Do you use sarcasm a lot? What’s the first thing you notice about people? What’s your eye colour? Scary movies or happy endings? Any special talents? Where were you born? Do you have any pets? What sort of sports do you play? How tall are you? What was your favourite subject in school? What is your dream job?

#the secret portal #teaspoon #tsp #oc tag game #my oc #writing tag game #ash hathaway #oc interview #writers on tumblr #writing community #writers of tumblr #writing on tumblr #writeblr #writeblr community

15 notes · View notes

runningfrom2am · 1 year

Text

achilles heel - VI: i. cheated. too.

summary:

Grace is the very opposite of her brother in every way. when she finally moves onto campus at UNC Chapel Hill, she feels like she gets to be her own person, make her own friends, and hopefully start a promising career in the museum industry, and maybe, one day, get married to her high school sweetheart and live the American dream for herself. Rafe Cameron however, upon their very first meeting, throws a wrench in her very perfect plan.

tags/warnings:

rafe cameron x fem!oc, rafe is giving very much homewrecker, fanon!rafe (kinda), college!au, friends to lovers, slow-burn (maybe?), minimal oc description, drug and alcohol use, mostly unedited, violence, fighting, (these tags are not exhaustive, lmk if i should add anything!)

wc: 3.2k

my master list

series masterlist

requests (temporarily closed)

February 3rd, 2019

Rafe and Grace didn't lose contact again after that, he wasn't about to let that happen. She did still go to class, but he missed that smile he'd seen on Sunday- that side of her that was so carefree, so happy. He hadn't expected that vandalizing Nate's car would cure her heartbreak, but part of him hoped it would. He discovered that he would do anything to help, and he spent his free time throughout the week either texting her or thinking of what to do the next time they hung out. They didn't have plans, but he couldn't wait. And for once, he was almost completely free on a Saturday, so now is as good a time as any.

R: gracie, any plans today?

He sends the text and goes back to making lunch, trying to ignore how nervous it made him. It wasn't a risky text by any means, what was he scared of? Her saying she's busy? It's not a date, he knows that. It's just friends hanging out to keep her from spiraling back into a pit of depression, he didn't want to let that happen.

G: Just the usual, I'm trying to get some reading done but it's hard to focus

G: how about you?

Rafe's phone buzzes twice on the counter as the messages come in and he quickly grabs it, abandoning his sandwich-making efforts.

R: same

R: I'm thinking about going to the driving range later, want to come?

G: golfing? by yourself?

R: not if you come with me?

G: I don't know how to golf but I promise I'll be a good spectator

R: you'll just make me look like a pro 😎

G: 😐😐

R: i'll pick you up at 2?

G: See you then, Tiger Woods <3

Grace was surprised when Rafe showed up with a truck instead of his bike, but it would make sense if he had to bring his own clubs. The weather was nice that day, there were hardly any clouds in the sky but it was still crisp enough out for Grace to wear a sweater without the intentions of taking it off again until she got home.

By the time they arrived at the driving range, there was a decent amount of people there. With minimal snow and mostly friendly weather, a lot of people golfed year round in North Carolina, and Rafe was no exception.

He jumps out of the truck after parking to grab his clubs, and Grace grabbed her tote bag and slung it over her shoulder before following after him.

"You ever been here before?" Rafe asks, golf bag over his shoulder as they walk up to the entrance.

Grace shakes her head, looking out to the green and all the yard markers scattered over the lawn. "I think Nate came here sometimes. He likes golfing."

"Well, welcome, then." Rafe replies, holding the door for her and ignoring her second comment about her ex.

"Thanks, I'm excited." She smiles in response, passing him to enter but waiting for him to talk to the employee at the counter.

"Welcome in! What can I do for y'all today?" The young girl asks, Grace following her friend up while he places his clubs down and leans against the counter.

"Hey, yeah, can I get two twenty baskets please? And a club for her?" Rafe asks, Grace quickly shaking her head as the employee is already turning to grab the supplies he asked for. "What? You don't want to try?" He turns his attention to Grace now, slightly laughing.

"No, I'm not a golfer." Grace smiles nervously, pulling the sleeves of her sweatshirt over her palms.

The girl working pauses, looking between the two of them. "No then?"

"Nah, I'll take 'em. She might change her mind." Rafe insists, winking in Grace's direction before taking the baskets and club, handing it over to Grace.

Rafe paid, and then the girl buzzed open the door out to the driving platform for them to enter. Down at the end there was three open spots in a row, and Rafe lead Grace down all the way to the edge so they weren't surrounded on all sides by other people.

Grace placed down the one basket she carried over for Rafe, and sat down in a chair against the wall, ready to watch.

"C'mon, Gracie, you're not even gonna try?" Rafe chuckles, watching her as he's in the process of pulling out his club.

Grace shakes her head, smiling up at him. "I'm more than content to watch. Thank you, though."

"You'll change your mind- I know you will." He says, a smug grin crossing over his face.

Grace rolls her eyes fondly, then watched as Rafe tee'd up to make his first swing. Grace doesn't know much about golf, but she could see the confidence in Rafe's posture and his subsequent swing, and the way the muscles in his arms flexed and made his veins prominent. The ball flew off onto the green and landed somewhere she didn't see- her eyes were trained on him.

"Good hit!" Grace smiles, clapping for him and crossing her legs.

"Thank you." Rafe turns to her, taking a dramatic bow which makes her laugh. "Alright, your turn." He's already placing another ball on the tee.

"No!" Grace's laugh continues, shaking her head.

"What if I fumbled a few times first?"

"No, then people will definitely be watching." Grace giggles.

"Oh, come on. No one cares. You gotta start somewhere." Rafe pleads.

"Are you just going to bug me until I agree to try?"

"Yes ma'am." He nods in response, leaning on his club now.

"Okay, just one." Grace relents, standing up and placing her bag on the ground.

"That's what I like to hear!" Rafe grins, taking a step back as she grabs her driver, smaller than his so she can actually reach the ball from a decent distance. "Just, uh, try not to out-do me, that would be kind of a hit to my ego."

"Ha, ha, Rafe." Grace replies sarcastically, smile glued to her cheeks as she rolls her eyes, awkwardly adjusting the grip in her hands.

"Need help?" He offers, making an effort to not laugh at her obvious discomfort. Not that the laughter would come from a place of maliciousness, but just that she looks really cute. It would make him a little more comfortable if he could, but he's not sure which is worse; making her feel embarrassed, or having to explain himself.

"Maybe, yeah..." She agrees hesitantly, and he's already reaching out to adjust her hands.

"So just hold it like this..." He explains, placing her fingers in the right places. "And stand with your legs shoulder width apart." Rafe steps over next to her now to demonstrate in a way she can easily reflect. "Yeah, like that, then, line up, pull your elbow back and up like this-" He explains, holding an imaginary club and lifting his arms back, before swinging them down and forward, making a popping sound with his lips and then pretending to watch the ball fly with a hand over his eyebrows. "Got it?"

"I think so." Grace smiles, nodding slightly and looking down at the white ball again, lining up as Rafe takes a step back.

"Don't forget to imagine it's Nate's dick." Rafe adds.

"Rafe!" Grace laughs, turning to him and relaxing her posture again.

"No, you're right- sorry." He raises his hands. "That would make it like, a lot smaller and harder to hit."

"Oh, god- don't." Grace laughs as she looks away, an embarrassed pink flush coating her cheeks.

"Am I right?" Rafe teases her, his sole intentions being in making her glance at him with that slightly embarrassed but extremely genuine smile again.

"Rafe, I'm not telling you." She insists, trying to line up again.

"I'll take that as a yes."

"I'll hit you with this- how about that instead?" Grace turns to him, and yes, there it is. She's threatening him, sure, but not seriously, and if that's what it takes for her to look at him like that, he'd take the risk of being hit with a golf club every time.

"Okay, yup. Subject dropped." He agrees, smiling back at her. He just can't help it.

"Thank you..." Grace mutters, head shaking fondly at him. She's grateful now that she can talk about Nate without crying, but maybe that's just the Rafe effect.

After a moment of silence and a deep breath, she swings and misses- chipping the club onto the turf just next to the tee. "Oh- oops!"

"Just warming up?" Rafe chuckles, sitting down in the seat she previously occupied.

"Yeah, that was a practice swing. I've got it now." Grace agrees, lining up again. "Pressures on now for real."

"You're good." Rafe reminds her, trying not to stare too intensely. If she could feel his eyes boring into her skin she might mess it up again, so instead he sticks to her clothes, and the way her blue sweater is so clearly oversized but somehow fits her just right, tucked into the waistband of her jeans.

She swings while he's distracted, actually making contact with the ball this time. It wasn't a perfect hit, it flew off to the side but not very far. "I did it!" She grins, turning immediately to Rafe to see his reaction.

"Hey, not bad, Gracie!" He smiles, standing up again and reaching out instinctively to run his hand over her shoulder. "You're a natural."

"Okay, that's a bit dramatic." Grace laughs.

"Few more swings and you'll be perfect. Trust me." Rafe smiles, grabbing another ball for her.

They take turns for a while, and Grace only misses several more times before she actually gets the hang of it.

She's lining up again, feeling confident now as she stares down at the ball, swaying her hips back and forth to adjust her stance. Rafe, once again is watching with a proud smile on his face, arms crossed as he stands a few feet away. He happens to look up when he hears the buzzer for the gate open, a group of boys filing in. Standard, of course, and nothing to take note of until he recognizes one of them as Nate. Not only that, but Nate with his arm draped over a girls shoulder as she laughed at something he said. No doubt in Rafe's mind that it wasn't funny.

He had to get Grace out of here before she saw him. She swings which draws his attention again, and he's quickly gathering their stuff. "Hey, uh, I'm pretty hungry. Are you ready to go?"

"Yeah, actually, I could go for a coffee." Grace nods, turning to him and he's already holding her bag out to her. "Thanks.." She chuckles, dropping it back over her shoulder and grabbing a basket before turning towards the way they came in.

"Just go around that way." Rafe stops her, standing in front of her and taking the basket from her hands. "I'll drop off our stuff and meet you at the truck in a few, yeah?"

"Are you sure? I can come with you, you'll have a handful." Grace says, reaching out for the basket again.

"I'm sure. Just go around that way." He nods, pointing behind her to the emergency exit.

"Oh, okay. I'll meet you outside." Grace agrees, smiling at him thankfully before turning and taking the other exit which, thankfully, wasn't far.

Rafe turns as soon as the door shuts behind her, dropping the basket on the ground and picking up his club again.

He's pacing quickly over to where the boys and Nate's arm candy decided to set up, scowl clear as day on his face. "Nate!" He calls out as he gets closer, only allowing a moment for Nate to recognize him before he's tossing the driver into his left hand and swinging with his right, connecting his fist directly with that jerks nose.

Everyone in the immediate vicinity gasps as Rafe shakes out his fist, already cramping from the tension and impact. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" The girl asks, immediately reaching out for Nate who pushes her off.

"Don't touch me." He mutters, wiping his nose with his wrist, blood staining the crisp folded edges of the sleeve.

Rafe is staring at him as all his friends look between the two of them in shock. "I knew it was you who fucked with my car. I fucking knew it!" Nate says, raising his voice now as he glared at Rafe, staring him up and down.

"Maybe it was someone else who can see how much of a shitbag you are, have you ever considered that?" Rafe spits at him. "I bet you haven't, actually, because the only thing you can literally think about is yourself. You're a selfish prick."

"No, I know it was you." Nate shakes his head, scoffing. "What did I even do? You're the one who she cheated on me with! I'm innocent in this, not that either of you can get that through your thick skulls to realize that I am the one who was wronged."

"I've never touched her." Rafe says through gritted teeth. "If you knew her or cared about her you would have believed that when it came from her."

"Bullshit." Nate replies. "Anyway, tell your new girlfriend that we're even now."

"What does that mean?" Rafe ticks his jaw at this, knuckles white as they're wrapped around the grip of his golf club.

Nate laughs, shaking his head. "God, of course I'd have to spell it out for you..." He mutters. "Okay, fine. Tell her I... Cheated... Too." He says it slowly, mockingly, and Rafe sees red.

Before he processes anything, he's swinging the club at the boy in front of him, taking him down and then swinging again as he stands over him. He's quickly shoved back this time, dropping the club and catching a glimpse of one of the employees coming out to intervene just has he feels something hit his face. He's quick to pick up the club and run back, looking over his shoulder as he approaches his bag. He grabs it, throwing it over his shoulder and bolting out the emergency exit after Grace.

Grace is standing by the truck, reading a book she had in her bag, thinking to herself that she's glad she brought it just in case when she looks up at the sound of feet pounding into pavement. Rafe is running towards her, looking frantically over his shoulder.

"Rafe? What happened?" She asks, brow furrowed as she quickly closes her book. He throws his stuff in the bed of the truck and heads to the door.

"Hurry, just get in." He never intended to lash out on Nate like that, in all honestly he didn't even expect to throw the first punch- but that asshole made it impossible for him to resist.

"Are you okay? Oh my god, you're bleeding!" Grace exclaims, looking away from him to dig through her bag.

"I'm fine, I'm good." Rafe says, backing out of the parking spot and driving off quickly.

"No, no, it looks bad. Pull over somewhere." Grace tells him, pulling a couple napkins out of her bag and reaching out to hold them up to the cut on his jaw.

"I'm fine." Rafe says again, turning his head away. "I'll get you home and I'll deal with it."

Grace sighs, dropping her hands down again.

For the whole drive back to campus, it was silent. Grace didn't know what to say, despite having several questions, and Rafe didn't know how to say he was sorry or even explain what happened at all. He knew she wouldn't like it.

They pull up to the dorms and she gets out, grabbing her bag again and staring at him expectantly. "Get out."

"No, no I've got to-"

"Rafe, get out and come with me. We've got a first aid kit in our bathroom."

Rafe knows from the look on her face to not argue, sighing to himself and turning off the truck before getting out and following her upstairs.

She quickly uses her keycard to open the door, and pushes it open wide to let Rafe in with her. "Hey, Grace! How was your-" Her roommate starts to ask, stopping as she lays eyes on Rafe. "Oh! Holy shit, are you okay?"

"Olivia, this is Rafe." She introduces her quickly before Rafe can once again insist that he's fine. "Is the first aid kit still in the bathroom?"

"Yeah, I haven't touched it." Olivia stammers, looking shocked now.

"Thanks." Grace nods at her, dragging Rafe down the hall and into the bathroom by his hand. The way her palm is stretched around his is tense, he wished it didn't have to be that way.

She shuts the door behind them, digging around for the kit and pulling it out and opening it quickly. "I don't think you'll need stitches." She tells him, unwrapping gauze and alcohol wipes.

"I'm sorry." Rafe mumbles, surprised even to hear it from himself.

Grace pauses, looking up at him. Her eyes are soft again, she looks like herself, though the crease in her forehead has morphed from one of worry to one of confusion. "What? Don't be sorry."

"I am." Rafe replies, avoiding eye contact with her now.

"Well... What happened?" She asked, hesitantly continuing what she was doing.

"I, uh, Nate came in, and then I just-" Rafe explains and winces as Grace wipes off his cheek with a clean cloth. "I don't know... I didn't mean to, I guess."

"Is he okay?" Grace asks quietly.

"He'll be fine." Rafe clenches his jaw and she just nods a little bit. "Why do you even care?"

"He's a person, Rafe." She replies, delicately as possible trying to clean up the wound. "I mean, I know he hurt me, but that was superficial. I've loved him for years. I'd never want to see him in pain. But it happens, I suppose."

Rafe chews on the inside of his cheek as she talks. "You still love him?"

"Of course." She mumbles, almost embarrassed. "For now. One day that will change, I know that, but it's difficult to move on from the only love you've ever known."

"I'm sorry." Rafe says again. "I... I didn't know, I didn't mean to, I just wanted to try and talk some sense into him but he was with another girl and-"

"It's okay." Grace gives him a small smile. "Just... don't make a habit out of beating up my ex boyfriend, yeah?"

"One and done." Rafe promises, relaxed immensely by the forgiveness on her face.

"Thank you." She grins to herself, grabbing the alcohol wipe and brushing it over the area. "It's stopped bleeding, which is good. Now that it's cleaned up it doesn't look too bad."

"You should see the other guy." Rafe jokes, a slight tinge of pain in his tone as the alcohol gets into the cut.

"Oh, I'm sure." Grace chuckles, shaking her head. "Can I be honest with you for a sec? And you have to promise you'll never tell a soul."

"Of course." Rafe nods, smile fading as he's not sure what she'll say.

"You were kinda right." Grace blushes, giggling as she places a bandage over his cheek. From the confused expression on his face, she knows she'll have to explain. "It's... It's kinda small, I think." She whispers, face red now.

Rafe laughs, dropping his head back. "I knew it! I could just tell. And I knew you wouldn't have been embarrassed like that if I wasn't right."

"Shh, okay- never tell anyone." Grace giggles, holding a finger up to her lips. "I didn't tell you that, okay?"

"Nope, I didn't hear a thing." Rafe says, mock zipping his lips at that as he smiles down at the girl in front of him.

taglist: @newbooksmell777, @tahliac11, @slut4drudy, @madelynie, @angelw33dz, @whore-4-drewstarkey , @winterrrnight, @sadfury, @bookishbabyyy , @madelynie , @totalswag , @sadfury @fullfledgedemo @rafemotherfuckingcameron, @urfaveluvr , @hxnnah-397 , @s-we-e-t-t-ea , @saccharinesammie , @redhead1180 , @chenslucy

#obx fanfic #rafe cameron #rafe obx #rafe fic #outer banks #obx #rafe fanfiction #rafe outer banks #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron fluff #rafe imagine #obx fanfiction #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fanfiction

50 notes · View notes