#still have to make a freckle brush for clip studio but i’m still figuring it out 🥴

[chaosangelmp3]

s1 robin bc i am thinking thoughts

[morphituu]

Bell Peppers Ch. 9

“Weeks”

Archive of Our Own: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11

tumblr: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11

It was cold, even with a blanket draped over his shoulders, but the cold couldn't confine him to his empty house. Often in the two weeks that passed, he’d find himself somehow wandering into his backyard, sitting, staring at the bell peppers that were wrinkling the longer they frosted. And it was in those two weeks that he noticed he had picked up a particular habit of hers.

Often as he stared, lost in the strange fog that had become his thoughts, he’d bounce his leg. It made him impatient, but for what? He gave up expecting her call after the first few days, the likes of those days having been such agony.

He woke up the day after feeling like he’d ran for miles, but that hurt just… stayed.

It felt like he forgot a piece of himself at home when he didn’t contact her. He couldn’t think. His appetite was absent. He didn’t hear people speaking around him.

All the food she’d made at his home dwindled too quickly, and his fridge became barren, takeout containers eventually filling the space.

Ward knew it the first day he saw it. The chatterbox he knew Nick to be was silent, and he couldn’t recall seeing his phone in his hand like it used to be. The orc no longer showed him photos of his favorite person, or spoke of the plans they'd made. Ward knew, but said nothing, even when they’d pass the liquor store.

When those 2 weeks came up like a cruel reminder, Nick was adjusted. He worked, ate, and slept. He kept busy at work, the TV on at home, and downed Melatonin at night so there wasn’t spare minutes to sit and think of her. He already missed her so fucking much when he was busy, that he knew he wouldn’t be able to withstand facing the monster sitting on his shoulders during his alone time.

Sometimes he’d come as close as parking a few store lengths from the liquor store, so close to walking in, but as long as he decided against just asking her to talk, maybe start like they first did, he’d keep coming back to his backyard.

“I’d grow tea leaves, and tomatoes, maybe some potatoes,” she pondered, her big eyes squinted in thought.

“Tea leaves?” he asked, his shoulder leaning against the tall windows of the store.

“For my mom- she uses them to cook,” Callie explained, earning a thoughtful frown from him.

“Never even heard of them,”

“Oh yeah, I can imagine a seasoned farmer like you grows square watermelon and asparagus or something,”

He snorted, rolling sideways. “Carrots and lettuce, you brat. Been thinking of trying bell peppers,”

“I love bell peppers,” she sighed, resting her head back. Too bad they were in public- he craved to drag his tongue up her slender neck, taste the sweat he could see lining her chest from the blistering sun.

“Oh yeah?” he asked, and she nodded, equally captivated by the muscle of his shoulders she wanted to hang off of as she bounced in his lap. His head lolled towards her a little when she stepped closer, her chin bumping his shoulder.

“I’ll bring you a truck load,” he mumbled, lost in her freckles of her cheeks and honey skin, wanting nothing more than to nibble that plump bottom lip of hers.

“I’m gonna hold you to it, Nick. You come here too often for snacks to avoid me now,”

Above all, he wanted to hear her scream his name in pure desperation, begging for release.

“I come here for you, dummy,” he confessed, his wrist hung off one of the many items clipped to his belt. Callie’s smile was brighter than a sunrise, and he couldn't resist bending his wrist back to bump his knuckles against her flushed cheeks. Until she rested her forehead on his arm did they gaze at one another, both hiding their covet.

Nick grunted when he stood, tired from a day of absolute shit and barely the energy to bother buying food on his way home. It still sat on his counter, cold by now. He passed it on his way into the kitchen, instead grabbing for the bottle of Melatonin. That was all he could handle that night.

Callie didn’t sleep in her bed.

The coffee stand before her couch became the spot that held everything familiar, and comfortable.

Her phone, bag, some snacks, the remotes, even a few sweaters.

She slept her free days away, curled into the cushions and hiding from the daylight when a panic attack would hold her hostage in her own living room.

At work, she carried on. She was good at putting on the mask she needed to keep everyone out of her life, but not even music helped ease the ache that followed into her dreams.

When she stretched her arms above her head before the tall mirrors in the studio, her muscles protested. She thought dancing would help, but she couldn’t even find the energy to stand and twirl. Even slipping on her tights were too much of a chore; required too much energy she’d rather exhaust stuffing her legs into sweats and sleeping.

The light in her heart had dimmed.

She wondered why he didn’t stop by her store anymore.

She questioned why he didn’t call her, but in turn would ask herself why she hadn’t called him.

She was so exhausted, but sleep couldn’t fix this no matter how many hours she clocked.

She thought 2 weeks was enough time to pass for some kind of normality to come back into her days, but after Nick…

How do you get over someone, after being so in love with them?

When the slightest of energy crept into her limbs, and the yearn for relief pushed her to slide her hand beneath the band of her underwear, her mind drifted to Nick.

Wide shoulders shadowing her writhing form beneath, her knees to her chest, her hands upon his face as he'd kiss her, their breaths and moans intermingling. The steady rhythm of his narrow hips slamming between her thighs, over, and over, and over again until-

“We’re gonna get caught- ugh,” he tried to stop her, but she was so fucking good at this, even without the seat reclined. Maybe his fingertips digging into her gyrating hips was his attempt at stopping her, but it didn’t hinder her in any way. She figured he’d stop protesting when he hooked a thumb around her panties to keep them aside, marveling down at her pussy that graciously took his glazed dick, over and over.

“No one comes back here,” she panted, mewling when he straightened his hips, his dick sliding stiffer into her.

“Is that a pun?” he asked, smiling lazily up at her with half lidded eyes. She laughed, kissing him lovingly as his fingers tangled in her dark locks all around them, the police cruiser shaking in the dark of the alley behind her store.

She chased the fantasy that was once reality, but could never hold it close enough to keep it’s warmth from being blown out.

Her high was empty. Loneliness only reared its face soon after. She'd lay in the dark, deflated, the fight in her drained until sleep finally pulled her under, only after she allowed herself to accept this was her life again.

Callie knew better than this.

Even if her emotional state had been compromised during the passing weeks, that didn’t mean her common fucking sense had been.

But Ashely’s words had rang in her head: “Closure isn’t real- just cut you hair and move on.”

It had turned into 2 days of staring at her long hair in the mirror, suddenly aware of the weight, and the nuisance it had become brushing after sleeping so much. Where she had enjoyed running her fingers through her thick tresses, all she noticed now was how often it tangled.

Maybe a little extra weight off my shoulders would be nice.

Wrong. Rosie told her she’d regret it. Changes like this had no business being decided upon during the healing process.

But it was too late. She’d watched in silent horror as the stylist cut the ponytail from her head, the crunching of the strands between the blades of the scissors making her cringe, and after forty-five minutes of withholding screams to stop, she was left with hair above her shoulders, now thick curls that bounced around her ears like Rosie's without the weight holding them down.

She kept looking in the reflection of her phone while she watched TV, but would groan every time.

Still, she couldn’t help but wonder, would Nick like it?

The idea had shown through the clouds that fogged his thoughts a few days prior to deciding to ask Ward for his opinion on the matter. Whereas he hadn’t been able to form much of a coherent thought before then, this one manifested ever so clearly. It was his aha! idea that kept him from grabbing the Melatonin the night before, at last content with his own company.

He wanted- had to speak with Callie. Even if she still hated him, he had to tie up the loose ends. He couldn’t keep rethinking those last minutes together, and all the what-ifs. They were over- he groaned silently to himself- but he felt he’d left so much of himself behind with her that he needed back. If he was to truly get over her, no matter how badly he just wanted to collect her in his arms and smother her with adoration and apologies, he needed this reconciled.

“Hey Ward!” Nick called, jogging after his partner as he walked tiredly to the rig.

“What’s up?” Daryl replied, surprised that Jakoby seemed… not like a soulless husk, that afternoon.

“I need your advice on something,” Nick inquired, walking beside him. “It's about Callie,”

“Mhm?”

“We… split,” that was like swallowing glass. “But it ended so… it was so chaotic that I feel like it wasn’t really even a break up? It was like a fight we both haven’t gotten over, like shit is still there waiting to be talked about again,”

“Mhm,”

“I wanna call her, not to try and get back together even though I do- I just feel like I can’t even begin to get over her as long as all of that is still there,” Nick struggled to explain, his hands moving around.

“You two haven’t talked since?”

The Orc shook his head.

“You think you’ll be satisfied and ready to move on if you just clear the air?” Ward asked.

Nick ran his tongue over his clipped tusks, thinking critically. “Not really,”

“Then don’t go there deciding you just want to work out the stuff that happened. Work on the shit that’s happening,”

“What if she doesn’t want to?”

“You ain’t gonna know unless you start talking,”

“But we fought because of shit that happened-”

“Just-” Ward raised his hand to stop him. “Start talking. You can’t plan anything after that cause you don’t know what’ll happen until you just start talking.”

Nick flipped that around in his head, over and over, hours and hours. It dawned on him that all this time he’d desired to be with her again, but never considered trying to do so. It scared him. Thinking of what else she’d scream at him if he said something wrong. It scared him thinking of baring his soul for a second time. Could things ever go back to how they used to be?

What was better- a new, possibly strained relationship, or the memory of one that was in every sense to him, perfect?

All these questions, but Ward was right. They just had to start talking.

But not over text. Oh no. He put his phone away, realizing this conversation was better to hear in voice no matter how he itched to message her, but he didn’t want any emotions mis-communicated. Then maybe in person would be better? Would she give him the time to meet up? Of course she would; he knew his Callie girl.

To see her again… the tempo of his heart increased.

The rest of his shift, he’d thought over what he could say. Every apology, every promise to never take what they had for granted. Anything to hear those words from her again:

I love you, Nick.

No love had dissipated. It sometimes drove him to madness, wondering if he showed up at her door, with his heart held in his hands to return it to her, if she would let him in again.

He would wait until he was home.

He would call her, and ask if she would meet him so they could talk, and until she agreed to that, he would bridle his wildest fantasies. As he drove home, a familiar song drifted through the speakers. Nick hadn’t had the gall to listen to it since it all happened, but hearing it now rekindled warmth.

Their song she’d play while they cleaned, or cooked, sometimes as they drove to the store. The one she’d hold his face to, mouthing the words lovingly as he held her sides with a grin, sometimes pulling him with to dance. Hearing her sing those words close to his ear would calm any torment in his heart.

“Mm, keep going,” he insisted, his mouth muffled against her shoulder and his arms loose around her waist.

“I sound like a cow in misery,”

“You're my cow in misery. Keep goin’,” he said again, sighing contentedly with her warm body against his in his chilled house that hadn't yet warmed since arriving home. She scoffed, but stroked the back of his neck, ambling in slow circles with his big body leaned on hers.

“I need your love, honey, yeah. I need your love…”

“Crazy, crazy, crazy for your baby.” he crooned softly.

By the time he was home, night had fallen over LA. He could hear the distant call of a wintertide dragon, probably circling one of the summits nearby. Daylight savings seemed to stir them, but he could never figure out why a simple hour change would.

He had it all planned out as he stepped from his truck. He knew what to say, where to ask her to-

A hand over his mouth sent him into a frenzy. Before he could flail his arms, others were holding them. Strong grips from strong arms, connected to lumbering shadows that surrounded him. They dragged him effortlessly to the front of his truck, kicking open the gate to his backyard despite his muffled shouts and wild efforts to free himself.

As soon as they dropped him, crushing blows from steel toed boots kicked the wind from him, squandering his chance to shout for help.

Where one part of his body would retract, another kick would fly into him, from every direction, hitting every measure of his body.

He felt his ribs crack after the third or fourth hit, and the cold impact of a metal pipe against his knee.

His skull bounced off the ground with every impact of their fists against his head. His hands rose to try and stop them, but his fingers snapped back in a sickening crunch when they swung past it.

Curling into a ball did nothing. The kicks against his back rang in his kidneys, and that was when he managed to holler, but a boot on his face smothered him.

The pain, the raw agony of it, was drowning him.

Pass out, pass out, pass out-

Coppery blood filled his mouth, invading his sinuses. He choked, blinded by red when he tried to look at the dark figures around him.

Everything hurt. It all stung. Things burned.

And it felt like hours before they stopped.

He gargled past the blood, but only one eye worked. His head throbbed, and he wondered if his brain was swelling out of his ears.

A pale hand in the night grabbed his shirt and yanked up, but Nick was too heavy for him to lift.

“Orcs don’t belong with humans.” It hissed, but Nick’s vision was so blurred, all he saw were shapes and dark colors. When the figure spat on his face, it stung in the open cuts.

But those words hit him harder than anything.

Callie.

“D-don’ch fuckin’ touch’er!” he slurred, barely. He could feel the chips of a tooth lodged in his inner cheek, open and raw from his own fangs.

But the final blow of the metal pipe cracked against his skull sent him under. Into a world of black, and numb.

Ward thought it peculiar to not see Nick sat at the table in the briefing room, but brushed it off.

He figured he had a long night after he said he was planning on calling Callie.

Fucking finally, Daryl thought. Nick was like an abandoned puppy when he was sad, and he didn’t know how much more of the moping he could stand, or extra attention he felt he needed to give him even if his partner remained silent.

But as the last minutes ticked by, and he didn’t show up, Ward started to scan the room. When Nick had first joined the precinct, he’d made the mistake of waiting in the wrong room a few times, but that hadn’t happened since.

“Sit down, sit down and shut up, you assholes,” Heig announced, walking into the room that transitioned into a calm silence as he took the podium.

Their captain went about their announcements, but Daryl couldn’t stop staring at the door.

Never had Nick missed morning briefing. In the year he’d been here, he hadn’t even been late. If he took 10 seconds longer at the vending machine than intended, he’d text Ward.

He tensed his shoulder blade muscles to alleviate the discomfort. He could feel something poking the back of his head, aggravating his calm exterior.

Officers started to rise as their routes were announced. He still hoped Nick would walk in before their names were called-

“Three-Adam-Nine, Jakoby and- Ward… where the fuck is the Orc?” Heig asked over the commotion, looking at Daryl as he rose.

“I’m assuming he excused himself for the day?” Ward asked, approaching him.

“He fucking did not,” Heig muttered, flipping a few papers. “Rebecca never misses an absence call. Go find him, he’s probably wandering around somewhere.”

“Sir.” Ward acknowledged, leaving the room.

He checked everywhere. All the corners he would find Nick in when he was gloomy, and his favorite spot in the cafeteria, nor was he at the kit room or cruiser once the building had been cleared. Texts had gone unanswered as he swept the parking lot, even a phone call.

“Where’s your pet, Ward?”

Daryl turned, already knowing it was Gerrald, and met his passing sneer.

“Fuck off, pussy.”

He still chuckled as he passed, entering the building to leave Ward at the hood of the SUV. There were no carry-over calls to answer to, and as long as he could pass by Nick’s house quickly, he should be able to stay under the radar of his captain long enough to find out where the fuck Nick had up and disappeared to.

He continued to phone him, hopeful he’d answer before he finished the drive across town. Only voicemail.

“Nick pick up your fucking phone. Even if you and Callie ran off to Vegas at least tell me so Heig don’t fuck us both over.” he said angrily, ending the call.

He probably wouldn’t have been too pissed after the 30 minutes drive if his truck hadn’t been in his driveway, but he could only assume he was inside sleeping or something when he saw it parked there.

“Gonna fuck him up.” Ward said between clenched teeth, parking the cruiser quickly along the street and slamming the door behind him.

“Jakoby!” he shouted. Maybe if he was with Callie he’d startled them into never pulling this shit again.

But when he rounded the tail of the truck, he saw the open drivers side door, and the keys on the ground beside the wheel.

Everything stopped.

He didn’t pull his gun, but he did unclasp the strap.

“Nick?” he called, easing up on the open door and looking in. Nothing there except for Nick’s bag in the driver's seat. He backed up, scanning all his sides, looking for anything on the ground that might’ve been left behind. But who the fuck would kidnap him?

Or maybe he could’ve left somewhere in a rush?

He looked at the house, but it looked dormant. Why wouldn’t he take his keys in-

The ajar gate of the backyard fence caught him, and then the soul of a booted foot he could see behind the gate. A police issued boot.

Ward drew his gun, gliding over the ground with his shoulders pulled in until he was pressed against the tall fencing. He spun, taking both his sides, skimming the wide backyard for anyone, until he finally stepped around Nick’s motionless body.

“Nick! Nick? Jakoby?” Ward exclaimed, kneeling beside his partner.

No answer.

He checked his pulse; his rough skin was cold, but he thought he could feel the faintest trace of a heartbeat.

“Nick!” Ward yelled again, examining the extreme swelling and blood coating the Orcs face. He stood, his back against the wall of the house and his eyes stayed moving as he turned to his shoulder walkie

“Three-Adam-Nine, Code 3- I have an officer down and unresponsive. I need EMT in route immediately at 2217 Tildot Avenue. Code 999 for Officer Jakoby.” he broadcasted, kneeling by Nick again.

“Nick? Nick you gotta stay with me if you’re still there,” he demanded, shaking his shoulder.

There was nothing left of the Orc to be deemed alive, from what he could see. Cuts, mangled clothing- his middle and ring finger of his left hand bent back at an extreme angle, and blood. There was so much blood on and around him that it led Ward to assume he’d been here for hours, maybe all night.

“Jakoby c’mon,” he said again, and cleared his throat when his voice wavered.

“Three-Adam-Nine I need medical assistance now!” he shouted into the walkie.

He stayed by Nick’s side until he heard the sirens approaching, and left to the sidewalk to wave them down, pointing them in the direction of his fallen partner with his gun still gripped in his palm. More officers arrived, including their captain, who had enough heart to keep the snide comments to himself as he questioned Daryl.

It was clear Nick had been ambushed once everything was put together, but motive was unclear. His phone was near him and his wallet was still in his pocket, and they could’ve easily taken off with his truck but chose not to.

“Another Orc maybe. One man couldn’t do this, maybe if he was his equal size, but not alone,” Heig commented, jotting it down on the report. “He have enemies?”

Anyone the Fogteeth rivaled would be an enemy, Ward pondered, but shook his held. Amongst humans, his blooding was still unknown for the most part.

“We have forensics dusting and looking, so we’ll have a better idea of what happened when they’re done. You filled out your witness report?”

“Yes sir,” Ward replied, watching Nick being carted away on the gurney and into the rig. Barely stable, still unconscious. As long as he wasn’t being taken away in a black bag.

“Does he have family? Significant other?”

“I believe so,”

“Contact them. He’s going to LAC. Good work, Ward.” Heig finished, giving his arm a couple steady pats.

Good work?

Daryl watched them close the doors to the rig, and looked at the soul of Nick’s boot before he was hidden. He was handed Nick’s phone and keys in a ziploc, but realized there’d be no way of guessing his passcode, or knowing where his parents lived.

But he knew where Callie was.

↠

“It’s cute!”

“It’s not,” Callie groaned, smoothing her hands down her short hair.

“Okay but doesn’t it feel better?” Ashely smiled.

Callie glared, shaking her head slowly with a frown. “It’s like I amputated a limb,” she mumbled.

“Oh my god, drama, you’ll get used to it,” Ashely said as Callie moved to the back of the store.

“I hate it!”

The blonde chuckled and returned to organizing the front rows of candies where people deposited second guessed items when they made it to the register, tossing the randoms into the box under her arm.

“You can try wearing it up? Or dyeing it…” Ashely trailed off when the sirens she’d heard down the street were suddenly blaring through the front doors. The cruiser stopped abruptly outside, and Ashely looked at Callie who had come back from the office, a clipboard and label maker in hand.

When Ward rounded the front and sped in, she tightened her hold on the clipboard. It only took a moment to scan and find her, but Callie was looking behind him, waiting for Nick to follow in, but he never did.

“Is it…?” she breathed, unable to finish. She couldn’t finish that.

Please god no.

“He’s alive, but you need to come with me.” He labored.

“Alive-” she gasped, already panicked.

What had he survived!?

Ashely was already taking the items from her arms and switching with Callie’s bag, telling her she’d inform her Uncle. Confusion, and immense dread swarmed her eyes before she followed Ward out, the two climbing into the cruiser with lights and sirens starting up before speeding away.

hello, welcome back after the small hiatus! thanks to everyone who has left such kind words, in depth comments, and just showed general interest in this little story of mine, both on here and Ao3! i love you all, and you all keep me motivated to keep writing 😊

but please don’t kill me after this chapter c:

[maiakana]

Accent - Lee Felix

Stray Kids

masterlist

Key: fluff, humor, honestly some ranting haha

Characters: reader x felix

Count: 3.1k words

Part: 1 2 3

Description: who knew a late night run to the grocery store also meant running into a boy with a peculiar voice, literally.

Note: this was my first chapter of a fic I wanted to write but I kinda liked it as a one shot so here we go! I’m still learning so bare with the writing and mistakes! most likely will make a part 2 or 3 but no promises segrtergsefb

GIF Originally Posted by @felixeslee

You tugged your scarf closer to your face as you walked down the streets of Seoul. You were creating a mental map in your head of the area surrounding you.

Although you've been living in Seoul for 3 years already, you haven't quite gotten the hang of going around. Having almost no other connections in the country has also been making it more difficult.

The words were ringing in your ears, the lingering chill that spiked down your spine, as if they were just spoken.

"Y/N I forbid you, I swear you better come back here before you regret it."

Old news you didn’t need to think about, baggage you were still letting go.

It was later in the night, most residents and tourists have retreated into their homes and hotels by now.

However, a good handful of people were still milling about, friends hanging out, adults having late night drinks, or late night shopping. Specifically grocery shopping, which was where you fell in the categories.

The streets were illuminated by golden glows and neon colored signs, advertising hole-in-the-wall restaurants and tourist attractions. Instead, what caught your eye was everyone's fan favorite: the 24 hour convenience store, it indeed deserved that name.

A breeze from outside rushed behind you as you entered the store, your brown hair flew around your face, along with your scarf. You grabbed a basket with one hand as the other is busy trying to tame your airborne hair.

You started down the aisles, picking out the cheapest food items and ingredients you could find. The life of a student.

There was no one else in the store but the cashier, an old man who was busy watching the small TV monitor on the wall and counting money at the register, most likely his earnings from earlier in the day.

You hadn’t gone grocery shopping in a long time, living in a small dorm by yourself didn’t really prompt a lot of needs that needed to be replenished often. Not to mention your lack of eating, sometimes remembering mealtimes was easier said than done.

You filled your basket with the last few snacks that your hands could grabbed before striding towards the register. You politely greeted the cashier, reaching into the pocket of your long coat and pulling out a few coupons and cash, ready to hand them over.

While the old man scanned your items, you noticed all the posters and pictures plastered all over the wall behind him.

Idol groups: boys and girls alike, all very beautiful, a little unreal you might add. Many of them were group photo shoots but some had members individual headshots.

You recognized many groups displayed, from the big-shots like BTS, EXO, and Twice. To upcoming phenomenons like NCT's 18 member super group, just to name a few.

A sad smile curved on your lips, you had a push and pull relationship with idol groups, never quite cemented your opinions on them.

You've never had a issues with the idols themselves, in fact you used to be a huge fan, following so many groups, listening to their music, and even learning their fanchants, the whole shabang. That was the pull towards the appeal. Idols used to be your role models for as long as you could remember.

Repeat that: used to be.

The industry that produced Idols was what killed your appeal. That's the push. When you were younger you had no idea what it took to be in the limelight of the idol industry, of the trainee life.

But who could you blame, a majority of the world never knows that it takes to be successful, you were no different.

Over time, the idea of boys and girls your age being subjected to their looks and physical appearance, whether their voices were deemed alright, and collapsing from over exerting their bodies dancing. It was all too much for you, even as someone on the side lines.

Don't even get yourself started on the negatives of the fans and fandoms. However, the only light to shed on this was that at least Kpop isn’t the only industry that had extremes among those that enjoy it. Western music fans that were toxic over there, were just as extreme too.

You knew that most fans were regular people and just enjoy the music and the bands but sometimes the polarizing few become too much. Maybe it's human nature to have bad apples everywhere.

One incident you remembered a few years ago was the Shinee’s Taemin and APink’s Eaeun situation. A perfect example of the viciousness of fans and their hate and outbursts whenever they saw their idols do something they don't like.

They'd stalk, harass, and belittle anyone that was even in a 10 ft vicinity of the star. Following them around saying disgusting insults, hammering the nails even further. You don't think you’ve ever seen two people in such distress before.

It was such a shame really, for all we know Shinee's makane may have really loved her like he said on the show.

Now years later, the two are left to only avoid each other on stages and music shows when their groups cross paths. Minimizing contact at all cost to protect Eaeun from further harassment for just being around him.

And that wasn't even a scandal, some fans just couldn't stand their oppa being potentially happy with another person.

to be honest that whole section was me being emo after I watched so many videos about it and for all i know none of it was true or real or it was real and they were hurt because of it, either way i don’t feel like deleting it so sorry to anyone annoyed by it lmao

Although idols weren’t on your radar anymore, you would always know of them, it's inevitable. You were living in the time where they were growing the most international.

Music has always been a love of yours and that's all you’ve been focusing on ever since you came to Seoul. That's probably the last connection you had to idols, your love for music, your love for what you do.

The old man finished ringing you up, bagging all of your groceries and handing you the receipt.

"Hold on dear," the elder said, as he crouched down and shuffled with something under the desk.

Restlessly, you tapped your fingers against the counter. Looking around at all the idol merchandise, your eyes were drawn on to the TV monitor.

"N E X T  W E E K  O N  M N E T!" 

On the TV screen, many different clips of a few boys wearing dark clothes in a dance studio flashed by. There was a voice over, by an older man, explaining the tasks the trainees had to overcome. It was an idol survival show.

In some flashes they were sitting in a half circle talking intensely, in others they were dancing to choreography as one person sat out giving thorough feedback. However, the last clip showed a lot of the boys individually, either writing lyrics or practicing the lines.

You had barely caught the large strikingly red S and K at the end of the clip before the old man bounced up from searching below, stealing your attention again.

"Aha I found it!"

He brought out a small booklet, as if it was a manual you’d get along with a new speaker you'd buy. A manual it was not. You looked at the cover featuring a subtle sky blue with the Hangul lettering in white.

SCOUTING: COMPANY AUDITION & EMPLOYMENT INFORMATION

"You, young lady, look like these idol kids that are hung up on this wall," he gestured behind him while placing the small book into one of the bags. "We're given these little things all the time by a handful of companies to 'scout for rough potential.’ We only give them out during the day but since you're here so late I figured why not give you one eh?"

You stared oddly at the bags full of your food and now with a book that's basically a catalog of idol company hotlines. Looking back and forth between the wall of posters and the old man's kind smile you felt your cheeks blush at the gesture as you hesitantly smiled back.

"Uhh . . . thank you sir you are very generous," you stiffly bow, thanking him for the bags, still slightly baffled by the idol comment.

Ironic. You still remembered being told the same thing once, but that it’d be the only thing you’d be known for.

How superficial.

To save yourself from further embarrassment you briskly headed for the door. The chilly fall air brushed against your cheek, the bags in your hands slightly swaying due to the quick pace. Walking only a few feet away from the convenience store, you looked down at the bags thinking about what the man said.

Yeah right, become an idol your ass.

Before you could look up you felt your right shoulder collide into another figure, earning a loud yelp from the both of you. You dropped your bags as you stumbled slightly losing your balance while the other person, who you realized was a guy, stumbled on his step too.

The guy reached his hands out and gripped your arms on both sides steadying you. Because of the small tug from his motion, you had accidentally taken a step towards him, slightly closing the space between you guys.

"Are you alright?" a deep voice asked, filled with concern. Shocked, our eyes flickered to meet his. English?

He had ebony brown hair parted on the left side of his face. It was a tad longer than most of the men’s hair you see around but the way it flowed just to his eyebrows perfectly framed his sharp pale face.

He was decked in all black clothing, sneakers and all. He was only maybe 3 or 4 inches taller than you yet his dark hoodie and jeans seemed to make his figure tower over you. His jaw was angular, skin a little paler than yours and lightly dusted across his nose and cheeks were freckles.

bahaha apparently he is 5' 7  rn its okay tho because i’m hella short

"Yeah I am,"  you mumbled back, stunned by his dark eyes staring down at you.

He grinned at you showing of a white smile. He gently let go of your arms and crouched down to pick up the fallen bags. "I think we're both going to run into something worse than each other someday if we don't pay attention to where we're going."

You quirked up an eyebrow. "You speak English?"

"I don’t know, does it sound like I'm speaking Spanish?" he chuckled at his own joke. 

His voice was like the ocean itself. A deep flowing tone, miles under sea level, it was a complete contrast from the pretty face it was coming from.

Your ears seemed to ring listening to his voice. An accent of some sort? It wasn't an American accent like your own, nor was it European, it was distinct. You couldn't really put a finger on it.

"Don't take offense to this but are you a foreigner too?" you questioned.

"Hmm I wonder what gave it away," he flashed you an amused look, carefully handing over the bags full of your groceries. "But yes I am, you?"

"I guess we're both in the foreigners club here," you said looking up at him. "I'm from the States."

"Ahh so I got an American on my hands."

You furrowed your eyebrows at him half amused and half curious.

"And what's that supposed to mean huh?" you shot back. He laughed at your counter, the happy sound echoing through the street.

"I knew you couldn't have been another Aussie," he shoved his hands in his pockets, tilting his head a bit, as if thinking about how he wants to form his next comment. "Your accent made that clear, love."

You couldn’t help but giggle at his words, him following suit. So he's Korean Australian, that's new. 

You thought it was only the British that said love.

An electronic ding rings out of the boy's jacket. Quickly pulling his hands out of his pocket with a phone in grip, he opened up the device to view a message he just received.

Sighing, he typed a quick reply to the other person on the other end. You noticed the slight bags under his eyes as his faces was illuminated from the phone. His posture was relaxed but slightly rigid in some movements.

He was clearly exhausted.

When he looked back at you, you took a step back putting some distance between each other, bending down and respectfully bowed to him, greeting him in Korean.

He bowed and greeted you back.

"I'm sorry for bumping into you, I didn't realize it was possible to bump into someone in plain sight," he said, shyly scratching the back of his neck.

You waved him off. "It's okay, I should've been watching where I was going but thank you for helping me."

"It's the least I can do after I sent you spiraling," he replied. He flinched as a few more buzzes went of from his phone, clearly whoever was texting him wasn't willing to wait much longer.

Time to go.

"Looks like my fellow foreigner has to go," You said, tilting your head to the side. "Seems urgent."

"Just my hyungs," he sighed, rubbing his eyes a little. "It was my turn to get snacks for home. Didn't realize I was on a time frame though."

"Lose a bet?"

"Something like that," he said. He held a hand out with the same grin on his face from before. "Well Miss America it was nice bumping into you."

You reached out to shake his hand.

His big hand I'm sorry I snorted writing this haha was warm, delicately holding onto your smaller one, they seemed to tingle at the touch. "I could say the same thing too, Aussie."

You let go of each other hands and exchange a small bow again. The brown haired boy started a step towards the convenience store until he paused and turned back to look at you. He seemed to be debating if it was worth to ask you something.

"Are you busy tomorrow?" He asked.

"Haven't even known each other for an hour," you jokingly raised an eyebrow at him. "Straight forward I see."

He laughed while taking off his beanie, running his fingers through his hair a little. He played the edges of his sweatshirt looking a way a bit, fidgeting.

"Well if you aren't doing anything tomorrow night you should come to Sinchon. I heard there's a lot of busking in the streets since it'll be Friday," he rushed.

"And you want me to come watch with you?" you pressed back. It was an interesting hang out choice for sure, but he's sparked your curiosity. You wanted to mess with him a little longer. "How will I find you? Doesn't seem safe to just give my phone number to a stranger I met on the street. I mean come on we haven't even exchanged names."

His face perked up. Clearly surprised that you were playing along with him. "It's Felix, Lee Felix. And what does my favorite foreigner call themselves?

"Ha ha ha you think you're so witty don't you? I'm Min y/n."

His eyes glistened under the city lights, you felt your heart pound faster at the way his face changed into content after learning your name. "So what do you say miss y/n? Care to join a night of fun with your favorite foreigner?"

"Hmm, maybe you'll see me there," you joked sarcastically. "How am I supposed to turn down the offer of a lifetime?"

You weren’t lying to be honest, even though the idea of watching some buskers was interesting, you weren’t completely sure if you could go. You had a long schedule for tomorrow but you didn't have the heart to ruin his excitement.

Felix's hand shot down back into his pocket to fish out his phone again before handing it to you looking away quickly, avoiding your eyes.

"Maybe you'll feel better if we had a way to let each other know when we'll be there," he mumbled, his cheeks tinting a bit pink.

"Is that how you're going to ask for my number?"

"If it's working then yes."

Laughing at his honestly you gingerly took the phone out of his hands and put in your number. His fingers lightly brushed against your own causing tingles to travel up your hands. 

Ignoring the flutters in your stomach, you frantically typed in your info, becoming very embarrassed every time you made a typo. Feeling a heavy gaze watching you, you had barely missed the small comment that slipped out of his lips. 

"Cute," he muttered under his breath.

You felt like digging yourself in a hole while you waited for him to put in his own number on your phone, openly spamming in some middle school emoji choices for the heck of it.

His cheeks raised up as a smile lit up on his face. "Can't wait to see you there!" You nodded happily at him trying to calm the nerves that were spreading through your body. 

What kind of trouble were you getting yourself into?

You urged him to finally head towards the store, it was like you could hear more message alerts already coming of his phone from a mile away. Waving goodbye as we walked away from each other, you couldn't help but feel the excitement building up already inside. You haven't had a light hearted conversation like this in a long time.

You closed your eyes seeing the painted image of his dark eyes looking down at you, hearing his deep voice that hilariously did not match his face. 

His voice.

You whipped around from where you were, only a few feet further from the store and where you just spoke. You spotted the same boy right in front of the store, just about to push the door in.

"Hey Aussie!" 

Your shout echoed through the empty dark street. The sky was clear and the moon was out, a perfect chilly day in November. 

He turned to your direction surprised at your call. Doing the same head tilt like before, he was about to reply until you beat him to it.

"I like your accent." 

His eyes twinkled a bit as he smirked back, amused.

"I like yours too."