#there's something about him that screams strings bitch to me idk man

[jedi-starbird]

this might only make sense to me but i wholeheartedly believe that after the war Cody ends up being not a guard or vode senator but 1st violin in the coruscanti symphony orchestra

[kithtaehyung]

You won’t hold my hand (and you don’t have to thank you thank you thank you! Like still some angsty shit ahead but god am i relieved holy fuck), but you will read my live reactions… though i think i misunderstood and misinterpreted the brother reveal…

- Holding on to the order of angst, fluff, smut, idk if its the same order every time in the description but with the rest of the tags, if smut is last, there has to be plenty of fluff

- IT’S NOT NAMJOON!!!!!!!!!!!

- IT’S NOT HOBI!!!!!!!!!!!!!

- “If you can focus on your work shit, he can, too.” All up in his mind like Beyonce

- I saw her!!!!!!!! - biting my hand to not scare my neighbors

- Oh god, Ryen, dont take this from us: “Yoongi decides that he wants more of it. In a lot of other aspects of his life.”

- Jungkook no!!!! It better be Dom, please be Dom!!!!!

- “You were able to pull him upward.” Baby please continue to pull through oh god no fuck ahhh

- “If he’s gonna bow out, he’s gonna do all the shit he wants to do first. One last time before reality fully severs the string that shouldn’t have tethered to your heart.” No he’s going to break her… no no no no no

- ITS NOT JIN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! OHMYGOD!!!!!!!

- “If it was Yuri instead…” oop!!

- “Of course, this could just be another byproduct of your worrying, so you blaze past it. No more of that, remember? He’s proven himself over and over that you don’t have to second guess.” Ryen no!!!! How could you!!! Worry, girl worry!!!!

- “Kook said he saw you today.” YES YOONGI!!!!!!! TALK IT OUT FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!!!!!!

- “Told him I’m seeing someone.” YES!!!!!!!!

- “He didn’t say no. He didn’t say no. Don’t assume anything and just follow his lead.” YES!!! RYEN THE BACK AND FORTH!!!! THIS IS TOO MUCH!!!

- “I could answer for him.” God this is so sexy… Ryen my emotions are all over the fucking place!! Im shaking!!!!!

- “Without even knowing if your feelings would reflect off the Moon.” Oh god, so painfully beautiful

- “Realizing that the last conversation you’ll have here mirrors the very first.” I’m really holding on to the hope that since there is so much angst already this will end in fluff 🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽

- “before going back to the table. // Where Yoongi hasn’t moved at all.” Ooo he’s replaying that convo from the other girl that happened there too isnt he… oh god

- “This old, silly man.” God i love her, please turn the tables and realize the power you have!!!!

- “I want all of it.” YEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSS!!!! COMMUNICATIOOOOOOOOOON!!!!!!

- “And you’ll be okay. No matter what happens now, you’ll brave those waters.” Ryen, I can’t, this is everything! Everything!

- “Your dick is big and I wanna suck it.” Ryen!!!! I love her!!!!!

- “The whole world needs to hear that.” I know there are still problems, and that they know there are… but they are so in love! Oh my god!!! 😭😭😭😭

- “But you won’t say them tonight. Partly because you don’t want to overshadow his vulnerability, and partly because there’s still a slice of you that needs a little more assurance.” Ah! Good for her!!!!

- Oh my god Holly!!!!!!!!!

- “You make me feel safe.” Yes boo tell her!!! Oh my god!!

- “Holy fuck, what else has he been screaming without a word?” shit

- “His hold on you gets tighter, and you feel the warmth of something sliding down your neck.” Shit shit shit shit shit shit oh god can i handle his tears??

- Ryen… the overstimulation… the riding… hands down the best smut i ever read, so filthy!!!

- “Gonna warn you now: you might get tired of me, doll.” 😭😭😭😭 thank you thank you thank you thank you

- Of fuck we’re doing Friday too??? Oh god… please dont be more angst oh god!!!

- “Because you’re a princess, he would say. And every princess needs a guard.” This is so fucking sweet i love this so much!!!!

- “Where’s my hi?” Bitch! Is he fuckin insane?!!?!?

- “Maybe telling him about Yoongi will be somewhat okay.” Oh god it’s going to be terrible oh my god

- “Feel like y’all can pick up where you left off.” Oh shit, oh god please dont send Yoongi back oh fuck

- “Yoongi [10:06pm]: It’s all good. I got us” oh thank fuck

And Jin is the brother?? For some reason i misread the convo and thought bro was saying his name like another person was in town. But he was talking in the third person… which is on brand lol

And for the record i did cry it was so beautiful. Just, all the dialogue as she is bravely stating what she wants as he’s eeking out his own confessions. Fucking masterful! I’m in awe, man. You’re so good at this! 💕

Now I have to go eat because I havnt yet lol

As always, just thank you!!

-🚌

Ooooooooh, I read things right the first time then! It’s not Jin, got it! -🚌

AHHHHH BUSSS i'm finally getting able to respond to the spoiler heavy reviews so let's get it😤

You won’t hold my hand (and you don’t have to thank you thank you thank you! Like still some angsty shit ahead but god am i relieved holy fuck), but you will read my live reactions… though i think i misunderstood and misinterpreted the brother reveal… Holding on to the order of angst, fluff, smut, idk if its the same order every time in the description but with the rest of the tags, if smut is last, there has to be plenty of fluff

that's correct!! i said i wouldn't hold any hands bc the fluff at the end :))) i wanted to spoil everyone but of course, we had to go through some TOUGH shit first ughhh. and i love live reactions! they're so fun to read lmfao i don't mind at alll. you ended up being right the first time, yeah dkdfjd it's none of them!

i always put it in the same order (angst, fluff, smut) since it's alphabetical :D putting it in different orders for the fic would be wayyy too spoiler-y !! wanna keep y'all on ur toes ehehe

- IT’S NOT NAMJOON!!!!!!!!!!! IT’S NOT HOBI!!!!!!!!!!!!! “If you can focus on your work shit, he can, too.” All up in his mind like Beyonce

ITS NOT THEMMM just rapline in the studio doing their thing :DD and he's still thinking of reader.. sigh..

- I saw her!!!!!!!! - biting my hand to not scare my neighbors Oh god, Ryen, dont take this from us: “Yoongi decides that he wants more of it. In a lot of other aspects of his life.” Jungkook no!!!! It better be Dom, please be Dom!!!!!

as soon as the her came out, it was all sorts of overthinking for us! and the quote that you put for yoongi :(( ughhhh yeah.

IT BETTER BE DOM DFHKSDHFSDF SDF

- “You were able to pull him upward.” Baby please continue to pull through oh god no fuck ahhh “If he’s gonna bow out, he’s gonna do all the shit he wants to do first. One last time before reality fully severs the string that shouldn’t have tethered to your heart.” No he’s going to break her… no no no no no

gosh, yoongi's and jungkook's whole conversation was full of unspoken feelings on both of their parts. and it's so sad to think that jk sees this as a beginning of sorts and yoongi sees it as the beginning of an end.

- “Of course, this could just be another byproduct of your worrying, so you blaze past it. No more of that, remember? He’s proven himself over and over that you don’t have to second guess.” Ryen no!!!! How could you!!! Worry, girl worry!!!! - “Kook said he saw you today.” YES YOONGI!!!!!!! TALK IT OUT FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!!!!!! “Told him I’m seeing someone.” YES!!!!!!!! “He didn’t say no. He didn’t say no. Don’t assume anything and just follow his lead.” YES!!! RYEN THE BACK AND FORTH!!!! THIS IS TOO MUCH!!! “I could answer for him.” God this is so sexy… Ryen my emotions are all over the fucking place!! Im shaking!!!!!

the whole first kitchen scene took a long time to write. not as long as the second kitchen scene that took all of my brain power, but this one also took some writing and rearranging and editing/deleting. like the 3tan9 scraps docs is 3k+ words. i had to shave off a lot that didn't seem like it fit right! but i'm proud of reader for telling yoongi what she said to jk. like. that's a huge admission (aND it's literally reader's last thought in sundress season!!!! this wasn't a surprise but it is to yoongi :')))) )

yoongi saying "i could answer for him" got me good i'm glad you pointed that line out too LMAO

- “Without even knowing if your feelings would reflect off the Moon.” Oh god, so painfully beautiful “Realizing that the last conversation you’ll have here mirrors the very first.” I’m really holding on to the hope that since there is so much angst already this will end in fluff 🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽 “before going back to the table. // Where Yoongi hasn’t moved at all.” Ooo he’s replaying that convo from the other girl that happened there too isnt he… oh god

i'm glad you like the sun/moon analogy!! and i wanted to tie back to it with yoongi's kiss being moonlight. because.. what is moonlight? :'))) god i'm emotional all over again SDFKDFH

oh my goddd your last point i'm gonna fcking flip this gd table!!!!

- “This old, silly man.” God i love her, please turn the tables and realize the power you have!!!! “I want all of it.” YEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSS!!!! COMMUNICATIOOOOOOOOOON!!!!!! “And you’ll be okay. No matter what happens now, you’ll brave those waters.” Ryen, I can’t, this is everything! Everything!

old reader would've never called him silly. this was such a simple yet really hard hitting line for me.

COMMUNICATION BABYYY WE ARE ADULTS AND WE'RE GONNA FCKING T A L K. AND WE LOVE IT. yoongi's a straight-shooter. we know this. but after everything he's been thinking about himself? this was huge. and reader's braving the waters of her ocean<333

- “Your dick is big and I wanna suck it.” Ryen!!!! I love her!!!!! “The whole world needs to hear that.” I know there are still problems, and that they know there are… but they are so in love! Oh my god!!! 😭😭😭😭 “But you won’t say them tonight. Partly because you don’t want to overshadow his vulnerability, and partly because there’s still a slice of you that needs a little more assurance.” Ah! Good for her!!!!

I LOVE READER TOO i legit cackled when those words came out lmfaoooo and her saying that to yoongi, a very private person that doesn't show anyone his shit? that meant the universe, i feel like. she's so genuine and he just. i. don't even have words atp....

- Oh my god Holly!!!!!!!!! “You make me feel safe.” Yes boo tell her!!! Oh my god!! “Holy fuck, what else has he been screaming without a word?” shit “His hold on you gets tighter, and you feel the warmth of something sliding down your neck.” Shit shit shit shit shit shit oh god can i handle his tears??

HOLLYYYYYYY YESSSS and the feeling safe conversation?? like. psychological safety is incredibly important, and yoongi gives that to reader. we knew this. but she does the same for him and now that she knows what's going on in that brain of his? oh. i am so fcking excited to explore even more growth for the both of them.

- Ryen… the overstimulation… the riding… hands down the best smut i ever read, so filthy!!! “Gonna warn you now: you might get tired of me, doll.” 😭😭😭😭 thank you thank you thank you thank you

wait are you fr?? the best??? no wait that's too much praise i- thank you so damn much!!

and of course we have one of my fave lines from yoongi bc what did he say in a previous 3tan ask/tell? THISSS.

- Of fuck we’re doing Friday too??? Oh god… please dont be more angst oh god!!! “Because you’re a princess, he would say. And every princess needs a guard.” This is so fucking sweet i love this so much!!!! “Where’s my hi?” Bitch! Is he fuckin insane?!!?!? “Maybe telling him about Yoongi will be somewhat okay.” Oh god it’s going to be terrible oh my god “Feel like y’all can pick up where you left off.” Oh shit, oh god please dont send Yoongi back oh fuck “Yoongi [10:06pm]: It’s all good. I got us” oh thank fuck

we were doing friday too yessss!! i was about to cut it at the night at yoongi's, but i was like.. nah. we're doing this fck it lmao. i think it turned into a much more fitting ending spot, too.

AND HOBI I KNOWWWWWWWW but then. then. yoongi. i wanna box him so fcking bad put me in the ring right now.

finally we have the reason bro wanted reader to stay for the party. he wanted to surprise both of them. so that should say something about his feelings towards jungkook..

I GOT US. USSSSSS. GOODBYEEEEEEEE

And for the record i did cry it was so beautiful. Just, all the dialogue as she is bravely stating what she wants as he’s eeking out his own confessions. Fucking masterful! I’m in awe, man. You’re so good at this! 💕

argh you are so so nice for this amazing live commentary! i laughed, cried, everything. sending you tissues and a hug ASAPPP i'm honored you think it's masterful.. kinda blushing kinda shy kinda hiding in my hoodie hahahah thank you endlessly, bus!!!

[reidsnose]

horror film

overview: reader and spencer watch a scary movie and spook themselves into cuddling

genre: fluff/angst?(yall are scared bc of the movie)/kind of humor

warnings: light swearing, mentions of idk like spooky ghost stuff

a/n: i definitely have been watching far too many horror movies for my own good but i dont have a spencer reid to cuddle up with lmao anyway i hope you guys enjoy it !!! please please let me know what you thing :)

masterlist

-

-

Spencer didn't understand. after all you guys see throughout the day, you want to come home and watch a horror movie. your whole lives were like one big horror movie.

but, regardless, he would walk to the ends of the earth for you (though he did not plan on telling you that), so watching a scary movie with you wouldn't be so bad. in fact, anything would be good with you. he would happily get a root canal if it meant spending more time with you.

he tried to convince himself: a scary movie is like halloween! and he loves halloween. reading about it. learning about it. but getting his adrenaline pumping via jump scare? hmmm..maybe not.

he didn't watch many horror films when he was a kid. his mom didn't do very well with them. and he liked his foreign films better. but watching the light in your eyes twinkle when you asked him to come over to watch together because you were scared to watch alone? how could he say no?

and you were beyond excited to have him over. even though you guys had already hung out outside of work before, you almost never got to pick the movies. truth be told that was because you went along with almost anything he said so you could get closer. and you planned on watching the movie at a friendly distance.

keyword: planned.

but it was now halfway through the movie and you were both cuddled up together in the corner of the couch. and from the beginning of the movie, anytime something remotely creepy happened, Spencer would lean over and whisper what a reasonable explanation could be. or tell you how statistically improbable the events of a certain scene was. and so you two drew closer and closer. and he convinced himself he was telling you the statistics and facts to make sure you dont get too scared; but really it was himself he was trying to calm down.

the movie was what it said it was; scary. but you had watched your fair share of horror movies, and though a couple of the jump scares got you, you were getting a little disinterested and distracted.

every time he leaned over (rather, now he was leaning down) and whispered something to you, you had to fight the urge to kiss him. not to mention. you were snuggled up to you're best friend who you were secretly crushing on and he was pulling you impossibly closer with every creepy scene that flashed on screen. and you were more exhausted than you knew. and Spencer was just so damn comfortable its like the guys arms were made to dream in!

so you started dozing off.

not Spencer.

he couldn't tell if his heart was beating from using you as his own personal teddy bear, or from the horrifying, ghastly scenes unfolding on screen. he didnt even notice you had fallen asleep until he leaned down, eyes glue to the screen, to whisper how unlikely the existence of ghosts was, and you didn't answer. he looked down and let himself audibly sigh. a smile cracking on his lips at the irony of you falling asleep during a horror movie.

one last jump scare had woken you up at the very end of the movie. not so much the jump scare, but the jerk of Spencer's entire body and the slight yelp he let out. and you found yourself feeling sad that Spencer was going to go home.

you told him he could stay if he was scared, to which he replied he was completely not scared (though his lie was very obvious). and having not watched most of the movie, you were able to fall back asleep in no time.

that was not the case for Spencer.

he was incredibly paranoid as he walked up the stairs, afraid an evil spirit would be waiting to scare him in his apartment. and when he lied down to sleep, every shadow that appeared in his room seemed to resemble a ghost. he tossed and turned petrified for about an hour before deciding he couldn't stay alone in his apartment.

so he found himself driving back to your apartment at about midnight to ask if he could sleep in the guest bedroom.

when he arrived at your door you let out a chuckle at his request, giving him a sort of "told you so" talking to as you made arrangements in the guest room so he'd be comfortable. and boy did this make him feel better. he was still very scared, but it wasn't nearly as bad because he knew you were just a room away. he opted to get a glass of water to try and calm down.

you, however, had just now started to be scared as images replayed in your head of things that go bump in the night. you tossed and turned trying not to look at the shadowy corners of your room, but you just couldn't fall back asleep. so you decided to make your way to the kitchen for some water, keeping your head down to avoid spooking yourself via the various oddly shaped nicknacks in your home.

Spencer stiffened as he felt a presence in the room, and he turned to see the shadowy figure of a woman, hobbling towards him, head trained on the floor. he couldn't scream, he couldn't run, he couldn't do anything but stare terrified at the figure.

you looked up as you neared the kitchen, letting out a blood curdling scream when you saw a tall shadow man standing in your kitchen.

Spencer could scream now that the figure began screaming. he let out a high pitched yelp as he stumbled along the wall looking for the light switch. he felt the need to protect you from the ghost, so in a fit of deranged manliness he let out a string of words that in or out of context is completely laughable.

"fuck off you spooky bitch!" the shadow man yelled, finally finding the light switch.

when the light flicked on the confusion and horror stopped. and instead you and Spencer stood equally spooked, in your fight or flight response.

"Spencer?" you croaked, lowering a raised fist. you planned on fighting a ghost?

"y/n?" he asked back equally confused.

"i was getting water what are you doing?" you asked, laughing slightly as you realized what he had yelled out.

"i was too," he chuckled, remembering what he had called out, "sorry for telling you to fuck off and calling you a spooky bitch."

"its ok, sorry for being 100% ready to punch you in the neck."

you two stood in a silence that wasn't exactly comfortable but not awkward either as you got a glass and filled it with water.

"hey do-" he began.

"could i-" you started at the same time.

"you go first," he chuckled, taking a sip of his water.

"i wont be mad if you say no, but could i sleep in the guest bed with you? my room has way too many spooky corners." you asked shyly.

"i was just about to ask that," he smiled.

you let out a relieved sigh before gulping down your water and heading to sleep in the guest room.

you two lied weirdly far at first but after mentioning how the coat hanger looked like a man with horns you two both reached for each other. falling asleep wrapped tightly in each others arms. hearts beating together quickly; but not because of fear.

-

-

utra mega super cool taglist:

@mac99martin @imhreid @spencersmagic @hollydaisy23 @raelady1184 @a-broken-pact @padfootswife @hey-there-angels @star-stuff-in-the-cosmos @sonnydoesrandomshit @coffeereid-deactivated20210303 @averyhotchner @laurakirsten0502 @reidyoulikeabook @remariiana @spencerreid9

[cinnaminsvga]

by the way | jungkook

→ summary: there are only two weeks left until graduation—which means you only have two weeks left until you’ll be nothing more than a facebook birthday notification on his phone (unless you do something about it, of course.) → genre: high school!au, humor, slight angst → warnings: none unless you’re terrified of two idiots mutually pining for e/o → words: 1.2K → a/n: ain’t it kinda weird that there were some people you met in high school that you considered your “friend” but never kept in touch with them after graduation? like ships that have sailed past each other, only being left with some hope of crossing someday. idk, high school was weird. anyway, enjoy!

—part of the bgw drabble marathon (Tropes #5)—

“So, have you asked anyone out to the graduation ball yet?” Hoseok asks you suddenly, his words muffled by the disgusting amount of pasta in his mouth. 

From the corner of your eye, Jungkook’s shoulders tense. You don’t mean to notice—you weren’t even supposed to be looking at him. He has his gaze trained downwards, shooting lasers at his rice with enough intensity to cook it twice over. 

“No, I haven’t,” you respond eventually. 

“Time is running out you know! It wouldn’t look good if the class valedictorian arrived at the party without some good ol’ eye candy,” Hoseok says. 

You scoff, taking a sip of your lukewarm apple juice. “Who says I need a man to make me look good?”

“Or woman, for that matter!” Chaeyoung pipes up. She wiggles her eyebrows, leaning across the lunch table until her chest almost gets a platter full of greasy cafeteria pizza. “You know, the offer is still open. I guarantee that if we went together, we’d be the prettiest bitches in the entire ballroom!”

You laugh, shaking your head. “You’re right, we would be… minus the fact that you’ve been pining over Eunbi for God knows how long, and it would be seriously shitty of me to deny you your last chance of getting together with her.”

Chaeyoung leans back, acquiesced. “Alright, you got me there,” she sighs, crossing her arms. “Still, you know I would drop everything and anything if you asked.”

“Not me though, I’m a selfish whore,” Jimin interrupts, reaching his minimum quota of giving his unsolicited opinion. He points finger guns at you. “I’m bringing my hot and sexy college boyfriend to the ball.”

“Oh right, how could we ever forget your mysterious ‘college’ boyfriend,” Hoseok scoffs, the quotation marks audible in his voice. “The one that we’ve never seen or heard of before, and also conveniently lives in a different city that is miles from here? That boyfriend?”

“Shut up!” Jimin glares, pointing his sharpened acrylic nail at him. “You’ll eat your words once you see how fucking gorgeous and hot and REAL my boyfriend is!” He turns to you, brows still quirked in irritation. “Anyway, as I was saying. Even though I’m going to the ball with my snookywookums, I’m willing to scout a date for you if you want.”

“I don’t think snookywookums is a Scrabble-verified word,” Hoseok says under his breath, nearly causing you to snort your pasta up your nose. 

“T-Thank you, Jimin,” you say, coughing through your laughter. Lucky for Hoseok, Jimin’s massive ego doubles as a noise-cancelling material. “But I’m fine, really. I’m more than happy just hanging out with my best friends over some random guy.”

“Aww, that’s so sweet!” Chaeyoung coos, pinching your cheeks. 

“–and also improbable,” Hoseok snorts. “These two whores are definitely gonna spend that entire night fucking their dates,” Hoseok says, jabbing his thumb at your resident bimbo-himbo combo, “while I will be busy with DJ-ing at the event, so you’re pretty much outta luck, chief.”

“What the fuck? You’re gonna DJ at our fucking graduation ball?” you squawk. “Why the hell would you volunteer to do that?”

“For… experience?”

“Really.” 

Hoseok raises his hands in surrender with a pout. “Okay, fine. Maybe I wanted to impress Namjoon. Fucking sue me for being a hypocrite!” 

“Ahah! The ogre has fallen in love with the prince!” Jimin hollers, earning himself a pinch in the tit from Hoseok.

You huff, annoyed. “Am I really being abandoned by all my friends? On one of our final days together as classmates before we inevitably part ways towards adulthood?”

A beat of guilty silence. Then:

“Yep!

“Totally!”

“You guys suck!”

You groan in defeat, rolling your eyes. “Fine then! I guess Jungkook and I will have to entertain each other, right Kook?”

The boy in question, who had been eerily quiet this entire lunch period, jolts in his seat after suddenly being addressed. His elbow hits the table with a bang, causing an impressive string of expletives to spill from his mouth. 

Jimin snorts, amused. “Damn, you good? What’s got loverboy all jumpy?” 

“Don’t call me loverboy,” Jungkook says through gritted teeth, his jaw clenched as he cradles his injured elbow. 

“Well someone clearly pissed in your Cheerios. What’s up? Why are you being all broody and sulky?” Hoseok asks.

“I’m not being broody,” Jungkook says broodily. For a brief moment, your gaze catches his, but he quickly averts his eyes before you can get a good glimpse at the unknown emotion that tints them. “I just… got a bad grade in Chemistry. That’s all.”

“First time? I guess senioritis doesn’t hit all of us the same,” Jimin sniffs. “By the way, Kook. Do you have a date for the ball? If you do, then we can all shame Y/N into looking for a date and not feel guilty about it.”

“Hey!” you whine, but your attention is focused on Jungkook. You hold your breath, a looming sense of dread rising up your stomach like bile. A desperate plea rings through your head, crying out, “Please say you’ll go with me.”

As friends, you remind yourself.

Sure Jan, your inner voice replies.

Jungkook barks out a laugh, but it sounds hollow. “I, umm…” he trails off, fidgeting in his seat awkwardly. He puts down his chopsticks, wiping his clammy hands on his jeans. “I’m still, uh, working up the courage to ask her…”

“HER?! YOU LIKE GIRLS?” Chaeyoung screams, horrified. “Then why the FUCK have you been rejecting all those poor girls for the past four years?”

“I just wasn’t interested, I guess,” he shrugs. He pauses. “Wait, did you not know I was straight?”

“Kookie, I don’t know if you haven’t noticed, but you recoil like a raccoon being spritzed with water every time a woman so much as looks at you,” Hoseok points out.

“I’m just shy,” he grumbles. 

To your left, Jimin nudges you gently. “Did you know?” he whispers, brows arched.

“Of course I did,” you snap. “That boy uses five-in-one shampoo and soap.”

Jimin leans back into his seat, a mystified expression on his face. “Damn, you’re right. And here I thought you just liked pining over him because you were a masochist.”

You choke on your own spit, feeling as though a large stone has just been dropped on your esophagus. You whirl towards Jimin with a death glare, but the shithead barely flinches in response. “What the fuck did you just say?” you seethe, panic clear in your voice.

“What did you say?” Jungkook repeats after you, jaw agape. You both make eye contact, and you notice the way Jungkook’s cheeks have flushed a deep red. You have no doubt in your mind that you aren’t faring any better. Shit!

“Now, we don’t have time to unpack all of that,” Hoseok interrupts. He gestures to the clock by the wall, which shows that your lunch period is about to end. He slams his lunch container shut, a large smirk on his face. “But this will definitely be a fun conversation for later, and I want front row seats.”

“Ditto! Text me once you’re out of your last class, okay?” Chaeyoung says, standing up with Hoseok. She blows a kiss your way and pats Jungkook endearingly on the head. “You guys have English together, right? Should be fun!”

“Gotta blast,” Jimin says, scrambling out of his seat before you can snap out of your daze long enough to twist his balls into a ponytail. He throws a mock salute at you, toothy grin on full display. “Have fun!”

Now left alone (i.e. abandoned) by your friends, you tentatively turn to look at Jungkook. You swallow thickly, cheeks flamin’ hot. “So, by the way…. About that date?”

[blueprint-han]

desert rose — yang jeongin.

↪ “ Because love and a red rose could never be truly hid. ”

— “ You’d have never thought that one incident would’ve enlightened you of how much in love you were with your childhood best friend, but it turns out to be more of a problem when you’re threatened with a life-ending disease with no cure whatsoever. Or so you thought. ”

pairing: jeongin x reader

genre: hanahaki au; fluff, angst with a happy ending.

⇥ warnings: hanahaki disease, mentions of blood (not very graphic but enough that it’s tagged), lots of angst, also in this world the hanahaki surgery isn’t discovered yet, because it’s a fairly recent discovery, also y/n’s dad is nowhere mentioned in this fic idk take it as you like but i imagined him to pass away when y/n was 12 for some reason :((, please do not read if you triggered by topics of death or blood or disease! These themes will be prevalent though not in super explicit detail, they are still there. If I missed a warning, let me know. <3

word count: 11.09 K

type: long one-shot.

⇥ disclaimer: this fiction does not represent the activities of the real Yang Jeongin, nor is associated with JYPE in any form. Events are pure fiction. ♡

part of: the @bystay​ skznta event, written for @stayndays​ !!

song: inspired from Desert Rose by Lolo Zouaï <3 No relation to the fic but it did inspire the ~vibes~.

↯ note: I’m gonna be honest this tired me out so much that I’m glad I finished it, it took me longer than I expected and it got longer than I expected, but nonetheless, here you go shayna! Hi!! It’s me! Your secret santa! Sorry I couldn’t send you that many asks because my uni is a bitch™, and I wish I could’ve made this better, but I guess this will have to do for now. I hope you like it, and I loved being your santa! 🥺 I hope we can interact more in the future, and this isn’t edited so pls go easy on me （＞人＜；）eiury2y4er okay happy reading! <3 love you shayna! <3 I wish I could give this more editing time :( but... i hope u still like it!  ⇥ dawn.☀️

Jeongin’s eyes are really pretty.

The first time you'd made this miniscule observation was during your summer vacation road trip when the sun shined a tad bit overly bright, and Jeongin’s umbrella had a hole in it. The exact details of how it ended up torn don’t matter, but the way Jeongin’s eyes seemed to shimmer in the harsh noon sun almost made it seem worth it.

You remember it clearly — He’d smiled brightly when his eyes met yours, eyes crinkling into tiny little half-moons before his expression turned neutral. At that moment, you were lost into the abyss that was his midnight black orbs. They seemed to hold glimmering stars in them, ones that outshone the specks of white in the night sky.

Looking back, you didn’t think of it much, opting to shake your head off it’s daze before running to where Jeongin stood, throwing a bottle of water into his backpack and laughing at some corny jokes the rest of the group cracked.

Jeongin was a friend — a good friend. In fact, you could call him your best friend, though it had never been verbalized. You couldn’t remember exactly when or how you’d gotten closer to him — it just happened, like everything important in this world did. Like how Jeongin says “It was fate, Y/N, fate” in that old-man-philosopher voice to get you to laugh (Of course it would never work, but you’d still laugh, because anything to see him give you that bright, toothy grin and that little scrunch of his nose in acknowledgement).

The memory of how it all started  is as clear as the sky, as pure as the pigment of a rose.

“Don’t stray too far away, alright? Meet me back here in two hours.” The instructor screams, and all the students chime in with a collective “Yes, ma’am!”. 

 “Good, now go collect your flowers.”

A flower-picking expedition isn’t a common event in a school field trip, at least in your school. You’re more used to the normal visits to the ice cream factory, or the butterfly park (which, to be fair, had some pretty flowers, if only you could pick them) or another affiliated school. Nevertheless, you don’t complain, because the prospect of your school giving you a chance to collect all the pretty flowers you could spot here had you on top of the clouds.

You’re allowed to go alone or in groups of two, and of course, Jeongin has you by the arm the moment your teacher had screamed “Disperse!” at the top of her lungs (P.E teachers had a thing for screaming, apparently). Ignoring the teasing glances the other boys made towards the both of you, you set sail on your path, scanning all the bushes for any wild and unique flowers you could find.

“Oh look, there’s one!” You pointed out after a good four-minute-walk, almost stumbling in your one-inch-too-tight-shoes and ignoring Jeongin’s giggle at your antics. You beckoned him over to where you were standing and he obliged, tucking his sweater paws into his pockets before walking over to where you were staring at the pretty flower.

So, flowers. They’d always fascinated you. You’d developed said fascination ever since you were six. Something about the sheer way the petals were arranged, the various ranges of coloring — vivid, gradient, muted — the beauty of something so delicate and intricate always drew you in. You found yourself examining a flower for hours, and surprisingly, you never grew tired of it. They’d helped you through a lot when you felt particularly down, too. Perfect distraction — snuggling against Jeongin’s arm and playing with the flower he’d always pick out for every visit, surrounded by calming; almost numbing silence along with the sound of his steady breathing, maybe sometimes his heartbeat too when he’d get overly affectionate. Flowers in a way, in every way, were your escape. You loved them. 

“Hmmm.” Jeongin hummed over the sounds of the leaves susurrating and rustling on the ground, the wind enveloping you like a cold, yet oddly comfortable blanket. He fixed his round glasses over his nose, quickly flipping through his encyclopedia. No one really questioned him as to why he carried it wherever he went — but just like you, he had a vivid fascination for flowers too. It was something the both of you fit like a glove on, and you were beyond grateful to meet someone who could click with you so well.

“This is wolfsbane, we can’t pick it.” He said, shaking his head. “It’s poisonous, the whole plant is.”

“Oh…” You pouted, staring at the flower once more. You took in the sight of lush, violet petals, the way they wrapped around the centre and had almost no smell.

“Hey.” He touched your hand worriedly. “You didn’t touch them, right?”

“No, I didn’t. I know better than to touch plants without knowing what they are.”

“Good.” There you could see it again. That lovely, bright smile, one more of relief this time. When you looked into his eyes, you seemed lost — you could capture every flutter of his lashes against his cheeks, count every lustrous star that was laid in his eyes. “That’s good, the poison can be absorbed easily through your skin.”

“Yeah.” You let yourself smile at him, hands dropping down to fiddle with the hem of your frock. 

“Come on, I wanna get some shots for my book. Plus some flowers.” Pulling at your hand, he led you amidst the varying degrees of green and the damp smell of grass for a good distance, before halting in front of a bush. You knew what he’s referencing to by ‘shots’. The camera that hangs around his back, ready to immortalize the memory into his SD card, or rather make a polaroid (or a painting, if he’s being artistic) and tape it to his notebook along with the pressed flower.

“Look!”

Trip a step back, and you yelp at the sudden intrusion to your pace, pouting at Jeongin before looking in the direction he had his eyes fixated on. “Roses.” You giggle, kneeling in front of the bush and hissing when you feel the damp coldness of the grassy floor seep into your knees. “They’re pretty.” 

You can barely hear the sound of students walking past you — the moment seems almost captivating — nothing heard, nothing felt except the whirring of the wind, and the fresh smell of various plants mixed together, it carries.

This part of the garden seems particularly shady and cool, and some of the roses haven’t bloomed yet. A few rosebuds, a few half-bloomed roses, and two fully bloomed, deep red roses, sitting nicely against the green foliage.

Jeongin kneels before you, and you turn to smile at him, chortling at the way his glasses are about to fall over his nose again. You ruffle his black hair gently before fixing the glasses up his nose. 

“You might wanna get a chain attached to that thing. You know those strings that go around your neck and to your glasses to hold them in place?”

Jeongin chuckles. “It’s alright. I don’t like my glasses anyways.”

“Whyyy…?” You whine, poking his arm playfully before directing your focus back on the rose. “You look so adorable with them.”

Your friend feels a smile tug at his lips, leaning in to pinch your cheeks lightly. “You’re adorable.” He says, before focusing on the rose, (thankfully) oblivious to the way your cheeks feel warm after his action.

“Here, let me pick them out and then we can press them into our journals.” Yes. The both of you have matching journals, owing to your near obsession with flowers. You oft share them with each other and get fascinated by how the other views the flower, how they delicately craft words into how the little gift of nature meant to them. It’s a heartwarming tradition — one of the main reasons you follow it till date. 

Jeongin pulls out a pair of scissors from his satchel, and albeit with a lot of force (and the adorable nose scrunch™, manages to cut off a decent amount of stem with the fully bloomed flower, carefully bringing it to his nose to smell it before doing the same to the other one. And all the while, you silently watch.

“Here, this one is more fresh.” It’s so surprising how he can just say that by looking at the flower. Then again, you know him better than anyone, so it’s not surprising at all. He looks at you with dreamy, fluttering eyes and that precious smile on his face, his hair falling perfectly on his forehead. You want to reach out and fix the stray hairs back into position, but you hold back, swallowing the lump in your throat when you look into his pretty, pretty eyes. Trying your damnedest to not get mesmerized, lost in them once again.

It doesn’t seem like a very, very special moment. And to you at that time, it wasn’t special. You simply ignored the heat that crept up your face at his silent gesture, nodding sporadically and ignoring the way you tensed up more when your fingers touched, barely.

Your heart suddenly thumped against your chest with renewed vigour, and you could tell Jeongin was close to noticing it too. 

“T-thank you, that's very sweet.” Fixing the frills of your frock, you smooth them over before looking further and deeper into the garden.

“Lend me a hand, please.”

You once again, ignore the way your heart flutters at his statement, silently extending your hand and covering up your sudden emotion with a smile. His hand feels soft, warm in your hold, fingertips slightly rough from when he used to play the violin. You like it, though.

“Here.” He places the rose carefully in your palm, making sure no thorns prick the delicate skin of your palm, and you can’t help but smile at the tiny reassurance. A nod of approval and you tuck the flower away neatly into your satchel, almost like a valuable present he’d given you, oblivious to the way Jeongin’s eyes twinkled at your action, his smile beaming.

My god, who would’ve known this flower could’ve brought you so, so much trouble?

It had started simple, almost unnoticeable. Just little glances towards Jeongin when he’d come over to watch a movie, getting lost in the way his hair looked exceptionally soft to touch, silently drifting off into space as you admired him from the backseat during class — sure, you were supposed to be focusing on the lesson and taking notes, but something about the way the rim of Jeongin’s sunglasses caught the sunlight and created a lens flare effect was breathtaking to watch.

That, combined with his beauty, his personality. It was too much, too much to handle.

You found yourself waiting to get a glimpse of him, even a tiny glance of his smile would be enough to make your day — to make your heart flutter. 

He was pretty.

You suppose it’s because being Jeongin’s best friend meant you already knew about the kind and empathetic man he was — but for the love of god, you could not stop your heart from fluttering when you heard his name, let alone looked at him and his mind-numbingly pretty smile, his dazzling eyes that always seemed to keep you off the ground.

Oh my, was this love?

You didn’t believe it. You didn’t agree, couldn’t accept that this was love. Maybe it was just your way of showing appreciation for him, for everything he’d done for you? Yes. That was probably it. 

Love wasn’t something you’d experienced — how could you jump to the conclusion? 

But you couldn’t pin the feeling you were feeling to another word — though you were desperate. The way your heart beat faster around him, the way you started noticing all the tiny details that made you fall for him even more, and for what? Just because he happened to give you a fresher, more lusciously colored rose after choosing them on his own? 

Jeongin had noticed it too — it was hard not to when you’d start fiddling with your thumbs, twirling your hair, and the way heat would rush to your face when he did as little as smile at you — you’d fallen for him — and while he was ever-the-oblivious to realise the implications of your actions, he did know that something was wrong.

“Y/N, are you alright?” Jeongin asks rather dully, seeming kind of worried about your current state. You’re resting your head against his lap, but Jeongin can feel the warmth of your cheek through the thin material of his shorts — and not the regular kind. The kind of heat one would radiate when they’d either been overly flustered. Or possibly a fever.

He rests a single palm against your cheek and your eyes flutter shut, and there it is again. The butterflies in your stomach, the fuzzies in your head, and the tingling that shot up to your fingertips. “Are you sick? Is that why you’re oddly quiet today? You haven’t said or eaten anything.”

“Ah, no, I’m alright.” You try to hide the dizziness in your voice, snuggling in his hold before fluttering your eyes close. Thankfully, Jeongin doesn’t question it. 

“Alright, we won’t talk about it if you don’t want to.” Even though you aren’t facing him right now, you can feel him smile in melancholy. 

“Hey Y/N?” 

“Yes?”

“You know I’m here for you, right?”

Oh, you knew.

Sometimes you wish you didn’t — maybe that would’ve prevented it from ending this way.

It’s such a common scenario — in movies, in books, in media. Two best friends falling in love with each other, confessing their love in the warm and intimate setting of the night sky, over gentle touches and lingering kisses. You’ve always had an attachment to those kinds of movies or books — because for you, that kind of love was special in it’s own way.

Those little ways the lead characters had of showing each other their undying love, those subtle acts were so special, so special in their own way. Those books had shown you how heartwarming, how vulnerable yet rigid, strong that relationship could be. It was such a pretty world to explore, to fantasize. You kind of felt that you and Jeongin were the protagonists of those books, those movies.

Except, you had no happy ending.

The books failed to show how painful it was to swallow, to digest the fact that you could be nothing more than friends. Sure, there had been some moments where the main leads would be sad, but it was nothing compared to this, this suffocation in your chest that slowly built up, day by day, minute by minute, second by second.

It was hard.

The first prick in your chest hadn’t been entirely painful. It was barely noticeable even. Simply a tiny jolt of pain when you bent forward to grab your books from your locker. It had only been a slight jab, like when you’d accidentally poke yourself in the rib with the edge of your hardcover diary while picking it up. Nothing too hard.

Then came the slight feeling of breathlessness. You found yourself unable to run a full round in P.E (when you could easily do so beforehand), having to stop in between to catch your breath. You figured it could’ve been your dust allergy because the P.E room wasn’t cleaned that often, so it made sense. Somewhat. Still sceptical, but nonetheless, you covered up your random outbursts of coughs with any and every excuse you could find when your parents questioned you about it.

It was hard, but you figured it was just a matter of winter passing by, and soon you’d be alright.

Would you, though? You couldn’t bring yourself to accept that there was in fact something wrong happening to you, pushing behind that feeling of paranoia every time with a smile on your face and a hold of your breath, wishing for the pain to ebb away.

Who would’ve thought that a sudden infatuation would have led to your demise?

Jeongin can hear the noises.

Those loud, dragged out wisps of air that you borderline struggle to take in and expel out, Jeongin can hear them.

He can feel your struggle. It’s not easy for him to look at you like this, curled up into a ball and ignoring the rampant burn in your chest. The movie isn’t even the main focus right now. Jeongin has something to say, and he’s had enough of watching you struggle. He’s rather here to persuade you to go to the fucking doctor, and get some sort of diagnosis instead of beating around the bush.

Strange. Jeongin feels oddly affectionate today, when usually you’re the one to initiate such gestures. All he wants to do is pull you into his arms and rock you back and forth until you fall asleep, because you seriously seem like you need it.

“Y/N,” he calls, watching you lift your head up from where it’s rested against your knees. You don’t reply, because right now, your throat seems like a barren desert and all you can seem to let out is a croak.

Jeongin sighs and rolls his eyes as if in deep thought, turning on the couch to face you before touching the tops of your cheeks with his hands — they seem overly feverous. 

“What’s going on?” He asks sternly.

“What d-do you mean?” You manage to get out, feeling your chest hurt more and more with each syllable that leaves past your lips in a croaked voice. It felt like someone was repeatedly stabbing your chest with the sharp edge of the knife, the burn in your throat and lungs getting too much to handle. You can’t even tear your focus from the fiery sensation to revel in the feeling of Jeongin’s soft palms cupping your cheeks.

“Y/N, you’ve been acting weird ever since the expedition.” Worry is laced throughout his tone, mixed in with a dash of sorrow to give rise to the most heartbreaking sound you’ve ever heard. Though you know otherwise, it almost seems as though Jeongin is disappointed in you.

“You’ve been getting more and more sick—” he raises a hand to stop you from contradicting his statement. You only look at him with mellow eyes, knowing that what he says is right. You’ve been ignoring your health for too long. 

You can’t help it, either. While you have an inkling of what might’ve happened, you’re too stubborn to accept it, let along your unrequited love for your best friend, who seems ever-the-oblivious.

“—and you can’t tell me it’s the winter allergy, love. I know you more than that to believe it.”

Shaking your head in dismay, you turn around to get up. You can’t be having this conversation right now, not with the faintest taste of blood lingering at the edge of your throat — you can’t be showing yourself like this in front of him — broken down, vulnerable, confused of your own feelings, having no idea of what you should be doing.

Your mother had pointed it out too, at this point. They suggested going to the doctor, and you outright refused. You didn’t want your suspicion to come to life. It couldn’t- it couldn’t be this way-

“Y/N!”

Jeongin grabs your hands to stop you in your position and turns you around.

And that’s a wrong move.

Your whole chest tightens, and the thorns that stab against your chest has never been more painful. You cry out loudly, only causing them to dig deeper into your skin and almost bleed. Jeongin’s eyes widen in shock at your sudden, unexpected reaction and only tightens his grasp on your hands.

Which again, is a very wrong move, because the following bouts of coughs that take over you shake you up from the core. Jeongin feels blanked out looking at how much you’re suffering right now, so much that he doesn’t feel the wet, yet light flutter on the back of his hand.

When Jeongin snaps back in from his momentary daze, he’s borderline horrified.

He’s convinced, completely certain that there’s nothing more terrifying, heartbreaking, scarring — he could go on and on — than what he just saw. He can almost feel his heart break into a million tiny shards, but he knows that it’s nowhere equivalent to the pain you’re going through.

Well, looks like your suspicion did come to life.

Because what Jeongin sees is, gah, he feels horrified. There’s blood dripping down your lip, staining the skin below garnet red. Your eyes are tinted pinkish-red too, most likely from the exertion that came along with the horrendous amount of coughs that took over you.

Red, red everywhere. Jeongin had previously thought of red as one of the most beautiful, and most interesting colors ever — a symbolism of love, nothing but the pure love he felt towards you.

But now, all he could think of was how much he was tormented by the mere sight of the color.

When his eyes, still blown wide in shock, trail down to his lap, the mere sight of what’s littered on it leaves him in tears.

Red petals, everywhere. All over the back of his hands, all over your lap, all over his lap.

Jeongin could probably spend ages, ages sobbing and whimpering about the sheer pain the sight in front of him brought. It tormented him beyond imagination. This should be a dream — Jeongin wants to wake up any second now, anywhere, in your lap, in his own bed, just anything to save his heart from seeing you this way.

Yet when you cough again, the pain in his heart tells otherwise.

“Y/N!” He chokes out a cry, and from there, he acts quick. He could cry about this later — he needs to find you some help, and now. 

You feel numb. As numb as you possibly can when you see the tears in Jeongin’s eyes, though your sight is clouded by your own tears. You’re numb to the blood dripping down your chin and pooling in your lap, you’re numb to the feeling of those bloody petals littered all over the couch. 

“We need to get you to the hospital, quick.” He gets up, wiping his eyes that are surprisingly, surprisingly overflowing with tears. You barely feel the handkerchief quickly wiping against your mouth, causing you to snap from your trance and look at him. The numbness doesn’t fade yet.

You doubt it ever will.

You’re not sure that the events after the incident go super quickly or as slow as a snail, and you’re not in any state to care about it either. Jeongin had called your mother when he drove you to the hospital — albeit over the sound of your repetitive and raucous coughs — and now your mom’s standing next to him outside, nervously prancing back and forth as he waits for the doctors to come out.

The hospital corridor is moderately lit — perfect setting for Jeongin’s mood right now. There’s no sound except for the occasional encounter when a nurse or doctor happens to walk past them. The hanahaki treatment section of the hospital isn’t the most crowded place — surprisingly enough, the doctors had immediately known what had happened to you.

Your mother can’t bring herself to thank Jeongin for dragging you to the hospital — she’s too paranoid. Your daughter coughing up blood and — Jeongin hadn’t mentioned it to her — flower petals over a movie night isn't the best news you’d want to receive when her friend calls you; so Jeongin understands why your mother is overly quiet.

He doesn’t try to reassure her either. It’s hard to do so when she’s gonna find out her daughter houses a wedding bouquet in her chest — and Jeongin isn’t that oblivious to not know what’s going on, especially standing in the hanahaki department of the clinic. His mother, not so much. All she can do is silently sob and mutter prayers repeatedly, hoping her daughter would be alright. Jeongin feels his heart break more when he sees your mom like this, and he knows he’s not gonna last at this rate, when he’s allowed to enter your room.

At this point, he can’t get past his own brain screaming a million different things at the same time, none of them coherent enough to make sense. He’s a mess right now — red eyes puffy and swollen, hair completely disheveled and half of his sweatshirt hanging out of where it was  neatly tucked in.

Two hands at his heart, and that’s when he notices the red rose petal stuck to the back of his hand, probably from when you’d coughed all over it. It’s fairly large in size — Jeongin examines it, in a slightly successful attempt at trying to distract from the feeling of anxiety that builds up inside bit by bit. It’s a deep, dark red color, exactly like the rose he’d given you that day, at the trip.

The boy sighs to himself before pulling the petal off his hand, eyes widening when the blood underneath it tints the skin it runs across. 

That’s when a lump forms in his throat, but he isn’t given time to cry, because soon enough, the sound of a door opening clicks through his ears, and Jeongin’s head snaps up.

He can see you from where he’s standing, and his whole world freezes in front of his eyes.

The flowers inside your chest had grown moderately large — that’s what the doctor said, at least. You’d been hiding your disease for two months, and it wasn’t until the end that Jeongin caught on — you’d been too stubborn to accept your fate. Maybe this was how it was supposed to end, after all. 

You couldn’t accept it then, but you did now. Did it seriously make a difference?

Jeongin had seen your scan, and what he saw would’ve truly been pretty, if not for the fact that these flowers could be the cause for your imminent death. The roses had almost fully bloomed — and the thorns were pricklier than ever. Jeongin could almost feel them stab against his skin, and he didn’t even have the disease. It was confusing — things were too confusing right now.

You couldn’t speak much, the painkillers you were on were making you drowsy and causing you to quickly fall asleep. Even if you weren’t asleep, it wouldn’t have made a difference.

Numbness ran through your veins. You couldn’t bring yourself to feel anything after what had happened.

Jeongin and your mother hadn’t spoken to you after the doctor had shown them your scan, and they preferred to not break the news to you either, figuring that you were pretty shaken up from the incident already.

The doctor said he could give you two weeks before the flowers filled your lungs completely and blocked your throat.

And Jeongin is devastated.

When the effect of your painkillers wear off and you open your eyes, you feel a soft sensation brushing against your thumb, slowly turning to look at your best friend — tears streaked all over his face, eyes ridden with dark circles and red and puffy, his voice sounded nasal as he silently cried, eyesight focused on the floor.

“J-Jeongin…?” You mumble past your oxygen mask, surprisingly not noticing it’s presence until right now,

He perks up at the painful call, lifting his head to gaze into your eyes. He looks worse than you look right now, if you’re to be honest. You doubt he’s even brushed his teeth or had breakfast. The hospital room is pretty dim just like the exterior, but the sunlight coming from the open window is enough to light up the whole room, enough to at least see your friend’s features clearly.

“You’re awake.” he says as a matter-of-fact and you nod, gently taking off the contraption placed against your nose. Jeongin flinches like he wants to stop you. But then freezes when you try to slowly get up.

Turns out that’s a wrong move, because you can soon feel the thorns of the garden you have in your lungs prick against your skin, making you gasp and shriek in agony. Jeongin jerks up and places a hand on your back, and the other across your stomach — and gently maneuvers you into an awkward but comfortable position, before lifting the top of the bed into a reclining position before laying you down onto it.

“Careful, love.”

Your chest tightens at the actions once again, yet you try not to cough like you did the last time. Surprisingly biting on your tongue works to rid the feeling of suffocation, or at least distracts from it.

“Where’s m-mom?”

“She went to pick up some of your essentials, plus a few clothes.”

“D-did she eat? Did you eat?”

Jeongin smiles at your concern. It’s something he’s found endearing about you — how you always seem to put others first, even though you’re in a worse situation. Though the habit isn’t healthy, Jeongin can’t seem to get over how thoughtful one would have to be to act that way all the time. You’re so innocent, so kind — you’re one of a kind, at least for him.

“What?” You chuckle, noticing Jeongin’s lingering stare on you.

Your friend only beams, taking your hand in his once again. “I forced her to eat something because of her medication, so you don’t have to worry. I ate along with her too, though the canteen’s food doesn’t taste that well.” 

A soft giggle leaves your lips and quickly morphs into a set of coughs, more petals fluttering all over your lap and hands. When Jeongin stands up to call a doctor, you lift a hand to stop him, gesturing for him to sit down.

It isn’t as intense as the first time, but there’s still a tiny bit of blood dripping from the corner of your mouth, which Jeongin quickly goes to wipe off with his thumb. You flinch at the warm touch, sighing to yourself before dropping your gaze to your lap.

“So…” You start. “What did the doctor say?”

“What?”

Jeongin seems visibly tense at your question, kind of like he was dreading it. Which he was. He knows enough about this to know that patients usually don’t like knowing, and in fact can be traumatised by knowing that their apparent death would be in two weeks.

Jeongin in fact has no idea how he’s so calm. He should be sobbing, trashing, looking for a way to hold you back. He shouldn’t be so calm.

He figures he’s just accepted fate. He’s relishing what could be his last moments with you.

You don’t reply, and Jeongin knows he’ll have to make something up.

“They said it’s just a regular allerg-”

“Jeongin.”

The boy freezes.

“Don’t lie to me.” Your voice is laid with so much pain, Jeongin wants to reach out and crush every problem you have into his fist. He wants all your sorrow and worry to dissolve, and right now, he just feels helpless. He feels powerless.

“How many days do I have left?” You ask, sniffling before wiping your tears away. “Just tell me already, Jeongin-”

Jeongin’s grip tightens against your hand as he whispers — “Two weeks.” 

The words are only let out as a soft mumble, as though Jeongin himself is questioning the statement the doctors put forth. Really, in two weeks? Would you really be gone? Would he seriously never see more of your smiles, your loving gaze, those times when you’d get overly shy of his compliments, those times when you’d silently smile at him from afar?

Was this the end?

“Two weeks.” You repeat. Your voice honestly sounds like a croaking frog, but you can’t bring yourself to care. 

“Hey Y/N…?” Jeongin hesitantly calls.

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you something?” He puts his other hand on yours. “Two questions, actually.”

“Mhm?”

“This disease you have… hana-”

“Hanahaki.”

“Yeah, that.” A hand runs against the back of his neck and he continues. “Be honest, did you know that- that you had this disease before I found out?”

“Jeongin…” You’re about to shake your head, but then you remember the deadline. The deadline by which, you’re no longer going to be here, no longer going to be able to cuddle Jeongin during movie dates, no longer be able to even look at him from afar, or close for that matter. In other words, you didn’t want to end your days with him based on a lie.

Therefore you sigh, breathing out a ‘yes’ as your shoulders droop down.

You can hear Jeongin’s shaky sigh too.

“W-why?” He clenches your hand tightly, sadness mixing in with what you can only call disappointment. “How could you be so selfish?”

It's too late to take back those words now.

“Wh-what?” You raise your eyebrows, feeling scared at his sudden question. “Jeongin, I wanted to be sure-”

Oh who are you kidding? Jeongin and you both know that you’d hidden it because you didn’t want to accept it. It’s too late to change that now.

And Jeongin seems to know that too.

“Don’t- Y/N.” His breath morphs into sharp inhales, as though he’s downright angry at your actions — you know he has every reason to be — still, it doesn’t ease the pain in your heart. Or maybe that’s just the flowers.

“Do you think this is a joke?” His sobs grow louder in fervour, and you feel yourself break at the sight. The room is so, so quiet that you can hear his faint mumbles. You can hear the cries his heart screams in agony, letting you go is painful for him. The thought, rather the sound, only makes the plant in your heart grow further.

“Y/N- did you not think of your mother? Of me? Did you not think of what would have happened if you left us? You think it’s gonna be easy on the both of us? On everyone?” His gaze stern and his voice stable, you don’t get affected by his words, but you do understand what he means — and maybe wish that you could’ve reversed your actions.

“How could you, Y/N?” He gets up from where he’s seated beside your hospital bed. “How could you think that this would be the most appropriate action?”

Jeongin knows he’s angry. Jeongin knows you’re going through a lot. But he’s too.

He’s not angry at you, not at himself, but fate. He’s mad that this is your fate, that you have to go away so soon. He’s mad that he can’t do anything to help you, in any manner.

You don’t say a word, which only causes Jeongin to sigh — disappointedly, again — and walk to where his coat is hung against the edge of his bed, picking it off and pulling it over him in a hurry. Every cell in you wants to scream at him, apologize for what you did, but your voice feels small, almost like you can’t force it out of your throat.

He goes towards the door that leads to the corridor, stopping for a second before turning to look at you.

“Are you gonna tell me, at least, who this person is?”

“W-what?” Things are too confusing right now.

“Hanahaki comes with unrequited love, Y/N. Are you gonna tell me who didn’t return your love?”

“You didn’t” You want to say. But then again, you stay quiet, not being able to handle the intensity of the moment.

Jeongin wants for two seconds, then sighs and shakes his head. “Whatever, I guess.”

And then he leaves.

In the next week, your health goes down drastically. More of petals expelled out of your lungs, more blood dripping from between your lips, more of your mother’s horrified expression as she runs away from the room while the doctors tend to your coughs. More sobs from your mother when she thinks you’re asleep, more melancholic smiles when you’re awake.

But you feel so empty.

Every piece of you feels like it’s being ripped apart. You can’t even sit up without someone’s help, of such intensity is the pain. The pain of knowing that your love would never be returned. 

The pain of knowing that you hurt the person you loved truly.

You were put on your oxygen mask 24/7, and instructed to not take it off whatsoever. Your medication stopped taking it’s usual effect, and if anyone saw you the way you were outside the current circumstances, they’d have assumed that you haven't slept for 8 days and were going to crumble into the earth any second.

“Honey?”

You gasp at the sudden intrusion to your thoughts, turning around to see your mother, sitting next to you and holding your hand with her own. You hum as a response, clearly unable to respond more than a mere mumble.

“Did you and Jeongin fight?”

A pang of guilt floods through your nerves at the mention of your friend’s name. He’d come to visit you only once in the past week. Perhaps even he couldn’t handle the fact that your death certificate was ready to be signed soon, and was trying to not be tormented by the fact. Or perhaps he was just angry.

“W-why?” You croak.

“I convinced him to come stay here while I go pick up a fresh change of clothes, but it took me quite a bit of arguing.”

You feel sad for her. She’s clearly paranoid — you can hear it in her voice, the shake lingers throughout. Yet she holds it in, trying not to let you worry about it.

You don’t answer her question. The last thing you need is for her to get mad at you too, though you doubt it. Your mom has never been the kind to yell at you for anything — provided, you’ve never given her a reason either.

“Do you think he’s mad because I didn’t tell him about the person who didn’t return m-my l-lo-ve…?” your throat goes dry towards the end and your mother quickly hands you a glass of water. You chug it down and sigh in relief, breath still short.

“Is that person him?” Your mother questions with her gentle, soothing voice one that can make you relax on the first listen. There’s no use lying to her, you figure. She knows you too well to do that, plus, like you said, you couldn’t bring yourself to end your days with her on a lie.

“Yeah…”

“Oh sweetheart,” She brushes some of your hair off your face, sitting down again before drumming her fingers against the back of your hand gently. “I don’t think he could be mad at you.”

“But he is. Didn’t y-you see? He didn’t bother to meet me as much after our argument. He’c c-clearly mad.”

“Hmmm,” Your mother ponders. “I don’t think so.”

“You don’t?”

“Nope. I have known him for a while, dear. He’s been with you for more than five years. Maybe he’s having trouble taking this in? Just like…” Your mother stops after that, but you know the completion.

Just like her.

“I’m sorry, mom.”

You simply don’t get it. You should be scared. You should be sad and devastated that your end was going to come soon.  You should be thrashing around and crying and wailing in despair — you just don’t have  the energy to even bother about your end. It’s depressing, but you know there’s no way you could avoid the inevitable, or get your lover to return your love.

Love wasn’t supposed to be something forced, it had to happen naturally. And if Jeongin didn’t develop it naturally, you just had to learn to live with it. Or not.

“Don’t be, darling. Everyone deserves to love, just like how they deserve it back. I wish it could’ve ended differently.”

“It’s alright mom. He loves me too… just not on the way I love him.”

You sniffle as a single tear runs down your chin, though you and your mom aren’t given enough time to speak more when you hear a familiar voice at the door. 

“Hey Mrs. L/N.” Jeongin says, shrugging off his half snow-covered coat before hanging it onto the bedside. Did he seriously walk in the snow? All the way here?

“Hello, Jeongin dear.” Your mother stands up, picking her coat before moving to fish the car keys from her purse. “Thank you for watching over Y/N while I’m gone, darling.”

“It’s no problem, Mrs. L/N.”

“Oh, so formal.” Your mom chuckles, though in her despaired state. “Y/N, you get some sleep, it’s about midnight dear.” She leans over to kiss your forehead while Jeongin excuses himself to the washroom, and you nod. 

“Good night mom.”

“Good night, and don’t worry about him. He’ll talk to you eventually.”

Oh, how reassuring. “Mhm.” You smile, closing your eyes to drift into slumber before Jeongin returns, because the last thing you need right now is to feel sad and cry over how you’d hurt him.

By the time the sound of the door clicking resounds through the space, you’re already asleep.

 It’s way past midnight. Jeongin shouldn’t be up. 

Somehow, he still finds himself seated next to your bed, staring fondly at your calm features as you finally get the rest you’ve needed for the past few days. 

Oh, he wouldn’t be able to compare your sheer beauty to even that of the moon; even when you’re in such a fragile and vulnerable state. Your eyelashes are still and unmoving where they sit against your skin, your breath is calm and slightly wavering as you struggle to breathe slightly. 

His hand slips into your own gently, and his heart melts when you shift, tightening your grasp on his warm skin before falling into a slumber again.

Why was he mad in the first place? Jeongin feels dumb for acting so quickly on his emotions, especially when you’re in a bad place at the moment. He wants to wake you up and apologize, but he can’t, because you’re sound asleep — and that’s a good thing, since seep comes so scarcely to you these days.

Then, a single tear falls from his eyes. His thoughts traverse to the dream he had the previous night — you, cold, dead in his arms. Him, sobbing, trying to wake you up but you’re really gone. He can’t even hear your mother’s cries from behind him, because he’s devastated to know that you’ve left him. The dream had woken him up in a cold sweat — it was then he realised that he’d committed a mistake, and agreed to come visit you, because you had about 5 days left.

His thoughts then traverse to the conversation you had with your mother, while he was standing outside in the cold hospital corridor, curiously listening.

“Is that person him?” “Yeah…”

When he heard those words, countess, infinite thoughts crashed at his head; all at once. Nothing made any sense. The reality of the situation was dawning on him too quickly, and Jeongin was having a hard time processing it. 

You loved him? He was the person who didn’t return your love?

“Why didn’t you tell me, Y/N?” He mumbles in confusion — so much confusion, so much hurt — he wanted time to just stop for awhile and give him a fair chance to analyze the situation.

But, once all the initial thoughts were out of the way, only one question remained:

Was he the reason you were going to die?

Jeongin felt like a murderer — like he’d just stabbed you in cold blood. He knows it is’t like that — just like you’d said, love should come natural. So why did Jeongin feel so bad? WHy did he feel like he was the one at fault?

A fond smile crosses his lips when he remembers the book where you keep all your flowers safely. Who would have thought your fondness for flowers would morph into the reason for your demise?

Quiet, hushed in the midnight wind, Jeongin gently brings out the rose he’d picked from his satchel. It’s almost relieving to see a rose in it’s true glory, without scattered petals or blood covering the flower. A part of him grows sad that you won’t be able to gush over flowers together anymore, he won’t be able to see your smile anymore. It hurts him. It stabs his heart over and over again, and Jeongin is pained — almost like he’s being put to death slowly — he wants the pain to end, but only suffers and suffers.

The stem has already been cut and the thorns have been thrown out. Jeongin leans over to tuck the flower behind your ear, fingers brushing against the almost cold skin at the back of your ear before letting another tear slip from his eye, running down his cheek and falling on your palm.

A strange, oh-so-strange feeling creeps up on him. It’s like… a fluttering in his heart? Jeongin can’t quite place it — heck, he doesn’t try to make sense of it. There are more important things to look at, right now. He suddenly has the urge to pull you into his arms and gently murmur sweet words into your ear — seems odd for a situation like this, but oh well, feelings are feelings.

He pats your hand gently and smiles, before moving to sleep on the smaller bed in front of your own. Not allowed to go far, though, because your grip on his hands tighten almost immediately, and Jeongin tightens to look into your eyes, sparkly and slightly droopy from the intrusion of sleep.

“Y/N, go to-”

“Stay.” You mumble, feeling your voice choke as the petals threaten to spill out for what seems like the millionth time. Yet, you manage to spill out another, “Please?”

Jeongin feels like he’s about to cry. Your expression is so, so hopeful, he can’t bring himself to deny. He wouldn’t in the first place, because who was he to deny what could be his friend’s last wish?

A sob bubbles up his throat, but he swallows it down, smiling with melancholy before following your weak pull on his hand, genty climbing on your bed before slotting himself between you and the steel grill that prevented patients from falling down. He gently tucks his hand under you and pulls you close to himself, tensing up for a second when you wrap an arm around his own, gently rubbing on it before drifting off to sleep. You want to cherish this moment — this could be the last time before you could never see him again. Fuck your medication for making you so drowsy. Or not, because you were certain you would start crying, and that would certainly not end well.

The whole room falls silent for two seconds, and you fall asleep almost immediately. 

And then, Jeongin releases all his tears, and everything comes crashing down on him. He breaks apart.

The world was too cruel to you. He was cruel to you. He can’t believe that in less than a week, you’d be gone. Gone from earth. Flowers had lost all their beauty for him, the moment he saw you coughing them up on that couch during movie night.

He wanted to do anything. He wanted any small sign to show that you would stay with him. He was in so much pain, he couldn’t accept your fate. He wanted to grab your hand and pull you to himself, keep you close, he couldn’t let go, he couldn’t give you up, he couldn’t —

“I love you.” You mumble unconsciously in your sleep, and Jeongin loses it then and there. His throat feels dry as tears flow and flow and don’t cease no matter what. His body shakes like a sobbing child, but thankfully you’re knocked out from the effect of your medication. He hasn’t cried this hard in a while, guess there’s a first time for everything. The three words pierce his heart, and they suddenly hold more meaning than anything — Jeongin wants to hear those words on a loop; he feels strangely ecstatic when you say them.

And so, with a shaky voice and a sorrowful tone, Jeongin replies after pressing a kiss to your forehead — “I-I love you, t-too.”

His eyes flutter shut and he basks in your arms just one last time, holding you close to himself as he finally, finally finds himself at peace, next to you.

When your mother finds you both snuggled up and asleep together, a smile crosses her lips. A hopeful smile.

“Are you ready for your scan, Y/N?”

You feel oddly light today — one would say it’s because your body was close to shutting down completely, but your throat felt a bit, a tiny bit clearer and less barren than a fucking desert. Nevertheless, the scan does make you nervous. This would make clear how long the flowers would take to reach your throat — the doctor’s estimation was about three days, which seemed way too short for Jeongin.

Oh, how embarrassing it was when the nurses, all giggly and mushy-eyed, found you snuggled with Jeongin like a teddy bear at the early hours of the morning, waking you and Jeongin up and only cracking up more at your bewildered expressions when you find yourself tangled with each other.

Before the scan, Jeongin had held your hand softly, leaning down to press another kiss to your forehead. You’d shyly smiled, nodding before letting the nurse drag you to the scanning room.

The details of the scan itself aren’t important, it went pretty well — as decent as a scan could possibly go. You’re able to cooperate with your nurses pretty feasibly, you feel the sudden urge to get out of your wheelchair and try walking. Sure, you can still feel the choked feeling in your throat and the burn in your lungs, but somehow, it’s just a tiny bit lesser than usual. Maybe it’s because your painkillers are working more effectively. Maybe.

Jeongin’s waiting for you outside when you’re led out of the room, and he smiles when he sees you.

You don’t even remember what you’d said the previous night. All you remember was passing out while Jeongin was in the washroom, and then waking up to him cuddled up, warm and snug next to you. His features were clear and calm as the ocean on a sunny day, a small smile on his lips, as though he was dreaming about something happy. You hope he did, because that boy deserves the happiness.

“You seem energetic today.” Jeongin says, taking note of your perky demeanour, that only causes you to giggle slightly. 

Sure, you don’t remember the happenings of last night, but he does — and he’d promised himself to cherish every last second. Because in the end, it’s all he can do — for leading you to this state, for getting mad at you and wasting precious time in which he could’ve stayed with you. He’d promised to not let you live your last moment sad and desolated.

“I feel light, for some reason.” You mumble with a broken voice as Jeongin takes the wheelchair from the nurse, listening to what she has to say before bowing and nodding, leading you back to your room.

“What did she say?” You ask, fiddling with your thumbs.

“She said your scan results would come in an hour.” 

“Oh… alright.”

For some reason, you’re too joyous today, after the little surprise you got as soon as your eyes opened. You can’t seem to bother about the end— you want to live in this moment, right now.

When you come back to the room, Jeongin lifts you up bridal style, causing you to gasp before placing you down onto the bed. The nurse waiting there quickly fixes your IV and helps you sit into a comfortable position (though it’s hard when thorns keep pricking at your ribs) before bowing to the both of you, and leaving.

Your mother has once again left to go fix up the house, leaving you in the trust of your best friend. You aren’t complaining though, especially when Jeongin sits down beside your bed, taking your hand in his before playing with your nimble fingers — just like always.

He looks gorgeous today. After a lot of nagging from your mother, he’d used the hospital bathroom to wash his face and comb his hair neatly, and you’re happy about that because he looks fresher and happier than ever. You want him to be smiling and happy, even when you leave, because… did you need a reason? You just wanted him to be happy and content with his life.

The thought invokes an angsty feeling of melancholy, but you brush it away, trying to focus on Jeongin and the silence that drops on the both of you like a warm blanket. You smile softly at him, gently letting go of his hand before tucking a few strands of his hair behind his ear, almost melting when Jeongin’s eyes flutter close.

“Hey Jeongin?” You call, grabbing his hand once again and interlacing the fingers together.

“Yeah?”

“When I… leave,” You notice the twitch in his expression, but nonetheless, continue. “Will you bring me flowers every week?” 

You remember the red rose you’d found tucked behind your ear when you woke up — it had dried up a bit, but nonetheless, it was one of the prettiest objects you’d ever seen — even though there was a whole bouquet of them spewing out your mouth every two seconds.

“I will.” Jeongin sniffles. The thought of having to visit your grave every week to bring you flowers is immensely saddening, but Jeongin agrees anyways. He agrees, for you.

It’s the least he can do.

It’s funny how you say “leave”, like you’re going to your hometown for a month-long vacation and not actually like you’re going to be buried any time soon. Jeongin thinks it’s because you don’t want him to get too sad over his loss — a stupid thing to wish — Jeongin knows this loss is going to affect him in more ways than one.

“Jeongin, d-don’t cry…” You cup his cheek, gently brushing your thumb against his cheek and wiping away the tears that fall, one by one. Jeongin shakes his head, placing his palm on your hand and smiling at you.

“Can you do me another favor?”

“As many as you’d like Y/N.” He says. He’ll do anything you want — it’s your last wish after all.

“Bury me with my flower journal, please?” It may seem like a weird claim to bury oneself with a dusty old book, but Jeongin understands the significance — you want to hold onto those memories you made with him while writing it together, while picking flowers together and all those happy moments you exchanged.

Jeongin tries not to let his voice break again. “I will.”

You beam at his acceptance. Jeongin feels the slight thump of his heart against his chest, and a warm feeling envelopes him from inside. He’s suddenly overcome with an urge to press delicate kisses on your eyelids, though he tries to shoo it away, because it isn’t the main point of focus right now.

But soon your mother walks in, and it’s all small talk and deep conversations with her at the same time. You have breakfast, persuade (more like force) Jeongin to scarf down his meal and giggle about some random jokes thrown here and there, until the doctor comes in. Both Jeongin and your mother stand up, bowing and wishing good morning while you do too. Wish, not stand up. You’re basically tied to the bed at this point.

“Mrs L/N, I’d have had a word with you in private, but I think Miss Y/N needs to hear this too.” 

“What is it, doctor?”

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion and Jeongin’s grip on your hand tightens, thumb rubbing over your skin to soothe your obvious tension. The doctor slides the transparent, firm sheet off it’s envelope before letting the sunlight hit the back of it, in order to enable a clearer viewing.

“This is… the most unusual case I’ve ever seen, but —” He points to a junction on the scan. “The flowers have actually reduced in amount, and they've separated from the windpipe by a whole two inches. See?” He points at the edges of the lungs and at the windpipe, but you understand what he means. The flowers are there, no doubt, but it’s almost like — a whole stem of them just disappeared into thin air.

Of course this could’ve been because you coughed them up, but the coughed up flowers go instantly, or so you’ve heard. There’s confusion written on all of your faces right now.

“Is that why I was feeling lighter and easier to breathe today? Because the flowers withered off and gave more space for air?” You ask in your low voice, and your doctor nods.

“Seems like it. Do you have your previous scan?” Your mother hands it to him quickly after a great deal of fishing out of her purse.

He places the earlier scan behind the newer one, and suddenly, you can see what he means. It’s almost like they shrunk — you don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing, but nonetheless, you’re happy you can breathe a bit more.

“What does this mean, though?” Jeongin asks, bewildered at the strange news. The room is so quiet and the tension is thick enough to cut with a knife, and you can see both your mother and Jeongin waiting for the doctor’s words.

“It means that we’ll take another scan tomorrow, a deeper one. And check if the flowers are actually collecting somewhere else, or just disappearing. And if they are disappearing…” He trails off, and you giggle when Jeongin and your mother lean forward in anticipation, though curious yourself.

“She’ll be home by Christmas. Or even earlier, if the recovery speed is fast.”

“Y-You mean… I can be cured?” Your voice shakes with hope, and the doctor smiles sweetly at you, before nodding.

“Yes dear, you’ll be the first patient who’s walked out of this place cured from hanahaki.”

At that moment, it almost feels like every flower inside your chest wilts out — you feel so light, so ecstatic. You’re over the clouds at the news, and don’t even hear your mother’s cries of thankfulness before the doctor heads out.

“Y/N!” Jeongin exclaims, ignoring the fluttering feeling in his heart and the burn in his cheeks when he cups your own. “You’re gonna come home!”

You shake with soft sobs, and smile at Jeongin.

“I’m gonna come home.” Provided the scan tomorrow showed a positive result, but you don’t bother to mention that part.

And the next day, when your scan results come back, a huge smile adorns your face, and your mother is in tears. Happy tears.

The sunshine is overly bright today, leaving you squinting for sight, especially when you’re seated in a garden out in the open, book in one hand and the other one resting against the cool, moist grass. The air holds a musky forest scent, and you revel in the feeling of the shivers the cold air that cuts through skin brings.

The park is relatively empty for the morning — you’re glad it is, because it brings on a sense of calmness that you seem to like. The surroundings are just perfect — you don’t want anyone to disrupt your mood right now.

So yeah. The story ends that way. You recover, bit by bit, though it takes a whole bunch of time. There were times when you still had to cough out those petals, but you couldn’t be happier — it felt as though you were spitting out those vicious thorns that had tormented and threatened your life. The doctors had no idea how you’d managed to recover — but this was an interesting case to put into their portfolio, so they weren’t complaining.

And oh, you had Jeongin to help you through all of it, of course. 

It had taken you two weeks to be discharged from the hospital and be able to finally walk again, but when you did it — you felt like a whole new person, in a whole new world. Sure, you had to hold onto your mother or Jeongin wherever you went for the first week or so — it was almost like your legs had turned jelly.

When you returned home, Jeongin insisted that he take you to the garden every day, and when you complained that you couldn’t walk, he’d lifted you into his arms (bridal style, again) and carried you all the way there, and then given you a piggyback ride you all the way back home.

Eventually, you ended up telling him the truth — that the unrequited love that caused everything was because of how you’d fallen for him. You figured he deserved it, especially when he’d stuck with you the whole time without any hesitation and helped you whenever he could — he was truly one of the nicest, kindest people you’d ever met.

Of course, you were surprised when Jeongin only smiled and told you that he knew what you were talking about, and then proceeded to narrate how he’d overheard you in the hospital. Giggles left his lips when you gave him that meme-worthy look, making him shake his head before slinging and arm over his shoulder.

Surprisingly, that night ended just like the books — lovey-dovey confessions exchanged in the warm and intimate setting of the night sky, over shy smiles and lingering kisses. The both of you finally gave in to each other.

Huh, so maybe you were wrong about them — books — after all.

So when, your love was returned in the end, every flower in your chest had finally disappeared, and you couldn’t have been happier.

“You know when I brought you here I wanted you to help me pick flowers and not read a book?”

You laugh at the voice that comes from behind, closing the book shut before placing it on the side while Jeongin takes a seat beside you, hissing at the slight coldness of the grass. Ah, what a romantic scenario — green and colorful flowers as far as the eye could see, a book that you’ve been trying to finish but have never been able to because your boyfriend keeps interrupting you with his random outbursts of affection, and said person sitting right next to you.

“Well, you keep interrupting me all the time!” You chuckle, sliding a hand behind his shoulder before pulling him down to lie on your lap, and Jeongin complies. A sigh of content leaves his lips when he feels your fingers comb through his hair to rid them of any tangles — Jeongin feels stupid to not realise how much he loves you. It feels nice to call you his, feels nice to be able to say I love you, in all of it’s true meaning.

“What, I can’t cuddle my girlfriend now? Come on,” He takes your other hand in his, turning onto his back to look up at you before pressing his lips to the back of your hand. You feel the heat creep up your cheeks when he calls you his girlfriend, still not being able to take it in without growing immensely shy.

“You crybaby, fine. I’ll read the book later only because I love you and you give exceptionally nice cuddles.”

“Hmm, good.” He mumbles sleepily, eyes fluttering shut in calmness when he feels your fingers brush away any stray locks of hair that may get into his eyes. The reaction to your touch is so immediate these days, Jeongin thinks it’s a part of his routine now. Spend at least an hour admiring you in all of your happy, healthy glory.

Meanwhile, you’re sitting there, admiring his features in silence. His hair has grown longer now — Jeongin refuses to cut it no matter your endless verbalizations of how his original haircut looked better — and a small part of you has grown fond of this look too. His warm skin, and his sparkly eyes when he looks up at you, the bright, loving smile that he displays before getting out of your lap, kissing you on your lips to break you out of your focus.

The action only makes you more shy, and Jeongin laughs, cooing at your behavior before standing up, dusting his clothes off the dirt and extending his hand for you.

“Lend me a hand, will you?”

The line seems vaguely familiar and you’re overcome with a sense of deja vu, but nonetheless, you give him your hand, standing up before picking up your satchel and handing him his own.

“Now are you gonna pick a rose for me or do I have to do it myself again?” Jeongin raises an eyebrow and smirks, and you frown, slapping his arm before walking off to check all the flowers in their bushes.

“Hey, wait for me! Y/N!”

When he reaches you, he slides a hand into your own, interlacing the fingers before looking at you lovingly.

“I love you.” You both say at the same time, giggling at each other soon after — perhaps at how well you knew each other to time the confession so well.

So, this is how it ends. While you do think that things could’ve been handled differently, you’re glad that everything went the way it went, because in the end, you’d found him, he’d found you, you’d discovered your feelings together. You loved each other.

Because love and a red rose could never be truly hid.

but what if she had never recovered?

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[softcallofdutyimagines]

Can I get some Naga slight angst/fluff? Maybe an enemy group took the s/o and Naga has to negotiate getting them back (like $12 million) and daddy gets them back because “$12 million is a cheap price to get you back” idk I’m in love with how you write for the cod operators ❤️

Need this 😌💖💖💖💖 I turned it into a whole little fic, so I hope that's ok! This got pretty heavy, ngl, but I think it turned out sweet, so I hope you enjoy!!

Reader Pronouns: she/her

Warning: strong language and some pretty disrespectful language towards women, including implied physical violence if you squint, so be careful while reading guys!!!

Naga clears the trinkets and fine antiques off his desk with a full sweep of rage. A vase shatters and a small, crystal idol chips, but all he sees is short, typed ransom note before him.

A rival gang managed to snatch you up in the streets not two days ago. He's been worried sick ever since you didn't come home that evening, and even now it hasn't abated by much. No, instead an anger just as intense as the worry and fear rises to join the others. His entire being trembles almost imperceptibly as he reads the details of the letter.

They want 100 billion kip in gold. He has three days to bring it to the drop point in exchange for you. No guns or weapons on him or his men.

He slams a fist on the desk and collapses his head into his hands. Naga clenches a fistful of hair in one hand and swipes the note out of his sight with the other. He weighs his options only to realize...

Well, he doesn't really have any, does he?

He's very familiar with this group. They're ruthless cutthroats and, if he's being honest, he wouldn't out it past them to have killed you already and be stringing him along right now. In fact, as much we it makes him sick to say so, he almost hopes they've killed you.

It would be a much better fate then what they usually do to their victims.

Even three days is far too long to be in their captivity. God, just the thought of their hands on you... He shrieks in rage, wishing there was something else in his vacinity that he could destroy. But he knows that wouldn't help.

No, the only thing that would help him right now is having you back.

Kapano calla in his right hand man and throws the crumpled up letter to him. "Get the money", he growls.

The other man opens up the paper and reads the sum. His eyes go wide and before he can even suggest that he might protest this plan, a stiletto knife buries itself in the wood beside his head.

"I said get the fucking money!", he screams, eyes wide, teeth bared, and every muscle within him bristling. The second in command bows his head quickly and dashes off before something far worse is thrown his way.

Naga swears and applies some pressure to his forehead. It feels like his skull is about to split.

He spares a glance outside, then trudges to his room. Your, room. The sun hangs low in the sky and he has yet even more to do tomorrow. One piece at a time, he sheds his combat attire, nursing a headache all the while.

On a normal night, you offer to help him out of all the buckles and straps, and oh what he'd give to take you up on that offer now. At last he unclasps his jewelry down to one final necklace. This is a recent one, a locket you gave him with a tiny picture of the two of you inside. He loved it so much, he's since had it encrusted with a ruby heart and wears it daily.

At the memory of you, suddenly he feels unable to part with it, not even for just a night's sleep. He takes it off reverently and clasps it tightly in his hand. Poping open the little door, he fixates on your lovely face as he trudges to bed.

Naga crawls into his side, distracted for a long moment by the perfectly undisturbed second half of the bed. He knows how much you hate a cold bed. On any other night he'd lay in your spot for you until you join him, just to warm up the sheets for you.

He places the locket on your pillow, a shakiness starting to overtake him as he wonders if he'll ever have the chance to warm your sheets and share a bed with you again. At last he lays his head down, and yet he's unable to take his eyes off your half.

Even still, your pillow smells like oils and creams he bought you for your hair. He suspends his hand just over the pillow a moment, thinking of you. And when he lets it drop, he can't tell if it's the cause or the result of the tears flowing from him.

He can't fucking stand it anymore.

Kapano pulls your pillow close to him, holding it tight as he would you. At least tonight he'll have the comforting scent of you as he suffers another fitful night.

The following days up to the trade are slow and painful. Every night is worse then the last as he consumes himself with the stress and worry surrounding you.

He can't get to the drop point fast enough. In compliance with the ransom note, he and his men are unarmed. So they wait. And wait. And wait....

And just as he's ready to pull his hair out, a truck slowly rolls up the abandoned dirt road.

A small squad of men hop out and approach Naga and his gang. Then, bringing up the rear, the boss shoves you along, a gun pressed snug against your head.

"What the fuck is this? You said no guns!"

The rival boss spits, as though Naga's mere presence leaves a foul taste in his mouth. "What? You think I don't know about them?", he nods his head up.

Far, far in the branches, hidden from view at this angle, more of Naga's men wait in the tree canopy, armed and ready for any sign of foul play.

Damn it.

Naga glances over at you. You're looking pale and rather bruised and beaten. A far cry from the carefree, sun kissed goddess he usually knows.

"Alright, there's the fucking money, now give her to me!"

The other man clicks his tongue and presses his pistol against your temple, "Wait until we're loaded up first, then you can have your precious whore back"

Naga seethes at that, but is afraid to make a sudden movement last he lose you for good. And the rival boss notices. He smirks, a gratingly patronizing tone to his voice "Oh, I'm sorry? Did I insult your little harlot? We both know that's all she is...", He leans in far to close and licks your neck slowly, teasingly, before nipping your earlobe, "Isn't that right, bitch?"

This has gone on long enough. Naga's body quivers with boiling rage as his temper shoots through the ceiling. He shouts a command in his native tongue and a hail of bullets rain down on the opposing gang, the first several of which bury themselves in the man holding you hostage.

Behind him, Naga's men on the ground unsheathe small throwing knives and daggers, taking advantage of the surprise gunfire to press the attack.

But, at the death of their leader, the remaining crew scatters like flies and before long, all is quiet.

Kapano rushes forward to pick you up off the ground. He kneels down and cradles you in his arms as he removes your blindfold and cuts your hands free. Your tears carve small rivers through the dried blood running down your cheeks. You try to speak, but all that you can manage is a choked gasp.

He's never seen you like this before. And he never wants to again.

Naga shushes you, holding you against his chest while he strokes your hair. "Shhh, he's never going to touch you again. I promise", he kisses your forehead and helps you slowly to your feet, "Now let's get you out of here baby"

You don't say a word the whole ride back, but Naga holds your hand and rubs your back all the while. When you get home, he sets up a bath for you with all the salts and fragrances he knows you love. He offers you some help, but you say you'd like some time alone.

Somewhat reluctantly, he respects your wishes and sets off to make a meal and some tea for you both. It's all set up on the mat and pillows adorning the main hall. You look lovely as ever in your silk pajamas and lacy robe when you join him after your bath.

Slowly, you find your voice to speak, but it feels as though your mere presence is enough to earn you the praise Naga is showering you in. He's so focused on you, he nearly forgets to eat.

Once you're all finished, he decides to leave the dishes for later, and instead he pulls you onto his chest as you both recline into the fortress of pillows supporting you. Naga nuzzles your hair and kisses your temple.

You smell like jasmine and fresh citrus, infinitely better then the stench of stale sweat and musk of other men that he received you in.

He kisses your face gently, rubbing some warmth into your shoulders. You enjoy the quiet, but a small sniffing sound interrupts you.

"...Kapano?"

He sniffs again, wiping his eyes with his free hand. "Sorry, I just... God, I-I thought I'd never see you again", tears stream down cheeks, he rests his forehead against the side of yours.

You sigh, wishing you could just forget it all, "I know how you feel"

At that he tenses, and a quiet growl escapes your little tiger, "It'll never happen again, I swear it. I wish I could've pulled the trigger on the bastard myself... He deserved worse then what he got. Far worse"

You press a kiss to the broad tip of his nose and smile softly, "I love you, little dragon"

For the first time since he lost you, all those days ago, he smiles. He's not a big fan of when you first gave him that nickname. He hates to be described as "little", it's not very intimidating. But... Suddenly, it sounds quite endearing.

He kisses your perfumed lips, stroking a thumb over your battered cheek. "I know", he smiles. That night, you sleep out amongst the pillows, right where you are.

Tomorrow night, he'll be looking forward to warming up your side of the bed for you.

[samingtonwilson]

Mac and Cheese

Summary: Bucky takes the last box of frozen mac and cheese, takes your phone, and makes you fall in love with him. The audacity of that man.

Prompt: “This has been a very bad week and you just grabbed the last box of my favorite comfort food at the supermarket” 

Pairing: bucky x reader

a/n: i wrote this and was fully done formatting it and everything, like, 6 months ago. i didn’t post it because it’s approx. 82% nonsense but i figured why not post it now when it’s still 82% nonsense but im struggling to finish everything else. so taal, long time vegan, writes a story about mac and cheese and, listen, idk what this fic is either. can i write a fic without adding sam to it? no.

Mac and cheese. That’s all you want. Disgusting, frozen, usually-quite-mushy-if-not-microwaved-correctly mac and fucking cheese. 

The kind with the layer of cheese on top. The kind with that real elbow pasta, not rotini or penne or seashell pasta— real macaroni. The kind you try to only eat one serving size of before you eat everything in the package. The kind you always gravitate to when your eyes are stained red, swollen, and too proud to be anything other than dry.

You take the subway. You switch lines. You endure the smell of the F train during rush hour when you aren’t sure where your thigh ends and the thigh of the woman sitting beside you begins. All for that one Trader Joe’s, out of many, in Brooklyn the hipsters abandon before six because the coffee shop next door closes at five.

Your feet ache in your boots and you’re pretty sure a rock has somehow lodged itself between your toes, it’s starting to rain and you have no umbrella, you don’t think your throat has ever felt so parched. 

But you tuck your phone into your back pocket and march into that store with the hideous overhead lighting that makes your skin look like it hasn’t seen a bottle of toner in days like you’re Hades, the box of mac and cheese is Persephone, and Trader Joe’s is Mount Olympus.

You aren’t planning on smiling at anyone in greeting. You aren’t planning on making eye contact with anyone. You aren’t even planning on waiting politely behind whoever is inevitably idly standing in front of the pasta section of the frozen aisle— you’re going to say, “Excuse me.” Like the badass, New Yorker, on-the-verge-of-tears bitch you are and you’re going to toss that mac and cheese into your basket like you’re Steph Curry at the NBA Finals.

Lines are long when you walk in, cashiers bored-looking and tired. The produce section is a jungle of stay at home fathers and people who make their own pressed juice, the salad display a mess of college students trying to eat healthy. 

Your eyes accidentally meet those of a toddler who is slyly plucking a grape from a bag he had no intention of spending his allowance on and you smile.

You hold your basket like a designer handbag and dilly-dally only for a moment to pick up some yogurt for breakfast tomorrow. 

And some inauthentic babka because there’s no way in hell you’re going to endure Zabar’s after this. 

And a package of olive oil popcorn, a bottle of three dollar chardonnay, and string cheese. 

But that’s it. Self-control.

You feel the chill of the frozen aisle before you step into it. You feel the magnetic pull of that box with only one step in its direction. You stop for just a second to grab the mini mango and cream pops.

You almost roll your eyes to yourself when you see that someone is indeed standing right in front of the frozen selection of pasta. He’s staring at two boxes— a red one in his gloved left hand and the one in his right hand green.

As you grow closer you notice behind his curtain of dark hair that his eyebrows are knit together and he’s frowning at a decision he must be forcing himself to make. 

Sophie’s Choice, but involving mediocre excuses for Italian food and no Nazis— hopefully. Because who really knows these days?

He wears a forest green hoodie under a black leather jacket, black jeans tight around thick thighs. Boots, too. You think you might swoon.

And you wait behind him. You tap your foot, shift your weight, and chew on your bottom lip. You don’t say anything.

He looks over his shoulder when you curse under your breath and set the heavy basket at your feet. He’s apologetic— and handsome— by the looks of it, blue eyes slightly widened and lips downturned. “Shit,” he says as he takes a few steps to the right. “I’m sorry.”

You shrug. You kick your basket with the toe of your boot until it lightly smacks against the bottom of the freezer. “No problem. It’s a big decision.”

His eyes lift from the boxes and he smiles. “Biggest one I’ve gotten to make in a while.”

Setting your hands atop the cold metal railing, you stare down into the freezer. You see farfalle with roasted tomatoes, rigatoni with pesto, ricotta and spinach ravioli, roasted vegetable lasagna, cauliflower gnocchi, chicken parm, and… an empty space. 

You tilt your head.

You lean away and crouch to read the description cards, looking for the bubble letters to tell you where on Earth your saving grace is. When you spot the card, you stand again. The indicated space is empty, your heart is empty, your will to live is—

A box of organic pesto tortellini is tossed back into the freezer and you look up. Your eyes might lose their prideful dryness at any moment, even in public next to that handsome stranger with the nice jacket and,

the box of mac and cheese.

You gasp audibly and leap backwards. You point at the box in his left hand.

With an expression of panic, he holds his hands— and the box— up in innocence. “It’s okay. I’m not—”

“What the fuck is that?” you shout to gain the attention of customers you don’t even perceive, waggling your finger at the box. Your wide-eyed stare, and bared teeth, and messy hair must be terrifying. You hope they are.

He looks down at his hand. An eyebrow lifts. And, confusedly, he asks, “The box?”

“Yes, the fucking box!”

“It’s mac and—” he meets your gaze again. You’re wearing your anger like armor. But you aren’t scared. Bucky thinks he might never have felt such relief at a woman’s anger. “It’s mac and cheese.”

You shake your head. Wildly. Your neck hurts. “It’s the last box of mac and cheese!”

He glances at the box, then back at you. He jabs his thumb over his shoulder. “They might have some in the back—”

You shake your head again. A hint of devastation cracks your voice as you say, “It’s Monday night. Trader Joe’s restocks Tuesday night. This is usually all they have left.”

“I—” He pauses. “Is this shit really that good—”

“No, it’s not but that’s not the point!” you’re shouting again. And crying. Oh, God, you’re crying. In public. “The point is my building is going co-op!”

He tilts his head. “Your building is—”

“And I have to buy my apartment if I want to keep it! And they don’t give raises at my job to women unless they’re willing to suck something I won’t say in front of that kid right there,” you nod toward a little girl in a pink raincoat with her pin straight black hair in pigtails who stares at you in bewilderment. You sniffle. “So I quit. And I’m proud of myself for it. Because I have integrity, and I have self-respect, and I have no gag reflex, so the rejection should kill my boss dead.”

He cracks a small smile when you let out a short, watery, pathetic laugh. Easily, he holds the box out to you. “I hope your boss is dead, too.”

You laugh again and don’t hesitate before taking the box. You wipe your cheeks with your sleeve. “Thank you. You’re nice.”

“Not a popular opinion, but one I’ll certainly take.” He’s smiling and it’s warm. “Sorry— about all that.”

“You’re apologizing to me? I just screamed at you in the Trader Joe’s freezer aisle over mac and cheese.”

He shakes his head and picks up his own basket when you grab yours. “Your building’s going co-op and your boss deserves to burn in hell. You should get all the mac and cheese you want.”

You reach into the freezer for that green box of tortellini he’d thrown in, tossing it into his basket with a smile. Steph Curry at the NBA Finals. “Still. I’m sorry for yelling and I hope the tortellini doesn’t suck too bad.”

“It’s frozen pasta. My expectations are low.”

You hum a laugh and walk past him to the crowded lines at the registers. “As they should be.”

It’s when you’re lost in the sea of customers and Bucky is deciding between frozen palak paneer and frozen lamb vindaloo with basmati rice that he feels a tug at the hem of his jacket. 

He looks away from the green and orange boxes, lowering his gaze to meet curious almond-shaped eyes beneath blunt black bangs. He smiles and she returns it. “Yes?”

She reveals her right hand, which she had hidden behind her pink raincoat, and holds a phone up to Bucky as far as her arm will let her.

“Is that your phone?”

She shakes her head and giggles. Loud, happy, and squeaky. “Yelling lady dropped her phone.”

Bucky’s eyebrows knit together until a woman, much closer to his height, steps behind the little girl. She takes the phone the girl holds out and offers it to Bucky when he straightens his posture. Her smile looks like the little girl’s. “We figured you would have a good chance at getting it back to her.”

He takes the phone and nods his thanks. Pressing the power button reveals a picture of you and a dog, a large, fluffy dog with its pink tongue hanging low. You’re smiling brightly and, oddly, it seems like the dog is, too.

—

“So you just took her phone? Didn’t even ask an employee to keep it there in case she came back for it?”

Bucky, watching the tray of pasta rotate in the microwave, scowls. “I would’ve if I’d known that was an option. And stop eating my fuckin’ chips.”

Sam tosses back another handful of kettle-cooked barbecue potato chips in defiance so the obnoxious crunching echoes through the kitchen. He smiles sarcastically when Bucky snatches the bag and rolls it up. Half is already gone. “You come up with how you’re gonna get it back to her?”

“Thinkin’ about asking Pepper to post a picture of it like it’s a missing child to that ‘Tweeter’ nonsense,” Bucky replies dryly. He’s glaring at Sam as he leans his hip against the counter. “You and I both know I haven’t come up with shit.”

Sam snorts and is smiling in amusement, deep brown eyes alight. Bucky hates the sight. “Tweeter. You’re so fuckin’ old.”

It’s been hours since Bucky took the phone from who he learned is little Vivienne and her mother, and he is no closer to getting it back to you. 

He’d tried looking for you at the store but there were too many people for a Trader Joe’s that Yelp claimed was the least busy in New York for that to yield results. So he returned to the Tower. He thought about asking Tony to look into the doohickey but figured an invasion of privacy should be the last resort.

He pulls the tray from the microwave with nimble vibranium fingers and sniffs the pasta before setting it down on the counter. He removes a bowl from one of the cabinets and dumps the steaming pasta in it, a sprinkle of freshly grated parmesan from a tub he’d bought— also at Trader Joe’s— a finishing touch.

“She’s cute,” Sam says when the screen lights up with an incoming text notification.

Bucky spins his fork between his fingers as he walks around the counter to sit on the barstool beside Sam’s. He glances at the phone as well. “Very cute,” he agrees. “She had a shitty day. Something about her apartment goin’ co-op. Whatever the hell that means.”

Sam frowns. “Means she’s gotta buy the place. And with New York real estate prices right now,” he shakes his head with a sigh. “She better have a well-paying job.”

“Quit that today, too.” Bucky takes a bite of the pasta and hisses as it burns his tongue. “Boss is a creep that asked for some action in exchange for a raise.”

“Jesus. Poor girl.”

The tortellini isn’t great. It’s a little bland, a bit too dry, and there isn’t enough filling— but it’s better than Bucky had expected. He takes another bite. “Yeah. And I took the last box of mac and cheese. Which is what she went to the store for.”

“I’m surprised your head wasn’t chopped off.”

Bucky smiles. “She yelled— a lot. Was crying, too, ‘til she said something and made herself laugh.”

Sam then begins teasing Bucky juvenilely for having a crush until both men are laughing and shoving one another to see who falls off their stool first, Sam only relenting when Bucky hands the potato chips to him again as a peace offering.

The bowl is in the sink and the chips are down to just crumbs when a loud ringtone— an instrumental version of an R&B song Bucky recognizes from Sam’s many plays of the original— shocks the two of them.

It’s from an unknown number and Bucky is unsure if he should pick up until Sam swipes answer and puts the call on speakerphone. “Hello?”

A sigh. Bucky doesn’t know if it’s one of relief or frustration. “I’m hoping whoever this is found my phone and didn’t steal it.”  

Sam shoves Bucky’s shoulder with a toothy grin and Bucky rolls his eyes. “The little girl you almost traumatized in the freezer aisle found it and gave it to me.”

Another sigh— the relief in this one is obvious— and you’re laughing. “It’s you— tortellini dude. Must’ve fallen when I crouched down.”

“Seems like it, yeah.”

“So are you gonna ask for my address or do I have to schlep over to Avengers Tower?”

Bucky and Sam exchange a look. “Avengers Tower?”

“You weren’t exactly in disguise— I realized who you are the minute I left the store. Would’ve recognized you right away but I was in my own head and you aren’t my favorite Avenger.”

Bucky smiles. “Yeah? And who is?”

“Falcon.”

Immediately, the phone is taken from Bucky’s hand. “Hi, baby, you’ve got Falcon.”

A gasp, a pause, then you laugh. Audibly stunned laughter. “You guys actually hang out with each other? That’s cute.”

Before Sam can reply, Bucky flicks his forehead— in reply to which Sam elbows Bucky’s ribs— and takes the phone back. “I can bring your phone to you whenever you’re free.”

“Awesome. I’m unemployed now so any time tomorrow is fine.”

You tell him your address before hanging up and he wishes you a good night. Your laughter is the last thing he hears before three beeps signify the end of the call.

—

Bucky takes the subway. He switches lines to the F train. He tries not to mind the overpowering smell of stale B.O. and deli meat leftover from rush hour, the skittering steps of a rat across the floor in the adjacent empty car. He ignores those who stare at him intensely enough to burn the fabric right off his skin. All for that one apartment in SoHo.

He thinks the gash below his ribs might still be leaking as the warm, moist subway station air blows past him. He can feel that cluster of bruises above his knee— the one from the pipe the hostile operative had ripped off the rickety walls of a nearly destroyed Hydra base— every time he takes a step, more so as he climbs the stairs.

He knows he must be quite a sight with combat boots and tac pants worn and dusty, a simple bomber jacket thrown over a ripped, sliced, stained compression tank. His mind is blank, his eyes shadowy, the ghost of something terrible lurking behind blue and grey. 

Posture stiff and muscles cold, steps crisp despite the ache, he follows the familiar path and manages to form the thought of turning around. Not bringing this all to a threshold— or, more accurately, a windowsill— he’s only crossed three or four times. He’s too weak, though.

It takes one rap of his knuckles against the third-story window for a lamp to flicker on, gauzy drapes pushed aside. You smile as he lifts the window open, stepping aside as he enters the apartment with careful grace. He feels less guilty when he sees that your bed is still made and your hair isn’t the tangled mess it usually is when he bursts in at a late hour.

“I have a door.”

“Okay, show-off.”

It’s when he steps into the light of the standing lamp in the room’s corner that your quiet laughter gives way to a soft gasp. 

He doesn’t like the widening of your eyes or the way you gently lift the right side of his jacket, fingers light against the torn fabric. But you laugh again, and it shakes in nervousness. “You know I’m not a doctor, right? Or a nurse? Or even a pharmacist with high self-efficacy?”

He nods and, despite himself, there’s a smile pulling at a corner of his lips. His eyes brighten a little. “It’ll heal itself.”

“Confidence. I like that in a burglar.”

Before he can take a step further into your bedroom, you click your tongue against the roof of your mouth and point at his feet. “Boots.”

He kicks them off with a sigh and a groan when the shifting of his knee sends a tremor up his leg. His jacket is tossed aside as well, and he catches the black t-shirt you throw to him. You’d washed it, folded it, and put it in your closet. 

Just a little more brightness. “You owe me mac and cheese.”

“Oh, I owe you mac and cheese? We’re really holding onto shit from four months ago?”

He nods again and pulls his tank off, withholding a wince.

Eyebrow raised, you cross your arms over your chest. You’re giving him a narrow look but, because you’re clearly struggling against a smile, it’s one of his favorites of the expressions you’ve ever offered him. 

You give him a towel next— pastel blue. “Shower and then we’ll see about me owing you something.”

He wants to say thank you, do more than smile. 

But he knows if he so much as opens his mouth while you’re looking at him the way you are, he’ll tell you he’s fallen in love with you over the last four months, that maybe he’s been in love since you screamed at him in the freezer section of Trade Joe’s. 

He’ll go to say thank you, but the words of a Byron poem he’d learned to impress a girl in his English class more than eighty years ago will come pouring out or he’ll simply kiss you like he wishes he could on the nights he can’t sleep or during the missions he can just barely endure. 

He’ll go to say thank you, and then tell you with no clarity whatsoever that you’re what he finds comfort in when he’s had a hard day. That the disgusting, mushy, nothing-compared-to-fresh mac and cheese is just an excuse.

But he just smiles. And nods. And takes a shower.

His hair is still wet as he stands across from you at the kitchen counter. There’s a bowl of steaming pasta between you, a spoon in his hand and a fork in yours. “You’re dripping onto the counter.”

With a cocking of his eyebrow, he shakes his head and you sputter a laugh, shoving his shoulder. “Bucky!”

He laughs then, fully and happily, as he reaches over to wipe the drops from your cheeks and forehead. You only smile back, the gleaming of your eyes making him feel warm all over.

“This shit’s terrible, by the way,” he says after a minute of staring.

You shrug a shoulder. “Told you.”

“And you fought me for it. Publicly.”

You shrug again and laugh. You lean your elbows atop the counter to match his relaxed posture, dragging a noodle through a particularly large puddle of melted cheese. 

Looking up, your nose nearly bumps Bucky’s and you hope he doesn’t hear your breath stall. You try to smile. “Makes me feel better when I need to fill that hole in my heart.”

“With cholesterol?” he jokes.

“Yes. It’s excellent. It’s like spackle.” As he laughs and you roll your eyes, you push off the counter to stand straight. “I’m glad you’re back.”

“Yeah?”

You hum. “I’m seeing an apartment I want tomorrow and need the rent lowered. And you’re the Winter Soldier.”

He considers that for a moment and you burst into laughter just as his eyes narrow into a fond glare. “You want me to scare them into lowering the rent?”

“Don’t think of it as you scaring them,” you begin, rounding the counter to stand next to him, hip leant against the marble, “think of it as you being an amazing friend and helping me.” A moment later you add, “By scaring them.”

He chuckles and shakes his head. He glances at the bowl to avoid the risk of staring at you for too long. “Fine.”

You grin. “You really take no convincing.”

A snort and he meets your gaze. “Only when it comes to you. I’m afraid you’ll start crying again.”

“So I could ask you for anything and you’d probably say yes?”

He shrugs a bit, then nods. Who is he kidding? You could ask for his right arm and he’d give it to you.

“Okay. Go on a date with me then.”

There’s a pause— in the conversation, in his chest. “A what?”

“A date. It’s like dinner, or coffee, or a movie, or something.” You grin when he takes half a step in your direction and his hands grip onto the counter at either side of you. “It’s this thing people do when they like each other.”

Something much more than like is in the sparkling of your eyes and the tilt of your head. Something that might match exactly what’s in his eyes whenever he’s around you. His insides burn at the thought.

“I know what a date is.”

“They had those back in your day?”

He nods and leans forward. “Not from the Stone Ages.”

Your lips brush lightly against his, hand set on his chest to feel the rapid beating beneath. You smile and he thinks he might melt. “Could’ve fooled me with that hair.”

Laughing, he presses his lips to yours a little harder.

—

Apartment littered with unpacked boxes, misplaced books, and askew furniture, you sit on top of the counter where Bucky works. He’s twirling a knife through his metal fingers, arranging sprigs of chives on the cutting board with the flesh ones. 

He smiles when he catches you staring at the pan cooling on the stove. “S’not done yet.”

You sigh. Loudly, heavily. “You took it out of the oven. That means it’s done.”

“It needs to cool for a few minutes or you’ll burn off your taste buds. You want to burn off your taste buds?”

“You want to burn off your taste buds?” you repeat in a high-pitched, taunting voice. You’re scowling and, somehow, look to be on the verge of snatching the knife from him to stab it through his chest. “Maybe I do.”

Less than a minute later, you groan and add, “I don’t care how good you are in bed. I’m about ten seconds from dumping you.”

Swiftly, he chops the chives and turns around to sprinkle a bit into the baking dish. “You know, most people would say thank you.”

“Most people don’t have to wait an hour while their boyfriend attempts to make mac and cheese when there’s a perfectly good box in the freezer that would take four minutes.”

“It’s worth it.”

In all honesty, he doesn’t know if it’s worth it. 

He’d asked Sam for a recipe and did his best to follow it despite the autocorrect which had changed “gruyere” to “grape year.” But he trusts it since Sam generally knows what he’s doing in the kitchen. Unlike Steve who had continuously attempted to chime in with useless suggestions such as, “Maybe don’t add the paprika.”

“Just trust me,” he urges as if replying to the growling of your stomach which has interrupted his search for the plates he could’ve sworn he’d unpacked. He’s crouched and searching the lower cabinets as he adds, “You’ll fall in love with me after you try it.” 

“Who says I haven’t already?” 

He stops searching.

He peeks his head above the edge of the counter and, his eyes wide, he sees you pulling two plates from a box placed on the small nook table. Your smile is small and a bit sheepish— the latter something he’d never seen from you. 

“You never took them out,” you tell him, the clatter of ceramic on the wooden surface loud when you set the plates down. As you approach and he stands to his full height, you sigh and roll your eyes at the look he gives you. “Yes, I love you. It can’t be that shocking.”

“It isn’t.” 

“Someone should tell your face that.”

Chuckling over the heavy thumps in his chest, he leans forward to kiss you but pauses just to say, “I love you, too, by the way.” 

When an empty dish sits between the two of you, Bucky’s stomach warm and full of over three-quarters of it, you stand from the table and walk to the freezer. 

Shooting a smile over your shoulder, you grab the familiar red box and toss it into the stainless steel trash can. Steph Curry at the NBA Finals. “I’m never eating that shit again.”

[boop-le-snoot]

PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 32

💖 first time reader click here 💖

Summary: Stephen Strange being a grown-up. Reader being a grown-up. Kind of. Revenge plot starts now - don't be like the mercenary, don't threaten reader's family. Avengers being good.. bros? Good found family idk. More smut + plot coming soon.

The silence hung awkwardly over us. Stephen wasn't the one to wax poetics, usually, and I wasn't in the mood to do anything but curl up somewhere warm, chug a bottle of liquor and fall asleep. Sleep is like death without the committment and after my little outburst, I inwardly prayed and begged for the ground to open up and swallow me whole. Instead, I was directed to sit and drink my tea by the sorcerer, who, by the way, was beginning to look like a kicked puppy.

It was starting to become unbearable. "I'm listening," I finally croaked out, shocked at how raspy my voice sounded. As if someone had forced me to choke on some nails - and I felt like it, too. My hands were shaking, all but spilling the hot tea onto them.

"Princess..." His mouth did the thing when he was worried, lips pursed, their corners upturned. "What we did was not... Right, you were drugged without your consent. I am sure Tony feels the same way."

My eyebrows rose, words bubbling up to the surface as I fought the urge to simply start calling Stephen some strong names. Had he been blind the whole time I flirted with him, had he not seen both me and Tony ogling him when we thought nobody could see? Every time I joked about the sexual tension between them - you know what they say, every joke has a little bit of truth in it.

Or maybe the sorcerer had used the incident as a convenient excuse for our little fuck-fest to be a one-time thing? I expected more, I won't lie, but I wouldn't put it above him. I knew all too well that some men tended to simply... Avoid.

I was angry, probably rightfully so, but it was not the time for me to comfort an adult man. My own life was going to shit, I had no mental energy to unburden his baseless guilt. It was selfish and it made me feel even more like shit, but it was as if someone had flipped a switch inside of me. I just didn't care about someone's heartbreak. I needed to solve another problem, a much bigger than a man that couldn't make up his mind.

I had to find that damn mercenary. It was the only real threat hanging over our heads; unlike any mission that I've seen the team go on before, they had thrown all the forces into catching the man that had gotten into their safe space, their home. That threatened to take what they thought as theirs. Long gone were the days of comfortable domesticity.

"Okay," I replied, nodding curtly. "I wanted it, if it helps any. I thought you were attractive the first day I saw you." I spoke bluntly, beginning to feel like myself more and more with each word that I spoke. "And again, no strings have to be attached. I'm sure Tony will understand it too, it's not his first rodeo."

Stephen's head shot up from where he was examining his clasped hands, to study me with furrowed brows. Cloaky moved where it was wrapped around me, attracting the sorcerer's attention - I, unfortunately, did not understand the Cloak's sign language and what it told Stephen remained a mystery to me. I was just delighted to be out of the cold and and wet clothes.

"I think you misunderstood me," Stephen eyed me with surprise. "I want more, but..." He trailed off, unsure. "I don't know. I'm surprised Banner hasn't gone green on me yet. I'm a doctor, I should have known..."

So, he was pulling a me and wallowing in pity. Is this really how pathetic I looked when I used to mope around the house earlier? No wonder my mother thinks I'm a baby. "Stephen, I'm really not in the mood to listen to bullshit. I wanted it, you wanted it, great, we can move on. Because with everything that has happened to me, I really have no energy to convince you I like you even while sober when you're sabotaging yourself." Sure, I might have ripped off the motivational speech from a self-help book my mother used to have laying around. My patience was wearing thinner with each second. "There, I said it. I like you, my boyfriends like you, you're welcome to the club if you decide to believe the fact that I am telling the truth." And if he wouldn't, well, I could get over it. I was planning to never act upon my feelings for both Tony and Bruce, it hadn't been as hard as I thought it would be. Especially with me being busy enough to just ignore the feelings.

At some point, I had grown attached to Stephen. Perhaps, if I and Tony hadn't decided to mess around with the sorcerer at the party, my feelings wouldn't have bloomed into anything more than physical attraction. Murphy's law had a particularly strong affinity on me, I noticed, because over and over I found myself falling head over heels for emotionally unavailable men. It worked out with Tony, which wasn't as surprising as one might expect, considering we're two halves of a whole idiot, but then Bruce also decided to pucker up - Stephen was bound to be the rock that I trip on.

Or not? Soft lips pressed against my forehead, beard hair softly tickling the tip of my nose. I was pressed against a solid chest, surrounded by warmth and comfort. "I'm sorry, I'm an idiot," Steph whispered, voice quivering.

"Well, it's not like this... Relationship... I've got going on is something commonplace," My arms wrapped around him, a deep sigh relaxing my body into his. "I'm sorry I yelled at you. It wasn't right."

Stephen chuckled, all but pulling me bodily into his lap. "Don't worry, Princess. I deserved it." As he spoke, the Cloak carefully unwrapped itself from me, drifting away with a parting pat on my back. "Now what happened with your parents?" Large palms pushed the hair out of my face, stormy blue eyes looking at me with worry.

"I should probably assemble all my significant others for this conversation," There was little enthusiasm in discussing the incident. I was an adult and had enough money to get by for a few months, at least until I could patent one of my inventions. I had plenty of knick-knacks that should be able to interest buyers, that much I knew, and while the legal side of the process was a blank slate to me, I knew I could be charismatic enough to have someone work it out for me.

"I don't think I'll be able to take Steve seriously when he says 'assemble', now," My third boyfriend chuckled, which - wow, I didn't have boyfriends and now I had three? Should I be considering opening a factory or something? Stephen adjusted his hold on me. "Let's go, I'll portal us in."

"My car's out there with all my stuff. I'll have to drive," I protested but made no move to get out of his lap.

"Tony is a billionaire, he can pay someone to retrieve it," Shrugging carelessly, he produced a golden circle of magic, the common room couch in plain sight at the other side of it. I heard voices and then Clint's head peaked through, a curiously tilted eyebrow morphing into full fledged face of confusion upon seeing the two of us.

Yikes. I had forgotten about the state of my dress and the bruise on my cheek. "Hey, bird. I need a drink," I said the first thing that popped into my mind, causing both Clint and Steph to laugh as the sorcerer carried me into the tower through the portal.

"I'm starting to think you go out there and look for trouble on purpose," The archer sighed, pulling out his phone and texting rapidly. Mine vibrated, too, once he was done, which meant he'd called for a family meeting. Blergh.

In no time, Tony appeared, dark circles under his eyes and yesterday's shirt on, towing a worried Bruce behind him. One after the other, the Avengers tickled in, looking restless and exhausted. Loki's frown was well on its way to becoming a full sneer.

"Talk, please," He requested, eyeing me with concern.

"Good news is I got our rogue wizard back," I poked Stephen in the chest. He was blushing. "Bad news is my mother threw me out and my father didn't pick up the phone, so technically I'm homeless and parent-less," I decided that spitting out straight facts was the easiest way to go about it. I mean, there was no good way to tell what I just told them.

The storm that I anticipated didn't appear. Just a lot of disappointed sighs all around, especially from Tony, who looked twenty years older after I'd confessed to the current state of my affairs. "You're not homeless, you live here," He pointed out, rubbing his face and muttering some very strong words under his nose. Particularly, the expressions involved my mother and various methods of fornication.

"We got your back, doll," Bucky nodded, coming over to wrap me in a gentle hug. He was like a brother from another mother to me at this point, kind and goofy and sensible. "I would propose to teaching that harpy a lesson but I think she's beyond it."

"Perhaps it's for the best," Loki mused suddenly. "If I recall correctly, your mother was against your career of choice, which is idiotic. Science is a noble and prospective path." The Asgardian, too, gave me a hug.

I wasn't crying! There were ninjas, in the vents, cutting onions! "Stop it guys, I'm gonna cry. I already look like shit!" The protest was silenced by Bruce's lips on mine, his tiny smile briefly covering my mouth with tenderness. After that, everybody somehow decided it was their job to try and make me cry; like a bad bitch, I resisted, but eventually broke and started sniffling when Tony began rambling about building me my own lab and Wanda offered to help me decorate my new apartment.

No matter how much my mind screamed at me to refuse, I forced that noise down. Fighting against myself, accepting help despite feeling unworthy of it - it was probably the hardest thing I've done in my whole life.

Bruce volunteered to carry my prone body to Tony's bedroom which was quickly becoming the master bedroom for the three of us - ever since the incident, both of my scientists stuck close to me whenever possible, aggressively cuddling me whenever they decided it was time to get some sleep. Which wasn't much these days, if I was being honest. Persuading Bruce to stay with me was a novelty - usually he didn't resist, but that time, I had to repeat myself multiple times that the team could handle business even without him being present.

I had my ulterior motives, of course. Tony and Stephen needed to talk. I only hoped their egos wouldn't clash without me to mediate - having two boyfriends start a fight wasn't something I wanted to experience. I had zero experience in those matters and had no idea how to manage all that. Are there handbooks for polyamorous relationships? I stuck a mental post-it note inside my brain to check it out.

I fell asleep with Bruce wrapped around me and woke up in the same position, having been too exhausted to move even in my sleep. Voices, rough and quiet, were the first thing I heard upon syncing my brain into a resemblance of a working order, instantly recognizing Stephen's deep baritone and Tony's teasing drawl.

"Expect either Reindeer Games or Kim Possible to come and terrify you," My engineer didn't sound particularly ecstatic. His voice came from somewhere around my feet; the hand wrapped around my ankle, thumb gently stroking the skin, must've been his.

"Duly noted," Stephen's reply was equally sarcastic, sounding a little closer. The warmth coming from my side was him. I could smell the faint spices that surrounded him, smell that I'd come to associate with the Sanctum.

Bruce snored away, not a care in the world.

My body, on the other hand, felt rested for what felt the first time in years. A pleasant ache in my muscles had me begrudgingly squirm out of Banner'd grasp, shamelessly pushing up into Stephen as I stretched with a juicy yawn. "What's poppin'?" I rubbed my eyes, finding the men awake looking at me with fond amusement.

"Just watching," Tony smiled, causing me to giggle at his accidental meme-ing. Was it even accidental? I refused to believe that a man well versed in IT was oblivious to meme culture.

Stephen, on the other hand... "We've discussed some things, wanted to talk to you too." His hand stroked my hair, face expression soft unlike anything I'd ever seen him have. "But you were sleeping. So cute."

Me, cute? There was a puddle of drool the size of a dollar bill on my pillow, I was pretty sure some of it had even gotten in Bruce's hair. Banner's sleep was quiet except for every five minutes when he'd let out a snore with a force somewhere between a Mack truck and a whale in mating season.

Cute, sure.

Bruce groaned, a tell-tale sign of him waking up. I met his eyes, brown, shiny, a narrow edge of green around his irises. Huh. Do I have three boyfriends or four?

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub ​ @mostly-marvel-musings  @vozit ​ @littlegasps ​ @pilloclock ​ @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads ​ @hermione-grangers-wife ​ @individualistfem ​@sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby @romeo-the-cactus @jelly-fishy-babie @mikariell95 @gladiosamicitias

[starfiresupernova]

The BAU and their Taylor Swift holy trinity

I know I’ve already made a bau/taylor swift post before, but i wanted to put more thought into it and elaborate a little more so here we go

PENELOPE

favorite album: Lover (it’s fun and pop-y and totally her aesthetic, she would bop to it all the time) favorite songs: 1. Paper Rings  2. Our Song 3. Gorgeous

EMILY

favorite album: reputation (it’s a bad bitch album with romantic undertones, it’s an album that screams emily to me and i think she’d love it) favorite songs: 1. I Know Places 2. Miss Americana & the Heartbreak Prince 3. So It Goes...

JJ

favorite album: Fearless (she seems like she’d love the country-pop early taylor stuff, and Fearless especially, but also the more sentimental family-centered songs) favorite songs: 1. seven 2. Fearless 3. invisible string

SPENCER

favorite album: folklore (i feel like this one is pretty self-explanatory. it’s such an intelligent yet also whimsical album, and he’d love everything about it. and he would also love Speak Now for the same reasons, but folklore is just better) favorite songs: 1. the lakes 2. Soon You’ll Get Better 3. Enchanted

DEREK

favorite album: reputation (he’s definitely the type to say he doesn’t like taylor swift but then blast this album on every road trip. he loves it) favorite songs: 1. ...Ready For It? 2. False God 3. Style

HOTCH

favorite album: Red (i don’t really know how to explain why this is his favorite, but i just feel it lolol) favorite songs: 1. Cornelia Street 2. This Love 3. Holy Ground

ROSSI

favorite album: folklore (it’s less pop-y and more subdued, though he definitely won’t admit that he hums shake it off to himself in the kitchen sometimes) favorite songs: 1. the last great american dynasty 2. Lover 3. The Last Time

LUKE

favorite album: 1989 (this is another one that i just feel in my soul. it’s one of his favorite albums of all time, i just know it) favorite songs: 1. I Wish You Would 2. Death By A Thousand Cuts 3. Delicate

TARA

favorite album: Speak Now (it has some of the more rock-like songs and we all know she likes rock music. plus it’s just an overall solid album and i feel like she appreciates it) favorite songs: 1. Forever And Always 2. State Of Grace 3. The Story Of Us

MATT

favorite album: Fearless (he and jj definitely bond over their love of old taylor, especially Fearless. idk why but maybe it’s because of their families?) favorite songs: 1. Afterglow 2. Love Story 3. Mine

ALEX

favorite album: folklore (she and spencer definitely discuss folklore a lot, i just know it. lyrically it’s the best, and alex knows this) favorite songs: 1. august 2. Sad Beautiful Tragic 3. illicit affairs

KATE

favorite album: Lover (she and garcia talk about it all the time, it’s a very fun album and i feel like kate likes the fun songs) favorite songs: 1. Dancing With Our Hands Tied 2. I Think He Knows 3. Red

ELLE

favorite album: reputation (a bad-bitch album for the baddest bitch i know) favorite songs: 1. You’re Not Sorry 2. I Did Something Bad 3. Dress

GIDEON

favorite album: folklore (the lakes was literally written about him asldjflsdkfj, also he likes it because it’s mellow) favorite songs: 1. epiphany 2. New Year’s Day 3. It’s Nice To Have A Friend

SEAVER

favorite album: Red (don’t hate me for giving her one, she isn’t a bad person she’s just boring aldsfdj ANYWAY, idk this is just another one i feel. she likes Red and that’s all i can say) favorite songs: 1. Back To December 2. This Is Me Trying 3. Everything Has Changed

CRUZ

favorite album: Speak Now (i had to make one for my man cruz. anyway, i just know Speak Now is his go-to because he’s a man of Taste) favorite songs: 1. Dear John 2. All Too Well 3. All You Had To Do Was Stay

[ana0072]

My favorite Seventeen ship fics on Ao3; Part 1.

Be warned I read a LOT of smut so if that makes you uncomfortable and isn't your cup of tea, just skip the scenes. STILL SUPPORT THE AUTHORS THEY WORKED HARD ON THE FANFICS.

(See here for the most common tropes in these ships)

Also a disclaimer, I as a reader, does not take any of these to heart nor do I apply them to real life and judge the boys whether or not they do anything done in these stories. It is merely fanfiction.

Soonhoon

1. Adventures of Cat and Kitten by SunAndMoon (LadyMorgaine)

Hybrid AU, A/B/O

Top Soonyoung/Bottom Jihoon

Side Verkwan, Jihancheol, Junhao, other ships to be added.

Alpha Tiger Hoshi, Omega Cat Jihoon

Series

There are two books, the first one mainly focuses on Soonhoon but the other one explores the other ships more

Jihoon is a sassy bottom but very needy

Soonyoung is a dominating top but also complies to Jihoons wishes of course

Soonyoung calls him kitten Yasss

They are literally a power couple

Very kinky

The first book is geared a lot towards the sexy times

The second book has been 70% dialogue and storyline

Fluff, smut, romance, angst

Overall very tasty 9/10

2. Vampires Before Christmas by SunAndMoon (LadyMorgaine)

Vampire AU

Top Soonyoung/Bottom Jihoon

Side Verkwan, Jeongcheol, Meanie, Junhao, Seoksoo

Series

There are 4 books  ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Soonyoung is a hottie

He covers all Wattpad book bad boy love interest bases

Mysterious? Check. Jihoon met him in the rain, no idea what he does for work or where he goes when he's gone.

Rich? Check. Comes from old money he says. Owns at leasts two countries probably.

Caring? Check. Nursed Jihoon back to health when he was sick and continued doing so even when he wasn't.

Hottie? Check. The most attractive man out there, Jihoon the lucky bastard.

An otherwordly being? UM HE IS LITERALLY A FREAKING VAMPIRE??? HELLO???

Soonyoung was the embodiment of your wildest dreams like even though Jihoon was actually on the brink of death, like my man fucking touched god, he was still horny when he got close to Soonyoung and kept smelling him like he was ambrosia or something. Then he had a wet dream about him. Understandable.

VERY cute story. Soonyoung got like the biggest dick out there too.

Smut, Romance, Fluff, Angst

19/10 read it time and time again.

3. All eyes on you by aquariusblues

Dance school AU

Top Jihoon/Bottom Soonyoung

Slowwwwww burnnnn

It was maddening how in denial Jihoon was

His perseverance is something to be admired

Soonyoung is the new kid thats friends with everyone

They both keep burning themselves out like please take a fucking break

Wow is that miscommunication I hear? Oh it definitely is, and there is so much of it

This book makes you wanna pull your hair and not in a kinky way

I actually cried when they finally got together

There isn't much smut in here

EVERYONE IS YELLING AT JIHOON TO ADMIT HIS FEELINGS

The rest of the members are barely there

Mostly monologues

Lots of self deprecation and self acceptance

Its beautiful in a sense

But I wanted to throw my phone

This story haunts me at night

Angst, Fluff?, brief smut

7/10 Reccomend this to a friend–so you both can revel in your frustrations

4. No strings attached by aquariusblues

After College AU????

They have their own jobs and everyone is doing their own things?? What do I put here

Switch SoonHoon

Minor Verkwan, Meanie

Soonyoung is Seungkwans cousin

Jihoon is Seungkwans boss/friend

So thats how they got together

Awkward? Seungkwan offered okay its fine

They wanted a friends with benefits thing

But they've been sleeping exclusively with each other

So thats a problem

Or so they think

Soonhoon never want to admit their feelings

They just can't feelings with each other

THIS AUTHOR JUST CAN'T FEELINGS WITH SOONHOON

Emotions are hard

ALSO VERKWAN IS GETTING MARRIED

It was a brief scene but good for Vernon being able to put a ring on it

SEE SOONHOON COMMUNICATION IS KEY GUYS

THATS RELATIONSHIP 101

But their dynamic was adorable

Romance, smut, fluff

8/10 spaced out and remembered it again

5. Code Red by just_a_pinwheel

Police AU, A/B/O

Top Soonyoung/Bottom Jihoon

Alpha Soonyoung, Omega Jihoon

Side Jeongcheol, Meanie, Verkwan, Junhao

Jihoon hates Soonyoung

Then Soonyoung becomes his boss

AND HIS NEIGHBOUR HAHAHAH

Oopsiesss

They both loveee work

Like proper workaholics

Lots of pushing and pulling

They broke up in the middle of it

I wanted to scream

Heats and mating

Of course its ABO

I have never wanted to slap Jihoon so much

Lots of crying and denial of feelings

"Its for the best" NO ITS NOT DON'T BREAK UP

Sorry I'm bitter

They are literally surrounded by the healthiest couples they just can't deal

Soonyoung is just tired

Romance, smut, fluff, angst, violence, gore???

Its a police au so theres gonna be blood

8/10 when will their torture end???

6. Mask Kingdom by just_a_pinwheel

Mob AU

Top Soonyoung/Bottom Jihoon

Side Jeongcheol, Meanie

Both of them are crime bosses its actually really hot

Soonyoung is a BIG flirt

The first time they formally met, Jihoon gave him a blowjob LOL

Soonyoung calls him princess yes please

Jihoon still can't feelings

Im sensing a pattern here

But he comes around pretty fast don't worry uwu

There was one chapter where Soonyoung got REAL jealous and they had some rough sex lol

He BRIEFLY called him oppa during it

Its chapter 21 I gotchu fam

Jeonghan was a bitch for a while BUT THERES A REASON OKAY THATS NOT JUST HIS PERSONALITY

Jihoon is a little twat but I can say that about every fanfiction of him so go figure

SMUT, ANGST, barely there fluff, romance

6/10? Its kinda bland

7. What we were promised by Mistehri

Mafia AU, A/B/O

Top Soonyoung/Bottom Jihoon

Alpha Soonyoung, Omega Jihoon

Side Jihancheol, Meanie, Junhao, Verkwan

Heats and Mating

BTS and Ateez are there too

Yoongi and Jimin are together, I don't know why i felt the need to say that

Yoongi is Jihoons cousin

He's kinda an ass to Soonyoung

Cause he broke up with Jihoon

THERES A REASON OKAY DON'T WORRY

And they both pretended to hate each other after that

Before they got back together theres little snippets of their relationship

Its really heart breaking idk how I could stand reading it

BUT ITS REAL SWEET WHEN THEY GOT BACK TOGETHER

Also there was one scene in chapter 28 when Namjoon mentioned mates where he glanced at Seokjin

Idk maybe I'm gonna attract more armys if I mention them

If you're there for Ateez, they are literally so brief

I think they mentioned Monsta X too at some point maybe

Like I wanted to scream at the both of them

WHY ARE THEY BOTH SO IN DENIAL

FRUSTRATION WITH MANY FEELINGS

But also

YOU CAN'T DIE YOU'RE THE MAIN CHARACTER

Not to say I'm okay with the others dying as well

JUST KILL OFF AN OC OR SOMETHING I MAY NOT STAN BTS THAT DOESN'T MEAN I'M OKAY IF YOU KILL THEM OFF

Graphic depictions of violence

But they're kinda brief

Angst, smut, fluff, romance

12/10 I would very much reccomend

JUST FEELINGS JIHOON YOU CAN DO IT ITS NOT THAT HARD

Also I love bottom Jihoon. Something about someone who carries so much power and authority, just to be a completely helpless submissive at the hands of Soonyoung of all people is just something to be desired.

[timextoxhajima]

Playlist Feels

Part 1: Crying In The Club

Member: Juyeon (ft. Hyunjae/changmin????)

Genre: idk man. angst/chill/slice of life/fluff????? irdk 

A/N: this was requested. no, i’m not like, posting/asking openly for requests BUT if you happen to see this, then you’re in luck. the only reason why i haven’t opened for requests is because i don’t have a large pool of followers, so if you like my style of writing and you have faith in me (because i’m not the greatest writer out there), feel free to drop me a dm/ask. i’m currently writing for tbz/nct/ateez/maybe txt idk, if you’re really interested, we can work something out :D

A/N part 2: i’m a very emotional (?) person when it comes to writing (otherwise i’m a stone cold bitch lol), so when i was asked if i could write a part 2 to this juyeon piece, i was quite surprised. the first reason being: i didn’t think the request would be for this particular piece of work for juyeon, because it got like 8 notes at the point of time i got the ask. the second reason is that i wrote the first part for me to release my feelings. whatever i wrote in the first part mirrors my feelings/situation in real life (yeah, i may or may not be worried about an ex-boyfriend stalking me welp, and yeah i may or may not have caught feelings for someone i know who stays in my dorm. unfortunately, it’s only in my imagination that he comes to my rescue, ha.). i just found it very mysterious (?) and strange about all these coincidences and it also made me really happy that people enjoy reading what i write :D

to the person who requested this, i hope you won’t be disappointed!

“what?”  your friend nearly screams in your face. thank god the drinking crowd doesn’t come in until around 10pm, else the whole bar would be looking at the both of you. “like-- the lee juyeon? the one that’s got a fucking billion girls on his tail? and he kissed you?”

you look up over the rim of your spectacles and the edge of your laptop screen, and your friend completely loses it at the sight of your face that was void of emotion.

“the hell’s wrong with you?! didn’t you confess to the man like, a month ago? now, he’s god done kissed you, stayed over in your room when your crazy, psycho ex-boyfriend’s following you, and you have no feelings or opinion to account for that?” 

your eyes were half-hooded from the cider, though not nearly enough to even make you tipsy, it was enough to make your eyelids droop a little lower than if you were wide awake. 

“just because i liked him, doesn’t mean i need to warrant him any more attention. i’m too tired of this stuff anyway, especially with what happened to the relationship with my crazy, psycho ex-boyfriend,” you say with a lack of affection, only looking back to your laptop screen and resuming your furious typing. your friend has her hands on both sides of her face, nearly squishing all her features while she stares wide-eyed at you. 

it felt so long ago that juyeon kissed you for the sake of scaring your stalker away, when it was merely a week ago. since then, you prayed every day not to run into juyeon or your stalker. 

thank god you’ve seen neither. your prayers have been heard. 

“whatever happened with your crazy ex-boyfriend shouldn’t have anything to do with whatever you want to do with your feelings now. are you really going to let him ruin your chances of being with freakin’ lee juyeon?”

“easy for you to say, you weren’t the one being threatened and stalked,” you retorted, not even bothering to look at her. you were lucky your friend knew the whole story, because any other person would’ve shut you down for being so rude and blunt. truth was, she knew you were emotionally exhausted, to the point where you were emotionally unavailable. even if lee juyeon really had a thing for you, it was going to take a lot of effort to encourage you to try building something out of a relationship with one of the school’s most popular boys. 

you hear her sigh before finishing her own bottle of cider. 

“i just want my feelings for juyeon to go away. i don’t want anything to do with the man, not when he’s got so many girls after him, not when i obviously don’t stand a chance at winning him over even if i was interested.”

your friend glares at you, with the words “really?” printed into her forehead. 

“i’m not even gonna bother anymore. you do what you want with juyeon,” you smile at her final announcement to leave the case. you watch with softer eyes, your arms perched on the table and your chin resting on your clasped hands while she packed her stuff. “but mark my words, if it’s anything i know, lee juyeon doesn’t go around kissing people.”

you roll your eyes, pulling away from the table as she picks up her bag. 

“haven’t we established that he only did it because i was being followed--”

“my girl, you don’t get a say in this. you’re too emotionally occupied... or shut down, to see what’s really happening. but from what my cousin tells me, juyeon’s not the kind to offer such intimate acts to people he doesn’t know well. that, you can trust my cousin.” 

you bare your teeth in disgust at her final blow. if she hadn’t reminded you, you would’ve forgotten that changmin, who was part of juyeon’s popular boy clique, was a cousin of hers. 

“i gotta bolt, you have fun and please don’t go back too late. i doubt juyeon’s going to magically appear again at one thirty in the morning to save your ass,” she looks back over her shoulder and raises a brow at you. nodding your head gently, you wave her off.

you mirror your friend’s actions from before and press your hands to the sides of your face, your fingers pressing against your temple. you shut your eyes gently, listening to the soft ‘clink clanks’ from the counter near the kitchen, and the soft shuffle and distant talking from other students in the bar. 

“lee juyeon doesn’t go around kissing people”

you shake yourself out of it, drinking some water before resuming your work on your laptop. whatever your friend said about you being emotionally unavailable was true, but you had no clue how to get over it, and frankly, even if you did know how, it was going to take a lot of courage and a lot of patience.

you work on your stuff for about an hour, making a deal with yourself to head back to your room before midnight while the bar would be at its busiest. you thank the student staff who recognised you from the previous week, pulling out your phone from your pocket and empty-mindedly scrolling through your social media. 

then, someone calls out to you. 

instantly, all the blood rushes from every part of your body and into your chest. that voice... there was no way you were ever going to forget it. 

your grip on your phone gets tighter, and your heart begins to race. your mind screams ‘run’ but your body reacts exactly like how every dumb white girl acts in a horror movie. 

“i was wondering where you’ve been. i didn’t think you’d be back here after... well, last week,” you hear him scoff, and the sound of his shoes against the floor translates into a smaller gap between the two of you. “smart move, i must say. big reverse-psyche move right there.”

your breathing gets heavier, and your eyes were no longer tired from the alcohol. the fact that he was standing right behind you was making you feel trapped, and even though you could’ve taken off in any direction, the memory of what he did completely rendered your ability to move, useless. 

“i don’t want to see you again, please. i stand by what i said last year, i’ll ruin your fucking life if i see you again.”

you take a step forward, but he grabs your arm from behind, harshly pulling you around so you were facing him. 

nothing about him changed. his facial features, his height, his hair might’ve grown a little longer, but the look that you stole your will to love was still in his eyes. you wince as you try to pull away, but he doesn’t budge.

“ruin my life?” he smirks, and it makes you want to slap him across the face. “sure, but not after i ruin yours too.”

you felt your gut twisting like crazy inside of you, and your legs were losing their energy to even let you stand. you wince at his tightening grip on your forearm, and all you wanted to do was to kick him in the nuts, but you just couldn’t move. 

“you’ve already ruined mine...” you quietly inform, remembering the feeling of being completely worthless, completely destroyed by him. “why are you doing this? you’ve already ruined my life, what benefit do you get from it?” 

“oh?” his eyes widen, and a smug look pulls up on his face. “what about that kiss in the lift last week? didn’t he sleep over as well? i was there till four am, and he never left the building. i thought you’ve already moved on.”

you grit your teeth as both anger and fear runs through your blood. 

you open your mouth, ready to hurl a string of vulgarities at him and protest against him being the world’s worst person, but someone beats you to it.

“pretty sure she already did, man.”

the psycho looks up from you and looks over your head, the smug smile completely wiped away and was replaced with a look of despise and anger. 

you shut your eyes tightly, sucking your lips in between your teeth as you tilt your head like you were in pain. 

it was hyunjae’s voice, and there was an almost close to zero possibility that he wasn’t with juyeon.

“mind letting my girl go?” 

there it was.

you frown to yourself at juyeon’s words, still being held in an awkward position while you faced the psycho’s chest, and his eyes still glued to the two boys behind you.

“are you deaf or do you not understand simple instructions?” you finally see hyunjae reach your footing, and hyunjae lays a hand on the psycho’s grip on you. the psycho only lets go because he couldn’t read hyunjae. 

you shift away quickly, rubbing your arm where his grip on you was marked with reddening lines. you back away and bump into juyeon, who only stretched out his arm in front of you, pushing you backwards behind him. 

“did he hurt you?” juyeon turns to the side, only showing you his side profile. 

“no...” you trail off, still rubbing your arm. the lines turn into light bruises, and you can only tell yourself that you were going to wear long-sleeved tops until they healed. 

juyeon turns back to hyunjae, who now had his arm pressed against the psycho’s chest. for a moment, the psycho looked like he was ready to eat you like a lion hunting its prey, and the only things in his way were hyunjae and juyeon. 

“go back to the dorms. i’ll come check up on you afterwards,” juyeon instructs. you watch as he takes large steps towards hyunjae and the psycho. you were already backing off, but his eyes never leave you while juyeon and hyunjae try to talk him out of being crazy.

your view of the psycho was almost completely obstructed by juyeon, and hyunjae was talking to him by his side. all of a sudden, the psycho lunges forward, pushing past juyeon and towards you. the sight causes you to jerk backwards and stumble to turn and run.

hyunjae grabs him by the arm while juyeon’s first instinct was to run back to your side, and before you knew it, juyeon has fingers intertwined with the collar of the psycho’s shirt, his fists balled up and their faces inches away from one another. 

hyunjae watches on from a short distance away, hands on his hips as he scans the situation. 

“does she look like she still belongs to you? does she look like she’s got your name plastered to her forehead? last i checked, i was the one who kissed her and spent the night with her, not you,” juyeon’s voice was low, and strangely calm. you wonder if he’s truly ever lost his temper at anybody. “oh, i forgot. you know, right?”

you were backed up enough to see the look on your stalker’s face, which was now contorted into an ugly mess of distaste, anger and disgust. 

“after all we went through, you take one year to get over it? so quickly?” your stalker scoffs, loud enough for you to hear, loud enough to push all the wrong buttons. 

juyeon shoves him backwards and pushes him so hard that he falls to the floor. before he could get up, juyeon has his foot on his chest, weighing him down. 

“you really need to think twice about what you do around here. not only did you choose to be a crazy, psychotic stalker in a public area, but you just had to choose the one corner with a fully functioning CCTV.”

your stalker, who was on the ground, looks up and around the area, and you could see the intensity of panic that filled him the moment he saw the blinking red dot on the camera mounted to the corner where the ceiling met the wall.  

“and unlike you, i’m not dumb enough to pick a fight with you,” juyeon retracts his legs and exchanged quick glances with hyunjae. “you can wait for your letter of expulsion to come in your letter box wherever you’re staying in school. and you better believe that if i see you anywhere near her, i’ll make sure you spend the rest of your life locked up behind bars.”

hyunjae turns and looks at you, allowing juyeon to finish his statement. he pats him on the shoulder, telling him to leave him alone. after a few moments of intense glaring between the psycho and juyeon, he finally backs away and follows behind hyunjae as they approach you. 

you were back in your room, rocking back and forth with your rear mounted to the floor. hyunjae was on the phone telling the other boys that he and juyeon were sitting out from tonight’s drink session because ‘juyeon wasn’t feeling well’, while juyeon was sitting opposite you, watching you spiral into your own hole of thoughts and despair.

“they’re not gonna buy the excuse, but they let us off the hook,” hyunjae locks his phone and shoves it into his pocket, crossing his arms across his chest. juyeon nods at hyunjae, and the older boy takes his leave. 

he shuffles nearer to you upon the door shutting, his legs on either sides of your hips and his feet under your bed. you were nearly leaning on it, with your knees hugged tightly against your chest. you were stuck between him and your bed, but who even cared anymore?

your vision was zoning out, but you feel him trying to take your arm when he notices the light bruises on your skin. 

“i’m fine,” you muttered sharply, hiding your hand between your stomach and your thighs.

“why do you stay out so late? and alone?” he lowers his head, matching his eye level with yours. “i thought you would’ve learnt your lesson from last week.”

“i didn’t think he was going to circle back and find me at the bar again. i thought he’d scour the whole school looking for me, then give up once he realises i’m hiding from him.”

juyeon pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue and runs a hand through his blue hair. “but he knows where you stay.”

“and i thought he’d back off after seeing us--” you straighten yourself to finish the sentence, frustrated that juyeon was interrogating you and speaking the obvious. but then you realise you couldn’t say it without feeling butterflies in your stomach.

damn these feelings. 

juyeon raises a cocky brow, though not obvious, but it was easy to notice. a soft smile creeps up on the corners of his lips.

“so you were riding on the hope that he’d buy our skit?” juyeon shuffles forward again, now that you were sitting up straight and that movement created extra space between the two of you. you crane your neck backwards, the lack of distance between his nose and your eyes becoming painfully difficult to ignore. 

“i mean...” you look away, annoyed at his ability to turn such a horrible night into one of his little talking games. “if hyunjae or changmin saw it, maybe they’d buy it. i know i would, especially if i didn’t know the situation.”

“changmin?” juyeon was now grinning, his eyes halving into crescents. “all of a sudden, why changmin?”

“i was with a friend earlier tonight at the bar. she’s changmin’s cousin and i know the both of you are close.”

juyeon hums in acknowledgement, now scratching a spot on his cheek. 

there was an awkward silence in the air, and you couldn’t hear much besides your heavy breathing, split second flashes of whatever happened just about half an hour ago still running on repeat in your head. 

“do you want to know something?” 

you look up at him through the corners of your eyes, slightly afraid to look at him all too directly. there was something in his voice that was so alluring, like he was about to tell you a world-class secret.

“do i want to know?” you cautiously returned a question. juyeon chuckles and stretches both his arms forwards, resting his hands on the mattress behind your shoulders. your eyes widen as the change in position further narrows whatever distance you previously had, and if you weren’t already dying at the fact that you were caged between his arms, you were combusting at how close he was to you. 

so close, that you could feel his breath on your forehead.

“changmin and hyunjae would totally buy it.”

huh?

“do you want to know why? or are you capable of deciphering ‘why’ yourself?”

oh, god, no. please, no. 

“if i said no, could you spare me the information?” you ask, still refusing to look at him. juyeon chuckles again. 

time seemed to pass extremely slowly as you fail to react to him removing one of his hands from the bed, now reaching up to your chin and pulling it to face him. 

your heart picks up its pace again, and instead of fear that ran through you previously, you couldn’t ignore the butterflies that were filling your stomach. 

“if you’re about to confess, i’m begging you not to.”

juyeon’s smile disappears, and an overwhelming feeling of vulnerability and pity washes over you. your eyes don’t falter despite looking straight into juyeon’s. your words came out almost like a whisper, and if he wasn’t this close to you, he probably wouldn’t have heard it.

“why?” he asks quietly. 

you feel your eye brow twitch, and your nose turn slightly sour. 

oh, no, why do you choose to cry now?

“i can’t afford another heartbreak. i can’t afford feeling like i’m nothing again. not after i chose to give him my time, my heart... my body. only for him to use it against me, only for him to say that nobody will love me because of how depressed i am all the damn time...” 

you shake your chin out of juyeon’s fingers, looking away as you feel the tears welling up in your eyes again. 

you feel your tears dribble down over your cheeks, and before you could reach up to your face to wipe them away, juyeon beats you to it. but instead of wiping your tears, you found yourself stuck in another kiss.

this time, it wasn’t for show. 

there was nobody else around for him to ‘scare off’. 

you shut your eyes upon the contact, allowing all the cooped up tears to wash out from the crevices of your lids. juyeon has your cheeks cupped in his large hands that were probably the size of your face.

the touch reminds you of when you first kissed your ex-boyfriend. the feeling of melting chocolate fondue, the feeling of coming home to a warm cup of tea on a cold day--

you hurriedly pull away, panic slowly filling your heart again. “juyeon--”

“you begged me not to confess, but i hope that was enough to show you what i wanted to say.” juyeon interrupts, his thumbs now wiping away the droplets of tears hanging from your jawline and the trails left on your cheeks. 

“but i’m never going to be able to act like i’m in a normal relationshi--”

“so be it,” he holds up your face so you had no choice but to look at him. “whoever said i wanted a ‘normal relationship’? it was my choice to choose you, and so it’s my choice to be with you as you are.”

you feel the panic slowly wear away, and his words warm your heart. 

“give me time and i’ll prove that you’re the one i want to be with. i know it’s not easy to believe that with all the... girls chasing us around all the time... but i hope you’ll still give me a chance. one month ago, you told me you didn’t want an answer and all you wanted to do was to get it off your chest and get over me. i hope you haven’t succeeded.”

you feel your facial muscles relax at his confession, and the warmth radiating from his hands on your face made you feel so safe, so protected, in a long, long time. 

“i haven’t,” you gently shake your head, reaching up to pull his hand away from your face and draw circles on the back of his hand. 

juyeon gives you the warmest smile you’ve ever seen on him. he pulls you into his chest as you exhale all the worries from your heart. 

it was definitely going to take a lot of courage and patience, but if juyeon was going to do whatever he said he would, then you couldn’t be any more happier to try. 

[hermionegranger56]

a v late recap of evermore

so i think Taylor Swift sensed that i was Going Through It and was like here you sad bitch, here’s another surprise album to help fix all that. cause good lord evermore is just what i (and i think we all) needed. i truly TRULY can’t believe we’re lucky enough to get a sister album to folklore, i love it so much. the first day it was out i drove myself 2 hours to the very end of the Cape and sat on an empty beach and cried to it and honestly??? magical. here are my thoughts on it that no one asked for:

first, as an overall here, this album complements folklore so well. it’s the spring to folklore��s autumn, it’s self-assured and warm and beautiful. each album shows off her lyrical genius so well and she only grows stronger here. when folklore came out, i was floored because the music was so different for her and so up my alley. each song’s production sucked me in and it was like she was confidently telling us “here is another genre i can work with” (masterfully at that). evermore feels different. it feels like Taylor is so comfortable in this creative space, she isn’t trying to fit into any new molds or expectations, she is just HERE, now, saying “this is who i am and this is my craft”. it’s really been a privilege to watch her grow as an artist. ok. here we go

willow:

god the video was so beautiful, a really good continuation of cardigan. the chorus is so so delicate and prettyyy, thats MY MAN ughhh its so good. it reminds me a lot of invisible string tbh, or if betty from cardigan grew up and found love. this is really one of my favorites, she starts so strong

fave lines: “the more that you say, the less i know/ wherever you stray I follow/ i’m begging for you to take my hand/ wreck my plans, that’s my man”; “life was a willow and it bent right to your wind”

champagne problems:

oh dear god, it’s if all too well and new years day had a baby and it is a MASTERPIECE. i can picture it all, college sweethearts, broken hearts, i feel like its new england at christmas, ivy league old money…its cinematic. and it gets at the feeling like you’ll never be good enough so you leave before that happens (basically before you get to the tolerate it stage??) and OOF. AND GODDAMN THE RANTING BRIDGE (illicit affairs came close on folklore but i think THIS might be the best bridge since All Too Well). I’ve screamed it a lot tbh

fave lines: BRIDGE BABYYYYYY EVERY SINGLE PERFECT WORD. WHAT A SHAME SHES FUCKED IN THE HEADDDD

gold rush:

this one is bright and lovely and catchy!! it reminds me a lot of mirrorball tbh, all like swirly and magical. i can’t even put it into words but i can see this one so clearly. its all rosy and golden

fave lines: “eyes like sinking ships on waters/ so inviting, i almost jump in”; “what must it be like to grow up that beautiful?/with your hair falling into place like dominoes/ I see me padding across your wooden floors/ with my Eagles t-shirt hanging from your door”; “the coastal town we wandered round/ had never seen a love as pure as it”; “my mind turns your life into folklore”

’tis the damn season:

UGH I FUCKING LOVE THIS ONE EVEN THOUGH IT MAKES ME WANNA TEXT MY EX. the melody is SOOOO satisfying, the progression to “write this down”, i’m obsessed. the idea of being home for the holidays and feeling a little lost and tired and nostalgic for what could have been is something superrrr relatable. this song reminds me of snowy drives around my hometown in the best/worst possible way hahah. one of my top 5 for sure.

fave lines: “we could call it even/ you could call me babe for the weekend/ tis the damn season, write this down/i’m staying at my parents house/ and the road not taken looks real good now”; “and wonder about the only soul/ who can tell which smiles i’m faking”

tolerate it:

oh honeyyyyy this track 5 packs a punch, i mean the lyrics are absolutely BRUTAL in the best way. it’s just so sad, and encompasses a lot of my own insecurity about always feeling like you’re more invested in a relationship and watching someone fall out of love or just stop caring. i LOVE the “my love should be celebrated, but you tolerate it”, like bitch YES your love should be celebrated. also taylor sounds angelic on the “I” at the start of the chorus

fave lines: “i know my love should be celebrated/ but you tolerate it”; “i made you my temple, my mural, my sky/ now i’m begging for footnotes in the story of your life”; “what would you do if I/break free and leave us in ruins/ took this dagger in me and removed it”

.

no body, no crime:

YESSSSSSSSS I LOVE THE SUBGENRE OF COUNTRY ABOUT WOMEN KILLING SHITTY HUSBANDS AND THIS SONG IS SO FUCKING GOOD AHHHHH!! I LOVE the beat, i love country taylor, i love the addition of HAIM. UGH ITS SO CATCHYYYY, like i’m obsessed with the slide from “i think he did it but i just. can’t. prove itttttt NOOO no body no crime” UGHHH this is without a doubt in my top five

fave lines: “she thinks i did it but she just can’t prove it”

happiness:

I heard this one described as an emotional marathon and holy shit it is, each line is a sucker punch. i really like how it feels like a conversation and looks at the acceptance and pain that mingle together when a relationship just…ends. her lyrics are unmatched on this album but this is a particularly strong track

fave lines: “i haven’t met the new me yet”; “when did all our lessons start to look like weapons/ pointed at my deepest hurt”; “there is a glorious sunrise/ dappled with the flickers of light/ from the dress i wore at midnight”

dorothea:

this one feels like Betty 2.0 and its so sweet and bright and also kinda sad. it’s wistful!! that’s the word i want, wistful! the vibe is gives off reminds me of Red, like musically. it’s home-y. idk if that makes sense but i like it a lot

fave lines: and if you’re ever tired of being known for who you know/ you know, you’ll always know me”

coney island:

ugh this one is magical, i honestly really love the instrumental to this one, it’s so soothing. the lyrics to me feel like you’re in some dream state, going through every heartbreak you’ve ever been through. I love the addition of The National, the vocals fit together so well (and I like it better than both Bon Iver features i think??)

fave lines: do you miss the rogue/ who coaxed you into paradise and left you there/ will you forgive my soul/ who you’re too wise to trust me and too old to care?”

ivy:

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH (that’s how i feel about this absolute masterpiece oh my GOD) it makes me so incandescently happy, the folk feel, the lyrics that are so cinematic and poetic and paint such a clear picture (to me) of two Victorian lovers who are in unhappy marriages but don’t let that stop their love. the chorus just like….fills my whole chest, the OH GODDAMN hits so different. and i want “my pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand” tattooed on me, that is one of her BEST lines and i will die on that hill. its all so pretty, i can’t deal. the vibe also strongly reminds me of a) invisible string and b) Little Women (2019). i think taylor should do folk and uhhhh only folk please

fave lines: EVERY WORD BUT ESPECIALLY: “i’d meet you where the spirit meets the bone/ in a faith forgotten land”; “oh goddamn/ my pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand/ taking mine, but its been promised to another/ oh, i can’t/ stop you putting roots in my dreamland/ my house of stone, your ivy grows/ and now I’m covered in you”; “he wants what’s only yours”; “clover blooms in the field/ springs breaks loose, time is near“; ”so yeah, it’s a fire/ its a goddamn blaze in the dark and you started it”

cowboy like me:

ALL RIGHT everyone sleeps on this song but oh my GOD its so good!! it’s smooth and dreamy and gives me that old fashioned, bonnie and clyde type love story and some of the lyrics are so poetic. I really love the addition of the Tim McGraw chords too???? BUT DEAR GOD COULD WE HAVE GIVEN MARCUS MUMFORD MORE OF A ROLE HERE??!! HE SOUNDS WONDERFUL, GIVE HIM A FEATURE, GIVE HIM A WHOLE VERSE. THIS IS A FOLK ALBUM TAYLOR, USE FUCKING MUMFORD AHHHH (i fucking love him omg)

fave lines: “dancin’ is a dangerous game”; “you’re a bandit like me/ eyes full of stars”; “now you hang from my lips/ like the Gardens of Babylon/ with your boots beneath my bed/ forever is the sweetest con”

long story short:

A BOP!! GIVE ME SOME HAPPINESS TAYLOR WOO! I really love how catchy this one is. it feels like her introducing the craziness of her life to joe and being like look all of that was tough but here i am now and I couldn’t be happier. It’s refreshing, self-deprecating and endearing. I couldn’t love it more and it is ALWAYS stuck in my head!

fave lines: “and he’s passing by/ rare as the glimmer of a comet in the sky”; “long story short I survived”

marjorie:

ha hahah hah ha this one ENDS me, like dear LORD i need to call my grandma immediately. it is so so GOOD and SAD, like the you don’t know how good something or someone is until they’re gone, but even then, they’re still there with you. I love the grandma wisdom of “never be so clever you forget to be kind” etc. and holy SHIT the addition of Taylor’s grandmother’s opera singing as background vocals is GENIUS AND DEVASTATING, god the part where she goes “i’d think you were singing with me now” and then Marjorie comes in is honestly one of the most beautiful musical moments i’ve heard in a hot minute and it breaks me every time. wow.

fave lines: “never be so polite/ you forget your power/ never wield such power/ you forget to be polite”; “the autumn chill that wakes me up/ you loved the amber sky so much”; “and if i didn’t know better/ i’d think you were singing to me now”

closure:

ok i’m sorry, this is my only skip here. I really do love the lyrics and the idea of, yeah no you don’t deserve closure from me. i just can’t get past the pots and pans beginning, its too chaotic. but i’m sure it’ll grow on me! it does feel like finally moving on and i do love that about it

fave lines: “don’t treat me like/ some situation that needs to be handled”; “i know i’m just a/ wrinkle in your new life/ staying friends would/ iron it out so nice”

evermore:

god her voice is SO soothing in this one, it’s literally hypnotic. the song itself feels wandering and dark at first, like you’re stuck in this depression, and then bon iver comes in and it picks up and it feels like coming out of the trees, into the sunlight and finding your way again. finding that the pain WOULDNT be for evermore like she says. it feels like an ending and a beginning. beautiful

fave lines: “writing letters/ addressed to the fire”; “and when i was shipwrecked/ i thought of you/ in the cracks of light/ i dreamed of you”; “and i was catching my breath/ floors of the cabin creaking under my step/ and i couldn’t be sure/ i had a feeling so peculiar/ this pain wouldn’t be for evermore”

[petalshields]

[ MINA EL HAMMANI, SHE/HER, DEMIGIRL ]  —  [ KAIA DEMIR-ZERHOUNI ]  is a child of  [ DEMETER ]  with the power of  [ FLORAL HEALING & PLANT COMMUNICATION ] .  they were born in  [ 1996 ]  and have been in nemean lion since  [ 2019 ] .  with the change, they  [ ARE TRAINING IN ]  the  [ MEDICAL ]  role which makes sense since they’re usually  [ NOT TALKING AND TENDING TO HER GARDEN IN HER ROOM  ] .  if you’d like to meet them try the  [ SUN ]  building . @nlupdates

hello friends! its ya girl garnet and this is my newest baby. like this and i will not only find u...i will plot WITH u (threat).

Kaia’s pinterest is here!

BIOGRAPHY!

( near drowning tw, death tw )

Mystery shrouds the exact circumstances of Kaia’s birth, but there was no denying that her father was Ilyass Zerhouni. His tryst with Demeter lasted through the winter: a season of mourning for the goddess of harvest. Their romance extinguished in March, timed with the thaw into spring, and Demeter left Ilyass without a trace of her presence in his life. Ilyass did some mourning of his own before, as he always had, continuing his life.

However, Ilyass saw Demeter one final time when she revealed she gave birth to his child. The child was born in November, and she urged him to protect her from supernatural forces, even gods themselves. Demeter knew the pain that came with losing a child.

Ilyass named the baby girl Kaia: Norwegian variant of Kaja, the diminutive form of Greek Katherine. Tracing this history, the name Kaia is intertwined with two meanings: ‘pure’ and ‘tortured.’

Born in sweltering Los Angeles, Kaia wasn’t shielded from her godly heritage. Ilyass called her his ‘miracle baby’ but he didn’t anticipate the degree. There were no parenting books on what to do when his child fell off her bike but flowers sticking out of her gashed knees. This led the man to be overly protective of her, to ensure that she did not draw attention to herself by harming herself or provoking others to harm her. He attempted to round all the sharp corners of Kaia’s life for her own protection, but for the most part, Kaia grew up happy.

Her affinity for plants stemmed from her ability to communicate with them. Their voices weren’t something she could ignore. Trees sang eerie songs as they swayed in the breeze, branches scratching against heaven, and a chorus of grass blades gossiped whenever they were stepped on ( blows kiss to the sky: for rowan ). It made it difficult for her to sleep sometimes, their voices were so constant, but Kaia learned how to tune out the plants and filter their thoughts from her own.

NEAR DROWNING TW: At age seven, Kaia contacted meningitis after being left unattended in the pool by a babysitter. Thankfully, she recovered quickly, but she suffered from moderate hearing loss. This incident only deepened Ilyass’s protectiveness. His later wife, Yaren Demir, was raising a demigod child of her own and shared the desire to shield their daughters. As a blended family, Yaren and Kaia’s new step-sister Sila acclimated to Kaia by learning American Sign Language. Though hearing aids lessen the severity of hearing loss, Kaia prefers ASL to verbal communication. ( note: she has difficulty holding a conversation one-on-one without them, and being in a crowd with them causes her a lot of anxiety. )

Adolescence was, for lack of a better word, an adjustment. Kaia prided herself on being mysterious, well-behaved, and reserved, but she began to push against the concrete boundaries set by her parents. Specifically, her competitive nature drew her to sports, which her parents staunchly disapproved of. The more Kaia wanted to expand, the more that her parents increased their restrictions. She took matters into her own hands when she was seventeen. Enticed by promises made by her then-boyfriend, Kaia ran away with him.

What could go wrong? Kaia’s not naïve; she knew that being bested by your emotions was never the correct move, but he was her first love and that love was the poison she’d inject into herself, over and over. There were red flags that the relationship wasn’t the healthiest, but, like any romantic, she ignored them all. Until it almost killed her 🤪

DEATH TW/CAR ACCIDENT TW: Almost is the key word. If she were mortal, she would have died. The boyfriend was drinking and driving, and he swerved off the road while Kaia tried to coax him into letting her drive. She doesn’t remember much of what followed. Blinding white, the sound of her voice shrill as she screamed for him to help her. The slam of the car door as he crawled out from the wreckage, a black figure bleeding into the night. The tree whispering, life, life, life, as flowers broke out of the gashes, blooming along the split skin. After fading in and out of consciousness, Kaia healed enough to gain strength to crawl out of the vehicle’s skeleton and stumbled through the surrounding woods.

Too ashamed to return home, Kaia found solace in an abandoned greenhouse. As a token from her mother, goddess of harvest after all, Kaia was fed throughout her time “missing,” surrounded by plentiful edible plants that yearned for her to eat them. She grew used to her own solitude, the simplicity of her life in the woods, but her own call out to reconnect with her sister caused her to punch her number into her phone. Soon enough, Sila found Kaia and convinced her to accompany her to a strange place she’s only heard about in passing: NEMEAN LION.

Kaia’s been on campus for two years, and the constant chatter and people and all else that comes with their godly heritage are thoroughly tolerated; she is still the prideful girl she once was, but her trauma caused her to have heightened suspicions of those around her, and she’s now more difficult to get close to. Beneath her new armor, there’s still a soft core, most evident when she’s volunteering at the infirmary or trailing behind her sister or smiling at a plant ( weird vibes but ok ). 

WANTED CONNECTIONS!

FRIENDS/A BEST FRIEND: PLEASE SOMEONE GET THIS BITCH SOME MILK!! Or rather the ability to build an attachment to someone that’s not her sister.

ENEMIES: Kaia may not express it all the time, but she does hold grudges and she’s very spiteful. I think this would be interesting because this is a bit of a shadow-self that she never got to explore in her youth, but she’s more willing to lean into it now because, in her mind, everyone sucks and should not be trusted. We can develop in the DMs!

PEOPLE WHO HELPED HER WHILE SHE LIVED IN THE GREENHOUSE: in my mind? while she was "missing” there was a little gaggle of people who brought her essentials in exchange for her helping them out somehow. Maybe she was their healer, or maybe she posed as a distraction for them to do some shady shit. either way, this relationship was mutually beneficial!

OPPOSITES ATTRACT: throw her your sunshine-y muses but she can be a little finicky so this may be a bit hit or miss SKJSKFJ. However I think that it’d be cool to have a muse who doesn’t flinch from her intensity sometimes, or bounces off of it. idk fam i just think it’d be Neat.

INJURED/HEALER: Someone who she always treats at the infirmary? I imagine that she’s gotten a hold of her powers enough that she’s able to heal others on command. She will always cluck her tongue and shake her head and, if they’re close enough, try to talk to this person. This takes a lot of ironing out because it really depends on where their relationship stands but we can make this work

DEMETER SIBLINGS: Kaia feels very much indebted to her mother for keeping her alive while she was in the greenhouse, so! She has a soft spot for all the Demeter siblings because she views them as being all a part of her, in some way, so throw her more family!

COMBAT BUDDIES: ( kaia 2 me: buddies is a strong wor- ) no but her having people to train with. Kaia isn’t about killing people ( unless you’re her ex boyfriend ahahaha that’s to unpack later ) but ! she is about learning to protect herself and wanting to do so with the utmost competency. Therefore she throws herself into combat training, and it’s a way for her to work out a lot of the pent up aggression that she has from not processing a lot of the things that have happened to her.

HOOKUPS: absolutely no strings. With the exception of Taylor, Kaia isn’t the relationship type I’m afraid and isn’t emotionally available, but she still has needs!

OTHER TREE HUGGERS: pretty explanatory, stole this from rowan. A friend of trees is a friend to Kaia.

ANYTHING! LET’S MF GO I’m really down for also filling yr plot needs! 

[foreverthesickestkidz]

I’ll put a summary here L8er

One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten

warnings: cursing, murder, torture, mentions the words domestic abuse & rape

masterlist | guidelines | lullaby m.list

August was an unusually stressful month for you, given your circumstances. Moving away from home, back to Eclipse University, into your small, lonesome apartment was not all that exciting. Starting your last year of law school wasn’t exciting either. A new year meant two new semesters full of tough courses, a paid internship, and the dreaded Bar exam at the end of it all. Stress was eating at you all summer as you tried to prepare yourself for this last year of schooling before fully entering the real world. The one thing you always looked forward to when coming back to this little college town though, was seeing Bambam.

“Y/n! Long time, no see!” Bambam, your beloved best friend, practically screamed the second he laid eyes on you entering his department store.

You giggled, accepting the bear hug he was pulling you into. “Hey B, I missed you so much!” As you pulled away you noticed him look you up and down and shake his head.

“Damn, girl. Did you get hit by a bus this summer? You look like hell,” he raised an eyebrow. You lightly smacked his shoulder and laughed.

“No! It’s just been really stressful lately. And I literally just moved all my stuff back into my apartment, okay!”

Bambam noticed another customer enter the store then, looking over your shoulder rather than at you.

“I wasn’t too sure if you’d be here actually, B. I was gonna call and make sure before I walked all the way here, but I decided to make it a surprise,” You explained, moving to the side so he could walk past, following close behind.

Bambam never let an opportunity to make a customer glamourous pass, not even for his best friend he hasn’t seen in months.

“Oh yeah, I just got back actually. I hosted a fashion show in Milan last week, but I’ll be here for another month maybe,” He explained as he reached the young lady browsing the racks of his expensive, well designed blouses. He turned away from you to greet her, so you decided to leave him be, and just call after he closed the shop for the day. After giving a small wave to Bambam as you walked out the shop, mouthing a ‘I’ll call around 7’ as to not interrupt the client, you wandered back into the streets of Eclipse. The August sun was strong, and you noted the nice weather as you passed by the other shops and restaurants of Downtown. Bambam’s shop was only about a fifteen minute walk from your apartment, but in the heat, it seemed like ages. So, you decided to stop at a little ice cream parlor before heading all the way back into campus.

Kim’s Ice Cream was practically empty. Upon walking in you noticed two things immediately, the first was that they didn’t serve chocolate ice cream, the second was the only other customer present in the building. He sat in the corner with a half melted milkshake in front of him, watching something intently out the window. So, curiosity got the best of you and after settling for the next best ice cream flavor (second to chocolate), you wandered over to his table.

He seemed to notice you immediately, which wasn’t that abnormal since you were the only other customer there. But, he looked up and cocked his head to the side, almost like a questioning puppy.

Smiling, you greeted him, “Hey, is this seat taken?”

He furrowed his eyebrows, and shook his head. “No, no. Please,” He motioned towards the empty seat across from him, and finally returned the smile.

“I’m Y/n. I just happened to notice you watching something outside,” you nervously laughed, “Curiosity sort of urged me over here to ask what it was.” Upon finishing your sentence, you ate a spoonful of ice cream. He looked up and made complete eye contact with you for the first time. His eyes were full of focus, and deep with thought.

With a lazy grin he licked his lips and answered. “Curiosity killed the cat, you know.”

With a nod and a soft smile you quickly replied “But the cat knew the truth.”

He raised an eyebrow and shook his head with a laugh. “I was watching the birds. I’ve always found them so intriguing,” He glanced outside once again, and looked back with a darker twist in his large pupils. You always noticed the smallest things about people, and the eyes ahead of you were certainly the eyes of someone hurting.

“I’m Mark” he stuck his hand out for you to shake. Calloused fingers and bruised knuckles engulfed your smaller hand.

****

Several hours after the introduction, you found yourself laying in bed wide awake. While finishing unpacking you grew tired, but somehow you can’t seem to fall asleep.

With a frustrated sigh, you reached to the nightstand to pick up your phone and check the time. Seeing 4 unread texts from Bambam, you decided to read and respond, it wasn’t like you were going to get any sleep anyway.

-Sorry you had to leave earlier I had to glam that bitch

-Hey idk if youve seen the news but theres some scary shit happening in eclipse rn, you should be careful ok?

-? y/n

-Y/N!!!

You shook your head and rubbed your eyes. The last text was only sent five minutes ago, maybe Bambam was still awake. You decided to turn the news on before calling him.

“Residents of Eclipse please be extra cautious! Breaking News reports a string of murders throughout the town, focused around Eclipse University’s campus. We’re reminding all citizens to lock your doors, and remain calm. We all need to stick together at this time.”

Your eyes grew wide as you flung the blanket from your form and ran to your front door. Locking the deadbolt, you immediately FaceTimed Bambam.

���Bambam! What the hell is happening?” You almost yelled through the phone.

“Shh shh, calm down. It’s okay, you’re okay,” he comforted you with a soft tone. Bambam always knew when your anxiety flared up, and stayed gentle with you to help you calm down. He stayed on the phone until he knew you were alright.

“Just remember to be careful, y/n.” He whispered after a while, and you finally managed to fall asleep.

Bambam huffed as he hung up the phone. The truth was that he was terrified. He knew he would be alright, he owned a few guns and he was away from Eclipse for weeks at a time anyway. But, he also knew you didn’t live the same life as him. You didn’t own any weapons, you were stuck here, and you trusted far too easily. The murders sent shivers down Bambam’s spine and his head started to ache at the thought of his best friend in danger. Worried hands typed vigorously on his phone as he dialed the phone number of the one person he hated most. He knew that despite his hatred, this person would be the only one close enough to you that Bambam trusted to ensure your safety when he left.

“Bambam? What the fuck do you want? It’s three in the fucking morn-“ Jackson’s voice was husky and rough after being awoken.

“Shut the fuck up and listen.” Bambam was already annoyed with the boy on the other line.

Jackson scoffed and rolled his eyes, despite Bambam not being able to see.

“Have you seen the news?” Bambam ran a hand through his hair and walked out onto the balcony.

“Yeah, if you’re calling to accuse me of any shit I won’t hesitate to block you.” Jackson’s defensive tone was enough to piss Bambam off.

“I’m not accusing you of anything. You might think you’re tough shit but you’re no killer. I’m calling about y/n”

Jackson’s ears perked up at hearing your name.

“Y/n? What about her? Is she okay?” His voice suddenly grew softer.

“She’s fine. But, I’m worried about her. You know how she is, and I’m not sure how I can make sure she’s safe when I leave Eclipse,” Bambam sighed. “That’s why I called. Me, you and Yugyeom don’t get along, but I know you both care for her as much as I do.” A slight breeze caused him to shiver.

Bambam heard rustling on the other end of the line.

Jackson pulled his shirt on and tied his shoelaces.

“When are you leaving?”

Bambam looked out over the silent town, and shook his head to himself.

“Soon,”

Jackson grabbed his keys and reached for the doorknob.

“She’s in good hands, Bambam.”

The line went dead as Bambam leaned his head back, eyes closing.

“She damn well better be. She’s all I’ve got in this world.” He whispered softly to the wind.

Jackson pulled the door of his Corvette open and slipped inside. The curfew didn’t let up for another hour, but he needed to see Yugyeom. His best friend needed to know what Bambam called about, and he wasn’t sure how Yugyeom would react to the prospect of seeing you again. Shifting gears, he sped away in the direction of Downtown.

Yugyeom opted to move to Eclipse permanently after his first semester of law school. His home life wasn’t ideal, and he was happier here than there. His little house on the corner of Main Street and Downtown boulevard was perfect for him. He was in a deep sleep when he awoke to the sound of constant banging on his door. Groaning and reaching for the 9mm pistol in his nightstand, he pushed himself up and rubbed his eyes. He opened the front door to be met with the worried eyes of his best friend.

“Fucking hell, bro. I thought you were a murderer or something!” Yugyeom furrowed his eyebrows as he let Jackson in.

“Funny you mention that…” Jackson rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “I just got off the phone with Bambam.”

***

Mark held the printed photograph up next to the sorry male in front of him. The picture matched the guy perfectly, and with a dark chuckle he licked his lips.

“I knew I’d find you.”

The man roughly jerked against the belt that secured him to the chair. Flailing helplessly to try to break away, screaming into the duct tape secured on his mouth.

“Stop trying to break away. Nobody will help you.” Mark cocked his head to the side, grinning at his prey. The man’s muffled screams began again. Mark pulled up a chair and sat in front of him. The only light came from an exposed lightbulb hanging from the ceiling above them. The lighting created a halo above the bloodied man. How ironic.

“I have some questions for you, before I have some fun, so you just nod or shake your head in response. And if you lie, you’re gonna regret it.” He held up a knife in one hand, and a gun in the other.

“This is how this is gonna work, I’m going to ask a question, you will truthfully answer me. If you cooperate, I’ll use this,” he held up the gun, pulling the slide back, “if you don’t cooperate, I’ll use this,” he held the knife up again, skillfully spinning them through his fingers. The man’s eyes widened in fear.

Mark’s eyes gleamed with excitement.

“First question! Have you ever seen this girl?” He held up another printed photo of a smiling young woman. The man vigorously shook his head.

“You fucking LIAR!” Mark screamed the last word. He rolled his eyes and stood from his chair.

“You lied straight away! Nobody ever lies from the first question!” He laughed out, and ripped the duct tape from the man’s mouth.

“Now, count backwards from 100 in sets of 3,” Mark pressed the knife against the bottom of the man’s pinky finger.

“Fucking count!” Mark screamed in his face. He began counting as Mark sawed away at his fingers. Blood dripped down the armrest of the chair and onto the rotting carpet. Mark was in euphoria. The red color was glittering under the harsh lighting and the smell made his grin a little wider.

Many hours into Mark’s fun he grew bored and decided it was time for judgement. The man was on the very brink of passing out anyway, and the smell of blood started to give Mark a headache.

“Alright, man. I’m done.” Mark huffed out. The man looked almost relieved. ”I hereby render you guilty of domestic abuse, and the rape of Yang Jimin. I sentence you to death.” Mark smirked at the man’s appearance, and inability to speak after having his tongue ripped out. He untied the man and laid him out on the floor. He began softly singing, “Lay thee down now and rest, may thy slumber be blessed lay thee down now and rest, may thy slumber be blessed,” he pulled the gun from his pocket and pressed the barrel to the man’s forehead. “Lullaby and goodnight, thy mother's delight, bright angels beside my darling abide,” He pulled the trigger, blood splattering over his face and clothes. Humming the song again, he brought the knife to the dead man’s stomach. After etching the word “goodnight” in scratchy rough lettering, Mark shook his head.

“Justice is served,” he chuckled and pulled matches from his pocket. Picking up the gasoline in the corner, he walked around the tiny raggedy house, lighting his cigarette with a match before pitching it behind him, walking away and disappearing into the night.

***

Morning light drifted through your blinds when your alarm rang. You blinked your eyes open and yawned before turning the annoying noise off. Stretching, you got up and got ready for the day. You only had one class, but after you had to report to your first day of interning with Eclipse’s best attorney, Lee Kwang, who also happened to be your professor. Upon walking to your car, you never expected to see the familiar black Jeep parked next to your little blue Corolla.

“Kim Yugyeom. It’s been a while,” you smiled halfheartedly to the owner of said Jeep.

“We need to talk.” He seemed on edge, but you figured it was because the last night you spoke in person was a night everyone involved wished to forget.

You unlocked your car and opened the back door, dropping your backpack in the seat. “There’s not much to talk about.” You looked anywhere but at him.

“I talked to Bambam last night,” he leaned his back against the door, arms crossed.

The realization hit you a second later.

“No. Absolutely not. I don’t need anyone’s protection. I’m a grown woman.” You seethed at the thought that these boys saw you as someone so weak.

“It’s not about that, y/n. We just care about you,” he tried to reason with you.

“Who cares about me? Because you and Jackson are the last people who act like they care about me.” You shook your head to stop tears from falling. Slipping into your car, you pulled away from the parking lot.

***

Mark’s eyes met yours the second you walked into the law firm. He waved and smiled as you walked towards him.

“Hey! I never thought I’d see you here!” You beamed at the boy you met yesterday.

“Yeah, small world. I was just on my way out, but before I go, I just, I forgot to ask back at the ice cream shop,” he blushed a little and scratched the back of his head. “Can I maybe, get your number?”

Your face flushed red, yet you smiled widely.

“Yeah! Of course!” You reached for a pen and scribbled numbers onto a sticky note.

“Thanks, I’ll call you later!” He smiled as he walked away.

You took a deep breath and knocked on Professor Lee’s door, not noticing the way Mark looked back at you as he left the building.

[frostbytetherebel]

Obey Me! Brothers as songs from BLACKPINK’S ‘The Album’

I’ve been listening to the album on loop since its release. All the songs SLAPS. Eventually I came up with this so yeah let’s get started. 

(All English lyrics are taken from genius.com)

Lucifer: How You Like That 

This one is pretty obvious. 

First single from the album, first track, multiple records hit upon its release - idk sounds pretty much like “the mighty first-born” to me 

The song is basically about escaping a toxic relationship. You know who else has a toxic relationship? That’s right, Mr. Godly Daddy Issues. He literally started a war against his dad.

“Again in such a dark place, light up the sky” & “In such a darker place, shine like the stars” is literally the Morningstar himself in Devildom and no one can change my mind on this. Fact. 

Pridey McPrideface moment: “Look at you, now look at me”

There’s this line in the lyrics: “The day I went down with my wings lost/ Those dark days when I was trapped”, which I think fully represents his fall from heaven. Also queen Roseanne Park NAILED this scene in the MV: 

Yep. That’s the fall of an Archangel for me. 

Mammon: You Never Know 

Tbh I’ve had a hard time deciding on Mammon’s song. 

But then these lyrics hit me: “The words that everyone said so easily/ Maybe you can hear it soon/ I've heard enough I've heard enough/ Of the things that I'm not”

Mammon is constantly harassed by his brothers for being stupid. Sure, he might lack common sense, but it doesn’t give the brothers the full authority to shame him like that. 

“But you'll never know unless you walk in my shoеs/ You'll never know, my tangled strings/ 'Causе everybody sees what they wanna see/ It's easier to judge me than to believe” That’s our classic misunderstood tsundere right there. 

He’s probably the one who’s gonna stick with MC until the very end (y’all know how clingy he can be). “Even if the whole world changes/ I'm still the same”

Also remember during the Lamp event, he was the first one to say that he’d rather be with MC instead of ruling the world? Yeah, the line hits right there. 

At the same time, his feelings for MC? Y O U N E V E R K N O W

(But everyone does eventually) 

Leviathan: Love To Hate Me

“Kinda sad that you always been like that/ See me making waves and you don't like that” Levi usually gets emotional because of mangas/animes/video games (and I wouldn’t be surprised if he would actually flood the House Of Lamentation). And how many times do we see the brothers complain about that throughout the storyline? Countless. 

“Only thing I think about is big stacks” except the stacks are Ruri-chan goods. 

Notice how Levi is the one who gets involved in family drama the least (unless his video games are the direct cause for them)? Sounds a lot like “I keep it light/ No, no, no drama in my life”. 

Classic introvert line: “I need you? Nah, I been good lately/ Blowin' up, workin' busy” because who the fuck needs people when you can binge watch animes and blow shits up in video games all day? 

Poor boy keeps chasing Mammon because of the debt. “I'm takin' back what you've taken from me” yeah you go boy.  

Satan: Pretty Savage. 

The song title speaks for itself. 

Satan is definitely a pretty boy (fight me, I dare you). He shows off a friendly smile way too often that people sometimes forget that he’s the Avatar Of Wrath. 

And yeah, he can be pretty savage. 

He HATES being compared to Lucifer. “It seems similar, but we are different from the core”. He loathes it even more if people start calling him by his bRoThEr’s name. “If you get our name wrong, ddu-du-ddu-du hit” aka prepare for the wrath of kitty boyo.

Did I mention how he loves messing up Lucifer’s life? That’s exactly what “Yeah, we some bitches you can't manage/ I make this difficult thing again” means. 

When he gets angry, well “You better run, run, run”. 

This whole song just fits him perfectly. 

Well, except for the “I wore something similar to you, but it looks better on me” part because this man has absolutely no fashion sense. 

Asmodeus: Bet You Wanna

“MC I know you want meeeeee” 

Horny song for a horny demon boyo. 

Asmodeus is beautiful and he knows it. He’s undeniably the most confident demon in Devildom. He knows his looks are on another level. “Uh, I'm gonna make you go blind/ Every time I walk, my hips, they don't lie”

He’s also a party animal full of energy. Anywhere he goes, he’s gonna make sure all eyes are on him. “You wanna run with my love, I know you wanna/ From the club to the tub, you said you wanna/ Give me an all night hug, I bet you wanna”

And of course, the song screams his signature trait: his lust. “Let's do what we both desire/ On God, like I'm in the choir/ I bet you if you make me sweat, I'll still be on fire” Yeah mister, thank you for announcing your desire to have such intense sex that you’ll moan like a whole choir. Totally useful information. 

Also imagine Asmo singing along to this with Cardi B. 

The S A S S tho. 

Beelzebub: Ice Cream 

Another obvious one. 

“Wow, a food-themed song! Totally fits the Avatar Of Gluttony perfectly!” 

That’s what you think, right? Well, there’s actually more to that. 

At first glance, we all think that Ice Cream is just another summer song with cheerful and light-hearted beats, right? But haha SIKE BITCH it’s actually a horny song. 

It’s even more horny than Bet You Wanna. See the lyrics for yourself. 

And Beel, he may appear as a totally friendly demon who craves food 24/7 at first. 

But as we go deeper into the storyline, we realise that he’s actually not nice and naive like we thought. 

His personality has darker aspects (aka depressing memories) along with a needy side. 

How many times were MC asked to feed him (and then given the option to have a passionate kiss with him) during the storyline? Idk, I lost count already. 

Also I’m sure that 80% of this fandom wouldn’t mind being a hoe for him. 

Belphegor: Crazy For You 

(SPOILERS FOR LESSON 16)

Oh boy, here comes the yandere vibes. 

Belphie’s love is extremely obsessive. “If you're my (hu)man, I want you to myself”. 

When he was trapped in the attic, he knew he needed a plan to get out. And he knew that plan would eventually trigger Lucifer so much. But he proceeded anyway and approached MC first, because all he needed then was their attention. “I know I'll have enemies long as you're into me/ But I don't care 'cause I got what I need”

Being the natural cunning demon he is, he knows how to manipulate MC into helping him. “I saw you/ And knew what I was trying to do/ I had to play it rеal, real smooth/ And once I finally made my move/ I went crazy over you”

Remember what he did to MC after lesson 16? Cow boyo began pining to us like crazy. That part was so smooth I almost forgot he choked us to death. (Admit it, some of you actually forgot about it.) 

Like Jennie sang, “Feels wrong but it's right, right?”

[rynhaswritersblock]

tiktok famous (hc) - part two | p.p.

summary: a whole bunch of dif tiktoks featuring you and bae peter

warnings: chaotic energy, cussing, and BUTTERFLIES

+ + +

- i'm backkkkkkkkk

- so y'all really enjoyed the last tiktok imagine

- and you wanted another

- SO HERE WE GO BABYYYYYYYYY!!

- so basically....

- (just enjoy it)

- i got a lot of tiktok related comments and requests and i hope i remember them all

- (big boobs? whew chile) ANYWAYS SO:

- like pretty much none of them link together so this hc is going to be split into sections of like... blurbs!!

- yayayayayaya

- this one is inspired by @drecming

- so i think most of us know this very special sound..

- ...

- CAN'T TAKE BIG DICK BUT I SUCK ON IT

- y eah

- so as per usual

- you and peter b chillin

- they really do b vibin doe

- OH BY THE WAY

- y'all are dating in this situation :)))))))))

- and as you're binge watching your favorite show you can't stop doing the hand motions to that friggin dance

- aka the epidemic of generation z

- i keep doing the sugar by brockhampton dance i literally can't stop it's fine

- and thank god peter somehow doesn't notice

- like your movements are so subtle but you deadass keep doing it like once per minute

- and so you get up

- like "fuck this, man. if it's stuck in my head i'm at least gonna make a tiktok"

- and so you set it up

- peter's still on the couch in the background

- this boy STILL doesn't really notice what you're doing

- to be fair hsmtmts is a very enticing show ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

- but as soon as the audio plays peter recognizes it

- his head WHIPS over to you

can't take big dick but i suck on it

- he raises an eyebrow at you

i ain't fucking with the pussy, got a bump on it

- *eyebrow raise intensifies*

bad bitch put the pussy on me (on me)

- he sits up, watching as your hips roll (oh man)

whip out my dick then i hump on it

- he slightly cringes at the lyrics me too peter

i'm a bad ass bitch, what you lookin at?

- your butt

ima throw that-

- "oH NO YOU DON'T!" he yells, slight smile on his face as he swiftly shoots a web at you, the string wrapping around your waist and spinning you to him

- the song continues to play as you snort, wheezing as he balances you

- the video finishes and you raise your eyebrows at him

- "no throwing it back on camera," he says pointedly

- you tilt your head in a way that screams peter i love you but you and i both know that i can do what i wanna do and over-protectiveness can be toxic

- he sighs

- "okay, you can, but i'd like it better if it were just for me"

...

- HAHAHAHA

- okay NEXT ONE

- this next one is inspired by @ritxal

- in this one you can choose your relationship

- so peter is a natural born softboy

- he didn't choose the softboy life, the softboy life chose him

- but here's the thing

- it was friday night

- you were bored

- and you decided

- it was time for a change

- and so you approached the man

- who happened to be upside down

- because when is he not

- and, ignoring his protests, gave him an e-boy makeover

- poor peter was decked the fuck out

- striped long sleeve

- band tee

- black ripped jeans wITH THE CHAIN

- nike socks and af1s

- beanie

- and most importantly

- black nails and a little black heart under his left eye

- just picture it p lease

- and it his transformation was posted on your account to forever embarrass him

- and you lowkey found this look a lil wee bit ATTRACTIVE

- whatever

- okey this one's for you @lilmissquackson !!!!!!!

- y'all ever seen the without me (halsey) ones??

- ye

- even if you haven't you'll still get it lol

- so you're in class

- learning about sokovia because history and shit

- and, bored as hecc, you decide to whip out your phone and copy this video you'd seen

- you begin filming and place your right hand on top of peter's left (yay classmates!! sitting next to each other WHOOP!)

- his gaze is hard on his paper as he continues to scribble down notes

- you turn the camera to him for a bit and you're like yes perfect

- and then you return the camera and pull your hand away

- and he REACHES OVER AND TAKES YOUR HAND BACK

- AND YOU'RE LIKE  Y E S

- IT WORKED OUT

- PLUS HE DIDN'T EVEN KNOW AND HE'S SO CUTE

- you put the phone down, smiling, adjusting your hand a little before you realize you can't take notes anymore because your hand is occupied and using your left hand just aint it period (a/n: im so sorry if any of y'all are left handed lol but pretend y'all are in opposite positions so he has your left hand haha)

- and it's then that he looks at you

- and if his eyes don't make you MELT

- okay i'm sorry that last one was mediocre but you get the point

- alright so like in this process of writing this i've been struggling a bit with details and stuff and making it sound good and funny so they're gonna be short and sweet bc i literally don't know What To Do :)))))))))))))))))

- back to your regularly scheduled programming hell yeah

- this one's for you, @drecming

- back at it again with the ideas!!!! fuck yes!!!

- okay SO

- you seen those "i'm on my savage shit" ones?

- where the guys hand is on the girl's thigh (OR IF YOU'RE A DUDE READING THIS JUST STILL IMAGINE YOUR OWN LEG I TRY TO KEEP THIS GENDER NEUTRAL BUT I FORGET AND PLUS RN IM JUST EXPLAINING THE TIKTOK KJSDBVIBUV) and then she pulls her leg away and the music is like

iM oN mY sAvAgE sHiT

- anyways

- peter's hand is just vibing on your leg

- for you dirty minded folks no it's not vibrating or doing all that janky shit we're children of god here

- says the one who just said the s word OOPS

- and you, as per usual, pull up the sound and start recording

- peter hears the music and is like Huh????

- and then you pull your leg away, grinning at him cheekily before he grabs you, phone flying out of your hand and he pulls you into his lap

"my thigh"

- you give him a look like excuse me sir hUh

- and his face is just like

0_0

- before he smiles at you and laughs and says he's kidding

- but then he stops laughing

...

- and raises an eyebrow

- WOAHHHHHHHH SPICY

- zooooweeeeemamaaaaaaa

- aight moving on

- THE NEXT ONES ARE INSPIRED BY YOURS TRULY!! YAY ME FOR HAVING IDEAS FOR ONCE IN MY LIFE!!!!

- so i'm sure you and like everyone @ your school (if you're in school.. lol) is familiar with this one

- i'm just gonna let y'all experience it idk why i've been telling the tiktok before idek sajbsidvb

- so you're in class right

- doing nothing bc your teacher sucks :////

- but its fine bc it's a fun class

- so you set up your phone with you and peter in the screen and start recording

- peter looks at the phone and then you, confused

"hey, stop!" you say in a whiny voice

- mans is like Uhhhhh what did i Do

"stop! omg peter sTop!" you're smiling at him

- he's so confused

- and then as you're talking

- your voice suddenly lowers into your lower register

"stop!! peter stop it- I SAID STOP."

- his eyes widen and a confused smile is on his face as he jumps back slightly

"YOU KEEP PLAYING *smacks your hand on the table* TOO DAMN MUCH."

- the video stops and you and peter are just silent for a second before busting out laughing

"you've never seen those?"

"no????"

"god peter, you live under a rock"

- the duck walked up to the lemonade stand and he said to the man running the stand: hey! bonk bonk bonk got any grapes?

- sorry i randomly thought of that

- okay NEXT

- this is the one that hits different

- gets you in your FEELS

- DAMN

- we all know peter's a gamerboy

- so he's just chilling playing minecraft on the xbox or something

- what a fuckin nerd

- jk minecraft slaps so hard

- anyways

- as per usual, you set up the camera and start filming

- and you

- i think you know what i'm talkin about

- you slip underneath his arms

- and start crawling into his lap

- and the SECOND he registers what's going on he fucking YEETS the controller behind him and wraps his arms around you

- and when i say yeets

- i mean like

- ZOOM

- you bury your arm in the crook of his neck and you feel him physically relax under you (heartbeat racing though of course) and hold you tighter, planting gentle kisses along your neck and shoulder

- ..

- god FUCK talk about B U T T E R F L I E S

- y'all are going to HATE ME for this one

- prepare yourselves

- so you guys are just chilling in peters room as y'all normally do

- and peter goes to the bathroom

- and like stupid adorable fuck he is

- mans left his phone on silly goose

- and of course

- we all know you can't help yourself

- so like a NORMAL HUMAN BEING

- you decide to snatch it and go look at his tiktok drafts, god knows why

- and the first one you tap

- WHEW CHILE

- your jaw drops to the floor as soon as you read the text on the video

"so apparently when a guy's chain dangles it's attractive..?"

- heart skips a beat

- hands are sweaty

- knees spaghetti

- you look up to make sure the bathroom door is still shut before you whip out your phone and start videoing

- peter is looking nervously cute into the camera before he leans out of shot,

- you know what's next

- and right as the beat drops

- he shows up, SHIRTLESS, with his cross necklace (you've only seen him wear once lmao) dangling down

- not to mention the goddamn CURLS hanging down

- and your heartbeat quickens

- ... both heartbeats...

- then fucking PETER JUST STROLLS INTO THE ROOM

- ALL INNOCENT N SHIT AS IF HE DIDN'T HAVE A VIDEO ON HIS PHONE THAT LITERALLY MADE YOU READY TO RISK IT ALL

- "why do you have my phone?"

- you've never slammed it onto the bed so fast

- "no reason"

- he raises a suspicious eyebrow before picking up his phone and unlocking it

- and the fear in his eyes when the screen opens to his video

- he looks back up at you, mouth slightly open in fear/awe/ohshitohgodohFUCK

- and you and your goddamn mouth-

- "peter, it's hot"

- and oh how the look in his eyes changed

😈

+ + +

until next time <3