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from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras · 5 months ago

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It’s the Last Wídfara Wednesday! Time to get all weepy for Guthláf!

The 8th and final part of the story, in which Guthláf meets his destiny at the Pelennor Fields and Wíd has to learn how to live all over again. This feels obvious, of course, but just to be absolutely clear with everyone – Canonical Character Death ahead! The loss of Guthláf is obviously tragic, but I did work really hard to make this story not end on a bleak note. I’m proud of it and I hope it works for you! I’m so, so grateful for those who have followed along, stuck with it and given me very kind feedback. You’re the absolute best!

Prior parts can be found here (1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7) or all on AO3.

The next days passed for Wídfara both slowly and quickly. There were endless hours of riding – from the muster at Dunharrow to the beacon hill at Min-Rimmon, through the narrow, forested paths of the Stonewain Valley – and there were long, tense nights camped quietly in tight places where little sleep was to be found. And yet, he had only to feel the bruises still wrapped around his own throat to be reminded that they had left Helm’s Deep behind just days ago. To find themselves now deep into Gondor and in a state of readiness for another, even bigger battle after so short a time was a substantial and difficult achievement.

Still, the journey hadn’t been entirely unpleasant. Guthláf’s melancholy at Dunharrow had fully retreated, and he was his usual easy self. He chatted happily as they rode, anticipating the familiarity of an open battlefield and the excitement of representing not just his éored but his king and country on what was undoubtedly going to be the biggest stage he had ever fought on. Wídfara got his own boost when Déorwine promoted him to chief bowman of the éored, filling the role after Arengan had been left in the Westfold to recover from serious injuries at the Hornburg. Wídfara would have given the promotion back in an instant to heal Arengan, but he still felt pride to have been chosen and wondered what his parents would say to know that their son had risen from a scrappy little boy guarding herds in the rural desolation of the Wold to the top archer of the king’s own éored.

He and Guthláf rode together near the front of the company, separated only briefly when Wídfara was sent with a few others as out-riders to scout conditions as they approached Minas Tirith at last. On his return, they crossed out of the Grey Wood side by side, passing through one of the large breaches that had been made in the great wall encircling the fields outside the city. As Wídfara noted to the king himself, an encouraging scent was in the wind that morning, and the light of dawn seemed likely to break around them at any moment as the Rohirrim lined up to make their triumphant arrival to the defense of Gondor.

While they waited for other éoreds to fill in behind them, Wídfara watched Guthláf make his final battle preparations. With his reins tied to Syndrigan’s saddle, he slid his shield onto his left arm and unfurled the king’s banner, a white horse charging across a field of deep green with a glorious sun above. The reverence and care Guthláf showed whenever handling the flag never failed to move Wídfara, and a rush of feeling welled up in his chest, an overwhelming urge to tell him again what he had already heard so many times before. I love you. Wídfara swallowed the words before they escaped his lips, painfully aware of the dozens of others within hearing distance, but Guthláf’s head turned anyway, as though Wídfara’s silent devotion had somehow called his attention. He studied Wídfara’s face for a moment, and the corner of his mouth turned up into a small smile.

“I know, Wíd.” He brushed a hand quickly over his heart. “You, too.”

Before any more could be said, Théoden crossed in front of them, standing in his stirrups and giving his last exhortations. He seized Guthláf’s horn as he passed and blew a great blast that was quickly echoed by many others. With this sign, Théoden and Snowmane sprang forward and the whole army raced to follow, a mass of gleaming helmets and bristling spears. They picked up more speed and sound with each advancing hoofbeat until it seemed the entire field was flowing in one deafening wave that would sweep away anything in its path. Guthláf took a last look over at Wídfara and his lips moved again, but his words were lost to the clamor. And then he was off, shot out to his place at the front with the charging white horse streaming proudly in his wake.

Wídfara urged Cypren to give chase, taking up the battle song of their éored as they thundered ahead, and for a time, everything went exactly as it should. They descended on ranks of enemy forces that hadn’t expected or prepared for their arrival, and they clove their way through entire companies of Haradrim, who fell easily before them. Wídfara rode his charge, keeping Guthláf and the banner always in sight as he shot his arrows, and the morning sun and a bracing sea-tinged wind in his face left him feeling near invincible as he cut his way through fighters in black and red, who had begun to turn and flee.

But in the midst of their rout, a sudden shadow fell.

Before Wídfara could find its source, his horse reared up in panic, and all around him riders were thrown from the saddle or carried off as mounts bolted in the opposite direction. He managed to keep his seat through several bucking leaps, but the fourth forced him off and an errant hoof struck his helmet as he tried to gather himself. He staggered forward one or two steps before sliding to the ground as everything went dark.

When he opened his eyes again, the shadow was gone. He clawed off his helmet and rolled onto his side. How much time had elapsed was beyond his guess, and his head felt cloudy and unfocused. But somewhere within those clouds a single thought soon crystallized. Guthláf.

He pulled himself up on an elbow, the field swimming in front of him, but he heaved a deep breath and slowly his vision cleared. Dead bodies, man and horse, lay all around, along with some kind of winged beast he’d never seen before, now missing its head. He stumbled to his feet and began a frantic search among the carnage, rushing from corpse to corpse, choking back the nausea as he discovered friend after friend. The dizziness in his head and the panic in his chest threatened to send him back to unconsciousness, but he kept scrambling forward until his eyes fell at last on the body of a dappled grey horse that he knew in an instant and all the light and sound of the world fell away. He limped the last few steps around Syndrigan and pulled in a ragged breath at the sight of his deepest fear made real.

Guthláf lay on his back in a wide pool of blood, his unseeing eyes staring ahead. The staff of the banner was still in his right hand, and his left was clutched to his chest. Wídfara collapsed to his knees and seized that hand, and as he wrapped his own around it, his mother’s ring fell from Guthláf’s grip. Something inside of Wídfara broke, and a pain beyond any he had ever known or imagined flooded through him, set loose by the breaking and with nothing to stop it from overtaking him completely.

The front line of the fighting had moved on for a time, leaving an eerie temporary calm here in the center of the battlefield, and Wídfara sat alone at Guthláf’s side for long minutes, seemingly the only living soul in a circle of death. He felt weighted to the ground, his limbs like lead and the blood in his veins gone solid. Everything around him became hazy and indistinct, all but Guthláf’s face. Wídfara couldn’t tear his gaze from that face, desperate to see those pale blue eyes blink back to life, the color to return to his cheeks, the mouth to smile and speak the words that would tell him that this was merely a nightmare. A hallucination of a mind suffering from a recent blow and preying on his greatest terrors.

Into this private agony, a company of riders came, Rohirrim following the Third Marshal and his flowing horse-tailed helmet. Wídfara paid them no heed and, in fact, didn’t even register their presence until one approached to pull the banner from Guthláf’s lifeless hand. As the flag passed before his eyes, unspooling from the ground with a deep red stain soaked into the white horse emblem, another searing pain tore through him, like the burn of an open flame pressed directly to his heart. He slumped down onto Guthláf’s chest, whimpering quietly to himself and hoping only for the flame to consume him quickly, to reduce him to ashes that would have no awareness or feeling. But instead, a small hand appeared on his shoulder and shook it insistently.

“Are you hurt?”

The hand pulled him up by the spaulder, and he raised his eyes to find a small man before him. He was dressed in the gear of an esquire of Rohan but was several feet shorter than an average Rohirrim, more like the size of a child. The man stood unsteadily, one arm pressed awkwardly to his side, and looked over his shoulder at new forces of the enemy gathering in the near distance. “If you’re hurt, you should make your way into the city,” he said. “You can’t stay here like this. The battle will overrun you soon enough.”

“I don’t care,” Wídfara whispered, as much to himself as to the small stranger. He tightened his grip on Guthláf’s hand.

“This man, he was your friend? Or kinsman?”

“He’s my…He was my…” Wídfara broke off, unable to speak the truth but unwilling to say that Guthláf was anything less than he had been. A sob rose in his throat, and he looked down.

The small hand came back to his shoulder, the voice pained but firm. “I don’t think he would want you to die here today.”

Somehow, those simple words pierced the tormented haze of Wídfara’s mind and hit their mark. He knew they were true. If Guthláf still had even a single breath in his body, he would use it to push Wídfara forward. To urge him to be brave and fight his way to safety. I’m asking you to try. To give up now would be a failure of everything Guthláf would have wanted for him or for Rohan. Whatever else he felt, Wídfara knew he couldn’t let his last act be such a betrayal.

He nodded to the small esquire, who turned quietly away, and he took his last, long look at the face of the man he loved above all else. He fought back the urge to take Guthláf’s hand, now growing cold in his, and hold it to himself. Against his heart. His cheek. Anywhere that he could press it like a stamp into wax, hoping to leave behind a mark, something to carry away with him and bear for as long as possible. Instead, feeling the weight of other eyes now on him, he rewrapped Guthláf’s fingers around his mother’s ring, placed the hand gently back on his chest, and hauled himself shakily to his feet.

The rider who now carried Guthláf’s banner gestured in the direction of an available horse, its own rider dead or forced from his saddle. Wídfara mounted up and slipped into the company just as the host began to move again. All around him were cries of ‘Death!’ and the ringing of blades being drawn as they charged toward the re-formed lines of the Southrons ahead, and Wídfara urged his horse forward, following the bloodstain on that banner wherever it would lead.

The rest of the battle meant little to him. He fought hard and without fear or sensation of any kind. Something in his mind shut down, the parts of him that felt and thought going numb and leaving only the part that guided his limbs through the motions of duty. The same was true when the battle was over, when he was then marched out to the Morannon under the combined banners of the Men of the West, and when they marched back, victorious over all. The unsettling numbness only ended when they came within sight of Minas Tirith once more and he caught his first glimpse of the burial mounds that had been raised, the new hills of earth and stone where somewhere inside Guthláf would rest forever. And then he wished for the numbness again. He would have gone to his knees and begged for it, for anything that would dull the razor-sharp edges of the hurt that sliced through every part of him.

Wídfara spent the days before the host’s return to Rohan in quiet misery. As they waited for the orders of their new king, his éored camped just outside the gates of Minas Tirith. His fellow riders used the time to soak in the majesty of the city, still wondrous even after so much destruction, and to distract themselves from their own grief with the thrill of new experiences. They walked the streets, freely accepting the heartfelt congratulations and thanks of the Gondorians who had long prayed for the arrival of the Rohirrim, and they drank to their own health and good luck. But Wídfara could enjoy none of it.

The city was dull and colorless to him, as though he viewed everything through a veil that removed all the vibrancy and loveliness from the world, and he took no pleasure in the warm welcome he received when he chanced out of camp. He bridled at the people’s insistence that a glorious victory had been won when he knew himself to be drowning in an all-consuming loss. He was repeatedly told, in breathless and enthusiastic terms, how fortunate he was to have survived, and he could only stare blankly at these smiling, well-intentioned faces and wonder how anyone looking at his wretched existence would conclude that he still lived.

The return to Rohan did nothing to ease his pain. He had never known Edoras without Guthláf, and memories of him dwelt in all corners of the city. Every place he went, everywhere he looked, he somehow expected to see Guthláf there. He could see Guthláf. Laughing in the tack room at the stable. Chatting in line for sweets at the central market. Stretched out and smiling in the blankets of Wídfara’s own bed. So present and so absent all at once. Each time that he looked up with the expectation to find Guthláf in front of him or had the reflexive impulse to share a thought or feeling with him, the sharp and swift correction of reality chipped away another small part of his spirit, which he felt growing ever thinner and more fragile.

He took to spending long hours curled up in his room in the dark, alone except for Guthláf’s dog, Slaga, who would accept no other guardian. He ignored the regular knocks on his door and the calling of his name, even when the voice doing the calling was Elfhelm himself. He longed for his mother, who alone could perhaps have given him the comfort he needed, but she was so separated from him by distance and expense that he had no way even to tell her what had happened. Everyone else he kept at arm’s length, avoiding them or making excuses and slipping away as needed rather than struggling through a conversation that he didn’t know how to have.

He left his room only when called by duty or to occasionally retrieve Slaga, who developed a habit of slipping away from the barracks to take up a watch at the stables, patiently waiting by Syndrigan’s old stall for Guthláf’s return. The sixth or seventh time it happened, Wídfara decided to leave the dog there and allow him to wait it out in the barn. Two days later, he was awakened in the night by scratching at his door, and when the little dog slunk in and curled up sadly in his lap, the extinguishing of the final hope for Guthláf felt like a whole new loss to mourn.

Wídfara’s primary duty in those first few weeks was to attend the funerals that began soon after their return to the city. Though their fallen riders would remain forever in the fields outside Minas Tirith, the new king set aside official days of mourning to honor their dead at home, and funerals without bodies were held in cities and villages across the Mark. The losses in Théoden’s éored had been particularly heavy, so many having fallen victim to the same force of evil that menaced Théoden’s own last moments, and for a time it seemed the stretch of funerals in Edoras would be endless. There was death on a scale that hadn’t been seen since the Long Winter of Helm Hammerhand’s reign and an equal number of lingering injuries and traumas.

Wídfara attended every funeral of his éored, forcing himself to remember each man specifically even as there was only ever one man he wanted in his thoughts. He listened to the moving remembrances and the painful tears of parents, friends, and commanding officers, and he sang as various dirges and hymns were offered to honor the fallen and to call on Ácith to escort them to the halls of their fathers. But most of all, he watched the widows, grieving openly and fully, as they accepted the traditional offering of gratitude in acknowledgment of their suffering. A senior rider spoke each sentence of the pledge, repeated by every remaining member of the company.

“Dredda, we thank you for sharing Déorwine with us…We are humbled by the sacrifice that you’ve made…We pledge to you that it was not made in vain…In his life and in his death, he made Rohan a stronger and prouder kingdom.”

“Serugimm, we thank you for sharing Harding with us…”

“Eadhild, we thank you for sharing Herefara with us…”

“Wenebyrd, we thank you for sharing Fastred with us…”

“Luftmeda, we thank you for sharing Herubrand with us…”

He heard the words so many times that they ran through his sleep at night, haunting even his resting mind. And each time he said them, and each time he followed them by taking his place in the line to offer an individual expression of thanks and support to these bereaved women, he fought to keep the jealousy from his heart. For all the pain the women felt, they at least had the solace of occupying a recognized role. No one questioned a widow’s mourning. No one wondered why tears were always moments away or begrudged her a day where she couldn’t stand to see other people’s happiness. But he had to keep those same feelings in himself obscured beneath a veneer of acceptability, a false show of grief that would match expectations for someone who had lost a friend rather than an irreplaceable part of his own soul.

He felt keenly the alienating loneliness that Guthláf had foreseen back in their tent in Dunharrow those weeks ago. The burden now lay on his memories alone to keep all knowledge of their love from being wiped clean from the world, washed away like footprints after a rain. There was no one else who knew that Guthláf adored Wídfara’s dimples or that it had delighted Wídfara to discover that Guthláf was ticklish behind his knees. No one else who knew the silly things they laughed about just between themselves or the ways they each liked to be touched. No one else who knew that Guthláf was desperately nervous to make a good impression on Wídfara’s mother if they could ever meet, or that Wídfara dreamed of taking Guthláf someday to see the ocean and to wade together in its warm shallows.

Just one other person around him who understood and acknowledged all that he had lost could have helped pull Wídfara from the furthest depths of his grief, to wrest him back toward the light that glinted on the surface above his head. But he had only the cold, nameless currents of the deep clawing at his feet, tugging him further down into the dark unknown.

Guthláf’s funeral was the éored’s last and also its largest. All the city seemed to be in attendance – riders from all the éoreds of Edoras, the regulars from Guthláf’s favorite tavern, the women from the market where he always bought the cakes and treats that were his weakness, the young boys who idolized his riding skill and had followed him around the stable like a mythic figure from history. Had Wídfara been able to think clearly, he would have been moved to see the outpouring of affection for Guthláf, but it was all he could do to remind himself just to continue drawing breath, to find a way to live through yet another phase of this ongoing nightmare.

The ceremony was held by the barrows outside the city gates, and a gentle breeze wafted the smell of apple blossoms across the rows of hay bales and other makeshift chairs. The scent reminded Wídfara of his first night with Guthláf, when they had shared a bottle of apple mead, and he wondered if he would ever again be able to think of those happy memories without feeling as though he was pressing on an open wound. He made his way to a seat near the front, friends of his and Guthláf filling in the spaces around him, and kept his head down, allowing the curtains of his loose hair to obscure any view of the tears sliding over his cheeks and off his chin.

The service began, and Wídfara worked to maintain his calm by silently counting his own breaths as rites and traditions unfolded around him. There were songs and short speeches, and Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth, acting as representative of Gondor at all the war-related funerals of Edoras, offered a blessing on behalf of the Gondorians and their king. Cups of mead were passed from person to person as the names of Guthláf’s ancestors were recited and their care sought in welcoming him to the halls of his forebears. A bier was placed in his family’s barrow where his body would have lain, the frame empty but for the banner marked with his blood that had been recovered from the rider who bore it through the remainder of the war.

Finally, Elfhelm rose to speak, taking up a place on a small podium at the front of the crowd.

“As most of you likely know, Guthláf lost the family of his birth in the Great Fire of 3006. Just fifteen years old, he found himself suddenly without parents or siblings or even grandparents. And when a tragedy of that nature happens, there are two ways a person can react. They can keep the love they had for those they lost and hold it all inside, until eventually it curdles into anger and bitterness. Or they can take that love and let it out, finding new ways to use it and new people to give it to. And that’s what Guthláf, a man of many talents, was the very best at. He gave all of his love to us. To his friends, his éored, his country. And we loved him back.” Elfhelm’s voice trembled, and he paused for a moment to collect himself before continuing. “His first family was cruelly taken from him, and that might have broken a lesser man. But he worked hard to build a new family for himself. He was like a son to some of us. A brother to many. A treasured friend to all. And much more than that to one.”

Those last words caught in Wídfara’s ear, and he looked up from the handkerchief he had been twisting back and forth in his hands. Elfhelm’s eyes seemed to be on him, though he immediately turned his gaze as he continued.

“Guthláf never married, but that doesn’t mean he was alone. He kept that part of his life private, but it’s almost impossible to hide love when it’s been found at last. You can see it in someone’s eyes and in their smile. In the way their gaze is constantly drawn to the object of their devotion. In their instinct to protect that person and their labors to make them happy. He was in love, I can tell you that. And it feels only right to me that the sacrifice and courage of the one he loved so well be recognized here today, in keeping with our traditions.” His eyes swept across the mourners, stopping again briefly, almost imperceptibly, on Wídfara as they went. “If such recognition would be welcome.”

A wave of dizziness hit Wídfara, and he pressed his boots into the grass in an attempt to steady himself. Elfhelm’s words had been simple enough, but he struggled to make sense of them nonetheless. He could only discern a single meaning, but it was one that couldn’t be right. He stared up at the marshal, seeking some indication of whether he had misunderstood, but Elfhelm now studiously avoided looking in his direction. Wídfara’s mind raced, rearranging Elfhelm’s words and pulling them apart, looking at them from different directions and angles. And yet he kept arriving back at the same conclusions, no matter how unbelievable: Elfhelm knew their secret. He accepted it. And he thought that Wídfara could now acknowledge that secret to everyone else.

Of course he had long dreamed of the chance to do just that, to claim openly what had always been his in private. They both had, though only Guthláf had been brave enough to ever imagine it was possible. Why should they care if we love each other? I don’t think they will. Not the ones that matter, at least. Now, it seemed, there was a chance to see him proved right and to put an end to the secrecy and hiding for good. An end to acting like the most cherished part of Wídfara’s life was something to be ashamed of. The idea was powerfully tempting, and he was certain Elfhelm would never intentionally lead him into harm. But a lifetime of fear and caution couldn’t be simply shrugged off in an instant, and he found that his feet wouldn’t move as much as he might want them to. Instead he sat, caught between terror and hope, paralyzed with indecision.

And then he felt a hand on his arm, just a light squeeze. It came from Arengan, seated on his left. He smiled gently at Wídfara and inclined his head up toward the podium. Another light nudge came from the right, where Freogan sat, and then more hands briefly clapped onto his shoulders from the row behind. Quiet, encouraging words were whispered from seats a little further off. He turned slowly only to find other expectant faces looking his way, somehow already aware of what he and Guthláf had always feared to share and watching him now with both kindness and pity.

A sharp, clear certainty took sudden shape in his heart, spoken in a beloved voice. These are good people, and they can bear an unfamiliar idea. He could do this. He would do this. He rose slowly and crossed the small distance to the podium where Elfhelm stood. A murmur of shocked confusion rippled through parts of the crowd, but Elfhelm silenced it with a stern glance. Then he smiled at Wídfara, put a strong arm around his shoulders and gestured for everyone to stand. Hundreds of people rose, leaving only pockets of quiet resistance still in their seats.

“Wídfara, we thank you for sharing Guthláf with us…”

A wall of voices echoed back Elfhelm’s words – voices of fast friends and of teary-eyed strangers, those who knew and loved Wídfara and those who just wanted to honor what Guthláf had known and loved. Wídfara heard each one as a precious gift, another soul to stand alongside his in honoring the truth of Guthláf’s life and the role that he had played in it. Tears streamed down his cheeks, but for the first time since that awful day, they weren’t solely tears of sorrow. Amidst his grief there was also relief for himself and pride for Guthláf and gratitude for Elfhelm and those who now saw him as he was. The enormous weight that had sat on his chest for weeks eased ever so slightly, not because his grief was lessened but because, at last, the burden of it was shared.

More than anything else, Wídfara felt his overwhelming love for Guthláf. Of all the kind and supportive faces looking back at him now, Guthláf had brought nearly every one into his life. He had made the first introductions, smoothed away the shyness, lent Wídfara his own good favor by making him a part of all that he did. It had always been Guthláf, easing his way at every turn, riding at the leading edge and signaling the direction so that Wídfara could follow.

All of this washed over him as he listened to the rest of the recitation and then as a whole column of people lined up to offer him individual words of comfort and support. He cried and smiled, and sometimes both at once, as he spoke to each person, some of whom were surprised but understanding and others who professed to have long known or, at least, suspected. To talk so freely and openly about Guthláf — the whole Guthláf — brought a warmth and fullness back into Wídfara that he wouldn’t have thought possible only an hour before, and he stood a little taller and a little stronger with each person to embrace him.

At last, at the very end of the line, came Elfhelm once again.

“I would have understood if you had decided to keep silent,” he said, “but I’m glad that you didn’t. You deserved the recognition, son. Both of you did. He was a good man, and he wanted this acknowledgment for you. If anyone gives you any trouble, you just let me know. I won’t stand for it.”

“Thank you, Marshal. I know that’s not nearly enough, but I can’t find any other words right now.”

“I know, son. You don’t have to worry about that.” Elfhelm wrapped his arms around Wídfara and thumped a big fist against his back. “All I need to hear is that you’re alright.”

Wídfara took a long, deep breath and brushed a few tears from his cheeks. “I will be,” he said. And for Guthláf’s sake, he would make it true.

Random/self-indulgent notes:

It’s canon that Éomer & co. were ignoring Merry while they were dealing with Théoden’s death, so why couldn’t he have been talking to Wíd during that brief time???

Ácith is a Rohirric name (“Ever Young”) for Vána, the wife of Oromë/Béma. Flowers bloom in her wake, and so my Rohirrim believe that the consistent appearance of simbelmynë on their graves is evidence that she personally comes to escort their dead to the halls of their fathers.

All the names of the fallen from Guthláf and Wíd’s éored come from the Mounds of Mundburg song at the end of Chapter 6 of ROTK. (Guthláf’s name is also in the song, 1 of the 3 specific references to him in the LOTR text.) Of course, the wives are invented.

Is it cheap grace to present many of the Rohirrim as accepting of Wíd and Guthláf being gay? I don’t think so. There is plenty of textual evidence that the Rohirrim are more progressive than their overall culture reflects, and they readily accept change when it’s presented to them. No one but Háma thought to put Éowyn in charge, but they loved the idea when he suggested it. No one let Éowyn join the army, but Elfhelm (and presumably a lot of his men!) actively chose to let her stay when he found her there. Éomer didn’t realize what life was like for women in Rohan, but when Gandalf explained it, he didn’t argue or get defensive – he listened and reevaluated.

So I think this is canonically defensible. They had a culture where there was no acknowledged place for queerness, and that allowed a lot of fear to develop in the silence. But some of them could see there was something between Guthláf and Wíd (despite best efforts, they were occasionally spotted coming and going from each other’s rooms at odd times; neither showed any real interest in women but were clearly devoted to each other; both were seen going to pieces at some point when the other one was at risk), so some folks were used to that idea before anyone ever dared to speak it out loud. And others, even if they had no clue, could still roll with it when they found out because they already loved Guthláf and/or Wíd as people and they were open minded enough to see that this didn’t really change anything. Throw in a universally respected dude like Elfhelm signaling his own support, and that brings even more people along. Plus, I’m not writing tragedy porn here, so I needed a note of hope to end on!

(Also, in case anyone is curious, do I think Guthláf told Elfhelm he was gay? Yes, I think he saw Elfhelm late at night in Dunharrow, Elfhelm asked him what was wrong, and Guthláf blurted out everything to his beloved mentor. And then I think Elfhelm said, “duh,” because it had already been obvious to him and he had only been waiting for the guys to feel comfortable saying something. So Elfhelm was not at all surprised – or bothered, because Elfhelm’s number one canonical character trait is to support other people doing their thing. I think Elfhelm told Guthláf that he’d happily back him up if/when he and Wíd decided to go public.)

Thanks as always to @quillofspirit for the lovely Rohan-fied dividers!

@emmanuellececchi @hobbitwrangler @konartiste @sotwk @dreambigdreamz

#guthláf #wídfara #rohirrim #obscure blorbos #horse boys in love #lotr #lord of the rings #guthlaf #widfara

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arminsumi · 2 years ago

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AOT hcs | Obsessive! + yandere!Armin things

MDNI

Just some hcs for an obsessive and yandere-ish Armin!

NSFW cws; smut, smutty vocab, breeding kink, creampie,

Dark cws; manipulation + slight gaslighting, yandere + obsessive!Armin, slight dubcon

♡ For regular hcs and ♥ For NSFW hcs!

♡ He builds up this 'innocent cutie' reputation; Oh, Armin? No way, he's never done a lewd thing in his life

♡ The second you insinuate to his friends that Armin's obsessed with you, you're met with dismissive hand waves and "No ways" because "This is Armin we're talking about!"

♡ When you confront him about anything, he diffuses your accusations with "You know me, y/n, I'd never do something like that!"

♡ Gives you this damn beautiful smile when he needs to charm you into doing something

♡ He showers you with affection and compliments so much so that you're captivated and ready to turn an oblivious eye to the obsessive behavior he's displaying

♡ Wants to get you alone every time he sees you, absolutely hates it when you're out of his sight at a party; he'll seek you out and keep close

♡ Uses these lines a lot;

♡ "Really? Do you really think I'd do that to you? Don't you know me better than that?"

♡ "Have you ever actually been manipulated by someone? You're just throwing words around now. You know, I've actually been manipulated by people, I know what it's like."

♡ "We haven't hung out in so long, though :("

♡ "Isn't this what friends do for each other?"

♡ "Can you really blame me? I mean..."

♡ "I never want to make you feel uncomfortable."

♡ "We're just friends helping each other out, don't overthink it."

♡ He gives you bright doe eyes, just to really drive home the goodboy facade

♡ Does this thing where he rubs his thumb back and forth across his lips while giving a cold, analytical glare at anyone that he suspects is getting too close to you

♡ He's very smooth, you'll never notice that he's keeping a possessive hold on your hips throughout a party until he's steering you into the bathroom

♡ Steals lustful glances all the time but you'll never notice

♡ Always asks you to study with him at his dorm, all alone together, because he says he feels so lonely without you

NSFW

♥ Always coos "Don't worry, I'll be gentle." but then he's slamming into you hard enough to make the headboard knock against the wall

♥ Really can't control himself once he gets a taste of you, def wants it all the time and finds any excuse (as well as makes up excuses) to fuck you

♥ Whenever you scream his name it makes his heart sing, encouraging him go even harder

♥ He knows he's got you with the whole 'sweet blond boy' schtick, but he's still paranoid; so he's going to make sure you're stuck with him

♥ He's in a daze of blinding hot pleasure, but he still has his tact about him, and knows he has to phrase things just right so that you don't freak out

♥ "I wanna cum inside, can I please? I-is it okay?"

♥ He knows he's totally fooled you with that innocent stutter in his voice

♥ His gentle words are always mismatched with the dirty rolling of his hips against you; really, he's not just fucking because he loves you, he wants to be as close as physically possible, he wants to be the reason you have an ache in your hips

♥ Most importantly he just really wants to fuck a baby into your hips

♥ If you ever give him the 'not in the mood' thing, he knows exactly how to change your mind

♥ Starts with a few little kisses leading up your neck, a pouty look, those doe eyes etc

♥ "You don't have to do much, and I'll be quick, I promise."

♥ Literally 5 mins after saying that he's plunging deep inside you, stretching out your little hole so much that it makes you weep from pleasure

♥ You literally have to beg him to stop bc he'll get so wrapped up into it that he doesn't realize you're exhausted

♥ He'll keep conveniently forgetting condoms

♥ Usually he maintains this super sweet, welcoming voice and expression around you, but this mask breaks apart when he's got you pressed down into his mattress

♥ "You like that, hm? Like it when I fuck you like this?"

♥ Has to smirk to himself when he sees you cumming all over his length

♥ Head empty for hypersexual Scorpio boy

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writers-ex · 2 years ago

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Istg i am so tense today 💀

So yesterday was Friday. Its Saturday morning here rn, btw. And some of my friends werent coming to college due to personal reasons. Now because everyone is usually busy in their work, no one has time to send the notes from the classes, so they told everyone to take the day off. Our Fridays are shorter days btw.

Being the head girl of the college, i tried to stop them cuz it might get us in trouble. But they didnt listen, so everyone was taking the day off. So i also thought that there is no reason to go to the college cuz no ones coming. So no one came, as planned.

EXCEPT ONE GIRL. She advertised the plan of not coming to college to everyone on our insta group, and then she just backed out. We thought that it was ok as long as she didnt tell anyone.

BUT THEN WHAT HAPPENED? We get a message from the teachers, saying that the parents have to tell the reason why everyone except that girl came. We panicked a bit but we all had our excuses. We decided not to message the teacher and just tell our excuses on Monday.

And thats where it all came crashing down. We just got a message, like 5 mins before the time i am writing this, that our whole class except that girl will be heavily penalized because we 'lied to our parents about the day being off' and 'breaking the college discipline code'. Btw we never lied to our parents.

Anyways, we found out that THAT GIRL SNITCHED ON US, SENT OUR CHAT'S SCREENSHOTS TO THE PRINCIPAL, AND GOT OUT OF THE PLAN LIKE SHE WAS NEVER INVOLVED. Mind you, if her parenyts had agreed to let her take the day off, she would never have come to school. And she was so unapologetic too. Like i get that we werent all innocent, but snitching and throwing everyone under the bus is so wrong 😭😭😭

I never liked that girl tbh. She fails her classes, she is not good at any extra curriculars, she is a wannabe teachers pet. And she visits the washroom 10 times a day idk why. Thats suspicious, if you ask me.

Im sorry for this long story, but i just wanted to vent out. Please pray for me and my class 😓

-🦔

this girl sounds horrible so i hope your weekend is better, i am glaring at her from my laptop and patting your back as well >:( rude little troll- please keep me posted bc this sounds…i want to know you are ok plz

side rant that happened with a girl in my class that turned out to be a cousin of mine…she so fricking ditzy giggling and making the teacher answer the most randomest questions in class while they give us lecture like bish wait or write it down BUT NO she keeps going and asking about the test and only paying attention to a lecture if its going to be on a test and not the actual INFORMATION WE NEED TO DO THE JOB LIKE BISH LIFE ISN"T ABT A GRADE????? i care abt my grade and study but like i want to perform the actual job correctly so even if the textbook is old i want to understand the idea and actually perform the task up to the standards NOT WEAR MY HEADPHONES AND LEAVE RANDOMLY FOR ABT AN HOUR OF CLASS ONLY TO BUG THE TEACHER ABT DOING THE LECTURE AGAIN BC YOU "LEFT SOMETHING IN UR CAR" why do you have to leave TEN TIMES A DAY TO UR CAR?????????????????? and then she hugs and hangs out with me like nothing happens and smells dirty like idk ur home life but shower or borrow my perfume please TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT dont even get me started on her cheating and she has the nerve to complain abt her grades being one point less when she cheats??????????? i study and earn my grade honestly PISS OFF but i usually just smile and walk away before i punch the wall <3 bro this wednesday i was cleaning instruments during our BUSIET CLINIC EVER so i had to clean everything for eight hours straight with no help and one classmate lost a tiny screw in the sink when i left to grab some water BC I HAVEN"T DRANK WATER IN LIKE FIVE HOURS?????? so im tired, thirsty, and surviving off some milk i drank in the morning bc we don't get breaks for food either and THIS GIRL HAS THE NERVE TO LAUGH AND HUG ME SAYING THAT SHE WANTS ME TO CLEAN HER ROOM BC SHE NEEDS TO GET SMT IN HER CAR WHILE IM PANCIKING ABT LOOSING THIS SCREW THATS EXPENSIVE AND INSTRUMENTS ARE PILING (and god im so mad rn) and its all a blur after that bc i think i cried or blacked out and kept cleaning ignoring her :') i hate my life bc she thinks we're buddies and i want to slap her

whew rant over….so sorry to sound so violent this girl gets me mad and did also b4 we left class yesterday (it was friday for me) GAH

#🦔 anon

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toughgirlchallenges · 2 years ago

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Ingrid Walters - Competitive swimmer turned marathon runner. PB of 2hr 48 mins. Breast Cancer Survivor. Inducted into The National Black Distance Running Hall of Fame.

Ingrid has loved competitive sports since a young age. Originally swimming was her passion and she began swimming competitively at 6 years old, she swam throughout high school and attending UCLA (a division 1 school) where she swam competitively for 2 years, while studying Sociology.

After leaving college, Ingrid made the transition from swimming to running and also decided to become an actress. Played lifeguard Sheryl Whelan, on Baywatch as well as having roles on Scandal, Grey's Anatomy, Castle, and Parenthood, to name a few!

At the age of 47 after running her fastest marathon ever, 2hr 48 mins in the 2019 LA Marathon.

Ingrid was feeling the strongest and fittest she’d ever been.

However, while training for her next challenge, she started to not feel well and after seeing her doctor was diagnosed with breast cancer. Ingrid underwent a double mastectomy, and continued to run while undergoing six rounds of chemotherapy as well as radiation.

Ingrid is a member of Janes an elite women’s running group based in LA and in 2021 Ingrid was inducted into the National Black Distance Running Hall of Fame.

RUNNING CAREER HIGHLIGHTS

2014 3rd Place Masters Female Chicago Marathon 2014 2nd Place Female Overall Orange County Marathon 2016 USATF Masters Half Marathon Championship: 5th place Masters Woman Overall 2021 2nd Place 50+, 12th Overall USATF Masters XC Club Nationals Tallahassee,FL 2022 1st Place 50+, 8th Overall USATF Masters XC Championships Mission Bay, CA

New episodes of the Tough Girl Podcast go live every Tuesday and Thursday 7am UK time - Make sure to subscribe so you don’t miss out.

The Tough Girl Podcast is being sponsored throughout March by Inov-8. www.inov-8.com

Get involved with the #MarchDailyMile Challenge. Run 1 mile everyday in March.

Show Notes

Who is Ingrid

Being based in Santa Monica, California, USA

Racing for the past 10 years

Starting out as a competitive swimmer

Swimming for 2 years in College at UCLA

Hating running when she was younger

Transition to running at 18/19 years old

Starting to work as a lifeguard for LA County

Running on the beach and doing her first marathon

Running marathons and improving her times

Joining the Janes’ an elite running team in Santa Monica and wanting to break 3hrs in the marathon

Always loved training and competing

Liking to challenge herself

Working as an actor for 26 years

Finding her niche in life

What was Ingrid like as a little girl

Being taught to swim from a very young age

Being a junior lifeguard

Studying Sociology at College in the early 90s

Getting into acting and booking her first commercial

Acting in Baywatch

Gradually falling in love with running

Hal Higdon - Marathon training plan

Deciding to join the Janes Elite Running Club

Taking 5 years to run under 3hrs

Being fully committed to her running program

Getting a running coach and running 70 miles a week

Breaking 3 hrs when she was 45 years old

Starting to change her training and wanting to go faster

Running 100mile weeks for 3 months before the LA Marathon

Running 2.48 at the LA Marathon!!!

Starting to not feel well and being diagnosed with Breast Cancer

Feeling shocked

The next steps to follow

Being supported by the running community

Running throughout her treatment

Having surgery in August 2019

Getting into cross country races in 2021

Having a baby heart attack at a race in New Jersey

Figuring out what happened

Looking at running in a different way

Reframing the situation in her mind

Advice for new runners starting out

The joy of making running fun!

A magical running memory

How to connect with Ingrid

Social Media

Instagram @ingridwalt

Janes Elite Racing - www.thejanes.net

Check out this episode!

#podcast #women #sports #health #motivation #challenges #change #adventure #active #wellness #explore #grow #support #encourage #running #swimming #triathlon #exercise #weights

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andromedasummer · 2 years ago

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is there seriously nowhere to buy textbooks in person anymore for vic uni?? wow that really is horrible. fuck all the "protestors" and their lingering sentiment. what's your opinion on vic uni as it stands now? i've heard from a lot of people that in recent years it has changed (in a negative way), and even tho the uni wasn't responsible for the protestors, i heard from some people that they weren't so keen on the uni in the aftermath. whether it was due to the proximity to parliament or i also heard the uni's response towards students was basically "tough luck" when their finances and studies were impacted due to the "protestors"

yeah we got emails and the response was straight up "nothing we can do, avoid coming in if you feel threatened" which was like. yeah?? we feel threatened? 12-18 yr old girls at the local high school had to add like 20/30 mins to their commute because if they went past the protests they would be harassed. my 19 yr old coworker was reduced to tears by a man screaming at her at the train station about her mask. she had to come into work using uber to avoid it happening again. she lived over an hour away, it was NOT cheap.

i walked past or through the protestors a lot because i had to go in that way to study, home was too busy and our internet was spotty. i had to get very used to ignoring the shouting. but the public were at boiling point by the end assaults/harassment of the general public had gone up, local businesses being invaded happened more and suddenly people were driving past the protestors throwing milkshakes or yelling at them, which only made them more aggressive.

as for whats up at vic im not sure im the best person to ask. i dont pay attention to too many of the changes and rarely participate in clubs (i did help with classical theater and uniq in my first 2 years)

what i can say is the million dollars spent on the new science centre was useless, as the reason the science department needed a new building was because their lecture halls and labs were too small. the buildings rooms are the exact same size as they were in the other building. so the science faculty are fucked if they want anything for the next decade because "oh well you just got a new building." i dont know why theyve bought that massive bloody abandoned building down the hill and dont see how paying for its destruction is going to help with costs, god knows what they plan on putting there. at least first years will stop breaking in and cutting themselves on broken glass and nails/falling through broken flooring.

i adore pretty much all but one or two lecturers ive had at vic, the good ones are exceptionally good and make attending class a joy. and because nz is so small they know everyone in their subject worth knowing and are happy to make connections with them possible which is a lifesaver. also as someone who restarted their degree cos health problems + changed subjects ive had a LOT of lecturers from psych to classics to media studies to polsci. my main problem is the problem is the treatment of lecturers.

a close friend of mine from high school works as a tutor there and as much as he adores it, every time hes ever gotten his paycheck its because his union pressed vic to send it on time. recently theres been protests by staff for better pay, which i fully support, i even attended some protests because quite frankly for the experience, knowledge and ties these people have they are paid a pittance.

as for the book stores, we have multiple bookstores here but most are secondhand. the ones that arent dont stock textbooks, because the dedicated textbook place for 50+ years has been vicbooks. i dont know who it will fall to. unitybooks maybe? or we'll just have to order online like i said before.

but with the protests, people likely got turned off heading to vic because, ultimately, parliaments down the hill from from it. literally you just gotta walk up the terrace, turn right and then walk another 5 minutes. takes 20 minutes if youre fit enough. getting into uni was near impossible for most people because you had to go through or past the protest camp to get there (unless you were lucky enough to live on the other side of the city and go up the terrace the other side). also, because the main city train station and main city bus station are/were on the other side of the camp, it made confrontation if you used those modes of transport unavoidable.

ultimately the protest is not vics fault, not by a mile. if i were to blame anyone it would be 1. the protestors themselves 2. the police, who, when i walked past on day one, had only sent a cop car and 3 cops to watch over the situation, which is how they managed to pitch all the tents/blockade the traffic/take as much ground as they did. police were woefully, woefully unprepared. 3rd blame goes to the tow companies who all refused to remove the vehicles blocking the street because they were sympathetic to the group that were spraying nazi symbols on the war monument and calling for execution of our politicians. fuck them.

honestly im just glad that its over, even a year on. my dad was coming home when the fighting broke out and he could see them throwing bricks and starting fires a street away and the riot police bearing down on them and using hose. it was incredibly unnerving to watch, esp as i had friends and family working in the buildings around there.

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daveeddy · 2 years ago

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The How of Happiness- Chapter 4 summary & thoughts

Studies have shown that people who are consistently grateful are generally happier, more energetic, more hopeful, helpful, empathetic, more spiritual/religious, more forgiving, less materialistic, less likely to be depressed, anxious, lonely, envious, or neurotic. So essentially boosting your gratitude, taking inventory of everything to be thankful for in your life is an easy hack to boosting happiness.

But what does being grateful do for us? Why is it so beneficial? There's 8 reasons: 1. promoting the savoring of positive life experiences 2. improved self worth and esteem 3. helps cope w/ stress & trauma 4. moral judgment/behavior improves 5. being grateful helps nurture existing and new relationships with people 6. decrease social comparison 7. being grateful inherently prevents many negative attitudes such as anger and 8. this might be the most important, it helps prevent hedonistic adaptation. This concept is HUGE. Being mindful and maintaining gratitude lets you avoid taking amazing things and people for granted. If you just got married and get an otherwise temporary happiness boost, if you remain overwhelmingly grateful, you will actively do things to consistently bolster that happiness and engage more with your new spouse as to not forget how great they are. Thus, preventing you from just adapting to this new thing in your life, being married.

You can practice gratitude in a number of ways but it is important to remember to try and vary your strategies to keep things fresh and not feel like a chore. You can keep a gratitude journal, contemplate, or express gratitude directly to someone else.

Positive thinking and optimism is scientifically proven to increase immediate increases in positive moods and decrease physical ailments. This is shown in the "Best Possible Selves" experiment. Here you take 20-30 mins to visualize the best future version of yourself where all the hard work has payed off and everything has turned out the way you imagine it. You can also foster optimistic thinking by using a goals/subgoals diary . Another strategy is to "identify barrier thoughts", find your automatic pessimistic thoughts and then find ways to interpret them differently.

This connection between positive thinking and biological/physical ramifications shows support for the biopsychosocial model that health psychology has developed over the past couple decades. This model shows us the mediating effect prevalent in positive thinking and improved health. If we are more positive and optimistic, we are motivated to go and pursue/achieve our goals, improve our coping mechanisms, and improve our mood. These factors all reduce anxiety and chronic stress from developing which has scientific evidence to show causes in health deterioration.

The section on rumination was so enlightening for me... overthinking and meta anxiety are things i struggle with constantly. Self-focused rumination creates this negative feedback loop of thoughts where you just spiral down negative thoughts and it can stem from one mishap, the absence of proper coping mechanisms with stressors makes this issue much worse. Constantly overthinking makes you overall more self critical and pessimistic and prevents you from improving yourself. You can break the cycle by learning some coping mechanisms, and you know what helps boost attainment of coping strategies? Gratitude exercises! Plenty of strategies exist to immediately stop overthinking, distraction, the "stop!" technique, set aside 30 minutes and schedule time to overthink (when the time comes to actually think you will find it unnatural to do so), talk to a trusted person in your life, and writing out your thoughts in a diary helps too! Breaking the cycle is the most important part of stopping ruminating. From there we can act to solve the problems that cause the overthinking.

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lavanderlumien · 2 years ago

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this is Ray!

Ray was one of my other characters I wanted to use in the animation but ended up not being able to use them because of time restrictions and stuff. I do want to fix up the actual animation at least a bit before posting it online tho, since atm I honestly don't like it that much and am pretty upset with myself that I had to down the quality to just be able to give it in inn time.

ANYWAY!

Ray is a 23 year old student studying divination at the academy of global witchcraft. Unlike Fay, Ray doesn't know what to do after collage with their degree. That is because Ray is just absolutely very interested in divination and can't get enough of it, they want to learn as much as possible about it and if possible master it. So their focus is more on learning rather then getting the final degree. You can hardly get Ray's attention when they are hyperfocusing on studying. Their most frustrating kind of divination is Tarot cards, and they are struggling a lot more with that compared to the other kinds.

Ray also unlike Fay, comes from a witch family and so has been around the craft all their life. But wasn't to interested in it before the age of 17, when Ray found out about divination while visiting a carnival that was in town. Ray got memorized by it then and there, and wanted to learn more. Their Mothers being very supportive and getting them enrolled in the town's local 2 year witch study, when they turned 19. Before taking the tests to get into the global academy of witchcraft.

Even tho Ray is very interested in studying they do scramble around a little sometimes, and at times end up in the wrong classes because of it. But has never gotten in trouble of it as AGW doesn't take attendance. That is also how Ray and Fay met, one time when Ray accidentally went to Fay's class. Since Fay is very upservant she noticed that Ray wasn't in this class before and sat down beside them in a 5 min break to ask them. When Ray realized it was the wrong class they laughed it off and thanked Fay before leaving. Ray seeing Fay again at lunch break and decided to sit with her friend group for lunch.

And ever since then they have been hanging out in breaks and after classes. As well as that Ray for Yule invited Fay to come with to their family to celebrate as Fay doesn't have contact with their family anymore. So they have kind of become like sisters since then.

#wicthcraft #digitalart #digital drawing #oc #oc art #oc story #character design

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hurricanenamjoon · 8 years ago

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tagged by the super-cute @caiider who gives me url envy ♥ Thank you!

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: single FAVOURITE COLOURS: blue, pale orange/yellow PETS: none :( WAKE-UP TIME: 5:15 am D; CATS OR DOGS: both CHAPSTICK OR LIPSTICK: chapstick LAST SONG I LISTENED TO: “Sonata No.3 in B Minor for Piano, Op.58 I. Allegro Maestoso” by Chopin according to my computer, “Lord Knows” by Meek Mill according to my phone ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

RANDOM TAG GAME: rules: go to this website: www.random.org/lists and pick 15 of your bias/faves 1. MUM/DAD: Jhope 2. SIBLING: Jooheon 3. GRANDMA/GRANDPA: Wheein 4. HAUNTS YOU: Scoups 5. GIRLFRIEND/BOYFRIEND: Sanha bro i don’t think this shit is legal 6. YOUR EX: BM 7. YOUR BEST FRIEND: Jae :D 8. PROPOSED TO YOU: Amber asdfljgfl 9. YOUR BOSS: Jackson 10. RANDOM PERSON YOU MEET AT THE BAR: Pinky 11. RIVAL: Hani :// 12. FIRST KISS: Dino 13. SUGARHIGH AND SINGING KARAOKE: Rap Monster 14. PLAYED 7 MINUTES IN HEAVEN WITH: Bora yes??pls?? 15. GAVE YOU YOUR FAVOURITE DESSERT: Jamie :)

5 COOL FACTS: rules: give out 5 interesting, strange, weird, cool, dope af, bizarre facts about yourself. it can be absolutely anything! and then tag 10 people that you’d like to know more about! keep it going! ❤️ 1. I’ve played the piano and violin for almost a decade now so I listen to a lot of classical music because of it 2. I can barely understand any of my native tongue but I know just enough to get past scrutiny from my relatives 3. I think competence and passion are hella attractive. 4. I like all genres of music except for country. 5. I dream of being financially secure enough to support a leonberger.

TOP 15 KPOP SONGS OF 2016:

(in no specific order)

1. Mamamoo - Moderato 2. Agust D - The Last 3. BTS - Cypher Pt. 4 4. Seventeen (Hiphop Unit) - Check In 5. Paloalto ft. Dean and Sway D - Fancy 6. Dean - Bonnie and Clyde 7. Jay Park - All I Wanna Do 8. MINO - BODY 9. Simon Dominic - Who You 10. Monsta X - Sweetheart 11. Wonder Girls - Why So Lonely 12. Zico and Suran - Pride and Prejudice 13. Yezi - Cider 14. Seventeen - Love Letter 15. BTS - I NEED U (urban remix)

NICKNAME: En GENDER: Female STAR SIGN: Capricorn HEIGHT: 166ish cm, ~5.5 TIME RIGHT NOW: 10:07pm LAST THING GOOGLED: trochophore larvae FAVOURITE BANDS: mostly kpop FAVOURITE SOLO ARTISTS: Meek Mill, Cello Gonzales, Dean... SONG STUCK IN YOUR HEAD: Pour Up - Dean LAST MOVIE WATCHED: Arrival LAST TV SHOW YOU WATCHED: Archer WHEN DID YOU CREATE YOUR BLOG: idek WHAT KIND OF STUFF DO YOU POST: kpop, bts-centered WHEN DID YOUR BLOG REACH ITS PEAK: nope DO YOU HAVE ANY OTHER BLOGS: yep DO YOU GET ASKS REGULARLY: no :( WHY YOU CHOSE YOUR URL: min yoongi --> min suga --> min salty FOLLOWING: 300 POSTS: 1,000-something HOGWARTS HOUSE: Ravenclaw POKEMON TEAM: Mystic FAVOURITE COLOURS: blue AVERAGE HOURS OF SLEEP: 4-5 hrs LUCKY NUMBERS: 14 FAVOURITE CHARACTERS: nog enough space here fam WHAT ARE YOU WEARING RIGHT NOW: grey tee, red pajama pants, purple fuzzy socks color coordination on point HOW MANY BLANKETS DO YOU SLEEP WITH: 4 DREAM JOB: idek DREAM TRIP: London, Tokyo

A - AGE: :/ B - BIGGEST FEAR: failure C - CURRENT TIME: 10:22pm D - DRINK YOU LAST HAD: water E - EVERY DAY STARTS WITH: me oversleeping F - FAVOURITE SONG: this question is not ok G - GHOSTS, ARE THEY REAL?: idk man but it would be hype H - HOMETOWN: cali

I - IN LOVE WITH: ??? J - JEALOUS OF: successful people with a social life K - KILLED SOMEONE: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ L - LAST TIME YOU’VE CRIED: yesterday M - MIDDLE NAME: nmn N - NUMBER OF SIBLINGS: 1 O - ONE WISH: for people i care about and myself to achieve contentment P - PERSON YOU’VE LAST CALLED / TEXTED: my mom :)) Q - QUESTIONS YOU’RE ALWAYS ASKED: “how old are you?” R - REASONS TO SMILE: + S - SONGS LAST SANG: Respect - Aretha Franklin T - TIME YOU WOKE UP: 5:20am U - UNDERWEAR COLOR: of all the things that start with u V - VACATION DESTINATION: idk W - WORST HABIT: trembling when i’m nervous (messes me up at recitals and stuff) X - X-RAYS YOU’VE HAD: arms, legs, teeth Y - YOUR FAVOURITE FOOD: dumplings Z - ZODIAC SIGN: capricorn

ARMY TAG: WHO WAS YOUR FIRST BIAS WHEN YOU FIRST STARTED STANNING BTS? Yoongi WHO IS YOUR CURRENT BIAS? Rapmon sunshine kid hobi is creeping tho WHAT IS YOUR FAVOURITE BANGTAN BOMB? sope’s legendary practice sessions WHAT IS YOUR FAVOURITE BTS SONG? cypher pt. 3, MAMA WHICH MEMBER IS YOUR BIAS WRECKER? all of them WHICH MEMBER APPEARS IN YOUR DREAMS THE MOST? none of them-- i’m jealous of people who actually dream abt them :// WHAT IS YOUR FAVOURITE BTS MV? not today WHICH BTS CHOREOGRAPHY DO YOU DANCE TO MOST OFTEN? i’m a freaking jin rapmon dancer ok i don’t dance HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN AN ARMY? right after I NEED U WHICH ALBUM TRACKLIST IS YOUR FAVOURITE HYYH Epilogue WHICH ALBUM ART IS YOUR FAVOURITE? HYYH Epilogue WHICH MEMBER WOULD YOU CHOSE TO BE YOUR HUSBAND? none of them, i’m not into the self-hatred of being married to someone infinitely better than me

I tag: @fluffynoi, @pianorahrah, @restingbiitchface, @minghaeo, @sterotypicalsunshine, @locomocolove, @jungoogi, @gyupeach, @producerwooji no pressure tho <3

#tagged #what has a 5 min study break turned into #this legit took me like an hour #about

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wecandoit · 3 years ago

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These are the things I do when I’m utilising my time to the max. I’ll be 100% honest and say that I haven’t been doing these all the time recently, and as a result I’ve been having terrible time management. But at least that proves these tips work for me. I really do think that some of these will work for you too.

🍓Early starts: Note, this is more of a motivation thing rather than a productivity thing. Besides the generally having to wake up early for school/work, I recommend you get early starts even on your days off. Most people would say to wake up and be productive, but it’s totally fine to just lounge around and do nothing, especially when you don’t have major plans for the day. That’s the beauty of waking up early––you can have time for yourself and still get the day’s tasks done. Basically, you have more time to waste (honestly why am I even a studyblr?) Although, be warned, if you choose to lounge around, this could ruin your tone for the whole day. My advice would be to not go too hardcore on the work as soon as you get up, but instead ease yourself into it slowly.

🍓 Hydration: You’ve probably had people drill this into you so many times but as soon as you wake up, drinking at least a full glass of water is essential. After a night’s sleep you’ve had a solid few hours (ideally) of absolutely no water, so you are super-dehydrated. I didn’t realise how thirsty I was in the morning but I started drinking one full glass every morning and it’s definitely refreshing as hell, and gets me in an altogether less drowsy mood

🍓Brush teeth: I hate morning breath and that gross taste in your mouth when you wake up. That is literally the only reason this is on the list. I feel so much more put together once I brush my teeth. Even after lunch or something, whenever your mouth tastes weird, just brush your teeth or even gargle some mouthwash or something. Nobody needs to be stuck at a desk smelling their own stinky mouth for hours on end.

🍓Apps: A lot of people use the 25:5 min Pomodoro timers but I personally like a larger work time frame so don’t really use them. I use 1Focus on my Macbook into which you can add in websites and apps that you want to block while you work. It works a treat, but be aware, you can’t turn it off, just in case you realise you’re going to need to open up a blocked app. [EDIT: I actually found a loophole to this so msg me if u wanna know] I also use Toggl or (recently) Yeolpumta which are more a motivational thing for me. These apps allows you to track your time throughout the day so you can see how much time you’re not utilising. With Yeolpumta you can also join lil study groups and if you’re competitive, use other people’s study times as your motivation. Also, you can find a lot of good compilations of useful apps on online servers or drives. (I’ll have links at the end of this post)

🍓 Study With Me: This one may not work for everyone but I discovered these worked SO WELL for me. Study with me videos can be found on Youtube and you can find a whole range of them, but I prefer the long 1-2 hour ones with breaks and no music. I watch the videos by @elloitsangela and sometimes @Merve on YT and they’re awesome. You can also find ones with background music if you prefer, but I like to listen to my own music or none at all.

🍓Motivation: Majorly links to the last point. I know I know I know that everyone has pretty much worked out that for long-term projects and goals, the key is to understand that staying on task is about discipline not motivation. But as much as you can tell yourself this, it’s almost impossible to stay disciplined when you have no motivation in you–– the two are intrinsically linked.The typical advice is to think of your goals, but motivation for everyone is different, and even really shallow points of motivation, like looking at pretty studyspo on Pinterest might give you that push, especially when you don’t know what exactly you’re working towards.

🍓 Music: While we’re on the topic of music, I think there are situations where music can be helpful and other times when it is just distracting. It really does depend on the work that you’re doing. Generally, people find it very hard to focus with music, when they’re working on understanding concepts, and coming up with logic-based ideas. Less mentally demanding and creative tasks tend to be completed more efficiently with music so if your priority is getting things done fast rather than comprehension, music is great. A cautionary note: I recommend you find songs that don’t make you want to stop what you’re doing and just bop along, as tempting as it can be. Classical, lo-fi, dubstep, EDM or jazz tends to work well for a lot of people.

🍓 Planning: I keep a bullet journal and use it to list out all the tasks I want to get done. However, this may be tedious for some. Alternatives you could use are just a simple notebook in which you jot down the days tasks. Or to-do lists work as well. Other people may find online planners or apps work better for them than physical methods and for those people, I will link a drive below for nice compilation of management apps/sites. A tip for to-do lists is to break big tasks into small tasks and put them on ur list. This especially helps with mental health because big tasks can be overwhelming and you may feel you’re not getting anything done, even when you are.

🍓 Productive incentives: I try to make the way I reward myself as productive as possible by combining the reward with a chore. Lately I’ve been having to do a work around the house, so finding time to relax between studying and chores is hard. I’ve found that by doing my chores while watching a movie, or reading a book, or listening to music/podcasts, I can really utilise my time. That way, chores feel less like chores and more like time off. This is also useful because you feel like you’ve taken a break after doing your chores and can be motivated to get back to study/work.

🍓 Setting: This one is mainly in regard to temperature. Finding the optimal temperature, I’ve found, is pivotal to how productive I am. I usually struggle with focusing a lot when it’s too hot, because I work better at a cooler temperature (Australian summers hit hard). You may find it better to work in a hotter environment, though, and really it’s all down to experience. I suggest having a heater or cooler in the room, or if you work outside of home, find a place with the right heat. And I guess this is a given, but find a study space where you won’t be distracted by the people and things around you.

🍓Google drives (the holy grail): I kid you not, you can find literally any self-study resources on a google drive. Not only self-study but even useful links for time management, productivity, motivation, etc. I find these usually on tumblr, reddit, or from study groups. I’ll include a few resources and links at the end of this post and I’ll upload a separate post with more resources if you think it would be helpful.

🍓 Desk space: I will tell you right now that I cannot, for the life of me, clear my desk space up properly. Like, I just can’t. I always feel like I need my planner, my drink, my caddy, my entire pencil case, sticky notes, and a whole lot more on my desk with me. I know I don’t need any of these, but I can’t seem to put them away, probably because I always clear things away and ended up needing to pull it back out. So what I do to clear my desk space is put away all my books that are from subjects I’m not focusing on. I don’t pack them away or anything, I just get them off my desk. Everything else stays on. Obviously if you can properly clear your desk space, you should do that. But if you’re like me, give this a shot.

🍓 Online study groups: This one is suited for a very specific type of learner, I think, so take it with a grain of salt. There are a whole lot of groups, whether it be a Tumblr chat, a Discord server, a Whatsapp group, that are made by lovely human beings who want to join forces in their work/study life. Finding one that really fits your interests and needs can be extremely helpful and motivational. The members in these group can give advice, keep you accountable and motivate and inspire you to work hard to reach your goals

This is my list so far. I’ve had this sitting in my drafts for a solid six months now so I’m well and truly sure they are my best tips. If you have anything else that you swear by, feel free to add on to this list in reblogs, or message me and I’ll edit the post myself. Obviously, different things work for different people, but as someone who gets really easily distracted and bored, these are all the things I can offer you.

These may be really obvious to some of you, but I also know that they’re not to everyone (because they weren’t to me), so please boost this post any way you can, I’d really appreciate it and I bet others will too :)

Some really helpful apps/links: • Yeolpumta for Apple or Android + an invite to my study group on Yeolpumta • 1Focus (I think this is only for Mac but not too sure) • Toggl Track for Apple or Android/PC • Z-lib in case you’ve been living under a rock: has almost every book ever published (including textbooks) • Project Gutenberg: more free ebooks • Openculture: a bunch of free audiobooks (and not just niche ones) • Librivox: more free audiobooks • PDF Library: literally a library PDFs (books, guides, articles, anything) • OEDb: find online courses in American colleges • Khan Academy: for help with literally any subject (I used it for maths and chem); also offers online courses • Wiley: find open access journal/research articles • Elsevier: more open access journal articles • Medical Study Zone: texts and resources for medical students • Megafolder of textbooks/resources for culture and language studies by @salvadorbonaparte (literally ilysm) • Memrise: language learning that’s not just duolingo • Books and resources about Medieval Europe • Gender/queer studies drive by @genderebels (ilysm) • Guide to learning how to code by @boomeyer • Recovering unsaved drafts from Microsoft Word • Writing essays with half the stress by @wittacism • List of words and synonyms to use in your writing so you can stop being basic • Massive list of literary techniques by @emmastudies • Masterpost of apps and extensions for productivity and self care by @mujistudies

(I’ve got a lot more links to drives for more university level textbooks, movies, animes, comics, music, etc. so if u need, hmu)

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heroes-feasting · 3 years ago

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Baked Feta Wrap

I’ll make a better pub night, with chicken and feta! - Me

Who doesn’t love a night with friends after a long week? Whether you’re meeting up with a large group or settling in with a few close friends, it’s always nice to take some time to unwind and catch up. You know what we all don’t love? Expensive prices at bars and pubs. So, why not bring the vibe of pub night home and save some cash!

Popularized on TikTok back in 2020, the original tomato-feta sauce took the app by storm and spawned a whole batch of variations. Although I can’t find it anymore, the most interesting, to me, was from a woman roasting her cheating SO while turning this tasty sauce into a wrap (disguising the elastic as olives? Oof).

So, as midterm season comes to a close (or reaches its penultimate), this recipe is sure to make some great, easy snackables to kick off either a study sesh or a night out. Or, make your friends jealous by bringing it with you to school for an eating-out-style lunch without having to spend the cash!

Cheating SOs dni.

VEGETARIAN? No problem! Check out the results section for how to make this recipe work for you!

(Adapted from Rachael Ray’s recipe and the TikTok mentioned in the intro)

Prep: 5 mins Cook: 1h 30 mins Overall: 1h 35 mins*

* Will take 1h 15 mins time if not allowing the sauce to fully cool.

Ingredients*:

½ cup (118 ml) olive oil

2 pints (550 g) cherry tomatoes

One 8-ounce (225 g) block feta

2 cloves garlic, finely chopped

¼ tsp. (0.5 g) red pepper flakes

4 large fresh basil leaves, chopped (or 1 handful of smaller ones)

Salt and pepper

1.5 pounds (750 g) chicken strips

1 box (142 g) baby spinach

24 medium (not mini) whole-wheat tortillas

* Makes enough for ~24 medium wraps (8-12 servings).

To start, preheat oven to 400℉ (204℃) and move the oven rack to the middle.

In a baking dish, toss the olive oil, whole cherry tomatoes, salt, and pepper until all tomatoes are coated (above-left).

Next, add the feta to the middle of the baking dish. On top of the feta, add a splash of olive oil and some pepper (above-right).

Place in the oven and bake for 30 minutes.

NOTE: I used 2 blocks of feta so I put olive oil and pepper on each block and stacked them.

While the tomatoes and feta bake, prepare the chicken.

To remove extra juices on the outside (and prevent the strips from sticking to the skillet) blot both sides of the chicken strips with a clean paper towel.

Then, sprinkle both sides with salt and pepper and lightly massage it in.

Next, heat 1 tbsp. olive oil in a non-stick skillet over medium heat until shimmering. Add chicken strips to the pan and allow to cook for 4-5 minutes a side until the inside is no longer pink and the internal temp reads 165℉ (74℃).

After cooking, remove skillet from heat and move the chicken to a plate to rest.

After 30 minutes in the oven, increase the heat to 450℉ (232℃) and bake for another 5-10 minutes or until the tomatoes and feta have browned.

Once everything has browned, remove the baking dish from the oven and add the chopped garlic and red pepper flakes. Break apart the feta block and stir so the residual heat cooks the garlic and incorporates the flavour from the red pepper flakes.

Unlike the pasta recipe, your goal here is to make sure everything is incorporated and has cooled down a little before assembling the wraps. It will take ~10 minutes to incorporate the sauce and then another ~20 minutes to cool. I recommend placing the baking dish on a wire rack to help it cool faster. If you’re in a rush, you can make the wraps with the warm sauce right after incorporating everything but it will be much harder to roll the wraps.

You’ll know the sauce is ready when you don’t see large streaks of olive oil while stirring or clinging to the sides of the baking dish.

NOTE: I recommend placing a kitchen towel or paper towel under the baking dish as you stir. I’ve made this several times now and always manage to stir a little too hard and spill some olive oil. Best to cut the spillage mess off at the pass.

TIP: Take the time when the sauce is cooling to clean the dishes created in earlier steps!

Stir in the chopped basil leaves once the sauce has cooled and everything has been incorporated.

To assemble the wraps, place a medium tortilla on a clean surface and layer a handful of spinach leaves on one side. Spoon ~1 tbsp. of sauce over the spinach and spread it out a little using the back of the spoon. Place a chicken strip over the sauce (above-left).

To wrap it up, fold the edge with the filling tightly around the chicken. Push in the corners and fold in the top and bottom edges. Continue to wrap everything tightly and fold in the corners that are created as you roll (above-right).

Overall, I would give this recipe a 5/5. Served warm or cold, the infamous sauce lends itself really well to being used in wrap form.

Although you may feel a little impatient while incorporating the sauce, the flavour is absolutely worth it (as is not just taking a bite of pure olive oil). Don’t skip the spinach either! The sauce is very rich and, although just using 1 tbsp. helps a little, the greens are really what stops it from becoming overbearing.

VEGETARIAN? The chicken inside can easily be substituted for Beyond Meat alternatives. However, if you’d like to change it up, reduce the amount of sauce used and pack the wrap with your favourite bagged salad! I’ve done this a couple times now and it’s tasted great!

#if anyone knows the tiktok i'm talking about feel free to send or reply with it #cooking #homecooking #homecook #comfort food #night out #eating in #lunch #dinner #heroes feasting #recipe #recipes #vegetarian option #tiktok #wrap #cheese #food #foodblr

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streetlight11 · 3 years ago

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Till I Met You Again

Summary: Everyone is born with a life already planned out for them. Including their soulmates. Except, every person walking this earth has been given a specific soulmate marking that was similar to a tattoo to match their soulmate’s. The ink is invisible when one is born. To activate the soulmate marking, one has to be at least in a 20 feet radius to their designated soulmate. But of course, they wouldn’t know it until they start to notice the ink slowly appearing on their skin.

Theme: soulmate au, university au, enemies to lovers

Genre: angst, fluff

Warning: mild cursing

WC: 10k

Pairing: Soulmate!Yoongi x Fem!Reader

a/n: Hello! I kinda got too carried away in writing this one the other day, hence the word count for this is... woah. Hehe. But anyways, here's a soulmate au for you Min Yoongi lovers <3

Every person who was born into this earth has their life journey already written out for them in which it unfortunately remains a secret from them. And these living souls have been entitled to a soulmate that would potentially cross their path in the near future. Everyone is made for someone and the tattoo on their skin otherwise known as a ‘soulmate marking’ determines it for them.

The soulmate marking is nothing far from a tattoo as it imprints on your skin for eternity.

However, these markings will already be on you the minute you were born. Except, the ink will be invisible to the human eye.

But it’s definitely there. The only way to activate the marking is when one happens to be of 20 foot radius with their designated soulmate. This will cause the ink to start slowly appearing on one’s skin. Even so, these markings will start only when one has reached the age of 14. Only then will the ink start to be visible to one’s eye.

Unfortunately, until now when you’re already past 20 years of age, not a single tinge of ink was displayed on your skin. You’ve checked everywhere on your body. From your fingertips to your toes.

Nothing.

You weren’t really one who purely believed in this whole soulmate thing simply because you felt that there’s no such thing as a fixed soulmate. You should be free to choose who you want as your partner purely through interactions and chemistry you shared with the other, not by some marking on your skin. Your parents had a matching mark on their right wrists which was a simple rose in a glass jar.

No doubt you admired their love story and how they met, but you couldn’t see it for yourself. You really don’t want to fully depend on this supposed marking. Even when you went off to college, you’ve made it a point to try and go on dates no matter what their soulmate markings would be.

But it all turned out with the same ending. Either the guy dumps you for not having the same mark or they ghost you after the first date, saying you’re too good for them. All these never led to a heartbreak on your end because you were never in love to begin with.

You were simply trying your luck, trying to see if you’d find a single soul who was just as sceptical as you on this whole soulmate thing.

And so far, you’ve met none.

It was the start of university life for you as you’ve managed to enrol yourself for a Computer Science major in Hangang University. You took the same course during college, having interest in web design and computer technologies. You could only hope that the study load this time would give you a mental break every once in a while despite knowing the content is definitely heavier than college content.

But you still told yourself to persevere and never leave your knowledge hanging while you’re still young. With this mentality, you brought yourself to campus today for day one of university classes.

Taking a deep breath, you pushed the door to the specific lecture room for the first lesson.

Immediately, you were greeted by a room that had the majority of the students’ gender being males. But it wasn’t a surprise to you because CS majors tend to lean more towards males instead of females. This doesn’t bother you since you were here solely to study and perhaps make friends along the way.

You found an empty seat in the top last few rows. With careful steps, you climbed the stairs to make your way to the spot you had your eyes locked on. After you’ve settled down, you noted how the room was fairly quiet.

Probably because it was the first day of classes and nobody really knows each other yet. That was all pushed to the back of your mind when you heard chatting coming from the front door and you saw 2 friends walk in. It was pretty obvious they knew each other considering how they were laughing and talking freely to one another.

As you kept your curious gaze on them discreetly, you could only realise how good looking they were.

The taller one sported beautiful dark brown locks that were long enough to cover his eyes, his smile so charming you were sure anyone who crossed his path would fall for his smile in less than a second. And then there was the other one who sported a more edgy look with his shorter dark purple, undercut hair that was parted near the centre to show his forehead, a right eyebrow piercing to compliment his face.

You quickly diverted your gaze to your laptop screen, not wanting them to think you’re a creep. You were busy searching for the e-books for this lesson in your online school portal when you heard a gentle voice calling to you from your right.

“Hey, are these seats taken?”

You looked up to see the one with the eyebrow piercing staring at you with the softest smile on his face.

In response to his question, you simply mimicked his facial expression and shook your head at him. He thanked you quietly before the 2 of them settled down beside you down the row. They resumed their conversation for the next 3 minutes before the lecturer walked in to start the class.

Two hours later, you don’t even know how you managed to absorb the things your lecturer said but you did. You were typing out the notes he shared on the projector screen when you heard his voice through the speakers.

“I will let you go for your lunch break. Be back by 1pm, here. You can leave your bags behind since I will be locking the room once everyone leaves.”

With that, your classmates replied with a series of yes before they got up one by one ready to head for lunch. You were just typing out the last of your notes when the boy beside you spoke up. At first you thought he was talking to his friend. You completely missed the way he was turned to you.

Until he gently taps onto your forearm to tell you that his question was directed to you. With a turn of your head, you locked eyes with him for the second time that day. “H-Huh?” You stuttered, earning a stifled chuckle from him.

“I was saying, do you wanna join me and my friends for lunch? We’re already sharing classes, might as well get to know each other to prepare for future projects or assignments.” He kindly repeated himself for you, making you whisper a soft ‘oh’ under your breath.

It wasn’t like you to approach someone first when it comes to striking a conversation with a complete stranger. So when he did it for you, it surprised you that he even thought of letting you tag along with them to lunch. For this alone, you decided to accept his offer knowing he does have a point for that last statement.

With that being said, the three of you left the lecture room after bringing your wallets with you. You quietly followed beside the brown haired one as they immediately opened a topic for their conversation.

You were just checking your phone for the texts sent from your mom in your family group chat when a voice spoke up, addressing you directly.

“What’s your name?” You glance up to catch the one who asked the question was the brown haired one, as the purple haired one was already looking at you but it wasn’t intimidating in any way. So you found it easy to reply to them.

“Y/N.” You said as they all nodded only for the boy beside you to speak up. “Nice to meet you Y/N. I’m Taehyung. This is Jungkook.”

And so you know.

After almost 10 minutes of walking, you finally arrived at the cafeteria located on the other side of campus from where you originally were. The cafeteria was filled with hungry students and occupied tables. This wasn’t something new but at times like these, you’d rather bring your own food and sit somewhere that’s less crowded and bustling.

Just when you were about to excuse yourself and get a take out instead, Taehyung’s voice sounded from beside you, “Hyung said he found a table for us. They’re at the side near the drink stall.” He addressed it to the Jungkook in particular.

Hyung? Found a table? Did their other friends go to this same campus too?

You thought to yourself as Taehyung soon led the three of you around the cafeteria with you following behind them like a lost puppy.

You were busy looking at the available food stalls around when you were stopped by the voices that called out to the 2 boys’ names. Curious eyes wandered over their figures to see just who their other friends were and you were met with a table filled with relatively handsome guys.

There were 3 guys seated at that table, happily welcoming Taehyung and Jungkook. Just when you thought they had forgotten you, Jungkook turns around to show you to his friends.

“If you guys don’t mind, we made a new friend this morning and we invited her to join us for lunch. Her name is Y/N.” Jungkook announced as the three boys smiled at you warmly.

“Hey Y/N. I’m Namjoon, this is Seokjin and Hoseok. It’s nice to meet you.” Namjoon said as he stretched his hand out for you to shake in which you obliged. You definitely didn’t miss the intricate design of a floral arrow lining his inner forearm. That must’ve been his soulmate marking. You soon found yourself seated next to Hoseok and Jungkook after buying your meal.

You were chewing your noodles when Taehyung spoke up to catch everyone at that table’s attention, “Where are they? Shouldn’t their class be over already?”

“Apparently they just ended 5 minutes ago. Minie told me they’re on their way now.” Seokjin replied.

Who were the ‘they’ Taehyung was referring to?

Were there more of their friends?

Oh great.

You refocused on your food, taking a bite out of the chicken meat as you listened to their ‘first day of university’ story. You found out that Namjoon was a Psychology major, Hoseok was a Dance major and Seokjin was a Culinary major.

You were currently staring at the pile of vegetables that Taehyung so kindly transfers into your bowl, after he asked around on who wants the boiled carrots and broccoli to which you said yes.

Taehyung was passing you every last bit of vegetable to your bowl when a sweet voice spoke up from the end of the table nearest to Namjoon and Seokjin.

“Finally! I thought you’d never make it for lunch.” Namjoon laughed as you heard a much raspier voice speak up from the same spot.

“I wouldn’t miss lunch for the world.” You heard the others laugh when Taehyung finally finished clearing his plate off the vegetables before turning to the newcomers to say his hellos.

“Oh, by the way, we have a new addition to our circle. She’s in Taehyung and Jungkook’s class so they tagged her along for lunch.” Seokjin announced as he reached his arm behind Taehyung to place a soft hand on the top of your right shoulder. You finally looked up from your bowl to see who the newcomers were.

The first guy you locked eyes with had cute puffy cheeks, sporting a pretty dark blue hair colour as his bangs framed his face nicely.

“Oh hello. I’m Jimin.”

You smiled shyly at him before your eyes naturally travelled to the other individual standing right beside Jimin and that’s when you frowned.

Unsurprisingly, the male did too.

His hair was an ash grey colour that parted at the side to show his forehead instead of letting it cover his eyebrows like Hoseok’s did. He had a few piercings on each ear. If his physique was unrecognizable to you, at least his face was. You knew exactly who he was without having to ask him for confirmation.

“Yoongi?” His name rolled off your tongue effortlessly in a whisper, stirring reactions from the rest of them.

“Wait, you know each other?” Jimin asked in confusion as his eyes travelled back and forth between you and Yoongi. That’s when you heard the other scoff before locking his eyes with you.

“Never thought I’d see you again after all these years.” His expression was dry and almost unwelcoming unlike the smiles his other friends gave you upon your first meeting. “Never wished for this day to come either but here we are…” You said sarcastically.

The tension was so thick, you were sure you would have to cut it with a knife instead of a scissors.

You broke the gaze by standing up, claiming you’ve lost your appetite.

“I’ll see you guys in class.” You said, directing your words to your classmates before you snatched your phone and wallet off the table top along with your tray of food to return. With a quick glance to Yoongi, you ignored his burning glare as you shoved past him by the shoulders causing him to stumble back a little.

The table fell quiet as Seokjin was the first to break the awkward silence, “Well, that was unexpected.” Yoongi scoffed as he left the table to go buy his food, not bothering to wait for Jimin as his mind was clouded with the thought of you being in his circle of friends.

The history of you two goes way back when you were in both pre and high school. Your first ever dispute with him was in preschool, all because you were both fighting over the crayon box. And then gradually, more fights would happen over silly little things. It came to a point where your teacher would have to separate you from each other.

Your disputes continued after you found out that he just so happened to join the same high school as you, let alone the same class. It only made things worse. You two would bicker and fight almost everyday like a married couple.

Your friends teased you often with him for the amount of fights you got into with him. They’ve even grown accustomed to the harsh comments you had thrown to each other on a daily basis.

Not a day goes by without either him stepping on your tail or you having a payback for all the pranks he did on you to get you worked up. And yet, just when you thought you were free from seeing the devil himself again, life has its way with you and it bothers you to the core at this very instant.

Your lecturer arrived back at the lecture room 15 minutes before 1pm and it seemed like everyone else was still having lunch. All except you. “You’re here early? Have you had your lunch?” He asked as he proceeded to unlock the room while you lingered behind him, standing up after you saw him approaching from afar.

“Yeah, I did.” You smiled, stepping back into the room after he pushed the door open. You climbed the stairs again to where your belongings were, taking out your air pods to bury yourself in music.

Shutting out the world around as you rested your head in your arms on the table. You didn’t notice the people strolling into the lecture room, too busy drowning yourself in your own little bubble. All of it soon came crumbling when you felt a soft tap on your shoulder.

That’s when you look up to see the 2 of them back in their seats.

You glanced ahead to see that the lecturer had already flashed the new slides onto the projector screen which indicates the start of class again. So you took out your air pods and kept them in its case before tossing it into your bag.

Class resumed and your messy thoughts were shoved to the back of your mind, far away from your main focus right now which was your class.

After a dreadful 4 hours of lessons, your lecturer finally calls it a day. He reminded all of you to be punctual for class tomorrow, saying that he has some group discussions for the topic he would be teaching. Once everyone was dismissed, you kept your stuff back into your bag quietly.

You could tell the two boys were waiting for you since they hadn't moved a muscle from beside you despite already standing up and were just leaning against the table while they chatted. The minute you stood up, they pushed themselves off the table and only then did they start walking down the steps.

The three of you made it to ground level thanks to the operating lift, making your way to the parking lot that was right beside the campus entrance.

You were just talking to Jungkook about your hobbies when you noticed a group of 5 guys gathered at the steps of the campus grounds through your peripheral vision. You could only guess it was their friends due to the voice that calls out to those walking with you. They led you towards the bunch as you glanced over to everyone but him.

“Hey Y/N, how did you come here this morning?” Namjoon asked, his voice nothing but sincere.

“Public transport.” You said simply with a smile directed towards him, only for Seokjin to speak up, “Do you need a ride home? I can drive you?”

With that being said, you kindly shook your head with a smile, not wanting to offend him in any way for turning his offer down. “It’s fine, I can manage on my own. Thanks for the offer though. Maybe next time.” You said as you bid the rest of them goodbye, not bothering to look at the very person you’ve held your grudge on for years.

They watched as you turned in your heels and left, deadpanning your way to the front gates. Jimin sighed lightly before turning to Yoongi and asked for answers on why you and him weren’t on good terms.

But the latter only brushed Jimin off, saying he would explain some other time.

The rest of them soon dispersed to their own vehicles to head home after a long and tiring first day of university.

As more days began to pass, you were sometimes dragged by either one of your 2 classmates to hang out with their friends and girlfriends. If you weren’t mistaken, half of them already found their soulmates and were currently in a relationship with them. While the remaining half were still finding for theirs because it was either their soulmate markings had appeared on their skin but very faintly, or there was none at all.

But the amount of times you’ve recalled hanging out with them during the past three months were countable with your fingers. You avoided having lunch with them often ever since you found out Yoongi was in their circle. You didn’t want to seem petty but it seems like he too hated having you around.

Which means that the feelings were mutual on both ends.

It was a pretty warm day so right after you arrived back at your apartment, you headed straight for the showers. Slipping into the shower stream the minute your clothes were discarded.

The cold stream coating your shoulder down with it’s nice, cooling temperature to ease out the warmth in your body.

After you finished your shower, you took your towel from the rack and proceeded to wipe yourself dry. Stepping out of the cubicle, you walked over to the sink counter where your large mirror was glued onto the wall. As you were ruffling your hair with the towel to rid the excess water, you noticed something on your left rib through the reflection.

Is that…?

You glanced down at your skin to see a very faint outline of something on your skin. You blinked twice, not believing this.

When did it start showing?

Your mind was going feral at the thought of seeing your soulmate marking finally make its appearance onto your skin. Who was the cause of this? Why did it only appear now after all these years? If that’s the case then it means that your soulmate is someone from school.

“What am I thinking? This is all a load of crap. I can date whoever I want no matter what marking they have.” You said to no one in particular as you changed into your home attire.

A few days later, you were just in class alone in the morning. Taehyung and Jungkook had yet to arrive when a sudden voice from beside you made you jump. A soft curse emitted from your throat as you clutched to your chest from the minor heart attack. You turned to find one of your classmates whom you recalled his name to be Hanbin, towering over you to your left.

“Hey, I’m Hanbin.” He smiled at you, feeling your stomach get warm upon seeing him up close for the first time.

“Hey… I’m Y/N.”

“I don’t mean to be creepy or weird, but I’ve kind of noticed you going for lunch alone these days instead of with your friends?” He asked as he rubbed the back of his neck nervously. You somehow knew where this was going.

“Right… Well, that is true I suppose.” You chuckled awkwardly, looking away from him briefly before turning your attention back to him.

“I see. Well, if you’re looking for company, you can go for lunch with me?” He said it more like a statement instead of a question and that in itself made you smile. You had just accepted his kind offer when you heard familiar voices approaching to where you were seated.

Hanbin’s eyes glanced past your shoulder only to flicker back to you, setting a reminder before he left.

“Lunch with me later, yeah?”

You gave him a soft nod as a smile crept onto your lips. At the same time, you felt the soft nudge to your right elbow. You already knew who’s the culprit. “Wasn’t that Hanbin? What did he say to you?” Taehyung asked as he took a seat beside you.

“He asked me to go for lunch with him.”

“So you agreed?”

“Mhm.”

“You wanna go for lunch with him but not us?” Taehyung asked with a pout, only for Jungkook to lean over and ask what was going on. You could only roll your eyes at them, not actually annoyed or anything. Just a reflex whenever someone tried to get your sympathy over something stupid.

“Give me a break. I’m not sharing a table with ‘you know who’. Wouldn’t wanna accidentally break the table with our arguments.” You flashed him a sarcastic smile that made him click his tongue at you in disbelief.

It has been two months since you first went to lunch with Hanbin and you have been doing that ever since. You noticed that his demeanour was starting to change too around you, maybe there was a mutual feeling settling in between the two of you after all.

It was a Saturday afternoon and you already made plans with Hanbin a week prior. He wanted to bring you out on a date to the amusement park and then maybe grab some supper before heading home. He picked you up at your apartment that evening in his jeep, looking quite handsome if you say so yourself.

The two of you spent the evening together, adrenaline rushing through you thanks to the rides you took. After enjoying yourselves at the amusement park, you were both tired from having fun so he offered to stop by and grab supper with you before sending you home.

You ended up getting fast food at the diner downtown. You were happy. You were grateful that he was nothing but sweet to you. But for some reason, deep down there was that voice in you that was screaming, “He’s not the one” and you hated it. You didn’t want to rely on the marking to determine your happiness.

What if you belonged to someone who has a different marking than you?

That’s possible right?

So when he finally parked right outside your apartment complex, he turned off the engine leaving his key in the ignition. The car fell silent for a moment before you decided to be brave and spoke up.

“Do you… wanna come up for a bit? We can talk for a while longer?”

With that, Hanbin frowned as he wondered if he should. He didn’t want to ruin a first date and he most definitely did not want you to have a bad impression on him.

“Are… Are you sure?” He asked quietly, to which you nodded.

When you didn’t get a proper response, you simply let out a soft giggle followed by, “come on” before you opened his jeep door to board off the vehicle. You left him no choice but to follow after you. Once you’ve made it to your apartment, you unlocked your front door and stepped inside allowing him to enter.

It took him a while as his eyes travelled all over your cosy apartment, admiring the minimalist interior. You told him to take a seat while you went to get him a drink.

A few minutes passed and you were both just talking freely on your couch when you noticed how his eyes always flickered down to your lips constantly as you spoke. This made you stifle a giggle and he caught on. He apologized for it but you brushed it off.

Just then, the room felt quiet all of a sudden as it was your turn to glance down to his lips.

Hanbin softly smiled as he began to lean closer.

Your heart was pounding in your chest as you could feel his warmth radiating off his body from how close he was to you.

Right when you felt your head get dizzy from the close proximity, you unconsciously whispered against his lips something that you would never normally do.

“Kiss me.”

With that being said, he pressed his plump lips on yours.

Immediately intoxicating you with how sweet he tasted. The kiss slowly got heated as he carefully guided your body back to lay on the couch while he hovered over you. His hands slid past the hem of your shirt, resting on your waist as he caressed your skin.

You slide your hands up his chest, wrapping them around his neck. He slowly pushed your shirt up using his wrists. Right when he’d just pulled away for a breather, his eyes travelled down to your bare torso beneath him.

His gaze seemed stuck on whatever he was looking at. When you realized he stopped and was staring at something on your body, you knew exactly what he saw.

“Is that…?” His voice was soft, almost sounding as though he was upset.

“Yeap…”

With this confession, he slowly pulled away from you, tugging your shirt back down and bringing you to a sitting position.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t…” He began but you were quick to hush him.

“It’s okay… Besides, I should be the one saying sorry. I already saw your marking the other day when you wore a tank top to class. I just thought you’d be okay with dating someone who doesn’t share the same mark as you. I guess I was being selfish…” You said.

Hanbin remained quiet as he listened to your reasoning. Suddenly feeling bad for stopping whatever you two were sharing, so abruptly like that. With that, he reached out to hold your hand, telling him that he was still sorry for reacting that way and for hurting your feelings by doing so.

But he told you he didn’t regret taking you out on a date today, that he genuinely had a good time with you and that he would love to still be friends with you if you allowed him.

You smiled at him before turning your attention to the flower pot sitting on your coffee table only for him to continue, “I just hope that you’ll find someone who will love you for who you are, doesn’t matter the mark.” For that, you smiled again. Thanking him for being sweet and thoughtful.

After he left, you couldn’t help but sigh. This was already the umpteenth time this happened to you.

But you couldn’t stay mad at Hanbin for turning you down simply because he didn’t reject you the way your other ex dates did. That was the reason why you let him go without holding a grudge.

The next few weeks, you’ve gone to lunch on an alternate basis between Hanbin and the guys. And every time you went with the guys, you could only prepare yourself for the constant bickering with the one and only, Min Yoongi and today was no different.

You were sitting next to Namjoon at the end of the table with the only space left empty being beside you. And it was as though luck wasn’t on your side, the only human left to arrive for lunch was none other than Yoongi himself.

You were just sipping your green tea when you heard his voice approaching towards your side of the table.

“Sorry hyung, that’s the only seat left.” Jungkook smiled sympathetically to the elder as you made it a point to not spare a glance over to him. You could hear his grunt of disapproval but nonetheless plopped his bag down on the chair before disappearing to buy his food.

When he did come back, you had just gotten a whole chunk of chocolate fudge cake shoved into your mouth by Taehyung who was seated opposite you.

You were unable to pull the dangling piece of cake into your mouth so you tilted your head back. But instead of the cake entering your mouth, it ended up falling into your hands when you felt your head crash into something behind you.

And the hiss just told you who it was.

“Watch it before I spill hot soup on you.” Yoongi said as he placed the bowl of steaming noodle soup on the table top beside your tray.

“Don’t worry because I’ll make sure it spills on you too.” You challenged him back, earning a glare from him.

You heard a few sighs coming from some of the guys but you couldn’t care less. You busied yourself by scrolling through your social media in hopes that the time would just pass by quicker so that you can be away from him after lunch ends.

A few days later, you had just finished your shower when you noticed your mark slowly growing more and more opaque. To which you could finally see the design of it.

It was a dream catcher.

A pretty one at that. You softly traced your finger over the outline of the detail, keeping your eye on the reflection. Just then, a soft sigh left your lips.

This means that your designated soulmate has supposedly crossed your path more than once. But seeing how the ink is getting darker with each passing day, could only mean that if not often, this person is near you at least more than 3 times a week.

A week went by and Jungkook had invited you to his birthday slash pool party that weekend. He invited only the guys and some of their girlfriends. You’ve met the girlfriends a few times and they’ve all been pretty sweet to you so far. All of them are so down to earth. You told Jungkook you’ll be there, earning a happy soft clap from him when you said so.

On the day of the party, you had just finished your shower when you noticed the water droplets underneath you weren’t clear. You looked harder only to realize those weren’t water.

It was blood.

“Great… Thanks mother nature…” You huffed as you went to get your feminine item from your cupboard. After successfully changing into the attire you chose for the day, you tied your hair into a messy ponytail before leaving your bathroom.

You wore simple denim shorts and a loose shirt tucked into your jeans.

When you actually made it to Jungkook’s house, you were surprised to know that he was living in a one story house with a built-in pool ready when he moved in.

Apparently his parents were pretty wealthy people so they bought this house for him, saying it would give him the opportunity to take responsibility in keeping the house clean and tidy rather than his mother having to do it for him all the time.

You called Jungkook’s phone only for him to pick up on the second ring. You told him you were at his front gate so he hung up the call and rushed over to you.

Once you were inside his beautiful compound, he brought you towards the back through his side garden. Distinct voices gradually get louder the nearer you get to them. The minute you turned round the corner, you instantly saw more than half of them in the pool including the ladies.

Seokjin and Taehyung were over at the barbeque grill, cooking the meat for everyone. There was a table filled with all kinds of snacks and sweet drinks. It was a full on pool party.

Just then, a familiar voice rings in your ear already knowing it belonged to Hoseok.

“Y/N! You made it! Come join us!”

You stopped at one of the chairs only to put your sling bag down and apologized to him, “Sorry to burn the mood, but I can’t. Monthly calls.” You could hear some whines and sad pouts forming on some of their faces right after.

“Aww man, that’s a total bummer.” Jimin said, making you shrug.

However, you noticed a figure leaning against the wall on the other side of the pool just blankly staring at you. That’s when you glanced over to see Yoongi. You held your stare for a moment before you turned away. Missing the way he was still staring at you even when you were making your way to Seokjin and Taehyung.

A few minutes later, you were just talking to Jiyeon who was taking a break from being in the pool. You sat facing each other but from where you were seated, your back was facing the grilling pit.

Jiyeon was just talking to you about baking when you noticed someone swimming to the side that was aligned with where you were sitting.

Only to realize it was Yoongi.

He placed his hands on the edge of the pool and soon pushed himself upwards. You watched as water flowed down his body effortlessly. Cursing yourself for even staring at his shirtless form. He pushed his wet hair out of his face, resulting in him having sort of a slick back hairstyle.

He was too busy talking to Hoseok and Jungkook who were still in the pool, his head completely turned away from you.

Right when you were about to look away, your eyes caught sight of the imprinted ink on his left rib. You didn’t think much of it as you turned away from him. But then something in your brain ticked you off like a time bomb. So you carefully turned back to him just a few feet away from you.

That’s when you saw it.

The dream catcher on his left rib is so prominent and bold against his milky skin. Not to mention his toned abs. A soft gasp left your lips as he walked past you without sparing a single glance at you.

But you didn’t mind it. You were glad he didn’t see how shocked you were because if it did, he would have said something about it.

So instead, you just got up and left, entering Jungkook’s home through the glass doors frantically. You rushed in and went straight to the said destination. Once inside, you took a moment to steady your breathing as you brought your gaze up to the long mirror that laid upon you on the wall landscape.

You carefully pulled your shirt up to expose the ink on your own skin. You could only stare at it through the reflection before looking down at your own torso and gently tracing your finger over the outer rim of the dream catcher’s hoop.

You didn’t know how long you were gone for. It wasn’t until a voice broke your train of thoughts.

“Was it really necessary to rush into someone’s house like-”

However, his speech got stuck in his throat when his eyes flickered over to the reflection in the mirror. No it wasn’t your face he was staring at. It wasn’t the soap bottles lining Jungkook’s sink.

It was your mark on your left rib.

You swiftly pulled your shirt down to hide it from him from seeing any more details of it. With quick hasty steps, you turned to leave the bathroom and had barely taken a step out into the hallway when he grabbed your wrist and pulled you back to face him.

“Show me.” He said firmly.

“Show you what?”

“Don’t play dumb, you know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“I- I don’t know what you mean-”

Without warning, Yoongi used his free hand to lift your shirt up to stop right below your bra line as his hands naturally cupped your sides to keep your shirt there. He finally caught a clear look of the inked design on you, seeing how familiar it looked to him.

You could’ve sworn you saw his eyes flicked wider for just a millisecond before it went back to its original state.

For some reason, your lung felt restricted and your heart dropped upon seeing the same mark on his skin at the same exact spot as yourself. You wanted to run away. All you wanted to do now was to be as far away from him as you can.

So you slapped his hands away, making him lose his grip on you before you turned around to leave.

He grabbed your wrist again but this time, you mustered whatever strength you had left to yank your arm from him. Tears stinging your eyes as it threatens to fall, yet you don’t fully understand why.

“Don’t! J-Just… leave me alone… please.” Your voice falls into a whisper as you rush to the backyard, ignoring their worried calls as you simply told them you weren’t feeling well because of your monthly calls. When Yoongi did come back to the backyard, he was questioned as to what happened back in the house and why you looked like you were about to cry.

Yoongi couldn’t help but stare at your descending back just in time before you turned the corner and disappeared fully from sight. Only for him to lie to them despite knowing exactly why you left.

“She wasn’t feeling well.”

The week went by and you have been avoiding coming relatively close to the rest other than the 2 who were obviously unavoidable. But it’s not like you had anything against them. You just wanted to avoid Yoongi at all costs for now. It was a Friday and you had just finished your classes for the day when the two boys exchanged glances to each another before Jungkook spoke up.

“Hey, do you wanna grab something to eat with us after this?” You knew he was being nice. You knew he wasn’t to blame for Yoongi having the same exact soulmate mark as you. So for that, you chose not to lash out at him.

“It’s fine. I’ll pass.” You smiled half heartedly and they could tell. But thankfully, they chose not to question further.

The three of you were walking towards the main entrance as usual when you saw the rest of the group seeming to wait for you three. You glanced up to Jungkook beside you who gestured a small wave to the others, only for you to accidentally look over.

And the first thing you saw was Yoongi already looking at you.

Great.

Before you could get to close, you bid your goodbyes to your friends as you separated from them to head towards the gates. Nobody has yet to know why you were acting this way other than Yoongi himself. You were just halfway through the parking lot when a firm grip on your wrist made you turn after being tugged back gently.

You nearly crashed into the figure whom you weren’t surprised when you saw it was him.

“Stop acting like a child.” He said, his tone held something much more than just firmness. He sounded like he’s… hurt almost.

“So what? This marking thing is a load of bullshit. Why does it determine who we should be with? That’s unfair! I’ve seen couples who have different marks and yet they’re still happy together?!” You said, clearly letting your emotions take over your mind.

“If you think it’s bullshit then why are you ignoring me like I’ve just killed your pet?!” He asked, his voice now a tad louder than it was before.

“Because all the guys I’ve tried dating care too much about these marks! Every single one of them ditched me when they found out I didn’t have the same mark! And what are the odds that the one person who has the same exact mark as me, happens to be the one person that has been nothing but a daily source of fight with me?” You paused as his grip on you loosened, his glare suddenly softened.

“Of course I couldn’t believe it… I didn’t want to believe that of all people, it’s you… That’s why I ignore you.” Your voice grew soft as you saw the way his eyes flickered back and forth on your own brown pupils.

“So you’re saying you hate me? Is that it?” His question was simple but it held a thousand meanings and you knew it.

“I don’t even know anymore, Yoongi…” You whispered as you slowly pulled your hand out of his grip and quickly left before he could say anything else. Yoongi stood there trying to process everything. Still not entirely sure of what just happened. Just then, a gentle hand on his shoulder made him return back to reality.

“Hey man, you okay?” Namjoon’s calm voice spoke from beside Yoongi as the latter could only nod.

“We heard your conversation… Well, we didn’t intend to anyways… But, is it true? That you both have the same mark?” Namjoon continued.

He could hear the soft, quiet curse leaving Yoongi’s lips during his exhale before he spoke up, “Yeah… That was actually the reason why she abruptly left during Jungkook’s pool party.” Yoongi explained and it all began to fall into place for Namjoon. The younger could only nod as he finally put the pieces together.

“Mmm, and so I’m guessing she’s too overwhelmed with the fact that you have the mark out of a billion people to walk this planet?” Namjoon said.

“Bingo.” Yoongi sighed as the two began to walk back to their friends who were still gathered at the entrance despite hearing the commotion earlier. If space is what you need, then space is what he shall give. But of course, you can’t run from him forever.

It has been two weeks since your outburst with Yoongi and you have been keeping your distance from him again. The guys also didn’t try to tag you along knowing fully well that you needed space from Yoongi. For that, you silently thanked them. It was a Saturday night and you had made it a point to go for a quick grocery run to stock up your refrigerator with edible food.

After getting all the items you needed, you went to the queue. The lady at the counter scanned every item on the conveyor belt and went ahead to put it in the plastic bag before telling you the total cost.

You were about to reach into your jeans pocket when you noticed them being flat.

You felt around the pockets of your jeans and it was in fact empty. With that being said, you mentally cursed yourself for not bringing your wallet with you. Not only that, this store was the only one nearest to your apartment and it was closing in 10 minutes.

You wouldn’t make it back in time if you went home now to retrieve your wallet.

So you apologized to the lady who looked equally done with her job as you left the store empty handed. You were just walking down the partially empty street when you felt something drop onto your cheek. You stopped walking to feel what it was. Before you could touch your cheek, another drop hits the top of your head. And then another. And another.

“Fuck my life…”

You whispered to yourself as the sky suddenly began to downpour on you. Watching as some people ran across the road for shelter, some whips out their umbrella to shield them from the rain, some simply stayed indoors to avoid being caught in the rain.

However, you were too tired to even care about seeking shelter. Feeling as if today was the worst day of your life.

You continued to stroll down the street completely soaked under the rain.

You wrapped your arms around yourself in attempts to keep yourself warm but it clearly did no shit for you. Absent minded to notice your surroundings, you didn’t hear the calls for your name until the vehicle came to a gradual slow speed beside you on the street.

“Y/N!”

It was Yoongi.

“Leave me alone…”

“Y/N, why in the world are you walking in the heavy rain? You might fall sick, you dummy.”

“Who c-cares?” Your lips were starting to quiver from the cold.

“I do.”

You could’ve sworn your heart just skipped a beat at that response.

“Look, let me take you to my place and get you dry clothes while waiting for the rain to stop. I’ll send you home after.” He said.

“I d-don’t need your… h-help, Yoongi.”

He let out a soft groan in annoyance with your stubbornness, only to drive a little further down before bringing the car to a complete stop. You were about to carry on walking but your feet just came to a halt when you saw him running out of his car and coming to you.

“Come on and stop whining like a little kid.” Yoongi said as he grabbed your wrist and began jogging back to his car, pulling you into the passenger side before going back to the driver seat.

Once safely inside, he drove off into the night and made a left turn at the junction while your apartment building was to the right and probably about a 20 minutes walk. The car ride was quiet as neither of you said anything. You simply let him do what he said he would. When he finally brought the car to a park, he turned off the engine and soon climbed out of the vehicle.

You followed suit as he had already come over to your side to hold the door for you. After he’d locked the car, he led you to his apartment complex as you followed behind him. You took in the interior of his apartment complex, it looked slightly older than yours but still well maintained.

Apparently, he lived on the 14th floor unlike you who lived on the 5th floor.

He soon pulls out his house key and proceeds to unlock his front door. He opens the door for you, letting you step inside first. Once he had closed the door behind him, he told you to wait there as he excused himself to go get you a clean towel and new dry clothes for you to change into.

You took in the minimalist setting of his apartment, quite similar to yours except your walls are white and his is grey.

Yoongi came back with a handful, telling you where the bathroom was.

You followed his directions and soon closed the bathroom door once you’ve stepped inside. In the meantime, Yoongi had gone to change out of his own wet clothes into a clean pair of his sweatpants and a hoodie. He was boiling hot water to make hot chocolate for the two of you when you cleared your throat behind him.

He turned around at the sound, only for him to scheme through your outfit in which he had so specifically chosen for you. He had lent you one of his sleeping shorts and an oversized black hoodie that looked a little too big on you.

But for some reason, you looked good in them.

He almost had to pinch himself for staring too long before he finally spoke up, “Uhh, my dryer’s in the laundry room. Second door to the left.”

You nodded as you disappeared back down the hall, only for him to mentally curse himself for losing his composure. After 2 minutes or so, you came back having managed to turn the dryer on.

He handed you the cup of hot chocolate, not forgetting to thank him for it.

There was a short moment of peaceful silence before he gestured over to his living room. The both of you went over to the couch as you sat on either ends of the furniture. He turned his tv on and was busying himself with searching through Netflix when you mustered up the courage to ask him what was on your mind for the past half an hour.

“Why did you help me?”

Yoongi turned to you briefly, unsure if he should answer the question truthfully.

“As much as we fight, I’m not entirely heartless.”

Your eyes bore into him as you soon found yourself looking down at your hands when he turned to look at you. If it wasn’t for the tv, you knew for a fact that he could’ve heard the thumping of your heart. Silence fell over you two again but he broke it as soon as it started.

“Why were you walking in the rain?”

“I was on a grocery run.”

“But I don’t recall seeing you carry any bags of groceries?”

“That’s because I couldn’t pay for it without my wallet…”

He raised his eyebrows at you in disbelief, finding it ridiculous that you only realized it when you were checking out of the store.

“Shut up. This kind of stuff happens okay…” You scoffed, earning a quiet chuckle coming from him followed by an, “Okay, okay.” The room fell silent again and you were just playing with the strings of your hoodie.

Silently wishing for time to pass quicker but it seems like the rain only got heavier.

“Look, I think we should just forget about the whole marking thing and just… start over?” He said, causing you to look at him but he seemed like he was diligently avoiding your gaze.

“Start… over?” You dragged your words to show that you wanted a slightly more detailed explanation.

“What I mean is… let’s stop ignoring each other and stop fighting over the smallest little issues like we did when we were young. Back then we were still young and immature. But we’re not anymore, are we?” He ended with a question, making you huff.

You know he has a point but your ego is still higher than ever.

“Are you only saying this because I’m your soulmate?”

“No. I really am tired of fighting with you.”

“Why now? Why only want to call truce after you’ve seen my mark? Doesn’t that say a lot?” You were stubborn and he knows it. And yet, he still answers you to clear all your doubts.

Surprisingly patient with you.

“I know it might look like what you think, but it’s really not. I don’t care about the marking much like you. But after thinking about it, I feel like it’s actually childish to hold a grudge on each other for the things we’ve done years ago, don’t you think?” He explained, hoping it’ll get past that rock solid head of yours.

Your heart knows he’s right but your mind forces you to say otherwise.

With that, you huffed as you got up and excused yourself to go check on your clothes. Before you could make it past the first door on the left, he grabbed your wrist and tugged you back.

He pressed you against the wall with his other hand beside your head to trap you.

Your free hand hovered in between both yours and his chest as he was less than 4 inches away. Your faces were so close you could feel his breath hitting your lips. You would’ve slapped him if he did this years ago.

But now?

“Why are you so stubborn?”

He asked, his voice low as you kept your heated gaze on his eyes even though you saw the way his eyes flickered back and forth between your eyes and lips.

Rising heat from both anger and his body temperature radiated off him, engulfing you like a cocoon. You could’ve sworn you saw his pupils dilate a few times now that he was this close to you. It was quiet in the hallway as he frowned, still waiting for an answer from you. But instead, you gently pressed your hand on his warm chest that was in between your bodies.

This was enough to make him flinch slightly. His crammed face relaxed for a moment when he looked down at your hand on his chest before looking back at you.

Even more confusion struck him.

Your heart was racing rapidly in your chest, and you were so sure he could hear it. You couldn’t bear to look at him any longer so you looked down at your hand as you slid it up towards the necklace he was wearing. Playing with the pendant in between your fingers.

You didn’t realise this but his grip on your wrist was long gone and was now slowly snaking that arm around your waist.

Yoongi leaned in very subtly to let his lips brush against yours just to see your reaction. He closed his eyes, taking in the feeling of having you this close for the first time. You did the same as your other hand rested on his left bicep. Before you knew it, he closed whatever remaining gaps in between only to kiss you.

Your heart exploded in your chest as he used the hand beside your head to cup your cheek. You leaned into his touch while you reciprocated the kiss. Yoongi’s grip on your waist tightened as he pulled you against him.

He felt both your hands now just holding onto his biceps for support, his lips tugging upwards against your mouth.

You could feel his muscles flexing under your fingertips as he pulled away from your mouth and was now trailing soft kisses down your neck. A soft sigh left your lips, feeling him give some love to the part that joins your neck and shoulder blade together.

“Yoongi…” Your voice came out as a mere whisper.

Just when you wanted to say something, your breath hitched in your throat when you felt his hands slip past your shirt only to rest them on your sides when your mark was.

His touch was gentle but it definitely did something to your poor heart.

“Answer me truthfully… Are you okay with… this?” Yoongi asked, gesturing between you and him. “With us? Because you can say no if you’re really against this. I would never force you.”

You stared at him for a while, rethinking your answer. You’ve been so firm about not caring who has the same soulmate mark as you because you thought it was all bullshit. But now, standing in front of him and knowing that he has the mark, not only that but he seemed like he really genuinely likes you is making it twice harder for you to say no.

But your silence was too long for him as he counted to 3 in his mind. When you didn’t respond, he slowly nodded. Pulling himself away to leave a space between you.

“It’s okay, I understand… I think your clothes are dry. Go change, I’ll wait outside.” His voice was quiet as if he’s too upset, he can’t even look you in the eye. You felt bad. You never wanted him to feel this way. So when he turned in his heels to walk away, you yearned for him to come back.

Yoongi was halfway down his living room when he felt a smaller hand slide into his right one. His step came to a halt as he kept his back to you.

He was about to ask if there's something wrong but all he got was a soft apology.

“I’m sorry…”

You watched as he remained still, his back still facing you. Doing nothing to turn and look at you. Yoongi wasn’t sure what he wanted to do at the moment so he kept quiet.

Just then, you used your other hand to cup his that you were already holding. He would be lying if he said he didn’t like this. But he definitely wasn’t prepared for what you were about to do next. You weren’t sure if you trust your voice so instead, you took a few steps closer before wrapping your arms around his waist.

Pressing your cheek against his back. You stayed like that for a few seconds, basking in the sweet vanilla scent of his.

You could feel him tense up when you first hugged him but he soon relaxed in your arms.

You didn’t dare to do anything else, all until you felt him softly caress your arms only to lock his fingers with yours over top of your hands. You only nuzzled your face deeper into his back, afraid to look at him.

But when you feel him slowly move around in your arms, that’s when you let him face you.

The minute he sees your face, he immediately cups your cheeks and wasted no time in kissing you ever so sweetly. The butterflies in your stomach erupted as you snaked your arms around his shoulders, feeling him pull you closer to him by your waist.

He held you securely against him all the while never leaving your lips. You were the first to pull away, keeping the distance small between you and him.

Your eyes were still closed so you depended on your senses.

That wasn’t until you felt him cup your face again, caressing your cheek with his thumbs. The room fell silent as he brushed his soft lips against yours and whispered to you quietly, “Can we start over?”

You opted for just a nod, unsure if you could trust your voice. You opened your eyes to see him staring at you so softly with his doe round eyes.

Yoongi smiled, whispering an ‘okay’ before he kissed you again. He wrapped his arms around your waist as you melted against his lips. He took his time with you, making sure you were comfortable and that you really wanted this. He never wanted to hurt you in any way. He kept asking for your permission before he did anything and you appreciated it.

You woke up the next morning to a warm feeling engulfing you from behind. You stirred in your sleep, trying to see what it was. But the squeeze around your waist made you look down to see the familiar arm draped over your waist, tucking his hands underneath you. The silver bracelet around his right wrist could never be mistaken for someone else.

Just when you were about to snuggle deeper into the warmth of his body, you felt him kiss the back of your head. Your heart pounded in your chest, stomach flipped in your belly.

“Mmm, good morning.” He whispered, his morning voice low and raspy.

You sighed in content as you turned around to face him, only to find that he still had his eyes closed but there was a smile that crept on his lips.

With that, you smiled as you planted a soft kiss on his lips. You could feel him smirk against your lips, earning a soft giggle from you. His arm that was supporting your head, bent at the elbows as he began to play with your soft hair.

The next day, you came to school feeling a little down in the weather. Maybe it was a late reaction to when you got drenched in the rain. You were sniffling in your seat when Taehyung and Jungkook immediately caught the sight of your red nose.

“Hey, are you sick? Your nose is red.” Jungkook said, his voice laced with full concern. You simply shook him off saying it was just light flu.

The other two weren’t buying it, they said they would go get medicine for you after class and you all but rejected them. The last thing you’d wanna do was to burden them.

So after your morning class has ended and you have been dismissed for lunch, the three of you made it to the cafeteria only to find the rest of the guys already seated. But you and Yoongi still haven’t told them about your resolve yet. So they thought you two were still ignoring each other.

“Hey guys! Y/N? Are you okay? You look kind of pale…” Namjoon asked, making you smile.

“It’s just a little flu, that’s all.” You said, completely missing the way Yoongi was staring at you with pure concern.

“Do you wanna go home and rest?” Hoseok asked in which you shook your head, before a squeaky sneeze left your lips not forgetting to cover your mouth while you did. “Sorry…” You whispered an apology, earning a few laughs from them. Just then, Yoongi got up without a word, leaving the table.

You watched as he disappeared down the aisle towards the drink stall. You wondered what he was doing but nevertheless shrugged, going to the empty seats beside him and Jimin.

You took a seat beside Yoongi’s empty chair, not really having the appetite to eat.

You were just rejecting Jimin’s offer to feed you some of his food when Yoongi came back with a glass of hot tea, a bottle of water and a strip of two panadol flu tablets. The rest of them watched quietly as he sat down beside you and handed you the drinks.

“Here, take this.” He said softly, pulling your hand up to push the two tablets out of the strip onto your open palms.

“Oh? Since when are you guys on good terms?” Taehyung asked in utter confusion.

“We’re not. We’re just acting.” Yoongi replied sarcastically before twisting the bottle cap open for you. He waited for you to throw your head back and let the tablets fall into your mouth before gulping down the water.

After you were done, you thanked him quietly. You didn’t miss the little smirk on his face.

“Okay…” Seokjin said as he gently slammed his hands onto the table top, making some of you flinch.

“What’s going on? Last week you were both ignoring each other and now you’re taking care of her like she means the world to you?” He asked as you turned to Yoongi for help.

“Don’t you know the saying ‘People change’?” Yoongi said.

“Of course, but it’s almost too drastic. Just over the weekend too.” Seokjin said in disbelief.

“Well, I guess it happens.” Yoongi shrugged as Jungkook directed his question to you.

“So I’m guessing you too?”

“No. I still hate him.” You lied.

“Is that so? Then why are you holding his pinkie?” Hoseok smirked, pointing to your intertwined pinkie on the table. With that, you quickly removed your hands from Yoongi.

“Hey... Why did you let go? I was about to play with your fingers.”

Yoongi said with a small pout, making you blush. Just then, Yoongi reached back over to lace his fingers with yours, resting your hands on his lap only to steal a quick kiss to your cheek.

This stirred a few dramatic gasps from your other friends. “Did you guys see that?! That was- omg!” Seokjin’s voice was too loud, making Jimin cover his mouth with his hands.

“Oh hush your pie hole dust. Just let me be happy for once.” Yoongi smirked as you felt him caress the back of your hand. He’s definitely going to be a handful but you’re more than happy to entertain his crap.

~~~

#bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts fluff #bts x reader #min yoongi #bts yoongi #bts suga #yoongi scenario #suga scenarios #yoongi fluff #min yoongi x reader #suga x reader #bts suga scenarios #bts suga imagines #suga fluff

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smolla-than-a-bug · 3 years ago

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trese boys + things my guy friends do

ft. crispin, basilio, tapia, dominic, maliksi

navi | trese m.list

content — gn!reader

notes — sweet but stupid LMAO saw someone do this for hq, thought of doing one for trese! i’m making hcs for now so i can ease back into writing longer stuff :>

—crispin

gives u song recs and makes u spotify playlists

You unlock your phone and the first thing you see is a message that says hey have u heard this song? with a link attached below. You say you haven’t.

listen to it rn

have u heard of the artist at least?

Again, you say you haven’t.

WHAT

okay brb gimme like 5 mins

He comes back with another link, but it’s a link to a playlist this time. It’s filled mostly with songs of the artist he was talking about earlier along with other artists that make similar sounding music. You’re familiar with some, but before you’re able to completely scroll through the entire playlist, your eyes catch its title and you don’t know how your eyes had just skimmed over it. ‘y/n boboshit’

You quickly go back to your conversation to cuss him out for that.

HAHAHAHAHAHA 😛

okok whatever lets do a listening party

—basilio

spams u on text/rings ur phone to get ur attention when he watches a horror movie so u’ll keep him company bc he’s “scared”

hey whered u go. Your phone pings—another message. You’re so close to blocking him.

hoy come back

HOY ANO BA

DONT LEAVE ME HOY

You can’t escape him. Your phone sounds off with new notifications, one after the other, until finally, your ringtone goes off, and you have had it. “What?” you hiss out once you pick up, only for the call to be ended just as soon as you did. You type out the words ‘what the fuck’. The response is instant.

i cant talk to u over the phone stupid

im in the cinema remember 💀

stay w me tho im getting scared HAHAHAHA

You roll your eyes. This man deals with creatures of the night for a living, and he’s scared of horror movies? Yeah, okay.

—tapia

once tried to watch a movie w u through discord but couldn’t figure out how to share the screen with audio so u ended up watching the movie separately while on video call

You laugh as you switch to the other tab. On the other end of the line, Tapia’s counting down for both of you. “Okay, okay, play.”

A few minutes pass, and your laptop lags. You mentally curse your internet server before letting Tapia know that your movies probably aren’t in sync anymore.

“Huh? Okay, what timestamp are you on. I’m at 14:57.”

“11:43,” you read aloud.

When he says he’ll rewind his to match yours and starts counting down again for you to hit the play button at the same time, he sighs out, “This is so stupid.”

You both burst out laughing.

“Shut up, I don’t know how to use Discord.”

—dominic

encourages you to rant because he both finds it amusing and wants to know the tea

“…the chicken was fine when I put it in the pan. I turn around for a second and bam! Fire! I don’t even know how the fuck that happened! And, you know…”

You’ve been ranting for hours about how shitty your day has been, and Dominic’s been listening intently over video call. He laughs a lot and he reacts occasionally, saying things like ‘Damn’, ‘Whaaaat’, or ‘For real?’ to egg you on.

You sighed once you finished covering all the events of your day, slumping in your seat. Unbeknownst to you, Dominic made a mental note to send over some comfort food to hopefully lift your spirits.

—maliksi

picks u up at midnight for a spontaneous drive to starbucks in tagaytay

are u awake?, read the new notification on your phone. You drop your textbook and highlighter for a while to reply that, yes, you are awake and that you were just studying. Now seems like a good time for a break though.

Not even a minute passed after you hit send, and you’re already getting a new notification. good coz im outside.

Outside where? Outside as in outside my place?

get dressed. come out. lets go tags

He’s insane for showing up in the dead of the night, not to mention without warning, but you’re equally as insane for actually complying. Putting on sweats and a jacket, you make your way out the door, and there he was, reaching over the passenger’s seat to push the door open for you.

Once you’re settled in, he takes off, disconnecting his phone from the bluetooth speakers of his car as he went. “Connect your phone. You play music.”

trese tag list — @lumpiang-toge @binibiningbabaylan @marinac15 @effmigentlywithachainsaw

#trese headcanons #trese crispin #trese basilio #trese tapia #trese dominic #trese maliksi #crispin and basilio x reader #crispin x reader #basilio x reader #tapia x reader #dominic x reader #maliksi x reader #trese hcs #trese x reader #trese imagines #trese netflix #trese

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snackhobi · 4 years ago

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pairing: jungkook x reader / word count: 7.4k / genre: pacific rim au with brief smut (NSFW, 18+)

summary: there are no secrets in the drift. if jungkook were to see the mess inside your head and heart, laid utterly bare, he’d turn away from you.

warnings: sexually explicit content (briefly), unprotected sex (please be safe when you have sex) / reference to injuries but nothing graphic, giant robots powered by love punching big alien monsters

a/n: this is a birthday gift for the amazing @yeojaa. happy birthday, erin. this is completely self serving and is stuffed full with inside references that I hope you’ll enjoy. I wrote this in two days and it kicked my ass because I did so much reading and researching that turned out to not even come up in the story 👁👄👁 you know when I said I was studying? I lied. I was writing HAHAHAH ily I hope you like it hhhh (this is unbeta’ed so please forgive any mistakes it’s 1:30am as I’m scheduling this) (also summaries are so hard, I’m sorry)

Jeon Jungkook really is the perfect posterboy for a Jaeger pilot.

Broad across the shoulders and trim at the waist, all sharp punches and hard muscle, resilient and tough, with a face that’s the perfect balance of angles and softness; the cut of his jaw easing up and into his pretty mouth, the line of his brows subdued by his warm eyes—he’s a Goddamn vision, raw masculinity overlaid on rich veins of boyishness, glittering stratum that sparkle and shine even under the harsh lights of the Shatterdome.

He pouts when he thinks and his hair hangs a little in his big, big eyes and he has dimples that appear when he grins, teeth poking out onto his pretty pink lips, like someone took a rabbit and turned it into a man and packed on pounds of muscle alongside. Undeniably powerful and strong, but youthful and sweet, too.

Alongside Kim Taehyung—arresting and beautiful and somehow affable and approachable, all at the same time—they’re exactly what South Korea needs right now, propelling the country’s new look for their renewed assault against the kaiju. They’re the lucky new Rangers who’ve claimed ownership of the only Mark-5 that their homeland has produced, Bulletproof Striker, a fucking gorgeous Jaeger bristling with the latest and greatest technology that the world has produced.

But that doesn’t mean they’re the best that South Korea has to offer.

Cypher Zero is smaller, lighter, older, but she’s fierce. Just like her pilots. You and Yoongi might not be the burning beacons of hope that Jungkook and Taehyung are, polished and buffed to a squeaky shine, but you don’t need to be. You’re vicious and victorious and show no signs of stopping. The kaiju kills painted on your Mark-4’s shoulder are evidence enough of that, notches for each monster taken down, spray painted in one tiny corner of the huge swathe of burnished metal plating, the red edges of her midnight skin.

Bulletproof Striker is almost untouched, deployed just once since her recent launch, flawless exterior so at odds with Cypher Zero’s battered facade. Cypher’s beautiful, of course, but bears the history of your skirmishes, inside and out: scuffed paintwork, dented metal, rust dripping down from the ladder rungs dotted across her, melting into the obsidian of her hull.

Jungkook and Taehyung move in a way that’s practiced, disciplined motions of combat that their Jaeger echoes in turn. Her mechanical movements reflect those of the men inside her head, skilled and superb. Stunning. But you and Yoongi? You fight dirty, violent and rough; messy bar room brawls; shattered glass and clawing hands in beer soaked backrooms, tinged sulphur yellow under dirty lightbulbs; two kids who fought against a world that was against them.

(Two damaged people coming together in the Drift to make something even stronger than the sum of your parts.)

(Two damaged people who survived the rough hands of the Jaeger Academy, trying to take them, push them, shape them, break them.)

(Life isn’t kind. You’d learned that young, surrounded in the splintered remnants of your childhood home, the facade of family and happiness already gone, long long long ago, leaving you aching and lonely and cold. The prospect of fighting thousands of tons of alien hatred, lifting out of the depths of the uncaring, dark sea? At least you can see the kaiju coming. Broken households and loneliness? A little harder to lay your hands on.)

(But out of everything you lost, you’d gained one thing—Min Yoongi, another quiet, damaged thing, but with the biggest depths of warmth and love underneath that hard surface; your best friend, your brother-in-arms, growing alongside you, with you. Damaged kids turned bitter teenagers turned razor-edged adults, outcasts in solitude, but together. Not alone.)

(The deeper the bond, the better you fight. Falling into the Drift with Yoongi had been easy, years of tangled connection bleeding into the images that flashed across your brain. The same memories from different angles, overlaid with different emotions, undercurrents eddying under the surface that caught both of you and swept you up in its flow; the same mind, bridged by hundreds of tons of metal and technology and firepower underneath you, linked together in the silence of the Drift.)

There’s reverence, in the way these two new pilots look at you both, reverence and awe and respect alike: older Rangers, more experienced, history written across the worn edges of your Drivesuits, the paint flaking away from your battle armour, scuffs and scrapes on the once unblemished veneer; knowledge etched into the feline slant of Yoongi’s eyes, the turn of your shoulders and hips.

You know Jungkook’s track record. You know of the endless months of assessment and sparring and psych evals and Drift tests and simulation drops that every successful Ranger has to go through, and Jungkook had trumped them all, stood atop them like a conqueror surveying his hard-won lands—gifted, talented, some even said God-touched. And yet for all this indomitable talent and skill, there’s still humility at his core, a willingness to defer with respect.

That deference is obvious whenever he sees you. Jungkook’s dark eyes will touch your own, for a moment, dark and deep and bright—and then his gaze will skitter away, cockiness and bravado dissolving into something submissive, yielding. (Shy.) You’ve watched him orbit you, the younger ranger caught in your gravity, always nearby—the Shatterdome is only so big, for its magnitude and sprawling corridors—but never broaching that final gap, that little step, into Cypher Zero’s space, Yoongi’s space, your space. Keeping himself at arm’s length.

South Korea’s golden boy, less afraid of the Kaiju than he is of his sunbaenim.

Jungkook and Taehyung are both beautiful. But you and Yoongi are less so, unapproachable in ways that the younger pilots aren’t, private and prickly, like grasping a patch of stinging nettles with bare hands, stinging and burning.

As if Jungkook isn’t terrifying and gorgeous in his own ways. As if he doesn’t shine brighter than the sun himself. Taehyung moves through the world with a thoughtless, charismatic ease that Jungkook doesn’t share—but he’s still magnetic, bold and brilliant, monstrously skilled at everything he puts his mind to, training again and again and again to get it right, get it right, get it right.

To get it perfect.

But there’s no level of perfectionism that can surmount the twisted, unpredictable nature of the kaiju belched forth from the breach. No matter how good you are, how strong or fast, how smart or seasoned, sometimes you still get caught in that hurricane, even in a Jaeger.

It doesn’t matter how many engines are packed into each muscle strand. It doesn’t matter how fast the pistons and levers and gears shift and move. It doesn’t matter that the pilots in her cockpit are impeccable and incredible. Under the cloak of deepest night and pouring rain, blanketed in darkness and water from the heavens above and the sea below, movement is impossible to track—and when Steelbrute rises from the waves, no one sees the kaiju coming.

Bulletproof Striker takes the hit. Jungkook and Taehyung fight back but they’re blindsided and overwhelmed, and their Jaeger falls to her knees in the churn of the Pacific Ocean, salt water crashing over her in choppy waves as Steelbrute’s merciless maw gapes wide open.

Cypher Zero is 250ft tall and weighs 1410 tons. You and Yoongi are tiny specks of organic matter in a fearsome behemoth of titanium and tungsten and graphene and circuitry, commanders of a weapon that’s the same size as a skyscraper—and yet you wouldn’t think that for how fast you move. Zero hesitation. No verbal communication. Cypher’s legs cut through endless waves and gain momentum with each crashing step that slams into the seafloor before you leap forward in a flurry of motion and Drift powered fury.

Your motions in the Conn-Pod are ragged and incensed, your arms and legs moving in sync with Yoongi, with Cypher Zero, a snarl ripping out of your co-pilot’s usually quiet mouth as the kaiju lurches underneath you. The world narrows down to this: throwing yourself into the fray, jagged knuckles edged with plasma pummelled into Steelbrute’s skin in a scuffle that’s vicious, aggressive, until Bulletproof Striker regains her footing.

The sun is rising, grey and cold on the horizon when Steelbrute finally sinks into the sea, toxic blood flooding the water with neon blue. When you step out of the cockpit, Yoongi’s fringe is matted with sweat, and you can feel all the places the circuitry suit sticks to your skin—piloting a Jaeger is mentally and physically exhausting, every muscle and organ and bone working overtime for endless hours as you fight tooth and nail. Without the helmets in the way, there’s nothing stopping you bumping your foreheads together, heedless of the sweat slicked there; Yoongi’s hand rests at the back of your head, a familiar cradle.

“All good,” you say. Yoongi lets out a quiet bark of a laugh, rough and exhausted.

“I want a nap,” he says, like he always does, even if you’re a long way away from that, still fully suited and due to speak to the Marshalls. There are so, so many things separating you from the bliss of sleep.

One thing that’s not part of the normal routine, though, is the other pilots catching you, demanding your recognition, respectful (Taehyung) but insistent (Jungkook). You know that Yoongi doesn’t like attention or hero-worship, but there’s nothing except gratitude, here, bent heads and words of thanks. You’d saved their lives, after all. Saved their Jaeger from being torn apart, pain screaming through their own bodies of flesh and bone, connected to their metal monster. Of course they’re grateful.

You dismiss it with a hard cut of your hand.

“It’s nothing,” you say.

You’re speaking the words you know are in Yoongi’s head—years of friendship and shared Drifts leaving his thought processes wide open to you—although you know you’re sharper than he is, harsher than he is, even, for all that he looks like the cold one from the outside. Long lashes and silken hair don’t translate to something soft and feminine and pretty, and you’re all ragged edges and rough parts, bleeding into the delivery of your words. Yoongi rounds the words in his mouth and places them into the world with a rumble of quiet strength that belies his past, but you? Your tongue is cutting and terse and drips with distrust, even when you don’t mean it to, staring at these two boys, Jungkook’s eyes so brown and large when he stares back at you.

The truth is that you care about humanity, of course. You care about humanity and you care about the millions of people in the cities that line the coasts and further inland, and you care about your fellow pilots, skilled but soft-hearted as they are. You’re stronger. You have to be. That’s what Yoongi is, that’s what you are: fighters. You fight dirty because you fight to win, not to protect yourselves. You’ll fight and you’ll die for this, for them, even if there’s no friendship there. Not yet. You’re still too distant, for all that you’d thrown yourself in the line of fire to rip the kaiju from the younger Rangers.

And when Jungkook levels a look at you, there’s a flicker of something. A spark. All the glittering of his warm eyes comes together like the cascading sparks of molten fire that fall when metal is cut through— his eyes score through you, down down down, right to your core, underneath all the armour you’ve laid about yourself throughout your life. Your heart stutters. You’ve been watching Jeon Jungkook, and he’s all cocky Ranger bravado, or innocent brown eyes and shy, curving smiles, and yet.

And yet. You know he sees this soft part of you, somehow. Past the thorns and sharp leaves, past the hard husk, into the rich, bursting sweetness inside, oozing red gems of pomegranate that yield so easily to the fingers and mouth.

(He’s temerarious and modest and wickedly perceptive too, it seems.)

“That was our kill,” he says suddenly. Taehyung—the voice piece of the two, the one who’s been smiling and speaking, easy and slow—goes still at his side.

“What?” Yoongi’s eyes pierce through him, but Jungkook keeps his focus on you.

“Steelbrute. Our kill. It was a hit from our rockets that took him out,” Jungkook says, eyes still glinting with that sparkling shine. Slicing through you with an explosion of light. “Not your blades.”

Silence steals over you, for a breath. It’s never truly silent in the Shatterdome, an iron fortress that never sleeps, but for a second, there’s quiet. It wraps around you. Tight. Almost deafening.

But then you break that silence.

You laugh.

You laugh at the cheeky grin that pulls at Jungkook’s lips, the boyish lift to his face. You laugh at his shamelessness, the sudden 180 from his earlier fear. You laugh at the way he’s diluted this astonishing, formidable thing—humanity coming together to destroy alien predators that threaten the planet—into a competition.

“You’re a menace, Jeon Jungkook,” you say.

Stinging nettles you might be, but if you’re grabbed hard and fast by confident hands, you don’t wound. Jeon Jungkook defers to respect, avoids confrontation, bows his head and quiets his mouth, but he knows, now, that he can do this. That he can push you like this, and you’ll let him, sway against it, let yourself be pushed.

Yoongi slides you a glance out the corner of his eyes, a light touch, a tacit agreement to an unspoken question.

“You can have it. Steelbrute’s yours.” There’s the smallest curl to your lips as you speak for you both. There’s something weirdly easy and familiar to this, to this interaction, even if you’ve barely exchanged words before now, giving this triumph to the other pilots hand over fist.

(Giving it to Jungkook on a platter.)

You can see the flare of triumph in Jungkook’s eyes. You know it’s not for the notch of their first kill, one they can add to their Jaeger. It’s for something far harder to achieve, something far more ephemeral: digging down and past your cool veneer and lifting out a smile, spreading it across your lips like warm butter, liquid gold.

And he keeps making you smile.

Jeon Jungkook, you find, is a force of nature, relentless, an ocean. Sometimes he’s soft, loving waves of glittering blue that crash on pearly white beaches, playful and bright. Sometimes, he’s intense, the crashing waves of a storm tossed sea, powerful and unstoppable. Always, he’s striking, even when he’s not trying—even more so because of it, moving without thought or uncertainty, a silence settling over your thoughts whenever you see him like this. See him in this raw state, so unafraid where before he’d curbed his tongue and bent his head in front of you. Now, he’s just himself, without filter.

Taehyung is there too, of course. Both pilots join your small, fiercely private circle, not just a path from you to Yoongi any more. They become intertwining lines, a pattern that’s drawn between the four of you, pilots, friends. And you learn, that for all that you’d thought that Taehyung was the dominant one outside of their Jaeger, social and extroverted and unabashed, Jungkook isn’t quiet. Not when he’s comfortable.

(Not, now, when he’s with you.)

He’s a myriad of things, endlessly deep, so different from you, from Yoongi, but—the truth of it settles inside you, your joints, the marrow of your bones, the blood that pulses forth from your heart each time it beats in your chest, liquid life running through you.

Drift compatibility.

Not that it matters. You already have a partner. You’re never going to open yourself up to anyone that isn’t Yoongi, who’s seen every part of you already. There’d been no fear about letting Yoongi see inside your brain, your heart, the raw, bleeding parts of you—because he’d already known them. Just like you’d known his. Yoongi stands to your right, inside the Conn-Pod and out, a driving force, even in his silence.

But Jungkook is softer, sweeter, for all his raw power and skill, respect engraved into his every motion, even when he’s teasing and making you laugh. Even when he ignores the social guidelines that he should follow, does follow for others, everyone except you.

And you don’t mind. You don’t bite out insults at him when he slides into the quiet hollow you’ve scraped out, a small space with just enough room for the people you keep in your heart. You’re still barbed and spiked, warding away unwanted attention, but for Jungkook, the claws retract.

You’re still you, of course. Jungkook calls you mean, says that you bully him, even as he’s flopped across your bunk, eating your rations, shovelling coveted popcorn into his mouth. He might pout and sigh and cry oppression, but you’re soft on him and he knows it. That quiet hollow in your heart is a little larger, now, a little louder. Jungkook is brazen in his claim of this space, spreading each of his limbs wide as he fits himself into every part of it. He doesn’t know every piece of your past, and you don’t plan to let him see all the messy parts bundled in your chest, but. But he’s still there.

And you let him stay. You make a home for him inside you and let him take the key. He might tilt his head and goad you, might pretend there’s a genuine challenge in the set of his jaw, but you know it’s all tempered with admiration, veneration. Friendship.

(And where he clearly respects you, you admire him in turn. You’re reminded of your differences every second he moves and breathes and just exists in front of you, but you don’t have to be similar to someone to realise just how incredible they are.)

(But though you’re different, there are similarities. You’re not a mirrored image, a reflection, like you are with Yoongi. Instead, you’re a line drawn between two separate places, an isohel, sun lighting up your world for the same sweep of the clock even for how far apart you are. Sharing that same, tenuous thing, for all your contrasting parts.)

(This thing that’s growing, held in your hands. This soft, gentle thing, shimmering, frail, unfurling slowly but undeniably. Tinged with happiness, disbelief. Disbelief that you’ve found this, that you can see Jungkook across the echoing cavern of the Shatterdome’s main hall, so far in the distance, barely visible at the foot of his Jaeger—and something will settle in your chest. Featherlight, iridescent. Something comforting.)

When you fight the kaiju, now, it’s with a deeper reserve of desperation. Taehyung and Jungkook aren’t just fellow pilots, dongsaeng that you’re obliged to look after: they’re your friends, something more than that too, part of the rare handful of people in the world who understand, this overwhelming pressure to fight and win and protect the things you love. The people you love. They understand what it’s like to step into someone else’s head, to be connected to that person on a level that’s unfathomable, anchored in a depth of love that’s endless. You’re their aegis, now, their shield.

(Jungkook’s shield.)

Maybe that’s what’s to blame. Maybe that’s why you’re so sloppy, this time. Maybe that’s why you throw yourselves in the way of the blow that was meant for Bulletproof Striker. Maybe that’s why Ojousan shreds Cypher Zero’s chest apart, her head, why Yoongi is almost ripped from you, his fear and pain screaming through your neural connection. You feel everything he feels and more beside, your heart hammering in your throat as you scream, Jaeger’s arm swinging up and around in tandem with your own motions as you try to rip the kaiju away, anything to protect Yoongi, so scared of losing him, always always always, scared of being left alone.

But you’re not alone.

Bulletproof Striker lifts up like an avenging angel. Her horns roar a challenge, an echoing battle cry as the younger pilots move in. Heavier and stronger, keeping her balance even in the turbulence of a fight, she takes the hits, gives back her own, sends the kaiju down into the crashing waves, waits for it to rise. But the monster is crafty and quick and even as you’re lifting your left arm—Yoongi’s hurt, so hurt, you know this, feel this, but he moves with you to ready the plasma cannon buried in the mechanics of your Jaeger’s hand, even if he’s keening with pain—you watch as the other pilots, too, fall victim to the clawed tail of the kaiju, screeching through layers of alloys and across their Conn-Pod.

Terror strikes through every part of you and morphs into hate. You hate the kaiju, hate your own weakness, hate the pain that’s been saved from being written into your own body while Yoongi screams and sobs even though he still fights. Your motions are anguished and desperate as you battle to overcome this beast that’s almost taken away everything that matters to you—and Cypher Zero, Yoongi, as damaged and hurt as they are, come through. (Like they always do, for you, always.)

And somehow, despite everything, for all the self-hatred and pain and fear, you pull through. You pull through. Damaged and hurt but alive.

Barely.

Barely alive.

(One hand gives, the other takes away.)

It takes hours for them to pick Yoongi’s Drivesuit from his body, crumpled around him from Ojousan’s claws, cutting into the soft flesh of his body, body ruined further by the fighting he’d been forced into despite his injuries; so many of Taehyung’s bones are shattered, and when you finally see him awake and with his eyes open, there are burst blood vessels that cast red across the usually warm expression, his friendly eyes.

You should be grateful that they’re alive. You should be on your hands and knees, weeping, benedictions dripping from your graceless mouth as you thank whatever merciless God above decided to turn their gaze on you and grant you this leniency. So many pilots have died and will continue to die, you know this, but somehow your partners are still alive.

And you are grateful. You are. But there’s bitterness on your tongue, twisted across your palate, sour and acrid and filling you with its taste. You’d been foolish and reckless and you’d almost lost the things you cared about most, even if you’d destroyed the kaiju, torn it apart and left its fluorescent indigo blood to corrode the ocean.

That’s what’s important, isn’t it. Saving humanity. One person, two people, four people—you’re the tiniest cogs in a whirring engine of billions. Unimportant. Just a spinning part that keeps the machine going.

When you’re not with Yoongi or Taehyung, an unmoving presence from their hospital beds, a hovering gargoyle carved from stone, you’re with Jungkook. Always, always, always. Somehow you’d both escaped without the injuries inflicted on your partners—you’d manage to break your little finger, and Jungkook had a black eye and a twisted ankle, and the both of you had mottles of bruises cast across your skin, pulled muscles, an ache carved into your bones, but that was it. That was it. It was almost laughable, how unscathed you are.

You hate it.

(It should have been you.)

Your legs—unbroken, unharmed—hang over steel scaffolding, motionless as you watch the tiny specks of people scuttling across the catwalks that criss-cross Cypher Zero’s body. You can see under her skin, damage peeling back all the layers of metal that should be holding her together. Endless showers of sparks fall and scatter as she’s stitched back together. Your beautiful girl is so damaged, so disfigured.

(You’d caught Yoongi as he’d fallen from the harness, listened to the horrible noises that had torn out of his lips as he’d dripped blood and pain over your shaking hands.)

The bland food you’d scraped off your dinner tray settles fitfully in your stomach, still one second, nausea bubbling up your throat the next.

It’s one of the rare times you’ve been alone, since… since everything. You’ve been taking comfort in Jungkook’s presence, unwavering and understated, needing someone there when staring at Yoongi’s battered face proved too much. Even with his own upheaval Jungkook’s been there, at your side, always close. Eyes locked on you and taking everything in, the tired set to your face, the expression that tugs down your lips, and still, he stays.

But he’d disappeared after you’d eaten, a peculiar look on his face—you know him well enough now to recognise that look, that it means he’s got something in his head, some plan he means to unfold. It’s the first time you’ve seen it since Taehyung had been pulled out of the Conn-Pod. It’s some semblance of normality, an expression of something other than pale-faced dread and bone-shivering guilt.

(You feel it too, that survivor’s guilt. Taehyung and Yoongi will recover but it’ll take time and so much suffering and you wish you could take that from them, heft that burden onto your own shoulders.)

(You know Jungkook feels the same.)

(You see it written in the tense lines of his body. Hear it unspoken in the words he shares with you. The bruises on his skin melt from red to purple to blue to yellow, but even if his body heals, his brain and heart bear the scars of helplessness.)

Jungkook reappears, finds you at the heavy steel door that leads into your room, rusted and worn but silent as it swings open in front of you. His eyes are wide and he’s breathless, like he’s been running, chest heaving as he sucks in air through his parted lips, a flash of teeth and tongue as he smiles.

Despite everything, you smile back. Helpless for that smile, always, happier now for the sight of it, for how little you’ve seen it. You want to see that smile every day. You don’t want him to worry for anything. You want him to feel the same way you do, when you see him: that quiet, maybe selfish thought that things are okay.

Maybe he does. (His eyes are so warm.) He presses something into your hands, something soft and round like a well-practised secret, and then he’s gone. You can tell by the gait of his stride that he’s going back to Taehyung, giving you a moment of lonely reprieve to wash the grime and dirt off your useless body before you follow in his footsteps, stationed at Yoongi’s side.

The door swings shut behind you.

You lift your hand.

It’s an orange.

It’s a small, overripe thing, hard nub of the stem falling away from the skin with only the lightest brush of your fingers. You stare at the fruit, its brightness cutting through the muted sepia tones of your surroundings, a point of colour in an otherwise dull room.

You haven’t seen an orange in months. Rationing is tough on everyone, even Jaeger pilots. You’d mentioned in passing, so long ago, an old habit of yours. Before something else floated above it, more important and interesting, you’d made a fleeting statement that had flitted across the surface of the conversation: you liked eating oranges in the shower. Liked that nice, cool citrus sweetness in your mouth while the rest of your body was caught in the fall of warm water.

It’s such a small, tiny thing. Just the briefest lament—there are more important things than the fact you can’t have shower oranges any more, after all—and you’d forgotten you’d even mentioned it.

But Jungkook hadn’t.

It’s almost syrupy sweet, this orange. You savour each slice, pressing them between your teeth, feeling the rush of juice burst forth through the pith and skin, and it’s so good you could cry.

You do cry.

Your mouth is full of orange and your eyes are full of tears and your head is full of—of—something, something so all encompassing that it overwhelms you, water cascading down the aching planes of your body as you crumple inwards. Jungkook had protected you with the overwhelming power of Bulletproof Striker, and he’s protecting you now, soft and considerate and kind, vulnerable and human. Stripped of tons of metal and technology, Jungkook wears his beating heart on his sleeve and is none the weaker for it.

This seemingly small thing means so much, so so so much. You understand him, and he understands you too, knows that this gesture is indicative of support and care and nurturing, a tiny fragment of peace he can offer you in the tumult of everything out of your control.

A tiny fragment of peace that’s part of a greater whole, all the things that Jungkook gives to you.

When the Marshalls gather you and tell you the plan going forwards, you’re unsurprised.

It makes sense, of course. Four pilots down to two still leaves a pair, and Bulletproof Striker is nearly functional even if Cypher Zero will stay out of commission while she’s rebuilt. Simple maths. One Jaeger, two pilots. You and Jungkook.

You’re scared.

You know you’re Drift compatible. Every fight in the Kwoon Combat Room is evidence enough of that. A dialogue, each challenge is meant to be a dialogue to show physical compatibility, and it is: there’s perfect sync in how you each move to strike, even if your motions are so different, muscles burning and breaths coming faster each time you attack, parry, strike, block. It’s not about winning or losing. It’s a conversation, one that you and Jungkook fall into without thought.

And he would be the perfect partner. That much isn’t in doubt. Loyal and open and strong, honourable and brave and kind—and you know him, have grown to learn so much about this golden boy, this bright, brilliant boy. He’s fucking indomitable and anyone would be lucky to find themselves in the same Jaeger as Jeon Jungkook.

But there are no secrets in the Drift.

To let someone in, you have to trust them. And you do, you do trust Jungkook, probably far more than makes sense, some unspoken thing between you burning like a wildfire. But while you trust him, confident in his strength and his heart, you trust yourself less.

You’ll be flayed open, naked and defenceless. He’ll see right to the core of you, every dirty corner of your crumpled soul, every shameful part of your foundations, uneven brickwork layered into your shaky temperament; strong one second, weak the next. He’ll see that you’re hard inside, too, biting and acidic right down to your shrivelled heart. This nascent thing that you’ve been building with Jungkook, been keeping safe in the cradle of your careful hands, will sputter out and die.

“Baby.”

Yoongi’s voice is comforting, a familiar rumble that rolls through your ears as you rest your head in his lap.

“And I mean that you’re literally being a baby,” he continues, and you curl your lip back from your teeth in a small snarl, menacing.

Yoongi just continues to thread his hands through your hair.

You’ve Drifted with Yoongi often and long enough to know how every thread of thought unspools in that skull of his. You know he has every confidence in the unshakeable pillar of your soul. He’s a brother to you, a connection that thrums deep in your veins even without the intimacy of the Drift, and the love you hold for him is undying and true.

But whatever you have with Jungkook is so timorous in the face of that.

“It’s different.” Yoongi looks down at the twist of your face. You know his thoughts and he knows yours too, your face and heart an open book to him. “But different isn’t bad.”

You keep your mouth shut, keep the words swallowed down in your throat, shoved down to the pit of your stomach. Keep it secret. Keep it safe.

“Baby,” he says again, softer, lower. This time, you know it’s an endearment.

At the end of the day, no matter what fear grips cold and endless at your insides, you’ll do it. You’ll Drift with Jungkook. You’ll throw everything you have into the pyre, watch it burn and turn to ash, if it means you can keep everyone safe. To save Yoongi, Taehyung, Jungkook—you’ll open yourself up to the mortifying ordeal of opening up, laying yourself bare. You have to.

It’s chaotic, anyway. The day that your practice Drift is scheduled is the day the next kaiju rises out of the breach, that dreaded rift between our world and theirs, because why would you be allowed to breathe, even for a second?

It’s a scramble into the cockpit. There’s no time for trial runs or test Drifts. You fly or you fall. Everyone’s in a state of orderly upheaval as you’re suited up and left to stride forwards into a Conn-Pod that isn’t yours, in a Jaeger that isn’t yours.

(Left to stride forwards to stand next to someone who isn’t yours.)

Your Drivesuit is grey. Jungkook’s is white. There’s a subtle hologramatic sheen laid across the planes of his armour, leaving him a multicoloured vision that shines out under the flicker of the cockpit’s endless tiny buttons and lights. Your own suit is a matte, gunmetal with accents of burning scarlet, far more battered and worn. Dark and wild in the face of Jungkook’s radiance. He’s the perfect answer to the kaiju invasion. You, though, feel like an interloper in a space that wasn’t designed for you, this circle room that’s been home to Jungkook and his true, real partner.

But he’s looking at you like there’s no one else he’d rather have by his side.

He doesn’t care that everything about this moment just cements how he’s too good for you in every conceivable way, elevated above you. Doesn’t care that you’re just a temporary stop gap. There’s trepidation, of course, skittering nerves that dance across his face for this first Drift, surrounded by all the commotion that’s swallowing the world up outside the cockpit. But there’s also that fire in his eyes, one you’ve learned to expect: Jungkook is a wildfire and will surmount any obstacle in a blaze of white-hot light.

And he wants you along for the ride.

(Burns bright for it.)

“You ready?” He asks, and the tiny tremor in his words takes you off guard even as it soothes a balm over the rash of apprehension that prickles across your skin.

(Because he’s nervous, too.)

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” you answer, truly.

His eyes crinkle into a smile, crescents of happiness as his lip peels back from his teeth. It should be jarring, seeing his sweet bunny smile in the pit of a Jaeger, so at odds with the military polycarbonate that girds his body with protection, the masculine edges of his face—but it’s not. The world is just a backdrop to Jeon Jungkook, dropping away as you fall into his eyes, twinkling stars of brightness and warmth that hold you safe, even now.

Peace and contentment steals over you. You’re almost shocked by it, the way your own face softens into a smile, the rising beat of your heart. Every ragged messy edge in you is smoothed over by Jungkook’s presence and you glow for him.

When the Conn-Pod drops, there’s the familiar weightlessness, the sway of your body in the harness as you fall. Anticipation roils through you as Bulletproof Striker’s head locks into place, whirring mechanisms securing you to nearly 2000 tons of metal, so much heavier than your own Jaeger. You’ve taken Jungkook’s usual place and he’s taken Taehyung’s, the right hemisphere, the dominant pilot, familiar with this machine in a way you’re not.

Not yet, at least.

“We’ve got this.”

Jungkook’s voice cuts through the noise, the AI talking at you, a narration of events you’ve long grown used to. You turn your head to look at him. He’s already looking at you, intent and sincere. Like always.

“Yeah,” you say. “Yeah, we have.”

There’s no point being afraid. In a few seconds, Jungkook will be in your head, washing over every part of you—and you’ll be in his, pressing your ethereal touch into every facet that comes together to make Jeon Jungkook who he is.

Seconds pass. There’s a little hitch in his breath, a stiffness to his limbs, and he shuts his eyes. You breathe in deep, deep, deep, sucking in a harsh breath into your greedy lungs—

—the timer hits zero—

—and then the Drift slams into you all at once, all encompassing and consuming, threading your minds together.

(Drifting with Yoongi is easy, the familiarity of coming home after so much time away.)

(But this?)

(This is throwing yourself into a cold lake on a hot summer’s day, bracing and refreshing and breath-stealing all at once, shocking life into every one of your limbs, so sharp and fast you’re scared you might drown before you breach the surface, water holding onto you and not letting you go. This is driving reckless and fast down empty roads, watching the world pass you in a blur, laughing in delight at the pleasure of it all. This is scaling a cliffside with nothing but your own hands and determination, digging your fingers into the unyielding rock, pulling yourself up-up-up, never letting yourself fall.)

(This is having Jungkook beside you. This is having Jungkook diving into the lake with all the grace of an Olympian before he rises to the surface, tosses his hair carelessly out of his face, and spits a mouthful of water at you with laughter in his eyes. This is having Jungkook behind the driver’s wheel, shifting gears without thought, looking away from the road to watch the way your hair dances in the wind. This is having Jungkook climbing beside you, waiting for you at the top, holding a hand out to pull you up and over so you can sprawl out beside him, exhausted and exuberant at the top of this mountain, basking in the sun with Jungkook just a hair’s breadth away from you.)

(He takes one look at you. He takes one look at all the dark of your memories, the cascading mess of your insides, the hidden things that are open to him in the Drift, cut open and peeled back for his gaze—and he doesn’t look away.)

(He sees everything, past skin and muscle and bone and nerves, even deeper, right into your heart—)

(—all the torrents that eddy the deep waters of your soul—)

(—and he doesn’t look away.)

(He doesn’t look away.)

(Can’t look away.)

(Doesn’t want to.)

(Never wants to.)

(Jeon Jungkook takes one look at you, your whole being, and he knows you.)

(And he doesn’t want you any less.)

It’s just a second, a flicker, a breath, this first connection in this Drift, falling into each other. But it’s also a lifetime, two lifetimes, four lifetimes; your memories, Jungkook’s memories, Yoongi’s memories in yours, Taehyung’s memories in Jungkook’s. Layers and layers and years and years piled over one another, a tumbling sprawl—but it’s easy. It’s easy, so easy, Jungkook seeing you, you seeing him, everything he is, everything you are, everything you are to each other, with each other, for each other. The important things. The things you need to know to navigate this together, in sync even before now, reading each other to a level neither had even realised.

And when you’ve killed the kaiju. When you’ve walked Bulletproof Striker back to shore, brought her back to the Shatterdome, back home, it doesn’t end. You lift out of the Drift, step out of your Drivesuits, as different as they are (as different as you are), and it doesn’t end.

Jungkook’s eyes linger, as heavy as a physical touch, and even as congratulations for a successful drop are bandied about you, he doesn’t leave your side. He keeps his hand against yours—not intertwined, but brushing, the curl of his fingers against your own. Touching. You’re not the protector here. He’s protecting you, in a way that doesn’t leave you feeling inferior or weak. You feel soft and warm and small and safe, pulled inexorably towards him, supported, buoyed up, and you don’t feel selfish for it.

Because he wants this.

He wants to be your comfort and your support.

He doesn’t want it to end.

(You don’t want it to end.)

And when you finally break away from those crowds, released from the shackles of responsibility and expectation—when you’re finally left alone, the two of you with each other, there’s no hesitation when you come together.

He lays you out beneath him and has you sobbing, back arching into the pleasure he draws out of your body, playing you like a maestro. Because he knows you, after all. He knows exactly how to trail his lips across your skin, your neck and stomach and thighs, painting marks across your body like it’s his personal canvas. He knows exactly how to have you twisting underneath him, how to pull those pretty sounds from your lips, fucking you with his fingers and his tongue until you’re a shaking mess. He kisses you sweet, merciless, letting you claw at his skin as you beg for more, more more more, wanting it, needing it, wanting him, needing him.

And you know he’ll give it to you. He’ll give himself to you, give you everything you ask for. You know how he wants to see you fall apart and you know how to move your body to have him gritting his teeth and staring in awe. You know how desperate he is to worship you, to show you his adoration and reverence, and you open up for him, unfurl like a flower, dripping nectar. When he finally presses into you, hot and long and thick, it’s so good you could cry. You draw him in-in-in, into your body and arms and heart, pressing your lips to the sweat at his brow, the taste of skin and salt and Jungkook bursting across your tongue.

There’s no Drift here, no curl of memories and unspoken thoughts between you. It’s physical and human, the crash of your bodies against each other, skin on skin, the thrust of his cock pressing into the dripping folds of your cunt. It’s the other half of that connection, the final piece, this thing you have with Jungkook, this perfect balance you have with him. It sears itself across your body and into your soul: it’s pleasure and passion and devotion carved into each touch of your lips and fingers, each roll of your hips, each time Jungkook makes you cum, gasping for him.

When he’s finally come apart inside you, spilling into your willing heat as you shake beneath him, arms and legs wrapped around his body as you pull him as close as you can, unwilling to let go—it still doesn’t end. You’re so wrapped up in Jungkook, in his arms, his heart, and you know he won’t let you go, either. He presses his lips against yours, chases those kisses, quiet and chaste to open-mouthed and dirty as the mood takes you, and then Jungkook rolls over you again, a spark in his eyes as he decides he’s still hungry for you.

You know, now, that all that time ago, when you carved that space for him into your chest, he’d done the same for you. He’d laid his heart at your feet and waited there, kneeling, for you to accept it, patient and willing. Staring at you with all the deep love you never thought you deserved, never thought you’d receive. But here he is. Here he is, love burning in his dark brown eyes. Eyes that have seen all the damaged, aching parts of you and love you anyway.

“I’m yours.”

Jungkook shines so bright at your words, a supernova of joy. His smile is so wide and his gaze is so soft, for you, for you, for you.

“Everything I am is for you,” he murmurs, letting the words curl into the air, settle across your skin, sink deep inside your chest. Your eyes flutter shut as you feel this touch of him inside you, wrapped around your heart.

And when you lift your hands, he comes so easily. He presses his cheek into the curve of your fingers, lets you hold him, lets you cup those lovely cheeks in your palms.

“I love you,” he says.

Right now, in this instant, there’s nothing but him. No kaiju, no Jaegers, no crumbling world, nothing. There’s only him, and you, together.

“I love you too,” you reply—and when you smile, gentle and tender, Jungkook falls in love all over again.

Burns bright for you.

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