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joelscruff · 1 year

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for what it's worth (joel miller x reader) 18+

part 3 of the soft!dom joel collection has arrived! this one tackles some backstory; it's time to see how they met and how exactly their little "arrangement" came to be. i hope you guys like it, your feedback means the world to me. i also have a kofi if you'd like to give me a tip (but of course this is completely optional). previous parts: you know i don't mean it & don't think we could help it summary: your relationship with joel has always been complicated, but it's about to change drastically, for better or for worse. rating: 18+ explicit (mdni) warnings: fem!reader, smut, age gap (reader is mid 20s, joel is mid 50s), mutual masturbation, praise kink, dirty talk, dom/sub dynamics (joel is dominant but not degrading or aggressive), mentions of porn (specifically magazines) word count: 10k (it's a doozy) | ao3 spoilers: this contains vague spoilers for part two of the video game (and most likely for season two of the show). nothing too major but i figured i should warn for it anyway.

To say that your first day in Jackson is alienating would be an understatement.

You feel like everyone is staring at you (they are) and no one will let you out of their sight (they won't). You understand immediately that there's a lack of trust which will need to be formed as soon as possible, otherwise you'll never be able to create a home here.

"They're wary of you," Maria explains in your brand new living room - you still can't believe you just went from having barely any possessions to having your own house - and gives you a weak smile, "It'll pass, they just need to make sure you don't have any ulterior motives."

You get it, but it still hurts. Especially that night when you join your new community for dinner and find yourself sitting alone in the corner of the room, poking at your food and trying not to let your emotions betray you. You're determined not to show weakness, even though you've never felt more isolated. You can feel their eyes on you constantly, like they're waiting for you to pull out a rifle and start picking them off like a shooting gallery.

There's only one person who seems to be consistently minding his own business, a middle aged man who sits in the opposite corner of the room. He's hulking and broad, kind of intimidating, but there's a softness to his jaw and the grey scruff covering it that makes you see something else, something kind. He takes large bites and seems lost in his own thoughts, eyes fixed on the wall to his left but unfocused, like he's looking through it. He's by himself too, mirroring you, but you can tell by the way people move around him that he's been here for a long time. He must just enjoy his solitude.

"That's Joel," Maria tells you, sitting next to you and following your gaze, "He's my husband's brother, came down here a few years ago."

"He doesn't stare at me like everyone else does," you say, still looking over at him, "Does he just not care or...?"

To your surprise, she laughs, and everyone who's giving you dirty looks suddenly seems to soften. You're grateful for Maria then for bothering to talk to you, to try and trust you.

"Don't ask me to explain the things Joel does, I wouldn't be able to tell you," you notice that she has a full plate of food with her and that she's decided to sit next to you for dinner, an attempt to alleviate the mistrust for you in the room. You can't help but smile, thankful.

"He's a closed book," she continues, "Even Tommy finds him hard to read and he's his own brother."

She changes the subject then, wanting to know more about you and what you've been through, a not so subtle way of trying to get some information for the council. You humor her; you have nothing to lose.

Your eyes still stray to the man named Joel every so often as you speak, but you're not sure why. After about ten minutes he gets up to leave, and you watch him place his empty bowl in the dishwashing area and give the woman working there a small smile. She smiles back, says something to him. He laughs, and you can almost hear it over the bustle of the dining area. You watch as he says something else to her in parting, gives her one more smile, and turns and walks out the door. He doesn't look at you, not even once.

Over the next few weeks, things get better. Less people are looking at you and more people are actually trying to talk to you, get to know you. You have some nice conversations and answer questions about yourself - mostly appropriate, save for the one teenager who kept asking how you got the different scars along your bicep, the long one on your neck, the one on your cheek, stories you really didn't want to recount. After hounding you for a few minutes, her friend had pulled her away with an apology, "She likes scars," she'd said sheepishly, tugging the girl's arm, "Come on, Ellie, leave her alone."

You meet everybody, shake hands and even hug a few people. You start getting invited to things, asked to suggest films for movie night, help set up some games for the kids, Tommy even asks you one evening to help him herd a few sheep that had gotten loose. They trust you, and it feels good.

You still see that man, Joel, every night in the dining hall. But that's the only place you see him. You're not sure where he goes during the day or after dinner; he must just be a bit of a recluse, which you can't blame him for. The people here are nice but a lot are overbearing and a bit too friendly sometimes, plus it's hard to find time for yourself when everyone has tasks to complete and always likes to help each other out. You begin to wonder if he'll ever notice you, which leads you to wonder why it even matters to you that he does.

Your patrols start around the three month mark. Tommy takes you out with a small group beyond the borders of the community and shows you the ropes, points out where most of the patrol spots are with a pair of binoculars and goes over the routine. Your first assignment is simple: manning the watchtower with Maria. You spend most of the patrol getting to know her, hearing about her past and telling her more about yours. You like her a lot, she's easy to talk to and has a strong spirit akin to your own. The conversation gets pretty personal around the seventh hour, and you end up telling her how exactly you got the scar along your cheekbone. She listens deeply, thoughtfully, nodding along as you detail the more difficult things you've had to deal with in the past, the things that have made you stronger.

"You're tough," she says near the end of your shift, nudging your shoulder, "You don't really belong on watchtower, do you?"

You shrug, "I mean, if there's somewhere else I'd be more useful..."

"How'd you like to head out to the ski lodge with Joel next week?"

Your ears prick up at the name and you nod quickly, unsure exactly why, "Yeah, that'd be great!"

"He knows the area well," she adds, then grimaces, "I have to warn you though, he might not talk very much. He keeps to himself, I'm sure you've noticed."

You wonder why she's so quick to put you on patrol with someone who might not even speak to you, but it starts to make sense as you're walking back from the watchtower in the early hours of the morning. Tommy exits the dining hall and walks over to the both of you with a smile, pressing a tender kiss to Maria's cheek.

"How's my girl?" he asks flirtatiously, and she bats him away playfully.

"Was just telling the new recruit that she's gonna go on patrol with Joel next week," she replies, and Tommy stops in his tracks, raising an eyebrow.

"Her? With Joel?" he appraises you and bites his lip, "I don't know, honey, wouldn't she be better off with someone who'll actually talk to her? I thought she was on watchtower with you."

"Tommy, I never see you anymore," she gives him an exasperated look, "The weekends used to be for us and ever since the Kingstons left-"

"I know, I know," he looks at you again, twisting his mouth in thought, "I've been, uh, a lot busier than usual lately. We had this family here for a while, big family, they helped out with the patrols. But they decided to go south a few months back, so-"

"So Tommy's been filling in for every shift he can," Maria finishes for him with a sigh, "And I never see the damn idiot anymore."

You smile, "I'm totally fine with taking over for you, really."

Tommy raises an eyebrow, "Seriously? You sure?" Maria slaps his arm lightly and he gives her a look, but then shrugs, "I mean, okay, if you wanna give it a try. It won't be all the time or anything, maybe just every other weekend, but it would actually be a big help."

"It really would," Maria adds, "You have no idea."

"But... you gotta understand, my big brother, he's.... he's complicated," Tommy's expression is serious now as he looks at you, "He's not very talkative these days, not since..." he shakes his head and you don't push it any further, though you do wonder what's changed.

"So you'll do it?" Maria asks, eyes bright.

"Even if he doesn't talk to you?" Tommy adds with a grimace.

You nod, somehow believing it won't actually be that bad.

It is that bad.

The first time you're officially introduced to Joel he doesn't even bother to shake your hand, just nodding vaguely to you as you stand there like an idiot with your palm outstretched. Tommy makes a face at him and then looks back to you with a reassuring smile.

"There's not usually much trouble up at the ski lodge," he says kindly, ignoring Joel's ambivalence, "The trek back and forth is arguably the worst part. The lifts were already damaged beyond repair when we got here so it's a bit of a hike, 'bout an hour to get up there and the same back."

You begin to wonder if maybe this really isn't the best idea, eyeing Joel silently as Tommy explains what you should expect. You've seen this man smile, know he's capable of making some kind of small talk, but it's clear that you're not an ideal candidate as he stands there stiffly and lets Tommy do the talking. Tommy had told you earlier that if the patrol didn't go well he wouldn't make you do it again, and you're already thinking this might be your first and last shift with Joel.

Tommy walks with both of you to about the halfway point, still going over the routine as Joel trudges silently ahead of you. He hasn't said a word, not one word. It's honestly starting to piss you off.

"Well, I gotta head back," Tommy says, giving you another smile of reassurance, "I'll talk to you tomorrow, see how it went, see if we might make this more permanent." He seems doubtful but you can't blame him.

A few moments later it's just you and Joel, hiking in complete silence save for the sounds of nature. The cogs in your head frantically turn, trying to land on something you can say to make things less awkward.

"So, when's the last time you saw infected up here?" you settle on, hoping it'll be enough to start some kind of conversation.

"'Bout a month ago," he replies immediately, voice gruff but quiet, "Weren't too many."

He's got an accent like his brother but it's fainter, less obnoxious, like he's spent more time with non-southern people in the later years of his life. Tommy had said they'd grown up in Texas and lived there 'til he was in his late 20s and Joel his mid 30s, then somewhere along the way they'd separated. You don't know much else about him other than that.

"It's the people you mainly worry about though, right?" you ask, quoting something Tommy had said a few weeks back, "Tommy said you've had more run-ins with raiders than infected."

"Tommy's tellin' you too much," he replies with a grunt, "Don't know what he's even thinking sendin' some kid up here."

You feel anger rise in your chest immediately, "I'm not a kid, asshole."

He stops then, turns around and appraises you with his eyebrows furrowed. It's the first time he's actually gotten a good look at you, his gaze catching on your face for a lasting moment before his eyes fall to your gun. You feel slightly vulnerable, intimidated by his heavy stare.

"How old are you?" he asks, genuinely curious.

"Twenty seven."

His brow furrows even more, "Coulda sworn he said you were seventeen."

"Well, I'm not," you reply awkwardly.

"No, you're not," he acknowledges, "I'm sorry," He seems to mean it, giving you the smallest of apologetic nods and then turning around again to keep walking.

"You thought Tommy sent a seventeen year old up here with you? I thought you had to be eighteen to patrol outside the border."

"You do, I just wouldn't put it past Tommy to send a kid up here with me," he grumbles, "Wouldn't be the first time."

"...Why?"

"None of your business."

"Okay, but now I'm just thinking you're some kind of pervert," you say it in a joking manner but he doesn't laugh. Instead, he stops again and spins around, looking at you with what you can only explain as pure rage. You flinch backward, eyes widening.

"Do I look like a fucking pervert to you?" he asks, voice hard and angry.

"I was joking," you say immediately, shaking your head frantically, "It didn't land."

"No, it fucking didn't," he starts walking again at a faster pace, leaving you standing there completely floored.

Yeah, it's bad.

"Ellie's not speaking to him," Tommy explains to you the next morning in the dining hall, hands gripping his coffee mug. You've just told him about your patrol with Joel and the horrible impression you've already managed to make. "I really shouldn't be telling you this but with an outburst like that...I need you to understand why he reacted the way he did."

You look at him, bewildered, "Ellie? That teenager who plays guitar down by the stream?" And the one who'd relentlessly bothered you with questions about your scars, but you keep that part to yourself.

"Yeah, she's...well for all intents and purposes, she's Joel's kid. And she stopped talking to him a while ago, maybe six or seven months back now," he takes a sip of coffee, "Don't ask me why 'cause I have no idea. I've asked both of them and neither'll give me any kind of explanation. All I know is they ain't speakin' and he's heartbroken over it."

"Must've been a bad argument," you say, scrunching your nose in thought, "I mean...seven months? That's a long time to not speak to someone, especially your dad."

"Eh, you haven't met Ellie. She's one of the most stubborn people I've ever met. They both are," he shakes his head, "Anyway, you calling him a perv probably pissed him off 'cause Ellie's real special to him, a surrogate daughter. He wouldn't like someone misunderstanding that, seein' somethin' dirty or wrong there."

"I wasn't-"

He puts a hand up, nodding, "I know you weren't, I get it, no worries. It's partly my fault anyway 'cause he's right, I have tried to send a teen or two up with him, thought it'd do him good to mentor somebody again. But he doesn't want it, I know that now. He doesn't want it if it's not Ellie."

"Well, he doesn't seem to like me anyway, no matter how old I am," you sigh, leaning back in your chair and crossing your arms, "I mean, he didn't talk to me once after that, not for the whole shift. It was bad. I don't know if it's gonna work, Tommy. I'm sorry."

He nods and gives you a small smile, thumbing the handle of his mug, "It's okay, I didn't think it'd work out anyways." He tries to hide the disappointment in his expression but fails miserably, and you leave the dining hall feeling bad about your failure.

A few days later you're back in the dining hall finishing up dinner, chatting with a few of the community members who you've warmed up most to. There's not many, but you are starting to find yourself feeling more and more comfortable around people as the days go on, more like yourself. You're caught up in a story about an infected you'd encountered in a gas station when their gazes suddenly divert from you and instead fix above your head. Confused, you slow your words and turn around.

"Oh, hi," you say, voice a bit breathless when you see Joel standing there, hands in his pockets, "Did you need something?"

"I, uh, wanted to talk to you," he says it softly, kindly, completely the opposite of how he'd talked to you before, "When you're finished, of course."

"Oh, yeah, sure," your words are broken and awkward, "Uh, I'll meet you...?"

"I'll be outside the main doors," he says quickly, "Take your time."

"Okay, I'll be out in a few."

He nods to you and then to your friends, then turns on his heel and walks out through the big double doors at the end of the dining area. You watch him go, bewildered.

"I thought he hated you," one of your friends says, voicing exactly what you're currently thinking.

"Yeah," you reply, furrowing your brow, "So did I."

You finish your story much quicker than intended and shove away from the table, waving goodbye to your friends and bringing your empty dish to the cleaning station. You push past the double doors and scan the outside area for Joel, eyeing the picnic tables where a few people are enjoying their meals in the fresh air.

"Hey," you hear behind you, and you turn to see him leaning against the left side of the building, arms crossed, "Over here."

You walk over, trying to plan out exactly what you're going to say so you don't end up making some stupid joke again that'll push him further away from you. It turns out you don't need to, because he speaks first.

"I just wanted to tell you I'm sorry," he says it seriously, a soft and genuine look in his brown eyes, "I treated you horribly the other day, you didn't deserve that."

You raise an eyebrow, "Did Tommy put you up to this?"

He frowns, "No."

"Are you sure? 'Cause if he did...I mean, I get it. It's nice of him to look out for me like that but you really don't have to apologize. You didn't do anything, I'm the one who said the tactless joke."

"Tommy didn't say anything to me," he seems to mean it, kicking the toe of his boot against the building, "And I know you were joking, I knew it then too but I'd just..." he takes a breath, avoiding eye contact, "I was havin' a bad day. Doesn't excuse my behavior by any means but it...you just..." he finally looks at you again, expression pained, "I wasn't expectin' you to be there. Tommy only told me you were takin' over for him about ten minutes before you showed up. And then I thought you were a kid and-"

You put your hand up, silencing him, "Joel, it's okay. You don't have to explain."

"I didn't even shake your damn hand," he says gruffly, sounding genuinely ashamed.

You extend your hand to him immediately, splaying your fingers out into the cold air, "Here, shake it now." He stares at it, unsure, and you wiggle it a bit in response, "Seriously, it's okay. Let's start over, clean slate."

He slowly reaches up to take it, his much bigger hand enveloping yours completely. His grip is strong and firm and you can feel calluses along his fingers, showing you exactly who taught Ellie how to play that guitar.

"Clean slate," he repeats, and it begins.

He's annoying, but you kinda love it.

He's grumpy most of the time, hates when you don't obey his orders, isn't afraid to give you shit, and gets irritated with you very easily. But it goes both ways. You're stubborn and set in your ways, you hate being told what to do, you dish it just as much as you take it, and it doesn't take much to get you riled up. And somehow, as much as you'd both probably hate to admit it, you work well together.

After your little conversation with Joel outside the dining hall, you'd flagged down Tommy and told him you were willing to try again with Joel on another patrol. He'd looked at you like you were crazy but hadn't shot the idea down, telling you that if it's what you really wanted, he'd keep the schedule the same.

You've been up on the mountain with Joel three times now, and while there's certainly been challenges and a few arguments, it's starting to become a routine. He doesn't talk about himself - it's a bit of an unspoken rule that you dare not break - but in return you don't tell him much about you either. Your main conversation points are usually tied to your interests, not your pasts, and you find yourself discussing movies with him, as well as music and books. He's surprisingly well-read for someone in an apocalypse, but you suppose he could say the same thing about you.

The fourth trip is what sets things in motion.

"Did you catch the movie last night?" you ask nonchalantly as you hike beside him, almost to the ski lodge. It's early morning, around five, and the sun is just beginning to crest the tree line, "I don't think Maria knew about the sex scene."

He groans, reaching up to rub the space between his eyes - you've noticed that he does this a lot, a quirk you've become rather fond of.

"Yes," he replies, wincing, "I heard her givin' Tommy a piece of her mind afterwards."

"The way she was yelling for him to turn off the projector was so fucking funny," you grin at the memory, still fresh in your mind, "And listen, I get it, sex is taboo, yada yada yada, but it's not like there were any little kids there last night, it was just the teens. And it's not like it was a porno or something, it was one little sex scene."

"Oh, I know, but I think Maria's trying to keep 'em as innocent as possible for as long as she can."

"Good luck with that," you snort, "I think we all lost our innocence a long time ago, for better or for worse."

"For worse," he replies instantly, "Definitely for worse."

"You're probably right," you grimace, "Although, you know what? I've actually never seen a porno."

He raises an eyebrow at you, "Seriously? Never?"

You bristle slightly, suddenly a little self conscious, "Well, it's not like there's an adult video store in this town, is there?" You can remember them existing when you were a kid, before everything happened, but it's not like you'd had any use for them at that time.

"No, you're right," he turns away from you, lost in thought for a moment, "They do still exist though. Pornos, I mean. Just in other forms. There's a stack of magazines up at the ski lodge, actually."

Your eyes go wide, "Wait, really?"

"Yup."

"Could I maybe..." you trail off and stop speaking, realizing that you should definitely not be asking what you're thinking.

"Look at 'em?" he finishes for you, not looking behind him as he keeps walking, "And you call me a pervert."

The conversation ends there, and you don't dare try to continue it.

The day is spent keeping watch along the ski lodge balcony, binoculars passed back and forth as you trade shifts and chat here and there about irrelevant things. Your main objective in this patrol spot is to keep watch of the main watchtower's blind spots, keeping an aerial view of the border perimeter in case people - mainly raiders - decide to make themselves known. You'd thought early on in your admittance to Jackson that infected were their main concern, but you've come to learn that's not the case at all. When Joel had said they'd come across infected up here he'd been lying to you; they'd actually come across a group of raiders who'd tried - and failed - to murder Joel and Tommy during their watch. Not the most reassuring thing to hear now that you've taken over, but you needed to know.

"It's why we got the trip wires down near the entrance now," Joel had explained to you during your second patrol with him, "We won't get snuck up on again," he'd made a face, "Not unless someone decides to disobey my orders."

You'd given him a weak smile, remembering how you'd decided not to heed his warning about going outside the ski lodge after light's out and ended up almost getting your leg shot off by a booby trap, "My bad." He'd rolled his eyes and grumbled to himself.

Now that it's your fourth watch you've gotten the hang of things and have learned to enjoy the semi-solitude of being on the mountain with Joel. He's got a battery operated radio and a box of cassette tapes that keep you from being bored out of your mind, plus a few containers of books that he and Tommy had carried up over the course of a few patrols. Now that you really think about it, you don't remember seeing any of the aforementioned porn Joel had spoken of in any of those crates.

It's midday when you decide to glance through them again out of curiosity, handing the binoculars over to Joel and slipping past him as he traipses out onto the balcony. You head for the boxes immediately and start to dig through them, not sure exactly what you're even looking for. Someone naked, you guess.

"They're not in there," Joel calls to you after a few minutes and you stiffen, turning to look at him through the glass where he can very clearly see what you're doing. He's got a shit-eating grin on his face and you feel your skin flush red.

"I don't know what you're even talking about," you call back, walking away from the books and plopping yourself in the chair by the unlit fireplace, which has somehow become your chair via another unspoken rule, "I was looking for a tape."

"Okay, well the 'tape' you're looking for is in the back of the supply closet," he sounds like he's fighting back laughter and your skin burns even more, "Underneath a box of cleaning supplies."

"I'm ignoring you," you yell out, "Get back to work."

You swear you hear a muffled laugh through the glass.

When he comes in from his shift he barely looks at you, just pushes past you lightly and heads for the supply closet. You follow behind him, heart pounding a bit harder in your chest the closer you get to the stash. He opens the closet door and you watch as he yanks out the cleaning supplies, then digs a bit deeper and reappears with six or seven magazines in his arms.

"Here," he leans them toward you and you hesitantly reach forward to take them from him, "They're mostly from the 90s."

"And you know this because....?" you raise an eyebrow and you swear his cheeks go pink.

"I'm a man," he shrugs, trying to be nonchalant as he passes you again to head back to the living room.

"Perv," you call after him, but he doesn't turn around this time.

"You got ten minutes."

You've never seen so much nudity in your life, which is saying something considering you'd seen your fair share of it back in your QZ when life had been a bit easier. But seeing it on paper, in photographs that have somehow lasted through years of this shitty reality, it's something else entirely. You stare with wide eyes at the onslaught of naked bodies, most of which are posed in extremely graphic sexual positions, and feel your heart continue to pound in your chest.

Without much thought you'd opened the first magazine right there where Joel left you standing outside the supply closet, and you now find yourself sitting in said closet with your flashlight aimed at the pages, breathing heavily and trying to comprehend exactly how you feel about what you're looking at. A lot of it feels kind of fake, especially the looks on the faces of the models, but there's enough sexual energy there that makes you start to feel a bit wet in your underwear, a feeling you haven't experienced for quite some time; not since a few a years ago in the QZ when you'd been in your last relationship.

"I gave you ten minutes," you suddenly hear Joel say from the other room, and you quickly scramble to your feet and frantically shut the magazine, "In case you forgot, it's your turn."

"Fuck," you trip out of the closet and dash to the living room, clutching your brand new collection of media to your chest, "Sorry, I got distracted."

He stands by the balcony door and looks you over quickly, eyes scanning from the magazines to your face and back again, "Enjoy yourself?" his expression is unreadable and it makes you self conscious.

"Oh please," you reply, making a face, "Do not start."

"So which was your favorite?" he asks you casually once darkness has fallen and you're both safely settled in the lodge for the night.

"Which what?"

He looks at you from over his book and gives you a look, like he's questioning your sanity. You stare for a moment and then slap your hand over your eyes when you realize.

"Oh for fuck's sake," you groan, "I'm never gonna hear the end of this now, am I?"

He laughs and you look over at him again, laying there on the couch with a smug look on his face. You retaliate by grabbing the pillow behind you and tossing it at him, making him drop the book he's reading.

"Hey!" he reaches down to pick it up again, "I showed them to you, I'm allowed to ask."

"False," you say, flipping your hair, "And for your information, I only managed to look at one of them."

He chuckles to himself and returns to his book, "Okay, okay, I'll leave you alone. I was just kiddin'."

"Joel Miller? Kidding?" you make a faux-shocked face, "I fear we've entered the Twilight Zone."

"Don't even pretend you know what that is," he says it seriously but his smile betrays him, "You didn't know about the Twilight Zone 'til I told you about it last week."

"That's just what I wanted you to think."

He rolls his eyes and keeps reading, letting the silence take over again. You watch his eyes scan the page back and forth, taking in the story - whatever it is - and transporting himself to another world, away from the ski lodge. He does this every patrol once it's too dark to see outside, sets the battery powered lantern to its highest setting and reads until he falls asleep. You wish you had his concentration and focus; instead, you curl up in the red armchair and force your eyes shut until your thoughts quiet down enough to let you sleep. Which is difficult tonight especially, seeing as all you can think about are those damn magazines.

After about five more minutes of silence you take a deep breath, then quietly say, "The one with the blonde girl in the bunny ears."

You don't dare look at him, waiting for his response and focusing instead on the empty fireplace beside you. You hear the crinkling of paper as he dogears the page of his book and then the gentle thud as he places it on the floor.

"That's a good one," he says just as quietly.

Another moment of silence passes, and your skin feels like it's on fire as you whisper, "I like the page where she's like...bent over."

"I can't remember the pages, if I'm being honest," he replies, "I haven't looked at them in a while."

You nod to yourself, "Well, there's this page where the guy has her bent over a table. And he's like...pounding into her from behind." You wait for him to say something else but he doesn't so you continue, "It's one of the only pages where she actually looks like she's enjoying herself."

"Hey, uh, I really was just kiddin'," he says awkwardly, "You don't have to tell me, it's okay."

"Oh," you can't help but sound dejected and embarrassed, your fingers trembling a little bit as you push a loose strand of hair behind your ear, "Sorry."

"I mean, if you want to, you can," he corrects, sounding slightly embarrassed himself, "I know you probably....you probably want to talk about it."

You bite down on your lip and sigh exasperatedly, placing your hands over your face, "Kinda," you mumble against your fingers, "It's all I can think about right now."

"Did it make you uncomfortable?" he asks, voice still gentle, "A lot of people are offended by that kinda stuff, you wouldn't be the first person to find it weird."

"It's definitely weird," you take a shaky breath and drop your hands, "But no, I'm not uncomfortable. It was....I mean, it was hot," you bite your lip, "I haven't even thought about sex for a long time so it made me...uh..."

The silence is deafening and apparently neither of you wants to break it as you sit there without speaking, letting your words hang in the dead air. You suddenly feel like you want to crawl out of your skin for saying anything to begin with, for even asking about the magazines in the first place.

"Wet?" he suddenly says, voice breaking a bit, "It made you wet?"

"Very," you reply, relieved that he's not freaked out and trying to change the subject.

"Well, that's normal," he says, voice stiff.

You can't help but laugh, finally peering over at him and seeing that he's just laying there, staring at the ceiling, "I know it's normal, Joel. It's not my first time being turned on, trust me."

"Well, what am I supposed to say?" he grumbles, looking at you in exasperation, "You can't just say that and expect me to give you a casual response. It made you wet, you got turned on, congratulations."

You stare at him, watching as he reaches for his book again, "Wait," you clamor out of the chair and reach beneath it to grab the magazine you'd looked at earlier. You shuffle over to him, thumbing through the pages until you find the right one, "Here," you open to the correct page and show it to him, "This is the one I'm talking about."

His eyes assess the page, his Adam's apple bobbing heavily in his throat as he takes in what you were referring to. He nods slowly, "Okay yeah, I see what you mean. She's about to come, that's why she looks like that."

Your brow furrows, "You can tell that from a picture?"

He shrugs, eyes still on the magazine, "Well, see, he's rubbin' her clit," he points to it and your face goes hot again, "And he's fuckin' her pretty hard. So yeah, I'd say she's either already comin' or about to." his gaze shifts back to you, noticing that you're staring, and he awkwardly pushes the magazine back toward you, "What?"

"I just..." you swallow, shaking your head apologetically, "Sorry, it just sounded really dirty hearing you say that."

He suddenly looks uncomfortable, shifting on the couch and leaning away from you as he crosses his arms, "Well, you asked."

"I know, I don't mean it in a bad way," you step back and realize you're suddenly throbbing in your jeans, feeling that familiar wetness again, "It just... hearing you say it out loud like that, it makes the picture hotter, somehow."

He looks at you, gaze trailing from your eyes to your lips. You suddenly feel like you've said too much, exposed even though you're fully dressed, and you walk back over to the chair and quickly plop back down in it. You give him another look and see his lips parting like he's going to say something else. Instead he takes a breath and drops his eyes from your face, twisting around on the couch to face the opposite way, "It's late, we should sleep."

"Y-yeah," you breathe, crossing your legs, heart stuttering as your clothed core presses wetly against the denim of your jeans. "You're right."

You curl back up in the chair and try to calm your breath, slow your heart, try not to focus too much on the fact that hearing Joel of all people say the phrases he's rubbin' her clit and fuckin' her pretty hard has made you start falling to pieces. Do you even see Joel that way? Has there ever been a moment where you found yourself thinking about him like that? You want to tell yourself the answer is no, that your body is simply experiencing some pent-up sexual frustration and he has nothing to do with it, but you know you'd be lying to yourself.

He's hot. It's not some shocking revelation or something you've realized over time. There's a reason you'd felt so drawn to him that first day in the dining hall, a reason you'd watched out for him every day and hoped he'd notice you. Hell, there's a reason you're still doing patrols with him despite him being a pain in the ass. You're not an idiot, you know yourself well enough by now to know what these things mean.

You're attracted to him. You've been attracted to him this whole damn time.

You shut your eyes tight and curl up into a ball, holding your knees to your chest. He's rubbin' her clit, his voice echoes in your mind, and your cunt begins to ache.

Stop thinking about it, you shake his words away and try to focus on falling asleep. There's no way you're gonna touch yourself right now, not with him in the room, and you're not gonna excuse yourself either like some horny teenager. You can do this, you can get through it, it'll go away soon.

It doesn't go away.

About twenty minutes later you're still sitting there with your eyes shut, trying your hardest not to touch yourself. But it's so fucking difficult. His words are playing on a loop in your head, over and over, soft yet rough, kind yet sexy, his southern drawl making it all the more hotter:

She's about to come, that's why she looks like that.

He's rubbin' her clit.

He's fuckin' her pretty hard.

I'd say she's either already comin' or about to.

You squirm in the chair, imagining what he'd sound like whispering that in your ear with his fingers pumping in and out of you as you came undone beneath him. Rubbin' her clit, his voice breathes in your mind, fuckin' her pretty hard, she's about to come.

You're ten seconds from breaking your own rule and heading back to the supply closet to find some release when you hear an unfamiliar sound coming from a few feet away. Your eyes flutter open, thoughts stopping momentarily as you try to figure out what it is. You turn slightly in your chair to see if Joel hears it too, and you feel your breath stop completely.

He's turned off the lantern so you can't see him properly, but you can make out the shadow of him in the moonlight, see the long shape of him directly mirrored against the floorboards and his hand stroking himself up and down, quick and rough. Your lips part in disbelief, realizing the noise you're hearing is the sound of his palm slapping against the base of his cock as he jacks himself off.

You've gotta be fucking kidding me.

Here you've been, desperately trying to push away any and all sense of desire so you wouldn't make a fool out of yourself, wouldn't make him uncomfortable, and here he is doing that exact thing. Angrily, almost out of spite, you sit up in the chair and stuff your hand down your jeans.

Two can play at that game, asshole.

Your finger goes straight to your clit and you begin to rub it furiously, eyes trained on the dark outline of his hand moving up and down. You can only vaguely make out the shape of him but it's enough to make you start dripping, the base of your palm getting slick as you stimulate yourself continuously. He's well endowed, that much is obvious, and you watch his silhouette as he releases his large cock for a moment to bring his hand to his mouth and lick a stripe along his palm. You have to bite down on your lip to suppress the moan that threatens to bubble from your throat at the action, watching through lidded eyes as he brings his wet hand back down and fists himself once more.

Without much thought you slip your middle finger inside yourself, eyes trained on him as you pretend it's his cock pushing past your entrance. It's pretty difficult to imagine though, considering his cock is probably five times as girthy as your one finger, but you make do. You can kind of make out the shape of the tip, wide and shiny, disappearing and reappearing over and over. You slip a second finger inside and bite back a whimper.

The only sounds in the room are the slapping of his skin and the sudden wet squelch of your fingers; you don't even bother to try and make it softer, you're getting off now whether he knows or not, the fullness overwhelming you as you lick your lips and furrow your brow. You haven't masturbated in a long time; you know it won't take you long to get what you need.

"Are you-" he suddenly gasps into the darkness, and your head snaps up to look at him again, heart pounding when you see that his hand has stilled on his cock and he's looking over at you with an expression of pure disbelief.

You should probably be embarrassed, apologetic, but instead you can't help but feel a rush of pride, of spite, as he realizes what you're doing.

"Like you're not," you hiss back, practically spitting as you continue to fuck yourself, "I'm not deaf."

"Thought you were sleepin'," he says back, and you can see his fingers clench around his length, like he's doing everything in his power not to stroke himself.

"And that makes it less weird?"

He groans and lets go of himself completely, sitting up slightly on the couch and shaking his head like he's trying to wake himself up from a dream he isn't having. When he looks at you again his eyes fall to where you're still getting off, not bothering to be sneaky about the way he practically bores a hole in your jeans with his gaze.

"So what are you gonna do about it?" he challenges gruffly, eyes coming back up to meet yours, the hint of a cocky smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth.

Oh, he's proud of himself, isn't he?

You glare at him, "I'm not gonna do anything about it, Joel. I'm gonna keep going," you mean it too, fingers not even slowing down as you pant breathlessly in his direction, "And you can stay here or you can go, doesn't matter to me."

It does matter, actually, it really does. If he was to get up and walk out... it would basically be a rejection, something you're not sure you'll be able to deal with. You don't break eye contact with him, staring him down as you give him your own challenge.

He swallows, gives you one last look, and then flops back down into a horizontal position as he reaches for himself again. He returns to his quick strokes, almost purposely more heavy this time as he mutters, "No talking. Let's just do it and forget it even happened, deal?"

"Deal," you reply immediately, and add a third finger.

It doesn't take long for you to find your release, a particularly hard slap of skin from Joel on the couch pushing you over the edge. You don't try to stifle your moan this time, focusing completely on enjoying your orgasm as your hand stills in your pants and you begin to shake in the chair. Your hips buck pathetically, eyes shutting tight as you whimper and cry out in pleasure.

"Jesus Christ," you hear Joel pant a few seconds afterward, followed by a long groan as he starts to come too, "Fuck."

You manage to catch a glimpse of the way he twists his wrist, aims his cock against his button-down and stains it with his release. You wish you had a better view, that it wasn't so dark, but just hearing him come apart is enough. It's exactly what you hoped it would be.

You lay there in silence for a few moments, both of you panting breathlessly from your orgasms as the weight of what you've just done starts to creep in. You're suddenly slightly afraid of what he'll say, what he'll do. Will he get mad? Will he say he doesn't want to patrol with you anymore? You decide immediately that you don't want him to have the first word.

"What were you thinking about?" you ask, barely a whisper.

It takes a few moments for him to reply, and you start to worry that you've already ruined everything, but then he answers.

"Bunny ears," he says quietly.

"What?"

"I was thinkin' about the bunny ear girl," he's still breathless, "From the magazine. Weren't you?"

You figure you can't dig the hole any deeper.

"I was just watching you, Joel," you breathe, feeling butterflies tingle in your belly at the words, "Didn't have to think about anything else."

He doesn't say anything for a moment, then mumbles something to himself that you don't understand. You can't fully make out his expression but you swear you see him frown in the moonlight, not exactly the response you were aiming for. He suddenly turns on the couch again to face away from you, exhaling loudly, "Go to sleep."

The words strike you hard, lips parting in surprise. You obviously hadn't expected him to completely reciprocate, to jump into your arms and kiss you, but that? "Go to sleep"? What the fuck kind of a response is that? You stare at him, hoping against reason that he'll turn around again and apologize, say something different, but he doesn't.

"Yeah, sure," you mutter, curling back up into a ball in the chair and hoping sleep finds you as soon as possible so you don't have to think anymore, "Asshole."

You hope he hears you.

You wake the next morning to the sound of someone rummaging nearby, and you open your eyes blearily to see Joel crouched near the door, packing his bag. You stretch and yawn automatically, momentarily forgetting what had transpired between the two of you last night. His head tilts up to look at you and it all comes flooding back when you see that familiar frown on his face.

"Do you ever smile?" you say, voice rough with sleep.

He rolls his eyes and goes back to his pack, shaking his head, "Like you're so chipper."

"Well, at least I have a good reason to be annoyed," you snap, sitting up in the chair and stretching your legs, "Asshole."

"You love to call me that, don't you?"

"Just calling it like I see it," you mutter, pulling yourself up and heading past him to the door, "I'm taking a piss."

"Watch out for th-"

"The trip wires, I know," you interrupt coldly, "I'm not an idiot."

He doesn't say anything else but you feel his eyes on your back as you walk out onto the balcony and down the steps. You both have to pee in the woods when you're out here - the ski lifts aren't the only things that don't work properly anymore - so you've managed to each figure out your own designated area. You feel relieved once you're out of his eyesight and beneath the thick layer of tree branches that keep your makeshift bathroom secluded.

You really shouldn't be so pissed at him, it's not like he owes you anything. You know you're projecting your own feelings onto him and that it isn't fair, but god, him telling you to go to sleep after you'd essentially confessed your attraction to him makes your blood boil. He'd really had nothing else to say? Couldn't have come up with something a little softer, a little kinder? Let you down easy?

You grumble to yourself on the way back up the steps, questioning whether or not you should keep ignoring him or just get over it. Is it really worth an hours hike of hostility? You already know this is your last shift with him, there's no way you can come back from this in any way that will keep your dignity intact. It's over.

"You say you're not a kid but you sure do act like one," Joel says the second you re-enter the ski lodge, and you stop dead in your tracks. He's got his arms crossed, nose flaring in anger, "I'm sick and tired of the silent treatment, the cold shoulder, all that shit. What happened to people just talkin' to each other?"

You shut the door behind you and shake your head, "I'm not giving you the silent treatment Joel, calm down."

"Don't tell me to calm down," his voice is firm but you can hear some emotion there, something deeper. He doesn't like being ignored and you know why, but it doesn't soften your resolve.

"I'm pissed at you, yeah," you admit, shrugging, "But I think I have a pretty valid reason."

"And what is it?"

You stare, scrunching up your face in confusion, "Are you serious? Jesus, Joel, I thought you were smart."

"Oh, fuck off," he grumbles, rolling his eyes again, "I ain't a mind reader."

You shake your head again, inhaling deeply, "I'm not asking you to read my mind, Joel," you exhale and try to calm yourself, feeling the angry tears begin to sting your eyes. God, you hate how emotional you get when you're angry. You hate showing weakness like this.

"Then tell me," he groans, "Is it about last night? 'Cause I thought we made a deal that we're not gonna talk about it."

You laugh at his words, cold and hard, "Right, yeah, sorry. Deal's a deal, right? My bad," you couldn't sound more sarcastic if you tried, stuffing your roll of toilet paper back in your pack and zipping it up, "Come on, let's just head back and forget about it." Your voice cracks on the last few words and you bite down hard on your lip, feeling the tears spill over.

"Are you crying?" his voice falters, and you hear a twinge of kindness in his tone, something you'd desperately wanted to hear last night.

He crosses the room before you even have a chance to reply, striding over to you and placing his hand on your shoulder firmly, making you turn around. His face softens immediately when he sees the tears streaming down your face, the tears you're already trying to wipe away.

"Fuck," he says, brow furrowing in concern, "I'm sorry."

You snort involuntarily, shaking your head, "I'm just stupid."

"You're not stupid," it's almost a whisper, "I'm the stupid one, believe me," he brings his hand up like he's going to touch your face but seems to think better of it, bringing it back to your shoulder again, "I shouldn't have... I don't know what I was thinkin' last night, I'm sorry. You showed me that magazine and-"

You put your hand up to silence him, "I don't care about why, Joel. I don't even care that you did it, it's not like I told you to stop."

His brow furrows deeper, "Then what...?"

You close your eyes, breathing deeply before putting on your best impression of him and mumbling, "Go to sleep," like he had the night before, opening your eyes again to see if he understands.

He stares at you for a few seconds, confused, but you watch as it suddenly dawns on him, realization spreading across his features. He suddenly lets go of your shoulder and takes a few steps back, eyes falling to the floor.

"You can't... you can't think of me that way," he says it gruffly, swallowing and shaking his head.

You stand there without saying anything, waiting until he finally looks back up at you to speak. When he does, you make sure to look directly in his eyes.

"Why not?"

His hand comes up to touch the back of his neck and you swear you see patches of red begin to bloom along his collarbone, like he's embarrassed...or flattered? You take a step forward and he quickly takes another step backward.

"If it's because of the age thing... I really don't care, Joel," you say earnestly, heart beginning to beat heavily in your chest, "I think you're..." You can't believe the words are even coming out of your mouth, the tears on your face already beginning to dry as you try to process this new situation you've found yourself in, "I think you're sexy."

His brow furrows again, not in anger but in confusion. He doesn't take another step backward when you move toward him this time, staying rooted in place as you peer up at him, waiting for him to speak. He remains silent, his eyes trained directly on your face, lips set in a firm line.

"You don't believe me, do you?"

He shakes his head slowly, "I don't."

"Why?"

He doesn't reply, just keeps staring at you like he has absolutely no idea what to say. You suddenly feel the need to reassure him, comfort him. Your hand moves upward, aching to cup his face in your hand, feel that grey scruff beneath your palm.

He pulls back before you get the chance, shaking his head again, "Don't," it's barely a whisper, voice breaking as he says it, "Just...gimme a minute."

"Okay," you nod, dropping your hand, "I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizin'," he breathes, still not breaking eye contact, "Just let me think, please."

You swallow, teeth tugging on your lip as he continues to stand there motionless. He's still looking at you but his thoughts are miles away; you can practically see the wheels turning in his head, calculating exactly what he's supposed to do in a situation like this. Part of you wants him to kiss you, part of you wants to kiss him, part of you wants to wait until he makes a decision. You settle firmly on the third option.

"I lied," he finally breaks the silence, jaw tense and firm, "I wasn't thinkin' about that fuckin' bunny ear model."

Your lips part; you hadn't been expecting him to say that.

"Then...what were you thinking about?" You already know the answer before he replies.

"You," his voice is strained, broken, like he's holding himself back, "I was thinkin' about you and the stupid magazines in the supply closet."

You feel your skin flush, a tingle trailing up the back of your neck as you try not to show him how pleased you are, "W-what?"

"I couldn't stop thinkin' about you in that closet, lookin' at those pictures, getting...." he trails off and swallows, then whispers, "Wet. Gettin' all wet in your panties from that girl getting fucked."

His words send an immediate throb to your core and you can feel your heart in your throat, pounding relentlessly as he continues to speak, continues to say exactly what's been on his mind as you stand in front of him, so much smaller than him, letting his words get lost in the sudden warmth of your body and the buzz of your thoughts.

"I couldn't stop thinkin' about it," he repeats, voice rough, eyes dark, "Your wet panties, your big eyes, your..." he practically chokes then, "Your pussy, all wet and aching."

"Oh my god," you whimper, crossing your legs involuntarily as you feel an immediate surge of wetness in your underwear, "Please, keep talking, please."

"Wanted to see it and touch it," he murmurs, his breath ghosting across your face as he peers down at you with desire in his eyes, "Wanted to fuck it and make you come."

Without hesitation your arms shoot up to wrap around his neck, burying your face in his warm chest and tugging at the collar of his coat, "I want you to," you practically moan, clawing at the material, "Joel, I need you to fuck me right now."

To your absolute dismay he reaches up and removes your arms from him, taking a step back so neither of you are touching. His eyes are so dark, pupils blown wide and that red blush of heat now spread all over his neck and cheekbones.

"I can't," he says, shaking his head, "I'm sorry, I can't."

You're about to protest, whine and beg if you have to, but his eyes fall to your groin. You watch with wide eyes as he goes for his belt, begins to unloop it and remove it.

"Take your pants off," he groans, and you don't need telling twice.

You end up masturbating together again, this time in the light of day. You find yourselves laying on the couch where he'd slept last night, the memory of what he'd done there fresh in your mind as you pump two fingers in and out of yourself steadily and watch him stroke his cock to match your pace. He watches you behind hooded eyes, his lips parted as he pants and gets himself off to your pleasure, watches you do the same thing to him.

"That's it," he murmurs, eyes scrunching in arousal as he scans your face, watches you come undone, "Rub your clit, nice and fast."

You whimper, unable to hold on for much longer as you eye his cock and see the way the fat head of it drips for you, slicking his hand and allowing him to stroke faster and faster. You want to say something to help get him off too but your words are completely lost in the sensation; you couldn't speak even if you wanted to.

He knows you're about to come, can see it in your face the way he saw it in the face of the model in the picture. He swallows heavily and fucks himself impossibly faster, harder, silently asking you to match his pace. You do it, thumbing your clit and feeling the tense coil in your belly snap as your jaw drops and you let out a long and ridiculously loud moan. Your eyes shut tight and you throw your head back, feeling your body begin to shake from the stimulation.

"There you go," he grunts, and you hear the slapping of skin stop as he rides out his own release, coming into his fist, "Fuck." Your eyes open at just the right time to see his jaw go slack, eyes practically rolling into the back of his head from the pleasure. It somehow makes you ache for more, even though you can't possibly imagine being any more overstimulated than you already are.

You both lay there, chests heaving, hearts pounding, completely undone. It goes without saying that you've both just managed to each have one of the best orgasms of your lives.

"New patrol rule," you whisper to him, legs still wide and cunt dripping with your release, "We do this. Every time. Please."

"Yes," he replies immediately, still catching his breath, "I can do that."

"It can't be any more than this," Joel says to you quietly as you hike down the mountain a little while later, the sunrise cresting the trees again the way it had yesterday when you'd hiked up; it's like nothing has changed, but you both know that everything has.

"Okay," you say just as softly, though part of you aches to reach for his hand, loop your pinky through his and have some degree of touch between you. But you can tell he means business, that there won't be any more discussion on the matter today.

"Just this," he whispers, glancing at you with a meaningful look, eyes soft and tender as he peers at you, knowing what he's done, what he's started.

"Just this," you agree, but you don't really believe it.

You hope, deep down, neither does he.

thank you so much for reading! there will be more in this collection coming very soon. i'd like to do some short fics of certain nights they've had, especially the first time he calls her a good girl. that was originally going to be in this part but it was just getting wayyy too long and i have so many ideas i need to flesh out more lol. i'm also going to continue where they left off in "don't think we could help it", and yes, eventually they will do the deed, i promise. among other things....

if you liked it, please let me know! and again, if you'd like to give me a tip you can do so on my kofi 💖

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #*#fic: soft!dom joel

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dixons-sunshine · 11 days

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Love your work it’s amazing and helps me with so much shit in my life🎀 been feeling so down insecure lately .could you write something about female reader being really insecure about her appearance and her mind and intelligence ,looking at herself in mirror and Daryl catching her do it. just pure fluff him feeling bad because he wants her to see herself the way he does

That's What Makes You Beautiful | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: While getting ready for the party at Deanna Monroe's house with the other women, old insecurities crept up again after being dormant for a while. However, Daryl won't have his beautiful girl thinking bad things about herself.

Genre: Kinda angsty to fluff.

Era: Alexandria, pre Saviour arc.

Warnings: Swearing, insecurities.

Word count: 1.6k

A/n: This was heavily self-indulgent. I struggle with body image issues, so this was easy and yet extremely hard to picture and write. But darling, even though I don't know you personally, please know that I think you're amazing and beautiful! I hope this fic portrays how much I love you, even if I don't know you personally. Daryl in this is me reassuring you that you are enough, and that you are worthy. 💜

(Also, Michonne is your hype woman in this because she is my queen and I need her to hype me up when I feel down.)

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

Laughter filled the small room that you had found yourself in with Michonne, Rosita, Sasha, Tara, Maggie and Carol. All the women were having a mini fashion show as they tried on different dresses and shoes, having the time of their lives as they did something that everyone missed from the world before the dead started walking. However, the same couldn't be said for you.

You smiled weakly at Rosita as she showed off the dress she was wearing, eyeing the way the dress fit her curves perfectly. In fact, all the women looked amazingly beautiful in their dresses. Even Carol, who wasn't wearing a dress and instead opted for a flower shirt and a pair of jeans, looked gorgeous. You couldn't deny that they all looked like princesses, and that made you feel bad about yourself—your old insecurities crept up into your mind again.

The dress that Michonne had picked out for you was splayed across your lap. You had no intention of putting it on anytime soon, preferring to want to do so without any of these stunning women in the room. You wanted to be sure of how you looked before allowing anyone to see you in the dress, and when you more than likely looked terrible in it, you wanted to be able to handle your emotions without everyone present. You didn't need to see their disgusted faces when you wore it.

“Hey, you gonna get dressed and join us downstairs or just sit there and look pretty?” Michonne asked playfully, snapping you from your thoughts.

You winced at her words, but plastered on a small smile. “You guys go on ahead. There's something I need to do before getting changed,” you lied.

Michonne frowned slightly, seeing right through your lie but choosing not to address it in front of everyone. She'd pull you aside later and ask what was wrong. For now, however, she understood that you wanted everyone to leave, and she nodded at you.

“Okay, we'll see you when you come downstairs,” she replied, ushering the other women out of the room. She turned back to you before she left, giving you a questioning look. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, why wouldn't I be?” you told her, not missing the way she sent you a disapproving look. You sighed and looked down, toying with the dress in your lap. “I'm fine. I'll meet you downstairs, okay?”

Michonne reluctantly nodded. “Okay,” she agreed, pulling the door closed behind her and leaving you alone in the room.

Sighing, you hesitantly got up and started undressing, refusing to meet your reflection in the mirror in front of you. You slowly slipped the dress on, the fabric covering your skin from your chest to your mid thighs. You adjusted the straps over your shoulders, not even trying to zip up the dress from behind. You reluctantly turned towards the mirror and physically recoiled at the sight in front of you.

You continued staring at your reflection in disgust, hating the way you looked. You started getting lost in your own self deprecating thoughts, so much so that you didn't hear the door open behind you, or the footsteps that abruptly stopped in their tracks.

“Wow.”

You flinched and spun around, locking eyes with your partner. Daryl stood by the bed, staring at you with wide eyes. He took a tentative step forward, his eyes trailing over your body.

Mistaking his wide eyes for disgust rather than awe, you crossed your arms over your chest. You tried to shield your body from his view, but Daryl walked over to you and held your arms in his hands, sending you a questioning look.

“Nah, why are ya doin' tha'?” he inquired, rubbing your arms with his hands. “Ya dun' need to hide yerself from me, 'specially not when yer lookin' so pretty all dolled up.”

Without meaning to, you let out a choked sob, tears starting to fall from your eyes. Instinctively, Daryl pulled you into his arms, hugging you tightly to his chest. He didn't know why you were crying, but he didn't care. He would comfort you through it, just like you had comforted him through so many things, ranging from his inability to track down Sophia all the way to the guilt he felt over Beth's death.

“I look ridiculous,” you choked out, your cries muffled into his chest. “Everyone looks so beautiful in their dresses and I look like this. I can't—”

“Shh, s'okay,” Daryl whispered into you ear, rocking you from side to side. “S'okay. I got ya.”

He simply held you in his arms, allowing you to cry all your negative emotions into his shirt. When you finally managed to calm down, you pulled back and tearfully looked up at him.

“I'm sorry,” you mumbled. “It's so stupid.”

“Nah, it ain't stupid,” Daryl disagreed, taking your face into his hands. “But where's this all comin' from? Why do ya think tha' 'bout yerself?”

“I can't—I don't—”

“Please, peach,” he pleaded, caressing your cheeks with his thumbs. “Talk to me.”

You shook your head, casting your eyes down towards the floor. “I don't know. I just... I grew up being bullied for my looks, about my intelligence, for just about everything. When everything went to shit, I guess those insecurities got buried, but now, wearing this dress, I—”

Daryl cut you off by pressing his lips against yours, but quickly pulled away again. He looked deeply into your eyes, keeping your face in place to ensure that you kept your eyes locked on him.

“Do ya trust me?” he asked.

You nodded your head. “Of course I do.”

“Then listen real close, sunshine,” he began softly yet sternly. “M'not sure wha' fuckin' assholes talked this shit into yer head, but yer not wha' ya think ya are. Yer so unbelievably smart, and ya've proved it a lot of times. S'cause of ya tha' we were able to save Hershel way back when. S'cause of ya tha' we found tha' store with all those supplies while we were on the run fer eight months. Yer such a badass, and yer so unbelievably beautiful. I wish ya could see yerself the way I see ya. Yeah, ya have yer flaws, but they're part of wha' makes ya beautiful. Nobody's perfect, but yer the nearest damn thing there is to it.”

You were flabbergasted. You felt like crying all over again, but from pure happiness this time. “You really think so?”

“I dun' think, I know,” Daryl confirmed. “I love ya so much, bunny.”

“I love you too,” you replied with a small smile on your face. You turned around and faced the mirror again, giving him a full view of the back of your unzipped dress. “Zip me up?”

“'Course,” Daryl nodded, gripping the zipper and slowly zipping up the dress.

You shivered slightly at the feeling of his fingers slowly brushing along your spine. When your dress was zipped up, he wrapped his arms around your waist from behind and rested his chin on your shoulder. He looked at your reflection with a small smile, staring in awe at how beautiful he found you.

“Damn, woman,” he muttered with a small chuckle. “Yer gon' be the death of me, lookin' all pretty in this damn dress. Pair it with heels and we ain't makin' it outta this room tonigh'.”

You giggled and shyly ducked your head. “That's too bad. I promised Michonne that I'd go to this damn party.”

Daryl groaned and buried his head into your shoulder. “Fuck,” he mumbled, successfully coaxing another laugh from you. “Now I gotta wait? S'fuckin' ridiculous.”

Before you could respond, Rosita and Michonne walked into the room, making you and Daryl withdraw from each other's hold. Michonne and Rosita looked at you, smiles on each of their faces.

Michonne let out a playful wolf whistle. “Look at you! You're putting us all to shame.”

“She's right,” Rosita agreed. “You're looking real stunning. Daryl will have to fight of the other men. They're all going to want your attention.”

“Hell, some ladies, too. Daryl might have to fight me off,” Michonne joked.

Daryl rolled his eyes. “Nah, I ain't lettin' anyone take her from me. 'Specially not ya, Michonne.”

Michonne laughed lightly. “Can't blame a girl for trying.”

As Michonne and Daryl bickered back and forth, with Rosita adding her own playful input, you couldn't help but feel happy. In a matter of minutes, your partner and two of your closest friends had managed to cheer you up. You doubted that your insecurities would ever fully go away, but with people you love there to remind you of your worth, you would be more than okay.

And, just to tease Daryl a bit that night, you did end up wearing the heels with the dress, and Daryl made sure you knew just how beautiful you were to him that night—by worshipping your body like the goddess you were.

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starlight-bread-blog · 9 months

Text

Things that happened in BoJack Horseman

A deep exploration of the 5 stages of grief through the stories of 3 people across time.

A realistic depiction of domestic violence, subtrance abuse, and how it all starts beautifully.

A story of a child Hollywoo star getting wrecked by life and fame which leads to an early death while also serving as a commentary of child celebrities and the way the industry can effect them.

A 50 almost taking advantege of a 17 year old and the long term effects on both of them.

A 20 minute monologue by the main character which is just a eulogy to his abusive mother (that got nominated for an Emmy).

A historically accurate story of a women from a luxurious family getting traumatized, and victimized by misogyny which leads her to a misrable life and becoming an abuser herself.

The full story of a couple getting married all the way to a divorce while unpacking why the marrige failed.

Also things that happened in BoJack Horseman

After many rewrites and changes, a movie ended up being a bimonthly curated box of snacks mid production.

Someone openned their own very unsafe DisneyLand, almost got sued but was saved because of a typo in the document copywriting DisneyLand.

An adult women dated 3 kids in a trench coat (which may or may not be a real adult).

A Hollywoo celebritie opened a store foor Halloween store for January with no floor, and Andrew Garfield fell down.

A character joined improv class that turned out to be a cult.

Character Actress Margo Martindale drive's another celebritie's bout straight to a ship full of spaggeti. Now the spagetti is cooking due to an ad that is actually a mirror, and because it's cooking, it's sinking straight to a city underwater. The Hot Sexy Killer Wale Uber and a celebritie who has just a bunch of spageti strainers laying around can stop it, but that person went to see a movie fir two hours.

A sex robot became a CEO of a company.

A Hollywoo celebritie challenged the governor of california to a ski race of which the winner will be the governor. His represent then does a bunch of legal gymnastics to make that happen. Said celebritie than admits to have no idea how to ski. In the end just some guy wins the race by accident and immediately resigns.

A house fell underground with celebrities in it so everyone kills and eats Zach Braff.

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inkstainedchessboard-if · 3 months

Text

There is an ichor creeping its way through Wonderland, devouring residents never to be seen again. That's how you got your "promotion" to the Role of the Cheshire Cat. You thought things would be okay until an Ink Well appeared right in the middle of the Red Queen's garden and took out half of the court gathered there. Now you're tasked with finding the source of the ichor and stopping it before it consumes all of Wonderland.

The Ink Stained Chessboard is a WIP and interactive CYOA novel. It is a fantasy adventure romance story with heavy focus on plot, romance, and stats. It is inspired by Alice in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass. It's being written in Twine.

So by popular vote, this is now my main focus! I'll try to keep it updated as much as possible!

Note: Because this is a WIP the name of some places or people may change between now and the final version.

Genre: Adventure, Fantasy, Romance

Rating: Not rated as of right now.

Tracked Tag: #ink stained chessboard

Demo || Romance Options || Side Characters || FAQ || Tag Navigation

In The Ink Stained Chessboard, you play as a Wonderland resident who's been "promoted" to the position of the Cheshire Cat. You were simply minding your own business one day when you were ripped from your original Role and put into the Role of the Cheshire Cat. You've been in the Role for a little bit now. As for who put you in the role? Wonderland, itself did that. A bit bizarre, but it does have a mind of its own.

Without the interference of an "Alice" figure, life is pretty normal. Odd but normal. It's not always wacky and nonsensical in Wonderland, believe it or not. When an "Alice" appears, Wonderland moves all of its pieces to tell the story again and again like a play. That's how its supposed to work anyways. But ever since this strange ink-like substance appeared the story hasn't been running smoothly like it should.

When an Ink Well appears during a tea party in the Red Queen's garden and consumes half of the court, you decide it's time to do something about this. With a group of pretty unlikely allies, you set off to find what's causing the ichor to appear and stop it.

Play as a male, female, or nonbinary Cheshire Cat

Customize the way you look, including your ears and tail and your cat form! Your normal form is humanoid with cat ears and a tail

Choose what your Role was before Wonderland made you the Cheshire Cat. Your previous Role will give you exclusive abilities not available to other roles

Choose to romance 1 of 5 options or none at all

Figure out what's going on with the ichor and why it's appearing and where do the residents it absorbs go

Make a decision with the fate of Wonderland in your hands

The Cheshire Cat - You (he/him), (she/her), or (they/them)

You play as the Cheshire Cat. You possess all the typical things associated with the cat, such as disappearing and reappearing and your iconic grin. Your previous Role will also give you specific abilities. Being put in a Main Role made you functionally immortal so you don't know how old you really are, but physically, you appear to be in your mid-twenties (24-26).

The people of Wonderland sometimes call you Chess/Chessie.

Appearance: Player Determined, although your base figure is humanoid with cat ears and a tail

The Alice - Alice/Alex Liddle (she/her) or (he/him)

A is the newest "Alice" to Wonderland. The 103rd "Alice" to be exact. Because of the ichor, their story broke apart pretty early on leaving them basically stranded in Wonderland with no direction. It's good that they're a precocious person and found their own way to the Red Queen's garden. They're a bit naive but are earnest and kind and was one of the first people to volunteer to go with you. Their only stipulation: to go home when it's done.

Appearance: A is on the shorter side of average in terms of height. Alice is 5'3 and Alex is 5'8. They both have fair skin with freckles and loosely curly blonde hair. Alice has long hair while Alex's is about medium-length. Their eyes are light blue and their frame is lithe and thin. They appear to be in their early twenties (20-23).

The Mad Hatter - Olivia/Oliver (she/her) or (he/him)

O is the Mad Hatter. They aren't the "original" Mad Hatter, but they've been in their Role longer than you've been the Cheshire Cat. They are eccentric and a bit unpredictable. That's probably why they were the second person to volunteer to go with you to figure out what's going on, after Alice/Alex. You two don't really get along, bickering often when not in your Roles, so you're surprised when they volunteered. Being a Main Role, like you, they also are functionally immortal, but appear to be in their mid-twenties (24-26), as well.

Appearance: O is pretty tall with Olivia being around 5'9 and Oliver being about 6'1. They both have clear tanned skin and orange-red hair. Their hair is mixed textures with some strands being straight and others wavy. They always keep their hair down, even if it's inconvenient. They have brown eyes and a lanky frame.

The Red Queen/The Queen of Hearts - Isabelle (she/her)

Isabelle is the Red Queen and the Queen of Hearts. You find her Role varies from "Alice" to "Alice". She's fairly new to the Role, having acquired her position around the same time you became the Cheshire Cat. She's a bit stiff and serious, trying to figure out where her role stops and where she begins. She, like her predecessors, has a passion for roses and it was her garden that was destroyed by the Ink Well. You aren't surprised when she says she's coming with you "for her rose garden". As a Main Role, she is also functionally immortal. She physically appears to be in her early thirties (30-33).

Appearance: Isabelle is a woman of about average height, standing at 5'5. She has soft brown skin and straight black hair. She has red eyes and a fuller figure.

The Jabberwocky - Fenrir (he/him)

Fenrir is the Jabberwocky. He is the second Jabberwocky ever in Wonderland. His role, like Isabelle's, varies from "Alice" to "Alice". Some "Alices" don't ever go near him while others face him. He's solemn and fairly stoic and serious. He's the last person you expected to volunteer since he prefers to be solitary, although you suspect it's because he just wants to get this over with and go back to minding his own business. As a Main Role, he is functionally immortal, but physically appears in his late twenties (27-29).

Appearance: Fenrir is pretty tall, standing at a wild 6'5. He has tanned olive skin and black hair with streaks/highlights of dull blue and green. His eyes are grey and he has an fit figure, not too muscular but not lanky either. He has a few light scars on his face.

Wonderland - ??? (it/its)

Wonderland is... Wonderland. It has a personality of its own and is the one who moves you and the others around when there's an "Alice". It's in charge of making sure the "Alice's" story runs smoothly and to get them in and out quickly. Due to the ichor appearing, it's no longer running smoothly, often forgetting to move pieces around causing a disruption of the cycle. When the Ink Well appeared in the Red Queen's garden, it seems to have stopped "working" all together.

Appearance: It's a land, so far. Notable chessboard fields?

Mysterious Figure - ??? (they/them)

What's Wonderland without one mysterious figure? After the latest Ink Well in the Red Queen's garden, you've been seeing them around Wonderland. You aren't sure if they're following you or if you're indirectly following them, but you seen them quite often. Even odder, every time you see them, they look confused. How strange...

Appearance: You haven't gotten close enough to fully look at them, but you think they at least have blue hair? Or was it purple? Maybe green or even pink? You swear it was white one time. Their skin is very pale, nearly paper white. They're tall from what you can tell. Probably around 6'2. They're clothed in a long black robe with a hood. It's a bit on the nose, don't you think?

#the ink stained chessboard #ink stained chessboard #interactive fiction #interactive novel #interactive story #if wip #if game #text based game #twine if #twine game #twine wip #twine interactive fiction #twine story

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wonwoonlight · 10 months

Text

dear autumn / jeon wonwoo

➝ Wonwoo x Reader (ft. Joshua, Seungcheol, Mingyu, etc.)

➝ nonidol!au // angst???? // romance // fluff?????? // drama...ish??? // soulmate!au // somewhat past life!au

➝ word count: 18k (lol🧍🏻‍♀️) // playlist🎶

➝warnings: curses, lots of pov changes i'm sorry lol, i'm honestly not sure if the pace is a abrupt or not?, i'm not sure how you'll like this OC, she cries quite a lot towards the end sddfgd, that's about it i think

➝A/N: happy birthday, wonwoo❤ shoutout to @ahundredtimesover who's not even a carat but readily brainstormed with me when i asked🥺😭 also special thanks to @sleeplessdawn @twogyuu @savventeen for sparing your time to talk with me when i was unsure where to go with the plot💕💕 i'm gonna talk more on the author notes at the end instead of here. enjoy! hope you'll like this and don't hesitate to drop by and tell me what you think abt it even if you... don't like it sdjhfbsjhdf

In a world where everyone bears the soulmate mark to find the one heaven perfectly made for them, Wonwoo is an outlier with no marks in sight. But he has more pressing matters to attend to because he remembers his past life and the promise he made to his soulmate that he’d find her again no matter what. Alternatively, He didn’t think he’d be reborn in a world where you are made for someone else.

Wonwoo isn’t sure when it began. But he’s eighteen when he knows why they appeared and realizes that the memories in his head do not belong to his current lifetime.

They come to him through his dreams; sometimes long, sometimes short. At first, he thinks his mind is just playing games with him, but when he wakes up with an almost perfect recollection of whatever his older self in the dream did, he eventually realizes they aren’t simply dreams.

They’re his memories from another lifetime. Which one, he’s not sure. Wonwoo imagines they’re pieces of a puzzle–a very big one–making a bigger picture he doesn’t really understand at first until he does. Until it clicks one day why the dream has been getting longer and why he’s getting them in the first place.

He’s not himself when the dream happens, more like a shadow that watches from the sideline. He’s been seeing this older self of his for quite some time; he can’t be much older than he is now, probably in his mid twenties or so.

It was weird at the beginning, knowing how he’d look (looked?) in the future (...in the past? Fuck, this is confusing), but it was even weirder to watch himself with a girl that he seemed to be so very much in love with. Not that he can’t blame his other self. They’re soulmates, after all, if the identical marks on their wrists mean anything.

The word doesn’t even sound bitter in his lips anymore, and he wonders if it ever was.

Sure, he used to question why he’s an outlier and why he deserved to have no one when everyone else around him has someone predestined for them–someone that the universe deems just right and someone that will complement them in ways unimaginable.

He’s never angry though. Just a little lonely.

It’s not easy to be surrounded by people who are happy with their fate, who have someone that they know is their person for as long as eternity allows them to live. People are subtle with their pity when it comes to him and Wonwoo would like to think it probably has to do with the fact that Wonwoo doesn’t seem bothered at all.

Outliers aren’t that rare; perhaps one every one hundred people or so, and they’re not ostracized from society, just that they need to handle the pitiful looks every now and then–which never stops being annoying.

Wonwoo knows there’s a community for people like him though he has never been one to seek companies. He’s fine the way he is. He’d attend their gatherings when it’s one of the rare days he feels like being social, but he doesn’t attend enough to feel any kind of kinship towards them. They’re just some people who he somewhat sympathizes with.

Naturally, it means the community becomes a place where people try to find their romantic partner. After all, it is frowned upon if you try to date someone with a soulmate even if they haven’t met their other half.

…Which makes it awkward when they break up because even if the community isn’t very small, they’re still a minority and they need to stick together.

Hence, Wonwoo never really bothers.

It’s not like he’s into the concept of romance. When he was a kid, it simply didn’t appeal to him. During high school, games were more worthy of his time than anything. And during university… How could he when he’s been dreaming of the same girl over and over again? Any other romance potential simply didn’t register in his mind. His parents, who obviously had no idea about the dreams, tried to talk to him about it; to try dating and find love but quickly changed their insistence once they realized their son wasn’t too bothered himself.

He doesn’t even know if she’s alive in this lifetime, and yet…

“You’re really moving, huh?” Seungcheol brings him out of his mind, reminds him that he’s packing and he needs to get things done.

“They knew I’d be the one most willing to move away.” He shrugs. “Everyone else has their significant other here. Pretty sure they asked Namjoon first but with his pregnant wife and all–yeah.”

“I’m sure you’re still a choice because you’re competent.” The older guy reassures him. “What do you need me to do to help?”

“Help me throw away those bags in the living room, please.”

“Got it.”

Five minutes later, Seungcheol pops back into his bedroom.

“Are you throwing this away too?”

Wonwoo looks at the postcard in his hands, a look of recognition passes through his face before he takes it from him before he says he’s keeping it. The older guy throws him a curious look, but Wonwoo doesn’t offer any explanation so he leaves him be and returns to the living room.

“Autumn, huh.” He mutters to himself as he stares at the rows of yellow trees and ginkgo leaves adorning the ground on the postcard.

Autumn in the city is beautiful, Wonwoo has heard. He doesn’t know how it would be more beautiful there than here with the buildings and the busy lifestyle, but perhaps he’ll take the time to find out now that he’s moving there.

Maybe he’ll find out once he’s seen it himself.

And maybe…

Maybe he’ll also–

“Should we have some jjajangmyeon for lunch? I’m starving, man. Think I’d be able to eat two servings and an entire plate of dumplings. What about ordering some shrimp also? I think–”

Yeah.

Maybe.

Four months pass by in a blink and July comes around.

The city life is better than Wonwoo expected, but it’s not like he has any particular expectations to begin with. He’s a twenty six years old doing a regular job, living a regular life. He doesn’t have any grand plans in life, doesn’t strive to climb the corporate ladder nor make any difference in the world.

By theory, he should be some kind of a main character: an outlier with no soulmate mark and memories of a past life? Wonwoo would’ve written a book had he possessed any sort of literature gifts. But he can even barely express himself, let alone pour them into writings, so there goes his spotlight.

Plus, it’s not like he has ever told anyone about the memories. He tries looking things up online, and except for some ridiculous claims that were eventually proved to be false, he barely finds anything about it that would help. And if he could find nothing in the wonderful, vast world that is the internet, he doubts he would find answers in the real world.

So he’s just another guy. Another Jeon Wonwoo in the sea of people that would pass by people’s lives and lots would forget about.

And he doesn’t mind.

He really doesn’t.

But if there’s anything he could wish for…

He looks down at the small birthday cake his brother has ordered from the delivery app for him on behalf of his parents, the package greeting him in front of his door when he has just gotten back from work. He doesn’t really celebrate his birthdays, and usually only does so if the people around him encourage him to, namely Seungcheol and his family.

Though, now that he’s actually by himself in a city he’s still trying to get familiar with, it does feel a little lonely to be celebrating it alone, if you can even call it that. At least there’s a cake from his family and he might as well keep up with the tradition.

He lights up the ‘27’ candle and stares at it for a few seconds before he closes his eyes and makes a wish. A familiar smile he’s only seen in his dreams flashes through his mind, the warmth of the small fire blankets his face for a few seconds before it goes out.

I hope I can find you… whoever you are.

He dreams of another memory that night.

But, for the first time, he’s not watching from the sideline. The love of his life is pressed to his side as she urges him to blow the candle and make a wish. She takes his face while hers scrunch up into a smile, wishing him ‘happy birthday’ that he doesn’t think is the first that day before leaning in to kiss him on the lips.

He catches a glimpse of the single ginkgo leaf on her right wrist, the same exact thing on his left.

Wonwoo wakes up with a jolt before he could taste her lips against his, a thunderstorm outside his window and another inside his heart.

Despite being born in the season, Wonwoo isn’t fond of summer.

It’s too hot and there’s almost nothing he can do about it. He would’ve stayed inside 24/7 if he could, but that’s out of the question because he needs to go to the office and the amount of people in the public transportation is not something he looks forward to.

He doesn’t like winter for basically the same reason: it’s too fucking cold.

Spring and autumn are nice. But Wonwoo has a pollen allergy so he can’t enjoy the blooming season even if he wants to.

So if someone asks what his favorite season is, he always says autumn.

Wonwoo isn’t sentimental enough to actually have opinions about seasons. Like he said, he doesn’t like summer and winter because they’re extremely hot and cold respectively. He doesn’t mind spring but he has pollen allergies. And so he’s left with autumn.

It’s all just practical.

But, if there’s one season that actually means something… it’d also be autumn. And it doesn’t even have much to do with the actual season. It’s the memories it carries.

Yeah, that’s what he’ll call it.

Memories.

Because no matter what–

“Get going, will you?” Someone grumbles and goes past him.

Right, another reason why he hates summer. People get (rightfully) annoyed all the time and everyone wants to hang out near the Han river, him being one of them.

What can he do? He was already outside due to prior meetings, it’s hot, and being near the body of water sounds like a good idea if there’s any. He just happens to be in the area and he supposes why not. It’s been quite some time since he’s spent some time outside by himself, anyway.

At least he’s by himself so it’ll be much easier to find a seat. –Or so he assumes as he sighs, still trying to look for an empty spot to sit down ten minutes later. He doesn’t find any, if only because the only one-person spots available are surrounded by couples making googly eyes at each other.

Eventually, he finds one a little further away and settles there with his plastic bag filled with a canned highball and a bag of chips. It’s only somewhere after two in the afternoon, a weird time to be drinking alcohol, but he sighs blissfully at the first sip and stares mindlessly at the people around him.

He likes people watching, though he doesn’t make any grand scenarios about them in his head; simply thinks about how he’s only one of many in the sea of people. That he can be special but he chooses not to be. On the contrary, he likes to pretend that he’s normal; that he has a mark somewhere hidden on his body and he just simply hasn’t met his soulmate. That his dreams are simply dreams.

Or maybe they are nothing but dreams.

Maybe he’s simply thinking too much about them.

Maybe he’s just projecting the ideal life he’d have had he not been an outlier.

He blinks.

Why… had he not considered that before?

Sure, he feels too strongly about them (and Wonwoo isn’t even an emotional person) and is way too conscious because they feel real, but what if his head really is just messing with him? What if they really are just illusions and–

“Hey, sorry, do you mind if I sit here? Everywhere else is full and you’re the only one by yourself so…”

Wonwoo looks up at the weirdly familiar voice, freezing when he recognizes the person in front of him at once, the word coming out of his mouth before he even can stop himself.

“Autumn?”

Surprise colors your face at the name, your head empty because you honestly have no idea what to think. You don’t even have it in you to be suspecting, just very fascinated and somewhat nostalgic in the matter of seconds.

It’s been some time since someone calls you ‘Autumn’; the nickname that your late grandfather would always call you by because he said it’s his favorite season and you’re his sweetest grandchild. A few of your relatives adopted the name even though they outgrew it almost immediately after your grandfather passed. You’ve never told anyone outside the family about the nickname, not even your closest friends, as you’d like to keep it dear to your heart.

And it still stings to think about it after his passing ten years ago.

Several seconds–minutes?–pass like that, with you and this stranger looking at each other, mouth a little ajar, unsure what to say. But he breaks the silence first, shakes his head before he apologizes.

“Uh, sorry. You just–umm, uh, look like someone I know. You can sit down, sure.”

You nod and whisper a ‘thanks’, holding back the urge to ask him about his friend who apparently looks like you and shares your old nickname. But the silence that looms over you both is a little suffocating, and your usual extroverted self who never hesitates to talk to new people seems to die in front of him as you ponder if it’s okay to start a conversation with this handsome stranger.

Perhaps it’s just the weird interaction earlier, you think to yourself, the memory of your grandfather and your favorite nickname that no one except your family knows filling your chest with warmth. The last time you heard someone referred to you by that name was probably a decade ago, and to be referred to ‘Autumn’ again after so long… you wonder if you should’ve told someone about it if it inflicts this much fondness within you.

Or maybe it wouldn’t be so special if you had.

“So you have a friend who looks like me and is called ‘Autumn’, huh?” You try to maintain a confident smile, pray that you’re simply imagining the slight shake in your voice.

The stranger flinches a little, a gesture that you’re not sure what to make of, but then he nods and offers you an awkward smile. “Yeah, something like that.”

“You know, it used to be some sort of my nickname as a kid.” You’re not sure why you’re telling him this, but you are and it’s almost comical the way his lips open a little in surprise before he mutters a small ‘I see’. You offer your name to him, and thank him once again for letting you share his spot.

“Don’t mind it.” He smiles tightly before returning the gesture, and you can’t help but wonder why the name Jeon Wonwoo rings something in your head even though you’re sure you haven’t met this guy. You’re pretty good when it comes to remembering names and faces. You’ve never had any friends called Wonwoo, though you recall there were probably some people from your year in school and university who share his name.

Never a Jeon though. And he doesn’t look familiar at all, so you’re sure he’s not a friend of a friend that you might’ve seen in passing either, but… why does he feel familiar?

You shake your head before you let go of the thought, and then rummages through your bag to look for your drink. You take everything out of the way only to find your bottle lying sadly at the very bottom of your tote bag, when you look up again, you see Wonwoo glancing at the book you’ve put on the table.

On Soulmates: Love without Commitment

Xu Minghao

You hope the way you put everything back to your bag is subtle, like you’re not trying to hide the book you’ve been reading and the glimpse into your mind that people can easily decipher from your choice of literature alone. His face doesn’t tell you anything though, and it’s his next question that gets your heart beating in irregular beats.

“It’s quite the book, isn’t it?” He takes a sip from his can. “Gave me insights that I didn’t know I needed.”

“Right!” You reply with exaggerated enthusiasm. But can anyone blame you? Anyone who catches you reading that book always gives you the side eye, some people who are frontal even asked why you’re reading something that sounds as stupid as a flat earth. “I haven’t finished, but it’s so interesting to read why the author thinks soulmates aren’t it because it doesn’t give you a choice and everything about the relationship is a given. That perhaps the love that people who don’t have the soulmate marks might be purer because they choose to love and they put effort into it. I’m currently on chapter 7 and–”

You stop when you realize you’re rambling, words of apology on the top of your tongue when you see Wonwoo tilting his head in question. Not in judgement because you’re enthusiastic about it. Not in annoyance because you talk too much when it hasn’t even been twenty minutes since you’ve met him.

“Why are you stopping?” He asks, further making you speechless with the genuine interest in his voice. “Chapter 7 is about fate and destiny, isn’t it?”

You cough a little to hide your flustered face, a little too excited to finally find someone that isn’t against you reading this essay. You’ve been wanting to talk about it with someone–anyone–, all those hours you’ve spent on countless communities online with people who share the same sentiment as you not being enough.

“Yeah. I’m almost done with the chapter, though I haven’t been able to pick it up again these days.”

Wonwoo hums, seemingly deep in thought before he asks you again. “What do you think about it?”

“Fate and destiny?”

“Yeah.”

“I think it’s bullshit.”

He looks at you in surprise; whether it’s because of your choice of words or because of your opinion, you don’t know. But he doesn’t look like he’s going to jump at you for having such an opinion, so you continue even though he didn't ask you to.

“I’d hate to think that someone–something out there has enough power to decide what’s going to happen to us moving forward. That everything we do is predestined and that we have no choice whatsoever in life because it’s fated to be and it’s thanks to the universe that something happens a certain way.” And then you add, your voice comparably smaller as you suddenly realize you’re being too open with this stranger. “It feels… confining…”

He nods as he opens his bag of chips, putting it right in the middle as if telling you it’s okay to take some.

“I agree.” He doesn’t meet your eyes as he says this, looking straight over the Han river like he’ll find an actual answer there. “If it’s true, it’s very cruel for some people to know that their life is fated to be miserable and can do nothing but accept it.”

“Right? And, personally, I don’t know how I feel about the soulmates concept. You know how in the book it says that soulmates might take each other for granted because they’re meant to be together? Or that they simply accept the other person because, apparently, they’re their person? What if the universe messed up and you’re paired with a serial killer or something?”

Wonwoo looks at you alarmed, and you laugh before you say that you’re just speaking in general. He hesitates before he asks, unsure about where you actually are when it comes to soulmates. Are you this opinionated because you don’t have a soulmate? His heart skips a beat at the thought of it; or perhaps you simply hate the idea of it regardless. But before he can actually ask the question, his eyes fall to the side of your neck, and he notices the strings of flowers on the side of your neck, something that you also notice–so you clear your throat to dart his attention away.

“You feel… strongly about it, don’t you?” Wonwoo settles it at that, not wanting to offend you somehow. He doesn’t deny the mixed feeling in his heart as he realizes what it means. You have a soulmate. Even though there’s a chance that you don’t want them, you still have a soulmate and whatever feeling that’s brewing on the pit of his stomach, it’s not a good one.

What was he expecting, anyway? That if somehow he found you in this lifetime–which he did, what the fuck. It’s you who found him, even–you’d happily take him in your arms? The bitter taste on his mouth is getting worse by the seconds, only now realizing that even though he’s been wishing he’d find you, he never has any real plan about what to do if he actually did.

It helps that he doesn’t actually think he would, so he can hold on to it like a dream that would never come true. Something he holds dear in his heart but doesn’t really need to take responsibility for because it’s not going to happen. Something that somewhat keeps him going and some sort of wishful thinking.

You shrug, not offering any explanation.

He doesn’t press.

“I think.” He begins, looking at you this time, and if anyone ever asks, you’re going to deny the way your heartbeat picks up and up and up the more he looks into your eyes, your face getting hot like a high school girl with a crush. “You can always go against your destiny if that’s what you choose to do. If fate and destiny actually exist, who is there to say that what the universe has decided for you is your best path? Perhaps it’s just one of many and you can try taking another road to see if you’ll like it more. Even if they exist, it doesn’t mean you have to follow them all the time.”

You lay in bed thinking about his words that night, wondering if it’s as easy as he makes it to be to get away from your path and try a new one.

You dream of Wonwoo, a birthday cake, and a ginkgo leaf mark that you’re sure was not on Wonwoo’s wrist when you saw him earlier that day.

You wake up wishing you’ll meet him again.

Joshua, you’ve always known, is the ideal partner that anyone could ask for. He’s sweet, he takes care of you well, is respectful, and you honestly feel bad for not returning even half of what he feels for you.

You love him, you really do, but you don’t think what you feel for him is strong enough to be considered in the same league with the love that people believe soulmates should have for each other. It’s nowhere near there.

You love him, he’s very important to you, and you’ll drop anything for him if he needs you. But you know something’s wrong when Joshua starts talking about living together, marriage, and family, and dread is the only thing that fills your chest.

You know something’s wrong when you don’t feel the butterfly nor the fireworks that everyone–and you mean everyone–says they experience when they meet their soulmates.

It was nothing like that for you; you knew he’s your soulmate, and if there’s anything right about what people said regarding your first meeting, it’s true that it just clicked that it’s your soulmate in front of you. But your heartbeat picked up for all the wrong reasons that didn’t have anything to do with rush of excitement nor romantic expectation. You were a little anxious, even, but you couldn’t do anything when Joshua immediately recognized the feeling once his eyes met yours and he ran to you like he’d give you the world right that very second.

There was nothing magical about it.

You’re not sure how you feel either about the universe giving you the perfect partner by theory, but also somehow shaping you into a person that believes the whole soulmate thing is bullshit. It doesn’t seem to matter whether Joshua notices your lack of romantic reciprocation or not, because Joshua still treats you like you’re the love of his life and he looks at you like you’re his whole galaxy.

Or perhaps he mistakes the way you care for him as romance?

What a fucking drama you live in.

“What got you thinking?” You blink at his voice, and Joshua looks at you amused as he settles right beside you despite the heaps of empty space on your sofa. “You’ve been zoning out a lot these days.”

“Have I?” You ask, accepting the way his arm automatically goes behind you on top of the sofa head. You like his warmth, you really do. You like–no–you admit that you love a lot of things about Joshua and you’re glad you met him even though you absolutely abhor the soulmate system.

You love his eyes, the way they seem to stare into your soul and are able to tell what’s inside your mind most of the time.

You love his hands, they always know to wrap around yours when you need it most, pull you closer when you stray away because something distracts you along the way.

You love his voice, so calm and soothing that you would ask him to talk you to sleep through the phone on nights sleep refuses to find you, the way he’ll hum when he’s in a good mood though he never actually sings in front of you because he says he can’t carry an actual tune otherwise. (Two years since you’ve found each other and you’re still on a mission to make him sing because you just knew he sings well.)

But, most of all, you love the way he treats you.

The way he’ll ask if he’s not sure what you want him to do, the way he’ll carefully thread through your mood when the day hasn’t been good, and the way he gives you space even if he wants to be near you all the time.

He respects you. Not only as his soulmate but also as a person, and you can’t thank him enough for that.

Perhaps that’s why it hurts much more now; why guilt is eating you inside out because you can only think about Wonwoo and his words when Joshua is right next to you, his thigh pressed against yours and his thumb caressing your shoulder over your shirt.

If fate and destiny actually exist, who is there to say that what the universe has decided for you is your best path?

You force back the tears before they can actually form, gulping before you tell him it’s nothing.

“Should we go out?”

“Where?”

“Hmmm. Namsan? We can take a walk, get you off your mind.” His smile is kind, and you feel like crying again because of how considerate Joshua is. He doesn’t even ask, doesn’t push even once just in case you’ll crack. He simply accepts that you don’t want to talk about it and offers you something that might help.

Why the fuck aren’t you in love with him when he’s your soulmate and he’s as perfect as someone could be?

His arms envelop you and thrust you into his chest before you could break, and you manage to hold it for three full seconds before the tears stubbornly fall and you whimper softly into his hold. Joshua doesn't say anything, doesn’t hush you and asks if you’re okay.

No.

He accepts that you’re not okay and you don’t want to tell him about it. That you’re crying and he feel so fucking useless because he can’t do anything to help you with it.

That you’re hiding something from him that’s possibly making you cry even though you never did before.

Still, he holds you close and lets you cry.

You grasp the front of his shirt as you try your best to stop your tears. You don’t even know why you’re crying this much, but you suppose between the stressful week and the whole Wonwoo situation, the guilt combined with Joshua’s innocent look trigger something within you.

“I’ll just get you some water.” He whispers against your head once you’ve calmed down, squeezes your shoulder and then lets you go. He’s back not even a minute later, and you thank him as you take your mug, embarrassed when you wipe the remaining of your tears off your face. “Feeling better?”

“Yeah, sorry about that.” You manage to whisper, too embarrassed to even look him in the eyes.

His smile is meant to be comforting, but thinking yet again about the reason why you even cried to begin with, it only makes your heart squeezes painfully.

“You probably need it. You know I won’t judge.” He caresses your cheek as if to make sure to get rid of all traces of tears there. He searches for your face, as if he can tell what’s inside your mind just by doing so, and for a moment, you’re afraid that he really can; that he’ll see the man that you’ve met once some time last week clouding your mind like there’s no tomorrow. “Do you want to go for a walk anyway? Perhaps you need to get out of the house for a bit?”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” You reach up to circle your fingers around his wrist, smiling back at him because despite everything, you’re still thankful that the universe thinks you’re deserving of someone like him. You’re still thankful that you get to be on the receiving end of his affection.

Joshua leans forward to kiss your forehead, lingering for a good few seconds before he tells you to get ready.

It doesn’t take you too long to get ready, nor does it take long for you two to arrive at Namsan. Climbing the stairs to get to the park, Joshua asks instead if you’re willing to just go further up to get to the peak where the tower is. You’re not exactly dressed for climbing (though it’s really just stairs, stairs, and more stairs), nor are you in the mood for it, but you think exhausting your body is just what you might just need so you can pass out the moment you reach your bed later on.

He extends his hand, and you take it with a smile despite the pinch in your heart. You spend the first ten minutes in silence, hand in hand as you ascend up the seemingly never-ending stairs.

Already out of breath, you begin to doubt your decision of climbing up when Joshua speaks.

“I haven’t gone here in so long.” Undeniably, it’s a very nice weather out. You being out of breath has more to do with your lack of exercise on a daily basis more than anything, but even in your predicament you can still appreciate the night view around you. As much as you feel like dying right now, you know you don’t actually regret it.

“Yeah? Me too.” You grip his hand tighter for support, then ask if you could rest for a bit when you see a rest stop. Joshua laughs as you ask this, though he nods and hands you a piece of chocolate the moment you both sit down on an empty bench overlooking Seoul from where you’re at.

“You’re a lifesaver.” You moan as you take a bite of the chocolate, leaning your head on his shoulder and stretching your legs. “I haven’t climbed in so long. My legs will fall tomorrow, I’m sure.”

“I’ll run a bath for you before I go home tonight.”

You try to trample the way your heartbeat picks up; not because you’re fluttered, but because you’re once again eaten with guilt by how perfect Joshua really is. He doesn’t exactly know how you feel about soulmates; you’re not cruel enough to say things right to his face.

But you know for sure that he’s aware of your choice of literature.

He doesn’t comment on them, and you try not to read them when he’s around. But he once caught you reading on your phone over your shoulder and you sheepishly said you simply find those essays interesting.

Joshua isn’t stupid, knows that there’s a reason why you find them interesting, but he chooses to be in ignorant bliss and says you’re free to read whatever you want and there’s no need to justify yourself to him of all people.

Yeah, because it’s totally normal that your soulmate is interested in reading essays on why soulmates are bullshits.

Forty minutes later with some short breaks along the way, you finally reach the top. There aren’t as many people, and you walk around for a bit to let your legs relax before finding yet another bench to sit on.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been here at night.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm. Sure is different from being here during the day.”

“It is, isn’t it?” Joshua agrees, his palm absentmindedly caresses your thigh as if it helps relieve your sore muscle.

“Should we have some cup ramyeons?” You suggest, pointing to the convenience store you pass by earlier. “I think I can do some if I share with you.”

Joshua nods, but before he can offer to go, you tell him he can rest instead.

“I’ll go get it. Should I buy two or are you fine just sharing one with me?”

“Two is fine.”

“And the usual drink?”

“And the usual drink.” He grins. “You sure you can take everything by yourself?”

You roll your eyes in mock annoyance, exhaling a ‘duh’ as you tell him to just wait.

Pleased that the convenience store isn’t crowded either, you hum as you go through the snack isles instead. Knowing yourself, you’ll probably only eat two thirds of the cup ramyeon and wolf down the snack instead if you buy some; but you don’t see why not because Joshua’s there to finish your food anyway. Plus, it’s a nice night out and that’s enough to justify your choice of dinner.

Juggling two big cups of instant noodles, a packet of cheese, a hotbar, and a bag of shrimp chips isn’t your talent, but you manage and you drop them on the cashier before quickly telling the cashier you’re just going to grab a drink real quick.

Almost bumping into the person behind you, your apology is stuck in your throat once you realize who’s the person exactly.

What the fuck.

“Oh…” Wonwoo says in surprise, the words seemingly out of his mouth before he even realizes. “Hi…?”

You give him an awkward smile and nod before quickly going to the drink aisle. Apologizing once again to the cashier who’s still scanning your purchase (and to Wonwoo) once you return even though it’s barely been five seconds.

“Need help?” Wonwoo says good-naturedly, gesturing to the amount of things you’ve just bought.

“Hey, I–”

Wonwoo looks at you staring between him and the guy who has just entered. Getting the hints immediately that his help isn’t needed, he smiles before paying for his stuff and leaves the convenience store.

He looks spitefully at the night sky, it’s so unnecessarily pretty too, unsure if he wants to curse whatever’s up there that of all days he decides to go outside, he just has to see you again. With another guy at that. He doesn’t want to jump to conclusions. The guy could simply be your friend for all he knew.

But if there’s one thing that is Wonwoo, he’s quick to put pieces together. From your panicked glance and the way you tense when you see him, he knows. Perhaps it’s also just intuition. But he just knew that man, whoever he is, is the one that heaven has decided to be the one for you.

He exhales a deep breath before finding a secluded place somewhere behind a tree, carefully hidden to minimize any chance of being seen by you (or seeing you with your soulmate). He would’ve immediately left if he could, but he’s only arrived and it feels like it’s such a waste for him to leave just like that despite the situation.

What even is the situation?

He’s been thinking a lot since he met you, if he wants to seek you out again and what he wants to do if he does. The thought is no longer so much of a wishful thinking like it used to be. He knows you exist now. You’re actually living, you’re real, and you have a soulmate that is not him.

It sounds so much like an exaggeration, but he’s never felt so empty after going home that night, thinking about you and your soulmate. Do you live together? Do you care about him regardless of your stance on the whole soulmate thing? Does he treat you well? Does he get to hold you while you sleep? Does he–Fuck.

Wonwoo hates being like this, and he’d love to say it’s gotten better the more time passes by, but it has only gotten even worse because his dream is getting longer and even more prominent since meeting you. And what he hates most is he’s started to feel more and more strongly about you even through his dreams.

What is one supposed to do when they fall in love with an illusion that has a counterpart living in the realm of reality? He’s pretty sure no one would have the answer.

He glances up at the sound of faint laughter, seemingly so loud in the silent night, or perhaps he simply picks it up because he knows exactly who it belongs to before he even sees you. He bites his lip at the scene he’s witnessing: you, laughing with your soulmate at god knows what.

He can’t blame the guy for looking at you like you hold the universe for him. After all, Wonwoo would probably do exactly the same thing had he been given the chance. His past self from another life could vouch for that.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, he’s not sure, you end up sitting a good distance away from where he’s at, your back facing him as you settle beside the man destined to be with you. You’re not too far that he can’t see your side profile, which gets his heart both squeezing in pain and fluttering at the same time.

He doesn’t even know that was possible.

Wonwoo looks far to the distance, at the endless night sky that’s so unnecessarily full of stars today of all day. He wants to think the universe is mocking him, playing a joke on him for being alone by himself on such a beautiful night, making him watch you laughing with your soulmate as the cherry on top.

But he knows he’s not that special.

He’s just one of many; his misery wouldn’t be all that amusing for the universe.

Scoffing at the thought of the universe, he lowers his eyes from the sky only to accidentally meet yours.

Is this the work of the universe too?

Nah, he shouldn’t give too much credit to the damn thing. But, then again, blaming it for every single thing that went wrong in his life has proved to be some kind of comfort if he’s being completely honest.

You offer him a small smile anyway, not even waiting for him to return the gesture.

It hurts still to see you with your soulmate, sharing food and talking about what he assumes to be nothing and everything. But as he lays in bed that night and thinks about your smile, he admits that if the universe lets him meet you in this lifetime, perhaps it isn’t so bad, after all.

Wonwoo has always liked the number three.

Third’s time the charm and all that jazz. He doesn’t hold on to it religiously, just some fun little routine that he finds amusing. When he takes an item in a grocery store, he takes the third one from the front; when he goes to the convenience store because he needs one (1) thing, he takes two small snacks so it’s three items in total; on the rare days when Wonwoo feels like trying a new drink in a cafe, he’d just choose the third item in the menu.

It’s fun.

Today, Wonwoo’s supposed to meet Mingyu for a little get together. He’s the first friend he’s made in Seoul, a guy that’s a little too flashy for his liking but is still a good person nevertheless and definitely a much better company than most people that he’s made to be acquainted with in the new city.

He’s not too excited about the invitation, but doesn’t see why he should turn the younger guy down when he has no plan during the weekend, and, as much as he loves staying inside, the four walls of his apartment is starting to feel a little suffocating because it’s almost been a month since that night he randomly went to Namsan and saw you, and… he hasn’t gone out for anything that’s not a necessity since then.

So when Mingyu asks for the third time since they got to know each other if he wants to join him on a night out or not, he decides he should also appreciate the guy’s persistence despite already being turned down twice before.

Anyway.

He was supposed to meet him for a little get together. Apparently, Mingyu’s version of ‘a little get together’ is to invite a group of friends that Wonwoo obviously doesn’t know for dinner and only notifying him of the additional party thirty minutes before their promised time.

He exhales. It’s too late for him to bail. Right now, his hope is only as high as the ground: he simply wishes he wouldn’t return home socially exhausted.

It’s a small pizza diner inside an alleyway where they promised to meet. And Mingyu along with his friends thankfully arrive at the same time as him so Wonwoo wouldn’t need to go inside and look around like a fool, wondering where his table full of strangers and a slightly familiar friend is.

He’s not close enough with Mingyu to say he’s comfortable around him, but he’s still the most familiar face between the four faces in front of him so he decides sitting next to Mingyu is the best choice. Thankfully, the younger guy doesn’t seem to be the type to push him to interact with new people immediately.

Thirty minutes into dinner, Wonwoo can tell Mingyu probably brings these friends around because he thinks Wonwoo needs to meet new people (or maybe he thinks it’ll be awkward if it’s just the two of them?). It’s easy to tell that he’s brought the friendliest people who’s just loud enough, who understand that Wonwoo’s quiet but still able to naturally included him in conversations without making him feel bad about being, well, quiet (god knows how many people have tried to make him feel bad for staying quiet during conversations).

Jungkook is a friend from high school, he’s learned, apparently one of Mingyu’s closest friends. Jeonghan is a senior from his previous company; someone that he didn’t know he’d end up being close with because, at first, Jeonghan was obviously just someone he had to work together with. Jisoo, he finds out later on, is Jungkook’s ex-girlfriend before he found his soulmate, though they treasure their friendship too much to cut each other off.

Except for Jungkook, the other two friends seem a little unconventional and Wonwoo doesn’t understand how Mingyu ends up being close enough with them to go out together like this.

He doesn’t ask.

“We’re planning on bar hopping.” Mingyu tells him, and Wonwoo feels dread fill his chest at what this might imply until Mingyu adds, “You’re free to leave if you don’t want to go with us though! I understand it might not be everyone’s thing.”

Weirdly, Wonwoo now wants to go because he’s been given the freedom of choice. Plus, at least he knows he’d be surrounded by these people and he can go home at any time if he wants to.

“What kind of bar?”

“Definitely not clubs pretending to be a bar.” Mingyu jokes. “Maybe wine or cocktail bars?”

“Sure, I’ll come then.” Wonwoo shrugs, then tells Mingyu he’ll probably return home first if he and his friends are planning to go until morning, to which Mingyu nods and says that it’s no problem at all.

Wonwoo doesn’t really understand the concept of bar hopping. He’s always been curious about it, but never curious enough to actually do it. So he supposes it’s also his curiosity that pushes him to say yes. He kind of wants to see what it’s all about and he doesn’t think he’d have another opportunity where he might remotely enjoy the experience if not now.

The first cocktail bar isn’t that great, if only because the place is small and it feels like everyone can hear what they’re talking about. They each have one drink and immediately leave for the next one. They go to a wine bar, and Wonwoo is pleased to know the alcohol in his system (and the current company, he’s sure) has made him more relaxed than he had been the past week.

After an hour or so, Mingyu decides he’s had too much energy and asks if it’s okay to move to an open bar that’s not as noisy as a club but is still noisy enough for people to enjoy the music and fill the dancing floor.

Normally, Wonwoo would say no. But he surprisingly still has enough social battery and thinks might as well go all out while he’s at it. It’s not often that he’s in a social mood.

The bar is a little too noisy for Wonwoo’s liking, though the half part of the building has no roof so it’s not too loud nor suffocating. After ordering their drinks, Mingyu and Jungkook head to the dance floor. Jisoo and Jeonghan stay at the table with him; Jisoo says she’s not really in the mood to dance while Jeonghan says his soulmate is picking him up in a bit so he’s just going to stick around til then.

It’s thirty minutes later that he leaves and Wonwoo’s now left alone with Jisoo. It’s not uncomfortable, but it is a little awkward and Jisoo seems to share the sentiment as she tries to find topics to talk about.

They end up talking about literature and movies, and Wonwoo has to lean forward to be able to listen to her clearly over the music until she eventually moves to sit next to him so they can talk easier. He notices Jungkook glancing every now and then, and when Jisoo follows his gaze, she chuckles a little and shakes her head.

“Sorry. It’s just a habit of his, don’t mind him.”

Wonwoo blinks, unsure. “Why are you apologizing?”

“I know a lot of people find his stares uncomfortable.” She shrugs. “He’s just protective of me. It’s nothing, I promise.”

Wonwoo’s not nosy. But between the alcohol in his system, his remote curiosity, and the way Jisoo looks like she wants to talk about it, he kindly throws the bait.

A subtle one, though.

“How did you end up being close with Mingyu?”

“Through Kook, at first.” Mingyu and Jeonghan don’t refer to Jungkook with that name, he notes. And a part of him wonders if it’s a nickname that Jisoo has for him or if it’s just how his girl friends call him. “We dated before. But we broke up because, well, he found his soulmate and… Mingyu was kind enough to keep me company and made sure I was okay after the whole ordeal. I’m not sure why he felt the need to do that, but I’m thankful regardless. So… yeah.”

He bites the question about soulmates. Doesn’t ask why they tried dating each other if they knew they aren’t soulmates, but he does wonder about how she must’ve felt or how she’s feeling right now. He can’t exactly compare his situation with hers, because as much as he’s going through a… heartbreak, it’s somewhat onesided while Jisoo actually had a relationship with Jungkook.

And she still has to be friends with him.

He doesn’t know if it’s the universe or Jungkook that is cruel.

Or perhaps Jisoo is a masochist.

Apparently, she’s also very honest when she’s tipsy.

“I’m an outlier.” She smiles bitterly after downing a shot, then she pulls up the sleeve of her cardigan and shows him what he assumes to be a trace of a soulmate mark; a faint outline of a snowflake that’s barely visible unless you actually take a look at her wrist. “I hav–had a soulmate. They died before I even met them and that’s why the mark… burned.”

Her chuckle is nowhere near amused when Wonwoo’s eyes widen in surprise, and she answers before he even asks as she pulls down the sleeve of her cardigan.

“It literally burned. I was sixteen; and I was out with Jungkook getting ice cream when it started to burn and he had to witness me being all hysterical, crying as I told him my wrist burnt and it felt like it’s going to fall off.” She doesn’t look bitter at all as she talks about this, just very sad and perhaps even a tad bit nostalgic. “He was fourteen. A little shorter than I was at that point, but he tried his best to tug me to a secluded place so people wouldn’t stare despite my struggle because everything hurt and I just felt like crying, hugged me to muffle my scream, and stayed with me for hours after that even though I was just zoning out, not saying anything.”

Wonwoo isn’t sure if it’s a story for him to hear; but Jisoo looks like she needs it (or is it just the alcohol?) and the least he could do is to listen. At least he can rest easy knowing this story wouldn’t be going anywhere else.

“I knew what happened even though I didn’t know by theory. I could feel it; felt the connection that was only faintly there just… gone. Jungkook took me home and told my parents about what happened. Of course they knew what it meant and they thanked him before sending him home. I couldn’t really talk for weeks, the emptiness and the burn were too prominent for me to be doing anything. My parents told the school I was sick so I was dismissed from classes.”

She pauses, and for the first time, Wonwoo can tell exactly what she’s feeling: she’s numb and she’s exhausted. There’s no trace of tears in her eyes. They’re void of anything and Wonwoo suddenly feels an odd sense of affinity the more he listens to her.

“Jungkook… stopped by everyday even though he didn’t know what actually happened. He probably had an idea, but he didn’t press and he talked to me about anything and everything even if I didn’t say anything–said from the beginning that I didn’t need to answer, that he’d do all the talking for me.”

Wonwoo doesn’t need to listen to the rest of the story to know why Jisoo still treasures Jungkook as…, well, whatever she regards him as right now. He doesn’t want her to talk about more sad things like how she ended up dating him and how she broke up with him, so he offers her what he could: honesty and a change of topic.

Even if it’s only a little.

“I’m an outlier also.” He says quietly that Jisoo almost misses it. “Doesn’t have a soulmate but… it’s complicated.”

Thankfully, Jisoo doesn’t pry, simply takes another shot and offers a cheer to him.

“Sucks to be us.”

It’s weird, but Wonwoo finds himself chuckling before he takes his own drink and clinks his glass to hers and takes a sip of his highball.

“Sucks to be us.”

His mind wanders to you, thinking if he could stand being in Jisoo’s place had it been like that for him. He had only seen you with your soulmate from afar, had only talked to you once, and it hurts anyway.

Why is he cursed with the memories of his previous life, again?

He’s been mentally restless since that night. How could he not when he keeps on seeing you everywhere? His dreams are getting more and more prominent and so are his feelings. He keeps on thinking he sees you somewhere–everywhere–only to realize it’s not you, just ghosts of you haunting him in every person that he sees.

How fucking stupid, falling in love with a series of images and illusions.

Drinking the rest of his drink, he shakes his head and winces at the alcohol and at how his mind is playing tricks once again. Perhaps drinking alcohol hasn’t been the best option if he ends up imagining you even here between the blurry images of people.

Fuck, he’s down bad.

In such perfect timing, Mingyu and Jungkook return to the table, so Wonwoo leaves Jisoo with them and excuses himself to the restroom. He looks at himself in the mirror, and then looks at his phone only to realize it’s already almost one in the morning. Perhaps it’s time he goes home; the talk he’s shared with Jisoo proves to be more mentally exhausting than he thinks it is.

He almost bumps into someone on his way out, hands reaching out to the person in front of him in reflex only to let go just as quick once he sees your face once again. Christ, is he that drunk? He really needs to go home.

That version of you is very pretty too, fuck.

“Uh… Wonwoo?” He’s even imagining your voice now? “Are you… okay?”

He looks up in alarm once he realizes you’re real. It’s actually you in front of him and you’re not a figment of his imagination. He opens his mouth to say something, but someone bumps into you hard and you tumble into his chest.

Wonwoo’s breath is caught in his throat at the turn of events, but his arm catches you anyway and glares at the guy before he looks down and asks if you’re okay. You look as flustered as he’s feeling, and he hopes the loud music is enough to cover the sound of his heartbeat.

“You’re okay?” It’s stupid how disappointment fills his chest the moment you step away, a sense of longing already making its way to his heart.

He needs to get away.

“I—yeah.” You look unsure and Wonwoo doesn’t like how your body screams uneasiness.

“Are you by yourself?”

“No?” Now you sound unsure, and even though Wonwoo is also another stranger in the sea of strangers, he thinks he trusts himself better than any other people here to help you if you don’t want to be here. “Well, I was with my friend but she… yeah.”

You’re biting your lip, as if afraid he’d scold you (Why would he? He’s not your boyfriend (Wait. No. Back pedal, back pedal)). Fuck, fuck, fuck. He swallows hard to calm himself down; this is not the time to imagine what it’d be like to be your boyfriend.

“Come on.” He says as calmly as possible, his fingers balled into a fist to stop himself from taking your hand in his. He considers bringing you to his table, but he doesn’t know how he should introduce you to his party so he quickly texts Mingyu he’s going home because something turns up before he leads you out of the club.

It’s silence filling you two despite the somewhat noisy alley you’re walking through, and you don’t know Wonwoo enough to be able to tell if he’s pissed or what; but he does seem tense and you’re the one uncomfortable with the unnerving silence.

“I’m–I’m sorry.” You try to open a conversation. Wonwoo stops in his tracks and turns to you in confusion. “You were probably there to have fun or something… Sorry I made you get me out of there.”

He shakes his head, and your heart relaxes when he smiles a little. “It’s fine. About time I go back anyway. Do you mind if we stop by a convenience store for a bit?”

It’s then that you realize you’ve been blindly following him. You don’t even know the guy. You’ve met him twice before, and your second meeting barely even lasts five minutes, yet you readily follow him because you know you’ll be more comfortable with him than there–more safe, more… secure.

Fuck, you didn’t even ask him where he’s taking you earlier. It was almost automatic the way you followed his steps. You try to convince yourself that it’s his familiarity that makes you feel safe. Because even if you don’t know him that well, his face is still one imprinted in your head so it’s normal that you’d feel safer than you would with any other person in that club.

Plus, you’ve talked to him once before and he at least passed the vibe check, right?

But as you pile these thoughts in your head, trying to justify the uncalled feeling of security this stranger brings you, deep down you know why exactly your anxiety seeps away at the sight of him earlier, why your shoulders drop down in relief, and why your chest is no longer filled with dread.

“Here, have this.”

That’s why. You think to yourself.

Wonwoo isn’t smiling at you, but there’s a kind of warmth that he radiates as he hands you a drink and ushers you to sit on the table in front of the convenience store. There’s a certain warmth that reaches you as he sits in front of you and places a hot bun on the table, pushes it towards you without saying anything.

You watch him slot his hands into the pocket of his jackets, and you suddenly wonder if he gets cold easily. It’s not that cold outside, though you suppose it is one in the morning and the wind picks up a little at times like this.

“Thanks.” You mumble as you wrap your fingers around the small bottle of warm honey water. You can’t help but smile at the drink of his choice, a little funny how he didn’t get you a hot chocolate or tea; something most people would usually get. “Can I ask why honey?”

He blinks, as if not getting what you’re talking about until you hold up the glass bottle for him to see.

Wonwoo panics a little. He has bought the drink without thinking, a part of his mind that stores the information about you from his dream making him do so. In fact, it was only yesterday that he dreamt of you drinking one.

The dream is still vivid in his mind. He dreamt of you sleeping, and he assumed he was trying to sleep himself when you jolted awake out of nowhere, eyes frantic and hands flailing around looking for him. He saw himself whispering words of comfort to you, and he saw you burying yourself into him like there’s any space between the two of you before he pulled away and said he’d get you some drink from the kitchen.

You had smiled weakly at the sight of your favorite drink, a warm honey water that always comforted you at nights like this.

“Do you not like it? I can get you something else if you want?”

“No, it’s fine.” You smile, something inside you blooming dangerously at his words and what you may or may not be implying with yours. “Just… I usually drink those too. Some of my friends judge me for that.”

He’s more surprised about the fact that you share this with your past self more than anything, but, still, he asks. “Huh? Why?”

“Just because it’s unusual, I suppose.” Shrugging, you proceed to open the lid and take a sip. “Not a lot of people drink this, you know? Or, at least, they drink it cold. I prefer it warm.”

He wonders if you share anything else with your past self. So far, there’s been two: Autumn and this drink. Would you be suspicious if he threw it out there? Would you freak out?

“Someone I know eats watermelon only if it’s frozen; I’m sure it's just a preference on your part.”

You smile shyly as you answer him, an image that’s forever burned into his mind. “I do that also.”

His mind runs a thousand hundred scenarios of what this could mean, wonders if it’s simply a coincidence or if the universe is on to something.

“Aren’t you special,” he smiles tightly, hoping that you don’t catch upon his awkwardness.

“Thank you for putting it that way.” The sound of your laughter makes him want to be selfish; to drag out conversations and spend as much time as possible with you even though he knows you have a soulmate. Is it considered cheating like this? Is he immoral for wanting this? “My friends also judge me because I don’t like cheese cake, cheese sauce and anything cheese flavored even though I don’t mind an actual cheese.”

“You… don’t like cheese cake?” Wonwoo blinked, unsure if he heard right. He wasn’t a cheese lover or anything, but he didn’t think he’d ever seen anyone who grimaced at the word ‘cheese cake’.

“They’re too… cheesy.”

“Autumn, it’s called cheese cake for a reason.”

“And the texture… yuck.” You grimaced before telling him to stop talking about it before you lose your appetite.

“Are you judging me too?” Your voice snaps him out of his gaze, and he blinks a few times before he shakes his head no. This can’t be good, fuck. It’s been less than 10 minutes since he’s been talking to you, and yet his heartbeat is out of control and the fact that you share a lot of things with the illusion of yourself that he’s developed an attachment for isn’t good at all.

He tries his best to remind himself that his feeling isn’t real; that perhaps he’s too blinded by something that he’s been holding on to and he doesn’t know what to do now that it’s somewhat changing. That he’s confused and he shouldn’t do anything that would cause him further confusion.

But with you in front of him, as real as you can be, smiling and launching into a bunch of topics that is actually dear to his heart, he can’t help but indulge his feelings and bask in your presence, in your smile and your voice, in the sound of your laughter and the way you lean forward so you can speak to him better, a habit that he notices the you in his dream also had.

So he lets go.

Whatever consequence that awaits him, he’ll face it when it comes. Right now, he just wants to pretend like you don’t have a soulmate who’s probably waiting for you back home–who may be worried sick because you haven’t looked at your phone even once since the moment he sits down in front of you.

Wonwoo isn’t usually selfish and he hopes that the universe will let him go this one time for wanting to be–for wanting to keep you to himself even for a limited time. Even if you aren’t aware of it.

This chance might not come again, he tells himself. The chance of talking to you under the stars in front of a random convenience store at ungodly hours, like you’re just two people talking to each other–like soulmates isn’t a thing and he’s free to feel whatever it is he’s feeling.

He wants this, he realizes as his eyes flicker down to your lips for a few seconds, subtle enough for you to miss. He wants a real memory of you. Something real that he can keep to his heart, something that isn’t a part of his dream and a fragment of his memories. And even though he’d go home feeling empty and he’d curse himself tomorrow, it doesn’t matter because what matters now is that you’re here with him and he’s going to take as much as you’re willing to give him.

“I’ve finished reading the book, by the way.” You open another topic. A controversial one, if you may say so yourself, and you know deep down what you’re trying to do by saying this even though you’ll deny it if anyone asks.

“Oh yeah? How do you find it?”

“I think I agree with most of what he said.” You bite your lip, your mind wandering to Joshua for the first time since you saw Wonwoo. “I just… I don’t know. I’m not anti soulmate, I just don’t see why you should succumb to your… instincts? Feelings? And simply accept your soulmate without thinking too much about it.”

Wonwoo doesn’t say anything for a moment and you wonder if he disagrees with you or if he’s simply gathering his thoughts. He seems thoughtful, perhaps trying to find words that won’t offend you before he offers you his opinion.

“Can I ask why you started thinking that way?” he asks instead, and it’s your turn to be silent and arrange your words.

Because you don’t know.

You can’t tell since when do you feel this strongly about the soulmate situation. You used to be quite indifferent about it, not having any opinion whatsoever though you sure weren’t as excited as the other kids your age when it came to romanticizing anything about soulmates.

Your friends would talk about their dream scenarios of the first meeting with their soulmates, or they would go on and on about looking forward to meeting them.

But you were never that excited.

It was just another thing in your life: like eating ice cream or trying out a new cafe. There’s nothing so special about it.

“I think…” You contemplate, wondering if you want to be that honest with this beautiful, familiar stranger in front of you. “It was when I met my soulmate?”

Wonwoo seems surprised, probably not sure how to interpret your words and you don’t blame him at all.

“Sorry?”

“You know how people say that there are… fireworks? And butterflies? Just those big, grandiose feelings blooming inside your chest at once when you meet your soulmate?” He nods, trying to see where you’re going with this. “Well, I… didn’t feel those when I met mine. Sure, it all made sense and it just kinda… clicked in my head. Like a moment of eureka, if you will. But I wasn’t… excited or anything of the sort. If anything, my heartbeat picked up because I was anxious, already worried about what he might expect of me and all that.”

You refuse to look at Wonwoo. You’re not sure what kind of answer that you expect from him, but he doesn’t seem like he’d judge and, between the ungodly hour and the little alcohol that’s left in your system, it feels relieving to finally be able to say this out loud.

You’ve never been able to. Not only because people would call you crazy, but because you know no one wouldn’t not judge you for it.

But here in front of Wonwoo… Jeon Wonwoo who you’ve only met for the third time in your life, you feel safe for reasons that you can’t comprehend.

So you continue. You’ll blame it on the alcohol tomorrow morning, even though you know you’re not intoxicated enough for it to be the case. You’ll justify yourself by saying Wonwoo isn’t a friend and he knows no one in your life–that if this goes south, you technically wouldn’t lose anything.

Yeah.

That’s how you’ll go down this road.

“I mean… I love him, you know?” You would’ve seen Wonwoo’s face drop had you not been busy staring at your nails, still too afraid to look at him despite the resolve you’ve made. “But not… that way.”

“Like… platonic?” Wonwoo offers, careful.

“Yeah…” You bite your lip, trying to stop the tears that suddenly blur your eyes. “Like platonic.”

You hate yourself for the way your heart lightens at your own words. Because even though it’s something that you’ve thought of once before, you bury it so deep somewhere you can’t reach. You never say it out loud to anyone; never admit it to yourself even though you know it’s true.

And to say it like this to another person–out in the open… You hate yourself so fucking much because it’s true and you’re somehow going to hurt Joshua even if you don’t mean to.

Wonwoo panics at the sight of your tears, at the way your lips tremble and the way he’s sure your nails are digging into your palms. He doesn’t know what to do, unsure about what he can do because you’re…, he winces as he thinks to himself, not even a friend.

What is the appropriate distance he needs to keep? Is he even allowed to comfort you? He can’t even be relieved at your revelation because you’re obviously not fine and there’s something churning at the pit of his guts the longer he sees you try to stop yourself from crying.

It’s when a sob eventually escapes your lips that he stops thinking. Because how can he stand still when you’re there crying like you’re admitting a crime worthy of a death sentence? When you can’t even lift your head because you’re trying so damn hard to hide your face and your tears?

He hears you gasp when he wraps his arms around you, something that he wishes you’re okay with, and if there’s anything Wonwoo would describe as magical, it’s the way you perfectly fit against him as you press yourself closer for comfort, your forehead on his neck and your tears warm against his skin. He’s sure he’s just making things up, but it feels like there’s a soft wind going through his whole body, leaving trails of goosebumps on his arms.

It’s probably not the most appropriate moment for him to be feeling that way, but he doesn’t have time to be guilty because it seems like you somewhat share the sentiment–pulling away like you’re electrocuted before you look at him wide-eyed and gaping.

“Won–”

“I’m an outlier.” He cuts you off, riding the rush he’s feeling across his body and letting his honest words get out before he can think too much. He doesn’t know why but he feels like he should tell you and he should do it right now. “I don’t have a soulmate and–”

“Kiss me?” There’s urgency and a slight tremble in your voice as you ask this, fingers grasping the material of his shirt tightly like it’s your lifeline.

“But your soul–”

“Wonwoo, please?”

It’s hard to tell who moves first, or perhaps you two move at the same time, but the moment his lips meet yours, Wonwoo would like to retract his statement earlier about your embrace being magical because it’s nothing compared to this.

It’s absolutely nothing compared to the thousand fireworks exploding in his chest at different intervals–never stopping and electrifying in the most pleasant way possible. He doesn’t know it’s possible for humans to feel this way. Is this what people with a soulmate feels like when they meet their soulmate? Isn’t this what you said earlier: fireworks and butterflies?

It’s not even butterflies in his stomach. He’s pretty sure there’s an earthquake down there. But, the most important of them all, it feels right and it makes sense even though it shouldn’t be.

The longer his lips move against yours, your fingers grasping the front of his shirt to pull him closer while his fingers thread through your hair to pull you closer, the more it feels like… fuck, he hates to say it but, it feels like it’s meant to be.

It’s only because you both need to take a breath that you pull away, and Wonwoo doesn’t think it’s possible for his heart to run even faster than it already is, but it is because, Christ, the way you look like you’re in a trance and your slightly swollen lips are doing things to his heart that he has never experienced before.

It’s a mystery how long you spend looking at each other like that in silence, wrapped against each other without saying anything. He wants so badly to just kiss you senseless once again, but the gears in his head are starting to turn and he knows the right thing to do is to talk.

You have a soulmate. But you asked him to kiss you and he did. And it was magical and all the good things he’s heard before, but it’s not supposed to be… right?

“What was that?” You whisper, more to yourself than to him. “I… I don’t understand?”

He whispers your name softly, trying to pull away only for you to pull him closer again, your eyes full of distress and your body tense, a complete 180 from how you were just seconds ago.

“W—why?” You look at him like he has an answer. But he doesn’t, because he’s not even sure what you’re asking about and he’s still trying to find words to say. “This… this is what they say about–about fireworks and… and butterflies but… you’re not my soulmate? What does this mean?”

Wonwoo tries once again, this time reaching out to caress your hair to calm you down. It helps, because your shoulders visibly relax and he reminds you to breathe. You refuse to let go of him though, and his heart squeezes painfully at how shaken up you seem to be.

“Hey, I’m–I’m not going anywhere, okay?” He tells you softly, trying to appear calm even despite what he’s feeling inside. But he can’t show it. Not when you look so lost and your feelings are presumably all over the place. “I’ll just… get some stuff inside. I’ll be back in a minute, I promise.”

True to his words, Wonwoo comes back not even a minute late with a pack of tissues and two water bottles. He opts to sit right beside you as he hands you the tissue and opens the water for you.

“Here, drink this.”

“Thanks.” You murmur quietly, embarrassed now that you’ve (somewhat) come to your senses. There’s a thousand questions running through your head, some of them hateful, loathing yourself for asking another guy to kiss you when you have a soulmate who’s probably worried sick at home because you haven’t texted him at all since you left the club.

But you have more pressing matters at hand–like why did Wonwoo actually kiss you, and why did it feel like how people around you have been describing what it feels like to be with your soulmate? And… Did he say he’s an outlier?

“Feeling better?” His voice is meek, like he’s not sure if it’s okay to talk to you. But you’re too all over the place to think about politeness and whatnot. It’s a trainwreck inside your head. Your head isn’t dizzy because you’re overthinking; it’s dizzy because you’re thinking of too many things at once–it’s thought after thought after thought after thought. They’re colliding and everything’s a mess.

“You felt that too right?” is the first thing that you manage to say and it’s only after you say it that you realize how horrifying it would be if Wonwoo says no.

He nods, albeit hesitantly, but you don’t really mind because you’ll take anything right now. “It’s… what was that? Why… Why do I feel it with you but not Joshua?”

Joshua is your soulmate, Wonwoo registers in his mind, and he looks at you helplessly, his heart dropping a little at the mention of his name. Should he tell you? About the dreams and the memories? He thinks the dreams and the memories are simply, well, dreams and memories after he met you and Joshua all those nights ago.

Perhaps he really is just an outlier, a special one at that, but that’s about it. He has trampled any hope of making something out of his dreams when it’s clear that you belong to someone else in this lifetime. The universe that gifts him the memory of his past life with you, one that arranges another meeting in this lifetime with you, is the same fucking universe that decides you have a soulmate and it’s not him.

What the fuck was he supposed to do?

But with how he–and you, apparently–feel earlier, he doesn’t think it’s a meaningless coincidence.

He might’ve considered it as one if it was only him feeling it. That he might’ve been desperate and any contact that he was to have with you would simply be magical because it’s nothing but an illusion on his part.

But you?

You’ve just said you feel it too, whatever it might be. And he feels a glimpse of hope even though the whole situation is completely fucked up and there’s no way to get around it without hurting anyone.

How would you feel if you knew?

Would you freak out?

Would you hate him for hiding it?

Would you think he was planning something against you?

Would you laugh at his face and call him crazy?

“You know something.” Your voice brings him back to reality, your eyes searching his face. You don’t sound accusing, you sound downright confused and, dare he says, a tad bit hopeful. “There’s something you’re not telling me… right?”

Wonwoo takes a deep breath and braces himself for whatever he might need to face afterwards. He owes you that much, he thinks to himself. To a certain extent, his memory is your memory, and if you’re as distraught as you seem to be, he hopes this would help you somehow.

“I remember my past life.” He says as calmly as he can, carefully hiding his fear somewhere behind. “They come to my dreams. I thought it was just dreams at first, but they’re… memories and they’ve been getting longer since I met you. Clearer, too.”

It’s hard to say why you’re not freaked out, why you simply believe him like it’s not the craziest thing you’ve heard in your life. But if the universe can decide two people are destined for each other and grant marks to people to seek their other half, why should this be regarded as impossible?

“Did you… know me in your past life?”

Wonwoo smiles bitterly, and it takes everything in you not to reach out to cup his cheek–tell him that he can be honest and you’re going to listen to him no matter what.

“Do you really want me to answer that?”

“As honest as you can be.”

“I might sound crazy.” He whispers, basking in your touch. “This… might affect you in a bad way.”

“Crazier than you remembering your past life?” You smile a little as you say this, which he returns. He appreciates your attempt to lighten up the atmosphere, and he reaches up to take the hand that was cupping his cheek, his fingers tighten around yours before he braces himself once again.

“You were my soulmate.” He rips the bandaid in one go, afraid that he wouldn’t be able to say it otherwise.

It’s hard to describe what you’re feeling: your breath is caught in your throat, the revelation means more than you thought it would. But it’s not shock that’s filling you up. No. It’s recognition, acceptance, and tears because things finally make sense.

“I promised you that I’d find you again in our next life and–”

It finally fucking makes sense why you always feel like there’s something missing in your life, why Joshua’s arrival doesn’t fill it up even though you secretly thought it would; why you feel that pull with Wonwoo since that first time you met him.

You remember that day still. You were just taking a walk, there was no plan whatsoever to sit around and spend time out in the open when it’s so hot outside. But you had seen him by himself, and it felt like time stopped for a few moments and you were enchanted. You felt compelled to look at him–to approach him and ask if it’s okay to take the empty seat on his table.

It wasn’t magical, your first meeting, but something about Wonwoo had pulled you in and you didn’t even try to question it.

The shock you felt when he called you ‘Autumn’ never really died down. And while you tried to convince yourself that it’s simply because it had been a long time since someone referred to you with that name and it was a nickname that is so dear to you, you could feel deep down that there was something else.

And then there was that dream.

Wait.

Right, that dream.

Is that dream…?

“Ginkgo leaf?” You whisper out of nowhere, trying to recall what you saw all those nights ago. “Was that your mark? In your previous life… was that your mark?”

It’s his turn to look at you in shock, the way he’s gaping at you wide-eyed giving you the answer you were looking for.

“H–how?”

“I had a dream, once.” You’ve never felt this vulnerable in your life, but how can you not be when it feels like you’ve just found the reason you’ve been seeking for your whole life? “It was… that night we met… at Namsan. It was your birthday and we were celebrating with a cake and–”

“Hey, breathe?” Wonwoo cuts you off, and you squeeze his fingers in return, only then realizing that you’ve been holding hands the whole time. “Take your time, okay?”

“And I saw the ginkgo leaf on your wrist…” You finish, trying your best not to glance at his wrist even though you know it’s not there. “I didn’t get to see mine though, and that’s why I didn’t assume you were my soulmate.”

“I see…”

You hate how defeated he sounds. And for all the time you’ve been doubting the universe, questioning its means and cursing its ways, you don’t know what to do right now.

Should you be cursing it some more for putting Wonwoo in that position? For making you feel the way you feel only to find out the reason why is because your heart is apparently caught in the past? What does this make Joshua? What does this make your entire relationship with him?

You ask about his dreams, and even though Wonwoo is hesitant at first, he gets more comfortable the more he relays them. And you feel like crying because, apparently, all of them are about you. There’s not one single dream that doesn’t have you in it, and it feels like a punch to your guts to know that he has to live his life with this replaying in his mind, that he can’t even talk about it to anyone because he doesn’t want to risk it, that he’s been keeping something this big for his whole life because he doesn’t really have any other choice.

You grief about the memories you don’t have. About what could’ve been and about the pain Wonwoo has to go through by himself because the universe has arranged you to be with someone else when he’s been seeing pictures of you with him in his dreams.

“What… what do you think we should do?” You throw the question out there, hope that someone has the answer. But Wonwoo stays silent, and he looks at you with eyes full of yearning that wrenches your soul. You know what he’s trying to say. You’re the one who has a soulmate. Whatever that he might want with you, what he might’ve imagined throughout the entire time he has those memories, they all don’t mean anything because you’re off limits.

“I don’t… think there’s anything that we can do.”

“But–”

“It’s okay.” He shakes his head with a sad smile. “I didn’t… I wasn’t expecting anything. I didn’t even think I’d be talking about this with you.”

“But, still!” You’re grasping his hand tightly–as if he’ll be gone if you let go even slightly. “This… this has got to mean something!”

“You have a soulmate.” He reminds you, his voice shaking. And tears blur your eyes once again at how resigned he sounds, but can you blame him? The universe has fucked him up in more ways than one, you would’ve lost it a long time ago if you were him, but here he is, taking care of you still even though it might make things worse for him.

“Do you love me?”

Wonwoo exhales deeply, pressing his lips together to hide the fact that they’re trembling because he’s so close to tears.

“I know my past self loved you more than life itself.”

“Do you love me?”

“Look–I…”

“Because there’s—there’s clearly something because my heart feels like it’s about to burst and I already want to be with you all the time.” You cry as you honestly bare yourself in front of him, as you tell him all the emotions that have been going through you since the kiss you share with each other minutes ago. “I don’t… I’ve never felt like this before and I’ve always questioned why–wonder what went wrong and if there’s some kind of mistake. But I couldn’t do anything because supposedly he’s my soulmate and I’m supposed to accept that. Because it’s a given and it’s obvious and there’s just no fucking reason for me to question it.”

Wonwoo lets his tears fall as you say all this, his hands warm against yours and he relishes at the way you’re holding on to them tightly, like you want to convince him that there’s something–some way to go around this.

“But you just gave me a reason to question it now.” You sob, reminding him about the talk you had the first time you met each other.

If fate and destiny actually exist, who is there to say that what the universe has decided for you is your best path?

You must look absolutely hideous right now, with tears all over your face that won’t stop no matter how many times you wipe them. But you don’t care, because you finally feel content with him beside you. Because even though it’s selfish and you would need to figure out the whole Joshua situation, you’re not going to let go of the person who finally makes you feel complete, who makes you realize the things your friends have been saying are all true: that it just makes sense, that it’s practically binding to the point where you even hate to think about having to separate with him after this night ends.

“You told me I could always go against my destiny if that’s what I choose to do. Why are you not letting me? Do you not feel it?”

“I do. I swear, I feel it too.” He wipes the last of his tears and calms himself down, makes you panic when he tries to let go of your hands only for his palm to rest warmly against the side of your face. “But you have a soulmate and it’s not something that you can decide by yourself. It wouldn’t be fair to him, don’t you think?”

“Has the universe ever been fair to you?” You ask him, wondering how he can still have this much consideration for someone who he should’ve harbored ill feelings for.

“It leads me to you, doesn’t it? In two different lifetimes too.” He smiles and caresses your cheek, wiping your tears also.

“Please stop making me cry.” You whisper weakly, certain that your eyes will be red and puffy once you’ve stopped crying.

Wonwoo chuckles at this, and the sound of his small laughter brings a smile out of you despite the tears.

“I’m not saying you’re not in your right mind. But perhaps… we’re too high on our emotions right now, don’t you agree?”

You don’t. You really don’t. But you get what he’s saying so you nod and instead bask in the way his thumb is caressing the apple of your cheek.

“So what do you suppose we should do?

“You… might want to think this through and have a talk with… Joshua.” It’s bizarre to hear Joshua’s name from Wonwoo, but you know he’s right and if… if you want to try whatever it is you’re going to try with Wonwoo, you don’t want to do it in hiding and you don’t want to betray Joshua’s trust and respect more than you probably already have at this point. He might hate you, he might not accept it, but you have to at least try and a part of you believes Joshua would understand somehow. “And then we can decide from then?”

“Okay…” You close your eyes and lean forward to rest your forehead against his shoulder, feeling his arm pulling you closer and trying to memorize his scent and his warmth to calm the erratic beat of your heart. “Okay.”

Wonwoo takes you home, sitting a good distance from you in the taxi like you both weren’t pressed against each other just minutes prior. But you know why he’s doing it, and you still appreciate him for going with you just to make sure you’ll go back safely even if he doesn’t have to.

For the first time that night, your mind wanders to Joshua. About how you should approach the subject with him and all the consequences you might need to face afterwards. It’s not going to be pretty even if Joshua somehow understands: what would you say to your family? To his family?

But you can’t let go of Wonwoo. Not now that you’ve met him, that you’ve found out what his existence means to you and you’ve felt all the magic you’ve been hearing from other people.

You wonder now if the reason why you’ve questioned the whole soulmate system is because it doesn’t apply to you personally. Because you didn’t feel the pull and all that should’ve come along with the first meeting.

Now that you’ve felt it with Wonwoo… You glance at him, which Wonwoo catches almost right away. He smiles at you, though you can tell his eyes are full of worries, his mind probably elsewhere. You don’t blame him though, what has transpired tonight is beyond the two of you; it’s only right for him to be out of it.

You suddenly feel like one of those stupid main characters in a romance movie, one who would throw everything away for a man they barely know. But your heart knows Wonwoo, yearns for him before you even know it. In a world where two people are destined to be together… you don’t think it’s stupid of you to want to do this.

When the driver tells you that you’ve arrived you hesitate before you get off, not wanting to leave Wonwoo. But he smiles in encouragement, tells you that you have his number and you’re free to text him after you’ve figured things out.

He omits Joshua from his sentence, but you know that’s what he means.

“Hey.” He calls for you right when you’re about to close the door and reaches out to squeeze your hand once, letting go before you can return the gesture. “Don’t rush it, okay? Take your time. I’ll be waiting. You know I’m good at that.”

Wonwoo waits.

Days turn into weeks and weeks turn into months.

There’s a reason why he gave you his number instead of asking for yours.

He wants you to be ready before deciding anything, wants you to make the decision that you think is best for you.

He knows he’d call you right away if he has your number, to make sure you’re okay and to see how you’re doing.

But that’d be even more painful, he feels like. More painful than a thousand scenarios going through his mind because he’s by himself. At least like this, he knows it’s nothing but scenarios that he comes up with; nothing is real and it’s all in his head.

Like his dreams.

Like his memories.

He exhales as he looks at his phone once again, waiting for your message that isn’t coming.

The third time Wonwoo meets you might be the last time he sees you, after all.

Three months later, October comes around, yellow leaves telling him that autumn has arrived. Not his Autumn, obviously, and he glares at the ginkgo tree he passes by that is still annoyingly green even though everything else has started to turn yellow.

The third week of October, you finally text Wonwoo, apologizing for the time you took and asking if it’s still okay to see each other even though it’s been months since then. He says yes, of course, and you’re currently sitting anxiously in the taxi on your way to his place.

You don’t know how Wonwoo is going to take what you’re about to tell him and you don’t think it’s wise to be having this conversation out in the open; hence why you’re thankful that he agrees when you ask if it’s okay to talk in the privacy of his walls.

“Hi.” He opens the door, offering you a small smile that you return tightly. It’s weird that you immediately feel at peace in his presence despite the anxiety that has been building up in your chest.

“Hi.” You press your lips together, exhaling a deep breath before you apologize to him once again. “Sorry it took me quite some time to text you. I didn’t want to… rush, like you said.”

“It’s okay.” You know it’s not, you can tell by how tense it is and how forced his smile seems to be. Plus, it doesn’t take a genius to know why he looks like he hasn’t been getting decent sleep because you know you probably would’ve looked the same if not for your makeup.

He ushers you to come in, tells you to sit down on the sofa and offers you a drink, in which you say you’re fine with just water.

Wonwoo returns with a cup of warm tea though, and he says that he’s put some honey in it, that you look tense and hopefully the drink helps.

“I figure you’ve made up your mind?”

Truth be told, you can’t even begin to imagine what’s been going on inside Wonwoo’s head. You offered yourself to him only to go missing for three months straight, not even a text that tells him that you’re okay and you’re not forgetting him.

But you didn’t want to text him when things were uncertain, not with what happened right after you got home–with what went down between you and Joshua.

You couldn’t.

That’s why you’ve only finally managed to text him a few days ago. With things being in the clear, you can finally talk to him and decide what’s going to happen moving forward.

“Give me a chance to explain?” You look at him hopefully.

“I wouldn’t tell you to come if I wasn’t going to listen to you.” His smile lifts parts of your tension, and you take a deep breath before you begin, already having imagined this conversation a hundred times in your head.

“Joshua was there when I came home that night.” You bite your lip, already feeling like crying as you recall that scene in your head. “He was on the floor, passed out. He wouldn’t wake up no matter how much I shook him, and I realized he was clutching his neck–right where our soulmate marks are. It was hot, like it was burning before, and I called the hospital right away and–”

“Wait–burning?”

“Yes and… and the mark was fading and it was only hours later that I realized mine was fading also.” You swallow hard at this, a painful wave crashes against your heart as you recall his face when he came to, when he told them what happened and when they told him what actually happened.

“It just… started burning out of nowhere.”

The doctor glanced at you, your eyes were puffy from crying even more than you already did before that, your fingers tight against Joshua’s because you thought you’d lost him.

“Did you feel the burn also?” The doctor pulled you out after Joshua fell back asleep, a conclusion already knitting itself together in her mind. There’s no way you’d be fine enough to stand on your own feet if you had felt the burn, but still, she had to make sure before jumping into conclusions.

“No…” You sniffled. “I… was out with… a friend and he already passed out when I came back home.”

“No pain, at all?”

You shook your head, mentally and physically exhausted after everything that had happened in the last twenty four hours.

“No. I–He’d be fine, right?” You asked in desperation. “What… what happened, exactly?”

“We need to run some more tests. But… you’re sure you didn’t feel anything at all?”

“No, I didn’t. I really didn’t. Does that mean anything?”

“They… they said it’s the universe… taking our marks from us.” You force a smile just right after the first tear falls, your feelings still all over the place even though almost three months have passed since then. “Apparently, it had happened before. Though it’s been fifty years or so since they last heard of a case. They couldn’t really tell why it happened because there weren’t many cases to study and compare, but I felt like… I might have an idea why it happened so I met the doctor privately and told her about you.”

Wonwoo holds back the urge to reach for your hands that are balled into fists, to free your lower lip from your teeth because he’s sure you’d bleed if you bite down just a tad bit harder.

“She said that there’s a possibility that I was right. That… the universe is rearranging my soulmate because I met you. It’s not unheard of, but it’s not something that you’d even find in books because it’s some sort of myth at this point.”

You look up to meet his eyes. His heart breaks at how sad you look, and the protective feeling from three months ago when he saw you crying at one in the morning returns at once. He’s not sure if it’s okay to comfort you this time around though, because by the way you’re relaying the story, he can’t tell at all where you stand exactly.

“I was debating with myself whether it would be better to tell him right away or wait until he got better. But Joshua… caught on easily that something bothered me and it just… came out. I didn’t say your name, and I only told him what he might need to know: that I met someone and it just… made sense.

It wasn’t easy. He was the one laying on the hospital bed but he was also the one comforting me. And I felt so bad and I kept on apologizing to him but he said it’s okay and he understood. That it’s not my fault because he knew I didn’t have a say in how I felt.”

From the thousand scenarios Wonwoo has imagined in the three months you left him in silence, this is not one of them. He can’t even begin to imagine how painful it must’ve been for Joshua, both physically and mentally. His mind takes him back to Jisoo, about what she said about the burn she felt and how it affected her after.

How could Joshua say that in his position?

For what it’s worth, Wonwoo is glad to know that you were meant to be with someone as caring as Joshua is–who is so understanding that he would withstand that kind of pain and said it was fine. That he doesn’t blame you for it.

But where does this leave the two of you now?

“He asked me what I wanted to do now that we’re… no longer bonded by the marks. And I told him honestly that I don’t want to lose him; that I still… love him even though it’s not how he expected me to. That I understand if he doesn’t want me around because it can’t be easy to look at someone who used to be your soulmate.”

You’re sobbing at this point, and he hands you some tissues to wipe your tears, reminds you to breathe before you continue.

“Can you… can you hold me, please?” Your voice is small as you say this, as if you’re uncertain whether you’re allowed to ask that. Wonwoo is glad you did though, because he immediately comes closer and pulls you into his chest, offering you whatever comfort he might be able to give that way. “Sorry, I just–”

“Shh. It’s fine.” Whatever the outcome of this conversation may be, this is the least he can do for you. And perhaps a little for himself also, because it’s painful to see you cry and not able to do anything at all. Because he’s been dreaming of hugging you–the you in this lifetime, not the past one–and he’s not going to pass any chance that’s presented in front of him even if it might be wrong. He still doesn’t know how your talk ended with Joshua, but if you asked him to hold you… that should mean something, right? “Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Promise?” You sniffle, pulling away to look at him.

“It is my place, so.” He tries to joke to help you relax, and it works because you weakly hit his chest before you exhale another deep breath and continue after Wonwoo makes you take a sip of your tea.

“He… He’d like to keep me around too.” You say quietly, your tears now replaced with hiccups. “But not now. Because it still hurts and… and he says he’d contact me once he’s ready.”

“And how do you feel about that?”

You shrug, burying yourself further into his neck. Is it bad that it feels so right to do this already? Is it bad that you’re doing this when you’re still trying to move on from your guilt?

“I honestly have no idea… But… Well, he says he wants me to be happy with you and that he doesn’t want me to not give you–us–a chance because I feel guilty towards him. That… what’s done is done and he’ll eventually be okay.”

“He’s very kind, isn’t he?” He comments instead, unsure how to feel after everything you’ve said. A big part of him is relieved, but it’s still hard to be completely happy when he knew it cost someone the kind of pain that would last a lifetime.

“The kindest.” You smile for the first time, agreeing with him. “I think that’s also why I’ve always had this guilt within me, you know? Even before I met you. Because I just know I can’t return his feelings but he was supposed to be my soulmate.”

“I understand.” He whispers against your head, leaning his cheek there. “Is that also why it took you three months to text me?”

“Partly… yeah. I ended up taking care of him until he got discharged, and we decided to just… talk to our parents separately about what happened and what… might happen moving forward. And then I spent some time arranging my thoughts and cleaning up his stuff from my apartment. I haven’t given them back to him, but they’re all in a box in my place. So… yeah. Sorry for not texting you at all.”

He hums and holds you tighter, feels the way your arms are also hugging him in apology. He doesn’t press about your parents, he supposes you would’ve talked about it if you want to. But you’ve just relayed a very emotionally loaded story which must be very exhausting in itself.

“I did tell you to take your time.” He says, a smile blooming into his face at what he says next. “Thank you for coming back to me.”

“Thank you for letting me come back to you.” You say instead, pulling away from him to meet his eyes. Your eyes must be puffy from all the crying, gosh, you seem to be crying all the time when you’ve only seen this guy four times in total. You wonder if you were this much of an emotional wreck too in your past life, but you decide against asking about it because it does not matter now.

Your past lives might be the one that eventually leads you to each other; but Wonwoo has probably had enough stories regarding the past life and you don’t see why you should talk about it when you have the future in front of you.

“They’ve stopped, you know?” Wonwoo suddenly says.

“What have?”

“The dreams.” He presses his lips together and looks at you for comfort, which you readily give as you squeeze his shoulder. “They don’t appear anymore. Like, completely stopped. I do dream of you, but not… you from the past life. Just you.”

“How do you know it’s not me from the past?”

He takes your hand before he answers, gently lifts it up to point at your empty wrist and smiles.

“Because there’s no mark on your wrist.”

“Ah… right.” You lean forward to rest your forehead against his shoulder, and you spend a moment like that: your body pressed against each other and the ghost of his lips on top of your head.

It’s then that you whisper, a little afraid but also hopeful–perhaps even excited at what the future might have in store for you two.

“Are we really doing this?”

“A little too late to not do this, I think.” He jokes, which earns him another hit on the chest and a glare that doesn’t affect him at all. He cups your cheek and looks into your eyes, making you shy from the sudden attention. “If you want it then I want it. Easy as that.”

You press your lips together and bask in his stare, get lost in his eyes as you finally try to let go of the guilt holding you down and focus more on the certainty that you felt that night you tried to convince Wonwoo to do something about your situation.

“I’ll be okay.” Joshua reassured you for the nth time as you dropped him off his place, your second home that you probably wouldn’t be able to visit until an indefinite time. “Don’t worry too much about me, okay? You know how I am.”

“I’m really–”

“I don’t want you to apologize again.” He cuts you off, his voice stern. “I don’t blame you, I really don’t. I’m happy to know you’ve met someone that has made you complete. I’m sorry for not being able to do that to you. It must’ve been hard for you all those time, hm? So try to be happy now. Don’t think too much about me. I will be okay, trust me on that. I’ve never gone back on my words, have I? I don’t regret the time I had with you and I don’t want you to feel guilty for not feeling a certain way.”

“Let’s do it, then?” You say, wanting to make sure like there’s any way Wonwoo would say no. “Fuck the universe, right?”

Wonwoo laughs and gently squishes your cheeks before he nods, his forehead leaning to rest against yours, his breath warm against your face even though his lips aren't touching yours just yet.

“Fuck the universe, indeed.”

It's later that night that you point at the inside of his wrist and gasp when you check yours: identical marks of a twin gingko leaves intertwined with each other adorning your wrist and his.

Wonwoo grins.

His Autumn is finally here.

©wonwoonlight – all rights reserved. I don’t allow any reposting, translation, and any other kind of redistribution of this fic. Please tell me if you’re aware of anyone doing this without my permission.

permanent taglist: @kyeomjjigae @stantrash171819 @sebongmochi @luveveryonewoo @thinkinboutwonu @kpopjackie @ursweetener @lavenderautumnx @itsveronicaxxx @shuahoshiscoups @sunshinein17 @leechanniee @twogyuu @hoe4wonwoo @h3h3tm0n @noraehey @seokshook @rubyhoons @02psh @just-here-to-read-01 @listxn @janandbeyond @pearlygraysky @baekhyunstruly @svtreverie @coveyland @reallydgafaboutmyusername @sysymei @ovai @aikisbbq @fr0g-filez @nvmbheart

pls tell me if you wanna be removed btw it's totally ok, no hard feelings!!

A/N 2: well, if you're reading this, thank you once again!! i have never written this trope before and i honestly can't tell at all if you'll like it or not. but i wrote this for wonwoo's birthday, so hopefully i'll have it in me to accept it if it's not your cup of tea. but anyway, it's been some time since i write anything this long also--didn't even know i had it in me to still write anything this long, and it kinda made me realize that... this might be my last long piece for a quite some time. it's not easy to write this, to see my notifications everyday and see less and less feedbacks while the likes take up 95% of them. i've said it before, but it gets discouraging the more it goes. i'm not announcing hiatus or anything, but i hope you know where my blog stands at this point. happy birthday once again wonwoo, my muse, the loml 🥰💕

#caratwritersclub #wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo angst #seventeen scenarios #seventeen angst #seventeen fic #seventeen fluff #seventeen scenario #seventeen au #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo au #wonwoo fanfic #wonwoo imagines #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines

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aho-dapa · 2 months

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Side note, because I'm watching a video essay that's pretty much saying everything I've been thinking about about,

With sjm's writing, what separates it from a typical romantasy not to take seriously is that post ACOTAR, the author suddenly says to take it seriously.

Feyre's Calanmai Hall scene isn't about Feyre not wanting Tamlin's advances, but that she does, she's just doing the typical romantasy protag thing of rejecting what you really desire. Think about how this contrasts with Rhysand's scenes utm, she doesn't want them and its not given enough detail, but this changes after Feyre and Rhysand get together. For example, the CoN scene. The fucking mid air thing. The telepathy sexting that can happen at anytime without true consequence. Very exhibition. Much voyeur.

This is literally sjm's fantasies played out through Feyre and Rhysand, and even through Feyre and Tamlin.

Despite how much I like Tamlin, he only really became a truly nuanced character in hindsight for me because of sjm's unintentional manipulations of her own narrative. In ACOTAR, he's also built around Feyre the same way most characters are in the first book.

He is built to fit into Feyre, he's meant to parallel her acceptance of her own desires, her own beast through him, because submitting to him is submitting to herself. That's why Feyre's themes get mixed up post ACOTAR, she loses that beast like quality to become a star to suit Rhysand. And sjm brings that back in ACOWAR with the Mirror (although it doesn't hit like it once would have because instead to fitting Rhysand to Feyre, sjm wrote Feyre to fit Rhysand).

The thing that's frustrating is that sjm is the one that is saying these are just not her fantasies on page, she's the one that brought mental health into it, brought up abuse and neglect, and handled it all so poorly.

It's this thing where sjm still wants to have the upturned-nose high ground in her books, she wants to be right, she doesn't want Feyre to be questioned or truly be in the wrong because Feyre is her fantasy. sjm likely writes Tamlin to not like human slavery, not want to be like his father, and with a self sacrificing personality while keeping his beast like qualities for the steamy parts. Because he's written to have that middle ground most people looking for that fantasy can still enjoy while not being too disturbing for our modern sensibilities.

That's why some people not looking for this find Tamlin and Rhysand's actions strange and gross, but people who already indulge in those fantasies were okay with it. And there's even people who think that ACOTAR is too vanilla (me). Anyway.

Basically, ACOTAR is not meant to be taken seriously, its literally another romance book with a fancy (?) cover. Post ACOTAR is not tho, so sjm makes a big deal about taking it seriously because she wants that middle ground with Rhysand when honestly, Rhysand could have been a dark romance ML and no one would have batted an eye. But that wouldn't work for the precedent sjm established with the middle ground, she needs that 'he's feral and sexy and toes the consent line but it's fine because xyz' in her books, and that's why the fandom is so divided. We can't decide whether or not to take it seriously or not because sjm switched up.

Her fault as a writer is that she didn't do this well at all.

I mean, this is also coming from the same woman that briefly had another one of her characters entertain their sovereign right to colonization in goodwill, so. This woman should never have been taken seriously. Unfortunately, she insists upon herself. So in order to actually discuss these books, we have to take her silliness seriously.

(Which is why I stopped because it's an endless cycle of saying sjm wrote something silly and because she's saying it's serious, now we gotta be serious about bat birthing or whatever)

Never forget how I saw a bat get birthed just to actualize how stupid the *gets shot*

#sorry but like #i don't like sjm at all so #anti sjm #feyre archeron #tamlin #rhysand #acotar #feylin #feysand #oh #pro tamlin #i guess #i will never let go of aelin colonizer when sjm used nehemia as a tool to combat that exact same narrative #its fucked and thats how you know nehemia was just a narrative tool to sjm and aelin to some degree

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sunny-mercya · 6 months

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Of Nightmarish Phobias

Poly! Billy Loomis & Stu Macher x Male Reader

Fandom -> Scream 1996

Requested by -> Anon

Masterlist

Ever since the dreadful accident, sleep—something which wouldn't come easily anymore—had been deprived from the three of you, leaving you all sluggish to move through the day.

Stu would be the first one to wake up—even though he's more of a heavyweight sleeper, sleeping till late afternoon if no one would wake him up—and being a sprawler, his lanky long limps like a starfish hitting his two boyfriends every now and then, he could easily bring you into a koala hug like headlock.

Like mention before, Stu sleeps heavily—sunken so deep into the dreamland and in the comforts of bed, that he wouldn't even notice if the sky would shatter down onto earth.

Though now, besides Billy's rough way of waking him up—a slap to his thighs—the slightest hectic movement from you would bring him to a point of rise.

Turning onto his sides, towards you, Stu moves you into his arms. Holding you tight to

Where while Billy, who could sleep just as deep if wanted to—but didn't, liked to be on natural guard—would occasionally wake up on his own, checking up on you and taking a toilet break.

Billy was more the rational—doesn't mean he hadn't a soft side—person of comfort and Stu—who could be just as mean if needed—the one for emotional support. They're both their counterparts and at the same time they completed one another—like missing puzzles or Yin and Yang.

In all this you're the pull of glue which hold them both together. From the beginning of your relationship, you had giving them nothing but unconditional warm comfort of love, making sure they're happy and satisfied.

Though after the accident it all had changed and now it was their turn to shower you in unconditional love and support.

Simply because they adored you just as much as you do them and because you're their driving force—the sole motivation of reasons—why they decided to do what they do; delightful killing.

~~~

Stu groaned in pain, doubling over into a fetal position as your hand collided with his stomach in full force again. Sure, you had lost some strength in your muscles—on practically terrible days couldn't even stand on your own without having help or an aid—but you still were able to give a few good hits.

Whatever dream it was this time, it made your hand hitting down on repeat—like a cat would do when trying to catch a toy.

Another groan from Stu, had you hit his side this time. Should he try and wrap you into a blanket hug again or wake Billy up?

He couldn't tell how server your nightmare is this night. If it's just a common one—he really doesn't know the different types of nightmares and their names and neither does Billy, so they decided to give them their own ranks, for a more easily weighting out of options and methods to use against you—or one of the terrific ones.

The ranks of Nightmares goes like this; A common one means, letting you it trashing it out. Mid ones, wrapping you up into a blanket or tight hug. Terrible ones, waking you up. Terrific ones—where you're in a sense awake at the same time and giving yourself also a panic attack at the same time, without realising—would mean injecting you with a sedative.

More than often they had to use the Sedative during Common or terrible ones too.

Which they shouldn't, as the doctor said not to and only when absolutely necessary needed—the sedative was quite strong, making you sleep through a whole day and brings your mind into a state of fuzzy haze when awake again, that it turns you vulnerable and incoherent.

But when you're so immersed into your panic, they had no other options at hand, then to inject it into your blood.

»Fuck.« Billy cursed out loud when your hand landed onto his stomach, full force. Stu stifles a chuckle—serves you right, he thought, if I have to suffer so does you.

Billy sats up, blankets dropping down from him, turning his head to his boyfriends and squinting into the darkness a bit.

»Shut up Stu. Next time you wake me beforehand, when [Name] starts to trash around like this.« grumbled Billy, hissing shortly after when his thigh got slapped.

Christ, could you hit hard when unintentionally wanted to.

»Nah, make me«

»C'mon big guy, let's go to the couch to get at least some sleep.«

~~~

A few hours later, in the early mornings, your screaming woke Billy and Stu up. Like cold water being dumped on them, they tumbled from the couch and onto the floor.

Wide awake now, on full guard—you screaming was never a good thing—and ready to strike an attack to whatever intruder might have come, they untangled them from each other limps.

Bolting with quick steps back into the bedroom, switching the lights on and discovering you.

Sitting on the ground, against the nightstand. Head in hands, gripping your hair tightly—pulling at it—trembling uncontrollably in shivers.

»Baby, what's wrong?« asked Billy, voice soft and in a audible whisper. Slowly approaching you with Stu, crouching down and stretching his hand out into your view.

»He's here. He's here. He's here.« you chanted it like a mantra, rocking back and forth.

»Who's here, darling?«

»Dylan! He's here! He's back! He will hurt me again!« your head whipped up, looking at Billy with a wide fear filled face. Tears already flowing from you eyes as you pointed with a shaking finger at the wardrobe.

»Baby, baby, he isn't here, believe me.« said Stu, leaning against the wall. They know Dylan isn't here, have killed him after all to ensure your safety.

»Yes he is!« jumping up, pushing Billy and Stu aside and going to the wardrobe, you opened it wide—searching through the clothes.

You shirked in utterly disbelief. He was here, you're sure of it. You have saw him just mere minutes ago, when you woke up—saw his face looking down at you and the grin he had giving you.

It's a tragic and also a daily sight for them to see you so distressed in panic. How you destroyed yourself mentally further, with the slow rise of losing reality and growing into a paranoia.

»Nononononono« a hiccup left your lips, kneeling down, gripping your hair again and hitting your head against the floor. Mumbling incoherent words, messy nonsense things.

»Stu, get the Syringe« Billy pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling deeply. That's the third time in a row now, that they had to use the sedative. Thought they had no other choice or you would've injured yourself in your panicking state of hysteria more.

At this point they probably overdosing you with the chemical drug of calm, but what other choice had they? Sending you into therapy and they, the therapist signed you off into a mental institution? No chance.

Billy goes to you, heaving you up into his arms and moving you towards the bed. Sitting you and himself down onto the mattress, prying your hands from your head.

~~~

When Stu came back in, syringe in hand, Billy had managed to calm you down significantly, looking just a tad exhausted.

Billys grip around your body tightens, knowing well what was about to come next.

Once you took notice of the syringe in Stu's hand and the apologetic look he wore, you winced visibly in Billy arms.

You hated every type of needles. The sharp point brought a sense of pain filled imaginations. How it stabs into your skin, piercing a hole into it and either sucking your blood or letting it flow out.

Needles are a tool of something sinister.

Billy had pinned you down onto the mattress, hovering over you and this was the only cruel thing they had do to you—reminding you of the night when Dylan had hovered over you, grinning down, licking his lips in lust when he stabbed the scissors into you—so Billy lets you trash as much as you wanted.

»Let me go! Let me go! Nonono no. LET ME GO!« you screamed, trying to headbutt Billy, trying to free yourself.

You don't want the needle be pierced into your skin again, has it enough tiny disgusting holes already.

Stu joined, taking a seat next to you. Taking your arm from Billys grip, he injected the syringe into your skin.

While the drugs take their time to flow into your system, Billy and Stu had both engulfed you into their arms. Caressing you and whispering sweet nothings into your ear, till you're completely numb of panic—drowsy and calm.

»Goodnight, love«

#male reader #x male reader #fanfiction #oneshot #malereader #scream x male reader #scream #scream 1996 #poly! billy and stu x male reader #billy x stu x male reader #billy loomis x male reader #stu macher x male reader #billy loomis #stu macher #poly! ghostface x male reader #poly! billy loomis & stu macher x male reader #fluff #requested by anon #request ask

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the-blind-assassin-12 · 4 months

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Change of Plans

A/N: Although I am SEVERAL days late at this point, this is a gift for @something-tofightfor - HAPPY BIRTHDAY, RACHAEL! I hope your day was all that you wanted it to be, and that this year is the best fucking one yet. I so badly wanted this to be done in time, but you know me. Anywho, I love your guts and I hope you enjoy this chaotic little cake I whipped up with the help of one of your favorite cowboys.

Word count: 4k

Warnings: listen, don't do what Reader does here. Other than that... just some language. It's very tame. But don't do it.

Summary: Jack is there on business. You're there for pleasure.

He noticed you right away.

Sitting in the waiting area near gate A-7, right leg crossed over your left and an open book in one hand, you caught his eye -

Well hello, gorgeous.

- and he had to repeatedly free his focus from your direction, reminding himself why he was at the airport in the first place.

Damn it, Agent, you’ve got a job to do.

You turned the page of the book you were reading, letting out a sigh and stretching your neck, and Jack adjusted his position on the barstool he occupied so that he was forced to change his line of sight. He cleared his throat, lifting his glass to his lips and taking a sip. The bold, smoky flavor of the deep amber whiskey coated his tongue, and by the time he swallowed he was back on his task.

He’d been sent to locate and detain a known associate of a crime boss that Statesman was attempting to bring down. Intel gathered from Agents assigned to the case suggested that the associate - a mid level player who occasionally dealt in black market weapons - would be traveling through Louisville on his way to meet with the mysterious and nefarious man they knew only as The Gatekeeper. The current theory was that The Gatekeeper was operating out of San Francisco - or more specifically, out of a secret underwater lair that was built into one of the foundational structures of the Golden Gate Bridge, hence his nickname. But Statesman had been unable to confirm that yet. Catching up with the Gatekeeper’s gun runner was their best bet when it came to pinning down his location for sure, and since he had the most experience with facial recognition and planting trackers, the assignment had gone to Agent Whiskey.

So let’s find this shit kicker and get on with it so I can get on with… He resisted the urge to turn back in your direction.

Setting his glass down on the cork coaster it was served to him on, he brought his newly emptied hand up to tap the arm of his gold wire glasses. At the touch of his fingertip, the stealth lens screens activated, and he used them to scan the faces of the people moving through the terminal. So far none had hit as a match for the Gatekeeper’s associate, but since the man was clever enough to book himself tickets on multiple flights that day to make it harder for anyone who might be looking to follow him, Jack had to keep checking until he either found his target or the last of those flights had taken off.

I’ll find him. Soon as he shows up I’ll-

But Jack didn’t even need to finish the thought, because his lenses detected the person he’d been waiting for before he could. Just as he was about to get up from his seat and position himself to intercept his target, though, he saw something else flash across his lenses.

Mission directive has changed. Do not detain. Intel from Kingsman suggests associate may also be working with Golden Circle remnants in Canada. New directive is only to place the tracker and not to pursue until we know for sure who he is meeting. Agents in Vancouver and San Francisco have been put on alert and will be activated as needed.

Jack blinked twice to acknowledge Ginger’s message, then used the movement of his eyes to send a question in response.

Received. Return to HQ?

He had his jet on standby there at the airport in the event that he needed to abscond with The Gatekeeper’s man, and he assumed that since that was no longer necessary, Champ and Ginger would want him to come back and await further information. Keeping one eye on his target, he used the other to read the new message that flashed across his lens, finding it to be a surprise.

Negative. Don’t want to risk the chance of counter tracking. Take the Pony somewhere for a few days first. Vegas or Denver are preferable but Mexico City is also available.

Well, shoot. Looks like I’m takin’ a vacation. My favorite kind of mission.

Ginger had listed cities where Statesman owned properties that were reserved for off duty use - for when Agents had to lay low for a while, or for when they needed a safe place to recover from injuries sustained in the line of duty. There were several more located around the world, but judging by the selection that was presented to him, they wanted him to stay close enough to either have him back in Kentucky in a matter of hours, or send him to California or British Columbia in a pinch when the intel on who the associate was meeting with came back.

Received. Target inbound. Contact when directive complete.

With that, he lifted his finger up to tap the arm of his glasses once more, the screens deactivating so that he could remove them, folding them for safe storage in the inner pocket of his jacket. In a turn of luck, his mark headed straight for the bar he was seated at and sat down two stools over. He showed no signs of having made Jack for a secret operative, not even bothering to look in his direction as he ordered a drink from the bartender.

Perfect.

Jack’s grin was imperceptible as he used his thumb and pointer finger to pull one of the small “buttons” from the cuff of his jacket sleeve. Flattening it with a tight pinch, he dropped the bio-tracker into his own beverage and watched as it dissolved into the liquid. It finished just as the bartender placed a rocks glass of whiskey on a coaster in front of Jack’s target. He waited for the other man to take a sip, and then he closed the distance, scooting over one stool so that he was right next to him, and then he greeted the man with a jovial tone.

“Did my ears deceive me just now, or did I hear you order the Statesman 12 year, my friend?” Jack pointed to the other man’s glass while holding his own.

The other man turned to face Jack, a semi-scowl on his face, his annoyance over being addressed by a seemingly drunken stranger as a “friend” clearly written in gray-green eyes. “What?” He glanced down at Jack’s glass and then at his own. “Oh.” He grunted and gave Jack a nod before taking another sip of his drink. “Yeah. You drinking the same, I take it?” He arched one eyebrow and turned back to face the television screen behind the bar without waiting for the answer to the question he’d just asked.

“Smoothest bourbon there is.” Jack held up his glass, inspecting the contents. To anyone else’s eye - even the man beside him - it would appear as though he were simply appreciating the way the overhead lights streaked through the rich amber liquid. In truth, he was making sure that the button-turned-tracker had been completely infused into the drink. Seeing that it was, he glanced over and caught his mark with his own glass midway to his lips once more.

Slow down there, son, leave some for our toast.

Reaching for the man’s elbow, he stopped him from draining the last of his beverage. “How about we both raise our glasses to good taste and safe travels?”

The other man jerked his arm away as though he’d been burned, the motion accompanied by a deeply frustrated sigh. Checking his watch, he rolled his eyes and shook his head at Jack. “Sure Fine. Just make it quick, I have a flight to catch.”

As he presented his glass for the toast, Jack aggressively clinked the rim of his against it - with just enough force so that some of his drink had sloshed into the other man’s glass without him noticing. “Quick it is. Safe travels.”

“Uh huh.” The sketch of a scowl was back as the man nodded again, knocking back the remainder of his drink, including the tracker. “Same to you.” With that, he slapped a fifty on the bar and left his empty glass, on his way to whatever gate would take him to whatever scumbag was waiting for him.

The Gatekeeper or the Golden Circle… or whoever the fuck else. We’ll know soon enough.

Taking his glasses back out of his pocket, Jack unfolded them and put them back on his face. With a tap of his finger the one-way screens hidden in the lenses activated again, and through a series of blinks and subtle eye movements, he sent confirmation of his mission back to Ginger Ale.

Tracker planted. Target in motion.

Before he got a response, though, he was distracted by a voice coming from over his shoulder. “Excuse me? Is anyone sitting there?”

He turned towards the speaker and his eyes widened, lips lifting into a slight grin when he saw that it was you.

Hot damn, she’s even prettier up close.

His grin grew at your sudden, small intake of breath when your eyes met. “All yours.” Using one hand, he pulled the stool out for you as Ginger’s message started to scroll across his field of vision.

You muttered a thank you as you chewed your lower lip. “You didn’t have to-”

Well done Agent Whiskey. The tracker is live and we are following its movement. Which location did you select?

“Now darlin’, what kind of gentleman would I be if I only did what I had to do?” He smiled, covertly answering Ginger’s question.

Not sure yet. Stay tuned.

You let out a sound that was almost a laugh, shrugging. “You’d be like most gentlemen I’ve known, I guess.”

Agent, we need to know-

Jack brought his hand up and tapped the side of his glasses, closing the communication screen and letting Ginger’s message go unfinished. It wasn’t the first time he’d done it and it wouldn’t be the last. He always eventually got back to her and never made her wait too long. But his focus had been drawn to you all afternoon, and now that you were sitting directly beside him, he wasn’t going to rush the interaction he’d been putting off for hours.

“Then allow me to introduce to you a different kind.” He reached up and swept his hat from his head, laying it on the bartop, and extended his free hand to you. “Jack Daniels.”

– – –

15 Minutes Earlier…

You checked your watch with a sigh, noting that you still had a little under an hour before you’d be called for boarding.

It’s fine. That means I can start another chapter now. You rolled your eyes. I’ll need a new book for the flight home at this rate, though.

It was one of those flights that didn’t make sense - with a 4 hour layover in a city that was completely out of the way of your destination. But that was why you’d been able to find tickets for only $48 each way, less than three days out. Things at work had been hectic, and you weren’t sure if you were going to be able to get the time off until the very last minute. So even though it certainly wouldn’t have been your first choice if you’d been able to book it months ago when the trip was first brought up, you were perfectly content to take the unnecessary stopover in Louisville on your way to Las Vegas.

Doesn’t hurt when the people watching prospects are this interesting, either.

You glanced over at the nearby bar and the astoundingly attractive man seated there who’d snagged your attention as soon as he arrived. He, like a handful of others in the terminal, wore a dark felted Stetson But unlike most, it suited him. As did his perfectly tailored suit and-

Oh, fuck, he’s wearing glasses now. And they look damn good on him, too.

You cleared your throat and forced your thoughts back to your trip and your reason for taking the less than desirable layover. Even though it meant spending hours alone in an airport, you were excited, because it also meant being able to see several of your friends who lived far away, and being able to celebrate your birthday with them. Well, not just your birthday. The trip was meant to be a group celebration to make up for the fact that you hadn’t all been able to get together for a birthday in years. Since there happened to be two of you who had birthdays in January, that was the month that was chosen. But the dates that were settled on had included your actual birthday smack dab in the middle of them, and you were looking forward to having something fun to do with people you missed.

Which was why you groaned as you read the notification that popped up on your phone regarding the flight status.

Delayed - Mechanical Issues

“Fuck.” You muttered under your breath, closing the airline app and tapping your phone screen to open the group chat so you could fill the others in on your situation. Before you finished typing though, your phone vibrated in your hand and a picture popped up of two of your friends - Jess and Maddy - both wearing ear to ear smiles at Harry Reid International, the text from Jess simply reading two words followed by several exclamation marks: We’re here!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Kayla chimed in next, responding with an emphatic YAY! and sending a screenshot of her GPS, showing that she was just under 2 hours out. Be there so soon!

Nat still had her phone on airplane mode since she’d only taken off from LAX about an hour earlier, so you didn’t bother waiting for an update from her before you finished typing your own.

Bad news, my flight out of Louisville is delayed. :( Mechanical issues… No idea when I’ll be there now, but I’ll keep you all posted.

You sent the message and tucked your phone into the outer pocket of your bag as disappointment set in. As it was, the rest of your friends were already supposed to arrive half a day before you. But now, it was looking like you were going to miss out on the entire first day of the trip.

Or more.

Frowning at the thought, you tried not to let yourself get too upset until you had a better idea of your situation. You told yourself that it could be something quick and easy to remedy - maybe you’d only have to wait one more hour. Maybe less. Either way, you decided that since half of the group was already there, it meant that the vacation had unofficially started, and it was time you treated yourself to a drink.

And if I know Jess and Maddy, they’re doing the same right now.

You picked up your bag, slinging the strap over your shoulder, and headed towards the bar. It was moderately crowded, only a few stools left vacant scattered here and between other travelers. But as you got closer you noticed that the man you’d caught yourself spending more time watching than any of the others was still seated there - and that the seat beside him had just become empty.

Perfect timing.

That confidence lasted only until the man spun at the sound of your voice, and seeing him up close had nearly knocked the breath from your lungs.

Oh, shit. He’s-

By the time he’d given you his name along with his hand to shake, you’d noticed things about him that you hadn’t from across the room. Like the flecks of tan and gold that lightened his dark brown eyes, the distinct bow of his upper lip beneath his mustache and how it rested against the plush pillow of the lower one, the way you couldn’t see a stitch of leather on him aside from his boots, but the smell of it - along with bergamot - clung to him and made him even more appealing.

You swallowed, his warm hand wrapping around yours and squeezing as you managed to tell him your name. “It’s nice to meet you, Jack.”

Without letting go of your hand or releasing your eyes from the lock his own had on them, he repeated your name back to you, the sound of it making your face grow warm. “Pleasure’s all mine, I promise you.”

When he winked as he withdrew his hand, you knew you were screwed. You ordered yourself a drink - something local, a bourbon you’d not seen before called Statesman - and Jack, though approving of your choice, simply asked for a glass of water. As you brought the glass to your lips, another thought popped into your head.

But am I really screwed, though? Because… he seems just as interested as I am.

Over the next half hour, you and Jack made small talk and subtly flirted in smirks and glances. You asked him what brought him to the airport that day, to which he’d answered:

“Had some business here earlier. But that’s done, so the rest of my evening is completely free.”

You shook your head at that, taking another sip of your drink. Damn that’s good. “Don’t you have a flight to catch?”

At that, he grinned and spread his large hands wide. “Ah, well, that is one of the perks of being my own pilot.” He raised one eyebrow and leaned towards you. “I can leave whenever I choose.”

Okay, I wasn’t expecting that. That definitely makes him even more attractive somehow, though.

You mouthed the word wow and let out a stunted laugh as you reached into your bag to retrieve your phone. Some time had passed and you were hoping that there would be another notification about the status of your delayed flight. “That must be nice.” You groaned as you saw that there was nothing new from the airline, and several texts from your friends expressing their dismay over your travel woes. Shaking the phone in your hand, you sighed. “I’m here on a layover that got delayed and the rest of my friends are already in Vegas.” Looking over at him, you wet your lips with your tongue. “I’d love to be able to just… hop in and take off whenever I wanted to.”

– – –

Well, shit. Did she just say Vegas?

Clearing his throat, Jack reached up to tap the arm of his glasses. Several missed messages came through at once, all from Ginger, but he blinked them away as he spoke. “Well, I know we’ve only just met, and I’m not trying to make any suggestions-” Though I could. “- But I happen to be going to Sin City myself tonight.” He had to contain his grin at the flash in your eyes as he used the nickname for the gambling town. “I’d be more than happy to take you with me.”

Destination selected. Las Vegas, Nevada, USA.

You sucked in a breath at his proposition, and though he knew you were likely considering saying no, he hoped you’d say yes. “I… Jack, I couldn’t ask you to-”

“You’re not. I’m askin’. I’ll show you my license and everything to prove that I’m legit, but darlin’, I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t want to.” He tilted his head towards the window. “No tellin’ how long they’ll need to fix that bird, and if your friends are already there…” He trailed off and shrugged, returning his gaze to you. “My jet is fully fueled and ready to go. I could get you there so you don’t have to miss out too much. More than you already have, I mean.”

He could practically hear Ginger’s reply when it came through, but he fought the urge to let out a snort as he read it.

IT’S ABOUT TIME, AGENT. Make sure your friend buckles up. We’ll contact you when you can return to HQ.

You bit your lower lip again, and he couldn’t help but watch the way your teeth dug into your flesh. “I…” He saw the rest of your protest dissolve the same way the tracker had earlier, your eyes shifting from skeptical to excited until that’s all he saw in them. You laughed, then, lifting your hand and holding up one finger. “Alright. I’ll… yes. I’ll take you up on it. But on one condition.”

Received. Will await contact. Over.

Jack reached up to tap his glasses before removing them and stowing them in his pocket. He leaned in closer to you, concentrating on the quirk of your lips and the mixture of impulse and instinct in your eyes. “Let’s hear it.”

“You let me buy you a drink once we get there.” You said it over the rim of your glass as you finished the last of it, eyes on him as you swallowed.

An excuse to go out with a beautiful woman? That’s the condition?

Jack flashed you a smile. “I think those terms are more than agreeable, ma’am.”

– – –

What the fuck am I doing?

You half laughed at yourself, but at the same time there was something about Jack that made you feel like you could trust him. You were aware that that could be a danger in and of itself, but your gut told you he was a good man, and you had always felt that you were a good and accurate judge of character.

How’s it any different from meeting a guy and getting in his car with him? It’s not, really.

It was, and you knew it was, but you hadn’t been wrong yet. And as much as you wanted to get to Vegas to see your friends, you also found yourself wanting more time to get to know Jack. He was offering you the chance to do both of those things, and even though you were looking for one, you couldn’t find a downside.

Pulling out your phone, you opened the group chat and sent one text before switching it to airplane mode.

Change of plans. Met a (really good looking) pilot who was on his way to Vegas and offered me a ride. Sending a screenshot of his license number in case I go missing hahaha. Just kidding. I’ll be fine. See you soon!

You knew what they’d say when they saw your message.

Jess would likely just send a thumbs up - or possibly a photo of herself giving a thumbs up.

Maddy would emphasize your message and respond with something like Okay but don’t die!

Kayla’s message would be a more whimsical reaction like Jesus take the wheel! (Wait do planes have wheels?) or Life is short, take rides from hot pilots when you can with the peace sign emoji.

And Nat would send advice from several documentaries and podcasts she’d seen or listened to, about what to do if you were being abducted.

You laughed to yourself again at the entire situation.

“Alright, Jack.” You hopped down from your stool and picked up your bag. “I’m ready when you are.”

He stood, taking his hat from the bartop and placing it on his head. “No time like the present.” Running his hands over his clothes, he smoothed out his suit jacket. “Follow me, darlin’. And give me that.” He pointed his chin towards your bag. “I’m a gentleman, remember? Where would my manners be if I let a lady carry her own bags?”

You shook your head with a smile and handed over your carry-on, leaving you with only your purse. “I don’t know. You’re teaching me about gentlemen, remember?”

You knew when you saw his eyes darken that you’d made the right call.

“Oh, sugar. I remember. Few hours to Vegas. Plenty of time for me to teach you things.” With that he started walking and you were left to follow, slightly stunned at the implications in his tone and in his words.

This is definitely going to be a trip to remember, that’s for sure.

Thank you for reading! If you would like to be added to or removed from the taglist, please feel free to let me know by sending a message or filling out the form on my masterlist! :)

tags: @something-tofightfor @dihra-vesa @littlemisspascal @mishasminion360 @nyctophiliiiiaaa @practicalghost @tanzthompson @harriedandharassed @woodlandmouth @trickstersp8 @imtryingmybeskar @wildmoonflower @mswarriorbabe80 @theredwritingwitch @silverstarsandsuns @competentpotato @pedro-pedrito-pascalito @jedi-in-crocs @hannahkatharine @novemberrain221 @chiyo13 @myloveistoolittle @Noisynightmarepoetry

#HAPPY BIRTHDAY RACHAEL!#pretend this was on time #jack daniels x reader #jack whiskey daniels x female reader #jack daniels x female reader #pedrostories #jack whiskey daniels fic #kingsman the golden circle #jack daniels x you #agent whiskey x female reader #pedro pascal character #agent whiskey fic #jack daniels fic #it's cowboy times

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thewormformerlyknownasletojrjr · 1 year

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Sometimes self care is rewatching Dune (2021) and going on and on about ‘the symbolism of this or that’ or how ‘something here is a nod to the sequels’ or ‘look how the casting characterizes the house atreides’ or ‘the music here is phenomenal, it foreshadows gurney’s fate later on’ or ‘I think the difference in the vocalizing in the soundtrack here is deliberate’ until whoever you’re watching it with is ready to commit murder to shut you up.

But it’s just so phenomenal that you can watch it and catch new things each time, the visual and auditory storytelling in the background gives you so much! All these little things that go unnoticed until you see and want to jump out of your seat at them, let’s talk about that.

Let’s talk about how Jessica is always hooded when her scenes are associated with her Bene Gesserit powers and upbringing, how you can literally watch her out her hood down or up mid scene as she transitions from mother and concubine to an obedient disciple, how it foreshadows her struggle in the books all the way through Children of Dune.

Let’s talk about how well done the foreshadowing of the jihad is, how even this early on we can see the start of what is integral to Paul’s conflict in Messiah, how that feeling of helplessness about a destiny he doesn’t want will keep him frozen and unable to stop what’s in motion, how Messiah is such an incredible book because it ties into the dystopian trope wherein revolutionaries become like those they once revolted against, but how it’s so much more fascinating than some of the ways we see it in modern dystopias, because it’s the main characters who are following the pattern, not just watching in horror as those they fought with change for the worse, but actually experiencing it, horrified at what they’ve done and what they will continue to do, frozen and so unable or unwilling to do what needs to be done to stop it, how the movie is still in the stage where they are noble and valiant, but it makes sure to show the dread of what it coming, how it does such a good job of showing the burden of foresight that is so integral to Dune, the way that even as they see the future and can attempt to change it, they know that no matter their decisions, horrible things will come, how it shows Paul as scared hating the power he was given and blaming his mother and her aspirations, how the atreides family never wanted to be great, they wanted to be good, how Paul is coming to see that great and good cannot always coexist, how you look at this boy and you can genuinely see how he will become the man saying ‘Believers, all of them’ how Dune is such a hard story to get right because you watch someone devolve and stand by why horrible things are done without seeing him as a terrible person from the start, without the boy and the man seeming irreconcilable from one another, how the movie actually is on the right track even though the end result is unpalatable to the majority of society, how they are showing the white savior trope in a way that is thus far complaint with how it is deconstructed later on, how they have the epic notes of the beginning without going in a direction that makes the ending impossible.

Let’s talk about how they cast the Atreides family as beautiful people, but not soft, not tamed to modern standards, aristocratic in their looks in such a way that you believe they have been nobility for centuries, maybe millennia, slightly untouchable, dangerous, like those in power during the Italian Renaissance, how Paul looks young but also ethereal and formal, the balance between boy and duke and messiah in his appearance, how Leto’s hair and beard make him not only regal but worn by politics, cold and formal yet fatherly all at once, how Jessica’s ghostly pale complexion nods to her Harkonnen ancestry in the books and how she is beautiful in a way that seems not entirely human, how the other members of the Atreides house are each unique and full of character, not designed to fit a palette or aesthetic, whereas the Harkonnens have an eerie similarity that shows how little they value free will, how the Harkonnens are not dramatized to emphasize their characterization but rather understated, devoid of emotion save for rare explosive moments, how they echoed this in their design, making them blank slates, taking away rather than adding, leaving them almost human, but not quite, enough to trigger that ancient animal instinct in a person that says ‘something is wrong here, something is dangerous’ rather than making them fit in with the conventions of a time period or trend as to how to look evil.

Let’s talk about the soundtrack, how the epic music playing when House Atreides lands on Arrakis is echoed as Gurney and his men charge at the Harkonnens who so greatly outnumber them, how this not only ties you emotionally to the battle, hearing this dying cry of the Atreides, more so than the music continuing to be dark and foreboding through it all, but also how it foreshadows the survival of Gurney and the small group of men with him, living to reunite with Paul later on.

Let’s talk about how throughout the soundtrack we have women vocalizing, the emphasis on the power of the Bene Gesserit and how in Leto’s death scene we diverge from this trend, how he was so powerless against all these grand plans but he still took a stand, still ended things on his own terms.

Let’s talk about how Jessica doesn’t answer when Leto asks her to protect Paul as a Bene Gesserit. Let’s talk about the bull and the matador, the symbolism there. Let’s talk about the emphasis on medieval and renaissance headdresses on the Bene Gesserit, the significance of choosing attire from a time when the Catholic Church was in the peak of its power. Let’s talk about the nods to Gurney’s music. Just, look at all this stuff in the movie that you barely even notice, the first time. All the planning that went into it, how to fit in all these little nods, how to stay true to who the characters are in the present while also beginning to show who they will become. Let’s talk about it.

Though maybe not to the people I was watching the movie with. I don’t actually have a death wish.

#dune #dune frank herbert #paul atreides #children of dune #dune messiah #lady jessica #leto atreides #dune 2021 #visual storytelling #soundtracks #movie appreciation #wow this got long #that part in messiah when he says ‘believers’ hits me like a punch in the gut

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bts-eunji · 7 months

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Eunji x BTS

“they are my everything. the last ten years of my life have been filled solely with them and there is no one else I would’ve wanted to spend that time with.”

🧡🤎🧡🤎🧡🤎🧡🤎🧡🤎🧡🤎

#JOONJI – Gwan Eunji & Kim Namjoon

“Namjoon is the Tom to my Jerry. It is so much fun to tease him! I don’t understand why the Maknaes don’t do it more often. I am pretty sure he was close to kicking me out of the group a couple times already though. That might be the reason.”

contact name: Tom to my Jerry 🐈‍⬛

Namjoon and Eunji are the typical Tom and Jerry Duo. With Namjoon and Eunji being two of the OG Members that had stayed through the multiple line-up changes pre-debut, they had gotten used to one another even before debut. They had met in early 2010 after they both got signed under BigHit Entertainment and Eunji was added to the line-up of BTS in mid-2010. Her and Namjoon got closer after an awkward encounter, where Eunji was crying in a practice room. Although their first interaction was awkward, their future was filled with playful banter and care. The two became almost inseparable. It took Namjoon a while to get used to Eunji. Her teasing and flirty yet responsible attitude confused the shit out of him. But when he did get used to her, he learned to be thankful for her presence. Eunji is somewhat a comedic relief to Namjoon. Whenever she teases him, he will act all annoyed and complain but secretly he enjoys it. It made the years that followed their debut less difficult. Her flirting helps his confidence and reassures him that he is worthy because in the end, it’s just compliments hidden in flirty pick-up lines.

But there is also the responsible and calming part of Eunji, that never fails to ground Namjoon. Even before debut, she managed to read him like an open book. She would know of his struggles, sometimes even before himself. Even more surprisingly, she knew how to help him when he had no clue. The responsibility of being the leader got too heavy? She takes on some of his duties. Managing the group part time. Assisting him in holding the weight. His thoughts spiral into overthinking everything he does? She sits him down with some tea and watches Friends with him. Teasing or reassuring him and making him laugh. He spends hours in the studio without breaks and works himself into the ground? She knocks and sits down next to him. She assists him with his work till she decides it’s enough, stopping him from overworking himself.

But don’t worry, he is just as important to her. His leadership has always been cherished deeply by Eunji. The way he knows what the group needs, sometimes without the group having to say anything, is fascinating to her. His communication skills never fail to impress her. Whether it is public speaking or managing conflict inside the group, he always knows what to say. “You’re like Captain America. You know? Because of the motivational speeches and stuff.”-Eunji 2019. On a more personal note, that also means he knows exactly what she needs. Positive Affirmation. His love language towards his members has always been Words of Affirmation and Eunji loves it. He compliments her looks before every public appearance. When monitoring a performance, he makes sure she knows how well she did. During music video shoots or photoshoots, he always watches her and lets her know that she is doing well.

They have known each other for 13 years now (2023). Eunji has said before that nothing has every really changed between them. She still teases him endlessly and loves flirting with him. And despite him gaining confidence and teasing back occasionally or even flirting with her too, he still gets annoyed or shy. This duo is often described as the old married couple of BTS. They are probably one of Eunji’s biggest ships and one of the most popular in the entire group. And after seeing their interactions it is easy to tell why.

special moment: (TW: small fire, small cut, spiraling thoughts)

Joonji is famous for a friendship full of duality. One second they’re bickering the next their flirting and then suddenly it’s time for a deep talk at 3 a.m. Therefore, they have very different moments and I assure you that Armys have done a fantastic job putting all of them into ship videos, but that is a different topic.

Kpop Interviews are crazy. Memes are born within seconds, grown up men and women play games that no one understands and exposing each other is on everyone’s To-Do-List. And right now, BTS is playing one of these ‘games that no one understands’. You have to spin in circles for 10 seconds and then you have to walk straight and do something. Eunji gets up and cracks her knuckles. “You will fail,” Namjoon throws in randomly and Eunji, who has gotten into position already, stands back up and glares at him in disbelief. “Honey, I thought at least you would have some hope in me,” she teases, and he rolls his eyes. She gets into position again, ready to spin. “If you pass out, I’m not going to catch you,” Namjoon mumbles once again, causing some of the boys to chuckle. Eunji scoffs. “Of course, you will,” she disagrees and begins to spin. It only takes the girl 6 seconds of spinning to fall sideways and as she had predicted Namjoon did catch her, groaning in the process. While the group is laughing hysterically she chuckles and pinches his cheek. “I don’t think I even have to say I told you so…but I told you so,” she teases and this time it is him who scoffs.

“I would call you an imbecile but that’d be cruel as you wouldn’t be able to spell it.” Namjoon sighs to himself, flipping the page of his book while sitting on the dorm couch. Eunji turns to him with a gasp and grabs her chest, right over her heart. “Oh god, you’ve insulted me! What ever shall I do? I’ll be scarred for the rest of my life!” She teases dramatically and pretends to faint against him. He groans at the sudden weight and grasps his book tighter. He rolls his eyes at her behavior. “You’ve had worse. You’ll live,” he mumbles under his breath, and she chuckles. Grabbing a pen, she scribbles something onto a paper and pushes it towards him. Upon seeing it he raises a brow and turns to her. “So, you DO know how to spell imbecile. I have to say, that amazes me. Good job,” he teases. She quickly slaps his arm and whispers in a hushed voice: “Don’t say that, people might think we are friends.” She looks around, pretending to be secret. I think you could tell already but Jimin and Jin were on the ground, dying from laughter the entire exchange.

The group is relaxing in the living room. Some are playing video games; others are reading and Eunji has just left to charge her phone. Suddenly, all lights go out and the TV goes black. “Huh?!” “What happened?” “Is this a power outage?” “NO! My score!” The boys erupt in yells. Seconds later Eunji bursts into the living room. “WE have a problem!” she announces. Namjoon sighs and sits up. “Let me guess, you caused it?” She huffs in response and then quickly collects herself. “Where is the fire extinguisher?” Now, that gets everyone’s attention. “WHAT?!” Turns out, Eunji’s charging cable was damaged and when she plugged it into the power outlet, it caused a short circuit which resulted in a power outage and a small fire. After successfully extinguishing the fire and getting the power working again, the boys help Eunji clean up the mess. Namjoon sighs. “You never cease to amaze me,” he mumbles and Eunji chuckles embarrassed from across the room.

The sound of something falling and a painful groan make Eunji look up from her painting. “What was that?” she screams into the dorm. “Nothing! Don’t worry about it!” Namjoon screams back. But before he even managed to finish his sentence, she is on her feet and rushing into the hallway. Upon reaching the hallway she stops at the sight in front of her. Namjoon had tried to put a painting of hers onto the wall but instead he had dropped it and was now clutching his hand. “If being clumsy was a currency, you’d be a bloody millionaire,” she complains and gently grips his hand. It seems like he had cut himself when the painting dropped. Pushing him down on couch, she searches for the first aid-kit she had bought for this purpose and this purpose only. While carefully bandaging his cut she chuckles. “You seriously need to be careful. As cute as it is, seeing you all lost and puppy eyed, I prefer you uninjured,” she mumbles with a teasing tone. He raises a brow. “You think I’m cute?” She scoffs. “Want me to whisper it into your ear? Dumbass.”

Namjoon’s head is resting on his hands, eyes focused on the computer screen that displays his newest song. His solo album is only going slowly so far, and his original enthusiasm has faded into frustration. Could he not even manage to produce something for himself? How could he make music for the group then? Pathetic. He feels useless. With an irritated huff he rips his headphones off and throws them onto his desk. Once again, his head falls into his hands. Fingers gripping his hair and pulling at it in a frustrated manner. Why can’t he do anything right? How did he even end up being a leader of a group? A group like BTS? Could he still lead the group? With his lack of management? A ridiculous thought. How can he manage others when he barely manages himself? Just in time, a soft knock rips him out of his spiraling thoughts. He quickly sits up and fixes his hair. “Come in!” he calls for the person knocking. When the door opens it reveals Eunji, a plastic bag in her hand and a gentle smile on her face. “Hey big guy. I thought I’d check how you were doing,” she greets him and closes the door quietly. Somehow, he feels relief wash over him. His Noona’s calmness immediately radiates onto him, and he can’t suppress the deep breath he releases when she sits down next to him. She calmly looks around, quietly taking note of the empty cups and scrabbled papers, before turning to him. “How are you getting along? Made some progress?” she asks and sets the bag onto the desk. He tenses and releases a shaky breath. Eunji notices. Of course, she does. When he doesn’t answer, she already knows he has been stuck. “Let’s eat. I brought your favorite.”

nicknames Army gave them: Parents, Old Married Couple, Tom & Jerry

love language: She is…

giving: quality time/acts of service receiving: quality time/words of affirmation joonji ‘thing’: museum visits & going on hikes

🤎🧡🤎🧡🤎🧡🤎🧡🤎🧡🤎🧡

#JINJI – Gwan Eunji & Kim Seokjin

“Jin is my best friend. We clicked fast, despite our weird first encounter and opposite personalities. I can be myself around him and he never fails to make me laugh. A lot of my confidence comes from what he taught me, so props to him.”

contact name: Worldwide Nuisance 👑

Jin and Eunji seem like they have nothing in common. Jin being his loud self, screaming and laughing like his life depends on it, meanwhile Eunji is soft-spoken and prefers painting with lo-fi music over a game night any time. Yet you would be fooled, because these two fit each other like Ying and Yang. They first met back in July 2011 and, as cliché as it sounds, clicked immediately. But that doesn’t mean their first meeting wasn’t odd – oh no, no – it was a very weird experience. She had been peacefully playing the guitar in one of the practice rooms when Jin burst into the room. He had said nothing, simply staring at her before sitting down next to her and urging her to play more. At first she was hesitant and skeptical but eventually they began to sing together while she played the guitar. It was weird – yes – but it was also somehow precious. From that moment on, Jin always waited for her in front of the building to walk to the practice room with her. They began to text daily and go on friendship dates together. When Jin eventually moved into the dorm, they started doing things like cooking together, doing each other’s skincare or simply watching stupid movies together just to make fun of them.

She also became his professional support and vocal teacher. Eunji was and is incredibly skilled in the field of music, but she had also been gifted the skill of teaching. Before even training at BigHit, she had practiced and done her own research on producing, songwriting and vocal training. With this in mind, she was his number one place to go when he was insecure in his voice. She would listen, let him rant and give constructive feedback. They would do vocal exercises together and actually have fun doing them. More often than not they would end up sitting on the couch, Eunji playing the guitar and Jin singing to it. And although Jin barely says it out loud, he is grateful for her support.

As the oldest of BTS and, at least in the beginning, the most unexperienced in the group, he struggled a lot. Especially hard were the first few years after debut. BTS didn’t have the best time in the industry and throughout their years in the business had almost disbanded, twice. Every member had a struggle of their own. Eunji, being the second oldest, recognized this and she took special care of her boys. Especially Jin was someone who she always made sure was doing alright, because he was the oldest after all and he showed his frustration about improving his vocals many times. Being the same age, it had always been easier for the two to openly talk about their feelings with each other.

Despite or maybe because of their deep bond, these two never fail to make each other and the group laugh. In front of the camera, Jinji are mostly in happy moods when together. They are cracking jokes, mostly Jin actually but hush, and laughing freely together. Jin can never hide his happiness when he makes Eunji laugh, and he will rub it under everyone’s noses that he did that. Yeah, he is proud of it, alright. Because in the end of the day, she helps him more than he could ever thank her for. Making her laugh is his repayment on most days. Or going on stupid wholesome friendship dates together. Going to different restaurants and posting about it on social media with goofy selcas. Doing a Vlog in which they go shopping and make a silly fashion show out of it. Spending late nights in Eunji’s room, gossiping about people they don’t like and the newest tea. Visiting clubs together, only to go live after and have a bit of a tipsy livestream. ‘Jinji being drunk on livestream’ videos incoming.

In summary, Jin and Eunji are the definition of best friends.

special moment: (TW: mentions of alcohol & drinking)

Jin and Eunji are icons when they are separated but once you put them together they reach a new type of iconic. They never cared for the company rules, at least not when they thought they were stupid.

One night they went partying. Eunji and Jin go out together a lot to dance and drink a bit. So, that is what they did. That day Jin had asked Eunji to come with him and she did. After coming home, slightly tipsy, they had the glorious idea to start a livestream. And this livestream would go down in history.

“Heyy Army! How are you?” Eunji greets and giggles right after. They begin to talk and chat. Mostly Eunji and Jin having highly interesting conversations in a tipsy manner. Eventually they start to drink wine as well. “Guys, this – this isn’t wine. It’s grape juice,” Jin tries to convince but fails. Eunji laughs out. “Oh no, this is definitely wine.”

“Why did you drink?” Eunji reads out a comment while Jin is rummaging through some bags. “Oh, we just felt like it. Jin had asked me to come and so I did.” She turns towards Jin with a annoyed sigh at the rustling. “What are you doing?” It stays quiet for a while before Jin answers: “We have a problem.”

Eunji heaves a deep sigh. “Gimme a sec, I am not drunk enough to listen to this yet,” she mumbles, grabs the open wine bottle, and chucks a few big gulps. Turning back towards Jin she nods. “Okay, what’s the problem?” He looks at her and then at the camera. “We have another bottle of wine.” She chuckles. “You call it a problem. I call it a solution!”

“Are you fully drunk?” Jin reads out a comment and giggles. “I might’ve had a few shots,” he states and giggles even more. Meanwhile Eunji turns away from him and rummages through a paper bag. “I think I need food.”

As time passes and the second bottle of wine empties, they get a bit more incoherent. Jin drops his head on Eunji’s shoulder and mumbles something. Eunji, half-closed eyes from tiredness, looks down to him. “You are drunk,” she states the obvious. Jin looks up at her and tilts his head. “Yer beautiful.” This makes Eunji burst into a laugh. “Damn, you’re really drunk.”

“Why did you convince me to go there? The music was horrible!” Eunji talks about the party from earlier. Jin mumbles something before it goes silent. After a longer pause Jin whines and turns to her. “Oh, come on. I couldn’t go there alone!” he states in a whiny voice and Eunji giggles. “You’re right! Always need your big strong sister around!” she jokes and flexes arms. Jin slaps her arm and giggles. “Of course!”

Eventually the mood quiets down and the two end up laying on the bed. Jin is curled up against Eunji and the phone has been set up on the bed. “Sing me a song, please?” Jin asks. Eunji stays quiet for a while before humming to Spring Day. She whisper-sings the lyrics and eventually Jin falls asleep. “Okay Army, I’ll turn this off now. Thanks for watching!” she says her goodbye and turns the livestream off. But this livestream will remain in history. Jinji drunk on Vlive. A wild ride for sure.

nicknames Army gave them: Besties, Parents

love language: She is…

giving: acts of service/words of affirmation receiving: acts of service/quality time jinji ‘thing’: taking goofy selcas & friendship dates

🧡🤎🧡🤎🧡🤎🧡🤎🧡🤎🧡🤎

#YOOJI – Gwan Eunji & Min Yoongi

“Yoongi. Ah, yeah, my grumpy cat. Yoongi holds a special place in my heart. It took a while for us to get close, but I loved the process of learning about the mysterious producer everyone was talking about.” “Ah, shut up.” “Okay, okay. But for real, I’m sure I will never stop learning new things about Yoongi and I hope we will never lose each other.”

contact name: Grumpy Kitten 🐈‍⬛

Yoongi and Eunji – oh dear. Where do I begin? When Yoongi and Eunji first met, they didn’t really get along. It wasn’t like they disliked each other, they just seemed to have a difficult time interacting. To their defense, it was 2010 and they were barely 18 and 17 years old. Their confusing lack of interactions was later, in 2023, explained in one of Suga’s Suchwita Episodes. Yoongi admits he felt intimidated by the reputation that surrounded Eunji. She felt like this myth, unreachable and unapproachable. Funny enough, Eunji said she always wanted to talk to him, but he seemed shy and uncomfortable around her, so she stopped. Yooji’s pre-debut history is long and, in some ways, romantic. You could say it’s almost a love trope.

For example, he called her after his accident. She was the first person to know about his accident and for the longest time she also was the only one. That was odd for two reasons: 1) Yoongi and Eunji barely knew each other back then and 2) she was convinced he hated her. In the same Suchwita episode, Yoongi had tried to explain his decision back then. ‘It just felt right. Maybe because I saw you be so caring towards the others.’-Yoongi 2023. After Bangtan shifted from a hip-hop rap group to an idol group, things changed unexpectedly for both of them. Neither of them had intended to become idols and they weren’t prepared for it either. With no experiences in dance, they were quite literally lost. And, believe it or not, they started to bond over this fact. Often, they stayed behind to fix up mistakes they had made in choreos or just practiced their dancing.

Only after debut did they actually start to grow closer. In the beginning that solely came from the fact that Eunji took care of his shoulder pain by softly massaging ointment on it or helping him carry things. She did it subtly, not wanting to attract the boys’ attention until Yoongi wanted to tell them. Through his injury they began to talk, mostly to break the awkward silence that filled the room whenever Eunji would take care of his shoulder. They discovered their shared interest in composing music and spending time in the studio. And so, they began spending this time together. Producing and writing song after song.

Yooji is, in many ways, special. They have more in common than most people believed upon seeing them for the first time. They both have a resting bitch face, which makes them look intimidating or unapproachable. They both have some sad if not tragic history. They share hobbies such as producing and song writing. And so much more. Getting to know each other over the years they grew closer, both metaphorically and literally. Whether it is holding hands, hair ruffles or even cheek kisses, Yooji has it all. Although Eunji initiates most of the physical touch, Yoongi accepts it. Eunji is sure he secretly enjoys it too. This could literally be a Sunshine x Grumpy story.

But besides that, these two have a wholesome friendship. Spending so much time in the studio together they learned a lot of things from each other regarding their music and personal life. They began to rely on one another. So much so, that they actively miss the other when they can’t be around. You could almost say they are each other’s therapist or comfort zone. They can sit next to each other, working on music and saying nothing for hours without it being uncomfortable. Together, they even have a regular livestream that they do often, working on music and chatting with fans. Yooji appreciate each other greatly and, although it isn’t always obvious, care for one another deeply.

special moment:

Yooji is one of Eunji’s biggest ships for a reason. These two are incredibly close and it is noticeable in most on and off screen situations. There is especially one livestream that got stuck in Armys’ mind.

Every once in a while Yoongi and Eunji do livestreams together, where they would produce and write new songs. They’d wear headphones to not spoil much or anything at all. Usually, these livestreams were more on the quiet and relaxing, almost ASMR, side of Vlives. The two would work together quietly and occasionally have a convo about changing things or producing choices.

This livestream was going just like that. Yoongi was wearing headphones, trying to write the missing lines to his beat. Eunji was working on the computer, working on an old beat that she was now planning to use. She occasionally glanced at the chat. “For what will these songs be?” She reads out a comment and shrugs. She grins at the camera and looks back at her computer screen. “I don’t know. Maybe for the next comeback or a solo project or a different artist. We’ll see,” she responds and types something on the computer.

Suddenly Yoongi sighs deeply, sliding off his headphones. Eunji looks at him, brows furrowed. “What’s wrong?” she asks and gently turns towards him. He groans and pushes his sheet over to her. “I don’t know how to continue,” he admits and takes off his headphones to offer them to her. She takes them while reading over his writing. While she begins to listen and write some things down, he turns to read comments.

“How often do you do this?” he reads a comment. He combs his hand through his hair as he looks into the camera. “Almost every day. The livestreams are weekly, mosty,” he answers with a sheepish shrug at the end.

“Aren’t you the genius? If you don’t know, then she could never,” he reads out and a deep frown settles onto his face. For a moment he stays quiet, staring into the camera. There is a clear frustration displayed on his face, but he seems to be looking for the right words.

Eventually he asks: “You actually believe that?” It stays quiet once again, but his eyes stay on the camera. It is like he is directly looking at the commenter or at least he is trying to. Eunji suddenly murmurs something and scribbles onto the paper. This catches Yoongi’s attention, and he tears his eyes away from the camera to look at her. His face relaxes quickly as he watches her write things down and move her head to his beat.

A smile creeps onto his face. After she mumbles something else he turns back to the camera, eyes growing sharper once again. “She has the words that I don’t. She is the real genius in this room,” he continues his answers.

Apparently somebody comments something else about this that enrages him. “Oh, come on! Shut –“ he catches himself and glances at Eunji. His eyes stare back at the camera with new determination. “Shut it. Keep those stupid thoughts to yourself.”

“I think I got it!” she suddenly calls out and slides the headphones off. She pushes his sheet to him and taps the table in the right rhythm. She looks at him and smiles. “Does that fit?” she asks his opinion. He smiles and nods. While glaring at the camera he answers: “It’s perfect, Ji.”

This livestream is found in every Yooji Ship video, and no one can deny how wholesome his response to the inappropriate comments was. It does show Yooji’s relationship in a new light, that is rarely seen by fans.

nicknames Army gave them: Soulmates, Comfort Zone, Therapists, Orange Cat x Black Cat

love language: She is…

giving: quality time/physical touch receiving: quality time/acts of service yooji ‘thing’: spending time in the studio & nonverbal communication

🤎🧡🤎🧡🤎🧡🤎🧡🤎🧡🤎🧡

#HOJI – Gwan Eunji & Jung Hoseok

“Hobi is an angel. He never fails to cheer me up and I am grateful for his presence. He helps me relax whenever we’re together.”

contact name: Sunshine 🌻🌞

Hoseok and Eunji are opposite twins. They met when Hoseok joined in December 2010, but they didn’t become friends right away. They got along just fine but they didn’t start to become friends until the end of 2011. Their pre-debut history isn’t as complicated or interesting as Joonji’s or Yooji’s. They just started hanging out because the group was being formed and they had to spend a lot of time with each other. They are described as opposite twins, because although they are alike, they also are opposites. With Hobi being – well Hobi – and Eunji being more centered and coolheaded, they have been described as the sun and the moon. Eunji’s personal favorite nickname is ‘Sunshine & Moonlight Twins’. It fits them and sounds beautiful in her opinion.

Hoseok for Eunji is like a light in the darkness. Sounds cheesy, I know, but he embodies that freshness and rescue for her. Eunji often gets in her head and when her thoughts spiral there is no stopping it. Hobi knows this. He can almost read her mind when it happens and although he can’t stop the spiral either, he is able to distract her from it. He is incredibly good at reassuring her and taking her mind off of things. Eunji is fascinated every time because he always seems to know exactly what to say. He can calm her nerves with his mere existence and his words never fail to settle her doubts. He is her light at the end of the tunnel.

Hoseok knows how important he is to Eunji. Of course, he does. To him, Eunji is the responsible older sister, that puts others above herself. He always wants to give her love and care, making sure she is alright and healthy. She is the group’s therapist in many ways, and she is also his. Being seen as the ‘sunshine of the group’ is never an easy thing. Hobi felt like he had to smile no matter how he felt and that he always had to look happy. Eunji, being the mother-natured person she is, always led him drop the mask and feel his emotions without covering them. Therefore, it came naturally to him that he would be there for her too. Although their friendship is mainly laughter and happiness, they can talk about their feelings freely and show them to each other as well. Which is probably the reason they function so well.

special moment: (TW: Sickness, Symptoms of a Cold, mentions of weight)

Hoji are a wholesome duo. They are often funny and bright, especially when together and in front of the camera. But they are also incredibly perceptive.

Hobi was having a horrible day. He hadn’t slept well and had woken up with a headache. He had practiced dancing the night before and it had left him with a load of insecurities. He felt as though he was to uncoordinated, his dancing felt sluggish, and he worried he was losing his charm. But he also worried about his weight gain over the last month and had grown increasingly anxious about losing weight. So, his last day ended badly, and his new day began worse. Unfortunately, it was this exact day, that would be filmed almost entirely.

The day seemed to never pass by. Even the morning stretched endlessly in Hobi’s mind. As he sits down at the kitchen table, he has no appetite and feels quite drowsy. The group around him is too loud for his liking, despite him usually enjoying a cheerful atmosphere. Hobi hadn’t even noticed the camera man but when he did he desperately tried to fake a smile.

Suddenly there is a steaming cup of tea in front of him and a hand on his back. As he looks up he meets eyes with Eunji. “Hey, I made this for you. Have a sip, it should already be cool enough,” she encourages him. Hesitantly he takes a sip and lets the warm liquid soothe his sore throat. Goosebumps form on his skin and he sighs deeply. “I think you should wear something thicker, like a hoodie. You seem cold and the weather isn’t nice,” she explains. He nods, not fully registering what she is saying.

After the long morning the group makes their way to the company building. As he leaves the van to enter the company he shivers. Only then does he realize he must’ve forgotten to change into a hoodie before leaving. He almost bumps into the camera as he steps out of the vehicle.

The group is at the company for some recordings, to which the cameraman is supposed to follow them. Hobi is dreading it. He can barely talk without a rasp how is he supposed to rap clearly? As the group reaches the studio he sits down on the couch and sighs deeply. His head is still pounding and his body aches from the hard practice the day before.

As the time passes Hobi is more and more dizzy. He zones out a lot and he seems close to passing out. He shivers as well, a tell-tale sign that he is cold on the leather couch. There are mumbles surrounding him, but he doesn’t have the energy to lift his head.

Suddenly there is a hand on his knee. “Hobi? Hey, let me help you put this on,” Eunji’s voice echoes through his head and he manages to sit up right. The older girl smiles at him and helps him slide on a hoodie. “Jimin and I will take you home, alright?” she adds, and he frowns. “But the recording and the filming,” he rasps, surprised at his own voice. Eunji winces. “Yeah no, that isn’t happening today. Not for you anyways,” she answers.

As the two guide Hobi back to the dorm, without the camera, he grows increasingly less conscious. When he is finally in his bed Eunji begins to prepare a pot of tea alongside some other things like blankets, thick clothes, and calming music. She had decided to take Jimin home with her as well, because the younger seemed a little sick himself. So, she puts him in the other bed since he and Hobi share a room anyways.

Jimin is the first to fall asleep after Eunji helped both of them get settled in warm clothes and a fluffy blanket. She helps J-Hope drink some tea and sighs. “So, do you want to tell me why you practiced till three in the morning last night?” she asks and softly combs a hand through his hair. His surprise is expected by Eunji, she knew that he thought he was discreet. “How do you” – he interrupts himself and sighs – “I didn’t get the results I had wanted.” After his confession he takes another sip of tea. Eunji stays quiet for a moment, taking in his words and trying to make sense of them.

“This isn’t just about our new choreo, is it?” she asks and shifts closer to him. He hesitates. Unsure of what to say next or if he should say anything in the first place. Eunji doesn’t press, she simply continues to comb his hair. It takes minutes until Hobi answers. “It’s about my dancing. Or my body. Maybe it is both! Or simply none. I just think I’m losing the charm in my dancing and that would be horrible because it could ruin the groups image! I have gained so much weight recently and it all just burdens you and the guys and-”

This time Eunji interrupts him with a soft ‘Hey’. His rambling dies down and he locks eyes with her. She offers a reassuring smile. “Move over a little,” she asks him, and he complies. She shifts into the bed with him, letting him cuddle against her side and holding him. It stays quiet a little while Eunji searches for the right words. “It’s okay to be frustrated. You remember when I started my dance training, right?” she asks, and he can’t suppress the giggle that escapes him. Taking this as enough of an answer she chuckles and continues: “We all get frustrated with our work and our bodies somedays. But I assure you Hobi, your charm has not left you and your body looks as good as ever.”

Hobi stays quiet, cuddling into Eunji’s side. Eunji speaks up again, not quite sure her words have reached him yet. “I mean it Hobi. You are so talented, and I love watching you dance! There has never been any dancer like you in the industry and there will never be another!” She praises and he giggles but she squeezes him a bit. She is serious. “And you are so, so, so good looking! The fans keep on swooning over you and so do I! I constantly have to fight for my position as your number one fan! Just because you are so ridiculously talented and handsome!” she whines at the end. He slaps her arm and pouts. “Stop it! You’re making me blush!” he complains but laughs right after. “That means it’s working.” “Thank you.”

It grows quiet again. This time it is calmer. Hobi seems more relaxed in her arms, and she sighs. “Can you sing for me?” he suddenly asks. And who is Eunji to deny him this?

nicknames Army gave them: Sun & Moon, Sunshine & Moonlight Twins, Opposite Twins

love language: She is…

giving: words of affirmation/quality time receiving: physical touch/acts of service hoji ‘thing’: piggyback rides & calling each other in livestreams

🧡🤎🧡🤎🧡🤎🧡🤎🧡🤎🧡🤎

#EUNMIN – Gwan Eunji & Park Jimin

“Ah, Jiminie. He is a very supportive person, but he is also overly hard on himself. I wish he could see himself through my eyes once in a while. He is exactly how I imagined a younger brother would be. He is so cute. But he is possessive, I got to say.”

contact name: Jiminie 🐣

Jimin and Eunji have the typical sibling dynamic. Eunji is the big sister to the Maknae Line and therefore also to Jimin. Pre-debut, they had some trouble getting used to each other. Jimin was incredibly shy and hesitant around her. The fact that Yoongi and Eunji seemed to have a difficult relationship also made Jimin more uncertain. Eunji was honestly confused at first, thinking he doesn’t like her. But she figured out quite quickly that he was just so shy and unsure how to talk to her. She tried to make it easier for him by starting conversation first and trying her best to seem more approachable. It helped a litter and the two at least talked about work.

After debut the two began to get close. Jimin felt in awe about his Noona. She had so much patience with him and the other two Maknaes. She never pushed them to interact with her and he began to feel more comfortable around her. Eventually Jimin grew quite protective of Eunji and even got a little possessive over her. She thinks it’s adorable, really. But that doesn’t mean he can’t be taken seriously. He is, in fact, very serious when it comes to protecting his Noona. He always makes sure to be around her in public spaces, keeping his arm around her waist and staring anyone down who even dares come close. The group has made fun of his possessiveness many times and he always laughs but it doesn’t seem like he will stop any time soon. For him, Eunji is this caring older sister that he needs to keep safe. He wouldn’t want anything ever happening to her and he makes sure to let anyone know. It is his way of showing love towards her, because he and the Maknae-Line tease and prank her a lot.

Eunji loves Jimin. She genuinely thinks he is such a precious soul, and she wants to keep him in her pocket. While he functions as her bodyguard she is his therapist. She makes sure his soul and body are well taken care of. Reminding him to eat, forcing him to take breaks and reassuring him verbally. That’s her job. She is the mom of the group, and she lives up to that name. She is just as protective of him as he is of her, just in different ways. She isn’t the offence kind of fighter; she is more like the passive kind of healer. She protects him from himself. His thoughts and doubts, that spiral into physical exhaustion and personal torture. She knows because she has been there. And that is why this duo is so unique and popular. Mostly because you have protective Jiminie, but also because you have mother Eunji.

special moment: (TW: wrist injury, shooting, gunshots, gunshot wound)

Eunmin are popular for a couple of reasons. One is, as mentioned, the protectiveness (sometimes even possessiveness) from Jimin towards his Noona. Another one is the motherly care that Eunji displays towards Jimin (and the other two Maknaes).

These are noticeable in small things. Some moments are tiny, others are so big they even make it into headlines of news articles.

It is a Run BTS episode. The group was loudly discussing the results of a game and who had actually won now. Eunji wasn’t taking part in this discussion, preferring to sit silently and watch the drama. The loud screaming was bothering her, but she wouldn’t mention it. It was not a pressing issue to her. She leans forwards to grab her water bottle only to find it empty. She sighs. There are new bottles a few meters away, but she is practically caged in her seat due to the studio set up. “Can you give me the water?” she asks into the room, but the arguing drowns it out. She tries to reach and grab the new bottles, unsuccessfully. “Hey, can one of you give me a water bottle?” she asks again. No response, again. But then she meets eyes with Jimin. “Hey, quiet!” he suddenly raises his voice slightly and the group grow quiet. He looks at her, waiting for her to say what she tried to say. Eunji smiles and points to the water bottles. “Can you give me a bottle?” Jungkook, who stands closest to them, immediately offers it to her. She thanks him with a smile before turning to Jimin. He seemed satisfied and she throws him a quick grateful smile.

Jimin is known for having a interesting relationship with chairs and the ground. Whether it is falling from chairs, randomly laying on the ground, or even kicking himself off of chairs. He also has a strong tendency to slip on stage and he does so quite regularly. So, once again, while on stage it began to rain. “Oh, come on. We haven’t even finished the sound check yet,” Hobi whines and is joined by a grumpy Yoongi. “Can we sit down backstage and just do the sound check there?” But he is denied. Meanwhile, the Maknae-Line is clearly enjoying the new weather. They are moonwalking and dancing to songs that are related to rain while singing them. And Jimin decides to slide along the stage. Bad idea. The stage is so slippery that he loses his balance, crashes into Namjoon, and falls to the ground. Eunji, within a split second, is next to him. “Are you okay?” she asks, already pressing down on his ankles and legs to find injuries. “Yeah,” Jimin answers but doesn’t attempt to get up. Eunji frowns and takes his hands in hers, feeling his wrists. He flinches as she presses onto his left wrist. Her face softens. “You’re hurt. Come on, lets get you an ice pack,” she suggests and ushers him backstage.

After the group had come back from dance practice, Eunji had started a livestream in her room. She had decided to start a new painting and was doing this live. While having lo-fi music playing in the back she was humming and painting peacefully. After a while Jimin had joined her, quietly beginning to read comments. “He worked really hard in practice today, Army,” Eunji praises Jimin causing him to smirk and blush. “Have you eaten yet?” she asks him, eyes focusing on him now. He turns to her and nods. “Yeah. I just did, actually,” he answers truthfully. She nods, satisfied with that answer. It had been at least two hours since dance practice. “Good. You need the energy, especially after such tough practice,” she continues. Jimin stays quiet before turning to her once again. “Did you eat already?” he asks. Eunji pauses. “Ah, not yet,” she admits and turns to Jimin, who looks at her with a raised brow. “I am planning to after the livestream!” she defends herself and turns back to the canvas. Jimin turns to the phone, smiles, and waves. “See you soon Army. I will have to feed Noona!” “Ay!” With that the livestream was ended and Eunji posted later on: ‘Have been fed and well taken care off. Don’t worry Army <3’

Throughout 2016 it had gotten clear that Eunji was facing a lot more hate than the company could handle at the time. People were sued due to spreading false rumors or sending hateful messages and harassing Eunji. But even that didn’t stop them. Death threats weren’t noticed or dismissed because the company was overwhelmed with all the hate. By early 2017 it had gotten out of control. The group had just arrived back in Seoul, making their way through the relatively crowded airport. Jimin has his arm wrapped around her waist, as always, and talking with her about the upcoming days. “I really want to get a spa treatment, would you come with me?” he asks. The next six days would be free, and the group had individual plans for them. Eunji gasps. “Sure! I could need some good messages and facial treatments!” she agrees with a bright smile.

Suddenly a loud shot rings out, quickly followed by panicked screams. Before Jimin can even fully register what is happening he feels Eunji collapse against him. He panics, quickly rushing towards nearest wall for cover. He leans against it, watching as all of the people including his members, duck for cover. Then his eyes go to Eunji. “O-oh god! Oh no, no, no, no!” he whispers as he finds her with a bleeding wound on her shoulder. He quickly slides her down the wall and grabs her face. “Noona?!” he asks, panic evident in his shaking voice. To his utmost relief she opens her eyes and nods. “It’s alright. I’ll be alright,” she reassures, although the pain drives tears in her eyes. “Y-yeah you will be! Of course, you will be!” There are sirens in the back and Jimin fears the attacker might still be around. He turns to look at his members, Namjoon is the first who catches his eyes. “She has been shot!” Jimin whisper-yells. The following shock that etches onto his members faces must be reflecting his own. “I’m okay!” Eunji tries to reassure but it sounds weak. Jimin immediately turns his attention back to her.

“This will hurt. I’m sorry,” he apologizes before pressing down against the wound. A scream erupts from Eunji’s lips but then she tries to even her breaths. Jimin feels guilty and almost pulls back but she shakes her head at him. “It’s okay. You’re doing good,” she reassures him and smiles. The ten minutes it takes the ambulance to arrive at the longest ten minutes of Jimin’s life. Only once the doctor told him that she would be okay, did he take a breath of relief.

nicknames Army gave them: Eunji’s bodyguard, Child #1

love language: She is…

giving: Words of Affirmation/Acts of Service receiving: Physical Touch/Acts of Service eunmin ‘thing’: arm around waist & cheek kisses/squishes

🤎🧡🤎🧡🤎🧡🤎🧡🤎🧡🤎🧡

#TAEUN – Gwan Eunji & Kim Taehyung

“Tae is a lot like me. I see a lot from me in Tae. Maybe that is why we get along? It worries me sometimes. I hope he doesn’t forget about himself and that he can do with his life what he wants to. Because I forgot that at one point.”

contact name: Taedy Bear 🐻

Taehyung and Eunji have a sibling like relationship. The Maknae-Line x Eunji all give Sibling vibes but something about Taeun is interesting to see. Like Eunji said herself, they are very alike. They might not be twins but they do have personalities that could be siblings. As mentioned, the Maknae-Line was hesitant to approach Eunji pre-debut. Tae was 17 years old and this cheerful and smiley kid, but he was too shy to talk to girls or women. He reminds Eunji a lot of herself. And again, these two took a long time to get close and when they finally did, it was post-debut. They eventually began to talk more because Taehyung had found Eunji painting in the living room and got curious. He had sat next to her, surprising her and himself, and asked what she was doing. The two then sat there for a couple of hours, Eunji explaining and teaching Taehyung how to paint.

Taeun’s dynamic is a bit difficult to explain. They are the only duo in the group that actually could be siblings. They don’t just look alike but they also act similar. For every holiday she went with Tae to his family and his parents love Eunji like their own child. They also both went through experiences in their idol career that changed them drastically. For Eunji, it was her dating scandal and the tragedy that followed. For Tae, there might’ve not been a specific situation but the hate and pressure that he received over years. Two happy kids turning into broken adults. Tae reminds Eunji of herself because of this reason exactly. They went from smiley and happy to more reserved and calculated. And all Eunji wants is for Tae to be happy and healthy. Which she has stated often and clearly for everyone to understand.

He is also the perfect example of her ‘I don’t like skinship, but you are an exception’ mindset. She will let him seek physical touch from her. Whether it’s hugs, holding hands, kisses or cuddling. She will let him do it. She lets him hug her for sleep as well, which prompted him to come over to her bed a lot once he found out. He is also one of the first people she told about her parents and what happened. It was also Tae that went to visit her orphanage with her, when she went to donate the next Christmas. He is like her emotional support teddy (teady) bear.

special moment:

Taeun have many moments on camera that show the positive development of their friendship. Especially during long time shows like Run BTS. Most Armys have been introduced to shows like ‘In the Soop’ or ‘Bon Voyage’.

During Bon Voyage there is a situation, where Namjoon and Taehyung have to share a bed. Due to Taehyung’s subconscious affection while sleeping he hugs Namjoon. But the older doesn’t appreciate it and tells this to Taehyung the next morning.

Eunji, who heard the commotion, offers a solution. “I can switch with you, Namjoon,” she suggests as she enters the room. Her room is close by and has a single bed. Namjoon turns to her, face scrunched into a frown. “Are you sure? I thought you don’t like hugs,” he claims and glances at Taehyung. Eunji doesn’t hesitate and give him a determined nod. “I’m sure.”

After both Namjoon and Eunji have packed their bags and switched the rooms, Eunji sits down on the edge of the bed. She looks at Taehyung, whose face shows confusion and worry. “Don’t take his words personally. He finds physical intimacy too personal for friendships, we have to accept that,” she explains and quietly begins to unpack.

“You don’t have to sacrifice your privacy for me. I can take your room or the couch or something,” he tries to suggest and gets up from the bed. Eunji pauses her unpacking and turns to him again. “Ah come on, Tae,” she breathes out and for a moment the two just look at each other. Then she grins at him and adds: “Don’t be ridiculous. You just want the single bed, hm? Yeah, you thought.” This draws a surprised chuckle out of Taehyung, and he shakes his head amused.

In the evening, after successfully unpacking and spending the day together as group, Eunji is getting ready for bed. When she enters the bedroom she finds Tae, already in bed, laying as far on the edge as possible. She frowns, climbing into the bed and cuddling into the soft covers. “You don’t need to keep five feet away. I have nothing contagious,” she jokes, and he turns his head towards her. She smiles and waves him closer. Hesitantly he shifts more onto the bed.

She feels that he is still tense, even after she turns out the light and settles for sleep. His shoulder are tense, his breathing dangerously quiet and his back turned towards her. Cautiously she shifts closer. “Would you like me to hold you?” she asks in a whisper. His head snaps to her, eyes wide and full of shock. “W-what?! I-you don’t need to!” He answers quickly but Eunji tilts her head. “You didn’t answer my question,” she states calmly and smiles. He stays quiet, seemingly thinking about it. Until his hesitant eyes meet her determined ones. “Would you?” he whispers, barely audible. She chuckles. “Of course, dumbass. Why would I ask otherwise?” she responds and shifts even closer. “Can I?” she asks, and he nods way too quickly, which she finds adorable. She wraps her arms around his shoulders, and he shuffles to get comfortable. They end up with his arms wrapped around her waist, his head on her chest and her arms around his shoulders. She softly plays with his hair and hums a few melodies. It doesn’t take long until he is sound a sleep and she follows soon after.

Probably one of their biggest ship moments, not gonna lie.

nicknames Army gave them: Siblings, Mamma Bear & Baby Bear

love language: She is…

giving: physical touch/quality time receiving: physical touch/acts of service taeun ‘thing’: skincare routine together & hugs (while sleeping)

🧡🤎🧡🤎🧡🤎🧡🤎🧡🤎🧡🤎

#EUNKOOK – Gwan Eunji & Jeon Jungkook

“Jungkook is my baby. Big baby I should say. My boy has grown into a handsome man, has he not? With the tattoos and piercings, the long hair, and muscles. It’s hard to accept that he is an adult, but he is so mature, right? We should recognize him for it.”

contact name: Big Baby Bunny 💪🐇

Jungkook and Eunji pretty much have a mother and son relationship. Since Jungkook was so young when he debuted, Eunji wanted to make sure he was going to be okay. With that goal in mind, she and Jungkook went to his hometown where Eunji formally introduced herself to his family. She wanted to meet them in person, exchange phone numbers and maybe learn a bit about Jungkook to help him in the future. His parents loved her, obviously. They immediately felt at ease, knowing she will be looking over their boy. His mother cooked with Eunji and even gave her some family recipes. That pretty much shows how devoted Eunji is to make Jungkook feel comfortable. Especially because the Maknae-Line was keeping their distance pre-debut. What can I say, these two got close fast.

In the beginning she really babied him a lot. I mean, he was a baby. But to be fair, she actually became more of a mom. She taught him to do his own laundry, make doctor’s appointments, cook, and even drive. She also helped him study and do his homework. She did have to scold him sometimes, but she was always gentle and loving. And funnily enough, the fans have noticed. There are things that Jungkook does, that the fans realized comes from Eunji. Certain habits, manners, or sentences. He actively quotes her sometimes. Jungkook back than was sometimes annoyed by her, which she accepted and backed off. To which he would realize that she was a big help and come to ask for her again. She never took it personally. Due to her experiences with the orphanage children, she understood. She knew how to handle kids well and Jungkook was her kid now.

The older Jungkook got, the more independent did he become. At first it was hard for Eunji to grasp but she quickly adapted to him maturing. She probably is his biggest supporter and never wanted him to feel suffocated or too babied. So, when he eventually turned an adult and matured a lot, she let him and watched proudly. She can never help the proud smile when he accomplishes something or just whenever she sees him honestly. She brags about him a lot. ‘He grew up so well, didn’t he? Ah, such a gentleman.’ She loves Jungkook and knowing that he is an adult now, doesn’t change that. But she never takes credit for raising him. She is convinced he did most of it by himself.

For Jungkook Eunji has always been the big sister that took on his mother’s role when he left. He appreciates her a lot. More than he could ever say. Don’t get him wrong, the boys did an amazing job raising him. It was just different with Eunji. She just knew what to do in every situation. He got mad at her for caring ‘too much’? She stepped back and gave him space to think. Then he thought about it and realized she was a big help. So, in a way, she humbled him in the humblest way possible. By listening to what he said, even when it was obviously stupid. Despite being grown up now and being a big boy, he still seeks her comfort. He likes being babied once in a while, especially by her. Eunji complies, of course. Jungkook always gives huge credit to Eunji for the person he is today.

Without her, it would’ve been difficult sometimes. There were topics that he was embarrassed about and that he didn’t want to tell his Hyungs. And to whom would a teenager usually go? Right, their mother. For him, it was Eunji first until he got a chance to call his mom. And she did a good job. Eunji never judged him for ‘embarrassing things’ or ‘stupid questions’. Which is why they are so close, even to this day.

special moment:

Eunji pretty much raised Jungkook and over the years they spend together they have grown incredibly close. Especially through the teenage years. The struggles of growing up in the entertainment industry were heavy on Jungkook but Eunji made sure to take care of him.

Eunji is sitting in the living room of the dorm. She is freely chatting with Jin and joking around. Jimin and Tae are also there but focused on their game. Yoongi is at the studio and Namjoo and Jhope are going to get food and Yoongi to go back to the dorm. Suddenly there is a timid tap on her shoulder. When she looks up she finds Jungkook. His head is low, eyes only hesitantly looking at her, and his hands are fidgeting. Eunji frowns, worry building up at the image. “Hey, are you okay?” she asks and turns her body towards him. He nods quickly. “Yes! C-can I ask you something?” he asks, stuttering a little. Eunji, still concerned, gets up and nods. “Sure!” she answers. But he hesitates once again. “Privately?” he whispers.

Eunji is surprised but leads him into the shared bedroom of the group. They sit down on the lower bunk bed and Eunji turns to him. He scratches his neck and shifts. Eunji can tell he is nervous. “You can ask me anything, Kookie. I promise I won’t make fun of you, and I won’t tell anyone,” she reassures and softly nudges his shoulder. He takes a deep breath and turns his eyes back to her. “Okay. Ehm, how do I make – how can I ask this?” He asks himself and frowns. Eunji gives him a minute to think. “How do I shave the best way?” he asks, cringing right after. But Eunji immediately understands the issue. “Okay, that alright. Don’t worry, it is totally normal to not know these things,” she reassures. He seems relieved and breathes out deeply.

She gets up and grabs a small bag before returning to him. She opens the bag and pulls out her razor and waxing strips. When she looks at the Maknae he seems intrigued. “I’m sure you know that you could shave with a razor,” she states, and he nods. “I personally prefer waxing, since it helps avoid certain problems with shaving and it is a bit more effective in removing hair for a long time,” she explains, and he listens carefully. “Does waxing hurt?” he asks. Eunji coos at his expression, pinching his cheek a little. “It does a little, not gonna lie. But if you want we can try a small part on the leg first?” she suggests. Eagerly Jungkook agrees. Eunji smiles. “Don’t ever feel embarrassed for asking this stuff, yeah? I’ll try my best to answer them.”

The stadium is empty. The only people there are staff and BTS. Speaking of, Jungkook is currently getting ready to practice the Euphoria Performance where he flies over the stadium. Eunji is standing in front of the stage, her arms folded on stage as she leans on it. There is a cameraman next to her, making sure to record everything while another camera was busy filming Jungkook. “You look so professional,” Eunji compliments after Jungkook just finished talking to staff and tying himself to the pole. His head turns to her, eyes big and shining. “You think?” he asks, excitement shining through. Eunji laughs. “Of course!” As he is lifted into the air he squeals with excitement. Eunji chuckles nervously. “Hold onto that tightly, yeah?” she almost pleads with him. He looks down at shows her a thumbs up. Namjoon steps next to Eunji, both watching their Maknae flying through the air and singing his song. “He grew up so fast,” Eunji mumbles. “Yeah he did,” he agrees. In that moment, Jungkook waves excitedly at the two. Eunji breaks into a big smile and waves back. “You look amazing, Kookie!” she yells up to him and his smile grows even bigger.

In a livestream, Eunji is chatting with fans and reading comments. “Where is Jungkook?” she reads out a comment. A smile forms on her face. “He called me earlier, asking if I was still doing a livestream today. I said yes and he wanted to come. But he is still working out right now,” she explains. She focuses back on the comments as praises and cute comments about Jungkook and Eunkook come in. “Jungkook still baby,” she reads out. A chuckle leaves her. “He is a very soft person. But,” – she interrupts her sentence to take a sip of her drink and then look at the camera more seriously – “he is a handsome and grown up man now. He still has parts of the kid from 10 years ago in him, but he has grown so much. We, you too Army, should acknowledge that, right?” she asks but it is more a rhetorical question. As she reads more comments she laughs out. “How does it feel to have raised the most amazing man on the planet?” she reads out and flashes a big smile at the camera. “Good question. I feel very proud, but he has always been an amazing person. He grew up so well and I will never stop being proud of him.”

It's Festa 2022 and the group is sitting around a table with drinks and food. The conversations have been mixed with funny and relaxed topics but also emotional and personal themes. Right now, the boys are arguing who raised Jungkook the best. “Obviously it’s me! I paid for all his food!” Jin argues and gestures at Yoongi. The younger side eyes his friend and states: “But I have raised him more. We spend so much time together.” “I am sure I raised him the best,” Hobi intervenes and sips his drink. “I mean I spend all my time with him,” he adds.

Meanwhile, Eunji is leaning back in her chair and watching with amusement. For her, this discussion is pointless, but she enjoys the entertainment from it anyways. Suddenly Jimin intervenes: “I believe Eunji Noona raised Jungkook the most.” The group goes quiet. Taehyung agrees with nodding and eats a piece of pork. Eunji chuckles. “I am not a part in this discussion,” she says. The boys begin to ponder on if Eunji should now voice her opinion or not, which makes Eunji giggle more. This is amusing to her. But then something makes them all shut up. “I also think Eunji Noona raised me the best,” Jungkook says. Everyone goes silent. You could hear a pin drop. Eunji laughs at the others’ faces. “Look what you did, Kookie,” she accuses the younger, who just shrugs.

“I actually am really grateful for Noona. I wasn’t easy as a kid and she always knew what to say or do. I feel that Noona was made to be a mother,” – Eunji chuckles at that and Jungkook smiles – “because she raised me as a mother, and, even when I don’t always show it, I couldn’t be more thankful,” he explains. Eunji listens, eyes tearing up and she softly caresses his cheek with the back of her hand. “Why so emotional today, Jk?” Jimin teases but even that doesn’t stop Jungkook from making sure that everyone knows he is serious. “Because I barely say it. I think I should say it more often. I am grateful for all of you raising me and you had a great impact on me,” he continues. Eunji wipes the stray tears of her cheeks and cradles the back of his head. “Oh, and my mom is also very happy about you raising me,” he adds, looking at Eunji. The group erupts in laughs and chuckles. Eunji smiles and softly scratches his head.

nicknames Army gave them: Mother-son, Eunji’s big baby/boy

love language: She is…

giving: acts of service/words of affirmation receiving: physical touch/quality time eunkook ‘thing’: sitting in each other’s lap & caretaking (washing hair, cooking dinner, removing makeup, etc.)

🤎🧡🤎🧡🤎🧡🤎🧡🤎🧡🤎🧡

This layout isn’t mine; I have ‘stolen’ it from @txt-yaomi! Don’t worry, I got permission to use it. I recommend going to her acc as well, she has a great TXT Addition story! Thank you for letting me use this 🧡

Disclaimer: All the pictures are from Pinterest and are not mine. Credit to the owners.

#bts addition #bts eunji #bts 8th member #bts female member #bts female oc #bts oc #8th member of bts #kpop addition #bts female addition #eunji x bts #Eunji x BTS #eunji relationships #oc relationships #kpop female addition #kpop female oc #kpop female member #kpop oc #i am confused about life #I-am-confused-about-life

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to-the-stars8 · 2 months

Text

Warnings: Mention of suicidal thoughts

So, anyone who wants to hear it, here’s how I think the story of Batman and all of his Robins should have gone in terms of just writing it like it was story. Mind you, most of the basic elements of the Robin's backstory are gonna obviously be in here, just fyi if you just see things that you already know. I am would love to hear what you guys think, too!

Now, quick disclaimer, I’m just going to go with the four main robins only because I know them best— other robins such as Carrie Kelley or Stephanie Brown I’m not as familiar with. I hope to one day to also extend this to other sidekick/people Batman works with, but that’ll be a separate post. Anyway, one more warning; this will be long.

Starting off with the death of Dick Grayson’s parents. Bruce sees them die, and instantly makes the connection between himself and newly orphaned Dick Grayson. It's one of the main reasons why Bruce takes him in. After all, he was once a boy so riddled by trauma and pain that he thought (at least in the beginning of being Batman) that violence and vengeance was the only answer. So, when Bruce adopts Dick, he doesn't want him to go down the same path. This is where I want to the conflict between Bruce trying to be not only a better person for Dick, but to also attempt to hold onto the feelings that drive his vengeance. Because, the way I would write it, Bruce is still pretty new at being Batman, he hasn't yet realized his "mission" isn't just getting his revenge on Gotham's criminals—It's creating a better life for the people there so they, too, wouldn't have to go through what he did. Though, another small disclaimer, I'll admit that I am missing a few pieces there.

Back to the main topic, if I lose you at all blame the ADHD, so Dick comes to Wayne Manor where he's angry at the world for what happened to his parents. Bruce, who is probably in his mid-twenties at this point, has no clue how to be a parent. He doesn't want to overstep his boundaries with Dick, but the boy is increasingly becoming angrier and angrier. The idea of Dick becoming anything like Bruce, in terms of being Batman, doesn't cross his mind because, unlike some DC writers, I don't think Bruce was actively looking for child soldiers.

Anyway, there is already the underlying push and pull factor between the two, which I think will probably define the rest of their relationship. And, like mentioned before, this is where I would want Bruce to try to be a better Batman, relying not on violence because he can see how it's affects others.

To further explain in a round-a-bout way, young Dick and Bruce are essentially mirrors of each other. And, I don't think Bruce entirely approves of how he, meaning Bruce himself, acts. Hence, why he begins to change Batman from a vengeful, violent vigilante (say that five times fast) to a hopeful knight of Gotham. Dick is his driving force of change, as well as the other Robins. So, when Bruce finally realized that Dick won't simply stand by and be the little boy that he should be—He gives him a chance to be something better than Batman. To begin his career as a vigilante as a hero with hope rather than rage. He's reluctant to do it, because he loves Dick. (Granted, Dick Grayson's Robin is absolutely filled with rage, but, in my story, Bruce is trying to lead from example)

And, just to move through the rest of it quickly so this isn't the same word count as the fucking constitution, as Dick grows so does Bruce. Batman is hopeful, and Bruce is gaining a family. Granted, it's small, but it's there. Along the way, he makes friends. Dick is the reason for this, though some credit can be given to Bruce himself. Despite being angry, Dick will always be outgoing, it's one of the best traits his parents passed onto him—And, he passes that along to Bruce. He begins to learn how a family functions, even if it's a hint of it. he is starting to realize there is more beyond the mask.

So, when the relationship between them starts to break down I would want to see that opposite reaction in the other relationships around Bruce. Because, before Dick, it was isolation, facade, anger, and Batman. Now, when he leaves, it's just that again.

I want to see this internal struggle between Dick letting Bruce be his father and letting him be his partner. Because, despite being similar, one holds more resent than the other. Dick can't stand that Bruce is trying to parent him because he had family, and now they were gone. He doesn't want to have a replacement family nor does he want to lose it again. With Batman, there comes the difference between ideologies. As Bruce strays away from untethered violence into something a bit more calmer, Dick is still filled with that same anger, causing a clash.

Eventually, it hits a breaking point when Bruce takes away the one thing that Dick himself created, the rope in their game of tug of war breaks. Dick leaves, Bruce isolates, and it seems that Gotham once again dissolves back to how it used to be.

Then, Bruce meets Jason. And, it's not like with Dick. It's different. Jason wasn't filled with anger or lost hope, he was a happy, hopeful kid. He wanted to be a kid, and Robin just happened to be a good fit for him, too. So, this is really when Bruce becomes Bruce not Batman. Bruce had gotten the taste of that with Dick, but Batman always seemed to have some tug in their relationship. At this point, I want to see Bruce realize just how much that affected his relationship with Dick and feel the remorse over that. I would want to see Bruce reach out to his eldest son, and be rejected because Dick is still wounded. In fact, Dick himself, despite legally being an adult, is a kid. He's hurt over Bruce essentially replacing, in his eyes, and finding a "better" son. This drives in harder the idea of Bruce wanting to not stop being Batman, but put more of an effort of just being Dad/Bruce. Again, Bruce is learning.

Back to Jason. Jason, in this story, would be one of the first Robins to really experience Bruce as a father. And, that turns the relationship of Batman and Robin less into a partnership and more into a father-son duo without one trying to control the other as much. Yet, there's still the distinction of just how different Jason is compared to Dick and Bruce. Jason never had a family, not a stable one at least, nor did he grow up financially stable. Jason was essentially the average poor Gotham kid, which did kick up a lot of backlash between the two. Yet, nothing too serious. In fact, I feel like Bruce would probably start being a lot more lenient with Jason at the beginning with just how easy he was as not just a sidekick but as a son.

And this is what I believe would lead to Jason leaning more into his violent tendencies compared to Dick. Now, before the torches do light, hear me out. I do not think Jason is an outwardly or inherently a violent kid. I think with the innate sense of justice Bruce would instill all of his Robins combined with being exposed to violence socially and now personally, it would lead to Jason seeing some flaws in Batman's logic. He might sense that since one person continuously abuses the system and gets away with hurting/murdering people that it might be better to eliminate the problem all together. This idea growing on Jason would lead to the death of Felipe, causing a huge and sudden rift between the two. Ultimately leading to Jason being kidnapped, tortured and killed all in pursuit of finding someone who might accept him despite Bruce never having rejected for what he did.

Eventually, after Jason died Bruce is in this hole of regret, remorse, and overall probably a bit suicidal. Afterall, he lost his son and feels like because he let Robin be that it caused Jason's death. So, when Dick re-enters the picture with Tim Drake, a boy finding and wanting to be Robin, I can see Bruce absolutely lashing out in grieving anger. Because, again being Robin had killed his son and he would be damned if that happened again. Yet, Tim being Tim was determined to show Bruce that it wasn't him or Robin that killed Jason—It was a mad man and a woman who deceived her son. Kind of playing into the idea it's not Robin who makes the boy, it's the boy who makes Robin. Not only that, but Tim is adamant that he will be Robin to not only prove this but also to show that Robin and Batman are two sides of the same coin. Ultimately, reverting back to Batman and Robin being a partnership instead of that father-son duo. At least, at first.

Bruce is protective of Tim, but there is definitely the drift in their relationship. Because, as we all know Tim's story, he still had parents when he became Robin so there was no need to fill that son position, for the lack of a better term, Jason had left behind. So, in a sense, I can see this relationship between the two starting off more like a boss and worker. Yet, as they continue to work together, Bruce would probably learn that Tim is making Robin, not the other way around. At this point, also, I can see Dick be more involved and bridge that gap with his father after seeing just how deeply he cares for his children.

Then, Tim's parents are murdered and I think the guilt would come back to Bruce, albeit a bit less extreme. He would feel responsible for putting this child in this situation and want to take him out of that. Yet, Tim is pushing against not only as a partner but as a potential son that which would definitely affect their relationship. This is why I personally would think that Tim and Bruce's relationship would be the most strained out of all of the Robins, though the two do share a deep connection it's just not as serious, again lack of a good term, as the other's.

Because I'm slowly getting more tired, I am going to try my best to get through Damian's. Again, guys, feel free to ask questions because this is just surface level stuff. If anyone makes it to this point, anyway or even reads this lol.

Alright, so just jumping into Damian, I think Bruce would treat Damian as he would have Jason. Unlike all the other Robins there's already a establish connection between the two before they even meet. I mean, Damian is literally his bio son and Damian is told that all throughout his life, so it would be a more of a one-sided connection at first then it grow on Bruce. Damian doesn't need training unlike all of his other predecessor's, the boy's already pre-programmed with skill. The major issue would be honing in on the assassination part of Damian and essentially Bruce's trauma from his other children.

So, right from the gate, I think Bruce would try to be a father to his Damian rather just Batman. And, I think Damian, at first, would not respond well to that. For his whole life, it's just been fight or die, nothing in-between. I think it would be interesting to see Bruce fall back into being a father, which, at this point, he already would have been since Dick returned and Tim and him slowly got closer. I think Bruce would be tougher on Damian simply because of how worried he would be for his safety and well-being. Bruce knows the League of Assassins and how it is absolutely no place for a young boy. So, Bruce would try to create normalcy like he did with Jason, but also be tough like he was on Dick. Overall, I think there's the same push and pull with them like with Bruce and Dick, but not to the extent as it was. After all, I would like to think at this point, Alfred convinced Bruce to go to therapy. Though, it can be said the two would also share a close personal relationship like Jason and Bruce.

I would go on, but, right now, I have a huge headache, so might edit later.

That's pretty much it guys. I know there might be some contradictions in this, but, to be fairly honest, this is just a streamline of thought. I think I read over this once, so any inconsistencies are just left. Please ignore. Or point out. It's pretty much either or. Again, I would love to know what you guys think. Hope you enjoyed this rant. I am going to bed now. ❤️❤️❤️

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fairybinie · 1 year

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KISS, DON’T TELL — 15: if's and when's

synopsis: popular and menacingly wicked choi beomgyu has the entire senior class wrapped around his finger. the high school drama club has cherished y/n as their veteran for four years. to fulfill beomgyu’s graduation requirements, he must join y/n’s drama club despite his grudges. unbeknownst to everyone else, y/n and beomgyu have their history. they’ve kissed before (or more like y/n has bitten his lip to bleed) and beomgyu hasn’t lived it down ever since. y/n cannot stand this guy. they can make it through the entire year as the leads in their play, right?

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a/n: written (3.8k) + smau. mentions of kissing, nothing else i can see! so sorry for the wait i hope this was worth it 😔

...

but good to know :D

really y/n?

y/n could have chosen to ignore the last few messages of his remorse and just told him them were on their way. they also could have chosen to ignore that beomgyu can actually bring a smile to their face and their limited interactions have been replaying in their head since they have occurred. it’s hard to ignore a feeling like that.

texting beomgyu these past days and observing him in class has led y/n to believe that maybe there is more to him than what he is displaying. it’s no doubt that he keeps up an image for everyone else to believe and roll with, hell, even idolize with. y/n knew that already, but they weren’t sure if there was anything below the surface. did he even have a personality besides the obnoxious one that was 24/7? the fact that he seemed to be sorrowful about his comments just now might insinuate that he has a conscious. sure, it wasn’t there before. perhaps something shifted in the boy recently. why?

come to think of it, y/n really doesn't know anything about this guy. he plays guitar, that’s something, right? does beomgyu want to become a musician despite being stern about the fact that he doesn’t have a passion? he has to have one.

questions, questions, questions that y/n is hoping to get answers to.

most of all, why is he still hung up on the shared kiss that happened four years ago?

choi beomgyu intrigues them, whether they would like to admit it or not.

“y/n! hello?”

y/n shudders away their thoughts and stares blankly at the red light in front of them. their hands grip tightly around the dark leather material around their steering wheel as they glance at their car radio. an ongoing call with their friends that has lasted fifteen minutes.

y/n reaches for their temple as they begin to mindlessly rub circles, waiting for the light to turn green. they kept their word to soobin’s request to call them when they were heading to beomgyu’s house.

“sorry, what happened?”

someone groans in response, y/n’s guess is eliana. her groans were engrained in their head as they were always the receiving end to them.

“we were talking about going to disneyland during winter break,” eliana reminds with no distinction in her voice.

yes, disneyland. of course. y/n readjusts themselves to the mood and the light changes as they do, stepping their foot on the gas pedal.

“right- yeah, i’m on board-”

a howl cuts y/n off mid sentence as each speaker in the vehicle blasts with each rhythm of laughter, that of which belongs to kai. y/n is taken aback momentarily, but it soon hits them that was not the topic of conversation.

“can we actually go, though?” kai genuinely asks once he pulls himself together. soobin agreeingly replies with instinct to satisfy kai in the moment.

“you’re not paying attention,” eliana points out to y/n, seeing right through them despite not being in the car with them. “what’s up, babe?”

y/n makes a U-turn once they realize that they missed the correct street. “sorry guys, i was distracted.”

“y/n, you don’t have to go if you’re not comfortable,” soobin advises which brings a slight smile to y/n’s face. soobin was always protective over them and the whole group appreciated him for it, even if it could be overbearing at times.

“no no, it’s not that,” y/n reassures as they look at their phone mounted on the dashboard to check if this is the right corner to make a turn.

“then what is it?” kai asks with some concern in his voice. being the youngest in the group has always made him worry for his older friends. he was a perfect little brother.

“nothing! trust me,” y/n barely tries to sound convincing. the group looks it over this one time considering that y/n is driving. it would be understandable if their attention wasn’t fully there.

y/n ends the gps navigation as they push the center console to park. “i’m here.”

they haven’t been to beomgyu’s house in years, not since the incident occurred. frankly, the trauma it induced for them made them forget the details of the inside. the patio outside reminisces the other houses in this neighborhood. though it’s dark outside, the beaming stars in the night sky highlight the string of florescent lights that shape the doorway in the front. it’s a nice touch, they remember it made them feel comfortable coming in last time.

“it’s not too late to back out,” soobin says one last time. he’s still nervous for his best friend.

“i’ll be fine soobin,” y/n replies before he continues to go on. they stare at the home and release a whisper. “i hope.”

“okay, well, text us right after,” eliana cautions, bringing out her inner mother role.

a swarm of goodbyes and love you’s were exchanged before the call was ended. y/n detaches their phone from the dashboard and gathers their essentials and soon exit the vehicle. they give their car a lock as they head towards the doorway. each footstep is light, but tense. it’s until now that they see some bear stickers on the door and they can’t help but admire the cuteness. they wonder if that was a recent addition as it wasn’t there the last time.

with a big inhale, they ring the doorbell.

there was a moment of waiting and y/n contemplated ringing it one more time. they remember what eliana said about coming across as desperate, but they never cared about that prior to this. in all honesty, they needed to rely on beomgyu. he was their co-star after all.

why do they now feel this twisting feeling inside their stomach at the thought of being desperate?

y/n hears footsteps approach the door and they straighten their sweater to prepare. they’re wearing a simple white t-shirt that hugs their figure just right with a light blue hooded sweater, courtesy of kai. his clothes were always the comfiest and y/n made it a habit to search through his closet every time they come over. soobin gets slightly pouty at the thought. y/n doesn’t know if it’s because they borrow kai’s clothes, or if he wants to borrow them. the thought makes them chuckle.

fresh conditioned air blows right at y/n’s face as the door opens and the boy stands at the other end. he’s wearing brown plaid pajama bottoms topped with a beige crewneck with a teddy bear in the right corner. that little detail makes y/n think the decor on the door was intentional. a hint of softness makes some way into their heart. they fight the urge to smile.

“hey,” beomgyu greets with a downwards smile. “did you make it over here safe?”

beomgyu’s voice has a naturally tired tone to it. even if he’s not sleepy it always sounds casual and lustful. y/n doesn’t know if it’s always been like this or if they just noticed.

he’s also asking about their safety. who is this guy?

“um, yeah,” y/n replies as they rock their feet back and forth. beomgyu nods and realizes that he has to let them inside so he opens the door all the way and reaches his arm out to gesture the inside. y/n takes the offer.

with each step y/n observes the house as much as they can. it has been a while since they’ve been here but as far as they remember, not much has changed. some furniture has been rearranged and some new decor here and there, but it’s still very much beomgyu’s home. the interior has black and brown elements which gives it a homey feeling. it’s like if autumn and hot chocolate was a home.

just like he said, he did have the house to himself. beomgyu leads them to the kitchen and y/n sees a few family photos plastered on the fridge door. some were just of his parents, others were baby pictures of beomgyu. it seems like he’s always been on the devious side after catching a glance of a young boy pointing a toy gun at the camera with no thought behind his eyes.

y/n glimpses at a group photo with beomgyu, his parents, and an older child. they were posing in front of an amusement park with big grins on their faces. y/n has never seen this other boy before, perhaps it was beomgyu’s brother.

y/n shifts their gaze over to the kitchen counter and sees two bowls of ramen sitting in the center. guess he was being serious about providing them with food. they were starving though.

“i don’t know how you usually eat yours so i just put my fixings on,” beomgyu speaks slightly embarrassed. y/n eyes the bowl a little longer than they intended. they were just trying to piece together why on earth he would make them food.

“relax, i didn’t poison it or anything,” beomgyu jokes while holding the soup in his hands, digging into his first bite with his chopsticks. the idea did cross y/n’s mind, which makes them feel a bit apologetic.

is that how bad they see him?

y/n slowly walks over to the aisle and joins beomgyu. “do you want to work here?”

“we could go to my room,” beomgyu suggests as his eyes hide behind his bowl while he slurps some broth. there was no hint of anything sinister in beomgyu’s voice but the statement still makes y/n’s eyes widen.

“no,” they simply respond faster than they wished. they walk around the counter and sit in one of the spinning chairs where their bowl lays out in front of them. “right here is fine.”

beomgyu shrugs his shoulders and sits down next to them. y/n reaches to their tote bag and pulls out the lengthy script which has notes sticking out from certain areas and highlighted parts to accompany them. beomgyu nearly chokes mid slurp at the sight.

“sooo, how do we do this?” as beomgyu stretches out his question, y/n takes their first bite into their food. just as they feared, it was delicious. so much flavor in everything, but not too overbearing in being salty or spicy. they could attempt to figure out which brand he used, but they’re here for other things.

“well,” y/n finishes swallowing their food. “we could start with any questions you might have.”

“yeah, i’m sure you have all the answers,” beomgyu stiffly laughs as he brings his head forward to the script that centers in front of the two.

y/n feels their cheeks flush red and heat up at the exposure. they hope he doesn’t notice. “i just mean if you need anything to be clarified. it could help you play the role better.”

beomgyu draws in his breath and stares at the stack of papers longingly. throughout his education, he was taught to find the theme of each piece he reads. reading this script has given him an idea of what it could be in this case, but some parts are a bit foggy. he feels self-conscious asking y/n what it is. he doesn’t want them to think he’s an idiot, even though they probably already think he is. they’ve made their dislike for him quite obvious.

“um, i guess,” beomgyu holds his gaze in front but can feel y/n’s eyes on his. his blood pulses through his skin. “what this story is really about, you know, deep down.”

he’s expecting y/n to laugh in his face just like he did to them the other day, but they don’t. instead, y/n understandingly nods as they push their half eaten soup to the side to leave enough room to put their elbows on the table. for some reason, beomgyu finds this endearing. he was always scolded for leaving his elbows on the table. it wasn’t polite, apparently.

“well, ben is at crossroads when he gets into a college with a full basketball scholarship, but also gets into his dream school that would support his performing arts career. no one knows he's interested in that field so it's the good 'ol following the head or heart thing, which i'm always a sucker for.”

beomgyu watches y/n go on about the story for the production, even going over key plots that beomgyu might have missed. he notices there seems to be stars in y/n's eyes as they continue to talk. he can tell that they're speaking from the heart.

“i'm assuming that's the passion concept mrs. kim was going over in class the first day?” beomgyu guesses in thought.

“yeah, ben loves to perform and even plays guitar at some point,” y/n eagerly responds. “which should be easy for you, since you play right?”

beomgyu feels a small smile form on his lips. he quickly covers it up with another bite of his meal.

“wouldn't you consider that your passion?” y/n decides to try to get an answer out of him. it's been bugging them all this time that he hasn't been open about it.

“i know you really enjoy it, beomgyu,” y/n did catch his change in expression earlier. “you must be good at it too. if you admit that's what you're passionate about, it'll help you a ton.”

there's a moment of silence as beomgyu takes in their words and figures out what to do with them. the quiet atmosphere is almost uncomfortable and y/n can't tell if they've overstepped their boundaries. they consider leaving, but they did have an agenda here, and that was to rehearse some of this with beomgyu. instead, they opt for reaching to turn the page.

“i do love playing guitar,” beomgyu promptly admits. “and it is my passion. my uncle gave me my first guitar when i was in middle school and i haven't stopped playing since.”

y/n smiles at the thought of a small beomgyu, who was probably more unhinged than he is now, sitting down and playing a relaxing acoustic guitar. if they were told this years ago, they wouldn't have believed it. the more they look at beomgyu, it suits him. the calluses on certain fingers with those round, deep brown eyes of his focusing on a music sheet. the low husk to his voice covering songs with a beautiful essence.

“why didn't you want to admit it in class?” y/n realizes they needed to speak before it appears they've been staring at the boy for too long.

“because i barely wanted to admit it to myself,” beomgyu responds in full honesty. “my parents just see it as a hobby and don't think it can take me anywhere in life as it's not an official profession.”

y/n recalls the text beomgyu sent about only them and his parents knowing he plays guitar. his last sentence even has them think about their conversations with their dad, that sentiment hits too close to home. y/n chooses not to bring it up to beomgyu. they sit with caution as they wonder how many questions they could ask him.

“there's so many things you could do with that talent,” instead of potentially saying the wrong thing, y/n offers him some possible careers to lift his spirits. “you could be a songwriter, a producer. hey, even when you make it in the big leagues you could be a sound engineer in the blockbuster movies!”

there's a part to y/n's monologue that catches beomgyu's attention.

when you make it in the big leagues.

they didn't say if, they said when. beomgyu has never heard that word in regards to his future. it was always 'if', 'maybe', or any other tense that doubts his passion.

has he gotten his first supporter? and was it someone he has shared a moment so personal as a kiss?

“you said when,” beomgyu decides to bring up the fact.

it takes a moment for y/n to register what he means, but with the astonished expression on his face, the feeling soon settles in on them. y/n has their supporters, it was time for beomgyu to have his. despite how they feel about him and their past history that annoyingly hangs on their head, they weren't a monster. perhaps it was time to see beomgyu in a different light and it appears that they were the only one to do so.

“so throughout the story dae is there for ben to open his eyes in realizing that pursuing his dream is the right path to go,” y/n steers off in a different direction. “since it's romance, of course there has to be a fling between them.”

beomgyu softly smiles to himself picturing the story unfold. “i'm sure ben appreciates dae being there for him and seeing what he can do.”

y/n feels warm as they see beomgyu finally start to understand the plot and it only took them to have an honest conversation. talking with beomgyu wasn't as bad as they expected.

“i'm sure dae loves supporting him through it all when no one else would.”

beomgyu lifts his head up to face y/n who is gazing right back at him. it's the first time their expression isn't written in disgust or annoyance. in fact, it appears to be loving. he wishes it could always be like this.

the moment stretches out a little longer and beomgyu can't help but glance down at y/n's lips. he wonders if it still tastes like cherry chapstick. the red tint they have makes him believe it's still accurate. y/n catches the gesture and coughs down some air as they play with the edges of the paper. they fight the urge to not rip the ends of it and curl them into little balls, a habit they got from kai.

“so…yeonjun and taehyun don't know?” y/n speaks in an airy voice, their eyes still locked on the words written in front of them.

beomgyu doesn't know if they're referring to the guitar thing, or the kiss they shared four years ago.

frankly, y/n isn't sure about what they mean either.

still, beomgyu chooses an answer to please both questions.

“not a single thing.”

y/n hums in response, their lips tight together. beomgyu plays with the chopsticks in his now empty bowl when he hears a voice speak up once again.

“would you be able to play for me?”

beomgyu knows this question is referring to his talent for guitar, and due to the seriousness he's been displaying this entire time now, he switches gears for a lighthearted moment.

“i'll play for you when we go on a date.”

y/n would expect some rage boil down to their stomach, as they would have reacted that way before. this feeling, though? was it butterflies? nervousness? whatever it was, it sure wasn't negative. this night is full of firsts.

“do you…do you want to rehearse some of it now?” y/n clears their throat in between. beomgyu doesn't question their non-response and agrees with a head nod.

…

the two got through the first act right at midnight. to their surprise, beomgyu wasn't that bad at acting. sure, he missed a couple cues that ensued some awkward presentations, but it's nothing they couldn't work on together. they even liked the slight challenge. being co-stars with soobin now seemed too easy for them.

beomgyu was the difference they needed.

“you can be honest, you know,” beomgyu speaks in a playful manner as he finishes the last dish to wash. he hands the bowl for y/n to dry with a damp rag.

“i mean it! you weren't terrible,” y/n chuckles while they reach to put the bowl away in the cupboards.

after beomgyu and y/n finished rehearsing the first half they decided to wash the dishes. y/n didn't even suggest helping him dry, they just did it with no questions asked. still, it was another conversation starter.

“that means a lot coming from you,” beomgyu snickers and reaches for the rag in y/n's hands to dry his own. he smiles at them while looking down at their sweater, noticing a small stain of sauce near the front.

“hey, you got something there,” he points out as y/n glances down at the gesture, mentally cursing in their head. they hated getting their clothes dirty, let alone their borrowed ones from kai.

y/n whines as they reach for a paper towel to attempt to clean it off, only to have beomgyu stop them in between the action.

“you'll make it worse,” beomgyu advises. “i have a washing machine upstairs if you wanted to stay a little while longer.”

y/n would have rejected the offer if it weren't for their washing machine being repaired as they speak. they really loved this sweatshirt, they were hoping to wear it again this week. they scrunch their nose as their left eye slightly squints, thinking about what they should do.

they weren't repulsed by hanging out with beomgyu a little more, but sleep was about to hit them at any moment. it was better if they left now before they accidentally take a nap at a red light.

“i would but i should be getting home,” y/n apologetically responds.

“are you sure? you could give it to me and i'll have it ready for you tomorrow,” beomgyu cringes at the fact that he sounds like a dry cleaner. y/n finds it amusing.

man, how they loved that sweatshirt.

“fine just- don't screw it up,” y/n warns as they slip off the piece of clothing, feeling a breeze hit the bottom of their stomach as it lifts a little along with it.

y/n hands him the sweatshirt warily, hesitating to give it to him all the way, to which beomgyu responds with a deadpan. y/n smiles and ultimately gives it to him, and beomgyu places it on the couch for him to put away later.

y/n walks over to their tote bag and beomgyu suggests walking them outside. part of it was to be a gentleman, but he just wanted to see them drive away safely. y/n wouldn't be aware of the second option.

“don't forget your script next time,” y/n finally instructs him at the door. they're on the outside as beomgyu stays inside, hanging his arm on the doorframe as a slight smirk forms on his face.

“wouldn't count on it, i love this story too much now,” beomgyu doesn't mean to admit the last part, but y/n can't help but cheese at the statement.

“i'm glad to hear that,” y/n crosses their arms with a grin as they take a few steps back, ready to head to their vehicle.

“i'll give you updates on your sweater when i text you,” beomgyu calls out to them. “goodnight, drive safe.”

y/n sends over two thumbs up and begins to back up once they're inside their car. beomgyu doesn't head inside until they're completely out of his sight.

…

y/n doesn't fall asleep as quickly as they would've thought. they've been spending the past hour mindlessly scrolling through their feed, feeling their eyes blink slowly each time.

how could they sleep when tonight went better than they thought?

a notification appears at the top that brings a grin ear to ear and it's at this moment they realize one thing.

there would be no false promises between them and beomgyu.

there would be no more 'if's'.

please do not translate, modify or repost on other platforms.

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