#(I have a playlist and voice claims picked out already don't look at me)

[winterfollows]

Unrelated to anything but hear me out: metal band AU

#(it's the cheesiest thing and I've wanted one since the dawn of time) #(I have a playlist and voice claims picked out already don't look at me) #(modern or cyberpunk backdrop I don't care; come play with me in this space)

[3d-wifey]

And They'd Find Us In A Week - Chapter 2

Pairing: Finnick Odair x Reader Word Count: 4.2k Synopsis: Here! Playlist: Listen up! A/N: Don't be scared to click the embedded links, you might get an auditory surprise (Ai voice cloning works wonders)

Past (ii) - You

[16 & 17] - THE CAPITOL

The man before you has a ten-year streak of picking which tribute will win. Or, at least, that’s what he’s been claiming for the past twenty minutes or so. He said it has something to do with a lot of strategic planning and background research, but at this point, he could say it had something to do with the phases of the moon and you’d still nod along. You had tried to listen closely when he first started talking, but—well, okay, that’s a lie. Everything these Capitols say goes in one ear and out the other. Actually, it doesn’t even make it as far as the first ear.

“I know how it sounds, but it’s definitely more than luck, I can assure you.” His hand catches your shoulder in his attempt to hold your very fleeting attention, trailing down your back more and more in his excitement. “Well, I won’t bore you with the details, they might be a touch too complicated for you to understand.” He laughs and you smile coyly, sidestepping his touch. You’re no stranger to the heavy-handed petting of men and women with ulterior motives, no matter how innocent they try to play it off as being at first.

It’s nighttime in the arena, and most of the tributes are getting a spare few hours of sleep before the nightmare continues. Meaning this watch party has turned into an actual party. Honestly, you don’t even know how you got trapped in a conversation with this guy.

You sip delicately from your straw, eyes roaming over the room of mingling bodies and wall-length screens depicting the games live—eager to look at literally anything but him. And that’s when you spot him: your saving grace walking by himself with his hands in his pockets.

You make eye contact with Finnick and smile, waving him over. He only hesitates for a split second, but it’s long enough that you worry he’ll leave you to fend for yourself. A fear that’s only abated when he calls out your name and approaches with a mystified grin.

“Finn!” Thank god. “I’ve been looking all over for you.” You exclaim in the most sickeningly saccharine Capitol voice you can muster. He stares with wide blue-green eyes, bemusedly mouthing ‘Finn?’ at you but you ignore him in favor of turning back to the man who somehow looks more starstruck than before.

“I’m sorry, but Finnick here promised me a dance.” You explain, pulling an excuse out of your ass. You loop your arm with Finnick’s, practically hanging off of him, and you hope beyond hope that Finnick is good at reading social cues. It should be obvious, right? You’re a big neon sign flashing ‘HELP ME’ in no uncertain terms. 

“I did?” He asks, clearly confused at such a friendly greeting, but you stare up at him pleadingly and you must be projecting enough distress that he gets the memo. His back straightens in understanding and he smiles at the other man. “I did. But you know us victors, as slippery as an eel.” The other man lets out a flustered laugh. Finnick tilts his head as the band starts up. “Oh, I love this song. You don’t mind, do you? Thanks.”

You only have a few seconds to wonder what the hell an eel is before Finnick takes your glass out of your hand and hands it over to the sputtering man.

Your arms are still looped together as he leads you to the area where the other couples have decided to dance. 

“May I have this dance?” He teases and you get a strong sense of déjà vu.

“Well, we’re already here, aren’t we?” You laugh. You loop your arms behind his neck, and big hands grab either side of your waist. 

“We’ve gotta stop meeting like this.” He sighs, any chance of him being serious is shattered by his smirk.

“What do you mean?” Your brows furrow before raising to touch your hairline when he spins you.

“You know; you being a damsel in distress, and me saving you by being dashingly handsome and charming.” He clears his throat obnoxiously and puffs up his chest playfully. You’re sure if his hands were free he’d stretch to flex his muscles.

“Mhm,” You hum doubtfully. “Those are…certainly words that could be said with your name in the same sentence.” 

“...I think that’s the most roundabout way anyone has ever insulted me before.” His jaw drops before he grins down at you in amused surprise. You laugh at his face, sobering up a little.

“But thank you, Finnick. Seriously. I’m sorry I keep relying on you to pull me out. It’s just…” You don’t know what else to do.

“No, it’s alright. It’s fun, honestly. We rarely get to exercise the little authority we have over them.” His mouth shrugs instead of his shoulders, an endearing motion. “Better enjoy it while you can, right?’’ 

You nod.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He straightens up subtly as your probing stare looks him up and down. “Don’t take this the wrong way. You look great, but you don’t really seem like a suit kind of guy.” There’s nothing about his outward appearance that gives away how uncomfortable he is, but you only need to talk to him for a few minutes to know this isn’t the sort of thing he’d choose to wear. Not that he looks bad in it; far from it. The coat is tailored to sinch at his waist and a few buttons of his undershirt are undone. The color of the jacket complements his skin tone quite well and the little pocket square makes his eyes pop. 

“Thank you. Try telling that to my prep team.” He rolls his eyes. “Apparently, telling them I feel like a circus monkey playing dress up isn’t enough to dissuade them, so I might need a second opinion.”

Circus? "Wait, you’ve seen a monkey before?” You ask in awed disbelief. His mouth moves wordlessly at your enthusiasm.

“Well…not in person, per se.”

Past (ii) - Finnick

[16 & 17] - THE NEXT DAY

Finnick pours the rest of his drink into one of the potted plants he walks past, unbuttoning his suit coat once he's out of sight. This really is the last time he's letting his stylist dress him up in this getup. He rubs his temple in an attempt to soothe his growing migraine. As far as he's concerned, his job here is done. He has no reason to keep watching the games. His tributes already died. He pushes the doors open to the wide balcony and stops in his tracks. Of the many things Finnick expects to find out here, your crying isn't one of them. His first thought is that you're mourning your tributes. His second thought is that Snow got to you. It's an odd time for Snow to drop that kind of proposition on you. There are too many people here, too open for that kind of conversation. He scratches that out and circles back to his first thought. When he wasn't busy rubbing elbows with sponsors, he was keeping an eye out for your tributes. Switching periodically from his kids to yours and he can't, for the life of him, explain why. They got pretty far, considering they were malnourished and had no combat training. The boy got crushed under a tree after an earthquake and the girl stayed with him until he died. Though, it wasn't long before a Career shot an arrow through her head. The balcony door shuts behind him, and you whip around. Neither of you says anything as you rush to wipe your face. There’s an awkward lull as you both silently assess each other. "If you tell me it gets easier, I will push you off this balcony." He doesn't answer immediately, instead taking a moment to look at you. God, you're beautiful. Even now, wiping away your tears and your hurt, you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. He doesn’t say any of that. "I wasn't going to." He raises his hands placatingly. He waits for you to tell him to leave, but the demand never comes. He almost offers to but decides against it for no other reason than not wanting to leave you out here alone. Instead, he moves closer and leans against the railing. It's quiet between you both as you try to hide your tears. He looks at you from the corner of his eye a few times and scratches an eyebrow with his thumb. It’s odd to think the two of you were laughing and enjoying each other’s company only yesterday. "I cried in a supply closet the first time my kids died." He glances at your surprised face before looking back down at the view. He clears his throat around the words trapped in his throat. He’s never told anyone this before, he’s never wanted to. "A fourteen-year-old girl named Dahlia, and a sixteen-year-old boy named Nyle. They didn't even make it out of the Cornucopia." Nyle was decapitated by a tribute from One and Dahlia's throat was slit by a tribute from Seven. Finnick remembers crying so hard that he threw up in a mop bucket. "Why are you telling me this?" That is a good question. One with an answer Finnick doesn’t want to look too closely at, though it might—scratch that, it definitely has something to do with your big watery eyes staring up at him ingenuously. 

"Your first game as a mentor is always the hardest, and it doesn't get easier. But,” he shrugs and pulls the artfully folded, blue handkerchief out of his breast pocket, and hands it to you. Turns out this suit is good for something, "you do learn what to expect. You get used to that hurt, build up a tolerance to it." At least, he hopes so. This is his third year as a mentor and the burn is still there. How much longer until he tries to extinguish it by using substances? The Morphlings lasted two and four years, respectively. Haymitch lasted two months. You look between him and the handkerchief for a second before using it to wipe at your eyes. "It's completely different than being in the games. It's different watching." You whisper, barely loud enough to be heard over the wind. "Yeah. It is.” That's another thing they don't mention when you become a victor. The after is often worse than the during. It’s a thought he had when he saw you at your Victor Tour celebration. He doesn’t know what exactly made him ask you to dance, it could have been the tenseness you carried in your shoulders like a wounded animal being surrounded, or maybe it was the way your pretty face cracked and shattered like glass the longer the Capitols talked to you.

You were a commendable actor, sure, you’d certainly have fooled anyone else. But you just, you had looked so alone—completely overwhelmed with the piranhas circling you. So he threw you a line.

Your words swim through his head. 

And you want to save me? He didn’t say your assessment was right, in fact, he had ignored what you said entirely. But he never said you were wrong either. He doesn’t suddenly have a savior complex or anything, he’s got no delusions of being some kind of hero. It’s just. He knows how much he would have appreciated it if someone had stepped in on his behalf when he was fourteen, even for just a moment. It would have made all the difference. But there hadn’t been anyone. So, if he has the chance to change that for you—stop the crippling despondency before it sweeps you away—why wouldn’t he?

Finnick won’t overestimate his influence. If Snow gets to you, there’s very little he can do about it. But.

It doesn’t seem like he’s made you the offer yet. Doesn’t that mean something? Snow is nothing if not punctual, very cut-throat in that regard. If he wanted something from you, he would have asked already, right? So maybe, he lets himself think, maybe you’re safe.

He looks up to the sky. One of the many things he hates about the Capitol is the smog. They're in the mountains, but the sky is so polluted it's hard to even see the moon sometimes. "Can you see the stars well in Eleven?" He asks, waving off your attempt to hand him back the handkerchief. You can burn it for all he cares. "Yeah,” you nod. "We focus on agriculture, so there are no mills or factories to pollute the air." You move closer to where he's leaning and look up. It feels almost instinctual to copy you, to get closer and fall into your orbit. "Hmm," he hums, "same for Four. Ships come in and out of the harbor, but I don't think they do much damage." The calmest he's felt in his entire life is when he's staring up at the sky at night, sand under his feet, and waves crashing in the background. "A friend of mine loved looking at the stars. She never knew any of the constellations, so she'd make up her own with stories to go with them." Mags loved telling him all the stories she made up when she was his age. Even after the stroke took her ability to speak, she'd point up at a constellation and have Finnick retell them to her. "My dad knew the real constellations." There's a small, prideful grin on your face that he doubts you even know is there. But he does. He is very aware of it. "He'd tell them to me whenever we came back from harvesting." "The real constellations, huh?” He glances over his shoulder at the glass door leading inside. The game is down to its last few tributes. No one should come looking for either of you. "How about for every real story you tell me, I tell you a made-up one?" He grins at you, the bar of the balcony digging into his back as he turns around. Odd. He can’t remember the last time he’s been alone with someone—someone other than Mags and Annie—and has kept all of his clothes on. "Won't they miss you in there? I mean you’re definitely the main attraction in every room you're in." You nudge him gently with your elbow, looking up at him through wispy eyelashes. Your eyes are still a little red from your earlier crying, but they’re heavy and focused entirely on him. He's used to people flirting with him. Hell, he does it almost as readily as he breathes. But he isn't used to you flirting with him. That tentative way of yours makes him nervous. It’s nothing he’s used to. It feels too real. "I don't care what they think," he shrugs a shoulder, biting his lip to stop from smiling too broadly, "The real party's out here, anyway." You tilt your head, smiling up at him and his ears go warm. This is probably the fifth time he's talked to you and you've never smiled at him like that before.

“Deal.” You hold up your pinky to him, something so openly childish that he can’t help but laugh. 

“Deal.” He locks his pinky with yours and you nod at each other before dropping your hands.

"You see that up there? Those tiny clusters of stars," he watches your finger draw a W between five stars, "are called Cassiopeia. And those five stars above it are called Cepheus. They were husband and wife, queen and king. Cassiopeia offended Poseidon by saying her daughter, Andromeda, was more beautiful than the sea nymphs—close friends of his. So he punished her by sending a flood and a sea monster that would destroy their country unless they sacrificed Andromeda." Finnick looks from the sky to the side of your face as you continue talking. He follows the line of your jaw up to your mouth and watches as your full lips form the words of your story. The moon is full, the sky is bright, and he's entranced by more than just the stars. “After they died, Zeus put them in the sky together because Cepheus was a descendant of one of Zeus's lovers. A little weird, honestly.” Your face scrunches up in a decidedly cute way at the thought. “Cepheus sits with his scepter, and Cassiopeia sits chained to her throne as a punishment by Poseidon. As if having to sacrifice her daughter wasn’t enough. They’re beautiful, aren’t they?" 

“Yeah.” The yellow lights from inside blanket you from behind, while the moon’s white glare reflects in your eyes. “They are.” You catch him staring and look at him expectantly. You're starting to fidget and he realizes he’s been quiet for a concerning amount of time. “My friend…” he pauses and makes a quick decision, "my friend Mags, she calls that one the Turtle and the Fish. Eros was mischievous and vain, as most gods are. He wanted to show off to a sea nymph, so he made a turtle and a fish fall in love to prove his power transcended species. But fish don't live as long as turtles, and once its lover died, the turtle mourned for one hundred years at the bottom of the sea. Poseidon, who felt his subject's grief, put them together amongst the stars for all eternity." He turns to you and finds you staring at him. "What?" He asks with a laugh, embarrassed for whatever reason. "I know it’s pretty simple compared to yours, but—" He cuts himself off when you smile at him again. "No, I liked it." You nod at your own words like you're agreeing with yourself. "It was sweet. Your Poseidon is way nicer than mine. Maybe you can tell your friend one of my stories. To show her how different they are." You shrug like it's a dumb, throwaway idea, before turning away from him in a haste to look back up at the sky. 

He doesn’t understand. How can you just offer something like that like it’s nothing? You clearly loved your father very much and he picked up on the past tense when you talked about him. These stories are quite personal to you and he had assumed you hadn’t wanted them to be shared, but…Maybe he will tell her. 

“Oh. Good. I just—I’m not much of a storyteller, so…I might’ve completely butchered that.” He swears it sounds much better when he retells it to Mags.

“It was great, Finnick. You were great.” You pout up at him and it’s the most unfair shit Finnick’s ever seen. Made even worse by the fact that you’re defending him. To himself. “Can you tell me another one?” You ask guilelessly, and who is Finnick to say no?

“Yeah. Yeah, of course.”

Present (ii) - Finnick

[ 23 & 24] - District Four 

"Mags: milk and cinnamon," Finnick places two tea cups before the two women, "And, Annie: a spoonful of honey." Mags smiles up at him in thanks as Annie takes a sip. He walks back to the kitchen to pour his own cup. It’s odd. He hadn’t always been a tea drinker. But now he practically puts on a new cup for every occasion, entirely your influence. He rests against the counter, letting it dig into his hip. It wouldn't be long before Snow announced the stipulations for the third Quarter Quell and Finnick can admit in the safety of his own mind that he's nervous. There were whispers among the Capitols and none of it painted a pretty picture. One of his clients informed him about a new Gamemaker, supposedly some kind of creative genius. He rolls his eyes at the thought. Yeah, he bets the guy is absolutely brilliant at torturing children. He drops five sugar cubes into the tea before grabbing a licorice root to stir it with. He joins them on the couch, staring at the sliced berries floating in his cup. There's something in the air. Word travels fast in close circles and it's no secret that there are more and more riots breaking out in the districts. Katniss and Peeta's win is still fresh on everyone's tongue. Snow has stayed quiet and with the Quarter Quell on the horizon, Finnick knows it—he can feel it in the atoms of his very being that it's going to end poorly. Or at the very least, worse than normal. What fresh hell will Snow come up with this time? Snow appears before a cheering crowd, foreboding even through the TV. "Ladies and gentlemen, this is the seventy-fifth year of The Hunger Games. And it was written in the charter of The Games that every twenty-five years, there would be a Quarter Quell to keep fresh for each new generation the memory of those who died in the uprising against The Capitol." He places his cup on the table and leans forward, elbows on his knees. "Each Quarter Quell is distinguished by Games of a special significance. And now on this, the seventy-fifth anniversary of our defeat of the rebellion, we celebrate the third Quarter Quell," Mags grabs onto his arm, frail fingers gripping his wrist. He wonders if she can feel the pulsing of his rapid heartbeat, "as a reminder that even the strongest cannot overcome the power of The Capitol. On this, the third Quarter Quell Games the male and female Tributes are to be reaped from the existing pool of Victors in each district." Annie lets out a blood-curdling scream and it echoes past Finnick's ears. Her glass shatters on the ground and scalding tea splashes on his feet. He doesn't flinch. Normally, whenever Annie got like this, he would comfort her—talk her through it, but he can't move. The tributes will be reaped from the existing pool of victors and all of the victors of District Four are in this room. Mags’s physical state and Annie’s mental state guarantee one thing: regardless of who gets picked, they won't survive it. He'll be losing someone either way, and that's if he survives. If he survives, because Finnick is the only male victor for Four. There's no doubt, no one volunteering for him. He will be reaped and that, that was just— He rubs at his eyes with the base of his palms, fighting back a migraine. He makes a mental list: he'll be picked, Johanna and Blight will be picked, Chaff will be picked and— His hands move to pull at his roots. There are only two female victors in Eleven. There are only two, but Seeder loves you like she raised you herself. There's still hope, still a chance that you won't be picked, that she'll take your place if you're reaped. You'll be safe. And then, he remembers: Seeder is a mother, she's a wife. There are people that need her. He won't put it past Snow to rig the outcome for Eleven. He'll put Seeder's name in twice and pat himself on the back for seemingly ensuring your freedom. When, in reality, he's only ensured that you'll be in the arena. 

Finnick knows this because he knows you. Better than he knows anyone, better than he knows himself. He knows that you're brave, that you're stubborn enough to put a cabezon to shame, that you're stupidly compassionate. He knows that you'll never be able to live with yourself if you don't volunteer in her place. 

His head falls to the back of the couch. That's one thing he and Snow have in common, the only thing. Their love has damned you. Annie is mumbling to herself, having screamed herself hoarse at this point. But she keeps making jerking movements as if she wants to run. He steals a few breaths, taking a moment to gather himself—his fears, his hopes, his anger—he gathers it all and stores it away. "C'mon, Annie. Let's go outside for a walk." A stroll along the shoreline usually calms her down and he gets the allure. At least with the cooling breeze and the ocean mist from crashing waves, Finnick can close his eyes and pretend to be someone else. Someone unburdened with the fact that Snow was right, they are more similar than he'd like to admit. Because Seeder may have a family that relies on her, but Finnick can't find it in himself to care. He'd put her in the arena himself if it meant your safety. He stands, stepping around shards of glass and pools of cooling tea, pulling Annie up with him. He doesn't get far before Mags grabs his hand. She's worried, he can see it in her frown. She has every right to be. “I'm,” not fine, far from it, “right here, Mags. Don't worry about me.” He leaves behind Mags's concern and the sound of Caesar Flickerman's excited voice recounting Snow's speech. He pinches the skin between his thumb and index finger, pressing down until it hurts. Then he presses down until the muscle throbs. The sea breeze hits him in the face when he opens the door and he thinks. The boat is sinking and he can only swim for so long.

-

A/N: Side note, that was "stubborn enough to put a bull to shame" but I figured Finnick wouldn't know enough about bulls to know they're stubborn. So I picked the fish equivalent of a bull.

#the hunger games #hunger games catching fire #hunger games fanfiction #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair fanfic #finnick x reader #finnick odair #and they'd find us in a week

[taechaos]

hey! How are you, baby? Well, I saw an anonymous asking for jealous nerd oc. So, here is a scenario - a typical pick me girl being obsessed with Jeongguk and stalking him around, dressing up for him, blah blah. And when Jeongguk joined the lecture on someday (a miracle), he gets the pick me girl as his seat/project partner. When he tells the oc, she gets a bit jealous, noticing this, Jeongguk teases her further by saying how cute/sexy the pick me girl is and how breathtaking she looks when she ties her hair up.

(THIS PART IS TOTALLY OPTIONAL)

Bonus- TaeTae coming to rescue and flirting with the oc in front of Jeongguk to make him jealous and saying the exact words Jeongguk said about the pick me girl.

(Btw I claim myself as 🍯anon)

ok so i wrote this a LONG ASS time ago but i never posted it cuz of the hiatus but here you go if you're still here honey anon💀💀💀

The song that plays in Jungkook's headphones is nothing short of cheesy by his standards, but it makes sense as to why you'd send it to him to brighten up his morning; it's sweet and romantic. You know he's cranky when he wakes up early, and somehow found it to be the perfect time to host a listening party of your playlist with him.

It only helps with his frown that ceases when he sits in the back row of the lecture hall, his seatmate not on his mind as he focuses on the music that he would shut down instantly had it not been you that sent it to him. You don't have a morning lecture today, but you're awake nonetheless to virtually accompany him. It's a thoughtful gesture, so he bobs his head along to the beat of falling for you by peachy.

So cheesy, he thinks with a scrunch of his nose, though his lips reluctantly tug up to a small smile.

The volume is not too loud in his ears, just enough to relax as he lays his head on the desk with his forearms as a pillow. It's peaceful, relating to the lyrics that you specifically chose for him to listen to. It's like a constant reminder of your relationship, and warmth fills his chest though his exterior shows nothing of such. He experiences the bliss internally and dims his eyes like he's been wanting to ever since he opened them half an hour ago. His comfortable attire allows him to stretch his limbs, perfectly positioned for his nap.

He drifts off easily before the professor shows up, his phone waiting in his fist to boom with the alarm by the end of the lesson.

It's not the default ringtone that jolts him awake, but the gentle shake of his shoulder. He blinks drowsily and slowly sits up, already irritated by the abrupt awakening when he sees the source. It's a girl who has her brown hair up in a messy bun, smiling down at him as she takes her hand off him. Her clothing is similar to his: loose and dark like a pajama set. He can't recall if he's ever seen her through his blurry vision.

"We were dismissed early," she explains the emptied room when he looks around after lowering his headphones to his neck.

He merely nods and rubs his eyes as he stands while clutching the sling of his bag. "Thanks," he rasps and takes on a slow pace while heading to the exit. He doesn't look back at her when she follows him from behind.

"I'm Yuna, by the way," she confidently tells his back.

"Mhm." His voice is gruff and he wants nothing more than to fall back asleep. He tries to remember in his sleepy daze if you have a lecture soon. Maybe you'll let him nap in your dorm.

The two students are out of the room when she peeps, "You're Jungkook, right?"

"Yes." He trudges to the gates of the building.

"Did you hear about the group project?" She walks beside him as he shakes his head. "We were assigned just now. It's in pairs."

"Thanks for letting me know."

"Yeah, sure, no problem," she chuckles. They pass all the roaming students in the hall just before slipping past the doors. A soft breeze wafts over Jungkook's face, and it feels so nice that his footsteps slow down just to enjoy it longer. She climbs down the short set of stairs with him, matching his speed as she offers, "wanna be my partner?"

The questions prompts him to finally turn to observe her. He cocks a brow with narrowed eyes; he has to relate her appearance to her intelligence. Always judge a book by its cover. "Are you good at the course?"

"Pfft," she rolls her eyes with a teasing smile, but when she notices his serious look, she hesitantly answers, "Yeah. Kind of?"

His tongue pokes at his cheek in thought. Kind of good isn't fit for his standards; he needs an excellent grade. "Does this project affect my GPA?"

"Nah, I mean, by like .5%."

"Pass." He aims to walk past her, but she blocks his path with a scoff.

"Dude, I'm not that bad. I can totally get us a full grade."

"Have you ever gotten one?"

"Yeah!"

"Fine."

A triumphant smile grows on her face before she takes out her phone from the pocket of her sweatpants. "Let's exchange numbers."

————

"Fucking hell," Jungkook groans to himself when another notification dings from his phone. It's been a few days since his first encounter with Yuna, and she's been relentless with her texts to become something more than partners.

He's lying down on your bed while waiting for you to return from your study session with your other nerd friends, and even his phone can't distract him from his impatience. He can't even watch a video in peace.

She's sent him a hundred memes by now, and he can't even bring himself to wonder why she hasn't run out of them by now because even the thought of Yuna fills him with dread. He ignores her as long as the messages don't include any information regarding their task. As if she isn't annoying enough, her memes aren't even funny. Only one or two have made him release a breath more forcefully through his nose.

yuna: yo dude

yuna: you play league of legends?

He usually swipes the notifications away from his screen without reading any of her texts, but the mention of the game has him frowning.

Jungkook: how do u know that

yuna: i saw ur liked tweet lol

Jungkook: u follow my twitter?

yuna: image.jpg

He blinks at his phone until the image loads, and his brows slightly raise when he sees the screenshot of her rank: diamond bordered. He's a rank lower—platinum—but even that took a lot of time to reach. He's more envious than impressed.

yuna: yeah lol

yuna: ur retweets are funny

He closes the messaging app to return to his video until another notification pops up.

yuna: u wanna 1v1?

yuna: i wanna make u cry

A scoff resounds in the room. Like he would walk all the way to his dorm to play one game. He resumes the Overwatch stream.

yuna: ur probably silver lol

yuna: just one game man cmon

yuna: unless ur too pussy lmfao

Yeah, he would.

————

It was only out of mere curiosity that Jungkook played against Yuna, but it was the choking defeat that drove him to keep going. They played six matches until he got too riled up from her chat and left.

yuna_not_mercy: u should just stick to playing support

yuna_not_mercy: ur fr losing to a girl LMAO

yuna_not_mercy: does ur gf play the game

yuna_not_mercy: maybe she can be your support

yuna_not_mercy: like every other girl who plays this game

jk97SK: do u ever shut the fuck up on god

When he plays with his friends, they usually talk through a group call, but he can't stand her. He only holds back from lashing out for the sake of his grade because she took majority of the work, meaning she can easily mess it up and drag him down with her. Keeping their interactions short and blunt is easy through text, but in real life is another matter.

Avoiding her in lectures is justified, but when she approaches his table with his friends, he can only screw his eyes shut and clench his fists.

"Hey Jungkook," she sits next to him in her usual fit: messy bun and athletic clothes. Jungkook is aware of her good looks, which irritates him further that she's inviting herself to his friend group; he knows Taehyung will keep her here longer. "Did you cry after our game? I didn't mean to go so hard on you."

He rolls his eyes and doesn't bother glancing at her unlike the four other men who curiously eye her. When she notices them, her tone oozes with confidence and charisma, "Hey, I'm Yuna. I'm Jungkook's classmate."

"Well, hello there Yuna. I'm Taehyung," he grins with underlying mischief.

Yoongi stays quiet as Namjoon and Seokjin introduce themselves in a friendly manner. Taehyung does the introduction for Yoongi instead.

"Nice to meet you all." Her smile is wide and bright, her shoulder stubbornly rubbing against Jungkook's despite him constantly shifting to the side.

"It's our pleasure," Taehyung replies. "So what game were you talking about? Without inviting me..."

"League of Legends." She glances at Jungkook who deeply exhales through his mouth, "He was so mad."

"I wasn't mad," he corrects with a seethe, "I was just annoyed because you wouldn't stop bringing up my girlfriend."

"Oh yeah," she smoothly recovers from her blush, "where is she?"

"In a lecture," he murmurs. It's not bright outside where they sit but the sun still lingers in the evening to provide some dim lighting. He's passing time with his friends because someone has ruined every other activity for him. If only he hadn't given her his account's username yesterday, he would have another alternative.

"You play League?" Taehyung diverts the subject.

"Yeah. Valorant and Overwatch as well. I play just about any game, really." Her words are directed at Jungkook, but he doesn't take the bait. He's looking down at his phone from under the table. "Not your typical girl, right? I usually just pass off as one of the boys."

"A lot of girls on campus like gaming, actually," Yoongi chimes in monotonously. He's disinterested in the conversation, but her rambling fascinates him.

"Bro, for real? Link me up with some of them. I barely have any female friends," she laughs despite Yoongi's straight face, "I can't get along with girls; it's like a curse."

"I have the same curse," Namjoon jokes to break some of the tension, and Taehyung and Jungkook chuckle under their breath.

"Bruh," Yuna joins in with the laughter. Before an awkward atmosphere can settle over them, she continues babbling, "I just have no mutual interests with them. They like shopping and manicures and I just like gaming, it's literally all I do. Like I'm sorry, but it's all they talk about."

It's silent apart from her laugh and the crickets. Namjoon is the only one to respond, "Heh, yeah..."

She isn't done with her rant however, "I can only get along with guys, you know? Less dramatic and more fun. I–"

Seokjin holds up a hand to be more polite with his interruption while the rest watch the interaction with their utmost attention, "Excuse me for cutting you off, but you're generalizing a lot here, Yuna. You identify as a woman, no?" She nods with a raised brow. "Then aren't you living proof that not all women are the same, like every other human being? I don't mean to be rude, but you sound extremely biased. You shouldn't be so unkind to your own gender."

She is quick to jump to her defence. "Dude, I'm not saying all women are like that. It's just the majority! My experience, you know? Being feminine is like a badge of honor to these chicks. You see that girl?" she points at a girl in a pleated skirt and blazer walking from a distance, heading this way. "I don't even understand why anyone would even like wearing a skirt, but she would probably gossip about me for not wearing one."

"Would she?" Yoongi mutters when he recognizes you as you near their table. Jungkook's eyes widen before he rushes to sit next to Taehyung, across from Yuna now who's one seat away from Namjoon.

Your eyes light up when you see them more clearly and you quickly jog up to Jungkook. His breath hitches when you immediately hug his back, cheek rubbing against the crook of his neck as you smile. "Kookie!"

His hands latch onto your arms on his chest as he quietly chuckles at your cheerful and hyper greeting. "Hey, baby."

"Hi," you wave to the rest of them. Yoongi rarely ever smiles, so you're slightly surprised to see the sight directed at you—especially when it's so cocky. You glance at the girl who is baffled as she stares at you.

Namjoon and Seokjin wave back at you with casual greetings before Taehyung speaks. "Do you want to sit next to Jungkook?"

"If you don't mind," you flutter your lashes sweetly with your hands still on your boyfriend's shoulders who hold them.

"I don't, but I don't know if Jungkookie would be okay with you sitting on my lap since it's the only available seat–"

"Move."

"Someone oughta teach this boy some manners," Taehyung grumbles as he moves to Jungkook's previous seat so you can claim his. It's warm when you sit, but Jungkook's arm is warmer when he wraps it around your shoulder.

"Hi, I'm Yuna."

The tight smile on her face doesn't ease your reserved stance, but you smile back politely nonetheless and tell her your name. She only nods with pursed lips, as if judging you for merely sitting next to your boyfriend. You shift closer to Jungkook, insecure and put off by the weirdly tense atmosphere.

"So back on topic," she turns to Jungkook, "are we playing League tonight as well?"

"League?" you tilt your head curiously.

"Oh, you wouldn't get it," she dismisses you nonchalantly. "It's a game he and I played together."

"He doesn't play it often," Namjoon tells you for comfort. It only confuses you instead. Is there something you're missing?

Jungkook latches onto that line as an escape. "Yeah, I won't be playing again any time soon, Yuna. Maybe after we finish the project." After the project he won't have a reason to stay as friends with her on any platform, and it's an amazing excuse. His lips involuntarily tug up to a smile at the thought of finally dropping her. You notice with narrowed eyes.

"What project?" you question.

"Just some stupid group task," Jungkook exasperates. "So fucking boring."

"Do you need any help?"

He smiles at your sweet offer. "Maybe you could proofread–"

"No, it's cool," Yuna interjects. "I'm already helping him."

"Oh." Is it just you or does she seem arrogant? From the silence and Jungkook's aggrevated sigh, you assume it's the latter. Why did your boyfriend text you to come here just to sit in awkward silence? You're put off by her stare directed towards him and shuffle even closer to send a message. She doesn't care.

Jungkook doesn't seem to either. Her eyes don't leave him, and he returns her gaze as she takes out her hairtie, both of them knowing full well you're watching. She puts it between her teeth and ties up her loose strands, but stops when he interrupts, "You look better with your hair down."

"Do I?" she drags out and lets her hair down again. You watch the interaction unfold with furrowed brows.

"Yeah. At least I like it better that way."

Are they flirting?

He glances at you and you throw him a warning look. What's with his change in demeanor? It's fine for him to compliment other women, but she doesn't hide her interest in him. She's too appeased by the boost in confidence that she doesn't lack.

She clears her throat and nibbles on her lip. "If we're not playing, then we can work on the project if you want."

"Sure."

Seokjin and Namjoon exchange a look, where the elder is aware of what's happening and irritated and the younger is clueless. But it's Yoongi that speaks up, and the only indication that he's talking to you is by his stare.

"You look better with your hair up."

"Me?" You're startled by his compliment.

"Oh, dude," Taehyung plays along, talking to Yoongi, "imagine watching her tie her hair on her knees. Now that's a sight to behold."

Your eyes grow comically wide, especially when Yoongi nods with a knowing smile. He then asks you, "Can we compare?"

Jungkook's glare throws daggers at the two while you, incredibly confused and lost, use the hairtie on your wrist. All eyes are on you until Yuna intervenes as if they're long-time friends, "She looks like a lost puppy, aww. Stop teasing her, you guys."

"We just like it better that way," Yoongi repeats Jungkook's words. Is this some sort of revenge executed by them in your place?

"I don't think it matters," your boyfriend coolly replies. "She's not trying to look good for you guys."

"Is Yuna trying to look good for you then?" he counters.

"Oh," she laughs, "if he likes it, then I don't mind."

"You want to know what I like, Yuna?"

Your ponytail swings when you turn to Jungkook. Why is everyone teasing each other? You can't decide whether you should focus on the two men's greedy looks or the girl who is hellbent on getting into your boyfriend's pants.

"I want to know it all," she says shamelessly.

Okay, maybe she's just looking for validation. It's fine. You don't need to lash out.

"Like your loose shirts, how little they leave to the imagination–"

Yoongi casually stands up and nods at you to follow him. You're baffled and immediately shake your head; why would you leave him alone with her? He raises a challenging eyebrow and you throw him a perplexed look.

"Come," he mouths silently before walking off. Taehyung follows, and you look around you to see Seokjin beckon you to leave while Namjoon just sits there, trying to piece the puzzle by himself in his own world.

You huff and abruptly trudge off to their path. Taehyung waits for you to catch up and slings an arm around your shoulder, the faint voices still seducing one another. "You are so gullible."

Yoongi slows his pace to turn to you. "Why do you give him a reaction when he's obviously trying to mess with you?"

"It's honestly sad to watch," Taehyung agrees.

"What?" you question incredulously. "I know what he's trying to do, it's just that Yuna is way too into it. I don't want it to keep going while I'm standing here."

"Jungkook doesn't like her and he's probably backed off by now," Yoongi reassures. "If you stayed, then you would've bashed her and he would start stressing over his stupid project. It's not worth causing a scene over."

"But isn't she cute when she's mad?" Taehyung retracts his arm to squeeze your cheeks and all three of you come to stop when you push him off. "It's like watching a chihuahua bark at a bulldog and somehow win."

Yoongi chuckles to himself as you roll your eyes. "It's not cute. I'm tired of his antics."

"It's fun when you do it back, no?"

"I didn't even do anything."

They exchange a look before Taehyung says, "That's what friends are for, bestie. We'll keep doing it until he gets tired as well." You click your tongue, and in a matter of seconds, he's shoved back away from you with the assailant gritting, "Keep your distance."

"This is our cue to leave," Yoongi tells his friend who struggles out of your boyfriend's grip on his collar before hopping next to him and escaping the scene rather inelegantly.

When you peek at the bench, you don't see Yuna there and instead notice Seokjin presumably explain what just happened to an intently listening Namjoon. It almost humors you.

The aggressive behavior just a moment before is gone in an instant when he raises his hands and tries to explain himself. "Before you say anything, I hate her and I was just teasing–"

You put a finger over his lips. "I know, baby, and if you try to tease me again I will actually sit on Taehyung's lap next time."

He opens his mouth to argue, but backs down and purses his lips before a word can come out. He submits instead. He'll give you the victory.

"Fine, fucking fair game."

#textbook love #jungkook imagines #bts imagines #bts scenarios #jeon jungkook #bts x reader #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader

[ticketstomydaydreams]

HOME

(All We Have: Part One)

Part Two

Colson x Female Reader

Summary: You and Colson are close friends and he invites you to move in to his house while you work on his record together

Word count: 1,580

Feels: Friendship Fluff for now

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, cursing, mentions of feeling depressed

Companion playlist:

Machine Gun Kelly - Home

Sia - Dressed in Black 

The Beatles - With a Little Help from My Friends

A/N: Throughout the series there will be changes to the timing of real life events like the pandemic, the release of certain songs etc. There's certain things I want to incorporate into the series, like particular events in MGKs life and lyrics from songs, so some stuff will get moved around to fit in to the story ✌️

______

It had been a long evening working in Colson’s home studio, The Boulevard, with him and the gang on the upcoming Tickets to my Downfall album. To say your schedule was busy was an understatement, but Colson had insisted you get involved with the new material after the success of your work together on Hotel Diablo.

Composing music was your main gig, you had an ear for melody and your passion for writing meant you always had lyrics swirling around your head. You had a penchant for dark and melancholy lyrics, finding music to be a source of therapy for you. It was something you and Colson had instantly bonded over. He'd bugged you to list some of the stuff you'd written that he'd know and you had gained his professional respect immediately.

He always kept a close eye on your work, ever the supportive friend and had laid claim to your piece ‘Glass House’ as soon as he'd heard it.

______

2019

You were sitting crossed legged on the sofa in your lounge, gently strumming your guitar and gazing off into space and mumbling to yourself, as you worked out some lyrics in your head. Colson was lying on the floor by your feet, scrolling through his phone with earphones in, a blunt in his hand that he occasionally passed up to you. This was a common set up, you found it easier to write in the peace and quiet and Colson has gradually started hanging out at your place more when he needed to focus on his own writing.

"All alone in the glass house, lie awake til the sun's out, pink sky when you come down…"

"Throw me in the damn flames, Bury me in gold chains, throw me in the damn flames…"

You'd started singing out loud, occasionally stopping to scribble down lyrics and make adjustments, not noticing that Colson had removed his earbuds to listen to you

" Dude, that's hard, like, beautiful… " His comment made you jump slightly, you hadn't seen him propping himself up on his elbows, watching you intently "Sing that last bit again"

You blushed slightly, his opinion was always important to you, and started singing. He muttered to himself as you did, then pointed at you "Again!"

Letting out a little laugh and rolling your eyes, you sang again

"Throw me in the damn flames, bury me in gold chains, throw me in the damn flames"

Colson's voice met yours at the end of the line, rapping softly "I'm waiting on the rain to come and wash it all away"

You locked eyes, smiling and he sat upright. "Dude, Im'a need that hook! That spoke to me right there, I've think got something for it that I've been stuck on"

He looked so excited, your heart did a little flip. You'd seen that writing this album had taken it out of him, he'd been digging deep and really going through it emotionally. You could tell it was going to be raw and special from what you'd heard already.

He sat forward and moved the guitar from your lap so he could lean his arms on your knees and looked up at you shooting you puppy dog eyes with those baby blues "Pretty please Y/N"

You laughed and ruffled his hair, "Anything for you Col" Honestly, it'd be an honour to be part of such a personal project, you thought

He wrapped his arms round you and squeezed,

"You're a legend, kid. Get a sample recorded and send it to me!" He grabbed your guitar off the sofa and whipped back around, strumming a few chords as he carried on talking with his back to you, leaning against the sofa "This is gonna be fire, you always just hit the nail on the head, I swear it's like you're in my head sometimes"

You smiled, seeing the wave of motivation that had struck your friend. You felt so lucky to have a friend who was not only so inspiring, but one who 'got it', who understood that music was a form of release. Someone who recognised that it was important to feel these things, rather than encourage you to push dark thoughts away with toxic positivity.

He’d pushed to use your original samples on his record, but as much as you loved writing and singing, you were a behind the scenes kind of gal which had always suited you just fine. Naomi, a mutual friend of you both, came onboard to record them with him. A decision that turned out to be golden… 'Death in my Pocket' would be born not long after, with Naomi doing your lyrics such beautiful justice yet again, perfectly pairing with Colson's emotional rapping.

______

From then on Colson had kept you close to his recording. You'd been helping here and there with composition and notation, but your production skills were what was taking centre stage during the most recent sessions. You had a long list of projects you were working through, leaving you chained to your equipment most days and nights anyway so throwing more music into your workload didn't seem like much of a big deal. In all honesty, the chaos of Colson’s studio and the revolving door of personalities that were in and out constantly, made it one of the most fun places to be. You loved what you did for a living and it never really felt like work Even though the guys were a real handful at times, you kind of enjoyed being the studio 'Mami' as they often affectionately referred to you

Everything had wrapped up for the evening and the guys had migrated back into the house. You could hear from the raucous that the drinks must have started flowing freely. You were saving your work and packing up your stuff when Colson bursts back into the studio and throws himself in a chair, spinning it around with his arms in the air.

"You staying for drinks Y/N?" he grins at you, clearly hyper and in party mode

You let out a big sigh "Urgh, I'd love to but I have an early start tomorrow. I finally managed to get an apartment viewing. I swear I've looked at a hundred places now, they get snapped up so quickly.. I've only got a few weeks left on my lease as well"

“Ah, that sucks kid” Colson empathises, spinning his chair again before an idea strikes him “Wait! Why don’t you move in here for a bit until you find a place? The guest room is pretty much your room anyway, the amount you crash here”

You laugh “This is true, that mattress is so much better than mine! Aw Col, that would honestly be so helpful, the stress of finding a place when I’m this busy is killing me. I don't know… You sure the guys won’t mind?”

Colson scoffs “Why would they mind? You practically live here anyway” he teases “I’m sure they’ll be just as stoked as I am at the thought of you joining the madhouse for a while”

Before you have a chance to respond, he stands up and throws his arms around you, squashing you into him tightly “That’s it decided Roomie. Another song in the bag and a new housemate, plenty to celebrate tonight!”

Wriggling out of his tight grasp, you laugh and in a deep voice shout “let’s goooooo” mocking his signature catchphrase. He flips you his middle finger and says “Kitchen, now”

Once you’re in the kitchen, Colson heads to get you a drink and grabs one himself. Appearing back at your side, he passes you your beer and then shouts out to the rest of the group,

“YO, meet our latest housemate, Y/N is moving in. LET’S FUCKING GOOOOO”

Everyone in the kitchen lets out a big cheer, clearly pleased as he said they would be. Colson bends down and picks you up, swinging you around in a circle, spilling your drinks all over the both of you as you shout his name in mock annoyance, between giggles.

“I hope you know what you’re letting yourself in for” Rook laughs, clinking his drink against your now empty beer bottle once your feet are back on the floor

“It’ll be good to have another pair of hands around here, looking after you lot” Ashleigh chimes in, laughing and slapping Slim away as he pulls her hood up over her head, covering her eyes

It had been 5 years since you'd made the decision to move to LA, barely knowing a soul. You'd worked several jobs, jumped from place to place, worked your ass off to catch your break in the music business, sometimes feeling like the grind would never get you anywhere.

There had been times where you felt like you couldn't carry on, aching from trying to keep pace. The dream had felt like it was turning into a nightmare, as you tried to make ends meet, feeling so lonely in this enormous city.. but eventually you'd made these amazing friends who made you feel so safe and loved.

Now, there were times you had to pinch yourself just to make sure it was all real.

As you shake off some of the beer that's dripping from your hands, you look around the kitchen. Taking in the crazy, loveable bunch before you, your new housemates, you are filled with gratitude. You finally felt like you were exactly where you were supposed to be…

Home.

______

❌❌ Lace up!

#mgk fluff #colson baker x reader #mgk imagine #mgk x reader #machine gun kelly imagine #colson baker imagine #machine gun kelly x reader #colson x reader #mgk fic #machine gun kelly #fandom #fanfic #fanfiction #mgk fanfiction #colson baker

[alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom]

THE MASTERPIECE: CHAPTER 1/5

Modern!IVAR x Reader x Modern!HVITSERK

a/n: This MASTERPIECE was so much fun. It was such an honor to do this with you @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie, you are so talented! Every hour writing and editing was definitely worth it! Thank you!

Spotify playlist: here (only for those who like latin urban music)

Words: 1913

Warnings: strong language

Summary: Ivar and Hvitserk had always prided themselves in being the sons of Ragnar Lothbrok. They had a comfortable life full of everything they wanted: houses, cars, money, and the most beautiful women. And with all of that came the security of always having the upper hand. But what happens when a bewitching girl from Ragnar’s past arrives into their lives claiming his fortune?

~~·······~~

An appointment with a lawyer was pending. He refused to give any other information on the phone about the reasons, so she had to meet him in his office.

Y/N had a hunch it was going to be a waste of her time. So out of spite, she was the last one to arrive. Not that she was ever on time. Punctuality was never one of her strong suits, but she didn't care about what others thought. She was so over their meaningless gossip.

Y/N stepped into the room and all heads turned to look at her, yet nobody knew who she was and she didn’t recognize anyone either so she excused herself and went out again. She must have been given the wrong room number.

The lawyer got up from his desk and called her name. He intercepted her midway and accompanied her back inside.

She looked exasperated; she even refused to take her coat off or sit down. Instead, she gazed around the room and noticed two young men out of the four reunited whispering emphatically at each other.

The lawyer thanked everyone for their presence and began reading from a long document.

Ivar was staring at her, wondering who the fuck she was and what she was doing at the reading of his father’s last will and testament. He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t realize what the lawyer was saying.

"...and it is my last will that all of my houses, company shares, private artworks collection, and the entirety of my capital goes to Y/N Y/L/N.

To my sons, please, forgive me. I hope you will understand my decision and in time come to accept it. I love you all.

Signed,

Ragnar Lothbrok."

Her face froze in a gesture of confusion and old memories best left unstirred popped into her mind.

There was an oppressive stillness in the room. Everyone was twisting and turning in their seats but nobody dared to break the silence.

“That’s a mistake, right?” Y/N heard one of them say in a quiet voice after some time.

"Ma'am, could you come up to the front and sign the document, please? Ma’am?”

Yet Y/N could not move. She’d heard the lawyer’s words loud and clear but the gears in her head were still turning, in an effort to process their meaning. It couldn’t be true. Ragnar simply left after using her. Surely, he would never leave her in possession of all that he owned.

"No!" Hvitserk jumped up from the chair, shouting and banging his fist on the table.

The lawyer winced in fear. He knew of the infamous temper of all the sons of Ragnar.

"Who is she? What is she doing here?” Hvitserk turned to face Y/N. “Hey, you! How do you know my father?"

She stared blankly out of the window and didn’t answer.

He snarled his lip in disgust as his anger overtook him. “Hey, are you deaf, woman?! Who. Are. You?! Answer me!”

“Ma’am, please. The quicker you sign these documents, the quicker you can leave.” The lawyer urged her with his eyes as if he knew that a discussion like this could only end with one – or several – of them in jail.

She finally found it in her to separate her feet from their spot on the ground and move forward towards the big oak desk. As she walked in between a row of confused angry gazes, she couldn’t help but remember Ragnar’s smiling face.

These men gathered around looked as strong, proud, and reckless as he had been and it was at that moment that she understood who they were. They had to be his sons. They didn’t seem like the kind of people you would want to mess with.

And yet, she wasn’t exactly afraid of them. Fear was not what paralyzed her body; it was the realization that everything about her life was about to drastically change.

“Father... father would never do something like this,” Ivar stated in a harsh voice aimed at the lawyer. “Check that testament again!” Ivar was sure that if his mother, Aslaug, were alive, she would've threatened to take his license away and ruin his reputation if he didn’t find a way to revert Ragnar’s will.

In a split second, the room broke into protests, their contained displeasure bursting through at last.

Yet their angered voices only faded into the back of her ears as she came to understand that this could be her opportunity to get even. She slid the pen against the ivory-white sheet of paper and with a swish of her wrist she sealed all of their fates.

The brothers argued for long minutes with the lawyer but there was nothing he could do. It was beyond his power.

And as they complained, she slipped out of the room quietly.

Ivar noticed and tried to follow her in a haste, but she was already gone. He looked out the glass window of the lawyer’s office and saw her crossing the bustling street. If they didn’t hurry, they would lose her in the crowd forever.

"Come on, let's talk to her!" He urged the others.

Björn looked at his younger sibling and brooded his forehead. "No, let it be. Father wanted it this way, so we have to accept it.” He didn’t seem exactly happy about it but his tone still spoke of resignation.

Ubbe turned to Björn and nodded begrudgingly. "Yes, he’s right. It won't work, she already signed it. It’s a legitimate legal contract.”

"Hvitserk?! You know that's not fair!"

"You’re right, Ivar. She can’t get away with this! And you-” He pointed at Björn and Ubbe. “-if you don't want to fight, then we will. But don't expect us to give you back your part of the inheritance if we succeed.”

“It’s not like we need it, baby brother.” Björn shot back. “My business with Ubbe is thriving. If you want to keep living under our father’s shadow, that’s your problem.”

“As for us,” Ubbe continued his brother’s train of thought. “We’ll try to make our own path as father did once... and you two should do the same. Maybe this is for the best...”

Hvitserk and Ivar exchanged a glance, silently acknowledging that their brothers were crazy and that they were on their own on this one. They ran out of the office as fast as Ivar’s legs would allow them.

~~·······~~

“Hey! You! Hey, stop.” Y/N ignored Hvitserk’s yelling and picked up the pace but Hvitserk grabbed her arm very rudely.

"Touch me again and you’ll know just what I’m capable of, pretty boy.”

Her confidence intimidated him and he took a meek step back.

“Could we talk to you, maybe?” Ivar’s tone was much softer, and she seemed to be considering it.

“No.” She changed her mind in a split second and started walking hurriedly away from them again.

“We just want-“

“Wait!” Ivar was stopped by Hvitserk’s hand on his chest. “I have a better idea. Let’s go get the car.”

Ivar realized immediately that his brother was probably planning something insidious and he decided to give him a chance.

~~·······~~

They followed her to her home and parked at the end of the street, hoping that the massive tree in front of her house would camouflage them from her view.

“And what are we going to do now?” Ivar leaned his head on the headrest and looked beyond annoyed. They had been sitting in the car for at least two hours without making any progress.

“We’ll stay here until we find out who she is and what she wants. So, relax brother, and give it some time.”

“That doesn’t make any fucking sense and I’m hungry.” Ivar had run out of patience. “Let’s try to do this some other way.”

As they spoke, Y/N dimmed the lights inside of her house. The outline of her body was the only thing they could see. She went from one room to the next, until she sat down in one place – probably her living room – and stayed there for a while.

“She’s turning on the lights again. Look! She’s going out of the house. Duck!” They slipped down their seats and lowered their heads.

“I fucking hope you have a better plan than hiding in plain sight, Hvitserk.”

His brother frowned, his forehead creasing deeply and Ivar knew then that he had no actual plan. That was the face he made whenever he was trying to come up with something on the spot.

Ivar rolled his eyes and clenched his jaw.

“She must’ve left already... Let me go near the house. Maybe I can spot something through the windows that can help us figure out who she is.” Hvitserk muttered only half-convinced.

“Fine. But be careful! We don’t want her to find out we’re here.”

“Dude, of course.” He replied a little insulted.

Hvitserk walked up to her home with his back hunched over, trying his best to be invisible. He reached the walls of her house and slid flush to them until he reached the window. He peeped through it, trying to see what was inside.

Her home was small and humble but clean and neatly organized. She had an awful number of plants and herbs spread on various shelves as well as some lighters, smoking pipes, and what looked like a strange strain of weed, at least from that distance. So she wasn’t thatuptight after all, Hvitserk smirked cheekily.

There were dusty old books stacked on piles with weird unreadable symbols on their spine, and there were some regular documents on her kitchen table but he couldn’t make out the small letters.

Hvitserk narrowed his eyes, they probably contained a few answers. He took out his phone to snap a picture of the papers.

At that moment the front door opened and Y/N crossed her arms stiffly across her chest.

The flash of Hvitserk’s phone went off accidentally and blinded her momentarily which only made her look angrier.

“Well, wouldn’t you rather come in?” She challenged him in a sarcastic voice.

Hvitserk was pissed off and startled, but most of all, he was embarrassed, judging by the way his high cheeks flushed with blood.

“What? You thought you were being so stealthy? You guys aren’t exactly subtle...”

“We just, uh- we just want to get to know you better.” Hvitserk cleared his throat and gave her an improvised smile.

“Oh, is that so?” Y/N’s eyes twinkled for a second and her shoulders relaxed a little. “Well... If that’s the case, handsome... then you should ask me out.”

She sauntered forward to caress his chin with her index finger seductively. She flashed him a smile and Hvitserk, ever the ladies' man raised an eyebrow and smirked back, unable to help himself. All thoughts about his mission had left his head and were replaced with the signals his brain was giving him for him to notice the light caress of her fingers, her body inches away from his, and her tantalizing lips so close to his face.

“Or... you could just fuck off!” Y/N shoved him, sending him tumbling backward until his ass hit the grass, then she smacked the door on Hvitserk’s face with a smug smile. “Asshole.”

It’s this easy to fool a guy. She thought with amusement.

#ivar the boneless #ivar ragnarsson #vikings #hbovikings #hvitserk #hvitserk ragnarsson #ubbe #ubbe ragnarsson #björn ironside #björn ragnarsson #ivar the boneless x reader #hvitserk x reader

[ughgclden]

some very late pairings for the lovely @izzyneedsabreak ,, thanks sm for the request i hope it makes you smile <33 this is going to get long, so let's go!!

for dead poets society, i'd pair you with...

(romantically)

you and charlie would just make so much sense to me as a couple in that you both seem to have chaotic vibes; charlie more so, obviously, but you work together well in that he manages to pull that chaos out of you. it's not uncommon for the two of you to be found talking animatedly to one another about something, perhaps plotting some sort of late night adventure, or one of his 'smart' ideas to rebel against the iron grip of hellton.

charlie can be quite soft with you though, often when it's just the two of you alone. he'll sneak you into his dorm at least once a week - he kicks cameron out and tells him to sleep on the floor of meeks and pitts' dorm, cameron isn't happy - and will let you lay against his chest as he plays with your hair and listens to you talk about your day. it's nice to see the quieter, more subdued side of charlie dalton, although the loud and obnoxious side is just as lovely.

supports you and your acting so much. you thought he was supportive of neil? it's ten times that. he sits front row for every show he can, bringing a bouquet of your favourite flowers to hand to you the moment you get off stage. before you can even get a word out, he's rattling off so many compliments and praises, genuinely so proud of you and your talent.

he would beg you to come to dead poets meetings and then show you off to the rest of the boys, even if they'd already met you ten times before. he'll endlessly praise you, shooting down any teasing that may come his way. he also definitely recites love poems to you dramatically, kneeling down and grabbing your hands as he tries not to break his serious act.

it's no secret that charlie loves hugs. loves them. he'll pull you into them whenever he can; either grabbing your hands and pulling you into his arms, or wrapping himself around you from behind, even just enveloping you in a hug and refusing to let go. he sways from side to side and hums under his breath.

makes playlists for you with his favourite songs that make him think of you. he pretends not to be flustered when he presents you with it.

you also become the muse of the occasional poems he attempts to write, claiming you can't tell the others or it'll ruin his reputation (it's obvious they're all about you anyways)

and

(platonically)

you and neil would obsess over musical theatre together, and would definitely go to each others' shows whenever possible. you're both constantly singing the soundtracks to your current favourite musicals, something both charlie and todd pretend to hate but actually think is quite entertaining to watch.

you both just get each other; when charlie introduces you to the poets you instantly click, getting along with each other really well (which leaves charlie feeling quite jealous, but shh). you're quite similar in terms of personality and balance each other out well - neil thinks he's found a great friend in you.

doing nothing with neil is a must. you'll spend time just talking about nothing to each other - you tell him stories about charlie, your other friends, your life, and he'll tell you stories in return. you both like sharing funny stories about charlie so that you can embarrass him later on.

neil confides in you quite a lot. not that he doesn't trust the other poets, but he likes that he can get an 'outside' perspective of someone who isn't one of the welton boys. he hopes you feel the same way about him.

writing to him over the summer to ensure he's doing okay, especially considering his situation with his parents.

constant teasing from him about yours and charlie's relationship - any chance this boy has to make a sly comment or quick remark, he's jumping at the chance. it's his favourite hobby at this point.

for the marauders, i'd pair you with...

(romantically)

you and moony are a match made in heaven. remus is absolutely smitten with you, and it's not hard to tell. the marauders are often quite a chaotic bunch and as much as he love them, he also adores the peace and tranquility your presence brings him. suddenly he feels like he doesn't have to go a hundred miles a minute and can take things one step at a time, enjoying the little things with you.

he'll usually read to you, picking your favourite books and letting the words fall from his lips softly as you both curl up together under a blanket late at night in the unusually empty common room, appreciating how cosy and full of love the situation feels. he takes breaks between lines to kiss the top of your head or temple before reading on.

remus appreciates you most after a full moon; you're always the one person he wants to see. you know exactly how to care for him, not making him feel incapable, but also being mindful of how tiring it can be and just allowing him to take time to feel like himself again. he likes that you're more than happy to patch him up, but you don't show him intense pity or guilt, just a desire to make him feel okay again.

this isn't to say your relationship is always soft and sappy, no. the amount of times you've been involved in their pranks and schemes is impressive at this point. they always end with remus grabbing your hand and dragging you along as you run down the corridors, avoiding whichever poor soul had the misfortune of being on the receiving end. muffled giggles are all that can be heard for long after you've found safety.

always wants to be your partner in lessons when possible. before the professor has even finished their sentence, he's locking eyes with you in a silent question. of course, you always want to work with him too. it's the perfect balance of getting shit done and having fun.

a lot of trips to hogsmeade. in the colder months, he'll wrap one of his scarfs around your neck and shove one of his hats onto your head, holding you close as you walk through the streets.

small forms of intimacy; thumbs stroking cheekbones, fingers threading through hair, soft smiles and whispered words. remus loves it all.

and

(platonically)

remus isn't at all surprised at how close you are with james, in fact he expected it from the moment you two met. you and james are good at keeping up with one another, always seemingly on each other's wavelength.

no matter your house, james insists you support gryffindor when a quidditch match is on. he doesn't want to hear any excuses. and if you aren't kitted out in face paint, holding a banner and cheering him on? he'll put on the most over-dramatic, disappointed display you've ever seen. he only stops once you beg for his forgiveness through rolled eyes, and he'll announce with a sigh that his heart will one day mend.

helping james out with his crush on lily is very common; this boy will come to you for advice on anything regarding her, because "you know how this works, you're in a relationship aren't you?" he's totally useless, as endearing as it is, and you and remus have to work together to come up with plans that won't end in embarrassment for your hopeless friend. and when they do get together? double dates of course!

gives amazing birthday and christmas presents. there's something you mentioned you wanted in passing? it's guaranteed james will be presenting it to you with a knowing grin. this boy is great at gift giving.

studying with him is actually quite productive; with you he manages to not get distracted, and you can both get your homework done amidst some friendly chatter and quiet music. he makes sure you take breaks often enough.

very protective. if anyone ever upsets you, whilst remus is comforting you it's guaranteed james will be 'taking care of it' for you. you're his best friend, and he'll be damned if he lets anyone hurt his best friend.

and for six of crows, i'd pair you with...

(romantically)

god nina would adore you. she thinks you're the most perfect person to walk the planet - it was love at first sight 100%. nina's quite a bubbly person, as are you, so there's never a dull moment or a lull in conversation; you always find something to be talking about, something to be doing.

this girl loves being near you, knowing you're close to her and with her. she'll often just take your hand in hers, or rest a head on your shoulder, just to remind herself that you're with her and she's the luckiest person.

she'd love to tell you stories about her heists with the crows just to see the look of wonder and excitement on your face as she recalled some of their greatest ideas, although he made an effort to ensure you never got caught up in their plans and ideas - she wanted to keep you safe, and she promised herself she would.

it doesn't matter how long you two have been together, nina flirts with you like she's still trying to win you over. every morning she'll wake you up with a flirtatious comment and often sends you winks and pick up lines throughout the day, even when it isn't the most appropriate of times.

a lot of bakery dates. nina has an extreme sweet tooth, so going out for hot drinks and waffles is a must in your relationship. she enjoys the calm it brings her.

sings to you quite often, despite the fact that her voice isn't quite the best you've ever heard. if it made you smile, she'd sing a thousand notes terribly off-key.

the worst morning person ever. if you want to wake up on time, it's best to set an alarm half an hour early to account for nina's constant pleas for 'five more minutes' as she pulls you back into her arms. and how could you say no?

and

(platonically)

i feel like i've been pairing you with a lot of big personalities throughout this, but i think you and jesper would be best friends instantly. from the moment jesper meets you, he takes you under his wing and refuses to leave your side. he latches onto you and even if you wanted, you couldn't get rid of him.

obviously, this is jesper, so outlandish adventures around ketterdam are a must despite the rare scoldings from kaz. it's nice to see how harmless much mischief you two can get up to, as jesper's witty personality means the night is full of hushed laughter and jokes. you're often the one who has to pull him away from his attempts at gambling away all of his money - you're the only one he'll listen to, and although he acts annoyed, deep down he's extremely grateful.

if you want to, he'd try to teach you how to use a gun and do the little tricks that he can. this isn't to say he wants you to join them on heists, of course not. but he feels a little safer knowing that, if necessary, you could protect yourself. nina is also thankful for this fact.

he loves to tease you and nina, which usually leads to a back and forth between them whilst you and wylan watch in amusement on the sidelines. it's always from a place of love, though.

calls you the most ridiculous nicknames, usually taken from an inside joke that happened two or more years ago. this boy doesn't let things go.

loves messing with you and teasing you, it's how he shows he cares and appreciates your friendship. he loves when you return this energy.

you're slightly quieter than he is, which he appreciates. he often feels like he can take a moment and calm down around you, making him not as impulsive. he thinks he's become a better person since the two of you became friends, often mentioning how you've rubbed off on him.

im hoping you enjoyed these bestie!! i rly hope i haven't somehow completely misinterpreted your personality through our chats,, but based on the vibes u give me this is what i'd have to say!!! :D

#again im so sorry these took so long ahh!!! #i luv my mutuals <3 yeah

[bluephoenixdruidicprincess]

I want to get into kpop but i don't have any idea where to start? There's so much out there, do you have any tips or recs?

Why hello friend and future Kpop cohort!

I totally get you. The genre is pretty expansive and it can feel overwhelming. Especially if you’re brand new and you have no idea what’s good and what’s not. I got into it with a slight bit of advantage because I got into it about 10 years or so ago, before it really started getting big in western pop culture. So I was able to kind of grow into it and watch the genre grow with me and from there I could figure out my tastes when it comes to that industry.

How did I originally get into it? Well, like the total weeb I am, I am an anime lover so I would listen to their opening theme songs and a lot of it I really liked the sound of, so from there I kind of got into jpop (Japanese-pop) and then I started experimenting more with Kdramas, jdramas, cdramas, tdramas, etc. And just like with anime, I would listen to the music being played and think, “ok, I like that, where can I buy it?”. The downside is that 10 and 15 years ago, the Asian pop industry was not big in western culture so it was super hard to acquire the music through legal means. A lot of the music wasn’t available on the US Itunes or any of the other venues. I would literally have to make playlists on youtube for those songs or illegally download them, etc. But the thing with finding the music on youtube back in those days was that youtube was still relatively new and copyright issues was a seemingly never-ending battle there (I mean, it still is but that’s beside the point, youtube needs to hurry up and get with the times!). So you could create playlists of your favorite Asian drama songs but the videos had a tendency to be blocked frequently because of copyright claims (especially with the Japanese songs, Japan takes no prisoners when it comes to copyright). There was also a time when I would go on Amazon and just purchase the physical soundtrack CD as well.

But thankfully, those days are now over. I am so happy that this music industry is starting to make more of a wave over on this side of the world so I don’t have to jump through all of these hoops trying to find music that I want to listen to. i can typically find everything I’m looking for on Spotify these days.

As for any tips on how you can get into it, there’s really not much I can say. Like with all music, its completely subjective, based on your own music tastes. A lot of it is going to be trial and error. If you have Pandora, I would recommend listiening to a Kpop station and that should kind of give you a feel for the type of music you’re into and which bands and artists you would like to follow. You could also take my approach -- you could watch anime and the various Asian dramas and listen to those soundtracks and that can also give you a feel for the kinds of music you like. What I’ve taken to recently is creating two Spotify playlists. One playlist is designated for putting all the music in for all of the artists I’m interested in potentially following (Asian Pop is what I titled it). Then while I’m at work, I’ll turn on the playlist and whenever a song comes on that I’m really vibing with, I add it to the second playlist (Asian Pop Faves). And after a while, you start building up a good playlist full of songs you’re really vibing with.

As I don’t know what your music tastes are, I can’t really recommend music that you’ll definitely like. But I can give you some of the bands and artists I listen to.

Here are a few of the more popular bands that are getting pretty big right now:

-BTS (I’m not a huge stan of BTS but they have a few songs I like)

-Twice

-Red Velvet

-Blackpink

I’ll also give you some of my faves.

BoA (K-Pop, J-Pop) – Of course, if you’ve been following me a while, you knew there was no way I was not going to include her as a recommendation. I love her so much, I think her voice is super unique and she’s an absolute powerhouse when it comes to performing live. She’s been dubbed the Queen of Kpop and no matter what, no matter what the next big thing comes out of the industry is, BoA will always by my Once and Future Queen of the industry.

2NE1(K-Pop) – If you like Blackpink but have never listened to 2NE1, what even are you doing with your life? So much of Blackpink is heavily inspired by the era left behind 2NE1. 2NE1 sadly isn’t active anymore but they have left a permanent mark on the industry for sure. NO ONE interested in Kpop should sleep on 2NE1 in my opinion.

AAA (J-Pop) – This is a J-pop band and much like BoA, I’ve been following them for the past decade or so. They’re kind of unique in the sense that the band is a mix of both men and women. This is actually a rarity within the industry. You don’t see it too much. I suspect its because the industry often caters their music to different fanbases. All male bands will cater to a specific fanbase in their music, while all-female bands will cater to a different fandom with their music. So when you have both grouped together, you kind of have to find a middle-ground in that area and I think AAA has really succeeded in that area. I love their sound and they are so much fun to watch live.

Back-On (J-Pop) – Another J-Pop band. This one is all-male. If you’re into a little more of a rock vibe, this is the band for you.

Hikaru Utada (J-Pop) – If you’re into Kingdom Hearts, then you’ve already heard her but definitely don’t sleep on any of her other projects. I think she’s really great and has more of an R&B style approach to her pop.

Pentagon (K-Pop) – An all-male band. They got the nice boy-band pop sound if you’re looking for that

IU (K-Pop) – Female artist. She has a very clear soprano voice and she often mixes jazz style into her pop which creates a really unique sound that I enjoy.

Punch (K-Pop) – Along the same lines with IU, a really very clear beautiful voice

KARD (K-Pop) – A mix of male and female artists, they don’t have a lot out right now, but what I’ve heard so far I really like.

Also, if you’re looking for a soundtrack to listen to, I recommend the You’re Beautiful kdrama soundtrack. It’s really great and also if you want to watch a kdrama, You’re Beautiful is also a fantastic drama as well.

Here’s some individual songs that I like a lot:

Cool Hot Sweet Love – Red Velvet

RPM – SF9

Drama – AAA

Horizon – AAA

Milky Way – BoA

Masayume Chasing – BoA

Woman – BoA

Manhattan Tango – BoA

Make Me Complete – BoA

Everlasting – BoA

The Shadow – BoA

No. 1 – BoA

M.E.P – BoA

Implode – BoA

Romance – Boa

Hurricane Venus – BoA

Etude – BoA

One Shot, Two Shot -- BoA

(alright, that’s it with the BoA recs; I told you guys, I love her)

Grip! – Every Little Thing

Dejavu – AAA

First Name – AAA

Next Stage – AAA

Thank You – AAA

Hide-Away – AAA

Find You – AAA

Get Chu! --- AAA

Strike Back – Back-On

Bad Boy – Red Velvet (there’s both a Korean and English version, both sound great!)

It’s Me (Pick Me) – Produce 101

Just Do It Yo! – Pentagon

Make It Right – BTS

Boy in Luv – BTS

Done For Me – Punch

DNA – BTS

2NE1 – Happy

As If Its Your Last – Blackpink

It Hurts – 2NE1

Ugly – 2NE1

Psycho – Red Velvet

Don’t Leave Me – BTS

Scary Fairy Tale – IU

Come Back Home – 2NE1

Lost Child – IU

Havana – IU

Dinosaur – AKMU

Fake Love – BTS (both regular version and rock version)

With you – Back-On, Me

Yes or Yes – Twice

Endless Fighters – AAA

Peter Pan -- EXO

3-6-5 -- EXO

But anyway, I think that’s it for now. This list in no way encompasses everything that I love in the industry but this should give a good starting point!

#kpop #jpop #boa #boa kwon #kwon boa #aaa #attack all around #bts #exo #twice #red velvet #back-on #akmu #iu #2ne1 #sf9 #produce 101

[madammuffins]

Fairy Summers is a short story request by @vhum for my 300 follower celebration.

It is a World of Make Believe AU featuring Chelsea x Puck told over a series of summers as they age together and manouver through lifes struggles, fantastical and mortal.

I will be uploading in parts just for easier reading. Also, playlist.

CW: Contains coming-of-age themes, familial abuse suggestion.

~*~*~*~

She didn't really understand what the old lady in black was saying. Chelsea did like being able to wear her blue sparkly dress though, and her shoes echoed on the wood floors. ʻAnakē Susie placed a hard hand on her shoulder, stilling her squirming body.

"Seeing as no other relatives are here to claim the child, we've already run over an hour on this case, and sadly Mr. and Mrs. Kalua's living will was not legally notarized… " The old lady leaned forward, "Chelsea, dear?"

The young girls hands gripped the chair, ʻAnakē Susie's hand still on her shoulder, her thumb digging in against her shoulder. "Yes?"

"Do you like your mother's cousin?" She motioned, her sleeve billowed. "Would you like to stay with them?"

"Oh I love sleepovers!" Chelsea beamed. "We always sleepover when we visit Hawaii." She kicked her legs, bouncing against the chair. "For weeks!"

"Yes." The judge grinned, her face softening kindly. "Would you like to live with your mother's cousins? Now that your parents aren't with us."

Chelsea frowned at that, "I guess." She answered slow, chipped nail finding a divot in the wood, "but I'll have to go home with them when they come back."

"I'm afraid she still doesn't completely understand, Your Honor." Susan's arm snaked around her soon-to-be ward, the picture of concern. "It's such a terrible concept-"

"And she is so young." The judge nodded. "Very well. Let's wrap this up, shall we? The court rules in favor of the plaintiff Susan Kalua suing for legal guardianship of Chelsea Kalua. As her foster mother you will receive monthly sums to offset the cost of support. From here on out you, Mrs. Kalua, and your husband," Hard grey eyes moved to the bodies on the first bench just behind Susan, "will be expected to treat Chelsea as a member of your family. A daughter of your own."

"Of course!" Susan nodded, eyes glistening, matte pink lips pressed together and wobbling.

Chelsea wriggled against the fingers digging into her arms. In the muggy heat of Hawaiian summer the blue dress had become suffocating.

~*~*~

Chelsea pulled her knees to her chin, watching Anakala Joe pull the pig from the kalua. The smell of roasted pineapple and coconut and spices hit her square in the stomach.

"Anakē," she shifted on the tree root, "Anakē Susie I'm so hungry."

"Excuse me, Sis." Susie turned from the table, "I gotta lolo keiki."

The auntie chuckled as she continued chopping. Chelsea's brows furrowed as she watched Susan wipe her hands on a rag that she shoved back into her apron.

Chelsea unraveled slowly, I'm not crazy.

Susan's hand was still sticky when she grabbed Chelsea's arm. Her dark hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail but the summer had the loose strands sticking to her neck. Chelsea didn't like that she smelled of mangos and onions. The combination made her feel sick as her bare feet stumbled hard over uneven ground, struggling to keep up with too long strides.

"Anakē-" Chelsea's protest cutoff when Susan threw her arm like it was scalding her.

"I am your mother now, keiki." She crouched down, voice hard and scratching. Her eyes were cold. "Tsk, aisus."

Chelsea shuddered at the warmth flooding into her skin through fingertips that now stroked instead of clenched. "I-I want Mama."

"I know, Chells." Susan's eyes closed, her voice was heavy. "I want her, too. But, darling, she's gone. She's never coming back. I'm your Mama now. I'm your mom. Call me mom." Lids snapped open as fingers tightened, shaking the child quick, tight, violent. "Call me mom."

The demand was hot and tight in Chelsea's chest. "I-I want Daddy. I want Dad…" The breeze rustling the trees nearly swallowed her words.

"Call me Mom."

It hurt, the demand. Weaving up into Chelsea's head mingling with the smell making her eyes water.

"Okay, Mom."

Susan's grip loosened, soothing over the sore fingerprint sized aches. "That wasn't so hard now, was it?" Those eyes dipped below unruly hair to peer into tearing eyes. "Don't cry."

"Okay, Mom." Chelsea knew obedience would make her new mom happy; she swallowed the confusion and pain.

"Ah my good girl." Mom stood, patting Chelsea's head. "I need to finish cooking. Dinner smells amazing. Be back in half an hour we won't wait for you. Tardy girls don't get Haupia Pie and Uncle's made the best this year."

"Yes, Mom…" Chelsea watched the woman stand and walk away toward the large strung lights and revelry.

And she immediately went in the opposite direction. Her feet carried her over the smooth path. Her Uncle's house was far from the tourist attractions, the ground lush from volcanic fertile growth. The stars peeked around the fading velvety pink and navy sky. She passed by The Spot, a not so local secret swimming place, watching a few of her older cousins and her new brother splashing before continuing on; as if she could outrun the nightmare by wandering the wilds.

Night caught up to her quickly, the sky so full of starlight it looked as though it were diseased. Chelsea felt the prick of worry grip her stomach. She knew the island well, but not at night. At night the land was different, wilder, stranger. At night the trees were taller, the noises louder, the shadows were things creeping around to grab at her. Chelsea's hands tangled in her My Little Pony shirt as her legs churned faster. Red glowing blurs blinked and vanished in the distance.

Faster.

Something in the dark chuckled.

Faster.

The hair on her arms and neck pricked, chicken skin flooded over her as she broke into a run, her chest heaving. She could hear a second set of footfalls behind her. Heavier. Faster.

"No!" Her little voice cried out, her eyes watered. "Please!"

A fork in the road, she veered off the path she didn't recognize. The footsteps slowed, walking after her. She could feel it enjoying this. Her body shuddered as her lungs burned, her feet felt like lead as she rounded a sharp turn.

Ahead was a cave. She could hide there.

Chelsea ran for it, training her eyes on the rocky maw. The footsteps behind picking up pace, loping after her. It didn't matter. It wouldn't catch her now.

She crossed from dirt onto the smooth rock, going slow to avoid cutting her feet. The thing screeched and howled and paced just feet beyond the entrance, but didn't follow. Couldn't follow.

Chelsea didn't look back. Wouldn't look back. She knew better. Chelsea had heard the stories of the things that walked on the islands. She knew if she looked it would have her. Besides, deeper in the cave she could hear music and there was a glow.

Laughter like none she'd ever heard before, clear and musical. Like running water and bells and violins. It all echoed down the cave to her, beckoning her. And so she followed. The rock turned to moss, vines, fern, and mushrooms began springing up thicker and thicker as she continued, as the light got brighter and the voices louder.

A blinding light greeted her; enveloped her. When her eyes adjusted she saw the most fantastical party of imaginary people she had never dreamed. Moving through them they welcomed her, touching her hair, twirling her to the beat, using their butterfly wings to take her higher, higher above the trees and gently floating back down.

Some had goat legs, some had hair made of flowers, others had eyes of red fire. It was the one with hair like water that grabbed her hand at last, stopping the endless twirling and dipping and spinning.

"Come, my child." Its voice rang like three people were talking at once. "Let's feed you. You are hungry are you not, my sweet?"

Awed at the way its skin glimmered gold Chelsea could only nod. She was suddenly very hungry; so hungry she could eat everything at the table the beautiful imaginary person led her to.

There were pies and tarts and breads and custards. Cakes and treacle and juices.

"We're cooking a pig back at Uncle's house." Chelsea grinned up at the creature, lost in the galaxy eyes.

"Were you, my doll?" Its long hand grabbed a wooden cup, filling it with a honey colored juice that smelled like poplars. "We don't eat much meat here. That's for the other kind."

Chelsea reached for her juice. "Oh I'm thirsty."

"I know, sweet one." Fingers dropped to her hair, tangled in it, slid down, repeated. "We have so few children play with us these days. You're such a delight. Will you drink and stay longer?"

Chelsea looked up, "I can't stay long. My new mom-my mom. She doesn't like being my new mom. She's just mom now…" Little fingers dug into the grooves of the cup. "She said I have to be home in half an hour. I won't get dinner if I'm not."

"Oh, Dear." It smiled softly, hand wrapping around her own. "We have so much food for you here."

Chelsea's eyes lit with glee. "You do! Mom won't mind if I already eat, right?"

"No, little one. Now drink and eat. Stay and dance with me? Be my friend. Please?"

Those endless eyes gazed at her and Chelsea smiled, raising the cup to her lips when a blur smacked it out of her hands.

"No!"

"Puck!" The imaginary person rose, eyes narrowed. "How dare-"

"Oh, look!" The little imaginary person craned around to gaze at the table, "Pigsnout, Taft, and Luffkin are fighting over the pies again!"

The imaginary being tensed, mouth opening and closing before turning and storming off towards the mess of bodies on the table.

"Don't you know anything!" The little green and gold person turned on her. "You humans are all so stupid."

Chelsea squeaked when he grabbed her hand.

"You don't eat the food, you don't drink the- Hey!"

She pulled out of his grip, hands tracing over his wings. "Are you real?" Moving to knocking on his horns, "Are you imaginary?" She pinched at his skin. "Am I-"

"Stop!" He stomped, turning to her. "My name is Puck. Oh!" He covered his mouth, "I shouldn't have told you that."

"Why not?" Chelsea's head tilted as he grabbed a handful of treats.

"It's a fairy thing." He shrugged, popping a piece of food in his mouth. "C'Mon. I'll take you home."

"I…" Chelsea looked back at the fae dancing and playing. "What if I want to stay here?"

It was his turn to look at her curiously. "You would be stuck as a kid and finally returned home after a hundred years."

Brown eyes widened. "A HUNDRED YEARS?! That's like a whole lifetime."

Puck snorted, wings fluttering. "Yeah. Let's go."

He grabbed her hand again, leading her further away from the fairies and music and food. Chelsea's feet found smooth volcanic rock again.

"Oh." She tugged on his hand, making him pause midchew. "There was a-a thing out there."

He frowned, swallowed. "I think I know. It won't bother us."

Chelsea's stomach growled. "Puck…"

The grass was soft under her feet, the stars winked through the trees.

"Puck I'm hungry." He shrugged, eating another bread piece. "Puck, share your food." Chelsea stomped, surprised when nearly immediately he offered his outstretched hand. "O-oh. Thank you."

"You…" he frowned, watching as she grabbed two pieces. "You shouldn't eat those."

"Too late." Chelsea swallowed guiltily. "Sorry."

Her hand found his again and he stared at it for a while. "How did you find the fairy ring? Most people who wander into them are lost or want to be lost."

"My new mom." Chelsea shuddered, moving closer to a less green, more skin colored Puck. "She's not nice. My real mom and dad are gone. They're dead. And my new mom…" Chelsea bit her lip, fingers knotting in a loose thread at her hem. "Your wings and horns are gone."

"It's my disguise." Puck's grip tightened as they passed by the still noisy swimming hole. "We're friends, right?"

Chelsea blinked, nodded. "I'm Chelsea Kalua!" She pulled her hand from his grip and presented it proudly, chest puffed out.

With a laugh he took it, "Puck Goodfellow." They shook once before interweaving their fingers again.

"But we're leaving tomorrow." Chelsea frowned.

"Don't worry, 'Little One'." He winked, smiling at her giggle as they approached the family. "I'll find you next year."

Her head snapped to him. "You will?!"

He nodded, pushing her forward as he faded to the shadows. "I know your name now. We're friends. Besides," his eyes glowed heavy green in the darkness as the rest of him vanished, "you owe me a favor."

~*~*~

Since I want to represent the Hawaiian heritage there are Pidgin and Hawaiian terms used in this short story. If something was used incorrectly please feel free to let me know.

Terms:

Aisus- sigh, shucks, darn, etc

ʻAnakē - Auntie (related)

ʻAnakala - Uncle (older brother, related)

Kalua - underground oven for pig/turkey roasts traditionally

Lolo - crazy

Keiki - Child

Haupia - A coconut pudding

Uncle - a friendly, respectful term used to refer to older men. Relation doesn't matter.

~*~*~

Tag List: @vhum @thelastoftheflyinggraysons @nemothesurvivor

If you'd like to be added/removed to the tag list please comment or message me.

#fairy summers #modern fairytale #urban fantasy #chelsea x devon #world of make believe au #wip #300 follower celebration #writeblr #writeblr community #writblr #writing #my writing

[dasirunrunrun]

Good Grief - Chapter One

Jungkook makes a habit of showing up drunk to a nearby flower shop. Bad puns and fluffy pining ensue.

Or, a college!au in which BTS are all frat boys, Namjoon is a science club president,Jimin just wants a good party, and Jungkook is hopelessly fascinated by the girl who takes care of flowers in her free time. author’s note:  hiiiiiii!! so this is my first ever fanfiction, and to be completely honest- it’s a long ride. so strap in, and get ready for a rollercoaster of emotions. Also there is a soundtrack/playlist for this fic! If you enjoy listening and reading (or, if you just want to have a g list of songs) you can find it here ! disclaimer: All mentions of the university in this fic are purely pulled from my ass— I don’t claim to know anything on a deep, spiritual level about university clubs, classes or frat parties. Side characters, that aren’t specifically Bangtan Members™, are all made up and therefor fictional .

If you’d prefer reading on AO3 the link is here

chapter warnings: mentions of alcohol (and drunkenness) chapter notes: this chapter is all for getting things rolling and introducing characters! it’ll pick up for sure after this! 

words: 4.2k

Chapter One

track: do i wanna know? - arctic monkeys

There are loads of things you can expect while working in a flower shop- Like, for one, an abundance of bees, butterflies, and other bugs that enjoy the flowers just as much as humans. Or, the knowledge that your bouquet will go to a receiving, flustered, significant other. Those things are expected. Those things are welcome, even.

But, hearing an obnoxious, loud knocking at the backside shop door, at 21:30, is definitely not on that list.

It wasn’t like the gentle knock from the delivery guy in the middle of the day— No, this was a banging, brutish sound coming from the other side of the Hibiscus green house. At 21:30.

With my vast experience of watching horror movies, I thought I was well prepared for this kind of situation. I had convinced myself that i’d be a badass main character— with double pistols and a sick ass soundtrack in the background. Now though, with a probable axe murderer on the other side of the door, I couldn’t bring myself to move, let alone play something like Highway To Hell in the background.

So here I am, at 21:30, staring at the door shake with every rap from the lunatics’ hand.

They say panic brings on hysteria, and maybe hysteria is what brought a surge of curiosity to my head in that very moment. Who even comes to a flower shop this late? For a robbery? Maybe. But there’s barely any money to be made from selling flowers. My family and house is a clear example of that.

Fortunately, my thoughts were interrupted by a voice cutting through the silence— coming from the very door that was, just a moment ago, victim of a massive beating. “Hiiiiii- I’m sorry for disturbing so late,” came a very slurred, very sugary yell from behind the door.

I held my breath, trying to decipher what age of male could be the host to that scratchy, rough voice. When another intrusion of thought, this time: “Excuuuuusseeee me” came. His voice picked up, louder — echoing off the walls of the shops, which had me ducking a bit behind the counter for useless cover.

I stared at the screen door, faintly able to make out the shape of the “knocker.” He didn’t look so huge, maybe taller than me, but not in a way that screamed “old man.” I counted to three, allowing myself to gain the composure that was needed.

With newfound courage, that was promptly pulled straight out of my ass, I cleared my throat, and moved to the door. The walk there felt like eternities, and my heart was beating so loudly there was a good chance that he probably heard it. I took a deep breath, hand on the doorknob, wondering just how I could make an escape if this turned out to be a terrible idea. Giving a three second prayer to a God I wasn’t sure I even believed in, I pulled open the door.

I was met with a very drunk, as expected, very attractive boy- looking around the same age as me. His black hair fell evenly into his eyes, as he moved to tilt his head to the side in obvious curiosity. The boy’s lips broke into a grin— making him look like a sort of soft, inebriated bunny. “Hi ther-”

“We’re closed,” was the first thing out of my mouth, cutting off his dreamy sigh. He stood straight up, looking put off- in that drunk kind of way. I tried to clear my throat, hoping that it would give me the authoritative image I was going for.

“If you’re closed then why are you answering the door?” Was the unhesitating, sloppy, strung together sentence that was returned back to me. Although his face remained the very description of amused humor, I could only be reminded of a five year old boy- immaturely sticking his tongue out.

I didn’t respond, too stunned with the quip to try and reply. My thoughts were running wild; trying to think of an escape plan (incase things went south), and at the same time, trying to find a way to roast the kid back. It was a very conflicting, and telling, moment for me as a person.

“Haha, caught.” The boy sung back to my lack of response, bringing up both of his hands in the ‘finger gun’ pose. His voice sounded lazy, like he had lost the energy to keep up this conversation. “Yah, are you a perpetual liar?”

I found myself bristling at his accusation. It took all the willpower I possessed to not shoot something snappy back. “You need to leave.” I informed, trying not to let the  irritation I was feeling seep into my voice. I had to look up to meet his eye directly, and that, besides being held up from going home, was the most annoying thing. “If you don't— i’ll, i”ll probably call the police, or something.” The threat was weak and held little to no truth. That much was obvious, even to my own ears.

Drunk- door knocker gave an almost smug chuckle- the sound airy in the silence of the shop. “Alright, alright. Fair enough,” this time the response was definitely toned down, but still holding the same causal flow of someone who was undoubtedly inebriated. “I’ll go.” A pause. “Don’t want you ‘probably’ calling the police or something.” The last comment was, beyond any doubt, snark. And for the second time that night I felt the urge to slap him.

I blinked, trying not to let the shock show on my face, as he saluted me before turning to walk back down the road.

I leaned my back against the nearest wall, waiting to see if another sudden knock was to erupt from behind the locked door. To my absolute relief; there was none. The moments after seemed to pass like hours; silence encapturing the room like a net.

Letting out a breath I didn’t realize I had been holding, I slowly allowed my body to slide down — using my back against the wall as a prop and comfort. The situation, in reality, was terrifying. The strangers ease of words, and light smile had brought most of the tension to leave my body. But with silence as my only companion, the question of: What would have happened had it not just been a random drunk passing by? rose to my head. A shiver climbed up my body— urging me to wrap my arms carefully around my torso.

A buzz from my phone sent me jumping to the side— immediately feeling the panic sneak back up my bones. Illuminating light flooded from my phone, indicating a message from “Mom” with the following text of: ’lock up quickly, you’ll need to eat before sleeping xx’

Sending back a short “okay x” in response and quickly gathering my things, I made my way out of the shop— careful to lock everything up, and double check the security alarm.

The walk home wasn’t far; ten minutes by foot, notably shorter by vehicle. The air was crisp, but still warm enough for only a light jacket. Spring was approaching faster than expected, which meant the flower shop was also attracting business. The image of the boy floated back into my head at that moment, making me puff out a breath in indignance.

What was that about? The situation was too bizarre to even try and normalize. Though, after much pondering, it made a bit of sense. Our flower shop was down the street from a major frat neighborhood. Drunk college students should’ve been expected to be roaming by every now and then. Even so, adrenaline continued to pulse through my bloodstream. Nearly five years of closing up shop for mom, and nothing like this had ever happened. I made a quick promise to myself to never mention this to her. She’d just get worried, and then insist that she should be the one closing up shop again.

But she had enough on her hands. What with trying to raise two twin boys. I mean, Dad was there, but working night shifts at the factory didn’t leave much room for “family bonding.”

I let out a soft sigh into the night air, nearing up on our small house in the process. The warm glow of light filtered out through the blinded windows, and just the sight brought a welcome feeling of comfort. Feeling my face give way to a soft smile, I brought myself to move into the house. Immediately, the smell of home cooked food, and familiarity fell on me.

“Mackkiiiee!” The pet name, usually put to use by my little brothers, rung in the air. Turning my face to the left, I was met with the scene of Max and Jamie- sitting on the ground with, what looked to be a drone, in between the two of them.

“Look at what we did!!” Max squealed excitedly, motioning to the black drone with over enthusiastic flicks of his arms.

“Your brothers are at it again.” The voice came from behind me, my mom, somewhere at the kitchen table. “Doing their little tinkering.” She clarified, as if that wasn’t clear to me.

“Oh,” Was all I could manage to push out of my throat. It’s ridiculous to be jealous of two 10 year olds, but honestly sometimes life was unfair. Here I was, 19 years old, working as hard as possible just to land B’s in school. While my brothers were already crafting their own devices. I watched the boys, seeing their eyes flicker back to me with obvious expectancy. “It’s awesome, kiddos.” I smiled, forcing all of the petty immaturity out of my body. “You guys are modern geniuses,” I grinned “Einstein would be soooo jealous.”

This proved to be the correct response, because moments later, the perfect image of joy was captured in the smiles that broke out on their faces. The two boys clapped hands together, then moved onto trying to take the device apart and give me an explanation of their expertise.

I let out a fond scoff, before moving to the kitchen and talk with my mom. She was sitting at the table, having already made a plate for me, with a newspaper clasped between her fingers. “Was everything in order at the shop?” She questioned lightly, raising her brown eyes to look over at me.

I pulled out my chair, taking a seat as memories of the situation from earlier replayed over in my head. “Yep, all good.” I lied smoothly, forking a piece of almost burnt chicken into my mouth.

“And for school tomorrow? Should I ask your father to give you a ride-”

“No,no,no” I rushed out, voice muffled by the chicken stuffed in my mouth. “I’ll take the bus.” I amended, after taking a sip of water,watching the shock leave her face and dawn into realization.Guilt flashed in her eyes like a warning. I let out a soft sigh and sat back in my chair, “it’s no big deal mom. Thursday’s are my free days, remember? I only have News Club, anyways.”

She didn’t look convinced, if anything even more discouraged. “I know, I know,” She murmured. “I just- you must be the only college kid without a license-”

“Ma’-” I cut her off for my own sake, really. I’d heard her complain over the “supposed sob story” that was my driving education (i.e nada) for years. It wasn’t like it was anyone’s fault but my own. My mom had always offered to pay for my driving classes, and then, of course, the payments to a car. But, that always felt selfish to me. Plus, with perfectly usable public transportation- why was that necessary?

“Well at least-” I stood up then, not wanting to hear her attempts at trying to “make up for it” when it wasn’t necessary.

“I’m going to bed now, ma” I said lightly after shoving my dishes into the dishwasher. “Thanks for the food- it was great.”

《                                               》

track: seeing stars - børns

The thing about university is: it’s not highschool. There is absolutely no comparison between the two. In university, if you chose to be “out of the loop,” it works. Because you aren’t forced to have everyone’s life shoved down your throat.

And that’s pretty legendary.

But unfortunately, as president of the newspaper club, it is my genuine job to have everyone’s life in my throat. Or, more accurately, in my computer.

“Nora,” The use of my name meant things were getting serious. “I’m telling you, the biggest story at the moment is the binge drinking epidemic in the frat houses.” Mary’s hesitant voice made me look up from my computer- pen in hand. “It’s absolutely revolting-” Her lispy voice was cut off by Jona’s laughter from another cubicle-like desk across the room.

“Mary, nobody cares about a little drinking from the school’s “infamous party house.” That’s old news.” Jona’s argument was accompanied by a signature eyebrow raise. Jona, our best journalist, had a lot of opinions; and he never chose to be quiet with them.

“He has a point.” Seokjin chimed in, to the left of me, looking much like a secretary: with a clipboard in hand, and coffee in the other. Seokjin was our vice president, and my best friend- to add. We’ve been attached at the hip for almost my entire life. Every memory I possess: he’s apart of.

“Yeah- you’d say that. What with being apart of the same frat.” This time the interjection came from Finn— sitting on top of his desk with a soccer ball in his hands. He gave it a toss, catching it moments later as he added: “you probably just want to avoid the bad press for Sigma Butter Alimony, or whatever it is”

Seokjin tilted his head to the side “it’s actually Sigma-”

“Pause.” Jona’s loud voice came across the room, causing all heads to swivel his direction. “Jin’s in a frat? Scratch that, the frat?” His face was the epitome of disbelief— eyes wide, mouth slightly agape as he stared at Seokjin. “My mans skinny as a twig, how is he out here with those guys?!”

Seokjin shrugged, unable to keep a smile from playing on his own lips. Mary let out an exasperated sigh, flopping into her office chair with a short grumble of words.

“So,” I started, glancing around the room to see all of their eyes had been averted back to me. “What i’m hearing is: we don’t have a cover story.” I let my words fall over the silence of the room— gauging everyone’s reaction.

The spring semester had just started, which meant stories were basically nonexistent. There was no interesting news to be told, because there was nothing interesting happening. Clubs were just getting started, most scandals were tamed or too old to even be considered news. Sport season was only just starting again, so that cut out all athletic stories. It was the great depression of Newspapers. A news article drought.

A chorus of agreements went around the room, making my shoulders sag with disappointment.

“What about the science club? Apparently they’ve been accepted into a famous science fair competition.” Finn suggested from across the room— his blonde hair was disheveled, probably from running his hands through it so much. “We could interview the president, Namjoon, and the star student Ju—”

I adjusted my glasses, flicking my eyes back to the white, blank screen of my word document. “We should wait until the competition is completed for that one. That way we can touch on the results- make a real story.” I kept my voice neutral, leaning back in my chair as silence, once again, filled the room. “We’ll keep that on the back burner.”

Mary threw her hands up, her curls bouncing with the movement.

“Then i’ve got nothing.” Finn shrugged, his face looking as blank as the current “article.”

I stayed quiet for a moment, mentally holding myself back from smashing my head against my desk. “Mary,” I kept my eyes glued to the computer screen “what all do you have on the frat story?”

I faintly heard a scoff coming from Jona, probably, and a low whistle from Seokjin.

I knew, just as everyone else, that the story wasn’t too complex- or even intriguing. But with no cover story there was no article, and this needed to be out by next week: at the latest. I looked up just as Mary bounced out of her chair, curls flinging wildly around her face.

“I’ll send all of my writing to you by the end of today!” She lisped out the words, voice full of excitement with a lower undertone of pride. In all fairness, this was her first cover story.

“Good, do that.” I watched as she moved around in a little dance— a smile tugging on the corners of my lips from the sight. “I’ll be heading out then, make sure to clean and lock up before you all leave.” I informed the crew, trying not to laugh at the scene of Mary attempting to rub her victory in the other two boys’ face.

“See ya’ boss.” Came Finn’s reply, flicking me a peace sign as I turned away.

Seokjin, as expected, followed me out only moments later. The air was warm, the beginning of spring manifesting itself in the weather. As expected, almost everyone was taking advantage of the sun: studying in the grass, unpacking picnics, while others had games of frisbee and soccer going.

As Seokjin and I walked, I ran over the previous conversation back and forth in my head. Despite the positive outcome, I couldn’t help myself from feeling a surge of disappointment at the lack of stories. A story like the one we were planning on writing, the one about the frat boys, was simply gossip.

“It’ll be okay.” Seokjin was staring at me— his face the perfect picture of calm and collected. He didn’t specify what he was talking about, but I knew right away. It always seemed like he could read my mind.

“I know,” The confidence in my voice was stronger than I was feeling. I clasped my hands loosely together, behind my back, as we walked. “You’re not mad, are you?” I was hesitant to ask: not really wanting to hear the answer. “I mean, this is about your frat house- your friends.”

He gave a light shrug— “A story is a story,” a pause was given in lieu to him bumping his side against mine. “Especially if it’s true. And who knows,” we passed a group of people playing guitar— having a jam session “maybe the story could help some of those who go too hard.”

I nodded along, shoving my hands deep into my pockets. I hadn’t thought of it like that, but then again— i’m not sure anyone besides Seokjin would think of it like that. He always looked at the world as if it were infinitely good— and everything was able to be fixed.

“So, your frat-” My attempt at pulling some details out of him was interrupted two boys from behind us.

A chorus of “Seokjin!”s rang in the air, pulling both me and the boy in question to a halt. We swiveled, almost in unison, to the duo walking behind us. A boy with striking orange hair, and a friendly face— accompanied by a hauntingly familiar mop of black hair, and a soft bunny smile.

I felt the air punch out of my lungs— eyes widening at the same moment that the boy, himself, glanced over at me. I watched his eyebrows knit together, an intense concentration flooding into his expression as he stared me down.

Seokjin was the first to speak, smiling lightly at the other two boys. “Jimin, Jungkook,” his voice held only amusement “‘m surprised to see you two up and moving after that party last night.”

The party last night. I flicked my gaze between Seokjin and Jungkook, the latter of the two still looking like he was trying answer the mysteries of the universe with every passing second.

The orange haired boy, the one who Seokjin nodded to first, Jimin- let out a laugh that held nothing but sunshine and friendliness. “It’s what we do, Jin-” His words were interrupted by the boy next to him.

“Do I know you?” The question had me blinking, and taking a step back all at once.

“No, you don’t.” I kept my voice firm— seeing the confusion in Seokjin’s face and the raise of eyebrow Jimin sported out of the corner of my eye.

“Are you sur-”

“Yes.” I interrupted, nodding my head along with the word.

“How sure?” He questioned again, looking utterly stumped.

“Pretty sure.” I squeaked out.

There was a long pause, no one daring to speak.

“Like what percentage of ‘sure’ are you at?”

“What?” I glanced over at Seokjin— watching him shrug back at me in response. He looked just about as miffed as Jungkook.

Jimin, once again, let out a loud laugh, clapping Jungkook on the shoulder as he did so. “Kook, you aren’t going to pull any girls with those lines.”

I flicked my eyes back to Jungkook who was biting his lip in obvious concentration, his head slightly tilted. The similarities from the previous night came so vividly that I found myself taking another step back. “I-I probably should get going…” I put lightly, bumping Seokjin’s side as a wordless goodbye.

Jungkook’s mouth dropped open— in either realization or protest, I couldn’t tell which. And, honestly, I wasn’t interested in staying to find out.

Seokjin nodded in response, mumbling something along the lines of ‘text me’ but i was too busy getting the hell out of there to take any real notice.

《                                        》

track: if you wanna stay - the griswolds

The walk to the bus stop felt much longer with the newest set of revelations on my mind. Jungkook. So that was his name. He was cute— in the way that, i’m sure, every girl recognizes.

I pushed my hands roughly through my hair— trying to simultaneously push the thoughts out as well. “Stupid Jungkook, stupid drunk knocking, stupi–”

My little rant was cut off by the doors of the bus opening in front of me— revealing a very bored looking bus driver staring at me expectantly. I hadn’t even heard the vehicle pull up, too lost in my own reverie. I nodded to the driver, pushing myself into the bus and picking the most familiar seat in the back corner.

It was a short bus ride, only 10 minutes, but enough time to finally stop thinking about that night. I made my way to the Flower Shop— walking in to be greeted by the soft smell of blooming flowers, and my mom, sitting behind the counter in deep conversation with a customer. I moved to the back storage room, grabbing a green apron and tying it around myself before starting with the plants.

Making my rounds around the shop, checking on flower pots and the progress of new blooms— it was a calming job. Easy to see why my mom loved it so much. There was also something so satisfying in being aide to the growth of something.

An hour or two passed, and my mom was yelling out a goodbye– giving me instructions like any normal day. I waved to her leaving figure, taking the spot behind the counter as more customers began to enter.

It was a busier day today, giving me a distraction that was well appreciated— and by closing time, I had almost forgotten completely about last night and the odd encounter with Jungkook today. As expected, no drunken knocks, or bunny smiles were thrown at me tonight. And locking up went as easy as it usually proved to be.

Replacing the relief I should’ve been feeling, there was another set of emotions. Too many to describe, though the familiar pull of disappointment hit me like a brick: surprising me more than anything else. I wasn’t sure what the disappointment was directed at anymore, but the feeling of it followed me the whole way home.

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