#go check out their AU summary and the art they posted on twitter!
Text
Sabikui Bisco Week Day 2- Modern AU
In collaboration with the amazing @Kyyhky7 , we present to you a fluffy little College Roommates AU for Sabikui Bisco Week 2022! My parts of the collaboration are posted below~
You can read the entire thread with a summary of the insanity we came up with on Kyyhky’s Twitter!
"This guy is my roommate!?"
Aspiring med student Milo and roguish art student Bisco, what does fate have in store for these two college roommates?
#Sabikui Bisco Week 2022#sabikui bisco#rusteater bisco#rust eater bisco#modern au#college au#roommates au#biscomilo#bimi#my art#fanart#thank you kyyhky for working with me!#I'm so happy we brainstormed so much!#go check out their AU summary and the art they posted on twitter!#go now go go go!#bisco akaboshi#akaboshi bisco#milo nekoyanagi#nekoyanagi milo#bisco#milo#Bisco is unintentionally charming and Milo has a gay panic every time
61 notes
·
View notes
Text
BakuDeku one shots by nikkiRA
UA Students
AO3 Fanfic Recommendations
Disclaimers!
All of these stories are by @aravenlikeawritingdesk
Some contain mature content.
Read tags. Check Ratings.
Art work by @Milmil21229 {twitter}.
Note: If you read any of these stories and like them please let the author know with a kudos and/or comment!
jump then fall by nikkiRA
Summary: During a storm, Class 3-A end up playing a version of the newlywed game, except Deku and Katsuki get roped into playing, even though they're not dating.
They're really good at it.
“It’s cute that you know so much about each other,” Ashido says. Bakugou curls his lip; he locks eyes with Deku, and he feels his cheeks heat up at the happy smile he gives him.
One Shot | Third Year AU
Rated - General Audiences
can this be a real thing can it by nikkiRA
Summary: His friends are all laughing when Katsuki throws himself down beside them and says, “Why the fuck do people think I’m dating Deku?”
This time last year it would probably be hard to get an answer, with no one (except possibly Kirishima) willing to be the one to poke Katsuki’s anger. Now they all burst into laughter, and Mina says, “Have you seen you and Deku?”
One Shot | Second Year AU | Post War
Rated - General Audiences
this love left a permanent mark by nikkiRA
Summary: "I get 'em too."
Izuku looks at him, but Katsuki is faced away. "About what?"
Katsuki shrugs. "Take your fucking pick. Got a lot of options." And isn't that just damn depressing. "Hey," Katsuki continues, and his voice has the forced neutrality he always gets when he cares too much and he's pretending not to. "You can stay here tonight, if you want."
One Shot | Post War
Rated - Explicit
king of hearts by nikkiRA
Summary: Bakugou gets hit by a quirk that makes hearts manifest above his head— the more hearts, the more he likes you.
He can under no circumstances let Deku see him.
One Shot | Third Year AU | Quirk Accident
Rated - Explicit
gorgeous by nikkiRA
Summary: Katsuki smirks and says, "Why d’you like my summer uniform better?"
And here's the thing— Izuku could come up with an acceptable reason, except at that moment Katsuki crosses his arms, and even in the school uniform Izuku can see the outline of his muscles, his incredibly big, incredibly strong muscles. And Izuku's very dumb, very gay brain latches onto them, and Izuku's very dumb, very loud mouth opens and says, “Arms."
One Shot | Third Year AU
Rated - Explicit
this love is a bloodbath by nikkiRA
Summary: Izuku takes a breath. "When I thought that you were dead, I thought of all the things I hadn't told you, and now it's like I have a second chance. I don't want to keep secrets from you anymore.
Katsuki swallows. His mouth is very dry. “What secrets have you been keeping?"
the truth comes out.
{One Shot}
Rated - General Audiences
Research Purposes by nikkiRA
Summary: The curiosity gets to be too much for him. There were too many unknown variables. When did he start needing glasses? Izuku had been watching and taking notes on Katsuki since he first learned how to write. He needed to know for research purposes. The fact that they made Izuku horny as hell was just an unfortunate side effect.
{One Shot}
Rated - Explicit
Unravelled by nikkiRA
Summary: *spoilers for chapter 362*
The first thing Katsuki becomes aware of is the fact that he’s not dead. Or at least, he’s assuming he’s not dead, because he’s hoping being dead isn’t going to hurt this fucking much. It feels like Shigaraki had turned him into dust and some stubborn idiot had gathered up all the pieces and super glued them back together.
There’s a sniffle near him, and Katsuki opens his eyes to see the stubborn idiot in question.
One Shot | Post War
Rated - General Audiences
Someday by nikkiRA
Summary: "Bastard hit me with his quirk," his Kacchan says. "It's supposed to swap you with a version of your past self, except Aizawa erased it right in the middle, which somehow meant that this shithead got pulled through, but I didn't get sent back."
"Who're you calling a shithead?” Sixteen year old Kacchan bursts out. Kacchan smacks him on the head.
"You, shithead! Pay attention!"
One Shot | Third Year au | Quirk Accident
Rated - Teen & Up
dining in by nikkiRA
Summary: "Kacchan," Izuku says patiently. "I just squirted on your face. Tell me you love me."
Katsuki’s eyes turn hungry at the reminder. "Fuck yeah, you did,” he says leaning down to give Izuku a kiss that is mostly teeth. "I fucking love you."
One Shot | Third Year AU | Trans Deku
Rated - Explicit
#bakudeku#ua students#third year au#fic recs#bnha post war#bkdk#ao3 fic recs#ao3 bakudeku recs#bakugou x midoriya#bakudeku ua students#trans Deku x bakugo#quirk accident#getting together#second year au#bkdk post war#bakudeku confessions#archive of our own bakudeku#ao3 fic rec#bakudeku smut#bakudeku fic rec
131 notes
·
View notes
Text
title: from now until forever (spend the night together)
relationship: anakin/obiwan
rating: E
word count: 2.8k
tags/warnings: PWP, stewjoni biology, weird stewjoni biology, homestuck genitalia, nooks and bulges
summary: Anakin doesn’t know how Obi-Wan manages to look so cocky, cool and confident, and self-assured while sitting spread-legged and dick out. Well, bulge out, technically. That’s what Obi-Wan called it when he described in detail what he wanted to do with Anakin when they finally saw each other again, voice tinny and staticky over the comm, as he told Anakin to touch himself from hundreds of parsecs away.
A/N: one of my entries for Stewjoni Biology Week!! featuring classic homestuck troll biology :) to see all the fics and art that were posted check out the AO3 collection or the twitter !! this also fulled my AU square for obikin bingo @obikin-events for full list of tags on this fic, go to ao3!
Anakin doesn’t know how Obi-Wan manages to look so cocky, cool and confident, and self-assured while sitting spread-legged and dick out. Well, bulge out, technically. That’s what Obi-Wan called it when he described in detail what he wanted to do with Anakin when they finally saw each other again, voice tinny and staticky over the comm, as he told Anakin to touch himself from hundreds of parsecs away.
Anakin can’t help but keep his legs tightly pressed together, his hands keep moving to try to cover his dick. He’s half-hard already and has been since the Resolute docked on the same planet as Obi-Wan. When they finally reunited, Obi-Wan had pressed a gentle, almost shy, kiss against Anakin’s lips - the first in the many months since they’d been apart. What they had was both new and old - new in that they finally broke down the barriers between platonic, familial, romantic, and sexual that previously stood in their way, but old because their urges and feelings were well-worn and familiar.
They just hadn’t gotten the chance to have sex yet. The last time they were close enough to touch, Obi-Wan was injured and Anakin was busy with Ahsoka, and it was only just before both were shipped out to opposite edges of the galaxy that Anakin broke down. Pathetic and embarrassed, crying like a child that he didn’t want them to part, crying until Obi-Wan pressed a cool hand to his face and told him that he didn’t want them to part either. And since then, it had just been sending messages over the comms whenever they had a spare moment, calling each other when one was just walking up and the other finally going to sleep, sending charged and longing glances at each other as they projected into meetings.
Now they were together. And Anakin had no clue what to do. When he first ran into Obi-Wan’s arms, he shyly suggested that they sneak away from the Negotiator and the military docks. They could go closer to town and find a hotel. Obi-Wan shook his head and chuckled at Anakin’s confused expression.
“We’d have to pay a fortune in cleanup fees,” Obi-Wan said. “My quarters are better suited for what I have in store for you.”
Sitting naked on Obi-Wan’s bed, watching as Obi-Wan’s bulge slithers out of the smooth, rounded sheath - his nook, Anakin thinks dumbly - leaving a watery blue mark on everything it brushes against, Anakin finally understands what Obi-Wan meant when he talked about clean up fees. He almost forgets to breathe as he watches it unsheath, the base getting wider the more it comes out, the flexible, tapered tip growing more adventurous as it can reach further. The whole appendage is a majestic teal-blue, as is and the slick that drips off of it. The few times Anakin has been unfortunate enough to see Obi-Wan bleed, his blood had been the same.
“Well,” Obi-Wan says, the teasing note in his voice almost insufferable. “Is it up to your standards?”
“I have no idea what to do with it,” Anakin admits, feeling hopelessly juvenile. While his own dick twitches, Obi-Wan’s flicks around and squirms. Obi-Wan brings a hand to it, and the bulge wraps around it. Not the other way around.
“You could touch it, to start.” The teasing lilt of his tone has diminished but not disappeared entirely. “Don’t worry, dear. It won’t bite.”
Anakin grumbles but scoots closer to Obi-Wan, who leans back against the headboard of his bed, looking as comfortable as ever. Anakin brings a tentative hand, his flesh hand, to the writhing limb and jumps when it surges over to meet it. The tip twitches and worms its way between his fingers, curling around them, like it's trying to hold his hand. It’s not as firm as Anakin’s dick, there’s more give underneath the slimy skin, but it’s strong enough to spread and squeeze together Anakin’s fingers at will. He’s surprised by how much colder it is than he expected. Not freezing or unpleasant, but noticeably cooler than his skin. (He always loved how cool and comforting Obi-Wan always felt. There was nothing better than his Master laying a chilly hand on his forehead when he was feverish as a child or his refreshing embrace after a spar gone well.)
He lets out a giggle, silly and stupid, as he moves his hand in a mimicry of how he jerks off. The bulge moves with him, guiding him, keeping his attention solely on it to not let it slip from his grasp. Translucent blue fluid bleeds through the gaps in Anakin’s fingers and drips down his wrist until it splatters onto the thick towels that Obi-Wan laid out on top of his sheets.
“See,” Obi-Wan’s voice almost startles Anakin, so caught up was he. His voice has a breathy quality to it now, and when Anakin glances up at his face, he sees Obi-Wan’s half-lidded eyes and flushed cheeks. “Nothing to be worried about.”
“I wasn’t worried,” Anakin lies. He pouts when Obi-Wan snorts. “I wasn’t!”
“No, no, of course, you weren’t.” Before Anakin can argue some more, he presses on. “Did you prepare yourself like I told you?”
Anakin flushes a deeper pink. He nods softly. “Yes, Master.”
It was agonizing, trying to sneak away from his crew long enough to finger himself open (“At least three wide and as deep as you can reach.”) and put in the long, tapered plug that Obi-Wan shipped to him. (How he managed to sneak the package in with the regular shipment of rations, medical supplies, and parts, Anakin didn’t know.) For hours, Anakin had to walk, sit, and move through the Resolute, as if there wasn’t a silicon toy in his ass. He only found relief after Obi-Wan had let him to his room with a large hand resting on his lower back and when he excused himself to the washroom to freshen up. As soon as the plug was out, abandoned in the sink (Obi-Wan made him wear it, so he could clean it up.), Anakin missed the stretch and heft of it. Now, he understood why Obi-Wan insisted he wore it.
“Such a good boy,” Obi-Wan praises. Anakin smiles and his dick twitches, getting even harder. “What position do you want to start in?”
Anakin has imagined himself in so many of them with Obi-Wan but the twisting bulge in his hand, and the leaking slit that he can spy underneath, where it's coming out of, have wiped his mind blank.
“What’s easiest for your… uh… for you?”
Obi-Wan grins wolfishly. “Oh, you don’t have to worry about me, dear.” He leans over and presses a sweet kiss against Anakin’s open mouth. Anakin’s eyelids flutter and he presses closer, moaning lightly. Hunched over uncomfortably, hand around Obi-Wan’s dick and making out with him, Anakin would be happy even if they just spent the rest of the night like this. But Obi-Wan promised all sorts of strange and wonderful things and it seems like he’s intent on doing as many as he can.
“Why don’t you lay back and we can see how it goes from there,” Obi-Wan suggests as he pulls back. A spiderweb-thin string of spit hangs and stretches between them. Anakin can’t take his eyes off of it until it snaps and drips down his chin. It takes him a moment to register what Obi-Wan said but once he does he nods. It takes another moment to let go and pull his hand away from Obi-Wan’s bulge, reluctant as it is to lose Anakin’s pleasurable grasp.
On his back, Anakin realizes just how many towels Obi-Wan has layered onto the usually stiff beds that, even Jedi General, are given. It’s almost plush from all the layers. Anakin wonders whether Obi-Wan had to save up for all these towels, whether he had to consciously plan to use them for this evening, or whether they count as a species accommodation and were provided for him. Anakin hopes it is the latter - that all the bickering at the senate over military funding and taxes ended up funding the towels that Anakin is going to get fucked on. Even if it isn’t, he’s sure that Obi-Wan will get a kick out of it when he tells him what he’s thinking. It can wait until later, though.
Obi-Wan gets to his knees and hovers over Anakin, planting a hand next to his head and smiling down at him.
“Hi,” Anakin whispers and immediately feels silly for doing so. But Obi-Wan just smiles wider.
“Hello,” he replies. “Are you comfortable?”
Anakin nods.
“Alright. Tell me if you want me to stop.” Unlikely, Anakin thinks. He strains his neck to watch as Obi-Wan grabs his bulge, starting at the thick back and sliding his hand towards the tip, holding it steady as he shuffles closer to Anakin’s winking hole.
“Oh,” he gasps when he feels it stroke his hole. He spreads his legs wider, earning him another ‘good boy’ from Obi-Wan, as he presses his bulge into Anakin. At first, it doesn’t want to go in, too content mapping the rest of Anakin’s ass with its blue film. Then, it catches Anakin’s rim, feels how warm and wet and open Anakin is for it, and it starts squirming to get into it. The tip is so thin, only a little thicker than Anakin’s pinky, but it quickly grows in thickness. The cool, watery slick that it produces eases the slide-in.
Obi-Wan stops just shy of pressing all the way in, but Anakin already feels stretched so wide. Unlike his fingers or any toys he’s ever used, Obi-Wan’s bulge keeps moving even while his body is still, flailing and twisting deliciously inside him. Anakin lets out a breathy moan.
“You like that?” Obi-Wan asks, teasingly. Anakin nods. “I knew you would.”
“Shut up,” Anakin whines. Obi-Wan complies, but only because he decides to start thrusting, pulling his hips back until only the first few inches of him are left inside, and then all the way forward, each time getting closer to being fully sheathed in Anakin’s ass.
It’s embarrassing, how quickly Anakin loses the ability to control the words he says or how loudly he says them. How could he be expected to remain poised when Obi-Wan was reaching so deep inside that Anakin thought he always feel empty after tonight? His bulge kept brushing against his prostate and curling back on itself, stretching him even wider. Each motion makes Anakin’s legs shake. He reaches up with his mechohand to tug at Obi-Wan’s hair. His Master moans as he lets Anakin pull him down into a kiss, sloppy and uncoordinated, spit bubbling between the corners of their lips. With his free hand, Anakin reaches between their bodies - his warm and mostly hairless, Obi-Wan’s cool and hairy - and wraps his flesh hand, still sticky and slick from touching Obi-Wan’s bulge, around his dick. He moans just at the thought of using Obi-Wan’s precome as lube, much less the actual sensation of it.
Anakin’s moans and little screams of pleasure only increase as Obi-Wan gets rougher. Each thrust is accompanied by wet sounds, as Obi-Wan’s bulge leaks more fluid until it drips out of Anakin’s hole and down his ass when he’s not plugged full. When Obi-Wan finally presses all the way in Anakin’s hole is stretched wider than it’s ever been before. He feels breathless and Obi-Wan sounds breathless as he grinds against Anakin’s ass for a few seconds. The tip of Obi-Wan’s bulge seems to understand that Anakin is teetering on the edge and it presses and undulates against his prostate. It only takes a few more sloppy strokes of his cock and Obi-Wan pressing adoring kisses against his neck and Anakin is crooning as he comes.
He expects Obi-Wan to give him a moment to calm down. Instead, Obi-Wan groans as he watches Anakin come undone and, bizarrely, shuffles toward the edge of the bed, pulling Anakin along with him.
Anakin makes a noise of confusion as he’s dragged but Obi-Wan just shushes him by pressing two fingers into Anakin’s mouth for him to suck. It’s nearly automatic, the way Anakin wraps his lips and tongue around them. He isn’t happy that it’s being used as a silencing tactic but lets Obi-Wan maneuver him until his ass is hanging off the edge, supported by a now-standing Obi-Wan.
Anakin feels better about his comparatively shorter fuse when he realizes how erratic Obi-Wan’s movements have become. His hair is flustered to his face and his eyes glazed over, mouth slightly slack. Still tingly with pleasure, but no longer drowning in it, Anakin feels how wet his ass and the back of his thighs are now. Drops of blue liquid splash out with every thrust. It drips down Obi-Wan’s chest, some drops are even stuck in his beard.
As Obi-Wan’s moans get louder and his thrusts get sloppy, more slick spills out of his bulge. Anakin’s dick twitches and Anakin lazily jerks it. Obi-Wan hunches over Anakin again but now it seems more involuntary. He pants and curses.
“Fuck,” he groans. “Anakin, oh, I’m going to come.”
“Yeah?” Anakin whispers. “You gonna do it inside?”
“Really?” Obi-Wan asks. Inside, Anakin feels his bulge thrashing, pressing against Anakin’s soft and tender walls. He tries clenching around it and Obi-Wan makes the most delicious sounds. “Are you sure?”
Anakin thought he was the romantic, but Obi-Wan sees starstruck at the idea. He nods. “Yes, Master. Please come, I want to feel you.”
Obi-Wan has never agreed to anything Anakin’s said so fast before. The few sweet words are enough in his love-drunk state. A few more minutes of choppy thrusting, his bulge practically twisting itself in knots, and he’s coming, groaning lowly. Instantly, Anakin realizes why Obi-Wan seemed so surprised that he wanted him to come inside.
As Obi-Wan comes, more translucent slick oozes out of every pore of his bulge, even dripping out of his nook. Instead of the steady drip… drip… drip that had been leaking out of him before, now a veritable wave gushes out of Anakin every time either he or Obi-Wan moves. It splashes on the industrial tiled floor of the bedroom, splashing to cover Obi-Wan’s feet, legs, and the edges of the towels. Anakin, also, realizes why Obi-Wan moved them. Drains are in every room on the ship to make the olympian task of cleaning these flying war machines possible. Instead of having to replace an entire mattress, Obi-Wan and Anakin will only have to awkwardly smuggle a few mops into Obi-Wan's room to clean up.
For all the slick that leaks out, more of it stays plugged inside Anakin, as Obi-Wan continues fucking into him and his bulge writhes. Anakin groans in pleasure and pain, as his tummy begins to be pressed taut from all the liquid stuck inside. When Obi-Wan peels his eyes open from where they’ve fluttered shut, the sight of Anakin squirming, filled with come, makes him moan even louder, and another wave of slick pulses out.
It feels like forever and a day of being stretched and filled, but finally, Obi-Wan pulls out. He moves slowly, letting a steady stream of blue genetic material leak out until Anakin is a shaky, moaning mess. His hole twitches and flutters as Obi-Wan’s bulge finally slips out, less firm than it was before, but still moving autonomously. His legs are shaking and he needs Obi-Wan’s shuffle back onto the bed, a trail of blue leaking out of him, staining the towels with each movement.
He pants heavily but looks at Obi-Wan with wide pleading eyes until he crawls onto the bed and lays next to him. Against Anakin’s sweaty skin, his Master’s cool touch is a welcome respite.
“Obi-Wan,” Anakin rasps, twisting until he can look Obi-Wan in the eye. He has so many things he wants to say. That was amazing. That was the weirdest fucking thing that I’ve ever done. I want to do it every night. I don’t want to leave you. Let me stay here forever. Instead, he swallows and asks, “How long until we can do that again?”
Obi-Wan barks out a laugh. He reaches for Anakin’s flesh hand, tacky with come, and holds it tenderly. “No need to rush. We have all night, love.”
Anakin wants to say That’s the problem, it’s only for the night. He wants to say I want to bottle this feeling so that I’ll always have it.
“You didn’t answer the question.”
Obi-Wan hums. “Give me until I can walk again and then let you swallow my bulge until you choke.”
Anakin swallows and licks his lip. “Okay,” he says. “Alright. Don’t take too long, then.”
Obi-Wan chuckles and looks at him lovingly. “I’ll do my best, Anakin.”
#bongrip writes#obikin fic#nooks and bulges#obikin#stewjoni biology#its been a hot min cuz i was busy and getting Diagnosed lmao but i posted 3 fics recently!!!#not gonna post the other stewjoni bio week fics here cuz they r.. more intense lol#stewjoni biology week
19 notes
·
View notes
Text
Biker!Mando Masterlist
Paring: Biker!Mando x Reader
Summary: The Mandalorians are a well-known biker gang whose reach spreads around the world. They are as mysterious as they are dangerous and anyone with common sense knows not to cross them. When a Mandalorian bounty hunter arrives on your doorstep demanding payments from your brother, it is only the beginning of a chain of events that uproot your life.
Pinterest Board.
Spotify Playlist. Spotify alternative post of the playlist.
Chapters: [IN PROGRESS]
I. Devil to Pay
II. Muddy Waters
III. Disarm
IV. Little Lies
V. Kiss With a Fist
VI. Linger
VII. Silver Dream
VIII. Lay It On me
IX. Creature Fear
X. Sour Times
XI. Blood on My Name
XII. Eyes on Fire
XIII. Mistaken for Strangers
XIV: The Violet Hour
Drabbles/ONE-SHOTS:
Requests are CLOSED!!
Moonlit Ride (smut)
Moonlit Ride Pt 2. (smut)
Reader taking care of Junior
Frog Lady and Frog Husband
The Way You Move (smut)
Nowhere to Go (smut)
Easy Rider (smut)
The Mythosaur Necklace (Smut)
Bad Intentions (Smut)
Headcanons:
#biker!mando au tag for inspiration & general inbox responses
Worldbuilding
Young Din
The Mandalorians & Rival Gangs
Din and Paz’s Bikes
Din & Omera (mentions of smut)
Din & Xi’an (mentions of smut)
Paz x Syala (OC)
Sexting/Phonesex w/ Din (smut)
Giving Din a Blowjob for the first time (smut)
Tattoos
Din and Paz’s Friendship
Din & Toys (smut)
Din realizing his feelings for Florist!Reader
Din & Paz’s Helmets
If you have any questions or headcanon ideas please feel free to drop an ask!
Edits and art:
Reader’s Store Logo by me.
Amazing art by @ben-is-a-hoe can be found here and here and here and here
Biker!Mando moodboard by me.
Biker!Mando Moodboard by @skyshipper
Biker!Mando and Story Moodboard by @huliabitch
Stuffed Frog from Part VI by @chibi-liz05
Taglist: CLOSED
Credits/Honorable Mentions:
✖️ I was originally inspired by @princessmimoza ‘s fan art (x)
✖️ Please check out the art by @miranhas-art who is also working on some biker!mando stuff
✖️ Biker!Mando twitter thread by @/cranity
✖️ The template I used for the header can be found here.
#the mandalorian imagine#the mandalorian x you#the mandalorian x reader#din djarin x you#din djarin x reader#biker!mando au#olly edits#olly writes
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
This Week in Gundam Wing (Aug 29 - Sept 11, 2021)
That’s right folks! Because of the long weekend last weekend, you all get a two-for-one this round-up! Lots of excellent stuff from the fandom the last two weeks, so take a look and show your fellow fans some love!
--Mod LAM
Fanfiction
Dirty Computer (CH 11/?) by @doctormegalomania
Pairings: Heero x Duo, Wufei x OFC
Characters: 5 pilots
Rating: MATURE
Tags / Warnings: minor violence, espionage, unreliable narrator, post-war, reference to past injury, implied/referenced self-harm
Summary: Years after the war, nothing is what anyone hoped for. Peace reigns supreme.
Man Lion Thing Dude (CH 14-16/?) by @anaranesindanarie
Pairings: Trowa x Duo, Triton Bloom x Duo
Characters: full cast, original Trowa Barton, OCs
Rating: EXPLICIT
Tags / Warnings: graphic depictions of violence, whump, blood, alternate universe, supernatural, were-creatures, family problems, arranged marriage, mentions of torture, smut, magic
Summary: Duo Maxwell is estranged from the last of his remaining family who are demanding that he return home for an important announcement. Meanwhile, Duo has been having strange encounters with 'wild' animals, all of whom seem to be hunting him.
The Life of the Immortal Jellyfish (CH 15-16/35) by @lemontrash
Pairings: Duo x Wufei
Characters: 5 pilots + Relena, Hilde, Noin, Une
Rating: MATURE
Tags / Warnings: post-canon, post-Endless Waltz, UST, roommates, Preventers, slow burn, insomnia, friendship
Summary: Is it chance that lands Duo and Wufei in the same university dorm room? They’re not stupid enough to believe that but too tired to fight it. Duo’s dragged himself back from the brink of going too far and remains teetering on the edge while Wufei’s doggedly trying to prove himself to the ‘good guys’ in the aftermath of the Eve Wars. Sleep and normalcy eludes them both. As they become increasingly aware how damaged they are, they start to edge towards friendship, or something more, but all too soon the peace seems jeopardised by a new and manipulative threat.
Prompt Fic by @gemstonecircles for @bryony-rebb
Pairings: Wufei x Sally
Characters: Wufei and Sally
Rating: PG
Tags / Warnings: flashbacks, future fic, tropical diseases, best partners evar
Summary: “I’d come for you”, he said. “No matter what, when you need me, I will be there.”
Prompt Fic by @gemstonecircles for @boxofhatebrains
Pairings: Duo x Quatre
Characters: Duo and Quatre
Rating: PG
Tags / Warnings: music, friendships, concerts, foul language, complicated relationships with faith, cherry-picking manga
Summary: “You free Saturday night?”
Prompt Fic by @gemstonecircles for @heartensoul
Pairings: Duo x Relena, Heero x Trowa
Characters: Heero, Duo, Trowa, Relena
Rating: MATURE
Tags / Warnings: REO Speedwagon, future fic, receptions, reunions, getting together, smoking, shotgun kisses, first kisses, cherry-picking manga, FT what FT, look at my life look at my choices
Summary: The reception, at least, was a welcome reprieve from most of the events that she’d been forced to attend in the last half-dozen years.
Prompt Fic by @gemstonecircles for @noirangetrois
Pairings: Duo x Relena
Characters: Duo and Relena
Rating: Teen and Up
Tags / Warnings: stargazing, criminal trespass, future fic, FT what FT, discussion of panic attacks and mentioned ptsd
Summary: “Well, guess we’re here until the solar storm clears,” Relena sighed...
Prompt Fic by @gemstonecircles for @seitou
Pairings: Heero x Trowa
Characters: Heero, Trowa, Relena
Rating: MATURE
Tags / Warnings: 1+R friendship, dates, home cooking, future fic, beers, fade-to-black sex, sweet dumb men in love, everyone ships it
Summary: “I have good MREs that I was saving for a special occasion.”
Katahimikan by @ktsskb / katopiyoon AO3
Pairings: Duo x Quatre
Characters: Duo and Quatre
Rating: General
Tags / Warnings: post-Blind Target, Pre-Endless Waltz, non-confessions, pre-relationship
Summary: “I’m just taking a little rest,” Quatre smiles. He lets himself get slightly more comfortable, loosening his posture.
Orgel by @ktsskb / katopiyoon AO3
Pairings: Duo x Quatre
Characters: Duo and Quatre
Rating: General
Tags / Warnings: alternate universe, fantasy elements, established relationship, injured character
Summary: Duo comes home late with a gift.
Fanart
Doodle Prompts (1x3x5) by @seitou
Heero x Relena (elf AU) by @lokineko
OZ Military Ball (13x11) by @keiko1183
Zechs and Duo Hairbraiding by @keiko1183
Several by @gundayum
Wedding Bells (3x4)
Snuggles (1x2)
Trowa’s a Pathetic Clown
Duo as the Little Mermaid
King of the Hill (Heero, Relena and Bobby/Mariemaia, and Trowa)
Kinbaku WIP (3x5) by @2pcbart
Relena as John Cena by @farshootingstar
Quatre learning to knit by @farshootingstar
On the Wing by @theboringbluecrayon
Snuggles (3x4) by @circusoftrash
GW Crack by @circusoftrash
Heero EW Redraw by @mei-jimenez-art
Relena FT Redraw by @mei-jimenez-art
GW Kiddo Doodles by @lemontrash
Jellyfish Fic Art (2x5) by @sparkchemy for @lemontrash
Summer (1xR) by @alphaikaros
Zechs and Relena by @alphaikaros
Belated MerMay Relena by @serenestorm
Sexy Trowas (Part I, Part II, Part III) by @serenestorm
Summer Duo by @owlinpajamas
Relena and Heero by @darksharinganz
Other Fanwork
Gunpla and Cosplay
Duo Maxwell Cosplay (Part I and Part II) by @itsjesskage
HGAC Wing Zero by @macks-mechas
Headcanons and Discussion
The Accidental (?) Seduction of Trowa Barton (3x4) by @a-river-of-stars
GoL Thoughts with @kittykatz
Dorothy and Treize, Cathy and Trowa
Treize and Zechs
Treize, Dorothy, Heero, and Epyon
Lieutenant Trant Clark
Other Fun Stuff
GW Sims 4 Portraits by @eslanes
Power Stances, with Zechs and Treize by @the-reanimated-bhg
Quick: look pensive with gloves by @the-reanimated-bhg
@incorrectgundamwingquotes still making us laugh (example)
Memes and Macros
This is my boyfriend’s boyfriend (Rx1x2 and Hx1x2) by @portrayalmuse
Dad Jokes Zechs (Part I and Part II) by @bonmotfic
Heero’s Romance Novel by @the-reanimated-bhg
Coffee Puns with Cathy by @the-reanimated-bhg
Requesting Leave with HR by @the-reanimated-bhg
Zechs, the master of pick-up lines by @the-reanimated-bhg
Spaghetti Westerns by @the-reanimated-bhg
Calendar Events
@gwcocktailfriday is back with this week’s prompt! Be sure to post your responses on Friday (September 17) between 3-5PM EST!
@gundamzine has opened up the mailing list, so be sure to register to get your FREE PDF on October 1! In the mean time, be sure to follow the account so that you can learn about the stellar 2021 Zine Crew members. Also consider donating to the team’s chosen charity, World Literacy Foundation (donations are optional, but encouraged). In the meantime, check out some of the previews, with more to follow.
September is National Prostate Awareness Month and @expewrites and @boxofhatebrains are hosting a GW Prostate Health Event at @prostatehealth-gundamwing beginning September 1. More info is available on the Event AO3 Page but in brief, options are to (1) create something or (2) donate to your prostate health organization of choice.
Sign-ups are officially open for the 2021 Holiday Gift Exchange with @thisweekingundamevents! Sign-ups close September 30, and participants will get their assignments in October, followed by the creation period November-December and finally posting in early January 2022.
@/ficwip (Twitter) is hosting a “Rise of the Dead Fandoms” event. Contributor sign-ups end on September 30, so be sure to register soon! Creation period runs September-October; posting will be in November. More info at their FAQ.
The @weedgrandpacookbook is an homage to the fanon of Mike Howard as the Gundam Wing’s chillest Weed Grandpa. Check out the Zine Calendar and FAQ for more info and be sure to complete the interest check before September 30.
Spooky prompt idea generation for the GW Hallows Event will kick off mid-September, and posting period will happen in October. Stay tuned to @thisweekingundamevents!
Keep an eye on @gwoc-october while you’re at it for news on the GW Original Character (OC) October Event. You can expect a prompt calendar to go live in September with posting in October…but you can also just use the month to showcase works with your original GW characters!
12 notes
·
View notes
Text
Frequently Asked Questions
Q: Do I need to write a crossover/for multiple MXTX works?
Nope! You only need to write about one MXTX work - for example, your work can be 50k Wangxian, with no featured characters from any other MXTX novels.
Q: Why is this event so long?
The schedule in the interest check was tentative. Here is our updated schedule:
April 1 - May 1: Writer signups
April 1 - July 1: Artist and beta signups
June 1: Writer check-in #1, fic header due (think a fic summary; we explain in detail later on!)
July 1 - July 14: Artist and beta claims
July 14: Artist and beta assignments given
August 1: Artist check-in #1
September 1: Writer and artist check-in #2, 30k wip minimum due
November 1: Writer and artist check-in #3
November 30: All works due
December 1 - 14: Posting period
We’re condensing the event so posting happens during December. This gives writers a ~6 month period to write. Since we’re requiring a 50k minimum fic, we want writers who may have other commitments (work, life, other fandom events) to have plenty of time to write.
Q: How can we join the Discord server?
A link to the Discord server will be given to participants at the end of the signup form! :)
Q: What if I already have a beta reader or artist I want to work with?
You can sign up as a pair, and let us know if you are welcome to other artists drawing for your work/beta reading your work or not.
Q: Can minors participate?
We have decided that minors will not be able to participate in our Big Bang event, due to turnout and the nature of MXTX’s works.
Q: What if I’m 17 now but 18 before July 1?
You can participate!
Q: Can it be something we’ve written already?
It cannot be something that is already posted. Otherwise, we cannot control the progress status of your work, although we would like you to keep in mind that it will be affiliated with our event.
Q: Will beta readers include sensitivity readers, or is that something the writer should figure out themselves?
Beta readers do not include sensitivity readers; we will not have signups or provide sensitivity readers for this event specifically. However, we will have resources for writers to have access to, linked both on the AO3 collection and in the Discord server.
Q: What if there is content I would rather not draw/beta for?
Artists and beta readers will claim their top 3 fics based on the writer submitted fic headers; you have control over fics you would rather (and rather not) work with.
Q: Will we need to show an art portfolio?
No, an art portfolio is not necessary. Do be aware that the first check-in for artists is in August, and make sure you are able to commit to the check-in schedule.
Q: What do fic check-ins consist of?
The first check-in, about two months into the event (June), will require a fic header from writers. Headers include fandom, ALL ships (main and side), the rating, content warnings (including any “spoilery” info), and a general summary of the fic’s plot. At this point, writers should have decided and started a fic they are committed to. This header will be for claims by artists and betas in July.
The second check-in will be a little past the halfway point, and will require a 30k+ rough draft. This will be in September.
Q: What do artist check-ins consist of?
There will be three check-ins. The first, on Aug 1 (1 month after claims start) will require the rough draft/sketches for all pieces. The second, Sep 1, will require lineart for all pieces, or at least 40% competition of the overall load depending on the artist’s preferred style. E.g. 1 roughly coloured piece, 2 drafts. The third, Nov 1, will be for all pieces to be colored or at least 90% completion. Any edits beyond this point will be between artist and writer.
Q: Can I, a writer, collaborate with another writer in this event?
Unfortunately not, as this is not a collaborative challenge between writers.
ETA: After some discussion, we have decided to allow collaborations between 2 writers only. Collabs will have 1 signup & be treated as 1 unit. i.e. one writer dropping out will be taken as both writers dropping out. Mods will not be facilitating communication between the writer pair.
Q: Can I write a crossover between MXTX’s works?
Yes :)
Q: Are there any other limitations or requirements for the story?
Besides being MXTX-related and 50,000 words, not at all. You can write whatever pairing, rating, etc. you want.
Q: Who are the mods?
We have five mods! This account follows them all. They are @tamakomarket @aroceu @soursoppi @catasstrophui and @/littlebasketbun (on twitter)
Q: Can artists change the number of works we commit to after claims?
Yes! Life happens. Please let us know as soon as possible if you need to scale back so we can assign pinch-hitters appropriately.
Q: Will I be penalized for dropping out?
No. If you need to drop out, you will not be barred from this event or from any future events. Please let the mod team know ASAP if you are going to drop out so we can find alternative assignments for your collaborators.
Q: Do I need to be familiar with all three MXTX works to participate?
Nope! You only need to create content/beta for the work you choose - e.g. a Scum Villain-only fan is just as welcome as someone who loves all three MXTX works equally!
Q: Can I write my fic focused on my OC?
For this exchange, fics should be focused around canon MXTX characters. OCs in minor roles (e.g. Wangxian solve a case fic brought to their attention by an OC) are welcome.
Q: Can we write a fic that is also part of another event (like the kinkmeme?)
Yes. Keep in mind that the fic will be part of both collections.
Q: Can I write my fic in a language other than English?
Due to the mods being English speakers and to ensure ease of communication between writers, artists and betas, fics are required to be written primarily in English. As this is a Chinese fandom, writers are allowed to use Chinese in their fics as long as the majority of it is in English.
Q: Is there a central theme we have to adhere to, or are we allowed to choose what to write about?
As long as your fic focuses on canon MXTX characters, writers may explore whatever themes and settings they like. AU, canonverse works, and anything in-between is welcome.
38 notes
·
View notes
Text
Weekly fic rec #1
So it's been a while since I've done one of these. These used to be called spectacular Saturday (or Sunday whenever I remembered to post) fic rec. But I'm revamping because when they were under that name I was reading mostly Arrow fics but now I read mostly Star Wars (Mainly clone wars era).
However, I still want to get back into highlighting the great fics that I've been reading. All posts new and old will be under #weekly fic rec
Coming to Terms by Mudkipwrites | One-shot | Star Wars: Rebels
Summary: Hera Syndulla has just lost her partner. Now pregnant with child and heavy with grief, she leans on her family and learns how to carry on.
Stumbling Blocks by BatmanWhoLaughss | One-shot | Star Wars: Rebels
Summary: So she waits, even though it kills her to do it, running so many tests on the Ghost that they won’t need to check the main systems for another two months. Until eventually, after a couple hours have passed, she vacates her perch in the pilot’s chair and makes her way to Kanan’s room.
But when Hera gets there, keying open his door to find him curled up in the corner and surrounded by two mostly-empty bottles of liquor, she curses herself for being an utter, utter fool.
[otherwise known as "kanan was a raging alcoholic for years of his life and no one ever talks about it, so I'm going to"]
Messes of Our Own Making by carry_on_wayward_sister | One-shot | Star Wars: The Clone Wars
Summary: “Are you kriffing serious, Snips?! What happened here???”, Anakin cried exasperated when he tiredly shuffled into the common area of the apartment he shared with the aforementioned padawan. No answer. What had greeted him as he left his room after a well deserved night of sleep was not per se an unfamiliar sight. It was, however, drastically worse than usual.
Or:
Chaos, bickering and lineage feels.
The ghosts we leave behind by echoknight | WIP | Star Wars: Rebels
Summary: Falling in love was inevitable. Becoming a family was a choice.
A series of short stories about the Rebels family, and how they came to be that way.
PrepPy GoThic LoVe by @cruzrogue | WIP | Arrow
Summary: New Freshman at MIT, Felicity wants to party and she meets another drunken party guest Oliver and they hit it off. Not really thinking of consequences have a wonderful time together. Oliver been to two different schools and this one he finally wants to do better because of a beacon of hope that rubbed off on him with just one night a passionate gothic girl changes him for the better.
Cobalt & Gold by @communistkenobi | One-shot | Star Wars: The Clone Wars
Summary: Sieges were always brutal affairs, and the camp was in low spirits. Ahsoka enlists some help to cheer everyone up.
i'm only me when i'm with you idiots by renegadeontherunn | One-shot | Star Wars: The Clone Wars
Summary: who let Obi-Wan pick the holo? and where's the remote?
they might need a bigger blanket.
[or, Anakin, Ahsoka, and Obi-Wan have leave on Coruscant and holo night is the perfect excuse to all squeeze onto a couch together, bicker, and be, well, a family]
Jedi Night by LeiasLeftBun | WIP | Star Wars: Rebels
Summary: This is pretty much a Jedi Night fix-it that branches off into what I like to think would have happened after Rebels. With less death of good characters.
Gentle Hands by @novembermurray | One-shot | Star Wars: The Mandalorian
Summary: As Din lets the Sorgan villagers return to their usual work after blaster training, he notices Omera is injured.
A Delighted Preoccupation by clio | One-shot: Star Wars: The Mandalorian
Summary: Omera, he comes to understand, is many things. A mother. A widow. An ace shot. Omera is good.
Kind.
Beautiful.
But most of all, he realizes, is that she is distracting.
Not that it’s a problem.
Dominoes by @meridiansdominoes | WIP | Star Wars: The Clone Wars
Summary: "So. We died." Hevy's voice is flat.
“Yes, we died,” Fives confirms. Even though his hands are steady on Echo’s shoulders, his voice trembles. “We all… remember, right?”
Everyone nods. Droidbait shudders, and shuffles closer to Cutup.
“How is that possible?” he mutters. “We’re not Jedi. We can’t… see the kriffing future, or whatever it was. We can’t—it’s just not possible. How could we all have had the same dream?”
Domino squad wakes up to find themselves back on Kamino, hours from taking their final test... except they remember passing the final test, and they each remember dying afterwards, too.
lost again with no surprises by @katierosefun | WIP | Star Wars: The Clone Wars
Summary: When Anakin goes missing under mysterious circumstances, Obi-Wan takes it upon himself to find his former apprentice. However, finding Anakin is no easy task—which is why Obi-Wan teams up with a particular former grandpadawan.
[or: a galaxy-wide road trip au because nothing says ‘fix your family issues’ like a good old road trip between a Jedi dad and his estranged daughter.]
Wardrobe Malfunction by BatmanWhoLaughss | One-shot | Star Wars: Rebes
Summary: Inspired by this piece of art by @NeeeAnn on twitter
Kanan loses a bet, and the results are predictably ridiculous.
Chasing the Past by BatmanWhoLaughss | One-shot | Star Wars: The Clone Wars
Summary: “You… you look like him.” The voice was quiet, almost awestruck, and Luke turned, startled. With his lightsaber in hand, he took a defensive position, stepping back and taking in the newcomer.
Standing before him and watching him with a warm, thoughtful expression, was a tall woman in a white cloak-- a Togruta, he realized. Her blue eyes were trained on him intensely, but as she slowly pulled back her hood, he saw she was smiling softly. She carried twin sabers at her waist, Luke realized with a jolt, and as he watched her warily, he felt… calmed, somehow. There was a sense of familiarity about her—he could feel it in the Force. It was like he… knew her somehow, even though he’d never seen this woman before.
It was unnerving.
I Scream But No Sound Comes out by @laxit21 | WIP | Arrow
Summary: When Oliver returns from Lian Yu after five years, he comes back different. What happened there damaged more than just his body. How will his friends and family deal with this new Oliver?
Space Dad Lives by @maximumsuckage | WIP| Star Wars
Summary: AU starting directly after TPM. Qui-gon didn't die, but he's sure not okay after taking a lightsaber to the gut. Obi-wan, still reeling after Mandalore, is now the hero who killed a Sith and vowed to train the Chosen One. Anakin is going to be a Jedi so he can free his mother and his people.
And the healers are kind of sick of dealing with the Jinn/Kenobi team.
30 notes
·
View notes
Text
Chocolate and Cherries - Chapter 1
Summary: When Adachi falls into the arms of a kind stranger his life changes for the better.
Rating: Pg 13
Tags/warnings: Fluff, getting together, au, Writer Adachi, Chef Kurosawa.
Word count: 6.2k
A/n: This story was written for the cherry magic mini bang! Thank you @hiwatari-art for inviting me to join! Had a lovely time working with you as always. Thank you to my other artist over on twitter guacagabs. The entire story is being posted right now. Thank you to @schnaf for being a great friend and beta!
Read on ao3
Adachi dragged his feet on the pavement as he made his way home from work. He was already too exhausted to start his writing day with the best mindset but it would have to do. He’d already skipped four days this week and if he didn’t actually sit down to work on his book, it would never be published. He let out a deep sigh and shook his head slightly.
The situation was not ideal by any means, he was not great at cooking and it was already too late to start dinner, but he definitely needed to eat something or his mind would absolutely quit on him, he knew that much.
Adachi knew he should probably get something healthier but he refused to waste even more time walking to the store, so he decided to stop by the food cart near his flat for his usual emergency menu: two tuna onigiris with mayo - along with a can of soda in the hopes that the caffeine would boost his creativity. He was not too happy about it, but he didn’t have much time to contemplate his choice because as soon as he had paid, the first few droplets of water hit his shoulders. Looking up, he felt the next few drops hit his nose and his forehead. He cursed inwardly and simply took off awkwardly running the last few blocks home, trying his best not to slip and fall, his dress shoes nothing but a hazard in this particular situation.
The building door was so close, he could see it through the pouring rain; just a few meters and he would be home. Adachi rushed, his hand extended already to grab at the door handle when his body collided with something - someone - and fell backwards. It was as if time had slowed down; he could see the face of the person he ran into frozen in shock, his eyes widening as he saw Adachi falling, while Adachi could only think about the pain this would cause him, physical, yes, but mostly emotional. He always managed to get himself in embarrassing situations and now -
His neighbour extended his hand just in time to catch Adachi’s and pulled him upright effortlessly, his expression switching from shock to a relieved smile. “Are you ok? I’m so sorry, I hadn’t seen you.”
“Thank you! I’m so sorry,” Adachi said, feeling the heat rise to his face, partly because of his clumsiness and partly because his neighbour had not let go of him yet. In fact, Adachi could have sworn that the guy was rubbing his thumb on the back of his hand. He didn’t know what to do, so he tried again. “Uh, sorry. I should’ve been more careful.”
“It’s ok, I’m glad that you didn’t get hurt.” The man seemed to suddenly remember they were standing in the pouring rain and pulled Adachi to the door. “Come, you’ll catch a cold in this weather.”
No matter how hard he thought, Adachi couldn't remember ever catching his name but he had seen this man before in the elevator and in some of the common areas. He seemed to be a bit of a recluse, much like himself.
The man opened the door and finally let go of his hand before ushering him in. “After you, Adachi.”
Adachi’s eyes widened; he didn't know how the man knew his name, but he didn’t mention it. He walked inside and called the elevator, followed closely by his saviour. Once the doors opened, he stepped in and turned around, pressing the button for the fifth floor and finally facing the man. "Thank you, again…" he trailed off.
"Kurosawa. My name is Kurosawa." He pressed the fourth-floor button.
Adachi smiled and bowed to him. "It was nice seeing you, Kurosawa. Have a good night."
The elevator dinged and Kurosawa bowed with a smile before exiting. “Good night, Adachi,” he waved.
Adachi hesitantly waved back as the elevator doors closed. Before he knew it he was one floor up, opening the door to his flat, throwing his work bag on the sofa and taking his wet clothes off with a groan before going to the bathroom.
What a day. Not only had he stayed late to finish on that project Urabe had handed to him but he also made himself look like a fool in front of his very cool neighbour, and to add insult to injury now he needed a hot shower to hopefully avoid catching a cold. He shook his head and hopped under the stream, washing himself thoroughly and letting the hot stream relax his muscles.
Feeling in a bit of a better mood, Adachi got out of the shower, wrapped himself in a towel and went about getting into a comfy set of pyjamas. He finally sat at his desk and opened the white doc of doom, checking the time and cursing as he realized it was 9 pm already. He slouched in his chair, throwing his head back with a groan. This book was going to take a million years at this rate, he really needed to prioritize his schedule, put on some good hours into it each day, especially during the weekend, he needed to -
Adachi’s stomach growled loudly, reminding him that his emergency dinner laid abandoned in its bag. He got up and stomped over to the sofa, unwrapping the onigiris and eating them without so much as a thought before returning to his spot. He promptly sat down to continue with the daily task of staring at the document while he begged his brain to type something - anything - out. But his mind had other plans though, Kurosawa’s face and gentle smile kept popping in his mind. Maybe it was because of the way he moved, how he had kept him from falling with his sharp reflexes, or maybe it was how elegant he looked even when he was soaking wet, how well his suit fitted him. Kurosawa was like some sort of superhero, or… no, he was more like a Prince Charming from an epic battle world. That was a start - it was not the murder mystery he had thought about, but it was definitely a start.
The sound of Adachi’s footsteps worked like a metronome, helping his mind settle into a rhythm. He was starting to see things in more detail: The brave prince paced in his castle, his sword close by his side, the problems his kingdom was facing were almost too much to bear and with his father on the brink of death, it was all on him. A shadow appeared above the citadel - the… the… ‘kingdom x’ was being attacked by a three-headed dragon. How would he fix this and save his people? Had someone sent the dragon or did it act with free will? Did the soon-to-be king have secret magic powers? Maybe they were a secret even to himself!
With renewed energy and excitement, Adachi sat down to work. This new world just wanted to be written, to become a reality, and he was not going to stop it. Aided by the occasional sip of soda and a few “stretching breaks” that were more like actual pacing, he managed to draft four thousand words by 5 am, effectively breaking his 3 thousand word record from just a few months ago. If he could keep up the pace he could finish the book within the next month and send it to Tsuge for editing and review. He sent a quick text to his friend to tell him the good news and got into bed; he would probably regret staying up so late tomorrow, but now he didn’t have it in him to care. Writing was definitely his call - even if he was very close to missing his goal of being a published author by 30.
---
The commute to work was nothing short of hell. The morning started with Adachi missing his usual train and having to take the next one during rush hour - not that he ever managed to avoid rush hour, but he usually took the first train during it so it wasn’t as crazy as later in the morning. This resulted in him having a very unpleasant ride, squeezed half to death between the sea of people, feeling like a canned sardine with a bad case of insomnia. That was the other issue, the previous writing night ended up being a success but even though he’d been exhausted by the time he was done, it had been impossible to fall asleep. Now he was on his way to a long workday with a pounding headache and a sour mood. If given the opportunity, Adachi would’ve chosen to take the day off to sleep and feel refreshed enough by sundown to continue writing.
His job was definitely a necessary evil, but sometimes he couldn’t help but resent it. On the verge of thirty, Adachi spent most of his day at the office, writing his reports, Urabe’s reports, and occasionally picking up the slack of some of his colleagues. There was barely any time for hobbies or relaxing and least of all to be an aspiring writer. To be completely honest, Adachi had started viewing his day job as his second career in the past year. His heart and soul were focused on his new goal, what he really wanted. In the end, if writing didn’t become his main income, it wouldn’t matter, he was passionate enough about it to continue no matter what. After all, living in the fantasy worlds he created was more than enough for him.
Adachi made it to his desk just on time, but running those last few blocks only served to make his mood even sourer. He pulled at the collar of his shirt with a small huff, still thinking about his writing and leaned back in his chair until it touched Urabe’s shoulder, startling him.
He turned around swiftly, blush already rising to his cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Senpai.”
Urabe nodded and waved him off. Then, he cocked his head and looked at Adachi in more detail. “What is going on with you, Adachi? You look tired.”
“I just had trouble sleeping last night, that’s all,” Adachi said with a heavy sigh. He could picture so many things he would rather do than give explanations about his personal life, but he would feel too guilty if he was rude to Urabe when he was only worried about him.
“Hmm, are you sure that’s all?”
“Yes. I’m ok.” He attempted his best smile. “Thank you for asking.”
“Adachi,” Urabe pouted, his brows burrowed into a childish frown, just like every time he would ask Adachi to take on more work, any semblance of concern already gone out the window. “Can you finish this report for tomorrow? The boss is really piling stuff on my shoulders and I already had other plans for today.”
Sometimes Adachi wished he was a bad person, or a bad colleague even, but he couldn’t help taking on the extra work when it was needed, after all, he didn’t have much of a life. He rolled his eyes but nodded. “Yes, of course.”
“Oh, wait. Is your birthday today or tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow.”
“And you’re turning 30, right?”
Adachi nodded once again, hoping to end the conversation as soon as possible; he didn’t want to be reminded of the passage of time or how much he hadn’t achieved by now.
Urabe rolled his chair closer and elbowed him. “Aaah, you sly weasel. Do you have a date?”
“Of course not. I’m just looking forward to getting home and sleeping.” That was literally his birthday plan.
Urabe frowned and gave him a quizzical look. “But you have... ‘dated’ before, right?” He winked.
Adachi shook his head slightly and saw the same look many people gave him, a mix of pity and judgement.
“You should ask one of the girls out. I’ve heard Yui is single and she’s very pretty!”
Adachi slowly turned his chair towards the copy machine and saw Yui across the room. She was, in fact, very pretty, but… she didn’t spark anything in him. She looked like a work of art, pleasant to look at, but not for him. “No, I don’t think that would work.”
“Adachi, if you don’t date someone by the time you turn 30, you will turn into a wizard!” He whispered.
“What? That’s ridiculous!”
“It’s true, you’ll see!”
Adachi rolled his eyes and turned back to his desk, finally starting on the reports needed. The sooner he was done with that, the sooner he could return to his writing.
--
The elevator opened its doors for Adachi and the ding that followed made his muscles relax instantly. Only a few more minutes and he would be up in his flat, taking his shoes off and cooking something quick before sitting down to write. He felt inspired by the beginning of this new story and he wasn’t about to let a bad day at work ruin that for him.
Just as the doors started to close, someone put a bag between them to keep them open. The first thing Adachi saw was a girl with a cute and gentle look, a black wispy fringe framing her face and a sweet smile. She nodded at Adachi and he smiled and nodded back. He wondered if he would ever date a girl like her, if sharing his life with a partner and doing things together would be so different than what he did now. The answer was probably not, since he assumed nobody would be supportive of him working all day and writing all night; if he was honest with himself, he didn’t really have time for a relationship, even if he sometimes yearned for a bit of company - theoretically. Adachi blinked repeatedly, suddenly crashing back into reality when he saw the looming presence of Kurosawa behind her, giving him a weird look he couldn’t quite place as he ushered the girl into the elevator.
Out of sheer awkwardness, Adachi nodded and mumbled a quiet hello at him, looking away as a blush crept onto his cheeks. Was that Kurosawa’s girlfriend? He groaned and let his head fall back against the elevator wall. He’d been caught staring at his neighbour’s girlfriend like a creep. He ventured a sideways glance and realized Kurosawa was still looking at him with a weird expression.
Thankfully, the ride was short and only a minute later, Adachi was home, barely paying any attention to his basic needs as per usual. He made some instant ramen and added a bit of egg to it before eating it mindlessly, daydreaming of his new story and the magic system involved.
Perhaps it was quickly becoming a much more ambitious project than he had anticipated but as long as the writing flowed, everything would be ok. What was supposed to be a long writing session soon turned into an early night after Adachi’s brain decided to shut down mid-sentence, putting him to sleep sitting at his desk, his head hanging down and his spine hunched over.
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
How to Post your Works to the SQSupernova Collection!
That’s right - it’s almost time for Authors and Artists to put their beautiful works on display! We’ve made our beautiful, wonderful guide to help you post your work successfully - please read it THOROUGHLY before asking questions! We promise we’ve covered almost anything that could cause issues.
The posting deadline for all works is midnight EST on August 30th!
(What time is that for me? Or, check out our Countdown Timer!)
For those of you with experience posting to the Swan Queen Supernova collection from previous years, this year’s collection can be found HERE - just hit the ‘post to collection’ button and away you go!
Quick reminder - don’t forget to click POST when you are done formatting your work, NOT ‘save as draft’! We will not be able to see or reveal your work if you save it as a draft, and it will not count as being submitted!
For those of you who need more assistance as you prepare to post, read on for more specific instructions:
All right! For those of you who would like further clarification, your first step will still be to go to THIS LINK and click ‘Post to Collection,’ as seen below.
On this next page, you will enter all of the information about your fic/art - starting with rating, warnings, fandom, category, relationships, and characters. A sample page would look like this:
Please make sure your rating and warnings are accurate to your fic/art. If you think a warning might spoil something for the plot, you can select ‘Choose Not to Use Archive Warnings.’ Do NOT select ‘No Archive Warnings Apply’ unless your fic/art truly does not have any of the warning elements present in it.
The Additional Tags section is a place to put anything else you feel should be indicated about your story/art. Is it a historical au? Does it take place on a spaceship? Is it fluff? angst? crack? These tags are optional, but many people do use them to organize their fic/art or to find new fics to read and art to appreciate.
Next up is the preface section - this is how you introduce your fic or art!
Authors - you’ve already sent us a title and summary, so if those still work for you, go ahead and just copy them right in there! If you’ve changed some things up since that submission, go ahead and put your final version in here.
Artists - whatever title you use, it’s probably a good idea to add [Fanart] or [Art] to the end of your title, and to tag it as such in the additional tags as well - this will help people find art specifically!
Notes can be posted at the beginning of the fic - like if you are thanking a beta, or blaming someone for making you do this, or giving introductory notes to the readers about setting, etc - or at the end of the fic, if your notes might spoil part of the plot. You can also check both boxes and put notes in both places!
Now for the fiddly bits:
The first, and most important, thing to check is that under Post to Collections / Challenges, ‘SQSupernova6′ is selected. This should automatically show up, since you used the ‘Post to Collection’ button, but please check anyway!
You can also choose to gift your fic to someone - authors may choose to gift their fic to their artist, or vice versa. You should have their AO3 name from your match-up email!
‘This work is a remix, a translation, a podfic, or was inspired by another work’ - this will be a handy section to connect your fic to your artist’s art, but you won’t be able to use it until after reveals. Skip it for now and come back to it later, once your partner’s work has been revealed!
‘This work is part of a series’ - if your SQSN was part of a series that you have already begun, you can link it to the previous parts here. Otherwise, skip it.
‘This work has multiple chapters’ - If you’d like to split your work up into chapters, select this option. Once you post the first chapter, you will be able to add additional chapters from the first chapter of your fic/art.
‘Set a different publication date’ - DON’T DO ANYTHING WITH THIS NOW. LEAVE IT ALONE. You will receive instructions in your reveal date email about how to change this date later, to help ensure that it shows up at the top of the Swan Queen tag, so you get the most eyes on it. You cannot change the date BEFORE the date of your reveal, so leave this field alone for now.
You’re almost there! First up are some privacy questions:
These are all options that can make it harder for people to leave mean or abusive comments - but they also make it harder for commenters without accounts to leave feedback, so consider the pros and cons before selecting!
And finally, it’s time to input your fic or art!
For fic - if you are comfortable with html coding, feel free to use the HTML editor button in the top right to switch editing boxes. Otherwise, the Rich Text editor will let you do most basic word editing functions, and will maintain bolding, italics, etc pasted in from Word or Google Docs.
For art, you will need some words in the post itself in order to post, so be sure to add a sentence or two about your work, then select the insert/edit image button:
It will bring up this menu:
Source - this is where you should paste in the url of the image you are hosting on another private site - so don’t publicly post it to your Tumblr! Use a PRIVATE post, at least until reveals are over. For a list of recommended sites, check out AO3′s helpful article on the subject!
Remember that your image URL needs to end in a filetype, like .jpg, .png, .gif, etc etc.!!! IT WILL NOT WORK IF YOU DO NOT HAVE A FILETYPE AT THE END OF YOUR URL. Your image will NOT appear if your link ends in .html, /, or any random numbers or letters.
Image description - this is very important for people who use screen readers because of vision impairments. Please describe your image as best you can, for example: this is a four-panel cartoon of Emma Swan, a barista, tripping over a chair and spilling hot chocolate down Regina Mills’ shirt. Regina is in a fancy blouse and skirt, and looks very, very pissed off.
Dimensions - if your source image is very, very big, it is recommended that you shrink it down a bit here. You can always come back and play around with the size once you post, so be sure to check that your image isn’t so big it’s hard to see all of it on a normal computer screen.
Aaaaaand, you’re done! If you’re confident everything is correct, you can click ‘Post Without Preview’ (you daredevil, you), but otherwise, click ‘Preview’ and give your story a quick glance over to make sure everything’s in the right place.
Then, once you’re satisfied, just make sure you click POST on the next screen - this is the only way to submit it to us for the collection!
If you don’t click ‘Post,’ your work will stay as a draft and will NOT be counted as submitted! Please make sure to hit POST once you have everything ready.
Once you post your work to the collection, it immediately becomes an unrevealed work. This means that its details are hidden from everyone but you and your beloved mods! Unfortunately, this also makes it a liiiiittle harder to find.
To locate your work once you post it to the collection, go to ‘My Dashboard’ by clicking on the menu that appears when you click on your username in the top right corner of the page, then click on ‘Works’ on the left-hand side.
From here, you can access your hidden work in one of two ways:
Click ‘Edit Works’ on the upper right side of the page. This will let you view all of your works, sorted by fandom, including the one you just submitted to the collection. Click on the title of that work to continue editing it!
Once your work is approved and added to the collection, you can also click ‘Works in Collections’ on the upper right side of the page. This will display all of your works that are currently in collections, sorted chronologically. Your SQSN work should be at the top, with “Unrevealed:” in front of the title. Click on the title of that work to continue editing it!
The URL of your work will also not change once you’ve clicked ‘post,’ so you can also bookmark or save it to come back to at any time.
If you need to add additional chapters to your work, you can do it by going to that URL or locating your fic again as described above, and clicking this link on the first chapter:
Just make sure to press POST on each additional chapter as well! ;D
--------------------
Congratulations! You’ve just Supernova’d! What a rush, eh? Now just lean back, relax, and wait for reveals. Thank you for participating!
Each creator will get an email letting them know the reveal date for each work they have submitted, at least a few days before the date, so that they can prepare and get their friends hyped up for the reveal! If you hear other people getting their emails and you haven’t yet, don��t panic. There are WEEKS of reveals, so some people get emails very early and some people get emails weeks later. We PROMISE everyone will get an email with their reveal date by the time all is said and done!
If you have any questions, feel free to contact us at @SQSupernova on Twitter, or at [email protected] !
6 notes
·
View notes
Link
After two weeks, here I am again with a new chapter of “Wrap me up, unfold me” aka victorian au! This time around, a creep comes around again (oops), Charles and Lorna have a soft moment and Erik is, once again, horny, but from a distance (it’ll make sense if you read). I only posted another chapter today because of this amazing art by @jameseyebag on twitter that they made of one of my favorite scenes of the fic. I beg all of you to check it out because it’s really good and it made me so happy :,) But, anyway, hope you guys like the new chapter! <3
Summary:
Charles Xavier is hired to tutor the daughter of one Mr. Lehnsherr after the man hears word of Charles' services. Unemployed, hungry and with no home to go to, Charles takes the job in a heartbeat, finding himself in the middle of a house full of gifted people like himself, from staff to his employer and the child he's supposed to teach. In his heart, there's only thankfulness for the man who hired him, but dealing with Mr. Lehnsherr turns out more complicated than he expected, especially after he finds himself falling in love with the man.
25 notes
·
View notes
Text
for you, anything | ksj
summary: in the popular online multiplayer game, kingdom, you are the top-ranked knight with money, fame, and power. in real life, you’re a graphic design geek who’s got a very unsubtle crush on her gorgeous coworker, kim seokjin. but when you’re suddenly dethroned from the first place spot in your game, you and your kingdom character embark on a journey to reclaim your title, and learn on the way that things are not always as they seem.
{friends to lovers!au, enemies to lovers!au}
pairing: kim seokjin x female reader
genre: fluff, comedy, fantasy
word count: 21k
warnings: alcohol mention, brief and non-graphic descriptions of violence, this is basically two fics in one so you get double the fun and double the word count!!
a/n: once again, a massive, massive thank you to @aurawatercolor for commissioning me!! you can find her on twitter as well under @btspresso_!! she’s the genius behind this enemies to lovers and friends to lovers seokjin fic wrapped up into a nice package just in time for the holidays!! you ever seen a fic with e2l and f2l together? that’s right, i didn’t think so. enjoy!!!
check out the post-script drabble here!
♚ HERE ♚
“Oh, shit!”
From twelve feet away comes the sound of these three things in this order: fingers furiously mashing keyboard keys, wheels of an office chair swiveling angrily on the linoleum floor, and a war cry. All of which could either belong to a video game world championships in a big-city stadium or your simple, office of two-floors in a more-than-one-hundred-stories skyscraper based in graphic design and media for small start-up companies.
“I can’t tell if Photoshop crashed again or if you’re playing that weird online multiplayer game again,” Yoongi grumbles from across the way, where he’s gnawing on a Clif bar in one hand as he mindlessly taps his mouse with the other.
“Please,” Jimin says, carelessly waving a hand. “Don’t act like I haven’t caught you watching My Hero Academia multiple times this year while we were supposed to be doing work, you absolute piece of toast. But if you must know, I was in fact playing Kingdom.”
“I’m going to tell Namjoon,” Yoongi says with zero emphasis, because everybody knows that Namjoon’s got dirt on everybody in the office anyway (including Yoongi) and that if you try to expose somebody else to him, he’ll expose you back. It’s colleague culture.
“And what’s Namjoon gonna do? He already knows you carry a flash drive of illegally-downloaded animes with you wherever you go,” Jimin retorts casually. He’s not wrong, and you can confirm that Yoongi indeed carts around a USB drive in the shape of a pineapple that has 64GB of anime.
“What do I know?”
Namjoon comes trotting into view from the corridor that leads to the gender-neutral bathrooms with glasses hanging from the collar of his sweater vest, a clipboard with nothing attached to it in his right hand, and a steaming cup of jasmine tea (he hates coffee and declares this publicly at least three times a day) in his left.
“You know that Yoongi—”
“Has been doing his work the whole time you were in the bathroom so you don’t need to worry about him,” Yoongi interrupts quickly.
Namjoon shoots both Jimin and Yoongi a suspicious glare, but moves on. He’s got enough blackmail on the both of them to bury them into the next calendar year, but he’s wise, and he only uses it when absolutely necessary. “Just doing checkups on you guys before Boss Man calls me back into his office and gives me a pile of over one hundred hours of work I’m supposed to do in a forty-hour work week.” It’s been obvious from the moment you were hired that Namjoon does the most work out of anybody in this office, including your boss, and gets very, very little from it.
“You don’t even have any paper attached to your clipboard,” Taehyung points out rather unhelpfully, from where he’s been drawing hearts on the cheeks of the Surprised Pikachu meme he’s taped up on the wall his desk is pushed up against.
Namjoon looks down at his clipboard like it just spit mad fire at him, furrows his brows, and lets out a sigh equivalent to three years worth of pent-up aggression. “Shit.”
Jimin cackles from his computer.
“Whatever, I’m still going to do checkups.” Namjoon takes the pen from behind his ear and writes himself a note, presumably to get paper for his clipboard later. “Jimin, you’re still working on that website layout for the art critic and photographer. Yoongi’s on coding for that search engine that we all know is never taking off but is still paying us. Taehyung’s on marketing because he’s got the most charming voice and Hoseok and Jungkook are on media production for the indie movie company. Y/N and Seokjin, you guys are on clientele and coding. Everybody good before I go get more paper?”
“Yes, Tiny but Large Boss Man,” Jimin says, and it’s enough of a confirmation to send Namjoon scurrying down the corridor again in search of paper as everyone else returns to their prior business.
“Y/N?”
You turn around from the font website you’ve been browsing for about half an hour to find Seokjin standing behind you, an earpiece in his ear and that charming smile on his face. It’s the same smile he gave you on your first day on the job when he was introducing himself, same smile he gives when he meets clients in person, same smile he gives Namjoon whenever the man is about to have a breakdown. It’s a friendly, personable-but-universal kind of smile. The kind models need. The kind that Seokjin has mastered.
“Hey, Seokjin,” you say, only just then coming to realize that Seokjin is much closer to you than his voice originally implied. You’ve rotated 180 degrees in your office chair and he is hardly a foot away from where your feet are. It’s a lot. Seokjin is always a lot. In the best sort of way. “Is anything the matter?”
“No, just wanted to check in and see how the project was going for that one guy that wanted a nice advertisement to put on Angie’s List,” Seokjin says, leaning down to look at what you’ve been doing.
“Oh, well I’ve been browsing this font website for ages and I still can’t find a nice one for the sub-heading. All of these are too flashy or difficult to read,” you say, beginning to scroll as you and Seokjin both look for one that you like.
“Hmm, I see what you mean,” his voice sounds like honey and if you had any less dignity you’d let the chills send shivers down your spine. Luckily, you know how to maintain your composure in an office setting. And you also know that Yoongi and Jungkook would never let you hear the end of it, ever. “Oh, how about that one?”
“This one? Rose Quartz?” You ask, pointing to it.
“Yeah,” Seokjin says. “It has a nice flair that matches with the font for the business name, but it’s still easy to read. It would probably look really nice with a crisp shadow behind it, don’t you think?”
“Maybe you’re onto something,” you say, clicking to read the fair use and copyright.
“Couldn’t have done it without all the hard work you’ve put into this,” Seokjin says, standing up and shooting you another one of his famous smiles. “You’re the best partner anybody in this tiny media production and design company could ask for.”
He leaves without bidding you farewell, but it’s enough to have you staring blankly at your computer, contemplating existence itself. Sometimes, a little part of you wonders if Seokjin only treats you like this and none of your other coworkers, but then you immediately remember that Seokjin is naturally charming and that he probably speaks to newborn babies in the same way.
Yoongi wheels over to your desk from where his is, smirk lacing his features as he chews on another, different-colored Clif bar.
“Ever heard of a personal bubble?” You ask snarkily, because you already know why he’s over here, and so does he.
“Why aren’t you asking the same question to Seokjin, hmm?” Yoongi taunts. He’s know about your dumb crush on your coworker (of all people, your coworker! A fellow employee!) for months now. He isn’t being any more helpful whatsoever.
“Go watch your pirated anime,” you grunt out, too overwhelmed with the way Seokjin smiles at you to really give Yoongi your full attention. “I have nothing to say to you.”
“Sure, but I’m not Seokjin,” Yoongi says. Then he wheels away and you’re left staring at the Rose Quartz font, whose sample text reads: This was meant to be.
At least Namjoon doesn’t know.
It’s midnight on a Tuesday, and you’re just about to turn off the lamp on your bedside table and get some well deserved weekday-night shut eye when your phone begins to blare, a disgustingly ugly picture of Jungkook’s face appearing on the screen.
You stare at your phone like it’s personally offending you (which, if Jungkook’s face is anything to go by, it definitely is) before you turn off your ringer and close your eyes. Jungkook can wait. Very seldom is he at the top of your list of priorities.
Barely five seconds after you’ve put your head on your pillow, your phone begins to vibrate, this time even angrier than the last. Aggravated and a little concerned—because Jungkook never, ever calls twice—you pick up the phone.
“Hello?”
“Y/N! Something crazy just happened!”
“I hope so, otherwise you wouldn’t be calling me at midnight on a work night,” you grumble into the phone, monotonous voice a stark contrast to Jungkook’s easily excitable one.
“Have you been on Kingdom recently?!” Jungkook asks, and you practically see his eyes bulging out of his head in front of you. One of your youngest coworkers, it’s moments like these that remind you why he bears a striking resemblance to a university student—up late playing video games even on a work night—despite having a couple years in the workforce under his belt. He keeps telling you that he wants to go back to school and get a Masters in something, but he isn’t sure what yet.
“No,” you tell him like it’s obvious, because it is. You typically begin to wind down your night around ten, which means that anything that’s happened on Kingdom in the past two hours you are thoroughly unaware of. “Can’t this wait? Kingdom’s fun and all, but I really do need to sleep.”
“But Y/N,” Jungkook says with a whine, insisting that you stay on the line, “someone beat you! You’re rank two, now.”
If Jungkook’s loud voice and jumpy attitude didn’t wake you before, you’re certainly wide awake now.
“What?” You ask, shocked. “Just now?”
“Yeah, like fifteen minutes ago! I don’t know what happened,” Jungkook says sadly, lost. “I was dueling with another knight when the horns and banners appeared on the screen and said there was a new top player. You’ve been dethroned!” He cries out like it’s him who’s lost their place.
You’re fumbling out of bed, making a beeline for your desktop computer across your bedroom. Normally, you’d be ashamed about how high-school you’re behaving around a video game, but you’ve invested an embarrassing amount of time and energy into Kingdom, and you’ll be damned if you think someone else can outdo you.
As you’re logging onto the game, Jungkook continues to wail into the phone. “I don’t even know who this person is, I feel like I’ve never seen them before! I mean, they must be really good since they practically appeared out of nowhere, but still! I’m a decent player so we must have crossed paths. Maybe I just don’t remember…”
Sure enough, the moment you open your screen the horns blare and the banners appear, congratulating a different player on achieving the top rank. You watch helplessly as the celebration fades on your computer before the leaderboard appears in the top left corner, your name a sad second place.
“Who’s JK0901?” You shout into the phone, earning an exasperated sigh from Jungkook on the other end. You scowl at the name that’s knocked you off your pedestal, before narrowing your eyes to look at it more closely. “JK? Is that you, Jungkook? Are you just calling me to make fun of me for beating me? Don’t disrespect your elders, Jungkook.”
Jungkook gasps like he’s been accused of murder. For people that take Kingdom as seriously as you and Jungkook, it may as well be. “No! What the heck, Y/N, you know that my username is KookieMonster97, for God’s sake. Accusing me of being the best, how could you?”
“You should have just taken the compliment,” you frown into the phone, “Now all the girls are gonna know you aren’t, in fact, the number one Kingdom player.”
“Fuck, you’re right,” Jungkook mutters. “But it’s not me, I swear. You would have received a very different phone call from me if it was. In fact, I probably wouldn’t have even told you and then ruined your day in the office tomorrow. So it’s not me.”
“I can’t tell if I’d be more or less angry if it was you,” you admit.
“Why, because I’d finally have something to hold over your head other than my unwavering youth?” Jungkook taunts. Definitely still a university student at heart.
“No, because it means I’d have to hear the entire office praise you for a day, and I’d rather permanently pop my eardrums,” you tell him informatively. Jungkook has enough of a head. You actively try to not do anything to enlarge it unless he wholeheartedly deserves it.
“I love our coworker chats, you know,” Jungkook says. “Whoever this person is though, I bet they’re receiving bucketloads of praise for knocking you off the top spot. You’ve had it for like, three months now, haven’t you?”
“Yes,” you tell him through gritted teeth. “I’ve put my blood, sweat, and tears into this game and look how it’s repaying me,” you grumble, staring down the Kingdom home screen.
“JK0901 probably did a ritual sacrifice to beat you,” Jungkook supplies unhelpfully.
You sigh. Whoever they are, they proved that they are just as good at Kingdom as you are, a veteran player with an embarrassing several years of experience under your belt. In fact, they proved that they’re better than you.
♚ THERE ♚
It’s cloudy today, which means that more of the market stalls are out on the main street. You pass by them on your way to the castle, vendors calling out to you with promises of apples, jewelry, and perfumes.
You’ve got money to burn and your responsibilities can wait a couple of minutes, so you indulge one of the stalls and purchase a couple of apples. One should give you a bit of energy now, and the rest can be roasted later for a better meal.
“Miss Y/N, off to the palace?” The vendor asks. From how much you frequent this part of the kingdom, every artisan, farmer, and merchant alike knows your name. That, and the fact that you’ve amassed quite a group of followers from your daily knightly escapades.
“Of course,” you respond happily, paying the merchant with a couple of silver coins and then some, just as a thanks. The extra money helps the farmers raise the quality of their crops and allows them to earn more for their efforts. It also boosts your standing amongst the townsfolk. “His Majesty requested my presence for further instructions on fortification, most likely. But I’m just honored to be recognized.”
“As you should!” The man responds dutifully. “You are our best knight, after all.”
“Please, you flatter me. When the work day is done, go home and feed your children well, alright?” You ask, giving a firm nod to the merchant before you’re on your way. As you stroll down the stone-paved path, other vendors call out to you, hoping that you, too, will indulge in their finest clothes and trinkets on your way to the castle.
Maybe another day.
You take a hearty bite of the apple as you head towards the palace, a satisfying crunch ringing through your ears as the townsfolk nod and bow to you. It’s easy to figure out that you’re the top-ranked knight in the kingdom, with badges of honor pinned to your torso, ink black armor clinging tightly to your body, and red sashes tied around the black ones on your wrist, signifying approval from the highest ranking military official in the kingdom: the king himself.
The guards at the palace gates step aside as you nod to each other, bowing courteously. You repeat this process several more times as you slowly proceed towards the throne room, where the King (and maybe the Queen) are likely to be waiting for you. They had increased their security at every door frame after an attempted assassination several months ago, which you (with the help of other high-ranking knights and castle officials) discovered was a plot orchestrated by Their Majesty’s second-most-trusted advisor.
Finally, you reach the golden arches that signify that you’ve arrived at the most expensive room in the entire palace (save for Her Majesty’s bathroom, which, though you have never been inside, is rumored to have a golden bathtub and sacred water from the River Blancheur, over two thousand miles away. But you cannot confirm nor deny.), threatening red doors slowly creaking open as the King and Queen come into view.
They’re sitting on their thrones, as per usual, but they aren’t the only ones in the room like they normally are. Instead, there’s another knight, as equally decked out as you, standing before them, arms crossed behind their back.
“We hope that you can wear these honors proudly and do your duties with pride,” the King says regally, deep, thick voice echoing throughout the room.
“I will stop at nothing to ensure this kingdom’s greatness,” the knight says back, just as formal. The knight gives a long bow, red sashes around their wrist dangling towards the ground. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think you were being replaced. But of course, that’s not the case.
“Oh, Y/N,” the Queen says happily, noticing your waiting right in front of the closed doors to the throne room. “Prudent, as always.”
“I aspire to please,” you say with a bow. The King gives you a warm smile, one you’re willing to bet that this other knight isn’t often on the receiving end of.
“Your timing is impeccable,” the King says, ushering for you to come forward. You do so, taking calculated steps along the red carpet, woven nearly two centuries ago and maintained ever since. “We were just congratulating Sir JK on his recent accomplishments in the Black Forest.”
“Of course,” you say with a nod, refusing to turn to your left so you can stare down this Sir JK for yourself. “The military made groundbreaking strides for our kingdom there.”
“You are the first person to know this, other than him, of course, but we’ve decided to appoint him as the Head of the Royal Knights of the Kingdom of Kalar,” the King says proudly.
It takes everything in your willpower not to let your mouth drop open. You blink rapidly, making sure that you aren’t in a daze nor still asleep. Sure enough, you’re wide awake and your ears and eyes seem to be working perfectly. The knight next to you is taking over the highest position a knight can hold in your kingdom, one that even you haven’t been given.
You’ve been replaced.
“What an incredible honor,” you say, body stiff. You can practically feel the ego of the knight next to you radiating off of him. It makes your nerves twitch.
“I think so as well,” the King says proudly. He has, luckily, not picked up on your sudden mood change. “So, I’ve called you here to appoint you as his second-in-command.”
You bow graciously at his words, ensuring that, despite your bitter attitude, you are still thankful for this opportunity. Mostly. You are mostly thankful for this opportunity.
“I’m honored and grateful, Your Majesties,” you say, head facing the carpet. “I would rather die than let down my kingdom.”
“You two are to work together closely,” the Queen advises, words that make your ears bleed. Oh, wonderful, now you have to work hand-in-hand with the person that stole your favor with the royal household right from underneath your feet? You can think of nothing more enjoyable. “Your cooperation alone will ensure the utmost safety and security of this kingdom.”
“We shall do better than our best,” the knight beside you says. His words make your eyes roll back into your head, but you’ve been a bigger brownnoser in your past. You can forgive that, even if the man next to you radiates an energy you’d rather not surround yourself with.
“I’m pleased to hear it. Your training and work together begins now, so do not hesitate to get to know each other.”
You and him take one baited breath each before turning to each other. You both bow out of obligatory respect, which satisfies the King and Queen well enough. And as you come up, you catch a glimpse of each other’s eyes. His are dark, rounded pupils. They’re hiding something.
You’re determined to figure out what it is.
“Call me J,” the knight says the moment you’ve stepped foot outside of the palace. The setting sun shines dimly on the main road, and many of the vendors are beginning to pack up their belongings in order to head home.
“Okay, J,” you say suspiciously. Everything about him unsettles you slightly. Perhaps it’s the fact that behind the armor and the mask and the badges, he’s extremely good-looking. Or maybe it’s the fact that he swiped the top-ranking knight position right from your fingertips. It must be that. “It’s baffling to me that we haven’t met yet. If you’ve been in such high favor with the King and Queen, then I must have seen you somewhere.” You wonder if he can hear the bitterness lacing your features. You sure hope that he can.
“I guess our paths just never crossed,” J says, taking a bite out of a peach he just purchased from a farmer’s daughter, who was watching over the stall as her father haggled with another vendor. You watched as he winked to the girl as she gave him two peaches for the price of one. “I’m more on the ground than you are, am I not? You spend much of your time strategizing in the castle.”
“You don’t know what I do,” you huff out. He finishes the peach and wraps up the pip in a piece of cloth from his pocket before tucking it away. There is no place to dispose of it on the main street anyway.
“Don’t I?” J says with a sly grin, one that makes you want to kick him in the shin and push him into the grass. “Everyone knows what you do, Y/N. You were the King and Queen’s favorite.”
The way he uses the past tense doesn’t go unnoticed by you.
“But, as it seems, being on the battlefield outweighs directing it from above,” J says. He keeps his eyes off of you and his head held high while your gaze focuses in on him out of pure fury, just another way to hold his newfound superiority over your head. Five minutes next to him and he already seems to know how to push every single one of your buttons.
“So it seems,” you say bitterly.
“You and I really must get along, Y/N,” J says casually as you begin to stray from the hustle of the main street. Neither of you seem to have a particularly clear destination in mind, only a path that must be taken for the sake of the greater good. It’s only the prospect that if you do well enough, you’ll impress the King and Queen and regain your favor with them that’s keeping you from socking J in the face and dashing off, taking his second peach with you. “We’ll be spending lots of time together.”
“Doesn’t that sound like the bee’s knees,” you mutter to yourself. For the greater good.
“Should it not?” J asks innocently. It makes you want to wipe that smirk right off of his face, that knowing tone in his voice. “I certainly don’t have a problem with you, Y/N. Do you happen to have one with me?”
He asks it because he knows that whatever you say will incriminate you. He knows that if you say no, you’re a goddamn liar, and that if you say yes, you’re weak. Weak because you’re admitting that you can’t handle spending time with him even though you have to. Weak because you’re showing him that he has power over you.
“No, of course not,” you say, plastering the fakest smile on your face. Two can play at this game. “In fact, would it be alright if I had that other peach? I’m absolutely starving.” You can be civil. If he can, at least.
“Sure thing,” J says, unwrapping the peach from the woven napkin the farmer’s daughter gave him.
You reach out to take it from him, but in the blink of an eye his hand dangles it over your head, too far out of reach for you to grab without losing all of your dignity in the process.
“What do we say, Y/N?” He asks sweetly, like a parent disciplining their child. God, everything he does absolutely aggravates you.
You take a deep breath and close your eyes. Perhaps you aren’t on the front lines as often as he is, but you sure know how to fight. Maybe now is a good time to remind him that you received the same training he did.
“Please?” You ask, just as saccharine.
“As you request, Y/N,” J says with a bow, finally handing it over.
If this is what the next several months have in store for you, you wonder if maybe sinking down to a lower ranking might be worth it after all, especially if it means you’ll never have to see him and his bouncy hair and dark eyes again.
You take a bite into the peach. It’s sour.
Just your luck.
♚ HERE ♚
When you walk into work the next day, a hush falls over the room.
It’s not even as if the entire office has been quiet so far this workday, not as if the clock struck nine o’clock and everyone decided to start a competition to see who could shut up for the longest amount of time.
(For the record, if anyone were to win that competition, it would be Yoongi, who usually only speaks either 1) when spoken to or 2) to let someone know when they’re being dumb via insult. The first person to lose would be Namjoon, because his job description is to boss people around. And he’s awfully good at it.)
The elevator door dinged on the twenty-third floor and you could hear Hoseok’s loud gasps and Jungkook’s cackled laugh even through the glass door that separates your office from the rest of the companies that take up residence in this particular city skyscraper. And then, as your loafers tapped on the hard linoleum floor and the glass door creaked open, the entire office fell silent.
Quickly, you wonder if you’ve forgotten someone's birthday or if anybody’s due for a celebration of some sort. But nobody’s come to mind and the lights aren’t off, which means that this isn’t the kind of sudden silence that precedes a surprise party.
This is the kind of sudden silence that makes everybody go, “Oh shit.”
It feels like you’re walking on eggshells as you make your way over to your desk. You’re a couple minutes late due to oversleeping (for reasons that start with J and end with -ungkook) so everybody’s already here, and the office should be as boisterous and rowdy as always. And yet, something’s different.
You’re left entirely in the dark in concern with what the reasoning is, so you just decide that you’d rather not be the one to break the tense quiet that’s befallen your office and settle down, logging into your work desktop and checking today’s assignments on Slack.
Five minutes pass and you can’t help but think that, of the many, many days you’ve spent in this office with these people, this has got to be the most awkward by an overwhelmingly long shot. Not even the time Namjoon showed up with his hair dyed purple and traces of a sharpie drawing with a certain phallic design on his cheek was more awkward than this.
It seems that even Namjoon’s picked up on the vibe of your workspace today, walking in and out without a word. He wheels in a portable whiteboard from one of your meeting rooms and writes down everybody’s assignments on the board in his handwriting, which makes his O’s look like D’s.
Ten minutes in and this is the quietest your office has ever been in the history of mankind, probably. You’re almost convinced that genuinely no one will speak to each other until five o’clock, when Jimin’s end-of-work alarm goes off and you all pack up and go home, and that today’s workday is an exercise in meditation and peace, two things that are seldom available in your usual office environment.
And then, out of nowhere,
“Oh my God, I can’t take it anymore,” Hoseok says loudly, letting out a breath you didn’t even realize he had been holding. It’s highly unlikely that Hoseok spent the past ten minutes holding his breath because he wasn’t allowed to talk under your office’s societal norm of silence, but you honestly can’t put it past him. Speaking is essentially the equivalent of breathing to him. “I’ve been wanting to bother Jimin for not responding to my email from yesterday for the past five minutes. I don’t even know why we’re doing this, it’s clear that Y/N doesn’t care at all about what happened.”
“What don’t I care about?” You blurt out, equally as curious as everyone else also seems to release their baited breaths.
Hoseok and Jimin immediately begin to argue about appropriate email-response time between coworkers and Yoongi rolls a couple of feet over from his own desk to enlighten you.
“Jungkook told everyone that you had been docked from your top rank in Kingdom, and the whole office seems to have taken it very seriously,” Yoongi mutters into your ear, making you scrunch up your nose in exasperation. Is he kidding?
“That’s why everyone was so quiet? Because they didn’t want to bring it up?”
“I guess so, but I was just quiet because it was nice to have the whole office shut up for a few minutes in the morning,” Yoongi says with a shrug before wheeling back to his own desk, where an anime you vaguely recognize as Haikyuu!! is playing on his monitor.
Immediately, you whip around to meet eyes with Jungkook, who looks like he’s been expecting your furious glare all morning. He smiles guiltily and can offer you literally nothing other than a mouthed sorry because you two are in a workplace environment where shouting is, generally, socially unacceptable.
Despite your standing on the game, it’s easy to argue and even easier to prove that your coworkers care much more about Kingdom than you do. The loading screen of the castle in Monet’s art style is Hoseok’s desktop background. Jungkook has a little sword decoration next to his computer, and a couple of his pens are official Kingdom merch that you’re pretty sure he purchased from Hot Topic. Taehyung and Jimin play during their lunch break, the only time in the workday where shouting is socially acceptable, and the both of them came to last year’s Halloween party dressed as knights. Even Namjoon’s in on the game, though he rarely has time to play and usually has no idea what everyone else is referencing when they talk about Kingdom.
Contrastingly, you enjoy the game but very seldom do you actually broadcast that affection in public. You need to have at least some semblance of personal dignity in this absolute free-for-all of a place of employment.
So really, it’s no wonder that all of your coworkers acted like it was the end of the world when you got knocked from first place. To them, that would be like having a winning lottery ticket only to drop it onto train tracks and watch as the public transportation system has a field day with it.
“We’re really sorry, Y/N,” Taehyung says as he comes over and hands you a Tootsie Roll from the stash he keeps in one of his desk drawers for bad days. Apparently, this is a bad day. “Jungkook told us and we didn’t want to put salt in the wound.”
Even if their methodology was weird and slightly unsettling, the sentiment was there. “Thanks guys,” you tell Taehyung with a smile, “but I think you guys took it harder than I did.”
“Of course we did!” Jungkook says with a cry. He is objectively the most torn up out of the lot of you. “We had the top player in Kingdom in our very office, and now what! You were famous, Y/N! Whoever that bozo is who took your place is gonna feel the wrath of Jeon Jungkook and company.”
“Who’s feeling the wrath of Jeon Jungkook and company?” Seokjin asks as he strolls into the office, even later than you. To be fair, it’s looking like he’s got a box of a dozen Dunkin’ Donuts, which is enough for anyone to forgive him, even your hard headed boss. “Is it Jimin? Did he steal your Post-Its again? I saw he had a new pack.”
Jungkook’s eyes widen for barely a second before they narrow in on Jimin, who is already skirting away to find Namjoon so he can use him as a human shield. Jimin has quite the history of taking Jungkook’s office supplies only for a second and then failing to return it.
“No, but I’m gonna deal with him later,” Jungkook says, fishing through his office supplies on the hunt for his Post-it notes, which may or may not be currently in his possession. “We were just talking about how Y/N got knocked from the top spot in Kingdom by some asshat none of us have ever heard of, and now he’s going to feel the wrath. Of us. Specifically me, but also us.”
“What wrath?” Taehyung jokes. “You’re fresh out of college. You’re practically as intimidating as a baby bunny.”
Jungkook growls just for emphasis, and it only proves Taehyung’s point more. He’s always had a baby face.
“Well, I brought doughnuts to cheer everyone up,” Seokjin says, opening the box to reveal a dozen doughnuts of varying kinds that is likely to be finished within the next thirty seconds.
“Oh my God, Kim Seokjin, I love you,” Hoseok says before immediately taking one and a half and bouncing off.
“Save the pink-frosted one for me, will you? It’s my favorite,” Seokjin requests. He’s not even monitoring the box, too busy putting all his stuff away and getting settled at his desk. He’s basically asking to be robbed.
“Aw, I wanted that one,” you joke sadly, already going for the chocolate-frosted one with rainbow sprinkles. The box is nearly three-fourths empty. Even Namjoon’s materialized out of nowhere to take the glazed one to eat while he completes the next fifty-four things on his to-do list.
“Then let’s split it,” Seokjin says without missing a beat. Your heart does the exact opposite.
“Jimin, you wanna split one with me?” Taehyung asks.
“Ew, gross, no way, I want a whole one to myself,” Jimin immediately rejects.
“I’ll go and grab it,” Seokjin says, standing up to nab the doughnut for some evil being (by the name of Jimin) takes it for himself. He plucks it from the box and takes two napkins, too, walking over to your desk as he splits the doughnut in half.
“For you,” he says casually, like it isn’t making your heart beat out of your chest.
“Thank you, kind sir,” you say jokingly, taking the doughnut and placing it on the napkin he hands to you.
“Tell me about this Kingdom thing? You got knocked from first place?” Seokjin asks, making conversation as he lingers by your desk. It’s obvious that nobody’s going to be getting any work done.
“Yeah, but it’s really nothing special. Everyone was making a huge deal out of it, which you should be very glad you missed, because the first ten minutes of this workday were absolutely silent and it was awful in every way that something can be awful,” you tell him.
Seokjin laughs, and it warms you from the inside out. “Then I’m glad that I came late,” he says with a chuckle. “I couldn’t imagine a day where Jimin and Taehyung were silent for more than two minutes.”
“I lived through it,” you say, smiling. “Anyway, everyone seems to have gotten over the fact that I’m no longer the top-ranked Kingdom player. I’m kind of down about it myself, just because I worked really hard, but whoever it is that took over, I’m glad for them. I mean, it’s just a game.”
“That it is,” Seokjin says. “How about a toast to your Kingdom-playing skills, and to whoever it is that beat you.”
“Cheers,” you say, holding out your half of the doughnut.
“Cheers,” Seokjin echoes.
The two of you clink doughnuts, and they squish together awkwardly.
“You should bring doughnuts more often,” You muse.
“If it means we don’t have to work and can just talk like this, then I will,” Seokjin says as he takes a bite, already heading back over to his own desk. He waves goodbye with a smile, and only then do you finally indulge.
Sweet. As always.
♚ THERE ♚
When you were moved to the Military Tactics Unit, the King and Queen pulled you out of military training in favor of you spending more time working on strategies for the Kingdom’s armies rather than sparring with fellow Knights. It was a wise move on the part of Their Royal Highnesses, who feared losing you to a rebel group or warring kingdom, and you didn’t mind not having to engage in the physicality of training with those that would be spending more time on the battlefield.
And at the time, you saw it as a much-needed break from hand-to-hand combat training for years on end when you hadn’t set foot on the front lines in months. But now, that decision has decided to come back and bite you where it hurts.
Because as second-in-command to the Head of the Knights, you (and J, both luckily and unluckily) are tasked with the important duty of supervising the military training of the new recruits. This spells doom in various ways, some of which include (and are not limited to):
Having to spend more time with J.
Having to spend more time with J without letting all of the recruits know you both vastly dislike each other.
Having to spend more time with J in a scenario in which there is constant hand-to-hand combat.
Having to spend more time with J without being able to make up an excuse about needing to attend to urgent military business in order to leave.
Having to spend more time with J.
Attempting to remember how to spar.
So, in essence, you’re screwed.
This is the mindset with which you walk into your very first training session in over six months, a few minutes late, of course. Recently you’ve been attempting to calculate the maximum amount of time you can spend either being tardy or leaving early from events that involve J without you facing any repercussions. So far it’s been working out well.
When you walk in the door, before you can greet any of the recruits or even offer J a slightly sarcastic wave, he says, “Look who’s finally shown up,” loud enough for all of the recruits to turn to look as you stroll in tardy.
“I got held up by a vendor on the main road, my apologies,” you lie like a liar. It’s obvious that J does not believe you whatsoever, but it satisfies the recruits, who return to their business as usual.
“Well, you’re just in time for warm-up,” J says, false positivity radiating throughout every single word.
You walk up to where he stands at the front of the room, wearing much less of his official armor than he normally is. Right now, he stands in front of you in a plain tan cotton shirt and training pants, similar to the rest of the recruits. It’s really quite jarring, to see him dressed so differently from what he usually wears—dark armor and scarlet red sashes. It makes him seem… almost softer.
“Thought you might have bailed on me,” J mutters into your ear as the recruits begin to stretch.
“Have a little more faith in me, for God’s sake,” you grumble in return. You may not like him, but you aren’t about to abandon your responsibilities just because of a little bit of distaste.
“Do you wanna take warm-up, or should I?” He offers, motioning to the recruits. They all look so nervous, so desperate to prove themselves on the first day of training. It reminds you of yourself, like you’re looking into a mirror and a time machine all at once.
“You’re the boss,” you say, unabashedly letting the bitterness seep through your tone. “You choose.”
Unsurprisingly, J decides to let you handle the warm-up session, something that is just a precursor to the main event and therefore, not as important. He takes a couple of steps back and follows your instructions as you go through stretches and basic movements in combat, allowing all of the recruits to get a feel for what knighthood is really like in the Kingdom of Kalar. Warm-up was always your least favorite part during training, so boring in comparison to the sparring and hand-to-hand combat that you would engage in soon after. Sure, it was necessary, but when you were a wide-eyed, overeager trainee, you were willing to risk a pulled muscle if it meant you could beat someone up sooner.
With this in mind, you wrap up the session in a fairly timely manner, letting the recruits do their own stretching after everything absolutely necessary has been covered. It also means that you can sit back and let J do most of the heavy lifting, which, while you’re bitter about him getting all of the attention, is better than having to do it yourself based solely upon memory. You remember combat well enough to handle yourself in the battlefield, but the technicalities of training have completely slipped your memory by now.
J and everything else about him may leave a sour taste in your mouth, but you have to admit that he’s a good teacher and an even better morale booster. This must come from his experience out in the field, on the front lines, where raising his troops’ spirits came as a necessary quality to develop when times were tough.
He speaks slowly, explains everything in enough detail to cover all of the bases without losing attention, and frequently opens up the floor for questions. And as per usual, the recruits already begin to cling to him like vines, desperate to soak up every ounce of knowledge that he doles out.
J doesn’t need the ego boost, that’s for certain.
“Now that I’ve gone through everything, I believe that the best way to learn how to spar is just to start doing it, even if you haven’t the slightest clue what you’re doing. Despite what you may think about me, experience is the best teacher,” he says with a smile, earning a laugh from the crowd.
You roll your eyes.
“Um, sir?” A timid recruit raises her hand, her body curled in on herself. You take one look at her, and know that she’ll come out of her shell soon enough.
“Yes, a question?” J asks.
“Would you mind giving a demonstration? Just so we can watch. So we, well, don’t injure ourselves or each other while we’re sparring.”
A demonstration? You blink, having awoken from the trance you had placed yourself in one J stepped up to take over the training session. Doesn’t a demonstration mean… well, you and him?
J seems to come to this realization at the same time that you do, and grins wildly, giddy. He knows exactly how much you’ll hate doing this, which is all the more reason to say yes. “Of course, we’d be happy to. Y/N?”
You hold in the sigh you’ve been wanting to let out for about five minutes now, taking a deep exhale as you turn to face J. You’ve been in close proximity to him before, but you are about to get a whole lot closer.
“If you say so,” you say with a shrug, trying to keep this as lighthearted and casual as possible. Though, both of those things are likely to be tossed out the window now that you’re about to spar with your worst enemy.
J grabs a mat from the side of the room to lay down on the floor in front of you, and the two of you step onto it. Instantly, you’re transported back to when you were still in training, bouncing up and down on your feet with your fists raised in front of you, ready to take on the next recruit. You had always been quite good at sparring, back then.
Now is a completely different story.
“Are you ready?” J asks as you face each other in front of a crowd of recruits, all of whom are watching you with hawk-like intensity.
“Guess I can’t say ‘no’, can I?” You joke, though if J offers you a way out of this, you’d gladly take it, shame and dignity be damned.
“Well then, do your worst.”
He’s an open target. You’ve never been given an opportunity to sock him in the face before now, and you’d absolutely love to take it, but this is a sparring session, not a revenge session. That can be saved for a later date. Instead, you bounce on your feet like a nervous, excitable recruit, and aim for his neck.
He easily dodges, but you expected that, and counter his attack with your leg. It goes back and forth like this, as your muscle memory kicks in and you remember exactly what sparring was like back in your training sessions. For a few seconds in the middle of it, you genuinely think you and him are on a pretty level playing field.
And then—
One punch gone wrong and he’s got you lifted up off of the ground and onto his back, having grabbed your wrist at the perfect time to hoist you over his shoulder. You gasp in shock, body not necessarily remembering this part, and then—
He slams the both of you down onto the mat, your back hitting the cushion with a thud as the breathe gets knocked from your lungs. You definitely haven’t done this part in a while.
You know the recruits are all watching you intently, but you refuse to lose like this, even if this is normally the part where the person pinned underneath the other one surrenders. With both of your arms and all of your force, you attempt to shove J off of you by using your elbow to punch him in the chest. If you go down (which you most certainly will), you will go down with a fight.
He sees your move coming from a mile away, and immediately pins both of your arms above your head with a simple swish of his hand. The other one is holding up his body by your head as you both stare at each other, breathing heavily. His leg sits in between both of yours, resting up against your thigh, and his head hovers a very dangerous less-than-three inches away from your own. If a particularly near-sighted person were to stumble upon the both of you, you’d be absolutely screwed.
The both of you gaze into each other’s eyes for a second, the wind knocked out of you. You never quite realized what his face looks like up close. His cheeks are bright red. But it’s a second too long because the recruits have gone silent, refusing to applaud or do anything else to signal that the sparring match is over.
And then, it feels like a million years pass as J slowly removes himself from on top of your body, standing up and dusting his hands off before leaning down and offering his hand to help you up. Too floored and absolutely speechless to reject his extended palm like you normally would, you grab onto his hand and let him hoist you up, unable to speak.
“How was that for a demonstration?” J asks the recruits, who are all blinking like they’ve just witnessed something far too shocking for their liking.
Another trainee, a boisterous young man who walked into today’s session with his energy fully up and his eyes on the prize, raises his hand. “Could you show us again?”
You and J take one look at each other.
No. Way.
♚ HERE ♚
Because your office is both tightly knit and also uncannily resembles a cast of grown adults playing various high school stereotypes in a Hallmark movie, every year you do Office Superlatives. Office superlatives are basically an excuse for everyone to come up with a way to insult each other 1) while getting paid to do so and 2) without facing any repercussions whatsoever.
For three years in a row, your office has designated you as “Most Likely to Spill Coffee on Someone Really Important”, a superlative that came about because on your very first day, you spilled your coffee on the one and only Kim Namjoon, who you then mistook as your boss, and thus ensued the most embarrassing one minute and thirteen seconds of your entire life in front of a bunch of colleagues you would have to see every weekday for the foreseeable future.
Thankfully, you haven’t spilled your coffee on anyone important since then, even if you do regularly knock over your pencil cup and send every pastel-colored highlighter flying across the hardwood floor. It became such a frequent occurrence that, for April Fool’s Day last year, Taehyung and Jimin taped every single thing on your desk to your desk to see how long it would take you to notice.
(It took you over three weeks, but that’s besides the point.)
“I know that the saying is ‘the customer is always right’, but this client I’m working with right now is literally wrong,” Taehyung says with a sigh. He collapses back in his office chair, mindlessly playing with the fur of the stuffed Pomeranian dog he keeps on his desk, staring down the email on his desktop. “Like, I’m not Squarespace or Wix. Either you pay me to design your website entirely, or you do it yourself. I’m not a drag-and-drop of a person, and I don’t get paid to be consulted on every font choice.”
“Didn’t you write on your resume that you can identify every standard Microsoft font without being told the name?” Yoongi asks with a frown from across the office. He’s making the most of his gigantic desktop computer, and has a tab open with One Punch Man right next to a Photoshop logo design he’s working on.
“Yes, but that doesn’t mean I want to do it,” Taehyung says with a frown. “I need someone who knows how to let people down easily.”
“Jimin?” Hoseok pipes up unhelpfully, earning an eraser to the face from Jimin, who is notorious for going on a bunch of first dates and very, very seldom going on a second one. You don’t even think that for the entire time you’ve known him, he’s ever gone a third date with someone. Ever.
“Do not make fun of my lifestyle choices!” Jimin shouts out defensively. “I just like meeting new people.”
“Yeah,” Hoseok says like a white girl in a Disney Channel Original Movie, “and then never meeting them again.”
“That’s where you’re mistaken,” Jimin tells him pointedly, already beginning to stand up from his office chair to attempt to further convince him that serial-first-dating isn’t all that bad. “Two weeks ago, I saw this guy that I had gone on a date with last year and he told me that his friend was starting up a small pet barbershop business and needed help with the graphic design for his company. Now I’m designing this guy’s logo and backsplash for his wall.” He says matter-of-factly.
Hoseok frowns. “So, what I’m hearing is that you saw a guy you had gone on a date with last year, and what you got out of it, was more work.”
Jimin opens his mouth to say something else, but he flounders. Hoseok cackles to himself, shaking his head because Jimin’s just proved his point further.
“I’ll ask Seokjin,” Taehyung says with a sigh. “He could tell me that I’ve lost my job and that I’m getting evicted from my apartment and I would thank him.”
Amen.
“Hey, where is Seokjin?” Jungkook asks, spinning around in his office chair for the most efficient way to scan the entire office in search of the man. “He was just here watching One Punch Man with Yoongi.”
“I didn’t even notice he had gotten up,” Yoongi says, turning to the empty spot next to him where Seokjin once was.
“I’ll go look for him, I need to grab something from the printer, anyway,” you volunteer, pushing your chair back, standing up, and avoiding the gazes of anybody in the office who happens to have knowledge of your not-so-secret secret crush. This means that you are staring down at the lines of the wooden planks in the floor as you walk over to the back hallway, because every single person in the room currently has at least… well… some insight.
“He’s all yours, Y/N,” Taehyung wolf whistles, making you roll your eyes as you head down the hallway.
Too busy counting the planks that make up the hardwood floor and hoping that you’ll maybe be able to identify Seokjin by the shoes he’s wearing rather than anything else, you don’t look at where you’re going as you make a beeline for the printing room. That is, you make a beeline for the printing room until you crash right into an unsuspecting colleague.
“Oh, shit!” Said colleague cries out.
Oh God.
You look up to find Seokjin standing in front of you, a nearly-empty cup of low-grade office coffee in his hand, and a growing brown stain on his pale blue dress shirt. One look on the floor and there’s a puddle of coffee gathered at your feet, wet splotches on your flats and his loafers.
“Y/N, are you alright?” Seokjin asks, eyes wide and apologetic as he immediately searches for some place to put down his coffee to avoid any more casualties. He looks right at you, making you want to curl in on yourself, before his eyes train down to your torso.
Only then do you realize he’s not shamelessly staring at your chest, but rather at the massive brown stain on the front of your blouse, quickly seeping into the fabric, the scalding temperature of the coffee having gone right over your head the moment you realized who exactly it was that you crashed into.
“Uh…” you stammer, brain crashing as everything that’s just happened in the past thirty seconds catches up to you all at once.
“Oh my God, I’m such a mess,” Seokjin says, fumbling awkwardly as he finally finds a trash can to toss his sad lump of a coffee cup into.
No you’re not, you want to tell him, but the words don’t come out and you’re left standing there, looking sort of like you blame him for everything, when in reality, you just have no idea how to function in front of him.
“Coffee stains,” Seokjin says, hands fishing through his seemingly bottomless pants pockets (he could probably fit an entire Nintendo Switch and its dock in there) until he pulls out this measly little thing that vaguely resembles your orange highlighter. “Here, I have a Tide To-Go pen.”
Before you can tell him that you can just deal with the stain and wash it in the privacy of your own home where you don’t look like a bumbling idiot, he grabs your hand and pulls you into the gender neutral bathroom nearby, locking the door as the light flickers on.
“Here, do you need help?” Seokjin asks, holding out his Tide To-Go pen as he wets a paper towel made of entirely recycled materials and begins fruitlessly dabbing at his shirt.
“I’m alright, really,” you insist, staring into the mirror and trying desperately to avoid the fact that Seokjin’s shirt becomes transparent when it’s wet. Maybe quitting your job and moving to another city doesn’t sound unappealing after all. “I can just get it out with OxiClean at my apartment, Seokjin, seriously.”
“Are you sure? That’s what the Tide To-Go pen is for,” Seokjin says, holding it out towards you again as a final attempt to get you to use it.
“No offense, Seokjin, but I don’t know if the Tide To-Go pen is even going to make a dent in the stain on my shirt,” you chuckle, the only thing you can think of to get him to stop offering the thing to you. The Tide To-Go pen is meant for when you accidentally get a bit of ketchup onto your jeans as you move the french fry from your plate to your mouth. Not when you’ve got a giant coffee stain on the front of your shirt.
“God, I’m so sorry, Y/N,” Seokjin says, unbuttoning the top two buttons of his shirt to try and get a better grip on the fabric as he relentlessly scrubs at it. God help you. He may as well take the whole thing off at this point—though you really, really hope that he doesn’t. “I’m such a klutz.”
“No, it’s my fault, I wasn’t looking where I was going,” you tell him. You still know that you passed by 107 wooden planks before you crashed into him, because that is what you do when you don’t want to look anyone in the eye.
“Seriously, though, I had the cup of coffee. I feel really bad, I could pay to get it dry cleaned for you?” He offers, eyes wide and in search of some way to make it up to you.
“No, no, that’s not necessary. I’m can handle a stain, Seokjin. I’m an adult. I live in my own apartment and everything,” you say firmly, refusing to accept anything else from him. God, if he paid for your dry-cleaning, you’d never be able to live that down. “Maybe I’ll finally stop being voted Most Likely to Spill Coffee on Someone Important,” you joke, trying to make light of the fact that you’re standing in the tiny gender-neutral bathroom together, Seokjin’s practically got half of his transparent dress shirt unbuttoned, and you both have massive and very conspicuous brown stains on your tops. All wonderful, wonderful things.
At this point, Seokjin stares down at his shirt and, quite frankly, just gives up, smoothing out his shirt as best as he can and tossing the poor, now-coffee-colored paper towel away.
“I suppose it’s high time we give you a break for always knocking over that pencil cup of yours,” Seokjin jokes back as he opens the door, motioning for you to leave first.
“We should invest in some Velcro for it,” you suggest, making Seokjin chuckle as he shuts the door behind him.
“Uh… what the fuck?”
The two of you are stopped in your tracks by a particularly suspicious Taehyung, who just witnessed the two of you walk out of the same bathroom with both of your clothes fairly askew.
“It’s not what it looks like,” you immediately tell him, eyes wide. Count on him to get the wrong idea.
“Okay,” Taehyung says, eyes narrowed. “Sure.”
“Taehyung, come on, I spilled coffee on the both of us,” Seokjin attempts, but Taehyung is absolutely not having it.
“That’s what they all say,” he says cryptically, nodding as he heads to the printer room with his eyes still narrowed. He glares at the both of you until he rounds the corner, out of sight, and by then your cheeks have heated up so badly you think you might actually start sweating.
“Now the whole office is going to think we’re dating,” you say, somewhat jokingly but also somewhat seriously. There’s no way Taehyung’s going to be able to keep his mouth shut for any longer than the next five minutes.
Seokjin laughs, looking at you and shrugging. “There are worse things, right?”
Are there?
♚ THERE ♚
“Oh, Y/N!”
You inhale.
Of all of the places in the Kingdom that J has not yet infiltrated and ruined for you, the small cafe on the edge of the kingdom borders has to have been the last one. You discovered it while you were on night watch as a baby knight, a task given to those too dedicated to the job to release but not yet prepared enough to fight on the front lines. It’s a quiet place, open more hours of the day than closed, owned by an old lady with no other family to take care of the business. You’ve already promised her that after she passes, you will immediately begin funding the cafe yourself, too much money on your hands and not enough wonderful places like this to spend it on.
When days are loud and hectic, when the King and Queen and all of their military advisors are stressed and have been snapping at you all day, this is where you come. The old lady keeps her door open especially for you (at least that’s what she tells you), always with a steaming cup of jasmine tea and a wise old story to tell you. Sometimes, you’ll get to tell a story back, and you exchange words of wisdom from a knight at the highest ranking in the kingdom and an elder with many years of experience in the kingdom behind her. She always tells you, “keep your eyes wide and your heart open, because things can only enter it if you’re looking out for them.”
You’ve held those words close to your soul ever since the first time you heard them.
But when your eyes are wide and staring down a certain knight in the kingdom who seems to have stumbled upon your one sacred place, you’re a little bothered, to say the least.
You exhale.
“Fancy seeing you here,” you say sourly, the scalding tea burning your tongue as you take a sip.
“I’ve never seen this place before,” J admits helplessly, already bowing to the old lady who runs the place. He introduces himself handsomely, and much like everyone else bewitched by his good looks and unrealistically charismatic personality, she immediately warms up to him.
“I wish it could stay that way,” you mumble to yourself, far too quiet for anyone except you and your tea to hear. “It’s far away,” you say to him as the lady ushers him to the seat next to yours, already promising him tea on the house. You sigh. “Wouldn’t expect you to go hunting for a nice tea place when there are so many wonderful places in the city.”
“I guess it’s nice to branch out,” J says with a shrug. “I have to say that I don’t really go out to cafes all that often. Too busy.”
“You know I understand how that goes,” you tell him honestly. For once, it’s something you can actually relate to. “But I think that it’s important to take a break from our duties and just relax. We don’t have much time to do that, you know.”
The lady brings over tea, and J insists he pay her for it despite her insistence for him not to. She shuffles off into the back before he can even get out some coins.
“Tell me, where can I leave this? I feel terrible not paying,” J asks you. It catches you off guard, really, mostly because he seems to be the kind of person who walks around the center square winking at every vendor in the hopes of receiving free merchandise.
“Oh,” you say, embarrassingly speechless. “Well, I suppose I could take it and give it to her. If we left rather soon then we could simply leave it on the counter for her to find. It’s likely that she won’t come back out for a while, since I have company.”
“Am I your company, Y/N?” J asks, almost teasingly. It makes you want to chuck your cup of jasmine tea into his face.
“Don’t think too much of it,” you advise him, a warning to tell him to knock it off. “We’re just here together.”
“Lucky us,” J says, holding up his cup of tea for a toast. You indulge him (begrudgingly so), letting your glasses clink together as you both finish a much needed warm drink on a chilly afternoon.
Too soon, the respite of the cafe is broken by a knock at the door. You both turn to find a messenger waiting patiently outside the cafe, motioning for J to come and speak to him.
“If you’ll excuse me,” J says, scooting back his chair and heading over, shutting the door behind him.
The moment the door closes, the old lady reappears from the back of the room, collecting your finished cups as you both listen intently to the murmuring outside.
“That young man mentioned that the two of you spend lots of time together,” the muses, cleaning the cups with a wet rag. She’s got a knowing look in her eye, like she’s picked up on something the both of you seem to have overlooked.
“We’re both knights,” you correct. It’s important to you that she knows that you don’t spend time together out of personal preference. It’s merely obligation. “So we see each other quite often.”
“I’ve never seen him around before,” she says pointedly, “but he seems to know quite a lot about you.”
“Oh, not really,” you insist. How could he? You’ve barely known him a month. Still, it’s clear that the lady doesn’t believe you.
“As you say,” she says, skeptical.
You’re about to open your mouth and reject her notions further, but then the door opens up again, and J looks terribly apologetic as he walks inside, joining your side. “We’ve been called in.”
As per usual, the Kingdom appears with impeccable timing to ruin the rest of your afternoon. It has a striking tendency to do that.
“For what?” You ask, exasperated. J doesn’t look much happier.
“Criminal hearings,” J says, and the words make you you toss your head back and sigh.
Criminal hearings and its many, many procedures are quite possibly your least favorite part of being a top-ranked royal knight. With your knowledge of the ins and outs of the military and the kingdom’s inner workings, as well as with you being an advisor to the generals and the King and Queen, you are often obligated to attend these, just in case there is a desperate need for the technicalities of military crimes that no one else can provide. It is, admittedly, extremely boring, since you can’t really offer any sort of insight or opinion on the actual criminal and their crime at hand.
“Fine,” you say, suddenly much less energized than you were approximately thirty seconds ago. “I suppose that we’ll have to be on our way.”
“Ma’am,” J says, attracting the attention of the old lady behind the counter. He holds out some coins, palm facing up. “Please accept this from me. I couldn’t leave without paying you for your wonderful tea and service.”
“Oh, pish posh,” the lady says with a shake of her hand. “Any friend of Y/N’s is well-deserving of some tea. You both work very hard. You should take any opportunity that presents itself to relax, and enjoy being young.”
“Please,” J insists, placing the coins in her hand, “a token of my gratitude. We shall return soon, right Y/N?” He gives your shoulder a nudge, making you look up at him. Return? You’d be blessed if J forgot about this place entirely, though you know that he’s bound to come back soon.
Perhaps there are worse things than losing your favorite cafe to him. Perhaps, you can simply learn to enjoy his company, instead.
“Of course, how could I resist?” You say, waving goodbye to the lady at the counter. “We really must be going, but I shall see you soon.”
“Take care of yourselves, the both of you!” She sees you off with a smile and a wink directed right at you for a cause you aren’t too keen on picking up. Old ladies are always so vague.
When you walk outside, you’re surprised to find yourselves alone. “Where’s the messenger guard?” You ask, looking around to see if he’s found a tree to take respite from the sun under.
J laughs, warm and hearty. “I sent him off, told him we would be able to make it ourselves.”
“Oh, alright,” you say with a shrug, already beginning to trudge the familiar path towards the castle.
You take six steps before realizing that J is neither next to you nor following you, still standing on the porch of the cafe as the sun makes his hair glimmer a dark caramel in the light.
“Aren’t you coming?” You turn around to ask, an eyebrow raised as you tap your foot on the cobblestone road.
“Have you ever skipped a criminal hearing before, Y/N?” J asks, and the very notion of bailing makes your eyes go wide.
“Skipped?” You clarify.
“That’s what I said,” J confirms.
“No…” You trail off, feeling more and more like the try hard you once were while training, wide-eyed and eager to prove yourself. Standing in front of him, rocking back and forth on your toes and twiddling your fingers as he steps off of the porch, taking long strides to reach you, makes you feel so nervous. With every step he takes closer to you, your heart begins to beat faster, faster, faster.
“Well,” J says, reaching out his hand to take hold of your own. “Would you like to start?”
When you were stationed on the Kingdom’s borders, you thought you had explored every nook and cranny of Kala. You had wandered through forests, across rivers, and into small edge villages with goods you had never even heard of before. You thought you had seen it all.
Clearly, you were mistaken.
J pulls you off of the cobblestone path and immediately takes you into the woods that surround the cafe, weaving past trees and ferns and grass alike. This time of year, the forest is ripe with greenery, right when summer is coming to an end but the leaves have yet to begin to fade to brown. Even without landmarks or a path to guide him, J seems to know exactly where the two of you are going, like he’s taken this road a million times before. And still, you had never seen him before this.
It’s a wonder that the two of you missed each other for so long.
“Where are we going, J?” You ask, laughing as the exhilaration of skipping your duties in favor of a fun day in the forest begins to flow through your veins. You’ve never done this before.
“Just wait, you’ll see,” he says cryptically, taking you down a large hill. You must be out of the Kingdom borders by now, with how far you’ve been going, and yet, no one had ever thought to place guards in this area.
Five more minutes of travelling and you’re near convinced that J is about to take you to some cave in the floor of the forest and murder you, when he tugs you up a hill to reveal—
It’s a clearing with grass so green you’d almost think it was enchanted. The leaves of the trees whisper to each other, voices flowing with the wind that breezes by each and every one, saying hello to the branches as they rustle. Tall grass and ferns grow on the edge of the forest, disguising the clearing to anyone who wouldn’t bother to keep looking, make their way through the overgrowth and into the oasis.
Never in a million years would you have been able to find this place on your own.
“What do you think?” J asks excitedly as he pulls you into the middle of the clearing, where the leaves of the trees have left an opening for the sun to shine through, a halo in the middle of the forest.
“I—I’m speechless,” you say, eyes wandering from every piece of bark to every blade of grass. You’ve always loved your Kingdom and its beauty, from the extravagant castle to the little shacks on the border, but this is more than that. This isn’t just beauty—it’s magic. “How did you find this place?”
“Strayed from the pack during military training outside,” he says guiltily. Clearly, skipping out on responsibilities has become a habit of J’s.
“Unbelievable,” you say, fingers tracing along the wildflowers growing close to the forest floor. You take a seat in the middle of it all, letting the sun stream through the leaves as the flowers open their petals at your touch. It’s as if every single living thing has been enchanted—like none of this could exist naturally.
“Do you like it?” J asks, taking a seat on the stone next to you. He reaches down to run his fingers through the grass, letting the soft dirt gather on his skin.
“I don’t think I have the words,” you tell him. You thought you had found a hidden respite from the hustle and bustle, but he has found not just a respite. He’s found a home. “Why would you show me this place?”
“What do you mean?” J asks. He finds a small yellow flower, a buttercup, and plucks it from the ground, twirling it between his fingers.
“I mean, why would you bring me here? Wouldn’t you want to keep this place all for yourself?” You inquire, curious. Certainly, that’s what you would do.
J pauses for a moment, staring down at the buttercup in his hands. Wordlessly, he hands it to you, watches as your fingers touch his own, taking the buttercup from him. You twirl it between your fingers, and wonder what all of this means.
“No,” he eventually answers. “Because a place like this deserves to be shared with the people that deserve to see it.”
♚ HERE ♚
[You have 5 unread messages]
Jungkook (5:53PM): Is it still acceptable to talk about Kingdom at company dinners?
Jungkook (5:53PM): Is the ban that Yoongi instated last company dinner still going? Do you think he’ll be mad if I talk about how I just got a bunch of gold from solving the mystery of the time capsule?
Yoongi (5:55PM): If I have to sit through another company dinner where everyone is talking about Kingdom and nobody is talking about anime or my dog Holly I will lose it
Taehyung (5:57PM): You’re coming, right? You mentioned having a thing that ended pretty late this evening so you weren’t sure you’d make it
Seokjin (6:03PM): Excited to see you tonight! Promise I won’t spill anything on you tonight haha
Your office’s annual company dinner is the one and only opportunity you, as employees, get per year to talk about whatever you like in front of your colleagues, all while getting a meal paid for by your wonderfully unassuming, hardheaded boss. It is both a celebration of camaraderie and, of course, being employed, and a chance for your personal group to talk about Kingdom for two hours straight without repercussions.
Needless to say, many of you are looking forward to it.
To Jungkook (6:07PM): Yes, but only if we get to talk about how I’m still the best at the game out of everyone
To Jungkook (6:07PM): Also, don’t forget to talk to Yoongi about My Hero Academia I know that you secretly love it
To Yoongi (6:08PM): Bring earplugs? Or maybe a manga book to get the conversation going?
To Taehyung (6:08PM): Yeah, I’ll be there
To Taehyung (6:08PM): Probably be late though
To Taehyung (6:09PM): Save me a seat!
To Seokjin (6:10PM): Not sure if I can promise the same thing! Fingers crossed we make it out tonight unscathed by scalding hot liquids
The company dinner starts at 6:30, which means that it really starts at 7:00 by the time everyone arrives, but even still, you’ll probably be late because you are actually doing last-minute laundry, and not attending a special event like you had told Taehyung. Sue you. Your clothes were dirty.
Standing in the middle of your apartment wearing the slouchiest clothes you own, you wonder if it’s even worth going when you know that you will probably 1) be late and 2) have to endure two hours worth of Kingdom talk and other things that leave you thoroughly embarrassed, like your nonexistent love life.
You’ve never skipped out on a company dinner before, but then again, never have all of your colleagues been so on top of you about your very insignificant, not at all soul-crushing, extremely minimal, super unimportant, tiny little infatuation with a certain coworker, so there’s that to consider.
Not to mention the fact that your entire office genuinely believes that the two of you hooked up in the gender neutral bathroom during the middle of the workday, which is a circumstance so improbable you have no idea how Taehyung managed to convince everybody that that was actually what happened. It’s not as if your coworkers didn’t see the ridiculous brown stains on the front of your and Seokjin’s shirts, or didn’t smell the office coffee stench all over the both of you.
So, for once in your life, you are genuinely considering just staying at home, finishing your laundry, and eating the frozen veggie burritos you bought from Costco two weeks ago. It sounds very tempting.
This thought is immediately combated by the fact that you usually have some of the most fun during the year at this company dinner, and a free meal at a nice, upscale restaurant is something that you would normally never pass up. But then again, Seokjin will be there and he will be dressed very nicely, and the rest of your coworkers will also be there, and they will be relentless.
Jungkook (6:33PM): Tae said you’d be late but please come soon! We can’t talk about Kingdom without the best player present!!!!
Jungkook (6:33PM): Oh no Namjoon sees me with my phone
And out of every possible text you could have received that night, that one is the one that convinces you to pull out the same dress you’ve worn to the company dinner (it’s not as if anyone else will remember) every other year, tug it on, and head out. Your Costco veggie burritos will have to wait for another stay-at-home night.
You arrive fashionably late as always, walking into the restaurant and just asking for directions to where the “big group of loud office workers” is, a term easily identifiable by the scrambled hostess with fifteen different tables to seat all at once. She points you to the back room, where you can already hear Hoseok’s laughter from outside in the main dining area.
“You guys are loud,” you say in lieu of a greeting, everyone letting out cries of “Y/N!” and “You made it!” as you look around for the last empty seat.
“Here, saved you a spot right next to me,” Seokjin volunteers helpfully, motioning to the empty velvet chair next to him. In the seat next to that sits Taehyung, who is grinning guiltily, like he didn’t just dupe you into thinking he had saved you a seat next to him and someone else other than the person you were hoping not to embarrass yourself in front of.
“Thinking of me when I’m not even here, how thoughtful,” you say, walking over and sending a glare Taehyung’s way as you take your seat, the glass at the top right corner of your placemat already filled.
“How could we forget about you?” Seokjin reasons, and he says it so casually but it makes your heart flutter all the same.
When Seokjin’s finally started talking to Hoseok and Jimin on his other side, the two of them attempting to explain the inner workings of Kingdom to him (to little avail, as per usual), you round on Taehyung, who is every bit the best wingman and the worst friend in the entire world.
“How could you do this to me?” You hiss at him, trying not to attract the attention of the man sitting on the opposite side of you.
“I said I had saved you a seat!” Taehyung says defensively, clearly enjoying himself way too much.
“This was not what I had in mind,” you tell him pointedly.
“Obviously, otherwise I wouldn’t have hidden it from you,” Taehyung says. He motions to Seokjin, who’s laughing at something that Jimin’s just said, eyes crinkled into half moons as the waiter places the cocktail he’s ordered down in front of him. “You know, it’s not so bad having a crush on him, right?”
“He is our coworker and way out of my league, of course it is,” you remind Taehyung.
Taehyung shrugs you off with a wave of his hand. “Give yourself some credit, Y/N. You’re hot. Embrace it.”
“I will not, thank you very much. This conversation makes me want to hurl,” you say as normally as possible, blinking to show your discomfort to Taehyung.
“You need to stop being so afraid of what might actually come out of this,” Taehyung says, a reassuring hand on your arm. “You never know what might happen.”
“What’s definitely going to happen is that I’m going to feel too cold from the vent above my head, and we’re going to switch seats,” you say. You immediately make to stand up, but Taehyung grabs onto your wrist and looks up at you like a child begging for candy in a supermarket.
“Please, Y/N? Just give it a try, and if you hate it by the time the entree comes around, we can switch. Alright?” He asks, a simple compromise to get you to sit back down.
You sigh. You suppose it wouldn’t hurt to shoot your shot, no matter how terrible your aim is.
“I didn’t order any soup, so hopefully we can last through this dinner without ruining more of our clothes,” Seokjin says, an icebreaker to ease the obvious tension between the two of you. He breaks down your walls so easily, carves out a path in the side of it to waltz right through.
“I don’t know,” you say sarcastically,” you better finish that cocktail soon or we might both be in big trouble.”
Seokjin chuckles, warm and full, and takes another sip of the fruity drink for good measure. “Don’t know how you keep getting crowned Most Likely to Spill Coffee on Someone Important when I’m here, a walking coffee volcano.”
“When the superlatives roll around, I’ll petition the court and see if we can crown you instead,” you promise.
“I’m honored. I’ll cherish that title for as long as I live,” Seokjin jokes, bowing to you just for good measure. “This is nice, you know.”
“What is?” You ask, peering down at the large group menu. Everything looks awfully delicious and awfully expensive, so you just go for a classic pasta dish and hope that Taehyung orders something different, so you can try each other’s.
“Sitting next to you,” Seokjin says like it’s obvious, making you blink at your menu like it’s just offended your entire family ancestry. “I don’t think we’ve ever been paired up like this at a company dinner.”
“Well, there’s a first time for everything, right?” You ask hopefully.
“It’s nice,” Seokjin says. “I feel like we don’t get to talk very much at work.”
“You said you’d bring more doughnuts,” you remind him. Seokjin has held up on his promise, actually, and since the first round of doughnuts, he’s brought on two more occasions to brighten up everybody’s day.
“I think I need a better excuse than doughnuts,” Seokjin says to himself. “I can’t keep going to Dunkin’ right before work, pretty soon all of the workers will know me by name and that is a level that I’m not sure I’d like to reach yet.”
“Don’t feel bad,” you tell him, a hand instinctively coming to rest on his shoulder as comfort. “Some of the Costco employees recognize me even when I’m wearing my sunglasses inside.”
“You wear your sunglasses inside Costco?” Seokjin asks with a laugh.
“Sometimes I just forget to take them off when I walk from my car into the store!” You say defensively. “It’s really bright in there, sue me.”
“No, no, I think it’s cute,” Seokjin assures you. “Maybe being recognized by the Dunkin’ employees won’t be that bad. At least they probably wouldn’t know who I was if I had my sunglasses on.”
“I’m being attacked, I’m pretty sure,” you say pointedly.
“Only affectionately. You’re still ridiculously endearing.” Seokjin says with a chuckle, smiling at you as Jungkook calls your name to tell him something about Kingdom that he’s forgotten. But even as Seokjin gets tugged into another conversation and you get pulled into your own, your brain can’t help but replay the sound of his voice in your head, over and over.
You’re still ridiculously endearing.
“Hey, Jungkook,” Jimin asks over a mouthful of complimentary bread with olive oil. “Did you ever figure out who knocked Y/N from the top spot in Kingdom?”
“No,” Jungkook cries out, suddenly thirsty for justice. “It makes me so mad that I don’t know who they are, especially since they’re getting all the in-game brand deals and Y/N gets nothing,” he says pointedly as he motions to you, clearly exasperated for a cause that wasn’t even his to begin with.
“Jungkook, it’s not a big deal, it’s just a game,” you remind him, the table too wide to reach over and pat his hand comfortingly. “I still get a lot of things in second place.”
“What’s Jungkook talking about?” Seokjin asks, motioning to where Jungkook seems to be on a rampage as Jimin and Namjoon listen in.
“Oh, Kingdom, like always,” you say fondly. “He’s determined to figure out the name of the person who dethroned me.”
“Is that so?” Seokjin asks with a laugh. “He’s got his work cut out for him. How many people play Kingdom?”
“Hundreds of thousands, probably,” you say. “Maybe millions.”
“Millions of people, and somehow we ended up with the second-best player in the game right at this table,” Seokjin says with a grin. “We should be honored.”
“It’s just a game,” you remind him, even though the sentiment is awfully sweet. “I think I much prefer the real world, don’t you?”
Seokjin smiles at you as the waiter comes around to offer him another cocktail.
“Another one, sir?”
Seokjin looks down at the cocktail, then at your unstained clothes, and he shakes his head, laughing to himself. “No, I’m alright, thank you.” The waiter nods, taking his empty glass and moving onto another coworker. He looks at you, and his eyes are swimming in stars. “I think that I do, too.”
Dinner ends with Hoseok and Jungkook gobbling down everybody’s leftovers, your boss paying the bill without even glancing at the check, and you laughing alongside Seokjin, who keeps your end of the table entertained with fantastic stories about his past job at a luxury department store and less-than-fantastic dad jokes that he prides himself for coming up with on the spot.
Taehyung had nudged you when the entrees had come around, motioning to the vent above your head, but you hadn’t even noticed the cold.
“Ugh,” Jimin says with a groan as the group of you head outside once everyone is finished, the chilly night air hitting your skin as you open the door. “I hate that we could only schedule this for a Wednesday, because it means we have to come into work again tomorrow.”
“When else are we supposed to schedule it for?” Yoongi asks with a frown. “Did you even look at the When2Meet? Nobody had any free time for the rest of the month.”
“Well, if everyone’s cleared their schedules just for this dinner, anyone want to keep the celebration going at my apartment? I just bought a box of wine from Trader Joe’s,” Jimin asks.
“On a Wednesday?” Yoongi says, nose scrunched up in disapproval.
“Yeah, when else would you drink boxed Trader Joe’s wine?” Jimin responds like it’s obvious.
Everyone begins to either disperse back to their cars or get Jimin’s address so they can get wine drunk on a Wednesday like you’re supposed to, leaving you and Seokjin out of the crowd.
“Are you heading over to Jimin’s?” He asks you as you begin to walk towards your cars, taking a step every five seconds as you watch Jimin tell everybody his exact address, loudly and slowly enough for any burglars and axe-wielding murderers within a three-mile radius to also hear him.
“No, I think I’ll just head home for the night,” you say, checking the time on your phone. It’s nearly ten, already. Where did the time go?
“Ah, then I guess I will, too,” Seokjin says. “Oh, here’s my car.”
“You parked close,” you comment.
“I thought that I’d be late because I arrived at 6:45, but I was the second one here,” Seokjin tells you, making you laugh.
“Sounds like our office, doesn’t it?”
“I guess. We’ll have to do this again sometime just to see how late everyone shows up,” Seokjin says.
“Promise I’ll be early next time,” you say.
“Next time, then?” Seokjin asks, already opening his car door and beginning to step inside. You stand on the sidewalk in front of him, watching as he pulls the door shut and waves to you through the windshield. A next time sounds awfully nice.
“Next time.”
♚ THERE ♚
The King and Queen never do find out about your truancy, though you have to admit, you were never really worried about that in the first place. Not when J was grinning as he told you he had sent the messenger guard off, laughing as he dragged you through the forest, smiling as he twirled a buttercup between his fingers. He had done it before and he’ll do it again, and look where that’s gotten him.
Maybe you could learn a thing or two from him.
Still, despite your high ranks, the two of you can’t avoid your responsibilities forever. Eventually, you will always have to report back to the castle, get a new assignment, and start the cycle all over again.
“At least they’re letting us go together,” J reasons as the two of you nod to the knights standing guard at the border of the kingdom, by the main forest that leads directly to a kingdom with whom your relationship isn’t all that strong. No wars have broken out between your two lands in years, but never has stability been one-hundred percent earned, which means that both kingdoms must be on high alert. You never know when a rebel group will attempt to invade the land.
“Like I’d want to spend any more time with you,” you joke, giving J a nudge in the side as you stroll along the forest edge. In the middle of the day with the sun high above your heads, neither of you are particularly worried about being attacked. It would be foolish for an enemy group to do so, especially at a time when the kingdom’s guards are the most awake.
“Am I really such awful company?” J asks, and he’s smiling but he asks in such a way, it’s almost as if he means it. The two of you have never been on the best of terms, but you’ve found yourself growing out of the competition-fueled rage you once always found yourself in whenever you were near him. No longer is regaining your first place your most important priority. Rather, it’s doing your job and doing it correctly, upholding the duties that the kingdom has entrusted you with, regardless of who’s by your side.
(Though, even if you’d never admit it, J makes quite good company, most of the time.)
“No,” you insist, a hand reaching out to rub comfortingly at his forearm. “You aren’t.”
“You think so?” J says with a laugh, almost bitter. “I must say, you’ve never been that fond of me.”
“You may have charmed your way into the rest of the kingdom’s hearts, but I needed some convincing,” you remind him, reminiscent of how he would tease you constantly, dangle his promotion right above your head like a trophy you’d never be able to reach.
“Did I do a good job, then?” J asks, hands in his pockets. It’s a quiet day, today. Even the birds have begun to murmur.
“You did quite alright,” you say, nudging him. “Though I must say, I absolutely hate how all of the vendor’s daughters fawn all over you and give you free items like fruit, and jewelry. I’m never given that treatment.”
“You just don’t have my naturally charming, handsome, soft looks,” J says, posing in front of you as the two of you walk. The obnoxiousness of it all makes you almost want to chuck the apple you’re about to eat right at his face.
“What do you mean? I can be charming,” you say with a pout. You pretend to flip your hair, just for emphasis.
“You and I are different types of charming,” J says casually. “You’re strong. You speak loudly and clearly and you don’t ever flounder. You always know exactly what you want, and know the best way to get it. You aren’t afraid of anything, and are always willing to take on any challenge that comes your way. It’s… it’s different.”
And even if he thinks you never flounder, never stumble over your words or stutter, for once, you can’t think of anything to say. You’re walking along the forest’s edge with a knight you had convinced yourself that you would never befriend, and he’s just told you all of these wonderful things about yourself you never would have known he’d thought otherwise.
J’s right. It is different. This is different. And you can hardly remember when it started to be like this. Only one day, it was just like this, and it never stopped.
“Do you really think all of those things about me?” You ask, staring down at your boots as you walk along the dirt path, kicking small pebbles as you go. They go flying off into the grass, never to be seen again. But sometimes, you come across one you had kicked a few steps back, and you try again, earnestly hoping to see how far it will go with you by its side.
“I mean, well…” J says, stumbling. “I don’t just think those things about you, you know? They’re facts, aren’t they? Those are things that, well, I suppose, everyone would think about you. Right?”
“You know what I think?” You ask, looking up at him. His dark hair shimmers in the light, like reflects of gold have been sprinkled amongst the ink black. “We are different types of charming. You’re charismatic and friendly, always willing to listen. You accept things graciously and are always grateful for what you receive. You pay people back whatever they’ve given you, even if it’s not the same item, even if it’s just the thought that counts. You always want to do better, and then you do. You work hard for each thing you get, and you never take it for granted.”
J grins down at you. “But you don’t actually think that, do you?”
“Nope,” you say, shaking your head. “Just facts.”
“Just facts,” he echoes.
When did talking to him become so easy? When did it all start coming to you naturally?
“Did you ever hate me?” He asks you, curious. He knows, he must, that that’s not the case anymore.
“No,” you admit, perhaps more to yourself than to him. “I think that I just hated that you were better than me. But… like you said, it’s different now. Now, I don’t care if you’re better than me. That sort of competition makes me a better soldier. You make me a better soldier.”
“Really?” J wonders, genuine. His eyes are wide in surprise, shocked at such a candid admission coming from you. To be honest, you’re surprised with yourself, as well. “I had no idea.”
“Keep it up, then. You know—”
A taut string let go.
The wind stopping in its tracks.
And an arrow headed right for your heart.
“Oh my God!” You shout quickly, unable to do much except alert the man next to you that the two of you are in imminent danger.
Before you can even blink, close your eyes and wait for the tip to pierce your heart, J is pushing you out of the way, sending you flying to the forest floor and he pulls his bow from his back, sending a steel arrow flying in the direction of the woods. You both wait there, only a second but it’s a second too long, until you hear a thud on the ground, a final breath, and then—
Silence.
The moment you’re both positive the assailant is dead, J turns to you, eyes wide. “Y/N, are you alright?”
“I’m fine, I’m alright,” you assure him, telling him (and yourself) over and over as he pulls you up from the ground. Your heart is racing and you can’t quite seem to catch your breath, but you’re alive and so is he, and that’s all that matters. “Are you?”
“Yes,” he immediately says. “As long as you are.”
You look behind him to find an arrow stuck in a tree, but what alarms you more is the sight of blood on the tip. Immediately, you turn back to J, only to find the side of his arm covered in blood, bleeding right through his armor.
“Oh my God, J, you’re hurt,” you cry out, fumbling for something to stop the flow.
“I’m alright, Y/N, really,” he insists, placing a hand on top of your own, rubbing the back of it with his thumb for good measure. “It’s just a graze. I’ll be fine.”
“We have to take you back to the kingdom,” you push, already beginning to head back towards the gate.
“I’ve suffered worse injuries, Y/N, seriously,” he tells you, hoping to ease the pit of worry in your stomach. “I’m a top-ranked knight who prefers the battlefield over anything else. I’ve broken bones, gotten stabbed, and nearly died. This? It’s nothing. Really. Please, don’t worry.”
“We still have to get you back to the Kingdom and patch you up,” you insist firmly. “Even if you say you’re alright.”
“Whatever you say, Miss Y/N.” J goes with you obligingly, lets you walk him back to the kingdom gates.
You urge him into the local medical practitioner, sit him down on the bench and watch as the doctor bandages his wound, reminds him not to engage in any strenuous activity while it’s healing. He sits patiently, glaring at you slightly and rolling his eyes any time the doctor speaks, which is fairly frequently. It’s clear only one of you wants to be here right now, and it’s the one of you without a scratch on your body.
When the doctor leaves to tend to another patient, you get up from where you’re seated and sit down next to him on the bench, resting your head on his shoulder.
Working for the Kingdom makes you stronger. Sitting in the cafe makes you think. But being with him, standing by his side, it makes you wonder. It makes your heart race and your mind clear. It makes you feel safe.
“I think you saved my life,” you whisper softly, clutching onto him like a lifeline, like if you let go, one of you will drown.
But that’s not the case. Neither of you will let go. Not without the other. Never without the other.
“Really?” He asks. He already knows the answer.
“No, I know you did,” you tell him. Things are different now, but maybe they’ve always been like this. You just never noticed. “Because in a heartbeat, I would do the same for you.”
♚ HERE ♚
“I have not seen Seokjin all day,” Jimin comments loudly one day, making everyone immediately turn to Seokjins’ desk, which looks practically untouched. His computer is asleep, his chair is pushed in, and his desktop is empty. The only thing that suggests that the man is even here in the first place is the messenger bag resting against the desk drawers, though it doesn’t look like it’s even been opened today.
“Probably too busy avoiding you,” Yoongi deadpans, earning a “zing!” from Hoseok that makes you feel even more like you’re standing in the middle of a high school movie made by people who don’t know what high school is like.
“Is he even in today?”
“He is,” you pipe up. “His bag is here.”
“Of course you would know!” Taehyung teases, and he earns a highlighter to the face for his trouble.
“He’s probably just trying to get his work done in a place that doesn’t consist of screaming and constant insults being hurled across the room,” Jimin says with a sigh, turning back to his work. It’s a fair statement, especially when the environment in your office is most often distracting, loud, and not at all an ideal work environment. It’s an absolute wonder that any of you manage to get your work done while you’re here.
“Y/N, wanna go hunt him down?” Taehyung suggests, sending a wink your way as your eyes widen.
“No, absolutely not, no way. I will not be tricked by you again,” you say, very reminiscent of the last time you went to go look for Seokjin and ended up with a coffee-stained shirt and a group of coworkers who thinks the two of you hooked up that one time.
“If you say so…” Taehyung says, voice trailing off as he turns back to his work.
But for once in your life, Seokjin’s absence is more noticeable than ever. He’s become a fixture in your everyday office life, always stopping by your desk with a second cup of low-grade office coffee for you (with a lid, of course), sending you emails complaining about Jimin and Hoseok when they’re being loud, asking you for help on every one of his difficult font decisions for logo designs, drafting emails to clients with you. It’s a sort of closeness that you never really had before—sure, you worked together and often got paired up for projects, but it’s different now. Like you jumped ship on being just colleagues but instead of drowning, you began to float.
Five more minutes pass and you pretty much resign yourself to getting back to your work, knowing that Seokjin’s probably just grabbed his laptop and found a place where he can work in peace and quiet without Hoseok’s shrill voice interrupting his thoughts. You’ll have to ask him what place he’s discovered.
When there are four minutes left in the workweek and you are finally beginning to close out of the fifteen thousand tabs open on your Google Chrome window, the door busts open.
It doesn’t actually bust open, so much as Seokjin comes flying through it and it slowly goes to rest on the padded door frame like it’s been designed to. His tie is loose around his neck like he’s been tugging on it all afternoon, his laptop is clenched carefully between his arm and his torso, and he’s got a flurry of papers freeballing it in a stack in his hands.
“Oh my God, what tornado did you come from?” Jimin asks as Seokjin rushes over to his desk, cramming everything into his tiny messenger bag that definitely isn’t meant to fit a laptop and a stack of papers that thick.
“Sehun just dumped an entire project on me that’s due on Sunday at noon with no warning, and now I have to pull together fragments of a crumbling magazine label before their final review on Sunday afternoon,” he says, terribly out of breath. He’s scrambling to gather his belongings, crashing into anything within a two-foot radius of him.
“Dude, what the heck? I’m gonna tell Namjoon to kick Sehun’s ass,” Hoseok says with a frown, nose scrunched up. “Do you need help?”
“No, no, I’m alright, I can do it,” Seokjin insists, rubbing a hand through his hair as he leaves before the clock has even struck five.
“Are you sure? You look like you want to jump out of the window,” Hoseok asks again, just for clarification. He’s not wrong. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Seokjin become so stressed in such a short period of time before. “At least let one of us help you get settled back into your apartment.”
To your right, Taehyung whispers into Jungkook’s ear, who then does this sort of weird hand movement to Hoseok, who nods understandingly. It looks suspiciously like they just plotted someone’s murder.
“I can’t,” Jungkook says with an obnoxiously fake yawn, suddenly speaking much slower than usual, “I’m deadbeat tired.”
“Me neither,” Taehyung says, coughing in the way people do when they just want to get out of something. “I think I’m coming down with something.”
You whip your head around as everyone besides Yoongi comes up with an absolutely bullshit excuse not to accompany Seokjin to his apartment—Jimin says he has a date right after work and Hoseok says he needs to feed his puppy before he gets too hungry, leaving only you and a Yoongi that hasn’t been listening to the conversation whatsoever to vie for the spot.
“Yoongi?” You ask, somewhat desperate not to be the one to accompany Seokjin to his apartment. You turn to your head to glare at Taehyung, who shamelessly coughs again when he meets your eyes, smiling guiltily.
“Huh?” He asks, turning around.
“Fine, you know what? I can come with,” you say with a sigh, already grabbing your belongings as Taehyung and Jungkook high-five next to you.
“Oh, really? You’re a lifesaver, Y/N, you know that?” Seokjin says, and even when he’s stressed it’s like the weight has been lifted off of his shoulders once you volunteer, and you suppose that there are worse things that can happen than accompanying Seokjin to his apartment for ten minutes.
Seokjin gives you the address of his place so that you can drive to it yourself, the both of you pulling into the parking garage underneath his apartment complex at the same time, waving to each other from adjacent parking spaces.
“I really, really appreciate this, Y/N,” Seokjin says with a smile as he brings you into his apartment complex, nodding a friendly hello to the security officer in the lobby. “I know that it’s a Friday night and everything as well. You’d probably want to be doing something else.”
“Ah, yes, you know me, I frequent all of the clubs and bars in this city,” you say sarcastically as you walk into the elevator. Seokjin hits the button for the seventh floor and laughs. “Seriously, it’s not a big deal. It was a dick move of Sehun to drop this on you when it’s due in, like, thirty-six hours.”
“Tell me about it,” Seokjin says, exasperated as he leans back against the steel walls of the elevator. “I thought I would just get to go home this Friday night, pull up Netflix, and have a one-man movie night, but now I have to spend the next thirty-six hours doing this.”
“Well, you know all of us are just looking out for you, wanted to make sure you didn’t injure yourself from stress before you got back to your apartment,” you say as the elevator door dings. Seokjin leads you down the hallway to his door, sticking his key in and jiggling it until the door pops open.
Admittedly, you have never been in Seokjin’s apartment, but you it was like you had already painted a picture of it in your head from his personality traits alone. You thought it would be fairly minimalistic, clean and neat, not too many flashy colors or kitschy items but things like photographs and magnets to make it feel like an office and more like a home. Pictured it as a sort of very simple, modern home, like the ones that celebrities live in because they can afford to keep their belongings clean all the time, because Seokjin looks exactly like a celebrity, gorgeous and put-together.
Instead, Seokjin’s apartment is almost a hodgepodge of everything he could think to find to decorate, a stack of photobooks on his coffee table, slouchy leather couches wrinkled from wear, various kitchen supplies splayed all over his countertops. It’s the kind of place you can imagine him being in, existing in. You can see him standing behind his kitchen island with all of the ingredients and supplies for this wonderful dish he’s making littered across the counters. You can see him curled up on the couch, leaning against the corner of it to find that perfect spot, watching television.
There’s a difference between owning a place, and living in it. Living in it makes it feels like a home, like it’s real, and not just for show.
“Wow, your place is—”
“It’s really messy right now, I’m so sorry, I wasn’t expecting guests,” Seokjin says, letting his messenger bag plop down on the ground as he scrambles to make his living space nicer for you.
“No, I was going to say it’s lovely,” you tell him. “It feels exactly like you.”
“Does it?” Seokjin asks genuinely, a soft smile lacing his features. “Well then, thank you.”
You wait around in his apartment awkwardly, not really sure if stepping past the front of his couch is socially acceptable since you’re just “visiting” and he hasn’t officially invited you inside yet. The main objective of accompanying him to his apartment has already been accomplished: you made sure he got home safely and that he can do his work in peace. Finished. But even still, you’re hanging around, wondering when he’s going to kick you out for being a weird, unknown fixture in his home.
“Um, would you like to stay for dinner? I made soup last night and I have way too much for me to eat on my own,” he offers, opening up his fridge and taking out an enormous pot. It clinks as it hits his countertop, the metal sound echoing throughout his apartment.
“No, I wouldn’t want to intrude,” you say, taking this as your cue to remove yourself from the situation before you do anything else to make an absolute fool of yourself.
“I insist, please,” Seokjin says, stopping you in your tracks. “I may have a whole project to finish by Sunday, but we should at least spend this Friday night together, right?”
You look down at your shoes before looking up at him, meeting his eyes from where he stands behind his counter island.
“Then I will,” you say, removing your flats and padding over to where he stands, coming to a stop on the other side of the counter island. “But only if you let me help you with the project, too. It was asshole-y of Sehun to dump it all on you. At least let me handle some of the graphic aspects.”
“Y/N,” Seokjin says, reaching his hand out over the counter, “you have a deal.”
This deal mainly consists of you eating some of Seokjin’s homemade soup on his couches, your laptops on his coffee table and that ridiculously thick stack of papers spread out amongst you. Seokjin already has a fair bit of information about the project at hand, but he still has absolutely zero progress since he received the assignment four minutes before the end of the workweek.
“So, basically, what we have to do is re-organize the magazine’s overall design and aesthetic before their final review on Sunday, because if they don’t appeal to the publisher, they’re getting tanked,” Seokjin says, paging through the papers in search of a sketch.
“So we’re their last hope,” you summarize.
Seokjin nods. “We’re their last hope.”
“Great,” you say, not at all enthused. “No pressure at all.”
“I know. I’m so relaxed right now,” Seokjin says, clearly not relaxed.
“You know what’s making me relaxed? This soup,” you say, finishing the last of what’s in your bowl. “It’s delicious. I didn’t know you cooked.”
“It’s just a hobby of mine,” Seokjin says with a shrug. “I picked it up when I moved to college and didn’t know how to make anything except toast.”
“You’re a very fast learner, then,” you say. “I’d pay you to make all of my meals, honestly.”
“Would you like more? I have a ton, so we can eat it all if you’d like,” he asks, already standing up and reaching his hand out for your bowl.
You hand it over, shaking your head as he makes his way back to his little kitchen, ladling more soup into both of your bowls. “You’re too nice, Seokjin. Seriously. How am I supposed to pay back this kindness?”
Seokjin lets out a warm chuckle as he warms up your next serving in the microwave. “Believe me, Y/N, volunteering to take on this project with me with a due date in less than thirty-six hours is more than enough. You really don’t have to do this, you know.”
“No,” you tell him. “I want to. You deserve someone who’s willing to help you with big things like this. You shouldn’t have to deal with it all on your own.”
Seokjin grins as he returns, handing you your bowl of soup as you get back to work. “I don’t deserve you, Y/N.”
What was supposed to be a couple of hours spent grinding out a project over a shared pot of soup turns into a night’s worth of work, scribbles on paper and the redoing of the same logo fifteen different times on your computer’s much slower, less-updated version of Photoshop. The application crashes on three different occasions, causing you to nearly slam it into the wall, but you just try to look on the bright side. Find the silver lining. Of which there are none.
Seokjin doesn’t seem to be faring any better than you are. You’ve never seen the man under such pressure before, not in the office and certainly not while you’re out of the office. He’s tugged on a crewneck sweater over his dress shirt and paces around his apartment in bright pink slippers, brainstorming aloud as you bounce ideas off of each other in a panic.
“What if we rebranded them?” Seokjin suggests wildly. When you turn to look at the digital clock underneath his television, it says 11:17PM. You’re surprised he hasn’t collapsed underneath the pile of work he’s got on his plate.
“What do you mean? Do we even have the authorization to rebrand them?” You ask, pulling up a new tab on magazine marketing techniques.
“The project description says requests for anything that will keep them afloat,” Seokjin says. He immediately opens an old photobook, buried underneath your laptops, sketches, and papers, flipping through before he sits down right next to you on his slouchy leather couch. “What if we gave them more of a minimalist kind of style? They’re trying to jump off of this super quirky, very basic Urban Outfitters kind of aesthetic, but I think it makes the magazine too young, you know?” Seokjin suggests. “We could do something more grown-up, attract their market audience.”
“Are we allowed to do that?” You ask, thoroughly interested. Maybe Seokjin’s onto something.
“Who says we can’t?” Seokjin responds, and it’s good enough for you to hop on board.
Sitting in his apartment like this, brainstorming different ideas and collaborating on logo designs, magazine layout, and website design together, you are more productive than you’ve been in a very, very long time. Even as the night stretches on into the early hours of the morning, as you watch the clock turn from 1:00AM to 2:00AM to 3:00AM, the two of you are wide awake, the only things illuminating his apartment being a floor lamp by his television and the blue light of your laptop screens.
“It’s…” Seokjin yawns when it’s nearly four in the morning, pen slipping from his fingers, “so late.”
“I know,” you say back, feeling your eyelids beginning to sink. “I’m surprised we’ve even stayed up this long.”
“Haven’t been up this late since college,” Seokjin says, smiling hazily at past memories. “Always had code to finish for my class the next morning.”
“At least we get to sleep in now,” you joke. Even if you still have to finish putting together a brand new image for this magazine that’s about to go under, tomorrow is still a Saturday.
“Thank God,” Seokjin says, resting his head on the back of the couch cushion, letting his eyes flutter shut. “I feel like we did a lot tonight.”
“We were very productive,” you agree.
He yawns. “We work well together, don’t you think?”
“Hmm?” You ask, leaning over to move your computer from your lap to the coffee table, exchanging it for a sketchpad to keep brainstorming.
“I think,” Seokjin begins, and it must be just the sleepy haze his brain has entered rather than anything else that could spur him to express this, that makes him say, “that you and I make a perfect pair.”
You sit up straight at this, looking over at Seokjin as the pencil in between your fingers falls onto the sketchpad before rolling onto the floor. It looks like he’s fallen asleep, exhaustion finally overcoming him as all of the work he’s done catches up to him. In the dead of night, the only sound in the room is his soft breathing, chest rising and falling slowly as his mind begins to wander. You watch him, eyelids heavy, and think that he couldn’t have possibly thought that. No way would he say such a thing to you if he was perfectly cognizant, wide awake. After all, you’re the one with a crush on him, not the other way around.
You lean back, pondering why a man like Seokjin would ever invite you into his home, offer you soup, and shower you with subtle compliments that couldn’t just be friends being friends, and before you know it, your eyes fall shut.
It is nearly one in the afternoon by the time you wake up, the sunlight streaming in from the side of his apartment. It forces you to finally open your eyes, groaning as your blurry vision begins to clear.
That is when you register these four things in this order:
This is Seokjin’s apartment.
This is Seokjin’s apartment, in which you worked on a project with him last night.
This is Seokjin’s apartment, and you fell asleep on his couch.
This is Seokjin’s apartment, and he thinks that you’d make the perfect pair.
You hear a clink from across the room, and turn to find Seokjin, still wearing the same thing he was wearing last night, standing in his kitchen, pouring two glasses of orange juice.
“Morning,” Seokjin says. He pauses, then corrects himself. “Afternoon, actually.” He walks over to you, handing you a glass of orange juice as you rub your eyes, waking yourself up.
“How long have you been up?” You ask him, too tired to thank him out loud for the glass of orange juice.
“About an hour,” he says, checking the time. “I didn’t want to wake you up. You looked so peaceful.”
“I feel awful, I didn’t mean to intrude on your apartment for, like, an entire night,” you say, rubbing your forehead as you try to smooth out your hair, make yourself look less like you fell asleep at four in the morning in your gorgeous crush’s apartment.
“No, it’s alright, really,” Seokjin insists. “It was nice having company, for once. And I think we got a lot done.”
“I still feel bad, I didn’t mean to stay so long,” you say, looking around for your belongings as you try to gather your bearings.
“It’s fine,” Seokjin reassures you, sitting down on the couch next to you as he begins to clean up the absolute mess of the coffee table. “But your phone has been ringing nonstop, so someone must have missed you.”
You fumble around for your phone before finding it having slid in between the couch cushions, pulling it up to see three missed calls from Taehyung and two missed calls from Jungkook, as well as a slew of texts from the both of them.
“Oh, it’s just Taehyung and Jungkook,” you say with a shrug, deciding that now is not the time to bring them into the conversation. A quick scan of the texts gives you a rough summary of what you would have heard if you had answered their calls instead.
Taehyung (9:35AM): Y/N
Taehyung (9:35AM): HELLO
Taehyung (9:35AM): ARE YOU ALIVE???
Taehyung (9:36AM): YOU NEVER SLEEP THIS LATE ARE YOU OKAY???
Taehyung (10:03AM): I WENT BY YOUR APARTMENT AND YOU DIDN’T ANSWER IS EVERYTHING ALRIGHT
Taehyung (10:04AM): TEXT ME 1 IF EVERYTHING IS OKAY AND 2 IF EVERYTHING IS NOT OKAY
Taehyung (10:05AM): LAST TIME I SAW YOU YOU WERE GOING HOME WITH SEOKJIN DID HE MURDER YOU???????
Taehyung (10:18AM): oh
Taehyung (10:18AM): oh wait
Taehyung (10:19AM): OHHHHHHHHH
Taehyung (10:20AM): ;)
Jungkook (12:18PM): Kingdom just started a new event! Get online with me and let’s crush this thing pleaseeeee
“Just want me to play Kingdom with them,” you say, ignoring Taehyung’s text messages and pretending like they don’t exist.
“You really like that game, don’t you?” Seokjin asks.
“Oh, they like it more than I do, really, I just try and keep the obsession to a minimum,” you say casually.
“But they always talk about how good you are,” Seokjin adds. “You’re ranked second, aren’t you? That’s a big accomplishment.”
“Yeah, but it’s not that exciting. I mean, it’s just a game,” you shrug it off.
“But you like it, which means that’s important,” Seokjin says. “You shouldn’t be ashamed of the things you like. They matter to you.”
“You think so?” You ask, smiling at him.
“I know so. Tell me about Kingdom,” he urges, nudging your side. “Please? I’d love to know.”
And for once, you don’t just shrug it off and brand it as a game you play occasionally. You let yourself love that game, for all it’s done for you and your friends (even if you aren’t the best anymore) and your happiness, and you tell Seokjin about it. About how you started playing it when you were bored one day during work and saw a forum on it. How you got the rest of the office hooked on it as well, even if they were much more obnoxious about it than you are. How you go home after a long day of work and log on, letting yourself relax as you weave your way through the rankings and quests, finding solace in the familiarity of it all. You tell him why you love it, and why you probably won’t stop playing it for a long time, no matter what becomes of your ranking.
“It was nice being ranked first, but I actually don’t mind whoever it is that’s taken over,” you tell Seokjin honestly. “Jungkook wants to hunt them down, but I think that, whoever they are, they deserve that spot. You know, I used to hate them because the top-ranked player gets all of the best rewards, but our characters have recently started to spend so much time together that I feel like they’d probably have fallen in love by now.” You chuckle to yourself. If life were a movie, everything would always work out perfectly.
“You do?” Seokjin asks, eyes wide.
“Yeah, of course,” you say. “They spend so much time together. Who wouldn’t, right?”
“I suppose you’re right,” Seokjin says, smiling. “I also have something to tell you.”
You shake your head. “Don’t tell me you’re obsessed with anime, please. That is where I draw the line.”
“Don’t shame us,” Seokjin says, a hand on his heart like he’s been personally offended. Your eyes widen. “I’m kidding,” he says, laughing as you exhale, relieved. “I actually play Kingdom, too. I just wanted to ask you about it.”
“Seriously? All this time and you just pretended like you had no idea what it was?” you say in disbelief. He’s been hiding this from you for how long? God, the rest of your office is going to have a field day with this information.
“I just wanted you to tell me about it,” Seokjin admits sheepishly.
You shake your head. “You could have talked to me about other stuff, you know.”
“I know, but you never talked about Kingdom and I could always see how much you loved it. It was nice, listening to you tell me about it,” he says.
“I’ve been betrayed,” you say dramatically, opening up your laptop to pull up the game. “What’s your ID? We can add each other.”
This is where Seokjin goes silent. “Actually, I think you might already know who I am. I’m above you in the rankings.”
Your mouth drops open.
“You’re JK0901? Are you kidding me?” You ask, absolutely floored. All this time and you had no idea that Kim Seokjin was a Kingdom expert. “What does JK stand for? I was convinced it was Jungkook and he was just lying to my face, but in reality, it was you who was lying to me!”
Seokjin lets out a chuckle. “Jin Kim. I’m surprised you guys didn’t figure it out earlier.”
“I can’t believe this,” you say, practically speechless. “How long have you been playing?”
“Not that long,” Seokjin shrugs. “I picked it up because I wanted to impress a girl I liked.”
“Really? All this effort for a girl you like?” You ask, still in disbelief. You suck up the way your heart is sinking at the thought of him liking another person, but then you remember that it wasn’t like you had ever made a move on him anyway. Smiling, you ask, “Will you at least humor me and tell me who it is?”
Then, Seokjin looks you dead in the eye, and says, “You.”
He doesn’t give you time to respond. Instead, he wraps a hand around your torso and pulls you into him, pressing his lips firmly on yours as you gasp into his mouth, body tensing up before you melt into his touch.
It’s a quick kiss, nothing too crazy, but it overwhelms you nonetheless, leaves you gasping for air like you’ve been underwater this whole time and have finally surfaced. When you part, you look up into his eyes only to find that they’ve turned into crescents. He’s grinning down at you like he’s finally gotten it right.
“You did all of that for me?” You ask. “How did you even know?”
Seokjin looks particularly guilty. “You’re not necessarily… that discreet, Y/N.”
You close your eyes, the heat already flaring in your cheeks. “Oh God, you knew?”
“It was fairly easy to figure out,” Seokjin admits. “But the good news is: I felt the same way. So, no harm done.”
“I’m so embarrassed,” you say, curling into his chest so you don’t have to look him in the eye.
“You’re incredible, Y/N, you know that?” He asks, pulling you away from him just so he can get a better look at you. He’s standing in front of you, looking at you like this is what he’s been waiting for. Like all this time, he’s been waiting for you. “I’d do it all over again if it meant I could end up with you.”
“You would?” You ask, pulling him in for another kiss. There’s plenty more where those came from, but you’re already feeling greedy. Why wouldn’t you? If life was a movie, then wouldn’t this be the happy ending?
“In a heartbeat.”
↳ links are broken, but don’t forget to message me with any thoughts or feedback!
↳ check out the post-script drabble here!
#seokjin fluff#seokjin angst#jin fluff#jin angst#bts fluff#bts angst#seokjin scenario#jin scenario#bts scenario#jin fic#bts fic#bts au#seokjin imagine#jin imagine#bts imagine#bts enemies to lovers#bts friends to lovers#w: for you anything
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
HEAVEN HELP ME
an Aoyama x Iida University au fic
Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33615358
Summary:
What would happen if you found out the person that ordered art prints from you is the guy you’ve been interested in and lives 2 dorms away from you?
Poor Aoyama is denying his feelings from all the times boys broke his little heart, but this guy seems different and became even more special after Aoyama finds out this dude is a big fan of his art! Will he deliver the art prints himself or just leave the package at his door?
Part 3 / Part 1
CHAPTER 4
Todoroki sent the picture and closed his phone. He knew Iida was in class so he wouldn't see it right away. Aoyama and the rest of the gang then started talking about Aoyama’s new boy trouble.
“Todoroki can you pass me that sketchbook?”, Aoyama said as he extended out his hand. Todoroki did as he was told and just quietly listened to the rest talk about the guy in the sketchbook.
“That’s Iida-kun, my roommate”, Todoroki pointed. Aoyama looked at him with wide eyes and grabbed Todoroki’s hands. This was unexpected for Todoroki and he was just a little startled. Everyone looked as they noisily waited for what Aoyama would ask. Aoyama made his puppy dog eyes and looked directly at Shouto as he tried to slightly pull away.
“Shouto! Please don’t tell him about this! This is a secret and you cannot for the life of you say anything!! Please I beg of you!”, Aoyama seemed nervous and well he knew Todoroki was a very honest boy. If only Aoyama knew what Shouto had done before he passed him the sketchbook. Todoroki felt slightly guilty and couldn’t lie. He wanted to apologize to Aoyama for sending the picture but was scared he would get mad at him. I mean oftentimes Aoyama bought Todoroki yakisoba when he would tag along with him and Izuku. He looked at Midoriya and back at Aoyama. He let out a sigh and nodded.
What will he do now?
.
.
.
.
It was now 6 pm and Aoyama was in his room with a facemask looking through his Twitter timeline. Aoyama was now wearing red shorts and a big white shirt that had magical girls on it. He was in his bunk waiting for Bakugou to come back from the gym so he could get some help with his online store. He checked his account for any comments he might have gotten or just any DMS in general. Aoyama was a Twitter artist that just drew whatever he wanted or whatever he was interested in at the moment. He often answered to his followers with hearts or thank-yous, but he had a fan that always commented on his drawings. That user was called ‘turbo_knight’ they were very nice and often times he left comments saying how much he loved the art. That was Aoyama’s highlight of the day. This time, however, turbo_knight hadn’t commented anything on his recent art. Aoyama didn’t really mind it just seemed...off, but curiosity always nibbled at his brain. He then went to his past art post and clicked turbo_knight‘s icon to see what could be the cause of no comment.
Hiatus // UNIVERSITY TIME!
Aoyama just looked at it and nodded, “Ah...Well I wish them luck”. Aoyama closed his phone and layed in bed, the face mask now feeling a little cold. It was almost time to take it off, but he felt a little lazy and so he closed his eyes. Resting them a bit won’t hurt after all if Bakugou came in he would wake him up anyway. As Aoyama rested and his body relaxed he felt the bed elongate. His body now relaxed, but his brain was still on. Shapes and little stars took over the inside of his eyelids that were now shut from him succumbing to sleep. Not even 3 minutes into nap Bakugou barges in.
“Yuga if you’re going to bed go take that shitty thing off”, Bakugou said as he cleaned his sweat with his shirt. Aoyama opened his eyes and looked at the sweaty mess that stood before him. Bakugou was quite fit and Aoyama often told him to take a towel to clean his sweat off instead of using his shirt, but today he was just tired.
“Mmh”, Aoyama sat up, “I can’t sleep yet since I need you to help me with packaging”.
“It’s that time again? Fine, I’ll go shower”, Bakugou took his shirt off and tossed it in the laundry basket, “Start printing the labels, So we can just both package together”.
Bakugou now shirtless grabbed his towel and once again reminded Aoyama to go into the bathroom first to take the mask off. After that was done, Bakugou hurried Aoyama to get out and locked the door. Aoyama still very sleepy put on his slippers and grabbed his laptop. He was now headed to a computer lab to print labels and might as well print out the essay that was due in 2 days. He closed the door of his dorm and started walking down the hallway as the hall was white and the many brown wood-colored doors melted into one as he concentrated on the exit door just a few feet away from him. His steps were muffled and light as he walked into the lone hallway. He reached for the door and pulled at the handle and walked outside. The cold autumn air and sunset were very pleasing for Aoyama. He walked and walked as his shadow on the concrete elongated from the sun moving down as it was time for it to sleep. He reached in just pocket to get his earphones and phone. Aoyama seemed to have forgotten his phone and longed for calming music to be played in this beautiful weather. A shrug was the only thing he could do since he was already far enough from his dorm to walk back. He let out a sigh and looked straight ahead.
On a bench, he could see someone sitting with their phone out. As he got closer this person was sitting on the bench with their held tilted forwards and the phone about to fall. A blue pullover and some grey shorts. White waisted running shoes and their backpack in the person’s lap. He could easily walk past and continue with his journey to print out some labels. He could just ignore them. Really just walk past. However, Aoyama could see it was getting dark and this college student could easily get mugged if he stayed sleeping on the bench. Aoyama put a hand on his waist and let out a sigh as he stood in front of the student. Aoyama looked at the student further and could see their legs were fit as hell. Hell, this student could be the type to run to his classes every day. Well, it was time for him to wake this student up.
“Hey…”, Aoyama shock the student on the shoulder as he stood in front of them, “Hey you should wake up it’s getting late”. The student let out a mumble and nothing. Aoyama sighed and put his laptop on the bench next to the student.
“Helloooo?? Wake up, fella. It’s 7 pm already”, Aoyama shock them a little harder as the student then rose his head slowly. The student rubbed his eyes before looking at Aoyama.
“Oh, I’m sorry...I must have fallen asleep”, The student looked up at Aoyama with a smile. Aoyama then felt blood rush to his cheeks. It was Iida Tenya his newest addition to his trouble list. Iida lowered the hood that was on his head revealing his dark blue hair. “Hopefully I wasn’t much trouble to wake up”.
Aoyama backed away slowly as Iida chuckled from embarrassment, “N-No worried! It’s good that you woke up”. Aoyama smiled and nervously scratched the back of his neck. He was mortified he had bumped into Iida of all people in his ridiculous magical girl pajamas and booty shorts. Aoyama got his laptop and waited for Iida to get up from the bench.
Iida squinted a little and smiled, “If you don’t mind me asking where did you get that shirt? It’s from one of the many artists I like”. Iida got up putting his phone in his pullover pocket.
Aoyama looked at his shirt and pulled at it a little as he looked at it, “It’s from sparklingprince on Twitter!”. Aoyama smiled. Matter of fact, Aoyama was sparklingprince and yes he wore his own art.
“That’s really cool!”, Iida chuckled as he moved his hands around as he then went on to express how much he liked the piece. Aoyama listened as he smiled and blushed a little. Iida was very interesting and seemed like he was very appreciative of art. “Ah…!... I’m sorry I went on a tangent”, Iida blushed as he rubbed the back of his neck and gripped his backpack tightly. Embarrassed. Aoyama smile and chuckled a bit.
“Hey, it’s all alright, no worries. It’s nice to listen to people. I like to listen to people talk about what they like”, Aoyama smiled widely and tilted his head a little. Even though Aoyama was nervous a bit he decide to might as well reassure Iida. Iida blushed and looked away.
“Thank you. I just like that artist a lot since they draw characters from my favorite shows”, Iida then proceeded to look at his phone and gasped, “I’m sorry to cut the conversation here, but I’m running late! Seeya around!”. Iida ran away as he said bye to Aoyama. He was once again left to stand alone with butterflies in his stomach.
Aoyama stood there, his hand waving slowly at Iida who was now gone. He stood there for a second and gripped his laptop a little tighter. Aoyama then turned around and entered the building to the computer lab.
.
.
.
.
Aoyama opened the door to his room and just looked up to see Bakugou putting a black tank top on that was very loose on him. “I got the labels dear”, Aoyama gave them to Bakugou as he proceeded to walk to the bed and fall face-first onto his bed. Bakugou just held the papers and just stared at Yuga.
“We can do them tomorrow if you’re that fucking exhausted”, Bakugou said as he placed the labels on Aoyama’s desk.
Aoyama then turned his head to look at Bakugou and gripped the blanket, “I bumped into him again and I spoke to him.”
“Ah, so you bumped into that nerd again?”
“He was sleeping on a bench and I just woke him up”
“You should’ve left him there to sleep”
“I could’ve of, but I just didn’t have the heart to leave him there”
Bakugou sigh and sat at the foot of Aoyama’s bed. “You’re too fucking nice Yuga.”
“Katsu...Do you think..I..”, Aoyama mumbled. His head was full of thoughts, doubts, and questions. He then turned away from Bakugou giving him his back. “Nevermind”
A silence filled the room. It was tense and quite sad. Bakugou didn’t know what was going on in Aoyama’s head. Aoyama on the other hand was worried about falling for someone and getting hurt again. He didn’t want that. Maybe Iida-kun wasn’t like that, but deep down he was scared. A sigh from Bakugou was heard loud and clear.
“You want to sleep together tonight?”, Bakugou said as he looked away a little embarrassed. He knew Aoyama is the type to feel better after you cuddle him for a couple of hours. “We can stay in tomorrow to work on this shit. We don’t have classes after all and you don’t have to go to work either”
Aoyama rapidly turned his head and nodded. It was so rare for Bakugou to offer this. He had only done this once before when Aoyama was really sad over not being accepted in a zine he was looking forward to drawing in. As soon as Bakugou layed next to him, Aoyama stuck to Bakugou like gum. Putting his leg around Bakugou and resting his head on Bakugou’s chest. Bakugou on the other hand was shyer and tsundere about this so he just layed there letting Yuga lay comfortably and then following his lead.
“Thank you, Katsu.”
“Just go to fucking sleep.”
#bnha#bnha fanfiction#aoyama bnha#aoyama yuga#mha katsuki#bakugou katsuki#iida tenya#iida mha#todoroki shōto#Todoroki bnha#midoriya izuku#deku bnha#mha ao3#mha fanfic
5 notes
·
View notes
Photo
We are delighted to once again bring you -
Hannigram A/B/O Big Bang
We are continuing to alternate Big Bang and Reverse Bangs, and so we're back with the writers back in the saddle, however please note we do have a few changes this year!
The main change is that this year the event will essentially be split into two parts and writers must complete their fics before claims take place in order to continue to participate. The time will be split equally - four months for writers and then four months for artists. This is reflected in the word count expectations, and is to make sure the event is as seamless and enjoyable for everyone as possible. More information below!
If you have any questions or comments, please feel free to reply, send us a DM on social media or email us.
Schedule
We’ve split it up this year so that the writers and artists both get four months each to complete their work.
Writers: November to March
Artists/Media Creators: April to August
We’re hoping this will be a fairer split of equal time for all participants.
October 1: Sign ups open (Writers only)
November 5: Signs ups close (Writers only)
January 3 - 10: Writer check in
March 4 - 13: Writers fic submissions
March 13: Sign ups open (Artists/Media only)
April 17: Sign ups close (Artists/Media only)
April 19 - 25: Fic Claims
May 17 - 23: Artist check in
July 5 - 11: Team check in
July 31: Posting Schedule set
August 2 - 8: Teaser Week
August 26: Posting Begins
Dates are subject to change and any changes will be announced online.
Rules
In order for this to run as smoothly as possible and to retain focus on creators within the fandom, there are a few rules we have put in place, including some sign up criteria. Please read thoroughly before signing up.
Participation:
You don’t need to be massively active in the online fandom, but you MUST have created something for it previously.
With your signup you will be asked to provide links to any fandom accounts you wish (tumblr, ao3, etc), and also for a link to at least one specific post with an example of your work.
You MUST ensure you have the time and capacity to take on the challenge before signing up. Please do not sign up unless - barring a change in circumstances/real life - you are confident you will be participating.
You MUST be over 18 years old to take part in this event, due to the mature content.
All sign ups and claims will be managed through google forms. We will be explaining each step of the process via email, with links to forms, as we go. But if anyone would like clarification on anything, please get in touch.
Once matched, the team will be given each other’s contact details (email and tumblr), so please ensure you are comfortable with this, and provide suitable details. The teams will also be announced via email to participants, and shortly thereafter on our social media platforms.
You may enter as both a writer and as an artist/media creator, but you may not create for your own art/media.
All works should be brand new. No previously posted WIPs or remixes.
Sequels and prequels will only be allowed if they work as a standalone piece.
Drafts and WIPs cannot be posted anywhere ahead of time, including to Patreon, Kofi Gold etc. Feel free to post about your process and experience, but no snippets, teasers or WIPs aside from the official promo postings.
Writers -
The minimum word count is 3000 words.
The upper limit is 20,000 words.
The fic MUST be complete as a standalone story by the due date.
The main pairing must be Hannibal and Will. You can include other pairings (Marlana, Bedannibal, Spacedogs, etc), but the main focus must be Hannigram.
Any rating and warnings are allowed, you MUST ensure you include all relevant ratings, warnings and tags.
Any tropes or genre welcome, canon and AU allowed.
Submission: In March, you will have a week to submit your finished work in order to continue to participate. You will also be asked to complete a short form with information about the work, including any tags, summary and snippet in order to give the artists/media creators more information for claims.
Complete fics will only be made available to the appropriate teammate when the teams are paired, they will not be provided to artists/media creators during claims.
Claims: Will take place April 19 - 25. Once the claims have been processed, we will let you know who you have been matched with.
Team Communication: It is important that you have an initial conversation with your writer once matched, so that you are all on the same page before moving forward. After that the level of communication is down to you and your partner, but please be clear what level of input/communication you would prefer.
Check In: You have one solo check in (January), where we will send you a short form (less than 5 mins) to find out how you are getting on and whether you are still planning to participate. We will not be asking for drafts, but we will be asking for a truthful estimation of how complete you feel you are.
There will be a team check in (July), in order to ensure you are happy with how things are progressing.
Promotional Banners: (optional) You will need to supply your teammate with the name you will be posting under, and the name of the fic, so this can be added to their banner. These can be posted by you and/or your teammate, along with a snippet of the fic, on social media platforms of your choice (we will RT/Reblog on Twitter, Pf and Tumblr) during the week of 2 - 8 August.
Posting: You and your teammate will be assigned a posting date, based on your posting date preferences. You can decide between you whether both team members post their separate parts (linking to the other), or whether one of you posts. You can post on all social media platforms of your choice on your posting date.
Posting: Your fic must be posted in its entirety on your assigned day, even if it has multiple chapters, they must be uploaded on the same day.
Posting: Your fic must be posted into our AO3 collection with appropriate ratings, warnings and tags.
Artists/Media Creators can either post their works to the AO3 collection, or embed in your fic - this is for you to decide as a team. At the least, you must include a link to your teammate’s collaborative piece in your notes.
Artists/Media creators -
The main pairing in your creation must be Hannibal and Will. You can feature other pairings (Marlana, Bedannibal, Spacedogs, etc), but the main focus must be Hannigram.
You will be required to produce one work for claims. You can optionally also choose to create a promotional banner - which can be a WIP or a snippet of part of the completed work. If your media doesn’t lend itself to a banner but you’d still like to post a promo, let us know and we will assist.
Art/Media can be any of the following -
Traditional art (scanned or photographed to upload)
Digital art
High quality/complex photomanipulations, aesthetics, edits, banners (the expectation is that this work should be transformative - i.e. a degree of imaginative input/creative effort needs to be evident in the work)
Original music
Fanvids
Anything else? If we have missed something you feel would be a relevant media contribution, please send us an ASK or go ahead and sign up with a link to your work as an example
Check In: You have a solo check in (May), where we will send you a short form (less than 5 mins) to find out how you are getting on and whether you are still planning to participate.
There will be a team check in(July), in order to ensure you are happy with how things are progressing, etc.
Claims: Will take place April 19 - 25. Artists/media creators will be asked to select a selection of fics and we will then match everyone as best as we can.
Once the claims have been processed, we will let you know who you have been matched with.
Team Communication: It is important that you have an initial conversation with your writer once matched, so that you are all on the same page before moving forward. After that the level of communication is down to you and your partner, but please be clear what level of input/communication you would prefer.
Promotional Banners: (optional) This needs to be a snippet - a close up or teaser - of the work. A WIP as a teaser is also acceptable. The banner must include the name of the fic and both names of the teammates - guidelines will be given for this, including for those creating media that may not be easily made into a banner.
These can be posted by you and/or your teammate, along with a snippet of the fic, on social media platforms of your choice (we will RT/Reblog on Twitter, Pf and Tumblr) during the week of 2 - 8 August.
Posting: You and your teammate will be assigned a posting date, based on your posting date preferences. You can decide between you whether both team members post their separate parts (linking to the other), or whether one of you posts. You can post on all social media platforms of your choice on your posting date.
Artists/Media Creators can either post their works to the AO3 collection, or embed in the teammates fic - this is for you to decide as a team.
Posting: For visual art, please ensure this is posted with appropriate resolution and dimensions for the platform(s) you post to. If you need guidance on these please let us know.
Withdrawing:
Again, please ensure you have the capacity, time and enthusiasm before signing up!!
However, we understand that sometimes life happens and you may no longer be able to commit. If this is the case, please let us know as soon as possible so that we can ensure teams are not unduly affected.
If you are withdrawing, please email us - [email protected]
If you are wanting to withdraw because your team isn’t working out for any reason, please let us know as we may be able to make swaps or involve pinch hitters if possible.
Contacting us:
You can email [email protected], or send us a DM on Twitter or Pillowfort, or an ask on tumblr. Please note that if you send the tumblr ask as anonymous we will not be able to respond to it privately.
45 notes
·
View notes
Text
It’s the End of the World as We Know It - Chapter 1
summary: During the international quarantine in your first-ever pandemic, the people around you slowly begin to disappear. As the world grows quieter and quieter, you find yourself all alone-- no power, no friends, and only one goal: to find whoever of your friends might be left and reunite with them.You're naive to think anything can be that simple. As you're faced with ever-increasing loneliness, you run into some boys who apparently went to the same high school as you. Will you join forces with them to figure out your strange circumstances together, or will you brave loneliness in a world that is slowly crumbling apart?
Link on AO3!
words: 4,452
rating: M - Mature
genre: angst/humor, romance, adventure, apocalypse AU, reader-insert
warnings: sort of depressing content, a smidge of violence, cursing
a/n: hello, hello! this is my first fic for haikyuu (originally posted on AO3), and i wanted to post it on tumblr as well just for shits n gigs. please enjoy!
- Beginning of the End -
It was a Thursday the day everyone disappeared.
The world was quiet outside, but it was loud in your phone, on account of the international quarantine. Everyone was tweeting, making dumb videos, playing video games. You would sit in your room for hours on end, scrolling through your phone as you mourned the loss of your senior year of high school. No prom, no graduation, no more arts and crafts club. It was bad enough that your closest friend group had been disbanded before your senior year even started-- it was just bad luck, but they all left to live in different states while you were left alone in suburbia.
You stayed home with your mom while your dad went to work-- he was considered an essential worker, as he worked in the grocery store. Your mom was much more active than you, constantly cleaning or cooking or going for a walk. It was admirable, but it irritated you how she would always try and get you to interact with her activities. She did it because she was probably worried about you, and she was probably lonely. You were lonely, too-- your friends lived miles away in the vast expanse of the suburbs, and your home was tucked into the fringes of soccer mom society. Your backyard was larger than most, and it was perfect for when you would host kickbacks with your friends. Recently, however, you had no reason to use the large space.
On Thursday, you decided to put down your phone for a while and play fetch with your dog. She was the biggest and fluffiest best friend you’d ever had, a german shepherd named Indie, short for Indiana, as in the archaeologist. You thought the name was fitting, because she could find almost anything with her nose-- you and your mom had trained her to do that a few summers ago.
Your mom had gone on a walk before you decided to play fetch with the dog. You had left your phone on the kitchen table. It wasn’t until the sun began to set and you felt your arm begin to ache when you noticed that she’d been gone for a while.
You gave Indie her stick, though she sniffed and whined at you stressfully. You frowned, and let her inside as you checked your phone. A few notifications from your friends’ group chat:
4:47pm
Kimi: Anybody else’s power go out?
Callie: omg i thought it was just Ohio!
Kimi: Nah, we got it in Connecticut, too.
Emily: New York, too!
They were asking if you had experienced the same thing.
6:48pm
Me: i didnt notice, i was playing with indie. wbu, sami?
Sami had moved to L.A., about two hours from your home, so you guys were able to hang out most weekends if you took the train or if she drove out to you. She didn’t even read the chat.
6:48pm
Me: bitch i know ur in quarantine smh read my message
[Kimi, Callie, and Emily liked your message!]
You dialed your mom’s number as you went to turn on the T.V., only to be met with static. You frowned, and surfed a few channels only to be met with more static before you turned it off. Her voicemail blared through your phone speakers, and that was when you started to worry.
You hung up, called your dad.
“Hey, honey!” He answered-- he must’ve been on break.
“Dad, did the power go out?”
“Yeah, for a couple minutes there. Did it happen at home, too?”
“Yeah…” You trailed off. Indie licked your hand, and whined some more. “Hey, mom’s not answering her phone and she’s been on a walk for a while. Like, three hours.”
“Huh.” Your dad let out a contemplative sigh. “Well, I’m sure she’ll be okay. Maybe she’s talking with the neighbors and her phone died.”
“Maybe.”
But maybe not. You had a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach, and Indie could sense it as you sat on the couch. She slowly tried to inch her way into your lap, as she never really had a good idea of her own large size. You just let her and scratched her ear.
“Listen, honey, I gotta go. But we can make mac-n-cheese for dinner, how’s that sound?”
“Good, dad.” You said, biting your lip. “Okay, see you when you get home.”
Then, you hung up, and you waited for your mom.
[-]
When your dad got home, you went out to search for your mom. On your tour of the neighborhood, you came across others who had broken quarantine and were searching for their loved ones, too. Saying they went for a walk, or to the store and they didn’t come back.
Your dad remained the voice of reason, saying things like well maybe their phone died, or this is all just some big prank we’ll all laugh about later. You stayed silent.
[-]
Saturday was when your dad didn’t come home. His car was nowhere to be found, but you didn’t trust yourself to drive your mom’s car just yet. Or rather, you didn’t want to drive it because you didn’t want to be reminded that it was permanently vacant. You walked all the way to the store an hour after he was supposed to have gotten off. Manager Dan wasn’t there, either-- nobody had seen your dad at all that day; he was a no-call, no-show.
You walked all the way back home.
9:52pm
Me: my dad’s gone now too
10:05pm
Callie: fuck.
Callie: my sister…
10:06pm
Kimi: I still haven’t heard from Sami.
Emily: Yeah, me neither.
10:15pm
Me: we should check in every day with each other
[Callie and Emily liked your message!]
10:32
Me: Kimi?
[-]
It’s Thursday again.
Emily has stopped answering by now, and the frantic search parties that used to pass by your window every now and again have stopped, too. Even Twitter is quiet-- it seems with every passing day, more and more people go silent. As you lay on your bed with Indie at your feet, you keep refreshing your feed on every social media app, but nothing changes-- all of the posts are old. It feels like your world is shrinking while at the same time expanding into a terrifying void.
5:38pm
Me: callie?
Callie: im here.
You breathe a sigh of relief, which turns into a sob into your pillow.
5:39pm
Me: idk how long we’ll have wifi or even electricity.
Callie: my parents are still here. Come to ohio, seriously.
You bite your lip. You think about Sami, and how many times she pried the truth out of you when you were sad, how she was the only one who would sing with you at karaoke, how you promised to move to New York together.
5:39pm
Me: i have to find sami.
Callie: please just come here. We need to stick together.
Me: i’ll find sami and we’ll come to ohio. Then we go to NY to look for em and kimi.
5:45pm
Callie: okay. Please text.
Me: i will. I promise i’ll come to ohio.
You bite your lip, and glance at your phone’s percentage: 43%. You sigh, and put it on the charger while you go downstairs to scrounge for breakfast. You only woke up about two hours ago, though you can’t sleep much, anyways. You think to yourself how your mom would be scolding you for waking up so late.
As you eat the last poptart, Indie lays down on your feet. You toss her a couple crumbs, she eats them gratefully. You sigh, and look at your now empty pantry-- you have to try and go to the grocery store, whether you like it or not. You only have your permit, but you know that you’re a terrible driver. Still, you get up and put on shoes and grab your jacket. You probably don’t have to worry about cops or the law anymore, anyway-- you suspect everything has disappeared.
You look at yourself in the mirror; you didn’t think your outfit for the apocalypse would be sweatpants and a hoodie. With a sigh, you change into jeans and a long sleeve, layer a flannel on top of that, and your favorite jacket on top of that. It’s cold outside-- much colder than you’re used to.
Based on the incredible silence on Facebook, you figure that most of the adults have disappeared. As you drive further and further into town, you notice some obvious signs of looting from once pristine houses: trash littering lawns, doors left wide open. You get the haunting realization that you’re perhaps the only person left in your neighborhood. It’s amazing how quickly things can turn in just a few days.
When you pull up to the grocery store, you notice there’s only one other car there-- a white van, stationed by the curb and still running. You actually pull into a parking spot like some kind of society bootlicker, and cautiously put the car in park and turn off the engine.
You watch the van for a moment, slowly becoming hyper-aware of the very real possibility that you might run into robbers. Your stomach growls, and you take a deep breath. You should’ve brought Indie.
Grocery bags in hand, you exit your soccer mom minivan and lock it. Steeling your nerves, you put one foot in front of the other. As if on cue, two figures hurry out of the store, glancing behind them before they notice you. The automatic doors have long since stopped running, so they just pause in the doorway while you freeze on the curb, the fumes from the van tickling your nose.
They’re both boys holding bags you assume to be filled with groceries: both around your age, one of them has gray and black spiked hair, and eyes as wide and aware as an owl’s. The one next to him has dark, short, almost curly hair, and his gaze is calculating and cold.
You take a small step back, unsure of what to say. They seem just as apprehensive, when the van door slides open forcefully.
“Hey, what are you doing? Get in!” Another boy, this one of a larger build than the two in front of you with jet black spiked hair, snaps angrily.
“Kuroo, we have a situation.” The curly-haired boy says evenly, though he’s tense. His knuckles are white holding his bags.
“Huh?” The one who must be Kuroo says, and cranes his neck to the side to spot you. “Oh, shit.”
“U-um…” You stutter out, and you suddenly feel extremely cornered-- it’s three against one, and what if they want to take your car? What if they have some kind of weird cult and need a girl for breeding? “I’m just gonna get some-- some poptarts and leave.”
“Holy shit!!” The gray haired one seems to have broken out of his stupor, and he rushes over to you, dropping his bags and their contents on the ground in order to grab your shoulders. “Another person! A-a girl!”
“Yes, she’s a girl…” The curly-haired one sighs, puts his bags in the van and begins to gather up the other one’s forgotten groceries.
“First one I’ve seen in a while.” Kuroo grins and hops from the car to stand beside the gray-haired one who still hasn’t let go of you. You don’t have the balls to tell him to get off-- you’re not sure how dangerous these boys are. “How long have you been hiding out?”
“Come with us! We’re at the high school.” The gray-haired one beams-- how could he possibly be smiling?
You don’t know what to say, so you look away. Your voice seems to be caught in your throat, and that’s extremely frustrating-- but you’re not about to cry in front of these guys.
“Quit it, Bokuto.” The curly-haired one is eyeing you carefully, though not as if you’re a threat. He seems to be the only one that can actually sense your discomfort. The one that’s holding you-- Bokuto-- sighs, and lets you go, instead putting his hands on his hips.
“We should at least help her.” He points out, and grins down at you. “What’s your name, anyway?”
“She’s not gonna tell you. Let’s just go home.” Kuroo shrugs, and you cross your arms.
You tell them your name, if only to spite the taller one. He turns with a grin, and it only just occurs to you that perhaps, that was reverse-psychology. You huff, and look away with a little bit of a blush.
“Like I said, I just need to get poptarts and some other things and then I’m going back home.” You mutter.
“We’re wasting gas.” The curly-haired one calls, as he has already sat in the front seat.
“Hold on, Akaashi!” Bokuto calls. “Listen, there aren’t anymore poptarts in there. None whatsoever.”
Your heart breaks a little, but you keep it together.
“There’s, like, rice and stuff, but I think that’s it.” He shrugs, and turns to get into the van. You bite your lip-- might as well ask rather than waste your time wandering around all alone.
“Is there any dog food left?”
“Huh? Dog food?” Bokuto is right back in front of you. He and Kuroo speak at the same time:
“You’re gonna eat dog food?” Bokuto says.
“You have a dog?” Kuroo says, and the two boys glare at each other.
“Yeah…” You say, though you still haven’t gotten an answer to your question. “I mean, I have a dog.”
“Yeah, it’s in aisle five.” You hear the one called Akaashi tell you, without even bothering to turn to look at you.
“I know that.” You snap-- your dad used to work in this store, you know it pretty damn well. Akaashi glances back at you then, probably a little surprised by your defensive tone. You huff, annoyed at yourself for being so touchy. These were the first people you met after about three straight weeks in quarantine, and they might be the only people left for miles. You need to play nice.
“My dad works here.” You explain, looking down at your shoes. Kuroo nods, exchanges a glance with Bokuto. “Well, he used to.”
A silence falls over the group-- they know. You all know, now, what it’s like to lose a parent, or any loved one, for that matter. You blink quickly to fight back any tears that might threaten to escape.
“We’re staying at Karasuno High-- it’s the high school near Flat Top.” Kuroo says. “If you want to join us, we’re kind of setting up camp there.”
“There’s more of us!” Bokuto explains. “We’re gonna find some mattresses after this to bring ‘em back so we can all stick together.”
“Oh, cool.” You say half-heartedly, unsure of why exactly they’re inviting you over as if it’s some kind of fun sleepover. “Wait, you guys went to Karasuno?”
“Yeah! You, too?” Bokuto lights up, and you look at the three boys a little closer, though you don’t seem to recognize them.
“Yeah… but I don’t think we were in the same circles.” You finally smile a little, albeit sadly, now that you’re remembering all the things you’ll never be able to return to now that school and society are essentially gone.
“You ever go to any volleyball games?” Kuroo asks, obviously encouraged by your smile. You shake your head.
Akaashi has exited the van by now with a sigh, coming to stand beside his two friends as he takes a look around. “We need to get going. If you want to join us, you know where to find us. But it’s gonna be dark soon.”
That seems to smack some sense into the other two, and they exchange glances with one another. Kuroo nods, Bokuto sighs, and the two get back into the van. Akaashi pauses, and you accidentally lock eyes with him.
His gaze betrays nothing, and you wonder for a moment how he ever became friends with these two. He reaches into the van, and pulls out a familiar blue cardboard box, gives it to you.
You take the poptarts, and glance up at him questioningly-- he puts a finger to his lips with just the hint of a smile. You smile back.
“Listen, it’s great you have a dog-- keep him close. And get home before it gets dark. And…” He glances to the side uneasily. “Get a baseball bat or something.”
A chill goes up your spine at that last part, and you frown, but nod to the boy in front of you anyways. He returns the nod, and gets in the back of the van. You both share a glance at each other one more time, and it feels as if he wants to say something more, but he doesn’t. He just slides the door closed, and Bokuto waves to you out the window.
“Byee! Hopefully we’ll see you later-- hey, where’d you get those poptarts?!” Bokuto’s voice fades away as the van drives off, and you are once again left alone.
[-]
You gather a fair amount of stuff-- rope, for some reason is included in your loot. You always saw people in the movies get rope, so you figure you’ll find some use for it.
There aren’t any baseball bats, but you do find a hammer and a paring knife. It’s small, but better than nothing. You load up on the dog food, and even manage to haul two huge bags of kibble into your car. As you load it up, you can’t shake the feeling of someone watching you. Even though you look around and make certain that you’re the only person present, the feeling doesn’t go away. You sort of wish you’d gone with those boys now.
You aren’t surprised when the street lights don’t turn on, but you take that as your signal to leave. Even though you want to scrounge for more supplies, you don’t want to risk it. Akaashi’s words of warning hang over your head like a humid fog.
As you drive home, you can’t stop chewing on your lip. Even with your headlights on, it’s hard to see, but you don’t want to turn on your brights and draw more attention to yourself. Just get home, lock the doors, and check in with Callie.
You park the car in your backyard because the garage door won’t open-- the power’s finally gone out. You close the backyard gate and lock it as soon as you’re out of the car, but somehow you still feel uneasy.
As you enter your dark home, you softly call out Indie’s name, and you hear her scamper up to you.
“Good girl,” You whisper, and scratch her ear. You decide to leave the larger groceries in the car for now, as you don’t want to go back outside and keep making trips of transferring the supplies into your house. For now, you need to sleep so that you can ignore the hunger in your belly and stretch out your rations just a little further.
Indie guides you up the stairs and into your bedroom as you set your bag down heavily. You come across your phone with dismay, finding that it hasn’t charged at all since you left, and is now at 7%. You bite your lip, and open up the almost abandoned group chat.
9:57pm
Me: callie im gonna come to ohio soon. I think we are gonna lose connection tho. Idk if this will even send, but ill see u in ohio. I love you.
The message doesn’t send. You shudder out a sigh, and you’re grateful when Indie nuzzles into your side.
Your phone finally shuts off, though it’s useless now, anyway. You crawl into your bed and Indie curls up next to you, and you fall into an uneasy sleep.
[-]
“Shh!”
You jolt awake at the hissing sound that’s coming from downstairs. Indie is tense and alert, and she licks your elbow. You sit up, and vaguely note the time: 3:37am.
There’s some shuffling, and you see the beam of what you assume to be a flashlight shakily illuminate the walls downstairs. You didn’t close your bedroom door when you came in, because you assumed that you were alone.
‘Stupid…’ You think to yourself as you grip Indie’s collar. She begins to growl, but you shush her quickly, though she flattens her ears back at you. Letting out a shaky breath, you crawl off of your bed as silently as you can manage, and reach for the hammer and paring knife in your bag.
Indie follows you as you venture into the hallway, and you perch behind the bars of your stairs as the hushed conversation down below becomes clearer.
“Just find whatever food you can and let’s go.” A deep male voice cuts through the silence.
“We need to check the car! There’s nothing here.” A stranger male voice answers, and giggles. “We should find the girl instead.”
You tense, and grip the hammer a little tighter.
“I don’t care about her. I just want her stuff.” The deep voice asserts, and you wonder what you should do next. Storm downstairs and hammer them to death? You’ve never fought anybody before, let alone killed someone. Your hands are becoming clammy, and you don’t notice the pregnant pause in the conversation downstairs.
It isn’t until you see a head of brown hair come into view that you’re snapped from your thoughts. Indie can’t help herself-- she barks, and bolts down the stairs before you can stop her. The two boys yell in surprise, and you watch as she tackles the tall one with brown hair. Meanwhile, the other one comes into view-- he has large, droopy eyes with spiked red hair, and he looks excited when he catches sight of you.
“There she is!” He coos, and begins to walk upstairs. You gasp, and you know in this split second that your home is no longer yours-- you need to get away. In one fluid motion, you run into your room to grab your single bag of groceries. It’s heavy, but you don’t notice as adrenaline rushes through your veins.
When you turn to run down the stairs, the red-head catches you by both of your upper arms. He licks his chapped lips, and your knee jerks out to hit his groin. He yelps and doubles over, and you fly down the stairs.
“Indie!” You whistle, and she actually bounds from the living room over the couch, to skid by your side. You swipe the car keys off the counter, rip the sliding glass door open, and use the fob to unlock the car. You open the passenger for Indie, she leaps in as you toss the bag and your hammer and knife in behind her, you slam the door closed, and hop over the hood of the car.
As you turn to open the driver’s side door, you watch as the red-head runs in slow motion from your stairs to the exit to your backyard. You don’t breathe or shake as you turn the ignition, throw the car in reverse, then drive, and plow through your flimsy backyard gate as you push your little soccer van to its limits.
Tires skid as you swerve onto the street, and you press down so hard on the gas, that a few minutes later, you don’t register that you’re going 90 miles an hour in the suburbs. Houses pass you at incredible speed, and you ease up on the pedal when Indie licks your cheek. You stare straight ahead, and subconsciously, you drive towards your high school. Those three boys were nice to you-- they warned you, and you didn’t listen. They even tried to help you and include you, and you flat out denied them.
You slam on the brakes as you turn into Karasuno High’s parking lot. It’s only now that you realize that you didn’t fasten your seat belt, and you shut off the car with a shaky breath. The front of the school looms over you, and you wonder for a moment if they’re even here-- was it all a joke? What if they turn you away because you were such a bitch earlier? No matter how many scenarios you run through your head, you come to the same conclusion every time: you can’t go back home, and you’re already here, so you may as well investigate. You grab your hammer and get out of the car, and Indie follows behind. You close and lock the doors, pocketing the keys, and turn towards the school you’ve known for three and a half years.
The front gates are locked, of course. You wander the perimeter of the school, Indie trotting beside you the whole way. The school looks different in the dark-- it feels different, too. It’s like you’re walking in a dream, or some sort of in-between space. You shouldn’t be awake, and you definitely shouldn’t be here, but you are. It’s strange. Everything is bathed in moonlight, so it’s all a very specific shade of blue that makes you feel like you’re underwater.
You come upon the gym in the back of the school, and you’re startled to hear voices coming from inside. You tip-toe up to the doors, and Indie sniffs curiously.
“If your leg gets cut off, would it hurt?”
“Please just go to sleep.”
“Duh!” A third voice chimes in, and the second voice groans.
“How, though?” The first voice presses.
“‘Cause your leg got cut off, dumbass.” Third voice answers.
“Where’re you gonna feel the pain?”
“In your leg…” The third voice trails off.
“Exactly, man. How’re you gonna feel the pain in your leg if--”
“--if your leg is gone?!” The first and third voice finish together, and you hear the second person groan.
“I’m going outside.” He says, and as his voice gets louder, you stumble away from the door just as it opens.
You blink rapidly and your jaw drops-- Akaashi stands in front of you, brows furrowed and eyes wide. You can’t believe they’re actually here.
“Akaashi?” Someone calls from inside. Akaashi opens his mouth to respond, but glances at Indie when she sniffs his hand curiously. He pets her absent-mindedly as his gaze wanders back to yours.
Bokuto and Kuroo pop up behind him a second later, and they’re just as surprised as Akaashi. Indie sniffs them in turn, and her tail begins to wag.
You drop your hammer with a thud, and sniffle like a toddler before letting out a sob you didn’t know you’d been holding.
“C-can I stay with you?”
#haikyuu fanfiction#hq fanfiction#haikyu fanfiction#akaashi x reader#kuroo x reader#iwaizumi x reader#oikawa x reader#bokuto x reader#reader insert#haikyuu x reader#slow burn
19 notes
·
View notes
Text
MTH 2020 Pod Bid List
So what are pod bids? A pod bid is a group of people who want to combine efforts and bid as a collective for a specific auction! If you aren’t sure you can compete with other bidders on your own for an auction you’re interested in, they’re a great way to get involved without breaking the bank. Even chipping in $1 or $5 can make a difference; you never know if your $1 is the one to win the auction for the group! The more money, the better your chances—and the more money you raise for charity.
The only requirements for making a pod bid are the following:
Contact the creator first to see if they’re okay with your prompt idea before seeing if anyone is open to joining your pod bid.
One representative per group must be responsible for coordinating the bid and submitting all the donation receipts by our donation deadline: October 31 at 11:59 PM ET (what time is that for me?).
Here are the existing pod bids so far, in alphabetical order by creator. If you want to add your pod bid to the list, send us a DM or an ask on Tumblr, add it in the #pod-bids-chat channel on our Discord server (a great way to find more bidders to join your group), or email us at [email protected].
_
Creator: artgroves
Auction: Art
Pod bid: Alby is willing to do Steve/Tony (they love 616 and Noir the most, but they're down for MCU too) and I have been yearning after their auction since 2018. I'm thinking of sending them a list of prompts to choose from, so if you have an idea that you'd love to have Alby potentially make, join my pod bid!
Organizer: nostalgicatsea
Organizer contact info: nostalgicatsea#5251 on Discord or nostalgicatsea on Tumblr/Twitter
_
Creator: AuroraWest (and Nonexistenz)
Auction: Art & fic
Pod bid: FrostStrange something or other fun
Organizer: Nova
Organizer contact info: DM SpaceCrazyArtist#8523on Discord or NovaOfAvalonia on Twitter/Tumblr
_
Creator: betheflame
Auction: Fic
Pod bid: Celestial Navigation - The Vampire Remix! (Feat. Stevie as Vampire & TBD-Tony - But, Flame. Will be amazing!)
Organizer: JehBeeEh
Organizer contact info: Preferably on Discord (JehBeeEh#6047)
_
Creator: betheflame
Auction: Fic
Pod bid: Stuckony Check, Please AU
Organizer: RoseRose
Organizer contact info: Discord is best (TehRoseRose#0409)
_
Creator: BladeoftheNebula
Auction: Fic
Pod bid: Atlantis AU based on the pretty drawing from b. with Smol Steve with big round glasses
Organizer: Mairi
Organizer contact info: Mairi✨#9804 on Discord or KappaMairi on Twitter
_
Creator: deathsweetqueen
Auction: Fic
Pod bid: Defending Jacob AU (with racebent Tony)
Organizer: betheflame
Organizer contact info: betheflame#2044 on Discord
_
Creator: dracusfyre
Auction: Fic
Pod bid: A Cyrano de Bergerac AU. If you’re unfamiliar with the premise, it’s a story where character A asks character B to write love letters to character C, posing as A, which causes some angst as B also loves/is interested in C
Organizer: nostalgicatsea
Organizer contact info: nostalgicatsea#5251 on Discord or nostalgicatsea on Tumblr/Twitter
_
Creator: Emerson
Auction: Fic
Pod bid: Pride and Prejudice WinterIron Edition anyone?
Organizer: betheflame
Organizer contact info: letsallsleepoverwork#1930 on Discord
_
Creator: Eriot
Auction: Rotoscope (moving art)
Pod bid: Steve/Tony fluff
Organizer: ishipallthings
Organizer contact info: Discord DM (ishipallthings#9888) or Twitter (@ ishipallthings)
_
Creator: Eriot
Auction: Rotoscope (moving art)
Pod bid: WinterIron (ships war time!)
Organizer: Kimmycup
Organizer contact info: DM on Discord (kimmycup#8137) or Tumblr (kimmycup)
_
Creator: FestiveFerret
Auction: Fic
Pod bid: Ferret goes WI for MTH? I guess we'll see
Organizer: letsallsleepoverwork
Organizer contact info: Discord - DM letsallsleepoverwork#1930 or @ me in the MTH server
_
Creator: FestiveFerret
Auction: Fic
Pod bid: Stony Band AU based on this tumblr post: https://festiveferret.tumblr.com/post/185482555125/band-au-idea
Organizer: sabrecmc
Organizer contact info: Message on Discord (sabrecmc#2925) or Tumblr (sabrecmc)
_
Creator: Firelightmystic, magicasen, or Mizzy
Auction: Fic
Pod bid: one of these prompts, all stevetony:
616: Tony finally confesses his love to steve. Too bad steve is a skrull.
616: steve finally confesses his love to iron man. Too bad he told the sentient armour.
multiverse 616/1872: commander steve rogers ends up in the small town of Timely, where a certain Tony Stark is mourning sheriff Rogers
multiverse: during the incursions, tony decides to visit different universes and talk to different versions of himself to try to find a solution. featuring brain in a jar Tony and commander rogers. (ults? noir? more universes?)
616: tony and steve die together on the courthouse steps. they also become unstuck in time together.
Organizer: oluka (lomku)
Organizer contact info: oluka#1392 on Discord
_
Creator: Firelightmystic
Auction: Fic
Pod bid: Dragon!Tony and Virgin Sacrifice Steve. Basically 70K of monster-fucking porn, but she swears there's like a plot or something, too.
Organizer: sabrecmc
Organizer contact info: Discord (sabrecmc#2925) or Tumblr (sabrecmc)
_
Creator: GotTheSilver
Auction: Fic
Pod bid: Steve/Tony AU where Steve is defrosted earlier + arranged marriage
Organizer: ishipallthings
Organizer contact info: Discord DM (ishipallthings#9888) or Twitter (@ ishipallthings)
_
Creator: jellybeanforest
Auction: Fic
Pod bid: Overcome, a Stony A/B/O Identity Porn fic (if anyone would like the summary, please feel free to DM me)
Organizer: Simi
Organizer contact info: Discord DMs are the best way to get a hold of me (Simi#6049)
_
Creator: JenTheSweetie
Auction: Fic
Pod bid: In Jen's words: "cute bonding fluff with Tony alive post-Endgame, background Steve/Tony and probably early days of their relationship so Steve is just getting to know Morgan so he's awkward stepdad Steve but trying really hard."
Organizer: magicasen
Organizer contact info: Discord DM (magicasen#6819) or Twitter DM (magicasen)
_
Creator: KandiSheek
Auction: Art
Pod bid: full-color comic strip of the stony doing kissy kissy - to quote ferret
Organizer: betheflame
Organizer contact info: betheflame#2044 on Discord
_
Creator: Lauren/Ragingstillness
Auction: Fic
Pod bid: FrostIronStrange. Tony and Loki are already established, Stephen is aspec, they are in a poly relationship but Stephen lives at the sanctum and feels left out and insecure in their relationship. Happy ending.
Organizer: kimmycup
Organizer contact info: DM on Discord (kimmycup#8137) or Tumblr (kimmycup)
_
Creator: magicasen
Auction: Fic
Pod bid: post Endgame steve/tony in the afterlife AU, getting together, addressing their issues and relationship in canon
Organizer: ishipallthings
Organizer contact info: DM me on Discord (ishipallthings#9888) or Twitter (@ ishipallthings)
_
Creator: Mizzy
Auction: Fic
Pod bid: There's a serial killer on the loose, and Detectives/FBI agents (?) Steve Rogers and Tony Stark find themselves on the same case, chasing the same elusive individual. They're like oil and water, their methods and temperaments making for horrible first impressions and a tense work relationship. That is, until the killer sets his eyes on Tony. When the killer's terrifying letters transform from taunts to a deep, intimate obsession, Steve knows that time is running out to stop the psychopath from hurting the man he's fallen in love with and other innocent people. Brownie points if Tony is isolated and in serious danger at some point. More points if Mizzy goes into depth with the investigative part of the plot (think Zodiac). Long nights, coffee as sustenance, the works. Most likely will be set in the 1970s!
Organizer: nostalgicatsea
Organizer contact info: nostalgicatsea#5251 on Discord or nostalgicatsea on Tumblr/Twitter
_
Creator: newtypeshadow
Auction: Fic
Pod bid: Omega!Warlord!Tony - either as WI or Stuckony
Organizer: SaganaRojanaOlt
Organizer contact info: Sagana Rojana Olt#0856 on Discord
_
Creator: queenerdloser
Auction: Fic
Pod bid: Creator is willing to do Tony Stark/Phil Coulson. Right now we are open to any prompts. We could also collect prompts and send them a list.
Organizer: Ruquas
Organizer contact info: Ruquas#8838 on Discord
_
Creator: RiotFalling
Auction: Fic
Pod bid: Regency Au, WinterIron, Knight!James and young King!Tony
Organizer: SaganaRojanaOlt
Organizer contact info: Contact me on Discord (Sagana Rojana Olt#0856 ), by email ([email protected]), or on Tumblr (saganarojanaolt)
_
Creator: Ruquas
Auction: Fic
Pod bid: Sugar daddy Tony surprised by how doting his sugar babies Steve and Bucky are
Organizer: RoseRose
Organizer contact info: TehRoseRose#0409 on Discord
_
Creator: scaramouche
Auction: Fic
Pod bid: Sequel to "A Furious Vexation" and "Splenditudinous Figment of Wonder"
Organizer: jellybeanforest
Organizer contact info: Discord DMs (jellybeanforest#5427)
_
Creator: Serinah
Auction: Fic
Pod bid: Hunger Games AU, Stony
Organizer: Buckyaboveeverything
Organizer contact info: buckyaboveeverything#4387 on Discord
_
Creator: Serinah
Auction: Fic
Pod bid:Clint/Tony/Natasha fic where Clintasha gets married and invites rich people they dont know in hopes of getting gifts and them not coming. Tony comes and things soon turn complicated.
Organizer: kimmycup
Organizer contact info: DM on Discord (kimmycup#8137) or Tumblr (kimmycup)
_
Creator: The Casual Cheesecake
Auction: Art
Pod bid: Comic of one of Sineala's 616 fics
Organizer: sabrecmc
Organizer contact info: Message on Discord (sabrecmc#2925) or Tumblr (sabrecmc)
_
Creator: weethreequarter
Auction: Fic
Pod bid: WinterIron modern Royalty AU
Organizer: betheflame
Organizer contact info: betheflame#2044 on Discord - we have a group chat going with more details
6 notes
·
View notes
Link
Fandom: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Relationships: Midoriya Izuku/Todoroki Shouto
Additional Tags: Good Omens AU, Alternate Universe - Immortals, Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Reincarnation, Slow Burn, Fluff, there is so much fluff in this guys i messed up, you know the first 30 minutes of the third good omens episode?, this is that fic, forgive any historical inaccuracies, tododekubigbang2020, TTBB20
Summary:
The eyes, he can see, belong to a face. The person is gorgeous, sharp cheekbones and a smooth jaw. Half his hair is a pure white, the other a ruby red, so similar to the vividness of blood that it sticks out against this green planet and startles Izuku, ever so slightly. His hair drops down to his waist, slightly covering the large scarring over one eye.
It doesn’t quite look like a burn, Izuku wonders, as his feet move before he can tell them to and he’s already making his way over in a daze. More like, the cost of a tragedy.
A sacrifice.
-
A Good Omens au, featuring Izuku and Shouto living in domestic bliss for a very long time, amidst the ever-changing earth. Oh yeah, and they're Gods, but really? Who cares. They have each other, and that matters a whole lot more.
--------------
It’s finally time to post the fic I wrote for the TodoDeku Big Bang 2020! I took the chance to write a self-indulgent Good Omens/Immortals au, where the boys get to basically have fun being in love with no real worries. I had some trouble with the pacing at some points, but I’m really happy with the outcome.
Now, as this is a Big Bang (specifically, the @tododekubigbang, seriously go check out some of the other stuff being posted), I was assigned an artist to draw/make something based on my fic. After some confusion, I ended up with @nikkdoodles as my partner, and the art she drew is just wonderful. Here’s a link: https://mobile.twitter.com/NikkDoodles/status/1271578660940787714. I love it so much. Go follow her on twitter https://mobile.twitter.com/NikkDoodles, and give it love.
I hope you enjoy the fic.
#type: the power of words#boku no hero academia#my fic#bnha#my hero academia#tododeku#midoriya izuku#todoroki shouto#midoriya izuku / todoroki shouto#a divinity that shapes our ends#guys i dont actually know how to tag
15 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
bambinidisatana
Bambini di Satana
gx9dan
구구단 zone.
sannin-three
Naruto sideblog
jessies-suitehearts
This is just a part I portray
ludweird
your confusion is my illusion