#maybe once I have the foundations down I can actually schedule things to do them more routinely

[phynoma]

As a countdown to Halloween, I'm sharing the original statements I wrote for the Consuming AU! (<<click for ao3 link) The statements function as horror shorts that work on their own

Statement 3: Teeth

CW: body horror, teeth, gore, illness, description of food/eating, hunger, blood, vomiting

[Tape clicks on. Quiet of the statement room]

ARCHIVIST

Statement of Naadia Hamza, regarding a diner in her neighbourhood. Original statement taken 15th of March, 2011. Audio recording by Jonathan Sims, the Archivist.

Statement begins.

...

I've always been a bit of a night owl.

Ever since I was a teenager and I would sneak out at one or two in the morning and just…wander the streets. Got in trouble for it a couple of times, too. I didn't ever do anything, I wasn't a hooligan. I just liked to be outside at night. The streets are quiet then in a way they never really get during the day. Not silent, not completely. But when you're by yourself, and there isn't the constant noise of lights and cars and dogs and people, you can notice the quieter sounds.

Even in college, when I was old enough that most of my friends were spending their nights partying or studying or actually sleeping, I kept finding new places to walk. I got stopped by police a couple of times– something about a hijabi woman walking around at night freaked them out a bit, I think. Never got accused of soliciting, though, so that's something. But it did get me to start thinking about some proper excuses about why I was up and about at three am, and so that's when I started going to diners.

I know I just said I like night-walking for the peace of it, but that's not completely true. I like people. I do. I think people are interesting. I just…can't handle them all at once? Not when the lights are on.

But at night, in small spaces…it's sort of the best of all worlds. There's something calming about the lights in a diner when it's between one and five in the morning, and the commuters aren't in yet. Like a little buzzing island of neon and fluorescent safety amongst the dark. It makes it feel like…a waypoint in the night. You step inside, and it's like stepping into a little oasis of human nostalgia– not quite real, not the way it is in the daytime, and at the same time so much more real. Like it's the only thing that exists, a bubble against the emptiness of the dark and cold: and there you are, hiding away from the dark with a few other intrepid night wanderers like you.

I had one diner that was my favourite. I had a sort of cycle that I'd go through– Phillips on Mondays and Wednesdays, Highland on Tuesdays and Thursdays– the days of my night classes, when I was there anyway– home on Friday nights for jumu'ah, and the weekends for events and meeting up with friends. When I didn't have a path to follow, I'd make my way down to Pam's Diner.

I don't know if Pam's Diner was ever owned by anyone named Pam. Probably not. I mostly just knew the night waitresses: Maude, who could have been a prematurely aged twenty-five or a well-aged fifty, and Mabel, an older woman who wore too much liquid foundation and lip liner that never seemed to keep her bright red lipstick from trickling up the wrinkles around her mouth.

We got to know each other, in a way. Nothing personal. Nothing like friendship. But we were familiar, anyway. I was a recognizable face in that bit of transient night. Mabel went out of her way to let the others know what I could eat and what I couldn’t, in that way that happens in the midwest–where it could be real kindness, or it could be passive aggression, and the only way to know for sure is to wait until the micro-aggression becomes too obvious to be anything else.

Maybe you’re wondering why I would keep going to a place where I might have been unwelcome. The truth was, most places felt like that. And the food was good. I mean, they didn’t use bacon grease for their hash browns, and their pies were delicious.

I’d started a new schedule for j-term–that’s January term–and so I only had one class: an intensive that lasted from three in the afternoon until nine at night, with a dinner break. Lecture, then labs, then discussion. It was way too long for a class, to be honest, and by the end of it I just had to get out and walk. January in Minnesota is brutal, you know, but it didn’t matter. I kept to my smaller route, which meant I ended up more and more at Pam’s Diner.

Looking back, I don’t know when it was that things started to change. There was never any indication of new ownership, or anything like that. But despite coming in more often, I stopped seeing some of the usuals around. I thought maybe it was just my timing, or the cold keeping people in their own homes. I felt a little sad, to be honest–like I was making a stop at DS9 and the usual crew wasn't there. I tried to ask Mabel about it, but it’s not like I knew anyone’s names, and describing one hairy, old trucker in his cups describes a lot of them.

Another thing I noticed was that the waitresses were smiling a lot less. Again, that could have just been the cold, or the familiarity. Maybe they didn’t make as much of an effort when they saw me all the time? But they were always pleasant to me, asking how I was and how my family was, asking what I’d learned in class that day. Maude kept her lips close together, even when she spoke. Every once in a while, I’d see her standing in the little waystation between the kitchen and the tables, holding a hand to her cheek like she was fighting off a toothache in the back of her jaw. Mabel’s lipstick seemed brighter than before, and the red that bloomed around her mouth looked almost like broken veins.

I still didn’t think much of it until January 16th. I know the date because I’d spent extra time in the lab that day, trying to fix a group project, and I’d marked the date and time a half dozen times in my lab notebook before finally setting out into the night. My labmates, Dex and Karen, invited me out for drinks, which I declined. Besides the fact that I don’t drink, I needed alone time. I needed to walk.

I was going to skip the Diner, considering how late it was, but something about that homey, yellow glow pulled me right back in. I thought maybe I’d get a coffee and a piece of pie, nothing more. Something to excuse my sitting there in the booth. There was only one other patron, a crusty old geezer with wispy grey hair and a thick, peeling, leather jacket that had seen too many winters. He was bent over the chrome bar in the usual position of late night patrons, seeming to hug his plate of biscuits and gravy. There was gravy in his moustache and an off-white, ceramic cup of coffee in easy reach.

I sipped at my own cup and made tracks through the whip cream on top of my apple pie with my fork like it was a miniature zen garden, going over the experiments we’d run that day and the places we’d gone wrong. Biochem was a killer of pre-med students, and I wanted a good grade, to hell or high water with my labmates. I was still thinking about it when a couple walked in–high, from their self-conscious giggling and overloud voices–and Mabel swept off to take care of them.

I wasn’t really paying attention to the old man at the bar or his conversation, but when he raised his voice it was hard not to notice. Mabel was dealing with the newcomers, so Maude was the one who came out to see what the ruckus was. He kept asking her questions, “what does she think she’s playing at?” and “a long-time patron deserves better,” and “doesn’t want to make a fuss that would cost her her job, but this was unacceptable.” I felt a bit defensive–whatever it was that had pissed the man off, I resented him taking it out on Maude. It wasn’t as if she made the food.

She spoke quietly, her cheeks drawn, her lips over her teeth. I couldn’t hear what she was saying, but the man wasn’t having any of it.

“I don’t want a fucking refund!” he said, loudly enough to distract even the high couple from their menus. He held up something–tiny, glinting yellowish-white–and looked around the diner as if triumphantly presenting evidence to a jury. “Y’all watch your food! I’ve found a tooth in mine! An honest-to-god, human tooth! What’s next? Rat bones? A live cockroach? You makin’ this gravy from human meat?”

It was so ridiculous that I just gaped at him in amazement. Now, from the looks of this guy, he didn’t have a whole lot of teeth to begin with. I wouldn’t be surprised if he cracked the rotten thing right from his own mouth. Maude covered her mouth with both hands, looking stricken, and then rushed to the back. She looked about to cry, or be sick, and I didn’t blame her. Who says something like that?

Mabel clicked her tongue and apologised to the man, comped his meal. He calmed down eventually and left. The stoner couple spent the rest of their stay snickering to themselves about it. It’s not uncommon to see strange things in the late night diners. It’s part of the bargain of having a place to go–you share it with whoever else might be out there.

I asked Mabel about Maude when she came by to check on me, and she assured me that Maude was shaken but fine. “Thanks for askin’, sweetie,” she said, and patted my hand. “You’re a good one. Pie’s on me, tonight.”

I finished my pie and my coffee and went to use the bathroom before I left. I caught sight of Maude through the swinging silver doors to the back, with their porthole windows. She was crying, her mascara running down her cheeks. I only saw her for a moment, but her mouth was open as she wept, and I could have sworn all her teeth were rotted black.

I shouldn’t have gone back after that night. I didn’t, for a while. Didn’t go on night walks at all, and then when I did, I went to other diners. But something about Pam’s always drew me back. I think I told myself it was curiosity, and concern for the waitresses that I considered friends, in a strange way. Companions of the dark. Maybe it was just that their food was that good. I started craving it–mashed potatoes and gravy, cobb salads, cornbread, pie. Things I could get anywhere, but nothing was quite as good. For whatever reason, I made my way back to Pam’s Diner two more times.

The second to last visit, Maude was already gone. I ordered, and when Mabel had a spare minute between serving the truckers that had stopped in, I asked her about Maude. Mabel looked tired, more tired than she had before. Her foundation was caked on like paste, and she’d completely given up on lipline,r if she’d ever used it at all. The red ran up the wrinkles around her mouth like a spiderweb.

“Maude was let go, unfortunately,” she told me. “A couple of weeks back, now.”

“Not because of that man–that customer who yelled at her, right?” I asked, indignant.

Mabel assured me it was not because of that incident, although from her tone I got the idea that it might have been a factor– or a symptom of something worse going on in her life, it was hard to tell. I thought about her face through the warped plastic porthole, the dark wreckage of her mouth, and I shuddered to myself.

I’d thought I’d just stick with coffee, but instead I found myself ordering a whole meal, with dessert. Things were a little slower without Maude there, but I didn’t go to the diner for quick service. I sat and watched the other customers, wondering if there’d be another dramatic showdown that night. As the minutes crept on, I started to get properly hungry–that stomach-churning stage where you start to feel sick and light-headed. I hadn’t seen Mabel come out of the kitchen for a while.

I got up and used the bathroom for something to do, and for the excuse to pass by the kitchen doors and take a peek. I didn’t see anyone on the way in, but on the way back glanced around to make sure no one was watching me–they weren’t–and then I poked my head inside. It took me a moment to realise what I was seeing.

The kitchen was active, as I’d have expected–burners on, oven blazing, deep-fry running, dishwashing machine clattering. But only half the lights were on, and there was no one there. No one, that was, but Mabel–her scarlet lips pursed in concentration as she dashed back and forth between plates of food, preparing it all herself. For a wild moment, I thought about offering to help her. Then I thought better of it, and, a little uneasy for a reason I couldn’t explain, so I simply went back to my seat and waited for the meal Mabel had prepared.

I thought, after the weirdness of the kitchen scene and the way Mabel’s focused, frantic movements had unsettled me, that I would have lost my appetite. Instead, I ate every bite.

The last time I went to Pam’s Diner, I’d been dreaming of apple pie for a week straight. I wasn’t able to do my night walks due to midterms. Then, the stress of pulling all-nighters and studying day in and day out caught up to me, and I was in bed with stomach flu for a week. I have a few friends who always get sick around midterms, but I never had. I figured it was finally time for it to happen to me, nothing more. I could barely keep down any food at all, and my stomach felt like it was full of dull knives, sharpening themselves against each other. I dreamt about food.

So when I finally recovered enough to eat, I decided to reward myself with Pam’s. I figured I’d take it easy, since I was still recovering–but I could barely wait to sink my teeth into solid food again.

When I arrived at Pam’s it was around midnight– a little early for me, but that’s how eager I was. Mabel was the only one working. She was thinner than I’d ever seen her, but she smiled at me with her lipstick-stained mouth and set me up in my usual booth. There was no one else in the diner but me.

I ordered coffee and pie, my usual “light” fare. I didn’t know how well pie would sit with me, but the thought of that luscious, cinnamon-and-vanilla delight was too much to avoid. My stomach churned and growled, embarrassingly loud. I couldn’t remember ever being so hungry before in my life.

When Mabel brought out the pie, I barely restrained myself before digging in. As soon as she turned her back, I shovelled in a mouthful of that piping hot pie so quickly that I burned the roof of my mouth. But it was worth it. It was perfect, everything I’d been dreaming of in my feverish week of illness. It was safety in the night. It was familiar faces in a crowd of strangers. It was the warm, yellow glow of a liminal waypoint in the endless void of dark.

I was halfway through the pie when I bit down on something hard. It jarred me badly, the ache going all through my jaw and neck. I managed to swallow most of my bite and spit out the hardness. I tried to tell myself that it was just a bit of burnt ingredients, something normal, even when I already knew what I’d see.

It was a tooth. Small, maybe an incisor. Human. The roots were missing, but it was still undeniably a person’s tooth.

I felt sick. I stared at the thing, trying to tell myself that I was imagining things, that I had somehow created this awful scenario in my own mind. I stared at the thing in the palm of my hand, unmoving, not wanting to disturb the reality of the place. I didn’t even hear Mabel’s short heels clacking up to my table until she was right beside me.

“Oh, dear,” she said. “Oh, dear.”

Like it was an unfortunate accident. Like it was a bit of burnt toast, and not a human tooth in the middle of my apple pie. Were there more? Should I excavate them out? I shuddered.

“So sorry about that,” Mabel said, and her voice seemed strange and muddled. For some reason, I didn’t want to look up at her face. “I’ll get that taken care of for you. Do you want a new piece?”

“No, that’s alright,” I said. I should have been screaming, probably, but that would have been rude. “I’m good.”

“I’ll take that, for you,” Mabel said, and plucked the tooth from my hand. I realised what it was about her voice that was so strange; it sounded wet, somehow. I shook with the effort not to look up at her, to see the mess I knew would be her mouth. “Sorry again, dearie. I’ll be right back with a top-up for that coffee.”

As soon as she walked away, I grabbed my coffee to wash the memory of the pie from my mouth. I was so frantic I knocked the ceramic against my teeth and cut my lip, combining the astringency of the dark brew with the metallic tang of my own blood. It was only after that it hit me that the teeth could be in anything. I poured the rest of the cup over my plate, but there was nothing but a small ribbon of blood.

The dull grinding in my gut that had plagued me for the last week woke again with a vengeance. I curled over myself and wondered if I was dying, if I would die there in a booth in Pam’s Diner, in the middle of the night. I wondered if anyone would ever find me, or if I would disappear with the morning like a ghost. It felt like anything could be possible.

I forced myself to sit up and call a rideshare. I didn’t want to walk home, in the dark and the silence. I staggered to the bathroom, hoping that, if nothing else, I could lock myself in for the eight to fifteen minutes it would take for my taxi to get there.

I locked the door and went to the sink to splash water on my face and see how badly I’d hurt my lip, and that’s when I saw it. As I lifted my lip to check the damage, there was a dark spot in my smile. A tooth, missing. An incisor. I touched the spot, unable to believe what I was seeing. It was simply…gone. Had I chipped off my own tooth, somehow? I couldn’t understand. It was just…gone.

Then the pain in my stomach overtook me again, and I doubled over on the floor. It felt like something was tearing loose from inside of my organs, like the knives were breaking free at last. It was the pain of the last week but worse, worse than it had ever been, and I couldn’t even crawl to the toilet before I vomited.

Blood spilled from my mouth and over the fake linoleum. I spat out a half dozen small, hard, perfectly intact teeth. When I felt inside my mouth with my tongue, all of my teeth were present, save for the one. I felt the ripping again and another half dozen teeth clattered to the floor: molars, eyeteeth, an array. I screamed, then. I screamed and couldn’t stop screaming, even as I felt my throat close up with rows of sharp and gnashing bone.

It’s funny, how people expect you to forget things like trauma. I remember everything that happened after that: Mabel knocking on the door, pleading with her wet, empty mouth for me to let her in; the sirens; the paramedics forcing down the door; the empty, spotless kitchen we passed through on the way out, with its dimly flickering fluorescent lights and the mason jars lined up beneath the industrial sink, full of teeth. I remember wondering if Maude’s were there, and Mabel’s. I wondered if anyone would pick up mine from the blood on the bathroom floor, wash them and put them in a jar of their own.

I remember the ambulance, and thinking that my parents would kill me for the expense, and that I still didn’t know if I would pass my midterms. And then, finally, someone gave me some kind of gas and I passed out.

It’s been three days, and the tests are inconclusive so far. I gave my statement to the police, but there’s not much they can do with phantom teeth. I guess that’s why they’ve called you in. I don’t know if you know what’s happening to me, or why.

The hospital is taking care of me alright, but I miss going on my walks, and the food is terrible. I’d do just about anything for a piece of apple pie.

Statement ends.

***

This was the first statement I tried to record myself, just to get a feel for the flow of it. It'd need a lot of editing to actually work on a podcast! But I'm pleased nonetheless

The Consuming AU can be found here

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4

#tma #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #writing #fanfic #ao3 fanfic #original statements #the flesh #the lonely #the consuming au

[a-world-in-grey]

I seem to remember a snippet where Sola fell into the Tealper Crag and was presumed dead. Could you please share something about this au?

Bring Back Memories au!

I'm actually playing around with having this au split into four main parts, from the pov of each of Sola's Retinue. Saving Sola's pov for the prologue, and maybe the epilogue? Need to figure out how it ends before I decide if there's an epilogue.

First up is gonna be Nyx, followed by Tredd, then Sola's Hand and Shield, who I'm revealing quite yet.

Not gonna lie, Nyx and Tredd are gonna be in for a rough time in this fic, and it's not gonna get any easier after they finally learn Sola is still alive. >:)

This au is really gonna dig into the themes of identity, and the grief of losing the foundation you've built your identity - or part of it - on. How to pick up the shattered pieces of your world and continue trudging on.

As for what's happening in Insomnia following Sola's funeral:

-The kingsglaive meets Ignis when he tracks down Nyx to ask when they'd be free to bring Noctis for a visit to Little Galahd. Nyx asks if there's anything in Little Galahd Noctis wants to see first. Ignis asks if Nyx has any suggestions.

-Luche cuts in and suggests bringing Noctis here to the glaive training grounds to meet the rest of the Fourth first. That way everyone can get to know each other. Nyx adds that they can show Noctis the things his sister learned with them.

-Ignis nods and says he'll see if Noctis is amenable. Tredd tells Ignis that the rest of the prince's retinue might as well come too - unless they plan on letting the prince wander around Little Galahd without them? Ignis states that he did not want to presume their welcome. Nyx tells them that Ignis and Gladio are welcome to come with Noctis.

-Gladiolus actually watches one of the glaive training sessions the day before Noctis is scheduled to visit. The young Shield is… not handling Sola's death well. The glaives have spent enough time with Abyssus to recognize when someone's hackles are up, and Gladiolus is feeling very out of his element and defensive about it. Fortunately, the wiser glaives keep the others from poking the fifteen year old.

-Noctis is accompanied by Ignis, Gladio, and Cyrus. The golden carbuncle doesn't leave Noctis' side or shoulder or arms for the entire visit. The glaives not currently training are more than happy to trade off telling stories about Sola to Noctis or explain to Gladio and Ignis the various courses. One of the Bellum ask if Gladio is thinking about going through the glaive training like Sola did. Gladio crosses his arms and says that he's only fifteen. Elea snorts and says that it didn't stop Sola. Barely fifteen and the kid was top of the cadre. Bit embarrassing for the rest of them, getting left in the dust by someone who wasn't even a recruit. They tell him to think about it.

-Abyssus continues to stick to Nyx's side like a burr, and the first time during the warp course that Abyssus jumps up and looks back at Nyx, clearly waiting for Nyx to join him how Sola once did, Nyx can barely breathe past the knot in his chest. It's difficult, learning to fight and ride with Abyssus. Nyx doesn't have Sola's sensitivity to magic, can't feel where Abyssus is going to warp to like Sola could. But Tanis Bestia calls in a favor from one of the Beast-Riders living out in the Outlands, and Keras Bestia helps Nyx and Abyssus learn to work together.

-The Fourth is back on short mission rotation - still understaffed - when Gladio decides to go through glaive training like Sola did. While everyone can tell that the glaive fighting style doesn't suit Gladio - too much magic, too much movement, when he'd rather plant his feet and break apart anything that comes at him - the training is good for him. The other glaives don't treat him like a kid. They don't quite treat him as an adult, but he's definitely an apprentice Hunter which affords him a level of consideration that the civilian Lucians clearly don't match. By the time the Fourth returns from the front, Gladio has finished the infantry training and is much more settled in himself.

-Meanwhile, Noctis and Ignis have been getting to know Little Galahd. Ignis, of course, is loving the cuisine. The Galahdians are impressed at this little Lucian kid who can actually handle Galahdian spice, and some of them gleefully tell Ignis and Noctis about Sola's complete inability to handle it. Noctis loves that he's not treated differently than anyone else in Little Galahd. Sure, there's a bit of wariness at first until whichever glaive he's with introduces him as 'Sola's little brother,' at which point the wariness dissipates. He's still clearly not Galahdian, but he's included, It's refreshing. The kids his age don't care that he's the prince. They just want to know if he wants to join in on whatever game they're playing and never hold it against him when he tires out faster because of his back.

#ffxv #Bring Back Memories au #Nyx and Tredd's povs are going to deal a lot with healing from grief #Noctis gets to make friends before he meets Prompto! #he's still gonna meet and be friends with Prompto #don't worry about that #Noctis needs his sunshine Heart

[vio1315]

Oh right 

I keep meaning to do a life update

Because long time followers remember when I posted a lot of personal struggles on here and I like never follow up on that stuff

And have since stopped posting personal stories as often whoops

Honestly I don’t remember everything I left as a loose thread that could be ‘is she okay’ so basically:

>Yes I am okay

>Most the stuff I was having trouble with happened like 5+ years ago now

>I am still pretty shut in, but I have a good job and I do go out once a week technically

>Much more mentally stable, I don’t really get the sort of empty feelings I used to anymore

>Every day I am unsure if I am like 🤖 to other people, or if I live normally. But I have unworked a lot of the emotional repression stuff I was doing subconsciously, and have gained a capacity for the ‘feeling of love’ (since love isn’t really a feeling, but you know the feeling I mean). Idk if I never experienced it before, but if I did it was Extremely rare compared to now. I certainly had devotion, but idk

It’s like ‘oh my prayers were answered on this topic again :0 ‘

I think I am pretty content generally, but I still don’t have happy feelings or fun feelings that often on my own, but this is super normal for me and doesn’t bother me the way the ‘void feelings’ did. It just vibing

>I did get a few extra sensory issues, probably from being shut in, but nothing that makes it any harder to go out. I should go out more still, but not many ideas of where to go for now

>I lost touch with the rest of my rl friends more or less (ﾟ⊿ﾟ) I went through a big thing of making myself not burn bridges and then like 4 months later they stopped contacting me anyways. I haven’t really felt any issue about it so have been leaving it be, but I guess I’ll crack that case back open if it ever starts to feel like a big thing that needs to be done

>My family is doing pretty well : ) 

>Story stuuffffff. I went through about a year of work to make my to do list better, so now I can focus on writing, sort of. And hopefully I can finish my script for TTF in good time now after the Big Delay of relaying the foundation and needing to get life in order. It will take a Long time because I insist on doing all 10 arcs before starting to draw it, so like... I still am mostly gonna be quiet on the topic for awhile

>Life plans? Nope, never. I still live very in the present, so I will just continue my job till I get fired probably and try my best to keep using my free time well. Or start

>Nobody wonders about this but I swear to you, vitamins/supplements make me sick every time I take them. Like literally sick. Like with germs and things. How????? How???? They had nothing in common between the three diff supplements, but each time I started I would get sick for like 2 weeks or a month ??? But I will keep trying to see if this is actually happening because ??? How ????

>Oh yeah, I am trying to get my health better and actually gained much weight 🥳 maybe someday exercise too, but I wanna tighten daily schedule first

>I am looking at some other mental disorders where I think ‘do I have that???’ But just for the sake of communication. I still don’t really need medication to manage the strange stuff. Coping mechanisms generally work pretty good for me, and learning to weed out bad ones and so on. I haven’t felt ANXIOUS in a bit now, and idk maybe not as often. I know I was like a year or two ago, but it goes down every year overall.

Lots of things that used to make me anxious just don’t so much anymore

That’s everything I can really think of right now

Life is basically good overall for me. 

Health is good for me, though I still need to work on actually doing things to be good to my body.

Socializing is pretty good in the forms I do it, but I still need to go out more to prevent my brain from getting weird about ‘sounds and feelings I can’t control’ and all

Fam : ) 

Everything is chill actually. I basically vent here less now just because I have more opportunity to vent directly to people when there’s a need to wjdnejd but I don’t think anything major comes up that often

But also my emotional memory is really low hwjdnwjd like I know for a fact a year or two ago there was a month where I was super unwell and stressed, but legit idk what that felt like, I just know it happened

So maybe the frequency Could be similar, but I wouldn’t know it 🤔 but certainly less major events happen, and that’s good with me

Just an update cuz I realize it’s easy to vent and all, but when things resolve, it’s less interesting to talk about, so you leave people hanging unintentionally, since posting directly on here barely feels like talking to anyone anyways, super easy to let that go

I am not a private person honestly, so hope this doesn’t seem weird to anyone widjsjdn

#Vio's Personal #Yaaaa boooiiiii #I didn’t mention faith progress stuff because I don’t think I talked a lot about that before :0 #But I have been less fearful for a long time now which is bueno #But I am still lazy so #and also my ability to comprehend what I read I have realized is Bad #So need to learn how to study and such #But that will be oookaaaaay probably #My issue is if you show me videos where people explain things #I will find something about the person where I can’t stand them #is how it keeps goimg #but videos are my best format alas #but that’s just a ramble so anyways

[thegraveyardjohnsongrey]

My text to Jeremy (and all in-crisis couples lol)

Hi hi!!!! Sorry i didn’t get back to you sooner. Had a hectic schedule earlier and wanted to respond properly! 

First off, I want to affirm you in all the fears and doubts you currently have in your heart. Without even hearing “specifics”, I know that they are real and that they are all valid.

Second, I’m honored and actually really happy that I’m a person you trust to talk about this! In all seriousness, I genuinely want for you and Arlyns journey as an engaged couple to be as healthy and as supported as it can be! Even if that means having some hard and humbling discussions along the way. 

I think whats most important is that we are honest every single step of this journey, and that we make sure that the timeline we set for ourselves does not take priority over what’s best for our spiritual preparation. 

I think it’s very clear that you and Arlyn are not the perfect couple and that you have a lot of discussions to have and work through.

And that’s ok. 

I think if all couples waited until they were in a “perfect state” to get married, then I promise you like 97% of those married couples wouldn’t exist. Lol 

I do think, however, that every married couple has a starting point on their wedding day. And where you guys are as a couple on that very first day, is either going to make the rest of your journey together harder or easier. 

Based on what you currently know, and what you still see to this day, are you willing to grow with Arlyn forever?

Bc even if in the next month, you guys have solved all your problems and ARE the perfect couple that day, there’s no way of knowing that those same solutions will be what you guys need as a couple a year from now. What might be today’s solution might look different tomorrow. And the people you are today may be a little different tomorrow.

And that’s also ok. 

I think that’s the whole purpose and calling behind Matrimony. Is to recognize that this person CAN change, and is ALLOWED to change, and is GOING to change. This person, is allowed to be VERY different from me. But do I allow those differences to separate me from her? Or do I allow those things to bring me closer to her? 

In marriage, I’m sure lots of things will go differently than from what you expected. And I’m sure every day is going to be a different battle.

But if you both have a foundation of truly loving God first, and because of that love, you both understand what Marriage is **supposed to be - and if you are genuinely excited to grow with this person and are willing to work on this constantly-evolving-thing that involves two people with two functioning minds and voices and opinions, 

Everything else will fall into place. 

Maybe not in the way we’d like, and certainly not in the timing we want. (But it DOES figure itself out. So long as the Spirit is involved.) Haha

My oldest sister and her now husband were engaged for 5 years. (Granted, for different reasons)- but nonetheless, those 5 years still provided them with a unique time to flesh out any doubts and to focus on each other and build toward marriage!

In my opinion, 

Working through core issues as a couple and potentially postponing your wedding date is a much better route than a having divorce 2 years down the road (not to mention way less expensive LOL)

Bc Let’s be real. Youre not going to stop fighting once you get married. In fact, I’m sure the arguments will even triple. Because now you’re together 24 hrs around the clock and now there’s more to lose and more at stake. 

Anything can happen. And it is what it is and people are people. But worrying about the future is pointless if you’re not worrying about 

Fine the right place and the right time to dive deeper into those hard questions WITH her. THATS how you’ll invite the Lord even harder into your relationship. THAT is how you are going to practice being that married couple. And seeing if this is actually yalls thang or not.

Maybe God’s sign for you is IN the hard work. Maybe its only until AFTER you’ve made every effort to further discern if this is where you are called to be - that you will find the “different point of view” you need.

Ask yourself, “If ive committed myself to this person in the eyes of the Lord, am I willing to journey WITH them as they change into a different person? Or if they’ll always BE that different person?”

Tbh, I think y’all just need the actual hardcore work and discussions. Yes, y’all need to talk about housing, finances, whatever- but most importantly HOW you two communicate/argue/express differences, and IF you are both willing to do that for the rest of your life. With *each other

Engagement isn’t a deadline, it’s a start. It’s a pregame for WHATS to come! 

And if you’re affirmed by it, then praise God. 

But if the pregame isn’t your vibe and it’s genuinely not where you feel that God has called you, then praise God too Bc now you know.

In my honest opinion, you can look for and wait on Gods affirmation all you want. But in doing so, you leave a much smaller space for God to work and for you to see things actually happen. 

Have those Convos now. Be honest with her. Practice being that married couple now. So that when the time comes, you’ll know that your discussions are honest and that it is where your hearts are. Express what you need and also be open to what she needs.

[cozycottagetarot]

Pick A Pile: How Can You Take Better Care of Yourself?

I did this reading a bit different from my others. It’s mainly based on impressions as I’m only using the images and any text on the cards at face value along with whatever else comes to me. So feedback would be appreciated. Another thing is the piles all have intertwining messages so if you feel drawn to two piles, then by all means I encourage you to check them both out.

Paid Readings (I’ll be updating them again)

Disclaimer: All readings and tarot/blog games are for fun and entertainment purposes only. It is in no way meant to act as or replace professional advice of any kind. You know yourself and what’s going on in your life best so I asks that you trust yourself above all else. Finally please take only what resonates from the reading which may be some of it, all of it, or none at all.

PILE 1

Tarot Cards: 7 of Cups, 8 of Wands, The Sun

Pile 1, the way you can take better care of yourself is by making a decision. With the 7 of Cups I see that you have all these opportunities being presented in front of you but you have no idea which one to go with. I get the impression from the cards that from postponing making a decision or choice, you’re starting to feel the brightness in other areas of your life dim. With the 8 of Wands and The Sun following however, I feel like once you make a decision, results and positive things will happen quickly, bringing you happiness. The Sun has a faint face depicted in it, so I feel like you don’t have to worry too much about unintended consequences. I see this as a sign you are being protected from unintended or unpleasant consequences as a result of your decision. Also, connecting with your inner child may be a way to help you make this decision.

The next cards that came out are: Protection (Call back your power. Cut the cords. Soul retrieval.) Soul Family (Call in your tribe. You don’t have to do it alone.) Anna, Grandmother of Jesus (Seeding the light, laying foundations. Divine plan.) The Ever-Unfolding Rose (Cracked open. It’s happening for you, not to you.)

With these cards I think some of you could be going through a 'dark night of the soul' (read: a very difficult time in your life). You may be feeling like somewhere along the line you’ve lost yourself or your direction as to where you’re heading next in life or what it is you truly desire (any Lucifer fans here because I hear Tom Ellis’s voice in my head haha). You may be asking yourself questions such as 'Why is this the way life is happening? Why me? Who am I even?' But even though it might seem unfair or lacking sense right now, keep in mind that whatever is going on is helping you in some format. Situations within reason of course, using your discernment here is best. It’s truly all about how you tell your story. Another thing is you don’t have to make these decisions on your own. Turn to your family and your friends for help/advice. If necessary, maybe you can seek professional help. If either or those things isn't really an option, you could always try taking some time to nurture yourself and journey inside to help you remember or figure out what’s important to you. When you make that effort to find/listen to yourself outside of the noise of everything else, I think that’s when you’ll find the information necessary to help make your decision.

Remaining Cards: The Hourglass Dolphin (46) — your achievement is only a matter of time. The Three Rhine Maidens (15) — love is a virtue that endure eternally.

The Hourglass Dolphin is all about finding balance between two aspects of your life, typically work and play. Dividing your time and remembering to put EXTRA care into taking care of your basic needs is another thing that’s going to help you find success. I feel like you are in a transitory phase and it really is only a matter of time before whatever darkness that may be clouding your life right now disappears.

The Three Rhine Mermaids talks about a phase in your life coming full circle, and once that happens your hearts desires are going to start materialising in your physical/the 3D.

The North Witch (23) — This card just kind of confirms or reiterates that with patience this dark phase is going to fade.

The Toad Witch (7) —This card talks about gaining wisdom from adversity. Also a secret admirer as well. There were messages of love laced through out the cards but they weren’t clear until now. Similarly, I think this will reflect in your life that after you’ve found stability once things have cleared up, you will find love as well.. or better yet, love will find you. Do keep in mind it might not be super quick… maybe Spring or Summer (depending on when you're reading this).

Self Care Activities Ideas (Homemade deck): Look good; feel good (put effort into looking the way you want), Believe In Yourself, Have a fruit (incorporate more fruits into your diet).

PILE 2

Hello Pile 2. The way for you to take better care of yourself right now is through doing what makes you happy.

Tarot Cards: Ace of Swords, The Sun, The Devil

I actually pulled the Ace of Swords last. Also before I started focusing on your pile while shuffling, the Four of Swords reversed came out.

Thinking of these two cards together, I think you need to pull back and ask yourself if what you’re doing is really the best thing for you. I feel like you guys could be in a really good place right now— at least at face value. The cards have darker backgrounds, except The Sun. I feel like whatever you are doing isn’t really sparking joy inside. Maybe it’s familial or peer pressure related? The life path you’re on right now seems ideal and fulfilling to everyone else, but somehow I feel like deep down inside it doesn’t feel that way. You may feel chained or held back as shown by The Devil. Looking at The Sun and The Devil, they came out together side by side. I feel like this is more family related meaning parents, parental figures or mentors. They may be trying to look out for you by telling you to study a certain topic or take a certain job because it’s safe, when what you truly want to do may be a little bit more risky. So even though you’re playing it safe right now and have things to celebrate, you may not be able to shake the that unsatisfied feeling inside.

The next cards that came out are: Warrior Woman (Have you answered your deepest calling?) Play (Have fun. Celebrate. Don’t be so serious.) Break The Chain (Ancestral patterns. Healing. Rewriting the future.) Transformation (Things are changing at a cellular level. Deep healing.)

All the figures in these cards look like they’re in their power. It makes me think you may be ignoring or avoiding stepping into the energy of your higher self. I kind of had the though fear of backlash pop into my head, and while it is a valid fear, I don’t feel like it’s something you have to worry about a lot. I feel like you need to schedule more time for yourself in general as well. You can’t ‘fight’ for other people all the time, you also have to ‘fight’ for you.

I’m just noticing something about the placement of the cards. Warrior Woman has a sword and is placed right next the the Ace of Swords. Break The Chain is right next to The Devil, and the sun is shining in Transformation and Play, in the same position as the one in The Sun… As I was saying, I feel like you need to just take a moment to connect with yourself. Ask yourself what is it you truly want and begin rewriting your future*.

*This is the part where I let it be known I need people to practice life coaching with so if you’re interested you can message me. 18 years and up only though.

Remaining Cards: The Siren (14) — In the treasure of a day, light is thrown on what could be tomorrow. The Stripped Dolphin (30) Good news, flowing through the ether waves will answer your prayers.

The Siren Is mostly about observation and not forcing connections. The Stripped Dolphin is about good things happening for you, especially by surprise. It’s also about new beginnings in any area of your life. However there’s also a message about not getting caught up in many opportunities, so if you were drawn to pile 1 as well, I see this as a sign to check out the pile as well.

The Silver Moon Witch (2) has a message of being able to see progress by the next full or new moon. However this card advises you to choose carefully when it’s the right time to go with the flow versus ‘swimming’ against the tide. Relating to above, journey inside yourself to figure out if you are taking the right course if action by choosing to stick with the path you’re on versus yelling plot twist and doing something different.

The Full Moon Witch (18) has two sides to it. On one hand you can expect ‘heartfelt’ plans coming to fruition, but on the other hand emotions may be running high and words that aren’t meant may be said. This another one of the moon phases cards, so you may find during the full moon you may have disagreements with your loved ones but once it starts to wane, disagreements may also reach a resolution. I think this relates to the The Silver Moon Witch card as well, so maybe before or during a full moon may not be the best time to bring up anything that may cause a disagreement?

Self Care Activities Ideas (Homemade deck): Journal, Get Creative, Listen To Music (there may be messages in songs for you)

PILE 3

Pile 3, you guys have been giving me hell from the moment I sat down to pull cards for your reading. From focusing and interpreting to editing. Everything was a mess and I’m assuming you a significant part of your life maybe as well? Or your headspace at least.

Aside from my struggles with your reading, based on the cards, I see you need to focus on yourself.

Tarot Cards: The Chariot, The High Priestess, Queen of Wands reversed.

Starting with your Tarot in no particular order, you have The Chariot, The High Priestess and Queen of Wands reversed. The Queen of Wands is my ideal (you) card. When it’s reversed, I see it as a sign [you] are not embodying the energy of your highest self and/or something in your life is out of balance. Both The Chariot and The High Priestess have black and white polarities, so I see it more as you needing to put yourself back into balance. Something may feel hidden from you, though you’re not really sure what and you want to push forward but it’s just not really happening? On the bottom of the deck is the 9 of Swords which notes to fear, depression, anxiety, etc and is needing to release those emotions. Obviously it can be more complex than it sounds, but I’m hoping you get the idea. Brain-dump came to me. Maybe you need to do a brain-dump and survey/assess your ‘kingdom’ so you can flip that Queen of Wands energy around and allow your chariot to race onward. The next cards that came out are:

The Crumbling (What are you clinging on to?) —> Do you need to release anything? Material items, a goal, a belief, way of life, or maybe just the act of trying to have it all together?

Boundaries (Where do you need to establish better boundaries?) —> Do you need better boundaries with yourself? Habits? People? Enviroment? School/Career?

Share Your Voice (Come out of the cave. Persecution. Expression.) It’s time to step into the limelight, because the world is your stage. Maybe you’ve been hanging back and suppressing who you truly are, but now it’s time to step forward into a new role… a you role. You don’t have to go from stand in actor to lead role over night, but do brainstorm and take baby steps daily to get there.

Keepers Of The Earth (You are not alone. Ancient ancestors stand beside you.) Take the meaning as you will, but I see it as a message to look for support in unexpected places. Maybe it’s an online community of people who can relate to you. Maybe it’s a book, article or video. Who knows, it could even be a friend or family member you didn’t think could relate or help you out. Remaining Cards: The Kraken (38) — Your success and happiness lie within you. The Great Sea Monster (37) — To accomplish you dream plan and believe.

The main theme of The Kraken is release. Good fortune/luck will come to you by delving into your subconscious mind to free the conscious. Returning to nature and the things that bring you inner joy. Good fortune coming in small waves which eventually grow into big ones.

The Great Sea Monster is about taking action and again, freeing your conscious mind by looking into your unconscious mind. Also there is more than one way to solve a dilemma, you just have to search the right way. The Immortal Witch (4) — new beginnings are happening for you, and your desires are on their way to you although it might not appear so currently. (Kind of like planting a seed. It’s growing though we can’t see it until it burst through the soil). The Fairy Ring Witch (9) — mental and physical communication. Connecting with or making friends with similar skills or talents. Self Care Activities Ideas (Homemade deck): Tend to yourself, Slow and steady, Get creative, Read a book (maybe a self help book relevant to what you're going through).

#pick a card #pick a pile #pick a card reading #pick a picture #tarot reading #pick a pile reading #pac #pac reading #ariesmoontarot

[soramei]

Intentional - Part 5

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader (she/her)

Summary: Landing your first real job at JYPE was something short of a miracle. You were prepared to face the new struggles of this elusive career whilst moving to a new country, however, nothing could have prepared you for him. Will stolen glances, secret touches, and hushed nights spent in the recording room ever be enough for the both of you?

Genre: idol!bang chan au, forbidden relationship, coworkers to eventual lovers, slow burn

Warnings: cursing, eventual smut

Word Count: 4.0k

Masterlist

A/N: yeah so about that upload... i was really busy this whole week but i hope to start uploading mondays again! thanks for understanding!!

Taglist (reply to be tagged!): @planetdemon​ @hvunvely​ @fluffybitch0325​ @fashi0nablee @juststop88 @straykisz @theultimaterad @margaritas-en-la-montania @meowtella

There was a pause in the phone call.

You started biting your nails, instantly regretting what you had just done. Basking in your stupidity, you could only wait for his response, for it was too late to retract what you had just said. Your day must have been worse than you thought. It must have been so bad that you had the nerve to ask Bang Chan — an idol, a person with a strict schedule, somebody who you had an argument with — to come over to your pathetic little apartment.

You kept nibbling on your fingers.

“I’ll get my jacket.”

You froze, eyes wide.

“Huh?” You were bewildered. You weren’t even expecting an answer, much less this.

“It’s cold this late at night,” he explained, “I’ll be there soon.”

You didn’t know what to say. You heard rustling on the other side of the call.

“Wait, I’ll tell you my address,” you blurted out.

“You did,” he said.

You frowned, trying to remember if you did or not. That’s right. You blushed at the memory of your first day of work.

“Oh yeah, umm, I’ll hang up now.” You awkwardly said, hanging up before Bang Chan could fit another word in.

You were a statue in your own apartment, clinging on to the last words exchanged on your phone. In actuality, you didn’t know why you asked him to come over. It was just blurted out in the moment. Or maybe it was a result of your extremely frustrating day. Either way, you felt extremely embarrassed that you did so, especially so late at night.

You started boiling some water, still trying to rationalize what you had just done. This was normal for friends, right? Na-eun and Yoojin came over just yesterday and you were friends with both of them. You knew for a fact that you two were friends, but you still couldn’t find an explanation for the strange feeling in your chest whenever you were around him.

Turning your phone on, you checked your face in the selfie camera. It was a miracle that your makeup didn’t smudge off. You thanked your new ‘CLIO’ foundation cushion, it looked like all that time you spent doing your makeup didn’t go to waste. You stared at your reflection for a couple more seconds before turning your phone off. Why did it matter what you looked like anyways? You wiped off any remaining lipstick with the back of your hand.

The kettle started rumbling, letting you know that the water was ready. You took out your mug to prepare some tea. It was a bad idea to have tea this late at night, but there was something about your mother’s tea that could knock a grown man out.

Sipping your tea, you turned on Youtube to an episode of a Korean web-drama that was getting really popular. It was another one with some rich CEO and a clumsy average girl, but you still watched, fully enamoured. On the recommendations list, there was a video with Felix — the other person you saw at the cafeteria on your first day — on the thumbnail. I can never escape from work, you thought to yourself, rolling your eyes.

You clicked on it anyways, just to pass the time. Watching through the video, you were shocked by the production value. Well, that, and Bang Chan. Whether it was hair and makeup or just his acting, he was so different from the person you knew in real life. You were in awe by his natural charisma gleaming at you through the screen as it was a rare quality that few people you knew possessed. Embarrassingly, you found your eyes drawn to only him in every group shot. He looked good in an apron.

You got distracted by more random videos before clicking back on your drama. The next episode was just about to start when the buzzer to your apartment rang.

It was Bang Chan.

Hurriedly, you shuffled towards your door. With your hand on the handle, you took a deep breath before opening the door.

“Hey,” you smiled.

“Hey,” he smiled back. He was leaning over you, his forearm on the doorframe. His coat was bulky, almost engulfing his whole upper body. He was wearing the same beanie you saw on multiple occasions, and in his hand was a white plastic bag.

You stepped aside, silently gesturing for him to come inside. He took your hint and sauntered in the room, head turning left and right to observe his surroundings.

“It’s not much,” you blushed, realizing how small your apartment really was. You could basically see all your belongings from the center of the room.

“No, it’s cute.” Bang Chan looked at you, taking his hat off. His dimple peaked out. “I brought some leftovers from that barbecue place. The kids and I went there after our shoot today.”

So that was what the bag was. With only food on your mind, you rushed to help hang Bang Chan’s coat before setting the table up.

The food was really good. They were leftovers, but it was so good. Stuffing a bite of pork belly in your mouth, you sighed. Where was this food earlier today?

“It’s good, right?” Bang Chan asked whilst chewing on a piece of meat. “I’ll take you next time.”

It was like he read your mind. You nodded eagerly in response, to which Bang Chan replied with a smirk.

“So, uh,” he scratched the back of his neck, “how was your date today?”

You rolled your eyes, not wanting to remember that embarrassment of a night. It was such a pity too, because that man was probably the most gorgeous man you’ve ever witnessed. You swore he had just stepped out of a webtoon when you first met him.

“It was alright,” you shrugged. It was difficult to reflect on the date without putting a damper on your mood, but maybe vocalizing it would have helped ease your discomfort. “He compared me to a model, you know.”

Bang Chan chuckled, making you look up in confusion.

“Was it because you looked exactly like the model?”

“No,” you replied.

His face immediately fell. “You’re kidding, right? Y/n, tell me you don’t believe anything that loser said. He’s got to be something below garbage if he was comparing two women.”

“Thanks, Chan.” You tried to force a grin on your face. “I appreciate it.”

There was a pause.

“I know my opinion means nothing, but Y/n, I think you’re beautiful.”

You stared into Bang Chan’s eyes, frozen like a statue. Your heart was beating so loud that you could hear it more than you could feel it. He stared back at you from across the table; mouth parted, breaths uneven.

You’ve received many compliments before, to which you would always reply with a smile and a quick ‘thank you’. However, it felt as if your brain malfunctioned in this moment and your heart was the only thing keeping you alive. You could still feel your body, but you couldn’t think.

“Thank you, Chan.” You awkwardly coughed, blushing profusely. Immediately focusing your eyes at the table, you couldn’t bear to keep looking at him.

The two of you ate in silence, with only the tapping of chopsticks adding to the ambience of the room. You wanted to make conversation with him, but you did not want to be the first one to break the silence. It frustrated you that you were so shy right now as you’ve never been like this back home.

To heck with it, you thought. There was no need to be shy around him.

“So,” you still couldn’t look him in the face, “any shows you’ve been watching lately?”

Small talk was good. You could do small talk.

“Actually, I’ve been wanting to watch this Transformers movie for quite a while.”

“Transformers?” You’ve never heard of that one. It must’ve been an American movie.

“Seriously?” his eyes widened. “You’ve never seen Transformers before? Oh, we’ve gotta watch it now.”

“You wanna?” you smiled. “I haven’t used my TV since moving in.”

“Mhm, let’s do it.” He stuffed the rest of the leftovers in his mouth before standing up and clearing the table.

You watched him clear the table in a trance. You should have offered to help since it was your own home, but watching the veins on his hands appear and disappear was way more interesting. Watching him, you suddenly remembered the hoodie.

“Oh, that’s right!” You exclaimed, shuffling over to the bag with the hoodie in it. Taking Bang Chan’s black hoodie out, you held it up to him with both hands.

He looked down at you and chuckled.

“Keep it,” he took it from your hands and slipped the hoodie over your head. “At least until you buy a new jacket.”

“I will.” You rolled the sleeves of his hoodie higher to show your hands. You turned the light off, leaving only the floor lamp to illuminate your apartment. Grabbing the remote from your coffee table, you summoned Bang Chan over to the couch.

You turned on the TV, fooling around with the remote control for a few seconds before giving up.

“I give up.” You sighed. Pouting, you handed the remote over to Bang Chan. He took it from you and started reading the buttons.

“Netflix, right?” Bang Chan asked, to which you nodded. “There we go.”

He scrolled through the titles, looking for the coveted movie. Once he found the movie, he quickly selected it and turned the subtitles on. That was nice of him, you thought. Although you also studied english in university, it was nowhere near the level of watching a full english movie.

The title sequence started and you tried to immerse yourself in the movie. You watched in awe, surprised at the fast pace of the action already.

Fully engrossed, you started to sink your back into the couch. Half-way throughout the title scene, you felt Bang Chan stretch his arm behind you to rest on the back pillow. Suddenly, you started feeling too aware of your surroundings. You sat up straighter.

Throughout the whole movie, you caught wafts of Bang Chan’s cologne everytime he moved. He smelled like safety and familiarity.

You turned your head up a little to get a glimpse of his profile, mapping out every edge and curve of his face. The light illuminated the tip of his nose, along with his dewy cheekbones and chin. The plum of his lips were let slightly open, allowing his teeth to peek out slightly. You unconsciously let out a sigh.

“Something wrong?” He turned his body to face you.

You shook your head and focused on the movie.

The rest of the movie was pretty good, although it lost you at parts. You watched the end credits in silence, not knowing what to say.

“So,” Bang Chan cleared his throat beside you, “I should get going now. Since it’s late.”

You turned your head to face him, not realizing how close the two of you had physically gotten throughout the movie. Looking up at him, your face was inches away from his. His face was almost enveloped by the darkness of your apartment. You heard his breathing get heavier.

“Yeah,” you breathed out, “you should.”

He didn’t get up though.

You heard his staggered breath as you kept looking in his eyes. The end credits had long been over by now. Your own breath was just as shaky and you heard your heart beat out of your chest.

He started leaning in. Slowly.

Your eyes widened. You gulped, your nerves snapped you back to reality all of a sudden. Wasn’t he supposed to be your friend? This wasn’t what friends did… Right?

Clearing your throat, you leaned back shyly.

“You should go. I don’t want the others to notice you’re gone.”

Silence.

“Yeah.” Bang Chan’s lips flattened in a line. Without another word, he stood up and walked towards your door.

You followed him in silence, hoping to at least send him off. Wrapping your arms around your torso, you watched as he put his boots on in the dark. He tied his laces, and with a nod, he opened the door and stepped out.

You were left with a sour taste in your mouth and a cloudiness in your head. Still standing in front of your door, you tried to process what had just happened. However, you couldn’t. All you could think about was the soft curls of his hair, the delicate threads of his eyelashes, and his lips. The dusty rose of his lips. The parting of his lips. Inviting you in.

You were frozen, looking at nothing particularly. The only thing on your mind was Bang Chan.

The door opened.

“Hey, sorry, I forgot my jack-”

His sentence never got a chance to complete itself as you rushed to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. As your lips touched his, you felt a fire ignite in you like nothing you’ve felt before. Your fingers clawed at the nape of his neck, wanting more. Wanting to be closer.

Almost immediately, Bang Chan responded. He was taken by shock at first, but his hands didn’t waste any time to grip your waist. You felt the muscles of his shoulders tighten as he pulled you closer.

He moved you back into your apartment by the waist, lips never leaving your own. You blindly shuffled backwards, only focused on trying to get closer to him. If that was even possible.

You ignored the clunking of his boots against your clean floor, allowing him to guide you to the couch. A whimper left his lips as you used your hand to comb through his hair, pulling it. His soft brown curls were silk against your fingertips.

The back of your legs hit the couch and he turned you around so he could sit on the couch. Your lips finally left his. You gasped for air, trying to steady your deep breaths.

Bang Chan’s breathing was synchronized with yours, his equally as unsteady. He reached his hands out again, grabbing your waist and pulling you on top of him. You were a ragdoll, responding to whatever he wanted to do to you.

With each knee on either side of him, you gripped his jaw and kissed him again. The fire inside of you instantly reignited. It was addicting.

The two of you didn’t dare to separate from each other, only parting to gasp for air every now and then. Even in the dark, you could imagine the plum of his lips and the threads of his eyelashes. This drove the fire in you more.

“What if the boys realize you’re gone?” you breathed out the next time you parted from his lips. They were most likely sleeping, but the thought still worried you.

“Fuck them.” Bang Chan exhaled. Grabbing the back of your neck, he reconnected his lips with yours. You gladly complied.

His sloppy kisses slowly moved from your lips to your jaw, then to your neck, eliciting a soft whimper from your throat. This seemed to only edge him on as kept leaving sloppy kisses against your neck, all the while running his hands up and down your waist.

His cologne surrounded you, keeping you safe. Soon later, the adrenaline left the two of you, leaving only the sound of heavy breathing to fill the room. You brushed your thumb under his eye to which he deeply inhaled.

“Chan?” you said. He was leaving kisses all over your collarbone.

“Hmm?” He didn’t seem to pay much mind to what you were saying.

“It’s half past three. I really think you should get going.” You didn’t want him to leave, but you were almost sure he had another packed schedule for tomorrow.

“Mhmm.” Your words went in one ear and out the other as he made his way up your neck again. You couldn’t help but close your eyes and let out a small moan.

“C’mon, get up. How did you even get here, by the way?” It took everything in you to break away from his touch, but you were starting to get sleepy.

“Taxi.” He said, helping you get up from his lap. He stood up after you, brushing his hand against your waist one last time before making his way over to his jacket.

“You’re allowed to ride a taxi?” You tilted your head, sceptical.

He slipped his jacket on.

“No.” He peppered little kisses on your cheeks. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that now.”

You giggled, pushing him by his shoulders out the door. He played along, pretending to stumble with every step he took back.

“Text me when you get home,” you said, repeating what he said to you on your first day of work.

He nodded in response and winked before turning around to head home. As soon as the door shut, you slapped both hands against your face. Your little act of impulse had spun your head in spirals. You didn’t know whether to feel relieved at the fact that Bang Chan reciprocated your impulsive actions, or to worry that you had not only just kissed your coworker — but also a freaking idol. No one — not Manager Chen, your friends, or even anyone in the general public — could know about this. If they did, both your careers would be screwed.

You doted on this thought as you got ready for bed, only the worst possible outcome came to mind. If either your manager or his manager knew about what happened tonight, you could get fired. Or even blacklisted. You sat in bed, nervously biting your nails.

Your phone buzzed.

Bang Chan: Hey, I got home. Nobody’s awake… ^^

Bang Chan: Don’t think too much, alright? It’s late, go to sleep…

You felt relief reading his text. For some reason, he knew you were overthinking your actions. You decided to listen to his words and go to sleep.

The next day, Sunday, was very uneventful compared to the day before. You texted Bang Chan back when you woke up, but because of his busy schedule, he hadn’t had the time to reply yet.

Yoojin called in when you were eating lunch, asking about your date. You told her the truth, explaining how there would definitely not be a second date with that man. She sounded disappointed and vehemently tried to set you up with another man in her pool. You politely declined, thinking about your restless night with Bang Chan.

You finished some work ahead of time to free up the next week. Since you were invited to work with Manager Chen at the content shooting, you assumed that you could lessen your work stress ahead of time.

The shooting days were allocated for Friday and Saturday, with there being an overnight stay at the mountains. Whilst you didn’t know the arrangements for Stray Kids, you were informed that the production crew booked a small lodge for the team. You were excited to not only see a behind the scenes of a real shoot, but to also possibly form a closer relationship with Manager Chen.

You were thankful that you did some work ahead of time as Monday’s workload was so much lighter than usual. People were still coming to you with their ideas for the project, but with your other work done, you had the time to go through everybody’s ideas.

You didn’t hear from Bang Chan the whole day, which was nothing out of the blue. You remembered him showing his schedule to you once. The amount of things he had to do everyday had your eyes bulging out from their sockets. All of a sudden, you were thankful for your nine-to-five job.

The next couple of days ran the same way as your Monday, with you easily breezing through your workload. Since you had more time during your breaks at work, you took to exploring the part of the building that you could. You admired all the art, the trophies, the awards and memorabilia. Of course, you also spent more time with your new friend Na-eun.

On Thursday, the day before the shoot, you were helping the producers by translating some notes for the script. All was going smoothly, when you got a text.

It was from Bang Chan.

You weren’t going to lie; you were curious as to what he sent you. He was basically silent the whole week so far, and if you were being honest, you missed hearing his voice. And seeing his face. And feeling his hands brush against your waist.

Bang Chan: Come to my recording room… I’ve got something to show you.

Your eyes lit up right away, curious as to what he wanted to show you. Quickly checking the time, you decided to take your lunch break then and there. After all, you didn’t have much work left for the day anyways.

Locking up your computer, you zoomed inconspicuously past all the other cubicles and made your way to the elevators. You weaved through the hallways of his floor, praying that your memory didn’t escape you. It seemed like your memory was on your side today as you found yourself in front of a familiar set of doors. You didn’t bother to knock before going in.

Inside was Bang Chan: feet up on the desk, drinking from his iced coffee, concentrating on his producing software. You smiled. He looked so comfortable, even in an ‘office’.

He had his headset in, and didn’t seem to notice that you had entered. You went up behind him and tapped his shoulder. He turned around, and immediately threw his feet off the desk and stood up upon seeing that it was you. You smirked.

“I should really put a ‘please knock’ sign on the door.” He cursed under his breath. He reached behind you to close the door.

You giggled.

“So, what do you have to show me?” you wondered aloud.

“A new song. Since the filming is tomorrow, the producers put me on a time crunch to finish the song by today.”

So that was why he was so busy, you thought. You didn’t realize how the sudden filming would have impacted his schedule for the month. Especially since it would take up two whole days.

He let you sit in his chair, and hovered over you to press play on the song. His chair smelled like his cologne.

As he was playing the song, your eyes drifted up to see his face. The face — even after only four days — you missed. The dark circles under his eyes were prominent. That, along with his disheveled hair, told you that he truly was dedicated to his work. You imagined him sitting where you were, two in the morning, sipping on his iced americano.

“You like it?” His eyes drifted towards you, resembling a puppy bringing a ball back to its owner.

“It’s amazing. I don’t know how you managed this in just a few days,” you said. And you were sincere too. You couldn’t imagine yourself doing any of this.

“Eh, you know, late nights.” he shrugged. “Wanna see another?”

You nodded, and the two of you began listening to another one of his songs. You listened in silent wonderment.

However, the silence didn’t last long as the two of you soon found yourselves on the couch: hands all over each other, lips the same. You were lying underneath him, his arms resting on either side of you to hold his weight up. Your lips never left his as you ran your hands up and down his defined biceps.

The two of you couldn’t stay away from each other. The sound of the songs that he had put on shuffle filled the room, along with a fleeting sigh of moan every now and then. Bang Chan’s hand had started wandering up your blouse when, all of a sudden, the door opened.

“Hey, I have the lyrics h-” He stopped mid-sentence, eyes wide.

Crap.

#stray kids #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids smut #bang chan smut #stray kids x reader #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fluff #bang chan scenarios #bang chan imagines #stray kids angst #bang chan angst #skz scenarios #skz imagines #stray kids fanfiction #bang chan fanfiction

[joyfulhopelox]

Red Gardenia

Pairing: Park Jimin x reader (non-idol!au, ballet!au)

Genre: fluff

Warnings: none

Word count: 7k (she the biggest one yet)

rating: pg

Summary: As a minor ballet dancer in the corps du ballet, suddenly thrown into the limelight you are struggling to cope with the pressure, but when a secret admirer with a love for gardenias comes forth you realise that you may actually be able to do it

Copyrights @joyfulhopelox for both the work and the banner

I want to throw the massivest thank you to my beta the amazing and talented @rosietae she's been the rock that supported this foundation and prevented it from crumbling. I had 2 breakdowns and a couple of identity crises when I wrote this one and her help has been a major pick me up. She made this from a withering bud into a fully bloomed flower and I can't express my thanks to her enough!

This is part 2 of my Love Blossom series and the 3/25 square for the @bangtanwritingbingo event (square: Park Jimin)

As always please leave feedback and/or talk to me as i love to hear from you! Enjoy <3

Entrée

A grand pas de deux usually begins with an entrée (literally "entrance"), which serves as a short prelude to and also unequivocally denotes the beginning of the dance suite.

You could do this, you could do this. You could definitely do this. The mantra had been in your head for the past few days. You’d hoped that the psychology articles about daily affirmations you read would work, but it proved to be more difficult than you thought.

Instead you felt like you wasted 10 minutes of your practice time, to stupidly look at yourself in the mirror. For those 10 minutes you kept telling yourself that you were able to dance as the main act in the show your ballet school had signed you up for. Maybe you were not doing it right; probably because you disconnected from those positive affirmations very often. So indeed, those 10 minutes were a waste of time.

Your mouth would say ‘you can do it’ but your brain would instantly doubt you, doubt your skills. You were always a dancer in the background and no one ever complimented your dancing more than necessary. How could you believe in yourself when, for years that’s all that it had been? Was all that doubt supposed to disappear just because all of a sudden you were called by your ballet master informing you of the big role change? You had been specifically picked to dance with one of the most prominent ballet dancers that your school had produced: none other than Park Jimin himself.

Everyone knew of him. He travelled abroad multiple times to be the star of a lot of performances. From New York, to Moscow, to Hong Kong, everyone had seen him in at least one performance. This, as well as the fact that you were a couple of years his junior, and in the corps du ballet instead of a soloist, had made it impossible for you to catch more than a glimpse of him around the school. But of course you had heard of him and his stellar performance. Everyone in your school had, but very few actually had the chance to interact with him. He seemed to have a small group of friends that he mostly spent his time with, but no one else seemed to have gotten the chance to get close to him, which instantly made him a snob in your eyes. He probably had the personality of Narcissus himself. Always so high up his own, it made it difficult for him to get the reality check from the people down below. No matter how much your friends berated you for thinking this way, you were certain you were right.

So imagine your surprise when you were told you had been picked for a pas de deux and he was to be your partner. Surprised was a very mild word for how you really felt. Astonished, perplexed? Those two seemed more appropriate. Not only had you been picked to perform on the stage outside of your usual group but you had the famous wonder boy Jimin as your partner.

For the first few days your friends would only see and hear your excited smile and squeals. You had been waiting so long for this opportunity to come by and now you finally had the chance to prove yourself. No one even threw a second glance at the dancers in the corps du ballet. As a group, you were all there to tie in the loose ends that the soloists and main dancers could not. You were the background of a painting. Without it, the painting was incomplete, but no one observed it in detail. It was not as if you were thinking ill of your fellow dancers, but you had promised yourself and your parents when you chose ballet as your profession that you would make it big. You would stand on that stage and perform as a soloist, in the light, the piece de resistance. And so you worked hard to be noticed. Asking extra questions during lessons, making sure you did the movements perfectly. Staying after hours in the abandoned studio to practice until your feet hurt and bled,having to ice your muscles every night, going home late and heading back out early, the tears, the criticism. It didn’t matter to you. You had a dream. And now, all that hard work seemed to pay off. You would be there on that stage in the limelight.

Soon enough though, reality set in after the second meeting you had with the ballet master. You realised the pressure of not only having to be a main performer, but also standing on the stage with the pride of your school. Your demeanor instantly changed. Instead of exaltation, you were filled with dread and anxiety.

Heading to your locker,you grabbed your gym bag, ready for another hour of basic ballet techniques before you met up with your friends.

“Hey, Y/N, the artistic director is looking for you” they motioned to the general direction of where the offices were.

“After class?” you inquired and they nodded at you.

You gulp, what if they are going to pull you away from the show? You don’t let that thought fester in your head for too long because a red flower taped to your locker caught your attention.

“Oooooh, I see they’re at it again” your friend teased, lightly nudging you with their elbow. You smiled softly to yourself and gently peeled off the tape.

A red gardenia, secret love. Whoever had been harbouring these feelings for you, had been doing it for almost 3 months. They had yet to confess their feelings to you. At the beginning you thought it was a scam and scoffed at the flower, throwing it away whilst telling your friends your opinion of ‘poor jokes like these’. A few weeks after that the flowers kept coming in. You finally accepted that it was not a prank, and someone was expressing their genuine admiration and love for you, when one day along with the gardenia a note waited for your attention.

‘Please accept my feelings’ that was it, no name and no indication of who it may be. But it did make you realise that this person was real, and you instantly felt ashamed of the flowers that you had thrown away until then. Had they noticed you doing that? You hoped not. If they had come out and admitted who they were, you would’ve apologised to their face about your insensitivity.

Without responding to your friend’s playful teasing, you gently put the flower behind your ear and turned around. “Let’s get going, or we’ll be late.”

Unbeknownst to you, a couple of lockers down, a boy with hair the colour of sand smiled fondly to himself, watching your form retreat.

Adagio 1

The adagio or adage (meaning "slowly") part of a grand pas de deux features graceful and elaborate partnering by the dancing pair. In the adagio, the ballerina performs elegant, often slow and sustained movements while the danseur supports her.

“Y/N, thank you for coming to see me before class” your ballet master said, motioning for you to take a seat. “Now, I have told you about the performance, but seeing as things are settling and the performance schedule of Swan Lake will be ending soon, I need to update you on yours.” All you could do was sit in silence and nod once in a while, trying to not look like an excited mess and potentially ruin your chances. After all, a ballerina had to have poise and grace, and if you ruined that image, the role could have been handed over to someone else easily.

Shuffling some papers on her desk, she fished a thick folder out of them and stuck it out for you to take.

“Is this the full schedule for the performance?” your voice wavered, seeing the enormity of the folder reminded you of the enormity of the situation. You were about to perform as a main dancer. No more the quiet mouse dancing in the back or the even worse placement of being a backup for a performance.

“Ah, no dear, this is just the contract. As you know, you will be working with our school’s pride, Park Jimin.” You tried your hardest to keep a neutral face and not scoff at that. Of course the teacher would be shoving Park Jimin’s greatness into your face. “And because he is an international dancer, we cannot afford to have him exposed to any potential issues that may arise if anything were to happen.” Her tight lipped smile stopped you from inquiring what she thought may go wrong, so instead you resigned with a nod of your head. Your friends would listen to your rant later, there was no need to explode in your teacher’s office.

After that encounter, which ended up with you not only being insulted as a ‘minor’ figure in the school as opposed to the illustrious Jimin, but also having to lug a contract as big as a dictionary.

“Who needs a contract as big as this? Who does he think he is? International star my foot” you huffed as you struggled to carry the said atrocity and your gym bag down the hall. “I mean, international dancer but also how much trouble does he get into to need so much coverage for his ass? I get it, his ass is big enough to need a hefty contract….!”

Your friends, who’d tried to warn you beforehand of the situation you ended up up stumbling in, gasped. You were not paying attention to where you were headed and oh so ungracefully smacked your head into someone’s shoulder. “Oh, I’m sorry” not looking up, you bent down to pick the gym bag that fell off your shoulder on impact.

“It’s ok” a soft voice responded and you swear you can hear angels sing in your ear. You quickly glanced up, the gym bag long forgotten by now. You wanted to put a face to the melodious voice. And so the dream ended and the angel choir broke up. No longer apologetic, your face instantly dropped. It did not matter you have never interacted with him before and that for a first time meeting you were being incredibly rude. Not when the voice belonged to the one and only aforementioned Park Jimin.

“Oh, it’s you”

Smiling brightly at you he nodded, “it is me”.

His soft and plush features were enough to intimidate you. Not that he looked fierce, not by a long shot. It was the opposite, he looked so innocent it almost made you regret ever thinking he was a stuck up brat. Round cheeks, plump lips and eyes that reflected his bright smile, he looked handsome. His sand coloured hair and the blue contacts made him look princely handsome. And you hated it. “Are you Y/N by any chance?” you pondered whether or not you should have responded to him, but your friends made that decision for you before you could utter a word.

“Yes she is” they nudged you to say something. You shrugged, trying to look nonchalant.

“Yes, hi….” you trailed off. You were not close enough for you to be calling him by his name before he even got the chance to introduce himself properly to you. “Jimin” he filled you in, offering you his hand to shake. Having little faith in you and your ability to be polite, your friends nudged you again in a silent warning to not push his hand away. You had to admit the thought had crossed your mind for a couple of seconds, but your parents had not raised you that way. Glaring at the offered hand, you grabbed it in a firm shake.

Jimin faltered a bit, your intense grimace making him think he was an inconvenience. “Well, uh, nice to meet you” you glanced at him, catching the shy look he was giving you before letting go of your hand and stepping aside. “I will not keep you any longer, I will see you later” He hurriedly retreated to his friends, who were on the side waiting for him. You observed the scene silently for a few seconds whilst chewing on your bottom lip. Maybe he wasn’t as bad as you made him out to be. But when two of his friends laughed and patted his back in a congratulatory way, you instantly changed your mind.

Variation-Him

Upon completion of the adagio, the dancers separate and each dancer, in turn, takes center stage and performs a variation (1)

To say you had stopped thinking about the pretentious Park Jimin and the encounter you had would be a total lie. How could you, when you were meant to start practicing for your duet in a few days?

Not only that, but from someone who you’d barely see around the school, he turned into someone who would not leave your eyesight. Not by choice, though you would admit sometimes you would seek his form after hearing his laughter nearby. In your defence, he had a very light and airy voice, one that was instantly recognisable and so your traitorous eyes would be drawn to the sound.

Moreover, the way you treated him at the time, as well as the knowledge that you would be performing a pas de deux together, made it impossible for your peers not to gossip. And so, your name and his were strung together and uttered by everyone that would pass by you.

“It is becoming kind of annoying now,” you muttered angrily to your friends. They had tried their best to keep you level headed during the period but they were finding it more and more difficult to try to reason with you.

“Look Y/N, you are getting to perform on stage, with a great dancer” your friend raised their hand up and covered your mouth with it when you instantly tried to protest. “Nuh-uh, as much as you have a personal vendetta against him, you have to admit he is a great performer. This school does not pick talentless people'' you sighed, they were right. He was a good performer, but you were not ready to admit that yet. Not when that would have given him more rights to be prideful about it. Pushing your friends’ hand away, you whined, “He may be a great dancer, but that puts even more pressure on me to be good, otherwise any chance I may have had at a career as a main performer is gone!”

“Hey, you will be just fine! You got picked for a reason!” your friend tried to encourage you but you could only smile sadly at them, finding it hard to believe it. “Plus, your admirer seems to think so too” your friend smiled smugly at you.

Rolling your eyes at them you scoffed, “what, am I supposed to believe the words of someone who can’t even come out clean with who they are? All I know is that they could be someone who has no clue what they are talking about. I mean, they are confessing their love for me. I wouldn’t call that good taste.”

“Maybe you should,” the voice you had come to know very well over the past few weeks spoke from behind you. Confusedly, you turn around “huh?” did he happen to know something about it? Could it be him? Giving you a once over, Jimin cleared his throat. “Maybe you should, you know, hurry up. Our first practice starts in less than 10 minutes. Don’t know about you, but I would like to warm up before anything” his soft smile faltered when you glared at him. You couldn’t help it, spending so much time hating a made up version of him in your head made it impossible for you to warm up to the real version. And his last comment did grate your nerves, was he implying that you weren’t able to manage your time effectively?

You didn’t miss the slight hurt in his eyes as he passed by you, and against your better judgement your heart twinged. Saying a quick goodbye to your friends, you rushed down the corridor to catch up to him.

“Hey, Jimin” he didn’t stop. Not because he couldn’t hear you, but because the slightly panicked look on his face was not something he wanted you to witness. He had almost given himself away, but he couldn’t stand hearing you talk about his admiration and yourself in that way anymore. He tried to play it off as reminding you of the time, but then you gave him that look, a look that told him you really did not want anything to do with him. At that thought, he felt his heart drop to his stomach faster than he could say pas de chat.

“Jimin wait” he did not want to wait, but he listened to you. Why? Because even if you seemed to hate him with a passion, he would do anything for you.

You thought you had not met before, and in a way Jimin supposed you hadn’t. Not in person at least. But he was there when you had your performance for the entrance exam. To say he was entranced from the very beginning was an understatement. His eyes didn’t leave your form. Every pirouette, every arabesque, glissade, plie... you moved like silk in the wind: smooth, seamless, weightless. When your performance was finished, his heart felt weightless and completely enamoured.

He tried to talk to you after, but you disappeared as quickly as you had done your jete. All he was left with was your name from the application form and the hope that you would succeed in entering so he could see you again.

Bringing himself back to the present, he didn’t turn to face you, and you could not bring yourself to apologise, as the words got stuck in your throat. Instead, you walked a few steps ahead of him and stopped. Doing a silly turn on pointe you gave him an unsure smile, “you coming?”

Variation-Her

In general, the variations are intended to showcase spectacular, acrobatic leaps and turns, as well as the skills and athleticism of the individual dancers.

“Now, Y/N, what did I tell you? This has to be all allegro! Quick, quick, quick!” Your director clapped his hands as if to make a point of what quick meant. You nodded, your breath coming out in heavy pants. Having been practicing all the brisees and pas de chat for a good four hours, you were already tired. Your limbs felt like they were made of lead and your breath came out in shallow rasps.

“Once more” You bit your lip as you tried not to glare at them. You barely got a break and it was just the first week. You had a lot more weeks to perfect it. Indeed, it was not perfect and your insistence on not being closer to Jimin during the partnered moves made it even more awkward. The dance was just not flowing as it should have. Flower Festival in Genzano was a classical pas de deux performance, with rapt moves expressing the happiness and flirtation between two young lovers.

Yours portrayed more of a tragedy between two lovers than the blossoming of love between them. Your movements were adagio instead of alegro, and the swiftness of the intended movements were rough and unsure. Frustrated couldn’t even begin to explain how you were feeling.

Jimin, had yet to utter a word during this time , and in a way you were grateful. You didn’t think you could stand it if he’d opened his mouth to boast about his skills. His moves were graceful, quick, resembling a lark hopping through the grass. He had a lightness of movement that made you realise why he was called the wonder boy of the school. Looking as if he was as light as a feather, he breezed through his variation with ease.

“Y/N, come on, up up up!” the director clapped their hands impatiently. “Your variation from the beginning” gesturing you to get off the floor they restarted the musical accompaniment. Huffing in distress you quickly got on your feet, a sharp pain shooting up your calf. Grimacing you tried to get into position, but with the music being way ahead of your start you fumbled around to get into the right position. It only took a wrong turn of your ankle during a quicker brise for your whole leg to cramp causing you to fall into a heap on the floor.

“What are you doing? Up! From the beginning, you can’t be lazing around. Look at Jimin, he’s done his perfectly. You can’t be sullying his name like this.” Trying your hardest to hide the tears of pain and humiliation out of your eyes, you slowly got on your knees in an attempt to get off the floor.

“Uhm, maybe it would be better if we took a small break?” for the first time since you’ve started Jimin spoke up. Shooting him a stubborn scowl you pushed yourself up with great effort. Stumbling a bit from the pain in your leg you refused to give up. “No, I can do this”

“Y/N, look at you” he slowly approached you as if you were going to strike like an injured animal. And maybe that is how he viewed you. Weak and easily hurt by your lack of talent and professionalism. Before you could retort, the artistic director abruptly stopped the music.

“Yes, Y/N, look at you. You’re stiff and uncoordinated. You’re making the proverbial bull in a chinashop look like a ballerina. How can I let you perform next to Jimin? He’s an international star and he has a reputation to maintain. You’re doing your best to sully that” hurtful tears started pooling in your eyes. Maybe you should just withdraw now. Clearly, no one thought you were good enough. As if to confirm your unspoken thoughts, they carried on, “you were not my first choice by any chance. But you were asked for, specifically, so I had to comply. Please don’t treat this like you do with the corps du ballet.”

You tried your best to reign in your tears, you could not expose your feelings like that. One wrong move and they could’ve removed you from the performance.

“Sir, I think it is best we stop here for the day” Jimin suggested. Who was he to ask for such a thing? How dare he ask the artistic director to stop for the day, as if they would listen to him. “I, uh, forgot i have another meeting in half an hour and it’s best if I don’t miss it” you glanced at the two, a heavy feeling settling into your stomach when you observed the change in the director’s demeanour. Grovelling, he assured Jimin that you’d stop there for the day, flourishing his respect and admiration for how hardworking he was. With a last disappointed glance at you and a scoff, they exited the studio.

It was just you and Jimin left, the silence deafening. Pretending to be busy with tying your pointe shoes, you refused to glance at him. You felt disgraced and belittled. Even though you were aware that Jimin had said nothing against you or your performance, you couldn’t help but channel all your hurt into your behaviour towards him.

“You ok? You should go get that checked” finally gathering the courage to address you, Jimin crouched down to have a look at your leg. You retracted it instantly before his hand could touch you.

“I’m fine, don’t be late for your meeting” you snapped at him.

He observed you in silence for a few moments, and you didn’t know if it was the look on his face which screamed pity to you, his concern for your wellbeing, or the humiliation that you have faced because of him, but your anger levels increased exponentially.

“Look, you don’t need to pity me, I’m fine, just go and show the world your greatness and stop bothering with the likes of me” you huffed. “I’m clearly not good enough and need to improve” your voice softened. You knew you were angry at yourself and not at him. He’d been nothing but kind to you from the first moment you have spoken. Maybe that was why you were taking it all out on him. He was always close to perfect. And it irked you.

“I’m not pitying you. In fact, I admire you a lot.” His confession made you snap out of your thoughts and look at him in disbelief. His cheeks were tinted red and you couldn’t help but think of how cute he looked when he was bashful like that.

“You don’t mean that,” you whispered. “Why would you mean that?”

The silence that ensued, along with the uncertain look on his face, made you think that he would finally admit his joke and tell you that he didn’t mean it. He was him, and you were you. The thought made your heart ache.

“Why do you hate me so much?” he finally asked, and you were once again taken aback, not expecting the change in subject.

“I— don’t. You irritate me, but I don’t hate you,” at your words his expression instantly changed to confusion and a slither of hurt flashed across his face. You hurried to explain yourself, “look you are perfect, everyone clearly loves you, you are nice and everyone flocks around you like bees to honey. And it annoys me. But that is my shortcoming, and not your fault so forget I said that” you sat up quickly, the pain in your leg making it difficult. But a warm hand grabbed your forearm. You wanted to shake it off since you did not want his help, but the heat and support it provided was exactly what you needed. And in that moment you realised that, just like everyone else, you had fallen for him and his charms. He was definitely not what you wanted. What you wanted was to be able to perform to the best of your abilities, to stand on that stage proudly next to him. But what you actually needed was him, his soft words, and his sweet gestures that somehow managed to lift you up and nurse your pride, if only by a bit.

With that realisation, fear and determination gripped your heart. “You should go to your meeting” you nod towards the door. “I’ll be fine” seeing that he was prepared to protest, you added quietly, “please, I would like to be alone right now.”

With a heavy heart, Jimin let go of your arm and retracted slowly. Your words hurt, but they also gave him hope that he may actually stand a chance at becoming your rock. And for now that was all he wanted from you.

“Please rest and get that checked” He said, before he turned around and looked at you wistfully one last time, “I don’t really have a meeting to go to, but i will leave if you want me to”

His exit was swift and graceful, but his heart was heavy and uncertain. How could he make it better for you? How could he convince you to trust in your skills more? Suddenly, he got an idea and he prayed that it would work. It was a shot in the dark, but it was the only one he had.

Adagio 2

A few days after that, you were by your locker once again, with a red gardenia in your hands. With a letter grasped between your fingers, you decided you would read it later as you saw your partner approaching. You hadn’t practiced together since that day, left on your own with the artistic director to practice your variation. The first time you entered the studio and realised that Jimin would not be joining you had made you nervous.

As much as you’d tried to ignore it, it strengthened the realisation that you did need him. In such a short amount of time, he made it so that you saw him as comfort and protection. His soft demeanour and worried glances melted your resolve to loathe him. You were ready to admit you were wrong about him, but you did not get the chance to until now.

Approaching you, he smiled unsurely. You looked a lot better and a lot more rested. He only hoped that having a separate chat with the artistic director gave you a small break in his absence. Sparing a short glance at the flower and letter in your hand he tried his best to hide his smile. Instead he motioned to it as nonchalantly as he could, “Secret admirer?”

With the flower in your hand, forgotten at the sight of him, you quickly rushed to hide it behind your back. “Uhm, none of your business” your cheeks were dusted in pink, making him smile at you fully, his eyes crinkling in amusement. “You ready for today? We’re practicing the duet together”

“Ah, so you will be part of this one then?” You tried to make it seem like you didn’t care as to where he had disappeared in the last few days as you subtly prodded him for more information. Quickly catching onto your scheme, he smirked.

“Did you miss me?”

You scoffed, “Not by a long shot wonder boy. Let's go or we’ll be late, don’t know about you but I would like to warm up first” You turned around and started walking away from him, completely missing the lovestruck Jimin you left in your wake.

“Huh” he whispered to himself. You'd rendered him speechless once again.

Hours of practice later, everything went down better than the first time you’d worked together, as you had all the movements down to a ‘T’. Unfortunately, you were so focused on getting the technicalities right that you forgot about the freedom of the movement that went with the dance. You were stiff once again, and lacked the passion that the female lead should portray.

“No, no, no, Y/N. Once more from the top” the artistic director shooks their head in disapproval. You could feel frustration bubbling up threatening to spill in the form of tears once again. Before that could happen, Jimin instantly called for a small break, under the excuse that he needed to readjust his pointe shoes. He motioned for you to sit down next to him, and you shakily and reluctantly took a seat next to him on the floor. You couldn’t even look at him, let alone address him. Once again doubt started creeping in your thoughts.

“You need to relax more. Feel the steps, don’t think the steps” he whispered to you. Without giving you a chance to respond, he quickly got up and the artistic director immediately rushed to start the music again. You had no choice but to get into position, his words still swimming inside your mind. Feel the steps.

You tried, you swore you did. But somehow, it wasn’t working. By the time it got to the adagio, which was less slow and more of a petite allegro, with smaller and quicker movements, you were ready to give up. You felt as though you were made of wood. When it came to the partnered planche, all you did was stiffly raise your left leg to the back with your arms behind you, waiting for Jimin to grab them.

Improvising, he gripped you from the waist to support your planche, instead of grabbing just your hands from behind your back. He brought himself as close to you as he could, his warmth enveloping all of your senses. Luckily this planche was on flat— your foot planted firmly on the ground, rather than on pointe—otherwise you would’ve lost your footing and toppled over on the floor. He smelled good. Funnily enough, he smelled like gardenias in the warmth of the sun. For a second you couldn’t breathe, forgetting entirely where you were. All you could focus on was his gentle grip on your waist and his breath in your ear as he whispered, “focus on me”

As if he’d muttered a magic word, your guard fell down. All your insecurities melted away at his touch. Your brain was filled with the thought of him and as soon as you came down to pirouette in his arms, he was all you could see. Today he wasn’t wearing contacts, offering you an unobstructed view into his chocolate coloured eyes. His smile was soft and encouraging and his hands around you were strong and supportive. He was silently attempting to tell you that he had you, that you could trust him. There was something else hidden there deep in his eyes, however. As you stared at him for a second longer, trying to decipher what it was, something in you shifted. But the next move didn’t wait for either of you, so you quickly moved away from his arms and into the next position.

This time though, things were different. You feltl it in your movements. The uncertainty and stiffness was long gone. You both moved as one, even with your individual variations, you both came back together as if an unknown string was connecting the two of you.

As the end of the last note on the track rang out into the studio, so did the dream of two young lovers. Both you and Jimin finished returning to the first position in tandem, as if you were one. The two of you panted for different reasons. You, from the effort and the thrill of the closeness that you’ve both experienced. Him from performing without breathing, as his heart threatened to burst at having you so close to him. The performance gave him a snippet of what it would be like for him to be your real lover. And it was intoxicating.

The satisfied smile that the director gave you told you that you’d done it. You finally let go, and it was all thanks to Jimin. Excitedly, you turned your head to beam at him. The admiration in his eyes caused warmth to pool in your stomach. You finally saw the invisible string that tied you both together during the duet. It was affection.

Coda

A Coda is a classical ballet term that refers to the finale of a group of dancers and more often, the finale of a pas de deux.

No one spoke of what had transpired between you and Jimin that day. Completely ignoring your admittance, as well as his confession, you tried your best to act professionally. Practicing both together and apart made the days blend together. In that time you attempted to ignore the feelings that were threatening your performance (and your sanity). There was no time for any of that. You had a dream and this was your only chance to grasp it.

For weeks on end, all you did was practice, completely missing out on sleep and any social activities that your friends partook in. You avoided any social interaction that stepped over the small ‘Talk’ line. And you most definitely avoided your partner outside of your practice sessions. Whenever you would see him come from the opposite end of the corridor, you would quickly turn around and pretend you were looking for something in your gym bag. Sometimes, if you were lucky enough, you’d quickly veer to go towards the toilets. You made sure that there was no chance for the two of you to speak outside of the performance, afraid that you would blurt something out that you’d have rather kept to yourself.

The only interaction you had, if you could call it that, was with your secret admirer. And by interaction, you meant smiling at the flower he’d tape to your locker. Oddly though, for the past few weeks they would leave little notes taped next to the flower. From encouraging messages such as ‘You can do it’ to longer ones that spoke highly of your performances and your capability as a dancer. They were never consistent in length or content, but were always signed off the same way: ‘Forever yours, your secret admirer’

Weeks had passed, and with each day your confidence grew alongside your feelings for your partner. Even with little verbal interaction between the two of you, you were dancers. You did not need words to convey messages, and you certainly didn’t need words to convey feelings. Each time you would reach the finale of the dance you were breathless and dazed, craving for more.

More had to wait though. This was it, the first day of the show. You were nervous to say the least, but having worked so hard, day and night, and with the knowledge that no matter what Jimin was there to support you, you were as ready as you’d ever be.

Thinking about it, from someone you thought was a narcissist to someone you’d viewed as a rock, Jimin had managed to ground you and lift you up at the same time. You’d fallen so hard and fast for him, that you didn't even know what hit you. However, at the thought that there was still a secret admirer that had silently cheered you on, and the fact that Jimin was still a more professional dancer than you were, he probably made each one of his partners fall for him quickly. That was enough to dampen the fire in your heart. You would carry on with this performance and prove yourself to everyone. Prove that you deserved a spot on that stage as a main dancer. Show everyone that you deserved the spot standing next to Jimin, even if it was only as his dance partner.

“Hey, Y/N” your friends greeted as you were putting on the make up for the performance. “Are you nervous?” One of them asked as they all crowded around you.

Laughing, another one of your friends responded, “why would she? I bet she’s smug, now that she’s been favoured by the top star of our school. She clearly caught his eye from the beginning if she’s been personally requested by him” your friends' words left you confused, so you turned around to face them.

“What do you mean?”

They looked at each other warily. “You mean you haven’t heard?” They asked you and you shook your head, left even more confused. “The other day someone heard the artistic director discussing how they didn’t think that you’d pull through, but you did and that Jimin was correct in requesting you as his partner for the performance. Apparently…” they would have said more if not for the appearance of said man at your door. Quickly they wished you good luck and exited the room leaving the two of you alone. He looked dashing in his white shirt and tights. The shirt was made of a silky material to allow freedom of movement and the top buttons were undone, exposing his defined collarbones and the white of his skin. It was tantalizing enough to make you swallow thickly.

However, the words of your friends still buzzed in your head, and you didn’t have the time to ask him if it was true. You were both hurried by your ballet master towards the entrance to the stage. It was time.

In the last few minutes before you were supposed to exit and show the world what both of you had worked for, you expected to be nervous, yet you felt strangely calm. Taking advantage of the stillness around you, you stole a glance to your right. Jimin looked tense, more tense than you had seen him before, and you couldn’t help but wonder if it was because of the performance or because he suspected what you were about to ask him.

“Is it true?” You whispered, not holding back. You needed one last piece of information before the puzzle was complete. And you wanted him to freely offer you that piece.

His jaw muscles twitched, and you could see his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallowed. The silence between you two was even more deafening. It was as if the dancers that pitter-pattered around you, or the people chatting in the audience, did not reach the bubble around the two of you. The string that connected the two of you before, was shortening in length until there were mere inches between you two.

“You made it up to this stage on your own” He whispered, “There is nothing else bringing you up here but yourself. You may think I’m irritating, but in reality, you hate me.” He prevented you from responding by grabbing your hand. His hands were warm, while yours were clammy. “You can’t say hateful things about yourself and claim that you don’t hate me. If you hate yourself, you hate me. If you belittle yourself, you belittle me. So please don’t do that anymore. If you care even a little…” He didn’t continue, he couldn’t. He was on the verge of tears. You could hear it in his voice.

What he implied didn’t go unnoticed by you, and you were more than ready to surrender. But you needed one more thing. “And the flowers?”

Instead of offering you a straight up response he raises his right hand, the one that was hidden from you until now.

You let out a short breath. The puzzle was complete. In his hand stood a lone red gardenia. His secret love.

Well, not so secret anymore.

“Do you trust me?” He asked with a smile.

Smiling back at him with all the love you could muster, you intertwined your fingers together.

“Yes, yes I do.”

Main Masterlist

#jimin fic #bts fic #jimin fluff #bangtansummerbingo #btshoneyhive #btswritingbingo #bts scenarios #dancer jimin #photo #ballet #flowers #ballet fic #bangtan #bts x reader #jimin x y/n #jimin x reader #fluff #thank you for reading #i write because i enjoy it but i cry everytime #fic #fyp

[dennou-translations]

Violet Evergarden: Booklet 2

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I wanted that star. I wanted to be the person who would piece through that star.

   Leon Stephanotis and the First Star

   I had once seen a comet that only came around every two hundred years together with a girl.

It had happened years ago. That was one beautiful evening. Even now, I can still vividly recall the twinkling of the stars we watched on that day while our bodies shivered at the coldness of the nightly wind. Like jewels scattered over a dark canopy, the starry sky was enough to make one forget to even breathe. As it passed by, dragging its white tail, the meteor looked just like a fairy in flight with insect scales scattering about from her wings.

Whenever I looked at a beautiful night sky, I would think many times over, “Aah, now that I’ve branded this moment into my heart, I’d have no regrets if someone reaped my life away”. Should I lose my life, I wanted it to be on a starry night like that. I wanted to die with the memory of witnessing something stunning.

“May the night sky be a beautiful starry one on the day I die,” I wished.

But that one evening was a little bit different. Maybe because I had someone to watch the stars with me. Maybe because that was my first love.

She was a gorgeous person. Even more than the stars. Her hair looked like the Sun when shining under the moonlight and her blue eyes were like gemstones created from a mix of the sea and the sky. With her porcelain skin and skylark voice, the way she walked was just as that of a well-cared maiden. In reality, she was an orphaned ex-soldier, as well as an Auto-Memories Doll from a far-away southern country, so the saying “don’t judge a book by its cover” was pertinent when it came to her.

She was most likely an once-in-a-lifetime kind of person, one that you couldn’t know if you would ever get to meet.

My chest throbbed even at the sigh that leaked from her when she was peeking at the telescope. When she looked my way and smiled faintly, I experienced an impact as if I had been hit in the head, giving in to a love that made me feel like my whole body would melt and crumble down.

“Master, astronomical observations are quite a wonderful thing.”

If, by any chance, my body were to be crushed by a star in that moment, only on that day did I want to keep looking at something, even if for just one second more. I wanted to keep looking at her. Forever and ever, I wished. That was what I thought.

This encounter had changed my life and decided my fate. I didn’t mind if people laughed at that, calling me a romanticist. I, Leon Stephanotis, whose destiny had been altered, would always look back on it.

On the day that I had watched the stars with Violet Evergarden.

   “There was a sea of gold in his land” – who was it again that had sung the praises of a desert like this?

“I’m beat.”

When bookworms read too much, their head’s capacity would exceed the limit, so they would automatically forget the things they had read in their early phases. I had confidence in my memorization abilities and yet I couldn’t remember this, so it was surely a passage from an adventure novel or something of the sort that I had read in my childhood.

——What a beautiful comparison.

When I actually stood in the middle of a desert, my impressions were drawn to the temperatures, sunlight and other such things regarding the environment instead, so this poetic expression hadn’t crossed my mind. In the destinations of my travels, I often reminisced to a certain someone who was somewhere in this world, as well as the things she, who spoke words as beautiful as that, used to say, as if borrowing them.

“So pretty...”

I liked the color of gold. I could observe the grains of sand moving smoothly for all eternity.

“Everyone, you did well; the books we excavated will be brought back by another group. Meaning that we from the starting line-up are finally off for the first time in months.”

As I was spacing out, I didn’t hear the commander’s words very well. I was only staring at the ground, missing out on everything. When I raised my head, the happy-looking faces of my bearded and somewhat dirty colleagues entered my eyes. All I understood right away was that we would get a vacation.

“After we get twenty days off, we’ll regroup in Iustitia, at Shaher’s headquarters. After that, we’ll go to that place in the south where the reconnaissance team was sent. Next will be our turn to bring back the luggage. Don’t let your bodies get weak.”

“Roger that.” Once everybody gave an agreeable reply in unison, we disbanded from the spot.

Iustitia, Shaher’s headquarters. The main office of my occupation. I was previously in a section called the codex department, devotedly working on the deciphering of documents and copying manuscripts, but now I had been transferred to a completely different section. It sounded good when we were called the leading actors, but it was actually a group of reeking adventure rascals, the literature collecting department.

I put my heavy baggage sack on the ground and heaved a breath. Wiping the white folk clothes that I had been provided with on-site, I dusted the sand off them. This clothing called dola – a long robe secured by a waist belt – looked flappy and inflexible at first glance, but it was surprisingly easy to move around in. It was made of a rather velvety silk material, so there would normally not be so much sand sticking to it, but since I was caught in a sandstorm until just a moment ago, there was no helping it.

We had returned from a thorough search in the ruins of an abandoned castle, once the dominion of a royal clan whose name was eminent in the past. A book burning movement had taken place in this land at a certain point, but we had received information that a scholar from those times, out of fear towards the situation, had hidden valuable books in the forsaken palace. The information was apparently right, so after wandering around all over the deserted castle, we had found dozens of books. The books that would be taken to Shaher’s headquarters were to be made into written copies and spread to the world.

Made for protection purposes, Shaher’s literature collection was also well-reputed in other countries. It was difficult to negotiate with the locals responsible for the abandoned castle, but we were allowed entrance this time as well thanks to our achievements thus far. Just like that, someone’s story, studies and feelings, which were supposed to have disappeared, would breathe once again. The books we had been looking for would be delivered to other people and comfort them during long nights.

——What a wonderful thing.

The working environment was awful, but I was proud of my job.

I sat down on my luggage and gazed at the cityscape while drinking water from my canteen. In this desert-zone city, everyone’s clothes seemed harmonized no matter what color they wore.

“Senior Leon, what will you do on your days off?”

As a junior who had not yet left the spot called to me, I furrowed my brows and looked at his face. He was a young man of masculine facial traits, which was enviable to someone as baby-faced as me.

“Hey, Sir.”

A rarity amongst the members of our unit, the man had not been born in Iustitia. If I wasn’t mistaken, he was a rich kid who had been born in a southern country and entered Shaher through connections with the foundation executives.

Getting a job at the Shaher Observatory was a daunting task even for those who had studied astronomy. It was hard to make it without learning in a good environment from an early age. Since Iustitia, the capital of stargazing, was the best place to study in, it was natural that the ones hired were mostly the locals.

——Well, this guy had connections, so this has nothing to do with him.

I pondered an answer. “Nothing in particular.” For the time being, I decided to be cold, acting as nonchalant as ever.

And this was also the same as always, but the junior took no offense in my crude response – rather, he laughed at me, looking happy. “Then that means you’ve got no plans. I was thinking of going home. If you’d like, how about we go together? We have a villa by the lake... If I go now, the schedule will allow my family to join in.”

“No, why do I—”

“Last time we had a break, I told my little sisters about your cool adventure story and they wouldn’t shut up about how much they wanted to meet you. Hey, hey, how about it?”

I was baffled. I had no idea what was good about me to this junior but he would oddly flock to me. The reason why I hadn’t told him about my plans right away was that I felt he would follow me if I did so. Honestly, he was a bother. Up to now, we had acted as a group. I wanted to be alone even if a second sooner.

“I’m not going.”

“No way... My family’s all pretty boys and girls! Sir, you like beautiful things, don’t you?”

“Do they look like you?”

“They do.”

“Then they might be pretty, but won’t be my type.”

“Sir! You’re horrible!”

“So loud. If your family’s waiting for you, hurry and go.”

While I gestured with my hand as if shooing a dog, the junior made a puppy-like sad face. Even though he had a big body, he was amicable and his display of emotions was richer than most people, making him look all the more like a dog.

“Then, if you ever feel like coming to see me during your break...”

“I won’t.”

“...could you contact a hotel called Varona in Leidenschaftlich?”

“I won... uh?”

“It’s a first-class accommodation establishment. It’s under my uncle’s administration, so you can get a stay there immediately, and I can pick you up as soon as you give me my name. Oh, you’re making an interested face, huh? Want to come with me right now?”

What piqued my interest was the word “Leidenschaftlich” – that was all.

——That’s where the CH Postal Company is.

And it was also where my first love worked at.

“You were from Leidenschaftlich...?”

“That’s right. I did say it in my self-introduction when I joined the department.”

“Well, I don’t listen to people I have no interest in...”

As expected, my junior gave a happy-looking smile with his whole face. “Sir, I like that you’re equally unfriendly to everyone. People only got close to me because of my title... and my family’s social standing... but Sir, you’re cold, and that feels nice.”

“Your suffocating actions are a pain in the ass to me. Besides, hum...”

“What is it, Sir?”

“Hum, say... is the CH Postal Company well-known?”

“Do you know Violet Evergarden?” – the reason why I couldn’t ask this was a literal embodiment of how much I lacked guts, I thought.

With an “aah”, my junior immediately made a face like the name rang a bell. “I know them. It’s the company of that businessman, Claudia Hodgins, right? They’re popular. Shocking that the name of a company would come from you.”

“I’m an adult, after all. I’d know the name of one or two renowned businesses at least.”

“That’s a lie, ain’t it? I already know you don’t have interest in anything but stars. Erm... if I’m not wrong, all the postal companies of Leiden got sucked into it. They also succeeded in company split-ups. Their president is a celebrity too. The newspaper series where he talks to other entrepreneurs is a trend... It got adapted into a book just recently. There’s a chapter in the extra edition where he talks to his secretary and the president of an affiliated company, and it’s so fun. The book’s in my room at the headquarters, so you can take it with you and read it all you want.”

“Is there nothing about business in that book? Like, about the Auto-Memories Doll field... Hum, according to my research, there should be a rather famous Auto-Memories Doll in it... Don’t know if she’s still there, though.”

I timidly attempted to ask, yet it seemed my junior didn’t know the details. That was expected. The number of people who could hire Auto-Memories Dolls was limited, so hardly anybody would know even the name of a famed Doll unless it was someone marginally acquainted with them.

“I wonder. I do sorta know that they apparently have one real beauty of a Doll. But I also have a good-looking face... so I don’t yield to beauties from here and there.”

“Got it. Thanks for the info. And for the nice conversation. Go home.”

“Sir...! If you get bored of being alone, please remember me!”

Leaving behind my clingy junior, I took off from that place. I strutted with a hand in my pocket.

My junior wasn’t a bad guy. He had a high-handed personality but fit into the category of good person. He must have talked to me like that because he knew about my background as an orphan who had lost his parents and got a job at the astronomical observatory by way of assistance from Shaher. Meaning he was worried about his senior, who would be spending his vacation alone with no lover or family. The reason why he had invited me to a house where his family would be was probably that he was exposing his intentions in his own way.

——But to hell with that.

I wanted to be alone. To say that the people who thought I was pitiful were the actual pitiful ones was my essence. I had always enjoyed watching the stars by myself anyway, and I enjoyed books about stars too. Book reading wasn’t meant to be done with two people, right? I liked being alone. This was also because I had lived a life of accepting solitude for a long time, but if anything, it was harder for me to settle down when I was in someone’s company.

When I turned the street corner and confirmed that he finally wasn’t following me anymore, I let out a relieved sigh.

——Alone at last. Time and space just for me.

The times when I was by myself like this were the ones I felt most comfortable in, and while I did have some things to reflect upon in that regard, unfortunately, I didn’t have a family to pester me about having children, unlike the rest of society. Because I was alone.

——I get that it isn’t a good thing.

There were things that you couldn’t get used to or change, despite understanding why you should. I was equal parts as obstinate as I felt inferior to those who had families. Only one person had ever made me want to be with her for a little longer when I was in her company.

——Only one.

Our circumstances were similar and we were also alike in that we were burdened with loneliness, but it wasn’t as if I liked her because of the similarity. It was because she seemed like she would be all right even if she were on her own, so I had wished to stay by her side. To get close to her. I “liked” her in that way. It wasn’t as if I wanted her to do something for me. I was the one who wanted to do something for her. It was that kind of “like”.

It had happened a long time ago.

After we had spent a little time together, she left. When we were bidding our farewells, I stopped her and confessed.

“Violet.”

I told her I was in love with her. I didn’t ask her, “I like you, so what do you wanna do?” – I simply told her I liked her.

“I’m... I’m... in the codex department now, but... I actually wanted to be in the literature collecting department like my father.”

She gave me this answer: the way that she cherished me was different.

“I had my hopes up that maybe my mother would come home one day if I waited here, bringing my father back with her... so I kept shutting myself in until this age, without ever stepping off into the outside world. That was possible in this place and I wanted it myself. But... just now...”

But if we ever happened to meet again, she wanted to spend time with me.

“I’ve just made up my mind. I’ll go around the world like you.”

In that moment, the woman who had said that she couldn’t feel emotions...

“I might face danger. I might lose my life without anyone ever finding my body, just like my parents. But—But that’s okay. I’m thinking of choosing that path.”

...smiled at me like a normal girl, looking happy, and told me something.

“If I do that, I’m sure we might get to meet someday, somewhere, under a starry sky. We’re both gypsies. And if that happens, will you...”

——...watch the stars with me again?

“Yes, Master.”

She told me that. She said it. This alone was already enough for me. This alone gave me the courage to come out of the world that I had been secluding myself in. Even if my love wasn’t requited, even if we never saw each other again, I was so happy.

She.

Violet.

Violet Evergarden.

Just that – just the fact that she had promised to watch the stars with me – had made me happy to the point of changing my life.

I kept making transfer requests ever since that day, finally earned approval and ventured myself into the outside world. The world other than Iustitia that I saw for the first time was bustling with a dizzying variety of things, which made me regret secluding myself. But surely, if I hadn’t met her, I would have taken a lot longer to go outside. No, I might have never left that bird cage to begin with.

That environment where I was allowed to wallow was terribly indulgent. After all, everyone was awfully nice to me for not being able to stand up, just because I was sad.

I didn’t simply think that I would definitely get to see her at least once. The probability of an astronomer and an Auto-Memories Doll, who had spent time together at work, meeting even once was surely the same as the meteor we had seen that day – once every two hundred years.

I was being ridiculous. If I really wanted to see her, I should just go visit her postal company in Leiden. The reason why I didn’t do it was that I was scared. That maybe her words were just out of friendliness, and that, if we did meet, she wouldn’t even remember me and I would be rejected. On top of being terrified of this, I also had a dream.

That if we ever happened to reunite, I wanted us to meet again truly by coincidence, under a starry sky.

If something like that really were to happen, just what would I do? Would I smile? Cry? Or ask for her love again?

I nodded at a passerby who had almost collided with me and started walking again. I had no particular destination. I could also go back to the headquarters just like this and be an idle bookworm in my own room, but going sightseeing around this city for at least a little bit was also good.

——I won’t get to see Violet if I stay in that place.

I had no free time to spend money, so I could afford the luxury of staying at a remotely nice hotel. Having made up my mind, I went into the main street and began looking for accommodation in the desert capital.

   Local idioms were honestly my weak point. Even though it was a common language, it was hard to catch because of the many dialects. When I talked to elders, I was done for.

However, I could perfectly understand that the inn’s owner, an old gentleman, had treated me like a “young lady”. Of course, I told him he was mistaken, but he didn’t hear it. He led me to my room with a hand around my hips.

The room was quite a high-class one, so I let it slide. If it were my old self, I would have been as furious as a raging fire. But I had grown up. By holding back my anger, I would manage to spend the night in a proper bed, where it didn’t seem like bugs would show up, so becoming an adult was for the best. Even if my self-respect decreased a little.

While I was chilling in the room and writing my diary, the sun went down in a blink of eye and it was getting late into the evening.

   “Heave-ho.”

It was the dead of night. I put on warm clothes and prepared myself to go out.

I wanted to observe the desert’s starry sky at my own leisure. As our activities had been limited to daytime ever since we had arrived here, I was now finally getting to do the things that I actually felt like doing. I had watched it together with everyone else from the windows of the cheap inn that the literature collecting department’s personnel had stayed at, but as expected, I wanted to see it from a spacious place with no noise or anything of the sort. As a scholar born in the so-called “capital of stargazing”, I obviously was going to have my fill of the desert’s night sky.

Unable to contain my feelings of excitement, I left the room after my lips relaxed a bit. For the heck of it, I greeted the innkeeper and told him I was going to see the stars. When I did so, he made a worried-looking face.

Apparently, women were forbidden of wandering outside at night in these lands. He couldn’t stop me from going out since I wasn’t a local, but warned me not to get too close to men. It wasn’t as if there were many ruffians among the people who walked around at night, but simply that this city had this kind of culture, so if the men suddenly spotted a woman, they might think badly of it. I had grown up in a men’s dormitory watching a bunch of idiots, so I understood what he was trying to say.

I showed him the retractable cane I was holding, and while I was at it, I also demonstrated with one swing that a blade came out from the tip as well. It was not for killing anyone, but it sufficed for making the other party recoil and holding them back.

Receiving the innkeeper’s applause from behind, I ventured myself outside.

The temperature gaps between nighttime and daytime was extreme in the desert. Having been raised in a mountaintop astronomical observatory, I was used to areas where there was a discrepancy in temperatures between day and night, but even then, I could bring myself to deem it as comfortable due to differences in humidity. The instant I stepped outside, I shuddered with a “brr”.

However, I forgot the cold as soon as I saw the sight spreading overhead. Surely, God must have dropped His jewel box. The starry sky unfolded in a way that made even someone like me come up with such a poetic saying.

Due to the fact that it was nighttime, there were few people out, but it wasn’t as if nobody was wandering about the city. Just as the innkeeper had said, it seemed that someone with a womanly appearance (I wasn’t a woman at all, though) walking around did catch people’s eyes, as they called to me countless times. I put myself on guard in each of those instances, and everyone withdrew with the same caution as the innkeeper.

Not letting the women walk around late at night was also meant for protecting them.

I had heard that there was a place for stargazing aimed at tourists somewhere a little far from the city, so I headed there, for safety as well. Several tents were erected around the sparse green area. In addition to privately built tents, there were also merchant tents selling drinks and food.

After looking through the signboards with the prices of the alcohol and warm soups that people of this region consumed and were familiar with, I picked the alcohol. I was an adult now and on vacation, so I told myself that it was okay to drink today and gave myself permission.

I went for a cloudy-colored alcoholic drink simmered in a large pot called the witch’s cauldron. It was warm and sweet, with a slightly spicy aftertaste. It warmed your body when you drank it and was the best delicacy to savor in cold weather.

Some people invited me to enter their tents, but I refused and steadily began setting up by arranging the astronomical observation tools that I had prepared. I assembled a demountable astronomical telescope over the sheets.

Even though this was said to be a place for stargazing, not everyone seemed to be astronomy freaks like in Iustitia – most of them were lying on the ground, enjoying a conversation with their companions while relishing in the jewels of the night. Everyone other than myself had simple handheld telescopes, so a few locals started appearing fussily around me, looking greatly interested. If anything, there weren’t just tourists.

A young father who had a child with him shyly came to ask me, “How much is it for you to let us take a look?” Apparently, he had mistaken me for a merchant.

“I don’t take money for it. It’s something for me to enjoy myself.”

The young parent made a bewildered face at my blunt reply, but nervously stepped in front of the kid and said, “It’s okay even if it’s just for a little bit, couldn’t you let this child take a peek?”

“Sure, it’s fine.”

He was also surprised at my ready consent. As he asked one more time if I really wasn’t going to charge for it, I declared that I wasn’t, swearing by this land’s god.

I beckoned the child. Our heights didn’t match since he was too small, so I lifted him by the hips.

“Can you see them?”

“Just a tad higher.”

“This much?”

“Amaziiing.”

At the child’s delighted look, the father and I locked eyes with each other and laughed. Then, other people who had been surrounding us at a distance came over one after another, asking me to let them see next. Whenever I said that I wasn’t charging any fee, they would ask me back, “Are you a saint or what?”.

In a land where you could see such beautiful stars, astronomical telescopes weren’t wild-spread among locals, enjoyed only by tourists and outsiders. That was probably the case. For them, this was an expensive item brought by outsiders. The stars were beautiful enough at naked eye, so if I had to say it, telescopes weren’t necessary. But if there was something that would help them see better, there would obviously be people saying that they want to take a look.

——Guess I’m gonna contact Shaher’s donors and indicate this place as a potential donation site.

If this pleased so many people, maybe it would be nice to have a telescope that everyone could look into, just as there were benches where everyone could sit on along the streets. I liked stars, so it made me happy even if just one more person fell in love with them.

“Having fun?”

“We are! You’re so generous!”

The figure of an elderly man much older than myself smiling like a boy, looking extremely happy, struck home pretty hard. It wasn’t like I wanted to hang out with anyone or that I had a preference for getting along with everybody. That wasn’t the case at all.

“This thing’s pricey, ain’t it? You okay with people touchin’ it without a care?”

“It’s not made for decoration; it’s something to look at.”

But these kinds of moments were nice.

——Very nice.

If these once-in-a-lifetime encounters would increase the proportion of stargazing in someone’s life, nothing could make me happier.

——When I get old, I guess I’m gonna run a rent-a-telescope or something like that somewhere.

I decided to take a few steps back and let everyone enjoy themselves.

This sensation that the joy of the surroundings was becoming more and more contagious. This feeling that people were gathering there only out of curiosity and adventurous spirit, not for profit. It didn’t seem fitting of my usual self, but something like this was also conceivable every once in a while.

With nothing to do, I naturally started looking around. Wonderful night, wonderful atmosphere.

The figure of someone standing still amongst it all entered my field of vision even without me wanting to. Everyone else had a companion.

The person was clad in dola like me and had a veil covering her face. From her physique, I could somehow presume that she was probably a woman.

Hoping that no weirdos would go talk to her, I worried about and kept watch over the woman, just like people had done for me. If she got caught up by anybody, should I intervene?

I used to hate women, yet here I was, concerning myself with one. I might have a misconstrued sense of justice, but I at least had to care.

I was just looking at her for a little while simply for that reason, but the instant that the wind blew strongly, all of my nerves became her captive. Her veil came off. It came off just slightly and I could see her face.

Her golden hair fluttered leniently. Her shapely profile was exposed under the starry sky. This beauty that could be discerned even in the nightly darkness was breathtaking.

It was really just a few seconds’ time and she immediately fixed the veil back on tight, but I had already seen her, so I knew. I knew.

I knew who that was.

Distancing myself from the telescope, I walked unsteadily towards her. Like winged bugs that gathered up to light.

This person literally shone like a lantern in my life. It was fire that wouldn’t disappear, no matter how much time passed. Time only strengthened the flame’s vigor.

That was why, aah, I... I...

“Violet Evergarden... is that you?”

That was why I called to her at that moment, with a shrill voice. As she looked at me, her eyes slowly crinkled, the corners of her lips went up and she smiled at me.

I felt like tearing up at that.

“It has been a while, Master.”

I had dreamed of this.

“Is it really you?”

I had dreamed of this day.

“Yes, Master.”

Always had been.

“Stupid, I’m not your master anymore... I have a name too... You’ve probably forgotten about it, but I... My name is...”

I had dreamed of this day and had always been thinking about what to say if we ever got to meet again.

“Mr. Leon Stephanotis. Is ‘Mr. Leon’ all right?”

If it were under a starry sky with not a single cloud, we could talk about its bare beauty. If it were on a rainy day, we could discuss the mythology related to the constellations.

“Did I mistake it? I have confidence in my memorization skills, but...”

If it were on a night where a once-in-every-two-centuries meteor were to pass by, we could share stories of the past in which we had observed the sky together.

“No... you got it right. You got it... Just ‘Leon’ is fine... Violet, the time you spent with me was so long ago, and yet, you sure... managed to...”

I had dreamed of this. You had no idea, did you, Violet Evergarden?

“You sure managed to remember.”

You were my first love. The first person I fell for. That day was the first time I confessed to someone.

“Leon, do you recall the promise we made?”

I opened the door to courage. I opened it thinking it would be okay even if I got hurt. But instead of hurting me, you accepted it. You broke my love to pieces, but still acknowledged it.

“Yeah.”

I had dreamed of this. Of this moment. You didn’t have to remember it. You could have forgotten what you had said to me. But if nothing else, I wanted to have one more look at you before I died.

“Have you memorized...”

One more time.

“...the names of a few stars?”

I wanted to see you one more time.

Violet Evergarden. I – the sixteen-year-old Leon Stephanotis – was in love with you.

He was in love with you. So was my current self. Now that you were in front of me, I could tell as much, even if I didn’t want to.

The flame inside my chest was saying, “This woman is the one who started the fire.” It told me that you were the woman who burned me up. You had burned me, and you still were. You melted everything that I had locked up within ice. It told me that you were the woman of my fate.

Violet wordlessly nodded in agreement. She nodded like a child. She was happy that I remembered what she had told me – I could tell by the facial expression she was making.

——You used to be so expressionless and doll-like – who was it that changed you so much?

You weren’t a doll anymore now. More like a girl who had someone’s love. You didn’t look like anything but that in my eyes ever since you were with me, though. But now, surely you had someone. This someone had changed you to that point, right?

“Violet,” I said, suppressing the pain of my sweltering chest. “If you have some time, won’t you spend it with me?” I asked.

I was attempting to open the door to courage again. Regardless of what awaited me beyond it, even if I regretted opening it. I asked nevertheless.

You changed me. You made me who I was. You probably didn’t know that. You didn’t have to.

“Yes, by all means.”

And this beautiful woman in front of me, too.

“I had been waiting for a day to come when I inform you about the fruits of my studies.”

Surely, she had also been made by someone.

“Should we ever meet, I had wanted to report them to you, even if you did not remember.”

Envy, affection and attachment ran through my body.

“That is what I was thinking.”

My sixteen-year-old self was screaming. “I was in love with you. I was in love with you. I was in love with you. I’m in love with you. Even now, I still like you,” he shouted.

I no longer had any of the youth and recklessness of those days. However, regarding my love for her, the me from back when I confessed to her was still here.

“I’m sure what I’m gonna say now will trouble you. But would you listen?”

I was still here. That version of me was still inside me.

Violet Evergarden, you...

“You can laugh if you want; you see...”

...to me, you... a woman like you was...

“You were my first love.”

Violet Evergarden, you...

“I still like you. Forgive me.”

To me, you were a woman of the stars.

#violet evergarden #fyeahvioletevergarden #veedit #kyoani #kyoto animation #leon stephanotis #violet evergarden booklets #akatsuki kana #takase akiko #novel #my translation #leon stephanotis and the first star #leon stephanotis to ichibanboshi

[mionemymind]

Do I owe her the truth?

Summary: (Hermione x Gender Neutral Reader) Should Y/n tell the truth to Hermione no matter the consequences? 

Words: 5223

A/N: Let me know what y’all think. I’m sorry I having been writing a lot but I figured you deserve something for waiting for so long. Thank you for being patient. You all are the best!!

According to the great philosopher Kant, one must always do the nature of the good principle regardless of the outcome. Simply put, even if a killer was knocking on the door and asking for your friend, you must answer with the truth of their location. Although a lot argue over philosophies, Y/n simply minded their business. They figured that they have their whole life to sort out what good things they must do and bad things they must keep away. However, a bright witch among their age, made them question every single good and bad thing they had sorted out in life. Because on the very most important day of Hermione’s life, Y/n pondered the question, “Do I owe her the truth?”

The story starts out small like any simple home. You must start with a bit of foundation and the right material for it to be built. So, when Y/n transferred from Ilvermorny to Hogwarts, the very first student they were introduced to was Hermione Granger.

Walking around the halls, Y/n found themselves slightly amazed at the walls of the castle. From the decorations, to the hallways, its scenery, and even its people were more amazing than of Ilvermorny. “Right this way.” Professor McGonagall led the young sorcerer to the very Great Albus Dumbledore. Y/n had only read of the magnificent things Professor Dumbledore has done for the wizarding world and was only slightly scared to meet her current headmaster. While opening the vastly large door, Y/n slowly followed Professor McGonagall in. At the sound of the doors opening, a booming but soft voice uttered, “Ah there you are! Do come sit.” Walking up the stairs, Y/n sat at the seat in front of his desk. Sweaty palms and nervous thoughts clouded their mind. “It is a great pleasure to welcome you to Hogwarts. I know you must be eager to survey the school so I will make this brief.” With a slight pause, Dumbledore had signaled for McGonagall to leave. “As a long-standing tradition of Hogwarts, let me first assign you your house.” Quickly, a hat that looked as if it lived through many ages, was placed on Y/n’s head. “Fierce loyalty like no other to those she cares about why you must be HUFFLEPUFF!”

The hat was taken off as quickly as it was placed. Soon, a new attire was placed on her lap. “Here is your new schedule that corresponds with what you should be learning now. I took great liberty to consult with your headmaster about your curriculum. They talk highly about you in regards to your academics and wizarding abilities.” Y/n blushed at the sound of the compliment. They weren’t used to the praise given to them. “To make sure you are consistently tested, I made sure to put you in classes with one of the brightest witches of your age – ah and here she is.” Y/n turned around and suddenly timed slowed down. A girl with red and black robes entered the room as if she already owned it. It was the confidence that surrounded her aura the most, but Y/n had noticed more of the beauty that she shows.

“This young witch is Hermione Granger.” Leaping to their feet, Y/n stood up to shake Hermione’s hand. “Y/n Y/l/n.” Hermione gave a small smile and sat next to Y/n as Dumbledore had briefly explained the rules of the school. “Ah – I believe that takes care of everything. Ms. Granger please give our newest student a welcoming tour around the school. I have already informed your teachers of your absence. If you have any questions, please feel free to ask. Other than that, welcome to Hogwarts.”

The two young students left the office and went to the nearest bathroom. While Y/n changed to their new robes, Hermione had fiddled with her hands. “Not to intrude, but you must be extremely smart.” Y/n was buttoning their shirt when Hermione had answered the question. Good thing she couldn’t see them otherwise Hermione would have seen how red Y/n turned. Scratching their neck, Y/n replied, “I guess you could say that.”

“Oh, it’s not a guess rather a fact. You happen to have been put with some of the most difficult classes Hogwarts can currently offer for our year. That’s not something every new student experiences.” It was the way Hermione had said it as a matter of fact that made Y/n blush more. Exiting the stall, Hermione turned around and saw that they had their tie around their neck. “Need help?” Hermione said while pointing at their tie.

Once again Y/n blushed and nodded. Hermione was quick to get close to Y/n and started to tie their tie. “I do have to warn you though. There’s not a lot of competition when it comes to academics in Hogwarts. Don’t get me wrong, there is certain bright students, but none seem to come close.” Tightening the tie, Hermione looked into Y/n eyes. It was the first time she noticed how deep they looked. Regardless of their color, they were enchanting as well. “However, you seem to be my closest competition. So, I will have to take every chance I can get to beat you.” Y/n chuckled at the bright young witch in front of them. Hermione backed away after realized how close they were and cleared her throat. “Don’t take it as a laughing matter. Academics are truly important to me.”

Y/n had put their hands up in defense. “Don’t worry…I just find it funny that you think it’s going to be easy to compete with me.” Y/n smirked at their come back. If you were to ask where the hell that confidence came from, don’t bother. Y/n doesn’t know the answer either. With a similar smirk, Hermione said, “You and I are going to be great together.”

The story continues as the home is built. The next few things needed are the walls and roof.

It was the summer after their third year when Hermione, Harry, and Y/n had spent the summer at the Burrow. Ron had almost forgotten to invite Y/n when Ginny saved the day. The three of showed up at the house all dropping in one by one. Y/n was the last one to drop in, showing up during dinner time. Slowly walking in with trunk in hand, Y/n was met with the sound of their name echoing through the house. Ginny was the first to notice Y/n’s presence and loudly yelled, “Y/n!” Ginny quickly gave Y/n a hug when the echoes came from up the stairs.

“Did someone say Y/n?” George asked.

“Y/n?”

“Are they here?”

“Y/n’s here?!”

Hermione was the last one to ask when a stampede of people came running down the stairs. “Y/n!” One by one, they all started a group hug with Y/n in the middle. “Guys, I can’t breathe.” They all broke apart allowing Y/n to regain air, but was cut off when Molly came swooping in. “Oh, hello dear. I was beginning to worry that you couldn’t make it – are you hungry? You must be starving. I cooked your favorite.” Molly was quick to ramble on and on when Fred had pried the two apart. “Mum, I think Y/n needs oxygen. We’ll go ahead and start setting up the table.”

Molly slightly blushed and smiled at Y/n. “I’m glad that you’re here Y/n. Now come on people, dinner won’t serve itself.” The group was quick to help around the house, working like a well-oiled machine. Soon, everyone was sitting down at the table enjoying their home cooked meal. Y/n was sitting smack dab in the middle between Ginny and Hermione. Across from them were the boys.

Over the course of dinner, plenty of topics arose such as school, quidditch, muggles (only because Arthur can’t get enough), and more. The boys plus Ginny and Y/n couldn’t stop talking about the upcoming Quidditch World Cup. Hermione butted in about how glad she was that summer finally came. It was especially hard on the girl considering her tight schedule.

After dinner came the night. The house was quiet as the guests separated to their assigned rooms. It just so happens that Hermione and Y/n were assigned Charlie’s old room. If it weren’t for the dragon paraphernalia, Charlie’s room was actually quite neat and well organized. “Going to take a gander but I think Charlie really likes dragons.” Hermione snorted at Y/n’s obviously sarcastic comment. “Oh really? Could’ve mistaken me, I thought he was a quidditch fan.” Jokes aside, the two changed into their sleeping garments and went to bed.

Well Hermione went to bed while Y/n stared at the ceiling deep in thought. It was not until the moon was shining brightly through the window that Y/n realized how late it was. Considering the time, they tried to sleep but failed miserably. After giving up, Y/n laid on their side and faced towards Hermione. Seeing as the young wizard had already spent too much time alone with their thoughts, Y/n poked Hermione’s face until she was awake.

“Hermione. Psssst. Hermione” Y/n whispered as they poked her. “Hermione. Psst.” At the feeling of someone poking her, Hermione swatted their hand away. Seeing Hermione with an annoyed sleeping face was funny to Y/n but being alone sucked more. “Hermione, are you awake?” Suddenly, Hermione’s eyes opened; it was like a fierce dragon was staring into your soul. She looked mad at the fact someone woke her up from her slumber. “What Y/n?”

With an innocent smile, Y/n looked at Hermione and said, “Wanna tell secrets?” Hermione rolled her eyes and faced the opposite way of Y/n. “Go to sleep Y/n. We have to wake up early soon.” Y/n groaned at Hermione’s words. She was right, of course, but Y/n couldn’t go to sleep. Night was always the hardest.

“Come on Hermione.” Y/n received no response from the girl. Only a silent shoulder. Laying on her back and hands behind their head, Y/n looked at the ceiling. “Ya know, I know your secret…at least one of them.” Y/n glanced at Hermione and she still was facing away. “Or maybe two of them. Well, it’s the same secret, it just so happens that two Hermiones happen to share them.” Hermione quickly shot up and faced towards Y/n to see them smirking. “It’s not that hard to tell that a bright witch like you can’t be in two classes at once, but somehow you were.” Hermione grabbed her pillow and proceeded to hit Y/n with it. “Don’t you dare tell a soul Y/n Y/l/n. I won’t be afraid to hex you.”

Y/n grabbed the pillow and threw it back at the witch, making sure to aim at her face. “Well maybe next time, try not to be in two places at once. It sure threw me off when I had to drop off a note for the Professor only to have found you in a different class. And after I returned, you were still at the same spot I left you.”

“Unbelievable. I knew I should have volunteered to do that, but you just had to be faster than me.” Hermione rolled her eyes and sat up against the bed frame. Y/n followed suit and did the same thing. There was still an obvious smirk on their face. After a couple minutes, the silence broke. “Well, are you going to tell me your secret since you exposed mine?”

“Well Ms. Grainger lets see what secret you get to hear today.” Pondering for a moment, Y/n tried to think of information that no one knew, something of equivalently as important such as time traveling. “I got it! However, you have to promise me that you won’t tell a soul not even Crookshanks.” Y/n held out their hand with only their pinky in the air. Hermione looked them in the eye as she said, “I promise.” They locked pinkies as Y/n said, “I think I like girls.”

Hermione blinked for a couple seconds which only led devasting thoughts in Y/n’s mind. It didn’t take long, but she responded with, “Oh for Merlin’s sake. If you’re going to tell me a secret Y/n, at least make it to something that isn’t so painfully obvious.”

Hermione broke the gaze as Y/n stared in disbelief. “Don’t look so surprised. Just as you said, maybe next time try not to be caught staring at every single girl in Hogwarts.”

Gulping down their fear, Y/n said, “You don’t mind?” Hermione shook her head. “Nope. Not one single bit. You’re still the same, just love who you love except for racists and he who shall not be named. Well there’s a list. As long as they’re not genuinely bad people and you can see them joining SPEW, then I approve.”

Y/n looked at the girl beside her in amazement and wonder. They continued the conversation as the night grew, telling even more daring secrets as the previous. But one secret did remain with Y/n that night, it was their everlasting crush on Hermione Jean Granger.

The second to last thing a home needs is the spark to light the fireplace as well as the furniture. That way the home can feel as warm and as safe to those that harbor in it.

It was a winter wonderland at Hogwarts. Students were preparing to travel back home to their respective families. However, a group of students decided to spend the last weekend at Hogsmeade before leaving the next day. Right now, they had crowed the room at The Three Broomsticks with laughter, joy, and happy memories. The air was filled with a different type of warmth, one that felt safe and even like a second home. Everyone was talking so loudly within small groups, it was hard to even feel alone. Ginny and Y/n were standing near the fire talking when Fred had grabbed the attention of the room. “Everyone. Everyone. I propose a game. Let’s do a simple muggle game called truth or dare.” Everyone in the group oood as they knew where this was going to lead. They would start with a couple truths before someone breaks the ice with a good dare. Typically, the twins were the ones to propose the dare, but not a lot could compete. “Whoever cannot complete the truth or dare shall lose. Completion allows you to stay,” George had added.

The group sat in a tight makeshift circle that almost took up all the chairs and tables provided. “I’ll start. Harry, who was the last person you snogged?” All eyes were now on the chosen one. Everyone could see his nervousness, but everyone knew he would never want to be the first one out. “Draco.” Certain eyes went wide, but Y/n simply went unphased since she somewhat caught the two making out in between classes. “No questions. Neville, is your crush in this room?” Neville immediately turned red at the question and was the first one to back out. There were small boos mainly coming from the twins. “Since Neville backed out, lets go with the person to his right, Ron. Is your crush in this room?” Ron had the same reaction as Neville but had looked at the ceiling to refrain from giving away his crush. “Yes.” Everyone looked among each other trying to figure out who it could possibly be. “Don’t even try asking who it is. Ginny since you’re bloody enjoying this, did you and Y/n ever snog?” Y/n and Ginny both went wide eyed causing the group to lean a little bit closer to the two. What added more was at how everyone knew how close the two were. Not wanting to entirely answer the question, Ginny backed out the circle causing more booing from the crowd. “What a buzzkill. However, lets just ask the second-best person. Well Y/n, have you snogged my sister?”

Y/n looked at the crowded but had kept glancing towards Hermione. Although it was a simple question, Y/n hadn’t wanted to entirely answer it. You see, Ginny and Y/n did kiss before, but it was an accident. There was a bump, a stumble, then a fall, and then an accident kiss. It didn’t mean anything to the two of them, plus Y/n felt like her heart might’ve been for somewhere. So, Y/n had followed Ginny in the same manner and backed out the circle. “Oh bloody hell! You two have a knack to keep this stupid mystery alive.” They both rolled their eyes at Ron and watched the game continue. What Y/n failed to realize was how affected a certain witch was at their answer.

The game dwindled down until there was three left and unironically it was the golden trio that had made it this far. It was a little surprising for Y/n that Hermione had made it this far. Majority of the time, Hermione would be among the first to decline doing a truth or dare. “I’m sorry Hermione, but I must win. So, I dare you to kiss Ron.” It was something about the dare that made Y/n’s stomach turn. Their mood soured so quickly that they almost felt sick. Slightly tapping Ginny’s back, Y/n whispered in her ear, “Hey, I’m gonna head outside real quick. I don’t feel so good.” Ginny gave a concerned look. She was going to say something back, but Y/n was already out the door with their hand clutching their stomach.

Besides Ginny, Hermione was the only other person that noticed Y/n had left. In her line of sight, she saw past Ron and briefly seen them leave in distress. The deafening chants of “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” didn’t register with her. The only thing running through Hermione’s mind was Y/n. “I’m sorry, I can’t do this dare guys.” Quickly getting out the circle, the chants stopped, and the game continued to declare the winner. Hermione excused herself and made her way outside. She made sure to grab hers and Y/n’s coat. “What an idiot. It’s freezing cold out there.”

Stepping out the tavern, Hermione saw various witches and wizards pass by. Some she knew and some she didn’t. Walking further out, Hermione grew frustrated after not quickly finding her friend. “Where the hell are you?” Walking around further, she saw an outline of a person. Clearly, they had no coat on with how much they were shivering. Hermione walked closer to the figure and realized it was Y/n. “For someone so bloody smart, you are such an idiot.” Hermione accidentally wrapped her own coat around Y/n. She didn’t realize she had instinctively put on her best friend’s coat. Y/n chuckled, but it was cut short due to the freezing weather. Hermione sat down beside them and focused on the view in front of them. There was a small silence between the two as they had people watched. Hermione almost forgot why she even went outside in the first place. She shook her head remembering her thought, “Are you okay? I saw you leave in a hurry.”

Y/n glanced at Hermione, giving her a sheepish smile. “Yeah, I think my stomach was just feeling off. I went outside to get better air.” Hermione looked in their eyes and was quick to call bullshit. “Better air? It’s absolutely freezing out here. Even Merlin themselves wouldn’t want to be outside this weather. So why don’t you tell me the real truth? And if you lie Y/n, I will not hesitate to read your mind.” Y/n gulped at the sound of her threat. They glanced back out into the view in front of them. Taking a deep breath, Y/n nervously replied with, “During your dare, I suddenly felt…sick…I don’t know why but my stomach felt so knotty and I felt like I couldn’t breathe. So, I left.” Y/n glanced back at Hermione and immediately noticed the look on her face. It was intense and serious. Suddenly, something in the air felt different. It was getting hotter and hotter regardless of the snow falling around them.

“Can I kiss you?” Hermione asked in such a small whisper. A lump appeared in Y/n’s throat. They didn’t know what to quite say. They never really thought about what their feelings meant towards Hermione, but then again, everyone practically knew that Y/n and Hermione were in love with each other. Y/n just happened to be the biggest dumbass when it comes to realizing their feelings for others. But here Y/n was. They weren’t answering the question, but felt themselves leaning in. The two closed their eyes and was slowly leaning in. Hermione felt her heart beating so fast that she was certain it would explode, but she didn’t care. She knew that for so long, she wanted this.

However…the moment never arrived. It was cut off from a distant yell, “Y/n!” The two quickly separated and looked at different directions. Suddenly Hermione took it a step further and slightly moved away from Y/n. “There you are – I’ve been looking every where for you!” Ginny jogged up to the duo, noting the awkward tension that emerged. “We have to go back to the castle, I’ll explain on the way.” The red head dragged away her best friend while giving a small nod towards Hermione.

When they were far enough and half way towards the castle, Ginny explained the dire situation. “It’s your parents Y/n, you have to go home. An owl was sent towards the tavern. Here, you’re going to want to read this.” Ginny handed Y/n the letter. After reading it, Y/n’s stomach dropped. “I have to get home.” Ginny sent them a look. “Clearly dumbass. Come on, let’s get your stuff.” It was eerie quiet between the two since the situation had escalated. Y/n’s parents were in trouble and needed Y/n’s help.

Back at Hogsmeade, Hermione didn’t quite know what to feel. She was so close to kissing her crush, but Ginny just had to ruin the moment. The same person she was somewhat certain had Y/n’s heart. Asking the younger lad to kiss her took all the courage Hermione had, and here she was slightly heartbroken that she was gone. So deep in thought, Hermione didn’t notice Ron sit next to her until he said something. “Hey.”

“I need you to explain to Hermione that I’m sorry.” Ginny sighed. She slightly felt guilty for ruining the moment, but time was precious and something Y/n very much needed now. “I know you saw what was going to happen, but I don’t even know what I was doing.” Closing their trunk, Y/n stood up and looked at Ginny. “I do know that I also need to realize what I feel for Hermione. For a lot of my life, I thought I just had a deep love for her. I guess now it might be even deeper.” Ginny walked up and gave Y/n a bone chilling hug.

“I’ll try my best, but she’s definitely going to want to hear it from you.” They separated. Y/n saw the tears forming in Ginny’s eyes. “I’m going to bloody miss you. Please be safe in America and you better send me an owl at least once every two weeks.” Y/n gave Ginny and small salute and crossed their heart.

“I will Ginny. Besides, I need you to deliver all the letters I write for Hermione. I really gotta figure this out.” With one last hug and a small punch to Y/n’s shoulder, the young student left Hogwarts on to the next ride to America. The letter was still clutched in her hand and in it was detailed the long passage of how to save Y/n’s parents from the very people chasing after them. Y/n didn’t quite know how long it was going to take to save their parents, but they could only hope Hermione could understand. “Please wait for me.” Y/n whispered to Hermione in particular, but the younger witch didn’t hear those words. Instead, Hermione heard comforting words from a different red head.

The last thing a home needs is the very people that should live in it. It needs family, friends, and most certainly you and me.

Y/n stood, pacing around the bathroom. They knew time was running out, it was now or never. “Why? Why? Why? Why?” Y/n stood still and pinched the bridge of their nose. Eyes closed, Y/n pondered more and more about all of the things they didn’t do. How could they have let this go on for this long? Why did they let it go on for this long? Deep in thought, Y/n didn’t notice a certain ginger walk into the bathroom. “Y/n, what in the bloody hell are you doing there?  Hermione has been calling you and quite worried sick. If it wasn’t her big day, I would have already knocked you out you big prat.”

Y/n glanced at the second most important person of her life. With a heavy sigh, Y/n slid down the wall. Their knees were propped, hands in their face, and heart in their throat. “I don’t know what to do anymore Ginny.” Ginny pursed her lips and looked back out the door, making sure the coast was clear, before locking the door. She laid her small bouquet of flowers on the sink and sat down near Y/n while trying not to mess up her dress.

“Although I love my idiot brother with all my heart…I somehow love you more.” They sat there together knowing where this was going. “I can’t do it Ginny. I really can’t sit there without feeling like my world is crashing apart right in front of my eyes…The worst thing about it is, I can only blame myself for letting it go this long.”

Ginny rested her head on her best friend’s shoulder. She didn’t quite know what to say anymore. Offering her presence and her ear was the only thing left. “I-I-I spent so long in other countries to try and find my parents while trying to find myself. To try and figure out what I feel for her and by the time I have, she’s already engaged to another…And it’s my stupid fucking fault for ever thinking Hermione would wait. I mean why would she? If some other bloke can already provide her happiness, why should she wait for me? For…us?” Y/n hadn’t realized they were crying until their hands suddenly felt wet. “It’s sad, isn’t it?” Y/n said as they wiped their tears. “What is?”

“Knowing I am my own cause for my sadness. I mean who I am to blame Hermione. The girl was only doing what Aristotle says. Because as he said, we all want to be selfishly happy.” Sighing in defeat, Y/n got up and dusted off their attire. Lending their hand out, Ginny got up and did the same manner. “How much time do I got?”

Ginny looked at the clock in the bathroom. “You have five minutes before she needs to be walking down the isle.” With a small smile, Y/n kissed Ginny forehead and said a small goodbye. The two were only going to part ways for merely a bit. After all, Ginny is Y/n’s second-best friend. But here was Y/n, jogging to the very person that was going to forever have their heart.

Standing outside the bride’s room, Y/n silently prayed and opened the door. There she was in all her glory, the bride to be, the love of her life, the Hermione Granger. However, the brunette herself wasn’t feeling so great. With all the stress of wanting the wedding to be perfect, it wasn’t helping that her very best friend was mysteriously disappearing all the time without a single word. She looked up and sighed once she saw who it was. Picking up her dress, Hermione strutted to Y/n as they closed the door behind them. “Do you have any clue how worried sick I have been?”

“I-” With a single motion of Hermione’s hand, Y/n remained silent. “And anytime I happen to need my best friend to calm me down, they’re nowhere in sight. What is wrong with you? This is my special day Y/n and you haven’t been as great of a friend as you should be. So please, enlighten me where have you been running off to that’s sooo important that you need to leave me?” It was those piercing eyes that made Y/n’s heart melt over and over again. It’s those very same eyes that could practically melt the iceberg that hit the titanic. And it’s those eyes that makes Y/n’s world spin again.

“I…I can’t be your friend Hermione.” Y/n’s voice was so soft and so delicate, Hermione almost questioned if her ears were playing tricks. “What are you bloody saying? You’re not making any sense.” And all the remaining courage Y/n could muster up, they held her hands, looked her in the eyes and said, “When I was gone, I learned of this great philosopher named Kant-” “What does this have to-” Hermione saw the silently begging eyes in front of her and shut her mouth. This was serious and she wasn’t quite sure if she was ready for it.

“He always focused on good principles and always asked about the before of the action. Generally, he believed others should necessarily treat people how they want to be treated. So, a short example is that one should never lie under any circumstances. It does not matter the outcome, but it is simply something you must do. And although I’ve never really believed in absolute, I’ve been asking myself if I should tell the truth. And if people actually deserve to know the truth. So while I thought about it and asked, well what if they deserve the truth, should I still tell them regardless of the outcome? Although I thought I knew a lot of the world, it turns out I only know two things. One is that you deserve to know the absolute truth Hermione and the second is…you are the lie I repeat at night. Because every night I tell I love you, the truth is…I am so in love with you Hermione.”

The world went silent for Hermione. Not even a single pin drop could break the silence for her. Here she was still holding her best friend’s hands as they had just admitted that they were in love with her. “And I’m so sorry Hermione that today of all days was when I told you. I know I had my chances in the letters I sent but I must be honest now because you still deserve the absolute truth. And I’m running out of words to say, because it would be too selfish of me to convince you to run away. So I offer my congratulations Hermione, but I must still run. For then maybe in the blur of life, I can see a small fragment where there could have been you and I.” Y/n kissed Hermione’s forehead as tears may their way down. Letting go of Hermione, Y/n silently walked out the room without turning back because if they had, they would have broken down.

So, while Y/n told Hermione the truth directly. Hermione stood still at the alter with someone who she is most positively certain she loves pondering the very question, “Do I run after the truth?”

#hermione x reader #hermione granger x reader #Hermione Granger Imagines #hermione granger imagine #Hermione Granger

[tomboyneedshercoffee]

Lovedust Pt.4 || Peter Parker x Stark Reader

Summary: As Josh and Y/N get closer, so does her relationship with Peter but when Peter’s health is on the line, it forces them to look at their relationship in a new light. 

Word Count: 2.3k

Author’s Note: It’s literally 5 in the morning wow my sleep schedule is fucked up! Thank you for being patient and thanks for the feedback on how you guys view the idea of Y/N in fanfiction in general! Also let me know if you guys like it, it really helps to know you guys actually like my stuff!

Warnings: mild language,  mentions of pain

part one || part two || part three || part four || part five || part six ||

part seven || part eight || epilogue

Once you were in Anatomy class, you dropped your head down onto the table and closed your eyes. You had spent all of last night studying for a math test and by the time you felt like you had everything down, it was already time to leave for school. 

You didn’t know how you were going to make it through the day, especially since you were the type of person to be grumpy without a full eight hours of sleep. 

“ Do my eyes deceive me or is Y/N sleeping in class?” Josh’s voice whispered from behind you as you straightened your back and turned around to face him,” I didn’t realize you were such a rebel.” 

“ Josh is actually on time for class? I didn’t realize you were such a goodie-two-shoes,” You teased back as Josh smirked. 

“ What can I say, I was extra motivated to show up to class today,” Josh said as he smiled wide at you. 

You turned back around to hide how flushed your face was and tried to think about anything else. You weren’t sure how you truly felt about Josh but there was a small part of you that wouldn’t mind if you did have a small crush on him. 

Everyone knew Josh to be a genuinely sweet guy and nobody ever had anything negative to say about him which only made you more attracted to him. Josh was the perfect student and the golden samaritan and it was about time you liked someone who wasn’t a complete asshole.   

Class went on and you were thankful that Josh remained silent as he sat behind you for your own sake.  It wasn’t until the end of class when your teacher introduced a new project that made Josh sit up a bit taller. 

Once your teacher announced that you were able to pick your own partners Josh tapped your shoulder with his pencil and greeted you with a warm smile. 

“ I think the universe is telling us that we should be partners,” Josh suggested as you tried to not act impressed,” would you want to work on this together? It’s cool if you don’t but I just thought since I already have your number, it would be easier.” 

“ You have my number? ” You asked as you tried to remember if you did give it to him but you knew you definitely would’ve. 

Josh pulled out his phone as he furrowed his eyebrows,” Huh, you’re right. Well in that case, gimme your number so I can call you sometime.” 

Damn, he really was smooth. 

You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh as you took his phone and started to enter your number,” Do you mean you’ll call me about the project?” 

Josh playfully shrugged as you handed back his phone,” Well sure, that too. I actually wanted to ask if you needed a ride to the party on Saturday. I was going to go with my band but there isn’t enough room for all the equipment so we’re taking two cars. It’ll just be me, you, and a few speakers in the car if that’s okay?” 

You didn’t think twice before accepting his offer,” Yeah that sounds great actually, thank you.” 

“ Of course, it’s my pleasure, I’ll pick you up at nine,” Josh smiled as the bell rung,” do you mind if I walk you to class? I don’t want you to sleepwalk on the way there or anything.” 

“ I wouldn’t mind at all,” You said sweetly as the two of you walked out of the classroom side by side. 

                                                           ---------

You took another look at your deck before placing one of your cards face down into the pile. You readjusted your body to lay stomach-down on your bed and eyed Peter suspiciously. 

For the last hour and a half, you and Peter had been playing various card games after he had claimed to be better than you and since you both had competitive spirits, you knew you couldn’t’ let him spew lies. 

Peter sat up on your bed with his legs crossed as his eyes darted from his cards to the movie playing in the background. 

You and Peter had been hanging out more and more lately and you never realized how much fun it was to spend time with him. You couldn’t believe you two had gone from yelling and screaming insults at each other to playfully bantering as you hung out in your room. 

“ What do I get if I win this round?” You ask as Peter let out a low chuckle. 

“ Darling, you’re never going to beat me, I promise you that,” Peter said as he put down another card,” but if you win, maybe I could give you a kiss-from the store! Like those chocolate kisses, the Hershey ones!”

You clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth and shook your head,” Nice save Parker, you were so close! But lets just say when I win...you owe me a favor. Nothing bad but maybe one day you’ll have to do my laundry or make me breakfast.”

“ You know I could do those things for you without having it be a favor,” Peter said as you took another look at your deck,” if anything, now would be the best time to ask me to do favors for you.”

You looked up at Peter for a moment before turning back to your deck of cards. You weren’t sure why his answer had made you feel a certain type of way but you felt guilty nonetheless. 

The idea that because of Peter’s state, you could literally ask him to do anything for you and he would do it without a second guess made you feel gross. You never would want to take advantage of him when you knew he wasn’t in the right state of mind and you would hope that if it were the other way around, he would give you the same respect. 

“ We can wait until after you’re cured,” You assured him as you showed Peter your winning deck with a smirk,” what were you saying about how I would never beat you?” 

Before Peter could answer, the complex shook from underneath the foundation and the lights throughout the building shut off. 

You hardly paid any attention to it since things were always going on around the complex to mess with the power and after a few seconds of waiting, the power came back on and you moved your attention to the cards on the bed. 

“ What do you think it is this time?” Peter asked as you handed him the rest of the cards so he could reshuffle them. 

You shrugged as you sat up from the bed and looked out towards your window that looked out to the landing pad,” Well there’s not some spaceship outside so I’m guessing it came from the labs, speaking of which, my dad said they've been working extra hard and they think they found something.”

“ That’s good news,” Peter said as he felt a bit of relief,” I want everything to go back to normal...I won’t lie, I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”

As each day passed, Peter’s mental and physical health declined drastically.  From agonizing insomnia to tight chest pains, Peter felt like his body was turning on him and he had never felt this type of pain before. 

Peter knew that this lovedust wasn’t temporary and the only way his pain would stop would be when a cure was found. In the beginning, he found himself to mostly be embarrassed around you and what would accidentally spill out of his mouth but now, he found so much comfort in being near you because that was the only way his pain would stop. 

“ I’m sorry I can’t do anything to help. If there was a way to take all of your pain for myself, you know I would,” You said as Peter shook his head. 

“ No, absolutely not. The way this dust messes with my mind and my body… I would never want you to go through something like this. You know how I was with my spidey senes? This is a hundred times stronger than that and your whole existence is underneath a microscope that I physically can’t pry away from but at the same time, I don’t want to look away,” Peter said as you grabbed one of your pillows and hugged it against your chest,” When I think about you, -which is all the time- I can feel myself getting more anxious-but in a good way- and then when I finally see you, it literally takes my breath away.”

You couldn’t help but let out a burst of laughter as Peter awkwardly laughed with you,“ God Parker, you’re so cheesy. Are you saying the lovedust made me pretty?” 

Peter’s cheeks flushed as he sunk into his seat shyly,” You were always pretty. Even before the lovedust, I thought you were the most beautiful girl I ever saw.”

Now it was your turn to stop laughing as your smile dropped into a ‘seriously?’ look. The idea of Peter ever thinking you were pretty had never even crossed your mind but now that he was confessing that he did even before the lovedust made your heart skip a beat. 

You weren’t sure why you were nervous all of a sudden but you couldn’t even bring yourself to respond. 

Luckily, you didn’t have to because not even a moment later, a loud knock came from the other side of the door and you could hear your dad’s voice. 

“ Y/N, can I come in?” Tony asked as you and Peter’s eyes opened wide, silently panicking. 

Your dad had specifically told you almost every day that you were meant to stay away from Peter and you knew that if he found out, you would be grounded for the rest of your life. Your dad was a great parent but the reason that your relationship with him worked was because of trust and honesty. 

The rule was that he would always be honest with you if you were honest with him and you knew how much it would hurt him if he found out you were seeing Peter behind his back. 

You pushed Peter off the bed in a panic as he looked back at you confused. You pointed underneath your bed as Peter shimmied under it without a second thought. 

You quickly went to the door and opened it wide to see your dad standing there in his lab coat. 

“ Have you seen your boyfriend? He needs to do another round of tests before bed and I can’t find him anywhere,” Your dad said as he walked past you and sat right on the edge of your bed. 

“ Um, excuse me, don’t contaminate my bed with your lab coat! And nope, not since you explicitly told me not to,” You said as you sat across from him at your desk,” Also, wow boyfriend? I thought I wasn’t supposed to have one until I’m forty? ”

You purposely tried to keep your eyes away from the bottom of the bed but you knew how easy it would be to lock eyes with Peter who was looking up at you. 

“ And I still stand by that. All boys are dumb and immature with the exception of any who live in this complex,” Tony looked over at the neatly stacked cards and started to shuffle them. 

“ Uncle Scott doesn’t live here,” you pointed out as your dad nodded,” and Uncle Steve just visits.”

“ Did I stutter?” He said as you let out a small laugh,” But now that I’m here, I wanted to talk to you about Peter and what we discovered so far. I don’t want to scare you but his condition is getting severe and I feel like you should know what’s going on.” 

You darted your eyes towards the bottom of your bed but quickly looked back at your dad. 

“ Um, does Peter know what’s going on?” You asked as your dad shook his head. 

If there was any chance that whatever your dad was about to say could mentally or physically break down Peter, you didn’t want it to be from Peter listening in underneath your bed.  

“ No and he can’t know,” your dad sighed as you shifted in your seat,” I think it would mess with his head and we need his morale to be high.  You cannot tell him but we discovered-”

“Dad um, I’m really tired and I have school in the morning. Can we talk about this another time?” You interrupted as your throat suddenly felt dry,” school has me drained and I don’t think I’m emotionally ready for any other curveballs.”

Your dad only nodded as he got up from the bed and pressed a kiss onto your forehead,“ Alright kiddo, don’t stay up too late. After school, I want you up in the lab with Banner and I, we could use your help,” Tony said casually as you gave him a small smile. 

“ Okay, no problem, goodnight,” You said as your dad closed your bedroom door behind him. 

You waited a second and thought things over as Peter scooted out from underneath your bed. 

You turned your head to look at Peter and as you two locked eyes for a moment, it was as if you two were both apologizing by just one glance. You wanted to tell him that everything would be okay and that no matter what, Peter would be able to be back to normal yet you knew you shouldn’t promise things you couldn’t keep. 

Peter knew that you wanted to spare his feelings but he would’ve given anything to find out what his mentor was keeping from him. For the first time since he made contact with the lovedust, he felt defeated and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. 

You didn’t want to lie to him but it was hard to do that when you knew you should comfort and console him. 

The idea that something was really wrong with Peter besides a few embarrassing word vomits terrified you and you never thought that it would ever get so serious. 

“ Peter, I will always be here if you need anything...No matter what, you’ll always have me,” You said as Peter’s jaw clenched. 

You knew those weren’t the best things to hear at a time like this but you couldn’t bring yourself to lie and tell him that everything will work out when you didn’t have all of the information. 

Peter got up from the ground and stood over you, his dull eyes felt like they were looking through you instead of at you,” Just...don’t give up on me, okay?”

You bit the inside of your cheek and nodded as Peter gave you one final look before exiting your room. 

As soon as the door closed behind Peter, he felt his knees buckle in as he slid down on the other side of the door and did his best not to cry. 

Every time Peter exhaled, he felt like his throat was on fire and the only way he could describe the feeling in his chest was imagining loose telegraph wires electrocuting a swimming pool. As his breathing became more rapid and shallow, all he could think about was how to stop the pain. 

He didn’t know that being in love could ever feel this painful but Peter hated it. He hated the feeling of being so helpless and he hated himself for always thinking of you. 

Every thought of him holding you close to his chest, him pressing his lips against yours, and him telling you over and over again how much he loved you felt corrupted and only brought more pain. 

But if Peter really thought about it, he would never take any of it back. If being in love with you meant that there was a chance he could literally die, then that was a risk he was willing to take. 

@eridanuswave​ @juliet-winterson​ @akacalumtrash​ @ilovepeterparker13​

@parkerboop​ @juliebean247​ @multi-fan-lover​ @ffffan-----girlll @lukesbabylon​

@danicarosaline​ @parkeret​ @marvel4geeks​ @hollander69​ @spideyyeet​ @spn-assemble-seven​ @vibraniumdaisies​ @spaghetittiesbcimgay​ @vi-bi-bye

@lemonsnips​ @aduky​ @faithfullcompanion​ @stopthemotherfuckingmusic

@satellitespidey @foreverpark​ @marvelobsessedteenager​ @deadpoetsbackup

@zalladane​ @starcourt-s​ @parkersinfinitywar​ @stargazingcarol​ @littlesugarb​

@itsteph13​ @jennasmmith​ @liljennyx3​ @harryspet​  @todaynotseen @oh-whatabeautiful-parker​  @tiny-friggin-human @popluckbih    niiight-dreamerrrr     sovereignparker  marie-is-in-the-dark  buckyboy-soldier   maia030   parkershoco wolverinesbeer   cherrysruin  sunkissdes  kiainspace  songofcosplay spideylovin  write-from-the-heart  thatcrazywhovian09  eternallyvenus  thollandx msrawog  idiosadeoro  imawkwardandhereweare  foundwolves thequeen-oni silverwolf-sama  inspiring-bea  multiversegalaxygirl  lastupidebitchette idekwho1am

silverwolf-sama  wishing-wanting  annoyinglyloudcomputer  faithful-music akacalumtrash  agusdoti   panickedbrain   serendipitous-amor   shannonthewriter-blog    darth-andy   farfromtom   xroselights   murdermornings dorbiksbitch   baby-unidorn   yes-multi-fandom-girl   multiversegalaxygirl a-disappointing-teen-author

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker imagines #peter parker x stark reader #peter parker x stark!reader #peter parker smut #spiderman #spiderman x reader #spiderman imagine #spiderman imagines #spiderman smut #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland imagines #tom holland smut #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #marvel imagines #marvel smut #avengers #avengers x reader #avengers imagine #avengers imagines #avengers smut #Joshua Bassett #joshua bassett smut #joshua basset x reader

[xxx-cat-xxx]

heaven forbid (you end up alone)

Two years on and I'm still not over Endgame. But at least I finally finished this fic!

A word of warning; this one is Endgame-compliant and centred around the topic of grief and Pepper’s and Happy’s friendship in the aftermath of Tony’s death.

Major thanks to @twentyghosts​ for beta reading.

*

Throughout her life, Pepper has always divided her days into small pieces, regulated by meticulous plans. She can’t remember ever waking up without a mental―or written―to-do list and a clear idea in which order to tackle it. It’s her way of managing a multinational company. Of managing Tony, which was arguably more challenging than SI’s 300,000 other employees combined. Of managing her own alien-invaded, super power-sprinkled, increasingly absurd life. 

And whenever things get overwhelming and she feels like she’s falling into a bottomless, desperate pit, that’s what she does: plans the next 30 minutes, and then the 30 minutes after that, and so on until it’s one thirty am and she is tired enough to fall into bed without having to think about anything except what’s ticked off on the list and what’s left for tomorrow. 

That’s what she does now, seven weeks after her husband’s death. 

This Saturday is booked for tidying up the closets. There is no need to keep Tony’s clothes, other than a few special ones for memory’s sake, the band shirts and the ones with the science puns she still likes to sleep in. And it would be a waste to wait any longer to donate them: even two months on, there is more than enough need out in the streets due to the chaos that came on after the reverse. 

Homeless people wearing 5000 dollar suits, that would have been to Tony’s taste. 

Pepper has cleared her schedule well in advance, picked a weekend Morgan can stay with Rhodey, already ordered the Dress for Success pick-up for the next morning. Made a plan of action, starting with the top floor. 

All that’s left now is to do it.

“Okay, Virginia,” she tells herself. The name feels unfamiliar on her tongue, but maybe she needs this, needs the reminder that she had a life before Tony Stark and, as horrible as it sounds, will have one after him. “Get up. Drink some water. Go through the closets.” 

It’s just that she can’t. 

She enters the bedroom, their bedroom, her bedroom, opens the cupboard. And then she stands in front of it for almost twenty minutes, unable to bring herself to move. 

Finally, her legs grow a bit weak under her and she has to sit down on the floor, less and less successfully fighting the feeling that the air around her is completely devoid of oxygen. She can’t breathe. She can’t get up. She can’t walk over to the closet and get started with the next item on her list―it’s as if there’s an invisible barrier between her and the task. She just can’t. 

It takes her almost 45 minutes before she finally calls Happy.

*

Much like Tony, Pepper is someone who distracts herself with work, and looking after Morgan, organising the funeral and getting the Stark Foundation into motion to set up shelters for four million Returned without a place to go have been tasks so time-consuming that she didn’t have any other option than just to function, and function well. Almost well enough to trick herself into believing that she’ll be fine.

Sometimes she wonders whether she has become so good at perfecting the image she shows to the public that she doesn’t even know anymore who she actually is. 

“Hey.” 

She hadn't noticed Happy’s presence until he is standing in the doorframe. 

“Happy,” she greets, her voice sounding foreign to her own ears. 

“Oh, Pepper.” He looks her up and down, his expression equal parts sad and kind. “Come on. Let’s get you up from the floor.” 

She pushes away his hands helping her up, she doesn’t need them, doesn’t need any help, but then the world blurs suddenly and she kind of does. Happy steadies her when she sways, alarmed but not as surprised as she’d want him to be. It would irritate her, on normal days, because she can take care of herself, doesn’t need anyone to hold her, thank you very much. But today she is just a bit too tired to pretend. 

"Have you eaten?" he asks, voice still too warm when he guides her over to the bed and sits her down. 

“I had...tea this morning.”

“And last night?” 

She is silent. He sighs, and she deflects, “Haven’t had much of an appetite lately.”

“Alright, I’ll go find us some food. Just stay here.”

“Thanks, Happy,” she says quietly. 

He sighs again. “It’s alright. I knew this was going to happen sooner or later. I’m just glad I’m here.” 

She nods. She knew it too, that she wouldn’t be able to distract herself forever, even if she wouldn’t admit it to herself. But that’s the thing. She wasn’t afraid of it happening, only of the After―of things calming down and her having to deal with the lonely, horrible, rest of her life. Of realising that the inevitable breakdown doesn’t help a single bit. That picking up the pieces is not in the least easier than keeping them together.

*

Happy returns 15 minutes later with a big bag of cavity-inducing gas station doughnuts, sprinkles and all. The mere thought of biting into one makes Pepper’s stomach roll. 

“I’m not sure I can eat those,” she tells him when he sits next to her on the bed and leans against the headboard. 

“Just try.” 

She does, fighting down the looming nausea, and, surprisingly, the sweetness helps. She breathes out, one and a half doughnuts and a small bottle of orange juice later, and finds that her head feels clearer. 

“Morgan would love this,” she observes, nodding at the rest of the treats. “She’s been trying to bully me into making her waffles for breakfast every single morning of the last whole month.” 

“So, did she succeed?”

Pepper shakes her head. “It’s bad for her health. But she keeps throwing tantrums. I know it’s because of what happened, but god, she's been so difficult. The way she shouts at me, sometimes I think she hates me.”

Happy sets down his reusable coffee cup and looks straight at her. “She doesn't, Pepper." 

She can’t stop herself from snorting. “How would you possibly know?”

“I can see the way she looks at you. Looks up to you. She adores you.”

“I…” Pepper bites her lip, unable to decide whether that’s something she wants to share. Life has taught her that it’s usually better to keep your weaknesses to yourself if you want to stay on top. But then, it’s not like there is any competition of people wanting to parent her daughter. “I don’t know about that. I know she misses Tony, but I also feel that she misses...a parent who knows how to handle her. I’m not―sometimes I’m afraid I’m not a very good mother.”

“That’s not true, Pep, and you know it.”

She takes a deep breath. “I never wanted to have children, Happy. I mean, it’s not that I didn’t want Morgan, once we decided in favour of me getting pregnant. And I never regretted having her. But it was mostly Tony who pushed for this, who needed this. He has - had - a way with kids...you know, I can be strict, but he can―could―get her to do what is necessary without even having to raise his voice. And sometimes I just wonder―what if I ruin it, Happy? She only has me.”

“Firstly, that’s not true. Rhodey and I are here for you too. You got your sister, and I’m sure Peter would be more than happy to babysit as well. There’s more than biological parents for a kid, you know that better than anyone, right?” 

She nods, hesitantly.

“And secondly,” he continues, “You are doing great under the circumstances. Nobody is born a parent. But if you’re good at anything, then it is to adapt to difficult situations. You can do this, Pepper.”

“Yeah, I know… I know I can.”

And that’s exactly the point. Pepper has always pulled through. Everyone expects her to keep functioning, and she isn’t one to miss people’s expectations. But sometimes she wonders if she’s still alive in there.

*

They finish up the doughnuts and start tackling the clothes. It goes surprisingly smoothly, and Happy even coaxes a few hesitant chuckles out of her when he fishes a gold-glittery mankini and a few other special-occasion items out of the far corner of Tony’s wardrobe. They are three boxes in and have moved one floor down when Pepper takes a break to pee and wash the dust off her face in the guest bathroom.

Tony’s shaver is lying on the edge of the sink. He must have been shaving here the day he left for the compound, likely because Pepper or Morgan were using the upstairs bathroom, and left it there. She always tells him to put it back in the cupboard and he always forgets―forgot. She picks it up, ready to put it where it belongs, when it hits her. 

It’s futile. It’s a personal shaver of a man who’s never going to need one again. Nobody’s ever going to use this particular shaver again. She could just as well throw it away. 

Pepper feels anger burn hot and fierce in her chest. She opens her mouth, to scream, maybe, but all that comes out is a broken sob. 

Happy must have been listening for her from the other room, because he is there in an instant. She turns away, reflexively hiding the tears on her face, but he stops her.

“Hey. It’s okay. It’s okay to cry.”

“I need to―I don’t have time―”

“I think we can clear fifteen minutes in your schedule for a breakdown, right?” Happy teases, the smallest of smiles on his face although he looks close to tears himself.

A memory strikes, and she chuckles through the sobs, then cries harder. 

“What’s it?”

“That’s just the kind of thing he would have said.”

“Oh, Tony,” Happy smiles sadly.

“I just―I miss him so much, Happy. It’s―It’s all the small things―his shaver―the tinkering and the empty pizza boxes everywhere and the never-ending cups of coffee and the way he just keeps on talking, to his bots and to me and Morgan―and―” she runs out of breath. 

“I know. I miss him too.”

“You know, the way he used to stick his tongue between his teeth when he was concentrating and not realising anyone was around? Morgan did the same recently while drawing, and I just―sometimes I just can’t―”

“You can do it, Pepper. If there’s anyone who can do it, it’s you. You are strong.”

Pepper laughs, but it sounds shrill and false in her ears. 

“People say that all the time, you know? And the worst thing―you know what the worst thing is?”

Happy shakes his head.

“The worst thing is, it’s true. You know, early into the relationship I was thinking that I can’t live without him. I was so, so scared something would happen to him, so I tried to stop him from being Iron Man… And then we took a break, and he ended up half-dead in Siberia, and at that time I realised that yes, I can live without him. It just wasn’t a life I wanted to live. And now―thinking that I have to do this every day, it’s just―it’s like someone is sitting on my chest and strangling me, over and over again.”

She hears Happy swallow hard, then he shuffles closer and wraps his arms around her, pulling her close. One of the bear hugs that got her through the time when Tony was in Afghanistan and both of her parents died in the span of three months, that got Tony through his panic attacks, and Morgan through some of her nightmares. 

She feels water drop onto her neck, and she knows Happy is crying too. 

*

They do finish the clothes before nightfall, because Pepper has always been awfully good at ticking off to-do lists, even on the worst days. When they are done, they get a bottle of red wine from the cellar and empty it in Tony’s honour, sitting near the lake where Pepper and Tony once spent a whole night just after they bought the house getting eaten by mosquitos, when they decided to turn it from a temporary recovery getaway into a home for as long as time would grant them. 

Morgan took her first steps here, had her first fall, cried buckets in Pepper’s arms while Tony put a band-aid on the scratch on her elbow, and Pepper remembers thinking how little children know of pain. A few steps below Pepper laid the arc reactor to water, holding the hand of the girl who now knew so, so much of it; and sometimes she doesn’t know if she wants to preserve the place forever or burn it all down. 

They sit and drink and at some point Pepper closes her eyes, and through the buzz of alcohol she can almost imagine that Tony is in the garage, finishing up a project before joining them for the night. 

She thinks of him with love, with tenderness, with unforgiving pain.

She wonders if it will ever get easier. She wonders if she even wants it to be.

*

They go to bed at two. Happy takes the guest room where Tony’s shaver is now lying at the bottom of a dust bin. Pepper lies wide awake, her window open, listening to the familiar sounds of life far away from the city. 

She will fall asleep eventually, facing away from the empty side of the bed. She will wake up at six, a little hungover, force herself to start the day with yoga and a run. Will call Dress for Success to make sure they get to the house on time, will oversee the pick-up. Will have breakfast with Happy so he doesn’t have to worry about her passing out when he gets on his way. Will sit through an SI video conference until it’s time to pick up Morgan, maybe take her to the mall or to see a movie on the way back home from Rhodey’s. Will make her dinner, give her a bath, put her to bed on time, if possible without a tantrum. Will tackle her email inbox until a headache will force her to bed. Will make a plan for Monday, another Monday without Tony, before falling asleep. Will wake up and face that one too.

Rinse and repeat, one day at a time.

*

All my fics

All my Pepperony fics

#pepperony moments #mcd #(canonical) #pepper potts needs a hug #happy hogan gives her one #remembering tony #thanks to everyone who gives this a try despite the heavy topic! #i appreciate you

[hardygalwrites]

FanFiction.Net Link

(image source)

Cartoon: Transformers Prime

Characters: Smokescreen and Megatron, with flashback appearances from Prowl, Alpha Trion, and Team Prime

Synopsis: There’s nothing in the dark. Absolutely nothing. It’s freaky, and it sucks, but it’s preferable to letting Megatron get his servos on that information contained within the memories that keep on replacing the darkness. Just keep running. It sucks, but staying in the dark means keeping Megatron in the dark.

Right?

Note: Originally published on FFN early in 2018. Set during Season 2, Episode 23: Inside Job

—

The library was one of his favourite places in the Hall. When he wasn't in the outside courtyard, looking for any sign of what was going on beyond the Hall, he was inside the library, reading or studying some piece of lore or history. Or, occasionally, he would just be in the library to be in the library. It was quiet, but not in a bad way, and he could usually count on being alone in there. So, optics closed and servos clenched, Smokescreen just focused on steadying his venting.

There was a thought that kept on pulling at the back of his processor, asking why he was there, stating that something wasn't quite right, but he just had to ignore it. Chances were, he'd simply gotten into another argument with one of the perimeter guards and had finally lost his cool. The thought was strangely comforting, and Smokescreen let himself relax.

"The Hall of Records."

His vents hitched, and his optics snapped open.

"I do not think I have been here since Orion Pax still held his position as an archivist."

The voice echoed through the library, low, calm, yet shaking the Hall to its very foundations and rattling Smokescreen down to his protoform. His vents were beginning to pick up again, and Smokescreen turned every which way, searching every corner, every aisle, for the source of the thunderous voice.

"You're not supposed to be here!"

"I was not aware you knew anything about the Hall," the voice continued calmly, easily drowning out the echoes of Smokescreen's comparably more pathetic shout. "But no matter. There is only one thing you know that matters to me."

Smokescreen's doorwings stiffened. He spun around and looked up, optics widening. Standing there, much, much larger than Smokescreen remembered, was Megatron.

"The identical relics. What are their function?"

"Frag off!" Smokescreen turned and ran, out through the library doors and into a landscape of inky blackness.

There was nothing out there. No light, no sound, nothing. He could see his servos as he ran. He could hear his swift pedesteps and sharp vents, but it all seemed muted, as though the landscape sought to swallow anything that brought some form of tangibility to it.

A short, scathing scoff filled Smokescreen's audial receptors. "Futile."

Megatron's voice wasn't muted. If anything, the massless, shapeless world of nothing only seemed to amplify Megatron's voice, accepting it as the only other tangible thing to be contained within and giving unwanted company to a solitary bot, running from nothing, through nothing, to nothing.

"Your thoughts are mine to uncover. Nothing you want hidden can be hidden from me."

That was a challenge. Smokescreen slowed down, turning back to shout defiantly into the darkness. "Try me, bucket-helm!"

"Shhhh!"

Smokescreen glanced at his fellow guard, doorwings dipping.

"Sorry," he muttered, then looked back into the locked hall, optics continuing to examine every relic.

As he studied a certain relic that looked like an oversized key, he asked, "Hey, d'you think I could maybe, y'know...?"

The other guard scoffed. "Kid, your job's to keep an optic on Alpha Trion. Unless he decides to enter the relic hall, you're not going anywhere near this place. Which reminds me - why the slag aren't you at your post?"

"You were bodyguard to the master archivist."

Smokescreen turned sharply to see the massive form of Megatron standing right behind him. He stumbled back in alarm, and within the blink of an optic, he was back in the world of nothingness.

"Clearly you failed your duty," Megatron said, almost conversationally.

Smokescreen didn't have time to be offended or stung by the comment. He turned and continued running. Just focus on running, he thought to himself. Just running. Running through the blackness. Running to escape anymore memories–

Running up to another podium, where that large, key-like thing floated in its display field.

"And what's this one?" he asked eagerly.

"A secret," Alpha Trion replied with a small smile.

Smokescreen pulled back from the podium, not sure whether or not to be laughing, protesting, or disappointed. "Seriously?"

"There are many secrets contained within the Hall," Alpha Trion said calmly, walking along past his bodyguard. "This relic being one of them. Perhaps, someday, I will reveal these secrets to you."

"All right." He trotted after Alpha Trion and slowed to the old bot's pace. "...Maybe we could have, like, a secret revealing schedule of some kind?"

"These secrets must have been revealed to you."

Smokescreen stumbled and fell, back in the world of blackness. "What's happening?" he gasped, clutching his helm.

Heavy pedesteps approached from behind. "I told you, everything you know is mine to uncover, whether you try to run from it or not."

Smokescreen scrambled to his pedes and turned, back-stepping as he–

Spread his servo dramatically towards the next relic. "And this one's..." He paused, glancing at the key-shaped relic. "Actually, I still have no clue what this one is. Yet. Alpha Trion's still all hush-hush about it."

"So, he doesn't trust you with everything."

Smokescreen's doorwings lowered a bit. "No- but I trust him," he added quickly. "I'm sure he has a reason for hidin' some stuff. He'll tell me some time. I mean, Alpha Trion still does trust me."

"I should hope so," his companion said with a small scoff. "You're doing something wrong if he doesn't."

Tour forgotten, Smokescreen finally asked what had been on his processor for awhile. "Why're you here, Prowl?"

"What do you mean–"

"Stop!" Smokescreen practically screamed into the darkness as the memory gave way to it, servos once again clasping the sides of his helm. "Get out of my head!"

A sigh filled Smokescreen's audial receptors. "Your attempts to fight, while still futile, are beginning to annoy me."

Smokescreen shook his helm and resumed his run through the darkness.

"Perhaps I should occupy you with something else."

That didn't sound good, but Smokescreen didn't slow his pace. He kept running–

Only for that rough servo to shove him back again. "Slaggit, kid, I said stay back!"

Smokescreen could still hear that one mech he could never remember the name of, screaming as though his legs had been blown off. Slag, maybe they had! Smokescreen didn't know, and it was freaking him out!

Ever adept at keeping his pedes, the adolescent sparkling kept trotting after the squad of frantic bots. "But isn't there anything I can do t' help–?"

"No, you can't do anything, slaggit!" the last bot in the procession snapped, glaring down at Smokescreen. "Now stay back!"

Another shove, and this time Smokescreen fell back onto his skidplate. Doorwings drooping, the adolescent sparkling watched as the bots disappeared down the hall. His spark was writhing in turbulent emotions, Smokescreen had to remind himself that "soldiers don't cry."

"Smokescreen." That was Prowl.

Fighting back the lubricant building up in his optics, Smokescreen got to his pedes and turned to look–

Out the window, optics wide as he watched one of the buildings at the farthest edge of Iacon collapse in a mass of smoke.

Another movement, much closer this time, caught his optic, and Smokescreen looked down to see one of the officers racing across the courtyard to where their commander was issuing orders to a few of the perimeter guards. The commander stopped as soon as the officer ran up to him. As he listened to the officer's report, the commander's faceplates became weary. He turned away, pinching the area between his optics. The remaining perimeter guards muttered to each other.

Optics still wide, Smokescreen looked back towards the far edge of the city. That building was gone, leaving only a pillar of smoke to distract from the otherwise serene cityscape that was Iacon.

All the turbulent emotions that had been building up in Smokescreen since he had received his assignment that that morning finally came out, and he slammed his servos against either side of the window frame with a yell–

But his voice was instantly lost in the stifling hum of the ship's engines.

This only angered Smokescreen more.

Again he pulled forcefully at his bonds, and again he was punished with a sharp pain in his shoulder joints and no give to the bonds whatsoever. Again he shouted his frustration into the halls, and again his voice was lost in the constant hum of the ship's engines. And then, just like that, Smokescreen deflated. He hung limply in his bonds, energy spent, frustration and anger vented, with only his unvented emotions for company.

What had he done wrong? He had been more than ready to fight the 'Cons when they'd attacked the Hall, and yet he was now their prisoner. And what about Alpha Trion? Primus, the mere thought of the old bot - whom Smokescreen had been ordered to protect - made Smokescreen's doorwings feel like they were curling in on themselves.

He had failed.

He had promised he would fight for the cause, he had been given orders, and he had failed.

Smokescreen's spark sank, and–

He looked at his servos helplessly. "I... I told Optimus I'd return with that key."

He could hear groundbridge popping up nearby, but Smokescreen was a little too lost in his own failure to pay any attention to it. In the midst of his dejection, Smokescreen could feel Bulkhead's heavy arm around his shoulders.

"Look, kid," the big bot said comfortingly. "Alpha Trion said we need all four keys–"

The world seemed to slow down. Alarm bells went off in Smokescreen's processor. Everything was a brief blur of colour and panic, and Smokescreen clasped both servos to his helm.

"No!"

In an instant, his cry was lost in the world of blackness. Except, the world seemed to have gained a little more life - Smokescreen was vaguely aware of many voices echoing around him, of his memories showing up as blurred images out of the corners of his optics, of the enormous form of Megatron perusing them like datapad entries. But he couldn't focus on any of that. Fighting the ache in his processor, Smokescreen stumbled forward.

Just keep running, he thought. If he just kept running...

He could see a door ahead. It looked like the door to the library.

Just keep running.

He quickened his pace, and within seconds, Smokescreen burst through the door, leaving the darkness, his memories, and the enormous warlord picking at them, behind.

He was standing in Prowl's old office. It wasn't the library, but it was enough for Smokescreen. Leaning both servos on the desk in front of him, Smokescreen closed his optics and focused on his venting.

"What was the message?"

Smokescreen opened his optics, doorwings perking up. Bulkhead? He turned, optics full of hope.

"It is paramount that we recover the final four Iacon relics."

And just like that, Smokescreen's doorwings dropped, along with his spark. That was Optimus's voice, coming from the other side of Prowl's office door, but...

"The Omega Keys."

Smokescreen's doorwings fell flat onto his backstruts. "Oh, no."

"Keys?" Arcee echoed questioningly.

"To what?" Ratchet asked.

"No!" Smokescreen burst through the office doors and found himself standing in the brightly lit Autobot base, watching as he and the rest of Team Prime looked up at their leader expectantly.

"To the regeneration of our home planet," Optimus declared.

That was it.

"No..."

Smokescreen felt as though the world had fallen out from underneath him.

"No..."

He stepped back from the scene, as though that would rewind and reset what had just happened.

"Oh, Primus..."

Heavy pedesteps shook the ground behind him. Smokescreen's servos clenched, and he turned on the giant form approaching from the shadows of the base.

"Now what?" Smokescreen snapped, quickly realizing he needed to control his vocalizer as it pitched slightly. "You're done, right? So get out of my head, and leave me alone!"

Still standing in the shadows, Megatron only released a thoughtful hum.

"Ugh, slag this!" Smokescreen punched a nearby wall.

All energy left his chassis, and he leaned quickly leaned against the wall he had just punched, processor a whirl of messy thoughts and spark a hotbed of writhing emotions.

He had failed.

He had tried. By Primus, he had tried. He had run, he had hid, he had tried to stay in the dark.

But he had failed.

What would the team say? What would Optimus say?

The thought sent a stab through Smokescreen's spark. Team Prime–

Gathered around their leader as he responded to Smokescreen's doubts.

"While I am unfamiliar with the lore of these Omega Keys," Optimus admitted. "Alpha Trion knew many secrets, and the Ancients possessed technology that has long been lost to what we consider 'modern science'–

"Whatever their function, this much is certain: we can not restore Cybertron without all four Omega Keys in our possession–

"The future of our home world depends on it."

#posting from THE ARCHIVES #my first Smokescreen centric fanfiction ^-^ #he deserves more content #but maybe thats just my bias because he is one of my most favourite characters EVER #transformers #transformers prime #smokescreen #tfp smokescreen #megatron #tfp megatron #fanfiction #transformers fanfiction #HardyGal writes stuff #HardyGal writes fanfiction

[lonelypond]

BETWEEN US

NicoMaki, Love Live, 3.6K, 1/1

Summary: Nishikino Maki and Yazawa Nico have many challenges ahead, but they get through them together.

Between Us

Is this what love is? Not a fire that bites painfully but two people laying so close to feel every breath, hands nearly touching, eyes on the brilliant stars opening themselves up suddenly, sure enough to share truths they speak into the night, this solitary space, this private moment between them.

Nishikino Maki spoke first, always the more impatient, curious about Yazawa Nico’s state of mind. “What do you want to do, Nico-chan?”

“Nico wants to show everyone that little and cute can be strong, sexy smart, talented, funny, hard working, successful….I’m tired of how the world treats cute girls like Nico. Nico is a star.” Nico flung her arms out, to encompass the sky. “They should be in awe.”

I am, Maki said to herself, and then thought, why not say it out loud. This was all new, why not be bolder.

“I am.”

Nico squeezed Maki’s hand, a reward for honesty. “What do you want to do, Maki-chan?”

No one said Maki’s name like Nico. It had been Maki’s anchor through the continuing craziness of Muse, Eli’s taskmaster torture, qualifying, Honoka’s collapse, then starting over, right as they discovered these new feelings, a gift from all they’d been through.

“I want to use the Nishikino fortune for new things, good things, to stop propping up out dated ways and awful people. I want to find new ways to help…” Maki was a person of specifics and she had a list. “Girls, gays, empaths, people fighting bigotry, neurodivergents, water protectors,” Maki thought of Rin and giggled, “furries, us, our friends, the world.”

“Maki-chan will do great things.”

“Once I’m 30.”

Nico Yazawa considered. This was so new and 14 years from now, when Maki was a doctor and her trust vested, seemed as distant as the nearest star Nico could see. But Nico knew naming goals was the first step to achieving them, even if it seemed a wild fantasy.

“Nico will be there.” Not flashy, just quiet determination.

Nico heard Maki gulp. She was probably tearing up and couldn’t speak. Nico didn’t really expect her too. Sharing was such a new trust. But Maki’s hand carefully kept precise palm to palm contact with Nico’s. That said everything.

“Marry Nico.”

Maki sighed. “No one can know.”

“Okay.”

YAZAWA NICO FINISHES FIRST INTERNATIONAL TOUR WITH SPRING SPLASH IN HONOLULU

NISHIKINO MAKI BEGINS RONIN YEAR SOLO WORLD TOUR SURFING IN MAUI

Sunrise. Quiet beach. Her own choices. Is this what contentment felt like, Maki wondered. Finally, moments of quiet to listen for the important things. Leaning against her duffle and board, dressed in a striped rash guard, bright lavender board shorts, and a faded denim “You Are On Native Land” cap, Maki stretched, watching the horizon as a lone speck appeared in the distance, jogging toward her, not actually growing much as the distance closed, Maki thought with a private grin. Nico, running in an oversized hoodie and bikini bottom, gasped dramatically, reaching a hand for the water bottle Maki held out as a lure.

“Still running 5Ks every morning?”

“10K when I don’t have a concert or rehearsal. Nico is a boss.”

“Umi would be proud.”

Nico dropped and did ten fast pushups in the sand next to Maki, “Not if Nico told her it was only to make girls swoon.”

“Girls?” Maki arched an eyebrow, hand sweeping through her hair.

“Girl.”

“Fiancee.”

Nico laughed, rolling toward Maki, pulling her down into a playful, sandy kiss. “Ready to upgrade to trophy wife?”

“Yes.”

But there was no hurry that morning. Both had put their other lives on multiple 15 plus hour flights and fallen briefly off the grid to sit side by side on this hidden beach, the tide surging, a rare treasured morning to share.

“Went to the symphony last night. Monica Mancini sang, Henry Mancini’s daughter,” Nico hummed the Pink Panther theme, “Nice voice, more your thing than Nico’s though. She sang a lot of Johnny Mercer. And some new stuff. Nico was taking notes.”

“You’re great on stage Nico-chan, but I guess you can always learn from other performers.”

“Nico is learning songwriting.”

Maki pushed against Nico, “Going to try to get me to put Nico Nico Ni to music again.”

Nico’s mood turned serious, “I miss watching you play.”

“I miss playing.”

“When Nico gets her penthouse, there will be a baby grand.” Nico let her hand settle on Maki’s, “Working with a portable keyboard now. And Umi’s giving me advice, so many books...I’m so busy reading, there’s no time to party.”

“Good.”

“Hey, do you have any plans tomorrow night?”

Nico stared at Maki for a moment, but there was only earnestness in the amethyst staring back, “Not since you got here.”

“I’ve been talking with some of the elders, volunteering on Maui, learning about healing plants, and aloha ‘āina.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s really cool. I’m going to get Papa to invite some of the teachers and doctors I’ve met to give seminars for us. Aloha ‘āina means so many things, but it’s mostly being determined to take care of each other by taking care of the land. It’s very land based and tradition based, here in Hawai’i,” Maki picked up a handful of sand, “but it’s caring and not soft...exactly...when you meet Kai, he’ll explain it better. We’ve been invited for dinner, his uncle plays the ohe hano ihu.”

“What’s that?”

“ A nose flute, not for big concerts, more personal...Kai says his uncle has so many stories about it being used in courting rituals.”

“Is Maki-chan taking notes?”

“Maybe.” Ah, Maki’s sexy, best musician in the world grin. Nico missed that one a lot on the road. A killer cute band was no replacement for the brilliant, lovely pianist who’d so boldly wrapped Nico’s heart in music.

They were in the teasing phase now. “Do you have to keep courting a cute girl after marriage?”

Maki shoved into Nico again, “Well, duh…”

Joint laughter, rolling out to meet the tide.

“We’re getting married.” Maki said quietly.

“Just need to take our passports to pick up the license and go to the shrine. We filled out everything else online.” Nico glanced at her bare legs, “And Nico brought a kimono. Although Maki-chan looks sporty cute just like she is.”

Maki had a far off look, not paying much attention to Nico. Happy to wait ‘til Maki drifted back to the beach, Nico was going to enjoy memorizing her favorite scenery, Maki’s beautifully expressive face, now relaxed and open, thoughts waves and clouds in constant motion. Nico knew the solitude here allowed Maki to relax, there was no family pressure, their phones were off, nothing on either of their schedules for at least the rest of the week. A rare moment to sit with each other, sharing this beauty.

NISHIKINO REAL ESTATE GROUP BUYS LARGE LUXURY TOWER NEAR NISHIKINO MEDICAL CENTER

SUPERSTAR REFUSES TO GIVE UP PENTHOUSE APARTMENT TO NISHIKINO HEIR

Fast food. School girls lingering from Otonokizaka. Two people shoved into the booth furthest from the door and windows, sitting on the same bench, hip to hip, back to the rest of the room.

“So many memories in this place.” Nico unwrapped her burger.

“So many french fries.” Maki dipped a sample french fry in her chocolate milkshake.

“Another meal Nico paid for. You got rich not paying for food.”

“Hey! You were too proud to let me pay.”

“Nico is still too proud.” Nico tapped her fingers on the table. This late afternoon, for this clandestine meeting, they’d allowed themselves the indulgence of wearing their braided gold and platinum wedding band, Maki added the simple diamond Nico had bought her for their engagement.

“Is this going to work? Us actually living this close together without rumors starting?” Maki had been worrying. So many comments in the press and on social media.

“Everyone already has us at war. Nico’s a selfish poser, Maki’s a spoiled brat. Enemies to lovers.”

“Not funny, Nico-chan.”

“Nico will throw a huge party before I leave on my next tour. My new landlord will threaten very publically to throw me out of the building. Everything will flare up, but Maki-chan will continue to do boring future doctor things and by the time Nico gets back, all anyone will be talking about is Nico’s new album.”

“They’re not boring future doctor things.”

“No, they’re smart, saving the world future doctor things and Nico is so proud.” A quick kiss on Maki’s palm.

“Meanwhile…”

“Meanwhile, Umi and Eli install a secret hatch above the decorative staircase centerpiece of your expensively designed main room.”

“I’m going to miss you, Nico-chan.” Sadness.

Time to change the mood. Nico dipped a french fry in her strawberry shake and fed it to Maki. “How’s studying going?”

Maki leaned, chin in hand, frowny. “I could be more motivated.”

“So B?”

“A minus.”

“Nerd.”

“ ‘s dull." Maki said, chewing slowly. "But have to stay on track with the family benchmarks.”

“Yeah.” Nico decided to talk about happier things, “ooohh, did I tell you Eli’s setting up a foundation for Nico as her graduation project. We’ve already donated tickets to queer youth groups in every city on the tour and Nozomi’s setting up mentor programs.”

“Expect a large anonymous donation.”

“Expect a large not so anonymous thank you.”

“I’m just proud that you’re doing things to actually help people. I want to do more.”

“You’re studying to be a doctor, Maki-chan. That’s hard. Nico’s got it easy. All Nico has to do is” Nico went into her signature gesture, “Nico Nico Ni and everything gets brighter.” Nico suddenly remembered she shouldn’t have let her catch phrase out full voice during what was supposed to be a secret meeting, but this was a low traffic period so no one seemed to notice.

“I couldn’t get that out of my head, the first time I saw you do it. It was annoying.”

“But you loved Nico.” Nico snuggled closer, enjoying a chance to feel Maki next to her.

“But I loved Nico, all of Nico, the bold, brash, terrible liar, the kind, caring sister, the determined ally and friend, the hard working and talented performer.”

“Nico wasn’t a liar, Nico was an optimist.”

“Private chef,” Maki cough giggled.

Nico grabbed the french fries as Maki reached for another one, “Confiscated for cheekiness.”

“Give me those.” Maki grabbed, Nico dodged, french fries flew loose and they giggled their way through the next few minutes until Nico leaned forward to whisper in Maki’s ear.

“So are your parents still in New York City?”

Gulping, suddenly completely flustered, Maki nodded.

Nico bounced up, offering a gallant hand, “Nico will walk you home.”

“Fancy.”

“Only the best for Mrs. Yazawa.”

“That would be Mrs. Nishikino.”

“We’ll wrestle. Nico will win.”

“Optimist.”

Nico’s hand on Maki’s waist was a gentle guide into the autumn night, two hats pulled down, two collars pulled up, Nico in a mask to protect her voice. “Wait and see.”

Maki leaned into Nico. This night, unlike too many others recently, felt just right.

HEAD OF THE NISHIKINO MEDICAL GROUP COLLAPSES, HOSPITALIZED

NICO NI NEW YEAR’S CHARITY CONCERT SELLS OUT IN MINUTES

Nico had never been so sick. She’d lost count of the medicines she was taking to sleep at night, and then the additional ones added to get her through tonight’s concert. Then she could rest. Go to her Mama’s house and get babied for a bit. Maki had been so sad at Christmas, with too many family obligations to fly to Los Angeles. Nico had gotten through their Christmas Eve quick chat and then collapsed, barely moving until yesterday’s rehearsal, which wiped her out.

Pounding on her hotel room door. What the hell? Phone pinged, the Maki-tone.

“Open your door, Nico--chan.” Maki sounded angry. Was she pounding? Nico felt even fuzzier, slumping to the door, opening it to fall against a tall, angry Maki, beanie over her hair, sunglasses, and a mask.

“Nico-chan?” Now Maki’s voice sounded tearful.

“Hi, Mrs. Yazawa.” Nico croaked out, hoping to make Maki at least giggle.

Strong arms swept her up, Maki striding across the room, putting Nico gently down on the bed, Maki immediately examining every bottle by Nico’s bedside, “What kind of quack put you on all this?”

“Don’t know.”

“Don’t know? You don’t know.”

“Trainer found ‘em…recommended.”

“You should be in a hospital.” Maki’s voice broke.

“Concert, charity, millions. Nico Nico Ni.” Nico had no idea if what she was saying made sense.

“Cancel. Refund. I’ll make a bigger donation.”

“Nico is a trooper.”

“Nico is a zombie. What the hell kind of irresponsible moron gave you all this?” Maki crashed all the bottles to the floor. “Did they inject you with anything?”

“It’s LA, Maki-chan, the beautiful people never stop.” Nico coughed. It hurt like 50 Umi arrows to the chest, “Nico is a beautiful people.”

“Nico-chan…” Maki was kneeling next to the bed, desperation and weariness lining her face. She’d never travelled well, Nico realized.

Nico managed to flip so she was on her side, managing to smile at Maki, “Hey pretty girl.”

“I am going to sue that quack into despair and destitution.”

Nico blinked, suddenly aware that Maki should be in Tokyo. “Why are you here, Maki-chan?.”

“Hanayo heard a rumor…”

“Did anyone see you?”

“I don’t care.” Maki’s head dropped to the bed, “Papa collapsed...and you’re like this and hiding it from me…and letting some greedy idiot try to kill you...if anything happens to you, Nico-chan…” And the tears, Nico could feel them as she reached for Maki, hot, heavy, rolling off pale cheeks.

“Nico will be fine.”

Maki shook her head.

“Look at me, Maki-chan.”

Maki raised her head. Her eyes were bright. She was always so bright, so caring, her native prickliness a fortification against all the emotions Maki didn’t know how to process.

“I will be fine.”

Maki surged up, her arms drawing in Nico, whose heart was really not rested enough for tackled into bed by the redhead of her dreams. “Maki-chan, you’re going to hug Nico to death.”

“Don’t say that.” Maki’s arm twitched for a minute like she was going to shove Nico away, but then Nico found herself pressed as closely as she’d ever been against a clothed Maki, which would have been amazing if she could breathe. So Nico let a cough out and Maki loosened her hold.

“Let Nico sleep.”

“Okay. But I’m not going anywhere.”

Nico had closed her eyes, muttering, “...love you.”

“I love you too, Nico-chan.”

A-RISE STEPS IN AT LAST MINUTE FOR NICO NI

NISHIKINO MAKI CHECKING OUT STANFORD RESEARCH FACILITIES, POSSIBLE PARTNERSHIP

Nico is officially spoiled. Another morning waking up to Maki curled up by her side...She’d shipped everyone else back to Japan, tour over, a solid break until Nico’s doctor cleared her for rehearsal. Nico sat up, teasing tumbles of red hair, Maki had been very clear that Nico had to clear the steroids out of her system first. But at least Maki hadn’t banned other forms of exercise.

“I’m not asleep, Nico-chan.” Maki mumbled, sounding totally still asleep.

“Thanks for coming to rescue Nico.”

“Don’t make me do it again. I might have to go back to school.”

“I thought you were joining the Board Of Directors ahead of schedule?”

Maki opened her eyes, stretching, “Order pancakes. And bacon. And orange juice. And muffins.”

“Brunch in bed.”

“I’m not leaving until I have to.”

Nico reached down to kiss Maki’s forehead, “It’s been nice having you here.”

“Then come home.”

“Nico is working on it.”

Maki raised an eyebrow. Nico sounded excited. “Is there something I don’t know about?”

“It was supposed to be your Christmas surprise, but Nico’s agent was still negotiating.”

What could Nico’s agent be negotiating that would be a Christmas surprise for Maki?

“I’m going be the main character in a TV drama, based in Tokyo.”

“Really?”

“Really. I didn’t get to be there when your Dad ended up in the hospital and I’m so sorry…I knew you needed me, but...this is our life...” Maki nodded as Nico gestured at the hotel suite, continuing, “And I knew you were going to be super busy with family stuff so I pitched an idea and two production companies jumped on board. Nico is taking a paycut and ownership, but all you’ll have to do is come upstairs and Nico will be right there, at least for six months.”

“Nico-chan…” Maki sat up.

Nico put her arm and pulled Maki in, Maki dropping her head to Nico’s shoulder, “We get through the tough stuff together, Maki-chan. We always have. I love you.”

“Love you.” Maki was falling asleep again. Nico would add coffee to their brunch order. Maki had to be awake enough to sneak out and catch a plane.

YAZAWA NICO TO STAR IN DOCTOR SMILE

DOCTOR NISHIKINO MAKI TAKES OVER FAMILY MEDICAL PRACTICE

If she didn’t have Nico, Maki would probably just live with a grand piano, a huge bathtub, and a couch to eat take out on, Nico thought as she sank into lavender scented steaming water.

“It’s not funny, Rin. And I don’t need weekly updates about who Nico’s kissing on the show.” Maki sounded aggravated. Nico giggled. She’d come home early from a weekend meet the fans event and snuck into Maki’s luxury tub to recover. Candles were lit, Idol music popping.

“Wait a minute, Rin. I think…” Maki’s steps sounded hasty and she was suddenly in the door of the bathroom.

Nico winked. “Hi Maki!”

Maki made a grumbly noise and turned sideways, “No, I’m okay, Rin. There’s just a surprise in my bathtub…” Maki glanced at Nico, “Rin says hi. And you have to stop using my cases, Nico-chan.”

“Did Rin say that? And who says Nico does?”

Maki glared, “Where do you even get your information?”

Nico raised a finger to her lips and winked.

“And that red wig. It’s awful. People think you’re making fun of me.” Maki listened to her phone. “Shut up, Rin.” And the phone went in her coat pocket.

“What did Rin say?”

“Nvermind.” Maki muttered.

“Maki-chan…” Nico splashed at Maki.

“No one would ever call me Dr. Smile.”

Nico guffawed, slapping water everywhere. “I miss Rin.”

“If I had Umi’s bow, I wouldn’t.”

“You love her.” Nico leaned back, watching her wife, who had flopped on the nearby chaise. “So who thinks Nico is making fun of you?”

“Papa.”

“PFfffffff…who cares.”

Maki glared, ‘“We’re trying to keep his stress levels low.”

“Red headed doctors are the best.”

“But I like your hair; it looks like you.”

“But our daughter will look like Dr. Smile.”

That threw Maki’s train of thought completely askew. The closest she could get was imagining Cotaro when she first met him with bright red hair.

“I wonder if our children will look like you? All your siblings do.”

“And they’re cute. But our children will be NicoMaki cute. I’ve seen your baby pictures, you were adorable.” Nico leaned back, smiling up at Maki. “Nico can’t wait to have a family to come home to.”

“You have me.”

“And I love it.” Nico blew lavender scented bubbles at Maki, “But you, me, the cutest children ever in the universe, and Christmas morning.”

Maki couldn’t keep the huge grin back. “I can tell them all about Santa-san.”

“But we’re not spoiling them too much.”

Maki pouted at Nico.

Nico giggled, “That’s what our parents will do.”

Maki got up, taking off her coat, sliding out of her jacket, unbuttoning her shirt halfway and slipping out of her pants. Then she sat on the edge of the tub, feet in the water, toes teasing Nico’s legs. “You’re going to tour less, right.”

“Nico’s not touring now. You’re going to cut down your hours, right, Maki-chan.”

“Just started the search for an Executive Director. And put the LGBTQ+ Health Centers proposal on the fast track.”

Nico leaned over, her chin on Maki’s thigh, “We’ve worked really hard for this.”

“We have.”

“I think Mama knows.”

Maki laughed, “It was that morning she surprised us at breakfast, wasn’t it?”

For once, Nico was the one blushing. “Nico needs…” Nico’s arm slipped under Maki’s shirt, a casual touch on Maki’s back, “more elegant pajamas for entertaining company.”

“No you don’t.”

“You like it when Nico borrows your shirt.”

“No, I love it when Nico-chan borrows my shirt.”

“Nico loves your pajamas.” Nico’s fingers started tracing patterns.

“Ha!” Keeping her cool with Nico this close had always been impossible so Maki just lowered herself into the water, pausing for a messy, wet kiss, “Let’s skip dinner.”

NISHIKINO MAKI AND YAZAWA NICO: DETAILS OF THEIR WHIRLWIND COURTSHIP AND MARRIAGE

The interviewer leaned forward as Maki ran a hand through her hair. She was relaxed in a light gray Tadashi Shoji corded lace sheath dress, and confidently answered her question, “It was a long day, my eyes were so tired everything was blurry and I got in the wrong elevator. Nico had just gotten pics of the Ayase twins and we started talking about high school.”

“Talking?” Nico snorted, standing behind Maki, hands in the pockets of bright pink Victoria Beckham trousers, the matching blazer falling open, “It was all Nico’s sex appeal. Nico is irresistible.”

Maki leaned her head back, a private smile for Nico, “Nico is irresistible.”

“Is it irresponsible to take so much time off from your responsibilities to take a world tour honeymoon and then start a family?”

Nico chuckled, her hands on Maki’s shoulder, “We’ve planned carefully. And they’re our businesses. Nico never understood people working themselves to death, not taking time for family. We want to change corporate culture.”

“You’ve always been ambitious, Nico. What’s your next project?”

Nico winked, “That’s just between us.”

“No hints for our viewers, Maki?”

Nico leaned down, arms around Maki’s shoulders, whispering something in her ear. Maki’s full, flaring blush could have been a picture from high school. The interviewer laughed.

“Nice to see you two worked out the Penthouse Wars.”

“Nico is a reasonable person.”

Maki threw back her head, laughing, “Sure, that’s why.”

“Well, Nico is certainly a top…”

“Nico-chan!”

“I love you, Maki-chan.” Giggling, Nico kissed her wife’s cheek.

Nico might have been the only one to hear Maki’s muttered, “I love you, Nico-chan.” But it had always been true.

A/N: Another AU Yeah August request, it started out as Married Rivals, but I was reading a Dolly Parton songwriting book and in the songs about love chapter there were these lyrics from "Between Us":

In our love let's share a friendship between us Always close enough to talk things out Let's be honest with ourselves and each other And our love will never know mistrust or doubt

So I just started writing conversations.

#NicoMaki #Nishikino Maki #Yazawa Nico #married #married life #fluff #minor illness and angst #au yeah august

[heartofether]

Episode 15 - Elderberries TRANSCRIPT

[You can listen to the show wherever you get your podcasts, or go to our “Listen” page if you’re on desktop.]

AUTOMATED VOICE

[LOWER-PITCHED AND SLOWER THAN NORMAL] Please state your message.

[THEME SONG PLAYS.]

VAL

Three-eyed Frog Presents: The Heart of Ether.

[THEME SONG FADES TO A STOP.]

[PHONE BEEP.]

[INT. THE POPPY GARDEN MOTEL, AGENT MAY AND JUNES’ ROOM, EARLY MORNING.]

AGENT JUNE

Oh, is it on? I dunno how this recording device works. Would have been, like, ten times easier to just record on our phones, but, eh.

Anyways, it’s just me right now, which means I get to do all the talking. Guess I should, I dunno, talk about the mission? Daughtler?

Oh! I know. There’s this candy store downtown that displays massive gummy bears in the window, only it’s so hot outside that the bears have started melting. It’s some mix of disturbing, but also hilarious? Seriously, those bears look so sad, I can’t help but laugh.

Let’s see. Say, what’s that stupid thing he always says? [DRAMATICALLY MOCKING AGENT MAY] This is Operation Saturn, phase 1.2. Conducted by Agents May and June. All recordings are property of the—

[AS AGENT JUNE TALKS, THE DOOR IS HEARD OPENING AND CLOSING. THERE ARE FOOTSTEPS AS AGENT MAY WALKS IN.]

AGENT MAY

Here’s your coffee.

AGENT JUNE

Much obliged! Oh, you got it with oat milk, right?

AGENT MAY

[SLIGHTLY BITTER] It cost extra, but yes.

AGENT JUNE

Aw, hell yeah.

[AGENT JUNE TAKES HIS DRINK.]

AGENT MAY

I’ve never understood the excitement behind alternative milks.

AGENT JUNE

Hey, I’m lactose intolerant. Not that that would stop me from consuming dairy in most scenarios, but oat milk hits, alright? You should give it a shot.

AGENT MAY

I don’t put milk in my coffee, just sugar.

AGENT JUNE

Mm. Gross.

AGENT MAY

[HE HUFFS A SIGH.] Well, I’ll stop judging your coffee order if you stop judging mine.

AGENT JUNE

I’ll agree to that, sure.

[HE TAKES A SIP, THEN] See anything of note in the coffeeshop?

AGENT MAY

[UNCOMFORTABLY] Maybe. There was this girl sitting at a table. She was wearing all-black, which is strange considering the weather.

AGENT JUNE

Uh, ever heard of fashion? Dude, you literally wear a suit every day! No wonder you overheat. I mean, why do you think I skip the blazer?

AGENT MAY

[IRRITATED] At least I wear my tie correctly.

AGENT JUNE

I leave it undone on purpose, alright? It’s a statement.

AGENT MAY

Do you know how to tie a tie?

AGENT JUNE

[DEFENSIVE] Yes!

[AN UNCOMFORTABLY LONG PAUSE.]

AGENT JUNE

So, there was this girl in the coffeeshop.

AGENT MAY

She seemed fairly young. Must have been in either high school or college. She was staring at me over her laptop the whole time. Like she was, I don’t know, stalking prey. It was like her eyes were knives, and she was trying to carve my flesh off.

AGENT JUNE

So, she defo wasn’t just idly looking or whatever. Like, you’re pretty sure she was thinking about killing you?

AGENT MAY

Well, there’s no way I can know for certain, now, is there?

[A BEAT.] She was wearing a black fabric surgical mask, though.

[A TENSE PAUSE.]

AGENT JUNE

Do you think she was—?

AGENT MAY

I can’t say for sure.

AGENT JUNE

I mean, it might have been an accessory, but we’re in Daughtler, Washington—

AGENT MAY

I’m not going back there to check. Okay? If we see her again, maybe we can consider interviewing her, but I don’t feel comfortable going back to see her.

AGENT JUNE

[UNDERSTANDING] Alright.

[AGENT MAY SIGHS.]

AGENT JUNE

[CONT.] Alright. I won’t force you.

AGENT MAY

I—I appreciate that.

[THERE'S A PAUSE.]

AGENT JUNE

Uh, how’d you sleep?

AGENT MAY

About as well as I could in a car seat.

AGENT JUNE

Okay, I can’t just keep letting you sleep in the car. It was kind of funny at first, but now I just— [HIS SENTENCE TRAILS OFF IN VAGUE STUTTERS.]

AGENT MAY

[BEAT.] Well?

AGENT JUNE

I feel bad! Alright? I mean, look at me, I have this whole room to myself, and meanwhile, my partner is sleeping in a company vehicle that may or may not have bloodstains in the backseat.

[BEAT, THEN] Actually, I’d love to talk about those weird dark stains later, because uh, what, but I’ll let it slide for now. It’s still gotta be super uncomfortable, though.

AGENT MAY

We could always take turns.

AGENT JUNE

No, what I’m saying is I don’t think either of us have to sleep in the car! There has got to be a better solution.

AGENT MAY

The Foundation already declined giving us a second room, or trying to transfer us to a larger one. Trust me, I tried.

AGENT JUNE

Dammit.

[A LONG PAUSE.]

AGENT JUNE

It's king-sized, you know.

[ANOTHER LONG PAUSE.]

AGENT MAY

Do you think the motel has spare blankets? I think I could try sleeping on the floor.

[THOUGH UNSEEN, AGENT JUNE LOOKS INTO THE CAMERA LIKE HE’S IN THE OFFICE.]

AGENT MAY

…I’ll go down and ask later.

AGENT JUNE

Good idea.

[A BEAT. THERE'S SUIT RUSTLING AS AGENT MAY CHECKS HIS WATCH.]

AGENT MAY

We should head out soon.

AGENT JUNE

You’re really glued to that watch of yours, huh?

AGENT MAY

Excuse me?

AGENT JUNE

Not that it’s bad, you just check it a lot. I don’t really know what watch etiquette is, but I think you look at it more than most people do. I’ve also noticed you tend to look at it more around specific times? Is there a reason, or—?

AGENT MAY

[MORE SERIOUS THAN THE CONVERSATION WARRANTS] It’s none of your business. Perhaps I simply prefer to keep on schedule. Let’s go.

AGENT JUNE

[SLIGHTLY CONFUSED] Oh, um, okay. Sorry. [UNDER HIS BREATH] Jeez. Let me just—

[PHONE BEEP.]

[RECORDING ENDS.]

[ANOTHER BEEP.]

[INT. THE OPEN EYES BOOKSTORE BACKROOM, EARLY, EARLY MORNING.]

HOLLY

Are you recording?

PHOEBE

Yes, yes, I am.

HOLLY

Kind of weird to be doing this so early in the morning.

PHOEBE

I’m sorry, I know it’s super early. Night just felt…well, it felt more dangerous, I guess? Even Grandma Doe recommended not doing it too late. I wanted to get it done before the shop opened, though.

HOLLY

Oh no, I don’t mind. I guess people usually just consider night to be “the witching hour.”

PHOEBE

This isn’t really witchcraft, though, is it?

HOLLY

Guess not. Most modern witchcraft is a lot more…chill, I guess?

PHOEBE

Right. [A BEAT.] Do you think it’s really a good idea to be doing this in the back room?

HOLLY

Well, it’s not like we have anywhere else. It’d be super shady if we did it right outside, and your forestry friend would be pissed if we went out into the woods to do it.

PHOEBE

[NERVOUS] There’s so much paper, though. I mean, we could easily set the whole thing alight. My apartment’s really small, I know, but maybe we could—?

HOLLY

Don’t worry about it. We did a pretty good job clearing stuff out to make space, I think. It should be fine, I mean, a lot of the most flammable stuff either got moved out or shoved against the wall.

Besides, didn’t she say that it might be good to do it here for like, symbolic purposes?

PHOEBE

Yeah. Yeah, I guess you’re right. [SHE CHUCKLES.] Maybe this will finally give me incentive to organize everything.

HOLLY

[SHE LAUGHS, SOMEWHAT NERVOUSLY.] If this works, then hopefully you’ll be able to do that anyways.

PHOEBE

That’s true, yes. I, um, guess we should get started. Can you read the directions?

HOLLY

Of course.

[HOLLY IS HEARD UNFOLDING A PIECE OF PAPER.]

HOLLY

[READING] The purpose of all of this is energy. You are lighting fire to produce energy. You are grinding berries and eating them to produce it as well. Ether functions under this key desire for vitality. If you can understand this simple principle, this keen need it has, it will treat you much more kindly.

By designing this ritual for you, my hope is that it will spell out as clear as day to Ether what you are trying to achieve. It rarely gives people what they want, rather it gives what it sees fit for them. You must steer it in the correct direction, or else it will choose a different fate for you.

These instructions are similar to what Valencia and I did, as well as symbolic for what you hope to achieve. However, nobody has ever developed an exact science for how these rituals function. We may only rely on guesswork and hope. While I would like to develop more specific procedures and instructions, I do not know if I ever will. Perhaps that could be your task.

[BREAKING READING] Could I skip her whole monologue? We already read it, and I don’t think it’s important in-the-moment.

PHOEBE

Sure.

HOLLY

Cool.

[SHE FLIPS THE PAPER.]

HOLLY

Materials needed: Yarn or string to create a casting circle. Some people use salt, but it produces an awful mess. Several circles of yarn around you and your workspace will work just fine.

PHOEBE

We did that already.

HOLLY

Yup. [READING AGAIN] Three white candles with words carved into them. It does not matter what the words are, they simply have to be legible and completely cover the candle. No numbers. I just wrote out song lyrics on that one.

PHOEBE

Oh, that’s neat! I, um, did poems I like.

HOLLY

Cute. [A BEAT.] A lighter or match of some kind. Someplace to safely burn paper—we got a metal bin, so we’re good. Did you turn off the smoke alarm?

PHOEBE

I did, yeah.

HOLLY

Let’s hope the place doesn’t burn down, then. [CHUCKLE, THEN] I’m joking, I promise. It should be fine. [SHE CLEARS HER THROAT.]

A book—you will be tearing out each individual page, so to save time, I suggest a children’s book. A bowl or container of some kind. Elderberries, I recommend you cook them beforehand, but make sure none of them are pre-mashed. Something to mash the elderberries with. Finally, a few drops of your blood, or something to draw blood with. That’s what the sewing needle is for, right? You sure you don’t want a blade? I have a pocket knife.

PHOEBE

[UNCOMFORTABLE] I get nervous around knives, but thank you for the offer.

Oh—actually, I wanted to ask, um, where did you find elderberries? I couldn’t find them anywhere.

HOLLY

I asked the bartender down the street.

PHOEBE

Huh.

HOLLY

Yeah, they make all sorts of weird cocktails. Are you ready? Once we start, we can’t stop until it’s complete.

PHOEBE

[WITH WEIGHT, NERVOUS, BUT DETERMINED] I’m ready.

HOLLY

Okay.

[HOLLY FLIPS THE PAPER AGAIN. THERE’S A PAUSE.]

HOLLY

Phoebe?

PHOEBE

Yeah?

HOLLY

Whatever happens, I—we’ll be okay, alright? No matter what. I’ll make sure of it, I swear.

PHOEBE

[TENDERLY] Thank you.

[THERE’S A PAUSE AS THEY ARE HEARD KISSING. HOLLY TAKES A DEEP BREATH.]

HOLLY

Create a circle around— Okay, we already did that. Um, Start by lighting the candles.

[PHOEBE IS HEARD LIGHTING A MATCH AND LIGHTING ALL THREE CANDLES.]

HOLLY

Tear each individual piece of paper out of the book. One by one, burn each piece of paper using fire from the candles. Once you have burned each page, burn the cover. Do not attempt to put any of the fires out. This tedious process shows care and dedication. The blood in later steps is there for a similar purpose.

[PHOEBE IS HEARD TEARING PAGES OUT OF A CHILDREN’S BOOK AND LIGHTING THEM ON FIRE. THERE’S A LONG PAUSE AS SHE DOES SO.]

PHOEBE

Good thing this book only has twenty pages. [A BEAT.] What’s next?

[PHOEBE IS STILL TEARING PAPER IN THE BACKGROUND, AND THE BURNING SFX GOES ON FOR SOME TIME.]

HOLLY

Uh—place your elderberries in the bowl and begin mashing them in a clockwise motion. As you do this, speak out loud and ask Ether to grant you knowledge and the ability to see what others do not. There should be no misunderstanding in what you are trying to achieve, and if you have garnered Ether’s attention, it should have already decided what it shall do with you. [MUTTERS] Fuckin’ weird.

[PHOEBE CEASES HER PAGE-TEARING.]

PHOEBE

The book is done. Pass me the spice grinder with the berries?

[HOLLY PASSES PHOEBE THE SPICE GRINDER.]

PHOEBE

Thank you.

[PHOEBE IS HEARD GRINDING THE ELDERBERRIES.]

PHOEBE

[WHISPERING TO HERSELF] Ether, um, whoever or whatever you are, if you are listening to me, please grant me knowledge. Grant me the power to see what others do not. Let me see and know everything.

[THERE IS A RINGING HEARD IN THE BACKGROUND AS HOLLY SPEAKS.]

HOLLY

If this works, the words on the candle should begin to—holy—God!

[HOLLY STUMBLES BACK.]

PHOEBE

Glow?

HOLLY

[FREAKING OUT] Yup? Uh—they’re actually glowing, what the—

PHOEBE

[OVERLAPPING] What’s next?

HOLLY

Sorry, sorry. [SHE RUFFLES THE PAPER IN HER HAND.] Mix a few drops of your blood into the elderberries.

PHOEBE

Pass me the sewing needle.

[HOLLY PASSES PHOEBE THE NEEDLE. SHE PRICKS HER FINGER.]

PHOEBE

[UNDER HER BREATH] Ow.

[SHE LETS A FEW DROPS COME OUT, SUCKS ON HER FINGER BRIEFLY, THEN MIXES HER BLOOD IN.]

HOLLY

Drink the elderberry mash. You must consume every bit of it, or at least as much as you can.

PHOEBE

[GROWING IN A MIX OF PANIC AND EXCITEMENT] This is it—I mean—wait, I’m about to consume my blood, that’s weird, but—this is really it.

HOLLY

[ENCOURAGING] You can do it.

[PHOEBE IS HEARD DRINKING THE ELDERBERRY MASH. THERE IS A PAUSE.]

HOLLY

If successful, the candles will—

[THE CANDLES ARE HEARD EXTINGUISHING.]

HOLLY

…blow out.

PHOEBE

[SLIGHTLY SICK] I think I got it all.

HOLLY

How do you feel? Is—has anything changed?

PHOEBE

I feel…I feel like there’s a part of me that was never there before. Like, my internal self expands farther out than my physical self, like I’m floating, it’s—I need to go lie down.

HOLLY

I’ll take you upstairs. It worked, though?

PHOEBE

I think it did. I mean, Grandma Doe said I would feel some sort of immediate change, but the rest of it would trickle in slowly. I feel different, though.

HOLLY

[SLOWLY, CAUTIOUS] Does this mean you’re not human anymore?

PHOEBE

[A BEAT.] I haven’t thought about that. I mean, I think I might just kind of be human plus? I’m not sure. Grandma Doe was still mortal, after all—she felt pain, she got ill—her mind was just super advanced. Does that make me inhuman?

HOLLY

I…I don’t think so. I think you just have mind powers or whatever.

PHOEBE

I’ll think about it later. I’m just going to try to get some sleep before the shop opens.

HOLLY

You don’t even have to open today, you know. People will understand if you just say you’re ill. Or I could run it for today, since there’s usually less traction on weekdays.

PHOEBE

[SINCERE] Thank you.

HOLLY

Of course.

PHOEBE

[SHE SIGHS.] Okay, time to—

[PHONE BEEP.]

[RECORDING ENDS.]

[ANOTHER PHONE BEEP.]

[INT. IRENE’S HOUSE, MIDDAY.]

IRENE

I just got home from work. Apparently, Phoebe did that ritual early this morning. It went well, from what Holly told me, though Phoebe’s been taking the day off to rest.

Oh, and they also posted that advert on the bulletin board yesterday. You know, for someone to develop Valencia’s film.

That’s not important right now. You know what is important?

This morning, at work, I opened up a folder on my computer and guess what was in it? A new audio recording where there shouldn’t be one. Guess the technological gods have decided to be generous today.

I decided to wait until I got off to listen to it. It’s dated shortly after the incident, so I think it might be important.

Besides, work has been…well, different, since the Spread. I haven’t told Carol or Aden that’s what it’s called, though. The whole incident brought us closer together, but I think that’s a double-edged sword. They know me well enough, now, I think they can tell I’m hiding something. Aden definitely knows I am—I mean, what I told him was pretty cryptic, but Carol I think just…knows. She’s just like that. [SCOFF] Maybe that’s part of her motherly instincts.

Right, that’s beside the point. Back to the recording.

Here goes nothing.

[IRENE CLICKS ON THE FILE.]

[PHONE BEEP.]

[INT. DRIVING, LATE AT NIGHT.]

[THERE IS THE AMBIANCE OF DRIVING DOWN A DESOLATE FOREST ROAD AS THEY TALK.]

UNKNOWN GIRL

Does it work?

ROSE

I believe so.

UNKNOWN GIRL

[SHE SNORTS.] About as well as a cheap cell phone from Walmart could, I imagine?

ROSE

It just has to be able to record and make emergency calls. I’m not too worried about it. Thank you, again. Really, I owe you.

UNKNOWN GIRL

Hey, I didn’t buy it. I just walked into the store and handed your money to the guy behind the counter. It’s not a big deal.

[DULLY SKEPTICAL] You’re trying pretty hard to cover up your tracks, you know. Destroying your phone, not wanting to be seen in public to go get a new one, only paying in cash. Almost makes it sound like you’re a criminal or something.

ROSE

[FRANTIC] I’m not! I swear, I’m not.

UNKNOWN GIRL

No need to get defensive. Look, I get it. We all have reasons to want to disappear. I’m surely in no position to judge.

You know, I know we haven’t known each other for long, but I feel like we might actually have a lot in common.

ROSE

Why is that?

UNKNOWN GIRL

We both don’t know where we’re going, or why.

ROSE

[UNDER HER BREATH] Oh, I know why.

UNKNOWN GIRL

So you do have a reason?

ROSE

It’s not a big deal.

UNKNOWN GIRL

Your secret’s safe with me, you know.

ROSE

It’s nothing. Really. Just…do you have to know or—?

UNKNOWN GIRL

Well, do I have any reason to?

ROSE

No, but do you even have a reason to be helping me?

UNKNOWN GIRL

[DEADPAN] What can I say? I’m a generous soul.

[A BEAT.] Say, why did you want something to record with, anyways?

ROSE

I, um—it’s stupid.

UNKNOWN GIRL

Try me.

ROSE

It’s—well. I guess I don’t want to be forgotten? I want some way for people to find out what happened to me when…if…you know. There’s…if something does happen to me, there’s at least one person who deserves to know.

UNKNOWN GIRL

You think you’re going to get yourself killed?

ROSE

I don’t know. I suppose it’s better to be safe than sorry?

UNKNOWN GIRL

But you have someone you know will want to listen. [CONNECTING THE DOTS] You weren’t a loner before you left, were you? You left someone important behind, and now you feel bad. You owe them an explanation.

ROSE

[UNCOMFORTABLY] Yes. Right. I guess.

[A BEAT.] I don’t want to talk about this anymore.

UNKNOWN GIRL

Who did you abandon?

ROSE

[RAISING HER VOICE SLIGHTLY] I said I’m done.

UNKNOWN GIRL

Alright, alright.

[A BEAT.] If it makes you feel better, I’ll let you prod at me a bit.

ROSE

[HESITANT] Where did you get your name? Wednesday is such a unique name, I don’t think I’ve ever heard it outside of stories.

WEDNESDAY [UNKNOWN GIRL]

It’s certainly no ‘Mary,’ is it?

ROSE

I mean, obviously. My name’s pretty basic.

WEDNESDAY

I actually chose it after I left home. Not like that, just never liked the name my parents gave me. Kept the last name ‘White,’ though. It has a ring to it.

ROSE

Was there a reason for it, or did it just sound nice?

WEDNESDAY

When people meet someone with a weird name, that tends to be the thing that most grabs their attention. “I met a girl named after a day of the week today, isn’t that bizarre?” I didn’t want to be remembered for anything I didn’t want people to see. If one thing was going to stick with them, it would be my name, but not quite the face that goes with it. Just the girl with an odd name.

ROSE

So you want to be forgotten?

WEDNESDAY

Not forgotten, but I want control over the memory of me. I want to fade away into obscurity, but not obscure enough that it’s suspicious.

ROSE

[KIND OF UNCOMFORTABLE] You’ve thought about this a lot.

WEDNESDAY

When you’re like me, you have to.

ROSE

Wh—what does that—

WEDNESDAY

[OVERLAPPING] Do you need me to stop at the gas station up ahead?

[THERE’S A SLIGHTLY TOO LONG PAUSE.]

ROSE

Um, yeah, I have to—

[PHONE BEEP.]

[RECORDING ENDS.]

[INT. IRENE’S HOUSE, EARLY EVENING, THE SAME DAY.]

[THERE’S A LONG PAUSE.]

IRENE

[STILL PROCESSING IT AS SHE SPEAKS.] Okay. Okay! This is definitely a start. A great start, actually!

Okay, let’s see, uh—after you ran away, you destroyed your phone—no wonder the police couldn’t track it—and then you went with some person named Wednesday.

That’s definitely a start. If I can figure out where Wednesday—White, was it?—yeah, Wednesday White. I know Wednesday probably isn’t her legal name, but I might still be able to find her somewhere. If I can find Wednesday White, I might have a good shot at finding you. That’s great news!

[A SLIGHTLY TOO LONG PAUSE.]

IRENE

[HER ENTHUSIASM DYING] I don’t trust Wednesday, though.

[A BEAT.] Okay, maybe I shouldn’t be so skeptical. I mean, you’re not an idiot, Rose. You wouldn’t hitch hike with just any random stranger. Would you? Doesn’t even seem like you gave her your real name, she called you ‘Mary.’

[SHE HUFFS A SIGH.] Maybe I’m just being defensive. Still, she seemed off, didn’t she? That whole thing she said about her name just kind of rubbed me the wrong way. She prodded a lot, too. Almost as if she wanted to make you uncomfortable.

I could be reading into it too much. I guess I won’t know until I find her. Hopefully, she didn’t fade into obscurity too much. There’s gotta be some record of her existence online. If I’m lucky, she might be on social media or something. Who knows? Lots of time has passed.

[A PAUSE, THEN, SOFTLY] That person, you—were you recording for me? You wanted me to know you hadn’t abandoned me on purpose. [HURT] And here I was, thinking you would just leave without reason. That you had betrayed me in some way. I’m—Rose, I’m so sorry—

[JUST AS SHE SAYS “SORRY,” HER PHONE BEGINS VIBRATING. SHE PICKS IT UP.]

IRENE

[SKEPTICAL] There’s an unknown number calling me.

[SHE ANSWERS.]

IRENE

Hello?

CALLER

Hello? Is this the person who posted an ad outside of Open Eyes Bookstore?

IRENE

Oh! Um, yeah, that’s me. Wow, I didn’t expect to hear from someone so fast.

CALLER

I’m an observant person. I like to make my rounds throughout the town. You’ll never know what you’ll find, after all. Or who.

Anyways, you have some film that needs to be developed, right? Well, it just so happens to be your lucky day, because I have a dark room.

IRENE

That’s fantastic. I can pay you however much you want, just—

CALLER

[OVERLAPPING] Oh, that won’t be necessary. I’m studying photography, so the experience is payment enough. No worries!

IRENE

That’s very kind of you, thank you.

CALLER

Of course!

Oh, where are my manners? My name is Sadie. Sadie Creed. And you are…?

IRENE

Irene.

SADIE

Irene! How cute. Where do you want me to pick up your film?

IRENE

Um, I’m sorry if this sounds rude, but I would prefer to meet out in the open? Is that a problem?

SADIE

Not at all. How about Lemongrass Park?

IRENE

That’s actually perfect, yeah.

SADIE

Great! I’m happy to meet you tomorrow night at 8:00, if that time works for you? I know that’s a bit late, but I work at the candy shop until then.

IRENE

That should be fine, yeah.

SADIE

Looking forward to it! Pleasure doing business with you, Irene. Bye-bye!

[SADIE HANGS UP.]

IRENE

Huh. Well, I guess that solves that.

Time to go find Wednesday White.

[PHONE BEEP.]

[RECORDING ENDS.]

AUTOMATED VOICE

Today's quote is: A wave of grass engraves upon the stone: ‘There is more than one good way to drown.’

Sylvia Plath in "Epitaph in Three Parts," 1955.

[OUTRO MUSIC AND CREDITS PLAY.]

MICRO-COSMOS PROMOTIONAL AD [written by Jesse Smith]

[THERE ARE STATIC NOISES.]

ATHENA

This is Communications Athena Romero of OEC #0137-F recording from a… still, unknown location on the infant planet Ophiuchus-22. Though I have my… well, rational, doubts, something in me feels as though this transmission might actually be reaching someone. Might just be desperation, though. Most likely just desperation. Regardless. We would appreciate any and all OC representatives or employees, or individuals otherwise receiving this transmission, to please send a response. We have been recording mandatory and otherwise necessary emergency chronicling logs for days now. Please.

[WE HEAR MILES'S FOOTSTEPS APPROACH.]

MILES

(distant) Athena, are you sending out another transmission? They’re not going to-

[C41 APPEARS WITH THEIR USUAL PING.]

C41

Shhh, let her do her thing, Miles. She needs to set her character up correctly for the new listeners that are hearing this promotional advertisement.

MILES

The new— what?

C41

What?

MILES

What are you talking about?

FELIX

I believe what Cal is doing is called “breaking the fourth wall,” my friend.

MILES

Breaking the what now?

C41

Oh, just forget about it.

[MILES GROANS; WE HEAR ALEX APPROACH.]

ALEX

What about a promotional advertisement?

ATHENA

Guys, could you… [SIGHS] I am trying to finish this log, so could you please give me a moment?

ALEX

Sorry, Starshine, I just got a little caught up in the whole “self-aware and breaking the fourth wall” thing.

ATHENA

It’s… fine.

C41

If I were you, Athena, I would close your log out by telling the listener to tune in to Micro-Cosmos: A Science Fiction Podcast, wherever you get your podcasts! The show is created by a crew of LGBTQ+ people, and features strange infant planets, brief romantic scenes before epic tragedy, cool sci-fi terminology, and adorably talented AI units, like myself!

ATHENA

Micro-?

C41

More information on the show can be found on its website: “microcospod.space”, OR its Twitter, Instagram, Tumblr, or TikTok, which all have the handle “@microcospod.”

MILES

… uh huh.

[THE CREW SITS IN SILENCE FOR A SECOND.]

C41

That’s just what I would say, though.

MILES

… Cal, we really need to figure out what is going on with this new phase of yours.

#heart of ether transcripts

[kpopfanfictrash]

Pride and Fidget Spinners (M)

Author: @kpopfanfictrash , as part of the You’ll Never Shop Alone (YNSA) collaboration with @underthejoon and @suga-kookiemonster

Creative Content Contributor: @underthejoon, for this amazing banner

Rating: 18+

Warnings: oral (female receiving), dirty talk, big dick (it’s seokjin, duh), everyone in this fic is a brat, seokjin talks about fair lending

Genre: Rom-Com / Smut / Enemies to Lovers

Word Count: 18,623

Summary:   Seokjin has always prided himself on being the top mall kiosk salesman. His turf, the spot nearest to the fountain, is due to him being the undisputed best in the game. At least, until you arrive and throw his world into chaos.

[ cross-posted to Wattpad here ]

I GET KNOCKED DOWN, BUT I GET UP AGAIN 

YOU ARE NEVER GONNA KEEP ME DOWN

I GET KNO –

SLAP. Seokjin’s hand finds the buzzer, tuning off his alarm to burrow further under the covers. Sunlight streams through the open windows, pricking the back of his eyelids but Seokjin refuses to look. He can sleep for five more minutes. Five more minutes will not kill him.

Somewhere else in his apartment, a bedroom door slams. Wincing, Seokjin pulls his comforter higher. His roommate, Min Yoongi, spends most of his time annoyed with the world – but especially in the morning, and especially before having coffee. Loud banging continues, along with the sound of facial products hitting the sink. Groaning out loud, Seokjin pulls a pillow over his face.

Unfortunately, he is now awake and unable to slip back into his dream. It was a good one, too. Something about Iron Man and that hot barista at the mall Taehyung is crushing on. Squinting into his pillow, Seokjin abruptly sits up and tosses this on the floor.

“Fuck!” he yelps, throwing up a hand.

Every day, Seokjin somehow forgets to close his blinds before sleeping. Groping his way into the bathroom, Seokjin ruffles a hand through mussed morning hair. Turning on both taps in his shower, he waits for the water to warm and stares at himself in the mirror.

Clapping both hands to his face, Seokjin drags down the side of his cheeks. Getting older is weird.

Before he can get too hung up on this fact, Seokjin steps into the tub. “I GET KNOCKED DOWN,” he sings, lathering himself with soap. “BUT I GET UP AGAIN!”

Once out of the shower, dried and with a towel wrapped around his waist, Seokjin wanders into his closet. The sight dims his spirits a bit, seeing rows and rows of neatly pressed suits. Seokjin stares them each down in turn, knowing blinking is a weakness.

Reaching past them, he sighs.

The one at the front is navy, pin-striped and stares at him mockingly. Seokjin remembers wearing that one on his first day of work, nearly three years ago. He remembers how proud his parents were of him when he called them on his way home.

Seokjin’s heart sinks at the memory. That first phone call overlaps with another, less pleasant one. The one after his company decided to move their programming center out of his city. Seokjin was not one of the engineers selected to go. He was – rather unceremoniously – let go.

Let go. Seokjin snorts at the memory. Let go is such a nicer way to say fired. Fired has the ring of burnt smoke to it; it stinks of crumbling foundations and all hell breaking loose. If a company wants to yank one’s livelihood out from under them, Seokjin at least feels they should have the decency to call it what it is. Let go.

Shaking his head, Seokjin pushes past the suit to grab a white button-down. It has been nearly six months since that second call. Four months since his severance ran out and Seokjin realized he needed a job. Three months and three weeks since he began working at the Fidget Funk – even thinking the name makes Seokjin wince.

If someone had told him three years ago that he, Kim Seokjin, with his fancy degree and multiple years of experience, would ever be working a glorified mall job, Seokjin would have laughed in their face. He would have asked what they were smoking and if he could share – and yet. Here he is.

Frowning at himself in the mirror, Seokjin zips up his pants. Perhaps the worst part is that Seokjin was not upset when he was ‘let go.’ He was not actually disappointed by the firing, which disappointed his parents even more. When Bob and Karen from HR sat him down in that tiny, white room and handed him a tiny, white packet, Seokjin could not stop grinning.

His colleagues thought he had been kept when he left the room. That is how much Seokjin hated that company. His pure joy at finally leaving was enough to make up for the sucky way it happened.

Honestly, Seokjin was not surprised when he was fired. His entire last year he worked there, Seokjin spent most of his free time designing apps on his phone. No wonder they let him go, come to think of it. He was hardly their employee of the year.

Grabbing both wallet and keys, Seokjin shoves these into his pockets. Stepping into the hall, he glances at Yoongi’s room. “Yoongi!” he calls. No answer. “Hey! Min Yoongi!”

Continued silence, apart from the harsh thud of bass.

Leaning a shoulder against the wall, Seokjin tries again. “MIN YOONGI!”

The door at the end of the hall opens, hitting the wall. “What?” With a yawn, Yoongi drags a hand through his hair. Bleached blond strands fall about his face. “You said 10:00 AM. It’s 10:01.”

“Right.” Seokjin looks at him pointedly. “But I need to have the kiosk set up by 10:30, or else Bertha gets pissed.”

Yoongi walks past him and frowns. “Who’s Bertha? I don’t remember you working with anyone named Bertha.”

“I don’t.” Seokjin shrugs. Today is one of the rare days their work schedules lined up and – amazingly enough – Yoongi agreed to carpool. “Bertha is the name of my fidget spinner display. She’s temperamental.”

Yoongi groans, shutting the door. “Dude, you need to get a hobby.”

“I do have a hobby!”

“Then, get a girlfriend,” says Yoongi, sliding his keys from the lock. “You have way too much free time on your hands.”

“Do not,” Seokjin mutters, shoving both hands in his pockets as they walk to his car. “I’m working on loads of stuff.”

“Oh, really?” Yoongi flips his phone. “Which amazing app is it today? Let me guess. The one which meows every time a cat comes near? Or, the one which ranks all the apps in your phone from most to least used? Or, maybe –”

“Hey!” Cutting him off, Seokjin pulls open his car door. “You left out Alliterate! The handy app which suggests words which start with the same letter as yours – for casual alliteration.”

Yoongi stares over the roof of his car. “Dude, who would buy that?”

“English majors. Dramatic teenagers writing letters in the eighteenth century.”

“Seokjin.” Yoongi slides into the passenger seat. “You don’t give a fuck about any of these ideas, and therein lies your problem.”

“Oh, really?” Seokjin sticks his keys into the ignition. The car is sweltering, baking from having been left in the sun all morning. “Unlike you and your SoundCloud rapping?”

“Exactly unlike me and my SoundCloud rapping.” Grinning, Yoongi buckles his seatbelt and looks over at Seokjin. “Speaking of which – I have a new track to play.”

“No.”

Turning on the engine, Seokjin winces when a red warning light appears. He apparently needs an oil change soon but – with what money?

“Yes.” Yoongi reaches out, already hooking up his phone. “Just these two hooks, okay? Tell me which one you like more.”

Twelve minutes later, Seokjin pulls into his unofficial parking spot at the mall. “Will you look at that?” he says, turning off the engine. “We’re here! Time to go sell those fidgets!”

Rolling his eyes, Yoongi pushes open the door. Shoving his white Auntie Anne’s visor further up on his head, he glances around. “You’ll be sorry,” he says, slamming the door. “You’ll all be sorry!” Yoongi yells at the empty parking lot.

Patting him once on the back, Seokjin walks inside. “You know that I like your music.” Seokjin shivers when they both hit the AC. “More than like it, in fact. You’re too good and you know it – your head is inflated, and I have to take you down a peg.”

Yoongi scoffs. “Yeah, because all this pretzel rolling is inflating my ego. I’m basically Kanye, pre-Kim. Or Kanye, post-Kim. Say what you will about the guy, he’s remarkably consistent about how good he thinks he is.”

Snorting, Seokjin quiets when they pass by Kay Jewelers. Both men swerve to avoid eye contact, since they never know when what’s-her-name will be working. Seokjin makes a face. He always forgets her name, but the Kay Jewelers girl is usually after the dick of someone in the mall. Both he and Yoongi have been on the receiving end of that hunt before.

“Alright.” Coming to a stop at his kiosk, Seokjin lowers his gym bag to the ground. “Here is where I bid thee adieu.”

Yoongi continues walking. “Bye.”

“BYE, BEST FRIEND!” Seokjin yells, waving as Yoongi crosses the food court.

Several heads turn, and Seokjin continues waving until his roommate is gone. Grinning, Seokjin returns to his kiosk. Unlocking the metal grating, he pulls this up to reveal a brightly colored display. The morning routine is standard. Inventory, balancing the register, ensuring all displays are functional. Each time he passes the front, Seokjin sees his name on the register.

The kiosk’s top salesman, three months in a row.

It might seem like a silly thing to be proud of, but Seokjin is at a point in his life where everything has gone wrong. Everything he does seems to become a failure and even though he hates this job and hates these fidget spinners (okay, that’s harsh – no one hates fidget spinners), at least he can succeed at this one, small thing.

Selling shit to people they absolutely do not need.

Leaning against the counter, Seokjin crosses an ankle to wait. The mall opens on weekdays at 11:00 AM, prompt. Some places are open earlier – like Java Joe’s, the coffee shop, and maybe the gym – but Seokjin’s kiosk is standard mall hours. Rubbing his eyes, Seokjin glances longingly in the direction of Java Joe’s, but there are only five minutes until the mall opens. He needs to remain where he is.

Pulling his phone from his jacket, he shoots off a quick text.

Seokjin: yo [10:55 AM]

It takes a moment for Namjoon to respond.

Namjoon: what do you want? [10:56 AM]

Seokjin: nothing!!! [10:56 AM]

Namjoon: … [10:56 AM]

Seokjin: ok fine [10:56 AM]

Seokjin: I’ll come clean [10:56 AM]

Seokjin: are you doing the morning shift at T-Mobile [10:56 AM]

Namjoon: …. Yes [10:57 AM]

Namjoon: why? [10:57 AM]

Seokjin: do u think… on ur next break… u could bring me some coffee?? [10:57 AM]

Namjoon: get it yourself [10:58 AM]

Seokjin: pleaseeee Joon?? I never ask you for anything! [10:58 AM]

Seokjin: Chad called in sick, so I’m here all alone : ( [10:58 AM]

Namjoon: sigh. Fine – can you hang on until 1? [10:58 AM]

Seokjin: : ( [10:58 AM]

Namjoon: ur the worst but fine, I’ll try to get away sooner [10:59 AM]

Seokjin: THANKS JOON [10:59 AM]

Seokjin: grande iced Americano, no milk [10:59 AM]

Namjoon: u wouldn’t treat Yoongi like this [10:59 AM]

Seokjin snorts, shoving his phone in his pocket. He absolutely would treat Yoongi like this – problem is, Yoongi rarely responds. He usually spends his work breaks engrossed in his music. If anything, Seokjin is the one who brings coffee to him.

The first two hours pass by at a glacial pace. Seokjin regularly looks at his watch, wondering why the day is moving so slowly. True, it is a weekday but there is usually steady traffic. Stay at home parents and high school kids with nothing better to do than spend their summers at the mall, drinking Orange Julius’ next to the fountain.

It took Seokjin two months to convince his boss to put in for this spot. Next to the fountain is prime mall real estate, since you need to pass by it in order to reach anywhere else. Which is why it is strange that Seokjin has had zero customers.

He is still frowning when Namjoon appears at his workplace, iced coffee in hand. Namjoon wears his T-Mobile manager uniform, complete with a badge which declares his name and title. Kim Namjoon, Assistant Manager.

“Two?” Seokjin fake gasps, holding out a hand. “All for me?”

“Nope.” Namjoon only gives one to him. “One is for me.” 

“Rude.” Seokjin sniffs, turning to survey the mall.

“What is? The fact that I brought you coffee?”

“Sure.”

Namjoon laughs. “What’s up with you today? You seem super distracted.”

Squinting at the fountain, Seokjin shakes his head. “I don’t know. Things have been so quiet today. Is there something going on? A deal at Woodbury mall, or something?”

“Hm.” Namjoon’s brow furrows. “Not that I know of, I – oh, wait.” He straightens, glancing across the food court. “When I was walking over here, I did see a new kiosk. Maybe they’re taking some of your customers?”

“A new kiosk?” Seokjin looks up in alarm. “Where?”

“There.” Namjoon points behind a browning, potted plant.

Seokjin peers in the direction Namjoon is pointing. In his line of vision stands a brand-spanking-new kiosk. The sides are all pristine, gleaming and white, with the kind of bright-colored accents designed to draw people in. Neat boxes of toys line the shelves, almost as pretty as Seokjin’s own display.

Groaning, Seokjin sinks to his kiosk. “Drones?” He glances at Namjoon. “How are fidget spinners supposed to compete with fucking drones?”

“Dunno.” Namjoon takes a sip of his coffee. “I first saw them this morning, but they’re getting pretty good business. Nearly tripped over their salesgirl on my way here. She’s cute,” he adds, glancing at Seokjin.

Seokjin glowers. “Cuter than me?”

“Maybe.” Namjoon shrugs.

“Impossible.” Seokjin glares in the direction of the kiosk. On one side, he can barely make out the shape of a worker and based on what he sees, Seokjin begrudgingly thinks Namjoon might be right. You could be cute.

Namjoon drains the rest of his cup. “Well. Gotta go,” he says cheerfully, clapping Seokjin on the back. “Breaks don’t last forever. Hope the rest of your day picks up.”

“Thanks,” Seokjin mutters. “Hope so, too.”

Namjoon leaves, returning the same way he came towards the T-Mobile store. Seokjin continues to glance at the competing kiosk, staring with envy at its remote-controlled helicopters.

Up until now, the competitive landscape at the mall has been easy. There is a guy on the second floor selling Proactive but other than that, Seokjin has never had real competition. Until now, it would seem.

Rather than be turned off by this fact, Seokjin tilts his head. The only reason he lasted as long as he did at his prior company is because of how competitive he is. Even if Seokjin does not care about the product, he still works tirelessly to be called number one. He should stop by and check out the competition – just to be certain there is no real risk.

Seokjin’s phone buzzes, revealing a text from his boss. Lisa will be here at 5:00 PM, meaning Seokjin only must hold out a few hours before he can see the new kiosk.

Only a few more hours until he knows what he is up against.

Lisa’s arrival at five means Seokjin is afforded a half-hour break. He uses this to grab food, bothering Yoongi at Auntie Anne’s before moving on. Dinnertime at the mall is typically crowded and Yoongi tends to throw mustard if Seokjin overstays his welcome.

Not wanting to ruin his button-down, Seokjin wanders in the direction of your kiosk. He eyes this as he approaches, finding the reality of the situation to be worse than he feared. The drones you stock are cool and what is more – they are all beautifully displayed. The stand might even rival Bertha.

Crossing both arms over his chest, Seokjin examines the kiosk. The products are neat, all of them aligned in carefully placed rows. The fingers on his right hand twitch, really wanting to touch the remote- controlled helicopters, but before he can move –

“Can I help you?” you ask, bright and cheerful. Seokjin flinches, gaze darting to you.

Fuck – seeing you up close, Seokjin’s jaw nearly hits the ground. You are gorgeous. There is no other word for it. The smile you give is infections; it makes him want to smile back. More than that – Seokjin finds himself wanting to be the reason for that smile, but no! Straightening his spine, Seokjin reminds himself that you are the competition.

Looking at you, his scowl deepens.

Your own smile falters. “Did you want me to take that one out?” you ask, pointing at the drone. “Show you how it works?”

Seokjin shrugs, as though he could not care less. “I’m not here to buy, actually.”

Now, it is your turn to look confused. “I – uh, okay.” You squint. “Then, why are you here?”

Seokjin realizes how creepy he sounds. In your eyes, he has wandered over, stared at your merchandise for a prolonged period of time and then announced he was not here to buy. A grade-A creep rivaled only by that one flasher who lurks in female footwear.

“Uh…” Backtracking, Seokjin jerks a thumb over his shoulder. “I work at that kiosk, actually. I’m Seokjin.”

Unimpressed, you glance in this direction. “Y/N. And – uh, okay?”

“I stopped by to say hello. And to see what you’re selling.”

As he speaks, you read the name of his kiosk. Your upper lip twitches as slowly, you return to looking at him. Seokjin is unnerved by your smile. For some reason, he has the sinking suspicion he is the butt of your joke.

“Oh,” you say, tone entirely different. “That kiosk. Brandi mentioned you.”

“Brandi?”

“My boss.” You wave towards the middle-aged woman on the other side of the kiosk. Seokjin thinks he has seen her around before. “She said you’ve been selling pretty well the past couple of months. Great job.”

Seokjin tries not to seem smug – there is an undercurrent to your tone which screams subterfuge. “I mean, yeah,” he says carefully. “Things are going pretty well for us.”

“Strange, then.”

“What is?”

“Strange that we’re doing so much better than you.”

Someone could scrape Seokjin’s jaw off the dirty, child-scuffed floor. You smirk at him, tapping two fingers against the pretty, floral sleeve of your tunic. If Seokjin did not know better, he would think you were flirting with him.

Except you just fucking insulted him.

“I…” Shaking his head, Seokjin’s voice is strangled. “Mall traffic has been slow this morning. No big deal. I guess once you’ve been around longer, you’ll know that.”

“Hm.” You purse your lips. “I don’t know – things have been pretty crazy for us today. We already ran out of a product. Wild, right?”

Seokjin’s mouth dries, his ears starting to buzz – all evidence of his pure hatred of you. Obviously. It could not be anything else.

“You ran… out of something? Already?”

Seokjin’s voice squeaks on the last word, making him cringe.

“Not bad, huh? Although, I guess once we’ve ‘been around longer,’” you mock with a grin, “we’ll get more lulls. Must be nice.”

In the face of his clear disbelief, you have the nerve to wink.

Seokjin begins to see red. “Yeah,” he croaks, recovering himself. “Beginner’s luck is nice, too.”

Your smile disappears. “How long is your break? I don’t think my kiosk could afford to have me gone for so long.”

Not looking away, Seokjin shoves the rest of his pretzel in his mouth. Chewing exaggeratedly, he watches you wince. “Sorry,” he mumbles around cinnamon-sugar bread. “Thanks for the reminder. I do need to be getting back. Can’t have my kiosk without its top salesman.”

Nose wrinkled; you continue to stare. “If that’s your idea of finesse, I think they can manage without you.”

“Please.” Seokjin gives you a pointed look. “I’m literally dripping with finesse.”

Your lips twitch, suppressing the gesture. Seokjin is impressed by your stoicism, since he knows he is a good-looking guy. That much is a non-debatable fact. Even if it were not, he can see by the way your gaze lingers, that you like what you see. And still – when your gaze returns to his face, your expression is artfully composed.

Fuck, Seokjin realizes. You really are going to be competition.

“Is that all?” Blithely, you turn. “Did you just stop by to see how much better we’re doing?”

Seokjin scowls at your arguably perfect behind. “I came to see how much product you have left, yeah.”

Glancing over your shoulder, you grin. “Why? Worried we’ll sell out before you can buy?”

“No.” Undercutting his conviction, Seokjin glances again at the helicopter. “I’ve got my hands full, thanks.”

“Ri-ght.” You draw out the word. “Then, you should probably get back to the, uh – Fidget Funk.”

Seokjin’s ears turn red with embarrassment. “I will,” he blurts, spinning around on his heel. “You have fun at the Drone Dome – fuck,” he mutters, coming to a stop. “That’s actually such a cool name.”

Without waiting for a response, he stalks away. All the way across the food court, your laughter rings out behind him. Upon reaching his kiosk, Seokjin glances over his shoulder. You are not paying attention to him, already engaged with another customer and Seokjin’s stomach slowly sinks.

He might be in trouble – and in more ways than one.

Seokjin arrives the next day ready for battle.

Before, he was unprepared – caught off guard by your wily ways, but no longer! He is Kim Seokjin, crusader of goals and defender of the kiosk. The fact that Seokjin does not care about fidget spinners does not matter. They are his unfortunate chosen weapon and so, he will die upon this metaphorical sword.

Leaning against his kiosk, Seokjin spins a toy in one hand. Smiling and nodding at everyone who passes, he tries not to seem creepy or make eye contact for too long. This is the number one rule of kiosk sales – be deliberate, but approachable.

Most kiosk salespeople fail here, never ascending past the first stage of selling. They leer at shoppers, approaching women with earbuds in, or spraying perfume without asking. Not Seokjin. Seokjin is the very image of class, one ankle crossed over the other.

Seated at the food court is a large group of collegiate girls. At least, Seokjin assumes this based off one girl’s University sweatshirt. They sit clustered around Starbucks drinks (a slap in the face to Java Joe’s!), giggling every so often and glancing at Seokjin. Despite knowing they see him, Seokjin pretends not to care. Every so often, he pushes a hand through his hair and angles himself in the light.

Eventually, he knows one will come over and when they do, Seokjin will whip out the charm. A shadow steps into his path, blocking the sunlight.

Seokjin frowns. “Get out of the way,” he says, bored. “I almost have a sale.”

Arms crossed; you glance over a shoulder. The group of girls glare at you, clearly perturbed at having their view interrupted.

Snorting, you return to Seokjin. “Oh, please. So, what – you’re a pedophile, in addition to creep?”

Jerking upright, Seokjin scowls. “I am not a pedophile. I’m just trying to make a sale.”

“Of what kind?” you ask pleasantly.

“Fidget spinners.”

“Hm. Could’ve fooled me.”

Shrugging, you take a long sip of your coffee. Seokjin tries not to linger on the way your lips wrap around the straw.

I don’t have to explain myself to you,” he says stiffly. “Now, move. You’re blocking my light.”

“Whatever,” you yawn, leaving. As you enter the food court, you give Seokjin an excellent view of your backside walking away. “We’ll still beat your sales target today, anyways!” you call back.

Glaring at your retreating head, Seokjin holds out for as long as he can before dropping his gaze to your ass. Waggling fingers over your shoulder, you disappear behind the potted plant. The college girls resume looking at him but now, Seokjin finds he does not care.

Really, he should be thanking you. As soon as you are gone, three of the girls wander up to his kiosk. Seokjin sells five fidget spinners in one hour, thanks to the jealousy your presence provoked. Rather than be pleased by this fact though, Seokjin becomes even more agitated. He does not like feeling in your debt.

The next time your shifts overlap, determined to get even, Seokjin switches tactics. He parks on the opposite end of the mall, necessitating he should walk by your kiosk. Yoongi complains about this, but Seokjin merely ignores him.

Slowing as he passes your kiosk, Seokjin waits for you to look up.

Both elbows leaned to the counter, you scroll casually through your phone. When your gaze flicks up, taking him in – you blink.

“Oh, come on,” you groan.

Waving to Yoongi, Seokjin veers in your direction. “Oh, hey!” He stops at your display, nonchalantly stretching his arms overhead. “Having a good morning?”

Gaze darting to his pants and back up, you almost seem flustered. “I – how tight are those jeans?”

Seokjin’s grin widens. “What, these old things?”

Turning around, Seokjin checks out his own ass, as though surprised by its appearance. He is rather proud of his legs, actually. There is a reason Seokjin spends so much time in the gym with Jungkook. His newly bought skinny jeans show off his best assets. Not to mention how satisfying it is to see you rendered speechless.

Your gaze returns to his, smoldering. “There’s a tag still in the pocket, genius.”

“Oh.” Grandly, Seokjin plucks this off – fuck, that just cost him an entire week of spending allowance. “Well, there you go. Wouldn’t want to distract from the view.”

Jaw clenched, you seem as though you want to say more, but hold yourself back. “Great.”

Seokjin smirks. “Isn’t it?”

Whirling around, you pretend to be busy but Seokjin can tell your register has already been counted.

“Shouldn’t you be getting back to your kiosk?” You glower, glancing over your shoulder. “I’d hate to waste any more of your time standing here.”

Seokjin’s grin broadens. “You’re right,” he agrees. “That’d be a shame. See you around, Y/N!”

Happily, he turns and walks back the food court. With each step his grin widens, imagining you watching him leave. The rest of his day is spent in lazy self-satisfaction.

As it turns out, Seokjin should have been warier. Your silence was not acceptance of defeat, but a determined self-call to arms. The very next day, Seokjin walks past your kiosk and nearly spills his drink down his shirt.

You stand off to the side, bent to display a generous amount of cleavage. Seokjin’s jaw drops, unable to look away. He realizes how inappropriate he is being when you look up and see him.

“Seokjin!” Straightening, you wave.

The action makes your breasts bounce, causing Seokjin’s pants to feel tighter.

Yoongi snorts at his side. “Good luck, man,” he says, patting Seokjin once on the back before walking away.

Seokjin is left alone, facing the wiles of his enemy.

“Hey,” you say, raising both brows. “Seokjin? Are you okay?”

Forcing himself to move, Seokjin walks robotically forward. He does not allow himself to look below your collarbone – fuck, you must be wearing a push-up bra. There is no other way a single day could cause such a dramatic transformation.

Unable to help himself, Seokjin sneaks another peek.

When he looks up, you are smirking at him. “See something you like?”

The tips of Seokjin’s ears turn crimson. “I – what?”

“The merchandise,” you say sweetly, waving a hand. “We just got in a few new toys over the weekend.”

Seokjin has no response to this, having momentarily forgotten what words are.

Your lips twitch. “Is something wrong, Seokjin?”

Seeing the teasing look in your eyes, Seokjin fumes. “Nothing’s wrong,” he says, jaw snapping shut. “I’ll just be on my way, then. Lots of… fidgets to spin.”

Turning around, he dramatically walks off.

He cannot help but feel oddly unsettled, throat burning in a way which does not make sense. Anger, he tells himself. The emotion is merely annoyance. It is completely natural he would hate his competitor. Natural, for him to think about what their lips would look like shut up by his.

It takes two weeks for Seokjin to enact the next phase of his plan. Which is – dramatic entertainment. Basically, phase two involves Seokjin researching fidget spinner hand tricks for hours at a time on YouTube. It reaches to the point where Seokjin is in near hibernation. Jungkook sends him texts every so often, asking when he will return to the gym, but Seokjin is a man on a mission and cannot be stopped.

He starts off slowly, learning the simple fidget spinner hand transfer. Next is the hand twist, rated Difficulty Level Two by the most known YouTube star. From there, learning the around the back is easy. This maneuver is more complex – it involves Seokjin physically throwing the fidget spinner over his shoulder to catch in the other hand.

Once Seokjin can control two fidget spinners at once, he deems himself ready.

Phase two goes into action on a busy Saturday afternoon. Seokjin hijacks the Fidget Funk’s speakers, hooking up his iPhone to the horror of his co-worker, Lisa.

“Oh, no,” she groans. “Please tell me you aren’t doing what I think you’re doing.”

“Are you thinking I’m doing a fidget spinner trick show?” Seokjin adjusts the sweatband on his forehead. “Alright, then. I won’t tell you.”

“God, how embarrassing.” Lisa slumps low in her chair. “Well, at least do it before Chad gets here.”

“Noted. What song should I use?” Seokjin flips through his playlist. “Hero by Enrique Iglesias? Whatcha Say by Jason Derulo? The Cha Cha Slide?”

Lisa stares in disbelief. “What vibe are you going for, exactly?”

“None of those?” Seokjin frowns. “What about All Star by Smash Mouth?”

“How about Cotton Eyed Joe?” Lisa offers. “That seems more fitting with all of… this.”

Ignoring her sarcasm, Seokjin selects a song to press play. The first notes of Everybody by Backstreet Boys plays through the speakers. Lisa groans and slumps even lower.

At first, no one notices Seokjin at all. People sidestep him, focused solely on getting to the food court but then, Seokjin executes a perfect shoulder throw. A kid stops to watch. His mom stops too, trying to drag her kid forward but failing in her mission.

“Hey!” Seokjin beams, switching the spinner from one hand to the other. “Want to see more?”

The boy nods and before long, Seokjin has managed to gather a small crowd. Over the ooh’s and ahs of children, Seokjin converses with their moms.

“Fidget spinners are proven to help concentration in both kids and adults,” Seokjin says with a hand twist. “One of my friends was telling me a story the other day. He and this AVP at his office are both tactile people and remember better while doing something with their hands. So, they end up having this entire meeting while playing with fidget spinners from her office.”

The moms all laugh, moving forward to let their kids pick out a toy. By the time the day ends, Seokjin has beaten all previous sales records. He has also managed to capture the attention of most people in the mall – including you.

And Namjoon, who stops by before closing.

“Dude,” Namjoon laughs, leaning one arm to his kiosk. “Why are you being so extra lately? It’s just a temp job. Who cares?”

“I care, Namjoon.” Seokjin bristles. “Is it so wrong to want to do well at my work? To want to improve the sales of my peers. Frankly, Namjoon, I’m insulted you would –”

“Hey, Kim!” you yell, passing by. “Heard you’re trying to break into show business!”

Seokjin abruptly stops talking. “Trying?” he calls back. “I’m already there. Were you able to catch a performance?”

Rolling your eyes, you walk backwards. “Of course, I did! The whole fucking mall saw you, Seokjin. Your music was so loud, people physically moved in the food court.”

Seokjin’s grin widens. “What’d you think?”

“I think you should stick to sales.” Shaking your head, you try not to smile. “Anyways, just wait until you see what we’re doing this weekend. It’ll make your lame tricks look like nothing!”

“Can’t wait!” Seokjin cups both hands over his mouth. “I love to watch lofty dreams come crashing down!”

Shaking your head, you turn around and disappear into the mall. Once you are gone, Seokjin returns to Namjoon.

“What?” he blinks, seeing his friend’s smug expression.

Namjoon’s smile widens. “Oh, nothing.”

“What?”

Namjoon merely laughs, grabbing his smoothie and turning away. “Good luck with that, man!”

Seokjin stares after, not understanding but deciding it is not worth his while. Namjoon always thinks he knows so much – granted, he usually does, but that is not the point. The point is Seokjin does not and so, he should not worry about it now.

The next day is busy, which means Seokjin barely has time to consider the performance you mentioned. He is again covering for Lisa, who failed to show up. Chad and Seokjin are the only ones covering the kiosk, which Seokjin despises because Chad is his least favorite co-worker. Lisa may be flaky, but at least her presence is tolerable. Chad is always going off on tangents about who wronged him on Twitter that day, and why.

Chad is also terrible at customer service – no surprise – which means Seokjin must handle all returns and exchanges. A tedious task in itself, let alone with Chad’s monotonous voice in his ears. In fact, the morning is so busy, Seokjin barely remembers to eat, let alone visit you.

It is the sound of cheers over the food court which make him look up.

Midway through a transaction, Seokjin pauses to glance at your kiosk. You and your Manager – Brandi – stand before it, navigating two competing drones in the air. It seems several people are betting on which drone will win.

Rolling his eyes, Seokjin returns to his customer. Smiling blandly, he hands the woman her money and ignores the wild cheers growing steadily behind him. It makes Seokjin’s teeth grind, realizing you might be drawing a bigger crowd than he did.

Unable to stop himself, he peers over his shoulder. Seokjin’s eyes widen. Above the food court, a helicopter loops circles around a remote-controlled plane. They no longer seem to be racing, dive- bombing the crowd and swooping up at the last second. Kids squeal in excitement, running around underneath.

Seokjin scowls, slamming shut the register. His mind revolts at the knowledge that your show is better than his – also, there is the maddening fact that Seokjin wants a drone for himself. Huffing under his breath, Seokjin turns away.

Before he can tell Chad he is going on break, a scream pierces the crowd.

“MOVE!” Seokjin hears your voice above the rest. “KIDS, MOVE!”

Seokjin whirls around, spotting the helicopter spinning out of control. Kids duck from its path, their hands held overhead as the helicopter sputters, dips and sputters again. Steam curls from its top, clearly not responding to the remote you hold in one hand.

Worse than that, the drone is headed in their direction.

“Chad, move!” Seokjin yells, diving out of the way.

Chad looks up just in time to see the helicopter crash into their kiosk.

Fidget spinners fly every which way. From his spot on the floor, several hit Seokjin in the back of his legs – he winces, curling into himself. Chad’s sputtering continues above as the slow whir of helicopter blades begins to wind down.

Seokjin hesitantly looks up. The kiosk above him is chaos. Nothing seems to be broken, but his carefully placed display – Bertha! – is entirely out of whack. Brightly colored boxes lie on the floor, shelving hanging precariously off the sides of the kiosk.

You dash into view, skidding to a stop inches away from his nose. “I’m so sorry!” you cry, a useless remote held in one hand. “I don’t know what happened, I swear.”

Your gaze darts to Seokjin’s, still lying prostrate on the floor.

He slowly pushes himself to stand, staring in shock at the disastrous kiosk. Seokjin expects to feel angry. He should feel pissed, since all his hard work was erased and now, he will have to spend several hours cleaning it up, but – nothing.

Well, that is not entirely true.

Seokjin wishes he could wipe that look of distress from your face. “It’s alright,” he says, still looking at you.

Surprise flickers over your expression.

Chad steps out from behind the kiosk. “Oh… my… god,” he says, eyes wide.

“I’m really sorry,” you repeat, face twisted in agony.

Before you can continue, your manager appears. “Go back to the kiosk, Y/N,” she says, sighing. “There are a bunch of customers to take care of. I’ll handle this.”

It appears you wish to say more, but a stern look from Brandi is silencing. Giving Seokjin an apologetic look, you turn on your heel to walk across the food court.

Brandi waits until you are out of earshot before looking at Seokjin. “I’m sorry about the disruption,” she offers.

Seokjin tears his gaze away. “It’s okay.”

“What?!” Chad stomps out to point a finger at Brandi. “It is not okay! You and your dumb drones wrecked our display!”

Brandi looks at his finger, unimpressed. She glances at Seokjin. “You can throw that helicopter away. If anything of yours has been damaged, let me know. We’ll pay for it – just send me an itemized receipt by the end of the day, okay?”

Seokjin nods, a bit thrown by the interaction. “Yeah, alright. Sounds good.”

Brandi looks at him thankfully, turning around to return to her kiosk. Once she is gone, Chad whirls on Seokjin.

“Man, what the fuck?”

Bending, Seokjin picks up a lone fidget spinner. “What do you mean, what the fuck?”

“They should’ve…” Chad trails off, shaking his head. “Done more. I don’t know. They should’ve cleaned up the whole area, or something!”

Seokjin snorts, replacing the toy on the counter. “Relax,” he says. “It’s not like anything is seriously damaged. We just need to re-stock the display and besides, they don’t know how to do that. It’ll be faster if we do it.”

“Even so,” Chad mutters. He begins cleaning up, casting an angry glance in the direction of the Drone Dome. “They should still fucking pay.”

“They will, if anything’s broken,” Seokjin says simply.

He then tunes Chad out, putting himself to work. Re-stocking Bertha takes a while but, in the end, Seokjin is happier with its order. He keeps thinking you will stop by after your shift, but you do not. Perhaps you are too embarrassed to do so, or maybe Brandi warned you not to go near them again.

Whatever the reason, Seokjin cannot leave before closing. When he finally passes kiosk on his way to the gym, everything is closed, and you are nowhere in sight.

Seokjin lingers a moment before he moves on.

SLAM.

Seokjin drops his barbells, the sound echoing through the gym in a satisfying way. Several women on the elliptical look up in annoyance.

“Sorry!” Seokjin calls, wiping sweat from his neck.

Although the women continue to glare, they return to their workout. Jungkook snickers into the sleeve of his t-shirt, biceps bulging beneath the tight fit of his clothes. Pulling a power bar from his pocket, Jungkook waves at the weights Seokjin discarded.

“Give me ten more.”

Seokjin glares. “Go choke.”

“Can’t.” Unwrapping his snack, Jungkook takes a large bite. “Told my current hook-up that was just for her.”

“Gross.” Seokjin groans, bending to grab the weights. “I didn’t need to know that.”

Jungkook grins, displaying chocolate and teeth. “Ten more,” he repeats.

Despite several muttered curse words under his breath, Seokjin obeys. Dropping the weights again on the floor – in direct defiance of the no weight-dropping sign – Seokjin grabs his knees with both hands.

“Alright,” he huffs, squinting at Jungkook. “I don’t care anymore if I’m in shape. I care more about snacks. Snacks and alcohol.”

“I’m choosing to ignore that.” Jungkook takes another bite. “I’m using one of my free guest passes on you, so you better be worth it.”

Rolling his eyes, Seokjin takes a long swig from his water bottle. Despite this, he still follows Jungkook as they walk to the treadmills. Jungkook is right, he is doing Seokjin a favor by letting him work out for free. Truth be told, Seokjin hated Jungkook when he first began at the mall. Jungkook was young, good- looking and got tons of attention – male and female, alike.

He was the competition.

Over time though, this distrust dissolved and somehow, Jungkook is now one of Seokjin’s closest friends. When he is not annoying the hell out of him, that is.

Throwing his wrapper in the trash, Jungkook wipes both palms on his pants. “So.” Stepping onto a treadmill, he turns the speed to three. “How’s it going with drone girl?”

Seokjin follows suit. “She knocked over my display today.”

“Like, on purpose?”

“Nah.” Seokjin shakes his head. “On accident. She was doing a demo and one of the helicopter drones broke. Crashed into my kiosk.”

“Oh.” Jungkook’s brow furrows. “Still – annoying. Increase your speed.”

Seokjin obeys. “Eh,” he huffs, beginning to jog. “I don’t think it was on purpose. But still, she’s just so frustrating.”

“What’s frustrating? Increase your speed again to four.”

“I don’t know,” Seokjin says, following suit. “She’s frustrating. She has this way of looking at me, you know?”

“Looking at you in like, a creepy way?”

“No…” Seokjin’s feet pound the treadmill. “She’s a tease.”

“Sounds hot.”

“She keeps messing with me.”

“You keep messing with her.”

“She made fun of my fidget spinners!”

Jungkook bursts into laughter. To add insult to injury, he barely seems winded at all by their run and Seokjin is panting.

“Dude. Fidget spinners suck. I’ve heard you say that on multiple occasions.”

“Sure, but she doesn’t have to say that!”

“Whatever, bro.” Jungkook grins. “Sounds to me like you want to fuck her.”

Seokjin is so startled, he nearly trips on the treadmill. “I do not.”

“No judgement here! Do it once, get it out of your system.”

“I don’t want to fuck her, Jungkook.” Seokjin glares in his direction. “She hates me. And I hate her!”

“O-h,” Jungkook says knowingly. “So, you’re in love with her. I get it. Increase your speed to five.”

Seokjin obeys, face turning beet-red. “Jungkook,” he growls. “Shut the fuck up.”

“Make me.”

Reaching out, Seokjin turns the speed on Jungkook’s treadmill to eight.

“Hey!” Jungkook yelps, breaking into a sprint. He manages to keep up, pushing a hand through his hair. When Seokjin rolls his eyes, Jungkook grins. “Nailed it.”

Seokjin returns to his machine. “Besides, you’re one to talk,” he mutters. “Aren’t you in love with the juice girl, or something?”

On reflex, Jungkook glances over his shoulder. Seokjin can tell by his lovesick expression he is right. Juice girl only started working recently at the gym and from what Seokjin can tell, Jungkook is entirely smitten. He has never been subtle about the women he likes, but with juice girl, Jungkook seems to have met his match.

She is completely immune to his charms. Seokjin cannot help but feel sympathy for the guy. Or – at least, he does until Jungkook returns to him with a grin.

“So.” He wriggles his eyebrows. “How hot is kiosk girl, anyways?”

“No.” Seokjin reaches out to increase Jungkook’s incline. “You’re not going to fuck my mortal enemy.”

“Well, if you’re not going to.”

“Think about juice girl!” Seokjin yells – entirely unintentional, but he is running out of breath.

Jungkook retaliates by upping his speed. By the end of their sprint, Seokjin feels like collapsing. He steps off his treadmill with wobbly legs, feeling as though he has just run a marathon. Not that Seokjin would ever run a marathon, of course, but he can imagine. Jungkook follows suit, hopping down from his machine.

“Good workout.” Jungkook wipes his forehead with a towel. “Wanna come over and hang? Hoseok from Foot Locker is gonna come, too.”

Seokjin nods, taking a sip from his water bottle. “Yeah, okay.” He glances again at the door, but your kiosk is too far to see. “Sounds good to me.”

As they walk towards the locker rooms, Jungkook chatters aimlessly but Seokjin cannot stop thinking about you. While he showers and changes, Jungkook’s words replay in his mind. The idea of Seokjin having a crush on you is insane. The two of you have barely exchanged one nice word since you met.

Still. Snapping a towel free from his neck, Seokjin continues to wonder. He does think about you an awful lot. Usually, he is thinking of new ways to annoy you, but that is more than he thinks about anyone else. Chad, for instance – or Lisa.

Frowning, Seokjin slams shut his locker. He cannot ignore the initial attraction he had for you. If you had not been his competition, Seokjin would have probably asked you out.

The moment he thinks this, he freezes. Maybe this is why you annoy him so much – Seokjin is attracted to you and can do nothing about it.

Under any other set of circumstances, this fact would be enlightening but things being what they are though, nothing has changed. You still hate him. Seokjin still finds you his competition.

Staring at his locker, Seokjin’s lips twist.

“Seokjin!” Jungkook yells from the door. “You coming, or what?”

Jerking himself free from his thoughts, Seokjin picks up his bag. “Coming!” he yells, pushing you from his mind.

Seokjin has the next two days off work. He uses this mainly to work on his apps, pouring time and energy into working the kinks from his latest round of updates. In between each stroke of his keyboard, he is thinking of you.

Seokjin hates Jungkook a little, for pointing out the obvious fact that he likes you. Before that, Seokjin took his fixation with you at face value. He did not like you; he was just annoyed by you. Now, though.

He cannot help but wonder.

Exhaling loudly, Seokjin slumps against his kiosk. His manager is off once again – honestly, that dude never works – and Seokjin is stuck working with Chad. Absently, Seokjin twirls a spinner around his finger.

“You okay, man?” Chad breaks the silence.

Shaking his head, Seokjin stares into space. “Oh, yeah. Just a bit preoccupied, that’s all.”

“With what?”

Seokjin shrugs, not feeling like talking.

Chad is one of the few people capable of getting under his skin without saying a word. It is something about the way Chad stands – chest puffed, gaze lazy, as though the world owes him something. He always wears a backwards cap, even inside and Seokjin suspects a receding hairline to be the cause. Whatever the reason, Chad always has a chip on his shoulder.

He seems to be compensating for something. Although what he could be compensating for, as a white male in today’s economy, Seokjin has no idea.

“Hey.” Voice lowering, Chad nods towards the food court. “I know something which might cheer you up.”

Seokjin straightens when he realizes Chad is staring at you. Anything which cheers Chad up could only have the opposite effect upon Seokjin.

“What?” Seokjin asks, suspicious.

Chad leans in. “You know the bitch who ruined our display a few days ago?”

Seokjin’s jaw tightens, hearing you called a bitch. “What about it?”

“Ha.” Chad laughs, not hearing the clear warning in Seokjin’s tone. “Don’t worry about paying her back. I got this.”

Alarm bells go off in Seokjin’s mind. “What do you mean by, ‘I got this?’”

“Let’s just say it’s taken care of.”

“No.” Seokjin drops his phone, standing up from his chair. “Let’s say more. What the fuck did you do, Chad?”

Chad blinks at him in surprise. “Whoa – chill, dude. What’re you pissed about?”

Seokjin pauses, uncertain. It is not as though he knows you, not really. But still – Seokjin remembers how sincere you looked that day, apologizing for the display. You did not mean to injure their kiosk; he knows that much.

“Chad…” Seokjin mutters in warning.

He does not get further before screams erupt from the food court. Seokjin’s head whips sideways, spotting the source of the commotion. Once again, a drone is loose in the mall. Like two days prior, a rogue helicopter flies over the food court. It seems out of control, dive-bombing people at random and sending them running.

Seokjin’s mouth drop. Before he can move, the drone careens towards the ground. A girl stands alone next to the frozen yogurt place, holding her cone and staring at it in terror. Her eyes widen, fixed on the drone and Seokjin moves on instinct, darting into the crowd.

Before he can arrive, the girl’s mom appears to yank her to safety. Her cone spills in the process, mint chocolate chip on the ground, but at least the helicopter misses, swooping and diving again. Seokjin’s eyes narrow, realizing the drone moves much too fast to be out of control.

Glancing around, Seokjin realizes Chad is on his phone. When he sees Seokjin looking, Chad waves at him with a grin.

Seokjin’s stomach heaves. Before he can move, you are barreling towards him.

“YOU!” you yell, pointing a finger. Several people between you look up in surprise.

Seokjin blinks, also pointing at himself. “Me?”

“You!” you gasp, skidding to a stop. “What the hell did you do to my drone?”

You are holding several remotes in your fist, Seokjin realizes. Apparently, none of them are working. The helicopter swoops dangerously close to you both and Seokjin ducks out of the way.

“What did I do?” he blurts, staring upwards. “You think I’m the one behind this?”

“No, shit!” you yell, dodging the drone.

“Y/N, I –” The chopper dive-bombs again and Seokjin groans. This is not going to make you believe him, but he needs to do something before someone gets hurt. “Fuck it!” he yells and takes off.

Sprinting away, Seokjin hears you yelling behind him. Ignoring you, Seokjin leaps onto a table. He is not sure how Chad is controlling the helicopter – possibly from his phone, but Seokjin would not put it past him to have someone stationed elsewhere in the mall. Based on the depth of his vengeance on Twitter, Seokjin imagines Chad to be petty.

All Seokjin knows is he needs to stop the drone and a sure-fire way of doing that is getting the drone from the air.

Above, the drone does a loop before dive-bombing a cluster of girls exiting the lingerie store. The girls squeal, scatting in every direction as the helicopter pulls from its spiral. Leaping into the air, Seokjin’s fingers barely brush a wing before falling back to the ground.

“SEOKJIN, GET BACK HERE!”

Ignoring you, Seokjin continues pursuing the drone. “Sorry!” he yells, dodging a woman. “Y/N, this isn’t what it looks like!”

Your footsteps pound behind him, catching up. “It looks like you hijacked one of your drones!”

“See!” Seokjin glances over his shoulder. “I told you it wasn’t what it looks like!”

“Huh?”

“Aha!” Seokjin leaps into the air. Fuck – he barely misses. Crashing again to the ground, Seokjin takes off running. He uses his next jump to leap onto a table.

A guy looks up from his hot dog, mustard dribbled onto his chin. “What the f –”

Seokjin leaps into the air, fingers grazing the wing of the helicopter. Eyes narrowed, Seokjin swears as his heels hit the ground. A mother nearby covers the ears of her child.

“Sorry!” Seokjin yells in response.

A hand grabs his arm. “Kim Seokjin!” you blurt, whirling him sideways to face you.

Seokjin glances over your shoulder in distress. “It’s getting away!” he blurts, shaking free to sprint towards the fro-yo.

Your mouth drops, but you follow. “What are you doing?”

Not having the breath to answer, Seokjin runs faster. For the first time in his life, he is grateful Jungkook pushes him so hard at the gym. Jumping again in the air, Seokjin thinks he has done it – until you jump suddenly in front of him, swatting his hand.

“Hey!” Seokjin yelps, stumbling as he hands. “What the fuck, Y/N?”

“Mine!” you yell, darting forward.

“Wait – Y/N!”

Grumbling, he chases after you. The two of you must look ridiculous, racing around the food court. As you pass Auntie Anne’s pretzels, Seokjin swears he can hear Yoongi cracking up at the register.

One second, you are ahead of him and the next, Seokjin is. He runs faster, pumping his arms as he spots the drone by the fountain. Cutting you off, Seokjin puts on a sudden burst of speed and leaps into the air. His fingers wrap around metal, yanking the helicopter from the sky. As he descends, Seokjin cannot help but laugh – until your hand finds his elbow, pulling him sideways.

Seokjin yelps, stumbling when his feet hit the concrete.

There is a dangerous, teetering moment where you both hover at the edge of the fountain – and then he falls, taking you with. Seokjin yelps, soaked to the skin when a water jet hits his face. A second splash follows as your butt hits the water.

If feels like a scene from a movie; that moment when a song cuts at a party. One second, everything is happening and the next – nothing.

Slowly, Seokjin pushes himself to sit in the water. The trickling sound of the fountain fills his ears, one of his hands resting on something which is definitely not a penny.

“Gross,” Seokjin groans, seeing the wad of pink gum.

His pants are soaked, so is his shirt and Seokjin does not even want to imagine the state of his hair. Removing his hand from the water gum, Seokjin looks up.

You glare back at him, making Seokjin recoil.

At least the drone is down.

Seokjin can see its red wings submerged in the water, bobbing genteelly in the waves of the fountain. Slowly, the sounds of the mall filter back in. Someone nearby snickers and someone else starts to clap. In his peripheral, Seokjin can see a few teenagers recording and slowly, he closes his eyes. If he goes viral, there is no way his manager will keep him.

You seem to realize the same thing, glancing around you in panic. Seokjin realizes your situation is noticeably worse than his, since you were wearing a white t-shirt when you fell. The material sticks to your skin, making each curve of your body apparent.

Seokjin swallows, understanding crashing into him with all the subtlety of a lightning bolt.

He likes you.

Fuck. Seokjin likes you, and he is a giant idiot.

Snickering at the food court grabs Seokjin’s attention. It appears he is not the only one to have noticed your shirt. At least your bra is white, but this does not seem to matter to fifteen-year-old boys.

Glancing down, you inhale and cover your chest. Seokjin awkwardly tries to stand, rushing forward to help but slips in the process, nearly falling again. It does not seem as though you desire his help anyways, springing to your feet with tears in your eyes.

Teeth chattering, you hold one hand before you. “Stay away,” you blurt, wet strands of hair plastered against your face. As though unable to help yourself, your lower lip quivers. “I fucking mean it, Seokjin. Stay away from me.”

Seokjin’s feet falter beneath him. “I…” Staring at you, he slowly nods in defeat. “Okay.”

You bend, scooping the helicopter into your arms before turning away.

Giving him another scowl, you climb from the fountain. Your sneakers make squishing noises against the linoleum as you stalk through the food court. Seokjin continues to stand there, ignoring the water jets which repeatedly hit his kneecaps.

His stomach sinks, watching you disappear.

Logically, Seokjin should go and find mall security. He should explain to them what happened before they find him, or worse – before he goes viral on the web. Less logically, Seokjin wants to run after you. He cannot simply leave things between you like that.

At the very least, he should find you a dry t-shirt. Maybe Hoseok could get him one from Foot Locker.

Because this is partly his fault. Seokjin was not the one who took over the drone and he did not push you into the fountain, but you only reacted that way because of how Seokjin has treated you. It was not a wild leap of thought to assume Seokjin was the culprit.

Before he can think about this further, a laugh breaks through the crowd. Turning around, Seokjin sees Chad running towards him.

“Wow.” Chad skids to a stop at the fountain. “That was incredible. Did you see how wet she was? And guess who got it all on camera?” He winks, waving his phone.

“Did you?” Seokjin speaks pleasantly, although he is starting to see red. “Can I see that?”

“Sure.” Chad grins, handing over the phone.

Accepting the object, Seokjin promptly throws this into the fountain.

Chad’s mouth drops open. “What the fuck?” he blurts, watching the metal sink to the bottom.

Seokjin brushes off his hands. “You’re fired,” he says, stepping out of the fountain. Water drips from his shirt, splashing the ground at his feet.

Chad’s eyes bug. “You can’t fire me, asshole. You’re not my manager.”

“Maybe not.” Seokjin shrugs and walks past. His hands open and close, curling into fists. “But he likes me better than you and he’ll believe me when I say this was your fault.”

“You dick!”

“That’s right,” Seokjin mutters. He glances at your kiosk, only to find it empty – Brandi must be helping you to clean up. Something twinges in his chest, knowing this is partly his fault. “I guess I am.”

One week later, Seokjin cannot stop thinking about you.

He tries to forget. Truly, he does but this proves itself to be more difficult than he realized. Seokjin did not understand before, how deeply you integrated yourself in his life. He did not realize how much he looked forward each day to your banter, to hearing your laugh whenever he passed by your kiosk. The past month has been bearable only because of your presence.

Slumped at the counter of Auntie Anne’s pretzels, Seokjin stares forlornly across the food court.

“Either smile or move.”

Seokjin turns to Yoongi in confusion. “Huh?”

“Either smile,” Yoongi repeats. “Or move. You’re bumming out all my customers.”

Seokjin glances at the empty food court before him. It is 10:00 AM. “What customers?”

“Exactly. All my customers are scared off by how sad you are.”

Seokjin manages a weak chuckle. “Trust me, my face is not what’s driving your customers away. If anything, it’s your latest SoundCloud mix.”

Yoongi frowns, perturbed. “Take that back.”

Seokjin winces, seeing the genuine hurt on his face. “Sorry, man,” he mumbles. “I’m just not in a great mood today.”

“No shit.”

Seokjin cracks a smile. “That obvious, huh?”

“Much in the same way climate change is obvious to everyone but the Cheeto.”

Stifling a laugh, Seokjin quickly sobers. “I just… I don’t know. I thought she’d hear me out, at least.”

The entire past week, Seokjin has parked at the opposite end of the mall from your kiosk. It makes his morning walk shorter, but somehow lonelier.

“So, this is about her, huh?” Yoongi lowers his elbows to the counter. “She’s gone incommunicado.”

“Yeah, it’s about her. I guess I can’t really blame her for being mad at me.”

“No?”

Seokjin shakes his head. “I was kind of a dick.”

Yoongi snorts. “She was a dick, too.”

“Yeah, but I started it.” Seokjin takes a sip of his coffee. “I was the one who approached her all weird, called her the competition. That set a tone.”

“Okay.” Yoongi tilts his head, thinking. “So, what’re you gonna do about it?” 

“I’m going to do nothing about it.”

“Then stop complaining to me.”

“I’m not complaining!” Seokjin looks up and sighs. “Alright, maybe I’m complaining a little. I just… wish I’d realized I liked her sooner.”

“Who cares about that? Tell her now!”

“But she hates me.”

“She hated you then!”

Seokjin glares and takes another sip of his coffee – sputtering, he chokes, “Oh, shit – that’s hot.”

“Hey.” Yoongi gives him a look. “She thinks you messed with her job. That’s way different than wearing tight pants, or putting on a fidget show, or whatever.”

“Fidget spinner show, Yoongi. Fidget show sounds like something else.”

“Both are lame,” Yoongi says. “And my point still stands. She’s mad at you now because of something you didn’t do. Now, move your elbow – I need to clean that spot before lunch.”

Seokjin obliges, dutifully removing himself from the counter. Drinking his coffee, he stares out at the food court. Up until now, Seokjin thought he was doing the noble thing. He was respecting your wishes by giving you space. You said you did not wish to see him again.

Yoongi is right, though. You said all that laboring under a misconception. More than respecting the words said in anger, perhaps it is better for Seokjin to tell you the truth. Maybe pretending to be noble is just another way of chickening out.

Because if Seokjin explains everything to you and you still do not care, it means he is alone in all this. His feelings are one-sided and everything before now was merely a rivalry. The spark Seokjin feels when he looks at you, the burning desire to kiss you – if you knew all that and still hated him, then Seokjin would be alone.

Seokjin exhales and looks up. “Gotta go,” he says, slapping the counter. “See you after your shift?’

“Wait!” Yoongi catches his arm before Seokjin can leave. “Bracelet buddies?” he grins, holding up the pink cat charm wound around his wrist.

Seokjin groans, dutifully rolling up his sleeve to showcase the pale pink alpaca. “Bracelet buddies,” he says glumly.

Yoongi gave him the gift several days ago; payback, he said, for all the women Seokjin has sent his way with the promise of a free pretzel. That used to be Seokjin’s way of scoring dates at the mall. At least, before he met you. Seokjin is obligated to wear said bracelet for three months, or else Yoongi will send their friends pictures of him sleeping with his mouth open on the couch.

If he is being honest, Seokjin does not entirely hate the bracelet. The alpaca is kind of cute, but Yoongi cannot ever know that. Waving goodbye, he manages to scowl and keep up appearances when he heads towards his kiosk.

For the next several days, Seokjin continues to wimp out.

Kind of.

While he does not actually explain what happened, he tries to make up for it in other ways. On Monday, he overhears you telling the Kay Jewelers girl the legs of your stool are too short. As a result, Seokjin volunteers to work late and stays long after closing. Before he leaves, he goes to your kiosk and switches your stool for his.

On Thursday morning, your shifts overlap. Seokjin sees you yawn passing his kiosk, mentioning to Brandi you did not sleep well the night prior. Ducking behind his counter, Seokjin does not make eye contact.

Still, he stops by Java Joe’s on his break and begs Taehyung for coffee.

Taking the long way back through the mall, Seokjin visits your kiosk. It is the first time he has tried talking to you since the Great Fountain debacle. As you come into view, Seokjin swallows and forces the words from his lips.

“Hey.” He comes to a stop at the register.

You freeze when you see him. “Um. Hi?”

Seokjin holds the coffee tray out like a shield. “I was at Java Joe’s and Taehyung brewed too much espresso. Lisa doesn’t drink it, so I was wondering if you wanted it?”

Your lips part, staring at him for a moment.

When you do not immediately respond, Seokjin starts to sweat. “You don’t have to take it,” he says quickly. “I can give it to someone else. It’s too much for me though, and you were on the way back from the shop…”

Trailing off, Seokjin wonders if this entire endeavor is foolish. The tray he is holding is full – four, small cups of espresso which cost an hour of pay. Of course, you do not need to know that. You only need to know that he thought of you.

“I – yeah,” you say slowly, reaching out for a cup. “Thanks, Seokjin.”

Seokjin blinks, since your response was almost cordial. Before he can get too excited about this, Brandi appears.

“Wow, thanks!” she enthuses, grabbing a cup. “That was so nice of you to do this.”

“Right.” Seokjin deflates just a little. It is not as if he does not want Brandi to have espresso, but he was hoping for a shared moment with you. “Just spreading the love – or caffeine, as it were. Anyways…” His laughter trails off, gaze darting to you. “Guess I have one more cup to distribute. Enjoy!”

He turns around too fast for you to respond.

Each step he takes, Seokjin half-expects to hear you call out behind him. If this were pre-Fountain Incident, you probably would have. An insult, or horrible pun – something to let Seokjin know you were watching him walk away, but now there is only silence.

This goes on for a week. Seokjin continues to do nice things for you, passing by in the hopes you will say hi. He holds his breath and hopes you will speak first, but it seems you are determined to continue icing him out.

Seokjin supposes he cannot blame you for this. It is not as though you were friends, after all.

He has almost accepted the idea that you will continue being strangers when one day, Seokjin looks up and finds you at the register.

All words instantly die in his throat.

If he thought he was in the process of getting over you, Seokjin was sorely mistaken. The days of silence have not lessened his want, but only intensified it. It makes him swallow, uncertain, which must be a first. Out of all his friends, Seokjin is not the one to call shy.

Tentatively, you smile and Seokjin realizes he still has not spoken.

“H-hi,” he stammers.

Your shoulders seem to relax at his nervousness. “Hi. Is this a bad time?”

“No,” Seokjin says, slamming his register shut. “Lisa is on break, but it’s been a slow afternoon.”

“Yeah,” you exhale. “Same. Guess we finally found those lulls you were on about.”

Seokjin chuckles under his breath. The space between you falls silent again.

“I, uh…” Twisting your hands before you, you seem unsure what to say. “I haven’t seen you around, lately.”

Seokjin’s heart stutters. “Oh. I guess.”

“That’s kind of my fault,” you say. Seokjin’s gaze drops to your hands, which continue to twist. He finds the gesture oddly endearing. “I was the one who told you to stay away.”

Arching a brow, Seokjin turns towards the register. He does not know what to say without being rude. Yes, seems like the most obvious answer, but that could be construed as impolite. Casually, he sneaks a peek sideways. You are right, though – this is partly your fault, also. Even if the other fault is his own.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “I don’t blame you for saying that, though.”

“You don’t?”

Curiosity laces your tone and Seokjin looks up, surprised to see a question mark in your gaze.

“Brandi told me Chad was fired,” you add.

Seokjin stills. “Yeah. He was.”

You pause, as though waiting for an explanation. When none comes, you narrow your eyes. “He was the one who messed with that drone, wasn’t he? Not you.”

“I – yeah, I guess so.”

Exasperation enters your gaze. “Well, why didn’t you tell me?”

“I did!” Seokjin protests. “I told you when we were chasing after the drone and you didn’t believe me!”

“Oh,” you say, wilting a bit. “Right.”

Seeing your face, Seokjin softens. “Look, it’s not a big deal.”

“Is it?” you ask in disbelief. “I yelled at you in front of the entire mall for something you didn’t do, and you’re saying its fine?”

Seokjin’s lips quirk. “Well, when you put it like that.”

When you roll your eyes at the ceiling, he laughs. Weirdly, it feels good to have you disparage him a little. It feels as though you are on even footing again.

“I mean, it’s not like we were friends,” Seokjin continues. “Why wouldn’t you think it was me?”

“Hm.” You blink, taken aback. “I guess you’re right.”

After another long moment, Seokjin adds, “We could try to be friends now, though. If you want.”

You bite down on your lip. “Are you giving me a formal offer, Seokjin? Should I sign on the dotted line somewhere?”

“I can make a contract if you want. All good peace treaties are in writing.”

“Is that what this is? A peace treaty?”

“Of a sort.” Seokjin raises a brow. “I can’t promise to stop kicking your ass in sales, though. I was born talented.”

“Or, maybe it’s Maybelline,” you shoot back. “I wouldn’t want you to stop, though. It’s been too quiet around here without you blasting Backstreet Boys.”

“Liked what you heard?”

“Who doesn’t like Backstreet Boys?”

“Monsters.”

“Agreed.”

“Wow.” Seokjin’s brow furrows. “I think that’s the first time you’ve ever agreed with me.”

“I know.” After a moment, you frown. “It’s oddly unsettling.”

Seokjin laughs – a short, surprised burst which makes you smile. “Well...” Trailing off, he finds himself unsure what more to say. “Is that why you came over?”

“Let’s see.” You lift a hand, ticking things off on your fingers. “Tell you I know you didn’t sabotage my job. Check. Ask to be friends? Check. Oh,” you add, as though only remembering. “There was something else I wanted to say.

Seokjin waits, holding his breath as you start to lean in.

Angelic, you smile. “I lied before,” you say. “We aren’t having a lull. See you around!”

Dropping a wink, you turn to walk across the food court. Seokjin watches you go, legs having effectively turned to jelly in your presence. It is unfair that you have this effect on him. Slowly, he lowers himself onto his stool. It would seem the two of you are friends now.

Dragging a hand through his hair, Seokjin wonders what he has gotten himself into.

Over the next couple of weeks, Seokjin stops by your kiosk more often. He learns your usual morning coffee order – a grande iced Americano – and occasionally brings it along. You seem to have switched to the morning shift, he notices. Before, it was about fifty-fifty which time of the day you showed up.

At some point, Seokjin explains about his former job and current app development side projects. This turns into a running joke of him bouncing ideas off you.

“Okay,” you say, folding your hands across a wan food court table.

Seokjin takes a sip of his coffee. “Okay, what?”

“Okay, what’s today’s app idea?”

Seokjin snorts. It is 10:00 AM and neither of you must be at your shift yet but somehow, you both managed to arrive early.

“What about this?” Seokjin leans back in his chair. “Angry birds, but – instead of birds, its photos of friends that you upload yourself.”

“Pass.”

“Hm. A Bachelorette fantasy league app?”

“Hard no.”

“Okay, so this one is a kid’s game.”

“Go on.”

“A kid’s game where you change the oil of your dad’s car as fast as you can.” 

You snort, nearly spilling your drink. “Seokjin! That’s a terrible app idea.” 

“Bonus points if you spill no oil on the driveway!”

“Seokjin!”

He grins. “Yeah, Yoongi said it was bad, too. I don’t get it.”

“Please.” Shaking your head, your smile fades the longer you look at him. “I don’t believe any of those are your actual idea, though.”

“Huh?” Seokjin blinks. “What do you mean?”

“Those are just the ideas you tell people to make them laugh,” you observe. “It gets them off your back, so you don’t have to say your actual idea. You know, the one you really care about.”

Seokjin pauses, mouth suddenly dry. “I don’t know what you mean.”

You arch a brow. “I get it. That’s how I am with my writing. Freelance doesn’t exactly pay for dreams, does it? I tend to downplay my favorite ideas, so then if they don’t work out – hey, at least it wasn’t something I cared about. You know?”

Seokjin is not quite sure how to respond. In only a few sentences, you have looked inside him and summarized his thoughts. No one – not even Yoongi, whom Seokjin has known for years – is able to read him as well.

Inhaling gently, Seokjin leans back from the table. “Well,” he admits. “There is this one idea.”

“Oh?”

Nodding, Seokjin considers where to begin. “Do you know what fair lending is?”

“Not really, no.”

“It’s the unbiased treatment of customers by banks.” Seokjin pauses and, when you do not seem bored with the topic, begins to speak freely. “It ensures financial institutions provide uniform services, regardless of bias.”

“Gotcha. So, it’s like equal opportunity but for banks?”

“Kind of, yeah.” Seokjin exhales. “Basically, I want to create a fair lending app. There is a lot out there to help with credit decisions and stuff, but I want to put it all in one place. I want to break down the ‘non-biased metrics’ banks use and warn people how there could be bias involved.”

Your frown. “What do you mean?”

“Take income, for example.” Seokjin grips his cup tighter. “The vast majority of people below the poverty line are minorities. So, if a bank has a hard and fast income requirement for a loan, they inadvertently discriminate. It’s why a variety of factors are mandated to assist in … what?” Seokjin blinks, seeing you staring. “What is it?”

Hiding a smile, you shake your head. “Nothing, it’s just a cool idea. I think you should do it.”

“But then who will make bachelorette fantasy app?” Seokjin jokes, ducking his head.

“Someone else.” You wait until he looks up. “Do the fair lending app.”

Seokjin finds he cannot think of another joke. “Alright,” he says slowly. “It’s a plan.”

You nod, sipping your coffee as silence falls in between you. It is unnerving, how easy it is for Seokjin to talk to you. With most people, it takes him a while to show his true colors but with you, he finds he cannot be anyone else.

Glancing at his watch, Seokjin realizes how late it is. “Shit,” he mutters, jumping out of his seat. “It’s nearly 10:30.”

You wince, standing as well. “Damn, do you have to open today?”

“Unfortunately so.” Seokjin grabs his coffee. “I’ll catch up with you later, okay, Y/N?”

“Okay,” you say, waving when he turns out of sight.

Seokjin does not hesitate to walk away. He curses himself the entire way to his kiosk because he is becoming much too comfortable with being your friend. Enough that he keeps catching himself thinking about more.

It is hard not to think about his hands wrapped around yours on your coffee cup. Hard not to imagine carpooling with you in his car to work. Seokjin tries to be on his best behavior but still, the fantasies worm their way in.

It is why he has created several rules of conduct around you. First and foremost is never stay for too long. The second Seokjin feels himself becoming attached, he leaves. Like now, for instance. Seokjin does not really have to be at the kiosk before eleven but the way you were looking at him made his heart beat out of his chest.

Self-preservation, he reminds himself.

The rules are working until Taehyung throws a party.

“Saturday night,” Taehyung grunts, slamming Seokjin’s coffee order on the counter.

Seokjin blinks, reaching up to take both cups. Lately, Taehyung has been in the worst kind of mood. This mostly seems to stem from his hot co-worker who will not take him seriously. All the guys in the mall gave him shit about it before, but the kid really does seem to like her. Which sucks, since Taehyung has a reputation and the pretty barista clearly has heard of it.

“The party is at your place?” asks Seokjin, glancing up at the counter.

Taehyung nods. Loud enough for his co-worker to hear, he adds, “The party will be at my place this weekend! Can’t wait to see you there, Seokjin!”

Seokjin snorts, shaking his head. “You’re whipped, man,” he whispers. Then, loud enough for the female barista to hear, he adds, “I’ll be there! In fact, everyone should come!”

The girl does not react, busy at the register and Seokjin shrugs.

Sorry man, he mouths to Taehyung before pushing open the door. Making his way through the mall, Seokjin walks past your kiosk – only to see you deep in conversation with another guy. Seokjin does not recognize him as your co-worker, but he does recognize him from the gym.

Occasionally, Jungkook talks to him before they work out. Seokjin never found the guy threatening before.

Seeing him now though, the oddest sensation unfurls in his stomach. He does not want you talking to this guy – the desire flashes through Seokjin’s mind faster than he can stop it. Before he can turn around and leave though, before Seokjin can separate himself from the situation, you look up and smile.

“Hey, Seokjin!”

“Hey, Y/N.” Plastering a smile on his face, Seokjin forces himself to walk towards your kiosk. “And you are…?” he asks, looking at the stranger.

The guy grins, unconcerned. “Hey, I’m Josh.”

“Cool.” Seokjin returns to looking at you. “Are you coming to Taehyung’s party this weekend, Y/N?”

Everyone at the mall knows who Taehyung is. He is a staple for anyone who drinks coffee – and chances are, if you have stopped by Java Joe’s in the past three days, you are invited.

Your eyes widen. “I was thinking about it.”

“Cool.” Seokjin casually leans an elbow against your kiosk. He forgets about the wheels though, and as a result, the entire thing starts to move. Frantically attempting to right this, Seokjin nearly spills his coffee in the process.

“Anyways…” he mutters, ears turning scarlet.

You clamp your lips tightly together. “So, you’re going to be there?”

Seokjin nods. He has no idea what he is doing. He has no idea what Josh is doing, since he has not said a word since introducing himself.

Glancing at him now, Seokjin is reminded of Chad. Not because the two look anything alike, but because they both have that air about them. That condescending, could-bench-press-you-in-seconds look. Seokjin bets that, at some point in the past ten days, Josh has worn a snapback.

You are standing close very close to him, though. Seokjin cannot ignore this fact.

“Cool.” Your gaze lingers on his. “Then, I guess I’ll see you there?”

Seokjin nods. “Guess so. We’ll see!”

He turns, walking away and overhears Josh ask you details about the party. Gritting his teeth, Seokjin uncurls his hands from their fists. You are not his to be jealous of, he reminds himself. He has no right to be angry if you decide to date someone else. But still, Seokjin’s mood remains sour for the rest of the day.

You do not visit at the end of your shift. If could be because you are genuinely busy. Or, it could be something else. Or, someone.

Seokjin has the next two days off. He uses them to work on his fair lending app, getting a good bit of coding done in his apartment. Your voice plays in his mind as he works, telling him to go for what he wants.

Seokjin is tired of working at the Fidget Funk. He is tired of waking up every morning, going to a job he hates and feeling as though he is doing nothing with his life. What was supposed to be a temp job has stretched into months and Seokjin needs to act for anything about this to change.

There is only so long he can complain before doing something about it.

He wants to do what he loves; wants to do something he cares about – not this. Sometimes, making that decision is the hardest part.

The night of the party, Seokjin drives there with Yoongi. Yoongi, surprisingly agrees to come with little coercion. Usually, Seokjin needs to drag his taciturn roommate to social events. He was easily convinced tonight though, which results in Seokjin being more nervous than normal.

As they enter Taehyung’s apartment, he pauses on the threshold.

If he had your number, he would have texted to see if you were coming, but Seokjin does not and so, he could not. Wandering into the room, Seokjin winces when no one removes their shoes. Parties are always strangely barbaric in that regard.

Taehyung’s apartment with his roommate, Jimin, is much larger than his. Seokjin remembers Taehyung saying Jimin came from money but does not remember specifics. Jimin is a night nurse at NorthShore Medical center and often stops by Java Joe’s in the morning for coffee. Other than that, Seokjin does not know much about him.

Walking inside, Seokjin realizes Taehyung has downplayed Jimin’s wealth. There is no way they could afford this place on a nurse and barista salary. A bunch of people are outside – because there is an outside; a large balcony overlooking the city – chatting about nothing over the rims of their drinks.

Yoongi disappears as soon as they enter, heading off to god-knows-where. He leaves Seokjin alone, who shifts his weight about nervously. Glancing up, he spots Namjoon in the kitchen and hastily rushes towards him. Finally, a familiar face.

“Joon!” he calls out.

Namjoon waves, re-filling the cup in his hand. When Seokjin reaches his side, he hands another to Seokjin. “Hey,” Namjoon nods. “You just get here?”

“Yeah.” Seokjin scans the party again, red cup in one hand. “Is everything c –”

Cutting himself off mid-sentence, Seokjin stares when you walk into the room. Everything he wanted to say falls from his brain to the floor. It is not unlike that one scene in She’s All That, when Laney comes down the stairs and Freddie Prinze Jr. loses his mind. Seokjin cannot think, looking at you.

A red cup is in your hand, matching the red gloss on your lips and god, Seokjin cannot stop thinking about kissing it off.

He swallows, hard – and then notices the guy at your side.

You laugh, turning sideways to Josh. Because that is who it is, of course – the same muscle- bound jock you were talking to at the drone kiosk earlier.

Jungkook appears as well, clapping Josh on the shoulder. Seokjin scowls, swallowing a larger sip of his drink than intended. First, this guy tries to steal his girl and now, his best friend. Eyes widening, Seokjin straightens. Shit, you are not his girl. He needs to stop thinking that way.

“Seokjin?”

Seokjin realizes Namjoon is staring at him. “Uh, yeah?”

“You trailed off in the middle of a sentence and have been hard-core staring at that girl ever since. Is – oh!” Namjoon’s eyes light up. “That’s her, isn’t it?”

“That’s who?” Seokjin hastily swallows his drink.

“The girl! Fountain girl!” Namjoon shoves him. “The one you’re head over heels for!”

“Okay, fountain girl is a horrible way of describing her. And yeah, maybe that’s – shit, shut up,” Seokjin hisses. “She’s coming this way.���

Namjoon snorts into his drink. You are, indeed, waking towards them but Josh is no longer beside you. Craning his neck, Seokjin looks over your shoulder but does not see the guy anywhere.

“Hey.” You come to a stop right before them, glancing at Namjoon. “Namjoon, right?”

Namjoon sticks out a hand. “Yep. Y/N?”

You take this, stifling a smile as you shake. “Yeah.”

“And, of course, you know Seokjin.” Namjoon grins at Seokjin’s flustered expression.

“Uh-huh,” you say, offering him a tentative smile. “We go way back.”

Feeling somewhat nauseous, Seokjin takes another sip of his drink. “Y/N and I are friends.”

A flash of something – uncertainty? Annoyance? – crosses your features. “Right,” you say carefully. “Friends.”

Your expression remains stubborn though, and Seokjin wonders if he has done something wrong. Changing the subject, he glances around the apartment. “Have you been here before, Y/N?”

“No,” you confess. “But damn – which roommate won the lottery?”

Seokjin grins. “I know, right? I can show you around if you want.”

You blink, taken aback by his offer and Seokjin wonders if that was too forward. Well, fuck it – he is not getting anywhere by being subtle.

“Yeah,” you say, recovering yourself. “I’d like that.”

Pushing himself off the counter, Seokjin says goodbye to Namjoon and plunges into the party. He continues to look for hot gym guy, Josh, but does not see him anywhere. It is unlikely you came here together, but not impossible. Perhaps the two of you are dating. Perhaps you like him and want to date him in the future.

Seokjin is so busy running through what-if scenarios, he does not notice you looking at him.

“Right, so Taehyung and Jimin’s rooms are that way.” Seokjin leads through the crowd. “Aka, that hall is off limits. This is the living area and well, you already saw the balcony.” Steps faltering, Seokjin looks sideways at you. “Did you see the balcony?”

You shake your head. “Nope.”

“Scared of heights?”

“Not really, no.”

“Well, then you’re lucky.” Seokjin mutters, pushing open the sliding glass door. “Luck you never met that dick, Jared Karinsky.”

Laughing, you follow him out on the balcony. There are only a few other people outside and, once the door slides shut, it feels as though you are trapped in another world.

“Who’s Jared Karinksy?”

Glowering, Seokjin takes a sip of his drink. “Some dick who knew I didn’t like heights, but still brought me to the top of the jungle gym. Then, he left me there. It took two hours for my brother to find me and get me back down.”

Laughing, you lean against the railing. “I take it that didn’t help?”

“It did not,” says Seokjin. “If anything, my fear was worse after.”

You grin, draining the rest of your cup as the wind ruffles your hair. It makes Seokjin’s heart ache a bit to look at.

“Well, I have to say –”

The glass door slides open, interrupting whatever you were about to say. Josh’s head pops out. “Y/N!” he grins. “I was looking for you.”

You slowly turn towards the interruption. “I... oh. Hey, Josh.”

“Are you busy?” Josh glances between you and Seokjin.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Seokjin feels oddly foolish. It seems obvious now, that you came here with Josh. You must have been making a beeline for drinks when you ran into Seokjin in the kitchen. Seokjin assumed, then. He thought you were free. When he grabbed you, he was yanking you away from the guy you really wanted to be with.

“Not busy.” Seokjin drains the rest of his cup. “Not busy at all. Have fun,” he mutters, brushing your shoulder as he moves towards the door.

When he leaves, Seokjin does not look back and so, he does not see your lips part. He does not watch you stare after him with equal parts frustration and anger. All Seokjin sees is the kitchen before him, full of alcohol for him to consume. Alcohol he will need to get through the rest of this party.

He is almost to the kitchen when a hand grips his arm, yanking him around. “What the fuck was that?” you say, brows furrowed.

Seokjin stares at you, alarmed you are in such close proximity. “I – huh? What the fuck was what?”

You scowl, leaning in and Seokjin leans back. “That!” you demand, waving vaguely at the balcony. “Why did you run away?”

“Run away?” Seokjin’s gaze darts towards the offending location. “I thought you wanted to talk to that guy?”

“Why would you think that?” you ask, brows furrowing further.

“I…” Seokjin finds himself at a loss. “I don’t know. Didn’t you come here with him?”

“With Josh?” You wrinkle your nose. “You mean – my cousin, Josh?”

“…cousin?”

You nod, looking at him incredulously. “You thought I wanted to talk to my cousin, Josh, as opposed to you?”

A lightbulb clicks in Seokjin’s mind. “I – he’s your cousin?”

“Yes, he’s my cousin.” Scowling, you take a step closer. “But even if he weren’t, why would you just leave like that? We were in the middle of a conversation!”

“I don’t know!” he blurts, gaze narrowing at your tone.

Out of the two of you, Seokjin is the one with the right to be angry. You are the one looking so damn good tonight and currently yelling at him for something he does not understand.

Vaguely aware they should not have this argument in the middle of Taehyung and Jimin’s kitchen, Seokjin grabs your wrist and tugs you into the hall. The forbidden one, next to the bedrooms. Realizing this, Seokjin keeps going and decides to beg forgiveness later.

Dropping your arm, he whirls around to find you mere inches away.

“Why didn’t you ask me to stay?” he accuses, pointing a finger. “For that matter – why didn’t you ask if I was going to the party tonight? If my presence is so important to you.”

Glaring at him, you bat his finger away. “You asked me first! Besides, I thought it was obvious I wanted you here. You know… because of the… and…”

“Because of the what?”

Somehow, you have gotten very close to Seokjin. The tips of your toes are just brushing his. Electricity crackles between you, making Seokjin’s heartbeat oddly erratic.

Glowering, your gaze darts to his lips. “Oh – seriously? Shut up and kiss me, you ass!”

Grabbing your face, Seokjin does just that. His lips crash into yours, the kiss muffled and urgent as he backs you to the wall. You groan, hands fisting in the back of his t-shirt. Seokjin cannot think beyond his hand resting on your jaw, then sliding into your hair, then moving down to your ass.

He cups you against him, head reeling from the sudden warmth of your mouth, your body and the urgency of your touch. Seokjin has never wanted someone so badly. Each brush of your lips leaves him wanting more, an endless desire alight in his veins.

Your mouth opens, tongue flicking with his as Seokjin’s heart nearly explodes. He cannot breathe – each breath mingles with yours, leaving him dizzy and parched.

“Fuck,” he groans, breaking away to lean his arm to the wall.

You stare up at him, breathless and confused. Your chest continues to rise and fall, lips swollen from the wanton press of his mouth. Seokjin cannot look away.

“I…” He exhales, glancing towards the living room. “Do you wanna get out of here?”

You nod so fast, you nearly hit your head on his chin. “Yes.”

“Okay.” Seokjin reaches down, grabbing your hand. “You good with my place? It’s only a few minutes drive.”

“Yeah,” you answer, following him down the hall. “Roommate?”

“Here. At the party.”

“Good.”

Dragging you into the foyer, Seokjin digs his phone from his pocket. Letting go of your fingers, he shoots a text off to Yoongi, telling him not to come home. He can face the consequences of that later. Shoving his phone in his pocket, Seokjin opens the door.

“Do you have a coat?” he asks, looking at you.

“Nope. You?”

“Nope.” Seokjin shuts the door to the hall and the noise of the party fades. “This way?”

“Sounds good.”

When you move to walk past, Seokjin grabs your hand – he cannot help himself. Pushing you against the wall, he relishes your muffled exclamation of surprise and kisses you fiercely. Thoroughly. The way he has wanted to for so long.

Hands sliding into your hair, Seokjin feels you arch against him. Your hand is on his hip, pulling him closer and Seokjin cannot stop thinking about your hand on other places.

When he finally breaks away, you stare at his lips. “That’s…” You swallow, voice sounding strangled. “Fuck.”

Seokjin grins. “Come on.”

Grabbing you again, he pulls you into the elevator. The entire way down, the air between you is electric. Seokjin shifts his weight and you follow suit. Raising a hand, you rub the back of your neck. Seokjin’s skin prickles when he sees.

When the door dings, opening into the lobby, you suddenly come to life. Newly determined, your hand wraps around his and pulls Seokjin outside. He practically throws his keys at the valet, wondering how on earth he is going to survive the drive home without touching you. Thank god he only had that one drink tonight. It would have been torture to be so close to fucking you and then not.

Startled by the thought, Seokjin realizes the truth of the matter. He is going to see you naked. Whirling to face you, Seokjin blurts, “This isn’t some random thing. You know that, right?”

Surprised, you glance at him. “I – what?”

“This.” Seokjin steps closer and his peripheral, sees the valet hop out of his car. “I really like you, Y/N.”

Staring up at him, you blink. “You do?”

“Of course, I do! You thought I didn’t?”

“I thought you hated me.”

“Of course, not!” Grabbing his keys from the valet, Seokjin opens the passenger door. He waits until you sit before crossing to the driver’s side. “Why would you think that?” he asks, sliding into the seat.

You stare at him incredulously. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“What?” Seokjin pulls out of the driveway. “I’ve liked you for so long! I just didn’t know how to tell you.”

“Uh! Could’ve fooled me.”

“Are you serious? I was such an idiot in front of you! What other explanation is there?”

“That you’re an idiot!” you answer, scowling. “Are you seriously saying that was your idea of flirting?”

“I mean… well, no, but…”

You snort, facing forward. “You’re so bad at this.”

“At what?”

“This!” you insist, gesturing between you.

“Oh, come on! Like you’re Juliet, or something.”

“Who?”

“Juliet! Of Romeo and Juliet!”

“They… Seokjin, they died in the end!” you say incredulously.

“Well, what do I know?” Seokjin makes a sharp right, pulling into his parking lot. “I never finished reading that play, actually – fell asleep a third of the way in. What I’m trying to say is that you’re also shit at this.”

“Oh, really?”

“You said you never wanted to speak to me again,” Seokjin reminds, throwing the car into park.

Hastily, you unbuckle your seatbelt. “I apologized for that.”

“You were the one who said you wanted to be friends!” Seokjin shoves open his door and exits the vehicle.

You exit as well, slamming the door shut. “Well, it seemed like the next logical step!”

“No.” Seokjin strides forward. Caging you against the car, he growls, “The next logical step would’ve been admitting you liked me, too.”

“Too?” You blink, stuck on the word. “So, you admit you like me?”

“Never said I didn’t.”

These last words are muttered against your lips, Seokjin cutting off further retorts with a kiss.

Arching upwards, your hands twine around his neck. Seokjin’s mind stutters, unsure what to think. His brain is a vague mess of swear words and exclamation points when his lips move against yours. It is hard to grasp the fact that you are here, with him and wanting him the same way he wants you.

Breaking apart, Seokjin rests his forehead to yours. “Okay,” he manages. “I know you said you wanted to leave with me. I know you got in my car and drove all the way here. But – because I want to be sure – do you want to come in?”

Breathlessly, you laugh. “Yes.”

“Okay.” Withdrawing, Seokjin takes your hand. “Then, let’s go.”

Climbing the outdoor stairs to reach his apartment, Seokjin pulls the keys from his pocket so he is prepared to enter. He does not check his phone, certain Yoongi has texted him multiple epithets about where he can stick his ass.

Bracing his hip against his door, Seokjin jiggles the key to shove it open. Once you are both inside, Seokjin half-expects you to wrinkle your nose. It is not as if his and Yoongi’s apartment can ever compete with Jimin and Taehyung’s.

You do none of this, though. Stepping inside, you place your purse on the counter and glance around curiously. “You live with that guy from the food court, right?” you ask, turning around. “Yoongi?”

Stepping forward, Seokjin crushes his mouth to yours.

You inhale, the noise caught by his lips when your hands slide up his back. One of your legs curls around his, rubbing your core against the meat of his thigh. Seokjin’s head spins, gripping your ass to push you against the counter. You make a muffled noise, gasping when Seokjin hardens into your crotch.

It is embarrassing how ready he is for you. All it took where a few whispered words about how badly you want him and here he is, rock-hard and on edge. Admittedly, the noises you make are not helping.

“Shit,” Seokjin breathes, kissing down the slope of your neck.

You arch your throat, allowing more access. Your skin tastes of berries and something else – probably a perfume Seokjin does not know the name of. The warm press of your core to his leg leaves Seokjin reeling.

“My room?” he gasps, hand dragging up your side.

Frantic, you nod. “Yes.”

Bending, Seokjin grips your legs and lifts you against him. He stumbles towards his bedroom, realizing too late you are heavier than he thought. Maybe Jungkook was right about adding weight to his reps. Kissing you again, Seokjin staggers into his bedroom and drops you on the bed.

Laughing, you grab your top to yank overhead. There is some skepticism to your gaze, as though you expected him to fall short in carrying you. Seokjin’s ego flames in response. Growling lowly, he rips off his shirt and descends on the bed. Parting your legs, he presses a kiss to your thigh.

“Take off your jeans.” Seokjin looks up.

You blink. “What?”

“I wanna eat you out.” Seokjin cocks a brow. “Or, is that too much?”

“No,” you glower, undoing your buttons. “Go for it.”

As you shimmy your jeans down your legs, Seokjin’s mouth dries at the sight of your panties. He did not imagine them to be lace. He did not imagine them to be quite as revealing as they are. Slowly, Seokjin reaches out to peel these aside. You inhale, arching on the bed. Seeing your pussy like that, laid out before him, he can hardly breathe.

You are wet for him. Theoretically, this makes sense, but Seokjin did not think he could make you wet. Did not think he would ever see you as drenched as you are, the lace in the middle much damper than the rest. Pressing another kiss to your knee, Seokjin inhales and makes his way higher.

Flicking your clit with his tongue, he teases at more. You mewl, curling inwards and Seokjin pushes your legs down. He sucks the length of your folds, getting you good and wet before he returns to your sex. You arch again, pussy clenching even through there is nothing inside you.

Smirking, Seokjin takes pleasure in this fact. Your folds are glistening, ready even though has not touched you yet. He has not even pushed a finger inside that tight, wet cunt of yours. Lowering his head, Seokjin’s tongue curls over your clit. He turns needy, licking until your hands fist in the sheets on either side of your body.

“Seokjin,” you groan. “Please.”

“Please what?”

Seokjin leisurely sucks on your clit, pulling it between his lips. His other hand drifts to your cunt, tracing in circles.

You moan beneath him on the bed, arching to try and push him inside. Seokjin memorizes the visual – the black lace of your bra barely hiding your nipples, hair splayed on his comforter with his hands on your thighs.

“I need more.”

“Yeah?” Seokjin lazily traces your pussy. “Want me to finger you?’

“Fuck, yes.”

“Mm.” Seokjin sucks your clit until you cry out from pleasure. Releasing you gently, he sits back on his heels to rub with his fingers. “I could probably make you come like this, though.”

Reaching underneath your body, you unhook your bra. Seokjin stares in awe at your chest, bared before him. “Probably,” you agree. “But wouldn’t it be more fun to come inside me?”

Seokjin’s teeth grit, the words going straight to his cock. Already, it pulses against the tight fit of his jeans – when he feels how wet you are, Seokjin cannot stop imagining himself inside you. Grabbing your wrist, he brings your hand to his crotch.

You inhale when you feel how hard he is. “You’re so… big,” you murmur. “Will you even fit?’

Seokjin smirks, bending until his lips cover yours. “Not yet,” he agrees, spreading your legs with one hand. Stroking your center, he wets himself with your arousal. “That’s why I gotta stretch you out first. Get you ready for this dick.”

“O-h,” you gasp, mouth a perfect o as Seokjin’s finger pushes inside.

It is a tight stretch. Seokjin feels a bit light-headed, imagining something so tight and wet wrapped around him. Withdrawing, he pushes a finger inside you again. Rolling your hips, you force Seokjin deeper and he clicks his tongue, hand grabbing your waist.

“You don’t get to be in control,” he instructs, finger sliding back out. Adding another one, he slowly fucks you again. “You just have to lie there and take it.”

“Good,” you breathe, two of his fingers inside you. “Finally. I’ve been wanting you to yank my panties down and fuck me for weeks now.”

Seokjin’s jaw clenches – shaking his head, he is certain he must have misheard. “What?”

A smile curls your lips. “You heard me,” you say sweetly, pussy squelching as Seokjin’s fingers slide in and out. “You’re so hot when you’re mad. Why do you think I teased you so much? Wanted your dick in my mouth to shut me up.”

Heat blazes through Seokjin’s veins. He has never been this turned on in his life – hearing such sinful things from your angelic lips. Sitting back on his heels, Seokjin frantically undoes his jeans.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he mutters, pushing them past his ass.

Yanking out his cock, Seokjin wraps a hand around his girth. He rubs himself roughly, ignoring the pre-cum dripping from his reddened tip. Already, he is steeling himself to not come inside you. Pushing yourself up on your elbows, you watch him touching himself, lips parted in awe. Seokjin stares back, realizing you are as tuned on by him as he is by you.

Your gaze darts to his face. “Condom?” you ask, voice unsteady. “I don’t think I’ll last long once you’re inside me.”

Nodding, Seokjin grabs one from his drawer. Ripping open the packet, he rolls this on. Lowering an arm to the bed, Seokjin positions his cock at your core. As badly as he wants to be inside you, there is something so tantalizing about teasing. Spreading your legs, Seokjin rubs his cock to your clit and watches you twitch in response.

“Seokjin,” you groan, arms sliding around his neck.

“Yeah?”

“Need you to fuck me so good,” you whine.

“Yeah?” Cock at your entrance, Seokjin slowly pushes inside. “Like that?”

“Mhmm.” You nod, breath hitching slightly. “Like that.”

“There?” Seokjin pushes in a bit more, moaning when your walls flutter around him.

You are squeezing him so fucking tight, Seokjin wonders how much more you can take. He is aware of the fact he is big. It would not be the first time a girl could not take him; would not be the first time he gave up and ate the girl out until she came.

“No!” Eyes flying open, you grab Seokjin’s wrist when he starts to withdraw. Lips parted, you stare at him in a daze. “Please keep going,” you beg. “Don’t wanna stop.”

Seokjin arches a brow. “You sure? Sure it feels good?”

“Good?” You stare at him with a fucked-out expression. “Oh my god.” Wrapping both legs around his waist, you push Seokjin in deeper. “You’re stretching me so good, baby. Can’t wait until you’re pounding this pussy.”

“Fuck,” Seokjin hisses, gaze darkening. “I think I somehow got harder.”

“I know,” you laugh, somewhat dreamily. “Felt your cock twitch inside me. So fucking hot.”

Seokjin continues to ease inside you, inch by inch until your eyes start to water. Biting down on your lip, you urge him on and before long, Seokjin bottoms out. He stops there, panting at the feeling of being so deep inside you. Glancing down, Seokjin sees your pussy split by his cock and cannot contain himself any longer. He slowly pulls out.

“What…” Grasping for his ass, you panic a bit. “Seokjin, don’t –”

Grabbing your knee, he slams back inside you. The two of you groan at the same time. Him, because he has never felt anything as tight and wet as your cunt and you because his dick is so large, your body is trembling.

“God.” You fall back on the bed, chest bouncing. “I fucking knew you were big. There was no other way you could be so annoying.”

Seokjin withdraws, reliving the sweet sensation of thrusting his cock in your tight pussy. You are so warm and so wet – now that you have been stretched, you mold easily to him.

“Fuck,” you gasp, lifting your hips to his.

Seokjin toys with you. Slowly sliding in and out, he brings his thumb to your clit and starts rubbing. “You thought I was annoying, huh?” he breathes, lips hot in your ear.

Nodding, your hands fist in the sheets. “Still do.”

Chuckling, Seokjin captures your lobe with his teeth. His hips roll against you, pressing you into the mattress. “Mm. Know what I think?”

“What?”

“You talk too much. Flip over.”

Your eyes widen. “W-what?”

“Thought you wanted me to shut you up?” Seokjin presses a sweet kiss to your mouth. “Now, flip over, so I can fuck you senseless.”

Withdrawing, he ignores every inch of him which screams to stay put. It is worth it though, when you finally flip onto your stomach and stick your ass in the air.

Inhaling, Seokjin runs a hand up your drenched pussy. Your lips are swollen, messy with slick from him eating you out. Lifting himself onto his knees, Seokjin grabs his dick and pushes against your center. Slapping your clit a few times, he hisses when he feels you tremble beneath him. Hands soft on your hips, he slides into your cunt.

“Ah!” you gasp, head thrown back from the motion.

Wrapping your hair around his wrist, Seokjin thrusts into you again. He can feel every inch of your cunt, feel the tight squeeze of your walls on his cock. God, you are driving him crazy. Thrusting harder, Seokjin cannot separate the sensations before him.

Your ass pushing back on him, the way your moans fall from your lips. The tight wetness of your heat, his cock disappearing in and out. Leaning down, Seokjin slides an arm around your ribcage and pulls you against him.

He continues to fuck you like that, cock entering your body at a punishing speed. You feel so good pressed against him, nipples hard as they peek through his palms. Seokjin’s lips find your neck, sucking a hickey into your skin.

“Fuck,” you groan, walls tightening around him. Your bodies bang together, his cock fucking you open in a way which barely seems decent. “Fuck – Seokjin – yes! Oh my god, yes.’

“Yeah?” His grip tightens around you. “You about to come on my dick, baby?”

“Yes!” you gasp. He is basically holding you up at this point, fucking you senseless. “Oh – oh! I thought… you – mmph – wanted! Me – fuck! Quiet!”

Chuckling, Seokjin slides a hand between your legs. Finding your clit, he begins to rub with his fingers. “Changed my mind,” he grunts. “Wanna hear you scream my name so loud, you wake all my neighbors.”

“S-Seokjin!”

Your legs start to shake, trembling with your impending orgasm and Seokjin is not doing much better. The only thing holding him back is the intense desire to feel you come wrapped around him.

“C’mon,” he groans, angling his hips even deeper. “Wanna feel this tight, little pussy come on my cock. Can you do that, baby? Can you?”

“Yes,” you gasp and then you are coming undone.

Seokjin groans, biting your shoulder when your pussy clamps down. Your orgasm is so intense, Seokjin is surprised he can keep you against him. Pushed over the edge, Seokjin shudders when he lets go and releases into the condom. It goes on for so long, his cock aching as you take every last bit of him.

Slowly, his hand falls and strokes down your side. Lips brushing your neck, Seokjin exhales and gently withdraws. Everything is over-sensitive, each inch of his body buzzing with satisfaction. Tying the condom into a knot, Seokjin tosses this in the garbage and sees you roll out of bed.

His stomach twists. “Where are you going?” he blurts, wincing at how needy he sounds.

It is only – you look so fucking beautiful. Hair messy and lips swollen, traces of arousal lingering on the inside of your thighs. You smile at him, as if sensing his nervousness.

“Where’s your bathroom?” you ask, sheepish.

Seokjin exhales, relief coursing through him. He points to the left. “Over there,” he says, collapsing on top of the sheets. His dick is limp, soft in his lap, but looking at you, Seokjin is already thinking about more. “Want me to show you?”

“That’s alright,” you laugh, turning around. “I think I can make it to the closet alone.”

Grinning, Seokjin falls back again. “Come back soon.”

“Okay.”

Glancing at him over your shoulder, you sneak another peek before disappearing.

Seokjin stares at his ceiling for a moment before he remembers his roommate. Wincing, he reaches down to fish his phone from his jeans. Unsurprisingly, there are several missed texts from Yoongi.

Yoongi: k lol [11:01 PM]

Yoongi doesn’t matter won’t be sleeping anyways [11:01 PM]

Yoongi: too busy eating dessert ; ) [11:01 PM]

Groaning, Seokjin plugs his phone into his charger. He guesses this means Yoongi found someone else to hook up with. Rolling over in bed, Seokjin starts when you open the door.

“Hey.” You smile, almost embarrassed. Walking towards him, you bend to scoop your underwear from the ground.

“Whoa!” Seokjin blurts, grabbing your wrist. He pulls you into the bed before you can get dressed. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Putting on clothes,” you laugh, curling into his side. “Clearly, I was wrong.”

“Mhm.” Seokjin’s nose nuzzles your hair. He is not sure why, but something about this feels right. Having your limbs entwined in his, your hand resting soft on his chest. He feels warm, satisfied by the thought of being near you.

Sleepily, you smile. “I’m not allowed to get dressed tonight, is that it?”

“Nope,” he agrees, heart soaring the longer he looks at you. “Something that good needs repeating.”

Laughing a little, you curl tighter around him. “Does that mean you want to repeat it?” you ask, uncertainty to your voice.

Sliding two fingers under your chin, Seokjin tilts your head up. “Yeah,” he says, quiet. “I can’t think of anything I want more, to be honest.”

“I – same.”

Laying your head on his chest, you are quiet for a moment as Seokjin basks in the silence. Then, he exhales and adds, “I mean, aside from trouncing your sales targets, of course. I always want to do that.”

You snort, shoving his side. Seokjin pulls you in closer, grinning widely. It is a lie, of course – right now, there is nothing he wants more than to be with you.

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